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COMPLETE: "Look" (TEEN)

Re: "Look" ( Chapter 25 up now! Comments welcome!)

Thanks for the review, Ian. Very helpful!

I'll more than likely start Ch.26 tonight, and try to get it posted at the latest Thursday.

Thanks for reading, everyone.
 
Re: "Look" ( Chapter 25 up now! Comments welcome!)

I need to re-read this.

Forrealz.
 
Re: "Look" ( Chapter 25 up now! Comments welcome!)

By all means, go ahead. Really. Please....Please...
 
Re: "Look" ( Chapter 26)

I haven't picked this up in over a year. I recently reread it all, and it was awful. It's full of plot holes and grammatical errors. I'm still a tad shocked it won an award. I think the people that read this aren't active anymore, or have forgotten this story. But I still want to finish it anyways. I apologize for the last 25 chapters, as they were hastily written while my mind formulated what was going to happen next. Much like this one.

Enjoy.

“Look”
Chapter 26, Saga 3
By RaccoonGoon​

He was going back. Back home, to his home Region. Everything was in reverse. The ship was sailing backward. He was stepping back from it in the dock. He passed through a doorway. Suitcase tossed by the closet, trench coat swooped off his shoulders and zipped into the hallway. Now he was unpacking, clothes choppily flying into a wardrobe. It was exactly like rewinding a film.

Further back now. He was in a sterile hospital room. A man was before him in a bed, connected to a few tubes. His face bruised, nose bent. Then man was middle aged, had slight scruff on his chin, and bags under his closed eyes. If one were so inclined to lift up his hospital gown, they would see a bandage wrapped around his rib cage. And, if one were so morbid to snoop under the wrappings, one would see quite the vicious hole torn in the man’s lower-left chest.

Looker was fourteen. He was sitting in a chair, watching his father’s slow breathing. Then, slower breathing. Looker stood and peered at his father, worried look attacking his face. His father had stopped breathing. A shrill beeping filled the room, a nurse rushed in, then a doctor, then another nurse. They flocked around the dead man. Looker sunk back in the chair and placed his head in his hands. He can’t really remembered if he screamed.

Now he was in some sort of office. The same doctor as before was looking down at him, hand on his shoulder. Something about the knife wound reaching his father’s heart, something about shock and internal bleeding. Looker didn’t know…well, he just didn’t know. Now he was in another, smaller office. A strange man with a stack of papers before him was talking to him in a calming voice. They, whoever they were, couldn’t get information on his mother, and with his father’s passing, and the lack of any close relatives, the man said something about “adoption” and “children’s homes” and “Things’ll get better”

Another jump, and Looker was running down the sidewalk to his house. He can’t remember how or when he got away from that other office. But now he was in his father’s room, throwing clothes into a suitcase without any reason. He latched the case and went to the door. A bundle was in the hallway. His father’s business coat, wallet, keys, and atop it all, a piece of paper reading out funeral details. He grabbed the trench coat in a hurry and left the other items and exited the house. He trudged down the street, to the docks. Another sudden jump, once again in the hospital room. His father, the walls, the bed, even the sound of the siren started to melt and expand, shrink and morph, change and warp. Suddenly, Looker was eighteen and every single moment rocketed forward, flashing before his eyes. Every action, every day, every word of every minute. Sailors, a Golbat, an apartment, bikes, Johanna, Crogunk, an IP Badge, twins, Skarmory, everything. Every second was thrown into fast-foward, going faster and faster, until-

The man in the hospital bed was IP Officer Stan. His body wrecked. Spine fractured. Legs crushed. His eyes were closed, his trademark shades, cracked, on a small table besides the bed. Doctors were fussily moving around him, trying to stabilize him. This was all too much for Looker. He had seen this all before. It was now nearing noon. Things had happened so fast. The Two Island PokeCenter contacted IP HQ, where a few Officers were dispatched to pick up the injured man and Looker. A few more came along to apprehend the surviving Team Spade members: Mel and Rex, the later being the proclaimed leader of the group. The two speedy boats shot towards HQ. Once there, Stan was rushed to the medical center while the criminals were talking to the criminal housing unit. What was originally an investigation into a small town bar had turned into this, a mystery about a stolen treasure and a criminal gang, island hopping, underground bunkers exploding. How? All anyone could think was “how?”

While the doctors continued to work on Stan, another IP Officer, Officer Smith walked into the room and leaned towards Looker.

“I know it’ll be tough to leave, but we need to debrief you on this. C’mon.”

Looker slowly nodded and stood before following Smith out of the medical center to the central main building of the island. He was led the floor number ten, into IP Director Cullen’s personal office.

“Thank you, Smith.”

Smith nodded and exited. Looker was now sitting across Director Cullen. A pen, a few papers and forms, and a small laptop was on the desk.

“Alright Agent Looker. I’m aware this mission took a turn for the worst, but I’ve already filled in the outline of what happened. Now, I just need your parts of it and Stan’s, if he…”

Cullen stopped short and placed a few fingers on his broad moustache. Looker was gazing downward. He was so tired. So very tired.

“Alright, sir. This is what happened.”

Looker detailed the Region-Hopping flights they had to go on, the bar in Sinnoh, the scene at the Pewter Museum, One Island, Two Island, Five Island. The twins, Tim and Tom, the battle Crogunk had with the two Skarmory, the rubble on Two Island.

The young Agent concluded his tale and Cullen recorded it all. The IP Director nodded at Looker, noticing his tired face.

“I’ll arrange to get you a quicker ride back home personally for later this afternoon. The suspects are in critical condition in the holding center health ward, so we can’t very well interrogate them yet. But when they recover, I’ll let you be the first to question them. Until then… ”

Cullen stood and walked around his desk. Looker was still seated.

“I’d advise you to go see Stan. You did good out there, kid.”

--------------------------------

When he entered Stan’s room, he found the Officer awake, staring at the ceiling. The doctors and nurses had left. Both his legs were in thick, white casts. The had him in a neck brace and a back brace that kept him still. His shoulders were bruised and his arms looked frail, as they sunk tenderly into the bed. His eyes were worn and his whole face looked pale. His sideburns, however, looked the same.

“Hey pal. Glad you could make it.”

His voice was raspy. Looker walked up to his friend.

“We…we got ‘em, Stan. Both of them and the tins are locked up. You were right, there was a pair of twins involved.”

Stan slowly raised up a wobbling arm and did some sort of hand jive.

“Great. That Platinum Meowth Coin will be found yet.”

Looker scanned the monitors above Stan’s bed and placed his finger and thumb to his chin.

“Listen, pal. You were great out in the field. I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks, but rest now. You need to-”

“No, look. I’m sure I’m going to survive-”

He grunted and let out a hiss of air before going on.

“-Survive this little setback, but the doctors said my back was broken, too much rubble fell on it. And my legs were crushed.”

“Stan, you’ll recover. Your legs will heal up and your back can-”

“I’ve seen this stuff before, pal. They’ll pay off my retirement early. I know they will. They’ll make me quit being an Officer. I’m broken, Looker-pal.”

Looker gulped and thrust his hands in his pockets.

“Don’t say that! They just can’t make you stop, they wouldn’t.”

Stan let out a few small chuckles.

“So here’s the deal. Remember that other Pokemon I had? The one I was embarrassed about? It was a Delcatty.”

“That’s.. that’s real great Stan. I saw it being healed in the downstairs PokeCenter. Your Staraptor is down there too.”

“Good, good. Now listen. I’ll heal up and they’ll send me on their way. So promise me something.”

Looker could barely handle this. Stan was his friend, his mentor. He hated seeing him like this. Bent and broken and ranting between pained gasps of air. Stan went on.

“Promise me that, for as long as you do this, don’t fail. Stay on track no matter what. Don’t lose the trail. Keep on them and ask around. Get the bad guys no matter what, okay?”

Stan’s eyes changed. They widened and became more intense.

“Don’t you dare end up like me. Promise me.”

Looker gripped the side of the bed and shut his eyes for a moment, then flashed them open and looked right at Stan.

“Promise. I’ll catch all the bad guys.”

The injured Officer reached out and grabbed Looker’s right hand and squeezed it while a smirk grew on his face.

“I’m so proud of you, Looker. Now hand me my shades and split.”

Looker shook the man’s hand and gently handed the damaged sunglasses over form the table. Stan flicked them of and relaxed his head on his pillow.

“Thank…Thank you so much, Stan.”

“I said split, bro. I know old Cullen is going to send you home the quick way, and he always does that near dusk. Get going.”

Stan said all this with a smirk. Looker couldn’t help but smile.

“Take care, Officer.”

“And hey, if you remember one thing about me…”

He turned in the doorway once more. The corner of small bathroom cut off view from Stan, save a small glimpse of his side and feet.

“Yeah?”

He saw an arm reach out and the hand form a “thumbs up” sign.

“Remember my sideburns.”

---------------------------------------------

He went to the main pier, where an IP Officer and his Salamence was talking to a man in postal garb and his Pelipper. The two noticed him and turned to him The Officer with the Salamence snapped his fingers at seeing him.

“You’re the one scheduled for express return for rest, eh? Lucky you. Oh, hey, good timing. Looks like you got mail here.”

The grey headed mail man nodded before opening up his Pelliper’s large beak. Inside the huge beak were bunches and bunches of letters and envelopes, along with a few shipping boxes. The mail man shuffled his hand around the Pelliper’s mouth until he found the correct letter.

“Right from Twinleaf Town.” The mail man beamed, handing the mail to Looker.

“Read it on the way kid. We have to Fly now to keep schedule.”

Looker tucked the letter into his coat and approached the fearsome Dragon-Type.

“Just hop on his back,” The Officer said, jumping onto the blue skinned beast and giving Looker a hand up behind him. The Officer pulled a few pair of goggles from his pocket and handed a pair to Looker.

“Sit tight.”

The Salamence let out a roar and jumped into the air, allowing it’s red spiked wings to push against the air, causing flight. The ocean below zoomed by as they picked up speed. The orange sun was dipping below the ocean, looking like it was about to be snuffed out and drowned by the large sea.

“Fastest Salamence in the whole force if you ask me!” the man shouted above the rushing wind.

“Pretty quick!” Looker replied. It was faster than the SS. Condria.

Once a set speed had been paced out, Looker opened the letter, holding it low so it wouldn’t be blown away. It was from Johanna, and dated just a few days ago.

“Dear Looker,

Good news! Since it’s summer now, my mother let me travel to East Sinnoh to go to some nice Lake Front! It’s so nice a quiet here. I hope you return soon so we can spend some time together. And when night comes, Sunyshore City is so fun! Night time beach parties, electrical light shows. It’s all just so dazzling! I’m staying here for a few weeks, so hopefully you can come home for a bit and enjoy it all with me. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since you left. Please be safe and hurry home.

-Your girl, Johanna.”

Well this was a bit of good news, at least. After such a mission and seeing Stan “broken”, he needed something to relax him. A lake front, some beaches, electric light shows, and most of all, Johanna.

The whole mission, with traveling and all, must of took five or six days total. So how much time would he get off before he was assigned back. He asked the Officer.

“Oh, anywhere from a week to a week and a half. You’ll get a memo with the exact return date later on.”

That wasn’t too bad, really. He then asked where this “lake front” was in Sinnoh.

“Valor Lake front? Why, that’s just North East of Pastoria. Pretty nice place. Relaxing.”

“Huh. Hey, think you could drop me off there instead of Eterna City? I think I’m meeting somebody there.”

The Officer laughed. “I’d love too. But the only problem is that we flew over it about ten minutes ago. We’re closer to Eterna now, anyway.”

He couldn’t believe it. This Salamence really was fast. It felt like no time had went by. The sun had just now vanished behind the horizon.

Once in Eterna the Officer collected back his flight goggles and bid the fellow IP member farewell. Looker couldn’t complain. The Salamence had deftly landed right in front of the Dragon Statue that served as Eterna’s City’s landmark. He was finally home. He ran down the streets as people retired inside to enjoy the day’s end. His coat trailed behind him as he bounded around a corner and toward the Condiminiums, the apartment building that was his home.

We won’t go into detail as how he reacted in returning, as we have detailed this before in a previous chapter. But in parenthesis we’ll say that the ditzy receptionist with far too much lipstick on welcome him in the same stupid way, asked what he was saying, to where he had to do his “Looker, it is what they call me. My room key, buffooned woman now, yes?” routine, to where she cackled and handed him the room key. He entered his quarters and released Croagunk, he too glad to be home. Throwing off his coat and drinking a soda, he sunk into his bed and basked in being on his own bed. Croagunk drifted off on the couch, and soon, both of them were asleep. Home, oh beautiful home!

Fin. Chapter 26. End of Saga 3.
-------------------------------------------------

Next Chapter: Looker takes a trip to the Lake Front and the shining coast town of Sunnyshore. But, while he takes it easy for a few days, Vick Hayden still has the treasured Platinum Meowth Coin. And what of Rex and Mel? Will they be of any use to anyone? This case is far from closed.
 
Re: "Look" (Chapter 27)

Holy smokes. This chapter ended with ten pages. This might be the longest chapter yet.

You like Pokemon battles? This chapter has a Pokemon battle! You like Sunnyshore City? This chapter has Sunnyshore City! You like other canon characters? This chapter has other canon characters!



“Look”
Chapter 27, Saga 4
By RaccoonGoon​

The posh and dapper man named Vick Hayden flicked on his flat screen television set. The news report was in full swing, a lady in a blue dress talking into the microphone. Behind her, a group of men and other workers, along with burly Pokemon, were working in the dirt and cement. The place was Two Island, and the scoop was about a bomb shelter that had caved in during a tense battle. The camera changed to a scene of a pile of broken cement and rebar. Back to the reporter. A few dead bodies were found underneath, crushed. View of body bags being loaded into ambulance. News woman saying the men were dressed in grey flight suits and had a Skarmory each. At this Hayden nearly bolted from the couch. There was no way…

The report went on. Two of the grey-suited men survived, and were apprehended by the International Police in connection with the plunder of the Pewter City Museum. Hayden dropped the remote. The idiots had gotten the International Police involved. The fools had caused a disaster on Two Island and even had themselves caught. Surely this would all lead back to him.

The news woman droned on. An IP Officer was also in he bunker when it crumbled, he too in critical condition. Finally, at the very bottom of the ruined bunker, was a Sandslash, crushed and mangled. Rex’s Sandslash. But there was no way to know which Spade Members had perished and which ones were caught. The broadcast switched to another reporter, this one a man in a red suit. He was reporting from Five Island and was standing in a field of flowers in front on a warehouse. His story was about two twins, in the same grey flight suits, harassing the locals and hiding out in the empty war warehouse. They were tracked and arrested by a young IP Agent and his Croagunk. They too were now apprehended.

Hayden clenched his teeth. Two more people that would talk. He should have had his Gyrados waste them all for good measure. He flicked off the television. There was only one thing he had to do. Get rid of the Meowth Coin before the International Police come knocking. Well, sell it before then. And he had just the customer who was arranging a meeting as I retell the tale. He’d pass off the Coin in return for vast wealth while the other guy get’s pegged with the crime. It was perfect.

Hayden went into his bedroom and prepared to go to sleep. He had a day or so to spare. As he settled into bed, another though crossed him. The captured Team Spade members, most certainly Rex, if he was indeed apprehended, would spill his name, and the passing on of the Coin would be pointless. No matter which men were caught, they were liabilities to Hayden.

They would have to be silenced.

---------------------------------------------

Looker rose early in the morning and went about his morning routine. Brush teeth, shower, comb hair, dress, eat, drink soda. Croagunk spent the morning eating straight from the cereal box. Once dressed, the young man, in high spirits, threw some extra clothes and over-night things in his suitcase.

“Croagunk, we’re going to go to Valor Lake Front today. I hear it’s a little past Pastoria, so it shouldn’t be that hard to find. Now let’s get going so we can have the whole day to get there.”

The blue skinned Pokemon saluted and nodded before hopping off the couch. With the same strutting walk the two walked out of the apartment. At the same moment, Celia, the elderly, sweet lady from across the hall was also opening her door. She instantly recognized the two and rushed to give Looker a hug. Elated at seeing him home, she all but dragged him into her apartment to catch up. Croagunk followed suit. Being polite, he respectfully told her of the previous mission, while leaving out the “need-to-know” information. She told him how things were around town, how the weather had been, and other various matters. He told her he was going to spend some time with Johanna at the Pastoria Lake Front.

“Oh, I remember when I was much younger, Scotty and I would go there during summer. It’s so lovely, Looker. Oh, look at me, keeping you here! I’ll let you and Croagunk get going, now.”

Looker wished her the best and was now leaving the apartments, on the familiar trek to Pastoria.

-----------------------------------------------

After double-checking his directions in Pastoria, he and Croagunk were in Valor Lake Front. Small villas dotted the landscape, along with blue lounging pools. A calm breeze covered the place, making the lush grass bend with the wind. Past the villas was Lake Valor, the deepest lake in Sinnoh. If you wanted to fish for prime Pokemon in Lake Valor, you’d be disappointed; Lake Valor housed an abundance of Magikarp. It was around four in the afternoon.

“Excuse me, miss. Have you seen a girl about my age staying here?”

The lady sun bathing in the lawn chair raised up and thought.

“Come again?”

“A girl is staying here at the front of Lake Valor. You have seen her, yes? My age is what she will be.”

“Oh, actually I have seen her! Yeah, she’s about your age. She said she was staying at Hotel Grand Lake. It’s that taller building you passed if you came from the south.”

The Hotel Grand Lake was a friendly looking, nice hotel that boasted in six floors of rooms. The lobby of the hotel was humble and home-y feeling. Before entering the building, Looker returned Croagunk to his Pokeball, saying they may not like Pokemon out and about inside. He thrust his hands into his coat pockets and went inside. He asked the receptionist behind the front desk what room a “Miss Johanna” was staying in. The lady in the crisp navy uniform typed a few things onto a computer, then smiled and said “fourth floor, room forty-eight.”

Looker couldn’t help but smile as he punched the fourth floor button inside the elevator. He had only been gone for six days, but after the stress of the mission, this was the best possible thing to happen. It had felt like a month since he had seen her. Once on the fourth floor he searched for room forty-eight, finding it at the end of the hall. He hurriedly knocked.

No answer.

He knocked again. Still, the door remained closed, no voice came from inside. He tried to open it, just to see if it may be unlocked. It was locked. “I could probably kick it open…but something tells me the hotel wouldn’t like that…” And it was true. While a Trainee they had taught everyone how to deliver a straight-leg kick to various doors to get the lock to disengage and the door to fly from the frame. Looker frowned. Both at Johanna being out and at not being able to try to kick in a door.

Once back in the lobby, the same receptionist rushed over to him, flustered.

“I’m terribly sorry, sir. Miss Johanna asked me to give this to a young man in a trench coat if he came by. It slipped my mind when you asked.”

The lady was very embarrassed as she handed him a small note.

“Looker, if you find me absent from my room, I’ll be in Sunnyshore. I go to Sunnyshore every evening. So, if you get here anytime after two o’ clock or so, head to Sunnyshore to the “Beached Whiscash.” I hope you make it! I’ll be waiting!”

-Your girl
Johanna

He slipped the note in his pocket, asked the receptionist to store his suitcase, and bolted out the door.

-----------------------

Route 222. What a lovely place to walk, relax, fish, and battle. But Looker had more pressing business in Sunnyshore City nearby. The Route itself was quite pleasant, offering a stunning view of the ocean. A small beach held a few houses on it, and the tide lapped to and fro on the sand. Not a bad looking little bit of Sinnoh.

Once past the gatehouse, he was in Sunnyshore. The city was built on small islands and intricately placed wooden bridges. To the south-eastern end of town stood the Vista Lighthouse. The massive light atop the tower was powered down at the moment.

He approached a young man, about his age or a tad younger who was sitting on bench. His face was rather stern and pale, and his spiked blue hair was his most distinct feature. The young man seemed to be deep in thought, as he only took note of Looker at the last moment.

“Good afternoon. I was wondering if you could tell me where to find the Beached Whiscash?”

The other fellow examined Looker for a moment and turned his head, which caused a shadow to fall upon his face. One could tell he thought the question was absurd.

“Go north, under that bridge, and you can’t miss it. You know, if we were to replace those old wooden bridges with ones that harvested the sunlight in panels, we’d save on energy. We could power the Gym and…”

Looker, not wanting to be rude, stood and listened to him talk about bridges and solar energy.

The blue haired man’s voice was cold and distant. He went back to staring straight ahead, until his burrow furrowed and he stood up.

“I knew I should of stayed inside today. Fools in trench coats asking me directions… all so…pointless. Nobody will ever see the point in such technology, such machines… ”

And with that he was walking away, head down. Looker had no idea what had caused that little scene, but decided it was better if he didn’t. He shrugged and started walking.

“I’d hate to have to chase that guy down…”

Soon, a blue building came to view. Above it, a sigh in the shape of a Whiscash read the name of the establishment. This was the place. A crowd of people was already forming in and around the place, mostly young people enjoying the summer air. Once he squeezed passed a swarm of bodies, he was inside. What could make this joint so popular?

Looker scanned the interior. A bar, both alcoholic and soda. Tables and booths, a small stage. Lights strung around the walls. Pictures and painting as well. Finally, in a corner booth, he saw her. Johanna wore quite the smile on her face, she was giggling. She was wearing a green summer dress and thin black sandals. To Looker, and many other gentlemen, she looked lovely. The ecstatic young man started towards her. Then he saw it. Them. Along with Johanna, other people were present at the booth. Another red-headed gal sat towards the wall opposite her, a rather tan young man wearing a loose fitting tank top next to her, both laughing as well. And sitting next to Johanna herself was a handsome young chap with long blond hair with dull brown eyes. He was slender and well built, around the same age as the others. He was wearing some tan jeans, charcoal shaded shoes, and a tee-shirt with stunning green stripes running horizontally across it. Finally, around his neck was a simple orange scarf that hung loosely down his chest. This man seemed to be the one making the others laugh, as he had a slight smirk on his face and was bopping his finger up and down. If this wasn’t enough to ruffle our hero, his arm was slacked over the top of the booth, and was a few clicks from Johanna’s shoulder.

Looker pushed every thought away and neared the booth. Johanna noticed him and instantly let out a cheer. She stood and wrapped her arms around him, to where he returned the embrace.

“Oh, Looker! You made it! I was hoping you would find me, mister detective!”

Her lips pressed against his cheek with a smooch.

“I missed you, Johanna. Oh, I’m so glad to be back in Sinnoh after all I-”

He was cut short as the blond gentlemen spoke.

“Why don’t we get him a chair and he can sit and chat?” Even his voice well swell.

A chair was grabbed from a nearby table and positioned at the booth. Johanna sat back down in her spot while Looker took his seat.

“This is the boy I’ve told you about, Looker. He just got back from an International Police mission!” She was beaming while looking towards the others. Looker scratched the top of his left hand, not knowing how to react.

The two strangers opposite Johanna smiled and nodded, saying some generic reply. The scarf’d man, however, leaned back slightly and eyed Looker.

“That’s real neat, pal. I’m Palmer.”

The man extended his hand over the table for a handshake. Looker smiled and shook the hand. At least his arm was down form the booth now.

The tanned gentlemen urged him to show some of his IP stuff, and the most obvious choice was his badge.

“It isn’t much, really, just a metal pin is all it is…”

He flashed his badge to them, opening his coat to reveal it pinned inside.

The red-haired lass leaned over the table to Johanna and pressed her hand to the side of her mouth. In a failed attempt at a whisper-

“Is he foreign or something? I didn’t catch any of that.”

“Tina!” The other girl hissed. “Looker, don’t pay attention to her, she-”

Palmer broke in. “Hm. I’d say it was something. I’ve been showing Johanna around Sunnyshore a little. I hear you two are quite the sparkers, so I hope you aren’t offended or anything.”

Johanna shot him a swift glare.

“No, no, that’s fine.” It wasn’t fine.

He adjusted his shoulders in his coat. The whole situation was awkward. Why would this guy show her around? Why would she let him? He was handsome and confident and…no, not Johanna. She had far too much class for that. They had just seen each other a handful of days ago!

Palmer noticed his fidgeting while he slung his arm on the booth once more.

“It’s a little warm for jacket, don’t you think pal?”

Pal. Peachy-keen. A lawman being called pal by this beach bum. He looked up at the scarf’d man while resting one leg on the other.

“It’s a little warm for a scarf too, isn’t it?”

The red haired girl and tanned man still didn’t understand what he said. They were clearly that sort of Sinnoh people.

The two men held eye contact for a strangely long time. Now Johanna’s glare was directed towards Looker. Oh, not Looker. He wasn’t the type to do this. Surely he wasn’t jealous. He had to much class for that.

The tanned gentlemen interjected.

“So I hear that get-together at the beach will be pretty poppin’ tonight. We should get down there and secure a spot.”

The people seated in the booth agreed. Palmer found the idea grand. Man, was he in a bloody rush. Now, he had planned to go to the beach with Johanna, but not with three other people, and definitely not with him.

The group stood and exited the Beached Whiscash and started to walk down the sidewalk. The sun was now setting, and was casting a yellow glow over the city. He and Johanna fell back a little bit.

“Tell me all about it! How was it?” Her enthusiasm seemed forced and strained.

“Johanna,” he began “You and…Blondie over there haven’t been…running around have you?”

“He’s a good guy, Looker! He’s a pool-boy over at the lake front, and he saw me one day and offered to show me around. That’s all, really.”

“You two seem awfully comfortable with one another..,and what about those other two? A few Poffins short of a shake, eh?” Looker smiled at her, but she found the statement less than hilarious.

“They’re nice, just… different. They…”

“Don’t have a job?”

Another glare from Johanna had made him wish he kept his mouth shut. With a hard squeeze from her hand, she whispered “We’ll be alone right after this. It’s just a few people playing in the sand.”

A few people. A few people turned out to be quite a few people. Some splashing in the ocean, others romping around on the beach. Stretched out on towels or under parasol’s. A general chatter buzzed in the air. People and Pokemon alike were having a general good time, as all young people on the beach do. The sun was now a slim sliver above the ocean horizon. It was getting dark, and in the center of the beach some fellows started a large enough fire to add light where the strung lights faltered.

The group found a suitable spot and settled. The two generic people chatted about the newest styles and songs, Palmer gazed out at the ocean, and Johanna and Looker discussed his trip back, how things were at the HQ, and other such matters.

“…And luckily, Croagunk dodged right in time.”

“Aw, I almost forgot! How is Croagunk? Why don’t you let him out and have him enjoy the beach?”

At the mention of a Pokemon Palmer spun around, wide, stupid grin on his face.

“You have a Pokemon? We have to battle!”

He had never battled an actual Trainer. Tim and Tom, the Team Spade twins didn’t count. They had clearly just obtained their Skarmory and didn’t know how to command them. And he himself had barely grasped how to command Croagunk, as his partner attacked on his own. He nor Croagunk had ever been in an actual battle.

“Oh, no, no. I’m not that big of a Trainer…”

“Sure you are! You have a Pokemon, after all! C’mon!”

“Palmer, Looker isn’t big on battling, really…”

A crowd had started to form around the gastrulating blond man. All eyes were on them, and murmurs of a Pokemon battle could be heard. Palmer urged on with the same stupid grin.

“It’s my dream to be the best Trainer in Sinnoh! What’s the worse that can happen?” The crowd had by now started to chant in unison: "Battle Him! Battle him! Battle him!”

He looked at the crowd, to Palmer, then to Johanna. How bad could it be? He grabbed Croagunk’s Pokeball from his pocket and tenderly laid his coat down by Johanna. He begrudgingly rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt and stood. The crowd of chanters had backed up and formed a wider ring. Johanna and the other two also backed up.

“Oh man, the guy in the slacks doesn’t stand a chance.”
“Does this guy know who Palmer is? Has he even been on this beach?”
“Forty-five Tabs that Palmer wraps this up in under a minute.”

“Alright Croagunk, let’s see how we do.” With that Croagunk was released. The Pokemon took in the scene of chanting beach-goers, the sand, the large bonfire. He cast his yellow eyes towards his partner as if to say “Is this really a place a man such as yourself should spend his time?”

Palmer had his hands in fists and out to his side. He was clearly excited at having a Pokemon battle.

“Alright, time to do this!” What came next made Looker’s bowels turn to water. The Pokeball hit the sand, clacked open, and what burst from the light towered over Croagunk. It had claws and wings. It was a giant compared to most. Orange skin, cream stomach, determined eyes, a mighty tail.

“Alright Dragonite, let’s get started!”

The crowed roared with cheers. It may be the fact Palmer looked so cool while doing all this, or the fact that nobody around had a Pokemon such as Dragonite, especially at such a young age. Some men died before obtaining such a creature.

“Croagunk, try a Poison Jab at that thing’s stomach!”

Croagunk understood and darted for the Dragon-Type. If he was afraid of the larger Pokemon, he didn’t show it.

“Dodge the attack and take to the sky, Dragonite!”

With a roar the Dragonite used it’s wings to push off the ground, making Croagunk’s glowing purple fingers to dig into the sand.

“Great job! Now use Dragon Rush!”

Now above Croagunk, Dragonite’s tail started to crackle with energy and glow a deep lavender. The Dragon-Type did a swift front flip and brought his tail down, right on top of Croagunk. The Poison/Fighting Type let out a sound of pain as it was thrown back skidding across the sand. The crowd let out a mighty whoop at this. Even Johanna let out a cheer at the beautifully executed attack.

Looker clenched his fists. They had never been up against something like this. Croagunk slowly stood back up, painfully. He couldn’t take another one of those. The crowd continued to cheer.

“Croagunk, don’t take that abuse! Use Revenge!”

Croagunk once again rushed at the Dragonite, hatred filling his whole body.

“Use Iron Tail to counter it!”

Now the dragon’s tail glowed a metallic silver. The Dragonite spun around, swinging his now steel tail at Croagunk. The Poison/Fighting Type jumped into the air, avoiding the enemy attack, before slamming both arms into the side of Dragonite’s head. But the attack didn’t end there. Croagunk wrapped one thin blue arm, as best as he could, around Dragonite’s head, and with his other arm, started to punch the dragon over and over again among his face and head. His legs were spastically kicking at the beast’s neck and shoulders.

Beside a few winces of pain, Dragonite was taking the hits like a champ. After a few moments of, Dragonite reached behind his head to try to pry the other Pokemon off. Finally, he got a hold of Croagunk and lifted him off his head. And brought him around to the front, albeit upside down. The two Pokemon were now face to face.

Looker saw his chance. “Sucker Punch, now!”

Croagunk swiped a balled three-fingered fist into Dragonite’s snout, making him let out a pained cry and drop Croagunk. The crowd let out the typical “Ohhhhhhhh” at seeing the gutsy Pokemon punch Dragonite.

“Just like a cop…” Palmer said before smirking again.

“Okay Dragonite, we’ve had our fun. Stone Edge.”

Before Looker could respond, Dragonite threw it’s arms up in a dramatic fashion, and a barrage of jagged, pointed stones shot through the surface of the earth, directly beneath Croagunk. The stones ripped and blasted into the blue Pokemon, making him scream out in pain. The stones kept comings, continuing to shred and crash into Croagunk. Finally the onslaught stopped, allowing Croagunk to fall into the sand, unconscious. The crown hollered in excitement. Applause, more cheering, yelling, laughing. Palmer nodded at Dragonite and returned it. People rushed around the scarf’d man to congratulate him on a great victory.

“Whoo-man! That’s one stout Dragonite!”
“Told you, not a chance! I told you!”
“You owe me forty-five Tabs, bro. Lasted a minute and twenty-two seconds!”

Looker let a swear escape from under his breath as he returned Croagunk. “You did fine, buddy. Any other Croagunk can’t say they punched something like that before.” He pocketed Croagunk and stiffened up. The area was now too dense with people. Looker was trying to get to Johanna, and she too him. A mass of happy people were in the way, however. Palmer was slapping palms and punching knuckles as the people were still in a tizzy. He made his was to Johanna and scooped her up onto his shoulders, making her tower over the crowd. This pleased the audience, as they grew more excited and happy. She laughed and clapped her hands at all this, allowing to be paraded around by the victor.

“Hahaha! I love this town this time of year! Let’s hear it, gang!”

The volume grew louder and the crowd rowdier. Cans and bottles of soda were opened and sprayed into the air. Various Pokemon were hopping around, Water-Types sending streams of cool water over the crowd. Girls throwing off bikini tops, shirts, and bras. Men reveling in this. Seeing all this, he knew it was time to leave. He went to pick up his coat, only to see beach-goers standing and trampling on it. In a terribly disgruntled manner he half asked, half shoved the people off his now sandy, dirty coat.

He left the ridiculous scene at the beach, not wanting to be part of such a display.

Fin. Chapter 27

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Next Chapter: Trouble in paradise? How is Hayden planning to “silence” the Team Spade Members? And who did he “have in mind” to sell the Meowth Coin to?
 
Last edited:
Re: "Look" (Chapter 28)

“Look”
Chapter 28, Saga 4
By RaccoonGoon ​


Looker climbed the steps to one of the bridges above Sunnyshore. It was by now night. He found a spot near a lamp and leaned his elbows against the railing. What a disaster. He never planned for such a thing to happen. It was all so asinine. He let out a huff of air and continued to look over the city. The glow from the beach could still be seen, and the general noise was still audible.

Another figure was approaching him. The same blue haired fellow as before. He had the same emotionless expression on his face, and he too started to gaze over the city, a few steps away from Looker.

“Disgusting, isn’t it?” the pale fellow began. Looker turned his head to listen.

“That display on the beach. I live right above the beach, and hear it every summer. It’s sickening, how people act, how they display themselves and their Pokemon. If I had it my way…”

The volume suddenly increased. Something enjoyable must of happened. The two men looked back towards the beach. If one had strong enough eyes, they would see Palmer atop a Milotic, which was wiggling above the crowd, much to their pleasure.

“All that stupidity, fueled by emotions and feelings… If I had it my way, if I created this world… I’d do away with it all. If only I created it all, the thing we call “spirit“ would be no more…”

By this point Looker was quiet unsettled at the cold young man. With a general disgruntled demeanor at this point, he turned towards the other.

“For a guy who likes the inside better, you sure spend a lot of time outside.”

The man with blue hair stared at Looker with a cold gaze. He noticed the sandy foot-prints on his jacket, the wind-blown hair, and his sullen look. The stern-faced man slowly shook his head.

“And now you see why.”

And like that, he walked away once again. What was his deal? Why was he so….anti-social? He would of liked to ponder the topic, but his mind was still on the previous Pokemon Battle, the beach, stupid Palmer and his stupid Dragonite, Johanna much pleased with his presence. It was all too much to think about, so he continued across the bridge, hoping to spot the PokeCenter in order to heal Croagunk.

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Vick Hayden was sitting in a leather chair in a sunroom. Next to him was a side table with a telephone resting next to it. The man was talking into it while rapping his fingers against the arm rest.

“Don’t worry, this call is blocked and protected, friend.”

A pause.

“Yes, yes. Dead. That’s it.”

Another pause. Hayden started to nod.

“You’ve seen the news, yes? The first two should be the set of twins. They need to go first.”

Pause.

“Correct, then the other two that were caught.”

Hayden stopped his fingers.

“With any means necessary, friend. However you see fit.”

Hayden started to stand up, pleased with the talk.

“Oh, trust me. Your reward will be well worth it. I’m sure you’ll accomplish this task with ease…”

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Croagunk was healed in a timely fashion and returned to Looker. He thanked the pink-haired nurse and took leave of the PokeCenter. He didn’t know what to do next. Not “knowing what to do next” in today’s sense, more like, he literally didn’t know what or where to go next. He supposed he would return to Hotel Grand Lake and wait for Johanna to return and hash things over then. If she returned. With a frown he started down Route 222.

He really shouldn’t be feeling this way. He knew Johanna wasn’t that sort of dame. And he had to hand it to Palmer, he was a very good Trainer. Looker had thought himself confident, when he needed, and he could always draw it from within himself in an instant. But Palmer seemed to radiate it, to ooze it from his pores, as if it came naturally to him. Furthermore, Johanna had never laughed like that or cheered when she was around him. As he reached the Valor Lake Front end of Route 222 he was a tad better, attitude-wise, but still felt as if he had something terribly dense in his stomach.

He found a comfortable arm chair within the lobby and asked if, perchance, they had today’s paper. On the off chance the International Police had released the recent story, he would very much like to read it. No such story was in the paper, however, and it instead boasted in trivial matters. One article was about up and coming scientific feats. Why, did you know starting in about ten years, a group is going to try and create a Pokemon using a computer! Looker scoffed. The computers they had now were little more than electronic boxes with basic typing functions. To create an actual Pokemon with such a thing, absurd! He turned the page. Oh, this was rich. Various companies around the globe speculated someday all would have higher performance Pokeballs. “Heck,” Looker thought, “When the Pokeball was invented back in 1955 it tested every aspect of science, and was hailed as the pinnacle of progress.” He read on another page of the Poke-Transfer System Net he had learned little of on One Island, and read it would be many, many years before it was operational.

He turned to the culture section of the paper and skimmed the pages. Oh, it did talk some of the Pewter Museum break-in, but not much else on the matter. Something about the first settlement in the arid Orre Region was noted. He had heard stories from his sailor comrades about Orre. As dry as Sanshrew’s skin, they said. In two other Regions, both with frivolous names, were debating on setting up a new group of protectors, in a way, that would temporarily obtain local Pokemon, use them to complete some task, and then release them. Again, he let out a chuckle. As stated in the paper, humans just didn’t have that sort of technology to “borrow” a Pokemon in such a manner, and plus, the International Police could take care of anything. Then again, he was a tad bias in such matters. Nevertheless, such a group wouldn’t even be started until many years down the line. He continued musing over the paper for what seemed like hours.

The door to the lobby opened, and in walked Johanna. He flung the paper onto the table in front of him and stood, making the best smile he could. He couldn’t be mad at her. He just couldn’t. However, right behind Johanna was stupid Palmer, still sporting his stupid grin on his stupid face. Looker’s feeble smile vanished instantly at seeing this. The two approached and Johanna instantly grabbed hands with Looker, standing close.

“Looker, Palmer came here to apologize. He didn’t know the battle would cause such a ruckus…”

The scarf’d fellow sheepishly rubbed his right arm.

“Yeah, who knew they would act so crazy over a little battle like that, I totally get not liking the crowd thing… and hey, I enjoyed our battle, pal! No hard feelings?”

As he asked this, he slapped a hand on Looker’s shoulder. There was the “pal” again. He shrugged off the man’s hand, put on a strained smile, and nodded.

“Of course not. I have to…commend you on training such a good, erm, Dragonite, was it?”

The sheepish look of Palmer vanished and his smirk came back at the mention of his Pokemon.

“Yep! I’ve been working on training him since, oh, I was around eight or nine. Just a little Dratini. We were visiting friends in Kanto at the time, you see, and-”

It seemed as if his chest puffed out at this, he placed hand to his heart, threw his head back a little and closed his eyes as he told the tale. Looker tightened his jaw at the sight of the man.

“But next time, don’t pick up my girlfriend and carry her around on your shoulders. There were plenty of tarts there you could of-”

“Looker!” Johanna exclaimed, much embarrassed. Palmer looked at him, his face now turning to a serious look.

“Perhaps you’d like to talk up in Johanna’s room, mister Retro Lingo. I don‘t feel like whoopin‘ your Croagunk again.”

He had never felt anger quite like this. Where did this chump get off? He was an officer of the law! And by extension, Croagunk was too! Both of them insulted by this guy. He knew, he just knew that no matter how good of a trainer was, he’d never go far, never be at the top. Heavens, how he wished he’d never reach that goal.

“Sounds peachy.” He shot right back.

Palmer hurriedly started to the lift, in a hurry as always, followed by Johanna, who now had her arms crossed and anger in her eyes, and Looker, who was running a hand down his tired face. Things were just getting worse. The elevator ride up to the room was silent and awkward, and one could cut the tension with any sharp edged object.

Once in the room, the lights were flicked on and the trio entered. Johanna, still terribly embarrassed, sat on the bed and rested her face in her hands.

“You two are driving me crazy…”

Palmer hopped up on the provided writing table and placed his feet on the chair while Looker took a seat on the small sofa, sitting upright, still glaring at the blond fellow.

“Now I know you coming here to see me and Johanna laughing together looks suspicious, and it is,” Palmer began in a calm manner “But me and her are just pals. She can have other male friends, you know.”

He rested one leg atop the other knee and responded “So, tell me, who’s idea was it to go to The Beached Whiscash, and the beach? I hope you don’t mind me asking.

Palmer was taken back at this, and said ”Well, mine. After a few visits to the Vista Lighthouse, I told her about it, and she seemed to enjoy it the first time I took her.”

“The first time you took her? I take it the other two weren’t there for that?”

“N-no. Between the three of us, those two are a little slow…”

Looker smiled. “Starlys of a feather…” This little comment made Johanna cast a hateful glare at him from the bed.

Palmer continued. “And when she saw the beach, she thought it was lovely, so that’s how we started going there…”

“Hm. How quaint, you two. I’m so glad you two were so friendly…”

The scarf’d fellow was uneasy on the table. “Listen Looker, nothing happened between us, I didn’t touch her, or hold her hand, or kiss her…though, I was thinking about it…”

This struck many nerves in him and he scooted forward on the sofa and raised his voice.

“That’s just keen. A pool boy, of all people, falling in love in the summer heat!”

Palmer shot from the table and stood.

“Hey, don’t start jabbing at what I do, alright pal?” His voice was louder now too, also very angered.

“You just admitted you wanted to fool around with her, pal! Who’s really jabbing here?” By this point Looker was on his feet as well, and the two were inches towards each other.

Johanna grabbed handfuls of her hair and let out a pained groan.

“You two don’t do this! Both of you sit down!”

Palmer went on. “And heck, I bet she would of let me kiss her or, heh, other things…”

The next thing the blond fellow felt was Looker’s left fist slamming into the side of his nose. He stumbled back a few steps, grabbed his now bloodied and bruised nose, and let out a swear or two. In the same instance the young lady sitting on the bead shrieked at the sight of her boyfriend slugging Palmer like that.

The attacked man, blood trickling through his clenched fingers on his face, looked up at him, a fierce spark in his eyes.

“Just like that little Croagunk of yours.”

Before he could reply, Palmer’s fist barreled into his gut, making all the air escape him and sending a wave of pain throughout his body. He wrapped both arms around his churning stomach and slumped down to one knee, making Johanna sound another yelp.

“Stop it, stop it! Both of you just stop!!”

The man with the bloody nose backed away and plopped back down on the desk, still gripping his face. Johanna looked at horror at both of them and stood before grabbing a handful of tissues from the bedside table and went to Palmer, helping clean his injured nose. Looker saw all this while gasping for air and holding his stomach.

“I can’t believe you two! Why would you punch him like that, Looker? He was trying to apologize to you!” She was dabbing his nose with a now stained tissue, eyes of anger cast down on him.

“He…he punched me too, tootse…”

“Don’t pull that tootse crap on me! Now both of you are hurt!”

Palmer mustered a small grin, and opened his eyes.

“Thanks, Johanna.”

She smiled a little and continued to use the tissues to wipe away the blood, her free hand smoothing down his blond hair.

Seeing enough, while not actually believing it, he stood with a grunt and spun towards the door. That was it. He was done. Done with the Valor Lake Front and Sunnyshore and stupid Palmer and his stupid character and Johanna… yes, even done with Johanna. The door clicked behind him and he staggered his way towards the lift. He knew she wouldn’t try to stop him. Stupid Palmer had his stupid nose hurt. The elevator door slid shut, dropped down, and deposited him in the lobby. He retrieved his suitcase and walked out the front door. Then it finally registered he was walking away from the greatest girl he knew. The people I’ve asked many years later have told me this is the moment in his life where he finally got his trademark frown, his all too familiar grimace with the stern eyes and drooped mouth, and it was true, a terrible frown formed on his face, the saddest looking frown, in everyone’s opinion.

With his newly formed scowl, he started to walk into that long night.

Fin. Chapter 28

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Next Chapter: An assassin in International Police HQ.
 
Hey-Hey-Hey. another Canon character. Hey-Hey. A new character. Hey.


“Look”
Chapter 29, Saga 4.
By RaccoonGoon​

It was into the early hours of morning before Looker reached Eterna, made it into his apartment, and finally slumped into his bed. He didn’t stop to rest, and continued to walk and walk, eyes towards the ground. Needless to say, he fell right to sleep, hoping rest would stop the throbbing in his head.

His slumber was restless, however. The fellow’s dreams wouldn’t let him rest very much, and the terrible events of the day were flashed back at him. The Lake Front, Sunnyshore, Palmer, the battle on the beach, the other people acting absurd, Johanna pitying stupid Palmer and his stupid busted nose, him walking out. All so stupid, stupid, stupid.

While Looker was tossing and turning in his sheets, something much more sinister was happening, many miles away…

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International Police HQ, the Criminal Housing Unit. A large white steel cell block set partly under the earth. The cramped cells held a plank bed and chrome tube jutting from the floor for bathroom use. A small slat was cut from the wall near the ceiling as a window and filled with two inch thick Attack-Proof glass. In this particular cell, which, we should add, was only meant to hold one suspect, held two, a set of twins with pale blue hair, one with blue eyes, the other with green. Tim and Tom, the twins of Team Spade. Instead of the grey flight suit they wore a few days ago, they were now dressed in light orange inmate clothes.

“I still can’t believe-” Tim began, staring up at the ceiling.

“We were beat by that punk like that.” Tom finished.

In unison the two let out a sigh and leaned against the wall on the bunk.

“When they take us into questioning tomorrow-”

“We have to make sure to place all this on that Hayden guy who hired us. It’ll mean-”

“Less trouble for us.”

Suddenly, a small, rushed chuckle was heard. Who could it be at this hour? Tim and Tom were positive they were the only ones still up. At the same they looked at one another and asked “Did you hear that?” They both heard it. Another dark chuckle, louder, and to the twins, seemed to be coming from below them. Tim sat up, starting to become curious.

“Must be another inmate-”

“Being a dick!” spat Tom, not to amused at whatever this was.

This time a snarl sounded, then a cackle, then a whimper, each one louder than the last. Then they saw it. Two piercing red eyes were staring at them from the stone floor, and under them, what seemed to be a yellow grin. The face on the floor let out another eerie sound and moved closer to the bunk. The twins clasped a hand over one another’s mouth to stifle a shriek of terror. What was this thing and what did it want?

The face seemed delighted at this, and slowly morphed out of the floor, inch by inch. The more it phased through the floor the more the twins shuddered. The whole thing was shaded black and had long, hanging arms, almost resembling coat sleeves that are much too long. They had elongated back into a wispy, shadow-like point and upon it’s rump, a yellow barbed tail of sorts. The creature also had short, stubby legs, but it didn’t really need them too much, as the thing levitated and hovered. The truly terrifying thing about this doll like creature was the face. Evil looking eyes that never blinked and the mouth, my goodness the mouth, like a zipper that had been zipped tight, always smiling. A Banette if there ever was one, which had used Shadow Sneak to enter the cell.

Tom was the first to speak, something that rarely happened.

“T-Tim, look. It’s a-arm…”

“St-st-still in the floor.”

They were right, the Pokemon’s left arm was still elongated into the floor, much like a shadow. As if on command, Banette started to lazily lift another form from the ground. As it drew nearer, they could see a human hand, they thought, holding onto the Pokemon’s arm. Then a full human arm came into view as Banette had to float a tad higher. Next the upper body, the other arm, the abdomen. Once majority of the figure was out Banette stopped tugging and the figure itself started to clamber from the ground, pulling it’s legs and feet out as if the ground was made of liquid instead of being a solid. The twins were now cowering on the bunk. This was something from a horror movie, a nightmare.

The man, as it clearly was, was dressed in a form hugging black suit, covering all his body. Small red rectangles accented the suit in some places such at the chest, shoulders, and legs. Upon the face, however, was something of a different matter. Instead of eye holes cut out for vision, this character had a single yellow glass lens within the fabric, right in the center of the face, making whoever this was look inhuman and faceless. This was the hired killer Hayden had hired to “silence” the Team Spade members.

The assassin scanned the twins, only moving his head slightly. His Banette was floating by his side, sadistic expression still present. He pointed to Tim with a thin finger, making the Ghost Type release another snicker. Banette went up to Tim, who was frozen in place, and grabbed hold of his head with both arms. Before the man could scream a dark energy started to flow into his ears and head, cutting off his scream and making his whole being shake and spasm. Soon, the whole of his eyes turned solid black and blood ran from his nose. A Night Shade attack. Tom, seeing all this, scooted off the bunk, hardly able to breath. This Pokemon was killing his brother. He rushed at the cell door and was about to start banging on it and call for help, but his wrist was grabbed mere centimeters from the steel, feeling like it was snagged in a vice grip. He turned his shaking head, seeing the assassin next to him, cold glass eye reflecting his own panicked face. He had to yell something, anything, before he was killed. He turned to the cell door, only to see Banette right there, floating right in front of him, cutting him off from the door. The Pokemon raised it’s arms and brought them to the side of Tom’s face. By now the assassin released his grip on him. It was over, too late. The last thing he saw was Banette’s sneering zipper smile before everything went dark.

The twins were now dead bodies. The assassin gazed at his handiwork for a moment, then grabbed hold of Banette’s arm, signaling it to slink back into the floor and out of sight. The whole scene was done in silence, save for the Pokemon’s haunting chuckles and sounds.

The first part was complete. The next two should be even easier. They were already injured.

---------------------------------------------

An electrical buzz sounded in the cell block, causing all of the steel doors to slide open. Suspects and criminals slowly walked out of their cells with hands behind their head’s, and the handful of IP Officers and Guards made sure of this. One man, who was referred to as “The Head Jailer” was strolling down the cell block, taking roll call, checking off the cell numbers as he went. He stopped and noticed that in one cell, the one where, much to his disapproval, two twins were housed, the brother’s weren’t standing outside. With a grumble he approached the cell. This was going to set everyone back.

“You two better be awake, or so help me…”

The Head Jailer whipped into the cell, nearly stumbling over the body laying close to the door. That is when he noticed the two dead forms before him.

“What the hell is this?”

He crouched down to Tom’s dead body, felt for a pulse, and finding none, lifted up his eyelid. Black. Solid black, as if ink had been injected into the pupil of the eye. He gasped and stood, darting out of the cell.

“Murder! They’ve both been murdered!”

Soon, the whole HQ was in a tizzy. What had murdered them? Who or what had been able to infiltrate the Criminal Housing Unit? The higher-up in the main Hub Office building soon put some things together. The twins were set to be interrogated today about the missing Platinum Meowth Coin. Somebody didn’t want them to talk. IP Director Cullen knew what had to be done. Make sure the same fate doesn’t happen to the two other Team Spade members, no matter the cost. The two inmate-patients were to have a constants supply of security Guards monitoring them while in the infirmary. They couldn’t afford losing information.
Another chilling thought crept through the HQ island. Surely the killer would kill all four members, and he had killed half of them last night. The job wasn’t complete yet. They all had a fear whoever or whatever had done the murders was still on the island, waiting for the night to strike again. HQ was thrown into overdrive and full-on secure mode. The International Police won’t allow such a thing to happen. Not on their watch.

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Looker rose from his bed, groggy and still terribly sleepy. He noticed he was still primarily dressed, coat and all. Rubbing his eyes he stood and walked to the living room and plopped on the sofa. A dull ache was still in his head and stomach, and he still held the same awful events of yesterday in his mind. He felt the lapel of his coat with his thumb. It needed washed and cleaned. He took it off and folded it over the arm of the sofa.

After drinking a soda he sat back down. Gosh, he wished he had never returned home. He would of gladly stayed at HQ if he knew what a mess returning would be. Finally, he decieded it couldn’t be helped and went to the bathroom to shower and freshen up.

The hot jets of water hitting his back instantly made him feel better. He was correct, his stomach, right around the navel, was sporting quite the nasty looking purple blotch. Palmer had some pepper behind that punch. Palmer. Stupid Palmer. Stupid Palmer and his stupid….everything.

Just…Just why would Johanna think that’d be a good idea to bring him along back to the hotel after the event at the beach? Surely she knew it would only cause trouble. And why had she rushed to him instead of her actual boyfriend? Well, they had never really agreed to be called those terms, “boyfriend” and “girlfriend”, but after that night with the full moon, right on his bed, one would naturally think…

He shut off the water and started to towel off. He didn’t want to think about it. He just didn’t want to think about it anymore. After cleaning up Looker dusted off his still sandy coat as best he could. Stupid young punks, standing on his jacket like that. Why, back in his day he looked at the ground before standing on it, he- The young man let out a laugh in spite of himself. Look at him, thinking like an old geezer at the age of eighteen. Oh, to have such thoughts at such a young age. The laughing finally died off. He needed it. Needed some sort of laugh. It felt good, it felt right, even.

As narrator, I’d very much like to dive deeper into Looker’s mind during these reflection periods, but, I am not qualified to be judge of the minds. I can say, however, that, without Johanna, he felt as if something of most importance, something vital had been torn and ripped away from him, something he was frightfully sure he could never wish to get back. But again, I am not rightfully able to state that as a fact.

He figured Celia would be able to wash his coat, and, despite the initial nervousness of her asking how things went with her granddaughter, he knocked on her door. She was more than glad to wash his coat, as not many coats such as his are still around.
“So how was the Lake Front? Relaxing, wasn’t it?”

“Yes ma’m, very relaxing.” He lied.

“Oh, I’m so glad.” She continued to scrub the herbal water into the coat over the sink while talking.

“And I’m sure you went to Sunnyshore. My, how that place has changed since me and Scotty were young. You use to have to ferry across the town in boats, you know. Those bridges must be a life saver. Now I hear some people want to put these sun panels on them. My, times are changing.”

Looker nodded and sunk deeper into the old woman’s recliner.

“Johanna phoned me the other day and told her she had met a few friends down there. Did you meet them too? You’re of good character, tell me, where they… well rounded?”

He bit the inside of his mouth and slowly replied “Oh, well, sure. They were…fun.”

Celia must of noticed the way Looker shifted his eyes at the question. In a softer tone, she added-

“You and Johanna were able to spend time together, weren’t you dear?”

Another bite within his mouth.

“Yes, yes…mostly in her hotel room. We…talked awhile and caught up.”

Celia sensed the lie and, with a look of understanding, stated-

“Never be sad at how things turned out, Looker dear. She’s young and so are you. You have all the time in the world to do everything you want. You’ll both figure things out, eventually. Never be sad.”

The coat was now washed and looked brand new once again. Looker thanked her, she hugged him, and that was that. All in all, he generally felt better by then.

-------------------------------------

Once again, Hayden was on the telephone. His demeanor this time was a bit more serious, and his eyebrows seemed to be weighed down.

“So you can make it in a few days, yes? The item in question is terribly rare, and I’m sure a man of business such as you can divide the profits to- ”

A pause in the line.

“That’d be excellent. Shall I send for-”

He was cut short.

“Ah, okay. That’ll be fine. You know the directions, yes? Great.”

Another pause, longer this time.

“Oh, of course. I’d be delighted if you brought your Pokemon. I’d very much like to see it. It recently evolved, correct?”

Pause.

“Yes, I’m sure it’s quite lovely. See you then, friend.”

He hung up the phone, and joined his hands together.

“I hate dealing with those shady business types… but they pay well.”

-----------------------------------------------------

The gentlemen on the other end of the phone also hung up, pleased with the talk. For simplicity, we shall say that he was one part devilishly handsome and one part cruel looking. Terribly, terribly mean looking eyes. His whole demeanor was crisp. Short dark hair, clean shaven face, and his suit. Blessed me, his suit attributed to his two parts. While tailored fitted and extremely suave, it was a little too sharp, a little to dark, and fitted his strong shoulders a little too good. To those who are thinking this is an aged, experienced fellow would be mistaken, as this man was young, around his early twenties at least.

This man was named Giovanni, and he was going to purchase the Platinum Meowth Coin.

Fin. Chapter 29
------------------------------------------

Next Chapter: Will the ghoulish assassin complete his given task, or will the International Police thwart his plans? Can Looker shake the heavy thoughts from his head before he returns to the force? And what will come from the meeting of Hayden and Giovanni?
 
This is awesomeness. I love what you have done with Looker, of all charaters. Can't wait for the next chapter!
 
An explanation as briefly as possible: After posting the twenty-ninth chapter in November 2012 my laptop at the time crapped out on me and I was without internet access for around two months or so. During that time I banged out the last eleven chapters of this story, and planned to post them as soon as I got my new laptop and internet connection. Some things changed my mind, however, and made me not want to.

The biggest reason was simple enough, I had stopped writing fan-fiction and had started to focus on my own, original stories. I don't write fan-fiction anymore. I think it's a good starting place for writers, and if it gets young people into writing that's fantastic. Writing is so important. I want to be a writer and I want my stories published. Fan-fiction isn't something I'll probably ever write again. Or read again (unless it's something by @Flaze). I only worked on my own writing and wanted nothing to do with fan-fiction. Call me a hard-ass or a snob, I probably am.

The second reason was the release of Pokemon X and Y. They added more canon-icity to Looker, like giving him an office in Kalos, for one. In this story Kalos wasn't even a thing. Another thing was the design of the suit that the character Emma was put in. Black, sleek, faceless, a shadow-y motif, yellowish-orange glass on the face. It was similar to the character in this story named "the assassin." Emma's suit had different "powers" than the assassin's, but still. That took wind out of my sails. What were the odds of that happening?

The third was I had to essentially re-type it all. On my old laptop I used an old word processor, and when I moved the data to my new laptop the files came out very spaced out, jumbled, and full of code and wingdings and on and on. I had to clean them up, move them to notepad or something, copy/paste into a proper word processor, put them in the right order, and re-type it paragraph by paragraph, so the spacing was correct. Shortly after finding this out it seemed tedious and daunting and not worth it. I didn't think many people would read the final chapters, anyway, so I never bothered to reconstruct the chapters.

But I'm tired of having the eleven last chapters sit around. I want them gone and done with so I can finally put it behind me. I've reconstructed the chapters and kept them exactly as they were when I originally wrote them, save correcting spelling errors and such. I only made a slight edit to the story in Chapter 38, when I realized I had gotten the scale of a Pokemon wrong. They are three years old and are written in the time before Kalos existed. The most recent game at that point was Black 2/White 2. The newest Region was Unova, and I tried, even then, not to mention it too much, except in passing, as it was fairly new. Only one Pokemon from Unova is in this story.

So, yeah. I guess I'll start to post something I completed, then buried three years ago. I'm not going to re-do the whole story from the start. Either finish the narrative you're working on until it's done or scrap it all together. The writing will come out the same no matter how many times you start over.

These last eleven chapters were the result of me really paying attention to them, so they're written in a different way than the earlier, poorly written chapters I wrote in high school (lol). Not that these final chapters are "good." They're not. They use purple prose and read clunkily and aren't well written, but I really had fun with the narrative and made the narrator his own character, in a way. "Look" was and is technically the first longer work I've finished, if you count fan-fiction (I don't). I've written numerous original short story collections and a novella I'm trying to get published, before, but nothing I'd post here, at least.

I don't really want to do this, honestly, but again, I figured I can finally be done with it for good. You can review or whatever if you'd like, but there's a high chance I'll just look at this thread to post the chapters once a day or so. Review the whole thing, that's now six years old (lol) or just the final eleven chapters by themselves. I don't care. Let's get on with it and bang it out. I want it over with.

---

originally written approximately late Nov. 2012

"Look"
Chapter 30, Saga 4
by RacoonGoon​

Mel and Rex, the last two survivors of Team Spade. Rex, the proclaimed leader, is a man of white plaster. Both legs cast and hung on thin wire. Arms sticking out and up. His terribly ugly head also encased, and the medical cage even wraps most of his torso. A slit was cut in the plaster above his elbow to allow a food tube, a drainage tube, and a medical tube. Another hole above his mouth, allowing for air intake. One would imagine it to looking like a sink hole. Mel was only slightly better off. Mangled legs, a crushed right arm, a snapped jaw. These two men lay in the sterile white beds, guarded by two IP Guards. Only IP doctors and nurses are allowed within spitting distance of the two injured prisoners. This is the International Police Medical Ward, Critical Unit. Some of the more cynical, darker IP Officers call it The Crit.

These two men were under heavy security for one reason. Last night two other Team Spade prisoners, the twins, were murdered by something in their cell. Somebody wanted the Team Spade Members dead before they could sing, before they could leak any information. The International Police lived off information. They were going to make sure their prisoners lived as well.

Only Mel could mumble some pained speech at this point in time. They'd question him first, right from the hospital bed. Looker, the one who'd question him, was being sent for right this instant, all the way in Sinnoh. The trip would take a small, small bit of time, and when there might be an assassin snooping around, time is ever so sacred.

----------

Looker was sitting on the quaint little bench that sits before the large, old Dragon Statue that rests atop a small hill in Eterna. What an odd beast, Looker thought. He let air stream from his nostrils. He'd probably never see his good friend and mentor Stan again. He lost his first actual Pokemon battle to a beach bum. That same beach bum was probably with Johanna right at this moment, and he had ruined things with her. He thought hard, and accepted all this. Life, after all, wasn't perfect all the time. And besides, he thought, plenty of good things were going on. He had a home, a grand friend and Pokemon, Croagunk. He had obtained his dream job. He had brought in the bad guys. For a young lad, he was very successful.

So why wasn't he happy? The Dragon Statue stared back at him. If it had an answer, it wasn't telling anytime soon.

Second number one. The space in front of the statue lacked any form or figure. Second number two. An IP Officer, dressed in the typical blue, stands in front of Looker, anxious look on his plain looking face. Clutching onto the man's shoulders was a sleepy looking Abra.

"Agent Looker, General Director Cullen hates to inform you that your leave-time has been cut short. Urgent, pressing matters have come up back at HQ that requires your presence and attention as soon as possible."

The man said that all in one go. Impressive. Looker, standing up, stepped closer to the man.

"What happened, exactly?"

The blustering Officer went on.

"Please, sir, you'll be briefed once back at HQ. Grab onto my arm and we'll be Teleported back in zero point two seconds."

Without thinking Looker grabbed hold. He was glad to go back. Was lad to put his mind to other things. He was happy to leave home. The Abra started to glow a light purple, it's tail twitched slightly, and Eterna was International Police HQ. The Teleport was that quick. The Officer, used to traveling this way, simply stood, whispering something to his Abra, which nodded in return. The man in the trench coat slumped to his rump and fought the urge to spew vomit everywhere. His insides, his guts, felt jumbled and pained and he felt like his eyes were miles deep in his skull yet extended into oblivion, into the deepest regions of space.

"You're scheduled to meet with the others at The Crit. as soon as you...regain your composure."

With that the Abra Man sauntered off.

Looker stood, tried his hardest to look collected, and started down the pavement path to the Medial Ward, the past few days being deleted from his memories, thoughts of the present replacing them. He reached the Medical Ward and wondered if Stan was still laid up there. The check would have to wait. He didn't have time now. He had a good idea as to what this was about.

----------

The assassin's lone yellow eye saw the whole scene. Despite it, the yellow lens, being fixed in the center of his face and unmoving, saw it all. Two crippled, hospitalized men. Blue suited guards. A doctor looking at a series of screens and monitors next to the beds. A nurse, rather fetching looking if I may say, adjusting a pillow underneath a man encased in white. A few more IP Agents and Officers walked in and surrounded the man that wasn't trapped in plaster. One of these blue suits was rather stern looking and sported a rectangular mustache. Then another person. A young chap in a trench coat. Was that a scowl on his face?

Oh, the assassin would have loved to chuckle at these fools. They hadn't a clue that he was in the shadow as they were standing around like the dopes they were. Hidden in the opposite left wall gave him a grand view. A grand vantage point. This assassin, whoever he was, was more than just a hole in the wall. He was the wall.

----------

The younger man shook hands with all the other blue suits, except the mustachioed one, where he simply gave a crisp salute. The IP Guards moved back in front of the door after the doctor and nurse left. A pair of piercing red eyes and a sick yellow grin appeared next to the assassin. It too held in a chuckle. If only these blockheads could peer inside the wall! But they could not. And the Banette knew this. It knew it's task. Slowly, it sunk down into the floor, under the wall, under the rows of beds.

----------

Officer Smith patted Looker on the back and filed out after the others. Four men were now in the room. Rex in his body cast, Mel, who looked less than amused at seeing this familiar punk, this familiar punk being Looker, and Cullen, who would stay for this interrogation, as it would be the first one Looker would handle.

"Agent Looker, begin the interrogation of the man named Mel. This isn't how we usually do this, but we couldn't risk moving this one. Just look back if you need assistance."

Cullen stepped back to the wall, keeping his bold eyes on the scene. Looker took in some air and stepped up to Mel. Though bruised and battered, he could tell. This was one of the guys from the Hearthome Trophy Heist. A real busy crook, it seemed.

"Now look here. We know you, along with the others, took the Platinum Meowth Coin from the Pewter City Museum. We know a man died because of it. We know you all damaged priceless pieces. What we don't know is what you did with the Platinum Meowth Coin. But we want to. And you're going to tell us."

Mel grimaced. How'd this kid find him here? Was this really happening? Broken, caught, and being bumped by a twerp? He raised up on one elbow.

"Go on a walk, bub. I couldn't give two cares about what you or your coppers want."

Looker placed a hand in the center of Mel's chest and pushed him back down, sending waves of pain throughout his wrecked body. He let out a curse, a scream, and a gasp of pain.

"You lousy damn no good son of a bitch!"

"I doubt you got rid of it or threw it away. You're not dumb, Mel. Just tell me who you gave it to. Where'd you hide it? Who'd you hide it with?"

Mel looked at Looker's face. He wouldn't give up. He then looked to Director Cullen, who looked like he'd get what he wanted too. Finally, a gaze went over to Rex, a being of white cast, a sink hole for a mouth. Heck, the jig was up. That lousy Hayden should at least be locked up too.

"Okay. Okay. You got me. I'll talk."

Pleased with this response, the IP Agent pulled a pen and notepad from his jacket pocket, ready to write down the treasured information.

----------

If these people had any Pokemon out at this time, in The Crit., perhaps they'd be tipped off about the Banette under Mel's bed, under the floor, using Shadow Sneak. A Houndour, a Growlithe, would have sniffed out the fiend right off. A Nosepass and its olfactory prowess would have been on top of it posthaste. But, this simply wasn't the case.

The Banette slithered up from the floor, quiet as a church Rattata, now scrunched under the hospital bed. It looked at it's crumpled sleeves for arms. Which one would it use? Left or right? Left would do fine. It stifled another cackle and reached it's left arm up to the underside of the bed. The arm morphed and elongated through the bed, through the mattress. The rest of it's body soon followed.

Mel, topside, was just opening his mouth to say what he had to say. He was coming clean and giving valuable information. Or, he was until his whole frame tensed up. His jaw clenched, his eyes bugged, and it felt like something with sleeve-like hands were gripping his lungs. Soon, a whole black shadow of an arm extended itself through the man's chest, right through Mel's heart, stopping it instantly. Banette's full body soon followed, slithering up and morphing out of Mel's chest. His eyes went white, and with a horrid shudder he was dead, not even allowed to scream.

The two men saw this and were stunned. The one in the brown coat took a few steps back, not believing what he was seeing. The mustachioed one stood like a statue. Only when Banette was fully floating above the now dead prisoner, letting out a sinister chuckle. Cullen let out a yell, a roar of terror.

----------

"NO!"

Cullen was the first to grab a Pokeball from under his crisp blue suit. From it a Lucario was emitted from the flash of light. Without being instructed it lunged at the enemy Pokemon. The Banette avoided the blue attacker by slinking away, still chuckling. Cullen snapped his head toward Looker, who, by this point, had allowed Croagunk to be released.

"Looker! You and Croagunk get the other prisoner out of here! Now!"

Pokemon and Trainer obliged, rushing past Cullen, a jumping Lucario, and to Rex's bed. Croagunk hastily ripped out the medical tubes while Looker started to push the bed to the exit doors. Right now, keeping him alive was top priority. Banette zipped in front of Looker's face, big zipper grin beaming. The Ghost-Type let out a guffaw, causing him to stumble.

"Go, Looker! Don't let it stop you!"

Once again Lucario jumped at the fiend, paws formed into glowing fists, and once again Banette avoided the attack.

They were out the doors, down the halls. Smith and the others were rushing towards them. They had heard the ruckus, and seeing Looker and Croagunk pushing away Rex wasn't expected. A nurse took over the hospital bed from Looker, who was directed by Smith to take him to a secure part of the Ward. One of the Guards rushed to the frazzled Looker and asked what happened.

"The interrogation didn't go so well..."

----------

Despite the excellent attempts from Lucario and Cullen, they could not stop the Banette from bobbing around the room. It was playing with them, picking on them.

Other IP Agents burst through the door. Taking this as it's cue, Banette let out another chortle and faded into the wall. It was gone. Lucario, now at rest, perked his ears and looked towards the opposite left wall. After a snarl it ran full speed to it, and with a glowing blue fist, smashed the wall, dead center. Cullen and the others looked at the spectacle, and as the dust cleared, looked into the empty wall. Lucario stepped back, confused. He was sure somebody or something was hiding there. He had smelled something, and even more than that. It's a known fact that all Lucario, to a point, sense and detect aura in all things. Lucario had sensed something's aura, snooping in the wall. A rather shady aura, but it was there. Was. Lucario looked back to Cullen. Where'd it go?

----------

Along with the multiple levels of the Main Office Building, it also held a small series of sub-levels. Rex, now the only remaining living member of Team Spade, was in a small, dank interrogation room. A nurse and a doctor team had carefully cut away the plaster that was trapping his head. His oily hair clung to his head, and when he came to, his beady, sick eyes scanned the scene. In the bunker cave-in his nose was actually untouched. But, sadly, his nose was already crooked and ugly. The doctor pumped his system full of uppers, assuring that he'd be awake for hours.

Next he, and his white plaster legs, were placed gently into a wheelchair. Between his encased arms, torso, and legs he couldn't very well run off and escape, even if he was up to it. The hospital people left, Rex was rolled up to an iron desk. Across from him was Looker, and further behind that Director Cullen, standing against the metal door. Lucario and Croagunk were also present, and outside in the hall an IP Officer and her Nosepass were scrounged up to guard the hall and detect any would-be intruders. No assassin or Pokemon would get into the room without them knowing about it. Now, back to the interrogation.

Looker calmly sat in the chair, slapped a file on the table, and looked at Rex. To be honest, he was still spooked from what he saw earlier. He didn't even know one could die from having a Ghost-Type pass through them in such a manner. It could have easily been him. And he wouldn't be able to stop it. And the Banette's sick laughing. It was still buzzing in his ears.

"Somebody wants you dead. If you tell us where the Platinum Meowth Coin is, who you gave it to, then we assure you you'll be protected and your confession will...help you in your trial."

If Rex had enough energy he would have spat.

"I'm no snitch, kid."

Figured. Of course he wouldn't just spill it.

"If you don't tell us you may be locked up a long, long time. If you tel us, you'll-"

"I'll still spend an ass amount of time jail, rotting away. I bet I'm facing the Electrode-Chair. Either way I'm damned."

Well shoot. What would Looker do? He couldn't rough him up, he was barely holding together as it was. Bargaining wasn't working either. A tap on his shoulder. It was Cullen. He pulled Looker towards him and whispered

"We may have to just go ahead and scratch his brain."

"Do what with his brain, sir?"

"Get a Psychic-Type down here and just read his mind. It'd be the quickest way."

It would be easy, Looker thought. If they had done that to Mel he'd still be alive. The lad gave Cullen a nod. With a twitch of his mustache the IP Director reached for the door to call for another Officer.

That's when the assassin, along with the Banette, stepped, or rather, morphed through the wall. Looker, Cullen, and Rex froze at this. The assassin, wearing a strange black synthetic suit with red rectangular accents looked at them all, one by one. His yellow lens glowed, then flickered upon seeing Looker. Then to Rex. This was his last hit, the final target.

Croagunk and Lucario were in front of their Trainers in an instant, Lucario's blue fur bristling and Croagunk shuddering. Cullen's knuckles were white around the door handle. Looker, whose guts had turned to water, stood on wobbly legs and faced the slender character.

"W-who..."

The assassin turned his gaze once more to Looker and tilted his faceless head.

"The man in white has to die."

His voice seemed empty and hollow. Like it wasn't real or coming from a natural human body.

At this Cullen spoke up.

"Now look here, mercenary. This suspect is under our supervision, and we plan to keep him alive and well. So just waltz back into your wall a-"

Banette was suddenly in front of Cullen's face, it's zipper smile wiggling and red eyes squinting. The burly man stepped back. Again the assassin spoke.

"Kill the man in white, darling. The other two can wait."

Banette obliged and zoomed for Rex, shadowy arms outreached. Before it reached Rex Croagunk hopped on the table and delivered a Poison Jab right in the Ghost-Type's eye, sending it off course, missing Rex. Rex, by the way, was whimpering at actually wanting to be killed by such a spooky figure.

"You handle that, Looker! I'll grab the real ghoul!"

Lucario and Cullen lunged at the assassin, who managed to duck and slip out of their clutches. Meanwhile Banette was staring daggers at Looker and the Croagunk who attacked it out of its uninjured eye. The left eye was covered by it's sleeve arm and it seemed rather perturbed. It rushed at Croagunk with an outstretched arm, hoping to land a Night Shade attack. Croagunk hopped back right in time, and the attack missed.

At this Banette uncovered its eye, now tainted a sickly purple and scrunched up. It was Poisoned, that was obvious. Now it was furious.

At the other end of the room the assassin was still avoiding his attackers.

"Lucario, Extreme Speed!"

The Steel/Fighting-Type nodded and seemed to vanish for a split second, then reappear directly beside the man with the yellow lens. Lucario pulled his legs close to his chest before delivering three terribly quick, powerful kicks to the man's chest, shoulder, and neck, sending him reeling towards the wall.

The assassin slumped to his knees and clasped at his neck. It looked frightfully bent out of place. He looked at the Pokemon who had attacked him, and stood. He then looked at Cullen and snapped his neck back into place with a sickly popping noise.

A pounding on the steel door diverted Cullen's attention for a fraction of a second. It was the Officer with the Nosepass, hearing the ruckus.

"Sir, do you need help?!"

This man and his Pokemon were dangerous and willing to kill. Looker should have bolted. He couldn't put another person at risk.

"No, no! Keep guard outside! Stay alert!"

Cullen would have added more, but he saw that the assassin was rushing at him, hunched low. Lucario sprung into action and executed another Extreme Speed, this time zipping between Cullen and the assassin. Lucario's powerful paws swiped at the man, smacking him bluntly on the side, digging a knee into his chest, and let a mighty kick to the ribs sending the man clear to the other wall. The assassin crumpled, writhed in pain a moment, and stood again, clasping the front of his head where a face would be. Between his fingers his cracked yellow lens flickered. This was going down hill. He was stupid to have shown himself like this.

Back near the table Croagunk and Banette were still trying to attack one another. The blue skinned creature took a Shadow Ball head on, but other than that was doing fine. He was keeping it away from Rex, who was now murmuring some sort of prayer. Banette was starting to slow and show signs of the Poison. It's purple eye was now nearly swollen all the way shut and it wasn't chuckling as much as before. It was slowly weakening. It was on the ropes. Looker knew this.

"Go for another Poison Jab, Croagunk! That thing is almost down for the count!"

Croagun ran at Banette, purple glowing fingers balled into a fist. Banette rattled its zipper mouth, knowing it was no use at this point.

Suddenly the assassin took a mighty springing jump across the room to Banette. At first thought one would think the Trainer was throwing himself in front of the attack to save his Pokemon. This was not the case. The assassin landed on top of Banette and they both sunk into the floor in a fluid motion. Croagunk only jabbed at empty air.

Before anyone could speak the Assassin and the Banette rose from the floor in front of the metal door before throwing it open and dashing out. The Officer, now monitoring the end of the hall saw this and immediately ordered her Nosepass to halt the foe with a Rock Tomb attack. And that the Nosepass did. Three large, rough stones dug up from the floor and gravitated towards the duo running down the hall.

The assassin was agile enough to slip past the boulders, but Banette, with it's body full of toxins, wasn't so lucky. The Rock Tomb attack landed, trapping the shadowy Pokemon by crushing it, sending it crashing to the ground. The boulders, while packing a punch, weren't needed, as the Poison had probably done its job by now. Banette had fainted.

The men and Pokemon were now out in the hall. Cullen called to the Officer with the Nosepass.

"You deal with that, me and Looker are going after the fiend!"

They ran down the hall, up the stairs.Without his Pokemon, couldn't morph through the walls or floor. He could only use the stairs. And he did. On the first floor of the Main Office Building he darted past other IP Officers and Agents, surprising them all. Some tried to grab the fleeing man to stop him, but he slipped from their collective grasp. These same people cleared a path for the running Cullen and Looker.

The assassin was now outside, the two blue suits hot on his tail. He veered to the west, past the Mess Hall, the set of barracks, the obstacle course warehouse. He could keep up this sprint or awhile. But he knew the two men behind wouldn't give up anytime soon. Soon, the chase became an uphill race up a slope that ended with a sheer fall into the ocean below, the waves crashing against the blunt grey rocks. Dead end.

The assassin turned and faced the heaving and panting duo. Croagunk looked winded, and even Lucario had his tongue rolled out of his mouth.

"Just stop right now...and stop these games."

The faceless man looked at them. He had lost Banette. But he still had a few cards up his sleeve. One of these cards was a Pokeball. From seemingly out of nowhere he held the capsule up, pointing it between the two blue suits. Cullen roared out another demand.

"Drop the Pokeball and put your hands behind your head."

While saying this Cullen made a hand gesture at Lucario, who began charging some sort of attack by cupping his paws over the steel spike protruding from his chest. Looker was speechless. This was a real stand-off.

The assassin flicked his wrist, sending the Pokeball in a small arc in the air. As it fell Lucario fired an Aura Sphere from it's steel spike, sending the ball of energy directly at the fiend. The attack was quick as lightning as it tore through the man's chest, dead center. Blood spurted from the wound as the assassin sauntered back, stunned. He grabbed at his wrecked chest and let out a death scream fit for nightmares.

"AAAAUUUGGGHH!"

Cullen rushed forward. He had to grab the man before-

The assassin fell backward off the cliff and fell into the ocean and boulders, splashing into oblivion. Looker scooped up the flung Pokeball. It was empty, apparently Banette's. Had he meant to be attacked? Was it planned to fall back off the cliff as means of escape? He showed the hollow Pokeball to Cullen.

Cullen let out a swear and peered over the edge. Looker gazed down at the ocean as well. The brutish waves licked the grey stones. No one could have survived that. The tired looking IP Director looked at the younger gentleman.

"I'll get somebody to search for the body. You have somebody to interrogate."

----------

Rex, after coming close to death by literal inches, sang like a Chatot. Every detail, from being bailed out of Carvanha Prison, to the forming of Team Spade, the bar, the Museum heist, and the man known as Vic Hayden who organized it all before slaughtering over half of Team Spade with his deadly Gyarados. He spilled his guts about the dealings on One Island, and now the story was full circle. Looker recorded it all, and Rex was sent back to The Crit. He'd slowly heal and mend, go to trial, be found guilty of theft, vandalism, murder, and resisting arrest. He'd more than likely end up back at Carvanha Prison and spend many, many years there. His life as a crook was over, and perhaps that's his silver lining in all this. While a dastardly, filthy criminal, a close look at a charging Banette and a broken body made him turn over a new leaf. A bit too late, but what could one do?

The assassin's body wasn't found after multiple Diving searches. It was very possible that the undertow had sucked the body under and swept it away in a current. While nobody said this out loud, a few of the searchers had an inkling that the assassin had somehow survived the hole in his chest and the fall and had somehow escaped the island very well alive. But there was no way. Nobody could survive that. Nobody could pull that off. As for the fiendish Banette, it was healed, recovered, and placed under the IP's care. It would be difficult to break its...lethal habits, but given enough time she (the gender was checked, and it was indeed female) would be rather entertaining to have around HQ.

Director Cullen and Looker met in his office. The case wasn't closed quite yet. They still had to go to this Hayden fellow, find that Meowth Coin and return it to Kanto, and bring Hayden in for questioning. That'd mean a trip to Hoenn. It was decided that Looker would go by Hayden's private estate by himself, and if needed, radio in or back up.

The sun was setting over HQ. After a straining day, Looker just had to ask.

"Sir, has Officer Stan left yet?"

"Oh, yes. Just yesterday. He's back in Johto, enjoying early retirement. His office was cleared out and his things sent off this morning."

"Ah. Good to know he's back home."

"Speaking of that, Looker..."

A golden place card was slid across the desk that had "IP Agent Looker" stenciled into it.

"Stan wanted you to have his office. He said you could fill it with whatever you wanted."

Looker was touched and a bit saddened. Good old Stan. Leaving him his office.

----------

The place card was slid into the door of the now spacious, empty office. It was really his. His own office. His own desk. And a lovely view that looked over the island, off into the ocean. Somewhere, Looker thought, way, way out there past that ocean, his birth home was sitting, far behind him. Barely a speck in his memory. He was part of the International Police. This was another thing that proved it.

First thing he'd need moved into the room was a coat rack. And perhaps a tiny little mini-fridge. But he'd deal with that later. Now, he just wanted to relax. The office chair felt good and soft. Soon, his elbows were on the desk, head in his hands. So close to slumber. So close, that is, until a rapping was at the door. Already a visitor. Probably some paper work to be filed. Or somebody still thinking Stan was here.

"Come in."

The young female IP Officer with the Nosepass opened the door and took a small step inside. She was blushing slightly and had a small smile on her rather fetching face.

"I just wanted to congratulate you, Mr.Looker. I hear you handled the interrogation splendidly."

In all the chaos of the day he didn't have a chance to get a good look at her. Her hair, light black, almost a dark stone color, was tied in two tassels that reached down her back. Her eyes were purplish? Reddish? Something to that affect, but they were pretty. Even in her blue IP uniform one could tell of her slender legs and small, tight waist. She must have been Looker's age. Odd. Was she in the same Trainee group with him? He couldn't remember. He'd think he'd remember such a pretty young lass, but he never really paid attention to the others. But enough thinking and staring at her. He had to say something.

"Thank you. Good job at stopping that Banette."

"Thanks! Come down to the Water Spout Bar sometime. A lot of Officers and stuff go there to unwind. It's to the east of here, next to the Resident Housing."

"Oh, well alright. I'll check it out sometime, miss...?"

"Roxanne."

She was gone and Looker, despite his sore legs and heavy eyes, smiled. It was always nice to talk with a pretty girl. Johanna was more than likely gone forever. This made him blue, but this gal didn't seem so bad. This gal, in fact, seemed just as pleasant, if not a tad studious. He didn't want to think about it, but he did. He'd go get this Hayden character tomorrow, do what needed to be done, and come back to HQ to the Water Spout Bar and maybe talk to Roxanne more. Cullen told him where he could find a temporary sleeping quarter for the night in the Resident Housing part of the island, but Looker was passed out, asleep, on his desk, jacket bundled underneath his head.

Croagunk's Pokeball slipped from the pocket, clinked on the floor, and deposited Croagunk. Seeing the snoozing man, Croagunk yawned, walked to the light switch, jumped to flip it off, and hopped on the desk, resting his head on the back of his Trainer's head.

The sleeping figures liked where they were, and their first adventure wasn't even complete yet. They weren't out of the woods yet, and that was fine. They would be soon enough.

Fin. Chapter 30

----------

Next Chapter: Looker travels to Hoenn to find Hayden, the Platinum Meowth Coin, and the end of this whole mess. However, a Gyarados may get in his way...
 
Last edited:
originally written approximately late Nov.2012 - early Dec. 2012

"Look"
Chapter 31, Saga 4
by RaccoonGoon
​
Let us now shift our gaze from International Police HQ to a small island, only large enough to hold a lavish house, in the northern seas of the Hoenn Region. We know this place as Vic Hayden's homestead, and we know it's guarded by a rather vicious Gyarados.

The moon was out in the sky along with an army of stars. Hayden exited his mansion and walked to the edge of the water and whispered

"I'm expecting company to Fly in any second. Don't devour him, please."

A few large bubbles were the only response, which was enough for him.

Soon a large figure came flying into view towards the micro-island. When it came closer, one could easily tell it was a large, robust Honchkrow. When it came even closer, one could easily spot the young man resting upon the dark feathers. This man was Giovanni, a fellow from Kanto. Now, I must state in parenthesis that while we're all aware of this man's future exploits as a mob boss and crooked Gym Leader, that the man at this time was a young, sharp business man with a red-haired girlfriend and a large check book, as well as a knack for Pokemon.

The Honchkrow landed and Giovanni stepped down and made sure his suave suit wasn't out of place before returning Honchkrow.

"I must thank you for inviting me out. I never get the take the old feather brain out anymore."

The men shook hands and Vic gestured to the house.

"My pleasure, friend. Come, let's get indoors."

While walking up to the front door the two made small talk.

"I hear you and that little red-headed number are getting pretty close."

"Yes, yes. She's quite the dish. She's helping me with that little gambling house we're opening in Celadon."

"You're opening a casino? That's excellent. I'd expect profits to be good in that city."

"Oh, for sure. I've also dipped my toes into Silph Co., but nothing has come of it yet."

"Oh, give it time. I invested in that screw-job joint called Devon Co., and it yielded all of this."

With that he gestured to the grand entry way with its lovely chandelier and ornate tiled floor.

"We'll talk in the dining room about the item, this way. Please excuse the wine bottles littered around the table. I just finished off a glass. I do hate cleaning. Perhaps after the transaction we'll enjoy a wee nip and have a toast."

Once seated at the table Giovanni pulled a small red cloth from his breast pocket and wiped his right hand on it.

"Would you mind if I release my Persian? He's been cooped up the whole trip, and he loves being out and about. He'll stay right by me, don't worry."

"Of course, friend. I'd like to see him, anyway. Such lovely creatures, Persians are."

"Quite."

With his right hand Giovanni pulled a Pokeball from his trousers and let loose a large, cream colored feline Pokemon. The Persian had an expensive looking gem on it's forehead and leering eyes. It stretched it's impressive body out, whipped it's curled tail around, licked it's paws, and curled up next to Giovanni's chair.

"Such a good looking Pokemon. You must be proud."

"Oh, very proud. Now let's see the Meowth Coin."

"Right."

Hayden reached under the table and set a black briefcase upon it. The latches were unlatched, the case opened, and resting in the black velvet was the Platinum Meowth Coin, lighting the two faces. The beams of radiant light even attracted Persian's attention, who raised to examine it, lightly placing a paw upon the table.

"Persian, show some class."

Persian slinked back on the floor.

"Now, this took a bit to get a hold of, as you know. Men to rally, Pokemon to fund. As such, this will be rather expensive."

Giovanni placed his hands together, fingers laced into one another, and brought his coupled hands under his nose.

"Perhaps I shall tell you more about this treasure you pilfered from Pewter. This Meowth Coin came from a very rare, odd Meowth. This Meowth wasn't like any other Meowth, you know, and,"

Giovanni reached down and scratched Persian's ears before continuing.

"I know about Meowths. This special Meowth had this brilliant, dazzling coin upon it's head. So this Platinum Meowth was well taken care of, not allowed to battle or train, in fear it would evolve and the Coin would cease to exist. This Meowth lived as a king until, after a long, spoiled life, died. The Coin was removed."

"Interesting..."

"Now, Pewter City and it's museum were the obvious choice to house the Coin. But not before some scientists and brains had a look at it. Upon further analysis, a look at the atomic makeup, the researchers discovered something magnificent. Not only was the coin made of this stunning alloy, but the way it was formed, its structure, was so, so reflective. Say you held an atom up to it. You'd see a perfectly reflected atom within the Coin. This bauble, this genetic alien, was the world's perfect mirror."

Hayden chuckled.

"You're going to make it into a hand mirror for that little dish back home, aren't you?"

"Let me finish. If one could reflect whole genetic makeups, and somehow...grasp that reflection, somehow grab hold and pluck it away and make it more than a reflection...you could have two atomically identical, perfectly copied clones. A rare Pokemon would become two Pokemon. A strong Pokemon would become two perfectly similar Pokemon. Think of the possibilities. Endless. Simply endless."

"Big dreams, friend. Now, I'm not one to hypothesize over this vision of grabbing reflections and making clones, but let's cut to the chase. Fifty-thousand Tabbs is my firm price."

It was Giovanni's turn to laugh, going so far as to lean forward in his chair.

"Hayden, Hayden. I'm a young businessman who just opened a new venture and who has a grand goal in mind. I'm not going to pay you for something I want."

Hayden's green eyes grew wide. His blood pressure rose. Was this man serious?

"What ever do you mean? This is a business transaction, not a robbery!"

He rose slightly from his chair, anger growing at this sharp man's swagger.

"I suggest you sit back down, Vickie. Look to your right."

To the right was Persian, rear end in the air, perched to pounce and tear Hayden to shreds with it's ultra sharp claws. Needless to say, the man shakily sat back down.

"A Slash attack to the jugular, a Crunch attack to the skull. Persian has many ways to kill you."

Another laugh from Giovanni. He placed his right hand inside his jet black reefer jacket and pulled the briefcase towards him. Hayden protested.

"You lowly thief! I'll have my Gyarados-"

A gnarly roar cut Hayden off. He looked to the right. Persian had it's fangs bared and it took two sly steps forward, Leering at it's possible target.

"Threatening me, are we? Well, we can't have that."

Before he knew it, a mighty purple Nidoking was standing in his dining room ,towering above him.

"Wh-what are you to-"

Giovanni plucked the Platinum Coin from the case and admired it.

"Hush, hush Hayden. It's been a pleasure doing business with you. Nidoking, put our host the bed."

Before Hayden could react Nidoking's strong, hard arm swung down on Hayden's head, delivering a harsh, clunking blow. Nidoking held back just enough to not kill him, only knock him unconscious. The limp figure fell to the floor, out cold.

Giovanni, having the house to himself now, returned Nidoking while Persian sniffed the still body. The Platinum Meowth Coin was slipped into his reefer jacket, and from the other side of the suit, a fake, faux composite Meowth Coin was taken out and placed in the briefcase. Latching the briefcase and putting it next to the ice bucket, his job was done.

"Return, Persian."

Persian was drawn into the Pokeball and returned to the trouser pocket. On his way out he noticed some design pages resting on a small oak cabinet. The designs were that of the grey Team Spade flight suits, hats and boots and all. Giovanni took a sheet and admired it.

"Not too bad. Make these black and they'd have character. Maybe a better logo. Something red. A big red "R" maybe. For "red"? No. I'll think of something. Hm."

The page was folded and slipped into the suit as well. Giovanni saw himself out and released his Honchkrow well above the water and well above the Gyarados. Into the night he flew, the Platinum Meowth Coin his. Gyarados fired a few Dragon Rage attacks at the retreating figure, but all of them missed, only succeeding in making a small fireworks display.

The dapper man patted his chest, feeling the treasure. Passing the moon he threw his head back and laughed at the stars.

----------

Looker was once again in flight goggles, riding with the IP Officer with the very fast Salamence. They were going towards the northern part of Hoenn, flying southward.

His mission was to be dropped off at Hayden's estate, apprehend him, and bring him and the Meowth Coin back to HQ. Easy enough, he thought. But something told him it wouldn't be that easy.

The morning sun was rising above the blue ocean, and soon, they were circling above a small island holding a large house. Salamence dipped down and landed in front of the house. Looker handed to goggles back to the man.

"Just radio in when you're ready to leave. Me and Salamence are going to be patrolling the area."

"Roger. Understood."

"Hey, that's funny. My name is Roger. I didn't get to tell you last flight."

"Glad to know ya, Roger. Keep your radio turned up."

Roger and Salamence took to the skies again, leaving the Agent all by himself. He turned and started for the front door, releasing Croagunk as he stepped. He thought he heard a splash and ripple in the surrounding water and his spine tensed up.

Rex did say something about a Gyarados that guarded the mansion from beneath the water. This Hayden could do so much as whistle and the beast gulp him down in one bite. He pushed these thoughts away and reached the door and knocked.

No answer. No sound from the other side. Maybe no on was home. He tried the door handle. Unlocked. He opened the door and he and Croagunk stepped inside the expensive looking house.

This Hayden must have been rich out of his mind. But where was he? A groan sounded from a room to the left. At the end of a long, formal dining table was Hayden, jut rising up from the floor, clutching his pounding head. He saw the man in the coat and asked, rather rudely-

"And who are you?"

Looker grabbed a pair of handcuffs from his pocket and walked to Hayden. Pulling on his arm to stand him up, he declared-

"Vic Hayden, you're under arrest for your involvement in the Pewter City Museum robbery."

The handcuffs were slapped n his wrists behind his back. Hayden, despite his throbbing skull, thought fast.

"You mean the Meowth Coin? I don't...I don't even have it! You can't arrest me if you don't have any proof!"

Croagunk hopped on a chair and examined a briefcase. Fumbling with it, it popped open and the glare nearly blinded the three in the room. This reproduction was a very well made, convincing fake.

"You take the briefcase, Croagunk. We're taking this thief in."

"Croa."

Hayden was dumbfounded.

"No, no, no! That can't be! Giovanni stole it from me last night! He took it! His big purple Pokemon hit me and he-"

Looker yanked at the steel cuffs and pushed Hayden towards the door. They were leaving. He noticed the empty bottles littered on and around the table.

"Looks like you had quite the drink last night. I can still smell it in your breath. Sorry I woke you from your hang-over."

Now Hayden was struggling, sweating.

"No! You don't understand! He took it! Giovanni! Not me! Let me go!"

His plea went unheeded. Looker was taking him in and Croagunk would show them all this Meowth Coin. The only one who seemed to hear him was long, blue, and angry. Gyarados roared and rose from the water, right in front of the large bay window in the dining room. Looker and Croagunk turned and saw the beast charging a Dragon Rage attack between it's fangs. The attack was fired, shattering the window, hitting the table, blasting it to splinters. The IP Agent and Pokemon jumped against the wall, showered in smoldering bits of wood and glass. He reached into his jacket for his radio and the Water/Flying-Type slithered it's massive body into the dining room, enraged. Looker screamed into the radio.

"Roger! Get down here and get us out of here now!"

Hoping Roger heard he rushed to the door, The Gyarados half-way in the house, behind him firing off another Dragon Rage, bursting through the ceiling into the second floor. Flames began to appear from the smoldering table, lighting the carpet and walls on fire.

Looker, pushing Hayden along, and Croagunk ran out of the dining room towards the front door, the Gyarados right behind them. It slammed through the entry way of the dining room, maw open to eat these smaller beings, but its neck was jammed, stuck. Croagunk risked a look back at the comical sight. The Poison/Fighting-Type stared at the raging beast and inflated his orange cheek-sacs. This must have been some form of communication between the Pokemon, as Gyarados thrashed about more, crumbling parts of the wall and cracking many support beams before shooting off another powerful Dragon Rage attack.

The three figures narrowly dashed out the door before the column of purplish energy tore up the entry way, blasting clear across the house, laying waste to the whole first floor.

The IP Agent looked back. The whole house was rumbling and quaking, and, from the outside seemed to be roaring exactly like a mad Gyarados. The roof began to cave in, walls and windows shattered, and a fire was forming in it's left side.

"My house...my beautiful house..."

Salamence and Roger landed. Looker took the briefcase from Croagunk, returned him, and hoisted Hayden onto the Dragon-Type before hopping on behind him, hugging the briefcase.

"Get us out of here, Roger!"

"Going up."

They were off the small island. The mansion finally imploded and the large serpent-bodied Pokemon rose from the rubble and roared. Hayden saw this, said something too quiet to be heard, and looked away. The Gyarados was free now. It watched the flying figure vanish into the distance, writhed its might body around a few more times, and slid into the water the travel the Hoenn oceans, no longer bound to the clump of land.

Hayden didn't make a sound the whole trip back to HQ.

----------

In the interrogation room Hayden also sang like a Chatot. He detailed how he pulled bailing out all those crooks. The flock of Skarmory and the Pokemon Nursery he bought them from. The instructions and orders he gave Team Spade. The way he had most of them killed, using his now-released Gyarados. The buyers he contacted, and the one, Giovanni, who knocked him out and took the Meowth Coin.

The International Police bought all of this except the last part. It didn't match up. The Platinum Meowth Coin was right there, in that briefcase. But, just to make sure, they'd have Agents in Kanto check in with this Giovanni fellow to make sure.

Hayden was charged with robbery, murder, resisting arrest, and attempted murder of an officer of the law. His trial was set, and he too would spend years upon years in a cell, until his eventual date with the Electrode-Chair came around. From riches to nothing but a bunk with a metal tube for a toilet.

Looker, once again in Director Cullen's office, was debriefed. Afterwards, the whole case was stamped "Closed." Looker felt so much lighter now. He had done it. His first mission. His first adventure. And he was so tired. But he felt so good. He had done it.

The Abra Man was tasked with returning the Meowth Coin to Pewter City's Museum in zero point two seconds. The Meowth Coin was returned to Pewter City's Museum in zero point two seconds, give or take, by the Abra Man.

----------

Giovanni was on Cinnabar Island, in front of another large house. People called this house The Pokemon Mansion, as it was owned by a gent named Mr.Fuji, a man who just adored Pokemon of every kind.

Down in the bowels of the mansion a makeshift laboratory was being set up. Mr.Fuji and a balding man wearing dark round shades and a lab coat turned and saw Giovanni, the man funding all this, approaching them, signature smirk on his face. He handed Blaine the sparkling pill shaped coin.

"I believe this will help with that little snag we ran across. The one with the duplicating of the genes and such.

The man with the broad mustache, at this time a light brown, looked at the Meowth Coin in half terror. This was reported stolen, then returned. Before he could voice anything Giovanni held up his hand.

"This is the actual Coin, and don't fret. And, for keeping this under wraps, Blaine, you always wanted your own Gym, yes?"

Giovanni put an arm around Blaine's shoulder and walked and talked with him around the lab. Over energy tubes, pass glass holding tanks and plastic pods. Mr.Fuji scratched his wrist and turned to a large blackboard covered in blue prints and equations and names. He took this chance to pull a small journal from his pocket and jotted down a short entry. Giovanni and Blaine returned to him, the latter looking rather pleased at the promised Gym.

"And Mr.Fuji, I can't forget you, can I? You're letting me use your lovely house, after all. I know how I can return the favor."

Mr.Fuji was silent. This young man scared him. This idea he had scared him.

"Your wife's gambling debt? It's gone. Out of here. Between you and me, and my casino boys, she doesn't have a gambling problem. And didn't you want that Pokemon funeral tower up and running?"

Mr.Fuji nodded. He had had a soft spot for dearly departed Pokemon. He had lost a Growlithe as a boy.

"Then I'll see to it that it gets up and running."

He shook hands with the other two and left. He had to go check up with things in Celadon.

----------

An IP Agent walked into the Gaming Corner casino is Celadon City, Kanto. Slot machines dinged. Roulette tables whirred. He asked for the owner of the joint, and was soon face to face with a young man in a very sharp suit.

"Excellent timing, officer. I just got here as well. What can I do for you?"

He was questioned about the Meowth Coin, a mansion in Hoenn, a man named Hayden, and other such things. He had expected this. He was ready.

"I just heard on the news that the Coin was returned, and I can assure you, officer, I wouldn't go to Hoenn unless I had to, if you know what I mean."

He elbowed the Agent's arm, and the Agent chuckled. He was from Sinnoh, you see, and enjoyed ragging on the other Regions with the best of them.

Giovanni gave the man a stack of poker chips for "the next time you're in the area" and wished him well. The Agent walked to the city fountain and radioed in.

"Giovanni seems clean. Maybe a bit smarmy, but he didn't do anything with any Meowth Coin. Hayden probably just had a grudge against this guy and tried to place it all on him. Wasn't he hung-over and groggy when he was arrested? You know these rich people. Anyway, this whole fiasco is behind us."

Fin. Chapter 31

----------

Next Chapter: The case is finally closed! And we learn the fate of the ghoulish assassin.
 
Last edited:
originally written approximately early Dec. 2012

"Look"
Chapter 32, Saga 5
by RaccoonGoon​

The essential paper work over the case was filled out and filed away neatly. Looker clicked the ink pen he was using, placed it on his desk, and leaned back in his chair. His first case was closed. Rex and Hayden were being processed, and the Platinum Meowth Coin was back at Pewter, safe and sound.

The IP Agent spun around in his chair and took in the view of IP HQ Island. Stunning. Lovely. The sun was now dropping into the ocean, barely touching the water. Roger, the Officer with the Salamence was running some other errand at the moment, so he'd have to wait to hitch a ride back to Eterna. He sure wasn't going to have the Abra Man Teleport him again unless he had to, and taking any sea craft home was dull compared to riding Salamence.

So, with time to kill, he stood and left his office and walked onto one of the many paved walkways on the island. He figured he'd see what the Water Spout Bar was about. He passed the Resident Housing section, apartments that allowed Officers and Agents and other personnel to live on the island, or for tired, haggard Officers to relax between especially long and grueling cases. They looked very nice and much more than Looker's little flat back in Sinnoh. He'd have to look into the Resident Housing. For now, he'd lounge at the Water Spout, packed with what seemed like hundreds of blue suits.

This drinking place was much more refined and contained than the Beached Whiscash. Instead of rowdy beach goers and revving young punks, members of the International Police sat around the bar, tables, and booths sipping on mugs and glasses, talking to others and chuckling when needed.

Looker ordered a tall glass of soda and sat down on a wooden bar stool. A tap on his shoulder made him swivel around.

"I thought you'd end up here. Care to join me and a few others over at that table?"

It was Roxane. In here one of her braids of hair was hanging over her shoulder, down her chest. Needless to say, he couldn't say no. He ordered another soda and followed the young lady to a table. A few other Officers were carrying on about some bit of news, and when they saw Looker, this young hot shot Agent who just finished a strange mission, they all smiled, shook his hand, and commended him.

The group drank, some soda, the older ones beer and such, laughed, and shared stories. Looker shared some tales he heard from the Sailors he spent a year with, and that won him over to these strangers.

At some point he asked them about the Resident Housing, how one went about living there, who he'd have to talk to, etc, etc. Roxanne, as it turned out, lived in the Housing.

"Come on and I'll show you my place. It's just like the others."

The men at the table gave Looker a quick nod or wink. The ladies glanced at Roxanne through the corners of their eyes, some letting a ghost of a giggle escape. The two left the Water Spout.

The apartments were very nice. Real hardwood, two bedrooms, plenty of storage space, a furnished kitchen. Roxanne released her Nosepass and coaxed Looker to letting Croagunk out. Croagunk looked and poked at Nosepass, who stood perfectly still.

They young lady gave him a grand tour of the place, and living on the island seemed better and better. She stopped in the hall outside a door that must have led to her bedroom.

"Excuse me a moment. I simply must change out of this starched prison. I wish I could wear whatever I want like you Agents do."

She stepped into the room and exited a few moments later wearing a dark blue baggy sweater, but I think that was the style at the time. Her legs were covered in pink skin tight stockings. Looker tried to avert his gaze and not even glance at the fabric. Her dark hair was still in braids, however.

"Where are my manners. May I take your coat? I'll throw something in the oven or microwave. I'm sure you're starving."

"That'd be great. Thanks so much."

His coat was hung by the door, and the two were seated at the kitchen table. Croagunk was still trying, in vain, to get Nosepass to open his eyes or move. Two plates of noodles were set down and devoured. Looker learned that Roxanne, if she ever quit the force, wanted to be a teacher that taught children about Pokemon. Her father, who lived in Hoenn, ran a small school like this and was always bugging his daughter to take it over someday. As a child, however, she had a silly notion of becoming a Gym Leader. He told her, not the early details, of course, about moving to Sinnoh to join the IP, how he met Croagunk, and other such things. The two hit it off splendidly.

"That was delicious, Roxanne."

"Thank you! So, you may choose to live on the island?"

"I might. I'd never have to schedule a Fly to and from, or have an Abra Teleport me."

"Oh, I hate Teleporting. Humans aren't made to travel like that."

The dishes were set in the dishwasher and the two retired to the living room, on the sofa. They continued to chat. As it turned out, she was in the same Trainee group as him. She had done well, also, and reached the status of Officer with points to spare. She chose to live on-island right away because she knew, being native to Hoenn, they'd ferry her by boat across the water.

"Nosepass and I hate water. And grass. HQ doesn't have much grass, thank goodness."

Strange, but Looker didn't press the matter. He would have loved to stay with this gal longer, but a knock on the door put an end to that idea. It was Roger, flight goggles around his neck.

"If you're going to Eterna we better get airborne. Somebody said I could find you up here."

Looker said farewell to his new friend and returned Croagunk. She stood up and gave him a quick hug, imploring him to stop back by sometime.

Once strolling away from the Housing, Roger nudged Looker.

"So, uh, what were you doing up there with her, bub?"

"Why would I tell you, bub?"

Looker playfully nudged Roger back.

"I know how you kids are these days. Tell me when we're in the air."

He didn't tell him in the air. And there was nothing to tell, after all. Roger would just have to live without knowing.

It was now night time and Salamence landed in front of the Eterna Condominiums while its Trainer took back the flight goggles and detailed Looker's leave time. Two weeks of free time, he'd be back at HQ at the end of that time, unless something urgent came up, etc etc.

He did his routine with the lady with the lipstick, went up to his room, and that was that. He was home, back in Eterna. Back in Sinnoh. Back in his apartment, for perhaps the last time. Who knew.

----------

Somewhere, that very same night,under the very same moon, the sea was churning and rain was falling. A large, fierce looking sea vessel bounced along the waves, its crew screaming and swearing and yelling and trying to keep balanced. This would be easier without holding harpoons and spears and having to command various Pokemon attacks pointed at something in the deep blue. This was a hunting vessel for the purpose of poaching, and at this time merely frowned upon, not illegal.

These poachers were trying to fell a super huge Wailord, and had been on trying for weeks. Tonight was the night. The enormous Pokemon burst through the water for air and nearly sank the ship pursuing it. The Pokemon on the boat attacked and the men threw nets and harpoons. The Wailord, doing this for weeks, was already gouged and injured. Deep gashes were visible along its flank and belly.

A man with a long, rough beard saw the surfaced creature and his energy doubled. This was the captain of this motley crew.

"Come on, men! We have the beast now! Look at her crooked brow! Don't let up!"

The captain had his Electabuzz out on the fray. The yellow Electric-Type wore an eye patch and looked just as nasty as the captain. In perhaps a fitting manner, a great streak of lightning lit up the sky just as Electabuzz jumped forward and zapped the Wailord with a wall of jolting electricity. The Water-Type let out a death cry, writhed around a bit, still crackling in the water, and its massive body went belly-up.

The poachers and their Pokemon let out a whoop of victory and a group of them began to throw hooked ropes and nets at the carcass. After many ropes the Wailord was drawn to the ship and secured.

"Well done, mates! We'll reach land and examine our spoils!"

Another whoop.

The ship sailed through the night and landed at some desolate beach. It took the ship and all the men to haul the dead Wailord onto the sand. Finally, at long last, the men gathered in front of the Pokemon's dead, marred face. The captain took the first steps forward, his crew followed.

The Wailord's mouth and lips started to wiggle and jostle. Surely this blue behemoth was dead. No way it was still alive. The mouth started to slowly open and a rancid salty smell washed over the men, making them back up. The mouth kept rising, and there, holding up the Wailord's jaw, was the assassin.

Fragments of yellow glass were in the center of a place a face would have been. He was covered in seaweed and bile and other vile things. His whole suit was soaked and wrinkled and a dark cavity was in his chest and seemed to cut through to his back. His arms and muscles quivered under the weight and his chest expanded and shrunk as he gasped for air. That was the only sound, his breathing. The poachers were dumbfounded.

The assassin, after falling into the brink back at IP HQ Island, was indeed sucked into the ocean by an undertow. After he was flung into the deep he used everything he had to surface and take in air. His injured chest would surely kill him. The pain was overbearing and he sunk back under. Just as things were going black a looming, huge figure was approaching him. This was the Wailord, having just narrowly escaped the poachers. The Water-Type mistook the assassin as nourishment and closed its massive mouth around the man and swallowed. Past the tongue, down the throat, and spilled into the gut. Being snacked on snapped the man back to awareness. The stench was awful. It was cold, dark, slimy. He was in the belly of a Wailord. He'd be bathed in acid soon, he bet. He was cold, dying, and while not quite terrified, shocked at his current predicament.

But, for whatever reason, despite logic, he lived. The Wailord's natural mucus and such proved to stop the bleeding from his wound. When the Wailord surfaced for air the assassin was gifted with huge wafts of oxygen, and the sitting water was drawn away. When the beast devoured schools of Remoraid, the assassin feasted on them raw. He couldn't tell how long he was in the bowels of the Pokemon. He needed medical attention and fresh water and actual food. Basically, while he needed out of the Wailord, he knew it was better than drowning.

Then, on this stormy night, the poachers went in for the kill. When Wailord was zapped to death, its blubber protected the assassin from the shock. The "floor" the assassin was on stopped squirming. All the organs halted and the churning of the huge lungs stopped. All was silent within the beast as its whole frame rotated upside-down and pulled toward something. He faintly heard human voices, the scraping of sand. He was no longer in the ocean. The Wailord's throat and gullet were no longer sealed shut.

Now, here he was, on dry land, holding the Pokemon's mouth open using the last shreds of his life. Before him a whole gang of swashbuckling poachers, behind him his temporary guttural home. He pushed the mouth up a little and jumped onto the sand, free at last. The captain and his one eyed Electabuzz stepped forward.

"Were you....how in the world...?"

The assassin wasn't in a big mood to talk and go over the ordeal. He staggered to the captain and grabbed his shoulders.

"Where...am...I?"

"S-south coast of the Fiore Region."

The assassin looked north and clutched his wounded chest. He shouldn't be alive. He knew this.

"Keep...the Wailord."

With that the man in the skin-hugging black outfit limped off into the trees, still clutching at the hole in his chest. With his back turned the crew saw the awful exit wound below his neck. It looked like it had been hit with a kitchen tenderizer and left to fester. Soon the assassin was out of sight, hidden by the woodland. Gone.

The captain and his crew were speechless, but little by little they went about their job of scavenging the Wailord's body.

----------

After a grueling hike the ghoulish man came upon a settlement. He cared not that he was still in his assassination outfit. He needed help. He was still a human who wanted to live. He found a lighted building and fell through the doorway. The people shrieked and rushed to him. After looking at him he was strewn on a table. A man fumbled at the man's mask, but was unable to find a way to remove it.

Finally they just cut away the fabric that covered the man's torso. His skin was damp and bruised and pale and the wound looked infected. The assassin, at long last, fainted.

----------

He came to in a small bedroom on a small bed. How long had he been out? He was still wearing the bottom half of his suit and his mask, but the people, whoever they were, put a soft sweater over his body. They also seemed to have scrubbed his arms and torso clean. He smelled of soap. He raised up and grunted in pain. He was stiff and sore. He reached under the sweater and felt his chest. They had stitched the wound up as best they could and cleaned it, before wrapping his whole chest in bandages. Somehow, he survived.

Later in the morning, when a plump woman came into the room holding a bowl of soup, she found the discarded sweater folded neatly on top of a neatly made bed. The strange man in the strange outfit was gone. The whole area was swept. Not a trace of the assassin. He was gone.

----------

But dear reader, this is not "Assassinate, The Story of The Assassin." Let us return to Eterna City, to Looker.

He awoke, had a lovely breakfast with Celia, and told her all about interrogations and the rampaging Gyarados. He stopped down at the bike shop and said hello to his old manager, Rad, who was pleased to see him. Then he strolled to the Dragon Statue and sat down on the bench. Eterna was exactly how he left it. He had two weeks of nothing to do. He could go to Hearthome, he imagined. Or Jubilife City. Those places had things to do, he guessed.

He thought of taking a trek down to Twinleaf Town. Maybe he'd see Johanna. But he quickly dismissed this idea. She may very well still be at the Lakefront and Sunnyshore with the stupid beach and stupid Palmer and his stupid scarf. If he spent a whole day walking to some town, he'd like to know she'd be there for sure. And besides, she probably doesn't want to see him.

Stan. Stan was no longer at HQ. He was in Johto. Now there was an idea. Was it Goldenrod? He thought it was Goldenrod. Looker wasn't familiar with the Johto Region because, after all, it was just the Johto Region. They had some old bell towers. A radio tower was trying to be built. A big mountain. He hadn't a clue where Goldenrod was. And he had no way to get there. No way he could walk. He couldn't radio in to HQ for a personal trip trans-Region. And he didn't want to hike north to Snowpoint to see if an outgoing ship was sailing to Johto.

"What I need," he thought aloud "is to Fly there. I'd need a Pokemon that could use Fly, however. Hmm."

The plan was set in motion. He used his IP currency card and bought a whole sack of Pokeballs at the local Mart. He and Croagunk spent the whole morning rooting around in the tall grass surrounding Eterna and Mt.Coronet. A whole slew of Starly were out, and even the odd Staravia, but all flew off at the sight of a charging Croagunk. The ones that stayed on the ground, even after being damaged, burst from the Pokeballs, breaking them. The lad wasn't gifted when it came to capturing Pokemon. By lunch he was down to one last Pokeball.

He looked up to Mt.Coronet, then down at its cavern entrance. Then it came to him.

"We're going in the cave, Croagunk. I know just the Pokemon we need. It's wings can carry us to Johto."

The interior of the cave, as usual, was dark and damp and rocky. Looker strolled in, familiar with the place while Croagunk trailed behind him, struggling to adjust to the darkness. A shrill ringing sound echoed from somewhere deep in the cave, then flapping wings, then a screech, another ring, and a one-toothed Golbat landed in front of Looker. It opened its maw again, sounding another bike chime noise. The Golbat looked furious. It and Looker knew each other all too well.

"Long time no see, Ding-Bat."

Croagunk began to shudder and Golbat let it's long oozing tongue hang loose as it eyed the human-Pokemon duo.

"Croagunk, now. Sucker Punch!"

Croagunk leaped over his Trainer and fell towards the enemy Pokemon, who wasn't ready for the attack. The smaller Pokemon swiped a fist down between Golbat's eyes, knocking it back. The winged Pokemon took flight and began zipping around Croagunk, very angry. It flapped its wings downward sending out curved buffets of air, hitting Croagunk dead on. He was sent back, pained from the attack.

"Now Croagunk, Revenge!"

The blue Pokemon stood up, cracked his knuckles and ran at the now still Golbat. Croagunk stepped on its foot, jumped up, wrapped his legs around the base of a wing and began to bash his fists into Golbat's back, head, and face. The Poison/Flying-Type wriggled around but couldn't throw the hitting Pokemon off. Soon, it slumped to the ground and Croagunk let up on his onslaught. The weakened Pokemon saw Looker pull a Pokeball from his pocket and prepared to throw it. It wasn't being caught. No way. It tried to pick itself up and flee, but the Pokeball hit the beast square in the back, clicked open, and flooded Golbat in a red light energy before snapping shut and latching. The Pokeball wiggled once, twice, and thrice. Looker caught a Gobat. The same vile Golbat that took a chunk out of his arm his first night in Sinnoh. Now trapped in a ball and domesticated.

The Gobat and Croaguk were healed at the Pokecenter and the nurse informed him the new Pokemon was male. Looker thanked the nurse and went back to the Mart. Luckily they had one Fly HM. Back outside, by the Dragon Statue, he and Croagunk gazed at the Pokeball holding Golbat. Looker held the small disc, the HM, in his fingers while Croagunkheld the Pokeball. The disc fit right on and around the button of the capsule, much like a CD player holding a CD. The HM disc began to spin wildly on the Pokeball before slowing and ejecting itself off the button. Looker pocketed it and took the Pokeball back.

"Well. I guess that's that. Let's see how he likes it."

Golbat was released. It still looked terribly angry and disgruntled, but it didn't snarl or try to attack it's new trainer. That was a good sign at least.

"Golbat, I know we've never been friends, and we've had our spats. But, you're now out of that dank cave, and now you're able to use your wings more."

This did nothing to convince Golbat to chill out. He let out a low, hollow ring and kept glaring. Croagunk, understanding what Golbat was going through, approached the winged creature, beckoned it to bend down, and whispered something in his ear. I, not being a Pokemon, cannot tell you what Croagunk said, as to you and I we'd only hear a faint

"Croagunk. Croa. Croa-Croa-Croa. Croooaaa."

He then nudged Golbat with his elbow, winked and walked back to Looker, his job done. Golbat relaxed his face, waddled to his new Trainer, and ran his long tongue over Looker's face, a sign of friendship. The human chuckled and pushed the tongue away.

"I take it we're pals now. Great."

After finding out how to get to Johto from Celia, he'd Fly there and visit his friend Stan. It'd be great. It'd be fun. It'd be great fun.

Fin. Chapter 32

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Next Chapter: Looker takes his first solo-flight to Johto.
 
Last edited:
originally written approximately early Dec. 2012

"Look"
Chapter 33, Saga 5
by RaccoonGoon​

Celia, the next morning, pulled out a very dated map, a map printed a little after the War. This was evident as the border line was separating Kanto and Johto. She directed Looker south-west of Sinnoh, and if he kept Flying that way, over an ocean, over the Orre Region, and over an empty, desolate plain, he'd see a huge mountain. Mt.Silver. When he flew over that, he'd be in Johto.

"Johto is stunning this time of year, Looker. Johto is perhaps the only Region still dealing in the past. Some young types like you want to set up a radio tower. Wouldn't that be bizarre! But it really is a nice place."

Looker thanked the sweet old lady, made sure his apartment was locked up, and stepped outside and released his newly caught Golbat. He told his new Pokemon about the long flight ahead and hopped upon him, hooking his legs over the wings, holding onto the top of Golbat's head, piggy-back style. He had never commanded a Flying Pokemon, never flown alone like this, and Golbat never flew in the sky before. In the trench coat pocket Croagunk's Pokeball jiggled. He was anxious about this as well. So many things could go wrong and so many bones could be broken.

"Okay Golbat, just start flapping your wings and try to stay steady."

Golbat lifted off the ground in great gestures, wobbly at first, with his purple wings and rose higher and higher. Soon Eterna was hidden underneath some clouds. They were going up, but not out.

"Okay, whoa. Okay. Good. We're high enough now. Now go, uh,"

He scanned the blue sky. All sense of direction had been lost in the clouds. The faint sky-line of Jubilife could be seen to the south-west.

"That way."

He pointed and Golbat began to soar forward in lunges. The IP Agent grabbed hold of the Pokemon's ears and found he could steer his mode of flight that way. Soon they were Flying at a good pace, passing landscapes and cities.

They hit the ocean, acting as a huge blue blanket below them. Golbat let his tongue dangle in the air. He never imagined all this was outside Mt.Coronet. Perhaps this annoying human wasn't so bad after all.

Despite the excellent oceanic scenery, the flight over the ocean was dull. He looked behind him, Sinnoh long gone. To his west he saw a dusty, sand brown landmass that lacked much greenery. Orre, the desert Region. Golbat wouldn't mind a break, but Looker hadn't a clue as to where to rest in Orre. The whole place was one big sand-pit. He was getting closer to his targeted destination, anyway.

Soon he was over the great plain north of Kanto. You know the one. The one with nothing in it. A blank space. He veered Golbat a little to the right and sure enough Mt.Silver and its massive shape came into view. It was quite the mountain. They would rest at the base of it.

"Head down there and we'll take a break, Golbat."

Mt.Silver looked even more intimidating when one was looking up at it. A grassy field surrounded the base of the mountain. Ponytas were galloping about. Tangelas were rooting around. Croagunk explored the area a bit while Crobat laid on the grass, resting his wings. Looker looked to the east. Kanto was just a few miles that way, with Johto a few miles to the west. A huge mountain dividing the two. He thought about the War. There was a time when there was no border, and Kanto and Johto were one super-Region called Kohto.

The War, called simply that by all, was really the Kanto/Johto War. Who would claim the massive natural landmark and decide its fate? Johto-side wanted it, as they loved nature and tradition, while Kanto-side wanted it for the sole purpose of real estate. A skirmish broke out, then a battle, then a war. Soon the big four, Kanto, Johto, Sinnoh, and Hoenn, were all spatting and aiming Pokemon at one another. Hoenn, just now truly developing at this time, wanted the string of small islands in Kanto's south-east ocean. A huge island should own little islands, after all. So now Kanto was figthing Johto, who knew the of the pollution of those industrialized, filthy Kanto-ians were known for. Synthetic Pokemon, for pity's sake, and Hoenn, the adamant island Region who wanted a monopoly on all islands. Sinnoh, for the most part, stayed neutral and sold supplies to the others.

Many of Kanto's people, mostly adult men, perished in this dark war. Koffings were dropped into neighborhoods, Glimers were slipped into water pipes, Voltorbs lobbed at other humans, them too lobbing Voltorbs. Men died, leaving behind wives and babies, and the amount of grown men shrunk, which is still evident today, and probably will be for decades to come. Johto, too, suffered. Kanto cut off most of it's trade and commerce. In the end of it all the two main Regions came to an agreement. Johto could claim the mountain, the now border between the two, but would have to function as it's own Region. Hoenn failed at it's attempt to gain the Sevii Isles. Kanto fortified and defended them too well (as seen in the military warehouses and underground bunkers found there). Hoenn accepted defeat gracefully, of course. They were much too care free to mind it all that much. Sinnoh profited from the War and used the wealth to build Jubilife City. It was said that Kanto "won" the War, which went on for twelve grueling years, for it had its own electrical grid, three caves, and a mountain to work around.

The other Regions of the globe, Orre, Fiore, Almia, Unova, and others that slip my mind right now, were hardly affected. Unova detested such a war, while they themselves stocked up in areo-planes and such for the span of the War. But that's a whole new tome of stories for another time.

And now all the Regions got along swell. It happened back in the Twenties and Thirties, anyway. It was old news. This story isn't about war history.

Looker was once again on Golbat, heading west, towards Goldenrod City. They passed a waterfall. A tall tower came into view decorated with bronze Bellsprouts. A taller tower a little later on came into view. Then another tower that seemed to have burned multiple times. Golbat veered to the south over a bustling city that looked out to the ocean. Goldenrod.

Once landed, he asked the nurse at the Pokecenter if she knew where a retired IP Officer lived. The nice woman thought, then shrugged. She couldn't think of any member of the IP living here. He thanked her and stepped back outside. Now this was a problem. The city was rather large. How could he possibly locate Stan in all this?

Street lights flickered on and neon signs buzzed to life. Night time in Goldenrod.

----------

The assassin took a long, dreadful barge to escape Fiore. He hadn't a clue of where it was heading to. He just knew he had a few things to attend to. One was, of course, to replace the ruined optic lens in his mask. If this floating box stopped in Kanto he could dash to Silph Co.and surely find something like that. He would also have to replace the top of the suit. He couldn't run around with a bare chest, showing off his brutal scar. On that note, Lucario's Aura Sphere, crumpling his chest cavity, broke apart against his ribs, sending out tiny energy pellets shooting out his back. Luckily, none of these lethal bits of power severed his spine. I cannot stress this enough, the assassin shouldn't be alive.

Step two was to find his way back to Hoenn, back to the man who hired him, Hayden, and get paid for the targets he did manage to kill. After being beaten, Aura Sphere'd, swallowed by a Wailord, hiking through Fiore, and sneaking on a barge, he deserved at least some of his reward. And he had lot his darling, his Banette, on this job.

That was step three. Getting his precious companion back. There was no telling what horrors those blue suits were subjecting her to.

"Darling."

The barge, after an eternity of sailing, stopped. It was at some dock. He opened the crate he was hiding in. Two burly Machokes were walking up. He slid back between the two huge sacks of Pokechow. The crate was lifted by the Machoke duo, and did as they were told. The crate was carried off the barge, onto solid land, and through a city of some sort. It sounded and smelled like a city, anyway. He risked a peek. He was right. It was a city. Fuchsia Cty. He was in Kanto after all.

The Machoke duo kept walking, past a gatehouse, past another gate, and into a jungle of sorts, dense green vines and balmy air. The Safari Zone, as it was in this point in time. The crate was set deep in the jungle. Soon, some worker would come and take the Pokechow away. The two Machokes started to hike back, more crates to be lifted.

The assassin escaped the accursed box and scanned the area. He was in a terribly thick jungle, that was certain. It was getting dark, and the titan-sized trees blocked out any fading light. But the assassin was no stranger to the dark. He would waltz right on out of here. So he started to.

A green thicket rustled somewhere. A Pokemon cried into the night. Something ran behind him. Then something was running at him from behind. The trim man ducked just in time as an ultra-sharp blade passed over him. The green menace halted and spun around, looking at the prey that had avoided it. A wild Scyther. This green bug-reptilian looking Pokemon had a crisp pair of wings, clawed feet, and no hands. Instead, two menacing blades were attached to it's arms. Scyther, a Bug/Flying Type, put the weak Bug-Type to shame. One wouldn't dare call this a bug. The Scyther growled at the assassin, who gazed at his attacker.

Scyther lunged again, blades pointed at the man's head. The left blade went between his arm and torso. The assassin caught the Pokemon's arm in a hold while Scyther raised it's free blade upward, preparing to strike. The bladed arm fell, and it too was snagged by the assassin, gripping the arm in the low dull spot. Scyther was caught, so it began snapping it's teeth at the man's head and using it's legs to push him back. The assassin pushed back as well. Scyther then utilized it's wings for help. The assassin's feet left the solid ground and he and the Pokemon were zooming into the dark jungle.

A crash and a sudden halt stopped the short shallow flight. They had ran into a large tree, Scyther's blades sinking into the bark. It tried to pull them out, but it was no use. The assassin slipped from the beast and admired it's struggling figure, it's blades halfway in the tree. The man backed a few steps before delivering a swift straight-legged kick to the Scyther's blade. It snapped off with a crack, sending waves of pain throughout the Pokemon's body. It snarled in pain and tried harder to escape.

The assassin plucked the blade from the tree and hastily thrust it through Scyther's chest, splattering him with warm blood and killing the Pokemon instantly. He twisted the blade to make sure. The green Pokemon slumped against the tree, one blade in the tree, the other in it's chest.

The human ghoul walked from the jungle, out of the Safari Zone, into Fuchsia City. He'd go north, to Saffron, to Silph Co., and see if they had the proper attire he needed.

----------

Looker spent the evening asking people if they knew about a retired IP Officer. Only about half of them comprehended what he was saying. It seemed pointless. It was full-on night now, but Goldenrod was still awake.

He found a shabby little eatery and sat at a table. He ordered a soda and some food and rapped his fingers on the table, using his other hand to stroke his chin. It couldn't be that hard to find Stan. But perhaps Stan lived on HQ Island all these years. Goldenrod could have forgotten him. Two more fellows sat at the table next to him. One had a mohawk and wore dark sunglasses. The other was wearing a dirty plaid jacket and smoking a long cigarette. They snapped out their orders to the dainty waitress and began to chat with each other.

"I was boppin' around that neighborhood by the ocean today, right? Some cat was lounging on a chair outside, wearing shades older than mine. Looking like a bloody fool, smiling. He asked me how big the Trapinch hill was. I asked what he was talking about, and he said it looked like I fell head first into a Trapinch hill! Whoa! I nearly clonked his head right off that lawn chair. Ooo-wee! Man. People these days."

"Whoa! Damn damn damn! These old folks, pal."

"He ain't even old! Not a kiddie, you know, middle aged. But the guy kinda seemed like a kid. A big, tall kid. But he did have a cane leaning by him and a brace on his stupid leg. Ooo-wee!"

"Shiiit. Nutty people, man. What can you do?"

"I'll tell you what that nutter should've done. He should've shaved his damn sideburns and left me alone! Whoa!"

"Shit! Ain't no real people like that out there!"

The fellow with the brown coat at the other table heard all this. He hadn't even thought about the part of the city by the ocean. He heard the men talking, imagined Stan, laying on a chair giving trouble to this gentleman and his absurd haircut. It had to be Stan. The shades, the sideburns, all of it. He started to laugh out loud at the thought. The other two noticed and looked over.

"Whoa! Man, you think that's funny? I'll box your jaw! Shit!"

Looker tried to compose himself. He really didn't want trouble.

"Sorry, fellas. I was just remembering an old joke I heard."

The men looked at one another, then back to Looker.

"Man, don't be talking that funny-talk with us! Say something we understand! Whoa!"

Oh he couldn't believe it. He'd have to talk in a way they understood.

"I heard once, as child, a guffaw saying about man who fell on a Trapinch mound. The man became very ugly and the girls, they pointed and guffawed. You, the man with the hair mistake, are in the joke."

The punks understood this and turned red. They flipped the table and stood, fuming.

"Whoa! Look here, kid. I'll show you something to guffaw about!"

The man with the hair mistake pulled out a Pokeball and gripped it tightly. Looker didn't mean to anger the men this much. The waitress, holding Looker's order, shrieked. The other people in the eatery stopped their meals and began to watch the confrontation. Looker turned to the waitress and smiled apologetically.

"Excuse the hold up, miss."

"Stop flapping your mouth, dweeb! Stand up and let my Pokemon whoop you!"

In a flash of light a grumpy looking Granbull was standing upright, foaming at the mouth, ready to tussle.

"Better get ready to be chewed up, boy! Whoa! Ooo-wee!"

Looker stood. Why not? He was on a break, in this foreign Region. He was young, stupid, and between you and me, dear reader, he wanted to prove himself by winning an actual Pokemon battle. He was devastated when Palmer beat him at Sunnyshore. Ashamed, even. He had to prove it for himself.

"Croagunk, lets try to talk these chaps down."

The blue skinned Pokemon was also sent out, where it began to shudder in anticipation.

"Granbull, Rage that little squirt!"

The paste colored Pokemon with the floppy ears charged at Croagunk and beat it's balled fists against Croagunk, croaking in pain and taking the blows. After the initial attack Croagunk was lifted above Granbull's head and thrown clear across the joint, smashing into the vintage looking jukebox, stopping the tunes. People hollered and cheered. They loved a good battle, and this one had a savage start.

Croagunk, slumped against the smashed music machine among broken glass looked down for the count. Granbull wasn't done yet, and it stomped over to it's oppenent, ready to lay into it again. It stuck it's nose close to Croagunk and sniffed. Now was the chance.

"Croagunk, Sucker Punch!"

His yellow eyes snapped open and a three-fingered fist delivered a strong uppercut to Grabull's jaw, sending it reeling back. The people loved this.

"Now, Poison Jab!"

Croagunk was up and punching Granbull in the stomach multiple times with poison-tipped fingers, hoping to fill it's system with toxin. They weren't that lucky, however, as Granbull recovered and executed another Rage attack, punching Croagunk straight in the face, lifting him again, and punting him onto a nearby booth. The glasses and dishes were pushed aside, and Croagunk landed on a plate of fries. He rubbed his blue face, reached down and plucked some fries in his mouth, painfully rose up, and poured a nearby glass of water over his head to cool himself off. The people seated at the table whooped and cheered him on.

"Damn it, Granbull! Make sure he stays down! Whoa!"

The muscular canine-like Pokemon barked and hoisted up an empty chair, brandishing it as a weapon. This was no longer a Pokemon battle. This was a brawl.

Granbull ran to the booth and swung the chair down at Croagunk, who bounced over to the next booth as the chair shattered and broke apart. Away from his attacker now he sampled a soda of some kind. Granbull was once again upon him, trying to bite Croagunk's legs. The smaller Pokemon threw the drink in Granbull's face, but that only angered it more. Croagunk looked at the empty glass, to Looker, then shrugged before flinging it at Granbull. It shattered on it's skull, and the burly Pokemon let out a howl of pain. The Poison/Fighting Type hopped from table to table, behind the enemy Pokemon.

"Revenge, Croagunk!"

Granbull was sent to the floor, Croagunk pinning it down and slamming his fists all over it's body, mostly the neck and head. It was never-ending and Granbull couldn't wrench the Pokemon off. Finally, the struggle ended and Granbull was still. Croagunk stood and started back towards Looker.

"Whoa! Whoa! Granbull, stop playing and get up! Mega Punch that scrub's lights out!"

The light purple beast rolled over, got up, and barreled towards the Croagunk, mighty glowing fist outreached. A trail of foam flew from it's fanged mouth. It was putting everything in this punch. Croagunk had to act fast. A pepper shaker had fell to the floor in the battle, it's top jostled loose. It was grabbed by three black fingers and flung at the charging Pokemon. The shaker emptied it's contents in Granbull's eyes and nostrils, as well as shattering upon impact. The beast let out something between a cry and cough and veered off course, away from Croagunk, into the front counter. The crash was loud and amazing. Granbull lay in a heap of smashed wood. The people were silent a moment, then burst into cheers and applause. What a battle! What a scrappy pair of Pokemon! The combatants were returned.

"You damn dirty lousy mutt! Whoa! Damn it!"

Looker sat back down and turned to the waitress again.

"Alright, sorry about that. The food smells delicious!"

The speechless waitress set the plate down. He grabbed his fork, ready to dig in. Before one bite passed his lips he was seized by a pot-bellied chef and booted out the door, followed by the two punks.

"If I see you kids around my restaurant again I'm calling the police! Now get lost!"

The door slammed shut. The man in the plaid jacket spoke.

"Whoa! I'm getting out of here. You always cause messes!"

"Shit! I ain't getting in no police scrap!"

The two men ran off. Looker would have very much liked to inform the men had all ready dealt with the police tonight, but he let it be. He won the battle. That was victory enough. He started down the sidewalk to the ocean neighborhood. He hoped he could find Stan's house and hopefully he was still awake. Stan wasn't the kind to have and early bedtime, surely.

Fin. Chapter 33

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Next Chapter: Looker and Stan catch up! And will the assassin accomplish any of his plans?
 
Last edited:
originally written approximately Dec. 2012

"Look"
Chapter 34, Saga 5
by RaccoonGoon​

He figured the house with the lights on was Stan's house. And it was. The friends shook hands and embraced one another as friends do.

"Looker my man! Come in, come in!"

Stan's house was much like his office. Odd items in every corner and cabinet. Stan had a brace on his left foot and used a cane in his right hand to help walk. He sat on a large recliner while Looker took a seat on the couch.

Looker told him that the case was closed, the bad guys caught, and the Platinum Meowth Coin returned. This pleased the older man immensely.

"That's great! You really got 'em!"

Late into the night the men caught up with one another, even though only half a week had gone by since they last saw each other. Stan seemed to be healing well, he would need the brace for another week or so. He'd always need the cane, however. He had bought a new pair of shades and his sideburns seemed to have gotten longer. He high-five'd Looker for capturing Golbat.

"I'm thinking of actually living on-island. It'd be so much easier, really. Golbat barely made it to Johto."

"The housing there is pretty nice. I had an apartment there, but I usually slept in my office or the Mess Hall. Hey, I don't think they've taken my name off the registry yet. If it's not taken when you get back, tell them you want my old place."

This guy had given Looker confidence, guidance, an office, and now a whole apartment. Stan truly was a swell guy. The swell guy stood up and yawned.

"Spread out on the couch, pal. We're getting up early tomorrow."

They hadn't even talked about spending the night. Looker hadn't even packed anything.

"Why are we getting up early?"

"Tell me, have you ever been on a Safari?"

He had not.

"Well tomorrow we're heading to Kanto's Safari Zone, so rest up.".

Why not. Looker had time to do that. And it did seem fun, to root around trailing wild Pokemon.

Stan walked off to his bedroom and Looker threw his coat over his now reclined body.

The house grew silent and the chaps fell asleep. Goldenrod stayed awake.

----------

Melvin, a rather smart fellow, was in the basement of the Silph Co. building. One little electrical fire and you're stuck on inventory duty. What bunk, he thought. He was a scientist, not some item dragoon. He sighed and continued counting the boxes and crates.

He heard something lightly land behind him. It was a slender man in a black mask with a horrendous stitched scar on his chest. The figure was splattered in blood. His own? Some other person's blood? Melvin's legs failed him and he froze. The assassin strolled up to the scientist, grabbed the lapel of his lab coat, and with a grunt hoisted him into the air.

"Please don't kill me. Take whatever you want. Oh, please don't kill m-"

"Silence."

His cold voice muted Melvin's whimpers. The assassin's fragmented optic flickered when he read the man's ID tag pinned to his coat.

"Melvin. I need you to find me a lens of some sort. A yellow glass one about this size. Originally used in antique Pokemon Encyclopedias."

The assassin strained his head toward Melvin, who saw his splintered reflection in the glass.

"Surely you have some of the blasted things laying around. Understand?"

The scientist nodded frantically.

"Silph makes those rubber gaskets and energy tubes used in Pokemon healing machines, I know you do. Bring me a roll of that material, a blow torch, and a skewering needle."

"Y-yes, yes. Anything. I know where all that stuff is, I can get it for you right now."

Melvin was dropped and he darted around the shelves, beginning to search for the items. A sick sounding growl emitted from the assassin's flat stomach.

"One other thing, scientist. I must eat."

The scientist gulped, nodded, and began his search again. A bit later the assassin had a small work table of sorts set up in the corner. He was carefully hunched over, cutting out a new yellow eye, making it look just like the last one. It was a delicate process, and pleased with his ho-hum job. The suit was all ready sewn, the hot needle helping in cutting the durable material and re-fitting it. The assassin tried this on first. Perfect fit. It lacked the red rectangular details as before, so it didn't match his legs, but he could live with it. His stomach growled again. He hadn't eaten in days.

"Melvin. Food. Run out and bring me food. Bring me enough. Don't think of trying to get help."

The scientist yelped and flew up the stairs to find food for the ghoul. Alone in the basement the assassin peeled off his mask. Only he knew the certain way it could come off. It clung to him and the air refreshed his pale skin. Now, we can learn what the mercenary actually looked like. Or, we could if he hadn't leaned back in the shadows right as the mask came off. Only his hands stuck from the shadows as he replaced the yellow optic, making sure to attach the small wires to it, activating it to the mask. His job was complete. He had his suit and face back.

Steps sounded overhead. Melvin was back. The mask was pulled back on as Melvin, with three fast food bags worth of food, stumbled down the steps.

"I tried to get you everything on the menu, a-"

"Silence, scientist. Give me the food."

The bags were snatched up and the assassin stepped back into the blanket of shadow.

"Walk to the far wall and turn around, now. If you try to look back I'll kill you. Go."

He did was he was told. The assassin pushed his mask up enough to free his mouth and jaw. Even from across the room Melvin could hear the man chomp away at the food. He must be inhaling them. The food was devoured and the floor was littered in wrappers and napkins.

"Come here."

Melvin did as he was told. The assassin was now standing, mask pulled back down.

"You did good, Melvin. I won't kill you. Not tonight.

"Oh, thank you! Thank you! I swear I'll never speak of this! I-"

"But, you forgot my drink."

A powerful chop thundered against Melvin's throat. The blow sent him to the ground in pain. As the scientist was coughing and groaning the assassin seemed to vanish, for when Melvin looked back up, he was gone. It's worth to note that Melvin, from that moment on, sounded like an old chain smoker for the rest of his days, and he never forgot to order a beverage ever again.

----------

Looker and Stan jumped off Staraptor in front of the Fuchsia City Safari Zone. It was an excellent day for a hunt. Stan was wearing a tunic of some kind, with six Pokeball-sized loops criss-crossing his chest and a comical looking pith helmet. Looker was wearing his usual attire, though he removed the tie and stuffed it into his coat pocket.

The men paid the fee and were handed a satchel bag of camouflaged painted Pokeballs each. Back during the War Kanto had produced an insanely high number of these "combat Pokeballs" for the soldier-trainers to use. Now, with the War long over, they were using the leftovers, now branded Safariballs. Stan instantly plucked six of them in the bandoleer. The great Poke hunters were ready. They marched across a grassy prairie. Some Rhydons were grazing and a herd of Khangaskhan were watching their young mill about.

"Hm. Nothing too good here. Let's keep going."

The two were soon in a dusty canyon. Stan said he sensed something good and told Looker to stay put while he went around the bend. The younger man wondered what he was up to, but soon stopped thinking when Stan came running back around, a stampede of Tauros behind him. They ran, hundreds of rushing monsters behind them. A body of water presented itself and the humans jumped in, saving themselves from being trampled to death. The two surfaced and got back on land once the stampede had passed.

"You shouldn't be running with a bum leg, Stan." Looker spluttered.

"It was a light jog for me, Looker, plus it was worth it."

He held up a Safariball and smiled.

"I caught a Tauros while it was feeding. That's why they all started to charge at me."

"You're insane."

Looker helped Stan up and laughed. So far Stan was in the lead.

It's safe to say Looker became a fan of big Poke hunting in the Safari Zone that day. His first catch was when they had been chased up a tree by a charging Rhydon. A Nidorino walked under the branches in search of shade. Looker seized this opportunity by dropping a Safariball atop the Pokemon, too surprised to break free.

"You must have a thing for Poison-Types."

Stan spent around ten Safariballs on an Eggsecutor, all of which burst. The Pokemon would not be captured and it ran into a dense jungle. Stan spat, scooped up some pebbles, checked how much Pokechow he had, and started for the jungle, cane waving.

"Sheesh Stan, let it go."

"Never! If we have to enter the heart of darkness so be it! This ivory cane is what propels me!"

"That's wood."

"Enough! Into the thicket!"

Into the jungle they went. Pokemon were crying and growling in the shaded place. The due came upon a small clearing that held a wide tree. Pinned to this tree was the dead rotting carcass of a Scyther. One blade was sunk into the tree trunk, the other through it's chest. A white film had covered it's eyes and the wings had fallen off.

"Sweet mother of mercy. What sort of Pokemon did this?"

"I don't know, but, uh, let's not stick around to find out."

They concurred and started to leave the jungle. The rest of the safari went well. They examined a small formation of rocks. One of these rocks floated up, opened it's eyes, and swung it's fists at the two. This surprised them and Looker flung a Safariball at the Geodude. It must have been a low level, as it was easily captured.

"Good catch. But why do you need a Geodude? That's not a Poison-Type!"

"Pin it on your nose, Stan. I may give this to some Officer back at HQ."

The hunt came to an end as the sun was setting. It was a good day, indeed. As the tired men were walking back to the entrance Stan was grumbling about Looker capturing two Pokemon to his one. He swung his satchel of Safariballs to his other shoulder. The canvas ripped, spilling three or so of the capsules onto the dirt.

"Aw sonuvabitch!"

The man with the cane cranked a leg back and kicked one Safariball clear into the air, over a large space of field, and directly into a Chansey, hiding in a bush. The impact of the falling Safariball stunned it enough, flooded it in light energy, and clacked shut. Chansey was caught. Looker nor Stan could believe it. The latter pumped his fist in the air and cheered.

"Ha-ha! Yes! Two to two! Tied!"

The men returned the safari gear and left. Stan pulled out a camera, had the safari Pokemon released, and took a picture of the trophy hunts. After much talking over dinner at a Fuchsia City restaurant the men agreed that Stan had caught the more desirable Pokemon. Catching a Chansey was no easy task. Unless you were Stan, of course..

"Any other business you need to do in Kanto?"

"Well, I was thinking we could go to Pewter and say hello to the museum staff and police chief there. See how things are going now that the Coin has been returned."

"Good idea, let's leave now. It's not that late."

Pewter City, the dull, grey little settlement was even more dull at night. Everyone was turning in. The men stepped into the local police department, asked for the chief, and were greeted by the chief himself. The local level cop was glad to see them again and thanked them for returning the Meowth Coin safely.

"Don't thank both of us, chief. Looker here is the one who actually got it back."

The chief shook both their hands heartily regardless. They asked if the museum was still open and he informed them it was not. But, he had a master key and would take them to see the Meowth Coin anyway.

As stated before, the composite, fake Platinum Meowth Coin looked and shone exactly like the real one, and it fooled everyone. Gazing at it's glow, Stan slapped Looker's shoulder.

"You did great, Looker. Make me proud with every case. I know you will."

They left the museum and thought it was only proper to visit the family of the deceased Museum Director. They welcomed them into their home. Looker informed them that Rex, the vile fiend who murdered the Museum Director, would be locked up for life and may even face the Electrode-chair. He knew this couldn't soften the blow of losing a loved on, but he told them anyway. They needed to know. Seeing the teary-eyed wife and the sniffling children, he was reminded that his job had a darker, grimmer side.

The family thanked the men and sent them off with a basket of warm cookies. Looker, Croagunk, Stan, and Delcatty sat in the grassy field south of Pewter and nibbled on the cookies and gazed at the stars. Stan broke the silence.

"I remember my first case. I was young, like you, and I was sent out to Hoenn. This man, this real sleaze of a guy ran an illegal smuggling business. One young, bruised lady contacted us and informed us of it all. He must have got wind of this, because when we got there, in that ratty little flat, he had the girl by her hair, against his filthy body. His Magcargo was out, by them, wisps of fire dripping from it's mouth. We, me and Smith, by the way, thought he was going to turn it on us and roast us. He looked crazy and scared enough to try it. The girl was whimpering and crying, so he yanked her hair harder. He was trying to say something too, and kept backing up. We tried to calm him down, tried to have him let go of the hostage. She had light red hair."

Stan reached up and scratched at his sideburns before continuing.

"I took a bold step towards him. He barked something and the Magcargo spit a flume of fire on him and the girl. They caught fire instantly and turned orange and red and yellow. The bodies were so bright. It was so blinding. The girl was screaming. Smith's Wartorle, thank goodness, was there and doused them with water and knocked out the Magcargo. The smuggler and the hostage were dead. Blackened and all ready falling to ash. The smell was awful. We called in a clean-up crew while Smith answered all the questions. I was looking around for evidence and a small pink purse seemed to have been thrown in the corner. I opened it. A Pokeball fell out of it as well as a receipt from a Pokemon nursery. I made sure no one was looking and looked at the receipt. She had just picked up a newly hatched Skitty that very morning. It was one day old and didn't have a trainer. I know it wasn't really allowed, but I slipped the Pokeball in my pocket and tore up the receipt."

At this point he reached over and petted the Prim Pokemon's soft fur.

"I love this Delcatty, Looker. She's the only good thing that came out of that first case."

Looker wanted to say something. He wanted to comfort his suddenly serious friend. But what could he say?

"That girl haunts me, you know. I'm sure she didn't expect to end up working with a criminal. But I dunno. I just don't know."

"That's rough, Stan. Is...is that why you started wearing sunglasses? So, uh, if there's a fire you don't have to..."

"Oh, yeah. That, and the ladies dig them."

Stan was back from his ghosts, grinning again and munching on another cookie. Looker smiled softly. He thought it might be fair to share some of his old ghosts.

"I was fourteen when my father was killed."

He talked about fleeing from his homeland, sailing around the world with sailors, finding Eterna, and seeing the IP advertisement. Stan listened and nodded. As far as the IP records show, Looker was just an independent lad from Eterna, not a runaway expatriate orphan. He didn't even know Looker wasn't his actual name.

"Huh. That's amazing, pal. You've got guts. Ever think you'll return to your home one day?"

"I doubt it. Probably not. There's nothing there for me, anymore."

"So, what's your real name, between you and me?"

"Looker, of course."

The men guffawed and finished off the cookies.

----------

The next morning Looker shook hands with his friend at Goldenrod. He wished Stan could continue his IP career, but was just glad he was alive. Golbat dinged and took to the air, Flying north-east back to Sinnoh. He wondered where he'd go next. There were many places. He may try to get in touch with Johanna. He stared head on into a Tauros stampede and a Rhydon charge, so if he did see Palmer, he could handle it.

Summer was now in full swing. They'd surely still be bopping around Valor Lakefront and Sunnyshore. Looker leaned close to Golbat's ear.

"We're taking a detour from Eterna, if you don't mind."

Golbat flapped his tongue in response and veered a bit more to the east. Looker had to at least see her.

Fin. Chapter 34

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Next Chapter: Looker is back in Sinnoh and the assassin pushes on to his goal.
 
Last edited:
originally written approximately Dec. 2012

"Look"
Chapter 35, Saga 5
by RaccoonGoon​

Valor Lakefront, it's villas and pools sparkling in the summer heat. Looker returned Golbat and found his way to Hotel Grand Lake. The same receptionist was behind the counter. He asked if a Johanna was still lodging here. Upon checking the guest registry she had checked out a few days prior. Odd. Maybe she had returned home after all.

"I do think she's still staying around the area though, sir. A blond fellow helped carry her bags down."

What did Johanna say he did at the Lakefront? Was it be a pool boy. That was it. Pool boy. This place was full of pools. More pool water than lake water, maybe.

All the pools seemed clear and spotless. Not a sign of any pool boy. Curses. The sun beat down and he began to sweat. Perhaps they were over in Sunnyshore all ready. He had nothing but time. He footed over to Route 222 and into Sunnyshore.

Hopefully the blue-haired youth wouldn't show himself on this visit. He didn't feel like listening to his pathetic dirges. He tried the Beached Whiscash first, but it was closed until the evening. The beach, maybe? The beach, littered with, well, litter from a previous all-night party, was empty, save a few volunteers picking up the trash and waking up passed out rowdies, all partied out. The large smoldering pile of of scrap wood puffed out the wisps of smoke. Not the beach, either. It felt like the whole city was empty.

A shrill horn alerted him to a yacht out in the distance. It seemed to be coming to shore. One could tell it was packed with people and Pokemon, cheering and laughing. At the very front of the deck was Palmer, standing on the rails and laughing. His stupid laugh. How could he tell it was Palmer from such a distance, you may ask? The orange scarf billowing in the wind around his stupid neck. Next to him a female form. It must be Johanna. The small vessel drew closer and Looker found himself walking away. He wouldn't approach her in front of a group, let alone that stupid Palmer. He found a phone booth and acted like he was searching for somebody in the phone book. The yacht goers filed onto the sand. They all looked tired. They went their separate ways until night came again. Palmer and Johanna walked by the phone booth, holding hands. He gripped the phone book tightly.

Palmer, a tad dazed from the previous night, looked back at the phone booth. Was he mistaken or was there a brown trench coat standing in that phone booth? Nah. If there was it was gone now, the booth empty. He probably just imagined it. Johanna pulled at his arm and giggled her melting giggle. He smiled and was pulled along.

Back down at the beach, behind a wall of rock, Looker sat down on the sand and looked at the micro-pebbles. He couldn't believe it. Johanna going to him so soon. He understood she was young, but he was young, too. They were all young. But to just choose him so fast like that. It made him feel bad, and he knew it shouldn't. It made him feel blue and crumby, that she was running around with blondie. It isn't like she owed him anything, after all. His fist punched the sand. He punched it again with his other fist. He was confused. Was he sad? Yes. Did he love her, actually love her? He didn't think so, but still... He punched again. And again. Was she gone? Most likely. And again. That probability sunk in more and more with each wave of sand that stung his face. Why did he want to cry? Unknown. Punching the sand wasn't helping, but what else was the boy to do? The jostling happened to launch Croagunk's Pokeball from the coat pocket, where it fell and burst open. The Pokemon saw his sulking trainer, his strained eyes, and frowning mouth.

At the risk of sounding emotional, I'll inform you that Croagunk hugged and embraced Looker, arms wrapped tight, stopping his punching. Looker let his Pokemon and friend comfort him, then he too placed his hands upon Croagunk's blue back. Maybe it was the fact things with Johanna didn't go as planned. Maybe it was the stress of the Platinum Meowth Coin case. Maybe it was seeing a friend having to use a cane to get around, or the story he had shared with Looker. Maybe it was his own story. Maybe it was the fact he let these things sadden him at all. Whatever it was, hugging Croagunk in that hidden part of the beach, he let the tears fall and flow from his eyes. Long, silent tears. He hated crying, but this time seemed okay. He was eighteen years old and all ready had a job suited for somebody at least thirty. Should he be crying over all this? Also unknown.

I'm going to leave this scene as it is, dear reader. Know that the comrades stayed in that secret part of the beach for a while longer, just looking out to the sea and playing in the sand. Let us now go back to our ghoulish assassin.

----------

At Vermillion City he snuck aboard another supply barge and hid himself away among the crates. He had overheard that the supplies were going to Hoenn. Excellent. Once in Hoenn he could go to Hayden and demand his payment for the targets he did manage to kill. The barge churned away from Kanto's coast and headed to the tropics.

Some while later people began screaming on the deck. Down below he wondered what the problem was. He left his hiding spot and crept to an air vent to listen in.

"Sh-Sharpedos? Oh no oh no oh no! They'll tear through the hull!"
"We have to have something to throw them!"
"Where's that chef we have on board? He'll feed them for a bit!"

Sailors ran down the steps, looking for anything to throw to the vicious Sharpedos. Before something could be found a punching sound sent them back up the stairs. Another puncturing sound, then another. The assassin looked. Snub-nosed, green Water/Dark-Types were ramming into the ship's belly, ripping holes in the steel, allowing the ocean to flow in. He flew up the stairs as a Sharpedo managed to enter the ship. Up on the deck sailors were running about in a frantic panic. They were too preoccupied with the Sharpedo swarm to notice the assassin.

Men were escaping by Flying-Types and Water-Types. The ones who took to the ocean were soon chomped away in a flurry of bubbles and teeth. The assassin had survived being eaten by a Wailord. He didn't want to see if he could being food for a Sharpedo. The port bow of the ship began to sink into the water, tipping the craft, spilling the men into the feeding frenzy. The assassin was holding onto a rail, starting to dangle. A sailor holding a chain slid by and grabbed the man's leg. In the sailor's other hand was the metal chain, not too long nor short.

"Help! Help! Ahh! Help me!"

The assassin's optic flickered and he reached a hand down.

"Hand the chain up first so I can throw it to the next rail to help up get space between the water."

"Okay! Here! Hurry!"

The thick steel chain was handed to the assassin, who wrapped it around his shoulder. They were getting closes to the water, closer to the fins, closer to death.

"Okay! Throw the chain up and pull me up! I'm slipping!"

"Thanks for the chain, friend."

The fiend drove his heel into the sailor's face, off his leg, and into the open maw of a jumping Sharpedo. Free from the dead weight he began to crawl straight up. The ship was still sinking. He waited for a Sharpedo to jump at him, mouth open. When one did he whipped the chain in it's mouth, over it's jaw, and managed to grab the other end of the chain, reining in the Sharpedo. The beast tried to bite the chain links, but the chain was pulled back to far in it's mouth. The assassin jumped on top of the Pokemon and sat upon it like a steed. He dug his heels into it's course skin, causing the Pokemon to jump into the water. The ship was now lost and the assassin was speeding away, the Pokemon's snub nose slicing through the water, towards Hoenn.

I understand if you don't believe this, as it does seem rather absurd and impossible. But this was the same man who survived an Aura Sphere blast, living in a Wailord's stomach, and killed a Scyther with it's own blade. Riding on a wild Sharpedo wasn't such a big deal, was it? This tenacious killer was either very skilled or very lucky. I like to think both.

----------

Strings of lights blinked to life. Foot prints appeared in the cool sand. The large wood pile was set ablaze by some Fire-Types. Sunnyshore Beach came to life. The party grew louder and louder. Drinks were opened, Pokemon released. Somewhere, in a dark room, a blue haired lad pushed his hands over his ears, blocking out the sound of life.

Palmer and Johanna, along with the other two blockheads, walked from the Beached Whiscash to the beach and fit right into the mess. Palmer had arrived. Now the party was really starting.

Looker and Croagunk saw all this from atop the smooth rock wall. A quiet day at the beach had cleared his mind and refilled his confidence. He glared down at stupid Palmer and his stupid grin and his stupid scarf and his stupid arm around Johanna's waist. The plan snapped together in his mind like a grand puzzle. He knew it was immature and stupid, that he was above all this, and yet...

Golbat, Nidorino, and Geodude, for good measure, were released and told to be ready if anything were to happen. He whispered something to Golbat who winked and chimed in delight before fluttering down to the beach in the middle of the party. The Pokemon wrapped his massive purple wings around his body, his mean eyes and ears peeking out. Golbat walked his funny walk through the crowd, who were wondering who had brought the winged Ratatta. He made his way to the couple. Palmer chuckled at the comic sight.

"Hey pal, sorry. I'm fresh out of Poffins and Berries. Or was it people that you ate?"

Johanna and the others cracked up at this stupid joke, even Golbat bounced up and down, acting like he was chuckling. Then the wings unfurled and flapped out a flashing multicolored ball of light. It danced around in the air, orbited around Palmer's stupid blond head, before sizzling out and numbing his brain. A Confuse Ray, perfectly aimed. Palmer's eye's dilated, his mouth fell open, and he began to twitch.

"Where am I? Why am I on a beach? Who am I? Am I a beach?"

"Palmer, calm down. You're just Confused."

"I don't know you. The sand is screaming at me. Tell it to stop...Help! I've been seized!"

The people gave the raving man space, some growing actually concerned for the Confused fellow. Johanna kept trying to calm him down and snap him out of it, but he kept swaying and ranting. Soon the whispers turned to giggling, then full on laughing.

"I don't remember who I am. Are we really at a beach? Why is this Golbat here, and why is it chuckling at me?"

Palmer took wobbly steps towards Golbat and kicked his shoes off. He thought his toes were screaming for air. Atop the stone wall Looker was laughing at the scene, trying not to hoot too loudly. Palmer kept grabbing at Golbat, who avoided his grasp easily. The wee Nidorino, seeing his Pokemon brethren being grabbed at, rushed down the stones. You see, this little critter was brave, and wouldn't stand for such a display. It was rushing forward, the small poison horn upon his forehead pointed at the blond man.

Palmer, only seeing a land of neon people and lime green bubbles, failed to spot the small Poison-Type dart in front of him. As such, he was close to stepping on the Pokemon, who froze in terror, arched his back to raise up the rough barbs of poison. Palmer's bare foot stepped on this, the barbs sinking into the soft flesh. The sudden injection of toxin snapped him out of Confusion and replaced it with pained cries. He fell onto the sand and began to yell and curse and rave. His foot began to swell up and broke out in purple blotches and he began to feel queasy. The beach goers were just going nuts, some laughing, some trying to help, and some trying to snatch up the Nidorino who had felled the young tycoon.

All the courage fled Nidorino as a whole crowd was nope upon him. Golbat swooped in and grabbed the smaller Pokemon with his feet and flew from the scene. With the Pokemon out of sight they turned back to Palmer, now showing more signs of poison. Johanna was kneeling by him smoothing his hair as he winced in pain. A few from the crowd went to go get medical help. Everyone tried to act concerned and serious, but the whole scene that had played out was just too silly, and many chuckles were suppressed the rest of the night.

Palmer and his foot were treated as the Sunnyshore Pokecenter first, then took a Flight to the actual hospital at Jubilife City. Johanna stayed behind and was left alone. Her friends telling her it was okay didn't help. Palmer's and Johanna's night was ruined. Soon the party went back to normal, many still wondering who the two Pokemon belonged to. Pokeballs were searched and bag were checked. Nobody owned a Golbat nor a Nidorino, the latter not even being native to Sinnoh. But it was over now. It didn't matter. The party was still alive.

Looker and his Pokemon looked at the scene, still laughing heartily. He praised Golbat and even carefully patted Nidorino's head. Who'd guess the little guy would come in handy? The poisoning wasn't planned, of course, and he did feel a certain amount of guilt. He just wanted to Confuse the guy in front of his peers, not poison him. A note on Palmer being poisoned. The poison in Nidorino is hardly potent enough to be lethal, and only turns deadly upon evolution. Palmer, while having a stung foot and stiff pains, would be fine in a handful of hours. For a few minutes Looker wanted to go down to the sand and talk to Johanna, to comfort her, but he didn't. It wouldn't be right. He's the one that caused it. Was he feeling guilty now, seeing her alone? Yes. He deduced she wasn't even thinking of him right now. Unfortunately though, she was. She was thinking very hard.

"Think you can get us back home, Golbat?"

Golbat got them back home to Eterna, where he went right to bed.

----------

The man used the mental map that was his brain to guide his Sharpedo steed to the northern coast of Hoenn. He yanked the steel reins and put space between himself and the island Region. In a few minutes he spotted a small scrap of land. Hayden's private estate. Odd, he'd think he'd see a house standing by now. He ran the Sharpedo right up onto the strip of sand, digging it's nose into the earth. It wriggled and tried to free itself while the man stepped off and looked at the shambled remains of the destroyed mansion.

They must have arrested him and took him in. He was gone. There wouldn't be payment for the men he killed. It was all for not. And the IP, that army of cutthroat mavericks, must have destroyed his mansion, was his reasoning, as if throwing him in jail wasn't enough. The assassin couldn't believe it. For a long while he was still, looking at the broken house. He still had one last thing to do. His Banette. His darling. Still at IP HQ. If he wasn't going to have his riches he'd at least have his Pokemon back. With a fire burning in his pale chest he hopped back on the Sharpedo, pulled the chain, bounced in the water, and steered towards IP HQ, full speed. What was this sensation he was feeling? Courage? Determination? Love? The fire in his chest flared. He and his darling would soon be together. The fire fueled him with it's flames. That, or his chest wound was infected. I like to think both.

----------

Celia knocked on Looker's door the next morning. He had just finished reading the morning newspaper as he opened the door. The old woman looked a bit sad as she handed him a letter.

"Johanna was just here and asked me to give you this, Looker dear. I don't know why she didn't give it to you herself and say hello. She said she had to hurry to Jubilife. Oh, are you done with the paper?"

He handed her the newspaper, thanked her, and sat down to open the letter. His stomach felt off as he read it.

Looker- I know that little stunt on the beach was you. That Golbat was missing a tooth and made chiming noises. You've showed me that nasty Golbat tooth you held on to for whatever reason and told me the story of how that Golbat swallowed a bike bell. I don't know why you'd even want to catch the thing after all that.

I didn't appreciate what you did to Palmer. He had gotten over what had happened before and you go and poison him out of pettiness. I thought you were more mature than that. I know I got involved with Palmer too fast, I'm sure it hurt you very much and I'm sorry, I should have handled it differently, too, but that's no excuse to assault someone using your Pokemon, Looker. I'm not even sure how you found out we had become a couple. Were you stalking us? Using your job to follow us? The only sympathy I feel on your end is for that little Nidorino that Palmer stepped on by accident, even though it wasn't really harmed. I almost want to know where you even found it.

Goodbye, Looker.

P.S.- Next time just try to talk to people you have issues with like an adult. Remember, you threw the first punch that day in the hotel, not Palmer. Not that you care, but he's fine now.

The letter was read twice. He felt even more awful and guilty. He had really ruined things with her. He shouldn't of pulled the prank at all. Johanna and him just wasn't meant to work.

Panes of light were flooding the sofa, the coffee table, and the letter sitting on it. He reflected on the past few days. He had flown all over, brawled in a restaurant, visited a friend, went on a big Poke safari, wept on the beach, and pulled a buffoonish prank fueled by jealousy, and made a girl hate him. In all his life, when he would gaze off into space or looking at where his life might go, he never imagined he'd do some of the events he had been part of recently. Some good. Some not so good. Was it just part of growing up? Possibly. What would his father think? How do you make a dead person proud?

Looker pondered these questions and chose to ponder them some more down at the Dragon Statue.

Fin. Chapter 35

----------

Next Chapter: Back to HQ for Looker, and the conclusion to the assassin's quest.
 
Last edited:
originally written approximately late Dec. 2012

"Look"
Chapter 36, Saga 5
by RaccoonGoon​


A small blue rowboat with IP decals was bobbing on the water, HQ Island behind it. A rather dopey looking Officer, enjoying some leave time, plucked a small squirmy Caterpie from a bucket and examined it. The Bug-Type let out a small pitiful squeal when the fisherman held up a pointed hook, preparing to make it bait.

"Sorry little guy, but you may be the one who lands me the elusive Pikablu! Ever since I was a Trainee I've heard of this rare Pokemon, and realized it wouldn't hide in the forest or any Route. It'd live under the ocean, right around HQ, where I first heard of it from that Officer Stan guy. Now stop wriggling and let me impale you!"

A rushing object stopped the hook from stabbing the Caterpie, as the fisherman noticed the jet of water approaching at a frightful speed. Closer it came, and the Officer saw a man in a strange black outfit riding atop the rather disgruntled looking Sharpedo. The rushing Pokemon plowed straight through the boat, splitting it in half, spilling the Officer and his supplies into the water. The Caterpie, upon impact, flew from the man's fingers and landed on a splintered plank of wood. The makeshift raft held the Caterpie afloat and drifted all the way back to Kanto, where the Caterpie lived a happy long life, eventually evolving into a Metapod, where annoying young trainers was it's favorite activity. But back to the current story.

The assassin spotted the Main Office Building from the water and whipped the chain that was controlling the Sharpedo, making it go even faster. Close enough to dock he made his steed jump onto it, absolutely roughing up the wooden planks as the Pokemon crash landed. A few Officers and Deputies rushed to the disturbance. The assassin bolted up and fled the scene, leaving the exhausted Pokemon behind to flop about on the dock, the steel chain still dangling between it's teeth.

He couldn't stop, not now. He ignored the peering eyes as he burst into the Main Office Building. He grabbed a man and wrapped his bony fingers around his neck. Every IP member present drew their Pokeballs and demanded the assassin to let go and halt.

"What level is Pokemon Processing on, you weakling?"

His voice, still eerie and empty, had a new spark to it. His yellow optic flickered at a greater pace. He would be reunited with his darling. He'd have to be.

"L-level five!"

Seeing all the Pokemon trained on him he put his hostage in a head-lock and dragged him with him, using him as a human shield.

"Nobody and no Pokemon move or his neck snaps."

They were in the elevator, going up now. The whole island had by now been alerted to the invasion. The loud alarm siren bellowed over the whole island. Everyone was ready to put a stop to the assassin. Level five opened up and a squad of IP Officers were grouped behind a forward leaning Victrebel, forming some attack in it's huge maw. The scene looked like a bunch of blue suits firing off an antique cannon. The attack was a Seed Bomb, and a rather large one. The explosive seed barreled at the assassin, who side stepped it. The seed smashed into the elevator, exploded, and sent it crashing all the way back down the elevator shaft.

The Victrebel shot out vines to grab the fiend, but the hostage was thrown in the way and tangled in the strong green ropes. Somebody sent a Hitmonlee to stop the assassin. A Cross-Chop attack was aimed and the Pokemon with springs for legs flew at the intruder, who ducked the attack. The Hitmonlee crashed into the poor sap who had just gotten loose from the vines, and the two figures crumpled on one another.

The assassin lunged and grabbed another IP Officer by the neck.

"Where's my Banette? Give her back to me. Now."

His grip tightened and the Officer shrieked.

"Where's my darling? Tell me!"

"We-we-we let her live in the woods! She doesn't bother anyone there!"

The assassin rammed his knee into the man's gut as the Victrebel was rushing at him, mouth agape, ready to trap the intruder using it's own hollow body. The assassin spun and avoided the charge much like a matador would and wrapped his arm around the Pokemon's yellow body.

"Get back, all of you!"

He grabbed the brown barbed vine and yanked back on it, sending out another Seed Bomb, sending the droves of IP members and their Pokemon backwards with a mighty blast. He then pointed the Grass/Poison-Type cannon to the floor and squeezed it's middle. Large drops of purple acid spilled out and burned holes in the floor. The acid kept corroding through each floor, and Officers below had to avoid the dripping ooze.

By now Flying-Types and their trainers were surrounding every window of the Main Office Building, keeping an eye on the assassin. He threw the frazzled Victrebel aside and hopped through the hole on the floor, then the next hole on the next floor, then the next, etc. He was on the first floor again, but not for long. He dashed out while avoiding the tackling Officers and Pokemon attacks.

He spotted the small wooded copse next to the barracks. He churned his sickly thin legs. Half the island must be chasing him, but he couldn't stop now. He rushed headlong into the trees. The army of IP Officers halted and the tree line, halted by Director Cullen.

"There's no telling what he'll do if we follow him into the dense trees. We'll wait for him here."

He was back, Cullen thought. So he hadn't died from Lucario's attack or the fall. Tough man to kill. If only Cullen knew the whole story of the assassin's return. The mass of blue suits stood firm, fanning out a bit, watching the woods. Inside the copse the assassin's yellow optic flickered madly. Barely audible he was calling to his Banette.

"Darling, darling. I'm here. I'm here to take you home. Darling."

He stepped into a small clearing. There, among a flock of Murkrow, was Banette, playing with the dark feathered Pokemon. She seemed happy and at peace here. She was chuckling, but not the creepy, nasty chuckle she once had. It was a happy chuckle. The assassin couldn't believe she was the same Banette. The group of Pokemon looked at the man. The Murkrows noticed the reflective eye the man had and began to flutter in front of his face and peck at it.

"Go away, you winged beasts! I must save my darling from your vile talons!"

He tried to wave them away, which only attracted more of them. Banette looked at the man being pestered. She remembered him, yes. The man she ran around with who let her break people and Pokemon. But now she had a whole flock of friends and a whole lot of woods to run around in. And just by the copse, building after building of people she could spook. She loved it here.

"Darling! It's me! Get these cursed fiends away from me!"

Banette began charging a Shadow Ball and floated a few feet in the air. More and more Murkrow were trying to get at the yellow lens, obscuring the assassin's vision.

"Yes, good! Blast them away! Hurt them!"

The Shadow Ball hit between the assassin's feet, sending him stepping back, shocked.

"No, these feathered beasts, not me! What are your thinking, my darling?"

Banette didn't hear him. She was floating towards the man, charging another attack. Now droves of Murkrow were upon him, trying their hardest to pluck his yellow optic out. He had no choice but to cover his head and flee, being chased by Murkrow and his own Banette.

Outside the copse the people formed a human fence, assuring the intruder couldn't escape when he exited. He ran out of the copse, free from the attacking Pokemon. He saw the wall of blue suits and Pokemon, ready to stop him. Now fueled by deep sorrow he deftly dodged attacks and punched away bodies, and kept running. He couldn't deal with these people right now.

Before the Officers could give chase hundred of Murkrow burst from the copse, attracted to the silver buttons on the uniforms. Soon it was Murkrow versus the IP, distracting them from the real problem. They had to fight back the clawing Flying/Dark-Types. One blue suit chased after the assassin, however. Director Cullen.

The assassin looked back to see the familiar man and Lucario giving chase. Where to run? He was once again on a ledge over the large rocks and crashing waves. He halted and turned.

"So, you're still around, mercenary. The man you were hired to kill is gone now. You're too late."

The assassin cupped his faceless head in his right hand, the yellow optic peering between his fingers.

"You're right, lawman. My darling is gone.".

"Turn yourself in and we can help you. Your target means nothing to you anymore. Tell us what you know and we can help. There's...there's no need for you to keep up your work."

"I didn't come back here for the man I had to kill, you oaf! I...no, you wouldn't understand. Not fully..."

Cullen gestured at Lucario, who took a combative stance. They had all been here before.

"You have five seconds to put your hands above your head and surrender peacefully. One."

The assassin felt dejection. Banette, his only Pokemon, his only friend, had turned her back on him.

"Two."

While falling into the deep sea, while shivering inside a Wailord, while hiking through Fiore, while hiding in crates, while riding across the ocean on a Sharpedo, he had kept his darling Banette burning in his mind.

"Three."

He had probably traveled around half the globe in his little quest. HQ, to Fiore, to Kanto, to Hoenn, back to HQ. So many miles for one man. Lucario began to snarl and raise it's paws.

"Four."

His optic flickered. He was a child again, playing with a doll in the basement. It was his sister's doll. That's why he was hiding out in the basement. The doll had such soft hair. The mother boomed down the steps and tried to take the doll away. He pleaded with her. No, no! The doll's hair was so soft. Her painted smile was so nice to look at. Nobody ever smiled like that. The mother grabbed the head and pulled, he held onto her delicate leg. The doll's neck ripped and the head popped off. Soft hair fell out. He was heartbroken. The mother, angered, slapped the boy's head. The sister rushed down and screamed. She didn't want the doll anymore. Under his mask, behind his optic, tears were welling under his eyes. The awful memories were coming back. It was broken and useless.

"Please don't make me say five..."

The doll was thrown out in the trash. He cried and cried. That night the fire in the fireplace got too large and the house caught fire. Screaming, yelling. He managed to get out. The mother and sister did not. He cried even more, now homeless. He blindly tried to run from the blazing house. He ran into the trashcan, knocking it over and spilling it's contents on the ground. The beheaded doll and it's head seemed different. They were dark and deformed. He picked the pieces up and they began to shift and morph and change. A black mist wafted from the form. The boy had witnessed a natural phenomenon, the spontaneous birth of a Pokemon. As the doll morphed a few small specks of light energy floated out. One of these specks gently pressed into the boy's chest. Banette, then just a little Shuppet, was there, her eyes glowing and mouth smiling. He had a Pokemon. He dreamed of having a Pokemon. Now, on the ledge over the ocean, he didn't have his friend, his darling. He was alone. His optic flickered again.

The assassin raised his hands to the air. Cullen was relieved. Lucario stopped growling. The man reached for a pair of handcuffs. The assassin, under his yellow optic, closed his true eyes and and fell back over the ledge.

"No!"

The man fell straight into the brink and was covered by the ocean. His body rung from the fall. His vision blurred. A strong underwater surge grabbed him and pulled him deeper out. Now, in the deep of the ocean, his vision cleared. A massive shadow was getting closer and closer. He knew what it was. He had been here before. A hungry Wailord thinking that anything was food. He didn't try to surface or swim away. He let the beast come. The glass optic flickered once and was swallowed by the enormous shadow.

On land Cullen cursed to himself and walked back from the slope. A large number of IP Officers and their tired Pokemon approached, covered in black feathers. They wanted to know if the intruder was caught this time. Cullen heavily shook his head and the mass of blue suits slumped back to the Main Office Building. Something told the IP Director the assassin wouldn't be back. The siren stopped blaring.

Back in the copse Banette was examining a twig with a dead leaf dangling at the end, mesmerized.

----------

Looker spent the rest of his free time milling around. He and Croagunk took a trip to Pastoria's Great Marsh. Croagunk, back at his old stomping grounds, tried to walk along the edge of the trolley tracks without falling.

One day was dedicated to spending time in the bustling city of Jubilife. Looking into shops, watching street performers. He usually ate at Larson's. Evenings were spent reading newspapers or having tea with Celia. Rad Rickshaw rented a bike out, so he spent some time cycling to Eterna Forest. One day Croagunk pulled him towards the Old Chateau, urging him to go inside and explore it. So they did. They found some Ghastlys and such. In one room a television wouldn't turn off, even when unplugged. This, of course, is when the duo decided to calmly and quietly leave the house without panicking or screaming in absolute terror, I promise.

Near the end of his free time he packed some extra bags and boxes of his things. He had decided to live at HQ. Celia teared up when he told her.

"Oh, Looker dear. You were the best neighbor I could have asked for. You're a sweet young man, never change that."

This was more emotional than he had expected it to be. He hugged the woman and said in a shaking voice

"Thanks again for the clothes you gave me."

The Abra Man Teleported. Looker informed him to only take the bags and boxes, tell Director Cullen he needed an apartment, and to tell Roger he'd Fly back to HQ on his own. Golbat could make the trip, he was sure. The Abra Man jotted it all down, sat on the stack of boxes and tapped Abra's tail. He, and all of Looker's stuff, was at HQ in zero point two seconds.

Down in the lobby he returned his key to the receptionist. Her lipstick'd mouth frowned.

"Mister Lookar, are you saying that you're moving? Where to?"

He was saying that, yes, but she didn't understand.

"The globe needs me to repel the evil forces of crime. I'm grateful for the roof you provided over my head, yes."

"Oh, you brave man! I just can't believe you're leaving! It won't be the same with you gone!"

The Superintendent, still wearing the faded red coat, shook the IP Agent's hand and blustered out a

"Thank you for choosing to stay at Eterna Condominiums, my friend!"

He looked back at the lobby. For years ago the injured, tired lad rented a room here. He had trudged from Snowpoint, through Mt.Coronet, and ended up in little Eterna City. It was bittersweet, really. He waved goodbye to the lady with too much lipstick and the man in the faded red coat, walked out the door, released Golbat, and flew off.

"That strange Lookar. What a dumb-dumb he could be sometimes. I'll miss him, though! He made me sound like a genius, don't you think, sir?"

"Huh? Whuzzat? You think I'm a looker? Why thank you, but please. This is a workplace, madam!"

----------

He was in luck. An apartment was open, and he was promptly moved in after a few papers were signed. Some Officers and Agents threw him a welcoming party and it was grand. Even Cullen attended. The IP Director felt it was for the best not to tell him about the ghoul's brief return.

Once moved in he gave Roxanne the Pokeball containing the Geodude he had caught. This made her very happy. She loved Rock-Types. She gave him a smooch on the cheek and reminded him she was very close if he needed her.

The office was furnished. Chairs moved in, a coat rack, a small fridge stocked with soda. In the storage closet he stored his father's briefcase neatly, and on a small display case he set Golbat's removed tooth, a good conversation piece.

Finally, after four years of adventures, Looker was home.

Fin. Chapter 36

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Next Chapter: Three Bounty Hunters.
 
Last edited:
originally written approximately late Dec. 2012 - early Jan. 2013


"Look"
Chapter 37, Saga 6
by RaccoonGoon​


Trainees were young, scared, and basically interns. Deputies were paper pushers and coffee fetchers. Guards were just meant to stand around and watch. Officers were the main work force bound to the blue uniform. Agents were the slick operators who could do just about anything to close the case. Lieutenant Welker was grouchy and seemed over-worked. Director Cullen was the mighty leader of the International Police. These were the basic ranks.

There are also the IP personnel. The Cooks, for example. There are also the Transports, like mechanics who operate the ships and boats or people like Roger who use their Pokemon to get around. The Abra Man is also part of the Transport rank, but he's a special case.

Agents, pretty much the highest normal rank available, are equipped to do detective work, but Detectives aren't meant to engage the target as an Agent would. Detectives, very few in numbers, always operate behind the scenes and never get much lime light, and they prefer it that way. Then, hidden deeper than the Detectives, are the Bounty Hunters.

If you asked ten IP members if the force had Bounty Hunters, only around two would say yes. These fellows, only three of them left at this time, aren't needed anymore with the sheer number of other IP members. Bounty hunting was an old profession and art. The rank was established by the Director that came before Cullen, who said the best approach is an unexpected approach. Cullen came in, saw that having such reckless members was dangerous and pointless, but just didn't have the heart to do away with them. They hardly brought in enough bounties to cover the cost of having them operate. These men could do what they did outside to IP, as freelance bounty hunters. But, as of this time in the story, there were three IP licensed Bounty Hunters.

The first, Ernest, and his Luxray. He was very fierce and brash. He liked to drink and liked to be tough. He loved the outdoors and traveling. He had survived a nasty indecent at Mt.Silver, a brush fire started by a Torkoal, and when he was a volunteer during the War, he even survived an enemy Voltorb falling on his position. He worked in Sinnoh as a journalist and enjoyed taking Poke safaris, deep sea Fishing, and Tauros fights. Nobody really knew how he got into the bounty hunting business, but he did, and was very good at it. He knew the quicker the target was brought it, the quicker he was paid. He was an older man, with white hair and beard, white as the peak of Mt.Snow.

The second was Aldous, the youngest of them. He was the son of some old prominent doctor. As a lad he was quiet and studious. He wore thick glasses, oiled his hair back, and wore tidy clothing. He had a Magnazone he'd float around on, stuttering out eccentric, odd phrases such as "Releasing is better than Healing." and "A thousand sets of Double Teams performing two thousand Attacks." He hailed the inventor of the Pokeball almost as a holy figure. To top off this odd character, he also had to take a small pink pill every day to take, what he called, a vacation.

Thirdly, we have Fyodor. Oh, Fyodor. He was the most buffoonish of the trio in every way possible. He drank, swore, flew into blind rages, and had a crippling gambling addiction. He drank tea by the gallon. He was prone to epileptic fits since he was a child. His eyes were sad looking and his beard was long and scruffy. He was the oldest of the trio, and was showing signs of balding. Ernest would always have his suspicions on why his own hair turned white while Fyodor's never faded. His theological ideas were discussed heavily, mostly after his death. He claimed that if Arceus wasn't real, all things in Pokemon are permitted. He became a devout believer after spending years in the now nonexistent Snowpoint Gulag for jay-walking. The original sentence was death, but changed to the gulags at the last second. On missions he wore a shabby greatcoat. His Pokemon broke the pattern set by the other two hunters, as his was a Ground/Dark-Type hailing from the Unova Region, a place on the other side of the globe. A Krookodile, who enjoyed buffooning about with his trainer. The two seemed to have the exact same guffaw.

As you can see, this set wasn't the most refined group of men and were considered mavericks by most of the IP. They lodged in a small bunkhouse behind the Resident Housing and Mess Hall.

Looker, expecting another fast paced action filled mission for his second case, opened the door for Lt. Welker, his mean eyes squinting behind his square glasses. A tan folder was in his hand. The Lieutenant didn't say a word, threw the folder on the desk, and walked right back out. He second case was about to begin.

The file sheet detailed how one Bounty Hunter was suspected of having staged bounties. They have a bounty placed and have the bounty head willingly be brought in for a cut of the reward money, which would then be sent to the bounty head in prison, working towards the bail. They had no solid proof, but when they had some they could finally do away with the Bounty Hunter rank. The folder included short biographies, characteristics, and photos of the Bounty Hunters and their Pokemon.

Looker's job was to secretly follow each of these men on three separate bounties and report anything that seemed suspicious. He stroked his chin with his thumb and forefinger and thought this seemed like a case for a Detective, but supposed he could handle it. He was picked for a reason, surely. It seemed simple enough. No stolen treasure, no criminal gang, and hopefully no assassins or murder.

The case would be opened that very day. Aldous had a bounty he would be after soon in Viridian City. He's have to find the Abra Man while Aldous found an outgoing Transport going towards Kanto.

Down by the port Officers and Agents were going to and from destinations. No sign of the Abra Man. Looker did what he did best and kept looking until...until...there he was! Him and his Abra clinging to his back. He began to walk towards him, but someone else hurried up to him, told him some location, and he was gone again. When he Teleported back another person rushed to him, and he vanished once again.

Third time was the cha- No, an Officer and a Deputy surrounded the Transport and they too were gone. Why didn't the IP invest in more than one Abra Man? A little bit down the dock, at another port, was Aldous, who approached a woman in goggles and her large Pidgeot. The lady pulled a small log book from her pocket and jotted something down. Looker had to move fast.

He walked and stood directly behind where the Abra Man was vanishing and re-appearing and waited. Seconds later the man's back and Abra appeared. Looker reached out and took hold of the Pokemon's tail and said

"Viridian City, Kanto. Go go go."

Instantly they were in Viridian City. Looker let go of the Abra's tail and stepped back, trying to get his bearings.

"Thanks."

The Abra Man Teleported back. He was in front of the Pokecenter, so he went in, found a newspaper, sat, and waited. He was very early. Three or four hours, and numerous newspapers later, a mighty flapping sounded from outside. From the window he could see Aldous handing the lady a pair of goggles back and hopping off the Pidgeot. The Bounty Hunter had arrived.

The gentleman stepped into the Pokecenter, peered around with his thick spectacles, and walked to a brochure stand and started to look over the pamphlets. Looker held the newspaper higher and gazed over it, fixed on Aldous.

The door to the Pokecenter opened and a man with a thin pencil mustache, wearing a bowler hat and carrying a black coat, walked in. He was an older gentleman and took slow, steady steps. Within a few steps, between Looker on the couch and Aldous standing, facing away, he froze up and saw the Bounty Hunter. Aldous turned, saw the still man, and put the brochure back. This is when the man dropped his coat and bolted out the door, going so fast his bowler hat fell from his head. Aldous pursued the man outside, stomping on the fallen hat on the way out. Looker stood, tossed the paper aside, and ran out, he too stepping on the bowler.

The two figures ahead of him were running full speed through Viridian. Aldous chucked a Pokeball clear ahead of the puffing gentleman, causing Magnezone to appear in front of him.

"Magnezone, Discharge."

The UFO looking creature let out a robotic, alien sound and produced a wave of electric bolts at the man, which hit him dead on. The man was zapped and sent to the ground, twitching and smoking, seemingly stopped.

Aldous and Magnezone approached the man while Looker kept out of sight by hiding behind a nearby trashcan. They drew in onlookers and the street was getting crowded. Before Aldous could slap handcuffs on the fellow a bright flash emitted from under him and he was suddenly floating into the sky atop a Drifblim.

"Haha! Not today, you fool!"

The fleeing fellow was gaining altitude and letting the wind carry him away.

"Use Lock On, Magnezone."

The Electric.Steel-Type's red eye pinged onto the Drifblim and began to electronically trace it, it's eye never losing focus.

"Now, Zap Cannon."

Magnezone began to crackle with yellow sparks, charging a swirling ball of electricity between it's two magnets, growing larger and larger. The fleeing form of the man and his Drifblim was becoming a small dot in the distance. Looker seriously doubted the attack would hit. The Drifblim was getting so far away. Aldous, standing behind his Pokemon, didn't seem too concerned.

The Zap Cannon was fired, the attack boomed through the sky, and directly hit the bounty head, electrocuting him and the Drifblim and sending them down. The Flying/Ghost-Type, down for the count, released it's stored air and began to dart around like an un-knotted balloon, sinking lower and lower at a steady pace before touching down, it and it's trainer immobilized. Aldous, quite pleased with the well executed attack, jumped onto Magnezone and the two floated towards the felled figures. The gathered people clapped a little the dispersed to go about their day. Looker kept his distance, but followed the Bounty Hunter.

The man with the pencil mustache and the Drifblim were still crackling with electricity when Aldous stepped up. He found the Drifblim's Pokeball in the man's trousers and returned it before handcuffing the man. He then returned his own Pokemon and pulled out the IP issued radio, reporting he needed returned to HQ. He looked down at the bounty head.

"Mustapha, you're being apprehended for embezzlement of funds. You're being taken to the International Police."

The man only winced in pain and kept twitching, his mustache frayed now. Looker saw all this from behind a tree. He didn't understand bounty hunting. Any Officer or Agent could bring in someone petty like that. What was this man getting a large lump sum reward for it while people in blue suits did it all the time as their routine duty? Maybe that's why so many people back at HQ wanted the Bounty Hunters gone. They were the International Police, not some bounty hunting guild.

The same woman and the same Pidgeot swooped down and Aldous and his bounty head were on the way back. Looker jotted down the whole event in his notepad and released Golbat for the flight back.

----------

After reporting the Viridian City chase to Cullen he was done for the day. Tomorrow he'd do the same thing, only with Ernest, who was going to Sootopolis City, and island city in Hoenn's eastern ocean.

That night, in his new on-island apartment, he went over the Bounty Hunter's profile again. The photograph of Ernest used in the file was old and dated. He was a young man with dark hair in the photo. He seemed to be standing in front of an old portable Healing Machine they used during the War.

He phoned to Smith's apartment and invited him to the Water Spout. He'd know more about these men, surely. Once seated with their drinks, Smith began to tell Looker what he knew.

"There use to be a lot more IP Bounty Hunters."

"And now, only three are around. Tell me about them."

"I know that Ernest is a man's man. He deep sea fishes with nothing but a fishing line. He caught a record breaking Seaking once, said he struggled with it for days on end. Aldous doesn't seem like he'd be a Bounty Hunter, but he's good at it, he's smart. As for Fyodor. Oh, Fyodor. We looked into his jay-walking case and his time spent in the Snowpoint Gulags. He claims it's because of that he believes in Arceus-type love, and yet... And his Krookodile, I don't know where he got one on this side of the globe, but the two are almost like one being sometimes."

"Out of the three, who do you think would be part of underhanded deals?"

"Fyodor, I'd think. Ernest might, but he seems too...I dunno..."

"Earnest?"

"Earnest, yeah. Too earnest."

The men finished off their drinks.

"Thanks for the information, Smith."

"Anytime. Have fun in Sootopolis tomorrow."

----------

Sootopolis was located in a huge, walled, rock canyon jutting out from the ocean. The city's exotic location made it full or tourists and expatriates. A bounty head that was the target of Ernest and his Luxray was somewhere within it's streets.

This time, Looker was leaning on a rail overlooking a natural pool of sea water in front of the Pokecenter, holding up a map of Hoenn as cover. Up on a slope Roger and his Salamance landed and deposited the IP Bounty Hunter. The older gentleman thanked the Transport and made his way down to the city, releasing his Luxray along the way.

Ernest entered the Pokecenter and Looker followed. By the counter he demanded that Luxray sit and wait, which the Electric-Type did. The bearded man looked around then quickly jumped over the counter. This was something. What could he want in the back rooms of the building? The Agent was prepared to follow him, except Luxray, looking less than happy, was keeping a leery eye on him.

Croagunk was released and began to poke and prod at the Luxray, jabbing at it and trying to grab it's tail. Soon the Electric-Type could take no more and gave chase to the smaller Pokemon around the lounge area. Looker hopped the counter and sneaked into the back room.

In a small supply closet he heard them. Ernest and a woman. Within the small room the man's strong and steady arms held Nurse Joy's waist, who was resting her pink head on his chest. The two were whispering as they embraced.

"When can we be together? When can we go to Unova and get married?"

"Soon, my love. We will go away soon."

"You haven't had any other girls, have you?"

"No. I only dream of you."

"When can we leave? Really, when can we?"

"Soon. I almost have enough saved up for both of us. Isn't it nice?"

"Yes. Do you love me?"

"Yes."

The sound of smooching sounded. Looker, feeling a tad awkward, didn't know what to think. Having a secret love affair wasn't a crime, he supposed, and no way would a Nurse Joy be involved in anything illegal. Just scandalous, apparently.

The closet door was opening and the IP Agent left the back area and hopped back over the counter. Croagunk was hanging onto the ceiling light as the Luxray was swiping at him. The red beam found the dangling Pokemon and zipped him into the Pokeball and they were outside, back by the rail, looking away, trying to act natural.

"Luxray! I told you to sit!"

Now Ernest and his Pokemon left the building and walked by the Agent, not even noticing him. A man wearing a bright red colored shirt turned the corner, right into the Bounty Hunter.

"'Ey! Watch where you st- Oh, no."

The man in the bright shirt turned and started to run. Ernest, not even looking interested, clicked at his Pokemon, who sprang into action and chased the target. The man ran fast, but Luxray was faster. A set of electrically charged fangs sank into the man's calf muscle, sending jolts of lightning through his body and stunning him, sending him to the ground. The Thunder Fang had done it's job.

Ernest walked up and handcuffed the man, whistling leisurely.

"You know you can't sell boot-legged wine, Rinaldi."

Rinaldi could barely speak after the shocking attack.

"I-I know..."

Ernest hoisted him up and told his radio he was ready.

"Come on, now. Show some grace. You're coming with me."

Roger and Salamance landed and took off. Ernest's job was done. Looker witnessed all this where he stood, as the chase only lasted a few seconds or so. He furrowed his brow and jotted down some notes. That only left Fyodor and his Krookodile.

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"It seems Ernest is clean, sir."

Once again in Cullen's office, Looker reported his finds.

"Hm. It seems so."

The IP Director gazed down at the file on his desk.

"You watch Fyodor tomorrow. That'll teach you some things, I suppose."

"What do you mean?"

"Fyodor is...quite the fellow."

The men said goodbye and Looker chose to study his notes at the Water Spout. He chose a back booth and settled in, folding his coat next to him.

Things went normally until the door slammed and husky laughing was heard. There stood Fyodor. He took yard-long steps to the bar and demanded a drop of vodka by slamming his fist down. The drink was handed to him in a hasty manner. It was clear the bar-goers hated when he showed up.

"Thank you, comrade. A drop of vodka and I'll be gone, promise."

A drop turned into multiple drops. Fyodor was rambling about something nobody cared about. He fumbled through the pockets of his greatcoat, which was probably older than Looker's own trench coat. He seemed to be looking for his wallet or IP fund card.

"Oh tfoo! Seems I forgot my wallet!"

He belched, cursed, and flung the empty glass across the room, shattering it against the wall. This caused everyone to stop what they were doing and stare at the drunk man.

"What are you blockheads looking at? Can't a man have a drop to drink before a bounty?"

Some Officers urged the man away from the bar, telling him he should go home and rest. Fyodor brushed them off angrily, saying he would "brain them all." They backed off.

The bearded man stumbled a few steps, looking for an empty booth. Upon passing the one Looker was sitting at he stopped and cast his dark eyes downward.

"Can I, erm, help you, sir?"

Looker quickly rested his arms on the table to hide the notes.

Fyodor held up a hand and felt the folded up coat.

"What an excellent coat, lad. Where did you get it this side of the globe?"

"It belonged to my father, and was was passed down to me."

"Ah. Hm. Hm! This is good fabric, my boy."

"Mhm. Thank you."

"Good day, comrade."

Fyodor stumbled away, knocked over a few chairs, and left the bar. Everyone let out a collective sigh of relief and went back to what they were doing, glad the buffoon had left.

Looker sipped his soda and kept reading over his notes. He was going to Jubilife City tomorrow. Hopefully Fyodor was too inebriated to notice what he looked like on the off chance he was spotted tomorrow. Who knows how he'd react to being followed.

Looker didn't want to follow the bounty hunter into a large city. He just didn't.

Fin. Chapter 37

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Next Chapter: Looker and the Buffoon in Jubilife.
 
Last edited:
originally written approximately early Jan. 2013

"Look"
Chapter 38, Saga 6
by RaccoonGoon​


The IP Bounty Hunter Fyodor landed in Jubilife City and walked downtown, tasked with apprehending the target bounty head. The IP Agent Looker landed shortly behind him, tasked with monitoring the man. He followed him into the downtown district.

The man in the real Lopunny fur hat turned into a seedy looking ally and rapped on a metal door. It creaked open and he stepped inside. Looker walked into the ally and looked at the faded name stamped on the door. Lounge of the Dead.

He knocked on the door, which opened just a little bit. Two bloodshot eyes looked out.

"What's the password?"

He flashed his IP badge at the pair of eyes.

"I must conduct important business in here, good guard. Let me enter."

The door opened all the way and he stepped inside. The whole lounge had a red tint to it. Sleazy looking men were either playing billiards or grabbing and pawing at the waitresses, who were dressed in skimpy rubber uniforms, gas masks concealing each of their faces, only their hair visible. The whole place was shrouded in a fog of smoke. He spotted Fyodor sitting at a table with a man in a pinstriped suit that had a large bulbous nose. The Bounty Hunter pulled out a cigar and had a nearby waitress light it up for him.

This was something. Was this a dishonest deal? Or just the man who hired Fyodor? Looker slyly sat at the table behind them and listened.

"So you've seen him in town, yes?"

"Yes. The little stain is still evading my Linoone-Goons at every turn."

"Do not fret, comrade. I will find him and your trouble will be over."

"When you do catch him, who do I make the Tabbs out to?"

"The International Police funding department. They'll send it to my account from there."
"Excellent. I'll leave you to your work now, Fyodor."

The man with the beard took a long draw from his cigar, put it out on the table, and left. Looker followed him outside, and upon stepping into the ally, noticed the Bounty Hunter had vanished. No sign of him in the street. Where did he go? He couldn't just vanish like that, could he? This wasn't good. He had lost track of the man he had to track.

A young lady was walking down the ally, wearing one of the aforementioned skimpy rubber outfits. She stopped by the door and started to strap a gas mask over her head.

"Excuse me, but did you happen to pass an older man walking down the ally?"

The waitress looked at Looker. He saw his double reflection in the eyes of the mask. She made some sort of reply and pointed at the dead end behind him. Her voice was terribly muffled by the mask. Before he could ask her to repeat what she had said, she had knocked on the door and went inside. The metal door clanged shut. He turned and stared at the dead end. What was she trying to say?

Hands thrust in his pockets he began his search, walking out of the ally. If he had taken a few more steps in the other way, past a large dumpster, he would have seen the hole carved into the earth, burrowing down into the sewers of the city. But he didn't.

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Lunch hour had passed and it was a windy afternoon in Jubilife. Everyone was bustling about, people walking and taking public buses to where they needed to be. Looker, on a bench, kept his eyes peeled for Fyodor. He was getting desperate. He had spent the rest of the morning searching around the city, to no avail.

He sighed and looked down the street. The usual scene. A large public city bus was coming down the road, full of people, traveling not too fast nor too slow. Just the usual scene.

Looker had never seen a Pokemon from Unova before. He had seen a few pictures, yes, and read about them some, but he had never witnessed one in person. Now, as a large red and black monster shot from the pavement and concrete, he had seen one. A Krooodile, a large one. The Ground/Dark-Type burst from the underground directly under the rear left tire of the bus, biting into it with it's massive jaws.

All of Jubilife seemed to scream at the scene and Looker bolted up, shocked at the sudden event. The bus tried to drive off, but only the front wheels skidded on the pavement. Krookodile had a secure hold on the tire with it's teeth, and was strong enough to hold the back portion a few inches above the ground. The Pokemon began to crawl from the hole it had made, sliding it's robust stomach from the dirt and standing on it's strong legs. The bus was now fully diagonal.

The bus driver threw the doors open and the passengers began spilling out, running over each other in absolute terror. By this point Fyodor himself climbed above ground and stood by the door, waiting patiently as the screaming people ran past him. He let them pass until one fellow wearing a long coat and boots was grabbed and pulled towards the Bounty Hunter.

"Raskolnikov! Comrade! I heard you would be here!"

The tired looking man, suddenly seized, let his eyes grow wide. Mayhem was still filling the street. Raskolnikov swung a fist and boxed Fyodor on the ear, making him let go. The bounty head escaped into the thick crowd of running people.

"That blockhead! I'll brain him yet! Ici, Krookodile!"

The Pokemon snarled and began to Crunch down on the bus, bending the tire and rear axle, smashing it as if it were paper. Soon the Pokemon's jaws snapped together, completely destroying the tire, sending bits of metal and rubber flying. It finally released it's hold of the bus, which dropped to the ground with a bang. Looker couldn't believe the power of this creature. What was worse is that it seemed to mostly operate on it's own, with little input from Fyodor.

Krookodile ran straight through the crowd with surprising speed and agility, Fyodor following nearly as fast, after the bounty head. Lagging a little was Looker, not losing sight of the chase.

"Dig and block him!"

The Pokemon jumped and crushed the hard ground with it's sinister long snout and tunneled into the earth. It swam underneath the fleeing man and sprung upwards, in front of him, halting him.

"Now, Earthquake!"

Fyodor was insane. He couldn't execute an Earthquake here, in the middle of a city full of people running all over. But Krookodile complied and the whole block began to shake and shudder. Windows broke, walls cracked, sidewalks chipped, and people fell to the jostling ground in horror. What a horrible day in Jubilife. Looker's legs turned to water and his vision shook violently, the only still form was Krookodile and it's dark eyes.

Sirens and alarms sounded, cars were toppled, and people were yelling and moaning. Raskolnikov was trying to stand. Krookodile grabbed the man with it's short, pointed claws and held hm up. Fyodor, somehow not effected from the Earthquake, walked up.

"Just come clean, comrade. It'll be better for you.

The shaken man shook his head and remained silent.

"Come now. We both know you could not afford such nice footwear before, you had to get the funds from somewhere. Arceus will make all things clear eventually, anyway. Tell the truth now."

"You're one to talk about Arceus, you buffoon!"

Krookodile pressed it's claws deeper into the man's shoulders and began to sniff at the man's neck with it's long red snout.

"She's getting hungry, you see. I implore you to come clean. Repent!"

Raskolnikov began to sob.

"It was I who murdered the Pokemart attendant and stole her money...it was me..."

He said it again, louder. Fyodor smiled.

"Was that so hard? He-he-he!"

The bearded man cuffed the criminal, spoke into his radio, and returned Krookodile. A man on a Fearow swooped down and frowned at the sight.

"Goodness, Fyodor. Did you have to wreck the place so much?"

Raskolnikov was picked up in the Flying-Types talons. Fyodor climbed aboard and chuckled. He looked back at the mess. He almost seemed pleased. Looker was still too shocked to seek cover, and could have sworn Fyodor's gaze met his own.

"It's just my craft, comrade. Now get this beaked beast airborne!"

The Fearow took off and flew away. Looker finally found his footing and jotted everything down. None of the Bounty Hunters seemed guilty of any underhanded deal. All he knew for sure was that he had to return to HQ. And that's what he did.

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Cullen listened to Looker, studied the notes, and studied the different profiles. He furrowed his brow.

"So you're saying Aldous zapped a man in mid-air with a very powerful move?"

"Correct, sir."

"...And Ernest is the beau of a nurse in Sootopolis?"

"Seems to be, sir."

"And Fyodor damaged a city bus, Earthquake'd a whole town block, and threw a whole city into panic?"

"It was a mess, sir."

Cullen frowned, then he gradually smiled. His pale blue eyes lit up and he stood. Looker stood as well, expecting to be dismissed from the case.

"Looker, shake my hand. These notes are what we need to get rid of these cut-throats."

He shook the Director's hand, a little confused. Was that all this was about, getting recorded details to ruin the Bounty Hunting rank?

"So...there was never under-the-table deals at all? It was made up?"

"Well, everyone always suspected there were, in that line of work, and people suspected Fyodor of such things, so we used that as an excuse to give you a reason to gather intel on their missions. You did a great job, Agent."

He still didn't understand. It felt like he had been used to kick out a group of men just doing their jobs. The Director saw Looker's worried face.

"Aldous put a suspect's life in danger by attacking him while he was high in the air. What if he had fell from the Drifblim? And the IP is going to get the bill for the repairs in Jubilife City due to Fyodor's reckless behavior. We're lucky nobody was seriously injured in his Earthquake. And Ernest, his only fault is sparking with a lady on our time."

"Oh, I see. You can't have licensed IP members like that.".

"Exactly. Just because they bring in bad guys doesn't allow them to get special treatment."

Looker felt a little better, if still a bit used.

"Why didn't you just have somebody follow them before?"

The man with the deep voice thought a moment.

"Good question. I guess we were waiting on the right Agent. Regardless, this'll go down as a success on your record. This took three days, yes? Give yourself three days of leave, plus the weekend. Dismissed."

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The three IP Bounty Hunters were apprehended and brought into Cullen's office, one at a time. They were questioned about their recent missions. They were told their behavior could not be attached to the IP, and would have to turn in their badges.

Aldous set his badge on the desk. He adjusted his glasses, hastily threw a pill in his mouth, and told Cullen to take care. He didn't seem to mind, just a bit embarrassed at being fired so suddenly.

Ernest eagerly handed his badge to Cullen. Now, at last, he could run off to Unova with his squeeze. He shook the Director's hand, invited him to a Tauros fight sometime, and rushed down to the docks to find a boat headed for Sootopolis.

Fyodor. Oh, Fyodor. He stamped his foot, shook his fists, and sputtered out swears. Lt. Welker and another Officer had to hold him back while Cullen un-clipped his badge. As the ex-bounty hunter was being escorted to the elevator he began to rant about blockheads and glass castles and everything being permitted and other such drivel. By the time he was dragged to the dock he had composed himself, proclaiming he was of noble birth, and patiently waited for an outgoing boat. As he stepped on the dingy he seemed remorseful and blue about it all. He apologized, and told Welker to tell Cullen he was sorry for the uproar.

The bunkhouse was cleared out and used as extra storage for the Mess Hall. The Bounty Hunter rank was removed from the whole system. No one could become an IP licensed bounty hunter anymore.

Looker's much shorter second case was a success. He was praised for this fast, clean mission. Some fellows at the Water Spout toasted him, saying he solved the "Fyodor problem" for good. Roxanne wondered what he'd do on his leave time, and after his answer, offered to make his apartment feel more like a home.

So they did. Drapes and rugs were selected, some paintings were hung on the wall, a bookshelf was brought in, and Roxanne game him some silverware. He spent his five free days walking around the island with Roxanne, playing cards with Smith, Roger, Abra Man, and others in the Rec. Room. For some reason Abra Man would always win. Smith protested he should return his Abra to it's Pokeball before the hand was dealt, but the Abra Man wouldn't have it, saying Looker let Croagunk out and about during the card games. So Croagunk was allowed a chair at the table and dealt a hand, and it always came down to the Abra-human duo and Croagunk.

Looker let all three of his Pokemon out in his office. They helped him file paperwork and whatnot. When Golbat saw his tooth displayed on the desk he fixed his eyes on it and ran his tongue over him gums where it should be. He didn't seem mad or angry over it anymore, just amazed that part of him was preserved behind glass. Nidorino would usually take a nap in the corner, snoring soundly. Looker had a fleeing thought of opening a Poison-Type Gym, but soon realized he was hardly gifted at battling. Croagunk was the only real fighter of the bunch, and mostly acted on his own.

Besides, he had found his calling, something he was good at, and something he loved. He'd never quit the International Police.

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Dear reader, I hate to inform you that we're on the last stretch of the story of Looker. We've seen his exodus from Sinnoh. We've detailed his entrance into the International Police and his grasping of the work. We've seen him on his first grueling adventure and his open-and-shut second case. This story, you see, was meant as a pre-history of our handsome Agent, not a total biography detailing his whole long life.

We can perhaps spend a couple more chapters discussing our hero, then we must depart as friends.

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Here are a few cases Looker completed after the case of the Platinum Meowth Coin and the case of the Three Bounty Hunters and before his "highlight" cases.

-The case of the Kidnapped Fantina.
-The case of the Underground Breeding Ring.
-The case of the Egg Thief and her Fantastic Contraption.
-The case of the Scourge of Battle Island.
-The case of the Monster Dragonite Mystery.

Perhaps you'll hear of those adventures one day, dear reader, but for now know all these cases were closed successfully and Looker's reputation grew. Let us now return to just a few days after his second case had wrapped up.

A new batch of Trainees sailed in on the S.S. Thermal, and after running the large wooden obstacle course, were directed to the Mess Hall for dinner. Officer Smith was planning to keep Stan's prank as a tradition and asked Looker if he'd like to help. The Agent was honored. Smith was filling a box with flashlights while Looker directed a couple of Machoke to set the luggage down. Croagunk picked out a suitcase and set it in the Rec. Room.

The Trainees were still eating dinner in the Mess Hall when Smith walked in, called them to attention, and called out the fifty of them that would be moving on. While this was going on Looker had Golbat Fly over the copse and drop a small silver button in the middle of it. He wondered if anyone would find the minuscule hint and solve the prank like he had two years ago.

Smith led the Trainees to the barracks and told them to find their luggage.

"I had the one with the sticker!"
"Here's mine!"
"Is that real Feraligatr skin?"
"Hey, watch the elbows!"
"Who brought a trunk? Somebody always brings a trunk!"

All found their luggage, except one girl who fell to pieces. All her things were gone!

Looker walked up to Smith as he told the group about the suddenly escaped luggage thief that had fled into the woods. This was their first mission, finding the thief and retrieving the missing suitcase. The flashlights were handed out and the fifty Trainees marched into the woods, searching for something that wasn't there.

The two men spent all night in the Rec. Room, laughing and waiting if anyone would wise up to the trick. Roger walked in after a long day of flights and asked why they were still up.

"Trainees came in today." Smith said.

"Ah. Hand me a mug."

In the wee hours of the morning they went out. Most of the Trainees had given up and were sitting on the ground, dirty and exhausted. They had scoured the woods, been assaulted by Murkrow, and one claimed he saw a tree with a zipper smile and red eyes chuckling at him. A few of the more stubborn were still in the copse. Smith called into the woods, had all of the Trainees huddle up, and addressed them.

"Has anyone found the suitcase or the thief?"

Heads shook and eyes closed. They just wanted sleep.

"No? Oh, goodness."

While he was speaking Croagunk, with the missing suitcase, slipped to the row of luggage against the barrack and slid it between two other suitcases. Looker gave a discreet thumbs-up to his partner and went over to count.

"Hey, Smith! There's fifty suitcases here! None of them were missing after all!"

The group of Trainees didn't take this all in at once. Smith acted surprised and took out his radio, pretending to listen to it.

"You mean the thief didn't get past the gate? That's a relief! Glad that's cleared up!"

He looked at the group of droopy eyes. They had stayed up all night in the woods for nothing.

"You may all go to your barracks. We're starting the day in a few hours. Sleep tight, Trainees."

The girl who had lost her luggage would have been harassed for overlooking her own suitcase, but they were all too tired to pick on her, and would still be too groggy to do so when they awoke.

After the lights in the barracks went out Smith, Looker, and Croagunk walked back to the Rec. Room for a very needed cup of coffee. Roger was passed out on the couch. The Agent was feeling pleased that nobody had figured it out like he had.

"Did last year's group figure it out?"

"Nope. So far only you have. We call the group you were in the only batch of Trainees that had a good night's sleep the first night here."

The men laughed and slumped down into the arm chairs.

Fin. Chapter 38

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Next Chapter: The Story of Looker, as we know it, and the highlights of his career.
 
Last edited:
originally written approximately Jan. 2013

"Look"
Chapter 39, Part the Last pt.1
by RaccoonGoon​


Years passed at IP HQ, as they did all around the globe. Technologies such as the PC, the Global Trading System, higher performance Pokeballs, computer made Pokemon, the updated Pokedex and it's upgrades, and other such wonders were birthed, making the world of Pokemon even greater. Even the Pokemon Rangers became an actual agency, which made Looker spit soda all over his desk when he found out. He was so sure this group of tree-huggers would tank and fail, now here they were monitoring the globe, too, helping protect Pokemon and their habitats.

Somewhere on this blue globe Looker's birth home was still there, and was never visited by him, and was rarely on his mind.

On some blue ocean a large trading hip churned, housing a colorful cast of Sailors. Sailor Luke and his hearty laugh, Sailor Connery and Trebek's back and forth, Sailor Steinbeck's sayings and cigars, Sailor Benjamin's sad, raspy songs.

One year the trading ship made a stop at HQ to deliver rolls of stock paper. Looker just so happened to be returning from a case when he saw the large ship and Sailor Bruce unloading crates. He rushed up the gangplank and was reunited with his sea-faring comrades. They were all pleased to see him, how he had grown, and how he had reached his dream. The captain shook his hand and guffawed. They were all still the same, silly sailors. When the cargo was dropped, the anchor hoisted, and the ship drifting off, the sailors waved to their honorary shipmate in the trench coat.

"Looker-boy! Ahahah!"
"He really did stay shiny! Good job, Ponyta-Boy!"
"Don't be like Trebek, Looker! You know how he is!"
"Have you cut the sacred earth yet, lad? Get to it!"
"Don't listen to Connery!"
"Shove it, Trebek!"
"Looker! You salty Seele!"
"Hurrah for Looker! Hurrah!"

It was bittersweet seeing the men who had helped him so early on. He hope he'd see them again. It was always nice to see old friends.

That was the first time Looker felt it had all come full-circle.

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You remember Rex and Vic Hayden, of course. They spent their lives in Caravanah Prison, wasting away. Hayden was sentenced to the Electrode-Chair, still the way to kill a man at that time. It took three jolts to finish the job. His last words were screaming out that a man named Giovanni should be locked up as well, as he had the true Platinum Meowth Coin, that the one in Pewter was a fake. By the second jolt he had stopped talking, but his green eyes were still flaring madly.

Nobody ever suspected the Platinum Meowth Coin was fake. It was eventually stored away and replaced with a nifty model of a space shuttle. Giovanni was never linked to the case and became a successful business man. He opened his own Gym in Viridian City and shortly after learned his expensive science project, the one you all know about the powerful Mewtwo, went terribly wrong. The decanted Pokemon all but destroyed the Pokemon Mansion in it's escape. Mr.Fuji moved back to Lavender Town, Blaine fell back on his Gym, and Mewtwo flew off to parts unknown. Giovanni, now knowing cloning Pokemon was possible, needed strong, rare Pokemon. But he was just one man, after all. He left his wife and young son and created Team Rocket, but you knew all this, too.

This was the first in Looker's highlight cases. The year was --95, and he was around thirty years old. He used his IP access to spend a tour on the luxury liner, the St.Anne, tracking the gang of thugs.

He brought forty-three Rocket members to justice. Giovanni himself was thwarted by a mute trainer named Red, but escaped the law's grasp. He vanished for three years, where he was found, legs broken, by Tojo Falls. Just a bit before a few remnants of Team Rocket formed in Johto, but were stopped in a timely fashion by another young Pokemon trainer. Finally, after a life of crime, this man was brought to justice.

While on the St. Anne, ported in Vermillion, a gentleman and young lass took a lodging in a cabin. The two had spent four years in Kanto, they said, and were returning to Sinnoh to open a research lab. Looker became fast pals with the man, an older fellow named Rowan, and the young girl he was with reminded him of Johanna from years gone by.

That was the case of Team Rocket. Looker thought the black outfits resembled the grey uniforms worn by the short lived Team Spade, but then again, maybe designing gang outfits was difficult.

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Larson's, the Poke-friendly restaurant in Eterna, shut down. Who would have guessed having Pokemon about would be unsanitary? Shortly afterward Celia passed away in her sleep. She had lived a long, touching life. Looker dropped everything to attend the funeral, held at a pretty public garden in Eterna. After the service he saw Johanna and was walking to her, wanting to talk to her, but she hurriedly left, deeply saddened. I'm not sure if she even knew Looker had attended the funeral. Things with Palmer didn't work out, as many summer flings don't. She grew up, put Pokemon contests behind her, and married a traveling Pokemon trainer, birthing his child. The father chose to kept traveling, and Johanna raised her son until he set off on his own journey. I hate to inform you Johanna and Looker never spoke again.

To prove it's a small world, Palmer also married a woman and had a child, a blond boy who was just like his father in both looks and personality. Palmer chased his dreams and became the Tower Tycoon, the strongest Pokemon trainer in Sinnoh. His son, Barry, and Johanna's son, Diamond, grew up in the small town of Twinleaf, and were actually neighbors. The two were friends and rivals. I doubt they were aware that their parents use to be a couple, and I wager they would hardly care. These Pokemon trainers also helped stop a power hungry man and his gang of ruffians in Sinnoh, which moves us to Looker's second highlight case.

The boy with spiky blue hair and empty eyes from Sunnyshore, Cyrus, grew up and founded the Galactic Foundation. This didn't fulfill him, however, as he still saw the awful strife in the world. He formed Team Galactic and started his quest to reshape reality to his liking. He seized Valley Windworks, tried to blow up Lake Valor, and caused a large energy disturbance atop Mt.Coronet. Looker tracked this mad man down around Sinnoh, always half a step behind. Finally, Cyrus was stopped by Diamond, and people claim he was sucked into the "Distortion World", but more realistic folk claim he fell from the summit and buried under a snow drift, where he froze to death. Looker didn't return to HQ empty handed, though. A miss Mars and Jupiter were arrested, as well as the old scientist Cheron, all connected with Team Galactic's crimes. A man named Saturn, however, could not be connected with the crimes. Upon searching the Galactic building at Veilstone, no slanderous records of the man could be found. Coupled with that, and the fact he tipped Looker off about Cyrus' plan on the summit, he was never charged, and runs the Galactic Foundation to this day.

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Eterna Condominiums is still open and ran by the sleepy Superintendent and the ditzy receptionist and Rad Rickshaw still runs the Bike Shop.

The Lounge of the Dead, in Jubilife, is amazingly still open, though it won't appear on any city map or tour guide.

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He and Roxanne never delved into a serious relationship but were very good friends. Her father, the school teacher, retired and implored his studious daughter to take over. She was up in the air about it until a secure Gym position was promised. She turned in her badge and moved back to Hoenn to run the Rustboro Gym and school. The two write to each other regularly enough and he makes sure to visit her very time he's in Hoenn.

He helped Smith every year with the Trainees, and he became good friends with the Abra Man and Roger. The Abra Man demanded that more IP members carry Teleporting Pokemon. Cull agreed with this idea.

Cullen is still the IP Director to this day, and every year his rectangular mustache fades a bit. The strong voiced man valued Looker more and more and the two formed a strong camaraderie.

He and Stan made it a point to meet up once a year and go on a Poke Safari. Even when the Safari Zone moved to Johto they went and spent a whole day baking in the sun and seeing who could catch more prized creatures. Some years they even went to the Hoenn Safari Zone, where they'd also invite Roxanne. Any Pokemon caught were either donated or released back into the wild. Stan's Tauros was used as a steed, allowing the man to ditch his cane. His Chansey became a house keeper. His Staraptor nested in a tree out front. Delcatty took many Delcatty naps a day.

In regards to Looker and his Pokemon. He donated Nidorino to the Toxicology Department, where he enjoyed being the department's pet and mascot. Golbat, sadly, passed away. Pokemon can survive many things, but a metal bike ringer sinking lower and lower into his intestines isn't one of them. He should have saw the signs. When Golbat would let out a ringing cry it sounded lower and more hollow. Soon the bell sank lower, twisting in the Pokemon's guts. While he was being put down Looker rubbed his ears, thanking him for becoming his friend and for Flying him around. Golbat, eye's closing, touched his tongue to man's left arm, atop the scar on it, then up to Looker's cheek, as if to say "No hard feelings, friend. I saw so many new places with you. Let's call it even." Looker felt terribly guilty after Golbat's death. He was one of the first living things he had met in Sinnoh. This sad occurrence made the displayed tooth on his desk that more important to him. Roger told Looker he'd give priority flights to him anytime. Roxanne was still an Officer at the time and did everything she could to cheer him up. He eventually got back to his old self, and it was him and Croagunk again. The perfect duo, really.

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I'd very much like to follow up on our friend, the assassin, but sadly, I simply do not know what became of him. He was swallowed by a second Wailord, very much alive, but I fear that without Banette, his darling, he hadn't the will to live and survive on. But who knows. He seemed rather hard to kill, so perhaps he is still alive, either within a big blue stomach or out and about, running from shadow to shadow. I'd very much like to know. If you happen to know, please let me know so we can properly follow up on the man.

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Looker finally got the chance to go to the far-off Unova Region. This was after the case of Team Rocket and the case of Team Galactic, and he was very much an adult, some would say middle aged. He was tasked to investigate the strange group known as Team Plasma, led by a vile man named Ghetsis, and his odd son, simply named N. Team Plasma wanted all Pokemon to be free from the chains of humans and were willing to do very criminal acts to achieve this.

Looker tracked Ghetsis through the large Region until the man was stopped by, you guessed it, yet another young Pokemon trainer named Black. N managed to escape on the mythical Reshiram, a Legendary Dragon/Fire-Type. The International Police managed to track the soaring figure a long way until N veered north, where the signal went dead.

Ghetsis was arrested and Team Plasma was disbanded. For a few years, anyway. A few of the more extreme members splintered off and reformed while the more tame followers chose to pursue normal, peaceful lives. This neo Team Plasma enlisted the help of the scientist named Colress, managed to break their leader from prison, and tried to freeze Unova (Using Colress' air ship and the power of the Legendary Pokemon Kyrum). They deduced with everything frozen they could steal the Pokemon easier, and with said Pokemon, rule the world quicker.

Again, a young Pokemon trainer stopped the nefarious plan, Ghetsis was apprehended once more, and the world was saved. Colress steered his air ship to the southern Unova ocean, disbanding Team Plasma once and for all.

At the time of this narration, Looker and Croagunk are preparing to travel to the air ship and arrest Colress. Sources say he helped Team Plasma or the sole purpose of research, but that isn't a good enough reason to freeze a whole city. He'd have to answer for his contribution to the crimes.

But, we're not going to delve into that story, anyway. That was Looker's third highlight case. These cases all but made his career, and I'm sure you've all heard these tales before, and probably know them better than I.

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Ernest and his main squeeze moved to Unova, happy to finally get away. He released his Luxray, saying a farewell to Poke-arms. The pretty nurse got pregnant and tragically died during childbirth. The newborn also passed away shortly after. Ernest, now a broken man, walked home in the rain and was never heard from again.

Aldous moved to a little place in the Almia Region, where he wrote a great deal and took more and more of his "vacation pills." He more than likely died from overdosing on the pills on a winter day, seeing visions of his Pokemon utopia and pink pills flowing freely.

Fyodor. Oh Fyodor. After bounty hunting he became a very spiritual man, and even gave a very moving, masterful speech in front of Hearthome's International Building that moved the crowd to tears, saying with Pokemon we can be the light of the world and make it a better, more beautiful place that it all ready is. I just so happened to be present when he delivered his speech, and I can assure you it was grand. He spent his later years writing a novel titled The Brothers Skuntank, a tale about three brothers and their buffoonish father, who he aptly named after himself. He had an epileptic fit shorty after, above a set of stone stairs. The tumble, sadly, crushed in his skull, killing him. A great deal of people, all fans of his literary magnum opus, attended the funeral.

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Melvin, forever stuck with a rough and scratchy voice, hardly spoke to his fellow scientists at Silph Co. He dove into his research. Shortly after the assassin fled into the night he examined his awfully bruised throat. The sides of it puffed up, looking like purple bulbs. Years later, when the company was working on the Master Class Pokemon Encapsulate Ball, he remembered his injured throat and designed the basic shell design of the Masterball while other brains worked on how it perfectly caught Pokemon without fail. When the device was perfected and produced Melvin became very rich from the design and lived out a happy life.

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Timmy, the lad who didn't quite make it into the International Police, moved back home with his Munchlax and lived a content life. When he was grown he was traveling abroad in Sinnoh when he stopped at a restaurant, fell in love with the food, and asked for the chef. It was Greg, the lad with the Golduck. He had opened a restaurant in Valor Lakefront and worked the same job that he ran away from back at HQ. The two became business partners and the business soared. It became such a hot spot it put the Beached Whiscash in the neighboring Sunnyshore out of business.

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We're not done with this story yet, dear reader. We've caught up with every character, mostly, but not all of them. To finally close this tale we must check up on the one who started all this. The one, who, without his actions, may have started some other story. We should all be lucky this man effected Looker in such a way, for without him I'd have nothing to tell you at all.

Fin. Chapter 39

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Next Chapter: The final chapter of "Look"
 
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