TEEN: Black Heart, Bright Soul

[Misfit Angel]

A story written by Misfit Angel, with input from stormislandgal89​

Welcome to Black Heart, Bright Soul! This is a story that has been in the works in some form or another for over ten years -- taking bits and pieces from various projects I've worked on over the years, such as Storm Island and both incarnations of Land of the Roses. I'm hoping this is the last time I have to restart this story, but... well, it's a tradition at this point!

Black Heart, Bright Soul is set in the fictional Kingdom of Lanark, a land inspired primarily by Scottish, Irish, Welsh and to a lesser extent English culture and geography. I've spent nearly three years building the Kingdom of Lanark as a unique and varied setting with a deep national history, wide range of cultures and a touch of real world hopelessness. The story blends a modern, technologically-advanced society with elements of both traditional and high fantasy, combining the two into (hopefully) a fairly unique world.

The story focuses on two protagonists, Andrea Dennison and Kimberly Fairbrooke. Andrea, the black heart, is an aspiring biological researcher who is eager to reap the results of her hard work and get her dream career off of the ground. Kimberly, the bright soul, is a young and wealthy socialite who is searching for her purpose in life, and thinks she might have found it in the field of Pokémon Coordination. As the two work together in the interests of personal discovery, they're supported by a wide cast of characters with their own dreams and ambitions; a clashing mix of personalities sets the stage for love, anguish, anger and most importantly, fun!

An important note about this story is that, while it's set in the Pokémon universe, the focus is on its human cast first and foremost. Friendships and romance will be a key plot point of this story, but I'm hesitant to class it as a shipping story as it'll be more than just that. I'm attempting to make it more Pokémon-centric compared with previous iterations of the story, but I'm still trying to find my footing with that.

- Content Warnings -
The following will crop up at some point. Individual chapters in which they apply will be marked.
[ very strong language ] :: [ graphic violence ]
[ references to drug and alcohol abuse ] :: [ references to anorexia and other body image issues ]
[ minor, mild, moderate and major sexually suggestive content and innuendos ] :: [ depictions of workplace sexual harassment ] :: [ references to nudity ]

- Content Tags -
What will you find within Black Heart, Bright Soul? This list is not complete, and there is more to come!
[ custom characters ] :: [ custom region ] :: [ custom pokemon ] :: [ very few canon references ]
[ primary focus on interpersonal drama ] [ secondary focus on shipping ] [ tertiary focus on pokemon training and coordination ]​

Focus Characters
Chapters are color coded based on who is the chapter's focus character -- which person the story's third person limited perspective is told from:

• Andrea Dennison
• Kimberly Fairbrooke
• Patrick Adelaide

Table of Contents

Part I: The Shadow

• Prologue I - The Wilted Flower
  A young biology enthusiast has been contacted by a staff member of a prestigious scientific research center and given an opportunity to prove her worth. She's not certain she has what it takes, however.
• Chapter 1 - First Impressions
  Andrea arrives at the Reiland Institute to meet her potential future boss and discuss the contract work she'll be helping with.
• Chapter 2 - Remember, A Rose Has Thorns
  It's a long walk through the beautiful highlands of Alstan County towards the village of Rosewater Falls, but even the most peaceful-looking countryside has its hidden dangers.
• Chapter 3 - The Third Wheel
  Having arrived in Rosewater Falls after sunset, Andrea is faced with the fact that she'll have to share a bedroom with a flirty couple she doesn't know.
• Chapter 4 - Wings in the Wild
  Andrea, Patrick and Emily assist with the Wild Wings Waterfowl Refuge's tag and release program.
• Chapter 5 - Proving Grounds
  Andrea thinks she's stumbled upon something that'll help her prove she's Reiland Institute material. Can she prove her suspicions?
• Interlude I - wiltedlilacx
  Still making his decision about whether to hire Andrea or not, Patrick is presented with a potential treasure trove of information about her: her social media network.

Part II: The Shining Star

• Prologue II - The Rising Star
  A newcomer to the Pokémon coordination scene is asked by a living legend in the Pokémon training scene to attend a party in her honor.
• Chapter 6 - The Dark Idol
  Kimberly reunites with her old travel partner and up and coming competitive training superstar, Nicole Spencer, but it's not the happiest of reunions.

 

[Misfit Angel]

- Content warnings -
[ mild sexually suggestive content and innuendos ]

- Content notes -
The contents of this chapter are largely similar to that of Prologue: The Wilted Flower of Land of the Roses 2.0, with a few minor changes and additions.​

Spoiler: Chapter graphic

So I made some pretty neat chapter intro graphics, but after a while, I realized how much work it'd be to create them for every chapter (and change them up, based on who the focus character was), so... they won't be coming back. However, I'm pretty proud of how they look, so I'll keep them for any chapter that currently has them.​

Black Heart, Bright Soul
Prologue: The Wilted Flower​

"Always keep an eye out for those who don't believe in themselves. Encourage them, nurture them; they usually turn out to be among our greatest minds."​

~ Rose League Champion Robin Spencer (December 7th, 1992)​

​

May 12th
Aughrim, Kingdom of Lanark

"You'll never get another opportunity like this..." a young woman told herself as she sat at the vanity in her bedroom. She pushed her long blonde hair out of her eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to maintain eye contact with her reflection, but she found it difficult. The person staring back at her seemed so different compared to who she was just a month previously -- bright eyed and ready for the stellar opportunity ahead of her, rather than depressed, defeated and ready for it all to just end. "You have to do this..."

On the edge of the vanity was her laptop, and an e-mail that she had received over a week ago was on the screen:

Subject: Greetings, Ms. Dennison! Information about your application to the Reiland Institute
Date: April 29th, 12:17 PM
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]

Hello, Andrea! Thank you for sending in an employment application to the Reiland Institute! I am Patrick Adelaide, Chief of Staff of the Reiland Institute's Biological Sciences and Research Department. It's a long title, so you can just call me Patrick!

Dr. Reiland and myself have gone over your application in great detail. She is impressed by your accomplishments and achievements at such a young age, but has some concerns about how well you'd fit in at the Institute. She has asked me for input regarding your application, and we've come to an agreement regarding your interest in working here: we want to see your work ethic up close, and are inviting you to participate in some of the Institute's contract work, supervised by myself (and fully paid, we don't do the unpaid intern thing!), before we make a final decision regarding your application.

When you get this message, please call me and we'll discuss some of the finer details regarding both your application and the work we'll have you handling. My office number is 44-1-772-9128. If you can't reach me there, my personal number is 44-2-654-1173. I want to stress early that we'll be covering your travel and living expenses for this trial assignment, since we understand that you're currently living in Aughrim, and this work may take a few days to complete.

Looking forward to hearing from you, and congratulations for making it past the first hurdle of the employment process! Most applicants don't get this far, so don't procrastinate with getting in touch!

Patrick Adelaide
Reiland Institute Chief of Staff​

She had read that e-mail nearly a dozen times since receiving it, and even spoken with the person who had sent it, but she still couldn't believe it; ever since she was a little girl, from the moment she performed her first chemical reaction in her parents' tool shed, she'd dreamed of one day working in one of the major sciences -- pushing the bounds of current knowledge and discovering new things. Her interest in chemistry had waned during her childhood and given way towards her interest in Pokémon-related biology, but the dream remained the same. After fourteen long years of intense work, countless hours spent studying and endless determination, that dream was finally within her grasp.

So close... and so easy to fall short on, a deeply troubling concern that she couldn't shake.

"It's only the most prestigious research center in the kingdom, and you were only expelled from university... Not to mention all the other shit that's gone wrong since the start of the year..."

Light, tingly pain radiated outward from her hands as her black fingernails dug into the hard oaken surface of the vanity. Her eyes drifted upward and met those of her reflection once again.

"But you can do this, Andrea! You have to do this... Otherwise it's back to square one, and you can't afford to start back there again..."

As she stared at herself in the mirror, she debated about how to present herself. Her options were limited by what she had, limitations which were created by her limited wealth -- which in turn was created by her limited work experience. She looked down at the basket of clothes beside the vanity, and most of what was in it was black; a little bit of red here, some lavender there, and a splash of grey in between, but still mostly black. Buried at the bottom of the basket was the only piece that wasn't: the spring green off-the-shoulder skater dress that she wore to her high school prom. It was hardly appropriate for first impressions at her dream job, and even then likely didn't fit her anymore.

"Guess I'll be wearing black for this..." she commented as she lifted her mascara brush and began to work on her eyelashes. "Not that I'm complaining..."

As she put the finishing touches on her mascara, there was a knock at the door, and a voice came from the other side. "Andi? Can I come in?"

She lowered her mascara brush and smiled. "Of course!"

The door swung open and a pudgy young man with shaggy, shoulder-length brown hair stepped in. He averted his eyes as soon as he saw how little she was wearing. "Oh! Wow! Thought you'd be more dressed than that by now."

She giggled. "I'm still trying to decide on what I should wear..." she answered as she carefully drew a wing shape of smokey charcoal eyeshadow over her left eye. "Pretty sure it'll be my Misfit Angel Enchantress dress."

The man's face contorted with skepticism. "You sure that's wise? You realize you're going to be spending a couple days with these folks, right? Not going to a rave down at The Lair?"

She sighed. "You're right, but what other option do I have? Besides, that's who I am," she returned, starting the winged eyeshadow over her right eye. That smile returned to her face. "And besides, who do I have to thank for that lesson, eh ol' buddy ol' pal? 'Be true to who you are'?"

He laughed. "Okay, you've got a point there. Still, you've known about this opportunity for a couple weeks, you didn't think to pick up anything more... professional looking? It could still be black, just not as... you know, slutty."

"Have you forgotten that we're going some nights without dinner just to make our rent payments? I can't afford to buy a new dress, even from a charity shop."

"Hey, I could have set aside a few silver roses for --"

"Webster! Just drop it," she barked with a tinge of annoyance in her voice. "You know how much being jobless for the past five months has torn me apart, and you know how much I don't like being reminded of that. Besides, I like dressing that way."

"Right, sorry."

She shook her head. "Forgiven. It's impossible to be mad at you." She finalized her eyeshadow and turned to look at him. "So... How do they look? Even enough? A little too heavy on the right, maybe? I always make that mistake..."

"Looks pretty even to me."

"That's a surprise." She put down her eyeshadow brush and held her hand aloft in front of her. "My hands are trembling..."

"Nervous?"

"Nervous..." she said with a half-hearted laugh. "You don't even need to ask that. Hell yes I am! The last four years of my life have led to this -- no, all fourteen years I spent in school have. Those years are going to be judged, and hard. Something from my past is going to slip through and sink this chance, I just know it. If it's not the obvious fact that I was expelled during my PhD program because I couldn't handle the pressure, it's going to be something else... Like how I got fired from my old job for insubordination because I finally told my boss I wasn't going to put up with his bullshit anymore."

He approached the bed and sat down on it. "Andi, you've gotta remember that nobody is perfect. Everyone was either dealt a shitty hand in life, or has a skeleton in their closet that they'd rather not talk about -- even this lady that you're looking to be hired by, as well respected as she is. Yeah, you've made some... poor choices in the past, reaped what you've sown, but who hasn't? I have, your father has, Callen has... You're too hard on yourself."

"Fucking Callen..." she barked, then sighed. "You're right, though. But it's hard not to be hard on myself, considering everything that happened because of my stupid decisions..."

"Hmph. What's really important, at least to you and me, is the remarkable progress you've made in putting yourself back together over the past couple of months. You need to keep focusing on that, or all of that progress might be lost."

Her eyes drifted to the floor. "I know, I know..."

"Look at it this way. You told me that the Reiland Institute doesn't hire people very often, right?"

"That's what the biology department's Chief of Staff told me, but he might just be trying to be a hype man."

"Maybe. But they invited you to visit their research center and help them with some of their work. That alone says something -- to me, at least. Do you really think they'd drag you across the country to tell you right out of the gate that you're not good enough?"

She shook her head at the thought. "I'd be furious if they did."

He smiled, reached out to grab her hand, and clasped it tightly between his own. "I understand that you're nervous, but you can't let that define who you are to these people. You're an intelligent woman with incredible potential." As he held onto her, the trembling in her hand diminish.

"Save it, I've heard that from you a dozen times this year! But today... I'll believe it."

"Good, because it's true."

She nodded her head slightly and slid her hand out of his grip, then turned around and grabbed her violet lipstick. "Words like that make me think... I don't think I've ever properly thanked you for everything you've done for me since I lost everything. I've barely contributed to the rent, even."

"You have, you just don't realize it."

"Oh yeah?" she asked, pausing her lipstick application for a brief moment.

"Uh huh. The best way to thank someone for helping you isn't through words, or gifts, or anything like that. You're doing it right now -- you're getting out of bed, pushing yourself out that door and trying to make something of yourself. You're not getting comfortable at rock bottom. It makes all of the effort I put in to helping you get back on your feet feel like it's been worth it."

She smacked her thin, darkened lips together as she examined herself in the mirror. Satisfied with her makeup, she leaned over and dug around in the basket of clothes beside her. "I hadn't thought about it that way. Still... I owe you something for all of the trouble. If I land this -- no, once I land this job, you're going to get that gift."

He laughed nervously. "Is it odd that I dread to think what you mean by that?"

"You're always suspicious of my good will, so no, it's not odd," she said, pulling her Enchantress dress out of the basket. As she looked it over, she noticed it was wrinkled to near ruin. "Fuck sake. How'd this wrinkle so badly?"

"Probably because you don't fold your clothes, you just throw them in the basket."

She laughed and shook her head. "Got a master's degree in biology, but I'm still clueless about everyday life."

"I know. They don't teach you the basics in school anymore, do they? You might want to learn that stuff quick, though. You could be out on your own shortly."

"Oh gods, don't say that! I'm not ready for that yet!"

She tossed the ruined dress onto her bed and grumbled, then dug through the rest of her clothes. Her flirty and revealing two piece Seductress set, with its long and flowing satin layers, were relatively wrinkle free, but clearly out of the question when it came to presenting herself as a professional. Likewise, her Blood Baroness dress was in good shape, but dressing like a medieval vampire lord would be far too eccentric for first impressions at a serious research institute. She'd begun to see her roommate's point about buying a new dress for the interview, but it was too late to fix that. Even worse, she didn't have the money for it; she'd spent most of her meager earnings over the past year on those very designer dresses that were the current source of her wardrobe troubles.

"What do you think..." she asked, grabbing the last of her dresses, the Spider. "If I roll up the mesh sleeves and cover the fishnets with my stockings... it... it kinda looks normal enough? Question mark?" Her voice started to crack as she thought more and more about it.

"Umm." He reached his hand outward and poked his finger through the tangled mess of web-like threads that made up the chest of the dress. "Don't you think you'll be showing off a little too much with this thing?"

"Ehhh..." she mumbled before sighing. "The girl who designed this fashion line really wasn't thinking about practicality, and I don't have anything else to wear under it..."

"No she wasn't... Well, that aside, I think that's your best bet out of everything you've got," he said with a shrug. "But don't rely on my advice. You've always got some smart ass comment about my t-shirt and track pants look."

"Don't get mad, I just think it's a boring look." As she slipped on the dress and made the adjustments needed, she asked, "I guess it's kinda fitting I'm going with this one... I'm probably going to need a Pokémon for this contract work they want me to do. Can I borrow Mary for the next few days?"

Webster's brow contorted as he thought about it. "I dunno. I know you like her, but she's a little temperamental around you. Besides, Marrowmites don't make the best battle companions, especially when they're young." He reached into the pocket of his track pants and pulled out a shiny spherical object, its red top half glinting in the morning sunlight. "Tell you what, though. Take Widow instead. She's a little more receptive to commands... Think you'll be okay with her?"

"Yeah. I'm not a total noob about it. I've handled Pokémon during my university studies."

"Handling them for research is a little bit different than commanding them in a battle situation, I'd think."

"Guess I'll find that out soon enough," she said, grabbing the Pokéball and placing it onto the vanity. "I should know the basics by now. Lord knows I've watched enough of those tournaments on TV when I should have been studying."

"Hopefully! Don't get her squished."

"I think an Ariados is a little too big to get squished... unless I run into a Snorlax out there!" she said with a laugh. "Where's all that faith in me gone?"

"Heh." He lowered his vision to the floor and nervously scratched at his neck as the room fell silent. "So, umm... Before you head to Camden Station and catch the train, do you want to get breakfast together, maybe?"

"Us? Together? Who are you, and what have you done with the real Webster?" she joked. "We haven't done anything together in nearly a month. Why the change of heart?"

"I figure it's a special day, and I get the feeling that you're not happy always being alone down at the diner."

"Finally you see that..." She grabbed her phone off of the vanity and turned it on to check the time. "Damn it... I'd love to, but I really gotta get going soon or I will miss that train and then, well... I'm fucked if I miss that train."

He lowered his head and spoke softly. "Morning's passed by that quickly, has it..."

She could sense his unhappiness, something he rarely displayed, and wrapped her arm around his shoulders for a hug. "Hey! Rain check! Let's go out for dinner when I get back in a few days!"

"Sounds good. Let me know when you're on your way back. I'll take a break from the games with the lads... Might do my blood pressure some good!"

"Ha, maybe!" she laughed, letting him go.

"Anyways, I'll get outta your hair and let you finish preparing. We'll talk later, okay?"

"Okay."

"Good luck out there, and remember: you've got this."

"Thank you."

As he left the room, she made her final preparations for her journey; she slipped her charcoal and steel-grey stockings up to her plump thighs, then slid her heavily-buckled designer knee boots over them. She dug through her collection of tacky jewelry and settled on a thematically-accurate spider ring for her left ring finger and a not-as-accurate Gogoat skull for her right hand. A simple stainless steel stud went into her eyebrow piercing next, and web-like earrings soon dangled from both ears.

"Last, but especially not least..." she murmured as she grabbed the gleaming silver chain that was neatly coiled up on the nightstand beside her bed. The glinting metal sparkled lightly with blue and purple as she positioned it around her neck, and she felt a comforting sense of warmth and safety wash over her as the tear-shaped crimson gemstone at the end of it rested above her heart. "Luck... You've done the trick before, and luck is certainly what I need today."

She slid Widow's Pokéball down her right stocking, grabbed her phone off of the nightstand and kept it safely inside her left stocking, then reached for her purse and slung it over her right shoulder. Finally, she reached for her Gengar-themed backpack and slipped it over her shoulders. With one final glance across the room to make sure she wasn't forgetting anything important, she headed for the door and flicked the light switch.

She took a deep breath. "Here goes..."

Update notes: June 3, 2023:

• Various tweaks to grammar
• Renamed Andrea's former boyfriend, Toby, to Callen. When I started this rewrite, I wasn't sure if Kimberly's muscled bodyguard, Mr. Tobey, would feature prominently beyond his first couple appearances. In the interests of differentiating them a bit, I had to rename one of them, and Callen is a character who is unlikely to physically appear in the story.

 

[Misfit Angel]

- Content warnings -
[ none! ]

- Content notes -
The contents of this chapter are moderately similar, condensed versions of Chapter 1: The Institute and Chapter 3: The Choice of Land of the Roses 2.0, with quite a few changes and a few conversations/scenes removed.​

Spoiler: Chapter graphic

Black Heart, Bright Soul
Chapter 1: First Impressions​

"We are the thinkers and inventors. We strive. We dream. We aspire always towards something greater than ourselves. In the end, we achieve our dreams of a better tomorrow."​

~ Giordano D'Venii (May 1507, translated)​

​

May 12th
Loch Alstan, Kingdom of Lanark

As the train came to a complete stop and the doors opened, Andrea took a deep breath and stepped out onto the rain-soaked platform. The bitter highland winds instantly snatched her away from her thoughts about her upcoming appointment at the Reiland Institute, and she gasped in shock as her arms instinctively huddled together for warmth; sadly, no amount of rubbing her arms up and down would do the trick. "Holy shit it's cold! Fucking knew I forgot something, my coat!"

She quickly found a map of Loch Alstan that was posted on the terminal wall, but it appeared to be useless to her. Rather than detail the city, it covered every community along the southern lakefront and surrounding countryside, from Nettlefield in the western marshes, to Rosewater Falls in the eastern riverlands and Cobblestone Creek in the southern steppes. Her heart dropped as she focused on the mess of lines, circles, triangles and stars that made up Loch Alstan; the only landmarks on the map were parks, monuments and other tourist attractions. Her destination, the Reiland Institute, wasn't marked at all.

"Ugh... T-This is off-ff to a good s-start..." she lamented, shivering uncontrollably. "Uhh... r-right, it's on Windyreed Avenue, right?" she tried to recall. "Sh-shouldn't be that hard to f-find... Just gotta f-figure out how to get there..."

She quickly retreated to the terminal building. Much to her relief, the inside of the train station was welcomingly warm, so much so that she was tempted to spend the rest of the day there. As tempting as the warmth was, skipping her appointment was out of the question, so she reached into her thigh-high stocking and pulled her phone out to look at a more detailed map. She sighed heavily as she studied it; the Reiland Institute was indeed on Windyreed Avenue, just a few blocks away from the lake the town was named after, but the train station was in the southern foothills of the town. The quickest way between the two locations appeared to be the city's Metro Underground, which had a national reputation for being beyond filthy, filled with sketchy characters and rarely on schedule.

With her appointment hanging over her at just an hour away, she pushed herself back out into the cold to get started on her journey. Not only was it cold, but it was foggy as well; her visibility was reduced to perhaps only 50 meters, obscuring her view of the city. The cemented cobblestones beneath her feet were slick with rain and filthy with mud, cigarette butts and discarded gum, and as she made her way towards the closest main road, she spotted stylized graffiti on nearly every building. In the distance, the wailing of several police sirens drowned out the sound of the wind around her.

"Oh! This city is lovely!" she sarcastically remarked to herself. "Cold, filthy, and high in crime, too? What's next? People doing drugs in broad daylight?"

Much to her relief, the entrance to the Metro Underground's subway tunnels were only a short walk from the train station, and she could feel a warm breeze blowing up the stairs as she headed down.

The Reiland Institute was a lot less glamorous than she'd led herself to believe. In clear contrast with her expectations of a modern architectural masterpiece and the rest of the city's charming Edwardian appearance, the limestone structure was incredibly rudimentary in design. Monolithic, sharply defined amidst the fog, and separated into six distinct floors, there were absolutely no unique features about the building other than it was dreadfully boring to look at. It lacked the artistic columns, fantastic grotesques perched upon the roof and impressive window arches that she had seen on other large buildings throughout the city.

"Looks like a mental asylum..." she mused as she stopped short of the main entrance. Featuring the unmistakable symbol of radioactivity, a bright yellow plaque beside the door indicated that the facility could operate as a nuclear fallout shelter. "Huh. Guess that explains why this place is so boring looking... Must have been built at the height of the Cold War..."

She took a moment to compose her nerves. She wasn't sure why she was so nervous; after all, she'd already cleared the first hurdle of the employment process by having a brief chat with the biology department's Chief of Staff, Patrick Adelaide, and was invited for the chance to prove herself -- an opportunity most people rarely had, it seemed. However, it was her first time meeting her potential employers in person, and first impressions -- whether they were a showcase of her knowledge, social skills, appearance, or the way she applied herself to new situations -- hung heavily on her mind. With a deep breath, she reassured herself that all she could do was work hard to cover any potential shortfalls she had, and with that, she opened the door.

The lobby was far more warm and interesting than the exterior was. The first thing that caught her attention was the large fountain in the center of the lobby, which featured sculptures of four seahorse-like creatures -- which she instantly and subconsciously identified as not just Kingdra, but the endangered and exotic Cape Coral subspecies -- sending jets of misty water into the air. As she wandered up to it for a closer look, she noted that large portions of the fountain's interior were littered with bronze, silver and even the odd golden coin. Accompanying the entrancing flow of the water was the alluring sound of smooth jazz that played throughout the lobby. Both served to calm her nerves further as she reached for her purse.

"Hey, Luck?" she murmured as she pulled a bronze coin out. "You and I have had a very lengthy and glorious relationship, but it seems you've been gone the past few months of my life. I don't know what I did to offend you, but I'd appreciate it if you returned and backed me up just this once. I really need it."

With a flick of her thumb, the coin rocketed into the air. The milled edge of the coin caught the lobby's lighting, glittering brightly as it fell down into the fountain with an unceremonious splash. She watched as the coin slowly fluttered down to the bottom of the polished stone basin; the profile of the recently deceased Queen Telandra rested downward.

She sighed. "Face down. Of course. Welp! Time to crash and burn!"

"Hello!" the receptionist greeted with a bright smile on his face as she approached. "Welcome to the Reiland Institute! How may I help you today?" His manner of speaking was almost robotic, as if he had said the phrase hundreds if not thousands of times before.

"I'm, uhh... I'm here to meet with Patrick Adelaide?" she answered.

The receptionist's face lit up. "Ah! Yes! So you're the new prospect I heard about! Name?"

"Andrea Dennison."

He nodded. "I'll need to see some ID, too."

She dropped her purse onto the desk and dug through it. Her old student ID card from her days at the University of Aughrim slipped out and she handed it over.

The receptionist took the card and studied it. "Hmm. This all you have? Looks like it's long expired."

Her heart dropped; it was the only form of identification she had. "I, uhh... Yeah. The admissions board told me I was going to get a new one for this year, but they never gave it to me. That's all I ever really had... I'm not a Pokémon trainer, I've never gotten around to registering to vote in the elections, and... Yeah..."

"Mmm. Understandable, I guess. College kids rarely have ID these days, it seems." He looked up from the card and studied Andrea's features closely, comparing them to the photo on the card; except for the length of her hair and her weight, every detail in the photo was a perfect match, most notably her eyebrow piercing and her heavy dark makeup. "Well... Expired or not, you do look like who you say you are, and Patrick did inform me you were coming. Good enough for me." He started to furiously hammer away at his keyboard with blazing speed. "I understand you're here to help him out with some contract work? You're quite lucky, they don't really bring in non-trainers for contract work."

She let out an awkward laugh. "Thanks. As if I needed to feel any more nervous."

"Oh, sorry." The receptionist continued to tap away. After a moment, he continued, "Right, here you are! Andrea Dennison, scheduled for a meeting with Patrick at 3:45 PM. Someone's early!" He picked up the phone beside him and input a few numbers. "Hey Patrick. Yeah. Yeah. Your guest is a little early. Want to come down and meet her?" A pause. "Right, yeah! I'll let her know." He hung the phone up, grabbed a lanyard with 'VIP' written on it in gold lettering and handed it across the desk. "Okay, Patrick told me he's gonna come down and meet with you shortly. How about you have a seat until then?"

She slipped the lanyard over her head, adjusted her hair and took a seat in one of the chairs that was scattered throughout the lobby. A sigh followed. "That's another hurdle down... I didn't even think about my expired ID possibly barring me from entry... What else haven't I thought about?"

A few minutes went by before a door behind the receptionist swung open. A man with a burnt orange mop of wavy hair entered the lobby and looked around. His eyes met Andrea's and he approached her, then extended his hand forward. "Andrea Dennison, I presume?"

She stood up and shook his hand. "That's me."

"Yep! That's the voice I remember! Glad to finally meet ya. I'm Patrick Adelaide, Chief of Staff of the biology department, but I figure you've already put two and two together."

She nodded. "My potential future boss."

"Correct. Well, more like potential mid-level supervisor than boss. If you're hired, Dr. Reiland herself will be your boss, but that's just semantics." He rolled up his sleeve and checked the time on his watch. "Hmm. It's a little late for it, but... Have you had lunch yet?"

"Not really... Just some dry biscuits on the train."

"Good! I'll brief you on what we'll be doing in the cafeteria. You'll like it, it's fully stocked and professionally catered."

She shook her head and waggled her hand defensively. "No thanks."

"You sure? I highly recommend it. With the tram service still down, it's a long walk to Rosewater Falls. We might not get there until sunset, and you're going to need your energy."

"Well, it's just that money is pretty tight, and catered --"

He crossed his arms and nodded. "Remember what I told ya when we talked on the phone? We'll take care of you while you're our guest. The meal is on the house."

"Thank you." She reached for her midsection and felt the slightest of hunger pangs.

"Even if you don't grab a bite, I'd like to take you over anyways. We'll have another staff member joining us for our trip to Rosewater, but their shift isn't ending for another half an hour, so we'll be waiting a bit. May as well sit down and have a chat! It's this way, follow me."

He led her back through the door he entered through and into a hallway that seemed to stretch into eternity on both sides. Painted on the wall was a large artistic map that indicated the general layout of the facility, a building that was divided into three sections.

The western half of the building itself was divided into two distinct sections: West Wing South hosted the medical and biochemistry labs, while West Wing North was dedicated to the radiology and genetic research labs, as well as the Pokémon hatchery. The tip of the building was where the shipping and receiving department could be found.

The opposite side of the building was similarly divided. East Wing North was a hub for applied physics, general chemistry and a small manufacturing workshop. Her potential future home was East Wing South, the extensive biological research department. On the map, she spotted several rooms that were labeled with words like 'jungle' and 'volcanic,' piquing her curiosity.

Separate from the main building was the poorly labeled Central Annex. From what she could tell, the only features there were the senior staff offices, HR department offices, a conference room and other staff accommodations.

"The cafeteria is up this way, up a couple floors," he said, leading her past the map. She followed at a moderate distance -- mostly because she wasn't able to match his exceedingly swift walking pace -- and in complete silence as they continued down the hallway towards a stairwell. As they reached the top of the first flight of stairs, he decided to break the silence. "Interesting outfit you've got there. Totally unexpected."

"Umm. Thanks." The fact that his icebreaker was about her clothing raised a red flag in her mind. "What'd you expect?"

"Nothing specific. It's just with that sugary voice I heard on the phone and your age, I was expecting... I dunno, a casual hoodie and jeans? Not someone who looks like she's ready for rave night."

"Heh. Been a long time since I've been to a rave."

"And it's been a while since I've seen a goth girl. You pull it off well!"

"Good... At least he's not going to be a judgemental prick about it..."

When they reached the third floor, Patrick pushed open another door and the two found themselves atop a balcony, out into the cold again. A damp walkway populated by tables and chairs stretched between the main building of the Reiland Institute and the Central Annex. Despite the gloomy weather, several institute staff members were loitering nearby, casually chatting about their ongoing work.

"Oh good! The rain stopped!" he happily said, taking in a deep breath of the fresh, cold air. "...or the snow stopped? It was pretty chilly this morning."

"The rumors of the cold highland air are true..." The exposed skin on her thighs felt the cold first and she started to shiver. "Snow? In May?"

"Welcome to Loch Alstan!"

"This is normal?!"

"Yeah, winter typically lingers into mid-May around here. Hell, some years? Summer never truly arrives. It's the cold mountain air that blows in over the loch from the Kingdom of Glastonfell. Something about the valleys channels the cold air all the way over here, which results in frequent rain and snowstorms, too. It's pretty wild sometimes."

Her hands magnetically latched onto her arms for warmth. "Haven't seen snow in years... Forgot what it's like to live somewhere that's this cold..." she thought.

"I'm curious... You don't have a jacket?"

She sheepishly squealed. "Uhh... I did an idiotic thing and didn't check what the weather here would be like. It was, like, 20°C when I left my apartment in Aughrim."

"Oof, I'm burning up just thinking of temperatures like that! We'll have to find you something, you've got a long and cold walk ahead of you."

He pushed open the double doors on the other end of the walkway and the two entered one of the largest rooms in the Reiland Institute, the employee lounge. The entire room was brightly lit by a massive array of windows that flanked the northwestern and northeastern sides of the room, windows that offered a glimpse of the mirror-like lake which the town of Loch Alstan was named after. Unfortunately, the grim weather obscured an otherwise lovely view that day.

Like most of the building it seemed, the lounge was split into two halves. The first half was the lounge area, itself split into two floors and separated from the cafeteria by a balcony. The area they were in was filled with comfy-looking couches and chairs that circled around tables and television sets. Bookshelves throughout the room were stuffed to the breaking point with all sorts of scientific publications, reference manuals and assorted research materials. A solitary snooker table, host to a game that was already in progress, sat in the middle of the room. An old fashioned jukebox, which Patrick took the time to point out that he had found, restored by himself and donated to the institute, stood in the corner, playing a vinyl jazz record from a long-forgootten era.

In the cafeteria section, about a dozen tables were all filled to capacity by chatting researchers, engineers and medical professionals. An impressive array of professional catering lined the walls, and Andrea was already familiar with all of the companies present: the Mountain Rain Brewing Company, a coffee company which specialized in exotic brews from Atalacia's northwestern mountains; Jackpot's Potato Shack, which boasted over a hundred menu options for the lifeblood of the kingdom's heartland, the russet potato; Shinikara Noodle, an establishment which brought the far east cuisine of Yazhen to Lanark; Gyroskope, with its focus on various specialties from all corners of the Central Sea; lastly was the Crimson Crawdaunt, the Commonwealth's largest and most popular sea food chain.

"Oh boy, you have a Crimson Crawdaunt here?" Andrea asked. "I applied for a waitress position at one of them in Aughrim last month. Got turned down though, even though I already have waitress experience."

"Rough, and they have a reputation for hiring just about anybody..." Patrick replied. He saw the look on her face and immediately tried to dig himself out of the hole he could sense himself slipping into. "That would have been a terrible waste of your achievements anyways, based on what I saw in your application."

"I guess. But I have to pay the bills somehow."

"Of course." He rolled up his sleeve again to look at his watch. He pulled a chair from under the table next to him, then loudly slammed his palm up and down on the table. "Have a seat! I'm gonna grab some coffee. You want me to get anything for you?"

"Umm... If they've got the big potato waffles at that Jackpot... That'd be pretty nice. And make it a double? I didn't have breakfast."

"You're not gonna be a cheap date for me, eh?" he nodded with a smirk. "Pretty sure they've got 'em! Be right back!"

She took her seat at the table and waited patiently for Patrick to return. As she did so, she took the time to study the researchers situated about the lounge. The atmosphere was no doubt warm and genial, but it also intimidated her; she never viewed herself as a social butterfly, and the boundless energy and limitless intelligence in the room was already draining; brilliant minds who were already no doubt established in their fields surrounded her, and she had the monumental task of attempting to fit into that crowd -- if she even got hired.

Still, hearing bits and pieces of conversation related to the researchers' personal lives or their latest projects reminded her of her university days. With the exception of Webster, it had been months since she'd spoken to any of her own friends, and she quickly realized how much she missed hearing about the boring and drab details of their lives, or sharing stories about her own experiences.

"I made a terrible mistake by withdrawing from everyone... probably made my recovery longer than it had to be... but it felt like the right move at the time..."

A few minutes later, Patrick returned with a fragile Jenga-like tower of food and drinks; at the bottom was a tray that had Andrea's plate-sized potato waffles, flanked by two tall cups of coffee. The second tray, balanced atop the cups of coffee, was covered in spicy noodles mixed with pork and drowned in sour sauce -- also flanked by two more cups of coffee. The final tray at the top had two massive wedges of pizza and a pyramid-like stack of mozzarella sticks.

"Wow," she bluntly bleated as he carefully rested the bottom tray on the table.

"Getting these back up the stairs without dropping anything was more difficult than I thought it would be," he said as he separated out the trays and slid Andrea's across the table towards her. "Lucky for me, I also have restaurant experience, even if it is a decade old."

"If I knew you were going to get that much, I'd have come along to help!"

"I didn't think I would, but then our third wheel texted me and said to get them some pizza for the road. Figured at that point I may as well get something for myself, too!" He slid the tray with the pizza on it over to an empty spot on the table, then stirred his porky rice around with a bamboo fork. "Anyways, it'll be a bit before we leave, so... How about we talk about things? This isn't really an interview, so don't stress out too much about your answers. I just want to get to know you a little bit."

"Okay. Umm. Fair word of warning, I'm not really a talker, so... Yeah..."

He smiled. "I gathered that on the way here. Still! I'm known for coaxing discussions out of even the most stubborn antisocial folks. It'll be fun to put those skills to the test again. So! I'm sure you've gotten this question before but you're only... 20, was it?"

"Yes."

"That's pretty young to have a university degree! That caught the eyes of both myself and Dr. Reiland. I'm curious, what's up with that? Did you get an early start on school or something?"

She took a cautious bite of her potato waffle before shaking her head. "Not really, I just got bumped up a few times. When I started year five, I was pretty far ahead of the other students, so they bumped me up to year six. I guess the same happened with year ten, because they pushed me up to eleven. So I was finished with high school two years early, and then I was approached by the University of Aughrim about a scholarship."

"Nice! What was the scholarship for? Were you exceptional at something like math or music?"

Another bite, another head shake. "No. It was stupid, they offered me a softball scholarship of all things."

He tilted his head slightly to the left and raised his eyebrow. "Softball? You mean like, baseball?"

"Yeah, pretty much. Only the pitches are easier to hit. Apparently I displayed 'exceptional skill' on my high school team, which probably wasn't hard to do, since I'm basically the only one in the country that'd ever played it before."

"Huh. Yeah, I didn't know it was a thing in this country."

She shrugged. "It's really not, but people are trying to make it a thing. It's really popular where I was born, though."

He tilted his head. "I was curious about your accent. I've been all over the country and to Glastonfell and Constantia, and I don't think I've ever heard anything like it before."

"You must have! Surely you've heard the Storm Islands accent before? Eh, well... I always figured I'd lost most of my accent by now.... I came to Lanark when I was pretty young."

"Wow! You're a long way from home!"

"Tell me about it... Wish I could go back, the weather is much better than what you have here."

"So, a scholarship for a sport that isn't even popular in this country. That's kinda cruel, because... women's sports aren't exactly... Well, you know."

She smiled. "Right? I saw that a career in a sport that nobody played, in a league that nobody cares about wasn't going to get me anywhere, so I didn't really try. They took my scholarship away, of course... Dad wasn't happy about that, heh." She motioned around the room. "Besides, I was more interested in... this. Being some sort of researcher has been my dream since I was a little girl."

"Well! You're getting pretty close to that dream!"

"Mmm." She raised the cup of coffee to her mouth, and just a single, bitter sip was enough to send a shiver radiating throughout her entire body, something that Patrick found amusing. "Blech. I should have said I don't like coffee."

"I can get you something else if you want."

She shook her head. She didn't like it, but it was already in front of her, and she felt bad enough about being looked after. "Softball wasn't a total waste of my time, though. I did pick up some pretty sick curveball skills through it. I saved my peers a lot of trouble during my studies."

"Hey, yeah! I was thinking about that. That's a pretty decent skill to have as a Pokémon researcher. Lot of our staff... kinda can't aim a Pokéball throw to save their lives."

"That's one plus for me..." she thought.

"So, about that -- and about your clothes, I guess!" he started, his eyes drifting towards the obvious web-like design that poorly attempted to cover her exposed cleavage. "The dress, the earrings, that flashy ring on your finger... I take it you're into spider Pokémon."

"Not especially, but they're kinda cool and spooky?" She shrugged. "If you're looking for someone who's genuinely into spiders, you'll have to talk to my roommate, Webster. That guy keeps them as pets. He's got an Ariados, a Marrowmite and a Bonelurk, and used to have a Joltik."

"Pets!? Oof, I don't know if I could do that myself. Having those things climbing all over the walls, especially late at night... That would give me some serious shivers."

She smiled. "Yeah. It was pretty unsettling when I first moved in with him. But I got used to it pretty quickly." Her hand disappeared under the edge of the table and scrounged around, earning a confused look from him. She reached into her right stocking and pulled out Widow's Pokéball, placing it on the table. "I brought one of them along -- his Ariados -- just in case I needed it. I hope you're not arachnophobic."

"That's fine by me. I'm pretty sure our third wheel isn't either, but we'll have to ask before you bring it out." he grabbed the Pokéball and ran it through his fingers. "So, this one's not yours. Got any of your own?"

She shook her head. "No. I can't really afford to keep any. My roommate can't either, but... He doesn't want to hear that, heh."

"Then I take it you don't have much actual experience with Pokémon?"

"No, I've got quite a bit, actually! I've handled plenty during my time at university... But training and raising them? Not so much, unless my dad's service Growlithe counts?"

He nodded. "It may come as a surprise, but a lot of our staff are in that same boat. I'd say maybe just shy of a quarter of them are actual owners."

"Well that's good... I was worried that'd be held against me," she thought. "That is a little surprising, actually. I figured most people who work professionally with Pokémon, you know, owned or trained them."

"I thought the same when I first started my career, too. 'Course, it helps a lot when you can rely on your own Pokémon that you've spent a lot of time bonding with. I'm sure you're aware... well, lab rats aren't all that reliable. They're even dangerous sometimes."

"Yeah..." She leaned over the table and pushed her hair out of the way, pointing to a mark just below her hairline above her eyebrow piercing. "See that scar? I got bonked on the head by a baby Cubone about three years ago. They said I needed, like, seventeen stitches?"

"Ouch! Okay, so you are aware of the danger, then."

"Yep..."

"I'm curious! If you could have any --" he started, before his attention drifted towards the door behind her. "Oh, hold on! There she is!" He waved towards the door as if he were beckoning someone over.

That someone was a young woman with an intricate braid of strawberry blonde hair that wrapped around her head like a crown of flowers, approaching the table with a smile on her face. Green tribal henna tattoos that resembled geometric feathers extended from her hairline down to her neck on the left side of her face.

"Phew, Dr. Venger almost didn't let me go. So much shit to catch up on... New intern's useless as fuck. Spends all day talking." The woman dropped her backpack on the table with a loud thud.

"Oh! You saved me a trip to the supply room?" he asked.

The woman nodded. "Think I got everything... I expect compensation, it was so difficult!" She glanced in Andrea's direction. "Woah! Spider queen! Amazing threads!"

She lowered her cup of coffee. "Oh. Thanks."

"Emily, this is our help for the next couple of days. Dr. Reiland is thinking of hiring her, but wants me to see how she works out. Andrea Dennison is her name."

Excitement washed over Emily's face. "Ah, so you're the one I've heard about! Pleasure to meet you, Andrea."

"Andrea, this is Emily Winehaus, one of our medical staff. She'll be joining us for our trip to Rosewater. Or rather, we'll be joining her!"

Emily grabbed the chair from the side of the table and pushed it in Patrick's direction, taking a seat uncomfortably close to him, then slid the undisturbed tray of pizza towards herself. "Have you told her what we're doing out there?"

"I was getting to that! I figured I'd wait until you arrived so you could correct all my mistakes," he said.

Emily snickered, then reached into the backpack and pulled out a folder full of papers, documents and miscellaneous notes. She grabbed one and handed it over to Andrea. "It's pretty simple stuff. With spring finally arriving in the highlands, migratory birds are starting their seasonal travels around this part of the kingdom. We'll be heading to the Heron Hook wetlands just outside of Rosewater Falls and partnering up with the Wild Wings Waterfowl Refuge for their tag and release program. You two will be identifying the birds that are out there, while I'll be investigating the propagation of pathogens and diseases to see if there's anything alarming out there. Supposedly they've already identified a few cases of Asperian influenza out there."

Patrick's eyebrow shot up. "Have they? I'd only heard about the one case -- and that turned out to be a false positive, didn't it?"

"That one did, but there's definitely a few confirmed, now."

"Asperian flu? Should I be worried?" Andrea asked as she studied the paper in front of her.

Emily dismissed her concerns with a wave of her hand. "Nah. Unless you get into a bloody brawl with an infected bird out there, you should be good. Besides, there's no indication that this particular strain has jumped the species barrier."

"Lucky me could end up being patient zero..." She shrugged. "Sounds... simple enough, kinda? I'm not really a bird nerd, so I don't know how useful I'll be."

Patrick nodded. "Yeah... It's not the best test of your skills, but it's something. We've actually been having a downtrend in contract work, so... This is what we've got this week. Better than what we had when I first contacted you, which involved digging for worms out in the Bramblemurk. Emi here had fun on that one."

"Ugh, god!" Emily energetically interjected. "Don't remind me! I'm never doing that again! I'm still trying to get the dirt stains out of my jeans..."

Andrea tried to contain a giggle. "Cataloguing birds or digging for worms, I'll be happy to help how I can."

"Trust me, girl, you do not want to be digging around out there. The Bramblemurk is a peat bog. It smells so bad!"

"I thought it smelled fine. A little strong, but fine," Patrick said.

"Yeah, well, you're a weirdo."

He snickered. "Do you know anything about avian migration patterns, Andrea?"

"Not a lot... The biggest thing that comes to mind is that Talonflame migrates up from Kalos during the summers and causes all sorts of problems and wildfires in the Heartlands and along the Cladachfadh. I also did some bird watching north of the Arctic Circle last summer and took some notes, but I don't know any migration patterns for what I saw up there."

He nodded. "Arctic birds, eh? Maybe you'll see a few familiar species while we're out there, then."

"I am pretty curious to see what's out there! I guess if my knowledge falls short, I can at least try to capture things for you guys. I assume that'll be part of the tag and release program?"

"Yep. Time to put those old softball skills of yours to the test."

"Softball?" Emily asked. "You mean like, baseball?"

Patrick laughed, then tapped the palm of his hand on Emily's backpack. "Got all of the supplies we need, Emi?"

"Think so, but I might have forgotten a thing or two. Let's stop by the stockroom before we leave, just in case?"

"Would you happen to have a spare coat in that stockroom?" Andrea chimed in.

Patrick's face lit up. "Oh, yeah. She didn't account for the cold weather, so she left her jacket at home. We've gotta figure something out for her."

Emily playfully smacked Patrick's shoulder with the back of her hand. "Hey, I've got an idea. Why don't we stop by my apartment before we leave, I've still got that extra jacket you got me for my birthday a couple years ago. She can borrow it."

"Good idea. Ready to get started?"

Both girls nodded.

Update notes: June 3, 2023:

• Various tweaks to grammar

 

[System Error]

All right! Not really in the state of mind to be reading right now, but screw it! Let's go! Also sorry if the comments are a bit scattershot and goofy, was reading on phone and didn't want to keep switching back and forth between my notepad app and the browser.

P
- Yo is that a master ball in Kim's hand in the art? Purple ball.
- Dat pentagram tho
- Chief of Staff isn't really a long title. I assume he is trying to be funny.
- He seems more casual than professional.
- I get the mental image of her either blowing up the tool shed, or just using baking soda and vinegar.
- Expelled, huh? Wonder what she did
- Black fingernails? Girl you need to scrub. Chemists gotta stay sanitized.
- Well black is a common business color
- Shoutouts to...you?
- A bit odd to call him a pudgy young man, and then just a man. Those two give very different impressions of age
- I AM ANDREA DENNISON. A GOTHIC SPIDER VAMPIRE GIRL WITH AN INTEREST IN CHEMISTRY. THIS IS WHO I AM!
- Oh because she couldn't handle the pressure? That seems...really excessive. This kingdom's universities are screwed up.
- For someone who's into chemistry she seems to have an even bigger interest in fashion. Every outfit has a name
- Marrowmite, eh? Sounds like a skeletal bug.
- Oo Ariados. Don't often see those in fics.
- For some reason at the end I started hearing Webster's voice as a stereotypically flamboyant one, even tho that doesn't really fit. Probably more logically, someone slightly dopey.
- And off she goes.

C1
- Heh, welp. How in the world do you forget your coat of all things though?
- The cold stammering seems a bit random in regards to which words are stammered.
- Noticed a couple close repeated words in this spot, like cold and tempt.
- The Cold War mentioned, huh? Neat. BUT WHOSE SIDE WERE THEY ON?
- At first I thought she was talking to a lucky coin. Given the capifalization, thought it was a coin named Luck.
- In this chapter she dropped out of uni. In the previous she was expelled. Which is it? Or third option, she's just lying to the receptionist.
- Oh no middle management
- So there's that convo I was expecting off of trainers of fanfiction
- Well that explains the lack of jacket. Wildly fluctuating temperatures can't be accounted for.
- Her recovery hm? Interesting bit.
- They have Jenga here?
- Shoutouts to Storm Island! Still have some of that saved from reading it offline, strangely.
- Poke Ball aiming skills coming up is pretty rare in a fic.
- Ah, so they're skeletal spiders from the sounds of it. Used to have a Joltik though? Another thread I suppose.
- Going with the PUNY HUMANS approach to Pokemon I see.
- Oof, researching birds, and she has a bug.
- Birds going north for the summer?
- Thought that was going to be Kim at first, but guess she comes later.

Starting off and heading along! Good start to the fic. I admit, a lot of the details about things I glossed over due to said state of mind (and state of eyes) and will probably have to refresh myself on later. But it was a beginning all right. Or something like that. Did a good job of introducing us to Andrea, while raising enough questions for later. Looking forward to what's next.

 

[Misfit Angel]

- Yo is that a master ball in Kim's hand in the art? Purple ball.

Yes, yes it is.

- Dat pentagram tho

More work went into it than I'd like to admit, I'm glad someone likes it!

- Chief of Staff isn't really a long title. I assume he is trying to be funny.

- He seems more casual than professional.

"Unprofessional clown" seems to sum up more people than you'd expect in so-called professional work environments, I've learned.

- I get the mental image of her either blowing up the tool shed, or just using baking soda and vinegar.

Let's just say that her parents were not happy.

- Black fingernails? Girl you need to scrub. Chemists gotta stay sanitized.

Let me introduce you to the modern wonder that is nail polish

- Well black is a common business color

While true, I think that's mostly on suits/men's business fashion. I don't often see women in politics/media/business wearing black unless they're making a statement of some sort.

- Shoutouts to...you?

It's weird, I came up with the fashion line years before I adopted it as my username. Now whenever I use it, I look like I'm patting myself on the back >_>

- A bit odd to call him a pudgy young man, and then just a man. Those two give very different impressions of age

I could add an age descriptor there, but I figure people get the picture already.

- I AM ANDREA DENNISON. A GOTHIC SPIDER VAMPIRE GIRL WITH AN INTEREST IN CHEMISTRY. THIS IS WHO I AM!

Loud and proud, baby

- Oh because she couldn't handle the pressure? That seems...really excessive. This kingdom's universities are screwed up.

Well, when you disappear for a month, get bad grades upon your return and in general seem to not be performing well anymore, maybe it's a mercy to tell someone to give up. Save them some money.

- For someone who's into chemistry she seems to have an even bigger interest in fashion. Every outfit has a name

Welcome to the world of fashion. In my own favorite IRL brands, even solid color T-shirts with no graphics on them have names these days.

- Marrowmite, eh? Sounds like a skeletal bug.

Ding ding!

- Oo Ariados. Don't often see those in fics.

Yep! Excited to work with her, though she won't be around long since she's just borrowed.

- For some reason at the end I started hearing Webster's voice as a stereotypically flamboyant one, even tho that doesn't really fit. Probably more logically, someone slightly dopey.

I haven't really thought of his voice, but yeah, dopey sounds like it'd be a good fit.

- Heh, welp. How in the world do you forget your coat of all things though?

"I might be intelligent, but I'm certainly not wise." ~ Andrea Dennison, from a different story

- The cold stammering seems a bit random in regards to which words are stammered.

Hmm, not sure how to go about this. I wanted to emphasize she was freezing and not just "I'm st-tut-tering on t-ts" cold.

- Noticed a couple close repeated words in this spot, like cold and tempt.

Ehh, I'm not too bothered. For how often I used it, there's only so many ways I can replace cold without it being obvious I've pulled out a thesaurus.

- The Cold War mentioned, huh? Neat. BUT WHOSE SIDE WERE THEY ON?

The good guys, of course :V

- At first I thought she was talking to a lucky coin. Given the capifalization, thought it was a coin named Luck.

Hmm. I was aiming more for Lady Luck, but perhaps this is something I can change.

- In this chapter she dropped out of uni. In the previous she was expelled. Which is it? Or third option, she's just lying to the receptionist.

Third, yes.

- Her recovery hm? Interesting bit.

So excited to dive back into that, and hoprefully get somewhere with it this time.

- They have Jenga here?

Jenga is eternal. Jenga is immortal. Jenga is inescapable.

- Ah, so they're skeletal spiders from the sounds of it. Used to have a Joltik though? Another thread I suppose.

A spider thread you might say (☞ﾟ∀ﾟ)☞

- Going with the PUNY HUMANS approach to Pokemon I see.

Yes, and it's something I hope I stick with. Nobody's going to take a flamethrower or a thunderbolt to the face and be fine a minute later.

- Oof, researching birds, and she has a bug.

oshit I didn't think of this

- Birds going north for the summer?

Is that not what they normally do? In the dark and evil depths of upstate New York, I see geese flying south for the winter, and back up into Canada for the summer. That's all I've ever really thought about it, and I admit I didn't really do my research on this.

Starting off and heading along! Good start to the fic. I admit, a lot of the details about things I glossed over due to said state of mind (and state of eyes) and will probably have to refresh myself on later. But it was a beginning all right. Or something like that. Did a good job of introducing us to Andrea, while raising enough questions for later. Looking forward to what's next.

 

[Misfit Angel]

- Content warnings -
[ minor sexually suggestive content and innuendos ]

- Content notes -
The contents of this chapter are largely similar to Chapter 4: Remember, A Rose Has Thorns of Land of the Roses 2.0. The largest notable change is the addition of Andrea's Ariados into the mix.​

Spoiler: Chapter graphic

Black Heart, Bright Soul
Chapter 2: Remember, A Rose Has Thorns​

"There isn't a land in the world more beautiful than ours, child. But every rose has its thorns, and this one grows pricklier by the day..."​

~ Stephanie Greybell III, Queen of the Grand Empire of Lanark (July 31st, 1920)​

​

Barely fifteen minutes had passed since they left the alluring warmth of the research center, and the chilling cold had already begun to get the better of Andrea. Though she'd been promised a spare jacket, thoughts clawed in the darkened depths of her mind: "Just call it quits and go home already! If you weren't prepared for this, you're not prepared for the rigorous work ahead of you!" But she refused to give up; she'd been raised to give everything she had when it came to showing off her capabilities, and quitting so soon -- regardless of a lack of a jacket -- would have reflected poorly on her. However, her burning desire to prove herself was only in her head and did nothing to warm her. She shivered uncontrollably as she huddled her arms together.

"We'll be there soon, don't worry," Emily commented. "That dress is pretty snazzy, but I'd hate to wear it in this weather. It looks so thin! Not to mention that spider web over your chest."

"Yeah, not my b-best idea," she replied.

Apart from those five words, she was more or less silent for much of the journey to Emily's apartment in the city's marina district. Just as she did when she first met Patrick, she kept a small distance from the pair. She felt out of place; listening to them chat back and forth gave her the sense that the two were old friends, and probably even more. The giggling, the playful physical contact, the candid details in their conversations -- as if a stranger weren't even there, listening to them -- confirmed the idea in her head: Patrick and Emily were dating, a thought which made her quite uncomfortable. The worst thing was that she was stuck between them for at least a couple days, and possibly longer.

"Ha. Can't even land a real date yourself anymore... and somehow you end up as a third wheel? Your life is a mess, girl," she told herself.

"So what about you, Andrea?" Emily asked, slowing down to walk beside her. "You're awfully quiet back here. Any interesting stories to tell?"

She looked up from the stones of the walkway. "Oh. Uh... No, n-not really."

"Really? Nothing at all?"

"Nothing i-interesting. Most of m-my time was spent s-studying or working. Nothing I say would b-be interesting to anybody. Or at l-least not-t people l-like us."

Patrick laughed. "You're among your own kind here, of course university stories would be interesting!"

"Good point, b-but... I can't really f-f-focus. So c-cold..."

As they strolled through the marina, the weather slowly improved. The fog lifted rapidly, allowing the bright afternoon sunlight to flood in and warm the area considerably -- not enough to comfort Andrea, but enough to keep her from shivering uncontrollably. She thought about how poorly her first impressions were going: she'd already shown how easily she made simple mistakes by not dressing for the weather. She worried problems with her teamwork skills were already showing themselves, with how she kept a distance from everyone and how she didn't think to help Patrick set down their food and drinks safely back in the cafeteria. She'd also told herself to be more outgoing and social, but she was already blowing that. She didn't want to change her personality, but she realized that Patrick was watching her closely, and vowed to be more chatty when she could. Her first opportunity presented itself when they finally arrived at Emily's apartment; Emily broke from the group with a promise to return shortly, leaving her and Patrick behind.

"Hey, I'm sorry... if I'm being... you know, r-rude."

Patrick raised his eyebrow and tilted his head. "It seems you and I have different definitions of rude."

"Maybe we d-do. I always knew that I picked up s-some bad habits since I started m-my university studies... This must b-be another one of them."

"What do you mean by that?"

She leaned up against the rough brick surface of the building. "A couple years ag-go, a childhood friend and I grew closer. That must have ch-changed his expectations of me, because b-being my usual quiet self was n-no longer sufficient. He gave me such a hard t-time about it that I've been second g-guessing myself every time I try to t-talk to anyone..."

"Sorry if I'm being judgmental of someone you care about, but that guy sounds like an asshole to me."

She exhaled sharply out of her nose with the slightest of smirks. "No, no. He deserves th-that judgment... Asshole is too t-tame a word to describe him, honestly." She kicked at the ground in frustration over her bad memories. "I guess I haven't b-been the s-s-same since. I love being q-quiet, but it feels like I'll get nowhere in life if I stay th-that way. It tears me apart s-sometimes."

"Some people are just closed books, there's nothing wrong with that! I'd like to pry you open and really get to know you, but... Don't worry about it today. If you're not comfortable talking, that's cool. Hopefully tomorrow is a little better. Or the next day. Or maybe never, who knows?"

"We'll see... I th-think it'd be a l-little unfair to describe myself-f as comp-p-pletely asocial..." She looked up at him and offered the faintest laugh as she thought, "Wow, what a choice of words... Pry me open? Yeah, I bet you'd like that..."

The door beside her opened and out came Emily. In her hands was a neatly folded tartan jacket, primarily red in color, accented with deep green stripes and dashed with glittery silver threads. Rough wool lined the collar and the inside of the jacket to keep the wearer toasty and warm even on the coldest highlands day.

"It's definitely not your style, but it'll keep you warm!" Emily said as she offered the jacket over. "You're on your own for your legs though, but those stockings do look pretty cozy..."

She grabbed the jacket and rushed it on. It was indeed warm, and she couldn't thank her new acquaintance enough. "It's a little tight, but... thank you. I'm not used to people doing me favors. Most city folk over in Aughrim are assholes."

Emily nodded and smiled. "Hey, if you get the position, you can look forward to more of it from me!" She reached into her own jacket and pulled out her phone. "Right, anything else we should do quickly before we skip town? At this rate, we're probably going to be fighting against sunset before we get to Rosewater, and that'll be bad news for our underdressed friend."

"I'm ready," Andrea said.

"Me too," Patrick added.

May 12th
South Alstan Moor, Kingdom of Lanark

"Ahhh! It's nice to get out and stretch my legs for once!" Emily said, twirling down the cobblestone path. "I kinda regret going into medical, I'm stuck at a desk all day! But I'm so deeply in debt that I have to stick with it..."

"And what would you be doing if you weren't studying medicine?" Patrick asked.

"I don't know. Park ranger? Education? Dance instructor?"

He bellowed with laughter. "You? C'mon, I've seen you dance! Or at least try to."

"Of course I can't dance! I spent the last seven and a half years studying! But if I were actually trying to become a dance instructor..." Emily spun on the spot to look at Andrea, maintaining her walking pace as she moved backward. "How about you, Andrea? Can you dance?"

"According to her application, she worked at a place called The Lair," he interjected. "I'm betting she definitely can."

Andrea laughed nervously. "Let's not."

"The Lair?" Emily asked.

"Let's not," she repeated sternly, weighing her words down with a hint of aggravation in her voice. "I liked working there, but I'm not about to talk about it. If I'm going to get a career in the sciences started, I want to be taken seriously. I don't think I ever will if you start telling everyone I worked at a place like that."

Patrick sheepishly tugged on the collar of his jacket. "Ah, sorry for striking a nerve."

"Wait, what's The Lair? I'm geniunely confused," Emily said with curiosity in her voice.

"Don't worry about it," Patrick offered. "I figured since you put it on your application, you were fine with talking about it."

"I kinda regret it, but my roommate insisted I put it down. Any experience is good experience, or something like that," she responded. "Short explanation, it's a themed restaurant. Long explanation? Maybe someday. To answer your question, though, yes, I can... thrash about on a rave floor. Knock people the fuck out in mosh pits. That stuff counts as dancing, right?"

"Hell yeah, that counts as far as I'm concerned!" Emily answered.

As they rounded a bend on Shady Oak Lane, the cobblestone pathway thinned and eventually faded into muddy gravel. With the skyline of Loch Alstan disappearing behind the trees, they had officially entered the wilds of Lanark. Despite the advancements in technology and human society, and the rapid sprawling development of the country's urban centers since the dawn of the industrial revolution, the wilderness here looked as if it hadn't been touched by human hands for centuries. Aside from the winding and partially overgrown path that snaked its way through the hills and an old railway bridge visible far away in the cliffs, nature was at its most pristine, unhindered state. To the southeast, they could see the Talthsar Mountains, still capped with the winter's snow; down an embankment to the north were the placid waters of Loch Alstan.

"You're in for a hell of a show, Andrea. This is one of the best areas in the kingdom for countryside views: untouched wilderness as far as the eye can see."

"Umm..." she said, running her finger along the ramshackle, decaying fence beside her. "You sure about that?"

He conceded to her point with a nod. "Okay, mostly untouched. Most of the Northcountry is like this and hasn't seen development since the mid-20th century, outside of agricultural pop ups. Bet you don't get vistas like this over in Aughrim!" he proudly proclaimed.

"No, we don't... I could get used to this," she said as she studied the graceful shape of the mountains.

"Before we go any further..." Patrick said, reaching into his pocket. His hand returned, fingers wrapped around a standard red and white Pokéball. With a gentle toss forward, the ball burst open with a shower of leaves that smoldered away into ash, revealing a rabbit-like creature that measured up to just below her knees.

The creature was covered primarily in short, orange fur, with accents of yellow along its underside and long stripes of red along its back. A pair of large and rigid leaf-like ears grew from a single point on its forehead, and similar, smaller grassy appendages grew from its cheeks. Its tail resembled a snipped stem, and a thin stream of smoke billowed from the tip.

She gasped at the sight of the creature. "A Hopañero? It's so cute!"

"He's more than cute. This little guy's gotten me out of a fair share of bad situations."

"And into half of them..." Emily quietly commented.

"Hey, you don't need to worry! I'll keep us safe, you have my word," he assured the girls. "I may not be the most capable trainer in the world, but ol' Pepper here can usually take care of himself."

"Usually?" Andrea asked.

"Against the wild stuff, yeah. Against a dedicated and skilled trainer? Well, I've gotten lucky before..."

"Think we'll run into a trainer out here?"

He looked to the cloudy sky and took a deep breath of the chilly air. "Probably. But if we do, I can always just tell 'em to piss off. Trainers' code is to leave people alone if they decline a battle invitation, and most people stick to that."

Eventually, the road they were following came to an abrupt end, capped off at a sea of tall grass that fluttered in the chilly wind.

"Now comes the part that separates the boys from the men, the true test for those who travel the roads of the Northcountry," he said as he looked up and down the long wall of grass in front of him. His search for a way around the grass was met with failure.

"Well come on then, you big puss-puss!" Emily ordered as she fearlessly pushed forward into the grass.

"I was just looking for the trail... It seems to have faded over the winter," he said softly. He turned around and called out to Andrea, who had cautiously stopped at the edge of the grass. "Hey! I hope that dress of yours isn't too delicate! The grass around here can get a little sharp sometimes!"

Andrea studied the grass with a grimace on her face. The softly serrated grass reached up to her chest and was so overgrown that she couldn't see the ground underneath it. "You sure we're going the right way? The trails up by Glastonfell's northern shores were never this bad!"

"You think this is bad? You should see the road on the far end of Nettlefield, at the edge of the Bramblemurk!"

"I don't think you could even call that a road. It felt like we were walking into uncharted wilderness most of the time," Emily chimed in.

She muttered quietly to herself as she took her first steps into the grass. "I hope there aren't any of those big squirmy bugs in here... I hate bugs!"

Patrick couldn't help but laugh. "Says the lady who lives in a house full of giant spiders!"

"Spiders aren't bugs, they're arachnids."

It wasn't as bad as she first imagined; while she could feel the serrated edges of the grass snagging against the delicate fabric of her dress, it wasn't as sharp as Patrick had warned. Even more, the grass wasn't as cold to the touch as she expected, nor wet, despite the gloomy weather. More importantly, there wasn't a giant wiggling bug in sight, but that meant little considering she couldn't see more than a few inches ahead of her at any given moment; they could have been hiding, ready to leap out at her.

Before she knew it, however, she'd emerged from the other side of the patch of grass without incident. "What have I gotten myself into... Patrick mentioned the tram service being down?" she thought. "When you said the tram service was down and that we'd be walking, you didn't really explain what you meant by that. What happened?"

"Landslide. Took out the tracks about halfway between Loch Alstan and Rosewater a couple weeks ago," he answered.

"It's taking them this long to unbury the tracks?"

"Oh, no! The tracks aren't buried. They're gone! The land gave way and carried them down into the loch."

"Jeeze! No one got hurt, I hope!"

"And to save you the trouble of asking, Dr. Reiland already looked into catching a ride on the ferry service. It wasn't happening. A lot of people in Rosewater Falls commute to Loch Alstan for work, and now they're taking the ferries back and forth... getting just one ticket to ride the ferry service is tricky -- and expensive now. Three is impossible. So, walking is our only option."

"It's a little colder than I'd like, but... It's nice getting some exercise for a change. I just hope I can survive the whole walk..."

A couple of hours had passed and the terrain around them shifted. They no longer found themselves in the sparsely wooded aspen meadows that bordered the town of Loch Alstan; the road they followed had taken them up into the stoney hills until they eventually reached a grassy plateau. Cliffs flanked them on both sides: to the south, moderately tall hexagonal columns of blackened stone shaded them from the sun, while the north was a sheer drop into an overgrown ravine. From their vantage point, they could still see the placid waves of Loch Alstan, and with the thinning fog, they could faintly see the distant shores on the other side -- the neighboring Kingdom of Glastonfell. Even further beyond were the sentry-like Dornoch Mountains, the supposed source of the cold air that had caught Andrea off guard.

Conversation between Patrick and Emily had continued at a steady pace; as usual, Andrea was quiet and lingered behind, something that the two were clearly disheartened by. Patrick's attempts at prodding her for info about her social life while at university failed, so he decided to talk about his own. His attempt at breaking the ice involved anecdotes about his own rebellious phase.

"You?" Andrea questioned. "But you seem so sewn up and straight!"

"You'd better believe it! I was a wild kid when I was your age," he answered with a smile. "Long hair, leather jackets, death metal concerts and more time spent raving than studying. Drugs, alcohol, women, fights..."

She laughed. "Okay, now it's starting to sound a little embellished."

"Most of that is true," Emily added. "It was a lot of work setting this guy straight when I met him. Taming a Tauros likely would have been easier!"

"I've come a long way, haven't I?"

"Mhmm! I'm proud!"

"Yeah, that answers that. Definitely a couple..." Andrea thought.

"Ehh. I needed to get serious if I was ever going to climb out of that hole." He turned to look back at Andrea. "Not that you have to look like a boring old dude like me to be taken seriously, I should clarify."

Details about his past had grappled with her curiosity, and had finally drawn her out of her social anxiety. "Do you still listen to any of that stuff? Go to raves?"

He shook his head. "Nah, no more raves for me. I'm ancient by the rave scene standards -- not 'cool enough' anymore, and I get cranky if I'm out past my bedtime. I do still listen sometimes, though."

"Aww, that's a shame... If I do get this job, it would have been nice to find someone who knows all the good spots in town. Maybe even a rave buddy."

"Heh, I could dust off the ol' Disco Inferno jacket, see if I've still got what it takes... But, there's a guy down in our biochemistry department, huuuuuuge cyberpunk nerd. I could introduce you somet --"

Their conversation ended abruptly with a high pitched bellowing sound that carried across the countryside. It didn't take long for either of the three to pinpoint the source of the noise: atop a rocky outcropping sat a stubby, black and grey elephant-like creature. Most of its body was a uniform, scaly grey, but a thick set of black armored plates ran from the tip of its extensive trunk across its back, ending just short of its small tail. Deadly-looking curved tusks, one of which was broken at the tip, jutted from its mouth, and a clear look of agitation shined in its narrowed eyes.

Patrick held his arms out to slow the two girls down. "Donphan... Careful, those things are downright nasty. But it's alone -- it's more scared of us than we are of it."

"Uhh..." Emily murmured. "Does the Donphan know this?"

"Shh!" Andrea ordered, then whispered. "I've read about these things... We have to move slowly and maintain eye contact, right? Show it we're not a threat?"

"Yeah... We have to let it know that we know that it's there," he added. "They're creatures of opportunity. They only strike when they know they have the upper hand."

"What if that doesn't work? We're probably in its territory, and we should have a plan --"

In that instance, the tried and true method of maintaining eye contact didn't work. The Donphan pounded its padded foot into the ground like a bovine bull and roared loudly, a universally understood signal among Donphan experts that it was enraged and unwilling to back down. The attack was swift! It hopped into the air and curled up to protect itself with its dense armor plating, then closed the distance between it and the group surprisingly quickly.

"Look out!" Patrick shouted as he pulled Andrea off of the path, taking care to place himself in between her and the Donphan just in case.

Emily tumbled to the ground as she narrowly avoided being steamrolled; the Donphan roared past her and slammed into a massive 25 meter tall fir tree at the side of the path. The trunk of the tree shattered from the force of the impact, sending wooden shrapnel raining down over a wide area, and the rest of it toppling down with a rattling thud. As she picked herself up off of the ground and dusted herself off, she worriedly called out, "Umm! You sure Pepper can handle something like this?"

"Find somewhere to hide, you two!" Patrick ordered. "Pepper! Park yourself between us and that tree! We need to overwhelm this thing quickly, before someone gets hurt!"

Pepper hesitated for a moment before rushing off towards the fallen tree. After a few moments of silence, he cautiously hopped up to the branches of the fallen tree and searched the area in an attempt to locate the Donphan, but it was difficult; the mess of battered branches and thick needles obscured his vision. The search yielded nothing; no movement, no sound, nothing out of place -- almost as if the Donphan had simply vanished.

"Hope that thing didn't get crushed to death by the tree..." Patrick said before taking a few cautious steps towards the fallen fir. "Find anything, Pepper?"

Pepper let out a deep growl as he continued to investigate the area.

Andrea poked her head out from behind a large boulder that rested at the opposite side of the road. "We should take this opportunity to leave!"

Before they could react, the shrill cry of the Donphan echoed out again and the tree rustled with movement. The Donphan burst out of the shroud of needles and rolled straight for Pepper in an attempt to catch him off guard. Pepper was quick on his paws, however, and managed to avoid the attack.

The smoke billowing from Pepper's tail grew thicker as he took in a deep breath; tracking the movements of the rampaging Donphan carefully, he let loose a spray of flickering flames, taking care not to catch his master, his two friends or the grass in the flaming arc. The Donphan proved to be too fast, however, leaving a trail of burning dust behind it as it continued to roll about.

"Adjust your aim a little, Pepper!" Patrick ordered.

Pepper kept up his relentless barrage of fire breath, but he just couldn't connect his attack. All he was doing was tiring himself out while the Donphan continued its deft dance of avoidance. Meanwhile, it was only just getting started; its attacks grew in accuracy and increased in speed with each miss.

Patrick narrowly scrambled out of the way of the Donphan as it rolled straight at him, then picked himself up off the ground. "Bloody hell... Uhh... This could be bad..."

Andrea had been analyzing Patrick's strategy from her safe spot and could plainly see that it wasn't working. "He needs to find a way to slow that thing down somehow..." She turned to Emily. "Do you know if Patrick is actually any good at this Pokémon battling thing? I kinda didn't buy his bragging earlier."

Emily bit her lower lip. "Not really... He can hold his own, but he's not as good as he thinks he is... I'm a little worried about this."

"Great..." she muttered. "I don't know much myself, but it looks like I'm gonna have to back him up somehow."

She took a moment to study the battlefield as she formulated a plan. Speed seemed to be the key issue at hand, and luckily she had a Pokémon of her own that could help with that. She reached into her stocking and grabbed Widow's Pokéball, then tossed it forward. The ball exploded with a loud hissing sound that briefly caught the attention of everyone present, and a large arachnid creature dropped to the ground with a hearty thud.

The stout brown arachnid stood firm on her eight legs, and the thick coating of hair on her bristled with anticipation for the upcoming battle. The two appendages that typically rested on the back of most other Ariados subspecies instead sprouted from her head, just above the solitary horn, and twitched in regular intervals.

She stood up and called out loudly, "Patrick! We gotta slow that thing down somehow!"

"And how in the bloody hell are we supposed to do that?! The bugger just keeps rolling!"

She took cover behind the boulder again and addressed the Ariados. "Listen closely, Widow. Get out there and help Pepper out... We need to slow that Donphan down, think your webs can do the trick?"

Widow zoned in on the rampaging Donphan and skittered forward onto the battlefield. She spun in place and aimed her spinnerets carefully; with her legs firmly spread apart, she shot out a sticky strand of silk in the direction of the Donphan, snagging onto its armor plates as it rolled by. The slack in the stand quickly reached its limit, sending Widow tumbling into the dirt. She quickly regained her footing, only to be forcibly dragged along until the strand snapped.

"Should have figured..." Andrea muttered.

"Keep trying," Emily recommended. "Cover that thing in enough webs and it'll be stuck to the ground, right?"

She studied the battlefield some more. "I doubt it... Maybe if it were standing still, but I think the Donphan is just too heavy and fast for this to work." She looked towards the broken fir and formulated her next idea: if the Donphan were to smash into something hard enough, perhaps that could buy Pepper enough time to seize the upper hand. She looked around for something that might work, only to realize they were hiding behind the perfect obstacle. She grabbed Emily by the wrist and tugged. "Maybe we don't need to slow it down. Maybe we can use its speed against it. Follow me."

Patrick spotted the two emerge from their hiding spot. "What are you two doing!? Get back!"

Andrea pointed to the boulder. "Patrick, listen to me, I've got an idea. You see that boulder we were hiding behind? If that Donphan smashes into it, it'll probably stun it, knock it out of its shell and then your Hopañero can actually do something useful."

He was skeptical of the plan. "You sure about this?"

"I tried, but I don't think Widow's going to be much use in this situation. Thing's too fast for her to get a good anchor on it! We've gotta try before Pepper runs out of energy, and then we're screwed."

"Right, you heard the lady, Pepper!" he called out. "Park yourself in front of that rock, now!"

"Get ready, Widow!" she added. "As soon as that thing stops moving, cover it in webs!"

Pepper broke his attention away from the rampaging Donphan for a brief moment, positioning itself between it and the boulder. He kept a close eye on the Donphan, adjusting his positioning as needed, ready to leap out of the way at a moment's notice. Exactly as planned, the Donphan began to circle around and aimed directly for him; with a swift leap into the air, Pepper had lured the Donphan right into the trap! A large crack formed down the center of the boulder as the Donphan smashed directly into it -- dazed by the hard impact.

"Hell yeah!" Patrick exclaimed. "Light 'em up, Pepper! Everything you've got!"

Before Widow could spring to action and lock the dazed Donphan down, Pepper charged forward. The smoke that billowed from his stubby tail erupted into flames as a large stream of white hot fire breath blew in the Donphan's direction, and he was absolutely relentless with his attack. With the flames burning into its exposed underside, the Donphan's hostile nature shifted towards terror, and it spent every bit of energy it had on trying to make an escape. Pepper pursued the stumbling and injured Donphan into the grass, stopping every few moments to hop up above and direct a short burst of flame in its direction.

"That's enough, get him to stop!" Andrea called out. "We don't need to start a wildfire out here!"

"Pepper, back!" Patrick ordered. He took a moment to catch his breath and dust himself off, keeping his eye on the Donphan as it scurried up the rocky cliffs. "Ho ho ho ho!" he laughed, as if he could barely contain his excitement -- or perhaps sanity. "That could have gone really, really badly... Those things are killing machines when they're pissed."

"Yeah..." Emily added. "I'd rather not have to deal with a medical emergency this far outside of town. I've only got first aid supplies!"

"We need to keep moving. All that noise probably attracted the herd," Andrea suggested.

Patrick nodded. "She's right about that. Come on, Pepper, lead the way and keep us safe. Let's keep up a light jog for about ten minutes, get us out of their territory quicker."

"Ugh, great... I've gotta run now?" she complained.

It was a much more cautious journey for the group after that. Chatter was kept to a minimum. Every small movement on the side of the road or in the trees and bushes was heavily scrutinized. Andrea kept close to Patrick and Emily, and they all stayed within an arm's reach of Pepper, who led the way forward. Widow kept a sizable distance behind, ready to strike if the Donphan or its friends returned.

Neither of them hoped for it, but both Patrick and Andrea were ready for the Donphan to return, only this time with friends; it was behavior that both of them had learned about during their studies, behavior that most trainers were dangerously unaware of. As the landscape changed from rocky hills back to sparsely populated woodland, however, the possibility of that began to diminish, and the aura of worry dissipated as they continued on towards Rosewater Falls.

Emily unexpectedly patted Andrea on the shoulder and gripped her in a friendly manner. "Good work back there. You saved our arses for sure."

"Huh?" she asked.

"Emi's right. That strategy of yours... I didn't even see it," Patrick added.

"Oh, uhh..." she nervously laughed. "Really, Pepper did all the work. Me and Widow bumbled around."

"Pepper saved the day with your guidance and your strategy. Seriously, good work."

She couldn't help but feel the praise was unwarranted. "Was it really all that special?"

Patrick and Emily looked at each other briefly; they couldn't tell if she was simply downplaying the praise as they might expect of her, or truly clueless about how good her strategy was.

"Are you kidding? That was incredible! You said you're not a trainer, even on a hobby level, but... You ever spectate any of that top tier competitive stuff?"

"Oh, maybe more than a little bit of it. There's a girl I follow on Instaglam who records her matches and uploads them, which I might have learned a thing or two from. But no, I don't think I'm all that good when it comes to actually battling myself."

"Ah, a shame. You seem like you'd be good at it. Looks like you already know how to identify problems on a battlefield and think outside of the box."

She stopped in her tracks and their eyes met when the two turned around to look at her. "If your intent is to get me to embrace the idea of becoming a Pokémon trainer, you can stop right now. I'm working on becoming a researcher nothing else."

"Oh, no! Nothin' meant by it!" he reassured her. "Just... you could go far as like... a hired travel guide, or something similar. Provide security for travellers and hikers."

"Maybe..." she quietly said, following them again. "I guess if this doesn't work out, that's something I could look at. I'd rather not go back to waitress work, if I'm honest." Her attention was grabbed by the loud, shrieking call that came from a large bird that circled above them like a vulture. "Uhh, we should be in town soon, right? This bird is making me nervous... Is that a Fearow? A Vultear?" She squinted her eyes in hopes of getting a better look, but it didn't help. "I can't quite tell."

Patrick looked up and spotted the large bird. "Pretty sure that's a Fearow, based on the neck length. Vultears have shorter beaks, as well."

"Ah, heh..."

"Don't worry, though, it won't bother us. Know why?"

"Uhh... They're carrion feeders, aren't they?"

"They are. It's a little alarming that one is circling us, though... Let's keep moving."

Update notes: June 3, 2023:

• Various tweaks to grammar

 

[Misfit Angel]

- Content warnings -
[ moderate sexually suggestive content and innuendos ]

- Content notes -
The contents of this chapter are largely identical to Chapter 5: The Third Wheel of Land of the Roses 2.0. The setting has changed and a few things have been taken out, as they revealed too much too early, and didn't fit in with the focus character/point of view format I'm writing with. There are also some potentially troubling viewpoints the main character has which do not reflect my own.​

Black Heart, Bright Soul
Chapter 3: The Third Wheel​

"Young couples these days are the worst. They're so obsessed with showing off how much they 'love' each other to realize that they actually don't. That's exactly why we've made our reality show about them! It's ratings gold!"​

~ Ryan Starr, Executive Producer of​

True Love In Paradise​

May 12th
Rosewater Falls, Kingdom of Lanark

The sun had just retreated under the horizon by the time that the group had reached the outskirts of Rosewater Falls. Just as the darkness threatened to envelope them, they found themselves awash in the golden light of the village's antique street lamps. Though it was cold and windy, something felt cozy about the village -- a village of small homes, expertly manicured yards and gardens, and quiet, meandering streets that each had their own unique story to tell. Andrea found herself reminded of the quaint and warm atmosphere that surrounded the winter holidays, days when most people get a few weeks off from work or school to return home and visit friends and family, celebrate with each other and ring in what they hoped would be a better and more prosperous year.

"Holidays I missed last year..." she thought with a heavy, audible sigh.

"Tired?" Patrick asked.

She perked up upon hearing his voice for the first time in nearly twenty minutes. "Oh. Umm. Yeah, but I'm mostly just relieved that we're finally in town."

He nodded and groaned. "Quite a walk! It's been a long time since I've gone this far on my own two legs."

"So where are we staying?" she asked.

"The best I could find for us is a place called the Blushing Blossom," Emily said. "Unfortunately, we're rolling into town during the middle of its Petalfall Festival, so... Well, I hope we didn't get a run down place, but I can't promise anything."

"What about a PokéCenter? Don't they have cheap hostels on the second floor?" she asked, recalling numerous stories from friends, acquaintances and idols.

"They do, but they're only for registered trainers in the Rose League. Doesn't matter, anyways. The room is already paid for."

"Room, singular?" she asked. "Not rooms, plural?"

Patrick and Emily glanced at each other. "Oh yeah... Well, when Emi originally set this all up a few weeks ago, we didn't think we'd have someone tagging along. The Institute's budget for field work isn't what it used to be, so... Unless I can twist Maylene's arm about upping the budget on this one, you're going to have to share with us."

"She's already gone home, anyways," Emily commented. "If she even bothered to come in today. I swear, accounting is the flakiest and most unreliable department we have... All they do is work remote these days."

"Ha! No arguments from me. Bunch o' bums!"

"Oh..." she mumbled. "Oh god. Share a room? I don't know about that..." Her thoughts were accompanied by another hearty sigh, but she did her best to contain it. "But what other option do I have? Paying for my own room means dipping into my emergency savings... Don't think that'd cover it, anyways..."

Much to her relief, the Blushing Blossom Inn was a quaint and comfortable-looking place, and stuck out like a sore thumb among the other buildings -- mostly of brick and stone -- in town. Paper lanterns and golden fairy lights hung from the edges of the curved tiled roof, gently illuminating the exotic murals painted across wooden walls. The building itself was nestled within an intricately-designed and carefully manicured garden, itself hidden behind a chest-high wall. Four cherry trees in full bloom stood tall at the corners of the property, which was just a stone's throw away from the river that snaked its way through the center of the village.

"I think we struck gold, it's adorable!" Emily triumphantly said.

"Wow, it's beautiful," Andrea added.

"Looks like it's been plucked straight out of medieval Tohjo. It's got normal rooms, right? No shared spaces? No weird movable walls?" Patrick pondered. "Tables and chairs, hopefully?"

"Should do," Emily answered.

After a brief chat with the elderly receptionist, the three arrived at their room. Much to their dismay, the room took the definition of claustrophobic and redefined it: the only noteworthy furniture in the room was a small plush couch that could barely seat two, a matching stool and a small desk that hosted a greeting card written by the hotel staff. A clock hung above the couch, and a painting of a cherry orchard hung above the desk. An exotic potted plant that appeared to be outgrowing the room was shoved into a corner next to the door. Another door at the far end of the room was ajar, and a shower faucet could be seen reflecting off of the mirror inside.

"Uhh... This room is looking a little small..." Andrea said as she looked the room over. "Are you sure this is right? There aren't any beds in here!"

"Yeeeah..." Patrick said in agreement as he peeked over her shoulder. "I understand that hotel rooms are at a premium during festivals, but... This is the best we could get?"

Emily shook her head. "This isn't right. For how much we paid for this, this better not be all we're getting, or I'm going straight to the manager and demanding our money back. Loudly."

She tapped on Emily's shoulder. "Let me in?" she asked, prompting an intricate puzzle-like dance that involved the three entering and leaving the small room one at a time. Finally in the room properly, she examined it closer; aside from the clock and the painting, the walls were remarkably bare, and an inspection of the tiny bathroom didn't reveal a hidden passage to another room, as she had hoped. "Great..." she lamented as she sat down on the couch.

Emily sighed loudly. "Yeah, this is bullshit. You two sit tight, I'm going to go talk to that receptionist." Her annoyance was readily apparent in how loudly she stomped away.

A few minutes of awkward silence went by as Patrick took a seat on the couch next to Andrea. Due to its size, there was little room to spare and plenty of friction among their hips as he sat down. He quietly brought his phone out and started to look through other local hotel listings.

Her internal voice groaned as he made himself comfortable beside her. "Come on, dude... You know there's not enough room for both of us..." She fidgeted uncomfortably as she tried to put some distance -- even it it would be less than a centimeter -- between herself and him.

He lowered his phone and looked around the room quizzically. "No bed? There's gotta be more to this place..." Patrick wondered aloud.

"Yeah! What kind of hotel doesn't have beds?"

"Well, you know how it is over in Tohjo. So many people, so little space. Bars that are smaller than an alleyway, apartments that are little more than glorified prison cells, entire corporations crammed into buildings the size of a convenience store. Maybe this is what they have over there, and they brought it with them?"

She leaned back on the couch and had a satisfying stretch. "Hopefully this was a mistake and they have a bigger room, cause this isn't going to --" She stopped herself when her hand brushed up against the decorated wall beside her and felt it jiggle. "-- work?" She pressed her palm against the wall and jiggled her arm back and forth. "Wait a minute... Didn't you say movable walls earlier?" She dragged her palm against the wall and noted a bit of movement, prompting her to stand up and give the wall a more forceful push.

The wall slid along a rail and disappeared into a crevice between the bathroom and a much larger room. The larger room was much more becoming of a comfortable hotel, featuring a queen size bed, a table encircled by four chairs, a stool next to a bookshelf and a woven reed bench in the far corner. There appeared to have been a television in the room at one point in the past, as a shelf with wire connections coiled up on top of it stood on the floor across from the bed.

Patrick cheered. "Now this is more like it! I was worried we were going to be stuck in this tiny room!"

Before they could make themselves comfortable, the door at the entrance opened and Emily stepped in. "Guys, it's -- Oh. Looks like you figured it out."

"Put three geniuses in a room and eventually someone figures it out," Patrick said.

"Yeah, geniuses," Emily half-heartedly said as she picked up the greeting card on the small desk. "We probably should have read this when we got in... Or tried poking the one obviously different wall in the room. I don't think we're geniuses." She twirled about in the much larger space, letting her arms fly free and wide. "You should have seen the look on that poor receptionist's face. She thought I was about to beat her down!"

"You didn't? I'm surprised!" he joked.

As the other two were talking, the details of the room had sunken into Andrea, and she noticed the one big detail that stuck out: there was only one bed and three people, a fact that brought her discomfort of being stuck in the middle of a flirty couple back to the front of her mind. At the very least, the woven reed bench in the corner of the room looked like it could be slept on, but it didn't bring her any peace of mind.

"First I've gotta share a room with a couple, now this? What happens if they... Well... Gods, I hope not."

She wandered over to the bench and collapsed onto it. Finally getting off of her feet after several hours of hiking through the highland wilderness brought an immense sense of relief, relief that clashed with her anxieties. She unlatched the dozen-or-so buckles on her boots and slid them off, letting out a heavy sigh of relief as she threw her legs over the armrest on the other end of the bench. The room lacked a TV, so she reached into her stocking and grabbed her phone, hoping to pass the time before she fell asleep.

"Before you get too comfortable," Patrick started, followed by a slight pause. "You should hop in the shower."

Her stomach knotted. It was such a bizarre request -- no, an order -- to come from him. She couldn't think of a legitimate reason for why he'd ask her to; all that came to mind were salacious thoughts, such as him trying to sneak a peek at her while she was getting undressed, or catch her in some sort of compromising situation. He'd only just met her, how dare he? And in front of his girlfriend?

The mere thought of it made her dizzy. "Uhh... Whaaaa? Why?"

"Unlike us, you're not exactly dressed for a hike in the wilds, you know. It might be a good idea to scrub down, make sure you don't have any little bugs on you."

"Oh! Uhh, yeah," she nervously laughed, relieved to hear that it was a reasonable suggestion. "I guess that makes sense."

"You said you don't like big ones, but it's the small ones you should really worry about."

"Right..." She reached for her backpack, unzipped the main compartment and plunged her hand into it. Her empty hand very quickly came back out, slamming into her forehead. "Of course... I stressed out so much about what I was going to wear that I forgot to bring a spare change of clothes... I am such a fucking idiot sometimes..."

"Hhhhnnnggh... Warmth..." Andrea groaned as a deluge of warm water splashed against her shoulders. "Miss the mild temperatures of Aughrim already..."

She'd been encouraged to spend her time in the shower checking for ticks and other dangerous small insects, but she'd already pushed that out of mind for something that felt more immediately troubling. She couldn't shake the feeling that there was something strange about Patrick -- and by extension Emily -- and the way they were treating her. Generosity towards strangers only goes so far, she thought, and those two seemed to have crossed the line. Both of them, Patrick especially, treated her like an old friend, and she'd begun to wonder why.

"I really hope I'm misjudging him, and that Patrick isn't flirting with me... in front of his girlfriend, of all people! Or... What if she's into that..."

While she was uncomfortable with the circumstances, she did enjoy the positive attention immensely. It felt like it'd been several months since someone other than her roommate had treated her in a positive manner; at best, she felt like a background character in the lives of the people she interacted with, and if not, she always felt like a bothersome burden otherwise. If she did get the job in the end, she genuinely did look forward to Patrick's friendship, but only on a professional level. But on the other side of that coin, she was unsure if she even wanted to work for the Reiland Institute if she'd have to deal with him in that manner. Lifelong dream or not, she wanted to be able to focus on her work uninterrupted, and she couldn't imagine being able to do so if he were always within an arm's reach, trying to be friendly, or accommodating, or anything else.

"Is this just what it's like to be a working woman? It was fun being flirty with the others at The Lair, and it made sense given the atmosphere of the place... Am I being naive in hoping that a more serious environment like a research center has less of that stuff?"

She tried to push her worries out of the way by focusing on the potential positives that could come out of a close friendship with her boss, but she couldn't help but dwell on the annoyances, expectations and related anxieties that she experienced at The Lair. She noticed her coworkers rush to conclusions and assume the worst when her boss took a shine to her, and she admittedly reacted the same way when his good graces shifted to another employee. Likewise, she frequently worried about the consequences of being too distant with her coworkers and bosses in an environment that demanded friendly relations with not just them, but especially the customers; she felt compelled to play along with her boss's bullshit even if it was starting to wear her down. Even worse, it started to cause problems in the relationship she was in at the time, which demoralized her and, as she saw it, was probably a big contribution to why she lost that relationship, and why she was fired in the end.

"I didn't mind it most of the time, but hopefully that's all in the past. Working at a prestigious research center has to be different than working a laid back waitress position, right? No customers to please, no expectations of being flirty and fun... Maybe... Unless it just is the norm for working women... Really wish mom imparted some of her wisdom on me before she passed..."

Back to thinking about Patrick and Emily, another nagging doubt in her mind made her even more uneasy: she honestly couldn't tell if their behavior was actually problematic, or if they were acting like normal, sociable, well-adjusted human beings who just had an interest in getting to know her. The past two years, and especially the past six months, had been unbelievably rough for her when it came to her social life, and she wasn't certain what to make of the situation. Maybe the two were just being friendly and inclusive, and her bad experiences in the past were causing her to put her guard up too far. Maybe there were facets of socialization that she had simply forgotten during her extended periods of solitary study, her stressful interactions at her job and subsequent miserable isolation when she lost it.

"Not that I ever really knew how to socialize... I wish I was more of a butterfly before I got to university, instead of being that quiet and weird kid... Maybe it's me who should try being more friendly?" She balled her right hand up into a fist and slammed it into the fiberglass siding of the shower. "The fuck... Why am I worrying about all this shit before I even get the job? I wish it were as simple as before, when I was just a dumb, clueless bimbo who had no expectations or experiences to draw upon, and that was enough for a braindead job..."

Before her philosophy session had finished, she realized the water had started to run cold in spite of the heat being on full blast; she'd been in the shower for longer than she thought. She shut the water off and quickly reached for the towel, and in a short time, she was fully dressed again with the exception of her stockings. She cautiously approached the door and slowly pushed it open to announce her presence to the two outside. As she stepped out, she saw them both sat at the table, each with a floppy slice of pizza in their hands.

"Hungry?" Emily asked, showcasing her massive wedge of pizza. "I figured it's a bit late for us to go out to a restaurant, so I ordered in a pizza."

"We weren't sure about your personal ethics for meat, so we settled on something simple just in case," Patrick added.

She approached the table and grabbed one of the slices before giving it a cautionary glance. "I've got no objections to meat myself, but thank you. That's very thoughtful." With her dinner in hand, she scurried back to the bench and took a bite out of it.

"You know, you can sit over here with us. We don't bite," Patrick said. "We're not vampires."

"I don't think it would bother her even if we were," Emily quipped with a snicker. "Maybe we should be worried about her biting us."

"Heh. I'm fine here," she answered before taking another bite of her pizza with one hand, and scrolling down a web page on her phone with her other.

The two watched her for a brief moment, then spoke quietly amongst themselves. The sudden hushed nature of their conversation caught her attention, and she tried to glance over without selling the fact that she was trying to listen.

Before long, Emily placed her slice of pizza onto the lid of the box and approached Andrea in a timid manner, before taking a seat on the floor next to the bench. "Hey. I have a question, if you don't mind?"

Andrea looked up from her phone. "What is it?" Almost as quickly as she left it, she returned to the comfort of her phone.

"You've been distant practically all day. Maybe that's just who you are -- I frankly don't know yet. If it is, that's cool! You be you! But I'm still curious about something. Are Patrick and I making you uncomfortable in any way?"

Her focus drifted from her phone towards a distant spot in front of her, but she didn't turn to address Emily. She paused for a moment to think it over; she wrestled with the idea of whether she should tell the truth and risk offending the two, or keep it bottled inside and hope her discomfort would go away on its own. She told herself to be truthful about the matter, as being honest was a skill she'd need to cultivate if she hoped to work with them -- and the rest of the Reiland Institute staff -- in the long term.

However, different words passed through her lips. "Don't worry about it. My social interaction skills are just a little rusty... I don't want to get in between you two, anyways."

Emily cocked her head to the side. "Get in between us? What do you mean?"

"I dunno, I'm just kinda here. You two rented the same hotel room together, and, uhh... I don't want to get in the way if you... ya know."

The confusion on Emily's face was replaced by a sly smile. "Oh! Oh, ha, wow. You don't think we're a couple, do you?"

"You're not?"

Emily nodded. "I guess the deep friendship we have might look a lot like a relationship to outsiders, but no, we're just friends these days."

"And we're happy that way," Patrick chirped from the other side of the room.

"That makes me feel a little bit better," she said aloud, then whispered further, "Well, now that that's cleared up, I have a question as well... Do you get the feeling that... maybe Patrick is flirting with me?"

Emily adopted a deeply thoughtful facial expression. "I... I don't know, actually. He's... He's kinda... Well! He's friendly with most girls he meets. Sometimes it's hard to tell if he's just being friendly, or actually taking it further..."

"I see... Guess I'll have to keep an eye on him, then."

"Might not be a bad idea, but... I don't think he is. That'd be really unprofessional of him, and I don't know him to be like that. I'd be really fucking disappointed in him if he used a guest worker as an opportunity to land a date."

"That's what I was thinking... So surely not?"

"I can talk to him if you want, let him know he should let up if it's just him that's making you uncomfortable."

"No, no no no!" she said energetically and louder than she expected, then returned to her hushed whispers. "I don't want to rock the boat and upset him... my future is on the line here."

"What are you two ladies plotting about over there?" Patrick asked. "Should I be worried?"

"Nothing!" Emily chirped. "Just discussing some early ideas about what we're gonna do tomorrow."

"Ah, ok, I won't interrupt then. Just try to keep it down a bit," he said, and groaned as he stretched. "I'm going to bed. I suggest you girls do the same soon, we've got a long day ahead of us."

"Alright, I'll join ya in a minute then," Emily replied, before turning her head towards Andrea. "Unless you want the bed tonight? Looks more comfortable than what you're sitting on. Physically, at least."

She took a look over at the double-sized bed as Patrick sat down on it. "Uhh, yeah... That's not happening. Not while I'm unsure about... you know, his intentions..."

"Understandable."

Fr: Andrea Dennison, 10:32 PM

'hey'
'kinda wishing i could come home lol'​

Fr: 'Webster', 10:33 PM

'Hey! Made it there safely?'​

Fr: Andrea Dennison, 10:33 PM

'yeah'
'little trouble on the road with a donphan i guess'
'but thats to be expected in the wild'​

Fr: 'Webster', 10:34 PM

'Glad you made it safely!'
'It's kinda weird not hearing your music this time of night.'​

Fr: Andrea Dennison, 10:35 PM

'aww miss me already huh <3'
'well i just wanted to let you know that i made it to rosewater safely'
'seems like these guys want an early start so i should probably try to sleep'
'i know i know its eight hours too early for that lol but im actually tired'
'such a long and draining walk'
'gnight'​

Fr: 'Webster', 10:37 PM

'Good night. See ya in a few days I guess!'​

May 13th
Rosewater Falls, Kingdom of Lanark

"Cuckawwwww! Cuckawwwww!"

It was the sound of a Coocluck rooster, a sound that Andrea hadn't heard in nearly five years; for as long as she could remember, that sound was what signaled the start of her days, and just like the olden days of her countryside upbringing, it served that purpose once more. Despite the discomfort of sleeping on the bench and the extreme swing in her sleep pattern, she felt reasonably well rested. She rolled off of the bench with a hearty thud, stood up and quietly made her way across the room toward the window. As she drew back the curtains ever so slightly, the golden light of the rising sun bled in, turning her ghostly pale skin into a beacon that lit the darkened room.

The change in light levels roused one of the two in the bed from their sleep. Motion under the covers preceded Emily poking her head out and glancing around in a daze. "Mmm?" she groggily mumbled as her eyes opened. "...time is it..."

"Oh, sorry if I woke you," Andrea said with a soft whisper, closing the curtain and blackening the room again. "Sunrise. A Coocluck woke me up."

"Mmm..."

"Guess that's an earlier start than you anticipated?"

"Mmm..."

She chuckled at Emily's lack of straightforward answers, then made that same quiet journey back across the room and returned to the bench. She grabbed her phone to check the time, and her groggy eyes widened upon seeing it: 5:11 AM. "Five in the morning? Are you fucking kidding me? That's usually when I go to bed..." She stretched and could feel that it was likely to be an unpleasant day; her legs were still sore from the extended walk from Loch Alstan, and now her back was acting up from sleeping on the bench. "Well... Now what? I have no idea when these two are gonna get out of bed... and I'm gonna need -- dare I say it -- some coffee before long..."

About an hour passed before there was any substantial movement in the bed. Emily was the first to get up, and she'd clearly gotten a decent night of sleep; she was cheerful, she was energetic and she was excited to get their day started. Patrick was similar when he finally got out of bed about twenty minutes after that, though much more sluggish with his start. A short conversation about how their day would pan out happened; Emily included Andrea's opinions as if they actually mattered -- something she felt was strange, but happy about regardless -- but the discussion was cut short by a horrible growling sound.

Patrick rubbed his belly. "Oh! How about we continue this discussion over breakfast, ladies?"

"You look like you really enjoyed that," Emily commented. She pushed her half finished breakfast across the table until it clinked against Andrea's empty bowl. "I've never seen anyone clean a bowl that quickly. I could have sworn I saw sparks flying off of it!"

"I did! Outside of special occasions or sneaking a meal out of The Lair, I can't remember the last time I ate something that wasn't cheap and didn't taste like cardboard," she answered with a sigh. "I've never really had any money, but I always told myself that a bad diet was the price of progress in order to make myself feel better. Always told myself that I should be happy I even had that, and that I didn't go to bed hungry most nights."

"Yet you show up to a wilderness hike in what looks like an expensive designer dress, sporting the craziest blinging necklace I've ever seen," Patrick commented.

"Okay, younger me wasn't the best with her money! I'd like to think I'm better about that now..." She looked down at the silver necklace that rested on her shoulders and grasped the red gemstone between her fingers. "The necklace wasn't my idea, anyways. It was a gift."

"Well, at least you're a cheap date, today. I like that," he quipped as he examined the bill, earning a sharp glare from Emily.

"How much was it again?" she asked, her hand already buried in her purse in a search for a handful of coins.

He shook his head. "You'd like to think you're better with your money, but I don't think you are. You said money is tight, and you're our guest. Remember, we're taking care of you until you're back home."

"Are you sure?" she asked. "I should have enough to pay for my own meals and still get home..."

Patrick looked over towards Emily and stifled a laugh. "The fact that she said 'should' tells me she's not actually sure herself." He turned back to Andrea. "I'm paying, and that's the end of that."

It was the age old 'no, I'm paying!' game she'd heard so much about. She was thrilled she'd finally gotten to experience it herself, as it signified that she was moving into the adult world, but she knew she wasn't going to win. Even more, he was right: money was indeed tight and she didn't need to be looking for excuses to spend what little she had left -- she realized she might need it in the near future.

"Very well, suit yourself. And, thank you."

"Any time," he answered habitually, then caught himself. "Well, not any time. You know what I mean."

She giggled.

As he counted up his coins, he said, "Speaking of clothes, I'm curious of what else you have."

Andrea felt her heart rate begin to spike before Emily blurted, "Uhh? Is that really important, Patrick?"

"Well..." he started, trying his best to contain a smile. "The Reiland Institute doesn't have a uniform, but it does have a dress code. It's not strict, but... Let me just say, that dress you're wearing is very much on the border of the dress code, and I'm not sure Dr. Reiland would have a favorable opinion of it. Do you have anything a little more modest?"

"I do. But, uhh... Heh, stupid me didn't put them away properly and they were covered in wrinkles, so that's why I picked this one. If it's a little too showy, I'll keep that in mind if I get hired."

He nodded, then pounded his palm on the table as he stood up. "I'm gonna go pay our bill." With that, he disappeared into the restaurant.

Yet again, she found herself panicking over something he said that ultimately turned out to be benign -- once he had the opportunity to clarify himself. She wondered if there was some sort of ulterior motive behind structuring his questions and recommendations in that manner, or if he was just a goofy guy who stumbled over his words a little too easily. She also felt a bit prickly about fibbing so quickly and so easily in regards to his question; her wardrobe was very limited, and not much more modest than what she was currently wearing. She grew nervous about the possibility of being hired and having nothing better to wear on her first day, but tried to push it from her mind -- that was a bridge she'd have to cross when she reached it.

Emily reached her hand across the table to grab her attention. "You seem troubled. What's up?"

"Does Patrick always ask his questions so weirdly like that? Like, make a suggestive inquiry at first, and then explain himself a moment later?"

Emily tilted her head in thought. "Every now and then, I guess? But it's been awhile since I've paid close attention to the noise that comes out of his mouth when he speaks. He's... just a little weird sometimes. He doesn't have the greatest social skills or awareness, but they've definitely improved since he was promoted to his chief of staff position."

"Maybe I'm overthinking things... As I mentioned last night, my own social skills aren't the greatest, either. And I guess I expected things to be super formal and professional, rather than friendly and casual."

"People being professional, at a professional workplace? Welcome to the office workforce." Emily chuckled. "Even at the top, people are way too casual. I can tell it's bothering you, though. Are you sure you don't want me to set him straight for you?"

She grimaced and shook her head. "I am. I don't want to make a bad first impression like that. Besides, I dealt with it at my last job -- a flirty boss, I mean. But it's been half a year, maybe I just need to get used to it again..."

"You don't have to get used to anything, Andrea."

She shrugged. "Whatever. It's not going to look very good if I start being a killjoy... I get enough of that just because of the goth persona."

Emily nodded. "I understand that, but you don't have to be the killjoy in this situation. I'd be the one saying something, and I can be neutral about it."

"I'll see how the rest of the day goes first. If we're still here tomorrow and he's still being overbearing... maybe we can talk to him about it."

"Just remember: even as an outsider -- hell, as a woman -- you're well within your rights to demand he be more professional. But it's your call. I'll keep my lips sealed if you think it's for the best."

She smiled; it was an immense comfort to know that she could rely on Emily in the coming days. "Thank you. I'll let you know if I need a little help."

Update notes: June 3, 2023:

• Various tweaks to grammar

 

[System Error]

- Why did she not just accept the spare jacket
- Well these two don't worry about PDA
- So first she is more or less silent save five words, then she's getting talked to which is making more than five.
- How do you decide where she stammers?
- It is comedic, but it kinda ruins the scene where she is expositing backstory with silliness.
- And then he went to pry her open with a crowbar and nobody laughed ever again.
- Just like that the shivering and stammering goes away.
- Debt, how the rich stay the richest.
- Sounds like she can dance if she wants to. And she left her friends behind.
- Ooo neat grass/fire concept. Only other one I've really seen are an Oddish line variant that take volcano elements
- Heh, opposite trainer code of canon.
- Welp. Shoutouts to tall grass.
- Really really tall grass.
- Nice place to put the tracks.
- Price gouging,
- Insert joke about fixing him here.
- Disco inferno? Okay this guy is old. Or at least the story is in the 80s or 90s.
- Sometimes you do maintain eye contact and sometimes you don't but here it don't matter
- WHY WOULD YOU NOT USE GRASS MOVES IDIOT
- Couldn't let go?
- Webs and fire. Hmmmm...
- Nice battle.
- The classic change one letter. InstaGlam sounds like a very fabulous variation.
- And random bird I am sure will not be relevant at all.

- Was the dark like going to eat them? In grim bleak worlds as this that lean into Pokémon being too deadly dangerous can't tell.
- Thank you for not forcing it as the Blushing Bellossom
- Maylene huh? Intentional?
- Would it technically be medieval times in Japan? More a Europe thing. Unless Patrick is an idiot on purpose.
- This place seems a scam. Or they blew the budget on aesthetics. Aside reading and writing review on tablet. It knows Pokémon with the accent, but not aesthetics. Suggests anesthetics instead. Luckily on this program a quick tap fixes and overenthusiatic autocorrect; only keep it on here as it helps when writing on it.
- Suddenly reminded of that Futurama gag with Bender's apartment
- Did she forget about the couch in the entry room?
- That is a random request indeed...
- Awkward compromising situation.
- Is it paranoia? Oh probably. But is it correct?
- Ack, floppy pizza. It goes everywhere. And no plates?
- Hm. Can't help but wonder if Andrea was badly burned in the past.
- And here I thought after that the guy would be stuck on the bench. Guess the couch doesn't exist anymore.
- Like the contrasts in punctuation in the texts
- How loud is that bird
- Hm. Patrick acting a bit sus. Too many of those comments.
- Professionals being unprofessional? Sounds like an anime.

Well I do that and come back to a crashed computer. Lovely. That and spending 30 minutes backing up just in case after that made me forget most of the comments I wanted to make in the process. Fic continues to progress along, though! Keep it up.

 

[Misfit Angel]

- Content warnings -
[ None! ]

- Content notes -
None! This entire chapter is new, aimed at replacing what I felt was a dead end plot line from Land of the Roses 2.0 that stubbornly and pointlessly stuck around after setting it up in Land of the Roses 1.0.​

Black Heart, Bright Soul
Chapter 4: Wings in the Wild​

"I look at the birds in the sky and think to myself, why shan't I fly beside them? There's magic up there in that cold blue -- I just have to find my way up there and take it."​

~ Angelica DeWitt, co-inventor and pilot of the first manned aircraft flight (May 13th, 1879)​

​

May 13th
Heron Hook Wildlife Refuge, Kingdom of Lanark

Their destination that morning was about a three kilometer journey north of Rosewater Falls. Andrea found it curious that the road to it was so poorly maintained; it branched off of the brick roadway that served as the main artery of Rosewater, sharply transitioned into loose gravel, and then faded into mud before disappearing completely into the overgrowth. She was tempted to ask Patrick if he was lost, but held her tongue. She instead pulled her phone out and tried to find out more about where she was going.

Heron Hook was a vast expanse of undisturbed wetlands that was owned by the royal family of Lanark. While it was at one point one of the most popular vacation destinations in the country, she determined -- initially from the scant details she could find about the location, and later by the fact that it was labeled as such -- that it was currently off limits to the public, and entering its final stage of a decades-long restoration project. She was excited to see what it looked like, as even the 'untouched' sections of the country were often tamed, maintained and then carefully manicured to appear pristine -- all while being friendly to casual walkers, seasoned hikers, wilderness explorers and the hordes of traveling Pokémon trainers.

Eventually, the frame of what was once the park's visitor center loomed out of the mid-morning fog. As they approached, the front door opened and out stepped a massive monster of a man, a man so large, bemuscled and covered in ginger hair, he looked as if he were a shaved Ursaring.

"Uhh. Hope this isn't the bouncer," Patrick said. "Hello!" he called out. "Who's in charge here?"

The man crossed his massive arms across his chest. "That'd be me. Are ye three with the Reiland Institute?"

"Yes, sir." With a nod, he introduced himself. "Patrick Adelaide." He placed his hand on Emily's shoulder. "Emily Winehaus, our medical expert." He let go of Emily and placed his other hand onto Andrea's shoulder. "This is Andrea Dennison, our assistant for the next few days."

The wall of muscle extended his beefy hand forward. "Name's Diarmad, of Clan McDaltry."

Patrick took his hand and shook it, but the tables were quickly turned on him. When the hand shake concluded, Patrick wrenched his back and shook it in pain as be groaned; a very clear outline of stressed skin could be seen on his hand. "Wow... Met some strong people before... But you take the cake."

Diarmad let out a roaring laugh before offering his hand to Andrea.

"Mmm, ahh..." she hummed as she studied the man's hand. Having seen what just happened to Patrick, she instead grabbed the tips of his fingers and shook them instead. "Pleasure to meet you, sir."

Diarmad bellowed with laughter. "Bah ha ha! Smart enough t' escape the iron grip! Ah like ya, lassie!"

"Why didn't I think of that..." Patrick groaned.

He moved onto Emily and stared her down for a few brief moments, taking a moment to study the verdant henna tattoos around her left eye, before placing his hand forward. "Lovin' the tatts, lassie, but Ah don't recognize them. Which clan 'r' ye with?"

She fearlessly shook his hand properly. "My mother traces her heritage -- owwwww! -- back to Clan McTrodadh."

Diarmad's grin returned. "Golden hair... Ye don't look it, lassie, but ah can see it in yer eyes. The fire o' the north!"

"Mom decided to settle down with someone not from the highlands, that's all."

"Ach! That's the McTrodadh spirit, ahn't it? Conquerors even in the modern day!"

Emily giggled. "I guess you could say something like that! Dad always likes to describe her as 'a battleaxe of a woman'."

"Oh ho ho! Sounds like a fine lass! Hope ye've inherited her fiery -- "

Andrea leaned in towards Patrick and spoke in hushed whispers. "Uhh... what's happening?"

"Uhh, highlanders are happening," he answered with a chuckle. "They're a very proud and self-absorbed people. Just give 'em a minute."

"I've been up north of the border before, never experienced something like this."

"Count yourself lucky. Most ethnic Glastonians are like this."

After a few minutes of excited conversation between himself and Emily, Diarmad addressed the group as a whole again. "Let's 'ead inside, aye? Colder than a witch's tit out here!"

"Okey, here's the plan! Ahr volunteer medical staff are a wee bit swamped under with determinin' if these birdies got any sicknesses we should worry about, so, Emily? Ye'll be stayin' 'ere and helpin' them out with that. Ah'll introduce ye t' the team lead. He'll get ye up t' speed on what ye'll be helpin' with."

Emily nodded. "Got it."

He turned to address Andrea and Patrick. "As fer yous twos, yer with me. Ah'll guide ye through the wetlands, take ye t' the prime birdin' spots, tha' sort o' stuff. We'll be headin' through some pretty mucky wetland, so Ah'll look for a bi' o' help when it comes t' the boats."

"Boats? Sounds fun," Patrick commented.

"Will be for ye, laddie, ye ahn't doin' any of the rowin'!" he said, slamming his massive hand down onto Patrick's shoulder, enough to knock him off balance. "Ach! This way, Emily! Let me introduce ye t' the other staff. Then Ah'll be back out for yous twos."

"Guess I'm stuck here for awhile... Good luck out there, you two!" Emily waved as she started to follow Diarmad back into the hallway. "Try not to drown us with captures, if you can!"

"No promises! I'll make sure Andrea puts you to work!" he called out as the door closed. "Ah, well, that's a bummer. Kind of expected her to be with us the first day. Oh well, sounds like someone's gotta dig them out of a hole, and Emily's good at digging. More room for you to shine!"

"Heh, I guess." Andrea could feel the anxiety start to build up. "Or crash and burn..."

The lodge fell silent, with the exception of the various bird calls that echoed from the hallway. Andrea approached the window that looked out into the wetlands. Row upon dense row of tall, featureless and likely dead trees towered above an extensive basin of cloudy water. Despite the year approaching mid-May, the leaves had only barely just begun sprouting in the wetlands, leaving the trees and river weeds remarkably bare; the landscape was awash in tones of grey and to a lesser extent brown -- it looked daunting, but held its own beauty, at least in her eyes.

The situation ahead of her shared the same qualities. Beautiful in that she was excited to get started, explore an environment she'd never experienced before, and put her knowledge and skills to the test. Daunting in that it was finally time to prove herself, yet she didn't know how; she never considered herself much of an expert on avian Pokémon, and as she thought about it, she realized she only knew how to broadly identify large categories of birds, rather than differentiate between closely related ones. She also wasn't sure if her complete lack of tracking and hunting experience would hold her back, but at least she had a pair of more experienced people to rely on.

"Reliance... Right... Guess I can't rely on Emily to take some of the pressure off of me now... Reign Patrick in if he gets a little overbearing... Whatever! Don't get rattled out there, girl! Just take it one step at a time. You're here to prove yourself. You can do this!"

A few moments later the door opened and Diarmad stepped back into the room with a hearty sigh. "Bloody help. Or should Ah say, bloody non-help. Couldnae get anyone t' volunteer t' go out int' the cold!"

"So it's just us, then?" Patrick asked.

"Ach, thankfully no. Me most reliable lassie Alice is already out there, we'll touch base with her."

Patrick nodded, then lightly jabbed at Andrea with his elbow. "Ready to get out there?"

She nodded.

"Alreet, le's get goin' then! We got some birdies t' catch!"

Slosh. Slosh. Slosh.

"Man... My poor boots," Andrea said quietly. "Gonna be extra tough to polish these up this time."

She realized she had little reason to be, but her surroundings made her nervous. It felt like they were blindly walking into uncharted territory; the trio had been trudging through the murky wetlands for nearly half an hour, and any semblance of a maintained trail had faded almost as long ago. Reed-choked waters closed in on them on either side of the path ahead of them, and dense overgrowth covered the soggy earth beneath them.

"Are you sure we're still on the trail?" she asked, rotating the folded map in front of her in multiple directions in an attempt to get her bearings. The thin, wispy layer of fog that clung to the motionless water around them made it difficult for her to figure out where on the map they were, if it were even possible.

"Aye. May not look it, though," Diarmad answered. "The trails 'ere ahn't like the trails ye might be used to. Heron Hook is part o' the Crown's private lands -- not really meant for the public t' walk through. The 'trails' we got are mostly just convenient passages we park rangers know and use. Discourages explorers and hikers pretty well."

"I see. I guess I am used to well defined trails... And this is my first time being in a marsh, so I'm a little out of my element here. Nervous mostly."

"Ach! Don't be, lassie! Ah ahn't gonnae get yous twos lost. Been here long enough t' know these lands like the back o' me hand!"

Their journey took them along the banks of a muddy creek, which they eventually crossed by navigating a series of stepping stones that jutted out of the burbling water, and up a hill towards some drier land. At the top of a hill was an observation tower, lightly obscured by the thick overgrowth, and at the top of that stood a young woman with blazing red hair. A pair of binoculars were lifted to her eyes as she scanned the surrounding landscape.

"There she is," Diarmad said. "Oi, Alice!"

The woman dropped her binoculars and looked down at them, then started to merrily bounce down the wooden steps. With a smile on her face and her hands tucked behind her back, she tipped her head forward in greeting.

"These twos are our help for the next few days," Diarmad stated as he placed his massive hands on their shoulders. "This tall laddie is Patrick Adelaide, and this short lassie is Andrea Dennison."

"Hi," Alice said quickly and quietly with another tip of her head.

"Alice Redlocke, Heron Hook's only other proper park ranger. Trust 'er with me life!" he said. "So, see anything interesting out there yet?"

"Umm," she bleated. "I spotted a gaggle of Grumpooses flying north towards the loch. First of the season, I think?"

"So they're on their way back north, eh?" he asked. "Ah dunnae think we'll be goin' out as far as the loch today, but if we see them, let's see if we can bag a few of them birdies, too. We been 'avin' trouble catching them these past few years."

She took a few steps back towards the observation tower and lifted a backpack that rested against one of the struts. "I've got the Pokéballs right here, and I've already captured a Pidgeotto for the tagging program! Missed a couple times, though..."

"Ach, a miss or two ahn't nothin'."

She stepped up to Andrea and Patrick. "Umm. Which one of you is in charge?"

"That'd be me," Patrick said.

She unzipped the backpack and reached inside; a moment later, her hand returned, fingers wrapped around a lengthy coil of string that bound a large strand of Pokéballs together. She offered it to Patrick. "Here."

"You take these, Andrea. You're our resident softball pitching superstar."

"Heh. Uhh, right. That's me," she sheepishly said. She accepted the strand of Pokéballs and tried to find a place to clip them onto for easy access, but her lack of a belt made it difficult. She settled on the left strap of her backpack -- easy to reach with her dominant throwing arm.

Alice turned her body halfway and lifted her arm, pointing towards the southeast. "I recommend we start at the Paulson Wood, about half a kilometer from here. I saw a few Corvisquires flocking over in that direction while I was up in the tower. We're falling behind on our quota for them."

"See anything else while you were up there?" Patrick asked.

She crossed her arms and let out a heavy, pensive breath as she thought it over. "Mmm, not really... It's still a little chilly out here. Avian activity has been pretty sparse. Hopefully we'll find stuff just by wandering around?"

"We'll see! Let's get started, then."

The Paulson Wood was much more familiar to Andrea compared to the surrounding wetlands; dry, flat and choked with narrow, tall trees. It reminded her of the Goldwheat Forest that bordered the southern limits of her hometown of Honeybrook, a forest characterized by its tall white ashes, massive walnut trees, numerous honey locusts and towering silverpines. Unlike the forest that she had visited numerous times as a child and teenager, however, the Paulson Wood lacked any sort of trail system -- even a sparse one that may be useful to the park rangers. Instead, they found themselves trudging through the undergrowth, making an unreasonable amount of noise as they stomped over last year's fallen leaves.

Alice's earlier observation was correct, avian activity was low. Every now and then, birdsong could be heard, in the distance and among the treetops, but very little was seen. Much of the birdsong was identifiable as their current target, Corvisquire, but every now and then, the high pitched peeping of newborn Rookidies could be heard. It was an indication that, despite the insistence of the lingering wintry weather, spring was finally making its return to the highlands.

Finding the Corvisquires was more difficult than Andrea had imagined. She figured they'd stand out pretty easily amongst the grey bark of the ash trees, but the surrounding brightness and angle of the morning sun simply made everything look black and featureless -- perfect camouflage for a Corvisquire. Even worse, the ones they could see were well protected by their height. She could have made an effort to toss a Pokéball and possibly reach that high, but she worried her accuracy at that kind of angle and distance would lead her throws very wide of the mark, and likely scare off their prey in the process.

Eventually, they came across a promising chance at catching one of the Corvisquires -- one was perched on a low branch and appeared to be asleep. The group slowed their approach, taking care to not make too much noise with the leaves below their feet; they stopped about thirty meters away.

"Let's let Andrea try this one," Patrick suggested in hushed tones as Alice grabbed one of the Pokéballs that hung off the belt loop of her uniform skirt. "I brought her out here to showcase her skills."

Alice glanced in Andrea's direction and nodded before returning the Pokéball to its place.

Andrea grabbed her own and grasped it between her two hands. "Ahh, great... Let's see if I remember how to do this, it's been awhile..." She removed her jacket for extra mobility and adjusted her posture; with her body swiveled to the side, she brought her left foot in front of her right and raised the ball to her chest. She held the ball loosely in the tips of her fingers, and with a windup, she lifted her left foot into the air, then brought it back down hard as she threw the ball. The Pokéball curved through the air in a satisfying arc and rocketed towards the unsuspecting bird... only to fall short by a few meters.

The Corvisquire evidently noticed the capture attempt as the ball sailed into its field of view -- before they could react any further, the blackened bird had taken flight. With a hearty crow, it appeared to warn the rest of the Corvisquires in the area, as most of them also took flight and fled the area.

"Gah, shit!" she groaned through gritted teeth. "Sorry about that..."

"Ach, it happens. No biggie," Diarmad said. "Interesting throw, though, lassie! Patrick said ye're some sort of softball superstar?"

"Heh, not really... I was on my university's team for a couple months before they cut me. The coach didn't like my throwing style, despite how hard my pitches were to hit compared to some of the other teams in the league... But the biggest reason I got booted was because I never attended practices. Maybe I should have..."

"I should have asked this earlier, but how long has it actually been since you've thrown a Pokéball?" Patrick asked.

"Uhh... A year, year-and-a-half? I've thrown a tennis ball since then, but not really to practice my technique... Mostly to let out my frustration on a wall."

"Heh. Hmm."

"I'm sure it'll come back to me! I wasn't that far off! Let me try again."

"That fine with you two?" he asked, looking towards Diarmad and Alice.

"Aye, she's right. She was pretty close. Without a warm up er practice, she already seems like a better throw than me, and Ah been doin' this fer years! Course, Ah 'aven't been in proper shape in jus' as long! Bahaha!"

"You're a better throw than me, but I'll back you up if you need me to," Alice nodded in agreement, then raised her binoculars to her eyes again. "I see some more not far away... Follow me."

It didn't take them long to find another prime opportunity to capture one of the Corvisquires. With similar circumstances -- height, distance, angle, wind and an obviously distracted target -- Andrea was ready to try again. She reached towards her backpack and plucked one of the Pokéballs off of its hook.

"Ye got this, lassie," Diarmad said softly.

Once more, she adopted the same posture as before -- left foot in front, right in back. She adjusted her grip, however, opting to grip it fully with her fingers rather than just the tips. With another windup and an additional angled flick of the wrist, she let loose and the Pokéball sailed through the air once more.

"Come on, you bastard..." she thought.

Just as it looked like another miss, the curve of the ball brought it downward and onto the Corvisquire's shoulder. The ball hinged open and impacted the Corvisquire with a red beam of laser light. The Corvisquire's form froze and it began to glow with red energy before being sucked into the open ball. The Pokéball started its fall back to the ground, impacting a few branches before coming to a rest in the soft leaf litter at the base of the tree.

"Yea-ha-ha! There we go!" she said as she straightened her posture.

"Looks like that didn't spook any of the others, either," Alice said, reaching for her waistline again. She unhooked one of the balls and grasped it in her fingers. "Let's try to get some more while we can." She offered the Pokéball to Patrick.

He held up his hand and shook his head. "I can't throw to save my life. Why do you think I brought her?"

"Is that so? Glad to know I'll be doing all the work, then..." Andrea thought as she readied another throw.

Several hours had passed. In that time, they'd scoured the Paulson Wood, explored the shores of several ponds known as the Devil's Bathtub, the Maiden's Mirror and Windswake Lake, trekked through the muddy mires of the Stirling Moor, and took in the sights around the reed-choked Rosewater River delta. Owed largely in part to Andrea's accurate throwing skills, they'd already surpassed the day's quota, capturing the likes of Rookidies and Corvisquires, Cramorants, Pidgeys and Pidgeottos, Murkrows, Swellows and Taillows, and a lone Pelipper.

"We've caught a lot so far, not that it actually proves I'm Institute material..." she thought. "If I don't get a chance to prove my knowledge, is this even worth the time? I'll be fucking furious if I don't get the job because I couldn't prove I know anything..."

In addition to captures, they'd made several confirmed sightings of other local birds, and some that are only seen during seasonal migrations; various Wingulls, a Honchkrow, at least two Mandibuzzes, a Fearow that was feasting on a deceased Magikarp, Vultears that seemed to be circling something in the distant meadows east of the town of Rosewater, and several Windrifts -- ocean birds that are famed for their ability to fly hundreds and even tens of hundreds of kilometers between landings.

"Maybe I've proven myself a little bit. I did identify some of them without needing hints or guidance... Though, really, it was just the easy and obvious ones like Windrift, Wingull, Murkrow and Mandibuzz that I recognized right away... And those last two, someone like me should definitely know!"

As they circled back to the observation tower, Diarmad spoke up. "What say we finally go out into the waters? They're not on our list fer capturin', but maybe ye'd like to see the big ol' birdie this park is named after? Yer not gonnae see 'em anywhere else!"

"Pardon me if I butcher the pronunciation, but, what are they called? Croocascéans?" Patrick asked.

"Aye. Proper pronunciation, too!"

"Pretty sure I've seen some at the larger ponds in Balmore last year."

"Ach! Ah doubt it, but I guess it ahn't impossible..."

Patrick snickered. "Hey, maybe if I confirm, it'll be useful data for the migration patterns study! Hell yeah, I'm down for it. That okay with you, Andrea?"

She nodded as she rotated the joint in her shoulder. "My arm could use a rest. I feel like I've thrown more today than when I used to actually pitch for my softball team."

"Tha's fine by me," Diarmad responded. "Take a rest, lassie, yous earned it."

It was a short journey back to Windswake Lake, a misnamed basin of still water that was more of a large pond than a small lake. The area was characterized by the splintered remains of what were once towering pine trees, but were now just simple spires of eroded wood. Along the tops of numerous trees were large nests constructed of twigs and strands of bark, homes of the heron-like Croocascéan that the park was named after. A look through their binoculars showed that a large majority, if not all of the nests were empty, despite it being prime breeding season for Croocascéans.

While Diarmad used his impressive strength to drag a pair of canoes out into the water, Andrea scanned the tree tops with her binoculars, but couldn't find much of anything. "What am I looking for? All I see are a bunch of empty nests."

"You can't miss them, they're big and they're bright blue and white," Patrick answered. "They should be out there, but... Alice was right with what she said earlier, it is a little cold still. They might be hiding in the reeds for warmth."

With a loud splash, the canoes were ready for use. "Alreet! Hop on, yous twos! Laddie, yer with me. Lassie, yer with Alice. Les go spot some birdies!"

"Is there anything specific I should be looking for?" Andrea asked, inspecting the tops of the trees around her. "I'm not familiar with this Croo... Croocusan or whatever."

"Mmm. Start with the large nests," Alice advised. "Windswake is shared by many species, but Croocascéan builds the largest ones."

"Nothing... Maybe it is too cold."

"It's a possibility. It looks like rain is about to move in, too, and they usually hide from it."

"So there's a chance we might not see them, then..." As she scanned the treetops for the blue and white feathers of the Croocascéans, something else caught her eye. "Oh, hold up. What is that!?" she asked excitedly as she zoomed in on the mysterious, green ribbon-like feather that wrapped around the top of one of the broken trees.

"Find one?" Alice asked.

"I don't think so... I can't see very well from this angle, though. Can we take a left turn here?"

"Sure," Alice answered, maneuvering the oars to initiate a sharp turn towards the left. "Anywhere specific you need to go?"

"Uhh..." she said, unwilling to lower the binoculars and potentially lose sight of what she was looking at. Without the ability to choose a landmark for Alice to move towards, she said, "Let's just keep going on this path for a few seconds. Nice and straight."

Her target slowly came into view. Almost perfectly camouflaged by the dense canopy of the trees behind it sat a large avian Pokémon, the only thing giving it away being the bright green crest of feathers that ran along the top of its head, and the ribbon-like tail feathers that rested on the trunk. A brown rim of feathers, resembling the flared brim of a knightly helmet, shaded much of the creature's upper body from the sun. It was perched atop a large nest, a feature that was easily spotted amongst the still-leafless trees.

"Right here! Stop!" she commanded, prompting Alice to bring the canoe to a loud and shaky stop. "What the hell is that thing?"

"May I see?" Alice asked, reaching her hand outward.

She pulled the strap of the binoculars over her head and handed them to Alice. "See the tallest tree right there? Look two trees to the left, and then about three quarters of the way up it."

Alice followed her instructions carefully until a large smile appeared on her face. "Wow! Never seen anything like that around here before." She lowered the binoculars and raised her radio to her mouth. "Hey, Diarmad. Swing your boat around to us. Looks like Andrea found something interesting that you'll want to check out. As usual, quiet. Don't want to spook it."

The radio buzzed with static as a muffled voice spoke through it.

"What do you think it is?" Andrea wondered.

Alice shook her head. "It looks like a T'laxican Braviary, but they aren't native to this side of the world... And the crown feathers are all wrong."

"Yeah, those feathers make me think of those helmets you see in those old renaissance paintings. You know the ones, right? The old Caballero Conquistadore from the Kingdom of Cordòn," she recalled, before a light bulb went off in her head. "...Is it a Conquetzador, maybe?"

"Conquetzador?" Alice asked, returning the binoculars to her eyes. "That's also a New World bird, but it does look like one..."

"Do you know much about them? I remember reading about them when I was a kid, but I don't remember much."

"Know much about what?" Patrick's voice asked as he and Diarmad's canoe came to a stop a few meters away.

"Andrea thinks she might have spotted a Conquetzador up in that tree over there."

"Conquetzador?" Diarmad asked incredulously. "At this time o' year? This part o' the worl'? While it's not impossible, Ah doubt it. This ahn't really the climate fer 'em, ignoring the fact that they're jungle birds from 'a'f a worl' away."

Patrick put his hand to his chin in thought. "Doesn't Princess Florina of Cordòn make a big deal about owning several of them? One could have escaped."

"Yeah, that's what I was trying to remember," Andrea said. "I used to be super interested in royal families when I was younger and remember reading a lot about the Gracia family of Cordòn. I'm pretty sure they've always kept them as pets, if I recall."

"Like Ah said, not impossible," Diarmad said again, scanning the tree tops for the mystery bird. Eventually he stopped moving, and after a few moments he continued, "Ach. Ah cannae tell fer certain from 'ere. Looks like one, but also looks like a T'laxican Braviary..."

"That's what I thought..." Alice's face lit up with excitement. "We should try to catch it! If it's escaped someone's ownership and found its way here, we can see where it came from."

Andrea reached for the last of her Pokéballs, unhooked one and cupped it in between her hands. "I don't think I'll be able to throw one that high. That tree has to be at least 45 meters tall."

"What about your Ariados?" Patrick asked. "She could pull it down for us, maybe. Stop it from getting away in the process, too."

She looked around the wetlands, trying to find the nearest patch of dry land to safely release Widow onto. "Maybe? We'll need to get to dry land, first. I'm pretty sure spiders don't make good swimmers."

"Okay, Widow. This is going to be a little complex, but I need you to do something for me." She leaned up close beside the Ariados and pointed towards the large nest in the tree, about 100 meters away and 35 meters above the water. "I need you to sneak up on that bird that's up in that tree. I'm not sure which is the best method of doing so, so I'll leave that up to you. Once you get close enough, snare that bird with a silky shot and bring him down close to the water. Got all that?"

Widow's antennae twitched as she stared blankly into the distance.

She sighed. "If I ever get one of my own Pokémon, it needs to have some sort of body language I can read..."

As Andrea climbed back onto the canoe with Alice, Widow shot a strand of web at the nearest tree and anchored it to some exposed roots below her. A long and winding path of tightrope walks was constructed between the patch of dry land and the tree the suspected Conquetzador was roosting in, turning the bog into a hazardous mess of sticky tripwires. As she neared the final tree, the team of bird catchers moved their canoes into position; stopping short of making landfall on the final tree itself, Widow instead climbed up the penultimate tree, taking care to hide herself from the roosting mystery bird during her ascent.

"Forgot how scary smart these things are as hunters... Webster's done a good job training her to be friendly."

Having finally reached a height similar to that of the bird, she skittered to the opposite side of the tree and let loose a jet of silky material. The mystery bird saw the silky strands making their way towards it and stood up before attempting to fly away, but it was too late; it found its left wing snagged by the sticky strands, and with a forceful tug from Widow, it was pulled from the safety of its nest. The nest shredded from the force of the commotion, sending several bright green eggs and a few similarly colored smaller eggs falling to the water with loud splashes.

"Ach... That's no good," Diarmad reeled. "Sorry, wee ones."

The bird thrashed about furiously, letting loose a peculiar cry -- reminiscent of a hissing snake -- as Widow lowered it down to the water, just as Andrea had commanded.

"Come on, stay still!" Andrea said quietly to herself as she aimed her Pokéball at the pendulum-like prey. With a rocketing toss, the Pokéball curved through the air and struck the bird square on the head, sucking it inside with a bright flash of red light. The Pokéball dropped to the water below, gently bobbing on the surface. "Boom! Headshot!"

"You did not just say that," Patrick said with a chuckle as Diarmad pushed their canoe up to the red-topped ball. He scooped the Pokéball out of the water and dried it off with his shirt. "Can't wait to see if our hypothesis is correct."

Diarmad folded his arms and looked up at Patrick in silence. After a few moments, he nodded his head forward. "Well, laddie?"

"Well what?"

"Ahn't ye gonna pull out yer fancy Pokédex and scan the bugger?"

Patrick smiled sheepishly and laughed. "Uhh... Didn't bring one. They're actually kinda outdated."

"Ah realize that! But outdated er not, how're ye gonnae just not bring one? Ye call yerself a researcher?"

"We did bring the next generation of research tools with us -- the R-Kit -- but Emily has it. It's much more useful in her hands right now."

"Ach! Well that's a bit o' a disappointment!"

"We'll know for certain once we get our haul back to Emily," Patrick said, looking down at his watch, then up at the sky. "Speaking of which, what do you say we head back? We've been at this for hours, and I don't like the look of these --" He paused as he felt small raindrops splash against his skin. "-- clouds... that are... moving in around us!"

"Bah, rain! That's fine by me, laddie. Yous twos done well, caught more than lil' Alice and I have ever done on our own!"

"Yeah! Hear that Andrea?" Patrick called out. "Good aim out there today!"

The weather very quickly turned during their voyage back to the boat launch, rapidly progressing from a slight sprinkle of drizzle, to a moderate rain, to a heavy downpour. Alice was visibly perturbed by the rapid change in weather; even with her toasty leggings and the long sleeves under her uniform, the frigid raindrops were starting to get to her. Andrea, on the other hand, enjoyed the rainfall for what it was: a refreshing break from the norm and a chance to enjoy one of her favorite smells, the earthy scent of petrichor.

"It smells so good! It's so relaxing out here!"

"Heh. You're a city girl, aren't you?" Alice asked.

"Kinda. I live in Aughrim, have for four years. But I grew up in the Heartland. I just miss the smell of rain."

"Fair enough." Alice glanced up in her direction and noted the black streaks of mascara running down her cheeks. "Umm. You want my hat? The rain is destroying your makeup."

She dabbed her face with the tip of her fingers and withdrew them to see that they were stained with tones of black and gray; she smiled and laughed nervously as she further examined herself in her phone's selfie cam. "Ooh! I like it... Like tears of joy! That's how much I like rain!"

"You're a weirdo, but that's kinda cute."

As they continued along back towards the boat launch, Andrea watched the swamp with renewed interest. While she figured she was unlikely to see any of the suspiciously-absent Croocascéans, she still wanted to take in the atmosphere a bit. As she scanned the horizon for interesting features, a collection of bright blue feathers caught her attention on a small section of land that loomed out of the rain-lashed water. "Eh? Is that one of those Croocascéans, finally?" she wondered. She adjusted the zoom level on the binoculars to get a better look, only to determine that the feathers weren't attached to any birds; they'd simply been caught up in some thorny bushes. However, the feathers looked out of place -- they were large and unusually bright, even compared to those of tropical birds known for their colors.

"Oh, what's that?" she wondered aloud.

"See something again?" Alice asked.

"Yeah, there's some light blue feathers over there... They look pretty big."

Alice took a brief break from her rowing and peered off into the distance in an attempt to find what Andrea was pointing at, but the distance and the worsening weather prevented her from seeing much of anything. She resumed her rowing. "I can't see anything. It's probably just some Cramorant feathers, we have a big population of them around here."

"Any chance we could take a quick look? We're already soaked."

Alice ceased her rowing again and grabbed her radio. "Diarmad! Our hawkeye thinks she's found something interesting again. Want us to investigate real quick?"

Once again, the radio buzzed with a muffled voice.

"Understood," Alice said, dropping the radio and picking up her rowing pace. "Sorry, not today. Apparently the Alstan Weather Service dropped a thunderstorm warning on us while we were out. We've gotta get out of the water as quick as possible."

"Ah, alright," she said with a tone of disappointment in her voice. She raised the binoculars to her eyes once again and watched as the feathers disappeared into the growing gloom. "Cramorant feathers... I don't know about that, they look awfully big..."

Update notes: June 3, 2023:

• Various tweaks to grammar
• Tightened up Diarmad's dialogue. He has a very difficult voice to keep consistent!

 

[Misfit Angel]

- Content warnings -
[ none! ]

- Content notes -
[ none! ]​

Black Heart, Bright Soul
Chapter 5: Proving Grounds​

"I call out to thee, he who crossed the veil into the mortal realm, with flaming sword and halo of justice, guide me and lend me strength. For The Frozen Monarch has come for us all, and will not rest until the world is an icy ruin."​

~ Excerpt from ​

The Frozen Monarch, written by Andel Diek, 1832​

May 15th
Rosewater Falls, Kingdom of Lanark

pssshhhwhhhshssshhhhh~

"Nnngh..." Andrea grumbled. "What's... What's that noise... Did I... even sleep... doesn't feel like it... What time is it..."

Her eyes still closed, she fumbled around blindly in search of her phone; growing frustrated with her fruitless search, she finally opened her eyes only to be assaulted by the bright sunlight that was flooding in through the half-open blinds.

"Ahhh...! she rasped in pain.

Patrick, seated at the table by the window, looked over. "Morning! Sounds like you're in pain over there."

"Sunlight," she mumbled, covering her eyes with her arm.

"Heh. Oh, that's right, you're a vampire."

"Nghh... What time is it?"

"Just before 7:00, I think?"

She groaned. "Shit... My usual schedule must be catching up with me..." As she turned her phone on, she noticed she had several messages waiting for her:

Fr: 'Webster', 3:34 AM

'Hope I don't wake you up with this!'
'Was looking around and I found out that Nicole Spencer is hosting a fan meet and greet in Aughrim next week. Tickets are going on sale at noon!'
'I know you've been going on and on about wanting to meet her, sounds like this is your chance!'
'Hope you'll be back in time for it!'​

"Hold on, Nicole is..." she mumbled with a soft whisper, rereading the message again. "Holy shit, really?!" She slammed her hand to her mouth as an involuntary squeal started to escape her lips. After taking a moment to compose herself, she replied:

Fr: Andrea Dennison, 7:02 AM

'aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa'
'duuuuuuude are you fucking serious'
'omg omg omg'
'my god damn idol! my god damn heart!'
'kinda get the feeling were done here and ill be home soon but ill have to ask!'​

She pushed herself off of the sofa and cautiously approached Patrick. She took a seat across the table from him and idly glanced at the mountain of paperwork in front of him; from her quick glance, she could see him actively working on a report for the Heron Hook assignment, a personnel review of someone in the biology department named Erika Hope, as well as another buried paper that featured her name at the top.

"You get up quick! Sleep well?" he asked, his attention buried in his paperwork.

"Not really... So, hey, I have a question... I don't want it to seem like I'm growing impatient with what I'm doing here, but I was wondering... How long should I expect to be out here?"

He looked up at her and put his pen down. "Why's that?"

"Well, I just got some great news from back home! Someone important to me is going to be in town, and I wanted to know if I could expect to be home to see them before they leave again."

"Oooh! Sounds fun!" he quipped. "When do you need to be home by?"

"Uhh... four or five days from now? I didn't get an accurate timeframe for when, just 'next week'."

He nodded. "Yeah, we'll have you home in time! We've more than satisfied the tagging requirements -- thanks to you, of course. Emily has determined there's very likely no dangerous diseases out there, and outside of our rogue royalty-owned Conquetzador, migration patterns look pretty normal. There's really not much left for us to do here, so we'll be heading back to Loch Alstan this afternoon."

A gremlin-like squeal of excitement briefly escaped her before her composure returned. "So if we're not heading back to Loch Alstan now, what will we be doing until then?"

"I figured since we're in town for it, why not check out the Petalfall Festival?" he said. "Even if we left after getting some breakfast, we wouldn't get back to the Institute before the place closes, so... Why not treat today like a day off? It's been awhile since Emi and I had a proper one."

She tilted her head in thought. The festival had been ongoing the entire time they were in Rosewater Falls, but she was so focused on her work -- and lazily relaxing when she was done -- that she'd been more or less oblivious to it. "That could be fun... What's this festival about, anyways?"

"When we were off to Heron Hook these past few days, did you notice how the river is covered in flower petals?"

"I did," she answered with a nod.

"The local festival is all about the river. Apparently there's some weird local folklore about the return of spring and fertility, but mostly I'm just interested in the trashy street food, the expensive crafts and seeing the pretty flowers. You probably know this already, but roses are in full bloom around this time of year."

She smiled and stifled a laugh. "Trust me, I know. It'd be hard not to know. Lanark is the 'Land of the Roses' after all. Not to mention the fact that I'm growing some back at home."

"Oh really?"

She turned her phone on and opened up her camera's gallery, then slid it across the table. "Yep. They're my babies! The process of taking care of them has helped me through some tough spots over the past few months. Have a look! Oh, but uhh... Don't swipe around too much? I think I have some pretty recent and unflattering selfies in there from... uhh, when I was trying out some new makeup techniques?"

The first photo he was presented with was a wide shot of a planter that contained a tangled mass of several miniature rose bushes, wrapped around the railing of a residential high rise balcony. An impressive array of colors were on display: red, orange, pink, white, purple and black. As he continued to scroll through the photos, each of them focusing on just single flowers, he said, "Wow, these look amazing! They look like they've been handled by a professional."

"Making sure they survived multiple moves was difficult, but they've been my pet project since I was 16. All those colors? I bred them myself starting with some reds and pinks my mom gave me when I started university, through careful application of Mendelian inheritance."

"Wow, really?" he asked, "Why didn't you mention this on your application?"

She shrugged. "Didn't feel like it was useful? Breeding flowers is pretty boring, even if there is some skill and deep understanding to it. I kinda don't want to get trapped in a greenhouse job, if you know what I mean."

He nodded. "Understood, but any expertise is good expertise at the Reiland Institute," he replied, stopping on a photo of one of her black roses. "Of course," he started with a chuckle. "Of course the goth girl has some black roses."

She smiled. "Those ones are my pride and joy! Took a few years to get them. You should have seen my face when the petals started forming, my roommate said it was the most endearing thing he'd ever seen."

"Too bad I didn't get to see! I've seen you smirk a couple times already, but I'd really love to see what true joy looks like on you."

"Heh, probably not very flattering." She reached out and took her phone back as he offered it. "So, umm... Actually, if we're going to be here a little while longer, maybe we can go back to Heron Hook for a bit instead?"

He raised his eyebrow.

"It's just that... Remember those feathers I pointed out a few days ago? We never actually went back to see what they were. I can't shake the feeling that there's more to them than meets the eye."

"Oh yeah... I'd forgotten about those. What about them caught your eye?"

"They just looked... different! They looked to be too large to belong to a Cramorant, like Alice suggested, but I'm not sure what else they could belong to. I mean, I've got a dumb theory, but I don't think it'd be true... Hey, we came out here to track avian migration patterns, didn't we? Isn't it logical that we investigate even if it turns out to be nothing?"

His eyebrow lowered and the corners of his lips lifted into a smile. "If you wanna keep working on this project, by all means! That's the kind of drive I like. We'll have to get permission from Diarmad first, though. We'll be trespassing if we show up unannounced, and I'm not ready to serve a stiff prison sentence. Gonna go ask what Emi thinks, too." He stood up, pushed his chair in and started walking towards the bathroom.

"Oh, good point." With an answer about her near future in hand, she reached out to her roommate again:

Fr: Andrea Dennison, 7:12 AM

'omg hype'
'unless something unexpected comes up yeah ill be back in time!'
'i dont care what it takes figure out a way to buy me a ticket'
'ill pay you back soon as i can'​

"Hey, Emi!" Patrick called out over the sound of rushing water, shouting through the cracked bathroom door. "Andrea said she wants to head back to Heron Hook today, what do you think?"

Muffled yelling came from within.

Without hesitation, he opened the door further, stepped inside and closed the door behind him. "I said, Andrea --" he replied, before his own voice was overpowered by the running water.

Andrea was shocked by what she saw; the shower in the bathroom was a simple glass stall, rather than something that featured a shower curtain, allowing anyone at least a foggy view of whoever was inside -- a view of far too much, in her opinion. "Serious? What is with this guy?" she thought. "I get that they're close friends, but damn, come on..."

Patrick stepped back out into the main room and closed the door again. "Good news! Emi's excited to go back to Heron Hook if we can get Diarmad's permission. Apparently she's been to the Petalfall Festival a couple times over the past few years, and wasn't super impressed... Kind of a bummer, I was looking forward to it."

"You don't have to come if you wanted to check out the festival. I'm sure Emily and I can manage on our own."

He shook his head. "This may have been Emily's project, but at the end of the day, I'm the ranking member of the Reiland Institute. If you two are going out to the wetlands, I've gotta go, too. Make sure nothing bad happens."

"Suit yourself," she said. "I guess I'd feel safer if something attacks us out there... Strength in numbers, and I'm not the best at commanding Widow."

She opened the browser on her phone and navigated to PikaPedia, an extremely detailed online encyclopedia dedicated to the documentation of just about every important fact and equally useless piece of trivia related to most Pokémon species. She wanted to try to formulate some early theories about what the feathers she saw might belong to; she brought up a list of avian species that featured blue feathers on part of their body. Featuring nearly two hundred species, the list thankfully had photos of a majority of them, enabling her to narrow her search down based on the approximate color that she remembered.

"Taillow and Swellow... Nah, too small, and the colors don't look right. Same with Pelipper. Articuno... That's what I'm thinking, but... It's too unlikely, right? Altaria..? They've got feathers? Huh, I guess that's a possibility! Latios..? Never heard of it, what even the hell is this thing? Looks like a fighter jet! Glastonian Empoleon... Possibly, but I don't think they're a freshwater bird? Cramorant... I don't want to say that cute redhead doesn't know what she's talking about, but I still think they're too small. Could be from a rogue Windrift, they get pretty big... Huh, Corviknights are blue in the Thornwall Isles? Cool, who knew? Might explain their national colors... Huh... so many possibilities already and I'm not even a quarter through the list..."

As she continued to scroll through the list and make mental notes, another thought was on her mind. She looked up across the table at Patrick. "So... I know you and Emily are close friends and are comfortable with each other..."

Patrick perked up and glanced in her direction. "Yeah?"

"Did you really have to go in there while she was, ya know... exposed?"

"She said she couldn't hear me over the water," he answered, then paused to read the expression on her face. "Look, it's cool. Emi and I go way, way back. Wouldn't be the first time I've seen her like that and probably won't be the last. I don't creep on girls in the shower, if that's the picture you're getting. You can ask her yourself if you don't believe me."

She shrugged. "I'll take your word for it. I guess, between friends, it's not a big deal at the end of the day? I just thought it was a little strange, that's all."

A single, jovial exhale escaped his nose. "I get ya. Thinking about it, I probably should have been a little more forthcoming about how Emily and I act around each other. We go back so far, know each other so well, that I don't really think about it most of the time. I'm sorry if we've been making you uncomfortable."

She scrolled through the list further, her focus lost. "Maybe a little. But sometimes I think the discomfort I feel around people is more on me than on how they behave. I'm kinda introverted, so sometimes maybe I'm too... Buh! I don't know what I'm getting at!" She finished with a nervous laugh.

He nodded. "I get it! I'm not judging you over it, don't worry. Just remember that you can speak up if things get to be a little too much. I don't bite."

The very same assurance she had gotten from Emily; she wanted to, but she wasn't sure she could believe it. Not from the man who'd already made numerous questionable comments.

"Do you remember where your mystery feathers are?" Patrick asked as he rowed the boat aimlessly through the wetlands.

Andrea examined the trees around her in an attempt to jog her memory, but they all looked the same: dreary and dead. "Umm... I know I spotted them on our way back from where we captured that Conquetzador. If we can just find our way back there, we should be in the right area."

"Wish I had Diarmad's sense of direction..." he mumbled.

She raised her binoculars to her eyes, on the lookout for the one key clue that would tell them they were in the right area: Widow's webs. While she was uncertain of how long Ariados webs lasted in the wild before breaking down and falling apart, she knew from living with Webster and Widow that indoors, their webs could persist for a couple months before they became too fragile to support the weight of the massive spiders. Surely a few days out in the rain, wind and sunlight wouldn't completely ruin them, she assumed.

Her theory was proven correct when she eventually spotted the webs pulled taught between the featureless trees. As she guided them closer and closer to them, she noticed something alarming: two Pidgeots and a Ledyba had been caught on the sticky lines over the course of the past few days. She was immediately overcome by a sense of guilt; her actions were indeed useful towards completing the requirements of the refuge's tagging program, but they also put the lives of the local wildlife in danger.

"Well that's not good," she said. "We've gotta cut them free! I don't want to upset the balance around here..."

"Huh..." Patrick murmured as he brought the canoe to a stop below one of the Pidgeots. "I dunno how we'll fix this. We don't have any spare Pokéballs to capture them with."

"I'm more concerned with getting rid of the webs before they snag other Pokémon... Maybe this is a dumb question... but did you happen to bring a hunting knife along?"

He motioned for Emily to hand him the backpack. "I did, actually. Rule #1 of going out into the wilderness is being prepared for the worst."

"Heh... Yeah..." she said, recalling her experiences in the Glastonian wilds the previous summer, where her and her research partner were 100% unprepared for any unexpected wilderness survival experiences. She watched nervously as the boat came to a stop near one of the trapped Pokémon; the Pidgeot thrashed about weakly in an attempt to free itself, but it was clearly too exhausted and hungry to get anywhere.

With his knife in hand, Patrick stood up and called out to the trapped Pidgeot. "Hey there, big guy! Sit tight, we'll have you out of there soon." He tried his best to reach the webbing, but it was just barely out of reach, and the boat wobbled a bit too much for his comfort as he stood on the rim of it.

"Careful, Pat. I can feel the boat getting ready to flip," Emily warned.

"Yeah..." He dropped back down to the base of the boat, looked up and down the smooth bark of the tree and along the sticky tightrope of webbing and slid the knife back into its sheathe. "Hmm. Emi, you want to get on my shoulders and see if you can cut this stuff down?"

"Not really. Seems like a bad idea," Emily said with a fervent shake of her head. "This boat is way too wobbly."

"How about you, Andrea?"

She looked up at the webbing, just out of reach. "Uhh..." She grabbed the hem of her dress and pulled it taught against her legs. "I dunno... I'm not exactly dressed for a ride on someone's shoulders."

"Yeah. I figured you wouldn't be comfortable with it because of that, that's why I didn't ask you first."

She watched with remorse as the trapped bird thrashed and thrashed to no avail, then sighed. "I'll do it though. I caused this problem, I have to set it right."

"You sure? We can get Diarmad to come out and take care of it, dude's more than tall enough."

"I need to learn to put my discomfort aside. Let me hop on."

With a shrug, he tilted his head and spread his hands in a vaguely confused manner before handing the sheathed knife over to her. "Let's see if we can keep our balance first before we try this. If we start to fall, toss the knife overboard. I don't want you to mangle Emi's beautiful face on your way down."

Emily silently responded by stepping as far back as she could.

"Right... Here we go," she said, stepping one leg over his shoulders, adjusting the bottom of her dress as best she could, and then stepping the other over. "Hope I'm not too heavy!"

He lifted her skyward, fighting to maintain his balance at first against her weight and then the motions of the boat next. "Nope!" he strained. "You're good! I got ya!" Bracing himself against the tree for support, he gave her the go ahead to try cutting the webbing with the knife.

"Try not to let it touch you as it falls down. These things are stickier than glue traps." She gently slid the knife out of its sheathe and reached up towards the sticky strands above her. After several minutes of hacking through the thick rope of compounded silky strands, the webbing had lost enough structural stability to unravel and fall apart on its own, sending it fluttering down into the water. She nearly lost her balance as the trapped Pidgeot bursted with energy in another attempt to escape, but its wings were too tangled to be of any use. "Shhh, shh shh shhhhh!" she whispered consolingly towards the snared bird as Emily slowly and cautiously pushed the canoe towards the web's remaining anchor point. "It's okay. I'll make sure you can fly again."

The Pidgeot eyed her both suspiciously and fearfully as she raised the knife and began to saw away at the other end of the web, all the while continuing to offer comforting platitudes. Eventually, the web gave way entirely, dropping the Pidgeot into the canoe with a hearty thud, but it appeared unharmed and relatively calm. A quick examination by Emily indicated that the Pidgeot would probably need some medical attention to untangle it from the remains of the web strand, and that they should probably bring it back to the lodge for Diarmad's team to take care of.

"This boat is about to get crowded real fast..." Patrick remarked as the Pidgeot patiently perched on the end of the canoe. "Onto the next one, I guess."

Andrea sat down beside the Pidgeot and reached for the backpack of supplies; her hand plunged inside and dug around before returning with one of the granola bars she bought for the walk home. She undid the wrapping around it and broke it into several pieces, offering them to the hungry bird one by one. "There ya go... It's not much, but hopefully that helps. You must be hungry!"

As he guided the canoe along, Patrick remarked, "I'm really proud of you for stepping up and taking care of this, Andrea. You've got a good heart and a great work ethic! Love your drive."

"Heh... Thanks. I'm responsible for this. It's the least I can do."

Two hours had come and gone rather slowly; Windswake Lake had been meticulously cleared of Widow's webbing and the three affected Pokémon were transported safely back to Heron Hook's lodge for medical treatment. With the distractions behind them, they could finally get on with their initial objective: searching for and identifying Andrea's mystery feathers. After a thorough search of the area, Andrea finally found the striking streaks of blue against the dismal backdrop of the wetlands.

After they made landfall, she quickly approached and picked up one of the feathers, finding it cold to the touch; it wasn't frigid like snow, but reminded her of the childhood sensation she'd feel when she'd change into a fresh set of clothes after taking them out of the freezer during the hottest summer months. As she examined it closer, she noted that the central shaft of the feather -- the base of the quill especially -- was much colder to the touch than the rest of it. The most interesting feature of the feather was the shimmering glitter effect along the vane; rather than sparkle as it caught the sunlight like she would expect, it sparkled without her moving the feather at all.

"Looks like your initial guess was right, these definitely don't belong to a Cramorant," Patrick said as he examined one of the feathers more closely. "They're cold... Colder than the air around us, at least."

"I had a theory about where they came from, but it's so outlandish and I don't want to look dumb or too hopeful," she said.

"Dumb and hopeful is at the core of scientific research. What are you thinking left these here?"

"Well... When I saw the color, I immediately thought Articuno. But... This far south? I really doubt it."

"Articuno, huh..." he mused. "Does seem a little unlikely."

Emily knelt down beside her and ran her finger along the quill of the feather. "That's probably not as farfetched as you'd think. Thanks to its mild climate, it's sometimes easy to forget just how far north Lanark actually is, and the north is Articuno's home. There's an old folk tale passed down among Clan McTrodadh -- my ancestors -- about how Articuno would frequently visit the highlands centuries ago. It's... been a lifetime ago since I heard the story, so I can't remember exactly what it was about. All I remember was that it would bring blizzards that interrupted clan warfare, much to the annoyance of the warrior clans."

He nodded. "Ha! And folklore usually is based at least loosely on fact... Hey, hand me the R-Kit, would ya?"

Emily reached for the purse-like object that dangled from the strap around her shoulder, pulled the strap over her head, and held it in front of her. The extensive screen on the object lit up as she tapped on it. "Still not entirely used to these things..." she commented as a series of lights on it began to blink and flash in a very obvious pattern before she handed it over. "Hopefully you've figured them out, because I haven't. They were shit, but I miss those old Pokédexes..."

"What is that?" she asked. "I thought that was your purse this whole time!"

"It's an R-Kit."

Her eyebrow raised. "R-Kit? I heard you mention it before, but..."

"Researcher's Kit. They're the future of our profession," Patrick chimed in. "Imagine your smart phone, but several times more powerful when it comes to computation."

She giggled. "That's not hard to imagine, mine's a cheap piece of crap."

"Fine, imagine the hottest new smart phone, but several times more powerful. But the R-Kit isn't just about computation power, it's also got an advanced sensor array on it and can detect all sorts of stuff depending on how you configure it."

"Oh! Like one of those scanners on that Star Trek show? Holy shit, that's so cool -- I mean -- nerdy, but cool."

He tilted his head in thought. "Yeah, I'd say this is the big step, for the real world at least, in that direction. Course, they're not quite like those magic tricorders, they're kinda unreliable sometimes."

"Try most of the time," Emily quipped. "It's a neat piece of tech, I'll give it that, but I don't know why Dr. Reiland puts so much faith in them. They're so janky and difficult to use."

"You just have to get used to them, that's all... Let's see here..." He tapped away at the screen for nearly a minute, bringing up all sorts of prompts and menus before a concentrated beam of soft blue light erupted from the central scanner on the top of the device. The beam made contact with the feather and rapidly swept across the surface of it multiple times, following every shape and contour.

"Okay! Here are the results! Disclaimer! The Catrianna Corporation R-Kit Model NX-34b is still in testing -- laboratory analysis should be conducted to confirm the information provided! Upon doing so, please fill out a --" the R-Kit said in a robotic-yet-feminine voice.

"Yes, yes, beta tech, I get it. Do you have to say this every god damn time we use you?" he asked, poking at the nagging pop ups related to what it was saying.

The screen lit up with an overabundance of information; size, estimated weight and mass, spectrometry, latent electromagnetic readings, thermal readings and finally, a field confirmation of Andrea's theory: the feather did indeed -- theoretically, at least -- belong to an Articuno!

"Well I'll be!" Patrick stated. "You've got some good eyes there, Andrea. You said you spotted these during that downpour a few days ago?"

"Mhmm!" she hummed with a nod.

"Hey R-Kit, tell me about Articuno feathers. Specifically, tell me about the thermal properties of the feathers."

"Due to the species they come from being a rare sight, Articuno feathers are peculiar specimens even in the modern era and are poorly understood. Most current scientific understanding of Articuno feathers is based on examination of a pair of specimens recovered in 2017 by Dr. Edelweitz of the Cold Station 17 Cryogenic Research Center at the Santa Nicola Ice Reef. Observations of the recovered feathers indicate an average length of --"

"Told you, unreliable. They get some things right, but they can't seem to figure out specific requests like that," Emily said with a shake of her head.

"Yeah... Probably my least favorite thing about it. Guess we just wait it out and hope the information comes up sooner rather than later?"

"Does it just talk to you, or does it display the text on screen?" Andrea wondered.

"Just talks, believe it or not. That's the first feedback I gave to the company that makes these things. Hopefully it's fixed soon, but I can't believe it shipped with such a critical quality of life issue."

The R-Kit waffled on about Articuno feathers for nearly two minutes before it got to the information that Patrick requested. "Long mentioned in historical texts, legends and local folklore from all along the Arctic Circle, Dr. Edelweitz's observations confirmed a peculiar fact about Articuno feathers: they have remarkable endothermic properties that are of great interest to biological research, heavy industry, space exploration initiatives, government agencies and cryogenics companies. While Dr. Edelweitz was unable to determine the age of the feather he recovered, it remained cold to the touch even after a week indoors at the research center, and continued to absorb small amounts of heat from the surrounding environment for months until it finally began to degrade and fall apart. Such properties offer challenges to the laws of thermodynamics as we understand --"

"Huh... No telling how old these are, then... Could have been here for years, could have been dropped last week."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Andrea asked.

"Well, if these feathers have been shed recently, it could represent an amazing opportunity for scientific research, and also a very, very big problem. Articunos are not known to be friendly, and if one has made its nest near a major population center... I don't think I need to explain why that could be a problem."

"If one is around here... Could also explain this weather, huh?" Emily asked, looking skyward. "I don't know how you feel, Pat, but it's fucking freezing this year, even in my opinion."

He nodded. "Winter's had a sting in its tail this year, that's certain." He handed the feather back to Andrea, then slung the R-Kit over his shoulder. "Let's have a look around, see if we can find anything else. Part of me is hoping these feathers just blew in from up north during a freak windstorm... But if we find even more..."

She followed the two as they went further inland and spun the feather in her fingers again, captivated by the glittery effect along its vane. "I was right... Lucky guess? Whatever, he seems happy with me so far! Hopefully I can keep this up..."

"Ugh... this thing is making my fingers hurt," Andrea complained as they trudged through the wetlands. "It'd be a bad idea to stick it in Emily's backpack, wouldn't it?"

Patrick shrugged. "I'd rather not risk damaging it. I figure we'll be back on the boat soon so we can give your fingers a rest."

"Or one of you could hold it..." she thought. "I guess it's not just the cold that's bothering me. Some half-wit university dropout is holding onto an important scientific find, it's pretty wild to think about."

Patrick's pace slowed and he looked back at her. "...Wait, university dropout?"

The feeling of her fingers slipped her mind completely as something else froze: her heart. She realized she'd never mentioned her academic status to Patrick and just let slip something huge that could sink her chances.

Something from my past is going to slip through and sink this chance, I just know it.

"How come you never mentioned that?" he asked.

"U-uh... Well... You... you never asked?" she bleated. She tried to steel herself and not fold under the pressured situation she could sense herself waltzing into. "When did I send my application? December 20th of last year? I was technically still at university then. I was still... still..."

"Even then, that's a pretty big thing to not mention when we talked on the phone about your application. But I guess you're technically right, I never did ask. So I'll ask now, what happened?"

Though she felt she did a good job with the assignment, made some decent first impressions and showcased that she's bundled with an assortment of skills, talents and fields of expertise, she could see the opportunity slipping through her fingers just as she initially feared. Her first instinct was to try to weasel her way out of the discussion with a clever web of lies, but it felt impossible to craft something like that on the fly -- especially one that wouldn't fall apart over a hopefully lengthy career. On the other hand, she still felt honesty was a valuable skill to have in a professional environment, even if she willfully stomped that ideal into the dirt just a few days prior. It was time to try.

"Well... Uhh... Truth is, I didn't just drop out. I was expelled halfway through January." She watched his expression change from curiosity to worry. "Now! Before you run away with that thought, I can explain. I'm not ready to get into the exact details, since I'm still working out the bad vibes... But six months ago, my life completely fell apart at the seams. I lost my friends, then I lost my job, and then I lost two people very, very important to me... I could barely get out of bed. They knew what had happened, but the university staff didn't seem to care. Rather than reach out and try to help, they threw me overboard after I missed the first couple weeks of classes. I think I do, but they figured I didn't have what it takes to pursue a PhD program."

"Huh. Sorry to hear that," he replied. "So I guess it was just shit timing that your problems started piling up?"

"Perfect storm, more like. I had everything taken away from me within a span of a week and a half. I... I didn't know how to deal with it, other than crawl into bed and hope time healed those wounds. Wish I could go back and drag myself back out, but... what's done is done. I'm ready to move on and make something of myself again."

"Rough. Looks like you're on your feet again, though?"

"I'd say so. Once in a life time shot at my dream job or not, I would not be here if I hadn't been put back together. I'm here to dive into the deep end of life and prove myself."

"Good to hear!"

Just a few minutes had passed by before further signs of an Articuno's supposed presence were found -- even more feathers, and more gruesomely, the tattered remains of a Dubwool that had been picked clean down to the bones. Additional research into Articunos hinted at a carnivorous diet, though the details were understandably scant. The Dubwool's presence on an island in the middle of the remote wetlands was alarming, and a solid indicator that something large, carnivorous and capable of flight had abducted it -- from a nearby pasture, most likely -- and made quick work of it as a meal.

A short distance away, in some dense overgrowth on the edge of the island, was a large nest; approximately four meters in diameter, the nest was constructed of a variety of materials ranging from mud and grasses to bulky fallen branches. The nest was surrounded by more feathers that matched the appearance of the one that Andrea was carrying, but the nest itself was for the most part empty.

"Before we get closer..." Patrick said, raising his binoculars to his eyes. After a few moments of observation, he lowered them again to reveal a look of abject concern. "Alright, we're dropping this. We have to leave. This is definitely an Articuno nest, and if there is an Articuno around here... Those things are downright deadly if you encroach on their territory."

"What about --" Andrea started.

"You two head back for the boat. Grab a few more feathers while you're at it, too. I'll be right behind you -- I'll get a picture or two first, but we all have to leave," he said, raising the binoculars back to his eyes. After a moment, he lowered them again and looked back at the two. "That wasn't a simple request! That was an order, now!"

The two stared at each other for a brief moment before the lead in their boots had vanished. Emily led the way as they headed for the boat with a light jog, and when their motions allowed for it, they picked up feather after feather along the way. In very short order, they reached the boat, deposited their frigid treasure, and began to push it back out into the tranquil waters.

"Well that's a bit of an anti-climax..." Andrea lamented as she counted the feathers they had gathered up -- eleven in total.

"Maybe so, but he's right. Lollygagging around an Articuno's nest is probably dangerous stuff and Dr. Reiland isn't in the business of doing dangerous work unless it pays well and her staff are ready for it. We're definitely not ready to face off against something like that."

"Fair enough. I take it that means if I get the job here, I don't have to worry so much about being killed on the job? I hear about that risk when it comes to trainers, but I don't know if it applies to scientists much."

"Not at all. By virtue of not being in the office, I think the most risk you'll ever face is field work like this, and even then, you'll have backup to keep you safe. But it's not often new hires get to go on field assignments unless it's some sort of proving ground."

"Heh. I'm more than fine with lab work."

"Catch!" Patrick's voice called out as he approached the boat at high speed. The binoculars sailed through the air in a satisfying arc, straight into Emily's awaiting hands. He hopped onto the boat almost carelessly, nearly losing his balance as he dropped a few fragments of what appeared to be egg shells onto one of the seats in the boat. "Right, off we go!"

Andrea idly grabbed one of the shell fragments. Like the feathers, it was also cold to the touch, and its glittering outer surface resembled sand paper in texture. "Not in the business of doing dangerous work, huh?"

"Wha?" he asked as he started to row the boat away.

"Emily was just telling me that Dr. Reiland isn't in the business of doing dangerous work, and you go up and poach some egg shells from the nest of a giant killer bird?"

"She's not, and I'm generally not, but... I like to take calculated risks when I can. Sure, things can be dangerous, but when the potential for knowledge is equally great, why not reach out and take that risk?"

"I'm not sure I agree, but... I was just the shadow on this assignment. Inexperienced, unqualified. What do I know?"

He looked over at Emily, smiled and shrugged, then returned his focus to the rowing. "That's enough fun for today! Let's get outta here, inform Diarmad of our findings, and then head home. That sound like a plan?"

Initializing R-Kit... Identification routine launched, scanning... One subject found. Entry found for Articuno. Detailed information can be found below:

Articuno, the Frozen Monarch Pokémon

Articuno is a very rare species of avian Pokémon that is not well documented. Despite dozens of sightings of the species since the Caelton Medieval Period, only a handful of encounters have been documented in detail and verified in modern times. Only one report of the species being captured has been verified, a specimen belonging to the Iron Mother, Tzarina Yulia Raikov -- a specimen that was never researched by scholars and escaped captivity during the unrest that saw the fall of the tzars and the founding of the Iron Union of Kanetsk.

Known habitats that Articuno inhabits include the polar ice north of the arctic circle, tundra-borne mountain peaks and valleys, as well as the extensive and oft-unexplored boreal forests of the Iron Union of Kanetsk in the east and the Divine Republic in the west. Sightings outside of these areas are extremely rare, but Articuno has been sighted near the peak of Mount Otsukimi in the Kanto region of Tohjo, the Yulong-La Valley that straddles the borders of the Republic of Sakala and the People's Republic of Shinikara, and even as far south as the Wintersbite Valley of the tropical Storm Islands.

In various mythologies around the world, Articuno is deeply associated with bitter winters, record snowfall and even miniature ice ages. The Subarctic Ice Age of the 1860s that paralyzed the Empire of Lanark and led to the deaths of an estimated three million people in the Empire's Home Territories is thought to have been directly caused by the appearance of an Articuno during the coronation ceremony of King Edwin II, as the temperatures around the northern hemisphere plummeted substantially in the following weeks leading to the worst winter on record. Furthermore, oral tradition from the polar Iqal tribes states that Articuno was much more common approximately 20,000 years ago, and their activities were directly responsible for the ice age that wiped out most prehistoric life.

Update notes: June 3, 2023:

• Various tweaks to grammar
• Slight change to the lore dump about Articuno and the Not Russian™ lady. Changed her name so it's less repetitive. Her final name isn't exactly Russian (more Russianized Japanese) but whatever

 

[Misfit Angel]

- Content warnings -
[ sexually suggestive content and innuendos ] :: [ depictions of workplace sexual harassment ]

- Content notes -
The contents of this chapter are largely identical to that of Interlude: wiltedlilacx of Land of the Roses 2.0, with a few minor changes and additions.​

Black Heart, Bright Soul
Interlude I: wiltedlilacx​

"I don't trust this social media stuff, I tell ya. Nowadays, seems like ya can know more about a girl within five minutes of reading than I know about my own wife, and we been married 58 years!"​

~ Avery Wilkins, former Governor of the State of Kensa, of the Divine Republic​

​

May 16th
Loch Alstan, Kingdom of Lanark

"Let's see... Potential field assignments..." Patrick mumbled as he browsed through a list of e-mails that had been piling up over the past week. "Hopefully we've gotten some interesting ones this time..."

Expedition to Mount Gelzaya to save critically endangered Gogoat subspecies
fr: [email protected]

"Hard pass. Not sending my employees to an active war zone..."

Fwd: Fwd: Fwd: Re: Reports of paranormal activity in the Doranshire area
fr: [email protected]

"Ghost hunting? Sounds fun, but not really what we do here..."

Marine biologist needed for diving expedition to Kensacola's Thousand Mile Reef
fr: [email protected]

"Oh, nice! Wish I went into marine biology... I'll forward that one down to Joe..."

Patrick: need you to coordinate biology department with biochemistry department to test effectiveness of new synthetic anti venom
fr: [email protected]

"How'd this get mixed in with my field assignments? Whatever, noted..."

Sensitive Eckhardt Steel contract. Contact me for further details.
fr: [email protected]

"No information? Tempted to pass, but they do pay well... Wonder what a steel foundry would need from the biology department, though..."

He started to type up a response to the email before he was interrupted by a knocking sound coming from his open door. He perked up and looked towards the door to find Emily standing there, a smile on her face. "Oh! Hey there! What's up?"

She wandered into the room with a look of bemusement. "You look a little stressed. Let me guess: catching up on the past week?"

"Yeah. Right now I'm working on lining up some field assignments for the next few months."

"Oh? I can come back later, then."

"Nonsense! Sit down!" he said. He slouched in his chair a bit and clumsily pushed the chair on the opposite side of the desk outward with his foot. "I could use a distraction."

Emily smiled and laughed as she sat down.

"So! Andrea made it to her train on time, I trust?"

"Mhmm!"

"How'd it go with her last night? She seemed lost and scared when I left for home."

"It went well! She seemed a little uncertain about staying the night, but warmed up a bit once she saw how cozy my apartment is... You know, after she got done comparing it to a broom closet! She's a well mannered guest! We talked a bit, about what it's like to work here, our hopes and dreams, favorite Pokémon, stuff like that."

"You actually got her to talk?"

"Hey, don't take it the wrong way, but she seems a lot more talkative when you aren't around."

"I must have made her nervous." A sly smile appeared on his face. "I have that effect on the ladies."

Emily smiled. "No you don't. You make her nervous because you are the gatekeeper that stands between her and the job she has wanted her entire life. Not because of your... 'irresistable charm.'"

"Oww! Dagger to the heart, Em! You know I was only kidding."

"Yes, I know, but be careful with that humor... It would be a shame if she did start working here, and you made her uncomfortable enough to reconsider staying. She's been asking questions about how you conduct yourself on the job, don't chase her away."

"Has she?" he asked with a quizzical expression. "Ah, come on. I'm not that bad, am I?"

"Sometimes you ride the line. When Sonia first started here, she thought you were coming onto her. I know you're always excited to have a pretty lady on board, but... ya know, just watch yourself."

"Hmm," he grumbled. "Just excited to see women getting into the sciences, that's all."

"Anyways! Speaking of Andrea, I actually came to talk about her! You'll never guess what I found during my morning break."

"Hmm... Hit me with it. What have you got?"

She handed her phone over. "I found her Instaglam account."

"Did you?" He grabbed the phone and reached for his reading glasses. Bright glare flickered on his lenses as he scrolled down the page; row upon row of brightly lit and similarly angled selfies passed by, lightly sprinkled with nature photos in between.

Emily tilted her head as she waited for him to respond, and then eventually sighed. "This was a mistake, wasn't it? Don't make me regret showing you this..."

He eventually nodded. "...Wow. This just goes on and on and on! She is very proud of her cleavage, isn't she?"

She giggled. "Well, mmm... If I had those? I probably would be, too."

"I'm surprised she only has a dozen followers with pictures like these."

"Having boobs -- covered up ones at that -- isn't the magic ticket to a massive social media following, you know. They could be her friends... Or... creeps from half the world away. You never know."

"True." He replied as he handed the phone back. "Okay, I'll bite. How'd you find her? It's not like 'wilteclilacx' is a name you could readily attach to her..."

"I didn't commit it to memory or anything, but now that I think about it, didn't I see that exact name in your inbox a couple weeks ago?"

"Oh!" he said as he scrolled through his inbox. "Well how about that, I guess it is a name you could easily tie to her..."

"You are shockingly oblivious sometimes..."

"Yeah, whatever! Usually we find our applicants' social media because they just... give it to us. She never did."

"Isn't that optional, though?"

He nodded. "Still, though. Teach me your detective skills, in case I need to look at any new applicants anytime soon."

"Well, finding her wasn't hard. I noticed that she was taking lots of pictures while we were on the road, and I wanted to see if she had anything interesting. It was a stab in the dark, but I searched Instaglam for the #Nature, #LochAlstan and #RosewaterRoad tags and her account was the first result that popped up. And, like most people, she uses the same account name for everything: FriendZone, Chatter, Bloggo... she's even got a HotShot account! And they're all linked on her Instaglam. Wouldn't be surprised if she's got even more out there under that name..."

He leaned back and laughed. "Ah, the wonders of social media! Goodbye privacy!"

"I don't know, Patrick... Can you really have a reasonable expectation of privacy when you connect everything like that, and then post everything on publicly viewable accounts?"

"Of course not. I wish people would be more careful about that... But it is extremely helpful in my line of work as a chief of staff."

She scrolled through the photos herself. "Other than her choices in shitty, overpriced cosmetics, and maybe a bad lack of self-esteem, I guess I don't see anything bad here. I was just curious to see if having her social media would be useful. Maybe you'd like to dive into her personal life a bit, see what she's all about? I assume you're still considering her application, I mean."

"Yeah, I'm still thinking it over. I might take a cursory glance at her, see if she's got any radioactive personality traits, but I'm not going to stalk this poor girl and scour every word she's ever written online. She may be loose with her privacy, but that doesn't mean I have to take advantage of that."

"That's fair."

He grabbed his own phone, found his way back to Andrea's Instaglam profile and started scrolling through the seemingly endless list of selfies. "So, Instaglam tits aside, did you find anything interesting?" He furrowed his brow with the slightest hint of discomfort as he continued. "They just keep going and going... I'm not finding much in between."

She shook her head. "I guess the most interesting thing I found was at the top -- the roadside weeds that she's been uploading over the past couple days. I find that strange... Did her application mention if she's into botany at all? She's listed a lot of scientific names for some rather unremarkable looking plants."

He shrugged. "She didn't make any mention of it. That said, I know she's got a green thumb -- she showed me photos of some rose bushes she's been taking care of over the last few years, and she's managed to breed some black ones all by herself."

The achievement was evidently lost on Emily. "Huh. Neat. Well, do you know if any of that binomial nomenclature under her photos is accurate? I know next to nothing about plants myself, other than fwowers pwetty."

He scanned through several of the photos and took note of each scientific name that Andrea had left for them, but he was unable to make any positive connections. "Uhh... Not off the top of my head. Plants aren't really my area of expertise, either. I could have someone down in the greenhouse look things over." He lowered his phone and looked back up at her. "Speaking of reports and speaking of Andrea, I've asked her to write up a report on our findings at Heron Hook and send it to me over the next few days."

She giggled. "Already putting her to work? Is that what she was working on last night?"

"Oh, already! Good! I mostly want to see her methodology and writing style before Dr. Reiland and I make a final decision about hiring her. If she needs improvements, we can work with her on them."

"Can you forward it to Dr. Venger when you get it? Avian migration patterns aren't really a medical issue, but he might find something useful out of it."

"Sure thing."

Rapid vibratrion and a loud beeping sound prompted her to look down at her watch. "Ahhh... Break's over already? I should probably get back..."

"Good luck."

"Thanks. Still coming over after work?"

"Yep."

"I hope that having Andrea's social media accounts ends up being useful! And hopefully in a positive way, she really is a sweet girl."

"Despite appearances, she is, isn't she? I'm sure I'll find a use for this! Thanks."

She made her way towards the door, but stopped and turned around. "Umm... If it gets awkward -- you know, considering the types of photos she has -- let me know, okay? It wouldn't be quite as weird for me, so I could look through her profiles for you."

He laughed. "I appreciate it, but that's not necessary. I'll be fine."

As the door closed behind Emily, he started to look through the other social media profiles that were linked in her Instaglam biography. His first stop was FriendZone, a priceless treasure trove of willfully surrendered personal information. A cursory glance at it didn't tell him much that he didn't already know from the previous few days that he spent with her: she was obsessively interested in gothic fashion and media to the point of possible crazed hysteria; nerdy hobbies that ranged from board and card games to low budget classic sci-fi movies and slasher flicks were evidently how she spent most of her idle time; if she had any hot button political opinions, she appeared to keep them far away from her social media; and while he was already aware that she previously worked as a waitress at a vampire-themed restaurant and rave venue, the immense level of enthusiasm and enjoyment she had for her time there was new to him -- something he found curious, as she was aggressively secretive about the subject when asked about it.

Other tales weren't explicitly stated, but as he started to piece them together, her profile began to paint a less positive portrait of her. She'd apparently gone through a bad breakup at the start of the year, and had been single ever since -- a fact that she was loudly miserable about, since they were just months away from tying the knot. A yellow flag was raised when he learned that she'd actually been fired from her previous job at the vampire restaurant shortly before the breakup, but her rants and stories about her dismissal didn't offer any useful insight into why -- just bitterness. Further back, she seemed to have an on again, off again feud with an ex-boyfriend named Larson; he quickly found himself siding with Andrea in the feud, based on the awful, unspeakable and frankly unbelievable things the man had been saying about her. He couldn't help but worry that it was easy to get under her skin, however, and she was downright venomous when she was angry.

"Right... If I do bring her onboard, I'll have to make it clear that she needs to be patient and keep her anger in check as she settles in. Don't want her blowing up on anyone if she feels she's starting to sink," he thought. "Maybe reach out to this company and see why they fired her, too... If she's got serious anger issues... Well... Can't have that."

His glances even further back found him in uncomfortable territory -- the days before she finished high school. Finding that most of her activity from this era was mostly petty schoolgirl gossip, he was tempted to turn back; he felt like he wouldn't find anything else that would help him form an accurate judgment of her character, so he went back to her Instaglam account to seek out her next profile, only to find himself captivated by her selfies again. "...gonna have to tell her dress a little more modestly, too. Those distractions -- uhh, those assets could distract a lot of people, especially if she wears that spiderweb dress again."

Her account on Chatter -- a platform that challenged its users to share quick thoughts and updates with a limited amount of characters -- was anything but chatty. Across two years, she'd only sent out five messages, all of which were directed at an upcoming Rose League championship contender and fashion designer by the name of Nicole Spencer -- and seemingly ignored. Hoping to find something more valuable, he browsed the list of accounts she was following; various faculty members at the University of Aughrim, indie musicians, fashion models, lewd artists, a few politicians from the capital city of Aughrim as well as her sleepy hometown of Honeybrook, and an arachnid facts bot all popped up -- hardly useful for getting a quick gauge on if she had any problematic beliefs or associations with bad folks.

"Potential anger problems aside, she seems pretty normal so far..."

His next visit was to her Bloggo account, but he was met with disappointment; only those who were logged in could view her blog. Rather than spend company time setting up an account, he set it aside to investigate later when he got home. His investigation of her HotShot account -- a service for streaming video games to viewers from around the world -- also brought up very little of interest. Within five minutes, all he could tell was that she was a woefully obscure and infrequent player of Defense of the Legends, and a bad one at that. Like her Instaglam photos, she seemed to emphasize her physical assets rather than her gameplay; nearly half of her video feed featured herself wearing next to nothing, rather than the game she was playing.

"Ha, titty streamer, huh? Well, if it pays the bills... Though by the sound of things, it doesn't..." he mumbled before he smirked and he shook his head. "Right! Hopefully the way she lays out her reports and documents her findings isn't completely garbage... If she doesn't have anger issues, that's the last hurdle she has to clear before we bring her in and see how she fits, far as I'm concerned..."

Update notes: June 3, 2023:

• Updated the quote in the chapter heading to make explain who Avery Wilkins is, rather than attribute the quote to some random boomer redneck
• Tweaks to grammar
• Updated the dialogue slightly to better seed some future plotlines in store for Andrea, as well as her past.
• Likewise, Patrick got some updated dialogue in an attempt to muddy some of his behavior and opinions.

 

[System Error]

All right, let's get to this before I fall way too far behind because holycrap rocket mode.
- That feel when I get the feeling the whole region is a tourist trap
- as be groaned <- Yar, ye be walkin the plank for that typo
- Well this guy is Irish as a jig
- I forget the joke Aqua Teen Hunger Force made about the HIghlander but if I didn't I'd put it here
- Can't think of much to comment on the bird scene.
- "Ah' use the term 'trails' loosely, lassie."
- But is the plural of Grumpoose supposed to be Grumpeese? Also is this Canada all of a sudden?
- Randomly, from missing Poke Balls, I had this concept of someone who slingshots them out in my head. Who'd have thunk though that throwing is a required skill?
- Guessing these are special balls that don't need any sort of weakening to use?
- Well that is one hell of a punny name for a Pokemon. Croocascéan. I have no right to judge beyond a thumbs-up though, considering I've done "Ankylophone" for a beta 'mon.
- Shoutouts to original regional variants.
- Conquetzador too, definitely having fun with the names - although this one definitely seems more intentional beyond just the pun of a word
- Heh, good. Pokedex is outdated. Also these do seem like Master Balls in disguise.
- And ending on something of a cliffhanger. A mysterious Pokemon, certainly not gong to be important.

Moving along with plot and exploration, continuing to be interesting worldbuilding. Will try to read one a night, delirium permitting. Already read this while a bit out of it,...

 

[Misfit Angel]

All right, let's get to this before I fall way too far behind because holycrap rocket mode.

Don't worry, I only engaged rocket mode because I took several months off from posting to write, and I've already exhausted my backlog.

- as be groaned <- Yar, ye be walkin the plank for that typo

baaaaaaaah. Will put it on my list to fix.

- Well this guy is Irish as a jig

Scots, ye wee babby

- But is the plural of Grumpoose supposed to be Grumpeese? Also is this Canada all of a sudden?

Welcome to the English language, where the rules are made up and the grammar doesn't matter. Frankly, I'm personally opposed to "geese" as the plural of goose, which is why I went with what I did.

- Guessing these are special balls that don't need any sort of weakening to use?

Fighting to weaken things falls under the category of "is this what I want to spend time on in this chapter". In this chapter, I didn't care to showcase battling skills (mostly because Andrea has none and the chapter was already pushing it in length). In future chapters, it'll be part of the plot. There's nothing particularly special about the pokeballs they used, other than their capture rate is dictated by the plot :V

- Conquetzador too, definitely having fun with the names - although this one definitely seems more intentional beyond just the pun of a word

Yes, very intentional. I didn't highlight it much in the chapter, but I intended Conquetzador to basically conquer the nests of other birds, which is why when the eggs fell out during the capture, there were differently-sized ones, and the herons were suspiciously absent.

 

[Misfit Angel]

- Content warnings -
[ sexually suggestive content and innuendos ]

- Content notes -
None!​

Black Heart, Bright Soul
Prologue II: The Rising Star​

"Man is not governed by what is real; people, problems, his circumstances. He is instead governed by his imagined anxieties about real people, real problems and real circumstances. To be enlightened is to break free from these bonds and live on your own terms."
~ The Philosopher of Nikkolos (c. 150-125 BC)​

The sound of various ocean birds filled the atmosphere, as did the crashing of great waves of water. The sweet scent of blossoming cherry petals lingered in the air, held aloft by a gentle and warming breeze that fluttered through the area. An elegantly dressed young woman with dark chestnut hair was resting on the back patio of a large gleaming manor, built upon a precipice that overlooked the tumultuous sea.

She breathed in and out, slowly, tranquilly -- her body motionless and her mind uninterrupted by the stimuli around her. Resting on her knees and tops of her feet, she was deep in meditation, her open palms resting in her lap. An undefined moment passed by before her eyes eventually opened; she greeted her surroundings with a smile.

She took one last deep breath and let it out. "Ahhh... Finally, the serenity I've been looking for..."

Before long, the window behind her rotated open and a voice called through it. "Kimberly, darling! Dinner's ready! Come inside!"

The young woman pushed herself to her feet and sauntered towards the patio door, slid it open, and stepped into an expansive sunroom. Amidst the large collection of plants and flowers was a large dining table, set up with an exquisitely prepared dinner -- loaves of freshly baked garlic bread, bowls of garden salad and fruit salad, and a steaming plate of seasoned golden rice. Suddenly, it felt as if it were night time; the meal was accompanied by the modest lighting of several candles on the table and a chandelier above, and a bouquet of flowers sat on the far edge of the table. Just the mere sight of it made her stomach rumble -- in sound only, at least.

"My love? Where are you?" Kimberly asked.

Another young woman, clad from head to toe in loose, flowing black fabrics that were covered in intricate embroidered patterns, entered from the far end of the room with a seafood platter in her hands. What looked to be a baked Magikarp rested atop a bed of lettuce, steaming.

"O-oh. I hope you remembered --"

"-- That you're a vegetarian? Don't worry, this is for me. I'd never forget my future wife's a veggie!" the woman in black said as she placed the platter in front of one of the empty seats. "Especially when we're this close to dedicating ourselves to each other for the rest of our lives."

"Thank you. Mother always tries telling me that you're forgetful in that manner."

"Your mother doesn't understand anything about me. Or anything about you, for that matter."

"Heh. I guess."

The woman in black pulled out the other empty chair and nodded towards her, then began pouring two glasses of wine out as she sat down. "To you, babe, and your happiness," the woman in black said, raising one of the glasses for a toast.

"No. To us," Kimberly replied, clinking her glass against the other.

"So," the woman in black started, "I've been doing some looking around and I think I found a great spot for our ceremony. Wanna know what it is?"

"Yes!"

"Too bad! It's a secret!"

"Ugh!" she playfully groaned. "You're such a tease!"

"I'll give you a hint, though. It's famed for its clear waters and coral--" The woman's words were cut off by the shrill tones of a ringing phone.

Kimberly looked around to see where it was coming from, but to no avail. "I thought I turned it off... I usually do..."

The phone continued to ring... and ring... and ring... As it did so, her senses began to distort; the picturesque scene began to flicker and falter, the smell of the plants in the sunroom faded, and the sound of the ocean outside grew ever louder.

The woman in black pulled her hand from under the table and offered the ringing phone over. An uncharacteristically gruff and low voice escaped her lips: "Excuse me, Miss Fairbrooke. Your phone is ringing. Are you going to answer it?"

In an instant, her vision was clouded by a dark snap of black, and as her eyes readjusted, she was no longer in that enchanting manor's sunroom, but on the deck of a different and much more modest beach house. Rather than a woman clad in black offering her the phone, it was a large and imposing man, towering over her.

May 19th
Queen Charlotte's Strand, City of Aughrim

Kimberly pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed.

"Ah. Sorry. I disturbed your meditation, didn't I?"

What a monstrous oaf... He should have realized you were busy, right..?

"Yes..." she grumbled before accepting the phone. "But that's alright, I suppose. I lost track of the time, it seems."

'Two missed calls: Nicole Spencer'

"Well... I don't think I'll be able to get back in the headspace to resume my meditation. I suppose I should call --" As she was speaking, the phone vibrated and a message appeared at the top of the screen:

Fr: Nicole Spencer, 6:17 PM

'yo kimzee, pick up! you in the city yet?'​

"She just sent a message, too. Nicole sure knows how to get a woman's attention."

The massive man smiled. "That she does. Always liked that about her."

Fr: Kimberly Fairbrooke, 6:17 PM

'Yes! I arrived a short while ago and got settled in down at the beach house! Want to come over?'​

Fr: Nicole Spencer, 6:18 PM

'nah i wont be able to'
'got my meet n greet in a couple hours remember?'
'speaking of why dont you come down early? fucking BORED here'​

Fr: Kimberly Fairbrooke, 6:18 PM

'I haven't forgotten! I'll be there shortly.'
'Can't wait to see you again!'​

She turned her phone off and placed it on the table next to her, but remained in her meditative posture as she gazed out into the ocean. "Very well, Mr. Tobey. Nicole wants me to arrive at her party early. I'll freshen up and then be going."

"We'll be going, you mean," the large Mr. Tobey said, crossing his arms.

"Excuse me?" she asked.

"I'm your bodyguard, little lady. It's kind of my job to be accompanying you wherever you go."

"Don't call me that, please. I'm not little anymore... I haven't been for years."

Are you kidding..? When's the last time your height in your medical records changed..? Seven, eight years ago..?

He crossed his arms and stifled a laugh. "My apologies, Miss Fairbrooke. I'll refrain from... making note of your height."

"Please, just call me Kimberly. As you did while I was growing up. I may be an adult now, but the formality really isn't necessary."

"It's less that you're an adult and more that I'm your employee now."

"You're not. You're my mother's employee..." she tutted. "I don't mean this in a bad way, Mr. Tobey... I like you, I always have. Truthfully -- but I don't see the point in you being here. Especially if it means I'll never have any time to just myself."

"Your mother insists upon it." He paused as he pulled out a chair at the table beside her. He bounced his big, meaty hand onto the table and motioned towards the chair. "Please, have a seat."

She pushed herself to her feet and took the seat.

He sat down across from her. "Don't take this the wrong way, but you're young. You're naive. You're also wealthy. And before long, you'll a celebrity. In fact, you already are in some ways, what with Petyr and Nicole and all those fancy folks you've been spending the past couple months with. Now, as I'm sure you've experienced over the past year, Lanark is awash with all sorts of bad people. Liars, cheaters, crooks, con artists. People who want to take advantage of your naivety, your youth and good looks. Your generosity. Now that you and Nicole are no longer partnered together, my job is to take that firebrand's place and protect you from those kinds of people."

She furrowed her brow. "I've been over this with mother... Nicole and I are about to resume our travels together. The two of us rarely ran into trouble, and when we did, we could handle it."

"Even if it's as early as tomorrow that you two are back together... Until that moment, I am here. And I promise, I won't get in your way."

Uh huh... Longtime friend or not, can you really trust the guy your mom is paying to not spy on you..? Not step in and tell you, 'no, you can't do that, mumsy said so'..? He's lying...

She crossed her arms and glared. "Do you mean that? Or are you just saying that to make me feel better about this violation of my privacy? She wants you to report back the things I say and do, doesn't she?"

He nodded. "I have my own reservations with how protective your mother is over you. She still treats you like a child, but in my eyes, you're a grown ass woman who is ready to start learning to be independent -- truly independent, without her, your father, or even Nicole watching over you. To that end, you'll be making the decisions and I won't stand in your way. I'll just be nearby to make sure you're safe, and to help you with your days when you need it."

There it is... Help..? He's going to hinder you... Get in the way of your fun, your independence...

"You nodded. So she does expect updates about where I am and what I'm doing?"

He crossed his arms as well. "I didn't say that."

She sighed. "I'm just... very uncomfortable with this. I had nearly a year without her making the decisions in my life... And then I went home and it all started again. 'You're doing this today, you're meeting these people tomorrow, you can't do that, go see that sweet man Petyr today.'..."

"Like I said, you'll be making the decisions."

"What if I make a dangerous decision?"

He smiled and chuckled. "Then it falls on me, a longtime family friend, a man who watched you grow up from a timid little girl into a beautiful and talented young woman, to step in and encourage you otherwise. I'd do that even if I weren't being paid to watch over you and keep you safe."

"I suppose... Just try not to get in the way, please?"

He nodded. "You have my word."

Don't believe him... He's being paid by your mom, after all...

"Anything else you need reassurances on, or are we good to go?"

"I think that's it for now."

"Right. You go get ready for your little party. I'll be close behind, but it's like I won't even be there. Promise."

Mr. Tobey shouldn't be here... You know that, right..? Mom is overstepping yet again...

The flow of water echoed in the bathroom as Kimberly stood in front of the sink and washed her face.

This is just like her, you know -- to step all over you... Why do you put up with this..? Grow a backbone, you pansy-ass girl...

Though it wasn't a particularly special day for herself, it was for her longtime friend, and she wanted to look her best for the occasion. As she looked herself over in the mirror, she couldn't help but focus on her imperfections -- the laugh lines at the edges of her eyes, the stubbornly persistent pimple just beside her ear, and the much darker, much more noticeable solitary mole that loitered near her lips, away from the smattering of freckles that congregated under her violet eyes. Most notably was the flab around her midsection, gained over the past couple months from relying on comfort foods to get her through her days of living at home again -- dealing with the needy demands of an overbearing mother and separation from her best friend and largest source of happiness.

So many imperfections... They're why you were shot down a few months ago, eh..? If only you were prettier...

She did her best to cover them up. Concealer for not just the mole, but all of her freckles as well; shamrock green eyeshadow to draw attention away from the lines beside her eyes; candy pink lip gloss to cover the barely noticeable cracks in her lips; more concealer, and painfully applied, to the stubborn pimple, to no effect.

"Guess I'm going to wear my hair down today..." she mumbled, pulling at the hair clip that kept her braided crown bundled up snugly against her head. Her dark brown hair dropped quickly and twirled energetically as the braid untwined, only to leave her filled with worry as she looked at the messy, unruly result. "I knew I should have visited Mrs. Bellille for a trim before I left..."

You couldn't... Mom was always forcing you to do stuff, keeping you so busy you couldn't do your own things... Now she's using that lumbering oaf to do the same...

"Ah!" she winced as she dropped her eyeshadow wand down into the damp sink. Her hand had slipped and left an unsightly smudge over her eye, as well as a thick line that crossed over to the bottom lid and down her cheek. She gently poked at her sore eye, only to notice that her hand was trembling uncontrollably. She sighed and reached for her purse, then dug around in it until she found a bottle of pills marked with the name Tenzapam. She had a look at the label:

Medication: Tenzepam (methylactinate diyggdrysol)
Prescribed to: Kimberly Fairbrooke
Directions: Take two capsules with water for relief from stress and general anxiety symptoms. Do not exceed more than two a day unless directed by a physician.

Known side effects: May cause nausea, dizziness, light-headedness, decreased appetite and difficulty sleeping. Do not take before or while operating heavy machinery. Do not take if you are breast feeding, pregnant, or planning to be.

WARNING: MAY CAUSE OR INCREASE THE INTENSITY OF SUICIDAL THOUGHTS OR ACTIONS. CONTACT A TRUSTED FRIEND OR PROFESSIONAL SHOULD THIS OCCUR, OR CALL OUR 24/7 HOTLINE FOR SUPPORT.

She looked at her sparkling golden watch -- 6:31 PM. Worries that it was too late in the day to chance it with the potential side effect of insomnia bubbled to the surface of her mind, but were drowned out by more snide commentary from the tricky voice that had been taunting her all afternoon.

"Mr. Tobey!" she called out.

"Yeah?" his gruff and booming voice replied from what sounded like the other side of the house.

She shook the bottle of pills gently. "Do you remember if I took my anxiety medication today?"

"...You're on anxiety medication? When did that start?"

She thought about it and truthfully couldn't remember. Though her current pills were relatively new, anxiety medication in general had been part of her daily routine for long enough that she couldn't remember when she started them.

"Well. Can't say I was looking out for that. I haven't noticed you take any. Sorry."

"Hmm... Thank you!" She looked over the label of the bottle again and shook her head. "As annoying as this voice is, it's better to play it safe... Heh, I may need one of those weekly pill organizers like grandmother used to have... Already..."

She leaned against the sink, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She held it as she counted to ten, then let it out. "Tonight might be a rough night... It's been a couple months since Nicole and I have seen each other, and we haven't spoken much since... well... that awkward night." She opened her eyes and stared into her reflection. "Hopefully the reunion goes smoothly..."

Update notes: June 4, 2023:

• Minor dialogue edits, as well as standardizing the trailing punctuation of Kimberly's anxiety voice.

 

[Misfit Angel]

- Content warnings -
[ sexually suggestive content and innuendos ]

- Content notes -
This one's a monolithic doozy, clocking in at around 9000 words, and this was after I cut some stuff. Prepare for a longhaul!

Also, special thanks to my sister-in-law for offering insight into the mind of an anxious lesbian! Combined with my own experiences with anxiety, I'm hoping the character I've put forward here feels authentic!​

Black Heart, Bright Soul
Chapter 6: The Dark Idol​

"Never meet those you hold in high esteem. You'll see that it's all an illusion -- their image is a curtain that hides disappointment after disappointment. If you truly revere someone, let them live on in your imagination. Rarely do people live up to the legends that surround them."​

~ Baroness Sarana of Clan Greenbriar (August 4th, 1879)​

​

Dark Dungeon Arcade, City of Aughrim

The Dark Dungeon Arcade was an imposing structure that stood out like a sore thumb against the surrounding neighborhood -- an old decaying fortification from an age long gone, centered in the middle of a busy and bustling downtown district of steel, glass, concrete and glitzy neon lighting. Atop the ramparts were decorative stone statues that resembled various bat-like and ghostly Pokémon, as well as a multi-headed golden creature that was not quite a statue, but stood perfectly still like one.

Kimberly instantly recognized the creature as her former travel partner's most powerful and capable Pokémon: Owain the Hydreigon. As she approached the entrance of the arcade, the lone awake head angled downward to leer at her, and upon recognizing her as well, showed off row upon row of serrated fangs as it grinned.

The Hydreigon's presence was enough to shake even the stalwart bodyguard that accompanied her. "What a terrifying creature..." Mr. Tobey mumbled. "...Wish I had one of those!"

"H-hello Owain!" she nervously bleated as she drew closer. She shivered as she passed under the creature. "Ugh! Stop staring at me, Owain! You're creepy enough with all of those heads..."

As she entered the lobby, she was stopped by an attendant with a clipboard in his hand. "Excuse me, folks. Arcade's closed for a private event this evening."

"I realize. I'm here for it!" Kimberly replied.

"Names?"

"Kimberly Fairbrooke," she answered.

He scanned the clipboard for her name, then motioned for the door. "Ah, VIP! Yes!" He looked up at Mr. Tobey. "How about you, big guy? Name?"

"Name's not important. I'm with the little lady -- her bodyguard."

"I'm afraid if you're not on the list, you're not getting in. You'll have to leave."

"Perhaps you didn't hear me," he replied with a brusque tone. "I'm the VIP's bodyguard."

"Not on the list, not getting in. That simple," the attendant insisted. "You're welcome to wait outside."

He took a single step forward, glared down at the man, and spoke softly and deeply. "What if I want to go in anyways?" He poked the man on the shoulder roughly. "You really think you'd be able to stop me? If you want to make something of this, be my guest. I wouldn't recommend it though."

"Gentlemen, please," Kimberly interrupted. "I apologize for his behavior. Can you please make an exception for him?"

"U-uh. S-sorry sir." The man rushed for the door and held it open for them, bowing his head in submission. "Welcome to the dungeon! Please enjoy yourselves."

She crossed her arms, glared at him, and pushed herself to her tippy toes in an ill-fated attempt to get into her massive companion's face. "Is that going to be a regular thing? You intimidating people? Perhaps on my behalf?"

He shrugged. "I wasn't on the list, but I'm accompanying you. I saw no other way forward."

Are you sure you're safe around this ogre..? He was about ready to pound that poor man's face into gravy over a small disagreement... What if you make him mad..?

She huffed. "All I had to do was vouch for you -- or you could have taken a break and left me to myself for a little bit."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"As will I. Maybe having you around isn't the worst thing..."

He grinned. "You see anyone that needs intimidatin', you let me know. Now, you go have fun catching up with Nicole! If you need me, I'll be..." He looked around the venue and dismissed his train of thought with a wild swing of his hand. "D'ah, I stand out enough! You'll be able to find me."

The interior of the arcade was a much different and much more harsh environment than she expected; dark, loud and musty. Much of the floor was poorly lit so that customers could focus on the machines that were crammed into tight rows, and a thin layer of artificial fog obscured what was left. Loud heavy metal music and the sound of the noisy patrons fought for dominance over each other. Though smoking had been outlawed in establishments like the Dark Dungeon Arcade for nearly three decades, the stench of chain smoking lingered heavily in the air and was enough to make her turn around and leave -- if only it wouldn't disappoint her dear friend.

As she looked around, she quickly spotted the reason she'd visited the arcade: the large group of about twenty people centered around a snooker table towards the back of the venue. At the center of all of that attention, stood atop the table, was a large black canine creature that was clad almost entirely in thick plates of brownish bone armor. Brightly lit and smoky red eyes peered out from what appeared to be a hollow and fleshless skull.

"Is that... Dormach? Did she evolve since I last saw her? I don't remember Houndoom having another evolutionary stage..."

Seated on a bar stool beside the creature was her longtime friend, who she'd spent the past year with as a travel partner: Nicole Spencer. Her silky black hair was pulled into a pair of pigtails, each separately highlighted with tones of neon green and burning orange. Her ears were pierced from top to bottom with six rose gold loops each, as was the septum of her nose. Atop a tartan minidress that featured the colors of her ancestral Clan Spencer -- gold, black and gray -- she wore a slim and form fitting cropped leather jacket that was covered in studs, spikes and rhinestones. Brand new thigh-high stilettos stretched up her slender legs, locked in place with an intricate neon pink lace pattern that looked as if it would have taken an eternity to do.

"Huh. She doesn't look quite as fancily dressed as the last fan get-together she hosted..." she wondered as she approached the gathered crowd. "Usually she's got one of her fancy dresses on to advertise it."

"...that actually a Houndecay?" asked a blonde fan, sporting a familiar-looking black dress that featured spider web motifs. "How the hell did you manage to evolve this beauty? A live Houndecay hasn't been seen in... who knows how long!"

Nicole smirked. "That's a secret! Though to be honest, I'm not actually sure what caused it... All I know is where it happened, and I dunno if I should blab about that. That'd invite some serious fuckin' trouble."

"Must have been by that old spooky castle down in Doranshire!" one of the other fans theorized.

"Won't say!" Nicole answered. "Castle Doranshire's a nice place, though. If I make it big, I'm buying that place, fixin' it up and livin' there! Maybe build a rave club down in the old torture dungeons!" As she scanned the crowd for reactions to her words, she spotted Kimberly and her face lit up. "Hey! Kimzee! Ya made it!"

Kimberly bashfully waved as Nicole motioned towards her. So many eyes were on her, as if she were some sort of superstar -- despite the fact that Nicole was the real superstar, especially that evening. "Hello!" she said with a squeaky and nervous voice.

"Hey, gimme a minute everyone? Gotta go say hi to my bestest bud! Haven't seen her in a couple months!" Nicole said before standing up and hopping off of the snooker table. She stumbled on the landing, and upon regaining her footing, she grabbed Kimberly by the shoulders in a powerful sweeping motion and lead her off towards a quieter part of the arcade.

"'You made it'," Kimberly repeated. "I seem to recall you sent me a message begging me to come early, because you were bored. The party has already started!"

Nicole looked back at the gathered crowd as they gawked at the stoic and stone-like Houndecay that stood atop the snooker table. "Yeah... Guess word got out that I was already here. People started showin' up before they were supposed to!" Nicole forcibly shook her in a friendly manner. "Gods! It's so great to see ya again! How ya been? Anything interesting happen over the past couple months?"

"I've been well. I've mostly stayed home and practiced for my upcoming coordination contest. I haven't really had time to do anything else."

"Still on that coordination junk, huh?"

"I don't believe it's fair to call it 'junk', friend. It's a legitimate sport with growing popularity, and something I actually appear to be good at."

"I dunno about growin'... Look you realize how dumb that sounds, right? C'mon, girl! You got talent leakin' out of every pore and are better than you think at just about everythin' you do! 'Sides! You been practicin' with Petyr effin' Mylos! He's the best of the best when it comes to coordination! Of course you're gonna be good at it!"

"I do owe a lot of my progress to him. He's a very good mentor."

"Hell yeah. He's cut from the same cloth we are -- just damn good at everything we do."

She nervously laughed. While Nicole seemed gifted in the realm of Pokémon training, that was about the only thing she was good at, other than marketing an obscure fashion line. As for herself, she wasn't ready to agree that she had any special gifts other than being born into a wealthy family.

Nicole's face lit up. "Hey speakin' of Petyr! Heard from a mutual 'friend' that you and him are datin' now!"

"How did you... No one's supposed to know about that..."

"Kimzee, one thing you gotta learn about stardom -- and you're not even there yet, sister... you don't have privacy anymore. You might notta told anyone and Petyr might notta told anyone -- hell, you're mom might notta told anyone -- but people always have their eyes on a guy like him. Paparazzi types, ya know?"

"Paparazzi..." she muttered before groaning with annoyance. "Let me ask, you heard that from Lochlan at The Breaking Wave, didn't you? I think I've seen him more than a few times lurking about over the past couple months..."

Nicole nodded. "Douchebag piece of work, ain't he?"

She shook her head and groaned again. "What is with people lately going out of their way to violate my privacy? Him and I used to be such good friends... I have half a mind to pay double what that dumb magazine is paying him, just to get him to leave Petyr alone. I'm not going to tolerate him violating my privacy by violating Petyr's."

A devious grin appeared on Nicole's face. "There ya go! Finally usin' all that money of yours for somethin' good! Somethin' corrupt! I like it."

"Heh. I don't know, is it really corrupt?"

"You kiddin' right now? Payin' money to get people to keep quiet and look the other way doesn't sound the least bit corrupt?" Nicole asked. "Speakin' of corruption and scandal, you slept with him yet?"

Her eyes widened. "N-Nicole!"

Nicole burst into uproarious laughter. "You're such a prude! You should see the look on your face!" Her grip on Kimberly's shoulders tightened again. "Seriously, though... He may have been your mother's idea, but the guy's a nice catch for ya... Well mannered, wealthy, cute... not to mention the dude's got connections coming out of every hole, too. You should really be thinkin' of startin' that, even if it's not your cup of tea. So he doesn't get bored, ya know? Keep him interested, keep him around!"

"I-I'm not ready for that!"

"Not ready for it? Come on, you're fuckin' 22 years old! You were ready years ago, ya just don't realize it."

She pushed herself out of her friend's grip. "That's not what -- I'm not the type to give it away that easily. Besides, Petyr and I have only been together for... a month now?"

"Ah c'mon, you're startin' to sound like your mom!" She adjusted her accent and took on a mocking tone before continuing, "Us women are walking works of art! We're prim and proper! Princesses! We're better than that! Save it for marriage! And even then, it's only a service for our husbands! Only use it to pop out babies! Don't have fun, ever!"

Heh... That's a good impression of mom, eh..?

"Nicole, stop. I'm not ready. I'm not sure he's the right one. Until I know, it's not happening. With him, or anybody for that matter. That is the end of it."

Nicole crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. "D'ah! You're no fun sometimes. Don't come cryin' to me if he finds someone who's happy to give up the goods and leaves ya over it. All those famous celebrity types got girls linin' up for them, and he's prolly no exception. Look at me, I've certainly got my choice of the boys, and I'm nowhere near as famous as him!"

Jeeze... You call this girl your friend..? What a bitch..! Though she always has been ever since you were kids, right..?

She clenched her fists, shook her head and sighed. "I didn't come down here to be ridiculed by my best friend for the crime of still being a virgin. I suggest you find another topic, or I'm leaving."

"Alright, alright, sorry," Nicole offered, her voice several octaves lower. "Just... one more thing I want to say about that, and I'll do my best to be serious about it: Part of why I'm suggesting you fool around with him -- even if you don't go all the way -- is it'll finally put to rest that question you've been having about yourself. Give you some solid answers. It's been a little heartbreaking to watch my best friend beat herself up over her sexuality, you know? And, hey! If you don't like it? So what. There's nothing wrong with a girl who likes other girls, right? I don't give a shit what anyone says."

Nicole's sudden turn towards seriousness -- and with notably improved elocution -- caught her off guard, but it was heartwarming to see. "I suppose it would give me the answers... I just don't know if I'm interested. Especially this soon. I don't want to compromise my ideals just to chase an answer I've been seeking."

"Hey, I might give you a hard time about it sometimes, but that's fair. I'd have been in bed with the guy by now if I were in your fancy little shoes, but... You're you. My bestie. You don't have to change for me, Kimzee. Not for anybody."

She smiled.

"So anyways! How're things back home?" she remarked in her usual shrill manner, her high pitched words returning; she saw one of the fans approach and walk by, adjusting her tone mid-sentence. "Any news about my old folks?"

Kimberly shook her head. "They refuse to talk to me. They still think I'm the reason you 'ran away from home'."

A sharp exhale escaped Nicole's nose as she smirked. "Figures... They still don't realize it was the other way around, do they? I practically had to drag you kickin' and screamin' to come with me."

"They were worried about you! They didn't think a career as a Pokémon trainer would work out. Not to mention the danger involved..."

"Idiots. Didn't even believe in their own god damn daughter. Grandma Spencer was the Rose League's first woman champion, but according to them, I had no chance? Look at me now, though! 77 and 3 record, top of the Rose League leaderboards! I'm about ready to bust some Elite Four skulls, claim another championship for the Spencer family. Quicker and cleaner than Grandma did it... And they never thought I could do it... D'ya have any idea how that feels?"

"I... Heh. I do, actually... But I still don't think it's fair to call them idiots."

"Well, whatever. Speakin' of the Elite Four, umm... My challenge against them and hopefully the champion got scheduled super early, right at the end of the month. I've decided that I'm bucklin' down and trainin' hard to make sure I'm ready to become the legend I was born to be. I'm talkin' real wilderness survival shit, spendin' a couple weeks up in the Dornoch Mountains, fightin' bears, survivin' blizzards and pushin' my team beyond their limits."

Kimberly felt a sense of dread about the idea. "Uhh, are you feeling okay? And w-what about --"

"I know what you're going to say," Nicole interrupted, her voice lowering and her elocution raising again. "You have obligations here in Aughrim, probably back home, too. I get that. Which means we're going to have to part ways for a little bit longer, you know? Don't worry, I got someone backing me up out there, I won't be alone! But it's too dangerous to bring you out there. I don't think you'd enjoy it, anyways. It gets cold in the mountains, and we'd be living rough for a few weeks. Rougher than we ever experienced together. I can't do that to you."

Her heart dropped. "Wh-what do you mean? I thought we agreed to hit the road together again after the Flower of Aughrim?"

"Sorry. That's just how it is, you know? I didn't ask for my league challenge to be scheduled so soon, but now that it is, I... I have to step my game up or I'll crash and burn for sure."

Wow, she is a bitch, isn't she..? Made all sorts of promises to you just a few days ago and now she's breaking them for her own selfish benefit...

The thought worried her. She knew that league champions were busy people with lots of responsibilities -- one of which was staying at Castle Ardhmoor to defend their title from challengers. If Nicole's challenge was successful and she was crowned the new Rose League Champion... "She wouldn't have time to travel with me anymore..." she thought. "But if you become the champion... we won't... get to..."

Nicole embraced her closely again. "Hey! We'll cross that bridge when we get to it! I do have lot of confidence in myself, but I have to be honest with myself, too: dethroning the champion is not gonna be easy. Champions tend to reign for years, and the guy there now just got there last month. The guy's got a better record than mine..."

"Still..."

She dismissed the conversation with a swat of her hand and raised her tone again. "But ahh, we'll worry about this later, eh? I gotta get back to the fans! I know these punks ain't your kinda crowd, but come join us! Try to have some fun! You'll be regrettin' it tomorrow if you don't spend some time with your bestie and her fans!"

"Uhh. Okay! I'll try!"

Over the next thirty minutes, she tried to mingle with the fans, but Nicole was right: the people around her certainly weren't her type. Conversations stalled fairly quickly with everyone she tried to talk to -- either they were loud and rude, or they talked about subjects she had little interest or knowledge in. Mostly, the only interest they seemed to have in her was her association with Nicole, attempting to get juicy gossip out of her, rather than have friendly conversations with someone new.

Why are you so surprised..? You never fit in with Nicole's fans, and you never even enjoyed these gatherings... Why did you expect it to be different this time..?

She didn't, but she was still disappointed. She was ready to leave, but worried it would be rude to leave so soon. As she looked around for more people to talk to, she felt more and more alienated; the crowd of leather-clad fans, with their bright and wild hair, their excessive tattoos, their loud and brash personalities, was completely at odds with herself -- well-mannered, conservatively dressed, and soft-spoken. There was so little common ground between herself and Nicole's fans -- and by extension, little common ground with Nicole as well, she realized.

"She sure has changed since we were kids... I do enjoy her company and her energy, but I kind of miss when she was soft-spoken like me. Less... self-absorbed. I don't like this unpredictable, slightly insane image she puts on these days..."

Still, she made a pledge to herself to stay on the off chance that Nicole might need her for some reason; it was rare for her to be included in the festivities of the fan gatherings, but it had happened before. However, with no one to talk to, no new stories to listen to and little interest in video games, she reached for her purse and pulled out a small notepad that was filled with her coordination routines. She was determined to make some sort of headway on her upcoming competition, even if it was just going over her plans.

"Ah ha ha ha, right!? We kicked major fuckin' ass in Steelport!" Nicole's loud, booming voice called out. "That was such a great night!"

Look at that... She's telling your big story and not even including you this time... Some friend, huh..?

Unfortunately, the venue was anything but conducive to focusing, and she almost immediately found herself distracted by the loud music, the beepbooping of the arcade cabinets, the raucous laughter and discussions coming from Nicole's direction, and of course the voice of doubt. Tried as she might, she just couldn't break free from the energy around her or the persistently negative thoughts in her head, and her eyes started to wander. As she looked around the venue, she noticed someone she hadn't tried speaking to yet: the very same blonde she saw when she first arrived, walking out of a row of arcade cabinets towards the concessions bar.

She watched as the blonde leaned against the bar, ordered a drink, and then took it back to one of the empty tables, far from the gaggle of fans that surrounded Nicole. After a quick glance in the crowd's direction, the blonde visibly sighed, reached into the tall striped stockings she wore and pulled out her phone and a coiled up pair of earbuds. In short order, she was bobbing back and forth, lost in both a world of music and her phone.

"Wow, who is that?" she wondered as she took note of the blonde's features. Her thin lips were covered in matte black lipstick, her eyelids featured a similar coloration, and striking eyeliner finished off her makeup. Her hair -- showcasing exposed brown roots that signaled a dye job -- was parted on the left and allowed to freely flow downward, shyly covering the right half of her face. Her hair, the distance at which they were seated from each other and the lighting of the venue made it difficult to tell for certain, but she found herself captivated by the blonde's blue or slate gray eyes. Her overall look was punctuated by a set of rings and bracelets that reinforced the spider motif of her clothing.

"Whoever she is, she's cute..." she whispered to herself as she continued to glance in the blonde's direction -- blissfully unaware that she was obviously staring.

She's just another fan -- a stranger, and nothing more...

A wave of awkward embarrassment careened into her as she and the blonde exchanged glances. She tried to double down on her focus and return to her notes, but kept finding herself looking upward and glancing in the direction of the stranger for a brief few seconds. Even among the other fans, the stranger stood out; pretty much everyone else was dressed in studded or spiked black leather and tight fitting slate denim, yet the stranger's attire was much more sophisticated; lacy frills at the bottom of a dress that featured spiderweb-like patterns of silver threading, and intricately woven fishnets that also resembled spiderwebs ran down her arms.

"That's definitely a Misfit Angel Spider dress she's wearing... That was a fun one to help design..! Would she find it odd if I went up and asked her about it? Maybe I could make a new friend in the process?"

No doubt she would... Strangers don't like to be bothered about what they're wearing, it's creepy..! And friendship..? Get real..!

She was ready to push herself to her feet and approach the stranger before she was knocked back down by a bout of anxiety. That tricky voice in the back of her mind reminded her of the many facts of life relating to social interaction:

Don't approach strangers out in public unless they're openly broadcasting it's okay, they're just trying to get on with their lives, you weirdo... Commenting on a stranger's appearance, or complimenting them in any way is a sign that you're a deviant, you creep... Strangers won't want to hear your boring life stories, or about how your life is so much better than theirs, you twat... All of this is why people who aren't forced to be associated with you tend to shy away and not like you, you loser...

She realized her whole thought process was stupid; she'd talked to other fans out of the blue, why would it be wrong to approach her?

"It wouldn't be. It's a fan gathering, after all... Ugh, maybe I didn't take my anxiety medication today... I thought I did..."

She did her best to put all of her anxieties into a box and pack them away with a deep breath. She grabbed her notebook and gathered her courage as she made her way towards the table on the other side of the floor, completely unsure of what to expect. The uncertainty only added to her apprehension. She couldn't believe she was getting this worked up over a simple introduction; she rarely found it difficult to interact with strangers in the past, even just twenty minutes ago, and wondered why it was so different this time.

It's because you're creeping on her... Why so much focus on her appearance..? A stranger's..? A girl's, no less..? Don't be weird, now... Just turn around...

She approached the table and tapped the stranger on the shoulder. "Excuse me, miss?"

"Hmm?" the blonde murmured before she tugged at the wires leading to her ears, popping out her earbuds. The blonde's deep blue eyes snapped Kimberly's attention up. "Need something?"

"Wow... She's even prettier up close," she thought, pausing for a moment. "I, umm... I couldn't help but... but notice you, and umm..."

The blonde's eyebrow shot upward.

"Umm!" she started, clearing her throat. "I was just wondering if you'd like to chat, maybe?"

"Uhh..." the blonde mumbled. A look around showed at least half a dozen empty tables around her. "Having a bad night. Kinda wanted to sit alone for awhile..."

"Oh. I see..." She turned around to return to her previous spot, only for the blonde's voice to speak up and call out.

"Hey, hold on! My roommate told me to make the most of tonight. Meet new people. Hard to do that when I sit alone, right?" A brief smirk appeared on the blonde's face. "Besides, you sound even more socially awkward than I do, so this should be some good entertainment." She tapped on the screen and the screeching music from her earbuds ceased. "Have a seat, I guess."

She took the seat across from the blonde and laughed nervously. "I am not normally that awkward, I assure you."

"Guess we'll see," the blonde responded. A lengthy silence followed as they both glanced around the venue, and eventually that coy smile reappeared on the blonde's face. "Not awkward, huh..." she quietly mused. "So, uhh... You said you wanted to... talk, right?"

Wow, Kim..! You're blowing this introduction pretty hard..! At least say something to her... just as long as it's not about her looks, eh..?

"Yes! Umm. Ahem. I just thought you looked a little lonely over here by yourself. Maybe you'd like some company? People typically don't come to events like these to people watch."

"Maybe I'm not your typical girl," the blonde replied. "I could say the same about you. Noticed you sitting alone, too, watching everyone."

She offered a polite smile. "I came here to socialize with Nicole's fans, but nobody wants to talk to me. Or if they do, they want to talk about her. I suppose it's to be expected at an event all about her, but it's still a little bit disappointing..."

The blonde let out a light chuckle. "Tell me about it! Nobody wants to talk to me, either. You'd think at least one of these guys would be interested in chatting up another hot goth girl, see where and how fast things go, but you're right. It's like Nicole has some sort of spell on them. Boys, huh?"

"Heh, yeah. Boys..." she mumbled. "I take it that she's ignoring you, too, isn't she?"

They both looked back at the black haired idol, seated atop one of the tables. She let out a roaring laugh and gingerly placed her hand on one of the boys' shoulders.

"Tch! I'm starting to wonder why I even bothered coming. I was so excited, too -- Nicole's been my idol ever since I found her fashion blog a few years ago, before she even became famous... But all she could do was say hi, gloss over my questions, then just kinda gravitate towards the boys. It's like I don't even exist to her." The blonde raised her glass of sparkling soda and tilted it forward in a mock toasting motion. "Never meet your idols. What a bitter, fucking disappointment."

"It's nothing personal," she said. "She doesn't interact with her female fans all that much."

"Ehh?" The blonde looked her up and down with curious eyes, taking note of the vintage-looking pastel pink diner dress that she was wearing. "Maybe I shouldn't judge a book by its cover, but you don't exactly look the type to be a fan of Nicole. I figure most of her fans would look like her, judging by the people who came here today."

She awkwardly looked down at her attire and felt nervous about the assessment the blonde had given her, even if it was mostly accurate. "Heh, uhh. I wouldn't call myself a fan, no. I'm actually a close friend of hers."

"You serious?" The blonde's expression lightened a bit, and she started looking more closely.

She could see the blonde's eyes studying her features one by one; downward towards her body, back up towards her face, and finally up towards her dark chestnut hair. She felt a sense of nervousness wash over her as her new acquaintance continued to study her.

The blonde's blackened lips curled into a smile. "Yeah... You do look familiar... I feel like I've seen you in a few of Nicole's photos." The blonde began to snap her fingers rapidly as she thought. "Shit, that's right, she introduced you as her bestie, didn't she? I don't know if I ever saw your name on her photos, though... What'd she call you, Kimzee? Are you, uhh... Kimberly, by any chance? Fffffair...breeze, was it?"

Her face lit up and her own smile broke through, as did a nervous laugh. "Yes! Kimberly Fairbrooke! I'm glad someone around here recognizes me. I'd prefer if you don't call me 'Kimzee' though, I hate that little pet name... So. Much!"

The blonde nodded. "I'll keep that in mind... I'm Andrea. Huge fan of Nicole, and... that's about all there is to my story."

"Well, Ms. Andrea, it's a pleasure to meet you."

Andrea continued to nod politely. "Yeah, you too." There was a long lull in the conversation, during which point Andrea fidgeted nervously, as if Kimberly's continued presence was bothering her.

Come on, surely you can keep a conversation going, can't you..? Though, you were always only ever good at following conversations and nodding politely -- nodding empty-headedly -- rather than leading them...

That annoying voice was beginning to irritate her, and she sought not just to prove it wrong, but perhaps make a new and lasting connection. She tried to think of ways to bridge the gap, but nothing particular -- aside from Andrea's appearance -- sprang to mind. "So, I've been wanting to get to know some of Nicole's fans for awhile now, but... Most of her fans are men, and I don't really fit in with this kind of crowd. You're the only other girl here, so... I don't know! Maybe you can you tell me a little about yourself?"

Andrea shrugged. "What do you want to know?"

She tilted her head inquisitively. "Anything, really! I find your accent curious... It doesn't sound like you're from Aughrim, but I can't quite pin down where it's from."

"You are awkward! That's the first thing you want to know?" A chuckle escaped Andrea. "Well, everyone tells me they can't figure out where I'm from when they first talk to me... If you really want to know, I'm a Stormlander -- that's what they call people born on the main, central island of the Storm Islands, way off the southwest coast. I lived there until I was... six or seven? My parents moved to a little village in the Heartland called Honeybrook, and then I spent the last few years here in Aughrim. I guess my accent must be pretty terrible to hear, especially with how long I spent in the Heartland... That horrible countryside drawl must have started to bleed in..."

"Oh, no! It hasn't at all! And I think your accent is quite lovely, actually. Exotic."

"Thanks?"

"Exotic might be the wrong word! It sounds... refined. Well-mannered. A little bit posh."

"Tt! Ha!" Andrea honked. "Maybe for my accent, but none of those things apply to me."

"Heh, I see. So you have lived here for a few years, then?"

"Yep."

"What's it like? I've only ever stayed overnight to attend a conference with my father, and I didn't get to experience Aughrim much."

"I can tell by your accent that you're from Visalia just like Nicole is, so let me warn you: don't get your hopes up about this place. Unlike where you come from, there's nothing nice about the city if you ask me. Everyone is rude, selfish, and with some new justice reforms passed by the city council at the start of the year, violent crime is trending upward at a scary rate... I can't say I really enjoy living here."

"Why stay here, then?"

Andrea's expression darkened. "Because I'm trapped and I have no other options? I've been out of work for nearly six months. My roommate and I only barely manage to scrape by by doing odd jobs for friends and neighbors to pay for rent and dinner, and I've been going to bed hungry some nights just to recover the costs of the tickets to this stupid gathering. I can't even go home to Honeybrook, I stupidly burned bridges with my dad a few months back... I'm on a knife's edge, and unless something changes, I can't afford to move somewhere with more opportunity."

"Wow, how much is Nicole charging for these tickets? She's not exactly short on money, and I've always been happy to help her when she was..." she thought.

She had a hard time believing Andrea's story, owing to the fact that her new acquaintance was wearing heavy makeup and designer clothing -- with boots that looked like they'd cost a couple golden roses all on their own. Not to mention the luxurious silver necklace that sparkled with a pearlescent blue sheen -- the hallmark of expensive Argentium -- and the various jewelry she sported along her fingers, wrists and ears. Andrea was also on the curvier side, how could she be starving? It would hardly be the first time a stranger tried winding her up or attempted to take advantage of her sympathy -- and her bank account -- with falsehoods, so she vowed to be careful. "Surely it's not that grim."

"Lady, you don't even know. If I didn't have my roommate looking out for me, I'd probably be chained up to a radiator in a basement somewhere, or I'd be a murdered prostitute, rotting in a ditch right now."

She found herself completely blind sided by Andrea's wildly imaginative and grotesque assertions, and began to wonder if she had struck out as she had with the other fans in attendance. "Umm. What a thing to say."

"Sorry, that was a little grim, even for me... Maybe my life isn't that bad... But it's still pretty bad," Andrea said before sighing. "I'm hoping that all changes soon... I just got home from an internship in Loch Alstan. I think I did well enough, but I'm trying not to get my hopes up. I've done that too often in the past."

"Ooh, Loch Alstan? Sounds charming! At least if you find work there, your financial problems should go away, right? I hear the average wage there is quite high compared to the rest of the kingdom, Alderney and Visalia excluded."

"Assuming the cost of living doesn't eat my money up as soon as I get it... Part of why I applied where I did, to be honest..." Andrea said with a nod. "Ah, but you've been listening to me all this time, it's only fair I listen to you, too! What about you? You do anything interesting for a living?"

"Heh, umm. Not really. I'm sort of between careers at the moment. I used to dabble in the arts before Nicole asked me to join her on the road. After a while, I grew interested in Pokémon training and tried it myself, but the amount of commitment, skill and frankly abusive ownership required to compete at a higher level was too much for me."

"Yeah... I used to date a guy who was into Pokémon training, thought he'd be the next Lance of Clan Blackthorne. He wasn't even that good, despite spending all of his time training instead of, you know, going out on dates with me like he promised. Haven't had a deep appreciation for high level training ever since."

Ouch, tough luck Kim..! Did you hear that..? She dates guys... May as well give up now and go do something better with your time...

She paused for a brief moment to silence the voice in the back of her mind. "And yet here you are, at a fan gathering for one of the most successful competitive trainers of this generation!"

"Right. I guess it's easy to look the other way when they're an idol of yours, huh?"

She nodded.

Andrea's posture adjusted towards a more casual and comfortable one. "So what do you want to do now? Thinking of going back to your artwork?"

"I thought about it, but I'm not sure about that. I wouldn't say I'm unskilled at it, but I've had a frustrating time with progressing my skills further, let alone figuring out how to get my art out there and seen... So I've been wanting to get into Pokémon coordination instead, actually."

Andrea rested her chin between her fingers in thought. "Huh... Coordination..."

"Have you never heard of it?"

"I have, I just don't know a lot about it. Isn't it, like... like those old circus shows?"

"Actually, yes! 19th century circus shows are where coordination found its roots! I guess I shouldn't be surprised that you haven't really heard of it. Pokémon coordination is not a widely popular sport compared to competitive training, and most people don't take it seriously. I suspect that is because it's traditionally viewed as a woman's sport, but... That is just my biased opinion."

Andrea laughed. "I dunno, you're probably right about that. I've noticed that there are so few women worth looking up to as heroes when it comes to Pokémon training... That's honestly the biggest reason I don't take competitive training too seriously myself. Nicole's been my biggest exception."

"Would you be interested in hearing about coordination at all?"

"Sure! Doesn't look like I'm going to get anywhere with any of these guys, so I've got all night to kill."

Did she seriously just say that..? And you're seriously going to keep talking to her..? You hate slutty girls like her...

She pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed.

Andrea's head tilted. "You okay?"

She dismissed Andrea's concern with a wave of her hand. "Just a mild headache, I guess."

"Yeah, music's pretty loud in here, isn't it? I've been here a lot, I know a quieter spot if you'd like."

She looked back at Nicole to find her still atop the snooker table, grinding against one of her fans in an extremely close and intimate dance. Seeing it made her jealous -- her friend had begged her to visit and keep her company, only for her to be more or less ignored after a quick and mostly upsetting conversation.

"I'd like that. This atmosphere just isn't for me."

Andrea grabbed her sparkling soda and downed as much of it as she could, then slammed the cup back down onto the table with a messy splash. "Can't promise the atmosphere will be all that different, but it'll at least be quieter! C'mon, follow me."

"I don't like this..." Andrea mumbled quietly.

"Don't like what, friend?"

"Don't look now, but there's some gorilla in a suit following us."

She looked back to see Mr. Tobey several paces behind them. "Oh. Him. Don't worry about him."

"You know him?"

"It's a long story. He's looking after me today, he won't bother us."

"A bodyguard, huh? You'd think Nicole would be the one to have one, not you."

"It's not by choice, believe me..." she said softly. "But he's an old family friend. I trust him when he says he'll stay out of the way. He's just... very proactive with his job. He doesn't want to let me out of his sight."

"Hmm. Still. Kinda weird. Anyways, up here," Andrea said, pointing up a set of spiral stairs that ended at a large metal door. She placed her foot on the bottom step and pushed against it, causing the entire set of stairs to wobble slightly. "Uhh... I usually go up these stairs alone. I don't know if they could support all of our weight combined. So, one at a time?"

"Are you sure it's even safe?"

Andrea glanced at her up and down again. "Well, if I can get up these, you'll be able to. You're a bit thinner than I am. Your friend in the suit, though..." She turned to address the large man. "Your choice if you wanna follow us up."

He nodded. "Don't plan on letting her out of my sight."

"Right... Here goes." Andrea muttered before she followed the spiral to the top and let in a welcoming blast of chilly, fresh air.

At the top, they found themselves atop the tallest spire of the Dark Dungeon Arcade, the southwest tower that served as a watch post in ages long ago. Even then in the modern era, with the old fort eclipsed by the giant skyscrapers around it, the tower still afforded a decent view: Dragoon Avenue offered a direct line of sight to the harbor, a location brightly lit up by the pleasure park built on the water, while Lancaster Street, York Street and Rosewood Boulevard offered views into downtown and the city's bustling entertainment district.

"Oooh! Is that a Ferris wheel out on the pier?" Kimberly asked as she rushed over to the crenellated barrier around the roof. "How charming! I've always wanted to go on one!"

Andrea leaned on the wall next to her. "Sadly, you can't go on that one. No one's allowed on it because the pier's structural stability isn't what it used to be, and the city council would rather spend our taxes on their own pockets... So it serves as a makeshift lighthouse these days. That thing might be in the sea the next time you're in town."

"Ah..."

"So! Better out here than in there?"

"Yes, much..."

"Well," Andrea started, taking a seat on one of the bulky air conditioning units that dotted the tower. "You wanted to tell me about coordination. Let's hear it."

"Ah, yes! Well, there are many styles to it, but the most popular form -- and the one I am interested in competing in -- it's, well a stage show, I guess! It's the form of coordination that is most authentic to its roots as a circus show, as I mentioned before. It involves flashiness, showmanship, stunning visuals and enchanting costumes."

"How often do you get to see Dewgongs jumping through hoops of fire?"

"That's pretty common these days, still. But it's more than just that; there's music, there's dance, and there's dozens of other odd talents that coordinators bring to the stage. I myself want to try to employ gymnastics in my routines, and I'm hoping the practice I've been putting in pays off. One false move and I'm landing hard on the stage, rather than the soft mats I practiced with..."

"Sounds a lot more fun than watching Pokémon rip each other to shreds in fights, all while people cheer loudly and gamble away their paychecks on it."

"Yes... That side of the sport is part of what put me off of competitive training, so I moved onto coordination instead. It just feels a lot more friendly and humane. I guess that's the woman's touch, and why people don't follow it as enthusiastically..."

"Yep. If it doesn't involve bloodshed and violence, it's not worth a man's time, I guess."

She giggled. "I don't think it's quite that, but, ah well... Coordination is all in good fun, but I can't accurately state how nervous I am... My first contest is coming up next week..."

"Uh oh. Having trouble believing in yourself?"

She nodded. "It's just that I've only picked this up recently, and already everyone around me is confident that I'll take the whole Coordinator's Society by storm. All of the encouragement I've been receiving, the belief people have in me, it feels a little hollow. I've yet to even prove myself."

"I don't know about any of that, but would it change anything if a stranger said you shouldn't worry and just try to have fun?"

She paused and thought about it.

"Look at it this way. The past few years of my life have been people encouraging me and telling me I can achieve anything because of my talent, but I've never been quite so sure about that. I keep feeling like I got where I did because I was lucky, or good looking, or because I worked harder than I needed to fill in the talent gap. Luck was how I got onto my school's softball team, which earned me the scholarship towards the university I went to. Random chance put me and my ex-fiance together. Good looks are probably what got me a job I was pretty terrible at when I first started. Extremely hard work to cover for my slipping grades is what eventually got me my degree in biology." Andrea's excitement over putting herself down waned for a moment, before she added, "I don't know. Just... you're not alone when it comes to thinking people are lying to you about how good or special you might be. There are a lot of reasons they might do that, but... The important thing is to just have fun doing what you do, I think, and put on the best show you can. If you fall short of everyone's expectations, that's okay."

"Thank you! Finally someone who feels the same!" She smiled warmly. "I'll do my best. Not just in my performances, but in having fun while doing it. You're right, that is the important thing."

"Yep."

"I wonder... She doesn't seem totally disinterested in the sport of coordination? Would she be interested in actually attending a contest?"

She's just humoring you, you idiot... She said it herself, she's just looking to kill time since she couldn't get laid tonight...

She grumbled quietly to herself. "Umm... It may be a little presumptuous of me to ask, but..." she bleated nervously, then froze.

"But?"

"You mentioned earlier that you don't have many women to look up to when it comes to sports. Maybe... Maybe I could be one of them? Because I'm... kind of in need of a fan to cheer me on." She flinched as Andrea's facial expression hinted at her disinterest, but she was already in too deep. "Like I said, my next contest is coming up soon, and the only person I expected to have by my side said she's not coming. If you're interested and have the time to attend, I could arrange for a VIP ticket for you. It would be no problem."

Andrea seemed as if she didn't know how to respond. "I... I don't know. Next week?" she said, followed up by something murmured too quietly to hear. "Umm... ... ...maybe?"

"You don't sound so certain."

"It's just... I dunno! It's a bit sudden, I don't know you all that well, or even follow coordination at all... I don't know if I'd enjoy myself at all. And if things go well for me, I might not even be in town by next week. I don't want to make a promise I can't keep. I've done that enough in my life."

"Oh! That's understandable! I'm happy to give you some time to think it over! Perhaps I could get your number and ask again as we get closer to the night of the contest?"

Woah, woah..! Asking for a stranger's number..? What is wrong with you..?

Once again, Andrea's confounded expression returned, and she hesitated to answer. A mix of frustrated sighs and huffs of unsureness preceded her final answer, "Uhhh. Sure, why not. I guess if I am in town, it'd be a... change of pace from another night of staying in and lamenting about my boring and sad existence. Could do with having some friends again, too! Just... don't expect me to cheer loudly from the crowd if I do attend. I don't do enthusiasm."

She grinned. "Considering the way you're dressed, I'm not surprised."

"Hey, don't let my looks deceive you. I just like the aesthetic. I don't do enthusiasm for other reasons. Probably an undiagnosed case of autism or some shit," Andrea answered back as she turned her phone back on. "Let's see... My number is 1-704-6245."

She brought her own phone out and added Andrea to her contacts list. "1-704...6245?" she repeated for confirmation. "Thank you! Do you need mine?"

Andrea nodded. "That's probably a good idea. I get so many robocalls and texts these days that I'm considering ignoring numbers I don't recognize... Probably not ideal for a jobless girl to do while she has a million applications out there, but... fuck, it's so annoying!"

"Yes... It really is out of control, isn't it? My number is 1-102-1143."

"1... 102..." Andrea muttered. "Got it. Send me a message a couple days before the contest and we'll see if I'm up for it? Remember, no promises."

She smiled. "Very well! You're free to send me messages as well, if you like! I wouldn't mind. It's great to make new friends!"

Andrea snickered. "You will mind once you see the kind of shit I send to people!"

"Heh... Should I be scared?"

"Nah. I just tend to send silly memes that people have a hard time understanding, it seems." The phone in her hand started to buzz and she took a moment to stare at the screen. "Fuck... Seriously?" She sighed loudly. "Guess it's good timing you asked for my number."

"What's wrong?"

"Something's come up, I gotta head home and get some sleep."

"Oh! Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah... Just gotta meet with someone early in the morning now. 'Nother job interview, actually, for a cleaning company."

She'd look cute in one of those maid outfits, wouldn't she..?

Another sigh followed. "These wild swings in my sleep pattern are gonna put me in an early grave, I swear..."

"I see. It was nice meeting you!"

"Yeah. You too."

"Ah, before you go... I'm curious, do you live nearby?"

Andrea gestured towards the west. "A couple blocks that way on Lancaster. Why?"

"I was just curious. I think I'm done here as well, and Mr. Tobey and I could walk you home, if you like."

Andrea shook her head wildly. "Nah, I'm good. Neighborhood hasn't gone to the wolves quite yet. Thank you for the offer, though."

She nodded. "Be safe! You'll hear from me in a few days, if not earlier!"

Well, well..! That went surprisingly well... But you did hear what she said, didn't you..? 'It'd be nice to have some friends again...' Don't get your hopes up about this one, Kim... She's just using you to patch up a hole in her life, and she'll throw you into the dirt when she's found someone better...

There must be a reason she doesn't have any friends... Maybe that sweet personality she showed is just a facade... She might just be a bitter asshole... Wouldn't that be a shame, putting time and effort into meeting someone new, and she turns out to just be taking advantage of you for her own selfish reasons...

Update notes: June 4, 2023:

• Minor update to the quote in the chapter header.
• Some dialogue edits that mildly alter Andrea and Kimberly's initial dynamic. Not too much, but I want to steer it in a certain direction quicker.
• Also standardized the trailing punctuation of Kimberly's anxiety voice.

 

[SuperTrainStationH]

Prologue: The Wilted Flower review -

Oh shucks, an elaborately created original-region with original characters developed over a long period and a story that’s seemingly been rebooted or retooled over multiple pre-existing iterations?

Boy this is speaking to my heart as a creator. The introductory post gave me a brief overview of the setting and what to expect from the story without drowning me in lore or setup, which is an easy trap to fall into after being to proud of creating something and eager to draw people in.

As for the first prologue, WELL no matter how much history or detail or creativity a writers has, few things can make a fantasy setting feel more solid and credible than realistic feeling characters with relatable problems.

Even a cross-town drive to a fast food restaurant can make for a meaningful narrative if the stakes are established for the viewers, and I feel like Andrea Dennison (which is a very cool name without being flashy or showy) could be just any real person who I might overhear talking about their problems on the phone with someone on the train or in a restaurant.

In what so far just seems like one young person’s struggle to take care of themselves and remain constructively occupied, I’m hooked already, and look forward to reading more!

Thanks for writing!

 

[SuperTrainStationH]

Chapter 1: First Impressions review -


Reiland Institute’s building strikes me as the sort of place where they built it in this ancient city thinking “yeah we’re gonna modernize this city with this sleek contemporary building” and it just ends up looking dated and tired while all the old stuff around it looks as great as it did several centuries ago.

Even just hearing about the cafeteria selections was neato.

We got here pretty quickly actually, we could have had a lingering scene of Andrea looking out the train window reflecting on her life’s journey, but NOPE straight to the Institute. Well not QUITE straight there, just a little establishment at the start to make real her discomfort and apprehension, which felt authentic to me

I’m interested in some of the less “fantastic” elements of Pokemon research that are having attention drawn to them here, like disease control in wildlife populations, and it seems like we could be getting more of that kind of stuff very soon.

I appreciate the courage the writer has in naming the spider Pokemon specialist Webster. Some might say its too on the nose, but why fear the obvious?

Look forward to more soon!

Thanks for writing!

 

[System Error]

Okay let's do some reading.

- Too bad Andrea isn't nerdy enough to reply WHAT IS A MAN? in response to the vampire accusation
- Fangirling intensifies.
- I always like fictional festivals not necessarily based on anything else.
- And there's the namedropping! Or at least, there was the name dorpping, but there was a rename.
- I have a plant that's been with me for a ridiculously long time myself. It's kind of grown out of control into a tangly mess, and there's even a piece of it that broke off and spouted when put in another flowerpot.
- Ah, old showers. Make for some great views, and some not so great ones.
- PikaPedia? I assume somebody was domain squatting on PokePedia. Or that it's an on-purpose reference to this very site.
- Shots fired at Lati@s design, woot
- I have the funny mental image of the two birds chasing after the one bug, then comedy strikes as all of them end up in the webs.
- Those are some pretty chill Pokemon
- Yup, here comes the Articuno theory.
- Shoutouts to the various devices of the month shoved into every mainline game. Hey, can't be worse than the C-Gear. Always asking you to turn it on twice, and sucking your battery in exchange for communicating with NOBODY AROUND YOU
- Oh hey, a reference to something real world that doesn't get a Pokemon rename! Cool stuff.
- And the theory gets confirmed, thanks to mystery beta testing device.
- The plot thickens. A decently powerful legendary Pokemon deciding to show up is indeed a serious environmental concern. And yet what do you do about it? What can you do about it?
- Welp, blurting things out intensifies. Good thing they're pretty chill.
- And speaking of pretty chill, it's not just a theory. It's for real.
- A much more colorful title for it than what the Pokedexes give.
- I like that it's explicitly only very rare rather than Legendary. And yet also very insanely Pokedexy. At least it's reasonable and not ridiculously over the top like that one in the second anime movie.

Well, things got interesting in a hurry. The plot thickens...but will anything be done about it, or is this simply going to be one of life's great mysteries that goes unsolved? It remains to be seen, but will be seen as I keep reading on.

 

[System Error]

Okay, let's get all the way caught up.

Interlude 1
- Hey, ghost Pokemon are pokes too
- This is a fun little conversation
- Just changing one or two letters, the hallmark of a not-website. Although Instaglam sounds more fashionable and about what one wears
- And it seems uh it is about that...
- Man tfw your coworkers just look you up everywhere. And plan to abuse it
- Also did she just get reverse doxxed?
- Fires from a vampire restuarant? Clearly it was for liking Jacob better.
- Shoutouts to that dress in trainers of fanfiction
- Never imagined she'd be a League nerd. Let alone one of those boob-themed strimmers

Prologue 2
- Serenity now for Kim, that is until her mom interrupted
- Oh, or, her girlfriend/wife. Also wow, my love. Old fashioned high class.
- Well already they are ridiculously loveydovey
- Hm, Kim seems to be a bit head in the clouds from her being lost when the phone rings
- Oh dear, we have a traumatic flashback
- Okay forced to correct myself again, heh. The whole girlfriend thing was the tripping
- Overbearing not family, ugh
- Well at least he is a loyal butler and bodyguard
- He does know what he's talking about. There's a saying, where there's money there's thieves. Buuuut it also seems Kim was dating Nicole and though they're amiable exs they still don't want her around
- Dude is hars to read overall. But I'm settling on cool and chill, Kim is just a paranoid and in her rebellious phase as an adult
- Ah and talking of rejection. I'd laugh if jt was just wrong orientation. With her it wouldn't surprise me if it really was that simple
- And there it is. Medical side effects are no joke. Had one that brought out a Jekyll and Hyde effect in me.
- I can also attest keeping track of meds can be a pain if it's not in your routine

C6
And now for the main event, getting to a massive one after those previous which I read on phone. Well, let's get to it!

- Not how I was expecting an Arcade to look like. Seems more like a themed club, maybe an adult's Chuck E Cheese or something...
- For someone eager to get away from her bodyguard, Kim seems unusally set on having him there.
- Although calling it a dungeon too. This is either going to get weird or kinky. Maybe both.
- Going beyond even Mega Evolution, which mostly should've been normal ones anyway!!!
- Well, name could use some work, but not that I could do better without a bunch of thinking about it. Hey, keeping the Hound-part is important for thematics, so you can only do so much. Least it wasn't Houndeath
- At least Nicole has something she's good at and isn't just a fortune inheritor
- Huh, wasn't expecting her to be dating a guy, but it's probably for celebrity image reasons or her mom.
- Yup, her mom's, confirmed a couple paragraphs later.
- She certainly does have a point about finding out for sure, know some who found out that way
- Mmm, can't really take Kim's side here. Sometimes opportunity knocks unexpectedly, and you have two choices: keep to your schedule and throw it away, or jump for it.
- The image she's putting on? From their interactions, I thought that really was her
- When girl meets girl
- Shoutouts again to your own username in the dress name. Also suddenly randomly remembering this one comic that was like two lesbians going "Whoa she's cute," and both walking away going "Too bad she's probably straight"
- Awkardness, heh.
- I do find it amusing they go pretty far in without giving names, until Andrea surprisingly recognizes Kim
- That feel when an accent gets called exotic when there's no sign of it in the dialogue. Then again, I was found exotic by an American for being a Canadian, so I can buy it.
- The rich always want to make more money
- Kim raises a good point about Andrea's poverty. Of course we know, but the other option she might not be considering is she spends all her money on makeup and dresses
- Abusive ownership can sum up top level gaming ownership of Pokemon well
- I guess in this world, Coordination is in a better spot than in the games, but worse than the anime. Neat history for it too!
- Already calling her friend, hee.
- Gorilla in a suit, that's a good one. I'd swipe it if I had any characters who were snarky enough for it.
- In before the stairs break under him and he walks up anyway, because he is that committed to his job
- I like the idea of different takes on coordination. And this is better than the anime's not-Gyms, we need more battling!!
- The woman's touch part reminds me to always say, the world needs more male coordinators. And ideally, male coordinators who are in no way a stereotype.
- Kim's inner voices grappling...
- Huh, thought Kim would have some fans in the narrow world of coordination. Although maybe she does and haven't met any.
- Stealth asking for numbers!
- Andrea being a memelord seems fitting in a weird way. Also explains her online profiles.
- Hm, from Kim's doubts and lamentations here, I get the feeling she was badly burned in the past and whatever it was simply hasn't come up yet. Or she's a massive cynic. Or both.

Well, I can definitely see how you're having problems getting the two together, heh. They seem like they'd make great friends, but with their established characters, it's going to take work to get them as lovers. And sometimes sadly, no matter what you do, your characters might not do what you want them to! A bit of an oxymoron to say that, yes, but still, get what I'm getting at, right?

Until that time comes though, the best thing I can suggest is to keep writing on! Don't even bother trying to think about how to get them together, just write and it will come naturally - or maybe your story will veer off in an unexpected direction. IIRC Stephen King once said a good writer will let a story go where it wants to. Besides, Andrea still has a plot of her own that doesn't necessarily need to involve Kimberly - even though Kimberly wants her involved for validation purposes. Which is probably where Kim's plot might end up faltering come to think of it - maybe by design, but she's kind of a loner with all of three characters in her section of the story, all of whom she doesn't seem to like in certain ways. Of course there's just two chapters with her so I dunno what you have planned.

Anyway, some musings on your writer's blockage aside, I still like this fic a lot and hope to see more it!

 

[Ryoma Maser]

Starts fumbling down imaginary stairs. "God I'm so so so late to reviewing this!!" So, hello. It's about time I get to this despite reviewing so much of the previous rewrite, well time to use this reviewing event as an excuse to do this.

I'm going to take a similar approach to what System Error did in their reviewing style to with a few quotes here and there.

Prologue:
-Ooo, new email not seen in the previous versions.
-Ah school, only getting the basics of your problems and never helping.
-And as usual, school doesn't even prepare you for the outside world and yet you can get chemistry degrees despite it with student debt.

She shook her head. "Forgiven. It's impossible to be mad at you."

Maybe I took more inspiration from this fic than I thought with my characters.
-Oo, she's now bringing Pokémon with her. I kinda like the irony she has the spider motif but she doesn't own the spider mons.
-Marrowmite, like that name.
-Yay! Ariados, Johto Pokémon love!
-How do you fit a Pokéball into your stocking? I know they have that retractable size mode, but you still put it there instead of your purse?

Chapter 1:
-Maybe this region is not the Great Britain inspire one I thought it always was; it must good old Canada!
- Yeah, labs are more boring than they sound Andrea.
-Andrea, luck is not going to come help you. I know from experience, way too much experience.
-Okay, Patrick is appreciate of goth culture. Good.
-Snow in May? Yep, definitely Canada. Or maybe Greenland.

"I made a terrible mistake by withdrawing from everyone... probably made my recovery longer than it had to be... but it felt like the right move at the time..."

I know that feeling, but sometimes withdrawing is the best move for better or worse in the long run.
-Oh yeah, Andrea's prodigy-ness I got inspiration for Tomoko for that even if I did make her a little older than Andrea is now and slightly different majors.
-Schools, only care about sports even if they suck. I have a department that's falling apart but got fund our terrible American Football team.
-Patrick brings up the spider irony.

"Yeah..." She leaned over the table and pushed her hair out of the way, pointing to a mark just below her hairline above her eyebrow piercing. "See that scar? I got bonked on the head by a baby Cubone about three years ago. They said I needed, like, seventeen stitches?"

Man, Cubone did you have to be so ruthless?
-Back to the farm for the third time for me!
-Does no one know what softball is apparently? My sister did while we were growing up but really no one?

Chapter 2:
-Be the quiet girl you were destined to be Andrea! I feel you.
-Ah, the Lair returns and not the type you were thinking of.
-Shady Oak, the next professor Oak that we must have for some reason.
-Ah yes lampshading the stupid trainer thing in the mainline games.
-Yeah, I suck at talking to people too.
-Donphan in the wild along the way is a rare sight I imagine, kinda weird for a small elephant anteater like Pokémon.

Chapter 3:
-Petalfall Festival, I kinda want to see that.
-Hotel/motel rage, know that well in my family.
-Wall beds, I don't think see those much nowadays.
-Social interaction is hard. Most of it makes me uncomfortable.
-Talk cause of overstepping boundaries and new girl squad.
-Coocluck sounds alright for an original mon, have we had a chicken/rooster Pokémon besides the Torchic line?
-There's always the questions that have to come out wrong no matter what, Patrick is a prying one.

Chapter 4:
-Oh god, the accent text (if that's how you would describe it) makes things a tad confusing but that's point I presume, it was always there so get use to it Ryoma.
-IT'S OVER PATRICK! EMILY! THIS RANDOM FARMER AND I HAVE THE HIGHGROUND!!
-YES! The boots gag return!!
-Grumpooses? Gumshoos evolution?
-Oh hey, someone knows softball!
-Can't throw to save your life Patrick? That's why you bring Tennis Ball cannon!

"Conquetzador?" Diarmad asked incredulously. "At this time o' year? This part o' the worl'?

Did you really just reference steam hams from Simpsons?
-Ah Pokédexes, they made such a big deal out of them and they really didn't mean nothing. Well, until recently.
-Alice and Andrea new ship? The former called her cute..

Chapter 5:
-Ah a meeting that never happened in either version. I don't think I ever recall seeing Nicole in person in original or the first rewrite with Andrea or Kimberly.

She smiled and stifled a laugh. "Yeah, I know. It'd be hard not to know. Lanark is the 'Land of the Roses' after all. Not to mention the fact that I'm growing some back at home."

Title drop for the old fic name!
-What Patrick? I'm not goth but Black Roses are cool!
-I guess Emily and Patrick are surrogate sibling close?
-So first version crazy mushroom dude, second go no exploration just orange forest, now third charm is Articuno. Man, what's next you gonna find Celebi in there?
-Oh no, the R-Kit is a Rotom Dex.
-And Patrick being reckless is still a trait as usual.

Interlude I: Skipping this as it's pretty similar to what I've read before in the previous version.

Prologe II: Electric Boogaloo.
-Does Kimberly have a crush on Nicole? Cause that's what it looks like.
-Ah hello, Kimberly's version of Patrick I mean Tobey.
-Hello inner voice, you're new. I guess the zalgo you were trying didn't work out.
-Anxiety medication, oof. I'm glad I don't have stuff like that, but I've know people with stuff like that and the attacks are bad and Tobey here sounds like it will make it worse.

Chapter 6:
-Dark Dungeon Arcade? Where have you've been all my life? That's perfect for me.
-Owain is a strange name for a Hydreigon in my opinion.
-Though I agree with you Tobey, those are cool impractical in main games but cool.
-God not one of these people with Tobey.
-Houndecay? Hm, probably still more viable than a Mega Houndoom.
-Oh and Andrea is one who asked, didn't catch that till re-reading.
-I hate snoopers as well Kimberly.
-Parents! They don't think you're good for anything even if they're doing the exact same thing you were doing.

I'm talkin' real wilderness survival shit, spendin' a couple weeks up in the Dornoch Mountains, fightin' bears, survivin' blizzards and pushin' my team beyond their limits."

-Damn Nicole, you are the incarnation of that one Legends meme! Go fight a Ursaring barehanded!
-Friends change and then you missed the old them.
-Kimberly thinks Andrea is cute, Kimdrea returns full force!!
-And they meet! And Andrea actually knows Kimberly beforehand in this version!
-A lot of Storm Island talk! Should I just hunt it down and read it at this point?
-God Andrea, you're more negative than me!
-Coordination, always forgotten and never given attention just a girls thing anime wise and honestly what everyone gives to female protagonists like Leaf or Kris with no goals.
-Dewgongs jumping through fire? Well, at least their useful now.
-Ah yes, this from the first version! Despite meeting so soon already invites.
-Andrea is not the one I expect for memes.


And that is everything!! It's good to be back in Lanark again! I've known you've had trouble writing as late but I'm looking forward to coming back each and every time a new one comes out, review or not!