COMPLETE: Communication (TEEN)

[Sike Saner]

diamondpearl876: BRB, GOTTA LAUGH FOR LIKE SEVEN BILLION YEARS AT THAT TYPO

Seriously, I am laughing so hard that I keep breaking into coughing fits here. How the heck did I not catch that one?

I think it goes without saying which one I mean. X)

ANYWAY. Good heavenly grief, it's good to run into someone who's in agreement about snorunt and the cuteness thereof. If only more people could see the light. Then it might be easier to find snorunt merch.

Someday. Someday I will have my life-size snorunt plush.

I'll see what I can do about the fiddly words over the weekend. I thhhhhhink I might have a fix in mind for the "whose" thing. Sadly said fix won't be making the cavern sentient, amusing though that might be. I ought to write me some genius loci fic of some sort someday.

But for now, I've got some shit to clean up. X3

Anyway, thanks a thousand for the read 'n' review!

 

[diamondpearl876]

diamondpearl876: BRB, GOTTA LAUGH FOR LIKE SEVEN BILLION YEARS AT THAT TYPO

IT WAS THE PERFECT TYPO THOUGH YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND THAT TYPO TELLS ME WE CAN BE FRIENDS

ANYWAY. Good heavenly grief, it's good to run into someone who's in agreement about snorunt and the cuteness thereof. If only more people could see the light. Then it might be easier to find snorunt merch.

Snorunt are cute because I imagine they waddle when they walk. Though I do like froslass more than glalie. Sorry.

Anyway, thanks a thousand for the read 'n' review!

No problem. I'll be back for the other half I didn't read some other time.

 

[diamondpearl876]

Solonn awoke several hours later, unaware of how much time had passed since his failure within the contest hall. His eyes opened to a view of Morgan’s room, which was more dimly lit than usual.

I was going to mention this last time. I just wanted to say that the contest snuck up on him very quickly without him having done much training. I would have been pretty mad if he won right away, but he didn't, lmao. Now all I can think is: "POOR SOLONN."

performance. He’d been in such a rush to get that first step toward home behind him, and it was because of that haste that his goal now lay further away.

Also, I've noticed that Solonn hasn't thought about his mother or Zigil since he got captured. Why is that?

She started to take the rare candy out of the drawer, but then hesitated. “Solonn… are you sure you’re really ready for this?”

I gotta say, I feel a little underwhelmed by his decision. I thought it'd be a bigger thing when the time came. It's just one loss. It was his first time. He doesn't know for sure whether it was nerves, or lack of practice, or anything else. He's taking the quick way out, which, given his situation, is understandable, but... It doesn't entice the readers.
EDIT: Well, at least he likes his new form. Such a cutie.

Solonn would have shrugged if it weren’t for the fact that he no longer had shoulders. “Well, uh… I’ve always been kind of tall,” he said in his new, much deeper voice, “but I have to admit, this is…” He trailed off, at a loss for words. He was easily half again the size of even the largest glalie he’d ever seen, and he had no idea why.

Wonder if this has anything to do with his disappearance, which has yet to be explained (unless I missed something).

Morgan glanced backwards at where her belt was hung. Solonn’s great ball gave off a slight, teal glint in the soft lamplight. “Yeah, I know,” she said, still sounding rather guilty about the whole matter, “but…”

Okay, now I just noticed we've barely seen anyone outside of Sei recently. What happened to the team?!?! Though I could understand if Solonn is getting special treatment because he's new and needs ribbons, unlike the others.

In the weeks that followed, Solonn underwent a far more stringent regimen of training and rehearsing than the one preceding his previous contest appearance, and he did so at his own request. On occasion, he spent an entire night rehearsing his routine alone in the backyard.

Ah, here we go. The real training begins.

They don’t matter, he thought resolutely. This is about something far beyond them.

Did he just go all philosophical on me?

Then the song abruptly ended, and Solonn’s performance did likewise. The lights cut out; when they came back on a second later, there wasn’t a trace of ice or of snow to be found anywhere. Nothing remained of the wintry spectacle save for the glalie who’d made it happen.

That'd be something to see in real life. ...Why can't pokemon be real? SOBS

“We’ll try our psybeam and water pulse combo again, then,” Alex said. “He’s sure to dislike it…”

Woah. That's some evil dialogue right there.

All at once, he was rather appalled at himself. Good gods, have I seriously been attacking that? How could I have even considered doing harm to such a beautiful creature? How could anyone? A very cheesy smile crept across his face as he surveyed Kelly from across the stage. Look at her, over there… so elegant… so exotic… those eyes… that tail!

Solonn in love... Oh, God.

As such, Solonn was left home alone for several hours on end nearly every day. Even Morgan’s other pokémon weren’t around to keep him company; most of them preferred to remain in their capture balls at nearly all times, for whatever reason. Sei didn’t, but she preferred to go out into the city while the humans were away, doing gods only knew what.

Well, there's an explanation about what I mentioned previously, but I kind of think you're missing out on a lot of potential with Morgan's other pokemon. They're supposed to be a team, right? Can't the other pokemon give Solonn tips? Tell stories about their experiences? Be sparring partners? Anything?

The only thing he could think of that would make these sessions better was if he could operate Morgan’s stereo.

A glalie operating a stereo... The image is real.

The sableye took a moment to consider the question. “Almost,” he responded. Then he planted a very juicy kiss right on the diamond-shaped patch of bare hide in the middle of Solonn’s forehead. With that, he sprang off of the glalie’s head and into the grass, then turned and gave Solonn a Cheshire grin. “Buh-bye!” he said cheerfully, then scampered off across the lawn, scaled the fence, and disappeared over the side.

THE CUTENESS IS ALSO REAL
now all i need is a mega-sableye giving his gem to solonn as a gift and i'm complete

. “You did it, Cleo!” he congratulated the venomoth, happily scampering across the lawn to join her.

I knew that was Cleo before the big reveal. I deserve a medal.

He didn’t know what this place was or why he’d been taken here, but he was quite sure he didn’t want to stay to find out.

I have a question. Do you think you write like anyone published? Someone I might know? There's something about your writing style that reminds me of someone, but I can't really put my finger on it. I've pointed this out, but you're wordy sometimes. Try dropping adverbs. Try not pointing out the obvious, like you did with the quoted sentence. At any rate, I'll be positive and say you do have good descriptions. They're very... magical and showy, as they should be or a contest.

“It was a mean look,” Morgan said hoarsely. “I found a sableye right out there.” She pointed at the thick, maroon curtain hanging at the front of the room; Solonn had assumed it was another wall, but now recognized that someone could just push it out of the way and pass right through. “He was using that technique to keep you within a certain distance of him—until I hit him in the head with this.” She raised the hammer, then let it fall to the floor. “He’s out cold now.”

MORGAN TO THE RESCUE
LIKE A BOSS

Solonn set off in an instant, achieving his maximum velocity quickly.

Just giving an example of a redundant adverb, which I've seen a lot in your story. "in an instant" AND "maximum velocity" AND "quickly" all insinuate the same idea. I'd get rid of "quickly" and work with sentences like this a bit more.

“Just stay away from Lilycove for a week or two, just to be safe, and in the meantime, I’ll try to get a hold of someone who can get you home. I promise. Maybe… maybe the others will be found by then… then Sei or Ominous could take you. But if you find some way to get home on your own… go ahead and take it. Please. Don’t wait for me if you don’t have to.”

oh god what is happening
you rarely see writers let trainers release their pokemon, but HERE IT IS
and it's for a good reason, not just "i want to leave"
BLESS YOUR SOUL
and with that I'm all caught up. Good luck in the awards and whatnot. I'll be around for more.

 

[Sike Saner]

Iiiiiii... can't think of anyone I write like, actually. (Or wrote like; some of this stuff's pretty old, heh.) I'm kind of running through the list of published people I actually read on a regular basis, but none of their stuff really reminds me of mine. Though that's partly because I don't really write any hardish sci-fi to speak of.

Anyway. THE ADVERBS. I feel ya there. It is way too easy to get carried away with them. And to make redundant passages, even without 'em.

This is the part where I tried to come up with an analogy about a pizza buffet or some such, but it just... It didn't want to come together. Maybe if I'd been hungrier.

With regards to the rest of Morgan's... idk, I hesitate to call them a team, as they're contest pogeys... Troupe maybe? Actually nah, team sounds better. Anyway. Yeah, if the storyline had been zoomed in a little more, there'd have probably been much more in the way of training montages, more scenes of Morgan's pokeymans shootin' the shit, some added backstory, probably. I've thought more than once that this story mmmmmmight?? have actually been better off as a series. I think I was just a smidge too fillerphobic during the writing of this thing to, well. To let the pacing breathe, heh.

Though there's little at this point to stop me from, say, maybe writing up some one-shots about these characters just living their lives. Consider me tempted. 8D

As for Xi, oh, he'd give him the gem, all right. Same way he gave him the fruit.

...If you just throw a giantass ruby-or-whatever at a glalie, is it super-effective?

Science will find out elsewhen, assuming it hasn't already. In the meantime, I'm gonna stop rambling and go tend to a certain dragon-based browser game. Thanks hugely for stopping by the thread again!

 

[Arkadelphiak]

There are two things:

#1
The story is still looking good.

#2
THE TYPO


That is all.

 

[Sike Saner]

Arkadelphiak: The Typo is a thing of beauty. Though it has since been edited out of the story itself, its legacy will endure forever, whether Solonn likes it or not.

Anyway...

_____________________

Chapter 9 – Convergence​

Very tall, thick grass surrounded Solonn, swaying slowly in a light breeze. Beneath him, the grass was flattened; he’d tried to sleep there the night before, to no avail. There, he now sat under the pale pink morning sky, gazing out into the east. Though it was too far away for him to actually see, the city he’d fled stood there beneath the rising sun.

His abductors might have been combing Lilycove for him at that very moment. They might even have extended their search outside the city limits.

He didn’t know if his enemies were likely to find him before his allies could. Despite his worries, he still managed to hold on to some hope that Morgan could appear through the grass at any moment with the news that their friends were safe and she was ready to take him home.

These were precisely the sorts of thoughts that had kept Solonn awake all night. Countless times, his eyes had begun to close, only to immediately fly open again and dart about fretfully in search of anyone who might have been approaching him.

Solonn couldn’t recall having been so on edge in his life, and he wondered how he’d be able to sleep that night if he still hadn’t heard from Morgan or anyone else who could help him. He also wondered how he was going to feed himself at this point. While he’d lived with Morgan, she’d always provided for him. She’d given him that flavored snow to eat before he’d evolved, and afterward she’d given him specially-formulated pokémon food designed to meet the needs of a large carnivore without requiring them to do their own hunting.

Now, without Morgan to feed him, he had no choice but to take on his natural role as an active predator. Solonn was anything but eager to go through with it. His hunger was steadily growing, but through minute after minute, hour after hour, he’d ignored its pleas. He was determined to continue doing so for as long as he could.

He began to wonder just how long he could go without food. Morgan had always fed him twice a day. He didn’t know how frequently the glalie back in Virc-Dho hunted; they didn’t discuss such matters with snorunt.

Solonn suspected this was so that the snorunt would be able to accept the instincts that came with evolution without any prior misgivings about predation in the way. He’d had those misgivings precisely ever since learning that glalie were carnivores. Still, the instincts were there inside him, as much a part of him as of any other glalie. He tried ignoring them, but they remained stubbornly in place, waiting for his inevitable surrender.

He winced slightly at yet another pang of hunger. Morgan had fed him prior to leaving for school the day before, and he hadn’t had anything since. Though he’d looked forward to the day when he’d regain his independence, the fact of the matter was that he’d fallen into the habits of a human’s pokémon. He’d become unused to fending for himself, and he certainly wasn’t prepared for anything along the lines of “roughing it”.

A brief rustling in the grass alerted Solonn to a newly-arrived presence not too far away. He turned and saw the glow of the newcomer’s body heat, which seemed to flicker as it shone between the swaying blades of grass. Something stirred in the back of his mind, trying to persuade him to see the solution that lay in this discovery.

Take them, it seemed to say. Take them and know relief.

Solonn paid no mind to it, closing his eyes and turning away from the creature. He silently reminded himself that whatever the creature was, they were not prey. Still, his instincts pleaded their case, but still, Solonn managed to tune them out, even as they seemed to emphasize their point by sending another hunger pang down into his belly.

I’m not doing it, he argued, gritting his teeth. Good gods, I’m not starving to death yet…

His physical demands wouldn’t be silenced, however, and they presented yet another unbidden argument: You’d better get used to this—it’s how you’ll be feeding yourself for the rest of your life. There aren’t going to be any humans around to feed you when you get back to Virc-Dho.

Solonn sighed in resignation. There was the undeniable truth of the matter: his independent survival required him to embrace his predatory nature. There’d be no processed pokémon food where he was going. There would only be prey—lives he’d have to end for the sake of his own. He knew he’d ultimately have to accept it. But he couldn’t imagine ever liking it.

With considerable reluctance, he turned back toward his would-be prey, rose from the ground, and began moving in their direction. The creature had drawn closer to him since he’d last looked toward them, as if oblivious to his presence; even moving at minimal speed, Solonn would be upon them swiftly.

As Solonn approached, he called upon his element, summoning ice to hold the prey in place and prevent their escape. The hapless creature started screaming at once, their voice shrill and surprisingly loud to be coming from such a tiny throat and tiny lungs.

Solonn tried to shut out the cries, but his keen hearing allowed him no such refuge. Struggling to steel himself for the task that lay ahead, he pushed his way through the grass separating him from his prey and looked upon them directly for the first time.

There, with ice encasing her legs and tail, a female zigzagoon screamed again and again. Seeing the huge face of her captor looming before her had only heightened her terror. Her head thrashed and her spine arched as she fought to free herself, but her struggles were useless—in truth, she knew this just as well as Solonn did. Closing her eyes, she fearfully awaited her imminent demise.

Solonn could almost taste his prey’s fear on the air as he prepared to deliver the killing strike. She’d freeze solid in an instant. She wouldn’t have time to suffer. He just needed to tap into that power, and the deed would be done…

He hissed and wrenched himself away from her. He couldn’t do it. He just couldn’t. You should’ve just taken her out when you first noticed her. You shouldn’t have looked at her first.

Solonn looked back at the zigzagoon, whose features were contorted almost grotesquely in mortal terror. His throat constricted, and his stomach went sour, extinguishing his appetite. With a hiss of disgust, he instantly vaporized the ice holding the zigzagoon in place.

After a second’s delay, she dared to open her eyes. She stared up at Solonn with a wild gaze, paralyzed with fear and confusion.

“Go,” Solonn said abruptly. “Just go.”

The zigzagoon remained rooted to the spot, fixed in place by disbelief. Her jaw worked almost imperceptibly, as if she were trying to speak.

Solonn didn’t wait for her to pull her words together. “Go!” he shouted, darting at her to emphasize his point. With a squeak of fright, the zigzagoon scrambled away as fast as she could, with not a single glance behind her.

Solonn sank wearily to the ground, more than a little disgusted with himself. Gods’ mercies, you almost killed that poor creature… He shuddered as he thought of what would have happened if his reluctance hadn’t gotten the better of him.

“Well, that was certainly magnanimous of you,” said a jovial and utterly unexpected voice.

Quite startled in his rather compromised state, Solonn spun around instantly to face its source. He found a swellow hovering in midair before him, his beating wings stirring the grass below. Solonn wondered how this creature had managed to sneak up on him.

The swellow landed, pushing the tall grass out of his face with his wings. “You know, ordinarily I might hesitate to stop and chat with an ice-type such as yourself, but given what I’ve just witnessed here, I’d dare assume yours to be safe company,” he said, then bowed. “Do allow me to introduce myself. I am the swellow Jal’tai. And you are…?”

Still slightly bewildered by the pokémon who’d appeared in his midst so suddenly, Solonn responded with a bit of a delay. “Solonn Zgil-Al,” he introduced himself; then, after a short pause, he added, “the—”

“Oh, I know, I know,” Jal’tai interrupted with a chuckle. “You don’t need to tell me what you are, Mr. Zgil-Al. There’s no mistaking a glalie for anything else once you’ve seen one. So, then. I haven’t seen you around these parts before. Have you only recently relocated here?”

“I guess you could say that,” Solonn replied. “I mean, I haven’t exactly moved here permanently…” The swellow cocked his head inquisitively. Solonn hesitated at first to elaborate, but then reckoned it was safe as long as he didn’t give away too many details. “I’ve just escaped from human kidnappers in Lilycove,” he told the swellow. “I’m just lying low in this area until I can find some way to get back where I came from, across the sea.”

“Oh my… that must have been harrowing,” Jal’tai remarked, sounding both astounded and pitying. “Thank goodness you escaped, then. Say… if you need a place to stay, I know an excellent candidate.” He took on a rather grand pose, puffing out his feathered chest. “I don’t reside in this area, either; I just like to come here every now and again for a break from all the hustle and bustle back home. I come from a city in the west, and it’s the greatest city in the world, in my opinion. And I’d bet anything you’d agree with me, given the chance to see it with your own eyes! You could stay safe from your pursuers there, and in far more comfortable conditions than you’ll find out here. Plus, I’m certain you’d find a means to cross the sea there—that is, if you’ll want to leave!” the swellow added with another chuckle. “So, what do you say, hmm? Can I tempt you with a stay in my beloved city?”

Solonn eyed him somewhat skeptically. “That’s a very nice offer, but… well, I’d really rather not enter another human city if I can avoid it—that is what you’re talking about, isn’t it?”

Jal’tai blinked in surprise, then burst out into crowing laughter. “No, no! It’s not a human city, I assure you. You’d realize that very swiftly if you saw it for yourself. Oh, you’d be amazed at the things it has to show you…”

Solonn considered the swellow’s offer. Moving farther into the west, and thus farther from Lilycove, would keep him farther from the reach of his abductors. And the locals probably wouldn’t mind sharing their food with him as well as their shelter; he could already feel the relief of being spared the need to hunt for a while.

But at the same time, he couldn’t help but think of Morgan and her promise to return if she found a way to take him back to Virc-Dho. He didn’t want to discard all of his faith in her. And in all honesty, he still hoped to see her and her pokémon one last time, and preferably under happy circumstances. He wanted to bid them a proper farewell—the one they all deserved for treating him so well.

He hadn’t forgotten what else Morgan had said, though. She’d expressly told him that if he found another means to return home before she did, then he should take it. Solonn questioned whether or not this was truly what she wanted—would she really want to give up the chance to see him one last time?

But in the end, he decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. This was what she’d said she wanted. The least he could do was believe her.

“All right,” he said finally.

“Ah, excellent!” Jal’tai said, sounding supremely delighted. “Come, then, follow me!” With a powerful flap of his wings, Jal’tai took to the air, sending the grass below him into a frenzied dance as he set off very swiftly toward the west.

Solonn sighed wearily; the evening before had been quite taxing and his body still wasn’t quite ready to hurry anywhere. “Jal’tai? Excuse me, could you slow down a bit?” he called after the swellow as he struggled to keep the pace.

“Oh, of course!” the swellow responded, and slowed down significantly. “Terribly sorry about that. I just simply can’t wait to show you my city…”

As Solonn followed Jal’tai, he found the tall grass thinning, eventually disappearing altogether. Conversely, the trees were becoming denser and more plentiful as he continued westward. Soon, Solonn found himself in a true forest—and a bit of inconvenience.

“Jal’tai! Wait!” he shouted. Jal’tai had slowed down even further now that there wasn’t enough space for him to fly. Solonn would’ve had no problem keeping up with him if it weren’t for the fact that he was forced to pick his way between the trees that grew far enough apart to admit him.

Jal’tai halted and turned. There was a smile playing about his eyes that suggested he was holding back an urge to laugh. “I apologize on the trees’ behalf,” he said, the tiniest of chuckles managing to break through.

Solonn gave Jal’tai a dull glare, then continued trying to escape from the forest. “I do hope this ‘city’ of yours isn’t so—” He broke into a snarl as a branch on one of the trees he was squeezing past swatted him just below his left eye. “—infested with trees…”

“Oh heavens, no. The forest had to be cleared in that area before the city could be built—a necessary evil, I’m afraid, but I daresay it’s come to give more to the area than it’s taken. Anyway, you won’t have to suffer the vegetation much longer. We’re nearly there.”

This came as a surprise to Solonn; the only thing they seemed to be getting any closer to was another several acres of dense forest. Managing at last to catch up with Jal’tai after coming across a relatively sparse section of the forest, Solonn started looking about for signs of Jal’tai’s city, but still saw nothing but trees.

“Halt!” two voices shouted in unison. In nearly the same instant, a pair of stantler jumped out in front of Solonn and Jal’tai from behind two of the trees, landing gracefully on their dainty hooves. The stantler glared at them for a moment, lowering their golden antlers menacingly—then abruptly raised their heads once more and took a step back, looking alarmed.

“Oh! We… we didn’t realize it was you!” one of the stantler said.

“We’re so sorry… really, we are… very sorry…” the other one rambled.

“Well, that is why it’s wise to always look before you leap, now isn’t it?” Jal’tai said pleasantly.

The two stantler nodded. “Can… can you forgive us?” one of them asked.

Jal’tai gave a chuckle and a dismissive wave of his wing. “Oh, of course, of course,” he said. “No harm done at all. Now, why don’t you fellows let us in and then see about having someone else finish your shifts, all right? It doesn’t do to work too long; it’s absolutely murder on the nerves, as we’ve seen quite clearly.”

“Yes, yes, of course…” one of the stantler muttered. His eyes drifted from Jal’tai to Solonn, and the other stantler’s gaze followed. It was as if they’d actually failed to notice the large glalie hovering there up to that point.

“Yes, he’s with me. You know I wouldn’t let just any of them in,” Jal’tai said.

Both stantler hesitated for one last moment. Then they gave another quick nod and stepped aside.

“Thank you kindly,” Jal’tai said warmly, bowing his head as he passed between the two guards. “Right this way,” he said to Solonn, beckoning with his wing. “It’s right through here.”

“Where?” Solonn asked as he moved forward alongside Jal’tai. “I don’t see—”

The glalie was instantly stricken silent by the sight that had spontaneously appeared before him. All at once, the endless forest ahead of them was replaced by a thoroughly modern city. He could see the sky again; the only trees in sight lined the streets in neat rows and stood here and there in people’s yards. A few of the city’s inhabitants, varying in species, were strolling along the sidewalks or milling about in the lawns or on street corners. Every now and then, a vehicle cruised up or down one of the visible streets at an easygoing pace.

Still mesmerized by the city that had just appeared before him out of thin air, Solonn was a bit startled by the wing that clapped him heartily on the back then. He looked to the swellow beside him, who was smiling warmly in the fashion of his kind, the look in his eyes positively radiating pride.

“Welcome, my friend,” Jal’tai said, spreading his wings wide, “to Convergence, the city of a better future! Isn’t it magnificent?”

“Well…” Solonn began a bit awkwardly, furrowing his brow. Convergence had certainly made an impressive entrance, but beyond that… The fact of the matter was that he would’ve thought more of it if it hadn’t seemed so familiar. Solonn had gazed out the window at Lilycove enough times to know a human-style city when he saw one. “It’s certainly… er, doing well for itself, and I guess that’s nice, but… Jal’tai, I thought you said this wasn’t a human city…”

The swellow chuckled. “Yes, I most certainly did. And on closer inspection, you’ll realize that indeed, just as I stated, this is not a human city. Or do you not see the abundance of pokémon about?”

“What of it? Pokémon live in human cities, too,” Solonn pointed out.

“True, true… but there remains a very significant difference between those cities and this one. Why, look over there,” Jal’tai said, gesturing with his wing toward a truck that had stopped at a traffic light some distance before them. Its driver was large and hairy—and an ursaring. The light turned green, and the truck went on the move again, heading their way. Solonn could hear country music issuing from the vehicle’s radio; the bear was nodding her head and growling along faintly with the song.

“Now, there’s something you won’t see in a mere human city,” Jal’tai said.

The ursaring rounded a corner, pulled into a driveway, and stepped out of her truck. She then turned and spotted Jal’tai and Solonn. Her eyes widened, and she waved vigorously. “Hi!” she half-roared cheerfully from across the street.

“Good day to you, madam!” Jal’tai returned, waving back at her. “I might also add that Ms. Olcarion actually owns that lovely house,” he then informed Solonn. “As a matter of fact, all of those homes are owned by pokémon,” he said, indicating the three houses to the right of the ursaring’s home. “Independent pokémon, Solonn. Do you realize the significance of that?”

Without waiting for Solonn to answer, he continued. “In human cities, pokémon are second-class citizens—if even that.” Disgust flitted across his features. “But here, pokémon are afforded the same rights and opportunities as humans. They can own the same properties, operate the same vehicles, and enter the same occupations. Our academy offers education and training that only humans can receive elsewhere.

“This is a community with no parallel in the world today, one in which pokémon and humans can truly live and work as equals. Do you see now what makes Convergence great?”

Solonn nodded slightly, still absorbing Jal’tai’s claims. Were pokémon really such non-entities in human society? True, pokémon were taken from their homes without consent and made to live with their captors, but Morgan had never mistreated him or any of her other pokémon… If what Jal’tai said was true, then he’d been quite fortunate to end up with her rather than with a more typical human.

“Now, then,” Jal’tai said crisply. “I’m feeling rather in the mood for lunch of a sudden… How about you?”

Solonn made to answer Jal’tai, but his stomach beat him to it.

“Ah, right then,” Jal’tai said. “We’ll go to Whitley’s; it’s to die for…”

 

[diamondpearl876]

Tall, thick grass surrounded Solonn, swaying slowly in a light breeze. Beneath him, the grass was flattened; he’d tried to sleep there the night before, to no avail. There, he now sat under the pale pink morning sky, gazing out into the east. Though it was too far away for him to actually see, the city that he’d fled stood there beneath the rising sun.

The description in this opening paragraph is very simply, but the way you explain Solonn's actions at the same time kinda makes it cool.

She’d given him that flavored snow to eat before he’d evolved, and afterward she’d given him specially-formulated pokémon food designed to meet the needs of a large carnivore without requiring them to do their own hunting.

I guess that's one way to avoid hunting. Solonn has a right to be worried, since I remember him fretting about it in the past as a snorunt.

He tried ignore them, but they remained stubbornly in place, waiting for his inevitable surrender.

"ignoring" not "ignore"
I don't usually point out typos, but I kind of am starting to wish people would do that for me, so there it is.
I'd like to point out that these opening paragraphs seem kind of choppy. That may be due to some repetition. You explain Solonn's hunger and his fear of becoming a predator, then you immediately say "Solonn didn't know how long he could without food." Well, wasn't that already implied? It feels jarring to read it over and over, or to have that aspect shoved in my face over and over, so to speak.

He winced slightly at yet another pang of hunger. Morgan had fed him prior to leaving for school the day before, and he hadn’t had anything since. Though he’d looked forward to the day when he’d regain his independence, the fact of the matter was that he’d fallen into the habits of a human’s pokémon. He’d become unused to fending for himself, and he certainly wasn’t prepared for anything along the lines of “roughing it”.

You might have wanted to mention that last time he ate earlier, to make the flow better. At any rate, I wonder what happens when/if Solonn goes home.

Take them, it seemed to say. Take them and know relief.

This is kind of abstract and could mean anything (unless I'm reading it wrong), but it sounds so damn cool so I'll forgive you for that.

You’d better get used to this—it’s how you’ll be feeding yourself for the rest of your life. There aren’t going to be any humans around to feed you when you get back to Virc-Dho.

Your writing has an evil habit of expanding on a comment I made literally just a couple minutes ago.

And the locals probably wouldn’t mind sharing their food with him as well as their shelter; he could already feel the relief of being spared the need to hunt for a while.

I don't think this makes sense. The swellow just said it wasn't a human city, so why would Solonn think he can get away with hunting by eating other food instead?

“Oh, of course!” the swellow responded, and slowed down significantly. “Terribly sorry about that. I just simply can’t wait to show you my city…”

I don't think anything good is gonna come out of this. Sorry, Solonn.

Solonn gave Jal’tai a dull glare, then continued trying to escape from the forest. “I do hope this ‘city’ of yours isn’t so—” He broke into a snarl as a branch on one of the trees he was squeezing past swatted him just below his left eye. “—infested with trees…”

Well, this is an amusing image. Shut up, Solonn. Because a place "infested" (like the word choice) with ice and snow is so much better.

“Oh! We… we didn’t realize it was you!” one of the stantler said.

“We’re so sorry… really, we are… very sorry…” the other one rambled.

“Well, that is why it’s wise to always look before you leap, now isn’t it?” Jal’tai said pleasantly.

The two stantler nodded. “Can… can you forgive us?” one of them asked.

Haha, what? Maybe Jal'tai's got some kind of authority here. Or he's evil and everyone's scared for their lives.

“Yes, he’s with me. You know I wouldn’t let just any of them in,” Jal’tai said.

Okay, so Jal'tai has a thing with glalie, as he hinted at earlier as well. Why am I commenting all the time instead of reading? It's 7AM and I shouldn't be thinking so hard.

"It’s certainly… er, doing well for itself, and I guess that’s nice, but… Jal’tai, I thought you said this wasn’t a human city…”

Okay, so it looks like a human city. I thought it might, mostly because you slipped up earlier and hinted at Solonn eating more human food in the future. Was that intentional?

Solonn could hear country music issuing from the vehicle’s radio; the bear was nodding her head and growling along faintly with the song.

...This would easily be nominated for funniest scene in Serebii's awards.

“Now, then,” Jal’tai said crisply. “I’m feeling rather in the mood for lunch of a sudden… How about you?”

Solonn made to answer Jal’tai, but his stomach beat him to it.

“Ah, right then,” Jal’tai said. “We’ll go to Whitley’s; it’s to die for…”

WHAT DID I JUST READ?!
In all seriousness, you do have a knack for being creative and writing out of the ordinary plots I've never seen. So kudos to you.

 

[Sike Saner]

diamondpearl876:

Shut up, Solonn.

If I had a dollar for every time I've thought those exact three words, I'd have... idk at least $45 dollars. That's right: forty-five dollars dollars.

It's just an occupational hazard of being one of my protags, I guess. No matter how much I like them, they get heckled by me, I give them unflattering nicknames, I subconsciously turn them into their own mothers and make them drop a deuce onstage...

Anyway.

Rough starts... I suspect they're a common occurrence. Staring at a blank document for minutes on end, finally hammering out SOMETHING just to get the ball rolling, and then when it comes time to edit half the brainpower's been spent on the rest of the chapter, pfffff. Think I might try writing all the chapters in a single document next time. Maybe that'll alleviate the "daunting blank page" effect.

(It'd be more practical anyway, really, since I'm only gonna be posting the next fic once it's completed--no more years-long waits between chapters for anyone!)

Re: Solonn believing he can avoid hunting in Jal'tai's city: it's wishful thinking on his part, pure and simple.

TYPOS ARE EASY AS HECK TO OVERLOOK and as such I am glad to have them ferreted out for me. Especially in this case--I'd originally meant to put "to ignore", but "ignoring" sounds so much better oh my gosh. Definitely putting that in.

Ty muchly for the reply! :>

 

[Sike Saner]

Chapter 10 – Whitley's​

The swellow led Solonn deeper into Convergence, heading for the center of town. Along the way, Solonn spotted more of the city’s residents out and about. They were mostly pokémon, some of whom were using human-made devices—which was nice, he supposed, but he wished the electabuzz they passed would shut off that leaf blower sometime soon. He could still hear the thing from several blocks away.

Solonn also saw a pair of humans as he followed Jal’tai, and only a pair. It seemed that the pokémon outnumbered the humans here. As far as he could tell, though, the humans were happy to be living here. They were neither goggling nor blatantly avoiding looking at the pokémon citizens; it seemed they found nothing strange at all about the notion of pokémon outnumbering them and living their lives as if they were human themselves.

At last, Solonn and Jal’tai arrived at Whitley’s. The restaurant was a large, country-styled building with a fairly sizable, nearly empty parking lot. Above the entrance was a sign depicting an elderly, goateed man’s smiling face. The words “Whitley’s Family Restaurant” were spelled out beside the portrait—twice: once in what Solonn recognized as a form of human writing and once in a curious, unfamiliar script that seemed to be made up of eyes, with bars radiating out from them in varying shapes and at varying angles.

Solonn was able to read the first script just as he could whenever he’d seen it before, so he wasn’t terribly surprised that he could read the second script, as well. But there was more to his comprehension of the eyed letters than mere literacy, and he recognized this immediately.

Puzzled, he brought the matter up with Jal’tai. “That second kind of writing, there on that sign… There’s something different about it. I don’t know how to explain it other than that it just feels… more natural to read somehow.”

“Ah. I suppose you’ve never seen unown-script before.” Jal’tai smiled. “Well, Mr. Zgil-Al, there is a reason why it feels natural to read. It is our written language, the script of pokémon. Allow me to explain. The unown are a species of pokémon who are credited as the ones who eradicated many of the communication barriers between the peoples of the world. Many pokémon, myself included, believe that it was they who blessed the differing races of pokémon with the ability to understand both one another’s languages and the spoken languages of humans. But for some reason, their blessing failed to touch humans, leaving them unable to understand pokémon speech.

“The unown tried to solve the problem through the creation of a universal written language, a process so demanding that it apparently forced them to evolve to that specific end. They developed special written characters that they infused with a mysterious quality meant to render them instantly comprehensible to both pokémon and humans alike. And it worked, too, at least under some circumstances; with it, pokémon have been able to convey messages to humans that they could otherwise never receive. Sadly, the script failed to catch on—perhaps the cultures that used it were conquered or decimated by humans who trained pokémon to fight for them rather than communicating and living in harmony with them,” the swellow added, bitterness seeping into his tone.

“Anyhow,” he finished, “though the script fell short of a perfect solution, it was successful enough that we saw fit to celebrate and honor the unown and their tremendous efforts toward interspecies understanding by using unown-script as a sort of official ‘language’ of our city. All citizens are required to memorize all of its symbols, humans and pokémon alike.”

Solonn took another look at the sign and its message in unown-script, intrigued and quite impressed. That an entire species would literally transform itself in the name of promoting universal communication… He wondered what it would be like to actually meet one of them. What could he learn from them—especially given his own relationship with the concept of universal communication?

His eyes widened. Wait…

“Tell me, Mr. Zgil-Al,” Jal’tai spoke up crisply, interrupting Solonn’s reverie almost as soon as it had begun, “when you mentioned that unown-script felt ‘different to read’… did you mean as compared to human writing? I’ve always hoped to meet another who is human-literate just as I am.”

Solonn just barely managed to keep his jaw from dropping open. Stupid! he scolded himself. He fumbled internally for a means to repair any damage done. “Oh… no, I can’t read that,” he finally said, his words tumbling out a bit faster than he’d intended. “I just guessed that it said the same thing that it said below in the unown-script.”

“Hmm…” the swellow responded. “Well, perhaps if you’re interested, I could teach you to read human-script sometime, hmm? In the meantime… I daresay we’ve tarried outside for long enough. Why wait a moment longer when food’s right inside? Come on, then!”

Solonn followed Jal’tai to the thankfully large front doors, which opened for them automatically. They entered the restaurant, which was warmly lit by a large number of hanging, stained-glass lamps, and were immediately greeted by a hitmonchan in a tuxedo.

“Ah! You grace our presence in person yet again!” the hitmonchan exclaimed. “And this gentleman is your guest?” he asked, at which Jal’tai nodded. “Very well, then. Please, let me show you to your usual table.”

The hitmonchan beckoned them toward the back of the restaurant. They passed a table where a female human sat feeding small morsels of meat to a baby makuhita in a high chair that barely accommodated him. Solonn spotted an area off in one corner of the restaurant that was enclosed by slightly tinted, soft plastic walls with a zippered door flap. Inside, several koffing and grimer laughed around a pile of something slimy and rotten-looking beneath a large exhaust fan. In another corner, two magnemite contently orbited a peculiar, seven-foot-tall, towerlike structure that hummed faintly with electricity.

Jal’tai’s “usual table” was located in a private room in the very back of the restaurant. The room was decorated with paintings of landscapes on every wall and a potted shrub in every corner. A modest chandelier hung above the table in the center of the room, with small light bulbs rather than candles shining in its arms.

Jal’tai perched atop his seat, his talons gripping the back of his chair while his tail feathers draped over it toward the floor. Solonn, being quite large, quite heavy, and just not equipped for sitting in chairs in general, merely pushed the one at the opposite end of the table aside and sat down in its place, grateful to be out of the air again after all the traveling he’d done lately.

“Your orders, then, sirs?” the hitmonchan prompted.

“Oh, it’ll be the Cerulean fish platter for me. Yes, again,” Jal’tai said with another of his chuckles. “And for him… oh, just give him the Specialty of the House to start with. And you know where to send the bill, of course.”

“Yes, sir!” the hitmonchan confirmed enthusiastically, then departed their table and the room.

“Isn’t it refreshing to see pokémon holding occupations other than ‘gladiator’?” Jal’tai said wistfully. He sighed. “Alas, the indignities we suffer at the hands of humans… Which reminds me, Mr. Zgil-Al: what of those humans from whom you escaped? Do you have any idea what their motives might’ve been?”

Solonn was taken a bit by surprise even though he hadn’t exactly expected that his abduction wouldn’t come up again; he’d just rather strongly hoped it wouldn’t. Recovering quickly enough, “No idea whatsoever,” he lied. “Frankly, I’m glad I never got the chance to find out.”

“Indeed,” Jal’tai said. “You’ve certainly been spared a most degrading fate.”

You don’t know the half of it… Solonn held Jal’tai’s gaze for a moment more, then let his eyes flit about from one painting on the wall to another in the awkward silence that hung in the air until Jal’tai spoke again.

“You mentioned fleeing from Lilycove… I’ve not heard of an ice-type colony anywhere in that vicinity—believe me, as a flying-type I would make sure to find out about it!” Jal’tai said with a laugh. “No offense, of course,” he added quickly but coolly.

“Meh,” Solonn responded, not really bothered.

“Anyhow, you were brought into Lilycove by these humans from someplace else, then, correct?” the swellow asked.

“Well…” Solonn hesitated for a moment, but then supposed that there was no real harm in mentioning Morgan, though he opted against using her name. “Not by those humans, but yes, I was brought to Lilycove by a human.” He mindfully chose the word “brought” rather than “taken”; Jal’tai clearly had a less than favorable attitude toward humans, especially those who kept pokémon. Solonn figured it was probably prudent to choose his words carefully; he didn’t want the swellow to speak ill of Morgan. “I lived with her for several months. She really was a decent person. I won’t lie about it—I do miss her…” He sighed. “She must be horribly worried about me…”

“Do you think you’ll ever return to her?” Jal’tai asked quietly.

“I don’t know,” Solonn answered truthfully. “I mean, I’d like to, sure. I just don’t know if Lilycove will ever be safe for me again… those people are still out there, and I don’t know if they’ll ever be caught.”

“Let us hope they will be, at any rate,” Jal’tai said soberly. Solonn nodded in agreement.

Their food arrived then, the hitmonchan deftly balancing a wide tray upon his large hands. The waiter set a ceramic platter partly covered in fish fillets in front of Jal’tai and an odd, wooden pedestal in front of Solonn. On top of the pedestal sat a large, raw steak. The hitmonchan then provided each of them with a saucer of water.

“I’ll be back shortly,” he said merrily. “When I return, you just let me know if you need anything else, okay?” With that, he left the room.

Solonn eyed the pedestal, puzzled. “What is this thing?”

“Hmm?” was Jal’tai’s muffled response; he already had a large chunk of fish in his beak. He swallowed it. “Oh yes, that. It’s just something to make it a little easier for those without limbs to enjoy their meal, particularly someone like yourself—I can see where you’d experience some difficulty plucking meat off a plate as I’m doing.”

Solonn’s eyes shifted the tiny distance upward from the pedestal to the steak itself. “So… this is meat, then?”

“Mmm-hmm,” the swellow confirmed through another bite of fish. “I imagine you’re unused to it being cut and processed in such a manner, but I assure you, it is meat.”

Solonn made a small, wordless noise of acknowledgment. So… this thing before him had once been a part of a living creature. Trepidation fluttered in the vicinity of his heart as he continued to stare at the steak.

Once again, his internal advocate for predation chose to speak up. It’s what’s right for you, you know.

Solonn continued to eye the steak uneasily. Part of him couldn’t help but try and picture what the former owner of this flesh had looked like before being slaughtered.

Come on—it’s not like you killed whatever they were, was the internal argument.

That angle fell just short of mollifying him. He cast a quick glance at Jal’tai and found that the swellow was temporarily neglecting his fish fillets to gaze back at him concernedly.

“Are you quite all right?” he asked. “You haven’t touched your Specialty there.”

“Er…” Solonn began, pausing as he swallowed nervously. “…I was just trying to figure out what’s so ‘special’ about it…” he half-muttered, inwardly cursing himself a bit for not coming up with a better response. Still, he preferred it to telling the truth. It shamed him somewhat to admit it to himself, but the fact was he was disinclined to confess—and perhaps have to justify—his reservations about eating meat.

“Well, taste it and you’ll find out!” Jal’tai said with the swellow equivalent of a beaming grin.

Solonn shut his eyes briefly, battling an urge to grimace. Until he started eating, the swellow would probably continue to press the issue. He wasn’t eager to go through with it, but he was all too aware of the swellow’s eyes upon him.

At least it hasn’t got eyes, the other faction of his mind told him. At least it can’t look back at you.

Solonn sighed heavily. There might as well have been two in his company who wouldn’t relent until he dug in. The fact that one of those persistent voices was actually a part of him didn’t help matters.

Silently, he rose from the floor and looked down at the steak. With a flash of light in his eyes, it froze instantly. Closing his eyes involuntarily, he lowered his face toward it and took it into his mouth.

It didn’t taste like he’d expected. He’d thought it would have the sharpest, most foul flavor imaginable. Instead it was actually rather bland. Solonn vaguely wondered if his brain had done him a favor and temporarily weakened his sense of taste.

As he began to chew, he tried very hard not to think about exactly what he was grinding between his teeth. It’s just ice, he tried to convince himself, that’s all… He wanted to rush it down his throat as quickly as he could, but his gullet seemed possessed of contrary urges. It took a few attempts to force the meat down.

Solonn opened his eyes again, only realizing then that he’d had them closed the whole time. Jal’tai was smiling at him, looking satisfied.

“Was it to your liking?” the swellow asked.

Solonn gave a quick nod, wondering if anything in his expression was contradicting the gesture. His eyes traveled downward to the saucer of water. Some good, fresh ice sounded like a good idea right about then.

He was glad that water had been provided for him to freeze; he’d spend a bit less effort doing that than he would’ve spent generating ice out of thin air. He stared intently at it, and within mere moments it changed into a stalk of ice rising from the middle of the saucer. He nipped it off as close to the dish as he could, then sat back down as he crunched it up.

The hitmonchan returned and immediately set about removing the cleared plates and pedestal as well as Solonn’s saucer, leaving Jal’tai’s largely ignored saucer where it sat. “Is there anything else I can get for you gentlemen?” he asked.

“Nothing more for me,” Jal’tai said, shaking his head gently. “What about you, Mr. Zgil-Al? Care for another Specialty?”

There were very few things in the world that Solonn would have cared for less at that moment. “No thanks,” he said—or tried to say. His words were almost completely engulfed in a massive yawn.

“‘No’, did you say?” the hitmonchan asked.

“Hm? Yeah, that’s right,” Solonn confirmed.

“Very well then, sirs. I hope you’ve enjoyed your day here!” the hitmonchan said cheerfully, then left.

Jal’tai took a moment to stretch his wings, then jumped down from the chair. “So, Mr. Zgil-Al. Would you like for me to give you a nice tour of the city?”

“Ugh… that’d be nice, but…” He unleashed another yawn. “I don’t know… I’m just really tired all of a sudden. I feel like I need to get to sleep.”

Concern filled Jal’tai’s gaze. “Hmm. Well, in that case, I think we’d better seek out a place where you can rest. I think your recent tribulations must have finally taken their toll on you.”

Solonn nodded listlessly, suspecting the swellow was right. It seemed that his body had taken all it could; now it was demanding a break for a while.

“Come, Mr. Zgil-Al. The Convergence Inn isn’t terribly far from here at all. I should be able to get a room for you there without any trouble.” The swellow left the private room and beckoned Solonn to follow.

* * *​

Solonn barely registered the trip from Whitley’s to the Convergence Inn, hardly even aware of any conscious effort on his part to stay floating as he drifted lethargically behind the swellow. He didn’t absorb Jal’tai’s words when the swellow told him they’d arrived at their destination until several seconds after the fact.

Vaguely, Solonn noted that he was following Jal’tai into the hotel. He almost didn’t notice when Jal’tai strayed from his immediate vicinity and crossed the lobby to go speak with a swampert receptionist.

Jal’tai returned shortly, then gestured with his wing toward an elevator to Solonn’s right. “This way,” he said. “Your room is on the top floor.”

Making a wordless noise of acknowledgment, Solonn let Jal’tai guide him toward a spacious elevator. Jal’tai pressed a button set in the wall beside the elevator’s steel doors, which opened a few moments later. Solonn drifted into the elevator quite slowly and somewhat unsteadily; Jal’tai just managed to dash in after him before the doors closed and the elevator began to rise.

Once it came to a stop, the two of them emerged onto the uppermost floor. Jal’tai moved ahead of Solonn and proceeded a short distance through the corridor. “Here it is!” he soon called back to the glalie.

Solonn glided over to join him, so hampered by drowsiness at this point that he nearly drifted right into the wall before coming to a stop at the swellow’s side.

“This shall be your room for the night,” Jal’tai said, “right in there.” He gestured toward the very same wall that Solonn had almost bumped into. There was no door, no apparent way into the “room” that Jal’tai was indicating. The wall was nearly featureless save for the words “Grand Suite” in blue human- and unown-script and a pair of strange devices fitted into the wall next to them. One of these fixtures was some kind of keypad, while the other resembled nothing so much as a round, blank, gray eye.

Even in his lethargy, Solonn managed to give the swellow quite the skeptical look.

Jal’tai smiled. “Observe.” Fluttering up into the air before the keypad, he punched a code into it using a single claw, then hurriedly flapped aside from it.

“Ready,” said a computerized voice from out of nowhere, and a large, glowing, green square lit up dramatically on the floor in front of the lens and keypad. “Please enter the transport field.”

“Go to that square and sit down,” Jal’tai said.

Solonn did as he was told. “Initializing scan,” said the computerized voice. The lens on the wall awakened, glowing with a brilliant, golden light. It projected a beam of the same color, which touched Solonn, broadened to his width, and swept up and down over him. “Scan complete,” the voice said, and the beam vanished.

The tile flashed. A peculiar, tingling sensation prickled over the glalie’s skin, followed by a strange sensation like going into a capture ball. But instead of entering a bodiless nothingness, he materialized inside a large, richly furnished suite with paintings on its walls that put the ones hanging up at Whitley’s to shame. Marble figures of various dragon-type pokémon stood here and there, no two of them alike.

Not that Solonn could truly appreciate his surroundings. To his weary eyes, everything around him was beginning to bleed together into a blur of color and light.

“Hey in there!” Jal’tai shouted, his voice coming in through the wall. “Do you like it?”

Solonn turned toward the wall and made a noise that was as affirmative-sounding as his exhaustion would allow.

“Good, good!” Jal’tai responded merrily. “Now, listen, I doubt you’ll need anything overnight; your suite comes very well equipped, I assure you. But, if you do… Well, have a look at the little table by that green armchair in the den.” He gave the glalie ample time to find it; Solonn, in his present state, needed every second of it.

“I see it,” Solonn finally said, his words slurred. At least, he thought he saw it.

“Good,” Jal’tai said, speaking more loudly now. “Now, you’ll notice the little black box with a large, round speaker on top—you can use that to call me if you need anything. It’s voice-activated. You need only speak into it—say ‘Page’, then my name, followed by ‘Room 44-B’, which is where I’m going to be staying. Call, and I’ll come up here as quickly as I can manage. Got it?”

“Got it,” Solonn confirmed, although he was only minimally aware of what he was saying.

“All right, then. Rest well, Mr. Zgil-Al!” Jal’tai said brightly. His words were followed by a continuing silence, signifying that he’d left.

With yet another huge yawn, Solonn lowered himself to the floor. He rolled onto his back and gratefully let his eyelids close, sighing as he did so. His fading mind drifted back to things he’d learned earlier that day, lingering on the unown. Solonn remembered, in a detached sort of way, that they’d piqued his interest, but he’d fallen too far toward sleep to remember why. Already half-dreaming, his brain conjured images of the fantastic, surreal beings that it guessed the unown to be, whimsically bizarre creatures that danced in circles around his consciousness as it dwindled away.

 

[diamondpearl876]

They were mostly pokémon, some of whom were using human-made devices—which was nice, he supposed, but he wished the electabuzz they passed would shut off that leaf blower sometime soon. He could still hear the damned thing from several blocks away.

Cute image. Solonn sounds like an old man. Shut up, Solonn.

It didn’t taste like he’d expected. He’d thought it would have the sharpest, most foul flavor imaginable. Instead it was actually rather bland. Solonn vaguely wondered if his brain had done him a favor and temporarily weakened his sense of taste.

Lol, that's a cute ending sentence to the paragraph that really shows off how clueless he is. There's lots of wonderful things you can do with pokemon characters, and I think you took advantage of it here.

Also, I forgot to quote the Unown history lesson, but that was a creative use of a pokemon species as well. Solonn almost spilling his secret was a good touch, too. I'm still on the fence about how I feel about this swellow fellow, so I'm supporting Solonn's carefulness at the moment.

With yet another huge yawn, Solonn lowered himself to the floor. He rolled onto his back and gratefully let his eyelids close, sighing as he did so. His fading mind drifted back to things he’d learned earlier that day, lingering on the unown. Solonn remembered, in a detached sort of way, that they’d piqued his interest, but he’d fallen too far toward sleep to remember why. Already half-dreaming, his brain conjured images of the fantastic, surreal beings that it guessed the unown to be, whimsically bizarre creatures that danced in circles around his consciousness as it dwindled away.

Perfect way to end the chapter. I'm not sure if I buy the “everything took its toll on him at once” idea. I'm not sure why. ...Why am I so skeptical of the swellow?! Is Solonn trapped forever or what?!

Anyway. Short chapter, which I'm grateful for because usually I spend a lot of time on your chapters and I'm quite behind on a lot of fics. The chapter seemed like a filler for what's to come, but it still introduced some important aspects to this new setting (which I find weird to read about, but I trust you have something up your sleeve).

 

[Sike Saner]

@diamondpearl876 Swellow fellow swellow fellow swellow fellow. That's going to be stuck in my head for at least an hour; I just know it.

That and the image of old fart!Solonn. I guarantee you: if a giant fricking hell face comes out and demands you get off his lawn, you're gonna get off the damn lawn, provided you don't just keel over from sheer wtf on the spot. Also, he's going to need a new doorframe.

Glalie just don't have any business being indoors in a lot of places, with the possible exception of Ash's glalie.

HELL YEAH SHORT CHAPTERS. God, you should've seen the previous version of this thing. 30-page chapters that had no business being 30 pages became the norm there for a while. Re-reading through them felt like a hell of a chore, and I'm pretty sure that was a huge part of why. So yeah, at some point I thankfully decided that was b.s., and so now we have something made up of 42 relatively reasonably-sized chapters rather than the twentysomething giantass bran meal chapters it would've had. X3

 

[BinkVallen]

I just blew through all of this and my brain is too frazzled to do a proper review but I love this story so much. It's well written and the plot is fun and I'm left with so many questions. What's with Solonn's mystery dad? Was it the unown who kidnapped him or some villainous group? Why does Daron want with him? And what does he mean "we found one," how many more universal translator pokemon are out there? Does Daron and his ilk have something to do with Convergence?

Anyway, I don't trust anyone. I don't trust Daron, I don't trust Jal'tai, I don't trust fake!Morgan which means I'll probably never trust Morgan at all again, I don't trust Grosh, I don't even trust Sei. (Wandering around the city? Totally up to something.) I love how you're making me scrutinize everyone's motives, great job.

I can't think of anything for you to improve on right now, but I'll be sure to review the next chapter in more depth.

 

[Sike Saner]

@BinkVallen Suspicions all around! Which, if any, will be right on the mark? Time will tell, for I have dinner to go make.

Oh yeah, and something about how I shouldn't spoil chapters ahead of time, I guess. Whatever. Thanks for reading--glad you're having fun so far. Now if you'll excuse me, it is soup time.

 

[diamondpearl876]

From the awards...

SOLONN FROM COMMUNICATION BY SIKE SANER

Depth - 6/10

There's not a lot of depth to Solonn. There are very few things I learned about him while reading, and yet the story is from his point of view. The story is about him trying to get back to his secluded mountain home, but it's never said why he wants to go back home. He is annoyed easily, is submissive toward others, is sheltered due to his upbringing and is therefore a curious pokemon, and he is determined to get what he wants. That's a very short list for the amount of chapters that have been released thus far. What is revealed about his character, however, is written well enough.

Originality - 7/10

Solonn comes from a little family consisting of his mother and... well, that's it. His father left the picture as soon as he was born and never came back, which, if you know the pokemon franchise well, is pretty cliche and is generally left unexplained for some reason or another. His sheltered self and lack of encounters with others makes him unique, and so does the fact that his sheltered self leads to him being submissive toward others. I get the impression that he thinks other species as well as humans are somewhat above him due to having more life experiences than him, and so he feels the need to go along with what they want. He doesn't, however, forget his own needs and desires, which is admirable.

Entertainment Value - 9/10

Solonn is a snorunt that eventually evolves into a glalie. Have you ever read about a snorunt or a glalie before? Probably not. The little details that Sike Saner puts into the evolution line is very impressive. From the time Solonn crashes into the snow face first to the time where his new glalie form literally takes up the size of an entire bedroom... Well, it's all adorable. Solonn is also a bit snarky at times, which makes for an amusing read.

Contribution to Plot - 10/10

Solonn is the main character of the story. Without him, the story wouldn't and couldn't exist. He is there, in every scene, offering his views of the world as well as his emotions about whatever's happening at the time. His personality and background, though not as in-depth as it could be, is actually very appropriate and important to the story at hand.

Overall: Solonn doesn't have any discernible flaws. The flaw is that he's not written as well as he could be. Despite this, I find myself wanting to know what happens to him, and I guess that's all that matters when it comes right down to it.

COMMUNICATION
by Sike Saner

Plot - 9/10

The plot is highly original, as it's not something you could really find anywhere. The fic tells the story of Solonn, a snorunt who eventually evolves into a glalie. Solonn grows up to learn that the world doesn't revolve around glalie. There are other species of pokemon and even humans. He learns, too, that he has a special talent, which isn't overpowered, nor does it change his personality. Solonn is able to mimic the voices and languages of others. Shortly after discovering his talent, he is captured by a coordinator who asks him to participate in contests. Solonn agrees, but only if he's able to go home once he's done. Meanwhile, people plan on exploiting his talent in any way they can.

Setting - 4/10

There's a lot of potential lost in the setting. Solonn lives on a secluded mountain, somewhere near Hoenn. The unknown location is initially used to keep Solonn as a sheltered character, and while this drives the plot well, more could have been expanded on. How did the glalie come to be the only ones on that mountain? Is there a reason that the only adult character shown in the story is Solonn's mother, when there are clearly other children running around? There's a lot of questions left unanswered. Eventually the setting moves to Lilycove, Hoenn, which mostly seems to be set in place out of convenience for the coordinator Solonn works with. Other than the contests, Lilycove isn't explored at all.

Characterization - 7/10

I'm torn on this one, because some characters are done well, while others are not. The main problem is that the main characters are flat, while very minor characters are given plenty of life and personality. How did that happen? Solonn is sheltered and therefore curious. He's also determined and submissive to the demands of others. That's about all I really know about him, and the story's told from his point of view. Solonn's mother is a typical worried mother, Morgan is a typical nice girl with no known flaws... Yet the zubat that allows Solonn to discover his talent is very flightly and has a distinct voice, the sableye that exploits Solonn has some strange/quirky habits, and Zigil's sister is friends with one of the most influential glalie in the mountain. Morgan's other pokemon also play a part in the plot and might have personality if they weren't kind of thrown aside after they were introduced and their individual pasts were explained. For the latter characters, the dialogue is great and believable, and I'd like to see more of them.

Style - 7/10

The description is nice. With contests taking place in a pokemon world, it kind of goes without saying that the attacks used have to look magical. Sike Saner is able to give the audience the view they came to see. Sike Saner is also good at delving into emotions and exploring them when she needs to most. Occasionally, Sike Saner is repetitive when explaining how a character is feeling, or she uses wordy sentences to describe settings, but other than that, I have no complaints.

Technical - 9/10

Sike Saner had one of the funniest typos I've ever read in a fic, but I digress. Spelling and grammar aren't generally an issue here, which is nice and makes for easy reading. I do admit she tends to use too many adverbs, which adds to her being repetitive with description and emotions, but it's nothing a little bit of editing can't fix.

Overall: The plot is refreshing to see. It would be even better if Sike Saner slowed down the pace and delved into some of the issues I stated. The setting and the characters definitely have potential, but again, the story's pacing leaves a lot to be desired. What we do see of the story was a pleasant to read.

 

[Sike Saner]

@diamondpearl876 Omg that is the coolest review I have read in a while. And it's for me! ;v; Seriously, I am over the moon right now. Thanks for going into such detail--it's actually made me more interested in my own story. Considering how long I'd been wrestling with it, that's saying something. Something good.

 

[diamondpearl876]

@diamondpearl876 Omg that is the coolest review I have read in a while. And it's for me! ;v; Seriously, I am over the moon right now. Thanks for going into such detail--it's actually made me more interested in my own story. Considering how long I'd been wrestling with it, that's saying something. Something good.

No problem, my dear. Sorry I couldn't get this to you until after the awards were over. Now get back to writing and being interested in cute lil glalies!

 

[Beth Pavell]

I've decided to fold Awards feedback together with a regular review, of sorts. For some reason I thought I'd missed more than two chapters

Technical Accuracy/Style
This is one of those stories where the first category is mostly me flailing for something to say. In general terms for the story, what I noticed on my second read-through was how trimmed down the story is. On the one hand it makes for an efficient plot and some quite snappy pacing. On the other it also means that many aspects border on the superficial. Morgan, for example, is rather generic in the big scheme of things and this lessens the emotional impact of her separation with Solonn. Likewise the big emotional moments feel fleeting, the stuff of a single scene without a lot anchoring them to the plot before and after.

The worldbuilding I'm on the fence about. Certainly in the Contest portions we needed more of it - you tried to get away with just telling us that Solonn was nervous and overwhelmed. As it stands, you gave us plenty of Solonn's performance but almost nothing of the Contest hall. It's from Solonn's point of view, so it would be entirely appropriate to give those kinds of details

Story
It's certainly unconventional. It's not a journeyfic, it's not a straight up dark kidnap story, it's not ... well, any archetype, really. With the latest twist of Convergence I really have no idea where this is going. Whether it'll work remains to be seen (I'm sort of wondering how an entire city relatively close to Lilycove can go unnoticed by humanity). As I said above, it's very readable and very efficient in the word count of each chapter. Dealing with the idea of human-Pokémon communication without immediately blaming it on legendaries ("God did it" is rapidly becoming a peeve of mine in Pokémon fanfic)is my favourite aspect of the story. The use of Unown is clever. I wish I'd thought of it

Characters
A mixed bag. I like that you took the time to really set up Solonn and his background. Most of the one-time cast are great, strong characters in relation to their screentime - the lost zubat for example - but as I hinted above I think you don't give some of your supporting characters enough attention. Solonn's the star of the story, fine, but when it comes to characters that have a lasting impact on the plot (Morgan being the chief of these), you need just a little more. I mean, I just don't fully believe Solonn's lasting desire to say bye to Morgan, at least. She was kind and understanding, ok, but I don't know, I think I needed a little more reason for why Solonn liked her. Something that appears superficial - because superficial reasons are often the real reasons we like anyone

Final Thoughts
I had Communication pegged as a contender for a prize from the start. I think there's an awful lot done right. I do think you need to meander a little bit and linger over the emotional moments.

Oh, and the ursaring was great. I don't know why, but the country music sold it

 

[Sike Saner]

@Beth Pavell About Ms. Olcarion! She was, I shit you not, the result of wanting to reference "oh my god BEAR is driving, how can that be?". I think my joke characters are some of my favorites, honestly. I think part of me has stubbornly remained in comedy writer mode all this time.

I love these awards reviews. ;v; Hopefully I'll be able to net some nominations next time around, too--even if I don't win, I have these to look forward to. Thanks muchly. :>

 

[Sike Saner]

Chapter 11 – Bereaved​

The space surrounding Solonn was utterly silent and dark, but far from still, anything but empty. A stream of pure power rushed through this lightless, ethereal plane like a river. It brought the most wonderful feeling: an almost inebriatingly sweet familiarity that comforted and revitalized him as it flowed freely all around him.

This was the raw, elemental power of ice, and he reveled in its direct presence and contact. He couldn’t see it, but he recognized it in the surest, most ingrained way. He floated contently within it, free from distracting thoughts as the very essence of his mother element rushed over him.

Subtly, imperceptibly at first, the elemental stream began to pick up speed. The glalie in the midst of it noticed with a delay, regarding it with nothing more than mild curiosity, still wrapped up in his unity with the power of ice. But concern eventually set in, and it grew stronger as the current flowed faster and faster—soon, the stream was rushing by so swiftly that he could barely perceive it.

That concern turned to fear, and then panic, when Solonn couldn’t feel it at all anymore. It was no longer flowing alongside him—it was rushing away.

It was leaving him behind.

No! No, come back! he tried to call out as it hurried to some distant, invisible point far beyond him. But in this place, he had no voice. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. He was helplessly suspended in empty space, the life-sustaining flow of elemental power nowhere to be found.

Panicked, he cried out silently, again and again. How this could be happening? How could his mother element abandon him like this, knowing it would mean his death?

His mind began to splinter in earnest as he made his final, desperate appeals for salvation, pleading voicelessly to the multitude of gods, begging for his life. But moments passed with no response. The severance from his element would not be undone.

He almost didn’t feel it when something finally disturbed the emptiness around him. Just as soon as he’d noticed it, before he could even begin to identify it, a strange, pacifying wave emanated from whatever it was and engulfed his mind completely.

All will be fine, it seemed to say. Do not be concerned.

The suggestion came as gently as could be, but also as irresistibly as possible. Perhaps it was death; perhaps it was salvation; perhaps it was something entirely beyond reckoning. Whatever it was, Solonn obeyed its consoling command without resistance. The glalie slipped away from all further thought and sensation without a care.

* * *​

Vague notions of waking up crept into Solonn’s mind, just out of grasp of his full consciousness. Unhurriedly, he began reconnecting to his senses. With his eyes still closed and his consciousness liable to slip right back into sleep at any moment, he decided and attempted to rise up.

He failed.

Still only barely awake, emerging very slowly from the deepest sleep he’d ever known, Solonn felt something only marginally resembling concern. He could’ve sworn he’d just commanded himself to get up off the floor. He tried once more to ascend…

…And failed again.

As his mind unmuddled even further, a burgeoning panic set in, one that spiked when the notion finally hit him: I can’t get up!

His eyes flew open. A plant hung in a basket directly above him, a number of leafy tendrils spilling over the basket’s rim to dangle toward the floor. Something was distinctly… off about it, and as his gaze shifted away from it, he realized what the problem was: his vision had gone strangely dull, lacking in definition and color. He started blinking rapidly, trying to clear out whatever was making it so hazy.

At the same time, he went back to trying to ascend. His body still wouldn’t respond; it was as if it no longer understood his instructions. The sound of pounding blood filled his ears as his heart began racing. Why can’t I get up? He tried to calm himself enough to make sense of things and was only partially successful. Maybe his body would have an easier time carrying out a simpler task, he considered, and so he gave up on trying to rise for the time being. He’d be glad just to get off his back and sit upright again.

To this, his body actually responded. But as it did so, he was stricken by a very unusual sensation: as his face pitched forward, he felt something cinching together in the vicinity of his abdomen—almost a bending sensation, as if at a waist, which was something he didn’t have.

And yet, he did.

He cried out in disbelief at the sight that met his eyes, a picture that very bluntly told him how his body had bent in a fashion that should’ve been impossible. A pair of long legs ending in five-toed feet stretched out before him. And unless his mind was playing a very cruel trick on him—it had to be, he told himself silently in a repeating loop—those limbs were his.

No… no, this can’t be real… I’m still dreaming; I’ve got to be… Solonn was almost able to believe that conclusion—almost. Swallowing against a hard knot of dread that had built up in his throat, he stared intently at one of the feet and, hoping and expecting that the effort would fail, he willed it to move.

It moved right on command.

He screamed, flailing as he half-jumped, half-scuttled backward in horrified surprise. The back of his head connected sharply with a corner of the small table behind him. He shouted wordlessly at the pain as it exploded across the inner surface of his skull. There was no doubt about it: the pain was real. Though Solonn dearly wished otherwise, it seemed reality was determined to literally beat the truth into his head. This wasn’t a dream. This was really happening. Somehow, impossibly, he had become human.

He swooned and slumped backwards against the side of the nearby armchair, panting. His heart hammered in animalistic terror, making his chest ache. He almost felt like he could pass out at any moment and would have been all too grateful to do so, but his brain stayed disobligingly conscious and forced him to endure this bizarre new reality. As if possessed of their own will, his eyes just kept staring at the tall, lanky body that was now his own.

This body was more than strange—it was wrong. He should not have this; he should not be this. He should be a glalie, a creature of the element of ice… but that element was no longer there for him. He tried to reach it again, part of him desperately hoping he could somehow return to his true form or at least feel more at home in this one if he succeeded. But no matter how he tried, he could no longer feel his mother element’s embrace in the least.

He moaned involuntarily, not at the throbbing, shooting pain that still lingered in his head but rather at the severance from his beloved element. His anguish swelled in his chest and then welled up behind his eyes until they could hold it in no longer. For the first time in his life, he was crying.

Several minutes after the fact, he finally noticed there was something damp at the back of his head. Shaking, he glanced down at his hands for a moment as they lay limply at his sides. Then, only half-aware of what he was doing, he lifted one of them to the damp spot, recoiling at the warm stickiness he found there amidst the hair. He then brought that hand before his face, and he felt his throat go dry at what he saw. Though his vision had gone even blurrier, he could still make out the blood smeared across the tips of his fingers—red blood that didn’t turn to mist in the air. Human blood for a human body.

Which he should not have.

Solonn closed his eyes and tried to retreat into the corners of his mind, thoroughly overwhelmed. He couldn’t even remotely fathom how this could have happened to him, nor could he even begin to think of what to do under these circumstances.

Sighing, he opened his eyes once more, resigned to the likelihood that he’d be staying awake for a while whether he liked it or not. He turned his head and let it drop listlessly to his left shoulder, faintly regarding a number of long, black strands of hair that fell across his face. Past them, through the corner of his eye, he could make out the table he’d backed into.

A course of action occurred to him as he remembered what sat on that table.

He didn’t know what to do about this situation, but perhaps Jal’tai would. Solonn could think of no one else to turn to. He reached up and pulled the paging device down from the table, turning it over in his hands for a moment as he tried to remember how to operate it. Voice-activated, he soon recalled. You tell it what to do. After another few seconds, he thought he’d remembered exactly what he was supposed to say.

He looked at the large speaker that dominated one side of the strange paging device; seeing no other prominent features on it, he figured this was where he should direct his command. He took a deep breath; then, “Page,” he said, and he felt his throat constrict as soon as the word had escaped it. Presently-stuffy nose notwithstanding, his new voice sounded exactly like his old one. He still sounded like himself—why couldn’t he still be himself in every other way?

There was a small beep, and a tiny, green light turned on next to the speaker. “Please state the recipient’s name and room number,” the device said in the same computerized voice that the transporter outside the suite had used.

“Jal’tai,” Solonn answered hoarsely, “room 44-B.” He dearly hoped he’d remembered that number correctly.

“One moment please…” the device said.

Solonn held his breath as he waited for a response. Thankfully, it seemed he’d gotten the number right; after several seconds: “Yes? Is there something you need?” Jal’tai asked through the speaker.

“Oh yes,” Solonn responded shakily, urgently, “yes, there is.”

“Oh dear…” Jal’tai clearly had no trouble picking up on Solonn’s distress. There was a brief pause; then, “What’s the matter?”

Solonn strongly doubted Jal’tai would believe him. “Can’t explain,” he replied hurriedly. “I just need you here right now. Please hurry.”

Another pause. “Yes… yes, of course. I’ll be right up,” Jal’tai said finally.

“Connection terminated,” the device said. The beep sounded again, and the green light turned off.

Solonn set the paging device down beside him and released a long, weary sigh. All he could do now was wait for Jal’tai to show up—even if he only had seconds to wait, he wasn’t sure how well he could endure it. He was fully aware of how he trembled, his hands shaking like leaves. Tiny yet powerful twitches tugged and pricked at the skin around his eyes and mouth. Vaguely, he wondered if he might lose this body just as soon as he’d gained it; it was threatening to shake itself to pieces.

As the seconds crept by, he stared blankly at one of dragon statues that sat a couple of yards away. It lay on its marble pedestal with its tapered wings outstretched and its taloned forearms crossed in front of it and gazed sightlessly back at Solonn with a look of absolute serenity that he quickly came to envy.

A voice sounded then, startling Solonn and pulling his attention away from the statue. “Solonn? Are you all right in there?” It was Jal’tai. “May I come in now?” the swellow asked him through the wall.

“Please do,” Solonn called back shakily.

“Of course, of course… just give me a moment here…” Jal’tai responded.

A tone sounded shortly thereafter. “Prepare to receive a visitor,” the computerized voice said, calm as ever. Solonn turned toward the wall separating the suite from the hall outside. A second later, a shimmering, pale green field of light appeared above a tile that matched the one outside, then solidified into Jal’tai, who stood there in front of the wall with a concerned look leveled at Solonn. If he was at all shocked or surprised to behold a human where there should’ve been a glalie, he didn’t show it.

Without a word, Jal’tai walked over to where Solonn was half-sitting and half-lying. He stopped in front of the former glalie, ruffled his wings, and folded them tightly against his back.

“It’s all right, Solonn,” Jal’tai said calmly. “I can personally assure you that you’ve nothing to fear from your new form. After all—” He paused briefly to take a breath. “—it was I who designed that very body for you.”

That took a very long moment to fully register. For a moment, Solonn forgot to breathe. He gave the swellow a stupefied stare.

Jal’tai nodded. “It’s true, Solonn.”

The human’s stare went flat. At first, he gave no further response, frozen in the moment. Then he inhaled very slowly, very deeply.

“Why?” he asked, his voice strained. “Why… and how… in the fires of a thousand hells… did you turn me into a human?”

Jal’tai closed his eyes and lowered his head. “Yes,” he said soberly, “you are owed an explanation for all this. It’s imperative that you fully understand the situation. I will address your question of ‘how’ first, since that comes with the shorter answer. To begin to answer that question, however, I must start by being more honest with you with regards to the matter of who—and what—I truly am.”

The swellow suddenly took to the air, hovering in place to Solonn’s right and slightly above him. “Don’t be frightened by what I’m about to show you,” Jal’tai said, his words accompanied by the sound of his steadily beating wings, “for it is my true form. I am and shall still be the same person in spirit that I’ve shown myself to be up to this point.”

Solonn could only stare mutely at him, watching as the air around Jal’tai began to ripple and shimmer, blurring the swellow’s form. Soon, Jal’tai completely lost definition, becoming nothing more than a wavering mass of faint light. Then the light intensified and began to take shape once more. When it faded away a second later, the swellow was gone. In his place was something very different, something blue and pale gray that, while still feathered, was no longer a bird.

Jal’tai was now a dragon.

 

[diamondpearl876]

The space surrounding Solonn was utterly silent and dark, but far from still, anything but empty.

I feel like a little better sentence structure could have made this opening part more powerful. I'm not sure what's wrong with it though, or how to fix it.

The suggestion came as gently as could be, but also as irresistibly as possible. Perhaps it was death; perhaps it was salvation; perhaps it was something entirely beyond reckoning. Whatever it was, Solonn obeyed its consoling command without resistance. The glalie slipped away from all further thought and sensation without a care.

There's a lot of emotion packed into this one, small scene. Not saying it's bad, and in fact, I love it. I feel for Solonn here and really want to know what happens to him. (Though I already skimmed the chapter and have been internally yelling at you in my head ever since.)

Though he wanted to do nothing of the sort, something compelled him to look upon himself again. Unwilling eyes swept over the tall, lanky body that was now his own. This was the first time that he’d ever seen a human body unclothed, and the sight left him mortified both for his own sake and that of an entire species. Good gods, they keep that out?

I DID NOT JUST READ THIS
I DID NOT
Damnit, I love you.

This body was more than strange—it was wrong. He should not have this; he should not be this. He should be a glalie, a creature of the element of ice… but that element was no longer there for him. He tried to reach it again, part of him desperately hoping he could somehow return to his true form or at least feel more at home in this one if he succeeded. But no matter how he tried, he could no longer feel his mother element’s embrace in the least.

I'm really surprised that Solonn didn't first notice the warmth of a human body, compared the coldness of a glalie's. Coldness was something you focused on when Solonn first left his home, but ever since it's sort of been shoved aside.

He looked at the large speaker that dominated one side of the strange paging device; seeing no other prominent features on it, he figured this was where he should direct his command. He took a deep breath; then, “Page,” he said, and he felt his throat constrict as soon as the word had escaped it. Presently-stuffy nose notwithstanding, his new voice sounded exactly like his old one. He still sounded like himself—why couldn’t he still be himself in every other way?

YOU BREAK MY HEART, SOLONN.
But really, the gift of language he has actually shows some use here. A clever use that isn't exploitation.

As the seconds crept by, he stared blankly at one of dragon statues that sat a couple of yards away. It lay on its marble pedestal with its tapered wings outstretched and its taloned forearms crossed in front of it and gazed sightlessly back at Solonn with a look of absolute serenity that he quickly came to envy.

LOL FORESHADOWING
MAKE IT STOP

Jal’tai was now a dragon.

fuck
I KNEW THIS SWELLOW FELLOW WAS NOT TO BE TRUSTED
I JUST KNEW IT
pokemon/human dystopia was TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE
I actually feel like you could have gotten away with a longer chapter here, but I digress. The cliffhanger works just as well.
I guess my biggest question right now is (besides what swellow fellow's plans are)... well, wasn't Solonn in a pokeball? Was that just a fake? Where is he really? Does it have anything to do with being turned human?