COMPLETE: Communication (TEEN)

[Sike Saner]

@diamondpearl876

and have been internally yelling at you in my head ever since

This is easily one of the best reactions I could have ever hoped for. >:3

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

And there's another. 8D

Wrt the warmth thing: idk I guess my thinking was that like... if you have a snorunt hand and you touch a (live) human, they're going to feel warm by contrast. If you have a human hand and you touch a human, it wouldn't feel as warm because there's so much less of a contrast.

If you have a mr. mime hand, you should probably get that checked.

Anyway yeah idk if that's sound reasoning, or if that's even the reasoning I used back in the day but. shrugs. Really though what he's noticing in that part is less that he's warm now and more that he can't access his elemental powers anymore, and seeing as his people technically worship the "mother element" alongside their little pantheon of gods with forgotten names to say nothing of the fact that the mother element is also kind of a weird, hamfisted drug metaphor in his case... yeah.

Wrt the poké ball (?): ...actually nah, I think I'll clarify that next time. Might be kind of sort of vaguely spoilery if you squint and hold your mouth right. Even though it's really probably pretty obvious exactly what the frickety frack Jal'tai actually is at this point.

ANYWAY. Thanks for replying once more, and thanks once more for replying! :3

 

[diamondpearl876]

@diamondpearl876



This is easily one of the best reactions I could have ever hoped for. >:3

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

And there's another. 8D

Wrt the warmth thing: idk I guess my thinking was that like... if you have a snorunt hand and you touch a (live) human, they're going to feel warm by contrast. If you have a human hand and you touch a human, it wouldn't feel as warm because there's so much less of a contrast.

If you have a mr. mime hand, you should probably get that checked.

Anyway yeah idk if that's sound reasoning, or if that's even the reasoning I used back in the day but. shrugs. Really though what he's noticing in that part is less that he's warm now and more that he can't access his elemental powers anymore, and seeing as his people technically worship the "mother element" alongside their little pantheon of gods with forgotten names to say nothing of the fact that the mother element is also kind of a weird, hamfisted drug metaphor in his case... yeah.

Wrt the poké ball (?): ...actually nah, I think I'll clarify that next time. Might be kind of sort of vaguely spoilery if you squint and hold your mouth right. Even though it's really probably pretty obvious exactly what the frickety frack Jal'tai actually is at this point.

ANYWAY. Thanks for replying once more, and thanks once more for replying! :3

I will accept your line of reasoning. I suppose I just thought it would have been another way to accentuate Solonn's situation, since a blatant sign of losing his elemental powers probably involves warmth.

 

[Sike Saner]

Chapter 12 – Preclusion of Choice​

“There,” Jal’tai said. He sounded no different than he had prior to revealing his true form, and he tried to sound soothing, though he failed in that endeavor.

Solonn stared agape at him for seconds on end. He then cast a couple of flitting glances back and forth between the Jal’tai and the nearby statue.

Jal’tai followed one of those glances and then let out a chuckle. “No, no, dear boy,” he said. “That is a latias. I am a latios.”

“What does what you are have to do with… with this?” Solonn demanded with a pained hiss, sweeping his gaze quickly over himself before returning his wild, bewildered stare to the dragon.

“Well, my dear boy, it’s actually quite relevant to what’s been done to you, for it was by the transfigure technique—an ancient art which only survives in practice today among the lati—that you were given this form. A swellow couldn’t have used the transfigure technique; on the chance you might’ve known that, I deemed it necessary to reveal my true form so that you’d believe me when I told you how I transformed you.”

Solonn hadn’t known what swellow were and weren’t capable of, nor did he care to know these things. Jal’tai’s explanation held little meaning for Solonn and fell quite short of a satisfying answer.

Hoping that the other question would yield a better one, “Why, Jal’tai?” Solonn pressed in a brittle voice, the words more exhaled than spoken.

Lowering his head, Jal’tai drew back slightly from Solonn. “Forgive me, Mr. Zgil-Al,” he said soberly. “I sincerely regret not being more straightforward with you from the start. But there was only one way this could be done feasibly, and unfortunately, it required me to keep you largely in the dark up to this point.”

The latios clasped his talons and met Solonn’s gaze steadily despite the way the human’s brown, bloodshot eyes pierced into his own. “The first thing you need to know in order to understand the situation is this: I’m not merely a proud citizen of this great city. I’m also the mayor and director of the Convergence Project, its guide and guardian.”

“Well, good for you,” Solonn croaked acidly. “And what is it about that, exactly, that required you to turn me into this?”

“Patience, my boy,” Jal’tai said evenly, unfazed by Solonn’s venom-laced response, earning a very indignant look from the former glalie. “You must allow me to explain, and not just for your own sake, either.”

The latios paused for a breath, then released it on a sigh before proceeding. “I love my city, Solonn,” he said wistfully. “I love it more than anything else in this world. But the fact remains that I won’t be around to guide it forever. Therefore, someone will need to take my place someday.

“This is where you come in, Solonn. Now, it may not be obvious to the eye of the beholder, but I am getting on in years… Soon, I’ll be retiring from my position as mayor of Convergence, and the city will need someone to take my office when I depart. That someone is required to have a very particular and very rare skill in common with me—it’s rendered a necessity by the very nature of this place. My successor must be able, just as I am, to freely and fluently communicate with pokémon and humans alike. My successor must possess the Speech.”

Solonn’s eyes widened dramatically. Automatically, he began crawling backwards away from Jal’tai, compelled to put a healthy distance between himself and the latios as swiftly as he could. How did he find out? he wondered fearfully. His mind was nearly racing too fast to arrive at any explanation, but the only one he managed to reach was the only one that made any sense to him anyway.

Just as soon he’d thought of it, it was confirmed. “Yes, Solonn. I am a psychic,” Jal’tai said, nodding. “But, no, that’s not how I learned of your gift. Not initially, anyway,” he clarified.

Lowering his talons and turning them palms-outward, trying to appear as non-threatening as he could, Jal’tai began gliding slowly toward Solonn. His wings remained rigid and stationary all the while; a less mundane force powered his flight. Solonn kept backing away from the advancing latios but soon found himself backed into a corner, trapped by a wall to his left, a large, oak dresser to his right, and Jal’tai before him. The latios was now only a foot or so in front of Solonn.

Jal’tai settled himself onto the carpet, folding his forearms in front of his chest, and continued. “I saw you, you see,” the latios said. “The day before last, I saw what happened to you in Lilycove,” he elaborated, with a note of earnest sorrow. “I was out for a nice flight—as I mentioned before, I do make occasional excursions outside Convergence, just for a change of pace. I chose to go eastward instead of southward that day. My course found me flying over Lilycove, and there I caught sight of a most deplorable scene: there was a sign out in front of an old, miserable looking theater, promising a real, live… ‘talking’ pokémon inside…” The latios spat out the word “talking” with as much force and distaste as if it were something he’d been gagging on.

“I saw a small group of humans rush you into the theater through a side entrance,” he went on. “I slipped in after them, cloaked by my psychic abilities. I found you sleeping backstage, and I tapped your mind while you slept—just deep enough to learn if what that sign claimed was true—and thereby confirmed that it was.

“Even if it hadn’t been, I would’ve broken you out of there. The way you were being treated there, as a spectacle… it was sickening…” he hissed, his red eyes narrowing in disgust. “I was about to free you myself, but just then, another human came onto the scene, one in whom I immediately sensed benevolent intentions regarding you. A quick tap of her mind told me she was your friend and had come to rescue you from your would-be exploiters.

“You were awake at this point, but your attempts to escape were foiled by a restraining technique. I went and searched about the vicinity for the caster and thereby found a sableye—a dark-type, able to evade detection by my psychic senses. I dispatched him at once by means of a dragon claw.”

Solonn’s eyes narrowed in sudden suspicion. “Morgan told me that she’d taken him out,” he said.

Jal’tai sighed. “I’m afraid both you and Morgan were misled where that’s concerned,” he told Solonn. “You see, your human companion happened to walk in onto the scene where the sableye had been hiding just as I was dealing with him—using dragon claw required me to shift my focus from my psychic element to my dragon element, thus forcing me to give up my invisibility, and so it was that Morgan saw me there. I should explain that my kind are… valued by humans—” There was another charge of revolted emphasis on the word “valued”. “—due to our potent abilities. Though I sensed virtue in this particular human, I was in no position to say the same about the other humans in her life, and I confess that I was unwilling to take a chance on whether or not she’d keep my appearance a secret.

“Therefore, I found it necessary to modify her memory. I quickly rendered myself invisible once more. Then I placed a hammer I found lying nearby into her hand and implanted a memory of her using it to knock out the sableye. I made her forget having seen me.” He briefly closed his eyes and lowered his head as if in shame. “I regret that action now. I should’ve given her the benefit of the doubt. I should’ve recognized just how honorable she truly was. I did come to recognize it, after watching her help to free you, and following her as she guided you to safety outside the city…”

The latios’s face took on a faint, wistful smile. “She, a human, actually chose to let you part from her company rather than let you be exploited again… very noble… very rare. Anyhow… following the events of that evening, I knew you could go nowhere but west, and so I waited in the grass for you and then brought you here.”

“You could have told me all of this at the start,” Solonn admonished him. “And none of that explains why you needed to change me like this.”

“Actually,” Jal’tai said, “within what I’ve just told you lies the precise reason why your transformation was necessary. Those humans in Lilycove wanted to make a spectacle out of you because you were a glalie who could speak their language. For that quality, you were regarded as a freak—a valuable freak, yes, but a freak nonetheless—and you were treated as one.

“Now you are a human who can speak pokémon languages—you’ve been speaking a glalie language this entire time, as a matter of fact,” Jal’tai added. “My point is that humans sought to exploit and degrade you when you were a pokémon. They will not do that to you as a fellow human. The unfortunate truth is that generally speaking, humans only hold any real respect for their own kind. That is why I transformed you.”

“Without my consent!” Solonn shouted, throwing a feral look at Jal’tai.

“Yes, and I apologize!” Jal’tai responded swiftly, actually sounding quite hurt. “But that was only to spare you a very painful and disturbing experience. If the subject knows transfiguration is coming, their brain can’t be made to ignore it. With that in mind, I had a sleep-inducing drug added to your meal at Whitley’s. Once I was certain you’d fallen asleep in here, I entered the suite. Then, using certain of my psychic abilities, I put a sort of… for lack of a better term, a lock upon your brain to separate it from your tactile senses so that you wouldn’t awaken while I changed you.”

“You did it that way,” Solonn countered, “because you knew I’d say ‘no’.”

Jal’tai winced, then took on the most wounded expression Solonn had ever seen. It did nothing whatsoever to bring down the fear and outrage growing clearer by the second in Solonn’s eyes. “Please, my dear boy… please… you must believe me when I say that I never wanted you to suffer. My course of action was for the sake of mercy, and yes, it precluded your choice. For that, I am sorry, Solonn, sorrier than I could ever adequately express. But it had to be done. I need you, Solonn.”

For a moment, Solonn had nothing to say to the latios, silent save for his long, hard, rasping breaths, his shoulders shaking. He merely held an unforgiving gaze straight into the eyes of the creature who’d subjected him to this change and torn him from his mother element, feeling fresh tears making their way down his face as he thought once more of what he’d lost. At length, he closed his eyes and let his head sink to his chest, his hair almost completely veiling his face, and he held that position for a very long moment.

Finally, he lifted his head and opened his eyes, and he turned a cold, penetrating stare toward Jal’tai, his brows drawn tightly together, the already severe lines of his angular face sharpening further. “You’re no different,” Solonn said, his voice threatening to break. “You want to use my abilities to serve your purposes. You want to exploit me, Jal’tai, just like the humans did in Lilycove. You are no different from them.”

The latios pulled his head back as if Solonn had just taken a swing at him. His eyes widened dramatically, then narrowed sharply. “How dare you!” he hissed in outrage. “There is a tremendous difference between myself and those—” In lieu of a word, Jal’tai chose to describe the abductors of Lilycove with a short blast of acrid-smelling, sickly-yellow dragon breath over his shoulder. “I,” he went on, his voice dripping with indignation, “respect you.”

“You respect me?” Solonn said sharply, incredulously. “Is that why you’ve lied to me and subjected me to a physical transformation without my consent? Is that why you’re insulting my intelligence by expecting me to just sit here and swallow everything you say after that?”

“Solonn, please…”

Solonn shook his head. “No, Jal’tai. There is no reason why I should listen to you, not when you’ve been dishonest from the moment we met.” Sudden suspicion flashed across his features. “Answer this, Jal’tai: if running the city required me to be made human, why didn’t the same job require that of you?”

“Because you can’t do this,” the latios said simply, and with another rippling shimmer, the dragon was gone. Sitting there instead was an elderly, goateed human man—Solonn immediately recognized him as the man pictured on the sign at Whitley’s.

“This is what the citizens of Convergence, as well as those with whom I do business outside of town, see when they look at me,” Jal’tai said. “And this—” He suddenly sounded the part of the old man, too, with the human language to match. “—is what they hear. To them, I’m a human by the name of Rolf Whitley. Under this guise, I became a very important, albeit not widely recognized figure in human society. In addition to being the mastermind behind the Convergence Project, Rolf is also a very important senior member of the International Pokémon League. I couldn’t have attained that kind of power and the resources that come along with it using my true identity as a pokémon.”

Jal’tai reassumed his latios form. “Now, under less demanding circumstances, I could simply apply a mirage to you, too. In fact, when we entered Convergence, and when I brought you into this hotel, I presented you just as you now appear. But the method does have its limits, limits that make it impractical as a full-time, twenty-four-seven solution. For one thing, I can’t maintain a mirage from a distance, and not much of a distance, either. You’d have to remain within the sphere of my psychic perception, which in my old age is, I’m afraid, rather small. I think we can both agree that it would be impractical for me to follow you like a shadow everywhere you go, yes?”

Solonn gave him a look that suggested he wasn’t even inclined to agree about the sun being bright and the night being dark.

“Furthermore,” Jal’tai said, “it’s not enough to merely look like a human. You must feel like a human, as well. What if another human wanted to shake your hand? You’d have to be able to offer one they could clasp, one they could feel. Now, while I can produce ‘solid’ mirages, as I use for my own needs in portraying a human, I’m afraid it’s outside the scope of my abilities to project one over you and keep some kind of mirage or cloak over myself at all times. And it would be necessary for me to conceal my true identity somehow if I were to stay close enough to you at all times to maintain your disguise; again, being what I am, I mustn’t let just anyone see me about. Furthermore… I will remind you of the fact that I won’t be around to conceal your identity forever. Therefore, the only feasible way for you to meet those particular demands of this position was for me to transfigure you.”

Jal’tai sighed very heavily, lowering his head slightly and passing a talon backwards over it as if raking it through hair. “Solonn… do you not recognize how important it is to the future of the world that the Convergence Project is kept alive and running? This community must be maintained, for it’s a shining example of the fact that pokémon and humans can and should live and work as absolute equals—that anything humans can do, we can do, too. It’s an example sorely needed by the world. The state of relationships between humans and pokémon desperately needs to be changed. Solonn… did you know that most humans don’t realize—or else deny—that pokémon are intelligent beings?”

Solonn only stared back with wild eyes. His throat worked, but he didn’t answer.

“I didn’t think you were aware of that,” Jal’tai said softly, reading Solonn’s blank silence correctly. “It’s true, though. The majority of humans regard pokémon not as people, but as mere animals.” Disgust rose back up through his voice at those words. “That is why they’ll only respect one of their own kind,” the latios said. “Hence the unfortunate need for our façades.”

Solonn was silent for a moment after Jal’tai had finished speaking, deep in thought. Then, with dawning epiphany in his eyes, “You said you needed me—me, specifically, because I have ‘the Speech’, as you called it. You said the person in charge of this city has to have this ability—it’s necessary because the person running this city has to be able to communicate just as well with both humans and pokémon, because the job requires you to deal with both, do I understand right?”

Jal’tai blinked in surprise, then relaxed, looking equally relieved and impressed. “Yes, that’s correct,” he confirmed.

But to the latios’s surprise, Solonn shook his head. “No, Jal’tai. There was another way. Telepaths, Jal’tai,” he said. “Telepaths can make anyone understand them, including humans. How can you have not even considered this? You’re probably a telepath yourself!”

Jal’tai lowered his head slightly and sighed. “That would certainly be convenient if it were truly a viable option, but unfortunately there are reasons why it can’t be. There’s no shortage of people in this world who are mistrusting, even fearful of psychics and the abilities commonly associated with us, including telepathy. Those insecurities and superstitions make those of any species who’d have to rely on telepathy to communicate unsuitable for the job. Convergence and its mission will not be accepted by as many as we need if its leader is one to whom so many would not listen.”

“Even with our measures to respect their privacy in place, many species still don’t trust us.” Sei Salma’s words echoed in Solonn’s memory, and a twinge of guilt struck him. But at the same time, he couldn’t help but sympathize with those who were wary of psychics—the notion of another creature being able to reach and affect his mind was harder for him to abide by when he thought of that latios having trespassed there so recently.

After a moment of scrambling, his mind managed to scrape together another possible argument. “The unown-script, what about that?” he asked. “Both humans and pokémon understand it—and everyone here is made to learn it…”

Jal’tai tried to speak then, but Solonn pressed on, something fierce in his expression. The human was now all too desperately certain that he’d found proof that Jal’tai hadn’t had to do this to him, and that certainty stoked his fury to new heights. “Any human who knows the unown-script could have been your replacement, and there are plenty of those here because knowing unown-script is mandatory here. You didn’t need me. It could have been any of them! You didn’t need me!” he cried.

“Solonn… you must get a hold of yourself,” Jal’tai said, sounding genuinely concerned for Solonn—but there was also the slightest hint of a warning along the edges of his voice. “Calm down, please…”

But Solonn was inconsolable. “You didn’t have to do this to me! You didn’t need me!” he practically shrieked.

Jal’tai let out a long, slow exhalation and met Solonn’s feral stare, looking like a parent who’d finally lost the last shred of patience for their child’s behavior. “I said, calm down,” he said, rising into the air and looking down upon the human with displeasure. There was an ominous gravity to his voice that hadn’t been there before, a far cry from the jovial tone that he’d once used.

Jal’tai raised his talons, then swiftly brought them together and pointed them at Solonn. The latios’s eyes suddenly blazed with a fuchsia light—Solonn’s went massively wide with shock, and he began gasping at the air, unable to breathe.

“I can’t have you losing your mind, Solonn,” Jal’tai said gravely. “Not when you have such a demanding future ahead of you.”

Solonn could only stare back in mortal terror as Jal’tai’s telekinetic onslaught continued, preventing his lungs from filling. His vision was failing, growing dark around the edges and hazing out of focus, and he could feel a smothering oblivion trying to consume his mind.

But before he could succumb to the lack of air, Jal’tai relented. Solonn immediately took a massive, involuntary gulp of air, pain exploding within his chest as his lungs harshly refilled themselves. He slackened, slumping over against the dresser, his head hanging low. After several more sharp, gasping breaths, he weakly raised his head to look up at the latios, his face a sweat-drenched mask of pure, primal terror.

Jal’tai gazed down sorrowfully at the former glalie, shaking his head. “I’m very disappointed in you, my boy,” he said heavily. “I’d thought you would understand the importance of this project. This is about something far greater than you, Solonn. This is about the future of our world, a better future. An equal future. Without our efforts, pokémon will never earn the respect and dignity that we deserve from humanity.”

He set himself back down on the floor in front of Solonn, who automatically shrank further into the corner. The latios sighed in equal parts sorrow and exasperation. “You must accept your destiny, Solonn,” he said quietly. “You must realize you were blessed with the Speech for a higher purpose.”

He laid a talon upon Solonn’s arm to try and console him; Solonn immediately flinched at the contact but didn’t have the strength to resist further. “Please, Solonn. This is a most wonderful and important calling that has chosen you… you should be honored, Solonn. At the very least, you should recognize that losing your head over this isn’t going to make things any different for you, and it’s not going to make things as they were. You must find the serenity to accept this. Please…” he said, squeezing the human’s arm gently, “don’t make me have to pacify you again. I told you that I never wanted you to suffer, and I meant it…”

The latios sighed sorrowfully again and rose back up into the air. “Now, to answer your earlier questions regarding unown-script… it’s true that it’s mandatory for all citizens of this city to learn. However, it is not required learning in the rest of the world. As the mayor, and as part of the Convergence Project, you will frequently have to deal with outsiders, both human and pokémon, with whom you’ll have to be able to speak on their terms. A human who possesses the Speech is the only one who can speak freely to all peoples, to whom all peoples would listen. Hence you are as you are. It’s as simple as that. So you see, I do need you, Solonn.”

Jal’tai cast a glance off to his right, toward the bedroom. “In time, I hope you’ll be able to see things more clearly. Until then, I’m afraid you’ll have to remain in this suite. I will give you the code to exit the room using the transport tile when I feel you’re ready to re-enter society as a human, and I will gladly speak with you more in order to help you prepare for your future duties, but only once I can be sure that you’ve regained your composure enough to listen to me. For now, though, I think you could do with some quiet time alone to relax and contemplate your destiny.”

Jal’tai’s eyes once again took on the fuchsia glow that accompanied his telekinesis, and once again, he applied the psychic force to Solonn. But this time, he merely used his powers to gently lift Solonn from the floor. Panic was written all over the human’s face; he desperately wanted to be released from Jal’tai’s telekinetic hold, but it was just too strong. He couldn’t put up any sort of a struggle against Jal’tai’s power.

The latios guided him through the air, bringing him into the suite’s bedroom, then set him down upon the bed. “Be at peace, my dear boy,” Jal’tai said in a warm, paternal tone. He relinquished the light in his eyes and his hold over Solonn along with it. Then a golden light blossomed around him. A second later, it faded, and Jal’tai was gone.

The human lay there, alone now but finding no comfort in his solitude. Jal’tai was gone for the time being, but in teleporting out, he’d revealed that he could return at any time, without any warning.

Solonn felt another pang of anguish as he lay there thinking upon what he’d become and what he could no longer be. With his identity and element gone, there was no returning to the life he’d once known. Even if he could escape from this suite, this prison, this city and the one to whom it belonged… what then? He couldn’t go back to anyone he once knew, neither Morgan nor his own kind—or what had once been his kind—back in Virc-Dho. None of them would recognize him now, and he couldn’t imagine that they’d believe that he was not as he appeared, that he really was the pokémon they’d once known, just trapped in a human body.

Solonn moaned softly as if in defeat. Trembling, he drew his arms and legs up against his chest and broke into tears once more as he truly realized the impact of this new reality. His life as he had known it was over.

 

[diamondpearl876]

Solonn stared agape at him for seconds on end. He then cast a couple of flitting glances back and forth between the Jal’tai and the nearby statue.

Jal’tai followed one of those glances and then let out a chuckle. “No, no, dear boy,” he said. “That is a latias. I am a latios.”

Because the difference is really so obvious, am I right?

“What does what you are have to do with… with this?” Solonn demanded in a pained hiss, sweeping his gaze quickly over himself before returning his wild, bewildered stare to the dragon.

I like the phrase "pained hiss," though I think it sounds better as "with a pained hiss".

Solonn hadn’t known what swellow were and weren’t capable of, nor did he care to know these things. Jal’tai’s explanation held little meaning for Solonn and fell quite short of a satisfying answer.

I don't think there is such as a thing as a "satisfying answer" in this situation. In any case, I do like the way you show Solonn's reluctance and thought process regarding changes in his life without making him seem too whiny or resistant.

I’m not merely a proud citizen of this great city. I’m also the mayor and director of the Convergence Project, its guide and guardian.”

Well, I knew he was important, but somehow I still wasn't quite expecting all of this, nor will I probably expect how Solonn has anything to do with this.

“I love my city, Solonn,” he said wistfully. “I love it more than anything else in this world. But the fact remains that I won’t be around to guide it forever. Therefore, someone will need to take my place someday.

“This is where you come in, Solonn. Now, it may not be obvious to the eye of the beholder, but I am getting on in years… Soon, I’ll be retiring from my position as mayor of Convergence, and the city will need someone to take my office when I depart. That someone is required to have a very particular and very rare skill in common with me—it’s rendered a necessity by the very nature of this place. My successor must be able, just as I am, to freely and fluently communicate with pokémon and humans alike. My successor must possess the Speech.”

See? Wasn't expecting that. "the Speech" sounds slightly corny, but this is Jal'tai so I'll let you get away with it.

My course found me flying over Lilycove, and there I caught sight of a most deplorable scene: there was a sign out in front of an old, miserable looking theater, promising a real, live… ‘talking’ pokémon inside…” The latios spat out the word “talking” with as much force and distaste as if it were something he’d been gagging on.

At this point, Solonn should mention meowth from the anime and move on with life.

“Therefore, I found it necessary to modify her memory. I quickly rendered myself invisible once more. Then I placed a hammer I found lying nearby into her hand and implanted a memory of her using it to knock out the sableye. I made her forget having seen me.”

This explanation is nice and all and makes sense, but it isn't really necessary, if what you're trying to do is make Solonn more suspicious. I don't really think -anything- could make him more suspicious than he already is at this point.

With that in mind, I had a sleep-inducing drug added to your meal at Whitley’s.

Ah, so that explains his sudden tiredness and such. Also, I keep reading Whitley's as Wendy's. Makes me hungry.

“I’d thought you would understand the =importance of this project.

Is that an... equal sign I see in this sentence?

I mean, I know Jal'tai thinks pokemon and humans are equal, but still...

Overall this was a very emotional chapter, both for the reader and Solonn. I definitely felt Solonn's terror through his dialogue and his actions (particularly his constant glares, haha) and I even felt my chest tighten when Jal'tai had to pacify him with his psychic powers. I'm really still unsure how to feel about Jal'tai, but if he's an antagonist, he's acting like a real damn hero, isn't he?

 

[Sike Saner]

@diamondpearl876 No, no, that's not an equal sign. Those're speed lines. That word has places to be.

Yeah I don't know how it got in there either. XD;

Agreed about the hiss-line as well. Also, an equal sign just tried to sneak into that "agreed". The key responsible is right next to the backspace key. Mystery solved, I suppose.

And there is, actually, a perfectly satisfying answer in that context: "We're going to Wendy's." Frosties fix everything.

Gosh damn I wish we still had a Wendy's in town.

Thanks for the read-and-reply; I'm probably gonna be in a really good mood all evening now.

 

[Beth Pavell]

It's taken me far too long to continue reading this, so my apologies. I do intend to read Chapter 12 soon, if I can, but for now, Chapter 11.

Technical Accuracy/Style
Not a lot new to say, really. I appreciate a relatively snappy chapter that's not a complete arc in itself, something that you haven't yet done with this story. A bit more attention paid to building the scene, and building the impact of it, in this chapter - something that the story's been in need of for a while now

Story
I continue to have no idea where the hell this is going. On the whole I consider this to be a good thing in the context of pokémon fanfiction, which is perhaps too overdosed on its own tropes. I mean, even if I hated the characters and didn't care for your prose (Neither of which is true), I'd be tempted to keep reading just to see where you're going with this. There is the potential problem peeking out of the wings, that Communication will end up looking like two stories welded together by the faux-kidnapping rather than one coherent narrative.

Characters
Giving Solonn a bit more headspace in the narrative wasn't a bad idea. I still haven't made up my mind about Jal'Tai. As one of your caricature'd supporting characters - complete with a "No need to worry, dear boy" mode of speech - I had no problem whatsoever. I have my reservations about how well that will work considering his rapidly expanding role, but we'll see, I'm not about to write him off yet

Final Thoughts
As usual, Communication is always at the very least different. I suppose I should make it clear that whatever fiction I'm reading, I tend to think about what bits are making me sceptical. If I'm sceptical, it means that I'm waiting to make up my mind - it's not a bad comment!

 

[Sike Saner]

@Beth Pavell What's funny is, this story actually was two intertwined stories back in its earliest form--but the second story ended up on the cutting room floor. It was basically a future for the characters that just plain didn't make sense, and its chapters alternated with the past-era chapters for no reason at all other than, I suppose, having seen it done somewhere else.

In other hands, with chapters that actually reflected one another in some meaningful way, and with a future storyline that didn't require enough holes in the plot to make a lotus pod cringe, it might have worked just fine. As it was, the alternating chapters format got scrapped pdq.

Thanks muchly for the read-n-reply! :>

 

[Beth Pavell]

Ok, finally got round to Chapter Twelve, so that's another review struck off the list

Technical Accuracy/Style
I like that you bothered to add the accent in façade. Again, better paced in terms of the emotion of the scene. If you ever come to do a rewrite, something like this pacing for Solonn's initial transition from his own world to the human world wouldn't go amiss

Story
With this chapter the story's a bit more coherent. I do think that the explanation for what happened at the theatre was necessary, as much for binding the earlier Contest-focused arc together with this one. I hope at this point that the plot won't change again - I'm invested into the Convergence idea now, and I think I would be irritated by another plot change

Characters
Well if nothing else, this is a character-based chapter. The whole thing hinges on how much we believe in the transformation, and in that regard you got away with it. I don't care how or why Jal'tai is able to transfigure Solonn because I believe in the motives and the consequences of it. I think that Jal'tai is rather taking the easy option - he doesn't seem to have much of a plan for what happens when Solonn has to retire, for one thing. The chapter absolutely definitely needed Solonn to poke holes in Jal'tai's plan - it would be rather nice to see Solonn point out that Morgan actually gave him a choice, once she realised that Solonn was unhappy, while Jal'tai is acting like the tyrant he believes humans to be

Final Thoughts
As ever, keep going with it

 

[Sike Saner]

@Beth Pavell I wish dearly I could take credit for remembering the accent in "façade", but I think that was actually the word processor's doing. On the upside, it's good that it did something right for a change rather than, say, suggesting "soybean" in place of "psybeam".

Yes, it actually did that. One of these days I ought to let one of these things make all the ridiculous replacements it wants in some chapter or another, just to see what happens.

Thanks once again! :>

 

[Sike Saner]

Chapter 13 – Small Steps​

Solonn lay listlessly on the bed, staring up at the ceiling fan above him as if mesmerized by the whirling of its blades. Through vision blurred by sheer exhaustion and an almost continuous stream of tears, it looked like a shimmering vortex of light and motion, and part of him felt like it could just draw him right in.

Hours had passed since the loss of his identity, his element, and his freedom, but he hadn’t regarded the time as it had crept by and didn’t mark the passing moments now. Physically, he was utterly drained, but his mind was host to too many troubles to allow him any rest. He still ached from the telekinetic punishment he’d suffered at Jal’tai’s hands. His body complained of hunger, of lying in the same position for a considerable while, and of a number of other things. But lost as he was in barely-willing contemplation of his situation, Solonn couldn’t really care about his physical discomfort or even truly notice it. The troubles from within just seemed so petty in comparison to what—and who—now troubled him from the outside.

Jal’tai’s voice finally broke the near-silence, managing to cut through all the other things that were attending Solonn’s mind. “Are you awake? I’d like to come in and have a few moments with you if you don’t mind,” the latios called to Solonn from the hall outside.

Solonn didn’t respond, not even so much as to turn toward the voice, but regarded what the latios had just said with weak derision. Since when do you care what I do or don’t mind?

“Prepare to receive a visitor,” announced the voice of the suite. Jal’tai was using the transport tile, Solonn realized. It seemed strange that Jal’tai would bother with it considering that he could simply teleport in whenever he pleased, with no need to warn his prisoner before entering. Solonn didn’t even glance back toward the adjacent den and the transport tile therein, remaining motionless.

Once inside, Jal’tai drifted silently into the bedroom. He appeared at the edge of Solonn’s vision, and in his true form this time; he no longer bothered with any disguises, any pretense. Solonn shut his eyes, curling up and turning away from the latios. A second later, Jal’tai set himself down on the bed beside him.

“Good morning, Solonn,” he said amiably. “How are you feeling today, my boy?”

Solonn gave no response.

The latios frowned; already this wasn’t going well for him. “I wanted to have a few more words with you about what lies ahead for you,” he said, sounding considerably more reserved than he had moments ago. He moved closer to Solonn, looming over him for a moment before craning his neck downward to look right into the human’s face.

“Listen,” Jal’tai said, something slightly authoritative creeping into his voice. “I know this has been quite an overwhelming experience for you, but you’re going to have to adjust to things as they now are, and preferably before too much longer. There’s much that you’ll have to get used to, but I know you can do it.”

He lowered a talon and gently took hold of Solonn’s face, lifting and turning it toward his own. Solonn didn’t bother to resist the contact, his face expressionless as he finally looked at Jal’tai again through glazed eyes. Somewhere deep inside, a bitter, smoldering hatred arose at the sight of those red eyes, that kindly face, but Solonn didn’t dare let it out despite being sure that it’d be wonderfully cathartic. He knew how dangerous Jal’tai’s displeasure could be and was very mindful of the fact that any voiced dissent on his part might invite that wrath—and the mortal threat that came with it—once again.

“You know,” Jal’tai said, “there are certain positive aspects of your current situation that I don’t think you’ve taken the time to consider. Perhaps they’ve simply failed to cross your mind in the midst of everything that must be buzzing about in there, or perhaps you didn’t even know such benefits existed.”

Jal’tai paused to allow Solonn to ask what he was talking about, but no such question came. Apparently unfazed by Solonn’s continuing silent treatment, he resumed. “I happen to know you have a particular aversion to eating meat,” he said. “I inadvertently learned this about you when I confirmed that you have the Speech. Knowing this, I was sorry to make you partake of the Specialty of the House the night before last, and I apologize again now. But you needed it in order to have the strength to endure your transformation.

“But you needn’t ever eat meat again if you don’t want to. Humans are omnivores, Solonn. They don’t have to feed on the flesh of others. Good news for you, wouldn’t you say?”

The notion of never having to eat meat again might have appealed greatly to Solonn under different circumstances, but he couldn’t see such a luxury being worth what his transfiguration had cost him. Through silence, he rejected Jal’tai’s appeal.

Jal’tai let go of the bright, hopeful look in his eyes at this point, his brow and mouth setting into hard lines. “Well, Solonn,” he began, his tone rather stern now, “if you can’t see the merit in this for yourself, I certainly hope you can at least be glad for what your cooperation will help make possible for others. After all, when it all comes down to it, this isn’t about you, me, or this city, but rather the world, the future.”

Here he let go of Solonn’s face and rose from the bed, hovering in place above the human. Solonn immediately turned away once more, trying to ignore the shadow that hung over him.

“The fact of the matter is that whether or not you think you’re ready to begin your new life, you must begin it nonetheless,” Jal’tai told him firmly. “I told you that I’ll soon need to be replaced as the mayor of this city, and I wasn’t joking around. You have a lot to learn, Solonn, and you must begin doing so as soon as possible.”

Jal’tai left the room, leaving Solonn alone with the swarm of thoughts infesting his mind, including the question of what else the latios might have absorbed from his mind—and the doubt that the absorption had really been accidental. He figured Jal’tai had probably just gone ahead and pulled his mind wide open while he’d slept in that theater, leaving no corner of his brain untouched by his psychic powers, taking advantage of the fact that his subject was completely powerless to stop him.

That was the way Jal’tai liked things to be, Solonn determined without a doubt: the latios preferred to be in total control of any given situation, with those he dealt in no position to contest his will. That was surely the real reason he’d turned Solonn into a creature devoid of elemental power: so that he couldn’t really fight back.

It wasn’t long before Jal’tai returned. Not wanting to look upon him if he could help it, Solonn didn’t even know Jal’tai was in the room with him again until the latios spoke.

“It’s time you started growing accustomed to your humanity, Solonn, but for your sake we’ll begin with small steps. Here,” Jal’tai said gently, then lowered something in front of Solonn.

All Solonn could see was a length of black, folded fabric; his face was half-buried in the comforter underneath him. He couldn’t tell what the offered item actually was.

Jal’tai recognized that Solonn didn’t really have the best view of what he was trying to show him. He unfolded the thing and laid it down directly in front of Solonn’s face. Solonn could now clearly see that he’d just been given a pair of boxer shorts.

“You do know how these go on, do you not?” Jal’tai asked.

Solonn stared at the shorts. He did have a fair understanding of how they were supposed to be worn; the pants that Morgan had worn were fundamentally similar, albeit longer. He was almost too weary to bother with the boxers… but the events of the night before were still fresh in his mind, and the memories of the more painful ones shone especially vibrantly. If he didn’t do what the latios expected of him, he risked being subjected to that psychic punishment again.

Besides which, the boxers would restore some small amount of his dignity. Solonn tried to focus on that point in an effort to convince himself that his next actions were motivated by more than just terror. Without a word, he stirred, shifted, and grabbed the shorts. Rather awkwardly, he sat halfway up, staring at them and turning them over in his hands as he tried to figure out which side was which. Once he was sure he had it right, he put them on, slipping them over both ankles at once and wriggling clumsily the rest of the way into them.

“Hmm… I’m afraid you’ve got those on backwards, my boy,” Jal’tai said, wearing an odd expression that only partially succeeded in concealing a hint of amusement.

With a faint sigh, Solonn took the shorts off and put them back on, correctly this time.

“That’s more like it,” Jal’tai said with a smile and a nod. “Now, wearing clothing, even as little of it as you’re presently wearing, might seem strange at first, but I promise you’ll get used to it quickly enough.”

Solonn thought that was a little odd coming from someone who could just pretend his clothes onto himself. Besides which, he didn’t find the notion of covering up strange at all; as a glalie, he’d kept most of his body covered in ice at nearly all times.

“All right, then,” Jal’tai said with a clap of his talons, his voice having regained its former brightness. “Why don’t we take a little tour of this lovely little place, hmm? You’ll be living in this suite until you’re ready to take my office, so you might as well start making yourself at home here. Also, you’ll need to get an idea of how everything works around here; this suite has everything you’ll need in your day-to-day life, but that does you no good if you don’t know where and how to get it all.

“Up you get, then.” Jal’tai didn’t bother waiting for Solonn to get up of his own volition. Once again, he moved Solonn telekinetically, lifting him off of the bed and onto his feet. He then partially relaxed his psychic hold, keeping the human upright but otherwise allowing him to move freely.

“No need to worry, my boy; I won’t let you fall,” Jal’tai assured him. “Now, I know this is about as different as possible from the levitation you’d been used to, but still, walking on two legs shouldn’t be entirely alien to you. After all, you were born as a biped, were you not?”

That much was true; in fact, it’d been less than three months since Solonn had previously had legs. He’d gotten around by walking for nearly two decades prior to his evolution.

You’ve done it before, Solonn reminded himself in a continuous loop as he stood there, but that mantra fell just short of building any real confidence in his human legs. They were, after all, a far cry from a snorunt’s; they were almost ridiculously long and gangly in comparison, and it was hard to believe they could really support him. He was so mistrustful of them that if it weren’t for Jal’tai’s telekinesis keeping him upright, his lack of faith might’ve made them give out.

But again, Solonn was very mindful of the threat that lay at the end of Jal’tai’s patience. Inhaling deeply, trying to avoid overanalyzing what he was doing, he took one short, unsteady step forward and then another. He stopped for a moment as he finally remembered to exhale the breath he’d taken; even if he wasn’t altogether calm and sure of what he was doing, he wanted to look like he was. With an effort, he lifted his gaze from the carpet to the latios hovering nearby, signaling that he was good to go.

Jal’tai accepted this, nodding slightly with a small smile. “Good, good. Come, then, let me show you around…”

He turned to his left and drifted out of the bedroom, then looked over his shoulder and made a beckoning motion with a single talon. Unenthusiastically, but mindfully compliant all the same, Solonn followed. He tried to move a little quicker and more confidently than he’d been moving, but his faith in those limbs was still somewhat lacking, and it showed. While he was keeping fairly close to Jal’tai (though the latios’s deliberately slow drift was mostly to credit for that), his legs were doing nearly as much wobbling as walking. But Jal’tai kept him steady, telekinetically supporting him through every step.

The latios led him into the den, where there were especially many of those dragon statues. Solonn found himself rather disliking their blithe expressions, the way they smiled as if they approved of what had been done to him. Jal’tai drifted over to the green armchair; smiling, he motioned for the human to come and join. Apparently Jal’tai regarded the chair as noteworthy, though Solonn couldn’t fathom why. He came to stand at Jal’tai’s side, trying not to fidget too conspicuously despite his unease around the latios.

“Have a look at this,” Jal’tai said as he clutched the soft arm of the chair. He pulled up on it slowly to ensure that the human at his side could see what he was doing. The arm opened on an unseen hinge, revealing a previously hidden compartment containing a small, silver device.

“This is the remote control for your entertainment system,” Jal’tai told him. “In case you’ve not seen one of these in use, observe.” He drifted over to a large oak armoire against the wall and opened it, revealing a television, a DVD player, and a CD player surrounded by speakers. Jal’tai then returned to Solonn’s side and pointed the remote at the devices.

“Pay close attention, now,” Jal’tai instructed, and indicated one of the remote’s buttons followed by another. He repeated this action a couple of times, intent on making sure that Solonn memorized the sequence, then pushed the two buttons in succession. The CD player came awake with golden LED numbers, and a split-second later, a light, jazzy tune started playing.

Jal’tai let it play for a few moments, smiling slightly as he listened, his eyes closed. Then he shut the music off, making certain to let Solonn see how he did so.

“If you’re not in the mood for music, you could always enjoy what the television has to offer,” the latios said, then demonstrated how to turn the television on. The screen lit up with an image of a human in a brightly colored suit and tie. The human was standing in front of a brown car, shouting about being crazy and about offering the lowest prices in Hoenn.

“You’ve got three hundred and fifty-one channels to choose from. These arrows here—” He indicated two more buttons. “—will let you cycle up and down through them one at a time, or you can go straight to a channel by inputting its number with the numeral buttons. I’m sure you’ll memorize the good ones quickly enough…” He glanced back at the television, where a different human was singing the praises of some bizarre device in a very shrill voice. Jal’tai regarded the commercial with an odd look before turning back to Solonn.

“I’ll admit, most of those channels are pure rubbish around the clock,” he said, “but there are also a couple of real quality stations—they’re broadcast from right here in Convergence,” he informed Solonn, sounding unmistakably proud. He changed the channel again, and this time pokémon appeared on the screen rather than humans. A ledian sat behind a desk. Beside him, a small image appeared: a medicham in a police uniform, along with two houndoom with badges affixed to collars, leading three smeargle out of a building.

“Police have finally apprehended the vandals responsible for defacing storefronts downtown on numerous occasions,” the ledian anchorman reported, while at the bottom of the screen, his words were displayed in unown-script subtitles for the benefit of human viewers. “Whether these individuals were actively trying to claim territory or merely acting toward their own amusement remains unclear, but the CPD has issued a statement saying that whatever their motives might have—”

Jal’tai turned off the television, then put the remote back in its storage compartment. “There’s something else I have to show you with regards to the television, but let’s finish having our look around first, shall we?”

The latios left the den, and Solonn shuffled out after him with one last glance at the now dark and lifeless screen. He wasn’t overly impressed with it; he was already somewhat familiar with television, having watched it with Morgan a few times back when he was still small enough to be kept indoors. Even then, though its ability to reproduce images and sounds even more faithfully than his own memory certainly impressed him, what he’d seen of its programming had fallen short of appealing. Under normal circumstances, the idea of the stations this city boasted, run by pokémon for pokémon, might have intrigued him. But again, these were far from normal circumstances.

Jal’tai then guided him into a walk-in closet. It was fairly long and wide enough to admit Jal’tai’s generous, rigid wingspan, albeit just barely.

“Now, it was never my intent to have you running around in your underwear all the time,” Jal’tai said, with yet another of his chuckles. “Here, I’ve provided you with an exquisite collection of some of the finest clothing money can buy. I’ve spared no expense for you, my boy—why, just look at this here.” He gestured to his right, where a navy blue jacket hung.

Much less interested in it than the latios seemed to be, “Hm,” Solonn said. In truth, he found nothing at all remarkable about the jacket. He was equally unimpressed by the rest of the clothing Jal’tai showed him, but he gave the latios, who was obviously quite proud of these purchases, an occasional, noncommittal noise or vague nod, feigning at least some interest in his new wardrobe.

As there wasn’t room enough in the closet for Jal’tai to turn around, the latios chose to teleport back into the den. He resumed his tour, ushering Solonn into a spacious bathroom, one that had been designed with various species in mind. There were sinks at three different heights and four different kinds of toilets. The shower was quite large, with multiple spigots of varying shapes and sizes; in addition to the standard one that dispensed water, the others offered bathing options such as “mud”, “sand”, and “acid”, according to a large, yellow label affixed just outside the shower compartment. All the fixtures were similarly labeled, with instructions for their use in human- and unown-script. Solonn also noticed small, white labels, apparently handwritten, that designated certain of the fixtures for human use.

There were also mirrors in this room: one over each sink and a tall one that stood alone against the opposite wall. In the third mirror, Solonn saw his new, human face for the first time. The dark eyes that had become his own stared back at him from within the glass, bloodshot and glazed over.

Solonn didn’t notice at first when Jal’tai spoke next, the latios’s words reaching him with a delay through the fog enveloping his mind. “This, Solonn, is where you’ll attend to your hygienic needs… among other needs,” the latios said. “Be sure to read those labels; they’ll show you exactly how to use these things, as well as which among them you should use and which you shouldn’t. Generally speaking, most of this equipment is for the purposes of cleaning and grooming yourself, whereas this—” Jal’tai craned his neck toward the toilets, pointing at the one that was suitable for use by humans. “—well, its purpose is…”

Short moments later, they left the bathroom and went to the other end of the suite, where the kitchen was located. The room itself was quite small, as were the appliances within it: the refrigerator, sink, counter, and electric range were much shorter than their counterparts in kitchens designed solely for human use (though the refrigerator was also rather wider than the typical human-style model, so as not to forsake any of its capacity). Cabinets, drawers, a toaster, a blender, and a microwave oven were also set up at heights that were convenient for smaller species. Yellow instruction labels like those found in the bathroom were present here, too, detailing the use of each of the appliances. There was also a modest dining area adjoined to the kitchen, containing a small, low table and a trio of cushioned, wooden stools.

“Here is where you can get yourself something to eat whenever the need or desire arises, as I would imagine it surely must have by now,” Jal’tai said. “You must be famished, hmm?”

Solonn was hungry indeed, and considerably so; he hadn’t eaten since the evening before last. He’d just been so preoccupied through most of the time since that his hunger, as well as several other physical complaints, had gone largely ignored. Still, for the dragon’s sake, “Hm,” he responded, with yet another minimal nod to indicate his reply was affirmative.

“Mmm-hmm, figured as much,” Jal’tai said. He pulled a bowl down from the cabinets, followed by a box of frosted corn flakes. He set them on the kitchen counter, then fetched a quart-sized carton of milk and a nanab berry. Faintly humming the jazzy tune from earlier, the latios poured a small amount of cereal and milk into the bowl, then diced up the nanab with his claws and tossed that in, too.

Jal’tai brought the bowl of cereal to the table along with a spoon, then fixed a glass of milk, set it down next to the bowl, and beckoned Solonn to come over. The human complied, stopping a couple of feet away from Jal’tai as the latios pulled out a chair for him and pointed at it.

Having seen humans sit down before, Solonn had a sense of what to do. He went over to the chair, trying to allow his body to fold up and conform to it. He did a fairly commendable job of it, though he did drop himself onto the chair a little too hard; he grimaced at the unpleasant shock to his tailbone.

“I certainly hope you like this,” Jal’tai said pleasantly as he hovered beside Solonn. “It’s something I’ve developed something of an addiction to, I’ll confess,” he said with a chuckle. “Plus, it’s something that’s very easy to whip up; I’m sure you can do it yourself anytime now that you’ve seen me do it. Now, I wouldn’t go so far as to say that this is the sort of thing you ought to be living on, but as far as more advanced meal preparation goes… well, no one becomes a master chef in a day, now do they?” He laughed again, then turned an expectant gaze straight into Solonn’s eyes. “Well, have at it, then!” he said cheerfully.

Solonn merely stared into his cereal for a moment. Almost robotically, he began to lower his hand toward the bowl—but a blue, three-clawed talon kept it from plunging into it.

“Whoops!” Jal’tai exclaimed, laughing. “I can’t believe I could be so forgetful… Here.” He showed Solonn the spoon. “Use this; it’s proper human etiquette, not to mention less messy. You just scoop it up like this,” he said, miming the action a couple of times before handing the spoon to Solonn.

Solonn did well enough with it; he only spilled a couple of spoonfuls. The cereal and berries were pleasantly sweet, but his near-apathy toward eating at the moment made it a little difficult to finish his breakfast. But he managed it nonetheless, earning a pleased smile from the dragon who’d been hovering beside him all the while.

“There, now wasn’t that nice?” Jal’tai asked; Solonn gave another vague response. The latios took a small roll of paper towels from the cabinets, cleaned up the spilled cereal, then put the used dishes into the sink. Once he was finished tidying up, he motioned for Solonn to rise and follow him once more, and the human did so without a word.

Once they were back in the den, Jal’tai turned on the television back on, bringing a rather tone-deaf, singing meowth to life on the screen. “You’ll recall that I mentioned having something else to show you over here, correct?” the latios said as he made his way over to the armoire, opening the cabinet under the television and producing a DVD jewel case from it. Solonn gave even less of a response than he’d been giving, but Jal’tai didn’t seem to mind.

The latios looked over his shoulder and saw Solonn just standing there beside the armchair. “Go ahead and have a seat,” he said while carefully prying the disc out of its case with his claws. “Watch me carefully, now,” he said once he saw that Solonn had done as he was told. He turned on the DVD player and popped in the disc, then went to hover at Solonn’s side.

“This is just one out of a series of videos I made for the benefit of my successor in the event that they’d come to me in the form of a pokémon,” Jal’tai said as the video started, bringing up a simple menu in unown-script onto the screen. The menu bore only two options: “Setup” and “Play”. “Now, to begin the video, you simply press these,” he said, showing Solonn which buttons to press. “This will pause it if you need to take a break while viewing; this one will go back and replay certain parts if you need to review them or if you miss something; and this one will stop it when you’re finished watching it. Then just take the disc out and put it back where it belongs—the ‘OPEN’ and ‘POWER’ buttons over there are clearly labeled,” he added, waving toward the armoire.

Meanwhile, the video began. Rather loud, synthesizer-based music started blaring, and “Humanity and You” appeared on the screen in brightly colored letters.

Jal’tai grinned. “I think you’ll enjoy these, Solonn; they really turned out quite nicely. These videos will help you learn the basic habits and skills of living as a human. Once you’ve watched this volume, you can just pop in another one and watch that. Mind you, they are numbered, and you’d do well to watch them in numerical order—some of the later ones might be a bit confusing if you don’t.”

Jal’tai placed the remote in Solonn’s hand, then drifted over to the wall separating the suite from the hall outside. “I’ll check in on you again sometime soon,” he said. “Oops… you’ve missed part of that video on account of my talking, haven’t you?” he added, sounding mildly embarrassed and apologetic. “You might want to back that up, then. Well, anyhow, I’ll be seeing you!” With that, the dragon left, once again skipping the keypad and transport tile and just teleporting out instead.

Solonn stared dully at the television screen, not really absorbing anything going on there and not bothering to restart the video from the beginning as per Jal’tai’s advice. His mind was still on Jal’tai even though the latios had left. Solonn had stashed most of his loathing for Jal’tai deep within his mind while in his presence, silently detached from it through a sort of numb resignation born of self-preservation. But now, with the latios no longer shadowing him, all of the offense, hatred, and bitter indignation that Jal’tai inspired within him came to the forefront once again.

Solonn very briefly let his attention light upon the video. He shut the doors of his mind to it again almost immediately. The program was the handiwork of that latios, just another element of his scheme—Solonn couldn’t help but dislike it. He paid the video no further mind even as it concluded, returned to the menu screen, and began playing its loud theme music on a continuous loop.

 

[diamondpearl876]

Solonn lay listlessly on the bed, staring up at the ceiling fan above him as if mesmerized by the whirling of its blades. Through vision blurred by sheer exhaustion and an almost continuous stream of tears, it looked like a shimmering vortex of light and motion, and part of him felt like it could just draw him right in.

Ohh, this is pretty description and is worded wonderfully.

Hours had passed since the loss of his identity, his element, and his freedom, but he hadn’t regarded the time as it had crept by and didn’t mark the passing moments now.

Pretty accurate feeling of what happens under great stress, I'd say.

Physically, he was utterly drained, but his mind was host to too many troubles to allow him any rest. He still ached from the telekinetic punishment he’d suffered at Jal’tai’s hands. His body complained of hunger, of lying in the same position for a considerable while, and of a number of other things. But lost as he was in barely-willing contemplation of his situation, Solonn couldn’t really care about his physical discomfort or even truly notice it. The troubles from within just seemed so petty in comparison to what—and who—now troubled him from the outside.

The paragraph's a bit disorganized. You go back and forth from mentioning the physical, then mental aspects. Also, the last sentence seems out of place, since you're talking about something else entirely, something external. If that makes sense. The concept is there and is a great idea to explore, though.

“Prepare to receive a visitor,” announced the voice of the suite. Jal’tai was using the transport tile, Solonn realized. It seemed strange that Jal’tai would bother with it considering that he could simply teleport in whenever he pleased, with no need to warn his prisoner before entering. Solonn didn’t even glance back toward the adjacent den and the transport tile therein, remaining motionless.

Some kind of un-intrusive act to get Solonn to trust him, perhaps?

Somewhere deep inside, a bitter, smoldering hatred arose at the sight of those red eyes, that kindly face, but Solonn didn’t dare let it out despite being sure that it’d be wonderfully cathartic.

Seems that Solonn has a darker side to him readers didn't know about. Don't we all, though?

“But you needn’t ever eat meat again if you don’t want to. Humans are omnivores, Solonn. They don’t have to feed on the flesh of others. Good news for you, wouldn’t you say?”

Kudos for bringing in something like this, since it's been a problem for Solonn since the beginning of the fic.

“Hmm… I’m afraid you’ve got those on backwards, my boy,” Jal’tai said, wearing an odd expression that only partially succeeded in concealing a hint of amusement.

With a faint sigh, Solonn took the shorts off and put them back on, correctly this time.

Oh, my God. I've been smiling like an idiot for a while about this whole boxer shorts bit. I'm torn between thinking Jal'tai is being a jerk about Solonn's nudity or being glad for Solonn because it might help him relax.

“If you’re not in the mood for music, you could always enjoy what the television has to offer,” the latios said, then demonstrated how to turn the television on.

This scene got me into the mood for music, that's for sure.

As there wasn’t room enough in the closet for Jal’tai to turn around, the latios chose to teleport back into the den. He resumed his tour, ushering Solonn into a spacious bathroom, one that had been designed with various species in mind. There were sinks at three different heights and four different kinds of toilets. The shower was quite large, with multiple spigots of varying shapes and sizes; in addition to the standard one that dispensed water, the others offered bathing options such as “mud”, “sand”, and “acid”, according to a large, yellow label affixed just outside the shower compartment.

I never thought I'd be impressed about worldbuilding regarding bathrooms, but there it is.

Overall, a decently paced transitional chapter. There was a decent balance between Jal'tai explaining things and Solonn making stupid mistakes. Where you'll be going from here, though... I can't say I have a damn clue. :~)

 

[Sike Saner]

@diamondpearl876 Obviously the story's heading toward a full-blown rock opera.

I think I legitimately put more thought into that bathroom than into anything else in Convergence. Bathrooms are hella important.

Also I am unreasonably happy about the pacing comment, since I maintain that that's one of my weakest suits and it's therefore useful to get an idea of where I get it right.

Thanks for the read and reply. :> That was actually one of the harder chapters to write back in the day--glad it's going over well.

 

[Sike Saner]

Chapter 14 – Anywhere but Here​

During Jal’tai’s next visit two days later, Solonn looked at whatever he was shown, did whatever he was told to do, and managed to show no outward signs of resentment or indignation. As soon as the latios left, however, that veneer fell away, leaving behind a bitter, despondent man who mainly just languished through the hours, lacking the spirit to look after himself beyond the bare minimum needed to stay alive. He barely slept, didn’t bathe or groom himself in any way, and didn’t bother watching any more of the latios’s training videos. He ate only when Jal’tai was actually present to make sure that he did.

The self-neglect was beginning to take its toll on Solonn—which didn’t go unnoticed by the latios, as Solonn learned the very next evening on Jal’tai’s third visit.

Jal’tai materialized in the room, and Solonn met his gaze at once from the green armchair. From the moment the dragon appeared, Solonn knew this visit wouldn’t be like the others. The friendly, jovial air the latios had worn before was gone; his face was a hard-lined mask, the expression unreadable.

Lowering his head slightly and folding his arms in front of his chest, Jal’tai brought himself to hover right in front of Solonn. His feathered brows drew together almost as if he were wincing in pain. He held the human’s dark, flat stare for a long moment, then shook his head pityingly.

“Look at you…” the latios said quietly. He moved even closer to Solonn, his gaze burning upon the former glalie’s unshaven face from only a few inches away now. “Solonn,” he said, his tone heavy, “I know you’ve been neglecting yourself and your lessons. This won’t do, my boy. This won’t do at all.”

Though Solonn’s slackened features showed no sign of it, a spark of fear stirred and began swiftly growing deep inside him. Something not quite conscious. Something primal. Jal’tai knew he wasn’t getting what he wanted from his would-be successor, and Solonn feared that he was about to suffer for disappointing the latios—and perhaps this time Jal’tai would just give up on getting what he wanted from Solonn and decide to cut his losses. In silent terror, Solonn awaited the fuchsia blaze in Jal’tai’s eyes and the agony that would follow… but no such things came.

“I told you emphatically that you must find it in yourself to make peace with this life,” Jal’tai said soberly, “for it is something you cannot change. I told you this for a very good reason, Solonn: you can’t live a life that you don’t accept. If you keep on like this, you’ll waste away… I cannot allow that, Solonn. There’s too much at stake. I will not see the future of my city, my mission, simply fade out like this.”

He ascended higher into the air, nearly scraping the ceiling with his wingtips. From this height, he looked all the more imposing; Solonn was all too sure that this would be the end. But still the latios made no move to harm him.

“For the sake of your destiny, as well as that of Convergence and the most noble cause for which it stands, serenity will be instilled in you,” Jal’tai told Solonn firmly. “Fortunately, I’ve come across someone who should be of a tremendous benefit to that end. Her name is Neleng, and you’ll be having your first session with her tonight. She ought to be arriving in less than an hour.

“I dearly hope to see you improve, Solonn. There’s no need for you to make things harder for yourself than you already have.” With those words, Jal’tai left in his usual fashion, vanishing in a burst of golden light.

Solonn’s eyes lingered upon the empty space where Jal’tai had just been, resenting the latios’s ability to simply leave this place in a flash—he wished he could do the same. The way Jal’tai kept flaunting that ability only served to rub Solonn’s nose into the fact that he was stuck here. Solonn wondered if that was part of why Jal’tai always chose to teleport out.

As the minutes passed, Solonn just sat there, doing nothing. He wasn’t really anticipating Neleng’s arrival; he’d been too preoccupied with the fear that he was about to be punished or even killed to pay much attention to what Jal’tai had actually said during his visit.

At length, the computerized voice of the suite announced an incoming arrival. Solonn, expecting it would just be Jal’tai again, was faintly surprised to find someone and something very different there at the transport tile instead: a chimecho. He was a bit confused by the sight until he remembered Jal’tai’s mention of a visitor. It was someone with an “N”-name, as far as he recalled; he couldn’t remember the rest.

The chimecho made her way into the den at once, her tail trailing from beneath her as she drifted through the air. She stopped before Solonn and smiled.

“Good evening,” she greeted him in an airy voice. “My name is Neleng, and I’m here to help clear your mind. Are you ready to begin?”

Solonn didn’t respond, staring at the chimecho with uncertainty. How could he be ready when he didn’t really know what this creature had in store for him?

But Neleng was prepared to proceed regardless of his answer or lack thereof. She beamed at him as brightly as if he’d just agreed with the utmost enthusiasm to whatever she was about to do. “Very well, then,” she said. She rose until the golden suction disc on the top of her head met the ceiling and took hold of it, clinging tightly yet effortlessly.

The chimecho gave a few gentle ripples of her tail as she hung there, smiling serenely down upon Solonn. “Just relax… Float away on a breeze of music…” she said. She began swaying there where she hung, very slowly, very gracefully, and then she began to sing.

She began with only a single voice, but it gradually unfolded into a chorus of many, one voice at a time. Harmonies and countermelodies gracefully intertwined, weaving in and out amongst one another, merging, diverging, and reuniting in cycles.

The music surrounded Solonn, absorbing his thoughts as it seemed to swirl around him. Under the song’s spell, everything else within the scope of his consciousness was washed away. Soon, his world was comprised solely of the swirling currents of melody. Nothing else existed. Nothing else mattered.

He didn’t notice at first when the song finally ended, some twenty minutes later. Once he did, he looked about somewhat dazedly for the source of the music, briefly unable to remember where it had come from. Then the last of the psychic residue that the chimecho’s song had left within his mind cleared… and the swarming miseries that had plagued his mind during the past few days faded with it.

Not that he’d been entirely purged of them; hints of anguish and bitterness lingered, and would continue to do so as long as he remained imprisoned within this body and this suite. But Neleng’s song had tamed those thoughts and feelings, to a degree. They were now organized, in a sense, not perfectly but well enough that they no longer smothered him with their weight.

Solonn looked up at Neleng, who was still hanging there and swaying slightly. She appeared to be slowly emerging from a trance. She did something to me, Solonn reckoned, something psychic… Exactly what she’d done, he couldn’t be sure. He just hoped it hadn’t been anything harmful. It was, after all, Jal’tai who’d sent her.

The chimecho finally went still, sighing softly as her eyes slowly opened. She detached herself from the ceiling, smiling as she descended once more.

“I’ll see you again tomorrow,” she said. “Drift free until then…”

Neleng floated away, and Solonn’s gaze followed her as she went back to the wall between the suite and the hall outside. She brought the end of her tail up to reach the keypad there, folding its prehensile tip and using it to quickly input a sequence of numbers. The tile below her lit up, and she lowered herself onto it without delay. The lens scanned her, and a second later, she was gone in a green flash.

Solonn stared with a twinge of envy at the now lightless tile. Jal’tai had shared the codes with Neleng. He likely had no intentions of sharing them with Solonn anytime soon, or possibly ever. They were only for Jal’tai and those who gladly served him.

What did Jal’tai need with a transporter anyway? If he really wanted to make Solonn feel like he had nowhere else to go, no other choice to make, he could have just left those walls entirely blank. He could have brought in other teleporters to tend to his would-be successor. There was no need for a visible way out at all.

Yet Jal’tai had insisted on installing the transporter—and insisted on using it to get in every time. Why? Why not just teleport in? Teleporting out made sense, Solonn conceded, and not just because Jal’tai made him feel all the more helpless in doing so. It was quicker, it was more convenient, and…

And it kept anyone from seeing which numbers unlocked the tile. But Neleng… she didn’t have that option. She might have pressed those keys as fast as she could, but…

All of a sudden, the way from here seemed almost ridiculously clear. Neleng held the means for him to escape—he just needed to watch her closely whenever she used that transporter. If he could just see what she was doing—an almost painful thrill seized his heart—if he just could memorize the code…

The hope began to fade almost as soon as it had arrived. There remained the matter of what he’d do after he got out. Since he was no longer a glalie and had no way to prove he ever was one, returning to Virc-Dho didn’t seem like an option.

The only other familiar place he had to go was Lilycove… and it occurred to him that if Morgan had been successfully reunited with her other pokémon—or at least one of the psychics among them—one of them could psychically confirm that he was indeed what he claimed to be. If so… at least he could make a new home among some of his friends, even if he could never go back to his original home.

Then something else occurred to him, and it sent a chill straight into his heart. After he made his escape, Jal’tai would be sure to try and find him—and since Solonn had specifically mentioned fleeing from Lilycove, that was one of the places Jal’tai was sure to look.

It was all too easy to picture Jal’tai in the Yorkes’ house, with both Morgan and Eliza lying unconscious before him as he scoured their minds for information that might lead him to Solonn. The thought of them having their minds violated in such a manner was disgusting, and the thought of what might happen if any of Morgan’s other pokémon were there to try and stop Jal’tai sickened him even further. Even if they all fought as a team, there was no guarantee that they could stand against the latios. And resisting him could cost them their lives.

He sighed heavily; it seemed Lilycove was out of the question, too, leaving him to wonder just where he could go.

Anywhere but here will do, Solonn decided finally, resolutely, anywhere he isn’t. Maybe Solonn couldn’t reclaim the life he’d once known. Maybe he’d never see any of his friends and family again. But he at least he could make his life his own again, taking it out of Jal’tai’s talons. He didn’t know what sort of future could possibly lie ahead of him now, but at least now there was a chance that it could be his future, his choice.

With a deep breath, Solonn rose from the chair, shakily but determinedly. He leveled a hard stare at the wall and the keypad separating him from his freedom. Soon, he told himself silently, he would surpass that barrier. Soon, he would take back his life.

* * *​

From the moment he’d come up with his escape plan, Solonn carried on in a very different manner than he’d done in the days prior. He knew and accepted now that he’d have to prepare himself for the life he’d have to forge once he was free—a human life.

So it was that not long after Neleng had left him, he’d sat down and watched one of Jal’tai’s training videos. Though not exactly keen on watching something that Jal’tai had made, he’d determined that he’d just have to bite back his resentment where this was concerned. The videos provided valuable information and demonstrations that he’d need in his new life, and so he’d vowed to watch as many of them as he could before he made a break for it.

He’d also regained the will to take care of himself again, fueled by the hope of impending freedom. He tried to get at least a couple of hours of sleep each night and bothered to feed himself whenever he hungered, knowing that he’d need his strength for his upcoming escape. He’d learned how to prepare a small variety of meals, but still wasn’t quite brave enough to try making anything that required actual cooking—it wouldn’t do for him to burn more food than he ate.

The videos illustrated the importance of good hygiene and dressing well in human society, and Solonn took heed of those lessons. Though his first attempt at a bath resulted in minor scalding, and his first attempt at shaving left his face bleeding in no fewer than six places, he generally did a decent job of keeping himself tidy. He also began fully dressing himself rather than just lounging about in his underwear, knowing from both the videos and his time with the Yorkes that humans generally kept most of themselves covered at all times.

During his visits over the course of these days, Jal’tai noticed the improvements in Solonn’s well-being. As a result, the latios’s demeanor was even livelier than ever, devoid of that stern displeasure—it seemed his would-be successor was finally accepting and growing into the role that had been chosen for him.

Though Solonn’s temperament was definitely improving, Jal’tai still sent Neleng over each night to perform her mindsong therapy. Solonn reckoned that the latios had decided those sessions might as well continue since they seemed to be doing some good. Indeed they were, but not solely in the way the latios had intended. Neleng’s sessions helped keep Solonn’s mind clear, which in turn allowed him to stay focused and determined to achieve his goal of escape.

The chimecho was fulfilling her other role in Solonn’s endeavor nicely, as well. After turning that armchair ever so slightly toward the transporter, he’d been able to watch Neleng punch in the code out of the corner of his eye with relative ease. After the eighth session, eleven days after the morning when he’d first awakened as a human, Solonn was sure that he’d successfully memorized the sequence. He was ready to make his move.

Jal’tai had visited earlier that day, and Neleng had just left an hour or so ago, so Solonn wasn’t expecting either of them anywhere near the suite again anytime soon. If ever there was an optimal time to make a break for it, this was it.

He stood there before the keypad, his breathing shallow as his chest tightened. He raised a trembling, sweating hand to the keys, and one by one, his shaking index finger found each of the code’s eight digits: Seven… three… four… nine… zero… four… six… two…

The next second felt like it would never end. Then that second passed, and to Solonn’s immeasurable relief, the tile below his feet took on that familiar, green glow and the lens scanned him.

The tile gave a bright flash. He felt a tingling sensation over the surface of his skin, and then something rushed him through a brief nonexistence. When he rematerialized, he was on the other side of the wall.

He took in the sight of the hallway stretching to either side, and a giddy sort of disbelief spread through him. A beat later, he dared to believe what the sight before him signified: he had done it. He was out, and now he could finally make his bid for freedom.

In reverse, he replayed the memories of the last time he’d been out here, trying to remember how to get to the exit. It was hard to extract much detail from them; he’d been drugged the last time he’d been outside the suite, which had hampered his perception to no small degree.

Luckily, Jal’tai’s videos had included a segment on operating elevators. Solonn doubted he’d have remembered how to do so otherwise. Before long, he found the elevator for that floor and quickly pushed the button to call it up. When the doors finally opened, he hurried through them without a second’s hesitation.

Solonn chose the lowermost floor, and a breath later, a funny little plummeting sensation in his stomach signified the elevator’s descent. Soon after, it came to a stop and its doors slid open, revealing a view of the spacious lobby—and the exit beyond.

The lobby was relatively quiet at the moment, with no one there except for the swampert receptionist and a solitary primeape off in the corner, the latter half-watching cartoons on a wall-mounted TV. Solonn tried to hide his nervousness as he passed them, not wanting to draw too much attention to himself. As far as those two needed to be concerned, he was just a human being like any other, with no reason why he shouldn’t be in that lobby or heading out those doors.

Without a word, he crossed the room to the exit. Those last doors separating him from the way out of Convergence slid silently out of his way, and he stepped out into a starless, overcast night.

He cast one last look behind him at the towering Convergence Inn, the place where his identity and element had been lost, the place that had been his prison for nearly two weeks. He averted his gaze once more almost immediately, walking away from it at a brisk pace. He never wanted to see that place again.

Solonn had no choice but to stop at the next corner, where cars sped up and down the street in his way. He shivered as he stood there; the silk shirt and simple slacks he’d chosen to wear that day offered little protection against the chilly, late-September wind. Not terribly far away, he managed to identify the dark line of trees that represented the border between Convergence and its surrounding woods—that was his goal. The cars were currently barring his path… but seconds later, the way was clear once more. He took advantage of this at once, crossing the street before the traffic could pick up again.

His eyes locked onto the boundary beyond which the world didn’t belong to Jal’tai—the sooner he reached it, the better. He wanted to make a dash for the trees, but even now, he still wasn’t entirely used to his new legs. He was still wary of running on them.

He shook his head, trying to clear his mind of doubt. If you can walk, you can run, he told himself. Don’t think about it; just do it! Hesitating no longer, he broke into a run with a somewhat awkward start, stumbling over the first step and nearly overcorrecting afterward.

Once Solonn managed to stabilize himself, he silently told himself to keep running until he reached that forest. But he was unused to running for any great distance in any body, and exhaustion came on quite swiftly. Nonetheless, he ignored his body’s demands for rest, his sights and determination fixed upon his goal. He only stopped when another red light and another wave of rushing cars blocked his path.

Solonn gritted his teeth in pain as he waited anxiously for a break in the traffic, the cold, sharp wind tearing through his throat with each harsh, gasping breath. The forest wasn’t much further before him now than the Convergence Inn was behind him; the closer he got to it, the more impatient to reach it he became.

Finally, the path before him was clear and safe again. He hadn’t even finished catching his breath from the last dash, but with such a short way left to go before he could put this city and the latios it belonged to behind him for good, he just couldn’t wait to close that final distance.

Amber sparkles of light streaked past him: rays from the streetlights, distorted by the tears that the stinging wind and a number of other things brought to his eyes as he ran. Shooting pains stabbed into his ribs, and there was a burning ache in his stomach and legs. Still, he tried to keep running, desperate to escape Convergence no matter how it hurt. As far as he was concerned at this point, living free was worth any suffering.

Very nearly at the verge of collapsing, with his steps faltering and his heart hammering so violently that he thought it might explode at any second, Solonn reached Convergence’s limit at last. He was seconds from crossing the boundary—

—And then blazing jets of fire shot forth from either side with a loud fwooossssh and surged up before him. With an almost voiceless cry of alarm and surprise, he backpedaled at once from the burning line of flames in his path, stumbling and falling backwards in his haste. He tried to get back to his feet but failed. Realizing his legs wouldn’t support him again anytime soon after what he’d just forced them to do, he instead started scrabbling backward to escape from the fire, only to be stopped very soon after when he bumped into something.

Throwing a fearful glance over his shoulder, Solonn saw two houndoom, the golden badges affixed to their collars glinting in the light from the flames. Their jaws dripped with glowing embers as they stared him down, and both of them growled ominously.

“Hold it right there,” one of them snarled. “You’re not going anywhere.”

As if to emphasize the point, the blazing line suddenly advanced at either side, forming a burning circle around Solonn and the two houndoom. The flames roared as they danced on all sides, but they didn’t touch him, as if something were holding them at bay.

That something—that someone—seemed to drop right out of the air in front of Solonn in the next moment, landing without a sound. A medicham in a police uniform now stood before him—Solonn had been so focused on the path directly before him that he’d failed to see her perched in the trees up ahead.

Her eyes glowed bright fuchsia; she was using her psychic powers to manipulate the two houndoom’s flames and keep them in check. But Solonn feared that it meant she was about to subject him to the same kind of telekinetic punishment Jal’tai had used. As it was, he couldn’t move at all now, and he was sure his exhaustion wasn’t solely to blame.

The circle of flames simply and abruptly vanished, and the medicham stepped forward. She took hold of Solonn’s arms, and using a combination of her telekinesis and her own physical strength, she brought him back to his feet. Solonn wanted to struggle but found, to no real surprise on his part, that he still couldn’t move of his own accord.

The houndoom stepped aside as the medicham moved to stand behind Solonn. Once there, she took both of his wrists in her hands, gripping them tightly.“Start walking,” she commanded him, her voice soft but her tone unmistakably serious.

Tentatively, not quite daring to believe that the medicham could have loosened her psychic hold on him enough to let him walk, Solonn tried to take a step forward and succeeded. He tried to pull himself out of the medicham’s grasp, but it was much too strong for him to break, especially given how very little strength his dash from the Convergence Inn had left him. Resigned to the fact that there was nothing he could do to resist her, Solonn allowed the medicham to drive him onward, dreading whatever lay at their destination as he walked.

The cops brought him back into town, the medicham telekinetically keeping her captive from collapsing outright. The houndoom nipped at his feet whenever he faltered too much in his steps, their fangs only missing him by a hair. At length, they arrived at a very tall, brick building downtown. A brass sign hung over its entrance, lit from below by bright lights; “CONVERGENCE TOWER”, it read.

The houndoom pushed the doors open, and the medicham shoved Solonn into the building, still holding on to him tightly. She steered him into an elevator, which made a long ascent before letting him and the cops out into a short hallway with massive, wooden doors at its end.

The doors filled Solonn’s vision as his captors came to a stop before them. A speaker mounted in the wall to his left came on with a brief crackle of static, and then the last voice in the world that Solonn wanted to hear at that moment spoke through it.

“Bring him in,” Jal’tai said. The cops responded to the order at once. The two houndoom pushed their way through the doors and held them open as the medicham brought Solonn into the room beyond.

Solonn now stood in an enormous, richly furnished office. Seated before him at a very large and tidy desk was none other than Jal’tai, currently in the guise of Rolf Whitley. He leveled a stare at Solonn that was forbiddingly stern but unmistakably saddened at the same time.

“That’ll do, madam, gentlemen,” Jal’tai said without inflection to the medicham and houndoom, dismissing them. The three cops nodded, and the medicham released both of her holds on Solonn before walking out of the office. The two houndoom followed her away, and the doors swung shut behind them.

Solonn, still drained of most of his strength and no longer supported physically or psychically by the medicham, had dropped to his hands and knees almost immediately after she’d let go of him. He’d remained in that position since, his head hanging toward the hardwood floor. A winged shadow fell over him as soon as the cops were gone, and a second later, a talon descended upon his head, lifting his face.

No longer wearing his human mirage, Jal’tai stared right into Solonn’s eyes with a look of distinct sorrow. “I’m very disappointed in you, my boy,” he said gravely. “I told you not to make things harder for yourself than they had to be, but you just wouldn’t listen…”

The latios sighed heavily, and his eyes began shimmering with tears. “I never wanted it to come to this,” he said, his voice quavering as if threatening to break, “but you’ve left me no choice. I’m afraid that I must now take drastic measures to ensure your cooperation and the preservation of this city’s noble mission…”

 

[diamondpearl876]

During Jal’tai’s next visit two days later, Solonn looked at whatever he was shown, did whatever he was told to do, and managed to show no outward signs of resentment or indignation

I'm sure Solonn had a -blast- trying to be civil. XD

As soon as the latios left, however, that veneer fell away, leaving behind a bitter, despondent man who mainly just languished through the hours, lacking the spirit to look after himself beyond the bare minimum needed to stay alive.

With all the ideas explored here, this could have easily been a complicated, hard to read sentence, but the way you word it is perfect. I also like how you refer to him as a man.

The friendly, jovial air the latios had worn before was gone; his face was a hard-lined mask, the expression unreadable.

HE'S EVIL! RUN AWAY!

I will not see the future of my city, my mission, simply fade out like this.”

Strange that "mission" is italicized instead of future. I wonder if that reinforces my view of Jal'tai being more of an antagonist.

Solonn was all too sure that this would be the end. But still the latios made no move to harm him.[/quote

I wonder if Solonn subconsciously -wants- the end to come at this point. He certainly shows a lot of classic depression symptoms.

The music surrounded Solonn, absorbing his thoughts as it seemed to swirl around him. Under the song’s spell, everything else within the scope of his consciousness was washed away. Soon, his world was comprised solely of the swirling currents of melody. Nothing else existed. Nothing else mattered.

Ah, mindfulness techniques. This could either help or hinder Solonn, really.

From the moment that he’d come up with his escape plan, Solonn carried on in a very different manner than he’d done in the days prior. He knew and accepted now that he’d have to prepare himself for the life that he’d have to forge once he was free—a human life.

With all his contact with psychic-types, I'm surprised he doesn't think that he can find a trustworthy psychic, transform back into a glalie, then return... home. Like, his real home.

Neleng’s sessions helped keep Solonn’s mind clear, which in turn allowed him to stay focused and determined to achieve his goal of escape.

Why doesn't Neleng just read his mind and figure out if her techniques are working or not? That way she'd see Solonn's plan. POSSIBLE PLOT HOLE?

EDIT: Well, he got caught by a psychic anyway. Go figure.

The latios sighed heavily, and his eyes began shimmering with tears. “I never wanted it to come to this,” he said, his voice quavering as if threatening to break, “but you’ve left me no choice. I’m afraid that I must now take drastic measures to ensure your cooperation and the preservation of this city’s noble mission…”

This can't be good.

Overall a good chapter with solid description. The emotional tension was present in the first half of the chapter, but in the second I felt less tension, which wasn't ideal since, well, it was an escape scene. You also like to repeat yourself about the whole "Solonn doesn't want to give up his life idea," which doesn't seem obvious unless you're reading carefully, since each instance is worded differently. I would cut down on that and focus on more emotional aspects if you can.

 

[Sike Saner]

@diamondpearl876 Re: chimecho! I think I always saw them as more along the lines of empaths than straight-up thought-readers, far as their psychic perception goes. Able to feel, as a vague sort of echo, if their powers are actually effecting any change in the subject. That's something that's always interested me: how different pokémon of the same type might have their element manifest in different ways--an alakazam can do this, a wobbuffet can do that, et cetera.

Anyway! This and the rest of the chapters are due another readthrough at some point; I've got another fic in this series in the works. That'll be a good opportunity to hunt for excessive repetition, as well as any additional stage-shittings.

Thanks for dropping by again!

 

[diamondpearl876]

@diamondpearl876 Re: chimecho! I think I always saw them as more along the lines of empaths than straight-up thought-readers, far as their psychic perception goes. Able to feel, as a vague sort of echo, if their powers are actually effecting any change in the subject. That's something that's always interested me: how different pokémon of the same type might have their element manifest in different ways--an alakazam can do this, a wobbuffet can do that, et cetera.

Anyway! This and the rest of the chapters are due another readthrough at some point; I've got another fic in this series in the works. That'll be a good opportunity to hunt for excessive repetition, as well as any additional stage-shittings.

Thanks for dropping by again!

No problem. You might want to mention the psychic-type's differences somewhere in the fic. I could easily see other readers assuming what I did.

I suppose I should ask - is The Origin of Storms part of this series?

 

[Sike Saner]

@diamondpearl876 It is! :> Most of this story takes place before it. TOoS is focused on different characters and a much narrower timeframe, though, so there's no particular order for reading them.

 

[Sike Saner]

Chapter 15 – Deceiving Yesterday​

Taloned arms lowered, embracing Solonn and lifting him up off the floor. Grave, red eyes held his gaze. Solonn immediately wanted Jal’tai to let him go, but he simply lacked the strength to do anything more than shudder in the latios’s arms. Part of him wanted to scream, but he didn’t have that in him, either. All he could manage was a continuous stream of nearly voiceless protests, wordless save for an occasionally discernible “no”.

Jal’tai held him there against his chest for a long moment, drawing a deep breath as his somber stare continued to weigh upon Solonn’s face. He could hardly stand the way Solonn was looking back at him. Hopelessness and terror were etched into every line of the human’s face, an expression befitting cornered prey.

It didn’t have to be like this, the latios lamented silently. Everything could have been so much easier, but you just wouldn’t let yourself see the way… and now…

Jal’tai sighed, resigned with no small measure of regret to the course of action he was about to take. He envisioned himself and Solonn in another location, a place that lay hidden below that very tower, and focused his mind sharply on that image. Then he cast out a tendril of his psychic power and projected it into that destination. A fraction of a second later, the psychic force reeled them in, and with a burst of golden light, the two of them teleported out of the office.

An instant later, that light drained from Solonn’s vision, revealing his new surroundings. The room he and Jal’tai now occupied was just large enough to allow the rigid-winged latios to move about comfortably. It was dimly lit by a single lamp mounted overhead, which cast a soft, rose-colored glow over the room.

Solonn saw little more of this place than what could be viewed over Jal’tai’s shoulder, and most of what he could see was dominated by a large marble panel, on which an image of a latias stood out in relief. She was hovering in place, her arms outstretched, with a benevolent smile curving across her face. Her feathers were accented with inlaid gold, making her shine in the warm, gentle lighting.

Below the panel sat several elaborately carved, earthen pots containing delicate-looking, fluffy white flowers. The pots surrounded a tiny, shallow pool, at whose center a small fountain continually flowed with a soft murmuring.

In a detached way, Solonn wondered about the enshrined latias and what sort of a place this could be to contain such a thing. Not knowing made it hard to guess what Jal’tai could have in store for him here. But he was sure that whatever awaited him, it wouldn’t be good.

He let his head loll backwards over Jal’tai’s arm to see what lay at the other end of the room. He was greeted by a very different sight: no shrines, no flowers, no portraits. There was only a metal table, unremarkable and featureless save for a series of slots arranged in symmetrical patterns all the way down its length.

Solonn got a chilling sense that the table would be involved in whatever punishment Jal’tai intended for him. He swallowed hard as he stared at it, already imagining how he might suffer there.

Jal’tai let go of him, but Solonn didn’t hit the floor. There was no question why; he could see the fuchsia light in Jal’tai’s eyes. The latios lifted him a little higher into the air, then began guiding him backward—toward that table. It seemed Solonn’s suspicions about it had been right on the mark.

He felt the cold, hard metal through his shirt as he was laid down on the table, the chill quickly seeping into his already aching bones. His limbs moved against his will as Jal’tai telekinetically repositioned them between pairs of those slots. The next second, metal bands suddenly erupted from the slots and shackled his arms, legs, and waist to the table.

Slowly, Jal’tai moved toward Solonn. The light faded from his eyes as he came to a stop directly above his captive—and then a blaze of another kind awakened in its place, the exact nature of which Solonn feared to guess. But it was gone just as soon as Solonn had noticed it, leaving him wondering if he hadn’t just imagined it.

The latios closed his eyes. He took a long, steadying breath, clasping his talons as if in prayer. “I had dearly hoped it wouldn’t come to this,” he said, his voice sounding very heavy despite being barely more than whispered. “I’d hoped you would see things clearly and understand what’s needed of you… I wanted to believe you would…”

His eyes opened and met Solonn’s gaze, weariness and disappointment written all over his face. “But I knew better, really,” he said with very little inflection, “even from the very start—hence the need for our little experiment tonight.”

Before Solonn could guess what Jal’tai was referring to, the latios continued. “The events of this night were the final stage of this experiment, which was designed to test your willingness to serve our cause. On the night I transfigured you, I injected a small transmitter under your skin. I instructed Neleng to obliquely allow you to learn the exit code from her, and the police were told to keep an eye on your transmitter’s signal and to apprehend you and bring you to me if you attempted to leave Convergence.”

An immediate sinking feeling struck deep into Solonn’s chest, while his extremities went numb with shock. “…You set this up?” he asked hoarsely. He didn’t want to believe it. Gods knew he didn’t. But in hindsight… of course it was all a ruse. “You—” He paused momentarily, swallowing in a futile attempt to relieve his parched throat. “—you let me run away?”

Jal’tai nodded slowly, sorrowfully. “I had to know if you would.”

The disbelief in Solonn’s features turned to outrage. He looked right into Jal’tai’s face with an unflinching, accusatory stare, a steady stream of tears running from his bloodshot eyes. “Of course I would!” he croaked, his voice cracking painfully. “Of course I would, after what you did to me!”

Jal’tai gave a soft, troubled sound as he turned away from the human. He hovered there in place for several moments on end, staring at the shining image of the latias who smiled back at him from across the room. Then he lowered his head, and a beat later, he abruptly turned back toward Solonn.

Though he knew it was useless to try, Solonn couldn’t help but struggle in his restraints as Jal’tai drew close once more. Within a breath, Jal’tai was hovering over him again, and burning brightly within the latios’s eyes…

No, Solonn hadn’t imagined the strange light that he’d seen there before. There it was again, but now that it lingered, more of its peculiar qualities presented themselves. It pulsed and swirled arrhythmically, constantly shifting its color and intensity. Solonn wanted to look away, but neither his head nor his eyes would obey him.

The light and color expanded outward from Jal’tai’s eyes in a sudden burst, spreading over the rest of his body and then washing over the entire room. The latios himself was reduced to a vague outline; if it hadn’t been for his slight motion in midair as he breathed, Solonn would have easily lost sight of him.

Sudden, sharp pain lanced into Solonn’s eyes as the surrounding light intensified sharply. He cried out and kept trying to close them, to no avail. He could only scream on as they watered and burned, until finally his voice gave out.

The dancing colors sped up dramatically, rushing in every direction around Solonn. In their frenzy, a powerful noise arose: a painfully intense, discordant chorus of screeches and roars. In the next second, Solonn swore he could taste and smell the chaos, as well; its scent and flavor were extremely sharp and sour, burning his throat as he inhaled, making him cough and gag.

All at once, the phenomenon was assaulting every part of him at once. With every passing second, the punishment of his every sense grew stronger. Throttled by the grip of a full sensory overload, Solonn begged the gods for it to stop. He wished dearly that he’d just pass out.

The outline of the latios above suddenly became much more distinct, and the change took an immediate and absolute hold of Solonn’s attention even in the midst of the surrounding chaos. <Be at peace,> said a telepathic voice that mirrored Jal’tai’s spoken voice, clear as a bell despite the din.

Then the light, the noise, and all of the pain simply ceased.

* * *​

There was a delay before Solonn dared to recognize that the bizarre torture had finally ended. Once he did, he became aware of his surroundings—or rather, the lack thereof. He could see nothing, hear nothing, taste nothing, smell nothing, feel nothing. There was simply nothing around him to be perceived. He couldn’t even perceive anything of himself other than his own awareness.

He was instantly reminded of the great ball, and he began to wonder if he’d been sent into something along those lines. Was this was part of his punishment? Would Jal’tai keep him imprisoned here, perhaps only letting him out to inflict more of that multisensory torture upon him, until he was so severely traumatized that he’d accept anything?

In a literal flash, his solitude was broken. A shapeless, luminous body shone like a star within the darkness that surrounded him, impossible light in a world without vision. Just as suddenly as it had appeared, it took on a familiar form.

Jal’tai now hovered there in the emptiness before him, glowing brilliantly, a latios made out of pure, white light. Only the dragon’s eyes were lightless, two fathomless, pitch-black holes in his luminous face.

He spoke to Solonn telepathically, but in a mindvoice that was different than before, one as vast as the void that surrounded him. <No, Solonn. That is not what I’ve done to you, nor is it what I intend to do.>

The sheer immensity of the psychic voice stoked Solonn’s fear to new heights. He acknowledged Jal’tai’s words, but he was too overwhelmed by them to respond.

<I won’t let any further harm come to you,> Jal’tai said somberly. <I know you’d never be able to forgive me for all that you’ve suffered to this point… and I wouldn’t expect you to,> he added. <I doubt I’ll ever be able to forgive myself… and if She won’t, either, I would understand…>

The glowing latios extended his arms. Solonn felt Jal’tai’s embrace despite having nothing of himself with which to actually, physically feel anything, just as he’d seen and heard Jal’tai without eyes and ears.

<Your suffering ends here,> Jal’tai tried to assure him. <I will now ensure that you will struggle no more.>

What are you going to do to me? Solonn asked fearfully. He had no voice in this place, but he also had no doubt at this point that Jal’tai could hear his thoughts.

<I could tell you,> Jal’tai replied, <but you wouldn’t remember.>

With that, the black holes that were the latios’s eyes gave a single, massive flash of light that was even brighter than the rest of him, and Solonn knew no more.

* * *​

A gasp rent the air as lungs that had been suspended in stasis for nearly five minutes suddenly resumed their duties. Their owner’s head sank as he took several moments to catch his breath. His spine arched and his talons flexed, awakening his muscles somewhat painfully.

With something of an effort, Jal’tai made himself look upon Solonn’s face. The human stared back through blank, dilated eyes that held a faint, silvery glow. He was still alive, but suspended in a peculiar state between consciousness and unconsciousness. His mind was subdued and encapsulated within a psychic prison, barred from access to his own brain. The lati had a name for this state: liasa andielenne. The waking death.

Entering it was invariably horrific for the subject, and Jal’tai regretted this to no small degree. But he knew it was crucial for what he was about to do. There was work to be done within this human’s brain, and said human couldn’t be there to witness or interfere with the task at hand.

Still, even with the necessary preparations made, Jal’tai worried for the outcome of this procedure. Major, intrusive psychic methods such as the one he was about to employ had a significant risk of detrimental side effects, especially in brains with no sort of defense against the psychic element. Of particular concern to Jal’tai was the fact that they could corrupt or even destroy psychic anomalies in the brain—anomalies such as the Speech.

Hence Jal’tai had been severely reluctant to resort to this course of action—it had every bit as much potential to ruin his candidate as it had to secure him, if not more. Nevertheless, the latios committed himself to this act, convinced that there truly was no better option. The odds were overwhelmingly against finding yet another Speaker anytime soon; Jal’tai didn’t know how long he had in this world to wait. And he knew that he’d rest much more easily once he could be sure Convergence’s future was secured.

Jal’tai cast an imploring glance over his shoulder at the marble panel behind him. Please watch over him, Rei’eli, he prayed silently to the image of the goddess that smiled at him from the far end of the room. Keep his gift whole.

He turned back toward Solonn, his heart heavy with concern. He placed his talons upon the human’s head, staring intently into his subject’s empty eyes. His breathing slowed dramatically as his focus deepened, stoking his psychic element and manifesting it into a vehicle for his consciousness. As it carried him out of his own head and into Solonn’s, he dearly hoped his goddess had heard his prayer.

* * *​

Haze enveloped the intruder, hanging calmly over the surrounding mindscape. It was a thick and very murky medium, one that would have offered up no distinction among its constituent elements to less sophisticated senses, and would have threatened to erase the lines between itself and a less capable invader.

But the haze wouldn’t absorb Jal’tai, nor would it keep any secrets from him. He could readily make out the individual memories that formed it, as well as the intricate ways they were connected. The task was made all the easier by liasa andielenne; the haze would have been roiling turbulently in an active mind, making it harder to see what lay within it. It also helped that he’d been here before.

Within these memories was the key to the human’s cooperation—answers to why it hadn’t been achieved and how it could be. Jal’tai began to sift through the haze, searching for images of that overgrown field and the guise of the swellow he’d worn there twelve days prior. They looked considerably different from his own memories of the place, recorded through very different eyes, but there was no mistaking them.

Having found the starting point for the relevant chain of memories, he proceeded to anchor his psychic power to it. Then he let the memories play within his mind, unfolding in chronological order at an incredible speed as he copied them all. Almost as soon as it had begun, the process was finished. In barely more than an instant, Jal’tai had obtained twelve days’ worth of memories that were not his own.

Now he had to deal with the original copies. There were two options where that was concerned. One was to simply erase them. The other was to keep them intact but heavily suppressed, locking them away deep within Solonn’s subconscious mind.

Erasure was the more alluring option, not to mention more comforting. But it required a much more intrusive procedure than merely sealing the memories would. Even doing as much as he’d already done was pushing it, endangering the very thing he’d gone to these lengths for. He didn’t want to take the added risk unless it was truly necessary.

Unwilling to decide on the matter too quickly, even now, Jal’tai replayed his own copies again, more slowly this time. He saw himself, disguised as a swellow, leading Solonn through the woods and into Convergence. He experienced Solonn’s first morning as a human, vicariously feeling his fearful disbelief at his new form and his bereavement at the loss of his element. He watched himself reveal his own true form, listened to his own attempts to make Solonn listen to reason, and watched—and felt—the excruciating, telekinetic punishment he’d inflicted upon the human when his failure to convince Solonn through words had burned through his patience…

…And here he paused, bringing the playback to a grinding halt. Suddenly confronted with the suffering his frustration had caused, made to actually feel the pain and terror he’d inflicted, he found himself overwhelmed by horror, guilt, and shame. What in heaven’s name came over me? he wondered, aghast. By the Goddess… I could have killed him…

Long moments passed before he regained himself enough to continue his work. Even then, he remained shaken by the reminder of what he’d done as he resumed studying the former glalie’s recent memories, watching as Solonn dragged himself listlessly through his first few days as a human and then began planning an escape in the next, with the chain of memories ending with Solonn’s foiled escape and his subjection to liasa andielenne.

Jal’tai went back to contemplating his next actions, and for quite a while longer than he’d intended. Realizing just how close he’d already come to losing Solonn as a candidate, he was now especially disinclined to tempt fate any more than he could help. And yet… thoughts of that day when he’d lost control still haunted his mind. And if the human were to somehow recall it, it was sure to destroy any trust Jal’tai could instill in him.

Finally… finally, Jal’tai made his decision. He isolated the memories of the past twelve days from the rest of the haze. Then he set a psychic lock upon them and relocated them to the deepest, most inaccessible layer of the human’s mind—but not before extracting one particular memory from the chain and annihilating it.

The offending history was now suppressed, but Jal’tai’s work wasn’t finished yet. As he withdrew from Solonn’s mindscape to initiate the next step of the process, he tried to draw some relief and satisfaction from the fact that at least now Solonn would no longer recall his brutal punishment. But his efforts were hampered by the knowledge that he couldn’t purge that memory from his own mind.

* * *​

With his consciousness having returned to the physical plane, Jal’tai once again beheld the motionless human before him. Solonn still wore the same blank, emotionless, lifeless expression he’d been wearing ever since he’d entered liasa andielenne.

At least he’s not suffering anymore, the latios thought wearily as he set himself down on the floor for a short break. Sustaining his presence within a foreign mind for extended periods of time was fairly taxing, especially at his age. He rested his head in his talons as he prepared to create a different version of events to replace the memories he’d just sealed away.

Jal’tai still saw promise in Solonn despite the obstacles that had arisen in trying to get the human to recognize his potential. He was quite certain Solonn was capable of appreciating the Convergence Project’s mission and thus might have accepted his new role under different circumstances. He still felt that no other course of action but the one he’d taken could’ve securely succeeded, that it had been the only way to be sure Solonn would take that form. What was done was done, and because Solonn had reacted so adversely to the way it was done, the next step was to make the human believe that things had been done differently.

Jal’tai entered a trance in which he began fabricating an alternative version of the past twelve days. If all went well, this rewrite of history would turn Solonn into the ready and willing successor the latios so dearly hoped for.

 

[diamondpearl876]

It didn’t have to be like this, the latios lamented silently. Everything could have been so much easier, but you just wouldn’t let yourself see the way… and now…

Is he hugging Solonn right before hurting the hell out of him? Damnit. You're killing me.

Solonn saw little more of this place than what could be viewed over Jal’tai’s shoulder, and most of what he could see was dominated by a large marble panel, on which an image of a latias stood out in relief. She was hovering in place, her arms outstretched, with a benevolent smile curving across her face. Her feathers were accented with inlaid gold, making her shine in the warm, gentle lighting.

Below the panel sat several elaborately carved, earthen pots containing delicate-looking, fluffy white flowers. The pots surrounded a tiny, shallow pool, at whose center a small fountain continually flowed with a soft murmuring.

I love this description. So serene when the situation is anything BUT serene!

There was no question why; he could the fuchsia light in Jal’tai’s eyes.

HE COULD WHAT

He wished dearly that he’d just pass out.

"Dearly" is something Jal'tai would say, which makes this scene all the more heartbreaking.

Would Jal’tai keep him imprisoned here, perhaps only letting him out to inflict more of that multisensory torture upon him, until he was so severely traumatized that he’d accept anything?

Multisensory torture to sensory deprivation? Oh, shit.

The lati had a name for this state: liasa andielenne. The waking death.

Your fic has suddenly just taken on almost every single theme I have planned for Survival Project's sequel. AHHHH

Hence Jal’tai had been severely reluctant to resort to this course of action—it had every bit as much potential to ruin his candidate as it had to secure him, if not more. Nevertheless, the latios committed himself to this act, convinced that there truly was no better option. The odds were overwhelmingly against finding yet another Speaker anytime soon; Jal’tai didn’t know how long he had in this world to wait. And he knew that he’d rest much more easily once he could be sure Convergence’s future was secured.

The tone in this section is very detached. Very appropriate for what's going on, I think.

Jal’tai cast an imploring glance over his shoulder at the marble panel behind him. Please watch over him, Rei’eli, he prayed silently to the image of the goddess that smiled at him from the far end of the room. Keep his gift whole.

Okay, I'm done. I'm sold. Jal'tai for best antagonist 2015

The offending history was now suppressed, but Jal’tai’s work wasn’t finished yet. As he withdrew from Solonn’s mindscape to initiate the next step of the process, he tried to draw some relief and satisfaction from the fact that at least now Solonn would recall his brutal punishment. But his efforts were hampered by the knowledge that he couldn’t purge that memory from his own mind.

DONE AND SOLD X2

Jal’tai entered a trance in which he began to fabricate an alternative version of the past twelve days. If all went well, this rewrite of history would turn Solonn into the ready and willing successor for which the latios so dearly hoped.

"if all went well" being the key phrase here...

 

[Sike Saner]

@diamondpearl876 He could. He could. That's how dire his situation had become. He no longer had the power to perform actual actions.

Yeah idk what happened to that verb either. XD I'll tend to it here shortly.

Glad ya like Jal'tai. He's one of my favorites, too. That type of character is just so much fun to write, like damn.

Thanks for dropping by once more! :>