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TEEN: Crossed Wires

ZephyrSpecs

Pocket Professor Elliot
Joined
Dec 16, 2018
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Author's Note: This is the first time in a while I've tried to write fanfic, and my past attempts were not nearly as inspired. The universe I'm creating here is extremely idiosyncratic to me as a person, and therefore probably will come off as a little bizarre. My friend described it partially as "G-rated Parasyte (the anime)". Hopefully, you find it as interesting as I do.

Rating Information: This fic in general is rated Teen. It will contain depictions of psychological abuse/manipulation and neglect, severe mental illness, and will contain references to self-harm and suicide (not glamorized); individual chapters will be rated Mature if appropriate and all chapters will be tagged accordingly. Mild to moderate violence and strong language (excluding slurs) may be used. Substances might be involved in the future, will also be tagged accordingly.



1. Casteliacone

A weary-eyed man was sitting on a teal chair in the waiting area. Beside him was a suitcase, still bearing its tags from his flight from the remote Holon region to Castelia City, Unova, to visit his son.

“That will have to stay here,” said a young woman behind a desk. “I’ll watch it for you.”

The man nodded. “Sure. When can I go in?”

“Dr. Howen should be here any minute—” she paused, and looked over her shoulder. “Oh, he’s here now.”

The door beside the desk swung open and a man with graying steel-blue hair stood in its entranceway. The weary-eyed man stood. “Dr. Quarters,” greeted Dr. Howen. “Haiku’s surgery went very well. Rotom is fully integrated.”

“I spoke to Haiku on the phone before my flight,” said Dr. Quarters. “How is his condition?”

“So far it’s hard to tell,” said Dr. Howen, gently. “We won’t know the results of the treatment for several months.”

Dr. Quarters nodded. “Can I bring this inside? It was his birthday last week.” He held up a small white box made of thin cardboard and opened it up to reveal a blue-hued cupcake decorated like a casteliacone. A tiny white candle was placed on the top.

“Yes, but no candle lighting. Here, come inside.”

They walked through a narrow corridor and through another door, which Dr. Howen unlocked with a badge hanging at his waist. Then they entered into a larger space, which had teal couches sitting upon white tile floors, arranged in a vague horseshoe pattern around a TV, which was placed high on the wall. The couches looked distinctly uncomfortable. There was an air of sterility.

On one of the couches sat a boy, recently turned eleven years old, with lime green spiky hair and thick glasses. His knees were drawn to his chest. They were covered with bandages arranged over cuts and scrapes. A blue patient wristband was attached to the boy’s wrist.

“Hey, Haiku!” said Dr. Quarters. “How are you feeling?”

“Hey dad,” replied Haiku somewhat glumly.

Dr. Quarters showed his son the white box. “I brought you a casteliacone cupcake! For your birthday!”

That was last week, thought Haiku, and he said nothing.

Inside Haiku’s brain, a tiny light flickered. Words entered into the boy’s mind forcefully, yet smoothly: Your dad came a long way to see you, didn’t he?

Quiet,
Haiku thought back, his eyebrows converging slightly with the effort of projecting his thoughts back to the Rotom in his brain. It was like throwing a ball – too little force and it wouldn’t connect, too much and it would refract off the wall and hit him in the face. When he thought back too hard, it would create interference, a harsh static hiss in his thoughts.

Finally, Haiku replied, “Thanks.” Then he turned and eyed Dr. Howen, peering through his spectacles at the name badge, though he knew the doctor’s name. That badge was the key in and out. If only I had one. “Dr. Howen,” he said, “Are you from the Hoenn region?”

“Unfortunately not,” said Dr. Howen. “I’m from Kanto.”

Haiku frowned. “I want to go back to Holon.”

You’ll go back to Holon someday!

“Holon is a very dangerous region,” said Dr. Quarters, rubbing his eyes. “It’s mostly wild, and delta Pokémon are stronger than normal Pokémon. You’re not ready to go off on your own in Holon. You’ll do better here in Unova. I grew up here, you know. And your grandma and grandpa can take care of you while you recover. Then, you can get to know Pokémon.”

“I already know one,” Haiku grumbled.

We’ll be friends, and we’ll go on adventures!

“You’ll get to know another as soon as you’re ready to leave the hospital,” said Dr. Quarters, smiling as he knew the surprise that awaited his son.

Haiku’s green eyes flashed with curiosity behind his glasses. “You’re giving me a Pokémon? What kind? Is it a delta Pokémon?”

The father’s smile faltered for a moment. “It’s not a delta Pokémon, no,” he said. “But it’s your favorite type!”

Haiku frowned. He knew the Pokémon his father was referring to was a ghost type. But ever since they put Rotom in his head, he wasn’t sure he wanted ghost types to be his favorite anymore. I used to think Rotom were so cool. I even wanted one – at first.

You’ll get used to working together,
Rotom replied, cheerfully.

“That Pokémon will be waiting for you at your grandparents’ house,” said Dr. Quarters. “They’ll come to the hospital and take you back to Accumula Town as soon as you’re ready to leave.”

“When will that be?”

Dr. Howen interjected. “It won’t be for a little while,” he said. “We have to make sure you and Rotom are safe together.”

Haiku sighed and silently sunk back into the teal couch, placing the casteliacone cupcake aside. He’d already been in the hospital for a month. He dreaded the thought of staying another.


2. Strange House

Reversal Mountain’s reddish stone face was orange-pink in the sun’s setting glow. The young man (now 17 years old) stood at its base, facing an old house. The house was made of orange and gold tiles, arranged like small square bricks; yet, something about it seemed… old, and faded in the sun. Its wooden doors were tied shut with a tired length of rope. Haiku easily removed the rope and the doors creaked open, sunset cracking into the darkness within the house.

Something strange in here, thought Haiku. I feel it.

I feel it too,
replied Rotom.

Haiku quickly scanned the ground for any items that may have been abandoned in the dark house, which was lit only by a small golden glow coming through the curtains over the windows. He wanted to get out of here as soon as he found what he was looking for.

There’s a Full Heal to your left, Rotom indicated, and a pulsing red arrow appeared superimposed on Haiku’s vision – leading his gaze to the location of a Full Heal stashed under a desk. He grabbed it.

Suddenly, he heard the heavy groan of moving furniture behind him. Haiku froze. Ghost Pokémon? He turned his head to look over his shoulder slowly, not making any sudden movements.

No Pokémon, said Rotom. But there is someone with us. I’m a ghost type, too!

Someone with us?
Haiku questioned. He eyed a couch wobbling in the corner of the room as if supernatural energy were trying to move it.

Then, there was a young girl’s voice. “You,” she said. “You’re different than the others.”

“Me? How so?” Haiku’s hand instinctively retreated to his waist, where five Poké Balls were attached to his belt.

“You’re like… half and half,” the girl said. She slowly faded into view – a girl, maybe ten or eleven years old, with long brown hair and very dark circles under her eyes, floating a few inches above the ground. “Half human, half ghost. Who are you?”

“I’m Haiku. I’m fused with a Rotom who lives in a device in my brain.”

“It’s not just Rotom,” said the girl. “A part of you has become a ghost as well.”

Haiku frowned, running a hand through his lime green hair (while his other hand rested by his belt). He didn’t know what the ghost girl meant by that, exactly, but he felt there was a truth to that statement – a part of him that had existed before the surgery was no longer there, but existed just as traces of its once existence, like a ghost.

“There’s something I’m looking for,” he said. “An item you might have in the house somewhere. Have you seen a Dusk Stone lying around?”

The girl nodded, and a couch blocking a doorway moved aside to allow passage. Then the girl faded away.

Down there, thought Haiku as he descended the staircase into the dark room. He stopped and held out a Poké Ball, and without being commanded a white light burst forth from the Poké Ball and took the shape of a lantern, which materialized into a black lamp-like Pokémon with glowing yellow eyes visible within a purple flame. Lampent’s blueish glow illuminated the dark room.

Found it! said Rotom, displaying the red arrows that led Haiku’s gaze to a corner where a purple stone was waiting on the ground.

Haiku picked up the Dusk Stone, turned it over in his hand, and examined it by Lampent’s light: at its edges it was purple and slightly translucent, but the center of the stone was black and completely opaque, trapping all light – it was like gazing into a black hole in the form of a stone. Its surface was smooth, polished, cool to the touch.

The young man smiled. He’d been looking forward to this moment since the day he left on his Pokémon journey – on his 13th birthday, two years delayed – over five years ago. His first Pokémon, a Litwick, had been indispensable on his journey so far. Now he could bring out his Pokémon’s full potential.

Haiku looked to his Lampent. “Ready, Hito?”

Hito made a ghostly sound of approval, not unlike the sound of leaves rustling in the wind on an October night.

The trainer held up the Dusk Stone to Hito. As the object grew near, Hito started to glow with blue light; by the time the stone touched his body, the blue light had enveloped his form and his shape began to change, twisting and expanding like filling a mold with molten glass. Then, the glow began to dissipate as the glass-like energy cooled and solidified into its new shape.

Chandelure has been registered to your Pokédex, Rotom informed.

“How do you feel?” asked Haiku. “You’re finally a Chandelure.”

Hito spun around in a circle and made a sound not unlike a faint glass chime. It sounded proud.

Now, thought Haiku, I wonder what that girl meant by half ghost? I’m pretty sure I’m alive. He thought of projecting that thought so Rotom could hear it, but decided against it. Whatever was going on, he wanted to understand it on his own terms.
 
C1
- Ooo Holon shoutouts. Always nice to see the more obscure regions get some representation.
- These doctors have some funny names that make me think of old anime.
- That is a bad name / A son who is named Haiku / Other kids tease him
- A nightmare come true. As if the Rotomdex wasn't enough. Imagine living with one in your head, no way to turn it off. Dreadful.
- Mot capitalizing Delta in Delta Pokemon? Okay. Also I thought they were just regional variants before they existed in the games, just without the fancy new designs? Guess not in your fic
- Ghost starter huh? Fancy.

C2
- Oh, timeskip. That's...a little disappointing, I'll admit. But we'll see where it goes.
- Neat seeing that mindrotom has an actual augmented reality effect for Haiku.
- I swear though if he meets someone called Limerick, I'd laugh and shake my smh.
- Makes sense that he wouldn't leave on a journey tight after recovering even with a Pokemon. Kind of insane it took this long to get a Dusk Stone. Super rare in your world?
- You'd think given his wanting to go back to Holon this would pick back up in Holon, but I guess sometimes you just gotta have a Dusk Stone. How'd he even know where to look for this, though?

No idea what Parasyte is, though chuckle a bit at this fic being rated PG-13 when your friend claimed it to be G-rated. Am not hating what I'm reading so far though. If you're trying to create a somewhat bizarre universe, you're doing a decent job of it so far. Will be paying attention to this one.
 
3. Newmoon

The courtyard in the center of the hospital was where children were allowed to play outside for an hour every day. It was surrounded on all four sides by the walls of the hospital, and at its center stood a tall, old tree, sprawling into the sky. During the day the tree seemed like a beacon of hope; at night, it seemed more like an ominous, foreboding figure standing over the horizon. Haiku saw many stars, but he saw no moon in the sky.

He walked around the old tree as if it were a practiced ritual dance – once around, twice. He was alone in the courtyard. There were no doctors or nurses or other patients. It was just him and the tree.

Suddenly, a strike of lightning flashed across the sky. Thunder roared. It began to rain. Haiku ran to the door leading inside, but it was locked. Of course, the doors are always locked. He knocked on the door as hard as he could muster. His clothes were getting soaked and he was cold from the pouring rain.

He reached to his waist for a Poké Ball, but then he realized that he was in the hospital, and he didn’t have any Pokémon yet. Except…

Lightning cracked through the night sky again. Haiku turned to face the tree. Standing in between him and the tree was the girl – in the moment, he couldn’t remember where he recognized her from, but he’d seen her recently – the girl with long brown hair and very dark circles under her eyes.

“I died when I was your age,” she said.

“I’m 17,” replied Haiku, by instinct. Yet, at the moment, he was not.

“It was like falling into a dream. It was like this, at first. Then everything around me got darker and darker. It was like reality was tearing apart at the seams. Darkness was creeping in through the tears, and I saw strange, terrible things.”

“I’ve seen strange and terrible things,” said Haiku. “I’d rather not see them again.”

“What makes us alike?” wondered the girl. “You’ve lost someone close to you, haven’t you?”

Haiku had no answer. Another bright flash, and then he was standing inside, in the room with the TV. It was turned to static. He was alone.

Rotom’s voice echoed in his mind. I’m here. I’m always here.

I’ll get you out of my head,
Haiku thought back. As he did so, a splitting pain struck him in his right temple. His hand traveled there and felt flesh tearing open, and he dug his fingers inside the wound as if he could grab Rotom from within his brain and throw it out.

Behind him, the heavy, locked door slammed shut. Footsteps. Haiku turned around, but as he did so, he woke up – covered in cold sweat, shaking under a thin cotton blanket in a hotel room.

Rotom’s voice again. Bad dreams?

Haiku sighed, letting reality permeate him. The stillness of the hotel room flooded his overwhelmed senses. The hospital again, he said, although it was different this time. That girl – the girl from the Strange House where I got the Dusk Stone.

She was in your dream?


The young man slowly got to his feet and started rummaging through his backpack. He pulled out a spiral-bound notebook and a worn field guide to the Unova region. Both books were covered with handwritten annotations scrawled in margins.

He turned the field guide to its page on the Strange House. It noted that the house was reported to be haunted. Then he cross-referenced his notes in the notebook; his research (collected by reading found documents and interviewing people around the region) indicated that Dusk Stones were likely to appear there, especially on nights of the new moon.

There was also a note about the girl who appeared in the house – a similar girl sometimes appeared at the Marvelous Bridge. Nobody knew if it was the same girl, but the descriptions were closely matched.

“Let’s go there,” he said aloud (knowing Rotom could hear him). “I want to talk to her again.”

Why not go back to the Strange House? You’re sure to find her there, aren’t you?

“Ghosts like her are just imprints left on the world of the living after death,” Haiku explained. “They have a limited number of responses. If I want a different interaction, I have to meet her in a different place.”

Be careful, said Rotom. You should rest. Especially if you’re going to back to Holon soon.

Haiku nodded. Despise it (and Rotom’s ceaseless advice) as he may, he knew from experience that his condition would resurface in an ugly way if he didn’t sleep. He got into bed and stared at the ceiling with a feeling of great unease. Sleep, while essential, could also be elusive.
 
C3
- What is he doing, besides messing around doing a ritual dance around the tree? What's his motivation?
- What was he even doing out here anyway? How'd he get out, and why did no one see him out there as they locked the doors? So many questions...
- Wasn't expecting this to lead back into ghost girl.
- Oh, so it was a trippy dream sequence! That explains a lot. Actually puts the weirdness of that scene in perspective.
- A dream within a dream though. I wonder just how messed up Haiku is to have dreams like these, since they don't seem like visions. What kind of problems he has, that is.
- Thought he was pulling out a dream journal at first.
- Very interesting way to portray ghosts in this world. At least, as far as Haiku is concerned.
- Making me wonder what this condition is. Three chapters in and the fic has been notably evasive on just what caused Haiku to need to have a Rotom in his had.

Pressing on. And onward to the next chapter.
 
Content warning: suicide

Marvelous Bridge

Haiku stepped out of the elevator and onto the bridge. He was tired, but he planned to continue on with his travels. The sky was blue and clear. The bridge was quiet that day. A fisherman nearby was selling Magikarp for 500 Poké, and an old lady stood near the railing, staring out into the ocean.

Cautiously, Haiku approached the old woman. “Excuse me,” he said, “I’m a paranormal researcher. Do you know anything about a girl who appears here sometimes?”

The old woman turned to face Haiku. Her eyes were a bit sad. “Yes, I knew her,” she said. “She used to play here with her Abra – before the bridge was built.”

Haiku nodded. “What happened to her?”

She fell silent, as if searching for the right words. “She… she jumped. The bridge was still new back then, they had barely finished constructing it. There was no safety net underneath.”

“I see,” said Haiku, his voice somber. “Thank you for your time.”

The old woman offered a sad smile.

Haiku started walking towards the center of the bridge. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw someone or something following him, but when he turned around there was nobody behind him.

Looks clear to me, said Rotom.

A bead of sweat dripped down the side of Haiku’s face as he reassured himself that nobody was following him. He took a deep breath. As he did so, someone tapped him on the shoulder. He whirled around to find a girl with short wine red hair.

“Hey, I overheard you are a paranormal researcher,” said the girl. “I’m Morgan. Are you looking for the ghost girl, too? The one from the Strange House?”

Still overcoming his sense of shock, Haiku just said, “Yes.” Morgan did not look threatening – she was petite, though she did carry Poké Balls attached to her belt. Haiku counted six.

A full team, Rotom commented. She’s an experienced trainer.

“Let’s join forces,” suggested the girl. “I’ve been tracking her down myself. I’ve interviewed people in Nimbasa City, where apparently she stayed with her grandparents after her parents died.”

Haiku frowned. “Why the interest in this girl?”

“I’m going to be a researcher myself!” Morgan proclaimed a little proudly. “And I have interest in the paranormal, like you do.”

Makes sense, said Rotom. Why don’t you talk to her, at least find out what she knows?

“So… her parents died, and she was living with her grandparents in Nimbasa City when she died by jumping off of the bridge.”

“Her parents died in some kind of accident,” said Morgan. “And the girl was plagued with horrible nightmares after that. She would stay up all night, staring at the moon. The night she jumped was the night of the new moon.”

Could be Darkrai, said Rotom, it causes terrible nightmares on nights of the new moon.

“That’s the time Darkrai is most active,” Haku replied. “So Darkrai is involved in this?”

“Maybe,” Morgan said, “But there’s only one way to find out. She usually appears at sunset, near the center of the bridge, looking over the edge.”



The blue sky was beginning to turn pink at its edges. Morgan and Haiku waited near the center of the bridge. Orange and yellow hues sunk into the atmosphere as the sun began to set, and a sudden chill struck the air where the two trainers were standing.

Finally, a small voice echoed: “Did you come to play with me?”

Haiku turned to face the girl. She was indeed the same girl from the Strange House. “I came to ask a question,” he said. “You’ve said that part of me is a ghost. What do you mean by that?”

“Do you ever look back on yourself as a child,” she said, “And realize that person no longer exists? That part of you that remains is just memories. Just like a ghost.”

“I see,” replied Haiku.

“Ghosts don’t grow up,” the girl continued. “We’re frozen in the past. I jumped from this bridge 10 years ago.”

“So something that changed me deeply separated me from my own childhood, and that part of me is frozen in the past,” Haiku said. “But how do you know?”

The ghost girl didn’t answer.

During this exchange, Morgan was taking notes in a spiral-bound notebook. She looked up as the conversation paused, and then added in, “What do you know about a Pokémon called Darkrai?”

Suddenly, the image of the girl began to fade. Her voice echoed, more faintly this time: “You’d better take this. I don’t need it anymore.” Then she vanished, and left where she had stood was a feather, green and faintly glowing in the wash of pink sunset.
 
- Well we are getting somewhere with the plot. Although, this doesn't answer a lot of questions about anything, just raises more. Why did she jump? It seemed like she had a happy life playing with her Abra.
- This Morgan girl is not wasting any time getting down to business. She's just jumping right in, introducing herself, and immediately suggesting that she joins forces with Haiku. Girl with wine red hair / She wants to work together / But this is abrupt.
- Ah, so here is some more of our backstory explaining this bizarre mystery girl. Well, the ghost one. The new moon, though? Interesting bringing Darkrai into it, but isn't New Moon Island like half the world away?
- I was not expecting a young girl ghost to end up this philosophical. But I supposed time is only relative to them. Like she said, they're in effect frozen in time, and you can joke but they can in fact, really be 700 years old.
- Funny mental image of Morgan just standing around while Haiku and the ghost girl shoot the spit with each other. I would've laughed if the response to the abrupt question about Darkrai was that she never heard of it.
- Wonder if the spiral on the notebook holds any significant meaning? When I think Pokemon and spirals I think Poliwag and co, but if them probably has nothing to do with anything.
- Green feather, huh? Intriguing. Though, what ever did a ghost need material possessions to begin with? Get the feeling this goes deeper than mere bad dreams.

Moving on and along with things. Fairly uncertain about Morgan's introduction, but she wouldn't be the first character I've seen join someone on their journey abruptly for their own personal reasons. But hey, we have a real mystery on our hands, gang. Let's keep looking for clues!
 
Please note: The thread is from 4 years ago.
Please take the age of this thread into consideration in writing your reply. Depending on what exactly you wanted to say, you may want to consider if it would be better to post a new thread instead.
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