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TEEN: Flying in the Dark [COMPLETE]

ohhhhh man. the meme, the myth, the legend. spoilering the rest of this review just in case.

I wish I could've offered you the reader experience of not knowing what this reveal was going to be and/or not expecting it, so I could provide better context for how believable it is. Without the benefit of being blind, I really can't say, but I think it worked. The callbacks you have about all the strange shit, and the general structure of how En's backstory got coaxed out, make it clear that this was intended from the start. There's enough finer details -- the fixation on Enmity, Ribbon's unease, and even the ones I didn't notice like Haley's hair color -- that this all fits together in hindsight. I wish I could help you more as far as telling you how it would've fit together in foresight.

Mark adopted a pseudonym, for a while. He wrote to me. Much like you. Too afraid to approach anywhere near Lumiose, then Laverre once I transferred there. And I? I was incapable of leaving the prison freely like I can now, thanks to my unevolved form.
This is the one bit I don't get -- I imagine the psuedonym is mentioned just so that guards don't wonder why Mark is writing to Mark, but are we also supposed to think that Mark is one of the characters we've seen throughout the story? Is he Kenneth?? Ribbons????

until my competency hearing came and weight
oop. first typo I've caught from you in a while lol

This is a really interesting take on pokeballs that I haven't seen before and I like the originality. I think it has some weird implications though? I think some of them are intentional/in-line with your fic, so I'm mostly trying to digest it more clearly -- "will to live" implies severe inhumane problems with catching pokemon, but Markus casually lets his pokemon rot and Haley's reaction is a "oh no, that's so sad" instead of what I would've expected, so it looks like this is standard? I dunno, I think I'm reading too far into it, but like with the change to the Xerneas mythos I'm interested to see if this was an intentional darkening as well.
Still, it would mean that Donmel is capable of the same, and that he’s failed to help his pokémon reach that potential in favor of neglect.
me in chapter five: oh yeah this was probably just a throwaway line and I bet it's not going to develop into a commentary on how the pokemon-human master-trainer dynamic is actually horrific

but anyway. This is a fic that was a pleasure to read from finish (oop) to start to finish. I think a lot of the details that I worked through in my big-boi review for letters 5-26 hold here, so I don't want to bore you with repeating, but now that everything's come together it's nice to see how well you crafted your details and your characters to matter. I thouroughly enjoyed reading. I wish I had more to say.

On closing thoughts: I have a rough time trying to compile my thoughts on this fic, which is somewhat of a first for me and reviewing lol. I think for the most part it's just hollowness: I wanted a happy ending for these fucks and this is bittersweet, and I know ultimately in the framework you presented this was the only real solution for them but I still wanted them to get something better. Enmity's letter is a whole bunch of foregone conclusions and sad things given voice, and it works, but goddamn does it feel like a gut punch going through it the first time. Mark is dead indeed.
 
@kintsugi No worries on not being able to give the "blind" reader experience! It's mostly my fault for being giddy and not shutting down the conversations about the meme down, lmao, then eventually slipping up for good. So, I'm sorry for not being able to give the blind reader experience to you if that's what you wanted. But I'm glad to hear things all felt wrapped up, made sense, and that even the little details seemed intentional.

As for the pseudonym thing, no, there's nothing ominous behind that. It was a detail I put in to avoid the "wtf how'd the guards not catch on, then" question, heh.

Re: the ending, the actual final letter(s) will be posted tomorrow. I can totally see how that felt like an ending, though. I'll take the hollowness and gut punches as compliments that are fine on their own; you've definitely given lots of good feedback in all your reviews already that I couldn't ask for more!

me in chapter five: oh yeah this was probably just a throwaway line and I bet it's not going to develop into a commentary on how the pokemon-human master-trainer dynamic is actually horrific

:lapras: sorry not sorry
 
letters 28-32
FLYING IN THE DARK
[letters twenty-eight through thirty-two]

*
December 2

Markus,

I’m writing to you because… some things that should never start, do start. They start and then they spiral. Chances slip away, unnoticed half the time. Or for you, all the time.

It’s 5:00 in the morning. The moon’s almost finished trading places with the sun, as usual, and the local birds feel safe enough now to parade across the sky. Unlike me, they’re rested and ready to face the day. I couldn’t sleep last night. Instead I listened to my pokémon snore and dreamed, not of illusions and fantasies, but events that truly happened. It was hard, filtering out images and words my brain wanted to fill in, but I owed it to someone special to be objective. I allowed myself to feel, allowed myself to react, but I could not change what I knew to fit myself and make the pain go away for either of us.

Where are you? Are you okay? Substituting drugs for coffee, maybe? Maybe you’re sitting at your favorite cafe waiting for breakfast, because you’ve managed to stay in one place long enough to find a favorite, and maybe that’ll lead the city you’re in to become that elusive place worthy of being called home.

You already know the alternative. How many years have you been living it, exactly? And that’s assuming you’re even alive...

All I know for certain is that I miss you. I’ve missed you from the day that I first saw your name and decided to write to you. Since then, it’s been like we’ve taken on roles in a stage play, where every time we glance at each other we’re unsure who we are at that exact moment. Where we’re pulled in one direction by our true self, and by an invisible but compelling captor in the other.

I miss you, but I can’t forgive you for what you did to En. What he’s sacrificed for you, all his pain, all his time spent waiting, waiting, waiting for you… You have your reasons all laid out in your mind should guilt ever threaten to overwhelm you, I’m sure. The best I can conclude for myself is that I don’t actually know you as well as I thought I did, and for that and many other things, I’m so, so disappointed. Our letters end here officially indeed.

Goodbye,
Haley

*

December 2

En,

Now that that’s out of the way… Let’s start over. Because I’ve heard a lot about you, En, and I’d love to hear more! Should I call you En? That’s how you signed your letter, though you referred to yourself as Enmity before. So I want to double check before I commit to either one.

I’ve cut up Markus’s letters and saved your parts. You know, the parts where you tried to tell me the truth, your version and view of things, and it all went over my head the first time. Oh, and the second and third and fourth times. I wasn’t exaggerating when I said I reread your letters a lot on the road, which I did not just to pass the time but as a way to enjoy it. I didn’t ignore my surroundings or anything, don’t worry! That was just the only way to bring you with me and Kenneth.

Anyway, now I knew what I was looking for. I distinguished you from Markus pretty easy, and facts that seemed unmemorable made more sense as to why you thought they should stick out more. Then I said goodbye to Markus. I’m weak, it’s true. I can’t handle him knowing what he did to you.

I’ve said I’m sorry a lot lately, I know, you might be sick of it, but I’m sorry. For what, I don’t know anymore? For Markus abandoning you, of course. But it’s more than that. Like, I don’t think you expected me to catch on to you pretending to be Markus. You just hoped I’d run away. So I guess I’m sorry for not running away, because that meant adding to your suffering. Fine, I alleviated it in some ways, but not where they mattered.

I’m also not sorry for not running away. I didn’t force you to confess. You trusted me enough to share that information, didn’t you? If I hadn’t persisted, you’d still be at Brun Way, unaware that you needed to find yourself. Call me naive, but I don’t believe you confessed only because you wanted to test me one last time to see if I’d run. And if you did, well, here I am. I haven’t run and I’m not going to.

I’m planning a picnic with my pokémon a week from today, next Thursday. Without Kenneth to help pool the money, we gotta find some trainers to battle. Then I’ll use any cash we win to buy the food and drinks! And by waiting a few days, you should see this letter and have time to decide if you’ll join us. If you want to and you’re ready, I mean.

The weather’s turning colder, you’re right. I’m not ignoring it! My grandmother’s sending me my winter supplies in the mail. They should be here by Thursday, too. So if you’re cold, I’ll have a blanket for you.

I hope we’ll see you then? Don’t be shy or scared or whatever. Like I said, I want to start over. Don’t you?

~ Haley

*

December 9

We finished cleaning up from the picnic a few minutes ago. Obviously, you didn’t join us, or I wouldn’t need to write to you. You missed out on a great fruit salad! (Yes, Kai’s choice.) There were plenty of jambon-beurres to go around, too. I made extra just in case.

Was it too much to expect you to come out of hiding so soon? Probably. I’m sorry if you feel pressured because of me. I don’t know how else to emphasize that you have a place here, and that I suspect you want to claim it. I fought the urge to chase after you, at least! ...Yeah, I know you were watching as we ate. Ribbons was on alert, eating slower than usual. After my third reminder to eat his food before Kai nabbed it, he told me he sensed the darkness again. What a relief it was to know you were safe! And in Laverre still! I tried to explain to Ribbons what that darkness was in the simplest way I could, and he understands now. Sort of. He’s wary, but he promised not to attack and that he’d be friendly if you joined our team.

Seybs made a passing comment during lunch about my spaciness, which rivals his these days, apparently! Or maybe that’s how I roll now. Kenneth pointed out every absentminded moment of mine he could, when he was around. I wonder if he’s back in Aquacorde right now. He hasn’t written me yet, but he will. My grandmother told me to check the mail again this month, too, without a reason why. I guess I’ll find out why soon enough, huh?

That’s all for now, I think. Remember, we’ll be around if you need us or want to say hi!

~ Haley

*

December 21

En,

It just occurred to me. How we communicate might change completely if you drop by in person. I’m not about to force you to talk, or get frustrated at needing to decipher your gestures. I’m well-versed in that by now! But you can talk, you said so yourself. Do I want to be another person in your life that makes silence comfortable? That sounds too much like replacing Markus, in a way, and we’ve sworn off that. For good reason. I considered performance skits as a lighthearted way to introduce you to my birds, too, but on second thought...

A familiar event happened that reminded me how everything keeps changing. I’d be tempted to look back myself if I didn’t have a responsibility I can’t ignore. My grandmother passed on my address to my dad, who sent me college admission fliers. They went straight into the trash. My grandmother’s own package to me included an apology letter on my dad’s behalf and instructions to talk to the Laverre Center staff. Did you see us head there and come out with her gift, En? An egg! Another one! To celebrate my gym badge achievements, apparently, and the holidays.

The egg resembles, like, a boulder. I wasn’t aware that a rock-type bird existed. (My grandmother wouldn’t send anything but a bird. She knows better!) The egg’s red and yellow, mostly, with flecks of blue and white scattered. During our checkup appointment, Laverre’s Nurse Joy suggested it might be an archen, a species I pretended to know all about and researched later at the local library.

Archen are flightless birds… from historic times. So how could I have the unborn egg of an extinct species? I couldn’t stop reading to find out. Technology’s advanced enough to revive the fossils that archeologists have dug up, and now, the species is being bred to intentionally reestablish and stabilize the population. Whole museums and displays have been built to educate the public about fossil pokémon, why they went extinct, why and how they should be able to survive in today’s world, and how people can help. It’s trainers like me, my grandmother wrote, that have the most power to make their revival possible.

But there’s a catch. Well, actually, first my grandmother asked to write letters to her about the archen’s progress before and after it’s born. For research purposes. Also, other archen have been born and immediately started suffering migraines, so I should watch out for that. Nobody knows why yet for certain, but the one trainer thus far who’s communicated with their archen said that its memory was wack. As in, their archen felt that it possessed memories not belonging to them, maybe their parent’s. My grandmother suspects this phenomenon could be a side effect caused by the revival process. Especially archen who have no communication with their parents, but sense a great need for them or any biological kin, could be more prone to sense these memories.

I should go check on the egg, now that I think about it. The Center’s holding it for observation at no charge until the end of the week. Doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be responsible! And my team’s eager to see each time if their new friend’s hatched yet. Ribbons tries to see through the eggshell. Seybs perches as close as he can get without being yelled at by the nurses; he said that the body heat emanating from him might help. Kai brings fruit offerings with us but eats them himself when no one else does.

Anyway. Off we go! You know where to find us if you get lonely.

~ Haley

*

December 30

En,

Forgive me, but actually, I wish I hadn’t cut up Markus’s letters and thrown the pieces away. I could use his comments about egg breeding, now that I’m on my own. Oh, the nurses handed me a sheet of instructions, but their wording’s so robotic that I feel like I’m caring for a toy rather than an unborn pokémon. How’d I take care of Seybs’s and Ribbons’s eggs? I didn’t, really. I stared at them in excitement while my grandmother did all the hard work. I should’ve been a better student, huh?

We’re still located at the Center, in case you were wondering. We’ve rented out our room through the month, which cost a ton. Trainers can take advantage of a holiday discount, at least. Not that we’ll be celebrating otherwise; it’s too much a reminder of my parents and Joey. For the rest, Seybs and Kai watch over and guard the egg while Ribbons battles for me. He’s my best fighter, so I’m less likely to break even or lose profit. And if something goes awry at the Center, Kai flies to me to warn me. That’s the plan, anyway. Nothing alarming has popped up yet.

Laverre in winter is colder than I expected. The trees stand naked now, and the wind strikes us at full force. Vendors selling gloves and hats and scarves compete with each other at every corner. But you can see all that for yourself now! My point is, why couldn’t my grandmother have gifted me the egg in the summer months? Any higher or lower than 37.5 degrees, and the baby could suffer. Our cheap styrofoam cooler and heating pad⁠—both of which also stole a fair amount of money from my pockets⁠—wouldn’t be enough in this weather. And the air, it’s too dry! Before I leave Seybs and Kai to their duties, I heat up a pan of water and leave a sponge in it, to create humidity. I instructed my birds to watch the thermometer and hygrometer, and they could divide that task up however they want, but if the numbers fluctuate too much, they must find me.

I think Kenneth would be impressed with my system, if I do say so myself. I’m gonna tell him about it, once I’m done writing to you. His first letter arrived to me from Aquacorde, so he made it safely! Most of his letter consists of questions about me and how I’m doing. I plan to pry some information out of him regarding the search for his dad. Not forcefully, of course! I’m just genuinely concerned and interested. It’s time I proved that to him.

I don’t mean to put any pressure on you still. But if you think my system’s flawed or needs tweaking, let me know, okay? You learned a lot from Markus, and I know you’d be a great help.

~ Haley
 
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letter 33
The final letter! It's been fun. <3 Keep in mind this is a double update, so don't forget to read the above post, too.

FLYING IN THE DARK
[letter thirty-three]

*
January 6

All right, Haley, fine. I can’t believe you’re serious about me, but fine. First of all, En is the name I prefer, yes. Second, you and Ribbons are right. Here I am in Laverre, just not near you for the moment. I need a human form to write; my zoroark claws tend to snap pens in half by accident. The only human form I can use without draining all my energy is Mark’s, though, and I refuse to revive in front of you the illusion I vowed to break. As for using my actual voice in lieu of letters, would you give me a short while longer on that?

I helped myself to an empty notebook from the Pokémon Fan Club and fled with it to hide behind the prison. Using the prison as a solitary refuge is not as risky as you’d expect. The police are flocked elsewhere searching for me. The chances of you stumbling upon me here are nil, because why would you come back as long as the wanted posters hang? And the residents of Laverre take care to give this place a wide berth. Besides, the prison is familiar. In a way it’s my home. Nobody there wants me or loves me. Nobody there knows a thing about me. Valerie and Rowe, they were performers in their own right. Bouncer and Eyeball exhausted their worries on themselves. Still, Brun Way is home, a physical address for Mark to find me if he were to find himself in town during his travels.

That farewell letter to Mark was unnecessary, you know. I appreciate it nonetheless, more so than I can say. My letter to you revealing everything was full of story, story, story. The feeling was missing. At least, any feeling present didn’t properly portray the feral rage which clusters inside of me whenever I think about him. I should’ve kept writing until I got it right.

I’ll try again sometime. With my voice, I could say what I want, for as long as I want, and my words would disappear immediately. Alone, I wouldn’t have to be held accountable for the horrible light I’d paint him in. As it stands, if I want to howl, my throat closes up, smothered by all the words he used to say to me. I can vomit them, but there’s always more. I am not allowed any of my own. I relinquished my right to speak, to have an identity. And he was truly fine with that? He made it look so easy, opening and closing one’s heart when convenient.

Could be my battle instincts talking here, but I would’ve paid you to cut into him more, tear him apart. I’d pay you with your lucky coin, another unnecessary offering from you to me, for my luck began the day our friendship was made possible. AZ’s floette was bitter about her revival, remember? She woke up to broken bodies and blood splattered every which way, a wreckage created in her name. Mark would be bitter as well if I revived him into my life, tracked him down and subjected him to my presence again. The difference is that he’d deserve the ensuing barrage of shame.

Of course, I won’t do that. I lost our coin toss and promised to go forward per your request. I can heal otherwise and face Mark’s extinct place in my life without any apology from him. I can learn to forgive myself for lying to him just as well. I wonder, were we ever going to extract the truth from each other? Who lied first? How did he develop illusionist skills rivaling a zorua’s, anyway? Did either of us realize that the kinds of illusions we offered each other were insatiable and that down the road we might’ve been asked to forge and live in an entire fantasy world?

I feel exactly how I felt when I slipped off into one spring night in Lumiose to practice, without Mark knowing. I brought my pokéball with me so that he couldn’t hunt me down if I chose to disappear for good. As if I couldn’t break out of it and make a break for it whenever I wanted. At the end of my training session, it was my pokéball that disappeared instead. I looked everywhere for it in the secluded field, brushing aside clumps of dirt and grass displaced from my attacks. I looked up and down all of Route 16, then suspected that I’d actually left my pokéball with Mark. I tried not to think about what that meant as I combed through our belongings. I never saw my pokéball again—good riddance, my psyche tormented me in there—but I found Mark’s stash of drugs and dirty needles.

I’d always hoped my pain would be useful. That I could shoot it out of me rather than allow to engulf the last vestige of hope in me. Today is that day, Haley. You and I, we can’t stay in Laverre forever. It’s such a dreary place for me and surely for you now. I’ve been dreaming about being anywhere else again. So, heads or tails? Flip heads and we go west. We could explore the seas in Coumarine and Shalour, or, if you’d rather save that for the summer, we could visit the museums of archaeological artifacts in Geosenge. Flip tails and we go… not east, not to Anistar and where you’ve already traveled. Let’s say we’d go south, quickly past Lumiose, to Aquacorde so I can perhaps meet Kenneth formally. Oh, and I heard there’s plenty of annual winter festivals held in Snowbelle.

I want to find me, and I could be anywhere. I have no leads to go on. Thus I’m content with either result. Even if I remain lost, these letters of ours will serve a new purpose as receipts. These receipts can be handed to anyone as proof of your seemingly endless love for me, and my willingness to watch the chips in my armor, thick as it was, fall away. I don’t know about you, but I think I’ll continue to read these receipts when I sense that life’s playing tricks on me. Please keep them safe.

Are you okay with this, truly? A stupid question, maybe, but I am not a battler and I cannot be bound by another ball if my previous one wasn’t destroyed. And as a warning, I’m not inclined to go easy on you. You focus your fortitude outward for the benefit of others until resentment replaces your feelings of goodwill. We cannot reach that point, whether it’d be your fault or mine. I refuse to have a second trainer who neglects herself always.

You’re faring much better in the winter weather, now. The snowflakes clinging to Laverre’s leafless trees glitter in the sunlight and obscure my view of you and your team at times, but I get the gist of things. When the ice crackles beneath your feet, you don’t flinch, you march on. You check the white watch on your wrist constantly; soon you’ll sense when a half hour passes without conscious effort. How much longer until that egg hatches, anyway? If you’ve told your birds, I did not hear. The wind rarely eases up here, and its sharp whistle hounds my ears.

Whenever it hatches, caring for the baby archen is where the real challenge begins. You had competent help in incubating the egg, no worries there. From what I remember of Mark’s ramblings about the topic, catching and taming it from the get go is essential to creating a positive environment when it rests in there. Those were facts, not part of my tall tales. A restful pokémon is healthier, happier, stronger. Of course, experiences outside of its pokéball will matter, but you’re perfectly prepared in that regard. You’ll mostly have to struggle with keeping the archen warm, really warm, while traveling until its feathers grow in proper. Or until spring arrives, whichever comes first.

How, you ask? And how would you know if the archen’s getting sick or discontent or whatever else? I won’t tell you here. Later. Then I’ll know exactly what to say when I approach you. Perhaps the archen will not hatch for another month, in which case I will be patient a while longer. I just feel that I’m less likely to falter and find comfort in silence if I start off with confidence. I know you understand.

So, are you ready? Once again, our letters end here. Words only from now on.

Sincerely,
En
 
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