EVERYONE: KAIJUMON

Snuggle Tier List · Mar 9, 2019

Banner is transformation of Behemoth and Leviathan by William Blake. Font is Kaiju Monster G by Goma Shin.

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This is an unofficial, company-independant work of fiction made by a Pokémon fan. Under accessible information and belief, copyright of the Pokémon franchise and its contents is shared between Nintendo Co., Ltd. and subsidiaries, Creatures Inc., Game Freak Inc., and The Pokémon Company. I consider this work fair use under United States law on basis of being a noncommercial, highly transformitive work that uses the minimum necessary, least substantial portions of the original work, and that does not significantly impact the original work's market (actual or potential). I consider this work copyrighted under United States law as I, the author of this work, reside in and fix this work into tangible form from the United States onto servers hosted by United States-based Cloudflare Inc. in San Francisco, California with Bulbagarden.net's registrar being United States-based GoDaddy.com LLC.

All portions of this work not owned by Nintendo / Creatures Inc. / Game Freak / The Pokémon Company are released under the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License, also known as CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 and hereby referenced by this image:

This means that, within any rights or restrictions granted or imposed on you and me by the Bulbagarden Forums Terms and rules, you're free to repost, parody, and otherwise remix this work, so long as you:

• credit the original author (@Snuggle Tier List, Snuggles, and Kyle are all fine)
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You can find a human-readable copy of this license at Creative Commons — Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International — CC BY-NC-SA 4.0. The full text of the license can be found in the spoiler immediately below (click the spoiler to view the license):

Code:

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Additional copyright information is provided in the spoilers below:

As per the Bulbagarden Forum's Terms and Rules, this author has granted the providers of the Bulbagarden Forums "with a non-exclusive, permanent, irrevocable, unlimited license to use, publish, or re-publish your Content in connection with the Service. You retain copyright over the Content." (emphasis added by me, the work's author) Thus, I believe I, the author of my work, have legal standing to license my work to other parties via Creative Commons.

If you have any questions or concerns regarding this work's copyright, please start a conversation with the user @Snuggle Tier List. Due to safety concerns raised by staff operating under the authority of the Bulbagarden Forums, I intend to share as little personal information as possible about my location. Nevertheless, if you have legal cause to learn more about me (for instance, learn my address so I can be properly served by a court), please contact @Snuggle Tier List through a direct message via the Bulbagarden Forums. This requires registration with the Bulbagarden Forums, which you may do by clicking "Register" at the top of the page and confirming an email address.

EVERYONE CONTENT WARNING: Acknowledges irrationality is part of being human. Incorporates mental health into the plot. Some alcohol/drug use by certain troubled characters. Parodies the source material in good faith. Infrequent harsh language. Poop jokes. Is fan fiction.

~~------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------~~

“I have had, in the course of my life, a lot of contact with many serious people. I have lived among the grown-ups. I saw them up close. It did not really improve my opinion of them.”

—Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, "The Little Prince"

Kaijumon is the story of little kids having little kid adventures in a little kid world. But it's not a little kid world. It's a grown-up world full of angry grown-ups that don't like little kids. They want you to have grown-up adventures where people hate and the world is angry, where people fight and lie and scream and die and say everything's fine, because that's what grown-ups do. And I hate to break it to them, but not everyone wants to grow up.

Kaijumon is the story of Cory Costa, 10, and his big monster friend Treecko. Cory is anxious, a slow but deep thinker, and doesn't like to get in trouble. Treecko is proud, a quick but sloppy thinker, and likes to think she's a scary beast. They are going to be friends, everyone will watch, and the world can't stop them. Because, you know, Treecko's a kaiju. Kaiju are hard to move. They weigh a lot.

Kaijumon is an adult's tale of friendly giant monsters and scary puny humans, as witnessed through the eyes of children. It's a passionate attempt to defend childhood against harsh reality, ala The Little Prince or Mr. Roger's Neighborhood's special episodes, plus some Terry Pratchett thrown in for the fun of it. It's written so that you could read it to your kids, but it's best read by an adult with a keen eye for subtext. Read it slow, let it digest, and have some fun with monsters, too. Because monsters can be very scary and mean and alone, but just maybe being a scary monster isn't the healthiest way to live. It's a very scary world sometimes. Kaijumon is an idea for a better one.

TL;DR: Pokémon, but bigger. Much, much bigger.

CH1: Welcome to the Family
CH2: Growing Pains
CH3: We Are Not Alone
CH4: When All You Have Left Walks Away

Or: Read CH1 through CH4 without chapter breaks.
Or: Read CH1 through CH4 as one chapter on Archive of Our Own.

Additional chapters are possible but unlikely. CH4 has been written to provide a satisfying conclusion.

May 22nd, 2019: Reformatting intro post as response to review, found a way to stuff most of it in a spoiler tag while still giving "reasonable notice". No further updates planned at this time. You probably don't need to be reading this. Why are you reading this? I completed the fic, it's just a minor formatting change. Why are you still reading? There is nothing of substance to this news update!

...why am I writing this? Do I really have such low confidence that I have to make each news update unique? Why couldn't I have just said "COPYRIGHT FORMATTING BLAH" and be over with this? I could be making myself a meal, or working on another fic, or just playing a game. Why am I chained to this news update? Why can't I let it go?

I'm gonna need some time to contemplate my life choices. Perhaps I shouldn't have bombed that orphanage after all. Perhaps I shouldn't have executed the survivors, one by one, their eyes locked with mine. Perhaps I should've studied for finals. I dunno, man. I dunno.

~~--------------------------------~~

May 13th, 2019: Hello again! Just a quick formatting update as I go through my fics and standardize formatting. No new content, but I've shuffled around the intro post after looking further into copyright and replacing the source links on some images due to an unexpected futureproofing problem I had on another fic. Please pay no mind.

~~--------------------------------~~

April 3rd, 2019: An AO3 archive is up! Kinda. The site uses HTML instead of BBCode and had a too-small character limit for the summary, so I had to cut some content. It's a more plaintext-y way to read the fic, which has pros or cons.

While it isn't a perfect copy, I consider my fic sufficiently archived at this point, with multiple copies around the internet (plus local copies, just in case). Which means, barring something completely unexpected, this will be KAIJUMON's final news update. Thank you all for reading; it's been a great time writing. Hope to write new fics soon!

~~--------------------------------~~

March 21st, 2019: As a stopgap measure, I've archived this thread's Reader Mode via the Wayback Machine (link). Thus, in case something goes horribly wrong on Bulbagarden's/Xenforo's end, this fic will still be accessible. It isn't an ideal archive; all images, for instance, are shrunk down to icon size. Nevertheless, the actual text of the fic should be preserved for the immediate future.

I'm still looking into other options. AO3 is my primary choice due to their legal policies, though I need to sort out some e-mail problems before they become plausible. Hope to have a real final update soon!

~~--------------------------------~~

March 20th, 2019: Finished! Kaijumon has reached its planned conclusion. While I may one day resume Cory and Treecko's adventures, I feel like I've said all I've needed to say. At least, about this premise.

In addition, in the spirit of one of my prime inspirations, I've created the "Pratchett Chapter" as an alternative means of reading the fic. The Pratchett chapter is simply the entire fic compiled into one big chapter. I've added numbers at the center of each line break to help you keep your place. Unfortunately, forum posts aren't the most hospitable place for longer-form chapterless writing, and so I'm looking into alternative hosting options before I dive back into publishing. Don't worry; my roots are in the Bulbagarden Forums, and I intend to keep them here barring extraordinary circumstances.

If I do find a good host, I hope to add a link soon. Other than that, I expect this to be my final news update. Thank you to everyone reading! It's been a wild ride. And perhaps, maybe the start of something greater?

~~--------------------------------~~

March 17th-ish, 2019: Surprise! CH3 is going up a little early. There's this really stupid thing called "the real world" and it's demanding extra attention over the next couple of days, so I'm posting CH3 the night before promised.

I've done some prep work to make sure the fic remains on schedule. CH4 has already past it's grammah check and is currently sitting in a .txt preformatted with BBCode on my phone, as well as all image attachments. I probably won't have that much time to respond to potential comments and reviews over the next couple of days, but CH4 will be posted on time, on schedule. Don't worry if you post a review now; I'll get to you eventually!

In addition, there's one final secret I'll be posting in addition to CH4. It's an alternate way to read my fic, and while it won't offer any new content, I do think it'll make the fic better. But that's between you, me, and the internet, so don't tell anyone, okay?

~~--------------------------------~~

March 15th, 2019: Chapter banners have arrived! I have banners edited into CH1 and CH2, plus banners prepped for CH3 and CH4. That should be the last of the artwork; visually, the fic is polished to the best of my current abilities. Maybe I could replace the horizontal lines with fancy scribbles or something, but I think that might be overkill. Don't want to distract from the text.

Speaking of text, CH3 has finished prep for publishing, while CH4 is going through one last grammah check pass. I'm going go get CH4 ready for publication next, just in case the bombs drop and I need to publish early. Other than that, it's mostly sit and wait. I'll start advertising this thread once CH4 is published, see if I can get some feedback. But that's down the road. For now, expect the next update to be CH3.

~~--------------------------------~~

March 13th, 2019: CH2 is going up! And it's released under Creative Commons! Which shouldn't mean anything for this thread besides a legal disclaimer. The disclaimer's long and boring and looks like a tumor overshadowing my entire intro, so I've done some reformating to physically quarantine the copyright notice into its own section. Unfortunately, copyright disclaimers require "reasonable disclosure" (AKA not sneaked in or hidden away), so the disclaimer's gotta go up top. It's mostly a little extra defense in case of plagiarism on other sites or false accusations of copyright infringement. I'm not aware of these things happening or being in the works, but it helps put my mind at ease.

In addition, keen-eyed readers might have noticed I changed some words around in the Table of Contents. That's because CH4's ambiguous ending wasn't sitting right with me, so I expanded the story until there wasn't so much ambiguity. Thus, the qualifier "ambiguous" has been removed. I'll leave it at that to avoid spoilers.

Next on the agenda is proper chapter banners. This will be a bit of a project, but you'll probably see them before CH3 goes up. If not, expect the next update to be CH3.

~~--------------------------------~~

March 11th, 2019: Banner is up! Did some minor reformatting to accommodate its presence. Was extra cautious with the credits, as well; the artwork I used as a base is well into the public domain, and I even credited the font. Including the credits, I think it's a decent tone setter.

I'm considering using an old footprint graphic I made as the base for individual chapter banners, though that's likely further down the line. I'm expecting no more updates until after CH2 is released. All it needs is a final spell check and some BBCode-ifying, which took me about thirty minutes for CH1. But I'm going to finish it up ASAP, just in case there's any unexpected problems. As such, don't expect any more updates until after the 13th, unless something goes horribly wrong.

~~--------------------------------~~

March 10th, 2019: Fixed a visual glitch with horizontal lines in CH1, plus a few grammah edits. Nothing major so far.

Also, a proper banner is in the works! I'm making it myself out of some old art I never used; shouldn't take too long. Expect a properly Kaiju-themed first impression soon.

~~--------------------------------~~

March 9th, 2019: This is where I'll post any construction details for this fic (edits to existing chapters, intro restructuring, etc.) If you read a chapter, come back, and the place looks different, check here for the details.

Latest News Update: May 22nd, 2019

Special Thanks:
@Beth Pavell
@unrepentantAuthor
And everyone that comments or reviews!

Snuggle Tier List · Mar 9, 2019

~~------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------~~

Banner is original work by @Snuggle Tier List. Font is Medieval Scribish by St Rachan.

Cory Costa, a ten-year-old child with no formal training, was to adopt one of three newborn giant monsters. Mrs. Costa was less than thrilled. Her concerns, in no particular order:

• Crushing
• Stomping
• Skewering
• Devouring
• Excessive squeezing
• Suffocation
• Amputation
• Decapitation
• Incineration
• Total annihilation
• Her ex complaining about her parenting again
• Someone saying "what could go wrong?"
• And monster poop on her new couch (it's a nice couch)

Despite these minor concerns, when the Kaijumon League deemed Mrs. Costa's only child a perfect candidate to raise a god, Mrs. Costa gracefully accepted. After all, the monsters just want friends, Mrs. Costa. Don't be anxious, Mrs. Costa. You don't want to make them angry, Mrs. Costa.

Cory, a ten-year-old child, had different concerns:

• COOL
• How big will it be?
• Will it think I'm cool?
• Can it breathe fire?
• Can it breathe acid?
• Can it fly?
• Can I ride on its back?
• How fast will it go?
• Does it eat people?
• Does it roar?
• Does it do that stomp thing where the ground shakes and there're cracks in the ground and it's really cool?
• Will this get me out of school?

Now, Cory could've asked these questions at any time. Or he could've picked the Kaijumon that looked like a dinosaur and assumed everything would be fine, because Cory was a ten-year-old child with no idea what he's doing. And she wasn't a dinosaur, Treecko's a bipedal forest gecko, but pedantics wasn't Cory's strong suit.

And so, Cory and Mrs. Costa walked home from the Littleroot Kaijumon Lab, Cory cradling his new partner Treecko. She was small now, just a newborn, but give her a couple days and she'll start showing her true colors. Or so the very helpful Kaijumon professor testified, at least. But there was no reason to be scared, so long as Treecko got plenty of food and love and care and food and fealty and food. You see, Mrs. Costa, Treecko was kind and gentle and friendly and bulletproof and immortal and is going to grow into a giant monster, please don't make her angry. Mrs. Costa had smiled, nodded, and clenched her child's hand.

Treecko had some thoughts on the situation:

• Who is this pathetic mortal?
• Why isn't he kneeling?
• Where is my tribute?
• Where are you taking me, human?
• What are "tummy skritches"?
• Why is this human rubbing my...my...my belly...oh...oh...this...I like this...more, human...yes...yes...yeeeeeeees...no, mortal, on my tummy!

Unfortunately, the baby Treecko was forced to withstand the torture of unoptimal petting for the entire walk home. And it was a long walk.

~~------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------~~

Treecko was fascinated by this human dwelling. You could learn many things about an inferior species by examining their territory, however insignificant it may be. For instance, the presence of a toilet indicates an imperfect immune system. To be ashamed of one's fecal matter must be a miserable existence, Treecko thought while investigating the couch. It was a nice couch. Mrs. Costa started to panic.

Sadly, before Treecko could make herself at home, Cory scooped Treecko up and carried her to his room. For it was time to get acquainted.

"Sooooo..." Cory said, kneeling down in front of Treecko. "Do yoooouuu...like this?" Cory dangled a length of string. Treecko contemplated this human's intelligence. Perhaps he needed a demonstration.

Treecko casually unsheathed a claw and then gently swung at the string. The string's lower half fell to the floor. Cory stopped and stared. Treecko smiled.

"I'm sorry," Cory said. Treecko froze, examined this pitiful human's facial expressions, then gave a low-pitched sigh. This wouldn't do. Too passive. He needed to learn.

Treecko picked the cut string half up off the ground and then offered it to the child. Cory hesitated. Treecko insisted. Cory took the string half from the not-dinosaur's palm and stared blankly at the two halves now in his hand. Treecko made a low moan, showed the child her right palm, and then clasped her three fingers as if holding something. She flipped her palm down and then shook her hand around, pointing at her clasped fingers with her other hand.

Cory, taking the hint, dangled the string halves. Treecko lined up her claws and then swung, once, twice, again and again and again, faster than Cory could track. The string cuts glided to the floor to form a pile of string bits.

Cory looked at the pile, his lungs accelerating just a tad. Treecko retracted her claws, grunted with pride, and held out an open palm. Cory looked at the palm, and then Treecko and Cory high-fived.

~~------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------~~

Dinner was unusual.

For starters, Mrs. Costa did not usually cook a full meal. She often worked late at the salon, precluding her from any serious food prep. This usually meant breakfast-for-dinner, as Mrs. Costa found stovetop cooking quick, the ingredients cheap, and the final product acceptable. But with the day off work and the pacifying-a-monster tax credit, Mrs. Costa could give her son a real dinner. Potatoes, pasta, herbs and spices, even a side of fruit salad. It was quite impressive, Mrs. Costa would've thought if she wasn't panicked about her son's war machine. The Kaijumon professor had said Treecko would eat anything. Mrs. Costa wondered if that included humans.

Indeed, Treecko had no qualms with a little meat in her diet. But like most specimens of the ruling class, she recognized the place of humanity. The mortals give her food and tummy rubs and let her eat on the couch, and she lets them continue their existence. Even if this meal was lacking in live feed. She could synthesize protein from the calories, but still. A monster's gotta have principles.

Treecko devoured her meal like a proud apex predator, licked up the scraps she had sprayed across the floor, and then waited for the humans to finish their allotted nutrients. Cory snuck Treecko his fruit salad. Treecko liked Cory. He was the best human.

Mrs. Costa turned the house television on, then changed to a specific channel. A serious-looking woman was sitting at a desk, speaking in a drab voice.
"...are still investigating, and church officials have pledged to tighten security." The camera cut to a new angle, the serious-looking woman turning as appropriate.

"And finally, this March's adoptions." Banners started popping up on screen. "Talia Dequin, for Mudkip. Mavuto Mayeso, for Torchic. And Cory Costa, for Treecko. May our lords accept our tribute-"
"Mom, look!" said Cory. Mother was already looking. Cory didn't care.
"...and good night, Hoenn." The camera transitioned to a slow dolly across the studio. Mrs. Costa changed the channel to a soothing, brainless, anxiety-reducing family sitcom she didn't even like. But it'd have to do.

Cory gave up on eating and started hand-feeding his friend. Treecko entertained the child and tried not to bite his delicious human fingers. Mrs. Costa felt like a parent watching their child put their fingers in a monster's mouth, because she was a parent watching her child put their fingers in a monster's mouth. Not that Mrs. Costa needed to worry. Treecko knew to be careful with her teeth. Severed digits would cause severe blood loss and possible loss of friendship. Besides, it'd be rude.

It was at this time that Cory had a revelation. It was something most unusual for Cory, a feeling that had been boiling to death like a frog in a crock pot. Cory, in the excitement of the day, had forgotten an activity most important. And now it had come to collect its dues.

"Potty!" Cory yelled, launching off the couch.
"It's called a bathroom!" Mrs. Costa called after her son. But he had already run out of the room. There was the slam of the bathroom/potty door, and then Treecko and Mrs. Costa were alone.

Treecko had never been alone. Well, Treecko wasn't alone — Mrs. Costa was right there, watching — but she didn't count. Treecko felt alone. Throughout her admittedly short life, Treecko had always enjoyed the attention of a caretaker. But now, sitting on the couch, Treecko's only attention came from the moving picture machine and someone else's parent. The pictures were boring. It was a nice couch.

"Don't you even think about it," Mrs. Costa said. And the force of the surprise knocked Treecko onto the floor. Treecko raised her head, and then Treecko looked at Mrs. Costa. Mrs. Costa looked at Treecko.

"I don't," said Mrs. Costa. She breathed and looked away. "I don't care what you are. You are going to take care of him, okay? I know you can understand me. I know you understand me." Mrs. Costa swallowed air, blinked, and then stared the monster in the eyes. Treecko looked away.

"Do you understand?" Mrs. Costa said. And Treecko didn't know what to do. "Do you understand?" Mrs. Costa said again for the final time. And then Treecko nodded. "Good." Mrs. Costa said.

Cory came barreling out of the bathroom. He scooped up his friend Treecko, forgot about his fruit salad, and carried Treecko to his room. Mrs. Costa watched them skip away. Treecko didn't look back.

~~------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------~~

Treecko was curled up at Cory's feet. They had been playing cards in Cory's bed when Cory just couldn't shuffle ("shuffle") again. Cory had laid down on the sheets, lights still on, and drifted into sleep before he knew it.

Now, Treecko didn't need to sleep — a being like herself had outgrown such requirements — but she wasn't oppossed to the idea. The temporary rationing of mental processes could be quite efficient, she supposed. And Cory could use the company.

And so, Treecko snuggled up against Cory and shut her eyes. And the next morning, Treecko was an inch taller.

Snuggle Tier List · Mar 13, 2019

~~------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------~~

Banner is original work by @Snuggle Tier List. Font is Medieval Scribish by St Rachan.

Mrs. Costa had gotten up at sunrise, well before her child. She actually woke much earlier, lying on the couch in the dark, but she couldn't get back to sleep. She saw the sun and snuck to her only child's bedroom, peeked inside, and saw he was still alive. Mrs. Costa watched for a minute just to make sure it was real, then got herself together and left for work.

Mrs. Costa did things at work, but she didn't care. She earned her paycheck, ignored her boss's quip about "the new pet", then ran out the door like a bat outta a shampoo station. She sprinted the entire way home, barged inside, then raced to her son's room. She stopped at the last inch, hesitated, and then opened the door.

Cory and Treecko paused their game of no-rules-charades to stare awkwardly at Mrs. Costa. Mrs. Costa saw her son alive, took an overdue breath, and then Mrs. Costa closed the door.

Humans are weird, Treecko thought. And then Treecko went back to being a pretend alien dinosaur dragon pirate for Cory.

~~------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------~~

Treecko's growth was subtle, considering her potential. A little more height every day, a little more girth, a little more muscle, a little more mass. Her jaws were growing a little more jagged, her teeth a little more edged. Her limbs thicker and more defined, her bushy tail more dense, her back oh-so-slightly arching. Treecko wouldn't be winning any beauty contests, but she could probably just eat the judges. Treecko could totally eat a judge, Treecko thought while playing checkers with a child. Treecko lost. Treecko let Cory win, of course.

Unfortunately for Cory, possession of a soon-to-be gorilla does not excuse oneself from schoolwork. The first at-home assignments were delivered on the third day. They would not be the last, no matter how much Cory protested. Mrs. Costa sat him and his beast on the couch, unplugged the television, gave her son his homework, and prayed. Not that the prayers were needed. Cory's teachers had been prepped on his situation, and they knew exactly how to handle it.

These papers, Treecko liked them. She liked them because they had pictures of Treecko. Big pictures! They may have been subtitled with trivial mental challenges, but Treecko was more than willing to humble these pious humans. With some assistance from a ten-year-old child, Treecko managed to complete elementary school homework with a divine 60% accuracy. Treecko was very smart. She knew she was smart. Of course she was smart. Treecko was very smart.

Treecko, in a fit of generosity, blessed the leading role to Cory. Cory, even though he needed Treecko's help (of course), managed to increase answer accuracy to an acceptable 97%. Cory then gathered the papers, handed his assignment to Mrs. Costa, and dragged Treecko to his room for checkers. Treecko let Cory win, of course.

~~------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------~~

By the fourth day, Treecko was taller than Cory. Just for fun, Treecko attempted to use the human toilet while she had the chance. It was a good attempt.

Treecko, being the courteous sort, decided to contain her situation out of the kindness of her heart. Treecko was very kind, yes. And so Treecko began the sterilization process by locating human cleaning tools. Not that she knew how to use them, but she was sure she could figure it out. Treecko was very smart, yes. She gently opened the cupboards just like Cory does, careful not to repeat last night's drawer incident, and then stared at the colorful bottles.

Treecko liked the orange bottle the best. It was see-through and pretty and had a fancy white lid. It contained little colored pellets that seemed edible, according to Treecko's snout. But most fascinatingly of all, this bottle had lots of funny-sounding big words on it. There was lora-something, sera-something, psycho-something, clona-something. And Cory Costa! This must have been Cory's bottle, and he must be very gifted to have such a fancy bottle.

Treecko took a rag of cloth from the cabinet, sliced off a square, started rubbing, and accidentally banged her elbow scales against the wall. Mrs. Costa opened the door, and then Mrs. Costa closed the door. Treecko, through her time and effort and genetic superiority, successfully wiped up all the poop. Treecko was very resourceful, yes.

"Treecko?" Cory called from his room. Softly, too soft for human ears, but Treecko wasn't human. Treecko deftly-ish maneuvered out of the bathroom and ran back to her friend.

~~------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------~~

Mrs. Costa was a smart woman. She knew the tradition, the commands of the unassailable titans. She knew what Treecko meant for her son, perhaps more than he did. Treecko needed a companion, a human for the monster to become comfortable with, a babysitter to placate Treecko's older relatives. And if Treecko wasn't getting the absolute best care possible, if she was to be given a simple doghouse instead of shown the world, if Cory was to stay behind when Treecko grew out of the house...well, it just wasn't an option. There was only one option.

Mrs. Costa placed her elbows on the kitchen counter, checked to see no one was in earshot, and cried. But Treecko wasn't human.

"What's wrong?" Cory said. They were on Cory's bed playing their traditional before-bed card game. Treecko looked around at nothing, and then Treecko leaned her head into Cory's chest. Not that Treecko was upset, of course. Treecko was just tired, yes. Treecko was very tired, yes.

Cory pet Treecko behind the ears and along the back of her neck, then shut off the lights.

~~------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------~~

It was the fifth day. Treecko had a growth spurt; she was as tall as a full-sized human and several times more massive. Treecko made thuds when she walked and could bite a man in half. But that evening, after another long day's work at the damned shampoo station, Mrs. Costa wasn't thinking about that.

There were humans outside. Treecko could hear eight or so, grown-ups, all strangers, emerging from a convoy of human automobiles. They had parked in the street out front and spread out, talking amongst themselves, some whispering, some rowdy, some slurred. Treecko could smell them, too. They smelled agitated.

Mrs. Costa saw them through a window, closed the curtains, then told Cory and Treecko to go play in their room. Of course, they were already going to do that, but then Mrs. Costa told them to. And Treecko was not one to be told what to do.

Cory, on the other hand, didn't like to get in trouble. Cory got in trouble a lot at his old school, before they moved him to the new school. And if there's one thing Cory learned at his old school, it's that he doesn't like to get in trouble. But Treecko had a different philosophy. Treecko was going to go outside, see for herself what's going on, and anyone that had a problem with that could take it up with her. And her claws, And her teeth. And her scales. Treecko liked being a monster, yes.

Out of respect for the poor Mrs. Costa, Treecko slipped out the back. Cory watched from his bedroom window as the scary lizard monster snaked their way towards the streetside commotion. Cory lost eyes on Treecko, and then there was yelling.

Cory heard Mrs. Costa's voice, muffled by the distance. Something shattered, loud. Treecko growled and took a beefy step onto concrete. Car engines started up. More yelling. Tires screeched, and then there was silence.

Silence, neverending silence. "It's okay," Cory whispered. "It's okay. It's okay."

Someone knocked on Cory's door, but Cory's body refused to move. The doorknob turned. The door creaked open. And then Treecko squeezed her way in. Cory ran to Treecko, opened his arms, and hugged her.

Treecko didn't need this affection — the beer bottles had bounced off her scales like flimsy flies — but Treecko accepted this tribute nevertheless. She let the human have his hug for as long as he wanted, and then Cory raced out to the living room.

Mrs. Costa was at the window. Or rather, where the window once was. She had just gotten her broom and dustpan ready to go, and then she saw her son. Cory hadn't done what she told him to do. Cory began to breathe, fast.

"It's fine," Mrs. Costa said. "Go back to your room." Cory took a step back and bumped into Treecko's belly. Mrs. Costa watched the two of them exchange a glance, and then Treecko looked at Mrs. Costa. "I don't think they're coming back," Mrs. Costa said, words aimed at her son but her eyes on Treecko. Treecko closed her eyes for the briefest of moments, breathed, smiled, and then Cory and Treecko went to play video games. Mrs. Costa had brought home a last-gen console today, and Cory (and Treecko) hadn't a chance to plug it in yet. They would have to make do with a thrift store television. It was perfect.

Mrs. Costa cleaned up the glass, made sure her home was presentable, and then calmly called the police. She didn't cry. She was done crying.

~~------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------~~

The police arrived, but the danger had passed. They checked for injuries, found none, and said hi to Treecko. Treecko grunted. Mrs. Costa gave the officers a description of the vehicles (no license plates — Mrs. Costa kicked herself for that) and the officers promised to keep in touch. They wouldn't.

Cory was seated at the table, arms folded politely. Treecko was twiddling her claws, trying not to make scary noises. The officers said goodbye and Cory's arms sloped to the side, his face rested on the tabletop.

Mrs. Costa saw the officers out and closed the door. Cory didn't move. Mrs. Costa pulled out a chair next to her son, sat down, glanced at Treecko, paused, and breathed.

"Cory," Mrs. Costa said, voice tender. "Some people don't like..." She looked for the right words. "Some people don't like things bigger than them." Treecko tried and failed to hold back a toothy smile. Mrs. Costa gave her a look. Treecko's smile evaporated.

"Some people," Mrs. Costa said, "They want to be the biggest people in the world, so they can do whatever they want and no one can stop them. So they go out and try to prove that they're the biggest people around. They...but I don't think you need to worry about that."

Cory raised his head. Mrs. Costa was looking at Treecko. Treecko's bottom lip was curved ever-so-slightly towards the floor, her breathing quick and heavy, her eyes darting around the room. If Treecko was a human, you might call her nervous. But Treecko was still a hulking monster tooth and claw, no matter which way you dice it. Not that Treecko was nervous, of course. She was just excited. That's it. Treecko was very excited, yes.

"You understand, Cory?" Mrs. Costa said. Cory almost smiled, but couldn't make it all the way. And then Cory nodded his head, and then Mrs. Costa leaned over to her son, and then they hugged.
"I'm sorry," Cory said. Cory was crying.
"It's okay," Mrs. Costa said.
"I'm sorry," Cory said.
"Don't-"
"I'm sorry."
And then Treecko growled.

Cory and Mrs. Costa turned their heads. Treecko was looking straight into Cory's eyes. And Treecko was looking an awful lot like a big, proud monster. A monster that saw two loyal humans in need of a blessing, because Treecko was a god or something like that. So she took her bulging arms, spread them wide, and then Treecko joined the hug. Treecko wasn't crying, she thought. Monsters never cry, she thought. She was just correcting her eye fluid levels, yes.

"I love you, Mom," Cory said. Treecko was crying.
"I love you, too." Mrs. Costa said, her brain on autopilot as the sobbing monster squeezed, and sobbed, and squeezed, but mostly sobbed. For three minutes. Mrs. Costa resisted, at first. But there was no escape. Resistance was futile, Mrs. Costa. Or so the Kaijumon professor would've told her. Probably. Mrs. Costa wanted a drink.

Eventually, smothered by the immovable arms of a bipedal forest gecko, Cory started to feel safe. His eyes ran dry, the burden of life on someone else's scaley shoulders. Treecko looked at her now-calm friend and relaxed her grip just a touch. And then Cory slipped out of the hug, and then Cory took Treecko's hand. They ran out back, a thud with each footstep, and then Cory built some piles of dirt.

"Bet you can't smash this!" Cory said, putting on his best brat impression. So Treecko did. Treecko crushed, stomped, ripped, and smashed apart the dirt towers, like an unstoppable kaiju tearing through a city. In that one brief moment, Treecko felt invincible. The tears stopped. Cory was the best human.

~~------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------~~

That night, Mrs. Costa had a phone call. Treecko was already curled in a nest of blankets laid against the bed, her snout snuggled into Cory's side as he laid proper in his bed. But Cory and Treecko weren't quite asleep. And the door to Cory's bedroom is quite thin.

Mrs. Costa tried to keep it down, but her anger got the better of her. She didn't scream, not quite, but the man on the phone got defensive. Alex said the usual; "Cory needs a father, Mary". "Cory needs stability, Mary". "You're taking my son from me, Mary." And then Alex mentioned "that monster", Alex said "that thing's threatening my son", Alex said he'd "done the right thing today, all us guys". Mrs. Costa fought it all, like a cornered animal watching her cubs get beat. Alex said he was "just trying to help, Mary". Alex said "I love you, Mary." And then Mary Costa hung up.

Mary peaked into Cory's room. The lights were out. Cory was under the blankets, eyes closed, head on his pillow. Treecko was sprawled out amongst her blankets, head rested on Cory's mattress, eyes closed. And Mrs. Costa closed the door.

That night, Cory took his blanket to the floor and curled up against Treecko. Treecko swished her blankets around him, and then the two of them fell asleep together.

~~------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------~~

That night, Treecko had a dream. Treecko wasn't supposed to have dreams, because Treecko wasn't supposed to sleep. Of course she shouldn't have been sleeping. She was a divine being of immense power, capable of millennia of activity without slumber. Yet there she was, curled up with her emotional support human, too afraid to do her job. That night, Treecko had a dream, and it was all her fault.

The cars had come back. There were more of them, lots more. Treecko growled and roared, but they didn't run away. They started throwing bottles, stones, dozens upon dozens upon dozens. Treecko shrugged off the assault and roared once more, but the stones were now a wall ramming into her scales. She pushed and clawed through the wall, but the stones didn't stop. Treecko pushed and pushed and pushed, clawed and clawed and clawed, but the wall was too strong. The wall fell on Treecko, crushing her beneath its might, and then Treecko woke up.

Cory was still asleep. It was pitch black, though Treecko's eyes didn't need light. Treecko wrapped her arm around Cory, closed her eyes, and tried to forget. But Treecko was afraid.

Treecko opened her eyes. They stayed open for the rest of the night, until Cory started to wake up. Treecko snapped her eyes shut and pretended to wake up with Cory. And Cory didn't suspect a thing.

Beth Pavell · Mar 13, 2019

So, I decided to give Chapter One a whirl, in an attempt to go back to my roots of, well, reviewing more in general, frankly. I'm going to dispense a little with my usual categorised approach to reviewing and go through my thoughts instead.

As far as the technical accuracy is concerned, I didn't spot any errors - if there were any, they were very very few. Fanfiction convention is to double-space between dialogue. It's not at all a rule, but I found readers asking repeatedly for it and in the long run it was no big deal for me to format that way. Personally I find either method just as readable.

Stylistically I would be able to tell this was a parody without anything in the introduction saying as much (I didn't read the summary in spoiler, by the way), which is a good sign. It's better than most Pokémon parodies I've seen - most of them are really just zany crackfics rather than parodies, per se. I suppose at this juncture I am rather sceptical that the joke has enough legs to last for a story. I'm quite sure if I kept coming across reruns of the "puny human" inner monologue the joke would get tired.

Snuggle Tier List · Mar 13, 2019

Hello! Thank you for the comment, been looking forward to getting an opinion from you, specifically. You have quite the rep.

Beth Pavell said:
Fanfiction convention is to double-space between dialogue. It's not at all a rule, but I found readers asking repeatedly for it and in the long run it was no big deal for me to format that way. Personally I find either method just as readable.

Interesting! I was not aware of this. I've never cared much for technicals myself, so I don't have any pride at stake. I'll see if I can slip in an edit quick.

Though, could I ask you to clarify? For instance, do you mean dialogue between different characters? Dialogue in the same sentence as non-dialogue? Again, I'm not aware of the convention. Speak to me like I'm five.

Beth Pavell said:
Stylistically I would be able to tell this was a parody without anything in the introduction saying as much (I didn't read the summary in spoiler, by the way), which is a good sign. It's better than most Pokémon parodies I've seen - most of them are really just zany crackfics rather than parodies, per se. I suppose at this juncture I am rather sceptical that the joke has enough legs to last for a story. I'm quite sure if I kept coming across reruns of the "puny human" inner monologue the joke would get tired.

I'm happy to report the joke, while it'll still be present in some form, is not the focus of the entire story. In fact, I wasn't expecting the parody label. Satire, maybe; parody, no. Let's say Treecko isn't as godly as she thinks she is, and she's slowly learning it over time as she struggles to rationalize what's in front of her eyes. You might find CH2 Treecko more tolerable than CH1 Treecko. I'll say no more for fear of spoilers.

Though I do have to ask; you say this fic was better than most Pokémon parodies you've seen. But what's the bar, here? Is "better" good? Have you enjoyed reading so far? You say it's a parody; have I made you laugh?

Regardless, thank you for your time. I'm adding you to the Special Thanks section up top. Though this is just a friendly heads-up; I don't distinguish when giving thanks.

Snuggle Tier List · Mar 17, 2019

~~------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------~~

Banner is original work by @Snuggle Tier List. Font is Medieval Scribish by St Rachan.

On the sixth day, a miracle happened. Treecko didn't grow. But Treecko didn't mind. That morning, just at the break of dawn, still snuggled with Cory in her nest of blankets, Treecko created a secret. It wasn't a very secret secret — the professor at the Kaijumon lab had warned the neighborhood weeks ago — but for Treecko, it was a secret nonetheless. Treecko had a secret, yes, and Cory would know her secret.

Treecko, with the combined power of monster grunting and hand gestures, woke Cory from his naive dreams and guided him outside to the dirt lot. It was quite the large lot, scattered grass in a flat square, enough to fit a big ol' villa and then some. Perhaps this lot was once a forest that went through some tough times. Or maybe some business-type wanted to build a neighborhood and lost interest at step one. But right here, right now, it didn't matter. It was perfect.

First, Cory needed to be at a safe distance. Treecko was confident she could make it work regardless, but this was her first time and she didn't want to accidentally hurt Cory. Thus, Treecko built Cory a dirt sitting-hump in exchange for some ear skritches (Treecko likes ear skritches). Treecko put some space between her and Cory, exhaled like a rocket launcher, closed her eyes, and let it happen.

It wasn't painful, stressful, or even tense. Indeed, Treecko felt relaxed, aware, even a little euphoric. Her heart pounded like a drum, her nerves tingled like lightning. Treecko clenched her fists, tilted her jaws just the slightest bit upward, and felt the weight flow.

The weight pushed and pulled, packing her muscles and bones while swelling her chest and limbs. Her hunch accentuated as more and more of the world fell below her snout. She felt her tail pushing along the dirt, packing the earth under its weight. She curled her toes and dug trenches, released the strain and flung dirt. With every second, she felt gravity more and more, until she stretched her back and lifted gravity away. She gave one final booming exhale, looked down, and smiled for her audience.

Cory was excited. He was other things, too, but mostly excited. He sunk into that dirt mound, craned his head as high as it could go, and tried to comprehend Treecko's new size. Fifty feet, maybe? A hundred? Cory didn't have a ruler. She was under the clouds, at least. Cory's brain looped the same futile comparisons over and over and over, until his brain-nerves short circuited. Cory was excited, and that was all his brain could handle.

Treecko saw Cory down there, his little jaw open. It would take him quite a while to process, Treecko thought. Let's speed it up.

Treecko stretched her arms back, felt her muscles awaken, and then reached down. She extended her palm to just a few meters from Cory and then, with the grace of a born physics-defier, scooped Cory into her bowl of a hand. She tilted him into the bed of her palm like a marble in her hand, then gently raised her arms. She brought Cory to eye level and gave him a smirk. Cory's pupils were the size of the moon.

Treecko tilted her head down. She moved her palm to the top of her head, and then Cory Costa was riding a giant monster. "Woah," Cory whispered, bracing himself between two of Treecko's new spikes as if they were reins. Ideas overloaded Cory's brainspace. Treecko smiled.

Unfortunately, riding a giant monster through downtown would cause some problems. Treecko was at an impasse. There needed to be a finisher, a big finale, one final show of force to complete the tour. She thought long and hard, and then Treecko had an idea.

Treecko inhaled a gale, held the storm inside for just a second, and then roared. Not too loud — she didn't want to hurt Cory's human eardrums — but the rumble was unmistakable. The echo rolled across the horizon like a tsunami of sound, flowing past ears like an endless waterfall. But the waterfall did end, the world left as silent as ever. That morning, in that dirt lot, Cory and Treecko ruled the world. Close enough, Treecko thought.

But something continued to echo. Sound was rushing past, but Treecko's maw was shut. There was something else. Someone else. From beyond the horizon came one roar, then two, and then a cacophony of roars from all directions. Distant, origins beyond even Treecko's senses. Welcome, they were saying. You are not alone. And Treecko felt small.

She could feel Cory's pulls on her spikes, like the reins of a saddle. Treecko lowered her head to the ground, tilted ever-so-slightly down, and guided Cory as he slowly slid into the dirt. He landed on his butt with the force of a feather, rotated around, and then Cory was looking at a giant monster. Treecko looked at Cory. Cory looked at Treecko. "Hi," Cory said, barely pushing the words out. Treecko gave Cory a nod, then closed her eyes and let her weight float away.

~~------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------~~

As a general rule, downsizing is less exciting. Treecko was no exception. It was harder on Treecko's end, returning to her smaller-but-still-brutish form, but it just didn't carry that same wow factor. Still, it made Cory say "you can do that, too?". Treecko counted that as a win.

But Treecko wasn't done yet. There was one more form for Cory, one she wasn't quite sure what to make of. She closed her eyes once more, let the weight slip again, and felt...powerlessness? Nostalgia? Comfort? Treecko couldn't pin it down. For Treecko was the size of herself when she left the lab, when she was carried home by Cory to play with string and cards. Treecko missed those tummy skritches. Cory picked her up and gave her tummy skritches. Cory was the best human.

Cory, his friend cradled in his arms, carried her inside to his room. They sprawled out in the mess of blankets, got comfortable, and played outdated video games together.

~~------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------~~

"Mom, look!" Cory said. But Mary was already looking.

Cory, for the first time in six days, was wearing his backpack. It was a weird little sack, a squarish box of cheap plastic with one oversized button flap at the top. And within that flap, peaking her head out above Cory's, was Treecko. Treecko liked the carriage, yes.

It was late in the day, late enough for Mary to finally be home. She was looking at a Treecko that was a lot smaller than when she left, which made today's trip to the grocery store awfully pointless. You would've thought Treecko's...announcement this morning would've meant something. Still, the whole size-shifting thing could wait. There was business to attend to.

"Cory,“ Mary said, placing a brown bag of groceries on the counter. "Could you get the last bag? I put it down at the mailbox." And then: "I'd like to talk to Treecko.“

Maybe another kid would've started a protest, but Cory didn't like to get in trouble. Cory twisted his head around to give Treecko a tepid look. Treecko gave Cory a tepid nod. Cory took off his backpack, placed it on the ground, and then Cory rushed outside to bring in the groceries. Mary and Treecko were alone. There was something in Mary's hand.

"Can you read?" Mary said. What a silly question, Treecko thought while slowly sinking into the bag. Of course I can read! Treecko nodded to Mary and remembered to breathe, then stepped out of the bag.

"Here," Mary said. She held out a letter-sized envelop to the monster. Treecko stood still. "Take it," Mary said, jostling the envelop. It sounded like paper. Treecko leaned in, closed her eyes, and snatched the envelop.

FOR TREECKO

"You mouthed the words," Mary said with an uncontained smirk, only to remember she's talking to a monster. But Treecko's mind was already occupied. A letter! Treecko knew what letters were, but she certainly wasn't expecting one for herself. She preferred more efficient forms of communication, like grunts and growls. Not that puny humans would understand, what with their language and writing and long words. Treecko didn't like long words. This letter better not have long words, Treecko thought while staring at the letter. How humans developed the processes for-

"Do you need me to open it?" Mary said from a safe distance. Treecko shook her head and stared at the letter. Of course I could open the letter, Treecko thought while not opening the letter. There were confusing folds, but Treecko had claws. Treecko liked having claws. She just needed to use them. Treecko would open the letter. Yes, that is what she would do. Treecko stared at the letter.

Cory rocketed into the room, placing his grocery bag on the counter before Mary could process. Within seconds, he was by Treecko's side, staring at the letter with her. Treecko sighed with relief.
"That letter's for Treecko," Mary said. But then Treecko gave the letter to Cory. Cory hesitated, Treecko grunted, and then the letter was both of theirs.

"No, no, no," Mary said. And then Cory and Treecko looked at Mary. Mary looked away.
"Mom," Cory said, sitting cross-legged on the floor. "Are you okay?" And for the briefest moment, Mary couldn't answer.
"I'm fine," Mary said. "It's okay. Open it." But she was looking at the floor. She tilted her head up and smiled for her child.

Cory took the lie. He held the letter in front of Treecko and Treecko ran a claw along the bottom. A piece a paper dropped to the floor. Cory read it out loud, for Treecko. Cory was so polite, Treecko thought.

HELLO TREECKO

WE ARE THE KAIJUMON LEAGUE. WE WOULD LIKE TO SEE YOU TOMORROW. WE WANT TO MAKE YOU BIG AND STRONG! PLEASE SEE US TOMORROW.

"Um..." Cory said.
"I got a letter too, with all the details." Mary said. "They'll train you-" And then Mary skipped a breath.
"Are you okay, Mom?" Cory said. Treecko sniffed the air and didn't detect any toxins.
"I'm fine," Mary said. "Would you two like to go, when I get home from work?" Mary was trying to keep eye contact, but she had to close her eyes. You can't cry if you close your eyes.

Cory didn't know what to do, so he looked at Treecko. Treecko didn't know what to do, so she nodded.
"Perfect," Mrs. Costa said, smiling. But just because you're smiling doesn't mean you're happy.

"Mom," Cory said.
"Yes, Cory?"
"I love you."

Mary couldn't take it anymore. She walked up to her son, not even caring about the monster by his side, and then Cory and Mary Costa hugged.
"I love you, too," Mary said.

~~------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------~~

Cory and Treecko didn't play games that night. They were too busy thinking. It looked like they were sitting, but they were thinking. And thinking is hard work.

Cory felt like he was in trouble. He didn't know why, which was weird, as it usually was his fault. That's what his teachers would tell him, anyways. And he didn't want to get in trouble, so he always believed his teachers. But now? There was no one to tell him it was his fault. And Cory didn't know what to think.

Treecko stayed close to Cory the entire night. When he went to take his pill, Treecko followed him to the bathroom. When he climbed onto his bed, Treecko jumped up with him. When he couldn't get to sleep, Treecko stayed awake. Cory and Treecko laid there in the bed, lights off, door closed, sheets pulled tight, and Cory and Treecko didn't know what to think.

"Treecko," Cory whispered. "I'm scared." And Treecko wanted to say it's okay. She wanted to say Cory was the best human, and that everyone else was just monster poop. She wanted to speak to Cory more than anything else in the world, vocal cords be damned. So she did.

"Cory," Treecko rasped out. Her throat was burning. She tasted blood. Cory raised in bed, let his mouth hang open, and pinned his eyes on Treecko's mouth. But Treecko couldn't handle any more words. So she smiled as much as she could, calmed herself, and snuggled her head onto Cory's side. And Cory felt needed.

Cory stopped blaming himself. Treecko needed him to. He fell back on his pillow, closed his eyes, and drifted into sleep. Treecko watched the door until the sun came up, then shut her eyes and pretended to wake with Cory.

Beth Pavell · Mar 17, 2019

Snuggle Tier List said:
Though, could I ask you to clarify? For instance, do you mean dialogue between different characters? Dialogue in the same sentence as non-dialogue? Again, I'm not aware of the convention. Speak to me like I'm five.

Best way I can illustrate it is practically. Take this dialogue here:

Snuggle Tier List said:
"And finally, this March's adoptions." Banners started popping up on screen. "Talia Dequin, for Mudkip. Mavuto Mayeso, for Torchic. And Cory Costa, for Treecko. May our lords accept our tribute-"
"Mom, look!" said Cory. Mother was already looking. Cory didn't care.
"...and good night, Hoenn." The camera transitioned to a slow dolly across the studio. Mrs. Costa changed the channel to a soothing, brainless, anxiety-reducing family sitcom she didn't even like. But it'd have to do.

Fanfic convention would be to format it like this:

Snuggle Tier List said:
"And finally, this March's adoptions." Banners started popping up on screen. "Talia Dequin, for Mudkip. Mavuto Mayeso, for Torchic. And Cory Costa, for Treecko. May our lords accept our tribute-"

"Mom, look!" said Cory. Mother was already looking. Cory didn't care.

"...and good night, Hoenn." The camera transitioned to a slow dolly across the studio. Mrs. Costa changed the channel to a soothing, brainless, anxiety-reducing family sitcom she didn't even like. But it'd have to do.

Snuggle Tier List said:
Though I do have to ask; you say this fic was better than most Pokémon parodies you've seen. But what's the bar, here? Is "better" good? Have you enjoyed reading so far? You say it's a parody; have I made you laugh?

For context, making me laugh is quite difficult to do. Most Pokémon parodies are written by authors who don't really know what parody is, or at least, they think it begins and ends with zaniness. It seemed to me that you'd actually thought about what you were lampooning. That's what makes it better - and I will say significantly better - than most Pokémon parodies I've seen

Snuggle Tier List · Mar 18, 2019

@Beth Pavell Hmm. For the dialogue example you used, I wanted to convey a fast pace conversation. If I double-spaced between dialogue, I'd lose out on that tool. I wouldn't be able to do, say, this:

Some guy I know said:
Mrs. Costa swallowed air, blinked, and then stared the monster in the eyes. Treecko looked away.

"Do you understand?" Mrs. Costa said. And Treecko didn't know what to do. "Do you understand?" Mrs. Costa said again for the final time. And then Treecko nodded. "Good." Mrs. Costa said.

The gap between "Treecko look away" and "'Do you understand?'", to me, implies a pause. Looking back, I think something like this would've worked even better:

Some guy I know said:
Mrs. Costa swallowed air, blinked, and then stared the monster in the eyes. Treecko looked away.

"Do you understand?" Mrs. Costa said. And Treecko didn't know what to do. "Do you understand?" Mrs. Costa said again for the final time. And then Treecko nodded.

"Good." Mrs. Costa said.

To me, the pause between Treecko nodding and Mrs. Costa speaking would've implied Mrs. Costa was willing to slow the conversation down when her question was answered, while the simple period between Treecko's hesitation and Mrs. Costa repeating the question would've implied she's not waiting for Treecko to think of an answer. Which would've said a lot about Mrs. Costa's opinion of Treecko (and Treecko's opinion of themselves, for that matter). In other words, Treecko might be everyone else's god, but the paragraph breaks when Mrs. Costa says it breaks.

It's a technique that comes from my poetry roots, where implying pacing through grammah is really important. While I scream "technicals don't matter", I suppose I mean "style guides shouldn't be law." Grammah has its uses, but between you and me and the internet, I don't think any singular style guide should be accepted without caveats. Grammah should be a tool, not a rule. And that's an interesting belief I just discovered I held; thank you for your reply!

Snuggle Tier List · Mar 20, 2019

~~------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------~~

Banner is original work by @Snuggle Tier List. Font is Medieval Scribish by St Rachan.

One week. The professor had said one week. Any longer, and Treecko would've gotten restless. And she was, a little. Monsters like herself are born to roam, to patrol their territory that is the planet. But Treecko wouldn't mind settling down. The Costa household wasn't her natural habitat, sure. She wasn't hunting for prey or conquering territory, razing civilizations or ruling as god-empress. Treecko could do all of those things, yes. But being a god sounds like a lot of work. Treecko preferred a more casual godhood, one where she played all day and got to have friends.

Not that Cory knew this, at least for now. They were talking now, mostly about Treecko. Treecko liked talking about Treecko, but phonetics was hard. Painful, even. The vocal cords of a monster were meant for roars, not small talk with children. So Treecko paced herself, kept her answers short, used grunts if she needed. Cory caught on quick, limiting his questions to every so often. They would get to know each other, but it wouldn't be happening overnight. Although, perhaps they didn't know themselves as much as they thought.

"Where's your mom?" Cory had said. And Treecko didn't know.
"I-" Treecko said, only to start coughing.
"It's okay," Cory said, genuine, innocent, unaware. "We can talk later." The two of them went back to video games. And Treecko felt small. Again.

~~------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------~~

Of all the people in the household, Mary knew the most. She didn't know everything — sometimes, she wished she knew nothing — but Mary knew enough. Enough to know where her child was summoned. Enough to know where he was going tonight. Enough to know what came next.

On the seventh day, when Mary came home from work, Mary called one last meeting. Everyone gathered around the couch while Mary passed plastic glasses of lemonade-flavored water. Treecko was a lizard gorilla again, to ease the trachea.

"Hi," Treecko the rip-a-man-in-half bipedal forest gecko said.
"Oh," Mary said. She sipped from her plastic cup. "That's new."
"Are you mad?" Cory said, sinking into the couch, clutching his pseudo-lemonade with both hands. Treecko hovered over Cory from behind the couch as Mary sat down.

"I'm not mad, Cory," Mary said over a hint of laughter. "Just a little tired." Mary sipped from her cup. It wasn't a real drink, but she pretended it was. Maybe this could be a night off, from a certain point of view. But Mary knew better. There was business to attend to.

"So, Cory," Mary said. "Treecko." Treecko grunted, then sipped from the plastic cup like the humans were doing. Treecko was very sociable, yes. And then Treecko swallowed the cup.
"No, no!" Cory said, the ten-year-old child taking control of the situation. "Spit it out!" And then Treecko spat the already-half-dissolved cup onto the couch, complete with sizzling saliva and chunks of monster bile. It had been a nice couch.
"Sorry," Cory said.
"Sorry," Treecko said, but with a slightly larger pair of lungs.

The meeting was put on hold while Mary purged the contaminants. Despite spending precious seconds on stunned disbelief, Mary was able to remove the afflicted cushions before the fluids seeped deep. Losses totaled at two cushions, one pillow, one blanket. The casualties were laid out on the side of the road outside, the blanket draped over them out of respect. Garbage day was yesterday. Mary cleaned and disinfected ground zero in case of unaccounted-for moisture, then took a shower. Cory waited on the one remaining couch cushion, Treecko the hulk curled up on the floor. And then Treecko had an idea.

Treecko squeezed herself outside and stomped over to the casualties. Personally, she didn't mind the smell — in fact, Treecko the monster liked spreading her scent. But the puny humans had difficulties inhaling her musk, and she supposed she could help them out. And so Treecko grabbed the casualties, shoved them in her mouth, chewed, and swallowed. Situation contained, yes.

~~------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------~~

"So," Mary said, sitting on a pillow that had been promoted to couch cushion. "Cory and Treecko." Treecko was curled up on the floor like a scaley green mastiff the size of a horse. Cory was sitting on the only cushion to survive. No one was drinking lemonade.

"How about," Mary said, pausing for an exhale. "How about, before we go to the Kaijumon League, we make a plan?" She checked the time. "But a simple plan!" Mary said. "Just in case anything happened." Mary was trying to speak slowly, but the clock vetoed.

"Do you know what to do if you get in trouble?" Mary said. Treecko nodded. Cory shook his head. Mary winced in mental pain. "All you need to do," Mary said, "Is say, 'I'm sorry'. And..." Mary looked at Treecko. "Go easy. Please."
"Okay," Cory said. And then Treecko nodded.
"Thank you," Mary said. "Let's go."

~~------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------~~

Mary's letter had told her that her "chosen child and their partner" could drop by "at the most convenient time, within reason". That time turned out to be sunset, even with their brisk walking pace. Cory had packed his backpack with snacks and his medication in the side pockets, Treecko in her carriage. On Mary's recommendation, Treecko stayed underneath the backpack flap, though she'd peek out when Cory whispered it was safe. They turned it into an impromptu game of Red Light Green Light, with Mary's gaze being the red light. Mary pretended not to notice. Treecko and Cory pretended they hadn't been found out. Cory and Treecko giggled the entire walk. Mary heard her son laugh and couldn't help but be happy. For once. Mary felt happy. What an odd feeling, happiness.

The League's office was about as subtle as the kaiju it represented. Long and tall, with a set of stairs leading up to a set of double doors detailed with monster effigies. Plus stone status of great beasts posing like they just conquered the planet, because of course. The roof was slanted like a church. Which it was, though it wasn't the kind that held masses. This was the church where immortal beings of immense power offered their advice, in exchange for friendship and tummy skritches. The building was two hundred years old. Humanity still didn't understand.

"Cory," Mary Costa said. She had stopped at the base of the stairs, causing her duckling to stop behind her. "Are you ready?" Mary said. Cory nodded his head, lying. Mary sighed, knelt to her ten-year-old son's height, and gave him a hug.

"You're going to be okay," Mary Costa said.
"I know, Mom," Cory Costa said.
"You're going to be okay," Mary Costa said.
"Mom, I know," Cory Costa said.
"You're going to be okay," Mary Costa said.
Cory Costa was silent.
"You're going to be okay," Mary Costa said.
"It's okay, Mom." Cory Costa said.

Mary Costa didn't want to let go. But she had to. She blinked away the water running from her eyes, breathed, and she let her son go.

"Do you want to come with me, Mom?" Cory said. And Mary choked. She gagged once, put a hand on her stomach, felt the ground beneath her feet, saw the cathedral up above, and accepted the world.

"This is for you," Mary said. "I can't, they don't let me. It's okay. Go." And Cory didn't know what to do.
"I love you, Mom," Cory said.
"I love you, too," Mrs. Costa said.

Cory walked up the stone steps between the statues of proud beasts. Step by step, step by step, step by step. Cory Costa reached the detailed double doors, turned around, and saw Mrs. Costa wave. Cory put his small shaky arms on the left door, pushed, and then Cory Costa went inside.

Mrs. Costa was alone. She had never been alone before. There were strangers, the occasional pedestrians walking by, but they didn't count. Mrs. Costa felt alone.

Mrs. Costa watched the door. No one entered. No one left. She had been told her son would be in there "for quite some time", her letter said. "Your son will be provided with a phone (if they do not already have one) and will contact you as soon as orientation is completed. It will likely take some time, upwards of three hours."

Mary Costa had work tomorrow. The sun had set. She needed to be at work in nine hours. Her boss had requested she come early, to attend a training. Mary Costa had already completed this training. So her boss was making her the instructor. Mary Costa had work in nine hours. Mrs. Costa watched the door.

Mrs. Costa waited for thirty minutes. The doors to the church remained shut.

Mrs. Costa waited for one hour. The doors to the church remained shut.

Mrs. Costa waited for two hours. The doors to the church remained shut. So Mrs. Costa climbed the steps and pushed the door. The door was locked.

Mrs. Costa was crying. She needed a minute. She spotted a rock on the ground. There were windows, giant stained panes, impossible to miss. Mary Costa picked up the rock. She breathed. And then Mrs. Costa went back home.

~~------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------~~

At hour three, Mrs. Costa was in bed. But she couldn't go to sleep. It wasn't all that late in the night, all things considered. But it was too late.

And then, Mrs. Costa received a call.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Mom!"
"Cory! How are you? Where are you? Are you okay?" But that was too many questions for Cory Costa. He needed time to think.

"Cory!" Mrs. Costa screamed.
"It's okay, Mom." And Mrs. Costa tried not to cry. She though she was done crying. Everybody thinks they're done crying.

"Are you okay, Mom?" Cory asked. And Mrs. Costa knew her son. She knew what space he must be in to ask a question like that. But she doubted herself.

"I'm fine," Mrs. Costa said. "How was your day?" And Cory Costa talked on and on about all the things he'd done, the things he seen. There was this big underground place, with plants and stuff, and he'd met a dragon, like, a real dragon. And he asked her (the dragon was a girl) so many questions, and the dragon had given so many answers. And it took so long, they didn't have time for anything else! So they used this capsule ball thing and made a tent, and he and Treecko were sleeping in the big underground place. But the human at the place, they had one human at the place, but only one human at the place, their name was Park. Park had given him a phone before bed. And Park gave him Mary Costa's number, and Park said to call you, Mom. To say that everything was fine, and that I'd be leaving for more training in the morning.

"So I'm fine, Mom," Cory said. And for some reason, this made Mary Costa cry. But Mrs. Costa smiled.

"Okay," Mrs. Costa said. She tried to say more. "Good night, Cory." And then: "I love you."
"I love you too, Mom."

~~|------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------|~~

Snuggle Tier List · Mar 20, 2019

"Life doesn't happen in chapters -- at least, not regular ones. Nor do movies. Homer didn't write in chapters. I can see what their purpose is in children's books ("I'll read to the end of the chapter, and then you must go to sleep") but I'm blessed if I know what function they serve in books for adults."

—Terry Pratchett, Interview by Gavin J. Grant for IndieBound.org

START~~----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------~~START

Banner is transformation of Behemoth and Leviathan by William Blake. Font is Kaiju Monster G by Goma Shin.

Cory Costa, a ten-year-old child with no formal training, was to adopt one of three newborn giant monsters. Mrs. Costa was less than thrilled. Her concerns, in no particular order:

• Crushing
• Stomping
• Skewering
• Devouring
• Excessive squeezing
• Suffocation
• Amputation
• Decapitation
• Incineration
• Total annihilation
• Her ex complaining about her parenting again
• Someone saying "what could go wrong?"
• And monster poop on her new couch (it's a nice couch)

Despite these minor concerns, when the Kaijumon League deemed Mrs. Costa's only child a perfect candidate to raise a god, Mrs. Costa gracefully accepted. After all, the monsters just want friends, Mrs. Costa. Don't be anxious, Mrs. Costa. You don't want to make them angry, Mrs. Costa.

Cory, a ten-year-old child, had different concerns:

• COOL
• How big will it be?
• Will it think I'm cool?
• Can it breathe fire?
• Can it breathe acid?
• Can it fly?
• Can I ride on its back?
• How fast will it go?
• Does it eat people?
• Does it roar?
• Does it do that stomp thing where the ground shakes and there're cracks in the ground and it's really cool?
• Will this get me out of school?

Now, Cory could've asked these questions at any time. Or he could've picked the Kaijumon that looked like a dinosaur and assumed everything would be fine, because Cory was a ten-year-old child with no idea what he's doing. And she wasn't a dinosaur, Treecko's a bipedal forest gecko, but pedantics wasn't Cory's strong suit.

And so, Cory and Mrs. Costa walked home from the Littleroot Kaijumon Lab, Cory cradling his new partner Treecko. She was small now, just a newborn, but give her a couple days and she'll start showing her true colors. Or so the very helpful Kaijumon professor testified, at least. But there was no reason to be scared, so long as Treecko got plenty of food and love and care and food and fealty and food. You see, Mrs. Costa, Treecko was kind and gentle and friendly and bulletproof and immortal and is going to grow into a giant monster, please don't make her angry. Mrs. Costa had smiled, nodded, and clenched her child's hand.

Treecko had some thoughts on the situation:

• Who is this pathetic mortal?
• Why isn't he kneeling?
• Where is my tribute?
• Where are you taking me, human?
• What are "tummy skritches"?
• Why is this human rubbing my...my...my belly...oh...oh...this...I like this...more, human...yes...yes...yeeeeeeees...no, mortal, on my tummy!

Unfortunately, the baby Treecko was forced to withstand the torture of unoptimal petting for the entire walk home. And it was a long walk.

1~~----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------~~1

Treecko was fascinated by this human dwelling. You could learn many things about an inferior species by examining their territory, however insignificant it may be. For instance, the presence of a toilet indicates an imperfect immune system. To be ashamed of one's fecal matter must be a miserable existence, Treecko thought while investigating the couch. It was a nice couch. Mrs. Costa started to panic.

Sadly, before Treecko could make herself at home, Cory scooped Treecko up and carried her to his room. For it was time to get acquainted.

"Sooooo..." Cory said, kneeling down in front of Treecko. "Do yoooouuu...like this?" Cory dangled a length of string. Treecko contemplated this human's intelligence. Perhaps he needed a demonstration.

Treecko casually unsheathed a claw and then gently swung at the string. The string's lower half fell to the floor. Cory stopped and stared. Treecko smiled.

"I'm sorry," Cory said. Treecko froze, examined this pitiful human's facial expressions, then gave a low-pitched sigh. This wouldn't do. Too passive. He needed to learn.

Treecko picked the cut string half up off the ground and then offered it to the child. Cory hesitated. Treecko insisted. Cory took the string half from the not-dinosaur's palm and stared blankly at the two halves now in his hand. Treecko made a low moan, showed the child her right palm, and then clasped her three fingers as if holding something. She flipped her palm down and then shook her hand around, pointing at her clasped fingers with her other hand.

Cory, taking the hint, dangled the string halves. Treecko lined up her claws and then swung, once, twice, again and again and again, faster than Cory could track. The string cuts glided to the floor to form a pile of string bits.

Cory looked at the pile, his lungs accelerating just a tad. Treecko retracted her claws, grunted with pride, and held out an open palm. Cory looked at the palm, and then Treecko and Cory high-fived.

2~~----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------~~2

Dinner was unusual.

For starters, Mrs. Costa did not usually cook a full meal. She often worked late at the salon, precluding her from any serious food prep. This usually meant breakfast-for-dinner, as Mrs. Costa found stovetop cooking quick, the ingredients cheap, and the final product acceptable. But with the day off work and the pacifying-a-monster tax credit, Mrs. Costa could give her son a real dinner. Potatoes, pasta, herbs and spices, even a side of fruit salad. It was quite impressive, Mrs. Costa would've thought if she wasn't panicked about her son's war machine. The Kaijumon professor had said Treecko would eat anything. Mrs. Costa wondered if that included humans.

Indeed, Treecko had no qualms with a little meat in her diet. But like most specimens of the ruling class, she recognized the place of humanity. The mortals give her food and tummy rubs and let her eat on the couch, and she lets them continue their existence. Even if this meal was lacking in live feed. She could synthesize protein from the calories, but still. A monster's gotta have principles.

Treecko devoured her meal like a proud apex predator, licked up the scraps she had sprayed across the floor, and then waited for the humans to finish their allotted nutrients. Cory snuck Treecko his fruit salad. Treecko liked Cory. He was the best human.

Mrs. Costa turned the house television on, then changed to a specific channel. A serious-looking woman was sitting at a desk, speaking in a drab voice.
"...are still investigating, and church officials have pledged to tighten security." The camera cut to a new angle, the serious-looking woman turning as appropriate.

"And finally, this March's adoptions." Banners started popping up on screen. "Talia Dequin, for Mudkip. Mavuto Mayeso, for Torchic. And Cory Costa, for Treecko. May our lords accept our tribute-"
"Mom, look!" said Cory. Mother was already looking. Cory didn't care.
"...and good night, Hoenn." The camera transitioned to a slow dolly across the studio. Mrs. Costa changed the channel to a soothing, brainless, anxiety-reducing family sitcom she didn't even like. But it'd have to do.

Cory gave up on eating and started hand-feeding his friend. Treecko entertained the child and tried not to bite his delicious human fingers. Mrs. Costa felt like a parent watching their child put their fingers in a monster's mouth, because she was a parent watching her child put their fingers in a monster's mouth. Not that Mrs. Costa needed to worry. Treecko knew to be careful with her teeth. Severed digits would cause severe blood loss and possible loss of friendship. Besides, it'd be rude.

It was at this time that Cory had a revelation. It was something most unusual for Cory, a feeling that had been boiling to death like a frog in a crock pot. Cory, in the excitement of the day, had forgotten an activity most important. And now it had come to collect its dues.

"Potty!" Cory yelled, launching off the couch.
"It's called a bathroom!" Mrs. Costa called after her son. But he had already run out of the room. There was the slam of the bathroom/potty door, and then Treecko and Mrs. Costa were alone.

Treecko had never been alone. Well, Treecko wasn't alone — Mrs. Costa was right there, watching — but she didn't count. Treecko felt alone. Throughout her admittedly short life, Treecko had always enjoyed the attention of a caretaker. But now, sitting on the couch, Treecko's only attention came from the moving picture machine and someone else's parent. The pictures were boring. It was a nice couch.

"Don't you even think about it," Mrs. Costa said. And the force of the surprise knocked Treecko onto the floor. Treecko raised her head, and then Treecko looked at Mrs. Costa. Mrs. Costa looked at Treecko.

"I don't," said Mrs. Costa. She breathed and looked away. "I don't care what you are. You are going to take care of him, okay? I know you can understand me. I know you understand me." Mrs. Costa swallowed air, blinked, and then stared the monster in the eyes. Treecko looked away.

"Do you understand?" Mrs. Costa said. And Treecko didn't know what to do. "Do you understand?" Mrs. Costa said again for the final time. And then Treecko nodded. "Good." Mrs. Costa said.

Cory came barreling out of the bathroom. He scooped up his friend Treecko, forgot about his fruit salad, and carried Treecko to his room. Mrs. Costa watched them skip away. Treecko didn't look back.

3~~----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------~~3

Treecko was curled up at Cory's feet. They had been playing cards in Cory's bed when Cory just couldn't shuffle ("shuffle") again. Cory had laid down on the sheets, lights still on, and drifted into sleep before he knew it.

Now, Treecko didn't need to sleep — a being like herself had outgrown such requirements — but she wasn't oppossed to the idea. The temporary rationing of mental processes could be quite efficient, she supposed. And Cory could use the company.

And so, Treecko snuggled up against Cory and shut her eyes. And the next morning, Treecko was an inch taller.

4~~----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------~~4

Mrs. Costa had gotten up at sunrise, well before her child. She actually woke much earlier, lying on the couch in the dark, but she couldn't get back to sleep. She saw the sun and snuck to her only child's bedroom, peeked inside, and saw he was still alive. Mrs. Costa watched for a minute just to make sure it was real, then got herself together and left for work.

Mrs. Costa did things at work, but she didn't care. She earned her paycheck, ignored her boss's quip about "the new pet", then ran out the door like a bat outta a shampoo station. She sprinted the entire way home, barged inside, then raced to her son's room. She stopped at the last inch, hesitated, and then opened the door.

Cory and Treecko paused their game of no-rules-charades to stare awkwardly at Mrs. Costa. Mrs. Costa saw her son alive, took an overdue breath, and then Mrs. Costa closed the door.

Humans are weird, Treecko thought. And then Treecko went back to being a pretend alien dinosaur dragon pirate for Cory.

5~~----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------~~5

Treecko's growth was subtle, considering her potential. A little more height every day, a little more girth, a little more muscle, a little more mass. Her jaws were growing a little more jagged, her teeth a little more edged. Her limbs thicker and more defined, her bushy tail more dense, her back oh-so-slightly arching. Treecko wouldn't be winning any beauty contests, but she could probably just eat the judges. Treecko could totally eat a judge, Treecko thought while playing checkers with a child. Treecko lost. Treecko let Cory win, of course.

Unfortunately for Cory, possession of a soon-to-be gorilla does not excuse oneself from schoolwork. The first at-home assignments were delivered on the third day. They would not be the last, no matter how much Cory protested. Mrs. Costa sat him and his beast on the couch, unplugged the television, gave her son his homework, and prayed. Not that the prayers were needed. Cory's teachers had been prepped on his situation, and they knew exactly how to handle it.

These papers, Treecko liked them. She liked them because they had pictures of Treecko. Big pictures! They may have been subtitled with trivial mental challenges, but Treecko was more than willing to humble these pious humans. With some assistance from a ten-year-old child, Treecko managed to complete elementary school homework with a divine 60% accuracy. Treecko was very smart. She knew she was smart. Of course she was smart. Treecko was very smart.

Treecko, in a fit of generosity, blessed the leading role to Cory. Cory, even though he needed Treecko's help (of course), managed to increase answer accuracy to an acceptable 97%. Cory then gathered the papers, handed his assignment to Mrs. Costa, and dragged Treecko to his room for checkers. Treecko let Cory win, of course.

6~~----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------~~6

By the fourth day, Treecko was taller than Cory. Just for fun, Treecko attempted to use the human toilet while she had the chance. It was a good attempt.

Treecko, being the courteous sort, decided to contain her situation out of the kindness of her heart. Treecko was very kind, yes. And so Treecko began the sterilization process by locating human cleaning tools. Not that she knew how to use them, but she was sure she could figure it out. Treecko was very smart, yes. She gently opened the cupboards just like Cory does, careful not to repeat last night's drawer incident, and then stared at the colorful bottles.

Treecko liked the orange bottle the best. It was see-through and pretty and had a fancy white lid. It contained little colored pellets that seemed edible, according to Treecko's snout. But most fascinatingly of all, this bottle had lots of funny-sounding big words on it. There was lora-something, sera-something, psycho-something, clona-something. And Cory Costa! This must have been Cory's bottle, and he must be very gifted to have such a fancy bottle.

Treecko took a rag of cloth from the cabinet, sliced off a square, started rubbing, and accidentally banged her elbow scales against the wall. Mrs. Costa opened the door, and then Mrs. Costa closed the door. Treecko, through her time and effort and genetic superiority, successfully wiped up all the poop. Treecko was very resourceful, yes.

"Treecko?" Cory called from his room. Softly, too soft for human ears, but Treecko wasn't human. Treecko deftly-ish maneuvered out of the bathroom and ran back to her friend.

7~~----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------~~7

Mrs. Costa was a smart woman. She knew the tradition, the commands of the unassailable titans. She knew what Treecko meant for her son, perhaps more than he did. Treecko needed a companion, a human for the monster to become comfortable with, a babysitter to placate Treecko's older relatives. And if Treecko wasn't getting the absolute best care possible, if she was to be given a simple doghouse instead of shown the world, if Cory was to stay behind when Treecko grew out of the house...well, it just wasn't an option. There was only one option.

Mrs. Costa placed her elbows on the kitchen counter, checked to see no one was in earshot, and cried. But Treecko wasn't human.

"What's wrong?" Cory said. They were on Cory's bed playing their traditional before-bed card game. Treecko looked around at nothing, and then Treecko leaned her head into Cory's chest. Not that Treecko was upset, of course. Treecko was just tired, yes. Treecko was very tired, yes.

Cory pet Treecko behind the ears and along the back of her neck, then shut off the lights.

8~~----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------~~8

It was the fifth day. Treecko had a growth spurt; she was as tall as a full-sized human and several times more massive. Treecko made thuds when she walked and could bite a man in half. But that evening, after another long day's work at the damned shampoo station, Mrs. Costa wasn't thinking about that.

There were humans outside. Treecko could hear eight or so, grown-ups, all strangers, emerging from a convoy of human automobiles. They had parked in the street out front and spread out, talking amongst themselves, some whispering, some rowdy, some slurred. Treecko could smell them, too. They smelled agitated.

Mrs. Costa saw them through a window, closed the curtains, then told Cory and Treecko to go play in their room. Of course, they were already going to do that, but then Mrs. Costa told them to. And Treecko was not one to be told what to do.

Cory, on the other hand, didn't like to get in trouble. Cory got in trouble a lot at his old school, before they moved him to the new school. And if there's one thing Cory learned at his old school, it's that he doesn't like to get in trouble. But Treecko had a different philosophy. Treecko was going to go outside, see for herself what's going on, and anyone that had a problem with that could take it up with her. And her claws, And her teeth. And her scales. Treecko liked being a monster, yes.

Out of respect for the poor Mrs. Costa, Treecko slipped out the back. Cory watched from his bedroom window as the scary lizard monster snaked their way towards the streetside commotion. Cory lost eyes on Treecko, and then there was yelling.

Cory heard Mrs. Costa's voice, muffled by the distance. Something shattered, loud. Treecko growled and took a beefy step onto concrete. Car engines started up. More yelling. Tires screeched, and then there was silence.

Silence, neverending silence. "It's okay," Cory whispered. "It's okay. It's okay."

Someone knocked on Cory's door, but Cory's body refused to move. The doorknob turned. The door creaked open. And then Treecko squeezed her way in. Cory ran to Treecko, opened his arms, and hugged her.

Treecko didn't need this affection — the beer bottles had bounced off her scales like flimsy flies — but Treecko accepted this tribute nevertheless. She let the human have his hug for as long as he wanted, and then Cory raced out to the living room.

Mrs. Costa was at the window. Or rather, where the window once was. She had just gotten her broom and dustpan ready to go, and then she saw her son. Cory hadn't done what she told him to do. Cory began to breathe, fast.

"It's fine," Mrs. Costa said. "Go back to your room." Cory took a step back and bumped into Treecko's belly. Mrs. Costa watched the two of them exchange a glance, and then Treecko looked at Mrs. Costa. "I don't think they're coming back," Mrs. Costa said, words aimed at her son but her eyes on Treecko. Treecko closed her eyes for the briefest of moments, breathed, smiled, and then Cory and Treecko went to play video games. Mrs. Costa had brought home a last-gen console today, and Cory (and Treecko) hadn't a chance to plug it in yet. They would have to make do with a thrift store television. It was perfect.

Mrs. Costa cleaned up the glass, made sure her home was presentable, and then calmly called the police. She didn't cry. She was done crying.

9~~----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------~~9

The police arrived, but the danger had passed. They checked for injuries, found none, and said hi to Treecko. Treecko grunted. Mrs. Costa gave the officers a description of the vehicles (no license plates — Mrs. Costa kicked herself for that) and the officers promised to keep in touch. They wouldn't.

Cory was seated at the table, arms folded politely. Treecko was twiddling her claws, trying not to make scary noises. The officers said goodbye and Cory's arms sloped to the side, his face rested on the tabletop.

Mrs. Costa saw the officers out and closed the door. Cory didn't move. Mrs. Costa pulled out a chair next to her son, sat down, glanced at Treecko, paused, and breathed.

"Cory," Mrs. Costa said, voice tender. "Some people don't like..." She looked for the right words. "Some people don't like things bigger than them." Treecko tried and failed to hold back a toothy smile. Mrs. Costa gave her a look. Treecko's smile evaporated.

"Some people," Mrs. Costa said, "They want to be the biggest people in the world, so they can do whatever they want and no one can stop them. So they go out and try to prove that they're the biggest people around. They...but I don't think you need to worry about that."

Cory raised his head. Mrs. Costa was looking at Treecko. Treecko's bottom lip was curved ever-so-slightly towards the floor, her breathing quick and heavy, her eyes darting around the room. If Treecko was a human, you might call her nervous. But Treecko was still a hulking monster tooth and claw, no matter which way you dice it. Not that Treecko was nervous, of course. She was just excited. That's it. Treecko was very excited, yes.

"You understand, Cory?" Mrs. Costa said. Cory almost smiled, but couldn't make it all the way. And then Cory nodded his head, and then Mrs. Costa leaned over to her son, and then they hugged.
"I'm sorry," Cory said. Cory was crying.
"It's okay," Mrs. Costa said.
"I'm sorry," Cory said.
"Don't-"
"I'm sorry."
And then Treecko growled.

Cory and Mrs. Costa turned their heads. Treecko was looking straight into Cory's eyes. And Treecko was looking an awful lot like a big, proud monster. A monster that saw two loyal humans in need of a blessing, because Treecko was a god or something like that. So she took her bulging arms, spread them wide, and then Treecko joined the hug. Treecko wasn't crying, she thought. Monsters never cry, she thought. She was just correcting her eye fluid levels, yes.

"I love you, Mom," Cory said. Treecko was crying.
"I love you, too." Mrs. Costa said, her brain on autopilot as the sobbing monster squeezed, and sobbed, and squeezed, but mostly sobbed. For three minutes. Mrs. Costa resisted, at first. But there was no escape. Resistance was futile, Mrs. Costa. Or so the Kaijumon professor would've told her. Probably. Mrs. Costa wanted a drink.

Eventually, smothered by the immovable arms of a bipedal forest gecko, Cory started to feel safe. His eyes ran dry, the burden of life on someone else's scaley shoulders. Treecko looked at her now-calm friend and relaxed her grip just a touch. And then Cory slipped out of the hug, and then Cory took Treecko's hand. They ran out back, a thud with each footstep, and then Cory built some piles of dirt.

"Bet you can't smash this!" Cory said, putting on his best brat impression. So Treecko did. Treecko crushed, stomped, ripped, and smashed apart the dirt towers, like an unstoppable kaiju tearing through a city. In that one brief moment, Treecko felt invincible. The tears stopped. Cory was the best human.

10~~----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------~~10

That night, Mrs. Costa had a phone call. Treecko was already curled in a nest of blankets laid against the bed, her snout snuggled into Cory's side as he laid proper in his bed. But Cory and Treecko weren't quite asleep. And the door to Cory's bedroom is quite thin.

Mrs. Costa tried to keep it down, but her anger got the better of her. She didn't scream, not quite, but the man on the phone got defensive. Alex said the usual; "Cory needs a father, Mary". "Cory needs stability, Mary". "You're taking my son from me, Mary." And then Alex mentioned "that monster", Alex said "that thing's threatening my son", Alex said he'd "done the right thing today, all us guys". Mrs. Costa fought it all, like a cornered animal watching her cubs get beat. Alex said he was "just trying to help, Mary". Alex said "I love you, Mary." And then Mary Costa hung up.

Mary peaked into Cory's room. The lights were out. Cory was under the blankets, eyes closed, head on his pillow. Treecko was sprawled out amongst her blankets, head rested on Cory's mattress, eyes closed. And Mrs. Costa closed the door.

That night, Cory took his blanket to the floor and curled up against Treecko. Treecko swished her blankets around him, and then the two of them fell asleep together.

11~~----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------~~11

That night, Treecko had a dream. Treecko wasn't supposed to have dreams, because Treecko wasn't supposed to sleep. Of course she shouldn't have been sleeping. She was a divine being of immense power, capable of millennia of activity without slumber. Yet there she was, curled up with her emotional support human, too afraid to do her job. That night, Treecko had a dream, and it was all her fault.

The cars had come back. There were more of them, lots more. Treecko growled and roared, but they didn't run away. They started throwing bottles, stones, dozens upon dozens upon dozens. Treecko shrugged off the assault and roared once more, but the stones were now a wall ramming into her scales. She pushed and clawed through the wall, but the stones didn't stop. Treecko pushed and pushed and pushed, clawed and clawed and clawed, but the wall was too strong. The wall fell on Treecko, crushing her beneath its might, and then Treecko woke up.

Cory was still asleep. It was pitch black, though Treecko's eyes didn't need light. Treecko wrapped her arm around Cory, closed her eyes, and tried to forget. But Treecko was afraid.

Treecko opened her eyes. They stayed open for the rest of the night, until Cory started to wake up. Treecko snapped her eyes shut and pretended to wake up with Cory. And Cory didn't suspect a thing.

12~~----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------~~12

On the sixth day, a miracle happened. Treecko didn't grow. But Treecko didn't mind. That morning, just at the break of dawn, still snuggled with Cory in her nest of blankets, Treecko created a secret. It wasn't a very secret secret — the professor at the Kaijumon lab had warned the neighborhood weeks ago — but for Treecko, it was a secret nonetheless. Treecko had a secret, yes, and Cory would know her secret.

Treecko, with the combined power of monster grunting and hand gestures, woke Cory from his naive dreams and guided him outside to the dirt lot. It was quite the large lot, scattered grass in a flat square, enough to fit a big ol' villa and then some. Perhaps this lot was once a forest that went through some tough times. Or maybe some business-type wanted to build a neighborhood and lost interest at step one. But right here, right now, it didn't matter. It was perfect.

First, Cory needed to be at a safe distance. Treecko was confident she could make it work regardless, but this was her first time and she didn't want to accidentally hurt Cory. Thus, Treecko built Cory a dirt sitting-hump in exchange for some ear skritches (Treecko likes ear skritches). Treecko put some space between her and Cory, exhaled like a rocket launcher, closed her eyes, and let it happen.

It wasn't painful, stressful, or even tense. Indeed, Treecko felt relaxed, aware, even a little euphoric. Her heart pounded like a drum, her nerves tingled like lightning. Treecko clenched her fists, tilted her jaws just the slightest bit upward, and felt the weight flow.

The weight pushed and pulled, packing her muscles and bones while swelling her chest and limbs. Her hunch accentuated as more and more of the world fell below her snout. She felt her tail pushing along the dirt, packing the earth under its weight. She curled her toes and dug trenches, released the strain and flung dirt. With every second, she felt gravity more and more, until she stretched her back and lifted gravity away. She gave one final booming exhale, looked down, and smiled for her audience.

Cory was excited. He was other things, too, but mostly excited. He sunk into that dirt mound, craned his head as high as it could go, and tried to comprehend Treecko's new size. Fifty feet, maybe? A hundred? Cory didn't have a ruler. She was under the clouds, at least. Cory's brain looped the same futile comparisons over and over and over, until his brain-nerves short circuited. Cory was excited, and that was all his brain could handle.

Treecko saw Cory down there, his little jaw open. It would take him quite a while to process, Treecko thought. Let's speed it up.

Treecko stretched her arms back, felt her muscles awaken, and then reached down. She extended her palm to just a few meters from Cory and then, with the grace of a born physics-defier, scooped Cory into her bowl of a hand. She tilted him into the bed of her palm like a marble in her hand, then gently raised her arms. She brought Cory to eye level and gave him a smirk. Cory's pupils were the size of the moon.

Treecko tilted her head down. She moved her palm to the top of her head, and then Cory Costa was riding a giant monster. "Woah," Cory whispered, bracing himself between two of Treecko's new spikes as if they were reins. Ideas overloaded Cory's brainspace. Treecko smiled.

Unfortunately, riding a giant monster through downtown would cause some problems. Treecko was at an impasse. There needed to be a finisher, a big finale, one final show of force to complete the tour. She thought long and hard, and then Treecko had an idea.

Treecko inhaled a gale, held the storm inside for just a second, and then roared. Not too loud — she didn't want to hurt Cory's human eardrums — but the rumble was unmistakable. The echo rolled across the horizon like a tsunami of sound, flowing past ears like an endless waterfall. But the waterfall did end, the world left as silent as ever. That morning, in that dirt lot, Cory and Treecko ruled the world. Close enough, Treecko thought.

But something continued to echo. Sound was rushing past, but Treecko's maw was shut. There was something else. Someone else. From beyond the horizon came one roar, then two, and then a cacophony of roars from all directions. Distant, origins beyond even Treecko's senses. Welcome, they were saying. You are not alone. And Treecko felt small.

She could feel Cory's pulls on her spikes, like the reins of a saddle. Treecko lowered her head to the ground, tilted ever-so-slightly down, and guided Cory as he slowly slid into the dirt. He landed on his butt with the force of a feather, rotated around, and then Cory was looking at a giant monster. Treecko looked at Cory. Cory looked at Treecko. "Hi," Cory said, barely pushing the words out. Treecko gave Cory a nod, then closed her eyes and let her weight float away.

13~~----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------~~13

As a general rule, downsizing is less exciting. Treecko was no exception. It was harder on Treecko's end, returning to her smaller-but-still-brutish form, but it just didn't carry that same wow factor. Still, it made Cory say "you can do that, too?". Treecko counted that as a win.

But Treecko wasn't done yet. There was one more form for Cory, one she wasn't quite sure what to make of. She closed her eyes once more, let the weight slip again, and felt...powerlessness? Nostalgia? Comfort? Treecko couldn't pin it down. For Treecko was the size of herself when she left the lab, when she was carried home by Cory to play with string and cards. Treecko missed those tummy skritches. Cory picked her up and gave her tummy skritches. Cory was the best human.

Cory, his friend cradled in his arms, carried her inside to his room. They sprawled out in the mess of blankets, got comfortable, and played outdated video games together.

14~~----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------~~14

"Mom, look!" Cory said. But Mary was already looking.

Cory, for the first time in six days, was wearing his backpack. It was a weird little sack, a squarish box of cheap plastic with one oversized button flap at the top. And within that flap, peaking her head out above Cory's, was Treecko. Treecko liked the carriage, yes.

It was late in the day, late enough for Mary to finally be home. She was looking at a Treecko that was a lot smaller than when she left, which made today's trip to the grocery store awfully pointless. You would've thought Treecko's...announcement this morning would've meant something. Still, the whole size-shifting thing could wait. There was business to attend to.

"Cory,“ Mary said, placing a brown bag of groceries on the counter. "Could you get the last bag? I put it down at the mailbox." And then: "I'd like to talk to Treecko.“

Maybe another kid would've started a protest, but Cory didn't like to get in trouble. Cory twisted his head around to give Treecko a tepid look. Treecko gave Cory a tepid nod. Cory took off his backpack, placed it on the ground, and then Cory rushed outside to bring in the groceries. Mary and Treecko were alone. There was something in Mary's hand.

"Can you read?" Mary said. What a silly question, Treecko thought while slowly sinking into the bag. Of course I can read! Treecko nodded to Mary and remembered to breathe, then stepped out of the bag.

"Here," Mary said. She held out a letter-sized envelop to the monster. Treecko stood still. "Take it," Mary said, jostling the envelop. It sounded like paper. Treecko leaned in, closed her eyes, and snatched the envelop.

FOR TREECKO

"You mouthed the words," Mary said with an uncontained smirk, only to remember she's talking to a monster. But Treecko's mind was already occupied. A letter! Treecko knew what letters were, but she certainly wasn't expecting one for herself. She preferred more efficient forms of communication, like grunts and growls. Not that puny humans would understand, what with their language and writing and long words. Treecko didn't like long words. This letter better not have long words, Treecko thought while staring at the letter. How humans developed the processes for-

"Do you need me to open it?" Mary said from a safe distance. Treecko shook her head and stared at the letter. Of course I could open the letter, Treecko thought while not opening the letter. There were confusing folds, but Treecko had claws. Treecko liked having claws. She just needed to use them. Treecko would open the letter. Yes, that is what she would do. Treecko stared at the letter.

Cory rocketed into the room, placing his grocery bag on the counter before Mary could process. Within seconds, he was by Treecko's side, staring at the letter with her. Treecko sighed with relief.
"That letter's for Treecko," Mary said. But then Treecko gave the letter to Cory. Cory hesitated, Treecko grunted, and then the letter was both of theirs.

"No, no, no," Mary said. And then Cory and Treecko looked at Mary. Mary looked away.
"Mom," Cory said, sitting cross-legged on the floor. "Are you okay?" And for the briefest moment, Mary couldn't answer.
"I'm fine," Mary said. "It's okay. Open it." But she was looking at the floor. She tilted her head up and smiled for her child.

Cory took the lie. He held the letter in front of Treecko and Treecko ran a claw along the bottom. A piece a paper dropped to the floor. Cory read it out loud, for Treecko. Cory was so polite, Treecko thought.

HELLO TREECKO

WE ARE THE KAIJUMON LEAGUE. WE WOULD LIKE TO SEE YOU TOMORROW. WE WANT TO MAKE YOU BIG AND STRONG! PLEASE SEE US TOMORROW.

"Um..." Cory said.
"I got a letter too, with all the details." Mary said. "They'll train you-" And then Mary skipped a breath.
"Are you okay, Mom?" Cory said. Treecko sniffed the air and didn't detect any toxins.
"I'm fine," Mary said. "Would you two like to go, when I get home from work?" Mary was trying to keep eye contact, but she had to close her eyes. You can't cry if you close your eyes.

Cory didn't know what to do, so he looked at Treecko. Treecko didn't know what to do, so she nodded.
"Perfect," Mrs. Costa said, smiling. But just because you're smiling doesn't mean you're happy.

"Mom," Cory said.
"Yes, Cory?"
"I love you."

Mary couldn't take it anymore. She walked up to her son, not even caring about the monster by his side, and the Cory and Mary Costa hugged.
"I love you, too," Mary said.

15~~----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------~~15

Cory and Treecko didn't play games that night. They were too busy thinking. It looked like they were sitting, but they were thinking. And thinking is hard work.

Cory felt like he was in trouble. He didn't know why, which was weird, as it usually was his fault. That's what his teachers would tell him, anyways. And he didn't want to get in trouble, so he always believed his teachers. But now? There was no one to tell him it was his fault. And Cory didn't know what to think.

Treecko stayed close to Cory the entire night. When he went to take his pill, Treecko followed him to the bathroom. When he climbed onto his bed, Treecko jumped up with him. When he couldn't get to sleep, Treecko stayed awake. Cory and Treecko laid there in the bed, lights off, door closed, sheets pulled tight, and Cory and Treecko didn't know what to think.

"Treecko," Cory whispered. "I'm scared." And Treecko wanted to say it's okay. She wanted to say Cory was the best human, and that everyone else was just monster poop. She wanted to speak to Cory more than anything else in the world, vocal cords be damned. So she did.

"Cory," Treecko rasped out. Her throat was burning. She tasted blood. Cory raised in bed, let his mouth hang open, and pinned his eyes on Treecko's mouth. But Treecko couldn't handle any more words. So she smiled as much as she could, calmed herself, and snuggled her head onto Cory's side. And Cory felt needed.

Cory stopped blaming himself. Treecko needed him to. He fell back on his pillow, closed his eyes, and drifted into sleep. Treecko watched the door until the sun came up, then shut her eyes and pretended to wake with Cory.

16~~----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------~~16

One week. The professor had said one week. Any longer, and Treecko would've gotten restless. And she was, a little. Monsters like herself are born to roam, to patrol their territory that is the planet. But Treecko wouldn't mind settling down. The Costa household wasn't her natural habitat, sure. She wasn't hunting for prey or conquering territory, razing civilizations or ruling as god-empress. Treecko could do all of those things, yes. But being a god sounds like a lot of work. Treecko preferred a more casual godhood, one where she played all day and got to have friends.

Not that Cory knew this, at least for now. They were talking now, mostly about Treecko. Treecko liked talking about Treecko, but phonetics was hard. Painful, even. The vocal cords of a monster were meant for roars, not small talk with children. So Treecko paced herself, kept her answers short, used grunts if she needed. Cory caught on quick, limiting his questions to every so often. They would get to know each other, but it wouldn't be happening overnight. Although, perhaps they didn't know themselves as much as they thought.

"Where's your mom?" Cory had said. And Treecko didn't know.
"I-" Treecko said, only to start coughing.
"It's okay," Cory said, genuine, innocent, unaware. "We can talk later." The two of them went back to video games. And Treecko felt small. Again.

17~~----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------~~17

Of all the people in the household, Mary knew the most. She didn't know everything — sometimes, she wished she knew nothing — but Mary knew enough. Enough to know where her child was summoned. Enough to know where he was going tonight. Enough to know what came next.

On the seventh day, when Mary came home from work, Mary called one last meeting. Everyone gathered around the couch while Mary passed plastic glasses of lemonade-flavored water. Treecko was a lizard gorilla again, to ease the trachea.

"Hi," Treecko the rip-a-man-in-half bipedal forest gecko said.
"Oh," Mary said. She sipped from her plastic cup. "That's new."
"Are you mad?" Cory said, sinking into the couch, clutching his pseudo-lemonade with both hands. Treecko hovered over Cory from behind the couch as Mary sat down.

"I'm not mad, Cory," Mary said over a hint of laughter. "Just a little tired." Mary sipped from her cup. It wasn't a real drink, but she pretended it was. Maybe this could be a night off, from a certain point of view. But Mary knew better. There was business to attend to.

"So, Cory," Mary said. "Treecko." Treecko grunted, then sipped from the plastic cup like the humans were doing. Treecko was very sociable, yes. And then Treecko swallowed the cup.
"No, no!" Cory said, the ten-year-old child taking control of the situation. "Spit it out!" And then Treecko spat the already-half-dissolved cup onto the couch, complete with sizzling saliva and chunks of monster bile. It had been a nice couch.
"Sorry," Cory said.
"Sorry," Treecko said, but with a slightly larger pair of lungs.

The meeting was put on hold while Mary purged the contaminants. Despite spending precious seconds on stunned disbelief, Mary was able to remove the afflicted cushions before the fluids seeped deep. Losses totaled at two cushions, one pillow, one blanket. The casualties were laid out on the side of the road outside, the blanket draped over them out of respect. Garbage day was yesterday. Mary cleaned and disinfected ground zero in case of unaccounted-for moisture, then took a shower. Cory waited on the one remaining couch cushion, Treecko the hulk curled up on the floor. And then Treecko had an idea.

Treecko squeezed herself outside and stomped over to the casualties. Personally, she didn't mind the smell — in fact, Treecko the monster liked spreading her scent. But the puny humans had difficulties inhaling her musk, and she supposed she could help them out. And so Treecko grabbed the casualties, shoved them in her mouth, chewed, and swallowed. Situation contained, yes.

18~~----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------~~18

"So," Mary said, sitting on a pillow that had been promoted to couch cushion. "Cory and Treecko." Treecko was curled up on the floor like a scaley green mastiff the size of a horse. Cory was sitting on the only cushion to survive. No one was drinking lemonade.

"How about," Mary said, pausing for an exhale. "How about, before we go to the Kaijumon League, we make a plan?" She checked the time. "But a simple plan!" Mary said. "Just in case anything happened." Mary was trying to speak slowly, but the clock vetoed.

"Do you know what to do if you get in trouble?" Mary said. Treecko nodded. Cory shook his head. Mary winced in mental pain. "All you need to do," Mary said, "Is say, 'I'm sorry'. And..." Mary looked at Treecko. "Go easy. Please."
"Okay," Cory said. And then Treecko nodded.
"Thank you," Mary said. "Let's go."

19~~----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------~~19

Mary's letter had told her that her "chosen child and their partner" could drop by "at the most convenient time, within reason". That time turned out to be sunset, even with their brisk walking pace. Cory had packed his backpack with snacks and his medication in the side pockets, Treecko in her carriage. On Mary's recommendation, Treecko stayed underneath the backpack flap, though she'd peek out when Cory whispered it was safe. They turned it into an impromptu game of Red Light Green Light, with Mary's gaze being the red light. Mary pretended not to notice. Treecko and Cory pretended they hadn't been found out. Cory and Treecko giggled the entire walk. Mary heard her son laugh and couldn't help but be happy. For once. Mary felt happy. What an odd feeling, happiness.

The League's office was about as subtle as the kaiju it represented. Long and tall, with a set of stairs leading up to a set of double doors detailed with monster effigies. Plus stone status of great beasts posing like they just conquered the planet, because of course. The roof was slanted like a church. Which it was, though it wasn't the kind that held masses. This was the church where immortal beings of immense power offered their advice, in exchange for friendship and tummy skritches. The building was two hundred years old. Humanity still didn't understand.

"Cory," Mary Costa said. She had stopped at the base of the stairs, causing her duckling to stop behind her. "Are you ready?" Mary said. Cory nodded his head, lying. Mary sighed, knelt to her ten-year-old son's height, and gave him a hug.

"You're going to be okay," Mary Costa said.
"I know, Mom," Cory Costa said.
"You're going to be okay," Mary Costa said.
"Mom, I know," Cory Costa said.
"You're going to be okay," Mary Costa said.
Cory Costa was silent.
"You're going to be okay," Mary Costa said.
"It's okay, Mom." Cory Costa said.

Mary Costa didn't want to let go. But she had to. She blinked away the water running from her eyes, breathed, and she let her son go.

"Do you want to come with me, Mom?" Cory said. And Mary choked. She gagged once, put a hand on her stomach, felt the ground beneath her feet, saw the cathedral up above, and accepted the world.

"This is for you," Mary said. "I can't, they don't let me. It's okay. Go." And Cory didn't know what to do.
"I love you, Mom," Cory said.
"I love you, too," Mrs. Costa said.

Cory walked up the stone steps between the statues of proud beasts. Step by step, step by step, step by step. Cory Costa reached the detailed double doors, turned around, and saw Mrs. Costa wave. Cory put his small shaky arms on the left door, pushed, and then Cory Costa went inside.

Mrs. Costa was alone. She had never been alone before. There were strangers, the occasional pedestrians walking by, but they didn't count. Mrs. Costa felt alone.

Mrs. Costa watched the door. No one entered. No one left. She had been told her son would be in there "for quite some time", her letter said. "Your son will be provided with a phone (if they do not already have one) and will contact you as soon as orientation is completed. It will likely take some time, upwards of three hours."

Mary Costa had work tomorrow. The sun had set. She needed to be at work in nine hours. Her boss had requested she come early, to attend a training. Mary Costa had already completed this training. So her boss was making her the instructor. Mary Costa had work in nine hours. Mrs. Costa watched the door.

Mrs. Costa waited for thirty minutes. The doors to the church remained shut.

Mrs. Costa waited for one hour. The doors to the church remained shut.

Mrs. Costa waited for two hours. The doors to the church remained shut. So Mrs. Costa climbed the steps and pushed the door. The door was locked.

Mrs. Costa was crying. She needed a minute. She spotted a rock on the ground. There were windows, giant stained panes, impossible to miss. Mary Costa picked up the rock. She breathed. And then Mrs. Costa went back home.

20~~----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------~~20

At hour three, Mrs. Costa was in bed. But she couldn't go to sleep. It wasn't all that late in the night, all things considered. But it was too late.

And then, Mrs. Costa received a call.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Mom!"
"Cory! How are you? Where are you? Are you okay?" But that was too many questions for Cory Costa. He needed time to think.

"Cory!" Mrs. Costa screamed.
"It's okay, Mom." And Mrs. Costa tried not to cry. She though she was done crying. Everybody thinks they're done crying.

"Are you okay, Mom?" Cory asked. And Mrs. Costa knew her son. She knew what space he must be in to ask a question like that. But she doubted herself.

"I'm fine," Mrs. Costa said. "How was your day?" And Cory Costa talked on and on about all the things he'd done, the things he seen. There was this big underground place, with plants and stuff, and he'd met a dragon, like, a real dragon. And he asked her (the dragon was a girl) so many questions, and the dragon had given so many answers. And it took so long, they didn't have time for anything else! So they used this capsule ball thing and made a tent, and he and Treecko were sleeping in the big underground place. But the human at the place, they had one human at the place, but only one human at the place, their name was Park. Park had given him a phone before bed. And Park gave him Mary Costa's number, and Park said to call you, Mom. To say that everything was fine, and that I'd be leaving for more training in the morning.

"So I'm fine, Mom," Cory said. And for some reason, this made Mary Costa cry. But Mrs. Costa smiled.

"Okay," Mrs. Costa said. She tried to say more. "Good night, Cory." And then: "I love you."
"I love you too, Mom."

END~~----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------~~END

unrepentantAuthor · May 21, 2019

Hi there, Snuggle! I'm here to review Kaijumon for the review game! You asked for a review of the first couple chapters or a general overview: I'd like to do you one better and review the whole fic with attention to every chapter.

Some thoughts on the OP:

Nice banner.

I suppose I'm somewhat impressed that you've set up a CC license, however necessary it might ever actually be, but that mass of formal legal stuff could easily be under a spoiler, honestly. I personally find it excessive. We're not in danger of takedown notices by Nintendo, and if for some reason people did have questions about your copyright, I'm sure they'd think to contact you on their own.

The summary is pretty good, as they go. I'm also a PTerry fan, so that's a draw. I might point out that PTerry liked to put tremendously grim and serious stuff in his books for kids, which is a little at odds with your "defend childhood against harsh reality" line. It's also unclear about its target audience and intended tone. I don't know what you mean by "an idea for a better [world]." It could mean that this setting with kaiju in it is preferable to our real lives, or that you're advocating a new life philosophy in a short pokémon fanfiction. Nevertheless, the summary does its job! I have some expectations about the story and an interest in reading it.

On chapter one:

I have to say, this opens really rather well. I think the lists could use a little polish to read as well as possible, but the concept is great. It also does what an opening ideally does — intrigue me while also laying some ground for expectation. I notice the prose is slightly awkward on occasion. For example, the "Cory could've asked these questions at any time" paragraph has three different tenses in it. However, generally the narrative voice is fairly solid and the narration is competent.

At this point, in terms of worldbuilding, I think it's a bit of a stretch that "newborn" kaiju already have complex abstract thoughts about their relationship with mortals, and that they can invent the high five and expect to receive one, and I want to know as soon as possible why the pokémon trainer trope exists in such a setting. (It soon becomes clear Treecko isn't newborn at all, merely a young juvenile.) I supposed they are just genuinely godlike beings and can live as they please, and I was more or less right, as it turns out. The "tax credit" bit is a nice nod to what I hope at this point is a well thought-out world.

Minor notes: The callback to "it was a nice couch" is hilarious. The "shuffle" joke is a bit opaque and I had to read it a couple times. Most of the prose so far has been narrative rather than descriptive, so I don't have much of a picture of the human characters, and that'd be fine, but I feel I really ought to have had an image of Mrs Costa by the time of her tense moment alone with Treecko. I like the final line about being an inch taller very much.

On chapter two:

Some more phrasing that doesn't quite read all that well. "Bat outta a shampoo station," (oddly specific) "soon-to-be gorilla," (baffling) and "elbow scales" (as opposed to just "elbows") don't work for me. I also found "bushy" an odd choice for Treecko's tail, since that implies fur.

Treecko's perspective is rather entertaining; precocious, narcissistic, inquisitive. She's a delight to imagine. I enjoy her absurd mix of startling intelligence and childlike foolishness. Wilful self-deception isn't often this enjoyable in a character.

I noticed you didn't doublespace some of your paragraphs this chapter. I see from correspondence that you meant this to suggest a certain pace or flow, but I don't agree with your reasoning. (Incidentally, paragraph breaks are formatting, not grammar.) While you may have intended to increase the perceived intensity of the relevant moment, I for one just reacted with "oh, guess he forgot to doublespace that bit," which I'm sure wasn't the response you were looking for. As it happens, you were also using multiple very short lines of dialogue with no speech tags, which is already perfect for conveying the exact thing you mean to, so the lack of spacing would be superfluous in any case.

The emotional scene with Mrs Costa explaining bullies(?) to Cory is decently written, but a little incoherent. I guess she's trying to explain why drunks might be belligerent, and he's crying because it was all just very intense and he's relieved she's not mad? And I suppose Treecko is intensely empathetic and simply doesn't acknowledge this? It's not entirely clear. In any case, I really feel for Mary in that small phonecall scene.

I like the ending dream scene in which Treecko turns out to be, yes, just a kid too, albeit one with terrifying lethal potential.

On chapter three:

That moment when other kaiju give answering roars was almost magical.

I also love that Treecko mouths words when she reads. These moments, plus the shrinking, are wonderful ways to reveal her childlike nature after all the foreboding giant monster spiel. Her throat bleeding when she tries to speak is a bit much, though.

I'm intrigued that the League appears to be made up of kaiju who like to type in all-caps, that's actually pretty funny. Overall, very much my favourite chapter, although some of my earlier criticisms still apply.

On chapter four:

Treecko is a darling ravenous monster infant in this one. Bless her for meaning well as she eats inedible items. The "two centuries" line makes me wonder exactly when and how the current arrangement arose, and why. I get what you were going for with the singlespaced block of "you'll be okay/I know," but it just doesn't flow, even more egregiously than the blocks in the last two chapters. You use a lot of broad narration, and this might have been the time for it, actually. Something more along "she kept saying it, and he kept answering" lines. "Screamed" is a bit intense, maybe try "cried".

And that's the ending. It didn't feel all that much like an ending, although it certainly was for Mary Costa in a way. If you hadn't specified in the table of contents that this was a conclusion, I wouldn't have thought of it as one particularly. Partly this is because of the abruptness, and partly it's because Cory just dumped a load of tiny hooks in the reader's line of sight in full dialogue, rather than having the narration say that he did so to Mary Costa. It makes it seem as if we're going to see this dragon and this Park shortly.

If you post more chapters, I'm sure I'll read them, but if you don't, then you might want to work on the closing lines of chapter four. As is, it feels like a sudden fade to black when there should be a scene change.

Still, it was a touching chapter.

Overview:

Aside from the occasional typo ("peaking" should be "peeking") and some personal qualms, this was written to a good standard of prose. I can see where your poetry leanings come through, but I don't always personally like how it informs your style. That's just me, though.

You address human miseries, mental health and difficult, complex domesticity, and the nature of children's existence, with a dash of humour. That's great stuff. It makes for a good fic, and this one has just enough of a plot framework to support that. I feel like you could have gone for at least double the wordcount to explore this stuff more, but as-is, it was a memorable read. I don't really have a clear take-away, however. That's fine, you don't have to give one, but your nod to PTerry made me expect one. The general vibe I got was "you can be gentle rather than terrifying" and "sometimes the beings we fear are just like us," but the closing of the story felt like an ordinary pokémon trainer's mother sorry to see her child leave, a little disconnected from that stuff. It was touching nevertheless, as was much of the fic.

I'm not sure if I have any definitive suggestions to make for any hypothetical future revisions. Don't get me wrong, it's already very solid. The only standout thing I'd wish for was more physical description, but I got by without it just fine.

Biggest strength, in my opinion, was Treecko's development. You successfully had her go, seamlessly, from being a deeply concerning threat and beastly inhuman entity, to being a more complex creature with particularly human traits and weaknesses. Although you went a touch melodramatic at times with sobbing, nightmares and bleeding larynx, I really did feel for this at-once tiny and enormous creature and wish the best for her and her very best human companion. I do want to know how she matures, and what kind of a person she'll become. And there's the key! She is a person, you have me believing that very easily indeed.

Thanks for a good read. I hope to see you keep up your writing efforts and striving to improve.

Snuggle Tier List · May 22, 2019

Thank you, @unrepentantAuthor! You've done more than I asked for. And your review itself was insightful.

Before I go further, I should explain: that target audience of my fics is me. While I respect other's personal taste, I respect my own tastes more. This isn't because my tastes are "better"; rather, if I wasn't writing for myself, I wouldn't enjoy writing. And if I didn't enjoy writing, I wouldn't be writing. While I do try and accommodate others' tastes, I can't compromise if they'd make the fic less enjoyable to me.

For instance, the lack of descriptive prose is personal preference. I intentionally aim to be as light on physical description as possible, because as a reader I like to infer description from the narrative. I only dip into descriptive prose if it can't be inferred from the narrative. For instance, I don't describe Mrs. Costa's appearance because I don't think it matters to the narrative, while Treecko's appearance gets more words because they're appearance matters to the narrative. And so the lack of descriptive language, to me, is unintended praise.

Also, as someone who bother lives with mental illness and regularly babysits children, what was opaque or incoherent to you is obvious to me. For instance, I've been in the position of giving speeches to emotional shaken children, and so Mrs. Costa's speech scene was to me her tactfully explaining what had just happened, something I've had to do personally. And the shuffle joke is something I'd instantly understand.

There's also the matter of "takeaway". Unfortunately, Alex Costa is based on a real person from my personal life. KAIJUMON, to me, was about overcoming his shadow. I chose to end at CH4 because that was the moment Cory Costa had become free of him. Cory, despite his social disability, had become independent. Mrs. Costa letting go of her son, while a cliché in Pokémon fanfic, was the final attachment being severed. This all stems from personal experience and so doesn't invalidate your criticism; however, hopefully this explains why I'm not planning a revision.

(I'm also of the belief that "if you need to issue a correction, it's not ready for publication; while I make occasional exceptions, I try to limit myself as much as possible so that I don't fall into a "publish now, fix later" state of mind. Plus the preservationist and computer hobbyist in me recommended not patching, or at least making old versions easily accessible.)

That said, there are some criticisms I personally agree with. For instance, while I do NOT trust Nintendo to encourage fanworks, I dove through the US Copyright Office's Compendium of US Copyright Office Practices and found a license could be placed in spoiler so long as I give a proper copyright notice, which:

Compendium of US Copyright Office Practices 2206.1 said:
...shall be affixed on publicly distributed copies and phonorecords in such a manner and in a location that provides reasonable notice to the public of the claim to copyright.

In all cases, the acceptability of a notice depends upon its being permanently legible to an ordinary user of the work and affixed to the copies in such manner and position that it is not concealed from view upon reasonable examination.

And that copyright notice simply needs to be:

Compendium of US Copyright Office Practices 2204.1 said:
• The symbol © or the word “Copyright” or the abbreviation “Copr.”;
• The year of first publication for the work; and
• The name of the copyright owner, or an abbreviation by which the name can be recognized, or a generally known alternative designation of the owner.

I'm planning to update the copyright notice across all my works to fit this definition. Under my current legal understanding, a reasonable copyright notice could be:

Copyright 2019 @Snuggle Tier List. Some Rights Reserved. This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 license.

yadda yadda copyright legalese

It doesn't completely hide the copyright section ("in a location that provides reasonable notice to the public" means I have to prove any copyright challenger was "willfully ignorant" or "reckless" under my current understanding of US law), but this does shrink my OP copyright tumor considerably. Thank you for your criticism: expect an OP update later today. With a special thanks mention, of course. You more than deserve it. Thank you!

unrepentantAuthor · May 23, 2019

You're very welcome, Snuggle. I did enjoy reading this, and I didn't want to stop halfway through and do the minimum. I'm flattered to get a special thanks!

Your target audience being yourself is perfectly fine, particularly as this is a fanfic, but it does rather mean that giving my feedback seems rather moot. I hope it was at least an interesting read. You might want to consider clarifying what kind of comments you're hoping for in your OP. After all, there's not much point in my telling you I didn't get a joke if the only person who needs to get the joke is yourself.

Good on you for doing further research into the copyright issue and coming up with a solution you're happy with that's not intrusive readers. (I don't intend to do similarly, since I don't see the necessity, but props to you.)

Snuggle Tier List · May 23, 2019

unrepentantAuthor said:
Your target audience being yourself is perfectly fine, particularly as this is a fanfic, but it does rather mean that giving my feedback seems rather moot.

What? No! Even with my target audience being me, that doesn't make feedback moot. I want to write a fic for me, and getting outside opinion can reveal plotholes or characterization details that, when read back, I don't like either. Or at the very least, they make me think "hmm, I don't agree with this. Why?" It's a great self-discovery tool, interacting with critics of all stripes. I might not implement your criticisms, but they still help me discover my strengths and weaknesses, my preferences and dislikes, and my talents in general. Like, I wasn't even thinking about descriptive versus narrative prose, and now I have a pretty solid understanding of my own subjective tastes. That's awesome! Thank you for that, your feedback is the exact opposite of moot!

System Error · Jun 5, 2019

Grats on becoming canon.

Read the first chapter. It's all right. Like the style you're going for here. Will have more detailed comments when I get around to reading the rest of it, horribly busy day today.

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