Summary, long version: Seven years after a boy called N unleashed a legendary Pokémon over Unova, life has continued on. That is, until Nacrene City Museum is taken over by a group of mysterious, threatening fanatics. Nicholas Evergreen escapes the hostage situation with a book and some disturbing words ringing in his ears, courtesy of a man with a link to both Nicholas' own past and to the bizarre Team Plasma. In Castelia City, Callista Fairweather returns home to find a man sitting in her bedroom. And near the mysterious Village Bridge, Beatrice Candlestar is approached by a Pokémon long thought to be a legend. These peculiar incidents draw the three friends together and send them across Unova in a race against a plot that threatens to replicate the goals of an organization thought to be long dispersed.
Parameters, a pokémon fanfiction by criedthefox
"So sure are you of the endless drumming of your isolation
that you are painfully slow to adjust
if only because, yours is not that genre of story
still and again, life cannot muster the stuff of movies
no bullets shattering glass
instead, fear sits patiently
fear almost smiles when you see him
though you have kept him waiting for thirty three years..."
-Parameters, Ani diFranco
Nacrene City - 1:15pm
Pulling a heavy tome from the weathered bookshelf, Nicholas Evergreen stifled a sneeze. The title read, "Assorted Essays on Johto's Legendary Dogs".
"No wonder it's so dusty," Nicholas murmured to himself, and ran a feather duster across the cover. It was incredible, the disparity between back here and up at the front of the Nacrene City Library. Nicholas worked as an assistant at the library, helping with cleaning, sorting, stacking, and other light work while also working on his schooling. Usually, at his brightly-lit desk up front, he was surrounded by the steady buzz of kids doing school projects, or quiet middle-age patrons. Most ignored the quiet, brown-haired youth perpetually hunched over his desk, but those who asked after the mountain of papers and books surrounding him were often surprised. Nicholas had been lucky to land this summer internship (Lenora, head of the connected museum-library, and an ex-Gym Leader, was pretty enthusiastic about promoting secondary education) during his break from Castelia University - for his research paper, Nicholas had chosen a topic on the depiction of legendary Pokémon in art throughout history. Initially interested only in Unova art history, the more Nicholas read the more his interests spread - to Sinnoh, to Hoenn, to Johto, even to Kanto's long forgotten bird trio. Soon he was up to his eyebrows in books and articles, the majority back at his place but a healthy dose still at his work. If he wasn't still in the beginning stages of his thesis, he'd be more afraid of the general direction his research had taken (yesterday he jotted down 10 pages worth of citations about the Orange Islands; the day before, he was sifting through folk tales about Regirock)
But, he still had a job to do, and today he had set aside time specifically to clean the areas of the library that didn't regularly see...well...use.
Not that Nicholas minded the distraction. His research had taken a dangerously boring and confusing turn (he was just starting to wade through articles on the Ruins of Alph in Johto, the majority of the non-contemporary sources notoriously known for being ridiculously over-mythologized, fanatically religious, or both. Nicholas' favourite so far? The century-old journal pages of a sage from Sprout Tower, who described the strange lettering in the Ruins as, "alluring yet grossly hyper-sexual". Yeah, right. Nicholas didn't have to be a psychologist to infer what that sage wasn't getting enough of...). The more time he spent away from those articles, the better.
Standing on tiptoes on his stepladder, Nicholas stretched to dust the top of the bookshelf, stiffly flexing his right fist rhythmically - days of being at his desk were leaving him feeling stiff and pained. He wondered if he shouldn't try to do some exercise after work today.
Below him, in a cart of books waiting to be re-sorted, something rustled, but Nicholas carried on, unconcerned. It was just Tarsi, his Swadloon, a present from his father when he was ten. Nicholas' parents, originally hailing from Sinnoh but raising their children in Accumula, had hoped a Pokémon would help Nicholas, who as a child had always been skittish and nervous around Pokémon.
Surprisingly, it had worked. Nicholas had gotten Tarsi as a Sewaddle, who didn't look as if it could stand on its own let alone attack him. Fascinated, Nicholas had proceeded to spend every waking moment with Tarsi, feeding him, letting him crawl around in the back garden and finally, when prompted, battling against his sister's Tympole, Duchess.
Tarsi had held his own, to Nicholas' delight, and when he was sixteen, after countless battles with schoolmates in the yard during recess, Tarsi had evolved into Swadloon and had been that way ever since. Of course, the fact that Tarsi hadn't reached his final evolution yet worried Nicholas a little, but everyone assured him his Pokémon would evolve when "it was ready".
Tarsi loved wrapping himself in whatever was available; he preferred leaves, of course, but Nicholas lived in a loft in the middle of Nacrene City, so his Swadloon was content with a spare bed-sheet Nicholas had ripped into strips. Tarsi also enjoyed flipping big books spine-side up and burrowing under them for good measure, like he was doing right now with "The Dialga Principle, and Other Shocking Distortion Theories". Tarsi was Nicholas' constant and thoroughly welcomed library companion, content to doze the day away with no noise or complaint. Most of Nicholas' co-workers had been surprised to learn he even had a Pokémon, for all the attention Tarsi drew to himself!
Arms aching from holding themselves up for so long, Nicholas hopped down off his stool, stopping to fix his hair safely behind the shelves. If there was one thing Nicholas appreciated about working in a library, it was the lax dress-code - he really was a button-down shirt and cardigan sort of guy, though he took care to style his hair every day, lest it became a thick tangle on his head.
Stepping around the shelf, Nicholas noticed a man at the other end of the aisle, thumbing through a book carelessly. For some reason Nicholas felt uneasy, though he instantly felt silly for it. Sure, it was a little unusual to see him there - this was a section most frequently visited by scholars or professors, not young student types with expensive looking jeans - but, after all, it was a library. He was allowed to be here. No, that wasn't what made Nicholas' stomach do a weird jerk. The guy looked familiar in a strange way - not in an "old classmate" or "next door neighbour" kind of way...more like "I think we used to go to the same coffee shop", but much more ominous. The man had an almost absurdly bright shock of red hair cut short to his head, and ice blue eyes that looked perpetually bored and half-lidded.
Perhaps sensing eyes on him, the man lifted his eyes from his book to meet Nicholas' gaze. Feeling rude, Nicholas smiled, and the man lifted his fingers to give a rather sardonic wave.
Moving closer, Nicholas offered, "Are you looking for something in particular?"
The man looked surprised. "You work here?" he asked, a little brusquely; then with an odd look on his face (a mix of the same vague recognition Nicholas felt, and also some confusion), he asked, "What's your name?"
"Nicholas," he replied, annoyed at the stranger's disbelief.
"Nicholas." the man repeated, then gave him that same, sardonic wave. "I'm Sebastian."
"Nice to meet you." Now that Sebastian was looking straight at him, bright blue eyes still looking sleepy and disinterested, Nicholas' bizarre feeling of wariness had only increased.
"You know what? Maybe you can help me find something." Sebastian said suddenly. "I'm looking for a book. Reshiram on the Rise. It's got a bunch of essays in it. Heard of it?"
Nicholas let out a surprised laugh. "Oh, that one's checked out for another week still."
Sebastian looked confused. "You must be a good employee, to know all that." he half-teased.
"The only reason I know that is because I'm the one who checked it out." Nicholas pointed out with a bit of irritation. "In fact, half the books checked out in this section are probably checked out under my name."
Sebastian was grinning like this was all a very funny joke. "So, you're an expert, then." he concluded softly, replacing the book he'd been holding on the shelves.
"I'm writing a paper." Nicholas corrected firmly. "There's a difference."
Sebastian smiled. "Do you have it with you?" he asked, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I'm not sure it's the book I need, it would help to take a look at it."
"...Sure." Nicholas agreed with a bit of reluctance. "It's in my desk up front. Follow me."
As they passed the cart of book, Nicholas softly clicked his tongue for Tarsi, and the Swadloon jumped into his arms. Sebastian looked amused but said nothing.
Up front, the windows let in freeing, mood-lifting light, and Nicholas could almost believe his wariness of Sebastian was a product of the sombre shelves and the dim, stuffy lighting in the back. Up in the light of day, Sebastian looked perfectly normal, scruffily handsome in a way; his eyes were piercing now that the light was on them.
Nicholas led him to his desk near the front, papers in a somewhat orderly pile; Hawes must have attempted to clean up again, the dear. Lenora's husband was renowned for being easy-going, exceedingly kind and a bit of a mother hen...if you worked at the library you could expect your desk to be tidied, your dishes to be cleaned and, sometimes, on weekends, chocolate to be left in your coffee mug to start off your Monday.
At his desk, Nicholas put Tarsi down and rifled through his drawers. Tarsi snuggled under a pile of papers and gave the stranger a baleful, protective stare.
"Here it is!" Nicholas pulled the book - slim, unassuming, with a dark indigo colour - from underneath an old brochure for Nimbasa Amusement Park and a bunch of old coupons. He handed it to Sebastian, who began flipping through it. Nicholas waited, patiently, and eventually the red-head looked up.
"What do you think of this book?" he asked, waving it carelessly in the air.
Nicholas frowned. Truth be told, he was only about halfway through "Reshiram on the Rise" - though it wasn't very long, the reading material was very heavy, and he found the style of writing did not grab his attention very well. That aside, however, it was forming the bulk of the latter half of his Unovian research.
Seven years ago, when Nicholas was thirteen, a group called Team Plasma had sought to release all Pokémon from their trainers. Their leader, a boy called N, had awakened Reshiram - one of the legendary Pokémon of the Unova region - in an attempt to harness its powers. His efforts were thwarted, thankfully, but the close call had many scholars talking. Legendary Pokémon were supposed to be just that...legends, nearly untouchable by humans, almost something separate from the "real" world. If a boy could awaken them, what was stopping other, more powerful forces from using these Pokémon for all sorts of misdeeds? The essays compiled in "Reshiram on the Rise" addressed these concerns - what, exactly, were the criteria for calling on these legendary Pokémon, and what was being done to ensure this could not happen again? Conversely, could this be stopped from happening again? Team Plasma had reappeared a few years later, just as determined, though they had faded into the woodwork. Overall, it was a very interesting book, and also the leading source on contemporary legendary interactions.
"It's...interesting." he settled with saying, and at Sebastian's derisive snort he coloured. "Well - it raises more questions than it does answers, doesn't it? I mean, if it could happen once, it could happen again. Reshiram, I mean, and Zekrom, coming back. And what if no one is there to put everything at peace?"
"But," the man pressed with an odd, almost fervent earnestness, "If you prescribe to the belief that Zekrom and Reshiram, as one, created Unova, and so held dominion over it...then if someone was to be chosen by them again...then wouldn't you say they had the authority to do as they wished?"
Nicholas frowned. "One person and one Pokémon couldn't possibly decide what was best for every Pokémon and human. The world doesn't work like that."
"But what if he was chosen?" Sebastian pressed, and the uneasiness flared up again in Nicholas' gut.
"Okay," he conceded, a little nervously. "Say he was chosen by one of them. But chosen for what?"
As Sebastian opened his mouth, Nicholas continued, "There is no evidence of any specific goal, is there? In the legend, the princes were "chosen" and then they used that privilege to fight in the name of their beliefs. That boy, N...and the one who opposed him...they say they were chosen to be "heroes". But then, what does that mean? I think you should look more at what one does when one is chosen. What you do with that determines who you really are."
When Sebastian remained silent, Nicholas pressed, "Pokémon are benevolent, at the best of times. How could a Pokémon like Reshiram or Zekrom, who disappeared for years...how could they possibly know what's "good" for anyone? It listens to the Trainer, and therein lies the responsibility. Just because a Pokémon listens to you and "chooses" you doesn't entitle you to anything."
"Wrong." Sebastian said flatly, and sighed. "Wrong, wrong. I had high hopes for you, Nicky."
Nicholas spluttered, attempting a retort (most likely starting with, "Don't call me that!"), but Sebastian continued, "If you are chosen, it is a sign. Don't you think? A sign that you were meant to be so much more than the rest of the people on this godforsaken piece of land."
"That's not true!" Nicholas exclaimed, so bewildered by this strange man's idea that he didn't even notice, below them, a commotion from the museum. "It's attitudes like this that caused so much trouble, both here and abroad. With Team Plasma, with those crazy people in Sinnoh...I'm just thankful that more people don't share that attitude - "
"Oh, that will change." Sebastian promised, darkly, a little too cryptically for Nicholas to take seriously, but he was distracted when, out in the museum, someone screamed.
Tarsi rustled anxiously on the desk, giving a cry of agitation. The few patrons up front took hesitant steps toward the door.
Then, suddenly, all hell broke loose. A Braviary swept into the library, beating the air with its wings, and creating a violent airflow that sent books tumbling from their shelves - one lightweight bookshelf actually toppled, narrowly missing a terrified little girl and her older sister. The Braviary was followed by a Heatmor, fire flicking from its nostrils, so hot Nicholas could feel it all the way at his desk. Finding their way blocked by two aggressive Pokémon, the people in the library backed up, nervous. A few released their own Pokémon, but none of them looked a match for the intruders.
The Pokémon were quickly followed by about half a dozen people - Nicholas said people because he couldn't really make out any distinguishing features, or even genders. Each of them was wearing a black mask that covered the lower halves of their faces, and a hood that covered their heads. Dressed all in black, they blocked off the entrance, standing with military exactness, hands behind their backs, spines straight, feet planted firmly apart. One of them stepped forward, calming the Braviary and Heatmor with a wave of his hand.
"No one panic." he ordered, voice curiously flat and almost tinny. "Do as we say, and everyone walks away unharmed. Now. Who's in charge?"
And, terrifyingly, Nicholas realized he was. With Lenora out of the city for the day, Hawes on lunch (the researcher had stepped out nearly fifteen minutes ago to the cafe down the street, promising to return with Nicholas' favourite pastry), and the only other workers being the girls at the museum's reception desk, Nicholas was the only one in the building with the keys and, technically, the only one with any kind of authority.
Edging himself along the bookshelf, eyes glued to the man up front, Nicholas nearly jumped out of his skin when a voice bellowed beside him, "Oi! He's in charge!"
Gaping, Nicholas turned to realize that Sebastian had pulled an identical mask over his mouth, and was now pointing straight at Nicholas.
Sebastian gave him a wink.
"Sorry, Nicky." he said, loudly, and released a large, roaring Druddigon from a Pokéball. "But I'm going to need your keys!"
Castelia City - 1:30pm
Callista Fairweather was late. Nervously checking her watch, she hopped from foot to foot, craning her neck to check how long the line in front of her was (answer? Very long).
Reaching up to habitually pat her glossy, black hair, slung up into a high, neat bun, Callista pressed a finger against her chin. Lines for Castelia Cones were never described as "short", per se, but this was the shortest she'd ever seen it, and she loved Castelia Cones.
Beside her, her Munna floated, tugging inquisitively at her owner's white blouse.
"Mun?" she cooed, and Callista placed a hand on her Pokémon's head, in comfort.
"Five minutes, I promise." she mumbled absently, eyes already locking on to the prices printed neatly on the board beside the cashier. "I've been dreaming about this all night."
"Mu." said her Munna, Daisy, which probably meant, I know.
Callista was never going to get used to that dream eating bit.
Sighing, she shifted her weight to one leg in order to let the other rest. Though she had a desk job in the one of the towering office buildings that made up the core of Castelia City's downtown, she was nearly always on her feet - running papers back and forth, photocopying, answering phones and getting coffee - and her black heels, though fashionable, did not hold up well the whole day.
Dressed in a black pencil skirt and white blouse, Callista was aware she looked just like every other office worker in Castelia's hub - the truth was, though, she had never felt like them. Born in the east, with a round, cheerful face, large, dark eyes, and the olive skin common to people born in those parts, she had moved to Castelia and taken up this desk job as a way to pay the bills. In truth, she attended art school, and sold her paintings and sketches on the side at a place called "Castelia Creations" - it was run by a cute guy named Jack, who put up with her and her numerous (sometimes ridiculous) commissions either because he had a soft spot for her or because she knew the best place to get macarons in the city.
Callista was betting on the latter.
Her lunch break was over in ten minutes, and Callista had spent the majority of it standing in the line for Castelia Cones, wolfing down her sandwich standing up. Daisy didn't really get it, obviously, but obediently followed her owner on whatever wild outing she could dream up.
Callista had caught Daisy when she was twelve, when her older brother (who had tried to take the Gym Challenge but ended up stopping halfway through) and his Tranquill, Tammy, had taken her to the Dreamyard when they were visiting relatives in Striaton, and caught her a Munna. At first, twelve year old Callista had been disappointed - there had been plenty of time for her to dream about her first Pokémon, and her dreams usually took the form of "cuter" types - a Cleffa, maybe, or a Budew, or maybe (just maybe, if she was extra good and her mother was willing to pay the fee to have a Pokémon sent in from a far away region) a little Pichu who would fit in her bag and follow her around. Instead, Tammy had swooped into the bushes and chased out something nervous, round, and pink.
Psychic types were not something Callista had heard much about, or really cared for, but when Daisy had nudged her hand, hesitantly, that first time, Callista had fallen in love. From then on, they'd been inseparable, and luckily the office Callista worked in allowed employees to bring one (modestly sized!) Pokémon with them to work. Sometimes, in the break room, if there were a few minutes to spare, Callista's coworkers would even battle. Callista had joined in a couple times, and was proud when Daisy competently held her own (she had a mean Zen Headbutt!)
Though Daisy fretted more than Callista thought a Pokémon should (or actually could, for that matter...what did Daisy care if Callista clocked out a little late this evening?), Callista did appreciate her frequent, if not well-meaning reminders.
And really, she was going to go back to work (really!), but she just happened to look up at the T.V. above the cashier's head.
"Hostage Situation at Nacrene Library" was the headline, accompanied by shaky video footage (probably sent it) of the front doors surrounded by police officers.
She dropped her Castelia Cone.
"Oh my God!" she said. The cashier gave her a frustrated look and she pointed at the screen. "My friend works there!"
The cashier turned but Callista was already sprinting away, Daisy at her heels.
She didn't know what she was doing (there was no way she could run to Nacrene City, and she was headed in the opposite direction of both work and home) but panic fueled her feet, and she didn't stop running until she turned down a side alley and saw the slow blinking of "Castelia Creations" on the outside of the rather grungy shop.
The owner, Jack, was sitting behind the counter reading a book; a tall, rather well-muscled man with blond hair and glasses, he smiled warmly at her once he recognized her; but a closer look at her face had him rising to his feet.
"What's wrong?" he demanded.
"D'you have a TV?" she asked, breathless; her ankles were throbbing in pain, and Daisy circled her in concern. "I - Nacrene City..."
Jack came round the desk, his own Munna, Cheryl, by his side. Their two Pokémon nuzzled each other, worriedly, as Jack switched on the little television set on the counter.
"I think Nicholas was working today." Callista whispered miserably as Daisy nudged her arm, making a distressed keening sound. "God, of course he was working today."
On TV, the reporter was yammering on, something about "no known ties to any criminal organizations" and "details have yet to be released" but Callista was hardly listening. Jack had his arms folded over his chest, leaning against the desk.
"I think she's saying everyone's out," he said, to reassure her, but all of a sudden there was a man being interviewed, an older fellow, eyes worried beneath a thick set of eyebrows.
"There was a kid...they took his keys, I guess he was an employee. I don't see him. Most of us in the museum rushed the exit, I mean...I didn't see him in the crowd, when I got out, but there were a few people still trapped in the library."
Without hesitation Callista yanked her Xtransceiver from her bag and dialed Nicholas' number. At the same time, she dialed another number, the only other person she could think of at a time like this.
"What are you doing?" Jack asked, brow furrowed.
"Calling an old friend." she replied.
Daisy purred.
Route 12, 6km from Village Bridge - 1:40pm
When Beatrice Candlestar woke up in the morning, the Combee were upset, and it hadn't gotten better.
Not that Beatrice was too thrilled with them in the first place. When she had taken the summer job at Thornside Honey Farm she was under the impression she'd be mainly working in the "store" (a cute little cottage that doubled as a home on Route 12) and helping the owner, Mr. Thornside, a delightful but absent-minded old man who had started this farm with his late wife (mostly chores around the house, as Mr. Thornside moved slower these days). However, a month into her work, Mr. Thornside had taken off for Castelia to visit his son for two weeks, leaving her not only in charge of the store, but also in charge of the Combee hives that provided the little farm with its livelihood.
To be honest, bug Pokemon were her least favourite, so it was with a bit of dread that she had woken up and made her way to the farm, an half-hour's bike from Village Bridge, where she rented a room from a very nice elderly couple. When she pulled up outside the little, modest cottage with its old-fashioned, hand-painted sign ('Mr. Thornside's Honey Farm - Our Honey Will Stick!'...what did that even mean?), Beatrice took a moment to lean back on her bicycle seat and pull her thick, curly brown hair off her sweaty face and neck and up into a hair tie. Used to colder temperatures, the dry heat of Village Bridge made a near-perpetual flush rise on the tops of her cheeks, and her eyes were always narrowed, squinting in the sunlight.
Called anything from impatient to hotheaded to ill-tempered, Beatrice had never had a "magic touch" with Pokemon - born and raised in Icirrus City, encounters with Pokemon had occurred frequently throughout her childhood, yet she had never really felt the urge to have one herself. It was only when she had ventured farther from her home - to Opelucid City and further to the very ranges of the foreboding League Gates - on her fifteenth birthday with her mother had she caught her very first Pokemon.
There was a squawk from above, and Beatrice looked up, shielding her eyes against the sun with her palm. Wheeling into view, having followed her leisurely from Village Bridge, her Mandibuzz, Mandy, came swooping down from the skies.
When Beatrice had caught her as a Vullaby she had never thought she would get so attached - as a chick Mandy was baleful and angry and could bite like a motherfucker (and she wore a skull!), but she had proven a loyal companion, and pretty intimidating to boot - especially when she (finally) evolved!
With another cry, Mandy landed on Beatrice's handlebars (the weight of her nearly sending the bike topping over!) and delivered an affectionate, yet painful, peck to the top of her left hand. One of the unfortunate casualties of raising bird Pokémon - especially when you had no badges! - were the scars. Most prominently, the backs of her hands were perpetually skinned and scabbing from Mandy's "love pecks", and she had a particularly nasty scar over her left eyebrow from Mandy's days as an angry Vullaby.
If she had been smart, Beatrice thought to herself, as she unlocked the door to the cottage, left her bag in the kitchen and headed to the back room where the Pokéfood was kept (Mandy insisted on perching on her shoulder, the fat thing, craning her neck only to swipe a mouthful of food), she would've taken another, higher paying summer job in one of the big cities - most likely in Castelia, where she lived for school with her friend Callista. Then, Castelia was only a hop, skip, and a bike away from Nacrene, where her other schoolmate Nicholas currently interned. But no, she had to take a job she thought would be interesting, that she thought she could talk about when she went back to school.
"Oh, how was your summer, Beatrice? - Oh, just lovely, I sold honey...stupid, Beatrice." she muttered to herself, picking up the heavy bucket of Pokéfood and shuffling to the back door. To be honest, it creeped her out a little - Route 12 had rolling hills that obscured any nearby towns or settlements from her view, and made her feel ten times more isolated out in the open, by herself. Luckily, they were right in the middle of Route 12, which meant that there was enough traffic flow to keep them in business, but it could get lonely and wild out here, especially at night and in the early morning.
Stepping out into the backyard, Beatrice slowed her steps as she reached the large Combee hives that took up residence at the back by the fence, obscured from any would-be honey thieves by chain link and several large, thick leaves. The hives were tall enough for her to just about stand comfortably in. Combee were usually gentle and mild-mannered, affectionate even if you gave them treats, but they were never loud like this. The buzzing felt agitated, enough to give Beatrice the heebie-jeebies. On her shoulder, Mandy spread her wings, knocking her in the ear, and gave an equally agitated squawk. Beatrice reached up to ruffle the soft down of Mandy's belly.
"Easy." she murmured, and took a few steps towards the hives - as per instructions (Flying types were not welcomed warmly in Bug type nests), Mandy stayed outside, though with some reservations, perching on the top of one of the hives.
Inside, the Combee were moving, in a mass, paying no attention to Beatrice when she ducked her head inside to take a look. Near the back of the hive she could see the Vespiquen, perched there silently, her body vibrating with the same agitation felt in her worker Combee. Nervous herself for some unexplainable reason, Beatrice hurried to put out the food, which the Pokémon ignored, and then hesitantly approached the Vespiquen. The Pokémon looked back at her with her large, red eyes.
"Good morning," Beatrice said, hesitantly, filling a bowl with the special mix Mr. Thornside bought especially for the Vespiquens in his care (packed with nutrition, he said it made them happy). "I brought breakfast."
The Vespiquen studied her, then reached out and took the food. Relieved, Beatrice walked quickly backwards (never turn your back on a Vespiquen, she knew the drill!) and gave a quick, awkward goodbye to the Pokémon (she felt weird doing it, but Mr. Thornside insisted it made them make sweeter honey) - she narrowly missed running into a couple of Combees, and she was in and out of the two other hives in a matter of minutes, unwilling to remain in close proximity for long. The agitation was rubbing off on her, as much as she was reluctant to admit it.
As soon as she was done, Mandy was back to her, narrowed eyes unusually worried. Beatrice scratched her head.
"It's probably an off day." she explained, and shrieked when Mandy used her beak to scrape a bit of skin off her ear.
"You're a freak!" she accused, good-naturedly, as girl and Pokémon headed back into Mr. Thornside's cottage.
The rest of her day would have progressed like normal - lunch, opening the shop, spending most of the day reading or attempting to knit - but as she closed the door of the kitchen she heard her Xtransceiver ringing in her bag, which she had left carelessly on top of the table. Mandy helpfully flew towards it, but misjudged the distance and skidded over the slippery table's surface, effectively knocking the bag onto the floor.
"You're a menace, you know!" Beatrice told her, stooping to pick up her bag, and yowled when Mandy took another peck at her.
Swearing, Beatrice fiddled with her Xtransceiver, pressing her finger against her forehead and wondering if Mandy had drawn blood (again!) - as her friend Callista's face came into focus on the screen, Beatrice opened her mouth to give an excited greeting, but was stopped by the look on her friend's face: absolute panic.
Beside Callista's face, the second screen was still blank...Beatrice took a guess that she was also calling Nicholas - the three of them were extremely close.
"What's happened?" she demanded, all sorts of scenarios flashing through her mind, and Callista made a nervous face. That was Callista - she was always reluctant to say anything bad. Beatrice had to pull criticism from her like she was pulling teeth.
"Have you seen the news?" Callista finally asked, and Beatrice moved immediately to the small sitting room, where Mr. Thornside kept a very small television, a very green chair, and a very large amount of bookshelves.
There was a window that looked out over the yard area and the Combee hives, and as Beatrice mashed the power button with her thumb she looked out, repeating, "What's happened? Did your office burn down? Did our apartment burn down? Did Daisy - oh!" she'd just caught sight of the news, and commotion outside Nacrene Museum. Realization hit her and the two girls said nothing more as they stared anxiously at the little blank screen on both of their Xtransceivers.
"He totally got out, right?' Callista asked worriedly. "He probably can't hear it ring over the noise outside..."
"Yeah." Beatrice replied, after a beat, "Yeah. Totally. His desk is up front, right? He probably hightailed it out of there the second they - "
Abruptly the Xtransceiver was picked up, and there was only one or two seconds of video before it was hung up again. On the screen appeared a man with a mask over half of his face, eyebrows drawn, before it abruptly went black.
Beatrice gaped - Callista bit down on her thumb.
"Well, shit." Beatrice announced. "I'll meet you there?"
Callista was nodding, the background already blurring as she moved. "I'll meet you there."
As soon as Nicholas handed over his ring of keys to Sebastian, the man seemed to lose all interest in him.
"Go stand with your back to that bookshelf." the red-head waved a careless hand at the shelf closest to them, the one his Druddigon had taken up residence on, perched on top with its large front claws leaving indents in the wood.
Swallowing nervously, Nicholas complied, pressing back so the spines of the books dug into his own spine; the movement offered little comfort. He could hear the Druddigon breathing above him; at times, its breath even ruffled his hair. Tarsi, on his desk, made a movement as if to join him, but Nicholas shook his head quickly - he didn't want it to look as if he was resisting - and tried to make some noise of reassurance towards his Swadloon, who looked quite upset about everything.
Paying the little Pokémon no mind, Sebastian was now carelessly and methodically going through Nicholas' desk, pulling out drawers and letting them crash to the floor, throwing books in a pile in front of his desk. Nicholas watched him, alternating between that and watching the rest of the - gang? Cult? Heist? What was this, exactly? - as they, too, went through the bookshelves, leaving piles of books in their wake, pushing past the frightened hostages if they got in their way.
Sebastian straightened up, ran a hand through his hair. He looked frustrated. He turned his eyes on Nicholas - Druddigon let out a large snuff of air, which blew Nicholas' hair into his eyes.
"Why don't you show me where your boss keeps her research, Nicky?" he asked in that same quiet, dangerous tone. Hesitantly, Nicholas took a step away from the bookshelf.
"I don't have the keys to her office." he said, evenly. Sebastian looked at him the way one would look at a child having a temper tantrum.
"Are you sure?" he asked coolly. Again, that dangerous snuff of air from above him.
"Do you have keys to your boss' office?" Nicholas retorted without thinking; luckily, Sebastian only laughed.
"No, I suppose I don't." he conceded. "Then, show me where it is. Most of the time, I can get away without using any keys."
Druddigon roared, almost like a bark of laughter, and Nicholas, thinking of the books, panicked.
"I - you don't need keys." he admitted. "There's a book on one of the shelves...if you pull it, it opens her office."
Sebastian wrinkled his nose.
"Too time-consuming." he declared. "Druddigon can make her own entrance, hm, sweetie?"
Another roar, proud this time, and the Pokémon flapped her wings. Nicholas winced.
"Please don't." he begged, as Sebastian made to move off to the centre of the library. "There's research here that'll take months to replicate. Some of these books can never be replaced - "
"So?" Sebastian cut him off, unsympathetically. "You'd better find that book, then."
Druddigon snarled, and Nicholas practically scrambled past him. Sebastian followed, and as they passed Sebastian's colleagues the red-head said something to them in a low murmur.
Nicholas's mind raced. Lenora was in Opelucid, something about a conference - she would be back tomorrow. In the meantime, all her research was sitting neatly below them, in the basement room that used to double as a place for welcoming Trainers - Lenora had resigned from giving out the Basic Badge a couple of years ago. That honour fell now to a man named Cheren, in Aspertia City.
Nicholas had only been to Lenora's office once or twice - and at the time she would have been Gym Leader, he had never challenged the Gym - but he knew the hidden book in the back bookshelf opened the stairwell to her office.
It was which bookshelf that was the trouble. Luckily Nicholas knew that Lydia, one of the Trainers that had stuck around after the closure of Nacrene Gym, usually could be found quite near it, and once he found the bookshelf he had no trouble finding the book itself. Sebastian watched him as he pulled on the book's spine; over the grinding of the staircase's entrance opening, the red-head remarked, "You ever challenge the Gym?"
Nicholas snorted. "I can barely challenge myself to get out of bed without coffee, let alone a Gym." he joked weakly, starting down the stairs first at Sebastian's insistence. "Do I look like I would make a good League Challenger?"
Sebastian shrugged. "I thought you were." he offered plainly. "The way you talked about Pokémon..."
Nicholas focused on not losing his footing and didn't bother to reply to that baffling statement - below them, Lenora's office was pitch black.
"Hold on, the light switch is here..." he muttered, groping along the side of the wall. Behind them, Druddigon was snuffling at the top of the stairs.
When he snapped on the light, illuminating the rich, dark brown walls of Lenora's study, he breathed a sigh of relief. Normally, a visitor descending would see Lenora's large, spacious desk, which was on a raised platform. Behind that desk, the wall was covered in bookcases, housing all of Lenora's pain-stakingly gathered research, and rare books that were too old or valuable to be displayed openly upstairs. It seemed, however, that when Lenora was out of her office the bookshelves could be mechanically slid into the wall, protecting that material. The wall behind Lenora's desk was currently the same as all the others; smooth, brown, and paneled.
"I think she keeps some of her research in her desk." Nicholas lied as they moved further into the office - truthfully, the only things Lenora kept in her desk were an abundance of pens, a mound of scrap paper, and a bulk tin of lemon drops.
It took Sebastian about five seconds to discover this, and with a snarl he ripped the mask from his face, mouth set in a scowl, and barked, "Sweetie, tear this place apart!"
"Wait - !" Nicholas started, but Druddigon had already lunged forward, and with a great sweep of shimmering claws, the Pokémon sent Lenora's desk flying, crashing into one of the walls.
"Do you think I'm playing around?" Sebastian demanded as his Druddigon continued her destruction; he seized Nicholas hard, by the upper arm. "Do you honestly think I'm playing around, here?"
"I think you're crazy." Nicholas said, brazenly. "Doing all this, destroying all this research...for what? I've seen your face...everyone in the library saw your face! You'll be arrested, even if you manage to get out of here! What's the point?"
"I won't be arrested." Sebastian said, so calmly and matter of factly that Nicholas almost wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it. "And you won't understand, Nicky. Not at first."
Still maintaining a painfully tight grip on Nicholas' arm, Sebastian pushed him towards Druddigon, who had used her massive claws to punch through the wall hiding the shelves and was now clumsily pawing through books and articles, flinging them onto the floor in front of her owner.
"Clever." Sebastian remarked, with contempt, then violently shoved Nicholas so he went tumbling to the floor.
"I'm looking for a book called 'Dual Duelling Dragons'. Find it." he ordered bluntly; then, to his Druddigon, he ordered, "Watch him" before ascending the stairs.
Nicholas' knees ached from where he'd landed on the spines and edges of Lenora's books; when Druddigon began circling him, however, he pulled himself off the books so he could look through them.
So, he thought to himself, forcing his eyes to skim over titles, a group of people had destroyed a public building, taken hostages, vandalized the property of an ex-Gym Leader...and for what? A book? The title was wholly unfamiliar to him, as were the others he was currently whizzing by, shoving them hurriedly out of the way. He watched Druddigon out of the corner of his eye; now that her Trainer was gone, she looked bored, restlessly pacing, often sweeping a couple books across the floor with her large, cumbersome tail.
It was one of these skidding books that caught his attention, for no other reason than its cover had an emblazoned gold insignia on the front, a big round circle spiderwebbed with delicate lines and symbols that caught the dim office light. Nicholas crawled over to it, and flipped it open.
"Dual Duelling Dragons", it was printed in tiny type, and under it, "or, conversely, concerning two brothers".
This book was old, much older than any other book Nicholas had seen in this library. Some of the pages were crumbling, and the printing job was shoddy, leaving some letters bleeding together in a confusing, blurred mess. The book was thin and delicate, really not much longer or wider than his palm, and furtively Nicholas tucked it into his sweater, over his heart. Druddigon paced, unaware.
There was a great noise at the top of the stairs and Nicholas looked up, startled, as Tarsi came tumbling down, having obviously been kicked or thrown.
Sebastian followed, face screwed up in pain, shaking out his hand.
"It bit me, the little shit!" he complained in a whine to the person behind him. Nicholas noticed, with a bit of dread, that he had replaced his mask, but he was too busy bolting over to Tarsi, who was rolling himself upright with a pained little squealing sound.
"What the hell did you do that for?!" he demanded, cradling Tarsi in his arms, mindful of the hidden book.
Sebastian gave a careless shrug as he moved away from the stairs, allowing the masked man from before - the one who owned the Braviary and Heatmor - to fully descend. All Nicholas could fully see of his face were his eyes, and he was taking in Lenora's ruined office with a bit of disdain.
"Well? Did you find it?" he asked Sebastian, who in turn motioned to Nicholas, still crouched on the floor with Tarsi.
"Oh, shove off!" Nicholas snapped, bitterly. "I didn't find it, and honestly your Pokémon probably clawed it to bits. I hope you never find it!"
Sebastian looked, for the first time, a little nervous.
"You said it would be here." the man remarked with displeasure. "I risked my neck..."
"No, it's here." Sebastian sounded panicked, and stared Nicholas down. "I know it is, I did my research..."
Nicholas stared back; he knew it was impossible that Sebastian could know he had found and concealed the book, but he still felt nervous, and resisted the urge to place his hand over his chest.
The bark of a Herdier successfully distracted the two men, who turned mostly in annoyance than worry. The little Pokémon trotted down the stairs, sniffing experimentally in Nicholas' direction - the jingling bell on its collar alerted Nicholas to the identity of its owner, and he allowed himself to deflate in relief...about time!
"Sweetie.." Sebastian began saying to his Druddigon, but before he could say more the Herdier unleashed a Thunderbolt that stunned Druddigon long enough for Nicholas to scramble to his feet, Tarsi in his arms, and head for the stairs.
Hawes, Lenora's husband, was standing at the top of the stairs, Pokéball in hand. He looked relieved to see him.
"Nick!" he exclaimed. "Are you alright? Is Tarsi - "
"He's fine." Nicholas cut him off, quickly. "Hawes, quickly...they're after Lenora's research - "
They were interrupted as Hawes' Herdier was blasted backwards by Druddigon's deadly Dragon Claw.
"Poppy, here!" Hawes commanded and his Herdier tripped up the rest of the stairs, lithely, shaking off the hit with minimal incident.
"Nicky!" he heard Sebastian roar, angrily, and Nicholas tugged on Hawes' sleeve.
"Let's go!" he begged. "Let's get the rest of the hostages..."
"I took care of it," Hawes promised. "I came back to search for you - Paula told me you were still in here."
Nicholas inwardly reminded himself to buy Paula - who juggled a part time receptionist job at the museum with her budding interior decorating career - a month's worth of morning coffee runs.
Sebastian was taking the stairs now, two at a time, Druddigon at his heels, but there were police officers swarming into the library - Nicholas couldn't see the other members of Sebastian's gang but he supposed the police officers had taken care of them.
Sebastian froze on the steps, Druddigon snarling behind him. He was staring at Nicholas with his too-bright blue eyes, and after a moment Nicholas realized, in his fright, that he had pressed his palm flat against his chest, over the book he had stolen.
"You - " Sebastian began, but the voice of the man downstairs stopped him cold.
"Well, I suppose we must count this as a failure." Sebastian half-turned on the stairs, towards his boss's voice, but not before Nicholas caught the look in his eye - weirdly triumphant.
"No, I think we got what we came for after all." Sebastian replied smugly; then, to Druddigon, he ordered, "Flash Cannon!"
The Pokemon gathered up a brilliant light that had Nicholas squinting, and beside him he heard Hawes exclaim, angrily, amidst the clamour of the police officers. There was a tremendous noise, like a building collapsing, and when the light faded...
"They're gone!" one of the officers shouted - a hole had been blown through the back wall of the library, and Sebastian and the strange man had both escaped on the back of Druddigon, who was already in the air. Nicholas, having moved aside to allow the police officers by (some attempted to pursue, some filed into the basement to investigate), squeezed Tarsi tighter to his chest, mind still reeling.
Hawes put a friendly, almost fatherly hand on his arm.
"You sure you're alright, Nick?" he asked, kindly. "Not hurt, or...?"
"If you don't mind," Nicholas said, a little shakily, hand slipping into his sweater to press, reassuringly, against the infuriatingly mysterious book against his chest, "I was thinking of taking the afternoon off."
Hawes gave him an incredulous look, and his Herdier yapped.
"My dear boy," he said good-naturedly, "I should think you'll be taking the rest of the week off, with what you've been through. I'll let Lenora know."
Nicholas didn't argue too hard about that!
Callista tore out of Jack's shop without so much a word of goodbye (she owed him coffee, for sure - then again, as Beatrice always said, Callista created a whirlwind wherever she went...Jack must be used to it by now), heading towards her apartment as fast as she could. She kept her bike in her apartment's kitchen; with luck, she could be changed and on Skyarrow Bridge within a half hour. Daisy gave a little cry, barely avoiding an irate, bustling businessman in a suit, as she floated after her owner.
"Daisy, c'mon!" she urged, unknotting her hair from its bun and slinging it over her shoulder. Daisy made an irritated gurgling noise and floated higher, out of the reach of any accidental human shoulder bumping.
Judging by the friction in her shoeCallista suspected she had a run in her stocking, but she was past the point of caring; all she could think about was Nicholas, and the museum.
She'd met Nicholas in art history class - she'd taken it just to fill an elective but it was Nicholas' major. Nicholas had been one of her first friends at Castelia University, Callista having moved from a small town to attend school, and the two had hit it off. If anything had happened to him...
Callista's apartment was in a newly renovated building - called "Sages' Landing", the building used to house offices, across from Castelia Gym, until new management had transformed the place into a set of affordable one- and two-bedroom apartments. Fitting her key into the front door, Callista held the door open with her foot so Daisy could slip through, and then jammed her thumb anxiously against the elevator button, headed for the sixth floor.
She shared her apartment with Beatrice, normally, when her friend was here during school, but with Beatrice working out of town, they had agreed that they would rent the second bedroom out for the summer months. Currently Beatrice's room was occupied by Jonah, a quiet, keep-to-himself kind of guy, who had come in from Sinnoh on a boat and was working at Studio Castelia for the summer. Jonah kept weird hours for work, so Callista didn't bother call out a greeting when she entered the apartment, kicking her shoes off and hastening for her bedroom.
The apartment was in a constant state of disarray. There was a suitcase near the sofa that hadn't been unpacked since her second year of university, probably, and the big easels she used for school projects took up one side of the living room. Callista's bike was by the sliding glass door that led out onto the woefully tiny balcony (barely enough room to stand comfortably, forget about chairs!), and there were a pile of books Beatrice had been meaning to read since she was seventeen sitting on a side table full of other assorted knick-knacks. It was cramped and dirty but it was theirs - the walls were covered in Callista's past art projects, the ones she hadn't sold, and Beatrice had taken to filching posters from every movie they went to see at Castelia Theatre and tacking them up in the living room.
Beatrice's bedroom door was shut tight, usually meaning Jonah was out, and from where she stood Callista could tell she left the lamp on in her own bedroom.
She moved forward, beginning to unbutton her blouse, but Daisy blocked her from moving forward, curling her body inward in a Defense Curl.
"Daisy, what - " she began, and then someone dropped something in her room.
She froze.
"Jonah?" she called, with a bit of irritation. "Jonah, I told you - they're not "crayons", they're pastels, and they cost more than all of those ratty jeans you own put together so no, you can't use them to make birthday cards!"
Daisy had pushed her head into Callista's midsection, attempting to push her backwards, but Callista was already at her bedroom.
She and Beatrice had played rock paper scissors for this "master bedroom" - really, it was only a little bit bigger than the other bedroom, but the reason the two of them fought over it was because of the windows (lovely, big ones that looked over the back of the apartment building, which housed a pretty little communal garden) and the hardwood floors, blonde wood that creaked comfortably under Callista's feet and reminded her of her childhood home in Undella Town.
Right now nearly a quarter of the hardwood floor had been ripped up, and there was a man crouched over the ruined floor, dressed in black, a mask obscuring his features. A Liepard slunk around him, tail curling in the air.
Callista's mouth worked soundlessly for a moment. The Liepard hissed, and Daisy, still pressed against Callista's stomach, began humming gently, gathering energy for a Zen Headbutt.
The man raised a palm. "Maybe you can help me." he began.
Callista screamed.
The grass on either side of Beatrice made a weird, dry, whistling sound as she whizzed by on her bike, headed for Village Bridge. She had closed up Mr. Thornside's shop immediately, grabbed her bike, and left, meaning to use what she had kept nestled away in her cupboard for the past couple of months - an HM given to her by a Ranger she'd met in Castelia City when she worked at the docks there last summer.
In Unova, there were several ways of getting around, one of the most well-known to Trainers, of course, being the use of the move Fly, which gave the Pokemon that learned it a burst of speed and strength allowing it to propel its Trainer from city to city - even if there was an almost comical disparity in size. Once or twice, Beatrice had thought to use it on Mandy, but the idea of hanging onto her Pokemon's leathery feet from here to Castelia or Nacrene (and Mandy was known to bite if she got testy) had never quite appealed to her.
Mostly, city-dwellers would rely on the trains; there were several high-speed ones that connected major cities (Nimbasa, Castelia, Opelucid, etc...) with an ease and convenience most people preferred. If you didn't have a Pokémon, you were safe from wild ones on the high-tech trains; if you did, the train's policy allowed you to let them out on board, free to wander; there were even Pokésnacks available from convenient machines or food carts wheeled down the aisles on longer trips. One of the major Unovian routes stretched north to south and another east to west, effectively hitting most of the big cities.
For the smaller towns - places like Lacunosa and Village Bridge definitely did not have the luxury of a high-speed train! - there were two options; the slower speed trains, mostly above ground (as opposed to the high speed Subway, whose route was split half above and half under-ground) and a mix of cargo transport and passenger transport; and buses. The bus system was extensive, hitting nearly all the places the trains missed - cheap too, but unfortunately slow! Beatrice had taken the bus to Village Bridge from Icirrus City (and had ended up bawling when the bridge had come into view, desolate and simple and so, so lonely looking - an elderly lady going to visit her sister, who had the misfortune to be sitting next to her on the bus, had been awkwardly left with the task of comforting her).
It hadn't always been this way. Beatrice's grandmother could tell her stories of never leaving her hometown; growing up with the same friends, marrying her next door neighbour, and never seeing the other side of Unova until her eldest son's wedding, an extravagant vacation that took her to bustling Nimbasa, where she was overwhelmed. And Unova was a bit of an isolated case; in Hoenn, trains were expensive and slow to cross the expansive land (and on top of that, service was limited by the large expanses of water); Kanto and Johto, miles away, kept their sense of traditionalism intact, and towns and cities found themselves isolated and the journeys between them possible only for those with a hardy Pokémon. Unova, in contrast, seemed a little more...accessible.
Some Pokémon emerged at the edge of the grass, curious but wary of the sound of her bike's tires; most of them went scuttling off, though, when they heard Mandy's screech, and the beat of her wings as she dipped low, over her owner's speeding figure. The Route was unusually empty - it was still early afternoon, so she knew a couple of Trainers (only by sight, really) who were continually out on the Route, training their Pokémon. On a hot day like this, maybe, they had all taken a break.
Suddenly, Mandy started squawking, a high, frantic sound that made her wince. Beatrice looked wildly around, expecting maybe a hidden Trainer or aggressive Pokémon that her Mandibuzz was warning her about...but everything was silent, save for the weird, whistling grass.
Above her Mandy continued to kick up a fuss and, craning her neck, Beatrice squinted as her Pokémon's silhouette against the bright sun went wheeling sharply left, over one of the hills.
Beatrice looked back towards the path...and squeezed her brakes so hard she went flying over the front of her bike and onto the grass, sending up a spray of dirt and scraping up her arms.
There was a Pokémon standing in the middle of the road, silent, unafraid; its sharp eyes watched her as she struggled up into a sitting position, mouthing pained curse words into her palm. Above, Mandy circled, once, twice, before descending, perching on the end of Beatrice's up-ended bicycle.
Working her jaw (she was pretty sure she scraped up her cheek), Beatrice felt oddly reassured by the weighty presence of her Pokémon behind her, and took a good, long look at the creature in front of her.
She suddenly understood Mandy's uneasiness. In all her time at Mr. Thornside's place, she had never seen this Pokémon in the wild before. She had seen it before, though, in storybooks her mother had read her when she was a child, and in legends.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" she asked it, as Entei, legendary dog of Johto, pawed the ground and stared her down with impenetrable eyes. Mandy squawked, and to the south, dark clouds heralded the coming of a storm.
END CHAPTER ONE
Author's Notes: If you are reading this, I can't believe you got through everything. Thank you for having an interest in this story! This is definitely going to be a work in progress - I had so much trouble deciding on a "time" to set this in and will probably be going back to edit and re-edit this as the story builds. I wanted this to be set post B/W, for sure, but I wanted the characters to remember the events of B/W as happening when they were children. Originally I had hoped that B2/W2 would not specify how long it had been since B/W events so that I could "play" with that time in between the two games - I feel like one could reasonably argue Cheren and Bianca's redesigns could place them either as teenagers or as young adults. People seem to age quite well in these games!
On the official Pokémon website, however, I realized it cites that B2/W2 takes place 2 years after B/W, which means I don't have as much leeway as I would have hoped. A part of me was hoping I could slip this story in between the two games - I haven't played B2/W2 yet and didn't want to spoil too much of the plot for myself beforehand. However, it looks like there's no way around it - I want seven years, and game-canon is giving me two! The hardest part will be keeping the changes straight in my head...I had to go back and re-write a bit when I remembered that Cheren was the one giving out the Basic Badge now.
Er...might be a bit too late (sorry) but as such, there will be spoilers. Nothing too major...I really want to focus on the lore and the mythology and the interaction of humans and Pokémon, etc... rather than talking about N and Hilbert and company. Obviously you can't go through Unova without running into a few familiar faces, but this is primarily an OC story - I am warning you now!
I think that's everything I wanted to explain. I really hope you enjoy...stay tuned for more!