They scuttled on for ages, rampaging through each and every local Pokemon they could find in the Dusk forest. Of course Grovyle was doing most the work. His leaf blade left enemies choking for air, while his team behind him were mucking around aimlessly.
He was followed by a Cyndaquil called 'Log' who was prone to dazing off into space at the most unfortunate times, like his mind had to go to the toilet or have a meal. Grovyle never believed his real name was 'Log', he just assumed that he'd accidentally hit the start button instead of backspace while entering his name and couldn't be bothered to restart five minutes in.
Another team member was Log's deranged, amorous Chikorita sidekick Peach. Every conversation became cringe worthy whenever she tried to seduce Log… which was every conversation.
And finally there was Celebi, his deluded companion who he had shared many painful memories with. She would flirt with everyone and everything. The local Pokemon, the local Spiritomb, the trees, the dirt, Dusknoir, Primal Dialga – nothing would escape her constant flirting. She also needed attention. Lots of attention. She'd just spent the past hour performing acrobatics, seeking some sort of complement from Grovyle like a desperate, lost child.
Grovyle was obviously happy that they were almost at the time tunnel thing. Soon they'd be able to warp back in time and try saving the world… again. He'd already made seven attempts, and six of those resulted in not a single time gear being found.
Moving on they hit a clearing, a quiet little conveniently placed, totally not an ambush, area for Log and Chikorita to pretend they've actually contributed to the group effort and now deserve the privilege of rest.
"I think we should save here," said Log, wandering up to one of the bizarre statues placed throughout the world.
"What? We can't stop now, we're almost there!" Grovyle shouted, pointing in the direction of the portal.
The team ignored him. Log smashed his face against the statue for whatever reason while Chikorita collapsed onto her side and began to snore like a garbled swine. Next, Celebi gleefully landed on Grovyle's head, becoming more irritating than an athlete's foot infection, which Grovyle also had. He scratched the place between his two toes.
"Get off me!" he shouted, pushing Celebi off his head with one hand while scratching his foot with the other.
Celebi examined the infection closer. "Ooooh! Athlete's foot. That's not good." She punched the air enthusiastically. "I can help you get rid of that pesky infliction!" She immediately lit up her use of the move heal bell, which did nothing.
"This is athlete's foot, not burn or poison."
"It's a really versatile skill, it could have worked."
"Couldn't you have learned something useful? Something which could vaporize the internal organs of our enemies?"
Celebi sighed cheerfully. "Somebody had to be the priest, so I took the role."
"Right…" Grovyle lost interest, and apathetically turned his gaze towards his other companions, who sat on a log with exhaustion, their tongues dropping out of their mouths like they expected someone to put butter there. "I went to their time, Celebi. The sun was so bright, it lit up the world brighter than a fire could light up one room. I dreamed of it before, imagining that it must be bright… bright enough to saturate the grass at least… but not as bright as the reality… those bastards took for granted something even my dreams couldn't muster!"
"Oh, Grovyle. You're just being dramatic." He looked at her in the same way a pensioner would look at the local incorrigible youth, "of course they would take it for granted. If you were born into a world which was still the same twenty years later would you be grateful for it?"
"I would be grateful for what I have."
She giggled painfully. "I'm sure you would be, but they wouldn't have any reason to be if it's perpetual. It's like you expect them to be grateful for their bread to taste like bread."
"I don't know what bread tastes like!"
"Alright, alright." She put a hand to his shoulder, "different example: it's like you expect them to be grateful that the concept of love exists."
He grunted with vulgarity. Love? You could find more use in use high school dropouts, and at least they didn't provoke the existence of shipping, mainly because they were too busy loitering around the local supermarket doing nothing.
"I love you, Grovy." She wrapped her arms around his neck, torturing his poor face into a discomposed cringing red mess.
"Stop it. I…" he was contemplating many conflicting opinions in his head…
"You have got to be kidding me…" one opinion would have stated in his head, "this is a huge waste of time." This opinion resembled reason.
"Quite right. I think I'm going to throw up," called another opinion, or rather an ambassador of the stomach.
Another opinion demanded some sort of attention too, squealing obscenely. "Now… kiss!" Grovyle named this opinion the lecher.
As those ideas ticked around his head in a continuous loop he experienced a runtime error. After rebooting, he pushed Celebi aside. "Wonderful. Should we get going?"
"Waaaaaaaaaait…" She grabbed him again. "Log and Peach look so tired. They're sleeping like sentient muffins, isn't it adorable?"
Grovyle performed a face palm which could put shame to a Hariyama's force palm. "The portal is literally twenty meters away!"
She bit her lip dubiously, fixated on stopping Grovyle, to make him think – or rather feel – for a second. "Save tonight." She whispered before throwing herself at Grovyle, flooring him and passionately planting a kiss on his lips.
His eyes shot open with enough shock to power a city's streetlights for one night. His mind was finding it difficult to interpret this. For one, an entity many times smaller and light just floored him effortlessly. Second, he was snogging Celebi and fourth he was snogging Celebi! Just look at all these logical errors!
In other words, his instincts took over, generously I might add. If a conscience existed inside Grovyle then it must have felt goodness may be sought in returning the love, embracing these primitive instincts, blah blah blah.
So, anyway, they probably spent what they had assumed to be their last night together getting dirtier than a prostitute from Gomorrah before packing up their very few meagre possessions to head in the opposite direction of the portal with their lives relished. The quest for sunlight and saturation…? To Grovyle, it didn't matter, kissing Celebi seemed to add all kinds of vibrant hallucinations to his vision.
"Besides, 'a short time' is not conducive." Celebi reassured, "we can go back and stop Dialga going all booboo whenever, I was speaking relative to about one century."
They at least had the decency to chuck Log's Peach's unconscious bodies through the portal so they could finish everything up… and that's what they did. It took a few months, but with the assistance of the guild they somehow managed to get all the time gears and head to the Hidden Land and everything. How did they know what to do? Bidoof was secretly a professor of mythology.
Dusknoir? He tried to stop them, but he was too French to arrive on time.
And then it was implied that everyone in the future disappeared along with Log. Log returned at Dialga's mercy at least, but no one was quite sure how to feel about ruining Grovyle's and Celebi's relationship by wiping it from existence, even if it did escalate quicker than light…
Kind of a sad ending when you think about it… unless they too were saved by Dialga. Doesn't seem likely, though, being that they selfishly abandoned the quest of saving him…
The End?