I do not own Pokemon or any of the songs used in this chapter.
[UPDATED 23 MAY 2016] Slight change to evolution mechanics.
Chapter 4: Journey of a Thousand Miles
Mid-December, 2001
{3rd Person}
There was no snow; it never snows in Arizona.
That's what Michael had been told when he had asked his father about it approximately a year ago from the present. As he looked outside of the limousine window, he was once again reminded of his father's wisdom. The clouds were present, keeping the sun from smiling upon the somber day.
To his left was his mother, and to her left, Matthew. Neither one of them felt any emotion but sadness and longing for the past and future simultaneously. But of all three of them, Michael's mother, Dawn, felt depression at the deepest level. Neither one of them spoke a word since they had entered the black vehicle; there was no need nor desire: they all knew what was to come from what had happened.
Dawn wore a black sundress with a short, black jacket made of wool to protect her from the December cold. The black fedora on her head served no purpose of fashion, but to hide her eyes when the time would come. Both children wore matching tuxedos, black along with the collared shirts and tie underneath.
Not even the driver spoke. Both his job, experience and morality prevented him from doing so. It wasn't his place to talk; yet, he felt almost a similar sense of sadness from the atmosphere. Perhaps he would light a cigarette, or maybe pour himself a glass of bourbon, once the day was over. But that was a long time from now. He had a job to do. Maybe another day would come where the setting was lighter than today.
But for the family in the back, a lighter day wouldn't come for years.
As the driver pulled into the driveway of his stop, Dawn let out a deep sigh, knowing what was to come in the next few hours.
"Come on boys, let's go," she said, almost whispering to the both of them. Neither one dared to say anything back; both had just as slowly exited the limousine with matched expressions. Dawn tipped the driver and thanked him for his services to which he obliged by tipping his cap. He gave her his next time scheduled for return and he left.
She turned to look at the entrance gate to the cemetery. Friends and family alike were gathered together, sharing conversations with one-another far off from the family of three. Dawn took the hands of both her sons and the three began walking the pathway to the small gathering.
When they had gotten closer, Michael could recognize some of the people there. His cousins, uncles and aunts, and both sets of grandparents. Others he didn't recognize, but remembered as friends and colleagues of his mother and father. Every single one of them wore black, almost making it impossible to distinguish one from another of the same gender.
When they arrived, the adults, careful to not overwhelm her, gave their respects to Dawn, to which she thanked them quietly and with an attempted smile, but all had seen the grief behind it. The children, not as subtle as the grown-ups, had gathered around Michael and Matthew, who never left within arms-distance of each other.
As much as they tried to cheer the two of them up, the two children of interest, still unable to understand everything around them, couldn't be shaken from their thoughts.
"I'm sorry about what happened."
"This really sucks, dude, I'm sorry."
"At least he's in heaven."
"My dad says there's no such thing."
"Yes there is!"
"I know how you feel."
As each child spoke, the two brothers fell deeper into the pit of despair. None of their friends and cousins knew how they felt. To have someone they loved ripped from them without warning – without question.
Soon, the pastor had arrived, greeting the widow and her two sons before the other attendees. He made sure to smile in hopes to lighten the atmosphere despite the somberness of the day. It wasn't his first time doing this, but it certainly wouldn't be his last. The routine of these kinds of days were always the same. He was only there to provide comfort as well as send the departed off into the next world.
As time passed on through the day, the attendees took their seats surrounding the podium, mural, and the coffin waiting to be placed into the ground. The family of three had reserved seats in the front.
When all seats were taken, the pastor had begun his rehearsed speech.
(Amazing Grace)
"Friends and family, Dawn, Matthew, and Michael, we are all gathered here today in the remembrance of the deceased: Christopher Alex Blake. A little over three months ago, Christopher had taken a business trip to New York. Three days in, the World Trade Center, his place of work at the time, was attacked… by a band of cowards and lost souls. Thousands had died in the incident and millions of families had suffered due to these acts against God…"
As he went on, also bringing people to the podium to share their thoughts and condolences on the subject, Michael had stared at the grass below him, tuning himself out from the speeches of his father's relatives and associates. No matter what they had said, no words would bring his father back. No matter how deep they were, they did not serve any justice.
Once everyone had taken their turn to speak, the pastor had taken the podium again.
"Hearing the words of Christopher's cherished friends and family, I feel as if I had known him myself," he said while looking down. "I want you all to remember and hold on to the words you have spoken here today. It may not seem like it, but Christopher hears the emotions you have non-verbally spoken through your hearts. He has moved on to a better place, and I know he would want that for you all when the time is right. I don't believe he would want us to grieve, but rather celebrate his entrance into the Lord's almighty and everlasting kingdom…"
Again Michael had tuned out for the rest of the pastor's speech. He didn't want to hear any more from others. The only person's voice he wanted to hear right now was his father. He didn't care what it took. Though he knew it to be impossible, he still would have done anything to have him back – or just long enough to say goodbye to him in person.
As the pastor finished his speech, he began praying while the crane lifted Michaels father, Dawn's husband, into the ground. Two men came and started shoveling dirt on the coffin, burying the deceased from sight.
But as they were doing so, the thunder rolled and water began falling from the sky in little trickles. While everyone, the pastor included, pulled out umbrellas, the family of three just sat there as the men with the shovels continued working.
Michael hoped that it was snow instead, maybe as a sign that his father was watching. He curled his lips slightly into a smile, knowing that it was only rain, that it would only be rain.
There was no snow; it never snows in Arizona.
Present
{Michael's POV}
The next couple of days flew by quickly and without any noteworthy occurrences. Except for maybe the fact that my injuries were practically non-existent by the third day living here. Melanie had been right when she said that my 'aura' or whatever it was called would heal me faster than normal. A practical 2-month recovery had been shortened down to two days. Now all that was left was some slight soreness and stiffness.
But that was insignificant now; what was actually important was the event of the day. Today would begin my hopefully short journey to meet the legendary dragon: Rayquaza. But to my dismay, Melanie had planned out the schedule of our trip and estimated the time to arrive at about two weeks from now.
Starting today, we would take a short journey on boat to an island, much greater in size than the one Melanie resides on, by the name of Mossdeep: another familiar name. Shortly after our arrival there, she offered to fly us both, in her dragon form to my excitement and displeasure, to a secluded village in the dead center of an ancient crater.
According to her, the reason behind this detour was because Rayquaza resided in a tower built by an ancient civilization to the southwest of the said village by the name of Sootopolis. Seeing as it was deadly to anyone that dared to enter, the villages and cities across the landmass of Hoenn had agreed to place guards at the foot of the tower to prevent anyone from risking their lives. The only way to gain access was by special permission from the chieftain of that village who usually only allowed entrance to priests that would leave gifts in order to keep Rayquaza pleased and uninfluenced from wanting to destroy everything. Now when she said that it was banned by anyone, she meant everyone. The tower was off limits to all human personnel that weren't there to only leave gifts upon the first floor.
But for our mission, which was to go to the top and speak directly to this fearsome dragon, Melanie planned to ask for special permission from the chief using my situation as an alibi.
Now after gaining this permission and speaking to Rayquaza him… her… itself, everything that transpired afterwards would be up to me and how I saw fit to return to my home-world.
Seeing this as the situation, I sought to figure my next move for when I return to my world: what I would do then and how I would go about doing it. I had enough time… about two weeks to be precise, if she was right.
But as of now… I'm stuck…
…
I'm stuck fighting with this goddamned mutt in combat… yet a-fucking-gain.
"Why on earth did you agree to this?" Melanie asked me in disappointment as I stood on one end of the battlefield (her front 'yard') while Riolu stood opposite of me. We both panted heavily from moving around the field. I was shirtless wearing only a pair of loose fitting pants that were light enough to maneuver in. and Riolu… well… he was just naked.
"I don't know?! Why did you agree to this?!" I argued back.
You see, Riolu had gotten all pissy-pants because he couldn't 'protect Melanie from me.' Or so he said. So being the smartass, dumbass, con-man I am, I gave him the opportunity, no, privilege of facing me in a fight. When I win, he would stay here and looked after Chance. If he won, he would come along with us and Meganium would look after Chance. Melanie agreed, somehow thinking I would have the advantage after being able to conjure up these 'aura spheres' from practicing the last couple of days.
However, as proven by multiple aura spheres to the face and side, we immediately regretted the decision.
"*Sigh,* I'm asking myself the same thing," Melanie mumbled under her breath.
"So you gonna make your move, Mutt, or am I gonna have to finish this myself?" I taunted. Immediately after, he charged up an orb and began sprinting toward me. I mimicked his movements and we both headed for a collision course. The sneaky little bastard, however, thrusted his orb to the ground, creating a cloud of dust that rendered my vision ineffective.
Thanks to my senses, I detected an attack coming from my left side, and I dodged forward thusly. Escaping the cloud off sand, I looked back and threw my sphere into it, believing the mutt to be somewhere inside. Hearing a yelp, I grinned in success; but I had not planned for him to come running out with a fucking stick made of aura in his hand-paw or whatever it was. I was caught off-guard, and the mutt began beating my legs senseless as I struggled to run from him and his stick.
"OW! FUCK! STOP THAT! OW! SHIT!" I yelled from the pain. I threw a sphere at him to which he dodged. Using his maneuver as a distraction, I grabbed the stick and threw another one at him to knock him back a few feet. I had the advantage now.
Though, despite the turn around, he seemed almost indifferent to the fact I had stolen his little switch.
'Oh well, payback time," I thought. Closing in on him, I threw another sphere to throw him off balance before charging my arm backwards to swing his own staff at him.
But at my disappointment, he simply sidestepped the aura sphere and took the hit from the stick, which evaporated as soon as I thought it had made contact. While I was dumbstruck from what just happened, the little mutt formed another one and began swinging it at me again.
I became angrier with him and myself for what happened. This dog was relentless; the only way I would probably win was to put him in a choke-hold or something of the sort.
Settling on that idea, I turned around and used my foot to sweep his feet, effectively tripping him. Pouncing on him, I looked for the best window of opportunity to trap his arm or neck into submission.
Needless to say, I was not expecting him to launch me back after barely touching my chest with his paw.
"Can't we just call this a draw and move on?" Melanie asked from the sidelines. I looked at her and smirked.
"Never," I said in defiance, but when I looked back to my target, he was holding a scimitar made of aura to my chest. Through all the adrenaline running through my veins, I had barely realized he actually stabbed me.
All you have to do
Everything became muffled except for that little whisper in my head that I couldn't clearly define. Melanie's voice drifted off into the background and my vision darkened as visions of my past deployments came to haunt me.
There was so much blood in those memories. So much that pools of blood gave birth to shiny, crimson figures slowly walking towards me like zombies. I felt as if I had been put into a nightmare for a moment.
Let go
This wasn't a spar anymore: this was a war. A war between life and death that possessed my logical reasoning, forcing myself to act in survival. Losing myself to primal, veteran instinct, I firmly grabbed the blade of Riolu's scimitar with both hands. Melanie's voice started gaining volume, but not enough to influence me to cease my actions.
I was gasping for air without legitimate reason at this point. It was like my body had been taken over by something darker than the things I have already seen. I slowly struggled to raise the sword from my chest as Riolu seemed to have no problem in working against me.
"BOTH OF YOU STOP!" I heard Melanie yelling clearly. This brought me out of my trance and without planning to, I loosened my grip on the blade. However much attention Riolu gave her at this point, he still applied force on the blade, causing it to cut my palms and thrust toward my chest.
Thanks to Melanie, or so I assumed, the scimitar had frozen millimeters from my chest and dissolved into the air in wisps. I breathed a sigh in relief while the mutt merely huffed and walked away, but not out of the vicinity.
Wincing from pain, I looked at my hands. Two streaks of broken flesh oozed blood that dripped and stained the ground beneath me. Focusing on peace in mind, I emanated two aura spheres in each hand that took on the form of fire more than an orb. I gritted my teeth as the flames cooked and burned the wounds on my palms before sealing them up like they weren't even there. It was a technique that Latias taught me yesterday.
Evidently there was more than one way to heal yourself if you had aura abilities. Most of which come with time and training and the effects differ with each technique as well as each patient. For example, if I was more advanced in healing, I would be able to patch myself up in no time with little to no discomfort at all. But to another with this ability, they would only feel a little discomfort while a target with no aura power whatsoever would yelp in pain.
This was because, from my understanding of Melanie's own intake on it, every living organism – plant, animal, bacteria, etc. – has their own aura, their own soul so to speak. Aura is like a collection of cells: they are produced, serve their purpose, and wither away to make room for another cell. That being said, people produce aura unknowingly like cells. Those with my ability produce an abundance of Aura to the point where it must be released. This allows the wielder of this ability to manifest and manipulate his own aura within the palm of his hand however he may choose, given he has the proper training. Now when healing a living organism, you are giving your unique aura, which is like your DNA, to another. This causes a reaction that forces the patient's aura to reject the donor's aura like white blood cells fighting a virus, bringing pain to the patient. However, given the amount of Aura infused by the donor, the donor's aura can suppress the patient's aura, if given enough time, and heal the patient's injuries. This new aura will eventually transform into the patient's aura, almost leaving no trace that there was even a donor nor an injury.
Long story short, while I thought it stung to heal myself five minutes ago, using that technique to a human with no ability would bring them immense pain to the point of passing out before being healed.
I turned around to see Riolu rolling around on the ground while clutching his head. It sounded like he was whimpering from a headache; to which I looked to Latias for explanation.
"Not that I care or anything, but is the Mutt alright?" I asked her. That was when I noticed her eyes were glowing that same golden light.
"He will be…" she answered bubbly. Her tone took a turn to that of seriousness. "But I don't know about you. What was that back there?" She asked with folded arms.
"Umm… a battle?"
"I know that Michael, I'm talking about when you went crazy. You looked like you were possessed, like something that Riolu did set something off in your-"
"I don't wanna talk about it," I said blankly. Seeing her worried face, I sighed and gave her a more descriptive answer. "It has something to do with my past. I'll tell you when I know you better. But for now, just drop it." I felt I stated it a little harsh… but whatever Matthew did to my trust, my history in the military did exponentially worse to my mind.
However, she didn't seem to mind how I said it.
"Alright, just don't forget to tell me when the time comes," she said, moving on from the topic.
"So since you stopped the fight… who won?" I asked, crossing my fingers in hopes she said it was me.
"I told you both, it was a draw. Seeing as Riolu's challenge stated he would come with us if he defeated you, his lack of definite victory settles that he is staying here."
"Rau!?" the mutt exclaimed, breaking from his headache.
"Yes, you will stay here and look after Eevee-"
"Ahem…" I interrupted.
"You will stay here and look after Chance until we return," she said in mild frustration.
"Woah there, lady…"
"Melanie," she replied with an evil smirk.
"Melanie, what's with this 'we' crap? You gotta mouse in your pocket?" I asked grinning widely. I stared at her blank face, hoping she would crack a grin, until I remembered that I came from a different world. "Right, separate universe. Well, excusing the ingenious comedy of the '90s, who the hell said I was coming back?"
"Uggh fine! Until I return. You happy Michael?" She said in an irritated expression.
"A little less attitude and sold!" I exclaimed, once again hoping for some sort of reaction. "Note to self, Melanie's a buzzkill," I mumbled under my breath.
"I heard that!"
"Don't give a fuck," I boredly replied. To be honest, I just wanted to get the show on the road. Melanie was ready, the boat would be here in an hour, and I had to take another shower… or bath seeing as how this world lacked the futuristic advances of mine.
'Or at least this island does' I pondered. "Agh fuck it," I said, "Melanie, does this island have a lake on it?"
"Yeah, several," she yelled from across the front yard as she talked with Riolu, Chance, and Meganium.
"One that's on the way to the pick-up location with no risk of being sodomized by another other-worldly beast?" I added.
She turned to look at my face with a bewildered appearance on hers. From the way it looked, Meganium's eyes were just as wide. Riolu and Chance, on the other hand, looked lost.
"Do you really have to use that word in front of them?!" she asked in my head.
"Oh so you understand that word," I responded with a tinge of sarcasm, "Just… is the lake safe?"
"Yes, you're safe," she replied in a hurry as she returned to her conversation with the three other pokemon.
I pumped my fist in success and grabbed my shirt and the backpack Melanie lent me. It was a dusty, old thing; about 10 years old if I had to put a label on it. It was a single-compartment back with two cords for straps; it was like those kind in my world that the opening at the top could be loosened or straightened by pulling the cords. Its material was a type of leather made from 'Camerupt' hide, according to Melanie.
I didn't really care as I could deal with any kind or material as long as it had two straps. The waterproof feature of the leather was an added bonus.
"…dad…"
I looked around, wondering where that same voice came from. I've been hearing lately around the house, but no one seemed to know what I was talking about. And Riolu always just laughed and flicked and aura marble at the back of my head.
After putting on the plain, dark-green t-shirt, I walked over to the dragon-lady, who had finished her conversation with the three monsters that walked away towards the house.
"You ready there?" I asked, eager to get this trip underway.
"Yep," she said with a sigh. "So I'm assuming you want to take a bath in the lake?"
"Wow, can you read minds?" I asked with a sarcastic smile, as we began walking into the forest toward our destination.
"Really? I thought I told you-"
"I was joking. Damn, for someone who's 'connected' to me, you sure have a hard time with humor."
"I know humor," she barked in defense.
"Well then enlighten me with a joke," I challenged. The walk was silent for about a minute before she told her 'joke.'
"Knock Knock."
Ah, the famous knock-knock jokes, "Who's there?"
"Nanab." I had to take a double-take at her for the strange word, but I let her continue.
"Nanab who?"
"Knock knock." Wait a second.
"Um… who's there?"
"Nanab." Oh no, it can't be…
"Nanab who?"
"Knock knock."
'God, please don't let it be this,' I thought to myself, cringing at my prediction.
"Who's there?"
"Oran."
Fuck.
"Oran who?" I asked holding my breath.
"Oran-you glad I didn't say nanab?" To this, she burst out laughing uncontrollably, grabbing her side as we walked through the woods. I smacked my face in a face-palm and let out a large and annoyed sigh.
"Jesus fucking Christ, Melanie, if you're going to kill me, I'd rather you turn into a dragon and bite my head off instead of telling me a dead joke."
"I'm not going to kill you? Why would you think that?!" She questioned me with worry.
"Oh my god, that was a joke, Melanie." Sometimes I wish I could just strangle her without the fear of getting blown to bits.
"Oh… well it wasn't that funny," she mumbled almost as quietly as a whisper. "Why don't you tell a joke then?" I snorted.
"Yeah, how about no. My humor involves sarcasm, or for the most part, on-the-spot phrases. Whenever the opportunity reveals itself, then I say a small joke, then move on. It doesn't require actual jokes not to mention horrible puns and one-liners."
Things were silent for a bit, so I took this time to look around at the green scenery. I noticed enlarged ladybugs and caterpillars scaling the trees as well as giant butterflies flittering around above us. It almost seemed like a little slice of paradise.
"Michael," Melanie called out to me.
"Yes milady?" I answered wittily.
"What does 'Jesus fucking Christ' mean?" she asked innocently. Now it was my turn to look at her in astonishment.
"What the hell?! Why would you just say that out of nowhere?!" I asked, slightly outraged by the choice of words. It wasn't exactly what she said, it was more of how she mentioned it like a child would ask their parents.
"Well you said it earlier and I don't understand what it means."
"Aggh! Look, it's 'Jesus Christ,' and he's a person. Long story short, I shouldn't have said that, and neither should you. Okay?"
She nodded, "Okay, but what does that other word mean? The one that you use all the time?" I thought helplessly for a moment trying to understand what word she was talking about. When it hit me, I wasn't surprised, but I wasn't exactly calm.
"What, you mean f… the 'f-word?'" She nodded looking into my eyes like she was looking for the answer inside of them. "Uhhh… it means…"
'Oh shit how do I say explain this to a dragon with the mindset of a child?' I asked myself. When I looked up, I noticed a lake ahead of us about 100 meters: my escape.
"Oh is that the lake? Gee-willikers I need to take a bath…"
"Don't change the subject!" she yelled as I ran off toward the body of still water.
"It means love!" I yelled to get her off my ass. The longer she was satisfied with a wrong answer, the more time I had to find out how to explain the right answer to her.
The next hour and a half was spent with me bathing and us two talking as we traversed through the woods with a semi-fast pace. Our conversation was spent talking about the vast differences as well as similarities that our worlds shared.
For instance, this world and my world both fruit: apples, oranges, you name it. However, the fruit of this world had donned the name 'berries' somewhere along the timeline. Along with this, these berries, though they had different colors, sizes, and tenderness, shared a striking, almost replicated, similarity to the fruit of my world; the names were just a bit off. Oranges were called 'orans,' bananas were called 'nanabs,' and tomatos were… well, just 'tomatos' (but with a different pronunciation).
As we walked between the trees, I pointed out several pokemon that I recognized from the video game. However, as expected, this world didn't call them pokemon at all. They didn't even have a name for these creatures when discussing them in general. There were only species names like 'butterfree,' or 'nidoran,' much like we distinguish animals as cats and dogs.
Something I was interested in understanding was the names of each species of pokemon. In this world, pokemon did not possess a name for each stage of evolution for a species. They were generally referred to a single name, one that we recognize, that represented their entire line. For example, a catetrpie or metapod in my world would be known simply as a butterfree larva or cocoon respectively. As for the nidoking species, they were all known as nidoran for the simple fact that the base evolution, or the newborns, branched off into different pokemon based off gender: essentially, nidokings are referred to as nidorans. The same rule applies to the opposite-gender counterpart of the species. I assumed that Melanie referring to that monster as nidoking was clarification on the species.
The general idea was that pokemon evolution was... well, a complicated process. In the wild, evolution was a sign of maturity. They grow those extra parts, gained in what I thought was evolution, as their life-span continues. But there are those who have become domesticated. Some see these as an entirely different breed as those found in the wild. They don't evolve at all because their evolution is only sparked by combat when they require the needed power and abilities. And when I asked Melanie about it, she told me she didn't want to talk about it. The only thing extra that she gave me was this: pokemon don't really evolve. They practically 'devolve.' They weren't always this cute and cuddly, the basic evolution that is. They were all born as they were in their final evolution, only smaller. As time progressed, and fighting between species declined, they reached a docile state that was easy to confuse for adorable. The reasons behind this were left a mystery as Melanie told me to drop the subject after asking her why this was.
So just gave up.
By the time we both had reached the shoreline, the sun had reached its peak in the day, bringing immense, tropical heat on our heads. It was quite the climate change from living in the snow about a conscious week ago. Needless to say, as much I hated the cold, having the sun beat down on me wasn't a particularly favorite pass-time.
"Are you sure this is the right shoreline?" I asked doubtfully.
"Yep, just wait. They'll be here shortly… look, you can see them coming off in the distance!"
Sure enough as I looked off into the horizon, there was a tiny vessel that looked like a miniscule pirate ship. As time passed and it came closer, it started to resemble that of a steam-powered boat. It had a metal body with the exhaust pipes protruding from the center. If I had to guess, using the sailors aboard as a means of measurement, I would say from bow to stern the entire vessel was about 35 meters long.
When the steam boat had anchored down about 50 meters from the shore, a lifeboat was dispatched and sent our way to pick us up. After a little bit of waiting, it arrived with a small crew of two men plus someone who looked like the guy in charge.
"Hello Miss Melanie, it's a pleasure to see you again," the man in charge of the lifeboat greeted. He had tan skin with short, wavy, black hair. His facial features put him at around 30 years old if the black stubble on his face was anything to go off of. From the looks of it, this man seemed to have seen some shit: he had a long scar running from his hairline through his right eye, which was appropriately covered by an eyepatch. As far as style went, he wore some old jeans and a white shirt with a dark blue overcoat and custom boots for his profession.
If I was still a child, I would have believed this guy was really a pirate.
"It's nice to see you again Dean," Melanie responded with a pleasant smile. Dean turned his view to me and gave me a once-over as if judging my appearance. I had the slight nerve to give him another scar on his left eye.
"Who's he?" He asked to my subtle discomfort.
"This is Michael. Through… unfortunate circumstances, he was shipwrecked and ended up on the island. He's got a bad case of amnesia though," she replied giving me an alibi to avoid attracting attention to myself.
"Amnesia eh?" He confirmed with doubt.
"Yeah it's really bad. He's forgotten where he came from and most of the major events in his life. He only remembers his name, unfortunately."
He looked back at me with a raised eyebrow with his mouth open as if he had paused chewing his gum. Then, in a swift motion, he put on a more relaxed face and smiled as he extended his hand.
"Dean Henderson, first mate to Abraham Sandoval, Captain of the Foresight. It's a pleasure to meet you mister…?"
I waited a second, then proceeded to mimic his exact movements down to the tee.
"Michael Blake, Staff Sergeant of Alpha Company, 1st Battalion of the 75th Ranger regiment, go fuck yourself," I said proudly and with a smile as I shook his hand firmly. Dean, on the other hand, left his limp like a fish.
"Fuck myself?" He asked.
'Yes! No one knows what this word means!"
"It means to wish you good fortune and luck," I falsely informed. Melanie, on the other hand, was as lost as ever. But Dean-bag over here couldn't see that on his own.
"I thought you said it meant 'love?'" Melanie asked in my head.
"I'll tell you about it later, just let me enjoy this moment while I can," I thought as I tried to communicate the same way in return. A telepathic 'okay' from Melanie confirmed for me that this mind-talking thing was a two-way bridge.
"Well… Then fuck us all on this voyage," Dean spoke heartily. My eyes widened and I had to take a second to remember he didn't know what that word really meant, otherwise I would be terrified to go anywhere near that damned boat.
I guess it wouldn't be the worst decision I ever made. I mean I have jumped out of an airplane before.
Both of us loaded ourselves and our packs on the lifeboat while Dean prepared the small crew to depart back to the main ship. Having never been on a lifeboat being elevated on the side of a ship, I seemed to be the only one who was nervous. Dean's rocking of the suspended vessel rewarded him with a stern glare from myself to which he simply laughed.
As we boarded the large steamboat, several crewmembers came near to welcome us as they passed by working on their duties. Others only waved as they came to Dean with reports on the ship's status. The way he talked to them and ordered them around was actually pretty impressive. He complemented the crew on their accomplishments of tasks. As we walked around to the captain's quarters, he gave encouragements to those too focused in their work for their own good. I noticed how when there was a mess on the deck or wall, he wouldn't criticize, but would order someone to clean it immediately. He looked like a true leader.
Upon arrival of the main cabin, he stopped and warned us of our behavior.
"I want you both to be respectful when talking to my superior. Melanie, this isn't your first time so I won't emphasize much on you: you should already know the deal. As for you," he said gesturing to me, "The captain is a very strict man. In terms of experience, he's perhaps the best there is when it comes to seafaring. That being said, don't run your mouth too much or insult him, the ship, or its crew in any way. We all take pride in our work, and he takes even greater pride."
"Alright, sounds fair enough. This isn't my first little-"
"And whatever you do," he said sternly, cutting me off, "do not, under any circumstances, mention the obvious." His cryptic message left me in question as he knocked on the door. Failing to get an answer, he slowly opened the door.
"Captain? We've picked up our guests… Captain?"
Light entered the dimly lit room the further the door creaked open. It looked like a small office with a couch, some cushioned chairs, and a desk near the back of the room. There was a cot to the right and a coat hanger at the foot of it. Looking on the desk, there was a man's face buried in a pillow and the sound of snoring echoed throughout the room.
"Really? The captain's sleeping?" I asked in a mental message to Melanie.
"Yeah, he sleeps a lot actually. Just wait till he wakes up," she replied as cheery as ever.
Dean walked towards the captain, careful to not step on the empty bottles that littered the floor.
"Um… what was in those bottles?" I asked Melanie. I myself already knew the answer, but since everything in this world was different, listening to Melanie's own take on it wouldn't hurt.
"Those bottles contained a drug that people use to feel dizzy. I honestly do not know why they choose to dull their own senses; it's harmful and stupid," she answered quietly with spite.
"So… it's alcohol?"
"If that's what you called it in your dream, then yes." I picked up on her strange emphasis on 'dream' and remembered how we lied to Dean about my true cause of arrival.
"Captain, wake up," said Dean, shaking the captain's shoulder. I wasn't prepared for what would come from his action.
The captain immediately sprang up from his spot on the desk, landing on the desk itself, giving me a view of his outfit. It was nothing to flashy, just a polo shirt, a pair of light-blue jeans, and boots. He began singing in a shanty-like fashion.
"FAIR IS THE MAIDEN WHO LIVES IN THE SEA! FAIR IS THE CAPTAIN WE FOLLOW HIS LEAD!" He looked down and finally recognized that Melanie and I were in his company, "AH! MELANIE! YOU'VE RETURNED FOR THE HARVEST AGAIN I SEE?!" His merry voice boomed throughout the cabin with glee at seeing the woman to my right.
"Yes, Abraham, it's good to see you again. How is your business going?"
"OH GLAD YOU ASKED! I'VE RECEIVED MASSIVE PROFIT FROM MY TRAVELS AND THE TREASURES I BRING WITH ME TO SELL AT OTHER PORTS! EVERYTHING IS RUNNING AS SMOOTHLY AS THE SEA ON A CALM KYOGRE'S DAY! AND WHO MIGHT YOU BE?!" I might have responded to him if not for one little thing bugging my mind.
This anomaly had paralyzed me in place. I could not move a single, muscle; even breathing was proving to be troublesome. If I even flinched, I think I would burst in an uncontrollable fit of laughter. On his forehead was a discoloration in his pigment, a birth mark. But this wasn't just an irregular shape, on his forehead was a silhouette of a rather long and limp dick and balls. The detail in this natural occurrence was so precise that I could tell that it was circumcised.
It took every ounce of will in my body to not laugh, snicker, or even snort. But with all of this discipline, I couldn't help but find myself staring at it, rather awkwardly too.
At least I did until a sharp pain ran through my mind, forcing me to clutch my head and repeatedly whisper out obscenities. When the headache subdued, I glared over at Melanie who smiled cutely at me as if she hadn't just done that.
"Uh… yeah, my name is Richard Blake- I mean Michael Dick- I mean Michael Blake. My name is Michael Blake," I began sweating as I found it nigh impossible to say anything without referencing that mark.
"MICHAEL BLAKE! IT'S ALWAYS A PLEASURE TO MEET AN AQUAINTANCE OF MELANIE! WHY HER AND I HAVE BEEN BUSINESS PARTNERS FOR YEARS!"
"Oh you flatter me, Abraham. But really I don't do much. I just advise on the right harvests to sell to the market. It's really nothing to brag about," Melanie said, trying to remain humble.
"NOTHING TO BRAG ABOUT?! MELANIE YOU JEST! YOU ALONE ARRE RESPONSIBLE FOR 40 PERCENT OF MY PROFITS ALONE! YET YOU REFUSE ANY SHARE IN THE INCOME! SHE'S THE PERFECT BUSINESS WOMAN IF YOU ASK ME WOULDN'T YOU THINK SO?!" He shouted looking at me.
"Uh yes that is quite a remarkable feat according to your testicle- I mean testimony." I looked over to Dean whose face was beyond furious at this point. He knew what I was doing, yet the captain hadn't exactly caught me yet… even if me doing so was on accident.
"INDEED IT IS! SO TELL ME, HOW DID YOU TWO MEET?!" I stood there, mouth agape, trying to find a sentence that would be appropriate.
"He was a survivor of a shipwreck. I found him stranded on the coast of the island, but he had lost most of his memory other than his name," Melanie said, saving me from myself.
"MY THAT IS A TRAVISTY I AM SORRY TO HEAR ABOUT!"
"Yeah it was quite the boner… no- I mean… I wish we met under better circumcision- circumstances than being a lost seaman- passenger from a sunken ship."
All eyes on the room were on me. Melanie's were unimpressed; Dean's were furious; and the Captain's were confused. I inhaled deeply and exhaled sharply before I kissed my ass goodbye.
"I'm sorry: there's a dick on your forehead," I stated coolly, calmly, and collectively. The captain gave a large sigh and scratched his head.
"It's alright boy, just let it out."
"…"
"…"
"…"
"…"
"… I don't think there's anything left to be let out," I told honestly and took a knee. "I apologize for pointing out your flaws; I can only imagine the hell you have gone through."
"Not everyone can have as artistic birthmarks as you can," Melanie scolded me, but her comment stole my attention.
"Fuck are you talking about birthmarks? I don't have any birthmarks…" I thought for a then remembered she probably didn't know what the art on my skin actually was. "Oh do you mean my tattoos?"
"If you're referring to the images and words marked over your torso, then yes."
"Marks? What marks?" The captain asked, breaking his own silence.
"She means these," I said while removing my shirt. I kinda forgot that I even had them; the shock of what occurred in the last few days made me too preoccupied to notice that they were there. I wasn't all tatted up like most guys with art on their skin were; the Army does have regulations to keep us in check. But I had a decent amount on my arms, back and chest.
The captain stepped down from his pedestal and closed the gap between us to inspect my 'markings.'
"Amazing!" He explained in a half whisper of wonder. "I've never seen marks so intricate and precise as these! How did you receive them? What do they mean? Are they a map? DO THEY LEAD TO TREASURE?!" He shouted as his jolly old soul returned to him.
"Calm down there Jethro-"
"THE NAME IS ABRAHAM SANDOVAL!" I jumped as he corrected me with honor despite the lack of mannerism.
"Right, Abraham, these tattoos are really nothing special… at least not to the general public. I wasn't born with or given these, I had them drawn on me because I liked what they mean. Also 'cause it was a sign of badassery back in the military," I commented with a prideful smirk.
"Have you gained back your memories?" Dean asked from across the room. But before I could even attempt to respond with any lie to throw him off, Abraham began poking my right shoulder, to my first one coincidentally. It was an orange-reddish bird with fiery wings and a long tail that left embers in its trail: a phoenix.
"Is… is that the legendary bird of fire?" he asked with awe in his blue eyes.
"Oh… yeah, the phoenix. That was actually my first one."
"Have you seen it? With your own eyes?" He asked with even more child-like hope in his voice.
"No, actually… I've never seen a phoenix in my life. As far as I can… remember, it's only been a myth."
"Is that so…" He inquired.
"Yeah. I just have the tattoo because I like the connotation of the phoenix. 'Die in the flames and rise from the ashes.'"
"That's quite poetic," Melanie commented while placing her hand softly on my shoulder. I knew she was looking into my mind. She saw the same thing I was thinking.
"I have to agree Miss Melanie," Abraham joined in. "Now, this may be sort of late, but why do you come on this voyage? You usually come with me every other time around? And you bring Meganium along with you, yet this time I haven't seen her."
"Personal matters concerning getting Michael back home safely; Meganium is staying home keeping an eye on the others," she replied with an honest answer. I forced myself to snap out of my thoughts.
"Speaking of which," I started, "how long will it take to reach the next port?"
"If all goes normal, it shouldn't be more than two days." I gave a nod in response before he spoke again. "If you're wondering how to pass the time, the crew on the ship anchors down tomorrow night in celebration for the Foresight's anniversary. You and Melanie are welcome to join us then. But until then just relax in the spare cabins as our guests."
"Really? Thank you, I'll be sure to join you all tomorrow night." I noticed Dean rolling his eyes as I said that and a nerve popped in my forehead. But I just kept quite as Abraham excused us to be escorted to our cabin by another crewmember.
Ryan, the crewman, successfully escorted us to small, yet roomy two-bed cabin, though it was a bunkbed. He informed us that chow would be in a few hours since they all already ate before docking at the island. With a bow, he excused himself from our company and left us alone in the room.
"I'm gonna take a nap. Can you wake me up when it's time to eat?" I asked as I climbed up onto the top bed.
"Of course Michael, you deserve some rest since you probably aren't used to the amount of walking we did."
My eye twitched.
"Are you patronizing me?" I asked in mock suspicion.
"No? Why?"
"Let's get something straight, I can go on for miles. That little stroll was nothing to me?"
"Was it now?" She provoked with an evil but cute smirk.
"Try 30 miles with 90 pounds on your back," I challenged.
"Hello… I'm a dragon," she told me as she sat on the bunk below me.
I growled, "Oh fuck it." I laid down on the bed with my hands behind my head and closed my eyes.
"Before you sleep…"
"…yes?"
"You never told me what that word meant…"
I sighed; I knew sometime it would come down to this. I still didn't have a decent answer or a careful way to explain it. But she still had a right to know if she was helping me; no matter how crude an explanation would be, it was already a bad subject to be discussing.
"First things first: it's not a good word. By that I mean that the word is… how should I say this right… blasphemous would be the more appropriate term I guess."
"So you've been saying blasphemous things this whole time?"
"No that's not what I meant… There really is no way to describe how or why it's bad… in my world, it just is. No one really knows why except that saying it is considered bad taste or a sign of immorality."
"Oh… What does it mean if it's so bad?"
"… It means a lot of things. Actually, it's kind of funny. It can mean anything you want it to if put in the right context. It could be used as emphasis on emotions or other words. It could mean to mess something up to the point of dysfunction. It could mean having sex… actually that could be the reason for why it's bad. It could mean to forget, or as a placeholder for other words. And my favorite: it could mean how much you care," I finished with a small chuckle.
"…So if it is a synonym for other words, why is it so bad?"
Good question, I'll ask Webster when I get back to my world.
"I guess it just is. It's just the culture of the world I grew up in. Children were discouraged from saying it, but as we grow older, we find ourselves saying it all the time; I guess as a sign of our maturity… It really isn't a good thing to say. I just say it because…"
I stopped. I wondered why I even say it now.
"I guess… Maybe because it just relieves stress," I concluded.
"Oh…"
"Can you do me a favor Melanie?" I asked looking up at the ceiling about a foot away from my face.
"That depends…"
"Don't say that word. Another thing I forgot to mention was that saying it kinda implies bad personality. I don't want to ruin what purity you have left."
"That's sweet of you Michael…" I smiled at the compliment, "But I'll smack you if I hear you ever say that again."
"…It'll be worth it," I concluded before I let myself sleep.
"Dad."
I awoke with a cold sweat, immediately regretting sitting up too fast so as to bump my head on the low ceiling.
'There's that damned voice again… Why the hell am I hearing it?"
"…dad…"
I closed my eyes and focused on my senses, trying to imagine the scenery around me with aura. My breathing calmed and my blood rate slowed down, but I still saw the dark void underneath my eyelids.
I grunted in agitation, cursing myself and this power for not working like it did when I received the injection. I wondered why the potency of my abilities went away almost as fast as it had come; why, even though it had returned, it was taking too long for me to gain full grasp on it.
Then I felt something tickling the tip of my nose. Opening my eyes quickly to catch the culprit, I was unexpectedly met with a glowing white smoky presence. It looked like a collection of smoke with a trail that led outside the cabin.
I was reminded of then last time I saw something like this: two days ago when I was looking at the golden light radiating from Melanie. I thought perhaps this was the same thing. It did feel familiar, but to put a name on it was far from my senses.
I went to wave my hand through it to test its physical aspects, but as soon as I had touched it, like Melanie, an influx of emotions and strange feelings ran through my body. I was feeling artificial happiness as well as the urge to just start a spasm of giddiness.
But something else as new, blue veins began coursing through the white mass and tracing the tail of it outside the cabin.
"Melanie?"
"…don't put it there," she moaned in a sleepy tone. My eyes widened in wonder of what kind of dream she was having.
"Melanie? You awake?"
"…just give it to me… I can't take it anymore…"
'Oh my god, I didn't know she had another side to her,' I thought with a snicker.
"Melanie you need to wake up."
"…right there… that's much better… I thought you were good at this thing…"
I sighed, just wondering how long it would take to wake her up. I didn't want to shake her and risk ripping my arm off.
"…I don't care… the painting looks better right here…"
I couldn't gauge how hard I face palmed hearing this, but my nose certainly wasn't feeling very good after.
"Fuck, what is it gonna take for you to… AH!"
"What did you just say?"
In the middle of my sentence, she had opened her eyes and practically teleported on top of me on all fours. I shivered as a chill ran down my spine; though I wasn't sure if it was her tone or the position we were in right now.
"I-I said 'what's it gonna take for you to wake up?"
"…That wasn't all. You said that word didn't you?" I completely forgot what she said before I took my nap, about how she would slap me. Actually I didn't think she was all that serious.
Yet here we are.
"I said 'shucks,'" my voice cracked as my faced sweat.
"We have a connection… you can't lie to me," she deadpanned.
"Didn't stop you when I lied about the word earlier…" I mumbled.
"Besides the point…"
Her voice was tuned out and replaced with another's; the child's voice to be more specific.
"When can we see dad? I know he's here… But why? We're going to have to see them sometime. Are we just supposed to hide for the entire trip?... Well hurry up and find a way, Kudah, I want to see Mom and Dad… He's not a jerk! He scratched my belly and behind my ear! Besides he's a boy so he'd be a perfect dad!... I think you're jealous… Am too!... Am too!..."
"OH SHUT UP ALREADY!" I yelled out at the two voices. But when I came back to reality, I was staring at a mouth-agape Melanie whose eyes were wide in… what's the best term… fury I believe?
"…"
"…"
"…"
"…"
"What did you just tell me to do?"
"Uh, not you trust me I wouldn't tell you to shut up I mean you have a lovely voice but I'm not saying anything with that I'm just saying that I keep hearing these voices and they kinda overtook yours just now so I wasn't really listening to you I was listening to the voice… I'm sorry when I said I wasn't listening to you I didn't mean it like you think I meant it it's really kinda complicated your voice was kind forced out of my head but not by my means by something else and the voices I've been hearing for the past two days became louder so it's not like I wanted to stop listening to you even thought I kinda did it but that not listening to you was out of my control…"
She looked at me with a face that said 'I didn't hear a single word' and I sighed.
"Come on, let's go see them now!"
"Did you hear that?!" I asked urgently.
"Hear what? Don't try to change the subject!"
"That child's voice! I've been hearing it for the past two days and it won't stop! It just keeps saying 'dad' over and over again! And just now it started speaking full sentences after I…"
"After you what?"
"After I touched an… aura. A white aura…"
Things became silent as she pondered over my words, then a look of annoyance and almost anger overtook her face.
"Did you hear it once say 'Kudah?'"
"…Yeah… it sounds familiar?" She grunted and hopped off the bunk without making a single noise upon landing on the ground.
"Follow me…" The last thing I noticed before she turned around and headed out the door was the familiar glowing of her irises.
I followed her out and to the right towards the steep stairs that led to the main deck. The way she walked was similar to that of a woman that had just found out her man had been unfaithful, which sent a feeling of unease through my veins.
But I did wonder how she knew what I was talking about, and what exactly it was I was talking about. The fact that she knew threw the possibility of something wrong with my mind out of the porthole.
"YUM! I didn't know they had this much delicious food… you be quiet!" Said the little voice again.
"Melanie, are we headed towards the kitchen?" I asked based on the voice's sentence. Without so much as slowing her momentum, she turned around and walked even faster in the opposite direction.
"Now we are," she growled almost demonically.
We passed by several workers who, upon simply glancing at Melanie, immediately moved to the side or crouched begging for mercy.
"I'm sorry. Just carry on. Please ignore us," I told each of them that were left in the wake of Melanie's aggravation.
When I turned around to continue following her, I ended up bumping into her causing us both to stumble.
"Jesus, why the f… hell did you stop?" I asked her just barely catching myself before I personally felt her wrath. Looking beyond her, I noticed a box leaning against the side of a cabin wall. Just over the top of the box, on the other side, were two sets of furry ears. A pair of stubby, blue ears, and a pair of long, brown ears.
"Why are we hiding now Kudah?" I barely heard, almost like a whisper this time… coming from that specific direction. "They are?!... But mommy won't be mad at me… Nuh-uh… Nuh-uh!... You're just jealous because mommy loves me more than you!"
"AHEM!" Melanie said aloud, causing the two sets of ears to perk up: the blue ones shaking and the brown ones twitching. Then…
"Mommy!" Said the voice, and an eevee, Chance to be specific, jumped from behind the box and ran over to Melanie, who suspended him in mid-air when he closed in half the distance. The other set of ears, Riolu, bounced up and began taking off away from us. Courtesy of an aura sphere from yours truly, he face-planted into the ground, and was picked up via telekinesis by Melanie, who floated him back to us.
Turning them to face us, Melanie spoke in a tone laced with darkness, "Explain yourselves!"
"I wanted to see mommy and daddy!" the little fox replied right away.
Turning to look at Riolu, "And you?" Melanie asked with the same tone.
"Rauraurau," he mumbled.
"I can't hear you!"
"RAURAUrau!" he barked more clearly.
"What did he say?" I asked. But I was ignored… partially.
"You want to see Rayquaza too?! Are you out of your mind?!" She scolded, nearly yelling.
Silence ensued, allowing guilt to spread across both of their faces, Riolu more than Chance. With a heavy sigh, Melanie carefully set the two of them down and walked over to them.
"I'm sorry mom."
"Raurau," both said simultaneously. Melanie then pulled them both into a gentle hug.
"What is wrong with you two? What we're doing is dangerous – suicide for as young you are… I just want you both to be safe," she explained to them kindly.
"Wait if it's suicide then why the hell are you letting me go?!" I asked with a little exaggeration. But I was ignored… again.
"But you, daddy, and Kudah can protect me! And I can get stronger!"
"RAU!" the mutt barked at Chance.
"But that's your name!"
"Silence!" Melanie hissed, causing Riolu to look away as if he as hiding a tear. "Both of you! Chance, Riolu doesn't like being called that, so please don't. And Riolu," she said, getting his saddened attention, "Please go easy on him. He's young; he should be like a brother to you. I know you both wanted to come, but I can't risk losing you both at such a young age."
"Maybe the fucking mutt…" I mumbled silently.
"What did you just say in front of them?!" Melanie asked, turning around to look into both of my eyes like she was staring down my soul.
"Oh so now I have your attention. And adding on to that: can someone here, and not you, vermin," I said pointing to the mutt, "Explain to me why I can understand what Chance is saying?" I said, whispering that last part so no one but us four could hear. I was met with two equally confuse faces and one happy face that just didn't give a single shit in the world- to which I smiled at.
But that happy expression turned to questioning and then to slight fear as Melanie began walking toward me and extended her arm towards my face.
"Uh, look if this was about what I said, understand it might take a while for me to get used to it!" I exclaimed worriedly. I winced when she thrust her hand towards my face, but I felt no pain. In fact, I didn't really feel anything anymore. It was like my entire brain wasn't focusing on anything but Chance. I couldn't breathe, feel, hell I could barely see. But thankfully, that moment was short-lived.
I fell to my knees, gasping for air when Melanie retracted her hand away from my face.
"What… did you just… do to me?" I panted heavily, feeling like I had just been water-boarded. But to my dismay, a familiar feeling rose up inside of me, like a small ember being given fuel to ignite into a massive pyro.
'Whatever she did must have activated my PTSD. But I can't do this here. Not now.'
With as much conscious energy as I could muster, I stumbled over to the wall towards the interior of the ship and leaned on it with both hands, breathing heavily in effort to calm myself down. When an unstoppable urge found its way to my hands, I had no choice but to let it go in an aura-infused punch to the wall, creating a loud cracking noise and a crater from where my fist landed.
That seemed to do the trick, since any hostile feelings I just had vanished. But with this, came the attention of several crewmen as well as Dean, who just looked like he had woken from a nap. I looked around to see all the faces of shock, the faces of amazement spread throughout the growing crowd. Looking to the three creatures that had come with me, Melanie stood in front of the two smaller mammalians, arms spread in efforts to protect them. Riolu, on her right (my left), had an aura sphere charged between his hands, ready to go at any given instant. Chance, on the opposite side, looked at me with both his furry ears down in somber pity.
My face and knees fell in silent defeat as I grasped just how badly I've fucked things up. I let this madness, this disease, this curse, take over me and influence my behavior. I lost the battle I've started long ago.
"Daddy?" I looked up swiftly, still unaccustomed to hearing Chance actually speak. He was right in front of my face, eyes as glimmering as the sea. I couldn't physically tell if he was going to cry or if he was just scared or what else. But I did feel something inside of me growing. Like this foreign presence that made me feel… I don't know: forgiving.
He leaned forward and gave my nose a gentle lick. "Please don't be scared, Daddy. It's not your fault."
"…H-How would you know that?" I asked, still shaken from my actions.
"I don't know; I could just feel it. You look like your scared. I don't want you to be scared. I want you and Mommy to be happy and strong like you always are!" He spoke through my mind as he went and nuzzled against my stomach.
I could hear a few teasing 'awws' in the crowd and responded by giving them a stare that said do you really want that to be your last word?'
Dean gave a muffled 'hmph' and left back to his quarters, just as all the other workers returned to their daily duties. Us four on the other hand stayed. Chance and I continuing our familial embrace while Melanie watched with a content, almost tearful smile on her face. The mutt just copied Dean's actions and turned away, refusing to look at us. I smiled halfheartedly; while things were indeed looking pretty good right now, I knew that this PTSD thing would become a major problem in the future if I didn't learn to control it healthily. More so if I was to continue improving my aura abilities.
So a day passed and not much has really happened aside from the fact of seeing several flying species of pokemon that were both foreign and familiar. I recognized the swellow, pidgeot, and the pelipper species in the air during the day. Unfamiliar species during this time were an eagle species known as breviary, and another typical bird known as startaptor. In the sea during the same time, I saw mantines, and their younger forms to my surprise, as well as seadras, tentacruel, and wailords. During the night, I was captivated by the illumination patterns of lantern and another new species known as lumineon taking total control of the sea. Such a sight was like a visual drug… to those that are more appealed to the natural beauty of the world.
So the hours came and went and I found myself the main deck of the ship, enjoying myself with the crew, the Captain, Dean (surprisingly), and Melanie as we celebrated the anniversary of the Foresight, anchored down about half a days away from Mossdeep. Chance and Riolu were off in our room sleeping; Melanie's idea to keep them from becoming trouble to the crewmen or the other way around.
Oh it was truly a fun time I had. Granted, with some old friends, and a stripper or two, it could've been a night to remember. But the amount of liquor that Abraham supplied us all mixed with the cuisines, games, fuckery, and stories, it was perhaps the best time I've had in a while.
I played a drinking game with Abraham which ended in an anticlimactic draw. The thing that surprised me and filled me with joy to no end was a special liquid, a remedy, that Melanie could brew using her berries that could eliminate the side-effects of drinking too much alcohol. Pretty much: all the fun, none of the hangover and mental influence. So needless to say that we recovered pretty quick and carried on with the night's activities.
There were musicians on board that played guitar, bongos, a fiddle, and an accordion in a strange, yet pleasant harmony of sounds and noises. If I had money, I'd give them all of it for how well they played together.
Melanie and I were sitting next to each other, joined with several other crewmen, Abraham, and Dean around a metal safe metal fire pit where we all shared stories. Abraham told me of his ventures across the seas, seeing new lands and bringing commerce and trade internationally across the conglomerate of islands, or as I came to know them – regions – this landmass had to offer. He told of how Melanie had helped him with his business to the point of commercial success.
When it was my turn to share stories, I almost slipped and began telling stories back from my world that were sure to make everyone laugh. But remembering that we told everyone I had actually lost my memory, I had to face the sad truth and admit my bullshit lie."
"I'm sorry everyone, but I really don't have a story tell. I've lost my memory when I shipwrecked so it's a no go me." The men around the fire gave friendly no's and sad sentiments.
"Do you remember any songs?" A lightbulb had suddenly hit me on the head. I couldn't tell a story, but you can't just forget a favorite song.
I pointed to the gentleman with the guitar, "Can I borrow that?" He simply smiled and handed me the stringed instrument while everyone else gave cheers at my decision. I strummed a few chords and individual strings to check the tuning for the song I wanted to play. I did play guitar in my youthful years; rather pretty well if you could ask others that knew me back then.
'Perfect; it's completely ready for the song.'
"When I start the song, can you guys play along in tune?" I asked the other musicians, to which I received raised mugs in reply. I looked at Abraham. I looked at Dean. I looked at the men aboard the vessel.
I looked at Melanie and leaned to whisper in her ear, "Does everyone know what a train is?" She giggled and nodded her head: my signal to begin.
(Folsom Prison Blues by Johnny Cash)
I began by strumming a fast-paced, catchy, folk tune, using my tapping foot to keep the rhythm and my bouncing head to get into the beat. What could I say? I like all music, but I'm a country kind of guy:
"I hear the train a comin'
It's rolling 'round the bend
And I ain't seen the sunshine since I don't know when
I'm stuck in Folsom, and time keeps draggin' on
But that train keeps a rollin' on down to San Antone
The musicians were playing as perfectly as they could. They were completely in sync with how I wanted the song to sound. I could see others tapping their feet as well or bobbing their heads in beat with the music. And me? I just kept playing; like I had actually lived that song.
When I was just a baby, my mama told me, "Son
Always be a good boy, don't ever play with guns"
But I shot a man in Reno just to watch him die
When I hear that whistle blowing, I hang my head and cry
As I looked around some more, the faces were starting to change. Faces that were once filled with merry glee from the party, now took on a more mournful aspect as they listened to the words of the song. I just kept playing. I did the small guitar solo myself, allowing myself to melt my very existence into playing this song while the other musicians played around me.
I bet there's rich folks eating from a fancy car
They're probably drinkin' coffee, and smokin' big cigars
Well I know I had it coming, I know I can't be free
But those people keep a-movin'
And that's what tortures me
By now, I couldn't hear anything else but the song. My voice, the instruments: they were the only things I could hear. Everything else was unimportant. Even the men's solemn faces I ignored in favor of staring into the soul of the crackling fire in front of me.
Well if they freed me from this prison
If that railroad train was mine
I bet I's move it on a little farther down the line
Far from Folsom Prison, that's where I want to stay
And I'd let that lonesome whistle blow my blues away…
But let's face it: I'm not free from this train…
Not yet.
a/n
And that's the fourth chapter. A lot kind of happened in this chapter so I'm glad I fit in as much as I can. Any questions you guys have on this chapter? Did you guys like my explanations of the world Michael's in compared to the 'actual' Pokemon world logic? Any suggestions for what Pokemon Michael will meet on this journey?
Don't forget to follow and review your thoughts on the story. So until next time!
Chapter 5: Sootopolis
[Post- 23 May 2016 a/n]
What do you guys think of the altered evolution mechanics?
