Chapter 10: Babies
We erupt into what feels like bright, molten, spontaneous puke on the grass of Paradise after a red-hot shaking and bashing and screaming and squirming and crawling through a steaming mess of being flung through dark corridors where one can't even see the hand just in front of them, or the navy blue ear their best friend declares one sat on multiple times through quite the rude awakening. I twitch in place for a moment, as livid puke goes, and feel quite unsure and disturbed about what could possibly be going on once more.
Soft crunches signal the fall on cushioned grass: our final departure to our team's grounds. Spluttering the green flecks, Zoey mumbles, "Whuzzat for? Victin—F?"
Her name called, F darts up past us with a flurry of heat pelting past my face. Velvety ears sticking like red arrows in the air, her cloudy blue eyes widen: "Oh gawsh everyone's already gone. Gawwsh... gawshgawshgawshgawsh... bad bad bad badbadbad. Okay now we move. Like, moooooooove."
"What?" squeaks Jen.
The flicker of a green spine just over my line of amber vision reveals that, in fact, a winded chespin has found himself into our ensemble of broken pokemon. I notice, with a pinch in my gut, that no midnight, smoky pelt has fallen amongst us: Tim is devoid of our home. I'm safe; Zoey's safe; we'll live until I can catch Burr or Mina and request for both to listen to my pleas.
"Like, move, stupids!"
"Whyyyyyyyy?" groan Zoey and Jen in tandem. A squeak that could have meant to be a chortle arises from the beige-and-mint coat beside me, but Roland stifles it himself. How... cute of his reaction. Hearing this, even the slightest, the cyan hide beside me with her feet wriggling in the air bursts in fits and giggles—the naïve oshawott at my head groans louder; she dislikes what she sniffs out as a scene of... love? Romance?
My dear best friend quite dislikes most displays—but she laughed and enjoyed when I eventually caved and found myself... loving Elijah. Perchance because she was the first one to attempt and induce me into any sort of feelings in the first place? Without the saltwater girl, I may never have realized how I felt...
And Tim may have never seen such or killed him—though a hole in my heart winces in belief that he knew, he knew, he knew.
"Gawsh, get up!"
"Whyyyy!" Zoey squeals. Her voice propels her on: louder, louder, louder. Long, navy blue ears flop pathetically by my own slits.
The cloudy blue orbs narrow. "It's important!"
"What is?"
"You coming!"
"Whyyyyyyy?"
A stifled retort; anger sizzles in F's throat. "BECAUSE ESPA AND UMBRE ARE HAVING LIKE A BABY AND THE EXPEDITIONS ARE ALMOST READY!" She clears her smoking throat, coughs up a stray spark. "Gawsh." The victini fluffs a patch of cream fur on her cheek and beckons with the spicy, red fingernails.
With a sudden, new rush of obedience, my limpid friends pull themselves into a suitable moving fashion and stumble past the victini. Giggling, her long ears shivering with fleeting dewdrops, Zoey's fingers pluck and pull me from the imprinted grasses behind—cold,wet fingers tear into my own coldblooded ones and we shiver in harmony. I toss my pointed head back to where our bodies landed and wince at nature's hit: painfully obvious where we fell and got back up. "Oh, come on, Llana! It's not that..." Turning her circular white face back, Zoey's expression lights up and she exchanges a glance with me. "And now we stop looking backwards." She propels us on.
Down a leaf-touched lane, straight past our hillock of a wooden home, further into rows of long, grassy fronds that lead to a water-touched bank and to a small island surrounded by foot-deep sky blue waves, there the felines lie. Quietly. In wait. Their eyes light with identical bemusement at the throng of a crowd F has gathered. Already sitting at the watery tips of the bank are the yellow-scaled and winged Bay, quickly joined by Jen and an awkwardly-slinking chespin; the elegantly-poised Vivi—effulgent at best and divine only; a giggling mass of brown furs attached to another mass of yellow-and-pink coloring: Burr and Mina; and even the blue hide of Quagsire has joined: albeit without the swanna usually flitted by him.
"Quagsire! Virizion—no, Vivi! And Burr and even ew he's kissing Mina! And Baayyyy! AAAhhhahhh... I missed y'aallll!" Zoey wipes a wet hand over my yellow shoulder with what may be snot. My heart heavily tips—an ache for her. If I was trapped in her saltwater fur and stuffed into the nameless black-forested Mystery Dungeon with only Tim stabbing me with each breath to keep me going...
and none of these beautiful souls alongside me—save a missing braided bagon...
I squeak, stumble back. Without Zoey, it would be as well; and although Tim would rather sink what I believe to be lips rather than teeth into my neck, the situation rushes chills through my veins and a jolt in my heart reveals that I do know. I do understand.
"Llana?" Worry from the river-blue eyes pours into me.
With a light shake, I mumble, "Are you okay?"
"Yes, Llana." The brightness returns to her irises, like a secret ring to the galaxy in her little orbs. "I'm okay. I've told you this. I'm okay. I know that for you, you really take things to heart and react really strongly but... I'm fine." A sure nod. "I'm fine. I promise I'm fine. You're here and we're both okay, and they're here to and he... he isn't. And that's all I could care for." Her white paws wrap themselves around my tiny spine and she plows her snowball head into my grass frond one. "Promise."
"Promise," I echo softly. My regal tone only strengthens the voice within.
A giggle. "Yeah, now we're all girly and sharing secrets."
"I love you, Zoey."
"Love ya, Llana! Just don't kiss me cuz I don't like romance and I don't like no one like that!" At her words, my mind pangs back to when she'd told me about her best friend before he died and she met me: that aipom, the purple furred anthropoid not unlike Ember and Cheeka, Acorn. From her description of the hand-tailed biped, my heart thuds as is he'd once felt such emotions for her—prior to his death—emotions that he never received the chance to explain.
Then Acorn was killed by a pokemon—oh, how heartless most creatures used to be here—and Zoey was alone without her best friend.
The words never found themselves uttered: they were dead, too. Everything was dead betwixt them, or whatever Acorn held out for the blunt oshawott. My heart aches for the poor boy—aches in thought of my own dear Elijah, may the duo rest in peace together: of an understanding, of peace to my own, as well.
"Oh..! Gee..! I didn't expect so many of our friends to just collide like that right there!" squeaks Espa. Her knowledgeable tone drops an octave, shy of a retort other than anything. But with the pinch in voice, the espeon only sounds afraid, surprised. Which is what I assume she'd be—did Elijah live longer... did he and I have... have a...
Nonetheless, I deliberate through a red-faced splutter, that the awkward, precarious position my dear friend perches in is one I'd rather not replace her with.
"Umbre, did you tell them each to show up on their own will?"
He chortles softly beside her, his wide scarlet orbs filled to the brim by mirth. "Maybe. Maybe a little," goes his swaying, almost as if dancing murmur.
"And the legend? To call everyone here? To force us to be bombarded this way?"
"Geez, Luna, I thought these were your friends!" His eyes twinkle at using her old name.
The lilac fur in Espa's cheeks only twitch, then stain themselves red like wetting with berry juices. "Sh-shut up, Kinks!"
He giggles a childish tune. "Luuu-naaa! Luuu-naaaa! How-I love-you soooooooo!"
"Kinks, stop it already! You're going to dye me red!"
"I love you, though~ It's my job."
"Kinks!"
"Luuu-naaaa~!"
"K-kinks!" But by then the midnight furred mate smooths himself as well as the mate in question's fur, a teasing smirk tied along his only gently-shining dark pelt. Planting a kiss on the lilac furred espeon's forehead, Umbre mutters a new tune under his breath and heavily plops himself down on the island surrounded by foot-deep waters. "It's very important today, isn't it dear? May as well tell all of our buddies?"
She doesn't even bother tossing his old name out. Hearing the words jump back and forth, I soon find humor in the fact that Espa was expected as an umbreon—thus the midnight name of Luna—and Umbre himself seemed to only be cut off as unusual, flawed, and a simple misfit: thus dubbed Kinks. And now in spite of their pasts, the nicknames of their own species names have suited their well-beings now. Honestly, I feel the duo could call one another whatever words they wanted, and their friends—us—would follow; just by the bountiful love stringing each name whole.
"Um, hello, friends and chaps and the like—!" splutters the espeon. The ruby on her forehead splutters as well like another eye, this one sensing the tensity of so many eyes following one little Espa in comparison. "Umbre wanted... yes... you all to be known that we just realized I am most definitely holding the makings of a... of... um..."
Even with her endless sources of observation and knowledge, Espa cannot bother mumble where she has come in life. "Her belly is going to swollen up and produce a child," helps the reason said child will produce at all, the tune under his lip returning.
A squawk. "Umbre!"
"Well yeah, it's true. Don't worry—you're not ugly, you're adorable."
"A-ah!" She shakes herself. "N-never... never mind that. Or him. Or either of us, for that matter. So yes... Iamhavingababy... and it will surely take a time prior to its coming but... it is. It very well quite is. So um yes I actually do love Umbre as downright annoying as he is..."
"Love ya, babe!"
"And um either way... our new Paradise planted on the remains of the Glacial Palace—hopes for connecting with even more creatures through our Hope and, well, Llana, basically—shall be starting up soon, I should think. Our secure sort of portal should be finished soon." With a cute smile to end the deal, Espa angrily flops on the grassy island beside her mate and butts her head at him with a slight grunt.
Further off, though still quite beside Zoey and myself, Vivi giggles as well. Her gently violet orbs seem to stroke the duo as she watches them, smiling and tittering to herself. "They're so sweet on each other, no?" she murmurs. "It's... nice, to see that we still have these basic needs of life: of love and children and others of the sort. I trust these basic needs one day waken Kyo from his stupor." Her smile, though situated with a burst of pride, appears so lonely, so sad, sitting there on her cream-colored cheeks.
Even as of now, the virizion in front of me is the only creature I've ever seen call Kyo by name at any given time or place and never see herself struck down from it. I do recall—from back to when Vivi first introduced the capricorn—that she warned us to not call the keldeo aloud by name unless in direct address for him because it seems to unnerve his already unnerved stature.
She deserves so much from that small, cream-colored legend, and yet receives nothing but still silence. She deserves his love and joy to blossom and spill all over her, and yet nothing happens. Virizion deserves to find such joys in her life and yet staples herself with an immortal that could so easily lose his mind and die at any given moment.
She deserves so much better. And yet here she is. How odd is fate, twisting and cutting such grueling marks on the kindest cheeks?
Like Vivi?
Like Vivi—oh yes, like the poor dear legend, her elegantly-poised stature only cloaking so much hidden fears and sorrows; her curves horns shadowing over a tear-stained expression with deep, dark, sad, purple eyes; and she deserves such a kind, sweet, considerate, strong, passionate—practically perfect counterpart to love her.
If there is anything at all Kyo could do; he has to waken himself to life again: for Vivi. For the female losing and feeling and drowning in pain for him. And never letting go; never giving up.
With a respectful nod, deep and uplifting and powerful between the grassy-grown virizion and myself, leaving Zoey to totter behind and chatter with her reunited friends—what appears to be Bay first and foremost and my heart gives a twinge in thought of the lithe dunsparce—I pad on. My route takes me over the shallow waves and unto the island where a seething lilac-colored feline and her smirking mate lie.
"Espa." Her smothering, overprotective nature springs as her forked tail wraps about my own and draws me in, and those deep light violet orbs wash me over—a mothering personality: perfect for a mother-to-be. Perfect for whom Espa shall be, given time and patience.
A pliable grin, but a grin nonetheless. "Llana, dear, indeed. How nice it is to see you! You have been missing for a patch of time when you dispersed off in search of Zoey—as did Tim too. It appears... he's not here."
The entire clearing has seemed to breath in new, strengthening breaths of air at the sight that the smoky timburr hasn't arrived as of yet—wherever he is now, now doesn't wrap about here like it does for our dear little crusade of characters tied close to my heart.
Though whether or not Tim himself counts is a mystery.
"That's—that's so wonderful! You and Umbre, bound together by love, creating a child in such name..." I admit, my eyes grow slightly moist and my heart grows in warmth—humidity, perchance.
Someone nearby offers a flash of white teeth over black canvas. "Why, thank you, Llana. I know I'm not the most fatherly type—and just look at my dearie here—but it does make me very happy, very proud, to know this fine lady is going to make us some parents. Quite proud, may I tack on there. Also it'll distract her from—you know—smothering you, eh?" He cocks his angular head to the side with a chortle much unlike the cool, stoic, stereotypical umbreon. "Yes indeed; indubitably."
"Yes; indubitably," mumbles his lilac mate, almost out of breath as if imagining the child churning in place and taking up space and love and life inside of her belly somewhere.
He blinks his scarlet eyes in response. "A little tired from it, it seems." He titters cheerfully. "I love you, Espa!"
Espa mutters something incoherent that shoots stars into Umbre's already-speckled gaze.
"It appears I... best be off. Leave you alone as long as you can handle it."
Upon my humble bow and movement away, the reboot of chatter continues sets the mates. I catch words like juicy morsels of berry just on the top of my tongue: "I didn't agree with this" and "how adorable!" and "good idea, good idea" and "parents! Oh, geez!" The final rather plugs a laugh from my maw. And I trust my dear friends; age isn't a deciding matter in whom you wish to spend the rest of your domestic life with. I want Espa and Umbre—dear friends as they are—to be with me—with us—as long as I can stand it and longer, even, much longer.
Finally, I come upon the other bank of the waters and shake off small, unimportant dewdrops from my pale feet. My eyes lock with the cool gray stone orbs of Burr's, fastened below with an aloof grin; and the harsh magenta of his girlfriend Mina's as well. Sometimes—quite idly—I imagine whether the duo will plan themselves to be official mates soon or if they don't know or how to explain such feelings lodged in their throats.
Knowing the fiery mienfoo and comedic timburr, did one another not compete and know it, they would have already broken apart. From what I assume feels reasonable purely.
"Er... Burr?" I think of tapping the brown one's shoulder, but his eyes train on me. That beam flickers out like the sun before overlapping rows of clouds. "I wanted to ask about... Zoey..."
"Oh, geez, she's been good, right?" comes the great, blunt response with a smack-to-the-face of meaning. His energy bounds off in waves.
"Yes yes. I just... it's... it's Tim. I know you contain an odd bond with him and seem in shape with a pleasing array of prowess to... entertain him."
A snort nearly cracks into my attempt of a calm composure: Tim does unnerve me. "Yeah, yeah—he's not real crazy. We're worried about him, but he'll be fine, and he'll worry about us, but almost all of us here are fine. Kinda some crazy I-guess-Tim's-okay loop or whatever, but he's not all that bad. I'm sure he'll show too."
"No, Burr." My blood boils; Zoey could be flashing in place now, on the line, about to drop, even as far as Tim truly is. "I... it's about Zoey as well. I don't want him near her—she doesn't realize what could be brewing above her head... dangerous conglomerates."
"Ah. Doesn't like her. You're worried." Burr absently nods, shares a powerful glance with his lingering girlfriend. "If ya want, we could sort of stick together—then go through Mystery Dungeons as a crazy pack? Tim can be kinda scary, but these sorta things could help convince you there's not much to worry about here. It's the good life—it's our life. Our lives. You know." Flourishing a smile like he would a rose, Burr's great fluffy, brown hand fumps softly on top of my head and he pets me softly. "You think too much, dear friend." A soft chortle, like sunshine dappling over a river in early dawn. "We'll help you. Right, Mina?"
With a jab in her yellow ribs via his free hand, Mina's eyes light up. "Burr, I hear and see everything you're doing or just did, you know!" The slightly-riled mienfoo later smooths into a smile, though. "Course we can help. Burr and I are currently trying to get me more into fighting shape again after the bad scar on my spine took place—and I ran—and I lost my wonderful boyfriend and everyone else—and as follows. So... I'll see you around more, it seems." She flashes a bejeweled grin; this emotion pulsating inside of me feels as if her shining, white teeth really are pearls studded into her gem-like personality.
"Cool with ya, Burr?"
"I heard everything too, stupid!" He uses a harsh word, but the tone is soft and gently ensconces his listeners.
Mina scoffs—a mocking sort of call that would put a real angry retort to shame. "Uff! I didn't think you were that smart as it was! What do you want: a medal?"
The lovers continue play-fighting for a moment longer before one ends up rounding their fingers around the other's and my heart painfully jumps in my chest, a reminder to leave before any... anything ensues. With my escape comes the running over playful splash, splashing waters and a catharsis of warm, cleansing emotions on the inside. I run into the oshawott bounding toward me and with her arms stringing into mine, we finish our shared stroll for Bay once more.
Sighting our turn, the dunsparce's yellow scaled face lights up.
Yes. Bay is a good man.
Bay: Bay is a very good man.
Tim: Bay isn't quite as good as he thought.
Bay: Rude.
Me: Anyways. I dunno, I like Bay. His name, his cute self... it always makes me feel guilty when we see him and it's like right I killed his best friend Elijah awhile ago.
Moving on... Burr and Mina! They in themselves have always been a plan I wanted to use. I like how I'm lying it here... Linking it in with another idea I've wanted to use of Espa and Umbre's baaabyyyyy. Now if it isn't obvious enough, I guess I could call them Luna and Kinks but I dunno. I kind of like Espa and Umbre. It's simple and cute and they purposely escaped those old names, so... uvu