what a mess

content warnings: sexual situations, racist microaggressions; the usual

i will proofread later, though I'm pretty sure most things are spelled and written correctly.


"Where'd you get that?" Francesca hissed as she made a grab at the picture.

"I found it in a library book I checked out," Amalia answered.

Francesca narrowed her eyes. "Well it's mine. Give it back."

"What?"

"I said it's mine. It belongs to me. I lost it."

Amalia dumbly handed it over. "Wait, then who are the people in the picture?"

Francesca looked at her like she was stupid. "They're my relatives."

Amalia took a while to process that.

"Why would I have a photograph of people I don't fucking know?" Francesca reiterated.

But they didn't look anything alike! "Wait, wait. They're not… but you're, um…" Amalia made vague gestures with her hands as she attempted to finish her sentence.

"But I'm black? Amalia, you know black people and white people can be related to each other, right? I thought you were smarter than that."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Amalia backpedaled, "but Ulisse is your father, right? So the girls in the picture would be his sisters…"

"Really?" she snapped, sarcasm lacing her voice. "They're half-siblings. My grandmother got around."

"Oh," said Amalia dumbly.

"Is that it? Can I continue with my day now?"

Amalia was still speechless. "Uh, yeah. Sure," she said, forgetting what else she'd wanted to ask the other girl.

Francesca turned swiftly, her braids nearly hitting Amalia in the face.

After that, Francesca seemed to avoid Amalia, and honestly she couldn't really blame her. She didn't realize the picture was Francesca's, was of her fucking family. She'd probably been looking for it for a while now, and the whole time Amalia had had it in her stupid backpack shoved between the stupid pages in her stupid overdue library book that she had never fucking read. And now Amalia had gone and alienated the only real source of information she had, not to mention someone she considered a friend. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

Her brain kept the conversation on repeat, much to her own annoyance and second-hand (first-hand?) embarrassment. She couldn't believe (well, actually, she could) she'd said something so, uh, culturally insensitive? Was that even the right word for it? Well, regardless of what it should be called, it was still rude, and Amalia couldn't even look at Francesca without feeling sick at herself. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

Well, it did confirm one thing: the people in the photograph were definitely involved with Team Plasma. Ulisse Alessandri was Francesca's father, and the half-brother of the three girls in the photo. He'd left Team Plasma, started a family, and was eventually killed by the group he thought he'd left behind. It was all pretty tragic.

Like, at least her own father hadn't been murdered by a cult. Still didn't really answer any of Amalia's other questions, though. Like what had happened to the sisters? And why, if Team Plasma was such a secretive organization, did they allow Ulisse Alessandri to keep in contact with some of its members?

Was he killed for knowing too much?

That was a scary thought. After all, it wouldn't be too hard for Team Plasma to keep tabs on all its members what with how easily the Shadow Triad or whatever had been able to gather information about Amalia and her friends. With a group like that, it would be easy to track down and eliminate anyone who became a threat to the organization…

Oh god…

Did… did Amalia know too much? Would she be eliminated, like they did to Ulisse?

Francesca had known what she was getting into when she decided to investigate them. She knew the risks of getting too close, of knowing too much. If they went after her, she'd know what to expect.

Amalia didn't have any of Francesca's background. She hadn't known anything when she'd gotten tangled up in this Team Plasma business. She hadn't even wanted to get involved, but she'd been dragged into it by N's weird fixation on her! She might as well just paint a target on her back and go stand in a shooting range. After all, it was only a matter of time before they decided she was a threat or something!

But N… N wouldn't let that happen, would he? No. He wouldn't do that to her, he wouldn't allow anyone in his organization to do that. Even though she hated to admit it, Amalia trusted N. If they were stuck in a life-or-death situation together, she would probably trust him with her life. It was just the kind of person he was. He was honest and trusting and innocent and idealistic and trapped between believing in the inherent goodness in all things and believing that all humans were inherently cruel. Too bad he was such a dick about it.

His words from the last time they spoke still upset her. It didn't matter if he didn't mean it to sound the way it did. It was both dismissive and insensitive. As if Amalia had no other reasons to be angry! (and as if N himself wasn't currently a very large one of those reasons!) As if her father's death was the only reason she'd ever act unpleasantly. The wound was still raw, and Amalia wasn't sure she'd ever finish mourning.

She closed her eyes.

Not even a week after she'd run away crying when asked about her father, she'd gone and asked Francesca the same kind of question. She was such a hypocrite! Did she ever stop to think about how it affected Francesca?

Amalia was such a shitty friend.

She poured herself a cup of coffee in the lobby of the Pokémon Center, hoping it would help stave off the inevitable exhaustion that came from being awake all night.

She set it on the arm of the sofa and when it wobbled on the unsteady surface, she swore she could feel her soul leaving her body. She caught the drink before it fell, but now her heart was racing a mile a minute and she was awake enough that she didn't even need the coffee anymore.

Deciding that she'd had enough excitement for the day (it was 10:30am), she returned to her room, determined to spend the rest of her day there. It was a Friday, so it wasn't like Skyla's gym was open anyway.

She recalled saying goodbye to her father, hugging him before he left for Castelia. It felt like so long ago, but it was only in March. Eight months wasn't a very long time. She'd lived for a little over eighteen years before that, so eight months really wasn't a long time. But already, the things Before were starting to get fuzzy… what if one day, she woke up and she couldn't remember his face….?

She must've dozed off.

She woke up to the yawning of her empty stomach and the sound of someone knocking on the door. Begrudgingly, she got up and made her way towards it, not bothering to look through the peephole to check who it was.

N was waiting outside, pretending he wasn't a colossal nuisance. "Amalia, I came to – No, wait!"

She promptly shut the door. She didn't have time for this. Maybe she'd order chinese food…

She reopened the door. "Why are you here?"

N looked nervous. "You've been avoiding me," he said, "and I know it's cos of what I said… about your dad…"

"Among other factors," Amalia added.

"And I didn't mean it to sound the way it did… well actually it sounded exactly as it did in my head but I didn't really consider how it would sound to other people, and I know now that I shouldn't have asked that question the way I did but –"

"N," she said, hoping that maybe he'd stop talking about it.

"–And I didn't mean to word it in a way that would upset you though I'm still kind of confused. I know what I said was bad but at the same time I don't understand how and –"

God, he looked so confused and upset, and that disgusting feeling of fondness bubbled back into Amalia's chest all over again.

N followed her into the room and she shut the door.

"It was a stupid question too, I knew you were close to your dad cos Hecate told me but I just wanted to -to know –"

"N it's… it's fine," she lied, sitting down on the bed. N came and sat next to her.

To his credit, it looked like he didn't believe her. "It is? Um, are you sure?" he asked.

Amalia hugged her knees as a tightness spread across her chest. "…no," she said, her voice sounding embarrassingly small.

"Oh," he said. Amalia felt his weight shifting next to her as he turned to embrace her in an awkward hug. "Amalia, I'm sorry about your dad. You clearly cared for him a great deal and… I'm really sorry."

"Um, N, what are you doing?" she said between sniffles.

"I'm trying to act comforting."

"Oh."

"Shut up, I saw them do this on a TV show, so I'm assuming it's what you're supposed to do."

Amalia laughed despite herself. "Oh my god," she said, leaning back and wiping at her eyes. "Are you serious?"

"No," he admitted. "When I was little, my sister would hold me like that when I was upset. I didn't really adjust well to suddenly being around people."

"You seem pretty alright with it now."

"It took a lot of work." For some reason, those words made Amalia sad.

"What was it like?" she said, "I mean, you said you were, uh, raised by pokémon, so… what was that like?"

"I don't really remember," he said. "I think… things were good for a while… but then something happened. Something bad."

"Oh."

N furrowed his brow, clearly trying to recall something. "I got sick. It wasn't bad at first… One of the pokémon taking care of me left to find food and never came back, and not long after the other one left also to find food. She never came back either. I think something might've happened to them."

"That's terrible, N."

"I got really, really sick after that. It was very cold, and I had nothing. Then, one day, a stranger reached out their hand to me, and there was… something about this person that was so familiar to me. I couldn't really understand much of what he said, but he knew my name! And –"

He was talking about Ghetsis.

"And as he carried me away, wrapped up in a blanket I just felt so safe and I just instinctually knew he was my father." N lay back on the bed and closed his eyes. "That's one of my favorite memories," he said.

"I had no idea that Ghetsis did all that for you."

"Yeah. I owe him so much. I… really hope I can make him proud one day."

Amalia felt her heart drop. "He should already be proud of you," she said.

"You think so?"

"Yeah, you're his child."

N seemed to perk up a little, and smiled. Amalia felt guilty all over again, for everything. Things that weren't her fault, that neither she nor N had any control over. She tried to reconcile the image N had painted of Ghetsis with what she now knew about the man. Even if he was a manipulative, lying bastard, he surely cared something for his son, right?

The governor had other kids, too. There were N's sisters, who were also Asherah and Ulisse's sisters, both of whom had never been mentioned by N.

In the photograph, Asherah looked like she was an adult. If she was an adult in '89, and Ghetsis was currently fifty-three years old, then there was no way she and Ghetsis were related. But the three girls were half-siblings, so that didn't really prove anything. If the younger girls were his kids, then Ghetsis was at one point sleeping with a woman at least fifteen years – Ok, Amalia didn't want to think about that. She didn't want that imagery anywhere near her brain. On a list of things she never wanted to think about, that was probably number 1, topping the list over a number of things she had yet to think about but were probably also pretty gross.

"What's wrong? You just made a weird face."

"Nothing!" she said, a little too quickly.

Anyway, if all four of Francesca's relatives shared the same mother, then it was likely none of them were Ghetsis' kids.

"N," she said, "do you know anyone named Asherah?"

He thought on it for a moment. "I don't think so," he said, shaking his head.

"Ok," she said, and dropped that line of inquiry. Shit, she'd need to talk to Francesca sooner or later.

"Amalia?" said N, snapping her attention back to the moment.

"Hm?"

"I'm, um… thanks. You're the only person I can really talk to about things like this… It's nice." He wasn't looking at her, but a warm feeling flooded into Amalia's chest at his admission. She leaned back on the bed, propping herself up with her elbows, and was overcome with the overwhelming urge to just touch him.

"Amalia?" he breathed, his voice breaking her out of her thoughts. "What are you doing?"

She was leaning over him, one of her hands cupping his face. He was kind of scruffy today, and Amalia enjoyed the prickly feeling as she ran her thumb over his jawline. "Do you want me to stop?" she asked.

"No."

Amalia shifted her body into a more comfortable position above him and leaned down to close the distance between them.

It was very awkward, but then, Amalia didn't really expect any different with N. She gently guided his hands to rest on her hips, thinking that he could figure out what to do with them from there. She shifted her position, body pressed flush against his, and kissed him again.

The second time wasn't as awkward. It was still sloppy, but whatever, Amalia wasn't a miracle worker. She rolled her hips, enjoying the feeling of his dick pressing into the soft flesh of her inner thigh –

And then she remembered just what he stood for. His beliefs, his goals, and how he adamantly refused to accept even the possibility he was wrong.

She sat up. "Um… I, uh, just remembered! That I'm… I'm on my period! Sorry N, guess we'll have to continue this another day!" she said as she led him out the door. "See you later!"

Once he was gone, she leaned back against the door and sat down. Her mind was overflowing with a continued chorus of "what the fuck." She'd really fucked it up this time. Ugh, now he'd probably never leave her alone. But was that what she actually wanted? She didn't want to think about this right now. She had a gym match in a couple of days, and that was definitely worth thinking about. Way more worthy of thought than whatever had just happened.

The day after her gym match, Burgh gave her a call.

"Hey, you wanna do something cool? Lenora is letting me visit their dig site on route four."

"It's the end of October."

"Yeah, so?"

"Burgh. I've got to prepare for the championships. I still need to beat two more gym leaders before January. I'm not sure if I have time…"

"Pfft! Brycen and Drayden are easy, you won't have any trouble," Burgh assured her.

Amalia didn't respond.

"Come onnnnnn!" he insisted, "Give in to peer pressure once in a while, will you? I will personally see to it that you win your last two gym matches on time."

"Besides," he continued, "it's not like you're actually gonna spend all that time training. Come on, Amalia, it'll take your mind off things."

It would be nice to not think about all that Team Plasma stuff for a while, so of course she went.

"What happened to your brother anyway?" Burgh said when he came to pick her up. "I haven't seen him in a while."

"Oh, he's grounded."

Burgh laughed. "Oh man! What a shame. I think my parents gave up on me when I was like, what, fifteen?"

"Well that's kind of depressing," said Amalia.

"Oh no no no, not like that," he said, taking one of his hands off the steering wheel. "My parents were pretty supportive of me. I mean, like, they gave up all hope that I would grow to be a normal member of society… y'know, marry a nice Jewish girl and have nice Jewish babies."

He paused and raised his eyebrows. "Now my grandma's holding out hope I'll meet a nice Jewish boy and adopt lots of nice Jewish babies, so the expectations are quite different!"

Burgh seemed to ponder that for a moment before speaking again: "You know, I don't think I've ever actually dated another Jew. Not that I'd be opposed to it, it's just so much funnier to hear my grandma complain about my taste in men."

He raised his voice to a falsetto, evidently trying to imitate an elderly Eastern European woman: "Oy vey, Arthur! That goy's much too short for you!"

"I don't think my parents ever really cared much who I dated, at least once I turned sixteen," said Amalia, "I dated a lot of football players."

"You would be the girl who only dates jocks, wouldn't you?"

"Shut up! I dated other guys too…"

They pulled into the parking lot of the Desert Resort's visitor's center where, according to Burgh, they were to meet Lenora.

When they met up with her, Lenora spoke in a very firm voice. "Remember, Burgh, don't touch anything without my permission."

"Haha, you don't have to worry about that! I'm just here to draw and take pictures. Since when have I ever…"

Lenora turned around, her deadpan gaze fixed on Burgh.

"I promise I won't touch anything," he said robotically.

They continued towards their destination, Lenora occasionally providing historical facts and background information about the area.

"While the top part of the structure is still standing, much of it has been buried in the sand. Some of the lower levels are completely inaccessible," Lenora explained, "we don't know exactly why the ancients built it, though the general consensus these days is that it served as an important part of the city. It's probably around, eh, 2500 years old."

"So it's older than Jesus," said Amalia.

"Or not, since Jesus wasn't necessarily real, y'know," Burgh added. Lenora rolled her eyes.

"Wait, so we're going inside?" asked Amalia, who was thinking about the structural integrity of a 2500 year old building that was buried in the dirt.

"It's pretty structurally sound," Lenora assured her.

"Well that's good, 'cause being crushed by several thousand tons of rock doesn't sound like a very good time."

Lenora ignored her comment. "We've excavated most of the higher floors, it's just taking a while to fully catalog all of our findings. Stuff like bones, pottery sherds, religious idols, wall carvings, stuff like that. Of course, most of that information is noted as we uncover these items, but putting it in a cohesive format makes it much easier to understand what we have."

A tent had been put up over the site's entrance to protect it from the elements. Inside, there were various excavation tools, ladders, and other things laid out. There were also two desks, stacked with several heavy notebooks that had been piled there haphazardly.

"Wow Lenora, you're getting messy," Burgh commented.

"That's not how I left it," she said, her brows furrowed.

"Huh?" Burgh said eloquently.

"I said I left my desk much neater than this," she repeated.

"Maybe one of the other archaeologists was looking through your research notes for reference?" suggested Amalia.

"You're right. Though I'd hope they would at least try to put things back where they found them… I'll have to have a talk with Marwan when he gets back on Tuesday… Anyways, come on. What I wanted to show you is a couple floors down." Lenora guided them down the stairwell and into the ruins.

"Don't volcarona live around here?" Burgh asked.

"Far too many of them," answered Lenora.

"There's no such thing as 'too many' bug pokémon."

"When they crowd around every available light source and accidentally set each other on fire then yes, there is such a thing."

"I want one," said Burgh quietly.

The walls of the ruin were carved into an intricate relief of geometric patterns, occasionally broken up by carvings of people or pokémon. As they got further down, the pictures gave way to occasional bits of writing, in a script that struck Amalia as looking vaguely familiar.

"Ha ha, this looks like Hebrew," said Burgh, who was standing in front of one particular wall of text. He leaned closer to the wall, squinting at the letters, "It's not, though."

He decided to set up shop there, declaring that "this is going to be the inspiration for my newest art exhibition." Amalia decided to look around as well, wandering a little ways down a nearby passage. The sounds of the native pokémon faded into the background, until she realized that those sounds were actually footsteps coming from the opposite end of the passage.

Amalia quickly walked back the way she came and stood stiffly next to Burgh, whom she was prepared to use as a human shield if need be.

A familiar liepard emerged from the passageway, followed by his familiar owner. He squinted across the room at Amalia, clearly not expecting to see her there. "Amalia? What are you doing here–"

"AUCKGHH," Burgh screamed, throwing his pencil and sketchbook into the air and scaring a solid three lives out of Cheren's cat.

Burgh clutched at his chest. "Holy shit! Why the fuck would you DO that? What is WRONG with you!?"

"What are you doing here, Cheren?" Amalia said, completely ignoring Burgh.

"Seriously I almost DIED!" Burgh lamented.

"I was training with Alder and apparently Team Plasma is in here?" he shrugged. "We came here and split up."

Burgh momentarily stopped whining to ask a question: "Wait. What is Team Plasma doing here?"

Cheren shrugged. "Hell if I know. I've been wandering around aimlessly for the past half-hour."

"Maybe they aren't actually here," said Amalia.

"How the fuck would I know? They might not be. It's like… Schrödinger's terrorists… or something."

"That's clever," said Burgh, "but if they're here to fuck up these ruins then I'm gonna have to give them a stern talking-to. With my fists."

"No Burgh," said Amalia.

"You said Alder was here? Where is he?" Burgh asked Cheren.

"I said we split up, didn't I?"

"Listen, if Team Plasma is really here, then we should probably tell Lenora about it," Amalia suggested.

"Oh. Yeah. That's probably a good idea," Cheren said.

It didn't take very long to find Lenora. She was only a little bit deeper in the ruins, examining some inscription on the wall.

"I just can't shake the feeling that someone else is down here," she said, mostly to herself.

"That's because Team Plasma is in here," said Cheren.

Lenora rolled her eyes. "Oh what the fuck," she said. "When will those people leave my shit alone!"

"Maybe they're preparing for the end of the world?" Burgh joked.

They followed Lenora to a set of stairs that led even deeper into the ruins, only to be met by Alder as he came up them.

"My bad," he said, "looks like Team Plasma isn't here after all."

"Oh my fucking god," Lenora muttered.

"We were in the area, when I saw some suspicious people lurking around the entrance," Alder explained.

"That was us you moron!" said Lenora, who was only seconds away from strangling Unova's champion.

"I realize that now."

"Ugh. Anyway, Burgh, Amalia, what I wanted to show you guys is just up ahead, so we might as well keep going."

She led them to a rather large room, the walls decorated with the same style of relief as the rest of the complex. The images on this wall seemed to tell a story.

It appeared to depict the two heroes of legend, squabbling over their petty disagreement, with what Amalia assumed to be the legendary dragons standing between them. There was some more text carved underneath the mural, which Amalia belatedly recognized as the same language as that manuscript she'd found in the cold storage. Where was that, anyway? She hadn't seen it since she cleaned out her backpack a couple weeks ago… oh. She'd thrown it away. Right.

"Hm… I was certain all of my research pointed to both of them being here, but…" said a voice not belonging to anyone in the room.

"It's fine, Boris. We have what we came for. Having the other one would have just been a nice bonus," said the governor's voice.

"See?" said Alder, "I was right."

Ghetsis smiled and raised an eyebrow, as if he had intended all along for their groups to meet. "Well, if it isn't the Unova champion! How fortunate that we should meet… and it seems you've brought some friends with you!" He glanced around the room, fixing a wicked look at Amalia.

"Are you here just to act smug and condescending, or do you actually have a purpose in being here?" said Cheren.

"We plan on freeing pokémon from the oppressive hands of their trainers. In Team Plasma's perfect world, humans and pokémon will have no contact with one another. To do this, we need the power of our region's legendary dragon. I received intel regarding an important artifact located within these ruins, and I'm here to retrieve it."

"So you're here to gloat," Cheren stated.

"You're going to separate humans and pokémon?" Alder asked. "That's bullsh–"

"If I recall correctly," Ghetsis began, "you're only champion on a technicality. You have no real authority to tell me what is and isn't right regarding pokémon training."

"I don't care! As champion, I won't allow you–"

"You're of no interest to me," he said, waving his hand dismissively and turning away from him. "Boris, take care of them, will you?"

"Of course."

"You must be so proud of yourself," Ghetsis said as he approached Amalia. "Getting in our way at every opportunity… what do you think you're going to accomplish?"

"Uh."

He came to a stop less than two feet away from her. "You think you're cute? Trying to save the world? HA!" He smiled. "I'll let you in on a little secret: the world's too stupid to be saved!"

Amalia took a step backwards.

He sighed. "Our king is fond of you… He thinks you've been chosen by fate to awaken the other dragon… but it doesn't matter. He's determined to follow the path that's been set for him, and he will succeed. Sure, our goals may result in the sadness of many…"

Ghetsis inhaled deeply. "…But there is no better moment than that which a person loses all hope, don't you think?"


wow this took a long time. in my defense, i really don't remember anything that happens after driftveil city, so i had to read about the rest of the game, and i HATE reading.

also, Burgh would totally have a Lurantis. Same pants!

Footnotes

1) i've already said, I changed the order of events

2) honestly, i can't help but think that the whole like unova legend about the two heroes fighting is dumb. like, i mean that they're fighting over 'truth and ideals.' what kind of bullshit disagreement is that? It's pretty inconsequential which one is 'more important' since they're abstract concepts when you really get down to it. Like, maybe the early Unovan civilisation was doomed in the first place because its leaders couldn't fucking prioritize and decided to debate philosophy with GIANT FUCKING DRAGONS, rather than, idk, run their damn city?

3) i decided to throw ya'll a bone here (GEDDIT? BONE? LOLOL) because like, yeah

4) Amalia can speak spanish. Why doesn't she? because I can't.