I'm a horrible, lazy author...sorry, I promise to do my best to start updating regularly again.
Chapter Fourteen: Francis
(x)
Now what was he supposed to do?
The map wasn't helpful. Off the main path between cities, it was an uncharted blur. Here be the dragonite. He could go that way...but he didn't know.
Azalea had a gym. Past there was Violet. Far above, along a second path, was another strip of cities with two other gyms. There was a route back down toward Violet at the end. So he could go that way, back up, gets those badges first instead.
Go to Fuchsia and Cinnabar and fight there.
He didn't know why he thought of that, of Michael's advice. It wasn't - no one had told him that, not this time. This time, he was just going by chance, like he'd meant to do in Kanto. It didn't matter what order he went in. Not in Johto. He shook his head.
Azalea was blocked. So he would go back the way he'd come.
Back. He didn't really feel scared at the thought, just a sort of emptiness. What had happened was closed off, remote and disconnected. It had just happened and then it was past, like it hadn't been. It wasn't any more a part of Goldenrod than it was a part of him.
It didn't matter, not at all.
(x)
In the grassy open area just before the city, trainers had gathered for battles. One started on the path Elliot was on.
"Go, Cuddles!" the girl said. Elliot blanched at the name. It could have scarcely been less appropriate for a jolteon.
The pokemon, at least, was a small and somewhat timid seeming one. If not particularly cuddly, it was closely reminiscent to the sort of girl Elliot imagined would be the kind to name something Cuddles despite the ridiculousness of it.
Her opponent, also female, smirked. She had a hard, lean look to her, the sort of girl who – on television at least – would be part of a loose gang of boys that ran wild and committed casual acts of violence while chain-smoking. She plucked her own pokeball from her belt with a sort of annoyed movement and popped it open, forgoing the more dramatic toss the younger girl had chosen. A marrowak appeared.
The girl had six pokemon, and it was unlikely all her others had a disadvantage. Any remaining doubt as to the reason of her choice was removed when she yelled confidently, "Femur, show that wuss of a cubone what a real pokemon can do!"
Elliot didn't want to watch the battle. She was doing it just to humiliate the other girl. He headed away, into the city.
(x)
And so Elliot was back in Goldenrod.
He was not scared. He was not apprehensive or frightened or upset or anything else.
So it was for no reason that Caw was out, riding on his shoulder. He'd just felt like it, that was all.
A boy with a murkrow on his shoulder was the least of things going on there, and no one else in the crowd spared them a second glance.
This view was not universal, though. From nowhere, a small group of murkrow assembled, one perching on a horizontal flagpole, two others on the sill of a second-story window, and the last on the rim of a store canopy. They cawed, the words thick and hard to understand. Caw replied in kind, a harsh, perhaps dialect speech.
((That your trainer?))
((Is.))
((Out because?))
((He wants.))
((Attract us know?))
((Doesn't – not care.))
((Which city from?)
((Here. Aren't all?))
They cawed in a way that might have been laughter. There was also something of admiration Elliot couldn't understand. ((Not picked up alone though?))
((Was.))
((Lucky, lucky,)) they chorused appreciatively. ((You anything shiny-special? Were?))
((Didn't think.))
((First trainer?))
((Of many.))
((Trade?))
((Always.))
((Lucky lucky lucky,)) they cawed again. ((Shiny-special now, sure.)) They crowed appreciatively and flew off, disappearing as abruptly and unobtrusively as they'd appeared.
Elliot wasn't sure what to make of the conversation. Some murkrow thing, he supposed. He thought of things Prowler had said. "Caw, you're friends with other murkrow?" he asked hopefully.
((I didn't know them, if that's what you mean,)) Caw replied, aware it wasn't.
"But you're like…" Elliot was struggling to phrase it in a way that would avoid the real question. "You're friendly with them?"
It was a fortunate wording, but Caw would just have lied anyway, so it didn't matter. ((Of course.))
(x)
Elliot passed a hamburger stand and was reminded that Goldenrod had hamburgers. It was a bit of an odd choice for a late breakfast, but he headed over anyway and ordered one. He sat down and began to eat.
"Hey," said a girl's voice. "Elliot?"
He turned. A girl – or was she? She looked so adult – was looking at him. Suddenly she recognized her. The girl Miguel had been talking to. His sister.
She bowed slightly. "Thank you for helping my brother. I apologize for the imposition, as well as for your taking his burden." She held out something, a piece of metal that dangled on a leather strip, catching the light. "Please take this in return."
Elliot reached out his hand, and the necklace pooled into his palm. "May your journey be safe," she said, and vanished back into the crowded streets before he could say anything.
He looked down at the gift instead. It was a flat, thin metal tag with faint, unrecognizable markings, polished and shining. His fingertips seemed to tingle when he brushed them over the metal, but the feeling vanished before he was sure.
Not knowing what else to do with it, he dropped it into a pouch in his bag.
(x)
Lacking anything else he needed to do, Elliot dropped into the Pokecenter to heal his pokemon. He already had the Plainbadge, and he didn't feel like wandering around after what had…he didn't feel like wandering around. After his pokeballs were returned, he let his pokemon out to wander around and played checkers with another trainer a few months younger than him.
Someone turned the television up. "…police continue to search for Camille Bellamy, daughter of Patrick Bellamy, one of Goldenrod's most prominent breeders. Police believe she may have been kidnapped for a ransom. Her last known whereabouts were the yearly Baby Tourney, where…"
Elliot looked away, ignoring it.
"Hey," said a boy, heading over to where Elliot was sitting. "What's your name? I feel like I've seen you before."
He looked up, facing the TV screen again. The other boy was standing half in front of it. "I'm Elliot."
"Hm." He thought. "No, I don't think so," the other boy said after a moment. "Maybe I saw you in passing."
"…asked that if anyone has any information, please go to the police…"
"I was here in Goldenrod a little while ago," Elliot said.
"Ah, that must be it," the boy said.
An image was on the screen, of a girl with light brown hair. The screen was too small and distant to see the face.
"What's your name?" Elliot asked.
"Me? My name is Francis."