Flowers she most did love
Marcus was getting extremely annoyed. The day wasn't going so well for him. He had been woken up early by some bird pokémon and its annoying call, then he had accidentally got ash in his breakfast, so that was ruined, after that he had lost the morning battle against Tracy in a particularly embarrassing way, today's hike was not only uphill, but it was also through thick foliage, and on top of all that, the girls were playing an annoying game.
"We are walking, yes we are," Janet sang. "I wish it wasn't so far," sang Tracy. "Buy us a round at the bar," sang Janet.
"Will you two knock it off," grumbled Marcus.
"What you gonna do Mark, give us smacks?" Janet sang. "He's just grumpy from the sleep he lacks," Tracy sang. "Maybe it's 'cause your pokémon have better attacks," sang Janet. "Don't be mad Marcus, those are the facts," sang Tracy.
"Can you shut them up somehow?" Marcus asked Blackjack.
"Don't worry girls, I got your backs," said Blackjack with a mischievous grin. Marcus groaned. "Let's stop here and set down our packs. We can eat I brought some snacks," said Paul. "Nice one Paul," said Janet. Everyone but Marcus started laughing.
Janet and Tracy agreed to stop playing their little game which made Marcus a little bit happier. The snacks were pretty good for being wedged down in Paul's pack for several days. Tracy gave Blackjack a nibble as always, there was plenty of food. She got an idea.
"Hey Marcus, feel like catching something today?" asked Tracy.
The four humans waited in the bushes downwind as Blackjack rid the site of their scent. Of course, he received compensation for his services in the form of more food. Soon enough, a pokémon wandered towards the food.
It was a small pokémon, somewhat humanoid in that is was bipedal and had recognizable facial features: a mouth, eyes, ears and a nose. It had ocean blue fur that ran across its whole body except for around its torso, legs and face; where a faded black fur made the shape of a bandit's mask.
"It's so adorable," squealed Janet. "What is it?" whispered Marcus.
"It's a riolu, the pre-evolved form of lucario," said Tracy, "I used to have a lucario, they can be a real pain in the ass to train. Better let me take this one." She pulled out an ultra ball. "What no way! This one is mine!" said Marcus pulling out a pokeball. "Not if I get it first," said Janet as she whipped out the ball she had crafted in Azalea town. "What so you can keep it in its ball all day like your scyther?" Tracy snitted.
They all scrambled for the little riolu. Paul and Blackjack shook their heads.
"Yes!" shouted Janet as her ball hit the riolu. The riolu growled as the ball bounced off of its head ineffectually. "Hey what gives, what did you do Mark?" Janet whined. "Somebody must already own it," Tracy sighed, "I knew it was too good to be true." A flustered looking park ranger emerged from the forest, "Oh, thank goodness you're alright Louis!"
"Yes I saved him," said Janet in her sing song voice. She sauntered up close to the ranger. "Uh… thank you Ma'am," he squeaked.
"Oh, you can call me Janet."
The chair hissed as the lady slid down into it, almost as if it were preparing itself for the long workday that lay ahead. The lady frowned as she examined the mess in front of her, searching for the pencil hidden amongst the towers of paper that teetered precariously beside her computer. She rubbed her hands together in an effort to regain some dexterity from the dank chill of the cramped computer-room. Where had she set that pencil down?
With a frustrated sigh, the lady gave up on finding it and began to massage her temples gently. It was time for a break. She had to get a hold of herself, there were probably pencils in the kitchen, no need to get upset. The chair hissed once more as she rose.
She scoured the kitchen for a pencil, searching through all the drawers methodically, but found none: she had used all of them up. She surveyed the kitchen one more time just to be sure, though she knew she was only fooling herself.
"What would the book club say about this?" she thought to herself with a gentle smile as her eyes fell upon the mountain of dirty dishes resting in the sink beside the wilted sunflowers.
The lady hadn't seen the book club in awhile: it had been the first thing to go as she became more and more involved in her task. She had never really cared for reading anyways. The lady had slowly streamlined her day to devote as much attention as possible to the task. By now, all she did was eat, bathe and manage the business when it became necessary; sleeping came in the form of short powernaps. There was no time to dawdle, it was so close to being finished. She had to find a pencil!
She searched every room thoroughly expect one, though she knew she could find one in there. His school things were still heaped on his desk after all: surely there must be a pencil among his school things. She had promised not to touch his things until he returned, however she doubted he would notice a missing pencil – he was a little oblivious at times. She hesitated at the door.
The lady did not want to go into that room; she kept the door closed so that she could pretend the house wasn't empty... again.
For the sake of her task she had to betray that promise. She picked at the pile carefully, trying to disturb his room as little as possible. She took a few pencils from the pile and slipped out of the room, closing the door behind her with a sigh. The lady never had a mother, but she imagined her's would have felt the same way she was feeling. With a heavy heart, she crept back to her chair: back to the task.
It looked like a simple wooden box and in many ways it was. It was made of a dense, black wood with a glossy finish, but that was it, no inlay, no details, no designs; just a simple wooden box with a simple keyhole. However, the locking mechanism itself was the most complex the lady had ever seen. It seemed to thwart every lockpicking technique she threw at it. It was incredibly frustrating. She had wanted to cut it open on several occasions - and she would have, if she didn't know her old acquaintance had probably rigged it to explode if she tried anything so crass.
The lady had begun mapping out the locking mechanism, drawing every contour and bump in an attempt to crack it. Today was the day she would finish it; today was a day that would call for great despair. Finishing the final line, she examined her 'map', with disbelief - it couldn't be right. No key would work for such a byzantine mechanism.
It was almost as if it had been designed specifically… for her.
She shuddered. The lady hadn't picked a lock that way for years, she wasn't even sure if she could do it anymore. But if that was what was required, then she really didn't have much of a choice.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, drawing her hand close to the lock. The familiar draining feeling that she could never quite become accustomed to struck her again. It was as if time had never existed, that terrible power came back to her with frightening ease. The lady fell back into her hissing chair exhausted as the lock opened with a soft click.
