Disclaimer- I do not own Pokemon and expect no profit from this endeavor.
May 27th, 17:25
The good news is that one crisis has been averted. I found my wallet, or rather, someone else did. I also scanned and forwarded the beachhouse documents to Sofia. The other news is not necessarily bad but certainly weird and somewhat concerning. It may prove a looming disaster, primed to explode in my face. It may also be the start of a fascinating friendship. Only time will tell. Hopefully, I simply manage to attract eccentric (but ultimately harmless) people and not living catastrophes.
Beginning with the subject least likely to induce a headache, Sofia should be especially appreciative of the first uncovered document (regarding her summer training). She clearly lived up to her mentor's expectations. Sofia Mori is and was a "great trainer" whose team "functions with efficiency, harmony, and unmatched passion." Arren, the mighty butt-scooting arcanine, would agree. As for "allow[ing] herself...childhood," Sofia embodies a youthful fervor, openness, and kindness, even in grief and old age. Moreover, she continually inspires students attending the Johto Battle Academy.
As for the case of the disappearing wallet, it appears I'm not the only one who lost something today. This morning, the team and I checked the police station lost-and-found and made a report while Clarisse swooned over some officer's sawsbuck. She has a thing for flora and those antlers sported some impressive May blossoms.
We then proceeded to retrace our steps from yesterday. Shifting sand and rifling through beachgrass, I was startled by an unaccompanied maractus, camouflaged in the bush. What's more, it was an unaccompanied maractus with my wallet. The relief was so overwhelming I nearly impaled myself attempting to hug the hero of the day. Maractus spikes aren't terribly sharp but, with sufficient force, may inflict nasty triangular wounds. Surgeons despise those.
After a brief celebration and unconscious flirting on Clarisse's part (flowers, again) another inquiry arose. Maractus aren't native to this part of Unova, so I assumed our new friend must have a trainer. Yet, ten minutes had elapsed and we were still alone. This came to an abrupt end when Felicia and her eelektross appeared, sprinting down the shoreline.
If you've never witnessed an eelektross utilize their levitate ability, look it up. The sight is both supremely graceful and uncanny. Eelektross skin is lined with a conductive mucus and tiny diamaglev organs, allowing them to swim sinuously and silently through the air. Due to the effort involved, they resort to this method of locomotion primarily for three reasons; a) to avoid ground type attacks, b) to navigate rough terrain, and c) to cross distances at speed. An eelektross in rapid motion is extremely intimidating, as I'm now aware.
Felicia, who, until this point, had been the epitome of teenage composure, was utterly distraught. She knelt before her maractus, keening like an injured floatzel (a familiar wail, courtesy of Sinnoh pokemon centers). The horrific, extraordinary expressions overtaking her face captured the essence of crying in the most primal, unfiltered way possible. Yet, no tear was shed; only strangled breaths and a broken litany of, "We couldn't find you. Why did you leave us? Don't do that! Please, never again." Finally, Felicia settled, trembling, with the maractus in her arms and the eelektross curled protectively round them both.
Perhaps it's wrong to leap to conclusions, but I think something sick and tragic happened to her. She lost someone, probably in a sudden and traumatic way. If Clarisse wandered off, of course I'd be anxious. Nevertheless, my leavanny is intelligent, well-trained, and a loyal friend. Unless she'd been gone for an unreasonable time, I'd expect her safely back. Felicia strikes me as a skilled trainer, beloved of her team. I can't imagine her maractus wouldn't have returned as well. This dramatic reaction suggests no small degree of internal anguish.
In fact, a bit of that internal anguish almost manifested in aggression, misdirected at me. By some miracle, we assured the incensed trainer that I had not pokenapped her maractus and avoided electrocution. Her flowery baby was simply off doing good deeds; aiding some numbskull who loses their stuff and may or may not have been wearing their shirt backwards.
I didn't anticipate encountering Felicia again and certainly not like this. What occurred next, though, was even more astonishing. My UNSA ID had fallen in the sand and, as she bent to retrieve it, the trainer inquired as to my particular scientific field. When I disclosed my identity as a spiritual physicist, the girl paused for a moment. Then, as if a meowstic had raised its ears to unleash psychic torrents, she unleashed a torrent of fantastic queries.
I am a nerd. My academic niche is, regrettably, miniscule. When someone expresses even a smidgen of interest or competency in said niche, my heart floats skyward like a hoppip on acid. Felicia offered more. She didn't converse like someone who may have read an SP textbook. She sounded like she may have written one.
They say all ace trainers know each other. All jazz drummers know each other. All eevee breeders know each other. The mystical interconnectedness of these small worlds is usually exaggerated. Spiritual physicists? We do all know each other (or, at least, of each other). It's a new field and, if you're in the game, you recognize each and every one of the players; their names, their affiliated universities, the irritating stylistic habits that show up in their journals. Felicia speaks like a major player but is bewilderingly alien to me.
I also never expected to hear the words "oscillating mirror-matter ambiguity phenomena" from the mouth of what looked to be a sixteen year old. It's like watching a deerling pull a truck. Eventually, the topic of my NSEmeter design came up and she regarded me with this quiet, appraising intensity; the same scrutiny I received right before she dragged my oblivious rear into her double battle.
Then, lo and behold, she asked if I'd like to meet for coffee tomorrow. I accepted instantly. This was a rare kindred scientific spirit. Our pokemon had also left excellent impressions on one another. The eelektross was smitten with Vivi (adorable little jerk), Clarisse was enamored of the maractus' fuschia blooms, and Baron was eager to acquire an, albeit much larger, swimming-mate. I also wondered if she might appreciate my investigation of Julianne V. Skye. Every spiritual physicist has studied Dr. Skye. I don't know a single one of us who doesn't hail her as the mother of the field. Perhaps, in Felicia, I might find another ally to join the ranks of Maria, the Quiaa family, and Sofia.
As we arranged our appointment and parted ways, I managed to glean the trainer's full name; Felicia Kerian. We returned to the hotel room markedly more content than before. I intended to survey my databases of Julianne's work in an effort to compare the beachhouse documents to previously known sources. However, I first thought to familiarize myself with our new acquaintance. Call me a stalker, but I'm glad I did this. She was remarkably, dare I say suspiciously, elusive.
I may periodically fumble with childproof cabinets, but I took a myriad of informatics courses and can perform comprehensive searches more adeptly than some former professors. My exploration of Dr. Skye's story further honed these skills. If someone is online, I can find them.
Felicia is obviously educated but there are no school records or scholarly references to her on any academic level; not even a yearbook, club photo, or citation in some article with an audience of eleven. She's also an outstanding trainer, which usually lends itself to notoriety. Gyms and official league events take note of challengers and participants. This pathway drew a blank as well, regionally and internationally. Thus, I can only assume she only takes part in low-profile battles with cash transactions; no registration required.
For all intents and purposes, Felicia Kerian is virtually nonexistent. Everyone leaves traces; legal records, pokecenter sign-ins, public wifi connections, social media, even the odd accidental photobomb. You can start with someone's TrainerSpace username and end up with their full name, city, location, photo, and email address.
Aside from our personal encounters, this girl appears definitively only once. Someone posted a video of a battle in Lacunosa town (which I suspect was filmed on a pecha berry). She's barely recognizable and I found this clip by searching for the eelektross, not her. Here, the formidable pokemon fought and defeated a simisage, an excadrill, and a braviary. Excadrill and braviary, in particular, cannot evolve without significant experience, supporting my assertion that Felicia is not your typical low-mid level competitor. I attempted to continue investigating using screenshots from the video, but nothing else surfaced. I'm forced to consider what that might mean.
At best, she's shy and unambitious with sparse history in community involvement. That's beyond unlikely. People aren't that invisible and our interactions suggest a very different personality. At worst, she's a legitimate fugitive. Criminal? Undercover agent or journalist? Maybe she's a runaway, off on an underage pokemon journey without her partner's consent. Regardless, the name Felicia Kerian is probably a pseudonym.
I'm uncertain how best to address this dilemma. I respect Felicia. I even like her, despite the odd mix of severity and spontaneity. She's brilliant, loves her pokemon, and has potent conviction. She's also potentially dangerous. People like this are rife with variables. I don't know what she's hiding or how serious it is.
I also don't know how far she'll go to protect it. Her eelektross, though incredibly sweet, is certainly capable of murdering my entire team and I, unassisted; consuming the evidence too. He seemed a gentle pokemon at heart, but a cocktail of self preservation and devotion to a trainer can inspire exceptional viciousness. I don't doubt Clarisse would sever limbs, maybe heads, to protect us.
Another question also arises. Why Undella Town? At first, I took her for the traveling trainer type; gathering strength to take on the league. Undella Bay is a sensible stop along the way. Many skilled foreign league members vacation here, rendering it a point of convergence for aspiring battle stars. Felicia, I now realize, doesn't fit this mold. Next time we speak, I'll attempt to subtly unveil her reason for visiting. Perhaps she'll tell the truth or, at least, a very informative lie (same result).
I did come across one amusing and intriguing advertisement on a blog, though. "Grand opening; Felicia's Seaside Chocolatier in sunny Undella Town. Come and get it." What interests me is that no such place exists in Undella town, or anywhere in Unova. The closest match was Felicia's Dessert Bar in Castelia City. The blog content itself is riveting; the type of material I might enjoy in leisure, though the prose is rather lifelessly academic. It's a mixture of biopsych, neurobiology, neurochem, and a bit of theoretical sci-fiesque thought experiments. The blogger (curse it all) is anonymous, employing the pseudonym 'Ira.'
Why this neuroscience buff decided to advertise a nonexistent candy store, I've no idea. Somehow, I don't think Felicia came to sell chocolate. Frankly, I don't trust her customer service skills. She's imperious, aloof, and plain bizarre, though charming, in a determined, intellectual way. Still, I'll keep the advert in the back of my mind. If anything, I found a new blog to peruse.
However, recent revelations complicate our imminent coffee appointment. I'm not certain it's wise to continue this exchange. I could be implicated in something over my head. Then again, I'm already involved in a plethora of things so far over my head I might as well read with a telescope. In the event that I do attend our meeting (which I would very much like to), perhaps it's best to withhold the information on Dr. Skye.
The situation is unsettlingly perfect. A teenager with no online records and expertise in spiritual physics shows up at a little-known key location concerning the officially deceased founding scientist of the field. Coincidentally, another SP researcher (investigating said scientist) is there at the same time and they just happen to cross paths. Probability-wise, that's abnormal. It would be shrewd to gain further insight before liberally bestowing secrets I've labored three years to uncover.
I also pray she's only interested professionally, because I'm way too old for her romantically. Yes, I appear young, but I'm out of grad school and that awkward middle-aged phase is approaching fast. Unless we both have a case of misleading babyface, we're not compatible.
On another note, my pursuit of Dr. Skye must wait tonight. The Unovan Department of Defense desires to move forward regarding my research. The first NSEmeter installations are scheduled to take place in three weeks on cargo ships that frequent jellicent-infested waters. Usually smaller fishing vessels and yachts are most vulnerable, but there was an instance last year where thirty people and hundreds of millions of pokedollars worth of product went into the brine. It was a Unovan ship enroute back from Hoenn. The crew was multinational, inciting a borderline diplomatic scandal. Both the company and government face pressure to ensure such a fiasco never occurs again.
Whenever I receive a UDD email or review a draft of my publication for Scientific Unova, I must pause to assess the astounding reality of it all. My work exists beyond the page. It will make a difference for people and pokemon worldwide. The research, which I spent the better part of my PhD refining, may now save lives, just as some of Dr. Skye's discoveries have. This revelation is at once empowering and humbling.
In addition to continuing preparations with the UDD, I must also prepare my pokemon for the ever rising stakes in our personal sphere. I can't decidedly claim that my dreams, Felicia Kerian, or the trajectory of my mission are inherently fraught with peril. Nonetheless, they might be and the uncertainty is unnerving. The hotel has a small practice arena in the basement where my pokemon can spar. Our training will encompass a specific form of functional, not sport, battling. Therefore, it seems I'll be reading Dr. Skye's "Spirit and Stratagem" again. Perhaps I'll seek Sofia's advice as well...
The immediate threat is this possible ghost or psychic type stalker. Vivi, as a vullaby, is naturally most useful against this opponent. However, she is also the youngest and weakest member of the team. (further handicapped by recklessness and an, admittedly, dismal attention span). As well as instilling some discipline and battle IQ, I plan to teach her two new moves; knockoff and u-turn.
Under traditional circumstances, knockoff would be reserved for a more experienced vullaby, but it's critical we make a premature attempt. Vivi needs a damage-dealing dark type attack. U-turn, on the other hand, would provide her with an opportunity to bail if the situation became ugly, going out with bang and providing a teammate with cover. If the opportunity presented itself, Vivi would be wise to use flatter too, for ghosts and psychics rely heavily on special attack and the confusion might also offer a brief offensive window or escape hatch.
Clarisse, my starter, and simultaneously most adept and reluctant fighter, would put pressure on a psychic but possess no advantage against a ghost. Whereas Vivi's strategy is applicable to both, Clarisse must develop separate approaches. When fighting a psychic (ex. beheeyem) the attack must be swift and disorienting to prevent the opponent from crippling (or destroying) her mind. String-shot would serve to immobilize and startle them, and struggle-bug would inflict damage. Normal type moves like slash and false swipe would be employed as needed. To attack ghosts, physically, is fruitless. Her greatest asset against them will be her speed and ferocious razor leaf.
Baron, regardless of the opponent, will likely focus on crunch and confuse ray. Furthermore, his immunity to ghost types would serve him splendidly. Unfortunately, sand attack, one of his favorites, would be of little use, as strong ghosts and psychics are often able to detect an organism's presence, despite impaired vision.
The prospect of teaching the entire team knockoff also has promise. The elder pair, Clarisse and Baron, could perfect it first and impart their mastery to Vivi. Then comes the tricky bit; merging these strategies. In mortal peril, fighting one-on-one is overrated Here, we operate as a team.
As for Felicia's eelektross… our best bet would be to simultaneously fling string shot, flatter, and sand attack before immediately fleeing for our lives. With any luck, the inconvenient barrage of silk, dirt, and neurological trauma would buy us a fifteen second head start. During the previous double battle it became apparent that Felicia prefers to keep her maractus on the sidelines, so I'm not certain what issues would present themselves there.
As with most things, pokemon training is considerably easier to envision than execute. I elected to leave the battlefield to my brother Luca, partially because I find scholarship more engaging, partially because I tend to crumple and spew incoherent word-vomit instead of commands under combat pressure. Strategic knowledge aside, I suck.
There's a special sort of cruelty in this breed of failure. Intellectually, I am a more skilled pokemon trainer than Luca; than many people, actually. Yet, in the heat of battle, all charisma and fortitude dissipates in a flash. Even my knowledge dissolves, drowned by the surge of cortisol and adrenaline. Some musicians are in their element onstage. Under the spotlight, absorbing the energy of an audience, fear is nowhere to be found, only delicious focus. Others bemoan the fact that their best performances took place in the practice room with an audience of none. They struggle with shaky bow, tremble so much while they sing it elicits artificial vibrato, even barf backstage.
As a child, I wanted to be exactly like Dr. Skye; a master scientist, musician, and pokemon trainer. She had this effortlessness about her in battle that I could never replicate. Instead, I taught my little brother right out of her books and seminar videos. Luca isn't brilliant, but he's driven and confident. He can think while he fights and, a long time ago, he even listened to the older brother who loves him. I had once thought we could be like Julianne and John.
Battle-wise, my only saving grace is the blessed natural prowess of my beautiful pokemon. I give them moves, drills, and simulations to practice, they apply them, because there's no guarantee I won't faint like someone's great grandmother instead of reminding Baron to watch his left flank. I know this because it's exactly how my first schoolyard battle during recess ended. Clarisse and Baron forfeited the contest; too busy using tackle on my chest as a makeshift form of CPR. I wasn't actually having a heart attack but regaining consciousness in the nurse's office was so humiliating I almost wished for one.
Perhaps it's undignified to write these things for posterity. Then again, teenage Julianne once stood outdoors in a yoke and shackles like some BDSM fetishist to protest mistreatment of gurdurr in Roshan's factories (she was almost arrested after police thought it a resurgence of the Team Plasma scare). Dignity is the least of our concerns. Those sublime artists and scholars, truly devoted to their craft, sacrificed dignity at the altar of greatness long ago...sometimes they just have what-the-fuck moments too.