o.0.o.0.o

The Adventure Saga

The Art of Progression

o.0.o.0.o

Start Date; August 20th, X018

o.0.o.0.o

Brendan was getting scratched up and gnawed at by a Mightyena he was fighting while Torchic was spewing Ember to keep the others at bay. These Mightyena…

He growled as the Mightyena went for his throat, but Brendan blocked it with his arm. His other hand lashed out, grabbing it's throat and squeezing until it let go. Citygirl was new to Hoenn, and he didn't want her to be scared to travel around. This region was safe and friendly, but somehow her first encounter with the wildlife was nearly getting mauled and drowned.

"Hey!" Brendan called up as Torchic darted forward, scratching at Mightyena's eyes. Citygirl was holding his bag to his chest, staring down at him with a wide-eyed, horrified gaze. "Listen, I know you say you don't battle… But I need a hand here!"

The only choice Brendan felt he had was to fight. If he went any closer to Oldale, these Mightyena might start attacking other people. He couldn't let that happen!

But they weren't letting up on him, and he couldn't just…

"You!" Citygirl suddenly shouted. "Go! Hit them or… something!"

They were shoddy battle commands at best, but effective. As Brendan shoved to get Mightyena to release, Treecko suddenly leapt down the tree and slammed into Mightyena's side. That forced the pokémon to let go. As Treecko recoiled off that one, she slammed into another Mightyena.

"So you chose Treecko!" Brendan grinned up at Citygirl, who had her eyes shut with a hand to her chest. "Good choice! She's a diligent pokémon!"

"I have no intention of keeping her! I'm just helping you out so you don't kill yourself!" Citygirl shouted back. "Treecko, hit it again!"

Treecko glanced at Citygirl, then crossed her arms, turning her gaze away. Brendan blinked.

"Torchic, keep them back! Ember!" Brendan ordered Torchic, who complied. "Citygirl, Treecko knows Absorb, Growl, and Pound. Maybe she needs a clearer demand!"

"All right then. Treecko, Pound!"

Again, Treecko ignored her. Brendan blinked in surprise.

"Treecko, use Pound." he pointed to one of the Mightyena and Treecko leapt into action. "Huh, well that's weird…"

"I told you!" Citygirl snapped at him. "I'm not a trainer, I'm not good at this!"

"Yeah, but I've known these pokémon since they've hatched. They never disobeyed Dad or me…"

"All the more reason for me to not enter this trainer nonsense!" Citygirl sounded exasperated and exhausted. Treecko shared a look similar to her, glancing at Brendan. Treecko muttered something, and Brendan was quiet.

"Hey, I know she seems kinda snotty but I still need you to listen so we can get out of this." Brendan said simply. "I need to get these things back to my Dad, anyways, and your stubbornness here isn't going to fix anything."

Treecko sighed, evidently rolling her eyes, but seemed to resolve herself.

Between Treecko's rib-breaking Pounds and Torchics Embers, they managed to create a system that would knock the Mightyena away, and used the fire to keep them away. Citygirl would sometimes throw out demands to Treecko, but more often than not, the grass-type would ignore her while Torchic followed Brendan's orders to the letter.

It was honestly a little baffling, since Brendan knew these guys weren't to a high enough level that they should be disobeying a trainer with no badges. Maybe it was a personality clash?

Soon enough, the Mightyena darted away, apparently deciding to cut their losses and unwilling to get any closer to the fires that Torchic was spreading. Brendan let out a sigh.

"Is it over?" Citygirl asked.

"Yep!" Brendan grinned at her. "You can come down now!"

"… How?"

"Climb down, silly!"

"Do I look like a pokémon to you?! How am I supposed to climb down?!"

Brendan found himself cringing slightly. That made her mad…

"Well, how about you jump?" Brendan offered, extending his arms. "I'll catch you!"

"Do I look like I want to die?! You got me up here! Get me down!"

Citygirl was almost spewing fire with her words, and Brendan brought his arms back to his sides. Treecko was snickering to herself, and Brendan shot her a look.

"I'm not leaving her up there." he sighed. Digging his fingers into the bark, he glanced up. "Gimme a minute, I'm coming!"

Quickly, he scurried up to where she was, grasping at a vine from a nearby tree. After a spout of adjusting, Brendan had on arm around Citygirl's waist and she was clinging to his neck. Slowly, they eased down on the vine, back to where Treecko and Torchic were waiting.

"You know, uh, when I said you smelled…" Brendan trailed off, avoiding her gaze as she swiped her hands down her shirt. He scooped up the apple that had fallen earlier. "I didn't mean to say you smelled bad. You smell pretty good! Just, like the city too. There's a difference, you know."

"Listen, Brendan," Citygirl sighed, holding out the bag to him. He looped it over his shoulder. "I don't know what you're trying to do but you don't open your introduction with 'you smell'. No matter what you meant people will assume the worse and-" She paused as he brought the apple to his lips. Suddenly, she lashed out, grabbing his wrist. "Don't eat that!"

"Huh? Why?"

"It was on the floor! The gross, nasty, forest floor!"

"Oh, it's fine. I ate way worse before."

"Good grief, what kind of barn…" Citygirl tried to take the apple from his grasp, but the moment she did, Treecko suddenly rammed into her ankle.

She buckled like a tree that was chopped down.

"You little-!" she glared at Treecko, nursing her now bruised ankle.

"That wasn't very nice, Treecko." Brendan noted as took a bite of the apple, glancing back and forth between the two. Citygirl gawked at him.

"Brendan…"

"Oh, sorry." Brendan extended the apple to her. "Wanna bite?"

"… No, Brendan. I do not want a bite of the apple that both fell on the dirty forest floor and that you are eating."

"Suit yourself," Brendan shrugged. Swiping away the juice on his face with his arm, he crouched beside Citygirl. "So… Where's home? I can probably take you there!"

"… Littleroot Town." Citygirl sighed. "I just moved here and it's a long story as to why I was in the moving truck, but I fell out and I'm exhausted. Can you show me the way?"

Brendan smelled a wide smile. Tossing the apple core aside, he hopped up.

"That's easy! It's just a hop, skip, and a jump from Oldale Town!"

"Oh thank Lugia…" Citygirl sighed out of relief. "At least it sounds like you'll be reliable."

She stood up, hand on her hips as she glanced his way.

"Well… lead the way!"

o.0.o.0.o

"Aaaaaand here we are!" Brendan grinned, standing just at the edge of Littleroot Town. Brendan blinked, glancing over his shoulder. Citygirl had her hands on her knees, heaving in breathes of air.

"I thought you said," she looked at him, annoyed. "That it was a 'hop, skip, and a jump'?"

"Oh, well, I mean…" Brendan chuckled slightly, walking back towards her and taking her hand. "I guess for me it's pretty easy, but maybe you need to run a few laps?"

"Delightful." she groaned as he lead her up the hill. As looked around, her gaze relieved but also… disappointed. "You weren't lying when you said it was small."

"Yeah! It's great, isn't it?"

"…Definitely not something I'm used to."

Her tone was definitely more disappointed than Brendan had hoped, and that kinda made him a little sad. When he found out she was moving into Littleroot Town, a part of him was super excited. Another new friend for him to start a journey with, alongside the Gym Leaders kid! But she seemed completely disenchanted with the small-town quaintness of Littleroot.

"Well, hopefully, you can get used to it." Brendan crossed his arms behind his head. "It's not that bad, I promise."

"If you say so…" Citygirl trailed off with a sigh. She turned to him, Treecko's pokéball in hand. "Listen, thanks for letting me borrow Treecko, but I was serious when I said I have no aspirations to be a trainer. You should give him-"

"Her." Brendan corrected. He glanced at the pokéball. "… Are you sure, though?"

"Right, her. Sorry. And yeah, I'm sure. You should give her to a trainer that will appreciate her. I'm not it. Sorry. Plus, uh…" she closed her eyes, jawline clenched slightly. "I don't think she likes me very much anyways."

"Well, pokémon are quick to warm up, but I won't force you to take her." Brendan took the pokéball and tucked it back into his bag.

"Oh, and Brendan, listen…" Citygirl pulled her fannypack around to her front, rummaging through it. "I don't know how or why you're living in the middle of the forest, but uh…" she trailed off, closing her eyes. She held out a small bag of chips, and a couple of poké bills. "I do owe you, for helping me out."

"I'm fine! You're supposed to help people if they need it!" Brendan held up his hands. "I don't wanna take your money or your food."

"I insist. Think of it as me helping you. I don't know if there's an inn nearby, but please, just stay the night." she pushed the bills into his hand. "Take a shower. You'd be doing every- yourself a huge favor. And please, don't eat any more food off the forest floor. It's just… it's really not healthy at all."

"Fiiiine." Brendan sighed, taking the chips and the money. Citygirl seemed like the type that wouldn't take no for an answer, anyways. He had no plans on going to an inn, he'd just get her something with the money. "But if you ever need help finding friends, call my name! I've covered every nook and cranny of these surrounding routes, I'm sure I can find you the pokémon you're looking for!"

"Right. I'll… do that." she sounded reluctant, but nonetheless, she smiled. "Honestly, though, thank you for all your help, Brendan."

Brendan lowered his gaze, feeling heat crawling up his neck.

"Aw, shucks, well… You're super welcome, Citygirl!"

She nodded to him with that same small smile, then turned on her heel and walked towards Littleroot. Brendan watched as she turned towards a house that still had the moving truck pulling away. As she got to the door, a woman with Citygirls hair color opened the door.

"May!" the woman exclaimed as she yanked her inside.

Brendan smiled. May, huh? That was a nice month to be named after! Looks like her family was worried about her!

"Brendan!"

Speaking of family…

"Mom!" he grinned, running towards her. He leapt to hug her, and she wrapped her arms tightly around him. "Hey, I caught up with the bad guys and-"

"Brendan, you know better!" she chastised him. "Why would you run after dangerous men like that?!"

"Oh, well, because they punched dad in the face and stole my friends." he held up the bag as proof. "And I know every inch of this area, I knew I'd catch them before the cops could…"

"Still, you shouldn't be so reckless," Mom looped an arm around him with a sigh. "Let's get inside and get you cleaned up. The police took a witness report from your father, but they'll want your input as well. We'll have them call you in the morning. But first we'll have to get you cleaned up, your hair is full of mats again."

Brendan groaned, shoulders sagging as his mom ushered him through the door to his house. But his dread of his mother yanking at his hair with a comb was replaced with a sigh of relief. The smell of his mothers cooking still lingered in the air, a breeze from the outside flowing through the windows.

"It sure is good to be home."

o.0.o.0.o

May could tell that her mother wasn't at all happy with her. The air was tense and Mom had a sour expression on her face. May already knew that she was in for a lecture of sorts, so she just swallowed her complaints, ignored Mom, and went up take a shower.

Feeling clean and refreshed, May headed to her room. The moment the water turned off, Mom was ascending the stairs, as if just waiting to start.

"May, don't think you're just going to-"

"You know, Mom, I'm really tired after falling out of the back of a moving truck and wandering around an unfamiliar area with no directions to get home." May didn't acknowledge her mom hovering outside the bathroom, waiting for her to come out. "I'm going to bed. Good night."

"This conversation isn't over, May." her mom trailed behind her as May opened her door.

"Goodnight, mother." May insisted, shutting the door in her face and locking it. Stepping back, May's shoulders sagged as she sighed.

May felt a small breeze send chills down her neck. She could feel her eye twitch.

The window was wide open and even with the day turning to dusk, it was still hot. How was the air conditioning supposed to work if the window was wide open? Crossing the room in a few quick strides, she closed the window and latched it.

Sweat made her clothing cling to her body.

Glancing across the room, the red rays of the sunlight reflected off the clock in one of her boxes. Taking it out, she set the time and leaned the clock against her desk. None of her shelves or any hooks were set up yet, but at least most of her furniture was in place.

Slowly, she began to unpack her boxes in order to set up things that didn't require shelving.

"May, I can hear you shuffling around in there! Did anyone see you fall out of the truck?"

May ignored her mother, letting out a sigh. That's how Mom always was. Reputation was at the forefront of her mind, and everything else came after it. Maybe May could excuse it when she was a kid, considering Norman was in the running to become the Goldenrod Gym Leader, but now? In this crazy region where kids are running rampant and attacking people? What reputation was there to maintain?

What was even the point? It's not as if they had to fight for Dad's promotion here, nor were they the laughing stock of Goldenrod anymore. Mom didn't need to be his public relations manager or whatever, she had no reason to be so… so obsessively unhinged about reputation.

May pulled out another box, seeing it full of childhood mementos. As she opened it, the first thing she saw was a picture of her with her parents She was wearing a frilly, colorful dress, her mom was holding her hand and her father had a hand on her shoulder. Smiles stretched across their faces, big and beaming.

May bitterly closed the box and shoved it. It slid across the floor, stopping just at the foot of her bed. Getting up, she nudged it the rest of the way under with her foot. She remembered taking that picture. It was an interview to promote how great of a family man Dad was. Mom and Dad always recalled it fondly, but all May could remember was how tight the ribbon around her waist was, and how awkward it was for Dad to pretend he was involved in their lives outside of work. So awkward, in fact, that even when the questions were directed towards Dad, Mom answered most of the questions about the family and specifically May.

And even then, she got some of those wrong.

Was "unhinged" the right word for how her mother acted? Honestly, it was embarrassing, and this move here solidified her opinion of her parents; they only really saw her as a prop. Dad was never close to her to begin with, and Mom, enraged at her lack of caring about everything she hyperfocuses on, couldn't see eye to eye with her.

"May! Open the door, we need to talk."

May halted in her tracks, glaring at the door. She knew exactly why Mom wanted to talk to her. She probably wanted to know if anyone saw her fall out the truck, if May told anyone what happened with the flight "mix-ups" and the fact her parents didn't bother to come and get her. This was their fresh start, and there was… that glint, in Mom's eyes. A bitter glint of fear that there would judgement and persecution if everything wasn't perfect. That they would be a laughing stock.

If Mom was still obsessed with their reputation, May feared for her parents marriage.

Maybe that's why he ran away.

She had a bitter, humored smirk on her face as she opened the next box and saw nothing but books about battle, pokémon, pokeballs, all sorts of things useful things for being a pokémon trainer. All sorts of things she hated. Why deal with his wife and daughter when he could just work, work, work?

"… Maybe I should also run away from my responsibilities. Be more like my dad…" May slid the box aside under her bed, right next to the oh so precious "mementos", then dug through the next box, reaching her true target. "But the best way to do that, May, is to do absolutely nothing at all."

May held up her sketchbook. Plucking up a pencil, she settled on her bed. Going to a new page, her pencil stroked across the paper as she began to sketch. Slowly, a pokémon began to form, then the pokémon became a part of a scene.

If there was any good that came from pokémon and pokémon battles… They made for good art pieces. Good art pieces that she supposed she could sell, if she was motivated to do so.

May heard a pop, then a small cooing noise. Something tugged at her blanket. She blinked, glancing down and seeing Cyndaquil tugging at her blanket.

"Right," May set her sketchbook down, shoulders slumping. "Your bed. Sorry."

Standing up, she walked across the room to the box labeled "Cyndaquil stuff". Picking up the bed, she brought it by her nightstand and set it down. Then, she picked up Cyndaquil and placed him on the cushion.

As she went back to her bed, she heard footsteps behind her. May turned. Cyndaquil didn't stop, bumping into her ankle. May picked him back up, and placed him on the bed.

"You stay here." May said simply, settling him back down as he stood to follow her again. "You aren't sleeping on my bed."

May walked back to her bed. As she settled, she heard the little footsteps of Cyndaquil, and again felt tugging at her blanket.

"You're not sleeping on the bed, Cyndaquil." May went back to her drawing, pencil scratching across the paper. Eventually, the tugging stopped, but as May peeked over the edge of the bed, she saw Cyndaquil curled up on the wooden floor, right next to her bed. "… Suit yourself, then. It won't be my fault if I step on you in the morning."

As Cyndaquil began to snore, May stayed up late into the night, sketching pictures of the memories stuck in her head. Of an enthusiastic little fire nugget, of a bratty grass-type, of ferocious Mightyena, some still images for reference, some clashing in battle. And in the center of it all, was a wild jungle boy that almost seemed more pokémon than human.

o.0.o.0.o

Chapter two, done! I think I'm going to start doing a thing where I write in increments up until certain points or something.