Disclaimer: I don't own Pokémon, omg so tragic.
A/N *peeks out from under rock* Um, hi. Remember me?:3 Sorry it's been so long, guys. Wow, I haven't updated since before Pokémon X and Y were out! O.o Speaking of which, have any of you guys gotten a game? If so, what starter did you get? I downloaded Pokémon Y, and now a have a bew-ti-ful level eighty-something Greninja, w00t. Still haven't challenged the Elite Four, though.
Anyway, sorry again for the lateness. Life's been busy for me, and I've had no time to do anything with this fic. Also, my doctor told me I need to sleep more. Pfft. Silly doctor. Sleep is for kids! :D
I've also done some looking over of my previous chapters, and . . . good gosh. I hated what I saw, so I edited every single one of them. I like them a lot better now, though they're still not the greatest.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter. I like to think I've improved since last time, but I'll let you be the judge of that.
OoOoOoOoO
Chapter 9: No One is Perfect
The morning after the slowpoke incident was a quiet one—and apparently a very sleepy one as well, if you were to ask a certain fire-type, who was the only one in the room who was actually awake. Quilava snorted in disdain as she regarded her trainer, who was lying fast asleep under a pile of bed sheets, a tuft of dark hair being the only indication he was even there.
Quilava's teammate wasn't any more awake than Gold was; the normal-type was curled up on the corner of the bed, smiling blissfully in his sleep.
Well, that wouldn't last much longer, thought Quilava, as she carefully crept her way towards her unsuspecting victim. Ever so slowly, she put her snout just inches from Aipom's ear. She took a deep breath.
"WAKE UP!"
The response was spectacular. Aipom gave a shrill screech and jumped about three feet in the air, landing with a loud thump on the floor. "Ow. . . ." she heard Aipom mumble sleepily just a second later.
Quilava rolled her eyes, then made her way to the edge of the bed. She looked down at Aipom expectantly (not that she was expecting anything—it was just a cool look), and Aipom—now sitting in the middle of the floor—stared back confusedly, not seeming to know what was going on. "Uh . . . what's up?" he asked.
"Not you," Quilava quipped.
Aipom was apparently having a hard time processing information this morning, for it took a moment before he responded. "Oh, uh, yeah. I think I fell," Aipom said, looking at his surroundings. "I'm not sure how. . . ."
"Yeah, that's my fault, sorry," Quilava replied, feeling somewhat apologetic. "Anyway, we really need to be up and training. We're burning daylight here."
That seemed to bring Aipom to his full senses. He grinned widely, then hopped to his feet. "Oh, okay!" he said, all signs of tiredness gone. When he swiveled his head in Gold's direction, his smile slipped.
"Uh, is he coming . . . ?"
It took perhaps a half-second longer than normal for Quilava to make a response, which was a brief "Nope."
Aipom needn't seem to know how to respond to that, so he simply moved his gaze back to Quilava and stared at her dumbly.
Quilava flicked back her ears in mild annoyance. "You know what?" she said snappishly. "Never mind. You can stay and let Gold know that I've gone off for a while."
Quilava's dismissive tone was enough to give Aipom second thoughts. "W-wait!" he squeaked. "I'll go with you! But can't we just wait for Gold to wake up first? Or wake him up?"
The fire-type looked at him as though he had asked her what one plus one equaled. "First of all," she said slowly, as if talking to someone very young or very stupid, "I'm not going to wait for however long it'll take for Gold to wake up; that's wasting time. Second of all, humans aren't as tough as pokémon are, so they need more rest for their brains to function properly, or else they'll collapse." (That was actually complete bull on Quilava's part—she had no idea how humans' bodies worked—but she found that saying something intelligent-sounding and stating as a fact made for a convincing argument.)
Aipom eyes widened. "Really?" he asked. "I didn't know that!"
"Well, now you do," Quilava replied flatly, then quickly cut to the chase. "Anyway . . . do you happen to know how to open windows? That one," she said, jerking her head in the direction of the farthest wall, "leads right outside."
Aipom instead of replying, scampered over to the window and climbed the curtain. He looked at the window critically, then suddenly grinned. "Oh, this one's an easy one! You just have to kinda twist this thingamabob a little and then—ah ha!" he crowed in triumph as the lock was released. "Now all you have to do is lift at this handle right here," he said, proudly demonstrating. Quilava watched closely, feeling impressed (mildly, mind you) as the window slid easily open.
"Okay, good," she said, as Aipom beamed proudly. "Now let's go." Before she could try to climb through the opening, however, Aipom spoke up again.
"Wait! Shouldn't we leave a note or something? So he'll know where we went?"
"Oh . . . yeah," Quilava said rather lamely. "Well, I don't know how to write. Do you?"
Aipom nodded enthusiastically. "Yep!"
Quilava wondered when and how Aipom had learned how to read or write, but decided to save any questions for later. "Okay, then we just need a pen and paper." She glanced at the bedside table. "Maybe there some stuff up there we could use."
Aipom jumped on the table and quickly found what they were looking for. "Ah ha! There's a notepad and pencil right here. Ooh, the pencil's really sharp!"
"Wonderful. Now write something."
"Okay." Aipom flopped down on his stomach and grabbed the pencil with his tail. "All right, so . . . you're supposed to start a letter with 'Dear Whatever-That-Person's-Name-Is.'"
"So like 'Dear Gold'?"
"Yeah," Aipom said, nodding importantly. He carefully wrote out the first word, but paused at the second. Just how was 'Gold' spelled anyway? With a U or with an O? After a moment of careful thought, Aipom went with O. He studied what he had written so far.
DEAR GoLD
Perfect! Aipom smiled before turning to Quilava, who was now sitting at the foot of the bed, waiting (somewhat) patiently. "Well, that part's done. What do I write next?"
"Just say something about us going outside for a while, and that we'll be back soon." As Aipom began to write again, Quilava decided to ask him about his unusual skill. "So, where did you learn how to write?"
Aipom, apparently unable to concentrate on two tasks at once, stopped writing for a moment. "Well," he said, "I had this other trainer once, and he taught me."
Well, that explained a few things, Quilava thought. "I didn't know you had another trainer. What happened to him?" she asked, keeping her voice light.
"Um, well, he wanted a team that was really strong and stuff, and I wasn't that strong, and I wasn't very good at using all these moves that he taught me. So he was all like, 'Sorry Aipom, but I'm gonna have to let you go,' and then I was all like, 'Why?' and then he was all like, 'Because I need a strong pokémon,' and I was like 'Aren't I strong?' and he was like, 'Not really.'"
"Oh . . . well, I'm sorry to hear that."
"Yeah, me too." Aipom looked glum for a moment, but his face quickly brightened. "But it's all good now, because now that I'm with you and Gold, I'll get really strong!"
". . . I see," Quilava said, feeling uncomfortable, then quickly changed the subject. "Are you almost done with that?" She gestured in the direct of the notepad.
Aipom bit his lower lip, looking embarrassed. "Uh, maybe?" At Quilava's narrow-eyed look, he quickly turned back to the note and started to write again. After a few minutes of careful writing on Aipom's part and careful supervision on Quilava's, the message was finished. Aipom proudly flashed the note. It read:
DEAR GoLD
wE wiLL BE owTsiDE FoR A wiLE Too TRANE. WE wiLL BE BAcK iN A wiLE. DoNTE wERREE AbowT us. wE luv You BYE.
AiPoM AND QuiLovuh.
Though she didn't know what the note said, Quilava decided it looked all right. She nodded in approval. "Looks good to me," she said, and Aipom beamed. "Now let's go."
OoOoOoOoO
Ilex Forest was a place of many moods.
During the day, it held a certain interesting mix of tranquility and activity, with the constant sound of chirping birds and leaves rustling in the wind, the woodsy, humid scent in the air, and the speckles of sunlight dancing on the forest floor. This was when the bug pokémon were the most active, and could be heard flitting and buzzing about.
Dusk was a more reposeful time, where many of the forest's inhabitants settled down just as the sun did, and the quieter ones began to emerge from their hiding places. Fire flies took to the air and turned their lighted tails on and off, flashing in and out of sight.
Nights in the forest were almost impossibly dark and oppressive. While people along the outer rims might hope to navigate by starlight, those engulfed in the pitch black of the deeper regions would have little chance of finding their way. This was also when humans' imaginations—like the nocturnal creatures lurking about—were at their most active. A snapping twig was not caused by an oddish taking a nighttime stroll, but a fierce beast ready to rip you and your friends to pieces. Rustling in the treetops was not made by a harmless breeze, but by a dark spirit looking to steal your soul away.
Mornings in Ilex Forest, some would say, were the best times. The grass was covered in a light dusting of dew, which sparkled like diamonds when the light hit it. The air, having yet to shake of the night's chill, was crisp and clear, carrying the light scent of rain and leaves. Sunbeams filtered through the trees and onto the ground, creating alluring patterns on the ground.
Mornings like these were enough to make even like Silver want to sit back, relax, and take in the sights. Which was what Silver was doing . . . sort of. He was indeed sitting and somewhat relaxing, but his gaze went intermittently from the forest to the objects in his hands.
Said objects were a number of old photos, all depicting scenes of his life from long ago, when he was just a kid. When life was better.
He studied each of the pictures in turn, trying to conjure up memories of when each one was taken. One photo showed Silver at the age of four, spinning around in an empty room, smiling in delight. That had been when he and his mom had just moved from their dinky old apartment to a bona fide house, which, though still very small, had seemed like a castle to Silver at the time. He remembered stopping his spinning for a moment to ask his mom, who had been the one holding the camera, if they were rich now. His mom had cast her eyes around the room, taking in the frayed carpet, cracked windows, and dingy walls. Then she'd looked back at Silver, who was still grinning, and smiled back. Yes, she had said, voice full of conviction. We are very rich.
Another was of both him and his mother, sitting together on a wooden bench as several small ducks nibbled at the sparse grass at their feet. It was early spring, and they were both outdoors, celebrating his mom's twenty-fourth birthday by visiting the local duck pond and tossing bread crumbs to its feathered inhabitants—their version of a party. Someone else had been passing them by at some point before five-year-old Silver had boldly run up to her and asked if she could take a picture of him and his mom. The lady had been happy to oblige, waving off his mother's embarrassed apologies as she took the shot.
It seemed strange to Silver how friendly he used to be. It was like he'd been an entirely different person. He supposed that was true, in a way.
There were other photos in the little stack, some of him and friends (damn, he used to have friends), and others of simple outdoor scenes. These ones them didn't feel nearly as important to him, and the only real reason he still kept them was the knowledge of who had taken them.
As Silver carefully put the photos in his backpack, he thought about what he would do today. He'd defeated Bugsy yesterday, so his quest for the badge in this town was done. He could move on to the next town right away if he wished, but something about this forest made him want to stay a little bit longer. It was nice to slow down a bit and admire the scenery—not that he would ever say that out loud. So instead of packing up and moving on, he grabbed his pokéballs and released his team of three. A croconaw, gastly, and zubat materialized before him and looked to him for directions—just as he had trained them to do.
Silver leveled a scowl at them. "You three. Split up and go train. Come back here in . . ." he looked at his watch, "an hour." The pokémon left without question, leaving Silver alone. Not that he minded being alone. He enjoyed it, in fact.
Or at least that's what he told himself.
OoOoOoOoO
Quilava raced through the forest at top speed, jumping over rocks and brush and dodging between trees as she sped along the not-path she had chosen, ignoring the constricted feeling in her chest. She didn't know how long she'd been doing this for, but it surely wasn't long enough. Her stamina ought to be better than this, she was sure of it. But this was why she had come out here in the first place—to get better. Her run-ins with the Rocket group had shown her that she had massive amounts of improving to do. Last night's fiasco almost resulted in getting them killed, and she didn't intend to stay as useless as she had been last night. She was supposed to be the strongest member of the team. She should have been able to take the Rockets down with ease. But she hadn't.
Quilava growled under her breath as she tried to go faster. That's why she had come out here alone; she didn't need Gold to see her struggle. She wanted her trainer to see her as a worthy team member, not some weak pokémon that barely scraped through battles.
A sudden rustling sound came from her right, and before she had time to dodge, she felt some large and heavy smash into her side, sending her rolling. She was back on her feet in an instant, berating herself for not reacting soon enough. She let out a harsh growl before pouncing at whatever had attacked her.
What followed was what could only be described as a brawl, as each pokémon clawed and bit at each other, trying to bruise, to draw blood, to do any sort of harm they could. As the intruder took another swipe at her with its claws, Quilava sent out a flurry of swifts at it, forcing it to back up. And that's when she recognized him and stopped in her tracks.
"Croconaw?"
The pokémon in question paused and stared at her for a moment, as though he could not quite believe his eyes. "Quilava? What are you doing here?"
"I could ask you the same question," she replied. Her voice was curt, but the urge to attack him was gone.
"I was sent out here by Silver. You remember him, right?"
"Yeah. Him." They both stood there facing each other, wondering what to do next. It was Croconaw who spoke up first.
"Uh, so, you wanna go for a walk with me? You know, to catch up on things."
Quilava narrowed her eyes. She was about to question if this was a trap, but she stopped herself. Croconaw's trainer wouldn't be able to catch her, if that was the plan; she already had an assigned pokéball, and wouldn't be able to get caught with another. So instead of refusing, she replied with a simple "Sure."
And so they found a nearby path and strolled for a while, telling each other about their journeys. Croconaw had acquired two teammates so far, and they all got along pretty well during what little time they spent interacting with one another (this Silver character apparently wasn't one to let them out of their pokéballs very often). Croconaw also told her about his experiences with the two gyms he had been in, letting her know that the Azalea gym was harder than the one in Violet. "I got poisoned," he said. "And Scyther's so fast, it's insane. She's one of the Bugsy's Pokémon," he explained unnecessarily. "The only reason I managed to win was because Gastly had laid a curse on her before he fainted. Even then, it was a close win."
"Guess I'll have to watch out for that, then," Quilava said. "Anyway, you haven't told me much about this Silver guy. What's he like?"
Croconaw hesistated. "Well, he's a good trainer," he said, looking like he wasn't sure he wanted to go on.
"But?" Quilava prompted.
Croconaw sighed. "He's . . . pretty hard on us, to be honest," he said, keeping his eyes fixed on the ground. "It's like, no matter what we do, he's never satisfied. He keeps pushing us to work harder, which is good, I guess, but he always acts like we're not trying hard enough. He suddenly stopped and turned to her. "But I am trying!" he said his voice rising in volume. "I try to be strong for him, but it's never enough! I follow every order, I train for hours with complaining once, and I fight until I'm half-dead, but it's never enough!"
He was pacing back and forth in front of her now, looking distressed. "What does he expect me to do? Does he expect me to be able to smash through buildings? Or topple down trees? Take down Team Rocket all by myself? What does he want from me?" He looked at her imploringly, as though she could possibly help him. The hurt in his eyes was hard to bear, and made even harder by the fact that there wasn't anything she could do to help him. She was useless—again. Unless . . .
"There's nothing you can do to please him." When Croconaw looked crestfallen, she continued. "So leave him. Come with us."
Croconaw stared at her blankly. "Wait, what?"
She stared back. "Did I mumble?"
Croconaw, for the first time, glared at her. "Very funny."
Quilava didn't grace that comment with a response. "Well, how about it? Gold would be happy to take you in, you know that. You'll never have to see that other guy again. It's a win-win situation."
Instead of looking happy and excited like Quilava had expected, Croconaw looked pained. "I . . . don't get me wrong, Quilava, I want to go with you. But I can't."
"Why not?" Quilava demanded. "What's stopping you?"
"It's hard to explain."
"Well, tough. Explain."
"You wouldn't understand."
"Try me."
Croconaw growled. "All right, look! It's now easy being part of Silver's team, but I can't just leave him." When Quilava drew in a breath to say something snarky, he held his hands in front of her. "Just hear me out. I know Silver's not the greatest person in the world, okay? I know that. But he's not all bad. He's just . . . unhappy all the time. I don't know why he is, but he is. Maybe I can help him."
When Quilava responded, her voice was harsh. "Fine. Stay with him. See if I care."
Croconaw lost his patience. "Hey, do you think this is easy for me?" His voice was loud again. "Do you think I like being with this guy?" he demanded, snarling fiercely. "Well, it's not easy, and I don't like being with him, but guess what? That's life! I'm not going to abandon him! I get it, okay? My life kinda sucks right now. Everything sucks right now. But I'm not leaving him. I can't."
There was a long stretch of silence. Croconaw refused to look Quilava in the eye.
Finally, Quilava let out a sigh. "Okay, I get it. I might not like it, but I get it. I just hope you know what you're getting into. And I still think my idea's better."
Croconaw smiled slightly. "What, you doubt me? What ever happened to the shy little cyndaquil who believed in everyone but herself?"
"She's gone now. She couldn't survive in the real world." She looked grim. "What about you? What happened to the totodile who thought life was fun and the world was good?"
His smile fell. "I guess he's gone, too."
They were both silent for a while, each lost in their own thoughts. Once again, it was Croconaw who broke the silence. "I'd better be heading back. I'll see you around . . . maybe." He started to walk away, but paused when Quilava called out to him.
"Hey, Croconaw!"
He turned around. "Yeah?"
". . . Good luck."
OoOoOoOoO
Gold stood in front of the Azalea City Gym, inspecting it carefully. On the outside, it shared a very similar design to the one in Violet City, though it was quite a bit shorter in height and larger in area. He wondered what it would look like on the inside.
Ready, guys? he asked. Quilava and Aipom, who were both standing at his feet, nodded meekly. After their little escapade, they had made it back to the pokémon center without a hitch, with Aipom promptly crumpling up and throwing away the note they'd left. That had been a few minutes before Gold had woken up, but they both had a feeling he had a general idea of what had happened. He had risen from bed, looked at the window that Aipom had left open what the heck, and turned to them with a raised eyebrow. Quilava had claimed that they'd just wanted some fresh air (hoping he would assume they hadn't actually gone out), and Gold hadn't asked for details. He had, however, given them a deadpan look that told them he wasn't fooled, and then told them for future reference to not go outside without him. So Quilava and Aipom had decided to be extra good for a while, because they were very good trainees, oh yes.
So here they were, a few days after the incident, patiently waiting for their trainer to lead them in. Gold finally strolled in after a good five minutes of just standing there (he was doing that just to be annoying, Quilava was sure).
As it turned out, the inside of this gym was vastly different from the previous one. Instead of high rafters and safety nets, there were live trees planted throughout the area, making it hard to see very far into the gym. The trees themselves were inhabited with various bug-type pokémon. Many of these pokémon paused in their creepy-crawling activities to stare at the newcomers in curiosity.
Gold, to your right, Quilava said, giving his leg a nudge.
Gold looked in the direction he was told to find a gym assistant beckoning him forward. The man greeted him jovially upon his approach, then proceeded to tell him about the gym. From what he could gather, Gold was apparently supposed to find his way through the makeshift forest to get to Bugsy. If he stayed on the designated path, he would run into gym trainers along the way. Avoiding the path, and thus potentially avoiding other trainers, was also allowed, but that would make it easier to get lost. The assistant also mentioned something about bug-types or something, and several things Gold believed pertained to the gym leader, but he couldn't understand most of it. He hoped it wasn't important, because he wasn't about to ask the man to go over it again. Gold simply nodded to let the assistant know he understood, then walked to the edge of the indoor forest.
After a moment's deliberation, he decided to stick to the path. He'd get to Bugsy more quickly that way, he hoped, and wouldn't have to worry about running into poison ivy or whatever else they might have planted around the place.
The trainers they battle along the way were easy, for the most part. Quilava blasted her opponents away with ease, but Aipom had a harder time. Gold kept ordering him to use ice punch (Gold wondered he he'd learned it), which Aipom was terrible at. He was pitted against caterpie and metapod and the like, so they were easy to hit, but his punches were weak, which made any decently armored opponent hard to take down. But they all made it to the middle of the gym—or was it the back?—in one piece, so Gold's spirits were decently high. He was smiling slightly as he returned the two pokémon before stepping out into the clearing.
The gym leader was something of a surprise. Gold knew enough about him to know Bugsy was the youngest gym leader in Johto (was he eleven?), but he looked even tinier and more out-of-place than Gold had expected.
Bugsy immediately spotted him as he came forward. He smiled and enthusiastically waved at him.
"Hi!" he said, still grinning broadly. "Are you here for a gym battle? Oh, wait, I guess that's sort of a pointless question, right?" He rubbed the back of his neck, looking awkward. "I'm, uh, kinda new to this whole gym leader thing, in case you couldn't tell."
Gold gave him what he hoped was a sympathetic smile, and stood there awkwardly for a moment, mentally prompting Bugsy to say something. Fortunately, he did.
"Uh, so, how many badges do you have?" he asked, and Gold held up his index finger in response. Bugsy nodded and pulled out a pokéball from his pocket. "Okay then, whenever you're ready."
The first two-thirds of the battle were very anticlimactic. Gold pitted Aipom against Bugsy's metapod, and the resulting spat consisted of little more than Aipom using swift over and over again, and the metapod trying and failing to land a tackle. Aipom won that round, but quickly fell to Bugsy's next pokémon—a kakuna—and its poison sting. Quilava easily took out the kakuna, which left the gym leader with one last pokémon.
Gold watched silently as a scyther materialized in front of them. It stared at them for a moment, neither moving nor speaking. After a moment, it spoke up. Hi, she. I am Scyther. I like to battle. I also like to win. I win a lot. I can beat you. I am very fast. You will see.
Without warning, Scyther shot towards Quilava as though she had been fired out of a cannon. She slammed hard into Quilava, sending her skidding backwards several yards. The bug-type allowed her no time to recover before she was on her again, slashing furiously at her.
Ember! Gold called out. Quilava was quick to oblige, but Scyther was just as quick to jump away. Gold called out to Quilava continue the attack, forcing Scyther to keep moving away. After a few minutes of this game, Scyther threw caution into the winds and charged straight through the barrage of embers, slamming full force into Quilava again and burning herself badly in the process. Gold ordered a flame wheel before Scyther could attack again, and another after she dodged the first one. The second one hit the bug-type squarely in the chest, knocking her to the ground with Quilava on top of her. Scyther slashed wildly at Quilava, who scurried away. Scyther didn't follow her. Instead, she observed the fire-type solemnly as she made her way to the opposite end of the clearing and turned back around. For several long seconds, the two pokémon simply stared unblinkingly at one another. Scyther spoke up again.
. . . You win.
With that, she collapsed, and the battle was over.
Bugsy gave a lopsided smile as he returned his fainted pokémon, while Gold withdrew the winded Quilava. The two trainers walked toward each other, meeting halfway across the battle field. Gold shook Bugsy's hand, and was surprised by his strong grip. Bugsy smiled at him.
"That was a good battle," he said. "I—oh no!" Bugsy's eyes widened, and Gold looked at him quizzically. "I, uh, forgot to get someone to referee for us." Bugsy looked imploringly at Gold. "Don't tell anyone, okay?" he pleaded.
Gold nodded in response, trying hard to keep a straight face. Bugsy looked at him a little oddly.
"Um, hey, are you mute or deaf or something? Or is this just some kind of battle strategy that I don't know about but probably should?"
Gold felt the side of his mouth twitch upward slightly as he typed out an explanation on his Pokégear. He presented it to Bugsy, who quickly skimmed over the message.
"Oh, cool!" was his somewhat unexpected response. "My grandpa's deaf, too, by the way, only that's just because he's old." He blushed when Gold laughed. "I . . . probably could have worded that better," he admitted, grinning sheepishly. "Anyway, here's your prize money and badge," he said, handing him a neat stack of money, then giving Gold the badge after he had stuffed the cash in his pocket.
Gold admired the badge for a moment before looking back at Bugsy and signing 'Thank you.'
"You're welcome," Bugsy replied, assuming correctly what Gold had said. "And good luck on the rest of your gym battles!"
OoOoOoOoO
It was a week after his time in the forest that Silver decided it was time to move on. His pokémon were strong enough to easily get through Ilex Forest, he thought, and he was getting tired of this town, anyway.
He was at the edge of the forest, ready to start his trek, when a sudden thought struck. He smacked his forehead in frustration. "Damn, forgot to get more antidotes," he muttered to himself. He turned swiftly around, storming back towards the outskirts of town.
In hindsight, he probably should have been looking where he was going instead of glaring at the ground as though it had said something rude to him. He felt himself smack roughly into someone, and he stumbled back, cursing under his breath as he barely stopped himself from falling. He was suddenly reminded of his first run-in with that Gold character, and scowled inwardly at the memory. The he looked up.
Well, speak of the devil.
OoOoOoOoO
A/N Cliffhanger, yay. :D Anyway, I really hope you liked the chapter. If you have time, please feel free to review. Even if all you have to say is "This is cool," or "This sucks," that's totally cool. :D Also, random note, but I really liked writing Scyther, haha. Did you like Scyther? Or Bugsy? Or anything in this story? O_o
One more thing. You may have noticed that in the most recent chapters (recent, ha), I put a sort of 'Q and A' section in the author's notes at the end. I'm wondering if I should keep doing that, or I should stop because you're getting tired of it. Let me know in the review section below!
Have an awesome day!
Geek