"Raised to an Art Form"
Chapter 3: Concerning Pokemon
Well, a Zeke-only chapter, for now. And I'm back on this story!
I was motivated...and yet, at the same time annoyed, by the new series of Pokemon games, since I recently bought Black. Well, I'm not sure 'annoyed' is the right word, exactly, but it is sort of creepy to see Team Plasma come up, completely coincidentally around 2010 and 2011, while I've been writing this fanfic centred around an identical theme. Huh. I have finished the game, mind you, so I know all of Team Plasma, though I'm not going to post spoilers here.
Still, nice to see some genuine plot in the Pokemon series. ^^
Well, once again-thank you to all whom reviewed. In this case, the anonymous fractalman who reviewed chapter 2. Please get an account, so I can respond to your reviews, by the way, if only to thank you more directly for your time and encouragement.
By the way, (!) at the end of a sentence denotes sarcasm. And in case it isn't immediately obvious, any writing that is both in italics exclusively, and also between hyphens ("-") are flashbacks to previous chapters, and flashbacks to an event that has not yet been described are, as a rule, simply italics without the hyphens.
Not that it's really important, just some people may want to know in case it isn't immediately obvious. ^^'
...
"-I'm driving towards your school now, son. Which street are you waiting at?" The voice of Zeke's father was clear through the PokeGear call.
"Look, I-I'm fine, I promise dad, just a little shaken, you don't have to come so quickly-" Zeke tried to lie, mentally kicking himself for the slight tremble of his lips on the 'I'; he knew his father would be able to pick it up, easily.
"Nonsense, I'll be there within the next ten minutes, where are you?"
Zeke turned his head away from his PokeGear, sighing at his father's insistence. His dad must be borrowing his work vehicle, probably without permission, again...they certainly wouldn't spend the exorbitant prices of a car, not in a city like Azalea. Finally, defeated, he brought the 'gear back to his mouth.
"Kakuna Road, dad..."
"Got it, I'm coming now, are you sure you're okay?" Zeke's father asked. Zeke, once more, had to turn the 'gear away to sigh. It was the third time his father had asked.
"Yes, I told you before. I'm just slightly shaken. I'll be fine, and later on we can get back my stuff, there's no rush." Zeke grumbled, doing his best to ignore his still-hammering heart, "I'll see you then, I guess. See ya dad." Zeke finished, instantly hitting the 'disconnect call' button on his PokeGear as he sat on the edge of the road, leaning his forehead down to rest on his knees.
'I'm not going there again... Thanks though, father.' Zeke thought to himself, glad that the houses on the street all appeared to have shut curtains rather than people at windows wondering why the random boy was sitting in the street.
But he was there for a surprisingly short time. A car-Zeke never knew anything about car models-rounded a corner into the road at what Zeke's PokeGear confirmed to be 4:57pm. Pulling to a stop not far from Zeke, the teen stood up-recognizing the vehicle and driver-and got into the passenger seat, closing the door behind him. It was a slightly strange experience, getting into a car without his school bag with him. He looked down for several seconds, before finally forcing himself to raise his head to look at his silent father when the car wasn't started. His dad was waiting.
Looking at his father-Keith Connor-, Zeke always unconsciously noticed the features they shared-after all, they were remarked on by others so often. The same unruly black hair, though Zeke always let his grow more than his father's. They shared, also, the same surprisingly dark green eyes. Today, the eyes were filled with the concern that Zeke had been hearing through his PokeGear for some time.
"What?" Zeke finally asked, breaking the silence rudely. His father gave him a playful smirk.
"Just making sure you haven't been shocked speechless at the utter tragedy of losing your school items." The adult joked. Though probably in bad taste, and at a wrong time for anyone else, it brought a smile equal parts humoured and contemptuous to Zeke's face.
"Yeah, my heart bleeds at the pain of it all. Why, how would I be able to work hard without them?" Zeke returned sardonically, causing his father to chuckle before the car awoke in the sound of the engine restarting.
"Hah, good to know you still have that slice of my wit."
"That slice? Dad, everyone knows you've been losing your 'famous' wit for years."
"That so? Regardless, it was once famous; I have yet to see your's reach that."
"Pfft. You're hopeless."
"What, that's all you got?"
"You're also old."
"Oh. Ouch. That sure hurts(!) It's still better than being a teenager. Why, this is the first time in years you've communicated through something other than grunts."
"Hah! This is the first time in years you haven't been needing glasses. Oh, right, contact lens."
They continued the good natured quarrelling between each other, swapping light, harmless insults. It was a pastime shared between father and son. The short drive took no time at all, it seemed, and Zeke's mind was averted from his previous shock almost completely, as was his father's intention. Finally the car pulled up out the front of their home; 61 Oak Road, Azalea City .Both father and son almost simultaneously opening and closing their respective doors, Keith locking the car remotely as they walk up the path towards the small, primarily brick, house. Opening the door to greet them both was the woman of the household. Mrs Trish Connor was taller than both her husband and son, strangely, standing well over 6 feet in height, and wearing a dress designed for practicality over fashion. They weren't a poor family, per se, but then nor were they rich by any measure. At her side, panting happily, was a Houndour by the name of Richard.
Richard had been in the family for some 23 years, older than Zeke by far. Most Pokemon, especially those that don't battle often, tend to live for long times, though a majority wouldn't stand up to a human's lifespan. Saved as a puppy from an uncaring owner, he was loved-and treated-as well as anyone else in the household. Despite his age, he still seemed young and active, though thankfully long past the incident twenty years ago-before Zeke was born-where he started a small fire in the living room.
With a bark of 'Dour!', Richard ran to the arrivals, going to nuzzle along Zeke's side comfortingly. Zeke petted his head, grimacing as he realized that the entire household must know what happened. So much for telling dad he was fine.
Frowning, Zeke was put back in mind of three years ago, when he was thirteen and was reduced to tears at the sight of Pokemon battles...
- Before Zeke said a word, she asked the question they both knew the answer to.
"...They're at it again, aren't they?"
A large burst of flame, visible through the window next to the front door, confirmed her suspicions, sadness brewing in her own face as she moved over to her son, who was now hiding his face into the warm coat of the Houndour, holding an arm around him sympathetically. They remained there for some time, without movement or noise, before Zeke spoke up, his voice shaking as he held back tears.
"How can they do that? H-how can they do this? How c-c-can no-one see? How did the world end up like this, THIS? H-h-h-" Zeke made out, his voice raising in sound and emotion as sobs welled up at his own questions before he was cut out as his mother lifted his upper body from the Houndour, embracing him calmingly.-
Zeke was struck from his thoughts at the sound of his mother's voice directed at his father.
"Honey, I already explained it to Richard, and he wants to go with you when you pick up Zeke's stuff, in case the Scyther's still there. You were right, the police would want to capture it, so we can't call them." Zeke's mum mentioned, clearly continuing from a previous conversation, "You might as well go now, on the way to dropping the car back off at work. You two can catch the bus home, right?"
"Of course," Keith nodded in agreement, "We'll probably be back within the next hour. I'll call you on the PokeGear if something comes up. Zeke, is there anything we need to know about where your stuff should be, or would it all be in the bag you threw away at the entrance path?" His father asked him, not unkindly. Zeke nodded to his dad's final statement, as the Houndour left his side to follow his father back to the car, easily bounding into the passenger seat when Keith opened the door for him. Richard's bark of 'Houndour' marked his thanks.
Zeke and his mother waved the other two goodbye before she spoke.
"Zeke, there isn't anything you want to talk about?" Trish asked, worried. Zeke just shook his head, silent, sidling past his mother to move inside his house.
As Zeke walked down the hallway to his room, he heard his mother call out after him.
"Just tell me if there's anything you want, okay?"
He pulled his bedroom door shut behind him, not responding, the closed door effectively blocking out his mother's words as she left him to his private domain. Finally in his bedroom, he sat on his bed, pulled his knees up to his chest, and cried.
It was the first chance he's had to get it out of his system, since he was almost killed by a Scyther. The thought still made him dizzy, still made him sob harder, yet still muffling every sound he made with his own knees. Thank Arceus he didn't tell his parents how bad it really was back there, he really didn't want to be given a talk by them right now.
...
Keith looked around at the sight in front of him. Branches of all thicknesses and heights had been sliced clean through, even the trunks of some trees having worrying deep scratches. In the middle of the entrance to the path, at the seeming end of the Scyther's rampage, was Zeke's schoolbag, cut almost completely through with what must have been a bladed arm. If it was actively cut, that means that it must have been cut out of the air, the Scyther wouldn't hack at things on the ground already...Zeke must have been hiding how close the Scyther must have been to him.
'Arceus...at the sight of all the damage done by one Pokemon, I'm amazed Zeke took it so well...' Keith thought, looking around. The now-useless bag torn, much of its contents had spilled around the place. Severely damaged textbooks, stationary, two novels that Zeke was reading, though they seemed to have held up better...
Richard was growling, pawing at one particular item, though. A pokeball, though covered in protest writing. Keith swallowed, a thought coming into his head...
The Scyther tore its way through wood and foliage, bloodlust reaching frenzied levels. With reflexes beyond that of a human, it sliced through the obstruction thrown at it as it bounded ever closer to its target. Cleaving cloth and plastic with ease, it had no chance to continue the pursuit as from the bag it had ripped flew a single device, the Scyther unintentionally still running towards it. The Pokeball opened, converting the Pokemon to data and signals within seconds, falling to the ground, rocking madly as the Pokemon tried to escape from its newfound prison...
Keith's mouth went dry as he picked up another nearby device that had been spilled, Zeke's School-Issue Pokedex. For Zeke to get his hands on a pokeball in the first place, he would have had to synchronize it with the PokeDex. Opening the PokeDex that was clearly had yet to be used for any length of time, Keith was greeted with a screen showing an image of a Scyther.
"Caught Pokemon Detected. International Pokedex number #123; Scyther, the Mantis Pokemon. This Pokemon is a Threatened species, and mistreatment of this Pokemon is punishable under the 'Third Endangered Pokemon Protection Act'. Scyther are intelligent with most able to understand most Human Languages to some level, they are known for their agility and are able to move at such speeds as to create the illusion of there being more than one. Caution should be used with this Pokemon; its bladed forearms have been known to cut through logs with speed. More information about this Pokemon, its habits and its required food can be found at your closest Pokemon Center."
Keith sighed, closing the PokeDex.
'Well that's complicated things.'
...
"But I haven't registered to a PC, how am I supposed to release it?" Zeke exclaimed, horrified, after he had heard the news. He knew that once a Pokemon was 'caught' or otherwise introduced into a Pokeball, the connection between capsule and Pokemon was permanent. Other people could not catch a Pokemon with such a connection, a Pokemon will usually be able to instinctively find the Pokeball they are 'linked' to just as the owner of a Pokeball can search for the owned Pokemon.
True, some trainers were known to simply send out a Pokemon and then destroy the Pokeball, thus theoretically severing the link, but it isn't a recommended method, and at times may damage the Pokemon depending on the circumstances.
"It won't take long to register you. Most people your age have already, with the paperwork and all it should only be a couple of days at the most." Zeke's mother comforted him. The offending pokeball sat on the kitchen bench, out of view, "And no harm will come to Scyther while it's there, nor is any real notable energy expended within, so it won't grow hungry...Just a couple of days, is that alright, son?"
Zeke sighed, openly now-not caring if his parents saw.
"Yeah, sure...Excuse me, I need to rest." Zeke stated forwardly, storming off to his room. His parents grimaced, watching him go.
"Poor Zeke." Trish sighed, "Good thing Friday. Tell him he doesn't have to go to school on Monday if he doesn't want, please, sweetheart?"
Keith nodded, moving down the hallway and knocking on the now-shut door to Zeke's room.
"Zeke? Your mother's can call in sick for you, if you don't want to go to school for a bit after the weekend. If you want to take a couple of days off, we understand."
Zeke's family had an understanding. Zeke was both willing and able, even without supervision, to learn and study his own textbooks. Regardless of what he did in class, his grades were excellent in a few topics, though those that related to battling, studies and philosophies in Pokemon he almost intentionally failed. Not that either of his parents could fault him for that; both had the fortune to go to schools specifically for those who largely stood against the culture of Pokemon use, pacifists and protestors. Unfortunately, none of those existed in Azalea, and Zeke had no interest to move, so he simply taught himself what he cared to learn, and did surprisingly well by doing so.
"Thanks, dad. Thank mum for me too, please. I'd like that." Zeke called out through the closed door, genuine appreciation in his voice-a rare thing from him. Keith smiled past the barrier of the door.
"Well, we've got a stir-fry for dinner in about an hour. Should we call you when it's ready? Do you want anything else?" Keith called again, glad when Zeke finally opened the door from the other side so he could look at his son-the same height as him at 5'8".
"Nah, I'll be back by then. I'm going for another walk to clear my head. It's just along to the Slowpoke Well and back. There won't be any surprises on that route." Zeke said, an edge of a smile on his face. His father frowned. It wasn't unusual for that; Zeke liked the Slowpoke Well for all of the wandering Pokemon there...as long as there weren't people trying to catch them. And besides...
"After what just happened, I'm surprised you're not tired of walks already. Well, take Richard with you, please, it will make your mother and I feel better." Keith put on the condition. Zeke looked like he was going to argue for a second, but instead shrugged.
"Alright, then. I'm a bit hungry now, so I'll take a couple of berries with me." Zeke grumbled, walking into the kitchen as his father shook his head, turning around to look for Richard. Zeke's mother wasn't anywhere to be seen, though her voice could be heard from her room talking on the phone to arrange for a PC registration.
It was because of all that that Zeke found the Kitchen empty and silent, save for the hum of a rice-cooker, clearly in preparation for dinner later. Looking behind him, checking that his father couldn't see, he swiped the pokeball marked with ink off the kitchen bench, his protest pokeball. Clicking an imperceptible panel on it, it instantly shrunk to the size of a golf ball, metallic materials fading into an electrical data form-much like how the Pokemon inside was-in order to allow such shrinkage. Hiding the pokeball in a pocket, he grabbed a small box from the fridge. Inside it was a mixture of Oran, Aspear, Pecha and Sitrus Berries, melted, blended then frozen. With a few added ingredients, the combination turned into a home-made ointment of sorts, a powerful healing mixture. It is also both safe and delicious to eat, but such would be a bad idea, considering the relatively small quantity and the great expense of the ingredients, considering how rare Sitrus berries are, and to a lesser extent Aspear berries too.
Good thing he didn't intend on eating it.
Thanks to the small size of the container-comparable to a Pokedex-Zeke easily slipped it into his other pocket before slipping his way quietly outside, closing the front door quietly behind him. Surprisingly, he managed to get to the end of the street before the inevitable happened.
"Houndour!"
A bark from behind him, the pattering of paws, and Richard had caught up to Zeke, who didn't break his stride as the Houndour slowed down, walking beside him and looking at the teenager with an expression that could only be described as disapproval, snorting his feelings with an exhalation of what was more smoke than breath.
"Hound, hound-houn, dourrrr, houndour-dour." The Pokemon scolded Zeke for running off without waiting for him, until finally Zeke sighed. No person could make him feel guilty but a Pokemon.
"Okay, okay. I'm sorry, Rich. Guess I was just impatient, huh?" Zeke apologized, lying about his reasons to leave, still not looking at the Pokemon. Zeke suddenly had to, though, when Richard skipped in front of him, standing in Zeke's path and glaring up at the teenager.
"Hound!", the dog-like Pokemon demanded. Zeke swallowed, suddenly remembering that Richard could always tell when he lied. Zeke had spent more time with him than anyone else, after all. Zeke bit his lip in hesitation...Richard may stop him, he had stopped Zeke from doing things before.
-Zeke barely got a glimpse of the Pokemon, an image burned into his head of vicious claws, crazed eyes and streaks of red blood travelling down a green body, before his senses recovered, he span around, and ran as fast as his legs would carry him back down the path he came through...-
"Look, I...I brought the Scyther along." Zeke stuttered, confessing to the Houndour there in the street, "When it attacked...I...I remember. I remember seeing red blood on the Scyther, but none on its claws, I think. It's a bit of a blur, but...I think it was hurt." Zeke admitted, hoping Richard would understand. It didn't look like it, with the look the older Houndour gave him.
"Yes, I know Pokemon don't feel pain inside their pokeballs, but I don't trust the Pokemon Center. They could legally take the Scyther away if they learnt it attacked a human, and I can't just release it later while it's wounded, can I? Besides, I don't think we should be keeping it inside a pokeball when we don't know if it wants...it must have calmed down, after all, it won't attack me. Even if it does, I can return it. Please understand, Rich...don't you want to help it too? It's probably hurt and scared..." Zeke practically begged. Only for a Pokemon would Zeke ever go through such trouble to help, only a Pokemon would Zeke forgive so easily and quickly. Only for a Pokemon would Zeke so hope to see the Houndour in front of him nod.
Grumbling, the Houndour snapped at the air with his jaws, clearly unhappy with the situation, before nodding hesitantly. Richard yelped his protest moments later, though, when Zeke suddenly leant down to squeeze him in a tight hug.
"Thank you! I knew you'd understand. I'm glad you're with me, honestly...now come on, Slowpoke Well should be empty of humans by now, and it's not a long walk. It'll be a perfect place." Zeke grinned, his normally sullen face transformed at the gesture, suddenly turning to run off down the street, with the Houndour following alongside the abruptly energetic boy.
...
Zeke looked around the clearing. Besides the steep, cliff-like decline to Slowpoke Well with stairs carved into its edges, the land around was more or less featureless, the grass slowly wafting in the afternoon breeze, tinted orange to reflect the colour of the sky above at this time of day. Most importantly, there was no-one around. Zeke frowned as he retrieved the pokeball from his pocket, and drew out a handkerchief as well, spitting on it and using it to try to wipe off the protest markings on the Pokeball. It seemed wrong, now, to protest against enslaving Pokemon in such devices when he just had essentially done so... As he cleaned off the ink with relative ease, he hit a panel so the pokeball returned to its normal size. Suddenly less sure of himself than he was before, Zeke turned to Richard for comfort.
"Okay, I think I'm ready...Um...I'll try to talk to him, or her, whichever it is." Zeke said nervously. The Houndour just looked at him in annoyance, something akin to 'get on with it, I'll be here if things go wrong' written on his face. Zeke nodded, more to himself than to Richard, swallowing as he tentatively pressed the Pokeball's centre button, forcing back a gasp at the sudden reaction, the Pokeball snapping open, pushing backwards against the teenager's arm as a burst of primarily red light appeared to move across the ground as if lightning, before slowly swirling to solidify into a shape, colour and texture rapidly being created from the energy until a Scyther-the Scyther-appeared, standing with its blade-like arms in front of it, essentially covering its body defensively. It made no sound, but eyelids rose on its reptilian face, revealing its pitch-black eyes.
Looking at those eyes that stared at him so, Zeke felt a chill. He wasn't sure what the eyes conveyed...hurt? Accusational? ...Apologetic? Somehow, it didn't seem...angry. Or aggressive in any way.
Zeke tried to say something, before finding his throat too dry to say it. Swallowing, he tried again, hiding the tremble that wanted to enter his voice at the sight of the notoriously fast and deadly Pokemon in front of him.
"Hiya. I'm...sorry for what, um, happened. Um... I'm doing all I can to Release you as quickly as possible, for what it's worth." Zeke spoke as clearly as he could. The Scyther stared back, expressionless, before nodding almost sagely. Zeke sighed his relief that the Scyther clearly understood him, and even knew what a nod meant to humans. Now that Zeke could look closer, he could see that he was right, and the Pokemon was injured. From the frontal body limbs that weren't covered by Scyther's bladed arms, Zeke noticed what looked like a thin scratch beneath the Scyther's left eye, blood dribbling from it as if it were a fresh cut, leaving small red streak across its face. Besides that, the only visible wounds were gashes, bruises and cuts along the flesh and skin sections of the Scyther's arms, possibly defensive wounds from trying to protect itself against a clawed enemy.
Zeke felt a warm, furred body press against his leg. Zeke looked down, smiling his thanks to Richard, feeling calmer with Richard there.
"We don't want to harm you, and while we work to get you Released, I wanted to give you what freedom we can for now until we can sever the link between you and the Pokeball. So you don't have to remain in it, that is. Do...do you want that?" Zeke awkwardly went on. It was strange...Zeke had to look down to look into the Scyther's face; the Scyther barely reached 5 feet in height, if that. And yet, with the blood soaked reptilian cheek, the marks of violence and the massive sword-like arms...the smaller creature was a thousand times more intimidating than the taller human.
The Scyther looked at Zeke, cocking its head, appearing almost quizzical. It nodded, once more. Buoyed by the Scyther's agreement, Zeke went on.
"Sorry, again, for what happened...why did you attack me, thoug-" Zeke was cut off almost as soon as he started the question as the Scyther swung its forearms forward-well out of reach of Zeke though-in obvious anger, showing fangs as it finally 'spoke'.
'Scyther!', it shouted, either in anger or denial, causing Zeke to stumble back with a shriek and Houndour to move in front of the boy, lowering on its haunches and growling warningly. The Scyther suddenly quieted, quickly moving its arms to cover itself again as it hissed a quiet 'Scy' and shook its head vigorously, before looking down in obvious shame.
Zeke tried to calm his beating heart, his mind put back to hours before, suddenly realizing the stupidity of it all, of him now talking and helping what he was before running for his life from. Feeling numb, he patted Richard's back appreciatively, standing next to the Houndour.
"Th-thanks, Rich, I'm fine, its fine." Zeke assured the Pokemon, turning back to look at the Scyther, troubled. He thought he saw something, some severe discolouration, underneath what the Scyther now hid behind arms...pushing that to the back of his mind, Zeke tried to placate the Pokemon, "Okay, okay. Sorry, you didn't mean to attack me?"
A nod from the Scyther.
"You didn't know what you were doing?"
A shaking of the arms, almost like a shrug, before the Scyther nodded again.
"But you were in a fight, recently? I can see your wounds..."
The Scyther was silent for a few moments, before hissing quietly and nodding, turning his head aside, no longer looking at Zeke.
"You didn't mean to attack me, one way or another, you were just...Confused?", a shrug, "...Blinded?", a shake of a head, "You couldn't think, you were just...in pain?"
The Scyther slowly turned its head back, looking at Zeke. 'Scy...'. Its call was one of true sadness, or apology. It bowed its head, in some form of acceptance. Zeke fear was washed away at the sound of the call...it sounded so gentle, so sad. Zeke could only guess that the Scyther was attacked by someone, perhaps trying to catch it, and it was driven into a rage, somehow. His heart went out to the Pokemon, and he patted Richard's head comfortingly before walking past the Houndour, bravely towards the green Bug pokemon. The Scyther's head shot up, brow frowning in suspicion as Zeke pulled a box from his Pocket.
"It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you. This is just to heal your wounds, okay? May I?" Zeke offered, opening the box and showing the ointment to the creature. The Scyther turned away, clearly a 'no'. Zeke was persistent, though.
"I'm only trying to help. Come on, it will work quickly."
The Scyther didn't look like it was going to change its mind. Too prideful, Zeke decided, and tried a different method.
"Well, I understand that you may not want anyone touching your scratches, I'm sure they're painful..." Zeke almost suggested. The Scyther frowned, clearly recognizing the hidden implication in the human's words that it would be too painful for the Scyther. It hissed under its breath, reluctantly tilting its face so that Zeke could easily reach the scratch under the eye. Smiling, Zeke scooped a generous dose of the ointment on his fingers.
"Thank you." Zeke said politely, putting the bladed arms out of his mind and carefully brushing fur aside with his clean hand so that he could clearly access the cut skin. The Scyther's fur was surprisingly soft to the touch, despite it being such a thin layer, though much cooler in temperature than the dabs of deep red blood that got on Zeke's fingers. The cut visible, Zeke uses his other, ointment-covered fingers to very gently drip a bit of the medicine onto the cut, smoothing it out to cover the scratch. Impressively, the Scyther didn't even let out a hiss at the pain it must have felt. Letting go of the Scyther's head-Zeke couldn't do anything to clean up the bloodstained fur, yet- Zeke stood back, getting another helping of the mixture on the palm of his hand.
"Your arm now, please?" Zeke asked. The Scyther obediently-still covering, specifically, it's right side with its right arm-offered Zeke its left, the blade facing away from the human. Zeke spread the mixture over the arm and up to the shoulder, and again when the Scyther switched arms-still carefully keeping a side of its body out of view.
The Scyther made a noise to express its thanks as Zeke stepped back, getting a much larger scoop of the medicinal mixture on his hands, raising an eyebrow as he looked at the Scyther-various parts of the Pokemon covered in dabs of crushed berries. It was hard to still be afraid of what he had stood so close to and touched the fur and skin of, and Zeke felt himself relaxing, even smiling at treating the Pokemon.
"Okay, now please remove your arms. I'm going to need to see whatever scratch you're hiding, I don't care how bad it is. This is a strong mixture, I'll be able to clear it up in minutes, I promise." Zeke grinned. The Scyther, though, did not grin...but it did nod hesitantly, slowly taking its arms away from itself. The grin was wiped off Zeke's face as he suddenly felt like he had to vomit.
Reaching from the corner of the Scyther's abdomen, above the hip, down almost as far to the knee, the Scyther's fur and skin was marred beyond recognition. A huge cut had cleaved into the flesh, yet almost no bleeding was evident, possible having to do with the sickening, purple discolouration around the great wound. Poisoned, likely as not. It's remarkable the Scyther appeared to be in as good condition as it was. The cut was almost a foot long, in total...Zeke realized the positioning of it may have saved his own life earlier, though...the Scyther could not possibly move at its normal speed with an injury like that.
Forcing back nausea, Zeke bit his lip, kneeling down and forcing himself to, as gently as he possibly could, let drops of the mixture sink into and around the scratch. Even as slowly and carefully as Zeke worked, the Scyther let out a couple of groans of 'Scyyyyther'as he carefully did his best to heal the damaged skin, each time he heard something Zeke made sure he apologized profusely to the Pokemon. Finally, the injury was covered in the curative concoction and the Scyther had quietened. Standing back up, Zeke continued to speak to the Scyther as he gently stripped away the hardened ointment from beneath the Pokemon's eye; berries were known for their incredibly fast healing effects on most Pokemon.
"There, all done. Thank you...and I'm sorry that you've suffered so, especially at the hands of my kind. I promise I won't let anything like that happen, not while you're in my care." Zeke comforted the Pokemon, hoping the proud creature didn't slash him for it. The Scyther didn't, but its eyes looked meaningly into the boy's as Zeke inspected where the cut was beneath the eye earlier. It must have been a worse cut than he had thought before, possibly evidence of more poisoning of some kind. The cut had healed in minutes, as Zeke knew it would, but slightly paler-than-usual skin was left behind; a scar where fur would not grow again. Grimacing, Zeke went on to strip off the remaining coverings step by step, several scars still left along the Scyther's arms and a large one where the major wound was. However, the healing had otherwise worked perfectly, and when Zeke stood back, the Scyther was inspecting the scars with wonder at the almost instant healing rather than disappointment at the scars.
"Sorry for the scarring, there's nothing that can-" Zeke began before being cut off again. 'Scy! Scy scy scyther-ther-scy!' The Pokemon interrupted, though this time exclaiming-quite loudly-its thank you, quite clearly, from the shaking of its head at Zeke's apology, and its wings behind it fluttering in some form of cheer. Now that Zeke's attention wasn't distracted by injuries, though, Zeke noticed something, and remembered the visual difference between male and female Scyther. Zeke smiled at the Scyther's fervent thanks.
"You're welcome, I assure you. You don't feel any lingering pain?", a shake of the head, "Good. If you don't mind me asking, by the way, you're a male Pokemon, right?"
Scyther's wings fluttered again, in annoyance or otherwise were unclear to Zeke, but the Scyther nevertheless nodded, calming down.
"Do you..." Zeke stopped himself. He was going to ask if the Scyther had a name, before realizing the stupidity of such a question. All Pokemon's 'names' for each other consisted of imperceptible different pitches and tones of pronunciation within a Pokemon's highly limited vocabulary. Instead, Zeke rethought his question, "While we work to Release you, do you want me to call you by some name, or just 'Scyther'?"
The Pokemon cocked its head, looking at Zeke oddly, before shrugging. 'Scy'. Zeke resisted the urge to roll his eyes. That was unhelpful.
"I think I'll give you a name, if you're okay with it." Zeke said, noticing happily that the Scyther nodded without appearing annoyed in any way. "While I think, though, perhaps you would like to meet a family member of mine? This Houndour is Richard." Zeke offered, letting the Houndour walk forwards-seemingly far more comfortable around the Scyther after watching Zeke heal it. The two Pokemon immediately began to converse in growls, barks, calls and hisses of 'Houndour' and 'Scyther', in some form or another.
They appeared to get along, as Zeke thought on what name to give the Pokemon. He gave Pokemon names just as he would a human, at least a baby, obviously. To do otherwise would surely just dehumanize the equally intelligent creatures, and one of Zeke's many annoyances towards most Pokemon 'owners' and 'trainers'.
As the talk between the Houndour and Scyther quietened minutes later, Zeke finally spoke up.
"Eamon. What do you think of that name?" Zeke asked the Scyther as it turned back to him. It nodded, before shrugging again. Zeke grinned, "Eamon it is, then. If you don't mind, I think you're going to have to meet my parents one way or another, then. They're nice people, I promise, and won't hurt you. Would you prefer to walk? A Scyther might attract the wrong sorts of attention around these parts."
The Scyther-or rather, 'Eamon'-nodded in understanding, and pointed to the Zeke's pocket, where its Pokeball lay. Zeke nodded in return, raising the pokeball with apprehension. He didn't like this feeling of...dominance over the Pokemon, as he held the pokeball. Not that the Scyther seemed to mind.
"Well, it was nice to meet you, Eamon. In case I didn't mention before, my name is Zeke, Zeke Connor. I promise, you'll be back in your natural habitat as soon as possible." hitting the Pokeball's centre, a beam of red light erupted from the button Zeke had triggered as soon as his finger left it, connecting to the Scyther as the Pokemon's body appeared to phase away, leaving only a trail of shuddering red electric-like energy shooting back into the pokeball.
Zeke looked at the pokeball...it was uncomfortable, knowing his newest friend, Eamon, was inside it, inside its own virtual world within, able to hear and smell the real world faintly, but ultimately within a conscious dream. Doing his best to put it from his mind, Zeke began the walk back home, calling Richard to follow alongside, and talking to Richard along the way.
...
Yes, as confirmed earlier in the chapter with a flashback to the first chapter...since it wasn't clear at the time, the very, very first part of this story where Zeke was crying was when he was thirteen, not sixteen like every other time. Actually, I made two flashbacks to earlier chapters in one, strangely.
Also, yes, quite a few names to remember, I know. So to help people, whenever new characters are introduced, I'll place a bit of their information at the end author's notes, though I won't really reveal anything (such as age) that hasn't already been revealed or implied. I may also, if people think I should, place information like this on my profile, and update character information as the story reveals it.
But as for already introduced characters, to place them here:
(HUMANS)
Zeke Connor: 16 years old. Often described as being 'self-rightous', Zeke is a vegan by diet and calls himself a 'pacifist' who likes to think he's crusading against the cruel treatment of Pokemon by society. Intelligent in his own right, but more rebellious than wise, Zeke remains an unlikable introvert to most, save Pokemon.
Rivet Stevens: 17 years old, Grade-A student and more popular amongst the school than one might think, Rivet is practical, kind and knowledgeable, as well as being slow to anger and quick to forgive. He considers his Zangoose, Ken, to be his closest friend, and treats him as such, and suggestions that he doesn't care about Ken may be one of the few things that can anger Rivet. His relationship with his parents is close, despite their busy schedules, and his family are not lacking in wealth. Rivet guides Ken's desire to spar and fight for sport, and it is rumoured around the school that Rivet intends to fight in the Azalea City Gym.
Keith Connor: Unknown age, and father of Zeke. Zeke is far from an easy child to raise, but both of his parents have reached understandings with the child, and are proud of him. Known for good-natured teasing and arguments between his son and himself, Keith dislikes the concept of intentionally having Pokemon fight just as all of the Connor family does, but understands possible coexistence between Pokemon and Humans better than his son.
Trish Connor: Unknown age, and mother of Zeke. Hard-working and sensible, Trish shares the views of her husband, but is more active in trying to restrain Zeke's rather more extreme stances. A friend of Rivet Steven's parents.
Aiden and Dean: 17 year old students at Azalea High. Both have a cruel sense of humour, sparing little care for wild Pokemon or other students, and the most active in picking on the younger Zeke. Both were recently injured by a flock of Pidgey.
(POKEMON)
Ken (Zangoose): Orphaned, but raised from an egg by Rivet, Ken is about 10 years old, and Male. Kept in a Luxury Ball, but closest friend to Rivet, Ken is a shameless show-off, has a good sense of humour and a keen fighter, though purely for sport. A gracious loser and winner both, a more good-natured Zangoose you'll never find.
Eamon (Scyther): Caught by accident by Zeke, Eamon is of an unknown age, and Male. Eamon doesn't appear altogether talkative. Eamon appears relatively cool-headed most of the time, but not much else is known about Eamon, besides severe scarring it suffered at the hands of a Poison Pokemon led by a trainer.
Richard Connor (Houndour): 23 years old, and Male. Though 23 may sound old, Pokemon tend to live for some time, so this Houndour isn't much older by its own standards than an actual human 23 year-old. Mature, and perfectly willing to disagree with other members of the family, Richard is nevertheless always happy to stand by silently, watching over his family members protectively. Slightly more talkative than your average Pokemon, Richard has no interest in fighting for any reasons but to defend one of the family, and is known for comforting Zeke when the teenager feels depressed or scared.
Well, that's all. Like I said, I'll put up more in later chapters if necessary, and I may move these to my profile if I get reviews that suggest such.
All reviews will be appreciated massively. They encourage me to write, after all, and I try to respond to every review, critical or not.
Well, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Let me know what you thought.