Welcome to the chapter powered by acid a drug that only exists in the Pokemon world! Made from Sigilyph tears!

Shine a Light in the Darkness

Chapter 9: Spirit Animal

Tormod looked at me. "So?"

I shrugged. "I don't feel any different."

"I'm not surprised," Largo said. He was picking his nose with the same degree of spirit and ferociousness with which I go after a half-rack of barbecued ribs. "It kicks in real slow-like, yeah? Yeah. You won't know you're high until it's over."

"Whatever, man." I stopped to watch a green-clad breakdancer by the town fountain. As my Pokémon and I looked on, he bent back like a tree's leaf reaching for the sun, then planted his palm on the ground and spun like the same leaf in a hurricane. "This guy's pretty good…"

"Yeah, he's world-class," Largo agreed.

"You like my work, Mon?" The dancer stopped himself and leapt to his feet. "You'd like it better if I had some brothers to dance with, then I could really put on a show. You look like one-a those wandering trainers, am I right?"

"That's right," I nodded.

"If you help me put this show together, I got something would be more useful to you. Sounds good?"

"Sounds good," I echoed. I was getting afraid that once I was high, he wouldn't be able to understand what I said, so I clung to the last words out of his mouth to anchor my speech in firm English. Or maybe I was only afraid of that because I was already high.

"Let's seal the deal the trainer way, with a battle!" he said excitedly. "Go, Pansage!" He sent out one of those monkeys. Those fucking monkey spies. One of the leafy ones.

"Okay, Largo, let's see what you can do!" I waved him forward with one hand, rubbing my eye with another. Was I high yet? Or was everything as it appeared. I was getting paranoid; wasn't this drug supposed to cause relaxation? Or was I paranoid because I was afraid of the crowds of the city, and the drug hadn't kicked in yet? "Faint Attack at the first opportunity!" Largo marched proudly forward, sucking on his finger. He pulled it out, preened the spine on his head, and grinned.

"Vine Whip, 'mon!" Largo charged forward, evidently trying to outrace the Pansage, but it slammed him across the face with a Vine. He blocked part of it with his arm, staggered, caught himself, and continued his charge – only to trip over his 'pants' and fall just short of the Pansage. The breakdancer started to laugh, and his Pansage joined in with a shrill, shrieking cackle. I laughed too, but for different reasons. Largo could put on a good act.

Copying the moves we had seen the breakdancer use, Largo planted a hand on the concrete in front of him and pivoted his legs and tail around it. "Sneak Attack, mothafucka!" His tail caught the Pansage in the back of the knees and knocked it flat on its back, as Largo spun to his feet. "Try something with more 'oomph' next time!" he bragged, rubbing his cheek.

The breakdancer had that idea in mind, apparently. "Get in there with some Fury Swipes!" Without any further warning, that monkey was right on top of Largo, doing its best to tear open another layer of his skin.

"Largo, Brick Break!" I called. Largo kept his arms up and endured a few blows of Fury Swipes, but once he had the monkey in a pattern, he grabbed it by the wrist, stopping the attack on the fourth swipe.

"What's that?" Largo drawled out, exaggerating his words. "Bone Break, you said, yeah? You got it, chief." He turned back toward the ape, and I couldn't see his expression, but the monkey looked ready to shit bricks. Largo twisted the monkey's arm, and his other fist whipped out and up, smashing its elbow with a sick noise. "Welcome…

-?-

…to hell!" the red-clad breakdancer shouted, as his Pansear wiped the blood from its temple. "Pansear, light it up!" He did another of his fiery spins for emphasis. The Pansear used Ember again – but not on Brom; this time he used it on the dumpsters surrounding us. The combustible trash immediately began to burn, filling the area with heat, flickering light and choking, noxious smoke. "What do you say to that?"

"I say, 'Brom, Mud-slap!'"

"You don't have to tell me twice, Layla!" Brom kicked up a muddy puddle, spraying it across the burning monkey's face. The Pansear shrieked in irritation, leapt the distance to Brom in a bound, and latched onto his antenna with a Bite. Brom bellowed and tried to shake the monkey off; instead, it got some leverage against a dumpster and pulled Brom off the ground, shaking him around.

"My monkey's pretty strong, wouldn't you agree?" the dancer bragged.

"That's true," I said, "but your tactics need work. Brom tracks his opponent by hearing, so smoke and fire aren't going to help your Pokémon conceal itself much – in fact, they'll only make it harder for him to see. Now, Brom!" Brom shook himself loose and flew a few feet straight up. "Headbutt!" He dropped antenna-first onto the Pansear, slamming it against the ground with the force of a meteor impact… Well, sufficient force to dent a dumpster and K.O. the monkey, anyway. "Nice!"

"Alright," the dancer said sullenly, forking over my reward and withdrawing his Pokémon. "I'll go see what this ruckus is." He stalked off. I quickly proceeded in the other direction – the trash fire was getting overwhelmingly nasty and I didn't want to pass out from the stench (or get blamed for starting it).

I hadn't gotten thirty feet when an older man leapt out from behind another dumpster. He was wearing a trench coat and tennis shoes, and he had slicked-back hair and a seedy pencil mustache. "Hey kid, I got something right here for ya as a reward for your performance!" He tore his trench coat open.

"Oooh," Edward said. Under his trench coat, the man was wearing… nothing, exposing his bony, pale, slightly liver-spotted and generally unpleasant skin. Only the inexplicably-adhering disk of a TM protected his wedding tackle from the elements.

"This is TM70," the man explained helpfully. "It contains Flash, and it's really useful. Don't you want it?"

"There's no way I'm touching that," I said. I did NOT want my first non-glancing skin contact with a human in years to be this pervert's sixty-something wrinkly dick.

"I'll get it," Edward said with a mixture of eagerness and ferocity. He bared his fangs. "I've mostly grown out of it, but you know I'm the best there is at fetching."

I smiled sweetly at the man. "Did you hear that? My Herdier will fetch the TM from you. At fetching, he's simply the best there is."

The man winked at me, then simply pulled the TM loose and tossed it to me, leaving nothing to the imagination – even the darkness of the alley couldn't spare me, as the flames behind me illuminated him perfectly. I almost missed grabbing the TM, absorbed in my thoughts of bleaching out my eyes. He smiled at me. "And I'm the best there is…

-?-

…at massages!" the woman bragged, rubbing Zihark's shoulders. "You cannot hope to beat me in a rub-off!"

"A rub-off?" I asked incredulously. I watched her lovingly massage Zihark, trying her best to coax him out of the funk he'd been in since evolving. If anything, he looked lost in his memories. "You know what, never mind." I wandered into the elevator. It was so strange; it was like one particular button was lit up, as if begging me to press it. I obediently slammed on it, and the elevator shot upward. Is this the drug? I wondered. Or are all the other floors locked? I should try another floor and see if it works… just as I resolved to do that, the doors snapped open, and I stepped out, distracted.

"Then the little Zorua wandered deeper into the forest, not thinking about how she would get home," a boy said. He was about seven, and reading to a girl of about three who could have been his sister. I meandered over toward them. "But she wasn't worried, because the little Zorua had a special Pokémon power." He turned the page loudly, revealing an impressive pop-up of whirling smoke clouds circling a well-crafted cardboard Zorua. "The little Zorua, like many others of her kind, could forge lies into truth. She thought that with her power, she could fool everybody into giving her what she wanted, and even undo death. She thought that she could make everybody happy with her power."

"And she could, right?" the little girl asked, her green eyes sparkling.

The boy turned the page again, revealing that the smoke clouds had become a raging thunderstorm. "The little Zorua was wrong," he said sadly. "Her lies couldn't undo death; they only caused more people to die. The people she tried to make happy were sad." He turned the page again, revealing the thunderstorm had coalesced around a man dressed in white. "She talked to a strange man famous for speaking with Pokémon, but because she could only speak in lies, he misunderstood her." The boy took a deep breath. "He made all the people listen to him, but he didn't understand the problem, and he also could only make things even worse."

The little girl looked ready to bawl. "But when will things get better?" She saw me for the first time and started. The little boy looked over his shoulder and saw me as well. I realized I was practically reading over his shoulder and stepped back awkwardly. "Who're you?" the girl asked.

"Don't mind me," I said, smiling sadly. "This was my favorite story when I was young. It's just really, really beautiful." I sniffed.

The boy was blinking back tears as well. "Are you…

-?-

…going to cry now?" Zihark asked, his leaf cloak fluttering back into place. The breakdancer's Panpour was on the ground on its elbows and knees, clutching a deep cut in its side where Zihark had Razor Leafed it. "There is no shame in a warrior crying." He paused and sighed. "My mother cried over her weakness, but every day I ask myself for her strength."

"I just wanted to help my master put on a show," the Panpour gasped, "but I had barely let out the opening Water Sport when the battle was over! You have no idea how to entertain, do you?"

"Wow, you're quite the trainer!" The blue-clad dancer gave me a fluid bow. "You knew just what type I'd use, didn'cha? Alright, I'll go check out this scene by the fountain." He wandered off, leaving me wandering the piers. I saw a black boat with Team Plasma's emblem on the side, prompting a downshift in my mood; I irritably asked an attendant about it, but they didn't know anything.

"Well, what about the white boat next to it?" I asked, hovering somewhere between curious and belligerent.

"Oh, that's a ferry that takes passengers with special passes to Liberty Garden. It's not accepting guests right now, though. The Champion closed it personally last week, he said there was some sort of incident?"

I left, deciding to become disgusted that the attendant had spoken the statement as a question. How dare she? That was just plain obnoxious, and beyond that, the information she had given was unsatisfying!

"Excuse me," a man in a cheap suit asked me, "but I was wondering – do you have one of the Pan line of monkeys?"

"No," I said, "I don't like them. You should look for one of the local breakdancers, they seem to all have elemental monkeys."

The man shrugged. "This is actually us advertising to tourists. I'm with Shopping Mall Nine and – well, listen, I'm gonna give you an elemental stone absolutely free! What would you like, Fire, Water, or Grass?"

I shrugged. "I guess I'll take a Water Stone. What's it for?"

The man took a blue crystalline rock from his satchel and handed it to me. It reminded me of the Moon Stone Lenora had given me. "It evolves some Water-type Pokémon – Panpour's the only local one, but there are a bunch of foreign ones it works on." I stared into the stone. It sure was fascinating. "Hello? Hello? Arceus, she's been like this for ten minutes… ARE YOU OKAY?"

"Huh?" I looked up. "Hey, dude, do you have any idea where I can get foreign Pokémon?"

"I dunno. You could find foreign people and ask if they want to trade. Castelia gets tourists from out of the country. There's a big party with a bunch of them…

-?-

…right up the stairs," the pink-haired girl behind the desk said, staring directly at me. It was kind of unsettling. She wouldn't stop looking me up and down. "Foreign people. Right up the stairs. Not from around here. And up those stairs. Yeah."

"Oooooooooooookay!" I turned on my heel and marched toward the elevator, which was reasonable because I didn't see any stairs. Like, at all.

"Wait!" she called as I pressed the elevator call button.

"Yes, you've warned me about the stairs," I sighed. I wish somebody had warned me about her stares. Was she checking out my butt now? I turned around. She had a TM in her hand.

"I have to give you this." She threw it at me, and I caught it. It was Attract. "You're the most beautiful creature I have ever laid eyes on."

I blushed and shrugged. "Thanks… you have nice hair." She passed out from the sheer ecstacy.

I hit the lit button on the elevator, and then I stepped into a chaotic mass of weaving people. I suddenly became very claustrophobic and attempted to step back into the elevator, only to be joined by a woman whose hair was plastered all over her face. She peeled it back and laughed.

"Hey," I said with a nod as the elevator carried us back down to the first floor. It was kind of crowded with my whole team of Pokémon out.

"Hallo!" she replied cheerily, her breath reeking of alcohol. "Ich bin eine Pokémon Koordinatorin. Ich heiβe Charlotte! Und du?"

It took me about thirty seconds to figure out what she had said from the words I understood. "Oh… I'm Layla… I'm a Pokémon… Pokémon trainer... rin?" Charlotte nodded in immediate understanding and offered me some beer that I guess she had just carried out of the party. "No thanks," I said. There was enough of something in my system already. "But I could go for…

-?-

…some Soda Pop?" the bartender shrugged. "Sorry, kid, we're out, but you do and your Pokémon do look thirsty. Here, you guys have some Lemonade on the house!"

I had some.

It was the best Lemonade.

In the history of the universe.

Ever.

For real.

I guess.

No, no, I'm sure.

"Are you okay, Layla?" Rolf asked. "You've been staring into that lemonade a long time. The rest of us are finished."

I downed the rest of it all at once. "Yeah, I'm good." But something else distracted me as I put the glass down. "Hey, have you guys ever…

-?-

…looked at your claws?" I asked.

"That'll be two hundred," the clerk replied.

"Huh?"

"Enjoy your Casteliacone!" He shoved it into my hand. It looked kind of like a Vanillish.

I couldn't read my money – the numbers would NOT stay still – so I just threw a handful of the larger coins at the clerk and staggered out of the line. "Ice cream…" I shoved it into my bag. "Later, maybe. So, do you guys have anywhere you want to go?"

Largo fingered our new Amulet Coin. "Let's go fight the Battle Company!" he suggested. "You guys seem really tough… together, we can win there!"

"What's the Battle Company?"

"It's this weird office where authority is decided by who the best Pokémon Trainer is."

"What's it an office of?"

"Arceus knows," Largo snapped, "it doesn't matter! Let's beat them up and take their money! And get stronger! A lot of trainers passing through clear a couple of floors of the Battle company as a warm-up for Burgh!"

"I don't know, do you think you can handle it?"

"Layla, I think I know what I'm doing…" Largo said with a gap-toothed grin.

"Alright, Largo…

-?-

…use Brick Break!"

"One order of Brat Break, no onions!" Largo dodged to the side, caught the charging Herdier by the fur, and swung it face-first into the wall. "Next time…

-?-

…you think of underestimating EDWARD THE GIANTSLAYER, think twice! If not more than twice!" Edward stood over an unconscious Munna. "I wouldn't want…

-?-

…ta hurtcha," Brom said kindly to a Swoobat embedded in a wall by one of his Rock Blasts, "but you were irritating me with all that flapping around. You didn't think…

-?-

…I'd play by your rules, did you?" Rolf said, setting the Basculin on each other with liberal use of Confuse Rays. "That's cute, but a Watchog can only get so far in this world if he's not playing to win. I won't mess you up too badly…

-?-

…but I'm not holding back after you wrecked everybody in my department!" the VP warned, sending out a full set of the elemental monkeys. I waved forward Zihark and Tormod. The latter immediately Tackled the Pansear, distracting it, while Zihark fired off a barrage of Razor Leaves. The Panpour immediately found itself pinned to a cubicle wall, but Pansage leapt on Zihark, biting at his protective leaves until they shredded in his paws.

Suddenly, Zihark began to glow, and a long, bladed arm shot up from the leaf pile, startling the Pansage. The other arm shot up and wrapped the monkey in a bear hug. Zihark finally shot up, the leaf coating torn apart to reveal his lean, armored body. "A guy could get used to this," he said, and bit down hard on the Pansage's leafy head.

Zihark classed up to Trueblade... er, evolved into Leavanny!

"I'm glad you're happy," Tormod said, tossing away the beaten Pansear, "But it's…

-?-

…not over… not yet." The janitor sent out his other Pokémon, a Minccino. "I have a confession to make… I'm actually the C.E.O. of Battle Company. I disguise myself as the janitor sometimes to make sure things are being run the way I –"

"So what do you guys do for a business?" I asked.

"Never you mind!" the man snapped. "Minccino, Fury Attack!"

"Tormod, Arm Thrust!" Tormod blocked the lashing tail attacks with his shoulder and set his hooves together, slamming them into the Normal-Type's stomach. The Minccino collapsed, a smoking, cross-shaped mark burned into his fur.

"That," said the old man, "was…

-?-

… totally wicked!" I cried out. "Look how much money we made! I bet we could take on Burgh tonight no problem! Hey, art!" I took a hard right into an art gallery. Rolf shouted something after me… I don't know, I wasn't really listening anymore. I looked around at the portraits and landscapes dotting the walls, rubbing my temples to try and stop them from spinning. I heard more babbling behind me. "Give me a minute, Rolf hey wait…" I stared at the man behind me. He was wearing a suit and clown makeup. Or maybe I was very, very high. "You're not Rolf… I'm sorry, sir, did you say something?"

"I asked if you like my paintings?" the man asked. His accent sounded like complete bullshit and was about the worst thing I'd ever had grate across my eardrums. I highly suspected it was fake.

"Oh, these are yours?" I asked.

"Of course!" he said. "This is the Harlequin gallery!" Arceus, I wanted to strangle that accent right out of him.

"Oh, I'm sorry, of course!" I smiled toothily. "They're really nice… you have the most FASCINATING accent, where are you from?"

"I'm Hoennian." No you're not, you don't even know it's 'Hoennese.' "And you are a trainer, if I'm not mistaken. I get my inspiration from watching Pokémon… but I've been having trouble finding Dark-types around here. Do you have any?" I started laughing hysterically. It was about the funniest thing I had ever heard. I couldn't control myself. "Are… you okay?"

"Yeah…" I burst into another peal of laughter. "Right here, sir, I'm a perfect specimen, don't you think?"

"Excuse me?"

I drew myself up to my full height and grinned at him. "You don't recognize a Zoroark when you see one?"

The clown looked confused. "This is a joke?" he said, making his statements into questions with a spin of that ridiculous accent. "I don't get the reference?"

My Pokémon scooted round the corner – apparently they had lost track of me for a minute. "Layla, yer really not yerself," Brom said. "And you' been blankin' out all day. Let's getcha somewhere where you can rest yer head."

"Oh, hey!" Harlequin pointed at Largo, who looked confused for a second before giving a confident, gap-toothed grin. "A Dark-type! Would you mind if your Scraggy modeled for me while I take some photos for inspiration? I'll give you some rare Hoennian…" I gritted my teeth, trying not to scream… "berries in exchange! They're really helpful in battles!"

"I'll do modeling as long as it's not porn," Largo said, flexing his non-existent biceps. "The pants stay up! Well, mostly up. Up enough."

"Yeah, sure," I said to Harlequin.

"Excellent…" he offered me some berries from his jacket. "What would you like? I've got Pecha, Rawst, Cheri…"

"Hmm…

-?-

…I can't decide," I admitted.

"What the FUCK?" Tormod yelled, making half the team, myself included, jump about a foot in the air.

"Tormod, what the hell was that?" I asked angrily.

"Tormod's right, Layla," Rolf said.

"It was kind of funny…" Edward said, "and then it wasn't… and then it got hilarious… but now it's just sad."

"What are you talking about?" I asked angrily.

"Layla…" Zihark said gently, "You've been putting coins in a vending machine for forty-five minutes."

I swallowed, looked at the coin in my hand, and the maxed-out total on the vending machine display. "It's actually been the same coin for a little while now," Tormod grunted. "How thirsty are you, anyway?"

"Let's just get those drinks and get out of here," I grumbled. I stared at the machine. The text was still dancing. Frustrated, I pressed all three buttons with both hands and watched plastic bottles spill out of the machine and into my waiting bag until it was sold out of everything. I pushed the button to recover my change, but as the coins clinked into the lower slot… well, I admit I became distracted again. "Have you guys ever looked at your claws?" I said, staring at mine.

"Yes, Layla, you've already asked that," Tormod said impatiently.

"Yeah, but… I mean, REALLY looked at them?"

Tormod slapped his hoof to his eyes. "You've got to sober up, Layla. You look about ready to vomit."

"No way, I'm not…

-?-

…gonna vomit, I'm not gonna vomit, I'm not…" I threw up over the pier railing. "Okay, I feel better. Except for my throat." Suddenly, I realized that the crying that I had been hearing for the last ten minutes (fun fact: you're not actually supposed to follow the sound of somebody crying in a big city in case it's some kind of trap) was quite familiar to me. I turned. Bianca was crying over on the other side of the pier; a younger girl with medium-dark skin and singularly enormous hair was comforting her. "Bianca?" I made my way over to her side of the pier. "What's wrong?"

"Layla? Is that you?" Bianca looked up blearily at me. "Oh… how rude of me…" she sniffled. "Layla, this is Iris; Iris…" she stifled a sob, "…Layla."

I shook my head. "Introductions can wait, Bianca… what's wrong?" She only started bawling harder.

"Are you okay?" Iris asked, her nose wrinkling. "I just saw your Pignite helping you to the pier so you could vomit… and you look kind of…" she gesticulated wildly, looking for the word... "blurry."

"I'm fine," I said. "Stop dodging the question, why the fuck is Bianca crying?"

"Team Plasma took MY Munna this time!" Bianca sobbed out.

"The grunt that took it could be anywhere in the city by now," Iris whispered to me. "She already called her friend Cheren, who told the local Gym Leader he was battling, but three, or four, or even five people aren't enough to search a city this big!"

"Don't worry," I assured her. "A guy in this city can run, but he can't hide. Not from me."

My reviewers mostly seemed to think something bad would come out of the drugs. Well, Layla vomits at the end and there seem to be some gaps in her memory (and she goes around telling people she's a Zoroark, which is... kind of off), but it looks like the worst she got into was blunt force foreshadowing with those little kids and their storybook.

I somehow got it into my head that the proper way to illustrate the adventures in Castelia was with a drug-fueled montage, and this is the end result. I was all over that city, man. I hung out there long enough while my writing caught up that a massage every day lead to Zihark evolving at level 22. Even the stuff not mentioned in here happened, like the Eviolite - I just wasn't able to make it amusing.

That flasher, btw, is modeled after John Waters, a director who cameos as a flasher in his movie Hairspray and who also appears in "The Creep" by The Lonely Island. Because he's a classic creeper.

I wish you could trade with those foreigners and get Gen I-IV Pokemon in-game. I mean, there's a Hiker with a Pikachu in another building! Come on! But no, you've gotta get a National Dex first.

Ha, Rolf, Tormod, and Brom are the responsible ones in the party. Mostly Rolf. Tormod only starts being responsible if he has to, and Brom is team dad by way of the hands-off father approach. Edward has a weak grasp on when things are bad ideas, Zihark is nice but a little self-absorbed, and Largo is... well, he probably thought the best thing was for Layla to see her trip through to the end.

Next chapter, Layla and Burgh team up to kick much Plasbutt and Layla starts the Gym challenge! Meanwhile, we find out what's going on up in Victini's pad and why the ferry's closed.

Nuzlocke challenge (c) Nuzlocke
Pokemon (c) Nintendo and Game Freak
Layla (c) me