Chapter 34, everybody! In which I finally get the lead out of my rear end and post—fair warning that posting might be spotty until the end of October; our crops are coming in. ^^;
ChangelingRin, thanks for the review! Ah, glad you like it. :D I agree, that seems strange—"oh you just had a life-threatening experience? That's nice dear"—especially with how Ash's mom reacts to him being in danger in the second movie. Thank you, I shall! :D
Dunkaccino, thanks for the review! To be fair, I read that Marvel Comics did a study on how much time a person can devote to an online reading, and based on that study, they aimed to keep their digital comics short—about three pages worth. Based on that, I tend to start looking for soft spots to bail and end a chapter at around three pages, although recently I've been trying to make sure to maintain a minimum of 2,000 words per chapter (I've actually spliced some chapters together, to be fair, so they're not so short—they're easy to spot because they're written in a choppier manner). I try not to be one of those 'update every few months' people, but 1) I'm working on earning a degree, and 2) I'm helping with outdoor work, so the entirety of my summer has been booked solid and fun fanfics are unfortunately put on the back burner. My apologies. ^^;
IceDragonGirl36, thanks for the review! The world may never know….
Jakeroo123, thanks for the review! Good question….Yes, and then the Professor wakes up—"Did I leave the TV on again?" Maybe—that would make more sense. Again, maybe…he takes lessons from Professor Kukui. Not sure on that one. *shrugs*
Dragonkeeper10, thanks for the review! True—and good question….
Grievousrommel, thanks for the review! Haha, yes—my first experience with it was a classmate in Speech Class at college doing it while his roommate recorded it; he did both Abbot and Costello, and that clip went all over the college (I still have a copy of it, come to think of it). Oh dear…is he still doing it?...
Scarlet Firesong, thanks for the review! Yes! *slides tissues over*
Johnny Spectre, thanks for the review! I don't know…."What do you mean someone's stealing my schtick?"
InkyTheInk, thanks for the review! I think you only have to understand baseball if you're interested in it—otherwise it can just be a sandlot game where you chase a ball around until it becomes Calvinball. Yes! Well, Blue Coal—which Gold Coal is a parody of—is/was apparently treated on-site to have its trademark blue color, so…only the Shadow knows….
Ardistornismyname, thanks for the review! Well, Misty is travelling with two guys of questionable maturity. Good question—perhaps we shall see….I'm going to have to figure that out and get back to you.
Keyper3, thanks for the review! I'm even later, apparently—I've never actually played Dark Souls, so that reference was purely by accident. XD
Thanks for the review, Guest! Well, as we saw in the Black/White games, the Pokémon world does have baseball, which is a lot easier to follow than Pokebase, to be fair. XD
InfernalFox, thanks for the review! I've had that problem too. :(
Yami-chan and Unrealistic, thanks for the review! Yes, kind of refreshing from how it's portrayed in the anime….Maybe Darkrai had baseball-fan-buddies. :D It must be frustrating for a lot of jobs in the Pokémon world, what with the Pokémon that do whatever (The Poképast here on FanFiction is a good example of Pokémon affecting 'normal' jobs). Thank you, glad you like it. :D
Thanks for the review, Guest! Actually, Houndour and Houndoom are native to Johto—the Dark type wasn't introduced until Gen II.
Thanks for the review, Guest! Yes indeed! Me too. D:
Vulaan Kulaas, thanks for the review! Thank you, I'm glad you like it! Yes…me too….*gets popcorn as well*
Blitza, thanks for the review! Thank you, glad you like it! :D
Thanks for the review, Guest! Maybe.
Cheese PuffXx, thanks for the review! Glad you love the story, but I'm sorry to hear that. Hope you're improving!
Pokémon © Game Freak; Nintendo
Coraline © 2009 Laika; Neil Gaiman (cats don't need names)
And now, for something completely different:
In other news, the captain of the S.S. Anne has been found and is currently in the hospital for his injuries. The Pokémon League would like to take a moment to remind you to leave the dispensing of justice to the police and the rangers. The Pokémon League does not condone vigilantism at this time.
The Rocket grunts at the Port Vista outpost seemed surprised to see them.
"All accounts said you were dead," one said.
"Yes, well, rumors of our death were greatly exaggerated," James said.
"Did anything good come of the S.S. Anne?" Jessie asked.
"Not really," one grunt said. "Honestly, it would have been better if you all drowned—the boss will be wanting to talk to you."
Eep.
They looked at each other, and James suddenly became very interested in his salt-coated shoes—they had been ducking and dodging the police and the rangers ever since hitting the shore, and they had been hoping for baths and a change of clothes upon arrival at the hideout.
Meowth wondered if he'd warrant a tie before he was cremated.
"Better get in there," one said, pointing to the booth. Closed door—oh boy.
This was it—their Ducklett was cooked.
They had sat in the booth for a good five minutes before Jessie finally said something.
"Now what?"
Meowth had no idea. None of them wanted to contact the boss with nothing to show for it but their sorry soggy hides.
"The boss ain't gonna be happy wid just us surviving," Meowth said. "We gotta have something to show for it. Besides a useless foodie Magikarp."
James slouched some more—
Before suddenly straightening.
"Wait—we do have something to show for the trip!" he said, excitedly dialing. "That Darkrai! We know where it is now!"
"Correction: we knew where it was," Jessie said.
"On the contrary, did you notice how it behaved towards that one twerp?" James asked as the phone rang. "If it's not his, then it's attached to him, which means it'll be following him." Here James looked at Meowth. "Right? You're the Pokémon expert."
Meowth considered this. "I…yes…dat Darkrai did seem pretty attached to the twerp wid da hat! Kept floating next to him and everyting!"
"Then it's settled—we find the twerp, who dollars to donuts is on his gym run, and we find that Darkrai."
It was then the phone picked up.
"This had better be good."
Eep.
As one, Jessie and Meowth looked to James; at least he hadn't fainted this time.
"Um, yes, this is Jessie, James, and Meowth," Jessie said.
"Oh, you." Tone reserved for describing Muk. "I heard you drowned."
"Well, no, and we're sorry to say that the S.S. Anne job is a bust."
"Funnily enough, I figured that out. Now why are you still talking?"
"Because!" James burst in, obviously trying not to sound frantic. "We found the Darkrai too, and we know where it'll be at any given time now!"
Silence.
"I would love to hear this explained," the boss said finally, voice dripping with sarcasm.
They exchanged glances before James launched into his explanation, not being quite as careful with his word choices as Jessie had been—James was like that.
"They arrived at Port Vista, and if we're right about them, their next stop will be Fuchsia City, since that's the closest one on the gym circuit," James concluded. "And considering how the Darkrai behaved around the one twerp, we're absolutely certain it'll be there with them."
Long silence.
"I see," the boss said finally, still in that dangerous tone. "And I don't suppose you got the name of said 'twerp,' did you?"
Eep—wait!
"Ash," Meowth hissed at Jessie and James. "I heard dem two gym leaders calling him Ash."
"Ash!" James said, jumping on the bone Meowth tossed. "Ash, should be in the Indigo League database right now—has a Pokédex and everything. And he's travelling with two gym leaders, Misty from Cerulean and Brock from Pewter, so we're sure he has at least two badges."
Long, painful silence.
"So it seems you three aren't worthless after all," the boss said finally. "Fine then. Keep me posted on every pertinent detail—current team level, location, everything. Understood? I want full reports hitting my desk every week."
"Yes sir!" they chimed immediately.
"Uh, wait," James said, causing Meowth to suck in a breath. "How are we going to do that if we're in the middle of nowhere tracking them?"
"You'll have Delibird's services," the boss said. "Any other stupid questions?"
"None whatsoever," Jessie said, elbowing James sharply. "Thank you, sir."
"Do not fail me."
Click.
It took a few long, painful moments before any of them exhaled.
When they did, giddy excitement took over.
"We're alive!" Meowth cheered.
"And all we gotta do is keep an eye on those twerps!" James said, hugging Jessie. "Talk about a cake assignment!"
Jessie bonked him on the head. "I think so too, but we're not taking any chances—we're getting a tracking device and putting it on that Darkrai."
"As soon as we find it," Meowth said, his jubilation suddenly crashing down. "As far as we know, dey're already at Fuschia! And after dat dere's a dozen other ways they could go!"
"Don't panic!" Jessie ordered. "We'll just—stake out Fuschia for a while, and then after that just follow the wake of traumatized Pokémon that Darkrai leaves. We'll catch up to it sooner or later."
"So we have a plan?" James asked.
"We have a plan!"
The three of them were jumping up and down and cheering upon exiting the booth, much to the consternation and probably disappointment of the nearby goons, but who cared!
Life was back on track!
Persian dozed lightly in his bed by the boss' desk, gold Level 100 medal glinting lightly as his breathing moved it up and down slightly. The others were miffed at the fact that they weren't battling on a regular basis anymore. Not Persian. Persian welcomed the opportunity to catch up on his lazing about.
Not that he wouldn't object if his boss ordered him into battle—Persian also welcomed the opportunity to use his opponents as a scratching post.
Persian also wondered if his boss would be ordering him to use whoever those three idiots were that he had on the 'phone' as a scratching post. Or better yet, to take care of them. Persian liked taking care of them—mostly because that meant free rein. Start with eating their smaller Pokémon, and then drag them and their larger Pokémon up to a tree fork like his species was known for and save them for later.
Sometimes he just felt sorry for those Meowth who lived in the city and stayed Meowth—they would never know the true glory of being a Persian, of being nearly a hundred pounds of rippling muscle and gleaming fur, sinuously stalking prey and then—
"Huh."
Persian's ear twitched. The phone conversation was over—this much was clear. This was also not how phone conversations usually ended. Usually, it would be either getting back to work or spending a few moments complaining to Persian about incompetent underlings. Persian usually feigned sleep during those times.
'Huh' was enough to get him to look up at his boss. 'Huh' was not a usual sound from him.
His boss was currently leaning back in his chair, a hand to his face, fingers splayed in that odd way that humans had—mostly because they lacked the much superior paw structure of Persian. His boss was also staring off in that way he had, where he wasn't looking at anything—the kind of thousand-yard stare that Persian had occasionally used to his advantage when it had struck a Psychic type or Clefairy.
Persian licked his lips at the thought. The humans might like Clefairy because they were rare, but Persian liked them because they were oh so tasty. But caught Pokémon were off limits unless Persian was allowed to take care of them, so the ones currently in their employ were safe. For now.
Persian had just about given up watching his boss for further action and was preparing to go on to more important things (like grooming) when his boss suddenly leaned forward. Rapid clicks told him his boss was messing about with that human 'computer' that sometimes smelled like Porygon. Ah, well, back to business—start licking, taking care that every strand of fur was just so.
The clicking stopped after a while, as did all noise. Persian recognized it as his boss' 'thinking silence.' Persian, meanwhile, kept grooming his luxurious fur—something would happen eventually.
Something did.
"Well well well," his boss said finally; Persian pricked his ears as he licked his paw pads, taking care that his claws were clean. "Delia, you might have mentioned that."
Persian didn't give that much thought—human names were like Persian names: entirely unnecessary. Persian knew all the important figures in his life, and didn't need names to identify them; he had been quite clear in instructing his boss about the futility of naming him. Why waste memory remembering a title when a few sniffs told him all he needed to know?
He sensed the fingers dipping down, moved his head so it was in just the right position to be petted properly. Ah, there was the spot.
"Well," his boss said, taking Persian's head in both hands and rubbing it just the way Persian liked it. "I suppose this ends up being a good day all around. The next time those idiots call—and unfortunately, they will—I'll tell them to keep an eye on the 'twerp with the hat' as well. Not only are we keeping track of a rare Pokémon and keeping those three out of my hair indefinitely, we're also keeping track of that kid. In all, I'd call it a pretty good day for Team Rocket, wouldn't you?"
Persian purred in response. This was why Persian had selected him to be his boss. It wasn't the head rubs or the bed or the good food he ate every day. It was the ever-present undercurrent of power and malice, that promised prey on a regular basis and fun while it happened. Such a pity that his boss seemed to be a Persian unfortunate enough to be stuck in a human body.
"Now," his boss said, getting eye-to-eye with him. "There's a few idiots that need taking care of. Hungry?"
Yes he was.