It's Monday today, you know what that means. It's accounting day. Yay. Enthusiasm aside, it is a very important day of the week in our little settlement we have here. A day in which berries get counted, the batteries get measured, reports get briefed, the normal stuff. But the most important assessment is that heads get counted with their status checked. Heads being pokemon, lots and lots of pokemon, specifically the eeveelutions. Now before anyone reading this gets any ideas about how 'rich' I am, they are not for sale. At least without their expressed permission, that is. Had to get used to the fact sapient beings here want to get sold, mainly for others in their pack to live more fulfilling lives. It's not like I have nothing to say about it, as I constantly screen any person who dares try to sway away any Mon to their team. In the last sentence, I sounded like an overprotective parent, didn't I? Ugh, being responsible is tiring.
Like any start of the day, I tried to shoo Abigail away from my bed. Failed miserably. Got my work clothes on, which were nothing but a pair of khakis, heavy boots, and a buttoned-up dress shirt. What? I like cotton, doesn't matter if star thistle gets caught on easily. I want to be comfortable, thank you. With the clipboard in hand, I waited at the entrance for Pablo to finish rounding the groups up. Not in a single file line, that would be stupid and annoying for everyone involved. Pablo merely gave the groups in designated areas a heads-up and asked them not to hide when I arrived for the assessment. Don't want to spend all day on a single group just because one pokemon is embarrassed about how dirty their coat is and becomes a no-show. You may think I'm being satirical. I'm not because it happened before, and thus it will happen again eventually. That's why I have Pablo make the quick rounds so the same mistake won't happen twice or more than I like.
As I went over my forms for the tenth time, I heard the pitter-patter of paws on deck planks. Pablo has arrived with ribbons sagging behind, panting, "Yl, vee" while gasping for more air. He must have raced Abigail while making the rounds again. I do worry as Pablo gets tired too easily, and it doesn't help when he gets goaded into her shenanigans, but I decided not to bring it up about messing around during the job. Although looking back at this point, I may have underestimated how spread out my land is, and I might have been too insensitive if I were to give Pablo a hard time about it. I really shouldn't care how he does it, as long he gets the job done. "Alright. Is everyone ready?" Once the meek Sylveon nodded, I walked straight outside, heading for the sentry base. I say it's a sentry base, but it's just a few trees and burrows in a grass field. I call it such because this is where my wanderers stay and rest.
As I approached the burrow closest to the tree line, three pink forms charged out of the forest and then simultaneously stopped in formation in front of me. Three female Sylveon that look practically identical even by my trained eye. They are triplets, but each can be distinguished by the different marks on their forms. One leading the pack has a torn feeler and face scar named Alda. One with burnt paws and underbelly is Borna. The last one has bleached patches on her fur and one of her ears, which was inflicted by most likely acid, that one is Clare. Due to their marks and the fact they took their job as guard mons with the utmost ferocity, I monikered them as the Sisters of Battle. Another reference to a media I held dear to my heart.
Now they lined up like soldiers awaiting my command. "Morning girls, anything exciting happened during your surveillance for the past week?" The pack leader Alda huffed at that question, basically cementing what I'd hoped for, which is 'nothing to note.' This is how she expressed her displeasure toward me while still technically telling me what I needed to know. "Okay, good job as usual. Make sure to tell me if anything changes as long it affects us severely." With that statement, Alda rolls her eyes yet nods in affirmation. She never wanted any platitudes or praise coming from me, the only thing she deems important is that her sisters have a place to live safely.
When I first met them, they were taking on an Agron of all things! Yet as I watched, the Sisters' battle style was almost seamless with each other's, making them monsters in a team matchup. For example, Borna attacks from behind or even on top of the opponent with Alda at the front, while Clare blocks the opposing attacks with Protect and Safeguard. As a unit, and as siblings, even a blind person can conclude that those Sisters are pretty tight-knit. The main sticking point for me is that they are more comfortable following the strongest female's orders. That means that they most likely follow Erza's orders instead of mine. Or, most horrifyingly, listen to Abigail's orders and take her seriously. I would be practically unprotected if not for one voice of authority and common sense superseding both Erza and Abigail, telling the Sisters my position is important to the greater pack. I will write about her later.
As I stared at the Sisters of Battle, I went through several checkmarks while questioning, "Any new Mon moving in?" Borna was a bit more helpful than Alda as she shook her head. I mumbled to myself, "Okay, that means no changes to the registry, that's good. Food might become a problem come winter. Hopefully, the harvest will have a big bumper this season. If not, I might have to call in for resupplies later to-DAYYYYYYYY!" My monolog was interrupted by an unsuspecting snare when I stepped a little to the right, sling-shooting me up near the willow tree. The snare was a clever use of Grass Knot on one of the willow branches, making it look like one of the leaves was hanging lower than usual. And the main perpetrators who I know would use such an offensive move for underhanded means were hiding behind the trunk.
"Syl-vee!" One of the offenders revealed in all his shiny glory, looking accomplished in his handiwork. That is until he saw me dangling instead of somemon else, most likely targeting Pablo. "Syl,ve-heh…" he said in a placating, 'just a prank, right?' manner, while he tried not to look into my disappointed deadpan. Alda tried to look unimpressed, hiding the growing smirk on her face. Borna looked like she was going to have a meltdown. While Clare is just Clare, looking at the situation while not fully paying attention. Then two more Sylveon come running out of the burrow, smack-jawed at the circumstance their compatriot put themselves in.
These male Sylveon are triplets as well, with each a bit different looks, not unlike the sisters. But instead of scars, their glaring visual differences are genetic. The shiny Sylveon with pink eyes and baby-blue fur is Prime, he is the Moe of these three stooges. The other two are Twain and Trey, both with heterochromia with one eye being purple instead of the usual blue. Twain has it in his left eye and Trey in his right eye, respectively. The three would have looked nearly identical if they had the same coat of paint. These guys are who I called Levi's Jackals, as they were the ones who followed Levi into this place even when they were still Eevees. The Brothers see Levi as a mentor or a leader somewhat.
Now, to my exasperation, I know they learned more than just Moves from Levi. But the main difference is that Levi subtly baits others at their own expense while staying cool about it. The brothers, on the other hand, take it a step further with physical pranks. It's even apparent in their battle style. Prime sets the stage with environmental hazards, Twain sets the debuffs while Trey sets the buffs. After the setup, they go bonkers, with Prime making decisive debilitating attacks like Foul Play and Grass Knot. Twain goads the enemy with Gowl and Telekinesis, I'll give you three guesses on who he learned that from. At the same time, Trey uses Skill-Swap or use Trailblaze to build up speed to Batton Pass later. Makes me jealous of their brotherly bond, as they are inseparable, like the Stooges of old or the Eds if you're a millennial. But for some reason, they barely prank the Sisters, maybe because the girls might kick their behinds all the way to Mount Cornet if they even slightly inconvenience the warrior trio. Still, I'm one of the victims of their bone-headed plans, me hanging on a tree by the leg is just a bit more overt than usual.
"Veon Syl?" Trey said in an optimistic yet unintendedly condescending way toward Prime, who now glowers at his double. Meanwhile, Pablo at the side was shouting "Syl-ve!" at the trio of misfits. Twain didn't help the situation as he stated matter-of-factly, "Ve on" toward the other two brothers. His eyes show a manic self-vindication as he shoves his brother Prime toward me, most likely to remind him that I WAS STILL HANGING ON THE DAMN TREE! I said nothing. I didn't even yell at them to get me down, as it would most likely scare them enough to high-tail out of there at Extreme Speed.
I just stared as Prime made a Swift to cut my leafy sling. And before my inner rage gets even more fuel by slamming my cranium into the dirt, I get caught by a weak Telekinesis by Twain. As I was plopped unceremoniously onto that sweet, sweet ground, I barely half paid attention to the placating manner of Prime spewing, "Syl-Sylvee!" For my response, I just smiled. Smiled like the devils whose hellfire continues to burn my ever-decreasing patience. "Cave diving this week." I only said those four words, then the Jackals had a momentary collective heart attack. Alda looked smug at that point, but that would not last. The Sisters of Battle have keen senses, so Alda knew of the snare before I got snatched, yet she didn't bother to tell me. Well. I guess I'm becoming full Sargent mode now. "YOU Girls are going to spot them while they do that." "Eon?!" Alda shouted, as now she had to watch over the three trouble magnets in caves that contain mostly the Zubat line. Prime now surprisingly had a look of contemplation, then stated with a "Sylveon" with a bit of a smirk. That got him a Tackle with a few ribbons hog-tying him up by face scared warrior.
As I moved away with Pablo, using my hand to brush the dirt off my pants, I looked back at the two triplets. Comparing both of them, they seem so similar yet different at the same time. The two triplets have the same job, which is guard duty. The Sisters take the day shift while the Bothers take the night. Both find themselves in the company of their siblings with such strong comradery that they sleep in the same den. One group of siblings bonded through hardship, if their scars have any indication, while the other group bonded over their shared passions and mentor. Casual pranks and untold violence aside, they are rather 'the same coin' pair, aren't they? Both triplets give each other hassle, but they also support each other.
There could be something more, as I didn't have the full context back then. I was not there personally when the Brothers evolved into Sylveons, but I saw them walking just behind the Sisters while they looked like they got into a huge battle. I asked what happened, but all I got were side glances and embarrassment from both parties. I didn't fully prod as it was late, and I wanted to sleep off the fact I'd gained three more Sylveon. What happened between them, I didn't bother, but at least they got out relatively safe.
Anyway, the headcount went smoothly like any other week, and I just noticed I only wrote mainly about the siblings. That's what I get for hyper-focusing on subjects, but I will write a more detailed survey later, Lucas would definitely appreciate that. Just hope I don't go into too much detail, or else Rowen would think I'm competent enough for an engaging conversation that would last hours. Or days. Not freaking happening, you old geezer.