The Platinum Plated Life Of Mars
Chapter 1
Life had been tough for Mars these past few months.
While she had made good on her vow to quit Team Galactic, Mars had quickly come to realise that doing so may have been a short term gain, long term loss. Her search for Master Cyrus had not yielded anything close to the desired result; if anything, people tended to look at her funny when she asked them if they knew where this alleged 'Distortion World' was. Having trekked from one end of Sinnoh to the other trying to find this supposed realm where the person she had foolishly and unknowingly let herself be manipulated into revering was supposedly last sighted had been a taxing journey, both in regards to her stamina… and her wallet. Mars had all but exhausted her funds; turning her back on Team Galactic had, of course, cut her off from a steady and generous income, which was something she hadn't even thought about until it was already far too late, and now, she was down to her last five thousand Poké and needed to make every unit count; in an economy where a mere envelope cost no less than fifty units of currency, she couldn't afford to go on a spending spree with what little she had, not least because it was likely all she would have for the foreseeable future.
No one would hire Mars. Why would they? She was a known criminal who had once played a big part in terrorising the Sinnoh region in pursuit of a power that could rewrite the laws of time and space… which was a fancy way of saying that it could destroy the universe as it was known. It was a wonder that she hadn't been arrested yet, though she had her suspicions as to why that was. So infamous was the former Galactic Commander, so loathed and despised was she, that it seemed that the police were waiting for her to turn herself in, knowing that she would ultimately have nowhere else to go, no one to offer her sanctuary, once her money ran out. The police wanted her to come running to them, to beg like a Growlithe puppy for anything close to mercy.
People on the streets gave her filthy looks. Poké Mart clerks would do their damnedest to ignore her when she came to the checkout. Teenagers would throw empty Soda Pop cans at her when they rode by on their bicycles. Even Nurse Joy, who prided herself on being welcoming to everyone, would scarcely meet Mars' eyes when she brought her Pokémon into the Pokémon Centre to be healed.
Her Pokémon. They were the only ones who were worse off than Mars herself, as far as she was concerned. Her Bronzong had developed rust on its once pristine metallic turquoise surface. Her Golbat had grown noticeably dishevelled from a lack of necessary blood in its diet. It was her Purugly, however, that had paid the ultimate price.
One evening, out in the cold and wet of a night of torrential rainfall, Mars had dared to brave the wilds of Route 208, defying the storm in search of Pokémon Trainers, in desperate search of a means of quick cash. She'd found one - an Ace Trainer with that distinct orange jacket and that vibrant green, shoulder length hair, taking refuge from the storm beneath a rocky overhang at the edge of Mt. Coronet. The green-haired girl had been somewhat aghast to see Mars out there, soaked to the skin and not at all dressed for the weather, the former Commander having been wearing a dark grey hoodie and matching cotton jeans, both visibly torn in several places and looking as though they were overdue for a go-around in the nearest mashing machine. Mars had challenged the more experienced survivalist to a Pokémon battle, absolutely refusing to take no for an answer despite the far less than ideal circumstances. All of Mars' Pokémon had been pushed to their limits in the ensuing battle, not least because of the bad weather… but when Mars had unleashed her Purugly from it's Poké Ball for the second time, having switched it out in favour of Bronzong earlier in the battle, disaster had struck - literally.
Already sopping wet and having taken not one, but two fierce blows from the Ace Trainer's Tauros before, Purugly could barely stand upright as the harsh storm raged fiercely around it, thunder rumbling in the distance. Mars had shouted some encouraging words at the Tiger Cat Pokémon (if you can call telling the feline to 'get a grip' encouraging), the Normal type had developed a battle-ready stance in spite of itself…
…And then a bolt of lightning had come crashing down from the sky directly onto Purugly, striking the feline and sending a tremendous excess of electrical energy coursing through its body, resulting in the Pokémon keeling over and fainting in an instant.
Mars could still remember the horror she had felt in that moment. She could still vividly remember the sight of her Purugly lying face down in the mud, unmoving. She had loved that Pokémon more than anything, even if she had never admitted such even to herself… and all of a sudden, her closest friend, perhaps only real friend, had been in a critical condition and in desperate need of help.
The Ace Trainer, equally as horrified by the turn of events, had escorted Mars to the nearest Pokémon Centre, which happened to be in Hearthome City. Mars hadn't even bothered to ask the Ace Trainer if they'd had any Potions on them; it would take more than a Max Revive or a Full Restore to enable recovery from something as devastating as a natural lightning strike. Nurse Joy had been bewildered when the two young women had burst in after midnight, absolutely drenched with rain water and looking most distraught, the crimson-haired woman especially.
Nurse Joy had worked fervently through the night with the aid of her Chansey companions, doing everything they could to help Mars' Purugly recover from its critical condition, and it had indeed been critical; by the time Mars and the Ace Trainer had brought the Tiger Cat Pokémon in, it was barely breathing, and when Nurse Joy hooked the Normal type up to a heart monitor, the readings were bad, the device's beeping very rapid - not far off from that continuous, unending beep that would signify that all hope was lost. The Ace Trainer had stayed with Mars in the waiting room all the while, doing what little she could to try and comfort the crimson-haired woman while also trying not to lose her own composure - neither of which was an easy task. Finally, Nurse Joy had called Mars into the operating room, informing the former admin of Team Galactic of some matters most grim as she had done so:
"Purugly's condition is… not good," the nurse had told Mars quietly while guiding her down the corridor, the medical professional's words dull and very serious. "It's internal organs were severely damaged by the lightning bolt. It's nothing short of a miracle that it's even conscious at the moment… and I don't think it will be for much longer. It may have already passed in the time it took me to fetch y—"
Mars hadn't waited to hear the end of Nurse Joy's sentence, instead having broken into a run, reaching the operating room ahead of the nurse and bursting through the double doors, panic surging through every fibre of her being. When she saw her Purugly lying on its side on that stretcher, all those medical tubes and wires connected to it, everything had seemed to stop.
With a weak meow, Purugly had tried to lift its head, recognising its Trainer through weak, hazy eyes… and then Mars was at its side, gently stroking the fur on the Pokémon's head, tears streaming down her face.
"I'm sorry," she had managed quietly in a choked sob, screwing her leaking eyes shut. "This is all my fault. I never should have—!"
"Raow!" Purugly had mewed surprisingly harshly. Mars had gasped, her eyes flying open in time to see Purugly's front left paw meeting her fingers, the Pokémon's appendage resting atop her hand. "Raow…" it had gone on more softly, more reassuringly. Mars had sniffled, understanding completely, putting on a weak smile in spite of herself. There was nothing that needed to be said. All that mattered what that they were together in her beloved Pokémon's final moments.
Mars had carefully taken hold of Purugly's paw and given it a firm yet gentle squeeze, smiling down at her oldest friend with watery eyes. Purugly had smiled back… and then it had slowly closed its eyes and remained still, the nearby heart monitor signifying that it was gone.
Purugly… was no more.
Whatever her thoughts towards Mars and her past exploits may have been, Nurse Joy had made sure to accomodate the former Commander that night, providing her with warm, dry clothes and a bed for the night, ensuring that the crimson-haired woman ate a good breakfast the following morning in the Centre's lobby before returning her newly healed Bronzong and Golbat to her, the nurse finally sending Mars on her way with her sincerest condolences.
Seeing that tray on the Centre's counter, fresh out of the oven-like healing machine… Seeing those two Poké Balls on the tray where there should have been three, where there would have been three if only Mars hadn't been so reckless, had nearly caused her to break down into tears all over again. When she had woken that morning, Mars had wanted so desperately, so dearly to believe that the whole ordeal had been little more than a bad dream, that all three of her Pokémon awaited her at the counter once she had finished her breakfast. She knew in her heart, her broken heart that this wasn't going to be the case, but as was so often said, denial was the first stage of grief…
It had now been five weeks since Purugly's passing. Mars still had its Poké Ball - its red and white, currently minimised and distinctly empty Poké Ball. She held it in her hand as she sat upon a lone bench in one of the less travelled streets of Hearthome City, turning it over, examining every detail of it: The small chip at the top, the scratch along the bottom where Purugly had once clawed at the capsule while in an uppity mood, that faint smell of cat fur that emanated from the device…
Mars enlarged the ball, priming it to be thrown. She raised her arm, wanting to delude herself one last time, to proclaim "Go, Purugly!" and throw the ball forward, hoping against false hope that her beloved Pokémon would emerge in a bright flash of light to stand before her on the pavement, letting out that raspy, guttural meow that Mars missed hearing so dearly, that she would give anything to hear just one more time… but in the end, she lowered her quivering arm and screwed her eyes shut, tears already streaming from them. She allowed herself several long moments of soft weeping, her whole body trembling all the while… and then she wiped her eyes, letting out a sad sniff as she did so, and got to her feet, a firm expression on her face. Crying wasn't going to bring Purugly back. Nothing could do that now. She'd spent enough time grieving. It was time to move on.
After all, she still had two other Pokémon with mouths to feed.
Mars hadn't given much thought to her Bronzong and Golbat since Purugly's passing. In truth, she had never given them much thought compared to Purugly; they had been issued to her by Team Galactic during her first day on the job, back when they were an un-evolved Bronzor and Zubat respectively, and they had been little more than Pokémon that fought on her behalf ever since, serving as backup for the Glameow that would later become Purugly first and foremost. Oh, Mars fed them, let them out of their capsules to stretch their legs or wings or whatever in the mornings and evenings… but she had only really ever seen them as tools of the trade… until now.
Mars sighed as she reached into the pocket of her navy blue jeans, which Nurse Joy had been kind enough to let her keep along with the mahogany red hoodie that she now wore. Mars had quickly grown attached to this hoodie. The soft, warm fabric, the colour that… well, almost matched her hair…
She just wished that Purugly was here to enjoy it with her. Unlike her other hoodie, the faded grey one that she kept as part of what was currently her only other set of clothes, there was no lingering smell of cat on this new one. There had initially been a faint floral fragrance present on the mahogany hoodie - no doubt from whatever brand of fabric softener Nurse Joy had used on it before gifting it to Mars. It had smelled quite lovely and had offered Mars a very, very small sense of comfort through her grieving at first… but that fragrance had long since faded, and even at its strongest, the scent of orchids couldn't soothe and reassure Mars the way Purugly's lingering odour on her other hoodie did, and even that was starting to fade. In fact, the grey outfit itself was starting to fade; too many rips and tears, threads coming loose, and it was starting to smell a little bit mouldy.
Mars couldn't go to the local laundromat as often as was ideal, given her limited budget, so she only washed whichever set of clothes she wasn't wearing once a week, if that, and the grey hoodie and matching jeans were, she strongly suspected, on their way out. They'd be glorified rags before long, and for as down on her luck as she had been as of late, Mars wasn't quite at the point where she was willing to wear rags if she could avoid it. She'd managed to rent a very cheap, single room apartment near the edge of the city, but even that little room, with its lone, hard bed, its closet with a rusty handle and a lock that didn't work, and no connecting bathroom or even a toilet, wouldn't last her forever; if she didn't find a paying job within the next couple of weeks, she would be down to wearing rags… and possibly sleeping under bridges. The thought made her skin crawl, both with disdain at the idea of a former Team Galactic elite having to stoop to squatting under a bridge like some sort of wild Pokémon… and fear at the prospect of waking up after doing so to potentially find several Spinarak having made themselves at home upon her sleeping form, webs and all. Mars was very much an arachnophobe, and while Spinarak were not the biggest of spider Pokémon, she wasn't exactly chomping at the bit to have a run-in with one, let alone an entire nest's worth.
Mars minimised Purugly's Poké Ball once more as she slid it into her waiting jeans pocket and pulled out the two remaining Poké Balls, soon finding herself staring at them intently. Golbat and Bronzong couldn't replace Purugly, not in a million years... but they were all Mars had now. If there was ever a time to start appreciating them, it was now. With that in mind, she enlarged the two red and white orbs and, exhaling deeply, tossed them into the air.
"Gol!" Golbat cried as it emerged in a flash of light, already airborne and flapping its wings furiously, still looking as malnourished as it had the day before… and the day before that… and the day before that.
"Zong," Bronzong droned monotonously as it appeared, inexplicably hovering in the air without any apparent means of aviation. Its teal surface was noticeably faded and, much like Purugly's Poké Ball, chipped in a couple of places. They noticed their Trainer standing before them and focused their attention on her, watching the crimson-haired young woman expectantly.
"Travel in stride with me," Mars told the two of them in the same curt tone that she typically addressed them with. She then averted her gaze for a moment, her forced expression of firmness faltering, a pang of guilt mixing with the loneliness that she was already feeling.. "I… I'd rather not be alone right now."
Bronzong and Golbat glanced at each other uncertainly. Ever since Purugly's passing, Mars had been very distant from her remaining Pokémon - even more so than usual. She'd still fed them, let them out for exercise and all of that as normal, but she hadn't barked a single command at them. In fact, she had barely even acknowledged their presence for the last few weeks. Most notably, she hadn't even tried to put on a brave face in front of them throughout her grieving, openly weeping and sobbing before them, though when the Poison/Flying type and the Steel/Psychic type had tried to console her, to demonstrate their longstanding loyalty to her by being there for her in her time of need, she'd acted as though they weren't even there. Mars had spent the last month or so isolating herself from the world around her, locking herself in her cramped apartment and only leaving it when absolutely necessary, and her Pokémon, despite having never been treated as anything other than fighters by Mars, had started to grow worried for her. Curt and reserved or not, Mars was the one who kept them fed and sheltered, who gave them purpose and a home of sorts; Poké Balls weren't exactly a vast, sprawling wilderness on the inside, but they were a sanctuary from the dangers of the outside world, and when worn on a Trainer's belt or kept in the pockets of a Trainer's leg wear, they could offer a certain sense of comfort. Trained Pokémon typically liked to be close to their Trainers, after all, and in that regard, a little could go a long way. In short, though Mars had never quite been outwardly friendly with Bronzong and Golbat, there was still a certain unspoken sense of… well, something that they all mutually shared, something that had kept them together as a team for all this time, something beyond obligation.
There was something to their unity beyond obligation… right?
Mars sighed, noticing the uncertainty that her Pokémon were openly showing. "Look, I… I know that we've never been especially close, you two and I, but…" She sighed again. "You know what? Actions speak louder than words, so walk with me as a means of action… and I will respond in kind."
That sounded a bit more like the Mars they were used to taking orders from, and in times of uncertainty, it was best to go with what you knew. To that end, Golbat took its place on Mars' left, fluttering just above her shoulder, while Bronzong moved to float on Mars' right, droning out its own name once it was in position. The tiniest of reassured smiles graced Mars' lips… and then her usual curt scowl returned and she started forward at a slow pace, just taking her time, enabling her Pokémon to keep up easily. She didn't have anywhere to be, and she didn't particularly want to go to any specific place; she just wanted to walk wherever her feet might take her, so long as she had company along the way, for that was all that mattered to her right now.
After a while, Mars and her Pokémon found themselves walking down a more familiar, more populated street, the former Commander's hands in her pockets, her right hand brushing against Purugly's empty Poké Ball, her chest and stomach twinging every time her fingers met its surface. A part of her wanted to throw the now defunct capsule away, to forget that the loss of her beloved Pokémon companion had ever happened, to forget that Purugly had ever existed… but then she silently chastised herself. To want to forget Purugly, to want to forget just how much the Tiger Cat Pokémon had meant to her just to ease her own pain was selfish. Despicably selfish, and Mars really didn't need another example of despicable behaviour on the proverbial resumé of her life; she'd done enough despicable things already. Too many, in fact.
How many Pokémon had she stolen from innocent Trainers, from innocent kids in the name of furthering Team Galactic's goals, in the name of a man who had wanted to recreate existence in his own image? Mars had always fervently believed in Master Cyrus' new world, his perfect world… but would it really have been perfect?
Ever since she had joined Team Galactic, Mars had found herself having to deal with one thing after another - the insufferable arrogance of her fellow Commanders Saturn and Jupiter, the baffling ineptitude of the Galactic grunts that she herself had ordered around, those meddling brats in the red hat and white beanie respectively who had gotten in her way at what had seemed like every turn… Her frustrations had finally reached a boiling point and led her to unceremoniously quit Team Galactic, but even then, she had aspired to find her missing mentor.
The missing mentor who evidently couldn't be bothered to come out of wherever he was hiding. The missing mentor who evidently didn't want to be found.
The missing mentor who had inspired her to embark on a desperate and ultimately futile search out of loyalty to him - a search that had ultimately resulted in Mars becoming poverty stricken, complete with a deceased Pokémon on her hands. A Pokémon that had meant more to her than even she herself ever had.
If the new world that Master Cyrus had intended to create was so 'perfect', then why had it required so much suffering on Mars' part to potentially achieve? She had suffered through every trial thrown at her, every task given to her, and for what? To ultimately be poverty stricken, to be left with one Pokémon fewer than what she'd started out with?
Yeah, the more she dwelled in Cyrus' perfect world as she walked, Bronzong and Golbat keeping in stride, the more Mars started to realise that it had been a pipe dream - a false promise of something greater, a false promise made to her by a man who, for all of her reverence of him, for all of his ambition and inspirational speaking… hadn't been able to make good on that promise.
Cyrus hadn't delivered the goods, and he had ultimately fled into the unknown, leaving Mars and her cohorts to pick up the pieces, to fend for themselves. Saturn may have taken over as the new head of Team Galactic with vows to redeem the organisation in the public's eye, but Mars, Jupiter and Charon hadn't wanted redemption. They had wanted what they had always been promised: Prosperity, and after a failed attempt at obtaining such courtesy of Charon's ill-fated scheme at Stark Mountain, Mars and Jupiter had both quit the organisation and gone their seperate ways. The rest, as they say, was history, and history had sure led Mars to one hell of a position in life: Hated by the general public, poverty stricken with rapidly dwindling finances, forced to wear smelly, tattered clothes, responsible for two hungry Pokémon and the death of a third… All of this was thanks to that promise of prosperity, that promise of a new and better world that she herself would have a hand in creating.
A world that, she could see now, was never going to become a reality even in the best case scenario.
Whatever manner of world Cyrus had sought to create, it had clearly been meant to cater to his wants and needs and his alone. If it had been meant for Mars and the other Commanders as well, then they'd all be standing at his side right now, perhaps standing atop a cliff face overlooking a beautiful landscape, gazing out upon the world that they would've created together. A better world. A prosperous world. A perfect world.
They weren't at Cyrus' side, however. They had all parted ways in the wake of his ongoing absence and, with the possible exception of Saturn, were all worse off for such. Charon was in prison, Jupiter had managed to disappear as completely as Cyrus himself, and Mars was just… Well, she was living the dream, you only needed to gaze upon her to see that. A perfect world indeed. More like a fitting outcome for someone who had let herself become a criminal based on a false promise - nay, based on a lie.
Mars' whole adult life had been a lie, and now, the truth had caught up with her. She removed her hand from her pocket and clenched both fists, gritting her teeth. She had nothing other than her two remaining Pokémon. She was nothing other than an infamous criminal who was shunned by society. She had been reduced to nothing because she had let some charismatic schmuck convince her that she could be something greater, something more than just an ordinary person growing up in pursuit of an ordinary life. An ordinary life that she would be far past lucky to have at this stage.
"Never again."
Golbat and Bronzong halted in mid-air, turning to glance at Mars, who had stopped in place, her whole body trembling, her face a mask of rage, a dangerous look in her eye.
"Never again!" she repeated. "I won't let anyone manipulate me like that ever again! I'm through chasing after that man based on a few persuasive words he once said to me! Master Cyrus…" She spat onto the pavement before her. "Some 'master' you turned out to be! More like a false prophet!"
"Gol?" Golbat asked quietly, addressing Bronzong, who responded with a nondescript gesture that may have been a shrug; it was hard to tell based on the Bronze Bell Pokémon's presence as a floating automaton that couldn't move any part of its body independently from the rest.
"From now on, I'm doing things my way!" Mars declared in a soft hiss. She then turned, gazing up at the small, domestic-looking building she had come to a halt in front of, seeing a 'Help Wanted' sign in the window. "And it starts with me taking initiative and asserting myself." On that note, she marched up to the front door of the Poffin House, flung it open and stepped inside in one fluid motion, the door swinging shut with a slam behind her and her entourage.