The only thing separating our universe and a universe of unconstrained chaos is comparable to a thin sheet of plexiglass (if such a thing exists in the tumultuous universe). And so Akari was a dead girl the moment the almighty turned and set its eyes on her and realised this plexiglass was permeable to its divine power, though not without effort.
Tearing someone from their own universe is not a delicate operation, and because there was no such precedent for it, and accounting for how fragile the flesh of man-things was, the almighty in its wisdom settled for as safe a passage it could devise for the mortal shell, and deigned to more or less shatter a hole in the plexiglass. Leaving such an exit wound was clumsy and required all of its divine might for even such a botched job. Its power did not exert itself to this orderly mundane world of ours, and encroaching beyond its dominion would exhaust even all-powerful creators of all of conscious existence.
The less than graceful infringement upon that which it does not preside over, the patchwork repair of the plexiglass and the Almighty's scrounging up of Akari leads to a few conclusions: It is desperate. It cares not for the wills of humans. It, while working for the benefit of its entire universe, is callous to that which it tore from her homeland.
It, as all creators of everything and everyone, falls into the same fallacy that lets it govern harshly for the benefit of many. It does not assume she will disobey or rebel her Lord, for it knows this was the best option at hand for fixing the issues tearing its dominion apart. It, while not being a wrathful deity, is one so all powerful it exists quite beyond human concepts such as 'sovereignty'.
Speak it does to the small, frail creature it welcomes into its realm located beyond both time and space: 'wel y-cummen to myn own relym locallede ful beyyon tyme and space.' A good introduction, it thinks. This place was indeed beyond reproach from its lesser creations.
'Et ist welle th't thou arte heer' it truly was, as even the almighty did not know if it could successfully exert power over a being not of its own creation.
Ah, but just by saying that which it is not, namely the beings of time and space, it does not let her know what it is. "Ic art that whych myne owen hymannes dyne Arceus". That about covers everything. But to abide all introduction etiquette it would need to inform her of its intentions, and their relation. "Soune thou shalte fynd thinesylf inne ai wourld strangye to thee"
Since it would take a while to recover from the ordeal of tearing through the plexiglass, and to test the merit of its chosen one to help it abate the cracks in its universe, it shall set her to a task of worthy proportions:
'Syeek oot ful al pokemon that I frystly sette thee to than yow schal fynden me oynce agan'
The almighty then thought- it is no real use telling her to find me once again if I don't have a psychical form for her to find. Terrible etiquette it thinks, not having a physical form during a conversation with a vessel of mortal flesh. Coalescing its 'presence' that stretches beyond all of mortal time and space or indeed even understanding was impossible. It decides to imbue one of its million arms with mortal flesh. So then light begins to spark, gathering around it until it can call upon its usual material body. To this abrupt light the girl startles.
It is then the little creature loses grip of an object thus far cradled in her hand. The almighty can't help but feel an uncontrollable swell of love for its creations, for humans, once it sees what that object is. It seems even across universes humans, even humans it had no hands in creating, are the same everywhere. With all the power of the most venerated creation and the ability to shape the world, humans choose their most treasured object to be one that connects them to others across time and space. Humans were aggressively social and their chiefest technology that links them together is what had fallen from the small creature's grasp.
The almighty feels the urge to draw this object close. It could help it reach this young being without much divine power. So as such it imbues the object with divine light. Now to let its chosen into the world it had stooped to create. She shall sort out the fissures its lessers had left unstable. Their frenzy tore the sky asunder, which let it gently navigate her into its own world, without the need to create new wounds. There. That should make for a more pleasant departure.
Akari awoke to falling. No, not the type she got sometimes when snapped awake in bed convinced she'd just fallen from somewhere up high. She woke up from a distressing dream where she was in a dark void as an indescribable echoed voice spoke to her, the meaning of the words were legible but the way of speaking left her frustrated and confused. Her ears were filled with roaring and she struggled to open her eyes against the strange pressure. She wishes she hadn't. She looks up. She sees the ground above her, fast approaching. Screaming, Akari screws her eyes shut, unwilling to see the precise moment she hits the ground and dies. She braces for impact uselessly, sure that she was going to feel the breaking and tearing of bones and muscles any second now. The collision doesn't come.
For several tense and terrified heartbeats Akari doesn't dare open her eyes. The wind screaming past her is replaced by her own blood frantically pumping in her ears. She can't hear anything, and her eyes are still clenched shut, but she feels a strange rough texture underneath her. She heard a muffled yelling above her, and despite the lingering vertigo she knew she should get up.
"Wake up!" The voice can barely be made out.
Opening her eyes blearily, Akari sees that she's lying on sand and three figures are encroaching on her space. Oh cool. So she did die. She died horribly when she hit the ground, probably snapping her neck in a horrifically gruesome way. She reaches this conclusion because as she comes to her senses she recognises one of the figures. That's a fucking Cyndaquil. She died and her dying mind is showing her Pokemon in her final moments of conscious existence.
"Are you alright, dear?" There's definitely speaking. She doubts even her mind would make the Pokemon talk in a British mans voice. Levering herself up she notes in surprise she kinda recognises one of the other two Pokemon, that being Oshawott. She can't recall knowing about the little owl….. thing. Shes surprised her mind could make up a Pokemon wholesale in her final moments before eternal nothingness. The wonders of the human brain, huh?
The girl stifles a yelp when a hand on her arm helps her upright. Okay. That felt weirdly solid for an end-of-consciousness dream. Jerking her eyes away for the maybe (?) Pokemon she looks up to see a tall, tawny brown skinned man in the strangest assembly of clothes. In a white lab looking overcoat, blazer and bowtie he'd be respectable if odd, but add the black with yellow striped trousers and a massive knitted hat and you get something approaching a dark academia aesthetic mid identity crisis. What sort of weather or job was this appropriate for?
Akari knew she was stalling. She was staving off a breakdown by making fun of a strangers' appearance so she didn't have to deal with her likely demise.
"Oh thank goodness you're alright! I'm too young for a cardiovascular event, which I nearly had seeing you fall from the sky. You landed in the water though, so you seem unharmed!"
…..She landed in the water? She fell from the sky wa-wait wait what? That should have killed her! Did he not know about water density? Or surface tension or whatever the fuck kills you when you hit water at 1 million miles an hour?
"Who are you? Where am I?" She took the time now to look around.
"This is prelude beach, right by Jubilife Village. I am Professor Laventon. I was chasing after these here lovely Pokemon when you-" He gestures to the sky and makes a downwards motion. Okay, so he also called them Pokemon. Cool. This random guy is validating her dying hallucination.
"What's your name dear? These three are Cyndaquill, Oshawott and Rowlett" He says, pointing to each Pokemon respectively who perk up at their names.
"I'm Akari…" She trails off as the three little guys each bark out a sound, before turning tail and scampering off with a speed she didn't expect from three tiny little things like them.
"Oh blast it!" The professor doesn't actually seem all that het up, as he jogs after them, calling back to her-
"Akari! Terribly sorry my girl, could you help me round up these three? I beg of you!" Then he's gone.
What the fuck. She remembers a void and light, then falling at terminal velocity. In a dazed state she follows where the professor ran off to, a path tracked into the grass guiding her way.
Slowly trudging after the man, her head swivels around, surveying the beach. A glint of light catches her eye, and drawing closer she sees…. her phone? The screen is black and as she picks it up a message appears on screen- 'Thy syent taske frym the lorde douth naught yor creaytur ist thuse: in worold wocun seeyke oot alle myne creecures, an thou shalt fynd ic once moore' 0/?
What the fuck does that mean? What language is this in? Pocketing it for now she shakes her head, jogging after the professor. She can resolve that text later. She sees the professor up ahead, throwing a round object at the Oshawott and missing the monster by a country mile. The next two shots also miss the barely moving Pokemon by a wide margin. Huh.
"Oh Akari! Sorry you had to see that" As he talks the Oshawott toddles up to her, sniffing her leg before darting off. She shivers; that felt way too real.
"I'm trying to catch these three, but I've not got the best throwing arm…. Do you want to give it a go?" Give it a go with what? What was he trying to lob at these little monsters… she trails off as he starts up a lecture-esque speech-
"That little one who just sniffed you is Oshawott as you know, they have several layers of waterproof fur that can trap enough air to keep it buoyant permanently, allowing it to sleep without worry in the middle of any body of water, though they seem to prefer salt water! Each Oshawott takes deep pride in finding a shell of their own that they can sharpen and use to battle with."
He then turns to the owl, who had just taken off and settled in the tree with a single flap of its wings. "That there is Rowlet, they has some sort of cell in its feathers that allow it to draw energy from the sun the way a plant does. Of course this process is much less efficient than a proper plant due to their lack of roots taking in vitamins and water, plus the amount of energy they need to expend for their movements, so they still consume food! Their feathers are razor sharp, and can cause some serious trauma so be careful my girl!"
Does he not realise how insane that sounds? An animal that had chlorophyll in its feathers, to a degree that let it photosynthesise?
Finally, a burst of light draws their attention as Cyndaquil, the only of the three she recognised fully, had ignited the burner of flames on its back.
"And lastly there's Cyndaquil. The fire on their back is seemingly connected to their emotional state as opposed to physiological actions, though excitement and surprise do both trigger a physiological response I suppose…. though they can also produce fire internally, so their insides must be made of something rather flame proof, and their skin is practically immune to fire!"
He grins down at Akari, marvelling the young lady who seemed to be listening with a simplicity natural to her age.
"Ah, here. These are Pokeballs. While fairly controversial, I can assure you my girl after thorough research we have shown that a Pokemon has to be willing, or at least impartial to be 'caught' in one of these. While all Pokemon can and will shrink down to pure formless energy once in contact with a Pokeball, the choice of staying within one is entirely reliant on the Pokemon, though several factors do influence this choice such as the iteration of Pokeball as well as the health of the Pokemon one wishes to catch. Though usually the health argument is refuted by saying it is a coldly logical decision if a Pokemon sees that your own strength far surpasses it, it is more likely to submit…."
He trails off, seeing the teens lost expression.
"Never mind my girl, we can go into theory later. How about you give it a go? Just pitch the ball as squarely as you can into the Pokemon." With that he hands her a stack of Pokeballs cocooned inside each other for ease of storage she supposes.
Having no other option at her disposal, she turns to the little Oshawott who had begun to float in the shallow pool by the tree Rowlet had posted up in. Separating a ball from her pile, she stares down despondently at the little otter. She's about to peg an otter in the face with a ball. Glancing back at the prof, his unworried attitude leaves her hesitancy a bit calmed. Hefting it back in her pitching arm, she lets the ball fly and as it makes contact with the little otter she sees absolute lunacy.
The thing dissolves into bright light and within a second disappears into the ball, which hinges shut with a snap. A second or two of stupefied silence passes before the ball gives a rattle and floats still on the water.
"Well done my girl! A scientific intuition that paid off, I knew you'd be a natural at this. Go pick up the ball and round up the other two rascals if you will?"
In shock she approaches the ball. Picking it gingerly out of the water, she tests the weight and finds it no heavier than before. Where did the otter go? Is it truly in this tiny thing, she thinks as she absently flips the latch open. Akari drops the ball with a yelp as Oshawott materialises on the ground next to her, barking happily. Leaning down to cautiously pet it, she snaps the ball shut again and with the same burst of white light it disappears. Lunacy.
In vain she tries to rationalise this phenomenon but being not at all gifted with metaphysics she can't make heads or tails of it. A hoot from above draws her incredulous gaze. With an unaffected dignity borne of shock she strikes the second of gods' little tribulations and it similarly disappears within the ball, which unhurriedly falls to the ground.
She recognises plainly that this is the mechanism that allows the entire series to function- without the Pokeballs the entire concept of a 'pocket monster' is defunct, but nevertheless it is still surreal to see it in person.
With the sun agreeably beating down from above, the slight girl is beset by nostalgia as she beholds little Cyndaquil. While not her first Pokemon ever, her childhood love for Soul Silver holds strong, it is still quite dear to her heart. This one is also the only Pokemon that seems actively dangerous, if only by virtue of the wreath of flames on its spine. Perhaps nostalgia softens her throw, or perhaps Cyndaquil was the most spirited of them all, but when she goes to pick up its ball she has to fall back ignobly with a shriek as the mechanism snaps in half at the hinge- ruining the ball and releasing the creature inside. Cyndaquil seems to laugh at her reaction, as far as its rodent features allow it to laugh.
"Ah! I'm sorry I did not warn you about that my girl. Yes, as I was explaining- the Pokemon has to essentially agree to be caught. Its even more difficult vis-à-vis, since Pokeballs are such a recent phenomenon many wild Pokemon don't treat being caught unexpectedly- say from the back, as they do once they sense a human presence. Give it another try dear I'm sure he's just being stubborn."
So Cyndaquil was a lil guy. Good to know. She looks at the two shells of the Pokeball on the ground but they are cracked beyond repair. Okay so a Pokeball wasn't a guaranteed catch, just like the games. Seeing as the fire rodent had not run far, she hefts another ball in his direction and waits sensibly till it stops shaking with a satisfying 'click!' before swiping it up.
She approaches the philosopher, absently rolling about Cyndaquil's ball in her hand. Maybe she had actually hit the ground and was now suffering from brain damage but the cheeky defiant attitude and the real and present danger, however minor, drew her to this Pokemon in particular. She was reluctant to hand his ball back and kept it till last but-
They weren't her Pokemon.
Heart aching for some unknown reason, she lets Cyndaquil's ball fall out of her hand eventually, while the professor holds a sermon on how mysterious and little-understood Pokemon are. One part does cut through the static however.
-nd you wouldn't even know how many people wouldn't bear to even approach a Pokemon, let alone catch one! But you managed just fine didn't you my girl! You know back in the early 13th century, way before our current modern Galarian so the texts do require some translation, Pokemon were so feared routine hunts formed? Mobs would gather and raze the habitats of Pokemon for no good reason! What a primitive world, not even trying to understand these marvellous creatures. The most popular manuscript from the 'Pokemon Decimation' era is one titled-"
She zones out again, mind furiously trying to process what the good scientist just said. People feared Pokemon? To such an extent that they would hunt them in mobs? She recalls the small football sized owl with its big beady eyes and leaf bowtie. People so feared these monsters they would seek to outlast them? Live in a world without Cyndaquil because they hate what they cannot understand? What the fuck.
Earths daughter can feel a stress migraine coming on from trying to comprehend the physics of a non-Euclidean Pokeball or how one of gods' own creatures can fucking photosynthesise but the thoughts don't fill her with terror or bloodlust.
"Akari my dear girl, you there?"
She jolts violently. She's been doing a lot of that recently. Jolting, flinching, yelping and shrieking in surprise. Her life thus far has been relatively mundane, no occasion for her to startle in high school- day in day out it was the same monotonous routine.
"Yep! Sorry, what did you say?"
"I was just complimenting you skill in catching, have you been acquainted with Pokeballs before perhaps? You know, I've never seen you style of dress before either! Though I try not to judge considering… anyway- I know I saw you fall from the sky, an infinite mystery in and of itself indeed but to come back down to our concrete reality; what is your situation here my girl? Do you have family round here in Hisui? Can I point you in their direction?"
Considering she was in a made up world of a children's series, no. She could hazard a guess and say she did not have family here. Hers were all back home and safe. Wait. No. No nononono.
She isn't touching that thought with a ten-foot pole right now. What did the prof say? Concrete reality. She can do that.
She mutely shakes her head. "No family, I don't know where we are, so I don't know if directions would help."
The prof goes uncharacteristically quiet for a while. Akari was surprised how intimately she felt she knew the intellectual already, despite having met him perhaps ten minutes ago.
"…do you…. have anywhere to spend the night?" His voice is tainted with worry, which makes her feel a smidge better.
"Not really?" She could sleep under the stars, she isn't the best at wilderness survival but it was warm and pleasant out here now, she's certain it won't be too cold at night despite her being clad in only a t-shirt and shorts.
Another unbearable pause.
"Well….. if I can have your ear for a moment, and I know it sounds like a tangent but I have this incredible vision of compiling the Hisui regions first complete record of all the Pokemon living within it! Such a task is arduous but very worthwhile as our understanding of Pokemon can help us live happier, safer and more fulfilling lives going forward! I posit that we call this work a 'Pokedex', that is to say an 'index' of all the 'Pokemon' living, including vital data and details regarding each Pokemon. Of course several issues arise in regards to this, namely the vastly different morphology and temperament of each Pokemon, and of course the fact that we aren't even sure how many Pokemon inhabit this region. The accepted range estimate for this region is between two hundred and three hundred Pokemon. Understandably, to catch and document three hundred species of Pokemon seems insurmountable. The survey corps I have been employed by are very hard workers, however their skill with Pokeballs leaves…. much to be desired I'm afraid."
He looked forlorn for a moment and Akari breathed a quiet sigh of relief as he returned to his longwinded Pokemon sermons. The universe aligns again.
"Now! Here is where I can let my conscious lie easy, and you can survive in this dangerous land. You know, people are very social creatures, much like the Shinx line, so much so that extended time isolated from others of our kind can damage us mentally and even physically! You seem naturally gifted with catching Pokemon, you even approached one without hesitation! I can ask for you to be employed within the ranks of the Survey Corps much the same way I am, which will guarantee you shelter and food and some proper clothes and of course companionship. What do you say my girl?"
Can she say anything other than yes? Of course not, strange British man in strange clothing. Of course not.
"Sounds like the perfect storm. I don't think I can say no to be honest."
She might be using that phrase wrong. She wants to sound like she knows what she's talking about, what with the scientist using all these long words that bruise her ego.
"Of course you can say no my girl! I'd be worried out my damn head of course, no man with good conscious lets a young girl catch her death out there in the wilderness. Come with me then, to Jubilife village!"
He's turned and started walking before she can answer him. Okay. Guess she has to follow. She watches as he lopes forward, another spiel about the naming convention of Jubilife village being generously bestowed upon her- and she catches the universe being torn asunder.
The flow of time and the vastness of space, the entire concrete reality shudders as she turns plainly towards the rift, spiralling endlessly- as though the mere act of her witnessing the flaws in existence can alter reality. She is abruptly reminded of the observer effect, that the act of measuring the universe fundamentally changes it. Lightning sparks irregularly from the hatched scar upon the surface of the universe, and the mountain atop which it is storming looms threateningly above her. A primal part of her brain, forever instilled to fear an instance of anything so large, so imposing, yells at her to turn tail and run. Akari is inclined to listen to it.
I mean, there a fucking hole in the sky, she thinks absently. She just volleyed Pokeballs at a giant fire rat and owls that can photosynthesise- who can also disappear into thin air. Of course there'd be a hole in the sky.
Stumbling after the professor, she can't help but keep her eyes on the rift- as though keeping it within eyesight would regulate it somehow. As such she awkwardly trips and shuffles after Laventon, barely managing to stop herself from stumbling into his back. Forcing herself to tear her incredulous mind from the rift, she focuses on the situation a mano.
"Professor!" A voice greets them, and god's chosen looks up to see a man in in combat boot-esque shoes and red jacket which struck her as normal enough, immediately botched by the conical straw woven hat he wore. Huh?
"Ah, Dorian! I plan to enlist this young lady to help with my Pokemon research, so I'll have to bring her inside the village for a bit!"
The man guarding the entrance surveys her for a second before nodding. Akari does not have the presence of mind to take offence at his offensive judgement, her eyes roam frantically over the mechanism making up the village before her.
Under a humid, leaden sun just starting to set, a wooden cluster of houses stood. Gulls (were they Pokemon?) drifted lazily above the houses on taut wings, the dirt packed road warmed by the heady dusk-light and the smoke trails tumbling across the pale gray sky led to a menagerie of sensation, the muggy air thick with scents for the daughter of providence to marvel at. The village had its two orderly rows of wood panelled houses down a 'main road' of sorts, dotted with people all clad in neutral coloured cloths as if not daring to mar the homogeny of this scene, set to the backdrop of hundreds of cicadas, or their equivalent screaming a chorus. A more imposing brick building lurked ahead, details too far to make out.
Despite their unobtrusive entrance in her mind, heads swivel on rubber axis to stare at the two of them. Akari was not in the habit of burning the locals however, so she smiled awkwardly at them while uncomfortably striding after Laventon, trying to match his ground-eating gait.
"The road we are on now is known as Canala avenue, intersecting the prelude river that flows from the fieldlands." He keeps talking, this time probably to make the situation less stressful- to draw her mind from the judgment of the locals but she hears them regardless. A family of three starts up a whispered conversation lead by the child asking who she is, the parents speculating on her origins.
Akari flushed in embarrassment as she heard the outspoken confusion and gossip poured out of semi-turned away faces and covered mouths as they tried to make their exhumation of her past not too public. Two old women, backs hunched under the weight of their years, vastly different in face but both alike in their inquisitive eyes- lingering on her clothes as they huddled closer. Akari felt like a wolf in- in shorts and a graphic t-shirt? Truthfully, she did stick out like a prize-winning toy spaniel let loose among cattle and their livestock guardian dogs. These people all wore modest, neutral cloths and carried wicker baskets or brooms or other equipment and Akari felt they definitely knew she had done no honest day's work in her life.
Her parents worked labour- breath shortening and back-breaking labour so she could learn art, and she knew with certainty that her parents did not want the same cancerous, decaying to the well of life, work they suffered through on her. However, these people did not share her blood. They would gladly shed it perhaps, share it in aching labour which would raise her to perhaps not their equals but to some respect in their eyes.
Basically, she was in a very old and thus likely pretty fucking conservative village. She could tell this from the taste of iron in her mouth as surely as she could tell the sun was beginning to dip beyond the horizon. Time was passing remarkably quickly in her panic. She couldn't help shrinking into herself, almost running into Laventon's back in her haste to anchor herself to the only person who she even vaguely knew or liked. He seems to not mind, stepping aside to let her walk by his side as he continues to softly explain the history of the village.
Even the people younger than her- meant to lend her at least a little respect in a village as traditional as this- turned and giggled, a brother whispering to his sister that they must not talk to strangers, must not look at goblin men and must not buy their fruits.
They cross a small, charming bridge over a flurry of clear water, lined with posts reading texts in kanji she couldn't parse when the professor stopped their march-
"Right! I am beholden to our head of the survey corps, much as you also will be, and I have to report that my three runaway Pokemon are no longer missing. Please wait for me by The Wallflower, the canteen for Galaxy Team staff- here."
Akari is parked unceremoniously before a sour looking older man, his back hunched over and knees bent to accommodate thusly. He stared flatly out of the corner of his eye, huffing and entering through the curtain into the establishment with a scathing look at her. Akari frankly has far bigger things to deal with than one of her respected elders having a cactus up the ass, so she turns and stares anxiously at the imposing three-story structure looming up ahead. A young man- or boy really- about her age exists and his initial sweep of the terrain immediately spears her, picking her out with a swift, practiced gesture.
"You! New! I don't know you!" and-
Wow, centre of the fucking world, this one.
"Yeah I-"
"So, how did you end up here, huh? You sneak past the guards? You convince someone to take you in? You seem very weird! I've not seen anyone dressed like you- where are you from huh?"
The kid's words hit with the downward momentum of a sledgehammer- what? Which should she respond to first, should she respond at all?
"Uh- I'm Akari?" God. Why did she word that like a question, it was her own name for god's sake.
"Hm, very suspicious! I just got back from fighting several Shinx- they got me good!"
He grins brightly and flashes his hands, which she now focuses on rather than his incredibly old-timey uniform. She sees spider web scars that are bright pink and irritated, delicately lacing across from his fingertips till they disappear beneath the black under layer to his uniform. They're deep-set surrounded by other scars and bruises, his face also bearing abrasions and the gentle cupping of his cheek by a wicked but long since healed scar made by something sharp jumping eagerly to meet the soft malleable flesh of his face.
What the fuck? He looks to be her age, who exactly decided to take an overzealous butter knife to his head?
She just lets her mouth hang open in shock as naïve eyes roam across his injuries, only now taking them in. He continues to talk.
"Yeah, I'm not the best at telling when they get too aggravated, and I guess this little guy just had enough! Don't worry, I'm plenty used to shocks from a grumpy little thing like that Shinx, and anyway I got some good data! I don't know how the professor plans to deal with the Pokemon but I even managed to catch one! I'm going to release it but-"
He is mercifully cut off when the professor emerges only a scent few minutes after he entered.
"Ah, young Rei! I see you have met this charming young lady Akari! I do believe you will be seeing a fair bit more of each other now since little Miss Akari has decided to help us with our Pokedex!"
"Sir- respectfully- you do not have the power to override Captain Cyllene's decision, however respected and valued your opinion is, she has the ultimate say over who ends up under her branch of the corps."
Rei- the boy- seemingly flipped his personality. But- no, not really. He was still quick to say his mind as he had with her, but he obviously respected the professor greatly. Fuck, but she hoped this captain would take her in.
"The good Captain will let anyone who can contribute truly to the corps in. She will definitely see the raw talent little Akari has."
He lets out a self-satisfied huff of air, extending his hand in a gesture for her to follow him. She turns to follow him but not before catching the boy's eyes and she's confused to see him stare at her considering, new light in his eyes before he turns away with a half-wave in their direction.
She follows the professor to the steps of the building. The building was large, unusual and looming above her like a territorial animal- several Gyarados' ornamenting the roof solidified this impression. There was a man at the stairs in the same red fabric'd uniform the guards at the gates wore- but his eyes and face were a shade friendlier as he bowed to the professor and let them hoist open the heavy oak doors.
She thanks him, and is distracted from asking after his name when she lays eyes on the interior. Rich red carpet and white walls bracketed with moorish dark wood panelling. The carpet is almost too soft as she steps on it, sinking beneath her feet in an uncomfortable way and she suddenly feels the need to remove her sandals. Nobody else has done so however, and the prof is walking ahead of her so she stays in line. The open doorway directly in front of them leads into a subtler drab blue, with a similarly befittingly light blue haired woman of severe countenance with miles of paperwork heaped around her. Everything about her seems washed out and pale, the dishwater gray of her uniform matches her hair and then her eyes as she glances up the moment they cross over the threshold into her domain.
The only splash of colour in the fields of blue is a tiny little Abra sleeping, levitating in the corner next to the grand oak table. Abra was… surprisingly very cute. She might have to catch one herself- the help a psychic Pokemon could provide was not to be understated.
"Professor! Can I assume this child is the one which you would have enrolled into our corps?"
She does not wait for an answer as her eyes cut to Akari who can't help but shrink under her gaze.
"I am Captain Cyllene, head of the Galaxy Team Survey Corps which are dedicated to further understanding Pokemon and the regions surrounding Jubilife village. Do you know your age, child?"
"I'm 15, Captain Cyllene."
She nods decisively-
"Quite old enough to earn your keep. Would that you pass our gauntlet and prove yourself worthy and useful to our corps we will ensure your feed and shelter, and that you will receive a reasonable monetary compensation for your field reports. You have been given this opportunity solely based on the good Professor's recommendation. Do not abuse this chance you have been granted."
She feels like a bug pinned and dissected underneath a microscope with her back again a corkwood board. The captain apparently is satisfied with her inspection.
"Tomorrow, as soon as you wake, report to my office. We will conduct our examination of your prowess and how well you shall fit in with our corps. Now please take your leave- you may eat at The Wallflower and we shall set up some quarters for you as it is quite late."
"Ah, I shall join you then young Akari."
It did not take long for them to settle by The Wallflower- Rei having already ordered is waiting by a table on his lonesome to which the professor persuaded her they should go join him. Beni (the stooped over older man was apparently called such and was also the head chef of the establishment) seemingly spawned in and had agreed to serve them himself with his famous potato mochi.
Akari was not unused *per say* to mochi, her mother being Japanese but not keen on cooking as her father was. She is hit with a wave of longing for her parents so crushing its hard to breathe for a moment as she lets the conversation at the table wash over her. She is only jolted out of her depressing tribulations after Rei asks her a direct question in a less than pleasant volume.
"Three!? It took me a week to catch my first Pokemon! I obviously can catch a Pokemon -almost- every time I go out on a survey but- but! I- How? With a rabble of Paras after us it's impossible to catch even one."
She can't help but grin at that- maybe this kid, hyperactive though he is, isn't all that bad.
The food is good, hot and crispy as it filled her till she couldn't eat anymore.
The chatter is low stakes till the professor deigns to mention that she had fallen from a thing called the 'Space-Time Rift' which was the hole in the sky that observed them like the all-seeing eye of some being so far beyond the rational mortal mind. She shudders, and the table quietens as Rei takes in this fact, yet again revaluating his opinion of her.
It leaves a bad taste in her mouth and it is a quite unpleasant end to an actually good dinner. She is led to her quarters and given the go ahead to sleep till morning.
The quarters are decently sized and the most charming thing she had witnessed till now as a stranger in a strange land- a fireplace with a disc hanging above it and several drying herbs and vegetables tied with twine, a table or two and a wardrobe, mirror and privacy screen combination, the walls painted the same eggshell white but this time with a lighter wood or perhaps bamboo detailing and a futon on the ground. The house looks lived in and homey which all while comforting also worries her about who owns or used to own this place and whether or not she is intruding.
Nothing else left to it, she curls up on the futon. She hasn't slept on anything like it before, save a couple of couches or drunken floor naps besides. It's not cold but it is unusual and empty- small. She's like, shaking, despite the lack of chill permeating the air. The last holdout of her reality can't help but think how comfortable it would be to have curled around one of the three Pokemon (though little Cyndaquil would undoubtedly be the warmest) and to have felt their rhythmic breathing against her. She used to sleep with her cat curled against her stomach under the blankets since time immemorial and cannot quite resign herself to this empty existence. Her post-death hallucination mystery dungeons Pokemon journey was off to a bad start.
If she drifts off with tear tracks drying on her face, then since no man or Pokemon was there to witness it (much like a tree in the forest), no she didn't. She can deny herself this much, at least.