Forbidden Waters - 5
One misty autumn morning Richard had been sleeping on the second story loft patio of his estate, laid haphazardly onto a plastic sunbathing chair like a rag doll. Around his property, inside and outside, small camps of party-goers and fans were huddled or heaped onto one another in intimate piles of drunken stupor. Machamp smiled with satisfaction as he gently patted an overweight Team-Skull themed punk on the head, laid out on the couch with eight others. Incineroar scoffed and rolled her eyes, wide hips and lithe body swaying as she carried a scrawny metal head onto one of the soft-er carpets and inattentively slumped him down as a hot murky smoke wafted out from a long sigh of annoyance. Torterra had plopped down in the yard beside the pool and a number of nature-loving acquaintances of Team Stone slept beside her or on her back. Rhydon, with one person in each arm, handily laid folks out onto a collection of thereto unused yoga pads. Vaporeon had dragged a muscle bound jock by his wife-beater up against Torterra and then leapt up onto a metal support in front of one of the upper level loft windows.
This spot was her perch in this uncomfortable place. The home felt too big, too many windows, too many doors, too many unruly idiots coming in and out and compromising any semblance of security she could make for herself . Her mouth screwed up into a bit of a scowl; what a waste of such a fabulous den, she thought, and absentmindedly met Incineroar's gaze as she looked around for others that needed to be made comfortable.
Incineroar hmph-ed , shook her head and blew a cloud of smoke with her paws on her hips. "{Don't look so cooped up, princess. You can leave anytime you want,}" she said in monspeech. " {I won't tell anyone.}"
Vaporeon grinned and peered down at her, silhouetted by the morning sunlight beginning to shine through the windows and glistening off her smooth body. "{You'd love nothing more, I'm sure. Alas, someone needs to stick around here to help keep you motivated, skitty-cat.}"
Incineroar's throat rumbled in a low growl. "{I don't need some fisherman's morsel thinking she's my keeper.}"
Vaporeon's tail wrapped around her haunches as she turned around and gazed out onto the lawn, over the roofs of the lower-class homes. "{Gross, I'm not your keeper, Incineroar...}" she said, and then she stared at the corner of Emilio's home, which from this vantage point always looked like a shadowy crevice in the side of a mountain when contrasted by Stonecastle's extravagance. "{I'm your superior.}"
The fiery feline down below lurched forward, spat, and yowled in anger, waking up one of the sleeping partygoers for a moment before they succumbed to their chemical stupor again. Her claws had become fully bared and fire was starting to billow around her body. "{You arrogant lab-rattata! Say that again while I-}"
Machamp smacked a wet towel across Incineroar's face and let it go, letting it wrap around her head like a damp, musky soft serve ice cream cone.
"{No judges, no fighting! Do you wanna get put down?}" He pointed at Vaporeon with one of his hands as the others were working grip-strength machines. "{We're a team, Vaporeon. Nobody here's superior to anyone else. Richard wouldn't keep any of us around if we couldn't push our own weight. Get down here and apolo -}"
An extremely loud and shrill chime sounded off from Richard's pocket, his dexnav shook out of his pants and bounced around the wooden patio as Richard panicked and fumbled around trying to catch it like a rowdy fish dragged onto land. Vaporeon and Incineroar both scowled and looked away from each other like children standing in front of the school principal as Machamp's eyebrow raised in confusion. A bit early for anyone to be calling, wasn't it? It definitely was too early for training to start.
"TEAM Stone! Team Captain, speaking!" He announced as he placed the dexnav against his ear and desperately rubbed the sleepiness from his face.
Machamp turned around at the two feuding girls and nodded. "{Don't fight no more. You're both Cornerstones of this Castle," He said and then flexed his monumentally stacked limbs into glorious knots of muscle and throbbing veins. "Maybe not as big as this one , but maybe one day you will be. Ha!}"
"OH, yes. Yes, ah, I mean no, it's not too early at all," Richard spoke as he swept his hair back with a shiny titanium barber-comb. The other end of the line babbled as he dodged sleeping bodies on the ground and made his way to the master bedroom.
He seemed surprised at the babbling happening on the other side of the dexnav.
"He… huh? Well, I don't see why not… Can't say I disagree at all," he waved his hands in the air as if he was talking to the person face to face, "of course, Lieutenant! No problem at all. Pop's always look'n for a good ol boy to hobnob and share a drink with."
Richard nods in understanding. "I'll be bringin' my partner, so long as that's alright… Oh, good to hear! Yeah, Em'll be stoked…. Good morning, Sir! Talk later."
He breathed in deep and sighed, plopping himself down onto his messy black silk sheets . "Every day to the max, never stops," he said, and just as he managed to get a little bit comfortable again the dexnav shook and squealed with another call. He settled his shades on his face again and pressed it against his face, "Oh, hey Pop. Funny story, I just talked with… huh? Sorry, what? He did WHAT ?!" Richard smacked the back of his head against the filigreed Clamperl themed headrest of his Hoenn-King sized bed. "You're kidding me?! Yeah, I… I know... I KNOW, POP. I'll do what I gotta do. Reputation is king."
Richard shook his head, rubbing his eyes. "The only thing I can do, pop…"
"I'm gonna bury him."
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The crowd roared like the peal of thunder in a torrential downpour. Immensely bright lights shone from massive stadium bulbs all around, exciting rock music blared and announcers shouted half-comprehensible play-by-plays and quippy jokes on megaphone speakers in desperate attempts to let the crowd know what they could plainly see for themselves…
CRASH!
Machamp came careening down onto the solid marble tile, leaving a thick network of cracks around his fists. As if it had seen everything in slow motion, the opposing Greeninja thrashed its tongue to the side, stuck it to the ground, and tugged itself away from the devastating body slam just in the nick of time. The tongue wiped away a smattering of thorny spines oozing purple liquid littered all over the ground and then the Greeninja stood ready to dash again. His eyes darted back and forth, ready to narrowly avoid the swarm of sharp stones floating in the air, like someone shattered a window in space.
Machamp's face was swollen and his body had been torn like a set of community bedsheets in a brothel. He grimaced and gritted his massive teeth together; poisonous thorns had stuck into his feet and legs on top of the deep gashes in his flesh from all angles. He wobbled a bit as he regained his composure, looking around to try and spot his enemy hiding in the cloud of debris he had just kicked up for himself.
Richard was on the sidelines, his face mirrored and blown up on the giant stadium screen behind him, exaggerating the expression of concern for his oldest and most well known mon. "Machamp! Buddy, switch out?!" Richard screamed, practically begging. He relied on his Pokemon's intuition of themselves, so he trusted them when he could, but he was starting to wonder if Machamp had a death wish. Machamp looked back over his rippling deltoids, shook his head slowly, then gave his trainer a hearty thumbs-up with a confident grin. Despite the confidence, the trickle of blood running down from his busted lip defied encouragement.
Machamp knew this fight depended on him, or at least their strategy did. He listened closely to the meetings. He always listened. He knew they had the best chance of besting this team if he could pound the absolute crap out of as many mon as he could for the others, because there were some serious weaknesses on their side if he didn't manage to upend them… and he had done a good job, all things considered. Crushing that Ferrothorn into submission was nothing to shake a leek at, but his time was running out.
"I'm not gonna drag you out in a box!" Richard shouted. "Close Combat!"
Machamp nodded, lurched forward, and scanned the cloud of dust for his quarry. He saw a shadow, was it a glow? His vision was doubling and swimming now, the poison was starting to affect him. He launched forward, still with enough force to shake the ground and whip up a rush of air that excited the Front-Seat-Freaks that paid top dollar to get covered in trickles of blood and risk injury being as close as the league would let anyone be to the fighting.
"MACHAAAAAAAMP!" he shouted with courage and all four of his fists began pummeling a silhouette he could barely recognize.
He roared out in excitement as his blood trickled down onto the clean white marble, the crowd replied in turn. The onslaught brought his punches and kicks to the ground, ejecting more dust into the air and putting his quarry between a rock and a hard place. Then he shook off the intoxication of battle and decided to pick up and look at what exactly it was he had wasted the last bit of his energy compacting into a cube.
A dumb faced substitute, a doll in the shape of a Greeninja, laid there in a fluffy exploded heap. One of the eyes hung on by a loose thread, a little grinning mouth had its yarn torn, and one of the arms fell off the body as his hands shook in disbelief.
The enemy trainer, an intimidating muscle-bound man wearing a traditional set of ancient looking plate armor with purple sashes, stared with soulless indifference. Declan of Opelucid, the leader of the renowned Unova Dragon Gym. It wasn't often gym leaders took much time away from their duties to participate in the regular league pissing matches. Gym leaders were unique among competitive trainers, they didn't battle to be "the best"… not always. But what they always did was take their specialization to the absolute limit, focused like a laser, and made their job a part of who they were. They gave up on themselves in order to help others climb the mountain everyone else wanted to surmount. Sometimes they were insane recluses, sometimes they were irritating puzzle nerds , sometimes they were elite four material in and of themselves, but never were they ever to be taken lightly… especially when one called you out by name and announced a team that appeared to be made with the express purpose of putting your team in a casket.
"CHUUUU!" Machamp never saw it coming. A spinning whirlwind of sparkling electrical energy bounced off his chest and the little bit of strength he had left left his eyes standing. His gaze went vacant and he fell with a sound reminiscent of a falling redwood tree . The Raichu responsible winked at the crowd and bowed as red energy recalled him back to his trainer.
A Rotom drone scans Machamp from the air. "Machamp is unable to continue."
Richard's face was stunned with angry embarrassment. He had allowed his connection with Machamp to blind him from the battle going on. He was so worried about insulting his partner that he ended up getting him hurt. "Machamp, return," he said, gripping the Pokeball in his hand with fierce intent. "I owe you a steak and a fist bump, big guy!"
Emil is there too, for the first time during a televised match, wearing what people had started considering his trademark olive drab overalls. He sat on the bench where non-restrained mon can stay on the sidelines legally and non active team members can help strategize. Vaporeon was curled up on his lap, watching with insane amounts of focus. Up until this point she was excitedly watching and cheering for her teammate, but the instant she saw the Raichu's cheap shot and cocky display her spines rose and shook with rage and she started hissing and spitting and growling in ways Emil wasn't sure he'd heard before.
Emil rubbed her neck and shoulders and snuggled her close. "Don't get worked up, that mon would do a number on you."
She glanced back at him, huffed. And then nuzzled his hand and relaxed at his touch. She accepted the reality, but she wasn't about to let anyone think she liked it.
No, she thought...she hated it.
"OOOOH, smooth as SILK! A volt switch finisher in classic Surge style, you didn't tell me we were at the KANTO regional placements! Yet again it seems Dragonmaster Declan has the upper hand!" the announcers declared. One half of the crowd roared in excitement while the other half jeered with reckless abandon.
Richard thumbed his belt, peering back at Em and Vaporeon, and then nodded .
"Trainers, recall period is over, send forth your mon!"
Richard nodded and held his hand out. Red light exploded forth and Incineroar was released, sparkling with a glistening powder all over her fur. She glared into the dust, inspected the ground with its prickly thorns, gazed into the air and flinched as she accidentally let some of the floating stones cut into her hide.
"Greeninja, use hy-" Declan began, but his eyes went wide and he was interrupted as a blur of fire, fur, and blood screamed across the battlefield.
Incineroar was a streak of blazing anger. The stones cut into her flesh, she didn't flinch, she deftly dodged the spines on the ground as she danced toward her opponent faster than most could follow, and she peeked back at Vaporeon watching from the sidelines. She had one mission and thanks to the team's preparations she was going to do it before anyone could even register who she was . Her mouth curled into a toothy grin. "{Watch and learn, Pondscum...}" she muttered to herself.
"CLOSE COMBAT!" Richard screamed, but it was pointless. Incineroar was already through fifty or sixty punches, kicks, and scratches. The quick-powder trick had paid off! Em had suggested it and though Richard was against the idea he decided to show some faith. Turns out the nerd had some battler instincts in him after all.
After being lashed too and fro in a cloud of fire, sharp stones, and what might have been the enemy's blood, Greeninja was tossed out of the ring at his master's feet, sliding to a halt at the end of a ten foot long streak of blood. Dragonmaster Declan gazed on his fallen partner, the passing look of surprise now totally gone, and he nodded as he recalled the bloody casserole laying in front of him.
Vaporeon was stunned, and cheered with excitement. Though she despised the haughty bitch, she cheered for her all the same. Machamp was right, after all; no matter who was the best, you were still a team. A castle is only as strong as its weakest Stone.
"Greeninja is unable to continue!" the Rotom announced, and Greeninja's face went opaque on the giant screen displaying their team rosters.
Declan picked a Pokeball from his belt and nodded at Richard. "Admirable. I expected you to build some new team to overcome my bluster. But it seems you trust in your partners abilities, and you adapt…." he began, "but can you overcome?"
Richard laughed, his eyes wild with excitement. This kind of showiness was normal in league battles, especially the televised ones, and Richard was just the kind of ham that needed to be front and center at the thanksgiving dinner table. "I'm gonna bury you and drop a headstone on that cheap roster you cooked up. Make it look good for the camera, Gym Leader! I'm coming for your badge someday."
He smiled , folded his arms as the plates of his archaic armor clacked together. "I expect nothing less. Garchomp!"
The Pokeball energy coalesced into a hulking behemoth . The Mountain maw of Sinnoh , something intimidating no matter where you saw it. Both Richard and Emil were taken aback even still; after all the research they had done this specimen was truly gargantuan. Emil 's rough estimates brought it at 50% taller than even the upper end of the bell curve . This guy was a special breed , an old line of Alpha Pokemon. Had to be. Had they busted this monster out just to stop Richard?!
Richard's face was replete with confidence, his bright green eyes glistening in the artificial light like emeralds on display in a luxury jeweler's store. "OUTRAGE!" he roared, seething with victory at his fingertips.
Incineroar yowled and roared into the air, purple energy building around her, and she began dancing around Garchomp lumbering crashing limbs . She struck the giant beast again and again, and she could tell her gashes and powerful strikes were chalking up a devastating tally. Garchomp roared in pain, seemingly allowing the onslaught to continue, unable to land a hit.
Vaporeon was so excited she could barely contain herself, cheering for her feline partner and hopping up and down in Emil's arms. But in the moment she saw a glimmer of something she had not expected seeping out from the enemy. She jumped up from Emilio's lap, kicking him and the chair they were sitting in over, and she leapt up to the border line of the battlefield. "{RUN! Run, Incineroar! Get out! DANGER!}" she screamed.
What a nosy tramp, Incineroar thought as she effortlessly pounded the crap out of the mountain of a dragon. "{You'll get your turn!}" she hissed, completely missing the building blue glow starting to collect in Garchomp's mouth.
"Liquidation!" Declan spoke calmly, and the crowd gasped as a surge of water formed around Garchomp's head and neck, coming down upon Incineroar like a tsunami.
She couldn't stop! The outrage continued. IThat was the risk you took with berserk moves like that and all she could do was watch in intricate detail as the roaring bonfire of her fighting spirit was smothered in an instant. Her mind is addled as her chest is crushed under the weight of both an ocean and a mountain.
The whole arena was flooded and the spines washed away from the ground to the perimeter of the fighting zone. The Front Seaters clamored over themselves to try and catch one of the poisonous spines for their scrapbooks or whatever insane thing they did with the stuff that fell into the crowd.
"Incineroar is unable to continue!" the Rotom declared, but Richard and Emilio's ears were filled with the beating of their hearts, thrumming with anger and surprise. He recalled Incineroar, hands shaking as he pressed the button that shrunk it to belt size.
Richard thumbed at his belt as he considered his options. He had no idea how much fight the Garchomp had left in them, but he suspected it was no small amount. The first two Pokemon of the fight were matches for each other, but Torterra was slow compared to Charizard . It was a raucous slugging match that ended up with Torterra taking the brunt of the damage and he couldn't bear to see her take it any more, so he recalled and brought out Rhydon to finish the job, not too hard at all considering the typing, but what came next was the hell-storm of spines and floating razors of glass made by his Ferrothorn. Rhydon slugged it out as long as they could before Richard decided to give them a rest and let Ol' Machamp have a go. Machamp did the team proud, he crushed Ferrothorn, and allowed Rhydon to stay a little bit fresh on the belt. That left him with Rhydon, Metagross, and…
"Vaporeon HAS WALKED ONTO THE FIELD!" the announcers shouted.
She had, indeed. Her shoulders and chest were jutted forward in a display of defiance, neck fins splayed out with pride, and she looked back for approval from her trainers. Richard stood dumbfounded, Emil looked the same way, then he finally shook off the shock of sudden defeat and entered the narrow tunnel of hope set before them.
"Alright, Vaporeon, give him all you've got! Ice Beam !"
She shook her head. "Vap e e eeeeeeeeeee," she growled rebelliously, loosening her shoulders, breathing in deeply and out slowly.
Garchomp started stomping towards Vaporeon. It was like watching a diesel train slowly rolling towards a victim tied up on the railroad tracks, ready to be pancaked into oblivion
"Dammit, Vaporeon. USE ICE BEAM!" Richard screamed.
Her eyes glared into Garchomp's eyes then she zipped to the side just as its mouth bore down on her, becoming a blue blur for just a moment. She narrowly avoided a bite that left a huge gash in the tile like a scoop out of a tub of ice cream. She started breathing slowly and measured, like she was meditating, weaving side to side, zipping between the monster's legs, jumping on his limbs as they smashed the already pulverized floor.
"Is…. Is that?" the announcer stumbled over himself. "Is a Vaporeon able to do that?" one of them asked as they looked away from the microphone at a few of the judges.
Her movements became more and more like a mist of afterimages, making a mockery of Garchomp, who was slow as a Slugma in January.
Richard clawed at his luscious mane of hair, experiencing what he was pretty sure was a heart attack. "What the hell is she doing, Em!?"
Emilio's head bobbed back and forth trying to keep track of her movements. Declan leaned forward, squinting to catch a glimpse of what that strange Vaporeon might be doing.
"Garchomp, return!"
Vaporeon's ghostly visage streaked to and fro, back and forth across the entire arena like a bold impressive brush stroke being imposed on reality.
"Is that Vaporeon using AGILITY!? What is this?"
"R-Raichu!" Declan stammered, tossing the Pokeball out with haste, not even taking the time to carefully hold it in his hand so he could use it later.
Raichu entered the battlefield and surveyed his domain. The place was a mess, and oh, what was this… " Chu Chu Chu Chu," he cackled. The idiots let the water-type out. There was a lot of blood all over, the fighting was getting really intense, but he wasn't going to worry himself over that. He had bigger actual fish to fry.
The next thing Raichu knew, he was looking up from the ground, his whole body screaming under the duress of distant but familiarly mind-shattering pain. His face was a compacted mess, pulled loose from a tattered collection of jagged marble shards of tile that were partially embedded into his face, some of his sharp little teeth had come loose and one of his eyes was going to need some serious medical attention. It was a blur, but it came back to him now. In the blink of an eye, that Vaporeon had somehow closed thirty feet of distance, grabbed his head with her claws, smashed his face into the ground, and then proceeded to pummel him with her tail.
Vaporeon stood beside Raichu with a cool vicious patience. She waited for him to wake up, leaving the crowd speechless . Her eyes were burning with murder as she sat nearly motionless, her tail swaying behind her like a ribbon fluttering in a smooth mountain breeze. The announcers were making some fuss about how this could be, how rare it was for Pokemon to learn moves outside their known sets, but she couldn't give two solitary shits about how amazing people thought she was. This knave hurt her friend, and had made a mockery of his honor. Her glorious purple eyes had glazed over and the difficult to make out pupils were wide as dinner plates, her muscled body was beginning to ripple and veins started throbbing. She snarled, bared her teeth, breathed in, furrowed her brow, and squeaked "MAAAACHAMP!"
Raichu, like Greeninja before him, slid to Declan's feet in a crimson streak.
Dragonmaster Declan, however, was flush with excitement. This was the kind of thing he lived for. Not for inane glory, but to see what Pokemon could do. For the sake of seeing them at their best.
"I choose you," he yelled, and a white Pokeball was brought out from his belt.
Pink energy collected in the middle of the arena. A pink blob with cute tiny eyes and a little smirk wobbled around.
Vaporeon, who is totally overcome with confidence, leaned forward and belly laughed . She had no idea what she expected, but that certainly was not it.
Emil ran up to the borderline of the battle. "Vaporeon, RUN!" he screamed.
She was no fool, her human had some brains up in his skull after all, so she collected her composure and… It was not enough time to avoid a second blur, just as fast, just as vicious, smashing across her body and breaking her ribs. She had no time to think, now was the time to fight. Two identical streaks practically swam in the air like a pair of comets dancing in a cosmic fight for supremacy. That one strike, however, the first one that made contact, was the deciding factor. The two insanely fast Vaporeon shaped missiles eventually wore each other down with tiny almost immeasurably fast strikes. Streaks of blood burst everywhere from the cloud of razor sharp rocks still floating around.
The arena had turned into a watercolor painting of blood, water, violence, and grace.
Vaporeon was tossed around like a pizza dough being spun in the air and finally her body was whipped around by the impostor with full leverage to the ground. The unmistakable sound of bone snapping silenced the crowd, and all that could be heard was Vaporeon 's cries of anguish as she squirmed around, trying to collect her senses . The other Vaporeon, which instead sported a set of beady little eyes, jittered and spun around in aquamarine circles on the other end of the field in anticipation of what was to come next. Emilio shouted and wanted to run out onto the battlefield to go get her, but Richard grabbed him by his overall suspenders and jerked him back into the trainer's box.
"Vaporeon, re-"
She snarled and spit blood out from her mouth, she choked back her pain and yelled, "NO!" in human speech.
Nobody had considered that an arena full of excited fans, announcers, and battling monsters could possibly be quiet enough to hear a pin drop. In the quiet Vaporeon pried herself up off the ground. Her back right leg was hanging limp with an extra joint that wasn't supposed to be there, wobbling around as she hopped around on the one hind leg that worked. She was a warrior, she was a weapon , her father had always told her that. From the moment she was hatched and her innocent little Eevee eyes squinted into the stale synthetic lights of Apogee's Genelabs she had been forged under the expectation that she demonstrate strength, tenacity, and ferocity . She would have the wherewithal to overcome any obstacle, death be damned. She refused to lose like this, at the hands of a wad of goofy chewing gum, and her blazing pride was the only flame left fueling her engines.
" D d ..distortion um… um… Vaporeon, BATON PASS!" Emil shouted, just barely remembering the little trick he had practiced with Vaporeon in his spare time. In all honesty, he had no idea whether they'd use it at all, but whatever this insane thing Vaporeon had pulled was he wasn't going to waste a single ounce of it. He couldn't stand seeing her like a strung up cadaver being animated by some destructive spirit. If this got her closer to a Pokecenter then he was going to do it.
She gazed back, her pain and exhaustion and blood loss not getting to her, but Em… her Emilio had a plan? Sure…. Ok, "Vap….vapeee…" She swayed back and forth like a drunk, then she gently lifted her paw above her head. A tiny baton-shaped energy emission left the top of her paw, glistening brilliant pink and blue, spun around in the air, and then she bowed her head and collapsed to the ground.
Richard recalled her, his entire body quaking with the vision of everything he had just witnessed. He reached for his belt out of desperation, but then saw Declan was frantically looking around, holding his head in excited amazement.
"INCREDIBLE!" Declan roared. "INCREDIBLE PERFORMANCE! This is what I live for!"
Rhydon appeared on the battlefield. He instantly recognized the thing and reached for the baton. He didn't remember many things on his best days, but he remembered that it would give him a boost! Suddenly his body glowed with the same brilliant blue energy, jittering and shaking, and he roared with excitement, thrashing around and beginning to cackle uncontrollably. He had become a massive, robust, powerful, lumbering machine of a Pokemon now graced with impossible speed; in other words, a complete nightmare.
Richard smirked, his crying eyes finally recovering their vivid glow. "Then I hope you enjoy the encore!"
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Back at Stonecastle, evening began to set in as the partygoers descended upon Richard's property once more. The crowd that evening was a sea of excited new fans in addition to the regulars. In the main living area, Richard's Pokemon were surrounded by a crowd of onlookers and had been laid out on a mess of cushions and blankets; at least the injured ones were. Machamp, Incineroar, Vaporeon, snuggled up against Torterra's side. They were wrapped like Pinatas in medication soaked bandages, splints, and stitched up in a few places. Vaporeon, unlike the others, had her hind leg bound up in a comically thick cast. Rhydon hooted and hollered at the crowd, having been roughed up some but definitely took the least of the damage, reveling in the attention he was getting as the one that finished the battle. As normal, Metagross was nowhere to be seen, but that was nothing new. The majority of the crowd floated in and out of the area, congratulating them on their hard fought victory, and for the most part all of them expressed excitement and gratitude. Except Vaporeon, who looked more and more despondent as the night went on.
Richard's father, Jared Stone, was present and clapping his son on the shoulder. They both looked around for Emilio, but he had found a secluded corner that had somehow not been overrun by the mob actively besieging Stonecastle. Emil was pretty sure that they were violating a city safety regulation or two based on how many people were present, but he wasn't about to make an ass of himself. In fact, he didn't really feel very comfortable talking at all . He kept getting ambushed at random by trainers both young and old asking him to give them tips on how to train their Pokemon to do things like Vaporeon had. The video-clip of Richard screaming in confusion at Emilio had been caught by the big screen and exploded all over Razzberry, leading a lot of people to the conclusion that Emilio was somehow just as responsible as Richard for the insane match. Even some of their neighbors had finally come over and joined in the festivities as they learned about the match from the evening news. (Might as well, if you can't catch a wink of sleep, right?)
He had grown his social battery over the time he'd made friends with Richard, but he was officially running on empty. He pushed his way past the crowd and made it over to Richard.
"Richard, amazing party, thanks for sharing the spotlight with me, but I need a dark quiet hole to sit in or I'm going to snap."
Richard sighed in disappointment. "It's alright my man."
His father, once a renowned member of the Elite Four of Hoenn and now a wealthy business magnate, finally got his chance to clap Emil on the shoulder in congratulations. It stung just like Richard's. He had abandoned his suit coat and unbuttoned the top of his dress shirt as he was enjoying a large heavily spiked drink. "Enjoy yourself, Malison . Need to save some energy for our meeting with our Law Enforcement Officials next week."
Emil's eyes shifted back and forth. "What now?"
Richard waved his hand in the typical dismissive fashion, blowing concern away as if it was campfire smoke. "Nothing big, it happens sometimes. Local political folk wanna look good to the masses so they have winning trainers cut ribbons with the cops or the fire fighters sometimes, no big deal."
Emil nodded and finally returned Jared's handshakes. "I'll make sure to change out of my overalls then," he joked. He showed up one time to a trainer's summit in his oil stained work clothes and Richard's father had to remind his son to help coach his Manager on his social graces. One thing Emil had gained from the Richard School of Popularity was the ability to turn social gaffs into endearing quirks you could joke about to soothe tensions.
Emil darted off into the crowd, but decided to stop by the team to say goodbye as well. Each of the mon smiled and made pleasant vocalizations at him. Vaporeon, however, was very clingy that evening. She instantly attached herself to him and rubbed her haunches up against his leg.
"Eeeeooon," she crooned, her big eyes gazing like a helpless kitten's, trying to follow him as he walked away.
Incineroar scoffed at her partner's pathetic display, blowing smoke as she turned her head to the side in embarrassment.
Emil stroked her neck and scritched her back as she raised it like a cat loving their master's touch. "I'll be back tomorrow, Girl. I just need to get out of here."
"Vap Vapee!" she barked desperately.
She tried to chase after him, but the cast made her clumsy and slow. Her face sunk into lifelessness after he kissed her on the head, snuck out the sliding glass door, and then disappeared into the mass of inebriated fans. She drug her cast back over to her pillow stack beside Torterra.
"{It's unbecoming, you know… Makes you look like a hatchling,}" Incineroar cawed.
Vaporeon coughed in frustration and curled up tighter, displaying her cast coated leg even more. "{I don't care; I hurt, I'm tired of the noise, and I want my human.}"
Machamp leaned back. "{Richard is our human, Vaporeon. Emilio's important though, so I guess I'll let it slide this time.}" He winked at her as he caught a glimpse of her peeking out from under her arms.
Vaporeon stared at him for a minute, then her eyes opened up and her head tilted in thought. "{You're right, he is important. I'm leaving. }" she said, hopping up and starting to shuffle towards the door.
Machamp hoisted himself up . "{Whoa now, there's rules against that. Richard could get in a lot of trouble. That's how mon get sent to…}" he shuddered, "{ The Box …}"
Incineroar managed to get over her case of fremdschamen and stood up too. "{Look, not saying I want you here or anything, but he's right. Someone see's you walkin' off and you're gonna get us all in trouble.}"
For the first time in a while Torterra shuffled a bit, squinted as she looked for the words and made some expression other than blank derpiness, she smiled then shook the ground with a deep monspeech that roused cheers from the crowd around them. "{It's just next door… She won't run away…}" She nestled back down to sleep again, "{Right?}"
Incineroar hissed derisively, shook her head, then plopped back down and nodded. "{Not my hide. Whatever, Pondscum. Don't waste this, I was saving it for when I beat you.}"
Incineroar breathed deeply, the ground started to rumble, and everyone around her started watching to see what might be going on. She started growling and yowling and finally she belched out fire in many different intricate shapes, making smoke figurines dancing along with the flames, recreating battle scenes with her energy manipulation. The crowd surged around, pushing as close as they safely could to watch the display. Torterra rumbled again, cheering her on, and Machamp started clapping in excitement as well. Rhydon, completely unaware of the underlying situation, pointed and guided an even bigger cluster of people over to watch and pretty soon everyone was captivated by Incineroar's impromptu play. She recreated scenes that she was witness to; exaggerating the size of the garchomp and letting the battle play out far longer than it actually did. She smiled as she showed off her flame puppets, she enjoyed being allowed to perform like this and wished she could do it more. At least she had a good excuse this time, she supposed.
Vaporeon was stunned for a second. Were they helping her? Well, she was planning to get in trouble anyway, so if they were now was her only chance. She dipped and dodged between people's legs on her way to the door, and as a small group of blonde-haired fashionista's piled through the sliding glass door she slipped out into the yard, accidentally smacking her cast against a few legs and a pole on her way out. It felt pathetic, dragging herself across the grass like this, like a soldier crawling across no-man's land to safety in an allied trench, but all she wanted was a quiet dark den with someone she trusted to curl up and sleep with.
She made it to the thin line in the ground where there once was a fence and now there was just a half grown patch where Richard's grass suddenly became Emilio's grass. She realized just down dark it suddenly was. Her trainer's property had all sorts of activated flood lamps, mood lighting, and safety lamps. Emils home, on the other hand, was spooky in a way. It was like nobody lived there at all, except for the almost imperceptible glow of his computer screen that made it past the edge of his blackout curtains. She scooted forward and sprung herself up with her one good leg, wincing at the pain of her broken leg dangling from her hip.
She'd never even thought to follow him home, so this was the first time she'd seen the inside of his den. Everything was organized in neat piles, even the aging stacks of junk mail had been piled up, opened, inspected, and sorted. His kitchen was linoleum coated, like the break room at the laboratory. Lower class, but kept pristine by its owner. Everything was neatly labeled, bottled, or jarred for easy access and there was a calendar on the fridge with the correct month up that was littered with responsible inky graffiti. All his furniture was utterly unremarkable, but invariably comfortable and plush. Maximum comfort with absolutely no regard for flagrance. She would have to fix that.
Emil was sitting there at his computer on a big cushy seat, still in his work outfit, and whatever was on the screen it fully had his attention. He was burning some sour-smelling incense, but even with that she could smell him from the window. He was perspiring a little bit. She pawed at the window, scratching at the glass, but he either couldn't hear her or he was ignoring what might have been some junk being tossed against his window.
She started to dislike the feeling coming from her leg so she let herself drop down. She grunted in frustration and walked the perimeter of his home, looking for any gaps she could exploit. Unlike Richard's massive compound, with its hundreds of insecurities, Emils home was sealed as tight as a Shuckle in hibernation. Even the exhaust for his dryer had a fine mesh over it. She could rip it apart with little effort, but she knew her human wouldn't take kindly to her destroying his stuff.
She felt the urge to relieve herself and thought now was a great time to stake her claim. She sniffed around looking for a safe unmarked spot, then realized something; there was absolutely no territorial scent anywhere . Did Emil have no other Pokemon around him, at all? Ever? How strange, everyone in this society had Pokemon, right? She stopped at multiple points, urinating here and there, and sure enough the only thing she smelled was her own musk. She smiled a little to herself at her being able to claim Emil's property as her own and then continued scouring his fortress for a way in.
She walked back where she began her search and noticed that one of the windows was slightly different than all the others. She hopped up, hanging from her paws like before. The bathroom. A massive jetted tub that was filling up with hot steamy water dominated the tiny space. There was a bottle of something she couldn't read placed on the side and a sink/toilet combo was huddled in the corner as almost an afterthought. Like before everything was scrubbed clean to within an inch of its life. The window latch, though swiveled to the closed position, didn't catch and so was sitting above the catch uselessly. She giggled at her good fortune and started digging her claws in. She popped the screen out and tossed it aside with her mouth onto the grass, then worked the window up. It started sliding open and she wriggled her way in, biting at her cast to drag it in behind the rest of her body.
Emil, who had finally gotten some badly needed privacy, was in desperate need of some relief. He had been around Vaporeon (and other Pokemon he suddenly began recognizing as incredibly attractive) the entire week on their long trip to that tournament and then spent the better part of that evening drinking. If he was going to be useful at all the next day he needed to deal with himself.
As soon as he got the doors locked and the windows shuttered he started running his tub and took off his overalls in preparation. Then he spent a few minutes looking at a collection of… well he wouldn't necessarily call them lewd pics, since anyone else would just see very well taken pictures of Pokemon in vastly different cute situations and poses. To him, though, it was his hand curated collection of very alluring, tasteful, soft-core pornographic images. One of them, of course, was Richard's Vaporeon. One day during training he managed to keep his Dexnav out at the perfect time to catch her leaping out of the water and winking at him. It was his favorite picture, and of course it had to be the topic of his "studies" that evening. His penis was hard as stone, pushing up against his pants like a noxious weed trying to break through a slab of concrete, and he unbuttoned his pants on his way down the dark hallway leading to the bathroom with clear thoughts of her in his arms, nuzzling against his face, with her tail wrapped around his leg, mouth nibbling at his ear whispering...
"Vaporeon!" she chirped as he burst through the bathroom door, face full of excitement and happiness as she perched up on the side of the bathtub right next to his bottle of lubricant with her bad leg hanging off the side like a plaster tumor.
"HAAAAA!" he screamed , exhaling the breath he had been holding in and nearly dropping his pants. She jerked back in surprise at the outburst. He in no way expected company and his heart was beating like he'd just been chased into a hole by a hungry predator. "V-Vaporeon! WHY are you here!? You're not supposed to be here," he cried out, holding his chest with one hand and covering the front of his pants with the other. He would have asked how she got in if it weren't for the slight draft and the window obviously being ajar.
She slumped down and then rubbed her haunches against his legs. She made a whining noise and rubbed his knee with her cheek, periodically peering back and forth between him and her cast. "Vap Vapo Vapee Vaporeon!"
He finished hyperventilating, still breathing heavily, and he nodded. "Hoooo'kay, well, there's worse places for you to wander off too, I guess," he yielded. She squeaked happily and leapt up into his arms, nuzzling up against his face.
His fantasies, just like his face, were on fire and not at risk of running out of fuel so long as the object of his desires was squirming around in his arms . He could smell her more clearly than ever before and she laid her head along his shoulder rubbing against his ear like he imagined. His mind was fantasizing about grabbing at her hips and kissing her neck or feeling her in all the places he couldn't in front of everyone else for fear of outing himself. He groaned in frustration as his brain tried to muster up images of a troupe of overweight human men dressed in leather burlesque gimp outfits with beer hats on (His go to stiffy stopper.) It was not very effective.
"Let me just tell Richard you're here," he mumbled, clumsily click-clacking on his dexnav with his unused arm.
She frowned and looked at the device despairingly. "Vaaaapeeee!" she squeaked, trying to paw the device shut.
He flicked her paw away with more dexterity than she expected and gently rubbed her neck. "Nobody's gonna be mad at you, Vaporeon. I know you're having a rough time, I'll ask if you can stay tonight."
Her ear fins perked up and she squeaked happily, licking his cheek in a show of gratitude. The tender affectation made his heart flutter, and for a moment he reconsidered what he just promised.
1-218-860-5045 (Emil): Hey, um… Dunno if you've noticed but...
He took a selfie of her in his arms, face scrunched up and sticking her tongue out, and sent it.
1-218-860-5045 (Emil): Are those league folks still at the party?
4-483-267-8663 (Richard): …
4-483-267-8663 (Richard): Shit
4-483-267-8663 (Richard): Nobody's noticed yet… I hope. . ,,
1-218-860-5045 (Emil): I won't tell if you won't. It really doesn't bother me.
4-483-267-8663 (Richard): Yeah. Long as you don't think she's gonna run off anywhere else.
1-218-860-5045 (Emil): Nah, all she wants is cuddles, it seems.
4-483-267-8663 (Richard): What is it with her wanting your attention so much? Anyway, I guess that means we need to upgrade you to Trainer Partner so I don't have to worry about League Enforcement kicking our doors in every time she wants her head scratched.
4-483-267-8663 (Richard): Actually, we REALLY gotta hurry that up. Pop was just saying her having a broken bone is a big deal. She's gonna be out long enough that she's going to miss some matches. If she fusses less and heals faster over there, then she can hide in that cave of yours. w/e
1-218-860-5045 (Emil): Will it go faster if I wear that itchy suit to the League Offices? :)
4-483-267-8663 (Richard): Can't hurt. :3 See you tomorrow.
He tossed the phone behind him onto the couch and carried her throughout the Livingroom. "You can stay, make yourself comfortable. I'll get dressed down. "
She vocalized a long happy vibrating squeak and hopped down onto the floor. "Vaporeeee Vaporeon."
This place was smaller than it looked on the outside, yet somehow he managed to fit even more effective living qualities in this tiny box than Richard had in his giant pad. Beyond what she'd seen already she peered into the tiny crevices of the washer and dryer closet, scurried behind the heater, inside the kitchen cabinets, then waltzed into the tight dark hallway and peeked into the first room she didn't recognize.
One was a bedroom that appeared to have been converted into some sort of workshop. The whole room was littered with tools, half rebuilt machines, screens running code she didn't understand, and chemical cabinets with lots of labels she did understand. That was interesting. There were lots of pieces she recognized from the laboratories again, some others that might have been car parts and… oh, she recognized that one falling off when Rhydon hit the punching machine too hard again.
Then she turned her head and smiled. This was the space she wanted to see. She sniffed and waltzed in as Emil wandered back and forth in the living room with his hair in his hands. It smelled like he did alright, but what was that smell? Textbooks? Maybe. Earthy, minty. Ah, she was fine just knowing that was Emil's smell. Then, like hitting a brick wall, she was overwhelmed with some other foul smelling compound she immediately recognized. She sneezed and wiped her nose. That dust, she remembered. They used something that smelled just like that to put the subjects to sleep when they wouldn't cooperate. Why was that here? Was he just one of the lab techs or something? He was really smart and good with machines, after all. That thought made her shudder and she was utterly repulsed by the idea; no, she would have remembered his face. She followed the smell to where it was strongest and stopped at the nightstand. She couldn't stand to open it and smell further, it burned her nose and made her queasy. There were other horrific smelling things in there too. Was her human poisoning himself? How strange. Maybe he couldn't sleep. That would make sense, she guessed. She stopped at the doorway, peeked around the corner to make sure Emil wasn't looking, and marked the doorway with a little trickle of urine. It masked the smell of the Venomoth Dust, made her feel more at home like he asked, and his sense of smell wasn't good enough to notice one little mark.
She ran out of the bedroom and leapt up onto the couch. Emil had run back into the bathroom for a moment. Why for? Ah, she must have interrupted his bath. She would have been fine sharing water with him, especially a nice warm bath. What if he drowned? Humans were notoriously bad swimmers, after all. His laptop screen had flipped on at her jostling the couch. Her head tilted and then she smiled at what she saw. Aw, he had a picture of her on his computer, and a really good picture too! He must have missed her as much as she missed him. That settled it, she was going to stay here from now on. No more sleeping with drunk idiots stomping around her den.
She patiently waited for him and chimed with delight as he came out of the bathroom with a clean set of fluffy, baggy pajamas on. He noticed the computer on and he chuckled nervously, closing it hastily as if he was hiding something. "Alright, get comfy. I'm going to turn some music on. I hope the incense isn't irritating." She hopped off the couch, let him lay down, then leapt right up onto his chest. She squeaked in pain and Emil rubbed her neck. "Relax, you've done enough damage sneaking in here. You gotta get better."
He closed his eyes and tried his best to be on his best behavior. She, on the other hand, rolled around and found a comfy nook between him and the back of the couch cushions and then decided she needed to snuggle him in some other way and found a different comfortable spot. "Vaaaapeeeee," she chirped. She finally had her human all to herself without anyone barking orders that she was compelled to follow or other Pokemon she was embarrassed to seem weak around.
Emil failed to be on his best behavior. Nobody was watching, so why not see what he could get away with? He ran his hand along her tender soft underbits, first massaging some of the tender muscles around her legs, around the bruising on her back, and then helped her move her on her back so her entire underside was up in the air. This position let her cast be still and let him explore her more. He nuzzled her face back and she chirped in approval as his hands got more courageous.
His fingers reached between her paw pads, rubbing between them and feeling the razor sharp claws hidden within. She still purred happily, letting him rub and pet her wherever he wished. Her smell was intoxicating, he could practically feel the blood rushing from his brain down to his dick and he shifted her body to the side so she couldn't feel the erection he was building. He rubbed her belly and she purred loudly at his touch, arching her back to let him know she approved.
This was just what she wanted, she thought. His touch made her feel better, feel comfortable and safe, somewhere she could let her guard down and lick her wounds for the night. "Va Vapor Vaporeooon..."
He kissed her cheek and she giggled. He'd never been this affectionate, how funny. Oh, well, he kissed her on the forehead from time to time. He licked his chin and neck and Emil's spine shivered. His hands reached down lower, between the base of her tail and her thighs. He massaged the inner thigh of her good leg and she wiggled in a way that didn't show disapproval.
[THIS SECTION HAS BEEN REMOVED FROM THIS VERSION OF THE STORY SEE A03 OR INKBUNNY FOR UNCENSORED]
She spun around, claws digging into his plush clothing and almost piercing his skin. Her eyes were wide, like she had just seen a ghost, and she was looking right into his eyes. Unblinking, unmoving, breathing heavy and slow.
Emil's face was now mostly dominated by an expression of shock and terror. Yep, they were right. He stepped a few feet towards the catch, didn't even go for it, and he was about to pay the price. Her claws hurt like crazy, and she was putting more and more pressure as they continued to stare into each others' eyes. Then she started growling; quiet, low, menacing, the kind of growl you only heard just before being torn to pieces.
"I… I'm sorry, I… I'll let you stay out he-" he started as he tried to carefully pick her up and get out from under her, but she jammed her arms into his chest, smashing him back onto the couch with a force that he should never have forgotten. This creature could bend steel, break boulders, and swim as fast as a racing boat… underwater! She knocked the wind out of him as she forced him back into place and he gasped for air as she continued her desperate scrying into his eyeballs.
She pressed her rear end against his hips and his raging hard on was twitching beneath the cloth. Finally everything made sense. Did this human, her human… did he want to mate with her?
Her face went distant and frightening as her memories started rushing back to her. Memories of being locked into that foggy bitter-smelling chamber with a horny male she couldn't see because she had blinders placed over her eyes and straps holding her in place . Of that male mounting her, biting her neck too hard, forcing her face to the ground.
[THIS SECTION HAS BEEN REMOVED FROM THIS VERSION OF THE STORY SEE A03 OR INKBUNNY FOR UNCENSORED]
Tears rolled down her cheek as she remembered the heavy pride and pure joy she felt from laying her first egg… her first child… and the abject horror of having that egg wrenched away from her by a faceless vinyl handed white coat as she shrieked and thrashed around in her containment cell in a hopeless attempt to rescue her baby. Of her father, the hard-faced no-nonsense gray-haired Kanto man calmly coming to tell her she had, "graduated." That she could finally leave the facility and, "enjoy living."
The price of her freedom had been the love of her child, whisked away forever behind the stainless steel doors to nowhere; those images would never leave her, like a scar left deep in the flesh.
Emil's eyes started watering as he bared his teeth in defiance. No, he wasn't going to die like this without putting up a fight! He launched his chest in the air with all the force he could in an attempt to buck her off of him, but what happened instead was that she read his telegraphed movements and leapt off of him and onto the back of the couch. He fell onto the ground and she jumped onto his back as he tried to scamper off, knocking the wind from him yet again. She dug her claws into his shoulders and wrapped her one good leg around his waist, ignoring the searing pain from her cast.
"Va po re on!" she barked in his ear.
His skin started breaking into cold sweats and he started kicking and thrashing, trying to get her off of him. She pushed him down and whipped his legs with her tail so hard that his ankle nearly dislocated after ricocheting off the coffee table and sending it across the room. Then she wrapped her tail around both legs, holding them fast. He had no idea Vaporeon tails could be so elastic and prehensile, and this was absolutely the worst way you could make that discovery.
"Please don't kill me," Emil begged. Then suddenly he realized that, of all the places to die, there were far worse places than at home and doing the thing you loved. He slowly blinked, realizing that any more fighting was just going to make her rough him up harder.
She kissed his neck and licked him in a few different places, taking in his scent and his taste. "Va pee, vapee ."
Could her day get any stranger? Would a human really want to mate with a Pokemon? How completely preposterous! But, was it really? Pokemon that couldn't reproduce mated from time to time, why not a human? And why not, Emil? He was a good human: he never hurt her, was always there for her when she needed him, and he had a secure comfortable den with anything she could possibly ask for. In some ways his mind was an intricate knot-work of labyrinthine puzzles that she might never figure out for sure, but in the most important ways he was as predictable as an egg timer.
She rubbed her genitals against his back, remembering how it felt before he made it to the ground. She liked it, it didn't feel strange or unnatural. After all, she was somehow expected to make eggs with a Wailord , according to one or two of the scientists she overheard; at least she knew where all of Emil's naughty bits were supposed to go. Whenever he touched her it felt right, and that was a feeling she hadn't gotten anywhere else as long as she'd been alive.
"Eon… Eon…" she cooed as her mouth pushed between his shoulder and his head. She had to shove his head to the side with her paw because his neck was so tense. "Eon… Eon…" She licked his throat tenderly, purring in the back of her throat, looking around for the throbbing of his main artery.
Emil, still not able to breathe entirely, held completely still, preparing himself for what he was pretty damn sure was his throat getting torn out and him being eaten alive. He'd read stories of mon going totally feral and eating their trainers, but it was extremely rare. "Sorry mom, sorry dad…" he whispered.
She bapped him on the head for being a wimp, a little rough but not enough to hurt him.
Then she licked some more, enjoying the moment and taking in all the intricate flavors at play. First there was the day to day stuff. Alcohol, metal taste, cloth. But then it went further. He tastes sweet but unique… Like rich earth planted with mint and lavender. It didn't take long for her to get there either, he cleans himself thoroughly. She buried her nose into his neck and smelled deeply. This was where a mon's true scent was strongest, so why not a human? The smell of dark coffee, machine oils, old books, and various chemicals like in his bedroom. That's awful, no, that's not his smell, that smells like Father's home. She stayed there and kissed his neck to let him know he was ok, not that it made much of a difference… he was busy having a panic attack. Ah, there it was, she took another whiff and finally she broke past all the temporary stuff and found him. He smelled like the musky earth of a cave, of an underground river that pools up into a glistening subterranean lake. So much beauty hidden way under tonnes of soil.
She liked what she smelled.
Could this be her mate? Would his babies be smart and strong and beautiful? Could they make babies at all? Ah well, she thought, she was going to try anyway… so long as he was game. She smiled a little as she licked the skin a few times just above his jugular and took a large patch of loose skin into her jaws between her sharp canines.
Emil's eyes teared up as he thanked life for letting him experience good things before it all ended. He knew he messed it all up, but he still was grateful for everything. For meeting Richard, for all the hard work he'd put in with him, sticking his neck out for him, all the comfort it had afforded him that year. "Sorry, Rich…"
She clenched down and bit his skin, just enough to let the blood draw a little onto her tongue. Then she hopped off of him and perched up on to the couch facing away from him. She lifted her tail and crooned her head back over her shoulder blades like an owl might. She had roughed him up a bit, so she was going to give him a little extra time to get it together. Meanwhile, she licked her paw and took in all the amazing flavors she had extracted from him. She would never forget Emil, even if this crazy thing didn't work out, that's just how it worked when you took on a mate. His blood was pungent with fear and arousal. Sure enough, he was hot and bothered… and terrified. She giggled at the whole thing.
Emil laid there for what might have been only a minute, but it felt like an eternity. Eventually he found the courage to look up and saw her with her tail raised, patiently waiting for him. He felt his neck and was greeted by a little smear of blood across his fingertips.
"Vapoooreeeeeooooon..." she cooed, sounding like someone trying to coax a scared kitten out from under the bed with a snack.
"I…. you…."
He was dumbfounded. His brain finally was able to start processing everything that had happened. She had tackled him, pushed him down and bit his neck. He wasn't dead? Thank Arceus, or whatever moralistic god he was supposed to be praying to, whatever vicious animus had taken her over had completely gone. Now she was playful and her tail and hips were raised in front of him. Wait… Had she marked him? When Field types claimed a mate they mounted and bit the neck. There was a bit more to it, but not enough for him to suspect anything else. He had to think about this more, he-
Her tail fins smacked his face, and she huffed in annoyance. She tilted her head and exposed her neck, clearly signaling what she expected from him. "Vapooreeoon…"
He climbed over her, carefully, slowly… so slowly… so annoyingly slowly. To her it was like watching a hatchling try to figure out mating for the first time. She had to have patience, she told herself, he wasn't a Pokemon. He pushed her into the couch, careful not to injure her broken leg any further, and she squeaked favorably. He pushed his weight down on her as she continued purring and fighting him with playful shoves and scratches. Finally he put his mouth onto her neck, found a loose patch of soft smooth hide, and tugged on it a little bit. It was harder than he expected since she was so toned and in shape, but she cooed and vocalized pleasantly as he struggled with the process, gently guiding him in the right direction with her chirps and growls. He bit down; not enough at first and she growled at him for the sin of being too gentle. He bit harder and harder and she chirruped and squeaked in unmistakable delight. Finally he experienced a little bit of sweet, hot, exotic tasting blood running in his mouth and he let her go.
Her scent was everything to him at that moment. Even her strange flavors were beginning to become part of his mental space, and he lavished in it as he leaned back against the couch to integrate what he was experiencing. She hopped up onto his chest, the exact arrangement they had started the night in, and nuzzled his face. She didn't make any more vocalizations, she was tired and her leg pain was starting to flare up, all she wanted was to curl up with Emil and finally get some rest with her mate.
Emil kissed her cheek. He rubbed her back, her tail, all the places she liked and she purred as he was lulling her to sleep. Then his hand started reaching back into her genital region and she slapped his palm with her tail. She pointed with one free paw at the cast on her leg, not even opening her eyes to interrupt the comfortable trance he had put her under, then snuggled up into a tight ball in his chest.
Emil chuckled nervously. His heart was still pounding, but he would have to figure out some way to get his excitement under control. He'd have to be a good boy, at least for now, and give her what she wanted: a good night's sleep.
