Forbidden Waters – 11
[LARGE PARTS OF THIS CHAPTER HAVE BEEN REMOVED FROM THIS VERSION OF THE STORY SEE A03 OR INKBUNNY FOR UNCENSORED]]
Gods, she loved it…
...the smell of water lilies in bloom...
...of days that magically passed without the unwanted knock of a clock at the door...
...where the only thing you really needed was a full belly and a warm, cozy hole…
...and wretched, petty human games go to die...
… as the struggle for life is met head on, with everything you have, every single day…
... She loved the sensations of the wild river-ways…
...the rules of nature laid bare…
...the softness of a nap in a pillowy cradle of the Arche Valley grasses…
… exhausting nights in a cave, hidden from the legendary torrential lowland storms…
...of a restless stud invading your body…
...and the warmth of a lover so deep inside you it's impossible to forget…
"Haa...haa…. I… {I love you Fenni…}" Valorie said, finally able to fight her mind past the jungle of messy amorous vines her skull had become.
He smiled and squinted playfully. "{I know.}"
She howled with laughter and slammed her wrists into those venerable ol' logs they had just rutted all over. "{Screw YOU, pipsqueak!}" She jumped up and towered over him, and her eyes drilled into his soul.
He listlessly rolled his head upward, eyes lost in her jadite gaze, and folded his paws together in a scheming clasp. "{What, Val? You know I mean it,}" he cooed as he licked his fur clean.
Her eyes opened wide and her hands balled into steel-tight knots.
"{EEEP!}" he squealed as he suddenly lost all constitution, curled up, and scrambled away from her feet.
Valorie cackled and propped her hands on her hips, letting the river of fiery hair cascade from her head like strings of copper poured from a clay crucible "Just like I thought! Filled in a nice thick dick, but yer still my lil bush-baby at heart.}" She knelt down and kissed him on the cheek. "{Don't'chu worry, darlin', I'll keep you safe from them big mean Garchomps when they come stomin' through.}"
Fenni looked away as he stood, cheeks puffed out and smoke billowing from his nostrils like a simmering kiseru pipe. He reached for his focus, a gnarled willow walking stick he'd worn smooth with love and attention over the years. "{I can handle a mountain-maw all by myself now.}"
Valorie popped her back, neck and knuckles and then stretched out her body. "{I know ya can. Just gotta get outta yer own way, baby.}"
Her Delphox lover bashfully waddled over to her and pecked her on the cheek. "{'Bout time we headed back. But without anything to stuff some faces with ol' Pangoros gonna give us a mouthful of something else for sure.}"
She smirked and walked over to her squirming, orphaned pole. "{Well, since you did such a good job filling my belly, least I can do is fill yours a little bit.}" She whipped the pole upward suddenly and smiled as the line pulled taut again, threatening to yank her into the water. These lines were nothing like the ones fishermen used in human circles, it was a woven steel wire bonded to her pole by brass fixture, more a weapon than a simple snare. She cried out and leaned backwards fighting as the surface of the water erupted into a geyser of bubbling aquatic energies. She slammed the brass spike at the back side of the pole into the raft, making one more divot in the wood amidst a hundred thousand that had been punched there before.
The both of them leapt to the other side of the raft as a gout of water barely missed them, rocking the raft and raining down like the torrents had come early that year. She stamped the pole down again, not giving the fish any quarter. "{Oh yeeeeaaaah, this one's enormous!}" she cried out, grabbing the line with her bare free hand and yanking with all of her might. Fenni curled his dainty paws around the line and tugged too, finally heaving a massive, gasping Seaking up on deck twice the size of her own torso with a six-inch hook pierced through its jaw. She drew one of her trusty serrated blades and stabbed down into the thing, but its scales were tough as redwood bark.
Its eye shot shot over and glared in their faces and its horn began to glow.
"{Fenni! C'moooooon!}" she howled to her partner as she brought the blade down with both arms gouging away at its old, calloused flesh. A buzzing flurry of glowing spikes shot from its head, barely missing Valorie's skull as it managed to gain back ground.
He shook his face and slapped his cheeks. "{Right! Gnnnnnnnnnn…}"
He spun his staff around and stopped with it level to the ground before him. His eyes glowed an impossibly deep violet and he threw out his palms with his focus like a sumo wrestler displaying his mighty presence. Slivers of wood and droplets of water started to rise around him as a fiery purple energy dove in and out of his fur.
One of the Seaking's desperate strikes gouged her arm and she dropped her knife into the water. "{Dammit! Hurry!}"
"{...nnnnnnnnnnnrrrrrRRRAAAH!}" A shock-wave of barely-visible psychic energy rippled away from his body, reversed course in the air, and came crashing down onto the unfortunate old river dweller's skull. It's eyes jittered around and its spine writhed around randomly for a few seconds before it exhaled one last time and finally laid still on the raft.
Valorie looked back at Fenni, breathing heavy and mixing drops of her own sweat with musky river water and Pokemon blood. "{Hmm, not bad.}"
He looked at the water and his shoulders slumped as he spoke. "{Sorry about the…}"
She interrupted him by diving head-first into the verdant river and he scrambled over to the side, trying to peer into the water but unable to spot anything beyond the Ducklett-weed leaf mats. She was down there for almost two minutes… then three… then four. He couldn't go get her, but he had to do something. He held his paws out and tried to reach out for her with his telekinesis, but he still struggled with the technique and all he managed was to swell a pathetic boil in the surface of the water. He started hyperventilating, whimpering with his tail between his legs and his ears folded back. What the hell was he going to do? He couldn't swim like Valorie could!
Her head burst out of the water right in front of his muzzle and he jumped like a frightened pup. "{EEP!}"
Without a doubt, there was nowhere else she wanted to be.
Knife held reverse-grip, she smacked the blade down into the wood triumphantly and yanked herself up with Fenni's assistance, fat blobs of water descending from her exposed tits and downy hair. "{No need to be sorry, needed a bath after all. Couldn't go back home smelling like that. Might make folks jealous,} she said as the two of them chuckled, joining forces tugging on a woven-vine rope that tethered them to a tree up-stream.
As Valorie wound the rope up and heaved it up onto a wooden spike hammered into an ancient weeping willow and Fenni slung their catch over his back she felt the ground rumble behind her like an earthquake practicing taiko drum drills.
A massive old Pangoro with a salt-and-pepper hide sagging from his muscles with age towered above them both like an old-grove tree. He was littered in wild clusters of scars earned from a long life in the wild and his jaw hung unevenly from a skull that looked crumpled-in like a discount grocery cereal box. His rumbling crescendo finally came to a close as he stopped two feet from them both. "{Val.}"
Fenni's entire upper body shot down and Val's head tilted sideways in confusion. Eventually she bowed a little and then she started bundling up their supplies. "{Afternoon, Chief. Got a mighty hankerin' or somethin'? Not like you to get impatient over a little fish.}"
He rumbled in his chest as he chewed on a stalk of sugarcane like a freshly cut stogie. Chief Pangoro always acted like this when he had a lot to say but didn't want to say any bit of it. Even after she'd spent most of her adult life with his people she could still sense he struggled to ask her for help. Some-mon tried to explain it to her once, something about not wanting to look over-reliant on human trickery in front of the other indigenous clans.
But heaven-on-earth never is forever, is it?
She could feel it in her chest, something was wrong. Something was really really wrong and she was his absolute last resort. "{What's wrong, Chief?}"
He waited for them to get their stuff in order before he spoke again. No point in leaving things a mess here, that wasn't his way and never would be. "{Come.}"
She looked over at Fenni, who's glamorous yellow eyes always betrayed his emotional state like a new-age mood ring. He chewed on nothing particular in his jaw and rubbed his chin nervously.
"{Ya heard the mon. Let's go,}" Valorie blurted out and tugged on Fenni's paws to join her up the path to Stoutwood Village.
It's difficult to describe to normal folk, it is. That smell of a massive gathering of Pokemon in one place. Even the few time's she'd managed to scrape together enough Pokedollars to see the local fashion contests, the smell wasn't the same. That smelled like vanity, like trickery, like lies. Acrid and pungent like a pampered doll. No, this place smelled like home. A couple hundred Pokemon of all sorts and sizes getting along, helping to keep the savage world around them at bay with each other's unique abilities and talents. Cozy, welcoming, like a warm, dry hug after days marching in the rain. The place was a massive dome of branches, bug silk curtains and canvases, and ragtag wooden architecture worked into a circle of truly ancient redwoods. Each of those redwoods had beautiful names she couldn't say in any Human tongue, no matter how hard she tried, and each of them swarmed with smaller Pokemon crawling up and down and here and there doing whatever duty they'd been assigned. The inside of the place thrummed with pokespeech as the older mon went about the business of managing the younger stock and preparing food supplies for the winter and the rains.
Pangoro wasn't wasting any time as he lurched down and waddled his way in through a circular doorway of sorts made from silk webbing. Several Pokemon, Lucario, other Fennekin, Raichu, and a handful of multi-species scavenger packs home for a short time between runs, greeted her with joyous smiles and she returned their gestures. She motioned with her hips at Fenni to take the fish to the prepper mon and waved him off. "{Talk to you later, Fenni.}"
Fenni pecked her on the cheek and reluctantly tried pulling himself away from her. He looked around in despair as a much older Female Delphox in a silk apron scowled down at him and then bonked him on the head with a club-shaped tree root she had adopted as her focus decades ago. "{Really, my child? Again? You've finally filled in your fur and you're still wasting your seed on the one female in the Clan that won't sire me any grand-hatchlings!}" She waved her paw cheerily at Val. "{Good to see you, Valorie, dear!}"
Val giggled and smacked Fenni on the rear towards the old female. "{You too, Miss Delphox!}"
He huffed and folded his arms, looking away. "{I mate with who I wish, mother!}"
She squinted. "{Bah, stubborn pup! You owe me at least one live grandbaby! There's a nice Lucario female who just got accepted in to the tribe while you were out catching that… what a monster of a Seaking! Excellent job… anyway, she's egg-less too. I'd like you to say hello.}"
He sighed, "{Mooooom…}"
She jammed her paws into her hips. "{At least take her for a mountain walk and get to know her a little, hmmm?"}
He closed his eyes and rubbed his temple in frustration. "{Fine.}"
His mother gushed with pride and hefted the fish onto a wooden table to take apart for preservation. "{Ooooh, you two will be so cute together, I can just feel it.}"
The Chief of the Village led Valorie beyond the bustle of the central area and pushed aside a thick veil of aging-yellow silk curtains leading into a hollowed-out tree trunk. He pointed inside and grunted, waiting for her to observe and respond. She could smell sickness in the air. Pokemon who hadn't bathed properly in a week or two, pasty phlegm stuck in the lungs and nostrils, crusty dried tears in crystalline clusters at the edges of their eyes. Five Pichu, four Caterpie, and even a Wartortle had been covered in quilted blankets and other pillowy comforts. Curled up in the back, barely conscious at all, was a newly-hatched Pancham hugging a leaf-stuffed pillow in distress. They were being made as comfortable as the Clan could afford, and normally that was enough, but clearly they'd been here a long while for the Chief to start worrying. Their coughs were weak, their breathing unsteady, and they tiredly waved at her like they had been drinking from a rum cask from dawn 'til dusk. Their skin and fur had gone pale, as if they'd been bleached out in the sun like salty stacks of driftwood.
"{That looks like} White Woozy, {Chief.}" Val said, recognizing the signs immediately. She covered her mouth and made him close the curtain behind them.
He rumbled in his throat, looking down on her with sadness in his eyes. "{They might die?}"
She nodded. "{Yeah, even with} 'round-the-clock intensive {care it's probably a} coin-toss {whether they make it, if it's what I think it is.}"
Pangoro scowled and chomped the stalk in half. "{Your human words are confusing.}"
She was taken aback. Not like her to let her old tongue slip in. "{Ah, sorry chief. I'm saying it's equal chances they make it or don't. Pancham, probably less likely. That stuff spreads like wildfire too.}"
His shoulders sagged in despair. His body rumbled as he breathed out a huge sigh and sat down on a log that was way too small for his massive tuchus, looking off into the distance as if he was asking a million questions to the wind and rain.
Val knew exactly what he wanted, so she decided to stop beating around the bush. "{There's medicine for it at the bigger human places. But it's not cheap, big guy.}"
He nodded and bit down on his stogie again. "{It is a lot to ask.}"
She brushed the curtain aside and peeked into the infirmary again. She sighed, smiled coolly, and shrugged like she'd been asked to mow the lawn. "{Never too much for family, Chief. Just might be gone a while gettin' it is all.}"
He nodded. "{What should we do until then?}"
She wrapped her arms around him, pressing her body into his flabby skin, and admired the rippling muscles just below the surface. Chief only had fun with her once ages ago, and now wasn't the time to flirt, but she never passed up an opportunity to admire the body of a titan like him. "{What you're doing is good. Make them drink way way more, they might cry about it but its best for them. Give them lots of tangy fruits. I'll be back before ya know it.}" She smiled and pointed her thumb at her own face. "{I've got this, they're gonna be alright.}"
He patted her gently with a paw nearly twice the size of her head. "Rest tonight. I'll tell the preppers not to look for you tomorrow morning.}"
She bowed to him and waved goodbye, then began marching towards her own little corner of the Village. On her way there she was tripped up and surrounded by a gang of Pichu, led by a single disheveled Pikachu, and supported by a smattering of Weedle. "{Val's back! Val's back! Val's back!}"
The Pikachu, which had taken to wearing a little necklace with one of her spent rifle shells strung to it as a pendant, pointed to her as if he was making some sort of national decree. "{We're here to catch you, human!}"
Val's face lit up with devious excitement. "{Is that so, bushbabies?}"
His adorable little chubby face swelled with embarrassment. "{I am no bushbaby! I am a great Clanhunter now, have you forgotten?!"
She cackled and ruffled his cheek fur, yanking her hand away as sparks began to sting her flesh. "{Oh yes, I've heard about the mighty Budew you fearlessly vanquished! A tale of heroism, to be sure, Pikachu.}"
Completely oblivious to her sarcasm, he closed his eyes and pointed to her again. "{Exactly, and now we've come for the greatest prey of all. Ready everyone?}" he asked, and suddenly all the Pichu started dragging coils of rope out from behind a nearby stump.
Feigning surprise and fear, she began walking backwards towards her hollow. "{Hey now, mighty hunter. Perhaps we can talk about this.}"
As she walked closer and closer to her den, the officious little Pikachu bided his time. "{A hunter never negotiates with his prey!}"
She reached down for her knife and growled as she crouched and continued her footwork in reverse. "{Well then, it looks like this cornered animal will just have to fight then!}" The lot of them surrounded her in a u-shaped mob, armed with ropes, hooks, sicks, and bolas that probably couldn't hold against a stiff breeze, but she played along.
"{Fight all you want, we've got you this time.}" His head bobbed as he carefully measured some distance.
"{You'd better, or the smooching you'll get this time will be truly wicked.}" Val threatened, smiling in delight.
The Pikachu retched as he poked his little finger in his throat. "{You'll get no such chance! NOW!}"
A team of Weedles and Caterpie tugged on a silk line at both ends that had been masterfully hidden beneath the soil and leaves, catching her heels and she gasped as it stuck to her feet. A couple more wrapped a second line all around her ankles and she started hopping on one toe as she slowly made her way down to the earth. "You sneaky little shit!" she yelled out on reflex, and fell with an oof into a pile of leaves where some blankets and other cushioning had been placed for her.
The entire pack of hatchlings cheered in delight, hopping up and down like a sea of finger dolls. "{Hahahaaa, made you use those funny human words!}" one of them chirped.
Several onlookers howled with laughter at the spectacle and Valorie couldn't help but giggle and eventually laugh with them at the prank. "{Oh my goodness, I've been foiled! But what ever will you do with me now?}"
The Pikachu approached and rubbed his chin, deep in thought. "{I never liked the taste of human anyway. I shall set you free, only if you promise to teach me more of your mysterious human hunting moves!}"
She grumbled in an exaggerated fashion. "{Bah, a tough bargain, but very well. When I return from work I shall teach you a technique so secret even most hunters never learn it.}"
He leapt up with excitement. "{Promise?!}"
She booped him on the nose and he shocked her for the privilege. "{Promise}"
His paw unfurled a worn out old folding pocket knife and he cut the lines holding her legs. "{Be safe, Val!}" he said, suddenly dropping any and all pretense of superiority. He snuggled up into her chest and she smooched his forehead, though it clearly made him blush and look away.
And anything nice in this world comes with price...
Val finally managed to get a moment of peace and she slipped into the shadows. Her personal hollow was tucked away in the upper branches of a massive willow. She'd built a wooden floor up there slowly over the years and the silk-weavers maintained a carpet of webbing above the branches to keep her dry. There was a simple bed carved out like a canoe from a fallen log with cushions she'd sewn herself, and even a chest held shut with a pair of handcuffs to store her human things. Out of sight and out of mind. She untied a tiny key from within her bushy mane and unlocked the chest, breathing in and out as she started her ritual.
She pulled out the first thing available from the chest, her trusty Gliscor Semiauto Carbine. It was the favored weapon of rangers world wide with its sturdy wooden furniture, rugged 4x scope, notorious indestructibility, inerrant reliability, and cheap, plentiful twenty-round box magazines. Nearby was a green canvas bag with her maintenance kit. So began the rites. She disassembled the thing, bit by bit, placing each item nearby on the bed so it wouldn't get lost. She reminded herself the name of each item, in human words, priming herself so she wouldn't stumble later on. She then greased each mechanical bit with an oily paste she hand-pressed from berry seeds over the years that made excellent lubricant, she brushed out the barrel with the paste, making sure it did not corrode, and then she meticulously reassembled her weapon and fastidiously checked the mechanisms for correct operation. She opened a leather pouch and counted the ammunition within. Five rounds, that was it. After months out here she'd burned through her supply of ammo far too quickly. She scolded herself for being so careless and promised she'd do better next time. Supposed it was good she was heading back out now, she thought. She counted one, two, three, four, five in human speech as she thumbed them into one of the box magazines, smacked it into the breech, and chambered a single round.
Click. Safety first.
Next she went through her inventory of human clothes. This was always awful for her. She loved the freedom of nudity afforded in this climate, and clothes made her feel like she was being smothered in blankets all day. Each time she bought new clothes from the flea markets it was like buying doll clothes from thrift stores: eclectic, mismatched, poorly fitted. And when she finally chose something that did fit well, she inevitably ended up looking like a barbie wearing an outfit made for a G.I. Joe. She grabbed up some mens boxer shorts, camouflage cargo pants, wool socks, a pair of well worn combat boots, an olive drab tank top, and (her absolute least favorite) a bra. Gods she hated the bra, but it was the one thing she couldn't do without if she was going to be around other humans.
She bundled all of that up and nodded as she heard someone climbing her little enclosure. A long half-set of ears gave it away immediately, a bright eyed Lopunny peeked her head up and smiled with a cute little head tilt that showed her right ear cut down to a fluffy nub and matching scar on her cheek that followed the angle of the cut. "Howdy, Hannah," Val mumbled, making sure her inflections were right.
"Miss Valorie, the Chief says you are leaving. Do you… want help?" She spoke in perfect human form, wringing her own good ear nervously as she asked.
"Long as ya don't mind comin' with me ta the falls. Gotta scrub off my smell first," Valorie said as she slung the rifle around her chest, hanging off her back.
Hannah smiled and started playing with her ear more out of habit. "Of course," she said in what was practically a whisper.
Sense of smell, and by extension your own scent, was so important to someone living like she did and she despised that she had to do this. Hanna smelled of porridge and freshly ground turmeric. Fenni smelled like charcoal and lavender. Some of the mon described Valorie like a live bonfire and of Cherri-Berry wine. Pokemon didn't use names so it was one of the ways you knew who was who, especially if you were human.
Hannah was an exception of course, since she was an escapee from a black-market brothel. She spoke perfect human, though sometimes with a small vocabulary, and knew how to help a gal groom herself when she wasn't very good at doing it herself. Valorie hooked the rope handle of a wooden bucket hanging from a nail on the way out and the two of them walked along the trails for fifteen full minutes making painful small talk: weather this, people that, news, drama, taxes, blah blah blah. Turns out training to be a hooker meant learning to talk about nothing for a while before and after you got dicked. Hanna had no actual knowledge about any of these topics (except the weather, she was quite prophetic in that regard) but she spoke so generally so that Valorie could get back into the groove of acting normal again.
She swung the thing with both arms and dredged up a fat bucketful of sand as she approached a bitterly cold waterfall that cascaded over a basalt cliffside. She gasped as it crashed against her body and gritted her teeth as she began dragging the sand against her flesh with a textured wooden block. Away went layers of protective coating the body made to protect itself from the elements built over months of roughing it and all the wonderful, complex smells that came with it. It hurt too, since getting to where she didn't stink meant she'd need to do that for almost an hour without any soap. She ran the water through her hair the entire time until she stopped seeing schmutz in the flow.
Her skin was red with abrasive marks and her whole body ached, but she finally walked over to her friend, shivering. Hannah, smiling now that her duty could begin, snuggled up behind Valorie, bum to crotch, and let her lean up against her body to dry against her radiant fur. "Warm up honey, hehehe," she giggled quietly, wrapping her arms around Val's shoulders, still holding her ear like it a child's security blanket.
"Smell anything?" Valorie asked, body finally finished complaining about the cold.
Her nostrils rose and fell, eyes listlessly closed, and she shook her head. "Scentless. At least to a human. Hold still, now," she said in a hush so low you would have missed her if you weren't already listening for the sweet girl.
Valorie complained the entire time, every single time, without fail. Like a five-year-old girl hastily getting their hair brushed because the family was late for church. Combing out her knots and matting took a very very long time, so it was best to start the process there right after she got clean when the hair was still moist. It was nice to have someone to snuggle with though, Hannah had breeding in her that made her enjoy the feeling of warm bodies against hers, and she had all of the most expensive vaccinations Sylph Med had to offer at the time she ran away, so when she ended up there, Valorie made sure Pangoro got her to work caring for the hatchlings and the sick.
As she got her hair brushed out, Valorie unfurled a waxed-leather pouch containing an old military dexnav bearing the sabre and grape-vined symbol of the Kalos Royal Navy. On its surface it read 'V. De Blanc' in embossed plastic lettering. Might as well get up to date on what was going on, she figured in her head. This part of the ritual mattered a lot less to her lately since that little group of Pokemon lovers fell apart, but at the very least she needed to get the work-meet schedules so she knew when to be there. Mr. Gyarados stayed in touch, and he was talking with that Mason kid, whoever he really was. She'd let that crazy old guy risk his hide with Mason. She wasn't about to risk getting to know anyone else that close, no sir.
People were the price of her paradise...
Hannah finished brushing her gorgeous Pawmi mane out into a long, silky waterfall of her own, then started binding it up and weaving it into a single, easy to manage braid that hung all the way down to her ass. Hanna giggled as she tied up the braid with handmade twine that she'd woven from a circle of little wildflowers, even pinned a few freshly bloomed heather to her hair so she wouldn't feel so self-conscious about not having a scent anymore.
Valorie gave Hanna a monstrous hug for her time, a smooch on the cheek for her services, and promised to bring her home something nice just because. She dressed up, finally saying goodbye to her naked form, and sighed with sadness as she laced up her boots. Bound up like this she looked like your classic, aloof off-duty military gal secretly waiting for a husband to sweep her off her feet, but deep inside she was a wild animal ready to tear the throat out of any human male daring to try too hard to get into her pants.
She always got weird looks in the village after the ritual was complete. Her smell was gone, she had practically shifted shapes like a Ditto, she was dressed like those mean humans that hurt Pokemon for sport, and that rifle… the rifle didn't ever help.
Fenni came by that night to love on her, kiss her goodnight, and like always he tried to sleep that night in her hideaway but she could not let him stay. This life had to be put on hold so she wouldn't taint it with whatever nasty human stuff she had to do to make enough cash to save those hatchlings and resupply. Finally, after making herself sit with the feeling of a chilly night spent without a bed mate long enough she'd finally become accustomed to the loneliness, she closed her eyes, ready to let that precious life sleep for a while. When she woke up, she'd be back home again: snuggling with Fenni or some other mate in a sun-touched field, gathering food for the winter stock, fixing the endless chain of things that broke, taking care of her fellow Clansmon in her own special ways.
… the bill had come due, yet again.
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Gods, oh-five-hundred came early.
Valorie sat on a wooden bench sipping on a cup of absolutely disgusting black brewed bottom-of-the-bucket coffee offered to them at lineup. She sat shoulder-to-shoulder with a hundred other 'skilled peasantry' in the darkness of the ass-crack of morning, waiting for business reps to come by and take whoever they recognized or desperately needed for whatever cheap labor jobs needed doing. From children barely old enough to lift a bucket of water, to elderly folk so ancient they practically looked to be trading their last few moments of life scraping up Pokedollars for the family. Unlike most everyone else there though, she wasn't going to take just any job. She was a woman with a very peculiar and well-honed set of skills, and there was a very choice crowd of business contacts with whom she'd formed a bit of a notoriety with.
Oh, and she had a weapon on her; kinda limited her job prospects a bit.
A man wearing a vivid, technicolor set of uber-fashionable ultra-modern business attire stood on a literal soap box in front of a couple neatly-uniformed guards in gray jackets and raised a megaphone to his lips. "Do not scramble or fight, if I see anyone getting feisty I'll end this workmeet in an instant, ya hear?" he asked aloud, stomping his shiny hand-made leather boots on the box.
She rolled her eyes. New guy. Looked like he was 17 at the oldest and that was on the outside. Whatever, not her lane she told herself and twisted her face up as she downed her putrid brew. "Yeah," she muttered along with the crowd, as was tradition.
He huffed. "I said, do you understand, workers?!"
The entire lineup became a long bowling alley of eyeballs rolling up into people's heads. "Yes, Yardmaster!" she shouted, channeling her inner soldier for a moment.
The man nodded in approval and began an impatient jog right back towards his luxurious looking houseboat. "Good, we'll be watching." He tugged on his boat's steam valve whistle so the circus could commence.
She never could figure out what a scramble really meant, because as soon as the regular employer types, the ones that had the easy safe work, waddled into the square they were mobbed and surrounded. For the first few minutes the place always devolved into a chaotic morass of desperate bodies yearning for cash.
She gagged as she spat out a bitter grit that had made it into her mouth from the drink. "Free is free," she told herself and bit down on the stale, brown roll of bread they'd given her. Now that she was thankful for. Bread, especially nutritious house bread like that, was a bit of a luxury out in the ungoverned wilds. Any time spent painstakingly gathering individual wild grains, grinding them into flour, making it into dough, and somehow working up an oven and baking it was much better spent going out and getting food everyone in the Clan wanted to eat. Sometimes she brought bags of flour to the village to make cookies she baked on a bed of coals, but it never lasted long since it was a special treat shared with everyone. Food wasn't what she needed money for. Medicine, ammunition, electronics, fishing gear, assorted tools were what she was after. Human things that couldn't be gathered up any other way, short of risking life and limb ambushing random travelers and robbing them blind, not that she was above that kinda ruckus.
Five of the men in the lineup sitting by her got fingerwagged over by a scowling old noble in a leather duster, and they left their partially-eaten buns on the bench. She scooped them up immediately and scarfed a couple down like she hadn't eaten in days, as the other remaining folk gazed at her like she'd just dove head-first into a trashcan.
"Oh, thank the Gods! Valorie's here."
Of all the days she could'a showed up for work…
Her head turned upward, mouth still masticating bread. She coughed, straightened her back, and chewed faster. "Murnin' Kurptin."
She was approached by a middle-aged man in a gray navy uniform speckled with gold buttons, baubles, bits, bobs, and brightly banded embroidery. He had an elegantly burnished pistol, belt, luxury-ball combo bound to his waist with the security of a ballroom chandelier, and wore a blood-red velvet tricorne hat. He reached out a red-leather-gloved hand and gripped hers hard. "Couldn't have picked a better day to re-emerge, young lady."
"What'cha got fer me, Cap?" Val asked, hoping it wasn't actually anything urgent or stupid. Both were dangerous to a vagrant like her.
He breathed in and exhaled a massive sigh of relief. "Big contract for the Royal Family! They have brought in guests from all around the globe by cruise for an important Pokemon League tournament and they've decided last-minute that they want us to give them a guided tour of Kalos' Famous ocean road to the capital. I can think of no human better suited to making sure the King's guests arrive safe and sound through a few of the more scenic routes."
Great. Urgent and stupid, she thought as she chewed on the offer like a strip of waxed leather. Anyone else she would have sat down again, but this was a client she couldn't say no to. Riverboat captains didn't qualify for the navy Admiralcy; this guy was what was known locally as a 'Captain General'. He was in charge of a whole fleet of riverboats and if he ever decided to wage a war and take control of the entire central river pass he had the manpower at his disposal to make it happen.
No wasn't an option, but she had something just as good. She squinted at him and said, "Four times my normal rate. Half up front." She popped the last quarter of a roll in her mouth and chewed comfortably.
"Right, done. I assume you're ready?" he asked, gesturing to the dock where one of his boats was already tied up. The party aboard didn't appear to be the typical royal pageantry, but instead seemed a lot more like fanny-pack wearing tourists. Richard Stone, sporting a pink designer golf polo, leaned against the railing of the steamboat and gazed out at the wilderness with childlike wonder. Emil hid in the shadows, dressed with neat, unassuming minimalist attire as Vaporeon glistened on his neck like a jeweled necklace beneath a ray of sunshine that somehow never managed to touch him.
She burst into a coughing fit as her lungs sucked up a clump of cheap carbs. "Y-yeah… you bet, Captain."
...she just had to pick today.
