Ghastly Adventures: Boulder 1.5 (ch. 5) (Patreon)

Terror wasn't anything comparable to fear. It was a lesson that I had already learned -- I used to get night terrors. The kind that leaves you frozen upon waking up, heart feeling like it was about to burst through your chest, and drenched in a cold sweat. Once you felt a taste of terror, there was no mistaking it for fear. Right now, what I and everyone else in the Gym felt at this very moment, was terror.

“Mimikyu!” Mimikyu snarled, hate dripping from the word. The kind of hate that couldn't be reasoned with. Mindless, thought consuming, blinding hatred that wouldn't ever be forgiven. Across from me, Brock sensed the change in demeanor even as sweat broke out on his brow.

Onix felt it most of all as the rock snake visibly shivered, recycling back out of fear. “O-onix,” I couldn't quite understand what Onix was trying to say. Not like I could with Phantump and Mimikyu. However, I didn't need to because that sounded a lot like an apology. It fell on deaf ears because Mimikyu tensed.

“Kukukuukukuk!” Mimikyu snarled before he vanished, appearing behind Onix and it reacted just in time to see what happened next. A shadowy hand emerged from the rag, the black smoke billowing violently from the tear, and it grew far beyond anything he accomplished in training. The hand engulfed Onix's face, and with a cry, Mimikyu drove the several hundred pound rock snake into the dirt with thunderous force. Enough that I thought the building was going to come down.

With a jerk, he flung Onix across the field, sending it back to Brock's side in an awe inspiring display of power. A large trench marked his path, boulders shattering like they weren't even there. It was pure monstrous might on display.

“Onix!” Brock cried out, and the sheer worry in his voice snapped me out of it. A single thought shooting lightning down my spine.

Mimikyu is about to kill onix.

I lurched forward, “Mimikyu! That's enough!” I called out even as Mimikyu prepared to bludgeon the pokemon that struggled to recover from the attack. Shadows swirled, keeping Mimikyu afloat, and I had no doubt about his intentions. I grit my teeth. “Mimikyu! That's enough!”

Mimikyu rounded on me and, for a single heart stopping second, I thought he was going to ignore me. But, even as he abandoned the attack on Onix and raved directly towards me like a speeding bullet, I never thought he was going to hurt me.

“Mimikyu! Kuukuku! Kukukkkukukukuu!” Mimikyu sobbed as he slammed into my chest, inconsolable. I patted him on the back, everything else falling to the side as I soothed him.

“It's okay. It's okay, I'm not mad,” I reassured him. “You just got a little upset. How about this?” I said, shrugging off my backpack and cracking open the medical case. Grabbing a bandaid that had little voltorbs on it, Mimikyu still sobbed like a child. Setting him on the railing, I pinched his costume, feeling ‘???’ brush over my finger as I did so and sealed the tear. Then, with a little finagling, I righted his head. “There, good as new!”

Mimikyu fell silent as he regarded the little bandage. “Kyu?”

“That's right. All better,” I reassured. I would probably have to stitch it up later, but that wasn't the point. The point was to console Mimikyu before he did something that couldn't be taken back. Mimikyu sobs choked off, looking at the bandaid with nothing short of wonderment. As if I had given him something of unimaginable value and, I suppose, to him I did exactly that.

“AN ADORABLE SIGHT TO SEE! TRULY, THERE IS NOTHING MORE PURE THAN THE BOND BETWEEN TRAINER AND POKEMON?” I flinched at the sudden announcement and- oh. Right. Gym battle. I kinda forgot about that. I looked across the field to see Brock had returned his onix, his lips pressed into a thin line. I couldn't read his expression very well.

Oh well. “I f-” I began, pretty sure that I had already been disqualified, but I was going to bow out with grace.

Then Brock raised his hand, “I forfeit the match.” Brock said, making my eyes widen. “Blair has shown the necessary ability to earn a Boulder badge, and my third pokemon wouldn't win,” he announced, just like he did with every trainer before me, but it rang a little hollow to my ears. That burst of emotional power… it had been incredible, but it wasn't sustainable. Or repeatable, because that meant pushing Mimikyu into that mental state.

“I… figured I was disqualified for using an unregulated item during a match?” I had read the rules. Something like a held item would be fine as the pokemon had entered the battle with it, but I used a bandaid during the middle of the match. It was only to fix his costume, rather than to heal, but it was still outside of the rules.

If Brock heard me, then he didn't respond and the platforms lowered. The gym floor was in rough shape as we met in the middle, I was in something of a daze. He presented me with a case and inside of it was the Boulder badge -- a rock. “It's going to be a controversial victory on your record, but you more than earned this,” he said as we shook hands, and I guess he did hear me.

“I don't really care about winning -- I just wanted to make sure Mimikyu was okay. Is Onix?” I asked and Brock offered a small smile.

“He'll be fine,” he said, his gaze looming to Mimikyu, who stiffened not unlike a cat with every hair standing on end.

“Kukukukuu!” He hissed, still rankled about the tear. Brock winced, paling ever so slightly.

“Look like he's holding a grudge,” Brock observed and that was a little disappointing. Brock was a skirt chaser, but he struck me as a good guy. “Is there any way I could make it up to you?” He directed the question at Mimikyu and… hmm..

“I might have an idea. We can discuss it later? I’ll be at the old water mill if you get a chance to swing by,” I offered and Brock nodded, seemingly happy that the bridge could be mended. I think he just didn't want a pokemon to hate him. Smiling lightly, we parted ways -- me with my first Gym badge. It wasn't the clean win that I wanted, but that was fine with me. The badge hadn't been the point.

I was officially out there. A splash had been made and I would soon see what the noise attracted.

For now, however, I had a few things I needed to take care of. First things first was a check up for Mimikyu so I headed straight to the Pokemon Center. The moment that I arrived, I felt the air in the lobby change -- a TV screen played a replay of the fight with two ‘battlecasters’ talking about Mimikyu. Theorizing about his Type, his strengths, and even about me, as his trainer.

I could practically feel them painting a target on my back as I headed to Nurse Joy, who smiled as a greeting. I felt the trainers in the lobby watching me, and I foresaw a number of battles in my near future. Oh well, more money and experience for me.

“Greetings -- that was an excellent match. Are you here to check up on your… Mimikyu, was it?” Nurse Joy asked me and I nodded, presenting Mimikyu to her. Mimikyu looked up at her with suspicion, then looking back at me with apprehension. “Is there anything we need to know of in particular about your pokemon, as he is an unknown species?”

I rubbed Mimikyu's back, “It would probably be best if you had a chansey look him over. He hides underneath his costume because he doesn't want people to see him. Seeing him directly could cause uh… fright induced heart attacks,” I told her, making Nurse Joy blink. And, to her credit, that's all she did.

“He sounds very shy,” Nurse Joy giggled while a chansey walked up from the back. I looked over the pink blob pokemon that simply radiated a calm delight. Mimikyu looked at her warily, still uncertain as he leaned into my palm.

“Nurse Joy and Chansey are going to make sure you're okay after that hit you took. I'll only be gone for just a few minutes-” I could already see the separation anxiety building. “I just want to make sure you're okay. I want you to be in perfect health… and I can't have you there while I'm buying you and Phantump's rewards for winning the match, now can I?”

Chansey stepped forward, “Chansey. Chan chansey,” she spoke to Mimikyu and some of the tension eased out of him.

“Ku…” With great reluctance, Mimikyu allowed himself to be escorted into the back, though he never stopped looking at me until he rounded the corner.

I blew out a small sigh and rubbed my eyes, already feeling exhausted and the day barely began. Adrenaline would do that. After getting an estimate of how long the check up would take from Nurse Joy, I went back to the communications room to see long rows of terminals, so e of which were in use.

Taking a seat at an available one, I fed in my trainer card and brought up my profile.

Blair Wych

Age: 15

Years as Trainer: 0.0

Matches: 19/0/0

Gym Badges: 1

Account funds: $15,021.33

Registered Pokemon:

Unknown Pokemon

Phantump

There was a lot to unpack there. I was surprised to see that my wins and badges had already been updated. It wasn't a surprise to see that Mimikyu was labeled an Unknown pokemon, though. The biggest surprise of all were the new funds in my account -- fifteen thousand dollars for winning a gym match? That, I didn't expect. How was that paid out? It was a publicized event, so maybe I got a portion of the ad revenue or something?

It took a weight off of my shoulders. I hated being poor.

“Hm,” I hummed, looking at the money in my account. Brock hadn't given me a TM, not that I needed one, but I was curious to see how they worked. With that much money, I could buy one. A ghost move? A grass one? Were there pros and cons of trying to teach a move naturally vs getting the information downloaded into their brains.

I had no idea, so I started looking it up. Which was a massive pain in the butt because I was dealing with AoL Dial Up internet speeds, which made no sense to me because pokeballs could apparently teleport if you tried to go over your trainer limit? They had machines that could download information into your brain? But a half a megabyte per second was considered lightning internet speed?

Pain in the butt or not, my research bore fruit easily enough. The general consensus was that teaching a move naturally was better, but far more time and effort intensive. TMs were a quick and easy solution, and shouldn't cause any issues so long as you diligently train your pokemon. However, the caveat was that if you were trying to teach your pokemon a move different from their Type -- some water types could learn electric moves, but it wasn't common -- then the recommendation was to just use a TM.

That information led me down other tangentially related topics. Flint had sparked a flame of curiosity in me when he mentioned the war. I wasn't under the impression that the Pokemon world was a peaceful place -- there were literally dozens of ancient collapsed civilizations, and the pokemon tower in Lavender town was proof enough. But one thing became readily apparent to me was how… segregated information was.

Part of it was the divide between regions. Each League was a nation in essence, even if they weren't formally called as such. Part of that divide created information gaps -- pokemon that I knew were pretty common in the Kalos region only had blips of information in Kanto. Typing, and most of the behavioral information came from observation from foreign trainers.

It went beyond that though. There was some pretty basic information that just wasn't common knowledge.

Arcanine. The evolved form of growlithe -- a rather common fire type dog canine that was most commonly seen with the police force.

People didn't know how to make a growlithe evolve. Oh, the thinking was there -- ‘I have a fire type pokemon, I have a fire stone, maybe I should use it?’ People weren't that dumb. But they didn't know. It wasn't common knowledge. There were dozens of websites and threads that asked the question ‘how do I evolve my growlithe’ and the answers ranged from ‘train it more, go to X location, expose it to X, Y, and Z, and finally, try a fire stone.’

There was so much misinformation with people making blind guesses. There were Arcanine out there, people knew it was possible, but they didn't know. Because, without fail the trainers, breeders, and owners kept a tight lip on what they did to make them evolve. It was a secret, one shrouded in mystery.

“I… should probably write down everything that I remember,” I muttered under my breath. The information I had was valuable. Beyond valuable. And… I guess that's why no one was sharing what they knew? Because of how beneficial it was to have that edge over any other trainer? A secret that could make you rich, so of course you wouldn't go spreading it around. “Money makes the world go round.”

There were other things that caught my interest, such as Fairy Typing wasn't a thing yet. The Kalos region was pushing for it -- some articles about research supported the theory, and they were coming close to finalizing the Type and reclassifying pokemon like… Clefairy, funnily enough. The rest of the regions weren’t following suit, and I’m not sure they ever would.

I started printing off information that held my interest and I thought was worth holding onto. As I did so, however, an alert appeared on my screen.

Incoming call from Mom.

Conflicted. More than anything else, that's how I felt at that moment. Part of me wanted to deny the call and just pretend that I hadn't seen it. I wasn't her son, in the end. But, I knew that was a cowardly thought. One to spare me from my feelings. Even if I denied the call, she wouldn't just go away. She'd still see me on TV, wondering why I wasn't answering.

Swallowing thickly, every bit as nervous as I had been for the Gym battle, I pressed accept. I regretted it almost instantly, but it was too late as a face appeared on the screen. A face that I'm guessing wasn't my mother given that the face belonged to a boy who was about nine or ten years old.

A little brother. We looked similar, though I noticed that his hair was more of a gray than a white like mine. His eyes were a dark shade of blue and, for a moment, he seemed every bit as surprised to see me as I was him. Then his face twisted into a gremlin smile that promised trouble. “You're in soooooooo much trouble~!”

That's not a promising start.

The kid scampered off and I heard bare feet on wood, “Mom! Mom! It's Blair! He's on the phone!” The kid shouted down the halls, and I recognized the tone. It was the same tone that all siblings used when they were getting someone else in trouble just so they could watch the show without getting struck in the crossfire. What a brat.

I heard the click and clack of heels before another face appeared. She, I'm guessing, was my mother. I'd put her around her mid thirties, maybe early thirties, though she did seem a tad older with silver hair and amber colored eyes. The scowl she wore certainly didn't help things either because she seemed less than happy to see me.

“Blair Wych! How dare you disgrace the family name!” She immediately began laying into me, her tone sharp and cutting. Family name? Now that she mentioned it, I guess that the living room did seem a little upscale. And she wore some expensive looking jewelry -- a Prism Scale? “Do you understand how poorly this reflects on your father and me?”

I genuinely had no idea what she meant, “I’m sorry?” I tried, feeling like I should apologize. For a wide variety of reasons. Most of all for not really being her son. Actually, her son was currently in his pokeball at my hip. And I was in his body. So, I guess that sorry was pretty loaded. More loaded than she hopefully ever learned.

“Then return home this instant!” She all but snarled at me, and I fought a frown off of my face. She was laying into me right out the gate, huh? I felt bad, only not for the reasons she wanted me to. “Running away, off to do this farce of a journey. I won’t have. You will return home.” She continued, and I think if she could reach through the screen and grab me, she’d do it.

I felt bad for her. For the family. I didn’t have any memories of them in my head. They were strangers to me, speaking to someone that wasn’t really there. She was coming off pretty strong, but maybe she was worried. Apparently, I ran away?

Unfortunately, I didn’t feel bad enough to jump at her beck and call. “I got a gym badge-” I began, trying to talk her around to the idea. It was proof that I had a vague idea of what I was doing.

“I saw. So did your father,” She said with a certain air of menece that implied that I was supposed to be afraid. Given that I only had Mom in my contact list, I figured that he was dead, walked out, or otherwise not important. “No. Enough. I won’t tolerate this willful rebellion. You are going to return home, get rid of those ghastly creatures you call pokemon, and you will do as you are bayed.”

This time I didn’t fight the frown. This was moving past worried and moving into outright controlling. “Um… no?” I tried and based on her expression, I don’t think she heard that a lot. “The only way you’re taking Mimikyu and Phantump from me is if you pry their pokeballs from my cold dead hands. I’m going on the Journey. I’m sorry for running away, but I have to do this. I don’t expect your support, so I won’t ask for any. I’ll manage on my own.”

It wasn’t something that could really be put into words, but this opportunity fell into my hands. I ended up paying for it with my life and everything that I had ever known. And, maybe, if I had woken up in a warm bed in a swanky house, I would have a different opinion. I didn’t. I woke up on the cold ground, a hole in my heart, and Mimikyu at my side.

I wanted this. I wanted to see how far I could go. It wasn’t just about revenge, though it was a nice side dish. The main course was the adventure -- seeing a brave new world, meeting interesting people, finding incredible pokemon. All of us walking forward on the same journey to a destination that I couldn’t even guess at.

No matter how I might feel for her plight, I was too selfish to give up this once in a life time chance.

A lifetime that might be cut short because the glare she gave me was a hairsbreadth shy of murderous. “Blair Wych, you will obey me. What do you intend to tell your father when he hears of this?” She hissed, absolutely livid. I had no idea where she was, but in that moment, as far as I was concerned, it wasn’t far enough.

I had no idea what she meant by that, and honestly, I had no intention of finding out.

So, I ended the call.

There was a brief moment of a profound silence before the call notification appeared again, and it might just be me, but the ‘Incoming call from Mom’ box seemed a lot more foreboding.

So, I blocked the number.

“That's… probably fine,” I decided, standing up and gathering up my research. I paused a moment more, giving the decision a second thought… “Yeah, it's fine.”

And if it wasn't?

That was future me’s problem.

…

The evolution thing made a little more sense now that I was shopping around, I reflected -- evolution stones were outrageously expensive. Prohibitively expensive. Tens of thousands of dollars for the cheapest ones, making the only real viable path to getting your hands on one to either find them in nature or by winning a contest. Given that you only found evolution stones in some of the most extreme places -- inside an active volcano, for example -- winning tournaments and contests was the only reasonable choice.

“Come on, you’re not still mad are you?” Brawly asked, fresh from earning his own Boulder badge. It had been a good match. His pokemon had the speed and the power needed to take out the rock pokemon, and Brawly ended up winning quite handily.

I rolled my eyes at him as we walked around the Pokemart. A more upscale one that carried pricer items. I wouldn’t have set foot inside of it if it wasn’t for Brawly telling me that you got discounts in cities if you had their Gym badge. I was looking for a couple of things in general, but one thing in particular. “Not really mad, but I’m going to get you back. What’s a super rookie?”

Brawly seemed genuinely surprised that I didn’t know. “Well, a real super rookie is someone that has won a couple of badges on the first try. You were called one because… well, you have a perfect record. And some of the people you beat -- like me, we’re sponsored trainers. People notice that kind of thing.” It made sense, and I was a little annoyed that I needed it explained to me. “And you have about double the normal battles that most rookies have. I only have six official ones so far.”

“Huh,” I muttered, not really sure what to make of that. It just made sense to battle people and make a quick buck. So, what was stopping people from doing exactly what I was doing?

I probably should have asked, but I found what I was looking for. “Perfect,” I said, coming to a stop in front of a clothing aisle. Specially designed clothing to help deal with elemental attacks -- rubber-coated thread to deal with electricity, fire and water resistant cloth. I looked at the price tag and immediately blanched, but when I took off a mental fifteen percent… “A thousand bucks.”

The last time I dropped that kind of money on something was my car.

“Worth it,” I decided, grabbing a light tan colored cloak along with a sewing kit. Brawly cocked an eyebrow at me, but I didn’t answer as I moved on. There were two other things that I needed and I found them easily enough. A pokeblock maker -- a specalized blender for berries, which I could then feed to my pokemon. Secondly was…

Honestly, I’m not even sure what to call it.

A hammerspace bag? I had always wondered how in the anime, Ash and the group pulled out entire picnic gear, pots and pans, and so on out of thin air. That was because of their bags that held three times the space that they reasonably should. Why? How did they work? Not a single clue. Apparently, they weren’t that big of a deal because they only cost a low three thousand bucks. Still expensive, but given that it was disregarding the concept of space and mass, I would call it cheap.

The last thing that I bought was a bunch of pokeballs. I only saw the standard and the Premier balls, which were just a more expensive variation. A baker’s dozen should hold me over for a while, I figured. Finally, the last item of business was a TM for Phantump. The total was enough to make me flinch, but I paid all the same.

Checking the time I saw that we were still good as we made our way to the abandoned water mill. Well, maybe less than abandoned, I noted when I heard a cackle of electricity coming from the mill. “Marnie? It’s Blair from yesterday. Looks like you beat me here this time,” I called out, mostly to let her know that we were here. Rounding the building, I saw her pressing down on the water wheel, making it go a little faster.

She had been at it for a while based on the sweat. She looked over her shoulder at us, breathless but offered a small nod. “I suppose I could use a break,” she said, slowing down while Brawly looked at me questioningly.

“We met yesterday,” I shrugged, taking a seat and laying out the fabric. I probably should have taken measurements, huh? Well, I could guestimate a bit. Mimikyu was only around eight inches tall, though a portion of that came from his artificial head. Maybe I could do something with that?

“I saw your match,” Marnie said, climbing down from the water wheel. Her gaze flickered to Brawly, “and yours. You’re both good,” she noted, and I detected a hint of a challenge.

“So are you,” Brawly replied, not picking up on it. “Dark types?” He ventured, earning a ghost of a smile from Marnie.

“Hm. Fighting types?” She prompted, earning a nod from Brawly.

“Ghost types,” I offered, letting Phantump out of his pokeball. I- huh, “You feel alright buddy?” I asked him, making Phantump blink at me. He was still sporting the additional leaf buds on his horns and his stump was still a darker hue than was normal. In response, Phantump puffed out his chest and flexed his nonexistent muscles. “Good?”

Growth made numbers go up in the game -- attack and special attack, but it was for a limited time. Or it was used on the next attack, like Razor Leaf. Did he take in more energy than he could burn off? Should I be worried? Phantump looked fine…

I would just have to keep an eye on it. “Wanna help me make a present for Mimikyu?” I asked him and was answered with a ‘tump!’ before he grabbed hold of the fabric. I would prefer Brock’s craftsmanship skills here, but… I wanted to do most of the work on my own. So, taking some scissors, I got to cutting.

“Is that what it’s for?” Brawly asked before he grimaced. “I felt that in the challenger room. For a second there, I thought he was going to…” He trailed off and our eyes met. He heard the silent message I conveyed, ‘so did I.’ “He’s something else, huh?”

“You’ve probably single-handedly delayed everyone’s Journey. They’ll be combing the forest to find another Mimikyu after that performance,” Marnie noted. I wanted to argue, but Mimikyu had thrown around Onix like he was a toy.

I hummed before I tsk’d, already messing up a little bit. “Wouldn’t be able to give any pointers there. Mimikyu found me, rather than the other way around,” I said, knowing that she was fishing for information. Marnie blinked before seeming faintly disappointed. “It just means we’ll get ahead of the wait at Cerulean city. It’s pretty much a straight shot on Route one oh two, right?”

Brawly sighed wistfully at the thought of the ocean. “Pretty much. I might look to catch a mankey on the way, but I’m not sure they would really fit the vibe my team has going.” A mankey, huh? I probably should start looking to expand my team a bit. There were some pokemon that I wanted to catch -- a cubone, most of all. Adorable little guys and I’m pretty sure that there was a ghost variant?

Mankey also had a ghost evolution. Annihilape. It evolved from a primeape after using the move Rage Fist twenty times. I recalled something about being so angry that it died? That didn’t exactly sit well with me, to be completely honest. Killing a pokemon to hopefully get a ghost out of it? Maybe it was the exposure to Ghost Typing? I didn’t know, but it could be worth it to experiment a bit.

“I think I might too,” I mused. Even without the annihilape evolution, I liked the pokemon. Fiesty little buggers, and I think Phantump could use a rival. Then I glanced at Marnie, making the final cut to the cloth. Now I had to stitch it together. Shouldn’t be that hard, right? “Which way are you heading?” I asked, mostly out of curiosity.

She inclined her head to me, “Cerulean. I’ve heard it’s an easy badge to get, and there are some pokemon in the area that I could use on my team.”

“Want to travel together in that case?” Brawly asked, but Marnie shook her head.

“Sorry, I prefer to travel alone,” she rejected politely and Brawly shrugged, unbothered by the rejection-

“Fuck!” I cursed, jabbing myself with the needle. This… this was harder than it looked, I decided. The costume was coming together, but the stitches were uneven. Maybe I should wait for Brock- oh, speak of the devil. “Hey Brock,” I greeted him, waving a greeting his way and he seemed faintly amused with the scene.

“Brock?” Brawly asked, blinking in surprise at the Gym Leader’s sudden appearance. “You- what about your matches?”

Brock chuckled, “Canceled for the day. One of the trainers, Arlo, did more damage to the arena. It’ll take at least a day to fix it.” I got the impression that he was rather sour about that. And about the match, which told me that Arlo was a jerk. “It freed up my afternoon, though. What are you working on?”

I held up my attempt at making a costume and Brock winced. He tried to hide it, but… yeah. Fair. Honestly, Mimikyu’s rag had been better made. “It’s tear resistant, so it should prevent any more accidents. The craftmanship leaves much to be desired, though.” Brock took the costume when I presented it to him, examining it with a critical eye. Then he nodded and gave me a small smile.

“This shouldn’t be an issue. It’ll probably take an hour or two to clean up, though. Are you three hungry?” He asked, and that right there was why I couldn’t forgive Flint for what he did.

“I’ll never say no to a free meal.”