Ghastly Adventures: Cascade 2.1 (ch. 6) (Patreon)

Dinner was nothing less than pure chaos. Nine children of various ages, two sets of twins, all seated at a long table that could barely house them all as it was. I would give Flint this -- his genes were unmatched because there wasn't a shadow of a doubt in my mind that he was the father of them all. Those eyes were too distinctive. And their mother had been nothing less than a trooper.

Getting nine siblings to behave would be a feat worthy of Hercules. Getting them to be calm when their long departed father shows up after a year long absence? That wasn't gas on an open flame. That was dumping napalm on a forest fire.

“Where did you go? What adventures did you have?!” “Look at my drawing!” “I went to school today and I got a C!” “You aren't looking!” “Is mom going to come back too?” “I help Brock with all the chores!” “Can I see your pokemon?” “I want to wear your beard!”

All of it was said at once in various volumes to create a symphony of pure noise. At the center of it all was Flint, who looked like he hadn't stopped being overwhelmed since last night when he returned. On the other side of the table was Brock, who was cleaning up my stitching and double stitching it in some places. Perfectly at peace. I'm pretty sure what I was looking at was worthy of being painted into a masterpiece.

Off to the side were me, Brawly, and Marnie. The latter was sitting uncertainly as if she were questioning the series of events that led to her getting dragged here. Our pokemon were all sitting outside on the front lawn. Phantump was currently talking some smack to Brawly's tyrogue based on their back and forth. Marnie's pokemon looked on and they were an interesting lot.

Her impidimp was still missing, but her morpeko and pangoro were present. Her fourth pokemon wasn't one I had seen in person but knew well -- a sneasel. A haughty little thing based on the expression that she wore, looking upon the rabble.

“I see why you said what you said,” Marnie remarked to me in a low voice, watching the scene as nine siblings fought for their father's attention. Her whisper was nearly lost in the sea of noise, Flint's attention divided. He was completely overwhelmed, but he seemed happy. At peace.

“You heard that?” I questioned, earning a small nod.

“Hard not to,” she remarked, cocking a subtle eyebrow in my direction. “I thought you were being harsh, but I understand now.” She glanced at Flint, who was looking at a picture that had been all but shoved down his throat, trying to decipher what it depicted. Pretty sure it was an onix, but it was hard to tell given that it was pink.

I just took another bite of delicious curry, entertaining thoughts of asking Brock to come with us. I could cook, but I wasn't a great one like Brock was. A great cook who could also cook in industrial amounts. It was too much of an ask -- maybe if I didn't feel the love in the house, I might have.

“There, that should do it,” Brock said, holding up the remade costume. To my surprise, it was still pretty faithful to the one I made. The sloppy parts were smoothed over and cleaned up, but for the most part it was still the one I made. I guess I was expecting a complete overhaul or something? “The material is strong, so it should hold up in a battle with no issue,” he said, getting up from the table to pass me the costume.

“He'll love it,” I said, giving Brock an earnest smile.

He seemed relieved, “I'm glad. I don't want to be on his bad side,” he admitted with a small laugh. I opened my mouth to reply, only to get headbutted by Phantump, who had drifted over.

He was jealous. “Don't worry, I got you something too,” I reassured him, patting his head and he chirped with delight before giving my pack some serious side eye. “Don't even think about it.”

“Tump,” Phantump lied, not looking at me.

The byplay earned some warm chuckles, “Both of your pokemon seem pretty close to you. Have you been together long?” Brock asked, and I shook my head.

“Only a week or so,” I admitted and that made his eyebrows climb high.

“Really? That's… unusual,” he said, pausing to search for the right word. “Mimikyu was enraged during our match. I've seen more experienced trainers that have had their pokemon for much longer struggle to snap them out of a rage like that,” Brock noted. I took the compliment for what it was, but I had an inkling why that was the case.

Aura? Or my circumstances?

“Ghost types aren't usually so well behaved either,” Flint spoke up, the youngest grabbing him by the beard and pulling with all of her might to get his full attention. “It's part of their nature. Unresolved business is the typical reason for their creation, which leads to strong emotions -- hatred, malice, revenge.”

Hm. “Guess I'm just lucky then,” I gave a half answer and a shrug of my shoulders. It did, however, give me something to think about. Maybe I should make a more concentrated effort to find Ghost Type pokemon? Unlike some pokemon, which were region locked because of biological reasons -- completing resources, predators, and so on -- ghost pokemon could show up anywhere.

Lavender town had a number of them, I knew. I knew the requirements for others to be born -- Banette was an abandoned toy, litwick were found in abandoned mansions, misdreavus in graveyards or places that were generally spooky. Honestly, that fits the description for most of the Ghost Types.

“Hmm… I don't suppose there are any haunted houses nearby? Maybe a graveyard or two?” I asked, giving Phantump chin scratches that he leaned into like a cat. Brawly chuckled nervously and I got the impression that he wasn't much of a horror fan.

To my surprise, Brock nodded. “There are a few. I'm not sure if they're really haunted or not, but you could get… lucky, I suppose. In this case.”

“Lucky indeed,” I said, standing up. “Thank you for your help, Brock. and for the meal,” I added but he waved me off. “Would you want to come with me to give it to him?” I asked and Brock hesitated.

Then he shook his head, “No, I don't think that would be a good idea. Let him know that I helped, would you? And maybe the next time you're in Pewter city, we could have a rematch?” He offered a hand, and I shook it.

“Bet on it,” I replied and that was or cue to leave. However, as we made to do so, Flint followed us out.

Reaching into his vest, he pulled out a… rock? “Take this. It's a dusk stone,” he informed me, placing the purple rough rock into my palm. “I found in on my travels, and hopefully it will be of some use to you. I… Thank you. You gave me the shove I needed.”

A dusk stone. He was right, I could use this.

I gave him a small nod. “I'm happy for you. And for them. If you really want to thank me, then make up for it,” I told him. As he was, I still couldn't say that I liked Flint. But, one day, if he stepped back up to the plate, then I could respect him for moving past his demons.

Flint offered a small curt nod, saying nothing more.

I let out a sigh when we were walking away. Looking down at the stone, I felt its potential in the palm of my hand. Evolution stones were concentrated Type Energy. The power of a volcano, lightning, the sun, the moon, and dusk -- all of it condensed into a tangible form, waiting for a catalyst to unleash it.

There weren’t many pokemon that needed a dusk stone to evolve, but I knew of at least one.

…

“Mimikyu has gone through his checkup and he seems to be in perfect health. There were some… difficulties,” Nurse Joy admitted sheepishly, a wan smile on her face. “But they were handled without issue.”

“Kukkku!” Mimikyu cried out, leaping off of the table and landing on my shoulder, pressing his entire body against the side of my face. I rubbed him, sensing his anxiety. His fear that I had left him behind.

“Sorry for leaving you, buddy. But I had to take care of something,” I told him, setting him down on the ground while I reached into my bag to pull out a box. I set it before him, and while he looked at it uncertainly, I released Phantump. To him, I presented a second box. “They're rewards. We couldn't have won the badge without your hard work.”

Phantump opened his first, shredding the wrapping paper early like a kid on Christmas. Inside was what could be mistaken for a CD container, but it was vastly more expensive. “Phantump?”

“I know how you like battling, so I got you a TM. Toxic -- It’s a poison type move that’ll let you do some damage over time. This disk will teach how to use it,” I told him. The TM wasn't the one that I had wanted. The store only had a few, and only a handful were in my price range. Still, it was a good move for him. When Phantump evolved into Trevenant, we could look to turning him into a frontline fighter. For now, I wanted him to be a ranged type -- an intangible long rage fighter that sapped the enemy of their strength and used it to augment his own.

There were stars in Phantump’s eyes, quivering with excitement. I rubbed his head, glad that he liked the gift. Then I looked to Mimikyu, who was staring at the present with uncertainty. He glanced up at me, waiting for my nod before his shadow hands slipped out from the fringe of his costume to tear the wrapping paper.

Cautiously, he opened the box- “Mimikyu?” He questioned, his warbled voice awed as he lifted up his new costume.

“This one is made of sterner stuff, so it won’t tear so easily. Brock, the trainer of that onix helped me make it,” I added and Mimikyu didn't really react, leaving me to continue, “When I get some money, I’m going to make sure you have a whole wardrobe,” I told him. The costumes would fall under the category of held items, and that way I could give him some resistance to elemental attacks. The one he was holding now was an all-rounder, just generally tough. “Do you like it?” I asked him, because Mimikyu seemed frozen in place.

He answered with action. I saw… something blur out from underneath the costume he wore. I wasn’t sure what that something was. It was the visual equivalent of touching him, a big ‘???’ where my brain refused to process it. But, he slammed into his new costume, filling it out even if it meant the head fell to the side, still empty.

“Ku! Kukukukuuu!” Mimikyu cried out, leaping into my arms. However, a shadow claw snaked out from underneath the cloth to his old costume. In a display of almost reverence, he put the bandaid where it had been on his old costume. I smiled, patting his back before I looked up at the others. Whatever I had been about to say died on my tongue when I realized that Brawly wasn't standing behind me.

He was on the floor, pale as death. Marnie was next to him. And so were most of the trainers in the lobby who had been watching the scene. Moans and groans filled the room and I turned to one of the few left standing -- Chansey. The same Chansey that did Mimikyu’s check up.

For a pokemon that was the embodiment of happiness, she looked pretty unimpressed with me at the moment.

“Whoops?”

…

Turns out that it took a full twelve hours to recover from a glimpse of Mimikyu’s true form, which put us staying in Pewter city for another night. I was fine, though I struggled to actually remember what Mimikyu looked like. It did drive home how dangerous even a glimpse of his true form could be -- a single second took you out for a day… two or three would probably kill you. So, if we were going to use moves Let’s Snuggle Forever or Play Rough, we had to keep it to the three second rule.

Beyond that, the situation worked out in my favor as Brock had directed me to a couple of hotspots when it came to… was it still paranormal activity when Ghost pokemon were perfectly natural?

Mimikyu was on cloud nine, riding on my shoulder, as we approached a mansion on the fringe of the city. I figured that meant the owner of the old mansion was super rich, but my research revealed some interesting things. It didn't really feel like it, but humanity wasn't at the top of the food chain. Honestly, the only reason there was humanity at all was our aggressive domestication of pokemon.

Back in my old world, humanity had escaped the food chain entirely. The predators of the world only existed because we pretended to care about the environment. However, the moment that we decided that bears had to go, that species was gone. Utterly. A bear didn't have a hope in hell against an ICBM missile if we didn't care about how much money it would take.

Forget the Legendaries that occasionally redrew the map -- normal pokemon outnumbered humanity ten thousand to one. This humanity was more robust than they were in my world, but it was only due to humanity's partnership with pokemon that allowed the civilization to exist.

How was any of that relevant?

Money. The answer will always be money.

Purchasing property in a city would make millionaires weep. Most people had a degree of battle experience, but most people didn't make a career of it. Either through a lack of will, lack of desire, or lack of talent. So, they congregated in cities for ease of living. Which made the land more valuable and urban development beyond expensive.

However, it was comparatively cheap to purchase property in the middle of nowhere. It came with its own issues like dealing with wild pokemon who wouldn’t be so keen on someone setting up shop in their backyard. So, what most successful trainers did was buy a plot of land in the middle of nowhere, build it up a bit, and that in turn would attract settlers. A ranch became a village. A village became a town. A town turned into a city.

That's exactly what happened with the mansion before me. It was dilapidated, at least a hundred something years old, with more busted-out windows than intact ones. It had once belonged to one of the founding trainers of what would become Pewter city. Either because of property taxes or poor spending practices, the family lost the land at some point where it was sold for a lump sum. That family then sold it a decade later and since then, it traded hands a few times.

Pewter city ended up expanding in the opposite direction. It wasn't close to the heart of the city like it had been a century or two ago. It was still prime real estate, but it was out of the way now. Maybe, in the future, the entire thing would be torn down to build a subdivision or something. Today wasn't that day, luckily for me.

“Mimikyu. Phantump. We're going Ghost hunting,” I said, tying the incense infused bait to my belt loop. The fifteen thousand bucks I got off of Brock were vanishing shockingly quickly. I only had five thousand left. Before we left tomorrow, I was going to need to fleece some punk trainers for all they were worth.

“Kyu?” Mimikyu questioned and I nodded, reaching the door and with screaming hinges, it pushed open.

“That's right. We'll be making a new friend today,” I said. Provided there were actual ghost pokemon here. Regular ghosts were a thing, I knew. Hopefully, I wouldn't see any of them -- I was just here for some pokemon. Stepping into the mansion, I saw that it was almost pitch black. Without my dark vision, I wouldn't be able to see my hand in front of my face.

The mansion was in a deep state of disrepair. The kind of neglect you can't come back from. Scuffed floor boards, busted staircase leading to the second floor, rotten wood in the walls whose wallpaper peeled off. Nature was working to reclaim the mansion with veins starting to creep up the walls, leaves sprinkled one way or another, and there was a whistling howl from the breeze from the busted windows. It was perfect.

I wasn't really sure how to go about this, if I was being perfectly honest. Both Mimikyu and Phantump wanted to be my pokemon. It felt a little thuggish to enter someone's house, beat them up, capture them, and wait for Stockholm Syndrome to kick in. Suppose that meant I had to go with the tried and tested method. “If there are any ghosts here… be my friend!”

There. Nailed it.

My voice echoed down the dark halls as I waited for an answer. For a long second, there was nothing but a gentle howl of the wind but I heard it. The sound of a rusty hinge creaking. A slow smile spread across my face as I looked behind me, the front entrance slamming shut. I should be afraid, I had a distant thought. And maybe I was, just a little, but it was overshadowed by excitement.

I wasn't alone.

“You gonna come out?” I asked, knowing that the pokemon could hear me. Was it a ghastly? A shuppet? Oh, maybe a gengar? They've always been one of my favorites. To answer me, I heard a door slam in the distance.

I immediately took off running in the direction of the noise, stepping on dried out leaves and broken glass. Mimikyu and Phantump at my side and at the ready. Skidding to a halt, I grabbed the door and ripped it open to see some kind of super massive dining room. The chairs were thrown around a bit, the table up ended, and I think I found how mother nature was getting in because there was a wall of vines creeping into the house from a large broken window. I searched the room for the culprit. “Come on out. I won't hurt you! I promise! I just want to be your friend.”

I heard another squeak, making my gaze snap to a door that seemed to be connected to the kitchens based on how the door swung back and forth. Giving chase, I heard a noise behind me, and when I looked the dinning room was set up. The table was righted, the chairs were pushed in place. “Oh, telekinesis? Is that a general ability that ghosts have?” I wondered, pushing my way into the kitchen.

The pokemon certainly was putting on a display for me because the moment that I did, the kitchen erupted into life. Pots and pans began to move, as if the kitchen was filled with people working. A bell rang as if there was an order up, dust and spider web covered silver tops were put over plates of nothing and brushed past me to deliver dinner service. The moment the silver lids were lifted, everything in the kitchen dropped at once, filling the room with a clatter of metal.

“Mimikyu,” Mimikyu urged me, and I followed his directions, entering the kitchen without fear as some bowls wobbled. I didn't see the culprit yet. Or maybe it wasn’t a single culprit? That was a lot of telekinesis right there -- I would say a team of pokemon, or one really strong one. If it was a single strong one… I might have to cut my losses. I wanted a third pokemon, but not so badly that I was willing to risk our lives.

Rushing through the kitchen, I pushed open another door and at the end of a long hallway, I saw it. A glimpse of light. Had I gotten lucky? Was it a litwick? “Hey! You! Get back here and be my friend!” I exclaimed, breaking into a dead sprint to give chase to the small pokemon. The rotting carpet bunched up as I skidded to a halt, a wide smile on my face.

The hall forked, one side leading into another wing. As I skidded to a halt, I got my first real look at the pokemon and my suspicion was confirmed -- it was a litwick. A small candle shaped pokemon about a foot tall -- white wax made up most of its body, a small blue flame burned at the end of a wick. A single eye looked at me and I had to describe Litwick's expression at that moment… it would be panic.

“Hey! Hey! Don't you run!” I called after him as he beat feet to get away, vanishing around the corner. I ran after it to see that it had shoved another door open to hide in another room. Hm. If it was running, that told me it was on the weaker side. Had it really just been the one litwick?

I wasn't going to be able to catch it if I kept following. I needed to corner it. “Mimikyu, Phantump -- you're up. Let's flush ‘em out,” I instructed, earning agreeing cheers before Mimikyu skittered into the room itself while Phantump went down the other hallway.

I hadn't told him to, I realized as I went the other. Phantump had just done it on instinct. Or maybe I did tell him? Aura? Maybe?

Now wasn't the time to ponder because I heard a loud, rather distressed sounding, “Litwick!” It came a split second before a crash before I saw Litwick phasing through a wall to escape Mimikyu. There was real fear on his face now, especially when Mimikyu went through the wall. Simply busting through it with a Focus Palm to give chase. "Lit! Lit lit lit litwick!” That was rude. Very rude.

“Don't let him get away!” I ordered, running after the two of them. I needed to get the drop on him. I needed him to be funneled my way. As we ran, my gaze flickered to a set of rotting stairs and I made a split second decision. Time to test how well they could sense my thoughts.

The steps groaned under me and it was nothing less than a miracle that they didn't collapse under my weight. The stairs led me up to the second floor, which seemed to only be marginally better than the ground floor. A few of the rooms were missing doors, so I left them be. I walked them, twisting knobs of the doors that were intact until I found one that was locked.

Perfect.

Picking locks was a useful skill to have, when it came right down to it. I learned how when I got locked out of my car and ended up having to pay a locksmith to open it for me. The old lock of the door was rusted, and stubborn, but with a minimal amount of finagling, I managed to pop it open to see what had to be an old office. There was a painting on the wall but it was faded to the point I couldn't tell what it was.

The desk made a convenient hiding place so I ducked down behind it and I waited. I heard the occasional scuffle from down below as my pokemon chased Litwick throughout the house. And I really needed to examine what was going on between us because, just as I wanted, Litwick phased through the door, panting for air. I peeked over the desk to see that it was looking at the door, gathering itself to run again.

An idea struck me.

Ghost pokemon were generally mischievous. They liked playing pranks. To humans, those pranks might come across as cruel, but to the dead? It was all in the name of good fun.

I crept forward, approaching the ghost pokemon from behind as I grabbed the survival flashlight attached to my backpack. I moved slowly, but something must have given me away because Litwick turned around. I reacted instantly, turning my flashlight so it shined below my face, casting it in long dark shadows, “BOOOOO!” I yelled at the top of my lungs.

“LITWICK!” Litwick jumped a foot into the air before its expression suddenly went slack when it hit the ground.

Unconscious.

Well, that worked a little too well.

Mimikyu and Phantump made their way to me, drawn by the commotion and something else. The door opened up with squealing hinges, and I think that's what made the pokemon stir. He didn't seem particularly happy when he saw that he was flanked on all sides but his lone yellow eye turned to me.

“Is it just you here?” I asked the… girl? Yeah, the girl litwick, taking a seat across from her. Litwick narrowed her eye at me.

“Lit,” She answered, pouting that the prank had been on her.

It was just her? She didn't seem to be lying, but I found that a little hard to believe. There had been dozens of pots and pans and cooking utensils moving all at once. That kind of finesse I would have expected from a Psychic Type pokemon. “I told you I just wanted to talk. You're the one that ran,” I pointed out. I got the litwick equivalent to a tsk under her breath.

“If you want to stay here, I'll leave you alone. I promise,” I told her, earning her attention. “Mimikyu and Phantump joined me of their own free will. I don't have any intention of forcing you to join me. But, I would like it if you did. I'm a pokemon trainer -- all of us are on a, well… I suppose you could call it an adventure. Haven't you ever wanted to see what lies beyond this house? This city?” I asked and I could see Litwick's interest rising.

I nodded to her, reaching to my belt and taking out an empty pokeballl. “That's where we're going. You're welcome to come with, if that's what you want. Right guys?” I prompted.

“Mimikyu.” “Phantump!” Both of my pokemon gave their ringing endorsements and I would be a liar if I said that didn't warm my heart.

Litwick’s gaze turned to them, then to me, and finally the pokeball. She hesitated making the decision for an agonizing moment. Then she nodded, “Litwick.”

Just like that, I caught my third pokemon.