Spoon: 3.4 Soup (Patreon)

Soup 3.4

Aaron Fulan

Petalburg Woods, Hoenn Region

For once in a long while, I was right and testing Murphy didn’t in fact get me a swift kick to the nads. We weren’t even fifteen minutes away from the tied up mightyena pack when a kirlia dove down from the trees in front of us. Female, if the slight curvature of her ruby crests was any indication. I felt unreasonably proud for being able to distinguish a kirlia’s gender.

‘That is indeed another female member of my species. Truly, my lord’s perceptiveness is peerless under the heavens,’ Artoria drawled, tone drier than a krookodile’s scales.

‘And it only took me thirteen years of growing up surrounded by psychics,’ I chirped back happily. My kirlia rolled her eyes but transmitted the appropriate greetings towards the newcomer.

The newcomer, the male ralts’ older sibling from what I could understand, looked practically identical to Artoria, which was a good reason for me to never acquire a second pokemon of the same species, but for a few minor differences.

Artoria’s skin was a darker shade of eggshell white, if only because she got a lot more sun than anyone living beneath the forest canopy did. I noticed that Artoria was also an inch or so taller. It wasn’t much, but considering neither of them had many inches to spare, it was noticeable.

I then felt Artoria link all four of us and I felt some pity for Jeanne. It couldn’t be fun being excluded from the conversation all the time. I crouched and leaned back against a tree, pulling my not-a-lamb-anymore pokemon into my lap. I pulled out her favorite brush and proceeded to pamper her a bit while we talked.

‘We are not short, my lord,’ Artoria said patiently, having caught the tail end of my thoughts. ‘It is you humans who are unreasonably tall.’

‘Is… Is your human mocking us?’ the second kirlia questioned. She sounded unsure of whether to be indignant or amused.

‘Me?’ I gasped in mock offense. ‘Never. I assure you, I have nothing but the utmost respect for your species. Why, growing up, it was Alice who washed my mouth out with soap every time I said a naughty word. I only tried to shave her bald sixteen times in retaliation before I gave up.’

‘I… What? What does that have to do with anything? And who’s Alice?’

‘My mother’s gardevoir of course! When Artoria and I finally triumph over our parents, I will finally succeed in my lifelong mission to shave Alice bald.’

‘Why? Why are you so fixated on… on shaving a gardevoir…?’

‘For science! And to assert my dominance... But mostly science!’

Artoria practically bulldozed herself into the conversation. She was blazing in a cocktail of auras. Humiliation. Exasperation. Indignation. Fondness. Humor. But most of all, embarrassment.

And it was delicious. Just seeing it made me wonder if I’d spontaneously gained her ability to nourish myself from emotions.

‘You have not,’ Artoria growled in our minds. ‘Ignore him, kirlia. My lord insists on being as ridiculous as possible to get a rise out of people. And we will not be shaving anyone, especially not my mother.’

‘Fine, fine, spoilsport. So, kirlia, is the rest of your coven nearby?’

‘Are all humans as strange as you?’ She asked, utter bewilderment filling our connection. Then she visibly shook her head to clear it of stray thoughts. ‘No, not important. Yes. The matriarch was able to divine my brother’s location when you separated from the mightyena chasing you.’

‘Fair enough. Dark type interference. Heard that before. Do you need help getting your little brother home safe?’

‘No, that’s fine. I have to ask however… The matriarch could not sense you. Why? You are clearly familiar with psychics. Have you discovered some way to hide yourself much like a dark type?’

I blinked in confusion before cutting the connection to think things through. Lesson one of dealing with telepaths: Compartmentalize. It was a lesson I hadn’t needed to apply until we’d met the ralts because Artoria and I shared everything.

I wasn’t hiding. In fact, I had no idea how to do something like that. Mom probably had a trick or two to disrupt scrying attempts against her, but I sure as hell didn’t. Then it hit me: the gardevoirite. Her matriarch was sensing the mega stone, and like all relics, it told all diviners to fuck off.

I didn’t think it’d hide me as its current wielder, even if in the loosest of terms, but I was grateful for it. Anti-scrying protections were quite rare outside of specific dark type specialists or extremely well-trained psychics and me just stumbling on one was, frankly, ridiculously lucky.

On the other hand, it was a good reminder that psychics could scry people near me even if I myself was immune now. I’d have to keep that in mind going forward.

Also,  it meant mom definitely knew I’d gotten my hands on another relic.

‘Oh, well,’ I thought, ‘let that be an issue for later. I’ll give mom a call once I get to Oldale…’ I threaded myself back into the telepathic conversation. My work was far cruder than anything Artoria or the second kirlia could manage, but that I could forge the connection voluntarily was itself progress. ‘Sorry, didn’t think anyone would notice that. I grew up in a psychic gym.’

‘Mossdeep? Even the Petalburg covens know of that place across the sea,’ the kirlia said. ‘At any rate, thank you for rescuing my brother.’

‘It was the right thing to do,’ Artoria said solemnly. ‘As a knight, it is my sworn duty to protect the weak.’

‘A knight…?’

‘Indeed! I have sworn to wield only this sword until the day I can best my father in a duel of blades. I hone my skills daily in anticipation for that day. And in doing so, I shall become a shield to protect the defenseless and a sword to judge the wicked! That is the path of knighthood!’ Artoria declared grandly. She’d jumped onto a nearby rock and was brandishing her spoon like Lady Liberty holding her torch up high.

‘You… You know you cannot become a gallade, right…?’ the other kirlia said, trying to crush her dreams as gently as possible.

‘The virtues of chivalry are not bound by gender! I shall rise above my limitations and become the greatest knight to ever live!’

‘Right…’ She grabbed the starstruck ralts by the scruff of his robe. ‘We’re going to go now… Thanks for your help and all…’

Then, with a flash of blue light, they were gone.

Artoria looked at me strangely as she stepped off her soapbox. ‘Was it something I said?’

I shook my head and did my best to stifle my laughter. Leave it to Artoria to chuuni her way through our first interaction with a wild kirlia. ‘Nope. You’re golden, Artoria. I thought you were quite eloquent.’

‘Perhaps knighthood is a difficult concept to understand for someone who lives in the woods…’

‘Did… Did you just call them bumpkins?’

‘I did no such thing, my lord. I am merely pointing out that without the stellar example of chivalry that is my father, she lacks the appropriate frame of reference to appreciate the value of the knightly virtues.’

I thought about her father, Quinn, mom’s gallade. I thought about the overly formal pokemon who acted as mom’s butler and bodyguard, how he watched every period drama he could get his hands on and how he even took up medieval poetry as a hobby.

Truly, the leppa did not fall far from the tree with these two…

‘You are thinking something unflattering about us,’ Artoria pouted adorably.

‘No,’ I defended myself. ‘I was just thinking that you and Quinn are a lot alike, that’s all.’

‘Truly? Do you mean it?’

‘I wouldn’t lie to you, Artoria.’

‘You would. You told me back in Mauville that horseradish was just a lum berry mash,’ she said accusingly.

‘One time! And I got you ice cream to make up for the prank.’

‘The point stands. You would lie to me if it amused you.’

‘Only for harmless things.’

‘My mouth begs to differ, my lord. There was nothing harmless about your prank. I did not know sinuses could burn like that.’

‘Fine, fine. You win. I’m an awful lord who pranks his adorable knight. Happy?’

‘No! Despite your eccentricities, you are a fantastic liege. I will serve no other,’ Artoria vowed.

Reaching down, I grave her crests a good pat. I stood and dusted myself off, nudging Jeanne to her feet. She awoke from her dozing and grazing with a bit of static that tingled my fingers. I pulled out my map and reoriented ourselves before setting off. “You two did well today, but let’s get moving.”

X

After that unexpected but friendly encounter with a coven, we made good headway southward. We had one more encounter with a mightyena, but he was not part of the pack we’d seen harassing Artoria’s not-so-secret admirer. Beyond that, Artoria and I were able to navigate the forest safely by psychically scanning for hostile intentions, something I was growing very good at through constant training and exposure. I was starting to find that one of the best perks of being a psychic was that I could pick and choose the confrontations I wanted.

For example, in order to teach Artoria and Jeanne how to cope with flying opponents, we intentionally made a detour into a small flock of spearow. Artoria got to master Teleport against multiple aerial opponents. Jeanne got target practice with Shock Wave and Electro Ball. I got to dump the rest of my oran berry stash to soothe the flock’s ruffled feathers.

Over the next few days, they’d fully mastered the moves they had and I saw fit to change their routine.

In Artoria’s case, I deemed it right to finally start her on her fairy type mastery. I’d been pushing it off long enough, although truth be told, I’d have pushed it even further back in favor of being able to teleport with living things.

After some deliberation, I decided against advanced teleportation training as I didn’t feel comfortable with the risks on my own. Some pokemon, the ralts line included, had an easier time learning it than others, but that didn’t mean the process was simple. Easier, not easy. This was the kind of training mom provided for League-sponsored psychics in exchange for shitloads of cash after all. Even with manuals from the Summers family library, I didn’t want to mess with it until I was out of the forest and could call home again.

Thus, fairy type mastery, and wasn’t that a can of worms too.

Artoria was a very straightforward person. She just didn’t cope well with the more metaphysical aspects of her training, as had been proven with her still limited mastery of Shadow Sneak. The only reason I felt comfortable with Artoria attempting to channel fae aura was because she had a teacher of sorts: the mega stone.

The mega stone subtly radiated both psychic and fae aura so I had Artoria meditate with it. Her first task was to parse the two and dismiss the psychic half. She was effectively trying to synchronize her own aura with the fairy half to get a feel for the sensation. She wasn’t all that thrilled with the nebulous nature of the exercise at first, but when I gave her a mental image of her swinging a fairy-aligned sword to slay salamence, she got more motivated.

When in doubt, feed the chuuni. It was practically my training philosophy at this point.

Jeanne wasn’t idle either. If anything, she improved faster than Artoria because where Artoria’s teacher was a literal rock, Jeanne’s teacher was Artoria herself.

With her mastery of Electro Ball, I felt that it was finally time for her to branch out to learn a move that was normally only available through TM: Agility. Whenever Artoria became frustrated with “whispering to the moon” as she called it, I had her do some physical conditioning as she explained the nuances of harnessing psychic energy for physical reinforcement to Jeanne.

She was still a far cry from rivaling Artoria’s Mana Burst, but Jeanne got the hang of psychic aura fairly quickly and could now zip around fast enough to confuse the fuck out of passing pokemon. I wouldn’t say it was combat-ready, but she was getting there quickly, which in turn meant Electro Ball would become far deadlier.

I practiced my own psychic reinforcement as my bokken sang through the air with thoughts of a free-flying mega ampharos floating through my mind. As far as I was concerned, Agility and Magnet Rise were the keys to making Jeanne a true lightning dragon. Besides the ampharosite in New Mauville of course.

X

We were stopped for lunch. After multiple days of eating chalky rations that clung to the throat, I felt the need to indulge a little. As far as either Atoria or I could tell, we were only two days from Oldale anyway, so using up some of our abundant supplies didn’t feel like a self-induced tragedy waiting to happen.

I decided to settle for something a friend showed me in my previous life. I still remembered Walter fondly as a naturalist and avid hunter. He and I met over a HEMA conference, where I ended up giving him some pointers on the longsword and he showed me how to use a hunting bow to actually hit something more than fifteen feet away from me. After that, he and his family were kind enough to invite me out camping a few times. Aside from the Mossdeep Trainer School, he was one of the main sources of my campground cooking knowledge.

One of his favorites, which quickly became mine as well, was a simple blend of bell peppers, onions, mushrooms, and spicy sausages in a foil packet, tossed directly into the fire pit. Or in my case, placed right next to the heat so everything could steam through. The juices from the vegetables would blend with the oils from the sausage to flavor everything uniformly. Walter swore it was Brazilian, though fuck if I knew.

I didn’t have the brand of spicy sausage I wanted, but I’d settled on a beef and pork variant from Olivine. It had been flavored with tamato berries apparently. Those spiky, crimson not-tomatoes were spicy instead of acidic and they had a heated floral note that reminded me a bit of habaneros.

I quickly mixed up some garlic butter and lathered it onto a thick slice of bread before leaving that to toast in a pan. ‘Artoria, you want what I’m making or you want pokechow?’

She gave me a gimlet side-eye, the mega stone hovering a few inches off her palms. ‘Will it be spicy?’

‘No? Spicy sausages, but that’ll be diluted by the onions and peppers. And they’re not that spicy to begin with, just a bit of kick.’

‘Then yes, please.’

‘Cool.’ I diced up some cheri berries in a bed of arugula, alfalfa, and kale for Jeanne before sprinkling the salad mix with protein and iron supplements. From what the Verdanturf nurse told me, herbivores like Jeanne could struggle to get these nutrients, especially when on the move. She’d been kind enough to recommend a brand and told me to mix a dose with her food every few days.

“Flaaf?” Jeanne bleated as she ran by, her sixth lap around the grove we’d set up in. Seeing her food was finished, she skidded to a stop near me and raised her paws towards the sun with a cheer. “Flaaffy!”

“Yeah, lunch is ready, Jeanne. Great work out there,” I told her, sliding her the bowl. I picked out my foil packet and garlic bread before sawing off a neat little slice for Artoria. She was almost twice the size she was as a ralts, but even then, slightly north of two feet wasn’t exactly towering.

We gathered around to tuck into lunch, Artoria having gingerly returned the mega stone into my bag, when we were interrupted by loud squeals and howls. They sounded wholly foreign to my ears, not quite pokespeach, but not the mindless roaring of wild animals either. Artoria groaned but brandished her spoon for war.

“Do you smell anything, Jeanne?”

“Flaaffy,” she nodded. She swayed her tail and began to build sparks in the bulb.

‘Mankey, my lord,’ Artoria said. She focused for a moment. ‘A troupe of fourteen. No primeape.’

I nodded and stretched my own senses, confirming what she’d told me. Out of all the pokemon I’d seen in the forest, they were some of the least difficult to read, and paradoxically, the most difficult because of it. They were angry. The red of rage floated around their bodies like a bloody haze even when they were resting or eating, making discerning any other emotion difficult.

A handful of seconds later, the fourteen mankey entered the grove. Each ranged between a foot to two feet tall. They would have been adorable if their lips weren’t pulled back to bear their incisors in a unanimous snarl.

“Man! Mankey! Man-key!” the biggest of them shouted at us. He gestured to the foil packet I made so his intention was obvious.

I looked around. Fourteen versus three. It was hardly fair and unlike with the mightyena pack, we didn’t get to initiate. Still, the lack of a primeape leader told me that this was likely the exiles of some bigger troupe somewhere. That they were willing to pick a fight with a human was also telling.

Pokemon, even wild ones, weren’t stupid. As a rule of thumb, they didn’t pick fights with trainers. Not only could a dead trainer lead to increased ranger patrols and the total eradication of their group, humans were seen as highly risky targets in the immediate as well. No one knew how many pokemon a human could be carrying after all, or which species. A human could turn out to be a cornucopia of dimensionally stored food, or a death sentence. That they were willing to be upfront about robbing me meant they were desperate or had been following me for days.

Artoria and I would have noticed if we were being followed, so that left desperation.

‘What should we do, my lord?’ Artoria asked, her eyes never leaving the troupe.

I remembered the ursaring and teddiursa. They taught me that no matter how rabid they seemed, pokemon weren’t wild animals. It took an incredible stroke of fortune and a desperate gamble on the teddirusa’s part, but the mother bear could be reasoned with. I didn’t know how that’d translate to a perpetually angry troupe of monkeys, but… but if negotiation was at all a possibility, then I had to make the effort, right?

‘We talk to them,’ I decided. I stood and walked over to my bag before rummaging through the dimensional storage. I picked out what was left of my trail mix. I’d overpacked so I had enough for almost a week more, which considering our relative size would mean the entire troupe could eat well. I tore open three bags and poured the contents into the largest pot I had before laying it on the ground.

That doing so took me within arm’s reach of my bokken was a convenient bonus. We had plenty; I’d be willing to share, but I wasn’t willing to be stupid.

“Help yourselves,” I told them, gesturing to the pot. “You want food, right? That should keep you all going for a day or two.”

“Mankey?” the leader growled. “Man. Man-mankey.”

I glanced at Artoria who dutifully translated with a disapproving frown. ‘He is now demanding the rest in your bag, my lord.’

“No,” I refused them, shaking my head to get the point across. “Those are emergency supplies in case we can’t leave the forest in two days for whatever reason.”

“Mankey! Man!” The lead mankey stamped his foot, causing the others to take up the same hooting chant. I didn’t need her to translate; the deepening crimson of their aura was more than enough of a clue.

Fighting types or not, they were on average a foot and a half tall. I outmassed any of them by a lot, easily tenfold if not greater. I wasn’t terribly worried about dealing with one of them, but more than one could be trouble. Still, I shrugged with faux nonchalance; I knew that anything less than supreme confidence would be dangerous. “Tough. Our food, our rules. Take what’s offered or leave.”

Their cries were like a building crescendo. Their aura became redder and more violent with each cry, like a pot of water about to boil over. Until finally, the lead mankey clawed the air and screeched. “Mankey!”

I focused on giving Jeanne directions. Artoria already knew what I needed of her, the perks of a telepath so attuned to my own senses. “Flash. Spore. Terrain. Thunder Shock. Wide spread,” I barked as I skipped back with my backpack, bokken in hand. The last thing I needed was for t one of them to make off with my bag, and the mega stone stored inside.

“Flaaffy!” Jeanne cried as the electricity she’d been building in her tail loosed itself as a blinding beacon of light. She couldn’t direct it like a searchlight, but Artoria and I knew it was coming and readily turned our heads.

The mankey weren’t so lucky. Their screeching battle cries turned into wails of surprise and pain as they clawed at their own eyes. I immediately slung my bag over my shoulder and readied my bokken.

Artoria had already vanished, striking down the leader with a well-placed Mana Edge. She then whirled her spoon around her in a wide sweep, scattering the troupe.

A rain of Cotton Spores added to the confusion. Then, as Jeanne built up charge in her tail and was about to slam it down to produce the Electric Terrain, a mankey in the far back screeched something.

A pale, white orb of light shot out from its swiping paw, rocketing towards her. When it struck, instead of damaging her, Jeanne clapped her paws and raised them towards the sun. “Flaaffy!” she cried, releasing yet another volley of spores that I hadn’t ordered.

“Fuck Encore,” I swore. I backstepped to be closer to my pokemon. Encore was a form of minor hypnosis and emotional manipulation, plain and simple. It greatly heightened the victim’s sense of praise and validation in an attempt to get them to use their previous move again. Unlike in the games, it wasn’t always effective, pokemon expected a confrontational mentality after all and were typically resistant to the praise of the enemy, but that could change depending on the individual.

In Jeanne’s case, Encore was a move she was particularly susceptible to. Her personality revolved around external validation. She was someone who wanted to be a star and had joined me for that explicit purpose.

I groaned as those thoughts raced through my mind. I’d have to play along with her altered mentality for now. “Run, Jeanne! Show them how effective your spores are. Shine!”

“Flaaffy!” she cheered as she skipped backwards. She was in no way faster than the mankey, but the spores made up for the difference.

I smiled grimly as four broke off to chase her. It sucked to use my artillery as bait, but hopefully she’d break out of the Encore in short order.

‘Nine left to go,’ I thought.

I’d hoped that removing the biggest one would demoralize them, but that was unfortunately not what happened. If anything, it seemed to motivate them further, driving the troupe into an incandescent rage. With a berserk screech, eight of the nine rushed her.

I wondered if that was intentional. A few had gone to take on the Flaaffy, but the majority were here. It wasn’t unreasonable to think they understood basic type matchups, especially considering the presence of multiple ralts covens in the area, but mankey weren’t typically the sort to think too deeply.

I saw a second and third mankey go down to Artoria’s spoon. Being both fighting types and out-skilled by Artoria, a single Mana Edge was enough to take them out of the fight. That said, one of the remaining six chasing her shouted something and the rest regrouped before moving in a rough circle, watching each other’s backs. Mana Burst was an incredible mobility option, but only in straight lines. They’d caught on to that quickly and adjusted accordingly, leaving only Teleport to watch for.

That was as much as I got to see because the final mankey that had been hanging back faded back into the grove. That confused me for a moment, mankey were not known for cowardice. Quite the opposite in fact. If anything, bullheaded stupidity fueled by apoplectic rage was more their speed. Then I caught a flash of crimson aura between the branches.

‘He’s flanking,’ I realized, and not a second too soon.

I swiveled in place and brought my bokken in a parrying guard, catching the mankey’s Scratch attack on the back of my wooden sword.

“Man?” it exclaimed in surprise.

I twisted and tossed it away, but the mankey flipped several times in midair before landing on its feet in a casual crouch.

Our eyes met and I saw its emotional aura flare into a kaleidoscope of colors. Red, of course, was there. Orange for greed, too. But I also saw streaks of blue, peace, and white, resolve, now that I was looking closer.

This was it. This was the one. It understood more than brute strength and swarm tactics. It had its eye on the prize, lunging for my bag when every other member of its troupe got distracted in the heat of battle. It used Encore to distract my flaaffy and used its own troupe members to distract Artoria while it went for a seemingly vulnerable trainer.

This one understood more than rage, and that was when I knew: I found my third member.

“I want you,” I said plainly.

“Man?”

“I’m going to catch you.”

It was a declaration of intent, a promise. Its eyes narrowed as the pig monkey scoffed derisively. But there was contemplation too. And suddenly, this was no longer about the food.

It took a general approximation of a combat stance, with arms spread for Scratch and legs curled to jump. It was sloppy as hell, but still more technique than any of its troupe members had shown. “Man-key. Ma, mankey,” he said simply.

I didn’t speak pokemon, but I understood. It was taking the measure of me now. No backup. No tricks. A duel. For food. For a team member. To prove my worth.

One day, I wanted to be so good at reinforcement that I could tangle with a fully evolved fighting type like Bruno of the Indigo Elite Four and not be found lacking. This… This wasn’t that. I outmassed the mankey a dozenfold. I had decades of training to fall back on. Every advantage was mine, but… but this was a first step.

Grinning, I nodded and brandished my sword. Perhaps it was something about fighting spirit. Perhaps the desperation of circumstance nudged me in just the right way, but it clicked. I felt psychic power fill my muscles more readily than any other time before, reinforcing them to match a fighting type pokemon, however small.

“Come.”

Author’s Note

This is my ruling concerning Paldea and any future generations if this fic lasts that long. Aaron was reborn before Scarlet and Violet. However, the world is a lot more flushed out than in the games, so it’s not as though Paldea suddenly magically appeared one day. It’s a known quantity and in the same camp as Galar in that the region tends to be fairly reclusive though not outright isolationist.

This means that the new pokemon are uncommon knowledge in Hoenn, as in a college student can go look up the biodiversity of foreign ecosystems if he felt so inclined. However, it means that the plot of S/V is alien to Aaron, as is the existence of the paradox pokemon.

So Aaron knows what an annihilape is, just as anyone who’s ever trained one does. They’re extremely rare in the wild, but they do exist in Kanto as there wouldn’t be anything preventing a primeape’s evolution.