Post by thecurtain on Nov 1, 2011 18:54:50 GMT -5
The first time it happened was the single most terrifying experience of the girl’s life thus far. There had been a certain pride in her step when she’d entered the Violet City Pokemart with her Oddish in tow, 200 Pokedollars clutched tight in her fist like a safe. She’d won it off some kid with a Sandshrew, who’d looked at her scrawny little Oddish with great disdain. They’d sure shown them. But the girl didn’t wait around to see if the Sandshrew’s tail could be reattached or not; she finally had enough for a Pokeball, and she wasn’t going to wait around to have it stolen.
The Mart attendant took one look at her grubby face and her torn clothes and her runt of an Oddish, living freely outside her Pokeball, and demanded to see her trainer card.
“My…trainer…card…” she repeated slowly. As if attempting to help, the Oddish tilted her head to the side in confusion but just ended up looking ridiculous, bent at a ninety-degree angle at what would have been her waist, had she had one.
“Yeah.” The man was instantly suspicious, narrowing his eyes at her with her intended purchase still clutched in his hand. “You know, the one you got when you first started out on your journey? To prove you’re actually a trainer? With Pokemon you caught yourself?” He was eyeing up her Oddish, now, and she blinked back as innocently as she could.
The girl snapped on a pathetic little face while he was distracted. “You mean the trainer card I lost back somewhere between here and Cherrygrove?” she responded, suddenly sounding as wretched as she could muster.
“Lost…?”
She nodded sullenly. “I was nearly here when I noticed it missing. I--”
“Well, you should have gone to the police!” exclaimed the attendant, and the girl couldn’t tell if he had believed her story or not. He was grabbing at a phone receiver under the counter, though. She panicked.
“N-no! Wait!” He’d not expected her to actually heft herself over the counter and pin the receiver back down on its cradle.
“What are you--”
“I’m sure the police have better things to do than help me look for my trainer card,” she mumbled, lowering herself back down with a great show of embarrassment.
“It’s really important that you have that!” the attendant disagreed instantly.
“I know…I know!” She wrung her hands and bit her lip and somehow even managed to will her cheeks to pink in mortification and panic. “It’s just that Odds’s…Pokeball, it broke, and I wanted to make sure she was safe!” She paused, then held up the money again, daring to make her expression a little hopeful. “Please? Then I’ll go right back out and look for it.”
It was all she could do not to grin when the man hesitantly took her cash and handed over the Pokeball.
“That was way too stressful,” she commented to Odds as they went on their way; the Pokemon trilled loudly in agreement. “Next time I think we’ll just steal ‘em.”
---
The second time it happened she was prepared for it, but the problem was already getting old. The trainer she was battling seemed to accept her story about losing the card but nearly insisted on taking her and Odds to the police station himself. At least he quickly changed his mind when his Geodude needed to be rushed to a Pokemon Center.
It was when Odds herself needed help, after a particularly rough battle with a Beedrill, that the girl decided enough was enough. At least Nurse Joy waited until Odds was already being healed before asking for the card, but she did make more of a stink about it.
“What do you mean you lost it? How long ago?”
“I--I don’t know,” the girl stammered, making a mental note to just steal some Potions next time instead of bothering with this place. “I just wanted to get Odds some help, please…!”
“Well, she’ll be fine,” the nurse insisted, already heading to her phone. “But you could get in a lot of trouble, not having your trainer card on you!”
“Please, I don’t want to be a bother to anyone,” the girl insisted, following her along the counter. “I’ll go back and look for it just as soon as--”
“Excuse me?”
Equally startled, both Nurse Joy and the girl stopped and looked at the person who had spoken. The man who had come up behind the girl had a forgettable face, no distinctive features by which he could be described, and he dressed in an unremarkable gray T-shirt and jeans.
“I couldn’t help but overhear you lost your trainer card…?”
Struck mute, the girl nodded hesitantly.
“Because,” the man continued, fishing in the pocket of his jeans, “I found this. I wonder if it might be yours…?”
He handed a card-shaped object to her, low, by her navel. After quickly reading it, she slowly nodded, then remembered to look grateful. “Y-yes! It is! …Thank you so much!”
The man chuckled in his unremarkable voice. “Just glad it got to the right place.”
Nurse Joy took her hand off the phone receiver, relieved.
“Just be careful not to lose it again, alright?” He winked at the girl, nodded at Joy, and then made his way unobtrusively out of the Pokemon Center.
“You sure are lucky,” Nurse Joy commented, and with a shake of her head, she moved to engage another trainer who needed her help.
---
The card she had been given was not a trainer card at all, much less hers; it was a set of directions, and once she had Odds back, the girl followed them to the outskirts of Azalea Town, where she found a small house neatly hidden in a cluster of trees on the fringes of Ilex Forest. Without the instructions, she never even would have noticed it.
The man ushered her inside quickly when she knocked. The interior was small and sparse, with a computer and some machines hooked up to it in a corner and a table with a hot plate perched on top in another. The girl watched him with sharp eyes from the doorway.
“You make fake trainer cards,” she stated, levelly.
“And you are in the market for one,” he answered, just as calmly, but with a smile. “Unless I miss my guess.”
“I am.” The girl had her hand on Odds’s Pokeball, nevertheless. “I don’t have any money, though.”
“That’s fine,” the man responded airily, stepping towards her. “There’s another way you can pay me for it.”
---
The girl had been a terror all her life. She had cussed out her teachers and peers alike; she had gotten into fights; she had started fights; she had broken toys and broken bones and broken into locked rooms. She had stolen, lied, cheated, thrown tantrums, thrown other kids. She had made the lives of all around her absolutely miserable. But she had never killed anyone.
First time for everything, she reasoned to herself, climbing in through a window left open to the cool night air. She had to, if she ever wanted to be rid of this card nonsense once and for all. Still, she never expected her first time in Goldenrod City to involve breaking into someone’s home.
The man had given her a detailed description of the interior of the house. Committing it to memory, she had set off to complete her mission, and now with that map clear in her mind, she navigated the place carefully but with ease. Once inside the master bedroom, where the two sleeping forms lay restfully in bed, the girl released her Oddish, which hopped lightly onto the foot of the bed to release a cascade of Stun Spore. Just in case they woke up.
The man had assured her that only these two people would be in the house with her target, so once Odds’s task was complete, she returned the Pokemon to her ball and moved on through the house.
There were photographs dotting the surfaces on her path to the other bedroom, featuring a couple throughout many years, some of the older ones also depicting a young, unremarkable-looking boy. They were hard to miss, but the girl wasn’t paying attention to them. She had a job to do.
The door to the bedroom was ajar. As she slipped in, she dampened a handkerchief with the strong-smelling liquid from a bottle the man had given her and held it out away from her own nose and mouth.
Her target was lying in a small, round bed on the floor, fast asleep and snoring lightly. It was unfamiliar to her; though the man had called it a Poochyenna, the girl didn’t really care what it was. An agreement was an agreement, and it would bleed the same as anything else.
It stirred in its sleep, and quickly she put the handkerchief around its muzzle. Its breathing slowed, body lying even stiller than before. Leaving the cloth over its snout, she drew out the man’s other gift, a shining, silvery knife, and tried to do it in one cut. It wasn’t as sharp as she expected, though, and winced as a spurt of blood flew by her, nearly hitting her in the cheek. But she’d barely gotten through the thick fur, and her first cut was shallow. It took two more, and then a fourth for good measure, before she was sure she had severed its windpipe. The now useless handkerchief she lifted from the dead Pokemon’s nose and wiped her bloodied hand upon it. Returning both it and the knife to her bag, she slipped out into the night, just as easily as she had entered.
It should have bothered her, how simple the task had been. It didn’t.
---
Upon her return, she traded the man back his supplies for a perfectly forged trainer card, which had her picture and some vital information printed on it. She turned it over and squinted, reading down the text.
“That’s not my name,” the girl frowned, jabbing a finger at the first line.
“Is now,” the man grinned, ushering her back out of his little house. “Pleasure doin’ business with you, Ariana. Let’s never meet again, okay?”
Bemused, the girl Ariana continued on her way from Azalea Town. Accepting that she had just killed something took little time. Becoming accustomed to her new name was a longer process.
The Mart attendant took one look at her grubby face and her torn clothes and her runt of an Oddish, living freely outside her Pokeball, and demanded to see her trainer card.
“My…trainer…card…” she repeated slowly. As if attempting to help, the Oddish tilted her head to the side in confusion but just ended up looking ridiculous, bent at a ninety-degree angle at what would have been her waist, had she had one.
“Yeah.” The man was instantly suspicious, narrowing his eyes at her with her intended purchase still clutched in his hand. “You know, the one you got when you first started out on your journey? To prove you’re actually a trainer? With Pokemon you caught yourself?” He was eyeing up her Oddish, now, and she blinked back as innocently as she could.
The girl snapped on a pathetic little face while he was distracted. “You mean the trainer card I lost back somewhere between here and Cherrygrove?” she responded, suddenly sounding as wretched as she could muster.
“Lost…?”
She nodded sullenly. “I was nearly here when I noticed it missing. I--”
“Well, you should have gone to the police!” exclaimed the attendant, and the girl couldn’t tell if he had believed her story or not. He was grabbing at a phone receiver under the counter, though. She panicked.
“N-no! Wait!” He’d not expected her to actually heft herself over the counter and pin the receiver back down on its cradle.
“What are you--”
“I’m sure the police have better things to do than help me look for my trainer card,” she mumbled, lowering herself back down with a great show of embarrassment.
“It’s really important that you have that!” the attendant disagreed instantly.
“I know…I know!” She wrung her hands and bit her lip and somehow even managed to will her cheeks to pink in mortification and panic. “It’s just that Odds’s…Pokeball, it broke, and I wanted to make sure she was safe!” She paused, then held up the money again, daring to make her expression a little hopeful. “Please? Then I’ll go right back out and look for it.”
It was all she could do not to grin when the man hesitantly took her cash and handed over the Pokeball.
“That was way too stressful,” she commented to Odds as they went on their way; the Pokemon trilled loudly in agreement. “Next time I think we’ll just steal ‘em.”
---
The second time it happened she was prepared for it, but the problem was already getting old. The trainer she was battling seemed to accept her story about losing the card but nearly insisted on taking her and Odds to the police station himself. At least he quickly changed his mind when his Geodude needed to be rushed to a Pokemon Center.
It was when Odds herself needed help, after a particularly rough battle with a Beedrill, that the girl decided enough was enough. At least Nurse Joy waited until Odds was already being healed before asking for the card, but she did make more of a stink about it.
“What do you mean you lost it? How long ago?”
“I--I don’t know,” the girl stammered, making a mental note to just steal some Potions next time instead of bothering with this place. “I just wanted to get Odds some help, please…!”
“Well, she’ll be fine,” the nurse insisted, already heading to her phone. “But you could get in a lot of trouble, not having your trainer card on you!”
“Please, I don’t want to be a bother to anyone,” the girl insisted, following her along the counter. “I’ll go back and look for it just as soon as--”
“Excuse me?”
Equally startled, both Nurse Joy and the girl stopped and looked at the person who had spoken. The man who had come up behind the girl had a forgettable face, no distinctive features by which he could be described, and he dressed in an unremarkable gray T-shirt and jeans.
“I couldn’t help but overhear you lost your trainer card…?”
Struck mute, the girl nodded hesitantly.
“Because,” the man continued, fishing in the pocket of his jeans, “I found this. I wonder if it might be yours…?”
He handed a card-shaped object to her, low, by her navel. After quickly reading it, she slowly nodded, then remembered to look grateful. “Y-yes! It is! …Thank you so much!”
The man chuckled in his unremarkable voice. “Just glad it got to the right place.”
Nurse Joy took her hand off the phone receiver, relieved.
“Just be careful not to lose it again, alright?” He winked at the girl, nodded at Joy, and then made his way unobtrusively out of the Pokemon Center.
“You sure are lucky,” Nurse Joy commented, and with a shake of her head, she moved to engage another trainer who needed her help.
---
The card she had been given was not a trainer card at all, much less hers; it was a set of directions, and once she had Odds back, the girl followed them to the outskirts of Azalea Town, where she found a small house neatly hidden in a cluster of trees on the fringes of Ilex Forest. Without the instructions, she never even would have noticed it.
The man ushered her inside quickly when she knocked. The interior was small and sparse, with a computer and some machines hooked up to it in a corner and a table with a hot plate perched on top in another. The girl watched him with sharp eyes from the doorway.
“You make fake trainer cards,” she stated, levelly.
“And you are in the market for one,” he answered, just as calmly, but with a smile. “Unless I miss my guess.”
“I am.” The girl had her hand on Odds’s Pokeball, nevertheless. “I don’t have any money, though.”
“That’s fine,” the man responded airily, stepping towards her. “There’s another way you can pay me for it.”
---
The girl had been a terror all her life. She had cussed out her teachers and peers alike; she had gotten into fights; she had started fights; she had broken toys and broken bones and broken into locked rooms. She had stolen, lied, cheated, thrown tantrums, thrown other kids. She had made the lives of all around her absolutely miserable. But she had never killed anyone.
First time for everything, she reasoned to herself, climbing in through a window left open to the cool night air. She had to, if she ever wanted to be rid of this card nonsense once and for all. Still, she never expected her first time in Goldenrod City to involve breaking into someone’s home.
The man had given her a detailed description of the interior of the house. Committing it to memory, she had set off to complete her mission, and now with that map clear in her mind, she navigated the place carefully but with ease. Once inside the master bedroom, where the two sleeping forms lay restfully in bed, the girl released her Oddish, which hopped lightly onto the foot of the bed to release a cascade of Stun Spore. Just in case they woke up.
The man had assured her that only these two people would be in the house with her target, so once Odds’s task was complete, she returned the Pokemon to her ball and moved on through the house.
There were photographs dotting the surfaces on her path to the other bedroom, featuring a couple throughout many years, some of the older ones also depicting a young, unremarkable-looking boy. They were hard to miss, but the girl wasn’t paying attention to them. She had a job to do.
The door to the bedroom was ajar. As she slipped in, she dampened a handkerchief with the strong-smelling liquid from a bottle the man had given her and held it out away from her own nose and mouth.
Her target was lying in a small, round bed on the floor, fast asleep and snoring lightly. It was unfamiliar to her; though the man had called it a Poochyenna, the girl didn’t really care what it was. An agreement was an agreement, and it would bleed the same as anything else.
It stirred in its sleep, and quickly she put the handkerchief around its muzzle. Its breathing slowed, body lying even stiller than before. Leaving the cloth over its snout, she drew out the man’s other gift, a shining, silvery knife, and tried to do it in one cut. It wasn’t as sharp as she expected, though, and winced as a spurt of blood flew by her, nearly hitting her in the cheek. But she’d barely gotten through the thick fur, and her first cut was shallow. It took two more, and then a fourth for good measure, before she was sure she had severed its windpipe. The now useless handkerchief she lifted from the dead Pokemon’s nose and wiped her bloodied hand upon it. Returning both it and the knife to her bag, she slipped out into the night, just as easily as she had entered.
It should have bothered her, how simple the task had been. It didn’t.
---
Upon her return, she traded the man back his supplies for a perfectly forged trainer card, which had her picture and some vital information printed on it. She turned it over and squinted, reading down the text.
“That’s not my name,” the girl frowned, jabbing a finger at the first line.
“Is now,” the man grinned, ushering her back out of his little house. “Pleasure doin’ business with you, Ariana. Let’s never meet again, okay?”
Bemused, the girl Ariana continued on her way from Azalea Town. Accepting that she had just killed something took little time. Becoming accustomed to her new name was a longer process.
