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[attr="class","bisc"]Another curve rounded and—wow--guess what? It was more rock. No breeze. No vegetation. No glowing Exit sign in a corner. The young man’s honeyed eyes fell for a moment. In his mind, they’d just get stuck wandering in circles for days. Then, there’d be a whole search party, and his hermana would cry on TV. And, once they found him, the reward would probably be a giant bill to the face. Though his leg felt off, the wound gave no pain.

Just when his hope reached its lowest, Biscotti saw it. That was light! Sure, it was purple and kind of creepy, but it meant they weren’t alone! An excited arm grabbed at the Incineroar in the dark. But, instead of her shoulder, he caught an already bristle-brush tail. A growl bubbled deep in the dark type’s throat as she glared at her pipsqueak BFF. “Sorry! Sorry!” Biscotti whispered harshly, jerking his hand back with an awkward smile. “Just look!”

When he ran ahead to meet the glow, the cat grabbed him by the scruff like an unruly kitten. “Incineroar.” She shook her head. Then, she settled him on the ground behind her as she pushed ahead to the other two travelers. It was soon revealed that it was not an illusion but a young lady and her ghost type. Biscotti, huffing a bit, caught up. He leaned heavily on his cat’s shoulder as he fought to catch his breath. “See…told you it wasn’t…a…monster.’ He hadn’t, but that whole bodyguard act had been big-time overboard.

“You guys wouldn’t know a way out of here, would you?” In the flickering of the Chandelure’s light, the trail of blood glittered in the darkness. All of the sudden, the tunnels around them echoed with the pound of hoofbeats. “Uhhh…” He looks at Elise as if expecting her to be wearing super claws. “Did you—”

A Rhyhorn rounds the corner with panicked eyes. Dust is kicked from its steps as it barrels mindlessly toward them. The bulky shape of a Pangoro is right on its heels and it is obviously very unhappy.

After dancing out of the little rhino’s way, Biscotti moves to step between it and the Pangoro. “Hey, uh, bud.” He swallows. “Can we chill out?” The bear growled deep in his chest, its arms bunching into fists. It roared. “I’m going to take that as a no.” As a fist rocketed toward Biscotti’s head, Jangle grabbed him and yanked him out of the way, dropping him unceremoniously to the floor.

A striped fist caught black as she yanked something from her trainer’s belt. This she pressed against the angry bear’s waist. He vanished in a burst of red light.

Notes

• Catching the Pangora

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[attr="class","bisc"]Even if it went against the bro code, Scotti was glad he’d stopped to (kind of) ask for directions. “I’m glad somebody does..” He tossed a glance at the winding paths behind him. “Me and Jangle have been wandering in circles.” A fact that’d be clearer if he’d bothered to look down. The blood from his wound had left a coppery trail behind them, way more clear than any crumb trail.

Biscotti wouldn’t come out and say he held his breath, but he wasn’t exactly looking forward to fighting an angry panda bear. Sure, they got by on trees, but those teeth and claws were totally made for something else. As the ball gave its final shake, he’d move to collect it. Gently rolling it in his palm, Scotti murmured an apology. “Sorry bout this, bud. I’ll figure out what to do with you later.” A click settled him into place.

As the Rhyhorn was also captured, he grinned. “Talk about a rush, huh? I thought I was about to get my clock cleaned.” Not sure what to do with a gorgeous woman like this, the college student just offered up an awkward chuckle. "Didn't expect to make a new friend today, huh?” With only one path forward, he moved toward the direction Elise had come from.

Labrador eyes widened as flames rippled off the iron hide of a Duraludon. It didn’t look happy. Its frame blocked almost the whole tunnel. Only through its waving arms could you see the occasional flash of fighting bandage.

A few stones were stuck in its hinges. It looked pretty similar to rhino hide. “So, uh, looks like that Pangoro had friends.” Not even giving her trainer a chance to play peacekeeper, Jangle inserted herself between him and the dragon-type.

Biscotti leaned around her to get a look at what lay beyond.

The Hitmonlee behind looked pretty cool. Those spring legs would make quick work of that gym mile. But the lack of a mouth made the kid shudder. How did that thing eat? Through its eyeballs?

“Do you want to try talking to them, or…?”

Notes

• Skipping

☉

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[attr="class","bisc"]Something about the laugh makes him run into a hundred Pangora fists. It was a really cute laugh, okay? It reminded him of a princess in a video game or something. Only she was staring at him in a spooky, dark cave and not waving at him from some balcony. It took him a second to realize that laugh was followed by words.


“Ride Pokemon?” He blinked, peering at the woman in the dim light. Imagining her perched on the back of a rampaging rhino was hard. It was like trying to meld two different Pokemon together. “Don’t all those ridges get in the way? Pretty sure they would jab you in the--you know--hoohah.” Though he’d never know what the pain of getting stabbed in the unmentionables by stone felt like, he knew it wouldn’t be comfortable. At the talk of gym racing, he blinked. “This place really is weird, huh?” Jangle—recognizing the shared accent between Scotti and this girl—snorted.


The brunette turned beet red at the expression of concern. “There’s nothing to worry about, right? He hits like a—(girl) drunken Mankey..” For some reason, he flexed his arm to show he was pristine—even though the bear had aimed for his face. The giant gash on his leg, irony in crimson motion, continued to drip, drip, drip upon the cavern’s floor.


Hiding behind Jangle—though he’d claim he wasn’t hiding—Bscotti watched as negotiations ensued. Hearing the way she spoke, he was willing to let this lady chuck a Pokeball at him. Once the dragon vanished, he grinned. “Good, you stepped in. That thing would have barbequed me.” Not that he’d have said anything mean. It just came out wrong sometimes. Like some weirdo was scrambling syllables.


As the Hitmonlee turned to leave, Biscotti and Jangle picked their way toward the cavern’s exit. They could now feel the occasional burst of fresh air—a spot of coolness in this place’s oppressive, sweltering opaqueness. A glimmer in a side tunnel caught his eyes, he turned to see a Camerupt—skinny and doleful—trying to make a meal of some lichen.


He’d always loved cows. Some kids wanted to ride horses, he’d always liked the idea of climbing on a Tauros or spotted Miltank and meandering around the yard. But they weren’t known for being super duper smart. “Hey, bud.” He smiled. “I can get you out of here and get you some real grass, what do you say?” It just blinked at him twice, a rock rolling from its mouth.


So much for charisma. Still, after a moment, it lowed at him. Taking that as a sign of agreement, he tossed a ball at it. “Wasn’t really expecting to make this many friends today.” Jangle just huffed. These guys would probably just be more trouble.


As the Incineroar turned, her eye widened. The path behind them was a mess of red and stone.

Notes

• Catching Camerupt

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[attr="class","bisc"]His cheeks showed pink in the dim light. Why in Arceus’s name had he used the word hoohah? It took everything in him not to apologize, knowing that’d just draw attention to the gaffe. Instead, he clung to her very embarrassing response like a life raft in a shipwreck.

“Does he? I’m guessing making those is a pain in the ass. I mean Rhyhorn’s are literally rock knives.” Biscotti’s voice cracked, a little too excited about saddles. “I can’t imagine making something that stands up to that.” Okay. Good job, Scotti. Smooth sailing past the vagina reference. He tucked an errant strand of hair behind his ear. The talk of gym trainers made him nod. “Maybe I’ll stop by one day. See you in action.” Hopefully, that didn’t make him sound like a stalker. He just liked battling too.

“A—a—a princess!?” Just like that, any composure he had shattered. With a stammer, he forced himself to bow. The gesture was a sloppy, sweeping thing that made him look like one of those drinking-bird contraptions. His Incineroar, meanwhile, didn’t seem all that impressed. Her only response came in the way of a smoke puff and a grumble. Biscotti took a minute to catch his breath. “I—uh—wouldn’t expect a princess to be, yanno, here.” This dim and dirty place wasn’t exactly the kind of place Cinderella would take a pumpkin carriage, right?

The Camerupt gave his mind time to pause its cycle of ‘omg a princess’ and ‘wtf am I doing with a princess?’ But her words of concern drew him up. “Eh, it’s no biggie.” Biscotti shrugged. His condition let him look like a total tough guy. “I didn’t even feel it.” Which wasn’t quite accurate. He felt the pressure and the impact, just not the alarm bells that typically came with it.

“Uh, let me look.” Biscotti dropped his eyes to his legs, noticing a tear in his jeans just below the knee. “Hey, Jangle, can you—” Before he finished asking, the Incineroar tore the pants in twain, the blood-covered portion dropping to the floor. “It looks like my leg.” He craned his head around, trying to make out the gash in the light.

Even in the dark, you could see the mess of old scars that surrounded it. There were a few surgical wounds as well, looking like the aftermath of staples.

Before Elise could take a look, however, the tunnel itself started to rumble. The light was snuffed out as something grey and bulky came down the tunnel. All of the sudden, the randomness of the place made sense. It’d been dug by a snake. And, judging by the configuration, it definitely lacked a permit.
Notes

• Skipping

☉