[attr="class","samjermain"]Looking back on it, Harper wasn’t sure how she’d carried Twiggy so far. Sure, she was muscular for a waif, but the cat wasn’t that much shorter than her. She’d chalk it up to adrenaline. Just like all those videos of mommas lifting cars off pinned kids.

Hopefully, he doesn’t ignore me. When you were a flea on society’s underbelly, people often pretended you weren’t there. They averted their eyes from your dirty feet and became engrossed in stilted, awkward conversations. It made picking pockets easy but getting help super-duper hard. But it was kind of hard to walk past someone clawing at your shoulder.

Harper pulled her hand away from the dark-haired boy. Her breath escaped in shallow little puffs. Without a destination to keep her going, the thief became acutely aware of the ball of fluff and plant matter on her back. He’s got a bunch? Why? It seemed like a weird thing to collect. It wasn’t like they were pretty or edible. And only weirdoes set out to get poisoned.

The thief adjusted the Floragato on her back. Calloused fingers pinned his legs more closely to her side. As the bottle came into view, Harper’s eyes filled with relief. But some part of her urged her to just grab the bag. It’d be so easy. She’d never have to worry about getting poisoned again.

But that’d mean leaving Twiggy behind. And it wasn’t very grateful. Even thieves had stuff that was off-limits.

As the Orbeetle wrinkled its face, Harper frowned at it. Her own nose bunched as she allowed herself a petulant moment—a pink tongue poking out past her lips. That thing looked dumb as hell anyway.

A few yards. A few inches. "C'mon! C'mon! Hurry!" She just wanted to snatch the thing out of the sky with all the care of a frog’s tongue. But she didn’t want to seem desperate.

Staring at the bottle for a minute—as if it might fall as she looked away—the girl dropped to her knees. As gingerly as possible, she laid the cat on the ground. With trembling fingers—the ones on the other hand crossed—she pushed the plunger. A cool, yellow mist wafted over the cat. After a moment of staring at him, the girl set up.

“Some bullies were too chicken to pick on somebody their own size—” She huffed irritably. Her cheeks turned red with rage. “--so they picked on Twiggy instead.” She craned over her cat.

“How long’s this gonna take?” Even though it’d been no more than half a minute, each heartbeat felt like an eternity.

[attr="class","samjermain"]Harper turned to face Selena with her typical smile. “Raid the trash!” Harper declared proudly—like a child showing off their first scout page. “It’s the best place in town.” Her voice dropped into a conspiratorial whisper. “That’s what the critics say anyway—I just like the truffle fries.” She’d tried plenty of fancy food in her day. But it wasn’t that good.

The Sprigatito took a moment to shake off his inner paralysis. With that blade, a whisker’s width away, the little cat lived all nine lives at once. Only after he recovered did he return to his trainer, weaving in and out of her bony legs. She squeezed them a little tighter, cuddling him without being too distracted. This lady was cool.

At the compliment, the pickpocket grinned. She wasn’t used to praise. Most adults either side-eyed her or yelled at her. Those that didn’t always want her to do something. And, even when she did, they were never happy about it. Failed missions got scratches from Daddy while successful ones merely earned a nod and more work. So, to say Harper was ecstatic was an understatement. “Thanks! Always nice to show bullies who’s boss!”

As the Metagross crushes a trash can beneath its feet, a Raichu scampers out of the behemoth’s way. Terrified of the metal monstrosity, the thief moves to hide behind Selena. Trying its best not to become toe jam, the Raichu does the same. It comes to a stop right behind the Sprigatito, its labrador eyes staring fearfully at the steel spider.

As the beast vanishes in a burst of light, Harper turns to face it. Her eyes widen. “OMG! You’re like the cutest!” She scoops it up—or tries to, crushing it against her breastbone. Confused by the shrieking, the electric type hangs there limply. But the shard of a french fry she gives it makes it a lot less ambivalent.

NOTES
Catching Raichu

[attr="class","samjermain"]Last night, she stepped foot in the wrong alley, and the punks that called it home were quick to prove that fact. They catcalled her. One of them went so far as to grab her jacket. Then, of course, came the accusations. “Ya gonna regret coming round here, sticky fingers. Maybe we’ll cut em off for ya—stop that temptation, eh?” And, while she totally had jacked one of the loser’s wallets, it wasn’t worth beating the snot out of her for. That guy didn't even have a credit card!

After dodging most of their sloppy punches—the benefit of being as slippery as an eel—the preteen found herself facing down a Pokemon mob.Time to get out of here! As a Tentacool swiped at her head, her cowardly Floragato dropped into the fray. A quick leech seed sapped at the thing’s health. But, when the energy came back, it felt like he’d stuck his paw in a jar of nettles.

He didn’t get much time to think about it though. His trainer’s hand was in his one second and tugging him up the fire escape the next. Using their size to their advantage, they took refuge between a dumpster and a wall. The smell from the trash was enough to keep the leader’s Houndour from sniffing them out. A few minutes later, Harper surged to her feet with a grin. “Hah!” She moved to give the cat a high-five. “Those idiots are gonna be looking all night. Thanks for—” Her eyes widened as the cat’s eyelids fluttered before he flumped to the ground.

“Twiggy!? Hey!” Harper shook him, her voice full of panic. Tears threatened as she rolled him onto his back. On the backside of his paw, she could see nasty purple veins trailing upward. “That thing must have—! Shit!" His breathing turned shallow as his body fought the poison. “Hang on!” Leaving her jacket with him—a threadbare blanket against whatever racked his body—Harper made her way to main street.


Finding a kid, she moved to grab his shoulders. “Hey! I need a—I think Twiggy needs an antidote!” She dug into her pocket and pulled out what cash she had. “I’ll pay for it! Here!” She shoved the wad at the dark-haired kid’s chest.

Banned from every store in spitting distance, it seemed easy pickings had finally came back to bite her.

[attr="class","samjerpoke"]

[attr="class","samjermain"]Harper rarely came to headquarters. Most people didn’t like seeing a kid running around—especially one known for having sticky fingers. The girl’s habit of walking around barefoot didn’t help either. But, when jobs came due, Daddy would summon her to the office. Typically, the letter came clutched in the claws of a no-nonsense Corviknight.

With the meeting not until tomorrow morning—ugh--Harper was looking for a way to distract herself. This place felt like a matchbox. Sure, she had a bed, but there wasn’t really anywhere to go. A gutter rat like her always needed an exit route-something hard to find in a submarine. But the courtyard offered a break from the trapped feeling. Stunted or not, the trees offered a foot up on the competition.

Which is where she was chilling when Sage walked in. Her Sprigatito lounged on the branch above her, red eyes looking for nonexistent vermin on the ground below. As Sage settled in, the thief would silently roll onto her belly. Lifting a finger for quiet, she moved to hang from her knees.

Thinking herself invisible, she moved to pluck the mask from his face. "This thing's cool! Where'd ya get it?" The cat leaned down above her, curious about how this would go. “I’ve never seen you round here before!”

[attr="class","samjerpoke"]

[attr="class","samjermain"]Cumulus spent years perfecting his helicopter parent act. It just happened to extend to everyone and not just his adopted ward. Though, some part of him was curious about how this stuff worked. His little trainer kept how these things worked a secret—even from him.

As the card vanished into the deck, the jelly ball returned to its place over Harper’s right shoulder. Like a balloon on a string, he bubbled above her shoulders, switching sides on occasion. Harper, meanwhile, was trying her best not to open her eyes—her eyelids squishing tighter each time the urge struck.

Harper really hated being unable to see. It made her feel like she was walking on a trapeze blindfolded and netless. Not that she ever had the courtesy of a net. Daddy thought kittens learned bests from bruises. Finally, the guy put the card back in with the others.

As she began o shuffle the deck anewBut, finally, the guy slid the card back in. With a pop, red eyes shot open. “Thanks, Mister! Time for a reunion!” Deft fingers turned the deck into a maelstrom of numbers and red backings."Watch as the Great Magician Harper uses her powers to pull the same card! Marvel at the power of my precag—precognition!” Finally, with a resolute snap, she came to a stop. And, seconds later, the Ace of Spades was face-up in her hands.

She grinned, offering t back to him. “I probably should’ve had you sign it or something, but it’s still pretty cool, huh?!” The Castform beside her—far prouder of this than all the stolen rubies in the world, grinned. “: D”

[attr="class","samjerpoke"]

[attr="class","samjermain"]To Harper, this guy wasn’t some rabid maniac. He was just another boring adult who worried way too much about stuff. She could see it in his face and stern expression. It made her want to giggle. His answer drew a frown from the thief. A puff of hot air escaped as she blew errant bangs out of her eyes. “That sounds boring AF.” She wrinkled her nose. “I’ll just use the stars like old sailors did!”

Not that she knew anything about stars. Growing up in the poorest parts of Slateport, the closest she got to seeing them was the lights on plane wings. But she’d figure it out eventually. Planning and being careful had never been her things. Cats had nine lives after all, and she wanted to live that way!

When Dorian mentioned Cumoo, Harper sighed. “I know he is, but he doesn’t have to be so pushy.” She narrowed her eyes at the Castform, sneaking a raspberry when she thought Dorian wasn’t looking. How am I ever gonna learn if I ain’t given a chance to do anything.” For a kid that’d been risking tetanus as long as she could walk, a domestic life felt like a casket. Those months she spent with her foster families—getting up at the same time and going to bed super early.

The call was met with an excited grin. “Really!?” Her breath emerged in a breathless gasp as she leaned up and over the Flygon’s neck. Still new to flying, the dragon grumbled, trying to steady himself as she slid further up his back. Then, the woods cleared. “Wooooow! Dorian, look! It’s full of old stuff!”

She gently prodded the Flygon with her feet, now hanging into his face. “C’mon, Chompy! Get down there!” Before he touched the ground, she jumped off and raced toward the nearest entrance.

[attr="class","samjerpoke"]

[attr="class","wildtemp"]

[attr="class","samjermain"]Twig might be a lot of things, but stupid wasn't one of them.

As the fox raised its staff, the cat jettisoned away at a 90-degree angle. Bits of ashen fur dropped to the alley as he ran, his tail still smoldering. Once he was out of range, big red eyes lifted to glare at the older woman.

He didn't notice as a pile of scrap rose up behind him.

While others might be irritated at being overlooked, Harper took it as a point of pride. Thieves were meant to be sneaky after all. "Nobody was supposed to know she was there! “That's kinda the point, silly!" And, since they were stealing from the dumpster, it was best to keep it on the down low. People got weird about their trash.

"There's a ton of good restaurants too! That's what made Twiggy—" As Serena turned to face the Shieldon, Harper was startled by a clamor up the alley.

A Kingambit stepped from the shadows behind the Sprigatito. Its armor was cracked and its gait unsteady. It definitely didn't look like its normally regal self. The thing was so down and out that it was walking. It also didn't seem to like Twiggy squatting on its turf.

It stared angrily down at the cat. Malice filled its beady little eyes. On the bottom rung, the steel type wanted a rung to stand on. It reached down to grasp his tail. "Hey! Stupid!" Harper's call got his attention. A sticky beer can bounced off his stache as he turned to face the teenager. "Pick on somebody your own size!" He dropped the cat with a deep rumble. The blades on either side of his jaw—pockmarked by countless battles—started to glow.

It moved toward the girl. Harper waited. Just a teensy bit more! He crossed into ball distance. “Gotcha!”

The second he did, Harper tossed a PokeBall at him. She'd let him go later. Probably. Maybe dump him at a landfill first.

NOTES
Catching Kingambit

[attr="class","samjermain"]The man’s admission made the pickpocket blink. What a lame intro to magic. Harper’s had come courtesy of one of the meth heads on cannery row. He’d been a pretty big deal in Unova before he got caught fleecing his audience. Even though he’d only made a flower appear, it made Harper’s whole night. For days after, she pestered Daddy about how he did it.

Even after being told, the act seemed just as cool. It was like stealing but people liked it! Sneaking stuff where it didn’t belong. Grabbing things out of places it did. Making fricking Arcanine disappear? That shit was sweet as hell. Her voice was full of reverence and awe. “Your first magic trick?” She stared down at the worn cards, frowning for a minute. “Not exactly able to judge me are ya, Mister?”

Again, the stunned blink followed. “What kind of stuff?” Had he never snuck into a rich brat’s birthday party before? Watched some boring old movie with CGI magic stuff? “Just didn’t have the funds?” After a moment, her eyes lifted to the Castform over her shoulder. It pressed its gelatinous lips into a thin, stern line. It shook its head—twice.

“C’mon!” She shouted. As she stood, the little card table was upended. The papers not in her hand clattering to the floor. “I got an idea!” She grabbed for his hand intent on dragging him deeper into the alley.

[attr="class","samjerpoke"]

[attr="class","samjermain"]They needed a gymnast for this job. A small temple had been unearthed—something that might involve the Unown--and they needed an acrobat to get it. That and someone completely expendable. So, an order trickled down from some nameless higher-up until it reached Daddy’s ears. He’d presented the orders on the tip of one claw, trying his best not to sigh as the girl struggled through the paperwork.

After signing away her soul in exchange for a decent payday (none of which she’d get), the thief started prepping. Somewhere along the way, she picked up a tagalong. The guy was called the mad dog. Which was fine by Harper. Everybody was a little bit mad after all. They set out early in the morning—something the pinkette really hated.

The whole way here, Harper’s face couldn’t be separated from the window. Normally a chatterbox, the ride was punctuated by a curious, uncharacteristic silence. A city-slicker born and raised, the thief could count the number of times she left Slateport on one hand. So, even the dullness of Petalburg Woods drew wide-eyed wonder.

Finally, she popped the silence like the top of a Pringles can. Her question was shouted over the wind. “It’s so big. How’s anybody find anybody in a place like this?” She leaned excitedly over the side of her newly evolved Flygon, Chompy. “ : [ “ The Castform hovering around her head circled closer, moving to nudge her back into the threadbare saddle. A tiny hand waved him off.


“Stop it, Moo!” She scowled as the Castform—currently in Sunny Day form—circled to face her eye to eye. “I can’t see.” She turned to the older man next to her. “Can you tell him to chill out? It’s not that dangerous.” She huffed. “I’ve been on taller jungle gyms.”


As she argued with Cumoo, their destination became visible—its extremities marked by a subtle pattern of familiar lights.

[attr="class","samjerpoke"]