This isn’t her story, this is her brother’s, but when the PokeCenter’s alarms blare–intruders, warning, the Center has been breached–she can’t just sit by and let him fight alone.
Especially since Pikachu is still injured.
They’re not heroes yet, it’s just their first day, she’s not interfering she’s helping.
And plus, she thinks, as Gary steps forward, gesturing his Squirtle who looks equally eager for a fight, it’s not her that will be the problem.
“Squirtle, water gun!”
Ember looks at Team Rocket, live and in the flesh, real–or, at least, as real as this world may or may not be. If they weren’t actively attacking a PokeCenter and trying to steal injured Pokemon, she’d smile.
Team Rocket was iconic–almost as much as Ash and Pikachu–they were misfits who were still good people despite their crimes. Outcasts from society who had made a mishmash family of their own and she can’t say that hadn’t appealed to her before.
But she already had a family and, for now, they needed her.
“Sandshrew, scratch!”
—
Gary has grown up with Pokemon his entire life–his grandpa’s lab as much a home as their actual house and the Ketchum’s house–but he’s never seen a Pokemon that can talk like a human.
Even while battling, he can be bewildered and impressed.
It’s not that Pokemon can’t understand human language–even the least intelligent of species can understand what humans are saying in intent if not quite exact definitions, and psychic types with telepathy can communicate directly to humans–but physically they can’t articulate enough to say words.
Or, well, they shouldn’t be able to.
Or, at least, Gary’s never heard of one doing so and he’s pretty sure his grandpa wouldn’t keep something like that secret.
“Hey, me-ouch, that hurt!” the Meowth says, paw to his face. Gary isn’t sure if that pun was intended or not. If the Meowth knows it even was a pun.
Arceus, Gary might be having some kind of existential crisis right now.
~
A/N: … argh, sorry, okay, i just… this is all i have for now…
Post Word Count: 330, Running Word Count: 9978