27th Move: Out of Range

27th Move: Out of Range

Route 37 Apricorn Grove, Johto.

Fake Out was for pranksters. I meant that in every twist and turn of the phrase—including the move and the corresponding ability.

Donphan had been observed to typically inherit two particular abilities. Sturdy or Sand Veil. Neither of which, if you’re paying attention, are the specific ability that allows it to outspeed any priority moves I knew and trap us with a status. With that line of logic: the paralysis Naoko, I, and our team were plagued by, was premature. 

The splash of red plastered between the grooves of the armour Pokémon’s tread wasn’t roadkill. 

No hooves attempted to floor us. No tusks tried to gore us. Instead, the Donphan hosed its nose across its back, coiled around the death-posed individual, and flung it in our direction with a loud trumpet from its trunk. 

I wasn’t born with the magical gift of Pokémon speech, but even I could translate the ‘I choose you!’ the elephant bellowed. “Not that I consider myself a battle expert, or anything. But, uh… ain’t that meant to be the other way ‘round?” 

Limbs languidly flailed. A coin toss without the money; the suspected trainer flipped ass over end as they sailed bonelessly across the short distance between our two parties. 

Baloo, Yecu, and Tuki all scattered just before the rag-dolled figure crashed face-first onto their hastily vacated footprints. 

Heads, shoulders, knees, and toes. The body came to a skidding halt in that order. 

Nothing stirred, nothing bled, but I held my breath until I confirmed they took theirs. Their chest pumped, and their spine rose in response. I relinquished a relieved exhale, while the best the body could muster was a snore. 

As far as abilities go, this one was undoubtedly cursed with Comatose.

“Dear, dear, dear! What have the rangers come to these days?” While I’d been contemplating the need to dip back into town and fetch the coroner, Naoko’s posture returned to a far more relaxed state. “Your alarm is unnecessary, young Uki. I recognise the gentleman before us.” 

Her stride was as prim as ever; a smooth sharp glide. But instead of her featherlight meandering that never left even a ripple in the driest dirt, she drove deep divots with each stomp. The last of which landed smack—thwack!—dab onto the ranger’s lower spine. 

“Aahngh!?” A surprisingly girlish squeal erupted. But as their torso curled up like a boiled Clauncher, a face full of a scraggly scruff shattered that illusion, and disabused me of any but the burliest of notions. 

“Count yourself lucky, sir.” Naoko’s expression was serene, but the condescension in her tone was blatant. “This is a service your ilk only receive as part of a paid package, is it not?”

“Huh? Whuzzat?” The now-revealed ranger sleepily rolled over as soon as Naoko stopped grounding her heel on his coccyx. Rubbing the sand out of his eyes, both biological and geological, ranger sandman blinked blearily up at Naoko from his prone position. “Did I pass out? Is my shift over? Have I finally returned to heaven on earth? Come, my angel, my body is weary from the wilderness and in need of a good scrub-a-dub-dub!” 

Ignoring the delirious man beneath her, Naoko turned to me and launched into a lecture. “Pay close attention, Uki. Your penchant for collecting an eclectic range of vocations should not extend towards becoming a Pokémon ranger. Lest you devolve into debauchery like this fool here.”

I, as well as my scattered Pokémon, who in the meantime had congregated around me, all raised a salute at Naoko’s stern scolding. “Yes, ma’am!” Paws, claws, wings, and fings, respectively.

“Notice the red uniform.” Her nail hammered down at the squirming per—son under her. “The league mandates they wear bright red uniforms so that they are identifiable in emergency situations and easy to spot whenever needed, regardless of terrain or climate.” 

Following her instruction, I surveyed what I’d earlier mistook as blood-drenched regular clothes. 

Canvas cap, windbreaker, and proper hiking trousers, each the same hue and monogrammed with the Johto league logo. Minus the black patches around his kneecaps, the seat of his pants, and his shirt; he was redder than dead.

Something that seemed to draw Naoko’s ire like a charging Tauros. “In practice, however, it is only ineffective camouflage for us residents of Ecruteak. Not an evening goes by without one such reprobate being discovered bathing in the afterglow of a bordello’s red lantern; or asleep in a puddle of their vomit among the pile of whatever other refuse the local wine-houses discarded the next morning. Never are they found where they’re supposed to be.”

“Cut me some slack, angel-lady! I spend three weeks out of the month patrolling wild areas absolutely alone–and get paid a pretty penny to do so. Don’t leave a lotta room for a social life, yeah? Gotta spend that Poképurse somehow!” 

Which was all well and good, in my opinion. But then the question became whether his presence here was in the same leisurely vein, or served an important purpose. “Actually, while we’re on the subject of not being where you’re supposed to—”

He interjected as he stood and dusted himself off. “—Good point, kid! Sorta my job to keep people outta the area, right now. You folks lost? Even if y’all aren’t, I’m gonna have to show you back to town.”

Wait—why the cordon? “I don’t remember any travel advisory.” 

“That’s ‘cuz there weren’t one. League’s scrambling to keep info on the down-low. ‘Member that rumble a few weeks ago?” He thrust his thumb towards the glade behind him. “Epicentre of that ruckus is right here.” 

Naoko tossed a sceptical eyebrow up. “How precisely does our governing body,” she also threw in sarcastic air-quotes as an accompaniment, “expect to shield evidence of an earthquake, especially this close to Ecruteak? My communique back home may have been in sparse urgent bursts, but not a word remains unwhispered there.”

The ranger leaned in conspiratorially and tapped his nose. “S’just the thing, though. Weren’t no earthquake–it was a meteor strike! Levelled a quarter of the entire glade. Sent hordes of Pokémon running to and from the place. Normally, they’d just announce a mass outbreak, and call it a day.” 

Breadcrumbs though they were, I ably followed the trail he was leaving. “I’m assuming the situation ain’t so cut-and-dry this time—pretty juicy, on the contrary. For someone who’s meant to keep things quiet, you sure are remarkably forthcoming…” Guess Donphan’s pitch had knocked his teeth, tongue, and sense all loose.

As he unconcernedly shrugged and shook his head, I could practically hear his addled brains rattling around inside his skull. “Doesn’t matter, ‘cuz angel’s correct. Impossible to keep secrets in this part of the region. I’ll bet you anything those dance hall witches already know what’s goin’ on; but are tight-lipped since they probably want in on the action, too. Can’t blame ‘em for it. I mean, you would be too if you had unbridled access to a brand new deposit straight from Cresselia’s domain itself!” 

It clicked. And by ‘it’, I meant the Pokédex beeping in my pocket. “Oh, moonstone!” The vestiges of Pokémon activity traced by the dex fit into place.

Yet, that wasn’t the only puzzle being put to picture in my mind. 

“How… vexing that they should keep me unappraised of something so trivial.” Irritation tinged Naoko’s voice as she mumbled to herself. The dark, notoriously super-effective against psychics.

The hand that’d been saluting this entire time slowly began rubbing circles over my temples as I pieced all the clues together.

This all started the second I took my first stumbled step outside of Union cave. 

Someone as high-profile as a gym leader ditching their seat of influence, rather than delegating to their stable of trainers, required some serious overhead pull. Bugsy’s disappearance—likely with other watchful eyes’—also served as enough of a distraction to embolden Rocket to sneak in and cause their brand of mayhem. And the powers-that-be, realising their own inadvertent complicity, being silent on the matter to bury the lede wasn’t a farfetched response.

But why? What’s so critical that neither celestial providence nor terroristic tantrums were disclosed to the public? Hell, Celebi’s resurgence wasn’t even a fart in the wind yet. 

“That heritage festival is a pretty huge deal, huh?” No competing event could be allocated oxygen, it seemed.

Naoko paused. Her stare darted towards me, narrowed, and crinkled at the corners as her lips minutely perked in delight. “Astute, Uki. The cross-cultural exhibition is a greater occurrence than even I fully comprehend. No Cutiflies on you, though. As you continue to impress, I cannot say I am altogether bothered by my exclusion in the preparations. My sisters at Ecruteak hall may, in turn, experience jealousy when I regale them with my adventures alongside you.”

“W—w—wait!” I’d almost forgotten we had company. “You—? You’re one of them?” The ranger’s slouch went immediately rigid.

“Ah! How impolite of me to fail introductions. I am Naoko—one of the so-called witches originating from Ecruteak Theatre.” 

“Shouldn’t it balance it out since I called you angel, also?”

“No.” Poor guy should’ve continued to play carrion, considering the predatory glare Naoko pinned him with. Swear I saw her lick her lips, too.

I watched him stutter through blubbered excuses and apologies. Reflected, how once upon a time, that would’ve been my reaction as I faced my inevitable fate.

Why would I worry, anyway? The plot had helpfully unveiled itself with an engraved invitation stating date and venue. Which meant I had complete freedom to pursue whatever else I wanted until then.

There was a famous proverb the crusty barnacles back in Alola loved to spout. The direct translation went ‘wind or water, a Mantine must surf the currents’. In other words: ‘life happens, go with the flow.’ 

In other other words: ‘fuck it, we ball’! Which was precisely what I initially came here to do.

There was a treasure trove of apricorns waiting to be plucked and shucked into dollars. And damned if I didn’t have the perfect shit-out-of-luck schmuck to go play fetch. 

Naoko pouted as I interrupted her sadomasochistic indulgence. I most recently bore the brunt of it and knew no one deserved that treatment.

Draping my arms over his hunched shoulders, I yanked the ranger over next to his partner Donphan in a huddle. He followed without complaint; grateful to escape Naoko’s auspices. “No offence, buddy. But this shit’s way above your pay grade.” 

“You’re telling me… Man, I really stopped in it this time!” 

“You know… I might put in a good word for you if I can get my hands on a few apricorns from the grove. It’s why we suffered the trek this far out, in the first place.”

He aggressively ruffled his hair in frustration, and his Donphan rushed to pat it down with rough thumps of their trunk. “Dude, if the big-wigs catch wind I let people into that war zone under my watch, I’d be lucky to keep my head—forget my job. The hordes of venomous Nidos in there are bad enough. My partner barely kept me safe from them, but even she couldn’t protect me from the Jigglys.” Explained his initial state. 

“Tut-tut-tut!” My disappointing tutting dropped his mood into deeper defeat. “A compromise, then. You brave the danger, and we’ll wait for you here in relative safety.” I’d have my unfair share of it via the plot, I’m sure. 

He bit his lip and arrived at a reluctant decision. “You promise I won’t get in trouble?”

I mimed crossing my heart. “And hope to die.” 

The ranger nodded, saddled his Pokémon, and raced off into the thicket. 

Aware that he’d be a while, I flipped my Pokédex to the search function and returned to where I’d done my earlier scan. 

Naoko trailed, but not quietly. “I have heard it said that idle hands are the devil’s work. Witnessing how you whispered into his ears and your current busyness, it is apparent that the refrain is astoundingly untrue.” 

“I categorically disagree. Compared to you, that forest is better the devil you know. Besides, I highly doubt he’ll go too far in. Probs, he’ll get his Donphan to sniff out everything on the outskirts. Whatever supply he comes back with won’t be enough for the long term.” 

She peered at my dex as it beeped once it got done isolating traces of Stantler and switched to tracking mode the same way I’d used when hunting for alpha Sandshrew. 

“Am I to understand this is your means of securing a steadier source of apricorns?” 

“Mon’s gotta eat, yeah?” The evicted herd of Stantler would have the best beat on the next most bountiful clutch of apricorns. “And if there’s one thing I’ve learnt, it’s that running and hiding will only make a meal out of you.”