[PKMN] SPACE CASE!

[skinstealer]

LAST TIME ON SPACE CASE:
Our hero is introduced- an electabuzz named Stretch, a skilled battling major with top grades! After graduating with an absolutely knockout final battle, it sets out for immediate adventure! What awaits Stretch now- and who is this mysterious new pokemon?


EPISODE 2: A SMOGGY SITUATION

STRETCH: I-
STRETCH: You can't, just-

 

She just stares at you.


You screw your eyes shut.

This was always happening. People pushing you around.
You were the top of your class. A respectable fighter, even with two moves.
But you suck at this. All of this talking shit, standing up for yourself-
It's your worst flaw.

.....


Second worst.

STRETCH: .....
STRETCH: Fine.
STRETCH: Until Pewter.
EERIE: Fair deal.
EERIE: If we don't vibe, we break it off, right?
STRETCH: Right.
EERIE: Cool.
EERIE: Like I said, I've got my share of experience with-

 

She spins her claw-finger at you.

EERIE: Whatever this is.

 

Your antennae flicks in irritation.

EERIE: Relax, I don't mean it badly.
EERIE: People like you, they're packing power.
EERIE: Useful power.
EERIE: I heard about your fight.
EERIE: You can go far.
STRETCH: ....yeah.
STRETCH: That's the goal.
EERIE: League, then?

 

You nod, going back to avoiding looking at her.

...only for your eyes to wander to her other side, the one not hidden by a bag.


She has a bone strapped to her hip, attached to the cutout belts.

EERIE: Having fun?

 

You snap out of it, flushing.

STRETCH: It's-
STRETCH: It's not like that.
EERIE: Sure.
STRETCH: It's the- the bone.
STRETCH: Clubs aren't common around here.

 

She narrows her eyes at you.

EERIE: What of it?
STRETCH: Nothing.
STRETCH: Wouldn't expect it on a rhyhorn, though.
EERIE: Thinking I can't hack it?

 

You shrug.

STRETCH: No.
STRETCH: Just wondering if you killed somebody for it.

 

Eerie scoffs.

EERIE: I did not kill anyone.

 

The implication hangs, your brows raised.

She does not elaborate, the two of you silently glaring at each other.

????: H-
????: Hey!!

 

A voice snaps you out of it, squinting as you look across the room.

A gloom is running towards you, nearly stumbling over someone's foot and getting a nasty look for it.

????: Stretch!!!
 

You exhale.

STRETCH: Inside voice, Frond.
FROND: O-oh, shit, sorry-

 

 

He finally catches up, taking a moment to wipe the drool on his face. He's dressed the same way you always see him, in plain clothes and messy lipstick. Seems like his graphic tee of the day is a burger, one of those shit ones from the only place in town.

He is one year older than you, graduated with decent enough marks, and has never found a party member since.

FROND: Sorry! Just-
FROND: You graduated!
STRETCH: Yeah.
FROND: Congrats!

 

He claps his featureless hands together exaggeratedly, Eerie giving him a perplexed stare.

EERIE: Guessing you know him.
STRETCH: He's...my peer.
STRETCH: We had some classes together.
FROND: Yeah!
FROND: Used to hang out, too, when our moms were busy!




 

....Frills was friends with your mother, had been long since before you were born.
It wasn't uncommon. She had a lot of friends.


Frond had wanted to battle just like you, the two of you sparring in the dirt outside the university. You'd talk about your dreams, of challenging the league- even together, if you could swing for it.





Then you evolved, and everything changed.




He saw it happen.




You can't forgive yourself for that. For putting him through watching.



He was always kind to you, all the same. Never brought it up, just asked if you were doing okay and brought you snacks in between sessions.



All you could do was give him guilty looks in return.



He wouldn't get it. No one did.

EERIE: ...got it.
FROND: I, I figured-
FROND: Since you graduated-!


 

Your eyes widen.
He-
He surely-

FROND: We could go together!
FROND: Just like we planned!



 

....he still wanted to chase that dream?

FROND: I tried to make new friends, but-
FROND: Guess they just weren't good fits!

 

There's a pit in your stomach.
Had he waited for you?
It- you had only been a year behind, but-

STRETCH: .....
STRETCH: I-
EERIE: You don't look like you can pull much weight, bud.
STRETCH: Hey.
EERIE: Hey yourself!
EERIE: We have a city to get to!
EERIE: We don't need to get dragged down by a childhood friend or whatever!

 

You grit your teeth, relieved that at the very least Frond didn't seem hurt.
You may not know what to do about him, but he didn't deserve that.

STRETCH: He's coming with us.
FROND: Really?!

 

He's beaming. You have no idea if you'll regret this decision.

STRETCH: I know what he can do.
STRETCH: More than I can say of you.
EERIE: ....
STRETCH: You invite yourself on my trip, you have-

 

You try not to stumble, your mouth dry as you stick up for the two of you.

STRETCH: Have to deal with my decisions.
EERIE: Ugh.
EERIE: Alright, alright!
EERIE: If we don't eat shit on our way to Pewter, I'll put up with it.
EERIE: But if you don't pull your weight, I'm bailing.
STRETCH: no one even asked you anyway...
EERIE: What was that?
STRETCH: Nothing.
 

The three of you exchange registrations, passing around your move cards and skill assessments. The typing had to be written in, immutable outside of professional evaluation- but your statistics were tracked automatically. Benefit of getting chipped, though you never really understood what the numbers meant in the first place. You were told it would make more sense when you got stronger, the numbers becoming more clear to read and compare.







Frond is an ice/ground type gloom, resembling a root vegetable. As you remember, he prefers cold weather and likes to sleep outside. Drove Frills crazy, always going on about how he has a perfectly good bed- but he insisted it was practice for traveling, and it'd come in handy for the real deal.

Hopefully he was right.

Eerie is water type, and on a second glance, you recognize her crests and hide as curved seashell material. It isn't the first time you've seen something like that on a variant rock type, and you can't help but kick yourself for not making the connection. That kind of oversight could have cost you.

And...her moves....

STRETCH: ...Smog?
EERIE: Yeah? What of it?

 

You look her up and down, unable to find any source.

EERIE: Dude.
STRETCH: That's usually one with indicators.
EERIE: So you can make eye contact when you're sizing someone up?
STRETCH: Nn.

 

You immediately look back away.

FROND: H-hey, don't bully it like that.
EERIE: If it's going to leer like, that, I get to comment.
EERIE: ....it's a good eye, at least.
EERIE: Like I said-

 

A small wisp of purple smoke appears at her claw tip before shaking it away.

EERIE: I have my own experience with the unknown.

 

Her glare tells you not to push it.
You oblige.

STRETCH: As long as it gets the job done.




 

Frond's moveset is simple. REST and SWIFT. Eerie looks distinctly irritated at this, letting out a snort as she reads the former.

EERIE: You seriously trained in rest strats?
FROND: I'm a sleepy guy!
FROND: May as well do something good with it.
FROND: Keeps me going, and feeling fresh.
EERIE: ....
STRETCH: He's good.

 

Frond beams at you.a

STRETCH: Swift is good, too.
STRETCH: Glad to see you got that locked in.

 

The gloom does an exaggerated bow.

FROND: You have no idea how long that took.
STRETCH: I can guess.

 

You catch yourself smiling for a moment, shaking it off out of nerves.
You...don't want to get his hopes up that you're normal, or something.
But he did a good job, and seems thrilled at the praise. Earned it, too.


Your moveset gets properly roasted, exactly what you were dreading.

EERIE: Not great power on these.
EERIE: You seriously were the top of your class.
STRETCH: Power isn't just in raw numbers.
FROND: Yeah!
FROND: Stretch has always been a big sucker for technique!
STRETCH: Studying your opponents and taking advantage where you can is a better move than raw hits.
STRETCH: I focus on finding and exploiting weak points.
EERIE: Where would you hit me, then?

 

You slide your gaze over, trying to be more subtle this time.

STRETCH: You'd be more difficult.
STRETCH: Your shell crests block a lot of tender areas.
STRETCH: Less room for error.
STRETCH: I'd have to be careful.
EERIE: Could you do it, then?
EERIE: Take me out?
STRETCH: Yes.

 

The answer comes cleanly, the rhyhorn looking a bit stunned at how fast you answer.

STRETCH: Easily.
EERIE: .....
EERIE: ....sheesh, real charmer you are.
STRETCH: Says the person who invited herself.

 

You avoid her eye daggers.

FROND: Look-
FROND: We just gotta get to Pewter, right?
FROND: It's just a forest away!
FROND: If we just, put up with each other, it's only a few days' time!




 

.....






Viridian Forest.

Your parents used to take you all the time before the incident. You remember clambering all over rocks, jumping off of stumps with Frond, splashing in muddy puddles.

It was wonderful. You could get through in two to three days, even shorter if you knew where you were going and had enough mobility. There were trails for travelers and people there for recreation back then-


But they'd grown worn down, since you were younger. Some cited the weather, other cited a lack of caretaking from its guardians. You hadn't seen a forest ranger in years, even just milling around town.







It was so easy to get lost after that.







You did not step back inside after evolving.
The exit to Pallet Town stood as an impassable gate, barred by your inability to walk outside.
Not today.
You're conquering that maze.
To the top.






Tents packed. Bags loaded up. You can already feel your back hurting as you take in the late afternoon sun filtering through the leaves. You wonder if coming out this late is even a good idea, but the three of you wanted to get a move on as soon as possible.

It's...for the best. You didn't exactly want to go home tonight, and the idea of sleeping in the community center appeals less than a relatively private tent- even if it was in the middle of the woods that made your stomach clench. You needed your space at night, and while city community centers had private rooms you could rent out, no such luck at the local one. No sleeping on a public couch for you, thanks.


It doesn't take long, however, for things to go off the rails.

FROND: Shit, I'll be back in a sec-!

 

He had excitedly pointed out something in the distance that neither you or Eerie could make out in the low lighting, even with your excellent vision. You knew better than trying to deter him, your rhyhorn companion having no such common sense.

EERIE: HEY-
EERIE: YOU'RE GONNA GET LOST!

 

She crashes after him, making a loud enough ruckus to alert every mon in the area to your presence.

Fuck's sake.

Alone in a small clearing, you sling your backpack to the side and lean on a tree.




It's as beautiful as you remember. Even with the signs of civilization worn away, it smells so fresh and clean, the air crisp. You could get lost in it forever, actual positive memories flooding you for once-






There's a sound in the brush.





You freeze.





You try to snap out of your reminiscing, focusing your senses.

It wasn't Eerie or Frond. Frond smelled like a damn potato, and after walking for some time, you could tell that Eerie had a faint scent of sea breeze. Smell was important for identification, after all, and buzzes like yourself were particularly sensitive to it all.

No, this was-




....cinnamon-?


You don't get the chance to question it.




Something bursts out of the brush-



-slamming into you with its hip, sending you tumbling and rolling-




-only to pin you down with-

oh, no


You are pinned under someone's ass.


Touching the ground.
You are touching the ground.
You are being pushed into the dirt.
You haven't felt the ground in months. And now you're being full body pressed into it.



By someone's ass.





You would rather die than move right now.



For all you know, it could be someone about to- this could be bad! This could be a very, very bad and dangerous position to be in!

You could be in serious trouble. You should give off a bubble pulse. You should do, like, just about anything in this situation.


Inability to stand up for yourself? Yes. Horrible. Your second worst trait.
But-


Your absolute worst-!






You are being pressed into the dirt and all you can think to do is dig your claws into the grass, desperate for any other outcome than the attacker seeing how tight your jeans are.




The pressure relieves, panic surging through you as your body begins to hover as usual-


-only for a foot to slam into your skull, stomping it into the mud and sending the back half of your body into a full hover.

Well, it's definitely visible now. You're fucked. You're completely and utterly fucked.

not in the way you want either Shut up shut up bad thoughts shut up shut UP

????: I won't h-have you-
????: Ruffians, bully me any longer!
STRETCH: Nn-

 

You try to fire off a bubble pulse, doing just about jack shit in the process. Still-

They pause.

Uncomfortably.

STRETCH: P-
STRETCH: Nnnnot-
STRETCH: Trying-

 

You are two steps away from inhaling mud.

STRETCH: to hurt you-
????: ....
????: O-oh!
????: My apologies- ah-

 

They remove their foot.

You're free-
-only for your body to rotate back into its default, upright hovering state-

STRETCH: shitshitshitshitshit

 

Desperately trying to get into any pose other than the one your stupid, stupid cursed body always snaps back into any time you're not asleep is failing miserably. You squeeze your eyes shut, certain your entire body is crackling like crazy.

They don't yell.
They don't scream, or call you names.
They don't call you a creep, or throw anything at your head.




it's not like before
why?



When you open your eyes, a tall, brown golbat woman is standing there, watching you with a confused expression.

Bewildered, but not afraid- or even upset.




...however, she is definitely looking at your dick, straining against the dirt covered denim.

STRETCH: AH
STRETCH: S-SORRY-
????: N, no, it's-
????: Seriously, it's-

 

You wrap your tail around your waist, wincing at the uncomfortable friction.

????: Oh, I-
????: Do you need help...?
STRETCH: N
STRETCH: NO

 

You twitch at the very implication, desperately trying to convince yourself it's just the golbat being nice.

????: Really, it's no trouble-!
????: Bodies react the way they do, and well, sometimes-
STRETCH: I KNOW HOW IT WORKS

 

It comes out of you way too loud, clapping a hand over your mouth and giving her a guilty, apologetic look.

She looks back with- it's not pity, somehow. More...curiosity.
It does not help your situation.

For a moment, you consider it. It wasn't abnormal for- for this to happen. For hookups like this. Adventurers- it got, lonely. You had heard about the casualness of it, something your parents outright disapproved of when you said you considered the path of a battler to begin with.

Why not just stay home? Don't you know that people end up worse out there in the wild? Troublemakers fighting and getting into violence, crime, deviant sex-

Why couldn't you just be a battler in Pallet Town?





.....stuck with them.



Forever.







You wonder whether she'd-

EERIE: Yo, Stretch?
STRETCH: SHIT
????: Oh-
EERIE: You dying over there?
EERIE: Frond found what he was yelling about, looks like weird mushy crap-

 

You frantically look between the golbat and the brush being pushed aside, closer and closer. A pained, nervous whine escapes you-



The stranger darts forward, pulling you into her wings and zipping behind a tree.
Shielding you from view.
Your dick rubbing into her skirt.
You feel like you're going to pass out-



....only to feel her stiffen in turn, clearly just as caught offguard.

You give off a little pulse without meaning to, the golbat shivering at the vibration against her own arousal. You haven't been touched in so long, haven't even been hugged, and never like this-


She moves her hips just a little, a horribly cute smile crossing her face.

It'd be so, so easy to-

EERIE: HEY
EERIE: HEY

 

You screw your eyes shut, your cover blown. Surely you'd never hear the end of it, this rhyhorn who's already given you shit for being bad at being a person finding out you're a giant pervert who fantasizes about screwing people in the woods. Any moment now-

EERIE: PUT IT DOWN!
EERIE: WEIRD- VAMPIRE FREAK!



 

...eh?



You look up, realizing that your captor's big ass mouth was wide open, looming over you.



Oh.

EERIE: NOW

 

Oh, this is stupid.

Clearly not wanting to reveal her own compromising position, she tries to set you down carefully-



Only for a massive blast of purple smoke to cover the area.




She drops you ungracefully, your hovering stopping you from hitting the ground. The smell is utterly fucking rancid, and it takes you a moment to realize-

If this is Eerie's SMOG attack, there's something deeply weird about it.



You feel genuinely woozy, dizzy, sick. You've been poisoned plenty of times, but this has you outright seeing auras around your fingertips, afterimages as you try to see if the golbat is okay.


She's doubled over, clearly having lost her momentum just as much as you have...if not far more, hacking and wheezing up phlegm.

????: W- What is-
 

The bone club hits the side of her head, making her cry out in pain- but not enough for her to fall.



Rage builds in your chest.


You aren't used to emotions these days.



Not for other people.
Not for anything but your pride.





The stranger adjusts her stance, her eyes furrowed.

????: I'm- I'm not your enemy!
????: I- I can get you the money-!
EERIE: Money? Who-
EERIE: You're trying to suck my party member dry!

 

Painful wording. Painful painful wording. Thank god for the smog making the very idea of oral sex sound nauseating.

????: I can promise you people, this is all a misunderstanding-
EERIE: Says the vampire!

 

She goes for another strike, a wide swing meant to take her midsection out-





Only to get hip checked, the same move that took you out and got you into this situation in the first place. Eerie gets pinned, and even through the haze, you can't help but feel your chest tighten over seeing it from a different point of view.





There's another blast of smog, snapping you out of your ogling.

You have got to get your shit together.





The bat doubles over now, easily pushed aside. She's wheezing and struggling with the poison, looking ready to pass out as the rhyhorn returns to her feet.


Eerie grabs for her club.




You have no idea how she got the smog.
It could be any reason at all.
She could be like you- just as she said.


...but a bone club to the head would be plenty to cause major damage either way.




You manage to pull yourself up against a rock.






You feel energy course through you as you launch yourself off of it, using it and your hover as a springboard. Getting in between the bat and your party member is easy, the bone club harmlessly bouncing off of the energy coursing all over your body.

EERIE: THE FUCK ARE YOU-

 

Spikes form on your palms.

STRETCH: SHE

 

A blow to the shoulder crest, the additional force behind it sending her a step back.

STRETCH: IS NOT


 

Another, putting more distance between her and the stranger.

STRETCH: AN ENEMY!
 

She tries to fire off more smog, it barely affecting you now. Getting revved up like this- it didn't happen often, and you frankly don't want to know why it's happening now.

You pull your hand back again, watching her eyes widen.





She goes down in another hit, falling backwards.



You're breathing heavily, coughing every few seconds- your body's attempt at getting the rest of the smog out.







You're about to turn around and ask if the bat is okay, only to get enveloped in another wing hug.

????: Thank you, I-
????: I can't-
????: You aren't part of that- that gang, are you-?

 

You blink.

STRETCH: ....gang....?

 

Her eyes are still tearing up, reddened from the smoke.

????: I was- I was running from them, I-

 

She coughs directly into your face.

????: Oh, no, I'm so sorry-!

 

Before you can tell her it's alright, she drops you, closing and covering her mouth.

STRETCH: I'm-
STRETCH: Just. A battler.
STRETCH: Eerie is my party member.
STRETCH: Ssssort of.
????: ...oh.
????: And you don't...know?

 

She looks nervously at the bone laying next to her.

STRETCH: Uh.
STRETCH: Just assumed she was weird.
????: That's certainly a way to put it-!

 

Another hack and wheeze, fumbling under her poncho with her tiny claws.

????: Shoot-
STRETCH: H. Here.

 

You offer her your sleeve.


She stares at it.

STRETCH: To. Cough in.
STRETCH: You need a, a handkerchief. Right?
????: Oh...
????: That's so kind of you.

 

She leans over, completely looming above as she delicately coughs up the last of the smog into your raised arm.




You try to think about the rock in front of you, laser focusing on it. Do not make eye contact. Do not think about any of the past hour. Don't do it.


She sniffles, pulling away.

????: I-
????: Forgive my manners.
????: I should introduce myself.
 

????: My name is Minerva.
STRETCH: H. Hello.

 

You still can't meet her eyes.

MINERVA: I'm sorry for being so forward earlier....
STRETCH: No, it's-
STRETCH: Alright.

 

You rub the back of your head, antennae crackling just a bit.

STRETCH: You're good.
 

You're able to get a proper look at her now that the smog's cleared.


She's a distinct warm color, your initial assumption of brown not quite correct. More accurately, she's somewhere between brown and orange- reminding you of the squash you sometimes saw in magazines. Pumpkin, or something. Your theory is further proven by the long tail sneaking out of her skirt, tipped with a leaf of some sort.

The dress she's wearing is beautiful, and...expensive. You haven't seen materials like that outside of visits to Pewter with your family when you were younger, before you ended up a cursed shut-in. She must be a city girl, through and through.

You feel embarrassed over it. You come from a dirt poor country town with barely anything to its name, and people with money make you distinctly nervous. They usually look at you with even more disdain than the usual, making Minerva's gentle expression all the more confusing.

...you aren't sure how she was even able to touch you without getting sick. That...did not happen. The main reason you haven't been able to make contact with basically anyone outside of combat is that, frankly, you're not up for people complaining of nausea, vertigo, dizziness, the works. It makes you feel like shit, every time.

So you stopped. It was easier this way. You could just wrap yourself up in blankets at night and pretend with your hand. Easier, but miserable in its own right- touch starvation in exchange for the safety of others.

But....



She didn't have any of that. Hell, she got hard over it, invited you to go further.




....you do not want to think about that right now. Possibly ever again. Best not to entertain that before you embarrass yourself further.

STRETCH: ....here.

 

You find your bag tossed to the side, rummaging through it. Thankfully no damage, all of your things intact.

The antidote's older, something you pilfered from the supply closet before leaving. You'll be damned if you spend money on anything you can just take instead.

She takes it carefully, fumbling with the cap with her wing-claws.

STRETCH: Ah.

 

You take it back, popping the cap off.

MINERVA: How lucky you are, to have a full hand...
STRETCH: ....

 

You aren't sure what to say, the bat gingerly reaching for the medicine and spritzing it in her mouth. She lets out another tiny cough, and then passes it back.

MINERVA: Thank you.
STRETCH: .............

 

You give her a thumbs up, feeling thoroughly stupid about it.

She just smiles.

This is the worst social situation you have ever been in.





...or at least it was, up until the brush rumbles again.




That's not your party members.
Judging from Minerva's defensive posture, it's not strangers, either.

????: Where, oh where-

 

Her ears go back, you gesturing for her to hide.

STRETCH: Go.
MINERVA: But-!

 

You jerk your head in a distinct "get the fuck out of here" gesture, the golbat visibly swallowing out of nerves. She flits away, ducking behind another tree.






A horrible low laugh echoes through the woods, a magmar stepping into the clearing.

????: Well, that's no good.
????: Where'd that pretty lady go?
????: You wouldn't happen to know, would'ja?

 

He's wearing all leather and spikes-


-a bone on his hip, connected by a chain.


Oh.
Alright.
Well.

????: Not much of a talker?
????: That's alright.

 

The chain jangles as he unhooks the club.

????: We can tussle.
 

 

You raise your palms, readying yourself.
His intimidation won't work on you.

STRETCH: Fine by me.
 

 

The pulse clearly hits him hard, but-
Nothing. No reaction besides a push back.

He grins.

????: That all you got, buzz?
????: Not able to stand so tall now, are ya?
????: Fight me like a real battler!

You feel a twinge of genuine fear.

Maybe it could work on you a little bit.





You use your tail to propel yourself forward, snapping it like a whip to close the distance and slam him with a palm spike. He takes it on the cheek, the other slap landing on the opposite side.

He spits, moving your head at the last second to avoid getting singed.

????: Son of a bitch-
 

You dodge with a mid-air tuck and roll, feeling the heat coming off of him as he catches your pant leg.
Fuck's sake, you just thrifted those.
A toasted cuff is better than your leg, though-




And you're still standing.





You dart around behind him to get two more needles off, narrowly dodging a tail lash. Open flames were always something you got particularly nervous about, more worried about any gear's flammability than your own. Burn heals worked great, but not on clothes.





Thankfully, he misses the next shot, trying to spin and find you.

????: Motherfucker-!
 

Again.
Again. Palms wherever you could find openings, energy spikes making him screech.

????: Y-you think you're some kind of hero, asshole?!

 

You don't flinch.
Not this time.





You slam both hands into his chest, energy crackling on your body as he slams into a tree from the sheer force.





He knocks out, falling against the tree as his flames dim.
He'll be fine. You kind of wish he wouldn't be.
You have no respect for people like him.

MINERVA: A- ah, um-

 

You nearly jump out of your skin, Minerva appearing from her hiding place.

STRETCH: Thought- thought I told you to run.
MINERVA: Well, yes, but-

 

She points to the unconscious rhyhorn in the dirt.

MINERVA: I was worried about your...friend.
STRETCH: ....
STRETCH: For her sake, or-

 

It's Minerva's turn to avoid eye contact.


Forget Frond, you are starting to really regret agreeing to bringing Eerie.






You can't inquire further, both of you jolting as a certain gloom's voice comes through not too far from you.

STRETCH: Shit.
MINERVA: Is that another fri-
STRETCH: Yes.
STRETCH: Stay put.

 

It comes out harsher than you intend it to, but the golbat nods.

MINERVA: And-
STRETCH: Eerie won't hurt you.
STRETCH: probably
MINERVA: Okay...go!

 

You nod back at her, racing into the woods.






Frond is face to face with a cloyster in leather, a sickening grin spread across his armored face. Just like the magmar, he's wielding a club.

What the hell did you get yourself into?

He spits some kind of seed onto Frond, the gloom panicking as small veins seeped into his feet.

FROND: G-gross-!
 

Even still, a fierce look sparks in his eye as he pulls his hand back, letting loose a stream of flower-like stars. They slice against the cloyster, managing to draw blood from his cheek.

????: Feisty!
 

FROND: C-creepy asshole-
 

The gloom doesn't get the words out fast enough, the club sending him straight to the ground.

Frond breathes heavy as the cloyster approaches, trying to ground himself, relax, clear his head-







-and conk the fuck out.






The veins, creeping around his ankles, start throbbing just as you skid into the clearing-


-readying the pulse-

EERIE: GET DOWN-!
STRETCH: H
 

Eerie clashes clubs with the leather-clad gangster, her face full of rage.

????: Look at what we got here!
????: Figured you had to run somewhere-
EERIE: SHUT UP
 

She breaks free of the clash, getting an unpleasantly off-target swing against his horns.


Taking the opportunity, you run to Frond's side.

FROND: H-hey-
STRETCH: Stay still.

 

You place your fingers against the roots, letting off small, harmless pulses to untangle them and get the gloom free.

FROND: You got good at that-
STRETCH: Not now.

 

You barely get the words out before the now-familiar poison gas floods the area.





You clap a hand over your face, doing the same for Frond. He immediately gets the message, both of you holding in air as long as possible.

The cloyster isn't so lucky, gagging and trying to catch his breath.

It starts dissipating, only for Eerie to look directly at you.

EERIE: TAG IN!

 

Shit.






You race at the cloyster, the mollusk readying something round from his pocket.






Even with the poison making him visibly woozy, he manages to fire two shots into your shoulder- pearls. They sting even with the reduced impact, the irritation that you'll have to treat a bruise later more aggravating than the wound itself.





He's too busy staggering to avoid you getting some face spikes in.





His club bounces off of you uselessly.

Idiot.





He gets you with more pearls.

Idiot asshole.





You slam his neck against the inside of his shell, making him gasp.


Idiot asshole terrorizing people.





You have no sympathy for the poison-wracked spit dripping from his mouth.





Motherfucker.

The kind of person you hated more than anything.






Nothing pissed you off more than bullies.






He goes down with a small crater.

EERIE: Got another one at five o'clock!

 

You whip around to see a wartortle advancing on Frond, and fast.







They shoot off darts of water at the gloom before you can fully react-






-doing basically nothing to the snoozing potato.

????: The fuck?
 

They unsheathe their own weapon, this time throwing the bone and watching it throttle towards Frond.






It thunks against his head, the gloom making a loud snort as he wakes up.

FROND: Nngh...
FROND: Ow.
 

He doesn't even get the time to get to his feet before getting slammed with a supersonic pulse, clearly disoriented.

FROND: Ow-
FROND: Really?

 

Even still, he manages to send a swift shot directly into the wartortle's chest, staggering them.







Another supersonic pulse, likely a misfire- it doesn't do anything, Frond's head already swimming plenty.

FROND: Not cool of you.

 

The wartortle's scrambling- an easy panicker.

You don't even have to do anything here.







And you let Frond take the win.

FROND: Whoo.

 

He plunks himself back on the ground.

No more gangsters show. It's getting dark.

STRETCH: ...let's get out of here.







 

The mood at camp is...awkward, to say the least.

One presumably ex-gang member sulking, your childhood friend munching chips, your awkward ass staring into nothing-

-and a golbat tending to the fire, humming a soft tune.

EERIE: ....I don't know why we're keeping her around.
FROND: It'd be wrong to leave her alone tonight!
EERIE: She is-
EERIE: literally
EERIE: A nocturnal vampire bat.
EERIE: This is when she doesn't eat shit.
MINERVA: Y-yes, well-!

 

She folds her wings, looking sheepish.

MINERVA: Very true.
MINERVA: But I haven't fed properly in some time-
FROND: Are you going to eat us?

 

He doesn't look nearly as scared as he probably should.

MINERVA: Oh! No, no-
MINERVA: Trust me, you're fine.
MINERVA: I prefer willing donors.

 

You tell yourself you didn't hear that.

EERIE: Cool, so-
EERIE: If one of us agreed to letting you slurp us up.
EERIE: You'd do it.
MINERVA: Probably, yes.

 

Eerie makes a face, going back to stabbing a twig into the dirt.

STRETCH: Look.

 

Everyone turns to you, shocked that you're speaking at all.

STRETCH: We did good today.
STRETCH: ...sleep will help us cool off.
FROND: Seconded.
FROND: Whether Minnie here's a night owl or not, the rest of us aren't.
MINERVA: Oh, that's! Quite the nickname.

 

She laughs into a wing.

MINERVA: Yes, that's a good idea.
MINERVA: I sincerely promise-

 

She crosses her heart with her tiny claws.

MINERVA: Not to commit vampiric acts.
MINERVA: ...without permission.
EERIE: Ugh.

 

The rhyhorn gets up, rolling her eyes.

EERIE: Good night, then.
EERIE: Enjoy being weird.
FROND: G'night!

 

You don't send her off.
Asshole.






You sling your backpack down, your newly pitched tent feeling like a welcome reprieve from the nightmare of a day you just had. Graduation, party matching, and-

Your skin crackles for a moment.

It felt unreal.

She didn't even get sick.




You, however, feel mildly ill, staring down at yourself.
Do you really think that would have gone well?
Like, for fuck's sake, you don't-
You don't even know how it would have gone-
For all you know, you could have seriously hurt her if you had taken it further, or-


No amount of self flagellation makes your fresh hard-on go down.


You're despicable.


You just met this woman. She-


There's the usual space between you and the ground as you sit with a groan, trying your usual. Counting to ten over and over, thinking about whatever unattractive things came immediately to mind,


It never worked.


You'd have to resign yourself to your fucking hand, the main reason why you need your space at night. All of the internet searches in the world told you that this is entirely normal for electabuzz who can't satiate their touch needs, but it pisses you off. This wasn't exactly something you could choose to change, but god, you'd give anything-


Before you could really start tearing into yourself, there's a soft knock on the tent flap.

MINERVA: Hello?
MINERVA: Stretch, was it?
STRETCH: shit

 

You slam your legs together and wince, regretting the force at which you just crushed your own junk.

STRETCH: Y-yes.
STRETCH: Yeah.
STRETCH: What. Iiiis it?

 

Your voice sounds stupid and strained.

MINERVA: Can I come in?

 

No. Nonononono no.
Noooo.
Absolutely not, not like this.
She'd see you all-

STRETCH: Y-yeah.

 

WHY


The flap unzips with more than a little fumbling, the golbat having to crawl inside.

MINERVA: Hi.
STRETCH: Hey.

 

Your throat is dry.




The length of her torso looks even more appealing in the light of your battery powered lantern, smooth enough to run your hands across without issue. Every time her mouth opens just the slightest bit, you wonder what it'd be like to-

She notices you staring, that warm smile returning to her face.

MINERVA: Did you...
MINERVA: Really enjoy that?
MINERVA: Earlier?

 

Blue glow flushes your cheeks.
Your breath hitches a little bit.
You try to think of anything but her foot pushing your head into the dirt.
The two of you seconds away from grinding against each other.


She's staring at you.
You close your eyes, trying to cross your legs inconspicuously and failing completely.

MINERVA: It's-
MINERVA: It's okay.
MINERVA: Really.
MINERVA: I did too.

 

You slowly peek with one eye, the other jolting open to match as it takes in the golbat.

She's closer to you now, examining you-

...but not the bulge between your legs like before, and instead your flustered, guilty face.

MINERVA: I know you don't mean any harm to me.
MINERVA: And, I meant it when I offered to help you out.
MINERVA: Frankly, I-
MINERVA: I've never had that as a reaction to my moveset!

 

Her soft laugh makes you feel like you need a cold shower. Immediately.

MINERVA: It's...validating, in a way I don't really get.
MINERVA: Is that odd?

 

You nod furiously-
-before realizing what you're agreeing with and shaking your head even more vigorously instead.

Another laugh escapes her, gritting your teeth to keep even a vague semblance of composure.

MINERVA: ....you're silly.
MINERVA: And...cute, in a way.
MINERVA: ....

 

She pauses, her own turn to look shy.

MINERVA: Truth be told, I-
MINERVA: I'm...nervous about your companions-
MINERVA: Or, at least-
MINERVA: .....

 

Her silence doesn't need a follow up.
You saw the way her eyes widened when Eerie took out the club.

STRETCH: I-

 

Your words feel heavy, fully aware that any ability to hide how much you want to continue earlier is long since gone. Any uncovered parts of your body are glowing and pulsing, you're sweating, hips trembling. No chance in hell you can cover it up.

STRETCH: I-I'll-
STRETCH: Keep-
STRETCH: You safe.

 

Her eyes are so gentle.

MINERVA: All I ask is for an escort out of the woods...
MINERVA: And...
MINERVA: If you can share your tent tonight.

 

Your skin crackles, only to give off an energy pulse as she traces her claws on your cheek.

She doesn't shy away, simply observing the strange vibration against her hand.

MINERVA: What that means is up to you....

 

You have given up on the idea of pretending you aren't turned on, the light coming off your body speaking louder than anything you could have said out loud.

MINERVA: I trust you.
MINERVA: You're my hero, after all.


 

......


You swallow.


 

---

With two new companions in hand, Stretch's adventure has gotten a lot more complicated. Can it survive a night in Viridian Forest in such a precarious situation? What does sharing its tent mean, especially with the risk of a certain rhyhorn finding out? Will Stretch be able to keep its cool?!

Suggest away, and tune in next time: to SPACE CASE!