Monthly Archives: April 2014

Organization and schedules and tropes, Oh my!

15 Tuesday Apr 2014

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I’ve had this writing blog for a few weeks now, so it seems like a good time to start formally organizing some details.  First up, I’ve started actually naming some of the ongoing stories I have, under their Category title.  Which means that TropeDay is now chilling under the new title, “Drums of War”.  I’ll probably go back and change older posts to match this title.  In the same vein, “Witching Time” is now also an ongoing story, though I’m not sure how regularly the updates will come.

Secondly, I’ve managed to actually create a buffer for the TropeDay/Drums of War story.  Which means that I’m going to actually set this one aside to regularly update.  Officially, I’m making Trope Day update on Tuesdays at midnight, but since there was already a story posted earlier, this week it’ll actually update tomorrow at midnight (In about 5 hours).  I’ll probably also stop adding commentary to the end of the stories as well.

Still trying to think up a better name for “A Pokemon Story”, but that’s another basket of worms.  I’ve also added the “Odds and Ends” category for stories that are unlikely to be continued.  It’s worth noting though, most of my stories become ongoing when someone tells me they want to hear more.  So if you’re disappointed that something is categorized “Odds and Ends”, well, let me know.

Witching Hour

15 Tuesday Apr 2014

Posted by in Stories, Witching Time

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Part 1 

Jillian breathed in the rich summer air as they walked along the river banks.

“The mint is so fragrant this year.”  She told Martha as a warm breeze played through the girls’ hair, tied back with colourful ribbons.

“It’s the cats.”  Martha stated.  “They’ve been hunting in the mint this year.  One of the vile things left a dead rat on my front doorstep last night.”  She shuddered in her cotton dress as she hugged her market basket.  “Eva says there’s more this year than there was last year.”

Jillian watched a black cat with a white star on its forehead dart across the path.  It paused in its journey, staring at Jillian with unblinking amber eyes.  A look of recognition seemed to cross the feline face.  Jillian felt a shiver run down her back as the cat disappeared into the thick weeds, leaving a cloud of gnats and the scent of mint in its wake.  Martha’s voice lowered to conspiratorial levels.

“Eva says they’re Hilda’s cats, and they came to town because Jeb killed that witch.”  She whispered to the wide-eyed girl.

“Jacob told me they didn’t find her.  That the hut was empty when they arrived, and they came home empty-handed.”  Jillian protested, glancing down the empty path as Martha flounced her hair.

“Well, I’m just glad she’s gone.  They must have done something that night, because he got better right away.”

“Who got better, girls?”  Asked a sweet voice behind them.  Hilda’s warm smile greeted them as they faced her in shock.  Jillian fought to keep the surprise out of her voice.

“Jeb’s boy.”  She stammered, “He had a fever a few weeks ago and everyone was worried, but he got better.”  Hilda’s smile deepened as the girl talked.

“I’m glad he recovered.  I must have been out of town at the time, visiting my sister in the highland village.”  She nodded to the girls as the wind pushed around her pale hair, “Well, I must be off.  Enjoy your day at market.”  The girls uttered a hasty goodbye as they hurried off down the road.  When Jillian looked back, there was nothing there except the drifting scent of mint and the buzz of a cicada.

Why do you tease them? Questioned the white-starred cat, watching from the stump of a tree that was washed away in last year’s flood.  The answer came from the black pointed cat beside her like the sound of the wind through the tall grass.

They will spread the word of my return.  Soon, I will go home.

Eight, Six, Four, Two

08 Tuesday Apr 2014

Posted by in Odds and Ends, Stories

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“I don’t know, John,” The man said as he flipped through the stack of paper on his desk. “This isn’t bad, but I’m not sure how the market will react.” John rung his hands anxiously, staring at the large novel that was the product of 4 months hard writing. He looked like he hadn’t eaten a proper meal the whole time, thin and nervous in a suit that looked like it fit a larger man.

“Mr. Cosure, please just give it a chance. I think… I mean, I hope, that with proper advertising, this might be a proper best seller.” Mr Cosure looked skeptical as John plunged ahead. “It’s the start of an epic 6 novel series, you see. The ending is left as a cliffhanger each time, to keep people talking about it, and there’s a consistent language that some characters speak that leads hints to what’s to come. I think that with proper advertising, that might generate some attention, maybe create a dedicated fan base that will help create some momentum and excitement. I just need some help, getting the proper attention.” He looked hopefully at the man behind the desk, who still bore the same stonefaced expression.

“I see. And when would the next book be available, do you think? The public doesn’t want another George R. R. Martin, leading them on for years at a time.” He steepled his fingers behind the desk over John’s beloved book. John bit his lip nervously.

“6 months?” He asked hesitately. Mr Cosure raised an eyebrow. “No! 4 months, I can have the next book on your desk in 4 months. I wrote the first in that time, after all.” He raised both eyebrows.

“Really? That is quite impressive, Mr Baloza.” He said, genuinely impressed. “Well, I will send this to the editor, and we will get this process rolling. Of course, I can’t offer you much until we see how it sells-” John practically squeaked.

“Sir, thank you very much, but I must insist on some upfront compensation.” He seemed to shrink beneath the publishers look. “You know, cost of living… Just to hold me over, for now…” Mr Cosure looked long suffering.

“Yes, yes, talk to Mrs Morrisson behind the secretary desk on your way out. She will cut you a cheque.” He stuck out his hand to the man, “I hope this is a start to a very profitable relationship.”

John collapsed into the car seat, and sighed a great breath of relief. A young girl with bouncing ponytails jumped into the backseat behind him.

“How’d it go, Daddy?” She asked happily.

“Pretty good, Diane, let’s go see your sister and I’ll tell you all about it.”

Several minutes later, the pair walked into a room together. The younger girl burst in like a whirl of energy, jumping onto a hospital bed where the older girl lay.

“Jean, Jean!” She cried, pulling off her backpack, “I picked up your homework today! Mrs Jones says they all miss you too.” Jean smiled and ruffled the younger girl’s hair with her spare hand.

“Thanks, Munchkin.” She said softly. “How’d the meeting with the publisher go, Daddy?” He smiled and stroked her hair.

“They’re going to publish our story, Kiddo.” He told her. “He really liked your secret language.”

“I thought I overheard Grandma say that it would help pay for everything.” She said, gesturing towards the machines behind her.

“Hey now, you’re too young to worry about money.” John teased her, “You worry about that homework, and when you’re done, we’ll write more about the story of Jean and Diane, intrepid explorers in the land of Ashural.”

Drums of War #3 – Confrontation

07 Monday Apr 2014

Posted by in Stories, The Drums of War

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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Keita brushed away Turgis’s concern without a glance towards the young man rejoining the table.

“No, old man, I will tell you precisely how I intend to retake my people’s holy lands. I will gather an army of my people’s finest warriors, wherever they may be scattered across the plains. I will tell them that this supposed kingdom of justice has stolen our lands and defiled our sacred rituals when our backs were turned. And with them, I will raze this village and it’s people to ashes, and sanctify the lands with their blood.” She scowled at the older man until a heavy hand shook table, breaking the uneasy silence. Lucien loomed over the table.

“Do you mean to tell me that you will kill my citizens for settling a new location under my father’s orders?” His voice was a low growl that rumbled in the unnatural hush of the tavern. A few curious heads had began to turn towards the angry youth in the back corner. Turgis nodded to them and most turned back to their conversations and the music which had begun to play again, but some were still watching when the woman with the dark cloak quickly stood herself with another heavy thunk, staring down the blonde man. Only Turgis saw the glint of her hunting knife, buried in the oak table.

“Yes, boy prince, I mean precisely that.” She hissed back at him. Turgis stood quickly himself, laying one hand atop Keita’s, the knife pinned to the table below, and the other on Lucien’s shoulder.

“Whoa, let’s rein this in a bit, you two. Surely you don’t mean to start a fight in-”

“Shut up, Turgis.” Lucien snapped, not taking his eyes off Keita, “You are not my mentor anymore.” Keita merely glowered at Turgis, conveying the same message in her body language before returning the stare at Lucien. Turgis rolled his eyes and after a quick twist with his wrist, walked away towards the bar, pocketing the small hunting knife and leaving the two youths to glower at each other.

“That looks like it’s about to turn ugly.” The barkeep said as Turgis walked up close to the bar.

“Any moment now.” Turgis replied quietly, as a loud crash boomed behind him. Without looking back, he pulled a handful of gold coins out of his pocket and placed them on the counter. “I assume this is enough to tell the Wardens this was a barfight between two drunk locals.” The barkeep’s eyes glittered at the gold, it was more than he’d make in a month. His eyes flicked back to the two fighters behind the grizzled veteran, trying not to look too eager.

“Only if you can clear them out before the Wardens arrive themselves. And I cannot speak for the patrons.” Turgis nodded.

“That’ll do.” He flicked the small knife behind the counter, adding an extra coin to the pile. “For the mug.” He said with a wink, grabbing one of the bar patron’s mug of ale off the counter beside him. The patron was too engrossed with the spectacle at the back of the tavern to notice.

He walked back towards the two fighters, assessing the damage. The table was on it’s side, pushed to the side of the clearing the other patrons had made around the two fighters. Keita crouched in the back corner, taking in everyone at a glance. As he watched, one of the tavern patrons inched closer to her, jostled by encroaching crowd, only to retreat as she hissed fiercely at him. There was a small smear of blood near her mouth.

Lucien by contrast appeared deadly calm. His back to the crowd, his hands up and feet firmly planted, Turgis felt a moment of pride before he brought the mug crashing into Lucien’s temple. The boy crumbled to the floor in a heap. Keita lunged forward towards him, only to be intercepted by Turgis grappling her to the floor. The two grappled, Keita struggling violently against the older man, but eventually his greater strength and size won out, leaving her pinned firmly to the floor.

“Stop struggling.” He instructed. Lucien came to with a groan, struggling to bring himself upright. “And you boy, keep your ass on the ground or so help me, I will let this hellcat kill you and report it as a victory.” Lucien sat heavily on the ground, dimly probing his throbbing temple. “Now then,” Turgis whispered to the barbarian he had pinned beneath him, “I’m assuming you don’t know much about Cetrius, being from out of town and all. Let me assure you, the druids don’t take very kindly to out-of-towners bringing the war into their town. If you would like any chance at getting out of here alive and reclaiming your ancestral grounds, you will get up and follow me out of here without a fight. Agreed?” The girl’s grey eyes blazed with a hidden anger.

“Agreed.” Turgis rose to his feet smoothly, walking over to pull the dazed boy to his feet. He draped Lucien’s arm over his shoulders and half dragged him to the door as Keita dusted herself off and followed behind, pulling up her hood as soon as they stepped out into the drizzling rain.

“Where is your coachman, Luc?” Turgis asked once the tavern was well behind them.

“Probably at Trita’s Palace still.” He muttered, still dazed. “Did you have to hit me so hard?”

“I was hoping to knock some sense into your thick skull.” He replied affably as they approached the seedy location. The coachman stood beneath a small awning, pipe in hand as they approached. “Ho, Curt!” He called out, “The prince seems a little down in the cups tonight. I think it’s time to head back to Avesta tonight.”

As Curt climbed to the front of the coach, he tipped his hat towards Turgis. “You’re a good man, Turgis. Shame we had to lose you to the enemy.”

“I promised his father I’d watch out for him.” Turgis said of the boy. “And I am a man of my word.” He waved as the two drove off into the night, then turned to the sulking girl. “As for you, I’d like to help you achieve your destiny.” The girl broke out of her sulk abruptly.

“Would that not break your promise?” She asked, eyes flashing with suspicion. Turgis shrugged.

“My oath to my King supersedes that promise. But here, I fear the Druid’s law more than the King’s wrath.” He smiled smugly, “And I made no promise to watch out for the prince’s citizens.”

To be continued…

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A Pokemon Story – Part 4

05 Saturday Apr 2014

Posted by in Established Universe, Pokemon, Stories

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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

“Do you really think this is going to work?”  Frank asked me as we stood in the forest near a small shelter.  It was nothing special, a quick roof and three walls, with a hinged gate and hay floor, but hopefully it was enough.  More importantly, it was on our land, right near the cottage, and far from any major cities.  I pulled out Sawsbuck’s pokeball.  Katie, sitting beside me, sniffed at the ball curiously as I did so, her pale lavender ears twitching.

“I hope so.  We couldn’t really keep him in the city.”  I said as I let out the large deer pokemon.   He came out in a burst of light, and immediately started nuzzling me.  “Alright, alright,” I told the questing nose, producing an apple from my backpack.  “Here you go, Caesar.”   I immediately had to dodge his antlers as he bent to eat the apple.  Now in full bloom, his antlers were covered in soft velvet and delicate pink flowers.  I pet his head awkwardly.

“Alright, come here then,”  I said, walking towards the shelter with the nearly-gone apple.  He followed me obediently, even after the apple was gone.  “This is a shelter for you.”  I explained,  “We’re going to leave you up here so you don’t have to stay in your pokeball all the time.”  The look on his face immediately made me feel guilty.  I was never quite sure how much the pokemon understood, but they certainly seemed to understand a lot.

“Don’t look at me like that!  This is a much better spot for you.”  I said defensively.  “And we’ll come visit often.  But up here you have space to roam.”  Caesar nuzzled my shoulder, still looking sad.  I sighed.  We had spent the last 6 weeks teaching him to come when we whistled, but clearly I hadn’t thought through my clever plan that well.  I rubbed his head just behind the antlers.  “Well, we aren’t going to leave until tomorrow, maybe you’ll warm up to the idea.”

“Let’s go walk around the property.”  I suggested to my husband, walking back over to him and Katie.  Caesar followed behind me as we set off walking.

“Sure.”  He said, letting Jewel out of her pokeball too.  Jewel stretched her black and gold limbs, until she spotted Caesar following behind us.  She reared back, a low growl escaping as she stared him down.  The Sawsbuck snorted once, then proceeded to ignore the small Umbreon’s posturing.  Frank laughed and roughly mussed up her fur.  “Does she do that every time?”  He asked as she immediately began grooming herself.

“You know Jewel, simultaneously aggressive and terrified of everything.”  I pet the top of her head until she snapped around to try and bite me, snatching back my scarred hand with hard-earned reflexes.  “Stop that!  We’re going for a walk.  If you don’t behave, we’ll stick you in the cottage until we get back.”  Jewel glowered at me, but fell in beside Katie as we set off trail-blazing through the property.

“So, what’s with the sudden obsession with Pokemon, Alex?”  Frank asked as we walked along through the forest.  Thoughts ran through my head.  How does one explain that they just woke up one day and found themselves in a world that rightfully belonged in a videogame?  And that no one else seemed to find the shift strange?  I bit my lip as I tried to think of ways to avoid this.

“Well…  I like outdoors stuff…  And I need to find something to do when I’m not working, right?”  Frank looked suspicious.  “And…  I thought it’d be fun to try something new.  Google is hiring a new Pokemon Master this week.”  I said, trying to sound convincing.  He still looked unconvinced.  I blushed and stared straight ahead.  “Look, if I explain, do you promise you won’t think I’m crazy or something?”

“Of course not.”  I was always impressed at his ability to not call me crazy when I confessed to things I definitely found crazy.  No turning back now.

“A few weeks back, I sorta, kinda I woke up firmly believing that pokemon only existed in games.  And then Jewel bit me and was an Umbreon.”  I hesitated for a moment.  “I dunno, maybe it was just a really vivid dream, but I still feeling like pokemon shouldn’t really exist.”  I looked at him, not sure what I expected to see.  He mostly just looked confused.

“I’m not sure I get it.  Did we just, not have Jewel and Katie?”

“No, we had them, they were just cats.  Like, Persian, only smaller.  And without the coin.”  Frank still looked confused.

“I don’t get it.  You dreamed they were cats, and now you think they’re supposed to cats?”

“Yeah.  Like, they wasn’t any pokemon at all.  Just animals.”

“But if all the pokemon didn’t exist, why were there cats still?”  I frowned slightly.

“Still?  You mean, there’s still cats?”

“Yeah.  Do you really not remember”  He looked a little worried now.  I smiled slightly.

“I guess it’s because given the choice between a pet Eevee or a pet cat, I’d take a pet Eevee.  I’ve always really loved Eevee.”  I looked behind me at the crew of pokemon following us.  “I’ve always really loved pokemon.  Maybe one day I’ll get a cat though.”

“Not unless we get a bigger house.  I wonder why you had cats in your dream and not Eevees.”  Frank mused.

“Can you put a cat in a pokeball?  I bet that has something to do with it.”

“No, but there’s got to be more to it than that!  Wikipedia probably knows the difference between a pokemon and an animal.  I bet it’s something to do with genes.”  I smiled, and grabbed his hand in mine.

“Thanks for not thinking I’m crazy.”  He gave my hand a little squeeze.

“I dunno, I think there was something about this in our vows.”

“Hey, you’re already here, vow fulfilled!”  I said defensively.  He snorted, looking back at the Espeon and Umbreon following us, and the Sawsbuck following them.

“I’m not sure this was my first choice of magical lands.”  I squeezed his hand back.

“Well, maybe next time one of us wakes up in a videogame, it’ll be you in Dwarf Fortress.”

“Ooo, or maybe the Warhammer universe!”  He started singing a song about dwarves as we walked through the muddy forest, three pokemon in tow.

Witching Time

04 Friday Apr 2014

Posted by in Stories, Witching Time

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They feared her in the town below. Hilda knew this, as she could see the fear on their faces when she went into town to buy bread. Her bread never rose, it would always fall in the centre. Hilda suspected this was because the air wasn’t as damp up here than it was in the valley, but she knew what they thought in the village. She could hear their answer whispered behind closed shutters and concealing hands. Witch, they’d whisper, hiding their children behind their aprons.

Witch. She could hear it louder today as she walked through the village to buy some mint. It shrivelled and blackened near her home, shaded beneath the dense cedar trees and old pines, and the feral cats ate what survived. It preferred the sunny shores of the river that ran through the village, where it grew too plentiful even for the rats to eat. She frowned slightly at the farmer in the market, who recoiled from her coins as if they might poison him. “No charge for the lovely lady.” He insisted. “How could I charge for something so plentiful?” But his eyes spoke louder than his words. Witch.

That night they came to her house. The cats scurried away in their wake. Not the one or two visitors who came to her dead of night, cloaks held close to ward away prying eyes, begging for favours, but instead a small posse of men, wielding torches and makeshift weapons. One stepped forward to hammer the cottage door with his massive hand. “Come out Hilda! The children are sickening!” The door remained closed and dark. He beat the door again. “Get out here, girl! You’ll undo this curse you placed us under!” Still no answer was forthcoming. He beckoned the men closer as he hammered again. “Last chance, Witch! Come out or we’ll see you burned!”

The door caved easily beneath his boot as the men poured into the small cottage. They cast about for their prey in the single room, eyes alighting upon the empty bed, the cold hearth. Not a soul to be found but for the ones they brought with them. Feline eyes watched them leave the room from the roof. Such fear. Hilda thought as she watched them head back to town empty handed, the moonlight reflecting off long fur. They will never understand.

Man was such easy prey, these men did not look back once on their hike back to town. But of course, they need not fear the dark with their torches burning brightly, and most certainly did not fear the black-pointed cat that followed their trail, eyes burning brightly in the moonlight. As the men slipped away quietly to their houses, torches near extinguished, Hilda shadowed Jeb to his home. He was the initiator to tonight’s events, he was the one who stepped forward, and he was the one whose eyes told a different story. Anger, of course. And fear, as always, but not of Hilda. No, his eyes spoke of fear of loss. He was the one whose child had sickened.

The houses in town were built strong and large, meant to last generations. As Jeb entered the home, Hilda slipped through a window left open. The concerned voice of his wife drifted down the hallway, mixed with the disappointment in Jeb’s, but Hilda paid them no mind as she slipped into the child’s room. The boy coughed weakly as she jumped to his bed, her tail twitching. His eyes fluttered open, bright with fever as he reached towards the cat, small hand feebly petting the long soft fur. She purred reassuringly as she lay beside him, licking his forehead which tasted of salt, until the boy fell back asleep.

A pair of footstep fell through the house as the witch lay by the boy, ending with a creaking door. Quiet reassurances filtered through the thin walls, whispered under covers in the neighbouring room, before quiet fell upon the house. With a stretch, the cat padded softly through the house towards the kitchen. Tomorrow’s stew already simmered over the low fire as her feline nose sniffed, questing for the scents of rot and decay. An old leg of lamb was found, showing fresh cuts from yesterday’s meal, and the moonlight revealed to her what human eyes may miss, small footprints on the packed dirt floor as they led to a crack in the wall.

As the fire crackled beneath the old black pot, Hilda stood in the kitchen, a cat no longer, and considered. The leg of lamb disappeared into an apron pocket, to be replaced by two heads of garlic, and a large sprig of oregano and basil for the stew. From a different pocket, she produced the mint she’d bought at the market, now slightly crushed. Deftly wrapping it in a rag, it was packed in the crack, a box of potatoes wedged in front. Pleased with her work, she slipped out the back, the light of the full moon reflecting off flaxen hair. From the shadows of the house strolled a new cat, long haired and black as night, save for a white star on her forehead. Hilda knelt to greet her.

“Hello, Mother.” She whispered, brandishing the rotten lamb. “The rats have grown bold in my village again.” She tossed the lamb towards the river, where it landed in the tall weeds, the scent of mint rising off the ground. Bring the coven. Whispered as she disappeared into the grasses after it, black pointed tail a-swish. We will teach them to fear the scent of mint again.

read more…

A Pokemon Story – Part 3

02 Wednesday Apr 2014

Posted by in Established Universe, Pokemon, Stories

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Part 2

I sat in the field, holding the Sawsbuck’s pokeball in my hands. My friend Steve sat beside me as we looked out onto the melting snow.

“So, you really think you can help me tame this Sawsbuck? It was sort of attacking me when I caught it, and I haven’t let it out since.” He laughed and tossed out a pokeball, which released a small, bouncing green pokemon that looked like it was encased in a bubble.

“If I can teach Saccharomyces to produce beer, I think I can help you stop a deer from attacking.” I stared at the Duosion.

“How did you teach him to produce beer?”

“Well, when they breed with an absence of oxygen, they create fermentation, so I had this sexy orgy of-“

“Nevermind, that’s enough.” I said, cutting him off. “Can Sacchar… whatever… stop this guy from charging? I brought Katie along too, just in case.”

“He shouldn’t attack us. I hope, at least.”

“You hope? I thought you’d caught wild pokemon before?” I twisted the ball in my hands. According to the internet, you could leave pokemon in there indefinitely, but it seemed a little cruel to me. I’d only caught the Sawsbuck yesterday and had figured I should let him out before he got really mad.

“Technically, I caught Saccharomyces wild, but it was in the lab, and she was young and friendly. I think she just wanted someone to take care of her. Most people don’t just go catching wild ones.”

“S’not my fault, he was trying to kill me!” Steve laughed.

“Alright, stop stalling, let’s see this beast.” I sighed and got to my feet, brushing the wet snow of my rear. As an extra precaution, I let Katie out of her pokeball too.

“Are you going to let Jewel out too?” Steve asked, getting to his feet. My fingers brushed her pokeball.

 

 

A Pokemon Story – Part 2

01 Tuesday Apr 2014

Posted by in Established Universe, Pokemon, Stories

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Part 1

Last night when I went to bed, my life was spinning it’s wheels. No job, no plan, just sitting around hoping my cards would change. But today when I woke up, everything was different. Today when I woke up, my cats were pokemon, and according to my husband, that was normal. So today, things were going to change.

I quickly tossed on some clothes and headed towards the kitchen. Jewel and Katie nearly bowled me over trying to race me up the stairs. “Girls, calm down!” I said, petting Katie’s between her tall, lavender ears, just above the jewel on her forehead. “I’m not used to you guys being so tall.” Jewel, same as always, despite being turned into an Umbreon, just meowed at me to hurry up and put down some food. I ate an apple while the two tore into their food, then got curious and checked out my fish tank.

“Huh…” Well, they weren’t the same fish, that was for sure, but they didn’t look like any pokemon I knew of. Guess not everything was the same as the games. I decided it was time to turn to the internet for some quick research.

Some time later, Jewel strolled up at the computer, licking her lips and meowing. Still my talkative little one. “Come here, Jewel.” I said, palming her pokeball, “We’re going to see if we can help earn our keep.”

Katie was easy enough to round up, she came running when she heard the door open. She always had loved to go outside. She followed me in step as we headed to the meadow nearby. It was muddy, and snowdrifts still covered heaps of matted down winter grass, but it should still work. Katie began wandering immediately into it and I followed her. She still had the instincts of a cat, it seemed, but I wasn’t really sure what we were looking for.

A patch of grass wiggled off in the corner of my eye and Katie pounced on it faster than I could turn around. When I looked, a massive rat stood in front of her, with teeth as long as my fingers.

“Gah!!” I yelled, glancing around to see if anyone had spotted my reaction to my first live Raticate. “I mean… Um, Katie! Tackle it!” The commands came easier after that. I’d had years of experience, playing with cartoon versions safely behind a little glass screen. But when the Raticate stopped moving, I had my first glimpse of reality as Katie went to bite it’s head off.

“Katie! No!” I grabbed her by the scruff of her neck, hauling her off the fallen prey. She looked at me confusedly as I checked if the Raticate was still moving. Still breathing. Guess it had just fainted. I hauled Katie away a safe distance, then let Jewel out of her pokeball too. The two stared at me curiously, as if to ask “Now what?”

“Now… I don’t know girls. Maybe I’m just not violent enough to get into pokemon training. Let’s just go home.” We headed back, detouring along the spring-swollen river. Everything was covered in a layer of ice, thanks to the frequent thaws and snow squalls of the past week, but it was starting to look like spring was winning again. I bent over to pick up a stone, planning on breaking the layer of ice still hanging over the river, when I noticed Katie and Jewel’s ears were both upright, and both of them were staring at a point just behind me.

I turned slowly to see a majestic sight. A tall buck stood behind me, with a massive rack of antlers. His fur was tufted white about his neck, but I could see small pink flower buds covering his antlers, ready to bloom. My breath caught in my throat. I was new to this whole pokemon thing, but moose were dangerous, especially in spring. I slowly took a step backwards, hoping to show I was no threat.

The moose snorted and lowered his antlers, pawing the ground. Well fuck, that was clear body language. I started looking about for somewhere to run, when a blur of black and gold hit the Sawsbuck in the side.

“Jewel!” I cried, worried. The Sawsbuck reared, tossing her off. He turned to charge her, but stopped dead in his tracks, a glowing wall in front of Jewel. I looked beside me to see the jewel on Katie’s forehead glowing brightly. Jewel charged again, biting at the Sawsbuck’s legs and rear. “Good girls! Keep it up!” I quickly dove into my backpack, hunting for something to help. I needed some way to end this fight before the Sawsbuck got hurt, or worse, my babies. My hands closed around a spare pokeball. Perfect! Just one shot though, better make it count.

As I watched, Jewel bounced about the buck, harrying it’s flank like she’d done it all her life. Perhaps she had, given the way she chased Katie about the house at home. The Sawsbuck turned to chase her, stumbling slightly on his rear leg. That was my chance. I threw the pokeball hard, just as Katie let off a flash of light that left the buck disoriented. When the light faded from my eyes, I saw the pokeball on the ground as it shook once, then stood still with a click. I sighed a breath of relief.

“Okay girls, now we’re really going home.”

Back home, my husband was less than impressed with my conquest.

“Where are we going to keep a Sawsbuck? We don’t even have a backyard in this apartment.” He asked, staring at the pokeball in my hand.

“Well, I was thinking about that.” I said, “You know that property we bought up north?” He grunted in agreement. “How would you feel about starting our own Pokemon petting zoo?”

 Part 3