#turns out. that's one evolutionary line. whoops!

[front-facing-pokemon]

[adobe-outdesign]

Reviews of All Scrapped Spaceword Betas

Exactly what it says in the title. This is also for my reference, as I might redesign some of these later for funsies. 

I’m only including Pokemon that were 100% scrapped (we’re not here to argue what might have become what) and aren’t evos/pre-evos of existing Pokemon. Also, I’m using the English fan-translations for the names because I don’t speak Japanese.

Flambear/Volbear/Dynabear

Our original fire starter, and yeah, I can see why this was scrapped. For starters (heh), it looks more like a rodent that evolves into a lion than anything resembling a bear. And secondly... it doesn’t really have a clear focus, nor a memorable design. It’s just kind of a rodent-bear thing with flames tacked onto it. 

The best Pokes usually have a "catch” to them, and these guys lack that. For example, this got replaced by Cyndaquil, which has the concept of flaming spikes that form out of its back. That’s memorable. This, well, isn’t.

Possible reason for being scrapped: Lack of focus/interesting design

Pokes to fill the void: Teddiursa and Ursaring are probably the closest in terms of being bears. Something about it also reminds me of Growlithe/Arcanine, probably because it’s a fluffy fire thing that evolves into a bigger fluffy fire thing with a mane and black markings.

Cruz/Aqua/Aquaria

This has the same problem as the Flambear line, just less extreme. It’s okay, being a little plesiosaur that evolves into a bigger plesiosaur, but it also lacks an interesting catch to it. The pearls are maybe something, but they’re not really emphasized, just kind of tacked on. Plus Dragonair kind of has the crystal neck ornaments on lock. And the horn. And the underbelly. And the water theme...

Whoops.

I definitely wouldn’t be opposed to a plesiosaur water starter in the future, but it would probably have to be completely redesigned.

Possible reason for being scrapped: Lack of focus/interesting design; too similar to Dragonair

Pokes to fill the void: Dragonair, as mentioned above. If you want a plesiosaur, Lapras is always a thing.

Putting the rest under the cut for length.

Sunmola1/Anchorage/Grotess

This is one of the most chaotic beta evolutions out there, aside from beta Girafarig. I can see the resemblance between Sunmola1 and Anchorage to some extent--counter-shaded blue fish with two fins and a short body--but the anchor part of the evolution comes out of nowhere. Then it sporadically turns into a gulper eel, which has nothing to do with the previous two evolutions at all.

I’ve heard some people suggest that Sunmola1 basically gets dragged into the depths and turns into a deep-sea creature due to its anchor, which is a fantastic idea. However, if that’s what they were going for here it’s not really clear, and I think it could be executed much better.

Individually, Sumola1 is a little plain. Not terrible, but I think they could do something more interesting with the little head thing. Anchorage is memorable, but there’s something very un-Pokemonish about it. I think it’s just the fact that it’s basically cut in half--I keep expecting the backsprite to show its organs or something. Grotess is also a bit too plain.

It’s also worth noting that at some point, this was the evolutionary line, which is more consistent but much less interesting (save for the middle evo’s eyes, which are pretty great).

Possible reason for being scrapped: Lack of evolutionary consistency; some designs plain or not very fitting for Pokemon

Pokes to fill the void: Alomomola is a sunfish Pokemon. Sharpedo is a shark crossed with an object, and Grotess almost certainly became Huntail and Gorebyss.

Rinring/Bellboyant

These two... are pretty good. They have a simple catch--black cats with bells--and the designs are nicely executed and memorable.

If I had one complaint, it’s that they maybe seems a tad unfocused in the backend of things. They’re dark types, but have a bunch of “cutesy” moves, and it’s not clear why’d they be dark apart from being black cats. They seem to have a magical girl vibe (Bellboyant looks a bit like Luna from Sailor Moon, which is probably not a coincidence), which also has nothing to do with the bells or the dark theme. I do think that the designs themselves are fine though, and that if you just focused on the sound concept a hair more you’d have a pretty great Pokemon.

Possible reason for being scrapped: Not entirely sure, these definitely would’ve been popular. Might’ve just been a balancing thing, or it lost the dev popularity contest. 

Pokes to fill the void: Skitty kind of has the same vibe as Rinring. They also remind me a bit of the Meowth line, being cat Pokemon with metal attached to them. The Purrloin line takes over the “dark-type cat” aspect.

Bomseel

I’m torn on this one. On the one hand, it’s a very plain looking Pokemon. The idea of it balancing a fireball/bomb on its nose instead of a ball is clever and memorable enough... except that it’s dependent on it being on that pose. It can’t balance that 24/7, and once it stops all you’re left with is a plain sea lion with dark points.

However, it’s fire/water. The only fire/water we have right now is a legendary, so it would be sweet to have one that’s just a regular poke. So it’s not that the concept itself is bad, using a water-based animal and adding a fire type; it’s just more that the execution is lackluster. Give this guy a hook not related to the fireball and make the seal itself more interesting and I think you’d have something here.

Possible reason for being scrapped: Lack of interesting design

Pokes to fill the void: Volcanion is our only fire/water Pokemon for now. In terms of seals/sea lions with a circus theme, Popplio is a decent enough match.

Tigrette/Electiger

Someone at Gamefreak hates tigerballs, because this line was planned for Gen 1, scrapped, then planned for Gen 2 and scrapped again. Which is strange, because while it’s not the best design it’s not bad either. It’s very very cute, and could definitely find an audience.

However, I’m not really sure what the premise is here. If it’s based on tiger clay bells, then it doesn’t really play into the bell theme much at all. And if it’s not... why is it so round? It’s not that the roundness is bad, but it would usually form the hook for this Pokemon, like it collects static electricity in its fur that makes it puff out or something. Maybe some dex descriptions would’ve made this clearer, who knows.

Also, Electiger is literally the exact same design as Tigrette, just bigger. It would either need a completely new final evolution or would need to show up as a single evo. 

While that sounds harsh, I do really like this design. Fix the evo, figure out/build on the hook of it being round or bell like, and maybe refine the markings a touch and it would be pretty perfect.

Possible reason for being scrapped: Not sure. Might’ve been too similar to Pikachu (both being yellow round electric type Pokemon with zig-zag tails, and og fat Pikachu was also very round). The need to rework the evolution also might’ve turned GameFreak off of it.

Pokes to fill the void: Spheal and Rowlet are both pleasantly round. Pikachu is cute and electric themed in a similar way. In terms of tigers, Raikou is also electric-type. The exact way the stripes are done here is also very similar to Litten.

Kurstraw/Pangshi

GameFreak. GameFreak, you are telling me that we almost had a voodoo-doll Pokemon based off of Ushi-no-Toki-Mairi that evolves into a fucking jiangshi panda?? You are killing me here.

A few interesting things to note here:

Kurstraw evolves at level 1. How? Why? No idea. It could just be a placeholder, but...

The fact that Kurstraw was set to have Curse as its signature move (then called “nail”) and that it only learned this move at level 100 makes it evolving at level 1 seem intentional.

To make things more confusing, it almost seems like (and this is speculation on my part) GameFreak’s intention was to encourage players to not evolve this thing. Stats are comparable, Kurstraw only gets its signature move if you level it up to where it can’t evolve, and Kurstraw has the better moveset (getting frigging destiny bond at lv. 16, while Pangshi gets... splash (which. makes more sense when you consider it’s called “hop” in Japan but it’s still useless). If that was what they were aiming for, then that’s a really unique mechanic that would really make this poke stand out.

Design wise, Kurstraw is... well, it’s a doll with a nail rammed through it. Nothing wrong with that, but it’s not very Pokemon-ish. Meanwhile, Pangshi is maybe a little too much like a Jianshi rather than being reminiscent of one, right down to the little hat. The pose, fangs, and panda colors (which resemble Jiangshi mandarin robes) are more than enough to get the hook across.

What I really love about these two are the expressions. They are just like, so dissonantly happy. Kurstraw is literally like

and Pangshi has the dead-eyed thousand-yard stare of Espurr, except unlike Espurr it looks completely and utter deranged. It looks like if this Pokemon ended up in Mystery Dungeon, it would respond to every question with “my favorite color is blood”. Amazing.

Possible reason for being scrapped: I think these two might’ve been scrapped just because they were too scary. I mean, it’s a voodoo doll impaled on a giant nail that evolves into a literal actual corpse. The implied violence was probably just a bit much for GameFreak.

The reason I think this is, beside the fact that they have fairly solid designs, good hooks, and all of their stats and moves in place, most beta Pokemon have had their premises revisited at some point. But we’ve really never gotten a voodoo doll Pokemon since this, and we definitely haven’t gotten any jiangshi Pokemon either, which suggests the problem lied in the very concept rather than the execution.

Pokes to fill the void: People say that Kurstraw was reworked into Banette, but if anyone Pokemon resembles it to be, it would actually be Mimikyu. They both have cloth bodies with drawn-on smiley faces that resemble something cuter than them and they both want to curse you for existing.

For Pangshi... well, there’s Pancham if you’re looking for tiny pandas. If you’re after a jiangshi though, you’re out of luck.

Wolfman/Warwolf

This Pokemon has a great hook. I mean, a Pokemon that wears a pelt that transforms it into a werewolf? Hell yeah. Not to mention it might be a reference to an obscure Nordic tale about people donning wolf pelts to turn into wolves for ten days.

Design wise, it... well, Wolfman looks almost exactly like Venonat. I’m not the only one who sees this, right?

That aside, I think the idea could be played up a little more. Wolfman is fine, save for its Venonat-ishness, but Warwolf doesn’t do much for me, basically just being a larger version with claws and fangs. If the idea is that it turns into a werewolf by wearing the pelt, what if its evolution looked somewhat like a wolf? Or better yet, the actually body of the thing changes to fill the wolf skin more, so it looks like its a part of it? That would really elevate this Pokemon to a new level.

Possible reason for being scrapped: I’d guess that it’s the same problem as Kurstraw and Pangshi--too scary. I mean, that is a dead pelt of some kind, which means that it killed and skinned some kind of Pokemon, and that’s not getting into questions of what Pokemon they got that from.

It’s also worth noting that when we did finally get a werewolf Pokemon via Lycanroc, it was minus the pelt concept.

Pokes to fill the void: Lycanroc as our werewolf Pokemon. In terms of design, Venonat is very similar as noted above. And something about it really reminds me of Snorunt, being little critters with glowing eyes that wear a cloak of some kind and live in the cold (this line was ice-type).

[aka-irish]

Apex Legends: The Top Predator Part 4. Pinnacle

Inside a new location of the Shadow Base, Doctor Traxler and Colonel Braxton stand in front of a tank with their large muscular man of a creation floats in a tank, a large scar visible upon his chest. “Colonel Braxton...” states Traxler plainly. “I think it’s time we make our move.” “I concur, Doctor. I think the Legends have had enough time to rest, and our experiment has had enough to grow” replies the Colonel back. “Shall I make the arrangements?” questions Traxler. Braxtion nods. “Do what you must, now is the time for us to stand in the light. The Syndicate...Hammond..The IMC...and the Legends won’t stand a chance” Traxler adjusts his glasses before heading out of the room, the loud sound of large, metallic doors grinding open as he makes his exit. 

“Bloody hell, mates! That was one rippa of a fight. 6 bloody jokers down and that calls for a nice, cold one” The grizzled Salvonian leans himself slowly down in the chair at Mirage’s bar. “Hey, I got 8, I think that means you’re buying the first round, duh” Valkyrie, the newest legend and daughter of the infamous Apex Predator, Viper, boasts. “Ugh..I’m hungry. Yo, Mirage! You have any food in here?” she yells out to the Trickster Barkeep.  “Ughhh” he groans out as he lays face first on the counter with an ice pack on his head. Fuze rocks forward in his chair “maybe ya shouldn’t have rocketed him headfirst into Pathfinder, hehehe” he chuckles. Kairi shrugs “whoops”. “Welp..since ya said first round was on me” Fuze stands up and hops the counter of the bar, reaches down and grabs a couple of glasses. He pours himself some beer in both of them before looking down at the most likely concussed Mirage. Fuze pats him on the shoulder “Thanks, mate..this one’s on the house” he chuckles again. He hops back over and hands Kairi her beer and raises his “Cheers!” he exclaims..jovial as ever. “Cheers!” Kairi gleefully chides back as they clank their glasses and begin chugging their frothy beverages. Amidst the chugging, the rest of the legends clamor into the bar after the day’s game, Mirage still face down completely out of it. When the Legends find their seats the lights in the bar begin to flicker. “Aye, Mirage, when was tha last time you paid tha electric bill?” jokes Lifeline. “Ughhh”. The lights shut off for a moment and turn back, but when they do a withered yet smiling face can be seen on the monitors. 

“Greetings, citizens of Solace. My name is Doctor Eugene Traxler. I am the head scientist of a special organization called Pinnacle. We are an off-sect group made of former military, special forces, and various minds from all over the galaxy with a common goal, to succeed in forcing the survival of the human race by accelerating evolution” states the doctor plainly. He puts a finger to his glasses and raises them back to his nose. “You see, every major company, every major organization has done nothing for this world except, what, murder? Steal? Build genocidal robots and weapons on a scale that spans a solar system? Even plan the obliteration of entire planets. Hammond Robotics. The Syndicate. The IMC, and even the APEX Predators and Legends. You contribute nothing except bloodshed in the guise of helping under bloodsport to further line the pockets of the already rich. It has made this universe stagnant, the evolutionary leaps that mankind was once striving towards is nothing but a funnel for war and mindless entertainment. So we will be that spark that lights the keg for the next step in evolution. And in order to do that we unfortunately have had to make a weapon of our own.” The doctor turns and directs an arm at the muscle bound creature of a man floating in the tank. “Meet Darwin. A fitting name isn’t it?” he mockingly asks. “This is our first step in the contribution to creating the perfect being, one that even your precious legends won’t be able to stop. We have one request...fight our creation, Legends. That is all. However, if you refuse, we have bombs aimed multiple cities around the entirety of Solace filled with our oh so familiar nanite spores ready to cause entire cities to perish due to cardiac arrest.” The doctor turns his full body back to the camera. “You have one hour to decide, Legends. You will drop in King’s Canyon for a fight. We will stoop to your level to show you that none of this...celebration of glamourizing violence and bloodshed is necessary to continue and will do nothing but produce more troglodytes.” The doctor looks at his watch...”well that’s enough villainous monologuing for now. We expect to see you in the ring, Legends. If not...I really hope you made peace with your demons..hundreds of thousands of deaths on your hands. Tik tok.” The screen fades back to normal. 

A fist slams against the table as drinks spill from the quake of rattling glass and wood. “WE NEED TO END THIS NOW!!” screams Loba. “Calm down, Andrade. We need to come at this as tactful as possible. We have no idea what this Pinnacle creation can do” says Anita, trying to remain as level headed as possible. “CALM DOWN? HOW CAN I CALM DOWN, ANITA!? THESE SICK BASTARDS WERE INSIDE ME, PLAYING WITH MY ACTUAL HEART! THEY ALMOST KILLED ME..WRAITH..RAMPART AND ELLIOT!! YOU WANT ME TO CALM DOWN!?” Bangalore backs off for a second. “Tck. I know you’re angry, Loba. You have every right to be.” The former IMC soldier turns and looks around at the other Legends, “you guys, too. But we don’t know what this monster they’re sending after us can do. If we just go in guns-a-blazing, we could be setting ourselves up for failure, and worse if they don’t keep up their end of the decision” calmly states Bangalore. “To hell with it, Anita. We kill the thing and then go after them! It’s that simple” Loba hastily retorts, a small rattling of uncertainty in her voice. “We need to end them” Loba follows up shakily, putting a hand to her chest, feeling her heart beating quickly underneath her ribcage. “Bangalore is right” speaks up Wattson. The cute French genius stands up. “We don’t have choice, we must fight. But if we don’t tread carefully, we may all end up like how some of you did” she states. “Awww, c’mon, fellas. Do ya really think one joker can take all us Legends out by em’self?” Fuse asks while kicking his feet up on a table, taking a sip of his beer. “Hmm..dey sure seem confident, bruddah” replies Gibby. “Otherwise, I don’t think dey would’ve threatened entire cities.” Gibraltr crosses his arms and leans forward at the table, the wood creaking a bit under his massive frame. Bangalore sighs “Alright...gear up, Legends. Looks like we got ourselves a fight. The Legends nod as they get up from their tables and head to the armory sectors. Each member grabbing an evo shield, knockdown shield, and gun of their choice. They head to the phase runner and dial in for King’s Canyon. As the blue and black energy of the void energy charges the expressions on their faces all show the same resolve; defeat the creature, and put an end to Pinnacle. The phase runner opens and the Legends walk through.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Weird “Rhythem”

What if humans were the only ones who could FEEL a beat like in music? 

The Journal of Mechanics and Biology 

Take a moment to consider a level one death world, take a moment to wonder what it would take to survive and adapt on a planet where literally everything is out to kill you. Imagine doing all of that without carapace, infrared, or particularly impressive short distance running speed. Yet the humans did it. They did it and then took their survival to an extreme. How is it that, relative to other predators, such a weak, slow, and helpless species survived on such a death world. * I take a moment here to point out that this is only a comparison of humans to their own planetary species well aware that they are considered a level A-1 predictor in the rest of the galaxy.

To answer this question, I draw your attention to he human brain. It is a fascinating organ of feedback loops complexities and redundant systems. Not to mention the human brain loves patterns. Not to say that there are other species who aren’t just as adept at noticing patters, however the difference remains that humans brain’s delight in predicting patterns within their environment. While a Glarian may be able to see a pattern faster than a human, the prediction power of the human brain on short notice is absolutely astonishing.

Anyone who has ever attempted to fight a human knows this. Humans are almost impossible to hit as they analyze and predict on the fly in a way that other species cannot. As it turns out this may have been the key to their survival.  

The ability to predict future behavior from past and present stimuli is common among higher sentient species, however a human is a fast predictor on the fly. A human and another species may come to the same conclusion though it may take their counterpart seconds or minutes to do what a human can do almost unconsciously and immediately.

The human brain loves patterns and predictions so much, that certain patterns can even elicit a dopamine response in the human brain giving rise to feelings of pleasure. Clearly an evolutionary advantage to enjoy patterns and predicting them.

Krill had only been aboard the human ship for about a week when he first heard the noise. It was distant and throbbed on the air with a certain alarming regularity. First, he thought it might be an alarm of some sort, but the rise and fall of the pulses made him think twice. The noise wasn’t a radio frequency which he could pick up, but the universal translator he wore continuously interpreted the sounds on the air allowing him to hear just like the humans did, or at least similarly to how they did. He found this ability to be critical on a ship where atmospheric vibration was a large part of human culture.

He stood up from where he sat and wandered his way down the hall listening to the sound and it’s throbbing pulse. As it turned out  the human auditory system processed sound in similar ways to how he processed radio transmission, in fact, humans often used the radio to send messages with transduction equipment to interpret the signals. In a similar way, that is what his translator did for him, turning sounds into appropriate frequency radio signals.

These signals were getting stronger as he made his way upwards and onto the bridge. The noise was close now, and he had to brace himself as he  opened the door walking in to find the group of humans lounging around at their stations in various states of relaxation.

But it wasn’t the humans that caught his attention, but the pulsing beat that swelled up around him throbbing in his chest and throughout all six limbs.  The experience was so exquisitely intoxicating that he staggered to the side with a wave of sudden overwhelming emotion.

The beat pulsed inside him with impossible regularity and complexity. So complex was the pattern that he could hardly keep up and his cortical systems struggled to keep all of him functioning as he listened.

Somewhere, someone must have noticed him, and the music was abruptly discontinued.

He became vaguely aware of bodies around him as he finally gained control of his senses.

Captain Vir was the first person he saw standing above him with a concerned look on his face.

“Uh, KRill? You alright.”

He couldn’t answer for a long moment before shaking his head one last time to clear his mind, “I... wow.... why did you stop. That was the most.... amazing thing I have ever heard.”

The captain sat back on his heels and the humans looked on in perplexity, “Have you.... Never heard music before?” The captain wondered

Krill shook his head, “No, I have but.... never.... like that.... so many patterns.... how do you keep up.”

The captain scratched the back of his head in confusion, “I uh.... well it’s not really all that big of a deal....”

Krill’s eyes widened in shock and he shook his head, “Not a big deal..... Human.... it takes years an an advanced mathematical degree to make sounds like that. The ability to create a beat with that regularity requires computerized algorithms or the ability to do mathematics in microseconds. I would have to count every beat and then some if I wished to come close to what you just did.” He shook his head in amazement, “And adding EXTRA sounds on top of that which match the beats is.... well its nigh on impossible without a computer do do it, and to make it sound good when all is said and done....” He trailed off in confusion.

Of course there was music on his planet, but it was very difficult to make, and even harder to make sound good. Generally speaking only two sounds were used in any really good piece of music, and they generally had to follow the same beat line, but the humans.... well what they did was astonishing.

As far as he understood from that once piece, it had a general background beat with very deep frequencies which would be low and deep, it then there was higher frequencies on top of that and at a faster beat, which was at almost exactly twice the speed of first.

The captain gave a grin as a look of understanding spread over his face, “You mean you can’t feel that?”

“Feel what?” Krill asked in confusion

“The beat?” He asked 

Krill shook his head, “You don’t feel a beat.”

That comet created an immediate uproar in the humans who disagreed with his analysis vehemently.

The captain shook his head in amazement. Yes you can, its like... a pulsing, and you just.... well you just KNOW something needs to be there. Makes you want to tap your foot, bounce your knee, or start dancing.”

Krill stared at the human who must have gone completely daft, “You FEEL sound.”

The captain frowned, “No... not exactly, its just a feeling. It builds up in your body, and its hard to keep yourself still.”

Krill had his head another shake, “It’s impossible.”

The human gave a frown of annoyance and stood up, “You know what then.... bet you I can make a beat right now, and I bet everyone else in this room can follow with me.”

Krill disagreed, “To coordinate over twenty crew members is impossible.”

“Yeah, you bet, bet I can do that and get a background beat to go with it too. Bet we could make up a song right now if we really tried.”

“I would very much like to see you do that, human.” 

The man gave a grin, “You know what, I’d turn this into a bet, but winning will be to easy.”

Krill very much doubted the human’s statement, but he let the man think what he would and watched him as he returned to the center of the room. All the humans had taken to their feet interested in what was about to happen.

The captain stood thinking for a moment, and Krill watched sure that he would give up any second, but then 

The captain stomped his foot on the metal deck.

Thud...Thud-Clap (his hands struck each other with a loud sudden pulse. That sure didn’t sound like a beat to him.

But then

Thud...thud-clap.... thud....thud-clap-clap... thud... thud-clap....

Krill blinked in shock, as slowly, one by one all the other humans joined mimicking the beat the captain had created out of thin air. But it wasn’t just a simple beat, it was a cycle of slow to fast, and as far as krill could tell it was almost the same every time.

Behind him someone started knocking their hand against a control panel every so often in a completely different beat that both contrasted and matched the first.

With a hand, the captain motioned to the first lieutenant who then placed his hands over his mouth and began to weave another cycle of beats through the first two.. He wasn’t using any language that Krill could  identify. Krill had never heard a human voice box used in that way before.

“Alright, someone wanna give me some lyrics.” The captain called somehow still maintaining the complex under-beat as he spoke to the crew. Krill couldn’t understand it. He could hardly follow the beat as it was much less talk to anyone while doing it.

Somewhere in the back a noise rose up to weave through the three beats around. HIs translator caught a few words, but the sound was so different... so unexpected that he couldn’t have comprehended it if he tried. The human was.... doing something. Something that opened her throat and allowed the air to rush through in controlled bursts between breaths. It was like speaking but drawn out to send vibrations through the air. A few of the humans whooped their approval joining to add their voices to the first.

Halfway through another crew member added his voice. Krill could hear it this time, but the human was speaking almost to quickly for the translator to comprehend, and he was pacing it WITH the beat. He was speaking with a rhythm.

 Impossibly all twenty humans on the bridge crew had joined in. Some used their voices some their hands some their feet, and more than one mixed them in combination.

He had never seen anything like it.

He would later learn about the human brain’s enjoyment of predictable patterns. Their brain enjoyed patterns and predictions so much that a musical beat was almost second nature to a human. This enjoyment was so profound that the humans received an almost intoxicated reaction to the complex auditory patterns.

Not only that, but the humans could increase their factual memory tenfold by creating a song that incorporated the information. Ask a human and they find it easier to recall the lyrics to their favorite song than it is to recall mathematical equations. That is until you add a rhythm to a mathematical equation and then the human might end up with the equation stuck in their head on repeat as their brain replays the beat over and over.

Want a human to remember something.... make a song about it.

If human musicians had been popular on their home world, it was multiplied tenfold once their music reached the galaxy/ They were actually beginning to have a problem with humans retiring and buying the odd moon here and there. 

[lilacivories]

welcome to the family

characters: Reid, Morgan, Garcia, Hotchner

pairing(s): none

summary: Reid admittedly doesn’t have much experience with different forms of affection outside of the world of theoretics and academia, and the BAU team helps to introduce him to the real thing

word count: 1686

a/n: I wrote this for @ticklishraspberries after she let me essentially live tweet the first season of criminal minds in her messages <333

It wasn’t odd, Reid realized almost immediately, to find his teammates in affectionate positions around the office. Not only was it his job to observe this type of behavior and take them into consideration, but nobody attempted to hide it. Any unspoken societal rule that existed about these things were either ignored or thrown out the window.

It was shoulder massages at their desks and gentle, barely-there pats on the back while passing each other by in the hallways. It was Hotch letting someone take a nap on the couch in his office and covering them with a blanket he had for the occasion, or JJ allowing Elle to rest her head on her shoulder on a long plane ride back to Virginia. It was something Reid had never expected from FBI agents: Tenderness.

And then there were the more playful days, which became more and more frequent with each case the team worked on together. At first, Reid wasn’t quite sure what type of game they were playing, all of them flinching away from each other, until he was witnessed it first-hand.

It happened rather quickly, with Reid’s only warning being a wink his way from Garcia as she snuck up behind Morgan.

“Hey!” he cried when her fingers found his sides; with his reflexes, there was only a split second delay before he had swiveled around and snatched up her devious hands, his smirk matching hers.

“I knew you were ticklish,” she said, simper sweet as acid. “I’m gonna get you so good once I can keep you from squirming around.”

“I’d like to see you try, baby girl,” Morgan countered, not flustered in the least.

“It actually isn’t his fault,” Reid piped up, stirring his coffee. “Scientists have found that it’s the hypothalamus comes into play when you're being tickled, which coordinates your autonomic nervous system– essentially, it’s a fight-or-flight response. Some evolutionary researchers even think that laughing when you're being tickled is a defense mechanism.”

“Thank you for the lesson, wunderkind,” Garcia joked. She gave him a kind pat on the shoulder as she walked away. Reid appreciated the gesture, however brief, and glanced behind just in time to see her giving Morgan a silent, playful glare.

These forms of affection seemed to be doled out in some form of never-ending prank war, where attacks would happen at random. Even more strangely, the tickling wasn’t undesirable– Reid was more than 95% sure that it was enjoyed by everyone involved. Not one person’s body language indicated that they wanted it to stop, besides the instinctual curling away from the touch.

“That’s gargalesis,” he informed JJ after Elle jabbed her in the ribs and she was left rubbing the area. “It’s a specific type of tickling sensation. Knismesis refers to a light tickling, often used as a defense mechanism against insects. It usually causes an itching sensation and not laughter. Gargalesis, however, is laughter-provoking, usually caused by a harder pressure to the skin.”

JJ chuckled. “Very interesting, Spence, but I think I prefer the real thing.”

None of this specific type of affection was actually shown towards Reid until they were on their way to Montana on a case, everyone taking the time to spread out and relax on the plane as they went over the details.

“Your posture doesn’t have to be perfect all the time, you know,” Morgan teased Reid as he sat next to him. “We have a couple of hours before we actually get to the crime scene.”

Reid frowned and rolled his shoulders; they were a bit stiff, but he didn’t deem it too important, so he merely winced at a small pain here and there before returning to the case file. “Keeping good posture actually prevents fatigue, because the muscles are being used more efficiently. This allows the body to use less energy, as well as– ah!”

It was only a quick jab to his side, but it was enough to derail his train of information. Reid looked down at his own body, which had flinched away, then back up at Morgan. “What was that?”

Morgan was laughing, however. “Oh, Garcia owes me so much money!” he whooped. “I knew it!”

“Knew what?” Reid demanded.

“That you’re ticklish!” Morgan said. “She was so sure you weren’t. Lucky for me, she was wrong. Which means I get to rake in fifty dollars.” His demeanor changed, eyes narrowing and grin only growing. “And now, I have a great way to relax all those rigid muscles of yours!”

An unexpected squeal escaped Reid’s mouth when Morgan started to squeeze at his sides, followed by bright, uncharacteristic giggles.

“No, no, no!” Reid cried, squirming almost frantically, but Morgan had him trapped, pulling him against his chest, strong arms wrapping around his waist.

Red could feel his ears heating up; he hadn’t expected to be so self-conscious about his laugh. It was high and bright and unfettered, and, moreover, completely ridiculous. He just couldn’t control himself.

He could feel his attacker chuckling along with him. “Consider this as making up for lost time, giggle boy,” he teased. Reid wanted to protest against the new nickname, but Morgan had migrated to his lower ribs, and his giggles upgraded to desperate cackles.

“M-Morgan!” he shrieked as they both discovered just how ticklish every inch of his ribs were. It wasn’t long until Morgan was at the very top, digging just right into the spot below his underarms. “Not there, not there!”

“Rookie mistake,” Hotch warned too late, never looking up from the case file. “You’ve just given your attacker vital information on a weak spot, and now he has a perfect way of incapacitating you. Do you have a plan for escape?”

Each and every word only worsened Reid’s predicament, especially when one of Morgan’s hands began to claw at his stomach, the other still working diligently to tease the hypersensitive spaces between his ribs. Reid doubled over, hair a mess, but was back to pressing against Morgan’s chest in a futile attempt to get away from the fingers suddenly sneaking underneath his shirt and skittering around his belly button.

“I’ll take that as a ‘no’,” Elle said after Reid let out a loud, helpless snort.

“Pl– please! Pleahease!” Reid exclaimed; his ears were red and his cheeks were catching up. He had no clue what he was pleading for, but that certainly didn’t stop him.

“Begging makes the attacker feel more in control,” Morgan said, and Reid wanted to kick him for how coolly he spoke. “It lets them know that you’re entirely at their mercy. You’re just adding fuel to the fire at this point, kid.”

He couldn’t even speak anymore, which Reid hadn’t anticipated– all he could do was shake his head and push at Morgan’s hands until his friend finally got the picture and backed off.

Reid slumped in his hold, panting and giggling. “Looks like someone finally got him to relax,” he heard JJ remark.

“Better than a massage,” Morgan joked. Then, to Spencer: “I didn’t kill you too bad, did I?”

Spencer shook his head, though his breathing still had yet to even out.

“Good, because I am definitely telling Garcia all about this.” Morgan patted his on the shoulder. “Welcome to the family, kid.”

Spencer didn’t speak again until he and Morgan were alone, driving to one of the victim’s houses. Imposing pine trees lined the old road on either side, split up only by flat lengths of grass where nothing else had grown.

“What are you thinking?” Morgan asked, hating the quiet.

“Hm? Oh,” Reid cleared his throat. “Uh, I think the unsub definitely wants an audience. He’s most likely–”

“I don’t mean about the case,” Morgan clarified. “I asked what you’re thinking. It’s usually pretty hard to keep you quiet, so I figured it’s something you can’t quite wrap your head around. And you can always do that with a case.”

Reid shifted in his seat, a light flush rising on his cheekbones at being called out. “I just– I was–” He pushed his hair back nervously. “A-about the plane.”

Morgan glanced at him. “The plane itself or something that happened on the plane?”

“You...tickled me.”

“Oh. I won’t do it again, if you’d prefer. It’s just something the rest of us kind of do.”

This was apparently the wrong thing to say, because Reid’s cheeks darkened and he only stammered worse. “No, n-no, I mean– well, I mean–” He composed himself enough to admit, “No one’s ever done that to me before.”

Morgan barked out a laugh. “You’re kidding!” he accused, before actually turning to see how apprehensive his colleague was. It hadn’t occurred to him how foreign– or how important– this type of affection might be to the kid.

“Is it weird if I liked it?” Reid suddenly asked.

“Do you think the rest of us do it all the time because we don’t like it?” Morgan countered; he placed a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, look, of course it isn’t weird. That’s what being part of the family means.”

Reid nodded, still embarrassed, though Morgan could see a small, pleased smile tugging on the corners of his mouth. “Alright,” he conceded.

“Nuh-uh,” Morgan said. “You gotta smile for me now, those are the rules.” He fluttered his fingers over the kid’s ear, smiling when he giggled and snorted.

“Okay, okay!” Reid squealed. “Keep your eyes on the road!”

Morgan stopped and did so, not wanting to send them off the road while trying to cheer Reid up. “Just remember, I’ll wreck your shit as often as I need to if you keep it up with those stiff, skinny shoulders.”

“Actually, ten to fifteen minutes of laughing burns 10 to 40 extra calories a day, which could add up to one to four pounds in a year,” Reid corrected. “Which probably wouldn’t help with the whole ‘skinny shoulders’ thing.”

“You just wait for the flight back,” Morgan threatened. “You’re so getting it.”

If he saw how big Reid’s smile grew at that, he didn’t say anything. He was glad to just see the kid happy.

[bosstoaster]

Wing au?

(whoops, sorry this took so long.  These are closed, everyone, but this one deserved answering)

I) Shiro has always been proud of his wings.

These days, there’s not much point to wings.  They were little more than an evolutionary leftover.  At one point, wings were useful tools for surviving in the wild, gliding away from danger more than outright flying.  Now, they stayed tucked against people’s backs, only making themselves known in fashion or when anyone accidentally bumped someone with them and had to apologize for spilling their coffee.

Shiro had a phase where he was determined to fly with them.  Nevermind that he’d been eight and they’d been little more than tufts of down.  He’d jumped off of everything he could climb up, from furniture to trees and, one one occasion, he’d nearly made it off the roof.

Eventually, the impossibility of Shiro’s dream settled in, but he never stopped wanting to fly, and he never stopped loving his wings.  They were a sleek black, shiny and resilient, and Shiro kept them well exercised when most people let the muscles atrophy.  While he still couldn’t fly, he could create a gust of wind strong enough to make most anyone stumble, and he’d won more than one stupid teenage dare about gliding distance.

Still, if his wings couldn’t get him airborne, Shiro was going to find a way.

II) The Galaxy Garrison was that way

(Read More Below)

Shiro found the same feeling of thrill in flying a machine that had ignited his young imagination.  It wasn’t quite the same, but it was the closest Shiro could get.  He could soar in simulations, could part clouds with the wings of his plane.  Could look down and see the world, so small below him it was like toys.  Like the rest of his life was playing along, and this was reality.

The Galaxy Garrison was where Shiro could finally spread his wings, physically and metaphorically.  It was where he meet like-minded people, who looked up at the night sky and thought I belong there.  It was where he met Keith, whose drive to touch the sky might have been greater than Shiro’s own - or he was simply less reserved about chasing it.

Shiro pushed forward, fought for opportunity, excelled.

Shiro learned how to fly.  And like his eight-year-old self had always believed, he was good at it.

Looking up at the huge stretch of the night sky, Shiro fell back against the roof, his wings as extended as they would go.  Sitting next to him, Keith absently flapped his own wings, brown and clay-red like the desert that surrounded them.

“I’m going to apply,” Shiro decided, still looking up.  He could easily pick out Mars and Venus in the night sky, but what he wanted was farther than that.  Much, much farther.

Keith hummed, unsurprised.  “That’s a long time to have to keep your wings tucked,” he pointed out, eyeing where Shiro was taking up half the roof with his wingspan.

Rolling his eyes, Shiro sat up and flattened them to his back.  The primaries trailed against the wood of the shack’s roof, sending a shiver through him.  “I’ll manage.  It’ll be worth it.  Kerberos, Keith.  The first people to the edge of the solar system.  I have to try.”

“Yeah,” Keith agreed.  “I would too.”  He curled his legs up to his chest, one wing splaying out toward Shiro.  The reddish tips just brushed against the center of Shiro’s back, over where his wings were tucked tight.  “I’ll miss you, you know.”

Shiro laughed softly.  “Getting ahead of yourself.  I’m barely graduated.  Who knows if they’ll want me even applying.”

“That won’t stop you,” Keith replied.  “And they will.  There’s no one better.”

Keith might have been competition, but he was too young yet, still two years out from graduation.

“Seniority matters,” Shiro reminded him, eyes closed.  When Keith’s feathers brushed his own, Shiro pushed his wings back, like a cat leaning into petting.  Feather to feather contact was okay with Keith, especially when he started it.  Skin to skin was a different story.

Rolling his shoulders, Keith glanced back at the cluster of lights on the horizon that was the Garrison.  “Then the brass are idiots.”

No arguments there.  Shiro still smiled, charmed at Keith’s defense.

Finally, he spread his wings further, using his longer wingspan to wrap around Keith’s shoulders like a blanket.  “I’ll miss you too.”

Keith’s smile was bright, for the second before he hid it in his knees.

III) The months-long journey to Kerberos was painful

Shiro had lived in apartments and condos for most of his life.  He’d spend hours in class with his wings shivering and twitching, trying to keep them in as small a space as he could.  But he’d never gone longer than a few days without getting the chance to fully stretch out and flap, if only for a minute or two.

The Daedalus was simply too small to allow that kind of movement.  Even when Shiro wasn’t wearing his bulky suit that covered his wings completely, he could only get about half-open before he was in danger of hitting equipment.

It didn’t seem to bother either of his teammates nearly so much.  Commander Holt reminded him to keep up his exercises, which were supposed to help keep his muscles from atrophying.  He kept his own up every day, but didn’t seem to have the same constant itch to flap that Shiro struggled with.

Matt was even worse.  He barely cared, laughing at Shiro’s mounting frustration.  “You can fly in zero grav back at the Garrison,” he reminded Shiro fondly.  “You need to do it here, too?”

“You don’t feel trapped?”  Shiro had never been claustrophobic, or else he’d never have survived training.  Cockpits tended to be small, especially with anyone with a larger wingspan.

Considering, Matt shrugged one shoulder.  “Yeah, kind of.  I miss going on runs.  But I don’t mind keeping my wings tucked.  I usually keep them there anyway.”

Baffling, but not unexpected.  Most people were that way.  Shiro just didn’t understand how.

When they finally landed on Kerberos and set up the equipment, Shiro closed his eyes and imagined being able to spread his wings.  To hang on the edge of this planet, tips of his feathers as far apart as they could go.  Imagining taking a running leap and pushing off, using the lack of gravity to glide into the stars, momentum going on forever.

Letting go of the childish fantasy with a sigh, Shiro opened his eyes.

And saw a ship above them.

A ship that wasn’t one he recognized.

“Run!”

IV) Shiro has never needed it, but the wings had another benefit: Combat

Gripping the blade in his hands, Shiro’s breath came in short, desperate gasps.  That was two, so this was-

There was a vicious hum as Myzax’s weapon burst toward him, slamming through the rock pillar and throwing up a cloud of dust.

Three.

Ducking around from his cover, Shiro kept his wings tucked, streamlined as possible as he tried to gain ground.  Myzax held out his staff, taking back the ball, which hummed and stayed in place, recharging from the last volley.

That didn’t make his opponent less dangerous.  That didn’t make Shiro closer in size to the monster in front of him.

But he had one trick that Myxaz didn’t.

Right before he got into striking range, Shiro crouched, then snapped his wings out and flapped. At the same moment, he sprang up, getting more height than he had any other time in the fight.

Myzax’s head started to pull up, following the fast move too late.

Shiro was already bringing the blade down, slicing over his face and sending the monster crashing to the ground.  His wings stayed out, giving him a soft landing, and Shiro was able to kick the energy weapon away and hold out his blade in clear threat.

There was a long pause.

Then, the audience erupted into screams and roars, losing their minds.

Shiro had won.  Shiro had won.

And he continued to win. Even when his feathers dulled and failed to grow back, even when stark white lines of scars crossed the flesh, even when his face was sliced open and blood drenched his face and neck.

But once, his armored, sworded opponent was faster than Shiro expected, more devastating with his attacks.  He fought like Shiro, the battle itself a show, the killing blows swift and nearly merciful.

Shiro still won, but the opponent got him in the back, stabbing in and twisting, cracking the fragile bone.

Shiro still won, but his arm hung from tatters of muscle.

Shiro still won, but he collapsed to the dirt floor, bleeding out quickly.

Staring up at the bright lights and listening to the cheers and screams fading, Shiro thought this is how I die.

Until the very bottom of a robe brushed what was left of his wings,and a clawed hand grabbed him by the jaw.

One look at Haggar’s smile told Shiro he would not die today.  But he would want to.

V) Haggar took his wings

Staring in the mirror of Keith’s little shack, Shiro’s stomach flipped.  

He didn’t recognize the man in the mirror.

The deep scar cut over his nose, merely the most visible with his clothes on.  It lengthened his face, aged him, making Shiro wonder just how long he’d been gone.  White bangs fell into his face, brushed back by metal fingers.

And his wings.

His wings were just as mechanical as his left hand.  No longer black and glossy, they were the same silver and dark grey material as the other prosthetic.  Where they’d been one streamlined piece, now there were fewer feathers, jagged and shining.  These weren’t for flying.  They were weapons.

These weren’t his wings.  These weren’t the tufts of down he’d grown up with, that he’d glided with as a teenager, that he’d learned to spread and tuck by turns at the Garrison.  This was like having living swords strapped to his back, a sick mockery.

Stumbling out into the light of dawn, Shiro clutched his metal wrist and stared out, watching the shadows of his false wings grow over the sand.

“It’s good to have you back,” Keith murmured later, when he found Shiro staring.

“It’s good to be back,” he replied, but it was numb.  Shiro wasn’t back.  Not really.  Only pieces of him.  His wings were gone.

Keith swallowed, his clay-red wings brushing over the metal.  Shiro could see it, but he couldn’t feel it.  He ached for that contact, the kind Keith would always allow, but that he could never offer again.

“We need to talk,” Keith said.  “Come back inside.”

In a daze, Shiro followed.

The false-wings tucked against his back, far more comfortable there than the real ones had ever been.  

Shiro had no desire to spread these.

Bonus)

The Black Lion had wings.

Shiro had noticed, idly, the difference in design when Allura had shown them the holograms.  But it didn’t register until this moment.

The Black Lion had metal wings, each of the shining primaries long spread wide.  They were red where Shiro’s were black, but otherwise so similar.  The same in the ways that mattered.

Stepping forward, ringed from behind by the other four lions, Shiro’s heart reached out, and felt another’s meet him there.

The Black Lion roared in greeting.

Shiro spread his wings for the first time since waking up.

It was time for them to fly.

[overseer2020]

Landing Safely 2

Part II is the two-color set and also the allied-color set. This includes “arcs”-- three color combinations that are adjacent to one another on the color wheel. So how do I represent allied trios in a two color set? Well, I didn’t. Except I did. Or, I sort of cheated. As of now, there are a set of two-color lands for all ten pairings and a set of three color lands for all three color trios. The allied pairs and the arc trios are in Part II and the enemy pairs and wedge trios are in Part III.

Keen-eyed/Loyal readers might know that the title and flavor text for this card were lifted from another cycle I had intended to use in Heroes and Villains. I was really excited at the prospect of using those lands, but sometimes you have to kill your darlings, and those lands were not going to fit in this set anymore. I probably could have just shoved them in because it’s my set after all, but  in the spirit of resembling an actual Magic set, there would have been too many lands for one block. On the plus side, that means I have lands I can use for another project already predesigned.

Mechanically, we have the familiar ‘Add C, and make a storage counter’ ability line from the Depository cycle. Here, it’s technically a charge counter, as the idea is that these lands are flourishing/bristling with abundance of energy, but I’m going to try to avoid confusion in the player’s mind with alternating monikers. 

The second ability is your meat and potatoes storage counter cash-in ability. One counter for your choice of two colors. Every other ability is either an amped up or powered down version of this. The common monocolor lands throw in the tweak that the counter to be cashed in can come from any land and the three-color lands... well, you’ll just have to wait until next time for that one.

Ah, a peek behind the curtains. I don’t have names or art for this uncommon cycle of “maze” lands yet. I wasn’t sure I was going to use this version until this weekend. Originally, these were going to cost you one storage counter for a colored mana and two for either of the first color’s allies. 

I’m calling these ‘Maze Lands” because one can only get W (for example) the turn you play it. Then you can only get G or U once it has a storage counter on it. Only then can you get W from it again. It’s not as random as I had originally envisioned, but it gets the erratic nature of these lands across.

Note that these Part II lands can only remove counters from themselves...

Uh-oh!

Whoops! (I told you the design file was in flux.) That wasn’t the correct land. I won’t be featuring the maze lands in Heroes and Villains proper. I might trot them out for one of the ancillary products. Remember I said I was going to do the Wizards of the Coast thing as much as possible? Well, I’m beginning to sense that I might have designed more cards than I can use in four(!) sets of Magic, so some of them will find their way into Commander Decks or Planeswalker Decks or Duel Decks or whatever I come up with.

As for the actual cycle I intend to use in Part II, This continuation of the storage idea tacks on an etb tapped rider to allow for a third mana option. This was the Part III twist I alluded to above. 

It’s not as chaotic as some of my other designs, but you can see the remnant of some of my early efforts. Before I realized I could just type CARDNAME into the text box, I had to spell-check every instance of a card referencing itself, then update it if I changed the card’s name. The Unstable Lands (and the Stabilized Lands) were intended as an evolutionary consequence of these lands healing from millenia of not producing mana. I don’t know what I’m going to call this cycle, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to work this flavor beat into the final product. 

I can’t believe that after all the variations I had on-deck for three color lands (as hinted at by the Maze Lands), this simple idea seems to have been all I needed.

In fact, since you’ve seen examples of the common and uncommon cycles that will appear in Parts II and III, there will be no need to essentially repeat myself tomorrow. Therefore, let’s leave the rare cycles for II and III until later.

Next time: Mid-block rarities! Completing the Storage Megacycle

[nuzblog]

DECEMBER 7th, 2017

I knew this was going to happen. Here I am, on December NINETEENTH, a whole 12 days after the previous play session, only just now sitting down to catalogue my journey so that, just maybe, I'll be able to play some more of this game later. I knew this would happen because it's Gen 2, and... well. I have some feelings on Gen 2, and on Johto. I intend to at least finish the game before I go too in depth here, but suffice to say, I think that Johto is lacking hard in biodiversity, its level curve is preposterously unbalanced, it doesn't have enough interesting unique landmarks to actually ever grab my attention, and I overall consider it a low point in the series.

To add to that, this run, despite how far I've come, has kind of sucked. I'm sort of stuck using Exeggcute but it is really honestly turning out to not nearly be worth the amount of trouble it's causing. For example, over the course of this post, I will hatch THREE MORE EXEGGCUTE because the damn things keep dying on me. Oh, and Furries, my sole hope for Dark type coverage for the upcoming Ghost-type gym (and, later down the road, for Will of the Elite 4 and Sabrina of Kanto), died pretty early into my play on the Morning of December 7th. If I had started with, say, Totodile, I wouldn't have this problem, and also I wouldn't have to deal with this absolutely godawful shit rat. I mean. Quilava, a Pokemon that a lot of people understandably like quite a bit. (But really it's just. So bad.)

Anyway, I backtracked back to New Bark to grab berries and then forwardtracked to where I was, and on the way, Furries died and also my egg hatched. I named the exeggcute Light Show, and while I was trying to grind it to a useful level, naturally, it died. GROAN.

I hatched another, and named it Bustin, eventually. This hatching process takes forEVER.

On Route 39, I look for a Pokemon I can catch, and... this is what I'm talking about with the biodiversity. There's 251 Pokemon in this game, and what do I find on this route? Literally only Raticates and Meowths. I CAN find Magnemite here, supposedly, but I sure as hell didn't actually get one. No, what I found in here was... oh, god damn it, and also Bustin died!! Fuck!!! And then I found a Miltank and critted it to death!!! God damn it!!!!

Anyway, whatever. I head South towards Olivine, and then my rival pops up out of nowhere and I nearly have a heart attack because, oh jesus if he fights me I'm literally dead. Fortunately, he doesn't, just shows up to blab at me. Whoopdedoo.

Anyway then I stopped playing for like a week or something.

DECEMBER 12th, 2017

But I'm gonna keep it in the same post. One long post is easier than two not long posts. And I wanted to take a break from Mario for Pokemon. Oh, yeah, did I mention Mario? I've got Mario Odyssey and it rules and is basically better than this game in every conceivable way!

I fought through Morty's gym trainers. I want to have an actually usable Exeggcute with Confusion for Morty himself, since despite Gen 2 adding literally exactly one Ghost type, this gym is still entirely Gastly's evolutionary line, which means they're all weak to Psychic.

I run back for more berries, I run back and forth, I heal in New Bark... hey, that's another thing I can complain about. I think this Pokemon Center rule kinda sucks? Like... you know how in some video games, mistakes are punished not by like, a game over or just a notch closer to death, but with a slow obnoxious trek out of your way to get back to progress? Like... in a lot of the 2D Sonic games, there are levels where you're up high doing a platforming but if you fall, you don't drop into a pit or anything, but you do fall into some water and you have to climb up in the slow and unpleasant water to get out?

Well, at this point in the game, backtracking to New Bark anytime I want to heal but don't want to like, spend all my money or use all my chances elsewhere, is basically like that, but executed poorly. It doesn't actually punish me for mistakes, because if I make an actual mistake then a Pokemon will die. Instead, I get to choose between this awful slog back to New Bark, spending a limited resource, and putting my Pokemon in danger. None of these are pleasant or make the game more fun, but they also don't turn out to make the game more challenging.

And once I beat Chuck I'll be able to Fly, making this essentially entirely obsolete as a gameplay concept, since the slog will no longer be a slog. This makes it an even worse rule, and quite frankly, I'm just about done with it. I'll still hold myself to it for the remainder of this playthrough, whether it goes all the way to the Elite Four or not, but once I have retired the character of Sheen, I will also be retiring the limited Pokemon Center heals rule. I'm not sure what I will replace it with, but mark my words, the rules WILL change. Cause right now, they're just not fun.

ANYWAY. Back to gameplay. I hatch my next eggs and I name them Busta, and hope that I don't need to name another, cause I'm already running pretty low on egg names.

I grind... I fall asleep...

DECEMBER 13th, 2017

I grind... Busta learns Confusion! Friggin' finally! Of course, that also means it's basically at its endgame moveset until Kanto, when I get access to Psychic and Giga Drain. Hey speakng of the "Drain" moves, what is WITH them having such garbage PP? Like, they're not nearly strong enough to warrant the PP cost. Giga Drain should have 10, Mega should have 20 and Absorb should have 30. At least. That's honestly what makes me backtrack to New Bark the most, is needing PP for Mega Drain.

While grinding, I did battle my way through the Lighthouse, talking to Jasmine to activate the Cianwood quest. I could just go there now, I guess, but first I'm gonna heal in Ecruteak and head in to battle Morty. My full team can join me here, so IndieCindy, TIME, Wiggles and Busta are all here.

Busta OHKOs his Gastly, and is cursed by Haunter while beating him, and doesn't even get hit by it before switching out to IndieCindy, who I needed to fight Gengar anyway because it has Shadow Ball. Smokescreen doesn't deter it from trying so very hard to combo Hypnosis into Dream Eater. Cindy falls asleep and I switch back to Busta, and again - Morty has SHADOW BALL here, but no, it keeps trying to Hypnotize me through the smokescreen. Busta beats Gengar and then 2-hit KO's Haunter, and I'm golden! Hooray! That's 4 Gym Leaders down, and only 12 more to go! "Hooray."

So, let's talk about Surf, because this is another thing that would be fine if, say, Rainwater hadn't been tragically lost to me, or if I had started with Totodile. Right now, the only Water type in my box is Amnesia, and I... just plain don't want to use a Slowpoke here. I could just use it as a Surf slave I suppose, but I WANT something that can actually be of use to me. There's a few things available, and some I want more than others, so let's look around with the Good Rod, huh?

In Cherrygrove, I catch a Krabby. I name it Copper.

Now, what I want to have happen here, optimally, is that I will catch either a Chinchou or a Shellder in Olivine. In order to optimize my chances of that, I need to catch a Magikarp and a Tentacool. First, I teach Copper Surf and surf on Route 40, and am set upon, naturally, by a Tentacool... which I mess up and murderize! WHOOPS!

I head down to Route 41, not realizing that I actually do have the same fishing chances here as I do in Olivine, and a Tentacruel shows up, and I catch it. Because, of course, there is literally no life in the oceans other than Jellyfish, apparently. I name the Tentacruel Deep Ocean, and head back to Ecruteak to catch a Magikarp. It's low level, so I try to use something it will resist and at low power... and yet, a single Ember still murders it. Shit!

I head to Olivine, fingers crossed, and... god damn it. Magikarp. My plan was an absolute failure in every way and I don't get shit for good water types. I name this thing Boat and, out of stubbornness, and since it's already level 20, I grind one level onto it without even healing it from its damage and sleep, and then ride it as a Gyarados all the way to Cianwood without waking it up. It really is just a boat. Ugh.

I get a free Shuckle. Hooray. I like Shuckle a lot, but I'm not sure I want ANOTHER Rock type. Also it doesn't fit the name scheme.

I grab the medicine I need, and... ugh. I need to fight Chuck, huh? And then Jasmine? Siiigh. I'll do that next time.

My apologies for how acerbic this all is. I just... am not a fan of Gen 2. 

[hiruma-musouka]

Okay but like, can someone PRETTY PLEASE draw League Champion Obito and his Chandelure (who's name I bet is Kamui lol). Because I have a SERIOUS yearning for Pokemon League Champion Obito and his Chandelure. You can't tell me it wouldn't be EPIC.

((Well I can’t draw but you can view this as your fault if you like.))

Title: through every challenge along the way   AO3 link [with formatting]

Fandom: Naruto, pokemon fusion … Rating: General audiences

Summary: Obito has always believed he would be a pokemon champion someday, but it’s still a slight shock when Hashirama loses.

Hashirama’s Chesnaught sways in place, takes a half step forward, and topples to the ground with a resounding thud.

Obito freezes.

The teenager watches with baited breath as the champion’s armored tank of a pokemon shifts, groggily moving around on the arena floor as it tries to drag itself up and move through its injuries. Kamui bristles tiredly, flames flaring as Obito’s irritated and exhausted Chandelure gears up for yet another attempt at making the ludicrously strong Grass-Fighter stay down.

Except then it stills.

The entire stadium seems to pause: all the trainers and spectators poised on the edge of excitement as the announcer starts the ten second countdown. At six seconds, Konoha - and there’s a small part of Obito’s brain that’s still incredulous that the Elemental Archipelago’s regional champion named his first Grass pokemon ‘Leaf’ - tries to get up again, but it fails even as Kamui circles the battleground, eyes glowing a familiar eerie purple-red as Obito’s favorite girl prepares a Hex.

And then the countdown hits zero and the world goes wild.

“I did it,” Obito whispers, screaming crowd fading into the background as he stands in shock, shoulders loosening as he stares across the field at Hashirama. The older man - the former champion - gives him a wide friendly grin as a familiar blond woman with two pigtails trailing down her back storms forward to check on the injured Chesnaught, followed by a beautifully healthy Blissey and—

Kamui bumps into his shoulder demandingly, half-substantial body badly scuffed up from the half-effective but brutal Wood Hammer Chesnaught had landed on her earlier. That attack had nearly been it for them, had nearly been the end, and yet…

Obito stares at his first pokemon and bursts out laughing.

“YES!” he whoops, jumping into the air with a victorious punch. “We did it! Kamui, we did it!”

Kamui squeals indignantly as Obito lunges at her, dropping them both halfway to the ground as he tightly hugs the tired Fire-Ghost pokemon against him while laughing. The Chandelure gives him about thirty seconds of free hugging to celebrate their win and then goes cold, making Obito shiver as she starts draining little bits of life energy out of the air around her.

“Alright, alright, I know you’re exhausted!” Obito laughs defensively, unable to stop grinning as he shakes out numbing arms and stands back up. “Let’s go greet the champion and— and Kamui! We won the CHAMPIONSHIP!”

Obito spins around, scanning the audience eagerly. He finally finds Rin and Kakashi sitting a few rows up from the front, behind the seats reserved for the any regional gym leaders, like Madara and Izuna, who had chosen to attend in person.

Rin is up and standing on her seat, voice lost in the crowd but clapping so enthusiastically that there’s no question that it’s her volume making Kakashi cringe next to her. Bakashi - once Rin kicks him and he finally notices that Obito is staring - looks down at him, expression hidden under the weirdo’s omnipresent scarf.

Obito grins widely up at him, tossing an arm around Kamui as he waves at the normally smug jerk. It might have taken Obito until he was seventeen to finally make it past the Elemental Regionals and thus qualify for the Championship League unlike Kakashi who had done both at thirteen, but Obito had done it! And he’d WON!

He and Kamui had even managed to beat the exact same Chesnaught that had wiped the floor with Kakashi and his dog pokemon! Hashirama’s Konoha had resisted everything Kakashi had thrown at it four years ago. It had beaten Kakashi’s Granbull despite the type disadvantage, and it had beaten Kakashi’s strongest, Jolteon, who had been with the other teen since he and Obito had been tiny brats bickering over how Kakashi’s Eevee kept knocking Obito’s Litwick off his head.

Hashirama had been champion for over a decade… but Obito had won.

Kakashi gets to his feet beside Rin with his Jolteon in his arms and inclines his head towards Obito as he holds up a hand. Obito grins, waving harder even as Kamui gets impatient and holds up one of her candles near his head, silently threatening to set Obito’s hair on fire again. Bakashi’s shoulders jerk, familiar enough that Obito knows he’s being laughed at, and then the complete dork lifts up his Jolteon and grabs one of its front paws to make Chidori wave at Obito.

“I’m gonna laugh when that idiot gets himself electrocu—” Obito chokes as Kamui finally loses patience, hooking an arm around his neck and dragging him over to Hashirama while Obito scrambles to stay upright.

“Well done!” the older trainer greets him, as Obito coughs and catches his breath, rubbing at his chilled throat as Kamui finally lets go. “Congratulations on winning the Championship League, Obito. It was a really interesting challenge! I’ve been looking forward to fighting you since I saw the list of the regional trainers who had qualified.”

“It was? I mean, you have? I mean, yeah, me too!” Obito splutters, grinning sheepishly and rubbing the back of his head as he shakes Hashirama’s hand.

“Alright, your Chesnaught’s going to be fine, Hashirama. Just bring it by later today,” the blond woman says, startling Obito who had completely forgotten about— shit, gym leader Tsunade. She stands up, crossing her arms and giving Kamui a narrow-eyed stare that abruptly reminds Obito of the match he’d had with her once and all the deceptively cute and terrifying Normal pokemon that she had practically clobbered him with. “Is that Ghost of yours alright for the closing ceremony, kid, or do you need to hit the stadium’s pokecenter first?”

“We’re ok,” Obito answers quickly. Kamui bobs agreeably, flaring her fires for emphasis as Hashirama recalls his knocked out Chesnaught into its pokeball.

Tsunade seems supremely unconvinced but exchanges a look with her Blissey before patting its head and walking off.

Blissey utters a delighted sound, bounce-walking up to Obito and patting him on the arm before looking at Kamui. With a sing-song trill and an abrupt pulse of sparkly golden-pink light, the happy pokemon spreads a Heal Pulse through the nearby area, wafting Obito and Hashirama’s hair up as it spreads over all three of them, causing scrapes to fade and putting more color into Obito’s pale face.

Kamui shoots backwards, startled at the sudden Psychic move before abruptly chilling the entire area, glowing dark purple in irritation as the indefatigable Blissey simply bounces off after her trainer, completely unmoved and unaffected.

“Why did it hit us with the healing move?” Obito asks, looking incredulously at Hashirama. He stokes Kamui’s side as she cuddles next to him, still glaring after the pink pokemon.

“Well, it’s Tsunade,” Hashirama explains matter-of-factly, patting Obito on the shoulder and gesturing towards one of the arena openings before briefly waving up at one of the cameras filming the competition. “She has absolutely no faith in anyone’s assessment of their own health. It, uh, might have been a result of growing up around a lot of stubborn people. Besides—” Hashirama sends him a kind look “—you looked like you really needed it.”

“I’m fine,” Obito says surprised. Hashirama’s eyes flick tellingly over towards Kamui on Obito’s other side and the younger Uchiha stiffens before deliberately laying his hand flat against the blue-indigo sphere of the Chandelure’s body. “I’m fine,” he stresses, daring Hashirama to comment on Kamui or Obito’s frequent physical affection towards the Ghost.

Ghosts pokemon aren’t really well known or popular among trainers, and Litwick aren’t the most common to begin with. As a result, there aren’t a lot of people - especially in the Elemental region - who are closely familiar with Litwick’s evolutionary line. Most people had just thought Obito was weird as a kid when he walked around the big city with Kamui on his head. They hadn’t known all the stories about Litwick, and Kamui had been cute enough in her first stage that most people had dismissed how their own pokemon hadn’t liked the candle-shaped Ghost.

Frankly Obito prefers being overlooked compared to the other reactions that occur from informed individuals. He can still remember the hard, vicious look in Madara’s eyes when he had visited on Obito’s eighth birthday and caught sight of Kamui hanging around the house. Obito had had to tackle the twenty-year-old gym leader with all the force he could bring to bear to keep Madara from deploying Houndoom to kill her.

(( Obito can still hear echoes from the hours of worried screaming about life-force consuming ghosts and reckless brats playing chicken with death via potentially being stranded in the Ghost World.

That really hadn’t been fun. Madara is a terrifying asshole when it concerns his family. Kamui still won’t go near him or any of his pokemon to this day. It had turned Obito’s multiple challenges at the Naka gym into a giant obstacle. ))

“Kamui is a great pokemon,” Obito tells Hashirama, unwilling to budge from defending his oldest friend outside of Rin. “I didn’t need healing.”

Hashirama considers them both seriously as they arrive at one of the stadium’s field entrances before nodding. “I believe you,” the man accepts simply, brushing his long brown hair back and facing forward. “You would know her best. And you obviously have a very close bond considering how unique your fighting style is. I’ve never even heard of someone training a Ghost pokemon to deliberately open a otherworld gate! And during an actual battle, too!”

The Senju grins widely, sending Kamui an honestly impressed look. “That was extremely well done. Thank you for both for bringing my Trevenant back quickly, by the way.”

“You’re welcome. It’s not like we would ever leave another pokemon in the Ghost World after a fight has ended.”

Kamui makes a sound that can’t be described as anything but a disappointed mewl before clearly beginning to sulk, and Obito flushes as Hashirama laughs.

“Kamui!” Obito hisses, ears burning. “We would not leave someone in the Ghost World!” His Chandelure slowly rotates around in mid-air so that’s she’s facing away and Obito grabs her arms, quickly spinning her so he can look straight into her solid yellow eyes. “Kamui, you can’t just say things like that in front of a league champion!”

Hashirama’s boisterous chuckles echo through the hallway. “That’s alright. I’ve run into enough Ghosts to know that they aren’t all as nice as people would prefer. My Trevenant still likes to use Forest’s Curse on any fire pokemon in Tobirama’s research center whenever I send him to stay there temporarily. He thinks the best way to keep Fire pokemon from burning trees is to curse them with a temporary Grass type and then he laughs if they get burned from their own body heat. Your cousin Madara nearly strangled me with his bare hands once because of it after visiting the Valley.”

“That sounds like him,” Obito says flatly. “Why was he in River Valley?”

A strangely pained look flashes across Hashirama’s face. “I think he decided to drag Tobirama out early for their annual month-long vacation because of some persistent trainer on Naka Island. I try not to ask questions when my brother looks content. It usually involves answers I don’t want to know or dangerous research I wish he wouldn’t find interesting.”

Obito stares into thin air, trying to put ‘vacation’, 'content’, and Madara together with the reserved, intense professor who runs the River Valley Research Center. It doesn’t really sound plausible. It sounds even less so when he adds in Senju Tobirama’s second role as the water specialist in charge of the hellhole that is RVRC’s current pokemon gym.

(( Obito can always tell which of his fellow trainers have tried and failed to earn the Katon or Suiton badge within the last decade. Not a single one of them ever believes he earned either badge until they see them for themselves. ))

“So,” Obito says abruptly, trying to stave off any flashbacks to red eyes, slight smirks, or nightmarish water-themed obstacle courses, “what happens now?”

“Now we wait about thirty minutes until the closing ceremony starts, and then you’ll be given your own champion badge at the end of it regardless of whether or not you accept the title. Everything else in the ceremony stays the same as was described in the pamphlet you received at the tournament’s registration desk.”

“Do I need to do anything as champion?” Obito asks, looking at Kamui and feeling another minor rush all over again at their victory.

Hashirama waves a hand. “The only thing champions are required to do after the ceremony is to return to Summit Plateau every three years to participate in the Championship Conference and potentially defend your title. If you don’t accept the title, you don’t have to return though.”

There is no way in hell Obito would ever not accept, but: “It’s a little strange to think you won’t be in the tournament anymore.” He rubs his neck, looking up at Hashirama. “Some of your fights were really incredible. I still have a recording of your one with Madara when you were both in the finals of your own Champ Conference.”

Hashirama hums, remembering that fight years ago. “You know, Obito - and don’t tell Hiruzen this since he was an Elite Four member at the time - but I think Madara was the hardest fight out of that entire tournament. I probably wouldn’t have won against his Fire pokemon at all if I hadn’t grown up with him and known him so well.”

“It was a really satisfying battle to watch,” Obito compliments, fighting back a smirk.

And it was! Not because Madara had lost (although Obito will admit to having rewatched that fight a few times out of petty spite rather than studying their strategy), but because it’s always amazing to see a high level specialist manage a win against someone who specializes in pokemon with a type advantage. It takes a lot of skill and strategy to do that when both trainers have pokemon in the same power bracket. Madara’s fights against Tobirama’s Water pokemon or Tobirama’s against Izuna’s Electric types are just as impressive.

“Well I’m sure there will be several interesting battles in the next Conference, and you’ll be able to see those in person as a tournament participant.” Hashirama opens the door to a small employee break room. “How does getting a snack sound?”

“Sure. Although…” Obito trails off, holding the door open for Kamui who decides to just phase through it and him because his girl is a little shit sometimes and likes to make him shiver. “Does that mean you plan to compete in the next Conference?”

Obito will get to be champion for a very short period if so unless he continues to work his ass off.

“No, but I’ll be a member of the Elite Four next time. Donut?”

“Who’s leaving?” Obito asks, accepting the paper box and picking up a chocolate covered Long John as Hashirama takes a bite out of a pink, sprinkle-covered monstrosity.

The older man swallows. “Indra and Ashura want to step down so they can go on a longer travel trip and maybe move to another region. We were actually going to ask you if you wanted one of their positions so long as you defeated Minato’s Flying types and Hiruzen’s Fighters during the championship, but since you won, I’ll take one of the empty positions instead.”

“You, you wanted to ask me? Right away? Before the tournament?” Obito stares, a smear of chocolate stuck unnoticed at the corner of his mouth.

“Of course!” Hashirama declares, eyes crinkling from the force of his wide smile. “League rules require any new Elite Four members to have defeated at least two prior members before the league can offer them a full-time employment contract given the prestige and responsibility of the position. Since you won and I’m no longer champion regardless of whether you accept it or not, I can now fill an Elite position instead. However, there aren’t a lot of trainers in the Archipelago who meet those qualifications. And several of those that do don’t want to sign up for a different league career.”

“Right,” Obito nods, mentally thumbing through the list of all the past competitors that he remembers. A lot of Championship Conferences tend to end after the first Elite battle rather than making it all the way to the champion. Especially if the randomizer draws out Indra or Ashura’s name for the first slot. It’s why tournament publicizes the elimination matches between the Regional League’s winners and runner-ups: a single competitor losing a single fight doesn’t make for good television even if the fight is amazing. A few challengers manage to get to a second or third Elite round if the draw picks Hiruzen or Minato first, but Obito’s pretty sure Kakashi was the first challenger since Senju Tobirama to get past both the Ōtsutsuki brothers.

Given that the last person to manage that before Tobirama was Madara - who stopped competing in tournaments after he took over the Naka gym - the League really must have a short list of possible candidates for the Elite.

“Why me though?” Obito questions after he finishes off the last of his donut. “Wouldn’t I have the least seniority of anyone who qualifies? Kakashi for example—”

“We don’t choose based on seniority,” Hashirama interrupts, offering Kamui a glazed donut when she investigates the box. “We go by the number of victories first - whoever manages to defeat the most Elite Four - but after that the offer is a group decision. We tried offering it to Madara months ago because he’s certainly champion level, but he laughed in my face at the idea of leaving the Naka gym before he had a decent successor and then refused to pick up any more League calls until we dropped it.”

“I’m pretty sure I can convince Tobirama to take the remaining position if I ambush him correctly,” Hashirama continues, speaking more to the ceiling than Obito, “but only if it doesn’t interfere with his research at the RVRC. We might actually get more people applying to the Regionals with Suiton badges if he passes on the gym leadership. You’re the first person in a decade to have every badge from the Elemental Archipelago, you know? It’s really impressive actually. It’s why we wanted you for an Elite position.”

“I’m what?” Obito yelps. “But! But how?”

“A lot of people stop at eight badges that are needed for the Regional requirements. It’s an amazing sign of dedication and will that you achieved badges from all the currently accredited gyms.”

“It’s a sign of Madara being an asshole!” Obito flails loudly, immediately getting an enthusiastic trill of an agreement from Kamui. “Do you know what he did! It’s not bad enough that he neatly avoids any challenging trainer for a solid week before agreeing to battle them, but every time I lost trying to get the Katon badge, that— that jerk said 'better get more practice’ and then had his Arcanine use Teleport to dump me in a completely different city in front of a gym I hadn’t fought yet! He taught an Arcanine Teleport just to be an asshole! Who even teaches non-Psychics TELEPORT!”

Hashirama smirked. He smirked, Obito thinks, speechlessly outraged as he catches the Senju’s brief expression before the Grass specialist rapidly switches to friendly reassurance. “I’m sure he wasn’t doing it to be an asshole, young Obito,” Hashirama soothes as Obito remembers and then rapidly reassesses what it means that this guy is Madara’s best friend. “Teleport is a very convenient Move! My brother Tobirama taught it to his Cloister when he was only twelve and Madara’s Arcanine has known it almost as long. I’m sure Madara was only trying to help you in his own way. Look at how far you’ve gotten!”

“…Are you actually trying to convince me that my cousin doesn’t enjoy being an asshole?” Obito asks flatly. “Because you can’t tell me he doesn’t enjoy making trainers wait a week in his gym doing chores whenever they want a Katon badge.”

“He’s testing their patience,” Hashirama claims with a charismatic smile that Obito is no longer sure he trusts. “Lots of gym leaders test for more qualities than simply having powerful pokemon. Hiashi tests for attention to detail, Gai tests for enthusiasm, and Tobirama tests for a trainer’s willingness to work hard independent of their pokemon. You see what I mean!”

“You’ve never gone through your brother’s obstacle course, have you?” Obito questions dryly, remembering Madara’s surprised pride when Obito had bared his teeth at him a month ago and presented a case with every last badge in the region outside of the Katon badge.

“Anyway!” Hashirama goes on earnestly. “Since we haven’t had more than a handful of trainers achieve both the Katon and Suiton badges since Tobirama and Madara took over, never mind the entire set of Elemental badges, we decided you were our first choice if you qualified. And the offer will continue to be open to you in the future if you ever step down as champion. Even if the positions are all filled, you’ll always be qualified to challenge an Elite for their title.”

“Right…” Obito murmurs, patting Kamui’s smooth arm as the Chandelure nudges him, trying to imagine what it would be like to be an Elite working for the Elemental Pokemon League. He’d always wanted to be champion, to achieve the highest recognition a competitive pokemon trainer could attain, but champion is more of an honorary title. A champion has to sign an individual contract if they want to work for the League, but an Elite is an actual job with a variety of possible duties and different kind of respect because of it.

It’s kind of strange… Obito had always thought about being champion but never about being an Elite. If anyone his age was going to become one, he’d always imagined it would be Kakashi. Rin, too, of course because Rin would never be anything less than awesome, but Rin had always been more interested in the traveling part of a pokemon journey rather than the competitive fights and—

Wait.

“You said I was the only one with all the badges,” Obito says, eyes narrowing in thought. “Didn’t Hatake Kakashi have them all when he challenged you three years ago?”

“No, he registered without the Katon and Doton badges,” Hashirama answers absently, opening a bottle of tea. “Persistent fellow though. Apparently he showed up on Naka Island at the beginning of Madara’s vacation and proceeded to question every person who might possibly know how to contact the Fire gym’s leader. I still don’t know how he managed to track down my phone number to ask me about it. He probably would have waited the entire month on the island if he hadn’t accidentally annoyed Izuna one too many times and gotten Emolga sicced on him for a week.”

“We are going to Kick Bakashi’s ASS,” Obito declares, clenching his fist and staring at Kamui with fire in his eyes, remembering the cocky tilt of Kakashi’s head when they had been twelve and how the Hatake had claimed he’d found Madara an irritating challenge but not a fight worth remembering. And then he’d taunted Obito, betting that the older brunet boy wouldn’t collect anything more than the standard eight badges and probably just the ones from easy gyms.

Obito had spent years putting up with Madara dumping him all over the region, determined to get that Katon badge before his first tournament so that he could match Kakashi’s record, even after Izuna had laughed and told him it was okay to wait a few years to get more experience like most Uchiha do, and that silver-haired asshole hadn’t even had the badge!

“-lure, -lure, chandeluuuure,” Kamui sings in her creepiest tone, swinging back and forth like a pendulum as her indigo flames dance and wave hypnotically, eerie purple energy pulsing around her ghostly form.

“Great idea!” Obito agrees fervently, forgetting about Hashirama as he turns to leave the room. “We’ll wait until night and then get him. So attend ceremony, find grandma, thank Rin, and then punch Kakashi in the nose with more to come later!”

… I think I see a bit of a family resemblance, Hashirama thinks silently, following the angry teen and his unnervingly delighted Fire-Ghost back out into the stadium.

At least they won’t be filming anything live after the ceremony concludes.

~.~

AO3 link [with formatting]

[wonderlings]

TAGGED

I got tagged by @firstlovemv for the ‘Get to Know Me’ Tag thank you so much for the tag💕💕

Name: Ashlyn

Gender: Female

Star sign: Aries

Height: just a bit under 5′4

Middle name: Camacho

Put your iTunes on Shuffle. What are the first 6 songs that popped up?

Lost Stars - Adam Levine

Sad Songs - The Maine

We Don’t Talk Anymore (pt.2) - JK and JM

When The Cherry Blossoms Fade - I.O.I

The Fault In Our Stars - Troye Sivan

REALLY REALLY - WINNER

Grab the book nearest to you and turn to page 23. What’s line 17? “the best evolutionary psychology acknowledges this while insisting that we understand evolutionary roots of behaviour..” lmao this is from my textbook

Ever had a poem or song written about you? actually yeah! my ex girlfriend wrote me a song when we were dating, honestly it was the cutest thing

When was the last time you played air guitar? lmaoo not to long ago

Who is your celebrity crush? ofc kim taehyung 

What’s a sound you hate/love?

Hate: squeaky pens, the high pitch noise you can sorta hear when the tv is on but nothing is playing, loud bad quality speakers, literally all the tapping noises my apartment makes

Love: Wind chimes, at concerts when the crowd sings all together, the ukulele and violin, tae’s deep voice, jungkook’s high pitch airy singing, background coffee shop noise, babies giggling, sound of waves on the shore

Do you believe in ghosts? oml yes

Do you drive? If so have you ever crashed? aha whoops no i still dont even have my learners

What was the last book you read? Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

Do you like the smell of gasoline? not particulalry

What was the last movie you saw? The Internship

What’s the worst injury you’ve ever had? One time stepped on a nail that was sticking out of a board, and then sprained my ankle on the same foot a week later

Do you have any obsessions right now? lmao bts as per usual

Do you tend to hold grudges against people who have done you wrong? i don’t think so, at least not angry ones at least, just grudges that won’t go away even if i want them to

In a relationship? aha nope

im not gonna tag anyone atm but if anyone else wants to do this free free <33

[rantsandaves]

Audubon's Oriole & South Texas

Despite the cold, frigid beauty of Minnesota, Texas was calling my name. It was time to unthaw and pick up the birds I had missed during my first visit to the Lone Star State.

I left Duluth and drove down to Clear Lake, Iowa where a rare Yellow-billed loon had been reported. I arrived to be greeted by a nice winter chill and biting breeze. As I set up my scope at Clear Lake State Park, I was approached by a kind woman who invited me to bird with her group closer to the visitor's center and out of the wind. She introduced herself as Carolyn Fischer. I couldn't understand why that name seemed familiar until she informed me that she was the person who had originally found and reported the loon! I must've seen her name mentioned on the ABA rare bird alert. She had even better pictures on her phone than the ones posted on the ABA report, confirming that it was indeed a Yellow-billed Loon and not some distorted digiscoped photo of a Common Loon. We spent the day birding around the lake, but no Yellow-billed Loon was seen. 

I usually don't tell other people that I'm attempting a big year, mostly because I don't want to give anyone the impression even for a second that I might be a good birder or that I know what the hell I'm doing. But I told Carolyn and I'm glad I did. As we went our separate ways, she asked me if I was warm enough, gave me a hug and told me she admired what I am doing. It's moments like these-- moments where people I hardly know go out of their way to be so kind-- that help keep me going. I camped near the lake, and despite the freezing temperatures, I felt warm the whole night. 

From Iowa, I went to Nebraska as I considered the best way to navigate down south and to get a tire patched. I took this opportunity to meet a long-time friend who lives near Omaha. Robb and I had been internet friends since 2010 and although we were meeting for the first time, it felt as though we were being reunited. I took the truck in the next day and after waiting for many hours, they told me the tire looked good and sent me on my way. 

I beelined it from Omaha to Mississippi, making a short pit-stop in Penn-Sylvania Prairie in Missouri for a Smith's Longspur. As I walked through the prairie, it was quiet and calm in a way I had never experienced. It was hauntingly lonely and thrillingly freeing with no one around as far as I could see. The birds jumped up through the grass, reminding me of the way the grasshoppers in the Arizona summer fling themselves from the pathways away from your feet. 

Almost as soon as I crossed the state line from Arkansas to Mississippi, I was greeted by the balmy southern humidity. Back in Biloxi for the second time this year, I was able to see Mississippi's first state record of a Smooth-billed Ani! 

From Biloxi, I went west to New Orleans. I was magically able to get ahold of my difficult-to-find (more difficult than a rare bird!) cousin Ashley again. While I waited for her to get out of work, I birded the Lake Pontchartrain Causeway in hopes of finding at least one of the Brown Boobies that had been reported around the lake. The Causeway is the largest bridge over water in the world, with two parallel bridges going north and south about 24 miles long. The northbound and southbound bridges have a few crossovers meant for emergency use only. These crossovers are not meant for watching birds, as I was kindly informed by a uniformed officer. 

I met up with Ashley who serendipitously had an extra ticket to see the band Grizzly Bear. We had a great night (maybe too great) and the next morning I tried again for the Boobies. I noticed that the two of the crossovers now had police cars parked, either waiting to catch speeders or help those with an actual emergency, but there were two empty ones so I could turn around and change direction without having to repay the toll. I drove for what seemed like forever up and down the causeway, when I finally found one Brown Booby at mile marker 16. There was no way for me to stop, but I'm sure I managed to frustrate the drivers behind me as I drove slowly to watch the Booby fly out of sight. 

I tried for Yellow Rails on my way out of Louisiana, and again at Anahuac when I arrived in Texas, but was disappointed. I found out about the Rice and Yellow Rail festival (Yellow Rail almost guaranteed!) about two days too late.

I drove through Texas the opposite direction from my very first visit, going from east to west. Driving through Houston to Aransas National Wildlife Refuge made real the photos and videos I had seen just a few months prior depicting the mark Hurricane Harvey had left on the area. The Aransas NWR visitors center was closed indefinitely due to the damage, but the refuge was still open to visitors. 

The first time I visited Aransas was in April. At that time, I had been on the road for a month and I was still processing how exactly to navigate this journey on my own. I was struggling with learning how to be a better birder, with learning how to be self-sufficient, and with my anxiety.  Aransas showed me Whooping Cranes for the first time in my life. These Cranes represented a story of fragile beauty, and I felt angry at my own species for letting these birds get so close to extinction. I remember trying to process all these emotions while sitting under Aransas' five hundred year old oak tree, staring at the Gulf of Mexico. I remember taking a deep breath and feeling so small by comparison to the sea, the tree, and the evolutionary history of the creatures of earth. And despite the chaos, I felt at peace. 

I had to visit the tree again. As I rounded the corner, noticing the other fallen oaks, I hoped with all my might it was still standing. And although the mustang vines covering the tree had been damaged, the old oak still stood. I sat like I did in April and I took a deep breath. Staring out at the sea again, surrounded by the damage of an unthinkably powerful hurricane, I thought about the role humans play in the ecological community. I wonder if we can save ourselves the way we saved the cranes. 

I met up with a fellow female solo traveler I had met in North Carolina. We got Tex Mex in her hometown of Corpus Christi and reminisced on our separate journeys. Afterwards, I set up camp on Padre Island National Seashore and fell asleep to the sound of the waves breaking about thirty feet away.  

Time birding in South Texas is always well spent. To me, it's paradise. I love the bright and vibrant Green Jays, the clamoring of the Chachalacas, and the almost overwhelming biodiversity. I was finally able to see Altamira Orioles and Clay-colored Thrushes-- two fairly common Rio Grande Valley birds that somehow eluded me on my first trip. I spent just over a week in the RGV and was rewarded with Sprague's' Pipit, and White-collared Seedeater fairly easily.

The Tamaulipas Crow is a Mexican native making in a rare return to South Texas for the time being, and a few had been spotted hanging out at the Brownsville Landfill. There is a strange symbiosis between the landfill and birders-- the Brownsville Sanitary Landfill allows birders into the dump to hang out and watch birds. I'm sure the sanitation department doesn't fully understand why people want to hang out there, and I'm not sure I understand why the dump lets people hang out there. To me it seems like a lawsuit waiting to happen, but then again this is Texas and not California.

I arrived late one afternoon and hung around until sunset with no views of the crow. On the second morning, just after sunrise, I arrived to see birders up on the hill waving me down. I had just driven past the Tamaulipas Crow! I parked as safely as I could away from the garbage trucks and plow-tractors and snagged a few photos. 

Although my trip to the RGV was highly successful, it was not without its frustrations. It took five separate attempts for me to see a Tropical Parula. I also spent many hours on several beautiful, clear days trying to turn hawks into Hook-billed Kites but my willpower alone could not do the trick. I tried to chase a reported Rose-breasted Becard to make up for the one I missed in AZ. I hoped for late Groove-billed Ani in Harlingen but no luck there either. And although it would've been an extremely lucky find, I still kept my eye out for Red-billed Pigeons. 

The highlight of this South Texas trip was the secretive Audubon's Oriole- a bird whose northernmost range extends slightly into South Texas. On my second to last day in the valley, I traveled an hour northwest to Salineño, a spot right next to the Rio Grande known to attract the Audubon's. I spent a few hours waiting at the feeders with a birder named Mike. We watched the Green Jays and the Kiskadees mill around. An occasional Sharp-shinned Hawk would fly in to try to snag a Red-winged Blackbird and stir things up. As we watched, Mike and I talked about big year birders, about being traveling bird bums, and about listing as a hobby. Although I didn't get the Audubon's that day, it was an extremely rewarding experience.

I drove back to my airbnb in McAllen for the night and in the morning I tried again for the Audubon's, but this time a little closer.  Birders I had met at the landfill told me they had seen an Audubon's Oriole hanging around the National Butterfly Center just a few miles down the road from where I was staying. I had visited there once before and decided to give it one more shot!

When I arrived, another birder told me he had seen the Audubon's Oriole the day prior, and it was hanging around with an Altamira Oriole. I hiked all around the property, looking at butterflies and although I didn't know their names I admired them all the same.  I sat by the bird feeder station and watched the grackles and house sparrows duke it out over scattered seed. All of a sudden there was a flash of orange-- an Altamira Oriole! My heart started racing. Maybe the Audubon's is close by! I waited patiently and watched the Altamira fly north along the path. I quietly and slowly followed, but lost it. I stood in silence for a second then I heard an Oriole calling. It sounded more forlorn than an Altamira. I turned the corner and there it was, picking at the old fruit that was set out to attract butterflies! It stood still long enough for a photo and I was ecstatic. I watched it for a bit as it was following two Altamira Orioles around the gardens. Occasionally one of the Altamira's would try to chase it off and the Audubon would give a sad-sounding call. I know this is anthropomorphism, but I wanted to tell the Altamira to knock it off, leave the poor guy alone! But birds will be birds. 

[nuzblog]

As promised, what follows are my thoughts on the 151 Pokemon in Gen 1 that I have something to say about.

#001: Bulbasaur I really appreciate this guy's concept. Reptomammals are dope and that's pretty much definitely what it is, and the concept of a plant and animal reaching this sort of symbiosis is definitely really awesome. The fact that Bulbasaur manages that while also being beautifully simply is great. Bulbasaur is great, and very good, conceptually. That said, I feel his design and especially his evolutions' designs are missing something somehow. Perhaps it's that the animal half of the pair is so plain? Perhaps it's that as it evolves, it only becomes uglier but not particularly cooler? I'm unsure. I do love them, but they aren't my favorite starter in this generation.

#008 Wartortle This guy is. Yes, the middle form. I love middle forms so much. Now, Squirtle itself is pretty simple. A tortoise that shoots water, big whoop, right. And I can agree with that. But Wartortle brings it to the next level. Besides getting a clear and distinct attitude, it also gets these beautiful ears and tail, that flow so elegantly with its design. They're definitely referential to the minogame, the legendary 10,000 year old Japanese turtle with a tail made of seaweed, likely a legend spawned by turtles that would swim through seaweed and carry it with them. The coloration and pattern of Wartortle's "fur" also makes it look like seafoam, and its Hermes-esque ears and trail of seafoam are the perfect fit for a fast swimmer like Wartortle.

#010-#015 Caterpie, Metapod, Butterfree, Weedle, Kakuna, Beedrill I really love the "larva-chrysalis-adult" evolution line as the game's tutorial for the mechanic of evolution, and I think having Pokemon that follow that evolution pattern so early in the game that evolve so quickly is a frankly brilliant design decision. I think here is the place that makes most clear that Pokemon's original inspiration was insect collection. The subversion of expectations with Beedrill is great too. I could mention other things about these guys, like how Caterpie is straight up a faithful recreation of a real life caterpillar, and how Kakuna has arms, but my main point is that these guys fill a great gameplay purpose. My only thing - they don't necessarily need to be Bug type insects every time, do they? Bagon in Gen 3 has already shown that insects aren't the only ones that follow the same evolution pattern. I'd be interested to see some other type of creature follow the same evolutionary pattern.

#024 Arbok Why doesn't Arbok's hood have different designs depending on what region it's caught in? They stopped even giving it different hoods based on the game it's currently in. That's so lame, yo.

#042 Golbat I don't... hate Golbat. I think his giant mouth is fantastic. But... it also loses Zubat's fantastic lack of eyes, AND after R/B it loses its fantastic giant tongue and tiny squinty eyes, the best alternative to no eyes for a bat. Like... what happened? Where did all of Zubat's charm go?

#047 Parasect This is my favorite Pokemon in Gen 1. Cordyceps is basically my favorite fungus, and I urge you to look into it as the real world basis for Parasect if you're unfamiliar. I also love that Paras is like... it's like a cicada with mushrooms on its back, but it seems like a sort of symbiosis, right, like Bulbasaur. But instead of growing together, Paras' growth is stunted and its brain emptied, its eyes losing their pupils to signify that it has become completely zombified as a puppet of this fungus that has grown through its body. This is the first hint in the Pokedex that Pokemon are actually absolutely horrifying, and I love it. I love it so, so much.

#050 Diglett I find the simplicity in Diglett's design absolutely perfect. It has exactly as many features as it would ever need, and it does exactly what you'd think it would. The fact that it's more of a whac-a-mole than an actual mole is brilliant to me, and I find the "what's it got underground" mystery absolutely brilliant as a design decision.

#061 Poliwhirl Neoteny ahoy! I love the Poli line's tummy swirls, but even more, I love that Poliwhirl and Poliwrath are neotenous tadpoles, the exact opposite of what you'd expect from a game where just 50 Pokemon ago, real life metamorphasis was serving as the inspiration for an evolution family. Like, tadpoles are the second most instantly recognizable creatures that exhibit metamorphasis, and yet, these ones don't. And their visible intestines!!! So good. Such perfectly simple designs.

#069-#071 Bellsprout, Weepinbell, Victreebel Pitcher plants are awesome and these guys bear the perfect resemblance to them. I love that Weepinbell is more of a trap than a creature, with its tree hanging hook and its acid-slobbering mouth. I love that Bellsprout is a walking nozzle thing on these flimsy looking root limbs. I love Victreebel's angler lure, and understated teeth. I love that James had one that kept trying to digest him. I just... this guy rules.

#083 Farfetch'd "A duck comes bearing green onions" is an approximate translation of a Japanese phrase with two separate meanings: a fortuitous but unlikely happenstance (such as, while starving in the woods, having a duck approach you holding the perfect garnish for duck soup), and a fool ready to be taken advantage of (such as the duck itself, offering you green onions while being clueless to its own implied demise.) Farfetch'd is, fascinatingly enough, BOTH - it is an incredibly rare Pokemon granted to you in exchange for a very common Pokemon... but it is also a fairly weak Pokemon with low stats that is foisted upon you in exchange for a Pokemon that can yet evolve to greater power. Absolutely brilliant.

#091 Cloyster Okay, so, I've danced around this topic with the name Okeefe for my Sheller, but like... let's be real here. Cloyster looks exactly like a vulva. Some people might list this as a bad thing about Cloyster... but I would not. I think it's great.

#108 Lickitung Why don't more Pokemon have giant tongues? Anyway this guy rules.

#122 Mr. Mime This thing is so creepy... I love it. It's like a horrible marionette, and it takes mime powers literally by turning moves like light screen into the gimmick of the Pokemon. Its weird joints and suckered fingers are so brilliant and just... augh it makes my skin crawl in the most perfect way.

#124 Jynx Okay, so, here's the thing. Yes, Jynx definitely uses the same racist shorthand as minstrel shows or DBZ's Mr. Popo, and that's awful and changing it was a good decision. But beyond that, Jynx is also an aquatic seeming creature (given its fins, at least) that has long human like hair, and a body that resembles a long flowing dress, and has pretty plain breasts. It's also a creature that sings and dances and gyrates to manipulate minds. In other words, it's a SIREN, and not only that, but it's a siren that, rather than being some kind of pretty fish lady, looks to me a lot like a mollusc of some kind. There's so many parts of its lore that fascinate me, like its speech that supposedly closely resembles human speech but is in no recognizable language. Oh, and it also looks like an opera singer, and also some people seem to think it resembles a certain yokai (even though the only reference to some of the traits used to justify that resemblance seem to have been made up by the Pokemon fans trying to justify the comparison.) And, just as a side note, I think the fact that this mollusc, in trying to seduce humans, decided the most beautiful form it could try to emulate would be that of a short and rotund person of color is pretty fantastic. Like, yes, that absolutely is the pinnacle of human beauty, thank you for noticing, Jynx. Just, please do try to look a little less like a thing humans do to be racist.

#126 Magmar Boober.

#137 Porygon It is a tragedy that this guy has been basically banned from anime, since it's such an appealing design motif. Computer generated graphics as a concept for a Pokemon is clever in itself, and like... it's a weird red and blue duck thing! And it's so blocky and weird! I love it.

I actually had less to say about a lot of these guys than I thought I would. Let's real quick go over my top ten Pokemon in the gen:

#1. Parasect #2. Porygon #3. Victreebel #4. Scyther #5. Paras #6. Grimer #7. Diglett #8. Jynx #9. Cubone #10. Weezing

At least, last time I listed them out. This seems about right to me.

Anyway, that's my thoughts on the Pokemon of Gen 1. Maybe some day I'll talk about some others? But that's as much as I think I needed to before starting Gen 2.

Speaking of, I've already started playing Silver. Not sure when I'm gonna write and post that update though. I still have another entry for Blue in the process of being made still.