victory_road | Expanding Horizons (OTA Catchall)

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Expanding Horizons (OTA Catchall)

Who: Bucky Barnes AKA the Winter Soldier, and OPEN
Where: Routes 30 and 31, then Violet City as of 6/12
When: June 9 - 16, next leg of the journey!
Summary: Traveling with friends and finally hitting the city! Because Buck needs more CR and he refuses to engage with the network...
Rating: PG-13 for the swearing again

I. On the Road; Routes 30 and 31, June 9 - 11

It’s a longer trip from Cherrygrove to Violet City, the next location on the map, but it’s not an unpleasant trip. There are eggs to carry-- and to collect, as a large bird pokemon drops some off for the Soldier and Entrapta a day out of Cherrygrove-- and new pokemon to marvel at. The device is actually really useful, and the Soldier is pretty sure he has both books memorized now, even if he keeps looking things up.

This is the new mission. It’s a better one than the last one. He might be starting to relax a little, but he’s still not sure how to smile.

The campfire is comfortable, though, as they sit around it and read, write, pet and groom pokemon, or talk. (Well. Mostly listen to Entrapta talk.) The Soldier discovers the radio, at which point he discovers that everyone can hear that weird music everywhere and it’s not just his brain being crazy, and at further point he discovers jazz. Which is the best thing ever, maybe even better than Grace (Sorry, doll.), and Entrapta and Link will have to make him change the station or turn it off when they get sick of it.

II. Catching, Take Two; Route 31, June 11

It takes the Soldier almost until they reach Violet City to try the pokeball thing again. This time, though, he crouches down next to the absolutely adorable little Espurr once Grace and the Starly (who is now a Starava, that was a fun experience) are sitting on her, and wave them off. And he offers the ball, instead of throwing it, silent but inviting.

He’s gonna let them choose, going forward. It only seems fair. Nobody should not be allowed to choose. (Not anymore.)

III. Townie Life; Violet City, June 12 - 16

It’s a nice little city. He keeps thinking the buildings should be a little taller. A slightly different style. Dirtier, maybe. But the feeling of more people around him feels right, and if he closes his eyes, listening and breathing in the smell, he almost feels at home.

He and Entrapta stay at the pokemon training center, because one, it’s the cheapest option besides camping out, and two, there’s shit to learn there. He can be found making notes in a new notebook before, during, and after lessons (And damn do we feel old, surrounded by all those teenagers.), pacing around the town itself in a kind of leisurely patrol, or sitting somewhere in the sun just taking in the sights.

Or chasing down pokemon babies. He’s got a handful of those.

IV. Babies; Violet City, June 12 - 16

Very young pokemon are difficult to keep track of, as it turns out. They’re like unruly children, who happen to be even smaller than regular children. And the Soldier has three of them to keep track of-- four, if Entrapta’s little Growlithe cub is in the mix. It’s like trying to keep track of the girls, only worse. (What girls?)

First, there’s the Skitty, Fuzzlebutt, who refuses to grow up yet, though not from lack of trying to get new experiences. Most of those experiences consist of biting, chewing on people’s shoes, and pouncing whatever pokemon he can find. He might be small for his type and age, but he makes up for it in energy and aggression.

Second, there’s the Rockruff, hatched on the road on the way to Violet City, who is much friendlier than Fuzzle but also much louder, and just as energetic. She keeps bounding up to people, barking, “Rockruff! Rockruff! Rock! Ruff! Ruff!” while the Soldier chases after her anxiously, apologizing.

Third, there’s little Stevie, a barely-hatched baby Absol who keeps tripping on his own over-sized paws and landing face-first into something pointy, or chasing after pidgies until they swarm him, or trying to keep up with the other two when he’s smaller and weaker and clearly a little runty. He stumbles over a passer-by’s feet or catches their pants leg or skirt to stop them from stepping in a puddle or to try and herd them this way or that or just in an excess of energy. The Soldier comes to collect him with a sigh and another apology.

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The rockruff, sadly, was not here to play, she was just here to say "hi". She play-bows at Misty, fluffy tail wagging, looking up at the Skitty with a happy sort of expression and perked ears.

It's the Soldier who collects Fuzzle, though, not Grace, who just sits her butt down and watches indulgently. "You're supposed to be helping," the Soldier tells her, picking Fuzzle right up with a hand under his belly, while Stevie struggles against his metal grip.

Grace yawns.

The Soldier, looking vaguely put upon, tells Cassandra, "Sorry. I have to get better at this."

Misty Malarkey studies the Rockruff thoughtfully, then bats a nearby stone at it - not hard enough to hit or hurt, but enough to emphasize the motion. Play?

"It's a lot to get used to," Cassandra says diplomatically, although truthfully she thinks she's had a relatively easy time of it. It does make her worry a bit about Blade, though, because while Cassandra's not sure what qualifies as 'normal' behavior for Type: Nulls, it does seem awfully withdrawn sometimes.

Not all pokemon are as outgoing as this bunch. The Soldier has an Espurr who is exceedingly shy, and Grace is pretty laid-back herself. It's just... babies. Exciteable, aggressive, and aggressively friendly babies.

Finally getting the idea, the rockruff perks up and pounces the rock, batting it back in Misty's direction. Her aim is not great, as she is not even a week old at this point, but she's trying!

The Soldier watches warily, in case he needs to collect her, too, but a sliver of his attention is on Blade, too. He's done a lot of reading and scrolling through the pokedex, and that's not a type he's seen before. "Can I ask." He stops, feeling self-conscious. He's not supposed to ask questions, not supposed to take interest in things belonging to strangers. Grace nudges his hip lightly, Stevie stops struggling, and Fuzzle makes an annoyed growl at being unable to get at his target.

He tries again. "Can I ask what kind of pokemon that is?"

Cassandra does have a few more Pokemon, but they're resting, and it seems cruel to just let the Magikarp flop around on land in any case.

The Rockruff's aim may not be the best, but Misty Malarkey is delighted nonetheless. Yes! Play!

Cassandra watches Misty Malarkey and the Rockruff for a moment before turning her attention back to the man and his question. "It's a Type: Null," she tells him. She raises a hand to carefully stroke Blade's mane, below the mask. "Someone told me SilphCo has an adoption center for them; according to the PokeGear, they were... made."

Recognizing the signs of a positive reaction after dealing with both Fuzzlebutt and Entrapta's Nancy, the rockruff yaps excitedly and dances around poor Misty, half poking at her with her nose. Come play her way, Misty! Or bat the twig or rock around again for her to catch, that works, too.

The Soldier only has a little bit of attention on them, now, because he's staring a little in Cassandra's general direction. Because, well. He was "made", too. He knows this. He even feels like he looks as odd as the Null pokemon, with his shiny arm and inability to smile anymore. "Made. They. Why?"

But batting things around is fun... :(

"As a weapon, originally." And Cassandra understands that feeling all too well. "The mask is supposed to contain its power so it doesn't rampage."

Bucky can probably see from her expression that the thought makes her sad, and tell from her voice that there's a deeper upset underlying it, though she otherwise appears calm.

The gears in the metal arm buzz at the word "weapon", and little Stevie squeaks until he makes his fingers loosen up again, making an apologetic little noise for holding him too tight.

Jesus. Taking perfectly good, cute, mostly-friendly little creatures and changing them. Taking their habit of fighting and making it worse. (Sounds familiar, don't it.) Christ. He shuts his eyes a moment, letting Stevie wriggle up until he's on his shoulder, Fuzzle finally giving up in his flesh hand and Grace leaning hard against his leg. She knows; he made a point to tell her what all he knows of his purpose, in case it made her want to chose another partner. It didn't.

"People are the same fucking everywhere," he says, maybe a little bitterly. "Are they still being made? Do you know? Or did that get shut down?"

Oblivious to her human caretaker's distress, the rockruff noses the rock in Misty's direction again. Batting is fine! That's okay too! Just play, kitty-friend!

Batting things is fun, and Misty Malarkey has almost uncannily good aim, but out of respect for new friend she is going to be both gentle and patient. She bats the rock back at the Rockruff, slow enough for her to catch and return it if she so chooses.

"I don't know," Cassandra admits. "There's a company that adopts existing ones out for... rehabilitation, I think? I don't think Blade came from there, so I don't know as much about it." Honestly, it wouldn't surprise her if they were still being made somewhere; humans— people are like that.

Clearly he has some research to do. He locks down the reaction again, takes a slow breath until he can be polite and neutral again; no need to get all crazy. More crazy. Whatever. "Thank you for telling me, ma'am."

Stevie tries poking his little nose in his ear, making him twitch and hunch down to protect it. "Hey. Hey, cut that-- Stevie, stop." Down off his shoulder the little guy comes again, but he seems content now to settle in the crook of his arm. Giving Cassandra another apologetic look, he makes at least a cursory attempt at looking normal. "Not a native?"

The ears kinda give it away.

The pup has no aim whatsoever, practically, and winds up swatting the rock well to Misty Malarkey's right, and then charges after it to collect it for her. The bat back from that angle is slightly more accurate. Slightly.

"There's a lot I don't know about this place yet," Cassandra admits (which also answers his next question) "so I'm not sure how prevalent practices like this are, or how much the people here know about them. I got Blade from the woman in New Bark Town, but I don't know where she got it. Most people who have Type: Nulls get them from the adoption place" —can they properly be called an orphanage if it's just for created pokemon?— "in Saffron City. At least, that's what the man I talked to said."

And that, her ears, and the silver sheen in her eyes probably all establish that she's not a native, but she'll answer his question anyway. "Not a native."

Well... it's a start. Misty Malarkey is not going to judge. She will move her paw more slowly so the Rockruff can study her movements while she bats the rock back, though.

"Me, neither." The metal arm probably gives that away, and the tac vest under the jacket he has halfway to hide the metal arm, even though it keeps cutting through the fabric so metal glints through.

He files all that neatly away to look up later. Saffron City isn't on the map of Johto he has on the device, so it must be in one of the other areas.

"So we all meet that woman, I guess," he says slowly. "I got an Absol from her. Grace." He settles Fuzzlebutt on his other shoulder so he can lay a hand on Grace's head, behind the curved horn. "Only been two weeks, so far."

It had, but Cassandra hadn't been sure whether to mention it or not.

"This is my... fifth, I think." It doesn't seem like it's been that long...

Still pretty new, as far as he's concerned. And at the same time, it sounds like a lifetime. The past two weeks have felt like a lifetime, honestly. "Is it weird for you?"

The rockruff has been attempting to copy Misty Malarkey, but with... well, limited success. She is enthusiastic, but that seems to translate mostly into things flying too far or the wrong way, and once or twice she barks at her "toy" rather than kicking it, as if expecting it to move on its own if she's stern enough with it.

Cassandra nods. "Very."

The enthusiasm seems to still be appreciated, even if the Rockruff's aim remains poor; Misty Malarkey doesn't seem discouraged, at least.

Misty, you are surprisingly patient for a supposedly difficult Skitty. The Rockruff continues to happily miss her target, but as long as Misty Malarkey continues to be tolerant of it, she'll have a blast.

"Yeah. Me, too." He looks down at the Absol baby now laying limp across his metal arm, and the baby's mother sitting calmly at his side. "Nothing at all like this where I come from. No magic, nothing not human at all."

It's not that she's difficult per se; she just has that aura about her. And she's still young enough to appreciate a good play session.

"We had a lot of nonhumans, but no magic."

"Then you're ahead of me, at least." He might not remember a whole lot about Earth, but he knows deep in his bones that there aren't any intelligent species but the one. (Whales. Do whales count?) He has no idea, he doesn't know anything about whales.

What a good Skitty. The rockruff is just gonna keep having fun, though now Stevie looks like he wants in on it, so the Soldier crouches to set him down. "Be careful, now."

Stevie bumps his metal hand with his little horn, making a ringing sound, then scampers over to Misty Malarkey, too. "Absol Absol!"

Given that Cassandra herself is, or was, one of those nonhumans, she'd certainly know. "Not really - humans made us, too."

Misty Malarkey mews a greeting, then looks thoughtful for a moment. The rock is currently with her, but they can probably set up a three-way match (although hopefully the Absol has better aim). Gently, she bats the rock towards Stevie with one paw, then glances over at the Rockruff. What now, Stevie?

The Soldier blinks, actually looks at her for the first time, full in the eyes, and repeats blankly, "Made you?" That there are more people out there who were... made... sounds horrifying. Like with the poor pokemon.

At least on Earth, he's pretty sure he's the only one. ... pretty sure.

Stevie trips on his over-sized paws on his way over, bumping into Misty Malarkey's shoulder, but he hops back quickly enough. "Absol?" He paws at the rock, then bats it back, while the Rockruff barks. Her friends should play, yes, good! Stevie's aim is not great, being even younger than the Rockruff, but it's actually still better than hers is.

Cassandra nods. "Made. I don't know how many generations they ultimately made, because I was dead for a lot of them."

Which probably isn't going to comfort him at all.

It's a start! Misty Malarkey considers, then bats the rock back at the Rockruff. Hopefully she'll send it towards Stevie, but if not she'll figure something out.

The Rockruff... pounces it, instead of batting it. Sorry, Misty. Stevie makes a little whining noise and tries to make batting motions, himself, to encourage her to play the game. It takes her a minute, but she finally hits it... at Misty Malarkey. Sorry, Misty, like they'd been doing before Stevie joined in.

The Soldier's arm makes a ratcheting sound, and Grace bumps it his hip lightly with the flat of her horn. Grounding. "Sorry. That's. Pretty awful." It's not like he doesn't know what that's like, waking up and not knowing where or when or even who you are. "They only made one of me, at least."

...Well, she'd tried. This time, Misty Malarkey hits the rock towards Stevie; it seems like he has a better grasp of the game.

"They usually fielded forty-seven warriors at a time. There were trainees, but most of them didn't see true combat until they were deemed ready for promotion. Most... didn't survive the final test for that."

Stevie is smart enough to pick up on the game, and bats it over to the Rockruff, who pounces it again, bats it between her own two paws, then sends it rocketing in Misty Malarkey's... general direction, anyway.

"Forty-seven. Jesus." The Soldier's arm gives another stuttering calibration loop, and he shakes his head. "I'm sorry. That's." Terrible seems like too little a word, if their training was anything like his. (Training that we don't remember.) He still knows it was bad. "What did they need that many for?"

If nothing else, Misty Malarkey is getting her exercise today.

"They needed us to fight yoma and Awakened Beings, shapeshifting monsters who prey on humans. A human can fight a yoma, but they can't detect them. We are made into half-yoma, so we don't have that disadvantage."

They do, however, have other glaring disadvantages... like becoming Awakened Beings themselves when they lose control.

"Each of us was assigned to a given territory based on her rank... and her obedience, although the Organization never said as much aloud."

If they're protecting people. Maybe it's not so bad. Protection is worth a little pain, sometimes. But being made to fight if you didn't want to-- being made-- her "obedience"-- the Soldier doesn't know what the truth here is.

"Did they recruit you?" he asks after a moment. "Did you agree to it? To protecting people?" That seems like the most important bit that he doesn't know.

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