Dan Caine's Conscious


"I'm gonna be honest. I feel like shit."

'Shit?' asked the zorua, cocking her head slightly. d'Alin looked up from the soft, cotton-filled pillow he was resting on in their basement room, meeting the inquisitive sapphire-blue eyes of Arimis. Ikarus was there, too, asleep from exhaustion after his little training bout with Linoone. d'Alin, however, felt no need to keep his voice down on account of the typhlosion's deafness.

Unsurprisingly, the alchemist reminded d'Alin of who they had lost weeks ago, near the start of the month. The thought fluttered in his mind for just a moment, but Arimis had no need to read his thoughts when it was apparent by the frown that appeared on his face.

Turning his head away, d'Alin said, "Yeah, shit. Y'know. Crap? Feces? Need I go on?"

I, came the thought accompanied by a small grin, would far prefer you didn't. I know what the word means, I was merely repeating it for emphasis. Why? Is it the training?'

"I'd want to say so, but I actually feel invigorated by it. Moving around, using my energy. It's tiring during, but afterwards I feel great. Makes me feel like this body is useful; I'm down to keep at it tomorrow."

She flexed her paw, I feel better, also, being able to move and fight, even if I must hold back sparring with you and doing so in seclusion. But we do need to rest before our small expedition. Test. Whatever it might be; we ought to take tomorrow off to recuperate, and regardless of how fine you feel. I've already made plans for myself.

d'Alin cocked his head, "Is that so?"

A silent nod from Arimis. She offered no further details and, though the vaporeon was certainly interested, he didn't press, instead saying, "Well I can practice on my own."

As I said, it's best if you recuperate. Your body must rest.

"Are you sure? I've still made no progress in trying to learn how to liquidate. And my water gun -- no, you said 'chilling water,' right? -- I need to practice aiming it. Still weak but better than nothing."

I understand you want to improve, but let me ask: how long have you been a pokemon?

"I've been walking on all fours and using my mouth as a hand for a bit over two months by now. I know this body and my limits."

A silent sigh and a small closure of her eyes both led d'Alin to feel a small ball form in his gut. Two months... you don't know your limits, d'Alin. I've had my entire life. Please just heed my advice.

An angry retort crossed d'Alin's mind, just a flash, and even though he didn't say it, even though it was so brief there was no way Ari could've deciphered what it was, he felt guilty for even thinking it. He conceded instead with a move of his head away and a closure of his eyes. "Alright, okay; advice heeded. I'll take tomorrow off."

With his eyes closed, another sensation had fled from him. While the room was still cool against his fur -- a benefit of being underground -- and while the crackle of the fire and light snoring of Ikarus caressed his ears, the beige-painted walls of their room faded and were replaced with a soothing black nothingness.

They remained closed as d'Alin felt a soft paw press against his back. And yet, we never addressed the crux of this conversation. As for your... 'poor' state of being; if not physical, then what?

With his eyes closed still, face pressed against the pillow, all d'Alin did in response was lean slightly into Ari's touch before he said, "You've enough on your plate, Ari. I'll tell you about it some other time."

Would talking about it help?

"Maybe? I don't know but you've enough to deal with already. I don't need you to deal with me also."

Then why not discuss it with Pirth? Or Ikarus, once he awakes?

"I... I'm not that close with Ikarus yet," came the vaporeon's response. He opened his eyes and turned them to the badger sleeping blissfully unaware in the corner, hugging a large pillow tightly to his body. Satisfied, d'Alin closed his eyes once more and returned to the abyssal black. "Maybe some other time, though also I doubt he'd understand."

So Pirth, perhaps?

"No," came d'Alin's quick response, and that was all that needed to be said about that.

A silence stood in the room for the moment, alongside the two, watching and waiting in earnest for its presence to be dismissed. Ari, content with silence as it was all she knew, quietly sat but kept her paw on d'Alin. He sighed as the zorua, almost imperceptibly, patted him. It was soft and gentle, but also somehow desperate, as if there was something she needed to say, to let out and declare, but was fighting with herself to do so.

Still, she was more used to silence than he was, so he was the first to usher it away. "What, Ari? Tell me what's on your mind."

The small pats stopped. I... I...

"You..? You what, Ari?"

I'm... I am just sorry, d'Alin.

"'Sorry?' Sorry for what? You didn't do anything."

Arimis closed her eyes, but opened them to look at d'Alin as she spoke, trying to allow her sympathy to well up visibly, even if he wasn't looking. Her paw was firmly on his light blue fur. She felt his heartbeat, quick and curious, and it skipped a single beat when she said, I know you're hurting.

d'Alin didn't realize he was swishing his tail back and forth while beneath Arimis' touch, but she noticed that it stopped immediately. One deep, dark blue eye with a small white pupil staring right at her fluttered open. She met it with both of her own.

"What makes you say that, Ari?" asked d'Alin. "Are you reading my emotions?"

The thought to do so didn't occur to me, seeing as you put it on display for all to see, she said, making sure to not say she could feel his heartbeat race.

"I'm trying to rest, not be observed."

And yet, you fail to deny my claim, came the firm thought.

A firmer response, still, "Ari, I ask again: what makes you say such a thing?"

d'Alin's ears twitched, raised up and trying to perceive what her response might be even though Arimis speaks only through the senses within his mind. His one eye, looking at her from the side, was the only other emotion he let out, but it was enough. She saw that eye dart on occasion up and down over her, studying her body language, but she remained perfectly still. For a moment it was only her eyes that betrayed her emotions, her thoughts and her worries, but d'Alin didn't have enough experience looking at them to know.

A regret they both shared, she knew, and she knew also it was unfair for her to so plainly read him while she was well versed in donning a mask to shield her emotions from the outside world, and the reverse. So she unveiled her thoughts, laid them bare after a moment's hesitation as she said, I know what it's like to hate yourself.

His ear fins recoiled and folded back, his eye darted away before it shut. His tail flexed away from her and he let out a heavy sigh. Arimis lifted her paw away, but d'Alin said, "Please, keep it there."

She did, and he sighed once more. He closed his eyes shut, hard, but it was not enough. Arimis knew, however, not to say a thing about the wetness of his eyes or the tear that pooled below his eye. Still, however, she spoke, exasperation echoing in the mentally-projected sounds, Do you think it is fun for me to speak so plainly? I know you well enough to understand it's the best way to go about this. To tell you directly. I know how you feel about yourself. All too well, I know.

Her paw was more firmly against him, her crimson red against his light blue a surprising contrast, but one she liked. She simply didn't like the circumstances under which the colors met. Still, with her firmness she tried to imbue some of her feeling, her thought, but she had neither the feelers of a sylveon nor, regrettably, the psychic capabilities of an espeon.

All Arimis had her words, and that would have to be enough. I know what it's like to be so kind.

"I'm not."

Not to yourself. Never to yourself, d'Alin. Only to others. Don't you recall those words you told me at the beginning of the week, when we returned? How I felt terrible, and how you asked me to forgive myself? Did I not say I deserved no such thing, and you said I had to? Why can you not afford yourself the same forgiveness?

"I--"

Let me finish d'Alin, Arimis said, but know there can be no justification. I was the same way, you know; caring so much about you but not caring for myself. Didn't you see that? Of course you did; you tried to break me from that, telling me to forgive myself all the while I could only care for you.

"I know!" came his retort, too loud to be stopped by another thought, his eyes open and staring down Ari as he sat up, "I know that's so. Don't you think I realize that I stood by and did practically nothing while Althi put you down? Don't you think I know that it took her hurting me -- not all the pain she put you through -- to finally get you to act? I knew and I did nothing. I tried to talk to her for self-serving reasons, and look at what it brought me."

He raised his paw up, its off-white color catching the purple light of the torch in their room. He raised it and shook it, then held it back down in defeat. "It's a testament to how I messed up. It's a reminder of my failure. It's a monument to me losing her and the team."

d'Alin, it couldn't have been any other way. This is something I will never tell Pirth, but you saw how she looked at me. Maybe not, but I did, at my paw when I was disguised as an espeon. Every bit of me she loathed, and were she to stay, I would've never been this open. I am sorry she is gone, but I am glad I can be in my own fur, here, in good company. That vision you told me, of us sitting at the sunset?

"I remember it. How could I forget?"

How could I? About it I... I feel hopeful. I feel, for the first time, like I can attain such a nice moment. And you need that as well. Please, if you can't speak to me, speak to a friend.

"I... I don't have anyone else here. I mean, Alphonse is nice but... I don't think I can really talk to him about this."

A moment's hesitation followed before Arimis said, Do you know what I did while you were unconscious and injured, in the midst of your recovery? Who would I go and speak to about Althi?

"I'm presuming not Pirth."

And Ikarus I would be loath to bring into our misery. I spoke with him about many things, and it was nice to find someone who was so eager to converse.

"Then no, I don't. Who? Booker?" came d'Alin's response, and although his eyes were once again shut, although at first glance he had once more retreated back into himself, Arimis saw his white ears once more perked up and attentive.

No; he and I relate in a different manner. I would not want to discuss Althi with him.

"Then who?"

Bill. A growlithe. He's very kind, and good at listening. He's a human also.

d'Alin's tail flicked into the direction of Ikarus.

He's from your world, from what I gather. He's apparently trained to talk to others, to hear them out. I sought him when I needed to vent, to explain my miseries.

"I'm here for that."

You were recovering, in-and-out of consciousness. I did not want to worsen things for you. Besides... I am not certain if I would speak to you. I value your thoughts, certainly, but a... different perspective, one far-removed, is appreciated.

Now d'Alin's eyes opened, and they had a harsh cold to them that was still too familiar to Arimis. It took everything within her to keep her paw pressed against d'Alin's fur, though she could have sworn it felt a little colder.

"That's a therapist," he said in almost a growl, "and I'll never do that."

I have a basic grasp, d'Alin, of what he does.

"Then you'll have a basic grasp of what I won't do. Don't ever suggest that," said d'Alin, with such a harsh tone that Arimis took a half-step back. For an instant, imperceptibly to all but her, her fur flashed pink.

So be it. But please, for me, speak to him. He is nice. I think you two would get along.

"I already said--"

As friends. You know just us, of Team Eevee, here, and Ikarus. Alphonse and Bethel... they are nice, welcoming, but can you not feel that they are regrettably distant, now, with how often they go on missions? Rarely are they around. It would be nice to speak to others, to make friendships with those here in the Guild often, and not keep to yourself.

"You tired of me?" d'Alin asked with a slight grin.

Arimis needed to only look at him for him to feel bad about the joke.

"Fine," he admitted, "I can see your point. Still, it doesn't mean I'm going to do it. Befriending a therapist for the purpose of talking with a friend is just a convoluted way of talking to a therapist."

But would it not satisfy your own strange rules?

After a hushed moment he said, "Maybe."

Then for me, she said, meet him. That is all I ask. I will even inform him that you are absolutely no such client. I can arrange it rather easily, I think.

d'Alin made sure to dodge her request and instead asked, "What? He has a free schedule?"

Even though she could speak within someone's mind exclusively, Arimis still looked at the door, her weary eyes watching it for a moment before turning back to d'Alin. The zorua and the vaporeon met eyes before she whispered mentally, as if trying to prevent any psychics from hearing her shared thought, I am of the opinion that there are more here that are in need of the service he provides than those who take it.

"Hmph. Very subtle, Ari."

Arimis became even more red. I-- I didn't mean it like that!

After a hearty laugh from d'Alin he said, "Nah, it's alright. I know, just messing with you."

Her eyebrows turned downwards. Bad timing.

d'Alin stood up finally and looked at Arimis. He was taller than the zorua, and she had to crane her head up to make eye contact. She could see his sly grin from up close, but it wavered and became a frown and a sigh. "I'm sorry. We're being serious and I'm not. I'm just... naturally this way sometimes, you know?"

Yes, d'Alin. I know. For all your good and bad, I care so much for you since it is simply... you.

A gentle punch with his foreleg glanced Arimis' shoulder and he said, "Now, don't be getting all chummy with me, Ari. Don't think you can convince me. You still have my answer."

Although she kept her smile, she looked away. d'Alin knew he didn't hurt her, of course, but he asked what was wrong. She turned back and, with a tired smile and tears welling, said, I just wish you could see what I see in you. I wish you could at least try. But if you chose not to, I will respect that, too.

That pit of anger that formed upon Arimis' suggestion reappeared in his gut. Were Ari to manipulate him, this would be the way to do it, he knew. She wasn't stupid; she knew it too. A sad smile, a tear, and a resignation to make him feel guilty. He'd do so much to help stop the feeling of misery from appearing on who he cared about. It was so easy to use that.

But he knew her. He knew her intent.

She would never. For her to do such a thing was unimaginable. d'Alin, now, rested a paw on her and pulled her in. The both of them, three limbs on the ground, one wrapped around the other's shoulder, it was the closest he could comfortably get to a human-like embrace given their physiology.

d'Alin sighed. "I'll meet him, Ari; I'll talk with him. For you."

I hope, then, that this is the beginning of the end of you doing something for me and not yourself.


The next morning Arimis guided d'Alin to Bill's office, making sure to be quiet so as not to disturb Pirth, who was resting heavily. Before they even left their room Ari was already an espeon, but her paw remained red. While they stopped by the next-door workshop where they said a brief hello to Ikarus, who was busy concocting potions for their expedition tomorrow, d'Alin made several glances at the paw.

As they walked through the Clover Guild, d'Alin called out to Arimis in his mind, and he wondered, Has anyone made a comment about your paw?

No, came the reply as they walked up the winding stairs, they were so heavily inebriated when we first came and in recovery the days after; they likely chalked up their inattention to that.

Interesting, was the lone thought that Arimis intercepted, but he rapidly returned to his own mind, and she left him be.

They ascended the stars, past the second floor where their old room was -- they both were unable to help but give a brief glance at the curtain of the now-empty space -- and to the third. d'Alin saw at least two members of the Guild on that brief ascent that very much should have visited the clientless office, but he, of course, made no comment.

Arimis lightly rapped her paw on the door.

"Come in!" came the half-tired shout, "No one else is here."

She pawed in the door and entered, with d'Alin following. He looked around at the office. From the circular window he saw the blue sky filled with many white clouds, the light illuminating the room. Said light reflected off the various shells from the beach hanging from string, though a scallop-shaped stain on the wall implied one was missing. He saw a small bookshelf behind a very human desk, one which had both a nameplate of "Dr. Bill" beside indecipherable runes as well as the doctor himself, Bill the growlithe, sitting behind the desk.

On a chair. d'Alin found that odd. There were chairs and what the vaporeon would best describe as beanbags there for visitors, but the growlithe retained the chair in a body that was most definitely not designed for chairs.

All this happened while Bill and Arimis shared a silent greeting, and d'Alin could tell she was speaking about him since both their eyes would occasionally glance at him.

"You know," he said, "I wouldn't mind being included."

Arimis merely smiled and said with a teasing thought, I was just warning him about you, d'Alin.

"Only good things," Bill said with a stifled chuckle.

d'Alin's ears fell back, and Arimis realized that this was not the place for her to joke; it seemed she picked up at least one of d'Alin's poorer traits. Immediately she said, Truly, d'Alin, it was nothing save for me explaining how I got you here. That Bill is not to treat you like a patient, but merely as a friend. Correct, Bill?

"Right," he said with a nod, "No therapy. Honestly, it'd be nice to talk to someone just for the sake of talking, so I look forward to it."

With that, Arimis began to depart. Before d'Alin could ask where she was going, she projected, I'm going to review some maps of my home continent. Ley Lines as well. I am... considering returning to the Glade for the day. I'd like to know more.

d'Alin nodded, watching her leave, the door shutting behind her. He turned back and saw Bill already situating himself onto his chair, and with an open paw gestured to the seating options before him. "Pick any seat you like! We have chairs if you're--"

"No," d'Alin said with a shake of his head.

"I'm... sorry?" Bill asked, his ears drooping.

"Y'know, Bill, I like talking too. I wouldn't mind sitting and learning about this world from another human from my world; seeing their perspective on the Guild, on this world -- especially considering how long you've been here -- would be nice. But I will not do that here. Not in a literal therapist's office."

d'Alin looked back at the window, and Bill's eyes followed, his ears perking up as d'Alin gestured to it and said, "Now look outside! What a nice day! Why don't we use your years of being here as a benefit, huh? We can walk and talk; you can take me around town and show me some stuff you wish you knew when you first came here, some sights you enjoy even now."

Bill pondered this for a moment, and as his thoughts began to manifest, d'Alin noticed his tail start to sway back and forth. Bill asked, slowly, "No matter the season, Capim Town gets pretty hot, I find. We're in the tropics, after all."

Having retained his human disdain for the heat, d'Alin said, "I couldn't agree with you more."

The growlithe's tail began to unmistakably wag. "Then I know a great place!"


When d'Alin and Team Eevee first made their way into Capim Town over a month prior, they saw much but their arrival was done in such a rush he found it difficult to enjoy it. Everything thereafter had been busy; the expedition to Checkered Chasm then recovering from that emotionally, that terrible storm and recovering from what came of it both emotionally and physically; and now he had been training since he heard that they would be required to undergo some sort of test if they wanted to remain.

Not once had d'Alin the opportunity to truly enjoy the sights of the town he found himself a resident of. The walk, at first, was silent and awkward. After all, two people brought together by a single person -- especially when that person wasn't around -- didn't have much to say to one another.

Bill, however, was attentive enough to see d'Alin's eyes wander over the architecture of the Clover Guild, the adamant and tall trunk it was carved into, how that mighty stump dwarfed the surrounding trees, and so he told him what he had learned in his time here.

Capim Town, Bill told d'Alin, was built around the remains of a now-extinct tree, one that would put the redwoods of their old world to shame. Those bygone trees, according to ancient tales, grew taller than the skyscrapers of Earth. The saplings of the trees grew so rapidly that their own trunks would collapse under their weight, meaning that the first generation to have ever sprung was also the last. It was from those trees that Capim Town was born.

"So," d'Alin asked, his eyes looking back at the receding Clover Guild which was carved from two fused trees. "How did the first generation spring at all?"

"In my time here, both as a resident and a therapist, I've learned a lot about what the natives here think, both logically and superstitiously."

d'Alin's fins perked up. "Oh?"

Bill stopped walking, the echo of sand-and-gravel that made the roads beyond the town square coming to a stop. He raised a paw and gestured to the jungle around them, the forest of endless trees that helped give the lush continent its name. "All around us are trees, of course, but none are so famous as the Tree of Life. Have you heard of it?"

d'Alin nodded. "I have. I know it's somewhere by the Sand Continent, right?"

Bill's tried to focus. "In the... Sea of Wonders, I think it was called?"

"Yeah, that's right. My... my old mentor said he had evolved there. He met Xerneas."

Bill's voice betrayed a bit of surprise. "Wow, for a relatively new arrival here you've sure met quite a bit of people."

d'Alin couldn't help but blush, "Well, I've had plenty of opportunities to see the world and speak with others. I'm very fortunate."

They continued walking, the towering remnants of central Capim Town dominating more and more of the horizon. Bill spoke as d'Alin trailed behind him, saying, "Well, the Grass Continent is a little less religious than the others -- at least according to Arimis since she's traveled quite a bit-- but looking at Capim you'd think it hardly was at all. In all fairness, it's different from what we'd see in our world; it's a pantheon, you see, a whole array of different beliefs and gods. You just have to know where to look if you want to see it."

The empty path began to be occupied by tents and houses, with small saplings adorning the area. Bill pointed out a carving into a fledgling tree along the path, gems embedded onto wood in an ornate pattern. There were small carved figures -- also made out of wood -- surrounding it. "There's the belief to some that the trees here are relatives of the Tree of Life. That's why there never were any viable saplings, but still these trees existed at all; Arceus put them here when the world was first created, they say, but only the Tree of Life remains.

"There aren't really any magical properties of the ones here, and they don't cause pokemon to evolve, so I guess it's just the question of how these trees first grew at all that made them think that, but I'm just parroting the prevailing belief. So it's no surprise that there's a small following of Xerneas here, but from what I've learned the followers of Xerneas keep to themselves quite a bit."

"Interesting," d'Alin said, letting his mind take in all the information as they proceeded into town. "There's so much more to this world than I would've thought."

Still his thoughts wandered as they went further in, the tents and small buildings being gradually replaced with the stumps of those ancient trees, ones that grew in quantity and size, the sky slowly being encroached upon by giant stumps, a clear sight line etched away by crisscrossing vines and bridges.

"It seems so... three-dimensional?" d'Alin asked as they walked up a spiral staircase, a series of wooden planks thrust into the side of a massive stump. "Like, I've seen places like New York, right? Who hasn't seen at least pictures? It's the City, after all."

As they came upon the roof, he saw that in spite of their elevation still jungle vines and bridges alike crossed overhead still, for there were more remnants of grander trees that adorned the skyline of Capim. d'Alin was in awe, finally able to appreciate what he saw, articulate how what was before him was more magic than real.

A feeling of astonishment took him, forming in his stomach as a pit, not one of despair that wanted to be hid away, but one instead that needed to be expressed, to be shared with the world. So d'Alin did, saying, "But here, it all feels so much more alive. Look there, on the vines; birdmons are perched there, talking to one another. The bridges that are above and below us all have pokemon of different shapes and sizes making their way through, living whatever lives pokemon live. Human skyscrapers, they're standalone, each one its own self-contained thing. But here... it's all intertwined, in sync with the world itself, it feels. It's...

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

Bill answered with a smile as he led d'Alin to one such bridge that connected the roof to another, larger one, one so wide that small buildings had been erected upon it. Bill approached the connecting bridge, and even as it wavered gently in the winds that beset Capim Town, ones that carried the nearby scent of the bay, the cries of wingulls delivering mail above and the ruckus of the teeming pokemon living life below, Bill stepped onto it without a moment's hesitation.

d'Alin followed suit, albeit with all the hesitation Bill had foregone; the vaporeon was clumsy as a human and that hardly translated well into walking as a quadruped. He could walk on the ground just fine but there appeared to be a good reason why evolving into a flying type was never an option for him. He raised up a white paw in worry, but Bill saw this and turned around, standing beside him.

"Walk with me, side by side. You'll see there's nothing to worry about; I was just like this when my brother and I first came here. Walking on all fours is not fun."

"Heh, you can say that again," came d'Alin's reply. He gladly took Bill's assistance, walking slowly and trying to retain his balance. Even so, the bridge swayed, and d'Alin splayed his legs open like a cat to keep steady. Thankfully, Bill was patient -- unsurprising given his job in the Guild --and remained by his side. A careful step forward, making sure to not look over the sides, then another and another, and the vaporeon was halfway through.

It became easier. The wind that swayed the bridge did not intensify nor did they diminish, but rather d'Alin grew in confidence. His steps began to match the confidence of the growlithe's and he no longer half-crouched down, but instead walked as he would on land, relying on his tail to stabilize him. As they neared the end, d'Alin looked over the edge, and although a flash of vertigo caused his heart to beat, he kept watch and his heart settled. He saw the various 'mons below shopping at the stands he had seen when he first came, and he remembered that he really was in fact here.

Some moments it all felt like a dream, unreal, impossible that he should be in this mystical land, and yet as he turned around, his guide -- a growlithe who, like him, was once human in form -- led him to a shop situated on the plaza built onto a wide tree trunk.

The sun was long overhead, and there was no cover for them here, so the heat of the tropics beat down on them. d'Alin wondered why fire-types were resilient in the heat while ice-types weren't, but he also learned as they entered the shop that at least one fire-type could still enjoy colder things.

The building they entered was a popular one in Capim and among Guildies: a place to seek shelter from the year-round heat of the tropics. Within the Clover Guild arguments would ensue as to if Amaura's Arctic Delights were better than Snover's Sorbets, or if either could compete with Lome the Avalugg's Ice Cream Emporium.

Bill clearly was on the side of Amaura's, and d'Alin realized with surprise that he only knew the name of the shop because he could read the text, the English something he was surprised to see beyond the interior of the Clover Guild. He also saw, hammered onto the door frame, a second sign he could also read which said 'roleplay friendly service.'

"Wha..?" was all he could mutter as Bill pushed open the doors, the pleasant cool of the shop overcoming him as it swept aside the heat of the overhead sun. d'Alin found himself face-to-face with the eponymous Amaura owner who gestured happily to her selection. There were plenty of sorbets -- Bill swore that these were better than Snover's -- but the shop also had a wide variety of other frozen treats. d'Alin, thankful he didn't have to have something he knew he'd dislike, opted to try the sample platter, a mix of four berries of his choice all coated with chocolate and given a second layer of cool frost. Bill, unsurprisingly, went with a sorbet, a multicolored blueish-purple mix of belue and apicot berries, sour enough to make d'Alin's mouth salivate.

Bill was all too happy to pay for the two, and d'Alin made a mental note to be sure to return the favor someday as Bill slid over some coins which matched the price.

Amaura's fins glowed a bright warm. "Thank you! We'll deliver it to a table of your choosing!"

d'Alin turned around and saw two sections:

One with beanbags and chairs chaotically arranged around tables of various shapes and sizes and another, smaller one with just chairs.

Bill made for the smaller one, and d'Alin followed. Bill hopped onto a chair and gestured for d'Alin to do the same. He did, and to his dismay, the vaporeon found it was not very compatible with his physiology. He sat on all fours like a dog on the hard wooden seat, his tail drooping to the floor from the hole in the back.

He eyed the beanbag-like chairs in the main area before Bill got his attention by saying, "They have this area separate since quite a bit of Guild members tend to make a ruckus whenever they come."

Amaura appeared, pushing a cart towards them with her body. d'Alin saw the tray of food he ordered, of course, but also a strange utensil with a small strap at the end of it. As Amaura moved the food onto the table, followed by the utensils, d'Alin quickly realized what it was.

Bill struggled to place his paw into the strap and had to use his mouth to tighten it, but once he had gotten it properly fitted the spoon was immediately dipping into the sorbet. "Isn't this great, d'Alin?"

d'Alin's tail wagged back and forth as he followed suit. It took a greater deal of effort than Bill, but once it was fitted it was like he was holding a fork. He used it to pierce a frosted, chocolate-covered berry, and popped it into his mouth.

A fresh, sour taste flowed on his tongue, his favorite one. Pinap.

He pierced another one, the frosted chocolate cracking under the prongs, but he looked at the fork. It's nice, d'Alin thought, but it's not... right?

Another berry entered his mouth, the signature smooth and sweet flavor of the bluk berry a nice and familiar one.

The third berry was pierced, but the novelty of using a fork had worn off. Instead, it had become as bitter as the berry he put into his mouth. But while the pomeg berry had also a smooth taste to it, a sort of pleasant sweetness as well, d'Alin felt little pleasure at the instrument wrapped around his blue paw.

He held it up and looked at it before his eyes fluttered to Bill. The two hadn't spoken, for d'Alin was lost in his thoughts and Bill was busy shoveling sorbet into his mouth. He noticed d'Alin staring at him and asked, "Is everything all right, d'Alin? Do you want another utensil?"

The vaporeon shook his head. "No, it's not that. Did you come here because of the... 'roleplay-friendly service?'"

Bill had to swallow before he could reply. "I think the sorbet is as good as Snover's. Though it costs a bit more Poke."

"So not because of the service?"

Bill let out a sheepish smile. "Well I can admit that's a factor here. Why? Don't you like it?"

"I mean..."

"I think," Bill said, "that it's nice to have some sort of dignity remaining. Anywhere else here in Capim and we'd have no accommodations; we'd eat with our mouths or paws."

"Like cats and dogs, I know," said d'Alin. "Trust me, I've not liked how I've had to eat since coming here. I mean, the idea of eating food off the floor of a Mystery Dungeon of all things is crazy, but this..."

He used his mouth to loosen the strap around the fork and let it clatter to the table before he pushed it aside. "This doesn't feel right. It feels like a denial of what we are, doesn't it? I'm forcing something that shouldn't be. I wanted something like this for a while, but it's just wrong."

Bill just frowned. "No, I don't think so. I don't think being reminded of what our lives were like is denial of anything. And using utensils in place of our hands when we walk on all fours is definitely not denying anything."

"I can grant you that last one," d'Alin said, "but still. To me it feels... like I'm living in the past. Like I'm not accepting how things are. I can tell you I've wanted something like this since I got here: to feel human. But using it now, sitting in these chairs that are designed for bodies that aren't our own, being uncomfortable just for the sake of what I was... it's not right."

"Not right?" Bill echoed, "What is right, then?"

"I don't know," d'Alin said, "I'll admit I don't know. But this isn't it. Not for me, at least."

Bill nodded and, still using his utensil, put another spoonful of sorbet into his mouth. d'Alin looked at the last berry. His eyes glanced to the fork then back to the berry. He leaned over and snatched it with his mouth from the tray. It was an admittedly awkward motion to both watch and perform, but at the very least it didn't feel artificial to d'Alin. It was unpracticed, unsteady, but without a doubt it was far from forced.

He cracked the hard chocolate shell in his mouth, the cool frost a pleasant sensation. He continued to chew, his teeth piercing the juicy flesh of the berry, the taste of all-too familiar oran dancing on his tongue.

Bill, between mouthfuls, said, "You know, this sounds awfully a lot like a therapy session."

"I think of it more like philosophy. It just happens to be about us."

"Then you're definitely toeing the line. I'm not taking notes, of course, but you do understand where I'm coming from?"

"Hmph. I guess so."

Bill couldn't help but smile and leaned towards d'Alin, speaking with exaggerated flair. "It sounds like you're bothered by it. How does it make you feel?"

"Oh fuck off, Bill."

Bill was happy to elicit a chuckle out of d'Alin, and he said, "So, you like philosophy d'Alin? Is that something you studied?"

"Briefly," came d'Alin's reply, "but I just enjoy thinking about these sorts of things. How did you know I went to college?"

"Just a guess," he said before he shoved a last, great spoonful of sorbet into his mouth before speaking again. "Well, do I know the place for that. You... chose to evolve, right? Arimis told me you had gone to 'Eeveelution Forest,' back on the Grass Continent?"

"I think people here call it Evolution Forest, but yes. I came to this world as an eevee."

Bill's ears perked, but d'Alin put a stop to it, saying, "Now telling you why I evolved would be a therapy session, so I won't. No offense."

"None taken," Bill said, "after all, I like talking just for the sake of talking. Besides, you wouldn't tell someone you just met your whole backstory, would you?"

d'Alin smiled, "Right, yeah."

"Well," Bill said, "I'm less certain that you'll like where I'm taking us next, but it's nice even for me, so I doubt you'll have an issue with it."

Finished, Bill said used his mouth to loosen the strap of the spoon. Unlike d'Alin, Bill carefully placed his paw back on the table before sliding the utensil off, and the vaporeon noticed he gave it almost a longing glance. Bill hopped off from his seat, stretched only briefly, and turned back to d'Alin who had done the same. "Follow me, if you will."


As they walked, d'Alin did tell Bill about his own past; about what he had studied in college, the places he had seen, continuing to compare it all to the bridges above and pathway below and stumps and buildings that flanked their sides. Nothing from their old world, they agreed, matched the beauty of what was around them.

As they left the center of Capim Town and towards a destination unknown by d'Alin, Bill spoke as well. He told d'Alin what he had missed; he told him how before even he and his brother came here there had been a test by the Federation, qualifying the Clover Guild. He said how he had been trained by KFC and had a mission to undertake with Gill -- what it was and how far in the future he didn't say -- and how Gill wanted a sparring partner.

After d'Alin suggested Gill and Pirth should meet, Bill continued, telling the stories he heard of others, how there had been dungeon shifts and great journeys made to get here. He spoke of the Summer Festival they hosted and of everything from then to now.

d'Alin realized he was quite late to everything, but Bill was quick to say, "It's not like we're going anywhere; I'm sure there's adventures you'll find yourself in as well."

The vaporeon had to concede that much, for better or for worse, and they walked on, the din of the town fading and towering presence of the trees receding as they neared the shore. In moment's time, d'Alin found himself at a beach. It did not contain the busy and deep waters of the docks nor did it have the cliffs of Capim which held steadfast against crashing waves; the beach was nestled in a small cove where Capim Bay met golden sands with gentle laps of water.

Bill sat on his haunches, midways from where the dunes met the soil and where the waves softened the fine sands. He invited d'Alin to do the same.

d'Alin was all too happy to oblige, the sound of the ocean music to his ears. He sat there besides Bill and closed his eyes, basking in the afternoon heat of a falling sun whose unpleasantness was undermined by the fresh sea breeze from before him. The air was salty, fresh, and thoroughly enjoyable by the vaporeon. He knew he always enjoyed the sea as a human, but he wondered how much more intense the enjoyment was because of his new form.

Is it really me enjoying this so much? Is it my own senses heightened in this form, or is it this form dictating everything?

"I think the world is just more beautiful here," Bill said.

d'Alin was shocked that Bill had seemingly read his mind, but paradoxically Bill said, "I can't read minds, but I can guess what you're thinking. I've thought the same. The way you spoke about Capim as we passed through, I'd often find myself thinking those same thoughts. But... I don't feel it. I know where we are is better than where I was; I have my brother here while back home we weren't around each other."

Bill looked as the sun was reflected over the waves. "I come here to think about these sorts of things, d'Alin. I wonder a lot."

"About?"

"Myself," he admitted, "myself and what beauty is. Why I know something can be beautiful, why I can see objectively that so much in this world would be painted and written and dreamed about back home. But I just can't feel that beauty; I can't feel the awe and wonder I know that should follow."

"We seem to be a little alike."

Bill shook his head. "I'd hope not. You, I think, feel it. I can hear it in your voice, the same kind of amazement I hear in my brother's voice. I was wondering about that. We're all closer to the ground, so it's not that the grasses are closer and greener. I've seen your tail wag; mine does, too. We both have these instincts we can't control. I don't know what it is."

d'Alin said, careful to choose his words, "Could it be that you're holding onto your past? That you still wish you were human?"

"Don't you?"

"I... I don't know."

For a few minutes all that was there was the sound of waves creeping against the beach, the tides waxing as the shore got closer and closer.

Bill broke the silence. "Would you go back if you could?"

Wishing to not say that he felt that he was once able to, d'Alin said, "I... no. Here I have a second chance."

"Of?"

"To do good."

The waves against the shore, the sea scent in the air, the sand beneath his paws and tail, all of it was so very real. Bill enjoyed it as much as he could. d'Alin didn't, for his heart pounded, having told a lie. So, after a moment's indecision, with only Bill's own admission tilting the scales into d'Alin speaking his truth, he said, "No, I don't have a second chance."

Bill, his eyes closed, basking in the heat of the sun, said, "What do you mean?"

"I lost it. Arimis told you about Althi, right?"

"I'm... not at liberty to talk about what patients have told me in confidence."

"Didn't you just tell me earlier of the missions people went on? Of how some pray to Xerneas?"

Bill became a little defensive, "Those missions were told publicly, and the pantheon I made note of during my time in Capim; to my knowledge no one in the Guild is really religious."

"So how do you know about Eeveelution Forest?"

Bill smacked his paw into his forehead. "Agh. It seems I'm not perfect."

"Don't worry about it. She told me what she talked to you about, if only briefly. You know about Althi?"

Bill neither nodded nor shook his head, so d'Alin said, "I'll assume you do. You know what happened? Wait, don't answer. I'll assume you know that as well. I'll also assume you know what I did? What happened to me?"

d'Alin raised his white paw, seeing how it appeared orange under the light of the sun. "How I did this to myself?"

"I know," Bill admitted.

d'Alin knew the story wasn't his alone to tell, but he couldn't but help feel bothered it was told regardless. Still, he swept that displeasure aside and proceeded, saying, "Well, that was my second chance here. I blew it. I wanted to do good, and I didn't. I pushed her when I shouldn't have."

"So that's it?" Bill asked.

"Yeah, that's what happened. Here we are now."

"No," Bill said, looking at d'Alin, "I mean is that it? You're done with your second chance. There's no going back?"

"No, there's not."

"Right. And you can't go forward, either? You can't move past this? It's over? No third chance? No fourth? You're always under the shadow of your past?"

"Aren't I?"

"You can feel the beauty of the world, d'Alin. I wish I could. I hope someday I can. Why dwell on that shadow when you have a whole future ahead of you, here in this wonderful place?"

"It's what's right."

"No," Bill said, "it's not right or wrong. It's just guilt. Guilt and hate."

He offered no explanation, but none was required.

The tide advanced and the sun waned as the minutes passed by. It got closer, and d'Alin, though he sat directly beside Bill, was larger. So his paws were further than Bill's, closer to the shore, and that was why his webbed paws were graced by the cool sea while Bill remained dry.

It was tantalizing, but d'Alin did not move closer. He let the waves lap against his paws, the water bringing with it a feeling of serenity where it met his fur, but he felt none within. He said to Bill, breaking their mutual silence once more, "You speak from experience?"

"I think," said Bill, scooting back from the tide's advance, "everyone deserves forgiveness."

"I don't believe in 'deserve.'"

"Fine. Can you forgive others?"

"If I'm close to them," he admitted. "Everyone else I'd rather just push aside."

"Are you closer to anyone than yourself? You live in your own body."

"Sure."

"Then why can't you afford yourself the same?"

Once more, d'Alin had no answer. He had heard it from Arimis many times over. Now Bill. His own mind had echoed the same. He knew it to be true. It would mean he could be happy. It meant self-acceptance. It meant he'd have a heavy weight removed from his chest. It would be a long journey, he knew, some great and mighty voyage that would require third, fourth, fifth and countless more chances.

The rising tide enveloped more of his forepaws. The vaporeon wanted to go in, truly, but to accept these instincts meant so much more. It meant to accept himself, to move on, to leave the shadows of the past behind. Not forgotten, of course -- never forgotten -- but rather no longer enveloped by it, instead basking in the light of a new day.

That was something he didn't feel he deserved, to feel like tomorrow would be better than today if he had thrown yesterday into disarray. Thus was d'Alin's answer to Bill, looking not at him but at the sea as he said, "It's not something I feel I deserve."

Though d'Alin didn't look at Bill, he could hear the weary smile in his voice, a warmth that matched his growlithe form as Bill said, "I thought you didn't believe in deserve?"

d'Alin chuckled. He knew it was true, that if he were anywhere but where he currently sat, he would encourage the vaporeon with a miscolored paw to enter the sea, to start and to try again, to enjoy the life he had. d'Alin only refused since it was himself, hypocrite that he was. He hated being one, of course, but there truly was only one way to change that.

It felt wrong to start, to forgive, to move on, to not hate the past of the one person whose past was inescapable, whose memories would return like flashes of thunder ever brighter in the quiet and dark of the night. But he had to. He had to if he wanted to truly enjoy the beauty of this brave new world, to make it a better place like he had promised what felt like years ago.

The vaporeon stirred. He knew, deep down, that his instincts influenced his calling to the sea. It was greater, stronger, than ever before, more than just being closer to the waters of the world would make it. He accepted it wholly as a new part of himself. Guided by that instinct, d'Alin stood up and walked into the sea, rapidly becoming enveloped by it, the water caressing first his paws, then his chest. His heart pounded as he did so, for each wave felt as if it washed away a misery he didn't quite know he had. So much remained, but so much also was dragged out to sea. It was a beginning.

An serene smile crossed his face, and he turned back and looked at Bill, who had scooted even further back from the rising tide.

"Come and join me, Bill," d'Alin said, speaking as the waves crashed against him, over and over, each more auspicious than the last, the soft seafoam gathering around him. Raising a white paw towards his newfound friend, d'Alin said, "Let me repay you for taking me out, for talking with me and helping me in more ways than you know. Let me share with you how nice the water feels against fur, how the sound of the ocean is so much greater when you're standing in it."

Bill's tail wagged, dusting the sand behind him, but after a moment's hesitation, he shook his head and retreated one step more. "Some other day."

Edit

Pub: 04 May 2026 23:14 UTC

Edit: 04 May 2026 23:15 UTC

Views: 48

Auto Theme: Dark