Two Pokémon...

Two Pokémon, a Binacle and a Morelull, stood in the middle of a beautiful and lush forest, in a small opening where sunlight fell through the dense foliage above and illuminated the grasses below. The three remained there, unmoving, because generally Pokémon that live on rocks and a nocturnal Pokémon don't move much during the day.

As their companion slept, the Biancle -- both of the heads male, of course -- quietly kissed. They were not in love, actually. Nor did they have even the most basic of pleasant feelings for one another. One must be reminded that the world of Pokémon Mystery Dungeon is close to what many human-turned-Pokémon would describe as medieval, which means that due to limited imagination on the part of the storyteller, the world must therefore fall into the limited lens of the medieval world with no room for creative interpretation as to how magical speaking animal-like creatures would develop their society and culture.

So it was that the two kissing Biancle were as deeply homophobic as medieval peoples likely were, and their hate for one another was so deep that they--each presuming the other was more deeply rooted in their disdain for gays than themself--kissed in an effort to anger the other. The pair of Binacle were too far inland, on the journey to the Clover Guild from the farthest reaches of the Grass Continent, to find another of their kind to live with. The only thing that kept them going was the hopeful reward money they might receive for showing a mystical human a place where others of their kind supposedly lived.

Bob, the leftmost Binacle, did not believe such rumors. But he believed them more than Joe, the rightmost Biancle, and suggested they escort the Morelull who fell from the sky right in front of them in order to piss him off. Joe, wanting to get under Bob's skin by agreeing as opposed to outright rejecting the proposition, agreed.

So it was that they agreed to escort Morelull all the way to Capim Town. So it was that, since their heart was not in it, and since good adventures require the pure heart of those involved, they wound up stuck in the middle of the wilderness, uncertain of where to go but nevertheless sure of nice resting spot when they found one.

Bob and Joe, two halves of the Binacle, kissed, smooched, and performed any other adjective that a 4channer with the literacy of a ten-year-old would shit their pants to. It got progressively louder, their homophobic kisses with one another as the trees swayed in the gentle, serene wind that blew through the lands. The contrast was startling, no doubt, and became enough so that it woke Morelull.

Suffering from a quarter-decent sleep, Finnigan the Morelull slowly opened his eyes. He tried to shield his eyes from the sun, but had no arms to do so. He tried to speak and get the attention of the Binacle, but had no mouth. Like a Bronzor, he could not possibly become the fixation of ten-year old's persona, even if that was the target audience of the franchise. Unlike a Bronzor, however, Morelull could not be the subject of an incredibly niche line of tile-related fixations. In short, he was the contrarian's perfect PMD protagonist.

Finnigan sighed a silent sigh, his caps drooping alongside his body. He knew it was hopeless; he would have never chosen to become a Morelull, but unlike all others who find themselves in the world of Clover, he was unable to pick a Pokémon he liked, but was instead given the far more realistic fate of becoming a literal-who of a Pokémon.

Finnigan watched as Joe kissed Bob, the former of the two trying not to throw up. Bob kissed Joe back, and Bob lost his own internal battle, throwing up but albeit in Joe's mouth. Finnigan had enough. He could make no announcement to the two engaged in their passionate and baneful makeout session on account of his lack of a mouth--how did he tell them he was human in the first place?--and used his three legs to hobble away into the great unknown.

He left Joe and Bob the Binacle there, and there they would remain for the rest of their short lives. Their hate for one another grew so strong that they refused to cooperate, hoping that the other would die before he would. To their dismay, they both collapsed from exhaustion into each other's bodies, too tired to move but close enough to see the light fade from each other's eyes. They died happy. Unfortunately for them, their bodies would be discovered by an explorer from an unnamed Guild that also moonlighted as an archeologist; this explorer would erroneously describe the two as roommates, something that would be rectified in a more civilized time.

As for the fate of Finnigan the Morelull, it was the one that met almost all people who entered this world, the world of Clover where countless stories intertwine and gather in one grand tapestry of a tale. After all, his story was just to begin! His intro was here! So many possibilities of adventure and interaction were to be had! For starters, who would he find? Would he partner up with a shillmon like charmander? Would he have a powerful ally such as an empoleon to guide him through? Or maybe he'd get a different underrated 'mon whose meta-narrative purpose is simply to not be a popular one, so perhaps a pineco could do. Much fun could indeed be had with that!

Alas, none of those potential futures would come to pass, for Finnigan would find himself fallen into a mystery dungeon and killed by the ferals inside far higher levels than he is, never to be heard from again, so was the fate of so many who began their journey into this world. At the very least, he would be memorialized in a Wave Portrait, not that he'd know what such a thing was.

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Pub: 14 Apr 2026 16:47 UTC

Edit: 15 Apr 2026 00:41 UTC

Views: 52