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Private/Closed Neo Kanto

After a few moments of silence, the doors loud lock could be heard popping open as the door cracked, a small blue head popping out of the dark room.
"Squir....tle...?" The water pokemon stared at the girl and her mon suspiciously, his cry sounding more like a question as he eyed the familiar Baulbasaur.

"Easy Cronus, no secret passwords necessary for these guys." Spoke the familiar voice of Levi, who quickly opened the door all the way. Cronus was drug along the carpet as he clung to the door handle, attempting to protect his 'turf'.
"Hey Winnie, come on in." He added casually before sliding back down into the chair at the corner of the room. The young man looked rather tired, and the room was a signifier. His jacket had been flung to the floor and his shoes were launched to either side of the room. On top of this his messy brown spikes no longer leaned collectively to the left and were scattered about every which way atop his head. A true Casanova.

"So, how ya doing, Pooh?" He lazily questioned his friend, calling her by the nickname he'd been teasing her with for longer than he could remember.
 
The nickname caught Winnie off guard, but thankfully no one was around to hear it. "Doesn't that ever get old?" she asked, side-eyeing Levi, as a friend would. She didn't think the nickname was terrible - she found it cute, in fact - but Winnie always responded in such manner whenever her friend would call her 'Pooh'. It was like a game they played, where he'd tease her, and she'd get flustered. "Anyway," she said. "I just came to check on you."

Levi looked tired, and Winnie hoped she didn't come in at a wrong time. She didn't mean to be a bother, after all. "I wanted to know if you're up for a stroll, or something. If you're not too tired, that is," She quickly added, not to sound pushy, or needy. "Might as well, while we're in Pewter. There's a museum, or we can check the park out," she rambled on. Winnie also wondered what Casey and Elliot were doing, not that she'd ever admit to thinking about that jerk. "How about it?"
 
"I'll take that one, kind sir. I'm no battler, but in a contest of expressions, perhaps my smile can best this Pokémon's perpetual frown and turn it Topsy-Turvy like Inkay!" beamed Casey.

"You have a nice smile and a good eye, as well as a big walle- Ahem, I mean, this Pokémon frowns bigger than a walleye!" replied the shopkeeper, nodding encouragingly and clasping his hands tightly in anticipation of the sale. His tongue was much looser, however, and he'd almost made it completely obvious how badly he wanted to dig into Casey's pockets. "...But I have no doubt that if anyone can turn that frown upside down, it's you! You're the perfect trainer!"

What the storeowner wasn't telling him was that nobody wanted this depressing Pokémon, longing for its past life and carrying a dead man's face. But Casey and Yamask had two things in common, both ghosts of their former selves and eternal expressers of a single emotion. They differed in how they handled these truths, one of them wanting to relive its old existence and the other hoping to quietly disappear, rot away in Pallet Town working a dull job for the rest of his days.

He hid it well, worrying no one with his unblemished outward appearance but inwardly killing himself in every way possible. Cigarettes helped with that. If Casey was a fool for spending 20,000, he was an even bigger one for thinking he'd find them at another Pokéstore. So he left, his cash the only thing that he blew off and Yamask's wispy form the only smoke that followed him.

~~~

If there was anything more breathtaking than cigarettes, it was the view from the Pewter University campus, which sat atop the cliff overlooking the city. Nevertheless, it wasn't out of place with the rest of the community. With a grand cathedral for a dining hall, castle stones for dormitory walls, medieval homes for schools, and a hiking trail that wound between stony impasses to the town below, Pewter's rich history transcended differences in elevation.

Elliot was hoping that the change would bring more scans. While it wasn't as prestigious or technologically advanced as hers, this was a university. Pokémon research was being conducted everywhere. Maybe the faculty knew Professor Yggdra and could share it with her student. Or perhaps something here would pique her interest, because Elliot still didn't understand the point of filling a Pokédex when the entries were online.

Casey was equally indifferent, no longer leading Elliot but walking beside her. They followed a group of students shuffling into a lecture hall, where a visiting professor was presenting his research on Poison-types. But he must've had nerves of steel if all these late arrivals didn't affect him.

"According to Canalave Library texts, humans and Pokémon shared a common ancestor," he began, "but what about species like Gastly and Grimer? One is a ball of gases, and the other is living sludge. These Pokémon came into existence independently, so the question motivating this study is how death and decay can give rise to life."

I don't know, but listening to your boring ass talk makes me want to end mine.

There was nothing toxic about those white teeth, but like Grimer, Casey's smile survived Quince's spoiling mood. Elliot, however, was thoroughly engrossed and nodding along.

"When mixed sludge finds the right arrangement of particles and forms the right bonds, even a cesspool can sustain life. That's what life is: individual parts coming together into favorable arrangements that ensure their collective survival, however decayed the matter."

The professor went on to detail the results of an experiment where Gastly's molecular structures were first analyzed, then blown apart in a wind tunnel. Afterwards, the researchers were unable to reconstitute the Pokémon in the same arrangements. Instead, the floating gases formed new ones, Gastly with entirely different natures and characteristics.

"The original configuration proved unsuitable for survival, so the molecules refused to reproduce it. This means that small particles aren't as will-less and unthinking as previously believed. They cooperate, store information about what will and won't keep them together. The deadliest poisons breed life, in conclusion, but only if their arrangements are correct and sustained."

Casey was like the Gastly in the wind tunnel, his mind drifting to other places. But Elliot's interest never faltered, outlasting both the gentleman's patience and the audience's applause at the presentation's end. She excused herself to speak with the professor.

"Umm, you go on without me. I can learn more here than running around town doing kids stuff and scanning pokemons. Unless he's another prof who never heard of internet and email."

"Oh? It sounds like you'll be staying for more than a day." :)

"Yeah. It's a school so I can scans all the pokemon here and get it done for Proffessor Yggdra. Then pick up internship in the area so people have good things to says about me even outside CU!"

Casey simply smiled and waved, agreeing that Elliot was making the right decision, settling among Kanto's humble beginnings and building a better future for herself on the lessons of the past. This was where they parted ways.

Of course. Whatever they had in common, however cynical they both were, she was ultimately a promising student trying to further her career, and he was a washed-up has-been whose career had ended a long time ago. One of them was moving forward, and the other was stagnating. Perhaps it wasn't such a bad thing, not having the bright Elliot around to save his brain cells from Winnie. It would surely hasten Quince's degeneration, the tomboyish girl just another instrument of his slow demise.
 
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"Ah, you wanna see the sights, huh?" Levi replied, an ever growing grin spanning the width of his face.
"I...think I've got a place you'll like in mind, you know I've gotten around Pewter before" He added slyly, collecting the articles of clothing he'd previously thrown about the room before heading out the door alongside his friend and partner.

~~~~

After several minutes of walking, it appeared Levi was taking the two towards into Pewter Museum, or not, as the brown haired boy took a sharp right turn at the front entrance of the museum without warning, curving around the back of the building rather stealthily.
"Follow me, stay low." He muttered to Winnie, feeling a rush of nostalgia as he and his friend began delving into a risky situation for the fun of it.
He slowly walked along the heavy treeline, the closer he got to the back of the building, the thinner the trees and brush got, eventually becoming a somewhat walkable path. As Levi cleared the tall dry brush that had been ensnaring his legs as he traversed the shorter path, he stumbled into a small flat opening of land the shifted into a large rocky hill. A content look rested on his face as if everything was going according to plan.
"So, you know why a museum was built right here in such a small city?" He questioned his now likely rather confused friend, not really waiting for an answer as he continued forward into one of the many cave entrances protruding from the uneven terrain. This particular cave was marked with Levi's initials, the large letters being etched into the top of the cave's entrance. Running his hand along the letters, Levi's body slowly disappeared into the growing darkness of the cave as he waded forward, the tunnel being clearly far deeper than it initially appeared.

The young trainer made his way through the ever narrowing cave entrance, only to reach an opening that called for him to completely tilt his head to the side, ducking under the opening he knew Winnie would have no issue clearing. As the two stepped out of the narrow pathway, they were greeted by quite the spectacle. The stone floor around them was coated in tall clear stalagmites that thinned out as the spiky earth slowly turned into a flat opening that closely hugged the edges of a small hot water spring at the back if the cave. The walls of the cavern were covered in round openings similar to the one they'd used to enter, only they all seemed to vary in size greatly. Levi assumed they were formed by the pokemon to allow the inhabitants of the cave to freely traverse the various caverns around them, it was the logical answer. The ceiling appeared more lethal than the floor, being densely packed with stalactites that caused an unending quiet dripping sound as the mineral rich water falling from the ceiling spikes continued to form the rigid floor around them.
"Because there sitting on top of a large archeological treasure..." The boy finally added, slightly captivated by his surroundings.
It appeared several small Slugma were inhabiting the warm cave, more victims of forced migration.
"Ya know....I spend my time attempting to preserve nature as it is and stop all the change, but..." The young man trailed off, starring at a Slugma crawling along the spikes, its viscous body easily passing around what would usually shred most other pokemon. On the other side of the cave, by the left of the springs, there rested a small bundle of baby Slugma that were protected from the outside world by said spikes that the larger Slugma was currently traversing through. There luminescent bodies reflected light off the crystal spikes and the small water source, igniting the whole cave system in rays of brilliant blue and orange light beams, it was truly a unique phenomenon.
"....maybe not all change is so bad."
 
Levi's grin was a sign the boy definitely had some mischief on his mind. It made Winnie's chest flutter.

--

Winnie followed Levi from behind. Pewter wasn't crowdy during the evening, but she still kept her Pokemon inside of their Pokeballs. Levi was seemingly taking them to the Pewter Museum, until he was not. The boy took a sudden turn, causing Winnie to halt for a second. "What are you-" she stuttered, now even more behind her friend. "Follow me, stay low," he said. As Levi ducked, a wave of nostalgia washed over Winnie. Her memories flashed, like a movie playing in front of her eyes. It was all so familiar, she thought, as she followed her friend to whatever place he was taking them. Just like back then, when they were kids, causing god-knows-what kind of trouble. Probably sneaking into the Professor's Lab. It was so vivid, the branches breaking under their feet, the secrecy... Winnie completely zoned out during their trip.

"So, you know why a museum was built right here in such a small city?" Levi asked, snapping Winnie out of her trance. Blinking the confusion away, she turned to see where they were - an entrance to a cave. She examined it, seeing Levi's initials. The boy left the question hanging in the air as he proceeded into the cave. Winnie had no other option but to follow him again.

It was... captivating. The narrow pathway was less of a problem to Winnie than to her friend, but they both managed in the end. The vastness of the cave made Winnie feel small, tiny, more than any building in Saffron managed to do. Levi continued to talk, but Winnie didn't process it. "...I spend my time attempting to preserve nature as it is and stop all the change, but..." She caught that. Winnie tried as well, but the rapid urbanization of Pallet, and its complete disregard of the environment around was a bit disheartening. Now, she against their development - she was proud her town was finally getting some recognition - but, it'd be amazing if they could find a balance between development and nature. She was far too idealistic for her own good.

"....maybe not all change is so bad."
 
If not all change was so bad, perhaps Elliot was making the right decision, transferring from the most prestigious university in the entire Pokémon world to a lesser known one, or whatever she was doing. In the end, Quince didn't really care. He tolerated Elliot, but he knew all too well that people came and went, even when one commanded the attention of millions. As she'd told him in Viridian, she'd be fine with her behemoth to keep her company, if it wasn't currently back at the Pokémon Center. They'd probably be long gone by the time she checked out of the room.

What Casey was looking to check out right now were a few books from the library. He'd descended the hiking trail from Pewter University without getting dirty and walked the distance to the museum, turning left to reach a less-ancient-looking building. Several stories tall with even more stories to fill its shelves, the modern bibliotheca kept all the knowledge of Kanto in one place. This late at night, however, there were only a few people inside, most of them in the café sipping lattes between turning pages or typing at their laptops. So Casey was free to stand in the aisles, pick out books from the environmental science section and give the first page a perfunctory read, without inconveniencing anyone.

And no one would inconvenience him. The space between these shelves was more solitary than his boat cabin, and he could disappear here more easily than out on the lulling sea. The small windows at the end of each row were far away, and the only massive window, with muntins as thick as bars, overlooked the library from well above the upper level. So there was hardly any glimpse of the outside world. The library instead drew attention to its inners, the second floor built in such a way that returned Casey's eyes to the first, peering over the railing, looking down rather than out. Or, if he should look up, his gaze would float to the dome roof and its many curved faces.

But he didn't come here to admire the architecture. He was on the lower level, and in the environmental science section, after all. His index finger rested on the spine of a particularly thick book, and its title—The Natural History of Calico Island—reminded him that he didn't come here to disappear, either.

Calico Island? That's the uninhabited rock off the coast of Vermillion. Now that would be the perfect place to get lost, once this is all over. But I'd have to come back here and return this book first... so fuck it. I'm checking it out for educational reasons, anyway. Research and shit.

As Casey skimmed the first few pages, he found himself mired in esoteric language and uninspired prose, but his quick walk to the librarian's desk belied the mental impasse.

"Excuse me, miss," cooed the gentleman. "I'd like to borrow this book. Here's my card." :)

Unlike Nurse Joy, this bespectacled brunette must have been used to the fancily dressed, intellectual crowd and simply smiled back. She was young—probably a student at the university—so she dealt with professors on a daily basis, or if she didn't, any other natty bookworm who came here.

"Of course," responded the woman, in as hushed a voice. "The return date is three months from now."

Casey was listening, but for a moment his attention was somewhere else. Perhaps those gray-blue eyes in the shade of his fedora naturally drifted to objects that were similarly obscured, but a lone door on the upper level, partially blocked by a shelf, piqued his curiosity. So when the librarian handed back the text, the gentleman accepted it rather absently.

"Right. Thank you," he muttered. "And, one more thing. If you don't mind me asking, what's beyond that door upstairs?" :)

"Oh, that..." the girl answered, trailing off as if she was retrieving a useless piece of information from the depths of her mind. "I haven't been here that long, but they say the books in that room are cursed. It's probably just an urban legend."

"Cursed? What could that mean?"

"Well, people who have checked out those books reported strange things happening all around them, from strokes of bad luck, to strings of fortunate events, to completely unexpected occurrences. And some say that the books write themselves. You look inside one day, and tomorrow, you find another page added to the last," she elaborated. "But life throws us all kinds of curveballs, and sometimes we think there's a supernatural force behind them. As for pages that weren't there before, they often get stuck together, and we simply don't see them. There's a reasonable explanation for everything."

"If that's true, why go so far as to hide the door?"

"Well, it's not like we believe the rumors. But they were drawing a lot of negative attention to the library, so we closed it off. I think that's why, though I wasn't around back then."

"Would you mind," inquired the gentleman, "if I had a look?"

"I'm sorry. If you go in there, ghosts will haunt you for the rest of your life, and I can't let that happen to you..." answered a sad librarian. But mischief peeked through her frown, and soon she was flashing him a sly smile. "Just kidding! Take as long as you need. You'll be fine!"

~~~

How old was the library? Ten years?

Casey hadn't seen a dustier room in his life, and he'd have thought it was a hundred, had he entered from here. Some shelves were missing a few books, others were empty, and more were tipped entirely. The texts that they were supposed to be holding were strewn all over the floor, their authors' names faded. The state of the place spelled neglect, the only clear word.

If it was the living, breathing, haunted kind of room, maybe it was self-conscious of that fact, hiding its imperfections in the dim lighting and distracting with a view of the moon through a large window. If the lights were completely off, beams would fall directly onto a central shelf, the only thing that stood out among the junk.

At first glance, there was nothing special about it. Like the other standing shelves, it was missing books. But there weren't any lying immediately around it. The texts it still contained were spaced far apart from one another, and strangely enough, the arrangement seemed deliberate. In fact, it bore an eerie resemblance to a map of Pewter City, a book where each building would be.

Hyper Zero Fantasy World: The Sirius Crusaders, Casey read the title from a distance, the thinnest on the shelf. A fine coat of dust had begun to form on the cover. It was a good read, if not a little raunchy. That much he'd discerned from skimming its few pages.

New Beginnings.

This second title was thicker, dustier, and rather upsetting. It must have been a hit at one point, but the story came to an abrupt end, as if one of its writers had suddenly vanished. He didn't wonder whether it would pick up where it left off and live up to its name. His only present question was what these two works were doing on the same shelf.

Yet the spotless spine of a third book was a puzzle in an entirely new riddle, the one before no longer worth solving.

Neo Kanto.

When Casey opened the freshly dusted read, all that stared back at him from those glossy, wordless pages was his own reflection. Could this be called a book? Why was it here? Why, unlike the others, did it not inspire any kind of emotion in him?

Because it's thin and has no substance, a perfect mirror of myself.

Casey slid it back into place, and Quince looked up hopelessly. The man's stare was so dead that it didn't look like he'd bother reaching for the last title on the shelf, the one that sat by itself at the very top, where Pewter's museum would be on the map. He eyed it closely enough to recognize the infinite potential packed between its covers, the only story so far that demanded a conclusion.

The Strange Lights of Route 14


There was no way for Casey to know, since he hadn't flipped through. But he'd find out soon, for his hand was already touching the spine, taking the book off the shelf and pressing it to his chest. Smiling with renewed intensity, he left the ancient room, closed the door behind him, and descended the stairs to check it out at the librarian's desk.

So this accursed book writes itself, huh? Well, I look forward to reading it. Bring me all the misfortune in the world, because I've already been there and back.
 
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(God the is gonna suck I'm so sorry)

Chris loved to hang out in the darker parts of the library so this more isolated part of the library was his second home, he felt comfortable with is little magby providing a small flame to read books too. He would imagine great adventures and being a regular kid happily doing things a regular kid would do! Such as hanging out with friends and doing all the fun and stupid things kids do! On a normal day he'd be able to stay in here without anyone bothering him and him not needing to talk to anyone. Unfortunately for Chris, today the happy isolation he had was ended when he heard someone going though books "crap someone is in here" he thought and stood up picking up his magby before calling out "hey is anyone here or is this place actually haunted?"
 
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Casey had been absorbed in the cursed titles on the central shelf, but something else stood out to him in the dimly lit room. In the corner of his eye, he could've sworn he'd seen a small flame flickering from its dark reaches. The thought of a fire hazard similarly tugging at the dark reaches of his mind, he stopped midway into his descent and turned around, climbing the stairs and facing the ancient door anew. This section of the library was hardly maintained, if at all, so any risks would go unnoticed unless Casey reported them.

He reentered the dusty room, then, to investigate. Thankfully, he was searching for a light, because nothing would stand out more in such a dark place. But he was searching for his lost purchase just as intently, tripping several times over tipped shelves and strewn books. No matter. There was no one here to witness his ungraceful procession. Or was there?

The lone lightbulb that hung overhead didn't shine this far, and all that guided him forward now was a fire, breathing red and orange from behind a shelf. Lifting his legs, then dipping them back into the sea of scattered texts, Casey trod carefully through the remaining obstacles and finally looked past the bookcase.

There, he found a boy who couldn't be older than seven and taller than four-foot-nine. The source of the flame was a Magby in his arms, a baby Pokémon that complemented his own childlike appearance.

"Well, it's certainly a pleasure to see a precocious boy like you reading such advanced books for his age, but you shouldn't play with fire. Especially when we're surrounded by all these cursed texts, anything can go wrong! Though, I maintain a positive attitude." :)
 
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Chris flinched slightly at the words "I'm 17. Don't call me precious ever." He muttered bluntly and began to dig his nails into his palm anxiously "so you uh.... came here? Of all the places you could have gone you came to the spooky place? Someone's trying to be a adventurer" he said quickly trying to engage in conversation, conversations where never Chris' strong suit so the chance to find a new friend was quite a daunting task for him
 
Well, guess he's not that precocious after all, if he thought I said precious. What's he doing reading challenging books like these if he doesn't even know what words mean?

"Oh, my apologies. I'm Casey, and it's nice to meet you. I suppose I'm an adventurer, since I'm delivering a letter in Vermillion City. I initially stopped by the library to enrich my research knowledge, but I happened upon this mysterious door. One of the cursed books here then piqued my interest," the gentleman explained, showing Chris the copy of Strange Lights that had still been pressed to his chest. "What about you? I was told that this section was abandoned, so I'm surprised to see another face. Are forbidden texts your fancy?"
 
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"Uh huh, yeah, love them they realllly interest me, have you seen the book?" He asked holding his magby close to his chest and trying not to mess anything up "oh crap oh frick" he thought "he probably thinks I'm a massive up tight weirdo". Chris let out a small sigh "I also come here to be alone cause sometimes that's what you need you know?"
 
Oh, okay. He clearly doesn't give a crap about the books. He's just here to fuck around.

"I'm not sure which book you're referring to. There are plenty here, and most of them are lying about the floor. But I do know that sometimes being alone is what you need..."

Better than you can imagine.

"...And other times, what you need is a good place to sleep. The library should be closing soon, and this dusty room hardly makes for felicitous accommodations. So why don't we leave together before it does and you tell me your name? Then you won't have to be alone." :)

Chris was right that sometimes people needed to be, but his small sigh betrayed his lack of conviction. As if being by himself was not a choice, but a resignation. If his retreat was a cursed, cobwebbed library section, then he wanted to be forgotten entirely, not simply left alone. He played it off as the peaceful respite that everyone could relate to, but this was seclusion, the kind that only Quince would understand.

You're too young to waste away like this, kid. Don't know where you live, but let's get the hell out of here.
 
"Oh uh yeah! Ok cool we could do that" he nodded trying to look happy with the out come, he wasn't disappointed, just anxious about the high likelihood of more personal questions he would be unable to answer "I-I'm uh Chris by the way, not a very good name I know but it's the only one I have" he joke nervously
 
"I-I'm uh Chris by the way, not a very good name I know but it's the only one I have."

The gentleman learned a few things about Chris in this short interaction. For some reason, he was secluding himself and playing it off. Playing himself down, too. He was awkward in conversation, and even his agreement sounded more like a concession. Perhaps his isolation was simply the product of social anxiety?

"It's a fine name. And of course it's the only one you have!" responded Casey with a reassuring chuckle, however nervous Chris's delivery. "After all, who would want to be two people?"

~~~

Normally, Casey didn't mind low temperatures, since he was wrapped in nice clothes from head to toe. But the air was especially chilly tonight, almost enough to make him miss the cozy library. After checking out the second title, he had no real reason to stay, however, and continued on toward the Pokémon Center.

He returned sooner than he'd expected. If he wasn't just walking faster in the cold, then the advanced building's design, which contrasted the aging room that he'd gotten used to, made it easier to spot. There, Casey slowed his pace and finally stopped at the sliding doors.

"Chris, I hope you aren't quaking anymore than usual in this biting cold," he turned back and joked.

At least the two had gotten some fresh air. Maybe that's why the kid was short. He hung out in a dusty library all day, breathing all kinds of stunting particles. How he developed socially rather than physically was still more worrying. So Casey offered him a means to tame his nerves, though whether he did this out of genuine kindness would remain an unanswerable question.

"I'm not sure where you live, but I'm staying at this Pokémon Center. I suppose this is where we'll part ways, so I wish you a relaxing rest of the evening," he concluded. "On that subject, though, I couldn't help but notice that you've caught an awful case of the jitters. I'm a doctor of Pokémon, but I may know a thing or two about human afflictions."

The man turned away from Chris, wearing the same grin that suggested he was fine in his little world and could easily forget this boy. His mouth settled back into a soft smile, however, and produced a few more words.

"Earlier, you mentioned adventure. Have you ever considered a journey? It's a maturing experience, one that would help you overcome your inhibitions. See different places, different people than those you've known your whole life," Casey continued, looking over his shoulder. "Who knows? Perhaps you might accompany my two traveling companions and me to Vermillion, when we leave tomorrow morning. They're quite nice." :)

These were the words Casey left him with, raising his hand in goodbye and swiping into the Pokémon Center. In reality, Quince saw this "adventure" as a waste of time and wanted nothing more than for it to end, whatever it might do for Chris. But Casey's gentlemanly inclinations had driven him to speak up and make a grand experience out of it.
 
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Chris could feel his heart pounding against his ribs, he was offered to go out with some people he knew nothing about, on one hand new friends, fun stuff, bonding and all that. On the other hand he had to make friends and do stuff out of his comfort zone and try to be a interesting person for others to enjoy being with

"I-I mean if you wouldn't mind I'd like to tag along, I'll need to let my dads know but I think I could uh do that" he said with a barely noticeable smile "why did you say that Chris!" He thought panicking
 
"Of course. You should let your loved ones know before you make such decisions," added Casey, smiling reassuringly, bidding Chris goodnight, and disappearing into the Pokémon Center.

Exchanging the usual pleasantries, he greeted Nurse Joy at the desk and ascended the stairs to his room, where he would descend into a deep slumber. When his polite knocking received no response, the gentleman surmised that Levi was either out at night, or out like a light.

Long as I don't see a naked dude coming in, I'm good. As for Chris's dads, they can do whatever they want. Don't know why the kid was so panicky about it.

Levi wouldn't need to approach the door with the same concern because Casey would be under the covers by then, and even if he weren't, he was as fully clothed in sleepwear as his standard outfit. His fedora yielded to a night cap. His blazer surrendered to a striped blue shirt. His dress pants fell like a white flag and checkered pajamas rose in their place. Finally, he lay defeated on his bed, reflecting on the first day of this new journey that interrupted his life in obscurity.

Winnie’s stupidity was amusing, and it might just kill the brain cells he had left. Levi seemed to have his hands full with her, for Casey hardly got to know the guy. He was just her childhood friend. Elliot was bright, but she realized early on that she had better things to do. The timid Chris was her polar opposite when it came to decision-making. Casey’s first impression was that of an angsty brat who hid in the library because no one understood him, and the kid’s earlier tone suggested that. But Chris turned out to be meeker than he’d thought. At least he’d have a better reason to travel than running an errand, if he tagged along.

Casey, however, was less interested in these characters, following instead the characters who were condemned to the cobwebbed covers of a cursed book, rotting away in an abandoned section as he’d been in Pallet Town. Reading through the first few pages of Strange Lights, he felt young again. It was a story about a couple of teenagers who banded together to achieve a common purpose, told from different points of view. There was nothing wrong with it, as far as he could tell. In fact, he fell asleep comfortably with the forbidden text at his nightstand.

~~~

The morning seemed just as normal, soft rays of light peeking through the blinds and a waking eyelid peeking back. It didn't take long for Casey to brush his already sparkling teeth, remove his nightclothes, and emerge from his suite in expensive attire. Yes, everything seemed fine.

The nurse downstairs, however, wore a worried expression that belied the name "Joy." Her troubled face piqued his curiosity, and he asked as gently as the sun had entered his room, without prying.

"Good morning, Nurse Joy. Is something amiss?"

"Oh, good morning. It's just that... well, if you step outside you'll see for yourself."

"I'm not sure what's transpired, but I hope the rest of your day is swell," he briefly sympathized, grinning and nodding at the receptionist.

Casey excused himself from the Pokémon Center with not a hint of anticipation in his step. Even when his emotions flared inside, his pearly whites denied them air. Whatever feeling rose from the pit of his stomach at the sight beyond the sliding doors would similarly crash against his smile.

Like crowds of people, crashing into each other, scrambling in the direction of the museum, cameras flashing irritatingly, held back by yellow tape and police warnings. What he witnessed was utter chaos. There was no elegant way to navigate it, so Casey stayed away from the swarm entirely and resigned himself to a distant view. But he didn't need to be close to notice a glaring omission in the Pewter cityscape—the museum. Overnight, the staple of its tourist economy had completely vanished.

Well, someone went overboard. A pricey artifact wasn't enough, so they done stole the whole building, thought the indifferent Quince.

The more intrigued gentleman, however, went out of his way to tap a fellow observer on the shoulder.

"Do you know what might've caused such an uproar?" he inquired.

"You haven't heard? The museum's collapsed! There's a giant sinkhole where it used to be!" responded the panicked townsman. "Under the building... they found a massive Diglett's nest, stretching into the sewers and beyond. That must explain all the reports of Pokémon springing from toilets. Apparently, this Steel-type variety can survive in toxic waste, and its excessive digging has shaken our city's foundations..."

"A Steel-type variety? That sounds like... Alolan Diglett," surmised the researcher. "But this is Kanto, is it not?"

Though Casey was hardly an environmental activist, the purported occurrence of foreign subspecies here was worrying. Had the region industrialized so much that it effected microevolutionary changes in native Pokémon? Did the destruction of an old development herald a new development in his field? Was the traditional city of Pewter yielding to the inexorable consequences of expansion?

"I don't know what it is anymore..." the civilian confessed. "A couple years back there was an overpopulation of Grimer in our sewers. Pewter's modernized over time, producing more and more waste that created a suitable environment for them. Now it's the complete opposite. I'm not seeing this region's Pokémon now."

"Their rapid growth must've threatened the underground nest, causing the Diglett to evolve as a defense mechanism. Otherwise, they would've been outcompeted," Casey supposed, smiling at the formation of a sound hypothesis.

His seemingly unshakable optimism, however, was showing cracks like the storied museum. Yet he stood, unable to pass through the crowd and resume his journey. Casey was a man of science, but his superstitious hand fell to his leather bag, where a cursed text rested comfortably in the midst of disaster.​
 
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