Burnout 2.1

  August 2015

  I took my sweet time getting back to town. Though I didn’t feel much stronger, I found myself tiring less. Maybe it wasn’t a matter of increased vitality or stamina, stats like in the games, but a greater spirit, something that couldn’t be readily quantified. Whatever it was, just carrying on throughout the day was a marvelous experience.

  The four of us moved through the forest silently. I had my trusty crossbow in hand and Sir Swagsire lodged comfortably in my backpack. I had to wrap the little guy in a section of tarp to keep him from dripping poisonous mucus all over my supplies, but he looked like he was having fun.

  Hearing three soft chirps in succession, I looked up to the treetops and found Scout. He began gliding southwest. He’d found prey. He was straying off the path somewhat, but between Scout, Rocket, and myself, there was no need to fear getting lost.

  Four minutes later, I crouched behind a tree as a herd of deer grazed at the nearby shrubbery. It was a peaceful sight, very idyllic. Unfortunately, I’d have to ruin it. We’d cleared a dungeon. We deserved a celebratory meal all to ourselves before heading home.

  I motioned for Rocket and Scout to circle around. Between the three of us, we’d pin them in a triangle formation. I’d take the first shot. If I missed, Rocket or Scout would secure the kill.

  These were mule deer, a type of common game animal. They traveled in herds consisting of family groups of five to seven, but those family groups combined in late summer for mating in the fall and protection during the winter months. This herd must contain two smaller families because I counted eleven.

  My breath stilled. Steadily, I raised my crossbow and set my sights on a mature doe. She had no fawns by her, so I assumed she was fair game.

  Then, I felt a slight, almost ephemeral pull. Unsure, I chose to trust my instincts and aimed a little away from the deer’s heart. Fired as-is, I would strike the shoulder, a painful but nonlethal blow.

  One of the deer raised its head in silent alarm. As one, the herd began to run, urged on by something I could neither see nor smell. I wasn’t sure what had given me away, but something did.

  I loosed my bolt just as the doe jumped forward and the bolt found her right through the heart and one lung. It was a great shot, one of the better ones I’d made at this distance. The only way I could have done better was if I’d struck her through the eye and into the brain, sparing her the additional pain. Unfortunately, I wasn’t that confident in my aim.

  The herd scattered and Rocket and Scout jumped into action. Rocket closed from below in a blur of beige and brown as Scout swooped down from above. With how fast they were, the deer had no time to react. Scout used a localized Gust to knock my deer down and Rocket’s jaws closed around her, ending her life quickly.

  I wondered how many deer there would be in ten years. These mundane animals, no matter how well-adapted they were to the environment, couldn’t compete with pokemon. Granted, even normal predators knew to leave the young alone and pokemon were certainly smart enough to manage their kills, but that was a stopgap at best.

  Perhaps, like other apex predators, pokemon did not breed as quickly? The games and anime implied that newborn pokemon could immediately fight to some degree, such as Ash’s larvitar, but that couldn’t possibly be true in real life, right?

  There was also Misty’s togepi, who effectively was a baby for all of the Johto episodes. Was that because Misty coddled her? Or because the togepi species naturally required that extra developmental period? Likely, the answer varied based on species.

  Whatever the case, I had a feeling that sooner or later, these easy prey animals would go the way of the dinosaurs. If nothing else, people would clear the dungeons and introduce new species to the various biomes across the planet.

  “Great going, you two,” I congratulated my team. “Help me drag this to camp and we’ll have a feast tonight.”

  On the way back, I was forced to pause when Sir Swagsire hopped out of the tarp pouch in my backpack. He landed on the ground and skipped his way to a nearby rotted log. There, he hocked a loogie at one end, causing the wood to quickly dissolve.

  He began to nudge it with his nose before turning and kicking it. The softened wood broke away, revealing a set of mushrooms I’d not seen before.

  “Woop-Wooper. Woop?” he asked, gesturing to the tree with his nose. He was so cute that I wanted to hug him, mucus-induced paralysis be damned.

  “Mushrooms? Are you saying these are edible?” I asked.

  “Woop!”

  “Got it. Are they edible for you, or for me?”

  “Woop? Wooper.”

  “Sir Swagsire, humans can’t handle the same kinds of poisons that you can,” I explained patiently. “Just like I can’t touch you without my hand going numb, I can’t eat poisonous mushrooms.”

  “Woop…” he mumbled, looking dejected. He kicked his little feet in disappointment. It was heartbreaking. The little guy just wanted to contribute something to our feast. It was almost enough to make me want to risk the unfamiliar mushrooms.

  “Come on, let’s go back to camp.”

  “Woop… Wooper…”

  “How about this? I’ll point out some mushrooms I can eat. Then, you can find them for me next time.”

  “Woop?”

  “Promise.”

  “Woop!” he cheered, bringing a smile to my face.

  To my surprise, I received a system notification from that.

  You have lifted Sir Swagsire's mood. Your Bond Level has increased by 1.

  That was interesting. I now had a Bond Level of seven with Sir Swagsire, which confirmed that the stat referred to my relationship with my pokemon. I still wasn’t sure what it did, but that would likely reveal itself in time. I just hoped it wouldn’t be too difficult to raise as we got closer. Usually, higher levels took, more time, right?

  X

  We got back to camp by about three in the afternoon.

  The camp could barely be considered one. It was the ditch Rocket had made to bury our supplies before going into the dungeon. I dug it all up and got ready for dinner, looking ruefully at the two extra canteens of water.

  I’d left them behind, thinking the extra gallon would be an unnecessary weight, only to struggle needlessly because of my thirst when the dungeon challenge contained complications I hadn’t expected. It was a painful lesson about the unpredictability of the dungeon’s challenges, one I was glad to learn for such a cheap price.

  That night, we feasted on the choicest cuts of venison steak, made some stew for tomorrow morning, and hacked off the leftovers into strips to dry.

  It was nice, eating our fill until we could hardly move anymore. Normally, Rocket and I could subsist on a rabbit a day, plus some rice or beans or what have you. But with two extra mouths to feed and a willingness to gorge ourselves, we had remarkably little of the doe left over when we were done.

  When we were done eating, we lounged lazily and watched the stars as they twinkled into visibility. The peaceful night made it almost seem as though I’d imagined the dungeon. But no, I had Sir Swagsire and the oran and pecha berry seeds to prove my time there.

  X

  I found William Young and Thomas Bree by the gates. Will and Tom were the two gate guards who’d greeted me when I first arrived in Carnelian Bay. It almost seemed poetic that they’d greet me now.

  I’d been gone nine days, two days longer than the week I’d given Jarvis. Hopefully, he hadn’t panicked too much.

  “You look like shit, boss,” Will sassed me as I trudged back beneath the walls.

  “You shut your trap, William,” I shot back, flipping him the bird.

  “Heh, good to see you again. You know, some people said you ran off, went and got yourself killed in a dungeon,” Tom said.

  “Oh, really? Jarvis tell you that? Well, I’m still alive, ain’t I?”

  “Wait, for real? You really went inside? Which one?”

  “Stampede Reservoir. Ground types. It was a pain in the ass.”

  “Shit, what was it like?”

  “Later,” I waved them off. “There’s a lot I need to say, but that can all wait. Shower. Food. Sleep. Then lots of meetings.”

  Will let out a low whistle. “Damn, so you’re one of them fancy Aura Guardians now? That’s what they’re called in Pokemon, right?”

  “Fuck no. I mean, yeah, that’s what they are, but no, I’m not that. I’m awakened, I guess, but it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. It doesn’t instantly make me Superman, you hear?”

  “Sounds complicated,” Tom said. “Well, go on, then. You get your shut-eye, bossman. Maybe check in with Jarvis first, I think he was talking about getting a search party ready for you. Fair warning, that Sabrina chick has been worried sick, too. She might kill you.”

  “She might,” I agreed with a rueful smile. “Thanks for the heads up, boys.”

  X

  I made it back to my camper after checking in with Jarvis. He promised to give Sabrina and Austin a heads up but told me I should go find them soon-ish.

  My camper was the same one Tom Swansom gave me when I first arrived. It’d been parked onto the golfing green alongside maybe twenty-two more, making for a trailer park of sorts. It had a nice awning for shade and a small garden table I ate from.

  Most of Carnelian Bay lived in repurposed houses and offices so there was enough space between mine and my nearest neighbors that we never felt cramped. Rocket and I would often roast potatoes or make stew over an open fire right outside our camper, usually out of rabbit or fowl. It beat going down to the canteen area.

  “Well, here we are,” I said as I opened my camper and set my bags down. If I wasn’t mistaken, I’d filled the tank up top a few days before I left so there should still be water for a shower. It’d be a bit stale, but at this point, I’d take it.

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  “Tran. Tranquil,” Scout cooed before finding his perch, an old shower rod I’d cut in half and attached to one side of my camper. He had a little bed inside too, but he preferred to sleep with the wind brushing his feathers.

  “Linoone,” Rocket barked, rushing inside. He immediately buried himself into our bed, rubbing dirt and who knew what else into the blankets.

  “Oi! Wash up first!” I shouted. I tried to wrestle him out of the sheets, but only managed to get myself tangled as well.

  “Lin.”

  “You’re getting the sheets dirty.”

  “Linoone.”

  “No. Off.”

  “Oone,” he chuffed smugly. He was over seventy pounds of fur and muscle. Not only that, his weight was distributed like a pool noodle. There was no easy way to pick him up, especially if he wanted to lounge around.

  “You’re such a pain,” I grunted, finally giving up.

  “Oone. Lin-Linoone.”

  “Yeah, yeah, fi–No, damn it, Swagsire!” I cried as my wooper decided that also meant it was okay for him to jump on my bed too.

  It looked like I’d be washing my sheets.

  Or maybe, sleeping while paralyzed via wooper-mucus would be more restful? Aura didn’t give me any obvious physical enhancements, but maybe it could help me develop an immunity with time. Food for thought.

  “Really? Please don’t tell me you named your quagsire ‘Swagsire,’” I heard a familiar voice say. Peering outside my window, I found Professor Kush herself leaning against the little garden table outside my camper.

  “Sabrina! Sorry, I was so distracted by these rascals that I didn’t hear you coming,” I said, shooting my pokemon a pointed glare. Scout should have warned me, but he was happy to float down and perch himself on her shoulder. Traitor.

  “So… New pokemon? You succeeded then?”

  “I did. I decided to take a few days after I got out to recoup. How’ve things been here?” I asked. Stepping outside, I pulled the petite blonde into a hug.

  She sank into my chest before recoiling. “You stink.”

  “I haven’t showered in a week.”

  “Eww… But yeah, Jarvis has been keeping things stable. Not much happened lately. Although, there have been new pokemon people have been reporting.”

  “Ground types?”

  “How’d yo–The dungeon.”

  “Yeah. When I cleared it, I received a message that said all pokemon in the dungeon would now be distributed throughout appropriate biomes.”

  “That’s… That could be a problem,” she said softly. There was fear there, and for good reason. “D-Do you think that’s how all pokemon came to be?”

  “I don’t know,” I replied honestly. “Maybe? Did Ziegler clear the dungeon in the Black Forest first? Or did pokemon arrive before he got his houndour?”

  “I… I can’t remember. Either way, if there’s an influx of new pokemon every time you clear a dungeon, it might be better not to, even if you could.”

  “Maybe. Look, I really need a shower. I also need to wash my sheets if I want to sleep in my own house tonight.”

  “Why?”

  “Wooper mucus is poisonous. It’s a numbing agent and the little shit just rubbed himself all over my bed.”

  “Hehe, I can’t believe you named him Swagsire. No wonder he’s messing with you.”

  “Oi! He picked the name himself!” I cried defensively. “And screw you, Sab, it’s Sir Swagsire.”

  “Of course,” she said with an indulgent smile. She turned to walk away. “I just wanted to check in, Shane. You get cleaned up first, but see me when you can. We really do need to talk about all this.”

  “We do. There’s a lot more I need to tell you.”

  “Yeah. And Shane?”

  “Yo.”

  “Welcome back.”

  X

  After washing up and giving myself a shave, I tracked down Sabrina. She was conveniently at the ranger station so I wouldn’t have to look for my second right after. Rocket and Scout were dozing lazily in my camper, though I had no doubt that the restless pokemon would pick themselves up in short order.

  I did however insist on carrying Sir Swagsire. He was new to town and I wanted people to know that he was mine, and thus not to be attacked nor fled from.

  “That’s… That’s not a wooper,” Sabrina said. She and Jarvis looked suspiciously at Sir Swagsire. Though to be fair, I was holding my new wooper with a pair of oven mitts, those silicone kind with a full plastic coating over the surface.

  “Woop-Wooper,” Sir Swagsire replied. He squirmed in my hands and twitched his crossbones-like whiskers happily.

  “Okay… So that might be a wooper…”

  “Is that one of those weird variant pokemon?” Jarvis asked. “Like that sandshrew we found a few months back?”

  “From what the System told me, yes,” I said. “When I cleared the dungeon, I received a pokemon from the System. The little guy’s labeled as a Paldean wooper on my status screen.”

  “Huh, and only you can see that screen…”

  I opened it up in front of them. “It’s open now. If you can’t see it, I guess it’s either unique to me or only visible to those who were awakened as well.”

  “Damn. Well, what’s a Paldean wooper?”

  “I thought the word ‘Paldean’ referred to a region or country, like ‘American’ or ‘Mexican,’” I said, “but truthfully, I don’t know.”

  “It could also be the name of the person who discovered this subspecies of wooper,” Sabrina pointed out. “‘Paldean’ so maybe ‘Paldea?’ Padilla is a common last name here so maybe that’s the poke-world’s analog.”

  “That might also be a possibility. Whatever the case, the System didn’t clarify.”

  “That’s a pity. It looks like its type should be different.”

  “He, and his name is Sir Swagsire.”

  “You’ve gotta be fucking with me,” Jarvis deadpanned.

  “I know, right? Way to pick the laziest name you could think of,” Sabrina laughed, punching me lightly in the shoulder.

  “Woop! Wooper woop!” Swagsire croaked, almost hopping out of my hands.

  “He says it’s not lazy. It’s a noble, dignified name for a noble and dignified pokemon like himself,” I said, mostly guessing. Judging by the smug look on his face, I guessed right. The little one had a bit of an ego. “Besides, I threw out a few names before and Sir Swagsire was the only one he liked.”

  “Really? Which names?” Jarvis asked. “Tell us so we can laugh at you.”

  I rolled my eyes but obliged. “Crossbones, because of his whiskers.”

  “Huh, okay, but it doesn’t fit a wooper at all. Like, maybe for a marowak.”

  “I also tried Blooper.”

  “Okay, I’ll give you that one. That’s cute.”

  “Yeah, but he didn’t want it because he wanted a name that’d fit even when he evolved.”

  “So, Sir Swagsire.”

  “So, Sir Swagsire.”

  “Ehh, still silly, but I ain’t gonna tell a pokemon what he can and can’t call himself.”

  “Good choice.”

  “But boss, what’s with the oven mitts?”

  “Wooper mucus is poisonous,” Sabrina said. “That was true for the Johtoan wooper too and that one’s just a water and ground type. What type is the Paldean variant?”

  “Johtoan? So we’re going to assume ‘Paldean’ refers to the region?”

  “We may as well,” she shrugged. “It’s not like we have any other information to go on. From now on, if a variant is discovered, I’m going to log the original species based on the generation they were first released in. Kantoan, Johtoan, et cetera.”

  “Fair enough. And yeah, Swagsire’s got an abnormal type. According to him, he’s a ground and poison dual type instead of water. I don’t know if that makes his poison stronger, but I’m not risking it, hence the oven mitts.”

  “Huh, cute, but dangerous.”

  “That’s pokemon in a nutshell. He knows not to hug anyone, or leave his slime lying around.”

  “Actually, maybe we can collect it? Dr. Lansdowne or Dr. Nguyen should be given the chance to study it. Lots of medicines were developed from poisons even on earth, you know.”

  “Fair point.”

  “Now, tell us everything that happened in the dungeon. I want to know about the System, what it said, and all the pokemon you encountered. If they’ve been sent out into the world, the other rangers need to know about it.”

  “Agreed. Don’t worry, I made sure to update my journal when I got out of there,” I said. I pulled out said journal and began to flip through it. “It was a ground type dungeon, but with a focus on semi-aquatic pokemon. I’d seen some pokemon that were already out in the wild, such as geodude, but also several that I’d never encountered before then.

  “For starters, cubone, both varieties of wooper, gligar, swinub, two kinds of stunfisk, and tympole. I found them all so they and their evolutions should be out there somewhere. The gligar was a huge pain in the ass and is a nocturnal predator.”

  “Hold on, two kinds of stunfisk? You found another one?” Sabrina asked with a worried frown. “They’re the ground and electric type flounder-like pokemon, right?”

  “Yeah. The one I found had steel fins that closed like a beartrap. Fucker almost took my leg,” I warned them. “They seem to live in mud banks and the dungeon was a ground type so we can assume they lost the electric type in favor of steel.”

  “Okay, that’s good information. What else?”

  We went on like that, with Jarvis occasionally chiming in. He didn’t know as much about pokemon as us, but he had some good ideas when it came to preventive and protective measures rangers could take.

  I also told them about the oddities I saw. There was that red shovel I skipped over, mostly because I assumed most things in the dungeon were traps. Then there was that ominous cave. There could be nothing inside, or maybe a pokemon I’d never seen before.

  “Shane… Was… Was it the right thing to do?” Sabrina asked carefully.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You have aura now, right? But… But the world feels a lot more dangerous because you cleared the dungeon.”

  “The System said ‘appropriate habitats.’ I don’t think all of these pokemon are automatically going to be found near Tahoe.”

  “We don’t know that. The dungeon had them here so they might all have adapted somehow.”

  “Yeah, boss, no offense, but if all we got out of clearing the dungeon was Sir Swagsire, then we might be worse off,” Jarvis frowned. “A new pokemon is great, but not when the environment around us gets half a dozen species.”

  “You’re not wrong, but the dungeon also gave us a bit more than that.” I dug around in my pocket before placing a ziploc bag on the table. Inside were seeds, washed and carefully dried. “These are oran and pecha berry seeds. The bigger ones are pecha.”

  “Like… From the games?”

  “Yeah. General health recovery and a universal antidote for poisons. If we can cultivate these…”

  “Then we have magic drugs. But, but there’s no guarantee these work like in the games.”

  “Given how pokemon seem to run on what’s effectively magic, I don’t see why not. Sure, an oran berry might not restore ten HP, whatever that means in real life, but it might be something close to a universal vitamin.”

  “That doesn’t exist. Do you know how many types of vitamins your body needs? And in different amounts, too.”

  “You know what I mean. Maybe some low-level regeneration?”

  “Or it’s just a tasty, oversized blueberry. Still, you do have a point. Even if a pecha berry doesn’t act as a universal antidote, it might work when treating most forms of poison.”

  “Exactly. The way I see it, whenever someone, somewhere in the world, clears a dungeon, the entire world gets updated with new pokemon.”

  “It would explain how pokemon showed up all over the world…”

  “Yeah, but the rest of the world doesn’t get whatever the clear reward is,” I pointed out. “Nor do they get to know just what species were added. So I doubt the clear rewards would be anything to scoff at.”

  “So you’re saying it’s better to clear them on our own, while we can acquire more advantages,” Sabrina finished for me. She placed her head on the counter and let out a sigh. “That’s… That’s probably true, but it’s also risky.”

  “It is. I don’t plan on going to another dungeon for a while, but I also don’t think we should sit around and wait for the world to change around us. Because it will, one way or another.”

  “You’re right. The town isn’t going to like this though.”

  “They’ll just have to deal. Think we should host a town hall soon?”

  “We should. If nothing else, people need to be brought up to date on new pokemon so they don’t get themselves killed. That can wait until you get your physical though.”

  “My physical? There’s nothing wrong with me, Sab.”

  “Yeah, but I want to know what effects aura has on you. You said you didn’t notice any major changes, but that could be because it’s slow-acting. Either way, we should get a baseline so go visit Dr. Lansdowne.”

  “Aright, fine,” I grumbled halfheartedly. Truthfully, I was grateful. I likely wouldn’t have been this thorough without her riding herd on me.

  Author’s Note

  Welp, here’s arc 2. I honestly didn’t think I’d write this much of this prompt but my commissioner hasn’t requested anything else so I’ve been rolling with it.

  Shane’s gotten his hands on some groundbreaking shit in the berries, but he’s also released all those ground types into the world’s biomes. At the same time, winter is coming and Tahoe winters are cold. Even pre-nukes, Tahoe winters have highs of 44F and lows of 26F. Accounting for climate change, drop that another twelve degrees.

  Animal Fact: Everyone knows honeybees die when they sting because their stingers are attached to their intestines and they literally disembowel themselves, but did you know that male bees (drones) do the same thing when they mate?

  They have sex, then disembowel themselves, leaving their penises inside the would-be queen, before dying shortly after.

  What’s crazy is that this does not keep the queen from mating again. The severed penis sometimes falls out of the queen, but not always. Subsequent males just kinda… pack it in.

  Whatever kinks you thought bees had, you were wrong.

  Thank you for reading. To reach a wider audience, and because I enjoy a more forum-like setup to facilitate discussion, I like to crosspost to a wide variety of websites. You can find them all on my Link Tree: .