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Wings

By TheNeverendingMeep

Thriller / Adventure

Someone's Missing

Accumula Town never has been the busiest of places, only really serving as a gateway for those venturing to or from Striaton City. The famed Professor Cypress living just a few kilometres away may be the reason this little hamlet receives any tourism at all, but a quiet and secluded lifestyle isn’t always a bad thing.

Some like it that way.

Carefully nestled in between the poke centre and a picturesque line of trees sits a quaint little house. Modest and secretive, this humble home is inhabited by a happy family of four.

The first of these four members is Sparky the Emolga. Roused by the thin beam of light creeping its way through the poorly closed curtains, she stirs gently, and carefully rolls out of her ‘ball’ sleeping position. With a stretch and a yawn, Sparky rubs her shiny eyes and peels away from the comfortable beanbag she was sleeping in. She makes sure to take extra care, so she doesn’t disturb the peaceful sleep of her pokémon room-mates; Socks the Furret and Sir Higglesworth the Kadabra.

Socks has draped herself across Sir Higglesworth’s shoulders, and the pair are currently lost in a happy slumber amidst the beanbag, so Sparky doesn’t want to upset them.

Although she acknowledges that her name isn’t exactly original, Sparky is perfectly happy with this name, as it was bestowed upon her by her loving trainer, and therefore she wouldn’t change it for the world. She might not have the most creative nicknaming taste, their trainer, but in Sparky’s eyes, she is the most loving and wonderful trainer a pokémon could ask for. Speaking of which…

“Where’s Miss Holly?” she mumbles quietly, noticing the crumpled sheets of her trainer’s bed, barren and empty.  This discovery has her a little confused, because she is normally the first one up -being the most energetic of them all - and by far the best morning pokémon among them. Her trainer, on the other hand, prefers to sleep in until a slightly later time, being of that age where humans are lazy. Holly might be the nicest trainer in the world, according to Sparky, but waking her up too early does not yield the best results. Sparky has tried.

There was one time where Holly slept in until eleven AM, which is a good three or four hours later than Sparky’s stomach can normally stand without her breakfast. The little Emolga tried to wake Holly up by poking her in the cheek a few times, but didn’t enjoy the after-effect of being thrown at opposite wall. The beanbag was thankfully in the way to soften her collision, but Sparky learned not to disturb her trainer’s sleep. Once was enough.

“Maybe Miss Holly’s making a super special breakfast!” She muses, eyes lighting up at the thought. Delectable images of pancakes, pokeblocks and home-made poffins float lazily across her mind, and the invigorating notion causes her to forget her usual morning routine of washing her face and checking her appearance in the bathroom, and she instead rushes – almost glides – downstairs, now wanting a hearty feast of poke-pancake-poffinblocks!

“Hmm, strange…” Sparky mutters, sliding clumsily across the lino floor of the kitchen with her nostrils full of… nothing, “Miss Holly isn’t preparing a super special breakfast?”

Sparky raises a pensive paw to her chin and thinks for a second, blinking her beady little eyes. “Ooh!” she squeaks, struck with inspiration, and dashes off again.

She’s careful to avoid knocking things over on another trip down the carpeted hallway, like the dresser table with the vase full of flowers, and she scoots into the lounge, the sheen of her black, white and yellow fur shimmering in the soft Saturday sunlight. However, the lounge yields no answers either. Her trainer isn’t sat in her favourite chair, watching the TV and knitting like she often does. The curtains are open, but there’s no one to be found…

Sparky wanders over to the adjoining dining room, where a clean and tidy table sits innocently. All six chairs are tucked in underneath it, aligned almost too perfectly, and nothing appears out of place.

“Weird…” Sparky mutters, understandably lost. “Where is Miss Holly?”

A slow trudge back to the stairs has the little Emolga defeated. Some letters flop in through the letterbox as she toddles past, which she promptly picks up out of boredom, and arranges them neatly.

“I wish I could read human…” she murmurs, squinting at the typed address on the letter, “Oh well. I’ll bring these to Miss Holly, and she can read them to me!”

Another slow venture has Sparky ascending the stairs again, passing by the photos on the wall. Sparky has always enjoyed looking at these photos, because they tell her the story of her life with Holly, Socks and Sir Higglesworth.

Holly started out in the Johto region, where she befriended Sir Higglesworth as an Abra about five years ago. He was slow to learn, but with Holly’s careful patience, he eventually grew into a wise and knowledgeable Kadabra; but not before Socks joined them as a Sentret!

 Socks was a timid little thing, jumping at the slightest of sounds or movements. Holly worked Socks through this constant fear however, and although Socks has never been the brightest of pokémon, she and Sir Higglesworth quickly became friends, as dictated by the third photo on the frame. It shows Socks draped across Sir Higglesworth’s shoulders like a makeshift scarf, and Sir Higglesworth donning a hat and cane to please Holly the photographer, as it was the sophisticated way in which he presents himself that earned him the nickname.

The fourth photo depicts Holly travelling by boat with her two companions to a new region; Unova. A light breeze is blowing through her long dark hair, and she’s snuggled in close to Socks – now a Furret – and Sir Higglesworth so that they can all fit into the self-taken shot, where Socks is resting across both of their shoulders this time, and Holly herself is crouching down slightly so that she’s roughly level with Sir Higglesworth, and pressing her face against his. Her bright blue eyes are sparkling in the reflected sunlight, while Liberty Island can barely be seen just beyond the horizon, with the towering spires of Castelia City beyond that, and innumerable choppy waves meeting a cloudy sky, painting the rest of the picture.

A couple of steps further up the stairs shows Sparky’s entry into the family. She and Holly met by chance in Route 5. Sparky was feasting on a merry meal of Pecha Berries in her tree when a Natu flew past, startling her. She fell from her tree and into the long grass, which rustled loudly and attracted the attention of a nearby trainer; Holly.

Wanting to defend her territory, Sparky valiantly sprang into action, but she was fooled by the sneaky Socks, who – at Holly’s command – thwarted Sparky’s intentions of paralysing Socks with a Thunder Wave by using the very same move, only faster!

Unable to move, Sparky next found herself inside of a poke ball, and the next thing she knew, she was a part of the family, as indicated by the sixth and final picture on the stairs;

It’s set a couple of years after the previous photo, where Holly has again moved residence, to the quiet and peaceful Accumula town. Autumn leaves are fluttering merrily across the sky, and all four of them are standing outside their current house.

“Miss Holly looks tired in this picture…” Sparky analyses, noticing the dark rings underneath Holly’s eyes and the frail smile that accompanied it, looking almost as if it were forced. The tone of her skin is a shade paler in this photo than the previous five, and the spark in her eyes isn’t present, but there’s no doubt in Sparky’s mind that her trainer is happy in this photo. She’s glancing upwards to her ecstatic Emolga, who’s perched atop her head and balancing on one foot, while Sir Higglesworth is rolling his eyes at Sparky’s mischief, and Socks is stretching across both pairs of shoulders, smiling obliviously. Holly is wearing a long sleeved hoodie instead of one of her usual tee shirts, and has her arms crossed this time, having employed one of Accumula Town’s residents to take the picture.

“Such awesome memories…” Sparky chimes, tearing her eyes away from the nostalgia and climbing up the last stair, where the bathroom lay directly ahead.

“I’ll give these to Miss Holly later.” she decides, placing the letters down on a small table outside the bathroom and entering inside so she can start her morning ritual, albeit about twenty minutes late.

Sparky stumbles up the steps to reach the porcelain sink, so that she can access the taps, and begins to wash her face with her wet paws, very conscious of the static electricity that this could create. However, something reflected in the taps has her attention…

“Hunh?” she squeaks, spinning around to confront the distraction, “…hey, wow!”

Jumping from the steps, Sparky finally finds her trainer;

“Miss Holly, I didn’t know you could fly!”

But as much as Sparky wills it, Holly does not respond.

“Your eyes are closed…” Sparky muses, “Does it take a lot of effort to fly like that?”

Still no response.

“Oh right… I don’t speak human,” Sparky chuckles to herself, “I know! I’ll get Sir Higglesworth! He’s bound to know!”

“Stay there Miss Holly, I’ll be right back!” Sparky calls, and dashes back into the bedroom, where both of her friends are still fast asleep. Her trainer goes nowhere.

“Guys, come quick!” Sparky cries, shaking the first of the two awake, “It’s amazing!”

“…what is it, Sparky?” Sir Higglesworth’s deep voice grumbles, slowly rising out of his slumber.

“It’s Miss Holly!” Sparky chimes enthusiastically, “She’s flying!

“Flying…?” Sir Higglesworth falters, not quite awake yet. He’s used to Sparky pulling pranks and telling ‘mistruths’ just for fun, so the wizened Kadabra is predictably cynical of this young, naïve Emolga, stating that their trainer can fly.

“Come quick, I’ll show you!” Sparky encourages, grabbing Sir Higglesworth’s arm in a poor attempt to drag him out of their beanbag bed and to the bathroom.

“Alright, all right…” Sir Higglesworth grumbles, allowing himself to be pulled out of the beanbag. Meanwhile, a still sleeping Socks simply slides from his shoulders, flopping lazily onto the beanbag without so much as a stir.

“Flying. Peh.” Sir Higglesworth yawns, slowly padding after the excited Sparky along the soft floors, “Humans cannot fly, period. Why on earth does Sparky insist that Lady Holly can?”

“C’mon already!” Sparky pleads impatiently at the door, “Miss Holly can’t fly forever!”

“I assure you, Sparky,” The Kadabra states, ambling half-consciously through the doorway, “Humans cannot-”

But then he sees. His eyes widen with panic, and his spoon falls to the ground with a clatter. For a few moments, all Sir Higglesworth can do is stare.

“See? Told ya Miss Holly could fly!” Sparky exclaims, jumping about excitedly.

“Y-y-yes, that is… indeed, a rather brilliant example of flying!” Sir Higglesworth forces a smile, lying through his teeth, “D-did you want to go make some breakfast, Sparky?! I am dreadfully hungry all of a sudden!”

“No way, not yet!” Sparky cries, “I’ve gotta show Socks! She’ll love to see this!”

“No, don’t do-” Sir Higglesworth starts, but his plea falls on deaf ears as Sparky charges out of the bathroom and down the hallway.

“…that.” he sighs. But his attention then snaps back to his current problem; Holly.

“Lady Holly, respond!” he shouts, trying to get her attention. She does nothing.

“Lady Holly, I implore you, please respond!” he cries, floating up with telekinesis and shaking her. But his efforts are in vain…

Meanwhile, Sparky is slowly rousing the lazy Socks out of her sleep.

“C’mon Socks! C’moooonnnnnn!” Sparky pleas, poking the young Furret repeatedly.

“Nooo, I don’t wanna go to Day Care…” Socks mumbles semi-consciously, rolling over and burying herself further into the beanbag, “…you can’t make me…”

“Gah…” Sparky grumbles, losing patience. However, she has an ace up her sleeve. Charging up a little spark of electricity in her palm, an impish glint appears in her eyes, and she jabs Socks with the static!

“YAAAAGH!” Socks screeches, jumping out of the beanbag and several feet into the air, “What the?!”

“Oh, yay! You’re up!” Sparky giggles, curling her hand into a fist behind her back.

“…yup. I’m up,” A sleepy Socks mumbles, blinking her tired eyes. “But not for long. Come at me, beanbag.” she challenges, spreading her limbs out again and moving to collapse back into it.

“Nooo, no no no, no more sleep!” Sparky cries, diving in the way and holding Socks up, “I’ve gotta show you something. It’s awesome!”

“Wha? Awesome?” Socks murmurs, retiring from the attempt to crash back into the beanbag and instead settling on just a stretch of her long, skinny body. “What’s awesome?”

“Miss Holly’s flying!” Sparky gasps, “Come see!”

“Flying?” Socks responds, just as sceptical as Sir Higglesworth was. She shakes her head in an attempt to dislodge some more drowsiness, and says “Whaddya mean flying? She’s a human. They can’t fly… can they?”

“Yeah, I thought that myself!” Sparky exclaims, “But then I saw it, and Sir Higglesworth agrees with me, and he knows everything, so it must be true!”

“Higgle says so…?” Socks queries, surprised, “So you’re not making it all up?”

“Nope!” Sparky cries, “It really really is true! Quick, come see!”

“Alright…” Socks  mumbles, blinking blearily, “You’re gonna have to drag me though. My legs are still asleep.”

“Gah, fine…” Sparky half chuckles, half groans, and strains to pull the lazy Socks’ body towards the bathroom, where a distraught Sir Higglesworth is fretting.

“Oh bother, what do I do?!” he pleads with himself desperately, trying to think of some ingenious answer before more innocent eyes can be scarred. But the sounds of Sparky dragging Socks’ unwilling body ever closer forces him to take drastic measures.

“That will have to do!” he exclaims, exiting the room and closing the door sharply. Just in time for Socks and Sparky to appear from around the corner.

“Heyyy, Higgle!” Sparky grunts, still dragging Socks for all she’s worth, “Is Miss Holly still flying?”

“Umm…” Sir Higglesworth hesitates, unable to think of a response in time.

“Aww, don’t tell me she made it up?” Socks groans, her face falling into a dejected frown, “I fell for it again! Stupid Socks, stupid!”

“No no, Lady Holly is indeed flying!” Sir Higglesworth stammers, if only to placate Socks’ plummeting spirits, “She just wants some time to practise and, uhh… improve her technique, so that she may impress you further next time!”

“B-but I haven’t seen this time yet…” Socks mumbles, rolling onto her own feet at long last. “Can I see Trainer now, please?”

“I am afraid she has locked the door, Socks!” Sir Higglesworth flails an excuse, “She must really want to practice!”

“Locked?” Socks queries, raising a suspicious eyebrow, “… that door has a lock?”

“Yes it does, Socks!” Sir Higglesworth insists, slapping her hand to stop her from trying the handle.

“Ow! Heyyy, what was that for, Higgle?!” Socks complains, recoiling from Sir Higglesworth’s assault, “That was hurty, and I don’t like things that hurt!”

“That was for disbelieving in my ingenuousness,” Sir Higglesworth snaps, “Now, do not do that again, okay Socks? I abhor being doubted.”

“…okay, you just said a lotta really long words…” Socks yawns, narrowing her eyes at Sir Higglesworth, “But whatever it means, I don’t agree with it. I wanna see Trainer flying!”

“Well err, h-how about I make you both some breakfast first?!” Sir Higglesworth suggests, struck by a lucky bout of inspiration.

“Breakfast?!” both girls shout at once.

“About time!” Sparky cries, practically swooping downstairs, “I’ve been waiting all morning!”

Socks follows after Sparky, ambling clumsily down the stairs with her long, unwieldy body, and Sir Higglesworth waits until they’re both out of eyeshot.

Before breaking down.

“Oh dear…” he sniffs, a tear escaping from his eye, “…W-why, Lady Holly? Was there anything I could have done?”

“C’monnnn, Higgle!” Socks’ voice echoes from downstairs, “Making breakfast means making breakfast, dude! Food doesn’t cook itself!”

Sir Higglesworth stares blankly at the top photo on the wall for a few moments, depicting the four of them together outside the house, and mutters, “…how will I tell them?”

Gathering himself, the wizened Kadabra slowly descends the stairs, leaving his beloved trainer to fly in peace…


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