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the-present-is-a-gift-au · 3 months

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Chapter 9: In Which the Future Trio are Paid a Visit

Twig knocked on the front door of the Future Trio’s home with the world weighing on her shoulders. Celebi was the one to answer. “Twig, dear, it’s been too long! I couldn’t believe—”

She cut off abruptly when she caught sight of the shadowy figure looming over Twig’s shoulder. Curiously, her expression wasn’t one of terror or fury like Dusknoir and Grovyle wore when they peered through the doorway as well. She regarded Darkrai with a look of… disorientation, almost. Like she was suddenly seeing double and trying to discern what exactly she was staring at. It stirred up some old memory from meeting Celebi in the Dark Future after Team Venture’s brush with death, but she didn’t have time to dwell on the memory when Grovyle was readying an attack and Dusknoir was following shortly behind him.

She gestured to her plus-one. “This is Darkrai. Or Ark. Whichever name you want to use. I met him at Mount Travail. He lost his memories just like I did, so I've been helping him out since we met. Be nice to him. He's sensitive.”

Darkrai regarded her with a look of quiet curiosity, but said nothing. Grovyle and Dusknoir warily dismissed their forming attacks, and Celebi continued to squint at Twig and Darkrai.

"Darkrai, these are the guys I was telling you about— Celebi, and Grovyle, and Dusknoir." She indicated each one as she named them, then put on a strained smile. "Is dinner ready? I'm starved."

The food was great, as it always was, but the meal itself was the most awkward thing Twig had ever gone through, and Grovyle staring at her worriedly the whole time didn't make it any easier. Darkrai made regular attempts at polite conversation, but Dusknoir and Grovyle only ever responded in the most minimalistic ways one could imagine. Celebi meanwhile, despite her insistence before now that if she ever saw Darkrai again she would kill him on sight, was enthusiastically chatting with the same person who had sent her entire timeline into ruin, and she was doing so with a cordialness Twig hadn’t foreseen.

When the moon was high overhead, Grovyle indicated a room for Darkrai to sleep in and a separate one for Twig. When it was Kip and her visiting, it was always one room that they stayed in together. She guessed Grovyle saw her exhaustion and decided to remedy it however he could. Bless him. Even with her distance from Darkrai, though, Twig’s nightmares persisted. She woke up countless times clutching her arm and whimpering in pain. She was a mess come morning.

Grovyle was up, being the fellow early riser that he was, and watching the sunrise in the grasses on the edge of the Future Trio’s property. Twig sat down heavily beside him and flopped onto her back in the grass.

"What happened, Twig?" Asked Grovyle.

"It's what I said. Found him while I was delving at Mount Travail. He was shocked that I knew who he was because he had amnesia, and I brought him home. He's been my roommate since then."

"You need to kick him out. At minimum."

"Why?"

"Do I need to say it? Look at you. You're worse off than I've ever seen you since we reunited, maybe even worse than when we first met. You're putting yourself in danger to be kind to this moralless, untrustworthy—"

"I'm not doing this to be kind to him. I'm doing this to make sure he stays in line. I can't risk taking my eyes off the guy and having him remember how much he enjoyed world domination, Grovyle. It's— It’s bread and circuses for the Legend who almost took over the world. Keep him distracted and complacent. That sort of thing, you know?"

Grovyle didn't look like he believed her.

"Besides, who knows. Maybe some wacky shenanigans will happen and he and I will become best friends. It happened with you and Dusknoir, didn’t it?”

He bristled. “That isn’t the same, Twig,” he said lowly. “Dusknoir changed of his own volition. It wasn’t like this, where Darkrai is a disaster waiting to happen. Besides that— you’re not well.”

“I’m doing great,” she bit out.

“Have you looked in the mirror lately?”

Twig didn’t grace that with a response.

“Twig, I’m worried. Just tell me the truth. Are you okay?”

She tossed an arm over her eyes and grumbled an indistinct answer, and didn’t react further to his nagging.

***

Hours after the rest of the household had started their days, Celebi finally rose from bed, with Darkrai following shortly. They chatted quietly in the kitchen, discussing interdimensional auras, temporal entropy, and other topics that made no sense to a non-Legend. Twig watched them for a moment before turning to Dusknoir as he read, seated on the floor of the main room, and steeled herself.

He looked up when she approached, impassive expression flickering with worry.

"I need to ask you something," she said. Then after a few nervous heartbeats quietly added, "Privately."

He set his book aside and followed her out into the forest along the property's edge. Grovyle stood up from where he was knelt in the garden as they walked out. She waved off his look of concern with a dismissive motion. I'm fine. Don't worry about it. He was, yet again, visibly unconvinced, but didn't follow after them.

Dusknoir folded his arms behind his back when Twig came to a stop, finally satisfied that no one would be in view or earshot of the conversation she was dreading having, and calmly asked her, "What is your question?"

She opened and closed her mouth several times, put up a hand or started a gesture in order to begin only to falter halfway through the motion, and finally just sagged, shoulders drooping and head bowed, with a groan. "I guess it's less of a ‘question’ sort of thing and more of a ‘me running my mouth off and you telling me if I'm crazy’ sort of thing."

"Alright." He settled onto the forest floor, and the effort to get closer to her eye level was appreciated, especially when he motioned to a branch on a nearby tree that was closer to his own. "Run your mouth off, then, so I can assess your craziness. Keep in mind that you're not going to be told you're totally sane, though. I know you enough to say a description like that would be madness in itself."

The joke fell utterly flat in the face of her anxiety. But it was nice of him to try and ease the tension, at least. She clambered up and sat down on the branch, putting her face level with his brow, and wrung her hands. She had recited everything she wanted to say so many times in her head on the way here, and now all of it seemed inadequate and pointless.

"Breathe. Then start at the beginning," Dusknoir lightly instructed, jolting her from her thoughts. "Rip the bandage off quick."

Alright. Inhale slowly, exhale slowly. Stop agonizing and start talking. “My aunt would hurt me when I was a human. Like, hit me and stuff. A lot.” She wasn't looking at his face when she said it, but she could see him go stiff and still in the corner of her vision. “It was something that she'd do because I back-talked or acted up, and if it was really bad, she'd get out a lighter and— uh— b-but I forgot about anything happening when I became a charmander. It came back a while after you— uh—” She swerved hard around what she was about to say, pivoting her choice of words. “— after Kip and I came to the Dark Future, in little bits and pieces over time. I didn't tell anybody for ages, because it's dumb and embarrassing, and I wasn't going to, but… Well, Darkrai can visit people's nightmares, right? So he figured it out. He didn't say anything, and it was…" She paused. "Okay, he did say some things, but only in ways I understood. Nobody else picked up on it. But it freaked me out, and— well— yeah.

“That was before he lost his memories. But he figured it out again after that, and it's been messing with my head, even though he hasn't talked about it since he found out. Like, he hasn't mentioned anything. Not a peep. He's not exactly who he was before the whole amnesia thing, so he might not ever say anything, but I can't stop thinking about how he might. It's not a zero percent chance. It's just so stupid, because even if his memories did come back he probably wouldn't talk, but I'm stuck thinking about what if he does, and I… yeah."

Silence.

"So. Um. How crazy am I on a scale of one to ten?" She joked, turning to the man next to her and immediately regretting her attempt at humor.

Dusknoir had his eye behind a hand, arm crossed over his stomach, effectively hiding his face as he hunched in on himself.

"… Sorry for unloading on you," she murmured. "It's dumb. I shouldn't have said anything."

"Your… When you…" He tersely muttered a prayer and lowered his hand, looking up at her. "I— Thank you for telling me. I'm honored you trusted me enough to tell me. You did the right thing in telling me—"

"You can drop the script Magnezone gave you, man. I'm not a kid."

"—And you didn't deserve any of the mistreatment you received."

Something in her bristled at that. "I did, actually. But it's in the past. Or Future, or whatever," she hissed under her breath. She crossed her arms, looking down and away. "Forget I said anything, it was messed up for me to bother you with this junk."

"What did you say?"

"To forget about—"

"Before that."

"I said I deserved it and that it's done with, so whatever." She narrowed her eyes, glancing at him from the corners of her vision. He looked disgusted. "Yeah, look, I know it'd take some messed up stuff to deserve that sort of thing, but I was messed up. It's not on her. You don't have to worry about it."

“How on earth could a child deserve to be treated so repulsively?”

“I did a lot of awful things on top of being a legendary brat most days. Don't worry about it.”

“Twig. Answer me. What could you have done to deserve… You mentioned a lighter, those devices humans used to start fires? Arceus, how could you deserve such a thing being used on you?”

Her response came out small, timid. “I hurt a lot of people.”

“We all do. That doesn't mean any of us deserve to be abused by our kin.”

“No, like— I physically hurt them. Humans lived in bunkers when I grew up, and I'm the only one left from mine. And that's because of me. It's because of me an entire bunker is dead. It's my fault that hundreds of people are dead and gone, because I was a crybaby who couldn't handle getting batted around a bit here and there.” She cast him a weary, angry glance. “I'm pretty sure killing an entire community of men, women, and children counts as something that would make me deserve that kind of thing.”

His brow furrowed. “How could you manage to—?”

“By leaving my bunker. There was a fire, and the doors locked themselves behind me. No one else could get out, and they all burned or suffocated to death. Not a pretty way to go, you can guess, so I definitely had some preemptive karma going on with my aunt.”

There was a pause. “Preemptive,” Dusknoir echoed. “Am I right when I say, then, that you suffered for years before the supposed justification for your pain took place?”

Twig didn't respond.

“How did this fire start?”

“It just did,” she said too fast for it to be the truth. Dusknoir saw through it and asked again. “Look, I don't want to talk about— ugh. My aunt started it. I blabbed about her hurting me worse than normal to one of my teachers, and she was going to be arrested because it was real bad apparently—” Dusknoir made a choked sound beside her, but she pointedly ignored it— “So she started a fire to try and use it as cover for her to get out of trouble with. Probably. I dunno. Never got to ask her. I ran when I heard she was being detained because she always said that if something like that happened… Well, I didn't want to see if she was bluffing with what she told me. I ran, I left my bunker, and because of that these big bolts that lock the exit doors activated and trapped everyone inside behind me. It's my fault they all died in there.”

Dusknoir was silent for a long time. “How old were you upon coming to the surface?" He asked with a heavily fettered anger to his words.

"That doesn't matter. What happened is what happened, and it's done."

"Humor me."

She gritted her teeth. "I was six."

He took in a sharp breath and let it out in a low hiss. "You were a child young enough to not have even lived through ten winters. You fled because you were intimidated and abused by a wretch of a woman, and the mechanisms of your home failed. You can't be expected to hold the blame for a tragedy in which so many passed in an unfortunate way—"

"You can just say I cooked them, man. It's fine. And believe me, I'm not some poor little survivor or whatever you're thinking of me as. I was the worst kid anyone ever met. People hated me.”

“And who told you that?”

Twig gritted her teeth, silent.

"Even if you were an unpleasant child— which I honestly doubt— the blame for any escalation would not have been on your shoulders whatsoever. You were a child."

That stung somewhere deep in the back of her mind. "Thanks for trying to reassure me, but you're wrong. I was awful and I deserved every lick of pain I got.”

Dusknoir glared at her. "Whether or not you deserved anything doesn't matter. No one should lay a hand on you, regardless of whatever they might think you've earned. Would you say Azurill or Marill would deserve the treatment you received, were they in your place?” Her stomach seized at just the thought, and he continued. “No. You wouldn't. Because you know, even if you deny it, that what was done to you was wrong. What you deserved was safety and care, not to be made the victim of such cruel, unfair retribution.”

"Nice speech, still wrong. Bye." She hopped down from the branch and got three steps toward the house before Dusknoir caught her by the scruff and brought her level with his narrow glare. "Dude, what gives?!" She spat, clawing at his fingers.

"What gives is you're refusing to accept your complete innocence and acknowledge the perpetrator's sole responsibility for what was done. You were an innocent bystander; a child."

"I don't count!"

"You do."

"No, I don't!"

"Why do you believe that?"

"I told you— I killed my entire bunker!"

"And did that matter?"

“Put me down, you lousy piece of—"

"Did that matter?"

She paused, claws stilling in their furious assault on the hand holding her aloft, brows furrowing as she held his unyielding, though not unkind, gaze— the question sinking in. "… What?"

"Did you really kill them?" Arceus, he sounded so tired. “Did you kill them, or did you survive them?”

Silence.

“Anyone else could have been the first to flee. Anyone else could have gone through the exit before you. And then it would be them in your place, cursing themself for having lived where others died. You didn't will the mechanisms to fail, nor did you sabotage them. All you did was have the misfortune of surviving alone.”

She slowly lowered her claws from his fingers, curling her hands in to her chest. When she finally looked away from him without any rebuttal to spit, it felt like she'd been skinned alive— like her outer layers were all peeled away until there was nothing left but a dripping, bloody wound where she once stood.

Silence.

"… Put me down," she repeated.

He did so, and settled onto the ground beside her.

There was quiet for a long moment as they sat. Twig drew her knees up to her chest, hugged them close, and hunched her shoulders in as she stared at the ground by her feet.

Dusknoir spoke in a steady tone— firm but understanding as he brought their conversation back to Twig's initial concern. "Don't blame yourself for what was done to you by your kin. Don't blame yourself for fearing the ability to tell someone yourself being removed from you. But most of all, do not blame yourself for surviving. You were spared. Others were not. You surely feel disoriented and disgusted by that fact. But there is nothing to be done about the past but to continue living."

Those last words echoed in her skull. It hit her that he was speaking from experience, and a number of things clicked into place.

(He had mentioned there being other servants of Primal Dialga. Yet by the time they had entered the Dark Future, only he and the sableye enjoyed such a rank. She'd seen scars on him that didn't fade, a hallmark of a wound dealt by a Legend.

(It wasn't the same as her upbringing. Nothing would be. But if she thought about it, “As you wish, my lord” sounded dangerously close to “I'll go get the lighter, Auntie.”)

“You were a child,” he repeated, and his words felt like antiseptic on an open wound.

A few strangled tears slipped from her, and she managed to hold back most of her pitiful, weepy noises. But when she continued to sniffle and shake, Dusknoir set a kind hand over her shoulder— or over her entire upper arm, rather, with his size— and Twig, deciding that he could be a part of the Don't lose a hand when you touch Twig club, let all the years of swallowing back the need to scream and sob finally excise themselves.

***

To say she got worried looks upon returning to the house was an understatement. She knew it must have been clear in her face that she was crying, and Dusknoir’s clawed-up hand certainly didn’t help ease any concerns. Darkrai’s subtle worry was the most unnerving, though she knew Grovyle’s blatant fretting meant she was in for a discussion she didn’t want to have. Dusknoir set a hand on his shoulder as he made to approach when she started for the guest room— murmured something about allowing her time to collect herself— and Twig didn’t linger long enough to react to Grovyle’s heart-wrenching expression of concern. She locked the door and let herself collapse onto the bed, boneless and hollowed-out from her tears.

It was as if something had been ripped out of her as she wept at Dusknoir’s side. She felt like she’d had a tangled, knotted mass extracted from deep within her ribs. It wasn’t a bad sort of feeling, but it was definitely different than the constant lump in her throat she was used to. It was strange. Certainly not unpleasant, but not exactly good either.

She didn’t sleep that night, only stared at the wall in a numb daze. It wasn’t a bad night. But it wasn’t exactly a good one, either.

Grovyle was up when she rose the next morning. She murmured a greeting and poured herself a cup of whatever was heating in a kettle on the stovetop. It was a lukewarm magost berry tea, and the lack of steeping made it distinctly unpalatable. She drank it regardless.

He watched her drink for a moment. She avoided eye contact.

“Twig,” he finally said, “you’re being reckless.”

She did not need another ‘Let’s unearth all of Twig’s shortcomings and bring them up for review’ session so soon. She took another swig of the tea and looked away from Grovyle entirely.

“What if Darkrai’s memories return? What do you do then? You’re living with him. Who’s to say that he won’t recall his past and decide to kill you in your sleep?”

“That won’t happen,” she muttered.

“How can you say that so confidently? It’s a possibility! You don’t know for certain that it won’t happen—”

“The Darkrai I knew isn’t ever coming back, Grovyle! He’s gone. So I'd better get used to it already. I don’t need you driving in the fears that things will change when they never will! Darkrai is gone, he’s dead. So I should start acting like it, and you should too!” With those last words, she rounded on him, teeth bared and the flame at the end of her tail bright in the dim room.

She had never seen Grovyle look so defeated.

“I…” She swallowed hard. Why was he staring at her like that? Why was he—

Oh.

Darkrai wasn’t the only person who had lost their memories. He wasn’t the only one who had changed beyond recognition. He wasn’t the only one who people had to relearn how to act around when they used to know him well.

“I’m sorry,” she forced out. “I didn’t mean it like— I didn’t—” She gritted her teeth for a moment longer, then stormed out with another stammered apology.

Arceus, she felt awful. And she knew Grovyle felt even worse.

Good job, idiot.

***

Twig didn’t say goodbye when she left the next morning. She’d already done enough damage— it’s not like she needed to rub into Grovyle’s face that she was too stupid to know how to fix the damage she’d done to him and what friendship had been recovered between them. Darkrai was up and about in the main room already when she got up to leave, long enough before sunrise that even Grovyle hadn't risen for the day. She didn’t tell him they were leaving. Darkrai understood without her saying so— just rose up silently and followed behind her as she locked the front door after them with the spare key she’d been gifted.

At some point on the homeward trek, Darkrai spoke. “I don’t mean to seem as though I doubt you, but I still find it necessary to clarify how exactly we knew each other before my memories were lost.”

Twig found herself picking up the pace out of an instinctual need to flee— she had to purposefully slow her strides. “I already said you were a do-gooder type, man. You traveled all around, and my exploration team partner and I traveled too. We were bound to bump into each other at some point, and we got to know you a bit whenever we did.”

A pause. “This doesn’t explain why you and your companions are all so wary of me.”

“What?”

“Surely you noticed how Grovyle and Dusknoir reacted upon witnessing my arrival? They were ready to strike me down— or at the very least give their greatest effort in doing so.”

She chewed at the inside of her cheek. “That’s just them— they’re weird and nervous about new people. I’m not scared of you, Darkrai. Trust me.”

He didn’t respond further. She could only hope that he didn’t notice the waver in her voice at her final words as they traveled through snowdrifts and frost to Verdant Village.

#the present is a gift au #pmd eos #pmd fanfic #pmd explorers #pmd fanfiction #pmd fic #pmd2 #pokemon mystery dungeon #pmd sky

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choochooboss · 10 months

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Ingo Bracket 8 match may not be going in Breakmas's favor; it seems the bosses haven't realised this little guy is their real opponent and are now busy taking care of him! They're still searching for this sneasel's Poké Ball to keep him extra safe!

This adorable looking little warden is from Team Conductors: PMD AU by @teamconductors! I would imagine warden Ingo being rather confused at the situation, being carried around by his younger self, on the other side of law..?!

Link to the original meme in the comments!

@ultimate-submas-tournament

#Breakmas in a nutshell haha #Best of luck to everyone participating!!#submas #subway boss ingo #pokemon ingo #submas ingo #warden ingo #sneasel #breakmas #team break #pokemon #ultimate submas tournament art #submas au #pmd au #pmd lost tracks of time #I must confess I have yet to read a single submas fic ;; I can't even explain why I get so nervous about the thought!#I hope no one else has this problem!!#nothing personal!!#Make sure to check the AUs out if you can!

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birdcatt · 7 months

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ok so i KNOW hero/darkrai and/or partner/darkrai is very much a road of hurt/comfort. HOWEVER i think hero/partner/darkrai has Comedic Potential

forbidden version where leaf doesn't have floppy ears below the cut

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azurityarts · 6 months

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go read PMD: Seekers of Soul by @teshamerkel right now

pmd fandom you've done it again

Seriously, this is one of the best fan-made works in the Pokemon Mystery Dungeon fandom. (A must-read if you're 2x weak to the Found Family trope too) It's so, so so so incredibly well-written, explores so many aspects of PMD, and genuinely captured the original feeling of playing the games for me. Please, check it out if you haven't!

#pokemon #pkmn #art #doodle #pokemon mystery dungeon #pmd #riolu #charmander #pmd seekers of soul #THANKS TESHA FOR REWIRING MY BRAIN #AUGHHHHHHHHHHH #THIS IS SUCH A GOOD FIC *banging table* WHY DID I NOT READ THIS SOONER #ouughudgjg. nia. tobias. ashndgdshnfksndg. your honour i love them i love them so much

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nartothelar · 1 year

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commission for @fandom-soda-writings: comic of a scene from their PMD au fic, Farther From Each Other Than Ever Before

#link to the fic in the replies #PMD au #pokemon mystery dungeon au #submas #emmet #nobori #kudari #ingo #commission #pokemon #pokemon fanart #fanart

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oneluckydragon · 4 months

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Started writing a fic back in early October and had to abandon it for a while due to IRL situations. But I've started working on it again little by little, and I am so excited to eventually share it with my mutuals and followers. I hope you guys enjoy it (I am trying my best to get it done)!

TBH my only motivation anymore is thinking about my friends having a good time reading it when it's finally posted (I love all of you very much). I cannot wait for all of these ideas to be fleshed-out on paper at last.

Over 16,000 words and I am nowhere near satisfied yet. I feel like I can write WAY more. Stay tuned!

#for anyone wondering the fic is dusknoir/grovyle centric but I PROMISE that I did not forget their girl Celebi #she loves them as well and they love her #but the entire thing takes place during Dusknoir's reconciliation w/ Team Wish #the doodle above is from a scene that I wrote!!#Echo and Dusknoir have lots of conversations #they are working on mending their relationship with each other #also dusknoir is holding his hands folded and out in front of him so Echo can clearly see them at all times #he knows that she's got some trauma with grabbing/touching when its w/ him specifically and he's trying VERY hard to accommodate her #in reality Echo could give a shit about him doing that for her but it's the thought that counts (she secretly appreciates it)#bonus that Sora also gets some resolution with Dusknoir too because lemme tell ya my girl NEEDS it #(scribz / fuji / zerger ) thinking about you guys each day fuels my desire to finish this damn thing so pls know that i love you #pmd eots #pmd2 #my art #my fic #echo/umbreon #sora/lucario #not sure how long until this is actually posted cause my life is a horrible mess atm but I am hoping not too long!!#time to disappear back into the void because job hunting is the literal worst

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zerger33 · 6 months

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Ethan stepped over to the door, suddenly getting an ominous sense of foreboding. He shouldn’t be nervous. It was fine. Just an adult he’d never seen before at his door, but plenty of people traveled through Pokemon Square. Probably just concerned parents. Yeah… that was probably it.

He realized he was stalling and quickly raised a vine, opening the door and stepping out, focusing with his Leaf as an eye. “Yo, who are yoooo… oh.”

Incredible artwork done by @hardpersonwobblercreator

Go read the story here! https://archiveofourown.org/works/51262423

Rating: Teen and up

Genre: Action

Archive warnings: Minor Violence

Pairings: None apply

#pmd #pokemon mystery dungeon #gates to infinity #pmd rescue team #my fic #fanfiction #fanfic #art stuff #writing stuff #art #pokemon art #I KNOW I'VE BEEN ON HIATUS BUT WE'RE BACK BABY! BACK AND BETTER THAN EVER!

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fujii-draws · 4 months

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Regrets

Summary: As golden orbs of light brought an end to Dusknoir’s existence; he’s confronted with a thought. One he’d long been avoiding since the day he arrived in the world of the past, and came in contact with two young, small Pokémon. The same two he’d eventually come to grow fond of, only to betray as part of his mission. As he’s forced to finally confront it in his isolation, Dusknoir finds himself coming to an epiphany. One he’d been denying for a very, very long time.

[Word count: 2130]

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‘Aimilios... Ribbons...’ The ghost type melancholically lamented to himself. ‘They… did it….’

The black, paralyzed skies had begun to shift as the morning came. Rays of light hit the ghost type’s body; although numb, even he’d felt the warmth of the sun course through him. Time was finally moving again… and all Dusknoir could do was helplessly watch as his body faded; the light bringing an end to his existence.

Dusknoir cannot describe the emotions he’s feeling. Proud…? Accomplished…? Fearful….?

Damn it all. Arceus… if only he’d realized the mistake he was making. If only he’d defied Primal Dialga and had his change of heart sooner… perhaps those two would’ve still…. The three of them could’ve been-

No.

It’s over.

He ruined it.

…Dusknoir turns his head slowly, his gaze falling on to Grovyle; the reason he decided to go against Primal Dialga’s wishes in the first place. The reason he lived; for what would perhaps be the first time in ages… Had it not been for his speech back at the icicle pillars…Dusknoir doesn’t even want to think of the calamity that would’ve ensued. He continues to stare at the slowly disappearing grass-type, almost thoughtful.

“Grovyle…”

The grass-type’s eyes meet the black specter’s pained expression.

“My M-my life… Did it shine….?��

Dusknoir wanted to hear it from Grovyle. He wouldn’t feel satisfied, or even happy hearing it from himself. The ghost’s self-hatred was deep rooted enough as it was. Especially after all of what he had done. He needed a second opinion.

“…Yes.” The lizard Pokémon smiles, softly reassuring Dusknoir in what would be his final moments. “…Extraordinarily.”

…Dusknoir, despite not believing Grovyle, chooses to do so. Offering a small smile back at his old friend. “Grovyle… Thanks to you…..”

He pauses.

“…I have no regrets.”

…Dusknoir starts to feel himself slipping away completely; his physical form fading into illuminated lights in the sky as he draws his final breath… His death is almost comforting... At least- it would’ve been, had he made peace with his unspoken feelings… towards them. Even when he’s disappearing. Even when he’s dying…

He still couldn’t tell the truth.

One regret.

He had all but one.

…And now, he’ll never see them again. Never be able to tell them how sorry he was. Never be able to tell those two how much they meant to him… what they actually meant to him.

How foolish was he…? To get attached like this…? To care so much about their futures as well as his…? ..He couldn’t even admit how much they mattered to him in his final moments… Dusknoir grunts. really is just a liar, isn’t he? And that’s all the two will remember him for. Their scornful expressions when he’d laughed at their misery during their confrontation in the future. Their looks of betrayal. Tears rolled down the eevee and riolu’s faces as they unhinged their claws and teeth at Dusknoir. To think at the time, he found their reactions simply hysterical…

——————

“YOU LIAR..!”

“W-WE TRUSTED YOU..!”

“Pray tell… who’s fault is that?” Dusknoir sneered. “Not once had I asked for your background, or your names.”

Dusknoir began to float menacingly towards Aimilios. “Last I recall, you were responsible for your own partner’s downfall.”

“I-I….”

“LEAVE HIM ALONE…!!”

——————

…Now all he feels is a sharp pain stabbing through his chest recalling that horrible memory.

If there was a heaven or hell; the latter would be awaiting him right about now.

Speaking of…

Dusknoir opens his eye, attempting to browse his uncanny surroundings. What meets the ghost-type is… emptiness?

“…What on earth..?” His eye wanders down to his body.

…He appears in what looks like a pitch-black void. Dusknoir himself would’ve blended right in with the endless abyss had it not been for the yellow outlines distinguishing the features of his silhouette-like shadow… the same exact hue of yellow lights that’d been responsible for his disappearance moments ago… it’s almost as if he’d become a ghost all over again... He’d find the circumstances slightly amusing had it not been for his current dilemma. Dusknoir stares at his golden-laced hand, before contemplating something.

‘…Perhaps..’ Dusknoir thinks to himself. ‘Perhaps… it’s better this way…’ He knows it’s selfish. He knows he’s being a coward. But… now he doesn’t have to face Ribbons and Aimilios. He doesn’t have to look at those same faces that once revered him with such adoration; now fear, in the eyes… And yet… The thought of never seeing those two again… why does the thought bring him so much unnecessary pain? They were only means to an end to begin with- so why does he even CARE?!

“…GWOOH.. GWOOOOH..!!!” The ghost-type’s head begins to throb uncontrollably; Dusknoir clutches his head; nearly identical to how he did when breaking down in the midst of Grovyle’s speech. He clutches his temple harder in a feeble attempt to satiate the pain. Why couldn’t he just stop…? He’d tried so hard to detach himself from Ribbons and Aimilios once he realized who they were... Yet like a complete and utter fool; he stayed close. So close to an eevee and riolu he was ordered to execute. Why couldn’t he just forget about those two…? It would hurt so much less. They were means to an end to begin with- so WHY?!

“B-BLAST IT..!”

He slams both of his fists on the onyx colored ground beneath him in frustration. The yellow outlines of his body begin to glow violently as he draws heavy, shallow breaths.

…Dusknoir is suddenly plagued with a memory- of those two. He… remembers the eevee and riolu smiling widely; at him no less. It was… around the time when he’d referred to them as his ‘friends’. A mere front to gain their trust. Dusknoir recounts just how overjoyed they looked… and how that happiness made something in his chest hurt for a split second. He didn’t have to give them false hope. He didn’t have to play this ruse as far as he did… and yet. There was a small, foolish part of him that genuinely enjoyed it; and an even smaller part of him that knew he’d regret it.

————————

“You mean it?!” The riolu beamed. “You’ll really help us?!”

“But of course!” Dusknoir smiled, placing a hand on his chest. “I offer you two, my full cooperation!”

Dusknoir watched as the two Pokémon whip their heads towards eachother; almost trying to confirm the other’s disbelief. They look back at him; tails wagging rapidly in unison— before Ribbons excitedly jumps onto the ghost-type. Dusknoir nearly stumbles from just how sudden it was. Despite this, he catches her with his quick reflexes.

“Thank you thank you thank you!!!” Ribbons cheered. “You have no idea how much this means to us!”

Dusknoir recollected himself; before putting a hand on each of the overjoyous Pokémon’s heads.

“I’m… glad to hear. Truly.” A lie, obviously…but even he couldn’t help but smile a little at their shared enthusiasm.

“By golly..! Huff… huff…”

All three of the Pokémon had turned their heads to the out-of-breath Bidoof. Dusknoir immediately put Ribbons and Aimilios down; a slightly embarrassed blush crossing the ghost’s face as he brushed himself off coughing, returning to his more professional, stoic-like persona.

———————————

…He didn’t have to play with their emotions. He could’ve just as easily stayed acquaintances- kept his distance- but no. He just had to enjoy spending time with them. He had to get closer to them. He had to remember their favorite foods. To enjoy laughing with them until his stomach became sore, protecting them, watching over them, loving them as if they were…

Were…

…Dusknoir can’t help but hold his hand under his eye. He… he really did care those two... As if they were his own… his own…

“….Hoh…”

His train of thought comes to a complete halt. The idea of those two? Seeing him that way? After what he had done? After the horrible things he’s said…?

“Ho..Hohohaha..! HOHOHOHA-HA-HA-HA!”

His laughter becomes more and more erratic; holding one hand under his eye as the other grips his head- his cackles echoing into the never ending void.

“HAH-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAhahaa…!“

Dusknoir’s broken laughter echoes throughout the void; until there’s nothing left but silence. Both of Dusknoir’s hands now cover his face as he crumbles to the ground. A shell of what was once the ‘Great Dusknoir’… was nothing more but the husk of a broken ghost. Too selfish and weak to do the right thing; and stand by the only two Pokémon who were willing to trust him with their lives… He wishes the endless abyss he was in would just swallow him already.

“Aimilios…Ribbons…” Dusknoir’s voice cracks; calling out for the ones he’d hurt.

…They deserved so much better than him. He didn’t deserve them. And to think in the beginning, they’d been the ones who were trying to prove themselves to be worthy of him... When it’d been the other way around this entire time. How ironic.

How absolutely ironic.

…Which reminds him-

“Ribbons…!” His head shoots up in a panic; his eye filled with worry.

She had already disappeared at this point, didn’t she..? In front of Aimilios no less..? He can’t even begin to fathom how horrible it must’ve been for both of them… at such young ages… maybe if he’d assisted them on their perilous journey to Temporal Tower…. he could’ve been there to remedy the weight of their situation… but of course instead, he used it in a pathetic attempt to beg for his life. Dumping everything onto Ribbons in a last ditch effort to save his own ghostly skin… in the small desperate hope she’d finally understand why he…

…Selfish.

So selfish.

Of course his train of thought immediately went straight back to him. He can’t think about anyone’s wellbeing except for his own. His ‘self preservation’. His ‘life’. Nevermind all of the Pokémon he was going to deny the futures of. He was at risk. So they all had to pay for it. Because of his cowardice.

This was his atonement.

He deserved this.

Dusknoir closes his eye. Maybe in his next life he’ll be a decent Pokémon. One worthy of respect. Of adoration.

Of love.

“Gah...”

Dusknoir groans. Why does it feel so cold all of a sudden..?

Wait.. cold?

He sees… ice… and feels… wind?

‘…What..?’

He slowly gets up; using his hands to suspend himself in the air. He looks around- only to see himself back.

Back on the mountain.

He stares at his hands for an indeterminate amount of time before they begin to tremble. His expression contorted into one of self-loathing and confusion.

“W-we’re still here…” His fingers curl into fists.

“I didn’t disappear…! Wh-Why?!”

Dusknoir shouts; almost disgusted by the fact he was revived- rather than questioning how it was even possible in the first place. No. He doesn’t- He shouldn’t be here. It must’ve been some kind of mistake… That’s it. There’s no other logical explanation for why he should be still here. Perhaps the higher being that brought him back into this world will immediately realize their error, and make swift work of him.

“We… we truly are still here…” Grovyle lamented, breathing a sigh of what would be an overwhelming rush relief. Celebi begins to flutter her wings happily around the grass-type.

“Wonderful!! I don’t know why we were fading and didn’t disappear…” She twirls, overjoyous now having gained all her strength back. “…But everyone is safe!! Oh my beloved..! Isn’t this just an amazing wonderful thing?!”

Grovyle chuckles heartedly. “It is.”

Unfortunately among the three; the ghost type was not experiencing the same joy as the grass type pokemon. Dusknoir had been drowning out half of their words of cheer and relief with thoughts of contempt. Self-depricational thoughts clouded the ghost-type’s mind as he kept searching for logical answers for his revival… Everyone else made sense. But why him of all Pokémon..?!

“Why..? Wh-Why me..?” Dusknoir whispered to himself dejectedly; mirroring his words from when his Sableye ‘betrayed’ him.

The only difference being how genuine it was.

Pr- Dialga had appeared to explain the whole situation to the trio. Once that had been done, Grovyle, and Celebi walked and flew individually near the edge of the mountain to feel the sun on their skins; their accomplishments finally having been paid off, soaking in the sun…

……Dusknoir, however; had stayed in the exact spot he’d been revived. His thoughts plagued him. This was not his victory. This was not for him to enjoy. What was he to do now..? Live his life as if nothing happened..? As if he didn’t hurt countless Pokémon..? Guilt had almost immediately begun to eat away at the ghost-type. He looks down at his hands one last time... Perhaps death would’ve been too good for a despicable Pokémon such as himself. The torment of being alive, and living with what he had done seemed like a fitting and ironic enough punishment… but that wasn’t what truly scared him.

Far from it, in fact.

Without a doubt in Dusknoir’s mind; Grovyle and Celebi would want to return back to the past… perhaps not this very instant; but at a given point. And when that time finally arrives…

Dusknoir stares at the Passage of Time facing him. Almost mocking him.

…He’d have to face them.

“…” Dusknoir clenches his fists tightly; his brow furrowing.

…The mere thought of confronting those two again- No no no no no. He- he should have disappeared. Death would’ve been a mercy. He can’t face them- not again. Looking at the same two children he tried to slaughter with his bare hands mere hours ago face-to-face..? Dusknoir’s fists tremble as his terror consumes him. What would they say..? Let alone think..? They’d run at the mere sight of him. He…

He doesn’t want to scare them.

He doesn’t want to hurt them.

He..

…Now he has something else to be afraid of.

#pmd eos #pmd writing tag #Another Dusknoir-centric fic I worked on!!! :D I hope you like it!!#this took me like a week on and off #also second time writing!! YIPPEE!!!#I’m still not as good but I’m still having lots of fun and learning !!#anyways. I need to see that old man on the floor writhing in agony.#/j BUT YKNOW #dadnoir

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pyromaniac-cyndaquil · 12 days

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*taps mic* hey what if the pokémon in the dark future just don't age at all, since time stopped? not suggesting that's canon but I think it'd be a really interesting angle to explore things from. potentially, any pokemon living there would be functionally immortal if food and water were easy to come by, and if it wasn't for all the other pokemon who tend to lash out and get violent (like spiritomb) due to the state of the world.

Everyone living in the future wasn't born there, nobody can even have children any more, just as nobody can grow up or evolve. Despite them all having seen the sun back before this all started, they've been in this state for so long that they've forgotten anything about what that was like, or even that they saw it at all. It's all just one big, neverchanging blur that's always been the same, forever. They've always been this age. They've only ever seen the planet paralysed. Nothing's ever been different.

I think that'd probably add quite a bit to Grovyle, hero and Celebi's decision to go back and fix things, too. Disappearing would almost definitely be better than living forever in a miserable world that never changes with no end in sight, especially if they couldn't even remember their beginnings. At least then, other people get a chance.

(it would also mean there'd definitely be versions of all of them that still exist after fixing time, not that they'd have any way of knowing that. but it'd be fine for them to exist without any harm to the world at all)

#pokemon #pmd #pmd eos #grovyle #celebi #i think it'd probably also give dusknoir a very different outlook to them for more than just cowardice #if he's a ghost type he's probably expected to live a lot longer anyway if not forever y'know? maybe he remembers more or is less bothered #but ofc very VERY bothered by the idea of disappearing #been working on drafting a pmd au fic and been thinking about the dark future a lot.#probably won't use this for it but thought it was interesting enough to share

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scribz-ag24 · 4 months

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feeling a bit art blocked with pmd rn i need more future trio ideas help

#i sketched out some fancomic for a futuretrioshipping fic #but i cant find the enrgy to draw it ughhh #pmd2 #future trio #celebi #grovyle #dusknoir #my art #pmd hero

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sincerely-sofie · 5 months

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HEY GUYS: The Present is a Gift’s first draft is now 100% DONE!

Everybody give a round of applause!

The manuscript currently sits at 59,000+ words, well over 200 pages, and will now enter a two-week-ish long rest period! After the two weeks are up (which will be on January 1st, 2024), I’ll start the process of editing the fic from start to finish as well as working on illustrating the first batch of chapters. I’ll continue posting PMD content, so this won’t change too much for any of you, but I wanted to give an update on the fic’s status!

Thanks to everyone who expressed excitement or support for this project. Without you, I couldn’t have done this! TPiaG is the first project I’ve ever finished a full manuscript for, so this is huge for me. Thank you!

#stuff by sofie #sofie checks in #the present is a gift au #pokémon mystery dungeon #pmd #pmd sky #pmd explorers #pmd eos #pmd2 #pmd au #pmd fic #pmd fanfic #pokemon mystery dungeon

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the-present-is-a-gift-au · 3 months

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Chapter 5: In Which a Nickname is Given

Over the following days, Twig swiftly learned that Darkrai was shockingly clingy. She would stand up from a spot she'd settled in and he would rise as well to follow her to her destination, and he would only leave whatever room she'd stepped into when she left it herself. With the fact that he'd politely turned down her offer to stay in the guest room, and Twig subsequently facing the options of either sleeping in a linen closet or keep sleeping in the main room where he'd set up shop, this was awful for her nerves. If she thought trying to sleep around Dusknoir the night the Future Trio returned was bad, trying to catch any winks with Darkrai in the room was infinitely worse. She kept jerking awake from nightmares, much to her bewilderment.

Didn't Darkrai lack his memories? Why would he send nightmares to torment her in the night when he had no reason to? She intended to confront him about it in the morning, but his level tone cut through the silence one evening after she bolted upright in bed, gasping for breath after a dream of being buried alive.

"Apologies," he said, monotone, clear, and deliberate. "I'm afraid I don't have much control over my… peculiarities."

She dragged a hand down her face. Yeah. Cool. Okay. She probably should have anticipated the fact that the guy who was once bent on throwing the world into eternal darkness had an aura of bad vibes that sent you spiraling into nightmares if you slept around him. It made sense in hindsight.

Speaking of hindsight, she should have thought up a cover story before now.

Darkrai clearly knew something was up with her. It took her forever to think up a false origin story for him, and her nervousness as she brainstormed all the details and tried to memorize them, keeping everything in her head and never daring to put them on paper, all made her look suspicious. She must look sketchy beyond belief as she wrung her hands and fidgeted in the corner across from Darkrai, glancing up every so often and then looking askance. But she finally had a cohesive narrative in mind, so she finally broke the news.

“We used to know each other,” Twig said over dinner one evening, “before you lost your memories.”

Darkrai looked up, but didn’t speak.

“I wasn’t sure if I should tell you, because, uh… well, it seemed like you didn’t mind not knowing? That was the sort of energy I got, at least!” She forced out a nervous chuckle. “But, um. I figured it’d kind of be a jerk move to keep it to myself, you know?”

He made no move to respond— just stared at her unblinkingly.

“You used to be a sort of traveling do-gooder. You’d go from place to place, and you’d help however you could. We crossed paths a couple of times when my exploration team was on expeditions.” She couldn’t look him in the eyes anymore. She fixed her gaze on the tabletop and continued, “What you did meant a lot for a lot of people. I know lots of folks wouldn’t be here today if it weren’t for your help.”

He didn’t react— didn’t say anything, didn’t incline his head, didn’t even flinch at the supposed reveal of his past. He just sat there and stared at her. Did he know she was lying? Did he remember his past already and had caught her in her bluff? Was he going to kill her? Was he—

“Interesting,” he said, and went back to his meal.

She blinked, surprised. She wasn’t too confident in her skills at lying, but he wasn’t calling her on her bluff, not yet… Mission accomplished? Maybe? Hopefully?

***

Twig couldn’t hide away in her home for forever, much as she wanted to when faced with the thought of explaining her sudden multi-day absence from appearing in Verdant Village. But no matter how she would have loved to spend the rest of her life rotting in secret within the walls of her home, her lack of preparation for cooking for two meant the pantry was practically empty. She needed to go to the market and get some staple ingredients so that she wasn’t just roasting apple slices— and even those would be gone eventually, so she probably should just face the music and stop putting off the inevitable grocery run.

Darkrai, of course, made to follow her out the front door.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay here?” She asked, forcing a smile that wobbled far too much to be convincing.

“I believe a bit of fresh air would do me some good,” he answered.

He didn’t comment on the way her hands twitched around the strap of the shopping bag she’d slung over her shoulder or the way her smile wobbled even more. Twig had no idea whether that was a good or bad thing.

Twig bought everything on her shopping list in record time and managed to escape the market before it was even remotely crowded. Darkrai trailed after her in eerie silence, just a few feet away at any given time, and it was messing with her head to have him so close by. Her safety net of routines was already up in flames which meant that she was floundering emotionally, and having the guy behind roughly eighty-five percent of her collective neuroses practically attached to her hip was not helping. Thankfully, she was on the final stretch of road to reach her home, and she could enjoy the greater amount of space he offered when they were in the same room. She couldn’t wait to collapse into her bed, unwanted spectator be darned. She could make the excuse that she wasn’t good with crowds or something like that. Nevermind that the market barely had a handful of other shoppers while they were there— she was too tired to think up another reason.

But of course Gardevoir and Gallade had to be out in their front yard when they passed.

“Twig!” Gardevoir called from where she knelt in her garden. She dusted herself off and swept over to the roadside to meet her. “We haven’t seen you in quite some time. Are you alright?”

“Yep! Just peachy.” Please don’t let her notice that my smile isn’t reaching my eyes. Does that mean a charmeleon is faking their smile like it does for a human? Frick, fudge, heck— “I’ve just had some stuff come up that needed some attention.”

She hummed, then glanced over her shoulder. “Oh, pardon me, who is this fellow with you?”

Darkrai began to introduce himself, and it was in that moment that Twig processed two things— first, that your average pokemon wouldn’t recognize a Legend based on sight alone. They didn’t have photographs or really any sort of mass-produced images in wide circulation, if in circulation at all, which meant they didn’t have pictures of the physical manifestations of the functions of the universe handy. All of that was to say that Gardevoir didn’t recognize Darkrai. Yet. Because her second realization was that your average pokemon would absolutely know the names of any given Legend, which meant she needed to cover her tail, and fast.

“My name is D—”

“Ark! Ark. His name is Ark.” She could feel herself vibrating out of her own skin with nerves as all eyes turned to her. “He’s staying with me for a while. And, um, I’m sorry, but I need to get to my place to put away some groceries.”

“Oh!” Gardevoir nodded. “I’m very sorry for stalling you, Twig. Glad to have met you, Ark! I hope we see each other again soon.”

“Well met,” Darkrai replied, and had to swiftly pick up the pace to return to his place in Twig’s wake as she bolted to the house.

She didn’t speak as she stuffed all the groceries into their proper places in a linen closet-turned-pantry. But it eventually occurred to her that she should. “Sorry for butting in back there. Um. I forgot to say that everyone called you Ark. It was kind of your thing to not go by your species name.”

He loomed at the end of the hallway, his shadow blocking the light from the windows of the main room. The brightest light in the hallway was the chilly glow of his eyes as he silently picked apart her every move. She felt like she was being dissected with how he took in everything she did with a clinical gaze.

He hummed quietly. A noncommittal sound that didn’t indicate his thoughts whatsoever. “Interesting.”

Twig was going to have a heart attack one of these days, she knew it.

***

Twig broke out an old journal she had only ever used for kindling on rare occasions. It wasn’t often that she pulled it from its place on her nightstand— which was really more of a small floor table than the nightstand she had as a human— but she found herself needing its services as she woke up from another nightmare. Darkrai stared out the window from his place across the room, the picture of serenity despite the nightmare Twig had to claw her way out of seconds ago. Her resolve was wavering, and she needed to bolster it up fast. She scratched out a quick pair of lines with a piece of charcoal she kept at the journal’s side— one line long and vertical, dividing the page down its center, the second line closer to the top and horizontal. She scribbled out a pair of words in English in either of the topmost boxes she’d set apart. Darkrai couldn’t read English, could he? No pokemon she’d encountered could. She was in the clear— if he ever went snooping, he wouldn’t know she was writing out a pros and cons list on why she should or shouldn’t keep watch over him.

The pros for kicking him out and going about her life were numerous. She would actually sleep through the night once in a while, she wouldn’t have to constantly police what she said for fear of awakening the memory of some motivation for starting the literal apocalypse, and she could actually get some time to herself so she could cry in peace every now and then. There were a host of other pros, but those stood out as the most appealing right then.

The cons— or rather con, singular— meanwhile, outweighed everything she could summon. Stop another apocalypse before it happens made all those delightful reasons to give Darkrai the boot shine out in just how selfish they were. No, she wouldn’t let herself buckle in this. It was just one job. One thing for her to do to save the people she loved and the world at large. She could handle that. She had to handle that.

She felt tears prick at her eyes from how overwhelming it all was.

Darkrai cast a glance her way. He seemed nearly worried.

Twig snapped the journal closed and rolled over in bed, musing on how familiar it felt to write out the letters she had studied over and over as a human, even if her hand didn’t quite hold a pencil right any longer.

***

There was a knock at the door. Twig staggered out of bed to answer it.

“Hi Twig!” Lyra said, beaming. “Mom and Dad thought that you looked kinda sad the other day, and they said that they wanted to make you something nice, so they cooked a big pot of stew for you, and I helped a whole lot! I peeled the potatoes by myself. And I didn’t miss any peel-y bits. Dad said you don’t have to peel potatoes for stew, but I still did it because I don’t like peels, so you probably don’t either.”

The girl held out a large covered pot, little arms shaking with the effort. Twig caught it when it slipped from her hands. “Ah— careful! You don’t want to drop it.” She frowned. “Did your parents send you out to bring the pot here on your own? It’s pretty heavy.”

Lyra put her fists on her hips, puffing out her chest. “No, Dad said he would bring it on his way to get some firewood, but I said I wanted to do it! Did you see how strong I was? That pot is as big as my head, but I still carried it all the way to your house, and I didn’t spill a drop!”

Twig found herself smiling despite her exhaustion as she shifted her hold on the pot, noticing points where the broth had sloshed out on its journey here. Gosh, this kid’s enthusiasm was precious. “You didn’t, did you? Nice work, Lyra.”

“Who’s that? Is he your exploration team partner?” She gave a little gasp. “Is that Kip? Oh, wow, hi! I’m a big fan!”

Twig frowned, confused, and nearly dropped the pot herself when Darkrai’s voice sounded from directly behind her. “No, I’m not a partner of hers, nor am I named Kip. Though it would be fascinating to be on an exploration team, admittedly.”

Lyra chattered excitedly about how she wanted to be an explorer when she grew up, and Twig could barely hear the familiar rambling as she realized something. Kip. Oh, gosh, if he knew about Darkrai… Ever since the battle at Dark Crater, he’d gone from being scared of Darkrai to shaking at the very mention of his name. If he knew about her new roommate and the looming threat of Darkrai’s returning memories, his heart would give out on the spot. She’d sent him a letter recently, so she had time to figure out a cover story, but Arceus, she was not looking forward to the thought of him learning of Darkrai’s return.

Kip wouldn’t be on his expedition forever. Eventually, he’d come back to Treasure Town, and he’d want to know why Twig was so jumpy. He’d already started suspecting something was amiss when her memories returned and she was back to refusing hugs or handshakes from everyone but him, but he'd never confronted her on it. She didn’t want to think about how she’d juggle keeping both Darkrai and Kip from finding out about each other. She’d rather die.

She thanked Lyra again, cutting her rambling about exploration teams short, and asked her to thank her parents for her. “And thanks for all your work peeling the potatoes, I’m sure you did amazing! I need to put this on the stove now, see you soon, okay?”

Lyra pouted. “Aw. But I’m having fun talking to Ark.”

Darkrai gave Twig a brief, appraising glance out of the corner of his eye, then turned his gaze back to Lyra. “I’m afraid there’s work to be done for me as well. It was nice to meet you, miss… ?”

“Let’s talk again later. You’re cool. Bye Twig! Bye Ark!” She turned and started down the road to her house, half skipping and half running as she hummed to herself. Twig and Darkrai both watched her go.

“I prompted her several times for her name, and she never seemed to recognize any of them,” Darkrai mused.

Twig was jolted from her swirling panic by his quiet frustration. She almost laughed at how frazzled he sounded. “Her name’s Lyra. The gardevoir and gallade that live over there are her parents.”

“I gathered as much. She’s… very familiar, isn’t she?”

“F-Familiar?” She worried that he was referring to his past, even indirectly, but then remembered his strangely dated vocabulary. “Oh. Yeah, her parents have tried to get her to be more well-mannered, but the lessons don’t stick. I’m not exactly a good example, and she kinda puts me on a pedestal, so that doesn’t help either.”

“Hm.” He followed after her as she turned back inside. “You do have a particular way of speaking, come to think of it.”

“Um. Thanks, I guess?”

“I mean no offense. Only that your speaking habits are dramaticized when compared to your neighbors.”

Twig narrowed her eyes as she spat a small flame to light the stove and start to heat the stew. “Yeah, uh… I’m not exactly from around Verdant Village.”

“From where do you hail?”

“Way off from here. I don’t even know what it’s called— if it had a name.” That wasn’t a complete lie. She didn’t know the name of the area she had grown up in beyond its numeric bunker designation. The name for the plot of land on the surface above it had never been revealed to her after her escape from the underground.

Darkrai hummed a low note. "Curious."

Twig didn't like him asking so many questions. She needed to start expanding the cover story, and fast.

#pmd2 #pmd eos #pmd sky #pmd explorers #pokemon mystery dungeon #pmd fanfic #pmd fanfiction #pmd fic #the present is a gift au

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