Part 1 / Part 2
Emmet remembers when he and Ingo first brought Elesa to explore Celestial Tower, back when they were fourteen and thought they were immortal.
“Allegedly, the bell chime will bring ghosts home”, ingo had told emmet with the pompous knowing energy of a child who read way too much brochures. “It’s culturally significant! We must ring it.”
“Hmmm,” emmet had responded suspiciously. “Brother. The bell is at the top of the tower.” The implication stands: Ingo, there are thirty flights of stairs between here and the top, and no elevator to speak of.
Don’t be a coward, Litwick had told Emmet with the blaise tone of somebody who’s going to be piggy backing off of somebody else. Go ring the bell. Tynamo, sensing a litten fight, floated towards a loitering blitzle.
Ingo turns his lilipup eyes on Elesa, who’s squinting at the carved stone faces of the front door.
“Elesa? What do you think?”
Elesa thinks. She shrugs. “We already made our way here,” she said in accented galarian. “Might as well make it the rest of the way. Ganbatte!”
Emmet sighs. “This is a mistake,” he tells the two in exhaustive patience, but lets himself be dragged into the building.
Last time the twins were here, Ingo caught litwick— but not before she managed to nab a good chunk of Emmet’s soul. It’s not terrible; he felt fatigued for a week and bounced back pretty quickly, but it was the principle of the whole situation— celestial tower’s a pain in the ass and Emmet will stand by that until the day he dies.
Like right now.
The map isn’t working. Emmet checked it once. He’s checked it twice. He’s taken out his pen and written on it, which he would usually never do but desperate times call for desperate measures. The compass he brought spins useless circles. It’s like chargestone cave up here, but worse because instead if electric pokemon it’s all ghosts.
“We’re lost, yyup yup!” He announced to the crew. “I vote we eat Ingo first.”
“I love you too,” Ingo told Emmet placidly. “But we all know between the two of us, you’re the tastier one.” Litwick gives Emmet a thumbs up. Emmet gasps in mock affront.
“Elesa, help!”
Elesa gives the two of them a wary look. It took two floors for her to realize this is not just a weird temple with strange rocks, but a full out graveyard. She’s not very happy about that development.
“Don’t drag me into this,” she tells them. “Teme wa urusaii.”
“I will take that as a compliment,” Ingo reports back.
Emmet, who’s cheerfully struggles with Galarian on a good day, simply gives her a thumbs up.
The three painstakingly crawl their way up. And up. If all else fails, Emmet told himself, at least they can orient themselves towards high ground.
“We’re like pidoves,” Ingo gasps. He has fallen behind them on the stairs, with Emmet taking the lead through sheer spite despite his legs going numb on floor twenty two. “We, hah, we are attracted by the magnet of the bell, like, like probopass-“
“I am emmet! You are not making, sense!” Emmet called back. Elesa, who’s stuck between them and looking two steps from perpetual collapse, giggles.
“No, no hear me out, Ingo wheezes. “What if the bell’s a magnetic pole? And that’s why your compass doesn’t wo, woo, hahh, work.”
Emmet stops to rest, just because Ingo is using precious breathing air to infodump. Elesa gratefully slumps against the railing. Tynamo and litwick, lazy in their still small size, have settled on a weary blitzle and look very smug doing so. (Emmet is not jealous, he tells himself. Emmet is also lying.)
“The bell’s important,” Ingo had repeated.
“Okay,” Elesa responds. “If it’s important to you, then it’s important to us.”
And Emmet finds that he agrees with Elesa. Partially because they crawled up twenty fucking three flights of stairs, but also because Ingo thinks this is important, so it is.
And here’s the thing—
— emmet doesn’t remember much after that.
The rest of that trip was a blur of exhausted groaning and burning legs, and by the time the trio managed to breach floor thirty, people’s brains have all but dribbled out their ears. Emmet remembers being disgustingly sweaty. He remembers blitzle almost tripping to death and litwick’s swearing. He remembers tynamo sticking to his neck like a damp towel. He remembers Ingo’s excited sneasel smile, and the way the sunset bounced off of Elesa’s hair.
He remembers the brassy ring of the Celestial bell. It sounded like victory.
But it was Elesa’s cackle turned scream as Ingo swiped cold hands down her neck that sounded like home.
—-
So when the conductor at thirty one, lost and disoriented in the Impossible Place, heard the sound of a familiar bell, ringing over and over and over-
-the sound of laughter-
-EMMET! Elesa cried-
-like a homing pidove, the conductor, thinks nonsensically as something in him perks up.
(Emmet had always liked winning, more than anything else, and the sound of victory calls him home.)
—
Elesa catches lightning in a bottle. Elesa, arms outstretched, finds purchase in her brother, and does not let go.
Emmet is so, so cold, Elesa thinks as the wind steals air from her lungs. (That’s okay. She’s already breathless from a terrible business called hope.)
Emmet stares back. His hands flap against Elesa’s jacket. Elesa desperately drinks in his wan face and too wide eyes and his frost bitten lips. In a tiny, meek voice, almost lost to the wind, he asks:
“Are you real?”
Elesa lets out an ugly sob. Her tears whip away in the wind as they fall. Emmet’s frightened countenance turns immediately to alarm. His shaky grasp becomes a solid grip as they spin through the air, cushioned by chandelure’s psychic.
“I think so??” Elesa warbles. She sees Emmet’s eyes dart to her mouth. He’s reading mirroring her, she realizes with giddy delight— it’s such an Emmet thing to do, to read lips, and-
“I am Emmet,” Emmet breathes. His eyes have started to water. “Yyou are Elesa- Oh dragons, Elesa!?“
Elesa reaches. Hesitates.
Emmet grabs elesa by the lapels and crushes her tight against him. Elesa holds on, and the grief and relief in her accumulates into a wet sopping mess. She’s ruining his jacket, she mourns, but its okay because he’s dripping all over hers.
She can’t hear what he’s saying into her shoulder, can’t read what he says, but everything’s okay because every part of her is chiming
You came back
You’re here
I’m not alone anymore.
Around them, the air distorts as Chandelure’s psychic wavers, flutters, and solidifies. Gravity reverses its call as they settle gently on the ground, dust billowing in all directions.
The ghost pokemon drops next to them, shaking so hard the musical clang of glass makes Elesa flinch.
You fucks, Chandelure gasps. DON’T GO LEAPING OFF BUILDINGS, I AM NOT YOUR EMERGENCY PARACHUTE.
“I’m sorry,” Elesa gasps, still giddy from the adrenaline.
AND YOU! Chandelure howls, whirling on Emmet, who’s still staring at the ghost with huge eyes. He’s gripping on to solid ground with the energy of a man who realized he could have been a splat on the ground.
YOU LEFT!
Emmet winces.
You- You left us, you left me-
Ah, ah no, Elesa thinks as golden globules of light shed from Chandelure. This is what a ghost looks like crying.
Emmet holds out his arms. Chandelure drifts into his embrace, and shakes, and shakes, and shakes.
You left me, the ghost pokemon whispers. How dare you. How could you.
“I didn’t mean to,” Emmet whispers. “I’m sorry.”
Stop doing this to me, Chandelure demands. Golden brine joins human tears, like drops of sun trapped in wet glass. Stop going where I can not follow.
And Emmet holds his tongue, because he knows he can not promise staying. Not while Ingo and Eelektross are still in Hisui.
(In the back of Emmet’s hurt and shattered mind is a spark. Synapses connect. The cold breach of the Distortion does nothing to drown out the sudden flare of hope in Emmet’s chest, so great he can not breathe, so strong he can not feel, because there’s a path. A difficult, painful path through the Space that Can Not Be, but a path all the same.)
“Elesa, Chandelure-“ Emmet’s voice breaks. He wants to tell them about Eelektross. He wants to tell them about the terrible past that is Hisui. He wants to explain how the last five months were filled with horror and wonder and fear and hope.
Hope, he thinks. So he says this:
“I know how to get Ingo home.”
NOTES:
AAAAAND THAT’S ALL FOR THIS DRABBLE. ITS OUT NOW. I CAN FINALLY GO BACK TO POSTING HAPPY SHENANIGANS! (Now you know the shape of their story.)
Thanks for reading this monster of a post!
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okay continuing my critique on 1x09 Home and how it just fell flat for me narratively, despite having a really good concept in theory, I have to talk about Missouri and her interactions with Dean. To be clear, this is NOT a knock on Missouri as a character, but about the writing choices made throughout the episode with how she speaks to Dean in juxtaposition to how she interacts with Sam.
First off, this is a Kripke episode so, all my criticism is directed at that man !!! So, throughout the whole episode they made the choice to have Missouri be harsher to Dean than Sam. There's a lot of this "teasing scolding" thing she does with him, which I probably wouldn't complain about this in any other circumstance because it's clearly supposed to function as comedic relief, but in this episode specifically it feels tonally off and misplaced. Like, they're coming back to their old house where something very traumatic happened. The episode should feel heavy for them (which, the fact that it doesn't is something I've talked abt already and my main critique). Dean is the one with actual memories of that night and that house and Missouri would know that and would know that it would be harder for him to face that house than Sam, so I really do not get Kripke's choice to write her treating Dean harsher than Sam in this ep.
Like almost every interaction w/ Dean is some kind of teasing or dismissing comment. And again, a lot of them are harmless and wouldn't even bother me IF it weren't this episode where it's clear this is supposed to be hard and traumatic for them (but Dean specifically!!) Like just starting off with the "you were a goofy looking kid" and "if you put your foot on my coffee table i'll whack you with a spoon" like…tonally these comments just feel out of place. The goofy looking kid one just doesn't make sense to me since John went to Missouri just days after the fire, and 4 yr old baby dean was not ? goofy looking ? That's the sort of comment you make when you're talking about the awkward pre-teen stage or something, imo. The foot on the coffee table comment just seems unnecessary to me and once again trying to go for that comedic relief angle but it just falls flat for me in the context of this ep.
And then this trend continues with saying Dean's not the sharpest tool in the shed (reinforcing this perception the narrative has of painting Dean as the "dumber one") Dismissing him using an EMF reader and saying it's "amateur", despite the fact that the EMF works perfectly fine and does, in fact, alert to the presence of spirits. Every time Dean asks questions or voices an objection Missouri dismisses him or explains things to Dean in a patronizing way and it's notable because she doesn't act this way with Sam at all. Then later, when the house is a mess from the poltergeist, Missouri tells Jenny the mom, not to worry about the mess because Dean will clean this all up, and snaps at him specifically to get to work.
And again, it just feels really weird and misplaced. And I'm fully directing my criticism at Kripke and asking WHY. What was the reason? It also feels like a lot of these interactions were playing into stereotypes of the "sassy" black woman which is just very :/ Like idk I'm just not sure what Krikpe's reasoning was for writing these interactions and for the clear juxtaposition in how Missouri interacts sympathetically toward Sam but dismissive toward Dean. Especially in an episode where I feel like it would have made the most sense to make Dean the POV character / central focus since he IS the one with memories and trauma of that house and that night.
I think the choice to make this the episode where they introduce Sam's psychic powers really took away from a lot of what the episode should have been about: going back home after the message of "you can never go home" and Dean swearing to himself he never would, and confronting that trauma and literally seeing their mother's ghost !! That should've been the focus IMO. Like they should've introduced Sam's visions in a different episode. Then had those visions take them to Lawrence, let the focus be on Dean, with Sam seeking help / guidance from Missouri on his visions as the side-plot. AND THEN, have Missouri continue to show up as a recurring character helping Sam with his psychic visions and also filling a Bobby-like role as someone they go to for cases / lore / information. Missouri says, "Don't you boys be strangers" at the end of the episode and then they don't see her again for over a decade !!!! Kripke, I am once again asking, WHY.
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