HankPankylol
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A Winkle in Reality: Chapter 28.
🕑 Added 2025-09-22 15:00:22 +0000 UTCAftermath of the whole 'Gyarados debacle' and some fleshing out of the Sensetional Sisters, and the Waterflower Clan in general. Never sat well with me in canon how Daisy, Violet, and Lily were, like, puddle deep.
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“Hey.”
“We’re so sorry-”
“-are you okay?”
I shouldn't have been surprised that the three oldest Waterflower sisters found me so quickly. If I truly wanted to be alone, I should probably have found a better spot than under a tree in their backyard.
The outside area behind the Gym was envy-inducing, even in my current state. While the half-dozen different-sized ponds were a common sight around Cerulean, most didn't have giant boulders lining the shore and pillars of stone rising from the waters. The rock was chipped and broken, a couple of holes peeking straight through the nearly 15 feet of solid granite, evidence of something truly strong practicing its techniques. Even as I watched, a line of Water-Types squared up with the sedimentary slabs under the direction of an older man with blond hair and a giant beard.
I couldn't hear what he said, but all the Pokémon arrayed before him reared back at the same time and let loose powerful Water Guns that sparkled in the pre-noon sun. The stone shifted and cracked under the pressure of so many attacks, pieces falling off and splashing into the water.
There were surface training grounds, as well, within the huge open plain, ringed by forest and a giant fence. Large dirt tracks were torn and muddied, the terrestrial Pokémon of Cerulean pitting their strength against each other and ruining the earth beneath their feet, grunts and yells echoing from the straining fighters.
A man-sized blue humanoid Pokémon, with a bulging circular upper body marked with a spiral pattern and what looked like white boxing gloves for hands, was locked in a sumo-style shoving match with another Water-Type. The opponent dwarfed the Poliwrath, a near eight-foot towering behemoth of lean, light blue-scaled muscle. A crocodilian head bared its teeth, red, jagged fin on its head swaying with effort. Large clawed feet dug into the soil, a powerful tail doing its best to help fight against the force, yet, despite the size disparity, the Feraligatr ended up being the one to give ground, trenches forming as it was pushed back before toppling to a roar from the younger Pokémon who'd gathered to spectate.
For all that I wasn't super impressed with the quality of Cerulean's Trainers, there was nothing wrong with their Pokémon.
Not that I was in any place to throw stones, curled up under a large birch tree on a small hill that overlooked the area. I doubted I was a particularly awe-inspiring sight myself.
“I'm fine,” I mumbled, refusing to meet any of their eyes. It wasn't… it wasn't even that I'd flipped out at seeing the Cthulhu-esque monster masquerading as a Gyarados. I'd been through some shit. The PTSD was alive and kicking. I’d kind of guessed that after my Gym battle with Brock, but I’d hoped I was wrong.
No, while that sucked and was embarrassing, it wasn't as bad as fleeing like a fucking child, or hiding like I was. My mental and physical age had started lining up a little more throughout my time in the Pokémon world, yet I'd never felt more like a seven-year-old than I did at that moment.
The sisters exchanged glances before Lily took the lead, the usual head honcho of the trio, Daisy, looking despondent and awkward.
“There's no shame in being surprised back there. Gyarados is a scary Pokémon, even among her species.”
“Yeah,” Violet chimed in, “I still remember the first time I saw her. Not my proudest moment, but I actually peed on myself.” I snorted lightly, making them perk up.
“Me too!” Lily picked up, apparently deciding that telling embarrassing stories about themselves was the best way to make it up to me. “I still have nightmares about it. Don't know what dad was thinking, sending that monster out when we were that young.”
“Did he ever think? It was a strong Pokémon, and that was enough for him.”
The conversation trailed off at that. I thought about letting the silence linger, but I'd already been a bitch, and they were trying.
“So it's not your Gyarados?”
They shook their heads, Lily still in charge. “No. She was our grandpa's, his Ace, in fact. You probably noticed the scars and battle marks. Most of those were picked up during the war. The second back fin was lost to the Clan head of the Swiftfeathers. She's an actual monster. None of us has ever used her for anything, and even when we feed her, we usually have a dozen Clan members with us.”
“Our dad was a moron, and even he learnt to leave her alone. She should only be released in the most dire of circumstances, not to scare a kid.” Violet glared a Daisy at the last words, making the orange-haired woman cringe, and finally speak up.
“... I'm so sorry, Peri. That was… that was not okay. I was in a bad mood, and I took it out on you. I'm really, really sorry. Fuck, you could've been killed!”
I felt the need to protest at that. My pride was bruised, not broken. “I'd have been fine.” Absolute lie. If that thing wanted me dead, I'd be dead.
They knew it as well. “Peri,” Daisy was being gentle, but there was no doubt about her tone, “even Lance was impressed with her. She damn near took down his own Gyarados.”
“Damn.” That was very impressive, but I believed it. I hadn't met any other Champion-level Pokémon, other than maybe Slowking, though he was his own thing, yet I struggled to think how anything got stronger than that without breaking reality.
Fucking shit, guess I had my bottom line for Legendaries as I’d wondered about earlier.
I was so fucked.
“Shame you're too scared to battle. Gyarados would've cleaned up.” I meant it as a joke, an attempt to return to our previous dynamic. I hadn't expected them to look at each other before nodding.
“You're right. We are scared.” I blinked in shock at the matter-of-fact way Daisy said it.
“Not of battling, we're just bad at that, and not very interested-” Lily continued.
“-but of strong Pokémon. Daisy's Blastoise is our strongest, and he's barely Conference level, never mind Master.” Violet finished.
I was confused. Being scared of the Gyarados was as natural as breathing, but being scared of strong Pokémon in general?
“Why?”
Another round of looking at each other, before they appeared to agree on something. Daisy started them off, regaining some confidence now that she'd apologised and I’d accepted.
“Misty likes you, and we do owe you, so I guess it's fine. Like we said, it really began with our dad.”
“Well, our grandpa, if you wanna be technical.”
“Shut up, I'm getting to that! Anyway, our grandpa was a big shot during the war-”
“-like, the Admiral in charge of the Kanto navy, big shot.”
“Yeah, real go-getter. The Leviathan of Cerulean they called him-”
“-in no small part thanks to Gyarados-”
“-and the rest of his team of terrors. Dewgong was still a young Seel when he died, and even that thing is a beast.” I raised my eyebrows at that. While not as impressive as Oak's Pokémon or the atrocious Gyarados, Dewgong was still one hell of a Pokémon.
“Long story short, Grandpa left some big shoes to fill-”
“-and our dad wanted nothing more than to step into them. Unfortunately, he learned some wrong lessons from his father. You probably noticed Gyarados is a particularly impressive Alpha-”
“-and so is Dewgong, if more average. You kinda remind us of Grandpa in that regard-”
“-with a team of overly aggressive monsters-”
“-like that Bagon of yours.”
“Wait!” I interjected. “You know about Betty?”
They looked at me like I was an idiot. “Uh, yeah? Dude, there are cameras everywhere.”
“Did you think we’d just let you do whatever you wanted without supervision?”
I had indeed thought that, but there was no way I was gonna admit it, merely waving them to continue. Thankfully, they let me have it.
“Anyway, our dad got it into his head that the key to living up to the Leviathan name was getting naturally strong and aggressive Pokémon-”
“-which, while not wrong, as such, kinda ignored the insane amount of brutal training Grandpa put his team through, as well as the amount of discipline and respect it took to control a team like that.”
They all sighed at the same time before continuing in a quieter tone.
“... truthfully, Dad wasn't a great Trainer.”
“He put too much stock in natural advantages and pure power-”
“-plus, he also just… sucked at the training part. He'd try to teach his Pokémon an advanced move, and when they didn't get it instantly, thanks to his vague and poor understanding of it, he'd blame them.”
“You have a Titan Dragon-Type and an Alpha Growlithe. How well do you think those kinda blessed Pokémon would take that? Getting yelled at and told they weren't good enough?”
I grimaced, imagining Betty’s, or even Sol's, reaction if I tried to blame them for something that lame or yelled at them without cause. Sol would probably just stop listening to me, even more than he already did. Betty…
Yeah, Betty would try to kill me and everything else in the general vicinity pretty quickly.
Seeing my expression, Lily smiled grimly. “Yeah. Wasn't great. There were a lot of incidents, a lot of injuries. Anytime he heard about a strong Water-Type causing trouble, he'd go and catch it-”
“-and then bring it back to the Gym. Back to us. It usually took less than a week before they had enough of his shit.”
They were silent for a moment.
“And then… and then we heard about an Alpha Gyarados off the coast of Vermillion, that had managed to gather a small school and was causing trouble with shipping.”
“Dad had always wanted an Alpha Gyarados. He tried with Grandpa's, but the old monster hated him even more than she hates everything else. I couldn't count the number of times she almost killed him.”
“It was one of the biggest things that bothered him, definitive proof that he wasn't the Trainer Grandpa was.”
“So, he went. Of course, there had to be someone to witness his moment of triumph, so he brought-”
I held up my hand to stop Violet mid-sentence. It was a very interesting story and gave some context not only to Misty, but the sisters as well, yet I had to stop them there.
“Stop. I appreciate you telling me this, and I'm sorry for interrupting. But I promised Misty we didn't have to talk about it. I know this is different, and she probably wouldn't blame me, but it still feels weird. So thanks, but no thanks.”
My words seemed to stun the sisters, before they glanced at each other and started giggling.
“Okay, that's actually kinda cute-”
“-yeah, that's so sweet!”
“Maybe the runt has better taste than I thought.”
I rolled my eyes as they mumbled, leaning back against my tree and taking a deep breath. It wasn't the most uplifting story, yet it helped me calm down a little more. Progress was progress.
“But yeah, we get it. Strong Pokémon are scary.”
I shook my head, deciding to reciprocate a little bit. “It's not that. Well, that Gyarados is fucking scary enough, but… I had an encounter with a different Gyarados once. It… it didn't end well.”
Lily put a hand on my shoulder, and we just sat for a moment. Eventually, I couldn't stop myself from connecting the dots, though.
“So that's why you don't wanna battle?”
“Yeah.” They shrugged.
“Also, like we said, we're just bad at it-”
“-my stomach hurts when our Pokémon gets hit. It's awful.”
“Much rather just put on our shows. Everybody enjoys themselves, nobody has to go to the PokéCenter-”
“-and we make, like, 10 times more cash.”
“Bro, we’re swimming in money. A single show garners more than a whole week of Gym battles. The economy has never been better.”
You know what, that was fair. I'd been giving them a lot of shit, but not everybody had to fight. If they and their Pokémon preferred more peaceful pursuits, then it wasn't my decision. I guess I'd just been getting caught up in the hype about the ‘Old Eight’ and Gyms and shit, pushing my expectations onto them.
There was just one last question I had.
“What about Contests? Wouldn't that be the best of both worlds?”
They groaned, Daisy throwing her head back dramatically while getting up from the grass, Violet and Lily holding out a hand each to pull me up with them.
“Lugia, we wish!” Violet was the one to complain first.
“We've tried to set it up, but the League won't have it.” Lily slumped over theatrically as we began making our way back to the Gym.
“Apparently, we ‘represent the ancient traditions of Indigo and we cannot sully it with such silliness.’” I wasn't sure whose voice Daisy was trying to imitate with the low pitch and near growl, but I got the idea.
“It's Taurosshit! Sinnoh is almost as old as Indigo, and contests are a mainstay over there!”
“Goodshow even seemed interested, but fucking Lance and Bruno had to butt in!”
“Can't believe I used to think they were hot. You know Lance is an overly arrogant, controlling womanizer?”
“Prick's as bad as his dragons. Despite what we said during our first meeting, we'd be fine if we never saw the dick again.”
“Such a waste of good looks. The intensity is kinda hot, but come on! You can't proposition three sisters for a foursome!”
“We were talking about poachers! It wasn't even related to anything!”
I soaked in the unflattering gossip about the Champion of Indigo, a little nonplussed. Nobody seemed to like Lance very much. Grant hated the guy, though he was biased, and now the sisters were talking shit. The Professor had good things to say about his strength, yet he kept quiet on the matter of politics.
Whatever, it wasn't my problem. The guy was the strongest Trainer in two regions. It made sense that he had a bit of an ego.
Also, hitting on all three at the same time?
Legend.
“So, why were you in a bad mood earlier?” I questioned as we stopped to watch the target practice. The older blonde man nodded to the sisters and glanced at me, before pushing his torn, actual fucking pirate hat further up his head as he went back to instructing.
“Oh.” Any sense of humor or overdramatization vanished like smoke in a tornado. A shame. I was starting to get an idea of why they were so popular, other than being smoking hot. “Right. That's still a thing. Lily, do you mind? I'll talk to Uncle.” Daisy didn't wait for more than a nod before striding over to the old pirate, apparently their Uncle, despite looking like he was in his 60s.
“Right, so you know that Gym Leaders, or Clan heads if you wanna be specific - but that's almost always the same thing - are in charge of their part of Kanto, right?” I nodded, making her nod back. Lots of nodding going around. “Good. Well, that means we're responsible for a lot of people, with a variety of different jobs. One of those jobs, which we care about more than most Gyms, given our shows, is breeding.”
I nodded once more. There was a sex joke there, but I was better than that.
That was a lie; I was just interested in the story and didn't want to interrupt. Plus, I was watching the pirate Uncle talk to Daisy and Violet at the same time as he was still directing the Pokémon.
“Right. So, we sponsor, like, eight different breeders. We give them Pokémon, some rare, that fall within their specialty, and pay them, in return for first pick of whatever they got. Anyway, one of those breeders, our Eevee breeder no less, was robbed last night.”
That got my full attention. A robbery in Cerulean? Of rare Pokémon?
That shit reeked of Team Rocket. Made a lot more sense than attacking the Gym for a fucking Pikachu, no matter how absurd.
Maybe I'd been too hasty, saying there wasn't a lot I could do about the fucks. A rousing round of ass kicking and light maiming was exactly the thing I needed to get back on my feet.
“Do you know who did it!?” I did my damndest to keep my excitement under wraps, but based on the look Lily sent me, it wasn't my best effort.
“Uh, no, not yet? But we'll find them. Or, Uncle will find them. He loves this stuff.”
I frowned at that. “What about the police? Have you called Jenny?”
Lily hesitated again. “... that's complicated and getting into Clan stuff. We've told Jenny, yes, but we prefer handling things like this in-house.”
I was curious, but not enough to actually ask. Not when there was something I wanted more.
“I want in.”
“Huh!?” Apparently, I shocked her with that one.
“I want in. I've got a Growlithe who can help pick up the scent. Come on, I'm going stir crazy in here!” I considered pulling out the kid act, but not only was I getting a little too old for it, but there was also no way Lily would ever forget about it.
Last resort. No need to humiliate myself needlessly.
“Absolutely not!” Though maybe it would be necessary. Lily didn't seem enthused by the idea. “We've already almost got you killed once today, there's no fucking way we're sending you out to fight criminals. Besides, didn't I say we like to keep this stuff in-house? You're not a Cerulean Trainer or a Waterflower, yet anyway, so no.”
“Come on, it's not my first time!”
“I said no!”
“Fine!” I was aware I was sounding petulant, but fuck it. I'd handled way worse than a couple of criminals, even if they were Team Rocket. I'd even have backup this time! “Guess I'll just look for them myself!”
“The hell you are!” Lily had been the most affable of the Sensational Sisters in my experience, so it was a little off-putting to hear her growl and grab me by the shoulder. “I'll tie you up in the Gym if I have to! There's no way-”
“Hold on, lass. Let the lad speak.”
A deep voice, like the speaker had smoked three packs a day since birth, cut off Lily's threat. Looking over, the target practice had apparently ended, Daisy and Violet making their way back to us with their Uncle in tow.
Standing well over six feet, wide-brimmed pirate hat casting a shadow over his familiar blue eyes, Uncle Waterflower was an intimidating figure. His magnificent beard was braided, three separate ones meeting in the middle for a super braid, while his sun-bleached hair hung loose and wild over his broad shoulders. Smoke curled up over his mustache from the large pipe hanging from his lips, the sweet scent of whatever was in it mixing with a heavy smell of brine and seaweed.
Admittedly, the whole vibe was somewhat ruined by the criminally small, blue shorts showing off his hairy legs, a thick, knotted scar covering his left calf. Garish pink flip-flops clad his feet, and a white, unbuttoned poet shirt hung open, with fucking frills on the neck and wrists, the blue symbol of Cerulean standing proudly on his right pec. Finally, two low-slung leather belts wrapped around his waist and blouse, each holding five old and beaten Pokéballs.
All in all, odd guy. Admittedly, he pulled it off, though.
“Peri,” Daisy did the honors of introducing us, “this is our Great-Uncle, Walter Waterflower. Uncle, this is Peri, one of Misty's friends. He's the one who's been using the training room the last couple of days.”
Walter Waterflower? Rough. It was only fair to reciprocate.
“It's short for Periwinkle.” I accepted the handshake he held out, hiding a winch as his calloused, thick fingers squeezed. I don't even think it was on purpose. He was just that type.
“Periwinkle, aye? That's rough. Suppose I can't talk, though, eh? Always good to meet a friend of lil’ Mist. Girl's a Gyarados in the making, scares most off.” There was a faint accent that reminded me of Orre, but nothing major.
“Life's boring without a little conflict,” I responded, getting a huff of amusement.
“Aye, I've heard that before. So ya wanna come hunt criminals with me, eh? And why should I let ya do that? Ya think a big baby dragon and some rookies’ enough to keep up with me?”
Okay, did everyone just know about Betty!? How many people were looking at those fucking cameras!?
“Like I told Lily, it ain't my first time. I'm sure we'd give an old-timer like you a run for your money.” I had to hold back because I wanted him to agree, but I wouldn't be me without some snark.
“Oh yeah? And what's a lil’ one like ya know about combat, eh?”
“Well,” I began. Might as well start with the verifiable, “I helped take down the Team Rocket guys in Mt. Moon.” Technically true.
“I know. Ya're named in the report.” Fuck. Why would he read that? It wasn't Cerulean territory!
“Uh, right.” I coughed, but thankfully, he just raised a bushy eyebrow in a ‘keep going’ sort of way. “I grew up in Orre?” It came out more as a question, but he'd thrown me off.
That got a thoughtful nod. “Better, better. Rough place, Orre. Half the pirates attacking our lanes are from Orre. Still, not that impressive. Anything else?”
I hesitated. I was sure that the Rocket Lab would be enough to convince him, and I could feed him the same story as Grant, but Walter seemed a little more… with it than the elder Pebble Clan member.
“Let me see that Feebas of yar’s.” The elder Waterflower threw out like a bone for me to grab onto. I lit up and grabbed the correct ball, certain that Siren would impress. If not, then I didn’t want to go with the fuck anyway.
Siren looked around confusedly as she materialized. Upon seeing the lake and the targets, she immediately headed towards it for some training, only for me to grab her and hold her up for Walter to inspect.
Half-lidded, disinterested eyes met mildly curious ones in the least intense staring competition to have ever happened in Indigo. They were both blinking as well, so I didn’t get the point, but maybe it was a Water-Type/Water-Trainer thing.
Finally, Walter seemed to have had enough and nodded with a little hum.
“Not terrible. Decent levitation, if nothing else.”
Damn right, not terrible. I also took it as an admission that Siren won. Nobody could beat my Princess in appearing unsure about what exactly was going on, and not really caring enough to find out.
“Let’s see what else she’s got.” Siren and I both blinked in unison, only for Walter to nod his head at the target boulders. I grinned and placed Siren on the ground while she rolled her eyes at both Walter and me, likely annoyed that we stopped her from doing it in the first place, but still turned to face the nearest pockmarked stone. She tensed, and I imagined the energy welling up within her, swirling around as she gathered it. Her cheeks bloated out, and soon she couldn’t contain it anymore, letting the Water Bullet fly through the air like a missile, a dull thud! making its way to our ears as it impacted. I clapped along with the sisters as the attack left a decent-sized hole, fragments falling into the water in the leftover mist. It was on the smaller side of average compared to the others on the large rock, but the fact that it outperformed some was very good.
It was still the training yard of a Gym and a whole-ass Clan. I didn’t know how many Waterflowers there were, and surely they had other places, but it had to count for something.
Walter did the same little nod and noise as earlier, before he put his fingers under his bristly mustache and whistled loudly. A splash from the lake made us look, just in time for a huge fish to poke its head out of the far end of the large pond. The Water-Type was mostly a deeper orange, except for a white spot around its jaw and prominent pink lips, with two small fangs poking out, and black stripes on the top of its head. In the center of its forehead rose a long cream-colored horn, above a pair of round, dark eyes. The very edge of a white, flowing, mohawk-esque fin that ran along the Water-Types back peeked out of the water.
Much like Siren, the Seaking didn’t wait for instructions. Unlike my darling, though, Seaking took only a second to spit out its attack.
I barely caught a glimpse of the big, glowing orb of water as it screamed through the air, turmoil rocking the calm lake from the shockwave. Before I could register, it had made it over 200 yards and struck the target.
BOOOOM!
The force of an explosion rippled through the air, followed by the sound of an iceberg collapsing into the water as a huge chunk of the three-story building-sized boulder was ripped off, debris raining over almost the entire field as the other Pokémon did their best to dodge them. Nearly a fourth of the rock was gone, a gaping wound torn through the side so large that I could walk through it standing up.
With another of me standing on my shoulders.
“Anything else?” What I very much believed was a Water-Type Master asked, still only seeming mildly engaged as he sucked the Seaking into one of his ancient PokéBalls and reattached it to his belt. It took me a moment to reboot my brain from my ego being deflated so hard I felt like apologizing to Ash.
Holy fuck. I got put in my place so fucking hard.
My pause was apparently long enough that he took it as confirmation that I was out of stuff to share. He shrugged his shoulders and started heading for the Gym.
Disappointment welled up within me.
Shit.
“Sure, I'll take ya. I'll keep ya safe, and it's good for a lad to see that typa shit.”
What?
“WHAT!?”
“Uncle, you can't do that!”
“He's just a kid!”
Walter waved the sisters off and turned the gesture into one that indicated I should follow him.
“Bah, ya grandpa and me were younger than him when me Pa took us out to sea for some hunting. Ain't nothing wrong with some practice. Not to worry, I'll bring him back in one piece. A little traumatized, perhaps, but that builds character!”
I was getting the feeling that Walter would get along great with Grant.
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It didn't take long for us to be out and about in Cerulean. Walter had wasted no time, heading straight out of the Gym towards the crime scene, which I didn't actually know where was, I realized. Not that it mattered when Walter knew the way like the back of his hand, maneuvering around the city with the same confidence Misty had, if not greater.
I had spent my time holed up in the Gym, so it was kind of nice to get outside, even if I could feel the adrenaline starting to pump. Patience, I told myself. There was no point getting riled up just yet.
I'd save it for the thieves. It felt weird to hope that Team Rocket had robbed some poor breeders, but I did.
As we made our way towards the outskirts of the city, the large moat coming into view, I decided to make some small talk. Walter was old; surely he had something interesting to say.
“So, uh, you're the sisters' Uncle? Or grand-uncle, or whatever?”
I saw the back of his hat and hair bow forward in a nod.
“Yep.”
I waited for him to elaborate. Nothing came.
Okay.
“So you're their grandfather's brother? The Leviathan, or whatever it was?” I knew the name was correct, but maybe poking him would get something more.
“Yep.”
Some response, same nod.
Right. Maybe something more direct.
“So you fought in the war, right? That must’ve been exciting. Did you know Grant Pebble, from Pewter?” Bringing up my association with another veteran might win some points, which I hadn't thought I needed. Presumably, he had a positive opinion of me if he brought me along, right?
Right?
“Yep.”
Okay, motherfucker, you don't want to talk, we won't. Didn't want to talk to your geriatric ass, anyway. Probably just going to rant about kids on his lawn or some shit.
So we walked in silence, at least among the two of us. The people of Cerulean were as lively as the last time I came through, bartering and chatting among the brooks and flowers, fountains and benches occupied by all manners of people hanging out.
Many noticed us as well, or Walter. Many calls of ‘Walter!’, ‘Sir!’, ‘Uncle!’, ‘Admiral’, and disturbingly also some ‘Hey Handsome!’ from women of all ages followed us out of the city, the older man nodding to each in return, yet with no response. It was a very different vibe than I'd gotten with the sisters. Maybe he just chilled out among family.
Once we'd crossed the bridges and were treading on a path of simpler stone that led up to some of the more remote houses outside the city proper, I couldn't stay quiet anymore.
“So, where are we going exactly?”
“We'll be there soon.” That was all I got back, though the man did slow down to walk beside me as we traveled through a small copse of tall trees that shielded us from sight in either direction, so he might’ve been thawing up to me.
Fuck it, I could be courteous, I decided. I'd give him another chance.
I opened my mouth to speak, maybe even offer something of my own first-
-only for a hand to grab the collar of my shirt and yank me clear off the ground while twirling me around, my back slamming into the rough, jagged bark of a particularly large tree. I looked up furiously, ready to beat some wrinkly, elderly cheeks, only to freeze with my feet dangling in the air as a deadly calm voice rang out in an insultingly even tone.
“Ya will tell me everything you know about Team Rocket.”
My eyes locked with a pair of stormy blue ones, looking at me neutrally. There was no anger there, no violence. Just a complete certainty in the words spoken.
“Ya will not lie to me. If ya do, I'll know.”
The sea didn’t need to threaten. What purpose was there in intimidation when the gaze that pinned me down held such abyssal depths? The bottom of the ocean wasn’t a burning, boiling place. It was quiet. It was cold. It was dark. Some might even call it tranquil. Serene.
Peaceful.
“Ya don't want that.”
Those people were morons.
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AN: Another chapter where not much happened plot-wise, but I couldn't resist the cliffhanger.
Walter wasn't supposed to exist, Peri was just going to be walking around when he heard about poachers in the area, but I couldn't see a good reason why the Waterflower's wouldn't do anything about it, or how Peri was going to be allowed to join, so Walter was born.
He also wasn’t supposed to know about Team Rocket, but he just kinda stole that scene and decided, ‘Nah, I’m a badass,’ and who am I to argue? That Seaking also came out of nowhere. Cerulean as a whole has been a suprising writing experience.
Thank you for reading. Hopefully you enjoyed.
