I Feel like Sombody's Watching Me [NotLT Quest][F]

[Pixel]

"I feel like we're being watched."

Freya rode on Arcanine's back, rather than on her bike, mindful of her bad leg. It was healing but she had really done a number on herself during that bike crash and subsequent falling off of Ursaluna's back. So she was doing her best to take it easy—relying on Arcanine whenever she could—which was a little difficult because was a naturally energetic person. She wanted to walk and hike and run, but her body said no. She had pushed it visiting the Ruins and then going to Dark Cave for the dark totem trial. But dangit, she wanted to get things done!

Face buried in Arcanine's rocky man, she metally thanked the dutiful hound for his help on this miserably wet evening. The poor arcanine HATED rain, but he was out here getting soaked for her health and comfort. She did her best to shelter him, draping a tarp a little awkwardly over his back and head and tying it with a rope to modify it into a makeshift rain coat. But water still leaked through or soaked exposed areas. It's not like she had boots for him to wear.

Arcanine suddenly paused, growling, his nose to the air.

"Do you feel it too?" She murmured.

<I smell a person, mama. A not nice person. Smells mad. Not like nice people we pass earlier.>

Oh, right, they were far from the only ones making this trek in less than ideal conditions. Plenty of folks were suffering the miserable weather and most were talking about vandalism being rampant in the area as of late. Maybe some high school kids were getting bored?

Freya sat up to look around.

Where was this angry person? Were they the reason why Freya felt like spinarak were crawling down her back and why Arcanine's teeth were bared?

—

Word Count; 454 | OOC:

Swapping in Gyarados and Arcanine over Floragato and Star.
QUEST START

[Caramell 🍬]

The rain was an eyesore, causing many of the travelers along the open stretch of Route Thirty-Six to spin around on their heels and high tail it back to their makeshift homes or the nearest safe structural building. It lacked the roar of thunderous clouds sparking with electric energy but carried with it a biting cold that buried past long sleeves of large overcoats to find the delicate flesh encased underneath.

Along with the biting cold of the chilly rains carried another problematic piece – lingering humidity that clamored near Ninety Percent, causing a torturous effect of soaking one’s clothes with their own sweat when they bundled up. Thus, most of the inhabitants dealt without. Instead, they carried large umbrellas held overhead or thin ponchos that they still somehow managed to sweat through, whilst feet hurried through tall grasses and over broken up gravel. “It’s the fifth time this week!”

Another girl shook her head furiously, body pressed against a taller and leaner man as though she thought they might converge into a new species altogether, in her attempt to stay mostly underneath the umbrella. Her lower legs and feet were soaked from the pouring rains where the umbrella offered no protection. “Some young hooligans keep vandalizing the area! They’re going to destroy everything that old man Bernie owns at this rate!”

The gentleman beside her kept his grip firmly on his companion, pulling her closer to his chest as their feet hurried across the ground towards safety. Shelter from the storm. “He’s even talking like he might have to sell his plantation. It’s been in the family for ten generations now!” He commented with a shake of his head, before ushering both of them into the nearby building and shutting the door behind them.

Freya would find along her trek – past the hustle and bustle of quickly moving bodies and heavy conversations – a large field where several berry trees stood in tattered ruins. Most were snapped in two as though gale-force winds swept through the area and snapped them at their base. Several of their branches were slung across the ground, berries nearly ripened smashed to bits and soaking through the rain-soddened grounds. A long network of wooden fences meant to keep would-be vagrants out was broken in several places, evident that something large or strong once stormed through without care.

An old man popped out from around the corner with a pitchfork in one hand. He raised his makeshift weapon whilst swinging it wildly through the air, nostrils flared in anger as it seethed from the very pores on his skin. “I knew yee’d be back!” He screamed, spinning the deathly weapon wildly in the air as though he were a man in a body twenty years younger than his current body. Clearly, despite his age, the miles of croplands kept him busy and in shape. “Yee ain’t getting’ ‘nother berry from me, gots’ it?! Pim, don’t let these ruffains escape!” A long, slender creature shot out past Bernie and looped around to Freya’s backside, her fur standing on ends as she hissed loudly.

Bernie thinks you're the culprit!

He's sending Lv 23 "Pim" the Furret after you! What will Freya do?

[Pixel]

Freya would have lurched backwards if she could have, but she instead clung tighter to Arcanine as the man with the pitchfork ran up, swinging it like a weapon. The gossip along the trail gave her a good idea of who this might be and why he was so upset.

“Sir, sir! Uh, Mister Bernie, right? You have the wrong person. I’m not a hooligan, and I haven’t destroyed anything. These bushes were broken when I got here.” Okay, maybe not the least suspicious thing she could have said or done, but it was the truth. “I’m not even from around here, sir. I’ve come a long way, from Paldea, to challenge the gyms. But if you’re having an issue with vandals, I could keep an eye out? Okay, OKAY, yeah, please stop swinging that or I will have to defend myself.”

Freya’s topaz eyes were hard.

“Gyarados, use waterfall. Wash the furret away so Bernie and I can have a proper talk like rational adults,” she called out, throwing a ball. The flying sea serpent roared and eagerly gathered the rainfall around him and bore down on the striped ferret, hoping to end things quickly and painlessly. “C’mon, look at me. Do I really look like the local kids who you have to chase away from your scarecrows and mailbox when they get rowdy?”

—

Word Count; 000 | OOC:

Gyarados use that rain to your advantage! Waterfall x2 if needed.

[Caramell 🍬]

The old man didn’t let up. He swung his makeshift weapon fast and hard. SWNG! ZZING! BAM! KAPOW! Freya would have to dodge of some the heavier hits, though Bernie wasn’t always the best aim on all of his hits. One thing remained true, though. That girl was bad news for his crops and had to go! “I’m onto you. Hooligans always return to the scene of their crime!” He scoffed, after his pitchfork slammed into the muddied dirt and got stuck.

Bernie kicked at the ground, yanking with both hands to free it. The wet ground made a sloppy guurrgglleee sound and small air bubbles rose up inside of the muddied waters, popping against the surface with a sickening sound. “Ya gots my pitchfork all stuck! She might even be ruined! Look’at what’cha done did to me!” Bernie complained, as cantankerous and ornery as could be. “Pim, use yer Quick Attack, girl! Don’t let these wayward criminals wash ye away!”

Gyarados was much faster though, spewing water everywhere. SWOOSH! Pim’s little paws shot in the air from the tidal wave. SQUEAK! SSQQUUUEAAAK! AAACCKKK! She screamed in high-pitched squeals, calling out for her beloved trainer. “PIM! HOLD ON! WHAT’VE THEY DONE TA YA?!” Bernies screamed, eyes widened in horror. He turned to Freya, arms folded over his chest firmly.

“And after what ye done did to poor ole Pim?! Never in a million years would I believe you! Please, just leave me be while I try to recollect me homestead.” He turned away, shuffling towards his broken and tattered crops. “If’n ya ain’t some wayward criminal come to steal me hard earned crops… then ye gun’ hav’ta proves it.” He nodded, commenting more underneath his breath than aloud. “Ya looks real funny to me? Why’s ya gots that ugly blue in ya hair, girl? Ya ain’t one them tattoo’d hooligans, are ya’s?” Bernie continued his chatter.

He'd lead her to a large area where the road forked off in three different directions. “I ain’t ‘pologizin’ fer nothin’. Far as I’m concerned, ye’s a no good, low down, dirty-dealin’ criminal. Else ye woud’n’ washed me baby away like that. But maybe… juss maybe… ye can redeem yeself. Go on and git, find that no good, good fer nothin’, shoulda been spanked when he was young, criminal fer me. And I’ll reward ya with some my best crops.” Bernie added with a gruff huff. Freya would notice something peculiar about each of the paths before her.

The left path was ladened heavy with berries from one end to the other, as though someone or something was trying to coat the ground in the stuff. The center path seemed almost barren of berries entirely, save for one or two here and there. The right path would have plenty of berries sprawled about the ground but it would look the most normal and could be considered as average 'fruit drop' from the nearby berry trees.

Bernie accepted Freya's help!
⇦ ⇧ ⇨
Left Path | Center Path | Right Path
Which path will Freya take?

---

Gyarados gained +1150 EXP to [2317/2437 EXP]!

[Pixel]

Fortunately for her, being on Arcanine's back meant that she was fairly well protected from the man's pitchfork. It would scrap and ping off the hound's rocky mane as he moved to deflect the strikes, growling at the man in warning. <Stop trying to hurt mama, or I will make you regret it!>

"Easy, arcanine, he's just, uh, very upSET!" she ducked. Wow. "Dude, you're going to accidentally kill someone like that!" Huff. Fortunately, getting his furret swept away demoralized him enough that he stopped ATTACKING. "She will be fine! She's just wet." That...didn't stop him from going on a mean rant. She straightened up. "Excuse you! My hair is naturally blue, thank you very much. You know like the very respectable CLAIR, a GYM LEADER?! Do you think Whitney and her bright pink hair make for a criminal? Sir, leave those ideas in the stone age where they belong!"

SIGH.

"But you know what? You do seem really worried about Pim and there's lots of people who I passed on this road here that seemed worried about and the ranch, so I'm going to assume that this is just a bad day for you. And I'm going to help. Because I'm nice like that. Arcanine, sniff out the real crooks, will you?"

She returned her sea serpent and the pair bounded down the left path where the berries were laid unnaturally dense upon the ground.

—

Word Count; 000 | OOC:

Investigating the left path!

[Tiki]

"Clair? Who? I'm sorry, but I must've been tired. I don't usually leave Gold'nrod City, when ya got a farm to tend to." Bernie grumbled after Freyja's rebuke, and decided to comment on Clair instead.

Entering one of the path in the orchard, the area was wafted strongly by blooming flowers and ripening fruits and berries. Some berry bushes were easily found within arms' reach, and some fruit trees were hanging just too high even for a tall human. Not long walking into this path, Freyja would find herself facing an unconscious man.

Wearing an official blue themed uniform, the law enforcement officer was on the ground, cold. There were suspicious red stains on his mouth and neck, and prominent parts of his shirt. Whoever criminal that had trespassed the old man's orchard, likely had struck this gentleman too! Freyja could choose to wake up the fallen man, or leave the man alone and then investigate the surrounding area to gather clues.

[Pixel]

Freya grumbled a bit under her breath a bit about how ignorance about the greater world made all small town folk look bad. And she was born in a tiny village in a remote, rural part of Kitakami. You could could count the number of kids in her classes before she moved to Paldea on both hands, sometimes one hand depending on the subject! Moving to Paldea had been a shock to the system—so many people, so many big buildings. Everything was big, crowded and new. Paldea had history, yes, but it wasn't historical. It was often shiny and modern and all painted and polished up. 

That Rancher reminder her of the some of the more superstitious old men in the village. The one that gave her whole family wary looks despite her being born there just because her parents were outsiders. The ones who muttered about the mountain seeking some untold retribution against her family when she vanished, swallowing up their child whole so they would go away. Ridiculous, honestly.

But was there any point in malingering over the point?

She was wet. A little cold. And Arcanine was whining unhappily as well. Freya was half-tempted to abandon this whole 'helpful' thing in favor of just continuing her quest northward—because why did she care if some grumpy rando thought she was some criminal punk who was vandalizing his property, he had no proof!? However, she stayed her ground and told herself that it wouldn't hurt to look around and if she found nothing, maybe the man would have calmed down by the time she returned. Simple.

With a long, suffering sigh, Freya slumped against Arcanine's back until the hound woofed, alerting her that he found something. 

And wow, what a something...

There, laying on the ground, was a police officer! Freya yelped and dismounted, limping a bit on her bum leg to go to the officer's side. She shook him gently, checked for a pulse and that he was breathing. He looked in rough shape. "Sir? Sir can you hear me?" Freya patted her pockets and then found her purse, opening it and fumbling for a phone to call some sort of authority!

"Hello, hello? Uh, emergency? I have found an unconscious officer. I think he's breathing okay, but he's out cold in the rain just laying in the middle of the road..." Freya kept trying to jostle him. Wait... "Pawmot! Pawmot use Revival Blessing!"

If the officer wasn't awake before now, well...

Those palms lit up like a sparking sefibrillator and...

CLEAR!

ZzzzAP!

—

Word Count; 427 | OOC:

Helping the officer!

[Caramell 🍬]

The officer stirred. Long eyelashes batted against each other as deep-sea blue hues gazed at the world around him. Groggily, he shook, a shiver crawling down his spine. He pushed himself up with his hands, one pressed to his forehead with a low moan that immediately turned to a sharp screech as soon as Pawmot shocked him ‘to life’. “I’m being attacked again. I repeated, officer being attacked! Send reinforcements!” The officer screamed into a small, handheld communications device attached to the pocket of his pressed shirt.

When he finally regained himself, he scooted a bit away from Pawmot with raised hands and a firm shake of his head. “Ma’am, call off your hamster, please! I’m alive!” He insisted, reaching a shaky hand towards his nightstick attached to his belt. If she wouldn’t call off her Pokémon, then the officer might not have any choice but to whack Pawmot several times to get it to stop. He didn’t want it to have to come to that especially since they were currently doing everything they could, to ensure that he was ok.

When the air around the two cooled down a bit, the officer would go into greater details. By now, Freya would notice the stains on his clothes were different than blood. Most were much lighter in shades and clung to places that would make little sense. Plus, there was a sweet smell about the strange stains like fruits that were once blended up into a drink of some sort, or at least something similar. “Ack! My arms and legs..” He complained with a loud sigh.

“Thank you for checking up on me miss…. I was out patrolling for the hooligans that keep terrorizing the plantations and well. Came toe-to-toe with something that knocked me clear into that large berry tree over there.” He stated, pointing to a tree whose limbs were barren of any nuts or fruit along their branches. “I tried to apprehend them so they could pay for their crimes. But their fists musta been like boulders smacking me about! Strong as you could imagine! But…I managed to get these keys off him at least…”

The officer would then pass the set of keys over to Freya to inspect. Should she look them over carefully, she would notice the words ‘Supply Shed’ written on a label attached to the keys. Perhaps Bernie would know more about the keys should she choose to take them back to him?

The officer hands Freya a set of keys!

[Pixel]

Unfortunately the call for a revival blessing came a wee bit too late. Pawmot meant her best, but those electrified paws, meant to stir a pokemon from unconsciousness back into a state to be ready for battle, touched his chest just as he roused. Poor man got the shock of his life. No wonder he started screaming for help and thought he was being attacked. Freya grabbed her pawmot and pulled her back, apologizing repeatedly and how she was worried about him and didn't know he was waking up and all that sort of well-meaning rambles.

Geeze, she couldn't win today. She was just upsetting everyone, huh? First Bernie and now this poor, cute officer. Sigh. No getting mr. blue eye's number after you assault him by accident with an electric type in the rain, huh? She was too embarrassed to even ask. Chatting him up with some flirty, fluttering looks and flips of the hair were all out of the question. Rather, they were both flustered, waterlogged rattata—him covered in berry juice and mud, and her just soaked to the bone by the rain.

When everything calmed and he didn't look ready to beat Pawmot off of him with a stick, he started talking, explaining to her how he came to be in this state. He confirmed the rancher's story about vandals and held up a key with a tag dangling from it. She took it and looked it over. Supply shed. Stolen from Bernie probably, but why? Did he keep something valuable inside? Tools could be stolen and sold for a pretty Pokedollar, but...there felt like there was more to this story.

She helped the officer stand up and get sitting on a nearby stump so he wasn't just laying in the mud. He could wait for assistance here. Freya glanced around, noting the broken bushes and the absolute state of the officer. 

"A strong vandal with fists like boulders..." Not much to go on. "I don't know who is causing all of these problems, officer, but the owner of this property asked if I could take a look around for him. And I think these belong to him. I'll make sure they get returned to Bernie, okay? You rest and wait for help. Pawmot and I will also keep looking around to see if we can find more clues." And with that, she headed out, climbing back on Arcanine's back and urging the hound back to where the paths split and then down the slightly less berry littered route.

She wasn't ready to talk to Bernie yet. He and his pitchfork could get their keys back when she was ready to give them back.

(Okay maybe she was being a little spiteful, but what he didn't know couldn't hurt either of them, yeah? And besides, he needed to cool off.)

—

Word Count; 474 | OOC:

Going down the right path now!

(Bernie the angry rancher man that thinks she
is a good for nothing hooligan can wait. xD)

[Caramell 🍬]

The right path was not as berry laden as the left path, this was true. It was considerably heavy with berries in some spots, and sparse in others, remaining a firm middle ground between the other two paths on the opposite side of it. Most of the berries were smooshed into the tall grasses and sandy grounds, creating a strange trail of deep reds and moody purples the further Freya trekked along. Several of the surrounding trees stood like looming victims, their branches broken and scarred with pieces of their limbs scattered around their roots on the ground.

Eventually, she would stumble upon a horrific scene not unlike the previous scene she faced with the unconscious officer. The first thing Freya might notice was a seemingly discarded axe by proxy of stepping on the broken tool, whose blade was cut clean off its handle with both pieces scattered in opposite directions. Though, should she search a bit further, she’d find its obvious owner. A burly older gentleman with balding hair whose hairline clung to the sides of his head laid sprawled out on the ground, his thick mountainous clothes tattered and torn in many places.

He was not alone, unlike the officer that Freya stumbled upon. A large golden pangolin with thick, rigid dark brown armored plating on its back laid sprawled out on the ground near him. It was barely alive, its labored breathing just giving itself away as it struggled in vain to move. Its long claws dug pathetically at the earth nearby. And should Freya or a team member move close, the large Sandslash would his loud, thick globs of spit sputtering from its lips as it warned her to stay away. It may have failed its master once, but it would not let that happen again by allowing Freya or her Pokemon to bring harm upon the unconscious – if not totally dead – hiker.

Freya found another body!
[Interact] with the Hiker? Or [Investigate] the area near him?

[Pixel]

"Okay, are we sure yet that Mister Angry Rancher Bernie isn't some sort of sleep walking sociopath? Because there are a LOT of bodies laying on his property he failed to mention," Freya muttered when she saw the SECOND body beaten to a bloody pulp on the muddy ground. The broken axe was a bit...disconcerting too. It was hard to break an axe. It was like he tried to chop a rock instead of one of the many bushes on the property. "Then again...unless Bernie is secretly The Man of Steel in his off hours, I don't think he'd be much of a match for a man with a weapon like this."

She slid off Arcanine's back and hesitantly approached the sandslash and the completely still man. The sandslash hissed at her—obviously—and she ended up not getting too close, instead crouching. She offered soft, soothing noises to the sandslash and rolled towards it one of the oran berries she saw lying uncrushed on the ground. "Hey there, friend, I'm here to help. Your trainer looks real hurt and so do you. If you'd let me check on him, I might be able to make him a little better..."

Freya would then edge to the side of the hiker opposite of the angry sandslash and gently shake him, checking for breathing and a heartbeat. "Sir. Sir, can you hear me? Can you tell me what happened to you?" Freya did have Pawmot on standby, but she didn't want to have a repeat of the pretty blue-eyed officer again and accidentally shock the man while he was waking up. If he roused, she would help him sit up...if he didn't...well, she did have revival blessing on stand by. Pawmot could be ready with sparking paws in an instant.

"Bernie...what are you mixed up in?" she murmured to herself as she thought over everything she knew so far. Two badly injured men, a badly beaten sandshrew, a bunch of broken berry bushes and a shattered axe. The vandal hit with fists of steel and somehow jumped an officer. But why did they do this? If they wanted to hurt Bernie, why go after random people on his property? Were they trying to frame him? Or was it something else entirely?

Her thoughts raced as the rain finally started to peter out around them, the air still thick with a heavy mist that left the skin clammy and damp. Not that it mattered. She wouldn't be dry for hours after traveling in that downpour earlier.

—

Word Count; 423 | OOC:

Waking him up. Carefully.

[Caramell 🍬]

The large shrew eagerly gobbled down the berry, refueling its energy to allow it to sit up. It threw its long, blade-like claws over its trainer and narrowed its eyes angrily at Freya. A loud hiss escaped its lungs. Bad thing brought strange people. Strange people, bad people? No chance. Bad people no hurt good trainer. “Leave us alone!” Sandslash hissed loudly, pressing herself to the hiker’s body as protectively as she could. “We’ve suffered enough!” But as Freya insisted that she was only there to help, Sandslash loosened up and slowly peeled itself off, only watching Freya’s interaction with its trainer warily.

The hiker stirred, his hands clashing in the air against each other. They were pressed into tight fists that would have easily knocked into Freya’s face if she lingered too closely, in an attempt to clean her head off her body. “Huh?! What?! Who’s there?! Stay away!” He yelled so loudly that his voice cracked from the effort. Clearly a bit disoriented and definitely groggy, it took a lot for the hiker to manage to sit up and calm himself down. As he did so, a hand pressed to his face, his rich earthen-hued eyes scanned the area warily. “Man, that was one powerful punch!” He groaned underneath his voice, shaking his head profusely.

Time was the biggest factor. While Freya worked against the clock, the hiker leaned on it and rested temporarily. Only when pressed for more, would he slowly open up, hands reflexively searching…searching…searching… They fumbled through the tangle of wild grass, never quite finding whatever it was they expected to find. “Oh…uh… I was out mindin’ me business when the rains poured down. Real heavy like. Them trees were rattlin’ in the storm, one worse than all the others. I thought the tree might fly straight out its roots, I tell ya, the way its branches were swingin’ and carryin’ on and such…”

Those same deep brown hues turned and studied the ground profusely. Attention snapped in an instance, lost from the story to the moment around himself. “My axe…where’s my axe…” Once he located it, broken clean into two pieces, the hiker picked it up and sighed, depression taking over his form. “Oh yeah… well, I did reach for you ole’ girl…” He grumbled underneath his voice, slowly placing her down with a firm shake of her head. “I know a guy who can fix ya ‘right up. But we gotta make it back to Azalea first…” His attention shifted once more, to Freya as though a light bulb clicked, reminding him of the story he was sharing.

“Anyways, miss! I was gunna chop it down before it became a liability. And well, I guess I musta grabbed my flask by accident. Water went flyin’ up and you wouldn’t believe me but… something BANGED me clear out! That’s the last thing I remember before waking up to you. You tell your lucky husband he’s got one heck of a gal, ok? Not many people would stop and care about a random hiker in the woods anymore, I’m afraid.” He hummed, rubbing his arms and legs where large welts and bruises had formed. “It’s that tree right…where’d it go now?” Was the hiker confused on what tree nearly came out of the ground – roots and all – in the storm?

What does Freya make of the story?

The hiker shares all he knows while he recovers himself with his Sandslash.

[Pixel]

Freya did listen to his story attentively, frowning as more details came to light, still falling in line with what she heard from Officer Pretty Eyes. She flushed a bit when the hiker mentioned a husband, but she didn't correct him, just nodding along in agreement. Poor guy was confused and barely able to keep on a single thought for very long, no need to throw in a discussion about her relationship status.

The gears in her head turned as she looked up at the clearing sky. She thought about how both of these men were attacked while it was raining by someone that punched as hard as rocks. Honestly, didn't crime doers like nicer weather? Who randomly jumped cops and hikers in the rain? And why would they freak when splashed with water in the rain or go out of their way to break the hiker's ax when he was down and out? 

Seriously, they could have hurt the hiker way worse if they'd just, yknow...used the axe instead of the hands. 

Then something stirred to mind.

There was a wooded area of Paldea that travelers were warned to be wary when gathering firewood or making camp. That not all of the trees were real and trying to collect branches or even chop down smaller limbps for a campfire might initiate an unexpected battle. But...could it really be that simple? The false-tree pokemon were common enough in that area but as far as she was aware, they weren't exactly plentiful here. Downright rare. Maybe not even native, or if they were, not thriving by the forest full.

"Thank you for your help, sir," she said. "I've got to go. The police and emergency should be on their way to this area soon, you're not the only victim. Try not to move around too much until the paramedics arrive, okay?" She had to go talk to...Bernie.

SIGH.

She climbed back on Arcanine's back and returned to where she last saw the man. "Hey, Mister Angry Rancher Man~ I think I might have an idea about your real vandal. But I don't believe they'll show themselves since the rain stopped. You have to have a sprinkler system for these berry bushes of yours, right? Can you turn those on? I'll even have my gyrados throw even more water around."

Freya tossed the keys to him, "Just so you know, while looking around, I discovered that 'hooligan' had attacked a police officer and some poor hiker. The officer gave me these. I bet they belong to you, right?" She didn't ask what for. She was trying not to engage with him more than required. "Anyway, I'm heading down the middle path now. I'm going to try to 'make it rain'. You could help me if you'd like to find the ACTUAL criminal rather than yell at me more." 

Yeah, she was in a mood. But he started it.

Then off she went down the middle path.

"Okay gyarados, make it rain! Use waterfall, but try not to destroy any of those bushes, okay? Not unless one of them like...leaps out at you or something..." She released the sea serpent to try to flush out this water-phobic culprit.

—

Word Count; 423 | OOC:

Back to Bernie...then the middle path.

(And if allowed (and if Bernie goes along with Freya's suggestion), two waterfalls on sudowoodo.

Otherwise, MAKIN' IT RAIN.)

[Caramell 🍬]

Bernie glared at Freya as soon as she stepped out of the forest. What was this hooligan doing back so soon? And without the culprit in hand? He immediately bent over and snatched his pitchfork back up into his wrinkled, feeble hands. The moon’s light illuminated the many wrinkles on his body and though he managed to swing his tools with such ease due to years of hard, manual work, it was clear that his current way of living was starting to take its toll on his form. “Back to fess up to yer crime already?! Let’s go ahead and call the cop- say what, lil missy?!”

Freya’s announcement that she already found a couple of hurt people on his plantation caused Bernie to stumble back in disbelief. His heart raced inside of his chest, nearly causing the old man to collapse. Immediately, he pointed to a small bag on the ground. “Please…my bag… I need my medicine in my bag… Lord, Bertha, don’t let this be a heart attack!” He screamed in agony. Then seemingly…all was well. An act? Couldn’t have been. Maybe just being dramatic, though… Either way, he climbed back onto his feet after several minutes (and after taking a few pills, if Freya helped him) and dusted himself off.

“Sorry…that news you gave me it… gave me the jitters. Explains why the cop I called earlier was no use to me. Well then… maybe I do owe you a tiny apology. About this big.” He held two fingers up, barely parted away from each other. “Let’s hear ya plan…” Freya’s plans sounded ingenious, and as she handed over his keys Bernie’s eyes nearly jumped out of his head. The keys to his shed! He nearly trashed the entire inside of his house looking for them earlier! How did the officer manage to get them? “Oh, you’re a life saver, you are. I thought I was gun’ hafta call a locks smith. Lesse. Lesse ‘ere. I can help, sure!”

He set up all his sprinklers for her and cranked them up, causing rain to spew along the open route for her. What should have happened next simply did not. Sudowoodo would have lunged out after Freya and Gyarados, but her large water snake was too strong and too fast. It blasted the fake tree deep into the darkest recesses of the wilderness. However, even Bernie would hear the thump, thump, thumping all the way through the forest. Sudowoodo hit probably every root, tree, stem, and rock along the way. Whatever remained of it, I definitely wouldn’t want to know!

---

Gyarados washed Sudowoodo away!

Unfortunately since she KO'd it, she can't capture it...


Gyarados gained +1200 EXP to [3517/2437 EXP]!
Gyarados gained +1 level to [Lv 29]!

Psst... Now all Freya has to do it talk to Bernie for her prize.

[Pixel]

Freya wasn't heartless, she would help Bernie with his medicine before she left on her tree hunt. But she wasn't exactly super friendly either. Not when she was in A MOOD. He was such a rude man! Worn down by work and time or not, he was still grumpy and rude and just not pleasant to be around. And life was too short and she was in too much pain herself to hang around people who gave her the ick. So down the path she went, urging arcanine along as Gyrados surged ahead of her.

She looked up as the sprinklers turned on. Looks like old man Bernie decided to listen. Freya squinted through the spray, searching for movement. There was a chance she was wrong but she was banking on being right. C'mon. Show yourself you walking tree...

Suddenly, something did leap out. It might have even tried to leap out to attack Freya to make her stop bringing the water down upon them all, but Gyrados was already out in full force. He smashed into the false tree as it broke its cover and sent it fleeing right off the property. Ha! Take that you big bully!

Hmph. 

She crossed her arms and watched just to make sure it didn't wander back, then she returned her pokemon and traced her path back to Bernie. Reluctantly, she would dismount to approach him face-to-face. She was limping, her bad leg still smarting and needing time to heal, but her chin was lifted high with pride.

"I found your vandal and drove it off your property. Though you might need to start arming yourself with a hose or a water pokemon while you're out harvesting berries just in case. It was a sudowoodo, a rock-type not commonly found in these parts...But it settled here on your berry farm for some reason and was lashing out at everyone because of the rain. Back home they're pretty common in a certain wooded area and they tend to be pretty skittish, but can become aggressive if you accidentally grab them or get them wet. Nothing worse than seeking shelter from the rain under some trees and that tree trying to break your head open like a pumpkin."

She crossed her arms and let out a resigned sigh, "Anyway, that's that. As you can see, I'm not some berry bush smashing hooligan who assaults the police for fun. I'm just a normal trainer. So maybe take your chill pills BEFORE you start yelling, hm?" 

—

Word Count; 419 | OOC:

Back to Bernie one last time!

(Adrian can catch that silly fake tree.
Not playing to sudowoodo catch lotto multiple times. xD )