Faller, Noun: Someone Experiencing Interesting Times - Chapter 19

“Y’know, once we get to Mt Pyre I may see about getting buddy buddy with a Ghost Type too. A Snorunt or Froslass if I’m really lucky. I thought I could take the heat, but the lack of sea breeze is turning me into a human slug.” Neil said conversationally as he broke off a few pieces of pemmican and curry paste into a simmering pot over their modest campfire, pitching his voice into the woods for Raiko to hear. Mostly because Emeraldina and Eevee were deep in their own conversation. Speaking of, the only reason they weren’t way worse off was because Eevee knew Water Gun, so cold showers and clean water for drinking and doing laundry was easy.

Even if his fingers screamed bloody murder every time it was his turn on running things through the washboard. Neither him nor Raiko were out of shape, but they weren’t full on athletic either, it would take more than three days on the road to acclimate to the new normal and start getting better.

“It’s been very oddly hot lately, yes.” Raiko pitched back, less yelling and more simply projecting her voice, the girl not visible yet still very much within audible range, “How’s that curry coming along by the way? I’m almost done on my end!”

Neil eyed the floating bits of Berries – kinda funky name when the mouthfeel and flavor profile covered everything from tubers to fruits – and meat critically as the curry paste and pemmican started dissolving to tie the dish together. “Another thirty minutes and it should be done, forty-five at the most. That rabbit we caught had some really stringy meat.”

He’d had Esmeraldina thoroughly tenderize it and he had stabbed the damn stuff within an inch of its life with one of her cast-off metal teeth before cutting the whole affair to bite-sized pieces, but still. Wild game was wild game.

“Gotcha! I’ll come join you in about five and chat. Figure we could use some more time to get to know each other better, yeah? Maybe play a game of twenty questions?” Her response echoed through the woods, and Neil simply went back to cooking after shooting her an ‘aye’. As he did so, the conversation between Eevee and Esmeraldina began to die down, the pair of Pokemon eventually making their way over to him almost at the same time Raiko did, the latter bearing an armful of sticks and driftwood.

“Aight, hand ‘em over.” Neil said, the closeted pyromaniac adjusting the fire with practice and not a care in the world for the smoke or stray specks of burning ash as he jabbed at charred wood to expose hot coals and feeding it the odd stick to keep it going steady. 

Wordlessly, his companion did exactly that, staring into the fire with a curious look. “So! Since we might as well play twenty questions, I’ll break the ice. Why your fascination with fire?”

“Been there with me since I was a little puke, probably can blame my maternal grandma for being super religious and having candles all over the place, while my paternal grandparents had an entire villa in the mountains where we’d grill big time.” Neil replied with an easy shrug, breathing in the scent of burning wood and tinder like it was the best perfume in the world, before letting loose a calculated breath to get the coals shining nice and bright through the ash.

“Heh, fair enough. I suppose exposure to fire constantly would make one fascinated with it, especially if done at a young age.” Raiko acknowledged with an amused hum. To Neil’s side, Mawile hummed - she’d had a revelation, though he couldn’t tell what quite yet. The general jist of it was pretty obvious though, and given the amused glance she was sending skyward, he could give a guess or three as to what it was.

Arceus had a lot of spare hands with which to slip in fun surprises.

“Right, my turn now. Why, exactly, Mt Pyre? You didn’t say much beyond wanting to pay your respects and maybe get a Ghost Type.” Neil asked as he gave the pot of curry a few gentle stirs, making sure nothing stuck to the bottom. That’d be a pain to clean otherwise.

“Ah, right. You were dissociating during that particular shouting match.” Raiko hummed, a light blush dusting her cheeks, “As I’ve implied to you before, there’s a reason I’m like this,”  She gestured to her body, white hair and petite frame in all, stuck in the form of a girl at least two years younger, “It involves a Legendary. Specifically, Yveltol - or Lady Death, in more ‘conceptual’ terms. Since I’m touched by her, and to a degree by Xerneas - Lady Life, I’m making my pilgrimage there to pay my respects to the departed and to the cycle as a whole.”

A somewhat bitter smile flashed across her face at that. 

“Do you reckon you’d be able to drop by the other side to visit and carry letters, or am I gonna have to get my hands on a Dusknoir to play courier so there’s a line of communication as me ‘n my team start heading on over to the Spirit World?” He asked with a crooked grin, entirely intent to inject some levity for all he was completely serious about what he’d just said. “Get me some spectral bus fare and I can swing over to haunt someone for you on a lark~.”

She snorted, “Oh, not of that sort. It’s more that I won’t die unless I’m killed directly. Unaging. I’ve had my thoughts on it and made my peace with it.” She smiled, “I suppose it’s my turn now. How are things going with you and Mawile? Settling in well as Trainer and Pokemon?”

“So far so good. About the only nitpick so far is the lack of battles with other Trainers, but Wilds and the morning spars with you and Eevee have kept us entertained enough.” Neil grunted, rolling his shoulders languidly, “Well, that and me having to rack my brainmeats for any and all stories from my homeworld to feed this insatiable media fiend.”

A huffed chirp issued forth from Mawile at that, her vulpine friend chittering in amusement at her obviously false affronted expression.

“I suppose it would do that! Would you mind if Eevee and I sit in for some of those? Cultures are an interest of ours, and stories are such a good way to do that kind of exchange. I’d be willing to trade for them, too!” His also apparently autistic friend gushed, eyes sparkling with interest.

At this point he may have to pick up a lyre and go all in with the bardic tradition.