Archive of Our Own ^beta

A particular radiance dusted the streets of Lumiose, golden in the early evening; pooling onto the cobbled streets and shimmering off the glabrous gloss of delicately trimmed hedges, running down the trunks of wizened and so stately trees to light their canopies ablaze. Springtime warmth filled the air, gentle with the breeze that fluttered through the park in ever twirling, twisting and dancing with the leaves set aflutter and the carried-on laughter of the passersby. Far above, the sky stretched forever azure, bespeckled with scatterings of happy clouds all bundled up as they raced each other across the heaven’s vault.

Past the crowds, tucked away in a quiet, somewhat out of the way nook of the park— where two dirt-trodden paths came together in confluence and looped around a shade-dappled glade— was an incongruous, almost anachronistic sight. A small pavilion— the sort of tent rented out for weddings, or put up cheap for all sorts of events, somewhat battered— stood beneath the shade of an enormous oak. It was a little dirty, its age well showing— streaks of rain-water grime meandered down its once bright, now faded red plastic covering, a few leaves caught up drifting here and there across a puddle of stagnant water atop it. Clearly, it had seen better days— but the people there couldn’t care less. It was theirs, and they loved it.

Emblazoned on its front, in jarringly bright yellow lettering that might have been fashionable thirty years back, were three words in bold-print, all capital font: ‘LUMIOSE ORNITHOLOGY CLUB.’ Below, written on an equally-tattered post-up sign, leaning precariously against one of the pavilion’s supports, were the words: ‘ Sat. Sun. Evr. D. 1PM-6PM —’ and scrawled beneath that, in permanent marker, ‘unless Genna says otherwise :) Find us at @KalosBirdLovers ’

A table had been set up— newer by far than the others, and far better cared for— around which a few trainers milled. An old woman, white-hair cascading down her back, leaned back in a chair, watching with a faint smile proceedings as her wrinkled hands absentmindedly fidgeted with a bracelet and stroked a pidgeot’s plume just right. Off to the side— hovering over the table— two middle aged men were in the midst of a heated argument, gesturing wildly as they pointed at a pile of photos halfheartedly scattered in front of them. A third woman— clearly their contemporary, only laughed whenever the argument spilled over to her. Two kids and a ducklett tussled in the grass at the clearing’s center, watched attentively by a sharp-eyed swanna.

The sound of crunching leaves alerted the pavillion’s residents to the sound of a new arrival, startling for a moment the two out of their argument and piquing the woman’s interest. Neither the pidgeot nor her trainer glanced up as a young man— in his early twenties, a camera hanging off his chest on a worn but well-cared for strap and his entire get-up so slightly disheveled, stumbled out of the forest. “I hope I wasn’t late!”

One of the two men— the taller one— snorted. “You’re definitely late. It’s 2PM, kiddo.”

“ Drat!”

“Language.”

The young man turned to glare at the person who’d chided him— only to let his glare fade as soon as he realized it was the eldest of them who’d spoken. Instead, he merely smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, Genna.” Then, hurriedly, he stepped up to the table, staring over the photos. “I assume you’ve already gotten into your argument?”
Both men spluttered. “We don’t have an—”

“We’re not—”

The woman rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, we’ve all heard it before. Step aside and let Jean-Luc get a look at a true master’s work.”

The young man’s eyebrows rose as he leaned over the table, inspecting the photos. “ You took these? That’s impressive— they’re beautiful.”

The shorter man rolled his eyes. “No, obviously she didn’t take these. You think that Grace took a trip all the way to the deep wilds since we met last week? Get real.”

Grace rolled her eyes. “Lay off him, Francois. I’ve got my kid to take care of— not to mention my racing career! Those were the good old days, back when I could just up and run off wherever I wanted on a whim…” she sighed contentedly. “No, though, these are Luke’s photos.”

“The Lucario stan on the group chat?”

The shorter of the two men cackled, all but doubling over as he wheezed with laughter. “Oh, goodness, yeah. That guy, kid. Don’t call him that, though, I don’t think he’ll take it well.”

“No, do . Luke’ll get a laugh out of it—”

“No—”

Resting a hand on her shoulder, Grace guided Jean-Luc away from the table, leaving Francois and Antoine to their argument about whether or not a person they’d never even actually met in person would react to being called a ‘lucario stan.’ Genna gave them a short glance, but nothing more as they moved to a more secluded part of the meadow. “They can be a bit much, sometimes, huh?”

Jean-Luc shrugged. “When they’re not arguing, they really know what they’re doing. Remember their fletchinder photos?”

“Hah! Who doesn’t, rookie? They took those photos ten years ago and won’t let any of us forget it— won the Lumiose Regionals and the Kalos Birdwatching Annual with those! They even managed to place in the Kalos Poke-Photography General that year.” She chuckled. “It was the only time they managed to place higher than Luke, you know?”

Jean-Luc glanced up, surprised. “Luke places? I didn’t know he competed. I thought none of you’ve ever met him?”

“Why did you think he sends us the photos? We enter for him.”

“That’s… allowed?”
“No, but who’s going to tell us off? The birdwatching cops?” Grace laughed, a bright sort of laugh, tinkling with the falling sunlight, and for that Jean-Luc couldn’t help but smile himself. “Nah, we send him the prize money through the post, and he sends us his photos. We’re all friends here, even if we’ve never met.”

“How did you meet, anyways?”

“Hel—” she froze, gulping, glancing over to meet pidegot’s gaze for a second before turning back— “ heck if I know—”

“Language!”

“For—” she bit her lip, then giggled again. “Yeah. I don’t know. I think— and don’t get me wrong, this was way back when. If you think the PC system is old news, then imagine a time back before there was widespread internet! So, anyways, back in my mom’s day, while I was just a kid, she struck up a correspondence with an anonymous fan of her photography. She never used to accept any fan mail— but he mailed some pictures and a request for her to enter them for him, and the rest is history.”

“Huh. Wouldn’t that make him, like… sixty?”

“Nah, I think he’s my age, give or take.”

“Which is?”

Grace hit him over the head, lightly. “Don’t you know not to ask a woman her age?” That got her a petulant glare. “Forty or so? I dunno, it’s hard to keep track of it, and— like I said, I’ve never met him. Never even seen him.”

“Not even over video?”
Grace shrugged. “He’s just mysterious like that. I tried to meet up with him when I went on my journey with Ryhorn, back before I got into racing, but the man’s elusive like nothing else.”

“She went way too far!” Antoine called out to them from the tent, momentarily taking a pause from his argument to rib his friend. “Remember when Genna had to pick you up from the police outpost because you’d broken into some poor trainer’s house?”

Grace blushed furiously. “We don’t talk about the incident!”

“You had to do community service!”

“We don’t talk about the incident! ” For a second, everyone paused— then broke into laughter at the shared memories, old memories… even Jean-Luc, new as he was, couldn’t help but let out a light chuckle in the moment’s warmth. “Well…” Grace shrugged, the sunlight slipping off her shoulders and cascading down her hair, lighting it up flaxen gold, to radiant— “that’s pretty much the story. You can try asking him more on the group chat, but be prepared to be disappointed.”

“I guess that means he won’t meet up with me when I go on my journey?”

“Good look if you’re aiming for that, rookie.” She smiled softly— genuinely, though. “You’ll need it.”

………

[Lumiose Ornithology Club Group Chat]

GennaGets: I’ve posted the photos for you, darling. They’re wonderful as always.

GracerRacer: That fletchinder was incredible — that’s going to win the regionals, I’m certain. Maybe even the nationals.

FrancoiSwagger: The nationals? Dude, think bigger— that photo’s going all the way to the top. How’d you manage to get an image of it diving down a cliffside, with that view, with that amount of fidelity? I know you use analog cameras!

PhotoLucario: A lot of effort, some berries, careful negotiation, and like a month and a bit waiting for the right weather conditions. I mapped out the area and found this stunning section of the cliffs where these really strong updrafts can— if a bird flies just right— make it look like they’re diving even though they’re actually staying still.

Antoine: Oh! So that’s how you got the lighting to come out so well! I’ve gotta try that one myself.

PhotoLucario: Good luck. It’s a lot easier on the coasts— we get some consistent winds there, so it’s not too hard to get an absolutely stunning photo or two if you time it right.

Antoine: I’m just raring to go.

GennaGets: Boy, you’ve got kids to look after. If your swanna comes complaining to me that you ditched to take more photos, I’m not going to save you from your wife.

Antoine: Oh, yeah…

Jean-Luc: I could go?

Antoine: And steal my thunder!? Never!

GracerRacer: Hate to break it to you, but you’re already stealing Luke’s thunder. He did it first.

Antoine: Oh, right…

JeanLucPicture: I’ve been meaning to start a journey recently… might be fun, honestly. Travel around a bit, take some photos, maybe win a bit of prize money and get my name out there…

FrancoiSwagger: You’re not gonna get your name out there, kid. Not as a birdwatcher. Trust me on that.

JeanLucPicture: But what if I win some awesome prizes?! Surely then…

PhotoLucario: He’s right, yk. I’ve placed in worlds before— Poke-Photography Worlds, not Birdwatching Worlds— and I’m barely even mentioned on the forums.

FrancoiSwagger: Okay maybe not that little fame. You’re just way too mysterious, Luke— if you actually attended a conference or went to get any of your prizes in person then I bet you’d be all over the news.

PhotoLucario: Sorry.

GennaGets: Don’t lay onto the young man, Francois. He doesn’t like going out in public, and it’s not nice to pressure you.

JeanLucPicture: Have you ever gone out anywhere?

GennaGets: You too, Jean-Luc.

PhotoLucario: Don’t worry about it. It doesn’t bother me that much. If I wasn’t angry when Grace got arrested trying to track me down, then I won’t be angry over a few insensitive questions.

JeanLucPicture: Well?

PhotoLucario: Doesn’t mean I have to answer :3

………

Some time passed. The club continued to meet as they always did, pouring over photos new and old and bantering, the kids continuing to play cheerily, the sounds of spring slowly fading to summer. Antoine took his whole family on a trip to the coast, nabbing some beautiful pictures of pokemon in flight— and some rather inspired ones of birds beneath an old, dilapidated pier, too. None of them were quite as good as Luke’s. The rest continued their lives as normal, Jean-Luc supposed. More or less; he didn’t really know them well enough. It felt at times he was butting into a group so utterly beyond him, both in experience and the depth of their relationship .

At other times, their help was invaluable. Genna gave him some tips on how to navigate the strange mire of public photography grants, and how to get some good contracts for hobbyist city photography. Antoine and Francois argued as much as they helped, but when they did help, Jean-Luc couldn’t help but admit that they knew their stuff. 

Grace… she was less a photographer than him, really— she’d known that from the start— but she knew her pokemon . She even invited him to come to her races, which— he’d never really loved the sport, but she was admittedly skilled at it. He took a few photos of her neck and neck for third place, a look of utter concentration on her face, and gave them to her. Well, her daughter, really— Serena loved them so much that he had to print out copies after she’d bent the first pair from showing them off to all her school friends.

“Hey!” He glanced up as Francois strode back in, a wide half-grin, half smirk writ large across his face. “Look what I found while I was out getting a snack!” He tossed something onto the table, the slap of a magazine landing cutting through the park’s ambiance.

“Huh. Would you look at that. I mean, I kinda expected as much from them, but what wou;d it take for them to have at least a little integrity when it comes to this sort of thing?”

“Oh?” Genna slowly stood, hobbling over to the table— whereupon she scowled. That’s how Jean-Luc knew it was bad— Genna never scowled. “Bastards, the lot of them.” She sighed, then, suddenly so tired in a way that she so rarely was. “Jean-Luc. Come over here.” Of course, he obeyed without question. “Look here— this is another thing you’re going to have to face as a career photographer. If you ever start that is.” He almost protested, before he saw the teasing glint in her eyes. “ Theft .”

He glanced down at the magazine and— there it was, emblazoned on the very front and all glossy, Luke’s photo with the text: ‘LEAGUE OFFICIAL SAYS: NEW MOUNTAIN ROUTE OPENING THIS SUMMER! See the sights!’ He gingerly picked it up, flipping through the rather sloppily thrown together magazine. Luke was mentioned once, in fine print in the back. “I… suppose he didn’t get paid for this?”

“He never does. The fact that he never goes to court to contest… well, we can enter his photos, but we can’t represent him in court. The tabloids know he’s an easy target.”

“That’s not right —” he swallowed his protest at the look of not annoyance but pity he got from the others around him. They knew. Of course they knew. They’d had to deal with this sort of thing since before he’d been born . “Isn’t there something you can do?”

“Short of sending Pidgeot to Hurricane them away?” She smiled, running a finger across her bracelet and letting it gleam oily-rainbow iridescent in the sunlight. Just for a moment. “Not much. It’s a dirty world we live in, sometimes— and it’s up to us folk to go out and give it what light we can, sometimes.”

“As photographers?”

“As people.” She snorted. “But yes, as photographers too. If you ever go on your journey, you’ll understand more.” And for that, as she returned to her seat, and the two men got right back into their arguments, and he was left just standing there — Jean-Luc could not but think—

Pondering.

………

[Lumiose Ornithology Club Group Chat]

JeanLucPicture: What would you suggest as a starter, for a new trainer?

GracerRacer: Ryhorn! Bulky Ground/Rock type, resists a bunch, and utterly loyal.

Antoine: Expensive, too. Start with a smaller pokemon. Maybe even a housepet/city battler, like an eevee.

FrancoiSwagger: and you’re the one complaining about rhyhorn being expensive? Do you want to bankrupt the poor kid? Where is he going to get an eevee for less than five figures, huh?

Antoine: You have a point, but still.

FrancoiSwagger: Nah, lemme tell you kiddo, get something electric. Pichu is a good pick. They’re weak, but I’ve heard good things about their evolutions. If you’re going to be out fighting birds, then you’re going to want something that’ll protect you in the wilds.

Antoine: What sort of bs advice is that? Listen, don’t ever bring an electric type into a bird’s nest if you don’t want to royally annoy them.

FrancoiSwagger: Hey! You’re just mad that Manectric wins against Swanna every time!

Antoine: Am not!

GracerRacer: Boys.

PhotoLucario: Riolu.

Antoine: At least an eevee is possible to get.

PhotoLucario: There are populations around. You don’t need a starter to catch a Riolu— you seem like a good kid, if you offer to take care of them and treat them with respect, you could probably convince one to come along with you without too much hassle.

Antoine: ‘Without too much hassle’ he says as if lucario trainers aren’t pseudo-legendary.

JeanLucPicture: You sure know a lot about lucario, huh?

PhotoLucario: :3 What gave it away?

JeanLucPicture: Did you have one of them as your starter?

PhotoLucario: I don’t actually train pokemon.

JeanLucPicture: ????? what?

FrancoiSwagger: Oh he didn’t know? Wait, lemme get my popcorn.

PhotoLucario: I dunno, it just felt awkward to me. I’m good friends with the local pokemon population, so it’s not like I need a pokemon partner.

JeanLucPicture: Don’t you like… travel all over Kalos tho?

PhotoLucario: I can neither confirm nor deny the allegations.

GracerRacer: He’s just built different like that.

PhotoLucario: It’s nothing special. Rangers do it all the time.

GracerRacer: Rangers have styluses, though. You’re going to get hurt one day, and nobody’s going to know where to find you.

PhotoLucario: I’m very safe, Grace. On that matter, Jean-Luc, if you do end up heading out to the wilderness, make sure to pack well— bring a satellite phone, plenty of food and water for all your pokemon and even any catches you might make, potions galore, and enough film to last you for a month or two.

GracerRacer: You’re changing the subject! Plus, it’s not like JeanLuc is going to be heading out into the deep wilds like you do, he’s just going to head

GracerRacer: Actually where were you planning to go?

JeanLucPicture: Through the new mountain route? Sounded interesting.

PhotoLucario: That’s dangerous. The pokemon there aren’t quite used to humans yet— you might get seriously injured.

GracerRacer: That’s rich coming from you , Mr. Deep Wilds Explorer ‘I go beyond even the ranger-mapped places’

PhotoLucario: I’m just concerned for the kid.

GennaGets: Both of you cool down, please. You know this isn’t going to go anywhere, so put a lid on it.

GracerRacer: Sorry mom.

PhotoLucario: Sorry.

GennaGets: Anyways, they’re all missing the point. You’re a birdwatcher — if you really want to go far in the field, what better pokemon is there for you but a bird?

GennaGets: Jean-Luc.

JeanLucPicture: …yes?

GennaGets: Are you serious about going on a journey? I don’t care whether or not you want to get gym badges or just explore, or even if you’re only out there for the year, but— are you committed to going out there and helping people to the best of your abilities?

JeanLucPicture: …yes. Yes I am.

GennaGets: Good. That’s what I wanted to hear! I recently met a cute little fletchling who was just dying to join my team after he saw me and Pidgeot let loose. I’m too old to train up a new pokemon, but you’d do a lovely job, I’m sure.

JeanLucPicture: wait— you already knew I was going on a journey! How?

PhotoLucario: Heh. She’s just like that, sometimes…

………

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” The Kalos mountains stretched before them, rugged and untamed— long separated from the rest of the country by the simple nature of its geography. His fletchling chirped in agreement from his shoulder, staring up in equal awe at the immense majesty of it all. “We’ll be one of the first to see some of that, you know.” His bird chirped again, confusedly this time. “It’s why we came to Dendemille town. They recently made a route all the way to Anistar from here— the longest route in all of Kalos history!”

He’d learnt a lot about the route since he’d begun his travels. Mostly through research, to make sure he wasn’t biting off more than he could chew— but also plenty through just general osmosis. A fair few other trainers— most far stronger than him— had also gone to test their mettle against the newly opened route, and they were rather friendly about giving tips. He’d even won a few trainer battles recently.

Fletchling chirped again, a bit sharper, and Jean-Luc laughed. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right. I’ve gotta keep my head on my shoulders… but you did like beating that youngster’s parichisu, didn’t you?” Fletchling preened— of course he did. “Well, the route’s still pretty wild. You’ll have to keep me safe, alright?”

Fletchling nodded, then, entirely seriously. In all truth, though, as they picked up and set across the long meadow-winding road, to the mountains far above, he wasn’t all too concerned. He’d checked and rechecked, and called the rangers, and even spent most of his short-term savings on a bunch of items to make sure they got through alright. Those aspear berries hadn’t been cheap!

He wasn’t going to wander off route. Maybe take some pictures of the local delibird population, if he could, but with a fire type on his team and more prepared than most of the ace trainers heading north… he was confident.

Soon, he’d be in the mountains proper. “I wonder if I’ll see him.” Fletchling chirped in inquiry, cocking its cute little head. “I mean, Luke.” Another chirp. “Yeah. Probably not. If Grace couldn’t find him, then what chance do I have?” Two more chirps, derisive. “Hey! Grace isn’t dumb! Just because she doesn't have a monster of a pidgeot doesn’t mean she’s as slow as actual rocks. Would you say I’m dumb because I don’t train a fully evolved flying type?” Fletchling warbled, as if considering the question, before decisively nodding.

Jean-Luc just laughed.

………

[Lumiose Ornithology Club Group Chat]

JeanLucPicture: It’s bright up here! Look at these pics I got!

GracerRacer: Ooh, those look chilly! Hope you’re staying warm!

Antoine: Not much bird in those birdwatching photos

JeanLucPicture: Hey, hey, I’m doing my best. Look, there’s some birds silhouetted against the sky in the top corner!

Antoine: That’s definitely going to win you the Poke-Photography Global.

JeanLucPicture: It’s artistic :(

PhotoLucario: I’m jealous. It must be so convenient to be able to just upload your photos to your phone like that!

JeanLucPicture: You use analog, no?

PhotoLucario: Yeah. The TouCannon 2300 Silver (with a custom lens arrangement), to be exact. I think that you can get a lot more out of a good roll of film and proper lens setup than you can with a digital— it has to do with the random molecular distribution of the silver compared to the exactitude of digital exposure. If you finnangle it just right…

PhotoLucario: But you didn’t come here to get a lecture on annularity and lens optics and the science of molecular photology. Great work with those photos! They really do look incredible.

PhotoLucario: Get back to me if you ever find the articuno that lives around those parts!

JeanLucPicture: Ha ha, very funny.

JeanLucPicture: I might get back to you about that lecture though.

PhotoLucario: Maybe when you’re done with your journey and you hit the libraries a bit. Or the internet. You have no idea how lucky you are with that.

JeanLucPicture: Must’ve been hard to learn with only the library.

PhotoLucario: Didn’t even have access to that! I had to order all my stuff— I was out in the field too much, the librarians didn’t like that.

GracerRacer: That’s actually how I tracked him down the first time. Not like there were a lot of people ordering crazy in-depth photography stuff up in the Kalos boondocks.

Antoine: And then she got arrested.

GracerRacer: We don’t talk about that!

JeanLucPicture: I’ve gotta go! I want to make it a bit further before nighttime— I won’t reach Anistar by sitting and texting!

PhotoLucario: Good luck and fair winds! Maybe we’ll get to compare our ice photography when you get back!

GracerRacer: Adieu!

Jean-Luc tucked his satellite phone away, frowning up at the sky. The rangers had assured him that the mountains had nothing but clear weather this time of year— but it didn’t look like it was going to be clear, if the clouds boiling over the far mountain peaks were any indication. He hadn’t brought a mamoswine with him, trusting in the cleared paths… he shivered, and set off a little bit more quickly. It wouldn’t do him any good to tarry.

There was something just… as the sunlight struck the ice, as the winds howled down the route, as he passed through desolation , feeling the touch of cold even through his layers and the parka on top. It shone , silver bright alight, a sea of infinite diamonds only broken by the rugged rocks that jutted out to form the towering peaks. Far in the distance, some birds wheeled around in lazy loops, and— despite himself— Jean-Luc couldn’t help but take a minute to capture a few images. It wasn’t true birdwatching photography, but to simply capture the breathtaking expanse of the world…

There was something special about that.

He snapped a few pictures of Fletchling as he fluttered around— for himself, mostly; trained pokemon couldn’t qualify for most Poke-Photography challenges— and just generally had some fun as he forged forward.

Overhead, the clouds slowly drew closer.

………

A bitter wind rushed down towards them; the sky dark at just past noon, looming clouds rumbling and crackling with thunder as they raced through the valley towards him. Glancing up at the wave of them, crashing down towards the route… “I don’t think we’re going to make it through in time, Fletchling.” His bird chirped in concern, glaring at the storm as if it had personally offended him. “I know…” it shouldn’t have been so stormy. He’d checked! “I think we need to find a place to hole up…”

There wasn’t many places too hide out the storm— the route was treacherous partly in how exposed it was, wide-open high-mountain slopes unburdened by pines spearing skyward or meadow grasses— only sweeping vales and valleys of snow, and jagged outcroppings of rock.

If only there were a cave, he could have sheltered there— but no, he had no such luck. “C’mon. This’ll have to do.” A small outcropping of rock jutted out from the slope, yawning over a tiny bit of space but barely out of the fiercest winds. Just a small overhang, really, but “it’s the best we’re going to find.” Jean-Luc glanced around and out , to the snow driving down only ever fiercer. “I don’t want to go out there while visibility is this bad. Help me light a fire…” unsaid was that it was only going to get worse . He’d heard about the mountain blizzards and how dangerous they could be— he just hadn’t thought he’d get caught in one.

When they had a small, cheery flame going, bravely bright against the howling winds, so feeble— he pulled out his satellite phone.

As the world outside faded to white.

[Lumiose Ornithology Club Group Chat]

GracerRacer: Jean-Luc? Is this reaching you?

GracerRacer: Jean-Luc?

PhotoLucario: It’s rough up here. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s already lost service.

GracerRacer: Should I contact the rangers?

Antoine: They might not respond. They’re probably busy with the more immediately reachable people, on either terminus of the route.

GracerRacer: But surely they should at least sweep over the main part of the route, no?

PhotoLucario: honestly I don’t know. The winds are really rough up here, what with the geography and all; you’d need a trained flyer to get through this storm. And you know how rangers recruit pokemon.

GracerRacer: Or a trained Luke.

PhotoLucario: Yeah, yeah, I just know what I’m doing. I’m a trained explorer!

FrancoiSwagger: By who?

PhotoLucario: Myself :D

Jean-Luc: I’m still alive!

GracerRacer: Thank goodness you’re alright. How are you holding out?

Jean-Luc: I’m hidden out in a

Jean-Luc: Sorry, internet problems, the storm is pretty bad outside. We’re struggling to keep our fire up, lol.

PhotoLucario: Do everything you can to keep that fire burning. If it goes out, you’re in serious trouble.

Jean-Luc: What about you?

PhotoLucario: Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.

GracerRacer: He’s never not been fine before, so— loathe as I am to admit it— he’s probably right about that. You have aspear berries and heals, right?

Jean-Luc: I packed everything I might possibly need, yeah.

GracerRacer: What’s your GPS loc, actually? Send that before you’re completely snowed in.

Jean-Luc: 45°54'00.4"N 6°54'29.9"E

Jean-Luc: I’m

The chat refused to load after that. He sent a few more messages, just question marks, but— no response. The storm had finally descended in full, a roaring silence sweeping across the entire mountain. He could scarcely see a foot out from the overhang— their immediate area only illuminated by the wavering, flickering flame of the campfire. It was… frightening. To be so utterly at the whims of the weather.

He took a few pictures of Fletchling in different poses, just to pass the time, and even one of him tending to the fire, but the tenuous pressure of the situation set him ill at ease. “Maybe next time we won’t head out this way so soon, eh?” Fletchling chirped, annoyed— though at what, Jean-Luc couldn’t tell. “I don’t know. Maybe we’ll rent a mamoswine next time, or something…” and to think he’d been so bold …

He reached out a gloved hand, slowly, running a single finger down Fletchling’s back, and in the silence of infinite white noise, the two of them leaned into each other’s warmth.

Darkness fell.

Slowly, in fits and starts and barely at all— Jean-Luc fell asleep—

Only to be woken in what felt like an eternity and no time at all by a massive thump that shuddered through the outcropping and wrenched him out of his dreamless sleep. “Fletchling?!” The little bird blinked awake, chirping in startled alarm— as another thump sent snow cascading down from above them, spilling into their little alcove and only barely avoiding the fire by virtue of Jean-Luc’s quick thinking. “What’s going on?”

A long and furious howl cut through the raging winds, far too close for comfort. Another thud trembled through the whole of the world around them, a cacophonous boom at this point as— something was out there.

“Hold this.” Jean-Luc fished around in his bag a bit before tossing an Aspear berry to the bird. “If you get frozen, this’ll help. I think…” no delibird or sneasel would ever, could ever shake the ground and make the whole sky tremble with the force of their voice. No; he’d done his research— “I think it's an abomasnow. It would explain the blizzard…” except that if there was a pokemon— or even a group of pokemon, and how dearly he wished for the latter— strong enough to kick up a freak blizzard like this, they were utterly and completely screwed . “Hey… Fletchling.” He leaned down, grim. “If… if I call you back to your pokeball, don’t try and get out. You’ll be fine—”

A squeak of indignation was his only response to that, to which he could only chuckle. Neither of them had known each other long, but… such loyalty. He wouldn't let it go to waste. Hopefully, though, the abomasnow just moved by…

They had, of course, no such luck.

At first it was just an indistinct, stumbling mass in the dark, surrounded by a whipping storm of furious winds and howling snow. A mere silhouette, shambling across the peaks— almost impossibly gargantuan as it slowly, surely, made its way towards them. Jean-Luc had seen big pokemon— he’d grown up in Lumiose city, which had plenty of high-level battlers come through, and was no stranger to Genna’s pidgeot— but nothing like this . A completely wild giant, hostile , slowly coming towards them.

The breeze only intensified until the biting chill was so deep he could almost feel it in his bones. Flurries of snow stirred against the alcove’s back walls, dancing around in the firelight— whirling stars for a moment sizzling and popping as they flung themselves to their inevitable, fiery death.

How relatable.

“Alright, Fletchling.” He gulped. “We’ve got a good type matchup, more or less, if you can avoid getting hit. Abomasnow is weak to fire and fighting, so start charging up the strongest ember you can. We want to scare it off.” Fletchling trilled, then hovered midair, clearly focusing as it pulled the fire-type energy inherent to its species’ latter evolutions.

The abomasnow turned to them, finally, then— its heavy gaze focusing on them with a burning and terrible hatred , or a cold disregard, or a simple violence is it roared furiously, the storm around it redoubling in strength and then rushing out towards them in a furious wave of harsh gales and biting cold.

Jean-Luc held his breath, watching the move scream closer until— “Now! Ride it out of the way and hit him!” Fletchling did so perfectly , riding the gale as it swept through the alcove and washed right back out, flitting alongside the storm’s own force like an arrow at the abomasnow and releasing the ember he’d been charging up. The storm flashed a lurid red as the burning spark of fire crashed into the giant, eliciting a roar of pain. “Again! Hit it again!”

The abomasnow wasn’t having it, though— icy energy accumulated around it, a furious chill settling so deep into its bones as—

It was aiming at him . Yelping, Jean-Luc leapt out of the way as a wave of sheer cold crashed into where he was standing but moments before, harsh enough to crack the stones behind him and snuff out the fires instantly.

He barely had a chance to react, as Fletchling lit up the night with another ember, the flash of fire like lightning against the stormclouds wheeling above. The abomasnow tried to swat Fletchling out of the air, missing only by dint of Fletchling’s agility, the little pokemon dodging back—

It was obvious who was going  to win the battle, though. Another blizzard exploded out from the abomasnow, crashing into Fletchling and driving the bird down into the snow. He only barely managed to avoid getting crushed entirely, twirling across the ground and launching himself right back into the air before he could get pounded to a paste.

Furiously, Jean-Luc raced through plans and actions until— gulping, he grabbed his bag, threw it over his shoulder, and ran into the snow. It was a death sentence, he knew— but so was staying. He’d recall Fletchling and flee, and hope that he could find somewhere else to weather the storm before it was too late—

Fletchling cried out furiously, diving in for another ember—

The storm lit up blue .

It was so unexpected that Jean-Luc froze. Neither of the two battling pokemon had any moves so luridly, electric-bright blue— and as he stared at the pokemon that had leapt out of the snow, a mere silhouette behind the blazingly bright orb of blue in its hands. Then the move landed, blasting the abomasnow off its feet and flinging it into the ground with enough force to rattle the entire mountain.

Picking itself up— and perhaps seeing itself arrayed against two enemies that it was weak to— the abomasnow let out one last roar before loping away into the night. Jean-Luc stepped forward, squinting through the diving snow to get a good look at his savior, a… lucario? He blinked in surprise, shaking off the snow that had frozen to his eyelids— because lucario weren’t native to this part of Kalos.

The lucario barked at him, and— perhaps numb from the battle— he allowed it to grab his hand and drag him back under the alcove where it… started taking things out of a bag and setting up kindling for a new fire. By that point the whole thing was feeling a little bit absurd. The two pokemon conversed for a second before Fletchling spat an ember, igniting the fire.

“Why were you here?” The lucario glanced away, looking slightly sheepish. “Were you looking for something? Your trainer.” A baying laugh, for a second barked— “not a trainer then. You’re by yourself… but, then why do you have a bag like that? And why…” he blinked, as he looked closer at the lucario. 

It had a Silph Co. bag slung over its shoulders, yes, but also a tripod slung over its shoulders, some climbing gear, a tent, and… around its neck, on a well-cared for strap, unmistakably, a camera . It clicked instantly, absurd as the thought was.

Tentatively, he asked, not quite sure whether he’d gone insane— “Luke?” For a long second, he got no response until— slowly, hesitantly, the lucario nodded. “You’re a— what? ” The lucario winced. “Sorry, I’m not upset or anything— really, I’m beyond thankful you saved me but… you’re a lucario. I… can’t say I expected that.”

Luke shrugged, rummaging around in his bag for a second before pulling out a phone. His phone, Jean-Luc realized with a blink— “ yeah. There’s a reason why I keep it quiet. Kalos is… pokemon rights are better than when I was a riolu, but still. I wouldn’t be able to legally represent myself. ” He shrugged, then continued typing. “ That, and I don’t think people would really react well, you know? ”

“Lucario are noble pokemon…”

“But still just pokemon.”
To that, Jean-Luc could think of nothing to say, so he quickly pivoted the conversation, asking— “why’d you come here?”

To that, Luke blushed a bit, the flush barely visible beneath his fur. “ For you. I was in the area, and when the storm started I knew that there would be abomasnow rummaging around… I managed to reach your coordinates, but I couldn’t find you until Fletchling here started lighting up the skies with his embers. ”

“…thank you. I appreciate it, a lot. You saved my life.”

“ I suppose that’s worth the sanctity of a secret, ne? ”

“I won’t tell anyone.” Luke stared into his eyes for a long second, and Jean-Luc stared back into Luke’s own, inhuman— just for a second. “I mean it.”

“ I know you do. I can read your aura. ” For a moment, as the fire crackled and popped, a silence hung between them. “ Thank you .”

“What sort of person would I be if I disregarded your wishes?” He shrugged, not really expecting the response that didn’t come. It had been a rhetorical question, anyways. “I understand why you haven’t revealed yourself to the public, but… everyone in the club are your friends. They’d love to meet you.”

“ I… don’t want to change how they view me. ”

Jean-Luc nodded slowly. “I can see that. It would change how they see you.” Luke glanced at him sharply, to which Jean-Luc just shrugged. “What? Expected some platitude?” Clearly, he had. “We’re always changing how we view each other. Our perceptions are never static, you know— even a picture is just one still frame of an enormous tapestry, ever-moving.” He sighed, basking in the fire’s warmth. “That doesn’t mean change has to be bad . Going on a journey was a change for me, but… it’s been one of the most wonderful things I’ve ever done. A change, but a good one.”

“… I’ll think about it. ”

Jean-Luc didn’t prod further. “Anyways.” He sighed. It had been a long night, and tired as he was, he didn’t think he’d be able to fall asleep anytime soon after the abomasnow attack. “About that lecture…” Luke— Lucario — barked out a laugh but…

As the blizzard raged, they talked—

For the moment, together.

………

[Lumiose Ornithology Club Group Chat]

GracerRacer: Ooh, that’s a nice picture of the Anistar murkrow. I like how you’ve got the sundial in the background! I’ve always been a fan of that.

Antoine: Hah! Of course you would, you rockhead.

JeanLucPicture: It’s been fun.

JeanLucPicture: Also warm.

JeanLucPicture: I’m so glad to be out of those mountains, you have no idea

FrancoiSwagger: I can imagine. I’ve been up there once or twice, but never in such a horrible storm. Did you know it made national news?

JeanLucPicture: I saw lol. The ranger I talked to when I got to Anistar seemed shocked that I was still alive.

Antoine: For good reason, too. Didn’t you say you fought an abomasnow?

JeanLucPicture: Not alone, though.

JeanLucPicture: On that note, you wouldn’t believe who I ran into.

Antoine: A rouge ranger.

FrancoiSwagger: Olympia.

Antoine: How does that even? What? That makes no sense! Olympia was very publicly defending Anistar from the angry abomasnow. Read the news before you guess next time.

GracerRacer: You know he’s just trying to rile you up?

FrancoiSwagger: Maybe, maybe…

GracerRacer: C’mon, stop stringing us along rookie. Who’d you meet?

JeanLucPicture: Luke

GracerRacer: HOLY S*** REALLY?

GracerRacer: What was he like? Who was on his team? Why was he? You’ve gotta tell me everything?

JeanLucPicture: Sorry, I promised I wouldn’t spill.

GracerRacer: Nooooo… fair, I guess. But still, I can’t believe you got to meet him, lucky bastard.

Antoine: You actually met Luke? Like, fewer sightings than some mythical pokemon Luke?

PhotoLucario: Yeah, we did meet up :3

PhotoLucario: Had to save him from an abomasnow.

GracerRacer: With what pokemon??

PhotoLucario: One of them.

GracerRacer: right…

JeanLucPicture: Lay off him, he doesn’t have to share if he doesn’t want to.

GracerRacer: Fine…

PhotoLucario: Thanks.

GracerRacer: so, what’re you planning on for the rest of your journey?

JeanLucPicture: We’re going to explore around the— less snowy, hopefully— Kalos mountains and grab some photos. Fletchling wants to evolve— he’ll be Fletchinder by the time we get back, or maybe even a talonflame. And if I can grab enough money from trainer battles and maybe— hopefully— winning a photography competition or two, I’ll stop by the photography shop in Couriway town and update my lens arrangement.

FrancoiSwagger: Nvm I no longer have any doubt that you met Luke if you’re talking about lenses.

PhotoLucario: Lenses are great, what are you talking about?

GracerRacer: Lol.

GracerRacer: Have fun! Can’t wait to see you again!

JeanLucPicture: I’ll be back before you know it.

………

Sunlight streamed down over Lumiose city. Golden, tinged darkly by the hibernal gloom but still so vainly bold, radiant against the cobblestones and trees. Long shadows pooled in the sharp-dappled shade, shifting and ebbing, and flowing to the tune of the winds as the stately oaks danced to and fro above them, barren. The laughter of children rang through the clearing, brightly, pooling in the quiet meadow to the backdrop of Antoine’s and Francois’s argument, and the quiet chatter of the others.

Despite the chill, everyone was in a bright mood. “I can’t believe he won.” Grace shook her head, a smile on her face. “He actually won. Every time I think he can’t surprise me anymore, he somehow goes and does something even more awesome.”

“Mama? Who won?” Jean-Luc glanced down at the slight, childish voice, a small smile breaking across his face as he saw Serena tugging at her mother’s hand. “Did they win a race?”

“No, no…” still, she was smiling. “Luke scored first place in Poke-Photography Global.” Serena’s eyes widened as she made little grabby hands for the photo, and— after a second, and making sure it was a reprint and not the original— handed it to the little girl, who grabbed it with a squeal of joy as she darted off to show it to her friends. “Pretty crazy that he managed that. That photo’s going to be all over the world for the next few months.”

Jean-Luc shrugged. “He works hard for it, but… really, it's his passion.” He reached down and scratched at talonflame’s head, the pokemon leaning into his touch. “He just really likes birds. And photography. I think he’d be doing this even if he never published a single photo.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She snorted. “You’re not half bad yourself. You placed in the Kalos Birdwatching Annual with those altaria, didn’t you?”

Jean-Luc blushed a bit, looking away. “Yeah. I liked that one a lot…” for a while, they just— spoke, catching up, as they always did every Saturday and Sunday from 1-6PM. It was a strange thing; to not feel apart from the group anymore. After his journey… Grace still called him rookie, and Francois still called him kiddo, and nothing would change that they all had more experience than him… but he was a part of their group.

They were his friends. As he leaned against the table in the winter light and cool breeze and tinge of blissful cool— he could only bring himself to appreciate that…

A crunch of fallen leaves alerted him to someone’s approach. He glanced up, curious— everyone was already there, and most people who just passed through the clearing, few as they were, came along the paths. His pause had drawn Grace’s attention, too, as—

His eyes widened. “ Luke? What are you doing here?”

The lucario stepped out into the sunlight, looking a little bit nervous as he glanced around the clearing— wide, lupine eyes taking in every aspect of it, from the children tussling to the rain-streaked pavilion to the sign leant up against its’ support, and the breath of winter—

“Wait wait wait that’s—” Grace stared at the lucario for a few seconds longer before facepalming. “Oh my god I can’t believe it.” Luke shied backwards at the reaction— “you’re a lucario? ” Then— she laughed. A slight giggle, to a cackling wheeze — “that’s— that’s incredible. It all makes so much sense now.”

Antoine squinted at Jean-Luc. “You’re not playing a joke on us, no?”
“No! No, it makes sense—” Grace continued— “he doesn’t travel with pokemon because he is a pokemon. He spends so much time in the wilds because that’s the sort of environment a strong pokemon like a lucario would thrive in. He never meets up with anyone because it's not like he’s a zoroark or anything— they’d instantly know what he was. It all fits.”

At that point, Luke was looking a little uncomfortable. Francois stared at him… then snorted, reaching out a hand. “Nice to meet you for real, Luke. Unexpected though this might be.” Tentatively, Luke reached out and took the proffered hand, shaking it firmly. “What made you come here after so long?”

Luke pulled a pen out of a pocket, and— grabbing one of the magazines on the table, scrawled neatly— “ someone got me thinking. ” Jean-Luc very carefully did not react; everyone glanced at him regardless. “ If strangers were to find out, then the results would be disastrous… but you’re not strangers, are you? You’re all my friends. ”

“Ah. Luke.” Genna smiled as she hobbled over to the table and read what’d been written. For a while, she was simply silent— studying the lucario in front of her with a soft, age-wearied gaze… before she smiled and gave him a nod. “Congratulations on winning the Poke-Photography Global.” And that was that.

Everyone had their own questions, sure, and the kids wanted to see ‘cool pokemon moves,’ and… it was a long day— they stayed out well past six— but… everyone got along. Even through what communications barriers existed… he simply fit . After all, he’d always been the best birdwatcher amongst them.

It was… nice.

All was well.