Hi. I'm Nikki. I'm a mostly silent cog in the machine that is 3DSPaint.

Here's some prose I wrote about a video game that is near and dear to my heart — Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Blue Rescue Team.

I might write some more. I just don't really know how to proceed (ayyy) from where I left off writing.

I hope you enjoy reading.

—

Mount Deepgreen, Air Continent - 2009

It was ablaze. The headquarters that she operated out of with the love of her life for the past four years was lit on fire. Nikki coughed dryly, without a doubt a side effect of the bag of Blast Seeds she had dumped into her maw minutes earlier.

Embers danced in the air around her, singeing all that it touched. Whenever one made contact with her skin or foliage, she hardly reacted. All she could do was watch as the flames tore through the supports of the building. She estimated that she could continue staring at Rogue One's headquarters for a bit longer before she would have to move away from the crumbling debris before her.

She had received the news earlier in the day. She was growing worried - Marian hadn't ever spent such a long time on a single expedition. She could definitely handle herself. That was until there was a knock on the door.

She was found dead outside of Wish Cave, the ninety-nine floor dungeon rumored to be the home of the mythical Jirachi, a being who according to legend, could grant any wish to anyone who was tough enough to venture through the dungeon.

The structure’s supports finally caved in, and Nikki snapped out of her memories just soon enough to vault herself out of the way of the falling, smoldering wood.

Nikki looked down at the only remains she had to remember Marian by — her skull, and her bone club. She picked up the skull in her vine, turning it over to get a good look at it. Without thinking, she pulled it over her head and leaf — surprisingly, a perfect fit. She then picked up the bone, and gave it a good swing. She then held it close to her, taking in a breath of the charred mountain air of Mount Deepgreen.

She turned around and walked the other way, allowing the structure to burn as she paused to briefly gaze down towards Pokemon Square. She briefly thought about saying goodbye to everybody, but quickly decided that she couldn't bring herself to face anyone. Nobody would have been awake, in any case.

And so, the Chikorita continued southbound, a tragically ironic party of one.

—

Sahra Town, Sand Continent, 2023

The sun began to set behind the western horizon of the town, bringing darkness to the desert town, which could be more aptly described as a ghost town if not for the few businesses and Pokemon who had remained settled there.

Besides, a certain imp’s residency was a fairly strong hindrance on the local tourism board.

Fourteen years had gone by since Marian’s death, and yet Nikki was just as depressed as ever. The former human had already squandered her opportunity to go back to the human world a mere two years before the tragedy. She had wished very strongly to remain with Marian, her irreplaceable friend and lover, and so it was granted to her. Things were perfect, and Nikki wouldn’t have it any other way.

After her tragic demise, Nikki had attempted several rebound dates, but she could never find a Pokemon to reignite the spark with. Not helping matters was the distinctly Marowak skull she wore on her head at all times. Even in the current year, Pokemon found a Chikorita following a tribal Pokemon’s customs to be far too strange.

The only thing preventing Nikki from an early expiration was that she was still one of the top-ranked Rescue Teams on the planet, but even rescuing had long since lost its appeal. No amount of money bought a slither of happiness for the Chikorita, and even the smiling faces of those she helped couldn’t bring her out of the continuous depression she had been suffering for almost a decade and a half.

“Another,” she asked the Raboot barkeeper, jiggling the ice cubes in her glass.

“Miss Fey, are you sure? You’ve been sitting at my bar for four hours now,” he asked as he raised a brow, polishing another glass with a cloth.

“I’m not sure about anything anymore,” Nikki bemoaned as she pushed the glass towards the Raboot, pushing it too far in her stupor and off the table. The sound of glass shattering had long stopped phasing the rabbit. His lips pursed under his balaclava as he stepped around the shattered glass to fill the cup in his paw.

“It’s not my place, Miss Fey, but I can’t help noticing that you’ve been in here a lot,” he started, “are you having trouble finding work? I find it hard to believe that a rescuer of your standing would be short of-”

“You’re damn right it’s not your place!” She interrupted, a growl escaping her lips as she stared into the bunny’s eyes.

The Raboot was still unphased. He had dealt with this many times before. He had learned not to put too much stock in a drunk ‘mon’s words, as they were rarely the thoughts of a sober ‘mon’s.

“Yes, ma’am,” he conceded as he gave the Chikorita another glass, stepping over the glass shards to retrieve the broom.

The Chikorita let out a sigh, her vine snaking through the bottom of her skull to rub at her bloodshot eyes. She was quite dexterous with them after eighteen years of practice, finding them to have many advantages over the hands she used to possess. She had learned to move her body naturally and efficiently, able to keep pace and even outpace members of her species with ease. Her greatest feat after all this time was still when she managed to restrain Groudon with her vines long enough for Marian to—

She took a gulp of her drink. Why couldn’t she just move on?