Bab 15: 1-2
Leo counted his blessings – most of which were laid out before him. First and foremost was a pocketknife; a small flip-blade with an inch long blade which would be his most important possession in the coming days. Second was the plastic water bottle he had; it would be good to have a container like that, be it for water or something else. Third was his backpack; the heavy duty green canvas was waterproofed, and, in a pinch, he could dissect it to use as bandages or the like. Fourth was the small pack of matches he had apparently left buried in the deepest depths of his pack and only found now, when he dumped most everything else out. Everything else in there was trash – some college papers, folders, the like. They could be used for kindling but wouldn't do much else in his current predicament. That wasn't to say his blessings ended there, however. His fifth and sixth blessings weren't physical objects.
Fifth was his location. Tall pine trees rose around him and mountains loomed on either side of the green valley he sat in the middle of, a river gently flowing off to his right. Leo sucked in a deep breath, appreciating the scent of pine, and listened to the wind as it rustled the trees. He was a mountain boy through and through. And though his wilderness survival skills may be a little rusty thanks to college and work taking up most of his time in the past few years, he was certain that he could at least survive here. It'd take a little bit of work, some trial and error to get his skills back up to snuff, but it was certainly doable. Which led him to his sixth blessing, which also doubled as a problem. He was not alone.
At least, I wasn't alone, Leo thought acidly. It had been a rollercoaster of a day. First, he got magically transported to a swirling tunnel of void and stars thanks to a literal hole in the sky, which had been utterly terrifying but at least he had company. His good friend Jack had been transported with him, and while it wasn't ideal in any way, Leo was glad for the company. It would keep him from losing his mind, at least, as they floated through a literal void of space, somehow without dying. That was until a massive bat made of sky and stars came out of literally nowhere, snatched the two up, and flew through yet another hole in the sky. To top it off the bat was sentient and spoke to Leo telepathically, which wasn't strange at all and totally didn't freak Leo out, having another voice in his head, and had promised to take the two to where they were meant to be.
Apparently that meant dumping Leo in the middle of a forest, and whisking Jack off to who-knows-where. Which led him to his next problem; he wasn't on Earth anymore. Taking a deep breath Leo closed his eyes, then looked up and glared at the pink face that stared at him.
"Sloooow?" It asked, cocking its head to the side, blank eyes staring directly at him. Leo frowned even harder. Slowpoke. The bat – who he figured had to be Lunala, there was nothing else that fit the description – had dropped him into the middle of a slowpoke herd. He was surrounded by the things, dozens of pink blobs of fat lounging around the river, dipping their tails in the water and occasionally swishing them side to side. He even spotted a few slowbro slowly swimming about in the placid waters, their splashes adding to the peaceful ambiance of the forest.
Leo was sure there was some sort of implied insult here, what with the whole where you're meant to be line.
So his biggest problem wasn't that he was alone in a forest with no idea of his general location or the location of any sort of civilization, but that he was in a completely foreign world; the world of pokemon. Oh sure, he knew enough about pokémon as a long-time fan, but there was a truly massive difference between game mechanics and reality. How did attacks work? How did pokémon behave? Were they as intelligent as portrayed in the anime, or were they closer to the animals back home? There was very little he knew and only so much he could figure out without simply experiencing it firsthand. Which could be mighty dangerous.
And to top it all off Leo was far, far shorter now. Everything just seemed bigger, and he had a sneaking suspicion that it wasn't because everything was bigger in this world. He was almost certain that it was because he had gotten shorter – his hands looked smaller and softer too, the hands of a child – which, if he'd read enough fanfiction to come up with an idea of what that meant, was not good news. Either he had regressed in age, or had a new body, both of which came with a whole slew of existential/philosophical issues that he, quite frankly, did not have the luxury to worry about right now. His first order of business was just to survive.
"Ok, my first order of business is fresh water," Leo muttered to himself, standing and looking towards the river. Another problem was that he had no way to boil water, ensuring it was safe to drink. He supposed he could try his luck with the river water, figuring that it most likely didn't have the problems many of Earth's rivers had with pollution, but did he really want to risk getting giardia? He wasn't sure he had much of a choice. Leo swallowed heavily at the thought of getting sick out here. It would be a death sentence, so long as he didn't have a proper food and water supply and –
"NO," Leo chided himself, shaking his head to clear it of all thoughts. "Don't think like that, it'll do you no good. You can't control what's going to happen, so roll with it. Focus on the next steps; food and shelter." His nervousness did not leave despite his pep talk, the emotion bubbling in his stomach even as he tried to ignore it, but now he was refocused.
Moving with purpose, Leo bent and stuffed all his things into his backpack before standing and stretching, slinging said backpack over his shoulders. Glancing around, he made a note of his location relative to the two mountains the river wound between, picking out key features so he could make his way back to the slowpoke herd. It would be pretty simple, all told. The valley wasn't that wide, and the mountains fairly steep – Leo wouldn't be climbing up them in the near future. Besides, if nothing else, he understood that the slowpoke were docile and, if his hunch was correct, they may be able to provide him with some food. Slowpoke tails were edible, right? He remembered that from the games, even if it had been frowned upon. At least, that's what the games led you to believe when Team Rocket was hunting slowpoke tails.
And so, he started off marching into the woods confidently and cautiously, trying his hardest to keep his wits about him. He would survive this, no matter how insane the situation was. He just had to take things one step at a time.
Leo figured out pretty quickly that sticking next to the slowpoke herd as they headed downstream was a great idea. Mainly because they provided a steady source of food in the form of fish – mainly magikarp and goldeen of varying sizes. For whatever reason the fish seemed to flock to their tails whenever the slowpoke would dip them in the river, biting the tips and allowing the slowpoke to fish them up with relative ease. It was easy enough to snatch a few of the fish away from the slow pokemon, the harder part was cooking them.
"C'mon, work already," he hissed in frustration, rubbing his hands together as fast as he could, trying his hardest to get the stick he was holding to create enough friction to create sparks and ignite his kindling. It had already been three days since he'd been dumped into this world, and Leo was getting frustrated. He didn't have the strength anymore to reliably use the hand drill method, and he'd never really practiced it too much in the first place. His matches weren't unlimited, he had at most twenty of the things left, so before he ran out he wanted to have an alternative method of starting a fire, which had led to his current activity.
"I miss my survival kit," Leo grumbled, setting down the stick and rubbing his face. He'd had at least five different ways to start a fire in his survival kit back home, plus a whole bunch of other necessities, and just thinking about having that kit right now made him…well, he wasn't sure how he felt. Nostalgic? Sentimental? Like he wanted to cry because he had left his entire world behind? Like death was a very real possibility right now? All of the above and more, most likely.
A cool wind blew through the tall pines, whistling through the valley floor and making Leo shiver, his hair standing on end and goosebumps crawling up his arms. The small copse of trees he had chosen to take shelter in blocked the most of the wind, but nights up here got real cold real quick, and, if the brilliant orange in the sky and how the sun had already hidden itself behind the mountains were anything to go by, night was coming soon. Leo shuddered and glanced at the magikarp off to his left, sighing. He'd told himself that if he didn't get a fire started with the hand drill, he wouldn't eat fish tonight, even if the fish was far smaller than the anime and games had portrayed. The red, crowned fish was maybe the size of a trout, six to eight inches long, but he supposed that made sense. There was no way a river a foot deep could support entire schools of massive magikarp. So, with a heavy heart, Leo picked up the fish, stood, and tossed it as hard as he could, barely getting it into the river a dozen or so feet away.
"Stupid kid arms," Leo grumbled, lamenting not for the first time his sudden lack of strength. He was pretty sure that was the reason he couldn't get the hand drill to work, the strength in his arms weren't letting him get enough friction. But that could also just be an excuse.
With a sigh, Leo pushed his makeshift fire starter to the side – maybe he made it wrong, that could be the problem – and looked out over the slowpoke herd. His hand absently reached to the side, picking at the pile of pine nuts he had set on a small rock to his right. They were tiny things, almost inedible and definitely out of season, but pinecones were plentiful, and calories were calories. He had to keep his strength up, even if he was punishing himself for failure. Plus, he'd eaten a ton of magikarp and goldeen over the past few days, that was part of the reason he felt comfortable forgoing a meal.
The slowpoke herd, on the other hand, felt no qualms about skimping on meals. Leo watched as a slowbro that had been slowly ambling through the shallow waters of the river moved over to pick up Leo's discarded fish and swallowed it in one gulp. The massive creature was at least five feet tall, and it fixated its dopey eyes on Leo for a brief moment before turning and wading back into the river. It was the biggest one of the herd, the other slowbro being a mere four feet tall and the slowpoke ranging between standing at two to three feet, and Leo had taken to calling him Derp. Not the most flattering of names, but that was all Leo could use to describe the big, dopey creature. It just didn't seem to be altogether there.
"Slooooow," it called, pushing on down the river, prompting similar calls from the rest of the herd. Leo counted exactly twenty three slowpoke and two slowbro in the herd, and they were, for the most part, pleasant company. Yes, they were slow moving, only covering a couple miles in a day as they migrated downriver, and they reminded him of cows in a way, but they didn't even seem to register his presence either. He could walk among them without earning their ire, though a few did watch him warily the first few times he'd stolen their fish.
It was also kind of fun to observe their habits. Most slowpoke didn't really seem to care where they slept during the day, so long as it was in the sun, but at night they took their time picking out the softest parts of the riverbank. Whether that entailed digging into the silt and soil, or stamping down grass to make a bed of sorts, they spent at least an hour every night just settling down. They even got in arguments over who got the best spot sometimes, that was what caused the first pokémon battle Leo had ever seen in this world. All it consisted of was two short water guns, one which missed and the second hitting the other slowpoke in the face, but still! It was amazing to see water shoot out of a slowpoke's mouth at great speed.
Still, it did remind him that slowpoke were pokemon, and had abilities. They were potentially dangerous and, if his memory serves him correctly, part psychic type. Whatever that entailed or how it worked, he didn't know, but it wasn't like he could worry too much about it either. The slowpoke were his food source and, thankfully, the river had clean water. It wasn't like he could just skedaddle on out of the mountains when he had no idea where to go, or what might be or not be food. He needed to secure his future first, then he could explore.
Another cold breeze broke Leo out of his musings, and he shivered, deciding it was time for bed. He'd forgo a fire tonight, since he couldn't get it started the primitive way, and instead turned to the pile of pine needles, leaves, and the one fairly big and bushy pine bough he had picked up off of a fallen tree. That was his bed for the night, and though it was by no means comfortable – Leo would have to resituate himself several times throughout the night – it would keep him warm even without a fire.
Thankfully he still had his backpack to use as a pillow.
"Goodnight, slowpoke," Leo whispered, sliding into his pile and struggling to not itch himself as the pine needles poked through his clothes. The slowpoke did not reply, and Leo watch the sky fade from orange to grey to black, a brilliant sky of stars coming into being through the treetops, as he lay there trying to sleep.
It was going to be a long, restless night.
Leo muttered to himself as he shifted through the pile of shale, tossing the flat rocks to the side as he searched through them. It had been a solid week since his arrival in this valley, and the slowpoke were slow movers. They had travelled maybe ten miles in the past four days, which at least did allow Leo enough time to practice his survival skills and try to get them back up to snuff.
He still hadn't gotten the hand drill fire starting method down, so now he was searching for another solution; flint. His knife – which had been invaluable over the past few days, and he needed to find a good whetstone for it to keep it sharp – was made of carbon steel, which would work well to create sparks if he could find a good rock to bash against it. Heck, he was pretty sure he didn't even need flint, just something hard and with an edge to strike against the back of his knife.
"You'd think I'd be able to find something in this big old pile of rocks, but no," Leo grumbled, halting his search to look around. The pile was at least a hundred feet tall and twenty five feet across, and consisted largely of squared, black stones. "These rocks are all useless,"
To prove his point, Leo struck the back of his knife against one of the rocks, chipping off a piece of stone the rock and producing no sparks, nearly losing his grip on his knife in the process. With a sigh Leo shoved his knife back in his pocket and began shifting through the stones once more.
That is, until one of the rocks he grabbed began to move.
"What in the – " Was all the managed to get out when the head-sized rock opened its eyes and glared at him. Shale flew as the geodude burst forth from its hiding spot, one fist barreling forward and planting itself directly into Leo's chest.
His breath left him with a whoosh and, briefly, Leo found himself falling through the air. Then he was tumbling head over heels down the mountainside, slamming into rocks. Pain rocketed through him as stone dug into his skin, and suddenly he was lying flat on his back, staring up at the cloudless blue sky with grass beneath him.
Leo groaned, trying to ignore the pain all over as he craned his head to look back at the shale pile. He could still see the geodude, clambering its way up the mountain as it fled. It would have looked funny to see a ball of rock powering it's way up a mountain on two oversized arms, were it not for the pain he was in. Though he should probably consider it a small blessing that it didn't chase after him.
"Ugly, goofy little creature," Leo grumbled as he slowly sat up, checking to see if anything was broken. Thankfully it didn't seem like it, but he was sure to be sore and bruised, and he was certainly bleeding. So Leo sat there for a few minutes, catching his breath and calming his nerves as he stared at the shale pile. He needed another way to create fire, other than matches. Flint and steel would be easier than the hand drill method, too. And, now that he thought about it, he may be able to find a rock that might serve as a platter for cooking so he wasn't roasting whole fish on a stick like you'd see in a cartoon, or even one that could be turned into bowl of sorts. He had to keep looking.
But first he was just going to sit here and hurt.
The pidgey cooed, and Leo, laying flat on his belly watching the bird hop across the ground in search of seeds or bugs, cooed back. This pidgey had been hanging around him for the past few hours, noticable by the almost reddish tint to its feathers that other pidgey lacked, and Leo had decided now was a good time to bird watch, and perhaps make friends. The pidgey seemed indifferent to his calls for the most part though.
Sighing, Leo sat up, wincing slightly as his back twinged in pain from his fall with the geodude a day ago. He hadn't even found any flint, either. Thankfully the slowpoke were still fishing their hearts out, providing Leo with enough easy food. He honestly didn't know what he'd do without them.
Though speaking of food, Leo eyed the grasshoppers that buzzed and flew through the air every time the pidgey got too close. It had been a bit of a discovery for Leo to realize this world had actual bugs like Earth, not just bug pokemon. The small, normal-sized and shaped bugs were a staple food source for many critters, and important for the ecosystem. Pokemon were just…too big to fill that role, Leo figured.
Ever so slowly, Leo reached out and snagged one of the locusts that had been lounging on a grass stalk just in front of him. It was…time for lunch, and Leo figured he should at least try to eat the bug. He'd heard somewhere that grasshoppers were excellent sources of calories.
"Through the lips, over the gums, look out stomach – you're not gonna like this," Leo whispered, trying his hardest to ignore the buzzing in his hand as he, in one swift motion, popped the grasshopper in his mouth, bit once filling his mouth with disgusting bug juices, and swallowed. This was immediately followed by gagging and retching that echoed throughout the meadow, startling the pidgey and causing it to shoot off into the air with an annoyed squawk and the flapping of wings.
"That was vile," Leo hissed through his teeth, holding the back of his hand to his mouth and fighting back the urge to vomit. "I'll probably just stick with ants. At least they just taste like salt," this was a fact Leo could attest to, as he had eaten quite a few ants when he was a kid. His brother had dared him to, so he did, and lo and behold he liked the taste.
"I want a hamburger. And chicken, or fruit," Leo said wistfully. His diet almost exclusively consisted of nuts and fish, neither of which were seasoned and thus, bland. Plus he had to go through a lot of work just to get a few pine nuts. It made him really appreciate the ease of access for food in his previous world, which brought him around to thinking about proper nutrition. Leo did have a few concerns about the variety of his diet and whether he was getting all the proper nutrients, but again, there was little he could do. Maybe if he understood what plants were edible or not he could do something about it, but he didn't, so the point was moot.
Glancing at the sky next, Leo frowned. The temperature was already starting to drop despite it being midday, and on the horizon sat ominous grey clouds. A storm was coming and he didn't really have any real shelter from it. There weren't any convenient caves nearby, no rocks to hide under, and his trick with the pine needles to keep warm wouldn't really help with staying dry. Leo rubbed his chin, trying to think of something that might help…
The meadow in front of him was useless, and the tall pines weren't really helpful either. Further down the river was a bunch of willow-like bushes, dense green things with heavy, almost minty-smelling leaves that could probably provide some cover, but he wasn't sure he wanted to crawl in there after watching an spinarak scuttle its way in the bushes earlier. Leo shuddered just thinking of the massive green spider. He may have gotten over his fear of spiders years ago, but that didn't mean he liked the horrific creatures. Much less one that was a foot in diameter.
I wonder how spinarak tastes…Leo thought randomly before shaking that image out of his head. He had almost imagined the spinarak like a land crab, and though he'd heard of people eating the massive bird-eating spider in his old world, he wasn't quite desperate enough to follow suit quite yet. No, his top priority was to find shelter from the storm, and, as he tended to do now, he turned to the slowpoke for help.
On the other side of the river bank was the slowpoke herd, having crossed over sometime the previous night, and were hanging out next to a rocky outcropping, sunning themselves on the rocks and lounging in the shallow waters. The rocks could be an option, but that would mean crossing the river. The murky waters didn't look dangerous, and the current wasn't fast, but Leo wanted to avoid that if at all possible. He didn't know why, really, he just didn't want to cross the river. Besides, the rocks wouldn't keep him dry, they'd just shelter him a bit from the wind – thus, useless.
"Slooow," one of the slowpoke called, yawning immediately after. The rest of the herd yawned as well, almost like it was choreographed. Leo bit back his own yawn, the effort making his eyes tear up.
"Right, let's go take a look around, see what I can find," Leo said, standing up slowly and gingerly. His knee popped painfully as he stood, and he grimaced. "Should be fun," he told himself through gritted teeth, and moved off into the forest.
After about an hour and a half of searching, during which time he ran across a colony of oddish led by a foul-smelling gloom that had eyed him warily, Leo stumbled across a god-send. A copse of trees at the base of the mountain, about a mile from where Leo had last seen the slowpoke herd, stood tall and dense, but most importantly, they were of a different species of tree than Leo had seen around. Aspens and tall pine were common, but the grove consisted mostly of a blue-spruce lookalike with big bushy branches that bent and touched the ground, completely covering the base of the trunk. And when Leo pushed aside the branches it revealed a completely covered area free of tree branches that Leo could easily lay underneath and ideally stay dry.
"Finally, some more good luck," Leo breathed in relief, smiling to himself. He hadn't found a good stone to help him start fires yet, nor was the hand drill method working, so he was glad something else had gone right. Plus this grove consisted almost entirely of these same trees! So if he got bored of the first tree, then he could move!
It was a good thing he found the trees, too, because not an hour later, while he was busy trying to find a good whetstone for his knife along the river, it started to rain.
Leo pocketed the smooth river stone he had been examining, squinting up at the sky as it began to drizzle. He could still see sunny skies to his left, in the direction the storm was heading, but to his right was nothing but increasingly dark storm clouds and the rumbling of thunder. Leo sucked in a deep breath, enjoying the scent of rain and letting the misty droplets slick his hair.
"Gotta love a good storm," he said, trying to remain upbeat as he headed back to his tree, sliding underneath the branches and laying still, pleased to see he was right, and that he was being kept dry for now. He'd have to see if that stayed true if the rain picked up, but for now he remained hopeful.
After a few moments of watching the rain through the branches, Leo pulled out his knife, flipped it open, and pulled out the stone he had grabbed. He didn't know if it was the right coarseness to get the best edge, but the blade was dull enough as it was, so anything would help. The sound of metal scraping against stone filled Leo's ears for the better part of an hour, at the end of which his knife was a fair bit sharper than it had been.
Left with not much else to do as the temperature continued to drop and the rain picked up, Leo pulled a few of the branches aside to watch the rain.
Most critters seemed to have the same idea as Leo and were hiding, but some had different plans. Five wooper came waltzing out of the river, shaking their little blue bodies in the rain and happily skipping about, shooting jets of water and globs of mud at each other as they played. Lei chuckled quietly as he watched their antics. They traipsed about for a while, whooping and playing and shuffling in the mud. Leo noticed one digging up plants and chewing on something just a little ways away from the river, which he made a mental note to check out when it stopped raining. But they didn't stay out for long, and vanished back into the river just as quickly as they had come.
Then another brilliant idea he should've thought if earlier flashed into Leo's mind and, shuffling through his backpack, which he had stowed beneath the tree before the rain hit, he procured his water bottles, filled with murky river water as they were. Leo promptly dumped those out and placed them beneath streams of rainwater pouring from the tree he lay under to fill up. There, he thought with a small smile, laying down. Now I have something to drink besides river water.
The rain lasted for a solid sixteen hours. Leo wasn't actually sure how long it rained, he was more of guessing based on how the rain started around mid afternoon, and ended mid morning the next day. Which sucked because now Leo was cold and stiff from laying beneath a tree for that long, unable to really cover himself at all and the tree cover only providing the bare minimum of support. And now he was hungry, so as he slid out of the tree cover, the wet soil clinging to his hands and knees and squelching beneath his feet, he made immediate plans to procure food.
Steam rolled off the ground as the early morning sun warmed it, setting the world into a picturesque moment that Leo had to stop and admire. The morning sun filtered through the trees in individual rays, and the pine needles glistened with water. Leo groaned and stretched, his knees and back popping loudly. The cold clung to his body bone-deep, and he wiggled his fingers in an attempt to bring life back into them. He stamped his feet and started moving, heading towards the slowpoke herd, and jumping up and down to get his blood pumping, trying to alleviate at least some of the chill. So fixated on the cold he was, he almost didn't notice the churned soil where the wooper had been digging the previous day.
Leo hesitated for a moment, debating coming back later to investigate. No, he thought to himself. I should take a look now, before I forget. So he bent over, searching around for what the wooper had dug up.
It took a good few minutes for Leo to find anything, most of the evidence having been washed away by the rain save for the holes in the ground the wooper had left, and what he did find filled him with hope. A plant had been dug up, with broad, dark green leaves and a large, round root that had chunks torn out of it. It looked an awful lot like a tuber – a wild potato maybe? Leo searched for more, the distinct leaves proving easy to find. He dug one up with enthusiasm, his hands clawing at the soft soil, until it revealed to him its prize – an unblemished, albeit dirt covered, root that fit snugly into the palm of his hand. It was maybe three inches long, and an inch around.
Looking at it, Leo could see the resemblance to a potato, and when he broke it open with a wet snap to taste it, his suspicions were confirmed. The pale white meat of the tuber tasted like a bitter potato, and Leo laughed aloud. Here he was, surrounded by vegetables, and he didn't even know it.
Still, he couldn't help but grin wildly. As terrible as the situation was currently, Leo could survive.
"No, not just survive," Leo told himself, digging up more of the pseudo potato plants for breakfast. "These mountains can provide everything I need to thrive."
2
Rock clashed against metal and sparks flew, landing in the loosely packed pile of dead grass and pine needles. Smoke began to rise from the set of kindling and Leo scrambled forward onto his hands and knees, his knife and the stone he had been using tossed to the side as he leaned down to gently blow on the budding fire, coaxing the sparks to bloom into a full-blown flame. Soon enough flames started to catch on the tee-pee style formation of twigs settled around the kindling, and Leo began to add bigger sticks to it, feeding the fire but trying not to smother it with too much fuel. It took maybe two minutes for Leo to be satisfied that his fire wouldn't die, and he laughed at the sight of the small, merry flame slowly growing in size before him.
"What do you think of that, huh?" Leo boasted smugly to the slowpoke not but three feet to his right, its blank eyes staring at the flames.
"Sloooow?" It called, tilting its head to the side, tail slowly wagging back and forth.
"Finally, I have successfully found a replacement for matches – though I should probably still figure out the hand drill method, don't you think?" Leo asked, crossing his arms and sitting back, content to just watch for now.
The slowpoke made a strange noise in the back of its throat and, with a slow, almost methodical movement, opened its mouth to shoot a jet of water at the flame, successfully dousing it and the pile of sticks Leo had collected behind it. Leo's jaw dropped, the remains of his creation now just a pile of blackened twigs and smoke. His first successful fire without using matches, and a stupid slowpoke destroyed it.
"Slooow," the slowpoke said, and Leo could almost see the smug gleam in its eyes as it turned to look at him.
"You little jerk," Leo hissed, resisting the urge to shove the slowpoke away. With slow, methodical movements the slowpoke turned around and ambled back to its herd, greeting its fellow slowpoke with low calls and the occasional nudge. Leo just glared as it left, uncaring about how upset Leo was with it.
He couldn't stay mad though, and slumped forward. At least he knew he could start a fire now, and he hadn't really needed it at the moment. Still, it would have been nice to revel in his victory for a few more moments before the slowpoke put out the fire.
Stretching and standing, Leo turned his attention to the slowpoke herd. They had led him to a big lake, he estimated it was probably at least a mile long at its widest, though the slowpoke had congregated where the river flowed into the lake. The slowbro swam lazily through the waters, occasionally diving beneath the surface, while the slowpoke lounged on the shores, tails dangling in the waters. Three butterfree danced in the air above the lake, glittering scales falling from their wings to land on the surface of the water, which was set to gleaming by the mid-morning sun. To the right side of the lake dense trees grew, following up the entirety of the mountain. More mountains rose in front and to the left of the lake, great behemoths of rock and stone that held untold secrets – or so Leo liked to romanticize it.
"What a beautiful day though, isn't it?" Leo murmured. And truly it was. The air was crisp and cool, the slight breeze rustled the trees, and the buzzing of insects coupled with the occasional cry of a pokémon created a symphony that flowed through Leo's body and touched his very soul.
There could be a lot to complain about his situation, that is true, but Leo would be lying if he said he wasn't having fun. Adventure hadn't been laid at his feet, he had been submerged fully into it – there was no escaping it even if he wanted to, not that he did. He just had to force himself not to think about all that he left behind, all he had left undone. Which at the moment, was hard to do.
Leo let out a breath and looked at the sky, a singular bird pokémon flying high above.
"For of all sad words of tongue or pen, the saddest are these: It might have been!" he recited slowly, drawing upon his memories of a poem he had read long ago written by one John Greenleaf Whittier. Leo had enjoyed poetry to some degree, but never really got too into it. There had always been other things to do, but the quote here had always stuck out to him and was just a bit too relevant.
He didn't want to think that he had been given another chance in this…new life, for that is all Leo could really think to call it, because that would be something along the lines of admitting defeat. He had been young, he had found a purpose, and now, all he could dream about his old life was what might have been. He might have been great, or good, or…any number of things. Now he was here, in this world, with no explanation as to why. It had better be a good reason, Leo thought, a bubble of anger worming its way into his stomach.
"But there's no point in dwelling on 'might have beens.' You've still got things to do Leo," he told himself, tamping down his anger and pushing away his thoughts. "You've got an alternative fire method down, and you still need to figure out the hand drill method, but right now you need to secure another supply of meat besides mooching off of the slowpoke. So let's start with tracking, and figuring out traps," he muttered, rubbing his face.
Sure, he could gather edible plants for food, but he had been considering another problem – clothing. He had no idea what time of year it was, and this high in the mountains things were sure to get cold in the winter. Leo was not dressed for winter. All he had was his black, Billy Joel concert t-shirt and plain jeans, which spelled almost certain death during the first snow. So he wanted to find and hunt a furry pokémon that he could potentially tan and turn into a coat or something. Tanning leather was another problem though, but one he'd have to figure out once he got around to successfully hunting things.
"It's a good thing I'm a master of camouflage," Leo joked with a laugh, stripping completely nude and traipsing towards the lake. First he was going to "camouflage" himself, then he would go start tracking and trying to sneak up on things. He'd seen a few sentret and rattata around, they should make good practice targets. A wide grin spread across Leo's face as his toes sunk into the mud of the shore. "Who am I kidding? This is just an excuse to play in the mud," he declared proudly, and promptly fell flat on his face to roll about on the muddy shoreline.
He slathered and splashed mud all over himself, sticking blades of grass and twigs into the larger clumps that stuck to him more for his amusement than for any form of camouflage. A part of him wondered how well this would work, another didn't really care. Though that internal debate was settled mostly by the sudden appearance of a slowpoke, dropping itself onto the ground next to him and thrashing about, covering its pink hide with mud.
It stopped after a brief second and stared blankly at Leo, cocking its head to the side with a smear of dark brown mud on top of its head.
"Slooow?" it called, and Leo laughed.
He laughed hard and long, especially when more slowpoke came to join him in rolling in the mud, a curious display, he was sure. He could only imagine how it would look to any passersby to see a naked boy slathering himself with mud while slowpoke rolled all around him. And that thought was nothing short of hilarious, so Leo laughed deeply and fully for the first time since he had arrived here.
Leo crouched low to the ground, a hefty stick held loosely in one hand, and his prey in sight. He crept forward, careful not to step on any breakable twigs, and trying not to rustle the dead grass around him too much. It wasn't very tall, maybe ankle height brown and green grass, but it did make a lot of noise if brushed against. And unfortunately, the rattata he was stalking seemed to have sensed something was up.
The purple rat paused in its scrabbling in the dirt to sniff the air and Leo froze, casting his eyes downward ever so slightly because the face was the most easily recognizable part of the body. Sweat beaded on Leo's forehead as he waited, stock still in an awkward position with the sun beating down on him from above. After a second of holding his breath Leo looked up, adrenaline surging through his veins when he saw that the rattata had turned its back to him – and it was in range. Carefully Leo pulled back his arm, fingers clenching around the smooth grooves he had carved into the stick.
His heart hammered in his ears, his blood roared, and his muscles surged as he hurled his stick towards his prey. The stick arced, spinning beautifully through the air at the unmoving rattata only to sail right over its head and clatter against the ground, startling the rattata so much it shot a foot in the air and scrambled off into the brush and safety. Leo slumped in defeat, standing up and cursing at his aim. He was so close too. And at least his stalking skills were better than his tracking and trapping skills were. Those were…abysmal, to say the least. His tracking could be remedied with practice, but he wasn't seeing much hope for trapping at the moment.
"Not that I ever got much practice with traps," Leo grumbled to himself, striding over to his designated throwing stick. The occasional sharp rock or thorn poked into the bare soles of his feet, but Leo persevered. He wanted to toughen his feet up, in case he lost his shoes. That, and really, being naked and covered in mud wasn't really the same if he was wearing shoes. If he was going to play the part of the savage wild-man, he might as well really look the part, right?
Angry chittering drew Leo's attention, his gaze falling upon the rattata he had missed. It crouched not far in the budding brush to Leo's right, its fur blending in rather well with the shadows and densely packed branches, its overlarge teeth gnashing at Leo angrily. Leo narrowed his eyes at the creature. Did it really want to play that game? Fine. He'd play that game.
Leo dropped his stick and picked up a hefty rock, hurling it at the rattata and missing it by inches, mostly because it dodged out of the way and continued to chitter at him, pacing back and forth.
"You little – you're taunting me, aren't you?" Leo demanded, picking up his stick. "Fine, let's go buddy boy," he said, advancing towards the brush. The rattata retreated further into the bush, but still chittered at Leo. For a brief moment, Leo considered pushing into the brush. It was taller than he was, with dense, albeit thin branches that would poke and prod him to no end. It would be difficult, but was getting the rattata worth it…? He poked experimentally at the bush, pressing against it and testing its resistance.
With blinding speed the rattata darted forward, white light sparking off its little rat paws. Leo yelped and jumped backwards in surprise, his quick reaction the only thing that saved him from the loud snap! Of the rattata's jaws slamming shut where his feet had been but moments before. Leo's eyes widened and he hyper-focused, all thought fleeing his mind in lieu of one reaction – fight.
"Yaaaah!" Leo cried, kicking at the rattata, who scrambled away and back into the bush, still chattering angrily. Leo scowled at it and backpedaled away, locking himself into a stare down with the little creature. The rat gnashed its teeth one more time, its curled tail waving back and forth, and Leo decided then and there that it wasn't worth it to continue this fight. He sighed and turned away, trudging back to his temporary home next to the lake, glancing down at his throwing stick. He needed a better hunting method if traps were out, and his aim sucked. It would be great if he could make a bow, but he had no idea where to even start there…But, Leo thought, looking down at his stick as he sorted through his memories. I might be able to get the next best thing. All I need is to figure out how to make cordage.
It took Leo three days to finally figure out the proper method of making cord or rope from plant fibers, and even then it wasn't perfect. Dead grasses seemed to work the best for his purposes, but he still thought he was missing a step or two somewhere – he was thinking he might have to figure out how to separate the fibers themselves from the plants. How he would go about this he didn't exactly know, but that was a step for another day. Mainly because he had found a way to circumvent the need for cordage for the moment, a rather simple solution that had him feeling a little stupid. But for now he had a working prototype weapon to test out.
Leo gripped the short, stiff length of wood with one hand, his index finger stretching up to hold a longer, more flexible length against a sharpened nub on the end of the short branch. The longer piece of wood he had sharpened to a fine point and hardened in the fire, and was aimed into the wide open meadow Leo currently stood on the edge of.
"Atlatl test one, let's see how this thing works," Leo said to no one in particular. He did a little hop-skip step and threw his arm forward like he was throwing a baseball, flicking the shorter length of wood as hard as he could, and sending his thin, impromptu "spear" through the air. Leo whistled as he watched it fly, going at least fifty feet before embedding itself in the ground. He glanced appreciatively at the base of his weapon, weighing it in one hand. "That went better than expected. I've got distance, now I just need to focus on how much power I'm getting, and my accuracy,"
That, however, would just take practice. And, the way Leo saw it, he would be getting a lot of practice. Mostly because he was dumb, and hadn't realized what time of year it was when it was quite literally staring him in the face.
He tried hard not to acknowledge the budding flowers his spear – or dart, whatever it was called – had landed next to, pulling the ammunition out of the ground and looking at the sky. The flowers hadn't fully budded yet, not all of them, at least, which meant this was early to late spring. Even the bush that the rattata had hid in wasn't fully bloomed yet, and for that, Leo felt like a right idiot. Here he was feeling all smart and proud for remembering about the atlatl, the ancient precursor to the bow that was stupid easy to make in the wild, and for finding a rock suitable for the flint-and-steel method of fire making, when he couldn't even figure out what time of year it was based on freaking plant growth.
"Well, at least it keeps me humble," Leo told himself, shaking his head and running his hands through his hair. He let out a breath and looked around the meadow, eyes fixating themselves on a small patch of grass that was much shorter than the rest of the knee-high foliage. This meadow was one he frequented because he found out the longer, yellow grasses helped make decent rope, but that one spot always worried him. When he had investigated it a few days prior he had found evidence of ash and soot – which led him to think of a fire-type pokémon. It wasn't uniform enough to be a human's work, and there was no evidence of a camp that he could find, so the only reasonable solution was a fire type.
Which could be both good and bad. Mostly bad though, the majority of fire-type pokémon either seemed to live in volcanoes, or were predatory. Charizard, pyroar, and houndoom all came to mind. Leo shuddered and forced that idea out of his head. He hadn't run into any real predators yet, and he wasn't prepared for an up-close and personal encounter. Leo didn't like his chances of winning a fight against a flying, fire-breathing dragon, or a fire breathing dog.
"Don't get me wrong, it'd be so cool to see one, but let's keep them at a distance for now," Leo said to himself, swinging his atlatl spear, which was about half as tall as he was, around carelessly. A gust of wind roared through the trees, whipping the grasses to the side as the slapped at Leo's bare thigh. Pine needles fell from the trees and waves of green pollen followed suit, filling the air to the point it looked like a fire was raging somewhere. Leo sneezed and rubbed his nose, shielding his face as he looked up at the sky. The sun was really harsh, and all this walking around naked or covered in mud was starting to annoy him. He didn't want to get even more sunburned than he already was.
"Yep, it's time to make a hat," Leo decided. "And to put my clothes back on. Now it's getting a little silly," he said, and laughed to himself, turning on his heel and marching off towards his temporary camp, singing the tune of Joy to the World by Three Dog Night as loudly as he could. Today was a good day.
Leo crouched low in the bushes, eyes fixated on the truly magical sight before him. Two sunflora stood in a large, open meadow on the far end of the lake, surrounded by at least a half dozen bellossom that danced and spun around them, their little flower-petal dresses spinning around as they danced to the mystical music. An odd ringing sound rang through the meadow, accompanied by the soothing, almost flute-like sound of the grass whistles the sunflora were blowing on.
The bellossom laughed and twirled, jumping into the air as they danced about, the tinkling, ringing sounds only seeming to intensify as they did so. Petals floated through the air gaily, spinning and swirling around the musicians and their dancers, intense rays of sunlight beating down on the meadow like a beacon. They danced and swayed and even sang in small, lilting cries that somehow fit together perfectly with the tune, which in turn harmonized with the wind and the rustling of the grass and the groaning of trees. Leo found himself humming along and did nothing to resist the urge, swaying to the tune and drumming the soil with his fingers.
The beat picked up, the whistling of the sunflora sharpened, and the bellossom leapt into the air. Green light sprang forth on the ground, the grass growing visibly healthier and more wild beneath the bellossoms' feet. Then the beat slowed, and the bellossom ceased their erratic jumping, standing in place and swaying side-to-side, the petals that flew through the air slowing to a gentle drifting pattern, swirling around the meadow like a protective veil.
Leo doubted he'd ever forget this sight, and for the next hour that was all he did. Sit in the shadows, and watch the flowers dance.
That night, Leo did something he hadn't thought about doing since he landed here in this world. With his filleted magikarp dinner roasting on a flat rock over the fire, a ring of pine nuts and the potato-esque plants he had found around it as a garnish, Leo pulled out one of the many notebooks he had in his backpack and a mechanical pencil that had been in his pocket, and began to write a poem. It wasn't anything special really, he'd never gotten into poetry writing the way some of his fellow classmates had, mostly because he preferred to write stories over poetry, but he wasn't in the mood to write a story and watching the bellossom today had stirred something within him.
It was a strange, esoteric side of him that looked at the world in a lens of rose color and metaphor – the same one that had taken the bellossom and sunflora dance as a blessing and admired its beauty, but left whatever it might mean metaphorically alone because, quite frankly, to try and capture that sight into words was doing it an injustice.
So Leo wrote and rewrote and stared at the flames of his fire, at the dying light of the sun, and the slowpoke as they settled in to bed – funnily enough, the herd had taken to rolling in the mud just like he had taught them when he tried to camouflage himself. He watched, for a moment, one slowpoke as it wandered through the herd, nudging a fellow herd member every once in a while. Leo took inspiration from these sights and scratched away at the paper, putting his feelings to form.
After a few moments the smell of something burning reached his nose and Leo cursed, setting aside his pencil and scrambling to remove his dinner from the heat. The cooking rock he had used was longer than it was wide and was fairly thin, allowing for it to heat up well. That also meant he had "handles" to grab onto in the form of the excess rock that stuck out over the fire pit he had dug – propped up as it was on a "stand," in the form of two smaller, albeit squarish, rocks.
That didn't mean it wasn't hot though, and Leo cursed as he grabbed the sides, the heat very uncomfortable. The moment he set it down, away from the fire, Leo leapt to his feet and did a dance of pain, hopping about and waving his hands as if to cool them off.
"Ow, ow, ow that's hot," he hissed, clenching and unclenching his fists. Smoke rose from the nuts and potato-things as they lay on the rock, and Leo cursed his short attention span. Couldn't writing have waited until he was done with dinner? Of course not, he had to go and lose focus, and now his dinner was burned. Gingerly, Leo poked at the fish fillet to ensure it was done and, satisfied that it was, he popped a chunk of white fish meat into his mouth.
Unfortunately, the bottom of the fillet was burned. Fortunately, a little bit of burned food never hurt anyone, and though it wasn't a good taste at least it was a different flavor than the rather bland, basic taste of a magikarp fillet. Muttering to himself Leo settled back down, peeling his food off of his impromptu plate and looking back out over at the slowpoke herd. The sun had set by now and the darkness of the night settled, and thanks to the light from the fire Leo's night vision hadn't adjusted yet. But he could still see the lumps that formed the slowpoke herd, and that same slowpoke that had been wandering about earlier, finishing a complete circuit before settling in itself.
Leo hummed and polished off his meal, flipping his cooking rock upside down over the fire to clean off whatever had stuck to it and settling back contentedly against a tree. The small grove he had settled his camp in was enough to keep the wind and rain off, but if the slowpoke decided to stick around this lake for a while then he'd need to find something more permanent.
When his eyelids began to droop and the fire began to die, Leo stood and stretched, determined not to sleep yet. If he fell asleep this early then he'd wake up well before dawn, so, to keep himself awake for a little longer yet Leo headed away from his fire and toward the lake.
Somewhere in the distance a hoothoot hooted (and wasn't that a funny phrase) as Leo came to stop next to the shoreline, hands in the pockets of his jeans, his eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness. The moon was a half-crescent, and the myriad of stars above shone with such brilliance Leo's breath was taken away even after having seen the same sight practically every night since he arrived here. There were so many stars, it made even the mountains of his home seem polluted. It wasn't even hard to pick out the "milky way," or whatever galaxy this was, that stretched as a band of densely gleaming stars in the sky.
The hoothoot hooted again somewhere to Leo's right, followed by a sharp flapping of wings that carried the round-ish bird from the tree it had been in into the sky, visible only as a black blob that quickly vanished. After a few more minutes, life returned to the forest as the nocturnal creatures came fully to life – though it was still far calmer than any point during the day. Leo yawned and shrugged off the melancholy he'd been feeling.
Maybe he would go to bed soon. Staying awake wasn't doing him any good, he was just thinking too much.
"Night, slowpoke," Leo murmured, turning his back to the lake.
A blinding white flash suddenly lit up the night sky, illuminating the forest for miles around. Leo whirled back around as a thunderous roar buffeted him, his eyes catching the last fleeting glimpse of a beam of white light streaking off into the sky. A metallic shriek rang through the air, stilling the forest and sending fearful chills down Leo's spine. He remained perfectly still as he stared in the direction of the flash, the only sound he heard being the hammering of his heart and the swiftness of his breath. Around him the slowpoke stirred, raising their heads to look at the direction of the disturbance. Time stretched on, but no further noise was made, and after fifteen minutes of silence the forest began to move again. Bugs buzzed about, and Leo even spotted a few zubat flying about in the open air, hunting for food.
The slowpoke grunted and laid back down, closing their eyes and falling into a slumber, which prompted Leo to move back over to the embers of his fire and sit down next to his "bed," a pile of leaves and pine needles. He sat there for a long time before he lay down, watching the direction the beam of light had come from. Only one other creature seemed to care about it anymore; a slowpoke, whose head remained raised and looking off into the distance even as its brethren slept.
"You too, huh, buddy?" Leo asked it in a whisper, more talking to himself than the slowpoke. "Looks like I won't be getting much sleep tonight," he murmured, rolling onto his back. He wondered what caused that, and what the shriek was, as he lay there. A small part of him wanted to go check out what it was, to find out what caused all that, while the rest of him screamed danger.
Leo sighed, already knowing which part of himself would win the contest of wills.
"Looks like I'm going tracking tomorrow," he muttered, and closed his eyes.
Leo dusted his fingers along the divot in the ground, eyes easily picking up the features of the track. Whatever had left this was incredibly heavy and large, as the three-toed track sunk deep into the soil. Amazingly though, it doesn't seem to leave much trace on the surroundings, Leo thought, glancing around the forest. True, the trees here weren't very densely packed, and there weren't many bushes or anything for the creature to smash with its feet, but there weren't even any broken branches or gnawed on grass that could suggest what kind of creature left this.
Leo's first thought was a golem – he'd seen the unevolved forms around so he knew graveller and geodude were in the area, but he also wasn't certain that golem could use what he could only assume to be a hyper beam. Maybe an ursaring? He knew what bear tracks looked like, and this wasn't a bear, but then again maybe the pokémon ursaring had different tracks than what Leo was used to seeing from bears. Standing up, Leo grabbed his atlatl and continued forward, the extra darts he had crafted held in his other hand.
He moved as silently as he could, following the clear trail the monster had left in its wake and keeping his eyes and ears open. Most importantly he was listening to the noise of the forest, and the sound of the bugs. Right now flies buzzed, grasshoppers chirped, and the forest was just alive. If all that fell silent, then it meant there was something else in the woods, something dangerous. But things were good now, and Leo could afford to relax a little.
He followed the tracks for at least a mile, long enough for him to begin to doubt that he was, in fact, following the right trail, when he came across the scar of the short battle he had only seen the after effects of. A hole had been blasted through the trees at an upward angle, branches and even entire tree trunks snapped in half from the force of whatever hit it. Leo whistled as he surveyed the damage. The beam hadn't just blown through a few of the trees, it had seemingly evaporated entire chunks of what had been in the way. One tree in particular had an almost perfectly round, semi-circular hole on the side of its trunk. It was a miracle it was even standing upright.
Pausing to examine the tracks, Leo situated himself where he thoughts the creature had positioned itself to fire its attack. Both feet were planted firmly on the ground parallel to each other, evidenced by the divots about three feet apart in the ground, and what Leo could only assume was a tail had slammed against the ground far behind it. A small shrub was even crushed by it.
"What were you shooting at?" Leo murmured, squinting in the direction the beam had been fired. Frowning, Leo moved forward, looking at the sky, the ground, the trees, anything that might give him a hint. It surprisingly didn't take him long, as he spotted what he was looking for as it lay in a bush, shining in the sunlight Leo furrowed his brows in confusion as he knelt and plucked the large, oblong metal…thing, out of the bush.
It was surprisingly light and was patterned much like a feather would be, with a long, thin tube running along the spine of the curved object, providing support. The edges were even fairly thin, and though it had the same sort of multifaceted texture as a normal feather, despite its size, it was solid and made entirely of metal. Realization dawned upon Leo as he hefted the object in one hand, fitting the stalk of it in his palm. This was a feather, a metal feather. Which left two options for what could have left it – either a skarmory or a corviknight, the only two steel and flying type pokémon Leo could remember. But he doubted it was a corviknight, this feather was polished to a high sheen and the edges were sharp – not razor sharp, no, in that respect it was duller than his knife, but it still held a noticeable edge. He was pretty certain corviknight didn't have sharp feathers, and had a darker coloration.
"Then what picked a fight with a skarmory?" Leo mused, swinging the feather experimentally. It was long, at least three feet long and too large for his small body, and had a few dents in it, but it was a solid weapon. He'd find a use for it somehow. He was pretty sure the lore of skarmory indicated their feathers could be used as swords, which Leo could see why, though he wouldn't be using it as such. Unless the wielder was very skilled it wasn't likely a sword would do a lot of good against a powerful wild pokémon.
Leo's immediate instinct was to go back to tracking, but something told him to have a further look around, see if he could find any more feathers. They would be incredibly useful, he was sure, and after a few minutes of searching Leo had found two more feathers. Well, more like a small, palm sized shard of one and a slightly longer, twisted and bent feather. Shoving both of his smaller finds in his backpack, as well as his atlatl, the ends of the darts sticking out of the pack, Leo headed back towards the tracks and continued to follow his prey, toying with his newest find.
He was so distracted by the large feather, in fact, that he almost missed the quieting of the forest before it was too late. Bugs still buzzed in the distance, and pidgey cried somewhere out to his left, but in his immediate vicinity it was dead silent. Leo froze and swiveled his head, adrenaline spiking through his veins as he scaned the trees above and the forest around him. To his left was a large outcropping of rocks, patches of light green moss growing on the white boulders, while to his front and his right the forest grew denstly together and headed downhill – small, shrub-like plants with light yellow leaves covering the ground. Nothing moved and neither did Leo for a moment, when he slowly began to back up, heading the way he came.
A scraping sound to his left, from the direction of the rock outcropping, had Leo freezing in his tracks, eyes widening as he saw the stones move. Boulders that easily weighed more than a few tons were rolled to the side as a tyranitar, in all its glory, revealed itself. It stretched to its full height of over seven feet, craning its neck to look at the sky and unleashing a yawn that revealed four sharp fangs and rows of dull, flat teeth. Yet as Leo stared down its ominously black gullet, he found himself eerily calm. If he did anything rash he could very well earn the creature's ire, so all he could do was stand there, and pray it paid him no mind.
The tyranitar's faded green hide was littered with cracks and scars, tips of the spikes that adorned its spine shattered or broken off completely, while its tail thrashed to and fro, casually sliding the boulders in its way with its immense strength. Leo could not help but admire the beauty of the creature. It did not look young – its hide was far too faded and scarred for what could reasonably be considered young (not that he knew how evolution worked here, this was all conjecture), but its regal might was not to be denied.
Stone ground on stone as the tyranitar shook itself, small pebbles falling from its back and head when, quite suddenly, it finally caught sight of Leo. It didn't make a move, and Leo found time stretching as he and the tyranitar just looked at each other, its large charcoal colored iris just…looking at him. Slowly, Leo laid his skarmory feather on the ground, and held up his hands.
"I mean no harm," he said softly, calmly. The tyranitar regarded him for a moment, then snorted and shook of its entire body again, rock dust flying into the air, before lumbering off up the hill to the left, each footstep thudding against the ground.
Leo didn't move until well after the tyranitar had left and the sounds of the forest returned to the area. In fact, he didn't move at all until his legs involuntarily gave out, and the sudden tenseness of the situation he had just survived washed over him. So that was a tyranitar, a pseudo-legendary. Leo laughed shakily, licking his lips and flopping onto his back, staring at the sky and well aware of the stupid grin on his face. His pack made the action of lying on his back very uncomfortable, but he couldn't find it in him to care.
"I think," Leo muttered, "I'm going to need a change of pants,"
Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
-- Power
stone