Author's Note:
Please read before proceeding.
This is a more casual Pokefic that I have been working on on the side. Each chapter is about double the length of a standard Into the Unown chapter.
The story itself takes place in the sa universe as ItU and adult Nina will make an appearance. But not to worry, there will be minimal spoilers.
For now, there are 11 chapters in total that I will be releasing in lieu of the usual side stories that I put out during my break. With this initial release being a 3 chapter dump.
Also, warning for those who are using TTS; corrupted text will be used extensively in this story. So sorry in advance.
The story itself was actually written as a prize for one of my Flareons, @Dismas, who won a giveaway to have write any story, be they fanfic or original, to their specification.
They opted for another Pokefic and the prompts they gave was a Mimikyu starter and a MC nad Junia. The rest of the details were up to my discretion. So I chose to set the story in Unova since I had no plans to explore that region in depth with Nina.
***
Chapter 1: The Creaker
Miltank manure slled like the worst combination of damp hay, stale milk and rotten eggs.
“Urgh.” Junia groaned as she shoved the last shovelful of the excrent onto her cart, before stabbing the tool into the ground and leaning against it for a break.
“Moooo~”
“Oh shush, you. I’ve about had it with you lot today.” There was a southern Unovan twang to the girl’s voice, proof of her rural origins from the middle of bumfuck nowhere.
More specifically, an off-route settlent of farms and ranches situated between the empty borders of the Castelian Desert and the sprawling Lostlorn Forest.
“Moooo~” The Miltank’s response? A hardy lick to Junia’s face, eliciting hapless giggles from the girl.
“Oh quit it. Let a girl vent, won’t you?” She sighed. “Of all the things I could be doing with my life…”
Junia yearned for adventure, to go out there and see the wider world. But coming from a family of impoverished farrs, that was easier said than done. A journey required funds and it was all that her family could do to keep themselves afloat and their Pokemon fed.
“Those stingy old grumps…” Junia’s parents were paying the precocious teenager for her work, of course, which brought about another set of problems. Mainly, who would replace her labour when she inevitably saved up enough for her journey and left the farm.
Settlent 16 — yes, that was the na of their settlent, how glamorous — was barely a populous place. The most they had going for them was a little rest stop by Route 16 with a dinky little Pokemart, a diner and a little barber shop that moonlights as a bar at night. There wasn’t even a Pokemon Center in sight!
And even then, the rest stop was still a good 3 hours away by foot if one wasn’t taking a Ride Pokemon. Hardly the sort of hip and trendy hangout that Junia and the rest of the Sett-16 kids yearned for.
It was no wonder most of them left. If Junia could, she would too. But after seeing a handful of the older kids co crawling back in tears with empty pockets, Junia wisened up enough to at least bide her ti until her little Gimmighoul chest was full enough.
“Moooo…!”
“I know, I know… Enough grumbling, ti to get cleaned up ‘fore I’m late for school.” The term ‘school’ was generous, Junia and her peers were all educated by the local pastor in the settlent’s only church — bless Arceus and their divine light and all that.
With a reluctant oomph, Junia gathered up her tools, removed her gloves and coaxed her family’s Bouffalant into motion, the cart full of manure creaking as it dragged. What happened to the cargo after it was unloaded into their outhouse was none of Junia’s business. More than likely, her dad’ll keep a portion of it for fertilizer while the rest would be sold to the roaming caravans where they would then be transported to Nimbasa City to be converted into biofuel.
“Nghh…!” After unhitching the Bouffalant and freeing him from duty, Junia stretched out her muscles as she trudged back to her family ho, only to imdiately light up at the sight of a flaming Rapidash parked outside its threshold.
“Hehehe…” The girl giggled and pranced over to caress the majestic steed, the Rapidash’s snout crinkling a little at the sll of Miltank on the girl. “Sorry ‘bout that, Lonestar, just got done with my chores. Did the sheriff co visitin’?” Because there was only a single person in the whole of Sett-16 who had such a fancy, star-studded saddle on their Ride.
“RaAaAaA~” The Rapidash bobbed his head up and down as he gestured towards her family’s porch where her dad was stood conversing with a flamboyant looking man.
“Howdy there, sheriff! What’s shakin’?”
“Junia! If it ain’t my favorite lil’ rascal. Nah, I was just telling your pa here about the attack on ol’ Mac’s farm last night.” The sheriff’s pearly whites glead as he reached over to rustle the girl’s hair, much to her consternation.
Junia pouted and shrunk away from the assault on her hair — she did not want to have to redo her braids. “Wha’dya an attack?”
“The Creaker’s back, kiddo.” Carl, Junia’s father, chid. “Ol’ Mac’s herd were so scared they barely slept a wink — lost a ton of weight. They even found Mac’s Herdier all passed out in the fields, foaming at the mouth.” The man chuckled. “The old growler must’ve given it everything he got to protect the Pokemon, bless his soul…”
Junia froze, her heart pounding against her chest. “B-But Herdier’s fine, right?”
The sheriff smiled and gave the girl a gentler pat. “Don’t worry kiddo, Herdier was just fainted. I rushed him over to Nimbasa the mont Missus Mac ca calling.”
Junia returned with a stiff nod. “T-That’s good to hear. I an, the Creaker never hurt nobody, right? The Pokemon just get scared ‘cause of the noise they make. M-Maybe they’re just a lost Pokemon trying to make friends…?”
The two n shared a glance… Then bursted out laughing at the girl’s response.
“Haha! Oh Junny… I think the Creaker musta scared you silly. How could you say such a thing?” Carl chided.
The sheriff chortled at the girl’s naivete. “The Creaker’s affecting our livelihoods, squirt. Can’t milk a Miltank if they’re all skinny from fright. But no matter, I went and consulted the League while I was in the city. Said they’d send an expert over in a couple’o days — so hotshot Professor visitin’ on a journey.”
The man then added that the reason why he ca by was because he had hoped that Carl’s family would house the traveller when they arrived. Since they had a couple of spare rooms and all.
Junia’s dad scoffed. “Hmph! Darn city-slicker thinkin’ they can co into our land and tell us our business!”
The sheriff smirked. “I think you’ll like this one, Carl. They say she’s quite the looker, moonlights as so sorta celebrity supermodel on the side.”
Carl faltered and let out an awkward little cough. “Well I guess that does take the edge off things. If so hoity-toity Professor’s gonna co and nag at us, might as well have sumthin’ to look at, right?”
The two n broke out into uncouth laughter while Junia just rolled her eyes and walked past the duo into her house, her steps hurried. “Gonna have to sneak out tonight and warn him… But before that, gotta gather so supplies.”
Junia’s parents and the rest of the community would likely be on high alert. But she had no choice, she couldn’t let them catch her friend. “Who knows what they would do to him…” She had seen enough Pokeforum posts to know that troublemaking Pokemon either got rounded up into the nearest Black Zone or got locked up to be experinted on. “And for the especially rowdy ones…” The girl shuddered.
***
“Junia!”
The freshly showered girl stepped out the door to the sight of a boy and a girl riding atop a Bouffalant and waving at her.
“Clyde! Bonnie!” Junia bead and ran over to her friends, grabbing hold of Bonnie’s extended hand as she swung herself onto the Bouffalant’ back. “Thanks for the pickup!”
“Don’t ntion it. But you’re running a lil’ late today, Jun. Thought we’d have to leave without you,” said Clyde as he spurred his Bouffalant into a run.
Even though they called themselves a settlent, in reality, there was a lot of empty space between each farmhouse because of their sprawling fields. So trying to get to the church from Junia’s place would still take a good ten minutes by Ride Pokemon, and that was the bovine running at full tilt.
But as it just so happened, Junia, Bonnie and Clyde’s houses were along the sa path with Clyde’s family being the furthest. Combine that with the fact that they were pretty much the sa age resulted in a ritual where the gentlemanly farmboy found himself acting as the chauffeur for their little friend group.
“Yeah, sorry ‘bout that. Sheriff stopped by for a chat and I lost track of ti.”
Bonnie imdiately lit up at the gossip. “Oooo~ Is it about the Creaker? I heard Uncle Mac’s place got hit last night.”
Junia groaned. Bonnie was their resident gossip queen, so no doubt the whole desert’s gonna catch wind of the incident soon enough. “Urgh. Yeah… BUT! Nobody got hurt! The Miltanks lost a bit of sleep is all.”
“But Junny, I heard they found the corpse of Uncle Mac’s Herdier in the fields… Poor Hank…”
Junia rolled her eyes and gave her friend an admonishing smack on the back. “Don’t go writin’ him off all willy-nilly, girl! Hank’s fine! Sheriff said he was just fainted — rushed him over to a Pokemon Center as soon as they found him.”
“Oh.” Bonnie pouted, almost disappointingly. But such was life in the boonies. The residents were so devoid of excitent in their daily lives that even the most trivial of news was enough to whip everyone into a frenzy.
The three teens eventually arrived at the church, a rustic little white bricked construct, golden arch wheel — Arceus’ emblem — adorned the front, gleaming under sunlight and pretty much the only thing that looked like it had any amount of money, thought and care sunk into its make.
The trio dismounted and gave the Bouffalant grateful scratches under his afro mane as Clyde produced a Berry from his pockets to reward the bovine. They then made their way into the church while Bouffalant trotted back to the farm — the bovine Pokemon was smart enough to know when to co back for their return trip ho.
Inside the church was a familiar enough sight; drab and dreary with pews neatly arranged in rows. There was no desk. Instead, the children had to make do with wooden boards that they procured at the entrance to hold their stationery in place.
And speaking of the children, the occupants of the church school was a hodge-podge of kids barely of age and teens ranging anywhere from eleven to eighteen — the older ones being ‘true’ settlers who had long given up their dreams of seeing the wider world and resigned themselves to take over their parent’s farms. Junia vowed that she would never allow herself to fall that low.
“Alright everyone, settle down.” The doors shuddered close and the pastor declared, after seeing that the last of his students had finally arrived. “As usual, we’ll start with prayers. Then, you’ll all split into your age groups and continue work on the handouts I gave you last ti.”
But none of the kids were paying attention. Particularly when Bonnie went to work in loudly spreading the news pertaining to the return of the dreaded Creaker, complete with her usual brand of embellishnts and hyperbole, of course.
Junia just sighed and sat down on her usual spot. The pastor may not look like he cared, but the man did take note, and those who misbehaved in class were sure to earn a lengthy lecture and extra chores from their parents sowhere down the line. “Not to ntion, I can’t afford to be held back today since I gotta make a trip to the rest stop.”
***
“Hey Clyde, mind if I borrow Bouffalant? I wanna make a run to Gwen’s.”
“Ugh. Sure, Bonnie and I’ll just walk our way ho. No idea how long it’ll take to get all this paperwork done.”
Junia laughed. Predictably, Bonnie and all of the misbehaving children had been saddled with so extra work that needed to be completed before they could leave. While Junia and the rest of the more obedient kids were let off scot free after handing in their assignnts.
“Thanks, I’ll make sure to return him ‘fore dark.” Junia waved at her friends as she left the church, where a familiar looking Bouffalant was already waiting for her. “Hey buddy, sorry to trouble ya but I gotta make a quick run through the forest. Mind givin’ a Ride? Clyde’s already given his blessings.”
“BoOoOoOu~” The Bouffalant huffed, flaring his lips as he did, before stamping his hoof and throwing his horns back in affirmation.
“Hehehe… Thanks Bouffalant, you’re the best. I’ll make sure to grab ya so Berries while we’re there.” The girl climbed onto the Ride Pokemon and ran off towards the Lostlorn Forest where Route 16 lay.
An endless expanse of cornstalks and soy plants flitted past as the pair trotted along, their leaves still fresh and bounties bare. It was a bit too early in the year for the crops to bear fruit. Which was fortunate, because that ant Junia and Bouffalant could take a few shortcuts here and there, allowing them to reach the edge of the forest in just under twenty minutes.
Near the edge of Sett-16 and the Lostlorn Forest was a trail — one that was laid down by the local Pokemon Rangers when people first began settling here. Because where the Castelian Desert t the forest was a big stretch of grassy plains, perfect for grazing Miltank and with just enough nutrients in the soil to grow so drought resistant crops.
Not that water was really an issue since they could just have their resident Simipour dance a little for them to summon rain, but it was nice to not have to worry about irrigation. In fact, the settlers even made a whole ceremony out of it where they would all gather together to party during those Rain Dance days.
The trail itself was very well maintained, owing to the regular volunteer of settlers who took on the task on occasion, solid enough that it wouldn’t hurt Bouffalant’ feet even as they traversed the winding trees and the uneven ground.
All the while, various Pokemon could be seen blurring past Junia’s periphery; Mincinnos jumping between trees, a Liepard stalking the bushes, likely contemplating if it was worth ambushing the juicy looking Bouffalant or not, and a trio of Emolga gliding past Junia’s side.
The farmgirl giggled. Normally, she would have stopped to play around a little with the critters. But she simply did not have ti for such leisure today.
Lostlorn Forest was ancient. Hence, in the interest of preservation, the Rangers had fallen only the bare minimum of trees in establishing the trail, resulting in a snake-y and winding path, further adding to Junia’s travel ti.
Aside from the Pokemon, there was not much of note along the ride. The only exception being a lone trailer car parked out in the middle of an obscure clearing, within which lived an eccentric old woman who almost never engaged with Junia’s settlent. In fact, the girl had only really heard of the hermit from other settlers who frequented the trail and from Bonnie’s exaggerated tales.
Today, though, she did catch a glimpse of her; a decrepit old hunchback with an unruly head of white hair tied up in a loose tail. Junia called out to her in greeting, but the woman said nothing in response. So the two just passed each other by.
And after a good hour of riding, Junia and Bouffalant finally arrived at a lone building by the side of a ticulously paved road. Beside which lay a well-equipped campground already filled with tents and travellers.
It was a two day journey to get from Nimbasa City to the town bordering the Marvellous Bridge, so the rest stop served as a very important checkpoint for those who couldn’t Fly or Ride, or simply opted not to — cyclists, predominantly. Cycling was the great Unovan pasti after all, though Junia preferred riding Pokemon, personally.
“Phew. Got here ahead of ti. Thanks Bouffalant.”
“BoOoOoOu~”
The girl dismounted, gave her Ride an affectionate kiss and led him to a trough of tap water where Bouffalant could sate his thirst.
“Hang tight for , alright? Be back in a jiffy. Don’t go wandering off with the first person who offers you Berries.”
“FaAaAaA!” Bouffalant huffed. As if he was hungry enough, or even dumb enough, to do sothing like that.
Junia giggled and made her way to the front of the building, where she walked past the diner, resisting the delicious sll of coffee and bacon grease leaking from the seams, and into the blue storefront of a compact little Pokemart that looked more like the convenience stores that Junia saw on TV than a proper supermarket.
“Welco! Ah, Junia! Long ti no see. How’re your folks doing?” The woman who stood behind the cashier greeted the familiar looking farmgirl as she entered — a middle aged woman wearing the iconic blue and white striped uniform of the Pokemart with relatively mundane features and sporting a bombastic afro cut.
“Hey, Gwen, long ti no see! And yeah, ma and pa are fine, thanks for asking.”
“That’s good to know... So, what can I getcha?”
The girl shuffled her feet in front of the counter. “Erm well… I was looking for so supplies, feed that’ll last for a good few days without spoilin’.”
“Oh? You finally saved up enough to go on your journey? Congrats!”
Junia sputtered. “Err, no! That’s not it. I just… Err… Bonnie and Clyde wanna go on a camping trip this weekend — out in the forest. And I figured, I should probably prepare, y’know? Better safe than sorry and all that… The feed’ll be for Bouffalant!” She added hastily. “‘Cause, y’know, he’s a big eater and all. Gotta keep him strong to fend off any rascals, see?”
“Hmmm…” Gwen humd in suspicion but ultimately nodded in assent. “Alright, well, if that’s the case then you’re gonna want so Pokechow and Pokeblocks.” The woman gestured for Junia to follow.
“Boufallant’s a herbivore so this one’ll do just fine.” Gwen pointed towards a brand of kibble in shiny green packaging. “And Pokeblocks’ll generally last longer than fresh Berries.” She continued, handing a slender tube of patterned candies to the girl. “‘Cause I figured, you probably ain’t gonna have one of them fancy schmancy dinsional bags, yeah?”
Junia began nodding her head, only to finally register the question and shook it side to side instead.
Gwen chortled. “So yeah, Pokeblock’s good if you can’t afford supplents. Bit high in sugar, but what isn’t? Point is, they’re convenient and you don’t gotta have a whole freezer compartnt in your bag to keep em from rottin’.”
Junia nodded, thanked the woman, and grabbed a couple more of the tubes, just in case. She also grabbed a dium bag of the recomnded Pokechow. The girl actually didn’t know what her friend’s diet was. But so far, he had scarfed down all of what she had fed him without qualms, so there was a pretty good chance that he might be omnivorous.
“Alright, will that be all?” Gwen asked as she began to scan through all of Junia’s items.
“Oh, actually, I promised to get so fresh Berries for Boufallant. Hang on.” Junia chid and quickly went to grab a couple of Orans.
The woman nodded. “Yup. So that’ll be roundabout 120 Pokebucks in all — even applied a staff discount for ya.”
Junia winced as she tapped her Pokegear and watched the balance tick down — just because she lived in the boonies didn’t an they were devoid of technology! On the contrary, living in a settlent where there was not a single ATM in sight only made cashless transactions all the more sensible.
“Pokemon supplies really are expensive… No wonder everyone’s clamoring for sponsors.” Not that there’d be anyone around to sponsor her out in the sticks.
And funnily enough, that single pack of Pokechow that Junia bought could barely sustain a Pokemon the size of Bouffalant for more than a day in reality. Not that Junia was aware of that fact. Gwen simply chose not to comnt because she just assud the kid was up to no good again. Probably planning to go Pokemon catching behind her parents’ back.
“Take care of yourself, y’hear?” The matronly woman chided. “Don’t go adventuring without a Pokemon by your side. Lest ya wanna get mauled by a Liepard.”
Junia chuckled and stumbled her way out the door, arms filled with her most recent purchase. “Will do, Gwen. Thanks!”
***
When she got ho, Junia snuck around the house and hid her shopping in the barn — trying to carry all that stuff with her into her room was just asking for an interrogation.
And that night, when the sun had set and the Miltanks had gone to sleep, a precocious young teen climbed out of her bedroom window and crept into the fields, a sack full of Pokemon supplies on her back.
“Tumbleweed… Tumbleweeeed!” Junia whispered through gritted teeth. Trying to sneak her way over to their usual eting spot was harder than usual owing to the patrol of angry farrs trawling the area — an impromptu collective by the community to prevent yet another Creaker incident.
“M̴̠̬͉̣̓͘͘i̵͇̻͛̆̄m̷͉͖̯͎͔͊i̵͙͚̲̰͚̦̲̟̍̈̂̓̓̽͌̈̋ķ̴̼̺͇̹̯̩͇͉͐͝y̶̢̡͓̤̭͍̅̓̈́̾̅̔͐͘̕ụ̵̢̗̤̙̣̺̩̎̐͋̆͂̊͛̐͝ͅu̶͓̻̪̗̺͓̩̝̇̄͌̐̐̔̃͝û̷̡̩̞̫͙̞̭͚̿̓͂̈́̇̊́́̑ų̶̧̯̮̰̪̪̯̫͔̏͂̉̈́͊͊̂̈́̏͝ů̶͈̝͂͋͜͝͝u̶̢̧̮͖̞̣̻͍̦̾͊̚u̴͍̗̬̱̝̯͍͎͆͠ͅ.̵̧̣̮͚͔̑́̆͝ͅ.̴̛̦̭̭̰̝̬͉̹͇̰̿̍̈͌͊̾́̑̿.̷̧͙̫̙̩͎̫̫̠͂̓͑͘”
A nightmarish cry, followed by a series of spine chilling creaks… The corn stalks rustled as a shadow lood, dark and foreboding, creeping ever closer to the dainty young girl squatting precariously in the night all by her loneso.
Junia giggled. “There you are, you silly little scarecrow. C’mon out, I brought a lot of stuff for you today. Like, seriously, you have no idea how hard it was to sneak my way past all those foggies.”
The stalks parted and the darkness glead, to reveal the shambling corpse of a Pokedoll, torn and deflated, likely damaged in battle, and styled in the unholy likeness of a Pikachu with a crudely carved wooden mallet as its tail.
“K̶͉̙̓̓̋̎́y̴̧͙͈͕̞͒͆͒̈́̂ȗ̴̦͍͔̘̮̾͑͗͘u̸̪̺̱͎̰̿̈́̇͂u̵̢̻͎̰͋̈́͠ų̸̡̲̮̈̕u̴̥̬̩̘͊i̵̡̠̓̈̂̆ụ̵͒̐u̷͔̪͌͌.̴̢̢͈͕̭͐̑͐̈.̶̻̬̥̼͊͌̑.̵̮̬͙̹̩͐̂̍͘”
“Tumbleweed!” Junia, utterly unbothered by the creature's disheveled appearance, scooped him up into her embrace and began nuzzling against him, the coarse texture of the burlap sack that comprised his attire scratching against her face and producing creaks with every brush as the mummified thistle stuffed within the costu bent against her touch.
“M̸̛̦͕̻͎̩̬̭̒̊̍́͒̒̊͌̊i̸̢̠͇̬̞͖͚̠̇͂͛̀̎̃̈́̕͝͝m̸̠͇̥̻͖͔̺̀̔̿̈̈́͗̍͠i̵̤̳̯̟̩̒̅͆.̷̧̛͖͈͉̟̺͔̱̆.̵̮͕̖̣̌̓̓̄̈͋̾͋̎͜͜.̷̛̟̲̤̤̬̇̿̿́̇̉̉̾͜k̶̢͓͇̙͕̰̩̱͊̇̏̊̈́͐̽̽͘ͅẙ̵̡̮̝̰͎̳̪͚͂̌̀̍̄̃͑͝ủ̴̡̹̘̗͉͔͙̳͉͑͊̉ú̶̡̺̅u̷̧̧̅͌̄͠u̸̡̥͖̻̰̹̮̟̱̓͊̍́͂ͅu̵̯̤͈̺͙̪̳̟̺̘͂̽͊͌͊͝ü̶̥͈̤͙̖͔̫̯͛͛̾͜u̴͇̻̗͔̥͆̎͗̓́̒.̶͖̭͙͕̿̋̎͋̿̈́.̵̘̙̖̻͋͊.̴̤̎”
And in response, shadowy tendrils erged from the bottom of the creature — disfigured claws of pure darkness that wrapped around Junia’s delicate fra, engulfing her in a chilling embrace.
“I miss you too, Tumbleweed...” Junia allowed herself to indulge in her friend’s company for a while before pulling back with a stern look on her face. “But you done gone and ssed up!”
“K̶͚̩̝̘̩̼̙̤̙̊͂̒̽̎̃̂͗̄̒̊̉̕ÿ̸͔́͗̒u̵̧̱̪͛͆͒͘̕ȕ̷̢̧̡͓̫͕̈́̚u̸̦̲̾͂̇u̵̮̱̐̑̀̏͋̚͝ͅ?̵̲̟̪̉͌͛”
“They’re after you, Tumbleweed… Sheriff ain’t happy about what you did to ol’ Mac’s farm. You even sent Hank, the farm’s Herdier, into the Pokecenter!”
“K̶̨̤̫̦͑́́̕͠ỷ̸̠̬̬̤̦̹̺̈́̑̕u̴̢͇̙̍̀̿̓̂̏͜͠ȕ̴̗̱͖͍͝u̷̩̬̙̜̘̘͓̔u̴̬͆.̸͇̰̤̐̑͝.̸̟͖̰̥̤̔̿̿̀̏͠.̶̢̼̞̰̘̔”
“I know, Tumbleweed. You just wanna make friends... But they’re after you now — League’s sending so bigshot over to investigate.” Junia sniffled, tears welling from her eyes. “You’re my friend, Tumbleweed, I don’t wanna see you get taken away.” The girl pleaded.
“M̵̧̜̗͚͕̭͍̎̀̌̉̍͐͘i̷̹̤͚̫̊̈̓̒̎͒í̸̜̹̐͂̇͜ͅḯ̶͈̹̫̬̹̭̮̃̽͆̂̌͆͠.̶̬̙͓͕̤̤͓̍̍̀͌͛̓̀͠.̵̖̟͋͂̆̐͝ͅ.”
Junia then settled Tumbleweed on her lap and dragged over the sack of Pokemon food that she had purchased. “There should be enough supplies in here to keep you fed for a few days. So just stay put in your little hidey hole and don’t co out until I co get you, okay?”
Tumbleweed’s nest was an underground tunnel near the edge of the settlent, where the grassy plains ended and the sandy wasteland of the desert began. It was a relatively forsaken part of the settlent as the residents had no real reason to go that far usually, barring the harvest seasons when the tractors would roam.
“M̵̛̺͍̲̣͍̙̩̖͖̽̐̏̃͂̃̀͝͝ỉ̷̡͇̝̉̕m̴̨̼̞̻̬̀͂͑̀̇̄͝ǐ̴͔͖̬̖̪̲̦̎̏̎̉̾͗̽͐͜͠k̴̲̯̍ỵ̴͍̖̰͖̑͗̋̊̚ǘ̷̥͚͒͜͝ǘ̸͕͍̩̭͚̝̺̯̓͆̆̓̐̍̕ų̸̛̳̝̩͉̉̈͋͆̀̽̍̆͘͜.̸̨̦̺͍̖͈̳͍̎̔̊̈́̅̿͒̂.̴̡͓̖̣̩̮͎̝̦̘̒͒̆͋.̸̠̿̎”
“We’ll co up with a password — or not. I can just call you by your na. Until then, don’t you dare co out for anyone else, y’hear?”
“M̵̧̜̗͚͕̭͍̎̀̌̉̍͐͘i̷̹̤͚̫̊̈̓̒̎͒í̸̜̹̐͂̇͜ͅḯ̶͈̹̫̬̹̭̮̃̽͆̂̌͆͠.̶̬̙͓͕̤̤͓̍̍̀͌͛̓̀͠.̵̖̟͋͂̆̐͝ͅ.”
The scarecrow perched atop Tumbleweed creaked as its bulbous head collapsed forwards, to emulate an unsettling approximation of a nod in affirmation.
Junia smiled. “Great! I’ll co get you soon, okay? I promise.”
“M̵̛̺͍̲̣͍̙̩̖͖̽̐̏̃͂̃̀͝͝ỉ̷̡͇̝̉̕m̴̨̼̞̻̬̀͂͑̀̇̄͝ǐ̴͔͖̬̖̪̲̦̎̏̎̉̾͗̽͐͜͠k̴̲̯̍ỵ̴͍̖̰͖̑͗̋̊̚ǘ̷̥͚͒͜͝ǘ̸͕͍̩̭͚̝̺̯̓͆̆̓̐̍̕ų̸̛̳̝̩͉̉̈͋͆̀̽̍̆͘͜.̸̨̦̺͍̖͈̳͍̎̔̊̈́̅̿͒̂.̴̡͓̖̣̩̮͎̝̦̘̒͒̆͋.̸̠̿̎”
“I love you too, Tumbleweed…”
And so the pair basked in each other’s company until Junia determined that it was ti for her to get back, before her parents noticed her absence and called for a manhunt.
***
Author's note:
Here's a quick PSA.
If you have elderlies in your ho, please be mindful of scam calls.
AI is terrifying these days and can perfectly reproduce natural speech to a ridiculously convincing degree. Most people simply would not know unless they ask the right questions and force the AI agent to loop.
If ever in doubt, just tell them to hang up and consult a loved one imdiately.
Old people have the tendency to stick to the call and try to "figure out" the other party instead of straight up denying them.
This is very dangerous because so long as you remain engaged, there will always be an angle they can exploit.
If the call is truly important then you can always call back. There's no sense in engaging with a suspicious caller simply out of FOMO.
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