At the southern edge of Route 104 stood a pier. A long one, stretching far into the ocean. Lined with boats along its docks. Although, to call them simple boats would be a disservice to the grandeur those vessels possessed. Rather, most were akin to mini yachts. As fit for living as they were for perusing the seas.
A Machamp laid on the surface of one, so tanned it could've been mistaken as a shiny at a glance. There, on the wooden deck, squeaky clean, its equally tanned trainer laid. Always beside his partner. Reading a book while soaking in the sun.
On another, a Quagsire overlooked the ocean. A big smile painted on its face, that wouldn't have shifted for the world. Its brain rendered itself unaware of the trials and tribulations that passed. Reacting with the same playful optimism, no matter what happened. And, its trainer wouldn't have it any other way. Even as the old man's line revealed no fish, Quagsire remained looking at him, big dopey smile with its tongue sticking out. The man simply laughed, patting his Quagsire on the head, then casting his line out onto the ocean once more.
Similar stories repeated as you walked along the wooden pier. Trainers laughing, Pokemon frolicking or swimming around in the choppy ocean. It should've been a pristine location. Yet, one exception always broke the rule.
That exception laid at the very edge of the pier. Compared to the other boats, this vessel was modest at best. Perhaps it had rivalled those other yachts once. But, in its elder years, it began to show a sharp decline of which no one could do anything about. The only provided shade under the hard top was that of the helm. Everywhere else had been scorched with the rays of the sun, washing out the white paint slathered onto every surface of the boat.
A flock of Wingull gathered in the air, soaring above the dock, eagerly cawing out for its friends to join in the flock. Fellow Wingulls. Or, a few of their evolved forms. Even one of their unusually shaded green friends had come to join along. The stranded Wingulls who had taken refuge on one of the many boats heeded the call of the flock. They soared, wings hollow and light, reaching into the sky. Then, they reached the scorched boat.
A call heeded the Pelipper at the bow. But, she didn't respond.
The bird rested. Overlooking the crashing ocean, alone, no trainer to guide it. No moves to command it thus. All forgotten, of a time long past. Another call came from above. Louder, and screechy. An attempt to finally break the Pelipper's gaze from the ocean. But, it seemed nothing worked. No matter if they got closer, screamed louder, shot out Water Guns to startle her. Nothing broke this Pelipper's gaze.
The flock gave up. They'd tried every time they passed by. But, nothing ever happened. So, with a confident cry, not loud enough to be mistaken as a continued form of pestering, the group headed for territories unknown. The Pelipper did not glance at them once. She heard the beating wings. And, that was all that was needed. Now, she could be left alone, in the shackles she had placed around her own wings.
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Staying and waiting, even when nothing seemed to happen. The crashing of the ocean remained the only constant. The only action, constantly moving. Frothing waves, bashing against the worn ship. The salty liquid splashed up the hull, gently stinging against the seagull's coat. Yet, her gaze remained fixed. Only upon the ocean. Staying. Waiting.
What use did she have in the world, anyways? What moves she could use at some point were forgotten. Any age her wings had seen, only accelerated by years of inaction. A diet of almost nothing. The bare minimum to stay surviving. No pack would want her. Pelipper wanted no pack. No flock to call a home. Home was this boat. And, it'd sooner die than aban-
Hello, again.
Pelipper froze. Her gaze tightened. Not looking back, staring only forward. The waves frothed, white bubbles foaming over the freezing water. Anything but the voice that beckoned behind. Taunting Pelipper. It didn't exist.
You're feeling lost, aren't you lass?
A taunt. That's all it was. A taunt, beckoning the seagull to glance upon nothing. To have a heavy burden weigh even heavier on her body. To keep her shackles tied even tighter. Maybe, if she stayed here, bided her time, and resisted the urge. Maybe, just maybe, she'd finally be free.
You don't realize. You're already free.
Yet, the voice is so calm. Tempting. Soothing to hear. How can your heart race, yet be put at ease? The presence of the voice alarmed. It shouldn't have been there. Unnatural. Not of this world. Yet, the tone with which he spoke. Just as the bird remembered. When he stroked her feathers. Took her places beyond even her dreams. Fed her the best she could ever eat. Those times had passed. Yet...
You still long for that of the past.
You wait for it on this boat.
But, it is not found here, darling.
Salty tears pricked at her eyes. They threatened to stream down her face. Then, crash into the sea below. A typhoon would spawn if she allowed herself to cry. That's what the Pelipper told herself. She couldn't break down. Show weakness now. She'd done better than before. Whenever his voice came to taunt her. So close to getting this over with. Loosening the shackles placed on its mind.
I cannot change your mind.
I can only hope to see you move on.
But, for what it's worth...
Please. Don't.
I love you.
My darling, Peeko.
Peeko turned.
Tears burned at her eyes. Peeko couldn't see. But, even if she could, she knew he wasn't there. Briney was gone. He'd been gone for so long. She couldn't remember the time that had passed. But, Peeko didn't care about any of that.
I just want you back.
Tears continued to flood down as the Pelipper turned back. Facing the ocean once more.
The waves had went still. The vastness of the ocean spread out ahead. All to be claimed, with who knows what living out there. Life bubbling underneath the clear ocean. Winged life flying overhead. Gorgeous. Vibrant.
Yet, nothing is there.
And I don't think there ever will be.
