Pokemon is a copyright of Nintendo. Pokègirls and Pokèwomen come from the Pokewomon Forum at http://disc.server.com/Indices/169881.html.
"Wild Horses and Pokègirls" is the creation of Metroanime.

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Fossils (1-4)

Fossils - Jokette by Kelvin's Choice
Pokemon is a copyright of Nintendo. Pokègirls and Pokèwomen come from the Pokewomon Forum at http://disc.server.com/Indices/169881.html.
"Wild Horses and Pokègirls" is the creation of Metroanime.

C&C, MSTs are welcome E-mail: This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.

     The landing is soft. Although it or the launch was hard enough that I cannot recall it, or anything else beyond a moment of flight, horrific laughter and an impact that has me lying stunned for how long I don't know.

     The moan and spastic coughing from beneath me centers my scattered thoughts as I roll off an extremely busty Pokègirl. No mystery about my soft landing now, I think. Then my eyes light on the abbreviated green trimmed, purple suit, the white face and clashing green hair.

     Jokette! my mind dredges up from some recess, as well as a litany of the dangers of such a creature. But the blood on her mouth as she gasps for breath and her hands to her throat instinctive gesture of someone choking tells me I have little to fear, for the moment.

     Rather than concentrate on her, I check the surroundings. Over a dozen Pokègirls lie in various poses around me. Some bear the horrific grins, characteristic of Smilex poisoning, others have more conventional wounds. None are obviously breathing, none are moving, yet all are still warm.

     Recently killed, I realize, then consider how a single Jokette could have done all this. Or perhaps she jumped in when the fight was already underway, I think. Half of the six humans have T-shirts with a bright red 'R' emblazoned on them. Team Rocket or a clone, I think, Guessed right. Having made a survey, I return to the only living thing in the vicinity.

     The Jokette smiles and draws a deep breath, which instantly sets off a spasm of violent coughing. A greenish fluid from hidden wounds, soaks through the growing, red-stains on the purple suit jacket. She also writhes in pain from the attempt, just from the shoulders down. Realizing she is as harmless as one of her kind usually gets, I am left with a problem.

     The trachea is the life-threatening problem, I think, I know enough to do a tracheotomy, it won't be pretty, but it would save her life. But this is a Jokette, one of the 'kill on sight' Pokègirls. Do I save her, or do I let her die? Once I have the knife at her throat. I could start cutting.

     I sigh, look down at her, she's obviously in a lot of distress. Then she smiles and raises a hand . . . and nothing happens. She looks at her hand as if it had betrayed her.

     That also makes my decision, I think, I won't save you. But I won't leave you to die alone either. By whatever means I arrived, it seems I `broke` you worse than I thought.

     She smiles in a more friendly manner and extends her hand.

     Do I look like I'm that stupid? I don't ask, instead I grab her `wrist` and pull the phony hand with the joy buzzer free. The little box on the inner palm has a slide switch, at one end is 'Amusing' and the other 'Hilarious'. I can guess what that means, I think as I set it aside, Fine, two can play at that game. "A man buried dozens of mimes up to their necks along his property line to keep salesmen out," I tell her, "After all, no one wants to cross a mimefield."

     The Jokette tries to make a gagging sound, and ends up choking. I roll her on her side so she can get the blood out. I see more bloodstains on her head and across back.

     I really did a number on you when I landed, didn't I? I think, But I only feel a little bit sorry about that. When she stops choking, I roll her back onto her back. She grins at me, not the manic grin but another friendly one, and looks down her body.

     "You want a Taming?" I ask incredulously. She nods. She can't be that hard up . . . she can't feel anything down there, or she would have tried to stand, I think.

     I move down, palming a short stick as I move. Pulling her purple and green thong aside, I insert the stick and am rewarded with a loud 'SNAP'. I pull the stick out and the last few centimeters of the stick are sheared off. I hold up the stick so she can see, and her manic grin disappears.

     "Nobody's that stupid," I tell her. You would have been, at most Tamer's age, I remind myself, An advantage of being an old fart, it's a lot less important.

     "Okay, you asked for it. I'm going to kill you. In the most excruciating way possible," I tell her as I sit beside her, "At the beginning of World War 2, the United States Navy saw the need for a specially-designed anti-aircraft cruiser. They developed the Atlanta-class."

     "That was the second time Altantas has sunk beneath the WAVES."

     The Jokette is lying there, unmoving, staring up at the sky. I check her pulse, there's nothing.

     "Well, that joke has that effect on people," I tell her as I close her eyes.

     The Jokette is dead, and the immediate threat is over. Now what do I do? I wonder as I look around at the carnage and the sun dropping below the treeline. I've got some time, I think, It's summer, from the angle of the sun, so the twilight should be long. Besides, I've got plenty of supplies. I wonder if I have any help? I make a more thorough search of the ex-Rocketeers. I've got fewer qualms about stealing from them, I think, within moments I have my answer, Nothing but empty Pokèballs, except the satchel full of Pokèballs, which are probably spoils of their thefts. I don't want to mess with them . . . I don't know what kind of mess I'd unleash if I did. But all their personal balls are empty and while I recognize a Pokèdex, I can't get any of them to operate.

     The other group I search more carefully, Pokèballs first. "They deployed all theirs too," I said with disgust, "Six Tamers and a total of 15 Pokègirls. The Jokette wiped them all out. Isn't that happy news?" I don't want to start going through their wallets or other personal effects. Because the first thing I want to do is bury the bodies so they don't attract predators. Maybe the stench of the Smilex has kept them away, but that can't last, I think.

     As I stand, I spot a scrap of purple cloth. I wouldn't have seen it from my vantage point near the Jokette. "A belt," I realize as I approach, "A Pokèballs' belt." I removed the green-trimmed purple belt and the two Pokèballs, one gray, one red, from the pile of leaves. I glance back to the Jokette. "This wasn't happenstance," I tell the corpse, "You planned to waylay them, and you kept either reinforcements or a diversion to let you escape."

     I stare at the two balls and consider. "Well, I don't have to tell them the truth," I tell myself as I consider whether to release them. "I can always recall them. I hope."

     The girls seem to materialize out of beams of red light. Even though I know what to expect, it is still disconcerting. I wonder if I ever actually saw it, I think, What the heck? I thought most Pokègirls were a meter and a half to a meter three-quarters!

     The first girl dresses in a gray, shiny bodysuit that covers her from head to toe, like a wet suit, and either she was skinny as a rail and the suit camouflages that, or she had the wildest figure I'd ever seen. I could almost get both hands around her waist, but she's got tits like a pair of watermelons! If she's less than 180 centimeters tall, I'll eat my hat! Probably 190, I think, the other is equally striking, Nearly 230 centimeters, and athletic. She looks a little like a raccoon with the fur and the eye-mask. But I've never seen a bright red raccoon.

     The gray-colored one leaps over me and charges towards the fallen Jokette, the red raccoon covers her face and shakes her head.

     "Foul miscreant!" `Gray` shouts, pointing at the Jokette, "You have taken your own life, rather than face my wrath! HA HA HA HA -!" A fit of coughing cuts off further mad laughter.

     "Do you have anything to say?" I ask `Red`.

     "Not really," she says morosely, as she looks around the field. From her expression, she is realizing the situation has changed.

     "Do you know how to use a shovel?" I ask.

     "Do you want me to clobber Mantab over there?" she tries to joke, then frowns, "Or bury the . . . bodies."

     "Burial detail," I tell her, "I want to catalog anything on the bodies before we put them in the ground. What I can guess is that two groups were fighting when the 'foul miscreant' finished off both sides."

     "Two holes, one for the humans, one for the 'girls?" Red asks.

     "No, I want to be out of here quickly," I tell her, "Make it deep enough that something wandering by won't dig them up too easily. I have a feeling the cops are going to want to exhume the bodies later."

     "Got it," she says, "Got a shovel?"

     I retrieve two and give them to her. "Gray! Get over here and help!" The gray one continues to rant at the dead Jokette, embarrassing Red terribly. Why do I get the feeling that `gray` and the Jokette were a match made in Heaven? I ask myself as I walk over to drag gray to the work site.

     "Your majesty," I shout, then lower my voice, "Unless you want to be here when the scavengers arrive, we can bury you with your partner here. Or you can help give her a decent burial."

     "I am not 'gray', or 'your majesty'," she intones as she draws herself up to her full height.

     Which is quite impressive, I think, but refuse to quail, She might be dangerous, but she definitely will be if I show fear. "Then get over there and help," I tell her. Asking her name is not something I want to go through just now, I can see it 'secret identity', I think as I notice some details, The cowl and helmet, as well as the rest of the suit is her, not a costume. That means a Titto, Rubber or Stretchy Maid. From the shininess, I'd guess StretchyMaid. Okay, who I am is something of an expert on Pokègirls, although that doesn't tell me much. I'm too old to be a Watcher or Tamer.

     Gray marches over to Red, obviously trying to look majestic, and managing only looking comical.

     I sigh and begin going through the bodies, cataloging everything I take from each body, even the Pokègirls. I keep the money from the Team Rocket types, the others I just check for I.D. cards. Soon we are placing the bodies in the holes, covering them.

     "You two did well," I tell them as we pack up the camping gear, Red is already carrying four packs, including the one full of probably stolen Pokèballs. I carry one, Gray is carrying the last pack and the parcel of tents. We leave almost half a meter of dirt over the bodies and head out.

     The path has to lead to a town or a major thruway which would lead to a town or city, I think. Night falls before we can reach it, neither of the two Pokègirls had anything to say during the march. The tents go up, one for each of us.

     Again, no comment, I think as I settle into someone else's sleeping bag. I do listen to the other two, seeking some clue into their personalities. Is Gray really that loony, and is she dangerous? Red seems just embarrassed, but is that an act? I wonder as I lie there listening.

     Morning finds us on the road, the lights of a town serving as a beacon. A good reason to get up early and get on the road, I think as I eat the breakfast I prepared for the march, And again, no comments or complaints. Gray would occasionally skulk off into the woods, then return. Red simply shook her head at these detours. Although Gray doesn't hold us up, I think, She does whatever she does and catches up. It isn't disposing of her cargo, so I'll leave her alone.

     At lunchtime, we arrive in town and head directly towards the Police Station. That brings Gray to life, finally and unfortunately.

     "They cannot know my secret identity!" Gray manifests a cape and does a credible vampire impersonation as if the Police Station were a cross.

     "We can go to the Pokècenter first, then I'll go to the Police Station by myself," I tell them. The thing I really want to find out is who I am, I think, The police ought to be able to help with that. Gray relaxes, so does Red.

     The NurseJoy smiles as we enter. "I need these two checked out," I tell her, "I found them out in the forest, I don't think they're Feral."

     "Me, I'm sure of," Red says, "Her, I'm not sure of." Red indicated Gray.

     I nod to the NurseJoy. "I have to report some things to the police," I say as I take the pack with the I.D.'s and the presumably stolen Pokèballs. The Police Station is a typical small town sheriff station. First clue, I think as I see a large area map, the city of Darwin, Good Pokècenter, mostly a Tamer resupply point. Okay, how did I remember that? I can't remember my own name, but I know those details with such exactness.

     "Officer?" I hail the Growlie who sits at a desk, she is concentrating on something at the computer terminal.

     "Are you here in regards to a stolen Pokègirl?" she asks, vaguely bored.

     "You could say that," I tell her as I set the pack down and open the top, "You might want to check these."

     "Sheriff!" the Growlie calls as she pulls a light pen attached to the side of the computer. She begins scanning the balls as an Officer Jenny comes out of the back of the office. "Three hits, this gentleman brought in a pack of Pokèballs."

     The 'Jenny's smile is all business. "Would you like to explain?"

     "A pack of Tamers, some Team Rocket-types, ran into a Jokette, it got all of them," I tell her and watch her blanch, "Relax, the Jokette is dead."

     "You killed a Jokette?" she asks incredulously.

     "I bet if I dropped down and landed on you, it wouldn't do you any good. Besides, it looks like the three Team Rocket and the other three - " I pull out the bags with their wallets, I.D.s and Pokèdexes, "Gave her a heck of a fight. But the main reason I came in was to report a missing person."

     "Who's missing?" the 'Jenny is instantly interested.

     "Me," I admit, "I suspect it was the landing on the Jokette, but I haven't the foggiest idea who I am, and I don't seem to have any identification or clues on my clothing. Maybe you can find out."

     "You might be a criminal," the Growlie suggests, and gets a sharp look from the 'Jenny.

     "I'd rather know. Also, I found two other Pokègirls, I think they are the Jokette's harem. She had a belt with their Pokèballs on it," I tell them, "They're over at the Pokècenter, one of them, is a bit eccentric and didn't want to come in here. Other one seems normal, if you don't mind a bright-red Tanuki 220 cm tall."

     "Bright-red?" the Growlie and the Jenny chorus and stare intently at me.

     "Yes," I reply as I back away, "Is there a problem?"

     "A very big one!" the 'Jenny insists as she charges out with the Growlie hot on her heels.

     Something's screwy about all of this! I think as I dash out of the Police Station, the open road leads in both directions, Why am I following them, instead of heading into the Sequoia forests?

     Red comes charging out of the Pokècenter. "Boss, she saw the cops and went nuts . . . more nuts." She bypassed the police and stops in front of me, she whispers, "There's a simple way to calm her down, or at least keep her from running away." She seems mortified by the admission.

     "And . . . ?" I ask.

     "You have to understand. She was in the hands of that Jokette for months, maybe years. Just don't think I've gone nuts," she says, nearly a plea.

     "Okay." It isn't like I have a choice, I think.

     "You go in, alone, stick your finger in her navel, and puff out your cheeks," she says, shifts uncomfortably on her feet, glancing at me, then her feet, and back.

     I stare at her for a moment, her shame growing by the moment, but she won't explain further. "Officers, give me a moment." I walk into the Pokècenter.

     "I will not surrender!" `Gray` is standing on a table with a Megami and two NurseJoys fluttering about.

     "I'm not asking you to surrender," I tell her as I approach with my hands where she can see them, "They wanted to talk to Red, not you. She's out in the street talking with them." I get close enough to stick my finger in her naval and let her see me puff out my cheeks.

     The change, the sudden inflation is shocking. While her waist remains the same, every part of her below her waist balloons out. Her thighs are bigger around than my waist, her belly and butt are probably three meters around at the widest point.

     "Oh Master!" she moans, running her hands over the `inflated` part of her body, "Oh Master, oh Master."

     I don't know who's more shocked: me, the Megami or the 'Joys. "Are you going to give the NurseJoys any trouble?"

     "No . . . Master," she sighs. Then she orgasms and slowly `deflates`. "Oh Master, fill me up again! Please Master!"

     "After the NurseJoys have checked you out," I tell her tenderly.

     "Maaaassterrr!" she whines as she returns to normal.

     "Later, I promise," I tell her, then turn to the shocked Megami and NurseJoys, "Check her out, make sure she's healthy." I tap the side of my head. The Megami nods as she leads Gray away.

     Gray looks at me longingly over her shoulder as she moves away.

     I head out of the Pokècenter, Red and the police are gone. Okay, I'm not going to make a run for it . . . again, I think as I walk back into the Police Station.

     Red looks like she would slit her wrists if offered something sharp, her head hung low and looking pleadingly at the Growlie.

     "Does she have to know?" Red asks.

     "Margarete, you didn't get sold, you were captured," the Growlie pleads with her.

     Red, Margarete, turns to me. "You're a Tamer, or a Breeder, or a Watcher," she looks at the Growlie and desperately asks, "Tanuki can be pets can't they!?" The despair in her voice frightens me and the Growlie. She suddenly took my hand, and confirmed my suspicion she was extremely strong, but she didn't hurt me. "I'll be good, I'll do or go whatever and wherever you want," she promises earnestly, her expression a fearful mirror of Gray's over the shoulder look.

     "Hold it, hold it," I say as I kneel beside her chair. "They might find out I'm a criminal and throw me in jail." I put my hand on her arm. She certainly has a set of muscles under that fur, I realize. "I want to understand before I make any decision."

     Margarete sighed. "My mother . . . well she always thought she was a Butter-She . . . "

     "FarFuck'D," the Growlie supplies. I nod.

     "My sisters were all born human, but each one went through Threshold. My mother insisted we all be as 'cute and lovely' as she was, and she is. My mother works at being cute."

     I nod. 'My mother', an adult calling the woman 'my mother' shows a very tense relationship, I think, Okay, I must work with kids a lot. Whoever I am. "Go on."

     "My sisters bought into it completely. They Thresholded into a ButtItsFree, a FairyCute, a Nymph, and a Cabbit. All extremely cute, my dad didn't have to work after he sold them to one of the local Breeders, even after extracting the promise they'd be used as breeding stock and . . . I guess, charm instructors and they were good at it."

     "Okay. You were different."

     She smiles shyly and moves my hand to her bicep and flexes it.

     I bet she could have broken both of us in half, I realize. "That's . . . impressive."

     "I was always a bit of a tomboy, I Thresholded directly into an Amachamp. Bright, blood red." She pauses to let that sink in.

     "My mother took it as a challenge. Pink eye shadow, lipstick, nail polish; ribbons, frills and bows." She clenches her fists, I feel the muscles bunch up under her skin. "I spent as much time as I could with the park rangers, rescuing people from the dangers of Sequoia Park." She blushes, rubs her hands together. "And some of them were pretty cute."

     "She was captured by a Team Rocket bunch a year and a half ago," the Growlie adds.

     "I was trying to hold them off - "

     "You let them catch you to divert them," I interrupt, "Because there was someone else you wanted to escape. More than you wanted to escape yourself."

     "Two of my sisters," Margarete admits, "An Amachamp was a lot more valuable. I figured I could escape at any time. I also figured I could get a long way away from her. I overstepped commonsense a bit, maybe I was going a bit Feral. They used a Black Pokèball on me. I guess they were trying to change me into something more harmless. I'm a lot more harmless than I was, but I wasn't completely helpless. When that Jokette attacked their camp, I set a lot of the other girls loose, and I went with her."

     "So how many months have you been hiding out with that Jokette?" I ask, "The red Tanuki hiding from the local searchers?"

     "Just two," she admits, "She never attacked any humans before, just Ferals. Buzzbreasts and Wasps seemed to be what she favored tormenting. She was absolutely cruel and merciless, but never to us. We were her apprentices, maybe. As long as she concentrated on dangerous creatures, I just let her go. `Gray` was already with her and just as nuts as she is now. And before you say it, yes, I could have knocked both on the head and walked here, and my mother's place is about two days walk from here."

     I nod, and let the others consider. Three days' walk, or a good day's run, and she never took it. "Until I know who I am, I can't promise anything," I tell her, "I'll consider it. Maybe I can help you."

     "Thank you," Margarete says, "Can you do me one favor?"

     "If I can," I reply.

     "Can you keep calling me 'Red'? I always hated Margarete, it makes me think of a miniature Margaret, and the gods help anyone my mother heard call me 'Marge'."

     "Okay, Red," I tell her. She leaves for the Pokècenter, and that leaves me with the Growlie. "Is she exaggerating?" I ask.

     "She's being - polite," the Growlie assures me, "She was always a good kid."

     "This is a crossroads town, there was a Tamer I saw when I walked in. There has to have been a Tamer who could have captured her."

     The Growlie shrugs. "None caught her fancy, and have you ever seen an Amachamp who knows Karate?"

     "Not that I remember," I admit.

     "Of course, well, if she said 'no', she backed it up," the Growlie tells me, "We can get your fingerprints, retinal scans, and find out who you are. Maybe you're one of those travelers from other dimensions."

     I laugh. "I'd be mightily thewed and be able to Tame a dozen Gynodoses and have all the Pokègirls swoon when I walked in the room. I'm a paunchy, graying old man who probably should see an opthamologist about some glasses."

     "I called the hotel across the street, they'll put you up for the night on credit," she tells me, "The reward for those Team Rocket types will more than cover it. The reward for the Jokette will require confirmation, so we'll probably go to the site tomorrow morning."

     I nod and head across the street to get a shower and some sleep.

     This Valkyrie is getting on everybody's nerves, I think as we walk along, I'm glad we left Gray behind. I note Red's growing frustration with the Valkyrie's comments that she could have flown here, that if her WONDERFUL Tamer had known about the Jokette they could have taken care of her with INCOMPARABLE STYLE, and so on.

     Red waves me forward, then stops me at a particular point. I glance down and see she has her foot wrapped around a rope. As the Valkyrie closes, Red yanks on the rope and screams, "WIDOW!" as she grabs me and dives out of the way.

     The model is very realistic as it pops out and shakes and roars. The continuing rumble I realize is Red's deep laugh as she hugs me. The Widow puppet hangs and bobs, continuing to growl. The boastful Valkyrie lays on the ground, having fainted on sight of the `monster`.

     "I'm sorry," she continues to laugh as she picks me up off the ground. She bends over to put her hands on her knees and continues to laugh. "I just couldn't help myself."

     It's good to know she can laugh, I think as the others also begin chuckling at the trick. "Are there more tricks and traps?" I ask.

     "Lots, but I'll trip them before you get there," Red says, wiping tears of laughter. She shakes her head, still chuckling as she walks forward.

     I glance back to the OfficerJenny, who is also chuckling at the unconscious `invincible` Valkyrie and her distraught Tamer. She shrugs and walks up to catch up with Red.

     I shake my head and follow. The bear trap in the middle of the floor of the cave opening causes most of us to pause, but Red steps directly on the trigger and walks in. I've trusted her this far, I think as I follow her in.

     "You have to understand the sense of humor that went into this place. Don't open anything unless I'm there. Sometimes it's just paint, sometimes it is something a lot nastier," Red warns.

     And that's it for the fun house, I think, still shaking at some of the things we'd all seen, I would have been a lot less tolerant if I'd known. At least I'm not the one who had to photograph all of it. I walk up to Red. "You would rather stay there?" I whisper to her, "Rather than go home?"

     "The Jokette never tried to make anyone think she was sane," Red says, fully back in her grim persona.

     "We'll have the reward as well as your I.D. when you return to Darwin," the OfficerJenny assures me, then she lowers her voice, "Is it just me, or is our Valkyrie a good deal quieter?"

     "I heard she's going to join a Pidgy messenger service as a special courier," I reply, managing to get a smile from the `grim avenger`.

     I stare at the photo on the screen, That looks the same as the face that stared at me when I was shaving this morning, I think as I look over the data.

     "Simon Carver, Chief Lab Technician of the Industrial Magic Division at Tenochtitlàn University, Masters Degree, two patents," I say, "Not bad for forty years of life." No family, no Pokègirls listed, a real bookworm I guess, I think, Somehow that doesn't sound like me. Maybe I needed to get out more.

     "Until about seven years ago, when there was an accident in the High Energy Magic Department. You vanished during rescue operations. Fingerprints and retinal scans all match 100%, but we don't have a lab to do a DNA match - "

     "I'd insist on flowers and a movie before I gave a sample," I interrupt, "So I end up thousands of kilometers and seven years away from where I was, apparently no older, and with no memory of any events."

     "That sounds about right," the Growlie tells me, "Also, when we did the search, the systems at Tenochtitlàn sent up a flag, there's a team coming out to examine you."

     "Okay, how does this affect Red and Gray?" I ask. Somehow leaving that nut to anyone else doesn't seem fair to either of them, I think.

     "You've got a Tamer's, Storage, Breeder's and Watcher's license, but no evidence of a Tamer's journey."

     "Straight into the university out of school, no magical abilities, but a lot of emphasis on theory and practice," I read from the school transcript, "Using Pokègirls and magic to simulate lost industrial processes. The first patent was from my senior project, using Fire and Air type to simulate the Bessemer process. The second was my Master's thesis and is even more esoteric. That still doesn't sound like me."

     "Maybe, but you don't know who you are." The Growlie finishes checking the paperwork, then hands it over. "Formal possession of a Tanuki, formerly a girl named Margarete Cameron. Salvage rules or rescue rules. However, I'd rather you used the salvage paperwork. It's harder to contest, almost impossible."

     "I take it you think her mother would contest any claim," I say as I look over the paperwork, reading it thoroughly before signing and initialing it at the required points.

     "She's a little . . . extreme," the Growlie says as neutrally as she can.

JOKETTE, the Clown Princess Of Killing PokéGirl

Type: Very Near Human
Element: Magic
Frequency: Extremely Rare (Not rare enough in some people's opinion)
Diet: Human-style, presumed also to feed on fear
Role: Killing
Libido: No one wants to know.
Strong Vs: Poison, Psychic
Weak Vs: Fighting, Dark, Ghost
Attacks: Teleport, Tackle, Wrestle, Quick Attack, Flash, Blur, Slash, Power Bolt, light spellwork, Smilex Mist
Enhancements: Totally insane, almost totally fearless, intelligent
Evolves: None
Evolves From: Harlequin (Mana Crystal)
Bounty (for confirmed kill): 50,000 SLC Bounty (for reporting sighting & getting out alive): 7,000 SLC

Recommendation if you see one: Do not try to fight a Jokette unless you have a fighting-type, ghost-type, or bat-type Pokegirl. A Celestial-type would be ideal, but the League understands that they are a very rare type. Also, if Smilex Mist is used, drop whatever you're doing and RUN, making sure not to breath in the mist.

     Harlequins are problem enough. It's when they evolve that things get bad.

     When exposed to a Mana Crystal, the first thing that happens to a Harlequin is that they suffer a massive psychic overload. They quite literally view hundreds of minds at once. This in turn makes them become bitter, viewing the entire world and everyone in it as a joke. So pathetic a joke, that all they can do is laugh, laugh, laugh, and make everyone around them die laughing as well. Then the physical changes begin. Their skin turns chalk white, their hair becomes green, and their lips become blood red in color. Their breasts become comically large, although they somehow retain their agility despite this. Their jaws enlarge slightly, making them capable of giving large, frightening grins. They gain a preference for purple clothes, either tuxedos that are modified to reveal a great deal of skin, or bikini suits.

     They are not the best spellcasters (something which everyone is grateful for), and can manage only small elemental manifestations and healing spells. But they don't rely on them, preferring to manifest blades in the shape of playing cards to fight physically. They love playing lethal practical jokes, setting up elaborate schemes to kill someone. When they need Taming, they simply capture, rape, and kill someone (male or female) that attracts their attention.

     The most dangerous attack a Jokette has is the Smilex Mist. It's a Poison-type attack. They exhale a cloud of pinkish-purple gas that, if inhaled, causes the victim to have uncontrollable fits of laughter, becoming so violent that in weaker victims, ribs are broken as the victim literally laughs themselves to death, suffocating and leaving the victim with a painful smile on their face, similar to that of a NightMare. It can be cured by normal antidotes, but it must be administered quickly, within ten minutes of inhaling the gas. Poison-type PokéGirls are completely immune to this gas.

     They are completely immune to psychic probing, as they are so insane that any attempts to probe their mind results in temporary dementia and the PokéGirl who tried having nightmares for a month. Interestingly enough, a Jokette can be made to back off if confronted with a ghost element or a dark-element PokéGirl. They don't show fear, but they do seem intimidated by them enough to run away.

     Oddly enough, they seem greatly amused by Bat-type or Fighting-type PokéGirls, and look forward to fighting them. This is seen as especially odd in that Jokette's have an elemental weakness to fighting-type attacks. Most researchers attribute this to their insanity.

     Celestial PokéGirls, however, scare them tremendously. They will avoid churches like the plague and seem terrified of Angels and Seraphs, those being one of the only types of PokéGirl that can make a Jokette frown. No one knows why this is, but some Celestials who've had encounters with Jokettes have theorized that Jokettes fear them because of what they represent, a goodness that goes against their worldview of the world as one big joke.

     But other than what is mentioned above, Jokettes are completely fearless. Power does not impress them in the slightest, and they will even laugh in the face of opponents capable of striking them dead in one blow. They consider everything a game, and love to play for keeps.

     No cases of Thresholding directly into a Jokette have been reported, thankfully. It also seems that Jokettes die instead of going through second puberty to become a PokéWoman. Researchers have concluded that this is known to Jokettes, and also contributes to their murderous insanity.

Fossils 2- Tanuki and StretchyMaid By Kelvins Choice

     "Yes, Mistress," Gray moans as Red suckles at one of her tits. That breast begins swelling like a balloon. Then Red abandons that breast, to much whining by Gray, to suckle the other, `inflating` that one as well.

     In the control room overlooking the Taming room, I watch the readouts and analysis coming from the two girls and the assaying table Gray lies on, along with the local Megami and several NurseJoys who concentrate on a section of the information.

     "It is air," the NurseJoy tells me, showing the diagram on the screen, "She's creating a void within herself and stretching to inflate it, then sealing it off within her."

     "That explains the Jokette's Helium tanks," I jest. I'm fascinated as much by the process as the two girls going at it, I admit to myself, Keep your mind on your work, Simon. Even the name, my own name, seems alien to me. Learning who I was before the accident didn't miraculously connect me with that person, or the person I am now, I think forlornly, So much for figuring out who I am.

     "She's not showing any signs of pain, if that's what you're worried about," one of the NurseJoys offers.

     The way she's moaning and begging, that's the least of my worries right now, I think and glance from one of the NurseJoys to another, I can't tell them apart. I suspect that's intentional. "I'm more worried about her injuring herself," I reply, "Rupturing herself or damaging an organ, or an air embolism."

     "No signs of that," the Megami intones as she watches Red nuzzle Gray's bellybutton, slowly inflating the StretchyMaid's lower body, "She seems to be holding the air without a problem."

     I bet there are people who'd pay a lot of money for a StretchyMaid trained to do that, and even more money for the training regimen used, I think, It's a good thing that the Jokette was either illiterate or never wrote anything down. That much money could turn anyone's head.

     Red has returned to nuzzling Gray's breast, inflating it further. Unfortunately, Red might have that knowledge, I think, remembering Gray's orgasm/deflation cycle, And she's been able to inflate Gray further than I did in the Pokècenter lobby. While Gray has grown to immense size, Red has denied her release, while inflating her further. Gray runs her hands over her bust or belly, whichever Red isn't currently inflating, moaning at the attention and inattention.

     "Mistress!" Gray's voice contains real alarm, Red had stepped over to stand above Gray's head and she holds Gray's hands over her head, preventing Gray from touching herself.

     "You want to get big, don't you?" Red asks the frantically squirming Gray.

     "Yes, Mistress! Please!" Gray looks pleadingly at her.

     "Then lie still for a moment and relax," Red tells her, "As still as you can."

     "Miiissstreesss!?" Gray pleads.

     "Not another word!" Red orders, then glances at us. Gray whimpers a little, but generally stays motionless, so we can collect good information.

     "From her body shape," the Megami comments, "If she had a skeleton, she wouldn't be distorting it. All the expanded areas are outside the skeleton, so should not prove a threat to her internal organs."

     That's a relief, I think, I can't imagine trying to keep her from performing her favorite trick. "Good to hear," I tell the Megami, "But what about her skin, the stretching must lead to thinning."

     She returns to her analysis.

     The thought of Gray popping herself, or being induced to pop herself, bothers me, I think as I watch Red playing the `vicious` mistress, denying Gray what she so desperately longs for. I wonder if Red takes that role as a rebellion against her domineering mother? I silently ask myself, Or did the Jokette train her to that role as she trained Gray to do this trick?

     I glance around at the 'Joys and the Megami trying to ascertain the answers to my question. This is weird, I think, I recognize half this equipment, not as in I could name it, but I could operate it. Better than they can. I could have already gotten most of the information I wanted, yet if you'd asked me before I walked in here, I might not have been able to guess at these machines' functions.

     "Her skin is thinner, but nowhere near the danger levels, even at this amount of expansion," one of the NurseJoys tells us.

     "Then take her up," I say, knowing the signal will be passed to Red.

     Red begins `inflating` Gray more, eliciting cries of joy from the StretchyMaid as she expands. I watch Red slowly, lovingly inflating her play-toy, taking breaks to deny Gray release and to prolong her inflation.

     She's in charge, and she's being careful, I think as I watch, Very different than how she was this morning. I smile as I remember how I woke before the sun came up.

     It was a soft sound that awakened me. The tread across my hotel room. I watched the large figure picking up clothes, shoes, and setting them out of the night-dim walkway.

     She doesn't want to trip over something, I realized. Through the dim light, all I could make out were grainy, gray images, like an old black-and-white photograph. But I only know one person in town who's that tall, I realized. "Red - "

     The poor Tanuki panicked, noisily dropping her cargo.

     "You don't have to pick up after me . . . are you okay?"

     "I'm okay, I . . . guess I got used to it. After Gray serviced our mistress, it was the only time I could clean up the place, I just got into the habit. Besides, I really am more nocturnal, I can see pretty well in the dark," she explained, "I . . . I also found out that you did claim me. I wanted to thank you, and to warn you. My mother will be charging in here soon. What she'll do - I don't really know, except it won't be pleasant."

     "That's my worry, not yours," I told her as she put her hands behind her back and she took a tentative step forward, "If what I read about myself is correct, I have a lot of experience dealing with excitable, spoiled children, some adult, some not," I told her, she took another careful, edgy step forward. Stay calm, just let her approach, I told myself. I remembered what I read in my bio, and vague memories that those seemingly unrelated bits of data dropped into my mind, Especially after I read the names of some of the instructors. I'd be hard-pressed to put names to faces, but I can remember some of the problems posed by their impossible demands, demands I had to figure out how to make work. Maybe Red is part of my new future, I should just let her act and see what happens.

     "I don't think you should worry too much," I told her as she carefully stepped forward, and slipped into bed beside me, "But I will warn you, while she is here, I'm not going to take anything you say at face value, I'm going to assume she's pressuring you into saying it."

     "Okay," she said as she snuggled up against me, then despite her greater strength and size, I wrapped my arms around her and I nestled her against me.

     I smelled jasmine and sandalwood, felt the softness of her freshly shampooed fur and the tautness of her muscles, those relaxed a few moments later. She's scared, she's wondering if I approve of her getting groomed, and not by a grooming cycle, I thought, I did tell her to use her part of the reward however she wanted. I continued stroking her fur, letting her settle.

     "Why . . . when we were walking . . . " Red asked as she laid her head on my shoulder, "Three separate tents, three separate sleeping bags, why?"

     "Aside from my being exhausted by the walk? I don't know," I admitted, "I just never thought any different. I wasn't trying to shut you out, anymore than having you sleep in the same tent would have been encouraging you." I wonder about that, I thought while she considered my words, my fingers still idly played over her soft, warm fur, I worked with Pokègirls, possibly a lot, yet there's no evidence of any kind of bond to them. Curious. As if I got those licenses because it was something to do, or I had something to prove. 'I've got no Pokègirls, but I could if I wanted.' After I `neutralized` Gray, I could have taken her to a Taming room, but instead I wanted her healthy. I could have told Red about the paperwork, but I wanted her to get a good night's sleep in the Pokècenter where the 'Joys would keep an eye on her. Heck, I could have demanded they submit any time after we buried the bodies, ordered them to take me to the Jokette's lair and Tamed them there. I did none of those things, it just didn't seem as important as getting them to town to be checked out, and to find out who I am. Now I could Tame Red, but I'd rather have her cuddling like this.

     "I am grateful," she told me, looked into my eyes, smiled as she did.

     The invitation is clear. Why am I effectively ignoring it? I asked myself, I obviously cared, or I wouldn't have `rescued` her and Gray. Or stayed with the Jokette. Friendship, but no more? Or is it when I look at her just now, and when I looked at Gray and even the Jokette, I saw scared kids, and not sex partners? I hugged Red tightly against me, held her against me as she fearfully returned it. I can feel your heart beating like the fluttering of a trapped bird, I thought, remembering her eyes filled with expectation and fear, Not a young woman, a little girl right now, too frightened, I thought. I kissed her carefully, she tentatively kissed back. But that's all I feel like, I thought, let her relax, Right now she's a scared kid offering whatever she can to `buy` her way out of trouble. Within a few moments, she was settling in. I kept playing my fingers over her fur, slowly lulled her into sleep.

     Sorry, I'm no 14-year-old who has to get his rocks off every second, I silently apologized, I'm an old man who enjoys companionship as much as the thought of driving it in and out. Looking for someone in for the long-haul, rather than the next ten minutes, or next hour.

     I shake my head to banish the memory, as I watch Red lavish attention on Gray. Are you doing this to get me interested, or to deal with your needs of power and control, or because I asked? I wonder, I am interested in how you're treating Gray, but as for turning Gray into a collection of bubbles . . . I really preferred how she was built before. But you like her that big, don't you?! I smile at that realization. As if to confirm my suspicions, Red begins climbing atop the table and Gray's tumescent belly, flattening it out with her weight. A quick scan of the instruments shows Gray is in no danger of bursting. "How is that possible?" I ask almost without realizing it.

     Instead, Gray is moaning up a storm at the sudden increase in pressure.

     "None of that!" Red tells her sharply, as sharp as the claw extending from Red's index finger that she touches to Gray's beachball-sized breast, "Or I let all of it out my way!"

     The Megami is about to protest when I catch Red's other hand, hidden from Gray, waving us off. "It seems to be part of the game," I tell them, "But I've got Gray's Pokèball ready just in case, and I know where the healing machine is." And I know how to operate it as well, I don't add.

     Gray's moans are now whimpers as Red further inflates her breast, while running her finger over the swelling bosom, the claw readily visible to Gray and seemingly poised to strike. Red's other hand, claws extended, strokes Gray's other breast. At the same time, Red's raccoon-like tail plays between Gray's legs. The StretchyMaid is too inflated to close her legs and deny access, although she tries amid truly pathetic whimpers.

     "Misstress," she whines, "Your tail."

     "What did I say about being quiet?" Red asks while tapping on Gray's breast with the claw.

     "Forgiveness," Gray whines.

     "Silence," Red replies in a humoring tone, then returns to inflating her `victim` further.

     "I am concerned about the psychology of this," one of the NurseJoys says.

     "Way to break the mood," another 'Joy quietly grouses.

     I agree, I think, adjusting my some of my clothes which have become very constricting all of a sudden, With both of you. But StretchyMaid's like it. Ah, after all the domination by her mother, Red needs this as release -

     The loud POP! and hissing drag me back to the instruments. A quick survey, as I raise Gray's Pokèball to recall her, reveals she is leaking from dozens of orifices of her own making. We all relax, the tests are over. Red is back standing on the floor, her muzzle between Gray's legs, lapping at her, driving the deflating-balloon into further paroxysms.

     I hit the shutters and cut off the cameras, even taking the master key for the system, to disable the cameras. "A little privacy," I tell them as I leave the control room. As if I don't know each of them have a surreptitiously-made backup. Pokègirls are such voyeurs, I tell myself, Ah! Who cares. If they don't talk, Red and Gray will.

     I enter the Taming room. Red is still too intent on her delicious torment of Gray to notice me. The deflated Gray does, and I put a finger to my lips to keep her from giving me away. She's moaning far too much to warn anyone of anything, she does wrap her legs around Red's head more tightly. I pull the Jokette's joybuzzer. I'd had time to examine it, and 'Hilarious' did what I expected, released a jolt that would fell a Gynodose, if the Jokette had been mad enough to slap her. But 'Amusing' was not what I had expected. I can appreciate genius, even perverted genius when I encounter it, I think as I watch Red's fluffy tail lash in the air like a Kitten on the hunt. I check the setting, then shove the Jokette's masterpiece against Red's swollen love button, and joybuzzer takes on a whole new meaning.

     Red lets loose a series of barking cries as her legs tremble, desperately trying to escape. But her sudden weakness and Gray's grip prevent that.

     "Ma - ma - master!" she gasps as she sinks to her knees.

     "I thought you deserved a reward," I tell her, holding the still-buzzing device against her, "If you've been a good girl."

     "Yes, yes, good girl," she manages, as her collapse drags Gray off the table, leaving her on her knees, her bottom in the air and her tail standing straight up and bristling like a bottle brush.

     "Gray, what should I do with her?" I ask, knowing the charge will soon be expended.

     "Turn around and walk out," Gray suggests, back the to grim avenger, "Leave her punishment to me."

     "No, please," Red pleads

     "We'll be merciful this once, " I tell her as I drop my pants after slipping the now empty buzzer in my pocket.

     I push myself inside her. It's not as tight a fit as all the stories tell, more my fault than hers. I reach down to run my fingers across the lips of her labia, while Gray slides underneath her and begins suckling and massaging Red's breasts.

     Red is quietly vocal, but incoherent. "She likes," Gray translates, eliciting a frantic head nodding from Red.

     Red's quiet 'uh' is all the warning we get, Gray gets the worst of it, but she enjoys it immensely. Tanuki can turn to stone, but first all her muscles clench. She grabs Gray in a bone crusher of a hug, which sends the pressure-loving StretchyMaid into rapture. I'm put glad it's smooth stone, I think as she tightly grips me rather intimately, and literally becomes a statue, Well, I'm also glad she came as quickly as she did. Muscles all over my body are reminding me a) I'm not as young as I used to be, b) exercise and stretching might have been a good idea before exertion, and c) pain is not relative when it is yours.

     Red reverts to flesh and blood after a few tense moments. She practically collapses. "Sorry," she mumbles.

     "It's okay - " I say, and plan to say more when Gray suddenly rushes over.

     "This is the best part!" she exclaims before she engulfs my manhood in her mouth, and starts doing the most wonderful, indescribable things with her pliable tongue and bouncy teeth.

     Flexibility is a wonderful thing, I think, barely able to stand under the `onslaught.` She continues until I spray my seed into her mouth, she laps me clean, before letting me go. No wonder Taming is a game for the young, I think as I sag to my knees, utterly spent, I'm more out of shape than I thought. I watch Gray give Red the same thorough tongue lashing, moaning with pleasure. Red is giving her own little inarticulate sounds of appreciation. Even the sight of two beautiful girls going at it doesn't revive me. Although I love the show, I think as I sink into a sitting position to watch.

     Finally, even Gray is satiated, and crawls into Red's arms.

     I should do something, other than sit here and be happy for them, I think, But I don't want to `intrude`. I have to wonder about that.

     A hot shower, a decent, albeit silent, meal with Red and Gray, and a lot of rapidly hidden snickering by the NurseJoys and the Megami later, I drag myself to my hotel room. All I want is sleep, I think as I trudge up the steps and down the hall. I barely notice Gray and Red standing by the door, patiently waiting. "Is there something wrong?"

     "They gave us both a clean bill of health," Red says, a trifle too quickly.

     "We want to know if you think there's something wrong," Gray says, nearly a demand.

     I unlock the door and step inside. I didn't invite them in, I think idly, my tired mind running in strange directions, I guess I've had some run-ins with Vampires. I stifle a laugh at the terrible joke, then turn to relock the door behind us. Both Red and Gray followed me inside. "Other than some muscles strains, and I'm very tired - " I say, as Red turns down the sheets and slips into the bed.

     "It will fit three, if we're friendly," Gray tells me, dropping any trace of the `grim avenger` persona she's used since I met her, as she gently pushes me by the shoulder to the bed.

     Although I see the strain, I think, She's working at being friendly and nonthreatening. As if to confirm my supposition, she ceases her push as we reach the edge of the bed and steps around to wait beside the bed with me. 'Decision time' they're both telling me, I think as I look at Red's expectant look, and Gray's normal nonchalance. Except there's no decision I can be completely comfortable with, I think as I slip off my pants, But neither the Tanuki nor the StretchyMaid breeds are as difficult to master as a Succubus or such. The StretchyMaid likes to be dominated, the Tanuki is a playful troublemaker, aside from their quirks, these two fit their breeds' templates.

     I slip into bed beside Red. Perhaps I shouldn't try to control things, I think as Red beams at me, Just let them happen.

     Red cups my face in her hands and wraps her powerful legs around mine, as Gray slips in behind me. "It will be all right," Red tells me.

     "'All right!!'?" I squeak, as Gray envelops both of us both, she avoids Red's face and mine, leaving the two of us looking like we squeezed together into an oversized wet suit.

     "All right?" Red asks while smirking, slipping her own arms around me.

     "It will take some getting used to," I admit. Having both of you curled around me, instead of sleeping alone, I think, As well as the fact you want to. As the three of us settle in, I wonder, Is that why I never had a Pokègirl, because I never wanted to make it an imposition? Or because I never could bring myself to trust one, or anyone for that matter. If so, I wonder what kind of person made these decisions. I put my arms around Red, and feel the soft, warm fur, as well as the powerful muscles beneath it. I wonder about the one-time Amachamp and who had the will and intelligence to keep a Jokette enough off balance and entertained, that it didn't kill her, and the very odd StretchyMaid who is probably mad, but not dangerous. Not the idea Harem, I think, But I don't want nor could I handle a Harem.

     Morning comes, I haven't been clawed to death, bitten, engulfed and digested, or anything else unpleasant. No screaming nightmares, not even any snoring, including from me. Red's smile and gaze in the morning is worth waking up to. I can feel Gray still surrounding us, not squeezing, but holding us.

     None of us wants to be the first to declare that the night is over and the day has begun, I think, then I remind myself, Unfortunately, that's my job. Whether they were dreaming of a 'first thing in the morning' Taming, or just more cuddling, I don't know. However, I . . . we've . . . got two major problems, I think, And I have to be ready and prepared to deal with them both. "Sorry, you two can stay in bed," I tell them, "I have to go to work." I slip out of Gray's grip, and pull on my robe. "Gray?"

     "Yes?" the StretchyMaid asks, yawning and elongating to an unbelievable degree as she woke to the day.

     "I guess I've been calling you 'Gray' because it was the first thing I thought of to tell you two apart, but I never asked your name."

     "I'll tolerate 'Gray', maybe I'll change it or alter it later. I hadn't really considered," Gray replies.

     "You avoided my question," I comment as neutrally as I can, "What your name used to be."

     "I'd like to leave it behind," she says very shyly, or perhaps shamefully, "It roughly translates as 'dutch wife', and it doesn't refer to a married woman from the Netherlands or a wicker chair."

     "Message received," I tell her, "Sorry, I thought I was depersonalizing you."

     "It's has been done," Gray tells me, glances at Red who stares at both of us in confusion, "I'll explain it to her. You've got to be ready to face Mrs. Cameron, and your former colleagues."

     I'm a bit shocked that Gray already picked that up I think as I nod and leave, I have to quit thinking of her as a nut, she may be weird, but she isn't stupid. Blow-up doll indeed. That explains why the Jokette trained her to do that trick, blow her up and blow her mind. The Jokette gets a vicarious revenge on the ones who treated Gray that way. Someday I want to hear Gray's whole story.

     The Police Station is quiet at this hour.

     "For a Tamer, you sure get up early." `Sheriff` Jenny is staring at the computer screen, as if it were the most important thing in the world. "Who are you?" she asks as she looks at me.

     "Excuse me?" I ask.

     "I've looked over the reports about you, everything I can get with law enforcement clearance. Part of it was to find out what kind of man had caught Mar - "

     " 'Red's', she doesn't want to be Margarete anymore."

     " - Red's eye. She seems smitten with you."

     "Do Officer Jennies always look into things like this?" I ask, sitting in the chair across the desk from her.

     "Officer Jennies are cops, blood and bone, training not withstanding. Cops get a nose for trouble, long before it arrives on the scene. You are trouble, you could be a very dangerous man, if you chose to be."

     "So can anyone, if they need to be," I reply, "You know that Sheriff." Where is this going? I wonder.

     "Not him," the 'Jenny swivels the screen so I can see it. Each open window on the screen has some note on Simon Carver. "In my life, I've never read about a more hands-off semi-successful, bookworm. He seemed to manage through life. He got the two patents, probably to avoid having to get a doctorate for a cushy job for life. After that, he didn't do much. A solid B-student pre-Masters. After he had his job, he takes a few classes that seemed to interest him, where he got honors in all of them. An old-line cop looks at him and sees someone more likely to be an office politician and a rather servile one, rather than a combat monster. More likely to be an extortionist, from a distance. Not a conman or thief, too up close and personal. If he murdered someone, it would be with poison or some such."

     "I landed on her - " I protest.

     "And then rescued two Pokègirls, buried the corpses, walked into town . . . while not out of line for a cop or similar professional, a hands-off semi-successful, bookworm . . . no chance. So who are you?" she asks.

     I consider before answering, then shrug. "I honestly don't know. Everything I see about me, doesn't seem like me. Maybe all I needed was a new start, maybe something did happen between when I disappeared and when I reappeared, even if it was just considering that if you added up my life, it didn't matter all that much. When I woke up, I really woke up." I shrug again. Good questions, I think, I wish I had answers.

     "Okay," she says, hiding her dissatisfaction with my answer, but approving of who would look after her fellow villager. "One other thing, I did some checking on the accident. Maybe I'm just an old cop, but I'm not alone. I checked with some of the cops in Nuevo Tenochtitlàn, and there's a few things you need to know."

     The trio of mages appear in the middle of the town, if anyone is impressed, they don't show it. That includes me, I think, giving them a polite applause. "You appeared exactly where I expected you to," I tell them as they realize they are standing approximately atop an large 'X'. Nothing a mage hates more than being predictable, I think, But I want them to understand, I am not who they were expecting. I guess part of it is that I don't care about what others think of me. I am who I am, who ever I was.

     "Well, Technician Simon," the man says as he extends his hand.

     "Your Excellency," I use the formal title for a wizard, "I'm afraid I can't tell you you're looking as well as I remember, because I don't remember."

     The mage and his two companions look vaguely relieved.

     "I admit . .. " I begin my `attack`. "I hadn't considered that Professor Moledi would be elevated all the way up to the position of Dean of Applied Magic. Almost by magic itself, he rose. Almost as if some . . . hindrance . . . had suddenly been removed." I pause to let them digest that, then I hit them from a different direction. "I can't say I developed the theory myself. The police did help walk me through it." I let them compile that as well.

     From their faces, I don't think they like my offering, I think, Now while I've got them on the ropes. Thank you, Sheriff Jenny. "I can understand how difficult it will be for the Dean to have someone working for him who suffered . . . such a tragic accident," I say sympathetically, "He was in charge of the experiment that sent me here and now."

     They're beginning to realize they aren't facing who they expected, I realize, Well, then it's time to give them the out I want them to take. "As I said, difficult. Difficult for me as well, having to relearn all the procedures, names, faces, etc. Fortunately there is a simple solution for both of us. I want to take time to examine who I am. Since I don't remember who I was, and I keep feeling how I think I am is very different from who I was. I gave the University 24 years -"

     "Ah, you were employed only 17 years," the least senior mage pointed out.

     "True, but the accident also cost 7 years, seventeen plus seven is twenty-four years. I was considering retirement. The University's retirement plan is quite attractive, especially with 24 years given to the University. The reliable income, access to the special collection for research, and the other perks of a University retiree will be most welcome." I smile at them.

     They step off a short distance and discuss, I can hear nothing.

     Anti-surveillance spell, I think, No special knowledge to figure that out. I spot a colorful figure crossing the main road and looking around. Huh, my second problem, I realize, I believe I'm going to let my problems grind each other down a bit. If what the Sheriff said is correct, the chief of the delegation has a thing for younger girls, especially Pokègirls. And Mrs. Cameron looks like she's either 19 or 9, or a 9 year-old with the build of a 19-year-old.

     "We think your proposal is very . . . agreeable . . . " the head wizard catches a good look at Mrs. Cameron. One meter twenty, brightly colored wings and myriad ribbons fluttering around her. She doesn't so much walk as promenade, giving everyone a show that while older, she hasn't lost her grace or her figure.

     Watch it, I don't warn the head wizard, She's crazy.

     She promenades over, amid a cloud of ribbons. "My daughter," she trills, as she `flutters` from side to side, throwing in an occasional spin, and in front of the now entranced head wizard.

     "My dear, we should go some where private and eh, discuss our concerns." He starts to walk away, followed by the other two wizards. "Alone!" he intones, as she flutters her eyelashes at him.

     I signal to the other two as the head wizard heads off. To get some head, I think, then kick myself for the `joke`, I hung around that Jokette too long. It rubbed off on me. "We'll hash out the problem while he's occupied," I tell them as I head for the Police Station.

     The agreement is surprisingly easy to hash out, the retirement package is available off the computer. It merely takes the two of them to agree to the procedure, and the details.

STRETCHYMAID, the Elastic Pokegirl
Type: Near Human
Element: Normal
Frequency: Uncommon
Diet: jellies of varying types
Role: domestic keeper
Libido: above Average
Strong Vs: Ghost
Weak Vs: Fighting
Attacks: Hyper Slap, Leg Sweep, Sexy Hug, Bear Hug, Wrap
Enhancements: Able to do most physical attacks (e.g. Punch, Kick, Double Slap, etc.) at a distance - as well as up close
Evolves: Mercury (Heavy Metal)
Evolves From: Rubbermaid (battle stress and/or being unable to "snap back" to normal for too long)

     A Rubbermaid may evolve into a Stretchymaid when forced to hold a stretched position or when unable to 'snap' back into their original position. This is believed to mostly be a defense against serious injury from being stretched for periods of time their body cannot stand. Also, Rubbermaids may evolve into Stretchymaids during certain difficult battle conditions.

     Unfortunately, it is painfully obvious that the fastest way to get a Stretchymaid is to tether a Rubbermaid in a stretched position. This practice, whilst common, is discouraged, if not made illegal, by most pro-Pokègirl leagues.

     Strechymaids are quite similar to their Rubbermaid counterparts, but their eyes finally adapt to work similar to a humans, and so they finally look 'normal' - generally their irises are the same color as their eyes were before evolution. Their skin also changes drastically, becoming smooth and highly reflective - enough to be able to see reflections of images (although they'd be quite blurred).

     Where a Rubbermaid will snap back into shape after stretching, a Stretchymaid has no such worries - and is quite capable of keeping their bodies stretched out almost indefinitely up to three times their original length. needless to say, this allows them to wrap opponents up in devastating bear hugs and rather sensuous cuddles.

     In taming, Stretchymaids like to be tied up or tied down - usually in positions that would cripple a less flexible pokègirl. Again, like Rubbermaids, they enjoy being 'looked' after by Domina and Domina-like Pokègirls.

     In the wild, Stretchymaids favor ambush - this time waiting until someone comes close enough for them to envelop in a Wrap or Sexy-hug. Some feral Stretchymaids seem to lose some of their co-ordination and end up using their limbs like long tentacles rather than as hands or feet.

Fossils 3- StretchyMaid, Tanuki and . . . by Kelvin's Choice

     Mrs. Cameron comes charging into the Sheriff's office, wings askew, some of her ribbons no longer so crisp, but still insufferably cute. "You lied to me!"

     It doesn't help her case that the line is delivered by a petulant nine-year-old, I think. "How did I do that my dear?" I ask, "Are you looking for your mommy?"

     Suddenly she's pure saccharine coquette.

     If she had a fan, she's flutter it, I think, Disgusting. I don't know about my former taste, but this 'oh I'm helpless' act just grates on my nerves.

     "How could I stay angry at such a delightful man? But you were terribly mean," she complains, fluttering her eyelashes at me, "A concerned mother has certain rights."

     "And responsibilities, so does any adult," I reply, discarding my plan to let her `cute` herself into impotence. Better idea: cut the cord, then `cute` her into helplessness. "Your daughter made an adult's decisions," I add, "She is old enough and full-fledged as well."

     "She's too immature," she trills back, fluttering around me now, growing slightly miffed that I am immune, "She needs her mother to look out for her."

     "You sent her sisters to Breeders, when they were all younger than she is," I tell her, "I believe that she is old enough to make decisions that were made for her sisters. She was able to keep a dangerous situation under control for several months, that shows a good deal of wisdom. She is certainly mature enough."

     "She's still a child, who needs her mother," Mrs. Cameron says, a touch sharply, then she immediately bursts into tears.

     And Pharaoh hardened his heart, I think. "I can see you're too emotional to speak with her and see how she's grown." Waterworks, off, I think to myself as she immediately stops.

     "She's here?!" she demands.

     "I can telephone and see if she's available, unless you believe she can't make such a choice," I argue crisply. Got you, I think as she is caught between admitting her daughter is mature enough to make a decision, and her demand to see her.

     "A girl always wants to see her mother," she announces.

     I ignore the Sheriff's eye-roll, as well as the confused looks on the faces of the mages. I ain't who you were expecting, am I? I silently ask them. "But she has responsibilities," I remind her as I lift the handset.

     Gray answers with a distinctly unfriendly, "Yes."

     "Is she in?" I ask, expecting either an immediate affirmation or denial, not a wait and muted argument. "Very busy," I explain as I wait for Gray arguing with Red to either win or lose.

     "Is she there? Let me speak with her, I can make her see reason!" Mrs. Cameron extends a hand and demands, but it makes her seem even more immature.

     Before I can counter. "She'll meet you there," Gray tells me and hangs up.

     "She'll meet us here," I tell the others. Good idea, keeps the nest out of reach, I think.

     And we wait. Mrs. Cameron isn't good at waiting, she sends her swain out like a lackey to do as she wills, for coffee, a chair, a pillow, etc.. I see it, the Sheriff sees it, the other two mages see it.

     "Sorry," Red says as breezes in, "You caught me in the shower."

     Sounds rehearsed, I think.

     "Why didn't you tell us that?" Mrs. Cameron asks, setting her ribbons a fluttering.

     Hard to look angry surrounded by fluttering ribbons, I think, glance to Red and the now-arriving Gray, both smile back. Mrs. Cameron doesn't miss that either.

     "You kept me waiting!" Mrs. Cameron intones.

     "You didn't have to come, and you didn't have to wait," I reply evenly, earning a glare from her.

     "I'm her mother," Mrs. Cameron says.

     "And I'm her Tamer," I reply evenly, staring her down, using every bit of my height advantage. You can't stay cute and hold your line, I analyze, You'll either have to collapse into tears or concede the point.

     Tears it is, I think as Mrs. Cameron begins with the tearing eyes, and when that doesn't work, begins blubbering. "I think she's too emotional right now Red, we should go," I suggest.

     Red nods. "Yes - "

     "No!" Mrs. Cameron shouts, "How can you be so cruel?"

     "Practice and a vicious streak a myriameter wide. Not too many people can claim to have killed a Jokette all by themselves."

     Mrs. Cameron stares at me wide-eyed, then back at the sheriff, who nods. Mrs. Cameron stares at me again.

     I can practically hear her question: 'Why should my daughter go with you?' I think as I hold her gaze, She realizes she has no power over me.

     "We're going," she says, grabbing Red's hand as she passes. And suddenly she's holding the hand of a marble statue, red marble to be sure, but solid stone. Gray catches Mrs. Cameron before she either crashes to the ground or dislocates her arm. Mrs. Cameron doesn't thank her, she's too busy staring at her daughter as Red returns to her flesh and blood state.

     "No," Red tells her, "I've made my choice. I'm going with my Tamer, maybe I can save him from himself."

     Gray nods to Red, Mrs. Cameron misses it. The Farfuck'd is too intent on the calm defiance that Red is presenting, to counter any demand made on her.

     "I am going with him," Red repeats, as if she hadn't been heard.

     Good, no screaming or shouting, I want to tell her, but cannot, yet, You're in charge, let her deal with that.

     "But - "

     "No 'buts', ma'am," Red says, "Even if the law didn't compel me, I would go."

     "What have I done to encourage such . . . disrespect?" Mrs. Cameron asks angrily, the cute act discarded.

     She's being balked and she doesn't like it one little bit, I think as I watch the battle lines forming.

     "Awakened my curiosity. I've seen a little of the world, I want to see a good deal more. I want to know things I don't know now. He can take me those places, he can show me what I want to see. You can't."

     Mrs. Cameron storms out in a trail of ribbons and tears. Except an adult can ignore such histrionics, I think.

     Then notice Gray and the Sheriff have a hold of Red's bushy tail, and are dragging her back from the door by main force. I turn to the mages. "A little help here?" I ask.

     One of the junior mages gestures and the door is now a stone wall. Red stops the odd tug-of-war, and slumps.

     "Aren't you going to comfort your lady friend?" I ask the senior mage as I kneel beside Red's sitting form.

     "She's . . . a grandmother," the lead mage stammers in shock.

     So, when did you find that out? Before or after your dalliance? I wonder as I collect a tearful Red in my arms. Gray produces a brush from somewhere and begins currying Red's fur, while the now-sobbing Tanuki wraps me in a hug that would do an Ursine proud.

     "It's all right," I tell her, "It's all right. It hurts, cutting your ties, but it's what grownups do. You can visit, but on your terms, not hers, and not for a while."

     The Sheriff leads the others out of the office. I can hear the mages arguing about the contract we've signed. The lead mage isn't happy, but the negotiator points out it solves all the problems, including holding the University liable for damages. "It cost us 12 years back pay, with 7 years compound interest!" the lead bellows, destroying any quieting spell they may have used.

     Cheap at the price of implicating your Dean, I think, He was probably given the boot upstairs and buried in paperwork to keep him out of the labs. Gray and I stay this way, me holding, her brushing, until Red calms down.

     "I'm all right," Red finally says, separating herself from me, "I . . . I just want to be alone for a while."

     "You can be alone in our room, and I'm locking you in," Gray tells her with firmness, and some kindness.

     Red nods and looks around. "How do we get out?"

     I touch the `wall`, and it's a door again. "He keyed the spell to me," I explain.

     "Can he put another up?" Gray asks gently, getting a frown from Red, "You were more afraid of her than our former mistress."

     "What was that like?" I ask.

     "A lot of wild sex, and a lot of looking for Wasps and Buzzbreasts to torment, then the most Rube Goldberg-type schemes to accost them. We even badgered a Gynodose out of `our` territory," Gray told me, with a tone that warned me that the subject was closed for the moment.

     As Red and Gray leave, once Gray has made sure Mrs. Cameron isn't around. The Sheriff wanders back in and behind her desk. "They're having it copied and notarized," she says, she glances to make sure Red's out of earshot, "Interesting handling of Mrs. Cameron."

     "I don't have to live with her, I have more leeway," I tell her.

     "Still, you seem to have a gift dealing with . . . troublesome people. Those mages included."

     "The technician has the job of maintaining the equipment and setting up the labs. Including the master mage's Master's and Doctorate-level experiments. If someone wants something that's impossible, you have to do your best and soothe their hurt feelings."

     "You're remembering more?" the Sheriff asks, getting up to get some coffee.

     "It's like being reminded of things you'd forgotten," I admit, "It's weird, but I'm getting used to it."

     "Mrs. Cameron won't give up," she warns.

     "I'm not done either," I tell her.

     Gray arrives, looking pensive, even for her. "May we speak privately?" she asks and gestures towards the exit.

     "Excuse me," I tell the Sheriff as I follow Gray out into the street. We walk through the sunset on what amounts to the main drag of Darwin.

     "I have noted your discomfort with some of my abilities and practices," Gray says without preamble.

     "It's not what I'm used to," I tell her, "The two of you both seem to enjoy it." I catch her hand, stopping her, then get my arms around her petite waist. "I really like how you're built right now," I tell her, I pull her tight against me. She gives me a smile.

     "You can't divert me so easily," she tells me, "Not that I mind you trying. But I . . . I can't explain how it feels . . . tension, pressure and release, it's better than regular sex," she tells me dreamily, then grows more serious, "It doesn't hurt, I know my limits, so does Red."

     "Well, that addresses my legitimate concerns," I tell her, "I just find it . . . strange. But I also find having Pokègirls a little strange as well."

     "Maybe you just need to see it as enjoyable," Gray suggests, "Rather than as a threat to my health and safety."

     "Maybe." She's got a plan, I realize, I do trust her, and Red.

     Anyone who thinks these girls aren't . . . flexible . . . in their thinking . . . I think as I lay atop Gray's springy, inflated form, while Red straddles my hips and impales herself on my manhood, then rides up and down. Each bounce drives Gray slowly mad as the pressure bounces with Red's rhythm.

     Red goes faster, at the bottom of each stroke, pressing herself harder against me and driving me deeper into Gray's protruding belly. While Red is quiet, Gray is anything but, wanting 'faster, 'harder', 'deeper' from 'Master' or 'Mistress'. Red does her best, pressing down at the bottom of each stroke, but the two of us only weigh so much. But Gray obviously appreciates the effort, praising us while demanding more.

     She's not the only one, I think, While they reduced the impact, ha ha, on me, I'm not passive. My fingers stroking the fur on Red's sides and belly in little circular motions, enticing her to grab her breasts and begin massaging and squeezing them. Since they're out of my reach and Gray's in her own world.

     The loud 'POP!' and hissing from Gray signals Red to slow her rhythm. Not that I wanted her to, I think, feeling the tightness, almost a twisting inside me, aching for release. Instead I reach behind and stick my finger in Gray's navel.

     "More! More! Fill me Master!" Gray shrieks. Her deflation is slowing, then Red stuck a finger into each of Gray's breasts, which begin swelling. "Oh! You'll pop me! Please don't pop me!" Gray pleads, "Gonna pop soooon!"

     You're not the only one! I think as I watch Red strain to control her impulse to pump up and down frenetically until she climaxes.

     When Gray's breasts `pop`, Red resumes her more frantic rhythm, refusing to be denied now. Red's making noises now, indecipherable other than their franticness, she's practically mauling her own breasts now. She throws her head back in a soundless, tooth-baring snarl. Gray stretches past me to take over from Red, fondling and massaging Red's breasts.

     Red grabs my hands, placing them where she wants me to scratch and pinch as hard as I can. Her claws are out, but she doesn't hurt me, as she moans for 'harder', while pressing my hands deeper in her flesh.

     Her cry heralds petrification, but this time it is like a wave passing through her, no point remains stone for more than an instant. She sits atop us, luxuriating in the caresses while her vagina kneads and squeezes as if trying to milk me.

     It works, I gasp and release into her, causing Red to let out a long sibilant hiss of pleasure.

     Then she bends down, placing her hands on either side of my head, breathing on my face as she stares at me. "You're my Master now, my Master," she says, as if threatening me, daring me to contradict her.

     Instead, I stroke her cheek, "Does that mean I'm in charge?"

     "Oh absolutely!" She grins, showing me her needle sharp teeth, before she leans in and begins nibbling my neck, as her hands guide mine to her breasts, displacing Gray. As I knead them, Gray begins extending one side of herself like a wall, so she can roll us onto our sides without us falling or hurting ourselves, then she slips around Red, displacing my hands so she can massage Red's breasts again.

     I slip inside the panting Tanuki. Red says little, but claws the air in rhythm with our strokes, her teeth bared in a snarl and her breath hissing between them.

     The transition gives no warning, although this time the `petrifaction wave` flashes over her, rather than through. One moment, I'm pumping a furred flesh and blood Pokègirl, suddenly her entire body is warm marble holding tightly to me, moments later she's back, gripping and `milking` just as strongly, but furred flesh and blood again. The `milking` quickly brings me to climax, and I settle next to Red, as Gray scrambles around, to 'get her share.'

     "Do all the rooms in the Pokècenter have surveillance?" I ask as I find the Sheriff outside the bathing rooms. My robe is all I'm wearing, Red and Gray are still inside drying Red off. She watched the whole performance with all three of us without comment, I think, She's got to have something very uncomfortable to say or do, to be here so late at light.

     "I wanted to talk to you, privately," the Sheriff says as she leads me down the corridor away from where Red and Gray can overhear. "I was impressed by your handling not only Mrs. Cameron, but those mages, whoever you are. You seem to be able to handle yourself, know when to be hard, and when to be soft."

     I nod. I don't know what to say, I admit to myself.

     "Most of the Pokègirls you brought in, we've already found their owners and returned them."

     "That's good."

     "You'll be getting the rewards, which in a couple of cases are pretty substantial."

     "Always good to have enough money that you don't have to worry about it," I say, "As long as it isn't so much it creates worries of its own."

     "Well," the Sheriff says, then digs at the carpet with her toe, "What I'm going to ask is one of those things that may increase your worries. One of the families . . . " She pauses as if embarrassed. "The Tamer was killed," she explains, "They don't want one of the Pokègirls returned. And none of the Breeders around here are really set up to handle it."

     What did somebody do? I wonder, Tame a Widow and evolve her into something?

     "So, I'd like you to take her off our hands. We still have the Tamer's personal effects, so the special equipment will come with it."

     I silence all the alarms and warning bells going off throughout my mind before answering, "You're selling this a bit hard, aren't you?" I ask, "What's the problem?"

     The Sheriff mulls over answering, she sighs instead. "I think that's better shown than said. She's here at the Pokècenter."

     "Well, Red and Gray are probably almost done," I suggest, "Let me slip into something less casual, and we'll see this problem together." I head back to the bathroom to tell the girls what the Sheriff told me, and that I'll join them shortly.

     The Pokècenter's Taming rooms are getting to be old hat for me, but this one is worrisome. "No furniture, heavy doors with serious locks on the inside and the outside. Is this a Taming room or a disaster shelter?" I ask.

     Gray, back to the `grim avenger`, supplies, "The construction is typical of a Taming room for high strength Pokègirls: Amachamps, DragonQueens, Malakim, Galems . . . Mousewives," she adds the last with a completely straight face, "The holes in the walls would be the mounting points of such restraints. Their removal indicates that either no Taming is expected, or that something else is expected to function as a restraint." Gray stares at the Pokècenter's resident Megami, who shakes her head sadly.

     "There is another room set up, if that's what you want," the Megami makes it sound like an apology.

     "The Megamis' predilection for avoiding uncomfortable subjects . . . she's hiding something," Gray explains, "The equipment is both expensive and heavy. They assumed it would require replacement/repair or would serve as weapons." Nobody's happy with Gray's analysis.

     Probably due to it's accuracy, I think as I scan the shame-filled faces.

     "That could be the problem," The Megami admits.

     "I wonder how much torture is involved in getting a Megami to give a straight answer," Red comments, "Why don't you just tell us what the problem is?"

     One of the NurseJoys shrugs and puls out a Pokèball, one of the fancy-looking ones, that aren't any better than the standard model.

     "Please don't react too strongly," the Megami urges.

     We nod. "But if that's Typhonia, I'm leaving," I tell them.

     The girl materializes out of the red light. Barely a meter and a quarter tall, she looks at me, at Red, at Gray, and at the Sheriff, each with a different head.

     "A chibi Chimera," I say, professional curiosity overcoming any shock, keeping that toned down so I don't scare her is not easy. I stand and watch as the gaze from each head scans and rests on each person in the room for a moment. The girl says nothing, although the Lioness and Dragoness heads glance at each other and look away. The Billie head looks around hopefully, seems to settle on Red, the snake head seems to be gauging and measuring the people, then focuses on me.

     "So, are you my new Tamer?" it asks as contemptuously as it can.

     "That remains to be seen," I tell her, "Everyone should be in agreement."

     "Good luck," the Billie head says and shakes her head, earning frowns from the Lioness and Dragoness.

     "I take it you don't always get along," I say and get a neutral reaction from all four heads, "Do any of you know what happened to your Tamer?" The girl's hands cover the Lioness's and the Dragoness's faces. Red moves up to comfort the Billie's head. I kneel on her other side and I offer my hand's to the snake, it shakes its head, deciding to be stoic.

     "Her Tamer was stabbed by the Team Rocket types," the Sheriff says, "I'm sorry."

     "I bet the family doesn't want me," the snake says, on the verge to tears.

     I approach, this time she doesn't shy away. "Some people just can't handle anything or anyone that brings up memories of a loss," I tell her as I stroke her pate and neck.

     She yanks away from my hands. "That makes it all right?! That means I . . . " She buries her face in my hands. "I don't cause trouble. I don't try to. I don't mean to."

     I settle her into the crook of my arm and return to stroking her pate and neck. The Billie's head, traditionally the emotionless one, rests on Red's shoulder as she kneels beside the multi-headed girl.

     "If you wish, you may accompany us," I tell her. . . them.

     "Where are you going to?" the Lioness removes her hand and asks.

     "I don't really know, that's something we'll have to figure out."

     "Okay," the snake head tells me, the Billie glances and nods. The Lioness and the Dragoness heads glare at each other, look away and fold their arms.

     "Do you have a name, or should I call you something . . . " I begin.

     "He called us Bellerophant," the snake snarls.

     "I take it you each want your own names?" I ask. The first thing they all seem to agree on, I think. "I will need to call all of you together something. Perhaps you'll consider it."

     The Sheriff recalls the girl. "That went surprisingly well."

     "You were expecting a riot?" I ask, "She seemed . . . sad, but controlled."

     "It seems odd that a human male could calm her to such a degree," the Megami comments.

     Maybe because we approached the `wicked` and `emotionless` heads, rather than the `normal` and `violent` heads, I think, There might be something to consider in the future. "Did the individuals have separate names?" I ask the Sheriff and the rest of the staff.

     "Not that I know of," the Sheriff says. The Megami nods her support.

     I glance at Red and Gray. "I think she'll need some time to get used to us - "

     "Get used to you?!" a NurseJoy exclaims in shock.

     I continue, "And I need to discuss this with Red and Gray. Agreed?"

     "Reasonable," Gray comments, looks at Red, "I think someone misses her younger siblings."

     Red bares her teeth at Gray, who looks unperturbed.

     "I thought all your sisters were older," I say.

     "I didn't mention my five brothers," Red comments with a hint of disdain, "All younger than me."

     And all living off the sale of your sisters, I think, No wonder your mom wants you back, she needs someone to wait on them, and she'd have to browbeat one of the boys into working. She's already done it to you.

     Red and Gray are already heading out, presumably to our hotel room.

     Breakfast in the field behind the Pokècenter, I think as I set out the dishes, With the chibi Chimera.

     The Sheriff attends, bringing some of her own cooking.

     Why do I think she's going for an interview? I think as we lay out a smorgasbord. I watch the girl react to each of the dishes, which are each girl's favorites and which they don't like. I can imagine what it must be like with four distinct personalities, I think, All in one body. The boy was getting sex, his family would have to deal with all the difficulties, without that benefit. "Do any of you cook?" I ask.

     "Why do you assume we are not one and together?" the Lioness asks.

     "Because the way you and your nearest neighbor keep looking at each other," I reply, "If one of you said the sky was blue, the other would ask for a color chart." Both she and the Dragoness smirk at this, then see the other and look away. "Case - in - point," I tell them, embarrassing them both.

     "As to your evasion of my question," I say, "The four of you have such strong and different personalities, I made the reasonable assumption that you would also have some different skills."

     "I cook," the Billie says smiling, "Pretty good, I like it. None of the others can. Toxic."

     "Martial Arts," the snake says while above the Dragoness's head, "Sharpshooting," she adds above the Lioness's. She ignores the sour looks of the pair.

     And she won't say, I think, But I bet that's the real source of the disagreement. Try another tack. "So why haven't you returned to your larger form?" That sets something off, I realize.

     "Idiot thinks we don't need to!" the Dragoness announces and raises a fist.

     "There's no need!' the Lioness replies, bracing herself.

     "ENOUGH!" I shout as I grab their chins and twist them to face me. If they fire I'm dead, I recognize after they are facing me. "There are other ways to deal with this," I say in a quieter tone, "Sharpshooting means engaging targets at range, you both have breath weapons - "

     "She can't hit the broad side of a barn," the Lioness says, the Dragoness growls.

     "So you have to keep running away from fire-proof enemies?" I ask, "Because you can't engage them at point blank range." That nearly got me vaporized and freezer-burnt, I think as I grin at them. The laughter of the Billie and the snake defuses the situation.

     "Have you ever tried teaching her?" I ask, "Either of you."

     "End - less - ly," the Billie says in disgust, "They don't learn. Me and her - " She nods at the snake. "We learned."

     "Okay. So have you given any thought about names?" I ask.

     "Does screaming at each other count?" the Billie asks.

     "So you couldn't decide on one name for the group?" Red asks.

     "No, that we decided," the Dragoness says, the Lioness concludes, "Margarete."

     Red begins choking immediately. Orange juice spraying out of her muzzle. All four heads of the Chimera start laughing. An odd harmony.

     "Careful, he might just call you that," Gray warns, looking calm and controlled, but hiding a smile as Red's coughing and glare continue.

     "We decided to let you name us," the snake says.

     "Okay." I point at the Billie head and begin, "April, May, June, Summer, and collectively, Forseti, after the Norse god of Justice."

     "I did warn you," Gray says, shaking her head.

     "Good enough," the snake, Summer laughs.

     "What's so funny?" the Dragoness, June asks, cranes her neck to look at Summer, the snake.

     "Forseti is a boy!" Summer barely gets out before collapsing on the grass, rolling around laughing.

     "Lovely," May, the Lioness says.

     "Can we hurt him now?" June asks.

The Harem

Red - Tanuki

Gray - StretchyMaid

Forseti - chibi Chimera
April - Billie head
May - Lioness head
June - Dragoness head
Summer - Snake head

TANUKI, the Playful Raccoon Pokegirl
Type: Anthropomorph (raccoon)
Element: Normal
Frequency: Common (in Edo League)
Diet: omnivore, preference for fruits and vegetables
Role: domesticated pokegirl
Libido: Average
Strong Vs: Ghost, mouse pokegirls, bird pokegirls
Weak Vs: Fighting, cat pokegirls
Attacks: Scratch, Bite, Leap, Tackle, Turn Stone
Enhancements: Quickness, Enhanced sense of hearing and smell, Can transform into stone (statue-like) at will.
Evolves: None
Evolves From: None

     The Tanuki, or Raccoon pokegirl, is a common form for girls going through Threshold, especially in the Edo League. Their fur is the usual color of the pre-Sukebe creature known as raccoon.
     Unlike Kitsunes, which are very mischievous and very clever, a Tanuki is more playful and troublesome, and like Kitsunes they are that way without any sort of malicious intent whatsoever.
     A Tanuki has, along with her usual attacks which are very much like the ones from a Kitsune, an extra power which makes her a 'part Rock type' pokegirl even though she isn't.
     A Tanuki can transform her body into a stone, looking very much like a statue. In said form they are more resistant than a Damsel, but they cannot move until they transform back to their normal forms.
     Tanuki's hold a rivalry with Kitsunes, maybe since they share similar abilities and tendencies.
     (Note: The name is taken from the Japanese raccoon spirit, which are considered troublesome and playful. In Japanese culture, the fox spirit, Kitsune, and the raccoon spirit, Tanuki, are rivals.)

Fossils 4 - Chibi Chimera by Kelvins Choice

     Walking through the wilderness.

     "We're lost," June, the Dragoness head of our chibi Chimera wails.

     Wanting to fight something, I mentally translate.

     "We aren't lost," I reply, "We can't be lost."

     "How do you figure that?" April, the Billie head of Forseti asks incredulously.

     "We're on Earth, in the Sunshine League, that's as precise a location as we need since we aren't going anywhere specific, we can't be lost."

     "So, because we don't really care where we're going," Gray adds, "We can't be lost."

     "We could always turn around and go back," Summer the snake-like head suggests, "Not that I want to. You're just bored."

     "Of course I'm bored I - "

     Forseti freezes: April, May, June and Summer fall silent and scan the surroundings, each taking a different quadrant. Red and Gray take the hint and melt into the woods to act as ambushers. We don't have long to wait.

     "Ha!" the young man in the leather jacket announces intelligently as he comes charging down the path towards us. An Amazon-chan, a FireMaiden and an Arachnae following close behind. An exhausted Rapitaur absolutely piled high and loaded down with supplies, waddles at the rear. "I challenge you to battle for your Chimera!" he pants, clearly out of breath, "Using - "

     "WAAAAAHHHH!" Forseti wails in a four-part, extremely grating disharmony, "He's going to STEAL us and RAPE us Grandfather!" She latches onto my leg and continues to wail like a quartet of unsynchronized sirens. "WAAAHHH!!!"

     "Ah HA!" I shout, advancing awkwardly on the boy, the clinging Chimera's weight throwing me off-balance, "I caught the Pokèkit molester!" I shout, "There's a big reward for you! Dead or Alive, isn't that nice?"

     He's stunned by my off-script reaction, so are his Pokègirls. He turns and I snag the collar of his jacket.

     "Don't run away!" I scream in his ear as loud as I can, "When I was young, criminals respected their elders. Boys like you were in school, not accosting underage girls," I shout, "What do you say to that?"

     "I'm not - "

     "Shut up when I'm talking!" I slap him on the head. "Didn't your parents teach you manners? In my day we didn't attack feeble old grandfathers out for a midday constitutional," I yell, lift him slightly off the ground by his jacket collar and shake him. "Poor, old, helpless people just trying to get by in a cruel world. Why when I was young, I had to walk through snow over my head just to get to school, and I was glad of it! No fancy boots or shoes either!"

     The boy's steadily growing horror culminates in abandoning his jacket to go tearing down the path, passing the Rapitaur and building up speed.

     "And it weren't no flat, easy path!" I yell after him, "It was uphill!"

     "Both ways," April says in a dread filled tone. Forseti is waving off the Pokègirls to get while the getting is good. "Through the blazing sun!"

     The Amazon-chan bows and takes to her heels.

     "How could there be blazing sun and snow-covered fields?" the Arachnae asks.

     The FireMaiden grabs her hand and drags her away. "Sorry!"

     "If you don't know! You kids have it too easy these days," I shout at them shaking my fists. The FireMaiden redoubles her speed.

     All is quiet for a few moments, then Red and Gray fall out of their hiding places, laughing. All four of Forseti's heads join in.

     "Poor guy, he looked like Typhonia had caught him!" Summer manages between gasps.

     "You're worse than the Jokette!" Gray announces as she gets her laughter under control.

     "I think we head off the trail in case he comes back," I say, although none of the girls are through laughing themselves sick. It wasn't that funny! I think. I hold up the jacket the boy skinned out of. "Does anyone want a leather jacket? It's too small for me."

     "It's too big in this form, and too small in my adult form," June says.

     "It will only fit Gray," May adds.

     Good to see you two working together, I think as I toss the jacket to our StretchyMaid.

     "It's too hot," Gray says, "I'd also like to have it cleaned first." She slung the jacket atop her pack.

     We cut across country. Now I pull the map, I think as I check the compass and the map. We found another trail a short distance through the woods.

     "Huh," June comments, "I thought you didn't know where we were."

     "I didn't care where we were," I explain, "I do now."

     She nods and we walk for a distance, then find the trail. I'd hoped to reach the camp site on the other trail, this one has a site too close and the next is too far to make before night fall, I consider the map, Red and Forseti might be able to navigate by starlight, but I can't and I doubt Gray can. So we stop early.

     Just outside the camp, we found another problem. A boy and girl stood some distance from the actual campground.

     " 'ey!" the boy says, with a lazy tone, the girl clearly unhappy with the boy's hands on her, "That's my man's Josh's jacket!" He advances with his hand extended, as if refusal was unthinkable. The girl withdrew and rearranged her more raggety, patched clothes, looking disgusted and ashamed. The boy approaches Gray.

     "I grab his collar. "GAAH!" I shout loudly as I release him, "Boy! Do you bathe regularly? Egads! Boy! Where's your pride, where's your deodorant?!" I shout at him as I advance.

     "What are you talking about you crazy ole' man!" the boy backs away from me in shock.

     "Hy - genie!" I shout, "Making you not . . . stink like you do." I wave my hand in front of my face.

     "Did he die?" Summer asks happily, "He smells like he died! Can we eat him if he's dead?"

     The boy looks from me to Forseti in shock.

     "Well, Grandfather?" Gray asks.

     His mouth is open.

     "Nobody will miss him," Gray concludes.

     The boy's shocked retreat rapidly builds speed.

     "Run through a river while you're at it!" I shout as he heads away.

     "Um, excuse me," the girl says, one hand up as if she were in school, "May I thank you and ask you a question?"

     Red and Gray broke the tension by bursting out laughing.

     "They aren't laughing at you," I explain, "They are laughing at me."

     "Oh," the girl visibly relaxes, "Well, what are you and you . . . kids?"

     "No, they're my Pokègirls," I tell her, getting a very strange look from her, "Yes, I'm old. I'm also retired, so I can travel."

     "Oh," she says, seemingly getting smaller and younger as she stands there, layers of defensiveness dropping away as she glances from one person to the other. Another girl steps out of the woods and stares at us. She's dressed like a Domina, her brief skin-tight, lace-up one-piece shows off her decadently-stacked figure, but her dead expression tells me that's not her breed. Use the stupid 'dex! I remind myself, I just like to figure it out myself!

     She points to the newcomer. "My next-door neighbor, Sally."

     The Pokèdex identifies the girl as a Fallen Angel, she doesn't smile, but she looks at us. No flicker of interest or disgust. As if we're furniture in a room she hasn't seen and doesn't intend to spend much time in.

     That explains a lot, I think, Girl on the run and a Threshold into a Fallen Angel. "Who hit your village?"

     The girl frowns. "Not who, what. I was off in the next village. When I came back, it was like something had stomped on the place. I didn't find anybody else alive, so I scavenged what I could and took off."

     "Did you tell the authorities?" I ask. The mages would be all over that place, I think, That's their kind of mystery.

     "Yeah. They took my statement, poked around and tried to send me and my sister to live with my aunt. I got my Tamer's license, and headed out."

     "I'm NOT that kind of girl!" she shouts defensively, then collects herself, "It's just that they . . . didn't have anybody else and I . . . well, better me than these two jerks who were hitting on me."

     "I met the other one earlier," I tell her.

     "I heard," she says, gives a wan smile, so does Sally. "Scared the crap out of him."

     "Language," I say quietly. She's looking for a father figure right now, not a sugar daddy, I realize. "You said 'sister', and Sally is your next-door neighbor. Where is your sister?"

     She glances down, staring at her feet while she pulls a Pokèball from her belt. "Threshold."

     And the reason you tolerated those two `gentlemen` is because even though you love your sister, you aren't fond of the idea of Taming her, especially since you are 'not that kind of girl', I consider. "Can we meet her?" I ask, "Your sister?"

     She looks at her feet some more, trying to decide. Then she thumbs the release. The red-haired, jet-black figure would be obvious even without the glowing white eyes.

     "NightMare," someone murmurs.

     I'm not certain it wasn't me, I think. The white, glowing eyes and demonic grin pass over one person to another, seeming to look to their very core. I'm the only one who can hold my gaze. She makes a more pleasant grin at that. She giggles distressingly when she looks at Red and Gray, then looks at me and truly laughs.

     The girl is about to recall her, I hold up a hand. "Let her go, we could all use a laugh," I say quietly. The girl nods.

     "You - don't - see - it- ?" the NightMare manages between laughs.

     "Perhaps I do, but I would like you to explain it to the others," I say.

     "Them." She gestures at Red and Gray. "I don't know who is madder, them, or you for keeping them."

     "Probably me," I admit flatly, "Although they have to put up with me, so it might be a toss up."

     When she laughs this time, it is with real mirth. Her sister manages a smile, the Fallen Angel even manages to quit frowning for a moment.

     "So where are you headed?" I direct the question at the human girl who still hasn't volunteered her name.

     "I dunno. Away from where I grew up."

     "We follow the Being of Forever Darkness," the NightMare intones. The rest of the girls shiver.

     "I've heard that name before," I say as a memory is triggered. Not surprising that it relates back to an experiment I had to set up, I remember. "Okay, that sounds like a life-long goal. So you're just drifting right now?"

     "Yeah, that's how I met those two. Exactly the kind of guys my mother always warned me about." Her breakdown is unexpected, at least by me. Red is at her side cradling her before the girl's knees touch the ground. Speaking of people who went to extremes to avoid bad situations, I think, then watch Gray approach the Fallen Angel. The dueling 'I'm a bigger outsider and therefore cooler than you', poses are a trifle ridiculous, there is little sillier that two people desperately competing to prove they care less about what the other person thinks about them and their surroundings. But I think Gray wants a new playmate, I consider, There's a method to her madness, and of course Sally will have to 'put Gray in her place', so Gray wins that round.

     I look around the campsite, one small backpack, no tent, no supplies. And there's the other reason she attached herself, I realize, She had inadequate supplies. There's a lot more to this than she's telling us. "You are welcome to travel with us. I think we should be setting up our tents and cookfire."

     "I can cook," the girl volunteers.

     "We'll see about that," April says, challenging, but smiling.

     "What do you want to be called? The Fallen Angel is Sally, the NightMare is you sister, but I don't know who you are," I say.

     "I'm Rebecca, my sister is Sarah," the girl says.

     "Okay, Rebecca . . . is it 'Rebecca', not Becky or something else?"

     "My brother used to call me 'Reb', since I always did what my parents said," she admits, then buries her face in Red's soft fur.

     Red croons a little song while holding and rocking the girl.

     "All right! Old man!" the boy and his friend Josh come charging in, with their Pokègirls behind them, "You're going to get yours!"

     The Amazon-chan gets hit by a firebolt, the FireMaiden takes an icebolt in the face, the Arachnae gets a poison blast, and a lightning bolt detonates a tree some distance behind the line.

     "I told you she couldn't shoot!" May complains about June's `marksmanship`.

     The Amazon-chan is a shrieking, flaming spectre. April's icebolt extinguishes her and renders her unconscious. The FireMaiden is already on the ground. The Arachnae is staring off into space with an intent expression, effectively neutralized.

     The two boys are utterly stunned, staring at Forseti, who is lining up on them.

     "Make sure you aim at our Master, June-dear," May tells her, "It will make it safe for him."

     "Why don't we tear them apart hand-to-hand?" June asks, her clawed hands seemingly grasping the boys and miming tearing them apart. The `little` Chimera is not cute.

     The two boys shriek louder and higher than the Amazon-chan had, and run off at their best speed, knocking over the poor, overloaded Rapitaur in their passing.

     "That means we salvage the battlefield!" I shout after them, going over to the still smoldering Amazon-chan who is now staring at her rapidly departing ex-Masters. I pour my canteen on the parts that are still smoking. I also pull a healing potion from a belt pouch. "Here, you look like you need it."

     "Your Chimera - " she says then downs the potion, " - is strong." The Amazon-chan falls over backward, unconscious.

     The FireMaiden is slowly getting to her feet, looking very worried at the smiling chibi Chimera. The Arachnae keeps scrutinizing things only she can see, and giggling.

     Red, Gray and Sally close in on the Rapitaur who is lying very still and whimpering.

     "Don't move," I order. I'm no horse expert, but I do know a broken leg when I see one, I think. "Get the pack off her and see if there's anything to keep her warm."

     The Fallen Angel pushes me aside in an unfriendly, but business-like manner. "This will hurt," she tells the Rapitaur , who nods then yelps as the Fallen Angel resets the leg and heals it. She looks back at me, not quite hatefully, "I despise suffering in others," she states as she stands and marches off.

     Red has finished removing the packs from the Rapitaur, and tries to stand with them in hand, staggering under the load. "What did they do? Make you carry everything? Including their rock collections?"

     "Yes," the Rapitaur says, as she tries to stand.

     "Stay down. You still need to rest." I glance at where she's lying. We can build the camp around you."

     "Thank you." She pulls the blanket Red has fished out of the pack over herself. "Their Pokèballs are in there," she says with a mischievous grin, "They did abandon the field."

     "Before our NightMare and Fallen Angel could enter the fray," Red comments, staring at me.

     Ah, our new friend's anger is she didn't get to `play`, I think, then raise my voice, "Okay, we'll set up camp here, we've got wounded, and that pair are going to realize they left without any supplies. They'll probably sneak back in to do some mischief. We should have someone to greet then. Any - ?"

     Both Sally and Sarah put up their hands, stretching to raise theirs higher.

     "Okay, who else? Not you Forseti," I tell her, although only May and Summer seem eager. June still seems down that she missed her shot and her `sisters` all knew she would, even while they made theirs. "Reb, you take the first watch with Sarah and Red, I'll take the second with Gray and Sally. Agreed?" They nod, except May and Summer.

     "What's wrong with US?" they chorus.

     "You had your chance," I tell her, "Besides, I don't expect you to stay out of the fight, just let someone else have some fun."

     "And when you are dead-tired tomorrow," April counters reasonably,"How do we get to town before them? You know they'll hoof it to town and claim we're thieves."

     "We carry them, silly," Sarah tells her, "Even the Graybeard is lighter than what they loaded the Rapitaur down with. So you race them back, while the others tramp along behind."

     "Sounds good," the Rapitaur say as a squad tent goes up around her, Gray flattens herself to slip beneath and lift up the Rapitaur as the tent's `floor` goes under them both.

     Reb and April start dinner, three separate dinners. Set on the fire with water added are Pokèchow with canned meats, Pokèchow with dried fruit, while April grinds more Pokèchow in a mortar and pestle for Gray.

     "You are pretty good," April says, while Summer is rooting around inside the food bags the boys left behind.

     "Mrlft!" Summer says as she shows the packages of hot spices she'd pulled out of the packs.

     "Thank you, but not for everyone," April tells her, "And only a little for you, we all have to share the same stomach, and the same heartburn."

     Summer frowns and slides back into the pack to inventory anything else. "Cookies."

     "DON'T EAT THOSE!" Reb shoots to her feet and shouts, frightening me and Forseti, "They're joke cookies, they . . . well, they aren't really funny if you aren't expecting it."

     "What do they do?" Summer asks, maneuvering her hidden ears near Reb's mouth.

     Reb whispers to Summer. April, June and May all suddenly look shocked. "Really?" all four ask. Reb nods, then all four heads look at me. "Would you like a cookie for dessert?"

     "I think I'm going to check up on the others," I excuse myself with their laughter ringing in my ears. The joking sparks a memory of what someone had `spiked` the punch with, at a formal dance, with a lot of parents and League officials in attendance. I wonder if anyone found all the pieces of that `clever` young lady, I question my spotty memory about the miscreant, Senior officials have very little humor about such things. Especially when they help themselves to other people's wives and husbands in public.

     I move around, checking on the others. All of them seem leery, but getting to know each other. The Arachnae and the Amazon-chan seem to be getting on well with the others. The Amazon-chan watches Red go through a few Karate moves, making subtle corrections and suggestions. The FireMaiden is a concern, she seems to be avoiding both Dark types and Forseti.

     "Problems?" I ask as I approach.

     Her fearful stare stops me a short distance away. "I never lost before," she admits, "I had a lot of experience as a Feral, but I was taken into a family and . . . sold. He bought me and we won a few battles, the Arachnae was one, usually it was for money, his buddy lost his girls. But I never lost, until now, and so fast."

     "You never faced a Chimera. I suspect that Forseti has a lot more experience than she lets on," I tell her.

     "Yes," she agrees.

     Dinner is quiet. The friendships and rivalries are beginning to form, I see for myself, But they aren't unfriendly rivalries. That's good.

     Vague compliments about the cooking, Gray ladling some of the fruit broth onto her powder, then meat broth. Others sampling whichever of the two dishes appealed: meat or fruit.

     The trio of the guards took up their positions as the others slipped into the three squad tents.

     It's clear that while Red and Sarah are on guard, Gray and Sally are going to work out their differences and similarities in another tent, I think as I slip into the tent with the recovering Rapitaur in it, and all the supplies, leaving insufficient room for any Taming. I need the sleep, I think, I'll take Forseti to town with the four, and leave Reb here to get them moving along the trail. We can decide who is in whose Harem later, I think, as the Rapitaur slips in beside me and cuddles up, still in her centaur-form, So she isn't interested in Taming, or she prefers it in her centaur form.

     Gray begins moaning immediately, showing that Sally knows her stuff. At least as far as the StretchyMaid is concerned. The sound isn't quite enough to keep me awake, nor are the little touches and murmurs from the Rapitaur. Too early, Reb is shaking me awake.

     "Okay, midnight," she says.

     "In the morning, I'll take Forseti to make our claim, and Sally to drop off enough supplies to make sure they don't do something desperate for lack of food, water or shelter."

     "Okay," Reb says among her yawns, "But give them the heaviest, that's all my sense of justice requires."

     "If you need to, sleep late, I'll push off at first light, you and the others can sleep in and pack up. If you don't mind a late start."

     "No problem," she says, as I step out into the chill night. Sally definitely looks like the cat that ate the canary, and Gray makes it clear the canary was a vorophile.

     "I hope you two didn't exhaust each other, because Sally's going to have a long day ahead of her."

     "I can handle it," the Fallen Angel says. Gray looks like she wants another go at exhausting the arrogant Pokègirl.

     I'm glad they are pairing up, I only hope the new bonds don't sever the old ones, I think.

     "I heard," Sally says, "I hope you don't mind me not keeping up, but I do wish you'd let me drop it straight on their heads."

     "No, but if they attack during the night, a good beating will do them some good."

     "Agreed." Sally moves out.

     Where the campfire doesn't affect your night vision, I think as I move away from the fire as well, letting my eyes acclimate and my hearing take over.

     As the night wears on, I hear the rustle and snap of underbrush. No Feral would make that much noise, I think, She'd make a lot less, or a lot more. I freeze and wait.

     "Hey man, watch where you're grabbing," says a familiar voice.

     I shake my head and realize they are coming approximately towards me. Oh good grief! I think as I hear the others moving towards me.

     "OY!" I say in my best, read terrible, Orange Island accent, "I slit their throats, did you kill the sentries?"

     I hear them freeze.

     "Oy! Killa, Dog Botherer, that you?" I demand, "Sound off!"

     " 'ere, mate" the Fallen Angel calls out trying to sound like a man.

     "Kin we eat'em?" Gray asks in a high-pitched, wavering voice, like a ghost or a mad woman.

     Gives me the shivers. I can practically hear and smell them pissing themselves, I think.

     "Dog Botherer. If these luggers ain't us, then who is they then?"

     "Let's eat'em." Sends further chilblains through me.

     That's enough, I think as the pair take off into the darkness. The two Pokègirls don't laugh until we can't hear them smashing through the brush anymore.

     Their screams and shouts recede and we laugh. Gray's is hardly as chilling as the voice she had used.

     "I think we'd better head out first thing in the morning," Sally suggests, "At that rate, they'll reach a town before we can, no matter where on Earth it is."

     "Agreed, first light. I'd rather not fly in the dark. Although I bet it doesn't bother you and Forseti too much." I listen. "I thought that Red and Sarah would be louder."

     "I think they fell asleep," Gray intones as she heads back to her section of the perimeter, "Understandable, they had little to do."

     "Very well," I say, "Who won?"

     "I did!" both insist as they head to their sectors.

     "Good," I reply, "I'm glad you agree." I can't see their faces, and I survive the next few minutes, so they can't be too angry.

     The first light has me flying through the air, Forseti is in her adult-form as she carries me. Far behind and falling further behind by the minute is Sally. The Fallen Angel cannot keep up, with the load she carries.

     "You think 'Reb' won't abscond with all the Pokègirls and the supplies?" Summer asks, causing trouble.

     "No, not with Red and Gray watching over her," I reply, "You might egg her on, but I think that she desperately wants people around her."

     "One man in particular," May suggests, the Lioness head is too straightforward to be good at teasing.

     Another thing I should be worried about, I think, She doesn't want to be thought of as a lesbian, but she also wants someone to share her bed at night. And someone else to be the leader.

     "Hey sniper!" June says, "We've got company."

     I look between Forseti's heads at where the Dragoness is looking. A trio of Buzzbreasts are closing on us, over a dozen are heading towards Sally.

     "Can you engage at this distance?" I ask.

     "I'll take the flying," June says, "You take the shooting."

     I hide my smile that the various heads are getting along better. At least when it really matters, I think, Like any siblings. They might love each other, but they don't necessarily like each other.

     "Engaging at maximum range," May tells us, as she and June fire together, April fires a moment later. The three near us go down. As we charge the other mob, I shout to Summer, "Keep a lookout behind us. It may be a trap." I can't hear her response over the wind noise as she scans our `6`, and our 4 through 8.

     May's and June's heads continue firing, with April hitting the targets that May and June have already hit, and are still airborne. Overheat, then supercool, I think as the Buzzbreasts drop out of the sky. Once the sky is clear, we head out. Before we're too far away, Sally swoops down and releases her burden like a skip-bomber. Zooming away, she immediately races after us.

     "Found 'em," she tells us, "Dropped the goods on the dry stream shore, they will get the stuff. Once they quit falling down."

     "Falling?" I ask.

     "Yeah, rather than accept they're soaked, they keep walking on algae-covered rocks . . . "

     "And falling in," Summer completes the thought, laughing.

     I smirk myself. "Well, do you want to head back, or keep up with is?" I ask.

     "With you," Sally says, "If you don't mind, Reb should have Jamie and Toni."

     "Which are those?" I ask. They never gave me their names, I think.

     "The Arachnae and the FireMaiden, respectively," Sally tells us, "The Rapitaur and the Amazon-chan are Karrie and Lian."

     "Karrie, ha ha, they certainly made her live up to her name."

     "Well?" Reb asks as Forseti, Sally and I land.

     "They got their gear," I tell her as I hand her Jamie's and Toni's Pokèballs, "They're yours. Karrie and Lian are mine, is that acceptable? To all of you?"

     Everyone seems to accept that.

     Reb seems delighted. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She envelopes me in a hug.

     "You're welcome," I tell her.

The Tamers

Simon Carver
Rebecca 'Reb' Cooper


The Harem

Red - Tanuki
Gray - StretchyMaid

Forseti - chibi Chimera
April - Billie head
May - Lioness head
June - Dragoness head
Summer - Snake head

Sally - Fallen Angel
Sarah - NightMare
Karrie - Rapitaur
Lian - Amazon-chan
Jamie - Arachnae
Toni - FireMaiden


CHIBI CHIMERA, the Lolita Dark Child Of Hy-Bra PokéGirl
Type: Inhuman, Metamorph (avian/feline/draconic/serpentine/capran)
Element: Flying/Magic
Frequency: Very Rare
Diet: Human-style
Role: being cute, Warfare
Libido: Low
Strong Vs: Bug, Fighting, Plant, mouse PokéGirls
Weak Vs: Electric, Ghost, Psychic
Attacks: Crushing Punch, Mega Punch, Crunch, Takedown, Wingover, Flame Breath, Thunder Breath, Ice Breath, Poison Breath, Cheer, Sleep, Aura of Cute
Enhancements: Flight, Elemental breath powers, Enhanced Strength x26, Enhanced hearing, Night vision, Stamina x7, Awareness of surroundings, Switch Forms
Limitations: Unstable multiple personalities; most Chimeras go insane
Evolves: None
Evolves From: Griffon (Hy-Bra's blessing or Sexmet's curse)
Bounty (for successful capture & taming): 900,000 SLC (applies to ferals only)
Bounty (for confirmed kill): 855,000 SLC (applies to ferals only)
Bounty (for reporting sighting & getting out alive): 300,000 SLC (applies to ferals only)
Recommendation if you see one: Try to have a strong psychic-type Pokegirl on hand to knock out the Chimera. Otherwise evacuate the area at once. Note: If it is found out that the Chimera was a tamed one allowed to go Feral on purpose, punishments will be SEVERE. (applies to ferals only)

     For the light there is always darkness, so too is it with Pokègirls.

     Chimeras can easily be considered the dark sisters of the Sphinx, as they shared both element-type and strengths and weaknesses, and both appeared at around the same time, sometimes working together. Frequently they were seen with the mad, multi-headed Hy-Bra, and were employed as her retainers. Rumors persist that Sukebe created the Chimeras solely to divert Hy-Bra's attention from usurping him by giving her servants/lovers that were similar to her, Hy-Bra discovering soon after that she could change Griffons into Chimeras with her powers. However with Hy-Bra's rapidly declining sanity as well as their own, Chimeras degenerated into savage, vicious fighters that attacked both human settlements and Pokègirl encampments. In the end, Legendaries such as Macavity, Titania, and Atmuff took direct action against the Chimeras, reducing their numbers greatly, Atmuff doing far more damage to the breed than anyone else. Some have theorized that this is one of the reasons Hy-Bra was foolish enough to attack Atmuff directly.

     All Pokègirls go through three distinct stages of life: immaturity, when they have yet to feel any sort of sexual desires, Pokègirlhood, when they go through puberty and develop a powerful set of hormones, but can`t have children save for parthenogenesis, and Pokèwomonhood, when their hormones ease up some, and they are able to truly have children. A Chibi Pokègirl is something of a mix, the result of being affected by strange magic while still in the womb.

     A Chibi Pokègirl is one who`s mother was hit with a Magic-type attack while pregnant. Although it certainly wasn't the intent of the attack, the magic had an odd effect on the gestating Pokègirl. The effect isn't seen until years later however. These Pokègirls look and act normal until the first time they are Tamed. As soon as the Pokègirl loses her virginity, a strange thing happens, her body instantly physically regresses to that of a child, roughly ten years old or so. Interestingly, it seems that Pokègirls with the Youthful enhancement, such as Shadowgirls or Dracasses, can`t be subjected to this state, and can never become a Chibi Pokègirl.

     In this form, the Chibi Pokègirl has no hair between her legs, and her breasts are virtually gone, leaving her as flat as a board (though some extremely busty Pokègirls now have A-cup breasts). She loses quite a bit of height as well. All other factors remain the same though. The Chibi Pokègirl loses no attacks or enhancements, and she is still as lusty as ever.

     Chibi Pokègirls can take their previous, mature form again, but doing so requires a passive form of concentration. Things that take up their entire mindset, such as an extremely tense fight, or heated Taming, can cause her to shift back to her younger form. She always shifts to her younger form when sleeping as well. Markings, such as tattoos or wounds, remain as normal in either form. Furthermore, this condition remains despite any evolutions undergone, with the Chibi Pokègirl now reverting to a child form of her new evolution (i.e. A Chibi Catgirl who evolves into a Chibi Tigress will now be able to change into a child Tigress form). Chibi Pokègirls are exceptions to the laws about underage Pokègirls not being allowed to be Tamed. Usually a simple demonstration of their ability to change back and forth is enough for most officials. A Chibi Pokègirl herself usually prefers her older form, since it tends to be sexier, but doesn't mind fighting, relaxing, or even Taming in her younger body either.

     Chimeras were massive, frightening Pokègirls. Their bodies were very muscular, being 7 feet tall and possessing large, batlike wings, FF-cup breasts, wide shoulders, thick claws, greyish-red fur, and multiple heads. And those heads were the true fear factor of the Chimera.

     The primary head was similar to that of a Lioness. It was in the center, between the other two primary heads, and was the lead personality the majority of the time. It could breath fire. To the left of the Lioness head was a head similar to a Dragoness. That head possessed the most violent personality and, if the Chimera was left unchecked, the personality that took control most often. It possessed a lightning breath weapon. To the right of the Lioness head was a goatlike head, similar to a Billie. This head possesses a cold, emotionless personality and has an ice breath weapon. The persona of the goat-head rarely took over, save for when the Chimera was suffering from severe emotional distress or after the Chimera went fully insane. The final head was actually part of the tail. A Pre-Sukebe snake functions as the tail of the Chimera, but also acts as a fourth head, complete with another persona (a cunning, wicked one), and a breath weapon, a poisonous one. They are massive, powerful Pokègirls and are among the most dangerous out there, seconded only by the Widow and Mantis, mainly because the Chimeras are more controllable than the other two.

     In combat, a Chibi Pokègirl follows the same pattern that a normal Pokègirl of her breed would. Recent research has concluded though that a Chibi Pokègirl of any breed has the Cheer, Sleep, and Aura of Cute. These attacks tend to be used in the Chibi Pokègirl`s younger form, but can be utilized at any time by the Chibi Pokègirl. They are thought to be remnants of the magic that altered her state so long ago.

     The four personalities of a Chimera are usually in great conflict, the four heads sometimes seen arguing with each other, but a patient Tamer can keep control of them, usually with the help of a Domina-type Pokègirl. They are best Tamed using Amachamp-level restraints, which are thankfully becoming cheaper. Some of the very rare Chimera tamers even report having a long, healthy relationship with their Chimeras, lasting many years, although they admit that it took a lot of love and a lot of patience to get as far as they have. Tragically, however, Chimeras are also employed by Team Rocket-style groups, who purposely abuse them into insanity and use them in gladiatorial combat.

     Chibi Pokègirls continue to age normally in their mature form, becoming Pokèwomen, and then becoming old. However, their youthful form remains at the same apparent physical age always, and as time passes a Chibi Pokègirl wants to spend more and more time in her younger state, since it remains physically vibrant. However, while that form doesn't feel the aches and pains of old age that her natural form would, when a Chibi Pokègirl`s time is up, she still dies of natural causes, no matter what form she is in. When they die, Chibi Pokègirls always revert to their older form, a point of contention among Pokègirl Researchers.

     Chibi Pokègirls' ability to bear offspring is regulated by their true age. After their first puberty, they are subject to possibly undergoing parthenogenesis, whatever form their in. Once they undergo their second puberty, they are capable of giving birth to children, again, in either form. Shifting forms doesn't cause complications with the pregnancy, but it is less painful for the Chibi Pokègirl to remain in her older form during this time. Since they naturally revert to their child form during sleep, a pregnant Chibi Pokègirl tends to stay up for days at a time. Giving birth is sometimes so painful that they lose their concentration and shift back to their child form, causing even more pain for them as they struggle to bring their young into the world. Unless she was herself hit with a magical attack while pregnant, none of her Pokègirl children have a chance of becoming a Chibi Pokègirl.

     Feral Chibi Pokègirls revert to their childish form. This causes them to look like an immature Feralborn Pokègirl of their type. Since immature Feralborn Pokègirls are usually cared for by their mother until they hit puberty, finding one alone may be a clue that it is, in fact, a Feral Chibi Pokègirl. Most people don`t realize that the young Pokègirl they`ve found though is legally Tameable, and Feral Chibi Pokègirls tend to stay Feral for a long time since no one wants to risk Taming an underage Pokègirl. Threshold girls can never become a Chibi Pokègirl, or so the Researchers say, since they can only be born. So far, no case of Threshold has disproven this.

     Chimeras, after Hy-Bra's death, slowly disappeared, the damage Atmuff doing seemingly having driven them into extinction. However Chimeras experienced something of a resurgence after an incident involving Sexmet. A year after the first Widow attack, several Team Rocket members, half of them with Griffons in their harem, attacked Sexmet and Bastit. The Rocket Tamers and the majority of their Pokègirls were slaughtered by Sexmet, but not before Bastit was severely injured. In a rage, Sexmet cursed the Griffons, turning them into Chimeras. Since then, their numbers have risen so that they are in less danger of extinction than Sphinxes, but not by much.

     No threshold cases of turning into a Chimera have been reported.