Post by Cai on Apr 15, 2014 12:04:58 GMT -5
Finn arrived in Corsair Cove on a hot dusty Friday afternoon. His bike, just about out of gas and rattling ominously, was on its last legs and had nearly given out completely somewhere in the desert, but he had manged to push it to a lonely outskirt station where he borrowed some tools to do a patch job which just about got him the rest of the way. He was hot, tired, thirsty and speckled all over with sand, but he was filled with the dark fire of motivation, his almost obsessive quest the thing that kept him going. He had to find Amy.
He was here because of a tip-off from a shrewd old woman in Kepa City. She had had dark hair streaked with grey, and eyes sharper than cut glass which surveyed him coldly when she scoured the photograph. Then, she had smiled, and named the price of her memories. Finn did not think she was lying, but she had extorted Finn for a precious tidbit of information, costing him dearly in credits he did not have in abundance. The price would have been double what he paid, but a brief, aggressive shove against a wall had had the woman hatefully lowering her demands. Finn felt a stab of guilt at treating a woman in such a way, but needs must. It had got him here, and was the only lead he had had on Amy for the past three years.
He sighed and let his Buizel out of her Pokéball, and she looked up at him with a hoarse cry. "Buizel!"
Finn reached down to pat her sleek head. "I know you're thirsty," he said, licking his own dry lips. "But we've got to search for Amy." But he looked at Buizel's pitiful expression and sighed, glancing about him. A lopsided sign swung outside a battered-looking building, a vibrant purple flower in a beer glass sitting above the words 'Monkshood Bar'. Finn shrugged.
"Doubt it'll get much better than that, B," he said, glancing down at Buizel, who looked distinctly unconvinced. Finn pushed open the door of the bar and peered in, instantly struck by the overpowering scent of alcohol, smoke and something acrid he did not care to think about for too long. He bent and scooped up Buizel, putting her around his shoulders so she did not get trampled underfoot in the busy bar.
"What'll it be?" came the smooth voice of the blonde woman behind the bar. She was tall and beautiful but the no-nonsense look in her sharp blue eyes let Finn know she was no pushover immediately. He knew the type of girl to be charmed easily. He knew the type of girl who couldn't say no to anyone. This woman was neither of those, and he knew when to avoid trouble.
"Just a white soda. And a pitcher of water for my Pokémon, please," Finn said, handing over a few coins. The woman smiled and fetched him his order, then stood watching him as he took a large gulp of his soda immediately. Buizel promptly plunged her head into the large jug of water.
"You're new round here," the woman commented.
"Just passing through," Finn replied steadily.
"Know folk round here?"
"Not really. Looking for someone, though." The woman looked interested.
"Oh? Who? Maybe I can help. If they're a regular round here, I'll be sure to know 'em. Nobody stays out of my bar for long," she laughed throatily, and Finn smiled reluctantly.
"Her name is Amy. She's got curly brown hair... freckles. Well. She did. When she was eleven. But she's my age, I haven't seen her since," he said flatly. The woman looked sympathetic.
"That's a tough story. Sorry, kid, that description doesn't make me think of anyone I know. But maybe she looks different now. Different name, even. Lots of crazy things happen round these parts. Stick around and see if anything turns up."
"Thanks." He raised his can to the woman, and she gave a one-sided smile before turning her attention to some rowdy men clamouring for her attention. Finn sat back and watched her deal with them expertly, ignoring their lewd comments and snorting derisively at their drunken antics. She poured beers freely, and dried glasses with a tea-towel that was spotlessly clean, and looked very at odds with the general grime of the rest of the bar. Finn sipped and looked about him, just watching people, watching them talk and laugh. This was a poor town, just the bare bones of civilisation. Hopelessly run down. But these people were still happy. Companionable. He found he envied them.
Buizel pushed her now-damp nose into his hand and he smiled, patting her. The bartender was watching him again, and he looked up at her quizzically.
"What's your name?" She asked, offhand. Finn frowned and paused. "Oh dear. A cagey one? Don't worry, I'm used to that. I'm Jen, though. Real name and everything," she said with a chuckle to herself. Finn found himself smiling wearily.
"I'm Finn," he said.
"You look like you've got the weight of the world on your shoulders, Finn," said Jen lightly.
"Feels like it sometimes."
"Got a lot of that going round this town."
"You seem to be doing OK."
"Wasn't always. This is the least fucked up I've ever been in my life. Don't think it'll last that long, either," said Jen with a light-hearted laugh. Finn smiled wanly and just studied her while he finished his drink. She was very tall, probably a little under six feet, but her build was slight. She looked to be in her early thirties and had some laughter lines by her light blue eyes, but apart from that appeared to be aging well. Her long, bleach-blonde hair was just past her shoulders and she wore a long, purple coat with a full tail and black buttons all down the front. Two Pokéballs were clearly visible at her belt.
"Got an eyeful yet?" Jen said with a hint of amusement, breaking Finn's reverie. He realised he had been staring silently, and cleared his throat awkwardly.
"Sorry."
"Don't worry. I assure you, you are the pinnacle of politeness compared to what I usually get doing this job," she laughed, and as if to make her point obvious a fat man suddenly leaned over the bar and bellowed over at her.
"Show us a bit o' somethin', darlin'!"
Finn turned his head slowly and the corners of his mouth curled down, repulsed by the man's stench as much as his behaviour. Jen narrowed her eyes and fingered a Pokéball, but the man staggered off to a corner of the bar and she dropped her hand.
"Old bastard's fifty percent alcohol, fifty percent nicotine by now," she muttered to Finn. He smiled.
"Hope you've got some tough Pokémon in there," he said, nodding at her belt. She smiled confidently.
"I manage." She was distracted by some more customers seeking refills, and Finn took the opportunity to drain his soda, swivel off the barstool and sidle away from the bar. He never liked saying goodbye. Even to random women serving at bars. He pushed past a buxom, middle-aged woman with an alarming display of cleavage and headed for the door, set on beginning his search for Amy. Once outside in the sunshine, he let Misdreavus out.
"Time to do some exploring, guys," he said. Together, they set off to search the town, patiently, asking around and hoping somebody had some word of the sweet-faced girl he used to know.
Hours passed, and Finn had been in all the shops on the main street, and had gone down dozens of the little side-streets knocking on doors and asking for any word of Amy. But nobody knew her. Someone said they knew an Amy, and sent him to a ramshackle house across town, but it turned out the woman was a seventy-year old with a missing finger on her left hand. Despondent, Finn made his way back to the central street.
"Getting late," he murmured, picking up Buizel. "Here, Misdreavus. You'd better get back inside. I have to look for somewhere to stay the night," he said, steeling himself for what had to be done. Misdreavus looked sad as he withdrew her and fixed the ball to his belt. Buizel butted his head comfortingly. She was his long-standing partner in crime, now. Her cuteness was always a bonus in these situations. He sighed. Life went on. There was always tomorrow, and countless back-alleys to check.
He found himself returning to the bar he had left that afternoon. Jen was still behind the bar, and Finn hesitated. For some reason he felt he cared that she might see what he was doing here, but he immediately pushed that to the back of his mind. No time for such sentiments. No point. He scanned the bustling bar, looking for likely targets. A dark-skinned young girl sat alone, and Finn considered her for a moment, but then a burly, dreadlocked man slid in beside her with two glasses of beer. Finn moved on. He pushed past a few more people and spotted some tables at the back.
There. Three pretty girls were sitting, chatting and giggling, tall glasses of wine sitting before them. He set Buizel down, and she was off immediately. Weaving through the people she bounced up to the girls' chairs, butting into one of their legs.
"Oh, how sweet!" the girl furthest away laughed, bending down to look at Buizel. She had long brown ringlets which reminded Finn a bit too much of Amy, and he struck her off in his head, turning his attention to the other two. One was a beautiful oriental-looking girl, her sleek black hair almost waist-length and perfectly straight. She smiled and leaned down to pat Buizel, then drew her up onto her lap, turning to say something to the last girl, who was a redhead, her hair cut in a sleek bob round her jawline.
Finn pushed through the crowd and stalked up to their table, carefully keeping his expression slightly stormy, by no means looking like a sleazy charmer. The sleazy charmer would be chased off from a mile away. Never the way to go. Finn swept his gaze across the three, who were looking up at him, their interest piqued.
"Apologies," he said shortly. "She's always up to no good," he said, raising an eyebrow at Buizel, who chirruped innocently. He held out a hand, but Buizel hung back, staying in the dark-haired girl's lap. Finn sighed. The girls laughed.
"Looks like she wants a girls' night out!" giggled the brunette. Finn half-smiled at her, relieved that her dark eyes and clear porcelain complexion made her very little like Amy in features. The redhead said nothing, her expression telling Finn that she was the least trusting of the three, her eyes slightly cool and her body language closed.
"She's so cute," the dark-haired girl said, stroking Buizel who pawed her happily.
"Well, at least let me get you a drink for keeping her entertained," Finn sighed. The redhead frowned, but the other two merely shrugged, giggled and said "OK!". Finn made his way back to the bar and fetched a round of drinks, avoiding looking Jen in the eye and scooting off quickly when she handed them to him. She raised her eyebrows but said nothing.
"What are your names?" Finn asked, sitting in the remaining chair and leaning back rakishly. Buizel had curled up comfortably, so the girls' attention was now drawn to Finn.
"I'm Molly," said the brunette, leaning forwards. "This is Kimiko and Robin."
"I'm Finn," Finn said politely, making sure he did not seem too interested in any of the girls.
"What brings you to these fine quarters?" Molly asked jokingly, clearly the chattiest of the three.
"I'm in town checking up on a friend," Finn replied with a shrug. "He's not been doing so well lately, and nobody else is about to keep an eye on him. He's been ill, and he's got no money. I thought I'd better see what I could do to help"
"Oh," Molly said, eyes wide. "That sounds bad."
"Where does he live?"
Finn let a long pause elapse, and sensed the girls - Kimiko and Molly at least - being drawn nearer him subtly, as if leaning in to find the answer he wasn't giving them. "Back alleys of the town," he said heavily. "He lost his house since I last saw him. A lot worse than he was, to be honest," he said with a sigh.
"Oh no," Kimiko breathed.
"So... where are you staying then?" Molly asked, frowning. Finn glanced up at her, feigning surprise, then pursed his lips.
"Haven't exactly worked that out yet. Here, let me get you more drinks-"
"Don't be silly!" Molly said, waving a hand. "Robin, can you get another round?" she said, looking over at the redhead, whose face was turning steadily stonier, but she shrugged and got up. Finn watched her go, and almost idly, disinterestedly noted the long, white line of her legs beneath her short black skirt.
"I would've been happy to-" he started, but Molly cut him off with a laugh.
"We don't let guys buy all the drinks," she said, giggling. "We can pay our way too."
"You changed the subject," Kimiko said, smiling up at Finn. She really was very pretty, her face perfectly proportioned and sweetly beautiful, like a china doll's. "Where are you going to stay?"
"Oh, don't worry about that-"
"Come on, you're not going to stay in the Inn, are you? It's like a Grimer threw up in there. Almost got shut down by Officer Jenny last month. You don't want to think about who's been sleeping in all those beds," Molly said with a snort.
"Well thanks for putting me off the only option there is in town," Finn said with a roll of his eyes.
"It's OK," Molly grinned. "You can stick with us for now!" she said enthusiastically, and Kimiko looked a little uncertain but smiled too.
Robin returned with a tray of three drinks and slammed it down on the table carelessly. Molly frowned. "Why's there only three?" she whined, and Robin narrowed her eyes.
"I'm done." she said curtly.
"Oh, Robin, don't be a spoilsport," Molly sighed.
"Finish those and we're going home," Robin snapped.
"No we are not," Molly said indignantly. "I'm staying out, with Finn."
Finn smiled at her, and Robin looked furious.
"Fine. Kimi, are you staying too?"
Kimiko looked anxiously between her two friends and bit her lip.
"I... no, I'll come with you after this drink. Molly, are you sure you won't..."
"Oh just go, the pair of you," Molly sniffed, picking up her drink and taking a defiant swig.
"Molly, don't be like that," said Kimiko, looking hurt.
"Listen, I don't want to cause trouble here," Finn finally interjected, making to get off his stool, though he knew Molly would immediately protest.
"Don't get up!" she said loudly, glaring at Robin who threw her hands up in exasperation, picked up her bag and headed for the door.
"Wait for me," Kimiko squeaked, shooting an apologetic look at both Molly and Finn before she ran after her friend, leaving Finn alone at the table with Molly, who beamed at him.
"Finally, just you and me," she giggled. Finn forced a smile and leaned in closer to her, feeling the first prickles of self-loathing as he stared deep into her eyes.
-----
The next morning dawned dry, hot and airless in the pretty little house Molly had taken them back to. It was in a much nicer area than the bar, and it was obviously her family home, though thankfully Finn saw no sign of her parents. He tried not to think about what it might for her age that she still lived here.
While Molly slept off the effects of the night she'd had, Finn stealthily slipped out of her bedroom. He helped himself to a small amount of bread, cheese and fruit from the kitchen, some Pokéblocks from the pantry, and then let himself out of the house, shoving his take into his rucksack as he squinted in the bright sunlight. They'd taken a taxi here last night, and he was now not sure how on earth he was going to manage to get back to the centre of sordid Pirate Bay. It was another of those times when he wished he had a large flying Pokémon in his party, but such Pokémon were inordinately rare in this area, and ones that would allow a trainer to ride them even more so.
Finn frowned and eyed the bright green garage door next to the house. Furtively, he tried the handle and found it open, allowing him to slide it up and peer into the darkness. He was in luck. A small, purple scooter sat next to a very shiny black car, probably Molly's, and Finn approached it. It took him no time at all to hotwire the scooter and quickly he nudged it out onto the road and glanced back at the white house only once before he set off in the direction of the Bay. He felt guilty, of course, but as ever he found that refocusing his mind on his one mission of finding Amy let him ignore that self-hatred just long enough to get out of here.
The drive was quite long, and the sun was nearly at its highest by the time he saw the ugly brown buildings of Pirate Bay reappear on the horizon. He left the scooter hidden behind some bins under a dirty tarpaulin and then started to comb the streets once more for some clue as to where he should look. The wind had picked up and it was no longer so hot, and dust blew in his face from the gravelly paths and general filth in the town. He lamented what he had become.
Just then, a gust scooped up a bunch of loose papers sitting by the side of the road and sent them barrelling into Finn's face. He swore and flapped his arms about as he tried to get them off him, and crumpled one in his hand as he yanked it off his face. He stared at it irritably. It was some lewd advert for the 'company' of pretty, young girls. His lip curled distastefully and he was about to throw it away when one of the girls in the pictures caught his eye. She was half-naked, bottle blonde and seductively posed, but it was the fact that she had very green eyes that caught his attention. His heart sank as he stared closer at the image, hoping that it wasn't who he thought it was because the implications were just too horrible.
The image was grainy, and the fact that the girl pictured was blonde and heavily made up meant that it was impossible to know whether he was just seeing Amy in the picture because he was obsessed with finding her, or if there was any chance it actually was her. He glanced at the address at the bottom and realised it was just a street or two away from the bar he'd been at the previous night. Frowning, he decided it was worth a shot.
He reclaimed the scooter and set off in the direction of the red light area of town, navigating narrow alleys until he honed in on Monkshood Bar, a few wrong turns later. He parked up in as inconspicuous a place as he could and set off on foot looking for Mistress Elsie's.
Finally, Finn came across a dark-fronted building with gaudy lights and obscene pictures of women in the windows. He wrinkled his nose and winced as he took a step towards it, thinking that even he had never set foot in one of these places before.
First time for everything, he thought to himself black-humouredly, pushing the door open with a tinny tinkle from a bell hanging over it. He approached the fake wooden desk and waited. Suddenly, a short, middle aged woman with very fake orange hair and red lipstick stuck her head out of a door marked "office" and plastered an ugly smile onto her bulbous face.
"Well hello, my handsome sir," she said throatily, pressing herself up against the desk and peering at Finn. He subconsciously took a step back.
"Er, hello," he said, trying to adopt an air of authority.
"So what'll it be for you, my lovely?" she all but cackled, resting five claw-like fingers on the desk. "I take it you know what this fine establishment is all about, so let's get down to business... did you have anything... anyone... in particular in mind?"
Finn dropped the flier on the desk. "Yeah," he said curtly. "This girl. I want to see her,"
"A fine choice, good sir, but I'm afraid the beautiful Glitter is already on an assignment," the proprietress said solemnly. "Might I recommend... Jasmina?" she suggested, pointing at the picture of a dark girl with hair down to her waist.
Finn frowned. "Fine, she'll do," he said, deciding he might as well attempt to speak with one of the girls here and see if they could shed some light onto the identity of 'Glitter'.
"Excellent!" crowed the woman, leaning forwards. "That'll be 200 for the hour, or 100 for half!" she smirked. "But I think a strapping lad like you'll want the hour, am I right?"
Finn grimaced, realising that he was carrying nowhere near that kind of money, and that this shrewd creature was never going to let him near the girls without paying her upfront.
"Oh dear. I've left my wallet at home" Finn said carelessly. "Silly me. Excuse me while I go home for it. I'll be back." The woman frowned, disappointed, as Finn spun on his heel and exited the establishment, feeling a little like some kind of dirty slime still clung to him as he stood outside.
He needed cash, and fast. Quickly his mind skimmed over his usual options for making quick money, deciding which was most likely to work in this area. Richer neighbourhoods were good for illicitly selling cute Pokémon he could catch cheaply in the forests. Poorer ones usually had a brutal, but lucrative underground battle arena. He decided it was likely this awful town would have just that.
He returned to Jen's bar, relieved to see she was not tending it today, instead replaced by a burly man with a moustache. It was barely midday but there were still plenty of people sipping alcoholic drinks. Finn bought himself the cheapest one and scouted around for likely pundits, eventually settling on a pair of men wearing dark clothes and talking in hushed tones in the corner.
"Fellas," Finn said, raising a glass to them. They returned the greeting warily, and Finn approached jauntily. "Listen, a mate of mine was meant to meet me here. He's big on the battle scene in this town, runs competitions and that. You wouldn't know of him, would you?"
The men looked interested. "What, Jasper?" said one, leaning forward. "He runs all the tournaments round here, but he ain't gonna be out in the middle of the day. There's a big tournament on right now, down at the old copper mine!"
"Thanks," Finn said, spinning on his heel and leaving the men staring after him, confused. He'd passed the mine on his way into town and it took no time to travel there on the stolen scooter. As he approached he could hear shouts, screeches and explosive sounds that could only be Pokémon locked in battle. He set his jaw and summoned Misdreavus, watching as she materialised in front of him.
"Hey, Mis," he said as she chattered in greeting. "Listen. We have to fight," he said, and a solemn look took over her face. "I'm sorry."
She looked at him and shook her head vehemently, and Finn knew she meant don't apologise. She was always such a tough one.
He was here because of a tip-off from a shrewd old woman in Kepa City. She had had dark hair streaked with grey, and eyes sharper than cut glass which surveyed him coldly when she scoured the photograph. Then, she had smiled, and named the price of her memories. Finn did not think she was lying, but she had extorted Finn for a precious tidbit of information, costing him dearly in credits he did not have in abundance. The price would have been double what he paid, but a brief, aggressive shove against a wall had had the woman hatefully lowering her demands. Finn felt a stab of guilt at treating a woman in such a way, but needs must. It had got him here, and was the only lead he had had on Amy for the past three years.
He sighed and let his Buizel out of her Pokéball, and she looked up at him with a hoarse cry. "Buizel!"
Finn reached down to pat her sleek head. "I know you're thirsty," he said, licking his own dry lips. "But we've got to search for Amy." But he looked at Buizel's pitiful expression and sighed, glancing about him. A lopsided sign swung outside a battered-looking building, a vibrant purple flower in a beer glass sitting above the words 'Monkshood Bar'. Finn shrugged.
"Doubt it'll get much better than that, B," he said, glancing down at Buizel, who looked distinctly unconvinced. Finn pushed open the door of the bar and peered in, instantly struck by the overpowering scent of alcohol, smoke and something acrid he did not care to think about for too long. He bent and scooped up Buizel, putting her around his shoulders so she did not get trampled underfoot in the busy bar.
"What'll it be?" came the smooth voice of the blonde woman behind the bar. She was tall and beautiful but the no-nonsense look in her sharp blue eyes let Finn know she was no pushover immediately. He knew the type of girl to be charmed easily. He knew the type of girl who couldn't say no to anyone. This woman was neither of those, and he knew when to avoid trouble.
"Just a white soda. And a pitcher of water for my Pokémon, please," Finn said, handing over a few coins. The woman smiled and fetched him his order, then stood watching him as he took a large gulp of his soda immediately. Buizel promptly plunged her head into the large jug of water.
"You're new round here," the woman commented.
"Just passing through," Finn replied steadily.
"Know folk round here?"
"Not really. Looking for someone, though." The woman looked interested.
"Oh? Who? Maybe I can help. If they're a regular round here, I'll be sure to know 'em. Nobody stays out of my bar for long," she laughed throatily, and Finn smiled reluctantly.
"Her name is Amy. She's got curly brown hair... freckles. Well. She did. When she was eleven. But she's my age, I haven't seen her since," he said flatly. The woman looked sympathetic.
"That's a tough story. Sorry, kid, that description doesn't make me think of anyone I know. But maybe she looks different now. Different name, even. Lots of crazy things happen round these parts. Stick around and see if anything turns up."
"Thanks." He raised his can to the woman, and she gave a one-sided smile before turning her attention to some rowdy men clamouring for her attention. Finn sat back and watched her deal with them expertly, ignoring their lewd comments and snorting derisively at their drunken antics. She poured beers freely, and dried glasses with a tea-towel that was spotlessly clean, and looked very at odds with the general grime of the rest of the bar. Finn sipped and looked about him, just watching people, watching them talk and laugh. This was a poor town, just the bare bones of civilisation. Hopelessly run down. But these people were still happy. Companionable. He found he envied them.
Buizel pushed her now-damp nose into his hand and he smiled, patting her. The bartender was watching him again, and he looked up at her quizzically.
"What's your name?" She asked, offhand. Finn frowned and paused. "Oh dear. A cagey one? Don't worry, I'm used to that. I'm Jen, though. Real name and everything," she said with a chuckle to herself. Finn found himself smiling wearily.
"I'm Finn," he said.
"You look like you've got the weight of the world on your shoulders, Finn," said Jen lightly.
"Feels like it sometimes."
"Got a lot of that going round this town."
"You seem to be doing OK."
"Wasn't always. This is the least fucked up I've ever been in my life. Don't think it'll last that long, either," said Jen with a light-hearted laugh. Finn smiled wanly and just studied her while he finished his drink. She was very tall, probably a little under six feet, but her build was slight. She looked to be in her early thirties and had some laughter lines by her light blue eyes, but apart from that appeared to be aging well. Her long, bleach-blonde hair was just past her shoulders and she wore a long, purple coat with a full tail and black buttons all down the front. Two Pokéballs were clearly visible at her belt.
"Got an eyeful yet?" Jen said with a hint of amusement, breaking Finn's reverie. He realised he had been staring silently, and cleared his throat awkwardly.
"Sorry."
"Don't worry. I assure you, you are the pinnacle of politeness compared to what I usually get doing this job," she laughed, and as if to make her point obvious a fat man suddenly leaned over the bar and bellowed over at her.
"Show us a bit o' somethin', darlin'!"
Finn turned his head slowly and the corners of his mouth curled down, repulsed by the man's stench as much as his behaviour. Jen narrowed her eyes and fingered a Pokéball, but the man staggered off to a corner of the bar and she dropped her hand.
"Old bastard's fifty percent alcohol, fifty percent nicotine by now," she muttered to Finn. He smiled.
"Hope you've got some tough Pokémon in there," he said, nodding at her belt. She smiled confidently.
"I manage." She was distracted by some more customers seeking refills, and Finn took the opportunity to drain his soda, swivel off the barstool and sidle away from the bar. He never liked saying goodbye. Even to random women serving at bars. He pushed past a buxom, middle-aged woman with an alarming display of cleavage and headed for the door, set on beginning his search for Amy. Once outside in the sunshine, he let Misdreavus out.
"Time to do some exploring, guys," he said. Together, they set off to search the town, patiently, asking around and hoping somebody had some word of the sweet-faced girl he used to know.
Hours passed, and Finn had been in all the shops on the main street, and had gone down dozens of the little side-streets knocking on doors and asking for any word of Amy. But nobody knew her. Someone said they knew an Amy, and sent him to a ramshackle house across town, but it turned out the woman was a seventy-year old with a missing finger on her left hand. Despondent, Finn made his way back to the central street.
"Getting late," he murmured, picking up Buizel. "Here, Misdreavus. You'd better get back inside. I have to look for somewhere to stay the night," he said, steeling himself for what had to be done. Misdreavus looked sad as he withdrew her and fixed the ball to his belt. Buizel butted his head comfortingly. She was his long-standing partner in crime, now. Her cuteness was always a bonus in these situations. He sighed. Life went on. There was always tomorrow, and countless back-alleys to check.
He found himself returning to the bar he had left that afternoon. Jen was still behind the bar, and Finn hesitated. For some reason he felt he cared that she might see what he was doing here, but he immediately pushed that to the back of his mind. No time for such sentiments. No point. He scanned the bustling bar, looking for likely targets. A dark-skinned young girl sat alone, and Finn considered her for a moment, but then a burly, dreadlocked man slid in beside her with two glasses of beer. Finn moved on. He pushed past a few more people and spotted some tables at the back.
There. Three pretty girls were sitting, chatting and giggling, tall glasses of wine sitting before them. He set Buizel down, and she was off immediately. Weaving through the people she bounced up to the girls' chairs, butting into one of their legs.
"Oh, how sweet!" the girl furthest away laughed, bending down to look at Buizel. She had long brown ringlets which reminded Finn a bit too much of Amy, and he struck her off in his head, turning his attention to the other two. One was a beautiful oriental-looking girl, her sleek black hair almost waist-length and perfectly straight. She smiled and leaned down to pat Buizel, then drew her up onto her lap, turning to say something to the last girl, who was a redhead, her hair cut in a sleek bob round her jawline.
Finn pushed through the crowd and stalked up to their table, carefully keeping his expression slightly stormy, by no means looking like a sleazy charmer. The sleazy charmer would be chased off from a mile away. Never the way to go. Finn swept his gaze across the three, who were looking up at him, their interest piqued.
"Apologies," he said shortly. "She's always up to no good," he said, raising an eyebrow at Buizel, who chirruped innocently. He held out a hand, but Buizel hung back, staying in the dark-haired girl's lap. Finn sighed. The girls laughed.
"Looks like she wants a girls' night out!" giggled the brunette. Finn half-smiled at her, relieved that her dark eyes and clear porcelain complexion made her very little like Amy in features. The redhead said nothing, her expression telling Finn that she was the least trusting of the three, her eyes slightly cool and her body language closed.
"She's so cute," the dark-haired girl said, stroking Buizel who pawed her happily.
"Well, at least let me get you a drink for keeping her entertained," Finn sighed. The redhead frowned, but the other two merely shrugged, giggled and said "OK!". Finn made his way back to the bar and fetched a round of drinks, avoiding looking Jen in the eye and scooting off quickly when she handed them to him. She raised her eyebrows but said nothing.
"What are your names?" Finn asked, sitting in the remaining chair and leaning back rakishly. Buizel had curled up comfortably, so the girls' attention was now drawn to Finn.
"I'm Molly," said the brunette, leaning forwards. "This is Kimiko and Robin."
"I'm Finn," Finn said politely, making sure he did not seem too interested in any of the girls.
"What brings you to these fine quarters?" Molly asked jokingly, clearly the chattiest of the three.
"I'm in town checking up on a friend," Finn replied with a shrug. "He's not been doing so well lately, and nobody else is about to keep an eye on him. He's been ill, and he's got no money. I thought I'd better see what I could do to help"
"Oh," Molly said, eyes wide. "That sounds bad."
"Where does he live?"
Finn let a long pause elapse, and sensed the girls - Kimiko and Molly at least - being drawn nearer him subtly, as if leaning in to find the answer he wasn't giving them. "Back alleys of the town," he said heavily. "He lost his house since I last saw him. A lot worse than he was, to be honest," he said with a sigh.
"Oh no," Kimiko breathed.
"So... where are you staying then?" Molly asked, frowning. Finn glanced up at her, feigning surprise, then pursed his lips.
"Haven't exactly worked that out yet. Here, let me get you more drinks-"
"Don't be silly!" Molly said, waving a hand. "Robin, can you get another round?" she said, looking over at the redhead, whose face was turning steadily stonier, but she shrugged and got up. Finn watched her go, and almost idly, disinterestedly noted the long, white line of her legs beneath her short black skirt.
"I would've been happy to-" he started, but Molly cut him off with a laugh.
"We don't let guys buy all the drinks," she said, giggling. "We can pay our way too."
"You changed the subject," Kimiko said, smiling up at Finn. She really was very pretty, her face perfectly proportioned and sweetly beautiful, like a china doll's. "Where are you going to stay?"
"Oh, don't worry about that-"
"Come on, you're not going to stay in the Inn, are you? It's like a Grimer threw up in there. Almost got shut down by Officer Jenny last month. You don't want to think about who's been sleeping in all those beds," Molly said with a snort.
"Well thanks for putting me off the only option there is in town," Finn said with a roll of his eyes.
"It's OK," Molly grinned. "You can stick with us for now!" she said enthusiastically, and Kimiko looked a little uncertain but smiled too.
Robin returned with a tray of three drinks and slammed it down on the table carelessly. Molly frowned. "Why's there only three?" she whined, and Robin narrowed her eyes.
"I'm done." she said curtly.
"Oh, Robin, don't be a spoilsport," Molly sighed.
"Finish those and we're going home," Robin snapped.
"No we are not," Molly said indignantly. "I'm staying out, with Finn."
Finn smiled at her, and Robin looked furious.
"Fine. Kimi, are you staying too?"
Kimiko looked anxiously between her two friends and bit her lip.
"I... no, I'll come with you after this drink. Molly, are you sure you won't..."
"Oh just go, the pair of you," Molly sniffed, picking up her drink and taking a defiant swig.
"Molly, don't be like that," said Kimiko, looking hurt.
"Listen, I don't want to cause trouble here," Finn finally interjected, making to get off his stool, though he knew Molly would immediately protest.
"Don't get up!" she said loudly, glaring at Robin who threw her hands up in exasperation, picked up her bag and headed for the door.
"Wait for me," Kimiko squeaked, shooting an apologetic look at both Molly and Finn before she ran after her friend, leaving Finn alone at the table with Molly, who beamed at him.
"Finally, just you and me," she giggled. Finn forced a smile and leaned in closer to her, feeling the first prickles of self-loathing as he stared deep into her eyes.
-----
The next morning dawned dry, hot and airless in the pretty little house Molly had taken them back to. It was in a much nicer area than the bar, and it was obviously her family home, though thankfully Finn saw no sign of her parents. He tried not to think about what it might for her age that she still lived here.
While Molly slept off the effects of the night she'd had, Finn stealthily slipped out of her bedroom. He helped himself to a small amount of bread, cheese and fruit from the kitchen, some Pokéblocks from the pantry, and then let himself out of the house, shoving his take into his rucksack as he squinted in the bright sunlight. They'd taken a taxi here last night, and he was now not sure how on earth he was going to manage to get back to the centre of sordid Pirate Bay. It was another of those times when he wished he had a large flying Pokémon in his party, but such Pokémon were inordinately rare in this area, and ones that would allow a trainer to ride them even more so.
Finn frowned and eyed the bright green garage door next to the house. Furtively, he tried the handle and found it open, allowing him to slide it up and peer into the darkness. He was in luck. A small, purple scooter sat next to a very shiny black car, probably Molly's, and Finn approached it. It took him no time at all to hotwire the scooter and quickly he nudged it out onto the road and glanced back at the white house only once before he set off in the direction of the Bay. He felt guilty, of course, but as ever he found that refocusing his mind on his one mission of finding Amy let him ignore that self-hatred just long enough to get out of here.
The drive was quite long, and the sun was nearly at its highest by the time he saw the ugly brown buildings of Pirate Bay reappear on the horizon. He left the scooter hidden behind some bins under a dirty tarpaulin and then started to comb the streets once more for some clue as to where he should look. The wind had picked up and it was no longer so hot, and dust blew in his face from the gravelly paths and general filth in the town. He lamented what he had become.
Just then, a gust scooped up a bunch of loose papers sitting by the side of the road and sent them barrelling into Finn's face. He swore and flapped his arms about as he tried to get them off him, and crumpled one in his hand as he yanked it off his face. He stared at it irritably. It was some lewd advert for the 'company' of pretty, young girls. His lip curled distastefully and he was about to throw it away when one of the girls in the pictures caught his eye. She was half-naked, bottle blonde and seductively posed, but it was the fact that she had very green eyes that caught his attention. His heart sank as he stared closer at the image, hoping that it wasn't who he thought it was because the implications were just too horrible.
The image was grainy, and the fact that the girl pictured was blonde and heavily made up meant that it was impossible to know whether he was just seeing Amy in the picture because he was obsessed with finding her, or if there was any chance it actually was her. He glanced at the address at the bottom and realised it was just a street or two away from the bar he'd been at the previous night. Frowning, he decided it was worth a shot.
He reclaimed the scooter and set off in the direction of the red light area of town, navigating narrow alleys until he honed in on Monkshood Bar, a few wrong turns later. He parked up in as inconspicuous a place as he could and set off on foot looking for Mistress Elsie's.
Finally, Finn came across a dark-fronted building with gaudy lights and obscene pictures of women in the windows. He wrinkled his nose and winced as he took a step towards it, thinking that even he had never set foot in one of these places before.
First time for everything, he thought to himself black-humouredly, pushing the door open with a tinny tinkle from a bell hanging over it. He approached the fake wooden desk and waited. Suddenly, a short, middle aged woman with very fake orange hair and red lipstick stuck her head out of a door marked "office" and plastered an ugly smile onto her bulbous face.
"Well hello, my handsome sir," she said throatily, pressing herself up against the desk and peering at Finn. He subconsciously took a step back.
"Er, hello," he said, trying to adopt an air of authority.
"So what'll it be for you, my lovely?" she all but cackled, resting five claw-like fingers on the desk. "I take it you know what this fine establishment is all about, so let's get down to business... did you have anything... anyone... in particular in mind?"
Finn dropped the flier on the desk. "Yeah," he said curtly. "This girl. I want to see her,"
"A fine choice, good sir, but I'm afraid the beautiful Glitter is already on an assignment," the proprietress said solemnly. "Might I recommend... Jasmina?" she suggested, pointing at the picture of a dark girl with hair down to her waist.
Finn frowned. "Fine, she'll do," he said, deciding he might as well attempt to speak with one of the girls here and see if they could shed some light onto the identity of 'Glitter'.
"Excellent!" crowed the woman, leaning forwards. "That'll be 200 for the hour, or 100 for half!" she smirked. "But I think a strapping lad like you'll want the hour, am I right?"
Finn grimaced, realising that he was carrying nowhere near that kind of money, and that this shrewd creature was never going to let him near the girls without paying her upfront.
"Oh dear. I've left my wallet at home" Finn said carelessly. "Silly me. Excuse me while I go home for it. I'll be back." The woman frowned, disappointed, as Finn spun on his heel and exited the establishment, feeling a little like some kind of dirty slime still clung to him as he stood outside.
He needed cash, and fast. Quickly his mind skimmed over his usual options for making quick money, deciding which was most likely to work in this area. Richer neighbourhoods were good for illicitly selling cute Pokémon he could catch cheaply in the forests. Poorer ones usually had a brutal, but lucrative underground battle arena. He decided it was likely this awful town would have just that.
He returned to Jen's bar, relieved to see she was not tending it today, instead replaced by a burly man with a moustache. It was barely midday but there were still plenty of people sipping alcoholic drinks. Finn bought himself the cheapest one and scouted around for likely pundits, eventually settling on a pair of men wearing dark clothes and talking in hushed tones in the corner.
"Fellas," Finn said, raising a glass to them. They returned the greeting warily, and Finn approached jauntily. "Listen, a mate of mine was meant to meet me here. He's big on the battle scene in this town, runs competitions and that. You wouldn't know of him, would you?"
The men looked interested. "What, Jasper?" said one, leaning forward. "He runs all the tournaments round here, but he ain't gonna be out in the middle of the day. There's a big tournament on right now, down at the old copper mine!"
"Thanks," Finn said, spinning on his heel and leaving the men staring after him, confused. He'd passed the mine on his way into town and it took no time to travel there on the stolen scooter. As he approached he could hear shouts, screeches and explosive sounds that could only be Pokémon locked in battle. He set his jaw and summoned Misdreavus, watching as she materialised in front of him.
"Hey, Mis," he said as she chattered in greeting. "Listen. We have to fight," he said, and a solemn look took over her face. "I'm sorry."
She looked at him and shook her head vehemently, and Finn knew she meant don't apologise. She was always such a tough one.