PoA Mission 12: Monkey Business

Mind over Nature: Part 1

“Of all the—I can’t believe he—GRAAAH! I hope his fur gets shaved by a thousand Durants on fire! Covered in Joltiks and Muk sludge!” Jules was trudging through the scalding heat of a Savannah, leading towards a humid looking jungles, laying out curses in her native tongue that had the group of mons she was traipsing the wicked landscape with turning to gawk or cast their eyes quickly in her general direction. All to stop a Tribal leader from burning it in order to avenge her brother's death at the hands of a group made of almost nothing but monkey-like mons, led by an Oranguru who also had hundreds of Passimians who would soon beat you to a bloody pulp than just attack like a normal mon.

“What do you think she’s saying?”

“I don’t know, but with how her face looks like that AND the fact she’s spouting in some weird language…it can’t be good.”

“What if she’s some kind of sorceress and is casting a spell on us?!”

“No, I bet she’s working for those Passimians and is telling them our location!”

Jules heard every hurried whispered from these so-called warriors but chose not to speak up; though she desperately wanted to say something to get them to shut up. Luckily, the Lucario they were following accomplished that for her.

“Whatever your companion is spouting it may be wise not to draw more attention to her or we shall all pay the price.” The Lucario’s gentle, yet firm, voice carried across the group and muffled any more comments towards the Smeargle in the group. Cecil was his name and Jules found herself liking him for his wise aura and all around calm demeanor.

It was this reason she chose to accompany his group through the jungles and send the monkey-like mons, as well as their scruffy lackey’s, back to the hole that Ouranguru probably dragged them from.

It did hurt her though, that she would not be able to help Cecil in this way, for her orders came from a certain Umbra, who saw only her potential in tripping up bystanders. It was that reason that made her blood boil but she knew he was only doing this to benefit his own sneaky goal.

‘Such is that of a Mercenary.’ She breathed loudly and hoisted her newly acquired sword back into its hilt. From being tortured by biting cold and painful memories to feeling like she wanted to rip her fur off and dive into a barrel of snow the Smeargle was having no luck come her way in the form of comfort. But she had at least acquired proper clothing for the trek over the Savannah, and very soon, if her plans held together, into the thickest jungle she had ever seen and complete her mission.

As she walked along, falling behind a Croconaw and in front of a Kecleon her mind was overcome by something that had been plaguing her mentality. The cold had been nothing, just a bitter breeze.  What was worst, was the phantoms.

Since being brought back to the base up in Naklin, half frozen, her mind had pulsed with images from her past, as well as more recent ones. She didn’t know why or how but when she was healed it was broken to her, gently, that her Psychic attack had done…something to her. The physician couldn’t even begin to describe it, and she was a Psychic type herself.

All Jules got out of that ‘check-up’ was her attack was growing in strength but that only happened when a new psychic based attack was forming.

“You will not be allowed to use Psychic until this new attack rears its head on you.” And before Jules could make a comment she had been fitted with a special limiter cuff on her right hand.

Basically, it would only allow her to do minimal things like levitate a plate or two. But even with the band she was constantly bombarded with images and creatures that seemed to talk to her but not about her.

“Maybe I’m going crazy.” She’d jokingly said to her landlady, Heidi. The Gardevoir, along with her Beheeyem husband chortled until they realized what Jules had said and reprimanded her the way parents might for a child that said they were a constant disappointment to them. She never brought it up and had kept her nose to the ground ever sense.

Now, arriving at the dense jungle’s inner boarder, with all kinds of wild cackles, caws, and other unsightly sounds rang through her head like a cathedral gong on replay. She remained vigilant, hoping for a quick slip into some thick brush that would allow her the chance to ‘disappear’ and set the distraction Umbra requested of her.

Being so caught up in replaying her memories, and finding it hard to think with these new sounds clashing like a thousand swords against her ears, she did not hear the sudden stillness that encroached on her group until a blast of pure blue energy whizzed over her head and exploded behind the last mon in their group.

“We’ve been found! It is a Darmanitan leading this bunch, quickly remember what we discussed!” Cecil shouted as the warriors dove for the jungle; only to hear and see from above, the roar of the Passimian hoard as they rained down upon them.