Categories > Games > Pokemon

Galacтιc ʀeacнeѕ

by tubass 0 reviews

GALACTIC GRUNT! READER X VARIOUS ł Kind of an experiment with style, along with giving Team Galactic some much needed love. Any sort of attent...

Category: Pokemon - Rating: G - Genres: Humor - Published: 2019-08-08 - 2425 words

You inhaled the brisk Sinnoh air deeply. You bounced in place as you waited among the crowd of new grunts, most just as anxious as you to meet their superiors. Nearly everyone was dressed the same, as they all had the same stories for the most part; broke college students, kids who had to help support their families, and a couple of kids from wealthy families who abandoned riches for mental security.

You tried your best to distract yourself while waiting. A guy a couple feet away from you was trying to smell himself discreetly, and ended up punching himself in the face as he snapped to attention. You followed suit as soon as you caught on, wanting to make a good impression. Somehow, you were the last, earning a look from a couple people, including an old man standing at the top of the stairs.

Four people stood with him, though they looked to be much younger. Almost everyone held attention, save for the few who didn’t know better than to fidget. The leaders on stage whispered amongst each other, perhaps about the crowd, or what to do next. You observed carefully, wanting to get as good of an idea of their mannerisms before interacting with them.

There was the old man with literal rose-tinted lenses who seemed interested in a weird watch some kid was using. He had the young man give him some demonstrations, insisting he needed to know how it worked.

The next to catch your eye was a woman who had her fuschia hair done up in two rather elaborate buns. Her eyes skimmed over the crowd with a slight smile-- well, you’d consider it more of a smirk— until she saw you. She winked at you, and her lips curved upwards in what anyone would define as a smirk.

Somewhat flustered, you averted your eyes by moving on to one of the two blue haired men. You chose the younger one, as the older seemed a little intense. Well, really, as soon as you looked at him, he looked at you, and was a bit embarrassing.

The man with midnight blue hair slinked around with a certain deviousness about him, almost reminding you of a cat… it could have been his styled hair, too. He kept his posture tall, looking almost forced, as he skirted along the edges of the crowd and shook the hands of those who reached for him. He stopped to call for one of his peers, a short woman with red hair.

She excused herself from the company of the taller lady, and trotted confidently to the side of her blue-haired cohort. The skirt of her uniformed bounced about, but the hem sremained in place. It must have been like a hoop skirt in structure. He whispered something to her, and she took his place in greeting while he made his way back to the platform at the top of the stairs.

Finally, you watched the only one of the five who hadn’t associated himself with the crowd. He stared out over the sea of people, and only watched. Unconsciously, you had been moving further and further forward to get a better look at everyone, and without realizing it, were now only a few feet away from the bottom step. You stared up at this man, who even towered over the woman with purple hair.

You looked over him, from toe to tip, and as you reached his face, his gaze fell upon you. This time, you didn’t look away. He moved to the edge of the stairs, and you held your ground. After an excruciating moment of silent eye contact, he gave you a solemn nod. He called out to the four who had left him, which startled you to the point of letting out a small yelp. Luckily, no one heard, aside from one woman who gave you a soft simper. After everyone had accustomed themselves to the new setting, the introductions were started.

After the short speech, you were all divided into five groups. Each went with someone different, you landing in the old man’s, who you now knew as Charon. He prattled on about the science division he led, stopping to make the occasional joke or freak someone out. You looked down at your phone for one second to check the time, and next thing you knew, he was giving you a horrified look. A couple of older grunts looked at you with pity, knowing there was nothing that they could do for you now. Pocketing the device just as quickly, you let out a questioning hum.

He stage whispered, “Stay away from water tomorrow, something awful is going to happen,” with all the drama in his old bones (which was apparently quite a bit!).

You could feel everyone staring at you; amazing job, once again. “Why?”

“Something bad is going to happen. That’s it. Can’t say more.” He carried on as if nothing had happened. After half an hour more, ID cards were handed to everyone, along with their uniforms. Uniform bags in one hand and cards in the other, all of you were sent home with the directions to be back at the headquarters tomorrow morning, in your uniform, at nine o'clock sharp.

When you got home, you hung the bag in your closet, and had something quick to eat for dinner. You thought about showering tomorrow, but quickly dismissed it. What if you fell and busted your head open, or something like that? No chances. Even though you preferred to in the morning, you showered, dressed, and went to sleep, ready for tomorrow’s full orientation.

You were up and dressed by six, the warning from yesterday still in the back of your mind. You dragged yourself into the bathroom, jumping as you almost turned on the water. What if it had somehow turned into acid? No, no, that was silly. But, what if you ended up staining your new uniform? You sighed before removing your clothes, leaving you naked in front of your bathroom sink. You brushed your teeth warily. Why was this scaring you so much? Typically, you never cared about this kind of thing, but you couldn’t help but worry about it. You decided to try and relax, as those little tasks didn’t seem to backfire. After redressing, you headed towards your new place of work. You felt a little self-conscious in these clothes, with the faux-silky fabric slipping around, but you’d manage.

You arrived at about eight fifty five, and surprisingly, there was practically no one else there yet. You recognized a few people from yesterday, considering everyone was yet to receive their hairpiece. There was that one guy who was sniffing himself, a few of the people who were actually dressed nice, and one that was wearing a shirt of a popular children’s cartoon earlier. That seemed to be it. More people shuffled in by the minute, tugging at the strange uniform with uncertainty.

Soon enough, nine o’ clock came around. Then nine fifteen. Nine thirty. Nine forty five. A few people had left, but a girl came in with Sawbucks coffee. She seemed content enough, and also decided to show you her cup labeled “Sin Lord.” By the time it was ten, nearly half of the room had left. You chatted idly with others, until you were finally greeted by your superiors. You were all given the rundown of things, and provided with a schedule. After apologizing for their lack of punctuality, they explained it was to test who would and wouldn’t wait. Those who did were hired, and those who didn’t would be expected to turn in their suits. Sin Lord was accepted, since they apparently didn’t have anything proving she wasn’t there at nine save for witnesses, but snitches get stitches.

They started everyone off with little jobs, in fact most were given what would be considered to be chores, including you, receiving the special task of watering the plants; a couple of the people who were in your group yesterday giggled. You didn’t doubt that it’d been given to you on purpose. You were also sure you were just being picked on. You were even given a little hand-drawn map with plant locations marked on it, as well as a pen to mark them off as you go.

You started on your merry little way, sprayduck in hand. You were careful not to disturb its contents. About halfway through your work, you heard beeping, and what sounded like increasing water pressure. You ran out of the room, only seconds from being drenched by sprinklers. A couple of older passers-by congratulated you, but for what? Escaping some sort of malfunction? Just after you had finished and put up the pail, you encountered who you had suspected was behind your near misfortune. He seemed to be in distress though, so you would give him a chance. You approached the man, hoping to help in some way.

“Is there something wrong?”

He didn’t hesitate to start. “There’s a buizel in the lab, and I lost it. I need you to find it immediately. The lab should be on your map,” he explained, and left without giving you time to reject his request. Well, never before had you felt so much regret in trying to help, so that’s an experience to put in your book. You trudged back to the lab reluctantly, just knowing you were going to be soaked. This was it.

The lab was a mess, which did not help to appease the pounding in your chest. You stepped around wet papers, making you cringe. There were too many upside down boxes to count, and more lumpy blankets than you would ever expect in this environment. You knew it had to be a set up. You grabbed a nearby yard stick, and started using it to prod at any potential hiding spots, while your other hand carried a butterfree net, graciously provided by another scientist.

As you sneaked around, you caught a glimpse of orange. Your breath caught in your throat as you forced yourself to look behind the computer’s monitor, eyes meeting with two pale blue buttons. It was a buizel doll. You seized the doll, and fell back into the chair. If this torment was going to follow you through every second of your time here, you would quit as soon as possible.

Letting your previous fear subside, you rubbed the doll absentmindedly. As you regained composure, you lifted yourself from the plastic chair. You checked the time, and then the schedule. It was about fifteen minutes until the lunch break, and it would take you about that time to get there. You set out immediately, and were stopped almost instantly by the very man behind this elaborate joke, Charon.

“Oh, so you found the buizel? Good job, kid.” He gave you a loose pat on the back and puttered off, not even bothering to take the doll back. Did he get these things just to pull jokes on people? You continued to clutch the doll as you made your way up to the cafeteria. You sat down in a far corner without anything to eat, as you hadn’t brought any money, which was a little naïve on your part. You toyed with your doll until you were alerted by someone else’s presence: the sniffy guy. He smiled in a reserved manner, and put his hand up in greeting.

“Hello!” You squeaked, hiding your doll.

“Hey, wait, that was cool. Where did you get it?” He seemed genuinely interested.

“That Charon guy? He keeps picking on me because I checked the time while he was talking, and now I’m on his hit list or something. He’s going to end up making a false monsoon or something, I just know it.”

He cackled and grinned, not believing how far you believed he would take a joke. “At least you got a memento, either way.”

Someone else’s tray clattered beside of you. Oh yes, your previous acquaintanceship.

“Sup, Sin Lord?” Beaming, she nodded and gave you a thumbs up. A few more people made their way over to your table, including some older grunts. You all took turns introducing yourselves. There was Todd, which was a major improvement in name from Sniffy, Cinna, who you had honestly wished was legally named Sin Lord, and many others. One of the girls, Jordan, shared her food with you. A guy who called himself Frederick offered you bottled water, which you took only after he had opened it for you and was sure it was safe. You all shared stories and joked around until the break was over, leading you all to disperse lethargically. The rest of your day was relatively uneventful until the end.

“Wait. You mean to tell me they haven’t been caught yet?”

“Nope. It’s crazy, right? He got me in the first fifteen minutes.”

Several older grunts swarmed you, cheering. It was broken up seconds later by none other than Charon. He parted them, easily getting to you. You still held onto the doll, your other arm hanging loosely at your side. You flinched as he splashed a cup of water in your face.

“Welcome to Team Galactic, kid.” As soon as the words came from Charon’s mouth, cheers erupted from everyone. Even though you were wet, people were still congratulating you in dodging the several attempts tossed at you during the day. Your dampened fringe hung in your eyes and stuck to your face, but you still shouted in triumph along with them. The three administrators and Cyrus came around the corner, and everyone snapped out of celebration. They didn’t even glance, and everyone let out a sigh of relief once they had exited.

One of the older grunts spoke out. “Anyways, newbie, you gotta go to the auditorium and get the pièce de résistance,” he said, ruffling your still-wet hair. Bidding farewell, you ambled your way there. You were presented with what you were promised: the wig, along with a model head for it to rest on when not in use. On your way home, you picked up something to eat and a teal eyebrow pencil, which they luckily sold. You stashed away your newfound treasures, and slept soundly as rain pounded against your window.
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