Chapter Text
Ingo’s nose was tickly.
It itched badly. Something soft and fuzzy was pushed against it, irritating it. He turned his face slightly but found he could not escape it. He was surrounded by fur.
The fur swelled and dipped in a gently lulling motion, and Ingo’s head moved with it, resting against its soft surface. It moved with the same steady pattern as Ingo’s breathing, deep and slow. A steady thump, thump, thumping was echoing quietly by his ear. Ingo shifted slightly, and was pulled tighter against it, pressing the noise further into Ingo until it was almost the only thing he could hear. A new sound rumbled, appearing beside the rhythmic thudding, a gentle growly purr.
Ingo could feel how the purr vibrated through the fur, tickling his nose further.
He could smell the traces of fresh mountain air trapped in the fur, the near imperceptible harshness of crunchy salt, the sweetness of plump beans, and a wilder musky smell that was made Ingo think of powerful Pokémon and cliffs. The smells were comforting, scratching at something in Ingo’s head, a reminder or a memory of something…
Mind hazy, dredging itself up from unconsciousness, Ingo tried to reach up and rub at his nose. His arm was stuck, pinned to his side. He might have panicked at the feeling of being trapped, if his brain wasn’t still sluggishly catching up to reality.
“Srrrnk-…. Wherrr-… Ugh.” He’s too warm, overheating, huffing in humid air through the fur over his face. There were strands of hair in his mouth. It was suffocating. “Where- Where am I?” He managed to croak out, voice rough, sound muffled by the heavy fur pressed against him.
For a dazed moment, Ingo was confused by his own voice… Was it always so high-pitched? It sounded higher than usual, squeaking slightly from disuse. The disorientation faded quickly though, and Ingo forgot why his own voice had shocked him.
He sounded the same as usual, if a little tired.
His muffled question prompted the fur to move. It pulled back from his face slightly. It allowed Ingo to finally open his eyes. It was dark, but Ingo’s eyes were already adjusted.
Millimetres from his face was an expanse of short thick fur, a rich lilac. There was a ruffled indent from where his face had been pressed, disturbing the pale purple fur. Above where he had been resting was a brilliant golden gem, imbedded in the chest and shining brightly. Ingo looked up further and came face to face with a dark purple muzzle and two sharp red eyes. Another golden jewel, and a beautiful long feather, crowned its head. Its ears twitched slightly, flicking in a relaxed manner, and it bore its fangs in what Ingo recognised as a smile.
He was sitting in the lap of a Pokémon. Its claws were wrapped around him, pulling him against its chest, while Ingo was squished into a ball, curled up. He was sat on the Pokémon’s furry legs, small in comparison to the tall Pokémon. The paws were a heavy weight on his back, keeping him secure and safe.
A Sne… A Sneasel?
A Sneasler.
No…
“Lady Sneasler?” Ingo’s voice cracked around the words. Cloying dust had settled thick in his throat, clogging it. His mouth was unpleasantly dry.
Without Lady Sneasler’s fur pressed into his face, he could begin to smell other things around him. There was an overwhelming thick smell of petroleum-based oil (what was petroleum?) everywhere, permeating everything. It was very unpleasant, too sickly-sweet and strong, painting the back of his tongue in a terrible taste. Ingo almost coughed, gagging on the powerful odour. It was an eerily familiar smell.
“Snneeasss.” Lady Sneasler confirmed, bumping her nose against his head. He could feel the wet of her nose on his forehead, before disappearing up and along his hairline.
His hat wasn’t on his head, he realised.
“My hat…” Perhaps not the most vital safety check, but Ingo felt naked without it. It was one of his most valuable items and he would be heartbroken to find it missing or even more damaged than it already was.
Thankfully, it was not far, as a moment later Lady Sneasler reached to her side and placed the hat on his head. It slipped down, falling pass his ears and covering his eyes. He reached up to adjust it, but found the sleeves of his jacket were in the way, hanging too long and loose on his arms. He had to push the sleeves out of the way. Ingo managed to finally push his hat back enough that he could see again, but he could feel how close to slipping it was. A tiny shift and it would fall off-balanced and block his vision again.
Lady Sneasler made a noise like a chuckle and used a claw tip to help Ingo poise the hat into a more secure position. Ingo thanked her politely, glad for the assistance. He would right his cab properly once safety checks were done and he was sure that they were at a safe station.
“Where are we? Why are we-“ Ingo managed to pull his face far away from Lady Sneasler’s chest to glance around, getting his first look at their location. His question died in his throat as there was a sharp pain that quickly faded into a dull throb. He felt close to remembering something, but no memory emerged.
“Sne-snea…” Lady Sneasler made a non-committed reply, and Ingo interpreted it as the Pokémon being unsure about their location as well. She let Ingo get up, setting him on his feet, before standing up herself. She had been resting against a wall, and was now using her claws to dislodge grime and dust that had settled on her fur.
Ingo looked around, staring in wonder at the carved walls, creating a perfectly semi-circular cave. The smell of petroleum based oil was even stronger, cloying and recognizable. Ingo could not smell anything else, his sense of smell too weak to divine anything other than the oil. Gravel crunched beneath his boots that shifted awkwardly around his feet. He didn’t pay his ill-fitting shoes any mind, too distracted by this place.
The surroundings were utterly alien, like nowhere he had ever seen before, yet… something about this area was familiar.
He could not remember where they had been before coming to this location. He could not remember his journey, or where this station was.
“A cave. Are we in Wayward Cave? I must admit that I do no recall such an area there. We must be much deeper in the caves than I’ve been befo- WHOA!” Ingo tried to take a step, but immediately tripped on something hard, falling face-first into the ground. He could feel grimy oil beneath his palms, which prickled with the ache of scraped skin. It stung fiercely and Ingo knew immediately he had drawn blood in his clumsy fall.
There was a jarring slap of pain against one of his arms, caused by a line of hard metal that he had fallen onto. Ingo cried out in pain, shocked that he had derailed so easily.
“Sneas!” An alarmed call echoed as soon at Ingo had fallen over. Lady Sneasler was at his side in an instance, long claws gently supporting him as he pushed himself to his hands and knees, feeling woozy and off-balanced.
“Do not be concerned, Lady Sneasler! I can right my cab immediately!” He was on his feet a moment later, sliding about in his too-big boots, but finding his balance well-enough to stand. Ingo looked down at what he had tripped on, the strip of metal sticking high out of the gravel, with a matching twin across from it, separated by wooden beams. The metal and wooden was in the middle of the cave, part of a much larger pattern that disappeared in both directions along the tunnel. “Tracks…” The name came to Ingo automatically as he stared down at them. He took a step back, sensing danger. They were unsafe to approach, everyone must stand clear of them, and remain behind the yellow line. “I wonder what they are for?....”
Ingo got the vague impression of rattling metal and the squeak of well-oiled wheels. Electricity hummed in the half-forgotten memory, and the ground moved beneath his fe-
Ingo took another step back, feeling dazed. There was a very mild headache behind his eyes. A memory brushed close to the surface before sinking below the waves, returning back to the depths of his mind like a hungry Sharpedo.
He almost tripped again, on his own trousers this time, and fell back against Lady Sneasler. The Pokémon caught him easily, supporting him with a paw. Ingo looked up at her.
And then looked up and up and up further until he finally made eye contact with her.
“You are a bit taller than memory serves, my Lady. Not that I seem to remember much.” His Noble Pokémon was significantly taller actually. While she had always stood high above him, at least 2 heads taller, he was now not even half her height.
This was odd. Something was wrong. His head was aching slightly. Ingo reached out to lay a hand on Sneasler’s paw for support, feeling dizzy.
Rather than a hand grasping at one of Lady Sneasler’s sharp claws, it was the sleeve of Ingo’s jacket, hanging past his wrist and covering his hand, that fell onto Sneasler’s paw. His hand was hidden by his jacket. For the first time since his strange awakening, Ingo looked down at himself properly, taking in his appearance.
“M-My clothes?” He stuttered out, with his too high voice. All his clothes were massive, several sizes bigger than they used to be, hanging off him like blankets. His coat was trailing along the ground, and his Pearl Clan tunic was nearly down to his ankles. His trousers were baggy and nearly falling down, and his boots were comically large on his feet. All his clothes have gotten bigger. Except… no, that wasn’t right. He looked up at Lady Sneasler who loomed over her Warden, carefully watching him in case he fell again.
Ingo had become smaller.
“I seemed to have arrived at a very strange terminus, Lady Sneasler.” He informed the Noble Pokémon with a serious voice, even though it sounded slightly ridiculous with his new high-pitched childish voice.
Lady Sneasler placed a hand on her hip, and flicked her feather, as she made a low chirruping mrrp~!, as if agreeing with him.
Ingo looked around. He did not know where he was. Was this still Hisui? A deep longing filled his chest, blooming like a flower until it overtook every thought in his mind.
“I want to go home….”
“A motion sensor has tripped on the Red Line.”
“Probably just some Drilbur. I’ll send Cloud and Cameron down there to scare them off.”
“Copy.”