“I think I’m going to be sick.”

Because life had a way of playing cruel jokes, Saint found himself once again at the mercy of three things: The vast oceanic unknown, a rickety boat with a mid-life crisis naming scheme, and The Captain. Of the three, the last is the most formidable opponent, by virtue of it being impossible to say no to him and his stupidly charismatic little dog tail.

When The Captain looked back to him, Saint was not by the edge, hurling his guts out as God intended. No, he was smart—he was acting as counterweight. No, he was not clinging like a terrified koala to the furthest bench, holding the nonworking motor as if it’s his only lifeline. He was counterweight.

“Cap… captain… are you sure we can’t just. Observe the ocean on land? At a safe distance?” he balked, staring at the veritable landscape of rusting shipwrecks. He’s not sure if the bleached thing hanging off that ruined mast was a skeleton, but he refused to perceive it regardless.

“I don’t fear the ocean!” Saint insisted despite white-knuckling the floorboards. “I’m afraid of what’s inside it! Don’t you remember the last time we—”

And in a cruel, fantastic display of comedic timing, the ocean stirred, like a hawk detecting some wet pathetic purse poodle on a sidewalk.

The noise that escaped Saint then was, coincidentally, exactly that of a squeaky toy.

“TAIYAKI!” He said, calling out his Gyarados rather than his last meal. Taiyaki burst out from his ball, his array of golden scales glistening in the bright light bouncing off the waves.

The gyarados looked up from where he emerged by the side of his trainer’s dingy little boat, being greeted by the sight of a creature about four times his weight, with 50% of that weight dedicated to its gaping maw— and thought, Ah, shit.

“Ice fang!”

Saint didn’t know what was keeping The Captain all bright-eyed and rose-cheeked in the face of death’s abyssal maw but good God, can he get some?!

“I don’t know! I don’t know!” Actually, he would know. Saint had far more Pokémon experience than The Captain, not to mention his all-time favorite versions were the Sun and Moon games and their respective sequels, but it was hard to remember anything when you’re fending off a panic attack—and also his eyes were closed.

Taiyaki was going through it. After slamming the impossibly large opponent with his jaws—and failing to eat him, naturally—he’d been lucky enough to take only a swipe on his side before retreating to a safer distance. Kyogre knew how long his luck would last.

<Holy—> the giant sushi blinked as an even gianter sushi broke through the waves, hosing down the massive crab. <Okay, okay—could really use some strategy right now, humans!> Huge waves ripped through the water, sloshing the flimsy boat around like a tekdek.

“JUST KEEP BITING IT.”

“Amazing? Captain, it’s eating your Pokémon!” Saint sputters, flabbergasted at The Captain taking a moment to take in this—abomination. This is the second time he’s witnessed the man laugh in the face of an undersea nightmare. It makes him wonder just what he has seen— not in the game, but in real life, because he knows he hasn’t been playing UNOVR long enough to become like this.

The battle rages on.

Captain’s Totodile—apparently called Roger—joins the fray, saluting and jabbering in a cute duck-like way that made Saint want to give him a treat, though the water type was intent on self-service.

Both Saint and Taiyaki’s eyes bulge as the tiny, tiny Totodile sinks his jaws at the perfect spot, dealing a hefty chunk of damage.

“What are you feeding him?” Saint says— now it’s his turn to marvel. It’s perfect, because it forces him to keep his eyes open, and it’s here that he can finally get a good look at what they’re dealing with.

<That’s the spirit!> Taiyaki roars. <Come on, fellas! Let’s chomp ‘em down! JAWS! OUT!> He dove back in, weaving past the tendrils to try and nab another bite.

“But that’s his family,” Saint says, anguished despite knowing The Captain was definitely in the right. Pokemon weren’t like real life animals, they had consciousness frighteningly similar to those of people, and while Wishiwashi were innately capable of dismantling themselves and reforming, there’s no confirmation that Whydah actually likes exploding into a billion tiny fish.

There is, however, confirmation that Roger likes to eat the souls of the innocent. Saint squints as Captain gives him a playful wink and smile, unable to determine if the man is a marine expert or the reason why CPS for virtual fish will eventually be established.

“We’ll table your fish-owning ethics for now,” Saint grumbles. “I think I know what we’re dealing with.” It’s a quick enough recall, once he gets a good look at the massive thing and sees it’s nothing like the hundreds of Pokémon in his nerdy data banks. “That’s a Guzzlord!”

The Guzzlord in question roars with fury, being bitten this way and that. Its tendrils smack against Taiyaki and Whydah, trying simultaneously to dislodge Roger, whose chompers have latched onto its claw like a barnacle.

“It’s an Ultra Beast. They’re technically not Pokémon, more like—like aliens in this reality! They—shit!”

The Guzzlord slams its massive body into the surf, causing a wave the size of Texas to come hurtling towards them.

Saint grabbed hold of the gunwale, for all the good that would do his frail little body. “Captain! We’re going to get thrown overboard!”

Panic is in Saint’s eyes as The Captain gives him the most literal puppy-dog eyes he’s ever seen. “CAPTAIN, THIS ISN’T THE TIME TO BE CUTE!” He grips the gunwale harder for fear of doing something stupid, like throw his hands up or shaking The Captain while their watery grave rapidly approaches.

Before he knows it however, the man gives him a clap on the back—causing Saint to stumble, due the lack of meat on his bones. The arm wraps around his shoulders like the safety bar of a roller coaster, and while that is reassuring, it doesn’t change the fact they’re still on the damn coaster.

The Captain does not have to tell him twice: Saint braces himself until his knuckles turn white, vertigo hitting as the boat practically goes airborne and comes dangerously close to a flip—salvaged solely by Whydah’s strength. Gallons of water spray onto the deck, Saint scrambling as the soles of his shoes slip.

By the time the wave subsides, Saint is waterlogged, gripping The Captain’s arm like a cat saved from a canal. His eyes are open and a little bloodshot due to the sea salt, and when he coughs, he hacks up seaweed.

The Guzzlord slumps in the water, still towering over them with its bulk, but its biting appendages have fallen and are now floating lifelessly in the bay.

“Poke… Ball... Throw a Poké Ball…” he croaks, because pants-shitting encounters aside, this would be an excellent specimen to study. His shaking fingers pull out the Golden Poké Ball from his inventory, tossing it overboard.

He lives for this.

The ocean. The power of the waves. The mysterious unknown that lurks in the depths. Braving that which most people would never dare brave. There is no fear in The Captain's expression, but for a moment there, his expression is a mask of concern — that which is born out of the respect he has for his environment. This may be a virtual ocean, but it's an ocean all the same, and even in the depths of this simulation, these dangers are not to be taken lightly.

But, gods, isn't life just so fucking great?

It's the Swimmer subclass that makes every single drop of water slide off him as if the entirety of his being were impermeable, but even if he had ended up soaking wet by the end of this little ordeal, he would be smiling just as brightly as he does now.

"Man..." It's the whisper of a thought that never comes to be fully voiced, for the expression is followed by a light laugh and a not-so-light couple of pats on Saint's back. "You did great, bud. That was a good one."

He finally lets go to reach for a Pokéball just as Saint had mentioned, chucking it at the unconscious and rapidly-sinking creature. Good thing it's fucking enormous. What had Saint said it was called?

"...You said it's an alien or something, ye?" Now his attention is on their little vessel: inspecting the damage to figure if it can actually take them back to the shore. That's a hell of a lot of water, huh? Weren't it for Whydah being under the boat, they'd probably be sinking by now, but of course The Captain won't worry Saint with such a trivial little problem.

"Looked like a weird big crab more than anything... Guess it'd make sense that they'd make alien Pokémon that look like sea creatures, though. That's how a lot of cultures used to explain a lot of the weirder ones... or mermaids. Everything got turned into a damn mermaid myth." He laughs at that one, sounding as carefree as ever.