amore insecta

He sighed happily at being in this special place - the place where no one else belonged - his place. Small hiking boots padded across the hardwood floor towards an old desk. Above the floor was a slanted, triangular roof decorated with various anatomical posters of bug-type Pokemon and sticky, glow-in-the-dark stars. Bugsy’s desk also held several items of interest: a old microscope with a tray of lenses set to one side, a purple binder, several jars with samples he’d collected from the Ilex Forest (silk from a spinarak, part of a kakuna shell), and a stack of reference books.

Bugsy pulled his chair out to sit down and get to work. He’d collected more samples to take notes on, and, reaching down to unzip his backpack, pulled them out and placed them onto the desk. Most of the new items he’d discovered were fairly uninteresting or multiples of things he’d already found before, but there was one thing that…oh, it was simply amazing.

Within Bugsy’s hands were the large, delicate wing scales of what he thought to be a butterfree. But not just any butterfree, no. They definitely weren’t the same light blue of an average type, but rather a lovely shade of light rose, indicative of a shiny type. Excitement welled up within the violette’s chest and he opened the purple binder upon his desk, quickly writing down every last detail he could observe from the scales. Mid-furious scribbling, Bugsy had a sudden thought. These scale didn’t seem to have been lost very long ago…that butterfree had to still be out there somewhere. His eyes grew large at the realization, and he immediately knew what he had to do. The chair fell to the floor with a bang as Bugsy once again grabbed his backpack and a butterfree net, rushed down the stairs, and burst through the door, leaving it hanging open once again.

“BUGSY,” his mother called out loudly, running to the door and watching as her son sped off on his shiny bicycle, “where are you going??”

“Ilex, Ma!!” he called back. He heard a sigh and a shrill “Be back by dinner! And be careful!!”

The words were merely a fading echo in the bug-type trainer’s ears as he pedaled faster towards the forest. It was one of the only places his mother was actually okay with him going by himself, though a thought crossed his mind that it might be nice to have someone with him in case that shiny was hard to catch. As he rode along, he momentarily took his eyes off the path to press a button on his pokegear to call a friend who wasn’t so far away. After a few seconds, the ringing stopped as the call was answered, and Bugsy quickly relayed his plans to the pretty girl on the other end. As soon as he hung up, the boy was grinning from ear to eat - not only was he going to catch a rare pokemon today, but he was going to be with her.

On one particular morning, Bugsy was lying on the floor, a magazine opened up before him as he swung his legs back and forth in the air, the toes of his socks slipping down slightly. This specific magazine dealt with entomological research in the various regions, and the article that had him so interested focused on an invasive species in Johto. It wasn’t uncommon - to have new pokemon species accidentally introduced in new regions, with people occasionally releasing them or focusing on breeding. The thing about bug-types, however, was that they tended to procreate quickly, and not all invasive species were a good thing.

The magazine described an issue in northern Johto, near Mt. Mortar. All it had taken were a couple of foreign ninjask being brought into the area for a brood of nincada to be created, though at the current time, the magazine stated that these still hadn’t emerged from the ground. Thankfully, these were a bug-type that took a while to develop. The ninjask, however, were alive and well, their buzzing cry echoing throughout the area. So far, the ninjask hadn’t been caught and really didn’t seem to want to. As he read further, Bugsy bit his tongue, standing to grab a map from his bedroom desk. 

Mt. Mortar...it was pretty far from Azalea - he sighed. If anyone could catch those pokemon, surely it was him! He had half a mind to ask why no one had contacted him yet - a gym leader and a bug expert? He scoffed. Guess I’ll just have to do it myself. Immediately, the boy grabbed his knapsack and a butterfree net. He shoved the magazine into his bag, the title of the article visible - “Invasive Issues at Mt. Mortar” - and quickly ran down the stairs. As soon as he’d begun his journey, however, it came to an abrupt halt.

“Benjamin Conway,” the voice said sternly, though the source flashed a kind smile. Bugsy froze, looking back at his mother and returning the smile, nervously. “Where are you headed off to today?” she asked.

The gym leader hesitated for a moment. “Um...well, I....”

He suddenly noticed her eyes moving to his bag and its contents. Oh no! The magazine! I left it open! He knew she’d never let him go that far alone. Dang it!

Bugsy watched as his mother’s eyebrows raised in surprise. 

“Mt. Mortar, huh?”

She crossed her arms and chuckled before pausing and releasing a heavy sigh. Her face - it was one of a mother who knew her son was growing up, but still worried about him. She’d known what it was like to be in his position, having had the same exploratory nature as a child as he had now. Bugsy swallowed as the gears in his mother’s mind turned round. Finally, she spoke.

“Look, Bugsy,” she began. “I really don’t have a problem with you going off like this - trust me. I get it - I was just like you when I was younger.” She paused, looking in him the eyes. “But, if you’re going to be traveling that far, you need to at least take someone with you. Surely you can call on Morty or Falkner to go. I trust them.”

For a moment, he looked at his mother in disbelief, finally resigning to the idea of taking someone with him.

“Oh, alright,” he sighed.

Immediately the boy ran back upstairs to grab his pokegear and find someone willing to travel with him to the north. His first thought was of Morty, but...he knew the gym leader had been spreading himself thin lately. Falkner it was.

Quickly, he pressed the contact button he had for Falkner and waited until an answer. As soon as it clicked, Bugsy spilled out his idea.

“Falkner! HeyIwaswonderingifyoucouldcomewithmetoMt.Mortar! It’s like...super important! Butmymomwon’tletmegoaloneandshesaidshetrustedyou! So...will you please come with me? Please?”