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theonlyren · 2 months

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Ryme City Gengar

This is Kati

She's my Gengar partner.

DISCLAIMER: The following is my account of how I came to own my Gengar, Kati. It is a true story, however, I have falsified names and omitted the direct address of relevant parties in this story for their “protection.” Please do not seek these people out or harass them. They are not worth your time or energy. This is not a happy tale, especially if you like Ghost-types, are a Hex Maniac, or have a shred of common decency. Now, without further ado.

Consider the Gastly.

Gastly is one of the most well-documented, well-known, common ghost types across the regions. It’s in Oak’s original Pokedex and even shows up in Laventon’s old field journals. Its body is 95% gas, and it’s one of the lightest known pokemon in the world, to the point where a stiff wind will make the thing vanish (it’ll re-materialize later just fine, though). The remaining 5% of it is somewhat less clear. It could be argued that this 5% is undoubtedly what gives the Pokemon its Ghost typing. Some believe it is the souls of those its gas has killed, others believe it’s the ghostly essence of graveyard grievances, or forlorn memories of departed people or places.

All Kati remembers is waking up in front of the grave of a girl named Catherine.

I was backpacking through Galar at the time, I had the clothes on my back, the spares in my pack, some few thousand Pokedollars, basic Pokemon care and healing supplies, a phone, and my Eevee and Zorua, Vivi and Aka, respectively. I was looking for a place to crash for the night and wound up at a village in the southern edge of the region. Extremely quaint, very lovely, and I ran into the residents of a very old chateau, whose family had lived there for generations. They were trust fund kids, basically. The husband, who we’ll call John Doe, lived in the estate with his wife, Jane, his parents - his father being the local (and, if you’ve been following my Chatotter, a certain) reverend - and his grandparents. I met John and Jane at the town's only pub, and they were utter sweethearts; to this day, I still wish them well and the best for them. Upon telling them I was the son of Pokemon Rangers, and an Arceist, they asked if I could help them with an issue they’ve been having at the chapel.

Now, to a normal person, this probably would’ve set off every red flag in the universe. Supposedly rich family is inquiring about an outsider for “help”? Boi they’re about to steal your Pokemon and lock you in the basement. Turns out, something being locked in the basement was the issue. I initially declined, but then John made an offer to pay me a… moderately life changing amount of Pokedollars, provided I could solve the issue, which- er, piqued my curiosity enough to at least humor the couple. I figured I had Aka with me, and if things become sketchy he could use a clever illusion to help bail me outta there.

This village I went to was absurdly secluded, they hardly ever received tourists or travelers. The local authorities were in the back-pocket of John’s parents, which he was quick to explain as he led me to the estate. Once we arrived, he played me off as a guest of his wife’s side of the family, and I was introduced to this man’s elders.

I know the saying goes to respect your elders, but one look at this man’s family told me everything I needed to know about why John trusted an outsider with this. These were the most miserable, leery-eyed, snobbish, conservative-ass, “only polite because I have to be” motherfuckers I have ever had the discomfort of meeting and breaking bread with. The bread was the only good thing about their dinner as well, come to think of it, with unseasoned vegetables, beans, and… ok, the shepherd’s pie was alright, but still.

Later that night, John led me out as if to politely escort me off, but detoured around the back of the mansion to the village’s church, where we went through a cellar entrance.

And that’s where I would meet Kati for the first time.

As he opened the door, I saw paper talismans on the interior side. Cleanse tags. Prayer tags. The like. They dotted the stairwell down, to a locked door, which my escort unlocked to reveal a room, lined - wall-to-wall - with tags. And sitting, suspended in a cage, also laced with these tags, was a Gastly.

Cleanse Tags have long been a staple item for the traveling trainer, useful in helping ward off unwanted wild encounters, if a little uncomfortable for most pokemon to hold. A ghost type can handle holding one for the sake of their trainer.

An entire basement lined with them is torture of the highest order. Especially for a ghost.

This Gastly was well and truly trapped. Being locked in stasis inside a Pokeball would’ve been a kinder fate. Everywhere in this room that she could look, she saw searing wards and condemning reminders that told her in no uncertain terms that she was an unwelcome monster. She could not escape this place, the talismans well and truly suppressed any and all ghost energy she could even try and muster. No phasing, no vanishing, no shrinking or morphing, nothing.

John wanted her freed.

I was quick to agree.

It was clear the man was wrestling with the idea of freeing her for a while, and, when I pressed him about why the poor thing was locked away in the first place, he explained that the Gastly had been locked down here for generations, his late great-(great?)-grandfather had apparently caught the thing at the local graveyard, “communing with Giratina,” if you believe such malarky. So his family took it upon themselves to “catch” the ghost and seal her away in their church to cleanse or contain the sin within her, to the point where it’s become an obsession for the family, and they’ve never known peace since. So it was, she remained down there for something to the effect of over eighty years.

At least three generations of Does is apparently what it took before one realized “hmm, maybe this Gastly down here is fine???”

So of course because things had to be dramatic, we heard the upper cellar door open the moment I tore enough tags off the cage to get the Gastly out. John told me to get my Zorua out and hide as he’d go distract whoever it was. I did so and told Aka to blend us into the wall. John went up, tried to tell his father the Gastly had escaped, and when he angrily came down to verify, well.

The Gastly didn’t like seeing the old man’s face.

She gassed my face to break free and immediately went for the old-timer. The illusion broke and I now had an angered reverend cursing my name, breaking every rule of engagement, since “the next coming of Giratina” was on the line as he threw his entire fuckin’ team at me. A “prize” furfrou, a machop, and a houndour.

Trying to remember the fight as best I can, Vivi was strong enough to take out the Houndour, but the Machop made quick work of Aka. My new Gastly friend managed to poison the Machop in turn, but a bite from the Houndour nearly took her out instantly. Vivi weakened the Furfrou and Machop with a quick Swift, but, well, at the time my two team members were both weak to fighting, so the Machop was quick to take him out as well.

It was at that point I discovered the Gastly knew will-o-wisp as it cursed the Machop with its flames, taking it out, and I had an idea.

It was time to run from a trainer battle.

I kicked the Houndour in the face (sorry pup!) and told Gastly to set the remaining tags on fire. With the ones I had already desecrated, she had strength enough to set the room ablaze, which freaked out the reverend father and his pokemon enough that I was able to throw an empty pokeball at the Gastly to “catch” her, lob her out of the cellar as she struggled to break out, and get the absolute hell out of there.

John was waiting in a car outside. An extra broken-and-lobbed pokeball later to get the Gastly away from the reverend, we were driving from the estate and I had a very angry Gastly I was trying to calm down in the backseat of a speeding vehicle. It took a while, but she calmed down when it became clear we were tearing her away from that awful place.

John dropped me off at a graveyard, presumably (and, I would later find, purposefully) the best spot he thought to release the Gastly, - cliche, I know, - he wired me the money, and sped off. The Gastly tore itself free from me, and hovered at one particular grave. It was an old headstone, weathered and faint, but I could just barely make out the name “Catherine” on it. I sat near her as she stared at it. And we stayed there for a while; long time. Appropriately, I think we left at about midnight, when I offered her one more Pokeball and the chance to travel with me, safely, and see the world she was locked away from. Gave her the name “Kati” then and there, both as a shortening of her old name, and because it translates to “Pure.”

We beat feet from that village and never looked back.

My backpacking journey was a lot more comfortable after that, I’ll say that much. Dude gave me bank.

But, here we are, me and the reverend, locked in something of an awkward stalemate where if either of us try and report what happened, we have to inadvertently confess to crimes we ourselves committed. Pokémon Abuse for the Does. And uh, Arson and Pokémon A&B for me. Trainer Disengagement too, but that’s a misdemeanor more ‘n anything. The fact that both of us have a decent amount of influence, should things get legal, doesn’t help either. Haven’t been back in or extradited to Galar since, and it’s basically been something like a 10 year cold case, so I’m not too concerned about this actually biting me in the ass, but the Reverend Father Doe sure is getting spicy with me on Chatotter.

He can rot for all I care.

Kati’s mine.

And she can burn through any holy tag you throw at her, now.

#pokemon #pkmn irl #unreality #pokemon irl #gengar #Kati the Gengar #gastly #Pokemon stories #I'm gonna link him this post too #I don't think he knows his son orchestrated her freedom and frankly i'm tired of being his scape-gogoat #First art by FuneralFugitive on twitter #The gastly pic is from the anime lmao #Last pic by xCrescentMagex also on Twitter

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