A Little Peace and Quiet

[Cell]

Gengar swayed from the mast as the ship slid into port. The mercenary hurled a rope to a sailor standing on the pier, who tied it to a pole. He hauled a plank of wood over and dropped one edge over onto the boat with a clap, holding the other edge firmly. The blonde woman sauntered over to the mast, having added a cloak that hid her face, and lowered the cage back to the ship. She opened the cage door with a little kick and Gengar spilled out.
 
A pair of thin, filmy wings popped into existence on Gengar's back and he hovered up to the mercenary's face. His red eyes made a wet, slurping sound as they turned into the compound eyes of an insect. "You know, you can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar."
 
"Honey's much too sweet for my liking," the mercenary said. "Besides, the only thing flies are good for is for swatting."
 
She smacked the ghost Pokemon in the cheek and he dropped to the ground, his insectoid features vanishing.
 
"Ugh, OK, I get it. Not a fan of outside advice," Gengar said, rubbing his face. "So tell me what I'm supposed to do so we can end this relationship of ours."
 
"Go and meet the council, or a representative of theirs," the mercenary said, fishing out the tiny remote control. "Tell them you want to join their filthy little community, and they'll give you a task to prove you want to be one of them. Once you get that task, come back to me and tell me what it is they want you to do. Then I'll work out how you are to proceed from there. That's it."
 
"Somehow I think there'll be more to it than that."
 
The mercenary ran her thumb over the red button and raised her eyebrows.
 
Gengar lifted his hands in a gesture of defeat. "OK, OK, I'm going!"
 
The ghost Pokemon glided over the gangplank and onto the pier. Seagulls squawked and squabbled over a pile of abandoned fish heads. Gengar strafed a few labourers hauling tangled nets, barrels of provisions and fishing rods out to the other docked boats, though no one gave him a second look. Gengar thought about terrorising a few of them, but the mental image of the mercenary and her little red button kept those thoughts at bay for now.
 
He floated past the hustle of the docks and into Cinnabar Island. Dirt roads joined most of the sparse, ramshackle buildings together. The buildings, constructed of sheets of tin, wooden planks and dirtied glass, looked as if they had been glued together from the flotsam and jetsam that washed upon the island's shore. Every now and then Gengar would notice a structure with better materials; stone, brick, better grade of wood, clean and uncracked glass windows. As he floated to what he assumed was the centre of the island, the prevalence of higher quality buildings increased. He wondered if there was some sort of caste system at play here, or if the leadership of the island had managed to procure better materials over time, and the outside ring were the first shelters to be raised.
 
Gengar wended his way through the streets, past an assortment of oddballs. No cohesive theme linked the varied inhabitants of the island, save that some patronising fellow might think they're not of the normal sort. Plenty of Pokemon roamed about, and they were perhaps the largest slice of those he encountered. Humans of all unwieldy shapes and sizes moved about as well, and creatures of unusual appearance, both massive and tiny, helped to bolster the numbers. No one seemed the slightest bit interested in the purple Pokemon gliding through their island, as if his presence was expected, or maybe even commonplace.
 
"What is this place?" Gengar said under his breath.
 
He continued to drift over the island, eventually coming to open air amphitheatre built into the side of a sloping hill. Large sandstone steps embedded into the hill provided a descending set of levels to seat upon, and at its base was a rectangular dais constructed of the same material. Some of the stones were unevenly sized or had chunks missing, but it was otherwise an impressive sight.
 
At the wooden pulpit in the centre of the dais, a lanky figure with pointed ears and long whiskers shuffled papers, their back to Gengar. The tan skin and silhouette reminded Gengar of something, but he couldn't put his finger on it. Either way, he figured this person could tell him how to get to where he was going.
 
He paused, grinning devilishly. Why not scare them? But if they took the fright the wrong way, maybe they wouldn't be inclined to part with their information. Bah, Agatha and her training had changed Gengar's nature irreparably. If he had been left to evolve on his own and never taught strategy, he wouldn't have thought twice about pulling a prank on this stranger. Oh well, what might have been.
 
Gengar saddled up onto the dais, producing a ten-gallon hat, cowboy boots with glistening spurs, and a belt holstered with two revolvers on his body. He walked up slowly, his spurs and guns jingling, ensuring that the stranger would hear his approach.
 
"Excuse me there, partner," Gengar said, his voice drawling. "Don't suppose you might help a poor cowpoke out? I'm a mite lost out here and was hopin' a kind samaritan like yourself might point a fella in the right direction?"
 
The figure spun calmly at Gengar's voice and the ghost Pokemon's cowboy paraphernalia dissolved into thin smoke as his concentration faded.
 
The creature's piercing eyes didn't flinch as it sized up Gengar. It clutched its papers in one hand, and two spoons in the other. A white sash draped over its back and chest, with COUNCIL written in black felt pen. Its long, bushy whiskers twitched, as if it sniffed the air.
 
"A Gengar," the Alakazam said. "Well well well. It's not often that a fully evolved ghost-type Pokemon appears on Cinnabar Island."
 
Gengar blinked his red eyes, his characteristic smile replaced by a gaping circle. "You're ... wait. An Alakazam? A psychic-type Pokemon?" His gaze dived to the sash, then back to Alakazam's eyes. "You're on the council here?"
 
"Bartram is my name. Alakazam is my species," the Alakazam said, a note of disapproval in his tone. "And yes, I am a representative of Cinnabar Island's leadership council. I take it you are new to the island, Mr. ... ?"
 
"Just Gengar is fine," the spectre said. Another talking Pokemon, and in a leadership position as well? A lot of Pokemon simply didn't have the requisite lips and palette shape for speech, and many of those that did rarely spoke the human tongue. It wasn't surprising that of all of them, an Alakazam would be of that number; they were considered one of the most intelligent Pokemon on the face of the planet.
 
"Well thank you," Bartram said. "We are often considered very intelligent, but we aren't always afforded the respect such an accolade should award."
 
Gengar frowned. "You ... oh, you psychic-types. You just read my mind, didn't you?"
 
"That's hardly here nor there. The more pertinent matter is that you go by your species name, rather than by an individual moniker." Bartram said. "What happens when there are two Gengar in the room? How does one refer to a single Gengar without getting the attention of both?"
 
"You know, it's never come up," Gengar said. "But anyway, I was hoping I could speak to the council here."
 
"Well as you can see, we have just finished our latest meeting," Bartram said, pointing the spoons at the empty stone steps. "But if you wish to raise something, I am willing to listen to you now."
 
Time to mix truth with fiction. "I'm new here. I heard about Cinnabar Island and thought I could make this place my home. But I also heard that I need to prove my worth to the council in order to be accepted here."
 
"And you were hoping to be assigned a task by the council," Bartram finished the thought. "The council meeting has adjourned, but I'm sure I can think of something." He hopped off the dais. "Come, walk with me."
 
Gengar floated down and followed the Alakazam by his side.