Fan Fiction / Tenchi Muyo Fan Fiction / Urusei Yatsura Fan Fiction ❯ Poke Walk ❯ Leaving Home and Family ( Chapter 1 )

Poke Walk: Chapter 1 - Leaving Home and Family

Disclaimer:

Pokemon is a copyright of Nintendo. The characters of "Magical Twilight" are the property of Pink Pineapple {Japan} and SoftCel Pictures {USA} from the ideas of Akane Shinshakan and Kinya Watanabe. The characters of Tenchi Muyo are the property of AIC, Hiroki Hayashi, and Yousuke Kuroda. The characters of Urusei Yatsura are the property of Kitty Films - Fuji TV, AnimEigo, and Rumiko Takahashi. The characters of Bubblegum Crisis are the property of Studio AIC (Anime International Company), JVC and AnimEigo.

Some other characters and situations used with permission.

Special Disclaimer:

Pokegirls and Pokewomen come from the Pokewomon Forum at http://disc.server.com/Indices/169881.html.

"Wild Horses and Pokegirls" is the creation of Metroanime.

C&C, MSTs are welcome E-mail: kelvins.choice@att.net

I am just a poor boy though my story's seldom told.

I've squandered my resistance for a pocketful of mumbles, such are promises, all lies and jest.  Still the man hears what he wants to hear, and disregards the rest, hmmmm.

     The Boxer - Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel

When I left my home and my family, I was no more than a boy

     Jeff had found himself on a grassy plain.  There were trees from forests to actual groves scattered around.  Farther away were low hills and even individual mountains in the distance.  He checked himself over, he was wearing his usual tweed suit and fedora.  "Okay, that wasn't what I was wearing when I died," he said, "I also would think they would have buried me in something better."  He pulled the weight off his arm, unslinging the rifle, 'The Gun' as people always called it.  'There ain't much good eating on a Sherman tank, and skinning a Stuart doesn't give a very good rug, even you couldn't flatten it out.' They often teased him, the word order changed, the amount of sarcasm changed.  Considering the things I built this thing to deal with, he reminded himself, Killing and skinning a tank would be simplicity itself.  He looked around, and found he still had his .45 auto and his usual load out of ammunition.  All the spells on them are intact as well.  Okay, is this a good thing or a bad thing? he wondered about still having his standard armament and not his wizard's staff.  Okay, I'm dead, and I'm still armed, he thought, Not good.

     "Well, if this is Hell," Jeff said, "It has been much maligned."  He breathed in deeply.  It lacks the smells of typical cultivated lands, and no coal or diesel/gasoline odors.  So no heavy industrialization, he silently told himself.  Listening carefully, he heard shouts and cries in the distance.  "That I recognize," he said as he reslung The Gun and ran in the direction of that sound.  Cresting a ridge, he looked down on a sight he'd seen often enough.  One very big Leng spider and several dozen much smaller, but still huge, spiders accompanying it.

     He laid down, unfolding the bipod on 'The Gun' and observed through the telescopic sight.  "No," he murmured, "Not spiders at least not exactly."  He saw the long legs and had thought 'spiders'.  "However, the bodies are the bodies of women," he said as he looked more closely, "Eight legs from shoulder to hip.  Interesting."

     Fighting the spiders were dozens of warriors.  Jeff leaned back, he removed the breech block and inserted a single round into it and replaced it.  He returned his attention to the people fighting the spiders.  "Some look like humans, but others are more animal like.  WHOA!" he reacted to one of the spiders emitting a bolt of light that tore through the defenders.  "Okay, energy projectors."

     Something isn't right, a wrongness, like the Great Old Ones, but different, the thought came to him as he concentrated on the main spider, feelings washed over him, tried and failed to overwhelm him, Anger, hunger destroy.  Something blocked his view.  He opened his other eye and saw one of the spiders was standing about 10 meters away, with its mouth open, and a glow within.  Well, that makes my decision, he thought as he snugged the rifle into his shoulder, If you want to just stand there, be my guest, and pulled the trigger.

     I trudge along, lost in memories.  Nothing seems real.

     The battle had been a nightmare, one from which I have not fully awakened.  Do I want to awaken?  So many, so badly hurt, she thinks, My Tamer . . . gone.  I felt him die, in my mind, in my soul.  Someone healed my physical wounds, I heard him say 'I can't help all of them.'  I watched him touch the wounds he could see, the wounds faded, appearing on him, before fading away again.  Yet he'd ignored my Tamer, somehow knowing he - was dead.  Once, a Spinnenangst drew close.  The healer fired at it three times with a pistol, it was impossible, but it died.  Then he continued to the next, and I followed.  There was nothing left for me, did I hope to die?  That the Spinnenangsts or he would kill me?

     Then it was over, the thought goes through my mind, And there was nothing more, nothing for me, so I followed.  I followed as he gathered up the Storm Demon, I followed as he collected the gold pectorals off the dead Spinnenangsts.  I followed as he walked off the battle field, retracing our steps of a few days earlier.  Besides the Matron, no one else followed us, they were too busy mourning their own dead, whom they had all buried.  Or watching in glee, the burning the corpses of the enemy.

     I follow the strange man in the suit and hat, as he carries the Storm Demon at a fast marching pace, back along the trail to the ranch.  Occasionally, I would glance back at the Matron who trails us.  Who looks as lost as I feel, I think.

     "We'll stop here for the night," he spoke.

     The first words since we started walking, I think, glance at the Matron, who looks as weary as I.

     "Why do I get the feeling if I walked to the end of the Earth, you two would follow me?" he asks, trying to lighten the mood.

     "Three regiments went in, they'll be lucky to scrape together a platoon from what's left," the Matron tells him as she settles to sit against a tree near a circle of rocks that had been used as a firepit.  "There's nothing for any of us to go back to."

     "Deserters?" he asks with disdain.

     The Matron laughs.  "You can't desert if you never got a choice in serving."

     "Mamelukes?" he asks, then seeing our incomprehension, "Slave soldiers."

     "Exactly," the Matron says.

     He sets the Storm Demon beside the Matron.  He turns to me.

     So you did notice I was here, I think, staring at him, You worry me.

     "Here, sit with the others," he urges me to sit down.  He removes a sheet of silver paper from his coat and unfolds it into a large blanket.  "It isn't really big enough for all three, but I'll get a fire going."

     "What about you?" the Matron asks.

     "Me, I'll survive.  Sometimes I wish I wouldn't, but I never get that wish," he says as he heads into the darkening forest.

     I sit next to the Matron, extending my wings to cover her.  The Storm Demon can freeze, I think, sending an impotent rage at the crippled thing that he'd carried with us.

     Jeff returned with a load of firewood.  The brush hadn't been cleared in sometime.  I'd hate to be here during the next forest fire, he thought, There's enough fuel to make it a real humdinger.

     The winged blonde and winged brunette were both sound asleep.  The normal looking blonde with the short brown roots was watching him intently from under the brunette's wing.  They probably wonder whether I'm `safe` or not.  I've never taken advantage of a woman that way, and I don't intend to start now, he thought as he arranged the wood and got the fire going.  He carefully sat on the opposite side from the three women.  I may be nuts, but the bottle blonde and the brunette look exactly like Ritsuko and Misato, respectively, he thought, Maybe I am in Hell.   Well, I was damned for being who I am, and I don't think changing at this point will help.

     "I apologize for the lack of food and water, I wasn't expecting to go camping," he tried to make it sound like a joke, the blonde's intense stare unnerved him.  "Okay, I should have been better prepared, but I figured I didn't have to worry about it."

     "What are you doing sitting over there?" the blonde Ritsuko-look-alike asked.

     "I figure the last thing you want is somebody you just met putting his hands all over you while you're trying to get some sleep."  What's so funny about that? he wondered about her smirk.

     "You aren't from around here, are you?" she asked.

     "No, I'm not even sure where 'here' is," he admitted.

     "Sunshine League, Golden Continent, St. Helen's Island," she told him.

     "St. Helen's Island?" he asked, trying to remember, "In Oregon?  Well, that is interesting, back in the United States.  I take it you don't speak Japanese."

     "'United States'?  `Japanese`, why would I speak Japanese?" she asked.

     "Back in '47 I met someone who looked just like you.  A scientist named Ritsuko Akagi, but that was in Japan right after the war."

     "Which war?  I haven't heard about any war," she said worriedly, "This Ritsuko who looks like me, you're saying she's . . . Japanese?"

     "Yes."  He was concerned about her worried look.  "How do you think I feel?  I can remember a whole life, but if your reaction is any guide, I don't think my memories have got much to do with the reality around here."  Better they think I'm confused or brainwashed, he thought, As opposed to thinking I'm nuts.

     "Maybe some psychic Pokègirl got mad at you," she offered, as if that explained everything.

     "Maybe."

      " '47, that was before Mao Shin Mao started her rebellion, you don't look fifty-three years old."

     "It isn't the years.  It's the mileage," Jeff commented, "By that measure I'm about a hundred and eighty-three.  Mao Shin Mao, that sounds Chinese, was she working for Mao Zedong or against him?"

     "Who?"

    &n bsp;"Mao Zedong, Communist insurgent and Great Leader of China, he defeated the Nationalists in 1949."

     "NINETEEN forty-nine?" she gasped, causing the two-winged women to shift, "You may be a bit further away that you think.  The year is around 2300 by the old calendar."

     "'Old calendar'?  Well that explains things perfectly," he said, trying to keep the sarcasm out of his voice, "That makes me about three hundred and seventy. I wonder if I can still cash in those War Bonds."

     She frowned at him.

     "Let's just say whoever assembled my memories had a superb attention to detail, and a rather screwy sense of humor.  I can remember every detail of my time at Harvard University during World War Two."

     "World War - Two?  I've never Sukebe's Revenge called that, but it fits," she told him.

     "When did that happen?  World War Two was 1937 to 1945, roughly.  Then there was the war against Nyarlathotep and his allies, agents and dupes, that started in 1947, and we had just killed him," he told her.

     "I don't know what you did to piss off whoever did this to you," she said, "But that's all gibberish.  The last major war before Sukebe's Revenge ended in about 1920, old calendar, Sukebe's Revenge occurred around the turn of the century by the old calendar.  The new calendar began after the defeat of Sukebe, and that was exactly 300 years ago.  Maybe you tangled with a Dark Lady or a Hild, they're the only ones who'd be able to do something that complete."

     "Well, if that's the case, I'll keep the change.  I kind of like who I think I am," he said offhandedly, "I really don't want to return to being the insufferable bastard who'd make someone do this to another person."

     "Dark Ladies and Hilds don't need an excuse, they are just that mean," the woman explained

     "Ma'am -"  What did I do wrong this time? he wondered at her stunned reaction to being called 'ma'am'.  "What, is 'ma'am' a curse word I've forgotten."

     "No, it's just . . . no one has ever called me 'ma'am' before, I like it," she hastily explained, "And I don't mind if you continue to do so."

     "Thank you ma'am," he said, standing and giving her a sweeping bow from a Shakespeare play, "I shall strive always to be gallant, nothing less is expected of a Harvard Man after all."

     She laughed at that.  Which made him feel better as he sat down.  Manners must really have deteriorated in 300 years, he thought, Well, I can remember always being `ex-centric`.  I wonder what they'd think of me now?  He glanced at the Misato-look alike who was now wide awake and staring.  He suppressed a shudder.  She isn't Misato, he reminded himself, You don't have to worry about her getting drunk and . . . doing thinks, then getting violent when you or the others refuse.  She's long dead, you're safe.  He didn't quite believe it.

     "You have got to be the oddest Tamer I've ever encountered," she said, between giggles, "I know the Edo league has some strange customs, but acting that way to Pokègirls is more than a little Bunnygirl."

     Jeff tried not to get into a stare-down with `Misato` when he answered, "Please don't take this amiss, but I have no idea what you just said.  The verbs and adjectives were all fine, I know what 'customs' are, but beyond that, I'm totally lost."

     Both women stared at him as if he had a brass band growing out of his head.  "You don't know what Taming or Pokègirls are?" the Ritsuko look-alike asked, utterly mystified.

     "No, are they important?" he asked then smacked his forehead, "Of course they are, or you wouldn't have brought them up.  I do apologize."

     Even `Misato` smiled at that, `Ritsuko` giggled again, before answering, "Pokègirls are - were originally - bio-engineered weapons, sentient and humanoid.  Taming is - the method control.  Pokègirls require social interaction.  Pokègirls are pack animals, they . . . we don't feel safe unless we're with a group."

     Jeff couldn't decipher the odd looks `Misato` was giving `Ritsuko`.  Okay, she's leaving something out, or she's using an obscure dialect, he thought, In three hundred years, the language should have changed tremendously.  Maybe she's speaking `Ye Olde English`.  I'll have to get a better explanation later.

     "Is that why . . . I apologize again, I haven't inquired about your names.  If you wouldn't mind telling me, what are you called?"

     "Pick a name, for both of us.  I frankly never liked what I was called," `Ritsuko` told him.

     "Very well, you are the spitting image of a woman I cared for names Ritsuko Akagi, your colleague looks like Misato Katsuragi, although Misato never had wings."

     "Very well, I am Ritsuko, please to meet you, m - sir," Ritsuko said and bowed slightly.

     I could swear she was starting to call me 'master', he thought, I am going to have to learn the `English` they use around here or I'll be in deep trouble.  I'll have to pick up a translator and local guide.  Well, at least the gold I picked up will be valuable.

     "You three look exhausted, I'll take the first watch.  Do you know how to handle a fire arm?"

     "No, Pokègirls aren't generally allowed weapons," Ritsuko told him, `Misato` nodded.

     "Well, if something shows up, on your watch, wake me," he told them.

     "Aren't you going to be cold?" Ritsuko asked.

     "I doubt it," Jeff told her.  And I am not going to tell you why, he thought, How much of what I was followed me here?  I thought it was over, I guess it isn't.

     'You really should stay with the others.  I'm lost here,' he'd told her.  Mara remembered.  Her reaction was to extend then furl her wings, jet black, not like a bird's or a bat's, something different. Jeff shrugged, then he spotted the other two, and his heart froze.  One was the spitting image of Ritsuko, right down to the mole, blue top and black skirt.  The second looked so much like Misato it was frightening, the only real difference, and it was a big one, was the two, immense, black-feathered wings that grew out of her back.

     "Uh, I don't think following us is a good idea," he told them, not knowing what else to say.  It can't be them! he thought, I'm hallucinating all this.  This is the last gasp of my brain as it shuts down.  Some last scraps of insanity as I die, all stretched out into hours.  "Look, I don't know what's going on here, the customs, the language, where this is exactly."

     "We understand you," Ritsuko said, smiled.

     Well, the teeth aren't normal, he thought, More like a carnivore's.  He glanced at `Misato` and got an equally blank stare back.  He shook his head and continued on the trail, he'd heard animals along the trail, but he didn't want to risk it was one of the animorphs that seemed to be all over the place.  I'd rather not eat something smart enough to talk, unless I have to, he thought, Or unless it attacks me first.  I wonder if those spiders would have been edible.

     Jeff woke suddenly, he remembered the dream, a distorted version of what had happened along the trail over the last several days.

     "You certainly are a light sleeper," Ritsuko said as she backed away with her hands in the air, staring at the .45 auto in his hands.

     Jeff wasn't pointing his pistol at her, nor either of the others.  He did see all of them looking extremely alarmed, as if he would attack them.  He reholstered the pistol behind his back.

     The peaceful compound in the valley seemed out of place.  No outer wall or defenses of any kind, he thought as he looked, And this early I guess I shouldn't expect much activity.  The shriek of outrage from the compound below cut off his further thoughts.

     "I think we've found civilization," he told his three companions.  He glanced at them, from Mara in his arms he got a smirk so much like the redeemed demoness it was as if she had returned.  `Ritsuko` gave him a warm smile. The kind she'd been too insecure to give too often.  Although you gave it to `your kids` as often as you could, he thought I wonder if you understood how important and happy we felt when we could raise the curtain on your darkness and let the light in.  You felt the light and warmth, and you smiled like that.  `Misato` flared her wings and blankly stared at him.  Creepy, he thought, but it hadn't changed during the march, It's like she's not really there.  Should I be pleased, concerned, or terrified?

     They marched down the path to what presumably was the front door.  The sign over the door suggested tradesmen go to the rear entrance.  Well, I might as well be a tradesman, he thought as he headed towards the rear entrance, none of the three commented, I just hope that gold I reworked is worth something.

     He made himself presentable, he did suspect that he was amusing his companions.  A knock on the door received a rapid response.  The woman who opened the door had some dog-like properties, especially the ears and tail.  The woman stared at him, then at the three women.

     "Please come in," she said.  Jeff held the door for the three of them, that got him a very strange look from their host.  "Do you require assistance?" she asked.

     "I believe the ladies understand better than I do," Jeff admitted, "I would appreciate any help you can give them."  She nodded and led them way after summoning another much younger dog-girl to take him to the sitting room.  Jeff `accidentally` dropped a pen and kicked it a short distance down the hall.

     So you do have psychological similarities in addition to the physical appearance, he thought as the girl barely controlled the reflex to chase the object.  He recovered his pen quickly, but the situation only created more questions.  The girl left him in the study, and rushed off.  Jeff looked at the shelves.  Books, mostly on `Pokègirls`.  Physiology, psychology, taming, Breeding Techniques?  Are they some kind of domesticated animal? he wondered.  The entry of a middle-aged man prevented any further examination/investigation.

     "I welcome you to my home and ranch," the man, apparently human, said as he sat down behind his desk.  He made no attempt to shake Jeff's hand, bow or make any other greeting.

     "I apologize for troubling you so early in the morning," Jeff told him.

     "We were wide awake," the older man told him sourly.

     I feel like I'm being sized up like a prize steer, he thought, but kept his expression neutral.  "I am in need of a guide, I am not familiar with the local customs."  That got a reaction? he thought as the older man brightened, He's got one, or more, or he's hoping to get rid of the screamer, he thought.  Then a girl walked in, between the ages of the other two, and her canine features were more pronounced than the other two, including fur, ears, muzzle and a tail.  Spaniel, he thought, Lot more generous figure as well.  He paused in his thoughts, Dazzling smile too.  I think I know somebody who wants the job, or she's sizing me up to eat me.

     "There is the question of price," the man said.

     I'm glad I took those pectorals, Jeff thought, he'd smashed them into a uniform mass, then cut them into fifty approximately equal pieces.  He removed two of them from his suit coat pocket and placed them in front of the man.  "I'll need knowledge of many of the local languages, geography, customs, some of the local legends and folklore as well.  As well as equipment for travelers, I lost most of my baggage."  I lay on each condition and none of them blink, he thought as the man stared intently at the gold colds, Maybe if I asked to have sex with his daughters, that would get a rise out of him.  So what exactly is that gold worth, or are prices that low?  I get the feeling leaving that gold and running away might be the wiser action.

     Jena, a Growlie, tossed her blonde hair and walked the Malakim and the G-Spliced angel-looking girl she'd seen when the force came through before, and the Matron she hadn't, through the ranch buildings to the healing center.  "You took a big risk coming through the forest.  There are rumors the arachnid and her Spinnenangsts, supposedly they're all like Widows, but worse, are out there.  There was a bunch of military who went through a few days ago on their trail."

     "They're dead," the G-Spliced told the young Growlie.

     "So the military took care of them?" the Growlie asked.

     "Did I say who 'they' were?" G-Spliced asked, "The military are the ones who got taken care of.  We were part of that group, and there weren't exactly a lot of us left."

     "Then, the . . . the Spinnenangst and their master . . . are on their way here?" the Growlie asked, frozen in fear.

     "No," the Matron told her, spoiling the G-Spliced's fun, "They both wiped each other out.  I think the Malakim and the Storm Demon both need a full healing cycle."

     "Why don't you throw in a grooming cycle for the Matron while you're at it," G-Spliced shot back.  The Malakim watched both of them intently.

     "Make it a healing cycle, a grooming cycle, and a level two taming cycle," the Matron said harshly, aiming a Pokèball at the G-Spliced, reducing her to red light.  The Malakim merely nodded.

     Harsh but necessary, Jena thought.  "Your Tamer . . . ?" Jena asked.

     "My Tamer is dead," the Malakim said, her eyes suddenly wild, her entire body started to glow, "That thing killed him.  MY - " her tirade and possible violence was cut short by the Matron using her Pokèball on her.  The Matron handed the two Pokèballs to Jena.

     "I thought they needed an Angel Stone to evolve," Jena said worriedly.

     "Evidently not," the Matron told her, "The man who brought us in wasn't a Tamer, he was just seeing us safely here."

     Jena noticed the flush from the Matron, Jena thought the idea of a man, a human, `escorting` two such powerful Pokègirls and a Matron was romantic.  Shame he isn't a Tamer, she thought, I wonder why not.

     "Just where is here?" the Matron asked, "You must have told me, I guess I'm need the work over too."

     "I'm Jena, this is the Masaki Pokèranch.  I thought when they brought that group through, I saw the Storm, Fire, and the other demons.  They are supposed to be uncontrollable."

     "I don't know," the Matron admitted as she vanished into her own Pokèball.

     Inside the ball was a peaceful timelessness.  Ritsuko felt the soothing energies of a healing cycle wash over her.  How did he manage to control her?  That Growlie was right, those experimental demon types had to be restrained to be Tamed to prevent going Feral or slaughtering their Tamers, but she's walking around like a normal Pokègirl.  He couldn't have bonded with her, he never Tamed her.  He just healed her injuries, Ritsuko considered, But . . . is that even possible, a bond from healing?  A one-way Delta bond?  There shouldn't be even a chance . . .   She let herself drift off into a dreamless sleep, letting her mind work over the problem.

In The Company of Strangers

     The normal-looking girl in the shorts and shirt continued to look at him like a hound with a delicious steak, and was only awaiting permission to eat.  Jeff ignored the looks, as well as her companion's odd hair color.  The teal made her look like someone he'd met who was part of a posse chasing a little girl.  Outsmarting her and that girl's outre-tressed companions had been child's play.  The green-brown silk boxers and half-shirt, in their brevity, tightness and the thinness of the material, barely managed to maintain decency.  A bikini made from a thick coat of paint would have been more concealing.

     "I have many girls who could satisfy your goals," Katsuhito Masaki's accent made following him a little difficult, Jeff guessed his own archaic phrasings probably gave the others a similar problem.

     "Considering what I'm offering, I could trust you to give your best efforts.  Or are you saying I shouldn't trust you and I should go elsewhere?"  

     "No," the normal-looking girl said.

     Aside from her human appearance, I'd say she's a wolf, not a hound, he thought.

     "I'd be glad to handle the selection and complete outfitting of your team, to cover your needs, it will require several people."  She smiled, a good deal more friendly, she extended a hand.  Jeff gave her another gold coin, the teal-haired one nearly went through the roof at that exchange.  "Please remember that I too need replacement for the luggage I lost."

     "This should take care of everything," she said, holding up the gold coin.

     The gasp from her companion worried him even more.  What is her problem? he wondered, She's as antsy as the other one I met.  Learn to cook on your own, it will ease your heartache.

     "This is Kiyone," Mr. Masaki said of the teal-haired one.

     Definitely weird, Jeff thought, Just like the other.

     "This is Liv," Mr. Masaki, "May I speak with both of them a moment, in private?"

     Jeff nodded and stepped outside the room to wait.  He felt someone throw up an anti-eavesdropping spell.  He caught the gist of the argument by lipreading: Kiyone couldn't believe Liv was cheating him this way.  Hmm, one of those coins is a half-year's wages for a laborer, that's good to know, he thought while keeping up a pleasant though inane `conversation` about swordsmanship foremost in his mind, to prevent anyone from reading his mind in return.  The pointy end goes in the other man, he thought.  Another woman approached and stared at him.  She was human appearing, except for the uniquely-colored hair appearing to be a solid piece, the Japanese kimono while everyone else was in Western-style dress, and the icy stare.  I've seen friendlier gazes on people who were actively trying to kill me, he thought, before speaking, "I have a knife you could borrow, since you want to stab me.  Although I'd recommend a large charge of high explosives instead.  Then burn the remains and scatter them over several continents, or fire them into the sun."  He tipped his hat to her.

     She immediately turned and left.

     Good riddance, to you too my dear, he thought as he waited.  Before he could attract any more attention, Kiyone burst out of the room.  The look of pity she gave him troubled him.  "I do apologize.  I didn't realize this was just a business and hospital, not an inn.  If you would direct me to a nearby inn.  I'd like to get cleaned up and get some rest."  He sniffed his coat.  "Perhaps I'd be less offensive then."

     Mr. Masaki who had charged out as soon as Kiyone stopped, looked embarrassed by Jeff's comments.  "Kiyone," he said, "Please take the gentleman to one of the guest rooms upstairs and then show him the men's bathroom."

     "I don't wish to trouble you," Jeff said.

     "For what you paid, you could have a room here for the next year," Mr. Masaki said.

     "Yes, Grandfather," Kiyone said and took Jeff's hand to lead him away, she was a good deal stronger than an ordinary girl.

     Jeff was still trying to place her age, late teens to early twenties was the most he could narrow it down.  As they walked, he spotted another girl, with a muzzle like an English Bulldog's, and extremely top heavy, to the point of 'how does she stand up without back trouble?'  Long, black hair and tail, ears folded down.  She stared out the window, her ears and tail limp. Her black fur - No, the `fur` is also a black T-shirt and a very brief miniskirt, he thought, And they're practically painted on.  Someone that well endowed would need support.  Other than that, I'd think Labrador or Newfoundland.  Her clothes are silk too.  What's the answer?  If gold is rare and valuable, how does everyone wear silk around here?

     "Do you raise silk here?" he asked.  Could be from those giant spiders for all I know, he thought.

     "Yes.  It's mostly for our own use," Kiyone replied, "It's spider silk."

     She said that as if I should react to it, he thought.  "Must be large spiders," he said, "I ran into some really big spiders in Leng.  However, their silk wasn't usable."

     She chuckled as she ran her fingers through her long hair.  "Making proper silk is an art.  So, after that, are you afraid of spiders?"

     "Not unless they're trying to eat me," he replied, "I knew one, large, and intelligent.  I'd give him a couple of cows to eat, and made sure he knew I had an incendiary handy, and we could have a very civilized chat."  The Leng Spiders, I'd burn in their webs, he thought.

     She laughed.  "So you don't have as big a problem as some people."

     Real arachnophile here, he thought, I guess it gets boring around here.  "They're like any other predator," Jeff said, noted that as they started up the narrow stairs, the sway of her hips had increased, almost like she was dancing, one of those dances the vice cops raided periodically.  "I wouldn't want a wild animal suddenly dropping on me in the shower, and I don't like that they don't eat ants, but otherwise as long as they are not a direct threat to me, I leave them alone.  I also appreciate the geometry of their webs."

     "Hmm," she said, combing her fingers through her long hair again.

     You certainly don't look like a spider, he thought as the realization struck him, And you're obviously quite sensitive about it.  They continued to a small room, just large enough for a cot and a small desk.

     The bedding and the mattress cover were silk, so were the curtains and what he thought was a painting was actually a weaving.  "Silk sheets as well.  Your work?" he smiled as he asked, she blushed.

     "Yes, but - " she stammered, "Not mine alone."

     "Teal, or do you have other dyes and decolorizers?" he asked, "I studied Chemical Engineering.  Basically that's figuring out how to go from making a gram in a retort, to making tons of it in a factory."

     "No, we change our hair color as we wish.  Nevertheless, you've got good ideas," she said as she stepped closer, resting her hip against his and smiling all the while, "Maybe we should keep you around."

     He stepped back.  I'd almost be relieved if I thought she was going to eat me, he thought, then realized something else, Other than Mr. Masaki I've not seen, heard or smelled any trace of another man in the vicinity.  And I was just thinking she was bored, I don't even want to consider what my host would do if he caught me in bed with one of his . . . granddaughters?

     She seemed a little disappointed by his retreat, but covered it.  "I'll show you the bath, and get you some clean clothes.  With what you paid, I should get you a couple dozen suits."  She grimaced at that.

     "I obviously miscalculated the exchange rate," he said, "Would you mind addressing my ignorance?"

     "The two you gave grandfather, plus the one you paid Liv, four more and you could buy this entire ranch, maybe the whole side of the island, including all the stock and everything else.  As long as you left Grandfather in charge, you could probably make the offer and get a 'yes.'  And it would certainly raise your stock around here."

     "Well, I don't want a ranch, I grew up on a ranch, it was a huge amount of work.  Fencing, cleaning, cooking, dealing with the occasional predator, human and otherwise.  I'm just looking around."

     She nodded.

     "Before we go."

     "Yes?" she asked, grinning broadly.

     Jeff had a vague idea what that was about, he decided to avoid thinking about it and just forge ahead.  "The girl by the window - " he began.  What?  Oh, you think I'm interested in her, he thought at her swiftly-hidden frown, You can't be jealous, you only just met me, I could turn out to be a real louse.  "What's wrong with her?"

     Kiyone deflated slightly, moving interestingly under her clothes.  "Tifa has been mooning after this soldier, just a member of the local militia.  He's been saving up so they could be together."

     "'Saving up?" Jeff asked.  I don't like the sound of that, he thought.

     "Grandfather has to approve, he also wants to give her a collar, and good ones aren't cheap."

     "You make it sound like he has to buy her affections," he said.  Or is it a dowry?  Bride price paid to the family?  Things have changed in 300 years, he thought.  "And you look forward to someone `buying` you?" he asked, trying to keep his voice neutral.

     She smiled wistfully.  "I'm afraid that's more than I can hope for.  I'm not as young or as cute as the others," she said, "I enjoy working with my sisters, making all this, occasionally selling our best items.  But a Tamer's journey?  No."  She shook her head.  "I've given up on that."

     She sounds so disappointed about that, he thought, I thought Taming meant . . . I'm not sure what it meant, but she makes it sound like you go out and tame the world or the wilderness.  I know I'm missing something obvious, but what?

     "So you'll settle for remaining with your family?" he asked as neutrally as he could, while he searched his memory for where he'd heard the name 'Tifa' before.  It can't be that game she used to play, that was just a dream, wasn't it?

     "Yes, but when I was younger, I hoped for other things as well," she said sadly.

     "Tifa lost her soldier love to Aeris, right?" he asked.

     Kiyone was startled.  "Yes, you saw them?" she asked hopefully.

     "No."  He shook his head.  "Pink hair in two braids?  The boy has a hair style like a morningstar - a spiked mace?"

     Kiyone chuckled.  "Yes, that's them," she said, then stared at him, "Did you see them?"

     "No, neither were among the survivors.  Either they got away before the battle . . . or they died.  I know they weren't among the wounded I treated, the dead I buried or the survivors I saw."

     "They caught one of Brusellia's Spinnenangsts?" Kiyone asked, suddenly all business.

     "So that's what they're called.  No, the battle was against Brusellia and thirty of her bodyguard.  They were wiped out, but it cost the defenders heavy casualties."

     "Brusellia, you - saw - her - ?" Kiyone asked in a small voice, drawing away, "And you killed one of them?"

     I doubt, 'They were unprepared for an opponent with my firepower' is the appropriate answer, he thought.  "I never said I killed one of them, I did help kill a couple," he admitted, shrugged, "If they insisted on trying to eat me - "

     The cry of 'Hooray' and the rear tackle ended his train of thought.  Kiyone had her arms around his chest and her legs around his hips, laughing happily.

     She seems overjoyed, he thought as he staggered under the sudden assault.  "Don't constrain yourself, tell me what you really think."  The immediately regretted his tendency to make quips.

     She slid to the ground, grabbed his head and kissed him so deeply that he considered asking her to look at his tonsils since she was in the neighborhood.  Not a good idea, he thought as he decided to let her finish and he'd concentrate on breathing and standing upright.  She broke the kiss, looking deeply into his eyes.  She was panting from her exertions, the way her body moved against him made it hard to focus.  She dove back in for another go.

     What is going on? he considered her almost frenzied happiness, and how much it frightened him.  She'd left his arms free, and he'd had to brace himself against the wall to keep from falling.  She's a lot stronger than I thought initially, he thought.  Rather than responding, he kept wondering what he was being set up for.

     She broke off the second lip lock and released him, sliding against him, laying her head on his shoulder.  "Sorry about that."

     That's a lie, he thought, I think the only part you're sorry about is that I didn't react.  "A little warning wouldn't be amiss, I could have shot you, that's what usually happens when I get jumped," he said, taking advantage of the lull to breathe properly again.

     "No more bad dreams," she explained as if she hadn't heard, "I . . . I kept eating my family and going out to join her.  And I wasn't the only one."  She stared at him with a terrifying intensity.  "I love my family, but that - that - that . . . "

     He took her in his arms for a more gentle hug.  "Easy, it's over.  Brusellia and her whole brood are gone.  I know that much, I saw it, walked the battlefield in the aftermath."

     She buried her face in his chest, nuzzling it.

     "Believe me, the enemy didn't retreat, and we held the field."  They stood that way for a while, he felt her quiet sobs and her tears soaking into his shirt.  He hoped his impression that she was happy was correct, he'd caused enough pain in his previous life, he wanted that part over with.  He still couldn't bring himself to be comfortable with almost anyone getting this close to him.  I've got to quit expecting a knife in the gut, he chided himself, Maybe it will be different here . . . yeah, right.

     She broke off the hug and stepped away from him, keeping hold of his hand.  "I'll show you where the bathroom is," she said as she tugged him forward.

     "Don't you remember what I said about spiders trying to eat me in the shower?"

     She smirked at that.  All kinds of alarms were going off in his head about being alone in a bath with a pretty girl, especially one in her current emotional state.  And especially with a protective grandfather downstairs.  Shotgun or no shotgun, he thought.

     "These dreams, you're sure that Brusellia was sending them?" he asked neutrally, letting her lead him forward.  She kept stroking his fingers suggestively, suggestive of just one activity that came to mind.  Get your head out of the gutter! he told himself, You're making unwarranted assumptions, she could just be happy that somebody somehow has ended her nightmares.  And Santa Claus, and the Easter Bunny, and the Honest Politician . . .

     "Can you imagine - ea - eat - eating your sisters, your friends, your family?" she asked, utterly horrified by the prospect, "And - I - enjoyed it.  Their screams of outrage, their fear was so sweet I - " she shook her herself.  "I never wanted that, I never wanted to hurt anybody that way.  All there was - was killing, feeding, mating, sometimes all at once," she chuckled mirthlessly, "I may lament my boring life here, the dreams I couldn't get because I was part spider . . but I never wanted to go that route."

     "It's over.  Brusellia and her bodyguard are gone.  No more dreams," he told her with all the authority he could muster, he wasn't informing her, he was ordering.

     "Yes," she said quietly, "Thank you."  She led him down the stairs by the hand.  The `Newfoundland` Tifa was still staring out the window as they passed and headed to the bathroom.  They stepped into a Japanese style bathroom with a tiled wash area and a furo to soak in.

     Kiyone glanced around nervously.  "Ah, the - "

     "I'm familiar with Japanese customs, the tub is after the wash," he explained as he touched the furo's water.  It would take a bit to get used to, hot but not scalding, I think I'll skip it.  A cold shower is what I really need.

     "Would you like someone to scrub your back?" she asked innocently.

     "Thank you, n - " he stared, there was no doubt she was female, and from the angle he saw, completely human.  She was also clearly no teenager.  Maybe early 20's, and teal is her natural hair color, he thought, watching her closely as she set her boxers and half-shirt aside.  "Uh, erm," he said intelligently, making her smile as she walked sensuously towards him in a hip-swaying dance that made it extraordinarily clear what she had in mind.

     Okay smart guy, get out of this without offending her, he thought, when all his instincts wanted was to give in and let her do as she willed.  Yet his experience was that it was a set up, either she was distracting him or she wanted something, in any case, he'd be vulnerable in an alien place, with no help available. "I - app - appreciate the - offer - and the im - implied offer," he said.  She stepped up against him, smiling at him as she wrapped her arms around his waist, she blushed at that.  "But I didn't escape the battle unscathed, and I can guarantee, once I remove my shirt, it will ruin your mood.  I also doubt I could properly take advantage of your offer."

     "Oh," she blushed, stepped away, "I'm sorry.  I didn't know.  Do you need bandages or - anything?"

     "I didn't tell you, and I'm a good actor," he replied, and was relieved when she stepped back into her boxers.

     "I can send a medic," she offered.

     "I'm a skilled healer, there were others who needed my skills more.  I would just like some time to rest."  I almost said 'relax', and I can imagine how that would be interpreted, he thought.

     "I'll see to it you aren't disturbed," she offered, smiled as she turned, her half-shirt unbuttoned, "Thank you for not just saying 'no'."

     "If I had said 'yes' and hadn't warned you . . . well, having you run screaming from the room would have complicated things tremendously."

     She chuckled.

     "You dance?" Jeff asked, playing a hunch.

     "Yes, very well in fact.  A little - frenzied - for some tastes though."

     "Ah, the tarantella, I'd like to see it sometime," he said.

     She smiled broadly and left.

     Not the seductive smile from before, he thought, Tarantula, are you the Italian variety who chases down prey and fills her home with silk, the North American burrowing hunter, or the South American web-spinner who eats birds? he asked silently.  Watching the sway of her hips and the way the boxers clung to her as she left.  I must remember if they eat their mates as well, he thought.

     Kiyone buttoned her shirt and headed into the closet next to the bathroom, and the peephole one of Master Tenchi's harem had drilled into the wall.  She leaned down to it and looked through.  Show me what you think is so terrible, she thought as he removed his coat and tie, and then unbuttoned his shirt at the collar and the cuffs.  She'd felt his body when she'd hugged him, she had some definite ideas.  And a few ideas about what to do with it, she wondered if he'd be interested in an `industrial` Pokègirl, he already had a Malakim, some demon-type and a Matron, That means he's missing three, or more, if he was in that battle maybe that's all he's got left.  It would explain why he's so excitable, and not in a good way.  If he lost a Bonded Pokègirl, her might not be ready for more girls.  That's got to be a kick in the head, arrive in the Sunshine League from the Edo League, and get your harem cut to pieces right off the boat.

     He paced the room while he unbuttoned the front of his shirt.

     Okay, undershirt, I can wait, she thought.  Then he hung his shirt up, right in front of the peephole.

     Damn, she thought, How did he know?  Tenchi never found it, and he looked, really carefully.  Well, I have business with Liv.

     She found the girl downstairs in Grandfather's study, with father and grandfather looking on.

     "I have some information for you, little sister, some's free, the rest has a price.  What's free is that he likes spiders, within reasonable limits.  The second, he's a mage, or at least a healer, and a strong one.  So if you need a reason to leave Irene and Chipple here, you have one.  The third is that he's spent time in the Edo League, he knows Japanese bathing customs at least."

     "Okay," Liv said, "What's the price?"

     "She wants to be one of the eight you choose," Oyuki said as she stood at the doorway carrying an old book.

     "Eight?  I was leaning for six," Liv replied.

     "Perhaps five," Oyuki entered, leading the blonde newcomer, a Matron.

     "The three of us are going along.  What do you mean about eight?" the newcomer asked, "A Tamer starts with six, a watcher has at most four."

     "A Field Researcher has up to four subjects, and four additional Pokègirls as a security force," Oyuki said, reading from the book, "The law is over 175 years old, although not widely used."

     "Why do I get the idea that if I called up the original text of this `ancient` law, the ink would still be wet?" the Matron asked, "You're a Megami, aren't you?"

     "I had nothing to do with this," Oyuki said.

     "Can't answer a straight question, yep, you're a Megami," the Matron said, shrugged, "Anyway, the three of us are going along.  So if he's this 'Field Researcher' that leaves five spots."  She glanced around, "Or is that two spots?"

     "That does simplify things," Liv said sourly, "Thinking he's a Researcher rather than a Tamer requires a different force.  So, Oyuki are you going along?" Liv asked.

     Kiyone noted the Megami's well-hidden sour look.  Almost like when someone asks her if she's an Ice Princess, Kiyone thought.  "I think that's a yes.  Let's see, a Megami, a Witch, a Malakim, what's the third one of you?"

     "She's one of the Army's Element Demons, a Storm Demon," the Matron told her, "And the Malakim might have evolved, probably into a Seraph.  You know how those feel about demon types.  And my name is Ritsuko."

     Kiyone felt a cold chill go through her.  "We have to get her out of here."

     "That's easy, get rid of him, she'll follow quietly, although you'd better be polite about it," Ritsuko told them, laughed, "Or she might take offense, even if he doesn't."

     "That's the other part, he'll do most of the fighting," Kiyone told them, "The Spinnenangsts and Brusellia that you've been hearing about, they're gone.  He participated in the battle, personally."

     "He didn't participate in the battle," the Matron told them coldly, "He was the battle.  Brusellia and the others had us on the run, no plan held together, the harems were supposed to cooperate with each other, some of the harems themselves fell apart.  We went from a well-organized military force to a terrified, befuddled gaggle, and the Spinnenangsts just ran around picking us off.  He sat up on a hill with that cannon he was wearing, knocking down Spinnenangsts as fast as he could reload.  One Spinnenangsts walked right up to him and tried to get off a hyperbeam.  He killed it before it could fire.  There's something not right about someone who can coldly watch a Widow trying to hyperbeam him, and he just dispatches it.  Still, whatever was terrifying the rest of us, it didn't even touch him.  Later he started healing people, I never heard of a healer who would absorb the injury, and heal themselves of it."

     "He healed you too," Oyuki said.

     "No, I was with the support echelon, that didn't keep them from slaughtering us.  I hid in the undercarriage of a truck.  I didn't want to die any more than anybody else, but a Matron is no match for a Widow, and those Spinnenangsts were worse than any Widow.  But he did heal that Storm Demon, whether that had some effect, I don't know."

     "So your Master doesn't need combat support.  With a Storm Demon and an evolved Malakim as part of his harem, he'd hardly need combat support anyway.  So what does he want to do, enter the Fighting Leagues, the Sex Leagues?" Liv asked.

     "A Field Researcher does not participate in Gym Battles or League Tournaments, they are intelligence gatherers, about Pokègirls and their environment.  They are even exempt from the Salvage Laws.  Any Pokègirls captured beyond the eight, are turned over to the League," Oyuki told them.

     "I can see why no one uses that any more," Ritsuko said, "Not a real problem, any Pokègirl that just jumped out of the dark at his harem, he'd blast her.  I get the idea he could careless about Pokègirl battles."

     Kiyone and Liv exchanged stunned looks.  It does jibe with what I wanted to tell her, Kiyone thought.  "The other thing is, I don't think he's trained as a Tamer.  He seemed pretty shook up when I offered to scrub his back."

     "Maybe he is an arachnophobe," Oyuki offered.

     Kiyone scowled at her.  "No!" she growled low.

     "You took off your clothes I bet," Liv teased, "Just cause you're all grown up . . . " She stuck her tongue out.

     You'd catch more flies, if you didn't seem so likely to eat them, little Witch, Kiyone thought.  "I had my reasons, but I think you'd better pick people who really do know their way around and aren't embarrassed about explaining things.  I really think he doesn't know."

     "Maybe he should team up with my son, he isn't shy about those things," Noboyuki commented proudly.

     "Father," Kiyone and Liv chorused respectfully as Noboyuki arrived.

     "I'm rid of Mihoshi, and she's happy," Kiyone countered, "That's good enough for me.  She's scared off every Tamer even remotely interested in me, and chased after Tenchi in her usually bumbling way.  So I finally have my chance at happiness, and she's not here to mess it up."

     Everyone stepped away from the pillar of black flame that surrounded the Tarantella.

     "I never saw what the others saw in Tenchi, he's nice, but not worth killing each other over," Kiyone said as the flames died down and vanished.

     "O - kay," Liv said, "And just so you know, I just earned part of my pay.  I've got him registered as a Tamer and a Field Researcher, which means he is entitled to upto eight Pokègirls, as long as he can pass the registration test and submit reports on his Thesis's progress, all I have to do is have his `thesis` filed with a notable researcher."

     "Not Washu," Kiyone warned, "Grandfather Katsuhito might be willing to do it, he used to study Pokègirl psychology.  With a Witch, a Megami, a Seraph and a Storm Demon, that should provide an interesting report, how he kept them from killing each other."

     "Add 'Taming and Bonding an Elemental Demon and The Long-Term Effects On Tractability'," Ritsuko added, "I used to have to separate all the research that came in and direct it to the specialists who needed it.  I read most of it in my free time."

     "And I wondered how you wound up a Matron at such an early age," Liv muttered.

     "No - deary," Ritsuko said, "Why don't you enlighten us."

     "Excuse me!" called a male voice interrupted, "I don't want to be a nudge, but there was a mention of clean clothes for sleeping in."  Jeff stood in the doorway, completely covered by several towels, staring at the entire tableau.  "Do you really want to kill each other indoors?  Outdoors the blood helps the flowers."

     "Oops," Kiyone said, "Have to go."

In The Quiet Of The Railway Station, Runnin' Scared

     Jeff woke slowly, he felt the two bodies pressing in on him and the wing draped over the three of them.  It bothered him that this behavior hadn't ceased when they were finally sleeping indoors.  At least it's not the winged Misato, he thought, That is one identity it's been extremely difficult to reconcile.

     He noted the strength of the dual grips and the sunlight streaming in the room.  First time I've slept that long.  I just laid down for a short nap, yesterday, I slept through the entire morning and into the next morning, he thought, Unless I slept through the next day entirely.

     He'd already learned that trying to ease his way out would have `Ritsuko`, `Misato` or `Mara` drag him back, without the girls ever waking up.  He simply stood and walked away, eliciting sleepy complaints from the pair that their cuddle toy was gone.  In the wild, it also induced all three of the girls to return to consciousness, it worked again on those two.  "Where's the other winged one?"  Misato, he felt a bit ashamed he'd never learned her real name, and he wasn't comfortable still calling her 'Misato'.

     "In the infirmary," Mara told him, "It's five in the morning, can't you sleep till seven?"

     "Not when I started my nap at eleven yesterday," he replied and checked his pocket watch to determine it wasn't the day before yesterday that he'd gone to sleep.

     "You could have slept more," Mara's look- sound and act-alike told him, rising from his bed"Nobody else will be up."  He averted his eyes from her nakedness, before he could apologize.

     'WHAT DO YOU MEAN I WASN'T SELECTED?!' shook the entire house, followed by elephantine stomping up the stairs.

     "Sounds almost like Ayeka," he muttered and braced himself for the woman to slam the door open, which happened.  The human-appearing girl fixed him with a furious glare of 'moral outrage no mere man would ever understand!' TM, which happened, and prepared some attack to punctuate the moral rectitude of the girl's argument.  This last was interrupted as the girl realized the bokken was sheared off just above the hilt and the rest of it was nowhere to be seen.

     "I fight my own battles, I don't need any fighters," he said calmly.  Especially Royal idiots with temper control issues, he thought.

     "You think you can challenge me?" she asked haughtily.

     A little Kuno blood in her, he thought.  "You mean beat you in an arena with League Rules, timed rounds and all that?" he asked, "Of course I couldn't.  But with you storming into my bedroom waving a wooden sword around?"  He let that hang in the air.

     "I wasn't ready."

     "If I thought you were," he said coldly, "I would feed you to Widows.  I'd threaten to spank you, but you'd probably revel in it, and you're such a screamer."

     She glared at him, blushing furiously, too embarrassed to speak.

     "I will get a sword and challenge you properly," she managed after gasping like a beached fish for several moments.

     "If you wanted a ready sword - " Mara taunted, "You came in with the wrong attitude.  He's too shy for your approach."

     I'm glad you said that, and not me.  She's too embarrassed, instead of too furious to respond, he thought as he spun the girl around and gave her a shove, then closed the door.

     "I just love waking up to a crisis," he said, "It means I can always do without my morning coffee.  Adrenaline, the breakfast of true champions."

     "Well, some of us like our morning coffee," Ritsuko said as she opened the door and looked into the room.  Jeff looked away, all she was wearing was a very abbreviated bra, and she was completely indistinguishable from the Ritsuko he remembered, including 'the carpet matching the curtains' both were blonde with short brown roots.

     "That sounds like you, well, the you I remember I - " Jeff paused, stared at her.  She struck a very suggestive pose.  He stammered an apology and looked away.  Once his eyes were closed, his mind putting things together.  Ritsuko at doorway, Misato in the healing center, Mara in the bed, he thought, noted the expectant look on Mara's and Ritsuko's faces, as they'd already figured it out.

     "Is morning always like this?" Kiyone asked as she stood up from Jeff's bed.  Jeff quickly looked down in embarrassment and realization.  "Oh am I so hideous he won't even look at me?" Kiyone wailed, her attempt to drape herself across his back was forestalled by Mara.

     "Let him finish waking up," Mara guided the other woman - Pokègirl - out, closing the door, "You had all night to put your hands on him, and we already got him used to groping-while-asleep, not my fault - "  Mara closed the door behind her, leaving Jeff alone.

     Jeff stared at the door, shaking in utterly mortification, he nearly jumped when someone knocked on the door.  If it's little Miss 'I deserve It Because I'm Breathing' I'm going to commit homicide, he thought as he opened the door.

     "Yes, we let her in," Ritsuko told him as she pushed in past him, and she closed the door behind her, "I watched and made sure you were safe.  She'll be one of your group, it's best you get used to her presence."

     "In my bed?" his voice was shaking, "I believe I have enough to get several tents and separate sleeping bags for each person - why are you shaking your head?" he asked.  He couldn't stop his own shaking from fear and anger.

     "Pokègirls are - pack - animals, extremely social.  The sight, the touch, the smell of the Alpha male is necessary for . . . well, staving off existential dread."  She laid a hand on his shoulder.  "Unbonded Pokègirls all feel . . . incomplete without a Tamer, someone, a human who gives direction and meaning.  Pokègirls may fight for the position of Alpha female, but the Alpha is always the second-in-command, even an Alpha who can overwhelm her Tamer's will will want the Tamer to at least seem like they are agreeing with and supporting the Alpha's decisions."  She put her arms around his shoulders and pulled him into a hug that was more motherly than erotic.

     "That all makes wonderful, logical sense and is probably a very insightful commentary.  How does it apply to waking up to finding naked girls in my bed?"  Ritsuko's calm presence eased the panic and anger he'd felt.

     "If you're going to lead a group of Pokègirls, there are things you have to understand.  First, a human cannot `accompany` a group of Pokègirls, the Pokègirls will automatically fall into the Tamer/Pokègirls paradigm, oh the collective noun for Pokègirls is harem, like a murder of crows or a parliament of owls, and the Tamer/Pokègirl paradigm requires physical closeness and contact, you're right about spanking, it qualifies as closeness and contact, or the Pokègirl feels rejected.  The rejection can manifest itself in many unpleasant ways."

     "Why don't I just throw her on the ground and have my wanton way with her?" Jeff asked disgustedly.  Ritsuko had been rocking him side to side, lowering his anxiety level, despite her state of undress.  Maybe the pose was just pro forma, or fighting for the Alpha female spot, he thought.

     "Well, I don't know about throw, flowers and chocolate before or after might be a nice touch," Ritsuko replied, "But you are on the right track.  Second, Pokègirls are not only physi - ologically programed to act that way, loose Pokègirls are usually dangerous, and public displays of affection are the best demonstration of - well, ownership, only the most underbred would want to engage in sex in a public place, although there are some types . . .  Don't look so horrified, we'll guide you, that is why you're paying good money for, guidance."

     "Thank you," he said, feeling a distinct 'down elevator' feeling in the pit of his stomach.  But that's in the future, he thought, Not now.  "Great, do you know that before you've had your coffee, all your angles are wrong?  Non-Euclidian, alien and outre."

     "Oh," she said, drinking down the coffee and stepping around in front of him, "What about now?" she asked as she put her arms around his neck.

     "Uh," he said, unable to back away, the wall was in his way.

     "I understand about no flowers of chocolate, but I do need some help with my existential dread," she said huskily, "You do want to help me with that?  Don't you?"

     "Flowers of chocolate?" he asked, "You want me to -?"

     "Oh yes, please," she murmurred, "Be rough, be gentle, just be - inside me."

     "Uh - is - that what you really want?" he stammered.

     "You seduced that Tarantella, the spider girl," she cooed, laying her head on his shoulder and caressing his cheek, "Can't you seduce me too?"

     "All I did was tell her I noticed all the silk and - "

     "Like her tight shorts?" Ritsuko asked, "She is cute, I don't blame you, maybe . . . maybe both of us?  We get each other all ready and . . . well, you are a good-looking man-child."  Her other hand drifted down and massaged his behind.

     That got him to jump clear.  He opened the door and found two dog-like girls and a catlike one.  One of the dog-types 'eeped' at being caught eavesdropping and went tearing off down the hall on all fours, ending up in a heap at the bottom of the stairs.  The remaining pair knelt in the hall and kept staring at him, or rather the part of him that was at eye-level.  Their tails were wagging in unison, the cat's air of nonchalance was further eroded by her ears swiveling to track every movement he made.  They were pretty, a little younger than he was, and both were wearing what looked like two handkerchiefs and a necktie, the later not around their necks.  They had the same fight or flight intensity he'd seen on some of the others.

     Is Ritsuko right?  They want me to -?  This is just spooky, he thought, Worse than Japan, sure they'd stare in public, but you knew they were snickering about 'the monkey' once they thought you couldn't understand.  So it was momentary fascination with something alien and not-entirely welcome.  This is just . . . disturbing.  Now every girl wanting to crawl into bed with Ranma even I can understand, he is both handsome and mightily thewed, I'm just a size 54 Extra Long skeleton with a size 38 Regular skin stretched over it.

     "Can I do something for you?" he asked, forcing his apprehension down to manageable levels.

     "Yes we want - " the cat began excitedly, as if chasing a mouse.  The dog clamped her hands over the cat's mouth, grinning like a maniac.

     "We were told to tell you dinner is ready?"

     "That was . . . hours ago.  You two have been sitting here ever since?"

     Both nodded.

     "They wanted you to eat something warm," Mara said as she approached, then she fell over backwards laughing at all three expressions.  The pair immediately scrambled away.

     Probably in embarrassment, he thought, glancing through the doorway at Ritsuko who also seemed on the edge of hysterics.

     He glanced at the Storm Demon.  Now I know why I keep you around, he thought, You're the only one who treats me as I expect to be treated.  I just wish being treated with contempt didn't feel so normal.  Having a harem of pretty, willing girls ought to be a fantasy, he thought, I'd rather be exchanging fire with those giant spiders.  All they could do is kill me, not genuinely hurt me.

     Kiyone and Liv walked towards the kitchen, Liv had been up all night going over the list of who was the best choice for the three slots.  Before she'd gone to bed, Kiyone and Liv had both agreed that they would concentrate on those girls who would normally be overlooked and passed over by other Tamers, because they had some troublesome attitudes.

     Like her, Kiyone thought.

     Or had aspects that other Tamers would avoid.

     Like me, Kiyone admitted to herself.

     The crowd at the entrance to the kitchen was an unusual affair.  The early and late risers usually segregated for breakfast.

     Not this time, Kiyone thought, I'm glad I'm tall.  She raised herself up on her tiptoes to look over her shorter siblings.  She dropped back flat-footed and shook her head at what she had seen.  Okay, even Liv is glaring at me, she thought as she lifted herself up to look again, I did!  I did see him cooking!  She dropped back down and found her knees had also relaxed against her will. Liv caught her, the Witch's expression told her that the price of not dropping Kiyone was an explanation.

     "He - he - he's cooking," she whispered as if saying it aloud would spin the world off its axis.  "And the Storm Demon is tasting for him."

     "He's cooking for . . . her?" Liv whispered, "Or for himself."

     "If he is," Kiyone said quietly, "They eat as much as the entire ranch.  I - " Kiyone stopped as Liv joined her sitting on the floor.

     "I - think I'm going to have to change the roster . . . again," Liv said.

     "Maybe not.  Can you imagine a Tamer and a Pokègirl cooperating to feed his harem?" Kiyone asked, several around them were `shushing` them.  The girl thinks she's sneaky, but she's an amateur, she thought of the young Witch.

     Breakfast was surreal. I can't believe he made us all sit down and wait for him or his two aides to serve us, Kiyone couldn't believe it, But it's happening.  But watch the eyes, look at how he's gauging our responses.

     One girl collapsed in hysterical giggles at the scene.  Kiyone glanced at Liv.  Okay, she's off the short list, she thought at Liv's nod.  Mokoto dropped her sword and nearly fell out of her chair.

     "You must have had experience," Kiyone said as Jeff deftly served the hot soup, "As a waitress and cook."  She was trying to keep her tone `friendly`.  I think he'd panic again if I got too nice and gushing, she thought, Why does that scare him?  Pokègirls are Pokègirls.  Any male over the age of fourteen has got to have been ogled by a Pokègirl or two.

     "I worked with some allies at a restaurant," he replied, "The pretty girls in the brief costumes were part of the allure, but I was also part of the floor show."  The nearly universal sighing among those who were waiting to eat caused him to freeze for a moment.

     "NOT - LIKE - THAT!"  He assembled five filled soup bowls in front of him.  "Like this."  He tossed the soup bowls with swift motions.  They landed in front of several very surprised Pokègirls.  "Although the `little old ladies` mornings, I was the one dodging the grabby hands," he added, "And I hated that as much as the girls hated the men pinching their butts."

     Kiyone had been imagining several such opportunities, and saw several others put their hands back in their laps.  She worked to keep the image out of her mind and reminded herself that boiling soup could be poured all over the offender, and those who hadn't been served might take offense.

     "Have you two finished your list?" he asked innocently.  Suddenly Kiyone and Liv were the focus of every eye in the place, some hopeful, some hateful.

     That's not fair, Kiyone thought, Diverting attention that way so you can get out without falling into someone's `tentacles`.

     "Yes, but you'll have to make the final choice," Liv tried to throw it back, but no one took their eyes off her and Kiyone.

     Kiyone picked at the food, to ignore all the hopeful and pleading looks from the others.

     "Hey!  This is good, real good," Liv said in surprise.

     "Of course," Jeff said, nearly offended, "I wouldn't have bothered if I wasn't any good.  I have to thank Mara for tasting for me.  It seems Pokègirls' idea of good food is subtly different than a humans, or mine at least."  Suddenly the sound of utensils drown out everything else.  Kiyone tasted it.  It is good.  Very good . . . nearly better than Sasami's, she thought in amazement, Oh boy, does this complicate things!

Laying Low, Seeking Out The Poorer Quarters

     Ritsuko watched the show unfold, and understood why it was happening the way it was happening.  Once she had been called Marina, now she would only answer to Ritsuko.  Ritsuko Akagi, she thought, I thought sex was required for bonding, evidently skin and blood are all that is required.  She's rubbed herself against him when the nightmares of the battle had come to her, as had the others.  I tasted his blood when either Misato or Mara scratched him, she thought, I wasn't even aware of it until I woke up.  Still, I still want to be `claimed` in the traditional way.  She also couldn't deny his fear and shyness captivated her long denied mothering instincts.

     Nearly every Pokègirl at the ranch was perched at the windows, on fences and in the doorways.  He doesn't know that's normal anytime a Tamer or Researcher or pet fancier comes to buy, she thought of her Tamer's, or soon-to-be Tamer's, discomfort, They all want to know what catches the `customer's` eye.  What they can do to make themselves attractive to `nice` Masters.  She felt sympathy for the young man who calmly put himself between Spinnenangsts and the wounded, and now, was nearly terrified by this much more benign attention.

     And the little Witch girl seems almost as scared as Jeff is, Ritsuko mentally added as Liv cleared her throat.  The silence that descended was oppressive.  The calm before the storm, she thought.

     "A Tamer is a standard roving troubleshooter, but they are expected to use their six Pokègirls to carry the fighting load.  That doesn't sound like you."

     "It isn't," Jeff replied primly.

     "A Field Researcher is allowed to study four Pokègirls, and have a security force of four other Pokègirls.  Since you already have a Storm Demon and an evolved Valkyrie-based Armsmistress, or Seraph, following you without killing each other.  Adding a Megami and a Witch will further confuse the issue, giving you something to study and report on, which is required for the position of Field Researcher."

     "I'm supposed to explain how I keep you four from killing each other?" Jeff asked.

     "Yes," Liv told him in a frightened tone, "In a way that others might learn for your actions."

     'From your actions', Liv.  Considering she's actually negotiating with her future Master, she's not as frightened as I expected, Ritsuko thought.  "She's trying to point out that it's almost impossible to maintain that group's stability.  Either the Infernal or the Celestial must submit or die."

     "Any experience with Great Old Ones or Outer Gods?" Jeff asked.

     Ritsuko and Liv exchanged confused glances.

     "I'll take that as a 'no'," Jeff said, "Please continue.  If I submit reports I can have eight."

     "Yes, four is too few and I doubt you'd want to battle to maintain six," Liv said, and took a deep breath as Jeff nodded, "So Mara, Misato, Oyuki and I are the four study subjects, Ritsuko is a Matron, they have an affinity for middle management, so she should remain."

     "Administrative and Legal support," Jeff said, nodded, "What about Logistics?"

     Liv's nearly fainting, Ritsuko though, Stay strong, he won't bite, only disagree . . . but you won't be able to argue back, will you?  That is funny.

     "Kiyone is a good investigator and a skilled weaver an - and manufacturerer of sulk - silik - SILK," Liv began stammering, "If she were an Ociffer Jenny, she'd be a cop - "

     "Officer Jenny, another Pokègirl breed?" Jeff asked.

     Liv tried to answer twice then simply nodded.  "She wo - would maybe be a de - decective - detective."

     "Stop," Jeff said gently but firmly, "Take a deep breath, there is no rush."

     Liv stood there, trembling and breathing.  Ritsuko took pity on her and waved Jeff over to her.  "You might start by telling her that Oyuki and she are accepted or rejected," Ritsuko explained, "That uncertainty is what's tearing her up."

     "I haven't decided," Jeff admitted, "How well she lays out her case, and how well she can think under pressure is also important."  He walked over to Liv, intent on having her tell the rest.  "Yes.  Another set of eyes," Jeff agreed, "What about you?"

     Liv blanched, her hard-won composure scattered to the wind, her hands dancing over each other like two epileptic spiders making love.  "I . . . I . . . "

     "She's a Witch, she wants you to be her mentor.  A powerful mage," Kiyone threw in, coming to Liv's rescue.

     Jeff nodded, "That leaves two spots."

     "That's where you come in, I have ten candidates, with different skills and abilities, but the final decision is yours," Liv added, managing not to blurt it out in one breath, "You also have to select an Alpha, the leader among your harem."

     "Since I value truthful and accurate information, and that's what each of you would provide me, wouldn't you work that out yourselves?" Jeff asked innocently, and blanched at the gasp from the audience and the finalists.

     "That isn't how it usually goes," Mara said, "Don't glare Liv, I don't want the job, too much responsibility."

     "Plus, you know the iconoclast can't be the one on the shelf," Jeff shot back.  The audience members were now murmuring among themselves, drowning out all other conversations.  Katsuhito stepped forward, presented Jeff with a Pokèdex.  Unable to make himself heard over the din, he activated it for Jeff and punched the analyzer button, while the ten finalists looked on with trepidation.

     Tifa, a Growltit, Ritsuko remembered getting to know the ten finalists, Priss the red- haired Skarmory, Nene the bubblegum-pink-haired Ladyba, Linna the brown-haired Shadowcat, Sylvia the brunette Dragonqueen.  Maybe Tifa, but not the other four, Ritsuko thought, He wouldn't break up that team, and he sees it.  Sylve, the Shieldmaiden.  Okay, a nod.  Hmm, I always thought they were more restrained than that.  She smirked at the enthusiastic hug and kiss, and her Master's fear and complete cluelessness about why the strength of the reaction.

     Okay.  NO! &nb sp;Don't glare at him! she thought to the Tomboy, 'OUT!'  I can almost hear him say it.  What do you expect?  If you didn't want to be part of the team, you should have told Liv or Kiyone, instead you took someone else's spot.  Okay, Oyuki the Megami presents herself, about time.  Another nod.  Oh, kiss his hand, how very elegantly submissive, Ritsuko thought, One left.  Look at those two, they're so nervous.  One of the pair collapsed, the other peed herself.  Oh, way to go, scare him to death why don't you?  All right, back to Tifa, Ritsuko thought as Jeff walked back to the Growltit, who shook her head.  Okay, are you going to tell her that her rival and would-be love aren't coming back to take her, or do you leave her with her illusions for a while longer?

     Jeff nodded and let her go, the four looked apprehensively at Jeff and at each other.  Jeff glanced at Mara, who shook her head 'no', Ritsuko did the same when he looked at her.  The four left with a mixture of fear, depression and happiness.  Jeff gestured and his harem assembled around him.  The murmurs had increased in noise, he had to shout to be heard.  "I'm asking for a vote - "  The silence that descended as soon as he spoke meant he hollered that across the field.  He hung his head as new murmurs washed over him, all commenting on the idea of Pokègirls actually voting on something as important as the members of a Tamer's harem.

     At least he's got the good sense to listen to the comments being made, Ritsuko thought as they waited for the noise to die down.

     "Do we leave it at seven, or fill in the eighth slot?  I want to hear whatever input you care to bring to the table."

     "Seven," Oyuki said, then she gave a faint smile, "There are historical precedents."

     Okay, we've got a Megami comedian, why didn't we get a Coyotits to start with? Ritsuko silently asked the universe in general.

     "The last two were more stable than the next four on the list," Liv admitted, "After that, the rest are way down."

     "What about members of the audience?" Jeff asked.

     "Our Grandfather's grandson - IS THAT TENCHI?" Kiyone pointed and yelled the last, suddenly NO ONE was looking at them, everyone was staring intently in the direction Kiyone was pointing, "Let's just say most of the ranch is less than acceptable, unless you want to chase - the aforementioned boy - around and constantly challenge him in winner-take-all Pokègirl battles."

     "Well, I'm not happy sharing you with six, why would I be happier with seven?" Mara said, "Besides we have an open slot, right now, that might be more important.  A Field Researcher doesn't have access to storage and you can't take Pokègirls in salvage, so having an available slot for a captured Feral might be a good idea."

     I had considered her jealousy, but not having open slots, Ritsuko admitted to herself, There is a brain in her.

     The newly-evolved Seraph seemed uncomfortable with a Witch and a Storm Demon in `her` harem, as well as the attention being paid her.  She stood with her head down, saying nothing.

     Ritsuko felt the eyes fall on her.  "Do any of you specifically have someone to bring along?" she asked, caught a quick glance from Sylve to the other four who had been so relieved not to be separated, but no one spoke.

     None of the others had anyone to add, or more to say.  "So the consensus is to leave it at seven?" Jeff asked.  The girls all nodded.  "Seven it will be."

     The baggage train for just eight people amazed Jeff.  In the field, he'd had less than half the amount that was his portion, but he'd paid for it, and he'd been told it was all necessary.  Some looks like bondage gear, for gorillas, he thought as the girls loaded that in their packs, What's its real purpose, and why are they acting like they're hiding it?  Then he looked at all the wistful looks from the other girls in the windows, doorways, and atop the roofs and gables of the nearby buildings.  This is just spooky, he thought, I can't imagine what I've done to create this kind of fascination . . . but that is why I need guides.  But seven of them?  I guess I really don't know.

     "So what do I call you, what do you want your names to be?" he asked.  They already told me the Storm Demon changed her name to Mara, it's not fair to deny that to the others.

     Mara froze, and stood seeing the others had also frozen.  He can't mean that? she thought, A Pokègirl changing her name is an act of defiance and rebellion against her former owner who gave her the name.  While a Tamer giving a Pokègirl a new name is one of the oldest ways of `controlling` and `taking possession` of a Pokègirl, severing her previous ties.  Before programming and Taming Cycles came in.  "You want us to choose our names?" she asked.

     "Yes, I can't just call you by your, what is it species or type?" Jeff asked, "Anyway, and there were people who really wanted to change what they're called.  Since I haven't registered you, I can enter whatever you want," he said.

     You can't mean that, to bind us to you, you'd let us select our own chains, she thought, as she stood their shivering, I can't believe it, I can't believe I actually want to go along with this.  She looked at him, in her heart of hearts she knew she couldn't disobey, she knew he would never hurt her, and she knew she couldn't bear to be parted from him.  This is ridiculous, I can't be bound, I can't be bonded, I can't be constrained, and I can't even reproduce parthenogenically.  I'm just a failure as a Pokègirl, so what do I have to lose?  "Mara," she said, "I already chose that."  She watched him enter the data, then hand her the Pokèdex, letting her run the 'dex over her neck's barcode.  "I bind myself freely to you, I could run away," she said hoping she sounded defiant rather than terrified, she kept staring in his eyes, awaiting his decision and reaction.  She felt her heart soar as he smiled, kissed her on the cheek.

     "Does the iconoclast make a run for it," he whispered in her ear, as she shivered from the tickling of his breath, "Or does she bend a little now, to be heard and to bend the world a little later, until she and the new world she's created are entwined?"

     She handed the Pokèdex back and pulled her hair out of the way.  I won't sign my life away, you'll have to take it, even if I don't fight it, she thought, she shivered more as she felt the cold metal of the scanner, then again as he kissed her on her code.

     "It will be all right," he told her quietly.  She could only nod.

     I did it.  I . . . surrendered . . . I didn't fight, my only defiance was making him take what I would have begged to give him, if he hadn't taken it, she thought, And he was glad I defied, and I was so happy about the praise.  She looked up as the others, she looked at her Master, who gave her a brief smile that made her feel so good and reassured.  I am designed to raze the strong!  To rage at the world!  What has he DONE to me?!  And why does it fill me with peace and happiness, rather than frenzy and madness to get loose?

     "Ritsuko," the Matron said, carrying off her defiance better than Mara had, "You keep thinking that's who I am, I might as well make it easier on you.  You cared for her, I'd be honored to carry her name."

     Now he's embarrassed, she thought, And worse when she kisses him.  This is going to be fun.  A blank slate as far as a being a Tamer is concerned, what an opportunity!  The way he acts, I'd bet he hasn't even been with a girl that way.  He'd been too polite for that.  Yes, great fun.  And since I know that, I can use that to chose the Alpha, oh, it will be fun.

     "Uh - I - well," he said.

     "She must have been very special," Ritsuko nee Marina told the stammering boy.

     "She's not dead," he said.

     And that leaves a huge amount unsaid, Mara realized.

     "Still," Ritsuko said as she accepted the Pokèdex to see her name and scanned herself.

     Jeff repeated this with Liv and Kiyone, who kept their names and pulled their hair aside to let their Master scan them.  "I suspect you already changed your name," he accused Liv as she held her hair aside and he scanned her.

     Even the Witch surrendered herself that way, or is she too young to understand? Mara wondered, Yet the Matron had the backbone to do it herself.  Little Witch, you already had a competition for the Alpha spot, and you lost a lot of ground.  Sylve and Oyuki who kept their names, but managed to scan themselves in.  Oyuki shivered as she did it, Mara thought, Then there was one.  Mara watched her Master approach the Seraph.

     "And what do you want be called?" he asked carefully.

     What is he afraid of? Mara thought and prepared to intervene if the Seraph attacked, Great, I'm going to draw the Seraph's ire to save my Master who hasn't Tamed me or any of the others yet.

     "I . . . do . . . not . . . exist . . . " the Seraph said, "My . . . I . . . died . . . "

     "She and her Tamer must have shared a Delta Bond, or even Recognized," Ritsuko said, "He's dead, so she must have died."

     "You aren't dead.  You are very much alive, I - "  He drew back from her luminous gaze.

     "If he is gone!  If what killed him is gone!  If vengeance is denied!  What AM I?!" she thundered at him, then drew back a hand to strike, it filled with a glow.

     "What do you wish to be?" he asked coldly, ignoring his imminent demise.

     Mara drew back from him, as did the others.  No longer a scared kid, but something very old and very alien, and very powerful.  That's what I felt strike Brusellia even as she chewed me up, her mind trying to drive me to despair, then came that same alienness, pouring over and through me.  I couldn't surrender, I couldn't even understand anything for a few moments, not despair not even pain.  It was as if I was watching the entire universe from somewhere else.  Somewhere ghastly and disconnected.

     "I . . . I .. . not . . . know," the Seraph said, dropping her hand to her side, "I do not wish to remember."

     "That's a betrayal of you and everyone you cared about, surely you both had dreams together, hopes, something to plan for and do between battles," he said, a faint warmth creeping back into his voice as the alienness faded.

     "Yes," the Seraph said vacantly, touching her belly.

     Kits, maybe a ranch of their own, Mara guessed.

     "Then you should consider carrying on with those dreams, for yourself or for others.  Focus on that, you may be able to carry it out."

     She looked at him, as if seeing him for the first time.  "Yes," she said quietly.  Mara tensed, ready to spring if she dropped into madness once again.  "Yes," she said and nodded.

     "Then what should I call you?" he asked.

     Almost tenderly, Mara thought, The alienness is ebbing, he's going back to being just a kid over his head and doing his best.  But which is he, what is he?

     "You chose."  She stretched out her arm and took his shoulder, Mara saw him struggle against his instincts to leap away or evade.

     Oh that makes sense, Mara watched as he accepted being pulled into a hug, arms and wings, with all the grace of a brave man being led to the gallows.  She's going to reduce you to a thin, red paste, and you stand your ground, she hugs you, and that frightens you, she thought as she sensed his fear, and that it did not abate as the Seraph held him.  He accepts it in good grace, and returns it.  Am I the only one who knows how he really feels about it? Mara glanced at the others, who all wore the 'how romantic!' glazed and idiotic expressions, Except Ritsuko.  Who glanced at her and nodded.  Okay, this is going to take a bit of work to understand and overcome.  He's gentle because he was never treated gently.  Terrific, I get a nice Tamer, and he's gotten a steady diet of would-be Psidykes, Mantises and Widows.  Terrific, just terrific, Mara thought.

     "Well, since Ritsuko had already noted I've slipped with her name.  I'll probably slip with yours, so how about Misato?"

     "Yes," `Misato` said, as Jeff typed in the name, she pulled her long hair aside and presented her neck for scanning.

     Intentional duplication or what? Mara thought of her likely rival.

     "Was Misato . . . important to you?" Misato asked.

     "You could say that, she was my commanding officer, she tried to kill me on several occasions," Jeff said, "And other things."

     Mara considered as they prepared to head out.  "What do we call you?" Mara asked.

     "Well, my name is Jeffrey Kevin Davis, I prefer Jeff, although because many of my comrades couldn't pronounce it correctly, they called me Raccoon, or Roku-kun."

     "We'll be expected to be call you Master," Kiyone said, "It's the custom to show deference and respect, and formality."

     And it's practically engraved in our being to do so, Mara added but listened intently.

     "If it's formality and respect," he said bitterly, "Then you may call me 'General' or 'The Scholarly Dragon'.  That should be formal enough for anyone.  I'm no one's 'Master'.  'I would not be a slave, so I would not be a master.' Abraham Lincoln.  The Americans' national debate about slavery and Federalism cost about 600,000 lives, out of some thirty-one million, or nearly one of 50 of the total population.  With luck it won't come to that.  What little I've read about your current population, you couldn't absorb 1 in 50 or 600,000 dead.  My assumption is that you chose me as much as I chose you, am I incorrect?"

     "No," Mara blurted out, then saw the others nodding or mouthing their agreement.

     "Good.  Then I also expect you to speak up.  If we're in one of those 'formal' situation, then learn to phrase comments in the form of a question and other tricks.  I had to learn them, I'll teach them to you."

     "Why would you have to learn them?" Sylve asked.

     "There are things about my past I'm not ready to share," Jeff told them, "I'm also assuming that there are bits of your pasts that you feel are none of my business.  I'd also like you to know what there is very little that you could tell me that I haven't encountered before, but I don't know how all the pieces fit together in this corner of the universe."

     Jeff's Harem

Oyuki - Megami

Kiyone - Tarantella

Sylve - ShieldMaiden

Misato - Seraph

Ritsuko - Matron

Mara - Storm Demon

Liv - Witch

Author's Note: The Malakim is a Gold Continent/Sunshine League nickname for the Valkyrie-based Armsmistress, not a new type of Pokègirl.  The Storm Demon is another failed attempt at creating a Neo-Legendary, a failure even to not being able to reproduce by parthenogenesis, so she and her experimental sisters are completely unique, most were expended against Brusellia.

Brusellia and her Spinnenangsts (German: Arachnophobia) were discovered in A.S. 299, either Widows were drawn to Brusellia and became Spinnenangsts or they were generated from other Pokègirls.  Although in death, no differences between Widows and Spinnenangsts could be found.  It was speculated that Brusellia was actually not a Pokègirl but something else entirely.  No examination was made before the body was burned.

MATRON (aka HAKIMA), the Housemother Pokegirl

Type: Very Near Human
Element: Normal
Frequency: Common
Diet: human style foods, leaning towards vegetarian
Role: frequently domestics, salesgirls, factory workers
Libido: Average
Strong Vs: Ghost, domination attacks
Weak Vs: Fighting
Attacks: Cheer, Dodge, Slap, minor Detect Untruth
Enhancements: Enhanced Toughness (x3)
Evolves: None
Evolves From: Damsel (normal)

     Damsels who have evolved to Matron develop slight pudginess, a pleasant and comfortable demeanor, and have strong domestic/nesting instincts. Matrons are usually Damsels who have had children and evolved thereafter. Matrons are no-nonsense borderline pokegirls. A Matron's Feral state is the same as Ingenue's, a state of distraction and inability to focus.

     One major ability of Matrons is that they are very resistant to magical or psychic attempts to influence them mentally or emotionally. If a Dominatrix attempts to dominate a Matron, she is most likely to fail in the end, as a Matron is very hard to force to submit.

     In certain areas Matron are also called Hakima.

WITCH, the Magic Abuser Pokegirl

Type: Very Near Human
Element: Magic
Frequency: Uncommon to Rare
Diet: human style diet
Role: magic wielders that are attuned to a particular sort of magic. Witches are low power but can usually be counted on to have minor tricks that they can use in day-to-day affairs.
Libido: Low (initially)
Strong Vs: Ghost, Fighting
Weak Vs: Psychic, Magic, Water, Fire
Special Weakness: Ticklish
Attacks: Mystic Bolt, Shield, Witches Curse (causes odd and unpredictable minor effect)
Enhancements: Magical Affinity
Evolves: Sorceress (normal), Enchantress (Moon Stone), Elementist (Angel, Diamond, Fire, or Water Stone)
Evolves From: None

     When someone mentions the Witch pokegirl, most recall the proverb 'Only a Witch could want to kiss you and kill you at the same time.' Because of this and their unique attack Witches Curse, the Witch pokegirl isn't all that popular. Though most who have one could tell you that though the proverb is true, it's worth having one. Because Witch's have a tendency to be extreme in everything (from being pissed, to battle, to taming) most tamers rather have a milder mannered girl. The few able to cope, though, find Witches to be able to take down girls that most would consider dangerous.

     Interestingly, because of her Magical Affinity, all Witch's bodies seem more sensitive, making them very ticklish and easily satisfied during taming.

SHIELDMAIDEN, the Defensive Pokegirl

Type: Very Near Human
Element: Psychic
Frequency: Very Rare (human hybrid, does not occur in the wild or reproduce parthenogenetically)
Diet: human style food, with the exception of red meat
Role: bodyguards
Libido: Average
Strong Vs: Fighting, Poison, Psychic
Weak Vs: Bug, Dark, Ghost
Attacks: Reflect, Harden, Foresight, Telekinesis, Armor
Enhancements: Psychic abilities, armored skin
Evolves: Barriermaiden (Cunnydew nectar or psychic-based battle stress)
Evolves From: None

     A Shieldmaiden (aka Shield) is only found when a human and a Psychic-type pokegirl have a child. Shieldmaidens are rare though their numbers are slowly climbing. A Shieldmaiden is an extremely handy pokegirl to have around, her abilities to produce force fields and harden both her own armor and to Armor her Tamer make Shieldmaidens much sought after.