You woke up feeling like you'd ran three marathons and then lifted a truck uphill. Your whole body hurt, and it hurt in all the ways that told you sex was had; lots of sex, you'd never been this sex-tired. Scratch that, you'd never been hurt-aching before, even Kiara's romp had left you drained, not aching.

The groan that left you was worthy of the undead. Even sitting up hurt. Opening your eyes to the dim glow of the room's lights, you noticed the pink-haired pokegirl looking up at you with tight lips and concern in her eyes. Her hand reached out to touch your shoulder. "You're hurt, I should heal you."

A sigh escaped you.

"You pushed yourself yesterday, Master, this... is what happens when you do that."

Which was as good an indicator as any that they'd been taking it easy on you. "I'm old."

"At your age, tamers would have already retired and taken up jobs that are less taxing to their bodies." Diane whispered, her hand reaching out and pressing the palm of her hand against your lower back. She'd zeroed in where it hurt the most. "May I?"

You leaned slightly further forward, closing your eyes as you breathed in. "Does healing aching muscles actually help? Doesn't it undo training or something?"

"Only if it's done during the first six hours before the body begins its own natural healing processes." She whispered. You noted there were no weird sensations, she wasn't healing you yet. "An excess in premature healing can cause atrophy due to musculature not being allowed to trigger any of the processes that come after great exertions. You passed that point several hours ago while you slept."

A deeper sigh. "Heal it, then."

"I... will keep it light, Master." She said. "The aches will still be there, I will focus on reducing the bulk of it since that would still prompt your body to continue its strengthening process rather than stop it entirely."

You nodded, and the third sigh was of relief, the heat suffusing through you as if you were in a sauna. Just like that, the warmth was the one you recognized as the one used for healing. It slowly pushed through your body, and what before was a pain that slowed you down and stopped you from moving was now no more than a dullness throughout your body.

"What would stop me from asking you to do this to me every day?" The words left your mouth in a whisper.

"Your health wouldn't handle it." She replied, her hand slowly pulling away from your back. "My powers are not a miracle, I can help your body, I can't do its work for it."

Absently you nodded. "How... does that work?"

"There are two kinds of healing techniques. The ones that boost the process that your body already goes through, and one that works in tandem to fleshcrafting." Her voice strained. "If you were to lose your hand, I could help you scar the injury, reduce the chances of infection, and bolster your immune system. To regrow your hand I would need to fleshcraft your arm into working in a way humans don't. Raphas are very weak at this. We can do small tweaks over time, but it would take me at least a year or two of constant work. There are other breeds better at this, of course, but at the end of the day how much can be done comes down to the patient themselves."

"The flesh can only handle so much?"

"It is a balancing act, if I force your body to heal, toxins and leftover substances accumulate in your kidneys and liver. I'd need to strengthen them, but pushing that too far would alter the hormonal balance in your system, so I need to push everything one bit at a time." A sigh. "Even then, healing and fleshcrafting exhaust telomeres from forcefully making the cells reproduce faster. That in turn increases chances to have mutations, such as cancer, so I need to focus on making sure telomere exhaustion doesn't happen, which in turn forces the process to be that much slower."

Slowly, you leaned back, finding your head on her lap. You looked up at her as she in turn glanced at your naked body with a clinical eye. "You said it's impossible to achieve immortality."

"The flesh is not all there is to be alive." She shook her head, reaching out, pressing her hand against the centre of your chest. "Mana flows through everyone's body, it is what keeps us alive. A human and a pokegirl are not that different in that regard, we eat, we absorb energy from our surroundings, our soul filters and processes and creates mana, our bodies absorb and guide it, our minds and emotions control it. Pokegirls are better at this than humans by many degrees, but the process is the same." A slight sigh. "Theoretically, if I were powerful enough and knew everything there was to be known about the human body, I could potentially sustain your body for eternity, biologically. But your soul would still decay, and the process would irrevocably break down within a century or two at the most."

"I take it that can't be healed or fixed."

"If there is a way, I don't know of anyone who might know about it." A slight shrug followed. "And even if there were, there is no such thing as perfection. There is still much we don't know about the human body, and I'm certainly not the most powerful fleshcrafter out there." A wan smile appeared on her lips. "If I were, I wouldn't have been sent to work in New Bark, a small warm town at the edge of the league." Her fingers reached to caress your face, her smile brightened. "At least it got me to meet you, Master."

With a slight smile, you reached up to caress her hair, the nurse pokegirl closed her eyes, leaning into your touch, bowing down to kiss you. You relaxed, trying to ignore the gnawing urge to confirm whether you were feeling strangely warm anywhere or not. The second passes quickly. "Tell me about today's schedule."

"It's your day with Monica." She spoke in a whisper, looking as if she hadn't wanted to break off the kiss. "And you have an hour of training to do later in the day. It's mostly stretches though, wouldn't want to start off too strongly."

"Does Monica know it's a day with Monica?" You muttered. "I'm pretty sure she thinks all days are a day with Monica."

Diane tried not to look too exasperated and failed. "It will certainly be... challenging... to teach her the concept of reward." Her hands pulled up, caressing your hair. "At least she's a fast learner. Feral born tend to take longer to care about language."

"Monica's sometimes frustrated when she can't say the things she wants to say." You muttered, closing your eyes. "I too would be frustrated if someone were scratching me and I couldn't properly tell them where the right spot is." Diane giggled a little, to which you had to slowly rise back up. "What's your plan for the day?"

The question caught the nurse slightly by surprise, and she tilted her head a little. "I thought I'd spend it in my ball unless you called for me?"

"I've been... thinking about that." You said. "Now that we're earning more money, we can afford keeping you all out of the pokeballs, so I thought we might as well start doing that."

"You need clothes." Diane declared from the bed, watching you stand up. "New clothes, better ones."

"Expensive." You replied. "I've seen the prices, and it's still unnerving that some are more expensive than..."

"A pokegirl?" Diane offered with an arched brow. "Expensive clothes tend to be protective, well worth the cost most times. And though I would certainly prefer if you were better protected, having a new harem sister would certainly help."

"Well, there you have your homework while I'm out." You muttered. "Try figuring out what possible options might be a good idea to add to the harem that I could potentially afford."

"Is there a time limit?"

"Not really, I expect we'll be pushing to collect money as much as we can, but, you know, keep an eye open for opportunities if anything comes up."

Diane nodded absently, watching you dress. "Any preferences?"

The question was so plain and easy, as if asking for what one would want for breakfast. It made you grimace. You held back the grimace. "Just... I don't even know where to start, I want someone who can help us be better able to handle anything coming our way. Probably best to have a list of potentially interesting breeds we might be able to find."

"I will keep it in mind, Master." She nodded, reaching for the belt with the pokeballs. "I'll handle them while you're out with Monica, unless you wish to take someone else with you?"

"I think I'll survive." You shrugged. "Maybe asking the others what they think could be potentially interesting."

Diane nodded, you headed out to get some grub and get Monica out of her ball.

Monica glanced at the piece of paper with a deep scowl. Her grip on the pencil was very delicate, her fingers holding it almost loosely as she carefully drew the first downward line. She peeked over her shoulder at you as you watched, doing your best to keep a neutral face that betrayed no hints.

Next came a V shape connecting to the top of the first line. A pause, and a second downwards line. The V was large enough to make the two lines at either side look more like ears attached onto it. Still, as far as letter "M"'s went, hers was a decent start. The "O" was easy enough though the spiral inside was a bit over the top.

The feline grabbed the paper, turned it over to face you and raised it to your face. "Mo."

Lowering the paper, she looked at you with a wide smile, you nodded. "Good." You said, reaching over and patting her shoulder. "Ni?"

"Ni."

Monica pouted, turning back down to the paper. With the same gentle slowness as before, the three lines turned into the "N", and the "I" became curved with a drop-shaped dot on top. Again she raised the paper proudly. "Ni!" She declared.

"Good." You smiled. "Ca."

"Ca... Ca..." Her eyes narrowed as she looked down again. The C was easy, though it was a bit closed up, almost becoming an "O", the "A" however took her some effort, especially since she drew it as a triangle first, scowled, and then drew three more lines each higher than the last until she was happy with it. "Ca!"

"Monica."

"Rick?" She replied.

You chuckled, pointing at the paper. "Mo-Ni-Ca."

"Monica!" The feline nodded. "Monica write Monica. Monica good?"

"Monica good."

You leaned to kiss her forehead with a light peck, a gesture she happily took before grabbing your hand. It made you pause as she then placed the pencil on your hand. "Rick write Rick." She said, presenting you with the empty page.

Quirking a brow, you obliged, sitting down next to her and placing the notebook on your lap, ignoring how Monica leaned over your shoulder to watch. You kept the letters large and clear. "Ri." You proclaimed, then followed with the rest of your name. "Chard."

"Chard?" Monica frowned at you, then pouted. "Rick write Rick." Her hand pointed at the paper.

You wanted to sigh and chuckle at the same time, turning the page, you went at it again. "Rick." You wrote and pointed it at her. "Ri-ck." You said.

"Rick." She frowned at the paper, taking the pencil and, slowly, tracing over the letters you'd put down three times before she appeared satisfied about it. "Rick." She said again, nodding, smiling widely and leaning to kiss your forehead. "Rick good."

Somehow you felt like pouting and laughing, you settled for a little grin at the overly enthused feline who'd quickly returned to tracing the pencil over your name several more times. Following this, she carefully closed the notebook and handed it over for you to put into the backpack. Her eyes lingered on your backpack for a second before turning back towards you and grinning from ear to ear.

"Food?"

"Food." You declared with a little nod. "Tasty food."

Her ears perked, her tail twitched, and the grin grew ever larger. "Tasty food!"

"Yup."

The pokegirl looked at you as you turned to walk down the street. She waited for a heartbeat before taking her own pace and following behind you, keeping only half a step behind and slightly to your left, her tail bouncing excitedly while her ears rotated around, trying to focus on the people about her. She wasn't paying much attention to the people though, it looked more like she was trying to figure out where the tasty food would be.

You already had a place in mind, it was, after all, a place that was rather popular with tamers.

The Super B Diner.

"Master, thishishshogud!" Someone proclaimed from one of the outside tables. "I wuv you Master!"

You could've sworn the blonde looked familiar, but you ignored it, turning towards the raven-haired and sharp-eyed waitress as she approached with a customer service smile. "Table for two sir?"

"Yes please." You nodded, then hesitated for a heartbeat. "She's..."

"Oh, don't worry sir, we know how to handle it." She guided you towards one of the empty outside tables that was slightly away from the other occupied ones.

Monica had been looking over her shoulder at the various meals the others had been eating, and only tentatively looking your way before sitting down on the table. You blanched. "No Monica, chair." You pulled out the chair and gestured for her to sit there. The feline took a moment, but obliged.

It took another moment before she managed to adjust enough for her tail to poke through the seat's back-rest, only then did she look happy. "Rick, sit." She patted her lap immediately after.

A little laugh escaped you, and you moved to the only other chair and sitting down there instead. Monica pouted at you, crossing her arms dejectedly as you instead took the opportunity to pull out the laminated menu. Each item had a picture of the meal beside it, and you scooted a little closer to Monica, showing the menu. "Pick?"

"Monica pick Rick," she declared with a pout.

"Pick food."

"Pick food?" Her back straightened, her eyes turning away from the menu. You saw her eyes lock on to the meal one of the nearby patrons was having.

You stopped her from standing up just in time. "Monica, food." You sought out the meal in question- the 'triple cheese meat special'- and you pointed at it, at which the feline squinted, leaning down.

"Ri," she said, her finger poking at the menu, at the 'ri' in 'Triple'. "Ri?"

"Triple," you said. "T-ri-ple."

"Triiiple, new word?" She perked with a little smile. "Triple new word?"

"Triple." You made a face, looked around, and found the napkins. "Triple." You now took three of them, putting them in order. "Triple." You then held out three fingers.

"Hm..."

The feline reached for one of the napkins, pushing away the other two. You looked at her then very carefully grab the tissue and rip it into three pieces. "Triple?"

Your eyes widened a little. "Yes, good Monica." You patted her arm, earning an eager nod out of her.

"Are you ready to order, sir?"

"Erm, yes, please, two triple cheese meat special?"

"Triple!" Monica declared.

"Yes, triple," you chuckled. "And some milk for her and water for me."

"Very well sir."

The girl turned to leave, Monica's gaze followed her for a moment before turning back towards you. Looking down, she took your hand in hers, pushing the thumb and index down. "Triple," she said as she pointed at the three remaining fingers. Then, she lowered one more. "New word?"

"Two," you said.

The feline turned towards the three pieces of paper, taking one away. "Two?" At your nod, she then lowered another finger. "New word?"

"One."

"One." She nodded, a bit more solemnly, looking at the torn napkin and taking out another piece of paper. There was a frown on her face as she glanced at your hand, at the single finger. She hesitated for a second, reaching out and curling the final finger. "New word?"

"Zero."

Monica nodded slowly. "Zero." Taking the final piece of the napkin into her hand, she looked onto the spot where it had been before, now devoid. "Zero." She frowned. "Zero bad. Monica no like zero."

That made you tilt your head slightly. "You don't like zero?"

The feline shook her head. "Zero Rick, bad. Zero Monica, bad." Her voice became solemn. "Zero Two Monica bad."

"Zero Two Monica?" You had to frown a little.

"Two Monica." She held two fingers up with one hand, the other reaching to tap her head. "Monica." She said, holding one finger up, then moved that same hand to her side, to a spot above the floor that was at her hip as she raised the second finger. "Two Monica." A shake of her head. "Zero Two Monica bad." The two fingers moved back to being only one. "Two Monica hurt, Monica hurt."

A chill ran through you, your eyes widened slightly and breath caught in your throat. "You... had children?"

"Chil-dren?"

"New word later." You quickly declared as you glanced at the waitress approaching, carrying two platters of the same dish.

"I'll bring your drinks right up!" The waitress cheerily declared.

The fugue that had permeated into Monica's mood lifted instantly, her eyes widened as she looked at the plate, the sandwich upon it, the melted cheese, the steaming meat, the fluffy bread. The feline licked her lips just as she began to lean in, but froze just as she was about to take the bite, glancing at you.

A little roll of your eyes, you reached and grabbed the sandwich. "Copy." You said, bringing up the meal to your lips and taking a bite. It had a strong taste, just hitting the spot.

"Copy." Monica nodded solemnly, carefully grabbing the sandwich and bringing it up to her mouth. A deep sniff followed, and then a slow lick of her lips, before she opened her mouth and chomped half of the thing in one go.

Her eyes widened, her tail stood straight, her ears perked, and her pupils dilated. "GOOSH!" She spoke through the mouthful of food before immediately beginning to chomp as quickly as she could. No sooner had she gulped the first mouthful than she chomped on the second, and then the third.

You hadn't even made it a third of the way through yours and Monica was already licking her fingers and the plate.

"Good, tasty food!" She proclaimed, licking her lips, eyes locking onto yours.

"Rick food." You stuck your tongue out at her, taking another bite of your meal.

A pout, a deep pout, a deeply unpleasant hurtful pout, the pout of all pouts, her pursed lips and widened eyes begged for attention. The slight mewling that came next was practically a nail in the coffin. You grumbled, taking another bite.

"Rick food." You grit your teeth, another chomp, another bite, and Monica whimpered as if you'd struck her.

God damn it.

You gave a long-winded sigh as you were halfway through the thing, pausing and looking at the hungry hungry pokegirl and her sad, sad eyes.

"Rick food," you said with an attempt to muster resolve.

She looked at your food, then at your face, and her lower lip trembled. "Monica good," she mumbled dejectedly. "Monica pets Rick?"

This was not a game you were going to win, and with a second sigh, you split what remained of the sandwich in half, offering one part to her. For a split second you feared she'd chomp your fingers off, but the feline leaned forward, placing the piece and your fingers into her mouth. As you let go, her tongue lapped at your fingers before she closed the mouthful, loudly chewing on it.

She'd grasped your wrist though, and as you finished what you had left, she tugged the sequestered hand to lick on your fingers.

"And here are your... drinks..." The waitress had to pause and blink at the empty plates. "Someone's a hungry girl huh."

"Yeah... could I get two more to go?" You tucked your fingers away from Monica's eager tongue and sipped from your water.

The waitress giggled. "Certainly, sir."

With the focus returning to Monica, you glanced as she focused on the glass of milk, sniffing it first before bringing it to her lips and lapping. She did halt a moment, looking at you as you drank water. It took her some tries, but she shifted her position to tentatively mimic you. Only after a bit did she seem to grasp the concept and chugged down the whole thing quickly.

One of these days you'd teach her the meaning of the word "slow", though today didn't seem like it would be the right time.

Waiting for the waitress to bring the extra two and pay up, you had to struggle a little to make sure Monica didn't snatch the baggie from you as she kept eyeing it like... well, a tiger eyeing succulent prey.

"Diane food, Raven food," you proclaimed to her, to which she could only pout, reach out, and tug you into her arms.

A moment of confusion followed as she stroked your hair between her fingers. "Rick good," she declared, very gently patting your head. "Monica pets Rick, Rick food good." 

Holding back the grumble at how much she seemed to enjoy petting you as you walked, you tried to take the opportunity to consider where to go next. Maybe the park? The feline would certainly appreciate a post-meal nap under the sun, and you certainly wouldn't be against taking the time to have her lay down and you get some progress on reading potential information of other pokegirl breeds...

The trip through the small city was calm. The streets were mostly empty at this hour, people were still eating more than anything. The chatter and conversations drifted through the air like a small barely understandable song that had its own little beat. Your mind drifted as Monica's fingers kept playing with your hair. The cobblestone pressed against your shoes, warm enough you could feel it through the soles, the slight breeze cooling you off.

"Children."

The word startled you, your focus drifting from the reddish greys of the ground ahead of you and up to Monica.

The tall tanned woman had frozen in place, her ears perked, tail still, her eyes focused on something on the side. Following her gaze, you saw three girls playing around a tree. They mustn't have been older than five, they were running surprisingly fast for children of that age, chasing one another, giggling and bumbling about. One tripped and Monica twitched, you'd reached for her Pokeball but froze as you saw her eyes tighten in a pained grimace.

She looked at you, and then at the three girls. "Children?"

You slowly nodded, not quite sure where this was going.

"Monica children... zero," she said with a weak mewl, one hand reaching to her stomach and slowly caressing. "Monica children hurt, Monica hurt, Monica... lose fight."

A sigh escaped her, her eyes lowering to her hand as it touched her lower abdomen. Closing her eyes, she drew in a deep breath, slumping her shoulders and shaking of her head. You reached out and grasped her free hand, squeezing it between your fingers and tugging it enough for her to notice, and the feline opened her eyes again and looked at you with a tight smile.

"Rick Monica children," she said, pulling your hand and placing it on her lower abdomen, against her hard stomach covered by soft warm skin.

Looking at the spot where your hand touched upon her sun-kissed skin, you felt a tightness in your gut. Inside your mind, the image of a small box and lonely nights coursed through you. Could you even consider the possibility? No, of course not, such a thing would cause no end of problems and complications; you weren't even sure if you could survive with the harem as it was. With a child added to the mix? It'd be a nightmare.

And yet, a question simmered in the back of your head, one more dreadful than the prospect of a baby popping up at the worst possible time in your life. A question wondering what if... What would you do if you had a daughter… and she turned out to be a pokegirl?

.

Dex Entry of the day: Dex Entry -- Original