Inside the sterile, fluorescent-lit aisles of the Pewter City Poké Mart, Angel stands as a breathtaking anomaly. Her beauty is so ethereal that it seems to silence the hum of the cooling units and the chatter of trainers.
Angel possesses a complexion so pale and flawless she appears carved from the winter's first snowfall. Her features are defined by a monochromatic, ghostly elegance
Long, pin-straight hair the color of fresh snow cascades down her back, matched perfectly by her white eyelashes and eyebrows.
Her silver irises house pupils uniquely shaped like intricate snowflakes. As the overhead Mart lights catch them, they reflect a mesmerizing, supernatural glow that draws the gaze of everyone in the store
Despite the heavy atmosphere, she moves with a light, airy grace, focused entirely on the shelves of Berries, Potions, and ingredients needed to care for her ailing mother.
Floating beside her is a Koffing, a Pokémon typically synonymous with the toxic smog of Team Rocket's industrial schemes. In the Kanto region, its purple, cratered skin and skull-and-crossbones marking usually signal danger and villainy.
While the Koffing looks inherently intimidating, it is currently behaving like a smitten puppy. It bobbles and twirls in the air, emitting soft puffs of gas as it "dances" around Angel, begging for her touch.
To the shock of the onlookers and the speechless shop clerk, the terrifying Poison-type is completely docile, sticking to Angel like glue as if she were its true North Star.
The air in the Poké Mart is thick with tension that Angel simply does not feel.
Trainers and shoppers stand frozen, unable to look away from the contrast of the "monster" and the "angel." The clerk, who usually enforces a "Pokémon in balls" policy for such disruptive species, finds his voice trapped in his throat, captivated by her presence.
Angel remains blissfully unaware of the stares. She leans in to whisper to the Koffing, asking for its "opinion" on which premium grains to buy for the week's breakfast, brunch and lunch.
With a soft smile, she asks the dancing Pokémon, "What do you think Odin would like for breakfast?" She speaks of Odin—her secret Team Rocket Grunt companion—with a warmth that suggests she sees only the heart of the "scary" Pokémon and the kindness of its master, entirely blind to the dark reputation they carry in the world outside.
Or perhaps not entirely blind. For she is very well aware of how "They and Koffing" are perceived. But she reached a blissful state of no longer caring about any of that anymore. Now only Odin, Poopie, and her 2 remaining Family matters.
As Angel drifts between the shelves of the Pewter City Poké Mart, she treats the floating gas-bag like a pampered lapdog, completely ignoring the way the toxic craters on its skin leak faint wisps of purple smoke
Angel holds up two different bags of Pokémon Crunchies, her silver eyes shimmering under the fluorescent lights. "Now, look at these, Poopie," she says in a voice like velvet. "This one has extra vitamins for your gasses, but the other one has those spicy dried Berries That i think you would love. Now which one is better for a growing boy?"
The Koffing, usually a symbol of Team Rocket's grime, does a joyful 360-degree flip in the air. He bumps his rounded, cratered head against her hand, letting out a happy, wheezing "Koff-ing!" as he nudges the spicy bag.
"Oh, you have such a sophisticated palate, Poopie! Such a smart boy," she giggles, tossing the snacks into her basket. She reaches out and begins Scratching the underside of his chin, right near the skull-and-crossbones marking that usually terrifies children. Koffing's eyes squeeze shut in pure bliss; he tilts his head back, vibrating with a low, rumbling purr that sounds like a bubbling cauldron, but feels, to Angel, like a contented kitten. So much so, that Angel decided to throw the Pokémon crunchies in as well.
Her expression softens into something more serious as they reach the medicine aisle. "We can't forget the Potion-grade herbs for Mother," she whispers, her snowflake pupils glowing as she scans the labels. "I remember mom said to be careful with the dosage. It has to be gentle, right? Like you? Poopie."
She turns to the Koffing, who is currently "dancing" by bobbing up and down in a rhythmic, goofy motion. "You're so brave, Poopie, staying so calm while we look for these boring things. You deserve the world's biggest treat when we get back to Odin."
As they continued to search, Angel glances at a certain Heal Powder and Energy Powder and a Bottle of Revival Herb, tucked neatly on the shelves. "Although a bit expensive, these would surely help Mom, Right? Poopie?"
Koffing completely high on Love and Attention, simply utters "Koff" while not having a single clue as to what these Powders even do.
So these get added to the cart as well.
She continues to walk, searching the shelves for anything that might be good, completely oblivious to the fact that her charm has utterly bewitched everyone in the Pewter City Poké Mart, transforming a feared poison type into a dancing, playful pet.
As Angel maneuvers deeper into the Poké Mart, she reaches the specialty food section, her silver eyes lighting up at the variety. She begins loading her cart with a feast: jars of Oran Berry jam, bottles of creamy Moomoo Milk, and heartier fare like Torchic nuggets, Tauros beef, Spoink ribs, and fresh Exeggcute salad and many more.
With every heavy item she adds, the cart groans under the weight. Seeing her struggle, the menacing Koffing—whom she affectionately calls "Poopie"—rushes to help. He floats low, using his spherical body to nudge the cart forward, huffing little puffs of smoke as he tries to take the strain off her.
Koffing vibrates with joy, his eyes squinting shut in pure bliss as Angel showers him with pampered compliments. Unable to resist his "puppy-like" charm, Angel reaches out and scoops the large, hovering Pokémon right out of the air.
She cradles the purple, cratered sphere in her arms like a newborn baby, oblivious to how heavy or "dangerous" he is. Poopie absolutely loves it; he settles into her embrace, nuzzling against her snow-white hair and letting out a contented, bubbly sigh.
The rest of the Poké Mart is in a state of absolute shock. The sight of this ethereal, snow-white girl Cradling A literal Gas-Bomb like a precious infant is so surreal that the shop clerk actually drops the scanner he was holding.
Angel glides toward the checkout counter with the grace of a swan, still cradling the heavy, cratered "Poopie" in one arm while she begins to unload her cart with the other. Every movement is fluid and elegant, her snow-white hair swaying like a silk curtain
The shop clerk watches her approach, his heart hammering against his ribs. Just moments ago, he had been rehearsing a stern lecture about "dangerous Poison-types" and the strict Poké Mart policy regarding Pokémon associated with Team Rocket. But as she stands before him, her Silver Snowflake eyes meeting his, his resolve vanishes. He feels like a villain for even thinking about separating her from her "puppy." In the presence of her haunting, ethereal beauty, his rules feel petty and small; it's as if the laws of the world simply don't apply to a girl who looks like she was carved from winter moonlight.
Angel remains a "ghost" in the market—physically present, yet mentally miles away in her own innocent world. She carefully places the Tauros beef and Moomoo Milk on the counter, occasionally pausing to scratch Poopie under his chin.
"You've been such a brave, patient boy, Poopie," she whispers, nuzzling her cheek against his purple, gas-filled skin. "Odin will be so proud of how well you behaved." She paused after she said that.. "or maybe not".
The clerk's hands shake as he begins to scan the items. The "beep" of the scanner is the only sound in the sudden, heavy silence of the store. He clears his throat, desperate to say something—anything—to catch the attention of this snow-white apparition.
"T-that's... quite a lot of groceries," he stammers, his face flushing a deep red. "Are you... uh, planning a big celebration? Or is the, um, 'Poopie' just a very hungry eater?"
He tries to look brave, but his eyes keep darting nervously between Angel's mesmerizing face and the Menacing Koffing that is currently closing its eyes in a state of pampered bliss, completely ruining its reputation as a terrifying Pokémon.
Angel's silver eyes drift to the rack behind the clerk, landing on the Pokémon Guide Book: All Type-Chart, Weaknesses and Strengths. The cover is adorned with the colorful icons of all sixteen types—symbols of a world she is still learning to navigate.
"Could you add that book for me, please?" she asks, her voice soft and melodic.
The clerk, now a total captive to her beauty, moves with a speed he's never shown on the clock. He snatches the book and scans it in a heartbeat, his only desire to please the snow-white "ghost" standing before him. After the transaction is finalized, Angel looks at the mountain of heavy bags filled with food, medicine, snacks, and drinks. A small, troubled frown touches her pale lips; the walk back to the slums is long, and the weight is daunting.
The clerk aches to offer his help, but the "Open" sign on the door holds him hostage to his shift. Instead, a towering, buff man with the leather-clad look of a Fuchsia City biker steps forward. His eyes aren't filled with the innocent awe of the others; they hold a dark, predatory intent. He offers to carry her bags and "escort" her home, his grin far too wide to be friendly.
Angel doesn't flinch. She maintains that haunting, graceful smile—a mask of pure innocence that feels almost chilling in its perfection.
"That is so kind of you," she says, her voice as sweet as honey. "Thank you for looking after me and my things."
As she hands him the heavy bags, she continues to cradle Poopie in her arms. Hidden from the biker's view, her fingers tap a rhythmic, silent signal against the Koffing's side. The Pokémon's puppy-like demeanor doesn't change, but his yellow eyes sharpen. He is a Poison-type, a weapon of Team Rocket, and he is ready to turn the air into a toxic nightmare the moment she gives the word.
As they exit the Mart, the door chimes, leaving a heavy silence behind. The clerk clicks his tongue, his stomach churning with guilt and helplessness.
"Was she even real?" a trainer whispers, breaking the spell.
"A ghost girl in the market..."
"Bro that was a Ghost in the market"
"Just shut up bro, it's just a girl. Never seen one before?"
" but have you ever seen a girl like that? I think not!"
"No..."
"That biker... she's in trouble," another adds, though no one moves to follow.
"But did you see that Koffing? I've never seen a Poison-type act like that. It was like she had it under a spell."
~X~
The deeper they sink into the shadows of the slums, the more the atmosphere shifts. The crumbling buildings creating a unsettling shadow. but Angel moves through the decay like a shimmering, silver-eyed phantom. She never stops smiling—that perfect, haunting curve of her lips that feels more like a porcelain mask than a human expression.
The biker is on cloud nine. He carries her heavy bags like a prize, his chest puffed out as he regales her with tales of his "bravery" on the Cycling Road, bragging about the Pokémon he's crushed and the trainers he's intimidated. To him, this is the ultimate score: a girl so stunning she doesn't seem real, practically begging for his protection.
"Oh, you're so brave," Angel coos, her voice echoing softly against the damp alley walls. She leans in slightly, her snow-white hair brushing against his leather sleeve. "A weak girl like me is just so easily frightened in a place like this. Please... make sure you protect me and Poopie well on the way to my house."
The biker's heart races. He's already imagining the "reward" waiting for him at the end of this walk. He looks down at her—so small, so pale, so fragile—and his predatory instincts flare. But for a split second, a cold shiver runs down his spine. He catches a glimpse of her Snowflake pupils reflecting whatever bright light the sun is casting, glowing with that mesmerizing, otherworldly light. For a heartbeat, his gut screams at him that he isn't the hunter in this scenario—he's the prey.
But then he looks at her curves and her delicate face again, and he scoffs at his own fear. She's just a girl, he thinks. A beautiful, ditzy girl with a weird pet.
Meanwhile, in her arms, Poopie has stopped dancing, Koffing is perfectly still, his yellow eyes fixed on the biker's throat. He feels the rhythm of Angel's fingers tapping against his skin—the silent countdown to a disaster the biker is too arrogant to see coming.
"We're almost there," Angel whispers, her smile widening just a fraction, making her look more like a haunting spirit than ever. "Just around this dark corner..."
...
The shadows of the alleyway swallowed them whole, the air turning cold and stagnant. Angel stopped, turning to the biker with wide, silver eyes that shimmered with a feigned terror. She moved into his space, pressing her soft chest against his leather jacket, her small hands trembling against his arms.
"I'm scared of the dark," she whimpered, her voice a fragile thread of silk.
The biker, his heart hammering with a rush of pure dopamine, felt like a king. He pulled her closer, his hands sliding down with predatory entitlement to squeeze her firmly. Angel felt a wave of cold, boiling disgust surge through her, but her face remained a masterpiece of innocence. She looked up at him with a seductive, shy gaze that promised everything.
"Not here... at least not yet," she whispered, her voice like red velvet. She reached for the hovering Poopie, pulling the toxic sphere toward them. "But maybe... if you make friends with my cute Poopie... I might give you what you want."
The biker grunted, his frustration warring with the intoxicating spell of her beauty. He watched as Angel raised the Koffing toward the sky, playing with him like a doting mother.
"Ahhhhhhhhh," she cooed, a long, childlike sound that seemed to dance in the air ad she spinned with Poopie high up in the air. She then placed the heavy, cratered Pokémon into the biker's rough hands. "Now you do it. It's like he's our own little baby."
Thinking her a "crazy bitch" but too far gone in his own lust to care, the biker decided to play along. He Neatly placed the heavy bag he was carrying on the ground agains't a wall. Then He hoisted the Koffing high above his head, opening his mouth wide to mimic her.
"Ahhhhhhhhh!" he bellowed, his throat exposed, his lungs filled with air.
In that exact heartbeat, the light in Angel's eyes died. Her voice transformed—no longer sweet, but cold, mechanical, and haunting.
"Poison Gas."
Poopie didn't hesitate. Having the command on speed dial, he detonated a concentrated blast of thick, purple toxicity directly into the biker's open mouth. The gas roared down his throat, filling his lungs and stomach before he could even register the shift in Angel's expression.
The effect was instantaneous and horrific. The biker's eyes bulged as the poison rotted him from the inside out. He collapsed, his body hitting the dirt in violent, rhythmic convulsions. He tried to scream, to beg, to let out one last sound of agony, but his vocal cords had already been dissolved by the acrid fumes. His skin turned a sickly, bruised purple, his internal organs collapsing under the chemical assault.
Angel stood perfectly still, her snow-white hair undisturbed, watching with a graceful, unwavering smile as his twitching slowed, his life fading into the filth of the slums until he was nothing more than a silent, bloated corpse.
Angel stands over the cooling corpse, her expression shifting instantly. The seductive, fragile mask she wore moments ago shatters, replaced by a cold, mechanical detachment. Her silver eyes no longer glow with warmth; instead, they reflect the dim, sickly light of the alley like polished mirrors. She looks down at the purple, bloated remains of the man who dared to touch her, her face as still and beautiful as a marble statue.
"Disgusting," she whispers, her voice devoid of any emotion. She reaches down and picks up Poopie, who floats back into her arms, vibrating with a dark, satisfied energy. He isn't acting like a puppy anymore; his yellow eyes are sharp, and a thin, acrid trail of purple smoke leaks from his craters.
She takes a small silk handkerchief from her pocket and meticulously wipes the spot on her chest where the biker had placed his hands, her movements precise and graceful. Once she is satisfied, she drops the cloth onto the dead man's face.
"Good boy, Poopie," she murmurs, her voice returning to that soft, velvet tone, though the warmth doesn't reach her eyes. "You did exactly as you were told. I'm proud of you.. you kept me safe, and because of you i had the courage to be strong."
Koffing wanting to act like a puppy again, immediately stopped himself. He can see it, Angel isn't feeling well.. she is trying to be strong, but this obviously isn't like her.. the feeling of her first kill might have been more the she bargained for.
She looks at the groceries bags on the ground. 'She needs to get these home' she thought to herself.
The slums are dangerous, but as she stands there in her Snow-white Purity next to a fresh corpse and a lethal Poison-type, it is clear that she is the most dangerous thing in the shadows.
Unbeknownst to both of them. a low whistle echoes from the entrance of the alley. A shadow detaches itself from the brick wall—a man dressed in the dark, tactical uniform of a Team Rocket Grunt.
The man Blitzed Away as if he had just seen a ghost. Not even daring to look back. And immediately crossed off this particular location from his visit/operating zone.
He would never come here again.
Angel picked up the heavy groceries bags pushed herself to safely reach home.
Koffing watching this, placed his body beneath the grocery bag and pushed himself up
Removing lots of the heavy weight.
"Thank you.. Poopie.. you're the best"
"Koff-Koffing"
As they walked towards home. Angel had a sad expression on her face. "Poopie.. do you think Odin's influence and presence in my life is a bit too heavy for me?" She said with a dejected voice.
Koffing not knowing how to comfort his Snow princess, didn't know what to do so he just remained quiet.. better than fucking things up.
Angel noticing his silence, didn't mind. She can't expect a Pokémon to suddenly talk to her, so she didn't take it to heart.
With a shaking voice, she continued. "I thought I would be fine after killing someone" she paused, before continuing "I was wrong.. I feel horrible." Her voice shaking as she sheds a single tear.
"I thought I would be ready.. and Odin made it sound so exciting and effortless I thought.. I thought.. i-... I thought I could do it too and laugh about it just like him" her voice breaking even more, tears now pouring.
"But now look at me... I'm useless"
"Koff.. Koffing..."
"No no its okay, Poopie. I'm fine, I'll be okay.
I went through with all of this because I was afraid to cause a commotion. At the Poké Mart." She said as her other hand wipes her tears.
" I know I look weird.. my skin is pale.. my hair down to my eyebrows and eyelashes are all completely albino. My pupils are weird.. people always treat me differently.. I'm bound to cause a commotion everywhere I go.. but with you on my side I felt more confident and strong." She finally left a smile before her expression quickly turned grim again.
"But when I saw that biker guy and the way he looked at me.. I knew that if I refused him.. he wasn't going to let me off easily.. he would definitely cause a commotion. And to defend myself I'll have to fight with you"
She looked one more time at Koffing before continuing.
"While I'm not afraid of fighting. I don't know how strong he is. What pokemon he has. Or if he was people watching him from the shadows... it felt like if I refused him, the situation would of gotten so big. Odin might have had to get involved.. which will expose his connection with me and everyone will find out that your a Team Rocket's Koffing and not my cute poopie" her voice cracking and soft as if at any moment she might break.
She cried once more.. "so I had to kill him"
After that, the two walked in silence as they finally reached home.
~X~
The suns heat at its peak, as it's already noon.
'So much for breakfast' Angel thought.
She quickly composed herself and opened the door.
"I'm Home!!" She said with an Angelic smile and the voice of an angel.