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Newt the Espeon & Prozac the Joltik of Dollhouse
cameo: Marcus the Umbreon & Smith the Fletchling of Yölento

---

”Watch out for the rubble,” Prozac quips in a low voice from his perch on top of Newton’s head.

/Contrary To The Popular Belief I Am Not Blind,/ Newt thinks back at him snappishly as he hops down from a small mountain of bricks and dust, soundless and graceful. Prozac considers electrocuting him, only a bit, you know, just to put the little shit back to his place, but thinks better of it. They’re both nervous, and if Newt would drop the alien-looking piece of technology he’s holding on to with shaking paws they’d also be fucked. You know. Like the rest of the city.

It hasn’t been the best of mornings, really. Kind of unreal. Waking up to your bedroom wall crumbling down like it was sand and not solid stone isn’t really how Prozac would’ve liked to spend a free morning, and he knows Newt shares the sentiment. It’s been kind of hectic, with what the huge damn statue coming alive and wrecking shit up, but hey. At least they hadn’t been squashed underneath the houses coming down around them.

Newt had nearly wet himself in excitement when the very Chelle of the Researchers had tugged them aside from the crowd and barked out an order to follow her. The Sandshrew engineer had been elbow-deep in some rather terrifyingly complex-looking machine, along with other equally frightened young Pokémon pulled in by one Researcher or another to help out.

Prozac isn’t really one for technical mumbo-jumbo, but he’d sat on top of Newt’s head while the Espeon hovered over Flint’s blueprints, listening to the ground-type’s explanations (which, honestly, had gone right over Prozac’s head). He’s always loved touching Newton while he’s really thinking about something, the thoughts flowing in a beautifully clear yet completely nonlinear manner, most of it gibberish to Prozac yet utterly fascinating to witness.

In the end, because Prozac is an asshole, he’d volunteered them to take the long-distance nodes to the giant who’d still been having a blast (literally) trashing the town by the time the snotty-nosed young geniuses had finally managed to barf together a working signal-jamming machine. It hadn’t been Prozac’s scene – so what? He could still at least try and be useful.

Newt isn’t happy about going out into the field, but what else is new?

Prozac can feel a thread of gut-wrenching fear that he’s pretty sure isn’t his, as they make their way through town, through the skeletal ruins of knocked-down buildings. He nuzzles a bit closer to Newt’s ear, sending a pulse of calm through their telepathic link. Newt’s third eye rolls in its socket to look up at him, a small, scared smile tugging at the Espeon’s lips.

/Do You Have Visual Contact/ he thinks, nervously, after a few minutes of soundless parkouring over the boulders.

“Nah,” Prozac says quietly, narrowing both pairs of his eyes. “But I can feel the ground shaking. It’s close.”

/If It Sees Us…/ Newt doesn’t finish the thought.

“We won’t let it,” the Joltik whispers sternly. “Okay, stop. Around that corner. Be careful as fuck.”

Newt sends an ‘affirmative’ through, slipping quietly into the shadow of a building, surprisingly intact, and slowly turns to peek around the corner.

The giant is there, rumbling to itself, blessedly still. Prozac feels the explosion of dread in his head and is pretty sure not all of it is Newt’s.

‘You have to use Psychic’, he thinks so loudly Newt winces (this mental speech thing only works well for Newt – Prozac’s never gotten the hang of it). ‘No way are we going in there. ‘

/The Nodes Must Be Attached Properly/, Newt protests, clutching said electronic appliances to his furry chest protectively. /I Cannot Float Them Across And Risk Them Falling Off./

The giant rumbles and takes a heavy step. There are other Pokémon there, in a desperate attempt to stop the monster from advancing further. Chelle is there – no doubt waiting to cover for them.

Prozac knows Newt’s right to protest, but that doesn’t stop him from feeling a stab of desperation and anger, an emotion he’s sure he’s projecting because Newt’s ears twitch and droop instantly; the trembling of his paws intensifying.

/I Do Apologize,/ Newt thinks miserably, the eye on his forehead welling up with tears. And, oh shit. Prozac could never live with himself.

So he blurts out, “float me.”

Newt blinks at him.

“I’m not kidding,” Prozac hisses. “Float me and the nodes there and I’ll attach it. You have to be quick, you have to do it now when it has its back turned.”

/I Am Unsure I Have Enough Stamina To Transport You Along With The Technology All That Way,/ Newt thinks, distressed, but Prozac can feel a tinge of curious hope mixed in with Newt’s protests.

“I’m not asking you, I’m telling you.” Prozac hops down on top of the nodes, tied together, glancing back up at his Espeon. He can’t feel Newton’s thoughts anymore without the skin-on-skin contact, but he does pick up on the emotions Newt’s projecting. Dread, worry, apprehension.

But then, after a too-long moment of thoughtful silence, the Espeon, bless his heart, nods.

His third eye flashes a bright white and Prozac immediately feels the tingling of a Psychic attack as the forcefield of energy wraps around him and the node. Newton drops his paws but the machine stays afloat, the Joltik perched on top of it.

“Don’t let him see me,” Prozac says with confidence he really doesn’t feel. Newt nods again, closes his two eyes and lets the third one do it’s thing.

The node moves with a jolt and starts moving quickly through the air. It’s twenty meters to the rampaging giant, who, luckily, is still very much occupied with the groups of Pokémon attempting to battle it. Prozac glances back at Newt nervously. The Espeon is frowning in concentration, paws clenched in fists at his sides, the white glow of his third eye illuminating his face in the shadow of the building he’s tactically still standing behind.

When he looks back, Prozac catches Chelle looking his way, the Reuniclus nodding tightly before turning back to the giant.

We’re doing this, Prozac thinks as the distance between him and the monster’s back grows shorter. We’re making this happen.

That’s when the Regigigas unexpectedly swings his abso-fucking-lutely humongous fist back.

Prozac feels the psychic energy around him flicker out of existence and back, can almost hear Newt’s blood-curling scream in his head, as he squeezes his eyes shut and waits for the impending collision and death by falcon-punching statues – but it never comes. Prozac opens an eye and almost cries out in relief. Regigigas still has his back to him, is still occupied by the teams of Pokémon and Chelle – oh, Chelle; Prozac could kiss the Reuniclus if she weren’t so fucking terrifying - Chelle is there, looking fierce as she promptly hurls a boulder at the giant’s big stupid head, distracting it enough for Newt to slip Prozac past its elbow completely unnoticed.

Prozac sneaks a glance back at his brother – Newt is looking deathly pale and like he can barely stand, but he’s holding up.

The first of the nodes slides against Regigigas’ smooth back without problems; the giant doesn’t even seem to notice, and the thin rope attaching the four machines together Prozac cuts with his pincers.

The rest goes smoothly; Chelle and the other Pokémon hold Regigigas’ attention enough for Newt to discreetly Psychic up the place and allow Prozac to attach the rest of the nodes. Chelle catches his eyes when the last one is firmly in place and nods sharply.

Prozac nods back and ignores the disorienting feeling of being stuck in mid-air as Newt swiftly floats him back. The Espeon slips past the corner of the building and allows Prozac to land safely on his outstretched paws, grips his brother so tightly it almost hurts – the psychic energy flickers out immediately and Newton’s eyes flutter shut, his face screwed up in a pained frown. Their touch-telepathy bond floods back in an instant, hitting both of them like a freight train and filling both their minds with disoriented thoughts and emotions. The force of it along with the strain of the prolonged Psychic attack makes Newton stumble backwards, his third eye rolling back in his head as the fucker goes ahead and faints.

Prozac squeaks indignantly.

Newton unfortunately doesn’t get to formally introduce the back of his head with the pavement, because someone catches him as he flops down like a ragdoll.

“Is he okay?” the stranger asks, and when Prozac dares to open his eyes he finds himself staring at a rather ragged-looking Umbreon with a leg missing who appears slightly alarmed at the sudden lap full of fainted Espeon. Prozac blinks at him.

“Ah – oh, yeah, he’s just being a baby,” he assures after he finds his words. The Umbreon gently lowers Newton down on the ground just as he’s starting to wake up.

“I saw that stunt you pulled,” a Fletchling pipes up from behind the Umbreon. “Pretty cool!”

“I know, right,” Prozac replies automatically, allowing the flying Pokémon a sly grin. The Umbreon’s attention is still on Newt, who opens his third eye with a groan, lifting a paw to rub at the other two. Prozac wriggles out of his grasp and settles down on his chest.

“Wake up, loser,” he barks in his squeaky voice. “You’re no damsel and we’re not in distress anymore.”

/What,/ Newt thinks stupidly. Then he catches a glimpse of the Umbreon hovering on top of him, and his eyes (all three of them) widen.

/This Umbreon Very Aesthetically Pleasing,/ is what Newt thinks next, loudly, and it’s just as well the dark-type still has one paw on Newt’s shoulder so he is certainly able to hear the touch-thought – and judging from the look on his face, he does. Prozac realizes this and bursts out in giggles.

/Shit,/ Newt thinks then, blinking. /I Apologize./

“No need,” the Umbreon says slowly, and Prozac thinks that’s a smile tugging at his lips. Oh, this is golden. Maybe if Newt hooked up with someone he wouldn’t be so insufferable.

“We need to go, Marcus – take care, guys, don’t go fainting too much, it’ll mess your head up!” The Fletchling grins at them, and the Umbreon – Marcus – gives Newt a curt nod before they quickly make their way past the pair.

The Espeon scrambles up and squeezed Prozac to his chest rather painfully, his eyes darting from the Umbreon back across the street to the Regigigas. His thoughts feel scrambled and Prozac winces at the mess that is their telepathic bond.

“Shall we stay and see what happens?” he says then. Newt blinks at him and shakily nods.

---

phew, made it! I really didn't feel like doing a comic so i drew a picture and it grew from there...
this is the Researchers mission with Chelle, with the +bonus of staying incognito. good job guys

Description

Newt the Espeon & Prozac the Joltik of Dollhouse
cameo: Marcus the Umbreon & Smith the Fletchling of Yölento

---

”Watch out for the rubble,” Prozac quips in a low voice from his perch on top of Newton’s head.

/Contrary To The Popular Belief I Am Not Blind,/ Newt thinks back at him snappishly as he hops down from a small mountain of bricks and dust, soundless and graceful. Prozac considers electrocuting him, only a bit, you know, just to put the little shit back to his place, but thinks better of it. They’re both nervous, and if Newt would drop the alien-looking piece of technology he’s holding on to with shaking paws they’d also be fucked. You know. Like the rest of the city.

It hasn’t been the best of mornings, really. Kind of unreal. Waking up to your bedroom wall crumbling down like it was sand and not solid stone isn’t really how Prozac would’ve liked to spend a free morning, and he knows Newt shares the sentiment. It’s been kind of hectic, with what the huge damn statue coming alive and wrecking shit up, but hey. At least they hadn’t been squashed underneath the houses coming down around them.

Newt had nearly wet himself in excitement when the very Chelle of the Researchers had tugged them aside from the crowd and barked out an order to follow her. The Sandshrew engineer had been elbow-deep in some rather terrifyingly complex-looking machine, along with other equally frightened young Pokémon pulled in by one Researcher or another to help out.

Prozac isn’t really one for technical mumbo-jumbo, but he’d sat on top of Newt’s head while the Espeon hovered over Flint’s blueprints, listening to the ground-type’s explanations (which, honestly, had gone right over Prozac’s head). He’s always loved touching Newton while he’s really thinking about something, the thoughts flowing in a beautifully clear yet completely nonlinear manner, most of it gibberish to Prozac yet utterly fascinating to witness.

In the end, because Prozac is an asshole, he’d volunteered them to take the long-distance nodes to the giant who’d still been having a blast (literally) trashing the town by the time the snotty-nosed young geniuses had finally managed to barf together a working signal-jamming machine. It hadn’t been Prozac’s scene – so what? He could still at least try and be useful.

Newt isn’t happy about going out into the field, but what else is new?

Prozac can feel a thread of gut-wrenching fear that he’s pretty sure isn’t his, as they make their way through town, through the skeletal ruins of knocked-down buildings. He nuzzles a bit closer to Newt’s ear, sending a pulse of calm through their telepathic link. Newt’s third eye rolls in its socket to look up at him, a small, scared smile tugging at the Espeon’s lips.

/Do You Have Visual Contact/ he thinks, nervously, after a few minutes of soundless parkouring over the boulders.

“Nah,” Prozac says quietly, narrowing both pairs of his eyes. “But I can feel the ground shaking. It’s close.”

/If It Sees Us…/ Newt doesn’t finish the thought.

“We won’t let it,” the Joltik whispers sternly. “Okay, stop. Around that corner. Be careful as fuck.”

Newt sends an ‘affirmative’ through, slipping quietly into the shadow of a building, surprisingly intact, and slowly turns to peek around the corner.

The giant is there, rumbling to itself, blessedly still. Prozac feels the explosion of dread in his head and is pretty sure not all of it is Newt’s.

‘You have to use Psychic’, he thinks so loudly Newt winces (this mental speech thing only works well for Newt – Prozac’s never gotten the hang of it). ‘No way are we going in there. ‘

/The Nodes Must Be Attached Properly/, Newt protests, clutching said electronic appliances to his furry chest protectively. /I Cannot Float Them Across And Risk Them Falling Off./

The giant rumbles and takes a heavy step. There are other Pokémon there, in a desperate attempt to stop the monster from advancing further. Chelle is there – no doubt waiting to cover for them.

Prozac knows Newt’s right to protest, but that doesn’t stop him from feeling a stab of desperation and anger, an emotion he’s sure he’s projecting because Newt’s ears twitch and droop instantly; the trembling of his paws intensifying.

/I Do Apologize,/ Newt thinks miserably, the eye on his forehead welling up with tears. And, oh shit. Prozac could never live with himself.

So he blurts out, “float me.”

Newt blinks at him.

“I’m not kidding,” Prozac hisses. “Float me and the nodes there and I’ll attach it. You have to be quick, you have to do it now when it has its back turned.”

/I Am Unsure I Have Enough Stamina To Transport You Along With The Technology All That Way,/ Newt thinks, distressed, but Prozac can feel a tinge of curious hope mixed in with Newt’s protests.

“I’m not asking you, I’m telling you.” Prozac hops down on top of the nodes, tied together, glancing back up at his Espeon. He can’t feel Newton’s thoughts anymore without the skin-on-skin contact, but he does pick up on the emotions Newt’s projecting. Dread, worry, apprehension.

But then, after a too-long moment of thoughtful silence, the Espeon, bless his heart, nods.

His third eye flashes a bright white and Prozac immediately feels the tingling of a Psychic attack as the forcefield of energy wraps around him and the node. Newton drops his paws but the machine stays afloat, the Joltik perched on top of it.

“Don’t let him see me,” Prozac says with confidence he really doesn’t feel. Newt nods again, closes his two eyes and lets the third one do it’s thing.

The node moves with a jolt and starts moving quickly through the air. It’s twenty meters to the rampaging giant, who, luckily, is still very much occupied with the groups of Pokémon attempting to battle it. Prozac glances back at Newt nervously. The Espeon is frowning in concentration, paws clenched in fists at his sides, the white glow of his third eye illuminating his face in the shadow of the building he’s tactically still standing behind.

When he looks back, Prozac catches Chelle looking his way, the Reuniclus nodding tightly before turning back to the giant.

We’re doing this, Prozac thinks as the distance between him and the monster’s back grows shorter. We’re making this happen.

That’s when the Regigigas unexpectedly swings his abso-fucking-lutely humongous fist back.

Prozac feels the psychic energy around him flicker out of existence and back, can almost hear Newt’s blood-curling scream in his head, as he squeezes his eyes shut and waits for the impending collision and death by falcon-punching statues – but it never comes. Prozac opens an eye and almost cries out in relief. Regigigas still has his back to him, is still occupied by the teams of Pokémon and Chelle – oh, Chelle; Prozac could kiss the Reuniclus if she weren’t so fucking terrifying - Chelle is there, looking fierce as she promptly hurls a boulder at the giant’s big stupid head, distracting it enough for Newt to slip Prozac past its elbow completely unnoticed.

Prozac sneaks a glance back at his brother – Newt is looking deathly pale and like he can barely stand, but he’s holding up.

The first of the nodes slides against Regigigas’ smooth back without problems; the giant doesn’t even seem to notice, and the thin rope attaching the four machines together Prozac cuts with his pincers.

The rest goes smoothly; Chelle and the other Pokémon hold Regigigas’ attention enough for Newt to discreetly Psychic up the place and allow Prozac to attach the rest of the nodes. Chelle catches his eyes when the last one is firmly in place and nods sharply.

Prozac nods back and ignores the disorienting feeling of being stuck in mid-air as Newt swiftly floats him back. The Espeon slips past the corner of the building and allows Prozac to land safely on his outstretched paws, grips his brother so tightly it almost hurts – the psychic energy flickers out immediately and Newton’s eyes flutter shut, his face screwed up in a pained frown. Their touch-telepathy bond floods back in an instant, hitting both of them like a freight train and filling both their minds with disoriented thoughts and emotions. The force of it along with the strain of the prolonged Psychic attack makes Newton stumble backwards, his third eye rolling back in his head as the fucker goes ahead and faints.

Prozac squeaks indignantly.

Newton unfortunately doesn’t get to formally introduce the back of his head with the pavement, because someone catches him as he flops down like a ragdoll.

“Is he okay?” the stranger asks, and when Prozac dares to open his eyes he finds himself staring at a rather ragged-looking Umbreon with a leg missing who appears slightly alarmed at the sudden lap full of fainted Espeon. Prozac blinks at him.

“Ah – oh, yeah, he’s just being a baby,” he assures after he finds his words. The Umbreon gently lowers Newton down on the ground just as he’s starting to wake up.

“I saw that stunt you pulled,” a Fletchling pipes up from behind the Umbreon. “Pretty cool!”

“I know, right,” Prozac replies automatically, allowing the flying Pokémon a sly grin. The Umbreon’s attention is still on Newt, who opens his third eye with a groan, lifting a paw to rub at the other two. Prozac wriggles out of his grasp and settles down on his chest.

“Wake up, loser,” he barks in his squeaky voice. “You’re no damsel and we’re not in distress anymore.”

/What,/ Newt thinks stupidly. Then he catches a glimpse of the Umbreon hovering on top of him, and his eyes (all three of them) widen.

/This Umbreon Very Aesthetically Pleasing,/ is what Newt thinks next, loudly, and it’s just as well the dark-type still has one paw on Newt’s shoulder so he is certainly able to hear the touch-thought – and judging from the look on his face, he does. Prozac realizes this and bursts out in giggles.

/Shit,/ Newt thinks then, blinking. /I Apologize./

“No need,” the Umbreon says slowly, and Prozac thinks that’s a smile tugging at his lips. Oh, this is golden. Maybe if Newt hooked up with someone he wouldn’t be so insufferable.

“We need to go, Marcus – take care, guys, don’t go fainting too much, it’ll mess your head up!” The Fletchling grins at them, and the Umbreon – Marcus – gives Newt a curt nod before they quickly make their way past the pair.

The Espeon scrambles up and squeezed Prozac to his chest rather painfully, his eyes darting from the Umbreon back across the street to the Regigigas. His thoughts feel scrambled and Prozac winces at the mess that is their telepathic bond.

“Shall we stay and see what happens?” he says then. Newt blinks at him and shakily nods.

---

phew, made it! I really didn't feel like doing a comic so i drew a picture and it grew from there...
this is the Researchers mission with Chelle, with the +bonus of staying incognito. good job guys