*THIS IS STUPID*
Aug. 12th, 2022 02:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
scarletkilometersa short & silly PLA fic. a few of you who know me on twitter might find Anko's theory very familiar lol.
"Have you wondered if the real reason you were sent back is because you're supposed to, like, create yourself?"
It is a peaceful, quiet evening in the village of Jubilife, and when returning from the training grounds, you had found Anko and Emmet seated at the Wallflower, eagerly motioning for you to join them at their table. There is a pot of tea and an array of candied berries for the table, and the air is cooling with the first hints of autumn. Anko has brought out several of her pokemon to enjoy the evening air, and an especially fluffy Zorua has taken up residence in your brother’s lap, where he rocks comfortably in place and doles out plentiful treats ear scritches. Now, as the onset of dusk paints the clouds a striking shade of orange, your brother pours you another cup of Beni's finest jasmine blend while the savior of Hisui and the finest catcher in the Survey Corps poses you what is, somehow, not the strangest question you've ever heard her ask.
"Do you mean becoming my own grandfather, or something similar? The thought has crossed my mind," You confess. While you have thus far managed to avoid the kind of relations that would lead to that situation, if Arceus or the Lords Sinnoh were intending to hold you hostage in the past until you made a series of highly inadvisable sexual conquests, well. It would not be the strangest thing you’ve discovered about the deities of this region.
"It'd probably be more like great-grandfather for you, but I meant in a more complicated way. Like what if you're not really twins, because you knocked somebody up but it turns out you were only his grandfather--" she jabs a finger at Emmet. Emmet waves. "--and he's actually an only child, so you have to clone yourself in order to fix it--" Across from her, your brother clamps his hands over his mouth and shakes with silent laughter. You have a suspicion that they've been workshopping this theory for a while. “--and then you sent baby-you back in time to your birthday so your parents can adopt you. It'd be Emmet's DNA in the ecto-jelly, so you're still twins biologically, I guess."
"That is--! Okay." You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose. "First of all: assuming any part of this ridiculous theory holds merit, why would I be the one to create my clone? I am no scientist."
"I mean, you're already pretty unstuck from linear time," she says reasonably. "What's a little more going to hurt? Besides, if it's you pushing the buttons there's a pretty obvious incentive to get everything right. A stranger might fuck around and try to give you a third arm or eyeballs on your back or something just because they can."
"More arms would be fun, though," Emmet signs. "Think of how useful that would be!" Two more berries disappear into the Zorua's waiting maw.
"Yeah, but Ingo only has two, so if you go back and add more it'd cause a time paradox," she explains. Emmet nods very seriously while the Zorua licks sugar from his fingertips.
"That brings us to the next problem with your theory: I am currently nearly a century before my own birth. Why would I be sending my infant self even further into the past?"
"Well, I don't think you personally would handle the time-traveling baby distribution. That’s probably someone else’s job. But you’d have to go to the future to do the cloning. You’re sure not going to find the technology here!” she gestures expansively at the wooden buildings surrounding you. She does have a point. The boiler the Professor uses to heat his study space is probably the most complex piece of technology for miles. "So from there, you guys' birthdate would probably be in the past," she finishes, somewhat unnecessarily.
There is a moment of contemplative silence before Emmet contributes: "I suppose someone here could have a cloning machine, if they kept it a secret."
"Ooh, yeah!" Anko's eyes light up. "I mean, we're all here, yeah? And sometimes I find weird shit from the future in the distortions, I'm gonna say the sky's the limit as far as that goes. Who, though? Maybe that's what Rei's been building in his shed," she says with a laugh.
"My money is on Ginter," Emmet replies. "His wagon is full of secrets."
"Yeah! I mean, he had to get that lawn mower from somewhere, right?" Emmet nods, which only encourages her. "He didn't even build it himself, I'll bet. He just found it in a crater somewhere and went "Yep, I can probably sell this." He still hasn't figured out what it does."
"Which of the villagers is most likely to have a secret cloning device is completely irrelevant," you cut in over their howls of laughter, "because I am not a clone. This entire theory is complete nonsense!"
"Don't be so sure, Ingo," Emmet signs, "We use fossil pokemon at home, after all. The technology certainly exists."
"Perhaps, but we would know if one of us had been adopted. Surely our parents would have told us! Surely we would remember if one of us had been found in a smoking crater!"
"You guys don't remember because you were babies," Anko explains. The well, duh remains unspoken and implied, but her tone conveys it well enough. "Your parents never said anything because who would believe it? We sound insane talking about it and that's with all the context. If you have two identical toddlers, why bother explaining that you found one of them in a crater in a picnic park somewhere when the world’s all ready to assume that they’re twins?”
"I suppose technically…No!" You slam your fist onto the table, making everyone jump. "Apologies… but I will not be entertaining this any further. This is absurd. No part of this proposition makes any sense."
"Those are some verrry big words coming from someone who forgot his entire twin brother for several years," Emmet responds, eyes curved with cruel mirth.
You make a sound of incoherent frustration and collapse facedown onto the table. The Zorua wriggles out of your brother's grasp to nibble experimentally at your knuckles, for you must surely be deceased.
Presently, Anko pats your shoulder and makes an attempt to draw you out of your woe. "Cheer up, Ingo, being a clone's not so bad! Mewtwo was a clone and he had a pretty successful career."
"Didn't Mewtwo burn down an island?" You reply.
"It was in the newspapers! That's success!"
Before you can formulate a response to that, Emmet raps on your forehead for your attention. "Hey Ingo," he signs, "if you are a clone, doesn't that technically make me the older brother?"
"That is enough!" You bolt upright, sending the Zorua skittering for the safety of your brother's shoulders. "For the final time, I am not a clone!"
"I dunno, that sounds like something a clone would say," Anko chirps, not even trying to hide her amusement, "if you're really not a clone, there's no need to be this defensive."
"I…Okay." You pinch the bridge of your nose. "If I can somehow prove that I am not a clone, will the two of you finally lay this ridiculous notion to rest?"
"That sounds pretty fair to me. Emmet, what do you think?"
Emmet makes a thoughtful noise before replying. "If you were really cloned in the way Anko describes, then you would not have a belly button. That should prove it!" Anko nods her enthusiastic assent.
"Well!" That is…surprisingly reasonable of them. "That sounds simple enough. However, there should be no need for me to disrobe. Emmet, please inform Anko that I do indeed have a belly button."
"I don't know, Ingo," Emmet replies. He shakes so hard from his silent laughter that he's practically vibrating. "It has been a verrry long time since I have seen you without a shirt. I'm afraid I can't remember."
That is a bald-faced lie. The two of you dressed together that very morning, just as you had every morning this week, just as you had every morning since your reunion in the Hisui region.
“Come on, Ingo!” Anko shouts. “Show us your belly button!”
"You did promise," Emmet adds, as if this situation isn't entirely his fault.
"Show us the belly button!" Anko repeats. "Show us! Show us! Show us!" She and Emmet have begun pounding on the table in time with her words. Your ears burn. People at adjacent tables are beginning to stare. You drop your face into your hands to the sound of their howling laughter, and you know without even looking that the pair of them are affixing you with identical, insufferable grins.
"Have you wondered if the real reason you were sent back is because you're supposed to, like, create yourself?"
It is a peaceful, quiet evening in the village of Jubilife, and when returning from the training grounds, you had found Anko and Emmet seated at the Wallflower, eagerly motioning for you to join them at their table. There is a pot of tea and an array of candied berries for the table, and the air is cooling with the first hints of autumn. Anko has brought out several of her pokemon to enjoy the evening air, and an especially fluffy Zorua has taken up residence in your brother’s lap, where he rocks comfortably in place and doles out plentiful treats ear scritches. Now, as the onset of dusk paints the clouds a striking shade of orange, your brother pours you another cup of Beni's finest jasmine blend while the savior of Hisui and the finest catcher in the Survey Corps poses you what is, somehow, not the strangest question you've ever heard her ask.
"Do you mean becoming my own grandfather, or something similar? The thought has crossed my mind," You confess. While you have thus far managed to avoid the kind of relations that would lead to that situation, if Arceus or the Lords Sinnoh were intending to hold you hostage in the past until you made a series of highly inadvisable sexual conquests, well. It would not be the strangest thing you’ve discovered about the deities of this region.
"It'd probably be more like great-grandfather for you, but I meant in a more complicated way. Like what if you're not really twins, because you knocked somebody up but it turns out you were only his grandfather--" she jabs a finger at Emmet. Emmet waves. "--and he's actually an only child, so you have to clone yourself in order to fix it--" Across from her, your brother clamps his hands over his mouth and shakes with silent laughter. You have a suspicion that they've been workshopping this theory for a while. “--and then you sent baby-you back in time to your birthday so your parents can adopt you. It'd be Emmet's DNA in the ecto-jelly, so you're still twins biologically, I guess."
"That is--! Okay." You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose. "First of all: assuming any part of this ridiculous theory holds merit, why would I be the one to create my clone? I am no scientist."
"I mean, you're already pretty unstuck from linear time," she says reasonably. "What's a little more going to hurt? Besides, if it's you pushing the buttons there's a pretty obvious incentive to get everything right. A stranger might fuck around and try to give you a third arm or eyeballs on your back or something just because they can."
"More arms would be fun, though," Emmet signs. "Think of how useful that would be!" Two more berries disappear into the Zorua's waiting maw.
"Yeah, but Ingo only has two, so if you go back and add more it'd cause a time paradox," she explains. Emmet nods very seriously while the Zorua licks sugar from his fingertips.
"That brings us to the next problem with your theory: I am currently nearly a century before my own birth. Why would I be sending my infant self even further into the past?"
"Well, I don't think you personally would handle the time-traveling baby distribution. That’s probably someone else’s job. But you’d have to go to the future to do the cloning. You’re sure not going to find the technology here!” she gestures expansively at the wooden buildings surrounding you. She does have a point. The boiler the Professor uses to heat his study space is probably the most complex piece of technology for miles. "So from there, you guys' birthdate would probably be in the past," she finishes, somewhat unnecessarily.
There is a moment of contemplative silence before Emmet contributes: "I suppose someone here could have a cloning machine, if they kept it a secret."
"Ooh, yeah!" Anko's eyes light up. "I mean, we're all here, yeah? And sometimes I find weird shit from the future in the distortions, I'm gonna say the sky's the limit as far as that goes. Who, though? Maybe that's what Rei's been building in his shed," she says with a laugh.
"My money is on Ginter," Emmet replies. "His wagon is full of secrets."
"Yeah! I mean, he had to get that lawn mower from somewhere, right?" Emmet nods, which only encourages her. "He didn't even build it himself, I'll bet. He just found it in a crater somewhere and went "Yep, I can probably sell this." He still hasn't figured out what it does."
"Which of the villagers is most likely to have a secret cloning device is completely irrelevant," you cut in over their howls of laughter, "because I am not a clone. This entire theory is complete nonsense!"
"Don't be so sure, Ingo," Emmet signs, "We use fossil pokemon at home, after all. The technology certainly exists."
"Perhaps, but we would know if one of us had been adopted. Surely our parents would have told us! Surely we would remember if one of us had been found in a smoking crater!"
"You guys don't remember because you were babies," Anko explains. The well, duh remains unspoken and implied, but her tone conveys it well enough. "Your parents never said anything because who would believe it? We sound insane talking about it and that's with all the context. If you have two identical toddlers, why bother explaining that you found one of them in a crater in a picnic park somewhere when the world’s all ready to assume that they’re twins?”
"I suppose technically…No!" You slam your fist onto the table, making everyone jump. "Apologies… but I will not be entertaining this any further. This is absurd. No part of this proposition makes any sense."
"Those are some verrry big words coming from someone who forgot his entire twin brother for several years," Emmet responds, eyes curved with cruel mirth.
You make a sound of incoherent frustration and collapse facedown onto the table. The Zorua wriggles out of your brother's grasp to nibble experimentally at your knuckles, for you must surely be deceased.
Presently, Anko pats your shoulder and makes an attempt to draw you out of your woe. "Cheer up, Ingo, being a clone's not so bad! Mewtwo was a clone and he had a pretty successful career."
"Didn't Mewtwo burn down an island?" You reply.
"It was in the newspapers! That's success!"
Before you can formulate a response to that, Emmet raps on your forehead for your attention. "Hey Ingo," he signs, "if you are a clone, doesn't that technically make me the older brother?"
"That is enough!" You bolt upright, sending the Zorua skittering for the safety of your brother's shoulders. "For the final time, I am not a clone!"
"I dunno, that sounds like something a clone would say," Anko chirps, not even trying to hide her amusement, "if you're really not a clone, there's no need to be this defensive."
"I…Okay." You pinch the bridge of your nose. "If I can somehow prove that I am not a clone, will the two of you finally lay this ridiculous notion to rest?"
"That sounds pretty fair to me. Emmet, what do you think?"
Emmet makes a thoughtful noise before replying. "If you were really cloned in the way Anko describes, then you would not have a belly button. That should prove it!" Anko nods her enthusiastic assent.
"Well!" That is…surprisingly reasonable of them. "That sounds simple enough. However, there should be no need for me to disrobe. Emmet, please inform Anko that I do indeed have a belly button."
"I don't know, Ingo," Emmet replies. He shakes so hard from his silent laughter that he's practically vibrating. "It has been a verrry long time since I have seen you without a shirt. I'm afraid I can't remember."
That is a bald-faced lie. The two of you dressed together that very morning, just as you had every morning this week, just as you had every morning since your reunion in the Hisui region.
“Come on, Ingo!” Anko shouts. “Show us your belly button!”
"You did promise," Emmet adds, as if this situation isn't entirely his fault.
"Show us the belly button!" Anko repeats. "Show us! Show us! Show us!" She and Emmet have begun pounding on the table in time with her words. Your ears burn. People at adjacent tables are beginning to stare. You drop your face into your hands to the sound of their howling laughter, and you know without even looking that the pair of them are affixing you with identical, insufferable grins.
