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Standard Disclaimers apply. Written by Micah Hakubi at feynman dot project AT SPAMOHMYGODHELPUSALL gmail dot com. You can guess the drill regarding contact.

The story is mine, the setting is not. We all give thanks to Metroanime daily for putting up with us messing around his in awesome world. Ahmen.

To quote Kerrik Wolf, "You should not read this work if you are under the age of legal consent wherever you reside. This work may or may not contain any and/or all of the following: death, dismemberment, violent acts, implied sex, explicit sex, violent sex, rape, cannibalism, blasphemy (depending on your religion), BDSM, torture, mimes, and just about anything unwholesome that you could consider."

Feedback welcome. I probably need the syntax abuse.

-[***]-

I've had the overall idea for this story for a month or so, but the February 2008 Valentine challenge finally made me sit down and write it all in one go. One of the challenges involved a story concerning Recognition, and while you won't see me fulfilling the other two parts of the challenge, I think this one stands on it's own pretty well. I pounded this story out in two hours of straight writing. If you see any gross grammer abuse, that's probably why.

It's not your typical Recognition story, but that's the entire point. :D

-[***]-

Tamer parlance typically holds that Recognition in dangerous. But... dangerous for whom?

-[***]-

He had heard of Recognition, of course.

He just never expected it to happen to him.

Nemo Corvinus knew that some regarded it as a big deal. As something to, they dare said, aspire too, to search for that one long-lost love of their soul. For some odd reason, it was alot more popular a concept among the female tamers. He recalled that one he knew off and on, Allissa, who was insanely enthusiastic about those cheap paperbacks she'd always pickup when she made it to civilization. He looked at one, once, out of morbid curiosity. The saccharine idealistic fantasy world mixed in with a heady dose of pure female lust had damn well dripped from the pages as he flipped through it, the imaginary fluid staining the ground with a color he fancied was a mix between sickly-sweet pink and blood-red color fresh from a spurting aorta. Recognition was a popular notion in such settings.

It was a bright contrast with the typical attitude that the topic was regarded among the male side of the equation. Recognition was not something that was brought up. When it was, it was typically in hushed tones, referencing some poor bastard that had gotten it unexpectedly and settled down, sans harem. He never understood that part, really, but when he questioned the matter he typically got a surly look in return, as if he was an idiot for questioning a given thing. Male Tamers, apparently, signaled Recognition as something to be feared and avoided at all cost. Granted, it wasn't as if the term had any good associations with Tamers. After all, the greatest threat the world had ever seen had been because of a Tigress that had gotten her love thwarted by a Tamer who Recognized another.

Love, it could be said, did strange things to strange people.

Nemo just hadn't expected to be one of those strange people.

It hit him whenever had hadn't been thinking about anything at all, really. It had been such a simple thing. He was back in civilization, letting muscles and tension unwind from the long spate of travel through the wilderness, thankful to be in someplace where it was some other guy's responsibility to defend. Him and his pokegirls. Not Nemo's. Right now he was thankful to be doing nothing at all, though he had options. At least one Trading Company had an all-call out for Tamer escort - boring, yet reliable work - and he'd heard of a Dark Lady sighting to the west, near a new settlement that might need to be solved. His harem could handle the matter, he thought with a measure of pride and pragmaticism in equal measure. He knew what they were capable of. What they could handle. While he lacked any Kami No Kaze-types in his harem, they were all good, strong girls, most of them third-tier evolutions. They could handle alot.

Then he saw her.

Just a glance, really. Something that caught him out of the corner of his eye, a motion that shouldn't have attracted all the attention it did. He caught her eyes, and it was as if something primal within his brain locked down with a sound that was positively seismic, felt more than heard.

After a moment, he realized he had stopped breathing, and the more intelligent portion of his brain began cataloging the bits and pieces of what he saw. Tatmon, he noted, recognizing the glow of runes even from this distance. Extremely-rare type. Valuable.

Gorgeous, a part of his brain noted, and he found himself with the unusual sensation of his heart in his throat as he simultaneous salivated in that wet, hormonal driven urge of lust even as his stomach screamed out in twisting, uncertain agony. He then saw that she was looking at him, as well, her face etched with a look crossed between astonishment and agony. Her entire body seemed to snap as if pulled at by a leash, and Nemo realized she was getting called away by her tamer. It then clicked her couldn't hear anything, and the long, drawn-out moment snapped, the sounds, sensation, and cacophony of civilization crashed back around him, the sound deafening after the shock-induced moment of sensory deprivation.

He couldn't breath. Thinking was secondary. Nemo thought he whispered something to her, but he wasn't sure. He had to have done something, as she moved backward, away from him, her entire body taunt with pain as if a limb was being violently ripped from her, back to where she was being called by her Tamer.

Later, he would look back at that moment and feel a swell of pride at his harem for following his orders to the letter as they did. At the time, he didn't care. About anything, really. Only well-driven instincts had him pull out his Armsmistress and Cheshire and order them back to the hotel to recover all of his equipment. A part of him felt a twinge of agony at the sight of his Alpha, her red tresses unfurling behind her like some unholy banner of war. The idea of settling down with her had been at the forefront of his thoughts recently, he'd even considered getting her a collar. More pragmatic than anything. She was too valuable, too centric to his harem to loose or trade away. Stupid of him to focus that much on a single lynchpin, but it hadn't happened overnight. She hadn't been his first pokegirl, but she'd been close enough.

And now it seemed he might have to give her up.

He didn't remember much of the rest of that day, really. Later, he tried, worried that something vital had happened in those few hours. But he could only recall where he ended up at the end of that day, equipment and harem shouldered for a quick escape from the city.

Following the Tatmon.

And the Tamer. He was important too, wasn't he?

The Tatmon(Tamer, pay attention to the Tamer, a part of his brain warned him) made camp a few miles outside of the city along one of the less well-worn paths. Nemo took the time to still his heart, try to push aside the rush of adrenaline in his blood that was making his hands shake. To wipe the sweat off, to try, somehow, to salvage the cool and collect portion of his persona, to shove it outward. He couldn't afford to mess this up.

He walked into their camp, cool, calm, collected - and utterly, utterly broken inside, convinced that he was nothing more than a walking shell of a man, hollow and weak, and that everyone could see it. He couldn't grasp the implications of all of this, he couldn't understand why this simple, random chance thing had destroyed his previous world view and replaced it with something so horrendously urgent.

Before, he'd tried to entertain the thought of just walking away. He had to stifle the urge to vomit, stomach rebelling his brain's attempt to grasp for some meager hope that this wasn't as bad as he thought it was.

Damn it all.

"Hey," Nemo called out. He tried to ignore the Tatmon, so desperately, but he saw how the sound of his voice caused her to whip around in a flurry of silver, molten, softly glowing hair, and his heart clenched. She remembered him. Somehow. This wasn't all one-sided. Thank Sukebe's dead, blue, black balls for that.

He was pathetically grateful that his voice didn't crack.

"Hey." The other Tamer didn't even look at him, engrossed in his pokedex as he was.

"I saw you and the Tatmon in the city today," Smooth, you bungling idiot, his brain hissed at him. Worst excuse ever. "I was wondering if you were willing to make a trade."

"No."

Nemo simultaneously tried to get his heart working as his teeth ground together in repressed frustration and a rising tide of anger. "Are you sure?" Calm, stay calm. Don't let him know how desperate you are, for the love of all the gods you care to name. "I've a number of third-tier evolutions I could trade for her."

"They're not worth it. No."

"I could add a monetary amount to the trade, as well." Fuck, Nemo mentally wailed in despair. How obviously desperate can you -be-, you blithering -idiot-...

"Are you not listening to me? I fucking well said no..." The other Tamer trailed off as he finally, finally looked up. Nemo didn't know what it was he saw that made it click, the other Tamer slowly looking between him and the Tatmon before his angry expression dissolved into a rather large grin.

And laughed.

He -laughed-.

"Oh my," he choked out between gasps. "Oh my -fuck-. I can't believe this. You. You fucking well -Recognized- my -Tatmon-. Oh, this is fucking well priceless!"

Nemo tried to unclench his fists, jaw bulging as muscles worked his teeth together. "Yes," he whispered, and he was startled to find his voice raw and hurting. "-Now- will you trade for her?"

"Sure. All of your harem. Now."

What? "What?" Nemo blurted, brain trying to wrap around the demand, and failing. He risked a glance at the Tatmon, and her look of horror likely mirrored the one on his face as she twisted and fidgeted where she stood.

"You heard me. Your entire harem. Now." He burbled out another laugh. "You've got no choice! Oh, this is one sweet fucking day. Come on," he made grabby motions with his hands. "Hand 'em over."

Something deep and ugly curled it's way up Nemo's spine, leaving a dead, cooled chill in it's wake. "That's how it's going to be, huh?" he whispered, half to himself, no longer caring about the Tamer, about anything but the Tatmon.

"That's how it's going to be, yeah." Now, he was looking positively bored, and Nemo had to force down an ugly grin.

"Okay," he whispered. "Okay." Limbs slow and wooden, Nemo reached for his belt and toggled a pokeball release, the red flash of dimensional decompression flaring up to reveal his Armsmistress standing there, confused worry stilling into smooth professionalism as she realized she wasn't alone with her Master.

"Fuck," the other Tamer murmured. "I -love- redheads."

"Cassandra?" Nemo's voice felt half dead to him, as if speaking from the end of a long tunnel.

"Master?" The Armsmisstress's return acknowledgement was calm and cool.

"Kill him."

The response was instantaneous, the directed order reaching somewhere deep within the pokegirl's psyche and tugging at those direct strings that bypassed thought and hesitation. The other Tamer didn't have time to flinch or react as the long end of Cassandra's pointed halberd punched into his mouth, flesh and bone and viscera distorting as the spear-end gouted out the back of his neck. Nemo fancifully thought that the other Tamer, the bastard, the gruesome, gruesome bastard, still had enough thought left in his shock-drugged brain to direct a questioning, disbelieving look of 'Why?' at him, before Cassandra twisted the halberd's haft and the torque reduced the Tamer's head to an arcing spray of blood and gore.

The Tatmon let out a tortured, gut-wrenching sob as her previous Tamer's now headless body collapsed backwards. She dashed forward, and Nemo was suddenly worried that she would attack him. That worry turned fruitless as she instead buried her face against his chest, her body shaking from the strained wails of agony and worry, the entire day's tension released in one momentous furor.

"I'm sorry," the Tatmon choked out. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..."

"It's okay." Hesitantly, as if not believing it, shaking hands reached up and gently stroked through that molten silver hair.

"I love you," she whispered, turning to look up at him with fearful, softly luminescent eyes.

"I love you, too," Nemo whispered back, and they were kissing before his brain had time to acknowledge it, her lips moist and sweet against his as her tongue flicked into his mouth.

"Master?" That voice tore him away reluctantly of the sensation of the Tatmon(-his- Tatmon, he noted, mine, now and forever), the familiarity and worry etched in it's tone catching his attention. Cassandra was looking at him, fidgeting in place as her fingers played over the length of the halberd's haft, a long familiar, nervous habit. "What's... what's going to happen? Now? I mean..." What's going to happen to me? blue eyes near screamed at him, the near five years they'd spent together now seemingly tossed away in the breath of one command.

She loved me enough to murder without hesitation for me, Nemo thought in despair. How could I do that to her...

"No," Nemo blurted the word out before he had time to think, reaching up and running a hand through his hair. "I... give me a moment." Think, you idiot. You're not the smartest Tamer, you're not the strongest, but actually thinking is what's kept you alive -all these years-, now THINK.

"Take them with you," the Tatmon was breathing into his ear, "His harem. He had a Sorceress with teleport. Take them with... with us, all of them, and I'll make sure you tame them until they can't walk straight anymore."

I don't... have to give them up. The thought was a break in the clouds, sunlight streaming through as relief made him want to shake from the pent-up exhaustion and tension disappearing. I don't have to give... ANY of them up.

And Nemo smiled.

"Master?" Cassandra dared not to hope, her voice thready with agony as she imagined what would be done to her. Her, a human killer.

"It's okay," Nemo rasped out with a smile that was honest and strong despite what all the stress had done to his voice. One hand held out to the Armsmistress, she stumbled forward until her armored form was pressed up against her Tamer, Nemo's other arm still wrapped firmly around the Tatmon. "I think... we'll be settling earlier than planned. And I'm getting you a collar."

"Master, I..." Cassandra's composure broken as she began to cry softly, and Nemo felt his heart swell as he felt the Tatmon(I don't even know her name yet! he thought) gently squeeze his middle as if in full agreement.

"Don't worry. It's going to be alright."