Welcome to Gaia! ::

((I imagine Henrietta sounds like shirley))

A moment of silent passed, a cool breeze blowing by. It was cool against Henrietta's face, which was glistened with sweat and one side still slightly smudged with dirt.

"Emi?" her voice broke the silence then. Around them, at least Henrietta's Pokemon were still training in a later to be elaborated upon manner. Henrietta's eyes moved, from the stars, from the tree line, to Eunmi. "Do you really plan to stop in Castelia?"

((Henrietta: I-i do not ;-; ))

But I...

"O-okay," Henrietta said and she managed a small smile.

...don't want to stop seeing you.

"I.. don't know where to start," she said. She looked toward Nacrene. "All of that... it didn't mean anything." She looked toward Eunmi then. "Gorm never came." She had just realized it herself. She felt a pang.

"Th-that was my only lead. I don't know where to start... I don't know how to get Darumi back. E-even if I get stronger, or better, I don't know where to start looking."

Dammit. She fought back tears. Darumi was gone, she was aching all over. She'd taken one step forward with starting this training, but three steps back. One for her promise not to force her pokemon fight, one for giving away her shinai, and one for Gorm not meeting her.

Her will wavered. "Emi, where do I start?" She knew she had to try, but where did she start? What did she do? "I... Don't know what to do."

Eunmi would not get off that lightly. Not with a quick hug, because Henrietta quickly hugged her tightly. She leaned against the other girl, burying her face into her shoulder, in case she did start crying.

"Th-thank you," she said, her voice muffled.

She was happy, or rather, lucky there was someone else there. She wouldn't have even survived her time in the Dreamyard if it hadn't had been for Eunmi. She'd gotten this far only because of the other girl. Salieri was right, it would be bad to turn away her help now. Henrietta was grateful, but she wasn't sure she could ever pay Emi back.

A few seconds passed, Henrietta did not pull away. Finally, she said, "my legs don't wanna work anymore."

"I'm s-"

Rules! Chili's voice sounded in her head. It wasn't a direct quote anymore, she could just envision him scolding her.

"I'll be fine," she lied. She would so not be fine. After a moment she corrected herself, as the pain continued onward. It wasn't like a bruise, muscle pain hurt a lot. Especially with a lot of exercise, one could ache like whoa.

"M-maybe just a little support."

"O-okay," Henrietta said and she took the other girl's arm and used it to support herself. Her own Pokemon remained out of their balls and she only needed to motion for them to follow for them to do such.

Halfway to the center Henrietta would say, "c-can I t-take you up on that offer? F-for a piggy back ride."

"Wow-ee, I've never seen parenting skills like yours."
"Stop it."
"Seriously, that is some killer technique you got there."
"Shut up, Oz."

Kayelyn was asleep, resting. A psychic had applied a mental dampener to allay the effects of trauma; her ordeal would seem like little more than a nightmare. Or at least that was the hope. Psychic manipulation wasn't an exact science. Jacqueline had been reluctant to go through with it, actually, but then again she knew her moral compass wasn't well calibrated.

-She's just a little girl. She doesn't deserve something like that weighing on her-

She remembered the nurses speaking as they checked the girl for injury. The graze on her knee had been mended, treated; it was now wrapped in a white bandage that seemed to emphasize the girl's slight frame. Christ, she was tiny. When Oz entered he marked his presence with a long whistle and Jacqueline felt her stomach sink. Always the critic, that one.

"Hey I'm sorry, princess, I'm just sayin' - I'd envy whatever little tykes you spawn yourself," Oz smoked even now, his hands up in mock defense, a cocky expression on his slender face.
"That'll be the day," Jacqueline said back, her arms folded as she overlooked her niece through the observation window. Her? Children? Not a good combination.

Obviously.

"What are you doing here? Or did you just come to gloat?" Jacqueline looked over her shoulder, her light brown hair swaying across her deep green eyes. She had a marked seriousness to her gaze; all she'd ever known was this job, it was her life; wanting for things was something normal people did; it wasn't for her, not when she had important work to be doing. She saved lives by taking them, risking her own and working in the shadows while being known to the world; a force of terror and justice, keeping civilians in line and safe, showing no mercy to those who broke the law. She was Jacqueline Redgrave, Government Agent and celebrated operative of its Special Forces.

Oz was the same. His personality made him seem unsuited to his role but Jacqueline knew better than anyone how effective he could be. An off-hand, sociopathic approach to the task; she couldn't blame him; maybe it was a coping mechanic, maybe he got off on it. She didn't know or care. It didn't change the fact that nigh every word to pass his lips had a sarcastic vibe to it. And it pissed her off.

"Just figured I'd see for myself: the fruit of Redgrave's legendary loins," he said, leaning against the glass with his forearm and peering in, "Oh, inappropriate, right? Being that he's your cousin and all. And you probably don't want to hear about all the sex he's been having."
"I really don't care," Jacqueline replied. Maybe when Zack was part of the team, then she'd care. Then she'd be annoyed about his priorities. But now?
"C'mon, there must be something you care about, really. You can't go your whole life just reciting 'I don't care I don't care'."

Jacqueline gave him a glance and settled her gaze on the glass; her reflection blurred as Katelyn's form cleared and she watched the little girl lying there, a quiet countenance. It wasn't long ago that this child was screaming for help, for her, and when she was nearly safe all she could do was latch on and cry. It was getting on for six years since the news, Zack on the phone with an awkward voice; something brewing behind the droning banter until he
-by the way, Elizabeth's pregnant-
told her exactly what he was trying to say. And she'd dropped the phone, surprising herself. But in the time it took for her to pick it up, any interest she had waned and she just replied with a is that so and asked if there was anything else. Since then, she hadn't cared. Whenever she thought about it, there was just a big empty space of apathy on the subject. Zack was gone, giving up his job and anything they had to relate to each other, what he did with his life then was his own damn business. Blood was something you spilled, sharing it was meaningless.

And was how she felt until today. When that little girl flung her arms around her, there was a twang of something, a breakage that allowed raw instinct to seep through the cracks. Her life was the orders she took, followed, executed with deadly accuracy. It wasn't something that had room for a five year old girl whom she'd agreed to babysit because Houseman insisted she had time off. But the instinct pulled and it nagged and there was something beginning to stir, a degree of pity she felt for the child. Something telling her to protect and it wasn't an order from a superior. It was an order from herself.

"I don't need a lecture from you, Oswald," Jacqueline said with a frown and Oz freaked out.
"Hey hey hey," he hissed, "Don't say my name like that - the nurses are in earshot, you wanna ruin me?!"
"I wouldn't dream of it. But," Jacqueline cast a glance out the corner of her eye, "If you stick around here I might get clumsy and let something slip."
"Fine, fine, whatever," Oz got the hint, threw his hands up to admit defeat, "Catch ya later, princess."

He left, the dark grey hospital ward doors flapping shut behind him. Jacqueline listened as his footsteps edged into the distance before they died out entirely. Katelyn slept soundly, resting in the world of dreams where her living nightmare couldn't reach. Jacqueline put her fingers to the glass, staring at her killer's hands. Slowly, she balled up a fist, pushed away from the observation window and stepped back. She was being a fool. She'd give the girl back, apologize for the injured knee and that would be the end of it. She wouldn't have to care. It'd be alright. Wouldn't it?

[She said, 'if you want',"] Socant said.

[Obviously, I'm going to. Bastards out there might be stronger than me, that's what that f*****t a** gym taught me. I can't be beaten by monkeys ever again.] Melty had moved off to train then. This left Socant and Frate together.

[So, what about you?] Socant asked.

[She said we don't have to fight for her anymore,] Frate said.

[And you believe that?]

[Of course! She isn't a bad person.]

[So you're actually going to train?]

[You aren't?]

Socant was silent for a moment. Then he said, [I'm going hunting.]

***

Roggenrola, or Frate, had been spending the time he'd have training firing off rocks. Different from throwing them, he was hurling them. With the structure of his body it was a difficult task. Still, he'd gotten a method. Using a foot, he'd kick a rock up and then using the stone like feature on the top of his head it launch the rock.

Once he had method, he just needed practice. For speed, power and accuracy. Power came with practice, it was mostly speed and accuracy. Accuracy first, of course, then came doing the technique rapidly.

He'd worked on accuracy in the Dream Yard, now it was the process of speed. This was split into two factors, first was finding rocks, second was launching them in succession. So, Frate had spent the first of four hours hunting down rocks.

Hard work and perseverance saw him to the end of his goal. Accurately, he could launch between two and five rocks by the end of his training. Three hours of precision and speed. The first two had become easy, second nature, it was when he started on the third, attempting to keep the attack within a small window, that things became difficult.

Still, as his training came to an end, Frate felt satisfied. He took one last look at the tree that had been his target, rocks embedded into it.

***

Melty had an array of moves under his belt. A lot of them were basic moves requiring only to fire them, or to resonate with the soul of the target, as was the case with Night Shade. All in all ghost moves exists on the level of the soul, in most cases, he found, he didn't need to train them specifically outside of combat. Rather, it was during combat that he could gain experience using them properly.

Which left only the other half of his abilities. Melty had slowly gained better control of his fire as the days had passed. Ever since he'd learned Flame Thrower he'd been working to master it. Along the way he'd learned to utilize the manipulation of his flames on other levels, allowing him to utilize moves such as Fire Spin, Will-O-Wisp and Flame Burst.

The Mobile Battery had been the master of movement sustaining alongside form manipulation that came with Sunny Day. The end result was that Melty could sustain the form of Flame Thrower without the need for Smog to act as a burner.

In other words, Melty had gained the ability to use the move without outside methods. This just left him needing to master the power of it. He had everything else down, but it felt as if it was missing its full potential. A power he couldn't yet reach.

He was, however, close. It wasn't as if anything was missing essentially. Except for power. Sustaining the flame, manipulating the flame, creating the flame. Those were all second nature. Now he simply needed something to burn, something to train against, to push his flame against. Resistance to try and overcome.

[How weak is that flame?] asked a Pokemon from behind. Melty had let a brief flare of it fly up for his own amusement. He turned now, to see a Tympole behind him.

[Are you ******** with me?] Melty asked, his one eye open, wax of his candle lifting like a cocked brow.

[You just look weak as s**t, that's all,] Tympole said. It was a water type picking on a fire type.

[You have a problem?] Melty asked. Oh, he was gonna roast this mother-

[Yeah.] Tympole's response was followed by a blast of Bubblebeam. Melty acted quickly, blasting a flame into it. The attacks exploded into steam. Melty grinned.

[You're trying to act big with just that attack?!] Melty shouted.

[Tch!] Tympole prepared to fire again. I can't lose. Not after that kicking b*****d! I won't lose my pride, I won't lose to a fire type!

The attacks met again, strain and concentration shared between the two. Both pushing to overcome the other. Tympole had type advantage, but that was it. Melty's power was overwhelming. Still, he would not budge an inch.

How long had passed? Tympole didn't know. Hours? Days? Years? He felt exhaustion tick away, the duration of their battle stretching to the end of his perception of time. What had happened before? After? The present was it, this battle. It had drained him. His blast began to wane.

[This is the end,] Melty announced.

[No!] cried Tympole. The desperation in his voice a plea.

A plea that was answered.

The power of multiple bubble beams was added to his own. Melty's face was one of concentration and rage. How dare they defy him!? He felt the push, to the edge of his limit. Bubble beam exists in his face, beyond the steam that rose up, blocking out everything. Melty positioning himself awkwardly, as if trying to fight against it, to have footing with his awkward candle shape. The best idea was to set himself diagonally.

[I won't lose!] Melty cried. His own desperate plea would not be met with help, but with power. His will flashed, his soul cried out. It wasn't Aura, it was determination. It was will power. His flames engulfed the bubbles, turning them to steam, and then the Tympole, in a cry of agony, were torched.

And Melty stood, the victor. He chuckled lightly. [I win.]

Then he set forward, in the direction that the Tympole had come.

[Wait...] Tympole asked.

[No,] was Melty's response, and he set alight the broken Tympole. [I have to burn your entire species out of existence now,] he said and he set off, to do just that to this habitat of Tympole.

***

The tree was lined with a webbing. It wasn't anything one would expect, Joltik who had evolved the control of their electricity didn't sit around on petty methods like that. Socant was smarter, he was an assassin in the trees.

Subtle, powerful, a murderer.

Utilizing his four legs from a vantage point, a net high up, obscured by the trees, he managed the webs down below. Tugging at them like a puppeteer. Ever since he'd gotten control of his electricity to the point of enchanting his webbing with it for Electroweb, he'd became a better hunter. He'd become a master at it.

A Pidove landed, one foot touched the web. Subtle, it wouldn't even feel it until it tried to fly away. But it was too late. A crackle, so small and sudden one wouldn't see it. Electroweb flared up at only that point, the electricity coming to life through one held strand. Pidove was down.

Joltik then pulled another web, causing it to fly free from the branch above the Pidove and attach in a loop, catching Pidove by the throat. Then he'd haul the other Pokemon up, ready for dinner.

***

Once training was done, Henrietta would end up, ultimately, carried to Nacrene. Eunmi still seemed full of energy but Henrietta was tired. So, almost without noticing it, she fell asleep on the other girl's back.

Finally, she'd wake up at the Pokemon Center.

"Can I leave my Pokemon here to be healed?" she asked the nurse. The nurse nodded her reply and took them. Amber was a beautiful woman, Henrietta noted, even though she didn't know her name. Nurses had the same clothes, the same hair, all called Joy. You could only tell them apart by their faces and with Amber, something stunning stood out. Natural beauty as opposed to the effort that was clear that other nurses seemed to put in.

"Thank you," Henrietta said and Amber was off. Henrietta then turned to Eunmi. "W-we're staying at the center tonight, r-right?"

((EDIT: I didn't play Sonic Colors, although that song does make training 72% more epic))

“I’m not…I’m not crazy…”

N shook his head when Hitmonlee came into the field. “Such unkind words.” A few days ago, he would not have known what such words meant. But after enough traveling, he was beginning to pick up on this unfamiliar lingo. He knew what was an insult now.

N did not have a cool pose for releasing his pokemon, as he did not have any pokeballs to use. Instead, he held up the hand that wasn’t keeping his hat on his head and snapped his fingers. “Zero.”

From the side of the train that N had emerged came another figure. Walking with a confident gait was another Hitmonlee identical in appearance to Wayne’s, stopping in front of N and making the same stance as Wayne’s Hitmonlee.

The green haired trainer adjusted the brim of his hat, and his eyes became shadowed over by the darkness underneath. For every slight motion that Wayne’s idle Hitmonlee would make, Zero would do her best to mimic it, as if Hitmonlee was looking into a mirror. The Zorua knew that it was a little unnerving for someone else to see.

“Whenever you’re ready,” N said to Wayne. He’d allow the other trainer to take the first move. He wanted to watch as much as he could of Wayne’s technique, and more importantly, his synergy with Hitmonlee.