((You should totally edit in the summaries to the first post of the summary thread.))
Darumi was focusing dual elements here. Fighting and fire, gathering solar energy as well as attempting to control his inner energy to keep it restrained. Two very difficult things for one of his species to do.
Still, this was a level of mastery that Melty had obtained very early in their journey. He couldn't afford to let himself lose control of his power in the favor of brute force.
The rock cracked under his next chop, and the ground under it broke slightly. He growled in frustration. [Dammit!] Feeling the energies begin to disrupt he closed his eyes to focus. To keep control.
The others were fairing similarly. It was a multi-tasking matter for the majority of them. Only Bastion - who had a small task - seemed to be doing well in regards to progress.
Darumi sighed, trying to find a sort of inner piece. As Frate worked on his angles, and Socant worked on efficiently skittering about, Darumi was stuck trying to figure out exactly how he could find his balance.
From behind he could feel a glare on him. Turning around he noticed Melty. Melty hadn't been able to say anything since his injury but Darumi approached regardless. [How did you do it?]
Melty simply closed his one eye. Darumi stood for a moment before turning away when a small blast of fire erupted. Turning back around, Darumi narrowed his eyes.
[I get it I won't ask for-
And then he noticed Melty's flame. Tiny and chaotic, and then suddenly controlled. A thin flame like one you'd see on a torch. And it grew, the inconsistencies slowly fixing themselves as it did. While it didn't get as big as it could, it was enough to show what Melty meant.
And then the flame broke off into chaos and shrunk back to its normal size and Melty slumped over, his breathing quickening and his eye closing again. For a time he was quiet and Darumi extended a hand out when Melty opened his eye, his flame apparently back under control.
And Darumi could see it in his eye. Melty, who had displayed the best elemental control by far, was struggling to find that same peace. But he had an excuse not to have it.
[I get it,] Darumi said and he returned to the bolder he had previously destroyed. Extending just one finger, he placed it upon the bounder and began to circle his energies. To focus them as his hand moved out, a much smaller sphere of energy collecting in his palm.
His finger lifted and he merely tapped the rock this time. A small amount of energy. Upon the surface formed a crack. Small but present, with no excess damage. Darumi turned to look at Melty again. [Thank you.]
Melty either ignored it or didn't hear it, as he didn't respond.
For Frate it was a similar issue of collecting energy. Boldore were Pokemon that collected it in excess, creating orange shaped glowing rocks. He'd begun to gather this energy at his appendages, blinking out previous growths in order to release it at the ground. Releasing the energy downward was Bulldoze, releasing it at an angle splintered rocks upward. He couldn't control the direction but he could control that it happened.
Here he was sparring with Socant after they'd created the surface. A difficult ground to maneuver upon, perfect for Socant to train. After all the idea of easy time easy gain was not something they had grown used to. Early training was even done in excess to perfect things - Henrietta had since Castelia started with a different approach. Utilizing ideal terrain to force one to work harder. After all, even if they could do it in normal circumstances it would mean nothing if they couldn't do it in ideal ones.
Coated in electricity, Socant skittered along the ruined surface of broken ground in an attempt to strike Frate again and again while coated in electricity. Frate, who had used Iron Defense to prolong the training, was remaining mostly stationed. He utilized his techniques in order to keep Socant at bay, dodging or landing merely glancing blows.
Still, it was a daunting task as Frate's reserve energy - or his excess energy if you will - was being drained and Socant's Wild Charge clearly hurt to use when he landed.
Bastion - meanwhile - required no special treatment or a training partner. He was getting along fine.
Henrietta was standing during her training now. Spots of her tank top were lined with the crystals, giving them a glint in the sun. But how much had she used of it? Her head felt like, her body felt weak. It wasn't the crystals existence that tired her - it was creating them. Falling against a tree, she braced herself. "N-no good," she mumbled before she fell backwards.
Only to be caught by someone.
"Whoa there," said a female voice and Henrietta was helped against the tree, sitting down now. "You okay?"
When Henrietta looked over she noticed a Hispanic girl with long black hair, around her age dressed in shorts and a t-shirt. "Y-yeah, just dizzy."
"Are you going to be okay?" the girl asked and Henrieta nodded.
Though she had no idea really. "I should be."
"I'm guessing we're headed to Nimbasa?" The girl said, shifting to point toward the next city. "Cause that way is kinda far."
"Yeah, Nimbasa City."
***
"The city of entertainment," Emily said as she looked at the screen in front of her.
"I'm sure you'll find lots of that there," The Scientist said as he tweeked with part of the forearm of The Arsenal. "Plenty of places to stage a battle."
"Not going to stage anything. Too many people, too much risk. No team, no back up." Emily had been suiting up. An updated camo gear utilizing an outdated method of stealth. Fifteen years ago these were the primary for aircrafts, but in current day in age bigger units utilized an engine said to manipulate light itself. The life work of a man who claimed he could control light.
Emily's suit utilized a series of micro cameras that could both record and relay information three hundred and sixty degrees around. Too small to hold an engine and stay tightly to the body, bulky as it held equipment underneath the surface. Fragile but efficient.
"Is that so? Is it not because of your similarity to his son that he made you his protige? A hot head, blowing up a Pokemon Center as I recall it?" The Scientist remained in the background, never looking up. His eyes and hands on his work.
"You've done your research. Gossip and conjecture and classified military files." Emily turned to face him as she pulled the gold over her right hand. "Trying to get into my head?"
"What an outdated method." The Scientist looked up, his lips curled into an eternal grin, stretched ear to ear. "If I wanted to get into your head I'd open it up."
Emily, grabbing the helmet of the suit, began walking toward the door. Her hair held up, bunched into a tight bun. "I'm sure you'd love that."
"You won't tell him?" The Scientist asked.
Emily - at the door - turned. "Who?"
"Kero."
***
"Sir?" Suits and shaved heads. There was a policy for this, a distinct way of things. Taught to be a machine, well oiled, functional and efficient. They were not meant to be people, not typically. Contrasted to those with power, authority and security clearance. It was minor things, aesthetic things. Not a nicer suit but hair, clothes that could afford a wrinkle. It was the personality you could see in people versus the personality you could not that could tell you how much higher someone was then you.
The contrast was between Kero and the young man that approached him. Shaved head, military uniform, perfect posture. Little things that built into a picture that said 'machine' not 'person'. Kero turned, facing the soldier and he was saluted. "Jean is waiting on room 2-0-4."
The room was dark, a light overhead. Not one of those overhead ones that swung. They'd had complications in the past. This was a light ten feet up, connected directly to the cieling. The room was wide, dark. Jean-Pierre was in a bolted down chair, bound arms apart, legs closer together.
Light spilled into the room as the door opened. Slow, purposeful. A door controlled not by hands but by cards and codes - meant to not be forced open faster than intended. And then he stepped in - Kero Redgrave.
He carried a bag, old and worn. The old color faded into something else, lines of cut cloth ran along it, poking out of it. Kero stepped forward, as he opened the bag, producing a set of needles bagged and packaged to be held still, but still dirty - with no intention of sanitizing. He also produced a torch and a small spike.
"There are a series of questions-
-that you want answers too. Yes, I know how it goes." Jean-Pierre was grinning. Then he twitched his fingers and instantly one spike buried itself into his hand, pinning it completely to the arm of the chair but he didn't scream, didn't react as one normally would. Instead he laughed.
"Little Redgrave boy, you turned down my offer all those years ago just to turn into a monster anyways."
Kero didn't reply. Instead he removed one of the needles, holding it at length and heating it with the torch. "Tell me about The Arsenal."
"And you've got a family, wonderful thing. Except, they hate you, don't they?" The needle was buried between flesh and nail, stuck deep into the finger but even then Jean-Pierre didn't react to it. Not as if it was pain. Instead he laughed through grit teeth. Only a semblance of a reaction.
"A fully functional exoskeleton, powered by Aura, armed head to toe with weaponry." Kero was merely quoting his superiors, the details he was given about the unit in question.
"But you, you could take it down-
Another needles, heated and buried.
-and then you lock me up, in an environment meant to intimidate. But you and I both know, Redgrave, that it won't work. This room, those tools. You're going to have to try harder, think outside of the box."
By the time Jean-Pierre had finished speaking, there was a needle between every finger tip and nail, buried and deforming, the smell of burnt flesh in the air. Jean-Pierre hadn't reacted, not even a flinch. Grit teeth was hardly anything - hardly a foothold.
"But this isn't what you want to ask, is it, Redgrave? You and I both know what it is you want. The questions you want to ask. The answers you want to know." He was grinning still, old age tiring his face with lines and grays in his hair. But his smile was full of life and energy. To him it was fun, he was alive again.
"Tell me about The Arsenal." Kero gave him no reaction, no sign of hesitation. He produced a second set of needles - to start on the toes.
"The Arsenal is the same thing to you as it is to me. Just a piece of equipment. Weapons and armor."
***
"Yeah, armor." Henrietta, with one arm wrapped over the girl's shoulder, was speaking. There was a distinct hesitance with the way she spoke. Her head lowered but her eyes raised, looking at the girl with a strange mix of exhaustion and hesitance.
"And you bought it that way or made it?" the girl asked, referring to the crystal that lined itself within Henrietta's clothing. Just one small spot - over the heart.
"I.." Henrietta considered her words then. A girl she hardly knew helping her out - not unlike what had happened before. Throwing information at someone you couldn't trust wasn't a good idea and - since yesterday - the list of people she could trust had fallen to a good half a dozen.
"You?" the girl made an attempt to carry Henrietta on, as she'd been too quiet too long.
"Bought it this way."
"Cool. Where at?" A question that dug deeper into something that Henrietta had wanted to avoid. She'd thought the answer would put distance, but it'd turned into the second string of something that could easily turn into a risky web of lies.
"A speciality store in Nimbasa. In a mall there." The same hesitance in her words, pauses that shouldn't have been there earned her a strange look, a questioning one.
The girl, who didn't appear to get any sort of vibe that she shouldn't push further, did. "And what's the name of the store?"
And then it popped into Henrietta's head. Instantly, but that didn't stop her from hesitating again. Rather, the quickness of it had caused her to pause anyways. Still, she answered this time as well. "The Knight."
***
"In shining armor." Amber twirled the knife between her fingers. A trick she'd learned - skillful but not useful. Merely for show. She approached the man, barely alive, with a look of contempt only shown on one side of her face - as the other was horribly scarred from burns not quite treated properly.
"What are you talking about?" the man struggled to speak. A survivor of a massacre, questioned on the whereabouts of the devil he didn't even know existed. His clothes had been taken from him, but he was not clad in just flesh - there was blood. Coating him like skin tight clothing, drying into scabs, coagulating, and running freely. Old and fresh wounds littering what would soon be a corpse.
"The man who she corrupted. A pure man, Metatron himself would have honored such a noble man." Amber did not take his ignorance passively as she cut another wound across his chest. Tracing one pectoral muscle with the knife, digging it in just enough to let it bleed.
And he winced and his eyes shut. Pain stacked upon pain, but he didn't get used to it. The youth of his face had brought her to him. His naive following took her pity and his lack of tolerance to pain took her mercy. The mercy of the vengeful angel upon the innocent demon. Too pure to hate, too corrupt to release.
"My angel," she spoke with an obsessive tone. One of a fanatical priest or a jealous lover. Passion lined with anger. She drew herself close to him, steadying herself with the knife as it plunged into him and kissing his forehead. "God will forgive you of your ignorance, my child." A soft whisper, motherly and soothing to those who had not been carved up. "And you will be free to experience paradise, for I have cut away all of your sins and let the corruption of the demon drain from your body. Your soul, no longer corrupted, will be released from your body unharmed by the Demon."
The man, who could do nothing but react to what she did, was tense and bleeding. His breathing heavy and fast, as the pressure of weight on the knife seemed to try and dig it further. The hilt on his thigh pressed in, forcing blood up and - if he'd ever heal - it would bruise around the injury. But he could tell, he would not be healing or escaping here. Not alive. It was merely drawing out the moments to hold on to life further. Report something, tell someone. He'd already called for help but it hadn't come and his vocal cords had been damaged in a violent retaliation to his efforts.
"But I must go now, my child. My angel awaits my saving." She drew back, weight shifting to her legs as she pulled the knife out of his thigh and pressed it to his arm. The bloodflow increased with adrenaline - a feeling that had dulled and returned a lot in the last couple of hours.
"Who, who is your angel? What's his name?" The man spoke to draw out the seconds. A little more, he had told himself since this had begun, and he'd be able to tell someone - anyone. It was all about having hope. Faith in a Government that would not abandon him.
Amber's head tilted, the beautiful half of her face facing him as the scarred half hid partly into the shadows. The expression which only existed on one half of her face looked curious and confused. As if he were meant to already know this.
"Lawrence Goldberg."
***
Goldberg could feel it. The redness of his skin from the sunburn that ran the length of his arms on one side. His hair, long and wild, along with sungalsses helped to create a makeshift shade over his face but his collar was no better than his arms.
The price of driving a boat for the entire day. It was entirely his fault, you see, as he'd made sure to stop for some fishing time - a pause that lasted long enough to fish but not long enough to have the sense for some sun screen.
Finally, though, they were docking in Nimbasa Port. Not a big luxurious port like Castelia, but it was there - several miles from the city on Route 5 near the bridge that lead toward Driftveil.
"Hey!" Goldberg's voice boomed as he stopped the boat at the docks and went toward the stairs. "We're here, gotta start makin' tracks so we can get to Nimbasa before tomorrow."
***
"What's tomorrow?" Henrietta, resting upon her door, asked the girl.
"Only one of the biggest concerts of the year! Favorite singers gonna be there - starting her big tour," the girl replied. "You sure you don't need help inside?"
Henrietta shook her head. "N-no, I'll be fine. Thank you." Her words were still drawn out in hesitation. She'd considered them, but that was mostly the problem. Considering lies and truths and digging for possible information if this was someone she couldn't trust. All of that thought put into words meant that they didn't flow, not in any confident or trustworthy way.
"Don't push yourself too much. Gotta have fun on a journey. Else there's no point in it." The girl pointed toward the Ferris wheel visible in the distance. "Like that, rides and overpriced food. There's the stadiums, things like that. In every city - if you don't explore all of it then you might as well just stay home."
"What about badges and training?" Henrietta asked.
The girl smiled, one almost quiet breath of stifled laughter escaping her nose. "I only do that frequently enough to avoid them putting a hold on my trainer I.D. But come on, the journey is all about finding yourself. What kind of person you are. I mean, if you want to spend your life training and working hard at the expense of your health then that's cool but then that's all you are, girl." Body language and expression moved with her. Not that she talked with her hand, but with her head, her face, her voice. Her lips curled, her eyes moved, bones and structure shifting with shifts of her head, in her voice, her pitch and tone - though not sporadically or oddly - in a way that expressed what she was saying actively upon her face. To sum of it was - she was lively.
"Y-yeah." Some things were more important then that, though. Henrietta was possibly about to dive into something that you just could not turn back from.
"Gotta have fun, totally worth it to live. I mean, I know people come with their Pokemon meaning to be Pokemon Masters and train and be the best and famous and all of that jazz and that's really cool. But you can't earn respect by pushing them or yourself too hard. Can't earn happiness that way. Not just about you enjoying the adventure - you gotta enjoy it too." The girl, who carried just one pokeball on her belt, spoke as if she'd been doing this for a while, slowly easing her way along on the high of the adventure.
Henrietta could only nod in listen. She had nothing to interject with and was too tired to do so anyways. Hand upon the door knob, she pulled herself up and the girl extended a hand. "Azucena, by the way."
"Henrietta." She took the hand and there was a brief shake between smooth hands and soft grips.
"Nice to meet ya, Henrietta. Remember, don't strain yourself too much."
Henrietta nodded and made her way inside as Azucena departed.
"Mom? Dad?" One hand against the wall held her up as she moved toward the stairs. She took notice of her parents in the kitchen, father on the phone. "I'm going to have some friends over, is that okay?"
"What?" Her mom snapped, her voice lower than normal.
"Wait." Her Father placed an arm in front of his wife and he looked at Henrietta. "Friends?"
Henrietta nodded twice, the first a half attempt full of hesitance, the second a full curt nod.
"On today of all days." Her Mother still looked angry.
"Honey." He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her so their backs faced Henrietta. They whispered, he was calm and she was snappy.
"Fine," she finally said, louder than a whisper. She turned her head to look at Henrietta and her Father sighed and did the same.
"Just don't make too much noise, please, Henrietta."
Henrietta nodded and went on her way upstairs - to rest while she waited on the others to arrive.
((And that was my second attempt at fluid transition between scenes. Next time I work on individualized narrative. Also, people can/should start arriving at Henrietta's))
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