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Route 10 – Pillar Field

The field of tower sized pillars on Route 10 was devoid of civilians, having been shooed out by police blockades at the north and south borders. On the previous night, three meteors had landed there, attracting the curious. On the pretense that there was a crime scene being investigated, no one without proper authority was to enter, bumming out a lot of people.

The meteors were precisely why Team Flare had set up fake police blockades to claim Route 10’s fallen treasures for themselves. Flare Grunts had been split into three teams, scouring the drop sites and their surroundings for what their boss needed. Each one had been given a map, which detailed specific danger zones they were advised not to enter.

Flare Scientist Bryony, the one with green hair, sat at a makeshift lab at the center with two personal assistants. The lab was a table with a few beakers, a dish, a laptop and some kind of scanner. Bryony was busy pouring a solvent onto a rugged, nearly spherical chunk of meteorite while the assistants took notes.

“How’s the science project coming, mate?” called the Flare Admin sitting against a pillar behind them in an accent native to Orre (re: Australian). Skarada wore a long red coat open on his bare chest, with brown pants and boots befitting a pirate more than anyone from Team Flare. A grey beanie sat snugly on the back of his head, and despite the heat he didn’t look bothered. “Not tryin’ to be out here all day, kickin’ it with rocks.” The novelty of the meteor shower was wearing thin for him. It hadn’t stopped since last night, and the sunny blue sky was still streaked in shooting stars, though with less frequency. Even this cosmic phenomenon couldn’t make sitting and waiting less dull.

“If you could only comprehend what we’re on the verge of here,” Bryony answered snidely. “I don’t need you distracting me. Guard dogs aren’t supposed to talk.”
“I’m the bark and the bite,” Ska quipped cheerfully, brushing with one finger the long lock of hair that covered his left eye entirely. “A dog with only one ain’t a dog at all. Quit being so up yourself.”
She turned up her nose. “That’s no way to speak to your boss.”
“Hmph.” Ska cleaned his ear with a pinky. “You mean business partner. No one’s my boss but me.”

“Brawwwk, Up yourself! Up yourself!” squawked a Murkrow from above, who swooped down for a smooth landing onto Ska’s shoulder. A well trained Murkrow could mimic bits of speech. It was a step below full English, but it was something.

“Keasbey, have you seen Goldberg?” The bird shook his head and Ska wrinkled his nose. “Hmph. Guess I’m stuck in this wasteland til we can switch out, yeah? Better waitin' for him than for the other idiot. Who throws a rave in a cave, anyway?”
“This wasteland holds the next step in scientific progress. Not that you’d know what progress is,” Bryony said without looking back. She didn’t see Ska flipping her off.
“Stuff it, nerd. Keasbey, please tell me you found anything, something to kill this boredom.” Keasbey nodded and pointed a wing to the north. Skarada sat up and dusted himself off. “The guard dog’s off his leash. I’ll be back in a minute.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Skarada and Keasbey ventured past a team of grunts scanning through the tall grass. True to their nature, they were avoiding getting on their hands and knees to search for the fallen treasures to keep their red suits clean. Ska didn’t even bother talking to them. He hated people who half assed a project out of wussiness.

At last the two of them came to an interesting sight: a Ruin Maniac and his Graveler were wrapped by blades of grass as long as ropes, keeping them stuck on their feet in one spot. Despite their struggle, the grass bound them tightly. In the Ruin Maniac’s hand was a stone, a perfect sphere of a glassy emerald material. “You, you there, can you help us out of this pickle?” The Ruin Maniac called to Skarada, waving him over as best as he could with just his free fingers.

“What’s the trouble, geezer? Forget to mow the lawn?” Ska knew exactly what the trouble was, but he didn’t want to let that on. There was no point in planting traps all over Route 10’s pillar fields if he was going to give away his secrets.
“Brawwwk! Mow the lawn!” Keasbey repeated.

“Elron and I entered Route 10 from the forest, just over there, when we found this marvelous stone. I grabbed it and on my next step, some…mechanical noise came out from under me. Suddenly there was grass, and here we are.”

“It’s a Mega Stone, actually. And I’ll be taking that.” Ska took the stone out of the Ruin Maniac’s forcibly outstretched hand. The Ruin Maniac gasped and his Graveler growled. “Yoink. No worries, I won’t leave you high and dry. I’m nice like that.”

Ska reached down to his belt, where there were holsters on both sides. They were rectangular, and each one held what looked like a thick deck of cards. The Flare Admin reached into one and pulled out a grey card. It had no suit or number, and was shiny as steel.

Swiftly, Ska slashed the card at the tangling grass. The grass severed and fell down harmlessly around the intruders’ feet. “There we are, good as new.” Ska started to back away, returning the grey card to its deck and handing the stone to his Murkrow for safekeeping.

“You fiend! That stone belongs in a museum.”
“That’s not happening, Professor Jones. My employers want these real bad, and they pay better than you ever will. So, bit of friendly advice. Cut your losses and go in a straight line in that direction, back where you came. Any other path out of here, and chances are you’ll get screwed.”

Skarada gave them a two fingered wave and began to leave, walking around a patch of tall grass. The Ruin Maniac hesitated, looked at the escape route Ska had pointed out, and then to his Graveler. “Elron, retrieve that stone!”

The Graveler punched his four fists together and stepped after the Flare Admin. After two steps into the grassy patch, a blue glow came out from under his feet, from a strange symbol shaped like a bubble. The symbol disappeared and huge bubbles came up from the ground, surrounding the Graveler on all sides.

Before the Ruin Maniac could do anything about it, one by one the bubbles burst forcefully, creating soapy wet explosions that rocked the Graveler side to side until it was too wounded to stand. The Ruin Maniac returned his Pokémon and ran as fast as he could on the path he was told to.

Ska laughed and Keasbey cackled, rolling the Mega Stone around in his wings. “Told him so.”
“Braaaawk! Told him so, told him so!”

((Meanwhile, in a land with no happy people))

Route 13 - Lumiose Badlands

The trainer roared victoriously: 'You'll never win if you don't fight back!'

[That's what I'm thinking!] Malis snarled, leaning away from another of the Primeape's blows. The fist collided with a nearby boulder, blowing it apart; Malis winced as rock shards sprayed at him, scratching his hide.

Primpeape caught a Fury Swipe backhand across Malis's cheek and sent the Charmander flying. Malis scraped along the floor, landing on his feet, and ducked away from another Fury Swipe. He watched his opponent's next move, a Low Kick, and jumped away, making distance.

If he was allowed to use his Flamethrower, he could've melted the Fight type then and there.

Instead, he thought as he bowed away from a Karate Chop, which parted a long section of earth, he had to put all his energy into marking his opponent and avoiding their attacks. Zack had ordered them to go into battle but not fight back. It was pointless. Every match went the same way: Zack sent out a pokémon, they avoided their opponents attacks for a while until they either tired or made a mistake, then-

Malis caught a Power-Up Punch to the face, which threatened to knock his teeth out. Primeape had him now, caught in a flurry of blows that sharpened the Pig Monkey's attack power. The final attack sent Malis crashing to the floor, where he struggled to move.

Every fight ended this way. Sooner or later, they went down. It didn't matter if it was against a wild pokémon, like most of the team had trained against, or in a trainer battle like Malis, of course, had been thrown into.

Primeape rounded on him. Malis saw the way he loped over, his piggish nose snorting stupidly as he raised his arms in an X shape. Malis had never seen a Cross Chop before, but it seemed obvious what would happen. There'd be a sudden swipe of both arms, filled with marvelous power, filling every direction with Primeape's fists. But there would also be a gap just above the attack where, once Primeape began attacking, his face would be left wide open.

Malis had his orders. ******** his orders.

When Primeape dragged his arms downwards, the Charmander rolled onto his back and sprang into the air. Cross Chop shattered the ground and sprayed rubble, but Malis was soaring over it, fire building in his mouth. It poured out as a white-red stream of Flamethrower, engulfing Primeape face-first, and sending the fight type's charred body scraping over the dirt. A critical hit if ever there was one.

Malis landed as Primeape drew to a stop, unconscious. The fire type smirked at his opponent, and dusted off his hands triumphantly. Malis paid little attention to the Primeape's irate trainer as he ran off; he was just some cocky s**t who thought he could beat the king. No, he had more important things to do. Like glare rebelliously as Zack dropped down from the rock where he'd been watching the fight and made his way over.

'Not bad,' he said. Malis frowned. 'I thought you'd be the first. You impatient little s**t.'

Zack grinned, but Malis didn't return it. What, was this some kind of test? To see who'd break first? Malis crossed his arms and threw himself into a patch of dirt beside a raised plateau, which he used as a backrest. Then he closed his eyes, bracing himself.

Not far away, Zack tapped Lethal on the cannon, and the Clawtizer wore a look of intense concentration while Serene whispered instructions. Then he blasted Malis with Heal Pulse. It felt rough, nothing at all like Serene's, but the water type had improved from the Heal Bullets he'd shot earlier.

Now that Malis had taken care of the trainer, the rest of the team went back to fighting wild pokémon. Fatass had particular trouble with this training since he was so big and slow, and tended to be knocked out quickly. Lethal and Hazard were a lot better. Despite his increased size and weight, Lethal was faster than ever, bouncing around the battlefield with his signature combination of Water Gun and Aqua Jet. Hazard covered her fatigue with laughter, which infuriated the wild pokémon as she narrowly avoided their attacks.

[This is stupid,] the fire type grumbled to himself. He glanced around for Zack, but the trainer had disappeared with Antiq. Too good to watch his own pokémon train, apparently. Serene sat by herself, and Malis felt his anger subside for a moment, replaced with pity. She looked so broken. A result, he reminded himself, of Zack's training. ******** a*****e.

Scowling, Malis returned to watching his teammates train. As expected, Fatass had been quickly overwhelmed by a group of Trapinch, who celebrated atop his bitemarked belly as the Snorlax snored. Lethal and Hazard were still in the fight, but had taken some hits and were slowing down.

Something happened when Malis watched Hazard fight. She dodged to the side as a Gible fired a Dragon Rage from its mouth, and Malis saw it. It was like a reflex, or some animal instinct telling him that his chance was now. The Gible was wide open and if he made a move it'd be as simple as crushing an ant under his thumb. He shook his head, coming back to himself, watching Hazard glide sideways and wait for another attack.

[Oh...] he said blankly. [Ohhhhhhh...!]

He leapt to his feet. Serene watched him closely, then returned to holding her head in her hands. Malis jumped onto a rock as Hazard avoided a second Gible's Dragon Rage and shot above the first Gible's Take Down.

[Now! Before it lands! Hazard!' the Charmander shouted. Hazard glanced at him for a second, then returned to dodging her opponents. Malis snarled and turned to Lethal, who had shot himself into the sky above a stray Golbat. The Golbat launched an Air Cutter, which skimmed past Lethal, and Malis saw it again.

[Lethal, do it now! Anything!] he screamed, but the Clawitzer ignored him. Malis felt himself deflate. [Literally anything...]

He grit his teeth and anger flared again. Those idiots didn't get it. Malis turned around and clambered up a staircase of rocks. The training wasn't about dodging, it was about observation. About letting your opponent present openings. They'd never get it unless someone told them, and if they didn't listen to him...

[Zaaaaaack!] the Charmander roared, standing atop a rise. Dust and sand battered him as he desert fought back, but the fire type unleashed flamethrower, blowing it apart.

Antiq ripped the earth asunder with a stroke of her wings, dragging an invisible blade over its surface. The Ancient Power tore up a crumbling wall of rock, larger than a truck and shaped like a scar. Malis gaped, stunned at the power in the Aerodactyl's attack, but jumped down, landing a ways behind his trainer.

Zack studied Antiq's attacks, calling for them one at a time and scribbing in his notebook every few seconds. Sometimes Antiq didn't understand the command, which wasn't surprising given her age. It wasn't like pokémon trainers were even a thing in her day. She seemed to pick up the language pretty quick otherwise.

'Agility,' he said, and the dinosaur obeyed without question. Even without Lethal as a reminder to behave, she had accepted Zack as her master. Antiq summoned her reserves and launched herself quickly to the side, as if flung by an explosion, stopping herself with a wide flap of her wings.

Each time she moved, Antiq sprayed more dust and sand across the desert, kicking up a miniature storm. When Zack felt something claw at his leg, he turned around and didn't act surprised. Malis glared at him, pointing angrily at the training ground and yapping away in pokémonese. Zack sighed as Antiq landed with a rumble behind him.

'Break time. Let's head back.'

Canalave City Library

“C’est pas possible! The whole series, they have the whole ******** series!”

Salieri received a round of “Shush!” from every corner of the library. There were a few tables to sit at, but for the most part the library was shelves and shelves of literature from places and times far and wide. The quality rivaled the Moreau Library from her hometown, and didn’t have any creepy cats to boot. With so many shelves, her amazement must have been quite loud to be heard all over. Mortified, she covered her mouth.

“My bad!” she called back, receiving a second round. Math spun between the shelves, looking at the covers of random books and reading a paragraph or two before putting them back. He couldn’t help grinning while watching Sal get so excited about something that wasn’t brutality.
“I didn’t peg you for, like, a reading person.”
“Yeah, I’m a ‘reading person’. There’s just not a lot of time to read while taking on the League, so…” She trailed off and tucked two books under her arm. “The selection of Trainer biographies here is just, wow. What do you read?”
Math was caught by surprise. “Uh, I don’t read a lot of books. Graphic novels are cool. It’s just hard to pay attention with-“
“Obsessive Impulsive Disorder, right?” Sal faced Matheson, studying him instead of the tomes. “Can you explain that one to me again?”

Matheson nodded and folded his arms, focusing. “Yeah, so, I have trouble controlling my impulses. I got into trouble at school a lot as a kid, and my school was really strict so that was bad. They’d call up my father…that was bad too. And going to balls, or tea conferences. Ugh. You know how tea conferences are.”
“Yes. I know exactly how they are,” Sal said, channeling Mia. Math scratched the back of his head.
“Errr, sorry.”
“You say that a lot. So, keep going. When did you find out you had OID?”
“When I was around fourteen, my father decided it was enough and got me tested. I never even heard about OID before that happened, but they got me medicated and yeah. Here I am. This is how it’s going to be for the rest of my life. But I’m doing better than before, my ICR -Impulse to Control Ratio- went down to 28:1 last year, that’s what’s up.”
“Hrm.” Sal nodded, taking it in. “Is it a struggle for you, or are you okay with it?”
“Wow.” He seemed impressed. “No one’s ever given that question to me straight before.”
She smirked. “I don’t dance around eggshells.”
“I’m okay with it. It’s hard to tell which urges to follow sometimes, but I go with my gut. It feels better that way. Uh, are you okay with it?”
“Yeah.” She shrugged. “Doesn’t matter to me. Do you ever go off your meds?”
“Sometimes. I work faster that way.”
“When was the last time you did?”
Now it was his turn to smirk. “When I met you.”

Sal blushed and cleared her throat, looking away. “That’s so corny, dude.”
“Yeah, well, it’s true. Hey, you know you need a library card to take those, right?”

If it were anyone else Sal would have thought they were changing the subject. But it was Matheson, so it was sincere. The library card issue was an oversight. Her previous excitement deflated. “Aw. Merde.”
“This doesn’t have to be the last time you come here.” Matheson took Metis the Klefki out of his pocket and jingled his keys. “Magic keys, remember?”
“Speaking of, it’s my turn to choose the next spot, right?”
“It is.” He unhooked the Magic Door Key and handed it to Sal. “What did you have in mind?”

She turned the key around, looking at her grin in its purple reflection. “You’ll see.”

Cyllage City – Pokémon Center

If anyone needed a book right now, it was Team Dune. They needed a book on how to catch a Pokémon. Or a book of any good size that they could throw, because they had run out of power points long ago escaping a horde on the end of Route 10. Just like on the beach, Dune’s Pressure had attracted wild Pokémon of a significantly higher level than usual. They had defeated a few, and Ivan even told them they had gained levels (whether or not Ivan was lying remained to be seen), but once the beasts from the Route’s depths came out, they took the term ‘Tactical Retreat’ very seriously.

Now they were in the Pokémon Center, taking turns getting healed and waiting for Ivan to get another fix on Vaporeon’s position. At first the Nurse wasn’t keen on healing random unsupervised Pokémon, but then Ivan replayed Sal’s commands from before and used a lot of legal jargon that both confused and frustrated the Nurse into surrendering and treating them.

[How many Pokéballs do we have left?] Lupin asked, sprawled on the couch. Next to him, Biz looked into Sal’s bag.
[Two.]
[Two?! What happened, we started with twenty!]
[They got used on Route 10. We caught ten squirrels.]
[We caught twelve squirrels,] Dune corrected from the opposite couch.

Lupin groaned. They had lost Vaporeon, wasted time and energy fighting wild Pokémon, and only had two shots left. He longed for the earlier part of the day where he could relax in the bedroom. If he retired now he’d never hear the end of it from Salieri. And her voice was very grating. [Do we restock?] They didn’t have cash on them, but Lupin knew how to get a five finger discount.

“Beepboop negative,” Ivan chimed from the coffee table. “I have Vaporeon’s new location.”

The Pokémon all leaned in. [Where?] Dune asked, standing up.
[Isn’t it weird that it can understand what we’re saying?] Biz asked, but Lupin elbowed him to shut him up. It was a decent question, but wrong place and wrong time.
“Coming from the north…recalculating…two minutes away…recalculating…she’s heading for the Pokémon Center, full speed.”

The party all exchanged cautious looks. They were rested for the most part, with the PP fully restored. It was time for another round. In the middle of town there were many sources of water and drains for Vaporeon to escape through, but it was still a better bet than the coastline. Wordlessly, Durendal strapped Ivan’s cradle over his shoulder and stepped outside. Biz and Lupin followed. [Yeah, back in the fight!] cheered the Quilladin.

When they got outside the building, they saw a stream of water come around the street corner, reform into Vaporeon, and skid to a stop before running at them. She was smiling. Biz stepped forward but Dune held out an arm to stop him. The Pawniard didn’t like the feel of this.

The street started to rumble. It turned out his instinct had been spot on, because Vaporeon had led a section of the horde they had been fighting before into town, rampaging after her. [Come and get ‘em, boys.]

Houndour, Snubbull and Electrike packs led the horde, while a few Hawlucha and Yanma flew behind them. At the back of the pack was a Golurk, clomping down the street slower than the rest and looming over them with a blank expression.

Lupin turned invisible as Biz Marquis’ jaw dropped. [Back in the center! Back in the center!]

Durendal counted up their enemies. Fourteen, and Vaporeon made fifteen. But the Bubble Jet Pokémon was the only one that really mattered. As she melted away into water and slid under his legs, Dune turned around and flew after her down the street.

[Yeah, sure,] Lupin hissed bitterly from his hiding spot on the top of a lamppost as he shot a Charge Beam from his fingertips, knocking a Yanma off its flight course. [We’ll take it from here, Dune.]

Biz wielded three needle swords, two in his hands and one between his teeth as the horde drew closer. More opponents called for more swords. That wasn't a Quacklin'-ism, but it made perfect sense to the rotund swordsman. [None shall pass! Mmmf, ew, it tastes like my arm...]

And on the sides of the street, the people who didn’t have enough sense to take some cover stood from a safe distance taking videos instead, because this was a great candid moment, and you don't pass this kind of s**t up.

Lumiose City – Centrico Plaza, Five Years Ago

A shallow canal ran across Lumiose City through its center, connecting to rivers outside the city walls. Moze scrubbed his hands in the cold water, watching David’s blood seep away. His own knuckles were scraped from how many punches he leveled at the other’s teen face. The blood from those wounds didn’t wash away as easily.

He stopped when he noticed puffs of cotton floating down wind. “Cott~”

Moze turned around, jumpy. A Pokémon he had never seen before floated on a tiny whirlwind in front of him, something teddy bear shaped with a huge mane of white fur. On closer inspection, that fur was cotton. The Whimsicott’s eyes were dead, as if they weren’t real, but the frozen smile it offered Moze gave the teen some form of comfort. Cotton brushed up against his knuckles, pressing against his tiny cuts.

“Thanks,” Moze said weakly. He looked down at his reflection in the water, illuminated by the streetlamps. Arnaud had given him the same birthday as Salieri, making Moze about fifteen years old by that estimate. In the water he looked older, haggard and lost.

“Who are you trying to please?” His eyes darted around, looking for where the whisper came from. It sounded like an old man. “Do what makes you happy,” came another whisper from the unknown, this one sounding like a little girl.

Moze stood up, twisting to find the sources of the voices. Centrico Plaza was all but empty, except for the two of them and the cotton that drifted like snow. “Did you hear that?” he asked the Whimsicott. If it did, the Whimsicott wasn’t going to tell him. The Windveiled Pokémon’s expression hadn't moved an inch.

“Why clean up the blood?” came one more whisper. This one’s voice sounded exactly like his own. “Blood is what you want, isn’t it?”

Lumiose City – Soledad Apartment, Present

Nurse Chanel, who had been hired by Salieri to watch over Arnaud, was cozy in the living room couch reading a book from Salieri’s shelves. Chanel had fed Arnaud about an hour ago. His motor functions were about the same, but his memory was still touch and go. Once in a while he’d forget who Chanel was, and yell at her to get out of his house. For the Nurse, it was something she had seen before in patients with Alzheimer’s or dementia. Recognizing it didn’t make it easier to deal with. With pangs of sympathy, she could only imagine what it had been like for Salieri and Moze to deal with as children.

Something stuck to the inside of her eyes, something soft. Chanel reached up to taking out the cotton that had somehow seeped through the window, but was distracted by the music ringing through her eardrums. It was a pleasant tune, something like a Grasswhistle, only there was something sinister in its tone. Chanel had little time to ponder where the cotton earbuds came from, because she soon fell fast asleep.

Moze slid the window open and crawled into his living room, entering his home as a stranger. “Wait here,” he commanded to Shepard Fairey as he opened his father’s bedroom door.

When he saw Arnaud laying in bed, staring at the window with skittish bewilderment and atrophied muscles, he gulped. The once proud, strong man he had known as his father was a shadow of his former self. “Hey Arnaud.”

Arnaud met Moze’s eyes, staring at them for a moment before smiling. “Mozart. Where have you been? I haven’t see you for days.”

Years, actually. “I’ve been…” Moze pulled up a chair and sat down next to the bed. “Busy, I’ve been busy. How are you feeling?”
“Fine, just fine. A little tired.” Arnaud peered into Moze’s eyes. “You look like you could use some sleep.”
“I really could.” Moze tried his best to return his father’s smile. “I just thought I’d stop in and see how you were doing.”
“…what’s the matter?”
“Nothing. Everything’s cool.”
Arnaud gave him a knowing look. “What’s the matter?”

Moze looked at the door, checking if it was closed. “…do you remember when we went to Oblivia and took those Primary Ranger courses, me and Sal?” Arnaud nodded, so he continued. “There was that time where we learning rope skills, and had to whip tin cans off of posts from ten feet away. I couldn’t get past three cans. Salieri got ten.”

Arnaud chuckled, and his voice suddenly had some of the liveliness it had lost over time. “You were so embarrassed that she did better than you, you ran to the beach. Yes, I remember.”
“You told me that I wasn’t going to be the best at everything I tried, that I shouldn’t get used to that feeling, and you told me that was just fine as long as I could be the best Moze. Do you remember, Arnaud?”
“I do.”
“I thought about that, a lot. And when I came back here, I was still better than the rest of the kids at everything else. Training, battling, fighting…I don’t want to sound like a connard, but it’s true. I was, I knew I was. I still felt like I had to be.” He rubbed his hands on his knees. “If I’m good at something, it’s my responsibility to do something good with that, right? I shouldn’t let a talent go to waste….”

Moze cleared his throat. “I messed up. Somewhere I slipped, and I can’t remember where. I’m sure…I’m sure you know what that feels like…I screwed up. I want to make it right, and I think I finally know how. But if this way isn’t right, then it’s wayyy too wrong, and I don’t know what to do….” By now he realized he was crying. “I don’t know what to do. My head hurts all the time. I’m so tired, Dad. I’m so tired.”

“Come here, it’s okay,” Arnaud said, his arms wide open. Moze felt ten years younger as he accepted his father’s embrace and buried his face into Arnaud’s chest. “It’s going to be okay.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know I trust you and your sister more than anyone else in the world to do the right thing. It isn’t how I raised you. It’s that I know you’re good people.”
“But people change-“
“They don’t change that much. If you don’t know what’s right then follow your heart.”

Moze sat up, sniffling. “I want to come home. I will come home. I just need more time…I just need to know I can fix this, fix you-”
“No one does it all themselves. Go get some sleep, you need to rest…” Arnaud trailed off, looking past Moze blankly. Moze wiped the tears from his eyes and gulped down his fear.
“Arnaud? Are you still here?”
“Hmm? Of course I’m here,” Arnaud said tentatively.
“Thanks for the talk.”
“Yes, yes.”
Moze furrowed his brow, and prepared to ask a question he didn’t want the answer to. “What’s wrong?”

Arnaud sighed wistfully, then shook his head. “Nothing’s wrong. You just remind me of my son, is all.”

((Today's date? There's more than just one, my friend))

Lumiose City - Centrico Plaza

Ronin was growing impatient. Lines were never his thing.

But the line for the rollercoaster was by far the largest in the entire festival. Much like the rollercoaster itself, it wrapped around Prism Tower several times, but unlike the ride, it moved at a snail's pace. Florish spotted a pair of firebreathers and went to point them out to Ronin, but saw the thunderous look on the patch of skin that roughly approximated the Hitmonlee's face and decided against it. She glanced down, and saw that he'd tapped his foot so much, the ground had started to crack.

[It won't be long now,] the Lilligant said, and not for the first time. The line lurched forward and everyone shuffled along and stopped. Florish said soothingly, [There, see? We're getting there.]

They waited another five mintutes.

[We're getting there...]

Finally, the line lurched forward again and a group of excited rollercoasterers poured out of the gate. One or two looked like they were going to vomit, but that was to be expected. The ride was shaped somewhat like a corkscrew.

Amongst all the humans and pokémon coming out of the side, Ronin spotted a Machoke amble out with a Gothitelle, who looked like she'd ridden a milk float instead of a rollercoaster. The Machoke yawned and put his arm around Gothitelle as they walked away, and caught Ronin's eye with a grin. The Hitmonlee froze on the spot, then glanced at Florish, considering it. Before he could decide, the line moved again and they were at the front of the queue. The attendant looked down at them, then scratched his forehead beneath his cap.

'Sorry guys,' he said, pointing to a sign shaped like a grown human, with a red line somewhere along the chest. 'Don't meet the line, don't meet the ride. Just the way it goes.'

Ronin clenched his fist. He was tall enough, barely, but Florish was well under the right height. She didn't seem too worried though, because after getting over her initial surprise, she used Growth to swell upwards another foot. Not wanting to be outshone, Ronin ratcheted his legs to a few inches longer so he remained taller than her. He crossed his arms and looked at the attendant, mentally daring him to challenge them.

Instead, the attendant shrugged and held out his hand. Ronin held up the money Wayne had given him, but had no idea how to count it. Some coins looked bigger than others, but he knew that sometimes the smaller ones were worth more for some reason. Deliberating, he scratched his head, but the attendant grew impatient and took the right amount off him. They were allowed through the booth onto the rollercoaster, while Florish offered words of consolation ([Don't worry, I can't count them either]). Another attendant showed the two pokémon to a seat, and they sat down.

[This is nice,] Florish said while they waited for the ride to fill up. [I've never been on a rollercoaster before.]
Ronin, who had been thinking about the Machoke with his arm around the Gothitelle, bolted back to earth. He looked around, piecing together what Florish had just said. He replied. [Me either.]

She nodded quietly, and started observing their surroundings. Ronin felt fire in his chest. Do it now or don't do it at all said a voice that sounded annoyingly like Gremlin's in the back of his head.

He'd do it. Ronin started to yawn and stretched out his arm when the rollercoaster juddered, beginning to move.

'Please keep your limbs, wings and other appendages inside the ride at all times,' said a bored voice. It was immediately followed by a Pikachu repeating the same line in pokémonese but with considerably more pep.

[Oooo, we're moving!] exclaimed Florish, holding her leaves on the bar at their chests. Ronin held onto it as well, squinting a little as the light shifted from the dark of the station to the brightness outside. They began to move upwards, almost vertically, and Ronin felt the weight of gravity push on his chest.

The ride was going to reach the peak of Prism Tower, over a thousand feet in the air, before spiralling downwards.

[Oh, I hate heights,] Florish said, holding her leaves over her eyes the higher they reached. With Gremlin's voice pounding in his ear (Do it now! Do it nowwww!), Ronin plucked up his courage and put his arm around Florish's shoulders. She squealed with alarm, dropped her arms and pulled away from him. Her face said it all; complete shock at what he'd just done.

Ronin snatched his arm back, feeling utter shame, face burning, and looked over the edge of the ride at the town in miniature. Far below, he could see something familiar. A battle taking place, blasts of fire and water. He squinted. A Typhlosion and a Politoed, out-numbered and out-matched. The ride reached its tipping point; the peak of Prism Tower, with the whole of Kalos laid out before them. The front of the rollercoaster dipped over the edge and dragged the rest with it, building up blinding speed.

It plunged into an immediate spin. The first few revelations were the most intense, spinning quickly around the tower. As they build outwards, and they sky went from a blur to a winding landscape, the track went up and down, and even had a few brave loop-the-loops when there was space, but Ronin's attention was on the battle.

Demo tried escaping the fight, but one of the Hariyamas blocked him, sending him flying back into the arena with a hard slap to the face. Kibbit wasn't faring much better, her wild blasts of water too tactless to catch her opponents off guard. Before he knew what he was doing, Ronin had slipped out of the bar, and had half climbed out of the speeding rollercoaster.

[Ronin! Sit back down!] Florish cried, but he ignored her; his embarrassment was too raw. He ought to have stuck to what he was good at. And what he was good at involved death-defying plummets into an arena populated by opponents he couldn't gauge to save teammates who couldn't stay out of trouble.

The rollercoaster rocketed along its track. Ronin hoped he timed it right and leap off the ride. His springy legs propelled him through the sky, and he arced, then dropped like a rock onto the festival.

One of the Hariyama Brothers caught Kibbit mid-Power-Up Punch and swung her in circles with a Vital Throw, tossing the Politoed into Demo, who was just about to launch his Fire Blast. The attack stifled when Kibbit hit Demo's gut, then exploded in his mouth, sending them tumbling backwards into a heap. The three Hariyama Brothers loomed over their opponents while their trainer bounced up and down in the background.

'Yes! Yes! Beat zose rotten thieves! Kick zeir pilfering derrières!'

[Oww... tell me you've had an idea, ribbit,] Kibbit groaned, picking herself up.
[Uh, I could, but I'd be lying,] Demo replied, wincing as pain shot at his chest.
[Oh. Well, I just had one,] Kibbit said, panic rising in her voice. [Duck!]

Ronin crashed into the back the lead Hariyama Brother's head, sending him flying forward, right over Demo and Kibbit, and hitting the floor face-first on the other side. He scraped the flagstones and lay still. Ronin touched down, span around mid-bounce and landed in front of his teammates.

[Ronin!] they shouted together.
[Does that mean that Wayne is here, ribbit?] Kibbit asked, looking around hopefully. The Hariyama Brothers had stopped in their tracks, and looked about as stunned as the brother Ronin had kicked.
[I dunno, last time I saw Ronin he was with Florish,] Demo said, waving his paw dismissively. He stopped himself, then delivered a sly grin at the fight type. [Were you guys on a date? How'd that one turn out?]
[Tch, obviously pretty badly. I mean, would you rather be on a date with Florish or in a battle with the Hariyama Brothers, ribbit?]
[I think I'd rather get my everything shaved than be in this battle,] Demo groaned. Ronin's eye started to twitch.

[Very... good,] the lead Hariyama grumbled, making the three members of Team Wayne jump, and split their attention between him and the other two Brothers. [I haven't felt a kick like that in ages.]

He shoved the ground hard, and made it split. Then, as if rising on invisible strings, the fight type flew back to his feet. He turned, and singled Ronin out with his gaze.

[Come, Brothers! Let us end this battle. But first, I want the one who looks like a foot to try that kick one more time. Only now he won't be so cowardly as to face a foe whose back is turned!] The other Hariyama Brothers nodded, chanted their names and launched into the sky. They span, then shook the earth as they landed beside their brother in combat poses.

[Flying moves,] Ronin murmured to his teammates. [Psychic moves.]

[Huh? What'd he say? Did he ask if we could fly?] Demo asked, but Ronin couldn't answer. He was already sprinting forward. He exploded into a jump, sending shards of brick flying in his wake, then span and delivered a full on Hi Jump Kick into the lead Hariyama's belly.

But the arm thrust pokémon's flab absorbed the impact. Ronin's foot sank into Hariyama's stomach, with Hariyama coiling around the attack. Then Hariyama threw his fists outwards and gut forwards in a Counter move that sent Ronin speeding like a bullet.

[Hohoho, nice try,] the Hariyama called, grabbing Ronin before he was flung too far away. He swung the Hitmonlee onto the deck and planted his foot on the fight type's chest, pinning him.

The lead Hariyama shook his head in deep regret. [You made an error in siding with those thieves. They stole food from our master's stall. The proceeds of which would've gone to feed starving children left in the wake of the Ambrette Town disaster!]
Ronin struggled under Hariyama's foot, but stopped for a second, and spoke painfully. [Why... why didn't you just give them the food?]

The lead Hariyama stopped pressing so hard. He straightened up and glanced at his brothers, who looked to one another and shrugged. The lead Hariyama resumed crushing Ronin and raised his voice. [Dooooo not question the ways of the Hariyama Brothers!]

[Okay, I know it was bad before but this is way worse,] Demo said quickly. [What did he mean when he said fly? What could he possibly have meant to tell us?]
Kibbit rolled her eyes. [Ribbit, you're dumb. Follow my lead, fat boy.]

Ronin had no mouth, but his lack of screams was more to do with his crushed rib cage than any post-apocalyptic short fiction. Instead he grunted painfully, but even his wild struggling began slowing down. His body took more and more effort to move. His vision began darkening. Hariyama seemed so far away...

The two other Hariyama Brothers were bowled over simultaneously. One took a purple bolt of light to the face, while the other couldn't counter Demo's high speed Aerial Ace. They were sent crashing, and the floor rumbled. Demo and Kibbit tried their attacks again on the lead Hariyama, but he wouldn't be taken off guard now. He bowed forwards with far more grace than his size would suggest, and the two attacks went overhead and collided with each other.

Demo was flung backwards, and rolled to a stop, unconscious. Kibbit landed well, but immediately had to jump away to avoid Hariyama's Cross Chop. Instead of jumping all the way backwards, she spat out her tongue, which glued itself to Hariyama's shoulder, stretched, then flung the water type back into the fray.

[You little pest!] Hariyama roared, hands flailing around but failing to grasp the Politoed as she recoiled her tongue and flew over his shoulder. Kibbit blasted Hariyama in the face with Psychic, and he stumbled backwards, blinded and swinging his arms. Kibbit hit the floor. Before Hariyama could accidentally trample Ronin, she grabbed the Hitmonlee with her tongue and yanked him to her feet. The fight type was barely conscious.

[Wake up! Wake up, Ronin!] Kibbit squealed, shaking him, slapping him in the face with her webbed hand. Instead, Ronin went limp. [Oh no, I think I knocked him out... ribbit.]

Hariyama's flailing slowed, and he started shaking his head, regaining his vision. Just behind him, his brothers were recovering from the surprise attacks, and started climbing to their feet. Kibbit was on her own, and thoroughly, utterly screwed.

'Hey, Kibbit,' said a voice nearby. The Politoed's jaw dropped. Wayne was standing in the crowd; both he and Gremlin were eating from bags of hot bacon waffle fries, which were waffle-shaped fries slathered in delicious bacon bits. 'I dunno what you're doing battling on your own, but I think you're going to lose this one.'

[Wayne! Wayne! There's been a terrible mistake, ribbit! We're all getting blamed for Demo being an idiot and -- toed toed politoed, poli!'
'Man, I have no idea what she's saying,' Wayne sighed. 'Dude, use Translate.'
'She's saying she wants to keep fighting!' Gremlin grinned. Kibbit stomped her foot and shouted something that sounded like a threat in pokémonese. 'Okay, okay, she thinks we should bail and, ah, I think we should too.'

Gremlin pointed a nub at the Hariyama Brothers, whose poses were now considerably less extravagent, and were now glaring at Wayne. Their trainer was doing likewise, hopping up and down and shouting about thieves again.

'Oh geez. Me too,' Wayne said quickly, grabbing his pokéballs and recalling his pokémon. 'Democracy works, so let's bounce! Come on, Florish!'

As Wayne broke into a run with Gremlin dangling from his shoulder, Florish staggered away from the rollercoaster crowd. She held her leaf to her mouth like she was going to be sick but, after seeing the situation by the arena, had to chase after her trainer. The cook's shouts chased them over the festival's racket, and Team Wayne ran and ran until eventually, they disappeared into the crowd entirely.

---

'In other news, a disturbing trend has gripped the Kalos trainer community commonly referred to as Triggering. It involves evoking the image of pokemon from the Route 9 stampede in order to gain a psychological advantage during a pokémon battle, or merely to terrorise helpless survivors. Sponsored 'Safe Zones' have been established to assist in combating this growing threat, because as we all know, hiding from a problem is preferable to actually dealing with it.'

The television blared out of Café Woof's front door as the newscaster relayed the day's events. Besides the relief festival taking place in the plaza and Queen Antoinette's visit to the site of the Ambrette disaster, there wasn't much to talk about.

'Aaaand stop running,' said Gremlin. Wayne collapsed into a chair outside Café Woof on Vernal Avenue. It was empty, presumably because anyone who'd be there normally was at the festival. Florish caught up with them, slowing to a stagger, still dizzy and ill from the rollercoaster. Then she bent over a flower bed and threw up.

'That's- that's okay, just let allllll the bad stuff out,' Wayne groaned and massaged his legs. 'I wonder... I wonder if plant puke is bad for plants or... how do plants even... oh man...'
'Well we definitely can't go back there,' Gremlin grumbled. 'Now what'll happen when I run out of fries?'
'Maybe we could wear disguises?' Wayne suggested, catching his breath. 'Like, I could catch a ditto and then we'd wear it like a mask. I saw it in a manga one time.'
'That's about the stupidest idea I ever heard. Where are you going to find a ditto?' Gremlin shook his head. 'No, I think the only way to get my fries is if we find a way to "take out" Chef Wario over there.'

'Heh,' Wayne smiled dully. 'Take out. Like the food. You okay, Florish?'

The Lilligant nodded as she swayed on the spot. Then she rapidly shook her head and threw up again. The waiter came out of the café, and winced a little at the sight. He watched where he was stepping and took out his pen.

'Alright lads? Lady?' said the waiter. He was a skinny guy, completely bald except for his bright pink mohawk. 'Can I get you lot something to eat or drink? We do both.'

Gremlin nudged Wayne, who sat up. 'Uh yeah, do you do bacon waffle fries by any chance?'
'You what, mate?'
'I think that's a no.'

---

After ordering at the café, Wayne's team were supplied with an assortment of food. He released his party, now confident that the stall owner had given up on chasing them. Demo munched away at the pokéchow that the waiter had brought, almost entirely forgetting his ordeal with the cook. Kibbit, on the other hand, was more apprehensive, instead chewing her food slowly, and being wary of the Hakumita Brothers, who may well have followed them out of the festival.

Ronin laid his head on the table, still recovering from the battle. He ignored the food that Wayne ordered for him, but was roused by Florish, who kept tapping him on the shoulder with her leaf. He looked up, and flushed with embarassment.

[Hey, Ronin...] Florish said leaning over, her face even whiter than usual, if that was at all possible. [I just... I just want you to know that --]

The Lilligant's cheeks bulged and she threw up on Ronin's lap before she could finish. The Hitmonlee didn't even shift, but succumbed to gravity and brought his head to rest on the table.

((Incidentally, I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream is the name of Ronin's autobiography))

Cyllage City Streets

“Scenario: Vaporeon reaches the ocean. Chances of successful capture lower to ten percent, beepboop.”

Durendal didn’t need Ivan in his ear telling him what he already knew, but he wasn’t going to waste time telling the Pokédex to stop. His chase had left Biz Marquis and Lupin far behind. He could only hope they would be alright without him there. Right now the priority was Vaporeon.

The Bubble Jet Pokémon led him through the city streets. People jumped out of the way as her watery form snaked on the ground this way and that, dodging Dune’s Thunder Waves that fizzled against the concrete. They were now in the bazaar, a few rows of lean-to’s holding clothing, jewelery and other exotic knick knacks from overseas. Durendal couldn’t spot any readily available sources of water, which was good, but the bazaar was crowded and already he was having trouble keeping sight of Vaporeon, which was not good.

Dune jumped and flew through a clothing rack to cut Vaporeon off. His flight had brought him into a cute blue summer dress. Pushing down his embarrassment, the dressed up Pawniard flicked several crimson jolts as the Water type.

Vaporeon sprang up and away and Durendal flew after her, ready for the dodge. He tackled the mass of water and they swirled around each other in the air, lashing and slashing and spinning towards a nearby human gym. Vaporeon changed shape into a watery hand that grabbed Dune by the ankle and flung him into the roof.

[You’re the only one that can keep up,] Vaporeon told him as she changed back to normal and he made a smooth three point landing, staring her down and tearing off his admittedly adorable dress. [And you’re still not that great. No way I’ll stick with a team this useless!]

She stopped goading him long enough to blast a Scald in his direction. Dune thrust his weight behind a Slash, cut the Scald in half to power through, and rose an arm up above the surprised wild dog to hammer blow her through the roof.

The two of them fell into the gym below, directly in the middle of a set of treadmills and rowing machines. Musclebound fitness junkies scrambled away as Vaporeon violently sprang back, growling. The excess sweat on the surrounding humans flew off their bodies and turned into a rancid tendril that Vaporeon whipped at Dune repeatedly.

Dune slashed back with Dual Chops, forced onto the defensive as the gym was evacuated. He took a second to look out the window and saw Lupin trying to sneak away from the horde he sarcastically said he’d fight. As a Hawlucha and a Yanma flew at him from both sides, Lupin turned invisible, resulting in the two wild Pokémon crashing into each other. Instead of seeking out the escaping Kecleon, they started arguing with each other until they became a tangle of wings and limbs, wrestling on the floor in a dust cloud.

Evidently it was a tactic Lupin had been using throughout his battle, because Dune noticed most of the wild Pokémon fighting amongst each other. When they were weak enough Lupin would pick them off from a distance with a Charge Beam from an invisible standpoint, which had grown strong over repeated use. There was little honor in this sort of trickery for the Pawniard, but he had to admit it was super effective. The one Pokémon that hadn’t been distracted this way was the Golurk fighting Biz Marquis.

Everyone who had ever seen a giant robot fight steered clear from Golurk as it stomped after Biz, bringing down a huge foot to try and pin the Quilladin down. [Not today!] Biz grunted, flipping back and away with surprising grace and parrying a Mega Punch off to the side with dual Needle Swords. There was no doubt that the Golurk was much stronger, but Biz had the advantage in skill. For once, Dune didn’t feel like he had to back the boastful fighter up.

It wasn’t like he could anyway, seeing as he had to deal with Vaporeon. He hadn’t fully healed from the fight before and had only landed one solid attack on the Bubble Jet. Undettered by his lack of true progress, he kept moving. The sweat tendril was cut to pieces, now all over the floor, and Vaporeon was slithering away as a puddle and out through the door. Durendal went hot on her heels.

“Beepboop. Vaporeon’s HP is at 60% with a steady incline. Designation>Aqua Ring. Proposed Solution: Force her here.”

Dune dared to take his eyes off his elusive target to check the map that Ivan created, and suddenly he felt vastly more confidant that this capture would work. They had two Pokéballs, two shots to make it count, and they’d need them both.

[Psst! Mask of Zorro, are we done yet or what?] Lupin hissed from on top of a lamppost as Dune came his way, dropping his camouflage around his head. Dune didn’t answer and instead grabbed Lupin by the tail, yanking the Kecleon behind him through the air. [Yow! Quit it! What’s wrong with you?]

“A new strategy is being implemented. Importance rating of Kecleon shifting from 3% to 57%.”
[You trying to say I’m useless?] Lupin turned his nose up and away. [When this is done, you and me are gonna have a talk, Poin-Dex-Ter. I get no respect around here…]

Lumiose City – Centrico Plaza

“Huh.”

Moze hadn’t heard that there would be a benefit for Ambrette Town in the heart of Lumiose City today. He had both ears to the ground listening for Horton Balibar and the man who sold a child Potion Extract, and no ears for anything else. So the sudden festivities came as a surprise. If it wasn’t his hometown he’d be able to blend in easily. But it was, and he ran a higher risk than before of running into someone he knew.

The rollercoaster coiled up and around the Prism Tower caught his attention as he made his way to it, hat down and head low. Returning to the secret room at the top would have been easy any other time. Now it’d take some effort, and a little bit of luck. I have to get my bag.

He passed the famous Hariyama Brothers who were fighting three trainerless Pokémon and got online for the rollercoaster, taking note of a Lilligant who looked like she was about to hurl. Moze paid the fare and took a seat at the very back of the ride. Thankfully, no one sat down next to him. The guard bar came down and the ride chugged forward. When he still had Banksy, Moze would test the limits of her skills as a flyer and his skills as a pilot, doing flips and barrel rolls and whatever else he could think of. The way the rollercoaster climbed and twisted through the air almost felt the same. But not quite. He missed Banksy.

At last the rollercoaster was about to loop around the top of the tower. No one was looking his direction, just as he expected. “We’re gonna jump, Shepard,” he whispered into his shirt pocket. “Through the secret window. Get ready.”

Moze lifted up the guard bar and his Whimsicott popped off of his pocket, compressing his body with such speed that to anyone else it looked like the two of them had turned into a liquid mass swirling into some otherworldly drain, disappearing on sight. The cottonballs they left behind were lost in the wind as they throttled from the coaster through the crack in the window and back into the secret room.

They decompressed back in the room and Moze took a moment to lie on his back and catch his breath. Being forcibly compressed took a toll on his body. He used to only be able to manage it for a second. Five seconds was a huge improvement. And with Shepard Fairey’s speed, five seconds was often enough.

The room was still untouched, but that was something he also expected. The only people he knew of that had knowledge of the room’s existence were himself, his sister and Mia. Chances are they told other Gotengo kids about it, though that didn’t worry him. Under the bed on the other side of the room was his bag. Once his breath came back to him, Moze moved to retrieve it.

The door handle jiggled, causing Moze to freeze. What? Who? Thinking fast he spun around behind one of the two support columns on the side of the little room, slinking against it and making himself scarce. In the window’s reflection he could see a warped view of what was going on at the door. It also meant that whoever came in might see him in that same reflection.

The door opened. “Oh whaaaaat? Is this actually the Prism Tower?” came an awed young man’s voice. Moze saw in the reflection that the voice belonging to someone blond and built like a line backer.
“Yeah. No one knows about this but me, a few friends and my bro. He’s the one that found it.”

Moze didn’t have to see who was saying that. Right away, he knew that voice belonged to his sister.

“Your brother sounds pretty cool.”
Sal sighed in a nostalgic way. “Yeah. He was.”
“Was?”
“I mean is.”
“Do you, though? It doesn’t sound like it. Sorry, I don’t want to pry, but I want to pry.”
“Yeah, I mean…”

He slunk down against the ground out of the reflection and covered his mouth with his hands to stifle his shock. No. For just a second he poked his head out from around the corner to see Salieri and Matheson poking around the novelty bedroom, only ten feet away from him. What’s she doing here? Under the bed he could see the corner of his bag sticking out. She can’t see that.

Salieri was quick to change the subject. “The view here is killer, check out-wait, what?”
“What’s up?” Matheson asked her, joining Sal at the window. When both of their backs were turned, Moze silently walked out from behind his column and advanced to hide behind the next one, six steps closer to the bed and to the unexpected guests. “Riiiight, that Ambrette Town benefit thingy is today. I heard this was gonna happen.”
“Does this seem like bad taste to you?” Sal asked Math, pointing to the attractions below. “Whack a Diglett to earn tickets and rebuild Ambrette Town?”
Math shrugged. “Bread and circuses. Even when you know what it is, it’s still tasty and fun.”
“That’s pretty astute, coming from a noble.”
“Thanks? That’s a compliment, right?”
She chuckled. “Yeah. It is.”

Moze’s stomach wrapped itself in knots. He’s a noble? Why is she with a noble? A blend of feelings churned in his gut. Confusion, betrayal, and joy to see his sister having a relatively normal moment. Like with Mia before, he could feel the strings of his conscience pulling him out of his hiding spot to talk to her, to say hello and sorry and that he missed her. Cold logic ingrained over the past five years told him not to, and prevailed.

“Can I ask you a personal question?” Matheson asked.
He heard Salieri sigh. “Shoot.”
“How’d you get that scar?”

Moze froze up at the question. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, and without seeing her he knew his sister was doing the same. Only she did it with a short, bitter laugh. “Is it a funny story, or?”
“No, not at all funny. It’s just related to your other question.”
“…if you don’t want to-“
“No, I’ll tell you. I should tell you. We should be honest with each other.”

There was a bookcase and a wide open space standing between Moze and the bed. The need to reach his bag became even more urgent because he really didn’t want to hear this story. “When Moze came home from the Pokémon League he had seen a lot. And forgotten most of it. I can’t imagine that level of pain…he was using Potions on himself, at first because of his wounds and then because he wanted to. They made him angry. Made him mean.”

Moze twisted away from his hiding spot and pressed himself against the bookshelf. He crouched down, seeing if he could reach his bag without leaving his new cover. He couldn’t. “There was this Whimsicott he started hanging out with-“

At the mention of ‘Whimsicott’, balls of cotton puffed out from Moze’s shirt pocket. Moze flicked at the hidden Shepard Fairey to get him to step “-a really creepy Pokémon. This sounds weird, but I didn’t like it. It was a bad influence on my brother, somehow.”
“No. That doesn’t sound weird,” Matheson said softly.
“One day I saw he was packing his bag to leave. He was going to go without saying a word, and he was going to leave his last Pokémon behind. I begged him to tell me what was going on, but he wouldn’t do it.”

Moze gripped at his arm, hard enough to break the skin. How could I tell you, Salieri? You’re the one person I didn’t want to see me like that. Quickly he crept out from behind the bookshelf and slid under the bed, grabbing his bag. Salieri happened to turn around right after and pace across the room. Moze muffled a sigh of relief.

“He had one of those stupid Potions, drinking it every time I asked him something he wanted to avoid. I told him to give it to me. He wouldn’t. So I tried to take it from him.” Salieri gestured to the floor, as if it had happened here. “We were fighting over this bottle, and I never thought I’d see him so low. The bottle broke, and he lashed out, and a shard cut me across the face.”
“Merde,” Math said with a sharp exhale, and from under the bed Moze slapped a palm to his face, almost wishing they’d flip the bed and find him there cowering in shame.

I never meant to hurt you. I’ll never forgive myself for scarring you, Salieri. If I could go back, I swear…

“He kept trying to apologize to me, but I told him to leave. I told him...not to come back.” Salieri sat down on the bed, and Moze made his breathing quiet. “And he didn’t, because of me…” She slapped her knees, and with forced pep said, “Well, that’s how I got my scar. And now you know about Moze. I’m on that soap opera grind, I know. You can catch the rest of my life on Tuesdays at ten.”

Matheson sat down next to her, letting their silence grow, until he said, “It’s not your fault he didn’t come back.”
“Maybe it’s not. Maybe it is.”
“It sounds like he had his own demons to work out. You don’t think he felt awful? If I hurt one of my sisters, I don’t know…”
“You don’t have to tell me it’s okay…but I’m glad you’re trying.”

Matheson reached a hand out to Salieri’s. He hesitated, drew it back, then reached out again to meet hers. Sal felt his hand and intertwined their fingers together. Moze saw the whole thing from the edge of the bed’s underside.

Now Moze realized that this noble was infatuated with his sister. He was the sentimental type for sure. Moze thought he was laying it on a little thick. Then again, Moze was perturbed he was laying it on at all, and that Salieri was accepting it. He wanted to come up and tell Matheson that he wasn’t good enough for his sister. But he had been gone for too long in Salieri’s life. He didn’t have that right. He was just glad they weren't hooking up above him, but at this rate it was bound to happen.

The rollercoaster passing by outside, breaking all sexual tension with a loud whoosh, and for that moment Moze could rest easy. “Onto the next event?” Sal asked, standing up and spinning around the Magic Door Key. "Something less dramatic, please."
“Guess I'll have to record the rest of your soap, huh?"
"I'm already regretting making that joke."
"Hehehe. Yeah, I’ve got something in mind,” Math said. She tossed him the key, and was about to step to the door when she noticed the stray cotton on the floor. “Something wrong?”

Salieri didn’t answer, and Moze saw where she was headed. She peeked around the bookshelf and the columns, looking for something, and then came to the bed.

In an instant, Shepard Fairey hyper compressed Moze and slid them out in a blink of an eye between Sal’s legs and into the closed closet. Moze decompressed and stayed perfectly still, watching through the door grate as Salieri checked under the bed. “No…it’s nothing.” She stood up, and Moze could see her smile, and she said, “Let’s go.”

The door opened, closed, and they were gone. After a few seconds, Moze exited the closet, breathing heavy. He looked around the room, and while the sound of the rollercoaster drowned out his cries, he punched the support column till his knuckles were bloody.

Lumiose City - Centrico Plaza

"Daut schienet spos." Were the first official words, though in Hoennese, out of Njorthrbiartr's mouth as she flew over the unfamiliar land. The girl was currently resting comfortably in the ribbon like arms of her lazily drifting Drifblim, who had taken to the skies with her upon their being discovered as stowaways on a large cargo ship at a bay called Azure. The girl had let her Pokemon flow idly along with the wind for several hours, until she saw the enormous, decagon shaped city in the distance. Drawn in due to pure curiosity, the two now floated high above the center of the city where a giant party seemed to be taking place.

Her green eyes darted rapidly from the giant white pillar in the middle of what looked to be a plaza, which had a roller coaster wrapped precariously around it, to rides with spinning teacups, booths that held games that involved darts or throwing ping pong balls into Goldeen bowls, a strange looking Whack-A-Diglett stand, and the many, many stands for what looked to be fair type foods. Her stomach grumbled at the thought of greasy deep fried foods with chocolate and powdered sugar.

"Sea spos." She muttered, patting one of her Drifblim's thin arms at the same time. "Eurus, let's stop here." Njorthrbiartr insisted as she pointed with her glove encased hand at the ongoings below. Eurus the Drifblim said nothing in reply, only nodding it's inflated head once before slowly deflating and descending. Eurus was kind enough to land just in front of a funnel cake stand, catching the eye of many whilst letting his trainer get to the food she so desired as quickly as possible. As soon as she could set foot on the ground, Eurus let Njorthrbiartr go, wrapping one of four arms around her upper arm so that she could drag him around as if he were an ordinary balloon. She made her way slowly to the stand and stopped still right in front of it. A rather plump, startled looking man was behind the booth, staring at the girl who had her hood covering the majority of her face and staring at the several cakes he had preprepared for his customers.

When Njorthrbiartr made no inquiries as to the price of the cakes and the stand owner was shaken out of his confusement, he was glad to let her know the price. "Buck fifty for one, and a shilling more for syrup."

Njorthrbiartr, or better known as Noisy by her closer acquaintances, looked up at the man with her emerald gaze, slowly reaching into her pouch and pulling out three Kanto dollars and handing them to him. The guy lifted a skeptical eyebrow and something akin to understanding flashed in his eyes. Noisy also didn't miss the knowing signs of a smirk playing on his lips.

"Not from around here, eh?" The smirk was forced back as he shook his head in an act of thoughtfulness, "I'll need six Kanto, and that doesn't include the chocolate."

Noisy knew a scam when she saw one, but wasn't one to argue. She only nodded slowly and took three more dollars out, handing them over to the man's sweaty grasp and grabbing the grease and powdered sugar filled paper plate. Instead of turning and looking for a place to eat away from the stand like most normal folk, Noisy made Eurus hold the plate with one of his extra hands and began ripping apart the cake into more manageable bits right where she stood. After all, she couldn't eat and walk at the same time if the thing was all in one giant piece. But that didn't sit well for the stand keeper.

"Hey kid, thanks for the business and all, but I can't have some commoner standing around my place of work." He grumbled just before shoving the money she had handed him into the stained pocket of his apron. Noisy tilted her head a bit as she tried to process why he would ask such a thing, letting her eyes roam about to either side of the stand. A banner on the booth next to her read 'Ambrette Benefit', and the girl had to wonder where she had heard that name before. But before she could think of it, the funnel cake guy spoke up more loudly and interrupted her. "Unless your a badge holder, which I would know if you were, then move it already, foreign trainer scum!"

Noisy felt irritated immediately, more because of the fact that the guy had made her lose her train of thought than the insults he threw at her. She looked up at the guy and gave him a hard glare that he was more than willing to send right back to her. Unfortunately the standoff seemed to have drawn in the curious whispers of a few onlookers, and since Noisy still had no idea where she was at or what region she was in, she figured she could save the trouble making for later. She really didn't feel like getting found out as an illegal visitor without a passport so soon.

So, Noisy deliberately turned around, pulling her hood down lower on her face to protect it from the sun, and began walking around with her funnel cake and Drifblim to see what she could do to have some fun, and maybe figure out where the hell she was along the way. Hopefully not all the people around here were as rude as the fatto selling cakes.

Lumiose- CP

Noisy blinked at the guy, then down at the spattered mess of powdered sugar and fried pancake mix on the ground with the rest of the litter. A disgusting thought about the five second rule crossed her mind before he offered to pay for it. Her green gaze wandered back to the guy, who she noted seemed to be about and around her age, and considered his offer. She may be able to grab some information from him if she managed out the right words.

"It was six Kanto dollars." She informed him simply, not really knowing how much that money would be worth here without knowledge of the exchange rate. Or the region. She study the taller boy carefully, noticing the way he held his hands was just a bit off, not much, and how he glanced somewhat apprehensively over his shoulder.

Apparently he had his own going ons to worry about, or something. Since he was obviously nice enough to be concerned over her spilled food, she probably should have told him not to worry about it instead of making him pay for it. But then again, she was still hungry and didn't have much money left.