Welcome to Gaia! ::

North Boulevard - Hotel Richissime

Pidgey took to the sky in droves, fleeing the roar that echoed through the city streets. Passersby looked for birds and planes, but what they found instead dwarfed them all; the great serpant, Elizabeth Leroux's Gyarados, slithered between buildings overhead. It coiled around the hotel, reached the street, then vanished in a haze of red light that whipped into its master's pokéball. Elizabeth dropped the remaining distance and stood up tall as the onlookers kept their distance. Likely they would, even without her mode of transport. Affixed along the arms of her white blouse were curved armour pieces emblazened with the House Leroux coat of arms. At her hip she wore a steel rapier modelled after a Bisharp, simple compared to the one she had shown Juliet. A Court noble, and a ranking one at that.

While the story at large was that the Hotel had succumbed to an innocuous but unexpected gas leak, the continued police presence spoke of something different. Still, they were relatively few in number, and saluted as she passed, which she returned with the barest of nods. To interact with the commoners was to walk a tightrope. On one side there was complete indifference, which would ultimately lead to their respect but dislike. On the other, to be too welcoming and friendly meant they would forget their place. And the commoners were the foundation where the noble houses were built.

'You there,' she said to a boy in blue, 'has Lady Juliet arrived?'

'Juliet,' said Elizabeth as she approached. She tapped the hilt of her rapier as she examined the ball of cotton. There didn't seem to be anything very special about it. 'Hmm. A little unrefined, perhaps, but it looks like ordinary cotton. What happened here?'

Elizabeth frowned. 'No casualties? Why bother leaving alive witnesses?'

Route 10 proved that Ratio had no problem with mass murder. Hell, being an assassin suggested as much. Horton Balibar was his objective. He'd do anything to achieve that objective.

'How thorough were the background checks on those guards?' Elizabeth asked. 'Were any of them struggling financially? Were any pressing issues suddenly resolved after the attack?'

Elizabeth Leroux was hardly a trained detective. She did, however, own a television.

'Hm, I wouldn't say he's shifted too much, apart from the survivors.' Elizabeth looked around the room, at the trashed finery, and the quiet dread lingering on the air. Nobility brought to ruin. 'My father was quite,' she struggled for the word, 'selfish. I've heard the rumours about Horton, and let's just say there were similar surrounding my father. Perhaps at the end of it all, we'll find that Ratio was simply a concerned citizen.'

She laughed a single, mirthless note, and ran her hand through her hair.

'Ah, I remember speaking to Zack Redgrave, one of the trainers who fought Ratio on Route 10. He thinks Ratio might be using a Ditto. So that's a potential five,' Elizabeth folded her arms. 'Zack claims he doesn't want to help, but pressure and time can fell mountains, and I don't mind exerting a little pressure.

If I see what I can squeeze out of Zack, you could look into Salieri Soledad, another survivor. Your father questioned her already, but I somehow doubt he found everything. Or we could switch, if you prefer. They're valuable sources of information, and I'd hate to waste them.'

Elizabeth nodded to the wrecked lobby. 'Finding out what we can from this is all well and good, but it'll amount to nothing if we don't know how to defeat him in battle. And this will end in battle.'

Judging by Juliet's reaction, Elizabeth had a lot to look forward to with making Salieri's acquaintance. She smiled. 'As you wish, Lady Nostrad.'

Lumiose Press

Alexa didn't even look up from her desk until Benedict said 'oil fields'. She put down her papers and took her cigarette out of her mouth. Her ear was always to the ground, and there had been rumors that one of Jullien Nostrad's companies had hidden illegal oil fields deep in an off route forest. "Oil fields, huh?"

How did this kid know about that? He was Kalosian, a fan of formalities. Alexa thought she recognized him from something recent. Ambrette Town, that was it. He was one of the trainers fulfilling their civic duty. Maybe that's what he was doing now. Getting the word out about something the cops wouldn't talk about. Maybe this was a set up. Esme trusted this kid, but her trust wasn't Alexa's.

She leaned back in her chair, resting her heels up on the desk. "What's your name, kid?"

"Heh heh. Who said that about me, Esme?" Alexa looked away, grinning joylessly. The accolades to her integrity felt undeserved. She hadn't been able to publish an article pertaining to conspiracies, something she was passionate about, for almost a year. "They say reading is food for the thought, but tabloids? Style magazines? Who wore it best? It's poison. Mindless sensationalism, but it sells. Because it's tangible, in front of your eyes." She pointed to her own eyes with to fingers. "Like it or not, it's alive. I let stories die because without proof that it's real, food for the thought rots like anything else. And lately the proof's gone poof."

Surely this kid knew that she was Viola's sister, making her a noble as well. Alexa's highborn status went under the radar largely because she didn't take advantage of it. Her desire for the truth puts her at odds with the 'privacy' of the bluebloods. The people involved were family, and they knew everything about her. Her family could crush her if they had to, and that was the biggest risk.

"That and yeah, because of the risks. And the people involved. Nobody wants to die, yanno?" Alexa stretched her arms over her head, then snapped her fingers next to the window. "Sazerac, come on in."

Her Vivillon popped up out the open window, having been waiting outside to surprise Benedict with a sneak attack if Alexa had felt endangered or like this was a prank. Sporting a Sandstorm pattern, she had blended into the stone walls of the building's outside. When she came inside, the pattern switched to Modern in the blink of an eye on her way to the coat rack.

Benedict didn't give off an overtly dangerous vibe, but Alexa still wasn't sure if she could trust him. Not just his honesty, but his information. His sources. The murmurs about the oil fields had never mentioned a location before. He was the first.

"You're coming to me because you want me to write about this, right? If you want to turn this into a story, you need to know everything about this and be one hundred percent sure you are on the money." Sazerac grabbed Alexa's notepad out of her coat pocket and tossed it to her trainer. Alexa snatched it out of the air and spun a pen between her fingers. "First, I need to know what you know and how you know it."

Her momentum slowed as she eyed Ben, holding the pen up to her lips. "And I want to know what's in this for you."