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 Posted: Tue Nov 17, 2015 11:48 pm
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Posted: Wed Nov 18, 2015 1:23 am
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Posted: Wed Nov 18, 2015 8:36 am
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Cyllage City
"Caller ID," Sal muttered to herself under her breath while waiting at a crosswalk, having forgotten it existed. She shook her head, feeling dumb for a second. "I'm fine, how did you know about...whatever, that's not why I'm calling." She decided to chalk it up to a news leak or witness footage of Banksy leaving Route 10. Esme was smart and knew how to pull strings, of course she'd find out if she wanted to. Salieri didn't want to stretch out a potentially awkward conversation any longer than she had to.
"Do you still have that investigative journalist's contact info? Alexa? I just need to get in touch with her. I won't bother you about any more, y'know, stuff like this again, I promise. I know you want nothing to do with it, so..." Salieri wasn't used to guiding her speech over eggshells to get what she wanted, but she had looked up to Esme once. It was embarrassing to ask for a favor when she felt dejected.
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Posted: Wed Nov 18, 2015 3:08 pm
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Posted: Wed Nov 18, 2015 6:10 pm
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Cyllage City
"Oh. Huh." Sal stopped walking in the middle of the crosswalk, thrown for a loop by what Esme proclaimed. "I didn't expect you to say that." She had talked to Mia before, but Mia hadn't mentioned talking to Esme. Given everything else that was going on (and how Salieri tended to dominate any conversation she was in) it was understandable, but Sal wished Mia had at least dropped Esme's name.
A car honked its horn in Sal's face, turning on the brights to goad Sal into moving out of the street. "I'M WALKIN' HERE!" Sal snarled back at the driver, slapping the hood of the car before she moved and it sped away. A lady pushing a baby Geodude in a stroller gave her a disapproving glance. Sal stuck out her tongue behind the lady's back and got onto the sidewalk. She put the Pokégear back to her ear.
"Okay," she said, warily. Salieri didn't know what was shifting in the natural order of things to make people flock to her side, but it was a lot at once and she wasn't used to it. She didn't want to get too invested in building relationships, new or old. Not when they could leave her alone at any time, like Esme had. "That's...news. Why the change of heart? What signs are you talking about?"
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Posted: Mon Dec 21, 2015 5:59 pm
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Lumiose City - Centrico Plaza
Wayne waited until Chef Wario was dealing with customers before making his move. Gremlin's tiny weight clambered up his shoulder as Wayne fired the first recall shot, which hit Ronin the Hitmonlee square in the back. The trainer tossed the second ball in the air as he turned, trusting Gremlin to make the catch and return his Typhlosion, Demo, knowing full well that Chef Wario's kitchen would immediately go dead. By now he didn't care that the Hariyama Brothers were famous TV combat chefs who could probably kick his butt, he was tired of this. Wayne dashed into the festival crowd, using his shortness to disappear just as a roar of 'HARIYAMAAAAA!' exploded behind him.
---
The rollercoaster lay dormant in the centre of the plaza, its skeleton picked apart and loaded into storage trucks. The festival was almost over, but it wouldn't end with a whimper. Even as stands and stages were collapsed and removed, the crowd roared louder than ever, swelling around the makeshift arena, all eyes on the battle's climax. Machamp destroyed its opponent in a flurry of blows, juggling the limp Nidoqueen from fist to crushing fist before breaking it in the middle of an X-shaped Cross Chop. The Nidoqueen dissolved into red light before she even hit the floor and the crowd rose in a chorus of applause, thundering shouts and claps that the winning trainer soaked up with glee.
Robin stood on the front lines. Her fist shook at her side and she swallowed. Time to get into character.
'Let's hear it for Omer Massé!' shouted the commentator in National, lifting the smart-dressed trainer's hand in the air as the crowd fired another round of cheers. Clearly a noble, Massé was apparently a huge fan of the colour purple since it dominated his wardrobe, all except a red cravat that poked out at his neck. He waved to the crowd and grinned while his Machamp flexed muscles that threatened to burst through the skin. 'Omer already has four badges and looks to be a real contender for this year's championship. Place your bets early, guys, this is one trainer you'll want to keep an eye on!'
Now, as the crowd surged again, time to make an entrance. Any trace of nerves drained away as Robin stepped over the chalk boundary that separated battler from spectator. People noticed when she crossed the theshold. Not all at once, but in a ripple of quietened cheers that became interested murmurs. She walked centre stage and placed the final nail with a nice, slow clap that turned the crowd's volume to nil. The commentator turned around, inadvertantly dropping Massé's hand, as her open mouth turned into a wide grin. Flying pokémon whizzed by with mounted cameras, and beamed Robin's face onto the jumbotron attached to Prism Tower, for all the world to see.
'A challenger appears!' the commentator shouted, her voice projected through speakers dotted around the plaza like an otherworldly echo. She hurried up to Robin with her microphone extended. Before the commentator could say anything else, Robin lifted the microphone from her grasp.
'The name's Robin Carella. I've heard a lot about you, Omer,' Robin said, pacing sideways like a wrestler in the ring. 'You're not bad, nothing special either. I'm gonna wipe you off my shoe, and then I'll-'
'Thank you,' said the commentator as she snatched her microphone back, indignant. 'You heard it, folks. Newcomer Robin Carella has challenged four-badge league favourite Omer Massé to a battle, but how will Massé respond?'
The crowd's focus shifted to Massé, who looked Robin up and down. She knew she didn't seem much to a noble. She had inherited her dark features and skin colour from her mother, and wore a streak of white in her short, wavy hair. Dressed down in military-style boots and cargo pants with an unzipped, loose-fit hoodie, she looked about as dangerous as any other commoner. Massé finished his assessment with a smirk and nod.
'Promise not to cry,' he said, returning to his challenger's box. The crowd went up in a blaze of delight. The commentator thrust her microphone in Robin's face.
'Quickly, Robin, while we have a chance. Why don't you tell us a little about yourself. Where are you from? How many badges do you have?'
'Uh, zero,' Robin looked at the commentator like she was crazy, then turned toward her box.
The commentator stood wordless for a moment before she chased the trainer across the arena. 'Zer- zero badges? Well! Wow, guys! Zero badges! You know what they say about confidence! It's-- wow, really? Zero badges. Zero.'
Robin smiled and leaned into the mic as she reached the challenger box. 'I guess that makes me the underdog.'
Massé's pokéball popped mid-air and white light rained down, forming into a stern-looking Gallade. The commentator blanched as if she were expected to take part in the battle, and hurried off the chalk line as the crowd burst into applause. Showtime. Robin unleashed her Goodra, Vigant, in a burst of light and commenced the battle.
Both pokémon charged one another, but Gallade was faster. It shot up to Vigant, slicing its blade-arms outwards with a mobile 'Swords Dance!' Not a bad move. Vigant halted by slamming her foot into the flagstones, shattering them as she coated her body in Acid Armor. It seeped into her gooey flesh, strengthening it, just as Gallade crashed down with an Ice Punch. An inch before contact, the Goodra went loose and stepped away in a semi-circle, expertly nudging the Ice Punch off course with a press of the palm.
Gallade tensed, ready to leap away from the failed attack, but Vigant had grabbed the Blade pokémon's wrist with one hand and shoulder with the other, locking the arm out and driving it into the ground. Ice Punch erupted with a freezing explosion that lit both pokémon up blue. Vigant remained calm, released Gallade, then crushed it with a 'Power Whip!' on the small on its back. The Gallade went down in a single hit, flat on its face.
As Robin winked to the commentator, the crowd lost their s**t.
---
'Whaaaaat!' shouted Wayne, his voice drowned out as his surroundings bounced up and down, letting loose a deafening round of applause. The trainer barely caught the battle on the jumbotron, but it hadn't lasted more than a couple of seconds to begin with. A sharp pain on his ear directed him to the task at hand. That, and the Aipom hissing into said ear while trying to rip it off.
'I don't know if you noticed, but we don't exactly have time to waste here! I refuse to be back on dish duty! I prune, Wayne. I get soggy and I prune. That's no life for an Aipom.' Gremlin released Wayne's ear, and the trainer rubbed it to make sure it was still properly glued to the rest of him. His escape partner scouted across the sea of heads, chewing on his tail's fingers while Wayne tried to get a good look at the battle. The noble guy looked super pissed and sort of familiar. He had recalled his Gallade and sent out a Togekiss, which was now performing bombing runs with Dazzling Gleam while keeping out of Goodra's reach. Kind of a boring way to battle.
To the Goodra's credit, it was avoiding each burst of light while making it look easy. Dodging fast attacks was more about anticipation and timing than sheer speed, which only made it harder for sluggish pokémon like Goodra. Wayne never thought a vaguely dragon-shaped blob of goo could look graceful but, statistically-speaking, he'd been wrong before.
'Where the hell are they?' Gremlin whined. 'You'd think being freakishly huge would make them easier to spot, but no. They have to be masters of stealth as well as masters of turning me into a pancake.'
'Dude, you should just chill out.' Wayne shouted, his voice barely carrying the few inches over the din. 'We're like, perfectly camouflaged here. You know what they say, you can't see trees.'
'Well I can't see the freakin' Hariyama Brothers either, so sue me if I'm not perfectly calm!'
Wayne shrugged. At least the battle was ramping up again. The noble guy's attacks were more frequent and desperate. He'd obviously realised that Goodra would be hard to pin down and began levelling an array of different attacks, hoping to catch it off guard. Goodra still wasn't fighting back, and had spent its time applying layer after layer of Acid Armor. Togekiss fired off attacks, darting in evasive patterns, getting more and more frantic but hitting nothing as Goodra moved about in an odd kind of dance. Wayne's mouth fell open as he realised what was happening, then he turned it into a grin. Oh, this was good.
Togekiss span around and around, its trainer's frustration transferring into its every move. A Dazzling Gleam hit the floor as Goodra sidestepped, flagstones exploding into rubble underfoot but barely scratching the dragon's hide. The Fairy launched a succession of shots, bursts of pink light erupting like a machine gun, but they failed to hit home. Togekiss darted to the side, then down, then up, its control slipping until it crash-landed and hurt itself in its confusion. It had fallen for Goodra's Swagger, and the dragon type wasn't letting this chance go to waste.
Pouncing on its grounded foe, the Goodra span in the air and landed atop the Fairy type with a powerful Earthquake that shattered the pavement in a giant circle of cracks. Then it raised its hands to the sky, leaping off Togekiss before it had any chance to recover, and swung its arms down, dragging with them a Blizzard that pelted the pokémon at full force. The noble recalled a block of ice.
'Oh no,' Gremlin squealed, delving down the back of Wayne's shirt. It felt really weird, and Wayne squirmed trying to get the Aipom out, but all the pokémon did was squeal again. 'Oh nooo! Wayne, get me outta here. It's the Ha--'
'HARI-' 'YAMA-' 'YAMAAAAAA!'
---
Robin let the cheers wash over her and smiled at Omer Massé. Her mentor had been right all along, she thought, watching Massé's face contort from confusion to rage. Other trainers just couldn't compare. If this was what passed as a league favourite in Kalos, winning the championship would be easy. Then she'd be a stone's throw from the real victory. But first, she had to defeat this Machamp.
Excess light burned off its body. Two of its enormous arms flexed as the other two cracked their knuckles. It was tall for a Machamp, but its attacks were no less agile. Robin remembered the Nidoqueen from earlier, and doubted it would be able to battle again for the rest of the league season. She had felt each crushing attack lean on the pokémon's bones, each muscle fibre and sinew dissolve into pulp. Vigant had made a mockery of Omer Massé, and his noble pride wouldn't let that rest.
'This is it, everyone. Omer Massé opens the third round with his famous Machamp!' The commentator's announcement launched a surge of enthusiasm from the crowd, the boom of voices rumbling Robin from the ground up. 'Dubbed "Win Button" by fans, its presense alone has ensured Massé a victory battle after battle! Carella will have to act quick if she hopes to stand a chance.'
'Kick its butt, Goodra!' shouted someone to Robin's left, voice carrying atop the sea of shouts. The camera-mounted flying pokémon whizzed around the arena in sharp arcs, catching the faces of both competitors. 'Smash its face in!' yelled another voice. Robin could feel the crowd's energy, their spirit raising her up. No doubt Vigant felt it too, the call to battle. Their closed their eyes, exhaled, and entered the zone.
Grinning like a madwoman, the commentator shouted 'GO!' and Machamp bounded forward, its footstep blowing away ground like a bomb explosion. It wouldn't bother trying to dodge Robin's attacks, but that would give it the edge it needed to hit her with its own. The total opposite to Togekiss. Meant she couldn't play it cute.
Vigant responded with a Power Whip, her arm transforming into a goopy tendril, which shot like a cannonball aimed directly at Machamp's chest. The Fight type's four mighty hands grabbed the whip, fingers sinking into the flesh as it turned and pulled the dragon off balance. Vigant widened her stance and brought herself low to the ground, reclaiming her balance along with her Power Whip. With a powerful pull that capitalised on Machamp's surprise, the dragon ripped the fighter from the floor and levelled a Fire Blast in its face.
The turnabout fuelled a chorus of cheers across the plaza. It was like being slap in the middle of a 360 degree stadium, the air abuzz with excitement. It flowed past Robin as if she were a stationary boulder in a stream, her focus remaining where it was needed. Smoke coiled around the impact point and disguised Machamp's movements. Robin could hear the shouts of the crowd, but they were distant; secondary to her own throbbing pulse. The black haze began its transformation into thin wisps, and Machamp launched itself directly into its opponent.
'ORRRRRA!' the Fight type's booming voice carried over the roaring crowd as the first Ice Punch met its mark. Vigant stood with her arms covering her face, Machamp's fist crushing into her flesh. The skin cracked like stone, enhanced to its maximum level of defence thanks to Acid Armor. 'ORA! ORAORAORAORAORAORA!' Machamp swung again and again. Its four fists worked to perfection, becoming a blur that seemed to multiply their numbers. A hundred fists. A thousand. 'ORAORAORAORAORAORA!'
Ghostly after-images thrashed alongside every blow, sending spiderweb fissures along the Goodra's arms. The dragon slowly frosted over, ice clinging to her upper limbs. Machamp sucked in breath, pulling its best arm back for a singular, finishing blow, roaring, 'ORRRRRA!'
The last Ice Punch in the barrage hit with enough force to create a sonic boom. The floor beneath Goodra's feet shattered along with the ice, which sprayed in all directions, sharp as glass. Machamp dropped to one knee on the followthrough, exhausted from its onslaught. The crowd held its collective breath, silence throughout the plaza except for the distant cries of some pokémon. They all waited for Vigant to topple. Except she didn't. Her body a patchwork of cracks, every inch beaten and battered, she remained standing.
First one to speak was the commentator, who roared into her microphone, 'Goodra endured the hit!' and lit up Centrico Plaza like nothing Robin had ever heard before.
They screamed their applause, their disbelief and anticipation. Vigant coiled her tail and stepped forward. Machamp tried to move, its face dropping in shock when it noticed the goop that now covered its hands, gluing them to the floor. Nothing stood in the Goodra's way as she swung her tail in Outrage, and slammed into Machamp's chest. The Fight type still had chunks of flagstone stuck to its hands when it hit the deck, sliding to a limp stop. The jumbotron's beep rang across the plaza as it declared Robin's victory.
'And the winnerrrr!' the commentator shouted, her magnified voice competing with the crowd's thundering shouts of Un-der-dog! Un-der-dog! 'Give it up for Robin Carella, who wins three rounds to nil!'
She dropped out of the zone, and where she had once been impassive to the crowd's energy, she was now swept up in it and carried along a wave of excitement. Ignoring the look on Omer Massé's face, Robin ran into the middle of the arena and grabbed Vigant by the arm, lifting it in triumph. They shared a bow, the dragon swaying in exhaustion, before Robin recalled Vigant in a whip of red light.
The commentator made her way over while grinning from ear to ear. This time Robin would welcome an interview. Her first impression had gone according to plan. Let the hunt begin. The commentator barely made it halfway when the screaming crowd parted and some skinny kid with an Aipom clinging to his shoulder tripped into the arena and rolled to a stop.
'Aw crud,' he said, pushing himself to his feet as the Aipom scrambled into an upright position. 'This is like, the last place we'd wanna hide in.'
'You!' Massé roared, aiming his finger like a gun. As frustrated as he'd been with Robin, he'd transcended into blind fury upon seeing this kid. Realisation dawned on the teen's face and he grinned back, waving.
'I knew I recognised you! The Machamp guy! How've you been?'
'Now is not the time, Wayne!' the Aipom shrieked. 'We're about to get squished!'
Robin glanced to the crowd, where a trio of Hariyama arced through the air and landed in perfectly synchronised poses. The kid, Wayne, and his talking Aipom recoiled in terror. Robin sighed.
'Okay,' she said, 'obviously your thing kind of spilled into my thing. Ordinarily, that'd be okay, but you do not get to upstage my entrance on my debut! Now step away from that kid!'
'Huh?' said Wayne.
Reptilia manfiested with the throw of a ball. The three Hariyama turned as the release light shone across the arena, and caught sight of Robin's magnificent Noivern as he stood tall, wings spread. The last embers of light vanished and Reptilia closed his wings, his ears sending powerful vibrations through the sudden rush of air. His Boomburst erupted between the three Hariyama, blowing them off their feet.
'Grab hold!' Robin shouted, running over and extending her hand. Wayne glanced at the downed Fight types, who were gathering back to their feet, then took Robin's hand. She got the younger trainer into a run, and leapt to the side, pulling him with her as Reptilia swooped beneath them. With both trainers on the Noivern's back, the pokémon lifted itself into the sky and arced around Prism Tower.
'Oh maaaan, this is so cool,' said Wayne, peering over the edge at the astonished crowd below. 'I need to get one of these dragon bat things. Thanks for rescuing us, lady.'
'Lady? I'm like five years older than you, tops. Name's Robin.'
'Please ignore my human,' the Aipom squeaked from over Wayne's shoulder. 'He's what you might call an idiot.'
'You're naked in public and he's the idiot,' Robin replied, rolling her eyes. Aipom's jaw dropped and it crossed its arms in a sulk. Robin ignored it and turned back to Wayne as Reptilia circled the plaza. 'You okay? I'm gonna make an educated guess and say they had a good reason for chasing you.'
'Oh man, it was terrible. They turned us into their slaves. I had to hold a sign and everything. Then we made our escape, and for a minute I thought we'd be okay, and your battle was pretty cool, but then they found us and we had to run again and they nearly caught us, but then we were saved and now we're here.'
'Ahuh,' Robin nodded. 'Well don't forget to wave to the crowd. This isn't the grand exit I had in mind but it'll do.'
'What exit did you have planned?' Wayne asked as he waved his hand into a blur, glowing when he saw his face in close up on the jumbotron.
'Way more explosions. I had a speech planned and everything,' Robin said, turning face-forward as she gripped Reptilia's collar fur. 'So much for that. I can work it into my acceptance speech later, I guess. Where'd you want dropping off?'
Wayne shrugged. 'I dunno. Anywhere without those Hariyama would be nice.' He glanced to the Aipom. 'Hey, Gremlin, where'd that Zack Redgrave guy go off to? We could go there, maybe. Assuming he didn't go to the festival cause like, we can't go there.'
Robin froze in place. Slowly she looked over her shoulder. 'Did you just say--'
Cyllage City - Zack's Hospital Room
The commentator looked into the camera. For once she had nothing to say, and just stared, open-mouthed, shaking her head. The screen went black, then it went to commercials, then the TV turned off.
's**t,' said Zack.
Lumiose City - Moreau Library
'Everything that's happened lately, it's all connected. That's what my gut's telling me.' Esme looked around the library. The floor was deserted, but she still felt vulnerable talking about these things. A bookshelf could hide eavesdroppers of all shapes and sizes.
'If you need a hand, I'll do what I can. Just promise that if you find out anything related to Allard, you'll let me know. I want to be the one to do it.'
Esme breathed out sharp. 'I'll text you Alexa's details. Be careful.'
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Posted: Tue Dec 22, 2015 1:25 pm
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((Just a wee bit edited at the bottom))
Cyllage City
Allard. That was a name Salieri hadn’t heard in a long time, and as she sighed her heart heaved for Esme. What Sal had taken away from her by the enemy, she was sure she could get back. Allard was gone for good. All that he left behind was his legacy, and the chance for vengeance. Salieri would never deny Esme her revenge. She understood why Esme wouldn’t really give up the cause until that happened.
“You’ll get what you’re owed, Esme. We all will.” Salieri ended up in front of the hospital. “It’s good to have you back. If you need me, just call. Talk to you later.”
She hung up. Having more allies, new and old, was a two way streak for Salieri. For the first time in a long time, she felt like she had people to fall back on that weren’t named Mia. Yet she had already lost so much. Things were only going to get harder from here. She didn’t want to lose anymore. Her training would have to increase exponentially if she wanted to protect her partnerships, friendships…courtships.
Cyllage City Hospital – Matheson’s Room
“And then we made out.”
The nobility’s charity ball for Ambrette Town was to begin shortly at the Pokémon League Castle. With his arm and rib still on the mend, Matheson had a legitimate excuse not to go. Silas, Doran and Jace weren’t so lucky as to have an excuse, and so the three young nobles were dressed in fine suits, sticking out like sore thumbs in the hospital. A quick stop to visit their former acapella club teammate and good friend Math was just the level of procrastination they needed.
“Nice,” Silas said with a thumbs up from the chair at Math’s bedside. Jace looked away, rolling his eyes at the idea of kissing Salieri being a good thing.
“How was it?” Doran asked, scanning the room for a No Smoking sign as if he could find a loophole to a universal hospital rule.
“Good, it was good.” Matheson smiled fondly in recollection. “She’s aggressive…uh, there was one part where her tongue was like, all the way in the back of my mouth and I thought I was gonna gag but I didn’t-“
“Stick to broad strokes,” Jace begged. Doran chuckled at his expense.
“Okay, okay…it’s, uh, been a while since that happened to me. I feel rusty.” Matheson didn’t wait too long to ask his question, not wanting an awkward silence to take over. “Do you guys have some kind of trick to making out?”
The boys got pensive. Matheson wasn’t actually sure how experienced they were, so they were either thinking back on memories or trying to make some up. “You can trace the letters of the alphabet with your tongue in her mouth,” Silas said.
“Really?” they all asked in unison. The chubbier noble nodded, leaning back in the seat.
“I don’t know, I read it in a magazine once. It stimulates her taste buds I think.”
“Whyyyy would you want to do that?” Doran asked. “Taste buds aren’t erogenous zones…are they?”
“I don’t want her to eat my tongue,” Math chimed, sounding genuinely concerned.
“She wouldn’t eat your tongue, she’d just nibble on it.” Silas shrugged. “It’s hot.”
“Is it?” Doran remained skeptical. “Where’d you read this?”
“A magazine?”
“What magazine?” Math asked.
Silas squirmed in his seat. “…Teenbeat.”
“TEENBEAT?”
“I was waiting in my dentist’s office and I was bored and it was either read that or Spinda Monthly, okay?” Silas threw up his hands in defense. “It’s written by girls, I think they know what their erogenous zones are you guys!”
That got Matheson and Doran quiet. They pondered the idea for a second. “So like, any alphabet? Or can you do words?”
“Sexy words work best. Like chocolate, or gazebo, or-“
Jace was tired of conversation about Salieri. It didn’t matter how good Math’s date was with her. Salieri was a violent thug and Matheson was too gentle a judge of character. He tapped his Holocaster to show off the time. “We’re going to be later than we planned on.”
Silas and Doran also checked the time. “Oh damn.” Silas got up and straightened out his ill fitting suit while Doran put a cigarette up behind his ear. “Get well soon, okay man?”
“For sure.” Matheson gave each of them sliding high fives. “Have fun at the ball, boys.”
They all groaned. Jace, the last one out, lingered in the doorway. “Hey man, I know this is going well for you-“
“Yeah, I can see how unhappy you are for me.” Matheson beamed with a grin. “You don’t have to like her for my sake-“
“I know, that’s not it. I can suck it up. I just hope you remember to think with your brain, and not your d**k. You still have a wedding on the horizon.”
Math’s grin faltered at that reminder. He nodded at Jace’s advice. “I’ll keep that in mind.” They gave each other a thumbs up, and Jace was gone.
Now alone, Matheson stared ahead at the wall, thinking on what Jace had said. He lifted up his bedsheets and looked underneath. “Alright buddy,” he said to Matheson Junior. “Let’s brainstorm some more sexy words.”
Kalos Pokémon League Castle
The main hall of the League’s grand castle was more splendid than ever for the nobility’s charity ball, with long white curtains highlighting each of the monolithic stained glass windows and a herd of Litwick hanging from perches on the ceiling, basking the main hall in a warm purple glow. The halls leading to each of the Elite 4’s chambers had been sealed off, as the arena’s were deemed unfit for a party. This was merely a gesture, as the court nobles all had the authority to go as they pleased. However, none of them would venture into these arenas as a courtesy to the authority of the Queen.
The Queen had given a speech from the top of the stairwell leading into the Champion’s chamber about an hour into the ball, when it seemed that most of the guests had arrived. She hit all of the beats that were expected of her, talking of things such as solidarity in the face of hardship and the nobility’s responsibility to elevate those in need.
Juliet hadn’t been listening, though the sound of applause afterwards signified the speech was more or less adequate. That, or the nobles were pandering to the Queen per usual. Juliet was instead more focused on trotting through the ball, fast enough to look like she was doing something and slow enough to look like she might be enjoying herself. Which she wasn’t.
Her shorter hair was up in a bun held together by chopsticks, and she wore a light green, slim sleeveless dress. She was more comfortable in her usual noblewoman’s suit and boots rather than a dress and high heels, but that look wasn’t as inviting. And this was an event about appearances. Which is why everyone craned their neck when she walked by to catch a glimpse of the Shiny Ninetales at her side, graceful with each step that left tiny blue embers behind.
Kallikrates had forbidden herself to speak at the ball in order to keep her ability of speech secret, but a twitch of her head towards a group of nobles in the midst of conversation said more words to Juliet than she needed to hear. It was time to converse. No one would want her to be the next Queen if they didn’t think she was personable. It appeared a potbellied, jolly mustached noble was on the tail end of delivering a joke to the attentive group, so Juliet squeezed her way into the crowd smoothly.
“-and she says to the farmer, ‘No, but I have Krabbys!’ Bwaa hahahaha!” He roared with laughter and the other nobles joined in. Juliet mimicked their laughs, making hers slightly more subdued. When he got over his own joke, the jolly noble put a hand on Juliet’s shoulder. “Juliet Nostrad, lovely to see you! You’re looking magnificent in that dress.”
Juliet leaned in to receive a kiss on her cheek and to give one of her own to his. “Thank you, Earl Dinkler. You’re quite dashing yourself.” It wasn’t exactly true, but Earl Dinkler was the father of one of Matheson’s friends, and one of the nobles who was sincerely nice. She could pretend more easily when someone actually deserved some level of praise. “Where’s Silas?”
“Oh, my boy is on his way now. He went to visit your fiancé.” Earl Dinkler stroked his mustache. “Is Matheson going to be alright?”
“He’ll be just fine,” Juliet told him with confidence. “You know him. He bounces back from anything.”
“What happened to Matheson, dear?” asked one of the noblewomen in the circle.
A hush fell over the conversation. It seemed news of Ratio’s latest attack had been spreading amongst the nobles, no doubt started by her father. Juliet wondered how many details the general nobility were privy to. “What? What did I say?” The noblewoman’s friend pulled her aside from the conversation to explain, and the circle of people closed again.
“I heard he was working with that garish Team Flare, is it true?” one more person asked. The question was met with shrugs.
“I heard the opposite was true, and he was simply there for a massacre. So dreadful.”
“There is already enough sorrow in Kalos as it is. Ambrette Town is a grave reminder. It’s a miracle nobody died,” Earl Dinkler said. “Let’s not forget why we’re all here tonight. This isn’t a time for celebration. It’s time for reflection. Sometimes I feel I forget that myself…I must do better in the future…”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself.” Juliet cleared her throat. “I believe we should take what’s in the past with us to build a brighter future for Ambrette Town. We mustn’t forget what was lost, but we cannot dwell on tragedy, or the destiny of that town will be built on a foundation of sadness. We must have hope. It is up to us to be the guiding hand for Kalos.”
What she said was met with sage nods and murmurs of agreement. Kallikrates gave her a wink and a nudge, and Juliet saw a Mienshao pass by with a tray full of champagne. She flagged down the Mienshao and each member of the conversation took a glass. “My friends, let’s toast to Ambrette Town’s new and improved future.”
“Here here!” the Earl bellow, and everyone drank. Juliet’s Holocaster buzzed at her wrist. An inopportune time, but not the worst.
“Please excuse me, I have to take this. It was wonderful to watch up with you all.” Juliet back away from the conversation and to a quieter corner of the room with Kallikrates in tow. With no one looking at her face now, she dropped the false royal smile she put on for the Earl and his friends. When she was as isolated as she’d get in the full ballroom, she answered the call.
“Captain Farnell. I didn’t expect you to call me so soon,” she spoke into the microphone. “Do you have something for me?”
The blue hologram of Cyllage City’s stern police captain crackled to life. “My team was able to recover four of the traps for you. They’re still live. We have meteor fragments as well. Would you like them delivered to the Chateau, Lady Nostrad?”
“I’d be very grateful for that,” Juliet said with her airy tone she used when she mad to make an impression. The hologram of the Captain seemed antsy. “Is there something else?”
“…yes, actually. My team also delved into the meteor patterns from yesterday to today. The meteor that almost hit Route 10 was just a fragment of a larger one knocked off course during atmospheric entry. It’s structural integrity was compromised greatly.”
“Interesting.” Juliet rose an eyebrow. “What are you getting at, Captain?”
“It was only because that meteor was a weaker fragment slowed down by a change of course that your Scizor was able o destroy it…but there was no way you could have known that.” The Captain stood up straighter. “I appreciate greatly that you saved my team. But with all due respect, Lady Nostrad, you had no right commanding my people and myself to stay put in the face of certain doom.”
Juliet dropped her tiny noble smile, matching Captain Farnell’s stern look with her own. “I took command of the situation when no one else did.”
“You took away the right to choose. You gambled with people’s lives on the hunch that you had enough power to save them, and you had no authority to do so-”
“My authority is granted to me by the holy mandate of the Kalos Court, Captain, and you’d be wise to hold your tongue. To slap away the hand of your savior is most dishonorable,” Juliet told him, keeping herself level despite the annoyance. “You’re quite lucky my father isn’t around to hear this.”
The Captain looked like he wanted to say more, but he stopped himself. “My apologies, Lady Nostrad. I’ll deliver your packages right now.”
“Thank you. Goodnight Captain Farnell.”
The hologram faded away. Juliet stared at the Holocaster’s blank screen. “Not very Queenly of you, Lady Nostrad,” hissed Kallikrates with a foxy grin.
Juliet snarled at her. “Shut up, Kali.” She made her way to the other end of the ball, where she found a lonely pillar to stand in silence. Sweeping classical music played from a live orchestra situated where the Queen had given her speech. Couples danced together, friends danced with each other.
Juliet danced with no one.
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Posted: Thu Dec 24, 2015 1:23 pm
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((EDITED: I've made the slightest of changes, hopefully makes things easier to read/better. And now you know what song Mia was listening to))
Lumiose City – Hotel Richissime
“Room service.”
The maid knocked on the door to the penthouse again. “Room service.” Horton Balibar had been very specific about his order on the phone and his desire for a speedy delivery. Noble clientele’s whims always got prioritized, so Tara had to drop everything she was doing to send up his dinner. When he was in the lobby that morning he had been polite but brisk with the reporters. When the cameras were gone he became stuffier, sending constant demands down to the hotel staff. His security team had taken up residence on the top floor. Tara counted about six guards that she passed on her way here.
It was all very showy and annoying. But Tara swallowed her agitation, as a client as rich as him would leave a good tip. She’d need them if she were to pay off her student loans.
Tara almost knocked a third time, but the door cautiously swung open courtesy of a large muscular man with a buzzcut in a suit and sunglasses holding a Seadra like a rifle at his side. “Let her in already, Randall,” came Horton’s voice from inside. Randall held the door open, and Tara pushed the food cart inside.
Inside, another security guard steam pressed a suit on an iron while a third paced on the balcony. Tara wondered if there was a machine that made cookie cutter copies of guards, because these two looked basically the same as Randall to her. Horton Balibar himself was lounging on the couch with a glass of wine. Judging by his crooked glasses and the tinge of pink to his cheeks, he was tipsy. “Not a minute too late. Richissime’s reputation is well deserved. Well, let’s see it.”
Tara circled around the cart. A white tablecloth was draped atop it, cloaking the sides, and on top of that was a covered platter. Tara lifted the cover, showing off an impressive array of meats and pasta. She lifted up the cover on the side to show a covered pot of what she presumed was some kind of stew. No doubt some of this food was for his security team.
Horton nodded in approval and pointed his glass of wine at the kitchen area. Some of it sloshed over, dripping onto the carpet. He noticed, but said nothing. “Leave it all there.”
Tara put the platter onto the counter. She heaved the pot of stew off the cart, which was far heavier than it seemed. Too heavy for her to lift on her own. The struggle was evident, but the guards did nothing. They looked to Horton for a command. Finally, he sighed. “Help her, for Arceus’ sake.”
Randall and the guard with the iron worked together to carry the cauldron sized pot onto the counter. Tara, slightly embarrassed, waited on Horton to say more just like his guards did. “Thank you, that’ll be all.”
She lingered, expecting the tip. It became clear that wasn’t going to happen. Tara was about to leave, but perhaps she lingered for too long because Horton took notice. “Oh. I’m sorry. You were expecting a tip, weren’t you?”
“Oh, no, I…” She couldn’t lie, but she didn’t want to say it. Horton chuckled in a weary old man way and stood up, balancing himself precariously.
“You expected to be rewarded. That’s normal, of course. You should make what you earn.” Horton smiled and circled around to a bag on the coffee table that he rifled through.
“Thank you, sir.”
“You know what I earn?” Horton asked without looking at Tara. “I make enough a year to buy this hotel two times over. I’m a noble, of a Court house no less. I earned that.” He laughed. “And you, you’ve pushed a large cart into an elevator and down a hall. What do you earn from that?”
He took two handfuls of coins from the bag and walked up to Tara, getting very close to the young maid. She shifted, feeling vulnerable but too nervous to simply leave. Such defiance in the face of a Balibar could get her fired.
Horton flicked a coin at Tara, who reflexively caught it. “Not enough?” He flicked another, and another, until he simply threw all of them at the poor girl who couldn’t keep up. Even the guards looked uncomfortable at the sight of it. She stumbled backwards, her face feeling hot and her eyes welling with tears.
“There. You’re lucky I’m feeling generous today. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a ball to be fashionably late for. So get out.”
Tara couldn’t have left fast enough. In all the mean spirited quiet that fell after her departure, no one noticed that the cover on the stew was being pushed off by a force inside the pot, and a thick purple goo was seeping over the sides.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The building across the street from the hotel wasn’t built as tall, so Moze found himself looking up through his binoculars at the window of the top floor penthouse. The same penthouse he stayed in the night before, and the same penthouse Horton Balibar stayed in now. Horton Balibar, skeevy politician and secret drug kingpin. Ruining the lives on the people who needed his help. Moze gripped his binoculars so hard they nearly cracked. No, not his help. They need MY help.
“Zephyr is in. That was easy.”
The sun was down but there was enough light provided by the city for Moze to see clearly. There was a guard keeping watch at the balcony. The penthouse’s bed was positioned right next to it so the patron could see the Lumiose skyline. Right now Horton was at the dining table eating dinner.
Shepard Fairey got excited when the guard on the balcony went inside. “Cott cott!’ he squeaked through his frozen grin, tugging on Moze’s arm. He was ready to go in now. Moze shook his head.
“New plan. We don’t extract through the balcony, we use the front door.” Shepard Fairey tilted his head, intrigued but confused. Moze’s eyes darkened, and his voice lowered. “I want him to know we’re coming. I want them all to know we’re coming. They need to be afraid.”
He gestured to the front door of the hotel down on the sidewalk. “Go do your thing. I’ll be there in a minute.”
Shepard Fairey enjoyed this turn of events. He snickered, showing off his pointy teeth before disappearing in a gust of wind, leaving only balls of fluff behind. Moze leaned against an air conditioning unit, where no one could see him, and opened up his backpack. He stared at the contents, hesitant to take them out. One more look at Horton through the window, and he found the resolve to empty the backpack.
In front of him was a sleek set of armor, a billowy black cloak, and a white mask. Moze held up the mask to his face. It felt like the mask was looking back at him. This is your life now. Might as well try to enjoy it,
Moze forced himself to smile.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mia had been told by her boss to always remain aware of her surroundings, in case a customer needed something from her. In the hallway where her boss wasn’t around, Mia swept with her headphones on, bopping to a tune no one else could hear. It made the busywork much more bearable. What she really wanted was a break so she could smoke a spliff with her Noibat outside, but that wasn’t happening any time soon. The working grind was no fun, but she was sure once she got paid the pros would outweigh the cons. And as much as she didn’t want to admit it, she needed a break from Gotengo and the wackiness that came with being Salieri’s best friend.
A few puffs of cotton drifted into the hallway, adding to the dust Mia had to sweep already. She took it in stride, thinking about what Salieri had said to her on the phone while going through the sweeping motions. Her willingness to keep Moze’s secret from Sal was lower than ever. It was too complicated not to tell Sal, and the fallout would be devastating if she found out on her own that Mia did in fact know where her AWOL brother was, and was dating him to boot. I need to call him, can’t wait till the last straw drops.
More cotton balls came down the hall, in higher frequency. “The hell?” Mia grumbled. Slightly annoyed, she dropped the broom and came out of the hallway into the main foyer.
Cottonballs floated everywhere, drifting through the air with no regard to gravity. No one was saying a thing about it because everyone in the foyer was asleep, including the hotel security. The temps at the front desk were slumped on the desk itself, everyone on the couches was laying down. People were even sleeping on the floor. Mia’s eyes grew wide. She took off her headphones. It was eerily silent except for the muzak. That, and something else…
She began to hear a ringing noise, almost like giggling children. It sounded far away but the more she heard it, the sleepier she felt. Thinking quick, Mia put her headphones back on and switched off the music. The noise cancelling did its job, keeping Mia safe from the ringing. The scientist in her wanted to know what was going on. The savvy teenager in her wanted to call the cops and get out of there as soon as possible. The cottonballs bobbed around, brushing against people without pattern. They didn’t seem dangerous, so Mia plucked one out of the air, examining it. “Huh.”
Even with the headphones on, she heard a sound much louder than the ringing: footsteps pounding down the stairs. Four suited guards for some noble politician came into the foyer, Pokéballs at the ready. Reflexively Mia ducked behind the desk, and poked her head out to watch. The elevator opened, and two more guards came out for a total of six. None of them were wearing anything to block out the sound, but they were fine. Mia took off the headphones. The ringing had ceased, yet everyone sleeping remained that way.
“No sight of the culprit, Randall,” a bald guard said into a receiver. He was given orders only he could hear and gave military gestures to the other five guards. The got into position, two on the stairs and four near the door. “Copy, scanning the lobby now.”
“Co~tt!” Everyone, including the hidden Mia, looking up and saw a Whimsicott swinging from the chandelier. The front door slid open, the muzak transitioned into the radio, and everyone’s attention turned again.
In walked a Creature, adorned with a black knightly armor and a black cloak that billowed behind him. The hood of the cloak was pulled up and the Creature’s face was covered in a white mask with thick black lenses. A sword was sheathed at his side. The way his head subtly moved was almost like he was nodding to the beat of the song.
“Don’t move!” the bald guard commanded. “Hands in the air!” The Creature did no such thing, taking a single defiant step.
All the guards cocked back their arms and let their Pokéballs fly. Or they would have, if the Pokéballs hadn’t been replaced by similar sized cotton balls at the last second. Confused, the guards looked around for their missing balls. Shepard Fairey snickered from above, holding the missing Pokéballs in his huge white mane after his rapid fire Switcheroos.
Before they could properly react, the Creature was upon them, sucker punching a guard in the stomach and face with his steel gauntlets, grabbing him before he fell, and headbutting him to the floor. One down, five to go.
The bald guard lifted up his receiver. “Randall, it’s-“ He was stopped before he could say more by a hyper dense cottonball flying into his mouth, choking him. He struggled to get it all out while his other guards dove into combat with the Creature.
Two guards tried to grab him but he was too quick for them, spinning and shuffling around their attempts and over the few sleeping bodies in the middle of the lobby. From behind the desk, Mia noticed the Creature’s dodges were in rhythm to the song on the radio. In fact, when he shuffled away, it wasn’t an ordinary shuffle. He was moonwalking. Whoever this was, they were trying to enjoy making the guards look like fools.
One of the guards must have noticed because he grunted with rage and moved in for a full on chokehold. The Creature allowed himself to get grabbed, only to reverse it and flip the guard over his shoulders onto the floor. The Creature caught, and then twisted, the guard’s leg, breaking it so the bone poked out of the skin. The guard screamed in pain and horror. The Creature kept walking.
The other guards wised up and brought out their reserve Pokéballs. An olive green haired guard released a Heracross that wasted no time spitting out Bullet Seeds upon seeing The Creature, taking great care not to hit the sleeping civilians. The Creature dove over a couch and uprooted a table as the seeds shattered the ceramic floor tiles in his wake. The seeds pelted the table, brutalizing it in short order. His cover would be gone in seconds. The Creature shifted a sleeping body over to safety and took out a Pokéball of his own. In a flash of red light, a bird swooped out from the cover.
The Talonflame tackled Heracross with a flying kick so hard that the beetle dented the wall it slammed into. Jester followed up his kick with a fiery Wing Attack slap that knocked Heracross to the ground. With his target out cold, Jester flapped up, showering embers with each shift of his wings that burned the surrounding cottonballs into ashes and blowing the olive green haired guard back to the stairs.
Mia felt a rush of wind go over her head as she ducked back down behind the desk. There was no safe way out of the hotel. From this angle, any step she took out from behind the desk would result in that man seeing her. If that Whimsicott was what put everyone in the lobby to sleep then it meant the Creature wasn't out to hurt civilians, just the guards. Would that change if he saw her? Maybe she was a liability since she was awake. Maybe she could become a hostage.
I need to call the police. She flipped out her phone and dialed.
Two of the guards released a Poliwrath and a Pidgeot. Poliwrath destroyed what was left of the table with a thrown Mud Bomb and Pidgeot swooped in to attack, The Creature dropped another Pokéball, releasing a Magnezone that swiped Pidgeot to the side with the spin of a Gyro Ball. Pidgeot, having just taken a magnet slam to the gut, was thrown off balance. It gave Dondi the Magnezone the opening it needed to shoot the bird down with a Thunderbolt, ending the Flying type’s part in the fight.
“The cameras,” the Creature said. Dondi floated higher to a nexus of security cameras. Its magnets whirled, created an electromagnetic field that knocked the video feeds offline. Mia's phone restarted as well.
"Merde," she whispered harshly to no one. She'd have to wait for it to return to life. In the meantime she poked her head out from behind the desk to check on the Creature's location, just in time to see him nod to his Magnezone.
"Do it, Dondi."
The magnets spun. An invisible electromagnetic field rippled from Dondi’s body, stretching out a few feet all around it. The guards and Poliwrath hesitated to make a move. They found themselves blinking back a sudden onset of tears, and the usually Damp Poliwrath found himself feeling very dry. Mia was perplexed by this phenomenon, until she recalled what she knew about the Magnemite line and their electromagnetic fields. Quickly, she buried her face into her shirt and closed her eyes.
Shortly after that, the moisture in the guards' eyeballs started to boil.
“My EYES!” screamed one of the guards, as he and his allies all clutched their faces in pain and dropped to their knees. The Creature stepped over to one of the guards and grabbed his Pokéball, returning the Poilwrath. With two swift kicks from his greaves to their downed heads, the Creature knocked out the guards while they were down. Dondi turned off its Evaporation Field and the Creature focused on the stairs.
The bald guard finally got the dense cotton puff out of his mouth, gasping for air. He and the olive green haired guard got ready to let out more Pokémon, only for Jester to shoot two flaming feathers at them with a single flap of a wing. The firey darts knocked the Pokéballs to the floor, and before they could be retrieved, the Creature dashed at them.
Between the two of them he leaned and swayed away from their punches, his eyes glowing blue with Aura behind his mask. The Creature grabbed Baldy’s throat and switched places with him, pulling him back into Olive. When Baldy fell down, the Creature ran at the wall against the stairs, jumping high off of it and spinkicking a greave into his chest, breaking a rib and knocking him over the railing.
Olive scrambled away up the steps. The Creature followed him slowly, giving Olive enough time to release one more Pokémon: a Magmortar. “Stop right there! I mean it!”
Shepard Fairey hung onto the Creature’s shoulder, appearing so suddenly it was like he was always there. Magmortar’s hand opened up to reveal a natural cannon. It glowed a warm orange, charging up a fireball. The Creature kept walking. “Fire!”
Magmortar launched a fireball at the two of them, but they were gone. In reality, they had been hypercompressed to the size of a thumbtack and zipped under the fireball at speeds so fast only fellow speed demon Jester could see. They decompressed rapidly, closer than before and getting closer. Olive and his Magmortar both thought it was some kind of teleportation. The Blast Pokémon fired two more times, and each time the Creature and Shepard dodged it the same way. They zipped past a fireball and zipped under the Blast Pokémon’s legs. Now they were past Magmortar, right in front of the guard. The Creature grabbed Olive’s tie and wrapped it around his neck, and with the other hand, returned Magmortar to its ball. Olive’s eyes rolled back as he passed out and the Creature dropped him to the ground. The last of the guard was down.
No one who had been asleep had woken up during the fight that lasted less than two minutes. Six incapacitated guards, all unconscious except for the groaning ones with the broken bones, were down with them.
The screen on Mia's phone lit up, back to life, and she immediately dialed the police, not taking her eyes off the Creature. He surveyed the scene, making sure no stone was left unturned as he returned his Talonflame and Magnezone. His vigilance served him well: he heard the clacking of keys on her phone.
Mia ducked back down, becoming still as stone. Only her labored breath betrayed her. She could hear his steel footsteps getting closer. She had been found.
The Creature looked behind the desk and saw Mia looking back at him, frozen in fear with her phone in hand and on call. “Hello? Miss, what’s your emergency? Can you say where you are?” Mia couldn’t answer, unable to take an eye off the fighting machine in front of her. “Please respond-”
In the next beat the Creature threw a pencil off the desk, lodging it into the phone’s center with pinpoint accuracy. The phone broke and the call ended. Mia shrieked and fell back, gulping. “Get away, w-what do you want?” she asked.
The Creature stood staring at Mia shirking in fear from him. He tilted his head, and Mia tried to understand what was going on behind his mask. Was he deciding how to deal with her? Of course he was. But what was the emotion behind it? Was there any at all? Mia found herself thinking of Moze, how strong he was, and how if he was here she wouldn't be so scared.
Finally the Creature stepped away. “Get out of here.” He walked to the elevator while Mia watched him leave, breathless.
“Teehee~!”
She startled back from Shepard Fairey suddenly hovering circles around her. The Whimsicott watched her fear, giggling again, and flew into the elevator with the Creature. The doors closed.
Mia took a few seconds to get over the surreal feeling. She stumbled to her feet, swiping the cellphone off a sleeping coworker, and called the cops again while trying to shake people awake.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Before the elevator reached the top floor, Moze sensed two Auras waiting at the door. Guards, most likely. “Leave them alive.” Shepard Fairey slipped out the crack in the closed door.
The elevator opened seconds later. One of the guards was a shade of Toxic purple, hobbling around the hall trying to rip off the dense mask of cotton that covered his eyes and ears while also throwing up. The other guard was nowhere to be seen, but Moze could feel his Aura emanating from the inside of a vase on a decorative table. The vase was full of something black, white and smushed. It wiggled back and forth, and from the top of the vase was a faint human cry for help.
Shepard giggled, bobbing in the air around the puking guard to watch from all angles. Moze tried very hard not to step on any bile as he went down the hall.
Going down this hallway and making a left to the end of the next one would bring him to the penthouse. The closer he got, the easier it became to sense the Auras of Horton and his guards. One guard was left conscious, and Moze could sense him pressed up against the wall in the next hallway, waiting for him to come around the corner.
Moze unbuckled his sword from his belt and rolled out into the hallway intersection. Still inside its steel sheath, the sword was jabbed into the guard’s gut, causing him to double over. Moze rose with an uppercut, knocking the guard back up to standing position. In one fluid motion he drew his sword and stabbed it through the guard’s leg, and in another fluid motion put the blade back in its sheath. The guard fell to the floor, unable to walk from the pain.
Moze stepped over the guard’s body to the door at the end of the hall. Shepard Fairey popped out from under the black cloak, slipped into the keyhole, and unlocked the door. They quietly entered the penthouse.
The main room was a disarray of overturned furniture and loose knick knacks. It was covered in blotches of purple slime that dripped from the ceiling and walls. The last of the guards were out cold, pinned to the TV and the bedroom door by thick blankets of goo and unable to move with only their heads free for breath.
Horton Balibar was just as compromised. The red faced noble was cocooned in goo on the couch, reluctantly sitting next to a Goodra that had taken his wine glass. Moze’s Goodra, Zephyr, sipped on the wine with a cute smile on her face.
She waved at Moze. Moze waved at her. Zephyr gave him a thumbs up, and Moze gestured to her eyes and then the door. Zephyr nodded, finished the wine, and gave Horton a pat on the back before she skipped to the front door with a "La~la~la~!" She hummed while she covered the door in a sheet of goo. Shepard Fairey floated next to Moze as he walked very slowly at Horton.
“Get away from me!” Horton spat at Moze, terrified. “I’m not someone you can ******** with!”
Moze ignored him, spinning around and admiring the penthouse. "The view here must be nice." He circled around the couch, sliding his glvoed fingers along the wall while looking out the window. "I never understood why it was so costly to be up this high. Sure, this room is nice, but you take away the polish, the branding..." He made a wide gesture with his arms. "You could make a room feel just as nice in a treehouse, you know. It's not so different, is it?"
"What do you want? Money?" Horton was calming himself down, playing the one card he could play. "Is it money you want? I can get you riches you've never even dreamed of."
"Of course I haven't dreamed of riches." Moze scoffed behind his mask, shaking his head in pity. "Money is just a means to an end. What a waste of a dream, you stupid, stupid man."
He reached into the bag on the table, pulling out a jar of coins. Moze had seen him throw coins from this jar at some poor maid just minutes ago from across the street. He wondered if Horton made one of his guards carry around this jar just so the noble could make a show of how much money he had.
"Here." Moze flicked a coin from the jar at Horton. It embedded itself on the goo cocoon. "...huh. I thought that would do something. You did think money would save you from me, right?" His disguised voice dripped with bitter sarcasm. "Let's test that theory."
Moze pelted a coin at Horton, at his face this time. Then another, and another, taking steps closer to hit harder. Horton closed his eyes in a vain attempt to shield some part of himself from the shower of coins. Finally, Moze grabbed Horton by the hair, pulled his head back, and dumped the rest of the jar onto the noble's head. The coins cascaded down him, some clinking to the floor, others sticking to the goo, and a few making their way down Horton's throat.
He paused, allowing Horton to cough heavily as he fully swallowed the coins he accidentally ingested. Then he slapped Horton across the face, drawing blood with a small scratch from his gauntlets. Horton yelped. Moze sighed. "Well. So much for that plan, right Horton?"
"Why..." Horton's voice was raspy and small. He was a shell of the boastful, cruel man who was just eating dinner before this all happened. "Why are you doing this?"
Moze could hear police sirens outside the hotel on the streets below, no doubt closing in on Hotel Richissime. There wasn’t much time to lose. Zephyr finished coating the door with slime and was returned to her ball. Moze pinched some of the slime wrapped around Horton with his steel gauntlets and used it to cover Horton’s mouth, silencing his cries.
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When the police arrived minutes later, and managed to break through the Gooey sealed door of the penthouse minutes after that, they found the room contained great signs of struggle and two unconscious guards. Horton Balibar and the perpetrators were gone.
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Posted: Thu Dec 31, 2015 7:25 pm
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((Ohhhh shhiiitttttt! Guys, do yourself a favour and REMAIN IN 2015. 2016 has way too many killer zombie robot nazis and humanity is ******** incoming---Post is here
Also, 2016 has legitimately sucked thus far. What the hell.))
Route 5 - Versant Hills
Fire erupted in the pit, and Robin snapped her lighter shut with a click. The cold was setting in now, on the Versant Hills, as the sunset receded into bluish purple. They hurried to make camp, dug in close to a good-sized boulder that still afforded decent visibility. Lumiose City shone in the distance, a famous assortment of bright light in twinkling rows that converged on Prism Tower like an enormous flower. Kalosian grass poked between Robin's fingers, and she pulled out a handful, then let it fall into the flames. First day in a new land, and so much more to find. Wayne was back with his Aipom.
'Heeeey!' shouted the trainer as he emerged from the nearby woodland with a stack of kindling in his arms. The Aipom, Gremlin or whatever, hung on his shoulder holding a twig. 'We did it! And there's more where that came from.'
'Thanks, Wayne,' Robin said as he dropped the bundle of sticks and branches almost in her lap. She rifled through them, picked one up, and frowned as she turned it over. 'These are still wet.'
'Chopped 'em right off the trees myself,' Wayne said proudly, sitting opposite. 'Or I guess Ronin did, but I definitely told him to do it.'
Robin opened her mouth to speak, but decided better. The Aipom watched her with narrowed eyes, so she returned the look. He dropped his twig on the fire then plopped himself before it, arms folded in a huff.
'I said you should cut them yourself,' Robin knelt over the stack of wood, not caring that her knees were getting dirty, and began sorting the spoils by size. 'What'll you do if you get stuck without your pokémon one day?'
'Uh,' Wayne said. He scratched his chin. 'Catch new ones I guess.'
'And if you're out of pokéballs?' Robin set the thicker branches to one size and gathered the thinner kindling in her arm.
'Buy them?' Wayne guessed. 'No, befriend the local pokémon. Wait. Oh, you have a good point.'
'Of course I do,' said Robin as she went around the fire pit, placing the kindling in a circle a few inches from the flames. They'd dry out before long. She held out her hand, but all she got from Wayne was a blank look. She sighed. 'Saw.'
'Oh right, yeah,' Wayne patted himself down, then pulled a handheld saw from his pocket. It resembled a folding knife, except the edge was serrated. Robin opened it; sure enough the blade was still clean. She took a few dry bark shavings from her tinderbox, dropped them on the fire, then got to work cutting the larger branches into segments so they'd burn better.
'Man, where'd you learn all this stuff?' said Wayne after watching for a while.
'Cerulean Pokémon Academy,' Robin answered without looking up. 'That and life, I guess. How long you been training?'
Wayne counted off his fingers then said. 'Four years-ish.'
'And you've never had to camp before?'
'I've slept outside a couple times. Never with like, actual heat.' Wayne shrugged. 'But that's why we have Pokémon Centers. That and for healing. Beds are important but healing is like, ten times as important. Especially if you're a pokémon.'
'You're limiting yourself,' Robin said, tossing Wayne a small log and a knife that landed at his side. 'Strip the wet bark from that. I wouldn't use a Center if I could help it.'
'Why, because you hate basic comfort?' squeaked the Aipom. Gremlin's sulky lip stuck out as he glowered at both trainers. 'Camping sucks. The outdoors? They suck. You humans, all the civilisation in the world and you choose to sleep on the floor.'
Robin set down her saw. 'You're right. I'm forcing you to be here. You know, if you want you can go. Next town's about an hour that way. Less if you use Agility.'
Gremlin looked at where Robin pointed, but there was nothing. The sun had fully set, and the darkness crawled in close to their fire, chill and silent, bar the occasional screech from the forest. The Aipom folded his arms and muttered under his breath.
'Thought so.' Robin picked up a piece of kindling and flexed it. Stiff and dry. She began adding them to the fire. The flames crackled with greedy little snaps and pops.
'I don't get it,' Wayne said, sawing at the bark with his knife. He had chopped out a ton of uneven lumps, but at least he'd tried. 'I always thought Pokémon Centers were the best thing ever. Free food, free beds, amazing toilets...'
Robin frowned. How to put it? 'Wayne, you want to be a good trainer, don't you?'
'Well, I'm already a Pokémon Master but that's neither here nor there,' Wayne grinned. Robin didn't shift her look, and Wayne's expression sank a little. 'I mean, yeah. I do.'
'The trick to being good, really good, at anything,' Robin said, placing another branch on the fire, 'is to start with the fundamentals. Fully understand what you're doing, why you're doing it. Centers are nice, but they'll do everything for you. Warm beds,' she glanced at Gremlin, 'are very nice, but be careful you don't turn into a tourist. Make things hard once in a while, use your hands. It's discipline, you know?'
'Discipline,' Wayne turned the word over.
'Just my thoughts,' Robin said. She stacked the remaining wood behind her backpack and away from the embers, then took out a pair of item balls. The first released a blue sleeping bag, and she tossed the second to Wayne. 'Always carry a spare. Night, Wayne.'
Pokémon League Castle
The social ladder was a tricky thing. Always a way to advance, assuming you learned to duck when people fell off. Severin doubted that in all the sycophants in all the nobles attending Queen Antoinette's speech, there was a one who hadn't come with a plan. A Court noble was dead, a town destroyed, and a vacuum begging to be filled. For all the talk of solidarity and responsibility, the clowns wouldn't pass this chance to further their ambitions. They'd climb the ladder, kicking and pulling in desperate fervour.
Despicable, really. Not that he could blame them.
Severin traced his hand along the balcony. It bordered the main hall, a sort of false storey that led onto the parapet by way of stained glass doors. From here he could see everything. Queen Antoinette descending the steps, flanked by the Quillon; all six clad in their ceremonial armour. The kitten's razor claws. There were the Court heads sat around the hall, the masses of nobles crowding around them, hedging their bets with shark-toothed promises. The lesser nobles, dressed in their flowery attempts at high fashion, and the servants rushing to cater to them, filled out the floor. Someone placed their hand on Severin's shoulder, and turned him around.
'You ought to take your eyes off her, or you may not get them back,' whispered a tall, dark-haired young man in the same white waiter's uniform as Severin.
'Why Theo, whatever do you mean,' Severin said, stepping away from the balcony. It was relatively quiet up here, away from the higher nobility. Severin picked his serving tray off the nearby table and slid it over his splayed fingers, balancing effortlessly.
'You know bloody well what I mean,' Theo said with a wink. 'Our young majesty already has her quota of admirers, and I'd imagine those Quillon might learn a thing or two if Monsieur Beauthane found you neglecting your duties. He's in crucifixion mode.'
'Ah,' said Severin. 'I wondered what particular brand of torture the good man had in store.'
'The iron maiden was starting to lose its pizazz, wasn't it?' Theo grinned as they reached the double doors that lead downstairs. 'Well, once more unto the breach and all that.'
'I shall tell your family of your bravery.'
'Be sure you do.' Theo said with mock resignation. 'Goodbye, Severin, my friend. It's been an honour serving by your side.'
With that, they parted ways. Theo downstairs left Severin to attend upstairs. He took his tray of hors d’oeuvres onto the parapet overlooking the front gardens. The sky gleamed like a bed of jewels, mirrored in flowing rivers that pointed west, towards Lumiose City. Sparse groups of nobility dotted the outer balcony, talking in conspirational whispers and flanked by severe-looking guard pokémon.
Severin unlocked a large serving cart and replaced his serving tray with another. He stacked it with wine flutes and filled them with a decent vintage. Smaller gatherings had to be careful with the wine they served; though most couldn't discern good wine from dishwater, more than a few nobles considered themselves connoisseurs, and serving substandard wine was a good way to deal an unintentional insult. Large balls like this had more leeway, especially when the royal family was host. Severin still had to brace himself for complaints. He was, sadly, the messenger in this shooting gallery.
---
Perfume drifted from the main entrance in a soft cloud. A scent so familiar she was sick of it. Dark, sweet, and thick like toffee, a scent that made everyone near the door turn around. It was a familiar scent, a court scent. Each house had a unique fragrance, like a coat of arms, which was memorised by the trained Spritzee that now danced in annoying zipping patterns as a hush went over the nearby nobles. The herald, who looked quite like a Spritzee himself, stepped forward.
'Presenting,' he droned, 'Lady Elizabeth of the House Leroux.'
The applause that usually followed the arrival of a Court noble was telling in its absence. Slowly it gathered, one clap at a time, until the initial falter was almost forgotten. Elizabeth was soon bombarded by words of sympathy, faces in her face hoping for recognition. For now was the perfect time to barge into her good graces.
'So sorry to hear of your father's passing-'
'Our hearts at House Boulle go out to you-'
'We've always been staunch supporters of House Leroux-'
'-With you in this trying time.'
Elizabeth passed through them all, none daring to truly interrupt her passage. She disappeared into the mass of colour that constituted the latest in high fashion. Though some nobles dressed more conservatively, there were the occasional men and women who had apparently taken their tips directly from the more abstract of catwalks. Elizabeth could have sworn she saw at least one person dressed like a candle.
For her part, Viro had decided on a simple, yet sleek, black dress that would accentuate Elizabeth's more womanly curves and fair skin. At her waist was a long red ribbon that had been looped at her hip like a trailing belt. It would connote an air of grief, along with a reminder of her fiery ferocity, apparently.
She looked for Elliot. He would likely be somewhere near the live orchestra, so she headed towards it, conscious of the glances shooting her way. House Leroux was the house of scandal these days. One member murdered and the other involved in some sort of accident. Oh my. She might forgive the lesser nobility for being frightened by the idea of an unstoppable murderer, but she wasn't in a very forgiving mood lately. Ratio could be stopped. It was dangerous, yes, but she would find a way. What else was there?
'Lady Elizbeth,' Cédric said respectfully, and with a twitch of his moustache. 'Fashionably late. A spectacular choice.'
'You're hilarious,' Elizabeth said to the butler as she reached the high table nearest the orchestra. If Cédric was here, then Elizabeth had guessed correctly. Elliot was close.
As if reading her mind, Cédric said, 'I'm afraid Lord Leroux is busy at present. Would you enjoy a refreshment?'
He snapped his fingers and summoned a tall, dark-haired waiter who extended a tray of wine with only a hint of a smile.
'No,' said Elizabeth. 'I want to speak to Elliot. Where is he?'
'Lord Leroux is in a meeting with another Court head,' Cédric smiled. Even with her rank, Elizabeth wouldn't be able to push her way into such a meeting. 'He won't be back for some time.'
'Elizabeth!' shouted a small voice full of excitement. Elizabeth frowned at Cédric, who responded with a deep nod, then skirted around the table. She had been summoned by young Master Simeon Leroux and his shadow, Master Timothy, who waved his tiny fingers while sucking milkshake through a straw. They sat at a high table, reserved for Court nobles and their guests. The Leroux table was close to capacity, filled by high ranked nobles from other Houses and some lesser Leroux cousins.
Simeon beamed at her from his chair, his white-blond hair gleaming over a tailored, dark red suit that made him look like a mini-Elliot. 'Elizabeth! Isn't this party fantastic!'
'Hello, boys,' Elizabeth said, dredging up goodwill she didn't feel. 'Oh, this must be your first real ball, mustn't it?'
'It's amazing. All these people,' Simeon grinned. 'I hope father brings us to more just like this one.'
'I saw a candle,' said Timothy in his quiet voice.
'These parties are important,' Elizabeth said, exaggerating her voice in the way she knew they liked. 'You'll come to so many, you'll soon beg your father not to take you.'
'Never,' Simeon said, his eyes sparkling as he looked around the room. And of course, why wouldn't he be excited? All these people coming to tell him how wonderful he is.
'Boys,' said Elizabeth, leaning in close, 'do either of you know just where your father has gone? I'd very much like to speak with him.'
'I don't know,' said Timothy, almost inaudibly.
'Perhaps mother might,' said Simeon. 'Mother!'
Lady Mariette Leroux wasn't far from her children. Elegant and beautiful; the kind of noblewoman Elizabeth was expected to be. Her attention was with the dark-haired young waiter who had offered Elizabeth a drink. Apparently he had said something to her liking, as Lady Leroux was red-faced and smiling as she took a sip of wine. It took another round of shouts from Simeon to get her attention. When she saw Elizabeth, she lit up.
'Mariette,' Elizabeth cut her off, 'Have you any idea where Elliot might be? I'd like to catch him before he's whisked away to another meeting.'
Before she replied, Lady Mariette dismissed the waiter with a wave of her hand. He bowed out, and once he was out of earshot, which wasn't very far in such a noisy atmosphere, Mariette spoke. 'I know why you're looking for him, Elizabeth.' Ever the concerned matriarch. 'Elliot tells me everything. With the way you're carrying on I wouldn't be surprised everyone in Kalos knew. Tracking a killer. Really.'
'Oh, I quite doubt he tells you everything, Mariette,' said Elizabeth, perhaps a little cruelly. Just enough to keep you docile.
'I shall let that one slide, given your grief,' replied Lady Leroux, wearing a kind of smile that suggested she wasn't at all pleased. 'Now sit, enjoy some wine. I hear it's of a wonderful vintage.'
'I'll pass.'
'Sit,' said Mariette. 'Simeon, do be a gentleman.'
The boy obediently filled Elizabeth's glass, wearing a look of concentration that stood oblivious to the glare Elizabeth exchanged with Mariette's calm smile. Elizabeth sat and picked up the wine flute, which nearly splashed the tablecloth from being overfilled.
'There, isn't that better?' Lady Leroux sipped her wine. 'Elizabeth, I know you're upset and I do worry for you. The funeral is tomorrow, isn't it? Speak with Elliot then, he'll have all the time in the world for you. We are family, after all.'
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Posted: Sat Jan 30, 2016 10:24 am
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((I dunno man, this is my Chinese Zodiac year and I'm killin' it right now
EDIT: Added a whoooole third section))
Cyllage City Hospital – Matheson’s Room
Being confined to a hospital did not mesh with Matheson’s active lifestyle. The doctors didn’t have files on the pills he took for his Obsessive Impulsive Disorder, so they recommended he did not mix them with his pain medication just to be safe. Any excuse not to take those OID pills was a good excuse to Math, and Salieri’s third visit to his room helped break the hospital’s monotony as well. The only impulse he was feeling was the one to make out with her, but that was more easily staved off than he thought.
He told her how his buddies had come to check in on him while she was away, and how missing the nobility’s ball was a blessing. Then it was his turn to listen as he ate his complimentary pudding cup while Salieri vented to him.
“So she told me I wasn’t allowed to keep looking into Ratio. Cause, you know, she’s suuuuch an expert on him and everything. Then she said if I run into Ratio again with Zack, she’ll kill me. Kill me! And she said I was crazy.” Salieri huffed in irritation, brushing stray hair behind her ears as she slid off her shoes and propped her feet onto his bed. Math watched her toes wiggle in her socks, which were a goofy rainbow stripe print that he hadn’t expected.
Matheson’s Houndoom, Hyperion, was curled up at the foot of his bed, his body heat warming up the whole cot. Every once in a while he’d open an eye to look back at the conversation between the humans. Other than that, Hyperion pretended he was asleep. He sniffed the air when Sal’s feet came onto the bed, wrinkled his nose, and curled up into a tighter ball.
“Sounds heated. I would’ve been super uncomfortable if I was this Ben guy.”
“Tell me about it.”
“I like your socks, by the way.”
“Oh.” Sal looked at them herself. “Thanks!”
“Mmhmm. Sorry, keep going.”
“So I told her I’d never bother her brother again if she battled me like she promised to. Cause I really don’t care about that family, they can pack up and go back to Unova. Buuut she chickened out and I called her spineless and she Teleported away so there you go.”
“Wow.” Matheson took a bite of pudding and held out the cup to Sal. “So catty. You guys are so catty. No offense.”
“She started it!” Sal angrily ate a spoonful of pudding and handed it back. “Like, I saved his life. I mean, I called him in the first place to save your life, but still, you’d think she would’ve said thanks or something.”
Matheson made a mental note that this Zack person Salieri strongly disliked had indeed saved his life, and that he should thank him for it in the future. He tucked that note away for later. “Okay. Put yourself in her shoes for a second.”
Matheson put down the pudding and sat crosslegged, holding up his hands as symbolic scales. “She’s been in this country for less than a week, right? And you said she’s a new trainer? So on one hand she’s gotta be freaked out by all of this, even more than a normal Kalosian. And when you get freaked out, you get desperate and you say whatever you need to say to make things feel okay, even if it’s for like a second.” He held that point of view in one hand. “And on the other hand, she’s pissed because there’s all this danger and the one guy in this country who’s supposed to be on her side is on your side, and you’re not making things easy for her. She probably feels all alone right now. That’s gotta blow.”
Salieri stared at his empty hands, then slapped them down. “Your sympathy is so annoying,” she said, pushing his arm. “You’re supposed to tell me I’m right and she’s wrong.”
“That’s lame psychology,” Math said with a grin, which Salieri couldn’t help but return.
“Your mom is lame psychology.”
“You should talk to her.”
Salieri rose an eyebrow. “I should talk to your mom?”
“Uhh, no? You should talk to Henrietta. Sans the catty.” Math’s Houndoom shook slightly, and he could’ve sworn his Pokémon just laughed at her. Sal rubbed the back of her head.
“Oh, duh…it’s Helena.”
“Whoops. I meant Helena.”
“No thanks. I’ll let the Redgraves explode on their own.” Salieri looked down at the tiles on the floor, thinking back on the conversation on the roof. She could’ve been nicer. But there was a trigger.
Everytime she tried to tell somebody about the Darkhorse Hunters, or Nicolette Nostrad, or Kyren Balibar, people told her she was crazy. ‘She’s just a kid’ or ‘She’s been through a lot’ or anything that could invalidate her notions. They wouldn’t believe her. Now more people believed her than ever but it didn’t matter. She got used to being called crazy. It’s when they all said there was nothing she could do that she started to feel hopeless. Everyone expected Sal to cut her losses, and that it was pointless to keep trying. Everyone but Mia. And then Zack of all people, and now Ben and Esme again. Helena reminded Sal that all of them could doubt her as fast as they had been willing to fight by her side, and it was already hard to make it on her own.
Salieri looked up at Matheson. She considered voicing this to him. It was never something she had said out loud, not even to Mia, because saying it would make it hard to disagree. Blind determination was better for her than stark realization. She considered telling him about this feeling she couldn’t shake, about being doubted all the time, but she decided she had vented enough for one night. Sal didn’t want to scare Matheson off, not right after they had become something together.
Apparently Matheson had been thinking hard about a problem of his own at the same time, because out of the blue he said to her, “Zack shouldn’t be fighting with his sister. He wouldn’t have had to save me if I wasn’t so stupid.”
“What do you mean?”
“My Pokémon know how to fight, but I don’t like battling that much. It’s hard to watch it get out of hand. I know my team thinks I’m going soft, but that’s just the way it is.” He gripped the sheets covering his legs tightly. “I really thought Ratio would listen to me. I really thought I could stop him without fighting…so stupid, I was so stupid…maybe if I was stronger, I could’ve stopped him.”
Salieri frowned. She had told him before he went to Route 10 that it would be stupid to go. Now that he switched over to her old side, she felt bad about it. She’d never say it but his pacifism was admirable. It didn’t suit her needs or wants, and yet she knew it was right. Sal placed a hand on his. “Oh Math…”
Her Pokégear rang. It was an unknown number. Perplexed, Salieri answered it. “Hello?...Mia? Where are you calling from?”
Matheson watched the concern grow on Salieri’s face as she stood up, cupping one ear with her hand to give her full attention to Mia. “Whoa, slow down. Mia, what’s wrong?”
Pokémon League Castle
Pachelbel’s Canon echoed off the walls. Juliet recognized the change in song. From her position on the mezzanine she watched as no one else seemed to notice. They were too wrapped up in conversation to appreciate the talents of the orchestra. Juliet was supposed to be wrapped up in conversation as well, but was taking an all too brief reprieve. A few seconds passed before Kallikrates nudged her leg to bring her back to attention, and she turned back into the circle of nobles she was a part of, who hadn’t even noticed her phase out of the dialogue.
The only one who did was her father, Jullien, who didn’t drop a beat as he continued talking to some Orville Mayfield about the castle’s garden or whatnot while giving Juliet a fierce glare at the same time. His eyes said all that needed to be said: The House’s pride is upon your shoulders. Do what you’re supposed to.
So she rejoined the conversation in time to hear the tail end of it. “-chances are high, if I do say so myself.” The smarmy nobleman who was talking twirled his mustache like a cartoon character. “With six badges already under his belt, I have no doubts my young William will be the second Champion my house provides, fufufufu.”
Juliet couldn’t help but let out a sharp laugh at that statement, and suddenly their eyes were upon her, her father’s in particular burning a hole into her brain. She’d made a mistake. Juliet cleared her throat, finished her glass of wine, and held it out at her side so a passing waiter might notice. “Is something funny, Juliet?” Jullien asked her in a stern tone.
“No, no. I didn’t mean to sound rude,” she said to the cartoon man in her airy way, diffusing some of the tension. A waiter noticed her empty glass and offered her a full one. She took it without hesitation, absentmindedly petting the head of her Ninetales with her free hand. “I mean no disrespect. It’s just that I was planning on becoming Champion myself this year.”
Her declaration was met with pleasant surprise as everyone she was speaking to exchanged looks of approval. Jullien faked his, continuing to beam his stare at Juliet, exerting his pressure. “This is the first I heard of this,” Jullien said, faking joy as best as he could.
“That’s wonderful! I remember watching you battle once, long ago,” someone chimed in. “It was a pleasure.”
“How many badges do you have?” someone else asked.
“I have six as well. There’s still plenty of time to train and get the last two before the tournament.” She sipped her wine, eyes on the cartoon man, and rose her glass for a toast. “I look forward to seeing William’s progress throughout the league.”
She saw the subtle hints that he felt threatened by her announcement, but like everyone else at this party he faked emotion and joined the toast. “Here here.”
After the drink, Jullien came up to his daughter’s side. “I need to speak to you.”
They bowed out of the conversation and walked slowly across the mezzanine, Kallikrates keeping pace at her side. Everyone looked at the Head of House Nostrad and his prized daughter, not daring to approach them for a talk when it was clear their conversation was more personal. “How dare you make such bold statements without my clearance,” he said, eyes focused ahead of him instead of on her. “You made me look like a fool.”
“I thought you’d be proud,” she retorted. “I’m giving you one more reason to parade the House around. You can raise a banner wherever you like once I become Queen-“
“Do not say such things here, in the castle of all places.”
“Why play by these unspoken rules, father? If you don’t shake things up then we’ll all just end up paintings on the wall. What kind of legacy is that to leave behind.”
Jullien stopped in front of her, abruptly cutting her off and causing her confidence to shrink back. Her father was an imposing man to all he laid eyes on, and she knew better than anyone else at the ball that he could be even more imposing to family. Juliet recalled how cold he could become if he wanted to, not talking to her for days on end if she didn’t live up to an expectation. Suddenly she shut her mouth, awaiting whatever berating he was about to deliver.
“It pains me to see how much you think you’ve grown when you’re still an ungrateful child. You treat this system as thought it were a game, with the same levity as a Pokémon battle. You think of all these people as pawns to move around, but you don’t understand their importance. They are all gears in a machine, and when you shake up a system, you break the machine.” He stepped closer. “Every move you make, every breath you take, they’ll be watching you. You are a part of that same machine. The nobility will topple entirely if you make the wrong move because you thought of this as a game.”
Juliet gulped. “…I’m sorry.”
“As you should be.”
Elizabeth’s arrival was announced in the main hall, and the two of them watch her enter. “I need you to talk to Elizabeth in my stead,” he told her. “I told the whole nobility about Ratio in order to keep them alert. Keeping a secret to protect someone else when they’d be better off knowing is asinine. Yet I told her we’d be in a private alliance figuring this out together. The poor girl deserves an apology.”
Juliet rose an eyebrow. “Why don’t you apologize to her in person?” It was a legitimate question but she posed it with just enough attitude that it could be interpreted as defiant. Defiance was her only recourse against him, and it fizzled out every time.
He looked like he was going to call her out on it, but luckily for her he decided not to. “I am a gear as well, and my job in this system doesn’t include apologies. This job is yours. Do it.”
He walked away without another word. Juliet watched Elizabeth walk across the party and settle into the Leroux table. She downed the rest of her wine, a nearly full glass, in one stroke. “How many of those have you had?” hissed Kallikrates, out of earshot from any other human.
“Not enough,” Juliet muttered. The buzz of alcohol was getting her through the ball. She’d need more if she was to serve as her father’s lackey all night.
Juliet went back to the main floor, found Elizabeth, and placed a hand on the noblewoman’s shoulder. “Elizabeth Leroux,” she said, relaxed and pleasant. “I almost didn’t recognize you without that gorgeous sword of yours at your side.”
Prism Tower - Hidden Room
The thing Moze liked most about the luxury room hidden at the top of the Prism Tower, aside from the view, was the piano. It was compact and didn’t feel cramped in the small room. Moze never had a piano at home, but here he could play to his heart’s content. Right now, illuminated only by a few lamps and the twinkle of stars out the window, he was a shadow at the bench, still clad in the Ratio uniform save for his mask sitting beside him. He played Pachelbel’s Canon with slow carefree strokes of the keys, which was currently being played at the ball Horton Balibar was missing.
Horton’s cries were being muffled by the gag in his mouth. He was blindfolded and tied to the support pillar in the middle of the room. Cottonballs floated everywhere.
“What are you waiting for?” asked Salieri, fourteen years old and sitting on top of the piano. The gash where Moze had cut her across the face dripped with blood. She huffed impatiently. “C’mon, kill him already.”
“I’m thinking,” he said under his breath, not looking up at his sister.
“You’re taking your sweet time, huh? You’ve got a lot of work to do, bro, don’t wanna keep him waiting.”
Moze drew the wooden shade over the keys and stood up from the piano. Salieri disappeared. Mask in hand, he went to Horton and took the gag out of the noble’s mouth. Horton took a few quick breaths, craning his head around in a vain attempt to see his captor.
“Please,” he gasped. His chest rose up and down in quick succession. The man was terrified. “Please, just tell me what you want. I’ll do anything!”
“Can you erase your past?” Moze asked softly, like he felt bad for punishing an unruly child.
“W-What? You think I’ve done something?” Horton laughed reflexively, in a nervous way. “Whatever you think I’ve done, I don’t know, but I promise you-“
“I know about your housing projects. You break people, you sell drugs to kids, you make the streets a dangerous place to live. You ruin homes so you can make them cheap.” Moze knelt down. Horton wasn’t quivering so much anymore. Maybe it was guilt. “Then you fix everything up, and sell them back for a cute profit. The thing is, you don’t even need the money. You have enough already. But you just want it.”
Horton’s silence was long, incriminatingly long. “I swear, I swear to you, I will make it right. I know what I’ve done, and I will use that money to fix it if you please, just let me go. It will never happen again.”
“I know. I’ll make sure of it.”
Horton whimpered, and quietly repeated “No” and “Please” with increasing desperation. Moze stood up and saw Mia standing across from him in just a bra and underwear. “You can kill him. First time for everything. You’ve got this, slugger.”
She sauntered over to him, stroke her palm across his chest. Moze didn’t move but his eyes followed Mia as she circled around him. “It’s not a big deal. It’s easy, like snuffing out a candle. Watering the plants.” She wrapped her arms around his waist from behind and nibbled on his earlobe. “First time for everything.”
Moze rolled his shoulders, shaking her off. He put the mask on and Mia disappeared. By now Horton had grown silent. Moze took off Horton’s blindfold and unsheathed his blade, and the noble responded by sitting up straight in an effort to keep some dignity despite his fear.
“Y-you’re the one who killed Gabriel Leroux, aren’t you? You’re picking us off…” He gulped. “If you won’t let me go, then please, for the love of Arceus, leave my family out of this. They don’t have anything to do with this business of mine. They don’t know that I…I…please, don’t do this…”
Moze held his sword still, hesitating. Then he saw the silhouette of another woman emerge from the corner. From the shadows he couldn’t tell what she wore, or what she looked like. But the moment he heard her voice, something flared in him.
“History repeats itself,” Nicolette Nostrad told him. “You’re not strong enough to break the cycle, to make a change. That’s the way it goes.” She shrugged. “Weak, time and time again. If you can’t even kill him, you’ll never be able to kill ME.”
Nicolette disappeared the moment the sword went through Horton’s chest. Blood splattered across Moze’s mask. Horton’s eyes bulged and he slumped forward. It was a quick death.
The cottonballs floating around the room all converged into a soccer ball sized orb next to Horton. Shepard Fairey popped up behind Moze and gave him a pat on the back. “Cott cott!” he pipped, whistling while he got to work cleaning up the body and the blood.
Moze stood there for three minutes, waiting for someone else he knew to appear and tell him what to do. No one did. He came to his senses slowly, like emerging from underwater, until he finally took out his phone and called Ratio.
If Ratio didn't answer, he'd try again later. And when he finally got in touch with his boss, Moze would tell him. “It’s done…I did it.”
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Posted: Sun Feb 07, 2016 4:41 pm
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-Connecting Cave-
Benedict stared at his five pokeballs filled with pokemon, the five remainders anyway. Madeleine the Mienfoo had been put in storage to make room for the newest arrival. He had known from the beginning that traversing the Connecting Cave wasn't what was going to be the hard part, it was finding his prey. A pokemon worth picking up, tough enough but with a few things that could be exploited later on. It had taken some time, after picking up the pokeballs and making his decision of which pokemon to leave behind, to find the target. A meditite.
The pokemon stared at him, watching curiously as he seemed to be staring at a bunch of pokeballs. Slowly, the pokemon moved closer. Curiosity was clearly getting the better of the little guy, and Ben realized that, rather than just fight, there was a good chance he could just lob a pokeball to catch the pokemon. A moment of stillness overtook the both of them as the realization set in. Meditite took another step forward...
And Benedict threw a pokeball. Less than a minute later, the new member of his team was out and once again staring at him. A wave of emotions hit him after a moment, emotions, sensations. Meanings without being decipherable. The pokemon and human watched each-other, the sensations suddenly going back and forth. Benedict's lips curled into a grin, this was exactly the ability he wanted, if unpolished. Telepathy could be found in some Meditites, a way to communicate between team mates.
Slowly, Benedict sat down, staring at the pokemon as he tried to decipher the different sensations. If the pokemon had known his mind, or at least his language, it would have been translated as words, though there wasn't really a way for him to know that. All he knew was that they communicated in abstracts. Emotions, sensations, pictures.
Which made for a very difficult conversation, actually.
"Most of the rest understand when I talk out loud. I'll guess you do too." Benedict said after a moment. "At least, they understand well enough. I'm hoping you'll learn how to communicate with that better, but that's not all I came here for." He needed to go somewhere else, somewhere better for training, that much was obvious. But this pokemon wasn't going to be combat ready soon.
Which meant he could, instead, set his Inkay to guard them and start training Meditite in the move he wanted her to learn. "I want you to read my mind without me consenting." He said, taking out a coin. "Read it and figure out what I'll be doing next." And so the two would sit there, waiting on Sal to send him Alexa's info, playing simple gambling games, flipping coins, playing cards, and the pokemon had to guess what he was doing.
In short, he was teaching the pokemon how to cheat, and expecting her to do it by reading his mind.
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Posted: Mon Feb 08, 2016 2:30 pm
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Pokémon League Castle
Say one thing about nobles, say they love to hear themselves speak. On the one hand, it made Severin's job easy when all he had to do was be on hand with another glass of wine. The dictator for the night was Baron Robillard, a minor merchant whose immense grasp of market trading was crippled by equally dreadful luck. It was all quite out of his control, you understand.
'Of course when it comes down to it, it's all a matter of statistics,' the Baron said in a thick, dog-like growl. 'Follow the statistics, follow the trends, know that the past will inform the future. A Ponyta won't suddenly start walking on two legs.'
The group of nobles, perched by the parapet overlooking the castle grounds, roused with agreement. The lords and ladies laughed and sipped their wine, holding out their glasses for Severin to refill periodically. He stood at the side of the group, hovering like a ghost.
'But what about this Omer Masse business?' asked Count... Severin couldn't quite recall. Beauthane would launch him from the castle walls if he made that blunder out loud. Regardless, Count Whoever was a sinewy man with a small face and jutting chin whose fingers clawed around his wine flute like the legs of an Ariados. 'Humiliated on the public stage, and by a foreign commoner at that.'
Baron Robillard wrinkled his moustache, his eyes gleaming. 'Ah, Count Bellegarde, how glad I am you brought that up. Omer Masse was afflicted by the very same malady that forced me to buy a smaller yacht last year. Random disagreeable exception. There is always a chance, however small, of a trend reversing suddenly. A momentary blip, nothing more, but it may cost you dearly. It cost Masse dearly. His reputation, if you'll pardon my Unovan, down the shitter. And why? Because at the end of an exhausting run of well-deserved wins, he was tripped by a filthy ******** commoner.'
Agreement came again, perhaps a tad warier before the red anger swelling in Baron Robillard's face. Too much wine, one might say if they were polite.
'There are some common trainers who might defeat a decent noble trainer,' ventured Count Bellegarde, his fingers shuffling over one another as he spoke. 'Obviously few in number, but it would be folly for someone in Masse's position...'
'Quite right, quite right,' said the Baron. 'A decent noble trainer might lose to a talented commoner trainer. But it's historical fact that the very best noble trainers do not lose to the very best commoners, certainly not within Kalos.'
Baron Robillard turned and did something that had never happened before. He looked Severin dead in the eye and spoke. 'Lorel, you're a commoner. I hear you train pokémon.'
'I, ah,' the words caught in Severin's throat as the group of nobles turned their gazes directly to him. Their colourful, sometimes hideous, suits and gowns contrasted with his pure white waiter's uniform. It was supposed to. He was meant to be a blank canvas, to be invisible. A non-person. He was meant to be spoken at, not spoken to. After a second of imitating a Goldeen, Severin found his voice. 'I would say I dabble, my lord.'
'Dabble,' the Baron frowned. 'I hear you are at the very least decent. This ball has amassed the finest crowd of nobility from the farthest reaches of all Kalos. Who do you think you could defeat?'
What was this? A power play? Was Severin now the representative of all common trainers, expected to admit blanket inferiority on their behalf? Well, he could think of a couple things wrong with that, but the good Baron Robillard wasn't to know. Perhaps he was just a drunk bully.
'I honestly couldn't say,' Severin replied. The Baron frowned ever deeper for a moment, then wrinkled his face into a smile.
'Ah, my boy. If you didn't think otherwise you simply would have said none,' the Baron leaned closer. 'Go ahead, tell us. Who here would cow before the awesome might of Severin Lorel?'
A round of soft laughter went around the group. Severin felt like laughing himself. Instead he smiled as he met the Baron's dark, stupid eyes. 'All of you. My lord.'
Severin registered the shocked expressions on those noble faces, and for that it was worth it. Redness shot across Baron Robillard's face, Count Bellegarde's spidery fingers locked around his glass. Servants did not speak that way. They barely had time to reel before, for the second time that night, a hand clamped on Severin's shoulder and span him around. Beauthane's nose pressed against Severin's eyeball and the large man hissed, 'You have <******** up now, boy.'
---
Elizabeth had fallen into a sour state since arriving at the Leroux high table. With her way to Elliot momentarily barred, she had taken to sulking like a child, well aware that she reflected poorly on House Leroux. So when Juliet placed her hand on Elizabeth's shoulder, she wasn't expecting it, and may have jumped. Only slightly.
'Juliet,' she said, half turning. 'I think my night would be much improved if I had thought to wield a sword.'
Mariette rose in her seat at Juliet's entrance. It was an ingrained response for a house leader to look their very best in the presense of another high ranking Court noble. For Mariette this meant shifting her posture so as best to expose her enormous bosom. It reminded Elizabeth of a Persian arching its back to look bigger, but with less hissing.
'Ah, Lady Juliet,' Mariette said, her voice a careful mix of respect and warmth. After all, Juliet would soon become a Leroux, at least in name. 'I am so sorry Matheson couldn't be with you this evening. I trust you have been to see him? I am told he recovers quite well.'
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Posted: Tue Feb 09, 2016 9:52 am
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Benedict's Phone
Salieri Lost track of time, stuff came up.
Salieri's text to Benedict referred to Mia's call about the attack on Hotel Richissime. It was something she'd tell Ben about when she got more information, but for now all she was getting was a whirlwind of words from Mia. Her next text gave contained Alexa's phone number and email address.
Lumiose City - Outside of Hotel Richissime
The red and blue swirl of siren lights on the street attracted nosy spectators, but on closer inspection there wasn't much for them to see. Cops were interviewing confused patrons of the hotel that were just coming to from their sleep spell, assuring them they were okay and explaining to them the official story: an unruly Pokémon had thrown a tantrum and put everyone in the lobby to sleep. One by one, the hotel's customers accepted what happened to them, miffed but unafraid.
Mia knew there was more to the story than that, but she hadn't told anyone yet. She didn't have to, because the guards that the Creature beat up had explained it to the first responding officers as they were privately escorted to the hospital, far before the news was allowed on the scene. Nobody knew there had been an attack except the security team, the cops and Mia.
"-unprecedented incident in the Hotel Richissime-"
"Thankfully no one was hurt-"
"The culprit has yet to be found-"
Mia watched and listened to the row of reporters speaking into the cameras, positioned by the police so the news feed did not show the cops frantically searching the inside of the lobby for something. No, someone.
"Miriam! Miriam!"
She looked up to see her father pushing through the nosy crowd on the outskirts of the police barricade. Mia walked over to him and he embraced her in a tight hug born out of worry. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, Dad," she said to him, backing away with her arms folded. Her hands were shaking.
"What happened here?"
"I'll tell you at home." She looked over her shoulder. "Can we go? Please?"
"Of course, of course." In one big arm he held her tight, kissing her forehead. "Oh my baby girl, when Officer Walter called me I got so worried!"
She frowned at the affection as teenagers were wont to do, even though she really did appreciate his concern. "Daaaad, stop it." Gavin Aviad's doting presence made her feel a little safer.
Before they could leave, Officer Walter and his partner, a young stern looking woman with a professional demeanor, approached them. "Mr. Aviad, I hope you weren't worried."
"Worried? You nearly gave me a heart attack," Gavin said with a laugh of relief.
"We're not done questioning your daughter, sir," the younger cop said abruptly, getting right down to business.
"I already told you everything," Mia said tiredly.
"You were the only one who saw-"
"You can talk to her tomorrow," Gabriel said defiantly. "I'm taking my daughter home."
Officer Walter nodded to his partner, who gave up with a reluctant nod of her own. "Fine."
"Goodnight, Mia," Officer Walter said, taking off his cap and putting it to his chest. "If you see Salieri, tell her I said hi."
"Sure," Mia muttered, already walking away with Gavin. Their house was a fifteen minute walk away, and each step away from the hotel got Mia thinking that the Creature could be lurking in any shadow, waiting to do something else.
"Do you want anything?" Gavin asked, pointing to a drugstore they were passing. "Candy?"
"I'm not hungry," she sighed. "Just tired."
"That's good, because you're staying in tonight. I'm sorry, but no Gotengo after a police incident. I'll make you hot chocolate just how you like it, how's that sound?"
Mia didn't argue. She didn't want to go to Gotengo. She just wanted to go to her room, and hide under the covers.
Pokémon League Castle
Juliet's hand moved from Elizabeth's shoulder to the back of her chair as Mariette addessed her and reminded her how alone she was at this ball. "Thank you, Lady Mariette." Yes, she had visited Matheson. She was the first visitor, in fact. Was he recovering well? Sure, if the life sucking mayhem demon known as Salieri Soledad wasn't getting him blown up as they spoke.
Thinking about Salieri was like swallowing gravel. She saw how Matheson melted when she was around with his big Lillipup eyes. Could he not see how poisonous she was? In no way was he good enough for him. She hoped he would come to his senses before they kissed, because if that happened he'd stop thinking with his brain, and then he'd never know...he'd never know...
Juliet realized she was beginning to grind her teeth behind her noble smile, and she was gripping Elizabeth's chair hard enough that she could feel the vintage wood frame creak. "He's coming along. This isn't his first hospitalization, I'm sure you know. I wish he'd leave heroics to the police, but that's why I...that's why everyone likes him, isn't it?"
Kallikrates sat behind Juliet on her hind legs, keeping a fair distance from the children at the Leroux table. She didn't want their grubby hands grabbing onto one of her tails. Her ears perked up as she noticed the subtleties in Juliet's actions.
Juliet's eyes moved over to Elizabeth. "Do you mind taking a walk with me?"
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Posted: Tue Feb 09, 2016 9:57 am
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Benedict's Phone
Salieri Lost track of time, stuff came up.
Salieri's text to Benedict referred to Mia's call about the attack on Hotel Richissime. It was something she'd tell Ben about when she got more information, but for now all she was getting was a whirlwind of words from Mia. Her next text gave contained Alexa's phone number and email address.
Lumiose City - Outside of Hotel Richissime
The red and blue swirl of siren lights on the street attracted nosy spectators, but on closer inspection there wasn't much for them to see. Cops were interviewing confused patrons of the hotel that were just coming to from their sleep spell, assuring them they were okay and explaining to them the official story: an unruly Pokémon had thrown a tantrum and put everyone in the lobby to sleep. One by one, the hotel's customers accepted what happened to them, miffed but unafraid.
Mia knew there was more to the story than that, but she hadn't told anyone yet. She didn't have to, because the guards that the Creature beat up had explained it to the first responding officers as they were privately escorted to the hospital, far before the news was allowed on the scene. Nobody knew there had been an attack except the security team, the cops and Mia.
"-unprecedented incident in the Hotel Richissime-"
"Thankfully no one was hurt-"
"The culprit has yet to be found-"
Mia watched and listened to the row of reporters speaking into the cameras, positioned by the police so the news feed did not show the cops frantically searching the inside of the lobby for something. No, someone.
"Miriam! Miriam!"
She looked up to see her father pushing through the nosy crowd on the outskirts of the police barricade. Mia walked over to him and he embraced her in a tight hug born out of worry. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, Dad," she said to him, backing away with her arms folded. Her hands were shaking.
"What happened here?"
"I'll tell you at home." She looked over her shoulder. "Can we go? Please?"
"Of course, of course." In one big arm he held her tight, kissing her forehead. "Oh my baby girl, when Officer Walter called me I got so worried!"
She frowned at the affection as teenagers were wont to do, even though she really did appreciate his concern. "Daaaad, stop it." Gavin Aviad's doting presence made her feel a little safer.
Before they could leave, Officer Walter and his partner, a young stern looking woman with a professional demeanor, approached them. "Mr. Aviad, I hope you weren't worried."
"Worried? You nearly gave me a heart attack," Gavin said with a laugh of relief.
"We're not done questioning your daughter, sir," the younger cop said abruptly, getting right down to business.
"I already told you everything," Mia said tiredly.
"You were the only one who saw-"
"You can talk to her tomorrow," Gabriel said defiantly. "I'm taking my daughter home."
Officer Walter nodded to his partner, who gave up with a reluctant nod of her own. "Fine."
"Goodnight, Mia," Officer Walter said, taking off his cap and putting it to his chest. "If you see Salieri, tell her I said hi."
"Sure," Mia muttered, already walking away with Gavin. Their house was a fifteen minute walk away, and each step away from the hotel got Mia thinking that the Creature could be lurking in any shadow, waiting to do something else.
"Do you want anything?" Gavin asked, pointing to a drugstore they were passing. "Candy?"
"I'm not hungry," she sighed. "Just tired."
"That's good, because you're staying in tonight. I'm sorry, but no Gotengo after a police incident. I'll make you hot chocolate just how you like it, how's that sound?"
Mia didn't argue. She didn't want to go to Gotengo. She just wanted to go to her room, and hide under the covers.
Pokémon League Castle
Juliet's hand moved from Elizabeth's shoulder to the back of her chair as Mariette addessed her and reminded her how alone she was at this ball. "Thank you, Lady Mariette." Yes, she had visited Matheson. She was the first visitor, in fact. Was he recovering well? Sure, if the life sucking mayhem demon known as Salieri Soledad wasn't getting him blown up as they spoke.
Thinking about Salieri was like swallowing gravel. She saw how Matheson melted when she was around with his big Lillipup eyes. Could he not see how poisonous she was? In no way was he good enough for him. She hoped he would come to his senses before they kissed, because if that happened he'd stop thinking with his brain, and then he'd never know...he'd never know...
Juliet realized she was beginning to grind her teeth behind her noble smile, and she was gripping Elizabeth's chair hard enough that she could feel the vintage wood frame creak. "He's coming along. This isn't his first hospitalization, I'm sure you know. I wish my he'd leave heroics to the police, but that's why I...that's why everyone likes him, isn't it?"
Kallikrates sat behind Juliet on her hind legs, keeping a fair distance from the children at the Leroux table. She didn't want their grubby hands grabbing onto one of her tails. Her ears perked up as she noticed the subtleties in Juliet's actions.
Juliet's eyes moved over to Elizabeth. "Do you mind taking a walk with me?"
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Posted: Tue Feb 09, 2016 2:08 pm
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Pokémon League Castle
Wood squeaked beside Elizabeth's ear, just low enough so only she could hear it. Seemed Lady Juliet was having a lousy time of it as well. Elizabeth had found herself unable to be upset for Matheson's injuries. They were family, but all it had incited in her was a dull recognition. She should feel bad about that, she was sure. It was the human thing to do. Ratio was responsible, had harmed her family again, and the normal human reaction was pressed into a swirling blob of hatred that left her numb.
Elizabeth caught Mariette's eye. With a gracious nod of her head, Mariette allowed Elizabeth to leave the high table. To do so without her permission would be greatly embarassing, and it seemed Mariette thought Elizabeth's demeanour this evening was embarassment enough. The chair slid along the tiles and Elizabeth stepped away from the table, somehow feeling even worse than she had coming in.
'Well,' she said, turning to Juliet, sparing a glance for Kallikrates, 'I'm all yours.'
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