[IC] Pokémon: Hoenn - Make a Wish

[Phoenix]

Route 117

Credit: @c3p-0h
Droplets pounded against the forest floor. The sloshing of mud and wind in the leaves deafened shouts and cries. Thunder pounded out sounds made by wild Pokemon and the sounds of the earth. The chaos of the chase was just the slightest murmur in the growing wrath of the skies. Despite the cacophony, the scent of life and of water and of earth filled the air. The edges of the grass and reeds sharp, the shell of trees coarse and jagged, the soil soft and a vacuum, nothing could release the grip of focus to play savior of a helpless egg or the greed of wanting what others possessed.
"Fury Cutter!" a sharp voice called through another crash of thunder.
A Scyther whizzed through the trees to the left of the man and Weepinbell. Its razored limbs sliced down at the vines gripping the man, blades cutting almost entirely through. A pained cry came from Blink and the vines released immediately.
"Blink!" Haven shouted, two pokeballs already in hand. Blink wasn't meant for battle.
"Head Charge!"
In the next moment, a Tauros stampeded from the left and directly toward the Weepinbell. Blackened dirt splashed up from under the beast's hooves. It kept its target despite the unreliable surface on which it trampled. Haven's heart was in her throat as she watched the Tauros charge at Blink. That attack would end him.
With a desperate arm outstretched, and the other holding the egg, she clicked the center buttons on both pokeballs. He returned to her in a flash of light. At the same time, Lace materialized a scant foot in front of the rampaging Tauros.
"Iron Defense!" The Corsola was small, but she was tough – she could take the knock. Lace immediately did as commanded, trusting Haven. She hunkered down on her little stub legs and braced herself, rocky body ready to act as a landmine.
The Tauros acted as if his target hadn't changed. His legs rammed into the ground, crashing all around the coral and then past. Paces away, it stumbled and slammed into the mud, picking up what small patches of grass and leaves were around the tree it collided with. Its legs were torn up from the Corsola's pink branches. Combining that with the collision meant it wasn't getting back up.
The clumsy beast was the perfect distraction for the Scyther to then descend upon Haven directly. If its trainer couldn't have the egg, the Scyther would destroy it so that none could possess the apparent treasure. Its arm swung like a guillotine down upon the girl.
"Yes!" the voice without a body cried out in some kind of sick pleasure.
Haven barely had enough time to turn away from the blow asthe Scyther appeared before her in a blur of green and a lightning flash of blades. The egg was pulled tight to her chest as she tried to shield it. Her eyes were slammed shut, bracing for the blow. But any attempt to ready herself couldn't possibly prepare her for the lines of fire that seared across her back. Her eyes snapped open wide and her lips parted in a silent scream. A halting, strangled sound was all that could escape.
The Scyther's blades had cut an X through the filthy robe and into her back. Haven's blood poured out of her, hot and slick, mixing with the rain and mud. Haven was blind to everything save for the pain, the blind panic of being sliced open. She could feel herself falling forward. She was going to collapse. But suddenly she heard something over the sound of the storm: an angry, pained hiss as the Scyther turned from her to look at Lace. She'd begun pelting it with rocks, furiously trying to defend her trainer. Haven chanced a look over her shoulder to see the Scyther trying to glare and hiss but flinching when it was interrupted by a rock beamed at its face. Lace was unrelenting.
Just when the Scyther seemed ready to charge at Lace, Haven grabbed another pokeball from the robe's pocket and Dagger was back in the fray. The Granbull didn't even look at Haven before she pounced onto the Scyther, climbing on its back and attempting to maul it. Pink electricity once again began crackling from Dagger's jaw. She barely flinched when a stray rock from Lace hit her instead of the Scyther. Haven turned so her sliced back was no longer exposed, and took a few shaky steps back from the battle. She wanted to fall, she wanted to rest, she wanted to cry at the agony etched into her very flesh. But adrenaline forced her through. She tried to look beyond them to see the man.
He now stood facing her with a grin cartoonish and vile. Something about his smile made her blood numb in her veins – or maybe she was just going into shock. His hand held a Pokeball that he rolled off his hand and allowed to release when it touched the ground. The beam of energy slithered out of the ball, turned a sickening devil-purple, and transformed into a terror of an Arbok. Its eyes straight at the girl and its body low, it prepared to lunge its fangs at the girl, or the egg, if she was smart.
Another rumbling started to pound in sync with her thundering heart. The Rhyhorn from before had made its way out of the swamped stream. It pointed its long and sharp horn toward the ground, looking to impale the Corsola that was attempting to fend off the thieves. It wouldn't be tricked so easily this time.
There was too much to keep track of. The frenzied brawl between Dagger and the Scyther, the man's sickening smile, the viper lunging, Lace – Lace. Terror gripped her throat as she watched the Rhyhorn, furious and soaking loom above the little Corsola. Lace hadn't even noticed, so focused on pelting rocks at the Scyther as she was.
"Lace, Endure!" Snapped to attention by Haven's voice, Lace followed the command and stealed herself – just in time for the Rhyhorn to descend. Haven couldn't see beyond the explosion of mud and rain that erupted at the impact. At the same time, two different sets of fangs flashed in the storm.
The first was Dagger's, fairy energy finally fully charged as she bit into the Scyther's back, just where its two sets of wings attached. It let out a pained, angry cry, a horrible shrieking noise that pierced even the cacaphony of the storm. Dagger roared between her teeth as her wicked electricity popped and crackled. Enraged, she ripped her head from side to side. The Scyther's wings tore away, a shredded mess lost in the mud below.

The second set of fangs was the Arbok's. Haven had given up her time to defend herself. As the serpent attacked, unhinged jaws wide with razor teeth glinting at her, Haven could only raise an arm to defend herself. The Arbok clamped down on it, fangs sinking into her flesh, venom thick in her blood. This time she did scream.
The Arbok's momentum pushed her backwards and she toppled over the snake still attached to her arm that looked like a toothpick in its massive jaws. The egg was finally dislodged from her grasp and rolled pitifully in the mud. The movement of the fall jostled the Arbok's teeth in her arm and she cried out again.
Haven lay in the mud, her slim – fragile, she thought distantly – arm still in the hissing pokemon above her. It took a strength Haven didn't think she still had to hold it a mere inches away from her face. Its eyes glared down at her and she found herself frozen in them.
Suddenly the Arbok released her in a pained hiss and reared back, her blood oozing from the holes it'd left in her arm. Even exhausted as she was, she knew her blood shouldn't have moved that slowly.
Apparently Dagger was done tearing into the Scyther. The Granbull was climbing on the Arbok, scratching and snarling. Haven tried to push herself up, but could barely manage to support herself on her uninjured arm. Her vision was beginning to haze. She could feel her heart, once loud and frantic in her chest, begin to slow.
Her fingers crept to her pocket to fumble with her two remaining pokeballs. It took her an eternity to find the center buttons and call out Cloak and Blink. Her Weepinbell looked alarmed at the state she was in and immediately moved to fret over her.
"Get Lace," she mumbled to him. She didn't have the energy for further explanation.
For Cloak's part, the Scrafty had already sprung into action, pouncing to join Dagger in attacking the Arbok after giving Haven a startled once-over. He'd taken in the situation and evaluated who needed hurting.
Haven forced her head to turn towards where the egg lay on the ground. She dragged her arm towards it, stretching her fingers out to just barely brush its shell.

Then the ground began to tremble with her frozen and blood-drained fingers. Further away, where the Rhyhorn had managed to stop itself, stony hooves dug into the earth below and made it ebb and flow into a violent quake. None in the area weren't affected. Perhaps the Tauros and the Scyther couldn't feel as much as they were already unconscious.
Arbok lashed itself at the Granbull and Scrafty, though the two worked with a cooperation that wouldn't allow an upper hand to be reached. When the giant asp began to decline rapidly in stamina, a piercing crow struck through the roll of a distant thunder. A Fearow descended in a frenzy of talon and beak at the Scrafty, knowing it'd have the upper-hand. Cloak was thrown from the Arbok, splashing down in the mud. He scrambled to pick himself up and face his new opponent to see a Fearow circling back for another attack. He tried in vain to hit it or fend it off, but it was too evasive in the air, too quick and razor sharp. It grabbed him by the scruff and threw him at a nearby tree. Cloak slid to the ground, unconscious.
Meanwhile, the Arbok splashed all the venom it could at Dagger, now that she, too, had been thrown from its bloodied back. She roared as the venom seeped through her fur, burning her. A sizable portion had found her eyes. She shut them tight, trying to claw or rub or find any way to stop the burning sensation. The Arbok took the advantage at last and wrapped its thick body around her, squeezing. She tried to roar again, but couldn't draw in enough air to do so.
Blink lobbed colorful, glowing leaves at the Rhyhorn, sending it back with an angry growl. It stumbled away from the wet crater it had created, trying to bat them away. But their aim held true, and kept the Rhyhorn at bay as thick vines, slice marks still unhealed, shot forward to wrap around Lace at the bottom of the crater. She was passed out and coated in mud. Most of her horns had broken off with the attacks she'd suffered.
He pulled her back, cradling her body close to his. Blink continued to shoot leaves at the frustrated Rhyhorn. A cry pierced the air again and the Fearow swooped around to slash at Blink with its talons. Immediately Blink stopped, flinching back towards Haven. The Rhyhorn fell to the ground with a wet thud.

Haven was still looking at the egg. Or at least, she thought she was. It was hard to tell when her vision swam with a blurry mix of colors. Her arm was now lying uselessly on the ground, just barely short of touching the egg. Midnight seemed to be taking a hold of her. Closer and closer, she felt a creeping darkness seep through her mind, her vision, her bones. It seemed to be replacing her very blood, as that drained into the ground.
She was so tired.
Haven wondered how long it would take her family to find out. She hoped Rose learned first. Their mom needed someone to break the news to her gently. Rose was good at that sort of thing. Would they find a body? Haven hoped they did. They wouldn't have to wonder that way.
Her last thought was of her team. She hoped they'd somehow get away.
And then all Haven knew was black.
And that black was so warm.
The warmth tugged at her, caressed her softly.
The blackness of a dream surrounded her mind.
The shouts and explosions muted by comfort.

Her mind stretched to the Granbull, toxins and filth seeping into her bones. Rain fell around her as if an umbrella was raised high. The Medicham hovered just over the grass and weeds by the riverstream.
Her elegant body encircled the Scrafty, raising him above the ground with her as she exuded energies meant for rejuvenation. Head to tail, Milotic was a ring in the air of purification and beauty.
She hovered over the girl and her egg, the Weepinbell and the Corsola. Around them formed an orb made of the rain itself. Within, their wounds slowly healed and their protection from the elements greater. Masquerain watched on as the rest of her Party-mates drove the girl's assailants away.

With a simple and unvoiced command, the five of them rushed to erase these heartless thieves from the earth.
A bomb blew upon the Arbok. Mud and grass sprayed all around, but the orb of the Masquerain repelled the debris. Out of the explosion roared a particularly aggravated Flygon, by the looks in his eyes.
In the chaos, fronds sliced through the air across the Fearow swooping down to protect its ally. The bird cried a caw and began to tumble through branches. The Shiftry remained high in a branch, its yellow eyes piercing through the stormy woods for other possible threats.
To this, the man originally tied by Haven's Weepinbell was rushed by a Breloom, as quickly as a Breloom could. His hoof pointed toward the man's chin and his leg pushed off with too much power to rationalize such slow speed. Both went toward the canopy, with the man crying in distress.
From a dark pocket in the woods, another terrified scream covered the area. Wide and razored thorns were pushed deep into his flesh deep enough to cause immense pain, but not enough to fell. The Cacturne smiled wide, satisfied with his punishment.

Below each foe, eerie rings of violet began to form. Their centers turned darker than black, threatening to drop each villain into an abyss, a black hole. From their bodies rose a gray smoke that seemed to stick to their skin. It was as if their souls were being lifted from them, exorcised. Then the plasma was violently sucked into the voids, placing each of their souls in a dimension they'd have to fight from which to return. Their bodies now lay in comas upon the rain-stained dirt. Banette then appeared from that dimension, purposefully abandoning the now-sorry souls trapped in a realm they didn't belong.

The breeze was soft and warm against his skin. The sun coated his body with dew, the air light and slightly moist. The sun after a storm always smelled sweet, like Noonblossoms and Catpurs. Forrest took a deep breath, filling his lungs that burned as he worked against Medicham's mind. A simple push-up was made exponentially more difficult with weight applied.
Milotic bathed in the riverstream, all other wild Pokemon having been frightened away even now. Shiftry and Cacturne stood in the sun as they did after a battle, however brief. That, and both enjoyed the sun more than any other organisms unlike themselves. Flygon soared high above, a speck in the sky. Banette was, as usual, unaccounted. Breloom sank his feet into the ground where tree trunks didn't litter the soil. Unlike the other two Grass-types, he enjoyed the shade and moisture.
Just as Forrest was about to fail his final press, Masquerain hovered over with a hum and chirp. She alerted the man that the girl was finally roused from her sleep. Masquerain looked exhausted, having been performing Aqua Ring from that night until now. She seemed adamant for neither Milotic or Medicham to heal the girl. She seemed to know the fragile state she lay, believing she wouldn't cope well with a change in healing methods, despite the fact Milotic, too, could perform Aqua Ring.
Forrest rolled to his feet, grabbing his shirt on the way up. He wiped his face enough so it would no longer drip and slung it around wide neck. His face was touched with rose, and his chest rose with heavy and burning lungs. He strode quickly to the site of the girl. Her Pokemon gathered around her, the Weepinbell cradled the egg in its vines. He took a spot next to the Granbull and looked upon her with concerned eyes.
"Do you know where you are?" he asked. His voice harsh, low, but somehow gentle, caring. He wanted to make sure her head wasn't injured in a, clearly, intense brawl.
It couldn't have been a battle, clearly from the state of the girl. It was a fight for her life, it seemed. The bodies of her attackers still remained where their souls were dragged into the Other Realm. He looked at them after he asked.
"I'm Forrest," he introduced himself. His face youthful, though aged. His brows heavy and jaw wide and sharp. Though he was hunched over her, his stature was clearly large. His arms larger than legs, his chest rounded squares of strength. His back a V of power. His legs columns of stability. Hair coated his face and torso thick and even. The hair on his head shaved on the right, but long on the top and left. It fell in shining brown waves released from a tight braid. His eyes, though, were dull and gray, but soft and warm. They smiled, his mouth hiding behind his beard.

Naval Junkyard - Slateport City

The boy clearly worked on his alias background. The man shifted slightly, the lack of surprise unsettling him subconsciously. The passion of Pit Fights was stronger than the sense of legality, for this lot. He hoped he would keep this alias well enough to succeed in his personal vendetta against whomever it might be. He also hoped the boy didn't unravel their whole operation at the same time.
"No," he said in a flat tone and leaned back in his chair. He waved his hand at the girl still standing beside him attentively. She pressed a spot on the desk far enough away from Dicky, himself, to warrant such a voiceless command.
He finger rose, the tip pointing behind Rai's right shoulder. A Chingling silently hovered over him, producing a constant stream from its mind to the boy's body. Despite the fact Chingling were known to constantly produce a faint ring, this one seemed to have been trained out of its natural anatomical feature. Or, perhaps, it was born without the ability. Still, it performed Heal Pulse upon the stranger rather effectively. Dicky wasn't surprised the boy confused the sense of relaxation with depleting health rather than calm.
"But I know who would," he continued.
He shifted to his left and collected something to put in front of him on the desk. A pen appeared in the delicate hand of the "lady" of which was then grasped by Dicky's thick and short hands. He scrawled something upon the small parchment, something quite uncommon in this age. He folded it tightly and slid it toward Rai across the desk. His reaching showed both how large the desk was and his lack of size.
"Make sure you burn that before you leave the Pits," he commanded rather calmly. "For now, rest."

Briney Marina - Route 104S

"Oi!" Wah'chyur fuckin' mouth, kid!" Briney's voice boomed from up the old and warped staircase to the visitor's right.
The man was no mere visitor, however. He walked straight forward where the entrance simply opened to the small kitchen. There was a familiarity with the layout that the man new where to look for a mug and pour himself a coffee before the start of, what looked to be, a dreary day. Once the coffee was poured, he lit a cigarette in his mouth and took a drag before taking a sip.
This shit's weak as yur balls, Briney," he complained through the cloud forming around his head in a kitchen that wasn't his.
Fredrick was down the stairs in time to catch him mid-drag and leaning against the counter with his favorite mug in the man's hands. "Sonuvah-" he began to say under his breath. "How many times have I told ya?" he scolded rhetorically. "Take the fag outside or I'll take ya outside."
The threat didn't seem empty, but the man didn't budge from his position against the counter. Instead, he took another drag and another sip and fell his eyes on Fredrick in a look of boredom. He flicked some ashes into the sink and barely shifted. "No need to get your dick in a twist, ya bastard," he said through a half-chuckle.
Fredrick paced around, gathering a few things into a pack in preparation for their commute to Oldale. He picked up tickets to get them from Petalburg to Oldale by the time the demonstration would start. It would take them almost 4 hours to reach Petalburg on foot, but the demonstration didn't begin until the early afternoon. Still, with the stranger, Cloud, wishing to join them, he'd have to pick up another ticket.
"Change in plans, Honnings," Fredrick said, ignoring the offense from the man as well as his own threat. "We're all going to Oldale."
"So, you starting your own Pokemon Adventure, pops?" the man, Mitchell, asked this "Cloud."

Instead of paying for another ticket, Mit offered to bring Cloud to Oldale with his own Pokemon. Manectric was tame and loyal, proving calm and sturdy under the man. Mit chose to wade along a stream deep enough for his Sharpedo. His Ninjask darted through the air above them both. The bug enjoyed roaming around outside his Pokeball.
There was some small talk between the two, not quite racing fast enough to not hold a conversation. They reached Oldale soon enough and Mit invited Cloud to his fouse where he lived with his grandmother, wife, and two kids. Mit had removed his shirt, or ragged torso-cloth, when he was atop his Sharpedo and didn't seem to bother putting it back on despite the weather. Cloud was given weatherproof garments to prevent the need to change once more.
"Ah, Mitty, who's this?" a snow-topped woman asked as they entered.
"Oh, just some poor vagabond bastard the old man found," Mit replied through a wide-smiled laugh. A warm hand fell on Cloud's shoulder and gripped it with quick familiarity.

[Xan the G]

Route 104S

Jin wasn't as confused as he should have been. It happened quickly but he understood that he was being passed from Briney's authority to that of Mitchell, or Honnings or Mitty if his deductions were accurate. 'Oldale' was the name of the area they were heading to. Jin knew little about Hoenn and while he also knew it seemingly had nothing to do with why Jin was requested to the region... this was exactly how he wanted to start his investigation.

"So, you starting your own Pokemon Adventure, pops?"

Jin glanced to Mitchell and chuckled.

"I'm a little old for that dream now. I am here for discovery. There are things about Hoenn I'm eager to understand. I don't think I'll find the answer I'm looking for in a gym battle though." replied Jin as he approached Mitchell's Manectric. He showed a signed of peace by gently and cautiously petting the pokemon. His movements were cold but civil, not wanting to patronize the pokemon or give a pretence that he was infatuated or enamoured either. He climbed up on Manectric and clutched at its mane for a reign and held on tightly as they traveled Upon approaching the settlement of Oldale Town, Jin could tell that it was a humble, tranquil community. Instinctively it put him on alert for anything that was too interesting or mysterious that would ruin the boring, simple aesthetic of the town. He followed Mitchell to a house and was introduced to the extent of his family. Jin smiled as Mitchell grabbed his shoulder.

"So - this is your hometown," began Jin as his eyes scanned the room. "Three generations; you obviously have some roots here. Places like this, people know people. I'm sure just entering your house at least three of your neighbours knew that I wasn't a local myself. Tell me; have you come across anything new or unusual as of late?"

[LegionPothIX]

Return to Hoenn:

S.S. Libra - En Route to Slateport City

The large ocean liner swayed gently on the sea. The weight of the ship, its build, and the calm of the water precluded the occurrence of motion sickness. A silver primer ball, followed by two regular pokéballs, were affixed to the waste of the young girl who sat perched restlessly on a box. It was a reasonably large wooden crate that could easily support her weight. The crate, the child, and the whole ship was bound for Slateport City. The S.S. Libra was a cargo liner, rather than a cruise ship, and so there was very little to do to keep her mind occupied. Though she originally caught the ship from Rustboro City to Gateon Port with a load of materials from the Devon Corperation. But now—having departed from Gateon Port—the cargo on-board (and her along with it) was now destined for the Slateport Marketplace. The particular box she was sitting on was labeled in big block letters of the impact font: Volcano Incense. According to the crew it smelled like the upper reaches of Mount Battle from whence it came.

"Sorry about this, miss." one of the sailors offered, between sips from a mug, and in so doing disturbed Sarah from her thoughts "We don't get many passengers so the amenities aren't so, uh, amenable." The sailor, and the child, were both on the deck of the ship watching the waves go by. One was sipping coffee to nurse a hangover while the other was fidgeting with cheap toys. The two had been introduced the night before at the Krabby Club by Professor Krane's assistant who helped Sarah secure passage back home.

"I'm sooo booored." Sarah sighed as she flopped onto her back and kicked her legs over the side of the crate.

"I've got a couple pokémon, miss. Ya'know for defense." the sailor said as he set his coffee down on a nearby table. "If ya'like we could have a battle." While Razzle and Dazzle would be a tough act to follow it was the least the sailor could do to entertain the ship's only guest. Though, it was generally considered bad form to engage in a pokémon battle with a stranger with nothing to offer the winner and, while the sailor drank his salary, the child spent her winnings on memorabilia. So, this contest would have to be one for the sport of it.

While still on her back the child leaned her head 'up' looking down from the sky to the man. "A double battle?" From what she was told double battles were more popular in the Orre Region than they were in Hoenn, and with her mind she wrenched the two normal balls free from her trainer's belt, while digging her Pokémon Lens free from her trousers.

"Sure, why not?" the sailor said as he pulled two pokéballs from his own belt. "I picked these up on the job. They're a bit rare where I'm from," the sailor denoted with a mark of pride as he threw his pokéballs into an open space on the deck, "and we don't often have opportunities to train with real trainers."

Sarah grinned as her Zigzagoon and Oddish hit the deck in opposition of a Wingull and Swablu. Her lens chimed in with "Sailor Matt would like to battle!" before reading out the information regarding the pokémon on the field before the battle actually began. And, it indeed began with earnest.

Lens Report

Wingull: Water/Flying
It makes its nest on a sheer cliff at the edge of the sea. It has trouble keeping its wings flapping in flight. Instead, it soars on updrafts rising from the sea by extending its long and narrow wings to glide. This Pokémon's long beak is useful for catching prey.

Wingull has the habit of carrying prey and valuables in its beak and hiding them in all sorts of locations. This Pokémon rides the winds and flies as if it were skating across the sky.

In the winter, it hides food around its nest.

Swablu: Normal/Flying
A Pokémon that has wings like cottony clouds. Swablu loves to make things clean. If it spots something dirty, it will wipe and polish it with its cottony wings. If its wings become dirty, this Pokémon finds a stream and showers itself.

This Pokémon is not frightened of people. It lands on the heads of people and sits there like a cotton-fluff hat. After enduring winter, in which little food is available, Swablu flocks move closer to towns in the spring.

The child pointed at the opponent's first pokémon and gave imitate directions to her own Oddish: "Sweet-Pea! Open with Spore!" Then, to her zigzagoon she added "Ziggy! Odor Sleuth the Swablu!"

"Not so fast!" the sailor shouted back, "Staypuff use astonish. Gulligan use wing attack."

The four pokémon collided in the make-shift ring. Both of the sailor's pokémon dove head first into Sarah's own pokémon. As the Wingull's wing lanced across the oddish's face, it's head virtually exploded in a white fog. Sailor Matt clinched his fist with excitement: "Super Effective!" before the Wingull's flight ended in a crash landing that had the bird skidding across the deck. Meanwhile the Zigzagoon's odor sleuth failed as the impact from the Swablu left it reeling.

The single attack from the Wingull had left the Oddish fairly messed up but with it asleep the battle shifted in Sarahs favor. It was now two against one. Well, one and a half against one. Sailor Matt grit his teeth and issued orders to his Swablu before berating his wingul "Staypuff counter with sing! Gulligan, wake the hell up!"

Not having any of it, Sarah countered with a "Not so fast!" of her own before adding "Ziggy counter with quick attack. Just keep it from singing." The zigzagoon flashed across the battlefield and delivered a claw to the throat of the Swablu and forced it to retreat. "Sweet-Pea, use Leach Seed," the child ordered her Oddish which produced the seeds and fired them into the Swablu's path.

As the seeds connected and the first bout of vitality was stolen from the Swablu, Sarah declared victory: "It's over." She offered the sailor a chance of honorable surrender by explaining the situation. "Even if your Wingull wakes up before we finish your Swablu, my Ziggy is just too fast. I'm not going to let you land another flying move on my Sweet-Pea." Sarah pointed to the sleeping pokémon with her left hand. "If you fight offensively I'll burn you down in a two versus one match. she then pointed at her oddish to make a point "If you fight defensively, I'll will whittle you down with status effects."

Sailor Matt laughed as he considered her offer. "That's pretty good for a kid, but I think I'll take my chances. Staypuff use safeguard, and follow with growl."

It was at this point that the battle changed direction and became an almost one on one fight. With each passing moment the zigzagoon and the oddish's attacks weakened considerably to the point that it took several more tackles and magic leaves to take down the Swablum but by this point the Wingull had woken up. "Staypuff, I know you're tired, but use Mist." Sailor Matt ordered his swablu, and in its final exasperated sigh it did. As a result, a thick mist rose up from the ocean and swept over the field, and promptly thereafter the swablu crashed into the deck before being recalled. "You were smart, kid. Smart, but unlucky. Gulligan use Areal Ace."

The wingull flapped its wings and a single powerful blast of air ripped through the mist. "Ziggy! Intercept with quick attack! Sarah shouted, and without hesitation the zigzagoon blinked into the path of the blast. Unfortunately at the moment of impact the bubble of condensed air broke into several rays of violently agitated air and streamed around the zigzagoon to connect with the oddish.

"Again!" Matt called to his Wingull.

"Magic Leaf!"

The blade of arboreal energy slashed through the wind energy but failed to disrupt it. Weakened, and intimidated by the Swablu the Magic Leaf was no match for the Areal Ace and Sweet-Pea was K.O.'d. The remaining battle was an all out slug-fest as the two remaining pokémon blinked all over the ship, both performing consecutive quick attacks on the other, both trading blow for blow, but the damage had already been done. The swablu had effectively weakened the zigzagoon which would have otherwise been an even match for the wingull and a slow and brutal beat down preceded to be dished out to the Adamant never-say-die zigzagoon.

Minutes rolled on before the Wingull eventually returned to his trainer; victorious—if only just. It brought with it the unconscious body of the zigzagoon and dropped it on the deck at Sarah's feet before returning to Sailor Matt and perching on his shoulder.

"I don't get it..." Sarah sighed dejectedly as she returned her pokémon to their balls.

"Ya'fought good kid, but never underestimate the power of luck, and the value of personal sacrifice." Sailor Matt reached down and scooped up his swablu. "Sometimes its enough to just be able to soften up an opponent. To be the distraction that helps someone else win. To give your all even when you know it's not enough."

In the distance the mariner bell rang signifying that the S.S. Libra would be docking in at Slateport City momentarily.

The worldly sailor gave a last bit of wisdom before returning to his station. "If ya'learn nothin' else let it be that there ain't no shame in defeat. Its the fighting that matters."

[Lerouge]

A chill spread through Ian's body and rose him suddenly from him sleep, his body shooting upward into a seated position and glancing around in a panic attempting to gain his bearings. His eyes identified the color red before anything else and it took him a few more moments before recalling his location upon the S.S. Lily and came to realize what the cause of the chill could be. Turning around in his bed he caught the red-eyed gaze that was so familiar after a moment like these, these belonging to a Gengar which was rolling in mid-air in silent laughter.

"Gengar! I told you not to practice Dream Eater on me!" He roared in frustration as the Pokemon turned upward and began to flee. "Oh no, you don't." Ian retrieved the empty Pokeball resting on the small bedside table at his side and aimed it just in time to retrieve the Ghost Type, who's grin turned into a frown of frustration at being caught before vanishing in a flash of red light. Ian sighed in relief before returning the ball to it's more compact size and returning it to the holder on his belt, alongside the two other Pokeballs that were resting upon the table. He wondered how many other poor travelers had been treated to the same rude awakening before Gengar had run out of choices and returned to Ian. Intending to seek out these other guests and apologize, he stood up from his bed and instinctively reached for the wall to brace himself for the movement of the ship. As he reached for the wall, however, he realized that the movement he had grown so familiar to was gone and the boat was standing quite still. "Oh everyone has already left... I think I would prefer an alarm clock next time." The image of Gengar laughing flashed before Ian's eyes and he shook it off and grabbed the bag laying on the floor and made his way off the boat.

The luxurious S.S. Lily was an expensive trip and for good reason, the entire trip was treated more as a resort vacation for the guests with food, music, and entertainment. Now that they had landed, however, the red velvet carpeting and fancy chandeliers seemed tackier in Ian's eyes and signs of peeling wallpaper and dark stains across the floor showed the boat's age. Ian reached the end of the hallway and approached an Abra that was sitting silently upon a stood. The yellow Psychic type looked up and regarded Ian curiously and muttered it's name in appreciation at Ian's fingers scratching the top of its head gently.

"Braaaa..."

"Abra could you take me to the exit point, please?" The Abra nodded gently and waited a few moments longer to enjoy Ian's touch before emitting a gentle blue glow and causing the two to vanish and reappear before the stairs leading to land and Lilycove City. Ian's jaw dropped at the sight of the crowds exiting the ship and vanishing into a sea of color and sound that was washing over the city. However, Ian's eyes raised toward the horizon and rested upon a building in a distance and stood out among the rest of the city. He had heard rumors among the passengers of the presence of this building and that it would be the first stop most should make upon entering Hoenn. He stared in amazement and was brought out of his reverie by a gentle nibble on his outstretched fingers, which had stopped stroking Abra, and turned to notice the Pokemon pointing at a jar of PokeTreats sitting in a dish at their side.

"Oh, I'm sorry Abra." Ian reached for a snack and held it out to Abra, who took it appreciatively and vanished once again to resume its regular post.

"Welcome to Lilycove City, sir. Enjoy your stay in Hoenn." Rang the voice of one of the ship's attendants standing beside the door, ushering him toward the stairs in a rush.

"T.thank you." Ian descended the stairs and pushed his way through the crowd wandering the docks and made his way toward a more open section of the street. Gasping softly for breath, he turned back toward the ship one last time and rested his fingers upon the three Pokeballs hanging at his waist. "We made it guys. I am sure I can let you guys out when he get toward the shopping district, maybe even find you a battle Kabutops." He turned his back upon the docks and began making his way toward the Lilycove Megamall, and it seemed like most of the people around him were following a similar path.

Even back in Castelia, Ian never appreciated large crowds and tended to avoid them whenever he could. Sadly, today he was trapped and the overwhelming amount of noise and the suffocating feeling of being surrounded was giving him a headache. Slowly, he made his way and managed to find fresh air in the center of the city as people began breaking apart from the path leading here toward their different destinations. The building was looming overhead and he took the moment to lean his head backward toward the sky and follow it's path upward. Ian walked inside and made his way toward a desk marked with Information and smiled at the attendant seated there as he approached.

"Hi, I just arrived here from Unova. Do you think you could tell me where I could find a map of the region and perhaps some Ultra Balls? There are so many people here... I am worried I will become a bit lost in town." A twitch at his waist made Ian chuckled as he reached down and placed his fingers upon Kabutop's Pokeball. "Also somewhere to find a battle."

[c3p-0h]

Route 117

Collab with @phoenix

Haven floated back to consciousness like a piece of driftwood pulled in by the tide, slow and languid. Darkness turned to light, shining against her eyelids and warming her skin. Dull, distant pain wrapped around her like water, engulfing and inescapable, soaking her through. Her eyebrows pulled together, the most movement she could manage. A weak, low groan sounded in the back of her throat.

There was movement along her side in response, a familiar chittering and snuffling. Something sweet chimed above her like a bell before seeming to move away. Haven turned her head to the side, away from the light her eyes were still closed to and tried to find that dark warmth that'd comforted her, that peaceful sleep she'd somehow lost. She didn't want to wake up yet. Blades of grass poked her cheek and her lips pursed together in a small pout. The grass was pokey and annoying. Why was she on grass? She wanted to be in bed.

There was that movement again at her sides. As she swam back to consciousness she finally recognized the sounds of her team, the feel and weight of their bodies along hers.

Shit, she just wanted to go back to sleep. Why were they fussing so much?

But just as suddenly as they'd started, her team stilled. They seemed to press in closer to her. She vaguely registered Dagger's low warning growl. A shadow passed over Haven's body and stilled. Then there was a voice, soft and gravelly, like running fingertips over sandpaper and feeling the grit tickle your skin. It asked her where she was.

"The ground," she mumbled in response. It was the kind of smart ass answer that would get her a smack over the head back home, but Haven couldn't bring herself to care. She wasn't home. She was... in Hoenn. Foggy memories of painting on the streets of Mauville floated through her mind. And then... what? The image was just out of reach, just beyond the haze of her thoughts.

A low grumble, possibly a chuckle, pushed through his thick chest. The air around them vibrated softly. It was easier to feel the sentiment than to hear the response. She seemed aware, and not confused, which was a good sign judging from a lack of medical knowledge.

One eye finally cracked open, the fog lifting to reveal the blinding green of grass. She blinked a few more times before getting fed up and closing her eyes again. With another groan she moved her neck so she was facing the sky again. The pain was starting to solidify in her arm and back, growing sharper than just the sore cloud that floated through the rest of her. The voice introduced itself as Forrest.

”Haven,” she said, her eyes still stubbornly closed. She tried moving, readjusting how her spine laid on the ground, but only winced, her face scrunching into a grimace.

"Ow," she complained. An eye cracked open to see… some huge shirtless lumberjack. Named Forrest, apparently. Because what else would a lumberjack be named? He loomed over her, and she wanted to flinch away from him and his largeness and his closeness.

"Easy," he whispered, growled with affection for a stranger. "You're not fully healed."

"You mind? You're blocking my sun." She closed her eyes again, like that would defend her from whatever it was that made her so uncomfortable. Dagger's growling grew louder and Haven shushed her with a soft sound.

"You need to relax." It was like she was his child, by the timbre in his voice. Soft, but firm. He didn't move, not wanting to strain her eyes by opening them in direct sunlight.

The long whining sound like a siren, but soft and gentle, neared them. The Milotic floated in the air above them. Her long body twisting and curling around itself in an intricacy and fluidness like the psychic energy around her. A periwinkle aura surrounded her. She looked down upon the girl, analyzing what she could and assessing the situation more intimately than Masquerain could.

Medicham stretched her mind into the girl. Her thoughts hazy, drunken as she slowly stirred to consciousness. She could feel a cool and heavy presence in her mind. Firm, blanketing, but not suffocating. Medicham didn't speak to the girl and only assessed her silently. She found there to be little head trauma. Being thrown around and felled so harshly, she was surprised how in-tact her mind was, despite having been sleeping for so long. But the poison still flowed through her veins.

"Jerrek," the man called out behind him. A few moments later, a boy approached with a bag almost as large as he. It was dragged across the ground, unable to be lifted properly. "Thank you," Forrest said softly.

"Is she alright?" the boy spoke. His voice a stark contrast to the man, though unsurprising for a boy of ten years.

"No, hon," he said, his tone markedly higher, as if he needed to speak to his son in a tone unoffensive and almost-pleasant. "But she will be."

"She's fine," Haven cut in, annoyed that they were talking about her as though she weren't even there. Her eyes opened again to see the lumberjack. Now motivated to prove her claim, she mustered up as much energy as she could and forced her palms into the grass to push herself up.

Immediately pain shot through her right arm, from her wrist to her elbow and echoing up to her shoulder.

"Aah-!" Her sharp cry was cut off as Haven grit her teeth together and let herself fall again, only for a large hand to catch the pained arm as well as her back, not allowing her to fall to the ground. He cradled the pain as if to sooth it away by touch. Haven blinked through the sensation, staring up with unfocused eyes. When her vision cleared again she carefully lifted her right arm above her face to inspect it.

"It's not broken," the man told her. He only knew this due to Medicham's mental inspection and Milotic's aural evaluation.

Pink raised lines zigzagged across the pale skin of her forearm, fresh scar tissue mapping her veins. Spaced evenly between her wrist and elbow were four hollow pockmarks, two on either side of her arm, the size of coins and lined with more scar tissue. Lines of smaller puncture marks arced in a crescent on her skin, surrounding the larger scars. Haven stared blankly at them as though trying to read a foreign language. How…

The flash of fangs and a screech of thunder flickered in her memory. Rain drops so sharp and heavy they felt like needles stabbing her skin, the icy grip of fear in her throat, of death–

Haven's heart tripped and she gasped, the memory of the night slamming into her with the force of a tidal wave, threatening to drown her. With a jerk she tried to wrench her arm free, to pull away from the stranger. But that only brought more pain dancing through her bones. Another cry escaped her, only for Haven to bite it back to a whimper. Dagger leapt to her feet with a snarl, only for Cloak to shoot up an arm, a thin line to hold her back as she glared. Distantly Haven was aware of vines curling around her uninjured wrist.

"Stop," he said. Firm, accosting, now. "You're making it worse." Haven managed to obey, stilling. Her mind still raced through the events of the night, putting the pieces together. But it was over, she told herself. The night was over.

The man glanced at the Weepinbell and nodded approvingly. A silent "thank you" through a gesture of the head as well as an "it's okay, you can let go." The vines loosened slightly, but Blink still clung to Haven, more for his sake than hers. The hand under her severely damaged arm moved it gently onto her chest, trying not to touch any of the visibly affected areas. Still, she grimaced, anticipating pain.

"Stay still," he said, more softly now. He twisted his torso so his hand could plunge into the bag behind him. He held a large piece a fruit that looked small between his fingers. The light pink skin of the Pecha berry looked as if it could fall off, indicating how ripe it was. He turned back, his right hand still under her back, and rose the fruit to the girl's lips. "Take a small bite," he said.

The berry wouldn't have any powerful or immediate affects. Over time, it would cure the inflammation in her veins and nullify the toxins. But he hoped that, for now, it would provide some level of soothing to the victim.

After she nibbled he lifted the berry away and up, indicating for the boy to take it and keep it at the ready for her when she was more fit to feed herself. His right hand then slid under her knees and gently lifted her up, cradling her in his arms. Haven realized what he was doing too late and let out a startled sound when he rose. Blink released his grip on her reluctantly. Forrest pressed her against his torso, her shoulder into the right side of his chest in order to keep her stable and from moving around too much. Her team hurried after them.

Now that her back was no longer to the ground, she could feel the cool morning air moving against her bare back. The skin felt tight and sore where her spine curved. Shreds of the dirty green robe swayed beneath her with every step. The memory of the Scyther attacking her flashed through her mind and Haven seemed to shrink into herself more.

Forrest carefully paced toward the small stream that formed a pond further down where the Milotic was previously. The giant serpent followed them from above and watched as the man lowered her softly onto the grass, sitting her up so her feet drifted through the soft stream.

"That should relax you," he said, a feigned warning that the water would be cool but that Milotic enchanted the waters with some calming properties.

He remained next to her, still towering over her despite their sitting on the stream's bank. He kept his hand behind her back, prepared to catch her if she were to collapse again. He seemed far too familiar with a stranger than normal. However, Hoenn-natives were known for their hospitality among other Regions.

Now in the sun, she could feel the warmth and energy over her skin. It was soft against her face, soaking into her black hair.

Cloak and Dagger placed themselves on Forrest's other side, still eyeing him carefully, but Blink hurried next to Haven, almost burying himself in the fabric of her robe. Haven lifted her good hand and put her arm around him, gently stroking his yellow skin. After a moment Lace came trotting up, her little legs taking careful steps. Most of her horns had been broken off and Haven frowned in sympathy. Lace hated when she lost her horns. They could never grow back fast enough for her.

But balanced between the jagged pink nubs was a creamy egg with large green spots. Haven blinked at it, having forgotten it was the whole reason for the ordeal. She stared at it a moment before pulling her eyes away. Haven looked down at her bare feet, watched how the water played with the light and distorted their shape. She'd always loved how water changed things. She loved the challenge that came with trying to paint it. Her heart rate was slowing, her breath growing more even as the memories of last night became less sharp and immediate. Instead they were a heavy reality that sank into her. She opened her mouth, thinking of some sarcastic comment or half-hearted joke. But she couldn't find one.

"They wanted the egg," she finally said in a soft voice. Haven didn't know who 'they' were, or if Forrest even knew what she was talking about, but she couldn't stop herself from continuing, "Don't know why. Didn't really have time to ask." She was quiet for a long moment, eyes still on the water. "What," she started before cutting herself off. "What happened to them?" Because something must've happened to them, or else they would've taken the egg.

The man's eyes stayed on the flowing water. The lights twinkled, the blues and greens faded to different hues and back into each other. Beneath, the forms of stones and the sand ever shifting. Every part of Hoenn was beautiful despite humans' interference.

"Banette performed Dark Void, I believe," he said low. His focus on the waving glass surrounding their feet. Haven raised an eyebrow. She wasn't a battler. She didn't know every move.

"That sounds pleasant."

"Depending on her intent, they must be in a coma."

A blanket, woolen and rough, was placed over her shoulders from behind. The boy, Jerrek, wanted to cover her more appropriately, assuming she might be uncomfortable in little more than a robe torn and bloody. He then rushed to sit himself next to the Weepinbell, hoping to listen in on their conversation, too curious to know what really happened.

"Here," he said, his voice bright and smile wide across his face. The Pecha berry she'd taken a small bite from seemed to consume his hand as it stretched out for Haven to retrieve, if she could.

Haven glanced over at the kid and his offering before lifting her hand from Blink and taking the berry. She gave him a small smile in thanks before taking another bite. She looked back down at the water as she chewed. After she swallowed her eyes flicked up to look at Forrest.

"Thanks." The word seemed frail and small, unequipped for the gravity of what she was thanking him for. Her eyes darted back down. "They ever gonna wake up?"

"Possibly," he said, uncaring and cold. She stilled at his tone. "She can wake them up if need be. I haven't decided, yet. Probably want to get the Rangers involved before doing so," he thought to himself.

He didn't shift or move. Though his presence was as large as his body, he tried to make an attempt to move as little as possible as to not surprise or frighten any of them.

"So, I assume you didn't steal the egg..." he began, almost insinuating that she could have started the whole thing, almost.

Haven let out a huff and rolled her eyes, his words bringing up memories of her mother and sisters from when she was younger and more troublesome. Though… for all Haven knew, she did steal the egg. She noticed Dagger had gone oddly quiet on Forrest's other side.

"I was at the Daycare," she supplied, instead. "The guy broke in, trashed the place, grabbed the egg, and ran." What happened before that was irrelevant. "I chased after him." Like an idiot. Carefully, Haven pulled her feet out of the water and back on the shore.

The man just growled in his throat in response, disturbed by the fact that someone would do such a thing to an Egg, as well as Mrs. James. He could only imagine what she went through before he showed up.

But something confused him. There were two men with four Pokemon, yet she only referenced a "him," making him think it was some kind of ambush or ploy to get her to a vulnerable state, or even kill her, which weighed on his chest, making it hard for him to breathe for a moment.

"I'm feeling better. I should probably get back before they think I died." Haven stopped and closed her eyes against her poor phrasing. But she didn't want to deal with Rangers. Too many encounters with the law enforcement in her youth had left her uncomfortable with them. And really, she just wanted this all to be over.

"No, you need to -"

Standing was a challenge, but eventually she managed to get upright with minimal wincing. Her legs didn't feel entirely solid under her, but she was tired of feeling like an invalid. Blink's vine was curling around her wrist again. It seemed the ordeal had made him clingy.

"Ms. Haven, please," he began, rising to his feet next to her. She barely reached beneath his chest as they stood next to each other. His hands clasped her shoulders to make sure she wouldn't fall over. "You need to rest. Please. Just eat the berry and sit back down for a moment and we can go from there," he said, as if they were traveling together, as if he was responsible for her. "You're in no state to walk back to the Daycare." Haven shrugged off his hands and was already turning away from him.

"I walked from Mauville to the Daycare in a storm last night, I can do it again with some cuts and bruises." And a whole lot of new scars, apparently. Part of her knew she was just being stubborn, but the other part really didn't care.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out her four pokeballs. Cloak and Dagger had gotten up to move to her side, while Blink still clung to her and Lace looked up at her from underneath the egg. She paused to look at it. That egg had gotten her into a whole lot of trouble already. What was she supposed to do with it? Bring it back to the Daycare? What if someone came after it again? She could leave it with the Rangers, maybe… They were the most equipped to handle something like this, since she had no idea where it actually came from.

"Fine," Forrest said with a sigh. Haven looked at him over her shoulder, not expecting him to give up that easily.

The cloth around his neck was shoved into the duffle carried over by the boy, once again. He then slung the single strap across his torso. It pulled against his skin and hair with a noticable weight. He then took a few steps and quickly scooped the girl up into his arms as she let out a startled yelp. "You're not walking, though." It sounded tired, reprimanding.

He clearly wasn't going to just leave herself to hike back to the Daycare, barely recovered from a near-death battle between herself and two criminals. "And then you're going to rest properly when we get there."

"But Daddy..." the boy started to whine. "We have to get back home! Mommy's going to be worried."

"Your mother will be fine," he reassured the boy without much effort. It seemed he cared more about making sure a stranger was okay than reassure his own family or their own safety.

Haven was quickly regaining her senses, fidgeting in his arms. This was getting annoying.

"You know I've managed to get this far in life without an escort, right? And I already have a mother, so the doting, overprotective position is filled. Which means you can put me down and I can walk." If nothing else, at least this ordeal was working up her energy again. She looked over her shoulder to see the ground far below. How did people even get this tall? She started weighing her options, guessing at how likely she was to land on her feet if she jumped. Heck, even landing on her butt might be preferable to the mortification of having to be carried back.

"What you need right now is a doctor," he retorted with a vague playfulness in his tone. "And since neither of us possess the education for being qualified as such," – an immediate retort sprang to her tongue that he didn't know she wasn't a doctor, but she held it back – "I'm assuming you shouldn't walk after being sliced open, bitten, and poisoned and then falling unconscious. So excuse the 'doting,' please." She looked down at his words, knowing he had a point but unwilling to admit it. It was odd, though, to think that she was the person he was describing. There was a disconnect between Haven and whoever was attacked last night, like it was just a story or a picture in a book. Not her.

A quick hum, like an orb of air passing through his lungs, vibrated through his chest. "Just eat the berry and let me make sure you're going to live."

After a quick moment, he began to chuckle to himself. It was as if someone shared an amusing thought or quip, a light-hearted joke that was never voiced. He just hummed in agreement with a slight smile on his face. Haven raised an eyebrow up at Forrest before she remembered the Medicham.

Psychic types.

She sat in his arms, not quite relaxed, but resigning herself to… this. The Daycare couldn't be that far away. Haven would just suffer through this and then take a bath and throw herself into bed after. And… a quiet voice whispered in her mind that maybe she was relieved she wouldn't have to be by herself… not yet.

Haven gave a quiet sigh of defeat and reached a hand into her pocket to get her pokeballs.

"Cloak, grab the egg," she instructed. The Scrafty went and picked the egg up off of Lace before the Corsola was called back into her pokeball. Blink and Dagger followed soon after. They had all looked exhausted after the fight and keeping vigil over her after it had ended.

"What about the…" her words stumbled as she tried to think about what to call them. The attackers? The thieves? "Vegetables?" she settled on. "Just gonna leave them here?" She still hadn't seen them since she'd woken up. But… maybe that was for the best.

"Eh," he hummed. "They'll be taken care of. You needn't worry about it."

Around them, his Pokemon gathered, wandered along a path as if they knew the destination. They paced ahead or lagged behind. Hovered above and walked beside. Once they made it to the route proper, the path was much smoother. Still, she didn't notice much discomfort in his arms, holding stiff under her.

The storm of the night broke into a gleaming day. Clouds swiped across the light blue sky, the trees lining the path produced a strong sent of pollens and bark. The leaves rustled gently in passing breezes, giggling to themselves, or possibly at Haven. There were some trainers and breeders casually making their way to either Mauville or Verdanturf. Haven did her best to shrink in on herself, her warm face turned towards Forrest's chest and her long hair forming a dark curtain between herself and the many people. Cloak had the nerve to snicker to himself as he walked beside them, the traitor. Tourists stopped to capture images of the wild Pokemon native to the Region. A few stopped to try and take pictures of the man carrying the young lady with Pokemon all around them, but Medicham worked to make them forget about even seeing them.

Some mentioned him by name. "Mr. Johnson!" they called out. "How's the Academy doing?" Apparently the lumberjack was well known around these parts.

"Ah, Forrest, my boy. What's your father working on?" Very well known.

"Um, Mr. Johnson, sir," a small boy, younger than Jerrek, approached meekly. "Can I have an autograph?" Haven's head darted up to look at the child with wide, perplexed eyes. She then turned them on Forrest. Apparently she'd ended up in the arms of some local celebrity.

Of course, he had to turn down the poor kid, but his hand were full, quite literally. The man promised "later," and then turned his attention to Jerrek, deciding to follow them for a time until he was called by his older brother to continue to Verdanturf.

"What, did you pull Timmy out of a well or something?" But he didn't answer as they walked, instead exchanging pleasantries with the people they passed.

Some offered to help, but didn't seem disappointed to be turned down. Some were curious about the girl in his arms, but he made sure to keep their predicament between themselves. Haven was back to hiding behind her hair, as more and more people came up to them. The too-curious were sent away by Medicham or Milotic. There wasn't too much traffic on the Route, but enough to hinder their hike, nonetheless.

There was no way she'd run this far last night, she thought. Was it just that she was mortified and wanted it to end already, so it was dragging on for an eternity? Or was 'Mr. Johnson' just taking forever?

Soon enough the Daycare's familiar shape was in sight, the it looked different in the day. The shattered window on the side where the thief had broken in was definitely new. Relief coursed through her nonetheless, and she started pushing away from his chest.

"Ok, we're here, you've done your civic duty. I'm alive and everything." She was about to die of embarrassment, but she wouldn't dare tell him that. He might insist on carrying her up to her room. "So this has been lovely but you can put me down now."

He had to crouch a bit when he lowered her to the ground. Relief stirred in her chest when the ground didn't tip and sway under her when she stood. Haven was surprised to find herself missing the feeling of a body around her, though. Of being held. It'd been embarrassing as hell, but it'd also felt… safe. She wrapped her arms around herself, careful of her injured right arm. She absently tugged the blanket tighter around her shoulders.

"Hold on," Forrest said and whipped the duffle from off his back and onto the ground. "Take another."

Another Pecha berry was extended toward her. The affects on humans were, certainly, deafened, but they had some effect, nonetheless. Only highly concentrated forms of the fruit would have hastened effects, but they weren't at the Medical Centre in Lavaridge, so eating a fresh berry was next best thing. Haven did as she was told and reached out to grab it.

"Take care," he said. His dull, steely eyes pleaded with her to not strain herself and to seek some kind of medical attention, either in Mauville's small clinic or making it to Rustboro to be admitted into the Hospital. She would likely do neither of these things. But Haven met his gaze and in that moment she was reminded of her mother – how she'd be so intense with her worry that Haven would think she was angry. But she'd look in her eyes and see a soft, quiet kind of care. And so Haven only nodded obediently to Forrest.

"Thank you," she said again. "Really." The word seemed inadequate. Haven just stood there lamely for a moment before she opened her mouth again on impulse. "Don't just leave them like that," she blurted out. "The vegetables. Make sure they wake up. Please. Don't leave them to…" To die. Like they would've left her.

Between her smallness and his largeness, the difference between them forced her to crane her neck to look up at him. She closed her mouth and gave a small nod, unsure of what else to do. Then she turned on her heal (carefully and very slowly) and began the painful steps up to the door. Every time she moved pain seemed to thrum through her, up her back, across her shoulders, down her legs. Getting carried had probably been the right call. Not that she'd ever admit that to Forrest.

When Haven reached the door she pushed it open with her left hand and peaked her head around it. She probably should've stayed to check on Mrs. James last night, made sure she was ok. At least she'd gotten the egg back, whatever that was worth. She'd almost gotten killed for that thing, and Haven didn't even know why. She probably should've tried harder to find that out, but the idea of revisiting that night, talking to her attacker… her heart stuttered at the very thought.

Pushing the door open more, Haven took a step forward onto the cool wooden floor of the Daycare.

"Hello?" she called. "Mrs. James?"

[Kymera]

Naval Junkyard - Slateport City

Collab with - @Phoenix

Every alarm still functioning in Rai’s head was going off at once. “No” was not a good thing to hear. It meant: in a large underground facility where trained, brutal fighters (that anyone looking for extra muscle would jump at the chance to hire) were all at Dicky’s beck and call, while it was only he and Kye in a room with only one way out. It meant that Rai held far fewer cards than he’d been hoping for. And it made his options dwindle sharply. He was treading in dangerous waters, and neither he nor Kye were in any real shape to be fighting their way out and back to the surface.

If Dicky hadn’t believed his story about his identity -- if he’d somehow lost money betting the wrong way on his fight with Karen -- if he felt that the decommissioning of one of his fighters was unacceptable -- hell, if Dicky just didn’t like the fact he’d walked in and managed to win a fight against one of his proven people...

There were a lot of “ifs”, and Rai had seen people end up with a few extra holes in them before they found their way into a shallow hole in the ground for a whole lot less.

Rai shifted a little straighter in his seat as Dicky flicked his hand toward his female companion. His eyes tried to follow their every move. Kye shifted some under his seat, turning a little (under the guise of getting comfortable) to face the door behind them. It was comforting to know there was a set of eyes at his back, but not enough to help him relax to any degree. Especially when he felt the rumbling growl from Kye under him, as Dicky pointed over his shoulder.

Rai turned with a bit of shock to see a flutter of movement out of the corner of his eye and was on his feet in a heartbeat, whirling around to face whatever it was head-on.

But it wasn’t some muscle-headed brawler with orders to haul him out to the harbor. Rather, a tiny Chingling hovering silently in the air in front of him with a pleasant smile on its face.

He only had time to flinch as the air rippled slightly around them, and the incessant throbbing in his head started to ease away. The tight, sharp pinch in his side every time he took a breath was gone in a matter of moments. The adrenaline that had kept him functioning until that point seemed to abandon him altogether. This made him sway in place as he tried to puzzle out what was going on.

Rai turned back to Dicky as he produced a small scrap of paper and held out a hand for a pen from the woman in the room. He scribbled something down before leaning across the desk to push it toward Rai. He stared at it with a mix of confusion and suspicion as Dicky instructed him to burn it before he left the Pits. That look turned on Dicky as the Pit Boss instructed him to get some rest.

He needed it. His entire body was comfortably warm all of a sudden, and with only a bit of stiffness rather than outright pain. There was nothing to help Rai shake the sudden drowsiness away. Hell, even the metallic taste of blood had vanished from his mouth.

“What’s your angle?” Rai growled, dropping all pretense of polite conversation. He wished he sounded more menacing than the pathetic hoarse whisper he’d been able to manage.

The Pit Boss simply leaned back in his luxurious leather chair and shrugged his shoulders with his hands raised to either side of him. “You don’t want me as a part of your Pit, but you’re going to patch me up and let me rest up after I beat the ever loving hell out of one of your people? You already went through my shit. You know I don’t have a damn thing worth anything in there, and I’ve got enough money on me to maybe buy a moldy berry.”

"You believe your only worth to me is being a Pit Fighter?" Rhetorical. There was a dreadful sense of seriousness in his voice, now. Dicky wasn't playing around, and the suspicious act coming from Rai wasn't helping his case. Trying too hard often put him in a bad mood.

The room swayed again, and Rai had to lean forward to put both hands on Dicky’s desk to brace himself. Arceus, he was tired…

He shook his head to try and clear the pull fatigue had on him. “What is it you’re getting out of this? Wasting time and resources on someone who’s not going to make you a single pokeyen in the end?”

"Money isn't an issue," Dicky said simply, still serious. His eyes cut into the fading eyes of Rai as he spoke. "And as you can see, there are fighters to spare. And Karen wasn't all-that, anyway."

There it was; the callousness Rai had come to expect from the Pits. Fighters were only as good as their winning streaks, and Rai had just broken hers.

Silence allowed that statement to sink in. His voice echoed in the hollow of the chamber of stone and iron. "You're going to do something much more important for me. Do you understand?"

He spoke more slowly. The command to the foreign brawler sounded like a threat -- like a proposition in which the receiving side had no say. This wasn't a game, a lifestyle of the reckless and poor, the weak-minded and the unskilled. This was going to be a burden -- possibly a curse. Probably get him killed.

"Now, get out of here," he said, waving his hand which ushered in the goons who carried Rai into the "office" from before.

While Kye had tolerated the Chingling, the sudden appearance of Dicky’s thugs brought a full fledged snarl from Rai's pokemon, as the fire-type planted itself between them and his trainer. Rai knew he was on thin ice as it was, but he wasn't about to leave empty handed either.

He collected his bag while Kye kept the goons at bay, before reaching into his jacket and pulled an old, rumpled photograph out of a pocket. Or what was left of one anyway. It had been part of a larger picture at one point, beffore it had been torn out and had been handled so much that there were a good number of fine, spidery lines criss crossing the image of three young people all decked out in identical gear of their gang. Only one face had been marked out with particular savagery, leaving the other two intact. Rai pitched the photo back onto Dicky’s desk as he took the slip of paper meant for him.

"Keep in mind," Rai met his glare, before walking into the waiting custody of Dicky’s brute squad, "I don't work for free. Those two took something that belongs to me, and I will get it back."

"Keep in mind," Dicky echoed back in a clear threat, patience lost by the sense of pomposity not-yet deserved. "I'll have your tiny dick and shrivled nuts on my desk at the snap of my fingers."

They didn't call him "Dicky" for nothing.

They weren't gentle, and Rai hadn't expected them to be, as they ushered him into some kind of bunk room where other fighters seemed to sleep -- their only home the Pits -- their only family other Brawlers. There were a few bunks taken, with thin blankets barely covering their slumbering forms. Rai stumbled forward into the room as his escorts gave him a firm shove forward. He caught himself on one of the bunks in time to shoot a hateful look over his shoulder. They didn't seem to care, as they left him to his own devices.

He briefly considered following after them, but instead sank onto one of the flimsy mattresses. It felt like he'd been pumped full of lead, and Dicky’s advice to get some rest suddenly sounded like an excellent idea.

Rai didn’t bother with ceremony as he flopped back onto the bed. The heavy scent of untold numbers of bodies who’d laid there before him wafted up around him, as he did his best to find a spot where the springs weren’t digging into his back. Kye nudged his leg once, before clamoring up onto the bed and nestling into a spot against Rai’s side, wriggling around until they both managed to find some comfort in the bare conditions. Still, Rai decided as his eyes started to slip closed, Dicky’s hospitality of the threadbare mattress and snoring bunkmates aside, it sure as hell beat sleeping out in the dirt again.

A smile curled across his face as Dicky crossed his mind again. There was a small part of him that would pay every cent he had for the chance to see Dicky meet his old boss. Dicky was certainly a hardass if he commanded the respect of the musclebound thugs that seemed to keep springing out of the walls every time the man snapped his fingers. The office, that little display with his personal “companions”, even his threat to hack off Rai’s wedding tackle? It was hard for Rai not to outright laugh at. Dicky was a mean sonufabitch for damned sure. He just wasn’t crazy.

“He really isn’t. Is he, Kurin?”

Rai tried to launch himself out of bed at the sound of that smooth and drippingly saccharine voice, only to realize he’d been pinned to the bed. A sudden weight on his chest knocked the breath out of his lungs, and he looked up to see a gleaming white smile only inches from his face. The darkness did nothing to hide the utter delight that glimmered in his venom green eyes, or the twisted pleasure that was in every line on his gaunt face. Rai sucked in a sharp, shallow breath as he saw a red hot iron rod materialize in his hand and hover just above the nape of his neck. One ice cold hand clamped itself across Rai’s mouth, pressing him further back until it felt like the mattress was going to swallow him, as he leaned in close to Rai’s ear.

“But we know what crazy really is, don’t we?”

“JOHTO!”

Rai shot up ramrod straight in bed, as someone smacked the metal frame hard enough to nearly pitch it over. He was soaked through in a cold sweat and sucking down air like a dying man, trying to steady his heart trying to bash its way out of his chest. The world had narrowed down to a pinpoint around him as he tried to gather himself again, when a heavy hand dropped onto his shoulder. Rai turned and connected with an adrenaline fueled slug to whoever had a hold of him. He heard the sound of air evacuating someone’s lungs and hitting the ground, but it was another few seconds before he recognized the poor bastard as one of Dicky’s. Kye was at the end of the bed, half pawing at him, looking at him with concerned eyes, as Rai pieced it together that he’d only fallen asleep. He brushed a hand over Kye’s head, before swinging both legs off the bed to offer a hand up to the goon still trying to catch his breath.

“Sorry. Caught me at a bad time.” Rai mumbled the apology, only to have his hand slapped away.

“Just get the fuck out. Dicky wants you on your way.” He wheezed through clenched teeth.

Rai didn’t argue. He did his best to hide the fact he was shaking all over still and grabbed his bag, before nearly running out of the bunk room with no extra prodding.

”It was just a damn dream. Just breathe and calm the fuck down.” Rai scolded himself mentally, trying to find his way back out of the maze of rooms and tunnels of the complex. Once he could see the sky again, once he had somewhere to run again, it would be fine.

“You look more like a pile of Tauros shit than I do, limp dick.”

Now that voice, Rai did recognize. Through one of the doorways, he could see the partially assembled hospital the Pit had managed to put together to take care of their fighters without explaining to doctors, and eventually the Rangers, why they looked like they’d been a Sharpedo’s chew toy. Laying out on one of the stretchers, Rai could see Karen’s glaring face looking back at him.

“Why is everyone concerned with my damn dick around here?” Rai huffed in annoyance, oddly relieved to see his former opponent, “Is it because I’m the only one around here packing one, or what?”

“You ain’t ever seen Dicky in the showers.”

“And don’t want to.” Rai said with a sour expression, “I’m surprised you’re still in here. Figured you would have been out and about pretty quick.”

“Concussion.” Karen snapped trying to roll back over, “I’ll be out for a few weeks. Hitmonlee needs time to heal up anyway.”

Rai could hear the bitterness in her voice and the unspoken accusation. He’d been the one to lay her and her pokemon up. It would take weeks for them to heal, and even longer for them to earn back their reputation. He hadn’t asked to fight her exactly, but he’d been the one to do the damage all the same, and it didn’t look like Dicky would be as generous with fixing her up as he had been to Rai. He could apologize, but in the end, he’d done what he had to do to come out on top. She would have done the same. It was the silent understanding anyone who set foot in the Pits understood.

“Why are you in the Pits anyway?” Rai finally asked.

“The fuck do you care?” she spat back at him.

“No one is down here because they want to be.” Rai shrugged, “You’ve obviously been down here long enough to not be some nutjob looking for the thrill of beating the hell out of someone.”

“You gonna give me some friendship speech? Come closer so I can puke on your shoes, I’m already woozy as it is,” Karen replied in a barking laugh.

“I’ll just dump it back on your head.” Rai said with a smirk, “Bet it’ll be fun to change those bandages again.”

“You would know, eh?” She eyed him carefully, “You aren’t some wet nosed kid yourself. You’ve kept your face pretty, but I got a peak at what’s hiding under that shirt of yours. You look worse than I do.”

“Second time you’ve told me. One more and I might think you actually mean it.”

That finally earned him a laugh. It was hoarse and gruff, but it was genuine. Infectious too. Rai actually found himself chuckling along with Karen as she got in a good laugh at his expense. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Kye creep up and over to the bed enough to rest his head just next to Karen’s hand. He watched her expectantly for a moment, before giving her fingers the barest of nuzzles with his snout.

“You’re part of the reason I’m stuck in this bed.” She accused Kye directly, though there was no heat in her voice now. She begrudgingly picked up her hand and started to scratch at the top of Kye’s head until he started to grumble and purr contentedly. “You really are pathetic. The both of you put me in here and are the only ones who’ve given me the time of day since. Not that I expected any visitors, but…”

Karen didn’t have to finish her sentence. She was singing to the proverbial choir and knew it.

“You’ve got your reasons for being down here.” Rai said to break the silence between them, “So do I. There’s times that makes us opponents, but it doesn’t have to make us enemies.”

The look that passed across Karen’s face was one Rai couldn’t quite decipher before she quickly schooled it away into a far harder mask. She gave Kye one final pat on the head, before resettling herself in bed, but not before the fire-type managed to lick the tips of her retreating fingers.

“Go on and get outta here, Johto.” Karen waved him off, landing a firm slap to his chest, “I warned you I was already nauseous. Besides, s’no secret around here Dicky’s got some errand for you to run.”

“Worry about your own sorry ass.” Rai threw a hand up, rolling his eyes to hide a grin, “Or else I’m liable to kick it again when I get back.”

“Fucking foriegners…” Rai heard Karen grumble purposefully loud enough for him to hear even as he started to leave the infirmary, and his previous unease, behind him. He fished Dicky’s note back out of his pocket and frowned at the hurried handwriting that spelled out three solitary words: Chase Mauville Island.

Rai crumpled the scrap of paper in his hands, rolling it between his palms as he walked. He had next to no idea what it meant, and he only knew of Mauville thanks to one of the tourism brochures he’d read on the boat ride here.

“Good a place as any to start.” Rai resigned himself to the trip as he finally found the exit back into the city. He flicked the wadded up ball at Kye, who promptly spat a flash of flame at it, and watched as it turned to fine flecks of black ash at their feet. “Mauville City it is.”

[Phoenix]

Pokemon Day-Care - Route 117

"Did you get a good look at him?"
"Um," she began, a quiver in her voice. "Skinny, brown hair, pale, average height?"
"Any distinguishing features?"
"No...I was knocked over." Her voice grew frustrated, frightened.
"I understand. I apologize, Mrs. James," he said with a shallow bow. "Are you sure you don't want to go to the clinic? I can have an escort ready."
"Yes, I'm fine," she said with a sigh, falling slowly into a nearby chair.
"You don't mind if I stay to make sure you're okay? Make sure they don't come back?"
She nodded her head. Like a response, someone entered and called for the day-care lady by name. "Female," he thought, anticipating the thieves to return at any moment. His head snapped to the right in the direction of the entrance. "Excuse me."
His heavy feet pounded in a march down the narrow and brief hall. He shot out from behind the receptionist desk and almost too close to the girl. "Are you Ms. Haven that went after the thieves?" he commanded an answer more than asked a question. "If not, I'm afriad," he continued with no sense of fear, "you must leave the premises as this is an active crime scene."
From one "Forrest" and into another. But this one was shorter, stockier. Scars painted interesting designs across his body. Stories. War stories. Accidents.
He held an air of authority. Clearly from the Rangers. Despite this, he only wore training fatigues like most Area Rangers. His large boots, black leather, came up mid-calf. Between the top of these and the bottom of his shorts, barely mid-thigh, was sunned skin and wiry hair. A darkened pink line ran horizontally over his right knee. A few circles of scar tissue dotted his left thigh. The top of his shorts held in a tight tank top, revealing the pronounced crevasses of his torso. Much of his right shoulder was discolored. His right forearm showed gashes scarred-over and ppale. The wiry hair followed from his legs to his chest and arms. His nose had clearly been broken in the past. Stubble spread from his chin to the sides of his head. The top not quite short enough to accurately be classified as "stubble." His eyes were steel, a pale gray holding no warmth or softness. His chin pointed straight to the floor and the sides of his jaw wide and rounded. His ears could have been considered "large" but fit his misshapen nose enough to be features of the same person.
"Sergeant Broadson," a newly famiiar voice pounded from behind Haven. "How did you get stuck investigating this?"
"I was nearby Mr. Johnson," he said, his gae not leaving the girl before him.
"Leave her alone," he said with a chuckle. "She's been through enough." He paused, his large hand suddenly on the girl's shoulder. How could someone so large walk so quietly? "I'll tell you what I saw and show you were the criminals are."

Mauville City

Her rounded paw contacted an orb of metal. A light, red and dull, illuminated above her. She released a stead stream of electricity. A light of an equally dull green blinked just beside her. A distant "click" sounded beyond her, through the numerous metal panels surrounding her position. It was a shift in the generator, levers had switched back, a deafening experience any closer than she was currently. A yellow light flickered steadily and she released her output of electricity.
"Looks good, you two. Come on back," a voice reverberated through the tunnels and against the walls from the intercom system. "We've gotta head to Mauville."
Levers slammed and cables reacted. Doors and gates responded in time. She appreciated her Trainer always being a step ahead.
Her paws caught each rung of the narrow and story-long ladder built specifically for someone of a diminutive size. It was convenient, for the space available for the Heart of Hoenn was diminutive by comparison.
She took every rung thoughtfully, unlike her brother. She touched the pad of her left paw in a tentativeness of uncertainty despite having climbed the ladder countless times in her life. The iron grate floor under her couldn't be too secure, ever cautious of her surroundings and with lasting concern for her trainer and party mates.

The sun was too bright for a moment. Despite the many lights in New Mauville, the intensity of the sun's illumination was always awing. She rose a paw to shield her eyes until they adjusted more completely.
She enjoyed the walk to Mauville Proper, shave for the few times her brother touched her to take some of her elecricity, which always made her jump with a large spark due to the level of discomfort it produced.
"The Southeastern Quadrant has been experiencing power surges and outages for the past day. Sounds like our friends are back."
Her trainer was handsome, at least to her. She always felt like a daughter to the man more than a companion, a party member. Of course, a trainer of his caliber, the relation between the Pokemon and Trainer was infinitely more powerful than simply one's training.
That was her opinion, at least. She always felt strongest when she could physically feel her trainer's energy for her, for the battle, for the excitement, for the care and emotions he held for them.
She hopped onto Manectric's head. The walk to Vauville wasn't long, but she enjoyed the protection he offered against her brother. His attention would, at least, be on Manectric and not her. The hound would snap his faw at the rodent, usually his ears. Her brother would then default to playing "let's see how close I can get." Manectric's enthusiasm for the game always lacked any kind of shared amusement. But she could tell how he enjoyed it, however calmly.
"Okay, let me get a diagnostics report and then we'll head out."

Lilycove City

A low bass pounded through the harbor. Foreigners and business professionals were flushed from the ship and onto the docks. A constant hum, the overwhelming murmur of countless simultaneous conversations filled the city-streets. A Sealeo and Sheal turned acrobats performed stunts to passers-by for some kind of income between Coordination Events. Street vendors rang bells and called through projectors. It was chaos, comfortable and used to itself. Everyone walked in every direction with an unconscious fluidity only birth in cities such as these.
"Oh, Unova, huh?" the receptionst asked with a heightened sense of entusiasm. "I spent some time in Castellia for an internship. Certainly a completely different atmosphere compared to just Lilycove, here," she continued as she gathered some maps from under the counter. "But, yes: quite crowded."
Her fingers flicked through some papers. "This one's the map of the city," she said, extending the appropriate pamphlet forward. Her fingers caught an edge with a skilled deftness to spread it open.
"We're here," she explained, pointing to a red dot on the northwestern portion. "You might consider making it to the PokeStation to get these maps and more programmed into your device."
She couldn't remember the Unovan equivalent to the Hoennese Gauntlet and didn't seem concerned if the young man had such a device. Regardless, she moved on from her passing suggestion.
"The second floor, here," she said, gesturing to the current location," will have the supplies you seek."
Her smile looked rehearsed, practiced. Given her occupation, this wasn't surprising.
"And this is Lilycove, here," she said. "However, finding serious trainers might be difficult despite the population," she admitted. "Nothing too serious, anyway." She placed a finger just above a far-west corner of the main continental landmass.
Her finger then traced a path west and then slightly south. It now pointed to an island mountain in a bay. "Mr. MacKenzie can show you how the Pokemon League in Hoenn works. Here, on Mt. Pyre." She tapped her finger twice for emphasis. It then slid back east, past Lilycove, and over a long stretch of water.
"Directly east is the island of Mossdeep. Mr. Percival, his brother, would be more than willing to do so, as well."
Over the map appeared another brochure. This one listed times and locations. "And these are the Ferry schedules if you need them. You've missed the one to Mossdeep," she explained, having thumbed to its place in the charts. "You'll need to be quick to catch the Ferry to Mt. Pyre from Route 121, though."
The time for that ferry was an hour and a half from now, proving the scale of the Region and the map with this small gesture. She, then, folded everything back up neatly for the foreigner to collect them.
"Have a great time," she started as a farewell. "And welcome to Hoenn."

Slateport City

Puddles over pavement rippled and splashed with feet like organized Magikarp pacing through the city. The storm from the day before had passed, leaving the sun free to glimmer back from those puddles. Moisture filled the air, the heat slowly evaporating the wetness away. The air was heavy but smelled fresh, cleansed of dryness and dust. By the end of the day, that dryness would fill the air. For now, patrons enjoyed the temporarily-cooled heat from the sun.
The appropriately-named Slate Port was being visited by the city's Gym Leader, Admiral Pauline Chilikov. She, along with a team of architects, were baptizing a vessel to be added to the Admiral's already-sizable fleet. The Steel Serpent would be the largest and most heavily-armed ship once it proved seaworthy. Incoming cruisers would be postponed for the event. At least they'd have the unique opportunity to view the ceremony from the sea. The docks and narrow shores along the eastern edge of the city were flooded with people, when, just the day before, it was flooded with storm water.
Admiral Chilikov's voice projected with surprising clarity, even to those upon the S.S. Libra, the usual ceremonial speech for all new vessels: protecting Hoenn's people; protecting Hoenn's Pokemon; and, more importantly, the environment in which people and Pokemon lived. There was a list of energy-efficient features experimental and still in testing phases, just barely passing the tests allowing it to be used for transport of living beings.
The vessel slowly drifted northward as to allow the S.S. Libra to dock. The crowd surrounding the port didn't dissipate quickly, however. Passengers would be unloaded into the dense crowds. However, the general sense of manners would allow easy enough passage through.
Slateport Marketplace, as a whole, was holding a sale and festival for the day. The more intellectual individuals made their way to the Center of Marine Biology where admittance was free for the day. The Naval Base was holding presentations related to the Pokemon Rangers and all duties related to their positions. Recruits were signed up, the most in one day for a very long time.

[LegionPothIX]

Slateport City

Intermission

A large crowd milled about in the harbor as the S.S. Libra pulled in and the Steel Serpent pulled out. The exuberant child was intensely happy to see land once again after the long voyage and all but fell out of the boat into the storm cleared waters below. All of the city's main attractions, such as it's world renown bazaar styled market, were many meters away and the child was confused as to why they'd all gather hear to see another boat being christened.

With wood beneath her feat, and ground firmly beneath that, Sarah ran down the boardwalk with arms outstretched like a bird. She wove in and out between people on her way into town. As much as she wanted to play on the beach in the surf and tides, doing so while her pokemon languished in their balls was not something her new-found trainer's instincts would allow, and let all of them out to stretch their legs stubs, and/or slimy bits.

Not know what to do with it, she sheepishly clutched the egg her mother ad left her and nervously looked around for a knowledgeable person to help her. She had done her best to keep it warm and happy in her travels, and the volcano incense she was given as a consolation prize by Matt was a recent addition to that regiment. She was embarrassed to say that she didn't really know how to care for an egg, and it showed on her face.

As she wandered about Slateport Sarah found herself outside of the Pokemon Fanclub, where an elderly woman sat in a rocking chair on the building's porch. "Whatta' you got there, deary?" the elderly woman asked.

"Oh, it's..." Sarah inspected the egg for some indication of what may lie inside before giving up. "An egg," she finally said while presenting the egg to the elderly lady.

"It seems healthy," the elderly woman said as she received the egg. She pressed her ear to it and added "A bit light, but well cared for." The woman then gently pressed the top and bottom of the egg to test its firmness. "Still pretty new." The woman pointed to the splotches of coloration on the egg. Those markings, as well as the texture, and other indicators told what species of pokemon lie inside. "Ya'can tell what type it is by the way these rings fade." she added while pointing to some splotchy edges around some splotchy splotches.

Sarah simply didn't understand breeding at all, or how this old lady could know as much as she does about eggs. "It's, uhm, doing okay though, right?" she asked as her pokemon looked up at her signifying their concern matched her own.

"Oh, heavens yes. Just peachy," the old lady exclaimed, "You're doin' a fine job, miss...?"

"Ro," Sarah said with a sigh of relief.

"Miss Ro, our organization could always use more diligent trainers like yer'self. Would'ja like to join?"

Sarah nodded excitedly as her egg was returned to her, and the old lady laughed as it in-turn was returned to her bag. The packaged volcano incense was still warm to the touch after hours, and its packaging promised that to be normal, so Sarah placed it at the bottom of her bag beneath the egg. With her spare change of clothes wrapped around it she had a make-shift nest-slash-incubator.

Her doubts as a new mother were gently alleviated by the approving glance she caught the old lady's whimsical smile passing in her direction as the poke-fan got up to let the five of them in. "And, If'n ya want to bring the little lady around once she hatches, I'm sure folks around here would be happy to get a gander at a real live ghost type." the lady added as she presented Sarah with a registration form.

"Sure thing!" Sarah said as she hoisted the bag up, and on her back once more. Having now freed her hands to sign the registration form, and exchange contact info, Sarah was registered to the fan club's newsletter.

The lady responded with "Well, I'm sure you got lots to see here in Slateport, but do feel free to pop back in once in a while while though." the old lady said to the child whom nodded in response. "It ain't good to keep a young lass like yer'self cooped up too long, so you run along and have some fun now." the laddy added with a polite wave, and as an after thought tapped one of the printed copies of the newsletter "Stay in touch!"

There was so much to do in Slateport City that the child was at a loss for where to start. She surveyed the whole of the city, well, the part she could see from the Pokemon Fan Clubhouse entrance; just looking for anything to jump out at her. "Lets see if we can stir up a little fun," she said equally to the pokemon still in their balls, and the egg on her back.

[Lerouge]

Lilycove City -> Route 121: Mt. Pyre Docks

Ian smiled gently at the receptionist allowing her to complete, what seemed like, her much-rehearsed spiel before taking the paperwork and thanking her immensely for the help. Folding the brochures and placing it into his back pocket brought a surge of security through Ian as he made his way toward a sign marked "PokeStation." His left arm began folding up the sleeve of his right to reveal a watch-shaped device wrapped securely around his right wrist. To the untrained eye this seemed no more than a wrist-watch, but upon closer inspection, the screen was extended making the shape more elliptical, and scratches could be seen covering the entirety of the device, which was predominately black with strips of white marking the edges.

The HoloWatch was given to Ian upon completion of his first gym battle as a reward for his victory and was one of his most prized possessions. His attachment to the older model that he was wearing and the memory of Eevee fighting with the entirely of his strength made it impossible for Ian to even think about replacing it for the more popular HoloWatch 2.0 that currently dominated Unova. Upon reaching the Pokestation, his fingers pressed gently upon the HoloWatch screen bringing the device to life and creating a holographic screen bearing the company logo for a moment before vanishing and being replaced by a standard starting screen. A few flicks through the air with his free hand's finger brought up a Menu screen, which disappeared and was replaced with the floating word "Sync?" Confirming his decision with another push, the words transformed into a circle and filled in with color to reveal a Pokeball. The ball shook gently as if attempting to capture a wild Pokemon, causing Ian to smile at the charm of the device.

One... Two... Three... DING! The Pokeball stopped moving and vanished once again as the Pokestation screen presented Ian with a list of options including Heal, Shop, PokeBucks, UPDATE DEVICE, and Disconnect. Pressing upon Shop, the screen changed, and Ian's eyes began scrolling through a list of items ranging from Potions to Repels and began refilling his supplies. Several Hyper Potions, Revives, Ultra Balls, and Pokebucks later, Ian disconnected himself from the device and pulled up the digital map he had obtained.

"Well, Kabutops..." Ian muttered softly toward the Pokeballs hanging at his waist. "I suppose there is no better place to find strong Pokemon than a Pokemon Gym. Let's just hope we can make it in time for that Ferry." Retrieving the list of ferry schedules from his back pocket, Ian scrolled through the list and found the time for the next ferry toward Mt. Pyre and gasped in shock. "Only an hour away?!" Ian stuffed the paper back into his pocket and began making his way through the crowd back and back into the street outside of the department store. It felt as if the crowds had doubled in size while he was inside and a sense of panicked urgency surged through him and drove him to begin pushing through the crowd toward what the attendant had identified as Route 121.

The crowds seemed to thin as he reached the outskirts of Lilycove City and the roads were instead littered with street vendors attempting to push their merchandise that wasn't welcome on the main strip of shops. Ian jogged through the street, occasionally being forced to dodge past some of the more determined salespeople, and stopped with slight gasps for breath escaping him as the sign marked Route 121 appeared. He glanced down at the HoloWatch and took note of the amount of time he had left.

"Damn... this is going to be close." He muttered through his now calming breath and gazed past the gate toward the path beyond. It seemed to have been made to lead directly toward the docks with a small border gate blocking rows of thick trees leading into the wilderness of Hoenn. Slight movement could be seen through the branches indicating a lively collection of Pokemon surrounding him. Ian reached for his waist and retrieved the three Pokeballs hanging at his side revealing his partners in a flash of red light.

Jolteon and Kabutops took the chance to stretch gently before changing their gaze to match Ian's while Gengar floated overhead rolling back and forth in the air with excitement.

"Are you guys ready? First step toward our new journey, we promised we would take it together." He whispered gently toward his partners and a smile traced his lips. The sense of excitement and nervousness coursed in waves throughout his body causing goose bumps to appear across his arm. "Let's go."

With the words the group was off, Ian internally blessing his own athletic ability as his body erupted into a swift jog with the rest of his Pokemon following suit. Jolteon and Kabutops took off as if they were blurs, a sense of competition sparking between them as Gengar floated in circles around his trainer clapping and laughing hysterically. Ian knew that they didn't have long to reach the port before the boat was going to leave yet his mind could only focus on how amazing it felt to be out with his Pokemon on a new journey. Memories of the countless hours he spent imagining his battle against the great legends of Hoenn rushed through his head and anticipation sparked his energy.

Ian pushed just a little harder, and his movements turned into a run. He forced himself to move as fast as his muscles could take him as images of Jolteon and Kabutops running alongside him with Gengar overhead filled his mind, chasing some unknown foe they were destined to capture. He knew he had to be strong for them just as they wanted to be strong for him. Ian felt his limit approaching as his partners appeared into his sights watching him and waiting for him to catch up before running too far ahead. The glare Kabutops was giving Jolteon made it clear who the winner of their small race had been and Ian couldn't help but laugh through his gasps for breath as he approached them.

"We are going to make it just in time for the ferry," Ian muttered, wiping sweat from his forehead, as his eyes met with a building alongside the road that had been the reason for his Pokemon stopping. The building seemed as if it was beautiful once and had paintings of various Pokemon strewn across the walls that had begun to fade with time. Ian's body moved closer toward the building as he swatted away vines that had started to grow down from the roof and made his way toward the door. A sign marked "Do Not Enter" hung crookedly and covered a title plate for the building on a door that had been marked with scratched words. Ian leaned closer and inspected the words wiping away dust to read what they said.

"You aren't welcome here."

"Respect my Pokemon you monsters."

"This is a site for recovery! Not business!"

Ian stared at the words and could feel the malice that seemed to radiate off the very markings themselves. His eyes returned to the Do Not Enter sign and moved it aside to reveal the true title of the building: Safari Zone. There had always been rumors of other regions having zones dedicated solely to catching Pokemon, and this building must have been the remnants of the Hoenn Safari Zone. The building was very cleverly placed, surrounded on both sides by thick trees it created a natural boundary dividing the main roads and the former safari grounds. Ian walked away from the entrance and toward the side of the building and found, hidden amongst the trees, a dark fence. The thought of rare Pokemon being trapped behind this building crossed his mind even though he knew how ridiculous of an idea it would be to try and keep the Pokemon trapped. Most probably abandoned the site when the staff did and settled into the nearby surroundings or relocated alongside the Safari Zone itself, was it perhaps somewhere else in Hoenn now?

Ian turned away from the gate and his eyes made contact with the reason for the Safari Zone's failure in the distance: Mt. Pyre. A quick glance at his HoloWatch verified he had a few minutes remaining before having to be on board ferry and left the Pokemon Safari behind for the docks in the distance. Life had returned now that he had arrived at the docks with various groups of other people standing alongside the ferry in preparation for departure. The numbers weren't staggering as if they were in Lilycove, but it seemed a combination of trainers, those wishing to share their respects to the Pokemon of Mt. Pyre, and ferry attendants caused a gentle hum of energy to flow through the area. Ian turned toward his Pokemon and nodded slightly, which seemed to indicate for the others to group in closer as the four joined the queue of passengers.

[Phoenix]

Mt. Pyre

A place of sorrow, mourning, absorbs these energies. These energies are powerful, genuine, forever. Regions have their own cemeteries. They always hold an air so much different than elsewhere. They do not hold the excitement of adventure or the thrills of battles. They do not hold the bustle of cities or the enthrallment of Contest. Their purpose is pointed, singular.
The waters in the Pyre Bay are glass, stained with clouds of gray, grief sinking into the waters. They still, turn silent, forever respecting the need for uninterupted sobs, unmolested wails. They are formless and opaque, rinkeled in ageless death.
The air pushes against them as if embracing for comfort, consoling. It's heavy, pushes against the chest. It makes one's conscious of their breating. Each breath is a blessing and should be cherished, understood as temporary and sometimes fleeting. It feels like one's heart tugs down into the waters to be cleansed, baptized, claimed for their own. It gasps, pulling at them like strings, pulling the hearts they've claimed.
There is no current. Foam does not form against the base of the slate cone at their center. The mountain ripples, the air fossilizing the tears shed, burying the cries and wails released here. It commands reverence. It demands silence. Echoes fall into the slate, taking the life of voice to sustain itself. It saps the breath away, attracts the gaze of all, and houses the restless spirits until they are ready to release the corporeal. Mt. Pyre is the center of a realm beyond this. It is a portal to the beyond for those who belong there. It is the end to the beginning.
The cavernous entrance constantly released a warm, heavy breath, always exhaling the last gasp. The gray slate covered the inside as well as out. However, the air, itself, was dead, unmoving. Pacing through the oppression, depression, with improper intent felt offensive. The atmosphere demanded the acknowledgement of each tomb and grave. Individuals froze before the memory of those past. Simply seeing a name, an engraving, etched in their minds the fact that the experience of life was over. The expressions of love, fear, and excitement would never again be shared with them.
Light dulled in their memory. Light exposes distractions. The need for proper mourning, even nature understood. Illumination is life. It was gray and haze required for the somber and sorrow siging from the living that was necessary for such an atmosphere.
Still, he smiled. The darkness, the depression, was certainly justified. But the life that was lived, however briefly, must be celebrated. Those experiences of love, fear, and excitement is what life is about. In death, rebirth occurs. It is the end of what was finished. A soul completed its meaning in this life and must be recreated for a new purpose. And this is what made him smile. Well, that and Sableye and Banette guiding new spirits to the realm where they belonged, after a good ribbing, of course.
"Mr. Gutermuth," a whispered through the shadows. "You have a challenger."

Slateport City

A small group of girls huddled around - something. Fawning, or laughing at - something. They were no older than 12 and a Skitty and Zigzagoon passively interacted with them. They nuzzled their heads into their calves, resulting in a subconscious scratch of their heads as the girls looked down and admired - whatever it was that commanded their attentions. One of the girls, almost taller than the rest, but certainly rounder, looked the most excited. Her round face was soft, supple. The yellow curls that framed her cheeks somehow gave her prominent cheekbones. Her rich, brown eyes shone gold in the purity of the sun. The ruffled sundress creased around her angled joints in the color of the post-storm sky above. "Look! Look!"
White sharded out between them. It was encouraged by the others but seemed to occur on its own. They shifted slightly, though it seemed the brightness before them did not harm their eyes. Their hands did not raise to shield them, they did not squint to filter less of the light into their pupils. It was brightness, pure and harmless. They "oo-ed" as the illumination dulled and finally ceased. "Yay!" the golden sky girl called out to her crowd as if they weren't there to witness it themselves. "Silcoon!"
The Skitty approached and pawed at the evolved Wurmple. The girls "aw-ed" in response. Their crying increased when Zigzagoon licked its silk shell. "He was right! I'm going to have a Beautifly!"
The other girls nodded and "ah-ed," looking at each other, validating the girl's apparent efforts to manipulate the evolution of the creature. "And I'll have a stronger connection with her since I didn't catch her as a Silcoon," she explained, reciting what was explained to her about the process she utilized for the event. "Silcoon, once she evolves, and I are going to be the Top Coordinators one day!" she promised, seemingly more to herself than to the other girls around her.
"Olivia!" another girl named the golden sky. "Let's get practicing now and learn what Silcoon can do!" Her excited fingertips rubbed Zigzagoon's head.
This girl looked much more mature than Olivia, though couldn't have been any older. She had hair of obsidian in waves cascading to her mid-back. The front was pulled back and braided. Her face was elegantly angled. Her eyes were a bright, almost sparkling as emeralds, green that complimented her pale olive skin. She wore jeans, proper yet fitted, with a light white blouse and undershirt. She dressed smart for someone so young.
"I don't see the point, Ezma," Olivia said, naming the smart-dresser. She held up an orb wrapped in a blue paper. "I'm just going to evolve her now."
"You know," Ezma began tentatively. Her face showed sadness, a sympathy for the Silcoon. "You really shouldn't do that. What's the point trying to build a relationship if you're not going to put in the effort?"
"What do you know, Ezmarelda?" Olivia snapped back with condescension and dropped three of the candies to the ground so that the Silcoon could eat them without much effort.

[c3p-0h]

Daycare

Haven looked over her shoulder to see Forrest leading the Ranger away. It seemed he just couldn't help but be the hero. The corner of her mouth quirked up in gratitude. Jerrek, following behind his father, turned around one last time to wave at Haven. She raised a hand and gave a small wave back, her smile growing. She watched them grow distant until they were dots on the horizon before finally turning and walking through the door of the Daycare. Cloak walked beside her, still carrying the egg.

"Oh! Haven!" Mrs. James’ voice rustled through the air like shivering leaves in a storm as she stepped through the door on the opposite end of the lobby. She seemed frailer than she'd been last night, less steady on her feet. The skin under her eyes was full and dark, the soft wrinkles heavy and tired. But they were lighter when her eyes focused on Haven's wayward form. "Thank goodness! I thought– when you didn't come back I was so worried, and look at you! Heavens, my girl!"

Relief at seeing the old woman well quickly morphed to concern as she ran herself breathless with her talking and shuffling to Haven. Cloak looked from Mrs. James to Haven and back again, not sure what the best course of action was. In the end he opted to stay where he was as Haven hurried forward to meet Mrs. James halfway.

"I'm sorry, I," Haven started weakly as Mrs. James reached her. Papery hands fluttered to cup Haven's cheeks and hold her shoulders, flitting about Haven like they were afraid she'd shatter. "I got the egg back?" Mrs. James blinked at that. Her eyes darted about until they landed on the Scrafty behind haven, still holding the spotted egg. A bark of a laugh erupted out of Mrs. James.

"So you did!" But her delight quickly sobered as she leveled Haven with a look. Her voice took on a familiar tone – a scolding, maternal sort of worry that Haven remembered from too many conversations with her mother. "I'm not sure it was worth all that you went through for it. That was reckless." Understatement of the decade. "You worried me half to death." There was a helplessness in Mrs. James' voice that echoed in Haven, plucking a familiar guilt.

Haven took a step back from Mrs. James, her grip tightening the blanket around her shoulders. Mrs. James' hands fell a bit.

"Sorry," she murmured. The word fell flat. "I'm happy you're ok, too." Mrs. James' hands fell completely to her side as she looked at Haven for a long moment. Then her face softened with a warm smile that made a lump form in Haven's throat.

"You have nothing to apologize for, dear. You did a very brave thing. Foolish. But brave." She'd closed the distance between them again, unwilling to let Haven retreat. A weathered hand came to rest on Haven's shoulder. "And I'm happy to have you back here safe. It seems the two of us are more durable than we look." Mrs. James gave Haven a cheeky wink and Haven couldn't help the smile curling the corner of her mouth. "I think we could both use some rest, hmm? How about you get washed up in your room and lunch will be ready in a few hours." Haven nodded at her instructions, unable to say no to the old woman and her forceful maternalism. Mrs. James gave her another long look, her hand moving to cup Haven's cheek again for the briefest of seconds. Then she nodded to herself, stepped away, and turned to walk back out of the door she'd come from.

Haven let out a slow, quiet breath. Mrs. James was ok.

---

She stood in the bathroom, bare feet on the cold tile floor. There was a layer of dried mud caked onto the soles of her feet, already flaking off in brittle shards. It trailed around her heels and up her calves, dark splatters and speckles painting her skin. It had dried into the ruined fabric of her robe, making it heavy and stiff. Haven undid the knot at her waist before lifting her hands and sliding the oversized robe off of her shoulders. It landed dully on the ground around her feet.

Haven stared at her reflection in the mirror across from her for a long moment, the image still but for the slight rise and fall of her chest. Her hair was a mess – a dark tangle of knots, tendrils of blood and dirt hanging around her face and down her back. Her eyes, nearly black, looked dully back at her. Her skin was a shocking white save for the dark half-moons under her eyes, the mud, and the shock of bruises drawn across her body. She didn't remember most of them. Her right arm was still a mess of spiderweb lines, pink scar tissue mapping her veins and lining the puncture holes.

Exhaustion leaked through her bones, replacing her marrow.

She was a ghost – some tragic heroine remembered around a campfire. Looking at herself, Haven wasn't sure she was real.

---

She used her towel to wipe down the foggy mirror, clearing streaks in the mist until her face was a sharp image looking back at her. She was finally clean. The dirt and blood were gone and her hair hung in straight wet clumps down her back and over her shoulders. Now the only remnants of the night before were the reminders carved into her body. She felt more human. But she still didn't quite feel like Haven.

Turning around, she looked over her shoulder to finally see the scars on her back.

Her arm curled up behind her back as Haven looked over her shoulder. Her skin was no longer so startlingly pale – the heat of the shower had flushed her pink, but the great X on her back still stood out. Shining scar tissue cut across her back, straight and surgical, perfect lines that hadn't been there yesterday. Her finger grazed the bottom edge of the X, puckered pink tissue near her right hip. The new, sewn-together flesh pulled tightly over her shoulder blade as she moved. The Scyther had –

Haven darted to the toilet and threw up.

---

"Oh, shit," Haven murmured to herself as she looked at her tablet. She was sitting in her bed, back against the wall. The heavy comforter was pulled over her legs. The weight of her own clothes was familiar on her – her old paint-stained jacket and the sweatpants she normally reserved for sleep were a comfortable layer, covering her skin and bruises and scars. The egg was resting on the corner of the bed, propped up between the walls. Her team was all around her, close and too alert to be relaxed. Blink was nestled against her side, vines curled up the length of her arm like he was afraid to let her go. Cloak and Dagger were sitting on the far end of the bed, playing some game that mostly involved slapping each other’s hands. Lace was on Haven’s lap, Forrest’s blanket wrapped around her jagged, rocky body. Haven had kicked herself when she’d realized she’d forgotten to give it back to him. He seemed the type to brush it off and just flat out give it to her, but still… Haven should have at least offered it back.

But for the moment, the blanket was forgotten. She was looking down at her tablet, reading a news headline from ten years ago.

Forrest Johnson named Hoenn’s Champion

There was an image of a younger Forrest and a team of Pokemon, smiling and holding an enormous trophy. Apparently her savior was the former regional Champion. Well. That explained things.

Too tired to do much, but too restless to sleep, Haven had picked up her tablet after her shower in the hopes of finding some distraction on the internet. After a few inane videos and trivia websites, she’d settled on typing in Forrest’s name to the search bar. She hadn’t expected the results to be so numerous.

"Guess I was in good hands…” The vines around her arm tightened at the hollow sound of her voice.

---

Haven drummed her fingers on her knee and bit the corner of her lip as the dial tone sounded from her tablet, a picture of her sister's face appearing above a green phone icon.

Dialing…

"Hello?" Her sister's voice, stained metallic by the call, came out of the tablet. Haven's heart caught in her throat, and for half an instant she was frozen.

"Rose, hey." The words came out too quickly, forced and light.

"Haven?" Rose sounded surprised, a question in her voice. "What’s up? Everything ok?" She spoke with a cautious sort of curiosity. But that was to be expected – Haven almost never called outside of her scheduled weekly calls to their mom.

"You have no faith in me," Haven said with mock hurt, a small smile lifting her mouth. "What, I can’t call my big sister just to hear her voice? I always gotta be in trouble?" Rose was silent on the other line for a long moment.

"Yes." Haven huffed and rolled her eyes, her smile growing. She’d given her family too much crap growing up to expect a different answer.

But this time… she had called to hear Rose’s voice. The lump in her throat was building, forcing its way up.

She’d thought she’d never get to talk to her sister again.

"I just…" She trailed off, hating the slight quiver in her words. Cloak and Dagger had paused their game across from her, and were both watching Haven. She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her lips together.

"Hae?" Rose’s tone had changed. It was tender, with a softness that Haven rarely saw. Her hands began to shake and her eyes burned. "Haven, what –"

"Sorry," Haven cut her off. Her voice was growing thicker. "I was calling to ask if I left my green dress at home the last time I visited, but I just found it." The lie came out in a rush, her voice cracking on the last syllable. Haven slapped her hand over her mouth as her shoulders started shaking. Her breath was coming out in hasty, shallow gasps.

"I gotta go," she said at the same time Rose spoke, trying to get a word in. Haven hit the button on her tablet’s screen to hang up, cutting off her sister’s alarmed voice.

As soon as the call disconnected her gasps grew louder, barely contained. Her hands were back over her mouth, clasped tightly as though they alone would keep her emotions at bay. Squeezing her eyes shut, she felt tears burn hot tracks down her face. Her shoulders were shuddering, moving with the force of unvoiced sobs. Her team let out sharp cries of alarm and all of them moved to surround her.

The screen of her tablet lit up again as Rose tried to call her. In a fit Haven swatted her tablet off of her lap and heard it clatter to the ground.

Her arms folded in front of her stomach, her fingers clawing tightly at the fabric of her jacket. A cry finally escaped her, pained and desperate. The terror of the night before flooded back to her, the piercing agony that had been nearly paralyzing – nearly fatal.

She’d almost died. She’d thought she was going to die.

Haven couldn’t hold back her sobs anymore as they cut through the air of her small room. She bent over, curling in on herself where she sat on the bed. Someone had placed a hand on her back. Lace, rough and jagged even through the blanket, was forcing herself back onto Haven’s lap, unwilling to let her shrink away.

Lace – with her broken horns. Haven hadn’t been the only one to almost die. Her entire team had been hurt.

"I’m sorry," she gasped out between her sobs. "I’m so sorry, I’m sorry, I –" Another cry cut her off. Lace let out a pained chirp and tried to burrow deeper into Haven’s stomach. Her arms came to wrap around the little Corsola, ignoring the jagged points. Lace had lost her horns. Cloak and Dagger had both been knocked out. Blink –

Blink hated battles. It’d taken him so long to even be comfortable with other Pokemon when Haven had first found him.

"I’m sorry." It was all she could say, again and again. Grief and terror mixed with guilt, overpowering her. Haven was drowning in it. She’d survived just to die in this flood, unable to breathe, she couldn’t breathe –

Her breaths were too short, too quick, piercing the air like shards of glass. Her head was spinning. She needed more air but she couldn’t stop gasping.

She clapped her hands back over her mouth, sure to cover her nose, too. Haven shut her eyes, her eyebrows pinching together as she held her breath. Her lungs, already overworked, started to burn like her eyes. When Haven couldn’t bear it any longer, she released her hands. With a loud gasp, air flooded her lungs and immediately her head started clearing.

Haven took deep, shuddering swallows of air. Her breath still hitched now and then. Her face was still wet, but the tears eventually stopped flowing so freely. She was still save for the heavy rise and fall of her breathing and the way she trembled. She felt hollow, like the act of crying had emptied her. She’d carved out everything that had been inside of her.

Haven sniffled. She reached up and swiped futilely at her cheek. Another sniff.

Eventually she forced herself to move. Heavy, tired arms pushed at the comforter on top of her legs, pushing them back so Haven could slip deeper into the bed and curl on her side. She opened it up more and Lace waddled in next to her. Dagger placed herself on top of Haven’s legs, curling up to be a steady, grounding weight there. Cloak sat next to Haven’s pillow, back against the wall. On her other side, Blink nestled against her back.

She watched her tablet’s screen light up again, this time with her mother’s face – her tired eyes and warm smile. Haven let her tablet ring on the floor.

[Phoenix]

Route 117

"What were you doing up here, anyway?"
"Camping with my son."
"Must be nice to have the time."
"Heh, fuck you," Forrest said and swung a fist at the sergeant's arm.
Broadson looked back at the boy, the attempted jab with some humor not quite reaching the man. "That's no way to speak around children." The chastisement seemed genuine. Forrest just remained silent.
"Did he see any of it?"
"No."
"Daddy," a long whine sounded behind them. "I'm hungry."
"You're a big boy, now. You don't need to whine."
The boy huffed and pushed fists toward the ground. "I'm not whining," he said through fumed pouts.
Forrest stopped and shed off the rucksack from his back. He pushed a few things aside and pulled out an Oran berry. "This will have to do until we get back home," he said with a touch of sympathy.
"Thank you," Jerrek said with brows pushed into his eyes, trying to look serious in an attempt to seem mature. He took the berry in his hands and nibbled at it with temperance.

"It takes a day to get from here to Petalburg," Broadson explained as if Forrest didn't know how far away his own home was.
"It takes a day and a half," Forrest corrected in passing. "But -" he started and pointed to the sky. Flygon swirled around above them. Barely a dot in the sky, but he could be reached easily enough.
Jerrek ate his berry - contented and slowly trailing behind the adults. Broadson offered a cigarette to Forrest and they both puffed as they hiked back to the "scene of the crime." Jerrek was naive enough to not be disturbed by returning to a place where lifeless bodies lied. He was more concerned with "just trying" a cigarette because he thought it was cool and mature.

"He should really go home. He doesn't belong here."
Forrest just gazed at Broadson sideways. The sergeant always had strong opinions of what was appropriate for others. There was nothing inherently wrong with protecting innocence. Forrest just had a very different philosophy about raising children to become competent adult.
"I'm not a kid!" Jerrek called at the sergeant. "Sir," he added sheepishly, recognizing his outburst as disrespectful to law enforcement. "I'm strong enough to handle myself, sir." Again, his brows edged into his eyes.
"No offense, kid, but you're not old enough for this sort of thing," Broadson explained rather coldly.
"I'm not a kid!" he almost screamed back. "Please! - Sir! I won't do nothin' or touch nothin'!"
"- Please," Forrest said low and quiet as he placed an arm on Broadson's bare shoulder. "I'll make sure he doesn't compromise anything."
"That's not the -" Broadson began to argue. But he stopped himself and let out a short sigh. "Fine, but you do what I or your father tells you. And you stay back." The gray ice of his irises shot toward the boy's soft blues, making him wince as if struck. Jerrek just nodded and put his fingertips to his temple in a mock salute, not knowing what else to do as he was temporarily mute.

"Milotic and Medicham made sure they weren't dead. Banette has control over that now, though." His tone was flat, clinical.
Sergeant Broadson stepped through the shaded grass and inspected the body closest to them. "How many are there?"
"Two men. Rhyhorn, Fearow, Arbok, Tauros, Scyther."
"What made you take such action?"
"A dead girl in the mud. They were fucking sketchy-as-shit, too," he said, pointing to the man stretched but also curled before them.
The sergeant checked for a pulse - faint, slow - and then rose to inspect the other bodies scattered around. They were no less than 10 feet away from each other and all equally contorted against the ground. The other man was further in the forest, barely in sight from the man they hovered over now.
"Was your intent to kill them?"
"Um..." it sounded pondering rather than guilty. "I guess so."
Both knew it was simply for the record. Neither could imagine Forrest actually getting incarcerated (considering the evidence against the attackers).
"Has anything else like this happened recently?" Forrest asked. It was now his turn to question.
"Well, we've had an influx of missing-persons claims."
Both also knew it was unlikely this incident could explain those missing. But it crossed their minds in a moment of silence. They steeled themselves for what the truth could reveal to them.
"Jerrek, honey," Forrest said, crouching down to level with the boy who was a distance away which encouraged him to approach. Half his attention was on Masquerain who fluttered just overhead, wanting to play with the boy despite his need to be "mature."
"You're going to go home. Tell your mother that I'll be home for dinner."
"But sir," he said, arms stiff by his side in an attempt to show an appropriate level of restraints and composure. "I won't interfere."
"I know you won't, hon," Forrest said and placed a hand over the whole of the boy's upper arm. His tone was soft despite it's resonance. "I can't promise your safety."
"But all of them are here," Jerrek argued back with a hand raised toward the air in a gesture to all of his father's Pokemon while quickly losing his composure.
"There's too many of them," he started, indicating the Voided across the ground, "and we don't know of what they're capable or if there's anyone watching us and intending to harm us to protect their friends."
Jerrek was silent and considered his father's calm and clear diagnosis of the current situation. His stomach interrupted with a violent curling - a plea that made even Forrest raise his heavy eyebrows. Jerrek looked down, equally surprised by the sound. He released a long sigh and slouched his shoulders. "Fine," he said.
"Don't slouch," Forrest snapped the correction seemingly out-of-place and with robustness. The boy immediately snapped back into a proper posture.
"Good-bye, Sergeant Broadson," Jerrek said with a voice pushed low and performed a proper salute, rigid and strained with his chest out and heels together.
The sergeant performed an equally respectful salute to the boy, but remembered that the eyes were to look straight ahead and past all distractions. Being so much taller than Jerrek, it looked like Broadson saluted to Masquerain, who continued to flutter obliviously in the close distance.
Jerrek made the mental note to remember that next time.
Flygon had alit behind the boy, having already been notified of the request of his services. Forrest rose to twice his son's height and reached a hand to Flygon's chin to give a friendly pat as a voiceless "thanks." Jerrek made the effort to mount the creature and the two rocketed up and then south. Forrest watched and waved despite not being able to see their outlines clearly. Regardless, it made him feel better about leaving his son.

"You ready?" Broadson asked.
Forrest looked over to Medicham who gave a mental nod. Banette's voice echoed from beyond, a snicker that reverberated against their skulls. Forrest gave a single nod for the three of them.
The Dark Void used to cast their souls away appeared around the bodies of the criminals. The rings that formed smoked gold. The haze wafted toward the ring's center just above the "victim's" chests. The fog sank and made their torsos glow.
After a few moments, they began to groan and cry with pain and soreness. One of each of Forrest's Pokemon stood next to them, making sure they wouldn't try to run. Forrest stood with Sergeant Broadson and his Carracosta.
Forrest stepped to squat next to the criminal they stood over. "Don't make any sudden movements," he exhaled a heavy whisper against the man's cheek as if he cared about his well-being.
"What's your name?" Broadson asked much more coldly.
"Fuck," was all he could groan.
The two of them waited for the man to collect himself and serve a proper punishment. Broadson squatted down and mirrored Forrest on the other side of the criminal's head. He studied it to see if he was recognizable. There was nothing remarkable about his gaunt and pale body. A few tattoos were etched into his chest and arms, but nothing notable. Regardless, he was the prime suspect for the crime against Mrs. James.
Broadson shifted his left foot toward the man's hand and began to apply weight to the ball of his foot. "Fuuuuuuck!" the man groaned a howl. He kept whining and Broadson never let off.
"Speak up, I can't hear you," Broadson said in a bored tone.
"Ahhhh. Get off my fuckin' 'and!" he continued to yell through a sore and dry throat.
There's something here, but I can't quite get to it.
Forrest rose quickly and trotted toward the other man where Medicham meditated. Broadson could get what he could from that man, but Medicham could penetrate the minds of others with much less physical consequence. What's in the way?
The...Hospital? Or is it the Institute? she asked and showed the vision to Forrest to see if his opinion could shed more light on the fogged thoughts.
It's definitely Fairfax, was all he could determine. Can you get a face?
I'm losing it. He's resisting me. He's surprisingly strong.
Forrest just remained silent and watched as the man, possibly around his own age but far worse off, moved his face as if casting a spell. He looked toward Medicham and thought just use Disable if he tries to flee.
The man's eyes flickered and his face contorted. He turned his neck slowly, seeing a large and shirtless man with a Medicham hovering over him. He knew not to pick a fight and instead sighed and rolled his eyes. "Fuck me, he's going to kill us."
"Sounds like your serious," Forrest said, evaluating his statements like some kind of psychologist.
"I am."
"Who's 'he'?"
The man just scoffed at the question, which made him cough. The dryness in his throat made it difficult for him to stop.
"Here," Forrest said and reached over to pour some water into his mouth.
The man took it without protest. He understood what kind of trouble he was in and had already submitted himself to failure, to death. He also knew he couldn't cooperate.
"If you just tell us who -" Forrest began.
"You don't understand. When you find out, you'll know why."

"Go bring-" Broadson paused, unable to summon the information he needed to communicated. "Keeper! What was that name?"
"Ms. Haven Dao from Goldenrod. Daughter to-"
"...Ms. Dao to your home. She'll be safest there," Broadson finished with the command. The woman was cut from her recitation and accepted the interruption. She went back to recording the immediate surroundings with the other Keepers, understanding she was under the Sergeant's command for this mission.
"Bulwark Lark and I will take them," he started again, nodding his head toward the criminals not yet off the ground, "to Rustboro to get them healed up and then into custody. We have only enough Rangers to stake out the Day-care. We believe Ms. Haven could be the target of another attack, however. But the General won't provide an escort for a single foreigner who hasn't even been in the region very long."
"Understood," Forrest said, lifting the rucksack and fastening it back on.
"You'd best leave now if you want to get back for dinner," Broadson teased.
Forrest just saluted and then hiked with some vigor out of the forest just off the path of Route 117. He took this chance to exercise some and started to run with the rucksack and alongside his Pokemon. By the time he reached the Day-care, his legs and lungs were burning. He knocked on the door but let himself in, regardless.

[c3p-0h]

Daycare

Collab with @Phoenix

Haven was still bundled up in bed, surrounded by her Pokemon. Her eyes were puffy and a bit red, but the tear tracks had at least been wiped away. The tablet was propped up on the small table next to the bed, leaning against the lamp. An old Johto program played on it.

The show paused and the screen shifted, alerting her to a phone call. Her mother's face once again appeared. Blink's green vine entered Haven's vision, hitting the decline button. The screen shifted back to the television show, still paused. Blink hit the play button and retracted his vine.

Mrs. James had called Haven down for lunch not too long ago, her voice muffled from the door. Haven had remained silent. Guilt gnawed at her for it – the matronly woman had gone through the trouble of preparing lunch and it seemed a waste to not eat it – but Haven couldn't bring herself to get out of bed. Mrs. James had tried for a few more moments, but had eventually assumed Haven was asleep – though there was a note of worried doubt in her voice. Then she'd left to go back down the stairs.

A loud metallic whine cut through the thin walls of the Day-care. A click snapped soon after. Had the Rangers returned? Loud boot steps hit the wooden floor and came to a sudden stop. The low rumble of a voice passed through the building. Haven could feel more than she could understand. The papery tone of Mrs. James followed.

The boot steps began again. They seemed to grow louder. He was getting closer. What did he want?

Blink hit pause on the tablet again and tipped it so it was facedown on the table. Haven sank deeper under the covers and closed her eyes.

The footsteps stopped. Smack. It was like a single pebble was chucked at the center of the door. The distinct sound of a single knuckle meeting wood was the climax to the dread of having to deal with the Ranger. "Ms. Dao?" the familiar rumble rippled under the door.

How did he get my name?

"May I come in? I need to speak with you.”

One eye peeked open. It wasn't the Ranger. There was a gravelly warmth to his tone. Why was Forrest back?

She looked beside her, meeting Cloak's eyes. The Scrafty shrugged. She looked to Lace. The little Corsola was still buried in Forrest's blanket. Haven sighed, resignation seeping through her. She guessed she sort of owed the guy.

With sluggish movements, Haven pushed at the comforter and eased herself into a sitting position.

"Yeah, I'm decent," she called back. Actually, she probably looked like a mess. But… he'd seen her look worse. She ran a hand through her hair, fingers working through tangles that had already formed.

The doorknob turned slowly, suspicious that she was entirely decent and not trying to put herself together at the last moment. A chirp squeaked from the hinges as the door pushed into the room slowly.

Forrest stood there, no more dressed than when he left and with his forearm against the right side of the doorframe. His body was slouched over slightly as to fit his whole stature in the frame. His hair was unraveled from the braid he'd done earlier that morning. Now it was tight waves around his face and over his left shoulder. His eyes focused on the foot of the bed closest to the door and then slowly worked up to where Haven sat. He was still shirtless.

What does this dude have against shirts?

"You look better," he said, genuinely expressing relief for her current - though disheveled - appearance. But she was alive to be disheveled.

"I looked like the girl who gets axed in the first five minutes of a horror movie earlier, so that's not really saying much. But thanks."

The giant coughed a chuckle, ashamed that he found her amusing despite the accuracy - reality - of her recollection of her own appearance. He moved his hand to his mouth to stop the involuntary convulsions and then coughed what could have been some kind of apology. The corner of Haven's mouth quirked up the slightest bit and she was oddly proud at finally getting him to break his composure.

After another moment, he cleared his throat to continue. "I was directed by the Rangers to escort you to my home. The General can't expend any more Rangers to survey the Day-care and supervise an old woman and a spirited young lady," he explained, meaning a compliment. But his voice was flat, serious.

"I'm to watch over you until the situation has resolved itself. We don't know who exactly those men were that attacked you and we don't fully know their intentions for doing so. To put it bluntly, the Rangers think you a threat to Mrs. James' safety." He hoped she'd appreciate the honesty and believe him to be on her side.

Haven blinked at his monologue. Everything he said made perfect logical sense. She hated that. Protective custody was at the bottom of the list of things she wanted right now. She fell back into the bed with a muffled slump and pulled the comforter up so it covered her head.

"Can't you just take the egg and I'll go hide in a city or something?" she groaned beneath the fabric. Pushing the comforter back down so it was only covering up to her neck, she blinked at the ceiling. "I'm very good at not being caught, I promise."

Evading arrest had been one of the things she'd prided herself on in Goldenrod. Of course, she'd still been caught frequently… just less often than the number of times she'd done something illicit. Hoenn's former champion and part-time lumberjack didn't need to know that though – especially since he seemed to be on casual speaking terms with the Rangers.

He almost rolled his eyes, but thought again how valid her proposition was. But he then determined that course of action wouldn't have been any more secure. "They don't feel the egg is safest here," he misinterpreted. "And you're the last one who had possession, so the law states that it's your property and it must be properly traded to be surrendered. If you're willing to perform the proper procedures, we could remove it from your custody. However, we are unclear as to the intent of these men and whether or not harm is intended upon you."

He took his arm down from the side of the doorway and crossed his arms over his chest, puffing it out as if it would grant him more authority over her. His feet were spread wide, if only to keep his forehead from disappearing above the frame. However, this was a more relaxed position for him. His voice lowered and even softened some. His dull eyes were fuzzed with sympathy for the girl. He wanted to look strong, but was rather intimidating, instead. He wanted to look confident - balanced, steady - but also caring. He couldn't begin to imagine the kind of trauma she was suffering. So he attempted to make it as light as possible while keeping a sense of seriousness for the situation.

"I'm sure it'll be over soon. And you're not under house arrest, or anything. We can do whatever you came to Hoenn to do, even."

Yeah, I can do it with a huge, shirtless babysitter. Great. Haven sighed to herself and sat back up to look at him. Maybe he'll be good for business, she thought, defeated.

He was trying, though. Lacked tact, but that's not who he was. Straightforward and focused were good traits to have. It was becoming clear how he'd become the Champion of Hoenn a decade ago.

"So, come down to eat," he said, jabbing his chin toward her. He bellowed to force the awkward silence that filled the room. "I don't need you passing out before I get home," he said with another huff of a chuckle. His humor was simple, but there was some wit to it...some.

"Well when ya put it like that, charmer, how can I say no?" Her tone made it clear that there were many ways she could say no. But she sighed and pushed at the comforter nonetheless, running a hand through her hair again. Her Pokemon moved around her so she could get out of bed and soon enough she was standing again, stretching her arms up and listening to the light pops in her spine. She'd spent a decent chunk of time curled up in bed, and she was still recovering from almost dying. A few cracks here and there were the least of her worries. Dropping her arms, she looked at Forrest again.

"Lead the way, I guess, Mr. Champion."

"After you," he said and stepped out of the way of the door. He wanted to be behind her in case she collapsed, for whatever reason. He couldn't be too careful when he didn't know exactly what was going on. Hopefully Jeanne can look at her more closely.

The entire building was too small for him, it seemed. The ceilings almost touched his crown. He had to pivot sideways and duck to pass through doors. Even sitting at the table, his knees extended past halfway across the table. His torso hid the back of the chair.

"This is very delicious, Mrs. James. Thank you for feeding us," he said between fork-fulls and hand-fulls.

"Not as good as your wife, though?" she teased with a light giggle.

Forrest just flinched his face in a quick wink and smirk. Mrs. James blushed and waved a hand, appreciating the teasing back at her.

Someone's got a crush.

"I hope you don't mind going with me to my house. I know how overbearing the Rangers can be," he said, his attention toward the girl, now.

Haven glanced up at him, only for her eyes to turn back to her plate.

"You're not gonna carry me there, are you?" she finally asked, only half-joking.

"I mean..." he began with intent to actually carry her. However, the grin on his face alluded to his jest with her as he had with Mrs. James.

She pushed the mashed potatoes around her plate, forcing herself to take a bite every now and then.

Haven didn't want to go with him. She knew why it was the sensible thing to do. But she didn't want to feel protected or watched over, or reminded of what she'd been through and what the stakes were. Haven just wanted this entire thing to be over. It was bad enough she had the scars, the constant reminders etched into her body and memory. She chanced a look back up at him.

"Did you…" she trailed off, pressing her lips together as she thought of what she wanted to ask. "Do you know why it happened?"

Forrest seemed to have been taken aback by the directness she posed. He finished chewing so he could swallow and answer her properly, to match her seriousness.

"'They wanted the egg for their boss,' was all I was told. We believe them to be based in Rustboro, but there's no real proof yet." His tone was colder, now, clinical. "The men and their Pokemon are being taken to the Fairfax Hospital and then going into custody. We just don't know how big this thing could be."

"Awesome." It was not, in fact, awesome. "And you're sure they weren't just some jackasses trying to be new parents?" Haven knew she probably should've turned the flippancy levels down a few notches. And yet: "Maybe they were desperate for an omelet."

Forrest just eyed her, disappointed that she wanted - attempted - to rationalize the behavior of murderous men who ruined her body and her psyche. He didn't need to say "New parents don't try to kill people holding eggs. They don't steal them from Mrs. James..." His look of slight condescension was enough to portray the intent despite his mouth full of potatoes.

Haven glanced up to meet his eyes at his tone, an eyebrow raised. Apparently he'd taken her comments at face value. She looked back down to her food.

"Guess we just do things differently in Johto." The remedy to this situation was almost certainly not more sarcasm. But darn it, she was determined to give it a shot.

Despite herself, Haven was relieved that her attackers were still alive. The world was still scarier with them in it, but… somehow them dying would've made it worse.

"Why do you think they're from Rustboro?"

Forrest lifted the glass of water to his mouth to wash down the masticated food still lingering so he could respond more appropriately. "Medicham," he started and nodded his head toward the front of the house, suggestion she was out there now, "saw either the Hospital or Institute in one of the men's minds. Both looked, to me, like they were Fairfax, and both of those are in Rustboro."

His fork scooped at more potatoes and a piece of steak and threw it into his mouth. It was a small portion so he could still talk without being too disgusting. "But that's a loose assumption," he admitted.

"Maybe they're in Petalburg," she mumbled under her breath. But she'd already resigned herself. "So… what, do you think they're involved with Fairfax or something?"

"That's confidential," he said, ignoring the "Petalburg" accusation. But even he wasn't at liberty to discuss sensitive information. Regardless, that was something entirely unrelated to this situation. At least, he'd hoped it was unrelated.

Forrest scraped off the rest of his plate and finished his fourth glass of water like they were going to hike through Hoenn's Central Desert. But someone his size, of course, needed to consume more. He rose from his seat and knocked the edge of the table with his thigh due to lack of space. His hand rested on the table as if to will it still, and then started to collect the dishes from the table. "I'm going to help Mrs. James clean up here," he started and he put his plate into the sink.

"Oh, no, dear. You needn't do that."

"It's fine, Gram," he said with a smile and touched her forearm. She reached a hand to cup the man's chin and gave him a few pats in gratitude. "You go up and pack your things. We'll leave soon to get you settled in."

Instant rebellion rose up in Haven at this newest command, but she didn't have the energy to indulge it. She knew she was just being petulant.

But honestly, this "Let's order Haven around for her own good" thing was getting old, no matter how benign or reasonable the commands were. She was tired of being told what to do, like she couldn’t figure out how to take care of herself.

Forcing herself to be compliant, Haven took one last bite of food and pushed her chair away from the table to stand.

"Thanks," she murmured, handing her plate to Mrs. James. The old woman gave her a kind smile and waved her away. Haven knew the polite thing to do would be to offer help, but she didn’t have the energy to go through the motions when she was just going to get hushed and dismissed. So she skipped the pleasantries and just went straight to the conclusion: heading to her room to make sure she was packed for the trip.

Her Pokemon were still piled on her bed, watching the TV show on her tablet. Only her Weepinbell looked up when she opened her door.

”Time to pack,” she said, closing the door behind her. She’d only spent a grand total of maybe four hours in this room, but most of her belongings were laid out to dry from the night before. Mrs. James must’ve done it before the attack. Her thoughts raced as she moved around the room, haphazardly folding clothes and throwing them in her bag.

She was going to Petalburg. She was being taken to Petalburg. Apparently she didn’t have a choice. Like how she didn’t have a choice when she’d been carried to the Daycare, or when she’d been attacked, or when she’d been scarred and beaten and almost murdered.

Haven froze where she stood, squeezing her eyes shut. She hadn’t noticed when her heart started pounding against her ribcage. The shirt she’d been holding was now a wrinkled ball in her hands. She took in one slow, shaky breath. She let it out.

Haven was tired of not having a choice. She was tired of other people deciding things for her. She wasn’t helpless. And she wasn’t that punk kid who didn’t know how to stay out of trouble anymore.

She opened her eyes and turned to look at her team. They were all looking at her. She wasn’t the only one who hadn’t been given a choice lately. And they’d been hurt just as she had. With a sigh, Haven dropped the shirt to the ground and walked over to the bed.

"We have two choices," she said. "We go with Forrest to Petalburg and let him take care of us, or we take care of ourselves." She looked between her different Pokemon, gauging their reactions. "I know what I want… but I’m not the only one this affects." Haven kneeled down to be eye-to-eye with them. "I’m…" A hard lump started forming in her throat. "It’s possible… maybe even likely, that people are gonna come after us again. But… I don’t want to feel like this anymore. Like–"

She was cut off as her tablet started ringing again, her mother calling. Haven looked over at it. Once again her mother's face appeared on the screen.

She was probably sick with worry. But she’d worried before. And Haven had taken care of it. She’d done something about it. Because of her, her family wasn’t worried about making rent every month or having enough food, or picking water over electricity. Sure, Haven hadn’t done exactly what her mom had wanted. But Haven had still done something that mattered, she’d helped her family. She’d proven she was worth more than anyone had thought, that she was capable of more.

Sometimes she thought they were maybe even proud of her. Sometimes she was proud of herself.

Haven wouldn’t let two jackasses on a crime spree change that. She couldn’t let them take that from her.

Pressing her lips together, she pushed the decline button on her tablet and looked back to her team.

"We… we can do this. We can make it. We’ll look out for each other just like we have for years. But not unless we all agree to it." Cloak and Dagger glanced to each other, the Granbull nodding quickly. Her Scrafty hesitated a moment, looking Haven in the eye. Then he gave a short nod, too. Lace was already nodding, puffing herself up like that alone would scare off any pursuers. Haven finally let her eyes fall on Blink. The Weepinbell wasn’t looking at her. His eyes were angled down, unfocused.

Blink had always been the most cautious member of their little party – the meekest and most timid. As scarring as the night had been for Haven, she could only imagine how bad it must’ve been for her old partner. He’d always been the one to shy away from trouble that she seemed to jump head first into. Haven likely owed Blink her life – she’d have been in juvie or jail without him to pull her away from her more reckless decisions.

He finally refocused on her eyes. Then he nodded.

Haven let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. "Ok. Then we’re going." Haven pulled their pokeballs out of her pocket and recalled them all in a flash of light. In a few moments all of her belongings had been tossed in her bag. Her bedsheets were thrown back in a rough semblance of order, and Forrest’s blanket was folded on the edge of the bed.

All that was left was the egg. It sat on the corner of her bed, still and innocent. The damned thing was more trouble than it was worth. But Haven knew she couldn't just leave it here. Not after what it'd put Mrs. James through. It'd probably be safe with Forrest… but Haven thought of his family. She thought of Jerrek. She wasn't putting them at risk.

The same sense of obligation that had pushed her out to near-death last night thrummed through her once again. The egg was her responsibility. Her team had found it, she'd brought it to the Daycare, and now she was going to take care of it.

Haven picked it up and put it in her bag. It didn't quite fit, putting a bulge in the fabric and crushing her clothes. But it would have to do. Slipping on her shoes, Haven grabbed her tablet and opened the door.

She crept down the stairs, hyperaware of each creak and groan of the old wooden steps. Memories of sneaking out of her family's tiny apartment echoed through her mind. After an eternity of barely breathing, Haven finally made it to the bottom. Mrs. James' reedy voice chimed from the kitchen, followed by the low rumble of Forrest's laugh. Haven walked to the front door, as quickly as she dared, and grabbed the knob. She turned it and eased the door open.

And then she was out.

[LegionPothIX]

Slateport City

Beautifly is in the Eye of the Beholder

After leaving the Pokemon Fan's Slateport chapter house Sarah caught the tail end of a conversation, an argument really, that she heard many times on T.V. It was the age-old argument.

Among the group of youngsters, some older, and some younger than Sarah there was a light that attracted her attention well before the words they spoke told her what was going on. It was the light emitted by pokemon evolution. From the snippets of conversation she had heard it appeared that Olivia had enough to get the beautifly she desired. It had just fluttered up to its trainer as Sarah jogged over.

As the exuberant child bounded onto the scene her arrival did not go unnoticed by the other children or their pokemon. Her Pokemon Lens was secured to her belt, while the other children's pokemon gauntlets were either strapped to them, or tucked away somewhere safely. "Wow," Sarah said as she looked to the Beautifly that had just hovered up to her trainer.

"Quite," Olivia quipped back.

"So you're going to be a contestant, then?" Sarah asked as she caught her breath.

"Only the greatest beauty coordinator in the city. Maybe even the whole world!" Olivia said with a mark of smug determination as she reached out to her Beautifly.

"That's super neat!" Sarah said, gaining some ire from Ezmarelda before she continued. "I have one of those too," Sarah lied as she pulled her Premium Ball off of her belt, "Being the best... it's a lot of hard work." She looked thoughtfully at her ball as if she was realizing something too for the first time. "I don't know if we can do it." Sarah added while lecturing Olivia, who was largely unimpressed.

"It is." Olivia said with a hair flip, some people just aren't cut out for it." She added, "A lot goes into making a prize winning pokemon," she said as she started counting on her fingers, "First you need a good pokemon, like my beautifly." The complement made the beautifly smile, but then Olivia kept talking. "Obviously it'll need a specially formulated diet to shine up its dull coat." The beautifly's eyes drooped and it sagged a little in the air, but Olivia kept talking. "Of course then there's grooming, and accessories and don't even get me started on fashion advice."

"You're wrong." Sarah interrupted. She was quiet at first but then pointed her Premium Ball at Olivia. A universal symbol of intent. "First you need to know what your pokemon is capable of. Then you need the determination to accept that or change it."

"Don't be ridiculous," Olivia said, "I'm not going to battle you."

Sarah frowned but it was Ezmarelda who spoke up, "Are you afraid of a little competition, Olive?"

"That's not a very winning attitude, Olivia!" another girl called from the rear.

"Fine." Olivia said in a huff.

The other trainer directed her beautifly to the center of the ring of girls that had parted for Sarah to join. In response Sarah tapped the button on her ball which caused her ditto to spring forth. It's imposter ability activated immediately and it copied the opponent beautify.

Sarah pulled her Pokemon Lens of her belt as it read "Beauty Contestant Olivia would like to battle!" Though, this time Sarah was given the option to allow others in her Pokemon Fanclub network to spectate, and she checked the yes box, before hitting yes again on the do not ask again option.

Lens Report

Beautifly: Bug/Flying
Its colorfully patterned wings are its most prominent feature. Beautifly also has a long mouth like a coiled needle, which is very convenient for collecting its favorite food: the sweet pollen from flowers. This Pokémon rides the spring winds as it flits around gathering pollen. If you want to see this Pokémon, just leave a potted flower by an open window. Beautifly is sure to come looking for pollen. Despite its appearance, it has an aggressive nature. It attacks by jabbing with its long, thin mouth.

After listening to her Lens Report, Sarah tabbed over to the list of moves her Ditto acquired from the transformation, and the list was disparagingly short indeed. After that she was ready to battle. She called to her pokemon with the first move of the match: "Squishy, use harden!"

Olivia on the other-hand too a different approach, "Let's finish this quickly. Use tackle."

After bolstering it's defense the transformed ditto-beautifly also engaged in tackle use, and the two pokemon flopped about in the air for a few moments. Olivia's pokemon tried desperately to win her approval by making its attacks as artfully executed as it could manage, meanwhile Squishy's lax attitude, and defensive state encouraged it to pay the other pokemon little mind.

"You... You don't have any idea what you're doing, do you?" Sarah said to an increasingly flustered opponent.

"Shut up and fight!" Olivia shouted back before redirecting her focus to her pokemon, "You're making me look bad!"

"Tell you what," Sarah said as she offered a bit of free advice. "When your pokemon evolved it learned gust, but you didn't bother to check your Gauntlet. It's a lot stronger than tackle."

Olivia looked to her opponent and then back to her pokemon. "Is that true!?" The pokemon cocked its head as if it didn't understand the question, before Olivia decided just to test it. "Use gust!"

Sarah grinned as she commanded her ditto. "Me First."

The two beautiflies flapped their wings at each other, one slightly faster than the other, and a small air-front built up between them, and then exploded. Air rushed out of the circle of cheering kids as the beautifly crashed, and the Ditto transformed back. Sarah quickly scooped up the slimy pokemon with both arms—between which it was barely contained—while she kissed what should be its face. She then turned to Olivia whose harsh gaze shot daggers at her, before turning an oppressive disappointed stare to her unconscious pokemon. "Rule #1." Sarah said, allowing herself to gloat a bit, "Your opponent is not'cha friend."

"But how!?" Olivia asked more to herself than to her opponent. "They were the same."

"They're not the same." Sarah indignantly explained the one of the common misconceptions about dittos, "Squishy is a lot more durable than most bugs, even if he's a little slower." she squeezed her ditto with excitement and its eyes bulged a little like a beach-ball sized stress-ball. "I've also had him all my life, and we know each other very well." She shrugged, "You know nothing about your pokemon, or mine, and that's the point." the emphasized words were further accented with finger quotes.

"That was really mean," Ezmarelda said while coming to the defense of her (admittedly bad) friend. "That's going way too far."

Sarah hoisted her pokemon up to reposition it for comfort before looking back to, or more accurately, down on Ezmarelda. "Lots of people wanna to be the best," she said while returning her ditto to its ball so the lens could work its healing magic. "Not all of them gonna be nice."

[Kymera]

Slateport City

Music was the only good thing to come out of Johto.

There really wasn’t much about home Rai missed, but music was certainly one thing he often found himself wishing for. Not that synthesized junk that played everywhere, or those awful remixes of pokemon cries that assaulted him every time he opened the radio app in his Dex. No, he missed REAL music, the kind where lyrics weren’t some nonsencical sentence repeated ad nauseum and the instruments took some real talent to play. The kind that inspired a good mood even on the worst kind of days.

The Radio Tower in Johto was fond of that crap too, but there were a few holdouts in that monolithic place that clung to the ideology that the secret to good music lay in the past. Mary always had music playing in the kitchen on the tiny little radio, humming along and stooping over to pull Rai and Sam into an impromptu dance while the tunes carried on around them. It had taken months for Rai to scrape together the money to afford the upgrade for his Dex after the day that had taken them away. Months of sneaking around and changing the station on the ancient radio that played in the musty warehouse that became both prison and home. Surly, angry brutes screaming and starting fights over who had interrupted their constant stream of ear splitting noise in the moments they’d passed out from whatever vice they’d been indulging in that day.

It had been worth it in the end. Rai bought the best one he could, one he could pick up the Radio Tower’s stations, and even record some of his favorites to listen to later. The precious moments in time he was able to steal for himself, tweaking and fiddling with the stations to find just the right one and being rewarded with the sounds of singers who made music their passion streaming from the device in his hands? Those were the few bright spots in the days he wanted nothing more than to put behind him.

Rai sat perched on the back of a bench, working his lower lip between his teeth as he patiently searched each and every setting in the app for one that would reward him with the sounds he missed so much. The sun felt good on his back, and for all the aches and pains of the day before, Kye was happily splashing around in some of the more shallow puddles –being careful not to get his tail wet- and swatting at his watery reflection. Dicky might have given them a task, but the man hadn’t exactly given him any kind of a deadline. So he was determined to make the most out of the beautiful day ahead of them. That involved finding some decent music and giving his still sore muscles a chance to warm up in the sun.

The crowds were certainly bigger than the day befoe, with some clamoring back toward the marketplace and it’s brightly colored goods and banners. There was another large swath of people all gathered near the harbor, all standing and gawking at the Rangers in their impecably maintained uniforms, while an charismatic, confident voice welcomed the gleaming new ship in the harbor to the Rangers’ fleet. From his seat, even the throngs of people couldn’t quite hide the sleek vessel bobbing gently out in the water. The whole affair left a bitter taste in Rai’s mouth. Mary used to be the one speaking to the eager masses, singing the praises of the Rangers, welcoming new recruits to their ranks… It sounded wrong to listen to someone else do it.

Rai scowled when the only other sound he had to drown out her voice was static, and he was getting sick of looking at the formal attire every wet-nosed recruit and their partner had decked themselves out in. It was a flashy show of presence that ultimately didn’t mean a damn thing. They made people feel safe, all the while hiding how utterly inept the whole Ranger system was. Rai could almost pick out which ones would shit themselves if they found out there was a Pit fighting ring damn near under their feet. If they couldn’t even stay on top of something like that, all a new boat was good for was a lot of showy excitement and giving those starry-eyes recruits a few moments of feeling like some noble heroes instead of the useless rent-a-cops they really were.

“Kye, come on.” Rai said, spitting in the direction of all the pomp and circumstance, “The circus is giving me a headache…”

“Char char char.” Kye cooed back happily as the fire-type splashed back through the puddles, as Rai slid off the bench and onto his feet.

“You are the weirdest pokemon, you know that?” Rai shook his head with a grin down at his friend, “You hate the rain, but you’ll play in puddles.”

Kye only gave him a pleased look that clearly said “But I’m your pokemon. So there.”

“Yeah yeah…” Rai rolled his eyes, stretchung his arms to the sky to work the last kinks out of his shoulders. He hated to admit it, but he was grateful Dicky had helped patch him up. Not all the aches and pains were gone, but he just felt as if he’d had a vigrous workout, rather than beat half to hell and back. “It’ll be a long walk, but I think Route 110 is a straight shot from here to Mauville.”

Truthfully, he was hoping the trip would give him some time to figure out what exactly it was Dicky was wanting him to do. “Chase Mauville Island” wasn’t exactly the clearest set of directions he’d ever gotten, after all. It certainly didn’t seem like instructions exactly, and if they were, he had no idea how to “chase” an island. No, more than likely it was a person he needed to find, or he hoped so anyway. Either way, he wasn’t going to find an answer sticking around Slateport. A light tug at his pants dropped his gaze back down to Kye, as the pokemon lightly pawed at his waist, looking at him with expectant eyes.

“Oh, no. I’m still sore, and you’re getting too big!” Rai scolded the fire-type, though it didn’t phase Kye one bit. The pokemon gave a little hop and continued to try and climb his trainer, all the while chittering merrily to himself. It was hard to say no to that, especially because Kye was likely every bit as sore as Rai was. “Oh fine…” Rai sighed, bending down to heave his partner up onto his shoulders. “Make me do all the walking, I get it. Enjoy it while you can, cause when you evolve, you’re carrying me!”

“Char!”

“Don’t you burn my jacket again, you you get to walk!” Rai reminded Kye as he adjusted his hold on his pokemon before starting off.

People riding pokemon was a common enough sight, and even people with petite pokemon in bags or perched daintily on their shoulders wasn’t a strange sight at all. Giving a pokemon a piggy-back ride like a small child through the middle of a crowded city was something of a different story altogther. There were certainly a number of kids that squealed at the sight, and Kye was quick to chirrup back in response as they worked their way through Slateport. He was a little shocked to see just how big it was without the misty veil of rain that had hung over it when they had arrived the day before. Rai fell in with a steady stream of people, actually enjoying the moment to take in his surroundings for a change. Every now and again, Kye would eagerly drum his claws on Rai’s head and sqwak at some building or new pokemon eagerly. It was hard to picture the exciteable pokemon as the same one who’s had a woman’s neck between his jaws less than a day before, but there was a part of him that was glad for the nearly split personality Kye seemed to have. For all the hell they’d been through, Kye at least still knew how to enjoy life when it presented the opportunity.

The populace of the city seemed to share the sentiment, as it felt like every citizen from Slateport and the surrounding area had all turned out to enjoy the nice weather. The younger trainers seemed to be particularly invigorated by the sunny day. Pokemon battles were cropping up on every street corner it seemed, with several drawing small crowds to watch. The allure of pokemon battles was lost on Rai after spending so long in the Pits. The flashy displays of “skill” seemed tame compared to the fights he was used to witnessing. And it was all for fun. There were no stakes, save for some paltry exchange of money between trainers. No one was getting hurt, and at the end of it all, there were still smiles to go around.

Rai actually found himself joining in with a small band of people who stopped to watch two girls’ match, two beautifly flitting about one another in a dazzling show of color and attacks. It wasn’t difficult to pick out which of the two was more concerned with style than battling with any substance. It was almost funny to think about. Would he have been like those girls had life been any kinder? He certainly couldn’t see himself in any of those “Contests”, but just having pokemon battles for the fun of it? He hadn’t really socialized much with other trainers during his short stint as a legitimate trainer. He’d been far more interested in his own team. It was hard to remember what that was like; what life used to be like before it all came crashing down. Was it bad he just couldn’t piture what that would be like at all?

Rai let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding when the battle came to it’s logical conclusion and one of the fluttering pokemon reverted back into the pink amorphous blob of a ditto. It’s trainer scooped the formless pokemon up into her arms affectionately, and Rai felt the air around him suddenly become much too thin.

How many times had he watched Sam nuzzle Kye just like that? She should be out in the world like these girls; a trainer chasing after her dreams and enjoying every moment life had to offer. Would she have wanted to take part in contests? Or would she have had her sights set on the Elite Four, perhaps? Rai had to turn and walk with a bit more hustle in his step than he’d planned. That girl couldn’t have been much older than Sam was when she’d disapeared.

It didn’t matter. He’d made his choices. He was in Hoenn to bring an end to all those questions, and Dicky was going to help him do it, whether he knew it or not. Still, it took him at least a block before he managed to reign his thoughts back in and focus on the road ahead of them.

Rai pulled out his dex again, and tapped through the list of songs he’d managed to save to it’s internal memory. It wasn’t the same as getting a live station, but there was certainly enough music saved to pass the next few hours. Those girls all had some kind of bracer on them that looked like it served as a fairly useful trainer tool, and come to think of it, Karen had one on too. Though her’s had been modified so heavily Rai hadn’t realized what it’s original purpose was for. He’d have to look into getting one for himself if he was going to be in Hoenn for very long.

“Hey,” Rai poked Kye’s leg and held the device up to him, “You ride, you have to pick the music!”

“Char-Char!” Kye jabbed one claw at the screen, and Rai obligingly tapped and turned the volume up as high as it would go.

The upbeat keys of a piano riff sang out as they turned onto the entrance for Route 110 and left Slateport at their backs. He was nearly flat broke, off on some errand for a dangerous Pit Boss without a single solitary idea about what he was supposed to actually do, and at least two days from the closest thing he had to a clue about where he was supposed to be headed. It might have been enough to put him into a sour mood, had Kye not picked that moment to enthusiastically sing along despite being unable to carry the tune to save his life. It took Rai a good minute to stop laughing at his pokemon before he decided Kye certainly needed some accompanyment.

“Yoooou might have heard I run with a dangerous crowd. We ain’t too pretty, we ain’t too proud,” Rai joined in at the top of his lungs, ignoring every look they got from passerbys as his very pace changed to match the bouncing tempo of the song, “Awwww, but that never hurt no oooonnneee…. Darlin’ only the good die young!”

[Lerouge]

Mt. Pyre

The impressive visage of Mt. Pyre was reflected in the brown eyes of Ian, who stood transfixed by the power of the mountain’s presence. It felt as if the rocky peaks emitted an air that was rolling across the still sea and wrapping its tight grip around the throats of the visitors, daring any of them of speak. A cloud of uneasiness seemed to be surrounding the group pushing them into a tight huddle in the center of the pier, each seeking the security of their fellow traveler to battle the dark sorrow the cemetery emitted. As Ian scanned the crowd and noticed the endless sea of downturned eyes staring into a vision that was creating an individual battle fiercer than any Pokemon Battle Ian could ever imagine. A surge of uneasiness caused the breath in Ian’s choke to freeze and imagine the worst thought of losing the partner’s at his side. Goosebumps erupted across his skin, and the painful image of losing his own friends swam before his eyes and as if his Pokemon could sense his uneasiness and Jolteon and Kabutops pressed against their trainer. He could hear their thoughts in his own mind, reassuring that his decision to hunt such powerful Pokemon and put them all in risk was not simply his own. A surge of overwhelming love filled Ian with warmth and creating a barrier against the dim surroundings as his eyes sought his final partner.

“Gengar..?” Ian whispered in concern at the sight of his final Pokemon floating completely still above their heads with her bright red eyes focused on an unknown distraction across the water. The Pokemon’s giant grin remained, and Ian turned his gaze to try and catch the sight, but all he could see was the silent water and darkness. “What do you see?”

He turned his gaze toward the holowatch and took advantage of the updated information he had just received on the area. A glowing screen appeared before him forming a shape mimicking the mountain standing before Ian. The small version was much less impressive and with a swipe of his free hand was replaced with words scrolling up and vanishing like the credits of a movie film.

Mount Pyre
pahyuh r mount

Home to one of the largest Pokemon exclusive cemeteries known to be created and the Ghost-type Gym Leader of Hoenn: MacKenzie Guthermuth. Mt. Pyre has been considered a protected site by the Hoenn Rangers and any construction is completely forbidden in the surrounding areas. The land once shared with the Hoenn Safari Zone, but after a surge of outrage and protesting, the project was shut down and relocated. The grounds are currently considered a protected home for all Ghost-type Pokemon in the region and protected fiercely by the leader’s powerful Pokemon.

The final words vanished and with a beep the Holowatch’s screen turned black and fell back toward his waist and turned back toward Gengar with a gentle smile. “So that’s it? You can sense the Gym Leader’s Pokemon.” Ghost-type Pokemon are some of trickiest to raise and tend to be much less desired by trainers simply because of the idea that they are ghosts and spirits. Generally, ghost Pokemon tend to be divided into two groups, both promoting a negative light as either sources of fear or nuisances set on causing mischief. Ian had noticed similar issues raising Gastly and then Haunter where she was more focused on playing rather than training. Her power was so immensely different than the brute force and speed of Kabutops and Jolteon that she lacked an outlet for her to practice her abilities. Perhaps this was finally a chance for her to test her merit as a Ghost-type.

Gengar turned her head toward Ian, and the two held a gaze before the two smiled, they both knew what was going to happen, and it brought a sense of familiarity to the moment. She turned her back to the group and took off across the water leaving the group with a familiar face of annoyance and panic. Ian turned toward Kabutops, and the Pokemon walked over toward the pier and slid into the water and vanishing causing a ripple to break the still tranquility of the water.

"I guess it's just the two of us," Ian muttered toward Jolteon as the two turned their face toward the mountain to have the image changed with the distant appearance of the ferry breaking the scene. The ferry stood out like a drop of ink on a sheet of white, however, in this situation it seemed it was the paper that was black. The machine floating across the water with a fluidity mimicking a cartoon ghost, smooth and uninterrupted by any waves in the sea. A vessel of bright white leading heavy hearts seemed too cliche; however, it was merely a coincidence. The ferry arrived with a gentle bump against the dock began permitting the group entry to smiling faces by a crew that was both unwelcome and unreturned. Ian was among the last to enter and found people shuffling into their own respective corners and creating space from their fellow traveler as if the brightness of their new surroundings had freed them from their reverie from the docks.

"Welcome to the Pyre Docks Ferry." A booming voice rang out through unseen speakers as the ship had secured the final passengers and took off from the docks. "Please keep all limbs within the ferry while we remain in motion. For those passengers on the starboard bow remain cautious of your footing as the floor may be wet. Enjoy your trip and best of luck to any challengers of the Mt. Pyre Gym." A sparkle of static marked the end of the broadcast and silence fell as they picked up speed. Ian and Jolteon walked out of the entry lobby and found a door leading to the outside portion of the boat and made his way through to a wall of cold air slamming into him. A chill swept through his skin as they made their way out and watched as Mt. Pyre began to grow steadily larger. It seemed that the other passengers preferred the warmth and security of the indoor lobby as Ian was the only person outside and he made his way toward the very front railing and stared over the edge into the water.

Did Kabutops find Gengar?

Please don't let them be getting into trouble.

Ian sighed gently and stared at the horizon counting each moment that passed as he was trapped on this ferry. He could sense that Jolteon was equally as uneasy, this was not Unova and while the two had been sent off alone together many times this was a new land.

Jolteon leaped onto the railing and with expert balance slide it's head under Ian's neck affectionately rubbing against his trainer as Ian smiled.

"I know... they will be fine. I guess we should be worrying about the possibility of a gym battle, huh?" Ian asked his partner who stood up straight at the word battle and sent sparks erupting around the two. The Pokemon's immense control of it's electricity was amazing as the bolts surrounding the two but left Ian completely unharmed and roaring with laughter. "I'm excited too. Let's hope we can find some answers while we are here though." Jolteon nodded and turned it's gaze toward their destination, which was coming closer with each passing minute and had come to life with signs of activity.

Their destinated seemed less calm and instead felt more dangerous than it did from a distance. Each movement in the corner of your eye felt like your mind was slowly playing tricks on you, and the unwelcome question seemed to plague the mind "Ghost Pokemon or real spirit?" There was a distinct difference that Ian had remained quite wary, a habit left from his days as a young boy fearing the boogie man the nights he was stuck home alone. The irony that he was now an owner of a ghost-type Pokemon wasn't lost and was one of the reasons that drove Ian to pick such a unique typing. It is always better to remember your fears are never truly as scary in real life as they are in your mind. Ian's eyes scanned the shoreline as they arrived at the docks trying to notice any signs of Kabutops or Gengar nearby but was unsuccessful, wherever the two had gotten it was much deeper inside.

"Let's find them quick," Ian whispered toward Jolteon as the ferry nudged against the docks of their destination and halted to a stop. Jolteon leaped from the deck of the boat and landed neatly upon the pier and waited for Ian, who was waiting for his chance to disembark behind the cloud of visitors blocking the exit and attempting to avoid the cruel reality behind their visit. All Ian could do was remain respectful as his mind rushed trying to imagine the first place the last members of their team had gotten.

[Phoenix]

Pokemon Day-Care - Route 117

Heavy breaths. Apounding Heart. Panic and exhilaration. Fear and bravery. Defiance and independence. Pride and a sense of responsibility. Empathy is powerful and exhausting. Sometimes being a psychic medium was overwhelming. It was always a constant debate to allow herself to feel or to force objectivity. Having a powerful mind can make one's psyche fragile - delicate. Mastery could only come from reflection, meditation, and developing effective defense mechanisms. Few understood the struggle of Psychic-types. Spiritual awareness is the only path to growth and stability.
He only wants to help.
The voice filled her mind and blocked out all else. All the worry and guilt. It sounded soft but filled Haven's mind and her spirit. It was what a goddess would sound like if such things existed, if one believed. It was maternal and warm, like it'd been watching her her whole life. It wasn't judgemental or chastising. It was simply an explanation.
Accepting help when it is freely given is not a weakness. Weakness is not recognizing when you should accept it.
It seemed the voice was asking more than it was stating. "Can you truly protect yourself? The egg? Your Pokemon? Is there nothing for you to learn? Is there no way to grow from experiencing life with others?"
It was rhetorical. Something to think about before committing to a decision.
If you know you are strong enough, then continue on your path.
Haven's mind cooled. Her heart lightened. Her body loosened. She was finally relaxed. She could fall asleep at the foot of the door if she wasn't also invigorated by the cleansing. The soreness of her muscles washed away. They tingled. Her eyes were no longer heavy, her head no longer bogged by her own insecurities. If she wished to surrender herself and her party to rest, she could. If she needed to pursue independence, her body was ready. It felt like her bones were on fire, smoldering. It was up to her whether that fire would lull her or fuel her to journey onward.
They care about you. They want to make sure you're okay as you have made sure they are okay. They do not judge, they provide security - love. You have given them financial security. They wish to give you mental stability. Love goes both ways.
The voice wasn't talking about Forrest or Mrs. James. The voice merely suggested to speak with her mother. She didn't need to hide from them. She was already a region away. What could they do? What power or influence did they have over her now? What could she lose by confiding in those she cared for and who cared for her? The questions couldn't hinder Haven's now-cleared mind. Instead, they'd be answered without effort and in complete truth.
Speaking to them isn't what will still their worry. Knowing you are okay and safe and happy is what they want to do for you. If you aren't, they want to help in whatever ways they can, even if it's just listening.

Mauville City

The entirety of the city showed itself as a three-dimensional plasma cube suspended in the air. A corner glowed, creating a red cube in the light orange of the whole. This cube was actually made up of tiny and an uncountable number of red lines. Mr. Sturm's hand twitched in a way that enlarged the red cube and exposed those red lines.
His eyes darted, looking for something in the mess of a web. He walked around it, examining each connection and source, each bend and terminal. The slightest malfunction would have been rerouted, compensated by the fail-safes he'd designed. The fact that the entire block was out of power was suspicious. What the hell is going on?
Plusle hopped onto his shoulder and squeaked with a paw pointing to the base of the cube. There was a split in the diagram not there before. It was the pipe of the Major Conversion Chamber responsible for distributing power to the block. But how could that break cause a power outage?
"We're going to have to investigate," He told his party.
Another twitch of his hand vanished the blueprint. His other hand placed two fingers on his left earlobe and he spoke as if into a phone or gauntlet. "Sector Charlie-7-Foxtrot, Zone 0-November-67-Queen-1. MCC split. Evacuate and block all transportation in Quadrant 8."

Mt. Pyre

The slate slopes cascaded like a waterfall. The crests glowed softly in the haze surrounding the mountain. MacKenzie gazed longingly at the orbs of light. The Altar was but ruinous ruble for the past - centuries. The full, but cool, air seemed to preserve them as if time held no affect at Mt. Pyre. The blues and reds from the orbs filled each crack with blackness. The power of the orbs emitted swirled around each other.
MacKenzie's gray-green eyes looked clear in the refractions. His dusty orange hair now brown in the overcast sun. He wore a full suit, as if attending a funeral, that made his slim and long figure look sharp and intelligent.
His right arm extended out as if to grab something in the empty space. His fingers curled as if clutching one of the orbs before him. A purpled-black fog began to form in its center. It bulged and boiled for a moment extended in existence. A cyclone developed and fell to the brown-green grass of the ground. The blades weren't affected by the fog or the apparent force it possessed. It spilled over the grass but kept some kind of density unnatural to the physical realm.
"Sable-" The voice formed as the body formed. Red gems pierced as eyes out of the cloud that grew to MacKenzie's mid-thigh. The darkness fog began to still into stalagmites - spikes against the head and arms. It's almost-black body with bloodstone eyes. A large jet pierced its chest creating an illusion of some kind of black hole as its heart. Cloudy and chiseled jade stone littered the entire back of the Darkness Pokemon. Granite Cave helped adorn its body with the intent to intimidate.
Just as Sableye "materialized," a Gengar appeared above The Altar, hovering and looking down on them with the classic "Gengar Grin." Sableye chittered, the sound echoing abnormally around them lit it was reverberating against the air itself. MacKenzie closed his eyes, focusing his third eye for a greater perception of this challenger.
It wasn't unusual for Ghost-types to be attracted to his abilities as a medium and his powerful aura. Malevolent spirits were attracted for the goal of devouring, whereas most others just wished to be seen. He was known as the Spirit Rehabilitator, calming or simply grounding the more nasty spirits actually harming people and other Pokemon.
But this one - no, this one was different. Interested in socializing with others of its kind. Or was that a need to prove its superiority? And it was a party member of a trainer. But not in a Pokeball? Young man, canine, arthropod? Unova...
"Welcome," MacKenzie said, his arms out as if to embrace the challenger without a trainer. "I am MacKenzie Gutermuth, medium and Gym Leader. What is your request?"
His eyes, still closed, listening with his crown, his mind in the realm shared by his Pokemon.

Slateport City

The gaggle of girls dispersed in huffs and giggles and sighs. Comments were made by some spectators about the lack of coordination on the part of the coordinator. Other comments were made about the validity of the younger girl's assessment while she hugged her Ditto. but these spectators moved on to more impressive shows of talent and skill anywhere else in the city.
However, one spectator held more interest in the Ditto-girl than the others. She approached from behind with a Whismur hopping beside. "Hi," she said with a level of cheerfulness unexpected from most. "You seem to know quite a bit about Pokemon training."
It was largely a redundant observation but worked well enough as an introduction. "I'm Jenna," she said "and this is my Whismur," she added with a look down to the silent pink orb. "Have you studied at the Academy? I've never seen you before."
The girl, older than Sarah by a half-decade, combed her fingers through her straight brown hair and positioned it behind her ear as Sarah responded.
"Yeah, the Johnson Academy in Oldale. I'm heading back there for a special demonstration. If you're not doing anything else, you should come with me. You'll learn a lot."

[Kymera]

Mauville City

Rai wasn’t sure what he was expecting to see upon arriving to the outskirts of Mauville City. The irrational part of him was somewhat hoping for some massive sign in bight neon lights that would point the way to his objective so he could get this errand of Dicky’s done and over with. The less time he had to deal with the Pit Boss, the better, and the sooner he could be back on the trail of his own quarry.

Well, even if he had stumbled upon the sign he needed, the lights would have been just as dark as a good section of the city. The sun was still in the sky, but certainly wouldn’t be for much longer, and there were a number of people trying to start generators, or coaxing a wide array of electric types to give backup batteries enough of a charge to last through the night. To him, it seemed like a rather ramshackle setup, all thrown together at the last minute in order to cobble together some working power gird to make up for the obvious lack of a working one. Outages were common enough in the more rural areas of Johto, though it seemed odd for such a large city like this. Didn’t they have some better backup plan than the same, chugging generators back home? He thought Hoenn was supposed to be some hotbed for technological advancement.

Oh well. Not his problem. The Rangers would fumble around long enough to maintain some semblance of order until the power came back on. Besides, he wasn’t here to worry about their problems anyway. His stomach rumbled and growled at him, almost in tandem with Kye’s, reminding him that they’d had nothing to eat but a few berries the pidgeys hadn’t gotten to yet along the side of the route. The only problem was, Rai had enough loose change in his pockets for maybe a pack of gum. Hardly enough to get a meal for either of them. Rai frowned, looking down at his pokemon who was doing his damndest to not look every bit as hungry as Rai knew he had to be. Battles were always quick cash, but Rai didn’t have any to even stake on one. And begging was a quick way to get the attention of the Rangers. Street performers were one thing, but his experience had taught him that people preferred to think anyone desperate enough to ask for money didn’t deserve it in the first place.

It wasn’t until Rai spotted someone hauling out a sack of trash to a nearby disposal, grumbling all the while about the lack of power and spoiling food that the idea even hit him. The whole section of the city was without power. Surely there had to be a restaurant or two nearby forced to throw out food thanks to the outage? Not everyone had an electric type or a generator after all, right? Dumpster diving wasn’t exactly the most glamorous way to get a meal, but with no money and no other options, it was far better than going hungry. Besides, people threw out perfectly good stuff all the time, he reasoned as he turned down one darkened street, this couldn’t be any different.

It might have helped some if he’d known where he was, however. The first two blocks were nothing but little shops and boutiques, all with little handwritten signs in the windows politely asking for cash-only purchases or apologizing for being closed. Specialty pokeballs, contest items and outfits and a plethora of other shops Rai wouldn’t have set foot in even if he did have the money. Even so, more than once he did find himself standing in front of one of those plate glass windows wishing for the sleek new backpack proudly draped across a mannequin’s back, or for a pair of running shoes that didn’t have more holes than stitches. His mother would have been appalled to see the state of his clothes. Every hair on her head used to stand on end those days he came home covered in dirt and sand, screaming after him to get in the tub-

“Young man!”

Rai nearly jumped out of his skin and fell back through the window he’d been staring into, as he turned and came face to face with a stern-looking Ranger he’d utterly failed to notice. The Manectric at her side sat obediently at her heels, looking every bit as formal as his trainer, while Kye snorted a puff of smoke in irritation at the electric-type’s proximity.

“Behave.” Rai hissed quietly to his pokemon, giving Kye a light nudge.

“You are aware this sector of the city is without power, are you not?” The Ranger eyed Rai head to toe with a dubious look written all over her face.

“I actually just got into town a little while ago.” Rai admitted, trying to look as sheepish as he could, “A friend of mine told me there was a restaurant around here I needed to try while I was in town and I guess I just got turned around.” Well, it wasn’t entirely untrue. She seemed to buy it though, and her firm scowl lessened a bit, but didn’t vanish entirely.

“Most businesses are closing early due to the outage.” She said, “You may not have heard if you’re just getting in, the Rangers will be enforcing a curfew after dark. If you don’t have specific business in this part of the city, I’d highly suggest you keep moving on.”

“I understand.” Rai nodded, trying to keep his tone polite, “Sorry to have caused you any trouble, ma’am. I’ll find my way out of your hair right away.”

He expected her to dismiss him or direct him out of the area with a warning and move along, but her eyes stayed fixed on him for several long seconds, until Rai wanted to look anywhere but right at her. Her scowl became a confused frown, as her brows knit together for a moment as she continued to stare at him.

“You seem familiar, young man.” She finally said, making Rai’s empty stomach drop into his shoes, “That accent doesn’t sound like you’re from Hoenn. Do you have your trainer card with you?”

“Actually ma’am, I’m waiting for a new one.” Rai lied, his heart feeling like it was swelling to occupy the space left behind by his stomach. This Ranger wasn’t some fresh faced newbie, and he wasn’t about to run the risk this woman was well informed enough to keep track of the goings on of Rangers beyond her jurisdiction. He gestured over his shoulder at his ratty and torn backpack and a few semi visible bruises from the night before. “I was a bit careless last night and set up camp near a Deerling trail. Most of my gear is in pieces at the moment, so I came here to reregister. I just thought I’d kill some time while I waited.”

“Hm.” She folded her arms in front of her, scrutinizing him for a moment more, before she gestured out behind her, “The Bouffalant Buffet is down that way, and I think they’re the only ones still open. Just make sure you clear out before the curfew takes effect.”

“Right, thank you.” Rai nodded, heading in the direction she pointed doing everything he could to not take off at a dead run just in case she had any more questions. He expected her to follow him or to turn a corner and run into another Arceus-be-damned Ranger at any moment and have to start the whole heart-pounding process all over again.

He inwardly cursed at himself as he hurried along. This was the second time in two days. Why the hell would ANYONE in Hoenn have a solitary clue who he was?! The instant he had enough money, he was going to dye his hair or something, because at this rate, someone was bound to recognize him as more than a familiar face or name. Rai was so intent on putting more distance between him and the Ranger, he nearly missed the gaudy looking restaurant sign that should have been bright enough to light the entire street. Everything looked locked up and quiet, scuttling his hopes at maybe scavenging a bit to eat, when several muffled voices pulled his attention to a small door propped open just enough for him to peer down the access corridor.

Sure enough, two sour-faced workers were lobbing sack after sack out into a rolling bin waiting just outside the side door, to the point where the cart was nearly ready to overflow. Kye’s nose was twitching next to him, as his pokemon whined softly at being so very close to the best meal they had in days. Rai quietly eased the door open a little more, doing his best to stay on the other side of it where he wouldn’t be seen, but could still keep an eye on the two loading up everything to take to the disposal. It only took another minute before the two both turned back inside to fetch another load to pitch, when Rai rushed to the cart and split open one of the bags without hesitation. A slop of a half dozen different casseroles, simmered veggies and unidentifiable slop spilled out onto the floor at Rai’s feet. He grimaced at the mess but ripped into another bag to find several stacks of prepackaged meals and sandwiches that had sat for who knew how long before finding their way into the trash. Rai couldn’t care less though, and swung his bag off his shoulder and shoveled as many as he could into it, before darting back out the way he came, pulling Kye with him as he heard the alley behind him erupt with a colorful plethora of expletives he decided he’d need to have for later.

[c3p-0h]

Haven scrunched her eyebrows at the voice in her head, her steps faltering. The voice was new, but the presence – the warmth – was familiar. Foggy memories of comfort after lightning cracks of terror. As unnerved as Haven wanted to be by this alien voice, she instead found herself spurred onward. A new energy thrummed through her, easing over her aches and fears.

Haven would find solace and support in others – but only in those that she chose. Haven was tired of not having a choice. She could do this. Her team could do this.

A rumbling met her ears and she looked over her shoulder to see a dirty old truck lumbering along the route's dirt path. Behind it sat the quiet daycare, no sign that Forrest or Mrs. James had noticed her absence.

Haven stuck her thumb out. The truck slowed to a stop beside her, engine still growling, and Haven looked up to see a young bean pole of a boy, maybe her little sister's age.

"Mauville?" he asked, his voice startlingly deep.

"Not like this route leads anywhere else," she called back, forcing a light humor into her words. She walked around the front of the truck to reach the passenger's side and tugged at the heavy door handle. Hoisting herself up, Haven slid into the seat and pulled the door closed with a heavy thud. "Thanks."

"For a pretty girl? Not a problem." That managed to huff a genuine laugh out of her. He put the truck in gear and it was back to rolling along the route. Haven leaned back in her seat, letting out a heavy sigh. She didn't feel as drained anymore, but the Medicham's influence hadn't been enough to lift the new weight pressing down on her.

What the hell had she gotten herself into? How'd she gotten herself into it? She raised her left hand to run her fingers roughly through her hair.

She glanced over at the driver – to find him glancing back. Haven froze, her hand still tangled in her black hair. Her new scars were peaking past the sleeve on her jacket, up her wrist and the back of her hand. Her heart caught in her throat. Haven yanked her hand back into her lap, eyes glued back out of the window. Her other hand tugged the sleeve higher to cover the scars.

This was stupid. She was stupid. He'd been staring at her scars. So? Who cared? Haven cared, like the irrational idiot she was. And she was and idiot. And now she'd gotten into a car with a stranger when she'd been nearly killed less than 24 hours ago and apparently was involved in some criminal enterprise and –

"You… you were in Mauville yesterday right?" he asked, cutting through her frantic thoughts. Haven nearly jumped in her seat. "Yeah! You were that painter, right? The one near the jewelry place. I watched you a little bit before I had to drive back to Verdanturf. Man, you are… that was really something, y'know?"

Haven glanced back at the driver, who was now beaming at the memory as he looked out the windshield. Heat crept up her neck and Haven blinked at his words.

Idiot. He'd been looking at her face. Not her scars. And he was just some nice kid giving her a ride, not some gangbanger getting ready to jump her. She looked down at her hands in her lap.

"Uh… thanks. That's really nice of you to say."

The rest of the ride was spent with the boy – Thomas – chattering about art and Haven giving short responses while trying to not feel stupid or guilty or paranoid. She failed. But Thomas was a chipper distraction until they pulled into Mauville.

Haven opened her door and jumped down, relieved to be out of the truck. Thomas was nice enough, but it'd been starting to feel claustrophobic in the little cabin with all his words and all her emotions. Closing the door, Haven walked around the front of the truck again to where Thomas was, with one hand digging in her bag. Eventually her fingers found a small, rectangular piece of canvas, the plastic feel of dried acrylic paint coating one side. She pulled it out and held it out to Thomas.

It was a small abstract painting, mostly a mix of bright pinks and oranges and blues in messy brushstrokes, flowing like someone had poured a sunrise out of a jar. It was a more whimsical piece of Haven's, done when she'd been bored and hadn't felt like thinking of any concrete images. But she was fond of it.

"Thanks again for the ride."

"O-oh wow, thanks! Hey, it was no problem!" But he seemed delighted to take the painting, nonetheless. "You gonna set up shop again today?"

"Nah, today's not really a work day, y'know?" Haven didn't think she could stand being surrounded by people right now, all watching her. No, today wasn't a work day.

But that didn't mean it wasn't a paint day.

---

The sun was beginning to set, fiery light streaming between the buildings and casting long shadows. Haven shook the spray can in her hand, looking up at her work.

Almost finished.

She was in an empty section of city, set up in a narrow alley. There was some kind of power outage, which meant this section was closed off from the general population.

She'd never let something like that stop her before, though.

Haven was standing atop Dagger's shoulders, Blink's vines wrapped around her waist to make sure she didn't lose her balance. They'd done this trick hundreds of times though, whenever Haven needed to reach a higher part of a painting and didn't have anything to stand on. Cloak and Lace were on lookout duty as usual, making loud mischief whenever someone was in danger of finding Haven. She could hear the occasional shouts and bangs over the music streaming from her headphones whenever a ranger came nearby for a patrol.

She'd been painting this stretch of ugly wall nearly all day. As soon as she'd gotten into the city, she'd found her way to the closest art supply store (with a quick stop at the local drug store) for a few more paint cans, and then had gone hunting for a good enough spot.

Haven needed to paint. She needed somewhere to put all of this energy and emotion, some way to channel herself and lose her thoughts.

What she really needed right now though, was another color. Haven tapped the vines around her waist and jumped back, off of the Granbull's shoulders. Blink guided her down, softening her landing as Dagger rolled her shoulders and stretched her neck. Haven took another step back to evaluate her work.

It was nearly ten feet tall, and just as wide, a bright, messy splash of color in an otherwise drab corner of the city. An image of a bustling underwater reef could be found in the loose strokes, full and teeming with coral and water pokemon. There wasn't quite enough contrast, though. The reds needed to be brighter.

Haven walked over to where her bag lay on the floor, the egg propped up. She gave it a passing glance as she dug through her supplies for an orange can. Her left hand peeked out of her sleeve, exposing the beige medical tape she'd wrapped around her hand up to her elbow. She clenched her fist. There was tightness and a twinge of pain. Grimacing, she went back to digging in her bag.

Soon enough she found the orange she was looking for and stood up again.

There was a crash and angry voices. Haven jumped, dropping the can, her heart immediately in her throat. She squeezed her eyes shut and put a paint-stained hand over her mouth as shaky breaths escaped her.

It was just Cloak and Lace. No one coming to attack her. Probably. But that had been close. Way closer than they normally let it get. Haven forced her eyes open again and looked out at the mouth of the alley. She'd spent long enough working on this piece. It wasn't perfect, but they never were. This was as good a place to call it as any. Haven crouched down to stuff everything back in her bag and stood up again.

"Time's up. Let's go find the others and head out before we get caught." She pulled out their pokeballs and recalled them, slipping them in the front pocket of her jacket.

Whatever peace she'd found painting was all but gone now, adrenalin starting to pump through her body. This was irrational, she told herself. It was just another day of being a delinquent – the kind of excitement she used to love. She goes and does something she probably shouldn't, almost gets caught, and gets an energy burst. Same thing she'd been doing for a decade.

Except this time that wasn't excitement flowing through her. It was fear.

Gritting her teeth, Haven made her way to the edge of the alley, ducking behind the corner. She just needed to get her two little trouble makers and dash. If she got caught she could pretend she was lost. Haven darted to another alley, eyes darting around looking for her pokemon. She nearly made it to the end of that one, too, when a familiar chirp caught her attention behind her. Haven spun on her heel to see her two Pokemon standing at the opposite end of the alley. She opened her mouth as they started trotting over to her –

When something slammed into her back, pain blooming at the center of her scar. A scream caught in her throat.

White fear struck and Haven spun, a desperate fist shooting out at this new attacker.

[Kymera]

Mauville City

A colab with @c3p-0h

Fan-tucking-fastic. For a day that had started off on such a positive note, it was really starting to take a turn for the worst. As if digging through the trash for a meal wasn't bad enough, detting caught doing it was magnitudes worse. Rai wasn't entirely sure if the same Ranger who'd stopped him earliler was the one now on his tail, screaming for him to stop at the absolute top of their lungs, but he wasn't terribly keen on stopping to find out. A night in a jail cell was only marginally more comfortable than spending the night out under the stars somewhere, but magnitudes more inconvenient when it came to finishing up his business in the city itself.

The Rangers really must not have been expecting a whole lot of trouble, Rai decided ducking into another alley to try and lose the lone lawman on his trail. Had he been back home? The Goldenrod branch would have been swarming like someone kicked a Durant nest. Not to mention they would have been infinitely better trained. Rai could hear the footsteps begining to falter behind him, and the yelling was quickly becoming increasingly breathless. Pathetic really. How did these people not have every gang, crook, and thief in a thousand miles all flocking to bleed this whole region dry? He had to mentally scold himself to stop complaining about being able to outrun the Ranger. It might have been on its way out to the trash, but that didn't mean what he was doing wasn't still technically stealing.

Rai picked up the pace a little more, glancing down for a moment just to make sure that Kye was still running alongside him, as they twisted through every possible turn the city would allow. He didn't hear the sounds of the Ranger still following him, but he wasn't looking to take the chance thet there weren't going to be more of them lurking around the next corner. They might be better off heading back down Route 110 for the night and finding a place to camp rather than deal with the city's nightlife, even if it did mean a longer walk before they could enjoy their pilfered dinner.

Rai was still weighing options when Kye squawked in warning about a half second before he realized there was another body standing in the alley. He tried to twist out of the way to sidestep the unexpected obstacle, but still managed to plow straight into the unfortunate soul. He tried to put on the breaks to keep his momentum from carring both of them face first into the wall or straight into the pavement. The result was an awkward kind of dance that had Rai and his impromptu partner twisted around one another until he managed to come to a stop still upright and on both feet, which he considered quite the victory in itself. He could practically feel the waves of shock rolling off of the petite girl he'd inadvertantly knocked into and opened his mouth to apologize, when her fist quite literally beat him to the punch.

His awkward position, and the unexpected force packed behind the swing had him off his feet before he had time to realize what had just happened. Rai tasted copper almost instantly as his lip split back open, and his hand flew up to cup his face, while his rear hit the ground. Height was no longer a factor, as he found himself looking up at his scrappy road block dazedly trying to assess whether or not she'd managed to break his nose at the same time.

"What the fuck?! It was just a damn accident" He swore, even with his words muffled from his attemtps to stem the bleeding. His lip and nose throbbed in time with his heartbeat, which was already thumping along after his little jog from the authorities and certainly wasn't helping matters. He glared at the girl he'd run headlong into, fully intending to rip into her for putting the proverbial cherry onto the top of his night, until he realized she looked like a cornered Deerling rather than the Geodude that he assumed had just decked him. Her hands were clasped over her mouth as she stared down at him with wide, startled eyes. Whatever tirade he wanted to let loose on her for hitting him died entirely on the end of his tongue as his initial anger melted into concern.

"Hey. Are you ok?"

Haven felt a surge of emotions rise up as soon as she realized the situation – the residual fear, the relief that she'd been wrong, the mortification that she'd been wrong, the guilt at punching an unsuspecting stranger, the bizarre swell of pride that she'd been able to floor the guy – and found herself frozen at his words. At his voice. The familiar timbre of home was the last thing she'd expected. She opened her mouth and lowered her hands a bit to offer excuses or apologies but what came out instead was –

"Y'know this part of the city is off limits, right?" Not the most ridiculous thing she could've said. But it was up there. The light smatter of hurried footfalls behind her made her look down to see Cloak skid to a stop beside her, glancing quickly between Haven and the stranger. He was carrying Lace in his arms, who in turn was glaring her darndest at this would-be assailant. Haven dropped a hand to brush against them, letting them know she was alright. With her other hand, she stretched out to the stranger, an apologetic offering.

"I'm fine – I'm not the one bleeding on the pavement." She was the one with the residual quiver in her voice, though.

"Yeah and whose fault is that?" Rai huffed, trying to hide his bruised pride that this girl a stiff breeze could have taken for a ride had managed to deck him hard enough to land him on his ass. He wasn't above admitting it was impressive though. She could throw one hell of a punch, but it wasn't going to stop him from chastizing her for it. "The Rangers deputize you or something? 'Cause you aren't exactly supposed to be here either."

Haven raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, I'm the official City Hooligan Puncher. Consider this a warning."

The waver in her voice seemed to dry up entirely, as Rai returned the unamused look, though his eyebrow twitched at hearing the tilt in her voice that closely mirrored his own. Kye loped up alongside him, looking his trainer over, chattering away the same way a mother would scold her child as if Rai had been the one doing the hitting himself. It felt like every pair of eyes in the alley were fixed on him for one reason or another. The glares the girl's pokemon were giving him were certainly less than welcoming, especially since he'd already managed to scare their trainer. When Kye wasn't rambling on in a way Rai was sure was the fire-type's way of scolding him, he was chirping and carrying on at his speed bump's pokemon. The glare Kye turned on him clearly demanded that Rai apologize sooner rather than later for the sudden intrusion.

"Just who's side are you on, you traitor?!" Rai balked as he gestured to his bloodied nose, "She hit me! She should be the one apologizing!" Haven dropped her offered hand to her side. Let him get his own ass up, then. She slipped both hands into her front pocket, fingers fiddling with the four pokeballs there. The steady drum of her heart in her ears still pounded away as she tried to slow her breathing, her fried nerves, as she glanced back down at her loyal pokemon. She was so done with the past 24 hours.

"Char." Kye growled at him firmly, headbutting him as if that were the end of the matter.

Rai opened his mouth to argue further with his pokemon, until he realized why Kye was being so insistant. He'd been entirely focused on the ache in his face to notice the way she shifted uneasily from foot to foot, as if she'd rather be anywhere but here. Compared to the usual company he kept, this girl lacked the kind of confidence that was almost endemic in his world. It wasn't entirely absent – her dry humor and apparent lack of remorse were plenty of evidence to that. Rather it was overshadowed by something else. She wasn't just small physically, but she almost shrank further behind the protective guard of her pokemon. Just the way she seemed to hold herself was like she might break at any moment. And with adrenaline from the situation wearing off quickly, Rai could see how she just looked...tired? Situation aside, she hadn't exactly denied that she wasn't supposed to be roaming the alleyways either, which begged the question of what she was even doing there in the first place?

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of more voices, echoing off the walls a bit closer than his comfort zone allowed for. Kye was already barking something at the girl's pokemon, uging them to get moving. Rai surged up to his feet, ignoring the sudden head rush, and cast a hurried glance behind him in time to see the glow of flashlights growing quickly against the brick and mortar of the ajoining street.

"Hit me again and you can deal with the Teddiursa Scouts alone," Rai warned his newest companion, before he caught hold of her left wrist and pulled her after him as he pelted back down the alley. Immediately pain started shooting from his grip, tight as it was around her freshly healed arm.

Why the hell were people always pushing and pulling her around?

Jets of pain arced down her arm, from her wrist to her elbow, trailing up towards her shoulder. Her mouth parted in a silent, strangled gasp but all she could do was try to run after the stranger, lest he yank on her arm more and cause more pain. She squeezed her eyes shut as she heard Cloak's light footsteps tapping after them, and the Rangers' somewhere behind them. Haven grit her teeth against the pain as they ran down one alley, and then another trying to lose their tail. Finally, as they turned a third corner, Haven dug her heels into the ground, wincing at the pain of her arm being yanked harder.

"Stop stop stop stop stop!" she said in a rush of air. Haven wrenched her arm from his grip, almost slamming it into her chest as she huddled over it. She hissed in a breath as she straightened and held her arm in front of her. It still ached, but it helped to not have someone – a surprisingly strong someone – grabbing and pulling on it anymore. She was panting. Her eyes burned with building, unshed tears. Haven turned her hand in front of her. Her fingers were shaking. She curled them into a fist and relaxed them several times, each time bringing a sting through her veins. She tried to hide her pain behind the unimpressed look she shot Rai. He came skidding to a halt, annoyance chisled into every line on his face at coming to such an abrupt stop again. Who did that? Surely she'd heard the Rangers? So why the hell had she-

Her Scrafty was hovering over her, sharp eyes intent on the stranger that had apparently hurt her, while Lace gave a series of distressed little chirps as she inspected Haven's hand. Rai had managed to miss the bandages before, but he certainly saw them now, as she kept her arm cradled against her chest with her pokemon orbiting her anxiously. Whatever had torn up her arm hadn't given her an easy time of it, for damn sure, but she was doing her best to hide the discomfort it had to be causing her.

"I'm fine." Her shaking breath seemed to contradict that. Cloak let his eyes leave Rai for a moment to huff at her, before he was back to watching Rai. "It's fine." No response. Haven rolled her eyes. Forcing herself to straighten up, she reached back into her pocket with her uninjured hand and held brought out two pokeballs. Her left arm was still cradled close to her chest. A flash of light appeared as her Corsola was recalled at the same time her Granbull was released. Cloak relaxed a bit at seeing his partner in crime, while Dagger's eyes darted around, taking in the scene. When both of them were looking at her, Haven nudged her chin towards the mouth of the alley. The lights and footsteps were growing nearer.

"Make some noise. Meet by the ice cream shop later?" The two pokemon looked at each other. Sly smiles curled their mouths. Then they both took off, Cloak darting straight out of the alley, and Dagger turning right as soon as she could. A crash followed. Several crashes. The rangers shouted and hurried to chase down the sounds, moving right past Haven and Rai's hiding spot. Rai found himself grinning a little. Clever. It was a trick he and Kye were well used to pulling, but he hadn't expected her to be quite that sneaky. Something tugged at the corner of his brain, screaming at him that she seemed oddly familiar somehow. More than the way she slanted her words the same way he did. He wondered what on Earth she'd managed to get herself into if she was sporting some extensive bandage work and adept enough to avoid the Rangers.

The corner of Haven's mouth quirked up. Glancing up at Rai, she reached into her back pocket to pull out her phone. She clicked the button and looked down at the too-bright screen, squinting. Maybe it was his familiar accent, maybe it was that he reminded her so much of the other ne'er-do-wells back home, maybe it was just that Haven had had a goddamn shitty day and she was tired, but she could feel herself slipping into her old, bratty ways like she slipped on an old jacket. The edges that she thought had been smoothed by years of travel perhaps hadn't lost their sharpness after all.

"Oh wow, look at that," she said, holding her phone out so he could see the screen, the time clear across the front, "amatuer hour's over." Haven slipped her phone back into her pants pocket and brushed past him to continue walking down the alley.

And like that, any moment of comraderie Rai had felt was gone. Her flippant, condescending tone rubbed him entirely the wrong way and he bristled angrilly as she brushed past him with as much care as the trash at their feet. He growled deep in his throat after her and thought about giving her that piece of his mind after all. It was only the looming fact that he didn't trust her pokemon to do as thorough a job as his own to draw off their pursuers that stopped him, and he settled for jamming both hands into his pockets. Her problems were her own. He didn't want to get involved, and she certainly didn't seem to want him to anyway.

"Right. The main event's going to be so much more fun to watch when you deck a Ranger for minding their own business. I look forward to reading the arrest record." Rai snorted in amusement. Unfortunately, he found himself having to shuffle along behind her since the way they'd come meant running right back into the Rangers. Not to mention, he had no clue where exactly he was thanks to the twists of the alleys. He thought about just waiting until she was gone to find his way out, but with the night pressing in closer in the powerless sector, it was more important to get back to the main roads.

Logic didn't make it feel any less like he was being led along on a leash as he plodded along behind her, scowling at the back of her head with a headache starting to creep up on him. His lip still hurt like hell, even if the bleeding had stopped. He reached back into his pack for the small bottle he kept at arms'a reach at all times and popped it open to shake a few small white pills into his hand and swallowed them dry. They wouldn't quite take the ache away entirely, but they were good for dulling the pain for a while at least. He frowned at how light the bottle felt, moorsely realizing he'd need to get more sometime soon. Rai started to put the bottle back, when he glanced back up at Haven in front of him. The pained look on her face from earlier as she'd nursed her arm was hard to banish from his thoughts, no matter how irritating she was.

"Y'know," Haven said in a dry voice as she walked, looking up at the shop signs, "despite my intimidating physique, well-defined muscles, and killer right hook, the last fight didn't go too well for me, so I think that's more of a last resort." It felt… odd to talk about her (attack? assault? would-be murder?) experience so casually, like she was outside her body, watching someone else. There was another shout, further behind them this time.

"Oy. Pint Size." Rai called out after her before lobbing the bottle in her direction, "Catch. That arm looks like it hurts." Haven spun just in time to give a little yelp and fumble to catch the bottle in her hands. She turned it to look at the label. Some kind of painkiller. Haven looked up at him and opened her mouth to make a crack about how her arm hadn't hurt as much before he'd started dragging her around, but instead what came out was:

"Thanks." She undid the cap, shook a pill out, and tossed it back after closing it again. Popping the pill in her mouth, she finally gave him a good look.

It was obvious from his accent he was from Johto. He was maybe around her age, and from the look of him, Haven guessed those painkillers were close friends of his. Even without the bloody face, he looked a little roughed up. There was a sort of harshness and control in the way he carried himself that made Haven wary, even without the near-death experience. He reminded her of the rougher edges of Goldenrod that Haven had usually avoided, unless she'd felt particularly daring. Heck, he even kind of looked like some of the guys she'd seen there.

This stranger seemed dangerous… but not feral. Not like the men from last night.

Lightning flashed along the razor edge of blades, white teeth cutting a gleeful sickle of white in the darkness, pain, blood, pain pain pain–

"Sorry about your lip," she finally said, looking away. "Shitty day. Kinda jumpy." Haven looked down at her feet for a moment. Then she turned again to continue down the street, looking for landmarks to lead her out of the blacked-out section of the city. "Haven, by the way," she said over her shoulder with forced lightness. "Deputy Teddiursa Scout."

"Hooligan Puncher, Deputy Teddiursa Scout..." Rai muttered with his voice deadpan, ticking off her self-appointed titles on his fingers, "Is there anything you can't do?"

"Make my momma proud."

He crammed the pill bottle back into his pack, his brow knitted together in thought. Haven. The name struck a chord. He'd definitely heard the name before, and it had been more than once. Couldn't have been one of his old gang. She wasn't the type and there was no way he would have forgotten someone like that. He hadn't stuck around in one place long after leaving Johto, so there weren't may people he had vivid menories of while he traveled. So where the hell did he know her from? He could almost swear he would remember if he could see it drawn out in front of him-

"Wait a sec... Haven? Haven, responsible for that massive mural behind the old Goldenrod gym, Haven?" It was a shock to the system as the memory clicked fully into place. It wasn't like she had a terribly common name, and she certainly spoke with the tilt of a Johto native. Haven spun to look at him with surprised eyes. That was unexpected "You are from Johto, yeah? Your accent? I used to live in Goldenrod myself. I think I remember some of your work! You used to do street paintings!" One of her eyebrows raised as a small, almost shy smile found its way to her lips.

"Yeah, I did."

It was strange. Rai didn't reminisce much, but how often did he stumble across someone from his part of the world while traveling a thousand miles from home? He felt a little bit like a fanboy tailing behind her like he was, but there wasn't much he could do about that. His previous irritation with the whole situation they were in alost melted away, as he jogged to catch up some without getting quite as intimate as his previous encounter. When he reached her, Haven turned again to walk alongside him, looking up at him as he chattered.

"What the hell brought you all the way out to Hoenn? Last I remember, you always had a decent crowd watching you paint." Rai shook his head, still trying to make sense of his strange luck, "Name's Rai, and my buddy here is Kye. And I am sorry I plowed into you like I did. Had just a few other things on my mind than watching where I was going."

Haven gave a little laugh. Rai and Kye? Seriously? Though, she supposed she wasn't really in any position to judge. She'd named two of her pokemon Cloak and Dagger.

"Hey, no worries. The sound you made when you hit the floor was apology enough." There was a teasing playfulness to her voice that softened any bite her words might've had. "I dipped out of Goldenrod six years ago. Wandered around Johto for a bit, then Kanto. Now I'm wandering around Hoenn. Still painting. Most of the time I don't give the Rangers anything to worry about, but," she glanced meaningfully around the deserted streets, the sounds of Cloak and Dagger's mischief echoing further and further away. She shrugged. "Old habits." Rai peaked a single eyebrow looking down at her with a face that clearly said he didn't believe she was avoiding trouble quite as much as she claimed.Haven pressed her lips together as her eyes searched his face. The way she scrutinized him made him suddenly uneasy.

"I remember you," she finally said. The bottom fell out of Rai's stomach as the color in his face followed suit. "You used to hang around the old refinery." With the other gang members. Criminals that anyone sensible tried to steer clear of. As a child Haven had never been described as sensible… but even she'd known what was out of her league. "You got tall." It was an open secret that they'd had some kind of organized fighting ring, on top of whatever else they did. Haven remembered the wild, angry look Rai'd had, like he'd been desperate for an excuse to end someone. A white, hungry smile flashed in her mind again. She clenched her left hand against the pain. Her pulse quickened.

How in the hell did Haven keep on finding members of organized crime? This was, what, the third one in twenty hours?

Arceus, he really should have just let her go on about her business, instead of tailing after her like a lost lillipup. He kept his gaze fixed straight ahead of him, worried that if he looked back at her or met her eyes, she'd remember any more than she already had.

"So, why'd you leave?" Haven was suddenly desperate for Cloak and Dagger again. Why the shit had she sent them away? She looked up at the dead streetlamps. "Get tired of the city lights?" Her breathing was starting to get shallower as she fought to control it.

Well, I beat someone to death who was directly involved with my mother's murder and sister's subsequent kidnapping, burned down the refinery, I've got a bounty out on my head by people you wouldn't want to share a zip code with, and I'm here to probably do a lot of the same motions. Yeah. That didn't make him sound like a world-class psycho in the least, did it? Rai tried swallowing the knot formed when his heart jumped up into his throat, but it was stubbornly refusing to move so he could either breathe or speak properly. No, he just needed to calm down. She'd been away from home for six years, right? If she was asking, then she hadn't heard or at least didn't think he'd been quite that involved. She'd helped draw the Rangers off instead of bringing them down on their heads like any sane person would if they knew the things he'd done. So he was just going to hope she'd been too busy to keep up with the news and hope for the best.

"Needed a change of pace, I guess." Rai lied, doing his best to keep the sudden uncertainty out of his voice and his face passive, "Had to cut the whole traveling thing short when I was younger, so it seemed like as good a time as any to get out into the world again." Haven couldn't seem to hear him over the pounding in her ears.

It wasn't all a lie, but that didn't make the words any less bitter on his tongue. The newfound company was suddenly stifling. He needed to go before things got any messier than they already were. Bad enough Dicky had his number, but he didn't need the entire region to know he was here either, or this was all going to be for nothing. Screw it. If he ran into the Rangers again, so be it. He needed to bail.

"Look, sorry again for running into you like that. If you get to feeling like you need to go to the doctor or something, let me know and I'll pay for it." How, he had no idea, but he felt like he at least needed to offer, "But I really ought to head out, before it gets too late- hey. Hey, are you ok?"

Now that was a stupid question. She'd stopped walking, every muscle tense. Haven looked like she didn't even remember how to stay standing on her own two feet. Her chest was fluttering like a flock of pidgeys had decided to roost in her lungs, and power outage or not, the glow from Kye's tail was enough to illuminate the thin shine her skin had taken on when he hadn't been looking. She looked like she was going to pass out but her body hadn't quite caught up to the rest of her yet.

"Haven? Hey, Haven. Look at me." Rai tried stepping in front of her, instinct telling him to grab her before she fell over, but he worried that would just make things worse. "Haven, come on. You need to take a breath, or sit down, or something?" He had to bend over to get to her eye level, but he could have been standing on his head for all the good it did him. He might as well have been two streets over from the way Haven looked straight through him.

"Kye! Go get her pokemon!" Rai snapped. He didn't like sending away their only light source, but if she did this often maybe her pokemon would know how to help snap her out of it? Kye didn't hesitate and rushed down the alley and zipped out of sight entirely in a matter of seconds. Rai hoped they weren't too far away, because he was woefully ill-equipped to deal with this sort of thing.

The sharp crack of his voice slammed into her and Haven gasped. It was like her consciousness finally came crashing back into her body and suddenly she was a ball of energy and frantic activity. She brought her hands up and shoved at Rai, wild eyes and wicked smile transposed on his face. The force of it sent her stumbling backwards too, until her back collided with the alley wall and a pained sound escaped her, hissed through clenched teeth. She felt phantom blood, sticky against her dry back, flow from the Scyther's cuts as venom burned her arm like fire.

Tears stung at her eyes as she squeezed them shut. She sank to the ground, her head curled down so her dark hair fell in front of her face. Her left arm was held tight against her chest, her other hand gripping it too tightly with claw-like fingers. Panic curled around her, freezing her in place, filling her throat as she struggled to breathe. Rai was only marginally relieved that Haven had finally found her way a little closer to the ground, but the way she curled in on herself as if she could hide from the world made him ache with helplessness. She wasn't just scared, she was distraught. Just the way she moved made him wonder what in the hell kind of "shitty day" she'd had to suddenly break down like this.

Rai dropped down to his knees with her, trying to do his absolute damndest to be as non-threatening as possible. It worked for wild pokemon, and right now she very much put him in the mind of one that had been beaten and cornered with nowhere to run. Except the passive approach wasn't working. She didn't seem to see or hear him at all in whatever world she'd suddenly built around herself. He had no clue where Kye was or how long it would be until he got back with the other pokemon, and Haven was somehow managing to choke on the very air around her. Rai steeled himself, knowing full well he was probably going to regret all of this in just a moment, but she had to breathe and he had to make sure she didn't suddenly bolt either.

He took advantage of her absence from the waking world and planted himself right in front of her, and braced both hands firmly on her shoulders. There was a sharp flinch at the contact. He could feel every muscle twisted into hard knots that refused to relax, as she sat hunched in a tiny ball.

"Haven." His voice gentled some, as Rai pushed his own panic at the situation down where he could deal with it later. "Breathe. You're ok. Nothing's going to hurt you. I'm not going to hurt you. But you have to take a breath for me right now, ok?"

"The fuck do you think I'm trying to do?" came her weak, strangled voice from behind her hair. Her breathing didn't ease. The panic didn't grow any less solid. "Get off me." The command was fragile, but it held any force Haven had left. She opened her eyes to blackness before squeezing them shut again, shrinking back even more, if that was possible. Frustration mixed with her fear. She hated this – she didn't want this.

The echoes of a thunderclap crashed in her mind and Haven shot a fist out to slam against the wall beside her.

"Son of a bitch," she muttered, her words thick. She brought that hand to tangle in her hairline as her other one clasped tight over her mouth. Her chest was painfully tight, like there wasn't enough room for her pounding heart.

Arceus above, Rai was out of his depth with this. It was all in a day’s work to reduce the person opposite to a crumpled, sniveling mess for him, but this just felt wrong. She wasn’t some punk in the pits looking for a fight. Hell, she didn’t even look like she had a mean bone in her body. Sharp tongue in her head, maybe, but no one ended up with enough bandages to supply a hospital unless they’d been on the receiving end of a beating instead of giving one…

Oh.

Dumbass. He should have seen it sooner.

“This is all you’ve got?” Rai snarled at her, “You want me to get off, then make me.”

Coddling her wasn’t going to help. If she’d been hurt, then promising her that she was going to be just fine or some other useless bullshit would be nothing but empty lies. It happened once, it could happen again. She’d have to be the one to reconcile that and figure out how to deal with it. And he’d never been one to hand out a crutch.

“How can you call yourself a trainer? How can you have so many that look up to you for love and protection and still manage to fall apart like this?” She’d already snapped at him once, so if all he needed to do was prod her a little bit further, then he was sure he could figure out what buttons to press. “Is that how you made it through your ‘shitty day’? Curled up into a ball and just waited for it to pass, or did you fucking fight back?”

Something clicked inside Haven. She froze and looked up, her dark eyes focusing on Rai from behind her hair. They were bloodstained – but clear.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" came an uneven whisper. She held up her left arm, showing him the bandages that were beginning to loosen. "I got these because I fought back." Her voice was soft, but with a new harshness to it. "Because a couple of thugs," she shoved hard against Rai's shoulders, "wanted something and I decided I couldn't let them have it." She grew louder, anger staining her voice as frustrated tears streamed down her cheeks. "But I'm not some pit fighter, ok? I almost died – my team almost died! I was bleeding out in the rain and mud over some stupid egg, so don't tell me I didn't fight!" She'd grown to a full on shout.

Then the energy she'd built up seemed to leave her. Her shoulders slumped and she leaned back, her head resting against the wall. Her breath was coming out in heavy, even pants.

"I fought and a I lost." She brought the heels of her palms up to press into her wet eyes. "Now I'm crying about it in a fucking alley." Haven brought her hands down to swipe futilly at the stains on her cheeks. They were filled with fresh tears soon after. She sniffed and looked to the side, her eyebrows bunched together.

Rai retreated to the other side of the alley and found a seat for himself against the far wall. He wasn't quite as worried now that she remembered how to yell at him. It was better than her choking on air at any rate. This whole episode suddenly made a lot more sense now. Why her pokemon were so protective of her; why she'd been so jumpy and tense. It was the same reaction any sane person would have after living through something like that.

It bothered him that someone had attacked her over an egg though. What the hell was so special about a mere egg that was worth killing a trainer and her team over? Eggs were unpredictable. Someone might know what kind of pokemon was inside, but its nature, its potential? They were all wild cards. Most just waited until the pokemon hatched to take it, just to make sure it would even be worth the time and effort. He wondered if Dicky knew what this whole mess was about. The man seemed connected enough. Maybe he'd at least heard rumors?

"Oh, what the hell do I care? This isn't my problem. If she doesn't know how to take care of her own damn self by this point, it's not my fault. I've got my own things to take care of." Rai scolded himself as he calmly watched Haven try and fail to collect herself. He hadn't wanted to just let her pass out alone in the middle of some dark alleyway, but her burdens were her own.

"No. You didn't." Her eyes darted to him. He really needed to just keep his mouth shut. Why the hell was that so hard for him to do? "This isn't what 'losing' looks like."

The thin smile on Rai's face was bitter and humorless, but he couldn't chase it away.

"You got hurt. Your pokemon got hurt. Yeah, I get it. It sucked." Rai said very matter-of-factly, "Welcome to reality. It'll do that to you. But as much as all that shit hurt? You're still the one who came out on top, the way I see it."

Rai pointed at the bag near her feet. He could see even in the failing light the way it swelled with the egg that had to be inside. "They tried to take it, but did they? Looks to me like you're the one still holding the egg. They almost took out your team, but they all looked strong and healthy again to me. They almost killed you, but you still managed to nearly break my damn nose." Haven let out a short huff of air, darting her eyes away again, her hands balling into fists where they were crossed over her knees.

Rai could hear something coming down the alleys now. Pokemon. He hoped it was Kye with the others Haven had sent away. He slowly got up to his feet, not wanting to be caught sitting down just in case her pokemon suddenly decided he'd been the one responcible for their trainer's state. Kye had likely explained what was happening, but there wasn't any need to take the chance.

"I've seen people 'win' who've lost limbs. I've seen them sacrifice their pokemon. Their friends. Their reputation. Hell, even their lives. So you know what? Cry about it. Be angry, sad, scared or whatever, but at least recognize that you're still alive to be able to." Rai scowled at her, hearing whatever was coming drawing closer, "But you'd better damn well remember you're here because you did fight back. And if you can put up a fight with fucking death staring you down, then you sure as hell can when it's nothing but the demons you can pull out of your own head."

Haven was still for a long moment as the echoes of their pokemon drew closer. She kinda hated him for how much sense he made. That was the only emotion or thought she was willing to recognize at the moment – the rest of her was a jumbled, frazzled, tired mess. Without looking at him, she forced herself to stand up, running a hand roughly through her hair.

"Thanks for the pep talk, coach," she muttered, her words rough and drained, but controlled. "I'll stop feeling sorry for myself tomorrow." She bent down with a wince as the scar on her back pulled, and grabbed her bagstrap to sling it over her shoulder. She finally looked at Rai again. "For the record, winning feels like shit." But she was alive to feel it. She grabbed the end of her now loose bandage and started the process of tightening and securing it again.

Cloak, Dagger, and Kye came racing around the corner then. Her pokemon sprinted to her as soon as they saw her, filled with frantic energy. They had to skid to a stop on either side of her, Cloak looking her up and down as Dagger's eyes darted around the scene.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Haven said, like she was waving away an overprotective parent. "Stubbed my toe. Hurt like a bitch." They both stopped to give her a flat look. Haven returned it. "You wanna give me a checkup in a dark alleyway, or you wanna wait until we find somewhere to sleep? You know Blink'll mope if you two nanny without him." The two pokemon looked to each other and both huffed a concession. Haven rolled her eyes. But she didn't ccomplain when they didn't move away from her.

She glanced back up at Rai after a moment and let out a quiet word.

"Thanks." She wasn't exactly sure what for. But she knew she owed him in some way. For his patience with her, or for his lack of it. Maybe just for being there. She swiped at her cheeks again. "Sorry."

"I'm sure you would have done the same." Rai shrugged, adjusting his pack with a wry grin, "Probably not for me....but for someone."

He looked up toward the sky, frowning with how late it had gotten. At least the Rangers had all seemed to have run off or lost interest. He wasn't quite sure how he might have explained being alone in an alley with a frantically sobbing young woman at night. Small favors. Of course now it meant he and Kye were probably just going to leave one alley to find another to spend the night in, rather than finding somewhere out on one of the routes.

He glanced down the alleyway and almost wanted to start laughing when he noticed that the streetlights were on only a few yards away. In all the craziness, he'd never even realized they'd been so close to the functional part of the city. It did make him feel a little better though; she looked beat and Rai really didn't want her to know his accomodations for the night were likely going to be no better than where they were standing. Splitting here, where there would be more people in case she relapsed or something felt better than just leaving her and her pokemon alone in the dark.

"You ought to go rest up." Rai suggested, cocking his head in the direction of the city lights, "S'been one hell of a day for you. Kye and I should be moving along ourselves anyway." Haven looked to where he'd indicated, and was surprised to see the city's lights. He meant to leave it at that and just walk away. How the day had gotten so crazy was beyond him, but it just felt wrong to walk away without saying anything more. He had so many other things to be doing, but..

Surely it would take him a few days?

"Dunno how much longer you plan on staying in Mauville..." He finally managed to squeeze out, "But just 'cause you aren't a pit fighter, doesn't mean you couldn't learn a thing or two from one. Could teach you a bit of self defense. Might help put your mind at ease some. But that's up to you."

Haven's eyes snapped back to Rai, surprised. Then she raised an eyebrow as a bemused smile curled the edge of her lips. "You sure you got anything to teach me, glass jaw?" There was at last some lightness in her tired voice. She glanced down. "But yeah, that... that doesn't sound like a bad idea if I see you around. Thanks."

As if he didn't have enough on his plate. Kye was eyeing him mischeviously, and it was hard not to give him a hard nudge with his foot to get him to knock it off. He was just trying to earn a little bit of good karma while he was in town. Wouldn't hurt anything to help someone else out while he figured out what the hell he was supposed to be doing. He turned out of the alley and out onto the main street at last, and gave Haven a small wave before continuing along on his own way with a still smirking Kye in tow. "Catch ya' later, Pint Size!"

Haven raised her hand a bit at Rai's retreating back. Well that had been... not completely shitty. Not nearly as shitty as last night, at least. Haven watched as he turned a corner, his Charmeleon in tow, her eyebrows scrunched together in thought. Then she gave a heavy sigh, looked down at her pokemon, and said, "Come on. Let's go get some ice cream." She goddamn needed some. And then sleep.