eulogy to a set of cut brakes - zltry - Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (2024)

Chapter Text

> Passwords activated:
:: eevee
:: easyhms
:: stablweather
:: antidote

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Station master here.
We’ve got your boarding passes.

Another one for Reborn City, huh?
They sure have been pushing that new league.

Let’s see… this one, right?
Certainly looks like it.

And what was your name again?
Got it.

Then, just to be sure, for gender I should put…
Right.

One sec. I’ll handle the rest of this.

ALL ABOARD TO REBORN CITY!

Name: Specter | Gender: N/A
Trn: 8R750 | Seat 5D
ARR: Grandview Station
Adult: ONE | Type SGI

Just between you, me, and the old battered fence post,
I hear Reborn City’s kind of a dump.

Why anyone would wanna go there is beyond me.
And yet, buncha’ you ambitious Trainer-type folk have been headin’ out in droves.

But off you go now.
Train’s leavin’ any minute.

Would you like to view the controls of the game?
Yes
> No

▬▬, ▬▬ ▬ ▬ ▬▬! ▬▬ ▬ ▬▬▬▬.

All right, hello there! Your turn now, sorry for the wait. My name’s Ame. I’m the manager of the Reborn League. You were also looking to sign up for it, right? ▬ ▬ ▬▬! We’re finally just getting things off the ground again.

▬▬, after the incident a few years ago, the whole region was almost completely abandoned… even by the Pokemon. ▬▬, but! Don’t let that worry you! ▬ ▬ ▬▬ ▬▬▬ ▬▬ our Gym Leaders are like nothing you’ve ever seen before, and ▬▬ ▬!
▬ ▬▬ ▬ ▬ ▬▬ ▬▬▬ introduce myself early ▬▬ ▬ a head start ▬▬▬▬ ▬▬.

Could I see your boarding ticket, please?

▬▬. ▬ ▬ ▬ ▬▬. We’re almost to Grandview Station, so after we disembark, just follow me to the Grand Hall. ▬▬, I’ll give you a ▬ ▬▬ to really kick off your ▬▬ in Reborn. ▬▬▬ ▬▬?

Then if you’ll—Um.

Something’s not right… shouldn’t we be decelerating already?
Oh no—

The world is black. The world is white.
And then the world is an explosion of gray: the train explodes. The station is dead on impact, as are many of the passengers. One would think an explosion would have color, but there’s more shrapnel than fire. The city shakes with the force of the crash.

There are few survivors—or maybe there is only one, but the narrative needs a driving force. As it stands, only two of the passengers were of importance. The others are footnotes. Whether they survive or not is irrelevant.

The beginning is skipped, because it is a spoiler. You will get to know why later. Or maybe you won’t, not from here, but you could if you would like to. For now the world stutters back into motion as debris settles on the ground.

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There’s only a few moments of awareness between the train’s explosion and meeting the ground. Maybe they’re lucky for that, because if they were looking directly at the explosion at the time of its occurrence, they likely would have had a few more problems than they did already.

Collision is unforgiving. Fortunately, Specter manages to hit the pavement at an angle putting most of the damage on their side instead of their head or spine. Unfortunately, the ground scrapes their knees and sends them toppling, and they wake up with a bruised temple, leaning up against the pier.

A choking breath escapes them before anything else. The pollution is the first thing that registers, sidelining the pain that accompanies the hoarse, rasping coughs that rip out of their throat. Every breath comes with the smell of smoke, oil and burning metal. There’s fire. There’s fire.

The second thing that they notice is the noise. Rubble crumbles and shifts loudly, there’s metal creaking in their ear, the crackling of flame is unmistakable. There’s no screaming. The noise of crumbling infrastructure is mostly drowning out faint human cries and speech, but there’s no screaming. Just muted pain. How long had they been out? Surely only a couple of minutes. Like wild pokemon, the growl; huff; hiss of broken buildings and wounds festers.

As far as injuries go, they’re… fine. No broken bones, no gouges. They’re surprisingly unharmed.

Mostly unharmed. Another coughing fit comes over them when they shove their arm underneath them, a small amount of spit coming out tinted red from their sore throat. Their side is one big bruise, but mercy of mercies, at least they’ve not broken anything. Luckier still that they weren’t armed when they hit the ground, and they avoided landing in any fire. …What had happened?

They were on a train. To—to the Reborn region, to participate in the newly-rehauled league, that was what the trainmaster had said. Reborn was a solitary region wracked by both its uniquely powerful pokemon and its unsettling amount of natural and unnatural disasters, of which it had publicly announced to have gotten a handle on just months ago. Usually barred off from any visitors, travelers or incoming citizens, the League had finally opened itself up just a month ago to any trainers willing and able to take on its unusually expansive gym challenge.

They had caught the last outgoing train to Reborn just that morning, 8R750. They were set to arrive in the Peridot Ward by the end of the day: the most hospitable ward, by comparison with the others, which were either too expensive or too criminal to land in… not that Peridot claimed to be better by too much of a stretch.

And then they had arrived, and the train had blown up.

There’s a lot of people. Three police and six paramedics, but so many more injured. It looked to be that the only people up and breathing were the people who weren’t on the train, those who were just caught in the blast.

Shards of metal and glass shift and crunch under them when they manage to sit up. The lack of pliable ground shoves several jagged edges up against their shirt, but none of them pierce. They’ve just fished a rather intact bit of steel from their clothes when a boot obscures their vision.

“Thank goodness you’re okay!”
Arceus.

The clumsy relief that suffuses them has to be cut off quickly because the woman—Amethyst, the name takes a second to settle correctly in their brain—reaches out a hand to them.
They struggle to take it, tugging on her a little harder than they mean to, but she doesn’t seem to notice. She pulls him up without mentioning it. She’s pale.

Her outline, stark against the rubble despite their blurry vision, feels odd. She’s young, very young for a league manager, with clean white hair and an unremarkable if classy outfit. It’s easy to clock her as a fairy user just by the aura that she exudes. But beyond that, her image against this backdrop seems almost wrong. Her presence registered to them as something that was just not quite right, something instinctually dissonant.

She’s breathless when she speaks, and her hand lingers on their shoulder. “I didn’t think I’d gotten to you in time,” is what she says, a pokeball clutched in a deathgrip at her hand. It looks to be still humming with energy, likely holding a pokemon that was just newly returned. …So that was why they survived?

They felt a faint stirring of gratitude, but also mostly just faint. Their skin is uncomfortably charged where they had touched her bare wrist to stand, and they instinctively shrug her hand off of their shoulder, unease prickling in their stomach. “You saved me?”

“…Yes. At least,” hesitance. “I think so.”

“You think so?”

Considering she just half-saved them from dying in a train crash, they can assume she’s at least somewhat safe to be around, but her presence puts them off kilter. The hesitance in her voice is worse. They rub the collar of their coat in their palm to chase away the feeling of touching her, momentarily forgetting about the large piece of metal still in their hand.

Their gaze flicks down. It’s the Reborn crest, scratched but still scrutable. They shove it in their pocket.

“Thank you,” said a bit late.

Amethyst has already turned away. “It’s no problem.” They can only see her back as she stares out over the train station, but she’s hugging her arms to herself. “That train exploded right as we pulled into the station.” And muttering more to herself than to them. “I’m… I’m just glad we got out of there, but…”

Without meaning to, their gaze follows hers. They fill in for her without having to see it, but they see it. “The others.”

It’s not pretty. Obviously it isn’t, but it’s…
There’s a certain limit to the types of things that you can describe in words. Intellectually, you would know a train crash would result in deaths and carnage and destruction. In reality, it doesn’t prepare you for the actual image.

How do you explain this?
To say only the facts: this was purposeful and targeted. At the very least there was a bomb on the train. At most there were several, and likely some in the station as well. This type of thing didn’t happen by accident.
To say anything else: it smelled, looked, sounded and felt like death.

What they can see of the inside of the train looks red, not that there’s much of the train to see in the first place. The carpeting wasn’t that dark before, they’re sure. There are bodies laid out this way and that, and the police that are extracting people from the ruined train cars are clearly overworked, understaffed, and retrieving more corpses than live people.

Amethyst lets out a shaky breath.

It’s like she’s speaking in lowercase. “why did this have to happen? who would even—,” trails off. No end to that sentence.

There’s a single pokeball on their waist. For a moment, they’d almost forgotten its presence, but now it finds its way to their hand, held in a grip not unlike Amethyst’s. Despite themself, they shift a bit closer. “Who?”

No answer.

Is she in shock?

She’s pale, paler than she should be. She doesn’t seem to be having problems with her breath, but she’s muttering a mile a minute, staring with wide eyes at the wreckage. She stands stock still, like an image frozen in time. If she unsettled them when they’d just stood up, seeing her like this is almost as bad.

Am I in shock?
…No. No, they’re not, at least they don’t think so. Maybe just non-medical shock.

“And just after we’d managed to get the train lines in working order…” Another breath. She turns, collects herself. She doesn’t quite look like a league manager, but the composure is befitting. Her pallor is still ghostly. “Well, there’s no use thinking about that now.”

“Amethyst—,”
“—AMETHYST!”

A short green and yellow woman comes barreling up.

Maybe it’s just the fact that they’re not alone in the wreckage anymore, but the tension feels a little less all-consuming. Though by the looks of it, it might just be the girl, because several of those who seem to recognize her seem to relax. Amethyst smiles despite her obvious disconcertion, even if it’s more of a grimace.

“Julia,” she greets, pointedly giving them the new girl’s name. Really, Specter feels like more of an observer than someone who was actively standing right next to these people.

And Julia immediately begins yelling.

“Hey, hey, hey!!” Several people seem almost mollified by her loudness. The people beyond saving are beyond saving, but her presence is clearly a help rather than a hamper. “I thought I’d find you here!”

She bounds forward into their personal space so swiftly that they jump and nearly fall off the pier, barely avoiding being smacked in the face by her bright green hair. “And who’s this?!”

“Me,” they reply on instinct. Ah, sh*t. Wrong thing to say. “S-Specter. New trainer.” New? Not really. Still, it feels like enough to say when given maybe a second of prompting. They don't provide a last name, because they don’t know hers either.

It’s like being attacked by a megawatt light bulb. She almost reaches out for them, redirecting at the last moment to fling her arms out instead. “And you’re one of the ones challenging the reborn league, huh? I’m Julia!” Obviously. “The electric leader, just here in this ward!”

Amethyst gently intercedes for him, taking Julia’s shoulder in a hand and tugging her back.

“Julia, what are you doing here.”

“Whaaat? I didn’t do anything!” She shifts her weight from foot to foot. There’s a minute edge to her expression, slight worry that quickly gives way to that odd excitement, half real and half theatrical. “I was at the gyms and suddenly something went BOOM! So I came running and saw you here!”

Flourish, point. “And I found part of your trainer project, yeah, so it all worked out in the end!” Just a bit more collected, “See~med to me like an amateur job, sooo…”

Is it? Half the train station is gone. It seems like only a handful of people on the vehicle itself are alive now, maybe enough to be countable on two hands and that was all. The other half seems operable enough to be in working condition, sure, but… It’s definitely not salvageable. There’s maybe four water types on scene, and the fire, while not spreading, shows no sign of stopping.

Their gaze flicks back up to meet purple-indigo irises. “Specter, you asked who might’ve caused this?” The league manager’s shoes shift through the filthy layer of rainwater, oil and blood on the pavement. “Team Meteor,” is what they get after a moment of waiting, both to them and to Julia.

“The motive isn’t clear, but the work itself… well, for all the crime there may be, there’s not a lot of other suspects with enough manpower.”

“But the structure—,” “It’s still standing though?!”
Specter clicks their tongue with enough force that Julia quiets, making a sheepish face.

Steadying themself, they palm the bit of metal in their pocket, almost cutting themself on it. “Yeah, what she said. If they wanted it gone, they could have done it.” That much is obvious. The amount of people and pokemon on-site is pitiful. So what’s left?”

There’s a deep, heartfelt sigh. And… yeah. They get it. They feel bone-deep exhausted enough to almost merit getting right back on the blown up train and shipping themself back to the region they’d only just vacated. They’re not even sure how they’re still standing upright.

“I’m not sure, but we’ll have the perimeter locked down. Specter, with me.” She beckons them forward after taking a few steps away from the wreckage. “We’ll have this all taken care of while you get registered at the Grand Hall.”

By the look on her face, it’s less to get them registered and more to get her into the Grand Hall.

“Uughhh, and you’re sticking me here? Fine~.” The smaller woman sets her hands on her hips, looking for all the world the picture of a contrite little sister. “I’ll set everything up. Hey, you!” God, what now? “You’ll be challenging the Reborn League, right?! You better come see me after all this! We’ll have a Kanto-Style two on two!”

The agreement leaves them before they think better of it. Julia gives them a victorious expression like she knows exactly what she just did and darts away with the speed of a rocket.

[ TRACK: Reborn: Pokemon Center //:
Pokemon Reborn OST || GlitchxCity ]

The air doesn’t change much on the short walk to the Grand Hall. There’s still smoke, and it dogs every step the both of them take. Looking over the pier isn’t any help either, because if they thought the desert was bad, the water is worse. It’s gray, almost and just barely not green, and they swear there are water pools in the Tourmaline that are clearer.

Specter is short, really short, so they have to occasionally step a little faster to catch up to Amethyst’s easy six foot stride. The natural swiftness they carry isn’t as set in as her memorized paths. And their side hurts. All in all, it’s incredibly but believably inconsiderate.

“There are two more trainers slated to have some registration done today,” Amethyst is telling them. “We can get you sorted out while Julia locks down the Obsidia Ward. By now the police will have already been set out, so you won’t need to worry about a thing.”

Usually in big, crowded cities like this there’d be a large amount of pokemon, or at least some roaming the streets. Here, it almost seems like they’ve all disappeared. There’s pidove scattered across a handful of roofs, and they think they’ve seen a few rattata, but beyond that there’s nothing. No patrat or yungoos or any other type of birdmon, not even the evolved forms of pidove. There’s nothing.

Amethyst calls them and they realize they’ve fallen behind a few paces. They hurry up the stairs to the hall to see her.

The grand hall itself is… almost breathtaking. Not even just by comparison to the rest of the city, which is dilapidated and run down. The structure could easily pass as an actual main region league hall set on Victory Road.

It’s a giant, slightly-too-tall-to-be-dome-shaped building divided into eighths, each diagonal sector corresponding to the Reborn emblem’s color with the other sectors being gray. In the midpoint of the roof there’s a pokeball shaped indent. It’s a massive, towering building with looming doors capped by that same league symbol. (It’s just about the only thing they’ve seen so far that’s somewhat maintained.)

Blue, red,
green, purple.

Despite the opulence, there’s no pidove resting on this specific building at all, which is just as uncomfortable. They slip between the closing doors behind Amethyst.

The air inside is cool. It’s much more hospitable than the outside, and it’s surprisingly full for how empty of people the walk had been. There’s more people and trainers here than they’d seen outside in the street, or in the wreckage site.

It also feels strangely… what’s the word? They feel like they’ve been filled up with energy and newly emptied out. Whatever it is, it’s making them antsy. Just as newly unsettled, they shift their weight even as they walk.

A couple of shady characters are clustered at the door, but besides that and the fact that there’s no pokemon even inside, it’s a fairly normal center. The people look more down on their luck than usual, but that’s not saying a lot, for lower-level trainer types that aren’t directly sponsored.

There’s another trainer at the desk, standing around almost listlessly until Amethyst’s voice catches her ears. The trainer turns around and Amethyst just as promptly introduces them both.

“Here. This is the other trainer I told you about: Apophyll apprentice Victoria. Since you were both being registered around the same time, I arranged for you to show up on the same day. Not that it went well…”

She makes some sort of dismissive gesture, waving off whatever Victoria was about to say to her, speaking quickly to the girl. “I’ll just submit this report to the police and then we’ll be able to get your starter sorted out.”

Wasn’t this moving too fast? They knew themself well enough to be able to professionally ignore their own fatigue, but… their side still stings, and the discarded reborn emblem sits heavy in their pocket. Maybe Amethyst was just savvy enough with these types of situations to know that their exhaustion would keep them from running off or questioning her.

Right, Victoria. Well, apprentice she certainly was, because she’s built as solidly as a brick house. Despite that she has a sweet face and round eyes, framed by straight black hair that she’s half pulled into a spiky, semi-circle tail. It seems like she’s someone of importance as well, because she wears a coat that’s an odd mix of traditional and modern Johtonian style, embossed with yin and yang tied around her waist. A gym leader trainee, maybe? Definitely fighting type oriented.

Uncertainly, she nods and then turns to them. “I’m Victoria. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she says with a faint smile despite the concerned furrow in her brow. “Is everything okay? I heard there was an explosion at the station…”

Her stare only lingers on their face for a second. When she averts her eyes, it’s subtle and inconspicuous. They’re actually pretty impressed with her composure, or at least her ability to stay firmly in her lane. Even Amethyst had paused on them for a moment too long.

To be fair, Julia hadn’t, but Specter had only known her for three minutes and they were immediately convinced Julia was not normal.

Still, despite their exhaustion and her admittedly appreciated sensitivity, their own line of sight flickers back toward the entrance. “Amethyst said she’s dealing with it. No suspect yet.” Is it too late to leave? Obviously no one’s done anything overtly wrong yet, and the girl is exhibiting more manners than most, but… surely they could survive without an ID? …No, probably not.

Gray irises blinked carefully down at them. Her average height makes her no less intimidating to them, even if she looks friendly from anyone else’s point of view. They’re sure they could take her, but they’d rather not.

She keeps that thread of concern. “Suspect… in the station bombing? So you were there?”

“Yes.”

There’s a moment where they both stand in silence before her eyes widen. It’s actually almost amusing, and a bit of tension releases from their shoulders at how much she fumbles over her next words. “Oh! Sorry. I—my apologies. My lessons always say to think before I speak. Um, if—if it makes you feel any better, some of the first responders said they already had a lead, so…”

She trails off, and then rallies just as quick, sending an embarrassed glance to where Amethyst’s back was turned to them. “A-Are you also looking to get a starter pokemon?”

Lord, though, why does she have to talk to them? Can't they both just stand awkwardly around in peace until either one of them leaves?

“No,” they respond, palming the single pokeball at their waist. Their starter hums impatiently within, remaining inert but still sensing their distress. “I’m… just here for an ID. And a league challenge application.”

Her previous hesitance seems to melt away unluckily quickly and she leans forward, intrigued. “You already have a pokemon, then?” She catalogs the single aquamarine-teal pokeball with interestt. “I assumed you’d be getting a starter like me, but I guess the other trainer showing up doesn’t need one either. That makes me the odd one out, huh?” Fingers twist in the Johtonian coat around her waist. A type of kimono, maybe, they weren’t sure. “So you’re starting a journey?”

Resist the urge to sigh. Resist the urge to sigh. Respond normally. Be nice.

This at least gave them some more information. So the other trainer that would be registered wasn’t getting a starter? It wasn’t rare, but they were sure it wasn’t common either. Reborn and its sister league, while requiring proper procedure, advertised themselves as much less strict with handing out starter-type pokemon to new trainers than most regions.

“Yeah,” they manage, stilted. “Bit old for it, huh?” Both of them were, by normal standards, but they didn’t know Reborn’s statistics. Most trainers left home at thirteen or less, and retired at twenty. They scratched at their sleeve, thinking for a moment. Might as well help out a little… “But we’ll probably be confined to the area for a while if you don’t have a fly permit.”

“Oh, wait, really? I was planning to go back to the academy before starting my circuit…”

Amethyst hums behind the counter. Both of them startle. “Yes, it’s all very unfortunate, but we’re probably going to have to restrict travel both between and out of wards.” She points to a map on the wall.

It’s only a map of the city, but it’s big, a great sprawling thing with seven labeled wards. The immediate ones branching off of the Opal Ward, which only houses the grand hall, are the Peridot, North Obsidia and Lower Obsidia Wards, which are west, north (obviously) and east, respectively.

“Beryl has already been sectioned off because of strenuous circ*mstances, and recently Lower Obsidia has had some similar complications. Unfortunately the only wards open from here are North Obsidia and Peridot, and we’ll be shutting down ocean travel for at least a month.”

Something apologetic is vaguely construed as she prints off a card of someone with spiky red hair. “If we don’t catch the suspect soon, then it’ll only take a day or so for Lower Obsidia to open, if you were really wanting to go despite everything.”

“Victoria, with me.”

Amethyst very promptly f*cks off behind the counter before either of them can agree. Just thrown out of a train and now freshly abandoned by their guide, they share a tired look with Victoria. She sympathizes with a scrunched expression that makes her seem acclimated to the manager’s quick attitude.

“I’m sorry about her shortness,” she excuses. “Amethyst has been overworked for a while now, and this is just adding more to it, especially since she’s losing some manpower, too.”

Then she gives them an expectant look. “Would you be willing to wait for me here?” Oh, lord. “I already know what pokemon I want, so it won’t be long.”

She knows how to catch someone on an off-beat… And even though they’d thought of it just seconds before, it wasn’t like they could just leave without an ID, not unless they wanted trouble. In a region like this, they wanted as little trouble as they could get. It wasn’t like they wanted to become just another criminal haunting the streets, and without legal documentation, they’d never get anywhere. Reborn was landlocked, after all, and was more than likely to be barricaded again now. No more trains left to get them out of this one.

Reluctantly, they wave her off toward Amethyst, nodding. She brightens up (“Thank you!”) and hurries over to the league manager, though a gruff “Really, Amethyst?” is grumbled under her breath even as she follows. They share their tired look with the ground once she’s gone. Their starter vibrates in their pokeball, commiserating.

A few people stare at their no-doubt uncomfortably stark form now that they’re alone. Specter is sure they must look scary at the very least, sticking out like a sore thumb in their thick, ankle-reaching trench coat and biker-chauffeur hat. Their face doesn’t help matters either. Maybe they look like an accomplished trainer already? Most high-tier trainers had their own aesthetic going for them.

Not that they really care. It’s admittedly a little funny to see so many people going out of their way to try and sneak past someone who was barely five-four. It does make them even more wary, though.

Taking a moment for inventory nets little. They’d forgotten what they packed, but it seemed to only be a handful of pokeballs and potions. No phone… the train incident had likely tossed theirs somewhere. Silph bags could protect from a lot beside their unimaginable inventory space, but they fuzzily remembered having taken the device out on the ride. Well, it wasn’t like they had anyone to call in the first place.

Two antidotes, an awakening, a paralyze heal, three potions, a handful of oran berries, some basic trainer supplementaries—

“Hey, was Ame just here?”
They jump like a shot.

Their social awareness should be better than this, but the crowded area and one after the other events apparently threw them off. It takes effort to turn slowly and not to just spin around on their heel, turning to face their blind spot.

Curved hunter’s eyes blink down at them, deceptively wide for the set of his features.

Their assailant has thick purple hair and equally purple eyes. The hair style is a bit extreme, with a long fringe hanging over one of those eyes along with most of the right side of his angular face, the rest of it tied up in a spiky full-spiral tail.
God, is everyone taller than them? He’s tall, and he’s wearing two inches of platforms. Seemingly married to his favorite color, he’s also got purple jeans and a purple-with-plaid stripes over-jacket with only a mesh shirt underneath. The shirt, naturally, doesn’t hide his chest at all. (It’s going to be cold out, is he wearing that all day?)

There’s no way this guy isn’t a poison specialist, they think, halfway into his accompanying statement of “Heyyyy, you’re cute.”

If that didn’t stop their thoughts in their tracks, nothing would. The compliment doesn’t even register for the force of their confusion. -“H-Huh??”

The taller man grins cattily. “What? Haha, no, I didn’t say anything.” But then he winks, directly contradicting himself when he sticks his tongue out in an equally coquette manner. “Unless you wanna take me up on a date, cutie, ‘cause then I definitely asked.”

HUH?????????
Forget everything they’d thought in the last few minutes. This is maybe the most unbelievable thing that’s ever happened to them. They can feel the flush that takes over their face, rushing along their cheeks to their ears and throat. Again, forget whatever propriety anyone else here had exhibited, Julia and Victoria and otherwise; this was the exact opposite of what they’d expected.

Almost lightheaded from all the blood rushing to their face, they draw their hand up to their chest and barely avoid stepping back from where he’s leaned slightly (markedly non-maliciously) into their space. “I—that’s—you,” Arceus save them.

They try to look at anything that isn’t the other’s rapidly growing grin and fail miserably, unable to muster up any sort of reply, whether rebuttal or not. For lack of words, their fingers go to the brim of their cap and tug it down as if to shield themself.

He laughs in response, loud and bright and cheerful. It’s only the fact that they still need ID and that he sounds genuinely charmed by their reaction that keeps them from escaping the interaction immediately.

They struggle to settle themself, shaking their head desperately to clear their red face. It works only minimally. He has to be f*cking with me.

“So, am I getting your name anytime this year~?”

They snort despite it all, still red in the face, and finally hold out their hand to him, if still somewhat nervously. Grasping oddly soft, uncalloused fingerpads for a poison specialist, “Specter.” Breathe, stupid. “MSN Ghost.” He has a surprisingly strong grip.

“Cain. Cain LaRue.” He grins at the considering look they give his name (it’s a pretty good one) and doesn’t mention their hesitation. Instead he squeezes their hand flirtatiously before letting go. The horrid pink color that had just begun to fade from their cheeks resurfaces with an immediate vengeance.

“Specter, huh? Pretty name, if kind of on the nose.” He crosses his arms and smiles at the way they quickly re-fluster, looking beyond satisfied with their easy reactions. “The initials mean anything?” A wink. “Not that they have to.”

What is his deal? Does he just have low standards? Is he like this with everyone? He probably is, but whatever the stipulation, it makes their stance unsteady again. “I…” Setting their hand back on their hat’s brim, “I-It’s bad luck to give your full name to strangers.”

“We don’t have to be strangers, you know~.”
Someone needs to save them before they die.

It takes a second for them to finally manage to avert their gaze, and they use their hair to hide their face. Scrambling for what he’d said before, all they can manage to force past their tangled tongue and burning cheeks is a stilted “A-Amethyst is with someone else right now.”

“Really?” He looks at them even more closely, now notably more perceptive.

Disregarding his flirtation, he was definitely a trainer. He had that look in his eye of someone who knew how to command pokemon and do it well, a special kind of scalpel-gaze they rarely saw on other people. He brushes his fingers over his chin in thought. “Say, you wouldn’t happen to be one of the other trainers Amethyst said would show up?”

It’s only too easy for him to arrive at the correct conclusion. They’d usually wonder whether there was a debrief they weren’t privy to, but it’s a fairly simple assumption to make.

Of course, he immediately derails them again. Like a dog with a bone, his coy expression resurfaces again. “If you are, once you get your starter, what do you say we go a few rounds~?” Good lord. They bury themself in their coat, tugging their hat down further. “If it’s your first time, I promise to be gentle~.”

Whosoever deity was watching this trainwreck of a conversation seemingly shined a light of grace on them then, because Amethyst’s voice carries across the lobby.

“There you are!”

Their cheeks are still redder than the fur of a flareon, but they let out a soft breath when Cain finally turns away and tones down his wide grin to a lazy, close-mouthed smile. “Sorry~ I kinda stole Specter. Did I hold you up any?”

Coming down from the stairwell they’d left from, Amethyst just sighed and guided Victoria back over to them, clearly used to his antics already. “Not at all. Actually, I’d almost forgotten you were the one coming by until I processed your trainer card.” She admits easily. “It looks like you’re getting along well, though.”

“Does it??”

Cain makes a motion as if to touch them, half sweeping his hands about like he was going to use their shoulder as an armrest. “Yep! It’s okay~ while you were gone, I met Specter and had some fun~.” Thankfully, he holds back from doing so at the last minute.

“Can you not say it like that.”
“Nope, sorry! Gotta!”

The two women look at them questioningly and Specter resists the urge to squirm in embarrassment. “He’s f*cking with you.”

Amethyst folds her arms with a reticent look, but the apprentice half of the other equation raises an eyebrow, seemingly tamping down on her amusem*nt. “So that’s the kind of person you are?” She asks, only half-seriously.

(From the slighted party: “HEY??”)

Cain just laughs, again loud and boisterous. It fills the room and draws no small amount of eyes, but that doesn’t stop him for a second. It’s… admirable, actually. “Nah, I’m kidding.” Another motion, this time very nearly brushing their hair, making them jump again. “We just had a little talk. I actually wanted to ask for a battle, but we didn’t get to it.”

Cutting through the chatter, Amethyst makes at the lot of them the same face that she’d directed at Julia earlier. “If you don’t mind, I can hand you all your pokegears and send you on your way. I’ve still got some more damage control to run, so there’s little time for me to talk.”

All of the three of them go still, chastised all at once.
“Right, right… Whoops!” “Oh, of course!” “Fine.”

In quick succession, she gives them all a single league verified trainer card, along with a small device each, all patterned in Reborn-logo black and other four colors.

Name: Specter || ID: 20493
Money: ₽5000 || Dex: 2/695
Time: 2:37

And then she’s gone.
Again, they rub their hand on their lapels.

“So, Cain, what are you doing here? As far as I knew, you were still over in the poison ward.”
“Ah… I was just coming here to—to start over. Figured I’d take on the league instead, y’know?”
“And your friend… ah. I never got their name. Have you cracked them already?”

They tune back into the conversation with a start. “Huh?” Cracked? What cracked?

A set of twin smiles meets them instead of a response. One is thin and faint, the other wild and almost foxlike. No reaction is forthcoming. A sense of unease passes over them, though it’s absolutely less than they’d felt coming into the Grand Hall.

“I… whatever. You two know each other, then?”

The black-haired girl easily takes the baton pass for what it is. “Only in passing, but yes! I often dealt with league matters for my sensei at Apophyll, and Cain would occasionally be around at this hall when I showed up.” That’s interesting. So she was a liaison? “Where are you from?”

Pause. Their head is scrambled enough that they have to think about it for a second. “Orre.”

Unprompted and seemingly unthinkingly, Cain lets loose a “So from one sh*thole to another.”

Victoria admonishes the purple haired trainer half heartedly, something that still didn’t stop them from letting out a wild noise of amusem*nt. They nearly cackle, delighted despite everything, unable to put a lid on the noise before it rips from them: a sharp bark followed by shaky chuckling.

“And there it is,” she murmurs quietly, looking almost fondly as Cain practically glows at the success. “Never fail to make a friend, huh, Cain?”

Huh? They blink a little as they try to regain their composure, covering their stifled smile with their hand. Friend? We’ve barely spoken. Was this just Reborn’s culture, or was it something to do with trainers starting out at the same time? Are they really… well. They stop themself before they can ask. Cain looks happy. So. For measure of friend, I suppose. Still, they palm Subpoena’s pokeball and hide their face again in the side of their coat, valiantly ignoring the funny warmth in their chest.

Maybe it wasn’t just Cain that was good at riling them up, maybe everyone in the region had this newly called on ability to render Specter entirely speechless.

As if sensing their emotions, Cain drops the previous topic easily. “Hey, aren’t you hot in that? Well, besides the obvious~.” He motions to their outfit: the coat paired with their dark, high-clasped pants and striped white-purple shirt. The long sleeves and hat on top of their similarly long hair does even less favors.

“H-Huh? Oh. No.” Actually, despite the pollution and the late summer setting, the city had been oddly chill, like it was frozen at the tail end of autumn. Besides that, Orre was… well. They compose themself and give him another once over in return, not so subtly looking up and down his mesh shirt. “Aren’t you cold?”

Victoria titters somewhat awkwardly. Her “I was wondering that too,” prompts Cain to chuckle as well, crossing his arms behind his head.

“Nope, but it’s nice to know you’re paying attention to me~ I’m over from Byxbysion, so basically any new air is like heaven.” He grins over at the both of them, something that looks criminally at home on his face. “What about you two? Used to the heat?”

“Actually, yes!” The maybe-fighting specialist’s arm is half inside her kimono(?)-coat when she gestures. “I told you I’m from Apophyll, and it’s usually pretty hot next to the volcano. It’s kind of cold here, really.”

“You already know I’m from Orre.”
“Uuugh, yeah, that’s gotta suck. Guess we’re both from the badlands, huh?”
“Cain!”
“No, no, he’s right. Let him speak.”

“Hey, wait,” Cain tilts his head, pointing at the single pokeball hanging from Specter’s belt. “If you’re from Orre, how do you have a pokemon?”

That gets a sardonic look from Victoria. “You know they do have pokemon in Orre, right?”
“Right…”

No, but he’s just about correct again. Orre was pretty much a wasteland, only populated by people and their imported or scavenged pokemon. Specter was starting to wonder if the wards here were like that, too. There didn’t seem to be a lot of mons out when they were walking, and what pokemon were there were generally considered city vermin, mostly unfit for actual battling.

“Chance meeting. We’ve been together a while—friendship and whatnot.” The image of Subpoena flashes to mind, and the pokeball on their belt wiggles. “No real battling, though, just basic experience.”

“Haha, I can understand that. If you ever need some real experience though—,” His inevitable tilde-ended sentence is cut off by a light punch from Victoria which seems like it should’ve sent his reedy frame spinning. “Kidding! Kidding. What about you, Victoria?”

Pacified, she hums, even if Cain winces slightly and rubs his arm when she’s not looking. “Oh! Well, we trained with some of the resident pokemon at the academy, but it never seemed the right time for me. I plateaued lately in my training, so Sensei sent me to try the gym circuit.” As if copying Subpoena, the ball at her belt wiggles as well.

“Well, since we’re here and all… it isn’t against the law to let our ‘mons out to breathe.” Like it just occurred to him, he purrs as he says “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours?”

“Good lord,” Specter mutters. Louder, “Fine. I wouldn’t mind that.”

—————— - - - - -

COMMIT TO A PARTNER BASED ON THE WHIMS OF FATE?

ROLLING FOR FATE…
CALCULATING DESTINIES…
UNCROSSING THE TIMELINES…

FATE HAS DECIDED.

- - - - - ——————

Thankfully no one looks over in their direction as they release their pokemon one after the other.

Victoria’s Litten is standard league fare; it looks to be as strong as any other starter, decently sized, with a thick, hardy coat of fur coupled with sharp teeth it flashes to yawn. She quickly sweeps it up like one would with a house pet, and, oddly for the species, it lets her.
Litten ⦻ Level 8 ⦻ Bashful

Cain releases a Nidoran, colored a slight blue-indigo but with the appearance of a male. Cain obviously does not move to pick it up, so it stays at their feet, standing at a slightly larger than average height. It looks to be already close to evolving with the clear control it has over its poison pins.
Nidoran ⦻ Level 14 ⦻ Bashful

Subpoena touches down much less happily than either of them, shaking out desaturated forest green fur and dark blush pink leaves. It stands taller than most of its species, the tip of its head level with their mid-thigh. When they reach out for its ears it turns toward them searchingly.
Leafeon ⦻ Level 22 ⦻ Adamant

As seems to be his nature, Cain immediately zeroes in on the easiest joke target, sending a friendly smirk Victoria’s way. “Should’ve known the apprentice would pick a pokemon with a pro wrestler evolution.”

“Hey! Well, that was part of my reasoning…” She smiles shyly. Specter spares a second to check her arms still cradling the form of her now sleeping litten and, yeah, her biceps are huge. Paired with her wide shoulders, they have no doubt about it. “I wanted a partner I could spar alongside.” No sh*t.

Still, the sentiment is understood. They warm a little more. They still needed to get back to doing that. “Nothing wrong with training with your pokemon.”

“Hey, speaking of which, I can see why you didn’t wanna battle.” Cain lightly taps his Nidoran with a foot. Risky, but his shoes seem to be enhanced. “I’ve gotta train my buddy a bit before he can fight an evolved mon, even with a type advantage.”

Subpoena preens slightly at their feet, flicking warm toned ears and sitting flat between their boots.

“A chance meeting with an eevee had to have been pretty lucky, huh?” Like mirroring its trainer’s words, the Litten mraahs in its sleep. “You’re no ordinary trainer, are you?”

They don’t have to snort because Subpoena does it for them. “It wasn’t money, if that’s what you’re asking. Most over there in Orre are as broke as a trick room.” Meeting with Subpoena as an eevee was more an act of god than it could ever be deliberate engineering, especially since any eevee sold for upward of several ten thousand ₽.

Then she tilts her head. “It’s odd though, your Leafeon definitely has different coloring than normal. Looks absolutely like a reborn ‘mon if I’ve ever seen one.”

“Oh? Really?” They looked Subpoena over. The coloring wasn’t normal, sure, but they’d assumed it to just be something that happened. Besides its increased size, Subpoena’s habits and structure were practically printed on Specter’s brain, so they hadn’t really noticed anything off besides the pallet. Huh.

Obviously not all Leafeon were nearly waist length or wore green fur into pink-red leaves, but it just hadn’t crossed their mind at all.

“Oh, there’s nothing wrong with it! Actually, it looks a little larger than most. I’m almost jealous.” A trained cat owner, it seems, she turns Litten in her arms to nuzzle her cheek against its face. It grunts audibly. “Maybe it was a Reborn eevee? You could say us meeting here was like fate! My sensei did say learning to work with pokemon would be an invaluable step in my endeavors and destiny.”

Cain bumps her shoulder familiarly. It’s a testament to his character that she only seems briefly startled. “Still a schoolgirl at heart.”

“I told you, it’s much more than schooling.” That seems to annoy her if only slightly. She rolls her eyes, tapping a foot. “I should actually get going to start training, but…”

Ah. Is this where they get the ‘talk to me sometime’ and then no one ever meets each other again? “If either of you are ever in the area, Apophyll is right across the lake! I’m sure we’d all love to have your visit.”

Seems like it. “Not exactly sure how quick either of us is gonna get there without a ticket.” They knock their foot against Subpoena. The Nidoran eyes them, seemingly picking up on their slight trepidation. “Not mentioning the lockdown.”

Cain grasps the opportunity that they leave with both hands.

“Hey, before we all go, can I get your pokegear numbers?”

That stumps both Specter and Victoria. They blink at him with wide eyes, to which he just grins beams equally wide. “Hahaha—I mean it! Cmon!” Goading, he lightly nudges Victoria again, turning his beseeching expression at them. “It would suck to lose contact with my starting buddies. We can all go out together before we split!”

Victoria nods, slowly and then wildly, like trying to get her brain back in order. “Of course! I didn’t even think of that. It would be nice to have some way to talk while on the road. Here!”

She holds out her pokegear and turns to look at them in time with Cain. The two of them are like twin suns, standing side to side, palpably delighted.

Dazed, all they can muster is a “I… I guess. Yeah, okay.”

Cain registers his number under “❤ Love of your life”, to which they quickly add a (NO.) to the end of. Victoria, much more tame in comparison, puts a simple “Victoria” that they add a ࿊ to after a moment. They’re unsure what the other two save their contact as, but they initially just write “Specter”.

Pretty Boy Cain Theseus LaRue
Male ⦻ He/Him ⦻ Relaxed

Apprentice Victoria Baikal Marlow
Female ⦻ She/Her ⦻ Brave

———— - - - -
- - - - ————
Trainer Specter M.S.N. Ghost // ID: 20493

Subpoena : Leafeon :
This Leafeon is proud of its power and is of Adamant nature, with the ability Sharpness and the secondary ability Chlorophyll.
———— - - - -
- - - - ————
KEY ITEMS: Pokegear
———— - - - -
- - - - ————