SoulSilver is addicting. :D

You know who reminds me of Thorton? Death the Kid, from Soul Eater. I have no idea why. Maybe it's the weird, sleepy eyes. :P

Disclaimer: I don't own Pokémon.

Raising one hand to shield his head from the steady downpour falling from the inky storm clouds above, Thorton let out a forlorn sigh. He then turned to the blond-haired Frontier Brain sitting next to him. "You know, Palmer," the Factory Head began after a short moment, "when I first met you, I thought you were an idiotic moron with the mental capacity of a Slowpoke. But now, since we're about to die and all..." He trailed off into silence, looking thoughtful.

The Tower Tycoon's heart swelled in pride. He waited for the boy to praise his fantastic leadership skills, or say that he was the greatest battler he'd ever known, or countless other well-deserved compliments... but, strangely, the Factory Head didn't continue.

"...Uh, you were saying?" Palmer finally prodded, after an agonizing silence. Thorton looked up and blinked.

"Oh, well, I was just going to say that I still think you're an idiotic moron with the mental capacity of a Slowpoke."

"Damn you, Thorton!" The heartbreaking moment shattered, and Palmer lapsed into a loud tirade of angry swearing. Then, trying to salvage the situation, he said in a falsely optimistic voice, "Well, er, at least we're safe up here. I mean, things could be a whole lot worse, right?"

Darach sighed. "Palmer, we are hiding in a tree," he said delicately, "in the rain, and with half a dozen angry Ursaring below. I really don't think things could get much worse." The Castle Valet hesitated, then added apologetically, "And you'll have to forgive me for being so rude, but this whole situation is your fault to begin with."

"Oh, yeah, don't worry—that doesn't offend me at all."

"It is true, though," Thorton spoke up, and his tone of voice suggested that he was talking to a stubborn child rather than a coworker. "For Rayquaza's sake, you kicked the Ursaring leader in the face! It's no wonder it was so mad—"

"It was in my tent! Not to mention the fact that it was so dark out, I could hardly see anything," Palmer protested violently, causing the branch the three Brains were sitting on to wobble dangerously. "I heard something rifling through my bag and thought you guys were trying to steal my candy bars while I was sleeping."

"And your first thought was to react with violence? What if it actually had been one of us?"

The Frontier Brain leader opened his mouth and then promptly closed it, giving him the overall appearance of a beached Magikarp. "They're my candy bars," he weakly offered. There was a short, disbelieving pause as the Tower Tycoon's words sunk in.

"Clearly, you've taken on a few of Miss Dahlia's bad habits, Palmer," Darach said at last, breaking the mortified silence. "Please do your best not to corrupt Lady Caitlin."

Rolling his eyes, Thorton added unnecessarily, "After all, your idiocy could very well be contagious."

"That's enough, you two! I get it, okay?" The branch wobbled again, and one of the pacing Ursaring below looked up with a low growl. "Look," Palmer ground out, breathing heavily, "how about we come up with a plan instead of talking about how stupid I apparently am?"

"Because insulting you is a whole lot easier," the Factory Head answered promptly. Then, when the blond man looked to be on the verge of throwing an angry fit, the boy quickly added, "Well, we did manage to save our bags, for a start. An inventory check would be a good first step. Maybe one of us has something useful." He pulled his backpack off his shoulders and set it on his lap, unzipping the main pocket:

Thorton's bag yielded his analysis machine, a jar of potent-looking hair gel, an uncompleted jigsaw puzzle, two packs of gum, a stapler, six pencils, a harmonica, and a book titled, 'How To Survive With An Idiotic Boss.'

Darach's bag, on the other hand, contained three cans of disinfectant spray, a fancy gold pocket watch, two bottles of aspirin, a feather duster, an extra pair of glasses, a book on coping with OCD, and a lovingly framed picture of Caitlin.

Palmer fumed. "Why," he thundered, "did you two feel the need to bring along all this useless crap?"

Thorton crossed his arms and glared right back. "It's not useless!" he argued stubbornly. "Besides, you didn't show us what's in your bag, Blockhead Tycoon." He reached over and yanked away the Frontier Brain leader's backpack, but the blond held fast, pulling back. "Hand it over, Palmer," the Factory Head snapped impatiently.

"No! Just give it back—there's nothing in it, I swear!"

"Give it to me!"

"Make me, Shorty!"

This went on for almost an entire minute before Darach, glancing back and forth at the tug-of-war session warily, spoke up. "Um," the Castle Valet said meekly, "why don't you just... give the bag to him, Palmer? This branch doesn't seem very—"

Snap!

"—stable," the butler finished, with a pained groan. "My clothes are all muddy now," he lamented sadly, pushing himself up from the ground and looking as though he wanted to cry. Palmer, lying listlessly a few feet away, flashed the other man a rude hand gesture. "Ha, you think you feel like shit?" the Tower Tycoon laughed, rather humorlessly. "I've got a twig the size of Arceus sticking up my—"

The Frontier Brain leader's complaints were then interrupted by a sudden exclamation from Thorton who, having finally gained possession of the blond's backpack, was holding something in his hand with an expression of disbelief in his half-lidded eyes. "Palmer..." the teen said slowly, "why do you have a stuffed Piplup in your bag?"

Silence.

The Tower Tycoon's eye twitched dangerously. "Give Mr. Pippy back," he growled. "Now. Or else I'll—"

"Ha, there's a zero percent chance of that happening. Just you wait until I tell the others that our great leader has a soft spot for Poké Dolls!"

Palmer clenched his jaw and drew a fist back. "Say goodbye to those pretty teeth, Shorton."

Fortunately, Darach interrupted before the Factory Head had a chance to retaliate. "Forgive me for cutting in," he said pleadingly, "but the Ursaring—"

"Not now, Darach. Thorton and I are in the middle of a very important conversation." The blond man had the teen in a painful-looking headlock, grinning manically. "Hand over Mr. Pippy," he panted, mashing his knuckles against the boy's scalp. The younger Brain struggled a bit, unsuccessfully attempting to elbow his assailant in the eye, and then relinquished his hold on the stuffed Piplup, defeated.

"Palmer," the teen grumbled once he was free, rubbing his neck, "you have terrible B.O. Haven't you ever heard of deodorant?"

"Shut it." The Frontier Brain Leader tucked the Poké Doll safely under his arm. "Er, now what were you saying, Darach?"

"I was saying—" the butler began timidly, but his words were cut off quite abruptly as one of the long-forgotten Ursaring let out a angry roar, scuffing at the ground with its claws. "—I was saying it would probably be a good idea for us to run right about now!" he finished frantically. Several of the bear-like Pokémon, eyes glowing with mingled curiosity and aggression, were inching toward the three Brains, seemingly unbothered by the dark, stormy weather, and Palmer took an uncertain step backwards. Nervously, the Tower Tycoon drew a deep breath.

"Great idea," he chuckled lamely. "In fact, that's pretty much the best idea I've heard all day." The blond turned and ran, his two coworkers mimicking his actions, and, roaring loudly, the Ursaring gave chase.

"Just so you know, Caitlin... When I die, I want my tombstone to be made out of solid chocolate. The good chocolate, too, none of that cheap, waxy, crap chocolate." Dahlia paused in mid-thought, pondering. "And the epitaph can read, 'Here lies Dahlia, the one and only Arcade Star. Tragically kicked the proverbial bucket after watching too many scary movies.'" Clearly immersed in a wonderful fantasy of sugary grave markers, the black-haired woman lapsed into content silence. The Castle princess, on the other hand, glared at her coworker through the darkness.

"I'm glad," she snapped icily, "that you seem to find the situation so amusing." It actually would have been quite intimidating if the girl hadn't been anxiously dancing on her tip-toes, eyes darting every which way and jumping at the slightest sound. "Argenta," she continued in a slightly higher-pitched voice, "have you f-found a flashlight yet?"

"Still looking!" In the dark, the Hall Matron rummaged through closets, crates, and boxes with a slightly frenzied urgency. "Ugh, it's so ironic that as soon as we have a power failure, the emergency flashlight's nowhere to be found..."

"Hey! Hey, I found it, 'Genta!" The sudden exclamation came from Dahlia and the Hall Matron, caught off-guard, jumped in surprise and ended up smacking her head on the cupboard she was submerged in. "You found the flashlight?" the magenta-haired woman called, holding back a pained groan as she rubbed her throbbing forehead. Through the nonexistent lighting conditions, she could just barely make out the frames of her two coworkers. The blurry figure she assumed was Dahlia was jumping about excitedly.

"Yeah, it's right here! I—oh, wait." The Arcade Star's shoulders slumped. "Uh... false alarm, 'Genta, it's a bottle of shampoo. Never mind." The black-haired Frontier Brain sounded crushed.

Fortunately, Caitlin piped up before Argenta had a chance to bury her head in her hands and sob, holding out something in her outstretched hand. "What about this? I think it was sitting by your incense garden. It's a... kitchen lighter?" The princess fumbled around with the object for a moment, before flipping the trigger with a small click. The room was suddenly illuminated by a tiny fire flickering at the lighter's end.

"Great idea, Cait!" Dahlia cheered, scrambling over to stare at the happy little flame, mesmerized. "We can BURN something!" She made a swipe for the lighter, but the Hall Matron grabbed it from Caitlin's hand first.

"Dahlia, you can go ahead and incinerate your own facility, but leave mine out of it," Argenta said firmly.

"But I'm trying to save us, 'Genta," the black-haired woman protested hysterically, lunging for the lighter again. "Do you know nothing about horror movies? This building is cursed! Fire is the only way to exorcise the demons!" She collapsed onto the nearest sleeping bag, staring up at the ceiling and waving her hands around wildly. "I can sense them now, hiding in the shadows! The ghosts are hungry... They want to feast on our brains!"

"Dahlia..." Argenta sighed exasperatedly. A quiet buzzing sound suddenly sounded from somewhere in the room, and the magenta-haired woman blinked, patting her pockets. "It's my cell phone... Damn, does anyone see it?" She wandered through the room, peering under the sleeping bags and behind the plush couch in front of the television. Finally, she found the little electronic device hiding beneath an empty snack bowl.

"Don't answer it, Argenta," the Arcade Star urged, eyes wide. "The ghosts are on the other end, waiting for you to receive their call. They'll try to suck out your soul if you answer them!"

"No, they're not. You're just hallucinating after putting too much sugar in your system." Pinching the bridge of her nose in annoyance, the older woman flipped open her phone, putting it up to her ear. "Hello..?"

The voice on the other end was garbled, unrecognizable through the static. "Argen... this is... trapped an... ome help, becau... trying to run—"

Beep.

The phone went dead and fell from the Hall Matron's hand, and Caitlin clapped her hands over her mouth, face pale. Dahlia drew a slow, foreboding breath.

"It's the ghosts," she whispered. "They've marked us as their next victims!"

"Did you get ahold of Argenta?" Palmer gasped, his heart pounding against his chest. They had made it back to the Battle Frontier, thankfully escaping the group of Ursaring with nothing more serious than a few cuts and scratches, one or two missing shoes, and a certain degree of permanent mental scarring. Thorton tucked his analysis machine back into his pocket with a sigh, sinking down to the ground in exhaustion. He shot the Tower Tycoon an annoyed look.

"Do you know how hard it is to dial and run for your life at the same time?" he snapped irritably. "Yes, I talked to her." The boy hesitated. "Well, I think I did, at least. The signal was so weak, I'm not sure if I even got through to her at all."

If Palmer was disappointed, he did little to show it. The blond man puffed up his chest, forcing himself to stand tall and attempting to regain some semblance of control over the situation, plastering a wide grin on his face. "Well, at any rate, we made it out of there alive! Not bad, huh?"

The other two didn't seem to share his, albeit fake, enthusiasm. Darach, rubbing his ankle, turned to face the Frontier Brain leader with a grimace. "No amount of therapy will ever make these past few hours okay," he said bluntly.

"Oh, quit complaining." Squinting through the darkness, the Tower Tycoon trudged his way to the far end of the Frontier, where the Battle Hall was situated. The flashing lights that emitted from the surrounding spotlights were absent, and the stadium-like facility, as a result, looked eerie and uninviting. The blond prodded at one of the lights with his foot. "Power's out," he grumbled. The man raised a hand to the keypad attached to the door to punch in the passcode, but Darach walked up and shook his head.

"I'm afraid that's not going to work," the Castle Valet explained reluctantly. "Not in the middle of a power failure, at least."

Palmer looked around desperately. "Doesn't Argenta keep a spare key around?"

"She used to," Thorton interjected helpfully, "but your Rhyperior ate it, remember?" The older man let out a groan.

"I thought it was funny at the time," he mumbled, tugging fistfuls of his blond hair. "Not anymore." Biting his lip, the Tower Tycoon sank into a depressive silence. Then, suddenly, his head shot up in inspiration. "Thorton..." he said slowly, "how much do you know about breaking and entering?"

A tiny smile flickered across the Factory Head's mouth. "Well, I did help design these buildings," the boy began, a mischievous glint entering his half-lidded eyes. "So I daresay I know more than the average person."

"Great." The Frontier Brain leader cracked his knuckles and grinned widely. "I'd say it's time for Plan B."

I smell chaos approaching... D: