Chapter 7, or Wavering.

Edit 5-11-13: Things looked over, hopefully most typos have been corrected.

Edit 6-10-13 and 6-11-13: More typos caught and fixed, lines adjusted, words added/removed.


OCs will be accepted for the entirety of this story. See the form on my profile and send by PM only.


Blade had been well aware that a showdown with Nina would be inevitable, but he definitely wasn't expecting it to be in a café. It was a quaint little place with striped awnings and dainty tables decorating the front, complete with a pair of pretty little chairs for each. In the interior it was cozy and homey, bustling with life and cheerful calls of waiters and cooks, with warm brown tiles complimenting the subdued gray of the ceiling. Wooden tables with deep ruts on the corners, almost as if they had been Cut to look precisely so, only added to its appeal.

But Blade didn't notice any of this, concentrating only on the drink sitting in a white mug in front of him, noting with agitation the glass panel on his side separating him from the outdoors and trying to ignore the girl sitting across from him. They were 'debating' over hot drinks, rather than having some sort of fight to the death at which they both excelled at, and frankly, it pissed him off – enough that a corner of his lips was quirked down in what he was beginning to think was a permanent scowl.

But he still wasn't angry enough to stab her, yet, as Nina lazily stirred her spoon in her tea, chattering aimlessly away, one hand tangled in her scarlet locks. The amount of sugar in her 'hot leaf drink' had been shocking and he was sure she would be bouncing off the walls, and now he was convinced, through a haze of anger, that it was just making her more and more annoying. Arceus dammit, she had a talent on getting on his nerves…

"And that's why I'm so much better than you," she was saying, and he resisted the very strong urge to lunge forward and Slash her throat. It would be so easy; all he would have to do is lean forward, lift his hand, and run it against and through her neck, that pale little stub that was no match against his sharper nails, and there would be blood everywh – he blinked and thought that he was perhaps closer to stabbing her than he had previous thought. "Which is why next time, leave the whole thing to me."

Blade took a moment to recollect his bearings, working his anger down to a more manageable level. Then he leaned back in his chair, reaching for his cup of Pecha juice and bringing it to his lips, forcibly relaxing his jaw as he did so. "Without me, you won't be able to find them," he pointed out with exaggerated calm, briefly examining his drink for anything out of ordinary. Satisfied, he sipped the sweet juice and added with a sharp glare, "You can't track a mewling Skitty in the woods, let alone a Flame Rider."

Nina grimaced, hearing the truth in his words, and she grumbled, "Fine, I guess I need your help." But then she leaned forward and pointed her spoon at him, waving the curved metal around his face. He jerked his head back with a scowl as she said snidely, jabbing the spoon with every word, "But I get to do all the killing, okay?"

Blade gave her an unreadable look for a long moment, and he celebrated inwardly when her expression became a little uncertain after a few seconds and she squirmed just the slightest bit. It was nice to know he could still unnerve her with certain actions, he reflected, and so he waited and just stared at her face, frowning, waiting for the moment when she asked, "What?"

She did, a few seconds later, and he sipped his drink again, savoring the sweet, cool flavor before saying, "I can't believe you look forward to killing people, Nina."

The Ninetales flapped a dismissive hand and didn't respond, a sadistic smile on her face, and Blade sighed, letting his cup settle lightly back onto the wooden surface. He wasn't sure if he'd ever understand her – even he had second thoughts about taking someone's life, no matter if they were part of the Flame Riders and they had killed many and all of that jazz. But Nina… He shook his head slightly and exhaled softly through his nose, lifting his cup to his lips once more and downing the liquid within. Nina was an enigma, a curiously violent one. He wondered if there was something more behind her strange behaviors.

"You know, I'm still kind of surprised that we failed to find them on the first shot," Nina said to break the silence, and Blade raised an eyebrow, impressed that she had said 'we' rather than 'you'. She didn't even sound accusing. The Scizor, howeer, instead of speaking, merely shrugged, and Nina leaned forward on the table, tea temporarily forgotten, spoon held haphazardly in two fingers. "And I killed that girl. What am I supposed to do about that?"

Perhaps she did feel some remorse, Blade thought with slight surprise, and he shrugged again and said, "You should tell the Speaker – come clean, you know?"

"If I do that, I'll lose my job," Nina flashed back, and the Scizor said nothing in response, though he steadily met her eyes. "Nico would definitely get angry that I was so hasty. And have I ever told you that no one can beat our Speaker in a rage-off?"

"Yes, many times," Blade replied, and he tapped his finger against the side of his cup, his nails clinking against the white material. "Fortunately, I've been spared the fate of reporting to him, as you're the top Assassin rather than myself."

Rather than irk her, the remark simply preened her feathers, and the look on her face was rather haughty. "I know," she said with a smirk, and Blade resisted the very strong urge to roll his forest-green eyes. "You don't need to remind me."

You're right, I definitely don't! There was a tense silence for a moment, as Blade stared down at his cup while the Ninetales across from him continued to sip her scalding tea. The waiter at their table, a Sawsbuck from the looks of it, was giving them a wide berth, but it was at this time that he came forward and took Blade's cup with a murmured nicety of some sort, to which the Scizor gave a distracted nod.

Just as the waiter was turning to leave, however, Nina's hand snapped out, lightning-quick, and snagged the waiter's wrist. The Pokemon, with a startled jump, looked back at her, and while Blade was gesturing for her to let go because honestly, what the hell are you doing, but then she said with a smirk, "Well, this is a surprise. Blade, you remember Jeckyel, don't you?"

The name was familiar to Blade, and he gave the Pokemon a looking-over. Tall, around 6-foot, stocky, muscular – an experienced battler as well, if that nasty scar at his left temple to his chin was saying anything. The Sawsbuck, Jeckyel apparently, gave Nina a harsh glare. "Don't bother me while I'm working, please," he said coldly, gray eyes carefully directed away from her, and he freed himself from the Ninetales' iron grasp with a fluid motion Blade did not quite follow.

"How's that temper of yours, Jeckyel? Or should I say, Jecky," Nina called, her tone somehow condescending, to which Blade hissed at her under his breath to shut the fuck up. Predictably, she ignored his order, and Blade looked on helplessly as the waiter paused midstride, knuckles white around the rim of Blade's cup and threatening to crush the glass in his hand. And then Nina continued with, "We all know how easily you get angry – "

Another worker quickly came forward, a younger but good-looking boy, his hand delicate against the other's muscled arm as he led the brunet away with a quiet murmur; Blade strained to hear what the Sawsbuck said in response, but his voice was too low and the Scizor missed it. Nina continued to antagonize him from afar, though, her insults carrying on even when the younger boy flipped her the bird and the two disappeared behind an Employees Only door. She only stopped when Blade reached forward and roughly grabbed her arm, yanking her to her feet.

"We're leaving," he said in a clipped voice, fishing around in his pockets and leaving a generous tip to their waiter (Jeckyel, he remembered, and made a mental note of the name). His grip on the Ninetales' forearm was so tight he was drawing blood, but she didn't complain; instead, the smirk on her face grew wider, especially so as the bell rang cheerfully as they exited the building, and he felt a flare of anger.

"You are either a sadist or a psychopath or both. Do you like fucking with people like that?" Blade growled, releasing her arm. Rather than wiping his nails on his clothes, he instead scoured the blood off of them using hers, a disdainful look on his sharp, angular face as he snarled, "I can't believe you sometimes."

"I can't, either, because I am a goddess," she said in response, and ducked to avoid his not entirely half-hearted punch. She cackled as she added, straightening up and looking him straight in the eye, "Besides, Jeckyel's so easy to pick on. His temper is legendary, have I told you that?"

She had told him a lot of things, being an incurable gossip, but this was new. "Remind me, who is he again?" Blade asked, masking his annoyance with having to ask her something with an expressionless look. When she gave him an incredulous glance he muttered, "If I knew then I might be able to understand what you mean."

She rolled her eyes. "Please, Blade, can't you pay attention?" He bit back a sharp retort as she told him, "He's some higher-up in the Order of Arceus – not a Speaker but one of their aides or deputies or whatever you want to call them." She placed a single finger on her chin, thinking for a few moments, before saying, "He's the aide for the Speaker of Darkrai, if I'm not mistaken. Kind of a dark person, if you know what I mean!"

"Right." Something pink flashed in the corner of his eye, and he turned his head to see a flicker of pink fabric disappear around a corner. Whatever he was going to say next died in his throat, and at the same time Nina said, "I can smell them."

"Them being the – ?"

"Let's go."

At last, something they agreed on. He grinned at her, all tooth and fang, and gestured with his hand, already beginning to trot: "After you." She nodded at him and, with a final glance back at the café, began to sprint, nose up. He followed without another word.


"Don't worry about them, Jeckyel."

The person in question snorted, then exhaled loudly through his nose in frustration. "I know, but seriously, I wish she'd just fuck off for once," he grumbled, crossing bulky arms over a loose, gray T-shirt. Then he shot a sharp glance at the boy next to him and growled, "Tell me you don't agree, Jayden, I dare you."

"Oh, I do," the other, Jayden, agreed, nodding his head. He combed his fingers through his black hair, carefully minding the leaf-blade on his wrist, to push it out of his eyes, as he set the cup that Jeckyel had been holding moments before near the one of the café's sinks. "But she was just trying to rile you up."

"No shit." The Sawsbuck rubbed his temples with his fingers, muttering under his breath, "I hate this" before they walked back behind the cafe's main counter. The duo was gone, at least, though the boy hadn't seemed bad. Still, glancing over at his friend, Jeckyel looked a little sheepish as he said, with the tone of someone who didn't have to say it very often, "Thanks, dude."

Jayden flipped a dismissive hand, assuring him, "Not a problem." Jeckyel hissed when the leaf-blade on his wrist snagged on the Sawsbuck's sleeve, and the Sceptile across from him tugged it free with a wince, sigh, and practiced motion. "Sorry. But hey, Jeckyel."

"Yeah?"

The Sceptile cast a glance over the counter, out the window. "Wonder what was up with those two? They completely bolted, it looks like." His gaze was so intense on those walking outside that Jeckyel knew he had probably forgotten the patrons in the café; Jayden had that skill, to focus on one thing so intensely that there was no way that one thing couldn't be accomplished – or annihilated, one of the two.

The Sawsbuck shrugged in response, not that the Sceptile was looking, and then cast a few furtive glances to see if others were around. Seeing no others in close proximity, he lowered his voice and murmured, "They're Assassins. They probably just found whoever they were hunting."

Jayden considered this, tapping his chin with a slim finger. Then he nodded, shoving his hands into the pocket of his drab gray hoodie. "If that's the case, while I was walking to work today I saw a few of our Assassins. That's who they're probably after."

"What, really?" Jeckyel's frown deepened, and he leaned on the warm, honey-brown counter, minding the glass display that housed the café's desserts and other goodies. "What are Assassins from the Order of Kyurem doing in Veilstone of all places? My Order has their fucking headquarters here."

"I guess they're on a mission or something? I dunno," Jayden replied, shrugging helplessly. He waited a moment and then asked, "But it's strange, too – why would Assassins from your Order be chasing after them? They aren't supposed to mix any, right?"

"What d'you mean?"

"I mean – how to phrase this – you serve Arceus, I serve Kyurem, and our Assassins are, like, undercover agents or some shit like that. So they don't… meet each other?" Jayden nursed his lower lip for a moment before adding, "They don't try to hunt each other, is what I mean. They're, like, um…" Then the Sceptile's face lit up and he said enthusiastically, "Oil and water, that's what they're like. You know?"

Jeckyel nodded; Jayden sighed in relief, assured his point had gotten across. "Makes it especially odd," Jeckyel asserted, now outright scowling. For someone who appeared to be made entirely of brawn and anger, Jeckyel was not a stupid person – far from it, in fact. "Wonder if the Speaker knows about it."

Jayden shrugged. "Prolly not? Like, we just got a new Speaker and our top Assassins, the first and second, are still MIA. So's one of the test subjects." Jayden sighed and, noticing a splotch on the counter the Sawsbuck currently leaned against, fetched a cloth from the sink. He began to wipe the material down as he murmured, "Maybe your Assassins were offered some sort of reward for catching them and returning them to their Order or something."

"Shit just got weird," Jeckyel said after a moment, and Jayden made a small noise of agreement, continuing to clean the honey-colored counter. He then stepped outside the confines of said counter and began to wipe the glass display. The Sawsbuck went over to the table that had until recently held an annoying bitch and her not-annoying companion and noted the large tip - yep, the guy wasn't bad at all, at least he knew how irritating the girl was. He cleaned up the remaining cup and pocketed the money, and returned behind the counter before saying anything.

"S'all right if I tell my Speaker what you said about them?" he finally asked, catching Jayden's eye. The Pokemon's eye color changed with the seasons; currently, it was rusty red-brown, bright and deep, capturing the essence of autumn. He cracked a small grin at the Sceptile and admitted, "Don't wanna get off the wrong foot with you."

"As long as it's all right if I tell mine," the Sceptile responded, smiling. The two gave each other a nod, before Jeckyel left to coddle (figuratively, of course – Jeckyel hated to be touched) a sorry-looking patron who seemed to be out of caffeinated bean juice. Jayden went right on cleaning up the front counter, calling out a greeting to a young couple that entered.

Just another day doing the day job, he supposed.


Zila heard it first, but Yue was the first to react.

"Hikaru, we're being pursued," she told the two calmly, and without a word the ninja flashed past them on the stone roads, makeshift pink scarf snapping in the wind. The Arcanine exchanged a look with the Zoroark, his yellow eyes glimmering with something unreadable; then they both pounced forward, hard on the Accelgor's heels, their feet making a sort of clapping noise against the cobblestones of Veilstone City.

The Bug-type led them directly where they had left via a convoluted route of alleys and side streets, and soon enough they found themselves the slums. Yue knew it was an effort to mask their scent with the disgusting smells peppering the place, and as she thought it she scrunched her nose up in an effort to dam said scents from reaching her. "Let's get out of here," she called to Hikaru, and she saw him nod even while sprinting. He changed direction with a pretty little pivot of his foot, snapping off in the new direction without so much as a break in speed. She and Zila followed slightly less elegantly.

Soon Yue began to measure her breathing, spacing them out evenly, listening to the rapid footsteps behind them as other Pokemon called out as they raced past. They passed a bar, where drunken laughter and clinks of glasses and high-pitched giggling could be heard; they went past a small girl sucking her thumb, looking at them with wide, innocent brown eyes, her hand extended for any money that could be spared. Yue wished they could stop – but she did not want to trade her safety for the little girl's temporary wellbeing, and her regrets were forgotten when they eventually ended up at one of the side gates, sprinting past so quickly the drowsy guards had no time to react; in fact, they were still straightening up when their pursuers whipped past them as well, and saw nothing but two figures chasing three others.

"Are they the people from before?" Zila asked breathlessly, his longer legs lending him a greater stride but not necessarily an advantage. Hikaru was still ahead of them by a good distance, leaping forward with seemingly impossible speed, and while Yue was keeping up with ease the Dark-type was unsuited to such travel and was huffing and puffing.

"Yeah," Yue replied through slightly clenched teeth, focusing on pumping her legs. It actually felt pretty good; she hadn't gone for a hardcore run in a while, and her muscles were contracting and responding and moving quite pleasantly. She felt powerful.

"Well, they're gaining." Zila's face was shadowed but his voice was agitated as he added, "Quickly." She whipped her head back to check, her long hair forcing the hood off of her head and flowing loose in the wind. Indeed, the pair with burning, scarlet hair were moving almost in sync, their limbs a blur.

"Holy crap they're fast," she breathed in surprise, looking around again. They must have sped up now that they aren't in danger of hitting other people, she thought privately as she raised her voice and called to Hikaru, "It's no use, let's just – "

A heavy weight slammed into her back and she went down, hard, her hands splayed in front of her to catch herself. She couldn't roll, however, and her chin slammed into the pounded dirt with a jarring crack while her left shoulder jerked painfully as she landed. "Got you," someone sang in her ear, the voice low and teasing: Nina. Yue could hardly see straight, let alone think, the pain was dizzying, and she coughed and struggled to free herself as the Ninetales laughed quietly in her ear. Bu then someone shouted loudly, nearby, and the other girl's weight was gone and she could move again. She automatically got to her feet, years of training kicking in violently like a blow to the gut, shaking and feeling her shoulder and jaw: dislocated and potentially fractured, respectively.

Zila and Hikaru were busy fending off the guy, shit he's fast, and she gritted her teeth and got to business, bracing her hand on her shoulder and trying not to puke at the pain and unnatural position of the limb. Then, with a determined inhale of breath, she pulled hard on it, putting her shoulder into the correct position with an audible pop that was accompanied a shriek of pain. At least it worked, but she was breathless with the pain, and she barely had time to gather her wits when she had to raise her arms to block a mighty kick from her opponent. It jarred her freshly located shoulder and she couldn't suppress a tiny little whimper, though she masked it with a steely look.

"Aren't you tired of this already?" she wheezed wearily to her opponent, and it came out very high-pitched and failed to be intimidating; still, she went to business, grabbing the offending foot and expertly twisting it around despite the white-hot pain running up her shoulder. Instead of losing her balance, though, Nina merely went with the turn, slapping the ground with her hand and swinging her foot free while simultaneously attempting to whack Yue with an Iron Tail. The Arcanine ducked and dodged and they circled each other, Yue frowning and Nina grinning. "What do you want by attacking us?"

"Just imagine the reward we'd get for killing the Order of Kyurem's top assassin, Yue," the Ninetales responded. Her light blue eyes glowed violet and the Arcanine threw herself out of the way of a Psychic attack using Extreme Speed, countering by lunging forward and biting down with her jaws crackling with electricity. Nina bent her body elegantly, down and away, dodging the Thunder Fang with the grace of a fox. Then they were circling each other again, and the redhead's face was plastered with a smirk, her eyes shadowed as she repeated almost reverently, "Just imagine it, Yue."

Yue bared her teeth, countering Nina's Energy Ball by spinning her right arm in a circle and then releasing the Flame Wheel attack into the core of the green energy. It dissipated as the Arcanine snarled, "Just because you kill me doesn't mean anything! People can take my place." She swallowed, and then she finished with a growl, "I'm a pawn, just like you."

"I am no pawn, bitch," Nina snapped back with a jagged smile that was sharp enough to peel paint, and Yue twisted out of the way of a Will-O-Wisp attack with a quick two-step. "I'm needed," she crowed, insisted even, "My Order can't function without me. And my Speaker will be especially pleased to see you dead!"

"He doesn't give a single flying fuck about your well-being!" Yue retorted, exasperated, and at the same time feeling a small twinge of pity for the warped girl in front of her. Yue had accepted her fate as disposable years ago, and had held it close to her heart should she ever become overconfident, but Nina hadn't realized that yet. The Arcanine fired another quick Flame Wheel at the Ninetales, who countered it with a blast of flames from her mouth. "If you die he'll just get Blade or some other person to take your place!"

"And if I kill you, I will be rewarded, handsomely!" Nina shot back, gleefully, dancing out of the way of another of Yue's Flame Wheel attacks, her eyes glowing violet again.

Yue just managed to dodge with another Extreme Speed, and this time came close to her opponent. Her jaws clicked shut without making contact to flesh, though, her Crunch attack failing when the Ninetales slid out of the way, and she grimaced slightly at the pain it brought before retaliating. She'd had to get her jaw checked as soon as possible, provided she survived. "It still won't take away the fact you killed an innocent, Nina. A girl." The Ninetales' eyes narrowed, and she growled outright when Yue added in a stage-whisper, "She wasn't even fifteen."

"Shut up!" Her anger made her messy; Yue easily spun out of the way of the hasty Flamethrower, noting the patterns the flame produced, so unlike her own. "I have my ways," Nina huffed, meeting Yue's red-orange eyes with blue ones lit up with a frenzied, furious shimmer. "It was an accident, and the Speaker will understand my reasons!"

"He won't care! You're disposable!" Yue shouted back, and Nina's eyes narrowed, flashing violet once more. Yue dodged with Extreme Speed once more, barely,, and this time landed a Thunder Fang on the girl's shoulder. Nina shrieked and tore herself free, leaving Yue to spit flesh and blood out of her mouth.

The Ninetales looked absolutely murderous, hand automatically clutching itself over her bleeding shoulder, as she screeched, "I don't think you understand just how much I want to kill you!"

Nina's bloodlust, coming so suddenly and completely, overwhelmed Yue's senses, and she struggled to focus on the girl in front of her. If she wasn't mistaken, the girl's body was – glowing with – light. This was important, but the Arcanine couldn't remember why, and she gritted her teeth as Nina shouted, "You think you're so great, you bitch? Strutting around, because you've gotten so high and come from so – fucking – low, do you?"

"I don't – " The world didn't make sense, all of a sudden; the terrible feeling of inpending death from the Ninetales' desire to kill swamped Yue's senses. "What are you talking about – "

"You shouldn't even be alive!" she screeched, her voice painfully shrill in Yue's sensitive ears. Yue tried to get her mind to produce coherent thoughts but was continually distracted by Nina's screams, and her temper belatedly flared up in anger at the insult when the Ninetales hissed, "Maybe you are a pawn, but I am invaluable!"

The light surrounding the Ninetales became blinding, and now Zila was shouting at her to move, fucking move you idiot! before his scream was abruptly cut off from what sounded like a blow to the face – but Yue was frozen. She couldn't force her suddenly cold, heavy muscles to cooperate; instead she remained still, staring at Nina while she glared back at her with eyes are hard as ice, the blue visible in a sea of blinding light, wondering what the hell the Ninetales was talking about. And then she realized too late, She's going to use Solarbeam, oh shit, that's what it was, what do I – ?

"This is ridiculous," she heard from her left, as she slammed her eyelids shut and threw her arms over her face. And everything went white before fading to gray, then black, unearthly silence filling the air.

She remained still as a statue for a very long few moments, her brain flat-lining and refusing to provide any input on the situation. Then she realized she felt a distinct lack of pain; I guess I'm dead? she thought to herself, whimsically, feeling oddly light and giddy, and then, well, if I can think that means I should check if I'm alive.

She opened her eyes, blinking rapidly until the colors came into focus and became trees and branches; and then she looked down, and then confirmed to herself, out loud, "Yep, I'm alive." She had never been happier to hear her own voice.

Both Zila and Hikaru rushed over to her, Zila fretting about her in a high-pitched, panicky voice that hurt her ears, while Hikaru was staring into her eyes, moving a finger side-to-side in front of her face. To ensure I'm still functioning properly, she thought, and she gave him a nod to show him she was, her palms rising to cover her eras. He nodded in return and then snapped his fingers in front of Zila's face. It effectively shut the Zoroark up, for though Yue found his concern endearing, it was rather unnecessary and was more harmful than beneficial. And then the three jumped and whirled when the same voice Yue had heard earlier repeated, "This is ridiculous."

There was a younger boy standing there a few paces away, his light skin deathly pale, his blue-green robes rippling and fine blond hair stirring in a non-existent wind. His eyes were a delicate shade of pink, flat and empty and unnerving; his face was devoid of all expression except for the slightest frown. "We are near a city, you know," he said with the tone of an adult scolding a child, and his voice – it was like a young boy's voice before puberty, Yue supposed, and it sounded downright odd given the tone he was using. "There is no need for such loud noises and fighting."

"Shut up and don't get involved," Nina rasped from somewhere behind her, and once again the three spun around to see the boy, Blade her mind supplied, steadying the girl as she swayed slightly, his hands clamped firmly around her lean shoulders. She continued with a scowl, ignoring Blade's hiss of something Yue didn't quite catch, "I was just about to win before you used Light Screen, you motherfucker."

"You would have someone dead on a main road?" the boy retorted, a blond eyebrow arching upwards. His demeanor matched one of someone much, much older, and Yue realized too late that he was in fact a ghost – that explains the non-existent wind, at least. And hey, who said she would've died from a blow like that, presumptuous little shit. "That would be quite troublesome, I should think."

"Who are you?" Zila asked curiously, and Yue jabbed him sharply in the ribs with her elbow. He gave her an annoyed glance but dutifully fell silent at her sharp glare, one that said you do not randomly ask strangers for their names!

The ghost let out what resembled a chuckle, but it wasn't amused – far from it, in fact, it sounded more annoyed than anything, and Zila shifted from foot to foot as the ghost responded. "It is strange that people still do not recognize me. As it is, though, it is really none of your business." His face sobered into its original look: void of expression. "Now must I separate you to ensure peace, or will I have to do this the hard way?"

"Hard way?" Nina exploded, and the Scizor – Blade, Yue remembered – held her back with a hissed command. The Ninetales ignored him. "I'll show you hard way, you bastard!"

She somehow freed herself from Blade with a smooth, fluid motion, twisting elegantly like a Seviper, and charged despite the other boy's shouts, blue fire flaring up to coat her fingers. With some of a battle cry, a yowl of sorts, she flung herself at the ghost, hands outstretched, her lips pulled back into a snarl. Rhy didn't even flinch, instead murmuring something under his breath that the Arcanine didn't quite catch.

Yue didn't even see what happened next; all of a sudden Nina was flat on the ground, Blade was wrestling to keep her there, and the ghost was watching the spectacle with a delicately quirked eyebrow, his hands folded neatly in front of him, a yellow and blue shimmering wall fading in front of him. He had summoned a Light Screen and a Reflect at the same time; clever, and difficult to do, Yue thought to herself. It was apparent he found the whole thing slightly amusing.

"Would you think for a fucking second, Nina!" Blade was snapping, loud enough for all to hear. "I can't believe you don't recognize the Speaker of Mew when you fucking see him!"

What?

A chill ran up Yue's spine and she instinctively shifted towards the nearest source of warmth – in this case, Hikaru. He registered her closer proximity with a flicker of his eyes in her direction, before they focused on the ghost in front of them once again. Zila let out an annoyed hiss that sounded remotely like "what the hell", though she couldn't quite fathom why at the moment as the ghost murmured, "I appear to have been mistaken."

Blade didn't respond until he finally shoved his knee onto the back of Nina's neck, his other leg bracing himself on the ground as he quite literally sat on her back. She did not cease struggling and was yelling, though it was muffled by the ground, as the Scizor told the ghost, "You and I have met before – Rhyne, wasn't it? I am Blade."

"Ah," the ghost said, seemingly contemplating; then he nodded and said, "Yes, of course. The second-tier assassin for the Order of Arceus, was it not. One of Niko's – " The ghost, Rhyne, cut himself off and continued with, "Who is this?" He indicated who he spoke of by gesturing to the girl Blade was holding down.

"I'm Nina and you better fucking remember it!" the Ninetales yowled before Blade quite crudely slammed her head down into the earth by shifting his knee to rest on her scarlet hair.

"Charming," the ghost said, and Yue couldn't help it, she sniggered. That was the most perfect thing he could have said, she was sure.

"Quite," Blade agreed, shooting the Arcanine a glance, a wry smile on his face. She realized with a little surprise that, had they not been pitted against each other, they might actually be friends. "You'll have to forgive her. She gets a little, um, excitable when she's riled up."

"Mm." Rhyne floated over to Yue and her companions – well, he made the proper stepping motions with his feet, but the Arcanine could tell he wasn't actually walking. "I recognize you three, though you may correct me if I am mistaken." He nodded to Zila, then Yue, then Hikaru, while saying, "You were the forty-second test subject, you are the top assassin Yue Wang, and you are close second Hikaru Aomori, yes?"

"Um, yes," Yue said awkwardly, when the two males didn't seemed inclined to speak. "How do you – ?"

"Connections," the ghost responded, and then proceeded to walk right through her as if he didn't give a fuck, which he probably didn't. It was like someone dumped a tub of ice-cold water over her head; she began to shiver violently when he had gone past her, and leaned even closer to Hikaru for warmth even as her internal fire worked to warm her up again. "I trust you will control your companion, Blade."

"I'll try, I mean – "

Nina freed her head from his knee and shot a fully-powered Flamethrower at the ghost from her mouth, her blue eyes hard as ice with anger. There was a flash of blinding light, and the next thing Yue could see was Rhy wiping his hands and both Blade and Nina knocked out on the side of the street.

The ghost then turned, gave them a cold look, and then proceeded to float down the road, as if he hadn't just bested two of the best fighters in the region without batting an eye. They let him, eyes wide, unmoving, until he was a mere speck in the distance. Then:

"Holy shit," Zila said after a moment, summing up everyone's thoughts with only two words. And then, his sharp eyes distinguishing something in the shadows of the trees before everyone else: "Wait, who's that?"

Coming towards them, a small girl with flowing brown hair and blank green eyes; floating, a tight frown on her lips, hands hidden beneath a dark, navy-blue robe. Most prominently, blood soaking the lower half of her flowing blue robe, crusting black on the edges of the ripped fabric there.

Hikaru's notebook was suddenly in Yue's face, and she squeaked before she read out loud, quietly, "A Shuppet," before looking at the girl again. She looked vaguely familiar in some way, but her features kept fading in and out of view, as if Yue were looking through a lens and the light kept bending this way and that.

She kept a safe distance away, and even though her mouth didn't move, Yue – and the Zoroark and the ninja as well, given the slight jump from Hikaru and twitch from Zila – heard the words loud and clear.

Where am I? the ghost asked, her words soft and hesitant, and Yue's heart felt like breaking in half at the deep, profound sadness in her small voice.


Thoughts that weren't his own kept clamoring for his attention in his mind, buzzing around his head like flies – distracting and annoying, but too quick for him to chase them with a proverbial fly swatter. Nero idly considered stabbing himself in the chest with a knife to get him out of his misery; but then Vee settled herself besides him, her warmth emanating from her skin to his colder flesh, and he decided it wasn't worth it.

He concentrated further and finally felt the familiar sensation of Rein and Nightingale, goddamn they'd made it far, and it was harder considering Nightingale was a Dark-type but not impossible; still, he managed and connected his mind to them with the feeling of tying a knot, giving them a quiet Hello.

Nero, Rein thought back, while Nightingale greeted him with 'Sup. The last one he needed to connect with would be Rhy, and he did so far more rapidly due to the ghost's close proximity. As always, touching Rhy's mind could be equated with pressing one's hand flat on a cube of dry ice; Nero gave an involuntary shiver as he slithered in and greeted his leader with Rhy. The ghost gave him the equivalent of a nod in return.

Nero spent a few seconds to strengthen the connections he was currently maintaining – all the Flame Riders made that six – and once positive he could hold it, he gave them all the green light and the telepathic conference went underway.

I trust all is well on your parts was how Rhy began, his voice echoing emotionlessly in Nero's head – and everyone else's too, he knew. I encountered Assassins from both the Order of Kyurem and Arceus on my path but otherwise had no difficulties.

Xander, after waiting a bit to make sure no one else was going to speak, reported next. his voice light and velvety like the feathers lining his wings. I've arrived at the location, just outside of Hearthome. Now I'm waiting for Luco to get his lazy ass over here –

I'm working on it! Luco shot back. His voice sounded like crackling electricity, and the Gallade rolled his eyes slightly while Vee, sitting besides him, snorted, but listened quietly as the Pachirisu added, I'm almost at the west gates, and it will take me a few hours to go around the perimeter to the east. So be patient, would you?

Rein cut off Xander's retort by interjecting smoothly, her voice dark and low like the shadows she was so skilled in treading in, Nightingale and I are pushing north as instructed. There's snow and shit on the ground, though, and we don't have the right equipment, so we made a detour to whatever the fuck that small town around here is called to grab what we're missing.

Which means we'll be slightly delayed, Nightingale added helpfully, his voice icy cold and brittle, yet maintaining a sharp edge of humor. But we'll be pretty close to Snowpoint by the end of the day, I think. Nero sensed a feeling of unwillingness and foreboding from the Weavile that was quickly masked, and made a mental note to puzzle over it later.

Vee went last, as Nero could not report due to the amount of brainpower going in to maintain the conversation in the first place. At least she sounded pleasant, warm and soft in his head. Nero and I have recruited some new youngsters, and they're quite eager to learn. Other than that, James has been most helpful in supplying us with knowledge about the Order, and hopefully we'll get someone undercover in the Order of Kyurem as well.

With that Nero concluded the conference by saying in a strained voice, I can't do this much longer, so any last remarks, you have five seconds.

Don't fail, Luco said jokingly, and Nero sensed the amused feelings of the others. Even Vee gave a little chuckle at that, and Rein's thought came through as a adamant, of course we won't, who the fuck do you think we are?

I know. Silence, and Nero counted two, one, and then But really, don't, Luco added at the last moment, and then Nero sat back and released all the connections at once. He didn't realize he was panting until he wiped the sweat at his brow; the telepathic communication with all of the Flame Riders had taken a lot more out of him than he'd realized.

"You okay?" Vee asked, her eyebrows knitted in concern, and he nodded and closed his eyes, exhaling softly. They were in the conference room as before, except now the dark wooden chairs were all empty, save for the two he and Vee occupied. The table was of similar wood and reflected the light from the candles off the walls, while the windows captured the remaining light in the sky. He felt pleasantly tired and knew he would be sleeping like a log in the night.

They didn't say much after that, and eventually Vee sighed and murmured, "I'll go find the youngsters, I guess." She straightened up, floated over to the door, but then she did something unusual; she turned around and floated back, then proceeded to go behind him and drape her arms over his shoulders like she belonged when she really quite did not. He didn't jump, not exactly, but he struggled with himself not to freak out at the close proximity.

When he managed to keep from having some sort of hissy fit for a few minutes, and actually began to appreciate her warmth slightly, she smiled and murmured in his ear, warm air brushing against the curve of the cartilage, "Progress," and then her arms retracted and the door opened, then closed, and he was alone again.

Well, now he was completely thrown off his game, because what the hell was that. Girls. Honest to fuck he had no idea how they worked, and now he got a sense he never would.

To distract himself from those thoughts, he conveniently remembered something he'd been keeping in the back of his mind to bring up with a certain Rider. Now seemed to be as good a time as any, so he closed his eyes, opened his mind and traced the path through Sinnoh's land and located the one he was looking for in a matter of a few seconds: Xander.

The Swellow noticed his presence before the Gallade could say hello, a welcome change, and greeted him with Something you forgot to tell us?

Not really, Nero responded with the equivalent of a shrug, mentally of course. Just thought I would ask you something before you and Luco go gallivanting across the wide expanse of civilized area that is Hearthome City.

He got a surprised, then pleased, vibe from his fellow Rider. Whoa, man, were you always this snarky? Laughing telepathically was not exactly a sound, more like a feeling than anything, but the corner of Nero's lips curled upward when he sensed it. I like it. Sure, shoot, what's up?

It is –

Wait, don't tell me. Girl trouble? Now the laughing feeling was a snicker, and Nero's lips dropped into a sharp scowl. Leave it to Xander to get to touchy topics. Let me guess. It's about Vee, isn't it? Did she ask you on a date or somethin' –

No, he responded irritably, before Xander could finish that thought and Nero could get too wound up about it, not girl trouble, and even if it was I would ensure your long metaphorical beak stayed out of it. The snickering feeling remained, and Nero rolled his eyes, both physically and mentally, before saying, I have something more important to talk about it.

So serious! the bird Pokemon teased, and it was now that Nero remembered why he didn't consider the Swellow his friend: he was annoying as heck. How did anybody put up with him sometimes? What is it?

I will be blunt with you, Nero said, and before Xander could respond he asked, Are you perhaps questioning our leader's motives?

What? No! The response was too quick, albeit telepathic conversations were always faster considering the mind could move faster than the mouth. No, of course not. What gave you that idea?

I have absolutely no clue, Nero replied scathingly, managing as much sarcasm as he could muster – which to his surprise was quite a lot. Perhaps it is because of that episode you had, where you chose to curl up into a ball and hide yourself with your wings, effectively bringing meaning to the non-existent phrase of 'folding in on oneself', as well as proving it is possible for a nearly grown male to sulk. Whoa, that description got a little extravagant; Nero had no idea he had it in him, but then again, he almost never spoke out loud and the words had to go somewhere.

The Swellow sounds uncomfortable, his light voice sounded strained in his mind – if it was due to Nero's sudden long-windedness or the implications of the message, the Gallade did not know. Um, what would you know about that –

I'm a telepath, Xander, Nero said patiently, and winced physically when a flare of white-hot anger washed across his mind. It appeared he had angered the Swellow, and he realized he should perhaps have gone through with it with slightly more tact. Powerful telepaths read minds when they feel like reading minds.

You read my mind?! Nero gave the equivalent of a nod, and the anger burned even hotter. It didn't hurt, per se, but it certainly felt odd, flames flickering mind, threatening to spill over and burn everything. You – I would expect privacy in my own head, you know!

What, you thought I would not be curious? Nero held his contempt back from his thought-voice with the equivalent of a flick of his hand, so strong was his willpower. I did not do anything excessive – I merely found the cause of your uncertainty, and then I withdrew. Just a prod, if you will, nothing more.

That doesn't make it okay!

Perhaps not, Nero agreed, and then drove the point home by adding, makes you wonder if our purpose is to really help the region as a whole, does it not?

That's – Xander went silent for a few moments. Nero waited patiently, his eyes still closed, tapping a finger in time with the second on the shiny, mahogany table in front of him. Then the Swellow said with a small tone, like a child unsure if they're in trouble or not, okay, yeah, you got me.

Worry not, I have kept what I know from him, Nero responded, 'him' obviously being Rhy, and I do not plan on uttering any word you tell me anytime soon. You are free to speak as you wish.

How can I trust you? Nero supposed he had a point; the Gallade was aware that his personality telepathically was completely different than the one he usually sported. You're, like, Rhy's lapdog or something.

Excuse you, he retorted, and then thought to him in a calmer voice, We are comrades-in-arms, Xander. Do not think I would treat your trust as a petty plaything; it had to be earned, and I have done nothing to misplace your trust in me. Pause, to let that sink in. Then: What is it that is bothering you?

You aren't very convincing, you know, the Swellow grumbled. The Gallade waited patiently, the tapping of his fingers becoming a syncopated rhythm that required the use of both hands (lessons in perfection meant lessons in the art of musicality, of course). After perhaps ten seconds Xander relented and told Nero, hesitant, honestly, the way Rhy's going about doing whatever it is he does is completely roundabout and… how do I say this. Not exactly right, I guess? Moral?

Nero nodded in real time, frowned, and said, you must remember he is a ghost that has chosen to continue wandering the living world. After years of loneliness, to be handed the chance of a lifetime – to contribute to the region – you must imagine he would serve in the best way he can.

No matter the consequences? Ah, here was the crux of the problem; Xander sounded utterly annoyed and unsure and worried, tied into one large bouquet and dropped into Nero's lap like a belated birthday gift. Also, he had no idea where that metaphor came from or what it even meant. No matter who dies or is hurt?

I would say he aims for the most favorable outcome for the region as a whole, rather than focusing on individual locations, he responded, trimming and editing the words privately before passing them onto his fellow Rider. Sacrifices must be made for the good of the masses, you understand.

Yeah, I get that, but… Nero frowned, leaned back before remembering the chair was hard, stiff and uncomfortable; he straightened his spine, ramrod posture, and intently analyzed the Swellow's words as he said hesitantly, it doesn't… really make it right. Like I said before. It's still wrong, you know?

You must remember that in the end, the goal is achieved. It felt weird, preaching to a fellow Rider like this. Nero wondered when he had figured out what his leader did himself, and he got a strange twinge of petty annoyance; why did he have to explain this to Xander when he had to work to understand it all by his lonesome? And that is all that matters in the end – for Rhy.

I guess. But it's still not right.

"Nero, we need you." Vee's voice in the real world jolted him into reality, eyes snapping open with a violent quiver, but through sheer willpower he didn't sever the connection with Xander. He hated being interrupted but he could never stay mad at her, so instead he exhaled through his nose and let out a mumble that sounded something like "give me a minute."

All she said was "okay" and then she came over and leaned on the back of his chair, being very perfectly distracting as he closed his eyes again.

Apologies, Xander, but duty calls – our newest members require assistance of some sort.

Mm. The Swellow sighed – something he sensed rather than hear. But, Nero… are we – no, I mean, am I – doing the right thing?

Let me tell you something, Xander. It is a revelation that I came to upon struggling through similar confusion.

You, confused? Someone call the presses, we have secret evidence.

Well, at least some of his sense of humor had returned. Nero sighed, rubbed the bridge of his nose in annoyance, and thought to him, You don't have to be a good person in order to be a hero.

He cut off the connection before Xander could respond and slowly got to his feet; he could practically hear his joints creak like a old man's from sitting in the same place for so long. Vee caught him when he stumbled on his first step, though she quickly released him when he involuntarily flinched away. "C'mon," she says, her green eyes kind. "Silver and Pepper are waiting in the hall."

He nodded and followed her out, unable to keep the words from circulating in his head: you don't have to be a good person in order to be a hero.

Some days, like today, he wondered if that was true.


"Do you know why you are here, Shuet?"

The Pokemon across from Polen raised his eyebrow, unimpressed, and said nothing. Oriole hid a snicker behind her hand as Polen shifted on his desk; the Glalie had taken to actually sitting on the surface itself rather than the comfortable chair behind it, and it took his professional rating down a few notches. Add the fact he was sitting cross-legged, his long limbs sticking out beneath him awkwardly like stray straw in a bale of hay, and Oriole would rank him at a four out of ten - and that was being generous.

And then she remembered too late, by the way the Lucario was looking over Polen's shoulder rather than his face, that the Pokemon was blind. Indeed, his scarlet eyes were blank and obviously sightless.

"I really haven't the faintest idea," the Lucario said with the barest hint of a smirk on his thin lips, shoving his hands into the pocket of his – his peacoat, a dark black fabric that was made of a thin, shimmering material that was flattering and beautiful, yet most likely useless. "Enlighten me, Speaker, and don't forget to use your giant ego as a cushion when I swoon from the impossible task."

"Oh, don't fuck with me now, Shuet, this is serious business," Polen replied, good-naturedly, and Oriole gave him a sharp look; the Glalie prided himself on not swearing, ever, but something about this Pokemon made him loosen his tongue. Interesting. "You can still find your way to Veilstone no problem, am I right?"

"I'm blind, not useless," Shuet responded, his hands coming out of his pockets and his forefingers rising to his face. His index fingers traced the twin scars, starting at the top of his forehead, sliding down through his eyes and ending a small distance above the corners of his lips. Oriole's eyes were drawn to the dull silver spikes protruding from the back of his hands as he drawled, "Don't worry your pretty little head, Speaker. As a Lucario I have skills you would gladly trade your eyes for."

"Ah, yes, auras. One day I will ask you about that. But not now; as I've said already, this is serious business." Polen looked entirely focused, leaning forward on his legs, his ice-blue polo folding neatly against his slim body. "Do you like being at war over religion?"

"Does anyone?"

Good answer, Oriole thought as Polen grinned and shook his head, only to brush the brown locks to the side of his forehead a moment later. "True enough. Would you be willing to accept the most important job I can possibly give at the moment?"

"Depends on how much you're willing to pay." The blind Lucario crossed his arms over his chest and actually tapped a foot against the ground in impatience. Oriole watched as the black boot rose up and down, rhythmically; she didn't know anyone actually did that, because it was a useless maneuver that did nothing but hurt a person's ankle after a while. "Also depends if I think it's important enough to perform."

"Being the best means you can pick your charge, yes. Very well. Hold out your hand, if you please." Polen vaulted himself off the desk with the grace of a figure skater, and the Furret could see the traces of his swordsman days in the way he moved towards the Lucario.

"If it's slimy I will kick your ass into next week," Shuet warned, but obligingly held his hand out. Polen dropped the treaty a few inches out from the Lucario's hand – what an asshole, fucking with a blind guy, Oriole thought with distaste – but the other easily leaned forward slightly and effortlessly caught the treaty in his palm. "What's this scrap?" the Lucario asked, touching it with his free hand, running his fingertips over the parchment. He spat a muffled curse when he skimmed a finger over the edge and earns, no doubt, a papercut.

"That, my friend, is the deal that can stop this war, so long as it gains approval from the Speaker of Arceus." Polen sounded matter-of-fact, as if there was no possibility of it not gaining approval.

"So..." Shuet's face scrunched up in annoyance. "You're asking me to be the delivery boy."

"Perhaps, but the entire region's well-being rests on your shoulder." Polen flashed an ice-cold grin, though Shuet couldn't see it, and Oriole readjusted her positioning from her perch on his desk, watching the spectacle with interest. "Think you're up to it?"

"You're askin' me?" Sharp teeth bared in an equally stony smile, and the parchment literally disappears up his sleeve or something – Oriole didn't quite catch what happened. "Please, Speaker, you know who I am."

"There's no one better for the job," he agreed, and then he made a shooing motion with his hand. Oriole opened her mouth to point out the Lucario couldn't see, but then Shuet nodded and pivoted – and then went for the door and left, like any other seeing Pokemon could. He even closed the door softly behind him rather than slamming it, something the Furret approved of.

"How does he do that?" she asked after a pause, when Polen returned to the desk and stood besides it instead, having noting she had taken a portion of it for herself.

He gave her a look, pale blue eyes glimmering with amusement. "Do what?"

"Um. See? I guess?"

Polen did that strange laughing noise where he exhaled through his nose and chuckled at the same time – an exasperated sound, perhaps, an amused and annoyed one. "Auras. You know that."

"Well, yes, but most don't have that sort of mastery over it."

"When you lose one of the senses, I guess you manage. I don't know and I frankly don't give a fuck, so long as the job gets done." He suddenly looked exhausted and he sighed, dragging himself to the chair he loathed so and collapsing into it. He then covered his icy-pale eyes with a lean forearm and sighed once more, a shuddery sound. "Arceus, I'm so tired."

Oriole opened her mouth to ask why and thought better of it, shutting it. It had only been a few days since he was a simple swordsman in the Branch of Keldeo; now, he'd been thrust headfirst into a role that was too big for him to fill with only one supporter – her – and having to sort everything out quickly and efficiently. Needless to say, he hadn't been sleeping much, and there wasn't a discernible time in the future where'd he be able to.

"You need anything?" she asked hesitantly.

"Death can't come too quickly," he muttered under his breath, and then sat up and looked over at her. "I take that back, not what I meant. Just…" The bags under his eyes were heavy and black, and he rubbed his forehead as he said, "Juice. And something with sugar. I need energy right now."

She didn't say anything, instead sliding off the wood of his desk and padding to the door, tail flicking behind her. Her hand was on the knob when he said, "Thank you for everything, Oriole."

"I – " She stopped the words before they came out; sarcasm and snark wasn't what he needed right now. "Of course, Polen," she said instead, and then she opened and shut the door behind her before setting off for the first floor.


It was strange to think that someone like him could ever hate snow, despite his affinity for cold weather and all it encompassed. But right now, he would be happy to take a knife and stick it into the chest of whatever god was making it rain fluffy flakes of white ice. He did not want snow right now, he did not want cold, or ice, or wind, or blizzard warnings up ahead, he was sick of the cold, he did not want to be here. Fuck Rhy and Nero and their stupid plans, like seriously, just. Fuck them.

But in any case, as he and Rein had told Rhy, they had had to take a pit stop of sorts at the small town that was sort of out of the way but the closest to their destination – the sign read Celestic Town and was on one of the well-worn routes to the north, but he and Rein had had to backtrack some in order to get there and then, well, it'd been a little irritating, to say the least.

And while he loved the cold most of the time, he'd run his fingertips over his gray skin (minding the claws, of course) and quivered with something akin to a tremble before he slipped his new coat on, back in the little town. He really did not want to go any further north than he had to; there was always a chance he'd encounter his, uh, friends from the past or something, and that would be tricky to say the least. Plus he hadn't been in the cold his species were well attuned to in years. His blood wasn't as thick anymore, he supposed, and he stilled the chattering off his teeth with a determined clench of his jaw.

And as if things could get any worse, which they could, he could tell you firsthand, this – path they were taking. Bad memories to be had for all, uncork the beer bottles and revel in the depressing matter that was Nightingale's mind, god he hated this.

Yeah, he really wasn't looking to drudging on through snow and wind and ice and jarring cold, nope.

Rein, bless her, actually kept quiet about his hesitance, which was nice, considering how jumpy and unusually silent he was being. She even slowed her considerably speedy pace for him once they saw the first patches of white on the ground, which he was grateful for, because he legitimately recognized some of the trees around here as some he had passed back in his sl – working – slave days. It was disconcerting and he had to quell the urge to throw up his guts, because that would be totally uncool as well as a bother to do. Puking was pretty nasty.

He tugged his jacket tighter around him, shivered violently, and then sped up his pace so he caught up with the Mightyena in front of him. She registered his closer proximity with a nod and a murmured, "I hate snow," and he agreed with a short nod, moving his fingers constantly as his sides. Due to his claws he could not put them in his pockets, as he would tear the coat itself and that would be problematic. While they were useful in battle, they were pretty much pointless in every other aspect, and he wished he had retractable ones like that one Delcatty he'd met a few years back, the lucky bastard.

"How far north are we going?" he asked Rein, grimacing as they hit the area where snow covered the ground as far as the eye could see. At least he'd had the sense to buy boots, with his regular un-waterproof shoes hanging off on his shoulder. He hated wet socks. "All the way to Snowpoint, or to the Lake, or…?"

"Where else would we go besides Snowpoint?" Rein answered with a shrug. Her breath puffed white in the air, and there was a healthy tint to her cheeks. She looked like a blushing puffball, given the fluffy coat she was wearing, and upon reaching this revelation Nightingale had to resist the urge to snicker. He did so, barely, as she continued in a huff, "God fucking dammit, why couldn't he send someone fucking else besides me here? I'm gonna freeze my ass off and it'll be Rhy's fucking fault."

Man, she was pissed, given all the obscenities she was uttering. Nightingale made a mental note to recall that profanity equals higher stress level in his fellow Rider. "Could be worse," he said, and his teeth gave it the slightest echo of clattering. He frowned and said, stilling them, "Least you're not taking a jog up the memory lane."

She was silent at that, and he pointedly looked forward when she cast him a concerned glance, her eyebrows knitting together and her teeth nursing her lower lip. He could see why Luco was bent on her; she was pretty adorable with that face and her hourglass figure. Her personality was the selling point, Nightingale was sure, but given how shallow the Pachirisu could be when it came to women he'd probably never know if that were actually true or not.

"Is it bad?"

"Is what bad? Because I'd say all of this," here he gestured with his hand, sweeping his arm in an arc that indicated the entire area, "is pretty terrible."

"Not that, stop be purposefully obtuse, you annoying shit," but her scarlet eyes were glimmering with amusement so he knew she was kidding. "I meant what you said earlier. Memories."

"Oh." He looked down at the boots he was wearing, monstrosities that were brilliant white and, so far, doing their job. "Well. I mean, what do you think?"

"Life isn't always too pretty," she agreed, and then her hand settled on his shoulder and he looked up at her fingers, and then her face in surprise. Rein, as far as he knew, was one of the toughest people he'd ever had the pleasure of meeting; strange to think she could have a gentler side, much like Vee having a fighter side that most often kicked butt. "Cheer up, though, it could always be worse."

"I know that, but – "

She had a small grin on her face as she interrupted with "We could be in a blizzard."

He shuddered and reflexively hugged himself tightly – just the mere mention of the word was enough to set him on edge. "Don't jinx it, please," he said with a quirk of his lip, and Rein chuckled slightly besides him, her hand slipping back into her coat pocket. Yep, he could definitely see why Luco liked her so much. "I don't think I can deal with howling wind and snow right now."

"Conditions up here are always blizzards, though, right?" Her eyes are centered on the horizon, but now he noticed the darker clouds that were further up. They were walking straight to them, and he growled low in his throat as she muttered glumly, "Fucking great. Should've bought goggles or some shit."

"Could be worse," he countered, and she pouted at him, legitimately pouted like she was young enough to still do that. It was strange, he'd never actually hung out with Rein that much, but she was a pretty cool chick, which was a pleasant surprise. "We're lucky we actually thought to stop and buy coats and boots."

"Yeah, well," and she laughed, a pure, light sound that echoed in the clearing, and he felt smugly satisfied that he'd been the cause of it. Nightingale, one, Luco, zero. Then he laughed himself, wondering why a rivalry with Luco suddenly seemed to be pertinent to the situation - probably because the Pachirisu was an annoying asshole that somehow had made it into his good graces. "Not all of us are idiots."

"It was my idea," he snipped back, and she smiled back when she saw his grin. After a moment, though, her smile faded and so did his, and he asked her, concerned, "Something wrong?"

"Just, I don't know. I've never really talked to you like this, I guess." Her scarlet eyes were gleaming with something unreadable as she looked down at him, her being three inches over his 5'3''. "I've always been sort of… biased. Thought you were an asshole and all that."

"I am an asshole most of the time," he agreed, not even joking around. Rein sensed this and her frown deepened. He looked down at his feet again, appearing and disappearing in the snow that was getting continuously deeper (maybe they should have invested in snow shoes). "But Luco just wants to keep you to himself, you know? Not to branch out and meet other guys. Which was why he was upset about the pairings."

"One, ew, I am not his, that's just gross." Rein rolled her eyes, but then she looked confused. "What do you mean? Luco didn't seem upset about that. I was surprised, actually."

"You weren't there when he threatened bodily harm if I so much as let you get a paper cut," Nightingale responded, then snorted and shook his head. "Nah, Rein, Luco was pretty pissed about this whole thing. But anyway, yeah. He does this subtle manipulating thing where you subconsciously believe something and, like, don't know it or some shit." He added, a little unnecessarily, "He's a pro at it."

"Wait, so you mean he was manipulating my views of you?" Oh, she sounded absolutely pissed. Nightingale gave himself a pat on the back for a job well done getting the news to her; he was looking forward to the day Rein kicked Luco's ass. She looked surprised when he cast a glance up at her. "Whoa. He's… surprisingly devious. Bet he's fucking pleased with himself about it, too."

"He acts like an idiot but he really isn't, if it's any help," Nightingale supplied, and then shrugged and looked forward again. Then he blinked, squinted; either he was just imagining a figure there or someone was coming towards them in the snow. "He's a good guy but things get away from him sometimes." But by 'sometimes' he of course meant never; the Pachirisu wasn't the Speaker of Celebi for no reason.

He quickly changed the subject by saying, "Is that a person over there?"

"Where?" But he could tell she'd already seen it, and her scarlet eyes narrowed in an attempt to bring it into focus. There was definitely a figure approaching them, light-colored against a white foreground. She pursed her lips and continued to stare, muttering, "What the hell is he doing?"

"Who knows? Maybe he's friendly and'll talk to us," Nightingale said with a shrug, then raised a hand and waved, shouting, "Yo!"

"You are an idiot," Rein told him, her tone somehow flat yet amused, but she didn't do anything to stop him so he figured it was okay, even as the figure raised a hand in salute as well. They continued walking towards each other, the other Pokemon's features coming into focus as it – he neared. Blond hair dusted his forehead and neck in a stylish 'do, and he smiled slightly when he neared, the skin at the corner of his green eyes crinkling slightly. He was tall and slender like a willow tree, looking as if he would sway in the wind.

"Hello," he said, his voice smooth and flowing like a river, a pleasantly low tenor. He was wearing the most unusual clothing Nightingale had ever seen; rather than be practical like the Weavile was, with form-fitting black clothes and a flexible jacket that could move with his fighting skills, the Pokemon across from them wore an absurdly decorated jacket, blue and white, with two slim tails flowing out behind him. Currently it was zipped up (the zippers were made of silver. Nightingale gawped inwardly) but the hood was not tucked over his head as of yet. The lucky bastard had a hat.

"Hi," Rein said, her voice just as smooth and her face expressionless. Nightingale had adopted such a look as his poker face years ago, and it came as naturally as breathing. "You don't seem dressed for the elements."

A faint smile again, glassy green eyes glittering with amusement, and the man's shoulders rose in the most elegant shrug the Weavile had ever witnessed. "Nor do you."

"Touché," Nightingale agreed with a grin of his own. He stuck out his hand. "Nightingale, watch for the claws," he warned when the other reached out his own hand. His hands were clad in the most curious gloves, a smooth black fabric that was silky to the touch and covered in strange red glyphs on the backs.

"Zetsurin Hogaraka, though most choose to call me Jin," the stranger responded, and then offered his hand to Rein.

"Rein," she said, shaking it once before releasing it. "And not to be rude, but you really don't have the right equipment for the blizzards, Jin."

She nodded to his blue boots, which, upon further inspection by Nightingale, were steel-toed. That would be most impractical in the snow, he knew, and as he watched Jin laughed quietly and his hand rose to finger the black collar peeking from under his strange jacket.

"True, and while I would gladly find more suitable articles, I am afraid I find myself without direction." He shook his head, slipped his hands into the pockets of his coat (lined with silver), smiled faintly again. "I don't suppose you know the way to the nearest town?"

"You're lost?" Nightingale cracked a grin and couldn't help laughing a little bit. Rein sent him a sharp look, but he ignored her and told the stranger, "I'm sorry, it's just, you're eloquent and obviously very intelligent, and yet you're lost!" He paused abruptly and said earnestly, "I really don't mean to offend."

"It's fine. No one can be perfect in all areas, unfortunately," Jin agreed, and for the first time Nightingale noticed a convulsive shiver run through his body. It was cleverly hidden as he shifted, but the guy was wearing what looked to be black dress pants; he was most likely freezing in that outfit. "But I will take your response as a yes."

"You wanna tag along?" Rein said, raising an eyebrow, and when Jin nodded she sighed and said, "Well, I hope you can walk fast, then, because we don't have extra food on us and we only have enough to last us the day."

"You plan on reaching the nearest town within a day." Not phrased a question, yet obviously one, given the incredulous on the handsome Pokemon's face.

"Of course," Nightingale asserted, watching the stranger with an amused eye as the other shifted again. "We travel quickly. Think you can keep up?"

The Pokemon sighed, dusted blond hair from his fair face, and straightened his posture, towering over Rein by a good five inches or so, and nodded. "Lead the way," he said.

Rein and Nightingale exchanged glances out of the corners of their eyes, then looked over and nodded. Without another word the trio began to walk again, heading north, where both a blizzard and the nearest town awaited them.


Okay, so, if I don't get any more OCs from outside sources I will be tentatively accepting another OC from those who'd like to submit two. Or, for those who don't read big chunks of text:

You can send it another OC! Two is the limit!

Onto credits, hopefully I haven't forgotten anyone (sorry Pepper, Silver, no screen time this chappie!):

Blade belongs to - aw, I don't remember anyone's fucking usernames, give me a sec - Flash3.

Nina the crazy Ninetales is from KCNederland. (I took some liberties with her personality; hope you don't mind.)

Jeckyel is from my invaluable supporter pokefan113, though I had to coax him into submitting. Thanks for putting up with my occasional... huh, I don't even know what to call them. Thanks, though, man, your hilarious wit always brightens my day.

Jayden is the second OC from my buddy xXViridianPhoenixXx. I HAVEN'T FORGOTTEN ABOUT aGfG!

Yue hails from the enchanted land of xiLovePandas.

Hikaru the ninja who does everything like a boss is from Nightfall00.

Zila who didn't get a lot of characterization this chapter, apologies friend, came from TheGlaceonFanatic. Please consider reading their OC story, which has some elements of my own it in! :)

Rhy is from stelladog009. She's a friend in real life and I may or may not have messed up her username on purpose.

The mysterious ghost girl belongs to someone who is an invaluable supporter and is so nice and cute and she's so kind that I could cry. Don't spoil it for the others, now; you know who you are! ;)

Nero belongs to BladeOfTheEclipse, and his personality is a little off in this chapter but it's, like, a headcanon of mine, I suppose? I don't really know, but I had fun with it and I hope you did too. And by the way, I won't pair him with Vee unless you're okay with it! So give me a review or PM or something.

Vee is mine. She's my baby. She's so precious.

Xander belongs to AtmosBreak. He is the best joker. He is the best joker, and I just said that twice because he reminds me of Sokka like seriously, that's who I affiliated him with in this chapter.

Luco is from AshKetchumDarkSide. He didn't get a lot of attention this chapter, sorry!

Polen is mine. Poor guy, he's run himself so ragged he can't even dial up the snark.

Oriole is from SnowKiter, and I'm sorry to admit that I have way more fun writing her than I should. Except she acts much stupider than she actually is in this chappie - sorry about that.

Shuet is from LiteShadoeXIII, and this guy is possibly the most fun I've had. Snark and that sort of thing are, like, ambrosia and nectar for me as a writer. I just. Had. So much fun. I can't even explain it. I just did.

Rein is from Silverdragon98. Badass swearing chick equals happy author.

Nightingale is from SparkLuxLucios. Badass not-swearing-as-often guy equals happy author.

Zetsurin or Jin is the second OC from BladeOfTheEclipse, and he will get more characterization next chapter. Stay tuned!


OCs will be accepted for the entirety of this story. See the form on my profile and send by PM only.