Another arc that, if I really cared about making a concise story, would probably get cut out from the final product. Part of me wants to try and make this work out in the long run though; I have an idea of how I'd like it to play out but that feels like it would end up being its own separate story or even something that would be written about in Interludes.
Originally this scene was meant to take place at a later point in time, shortly after the future chapter [Nursemaid]. but as I reworked things the original plan didn't allow things to work out.
At least twice a month, once a week conditions permitting, Alex's team would push themselves to the limits in various ways, their training for that day ending in a one against one match to sharpen various skills. It was perhaps the most chaotic experience he'd even been privy to, which made his task all the more challenging.
Leave personal instruction to the rest of the week. Days like these- these were theirs. The combinations they'd learned over the years, the patterns, maneuvers, all of it; every single usable step in the dance called Combat was brought to bear. At times it was clear who was the Leader and who was the Follower. Other times, that role changed every second.
To recover from a misstep that nearly laid you low meant rolling with the strikes- fighting through the spasms of pain and wrest control back into your hands before you could do nothing more than react, bobbing like a ship adrift at sea. Alex turned his eyes from the battle between Celèste and Caitlyn to that of Deus and Umbral, silently rooting for the former.
Lightning crackled out from Deus' hands, connecting tendrils exploding ghostly matrices of Umbral's clones in dazzling displays of energies. Not a moment later, more clones appeared, the missing pieces in the Ghost's aria- still able to be heard over the similar screams of energy echoing from around the field- smoothly reappearing as if the diminuendo was planned. The reuniclus' path to victory was already known of course: expel ghostly energy in spherical patterns, making the explosions jagged enough to disrupt her concentration. Once the true Ghost was located, box her in with Light Screens and a web of Thunder Wave before going in for the kill.
That wasn't the goal here though.
No, training with Umbral was always meant to be an exercise in spatial awareness. To keep track of upwards of seven shifting sources of fire and attempt to figure out what each marble of energy dancing around them truly held- or would become- before it was too late.
For Deus, it was a test of making his elemental blasts as widespread as possible, yet still precise enough to lance through the protective shells and destabilize what lay within. To see how close Umbral could push his ability before either of them stumbled. Some days, it was she who fell to the ground; Spirit taxed beyond even the effort it took to rise. Other days it was him; Mind frayed from managing so many variables- projected counters turned assaults, panels of opaque wavelengths preventing projectiles from coming through or splitting said attacks asunder.
Yes, of all those who primarily focused on ranged attacks, Umbral was the most taxing. So similar to Caitlyn, whose pinpricks of dagger sized attacks would map out your defenses, yet it was the finale that sealed your fate. But it was not elemental attacks piercing through defenses like cannonballs through wood like the rest of her ranged companions, instead it was the slow drain on your life- every step, every breath, becoming harder and harder until the grasp of Hypnosis claimed hold and blessed sleep welcomed you.
"Remind Deus to utilize Heal Bell," he muttered to himself, scribbling a similar, shorthanded line onto the margins of his notes.
/ - /
"Umbral, check the house for me, will you?" Alex flicked on the lights for the living room, allowing him the ability to watch Umbral float off towards the stairwell and into the upper floors. While the building probably wasn't one of GO's properties, he still couldn't help but wonder whether this was a rental or on loan. The furnishings were definitely high class enough to belong in Palm hills, but it lacked the homely feel of a place that was lived in, feeling more like an impersonal inn. "Tuesday said it'd be in one of the backrooms?" He tapped through his X-gear as he started walking through the house, fighting back the unease of the artificiality of everything.
At the very back of the house, tucked in a small nook past the kitchen, a small room held the desk he'd been looking for. On the desk a fake plant sat in a brown, terracotta pot, looking for all the world at peace with being next to a dual monitor setup. Another desk lay pushed against the wall to the side, sizable enough for the kind of mass writing that researchers and others involved with large amounts of notes might get up to.
On bootup, he was greeted with the familiar screen of Project GO's login: a starry early night sky as the background, and above the boxes for credentials was a blocky yellow G bordered by bubbled blue, and beside it was a standard pokéball, the negative space formed by the white button in the center and the thin black outline encircling the image functioning as an 'O'.
As his information began loading, Alex removed his X-gear from his wrist, taking out the various tools he needed to perform maintenance on it as well as adjust anything he might need for his current project. Once all relevant files were uploaded, he sent a quick message towards Tuesday via GO's messaging system, taking a few minutes to read through some of the group chats he was (unwillingly) a part of.
In one of the inter-team channels, there was talk of a new litter of furfrou that had just hatched in a local nursery. More than a few Instinct trainers had been dying to pick one up, and supporting a local breeder was always more desirable than using one of the larger chains or even an international one. In another, the more competitive trainers were discussing training methods on how to improve beam projectiles; how to modify power outputs, changing the size of the beam itself, and how to make it so that as one legal move, it could come out as multiple sections. For that, Alex shared a few files and recordings related to the subject, as well as some of his own personal notes and videos of his pokémon replicating said actions. The messages of gratitude for 'Konductaur' went ignored as usual, as well as the attempts for him to reveal himself.
Eventually, a notification for a video call from Tuesday came up. "You're facing the wrong way, Tuesday," he said, adjusting his own camera. He chuckled as she let out a short, child friendly curse, the woman turning around to face him properly. "I'm in Palm Hills, by the way."
Messy brown hair tied up in a loose bun that barely met lab standards, a standard issue baby blue Mystic coat wrinkled and covered in coffee stains, all completed with a pair of baggy eyes; once again, Tuesday had spent an all nighter on something. "Palm Hills, got it." She swivelled back around to her central monitor to pull up the relevant information. A little mutedly, "Sorry, you caught me going through some data Instinct sent me the other day. A few of them just got back from Johto helping out with a litter of eevee and they wanted me to make sure nothing on the papers looked out of place. Typical Instinct," she muttered. "Fantastic at working by ear, but the moment you throw numerical data at them instead of tactile they're completely at a loss."
He smiled and let her continue her rant for a few minutes, waiting until she had fully gotten into a spiel about the last joint project they had before interrupting. "So about the current project?" He asked wryly.
"Current project?" She shook her head, sending a few locks of hair loose. "Right, Palm Hills. Wattson! Can you tag along and make sure that muscle head does everything right?"
He winced at the sudden shout, tracking a yellow dot travel along strips of LEDs on the walls. One of the few clean things in Tuesday's laboratory that she dusted regularly, she had taken great pride in setting it up. It served absolutely no purpose, as by the time the light arrived from one station to the next Wattson would have already been halfway done with the requested task, but it never failed to amuse Tuesday and others, himself included.
"You have Wattson's storage ready?"
"Installed it before you made the call." Alex double checked the connection going from his X-gear into the tower. While Wattson would have stopped the transfer if it was improper, it felt weird not doing something to help. He glanced up as a happy trill came from behind, Umbral lazily tumbling end over end until she landed on his head. A familiar and admittedly comforting chill immediately washed over his body. When she'd first done this, Celèste (and later Caitlyn) had a panic attack at the change in his life force. Being so close to a Ghost like this, especially in contact with the unsealed, intangible part, was the equivalent of constantly sucking on a straw. She'd refined how much she was able to siphon at any given time though, and much like his two sensors, had become attuned to his specific frequency and knew when to stop.
"Hey, cutie! How are you doing?" It had come as a surprise to him when he'd discovered that Tuesday was a Ghost specialist. Electric was a close second for her, as well as Steel, but the majority of her team comprised of Ghost types. She said it was because her primary studies were chipping away at what made a Ghost's psychokinetic abilities so different from a Psychic's. There was so much overlap that a concrete definition hadn't been really established other than typing match-up.
Umbral trilled excitedly, moving in front of his face without any regard for his opinion on the matter. He had no clue on what story the misdreavus was retelling, but it had Tuesday completely enraptured. "You two have fun. I'm gonna make sure all the equipment's prepared."
"There should be an extra data pad in the garage," Tuesday said off-handedly. "I'll have Wattson put the files in Local Access so you can check everything. Sorry, Umbral. Had to make sure the little one had toys to keep himself busy. You were saying?"
"I heard that!" he shouted back, shaking his head at the injustice. Upon entering the garage, Alex immediately reevaluated his opinion on this place being a rental. Everything was a blinding white, with only red and blue diodes, grey tarps covering various things, and black screens breaking up the monotony. It was so very much a clinical lab, devoid of personalization. Over on one of the center tables, pushed up against the wall, an odd device rested on a stand.
In the shape of a slender hexagon and made of an off grey material, the object had a prominent line down the middle. "Kalos tech, huh?" Alex pulled the two sides apart, revealing a holographic screen that was unique to Kalosian design. "Wonder which businessman provided this." Once again entering his credentials, Alex was greeted by the familiar avatar of Wattson. The Porygon-Z gave a little dance of happiness, flitting about the screen and opening up various windows.
In short order, Alex had a list of all of the items he'd need. In the lockers covered by the tarps were several relays that he'd need to bring out to sea as well as the weights necessary to keep them in place; were it not for his three psychics (and Celèste), this would require the use of a crane of some sort to transfer them.
In one of the lockers, a diving suit along with some of the basic equipment he'd need to go underwater; Wattson had already put in a request for the things he was missing at the local stores. In yet another, some beach wear was hanging. In one of the pockets of the shorts, a note attached to a string was hidden.
Thought you could use a present for all your hard work. Lugia knows I haven't thanked you or anything. Do me a favor though? If there's any battlers in public spaces, show them the strength of Valor, alright? -Candela
Alex stared at the outfit. Sea green with lightish red, barely pink clouds scattered across the short sleeve button up and deep, fire red pants hemmed with yellow, the clothes were technically his color, but the fact that Candela knew his sizes- enough for the clothing to basically be fitted- was rather concerning.
A questioning coo made him look up from the clothes, still in the middle of testing them out. "What do you think?" He asked Umbral.
The misdreavus flew around him a few times, canting her head from side to side in a 'so-so' manner. Response given, she flew directly at his head, delegating her corporeal form to only that of her necklace and rested securely around his neck.
The first time Tuesday had seen this, she had Freaked Out. Capital letters required. In most cases, doing such a thing was the same as letting one of the honedge line wrap their tassel around your arm to keep them from flying away. Did it work? Yes. Was it incredibly stupid? Also yes. Without perfect trust and training between you and a ghost type, letting them be so close to you and in such a manner was the same as offering your belly to a predator. As she continued her newest rant about the topic, set off by how unconcerned he was about it, Alex could only sigh. "Tuesday, if that's everything, I'm going to be signing off."
She pouted, annoyed at being cut off. "Just please tell me you don't let any pokémon do this."
"Tuesday, I've known Umbral for over 15 years now. Sure, she still takes great pleasure in giving me heart attacks when I get too deep into my work, but she knows where to draw the line. Plus, if the loss of a free meal didn't dissuade her, then the knowledge that the rest of my team would turn on her would."
/ - /
"Kind of regretting letting Morgan do his own thing today," Alex grumbled. Sitting at the helm, Celèste stared out at sea, busying herself with watching the boats race around buoys. Down in the cargo section, his three psychics waited for him to jump in. "Caitlyn, stay linked with me while I'm under. This isn't a rush job so we can take our time." It was only when she cooed out her acknowledgement that he fell over backwards.
For a moment fear gripped hold of him. Bubbles surging all around him. Endless blue fading into black. This far out, they were in that odd zone where pokémon and sea creatures alike weren't as packed. Closer to the beach and they'd see more. Farther out and those capable of dealing with the strength of the ocean could be found. But here?
It took a combination of placating nudges from Caitlyn and locating the underside of the boat before he was calm enough to continue. With a few kicks he was back up at the surface, a sea scooter psychokinetically held out for him to grab. With an 'okay' sign, he dove back under. A moment later, two bags containing the sensors and weights dropped under, both secured to his belt. Only then did he begin the descent to the sea floor. Rare didn't mean never though. Feeling lucky that his scooter made enough noise to dissuade anyone interested in the oddity swimming in their waters, Alex flicked on the light. When he made it down to the floor, the scooter too, was attached to his belt by way of rope.
For the next two hours, Alex lost himself in the motions. When one set of sensors and weights were emptied, he'd slowly return back to the surface for the next load. Once the final bag was deployed, Alex rejoined his team on the boat, breaking for a light meal back at the pier while they gathered the chain and transmission buoy from the truck. In most cases, a project like this would have used a proper crew and ship to deploy everything, but because his team was capable of handling it all on their own the cost of time was deemed worth the reduction in expenses. The joys of being salaried rather than hourly.
When at last everything was set up and Wattson had deemed it good to go, Alex removed his suit and simply laid on the floor of the boat. The tank for the boat still had fuel, and Celèste was taking great joy in piloting it around, Caitlyn as her crewmate. After around half an hour, they pulled back into the dock. Another hour, and Alex sat alone at the house, back in his regular clothes. Fifteen minutes later, Celèste and Cayla came back from shopping, a satisfied looking Morgan in tow.
/ - /
Alex swirled his glass around, basking in the chill of the night air. Between his meal and the warmth of the wine in his stomach, the urge to fall asleep at the table was hard to deny. Behind him, in the rock garden, a row of gas fueled flames danced, the audible flickers of fire filling his mind. Across from him at their own table, Caitlyn and Celèste quietly played a game of go, pieces clicking softly against the board with each move.
Originally they were to cook something at the GO house, but when he'd opened a window for some fresh air the smell of brine made him long for the night sky rather than a roof. Wattson, the wonderful thing he was, had happily placed a reservation for him and his team at a pokémon friendly restaurant before returning to Tuesday. As with most places in Palm Hills, it was rather high end and just a little too fancy for his tastes, but the meal- cooked with locally sourced supplies- and setting was well worth it; just the right mix of minimalistic and modern design. By the time he was on his second glass, his companions also on their second game, his phone started vibrating. "Good evening," he calmly responded without checking the number.
"Alex, what have I told you about using that card?" A careful mix of lecturing and questioning, it was only by years of experience that Alex knew she wasn't angry.
"To call so they know it's me and not a fraud," he answered, taking another sip of the Kalosian wine.
"Mhm. And so how come when I got back from the office I had to spend my entire dinner on the phone with reps and cross referencing your spending and travel to make sure it was actually you?"
Alex smirked. "Because I know how much you love keeping tabs on me." Even without seeing June's face, he knew she was deliberating whether to play along or reprimand him.
A single, almost hurt sniff was his response. "How's Palm Hills?"
"Nice. Quaint. A bit more homely than Alto Mare was."
"I see you left a small donation for a museum there."
"They helped me figure out a timeline of some refugees from the Great Kalosian War."
"Oh? And how soon will those findings be published?"
"I forwarded the information to some people I trust. Maybe in about ten months or so? Ancient migration's basically a side project for most people these days, but it's still helpful in mapping out that sort of thing."
"Thousand pid that Professor Sycamore is involved with that."
Alex licked his lips, savoring the bittersweet bite of the wine. "...maybe."
June laughed. A short and loud bark of amusement, restrained at the end with a practiced ease that hinted she found far too much glee in it. "Involves your little project then, does it?"
"I'm not in an area where I can talk about that," he recited.
Another chuckle. "Oh, I know. Hey, enjoy this bottle, on me, okay? It's of Galarian make. Thought you'd enjoy a little taste of the future."
"I'll be sure to send you my thoughts on it." Alex smiled, moving to rest his free arm on the backrest.
"You better. I'm expected to deal with some delegates soon." For a few minutes, Alex listened to the sound of June working. For the most part a ballpoint pen would glide along the surface of yellow legal paper, its larger surface preferred over the quality of life that letter size offered. Every so often though, June would return back to her laptop and tap away at the keys, clicking through windows and tabs before moving back to her stationary. "How's work with Caitlyn going?"
"We're getting there. We both know what needs to be done, but the issue lies in hammering out the details. It's not something that can be rushed though, so we're having to take careful steps to ensure everything's done properly."
"Referencing previous efforts isn't helping?"
"What happened there was an accident, total happenstance that went right. Trying to do it again without a blueprint or a guide is difficult. We're basically trying to reverse engineer this thing since the last people involved with it operated in a different system."
"I hope you guys get it down soon. Both as an achievement and because you might need it later on."
Alex sat up at that. Before he could speak a word though, June continued.
"Certain stories have been surfacing around the world lately. It's gotten to the point that the IPA's having to make public statements that are a little too close to the truth than they'd like. In a year and a half's time, there's going to be another World Tournament at the Silver Conference."
Alex thanked the waitress for the bottle and fresh glass, swapping his partially drunken one for it. "I'm assuming at the end of this year they're going to be having a tech demo?"
Of the regions that were part of the International Pokémon Association, all of them held their circuits around the same time. There were some variations between deadlines for broadcasting purposes, but the six regions all ended within the same two month period- even including any potential Champion matches.
"Every region's Champion is going to have an exhibition battle against either a Gym Leader or one of their Elite Four; a full showcase of their power, and then the Champion will have their Chosen pull off triple back to back, with the last one being their opponent's Chosen."
"Why do you make me feel as if I'm expected to participate in this? They know I'm swamped with projects, right?" A sparkling white. The drink would probably have been better if he still had food to pair it with. A moment after he thought that, two small cheese plates were brought over, one placed beside Celèste and Cayla's game board. He gave another thank you to the waitress, gesturing for his pokémon to pick at their plate.
"Less expected, more suspect. Unova knows of your abilities, and even if they have both Hilda and Iris to champion their cause, I wouldn't be surprised if they sent you a messenger to get you to enter."
"They're welcome to try," he grunted.
"I still wish you didn't take that job," she said after a moment.
"If I took your offer to join your department we wouldn't be able to work together- at all."
"I know, but I'd rather have you away from those bastards than even in the same neighborhood as them."
"Careful, love, those are some of my co-workers you're insulting."
"And they're as lovely as ever, Alex. It's your superiors that I hate." A higher pitched warning cry drolled out in the background.
"Tell Sköll I love her very much, and that if you're not appreciative of her, then at least I am." Another- almost singing- trill faintly made its way through the phone.
June chuckled. "She says thank you very much, and that she can't wait to see you again." A few moments passed in comfortable silence, the sound of the surf occasionally heard between the soft music and dancing flames. "What did you think of the outfit I sent you?"
"Outfit you sent-" Alex stared at the latticed roof, suddenly connecting the dots. "Please tell me you got lucky and found it and didn't custom order it."
"I got lucky and found it and didn't custom order it."
Alex took another sip, gently swishing it around his mouth before swallowing it. "And what did they say?"
"They teased me and asked for a reference photo so they could make an outfit for myself."
"And did you give them one?"
"I did. A lovely sheer black sarong and a two piece aura blue bikini with brown ties. I would've had them use brown as the more dominant color, but there wasn't a way to get it complimenting my complexion. I'm sure you understand."
"You can't see it, but I'm raising my glass."
"You don't see it, but I'm tapping my coffee against yours."
Alex chuckled. "A long night then? Or is this second morning?"
"Second morning. I'm off tomorrow though, so it's not that big an issue. Sköll's making sure I'm napping if my heart starts beating too hard."
"Have I mentioned how funny it is that your starter has a nurse's degree?"
"No more funnier than you buying clothes for Celèste and Caitlyn."
"Touché." Celèste glanced over at him. Their plate was almost finished and by the looks of things, Celèste was close to winning. "Going to have to go soon. The dynamic duo's just about done with things."
"You guys have a good evening then, alright? And don't forget about the wine!"
"I won't, I won't. Take care, June."