There really is something special to me about these continuous scenes. I guess it's just a point of pride because to me it's evidence that I can navigate from point A to point B without having to resort to a full scene break.
I'm not sure if I've mentioned it before, but the future yet-to-be-written Hilda storyline is something I'm really looking forward to, if/when I get around around to it. The whole plan I have for her and the way(s) I can go about resolving the conflicts in that arc just scratches all the wonderful things I love about writing. Truthfully, if I wanted to, I probably could have taken that storyline and made it its own piece, rather than sticking to my current plan of having it linked to the greater ULS story as a whole.
Alex considered himself lucky that Artemis was still so young. Old enough that the spinarak could technically survive on its own, but young enough that he wasn't quite 'locked in' in terms of growth. There was also the fact that with three psychics, teleporting to a Center a few days ahead was an easy enough task.
While most of Artemis' training revolved around rapid development of his silk abilities, the few hours of intensive physical training was enough to trigger his innate biology causing him to molt on a weekly basis. It was only because of a reminder from the shopkeeper back in Azalea that he'd slowed down Artemis' regimen, making sure to split up one day's training across two so that Artemis had a chance to rest. Trembling out of one's skeleton was an extremely intensive process, after all.
Still, it was surprising how eager the spinarak was. Ever since he figured out how to break up his webbing, he'd gone into the practice with a vigor he hadn't expected for months. Sure, only a single timed shot could unfurl into a proper web, but to be able to fire out five messy globs, with two of them approaching levels of usability? He wasn't sure whether Artemis' progenitors were masters of their specialties or if Artemis simply had that much potential.
A mass of webbing shot through the air, courtesy of the subject of his musings. Slightly over halfway to its target, the strands of silk unfurled into the restrictive form of a tangle web. Morgan mewled in faux pity, dramatically moving to break free. With each twitch of his muscles, the off-shoots of the webbing quietly snapped, pulling his forelimbs closer to his head until he could no longer move them.
If he were to Release Artemis now, he had no doubts the spider would survive for a long time. With the utilization of his silk alone along with the trap making lessons he'd given throughout the handful of treks Artemis was able to accompany him on, prey of all kinds would be easily secured. Orb webs for general prey, tangled for bigger, unsuspecting catches, and sheet webs for the rare, faster moving catch.
Scattered globules of poison streaked out towards Morgan, the vast majority splashing harmlessly against the ground or overhead. The few that did manage to connect made him roll his eyes in amusement. Without another word, Morgan morphed into his aqueous state, harmlessly sliding over the puddles of underdeveloped toxins. He reformed as he neared Artemis, his body slightly translucent in a few areas. Giving a few words of advice, Morgan once again displayed how a proper Poison Sting should come out.
The first example was of what Artemis should currently be striving to achieve: a wide stream of bubbles shot out from Morgan's mouth, each no bigger than one of his paws. The second was a more refined version. The spray became more narrow, and the gaps between each projectile were almost non-existent. Artemis wouldn't be able to perform a truly useful version for a few more weeks at most, but even a short burst of the high powered variant could be deadly.
Alex let the exercise go on for another half hour, long enough for Artemis to start flagging, before he called for an end. "Good work, Artemis. We'll work on your physical abilities tomorrow, and if you don't end up molting we can return to projectiles."
Artemis chittered quietly in acknowledgement, sluggishly reaching out and entering his ball.
To Morgan, "Good to see you can still control bubbles that well. Now that the kids are getting stronger, we'll start playing around with ranged attacks. Get your Bubble and Swift combinations back to par before heading back to the center." The vaporeon chirped happily, lazily flicking his tail and sending a haphazard combination of the projectiles downrange.
As he made his way back to the Center, Alex did his best to avoid the attention of the kids. While vaguely travelling along with the film crew meant they interacted with each other on a daily basis, he preferred to keep such moments to a minimum. It had nothing to do with disliking them, but between the recent slew of updates from Sycamore, his own research into the international effects and migration of ancient Kalos during and after the Great War, and making sure that his team was at the forefront of the latest strategies, his personal time was heavily limited. The recent development with Hilda was just another drain, albeit one he had no issues with.
His notes regarding her team's development had been maintained over the years. One part was a result of the occasional personal training with members of her team, and another part was due to reviewing her footage. While her true potential was only shown during the rare case where she needed to handle a challenger for the title of Champion, there were enough glimpses of her team throughout the years to paint a proper picture.
Teardrop and Teitei, her beartic and emboar respectively, had embraced their roles as forces of nature, wielding ice and fire as if they were extensions of themselves (and causing terrain altering tremors with every step). Spike, a bisharp Hilda had captured in her youth when it had tried to ambush her with its pawniard following, was following in Celéste's footsteps as a fast paced combatant, whittling enemies down with dozens of cuts before landing agonizing blows that bowled enemies over.
Ruffles had become an absolute terror over the years, bearing as much strength as her land based kin. The braviary's Defogs were absolutely blinding in its delivery, and unsuspecting foes often found themselves knocked out from a diving Brave Bird or Superpower, both capable of equaling a Giga Impact.
Beira, one of her newer members from Alola, was still refining his ice manipulation. His skill in simultaneous attacks from different angles, a technique learned from Caitlyn and Umbral, was slowly growing. Perhaps in another year the Alolan ninetails would be able to trick his foes onto believing he was on the opposite side of the snowstorm. Until then, befuddling his enemies with rampant Freeze-Drys, Confuse Rays, and Disables was the name of the game for the Ice-Fairy.
There was also the sometimes lead, sometimes anchor that was Holly. Physically weaker than either Teitei or Teardrop and significantly slower than either, the abomasnow had trained hard to make up the difference. Where the emboar and beartic shined with their physical prowess, Holly utterly stole the spotlight with his weather control. In the past five years, whenever Holly entered the field, no one had managed to break through the entirety of the snowstorms before it could be reapplied.
It was just a shame that the IPA limited move pools to four, even if their implementation was open to interpretation. As Ice types, Hilda's team were magnificently lacking in one aspect or another. They were much like Dark types in a way, needing a surprise attack or the numerical advantage in order to stay on top. If her team were to ever display their full strength and knowledge, he had no doubt that the discussion boards regarding Hilda and her odd, almost consistently disappointing showings throughout the international scene would have made a complete 180.
Alex tapped his pencil. By virtue of their speed and ability to evade opening attacks, Hilda's opening team members were Spike, Ruffles, and Beira. Teitei, Teardrop, and Holly were stuck as revenge units, with Teardrop benefitting significantly from a persisting prolonged snowstorm from the abomasnow.
Freeze-Dry was far too useful a move for Beira to give it up, and her specialty Aurora Veil, a technique that produced the effects of Reflect and Light Screen while a snowstorm was occurring, had lingering effects that went hand in hand with said snowstorm. Really, the only one that could possibly have any sort of change made to their moveset was Spike.
Knock Off was a Dark laden blow that prevented its target from making use of any extra benefits they might have, namely by disrupting the flow of their internal energy in a manner similar to Disable- though locating a hidden item such as a Colbur Berry and tossing it to the wayside was also one of the traits the move aided in. The most common example of the former case was including the oddly named charcoal powder into a fire 'mons food in the days leading up to an important battle. Something about how the material interacted with fire types allowed them to create significantly hotter flames without drawback. The move was incredibly useful, and were it not for evidence that bisharp could learn another move- one that was commonly not used in the way it should have been because implementing it was rather difficult, he wouldn't have even considered the idea of changing moves.
Stealth Rock. A Rock type move that created a hazard on the field, much like Spikes (a move originally used only by the pineco line) and Sticky Web (long thought to be a persisting String Shot, it was only officially recognized after Kalos' entry into the International scene). Rather than caltrops of (mostly) biological origin or extremely gooey silk, Stealth Rock instead identified clumps of stone nearby and made them more readily accessible- an isolated, low grade Stone Edge or Ancient Power.
Altering the stones was a difficult process to learn, but it had seen significant use in various tournaments in the past as creating destructible terrain that was perfect for knocking opponents into. That sometimes the stones could be made to explode on contact made the move even more useful. At high level battling though, it was rare that the stones were able to be taken advantage of. Often times those on the opposing side were able to destroy the stones before they were even able to be utilized, and the move eventually fell out of favor. Enough time had passed though, and with the amount of terrain control Hilda's team had, perhaps having Spikes learn how to use it would prove fruitful.
After a few minutes of searching, including a quiet moment where he thanked his past self for having the foresight to make sure all of his notes were organized properly, all his notes on the move had been pulled out.
Training alongside Teitei and Teardrop, it was likely that Spike would have picked up something regarding Stone Edge. Implementation could have similar methods as to the traditional form of Rock Slide, and attacks delivered in a similar fashion to Rock Smash might also have some value. The move required some mental focus, and based on the footage of one passionate Trainer, depending on how trained the follow up was, the gesture to raise the rocks could range from wide sweeping movements to little more than a subtle flick of a limb. Alex paused the video on Roark Saab's usage of the move when an angry knock came from his door. "Yes?"
One of the nurses, the one that was meant to handle swing shift if he remembered correctly, glared at him harshly. "You need to control your pokémon."
A myriad of thoughts flew by at that. Emerl was making sure Umbral was compartmentalizing the fragmented identities she had recently consumed in an isolated forest a low level Teleport away. Deus and Caitlyn were firmly on his belt, Celèste was off in Unova with Hilda, which meant Morgan…
"It's completely destroying the battlefield!"
Was not causing a scene that primarily involved Breeders. That was good. Alex cleared his throat when he realized the relief had become visible, agitating the nurse even more. "In what regard?"
"In what-" The man stared at him in bewilderment. "Go control your pokémon, before I report you to the league!"
"Just a second," he uttered, saving his progress before slipping past the man. His pace quickened as he neared the primary battlefield around the back. Dual streams of water arced through the air, cutting through a whirlwind of grass and leaves. At the same time, an array of massive bubbles containing lazily floating stars of white gently floated down to the ground and unleashed their payloads, trapping a panicked umbreon within. And at the far end of the field, where the box designated for the Trainer was conspicuously empty, a torkoal desperately tried to maintain its ball of light floating above the field, simultaneously defending itself from silvered tail lashes.
All around the field, spectators stared gobsmacked, and cameras operated by both man and 'mon were focused on each scene. It brought equal parts rage and pride to his heart, seeing Morgan manage to teach without his instruction. Rage though, that came from the spectacle being in public display.
"Your pokémon is destroying the field!" The nurse repeated, pointing viscerally.
There was no denying it. The field was completely prepped for a Muddy Water the likes of a mudslide. Divots in the ground from a plethora of moves had collected enough rain from the warring Rain Dance that columns of water could be called forth with ease, and scattered across the field were telltale signs of tunnels formed from contemptuous uses of Dig that locking down a target with a diving Aqua Jet into leaping Aqua Tail would be nothing more than another Monday.
"Yes, that's what happens during a battle," Alex answered, letting the anger flow out with every breath.
The man sputtered angrily. "That's it! I'm reporting you!"
"Before you do," he said slowly. "A few questions. Do you recognize the importance of this?" Alex exposed the right side of his jacket's interior. There, resting above a seamless pocket, was a black pin displaying a stylized pokéball. Consisting of two disjointed lines, the upper red line opened up on the inner left and the lower white on the inner right, the empty space formed by the two forming the division between the two halves as well as the shape of a button. The man scoffed. Before he could say anything, Alex continued. "And are you aware of any relation between me and the trainer on the field?"
"No, but-"
"I'm her mentor." He turned his attention back to the field. Habanero, Felicity's torkoal, was now surrounded by slowly encroaching Whirlpools, the writhing columns completely uncaring of any attempt to dissipate the waters. Basil, her shiftry, was fighting a losing battle against bolstered physical attacks, thick layers of water dulling the Grass type's blades. As for Luna...
A laden Aqua Tail knocked the umbreon into the center of the field, three pools of water arranged in a perfect triangle around her. Amongst the localized heavy rain, Morgan was able to slide over completely unnoticed. The waters around the duo swelled warningly, enough time for a proper Trainer to either issue a command or recall their pokémon.
Felicity did neither. In the next second, a pillar of water exploded upward from underneath Luna, hiding the Dark type from sight. Right as the water started to fall, from the three puddles water suddenly spiked in, the entire mass turning to ice an instant later.
Alex let out a sharp whistle, drawing the attention of everybody. Underneath the enshrined Luna, her face frozen into panic, Morgan mewed happily, tail swaying back and forth with contentment. As he trotted off the field, the rain quickly dissipated, the glimmering droplets of water only serving to highlight the carnage Morgan had created. At Alex's signal, the cameras were all shut off, the majority of the crew heading off to deal with the footage. "So." Alex knelt down and gave Habanero a few spurts of a Super Potion, as well as a few drops from a personal concoction revolving around a Passho Berry. "Anybody care to explain to me what happened?"
Nobody stepped forward. In silence, Alex moved to Basil and then Luna, carefully breaking the latter out of her ice prison before using up the rest of the canister on the umbreon. When he stopped in front of Felicity, the girl staring up at him with a vaguely horrified expression, he carefully gestured for her pokéballs, an act she quietly acquiesced to. When her team was recalled he handed them back to her, and cautiously placed a hand on her shoulder to lead her towards a more private place.
That the rest of the Kalosian trainers followed after didn't go unnoticed.
"So?" Alex flicked Morgan's ball into the air, the vaporeon having been recalled on the way to the clearing. "For the record, I'm not mad. I just want to know what happened."
"Felicity did no- mphfgh!"
"This is a one on one talk, kids. Stay silent until I say you can speak." He glanced down at Felicity. "Or if you think she really needs the help. I dunno. You'd know if she needs support."
When the girl refused to say anything, Alex leaned back against a tree. "I won't pretend I can read your mind. And even if one of my Psychics were out with me, they wouldn't read even your surface thoughts without your permission. But I can guess what you're thinking." With a quick roll of his fingers and a flick of his wrist, Morgan's ball was once again enlarged, the sphere catching in his hand with a mechanical 'clap!'.
"It's your first time seeing a pokémon act like that. Not limited by four moves, acting completely on their own with strategies that might only appear in dreams. You've never seen that kind of battling on the big screens. Nowhere on the net, not even talking about it on the streets. Not by anybody trustworthy, anyway." Another roll and flick, and the ball was safely secured back onto his belt. A moment later, the ball was enlarged once again, his right arm cocked back and ready to release. The action took less than a second, Felicity visibly startling at the sound.
"It's the kind of battling you expect to see in over edited, amature videos. Professional videos would never be caught doing those kinds of scenes." Alex returned the ball back, appearing for all the world as if he was resting the entire time. "You don't even see that sort of thing in the exhibition matches between Champions." He glanced over at her, a sly smile forming on his face, "Ah, but there's the important bit. You don't see. Those sort of battles? That's what happens when all the rules get thrown out the window. When the limits that were set in place to avoid the damage created in the wars not even forty years ago occurred."
Rules set in place to create a sense of civility.
"It's something you seem to keep forgetting about me." He glanced over towards the rest of the Kalosian trainers. "I'm a Master's level Trainer. And what you just saw? You weren't meant to see that. To fight against that. Not yet." Alex pushed off from the tree and bowed. "I failed as a Trainer and subjected you to something you were not prepared for. For this I sincerely apologize." When he rose, the girl was staring at him wide eyed. "In that instance, Morgan was no better than a Wild pokémon. He was untamed and behaved according to his own whims. I left him unsupervised, and were he more reckless you could have been seriously injured. You all could have."
A lie. Around humans, Morgan played the role of pampered pet to perfection. It was only when other mon came around that more aggressive behavior could possibly come to light. Unless Morgan was slighted in some manner, he would have gone along with whatever Felicity said or suggested. But to tell her that- that everything that had happened was her fault and she quite frankly deserved the awakening she received- he didn't need June around to know that was a Bad Idea.
When Felicity said nothing, still stunned by it all, he simply walked back towards the Center, not missing how Kennith was the only one to stare at him with anything remotely positive.
Not long after, he wasn't at all surprised when June appeared in his room, the same kadabra from before beside her and a scowl on her face. "One job, Moonlight. You had one job."
He turned to face her, raising a brow at her expression. "Nice to see you-" Psychic energy grabbed hold of him, the energy only barely shaken off by a sharp mental jab of noxious memories. "And here I was thinking you were visiting for pleasantries." He turned the chair around so he could look at her properly, measuredly placing it back down.
"I'll thank you not to inconvenience my trip back."
"I'll thank you not to treat me like a loose cannon."
She narrowed her eyes. "Can I? Ever since we met up in Goldenrod you've been making yourself more and more public. Walking side by side with Candela Monsoon, a registered Legendary owner from Unova, Battles with what had to be an electivire or worse near Palm Hills before any of that? Leaving a Gym Leader shaken so badly he had to close the gym down for two days?!"
Alex watched the grid of psychic energy expand across the walls of the room. To what purpose, he wasn't sure exactly, but if it kept the kadabra busy (for there was no way it was more than a support type unit) he wouldn't contest it.
"Look at me when I'm talking to you." No change in speed, or grip strength.
"Why Starlight, you almost make me think we can start yelling." He knew he looked funny, cheeks pinched between her fingers and his lips moving as if he was nothing more than a mere fish. It didn't stop him from giving her an unamused glare.
"And what if I am?" She hissed. "I can only do so much to protect you, Alex. Your do-whatever-I-want-and-get-away-with-it badge can only keep you from stepping on so many toes." She wrenched her hand back, heels clacking angrily against the floor. "Need I remind you that the degree of freedom you have is only because I managed to convince the IPA and Interpol that allowing you that privilege was far more conducive towards maintaining relations than keeping you locked in Unova?"
"Tch."
"Do not click your tongue at me, Alexander Collens." She jabbed a finger towards him. "Your skill and relations be damned, you are on thin ice, Alex. We hate IPA regulations the same amount, but if you keep flaunting them like this, especially! in front of novice trainers who barely qualify for Ace, that Worst Case Scenario we always talked about will happen sooner than either of us would like."
"So what would you have me do? Four months ago you welcomed me back to the public sphere. One month ago you told me that local problems were coming to light!" He scowled, doing his best to keep the anger out of his voice. "Why can't I be The Deterrent?" Every word was enunciated individually, frustration slipping through at what she wasn't saying.
The two of them stared at each other. Without a word, June reached out first, their hands clasping slowly.
"There's too many factors at play here, Alex," she whispered, sitting down on his legs. "You've been forgotten by the world for so long- hidden from even the Champions. We've been in a period of peace that hasn't been seen for generations." June leaned her head against his, lowering their hands to a more comfortable position. How long they stayed like that he couldn't say. Isolated from the rest of the world, nothing but the two of them- once again together.
"You know we're almost thirty." Softly. As if he was scared of breaking the silence. Perhaps he was. The moment these psychokinetic walls broke down was the moment they had to put theirs back up.
"We almost are," she repeated. "Just two more years." Their lips met.
"Still haven't found anybody?" He breathed, kissing her once more.
"Not yet. You?"
He pulled his hands away from hers, moving one to the back of her head and the other to her lower back. "A few trysts, but nobody that felt right." She met his approach in kind, a deep and longing embrace that rekindled every memory they spent in each other's arms- moments just like this, where nothing else mattered.
"Nobody that made you feel like this," she whispered, her lips briefly touching his once more.
They pressed their heads together once more, neither willing to break away first. When would the next time they could embrace like this be? When they could forget their responsibilities and just take comfort in the presence of one another?
"32?" He asked, remembering their childhood promise.
"32," she responded.
Who kissed who first, he didn't know. He just knew that only one thing mattered right now, and that was enough for him.