The museum was supposed to be a quiet place. It had just the right atmosphere to make you stop and think about the treasures stored within-to give just the slightest air of reverence whenever you took a stroll through its many splayed secrets. Now, the shouts of her comrades echoed down from the high vaulted ceilings, asking for help with this or if we had enough of that. Boxes and crates and containers of all sizes were scattered about the polished floor of the entrance to the lobby. There were tools of nearly every situation, and spares for the spares, covered in dust from all the time they spent waiting in the backrooms for the day they were needed. That day seemed like it had finally come.
Panne stood on the sidelines of all the commotion, struggling to keep her stomach down. Even just the few boxes she'd carried out here were enough to wear her out. What good was she here, though? The Braixen fidgeted with the scarf around her wrist, pulling on the corners, neurotic in making sure there was absolutely no way it could come loose. The Tempest Looplet was already tight around her neck and she'd just now put it on again. There was simply no hope of ever feeling comfortable in her own skin.
Through the double doors in the back marched Vallion, hauling something across the floor that probably weighed more than he did. He hadn't stopped working since the others got back from the Toxicroak. Worse yet, he stopped talking much when they had brought back news of three more deaths. Dispersed intermittently between bursts of exertion, his face settled into a sort of distant stare. He still thought it was all his fault. She shot him a sad look of her own as he dragged the crate across the floor to one of the members of Toxicroak's crew, who happened to be exceptionally strange.
The captain, a strangely gritty Clefable, muttered something to the Servine before they sent him off to wait. Another few of the sailors came by to take inventory what what he'd brought, a Comfey and a Reuniclus. Vallion didn't say anything as he sauntered over to where Panne stood. There was still a few feet of distance between them, but it didn't seem like he wanted to be to far off on his own.
"Nervous?" she prodded. He didn't respond at first, too busy staring at his own feet to acknowledge her. "Come on. It won't be so bad. Take-off is going to be pretty crazy, but we should be mostly alright once we're finally out in the water. This ship's supposed to be pretty big."
"I'm not scared," Vallion said with a huff.
"Everyone's scared, Val. It's okay to be. We're just good at hiding it these days."
He shook his head. "I know that! It's not about the danger. Obviously anyone's going to be freaked out about that. I just...really, really hope that this works. I want everyone to come out of this okay. I want the ghost to follow us out."
Panne reached out towards his shoulder, but he stepped another few inches away. Her ears twisted back. "It definitely going to be okay, though. This is going to work out just fine!" A grunt was all she got in response. He still wouldn't believe her. "You're still really taking this personally, aren't you? None of this is even your fault. You're just doing your best."
"Was it our fault when the world was being threatened by Dark Matter? Was it ours the second time? Not really, but we were still the ones who dealt with it. I don't see how that's any different from now. Like it or not, this whole thing revolves around me, and it's my fault just for just existing."
"You- Don't say that!" She struggled to keep her voice down, only pulling the wayward gazes of a few of the sailors. "You're not to blame at all! You don't have to feel that way! I don't want you to have to feel that way!"
"Hey wait! I'm not too late yet!" From across the lobby echoed a boisterous voice, shattering the argument before another breath could even leave her mouth. Swirlix bounced towards them with a basket precariously balanced atop her head. The checkered fabric which covered the top flipped up to reveal a bounty of baked goods within-some of which she wasn't even aware Swirlix knew how to make. "I didn't think you guys would pack so fast!"
"Too late for what? What's all this for?" Panne wanted to whine, but the smell made her stomach growl even more.
The fairy wore a toothy grin, obviously very pleased with the gift's audible reception. "Well you're both real trying hard, aren't you? I was just thinking about how your vacation was totally ruined, so I decided I was going to do something to help you cheer up!" Another nudge placed the baskets directly at their feet. "There! And I didn't even eat anything out of them this time! Don't expect any seconds after this, though."
After having let her heavy bag slide from her shoulders, Panne took the gluttonous ball of fluff into her arms, wincing slightly from her bruises. "Oooh, you didn't have to do any of that! I wouldn't have minded the rations on the ship!" The smell of sweet dough nearly sent a shiver of hunger down her spine. "Thanks, though. I really needed something like that."
Swirlix wiggled free of her grasp, blinked at her with that wide smile intact, then looked over to Vallion. The Servine seemed a little stunned himself, though it could have just been the alluring scents. "I don't know if you still like them, but I baked some more sitrus bread than usual for you! Though I mean, if you came back with some left, I wouldn't be insulted or anything. You don't have to eat the wholething if you don't want to, you know?" The fairy gave him a massive wink, and then another one. Then a third just to make sure he understood.
Just as Panne finished securing the precious gift deep within her bag, the Society and the sailors had finally merged into a single group. The vast array of supplies had been swept up into strong arms and onto stronger backs. There were twelve crewman and six explorers in total. Her and Val-of course-Ampharos, Mawile, Jirachi, and Kadabra. Four of them were to stay behind. There was Pelipper, who wanted nothing to do with this crazy stunt. Floatzel, who also hated the plan but voiced it like he was going to watch over the compound in their absence. Swirlix obviously didn't want to get into the thick of it, and Archeops who thought that Floatzel might need a hand dealing with the aftermath of this mess.
And, of course, they were bringing one ancient immortal as well. As surprised and slightly annoyed as Panne was that Kadabra had worked up the nerve to come, she never let that dragon leave the corner of her eye. There were more important issues to keep tabs on than petty crap like that. After all, what if Hydreigon's plan was to sabotage this mission and kill them all? Nobody could say that it wasn't, could they?
"You guys are pretty nuts, you know?" Pelipper began, perched atop a receptionist's desk like it was second nature. "So you got a good ship for it, that's fine and all. She's probably pierced through plenty of storms on her own before. That doesn't change how terrible of an idea this is."
"Tch. Ye think we don' know that?" When the Clefable spoke it was like looking at an optical illusion while repeating a tongue twister. How could a pokemon like that even get a voice so deep and an accent to thick? "This ain' the first time we hauled outta port with a foot halfway t'rough the door to hell, and I doubt it's goin' to be the last. Still better than sittin' around waiting for some juiced-up Spiritomb to pluck us. Damn crazy nigh' it's gonna be for er'ryone stuck here!"
Ah. Right. They didn't know that the plan was to lure the Spiritomb away. That's probably for the best, huh?
Floatzel crossed his arms, his chest puffed out all mighty. "You guys better come back in one piece. I'm not about to run this place on my own! Even though I could."
"It'll be just like going out for groceries." Ampharos winked. "We'll return before you even know it. Then Altaria can give you some more life tips."
"...Take your time. No rush."
Like a wave they moved towards the exit. As soon as those twin doors were unlocked, the shift in the air pressure burst through and washed over them. One by one they plunged into that whistling roar, ducking their heads low in the dying light of the evening. The thought of being soaked was truly dreadful just this morning, but the second time around she couldn't really be bothered. The pelting rain couldn't be much worse than the ocean they'd be sleeping at the bottom of before the hour was up.
There was somehow even less visibility than before. The Braixen could hardly see more than a few feet in front of her. When combined with the deafening sounds that stifled anything that wasn't the storm, her senses were deprived from all aside from the torrential flood of sensation. Creaking wood beneath her feet, cold rain slamming into her head, walls of wind threatening to carry her away. To add insult to injury, the group began to pass by the remnants of her earlier defeat. Scorch marks and gaping holes dotted the docks in increasing frequency. The sailors hardly bat an eye towards the carnage, but the rest of them stared in nervous reverence as they passed by.
They turned as one onto an arm of the pier indistinguishable from any other. Moored ships on either side bounced up and down with such violence that her legs turned to jelly just being near them at all. Forget leaving port, just getting on the damn boat in the first place was going to be half the battle. The Viridian waited for them at the end of the pier, At first glance. there was little the galleon possessed that the other mid-class ships surrounding it did not. Even the supposed reinforced hull-the thing that was meant to make this trip possible-seemed exactly the same as the others. Where was the iron plating and the huge bolts? What about this was storm-proof? It didn't even look long enough to take on the kinds of waves that were out in open ocean right now.
As Panne feared, boarding was indeed a massive undertaking. The crewman moved with a uniform efficiency to gather long planks that were once secured to the side of the docks, then lay them down on the undulating edge of the ship. This process would have taken maybe thirty seconds tops if they were doing it in calm weather. Here, it took six sailors and several minutes to hold down three pieces of wood just well enough that they didn't immediately slide off, and even then nothing could be done about the chaos of the waves below.
The sailors who weren't busy forming the bridge were the first to cross. It must have been like standing on top of a Tauros, but none of them were particularly shaken by the act and got to work as soon as they reached the other side. Perhaps they'd found the exact perfect crew to do this after all. Once it was the Society's turn, Jirachi and Hydreigon had the advantage of just flying over the gap. Mawile went across with her horn bitten down a little too hard on Ampharos' arm, probably fearing the worst from his clumsiness. They made it across fine enough.
The problem now was that it was her turn. Just one look over the edge at the sloshing nightmare below was enough for her guts to jump up into her throat. Her whole body froze. Despite the numbness that had crawled into her extremities, Panne felt something wrap tightly around her arm. Vallion's vine tugged her and Kadabra along, forcing them onto the bridge whether they wanted to move or not. It was just a few steps forward, and yet she would've much rather been shimmying across a one-hundred foot cliff than ten feet above the water. Don't let the wind knock you over. Do NOT let the wind knock you over. Her feet didn't even pick up into the air as she slid herself across the wood.
That final jump onto the deck couldn't have come sooner. Panne collapsed onto the Viridian like it was a safety net, though her bruises weren't fooled by the relief. The Reuniclus of the crew had managed to hold the planks with its telekinesis for just long enough for the rest of them to board sailors, not impressed in the slightest, were already at work preparing the boat for its ill-advised departure. Ropes were hoisted and dragged, begrudging wheels were turned, and their many crates of tools and supplies were ushered into the newly unlocked guts of the ship. The process was almost autonomous for them. Panne knew a thing or two about running ships, but this was on another level.
The Braixen looked back over the city before she fled down below deck. All the power grids had long since blown out, so all she could even see were the first few warehouses out on the inner edge of the docks. It was somewhere out there right now, probably sucking the life out of another unsuspecting victim. Or perhaps it was watching them right now? Sneaky bastard. "You'll never steal him from me again," she mouthed, then turned back down the steep stairs into darkness.
The inky insides of the ship, though disorienting as all hell, still felt like a gift from heaven compared to the outside. A few of the Society were delegated to help work on the topside, while the rest of them were herded down into the cold blackness to get everything else ready. Panne hadn't been there for more than a few moments before Clefable stuck his head down there and ordered her around. There were apparently little lanterns around the narrow corridors which needed lighting. They were definitely a curious design: a quarter-dome of milky glass with a reflective, rust-colored sheet for backing. Inside was a single candle with a blackened wick, which likely had barely enough airflow to burn in the first place. The captain demonstrated how to dismantle the dome and get at the candle within.
"It burns low, but it'll keep on burning fer hours n' hours without much attention. And they don't mind the waves much either. We can't work in the dark. Light the res' and we'll be off."
After a flick of her wrist to shake off the excess water, the Braixen got to work with a tiny flame on the end of her fingers. Struggling not to get tossed around by the churning waters, she felt around the dusty interior and searched for the fixtures high up on the walls. The brass foil definitely helped make these tiny wicks go a long way. Just a handful of the lamps managed to illuminate just enough space to fill in the gaps of shadow down the hall. It was surprising to even see lanterns in a ship at all, but this was definitely treated to not be particularly flammable. It'd probably be easier to burn a hole through the hull than catch it on fire. Having light down below the deck, even just barely enough to squint by, was already enough to make the Viridian impressive. Now to see if they'll capsize and die anyway.
There were sure a lot more doorways to rooms than she expected to see, as well. From closets to living quarters to something vaguely resembling a kitchen. The nautical bridge itself wasn't particularly noteworthy aside from stairs that spanned its width, but there was so much more going on than usual. Maybe all that inner framework helped stabilize the ship somehow? Who the hell knows. Perhaps it had something to do with how everything that might have even been slightly loose was either bolted or tied down, whether it be a trunk in the corner or a pipe that ran along the wall. There was definitely some very intentional design going on that she couldn't quite grasp all the way. Well, it was obvious why things might be tied down, but this place just felt so deliberate.
It didn't take too long to loop back around to the stairwell, but Panne definitely wasn't getting any more used to the shaking. Worse yet, there seemed to be another floor entirely to deal with. The whole ship creaked and moaned around her as she crawled down the next set of steps. This next sea of darkness opened up into the hollow chamber that seemed to span the rest of whole of the ship. The bottom curve of the inner hull was filled with thick horizontal beams, bracing the walls of the ship and reinforcing its framework. There were several iron mechanisms interlocked between the mighty beams, and presumably within. As light gradually filled the room, the pillars converged in the center of the chamber, each expanding into a hub of wheels and gears and handles. There were five mechanisms in total-two on either side, and one that controlled something out the back of the ship.
The Braixen glanced up into the skeleton of wooden columns once the lanterns were all lit. It reminded her more of a Spinarak's web than a hull, a complex kaleidoscope of shadows mirroring a maze of wooden supports and symmetrical curves. The ribcage of the Viridian. A little difficult to admire with the waves pounding every ounce of their fury into the walls around her. What were all these strange machines? They looked like they were operated from that central area, but what did operation even entail?
"Bet yer wonderin' what these even are, huh?" Panne nearly jumped out of her skin. She whipped around, flame still blazing in her palm, and saw a Gurdurr clamoring down the stairs. They chuckled heartily and threw some of the Society's crates to the floor. "Thought ye heard me coming. Didn't mean to scare."
She lowered her arm and sighed at the perpetual heart attack that was today. The Gurdurr continued on in her silence. "The Viridian's built for this stuff, ey? When the wind's pushin' back, we gotta find some better way to push forward. It ain't much when it comes down to't, but there's wheels on the sides n' a rudder in the back. As long as we got juice in our arms, she'll move. 'S how we're even gettin' outta port."
"Huh. Weird. So you get pokemon to turn those bits and..." Panne trailed off. "Holy hell, that's probably insanely difficult. And wouldn't you have to do that the entire time?"
The Gurdurr shrugged and started back up the stairs. "You won't gotta worry 'bout it, n'yways. Not with all them bandages on you. We'll just put the rest o' ya through the gutter, huh? Ha!"
With the ship thoroughly illuminated, All Panne had to do was crawl her way back up and navigate the narrow corridors without vomiting. Halfway through the process, this proved to be way more difficult than usual. Of course, Vallion looked much worse off than even her, the coloration drained from his face and a glazed emptiness in his eyes. He had slumped down outside of one of the living quarters and bobbed his head to the motion of the waves. When she asked if he was okay, it had taken him several seconds to notice that she was there at all. Yeah, no. This was his first rodeo as far as his memories were concerned. Apparently the body didn't play as big of a part as he would have liked in normalizing sea sickness.
They found themselves in mundane, almost cell-like room, very modestly lit from that single candle in the hallway through an internal barred window. There was hardly more than an arm's length and a half of space, which was practically a dingy hole compared to their luxurious quarters back in the compound. Bellowing shouts pierced the storm's roar and trickled down through the planks. The commotion at the top was getting more intense. They were shoving off soon, judging by what few things she did manage to pick up. It was going to be bumpy.
Vallion let out a quivering breath, barely stable even with her arm around his shoulder. "No bed."
"'Well of course not," she said. "How are you gonna fit a bed in this freakin' behemoth of a ship? And besides, it's not so bad. Some pokemon are lucky to even find shelter to sleep in. We've definitely spent the night in worse places, I can tell you that."
He frowned and threw his bag into the corner, which promptly rolled back at him from the angle of the ground. The Servine just grabbed it again and coiled up in place. "We should have brought a blanket or something. I don't know how I'm supposed to sleep like this. With all this happening. It's impossible."
"Yeah. It sometimes is." Panne set herself next to him, using her own bag like a sort of wedge to keep from sliding around so much. It sort of worked. "On the bright side, this plan really seems like it's going to work right? I mean, I had my doubts about this ship at first, but everything seems to be coming together really nicely. This part was kind of inevitable, though. We were asking for it."
Vallion held his nose up high as he lurched with the constant motion, giving her a quiet groan in response. She didn't bother pressing him any further when he could barely find the space to breath. With a bit of difficulty, Panne reached over her bag and fiddled with the clasps enough to pop them open. Careful not to spill the contents all over the cabin, she angled the opening towards the wall and withdrew a fresh towel from within. She'd been damp for such an extended period of time that she hardly even noticed the sting anymore, but it'll really start to hurt if things ever did calm down.
While toweling herself, the Braixen noticed the ache that had permeated into all her bones and muscles, and the distinct lack of pain in her throat. Had the Spiritomb even noticed they left? Whether it was going to follow them or not, they were heading straight for Grass Continent anyway. They'd just have to get Val the help he needed and then rush back before it caused any further damage. That is, if they could even trust what Hydreigon had said in the first place. Having concentrated on her own throat too much, an itch had developed out of nowhere. Vallion looked at her like she was dying as soon as she coughed.
"It- Is it coming?" he uttered under his breath.
"Nah. I'm probably getting a cold from all this stupid rain." She buried her head into the cloth and began to dig deep into her fur, pushing her ears around in the process. Did she even bring a brush? She better have. "What about you? Getting sick yet? You're not exactly warm-blooded, you know."
The Servine blinked at the ceiling. "I don't know. I think I'm okay, besides..." He went silent as the boat lurched forward. "Besides this. I don't know what normal's supposed to be."
Panne brushed her hand along the back of his neck, frowning as deeply as her cheeks would allow. "Yeah, you're totally freezing right now. Though I guess this cabin's pretty small. Don't worry, you'll get warmed up in no time with me around." That's not to mention how much more help she could be in the matter. She'd only have to get a little closer...
The whole ship creaked with stress as it bore the full brunt of the storm. There was a very distinct clunking sound somewhere off to the side, accompanied by the rousing shouts of the sailors as they pulled with all their might. The anchor had been raised. There was a great lurching throughout the Viridian, one distinct from the push and pull of the waves. The sounds of the mechanisms below reverberated through the hull and nearly overtook even the howl of the wind. There was so much happening around them kinetically, so many forces struggling against one another. It was enough to make even the most stoic pokemon uneasy.
But none of this was new to Panne. She'd been in hurricanes. She's seen the seas at their worst. There have been ships that snapped in half beneath her feet from their own weight. These are the kinds of things that pass. You survive them and you move on. The thing that couldn't leave her mind was how hard Vallion had been trying not to shiver. He squinted his eyes so tightly, desperately trying to imagine himself someplace else as the whole world swayed. He was so terrified, but was somehow even more scared of showing it. Maybe it would make him appear weak, like there was a chance he wouldn't follow through with all this. This situation that he had only blamed himself for.
"It's not your fault," she said. It was unclear if he was even listening.
There really was no way of telling what was going on outside, or how far they'd even managed to limp away from the port, if at all. Every so often a loud bang smashed into the side of the ship and rattled the teeth in her skull, but that was about it. There was never any emotion in the shouts of the sailors to go off of. They were as much of a machine as the mechanisms below, and she understood about as much of both. The anticipation never seemed to end. They couldn't just keep holding their breaths forever. At some point they had to have either survived the gambit or died trying. When that truth would finally come to light was agonizingly uncertain.
"Hey. It's really not your fault," Panne continued, unable to shake that thought from her head. For everything that was happening, it stuck in the foreground and refused to go away. "You are not a mistake. You aren't putting anyone in danger by being you. I would never have you any other way than the way you are now. I love you so much."
She reached out to him once more and brought the back of her hand across his icy scales. The jerking movements of the ship threw her off balance, causing her to fall over onto where he had curled up. The Braixen didn't reject it like she was supposed to. Instead, she followed through with the motion, slipping between him and the wall as her arm traveled to his chest. He was so cold that she could almost immediately feel his skin sap what little heat remained in her fur. Her other arm snaked its way out from its awkward position in the corner and traveled beneath his neck.
Vallion didn't rebel against the embrace at all. Whether it was from lack of energy or just lack of mental space, the Servine allowed himself to be wrapped up in her arms, almost shuddering as her tail slipped between her own legs and curled over him. The seconds were already dragging on as it was, and they only felt longer the harder she squeezed, curling as much of herself around him as physically possible. He was the only stability she had in this unending flurry of sounds and sensations. The texture of his skin against her fur. The ragged breaths he drew just trying to keep it together. Every wince he made from sudden noises that crashed around them. It only took one lapse of control for him to become the center of the universe once again. In a way, all of this did revolve around him, but not to blame. Never to blame.
She planted a kiss on the top of his head. Such a shameless show of affection, why would she even do that? "I can stop if you want."
A tiny murmur barely managed to leave the Servine's mouth. His answer only came when a vine crept up over her shoulder and around her back, keeping her right up against him. It's not like it would have been a hard choice to make, what with how warm she was and how long they'd be stuck in this tiny room together. The reaction was still enough to make her heart swell up, but even so, there was a voice in the back of her mind that refused to believe it. It said that she was taking advantage of him, that she had finally given in to her urges like a coward.
A sudden lurch made her realize how silly it was to worry about something like that at a time like this.
Whether he cared to be stuck in her arms or not, the fact of the matter was that he wasn't shaking anymore. The ocean still tried its absolute hardest to topple them over. Even in the most perilous, most helpless, of situations, it could have always been worse. They could have been alone, for one. Or Vallion could have rejected her and sidled up into the corner and hyperventilated while she could do nothing but watch. Instead of any of that, they were very much alive and entwined together in the tenuous candlelight. There was no telling if she'd be able to hold him like this come tomorrow. For now, she'd nuzzle her chin just over the top of his head, a captive audience to the cacophony orchestra that went on around them.