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Trainer id:4?
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gym badges:?
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It's early morning and quite frankly she's way too tired for this right now. She has no idea how Beth is still alive and kicking after last night (for someone so small, you'd imagine last night would have drained her to the point of a full day's sleeping but nope, miss firefly is ready to go faster that light travels in water.)

Lee's visibly exhausted yet he's trying to hold firm to his beliefs and honor systems. Remarkable honestly, given his actions last night. How long had he held on the precipice, by how much was able to contain due to that iron will of his? She might have to do more detailed tests in the future.

Her queen though of course, is the outlier. She looks like she has about as much as energy as she appears, which is to say, not much. Even her mini swarm which would be buzzing about to try and gather nutrients or energy for their beloved queen is more or less complacent. Placated. She's never fully understood the effects of a hormonal overdose that post coitus is bound to bring about. This is the most distinctive moment she's witnessed though, since the hive seems to be even less active than usually. There's no wafting scent of pheromones cascading around the room making them all antsy, just a simple layer permeating around her. Speaking of things around her…

The girl. The girl is content. She's fully aware that both Beth and her queen are insistent on calling her Lisa, but she can't come to terms with that just yet. They don't even know of the adoption request will go through or not. Are they qualified to take care of the child? Absolutely, she has no doubts about that. But there's that lingering percentage that life, that something will take the child away. She's not going to cling to the child just yet.

It's easier to call her child then to grow attached and have her heart wrenched.

Either way, the child is in the room. Awake but surprisingly aware of the peace. She's not crying for attention like she thought a child of her age would. Rather she's complacent. Watching. She seems to have a fondness for her queen (how could she not) and surprisingly, Beth. Well that's not surprising, Beth is quite the charmer, the surprise comes from how quickly they've grown attached. The child seems to be clinging to the two when she isn't waiting patiently in her little chair. Like right now, when breakfast is about to be served. She could use breakfast quite honestly. Last night took a lot out of all of them and it is identifiable in spades.

It's somewhat pedestrian for all the glamor, you would expect high class chefs or grandiose bustling, yet it's a nuclear family morning. Well not nuclear, that implies radiation or normalcy, paradoxical in it's comparison. Domesticated doesn't really fit either with how their unit operates. Low key is the term that Beth had used to describe it and she could not agree more with that. Compared to the hustle of chefs and papers, this was acoustic. Orange juice and various doughy breakfast items. Everyone had their own favourites to consume and she was no exception. A simple egg and green onion pancake with some bits of pan-fried meat. Enough to get her going throughout a lazy Sunday morning.

She's keeping a proverbial ear of course to the varying happenstances of the world at large around them. Her antenna sensitive to the information passing via radio. Like that for instance, that's an interesting little note.

"My queen, I'm going to turn on the news. I think Lee would want to hear this."

A wave of her queen's fingers is all that she needs to comply. A blackened surface framed by hexagons comes to life. The news. League news.

A man in a stuffy looking suit stands next to his casting partner, though standing next doesn't seem appropriate here. His partner towers over him, at least he would normally from the looks of it. Large, gold plated, and bandaged, his partner looks more fit to be in sandy dunes then a casting desk. Yet here they are

"And welcome back from that great commercial break!"

A bumper underneath the blond man reveals his identity, though his voice is well known enough amongst casual and die-hard fans alike. Chuck Reginald.

"That's right Chuck, we're in for quite the exciting match today." His partner, a Cofagrigus, stares into the camera as an unseen mouth hopefully moves as it emotes. The bumper underneath him reveals his identity. Mauro Miner. "The Jiada Pokemon League has decided on an exhibition match. The frozen fool Chad Swamps versus the up-and-coming dragon knight Sophia Neferati! A woman after my own heart that one."

"I thought we're supposed to keep our personal lives under wraps Mauro."

"We are, but of course, this one's hard to lay beneath the sand. Hailing of course from my hometown, Sophia's a one of a kind dragon trainer making her potential Gym Leader debut."

The image of the two bantering shifts over to an infographic. A still image of a rather impressive looking dragon woman. A Kommo-o. She's wearing what appears to be a white athletic uniform with red accents. Though the most impressive thing is not what she's wearing, but what's she adorned with. Scales, large and yellow that cover her forearms and head. If one didn't notice, she would appear more like a freak accident at a cymbal factory rather than a strong competitor.

"You bet Mauro. She's been making quite the noise. Her performance in this years League championship has garnered her quite the following. It seems today her chance to make it big!"

"Make it big indeed, but she does have some cold competition in front of her."

Sophia's image quickly shift downward as the two announcer talk, bringing a more cartoonish looking fellow. With blue hair spiked up into a single point, ice crystals jutting out of frostbitten skin, and large talons, the image would look almost scary if the face that was made wasn't dopey.

"Chad Swamps is no stranger to the spotlight. Fact of the matter, the guy craves it. Wanting to show the world his frigid style and impressive routine, Chad's been a corner stone of the league's gym leaders ever since he made his debut."

"And he's quickly going to be out of it. If this match is any indication." Lee's comments cut into the running bit from the T.V, his arms crossed as he faced the screen dead on. Not like he could actually see what was on the screen, just facing it as the source of the sound.

"Yeah, those magazines about his dealing with those cross fellows right?" Beth chimed in, the most up to date on cultural happenstances of the four. "I thought those were just rumors meant to get clicks and buzz."

"Be that as it may, smoke invariably leads to fire." Lee's proverbs come in once again. "For someone who's particularly one note, Chad's bad publicity is bad news. Not only that, but he's gotten more than a fair bit of slack from the league."

"That one is news to me, could you elaborate my blade." We all stop as our queen finally decides to join the conversation. She had been dealing with placating the child, though news of league business must have caught her attention. Well now, all of our attentions.

"Reports from the league indicate that more than half of gym challengers this year had shown up with an ice badge." Lee said.

Half the challengers had ice badges? "That isn't all too out of the ordinary. With 3 paths, at least 1/3 of the challenges in theory should have an ice badge." She mused out loud to the party. "How many challengers were there in the league then this year?"

"Rotomi says 150+." Beth answered after checking her phone quickly.

Calculations in her head were easy. "150+ challengers…so 75+ challengers came with an ice badge? That's… alarming."

"So, scandals," one of Beth's fingers comes up, "plus easy numbers means that the League's cracking down on this guy."

"That seems to be the case My Light." Beth's grin in response is a little too bright honestly, too bright in the morning anyways. "Though judging by the look of him, he's not taking this as seriously as he should."

"…How so?" That got Lee's attention. Someone not taking the league seriously always get's his attention.

With a finger towards the screen, Beth answers. "His submitted roster for the fight doesn't include himself."

"I'm assuming you pointed at the screen."

"…My bad Lee," sheepishly rubbing the back of her head, Beth looks flustered (as usual), "but yeah he's not submitting himself to fight. Heck I don't think he's taking this fight seriously at all."

Looking over the team she had to agree. For an Alolan Sandslash and ice type specialist, this team wasn't very ice type at all. A Mr. Mime (not even Galarian), Eiscue, and Azumarill. Even more notably, Chad himself is missing from that team. "Maybe he's purely looking at this from a type perspective. Sophie's a dragon type with a dragon type team. Ice and Fairy are good counters to that."

"If he did the bare minimum of research sure." Lee took on that contemplative voice. "Sophie's a strange one. She uses dragon types to great effect, but she's used a lot of weaponry too. Aegislash, Bisharp, and Escavalier come to mind. She is a dragon knight after all."

"So, if she's a dual steel type specialist, this guy's a circus type specialist."

"That seems to be the case, yes Beth."

It almost seems like torture to watch the fight at this point. The outcome has been almost guaranteed long before it's started. So why are they still watching this shit show? Why are they still broadcasting it?

"It's for publicities sake." She's caught of guard by Lee. She should honestly less surprised at this point…even if it's ironic that a martial meathead caught the psychic off guard. "They can't sack him if he's done nothing wrong. However, there's enough to evidence to warrant getting rid of him. Of course, he doesn't know that."

"Or he's too party happy to care." Beth holds up her Rotom phone, specifically Chatter is enough to pull up videos and clips of him. Just the last night specifically. "If that posture is any indication, he probably partied hard last night, maybe too hard."

"Ladies and gentlemons," The previously unattended T.V finally draws their attention again as Chuck's boisterous voice roars back to life, "We have quite the unexpected twist for all you pokefans! Both of todays challenger's have agreed to fight one on one!"

"The two challengers will only be selecting one Pokemon from their submitted rosters."

"Sophia's entering into the ring correct?" Lee queried though; it was more of a confirmation of a hunch rather than a legitimate question.

"Yup and opposite to her is his Mr. Mime," She can almost feel the frown etching itself onto her face from the venom in Beth's words, "Riveting."

"Mute the audio. Show me what's happening." Figures Lee would do that.

She presses the button on the t.v remote and silence fills the room. A breath in and she lays her mind bare into the aether, wisps and waves flowing towards his mind. It tickles and tucks in, seeking purchase into space that represents him…and he answers openly. She watches not his eyes, but his body react to sudden visual clarity. Years of training causing his arms to only move once in response, inching up quickly before being brought back down by his side. It was…she's not sure how to really place those feelings of that motion…but it reminds her that his sight is something that he once could get used to.

"Ann."

She slip ped up again. She's still not used to that.

"Sorry Lee."

She returns her focus to the screen, watching as the battle unfolds. They've taken to observing the shoulder of Sophie. Large rounded scales bounce and rattle as she moves across the battlefield, dust clouds forming just in the corner as her dragging arm rakes through loose dirt. A rock formation comes into view from the left, a jutting spiral bigger than most tree trunks. The camera almost doesn't stop in time as the dragon knight comes to a stop behind the pillar, letting her dragging arms fling dust freely in response. Before even a moment, they're off again, reversed this time to watch as Sophie runs into the dust cloud of their creation. A jump and she's soaring. Another rock acts as a point to bound off and the dust turns clear. The Mr. Mime uncovered in the center of the arena, dancing to entertain the crowd. Sophie's body convulses. Once. Twice. Great arms clap together. A blue sphere shoots toward the opponent, energy streaming around air as it impacts the foe cleanly, dust and debris exploding from the impact point. Clanging Soul?

The Mr. Mime appears out from the epicenter unharmed. Five padded fingers cupping around an ear. The dragon turns towards Chad. He's boisterous for a coward, not even willingly to throw himself into the line of battle.

"Ann."

Right. The dragon knight shakes as long talons come to grips with another rock formation. Instead of jumping off, they simply decide to run down the slope towards the figure in the center. A leap is all they need to come crashing towards the Mr Mime, their dancing body the intended landing pad for a shaking beast. Their motion is halted in mid air, a shiny reflective surface making itself known to the audience and the dragon. Rather than be deterred, it's a challenge. Sophie's left-hand rears back mightily before thrusting forward. Air ripples around the contact as cracks splinter forward, shiny bits flying outward. Using the recoil, they land on their haunches away from the makeshift barrier. The two stand each other down, one breathing heavily from exhaustion, the other still rested.

The Mr. Mime danced too much; they'll pay for that.

Sophie pushes their assault forward again. 20 meters. There's no defense that can be put up. 15 meters. The dancer's only just starting to notice. 10 meters. Hands go forward to brace. 5 meters. Tired legs dig into the ground. Impact. A fist connects squarely, Mr. Mime's floppy head reeling back from the force. Arms wave in futile circles to balance. The screen pans to the right, Sophie's draconic muzzle entering into the frame as the knight's larger tail whips around and smacks the opponent from behind. Another surge of pressure blocks the mime's newfound forward moment, a punch aimed at his torso. Shame that it's not enough. The dragon's hands reach out to the flabby face, bringing it in to connect with a rising knee.

"I've seen enough, thank you Beth." Lee's words mark her cutting off the mental stream.

"Man that was a fucking shit show." Cold air puffs out as the large white talons hang over knees. Despite what he look like out there, he's more than sober. Fact of the matter, he's fully awake and figuring out what his next step is. Thank fuck for the cold room. Anywhere else would make his thinking harder in all honesty. "So, what know? I took the fall. Where's my money?"

A familiar stranger steps out of the shadow, garbed in white cloth and bearing a large cross on their shirt. Nothing too fancy, though in the middle of the cross is a weird marking. An X within a C.

"You did well…for a hybrid that is." Even if he can't see his face, the Sandslash is sure that there's some kind of smirk there.

"You better pay up. Otherwise I'll blow the lid off this whole operation." This asshole better not fuck with him. He just gave up a shit ton of money for this…not like he wasn't going to get it now but living the life of a gym leader earned him a pretty penny.

"Why should we?"

"I beg your fucking pardon?"

"Why should we? If you 'blow the lid off' the whole operation, that you took bribes to fall and paint the league in a bad light, the league would look bad regardless."

He's been had. Well, if he's going to get dragged through the mud, he might as well go down swinging right? Sharpening his claws, the artic Sandslash accelerated towards the cloaked figure. Two hands swing outward before closing back in on their intended target.

Only to find him gone.

"See, you're just a dumb filthy hybrid. You can't even talk. Just pure animalistic rage. Pathetic. This is why our cause is just."

He got played. He got played hard. Fuck those Team Cross bastards! He's going to fucking demolish them!

"Goodbye Chad, though…no one will miss you."

Goodbye? What the fuck did he mean….

What? That stung….shit…losing…..conscio….

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