Okay! I'm back, please forgive me....the internet was down for a couple days and then I had two papers to write last week, so that's why it's been so long. And this weekend was just plain hectic.

Well, here we are with Chapter Seven! More character development...and the penultimate player in this little shindig appears! Some character development, some random stuff happens....just sit back and enjoy, my friends.

DISCLAIMER: It should be apparent that I don't, in fact, own Pokémon; however, not doing this is known to cause cancer in the state of California. I own only the specific characterizations of the canon characters as well as the assorted and individual background characters. This work cannot be used, copied, reproduced or otherwise displayed with permission. All rights reserved; Blake Wilson, The Pokémon Company, Satoshi Tajiri and Ken Sugimori, Nintendo, Gamefreak and Creatures Ltd.

December 17, 2000.

43 Malachite Street, Apartment 12

Veilstone City

1:07 AM

Gregori stood in the antechamber of Apartment 12, his large fur coat hanging loosely on his shoulders. Gripping a cigarette, he took a long drag and let the nicotine billow about his nose, staring intently out the small window by the door.

The snow was driving relentlessly towards the ground, barely stopping to float towards the pavement, never ceasing in its rush to bundle on the ground. The snow had already claimed five feet from the earth, intruding on the cars and the houses, nearly piling up so much to block the doors.

The power had gone out long ago. Cyrus, by nature a heavy sleeper, hadn't noticed. He was currently slumbering away under a mass of quilts and blankets in his king-size bed.

Gregori, relegated to the couch, was not so lucky. A very light sleeper, he jerked awake every time the apartment groaned or shifted or clinked , unfamiliar noises assaulting his ears and hauling him away from his sleep.

So he decided to smoke and watch the snow fall in flurries to the ground.

His thoughts kept reflecting back to the earlier conversation he'd had with his sister, Natalyia. He knew that he shouldn't keep her in the dark about Cyrus, and his newfound job, but he didn't feel as if she would entirely approve of his actions. There were some things that just needed to be kept secret, and his dear little sister was already too nosy for her own good.

Gregori took a long drag of his cigarette and let the nicotine billow about his nose, where he gently inhaled the dregs.

This was one thing that he liked about the snow; the fact that it was so quiet. As a person, he disliked loud noises. Of course, that had made sleeping during his stint in the pen quite difficult, but Gregori had never really liked sleeping for long periods of time anyway.

As he took another puff of the cigarette, letting it curl about his nostrils, he reflected on his year or so in prison. It wasn't so hard for him to imagine what he'd done to get there (stealing from a department store was one thing, stealing from the government quite another) but he'd always been confused about the reasons they protested his intrusion so vehemently.

He'd been a scientist working on the MarshBadge Experiment: a top secret experiment from the uppermost echelons of the Sinnohsian government. Originally conceived as an experiment to move large quantities of people without the use of Psychic-Type Pokémon; ideally designed for the still-active Sinnohsian army. It had ultimately failed, since the project required massive amounts of energy, which couldn't be easily obtained on a battlefield.

Plus, the first time the Sinnoh Naval Force had tried the machine, the ship had been drastically damaged, and several hundred servicemen and women had been injured or killed. After scuttling the ship, and swearing the Naval Force to secrecy, the project was disbanded. The scientists were warned not to speak of their time in the experiment, but Gregori had ensured the project would live on by stealing most of his classified research.

Gregori wasn't proud of the time and effort he and the twenty-three other scientists had spent on the project, but it wasn't really a waste of his time either. He wasn't….unscrupulous…per se, but he didn't mind working on projects that others considered taboo. He surmised, taking another long drag of his cigarette, that working with Cyrus would be considered very taboo. Especially by his sister.

Stubbing out the cigarette that was not quite finished onto the arm of his coat, Gregori sighed and returned to the couch, intent on catching a few hours sleep.

December 17, 2000.

Four Rockslide Avenue, Mayor's Residence

Veilstone City

3:33 AM

It was very quiet in the Mayor's bedroom when Jennifer bolted upright in her bed, panting hastily.

The power had gone out, rendering the room dark and cold. It was deathly still, almost as if she was sleeping in a padded mausoleum. The Mayor could see her breath curling in the air, little puffs of warm clouds that were quickly absorbed into the night.

Turning her head from side to side, Jennifer picked up her glasses and crammed them hastily on her face, gazing across the darkened room to see if she could spot the intruder that had awoken her.

"I know you're there!" She snapped clearly to the open room. "Show yourself!"

The darkened room refused to answer her, and Jennifer felt a little silly for yelling for nothing. After taking several calming breaths, she relaxed slightly, mentally telling herself that she had been imaging the little flash of light that jumped from window to the end of her bed.

She slumped back under the covers, bundling down under them to regain that sense that she was safe. Slipping off her glasses, she put them on the nightstand, letting her dull ruby eyes take in the darkness of the room one last time.

It was only a few minutes later when her eyes snapped open of their own accord, and Jennifer felt panic grip her throat. Groggily, her brain tried to wake her, to alert her to whatever her body had sensed was absolute trouble, but Jennifer found it hard to piece any thoughts together.

All that changed when she heard the voice speaking from the dark.

Bolting upright again, the Mayor crammed her glasses back on her face, the slender plastic frames nearly buckling under the force. Gasping for breath, she clutched the blankets around her chest protectively, trying valiantly not to hyperventilate.

Her heart skipped several beats as she took in the sight of the woman standing in front of her; imperious, commanding, cold…familiar.

"Who…who are you?" She asked, voice cracking and wavering up and down the spectrum. Her breath coalesced in the cold air, dissipating quickly into the darkened room.

"Why, you know me."

The voice was exactly the same as the voice she'd heard the day before in her office; the face of the woman in front of her was exactly the same as she'd seen in the mirror. It was as if she was the figure standing before her; Jennifer's panicked mind protested that this wasn't true, but another, still quieter voice fought back against her mind.

"No, that's not true, you're not me!" She squeaked.

"Oh….but I am." The woman purred, her flashing red eyes boring into the Mayor. 'Her' voice was scratchy and hoarse, as if she was unused to speaking Sinnoh Basic or even Common for that matter. "I am you and you are me, together what a pair we'll be."

The words undulated to the tune of a Sinnohsian nursery rhyme, one praying to Cresselia for protection. Jennifer rocked back and forth, feeling as if the woman was grating on her brain itself; a large headache threatened her temples; the Mayor couldn't breathe…

Almost instinctively, she started into the prayer for Cresselia, one that every Sinnohsian was taught since birth. The woman flashed her eyes at the end of the bed and began laughing a high cruel laugh that broke into everything, the Mayor couldn't breathe, her heart leaped to her throat. Their voices mingled and mixed, together to the same beat, each rising in intensity in the deserted room…

"O Cresselia of the moon and light, hear my call, shield me from the darkness-"

"Come now, that's not going to work! I'm you and you're me-"

"-the-the darkness that surrounds me, shield me from the night-"

"-I'm you and you're me, together what a pair we'll be, from mount to tree, you and me-"

"-save me from the nightmares, save me from the darkness, O Cresselia, bringer of light-!"

"-we're a pair, aren't we, together now, you and me-!"

"THAT ISN'T ME!" Jennifer roared, throwing her hand out towards the figure.

The other woman laughed again and dissolved into nothingness as the doors flung open and Mary-Jane broke in, garbed in a long robe, pointing a flashlight wildly. She hurried to the sobbing figure of the mayor as two of her bodyguards began scanning the room for potential intruders, flashlight beams colliding and clashing on the walls.

"That…isn't me…" Jennifer moaned, sagging against the headboard. "…not me….not me…not me….not me…."

December 17, 2000.

North Route 214

6:09 AM

The snowstorm had abated by the early morning, leaving traffic to resume down the south-bound roads at least. Going north was another matter, but a majority of the travelers in the cars wanted out this time of year, seeking refuge in moderate Pastoria, humid Sunyshore or even vacationing to bustling Canalave and the other regions.

One such traveler was a bulky man driving a mid-sized container truck out of Veilstone and down to Pastoria; he was grumbling profusely at the snow and the icy roads, the temperature, and basically everything in general.

With ear piercings, large tattoos on his arms, and unshaven cheeks, he was not the sort of man one wanted to see in a dark alley. His dark brown eyes took in everything; his muscles made up for his lack of a brain. It was not hard to determine what his job was. It was to follow orders.

His companion in the front seat beside him sat with a smile plastered on her face, humming tunelessly to the headphones blaring in her ears. Every so often, she would tap one of her gloved hands on the dashboard, the door, or anything that struck her fancy, including one very memorable time when she'd tried the gearshift.

Her face was nearly completely hidden by the large hood she wore, concealing all but the very tip of her nose. The man driving hadn't even seen her eyes, but he could feel the intensity that seemed to radiate off her slender frame. A dangerous sort of intensity. He was understandably nervous about the woman his boss had forced him to ride with down to Pastoria, but this would be the quickest way to increase his position in the gang. With any luck, after this job was over (and it was such a simple job too!) he'd move up to being able to do more beside carry stuff. Bigger stuff. Stuff like whacking people.

The tough grinned slightly, the movement hidden in this thick beard. His body shivered suddenly, and he ran a gloved hand over his bare arms in an attempt to warm them up.

"By Cressel, can't this fucking heater work right!" He groused, pounding on the heater that was currently blowing cold air into the cramped cabin of the truck. Slamming a fist onto the offending machine, the thug gave up and decided to slump against his door, one hand stroking the back of his neck not covered by a beanie and the other gripping the wheel violently. "Piece of shit….last time I get saddled with one of these Hippowdons…most worthless truck I've ever driven…."

His companion let out a mirthful peal of laughter, and she flicked her gaze to him and then back at the crowded road in front of them.

"You know, it's not the truck's fault." She nodded sagely. "Common Motors stock has dropped recently, culminating in a historic fourth quarter loss of 17%. To answer your question, Padawan, the manufacturer has not been producing as they should, due to competition from Kanto Automotive."

The thug rolled his eyes, grateful that the action was hidden by a pair of sunglasses from the odd woman beside him. His bare arms shivered however, and he shifted to make his fur-trimmed leather vest pretend to cover his shoulders a bit better.

"Yeah, whatever." He grumbled. "As much as the Hippowdons are pieces of shit, you'll never catch me driving one of them prissy imports. I could crush all of those plastic cars with one hand!"

To emphasize, he thrust a hulking paw towards the windshield, cackling a little bit. With the other, he twitched the wheel as they rounded a curve in the road and slipped a bit on the ice. It was easy to regain their bearings…they did not slip.

His companion laughed again, a high grating laugh that was very girlish and breathy. Out of the corner of his eye, the thug noted her hand twitch forward again; raising himself slightly, he relaxed as she traced the simple logo of the carmaker emblazoned on the passenger airbag.

"CM." she stated to the cold cabin. "Common Motors. Now second in overall production worldwide thanks to Kanto Automotive's clever Spearow Hybrid Concept. Sells like Honey, my friend, it sells like Honey."

The thug grumbled again as they trundled over the open plain of Route 214, rapidly approaching the tunnel. "Yeah, sure. Common Motors behind Kanto Automotive? Like that'll ever happen."

His companion laughed again, hidden behind her hood. "It has happened, Padawan."

The truck slowed to a crawl as they approached the line of vehicles waiting to pay their toll and drive through the Route 214 tunnel. Commonly called Ruined Tunnel, due to Pastoria City's lackadaisical upkeep, the tunnel sloped gently down from Veilstone Plateau all the way to the coast of Pastoria. Instead of building a complicated system of bridges to span the steep drop, or a winding mountain road that would limit travel to only one lane, a compromise was reached between Pastoria and Veilstone to build a tunnel. An engineering masterpiece, the tunnel dove into the earth under the plateau, and through a rather scenic series of switchbacks and turns, opened onto the Marsh and then led to Pastoria and the sea.

"Aw, come on!" The driver grumbled as he saw the long line of cars awaiting the tool. "Darkrai's scrawny legs, we're already behind schedule!" He laid on the horn a couple of times, letting the tiny car in front of them feel the blast of the airhorns.

"Don't worry." She replied to the tough. "We'll get to where we're supposed to be on time."

With that, she continued to listen to her headphones, nodding her head to the beat.