Chapter 84: Impending punishment
Early morning
Unova
Striation City
The airport of Striation City boasted the largest airfields in all of Unova. Despite Castelia City being the region's capital metropolis, it was easier to build a gigantic hub surrounded by smaller, village-esque towns. The numerous runways guided cargo planes, private vehicles, military craft and rescue operations. An entirely separate hangar was reserved for emergencies and Skyla personally piloted anyone who could afford the exorbitant amounts of money needed for said emergencies. A faction was also dedicated for the International Police and other authorities. When the Pokemon World tournament took place, all of the champions were flown over in private jets and escorted to a secluded lounge before being shipped off to the south of Driftveil City. This particular morning, Surge, squinting behind his dark sunglasses, hurried through several doors and marched over expanses of marble tiled ground. The airport bustled with life, people moved in and out of shops and kiosks, purchasing last minute necessities or souvenirs. Frowning, he slipped into a restricted area, manned by two burly guards; and pushed open another door. A carpeted corridor branched off to several luxurious lounges. Checking his destination on a leaflet crumpled in his palm, he strode forward and the opaque, glass doors slid aside to let him in. The moment he entered, the rest of his co-workers ogled at him quizzically, Lt. Surge took one look at their attire and cursed fluently.
Taking his wraparound sunglasses off, he swaggered to the wine colored couches and sank his weight into one. A coffee table in front of him held an array of beverages and a remote. Grabbing the remote, he switched on the flat screen television mounted on the opposite wall and flicked through several channels. Most of them contained news and reports about the micro-destructions taking place throughout the different regions. Leaving the news on, he reached for a bottle of juice and leant back after popping open the seal. Hefting his combat boots on the table, he relaxed and heartily drank a long swig of his favorite drink. Lack-2 stared at him in a laconic manner and after enduring the brat's gaze for a good few minutes, Surge turned and graced the teenager with one of his patented glowers. To his credit, the russet eyed youth did not flinch, he did, however, look away after sheepishly combing back his hair.
The news reporter droned on and on about the drought in Hoenn before switching topics to Unova's weather cycles. According to the Seasons Research Laboratory, the population of deerling was reproducing at an alarming rate and threatening the balance of the ecosystem. Since these four legged creatures are capable of adjusting to seasons, their internal biochemistry allowed them to survive the freak weather conditions which killed off the other, less adaptable pokemon. Surge peered at the television with great interest till Lack-2, the darn upstart, shattered his curiosity by voicing the electric gym leader's lack of proper wear. Sighing, the man switched off the monitor and gave his companions a sedated look. Anabel and Falkner were resplendent in their traditional clothing. The cyan haired man wore a kimono jacket over metallic blue threads and his sash contained his family's crest. His hair shaggy hair was fashioned into some sort of topknot which, the soldier inwardly agreed, made him look like the handsome son of some ancient feudal lord. Next to him, Anabel's fuchsia hair was collected into a side ponytail and wreathed in golden thread. She donned a purple patterned kimono and by Zapdos, Surge never knew his superior sported such a ravishing figure. The Unovian brat also wore traditionalist clothing and Surge smirked because the child's face bore misery. He kept on tightening the silk sash around his waist and picking on the golden leaf patterns on his maroon kimono.
"Get dressed." Lack-2 grouched when Surge's grin split his face. "Chief repeatedly ordered you to wear clothing styles the Ransei nobles preferred. Or did a lightning bolt fry your memory as well as your fashion sense?" the boy leered, "I haven't seen you wear anything either than your filthy boots, camouflage pants and that black tank top...And your dog tag...Trust me" the officer slyly grinned, "woman don't find those appealing these days." In response, the blonde man grunted that he didn't have time to change into something resembling a pleated skirt and here, Lack-2 gritted his teeth and gripped the fabric of his black hakama pants. "Go change Surge." The teen's voice dropped dangerously, "we received an invitation to Ransei and we are going there to discuss the punishment given to the Dex-Criminals. They enforced certain terms and we must abide by them. Don't ruin this chance; if you are not dressed properly before the imperial escorts arrive, then we shall leave you here." He turned to the other superintendents who feigned disinterest, "agreed?" Lack-2 asked in a manner which left little to contemplation.
Agreed, they silently agreed.
The Sinnoh Champion completely shunned her co-workers and stared out of the window. She sipped a bottle of fizzy water and forced her mind to edge away from the depressing thoughts swirling in her head. Her reputation of a champion fell under severe scrutiny and the tension aged her. Grandmother joked that if Cynthia went around looking like a blonde icon of misery, she will chase away potential suitors. When her grandma walked in on a video conference while the female champion held a discussion with Anabel on their terms to enter Ransei, the old lady gently apologized to the chief of police and quietly slipped out of her granddaughter's room. Puzzled, because the old woman would rather stay and actively take part in the conversation, Cynthia finished the call and went to her grandmother's chamber only to see the elder opening a trunk and showering the blonde with a multitude of exquisitely decorated kimonos. For the next few hours, the elder demanded the blonde try on each and every article of clothing and finally settled on an attention grabbing blood red kimono with a silver trim. An outer jacket stamped with an antediluvian crest completed her outfit and her grandmother sat her down and pulled her shock of hair into a high ponytail. Nonetheless, when she first arrived at the lounge, Lack-2, who busied himself in scribbling some police report, looked up and gawked at her. His copper tinted eyes, which gleamed blankly most of the time, took on an interested spark as he studied her with what seemed like a perverse smirk. Seconds later, he coughed, oriented his attention back at his work and acted like the incident never happened. Cynthia shrugged; perhaps the image of Lack-2 acting like an awestruck male was simply a figment of her imagination.
She scowled thoughtfully and seated herself next to him...It must be an idea conjured up by her imagination. He'd never do that.
Sighing, Lt. Surge retracted his feet from the table and left little dust prints on the previously flawless surface. "I haven't got any traditional clothing" he gruffly whined. "Threw them out before I head into war...Didn't think I was going to make it out alive so I chucked out all my family heirlooms." Cynthia jolted like she received an electric shock whilst Chief and Falkner spared him an exasperated glance. "What?" he boomed, "Sentimental attachment to things is a sign of weakness, am I right brat?" Lack-2 mechanically nodded and scrawled on his seemingly never ending pile of paperwork...Who does paperwork in an airport lounge anyway? The soldier wondered and decided it was not worth asking the bratty superintendent because the child might end up snarking a rude comment or two. "Fine...I'll go get changed. So who's got a kimono for me?" Anabel clenched her fists so hard; she left crescent shaped indents into her palm. Falkner smiled at her and the anger in her chest dissipated for a bit. Unfurling from her sofa, she motioned for Surge to follow her. Would he be okay in wearing a pink kimono jacket?
Mid-afternoon
Valora
Palace dungeon
Four sentries kept a hawk-eyed watch on the fourteen criminals. When the early morning shift started, the quartet walked into the secret corridor and the cells erupted into a cacophony. Like caged beasts, the convicts shrieked over each other, arguing about sleep, inadequate shower water, the metallic confines and lack of sunlight. Following customs, the imperial wardens peered into each cell and were ironically punished for peeping. One guard had his helmet kicked off by a fuming, indigo haired female and when another escort ventured a bit too close to the bars, a tanned, scarred arm, seized hold of him and the occupant promptly sank her teeth through his metal armor and left marks on his skin. Screeching, he retreated backwards where another blonde haired male kicked him hard in his behind and the guard, balance offset, did a spectacular fall. Shouting at the criminals to be quiet did nothing; it only served to make them louder. When the head warden contemplated on bringing one of Lord Ieyasu's pokemon to threaten this band of outcasts, a man with spiky brown hair tersely uttered a few commands and half of the voices quieted down at once. The remaining rebellious shouts only ceased when another low voice sliced through the high pitched screeching. In a minute, the entire corridor became as silent as a coffin and the guards heaved a sigh of relief. Curious about the one who managed to shush them all down, a lone guard marched to Red's cell and found the individual sitting on the floor. When the fighter turned to face him, the guard whimpered and went back to his post.
It was the famed commoner prisoner, the one who drove all the other patrols crazy by wearing a creepy smile each time someone came to see him. Rumor has it his nonsensical ramblings could drive even Lord Ieyasu crazy and after he escaped from Valora's jails, he managed to single handedly cripple the Lord's undefeated metal monster. The guards hailed the aggron as a half-deity and the beast alone could defend the castle in case of an attack.
The sentinel suppressed a moan. He did not want to think about the consequences should these group of people manage to wriggle themselves out of Valora.
Perhaps, it would be better for them to escape.
In the gloom, Silver's eyes darted about calculatedly and he noted down the formations the sentinels marched in. Very clever, he frowned and checked their posts once more. Despite being only four people, two patrolled the passage, their movements in perfect harmony whilst the other two kept watch over the individual cells and shifted to a new place every few minutes. This arrangement left very few blind spots the red head could exploit and if he succeeded in sticking his fingers in a bodyguard's pocket, it will be futile if the man suddenly moved. Shuffling closer to the entrance of the cell, Silver tucked his head in his arms and peered through the curtain of his hair, if he memorized their routine, it might give him a few ideas to explore. Bit by bit, a pattern emerged in the movements of the four men and he ticked them off on his fingers. Mind tingling, he boldly placed himself right behind the thick bars and glimpsed his sister in the corner of his vision. She waved a predetermined sign and he smirked. Looks like Blue figured out their movements faster than he did. As if on cue, Emerald shattered the previous quietude with a complaint about food and Ruby followed, moaning about lotion and dry skin. This prompted Pearl and Diamond to initiate their comedy routine in blaring tones. The patrolling escorts halted to calm the duo down and the man standing in front of Silver's cell, merely sighed in defeat and rapidly grumbled under his breath. Getting up from his position, the red head stuck his arm out and expertly navigated his hand around the metal armor, holding his breath, his finger skirted over the rough edges and dipped into a soft pocket. Rising up a bit more, he pressed his face against the bar, strained his arm and his digits brushed against a key ring. Desperately clasping the ring, he drew his hand out and fell backwards on the floor.
The watchman turned around.
Silver drew a few shaky breaths and simpered diabolically. The guard briefly touched his scabbard in a subtle warning and the phantom thief used his free hand to insult him by flashing a rude sign. Face turning purple due to sheer anger and frustration, the noble whipped around and Silver exhaled in relief. The next time he wanted to relive stress, he might as well follow Gold's example and show all the uncouth gestures his hands could manage. Slipping the key into his prison issued uniform; he felt the cold metal flush against his bare chest. Exhaling, he climbed into bed and buried his body beneath the sparse blankets. A few hours later, lunchtime will roll around the sentries will leave them alone. The Johto native grinned; he had good news to report.
During lunchtime:
Unfortunately for Silver...The keys did not fit.
"You stole the wrong keys?" Gold asked for the umpteenth time and arched his eyebrows. The top trio retreated deeper into their cells after figuring out that the keys opened something else. Silver's guilt intensified when Blue refused to comment and instead, ate her lunch on her own.
"Senior Gold...Silver tried his best...Please cut him some slack, it's not like he knew what the warden carried in his pocket. At least praise him on a job well done. If you are so heated up, why don't you try stealing for a change?" Whi-2 hotly stated from her cell and angrily stabbed her chopsticks in a piece of meat. Gold sheepishly scratched his nape and inhaled through his nose. He muttered an apology and Silver nodded. If Gold apologized to him then...he could think up the consequences later, right now, he had to find a way out of these cells.
The red head examined the keys; his fingers ran over a multitude of pins and small discs of metal. The pins came in different sizes and shapes. "If I could get some tools, I might be able to fashion a lock pic, unfortunately, it's impossible to do it bare handedly." Leaving his lunchbox on the floor, he slipped a few of the longer pins out and fitted them through the keyhole. Crystal and Gold abandoned their eating and watched him intently. "No good..." he admitted, "I can't get the two of them to fit properly." He sat back down and tinkered with the bunch of keys some more, trying to figure out the purpose. His lunch grew cold and Crystal urged him to finish it. Forlornly flinging the bunch of metal at his bed, he lowered his eyes and forced the meal down. The rest of the members devoured their food and he heard several thunks as the boxes were placed back on the floor. He wondered what to do, if the guard noticed his keys were missing, the nobles might heap more torturous security measures in place. A feeling of hopelessness compressed his ribcage and he found it difficult to breath. Gritting his teeth, he placed the empty steel box on the floor and re-examined the keys. Snatching them from his bed, he painstakingly fed different combinations in the keyhole. His best friends half-heartedly cheered from their cells and a sardonic smile twisted on his lips. Like before, none of keys, or the thin rods helped him. Sweaty and hair damp from exertion, he tossed the keys outside and Gold enquired if he'd gone out of his mind. "It'll raise less suspicion," the silver eyed trainer clarified, "obviously the guard will notice if his possessions go missing, in that case, they might warrant an investigation, if the keys are simply laying in the middle of the corridor, he won't have to open our cells up and search us."
"But won't that present an opportunity?" Crystal asked.
"No, it won't." Silver responded, "...Although, it might give them an excuse to torture us. And they will make sure to bring extra men should any one of us entertain notions of escaping." Blue strode to the forefront of her metallic confinement and a new wave of nausea and guilt washed over him. Fatigued, the thief wished to sleep this nightmare away. The experience of being thrown into prison was not new to him. He spent his childhood locked up in a dingy cell with only his depressing thoughts for company. Periodically, a Team Rocket member and his detestable rhydon harassed him and till today, he had subtle teeth marks on both his arms, reminders of the time when the drill pokemon used him as a chew toy. Silver remembered shivering and trying to wipe the rivulets of blood streaking down his arms. Tears rained from his eyes and fell, stinging the open wounds. Compared to that miserable experience, Valora seemed like a metal plated hotel room. The key he threw, lay a few meters out of reach and suddenly, he wanted to have it back. In the periphery of his vision, his older sister shuffled around aimlessly. At first, the red head paid no attention, bit by bit; he perked up on seeing his sister try to pick the lock. Where she got the tools from, he'd never know, but judging from the fierce concentration on her face, it either worked. Or failed spectacularly. Standing up, Silver pressed his face to the bars and watched, spellbound as the Constellate leader worked on her own, she grabbed the burglar bars and shook it, with a muted pop...the door sprang open.
No one cheered. They were too stunned to speak. Grinning widely at Red who looked like his eyes might pop out, the brown haired woman winked at Silver and retreated back into her cell. With a soft clang, she shut the door.
To no one's surprise, Green recovered first and rapidly fired a question, starting with how she hid lock picks on her person and ending with why she asked Silver to steal a bunch of keys if she had a way to get out of the cell. His viridian eyes glittered with mistrust and to the red head's chagrin, he saw Red mirror the Oak's expression. Usually, the ebony haired commander placated Green if he whaled on Blue, now, his taut visage showed a visible hint of suspicion. "You want to know how I got these things Green?" the female leader sneered, "unlike you and Red who are wallowing in self-despair, I actually buried my feelings and got to work. From the first day we were thrown in here, I kept the camera and managed to steal a pair metal coated chopsticks which they gave me with the lunch box...I think Emerald found a pair as well." The blonde midget nodded and gleefully produced a pair of silver chopsticks. "I asked Silver to steal the keys because I was not confident in my ability to fashion something workable with the things I had. But after I saw the plan to swipe the keys failed and my poor brother, who is far more resourceful than you two morons, actually tried to pick the locks; I decided to give a go." She viciously glared at her two friends who shrunk under her sharp stare. "Rald told me he found magnets in the camera. At first I was puzzled but eventually it made sense. Valora relies heavily on electromagnetism and that's why the locks wouldn't open. Those flat disks on the keys are magnets. You need them to open almost any lock here." After her speech, Green eyed her with renewed respect and Red merely shrugged. "No need to thank me..." she griped, "I did my part, now, the two of you put your Mew forsaken heads together and think of a way out of here. And no Oak, I do not want a standing ovation!"
She whirled away from the bars, her matted hair flaring behind her; and stalked back to her bed. Opposite her, Red and Green clapped akin to mechanical dolls and broke into a hushed conversation. Gold, toyed with the sash around his waist, got up and joined in the discussion. Drained and slightly woozy from the scene he just witnessed, Silver wobbled to his bed and climbed in. Hopefully by tomorrow, the leaders of Strategy and Execution might figure something out, however, from the loud, strung up voices clashing at each other, he highly doubted a solution to their predicament might come so easily.
Late evening
Ransei
Dragnor
Peering at Surge, Lack-2 agreed with the blonde soldier that he will never get used to such elaborate settings. Lacquered beams held up a ceiling at triple height, paper sliding doors depicted surreal art, the paintings so beautiful, it robbed one's breath away. Dragnor nestled in the grip of a massif. The range of mountains also served as a home to ancient dragons, by now, most of the wryms were hunted to extinction and only the oldest and most powerful ones held on to their meager territory. Craggy caverns and rolling hillsides juxtaposed beautifully and tumbling waterfalls softened the sheer cliffs. The superintendents landed at Spectra, as requested by Nobunaga, before a war blimp shipped them to Dragnor. Surge, who appeared threatening in a pale pink kimono jacket, boomed the old coot wanted to scare them. Whether it was for intimidation purposes or not, Lack-2 and the other officers appreciated the timeless scenery sprawling out like a multicolored carpet. Soaring over a sea of golden roofs, which glinted brilliantly in the dying sunlight, Lack-2 saw steeples rising all around them, their bricks were black stone. The ship landed at a port, a bustling terminal winking with lights, people and pokemon. Irritably hitching up his pants, Lack-2 tightened the sash and smoothed out the folds of silk. Unlike him and his blonde co-worker, the other superintendents glided out of the ship and off the heavily decorated gangplank. Their beasts lumbered after them carefully, wary to be travelling over such long distances without being cooped up in a pokeball. The air in Dragnor smelled ancient. It smelt of bricks, burnt dust tickled the Unovian's nose and beneath this tint, the officer imagined dragon fire, charring the surroundings into charcoal.
He waited patiently behind Cynthia and observed how the noblemen cast glances at her. Perhaps it was Falkner's presence, but very few males dared to look at their chief. Surge garnered the most looks, the retainers, donned in midnight black silk and faces obscured behind a satin clothes mask, quickly averted their gazes away when the Kanto native trained his electric blue eyes on them. Tired from the journey and wanting to slip out of his breezy kimono, Lack-2 turned around and beheld the towering pagoda of Dragnor Castle, even from a distance; the sheer size of the royal domicile befuddled his mind. An obelisk of black stone was planted on the side of the castle and the surface shimmered like gold. The palace's roofs were adorned with precious metal. When he finally stepped over the traditional gate leading into the castle, he suppressed a gasp; the golden finery displayed in the vestibule blinded him.
The servants and retainers of Lord Nobunaga ushered the superintendents into a spacious meeting room. By now, Lack-2's head swam with everything he witnessed. The chamber was entirely leafed in gold and the roof stretched endlessly upwards. Paper lanterns, clustered together, held flames in an array of colors. Mauve and orange fire complimented each other, bathing the room in a muted glow and a foreboding chill. Shifting on the cushion he reclined on, the Unovian sipped a mug of green tea and suppressed his disgust for the watery beverage. The police waited for the Castle's Lord to make an appearance and the chief daintily drank her share of tea. Speaking of etiquette, Surge gulped a mouthful of the green slosh and promptly dumped his ceramic mug on the low wooden table. Anabel eyed him deplorably and he simply glued his eyes to a wall scroll. It showed Zekrom rendered in ink, the image depicted the dragon legendary perfectly and Surge, hypnotized by the painting, stared at it thoughtlessly. A door at the back of the room slid open and Lord Nobunaga waltzed in, with his wife and a three headed hydreigon at his heels. Lack-2 blinked, he imagined the supreme ruler of Dragnor to be some wizened old man, certainly not the muscular middle aged person who stood before them. As customs dictated, the police officers rose in unison and bowed down to him. Three other individuals drifted in after Nobunaga. A hulking man mountain, his armor creaking with each step, a pale faced man whose long hair swung in a high ponytail and an adolescent wearing an eye patch. Wordlessly, they trooped inside and assumed strategic places in the meeting room
Nobunaga sat behind the table, somehow, the flames washed over his face and for a brief moment, his shining ebony irises seemed to suck the light out of the room. Lady Noh demurely covered her face and Lack-2 tore his gaze away from her.
No, he admonished his conscious; he wasn't interested in seeing her face. Her eyes, dark and lustrous like her husband's, shone with trace of profound sadness.
"It is a pleasure to have you here, superintendents of the International Police." Droned Nobunaga in the most unwelcome way possible, Anabel nearly flinched, they were not allowed here, she knew, and moreover, she chipped away their pride by repeatedly asking them to house commoner convicts. "Although, the first criminal you tasked us to handle, gave the Lord of Valora a very difficult time...And he managed to escape." The warlord hissed, a murderous intent slithering in the soft lilt of his voice, "Tell me, Chief Anabel, do you think it is courteous of you to ask us another favor? Valora is not a jail cell for the convicts you cannot handle." Hydreigon growled gently on his lap and he stroked one of the heads. "It is shameful to us...Humiliating to Lord Ieyasu to house a bunch of monkeys...However, I deviate...I am sure you have a very good reason to demand that we keep those commoners here." Nobunaga paused and the air in the room grew suffocatingly thick. "Well...Do you?" He snapped and this time, Anabel flinched.
The fuchsia haired woman composed herself before structuring a reply. The capering flames dancing against the paper screen doors magnified the Lords' shadows into grotesque shapes. "I deeply apologize for bringing such ignominy to you, however, as you stated, these people are an extremely dangerous group of criminals and their scope of crimes goes beyond our reach. We have evidence..." Anabel halted and quickly peeked at the Lord of Nixtorm, the pale man sat with his lips pressed into a thin line, obviously unhappy to be attending a meeting during the middle of the night. "That...the convict escaped because he had help from the nobles of Ransei." Nobunaga's eyebrows shot up and joined his hairline. In response to his master's sudden change in emotions, the three headed beast rose up and critically eyed the guests. "To preserve the integrity of this meeting, I shall not mention names and besides, it does not matter anymore since we recaptured them." Losing interest because the pink haired woman blathered on and on about those criminals, the Warlord of Dragnor peered at the other officers with discreet interest. He recognized Lack-2, the officer who handled all the paperwork during the criminal's deployment, premature wrinkles lined the boy's face and the child frowned to himself. Next to him, Nobunaga veered his eyes away from a blonde eyesore. His tourmaline gaze landed on another female, this one wearing a blood red kimono. He grinned.
The woman was exquisitely beautiful for a lowly commoner.
"My Lord," Noh murmured from behind him, "are you listening?" The Warlord twitched and focused on the chief's words. He had prior knowledge about the Dex Criminals; they were the ones responsible for tainting his dark dragon stone. A throb of anger shot through his body and he waited till the female police officer finished with her speech. In the meantime, he wondered who the traitor was; certainly none of the alliance members would betray him would they? His eyes clicked to Mitsuhide who coolly held his gaze.
"I understand." Nobunaga held up his hand. When Anabel finished, his previous anger morphed into surprise and then back to boiling wrath. How dare those damned outcasts cause such a disaster! According to the chief, they managed to capture all the prominent legendary pokemon, save for the creation titans; the upstarts summoned Dialga, Palkia and eventually, Giratina to force open a path to the distortion world. What they did there remained a mystery but Anabel described that the legendary pokemon burst out of the pocket dimension and created a tunnel leading directly to the distortion world. Apparently, this scar hung in the sky, atop Mount Coronet's peak. "They are responsible for disordering the delicate balance of the world...It is now clear why the legendary creatures do not answer to us." A pregnant silence hung between the occupants of the room. "We came together to discuss their punishment." The dragon Warlord quietly stated, "I have to warn you that our punishment is harsh. It is unbefitting to ask my comrade to retain those felons in his castle...So...I propose you bring them here."
The silence grew heavier, more uncomfortable.
On the supreme Warlord's right side, Mitsuhide shifted his stance ever so lightly; his legs were numb from holding his weight. "Lord Nobunaga...We all agreed that keeping those commoners is a disgrace and yet, you suggest they defile your palace?" An indescribable smirk ghosted over the icy man's face before melting into nothingness. "They have committed terrible crimes-"
"You do not understand the gravity of their felony Mitsuhide." The dragon tamer articulated huskily, "Because Arceus rests in this region; all the other mythical creatures pay tribute to this land. Tell me, have Regice or Articuno visited you in the last few years?" Nobunaga's irises glinted viciously when the man failed to respond. "I suppose not. The Dex Criminals need to be punished. Severely."
Lt. Surge, weary of the political debate and wishing for this meeting to end, heartily yawned and both his companions and the visiting Warlords eyed him scandalously. "Alright..." he roughly voiced. "You want them to come to Dragnor; therefore you are responsible for shipping them over here." Lack-2 moaned at his uncouth way of speaking and Nobunaga arched an eyebrow, not wanting to believe a mere commoner addressed him in such a manner. "However, you should at least give them a fair trial. Those are our conditions and we will make sure you uphold them. Some of the members in the organization are brats, kidnapped and forced to do atrocious deeds against their will. Not their problem. You give them a fair chance and thereafter you punish them. Humanely." The soldier added, his blue eyes glowing like glacier ice. "A life time of scrubbing your floors or feet seem fine don't you think?" Indignation erupted in Nobunaga's chest like an active volcano, he had a good mind to add this eyesore to the list of convicts and the other officers appeared positively sick by Surge's behavior. "I am tired and I'll be leaving first. Have a good night Warlord Nobunaga." The blonde got up and performed a stiff bow. Lack-2 uncurled from his position, carelessly bowed and hurried out after Surge. As for Anabel, Cynthia and Falkner, all three faces were paler by three shades.
"Please forgive his misconduct." Anabel hurriedly apologized and threw herself into a bow. "He is a soldier who took part in the Kanto civil war and he shuns traditions-"
"Leave." The Warlord commanded. His low voice sharper than a knife's edge. "I will only see you on the day of the trial." He leaned back and folded his arms. Any form of negotiation the police wanted to conduct, spiraled down the drain. Swallowing the lump in her throat, Cynthia dipped her head respectfully and left, her skin prickled, she did not like the way Nobunaga leered at her. Anabel and Falkner exited last, the sliding doors slid shut and the Warlord exhaled.
Three other men budged on their cushions and eyed the black armor clad man absentmindedly stroking the brutal pokemon slumbering in his lap. "Sire...Are you going to uphold the International Police's requests?" The Warlord of Avia voiced, his single brown eye lacked the usual, cheerful sparkle.
"Of course not." Nobunaga breathed and Noh lowered her eyes. "Those outlaws tainted the dark dragon stone. No matter what I try, I cannot coax Zekrom to join me. The dragon refuses to come out. And it is all their fault. If Hideyoshi, that monkey, manages to rally an army and march to the north, there is a fair chance he might dethrone me." Inhaling sharply, he dismissed the meeting and the alliance members got up to leave, their decorative armor pieces creaking with each movement. "Lord Ieyasu?" Dragnor's ruler called and the man turned to face him. "Have your retainers transfer those offenders to Dragnor's dungeons as soon as possible."
"...But-"
The Warlord simply smiled knowingly, his mordant expression quelling further arguments.
A/N: Ah Surge, my favorite whacko, he's the only person to make fun of the nobles and come out alive. Poor Silver though, stealing the wrong keys (he does not compute.) Much thanks to all those who read and reviewed, virtual triple German chocolate cake to all. (Haven't tasted it but anything with triple chocolate in it is bound to be good."
At AceTrainerLeaf: Human dictionary? Naw, Google is my best friend. Heh, L-2 is basically fastening dead bolts to their cages…but, you could see how it all plays out :P Hmm, I guess there is an age gap between them but for some reason, I kinda see it working. Ruby would be the one who is all caught up in his fashionista work and Blue would remind him to eat and rest. As for typing my chapters out before hand, it's to prevent reviewers from swaying me in my work (I mean, some of you have some mighty fine ideas…and why didn't I think of them earlier?) Therefore, in order to stick to my story, I end up typing a sizable chunk of my story before posting. If I see an awesome idea, I incorporate it later on (who can resist?) Also, typing beforehand helps me in structuring the flow of the story. At Jack54311: Just wondering what my parents would do if I was one of them…le shudder. I'd be condemned to a fate worse than death. But yeah, they are criminals and justice shall be served.
At Silver: I need milkshake or an iced coffee, or even better, both. In an alternate story line, your Lack-2 prediction was spot on :D Congrats, but that is another, non-existent story. Platina is actually shackled; she has no idea of what is going on outside Ransei. Poor, poor girl. Norman on the other hand…heh. Leafy warlord (lol) washed his hands free. In this chapter I allude to him but Anabel wrongly assumes that Mitsuhide helped Red escape instead of Motonari. At Charon: *Puts hands up* Don't shoot! I had electricity and internet problems and hence, the chapter came out late. But I hope you enjoy it.