In hindsight, Lance should probably have asked Agatha to meet Ash last. He had brought up in a meeting with the other members of the Elite Four (a misnomer for those in the know) that he wanted Ash to start interacting with people more, since Anabel had managed to at the very least soften the shell he forged to combat human interaction before. Lorelei had been openly interested in helping with Ash's schooling and Bruno his typical stoic self, but Lance hadn't expected the dry chuckles from Agatha and an insistence on meeting the boy as soon as she could. She was so eager to meet him, it seemed, that she was following Lance as he went to check up on Ash immediately after their meeting.
"Wouldn't it be better to give him some warning of a visitor?" Lance tried, though he was resigned to succumbing to the older trainer's stubbornness.
Just as he expected, Agatha simply scoffed. "You coddle the boy, Lance," she said. "It is more welcome than ignoring him, but one day he will have to meet other people without being briefed on them all and it is healthy for him to start getting used to unexpected visitors now. I do know how to behave myself around children, you know."
Lance decided not to point out that Agatha hadn't really interacted with a child in years and that the last time she had, the boy had run away with tears in his eyes.
When they arrived in front of the now familiar doors, Agatha wasted no time in banging on them with the bottom of her cane. Lance could feel Mewtwo's agitation in his frenetic scan of his mind; Agatha's quiet cackling told Lance that she felt his panic as well (and relished it). Before Mewtwo could open the door, Agatha strode in, a faint snicker echoing through her shadow. Lance sighed before following suit.
Lance might have tried to tone down his aura, but Agatha certainly didn't. Her shadow shifted and blinked before embracing her legs, lapping at her shoes as though she were walking through a puddle of oily, liquid darkness. Eyes blinked from the pool of unnatural darkness at her feet.
Ash didn't seem unnerved by this at all. If anything, he seemed intrigued, though Mewtwo was frozen as he stared at the living shadow. Lance made a mental note to somehow accustom Mewtwo to the reality-destroying beings that were Ghosts as soon as he could.
"You, boy," Agatha said. Lance bit back his immediate urge to tell her to stop and to shield Ash behind himself.
Ash said nothing but looked Agatha in the eye. There was a challenging glint in his gaze; Lance almost groaned out loud at his nerve.
Agatha stared back balefully before bursting into loud cackles. The shadow at Agatha's feet suddenly formed into her two Gengar, who joined in her dry mirth, wrapping themselves around her legs and snickering into her ears. She chuckled at some unintelligible hiss that one uttered before sinking back into her shadow, soon followed by the other.
"You'll do well not to lose that boldness, child," she said. Agatha turned back to Lance. "I've seen enough. I return to my domain and my own children. Let me know if you require my assistance." She walked out of the room; one of the Gengar coalesced again and gave Ash one last high-pitched breath of a laugh before melting away and vanishing.
Lance, Ash, and Mewtwo all stood in silence for a couple of seconds after Agatha's departure. Finally, Lance sighed, breaking the forged tension.
"I'm sorry about Agatha. She does quite enjoy terrifying anyone and everyone that she meets. I can assure you that you won't have to interact with her too much, at least, until you want to learn her specific craft. The other local Elites and I will be taking over your basic education before the other Kanto Masters arrive for our annual meeting."
Ash just blinked up at him.
'Meet-new-face new-face-new-face bad?-scared?-uncertain? what-do-confused-what-do-wh—'
"You'll both be fine, Mewtwo. I've asked them to include you in the education as I'm sure you will be more than interested in it. Lorelei plans to teach you the basics that all children should learn—maths, basic language, some history. Bruno will help you train your body as well as your control; it might be a bit over your head at this point but it will be just as useful in the future. If you'd like, I can sit in the first few sessions with both of them, and I'm more than happy to alert them if you are feeling uncomfortable at any point."
Mewtwo said nothing, though the relief in his expression was surprisingly easy to read. He nodded fervently, which Lance was tempted to chuckle at.
"How would you feel about starting your classes in a couple of days?" Lance proposed. "I don't want to spring new people on you so suddenly, but Bruno is insistent that you must start your training with him soon and he can be just as impatient as anyone else. I will gather you in the morning and take you to the basic training grounds that we have available in this building. Does that sound good?"
Ash just nodded. Mewtwo's presence flickered into Lance's head to blare affirmation.
Lance nodded back. "Good. I'll leave you to your own devices now. I hope you find your lessons as enjoyable as you can."
Ash nodded again, unknowing to the dread with which most students viewed schoolwork. Lance had a feeling that he would soon know of that quintessential boredom.
Sure enough, within the week, Ash was dragging his feet to his lessons with Lorelei.
The Ice Master was not a harsh taskmaster like some tutors might have been. She was strict, to be sure, but fair and tried to customize her lessons to better suit the student that she had. Or rather, students. Mewtwo turned out to be a far more intrigued pupil and insisted on accompanying Ash to lessons solely so that he could also partake in them. Many times had Lance walked past the room that he had set up as their makeshift classroom (it had previously been an unused office space, and really, the League was purposefully built to be large and imposing and have many unused rooms, so what was the point of keeping that one empty?) to find Ash staring blankly at a sheet of paper while Mewtwo had grabbed hold of a pencil with his mind and was feverishly writing with it. As Lance watched, the wood of the pencil suddenly splintered and Mewtwo frustratedly dropped the now useless writing implement, picking up another one and brushing the two halves into a small pile that was forming. For her part, Lorelei seemed vaguely amused by both of her students and was carefully explaining something on Ash's worksheet to him, though he didn't seem to understand. After a little bit, Lorelei seemed to sigh and say something to Ash that perked him up and sent up running out of the door. Mewtwo got up slightly more reluctantly to chase after him. As Lorelei rearranged the worksheets, Lance knocked on the doorframe to alert her to his presence.
Of course, given the always-alert Froslass that floated at Lorelei's side, he probably didn't even need to give her the warning.
Lorelei nodded at him, barely looking up from her simple task. "How can I help you, Lance?" she asked.
"I just wanted to check in on Ash's progress," he said.
She chuckled at that; Froslass gave a similar sound that spoke of the whisper of pines in a frigid breeze. "He's doing as well as I'd expect him to. Impatient when it comes to work, though that is to be expected from a child as energetic as he—have you thought to give him an intake?"
Lance was slightly taken aback. "An intake? What for?"
Lorelei sighed to herself. "Of course, you haven't. Why would you? I suspect that a lot of Ash's distracted nature and energy comes from undiagnosed childhood ADHD. I don't think it is severe enough to warrant medication of any kind, but knowing if that's the cause would make it easier to plan lessons around him as well as give him some reassurance that it isn't expected of him to sit still and be able to focus."
Lance blinked. Lorelei's casual diagnosis definitely made sense. In fact, it made so much sense that Lance felt foolish for not noticing earlier. It was almost routine for most children to get an intake prior to starting their journeys, if only to diagnose possibly emerging mental problems so that prescriptions could be written before children were lost to nature. It might have been Ash's age that made Lance forget; the boy was so young, after all, and the typical child getting a routine intake was twice his age in years.
Lorelei smirked slightly at his dumbfounded expression. "I expect you'll have more to talk about with Sabrina than you originally thought," she quipped before handing Lance a sheet of paper. A quick glance at it revealed that it was Ash's report card equivalent. "I gave him a quick preview of Kanto's history today. He seemed most intrigued by the concept of war between pokémon and humans. You may be nudged about this later. Also, might I suggest that you confer with someone to teach him some basic etiquette? While Ash is doing remarkably well under the circumstances, he really needs to work on basic manners. He's not a rude child, just one that doesn't know how to act quite often, from what I can tell, and none of us have any time to mentor him in such a way. Perhaps you could ask Master Samuel? He has a grandson around Ash's age; it might do him well to meet another child and learn to get along with someone that isn't Anabel."
Lance sighed out a chuckle. "Once again, Lorelei, you prove to me your intelligence," he admitted. "I'll look into both an intake and perhaps ask the Professor if he'd be willing to talk to Ash—and I'm sure he would—at the upcoming meeting."
Lorelei made a slight face. "Ah, yes. Why must we continue with the charade that we only meet during those few days every year?"
Lance snorted. "People need to think we have some sort of structure."
Lorelei gave a noncommittal hum. "Regardless." She briskly moved on. "Now, Mewtwo? A fascinating specimen, you must also admit. He absorbs knowledge like a sponge and dispenses it just as quickly. Right away he was able to understand the nuances of the wars, despite being as tripped up by the concept of war between humans and pokémon as Ash was. He is also a much more willing student, which makes tutoring the two a bit more relaxing than it otherwise would have been. I don't have too much to report on him, so I'll give you the physical report tomorrow with the two days' progress on it. If you're interested, I believe I sent Ash off to his physical training with Bruno; he was thinking about incorporating all of the pokémon today. It might be enlightening for you to watch."
"Really? I might just stop by, then." Lance gave Lorelei one final nod. "Thank you again for helping me."
"It truly is my pleasure, Lance," Lorelei said. She straightened her papers with one last firm movement before leaving the room without much fanfare. Lance still held Ash's daily report in his hand, and he pulled a chair out from the table to look at it more carefully.
Despite what Lorelei had said about a potential learning disability, Ash had covered at least a month's worth of material in the past couple of weeks, though perhaps that said more about her teaching skills than it did his learning skills. He seemed to understand but not enjoy arithmetic, his writing skills and grammar were atrocious (and were even marked as his greatest educational handicap), and apparently had entered Lorelei's lessons already knowing so much martial history that someone had to have educated him in it already. That wasn't to say that his understanding was too advanced; Ash knew far too much about the motivation of some of the wars that marked Tohjo's past, but he didn't know the nuances of war the way that a teenager might begin to understand. Lorelei hadn't started testing him on his biology knowledge yet, though Lance had a suspicion that Ash intimately knew the details of those pokémon that were constantly around him and wouldn't care about too many others.
Lance huffed out a breath as he stood up, folding the report in half and sticking it into his pocket. It would go into a manila folder in his office with all of his other daily reports, but he decided to head to the courtyard to see what Bruno really was up to.
The courtyard that Bruno had chosen for his lessons was hidden deep within the League and could only be accessed by those who knew it existed and had been led into it by another person. It was smaller than most of the other spaces that the League held, but it was noteworthy in its location—three hallways started in the courtyard and led down into personal rooms for the Masters, whenever they were to visit. Of course, only four of them were occupied regularly; all of the other Masters opted to stay in other cities, watching over their section of the region and masquerading as weaker versions of themselves to challenge wandering trainers. Lance still wasn't sure why Bruno had chosen this part of the inner sanctum to teach Ash; there were training grounds with packed earth and equipment that had been prepared for trainees, and despite Ash being so young he could technically be considered as such.
It was just cresting late afternoon now, and shadows were beginning to lengthen. All of Ash's pokémon were present—Amber and Egg were alert, sitting up and staring at the two humans with enthusiasm. Program seemed to be lazily floating in the air, a mass of visual static this time. Fossil scuttled around their feet, apparently more amused by the seeds that blew through the air occasionally. Ash and Mewtwo stood in front of Bruno, postures relaxed but still tense as though waiting for the Fighting Master to dash at them without any warning.
The grass whispered around Lance's feet. Mewtwo seemed to notice and was about to look over when the Pancham that had been following Bruno around snapped at him, chattering angrily while still sitting legs crossed. Mewtwo looked infinitesimally more uneasy then and shot Lance what he thought was an apologetic look before closing his eyes and letting his head hang loosely.
"Find the connection," Bruno said, his voice hoarse from lack of use. "It must lead from you and to your friends, your comrades, your family. Even if they are not here, you should be able to feel them. Their hearts beat with you, their souls resonate with your own—can you hear it, Ash?"
The boy nodded silently.
"Speak. Let your voice echo."
"Yes," Ash whispered, enraptured by Bruno's words.
"You know this as Aura. We who are not gifted with the sight know this as friendship, fellowship. It is foolish to believe that any talk of a bond with your pokémon is metaphorical—we are forged through the connections, and the Aura is our guide. It will connect you to everything and everyone, if you let it. You must be careful, though, for to be connected with the world is to allow the world to connect to you. That is dangerous, Ash, and you must keep in mind that you are opening yourself up to frailty by connecting to the world and that you are closing your mind to that free-flowing power by disconnecting yourself. There is no good or bad in the world, only pain, and you must be careful not to cause it when you choose not to."
A moment of silence passed. Lance felt as though he was trespassing on some moment, as though if he were to take another step forward the earth would tremble and swallow him whole for such indiscretions. Lance hadn't gotten his position by being a headstrong mess though—at least, not all of the time—and as such he was content with standing and waiting for the others in the courtyard to acknowledge his presence and allow him entry into their training session.
His patience was timely awarded. Bruno did not say anything to him but merely held up a welcoming hand. Lance nodded at the gesture and took a step or two forward.
"I see that you have had some success, Bruno," he said neutrally.
"Quite. He is open to the more scholarly teachings and wants to know more. Both are necessary in this path forward. Today we see what it is that they can do and tomorrow we refine them while teaching them the philosophies required to hone one's body. They are precocious; it is good."
Lance nodded. "Would you mind if I watched?" he asked.
Bruno shook his head before turning back to Ash. The boy had a look of determination on his face.
"One at a time. Show me your skill."
Ash nodded before taking a few steps back, Mewtwo matching him.
"Fossil," the boy said. Without missing a beat, the Kabuto scurried in front of him, evidently ready to demonstrate his skill.
Bruno flicked his wrist downwards, revealing a Pokéball that bounced on the ground to release the hulking figure of a scarred Machamp. Lance knew enough about the creature to debunk most of the mythos surrounding him (that he was drugged into his strength, that he was somehow part-Psychic and could fling a lesser pokémon across the room with his mind alone), but that didn't prevent him from being an imposing presence. Bruno had been able to match one of Lance's highly trained Dragonite with Machamp alone. He was well deserving of the respect and reputation that he held.
Machamp looked down at the boy and his strange pokémon companion, and then at the tiny Kabuto in front of him. He gave Bruno a distinctly unimpressed look.
Bruno said nothing in response, but that didn't prevent Machamp from relaxing and taking a defensive stance. Bruno looked over to Ash, gesturing for him to continue.
Ash didn't say words to communicate to his pokémon. He gave a single sharp trill, followed by a sharp open-mouthed growl to cut it off, and immediately Fossil responded, pressing his claws into the earth to crack the ground and summon up spires of rock. The Kabuto followed this up by releasing streams of green tendrils that dove into the ground and emerged at the base of the rock spires, traveling up seamlessly until it reached the tips, at which point the tendrils relentlessly continued onward, half of them latching onto Machamp while the other half wove into themselves, creating a net of sorts. After the display of power, Fossil nervously crawled back and forth, either in an attempt to make himself less open to attack or in an expression of its actual anxiety in the situation.
It was a complex move devoid of any extraneous movement, which implied that Ash, or more likely someone else, had worked with Fossil to develop it. It was a complex trap that played to all of the Kabuto's strengths and left very little room for weakness to show, and any lesser pokémon, even those stronger than the small rock-water-type would have found themselves helpless for just a second too long, setting themselves up for an additional attack. It was a smart move, a strategic move, and not one that any small child would have come up with.
Bruno's shoulders stiffened. Lance knew the man enough to read that he was surprised in that single action, but it quickly faded away.
"Break free," he instructed. Machamp grunted before allowing the tendrils to wrap fully around one set of arms and flexing them, throwing them to his sides. A typical pokémon would have been more trapped in the energy-stealing vines, but Machamp was undeterred as he broke free of practically all of them in a single movement and stepped forward, bringing his other set of arms down to destroy the sharp stones that faced him. He gave Fossil a jeering smile as the Kabuto more frantically darted back and forth. His nervousness was definitely showing now.
"Again. A different maneuver."
Ash looked lost; the complex combination move was more than likely enough to hold any attackers back and allow him room to run away. Ash wasn't taught to battle for the thrill of clashing powers together but for survival, where all rules were cast away in the face of living tomorrow. Fossil knew little other techniques or maneuvers simply because with his strangely prodigious power, he didn't need to. Of course, Bruno didn't settle for survival.
"Ten seconds," Bruno warned. A note of panic entered Ash's gaze. He glanced from side to side, obviously floundering.
Bruno didn't need to command Machamp for him to surge forward with a single fluid motion, aimed towards Fossil. The smaller pokémon froze for a second before loudly screeching at the fast approaching pokémon, spraying a series of small immaterial balls of faint prismatic light in front of him. Machamp snorted at the weak Confuse Ray before he imbued one of his many fists with frozen energy and whipped it sideways. The Ice Punch defense was strong enough to deflect the move into the ground where it was reduced to immaterial dust. Fossil then seemed to panic further, actually audibly squeaking for the first time that Lance had heard him, and dove onto the ground, his shell giving off an uncanny sheen. Machamp gave another grunt before kicking Fossil off of the ground, rendering his Harden ineffective and sending him careening into Ash's arms. The force of the heavy pokémon sent Ash to the ground, where he landed with a solid "OOF!" as his breath was effectively knocked out from him.
Lance winced for Ash. Kabuto weren't exactly light pokémon.
Ash struggled to get up, forcing Fossil's dazed and unconscious form off of himself. He looked up at Bruno with only a touch of fear and a great deal of awe. Bruno, for his part, continued to look on impassively, though an air of satisfaction entered his posture.
"A strong base. Next."
Egg clambered forward without Ash's prompting. The Pikachu was already quivering with excitement, ready to test himself out against the wall of flesh that Machamp was being.
Ash took a determined stance, pointing forcefully as he made a strange buzzing noise with his teeth. Egg gave a cry of affirmation before dashing forward, practically becoming a yellow blur in his haste. The air crackled with some sort of energy and echoed in a faint sonic boom as Egg summoned lightning and leapt onto the ground, sending a weak wave of electricity crackling through the grass. When it touched Machamp, he snorted and stomped his foot to regain the feeling in it. Egg leapt into the air—at his peak, he seemed to somersault before transitioning into a quick spin that whipped his tail, sending a ball of electricity towards Machamp at high speeds. The second that Egg touched down, he started moving again, darting back and forth across the battlefield in an attempt to throw Machamp off. For his part, Machamp simply re-summoned Ice Punch and punched the Electro Ball squarely in its center, releasing the pent-up energy into the air, though he still winced and shook his hand out to regain its feeling. The moment that he did, Egg gave a triumphant cry that Ash echoed and darted forward again, running between his legs just as he summoned a rather weak bolt of electricity down onto Machamp. The fighting-type grimaced as he crouched into a readied squat, eyes subconsciously squinting at the attack.
Lance was suspicious of Machamp's demeanor. The fighting-type in general had a reputation for seeming to be pure muscle, sheer force that was tamed by a trainer. In fact, many trainers treated their fighting-type pokémon as mindless brutes, teaching them to listen for the exact inflections and meanings of their commands. Many a successful human had managed to hone their fighting-types into living reflexes, pokémon that acted before the trainer said anything, an extension of a body part that was summoned to an arena.
However, there was a reason that those trainers were mere trainers and Bruno was Kanto's Fighting Master. Bruno acknowledged that intelligence was not a fighting-type's strength, but he also firmly believed that a fighting-type's strength wasn't in its physical presence, either.
Bruno fully recognized that the fighting-type's strength was in its will, its focus, and its desire for honor and respect from those it considered above them. In recognizing that, Bruno didn't just teach his pokémon how to attack efficiently before he even spoke or how to harness their inner power to devastating consequences. He took it a step further: he taught his pokémon strategy and human instinct, turning his team from a set of reliable pokémon into eerie, uncanny valley creatures that acted as though they were human, though they would just as willingly follow any instructions that Bruno himself gave them. Even in his commands, Bruno focused on pointing out problems and then simply allowed his team to figure out for themselves how to solve them.
Machamp was acting like a pokémon. He wasn't acting like a man.
Suddenly, the massive behemoth moved and though his speed was nowhere near the practically invisible Pikachu's, it was definitely faster than a creature of such bulk should be able to move. Machamp didn't smack Egg away the way he did Fossil; he swiftly slid his leg in an arc, and though it shouldn't have been possible somehow the giant pokémon knew exactly where Egg would be sprinting because the yellow blur that had been charging around the field was suddenly flying through the air with a shriek. Egg crashed onto the ground with a loud huff, not quite unconscious but looking woozy from being punted through the air and slamming down. Ash let out an uncertain yelp, a question hanging in the air. Egg coughed a response back, picking himself up, tail twitching in pain. He shook his head, trying to shake off his dizziness. Machamp just stood patiently, back to standing in the ready stance he was in prior to tripping the Pikachu.
Bruno watched impassively as Egg stood on all fours, shaking from exertion.
"Again. A different maneuver," he repeated.
Ash seemed to wise up to the game now. He trilled sharply, and Egg called back, their voices different pitches in the harmony of battle. Egg blurred out of existence again, this time calling upon an overwhelming wave of electricity before zooming back and forth. He was much more visible now: his form flickered within the shell of light that he conjured, and the crackling wasn't anywhere near loud enough to mask the determined snarls that Egg uttered with every step. Before, Egg tried to be everywhere at once, laying a web of sparks that, when triggered, invited a sudden but weak attack. Now, he was a comet that streaked across the ground, making the grass pop when he stepped on it and leaving behind a trail of smoke.
Machamp grunted and crouched lower. As Egg approached, he shifted his position such that he presented a leg towards the Pikachu. Instinctively, Egg sprinted towards the limb. It made sense: as an extremity, a leg was most likely to buckle under the force that he built up from running about, and it was much easier to paralyze as any insulating fat was in the body itself, especially in a muscled fighting-type like Machamp.
It seemed as though Egg and Ash hadn't learned quite quickly enough.
The second that Egg dashed at Machamp, he subtly shifted his posture. Egg found himself running up Machamp's leg rather than running into it, and the small pokémon froze as he clung to Machamp's shoulder, a half a foot away from the suddenly smirking fighting-type's face. Machamp merely swatted him off of the shoulder as though he were a pesky fly, sending Egg crashing to the floor painfully again.
"Again, a different maneuver."
Without a command from Ash, Egg stood up, snarled, and ran at Machamp again. Recognizing the entire thing as an act of futility, Lance quietly walked around the courtyard and approached Bruno from behind. The Fighting Master gave no indication of noticing that he was there, though Pancham turned and chattered at him quietly.
"You are testing his durability and ingenuity." A statement, not a question. Bruno didn't respond at first, watching Egg dart at and away from Machamp in a violent dance that Machamp was more than willing to perpetuate. He was noticing minute differences in posture, places where Egg gave away his thought process, moments that the Pikachu was broadcasting his intentions as loudly as if Ash was vocally directing every one of his movements—everything that made Egg flawed and a weak opponent to Bruno.
"He is young, still. He can be trained. This is an assessment, not a training session, Dragon Master."
Lance stifled a quiet sigh at the stilted formality of the title. "Regardless, this is a child of war, not of the home. He is used to training but not to a simple test. Be careful, Bruno."
Bruno gave no outward acknowledgement, though his posture did relax slightly as he watched Egg dash at Machamp again, bruised but determined to somehow bring him down. Machamp looked almost bored at this point, though he dutifully slid into a variety of stances to challenge Egg to try something new.
"Enough. Next."
Egg snarled at the implication that he was done before he could defeat Machamp, but before he could do anything Program dove in front of him and made a few static-y noises. The Pikachu stomped away in a huff, plopping down next to Amber with lowered ears, pouting as much as he could (she patted him on the head consolingly).
Program's trained strategy was evidently to confound and disarm opponents, as its main maneuver involved attempting to dive at Machamp's head and make a series of screeches that echoed in Lance's ears long after they faded away. It didn't seem to have any specifically recognizable moves; sometimes it launched what looked like a burst of water that sparked out of reality with a loud crackle while at others it flung tiny bursts of sound that exploded into golden circles that looked like coins. Machamp seemed disturbed by Program itself but focused on diverting its attacks and outright dodging some of them. He refused to move too much, simply ducking or twisting away from the flickers whenever he could. Program's strange make-up meant that Machamp had to improvise much more, but it also meant that whoever had trained Ash and his team didn't have much idea of how to streamline the pixelated mass, and Bruno quickly dismissed it.
Amber stood in front of Machamp, trembling slightly. From Lance's new vantage point by Bruno, he could see the apprehension that ruled in her gaze. It troubled Lance; while most pokémon weren't bloodthirsty per se, they all contained an inordinate amount of pride and thus enjoyed a good battle to see who was the better creature. It wasn't always a straight pokémon battle, as evidenced by the variety of performance-based pokémon tournaments, but that didn't change the fact that most pokémon liked competition. Egg was a prime example of that: the Pikachu hated being taken off of the battlefield without being defeated and was moping about it still, and his movements against Machamp had proven that he loved to test out his ability against those much stronger than himself.
Amber didn't have that excitement; if anything, she seemed afraid to be in battle against Machamp. Her expression would have better fit a little girl who found herself facing the large fighting-type in front of her. She crouched into a ready stance, her legs and arms trembling, paws clenched into fists by her face.
Ash let out a quiet questioning but comforting rumble. Amber cooed back before taking a breath as if to center herself. She put on a determined expression and looked to Machamp, only the slightest quiver left in her posture.
Before Bruno prompted, Ash gave a sharp bark of a sound and Amber leaned back before darting forward at a breakneck speed. She immediately began to glow red, though she started to slow down as she got closer to Machamp. Amber ran through his legs and immediately whipped around, her eyes gleaming in a Foresight. Ash clicked his tongue this time, and Amber summoned what looked like a halo of bluish-gold light around her paw that she slammed into the ground, sending herself into the air. A ball of bluish-white, just a shade different, emanated from her paws—she flicked her wrist and sent the Aura Sphere at Machamp's head before landing heavily, stumbling slightly from the force of the Meteor Mash she harnessed to get to the right height. Amber was panting heavily from the exertion, though she still stood in a crouched ready position.
Machamp didn't look too damaged from the attack, simply annoyed by its complexity. He slammed a foot into the ground, rocking it slightly and setting Amber off balance. As she stumbled, Machamp grunted loudly and flew forward and into the ground, this time smashing into it with two fists that sent shockwaves through the packed earth. As Amber watched in trepidation, cracks ran through the ground before sending up sharp earthen points that threatened to stab into her. She cried out in fear and fell backwards, immediately crawling away from it. Ash let out another commanding squeak that made Amber freeze before getting up, paws glowing with a whitish light now. As one of the points made its way over to Amber, she responded by thrusting the paw out and smashing the very tip of the spire. It didn't stop the Stone Edge at all, though it dulled its point and prevented it from causing anything more than a bruise, especially since Machamp hadn't sent enough power through the attack to do much more than violently prod Amber. Amber made the mistake of staring in horror at the spike in front of her and only looking up when Ash let out an alarmed screech. Machamp's Bullet Punch hit Amber square in the chest and sent her flying backwards, rolling against the ground as she cried out in pain. Shaking, she stood back up.
Lance noticed a strangely fanatic gleam in Ash's eyes. He let out a single sharp noise that Amber stiffened at before relaxing slightly. She looked Machamp in the eyes and maintained eye contact as she carefully crouched down. Machamp grunted and moved as though to Bullet Punch her again, but this time Amber seemed to shimmer slightly and the aftershock of the Bullet Punch resonated in Machamp's arm instead, making him roar in surprised pain and shake his hand out, snarling at his own arrogant foolishness. Amber dropped the Counter, seeming ever more exhausted with every retaliation.
"I've seen enough. Let me give you my judgment."
"What about Mewtwo?" Ash asked, confused.
Bruno's brow furrowed, the first indication all afternoon of some human emotion in the tall man. "I did not think him a battling partner. If he wishes to take part, he is more than welcome to."
Mewtwo nodded almost grimly before floating out to the now partially ruined courtyard arena and hovering with relaxed arms. Machamp looked to Bruno briefly before readying himself again.
Ash didn't have to say anything this time around; Lance watched as his eyes began to glow a sharp light blue, Mewtwo's mirroring them. Their body posture suddenly shifted—Mewtwo relaxed, Ash tensed, and they met at some strange middle where they started to breathe as one. They closed their eyes and shifted their weight forward. Ash let out a breath quietly before looking up to Machamp.
Mewtwo moved. He leaned forward and zoomed, hands held up to summon what power he could. Ash held an arm out as though reaching for Machamp, a look of intense concentration on his face, before he closed his fingers into a fist and pulled it back towards himself. Mewtwo continued to hurtle towards Machamp, who snorted and sunk into a more secure position. Just before Mewtwo would have bodily collided into the burlier pokémon, he vanished into the air.
Lance's eyes narrowed as a faint fog began to drift into the air. Machamp struggled to clear it, waving a hand through irritably, but the unnatural Mist proved too strong despite how light of a move it was known to be. Mewtwo reappeared behind Machamp and quickly reached out a hand to touch his upper arm lightly and vanish again. Machamp suddenly looked as though he was straining to use his arm; the muscles twitched and shook with exertion, and he opened and closed his fist to flex his fingers. Nevertheless, the Disable proved too weak to hold back Machamp for long and he shook it off with a savage grunt. Mewtwo had already vanished back into the Mist, though Machamp didn't seem too worried. The four-armed creature grunted, twisting quickly to his right just as Mewtwo appeared with an arm outstretched, hand where Machamp's shoulder used to be. Lance could only see Mewtwo's eyes widen slightly before Machamp reached over and grabbed his wrist quickly. Mewtwo's eyes glowed lilac for a split second before the light clustered in front of him and pulsed outwards. Machamp grunted in irritation but wasn't deterred in reaching out with his other three arms and restraining Mewtwo forcefully. Mewtwo began to physically struggle, the faint blue glow in his eyes wavering as he began to visibly panic. He managed to force an arm just far enough to flex his hands and summon a strange shimmering orb that flew towards Machamp's head, Teleporting away when Machamp's arms loosened ever so slightly in his distraction.
A smirk stretched across Machamp's face, and he turned to sneer at where Mewtwo must have disappeared to. He coughed out what could have been a laugh and squatted back down. He deliberately closed his eyes and stood, limbs outstretched and tense, hands beginning to glow faintly white. Lance noticed that his eyes had opened into mere slits that gave off an intangible power as well. Machamp's eyes darted back and forth, calculating everything that he could see, but he still did not move.
Mewtwo had vanished but evidently grew nervous at Machamp's lack of movement, as he soon reappeared right behind where Machamp was looking. Lance caught one last glimpse of Machamp's knowing, smug smirk before he moved. His heel shifted, his fists slammed into the ground, and his body quickly slid to the right.
The earth rippled.
There must have been some indication to Machamp that Mewtwo could not be defeated by a simple trick or by exploiting an instinct. The other pokémon, as substantial or insubstantial as the case might have been, remained their primal selves. No matter how humanoid Amber acted at times or how similar Ash and Egg seemed, the Riolu and Pikachu were still simple pokémon that obeyed whatever survival instinct written into them. Mewtwo was different—analytical, thoughtful, patient in many ways that Ash was not. Mewtwo did not obey instinct but actively questioned them, working to find the correct answer no matter how twisted it seemed.
Mewtwo acted as Machamp was trained to act, and so would Machamp treat him.
Stones pierced the ground, forged from the packed dirt into spires that relentlessly shot towards Mewtwo. The pokémon tried to Teleport away again but Machamp simply redirected his focus to where Mewtwo shimmered into being. The pointed rock was ramming out of the earth's surface as Mewtwo materialized, its tips just blunted enough to avoid piercing Mewtwo's flesh but sharp enough to prod him at various points on his back and arms.
Mewtwo collapsed, his eyes wide in panic. He closed his eyes, concentrating, but they soon flew open again, this time in disbelief. The pale blue glow in his eyes began to dim; Ash called out sharply when he lost connection to Mewtwo.
Machamp gave a huff before slamming his foot onto the ground again. The Stone Edge spires withdrew into the ground in a single smooth motion, leaving behind no trace other than a quiet rumble.
"Very good, Ash. You show great skill." Bruno gave him a brusque nod as though to emphasize his words and walked forward with Machamp to stand in front of him.
Ash shrank away from Bruno's approaching form. The boy looked almost bitter in his fear. "I lost," he said plainly.
"Of course. There would have been no other course. My brothers-in-arms have trained with me since they and I were both young. I have spent many, many years with them to hone their skills. You have merely scratched the surface of your own siblings' talent. You will one day eclipse us all, young Master-to-be."
Lance narrowed his eyes at Bruno's declaration. The Fighting Master did not say such words lightly. For him to call Ash a Master-to-be was, for all intents and purposes, a call to action for Ash himself.
Of course, there was no way for Ash to know this. He was simply a child, too young for him to truly comprehend or undergo this sort of training, and all that he knew was that he had been challenged by a man and that all of his friends lost to a single comrade of his. All that he knew was that Bruno was strong and that he was weak.
"How do I get as good as you?" Ash asked.
Bruno gave him the subtlest of smiles. "You train. And, for now, you train with me."
Lance took that as his cue to leave.
It grew harder to find Ash in his rooms. More often, he would be training with his pokémon or at lessons with Lorelei. Bruno was a less regular taskmaster than the Ice Master, who insisted on devoting four hours each morning to Ash's schooling. The boy did not know of the peace of weekends as other schoolchildren might, though he did not know of the bores of homework as Lorelei simply didn't have the time to grade any additional work of his. Bruno somehow always knew when Ash would need his help but otherwise encouraged him to discover himself in his training and only come to the Fighting Master when he had questions or wanted advice on a specific technique.
Lance shared meals with him, and while it seemed so small, the Dragon Master also saw that the faux independence allowed Ash to flourish. He would faithfully knock at the office door, shadowed as always by Mewtwo, and Lance would discuss whatever happened that day with him. Dinners began almost silent. Lance wasn't a particularly talkative man, and Ash still lived in some rigid quiet that forced itself upon the boy's shoulders. It wasn't a perfect cage; Ash was still a small child who found himself filled with exuberant, blind excitement that overpowered even the strongest urge to stay still, though he managed to fight it out of sheer will for a surprisingly long time.
It took him three weeks to crack. That day at dinner, Ash bounced into the office, Mewtwo almost exasperatedly trailing him. Lance was pleasantly surprised at his good mood and joined the boy and his living shadow at the table.
"She did so well, Mister Lance!" Ash said in a chipper voice. "Aura's always been a bit tricky, 'specially because Mister Bruno says that she has too much power and not enough control—" [Lance took a note of that, quickly puzzling out some possible solutions if he were asked to provide any] "—so we've been working on making it so that she can still use Aura without tiring herself out too much. Mister Bruno talked about how Aura could be used as a way to overwell another pokémon—"
"Overwhelm-overwhelm-overcome" echoed through Lance's mind, a distinct voice speaking through the typical resonating feelings that marked his telepathy [Lance noted this to relay to Sabrina]. Mewtwo blinked innocently at Ash and hovered his chopsticks of noodles up to his mouth.
Ash looked irritated at Mewtwo's interruption but shrugged it off just as quickly. "O-ver-whelm. That. But anyways, Aura can be used for so many things! And we're working on it in Amber—we're trying a skill where she can make an Aura Mist and be in touch with everything that touches it! For now we've been trying to get the Aura to not just be in a ball—the only thing that we've been able to do is summon it into a very fuzzy ball? Mister Bruno has been talking about so many possible things and it's a bit confusing but I think I get it and we can get it to work soon, even without knowing what he's saying—"
This time, Ash didn't get cut off by anything other than a sharp glance from Mewtwo. Lance found himself confused until he noticed how startled and panicked Ash looked. His eyes were trained onto his plate, his hand was clenched around his chopsticks, he was frozen. Mewtwo was equally frozen, though his gaze was trained onto Lance instead. He was observing, watching, waiting for Lance's reaction to… something.
"You should be free to call us by just our names, Ash," Lance said calmly. "You've been living here long enough for that, and anyone who doesn't know you would be confused why you aren't referring to us as Masters instead. Could you keep talking about what you've got planned for this technique, or is it a secret from me?"
Lance watched as Ash slowly looked back up, his eyes wide and shining. After a couple of seconds, a smile once again began to stretch across his face. He started to babble about the move he was planning (the current iteration was that Amber was hitting the Aura Spheres that she summoned with a protected hand, exploding the Aura outside of the stable ball, though the problem was that she had an equal tendency to accidentally dissipate the Aura altogether). Lance glanced back towards Mewtwo, who had relaxed ever so slightly and was cautiously eating the noodles again.
Somehow, Lance understood that he passed an unspoken test.
There was always paperwork to be done. Why was there always paperwork to be done?
Intellectually, Lance knew the answer. The other Kanto Masters were on their way for their expected meeting, and they were required to send in their updates before they arrived to let meetings run more smoothly. Some Masters always forgot to send them in (Lance was still waiting on Daisy and Erika, though he honestly wasn't expecting theirs to arrive at all) but most made an effort to as the less time they spent on business, the more time they could spend catching up or sparring.
The meetings were, after all, the only times that any Master could truly go all out, and any time taken from that to have to do paperwork was unwanted.
However, that meant that Lance had to do almost seventeen times the amount of work that he would have done as a non-Champion Master.
It was annoying, to say the least.
A piece of paper poked Lance's arm. The man rubbed his eyes quickly, put down the latest sheet, and turned to his volunteer helper with a smile.
Ash had an uncharacteristically serious expression as he stood there, the offending piece of paper in his hand.
"This is the last one," he said solemnly.
"Is it? Who is it from, then?" Lance asked, taking the paper and glancing over it.
"Bock."
"Brock?" Lance looked at it more carefully now. "Huh. I guess he technically is the Rock Master now. I don't know why that didn't occur to me."
"Isn't he a kid?" Mewtwo perked up at that from the sheet he was perusing (apparently Duplica acquired another Ditto from somewhere and requested permission to train it. Lance had no idea why she stuck to that particular old rule, but he found himself approving her requests himself more often than not).
"Under the law, he isn't, and he's been training under his father since he was much younger than you are now. But yes, he is around twelve, so he's on the younger side of the Masters."
"Huh." Ash stood a bit awkwardly next to Lance's desk instead of going back to his work reorganizing the jumbled mess that had been moved to the ground.
"Is there something wrong?"
"When will he be here?"
Lance blinked and took a moment to think it over. "Brock likes to come a bit early, to get his pokémon more situated, since they're on the feistier side. He will most likely arrive sometime in the next four or five days, given that the meeting is next week." He paused to glance Ash over. "Would you like to meet him?"
The same shining eyes that silently answered Lance's question greeted Brock that Wednesday.
"Oh. Uh, hi," the Rock Master said, waving his hand awkwardly at Ash. After quickly peeking at Lance, Brock cautiously held out a hand and patted Ash on the head. "You're just as old as Forrest is, huh?"
"Aren't forests usually really, really old?" Ash chirped, cocking his head to the side out of confusion.
Brock took his breath as though to explain further what he meant but evidently decided it wasn't worth it and just waved his comment away. "And who's this?" Brock asked, turning to Mewtwo, who stood awkwardly to Ash's side.
"This is Mewtwo, Ash's closest companion," Lance said. "He's a bit… uncertain around others, but he is loyal and as clever as any of us." He ignored the quiet stream of "loyal?-pet-child-lesser equal-my-I-me-not" that Mewtwo began to grumble into his mind.
"Oh. Huh. Well, nice to meet you too, Mewtwo," Brock said, holding his hand out to the pokémon. Mewtwo looked at it uncertainly, glanced up back to Lance, and finally reached out a finger and touched it to the offered hand. After a moment or two, Brock simply nodded and took his hand away, turning back to Lance.
"Do I have the same accommodations for my team as last time?" he asked.
"I'm assuming that your needs haven't changed too much over the course of three months," Lance said. "The arena and stables are yours to use at your discretion.
Brock snorted lightly. "Yeah, nothing too much has changed. Still trying to work with Rhydon not to knock me unconscious every time we have to go to the Pokémon Center, but I'm starting to think he's doing it on purpose."
Lance stifled a grin at the reminder of Brock's strange impulse to flirt with the various women he met. Puberty hit hard, it seemed. "How strange. Perhaps I can work with him as well."
Brock gave him a hard look through almost-closed eyes. "Are you messing with me?"
"Not at all, Master Brock," Lance said.
"Of course. How silly of me to think so." Brock headed for the door, shouldering his backpack once more. The twelve Pokéballs he was allowed to carry were quickly covered back up by his vest. "I'll go put my stuff down and then let them out. And maybe you can actually help me with Aerodactyl? She's been a bit flighty these days."
"Of course," Lance parroted Brock. "I'll leave you to it. Ash, do you want to stay with Brock or go to your team?"
Ash looked up at Brock with an obvious expression of admiration. Lance couldn't hold that smile back.
"I'll be in my office, working out where the other Masters can keep their teams. You'd think that we'd get this organized before now each time, but it remains a responsibility."
Brock shrugged. "I don't have that many suggestions; I'm not a good example of a Master in growing his team."
Lance nodded to him once more and left without a good-bye. He could hear Ash scurrying after Brock, still scrounging up the courage to start asking him questions. Mewtwo imparted a last feeling of "uncertain-maybe-maybe fine-we'll-be-fine maybe?-maybe fine?-fine?" before most likely hovering after him.
The Dragon Master was asked to go to the Arena meant to house Brock's team thankfully after he managed to finish off his mountain of paperwork. He deftly returned the two team members stretched out in his office –Altaria gave a single note of passive acquiescence before allowing himself to be turned to red light– and made his way over.
The League was winding hallways and false doors, but after so many years of navigating it, the path had sunk so deeply into his muscle memory that even in moments of confusion Lance knew where to go. Soon he got to a wide, circular space within the building complete with an arching ceiling that curved stories above his head. Brock and Ash looked small in the center of it, even if they weren't surrounded by some members of Brock's team. In a moment of ostentatious indulgence, Lance quietly released one of his Dragonite (his first brother, the one that started with him at the very beginning) and mounted him. Drakon let out a loud screech as he ascended just high enough to beat his wings once and screaming into the air with a loud CRACK!
Drakon screamed out again, a cry of jubilance and reckless abandon, as he allowed himself to go at full-speed, wrapping his body in a bubble of Protect so that Lance's skin didn't flay off of his face from the sheer velocity, whipping around the arena twice in a handful of seconds and twisting into the air to hover slightly. Lance looked down from his perch (Drakon had, as usual, flown to the very top of the vaulted ceiling in his delight) and saw Brock, Mewtwo, and Ash staring up at him.
Lance hoped that Ash would forgive him for the fright of his next trick. He closed his eyes, whispered to Drakon (who was already expecting the stunt and had most likely already mentally prepared).
And then he leaned backwards and fell right off of Drakon's back.
Brock made no noise but Ash's shriek [of fear? exhilaration? shock?] was audible from Lance's height. He heard the undercurrent of "no-wait-no stop-stop-stop stop-stop-can't no-don't-don't" begin to pound into his mind, and as he watched the ground speed up to get to him, he shouted out a single command.
"Aftershock, version 3 for flight!"
Drakon screamed out again before racing downwards and shooting out a glowing ball of compressed power that trailed through the air a little bit before imploding with a quiet boom! and letting out a much weaker wave of energy that hit Lance and sent him spiraling backwards and into a somersault. Lance felt Drakon swoop underneath him and leaned down for the Dragonite to pause slightly and let him land on his back before gently flying to the ground and allowing Lance to calmly leap off of his back, patting his partner in thanks.
"Hello, boys," he said with a wide grin. Drakon smiled toothily as well, a crooked, sharp smile of fangs and wicked intent. It was fascinating how teachers chose Dragonite of all of the dragon-types to portray as the approachable species. Numerous teaching diagrams showed the golden dragons as rounded, chubbier, with large approachable eyes, and though Lance could definitely see how such images could have been drawn, nothing had ever felt so contrary. Dragonite were fierce protectors and frequently their thick golden scales hid a wiry musculature and a pair of wings large enough to bend the air around them to their whims. They were kind to children of any species, perhaps out of some strange sense of obligation, but they were as cunning and ruthless as a Salamence or Garchomp in its prime.
Perhaps it was this that explained why Lance was greeted with a complete stillness after his dismount. Brock looked like he would have rolled his eyes if it would have made any effect. Ash looked shell-shocked.
After a couple of seconds of complete silence, a wide grin began to spread across Ash's face.
"Wow," he whispered.
Lance gave him a wink before addressing Brock. "What was that about your Aerodactyl, then?"
Brock sighed. "You'll give her ideas, and she's already so hard to keep under control," he said. Brock's Pupitar scoffed, though it seemed to be almost in agreement. His Golem grunted and the off-color Geodude that shimmered with every movement on her back made an equally nervous grumble. An Onix, dark with age, curled himself up behind Brock, distrustful eyes set on the Pokéball that Brock clipped from his belt and fiddled with.
He sighed in resignation before flicking his wrist down, expanding the Pokéball as part of the movement of his hands. The device bounced on the ground once and obediently opened from the trigger, releasing a purple winged creature that shrieked her glee at freedom before looping through the air, flapping her wings as she darted higher and higher.
"Aerodactyl! I know you want to play, but now's not the time. Get down here!" Aerodactyl looked vaguely mutinous at the suggestion.
Lance wordlessly released his own.
It was easy to distinguish which trainer led which Aerodactyl, despite their overall physical similarities. Brock's was much more heavy-set, her skin rugged to the eye and she flapped her wings as she looked down at Lance's with some interest. Lance's partner was sleeker, perhaps a bit brighter purple in hue from the grey beast that Brock commanded, with a dangerous gleam and a glide to his flight. He snarled at the Aerodactyl that had the audacity to fly above him, a deadly pride challenging the steadfast stubbornness he showed as he perched beside his trainer. Lance clicked his tongue at his Aerodactyl, who looked at him contritely before snarling quietly up at the other once more.
Brock looked on ruefully. "I don't think she respects me enough for that," he said finally, gesturing at Lance's Aerodactyl's behavior. Lance looked over to him and finally began to recognize the crestfallen thirteen-year-old boy and not see the infallible Rock Master that Brock had forced himself to become.
"Perhaps she doesn't. You're still a child to her and it'll be like that for a while. It's not too well-known, but Aerodactyl were rather social creatures back before they were mostly reanimated fossils. Flocks of close to fifty of them at a time would nest together and take care of their young, protect them from other predators. It could simply be that your Aerodactyl thinks of you as her child and wants to protect you more than she wants to listen to you. I wouldn't recommend twisting that to your advantage; pokémon are clever enough to recognize those kinds of ploys, and she most likely wouldn't forgive you that. However, if you are open to her about what it is you want and how that will benefit both of you equally—as well as the rest of your flock—" Lance gestured to the part of Brock's team that had been released "—then I'm sure she'll become much easier to handle."
Brock looked pensive. "I see."
"M-Lance?" Ash spoke up then; both Brock and Lance had all but forgotten that he was also present. "What's a flock?"
Brock answered that one. "It's a group of flying-type pokémon, typically the kind that are referred to as birds. Aerodactyl is a part of its own scientific family so it tends to get the same title."
"Why would they be in a group? Murkrow don't like being in groups."
Brock looked rather confused. "Well, groups of Murkrow are sometimes known as murders, but I've never heard of Murkrows being solitary. They're just as sociable as other pokémon, perhaps even more so thanks to their penchant for intelligence."
"What's a penchant?"
Lance watched as Brock dug himself deeper and deeper in to the question hole, though he didn't seem to mind as he just casually kept releasing his team (a squealing Omastar, a roaring Rhydon, a Bonsly that hopped back and forth between its legs before plopping down into a sitting position) as he answered the stream of questions that Ash unleashed on him. When Brock released his final two team members, a freshly revived Cranidos that pawed nervously at the ground and a Kabuto that scuttled around with no fear, Ash looked at the latter with awe.
"You have a Fossil too?" he asked.
Brock understandably misunderstood. "Well, I've got more than one, but yeah, I find them a lot of fun to work with. They're tricky little guys, what with their primitive mindsets, but that also makes them more loyal and willing to go all the way with you." Brock reached down and soothed Cranidos with a pat on the head. "Honestly, I wouldn't give them up for the entire world."
"And you let them go wherever they want? Then why use Pokéballs?" Ash seemed so curious.
Brock gave him a strange half-smile before answering. "The world is built for humans, and unfortunately for my team, that means that very few of them fit in. The fossils, as much as I love them, are so easily overwhelmed by city lights, and I can't very well bring Onix or Rhydon with me into a city."
The low grumbles from either pokémon proved that they begged to differ.
"Keeping them in Pokéballs means that they get to stay with me wherever they want to be and that they're always with me and ready for me to call on them. If I didn't keep them in Pokéballs, then they'd have to stay behind at the Gym, and as much as they love it there, they'd get bored and unhappy pretty easily. It's better for them to be with me, where I can make sure to give them fresh air every day and train them where I know they won't destroy Pewter City. Does that make sense?"
Ash's furious nodding relaxed something within Lance that he didn't realize had tensed up at Ash's question. Perhaps introducing him to the older boy was a good move after all.
And then, of course, one of the various Ace Trainers walked into the arena to let Lance know that they had finished setting up a small moat for Brock's Relicanth. At the sight of the woman, Brock began to babble mindlessly until Rhydon swiftly clocked him in the back of the head, sending him sprawling at the ground much to Ash's confusion. Pupitar just sighed heavily as Golem carefully got Geodude off of her back and lifted Brock there instead to walk him over to a wall.
Ash just cocked his head in confusion. Lance hid his smile behind a fist and thanked the Ace Trainer for letting him know, dismissing her without another word.
It's been a while, much apologies. I've been working my two jobs, trying to keep up in school, and preparing for graduation in three months. The story is developing beautifully in the shelter of my mind; now I just need time to write it out for you. I would have included the annual meeting in this chapter, but this upload is long overdue and that can definitely wait until next time. I don't quite have the time to reply to reviews as often as I used to, but if you have a very pressing question I'll be sure to answer it however I can.