Longer than usual, but given the time it took to get this out, I hope it was slightly worth it. I've just been caught up doing god tier game events and working triple shifts regularly because rent is too strong. As for Gale and getting back to Hoenn, it'll be soon. I'll probably have another chapter out within the week, since I already have it half written. Sorry for any grammatical mistakes, will revise it further later.
One kick is all it took, huh? Might've gotten stronger.
Standing over the unconscious form of his presumed assailant, Riven shook out his leg, snorting sardonically.
Call it impractical, but no one ever expects to open a stall door and get splashed in the eyes by toilet water. It was the body's natural response to flinch after a sudden soak like that, especially when the affected area happened to be your eyeballs. A flinch like that breaks focus and creates a fleeting yet very important opening.
Cue face punt.
Guy dropped like a rock. It'd be very awkward for him to recall just what in the hell happened when he finally did wakeup. One moment he was a gun-toting, stall door opening lackey probably in over his head and then splash, lights out. Riven stared absently at the guy before deciding his next move.
Know what? I'm going to take your money. Karmic justice.
Patting down the unconscious guy's person, Riven shrugged at the meager amount of bills in the man's pocket. Afterwards, he carefully cracked open the bathroom door, peeking his head out. There was some yelling coming from the lower floors, followed by the ringing of warning shots. Between the shouting, he could make out the sounds of pokemon growling and snapping.
Lowering himself to the ground to reduce body image, he crawled towards the windowed railings, assessing the situation from the angle he was in. They hadn't seen him yet, might as well scope out the scene before doing anything drastic.
Five down below, might've been more combing the other floors, like Mr. Goodnight in there. Any pokemon…? It seemed like… Mightyenas, Zangoose, and was that a Magmar? Problematic. He could probably deal with the other two normally, but by god, you would think these people would at least try to be subtle? Everyone knew those pokemon were rarer than an honest noble, especially in Kalos.
Going back inside the restroom and dragging Goodnight into an empty stall in case someone else got curious, he dialed Viola again.
"Prime!" She answered, clearly concerned. "What's going on?"
"Something kind of blew up? And well… a guy came in the restroom with a gun," Riven replied meekly. "He's…uh, face first in a toilet right now."
"Did you kill him?" She sounded panicked, and was probably ready to lecture him and or send in the cavalry.
"No, but he'll wake up with one hell of a sore jaw later. Anyway, quick rundown. From what I saw there's five of them down there, taking hostages it seems like. Hoenn pokemon mostly. Highly likely more are searching the other floors."
"So it's a robbery?"
"Seems that way," Riven mused. They are using masks...
"But it's too… direct. And weapons…" Viola thought deeply, recalling some case files she'd seen a couple times at the Santalune police station. "Burglaries are usually committed with ghost pokemon or pokemon capable of breaking down reinforced steel walls, like Onix or several fighting types. This is weird, weapons cost too much to do something this… petty?"
Riven considered that, eyes narrowing. She did have a point. If what they were after was on the top floor being auctioned off, they could have just headed up there and ruined the auction, but they didn't. Why? Unless they wanted to make it seem like it was a robbery. Underlying motives… what were they trying to achieve? Keep the artifact's significance hidden, or maybe they were after something else.
"Have they killed anyone yet?" Viola asked, breaking Riven out of his thoughts.
"Killed- No, doesn't seem like it. Screaming hasn't shattered the windows yet, so no, not yet. And if someone down there tries anything stupid, like being a hero, they will." Riven could almost picture Viola's frown. "Where are the police now?"
"They're waiting in the cafes around Centrico plaza and are also ready to move out. After the last call, they almost leapt out of their seats. Prime… if this escalates..."
"No need to remind me. I know the last thing the police want is to be called inept or incompetent, no matter how true it is. 'Do whatever just don't give me a bad rep!'"
Viola resisted the urge to bury her face in her free hand.
Riven fell into silence. If the police sprung into action now, not only would they completely destroy his plans and theirs, but he'd lose the only source of information on these men. If they knew the importance of the artifact and why it was connected to the azure orb, then he had to find out who and what they were, as well as how they came across this information. If they possessed an evolution orb too, that meant that someone else like Will had been created, or not.
If something like that got in the wrong hands-like say… a fanatical idiot- and it was anywhere near the level of what the elite Rose troops could do… Not good. Really not good.
Together as one. Just saying it makes me feel the ignorance.
Riven shook his head, dismissing the uncertainties and potential disasters of the future. He had to come up with something quick before the police decided to screw everything and zerg rush inside, pokemon blazing like some sort of saviors. He could understand the appeal to that, because let's be honest, that makes anything look ten times more badass than it really is, but it was also really not needed now, thanks.
"Maybe I can disrupt their operations somehow while learning more about what they're after, confuse them," he proposed, scratching his chin.
"How will you do that, exactly?" Viola gulped, expecting something bizarre, or incredibly violent. His definition of "disrupt" could easily mean kill them all and cut off their pinky toes as souvenirs. Mercenaries were scary.
Glancing at Goodnight face first in the toilet, Riven smirked. "I have an idea."
"I… don't think I like that tone," Viola squeaked. "Don't tell me you're going to do something-"
"Insane? Most definitely."
And so, Riven walked out of the restroom wearing Goodnight's clothes and gun. In theory, if they were all wearing masks, it'd be impossible to tell who the man under the mask was. It was a blessing that he'd gotten those brown contacts after all, but if they had names or something of the sort… well, he'd have to improvise or ditch everything and drop anyone he could. No sword, just this clunky metal peashooter. He'd have to come back to get the blade, if he wasn't dead by that time at least. For now all he had was… this.
Naturally, he knew about as much of guns as he knew of computers. The extent of that knowledge equivalent to the amount of wisdom possessed by a twelve year old in regards to true love.
Which happened to be synonymous with zero, and best friends with nothing.
All he knew was that pressing the trigger would make spinning metal rounds of death come out, violently and loudly so. And that wasn't even starting with how to aim the damn things.
Is it just aim in the general direction and hope it hits something? If everything goes to hell, I guess I still have my knives. Can't really do much to a pokemon though.
Making his way down, he feigned calm, acting like he was in control in case any of his "teammates" spotted him. When he got to the bottom floor people were on the ground, cowering. He spotted some trainers, fingers creeping up to where their pokeballs were located, inching up ever so slowly, their eyes fiercely focused on the ground.
Chance to establish credibility. Take it, no hesitating.
"Don't even try it," Riven warned, making his voice gruffer and more menacing. "Do it and I'll blow your hands off." He jabbed the boy in the ribs with a foot. The boy held in a look of pain, gritting his teeth.
The kids grimaced, placing their hands back on the ground. They muttered something among themselves, probably trying to stay calm, which couldn't be said for some of the adults, who looked like they were about to break down crying and possibly piss themselves.
Taking a balanced, confident stride, he walked up to the other masked men, eyes unwavering. Any sign of awkwardness or so much as a hint of something out of place, and a sharp witted enemy could spot him instantly. They were the attackers here, they were the ones that were prepared for discrepancies. At least he thought so. Henchmen could be rather stupid. Regardless, disguising yourself as the enemy wasn't unheard of in his time and often was used, but he seldom got placed on those missions, considering no Rose soldier had blue eyes, much less one blue and one brown. Skulking was fine. Infiltration among enemy ranks? His general would have had to be fifty kinds of hammered before he let Riven on one of those missions.
"Magikarp, you're late," the man growled, Magmar flaring beside him, the heat of its burning body leaving a distorted haze around it. Kind of like looking down a street when it was really hot out. How anyone could stand close to that and not be sweating buckets was beyond him. "Did it really take that long to check restrooms?"
Riven twitched.
They named the guy Magikarp. As a codename. A floppy. Fucking. Fish. As far as codenames went, it was the epitome of lackey, and if it wasn't, he'd swallow a pitcher of salt. Although, those floppy fishes did turn into powerful rage monsters capable of leveling entire towns in a fit. He had a feeling it was one of nature's really tasteless jokes.
"You know how awkward it is to tell someone on the toilet to get down?" Riven complained, trying to play the unwilling lackey now that he knew his unfortunate codename.
"So what did you do?"
Riven held up the gun, butt end up. Then made swinging motions.
The man sighed, rolling his eyes. He pointed to the other masked men, sounding very exhausted. Probably an older mercenary from the voice, had to be careful with him. "Go with them, they'll tell you what to do." The fire pokemon next to him snorted out some fire at Riven, who swiftly dodged out of the way.
Nodding after patting down the part of his shirt that caught fire, the imposter went over to the other four, where they stood watching the captives.
"Magikarp, Swellow, Graveler. Check the other floors and meet up with the others," one of the men, Abra, commanded, glancing at his watch. "Twenty minutes left, make sure no one calls the police. Secure the gym leader and his trainers, they're the biggest threat here."
He gave instructions out to each of them, most likely the control center of the group. Riven eyed him observantly, considering that the plan makers were usually always sharp enough to notice inconsistencies in a situation. Luckily, everything went off without a hitch and Abra didn't so much as give him a second glance. Whether he genuinely overlooked him or knew something was off but ignored it because Riven was named Magikarp of all things, he didn't know. Assumed the former, but the latter was a strict possibility.
He was to meet up with Pinsir near the jewelry shop on the fourth floor, where they would then head up to the fifth floor, and capture Clemont and his trainers.
It was likely the people on the fifth floor hadn't the faintest idea what was going on, given how loud the place usually was. The fifth floor had been designed to be sound-proofed due to pokemon battles being held there, as well as the announcing ring. Extremely loud noises tended to bother people, revolutionary concept really. An explosion would be just as audible as a pin dropping from up there, they'd have no forewarning whatsoever.
But if they want to take on Clemont and any who are challenging him… they'd need to have strong enough pokemon to do so. Even with weapons, pokemon are much stronger assets. Regular trainers with pokemon can overpower even the best trained person given enough time. And gym leaders are stronger than that when pushed to the edge in a serious event. From what Flannery showed at Lavaridge… that isn't even the full extent of their strength. And to do it in twenty minutes…? No, not possible. Doesn't make any logistic or tactical sense. They could have gone up to the fifth floor and done that, all without ever notifying the public below.
What they were doing now was so inefficient it was hilarious, not to mention unnecessary. But it was too inefficient, so much that there was no possible way they'd complete their objective. He could assume that the guys were idiots, but then he'd be underestimating them. To underestimate an opponent was to give them an advantage. There had to be something bigger at play. Overestimating them could be just as detrimental as well, so he had to proceed with utmost caution. Everything just didn't feel quite right, as if he was overlooking something enormous yet subtle. Like hiding a Wailord in plain sight.
Meeting up with Pinsir, he noticed the masked man had an Espeon at his side, which could have spelled out trouble for anyone who wasn't him.
"Pinsir?" Riven asked, eyeing the psychic, which appeared to be confused. He refrained from grinning like an idiot at the fact that the pokemon was probably getting no brain feedback from him, but couldn't figure out why a human of all things was causing it. Pissing off psychics was starting to become a funny little habit as of late. The eon cocked its head.
"Who're you?" Pinsir replied, suspicious.
Riven looked into the man's eyes, observing. Wary, which pointed him to several conclusions.
One was that the group wasn't as devoted, nor as structured as he had thought, not fanatics. Mercenaries, most likely. Fanatics were fiercely devoted to one cause, working in tandem to fulfill that purpose, they wouldn't betray each other, let alone question another member of the same group- which also told him that Pinsir was the most likely to notice any kind of suspicious activity, so he should prepare to fight at all times. Let him lead, and if the time came, stab him in the kidney.
Pretend like everything is going well, they don't know I'm an imposter yet. The fact he doesn't know who he's supposed to meet means that not everyone knows the plan… or each other.
Good strategy, if no one knew the entire plan, it was easier for the planner to eliminate wild cards or backstabbing, which was ironic as all hell considering the situation. Someone could easily sabotage an operation like this, so by playing it this way they'd forced to follow through with the plan to the letter in order to receive the pay. However… Only one problem. What if someone not from the group crashed the party? Someone you never planned for? The bane of any planner's existence: the third party.
And that's where I come in.
"Magikarp," he stated evenly. The Espeon blinked again, still concentrating.
"Magikarp," Pinsir repeated. "Why did they stick me with fodder? That asshole." Checking his watch, he gave a deep sigh, motioning to follow with a flick of the middle and index fingers.
Obeying, Riven walked with him in the direction of the staircase, a row of shops ahead. Pinsir kept checking his watch, almost incessantly, like a tic. Nearing the restroom, he stopped behind Riven, deathly silent. The imposter could feel the man's gaze burning into his back and began to think the worst.
Turning around, Riven faced him, beginning to sweat. Did he notice? "What?" He asked idly, pretending to be oblivious. "We need to hurry up."
"What time is it?" the man asked with the exact same tone, seemingly out of the blue. A harmless question. So why did it seem razor-edged?
Riven looked up, thinking. A spike of uneasiness shot through him, causing him to hesitate. Remembering the position of the sun, it was likely almost sunset, maybe past that. "Six-ish? Seven?"
Silent for a few agonizing seconds, Pinsir stared, rooted in place like a stone wall, dark brown eyes narrowed and expressionless. Something after that last question had changed his demeanor completely. The pokemon at his side slowly shifted into a combat stance, fur spiking upwards ever so slightly, not baring any fangs yet. Rising hostility shone in its expression, left ear twitching. "Espeon isn't picking up any brain signals from you. And you're not wearing a watch. Where is your watch, Magikarp?"
Glancing at Pinsir's watch, Riven didn't know if Pinsir was doing this to psych him out, or genuinely pointing out a flaw. If everyone was actually wearing watches, that'd make it obvious that he was an impostor of sorts, if they'd practiced this situation and ironed out the plan hundreds of times, it'd be child's play to spot an outsider. On the other hand, if he reacted badly to the bluff, he could also provide him a specific denial and give himself away. Neither was rather enticing, to be honest.
He measured the options, quickly deciding.
Screw it.
In an instant, Riven whipped around, lunging in low with the butt of the rifle. The weapon struck Pinsir in the abdomen, causing him to lurch backwards from the hit. The rifle swung up once more, striking the chin and pushing him backwards.
The Espeon growled, eyes turning a deep pink, glowing with psychic energy.
"Not today," Riven taunted, clutching Pinsir by the collar and using his body as a shield. The Espeon faltered and let go of its attack. The one downfall of psychics- when presented with a situation they couldn't easily control, they choked. And they'd never hurt their trainer. It happened with Baron often before he evolved, the fighter part of him seemed to remedy that and favored more practical approaches, but for a pure psychic like the eon, they didn't have that luxury. Taking advantage of their feelings was easy, even if it was cheap.
Well, tough.
Throwing the gun to the side, Riven reached out and snapped the first pokeball off Pinsir's belt. If trainers were anything to go by, they kept their in-use pokemon at the front, just so they wouldn't mistakenly release another, or be unable to return them in a pinch. Even if these men weren't trainers, it only made common sense, but then again, people seemed to lack that somewhat badly these days. Sticking a hand out behind Pinsir's head, Riven clicked on the ball's button, sending a red beam of light towards the Espeon, returning it.
Threat gone.
As Pinsir began to recover, Riven backed up a step, using the metal ball as a club against the man's skull, pushing him up against the railing. He grunted, reeling from the hit, bringing up the gun to fire-
A flash of steel flicked outwards, knife slashing across the man's right forearm. Riven used the pokeball as a club once more, the impact of metal on bone resounding with a loud crack. Pinsir's grip on his weapon slackened, and with that momentary reprieve, his assailant tore it out of his hands and dropped it over the edge of the railing, sending it plummeting four stories down towards the ground.
Wasting no time, Riven delivered a solid knee strike to the man's stomach, then flung him into a nearby store. Pinsir fought back with punches and kicks, but being winded slowed him down considerably. After another kick to the ribs, he pulled out his own knife. Closing in for a stab, Riven sidestepped it, grasping the wrist while ducking under the arm, impaling his knife in the shoulderblade and using his momentum to bring the man down to the ground face first. Using his knee and applying pressure, the bones in the wrist snapped, and Pinsir nearly howled, sound muffled only by Riven's gloved hand.
"You're not going anywhere", Riven said harshly, taking out the knife in the shoulderblade and burying it again into the wounded man's calf. "Now you can't run, so let's have a talk, Pinsir."
From there, Riven picked him up and threw him against the counter, expression blank.
Breathing heavy, and in plenty of pain, Pinsir glared, hateful and furious. "Fucking traitor, knew… couldn't trust you. Piece of shit."
"Traitor?" Riven let out an ironic chuckle of laughter. "I was never one of you in the first place."
"What?" Pinsir stammered.
"The real Magikarp is face first in a toilet bowl right now, but that's not the point," he continued, crouching to be eye level with him. "You're going to answer my questions. First things first, what happens in twenty minutes?"
Pinsir said nothing for a few seconds, then a rueful laugh came from him, smiling widely. "You have no idea, do you? Looks like we weren't the only ones who got played."
"What are you-"
"You noticed it too. Whoever you say you are. Impostor. " He breathed in deep, flinching from the pain in his leg. "No lackey fights lack that. You know damn fucking well we can't take the gym leader in twenty minutes." Showing Riven the watch, it wasn't a watch at all.
It was a timer. And there was a minute left on it.
"What happens when it goes to zero?" Riven all but demanded, holding a knife to Pinsir's throat. "Tell. Me. I know how to make people scream, you do not want that to happen."
Pinsir chuckled mockingly.
The response to that came in the form of pulling on his broken wrist, then twisting the knife in the leg a few centimeters. Laughing stopped, replaced by muffled screams.
"I can do so much worse than this," Riven threatened. "I can start with the fingers, then work my way to the toes, or begin with your teeth. I'm a licensed dentist, believe me."
Pinsir swallowed the pain, clenching his jaw.
"I don't know," he said truthfully. "I don't fucking know. Those scumbags screwed us."
Riven watched the man's body language, and from that he couldn't say that he didn't believe him. If this was the selective information type of plan, then it was most likely true that Pinsir was missing crucial details. But if it was a timer… was it a bomb or…?
"You mentioned scumbags. Who hired you?" Riven asked. "Were they from Hoenn? What?"
"Men in suits, said we'd get paid a million each to take Prism tower for thirty minutes at a set time. Then they gave us guns. Fucking trap. Said something about…being together."
Together as one. Probably the ones who bought the guns from Cyrille. Makes sense they wouldn't get their hands dirty, why take unnecessary risks? Just hire someone else to take the fall in case anything goes wrong.
"Name. Did you get a name?"
Pinsir blinked, glassy eyed. "…Singularity."
Singularity… so that's what you're called. I'll have to ask Steven about getting access to Hoenn league records of-
The timer rang, and the building lit up in explosions and fire.
Riven hesitated for moment, trying to make sense of what was happening, it was then that Pinsir reached into his boot and stabbed him in the leg with a small blade.
Reacting on reflex, Riven grunted in pain and returned the attack with an elbow. Pinsir slumped limply to the ground, a big red mark on his jaw. Ripping the pokebelt off the unconscious man's person then tossing it a good distance away, Riven breathed in deeply. "Dick."
Tearing off the mask with his other hand, Riven stood up, pulling the blade out of his leg. Limping out of the store, he caught sight of what was going on, with none of it making any sense.
There were five groups of people battling on the ground floor, with both pokemon and guns. Beams and blasts echoed along the walls as bullets flew and people screamed. None of them civilians but… mercenaries and what appeared to be gang insignias?
What the actual fuck?
He wondered with complete befuddlement why they were fighting if they were going after the same… oh. OH. Maniacal laughter came out of him, the irony of the situation as well as the brilliance overtaking him. Had he been a casual observer, like say, god- he'd be laughing his ass off.
One part of it was the gang members, they were from different sides of Lumiose and by far made the scene almost comical. That old fucking bastard Cyrille. While he wasn't interested in the artifact itself, he was certainly a money-obsessed creepy asshole. He likely sold the information to the gangs, probably playing up the artifact as a sort of powerful item to help them in their petty gang wars. Idiots.
As for the mercenaries…
They were predators, the same way an Absol hunts a Sawsbuck, a Mightyena pack hunting in a forest. Their kills were theirs, and no one else's. To steal their food was as much an insult to their pride as it was to their dominance. You were the top. No one challenged you, and you'd be damned if they did.
Except this was business. Money. A mercenary's lifeblood. They'd been informed to come here at exactly this time, unbeknownst to each other, resulting in a bloody clash. They probably weren't expecting three other random groups to show up, but someone had intentionally done this.
QED clusterfuck.
It was then that he spotted the hostages, huddled inside the shops, trying to stay out of the way. Pinsir's words dropped in his mind like a bomb.
The trap wasn't for the mercenaries. Whoever planned this didn't account for Riven being there either, so it didn't involve him whatsoever. This was a setup for someone else, someone they were trying to lure here.
It clicked in Riven's mind, pieces falling into place as he turned ghost white. No. No, no, no. Shit!
Dialing Viola with lightning speed, he cursed as she picked up.
"Prime! We can't wait any longer! The police are going in! Every entrance of Centrico plaza except for the Vernal Avenue entrance is on fire and the sidewalks just exploded!"
"Viola, you can't!" He pleaded, voice laced with dread. "It's a trap. STOP THEM NOW."
"Trap? What do you mean-"
"The timers, the nonsensical strategy of planning, the conveniently timed explosions… all of it was a lure for the police, they can't come here! They're trying to bottleneck you!"
On the other side of the line, Viola gasped as police cars and officers rushed Centrico Plaza, but were frozen in their tracks as a single figure approached in the flames. He was dressed in a black jacket and jeans, the most notable thing on his person was a hat emblazoned with a pokeball on the front, covering his face completely. A trainer…?
Radio messages came in frantically, reporting break-ins at the Stone Emporium and Sycamore's lab. The police remained glued to the floor, unsure of what to do.
The trainer kept walking forward, impeccably calm. A small spherical object flew into the air, followed by a flash of light. What came next chilled the police to the bone. A Tyranitar towered over the figure, the light of sunset and flames revealing a crest hanging over the pokemon's chest. It roared as the trainer held up a hand, on his glove was a small glowing stone.
A stone Kalos knew all too well.
Looking at the trainer's mouth, Viola paled. She read his lips, needing only two words to send what felt like a bucket of ice water down her back.
"Mega evolution."
"Oh god," Viola whispered. Picking up the radio, she screamed into it, telling them to get back.
Riven shakily put away the phone, as an enormous blast could be heard from the outside, followed by a roar that could only belong to one thing. A roar that scared trainers and rangers to death alike in the wild, a pokemon you'd never want to fight without preparation.
He remembered Sam's face when he recalled losing his Blastoise to it, and a sinking feeling coiled around in his chest, a mix of worry and well… dread seemed to be commonplace now.
That plan in the beginning… it was only a distraction. A diversion in preparation for the real plans. Classic strategy, divert an enemy's attention to conceal your true objective. Shit. Riven slammed a fist against the railing, cracking the glass. They wanted to eliminate the police as a factor… they most likely counted on someone notifying the police, but knew that the police wouldn't dare attack such a central location until absolutely sure that there was something going on. Hence the thirty minutes, the other mercenaries fighting were just incentive to get them to come running blindly to save the day, while setting the hired guns against each other.
Whoever was planning this wasn't just killing two Taillow with one stone. It was lining up a flock of them and bouncing the rock off them like a game of skipping stones.
Running as best as a man with a limp could to the window, he witnessed the police desperately trying to fight against what looked like the most different type of Tyranitar he'd ever seen. It had more spikes than normal, and it simply stood there as the police struggled uselessly against its rocky hide.
It opened its mouth and a brief second later a dark pulse obliterated part of a building. No, obliterated wasn't the right term. Vaporized would fit better. Riven gaped stupidly, having only seen a sliver of such power in the fight against the Pangoro. What he was seeing now could be classified as no less than sorcery.
He grimaced, out of time and options. Dashing back to the restroom despite the knife wound in his leg burning like molten steel, he went to where his blade lay, picking it up and taking out his holo caster. Goodnight was still… well, goodnighted.
If you want to make plans, then I'll just have to adjust mine to ruin yours.
Planning to adjust his plan, to ruin the plans of someone else, who was planning to use the police's plan against them to further their own plans. He'd have to draw a graph of that later. There was, however, one tiny glimmer of hope in this mess.
And that was the no one had expected him to be there. When all else fails in an attempt to sabotage something, just throw a random gear into the machine and watch it destroy itself. Even if it doesn't, at least you know you screwed up something. For once he was the gear, and it made him strangely happy that he wasn't on the receiving end of it this time. Felt good.
Isole. Problem, he typed out, hoping she'd respond. She was the punctual one, Cormac usually ignored everything. Texts more so.
As expected, the return message came quick. Problem? What problem?
Time limited. In Prism tower now.
Why. Are. You. Here? Came her message. The fact she punctuated it for emphasis… not in a good mood. But then again she was never in a good mood. It was hard to tell sometimes, living glacier and all.
Riven twiddled his fingers, thinking. Taking a stroll? Best he could come up with. He technically wasn't lying… Look out of window.
Receiving it, Isole walked over to one of the windows, eyes widening as pitch black smoke could be seen rising into the air, flames covering the ground below. The rest of the people inside didn't even notice it, still paying attention to the auction proceedings. Going to bathroom. Wait.
He waited idly, listening to the muffled sounds of explosions outside. If it weren't for well, just about everything, then maybe he'd be on the roof enjoying a nice ice cream cone under the sunset. Such a nice day. But alas, life.
The holo caster buzzed, incoming call in projection mode. Huh, that was rare. Pushing the button, a holographic image of Isole appeared, in all her irritated icy glory. Hands on her hips, she glared icicles at him. "Talk."
"I'm going to skip explanations," Riven said, holding up a hand to curb her wrath. "Don't have time for that."
Her face shifted from irritation to genuine astonishment. "You didn't shoot a smart remark. You're serious. That's fairly worrying. It's bad isn't it?"
"You look nice in that dress," he began.
"Wow. Small talk from you? It's even worse than I thought."
Riven nodded dimly, then cocked an eyebrow. "You sure you should be showing that much skin though? Cormac might accidentally walk into several walls."
"Today's count is six," she snorted, covering up a bit. "I won't ask how the hell you're involved in this yet, so just tell me. No more lame excuses like you were taking a stroll, even if you weren't technically lying when you said it."
"Wha-"
"You're a semantics master," she smirked. "It's what makes you irritating. Now start talking, in case you forgot, most of Prism tower is surrounded in flames, and I don't like fire. What happened out there?"
"I wish I knew," he admitted, shrugging. "Only thing I know is that they're after what you're after, and that's not the end of it. What you see outside? There's a strange looking Tyranitar that made part of the Bourges complex disappear completely. It was a god damn trap for the police. They got bottlenecked into approaching from one street and I'm assuming a large force of them got obliterated with some sort of hyper beam. Oh and a bunch of explosions went off under the sidewalks. Either everyone ate some really bad food or I suspect sabotage."
"There is a Unovan food restaurant there," Isole giggled.
"You're surprisingly lighthearted today. Usually you walk around like you have a block of granite up your ass."
"Well, I won a bet today," she said proudly, ignoring his snide comment.
"What bet?"
"That something was going to explode and you'd have something to do with it."
Riven attempted to refute that but found that any response he formulated fizzled into incoherent babble. "It's not nice to bet against people. Especially someone as charismatic and charming as me. Even if its… somewhat, halfway… true."
"I should bet on your ability to attract disasters more often now." Riven frowned deeply at that. Smiling cheerily, Isole sent a message to Cormac. I won, bitch. "What's the approximate situation?" She asked, clicking away at the keypad. "And by the way, there's an entire keg of alcohol back at home in case it's that bad."
"Ah, good to know," Riven mused. Getting drunk for once might not be too bad. "You want the long version with all my ramblings or the fast and hard version?"
She raised a brow at that.
"Oops. It seems a made a sexual innuendo," he gasped. "I could add more adjectives if you want."
"Fast and hard," she chuckled to herself, letting a little crackle of immaturity slip through her icy exterior. "Boys…"
Continuing, Riven held his arms out, bottom hand simulating the floor and his fingers taking the form of whoever it was he was talking about. With all the bunny hopping and his deadpan, it just served to make it seem more ridiculous than it already was.
"There's a five way battle between mercenaries and gangsters going on in the ground floor with civilians and hostages caught in between," Riven recalled, watching Isole silently whistle. More finger motions, "they also have guns with anti everything bullets. And of course, there's that giant fucking rage monster tearing the police to pieces and it's barely seven PM. That fast enough for you?"
"I'd say you'd need to put more force in it, I barely felt it at all."
"Ice is fragile, could break if I went too hard. So I held back."
"Glaciers can take quite a beating." Dropping the smart remarks, Isole nodded her head a few times before sighing. "So basically, it can get little worse. Can't imagine the media fallout after this… What you see down there is a Mega Tyranitar. Who the hell would be insane enough to mega evolve a monster like that I've no idea, but I have a feeling someone dropped them as a child." She gripped the bridge of her nose, feeling a headache and a long night coming up.
"Mega what?" Riven blurted out, trying to connect Tyranitar, evolve, and mega together. It made his brain pound. "Did you just imply Tyranitar can evolve again?" He stopped her as she was about to speak. "Let me repeat that just so I know I'm not going insane… That thing. Evolved. Again."
"Mmmm," she affirmed, as if casually admitting that the sky was green too.
"That is fucking bullshit…" Riven muttered under his breath. "Legendaries… time travel… technology… crazy stupid… farghhhwjyrsj."
Isole ignored his venting, but she'd be lying if watching him growl at a random wall wasn't amusing in its own right. "Some pokemon can mega evolve, but only under special conditions. A mega evolved pokemon could have the power to temporarily rival a legendary."
"But how can you even explain that?" He saw her pointed look and frowned again. "Know what? No, I'm not even going- It's space magic isn't it."
"Space magic."
Riven buried his face in his hands.
"Lumiose recently banned anyone from mega evolving pokemon within city limits because of that power. If someone is misusing it, then the police have absolutely no chance. Considering you haven't visited a pokemon center since you got here, I'm not surprised you didn't know. We're coming down, try not to do something drastic."
"Drastic? Oh certainly not. I would never," He said innocently. "Still… Power to rival a legendary. World just loves finding new ways of screwing with you… I'll just try and secure the poor bastards caught in the crossfire then. You and Cormac help the police out and take out any remaining mercenaries in the area. I don't stand a chance without pokemon of my own. Don't want them to tear me a new asshole, that'd be unpleasant."
"Maybe they should force it wider, thirty minutes for you to take a shit doesn't seem to be enough," Isole mentioned teasingly. "But on one condition, Riven," she said, shifting in tone. "After this happens, you're going to tell me how exactly you found out about this, and what the hell you've been up to. Or I'll freeze your balls while you sleep."
"Help me with this, and I'll hold nothing back. And by the way, you scare me. Always with the manly place with you isn't it?"
"It's super effective," she snorted. "Get it?"
"Die."
On the ground floor, chaos was the only thing Riven could use to describe the situation, it being synonymous with fucked, thoroughly fucked, and totally fucked. Mercenaries and pokemon clashed. Alliances and teamwork be damned, it was practically a free for all of random violence at this point. There weren't much dead at this point yet, but the same couldn't be said for the surrounding area. The ground was charred, cracked, and broken. Smashed windows were everywhere and every wall had at least some form of a hole in it.
He jumped down from the second floor in a poorly thought out set of mind, hit the floor and whimpered like an injured Growlithe. It was easy to forget there was a knife sized hole in your leg that you were somewhat bleeding profusely from.
Cursing his own stupidity, Riven maneuvered through the skirmish, trying to get to where the hostages were huddled up. Several pokemon nearly killed him while he was attempting to do it, or at least tried anyway. Luckily, they were too focused on fighting each other. Their humans even more so.
When he got inside the bookstore that was housing the frightened civilians, he only caught a glimmer of the group before he was met with a fireball the size of his body. Falling on his injured leg and cursing god as the passing flames ignited a part of his already toasty clothes, he patted himself down furiously behind a bookcase. Peeking part of his head out, he noticed an older trainer standing guard in front of the frightened group, Delphox beside him. Its wand burned brightly, then flared up, a ring of flames rising behind it. Colors mixed and weaved together, brilliant greens and strange purples interwoven with powerful reds and other hues ranging from pink to teal.
The sight mesmerized him, and luckily, he was able to snap out of it before "oooohhh pretty", gloriously killed him.
Riven rolled backwards, avoiding getting incinerated by the strange fire burst. The attack destroyed the bookcase he was hiding behind completely, turning it into a pile of cinders. Albeit very colorful cinders.
"I'm not your enemy!" he shouted, hiding amongst more furniture in the store. It was probably best to look for something that didn't go up in flames.
"Stop lying to us! You're dressed like them! Come close again and I'll burn you to ashes, I swear! Leave us alone!" The trainer warned. "Delphox, mystical fire!"
Fire roared, torching two entire aisles of the store, then fanning out against the walls at the end of the store, scorching and setting anything even remotely flammable ablaze.
"Didn't they teach you not use fire indoors? Do you want to set the tower on fire? " Riven reprimanded, crouching low, readying some knives. He groaned. Heroes. He really didn't want to kill this guy. Then none of them would trust him. Knocking him out was out of the question too, because then he'd have a very not so nice Delphox go batshit on him and he'd have to take care of that too. Too much of a pain, better talk him down first.
"What do you care? It's a warzone out there! And it's you bastards' fault!"
Riven grit his teeth. "I'm warning you kid. Back. Off." Fingers gripped knives a little tighter. "I don't want to kill you. But I will if you don't stop trying to turn me into toast."
Another blast of fire told Riven exactly what the trainer's response to that was.
"Is this what it's like to deal with me? Scratch that, every damn trainer in existence…" He muttered before springing into action. Jumping out from one of the aisles, Riven threw the knives haphazardly, intentionally sending them awry to serve as a distraction. But instead of hitting the wall behind the trainer, the knives stopped in midair, suspended with a pinkish aura.
The fire type was part psychic. How fucking quaint.
Pointed steel turned around, edge pointed at directly back at him. Knives shot forward like bolts, piercing through wood and embedding themselves into the walls at least a few inches deep. Riven abandoned the initial strategy, opting to rush forward and close the distance before the fire type could get another attack out rather than flank around. The Delphox summoned another ring of fire, faster this time, swelling in size in less than a second before firing.
Breaking into a slide, the fire passed over him, the intense heat of the inferno becoming unbearable against his skin as mystic flames heated the surrounding air; even for a moment, it felt like being stuck in a crucible.
The trainer slashed the air with a hand. "Flamethro-" His words cut off abruptly as a large blade was pointed just mere centimeters away from his neck.
"Stand. Down," Riven advised coolly, turning the blade for emphasis, lightly touching the trainer with the cold edge of the length. He glanced at the pokemon, which was very subtly trying to psychokinetically control his body. "Won't work, psychic. Cut it out. Surviving without a throat is difficult. Don't want your trainer to end up like that, I take it?"
The fire type conceded when it realized that Riven's body didn't so much as twitch after the psychic influence, lowering its wand with a command from its trainer, snarling quietly. The teenage boy looked at Riven, terrified yet trying his best to be composed. Commendable bravery. Wasn't easy talking when there was a sword at your neck. Usually pissing yourself came first.
"What do you want?" The boy asked, fist trembling. "We're just trying to stay out of the way, let us go, please."
Riven lowered the blade, sighing. "I actually came here to get all of you the hell out." He wasn't saving them because of an inward desire to be a hero- far from that- but because their presence complicated things for both him and Viola. Considering the things she pulled in such a short time span, he was better off not causing more trouble for her.
"W-what? Oh, shit. I'm so sorry," the trainer apologized, bowing. "It's just you looked like…them…"
"Yeah… Probably should have changed clothes beforehand. But thanks for nearly killing me," he mentioned dryly. The trainer made a strangled noise, continuing to apologize furiously. "It's insane out there right now, but my partners should get here and even things out. Hopefully. Then we can get all of you out of here, also hopefully."
"Hopefully? Wait, what about the police? No one called them?" Someone in the back spoke up, nervous.
All of these people were frightened, and why wouldn't they? Last time a group of people with guns and pokemon appeared, three gym leaders died and sent the world into a frenzy that still hadn't died down. They probably thought they were safe from Sinnoh's stigma, but the truth was that nowhere was safe. The damage had been done, and it wasn't going away any time soon.
"They're a little… busy right now." A massive roar outside further confirmed that. "See what I mean?" No one questioned him, only dim nodding. Riven turned around, eyeing the battle outside the store. He could work with the kid's Delphox, considering the intensity and size of those flames. He'd say… six or so badges? Meant he was pretty experienced, but also judging from the pokemon outside, they were no slouches either.
"Is there a backdoor?" He asked the group, deciding that the front door was a means of escape. In pieces that is.
"No," the store clerk replied, "that's the only entrance."
Riven nodded, breaking into a long wry smile while glancing devilishly at the trainer, Suhas. The boy swallowed tensely.
The Delphox tugged on his shirt. Trainer, I sense bad vibes.
The not-mercenary began to cackle, trying his damn best not to break into maniacal laughter, even if he wanted to. Oh he wanted to. "You ever blown up a wall before?"
Someone started sniffling, probably the store manager.
Thousands in property damage later, Riven led the group of people around the back of the tower towards one of the exits, but flames still blocked the outside, rising high into the air. Calling Viola once more, he hoped she was all right. The call did cut off abruptly the last time, and from what he'd heard, gym leaders were primary targets these days.
"Prime… Are you ok?" She answered, gasping between her words.
Her voice gave Riven a substantial feeling of relief. Riding the coattails of Sinnoh's influence wasn't ever a pleasant experience. "Am I ok? There's a mega Tyranitar out there. Are you ok?"
"I just smell like smoke and my clothes are dirty, but I'll manage. What's… going on in the tower?" As she spoke, Riven could make out the sounds of battle amongst roars and very human shouting.
"I have the people who were trapped here. Place is trashed though, apparently three groups of gangsters and three other mercenary groups got screwed by the mastermind behind this and found out about each other. They are not friends."
"Oh," Viola winced painfully.
"Yeah…" Riven added, watching ice bloom, followed by grunts and other assorted noises of pain. A Glalie zoomed by, freezing a straggler in place, combining the attack with a Cofagrigus' shadow ball. Isole and Cormac motioned to him as they quelled the fight, taking advantage of the exhaustion the other pokemon were suffering from. "We're working on it now. How are things outside?"
"Not good," she replied shakily. "The Sycamore lab and the stone emporium were broken into. It looks like they made off with a lot of evolution stones and even some of the mega stones. And some keystones were stolen from the professor's lab, they got through all the security locks without even trying…. And the trainer who mega evolved the Tyranitar, he's already destroyed a lot of shops and cafes around the plaza. We managed to evacuate the area, but he doesn't care. If the police hadn't pulled back in time, there'd be a lot of dead right now. We're trying to stop him, but his pokemon is well- way too strong. I'd say high gym leader circuit level, and with mega evolution not even a hydro pump fazed it. He's just standing there laughing, like he's mocking us…"
"That's probably not even a real trainer," Riven grimaced. "Just… hang in there. We'll assist after we get the situation controlled here. Somehow. I'm going to send the civies out. One of the trainers here has a Simipour. Should take care of the flames. Make sure the police go around to escort them to safety." If there's any police left at that time, that is.
"Ok," Viola agreed weakly. "Come quick."
A hydro pump from a girl's Simipour cleared out the flames. Entrusting the group's safety to Suhas, Riven watched them as they made their way across the broken asphalt of the plaza, where a squad of policemen waited.
Heels clacked along the floor and even without looking Riven knew who it was. Not even bothering to turn around, he asked, "You got bored already?"
"No, just wanted to see if you had any other worrying information to share," she said, crossing her arms. Behind her, ice sheathed the floor and walls, spreading upwards to the second floor. Her Glalie was having a bit of fun it seemed. "Cormac and Yuvir have this taken care of."
Then a blast of fire sent both Cofagrigus and Glalie spiraling into a nearby wall, which broke and dumped half a store on them both.
"You were saying?" Riven snorted.
She let out a quiet sigh, about to turn back, pokeball in hand.
"Wait," he said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Isole, when you were up there, did you see any suits or auction-goers with watches?"
She thought for a moment at the bizarre question. "They were all rich, so they practically all had watches of some kind."
"Not conventional watches," Riven clarified. "Digital. The men who first came in were using digital timers to coordinate the next stages of the plan. Maybe it wasn't the rich men, but the guards. It's easy to overlook them, you saw with Petalburg. Try to remember."
Isole closed her eyes, trying to remember what she saw. There were plenty of gold and jewel encrusted watches, some silver and even jade. All expensive, but none that she noticed were digital, or all that different from the standard overly expensive accessories Kalosian nobility and wealth liked to wear. She was about to tell him that she couldn't recall any when it came back to her. There was a blonde man who sat in front of her, however, constantly taking peeks at his wrist. Periodically too.
Looking back at it now, it didn't seem out of place at the time, but he wasn't wearing anything expensive, and at one point she swore she heard beeping. Like the adjusting of a digital watch. It was after that that some of the guards moved positions, muttering to themselves.
"Blonde. Sky blue eyes," she repeated out loud, grabbing Riven's attention. "He had a digital watch and he adjusted it part of the auction through. Some guards reacted to it. If he was with them… as much as I hate to admit it, the rich people up there could be in danger."
"World wouldn't miss them," Riven mused darkly. "Shame if something… happened to them."
She gave him a disappointed scowl.
"It was easier when everyone hated me, then I could be as much of an asshole as I wanted," he complained petulantly. "Gah, I hate saving assholes but I'll go up there and see what's going on. Clean up the mess here. And no, if I nab the artifact, I won't keep it to myself," he said, waving a hand. "I'm such a nice guy, aren't I?"
"Nicest in the world," Isole said flatly, rolling her eyes and throwing another pokeball out. A Walrein roared, tusks sharp and poised for combat. "Get going already, jeez."
Riven wasn't good with technology, but even he knew how elevators worked. The fact that the elevator doors didn't open no matter how hard he smashed the buttons meant that they probably cut the power. A painful climb up the stairs showed the steps to the fifth floor completely destroyed, with only a broken ledge remaining where the rest of the staircase once stood.
Now, he could have made a jump like that. Except convenient little knife wound from that jerkass Pinsir made even walking painful. And with the jumps from that brief tussle with Suhas, his leg was begging for mercy, to say the least.
Meeting the other two downstairs, where they were finishing off the remnants of the interested parties, he stopped in front of them, limping and sweating like a beaten dog.
Cormac peered down at him, directing his Scrafty to use a flurry of kicks on a Magneton. "Aren't you supposed to be saving rich dickbags right now?"
"Elevator is busted," Riven breathed. "Stairs are gone too."
"That's what's stopping you?" The older mercenary chided. "Kind of lame. What happened to 'I'm such a badass scout, I can climb anything'? Did your balls drop off?"
"In case you didn't notice, my fucking leg is bleeding," Riven grunted, showing him his blood stained pants. "And it kind of hurts."
"Yeah, I wasn't aware that getting stabbed hurt," Cormac scoffed. "Thanks for the insight."
The younger mercenary fell into thought, and slowly an idea dawned on him, his features beginning to turn into a stupid grin. Followed by some maniacal giggling. "There is another way to get up there."
Isole joined them, pointing to Riven. "Cormac, he's doing the thing."
"Great. What batshit insane idea do you have now, king of lunacy?"
Peering back up at Cormac and with the calmest, most collected look he'd made that day, said, "I'm going to climb up the side of the building. Also, I'm going to need your Ariados."
Cormac exchanged looks with Isole, who shrugged, disinterested. Expecting something like this had stopped surprising her. After that stunt with trying to take down a Noivern with a wingsuit, she'd all but accepted his downright idiotic way of doing things. Groaning, he forked over the pokeball. "You're fucking insane."
Smirking, Riven took the pokeball, went outside and proceeded to climb to the top via human sized spider.
Climbing a nearly vertical structure with glass window panes and very unforgiving handholds was impossible, even for the most deft of climbers. Normally, this would be insanity. It was one thing to be a good climber, it was quite another to ignore logistics and well, common sense. Climbing a ninety degree wall with nothing to hold onto was virtually impossible.
That is unless you had an adhesive that glued your feet and hands as you climbed. Which he didn't, because who carried that around anyway? So he used the next best thing- a pokemon that did. Ariados were arachnids, and as such, could climb surfaces normally impossible to climb with the natural adhesion their legs provided, like glass for example.
So, in theory, all he had to do was grab onto the Ariados' abdomen, pray to whatever unholy god favored him, and hope his grip was strong enough to not let go so as to not end up a pretty little splat on the floor.
Cormac's Ariados didn't seem bothered by having a human hanging from its abdomen, focusing only on climbing to the top. Unlike its trainer, when Riven explained the plan to it, it simply nodded and probably gave a total of negative and a half shits if the human fell or not. From the air, Riven could see the battle between the Tyranitar and the police. Even from all the way up there, he could tell the "trainer" was only toying with them, probably stalling for some sort of time.
As insane human and pokemon made their way up, gravity gave Riven a painful reminder why it made everyone its bitch and then some. Holding onto the pokemon was all upper body strength, given his legs were just dangling in the air uselessly. Despite having a fairly high amount of it, Riven wasn't some sort of god. His arms started to burn near the top, and he clenched his jaw trying to hold on.
The Ariados wasn't fazed at all. Obviously this was nothing for it. It was a pokemon and like most spiders, could support almost one hundred seventy times their own weight with just the adhesion effect their legs created. Gravity didn't have shit on it. Reaching the fifth floor, Riven witnessed a large group of people sitting outside the entrance to the gym, tied up and watched by men in suits. Messy blonde hair and spectacles confirmed that even Clemont had been captured.
Well, he'd be lying is he said he didn't expect something like this to happen. Probably a surprise attack, since no one had been none the wiser on this floor. And Clemont was… Clemont. Question was, what were they doing now?
Only one way to find out.
A guard was reclining against one of the window panes, rifle held loosely in his arms. To be honest, he looked a little bored. Maybe he needed some action?
And that's exactly what he got when Cormac's Ariados stabbed a leg into the window, piercing it like a piece of cardboard. Applying pressure, the window shattered inwards, sending an array of glass projectiles out onto the ground. The guard staggered forwards, bleeding from the top of his head, only to meet the flat of Riven's sword- also hitting him in the head.
The noise of the broken glass attracted the rest of the guards, but Riven and the Ariados were already on it. Silk shot out of the arachnid's mouth, sticking the men to the walls and immobilizing them. Riven took care of the stragglers, cutting at their legs then knocking them out with the flat of the blade or the hilt. Both of them made short work of the guards, so much that it felt too easy. Idiots probably returned the Machokes that were guarding the place. Oh well, their downfall.
He came up to Clemont who was mumbling and babbling under a mouthful of duct tape. Riven ripped it off, prompting a yelp from the gym leader.
"Couldn't you have ripped it off a little lighter? That hurt!" He whined, limps and mustache area red. After getting cut loose, he adjusted his spectacles. "Thanks for the save though! They came into the gym guns blazing! Literally! Of course I had to surrender because I'm the gym leader and I'm responsible for- Wait, who are you?"
"I can see why they only taped your mouth shut," Riven deadpanned. "Name's Prime."
Clemont paled. "Y-you're… him?" He squeaked, shrinking away. "I-I… Can I go… um, back with the guards?"
Snorting, Riven began cutting the others loose. "Calm down, and contrary to what most criminals say about me, I don't eat children and demand blood sacrifices."
"I've heard s-stories about you… Viola mentioned something about you. Are you, erm… friends?" He asked, backed a good distance away. Riven blinked in amusement. Compared to everyone else, the gym leader was the only one freaking out.
"More or less… I helped her out once. This time she's repaying the favor. Regardless, you're fine now that you don't have these guys watching you. Can you escort everyone downstairs? The staircases are shot but between your pokemon, it shouldn't be a problem." He turned to the Ariados. "Can you help them down then return to your fool of a trainer?"
The pokemon shot a silk web at Riven's face. He tore it off with annoyance and watched Clemont lead the rest of the people downstairs, bummed out by the fact that these guys hadn't chucked all the nobles out the window and be done with it.
Some of the underhanded things those people did… not pretty.
Making his way to the auction room, he mentally prepared himself, swinging the blade in his hand in circular motions, limbering up. His leg was still causing him pain but after the little engagement back there, he could feel adrenaline leaking into his system. The hormone would block out some of the pain at least, even if he'd regret it massively later.
Opening the doors with a slow push, then checking behind them, he focused his attention on the man standing at the podium, humming a pleasant tune. A black and red steel pokemon stood menacingly off the corner, contrasting with his cheery disposition. The man was as Isole described him, with messy blonde hair and eyes the color of the sky on a cloudless day. He waved happily, a friendly smile on his face. In his other hand, he was twirling the artifact everyone had spent all afternoon trying to kill each other over, like it was a toy.
"My I wasn't expecting you," he said, standing upright. "In fact, I wasn't expecting anyone."
Riven raised a confused brow at him. Despite his rather friendly act, there was something about this guy that just rubbed him…wrong. "Who… are you?"
The blonde chuckled to himself. "I probably shouldn't tell, but… I'll do it anyway, you look interesting enough. No pokeballs? Just a sword and probably a lot more sharp stuff, right? That's a different approach to today's world. Old school, I like it." He drew in a large breath, pointing to himself, large blue eyes brimming with excitement. "Name's Tesla. Nice to make your acquaintance."
"You are way too nice for someone that's supposed to be an enemy," Riven pointed out. "You could have taken the artifact and fucked off by now."
Tesla shrugged. "Wanted to see if I could meet some interesting people here in Kalos. Given you're here, it seems it paid off. You look pretty strong."
Riven ignored him, holding his sword up. The pokemon off to the side opened its eyes, sizing him up, its bladed body giving Riven a forced moment of pause. From its chest protruded two large circular blades, with two more blades growing out of its forearms as well as another bladed horn atop its head. Almost every part of it could be used as a weapon- hard to believe something like this existed.
"You don't talk much, do you?" Tesla asked after a moment of extended silence, tilting his head. "Strong silent type huh?"
Snorting, Riven chuckled. "You and the gym leader should be friends, you both talk way too much. Forgive me for not being too much into conversation, but I'm kind of in a hurry, if you don't mind. I need that artifact, and you gone."
"Oh really?" Tesla challenged, holding it up. "Well then, why don't you come and get it?"
Wasting no time with a snarky retort, Riven lunged, ignoring the pain in his leg while he aimed his blade at Tesla's face. But within a second, the pokemon at his side intercepted the blow with a forearm, using the other to return the attack. The hit bounced off the human's sword as he shifted in place to avoid being cut, the sheer force of what seemed like a casual flick sending him skidding backwards a solid five feet.
Given its metallic appearance, Riven guessed that it wasn't too fast to begin with, which seemed to be a trend with many steel types. While great defensively, they often lacked the speed and preferred defending and counterattacking, just like it had done to him. The movement it just displayed though… it was faster then it let on.
Recovering, steel clashed once more, the vibrations of the impact sending rippling currents along Riven's arm.
He looked at his blade and wondered if it would break if he kept it up. The sword given to him was an Orran flyssa, originally designed to break lighter armor more effectively than a regular sword; meaning that it would fair far better than say… a longsword perhaps. The point of the blade was sharper than most, and despite its ability to slash, it was primarily a stabbing weapon. Given stabbing something usually meant it fucking died, he seldom used it that way, resorting to slashes and hacks instead. Still, blade locking was terrible sword care, and he'd be damn surprised if the sword didn't lose its edge after this.
It was times like these that he really missed his blades.
The pokemon- Bisharp, he remembered- kept him at bay with bladed chops and a steady defense, retaliating to his hits with precise counters and blocks. Riven held back after his initial strategy of using speed to his advantage seemed to fall flat. There was a reason why everyone hated fighting steel types, and it was because of this. Their defense was just too good. Both hide and in their respect styles, steel types were a major pain in the ass. Unless you killed them with fire.
Angling his sword down, point first, he thrusted forward, aiming for vital points in the neck and other gaps in the pokemon's armor.
The best place to strike had to be where the metal converged, as well as joints. Applying the same logic as human armor, having metal completely cover a joint stiffened mobility, making it easier to expend energy and obviously make you a slower and thus- easier to hit target. Only problem being a Bisharp didn't have the same physiology for shit. The thing was built like an iron suit and had literally no problems moving fully encased in armor.
The thrust directed at the soft spot between the arm and torso was struck aside by another forearm, the strike turned awry. Riven ducked under a horizontal slash from the right, spinning low to the left, raising his sword in a diagonal upwards cut towards the face.
Arrogantly enough, the pokemon tried to withstand the hit, figuring that the blade would be no more effective than a toothpick against its metallic hide. Sparks leapt from the contact of sword on steel, the friction of both surfaces heating both blade and hide. Grunting as he applied more force, Riven's hands trembled as he forced his way up with it, leaving a shallow scar along the Bisharp's chest.
But Riven wasn't done. Oh no. Bisharp forgot one very important thing.
Just because your skin is made of steel doesn't mean your eyes are.
Placing all the force he could utilize, he pushed the blade upwards, into the pokemon's face. Even after it caught on a moment later, it couldn't stop what came next.
Riven's sword stopped screeching for a second as it sliced into a very fleshy eye.
Tesla seemed to react now, dropping his semi-bored smile for a startled gasp as Riven hopped over the reeling pokemon, aiming the tip of his sword for the heart-
Only to get shot out of the air by an onslaught of lightning bolts. Crashing to the floor, he screamed silently as thousands of volts of electricity coursed along his body, heart feeling like it was about to explode. His muscles twitched and spasmed from the electrical impulses, saying nothing of the pain he'd just felt. Legs and arms felt heavier than lead, the attack paralyzing his limbs.
A Luxray's gaze bored back into his own, mane sparking with arcs and crackles of lightning, head held high with pride. Its eyes contained a gleam of superiority, and… pity?
It was pitying him? Riven snarled in response, unable to do anything in his position. God he hated electric types. Hated them, hated them, hated them.
Tesla stepped down from the podium, kneeling down to be eye level with Riven, who struggled to even get on his knees. The blonde sighed sadly. "Dirty fighter huh? You cut out one of Azazel's eyes. That's not going to heal you know, he's probably really pissed. But I guess I can't blame you, you're just a human."
His Bisharp joined him, eye slashed closed, blood trickling down its metal coat. It didn't look all that bothered by it, but in its other eye Riven could see restrained anger.
"Why do you fight without pokemon?" Tesla asked sincerely. "It's a terrible strategy."
Riven looked up at him, finding the question to be simply answerable. Only it wasn't; he struggled to come up with a meaningful answer, avoiding the man's gaze.
"Is it because you lost someone important to you in the past?" Tesla mentioned idly, but despite the tone, the question pierced harder than an arrow. "I've seen that look before, mercenary. To take all the responsibility on yourself, so others don't get hurt. Never works. But you know that don't you?" He smiled at that for a moment, the expression fading away moments after. "If only the world worked that way. Where everyone is noble and nice and free."
Sighing, he held up the artifact, staring at it. "It never does though. Shame." Nodded once, and the Bisharp moved itself next to Riven's kneeling frame. "Do you know Kalos' history, mercenary?"
Riven shook his head, glaring up at the steel type. It looked gleeful, an ominous kind of gleeful.
"There used to be kings here. Kings that would do terrible things. One started a war once, creating an ultimate weapon that sacrificed the lives of thousands, all to revive the life of one single pokemon. After that, the lines of kings continued, some worse than others. Until the peasants became tired of their tyranny, and another war began. A revolution. Streets ran red with blood, and kings and queens were executed mercilessly." He paused, sky blue eyes sharp and vicious. "There was a move named after the weapon that killed all those people."
Riven's eyes widened as the Bisharp raised its forearm, standing like a general about to order an execution.
"Know its name?" Tesla picked up Riven's sword with his other hand and crouched beside him. He waited as Riven closed his eyes, whispering quietly into his ear.
"Guillotine."
Glinting off the rays of the setting sun as day turned to night, a blade swung down.