Octavia threw the doors to the hallway open. About halfway down, she spotted 80 going into a door that she had passed by when she was walking with Miles and Miyu.
She jogged up to the door. On it, a white metal sign was fastened across the door, almost stretching from edge to edge. In black, block letters it read, "No Organisms Allowed". The smell of motor oil wafted from the door's seams and Octavia nearly took a step back from the scent hitting her nose.
She knocked on the door. "80, what are you doing in there?"
A muffled voice from behind the door replied to her. Octavia leaned in closer and put her ear against the door.
"80? What did you say?"
"Just a second! Getting my notes and all that jazz!" 80 said, a faint rummaging sound quickly following it.
Octavia heard the sound of metal crashing to the floor and a brief "Aha!" from 80.
"Found it!"
Despite her anticipating it and stepping back, Octavia was nearly smacked in the face by 80 kicking open the door. 80 walked out of the lightless room, notepad and laptop under her arm, and slammed the door shut with the same amount of force she used to open it. Without any pause, she started on her way to the stairway. Octavia quickly followed.
"Rusty said that they've been focussing on this case, but what are we doing?" asked Octavia, surprised at the fast pace that 80 walked at.
"We're tracking the guy down is what we're doing! We got a new scene that we need to investigate. Probably just more of the same stuff, but you'll be able to get used to what we do," said 80, starting down the stairs.
"Do you think we'll find evidence?" Octavia said, starting on the stairs herself.
"Hardly. Not much luck when it comes to dealing with The Beast."
"The Beast?"
"That's what I call the killer. You'll understand once we get to the scene." 80 jumped down the last two steps of the stairs.
"Is there any evidence at all?"
80 looked back at Octavia who was taking her last step down the stairs, "Yep! Every scene we find the same person's blood, and that's who we suspect to be The Beast."
Octavia thought for a moment, "Then why don't the normal police go after him then? Why use the SDA if they can just go at it themselves? You could probably just send them what you have and they'd be fine."
80 deadpanned at her, "Because a guy who's kill streak looks more appropriate in a video game and seems to be using a sword to do it officially crosses into the realm of being supernatural."
"Well, I guess that's true," said Octavia, catching up and walking alongside 80.
"The police hate dealing with supernatural cases, that's why we gotta pick up the slack. The only parts of the police that handles anything supernatural are the Brass Squad and Blitz Squad, and Brass only ever deal with raids, not investigations."
Octavia's thoughts went to Captain Max. He had supposedly been running the Brass Squad for some time now. In all his years, he must have seen a lot of supernatural stuff happen. So much so that, when faced with her reflection that destroyed a Steelix, he was quicker to compliment her on her victory than acknowledge what had caused her victory in the first place.
"So… are we the police then, technically?" Octavia asked.
"A little yeah, a little nah. Yeah, we handle investigations and can make arrests and shit like that. But also, nah. To the government, we're just some side project that they can push the supernatural shit on. They hate getting involved, so they made a whole supernatural force who's forced to deal with it. Fun, right?" 80 opened the door and stepped onto the street.
The sunlight blinded Octavia and she put up her hand to block it. She saw 80 walk up to the van that Miles and Miyu had driven. 80 opened the door and jumped into the driver's seat.
Octavia went around the side to the driver's seat and opened the door. She was delighted to see that she had been upgraded from the lackluster bench in the back of the van to an actual car seat.
She hopped in and put on her seatbelt.
"So where to then?" she asked.
Cleaved in half. Ripped to shreds. Torn to pieces. 80 had not understated the severity of the condition of the corpses they found. No single body had more than three limbs still attached and the blood pooled around the area where they had been severed. The moment the potent smell of blood hit her nose, Octavia felt she was going to throw up. It was all so fresh.
80 was right. This was the work of a Beast.
They were in an alleyway, the van parked just outside its exit to the main street. On either side of the alley were towering buildings, reaching far into the heavens. The neighborhood where it had occurred was Clover Garden, infamous for being a den of thieves, criminals and all those that associated with them.
The alley would've been prime real estate for any loiterer to lay back and relax had there not been the red and yellow tape stretched across the entrance from the street. In bold, white letters it read "ANOMALY IN PROGRESS". Octavia found some irony in that. From what she had been told, there was nothing anomalous about something like this happening in Clover Garden.
80 had rattled on about all the small neighborhoods in Zuheimer on their ride there. A continuous stream of speech about the stories, the crimes, the everything, came out of 80 on their drive. Octavia paid some attention, more enjoying how she felt with 80. Unlike with Miles and Miyu, who seemed to have some problems of their own, and Rusty, who seemed like he was just playing his role as leader, 80's kindness felt genuine. In a way, she reminded her of Max. Though, for Max to have the kind of energy 80 had, he would need to stop drinking coffee and skip to snorting caffeine powder.
There had been some points where Octavia had listened closer. When 80 brought up Clover Garden, she had told of the gangs and mafias that thrived there. Most were paltry gangs that caused some scuffles here and there but nothing like 'The Big Three', as 80 liked to call them. They were Team Rocket, the Heyline Mafia, and the Crimson Mafia. Team Rocket had little quarrel with other gangs, the only exception being when they fought over territory to sell drugs. The Heyline Mafia was an old gang, its
conception dating back to nearly the beginning of the Nivalheimian empire. It had been the dominant force in Clover Garden, as well as several other neighborhoods, for a long time. Lastly, the Crimson Mafia. A small organization that was more of a specter than anything else. Its reach was unknown but very much felt. It was rumored that it had formed when a schism had occurred in the Heyline Mafia's ranks.
Despite her seemingly being wired to spout out whatever information came to her mind, 80 had switched to business mode the moment they had stopped outside the alley. She immediately went to the nearest body, diligently taking notes about every last detail her
eyes could see. Octavia hovered over her shoulder, feeling awkward that she wasn't contributing to anything.
In an instant, 80's note taking stopped and she pressed the butt end of her pen against her forehead, a small click ringing out.
"Hmm… interesting," she murmured. 80 turned her head up to look at Octavia. "Come look at this!"
Octavia knelt beside her but kept her eyes away from the corpse's face, the smell was overpowering.
80 pointed her pen to something on the man's chest and Octavia studied it closely. It was an insignia. The insignia was white with a strip of green across it. Along the green strip in golden cursive were the letters "H M".
Octavia thought for a moment. "Heyline Mafia?"
80's eyes lit up. "Yep! And that's not all. We've been documenting everyone killed by The Beast for a while and all of them have some affiliation with a gang or mafia. Last murder it was also the Heyline Mafia, and the one before that was Team Rocket."
"So… he's some kind of weird vigilante?"
"Hah! Maybe. Whether he is one or not, we can't have him out here. It's one thing if he was doing all of this on his own, but if he had an aura ability well… That would be a whole 'nother story."
80 went back and finished looking over the body, double checking her notes against her observations. She stood up and stretched her arms to the sky.
"So where ya from, Octy? Don't know too much about you except that you're tall and that you absolutely destroyed a Steelix." 80 said.
Octavia was taken aback slightly, "Octy?"
80 tilted her head with a smile, "Yeah! Everyone's gotta have a nickname, right?"
Octy, huh? Octavia spoke the nickname in her head again. It felt somewhat comforting to her.
80 spoke up, "So! Where ya from?"
"I'm from Morning Grove, just outside the city. Small, suburban, you know the type."
80 raised an eyebrow, "Can't say that's too descriptive. You like living there?"
She hesitated. "It's… fine."
"Bad memories, huh?"
The closet. The footsteps. The shouting. "Something like that."
80 nodded. "I get it. I won't pry then."
"What about you? Where are you from, 80?"
"Uh…" 80's voice trailed off, her eyes no longer meeting Octavia's. 80's eyes met the back of her gloved hand. She was no longer smiling. "Well, Octy, I'd rather not share that. I'm sorry."
Octavia waved her hand. "It's not a problem. I guess I'll take a page out of your book and won't pry."
80's smile returned to her. "See? Just a few minutes out in the field and I'm already rubbing off on you. I'm such a good teacher." She put her hand behind her head and laughed.
Octavia felt herself get caught in the moment and she began laughing as well. Like the nickname she had just been dubbed, the laughter was comforting. It felt nice.
80 was the first stop laughing. "In all seriousness, Octy, don't feel like you're on an island here, everyone in the SDA has something they'd like to forget. That is what makes us powerful."
Octavia stopped laughing as confusion surpassed her comfort. "What? How would that make us powerful?"
"Where do you think desires come from, silly? To want something, you need incentive. To make an incentive, there needs to be a threat. And a threat is something that comes in the form of bad times." 80 began walking toward the next nearest body to them, this one with only two limbs, a leg and an arm. "The bad times are necessary to figure out what we want."
Octavia paused for a moment. "What if there is no incentive?"
80 simply stared back at her.
"Fuck, that's gotta be longest time I've spent examining bodies," said 80. "At least we're done now."
There had been eight bodies in total, with their limbs scattered far throughout the alley. Octavia had mostly resided in her position over 80's shoulder, but she did some brief assistance with tagging each body appropriately. It was simple, and slightly morbid, but she was able to stomach it. She had gone partially nose-blind to the smell but it still caused her to step back and breath through her mouth at times.
80 wrote down a few last minute points in her notebook and then turned to Octavia. "Alright, you wanna head back, Octy? We'll call up Rusty and have him send the actual police to deal with the rest of this."
Octavia nodded, "Sounds good."
Upon hearing the first syllable of Octavia's response, 80 began speed walking away from the scene and back towards the van. Octavia strolled along, following 80 at a slower pace.
Suddenly, she stopped. Something was off. Something in the wind. She looked back at the crime scene, the bodies were still in the places she and 80 had left them. Each body, each limb, each spot of blood, it was all the same. Nothing had changed at all and yet… there was still something there. It was like a wind that disturbed nothing around it except her.
It was that feeling. That same feeling that she felt in the Zuheimer police department. That picture on the wall of Lead Piston. That feeling of a connection.
"Hey Octy! You see a zombie or something?" 80 called out from down the alley. Octavia looked back at her, she was already standing by the van.
"No! I just… uh…" Her voice trailed off, unsure how to explain what she was feeling.
"What?" 80 ran back down the alley and stopped in front of Octavia. "What did you say, Octy?"
"Sorry, I just… I got a feeling."
"A feeling of what?" 80's tone became serious. It was such a shift that Octavia's voice hitched before she was able to speak again.
"There's… something here. I don't know what it is, but it's there."
"Where is it?"
Octavia pointed back to the crime scene. The feeling hadn't stopped. Whatever it was pointing her to, it was still there. It was so intense that it felt like she was dissociating, only focussing on the feeling and nothing else.
80 walked past her and started back towards the crime scene. Her hands were out at her sides, like she was sensing for the slightest disturbance in the area.
"Behind me, Octavia," she ordered.
Octavia obliged and trailed behind 80. Their footsteps were light, barely making any noise against the concrete. They stepped back into the crime scene, weary of the body parts that laid around them. Octavia looked in all directions at a near frantic pace, trying to find whatever the source of the feeling was, yet to no avail. Eventually, they passed the scene and went even further into the alley.
Just as suddenly as it had appeared, the feeling intensified. Octavia jerked head to where she felt it.
"There," said Octavia, pointing her finger. "It's there."
It was a dark green dumpster, the sides of which were covered top to bottom in graffiti. Its large black cover was covered in grime and if the large crack running down the middle was any sign, it was nearing the end of its lifetime. The feeling was pointing her there.
80 stepped forward with her hands at the ready. They approached the dumpster and eventually stood in front of it. Like a switch that had just been turned off, the feeling disappeared and Octavia found herself back in reality.
"I-It's gone," said Octavia.
"What is?"
"The feeling. It's not there anymore."
80 groaned and dropped her arms to her sides. "Damn it, that's a pain. What, did I put my arms out and look like a jackass for nothing?"
"You did look pretty funny," Octavia admitted.
80 smiled and gave Octavia's shoulder a small punch. "Don't beat yourself up over this. Instincts are important, you gotta trust 'em. Whether it's a wild goose chase or not, always go with your gut, got it?"
Octavia nodded. She couldn't understand why the feeling had failed her. It seemed perfectly capable of making out Lead Piston but not something in a sketchy alley for some reason. "Yeah, I got it. I-"
Something caught her eye.
"Octy? Did I leave you speechless with my impeccable advice?" said 80.
Octavia ignored her. Her eyes were focussed on the four fingers that were just barely sticking out from under the dumpster's cover.
"Octy?"
She reached for the fingers and touched them. They were warm. Just as she pulled her hand back, the fingers twitched.
"Octy, what are you d-"
The fingers pushed up and the dumpster's cover was flung upwards, rotating on its hinge until it slammed against the alley wall with a loud crack. Octavia could see that the fingers were attached to a hand. It grappled the side of the edge of the dumpster.
Suddenly, a man rose up from the rubbish of the dumpster, desperately gasping for air. Octavia nearly screamed.
"Fuck! I thought I was gonna die!" the man yelled.
The man wore a dull blue hoodie with a white fur trim around the collar, although it was difficult to tell from how much dirt and filth was on it. His skin was tan and his eyes looked to be almost golden in color which contrasted against his dark purplish hair. Octavia could see bandages around his neck. He seemed to be around her age, maybe a bit older.
"What the fuck!" shouted 80.
"Hey, hey, quiet down, alright? I just got done not dying, give me a break," he said, finger combing his hair to get rid of trash that had made itself home in it.
Octavia was bemused by his appearance. He looked completely disheveled, especially compared to all the other people she and 80 had seen on her way to the alley. "Um… are you okay?" she asked, slight caution in her voice.
The man shot her a look. "Whatcha lookin' at, Blondie? Huh?" he spat. He attempted to get out of the dumpster by placing a foot on its edge but lost balance and fell face first onto the concrete ground. Octavia saw he wore black jeans.
"Are you alright?" Octavia said, almost on instinct. The man quickly got up, answering her question. There weren't any signs of cuts or scrapes on his face.
"Yeah? What's it to you?" The man walked up to Octavia but was stopped short by 80 putting herself between them. Octavia was shocked by how tall he was, meeting her height and surpassing it by at least two inches.
A sudden intrigue hit her. Was this who the feeling was pointing her to? "Who are you?" Octavia asked.
"I'm telling you, lady, why do you want to know who I am? More importantly, who are you?" he said, visibly irritated. He pointed a finger at 80, "And you, shorty, same question."
"Shorty!?" 80 scowled, "Listen here, you've got some nerve jumping out of a dumpster and giving lip like that. We're the ones who asked, so you answer, buddy."
The man put his hands up against his chest, "Woah, easy there. You got a short fuse or something?" He chuckled at his joke, a sentiment which 80 did not share. "Alright, fine, you can just call me Lemon."
"Is that your actual name?" Octavia said, stepping from behind 80 and over to her side. "It's a nickname. Now, you two, who are you?"
"I'm Octavia."
Lemon looked at 80, "You?"
"80," she said curtly.
"Yeah, 80 centimeters maybe."
"Cool it, Sourpuss!"
"Watch yourself, Shorty!"
80 and Lemon stared each other down, neither one giving an inch. It was as though time had stopped and the only way to restart it was to break the glare. Neither one was willing, as it came at the cost of one's pride. Octavia could see equal levels of determination in their eyes; neither was going to give up easily. But it couldn't be both of them, someone had to lose eventually.
And that someone was Lemon, who broke eye contact and stuffed his hands into his pockets. 80 held her head high and smiled.
"Whatever," said Lemon, kicking against the pavement. Suddenly, his stomach growled loudly. "Fuck, I'm hungry. See you two later." Lemon turned and started walking out of the alley and towards the street.
"Yeah, that's right. Run from your superior," 80 muttered, giggling slightly.
Octavia watched as Lemon walked away. The feeling had led her to someone again but this time it was someone alive, someone she could actually speak with. Lemon seemed like the last person she would know, yet the connection was still there. She couldn't ignore the chance.
Octavia stepped towards Lemon. "Do you want me to buy you lunch?"
Lemon stopped and turned his head back. "Lunch? You serious?"
She felt a tap on her shoulder and saw 80 beside her. "Uh, Octy? A word, please."
The two turned their backs to Lemon. Octavia could see confusion embedded on 80's face. "What's the problem?" she asked.
"Why the hell are we just asking this guy if he wants lunch? He just got done messing with the both of us," 80 said, taking a peek behind her to look at Lemon.
"He's in a bad situation, we should help."
"I get where you're coming from but a lunch isn't gonna improve his situation at all."
"80, he woke up in a dumpster! The least we could do is to try and help."
"Octy, what are you-" 80 stopped and rubbed her forehead, "Look, Lemon's homeless. If we do this, all that's gonna happen is he's gonna have a good meal and then probably find another dumpster to sleep in."
"Well… why can't we just make his day a little better?"
"Hey, you two!" Lemon hollered, "Are we going for lunch or what?"
Octavia looked at 80 who fiddled with her hands incessantly. Eventually she stopped and dropped her hands to her sides in defeat.
"Alright, fine," 80 said, not hiding her displeased tone. She turned towards lemon, "Hey, Sourpuss! We're heading to The Parlor!"
Lemon sat across from the two women at their booth in The Parlor. While he had spent the majority of his life in Zuheimer, he hadn't ever come to this restaurant. It was a small establishment, no bigger than a decently sized apartment, and had a fair number of tables and booths, half of which were occupied. The floor was a checkerboard of black and white tiles, occasionally broken up by a tile that had been cracked, broken off or completely gone.
If he had to put a word to it, modest would be the best fit.
They had ordered their food, a large pizza, some time ago and were waiting patiently for it to arrive. He opted to space out instead of making conversation. It wasn't because he wasn't in the mood for talking, rather he didn't intend on butting heads with 80 again. Blowing an opportunity to get free food was not something he was planning on doing.
Compared to the other patrons in the restaurant, he could tell that he stood out. His scruffy appearance aside, he slouched in his seat, nearly taking up the entire width of the booth. He didn't much care about what glances he got. Getting his fair share of those same judgmental glares on the street had inoculated him against such things. He was homeless, and he wasn't about to hide it.
A waitress, dressed in a black dress, came over to their table with their pizza on a circular platter. She set it in the center of the table.
"Enjoy your food!" she said, giving a smile.
"Thank you," replied Octavia with a smile of her own.
Lemon looked over the pizza. Half of the pizza was covered in sausage, pepperoni, and black olives for him, while the other half was just sausage for 80 and Octavia.
Without hesitation, he went to work transferring every slice that was his onto his plate. He could smell the intertwining aromas of the meats, cheese and dough of the pizza.
It had been such a long time since he had experienced pizza of this quality. His mouth watered and he brought a slice of the pizza to his lips. His attempt to take a bite was full of regret as the molten cheese stuck to the roof of his mouth. He breathed rapidly and chugged his water glass until the burning stopped.
"Having a good time over there?" said 80, smirking at him.
He placed his slice back down on his plate. "Very. It was delicious, if you must know."
"Really? How could you tell with your now non-existent taste buds?"
"I assume the same way you're somehow going to taste that bland pizza." He gestured toward their half, "I mean, come on. Only sausage? That's it? I feel pity for you."
"Hey, come on, it's how I like it," said Octavia, taking one of the slices.
Octavia was an interesting one. He was surprised that she had asked him out to lunch at all, especially considering how he acted in the alley. He didn't regret doing what he did. You had to be vigilant on the streets of Zuheimer and any number of things could have happened if he ever let his guard down. Fortunately, it seemed like Octavia was a nice change of pace, she
Oh.
Oh no.
What was she doing?
Octavia had grabbed the bottle of hot sauce that had been set aside with the other condiments and begun pouring a generous amount on her slice of pizza. He cringed at the sight of it. This was no ordinary sin, what she had just done was an unforgivable act in his eyes. If he were a judge, she would be found guilty and hung for her crimes.
And she didn't stop! The hot sauce nearly coated the entire piece. He was disgusted, yet couldn't take his eyes off it.
"What the fuck?" he said disgusted, almost vitriolic.
"Hmm?" Octavia looked at him with confusion.
"How much fucking hot sauce do you need on one piece of pizza?"
"Enough so that it's good," she replied flatly.
"Okay, well I have two problems with that. First, who the fuck puts hot sauce on their pizza? And second, why the fuck would you put enough hot sauce on that slice to nuke a small island nation?!"
"Yeah, I'm actually gonna agree with Lemon here, Octy," said 80, her expression similar to Lemon's.
"Well," said Octavia, putting down the hot sauce and bringing the slice close to her mouth, "maybe the small island nation in my mouth likes being nuked." With that, she took a bite.
Lemon deadpanned at her. It was unbelievable what he had just witnessed. Looking across the table, 80 looked like she shared the same thought.
Octavia closed her eyes and made a small smile in the midst of what was surely a fiery maelstrom wreaking havoc in her mouth. "Blissful," she simply said.
He shook his head and resisted the urge to shutter at what he saw. The hot sauce debacle was far from wasting any breath over. He could at least be grateful that it wasn't his pizza being tainted.
Lemon leaned back in his seat, his stomach full. It felt good. His half of the pizza was completely gone and there was only a single slice of the women's pizza.
They had made small talk for the past forty five minutes or so. Nothing serious, just casual talking and the occasional banter between him and 80. Maybe he was too quick to go so hard on her. She had spunk, and that he could respect.
Octavia took her phone out and checked the screen. Her eyes went from relaxed to serious and she nudged 80, who was stretching her arms up.
"Uh… 80, should we be getting back now?"
"Huh?" said 80. She looked at Octavia's phone. Her eyes went wide. "Fuck, it's late! We gotta get back, Octy." The two started scrambling to get out of the booth.
"Woah, hey, what?" Lemon said, sitting upright, "Where are you two going?"
80 delved into her pockets and produced several bills. She set them on the table. "That should be enough to cover the pizza. Sorry for dipping, Sourpuss!" The pair made their way towards the exit.
"Hey! What did you call me, Shor-!"
Before he could finish, they had already walked out the door.
"-ty."
Lemon looked at the leftover slice of pizza. He picked it and took a bite, slightly disappointed by the lack of flavor compared to his own pizza.
"What a weird bunch."
The van screeched to a halt in front of Joltin' Joe's and its two passengers stepped out. Octavia raced around from the passenger's side to meet up with 80.
In front of the cafe was Rusty, standing with his arms crossed and a rather displeased expression.
"Ah, shit," Octavia heard 80 whisper.
Rusty dropped his arms to his sides and walked towards the two women. "Well, 80, I assume you can tell me why you took so long coming back?" His tone didn't show anger, though there was a hint of judgment that Octavia could make out.
"Well, you know, they say time is relative right? I mean, let's be honest, boss man. Is two minutes really that different from forty five?" said 80, putting on a smile.
Rusty was not impressed. "Uh huh. And?"
"Aaaand fine. I'm sorry for taking so long."
He reached over and patted 80 on the shoulder. "Go inside, I'd like to talk to Octavia for a moment."
80 gave Octavia a sympathetic look and shrugged her shoulders. She walked past Rusty and flung the door to Joltin' Joe's open. In moments, she was gone and only Octavia and Rusty remained.
"She's quite the ball of energy, eh?" Rusty said, turning to Octavia.
"Uh… yeah. I guess she is," Octavia replied, being careful with how she responded. While it seemed that Rusty was more teed off at 80 than her, she couldn't be too sure.
"I trust that she was a good guide for your first assignment?"
"She was good, though… the smell was awful. "
Rusty chuckled, "I'm afraid it doesn't get better." He put one hand in his pocket, "As an update, all of your belongings have been moved in. Unfortunately, there aren't any available dorms right now so you'll be camping out in the training room for the time being."
Octavia fidgeted, "Oh… that's um…"
He waved her off, "I know, it's not the best. We'll see what we can do but this is just a temporary solution."
"I understand."
Rusty gave her a smile and put a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, Octavia?"
She looked at him and saw no anger. She felt herself release the tension that was weighing her down. "Yes sir?"
"Welcome to the team."
Octavia nodded, "Yeah."
Octavia stood in front of the door labeled 'Training Room' that was near the end of the SDA hallway. She grabbed its handle and pulled it towards her, earning a squeak from the door.
The door opened into a staircase going downward, though these could hardly be compared to the ones used in Joltin' Joe's to get into the SDA. These stairs stretched down for what looked like hundreds of feet and Octavia could not see the bottom from where she stood.
She trekked down the stairs, tensing as she heard some creak with age. She felt tempted to increase her pace but was apprehensive. The stairs were long, yes. Recovery from a broken neck seemed to be longer.
Eventually, the stairs stopped and led to an open doorway. Not seeing another way to go, Octavia stepped through and entered into a pitch black room.
Unsurprisingly, the room was completely dark. Though, if the echoes of her footsteps were any indication, it was a sizable room at the least.
Next to the doorway was a panel of several lightswitches. Octavia placed her hand against all of them and pushed upwards, turning them all on. At first, it was just the lights closest to her, then it quickly spread across the length of the room, every last ceiling light turning on.
She was barely aware of her agape mouth with how large the room was. It was easily the size of a football field, if not larger. Though, its features were rather sparse. It seemed that there was no equipment or supplies or anything of the sort. Against the far wall of the training room, there were several boxes stacked up. She presumed it was her stuff. And next to the boxes was…
When Rusty had told her that she would be 'camping out' she didn't know that he meant it so literally. A large tent was set up and had its entrance flaps opened.
She walked over to the tent and was pleasantly surprised at the size of it. While it was nowhere near the size of her bedroom back home, it was quite reasonable considering it was a tent.
Octavia grabbed Ace's pokeball from her belt and let him out. With a flash, he came out and saluted his commander on instinct. After, however, he looked around at the new surroundings and became confused.
She smiled at the sight of him. "Hey, Ace. I know you're confused but we're gonna be staying here for a while, alright? I think it's best for both of us if we hunker down and get some rest."
Ace clicked his knives together and nodded at her.
"Let's hit tomorrow with all we got. Right, Ace?"
He saluted her again.