Transmission 2 - 12-02-2145 1559
Hey! Guess what? I'm not homeless anymore. And before you ask, no... I'm not making enough with the Attic to pay for a real place. But... my boyfriend offered for me to live with him and... I took him up on it. I don't even have to pay rent!
I know... I know! My mom would never approve of this if she was still here. But... she's not... Anymore. *ahem* I have to live my own life and I'd rather not live it in the pods on the teens. They smell like... ugh. You don't even want to know.
Anyways, my boyfriend's name is Marshal. We've been together like... 6 months I think? I met him after a Pokémon League Match that mom got me tickets for as a gift for graduating from high school.
He's a junior leaguer and he's older... Like... 28. I know. Way too old for me. But I like him... a lot. There's this thing that he does before he goes into a match like he looks back at me with this sexy smirk... and the way his twists fall over his face. Whew! I can't. Anyways...
He makes enough to live on 155, but he hasn't been able to pull full league sponsorship to become a Pokémon Master. I can tell he's not happy about it... but like... he lives on 155! I haven't lived above 100 my entire life!
I slept next to him for the first time last night. He's not a great cuddler but his body still felt so warm next to mine. I think I'm gonna like this... Anyway, I gotta go to work. Later!
"What the hell, Raifort!" The door burst open, the nob pounding and deepening the depression in the wall behind it where it had been stricken multiple times before.
"Trevor!" The woman behind a messy desk bolted to her feet. "'What the hell' is right! Where do you get off bursting into my office like this?"
Trev continued in, unphased by the threat in the middle-aged woman's voice, and jabbed his index finger into the top of her desk. "We had a deal!" Kofi leaped from his shoulder to her tabletop and squawked in solidarity with Trev.
Raifort plucked the glasses from her nose with one hand and used the middle and thumb fingers of the other to massage the bridge as she took a deep, steadying breath. Her deep plum-colored hair had been pulled back into its usual messy bun and her sleeves were unbuttoned and rolled back to the elbows. The papers and holographic callouts hovering above her desk indicated that she was knee-deep in work on a case. When she spoke again, she did so in a careful, even tone.
"Trevor, I understand that you are dealing with a lot right now and that you're sensitive and volatile because of that. But you cannot barge into my office, disrespecting my authority and personal space," she said, making a sweeping gesture over the piles of documentation on her desk.
Trevor's jaw muscle flexed in an effort to prevent another ill-advised outburst. "I stand by my words. We. Had. A. Deal. I do the work. I get paid. And I remain anonymous."
He pulled out his phone and flicked up the holographic display of his face with the article title "Trevor Black puts Giovanni Away for Life" hovering over it.
"That don't look anonymous, Raifort." The affectation he put on her name was accusatory.
Raifort sighed. The woman was nearly old enough to be Trevor's mother but, despite two stressful decades in the line of investigative journalism, she hardly looked her age. She had hired Trevor as a freelancer for their firm, Blackthorn Investigative, off of a recommendation from an old college professor of his at the Naranja Academy who also happened to be one of hers from several years before that. She'd ended up working there as a professor until her studies revealed a talent for investigative work, and she was able to start a private firm.
She kept Trev on for his ability to produce highly involved reports, with a level of detail that was rarely seen, even amongst professionals who'd been in the field for years, that is... if he ever produced a report at all. Any other person in that position would have been fired already, based on a pure lack of work ethic.
But even Raifort had to admit that there was an unspoken maternal connection between them that had been partially established by Trevor's mother herself. That was the real reason he was still employed. Though, it was to his credit that every once in a while, he'd bring in a big fish... and Giovanni had been the Gyarados.
"We didn't give away your information, Trevor. Our entire agency was anonymous, you, chief among us. I don't know how it got out," she said, her shoulders hitched up in apologetic surrender.
"Somebody told someone, and that somebody is going to get me killed. Rocket ain't gonna be too happy about me putting they boss away," Trevor protested.
"Team Rocket is being methodically dismantled with the information you provided us, Trevor. There were nearly two dozen arrests made this morning alone," she said as she waved her hand over one of the holograms on her desk, accessing a news site with a front-page article proving her statement.
Trev sucked his teeth and narrowed his eyes. "C'mon boss, you ain't that naive."
She paused, notably deciding whether or not to tell him to watch his mouth. "I'm not... but I know it's not as bad as it looks."
"So, what, you think I'm overreacting? You think I can just walk the streets without looking over my shoulder? Don't need to worry about some Raticate poppin' out of the shadows and bitin' out a chunk of my ass with its big ass teeth?" Trev said, gesticulating his arms to articulate the threat.
Raifort expelled a sigh and collapsed back in her seat. The old office chair creaked in protest. "Look, we'll talk to law enforcement. Maybe we can get them to put protection on you... at least for a little while," she said.
"I wanna know who did it," Trev said, expression grave.
"I don't know... Iono is good. Top vlogger in the world? Every broker in the city probably works for her."
"I don't care how good Iono is. I'm better. I would have known if something wasn't locked down," Trev said, ignoring the pretense of pretension that the statement had likely cast over him.
"Maybe it was the client?" Raifort offered with a guess.
"Lenora? Why the hell would she do that after she paid us to do the work to lead suspicion away from her? She's anonymous too!" Lenora, their client, wasn't the typical client. She was, in fact, the wealthiest client they'd ever had... probably because she was also one of the wealthiest people in the world.
Lenora White was the acting president of Silph Co., a company established hundreds of years ago and still thrives now, known primarily for its manufacturing of advanced technological products related to the Pokémon science, chief among them— the Pokéball.
Today's version of the Pokéball is a mystery to all but Silph Co. and its joint partner, Rocket Co. Its ability to capture these powerful mystical creatures in a small capsule was an enigma. But even more of a mystery was its ability to create an unnatural acquiescence in the Pokémon concerning its trainer after capture. Not to mention that all of this was accomplished while posing no lasting harm to the creatures themselves. Needless to say, this technology, amongst others like it, is what made Silph Co. such a successful enterprise.
The day that Lenora brought her case to them, Trev had been making one of his once-in-a-lifetime visits to the firm and he happened to overhear Raifort turning the woman down, stating that going after Giovanni was too dangerous. She was right of course, but Raifort didn't know that Trev already had an "in" with Rocket. It was he who accepted the case and set the terms. And they had all agreed.
"It wasn't her," Trev said again.
"The only people who knew you were the investigator on this were me, you, and her. Not even her lawyers know unless she told them, and that would violate the confidentiality clause. As far as they know, Blackthorn Investigative had nothing to do with any of this," Raifort said.
"Yeah? Well, now they know... and specifically they know it was me," Trevor said, spreading his arms wide. He knew that his situation had been too good to be true. Giovanni of Team Rocket... one of the most powerful men in the world, had fallen right into his lap.
Lenora, in her business dealings, had stumbled upon some information concerning one of his money laundering shells via a non-profit company that she was looking to do business with. The evidence was damning, but she needed professional work. And she needed it quiet.
There were several firms she could have hired. Much larger, more powerful firms. These firms, however, would put too many people on the job, making it too high profile, and that was a liability. If the information got out that she was working with someone to take down Giovanni, Team Rocket would have had her head delivered to Silpho Co.'s office in a box with a bow on it, within a week.
She needed discretion. Blackthorn was good at discretion... and Raifort knew that Trevor Black was a master of the art. Furthermore, because of his secret "in" with Rocket Co., he was able to easily use her additional information to fashion exactly the evidence he needed to put him away, no matter how good his defense lawyers were.
And so he'd done it, and Lenora had paid handsomely for both his skills and that discretion. It had all gone too smoothly. And now, his anonymity— the thing most prized by any hacker— had been sacrificed. This job had stolen that from him... permanently. His name being out in the open meant that he was a target. That was never supposed to happen. This was a worst-case scenario
"I'm going to the source," Trevor said as he started for the door. Kofi flapped back up to his shoulder.
Raifort was on her feet and around the desk after him. "Don't do this. Don't you go digging. Let me help you."
Trev paused and looked back at her. He sighed and shook his head, speaking softly. "Look, I appreciate it... but we both know there's nothing you can do."
It wasn't difficult to hack xIO_Nox. In fact, he didn't know if he could classify it as hacking as much as he could "less-than-lazy internet searching." He found that as strange as her handle looked, Iono was her actual government name.
She was a high school dropout, Pokémon Master turned internet vlogger. She was the only individual in the history of the Pokémon League to gain her status as a Pokémon Master, and then in less than 6 months, willfully quit. You didn't just quit being a master. But Iono did.
And it seems she knew what she was doing. Her fame had followed her. That fame had came from her ex-Master status as much as it did from her unapologetically anti-government stance. One could easily discern this from her daily videos posted to her vlog site, "The Iono Zone" with solid, little-known facts about Blue Light City.
Things like how there was proof that they covered up an inside Pokémon trafficking ring because 43% of the policy Force had been implicated in facilitating it. Police Commissioner Jenny, who was an activist for social justice, had allegedly been threatened and paid to keep quiet.
Or there was the fact that the political figures had knowingly taken bribes from some of Blue Light's biggest gangs in return for creating and maintaining legislation that protected their illegal Pokémon trafficking activities. To make it worse? Financial reports show that the Pokémon League itself bolsters those payments to maintain the same corrupt "laws."
Social website admins often had Iono's posts, vlogs, and articles deleted. And always she would return the next day with some new filth on the reality of their society, and somehow, it would always spread like wildfire. She was one of the most prominent examples of hope and the reality of free speech in the world, and she didn't even hide herself. Both bold and fearless. Trev might opt to call it stupid.
Aside from her fierce ideological principles, Iono was instantly recognizable by her lengthy cotton candy-colored pink and blue hair, often worn in an oversized pigtail style that looked vaguely like the large, vast-irised eyes of the Pokémon known as Magnemite. She tended to wear glow-in-the-dark blue and pink paint on any exposed skin, that brought out her grapefruit pulp-colored eyes.
Tonight, the internet sensation was hosting a party at one of Blue Light City's largest Ground Zero clubs- The Eon Flux. Located deep in one of the Sinnoh Sector's back-alley networks, The Eon Flux was virtually untouched by conventional law enforcement.
The community managed all activities, and within those thick loading bay doors, that meant dancing, drinking, gaming, recreational drug use, and most popular of all, Pokémon battling. No one was even allowed inside the club without Pokémon because one rule of the party was that when the battle sessions began, anyone could be challenged. No Pokémon meant you couldn't be challenged, which meant no entry. It was one of the unofficial fees of invitation.
Kofi hadn't undergone any training with Trev, and Trev hadn't caught him in the traditional sense. Kofi was actually his mother's Pokémon. It was evident that at some point in his past, she and Kofi had done some combat training, but since he'd been with Trev, battling was kept to a minimum. He didn't expect that he'd be engaging tonight, either.
After paying a hefty fee for not having a personalized invitation—one that he wouldn't have been able to afford before his recent payout— Trev moved into the warehouse-turned-club. The air was laden with the sweet, distinct smell of cinnamon spice, communicating the heavy use of Blue Light's favorite anti-depressant— Halogen. Hard-hitting stuff, and only psychologically addictive.
There were rumors that it was made from an extra of some Poison-type Pokémon's venom, but that never was confirmed. Either way, it proved safe and it was the sign of a good time. The smell alone was known to set "the mood..." which was whatever mood the user preferred at the time.
The intro hall was a darkened room, lit only with low azure party lights and the screens of dozens of decks set on concentric playing booths where gamers gamed. Deep technological bass music reverberated through the floors and walls. The air was partly obscured by a feint mist, generated by the Halogen smoke.
Above, there were translucent cages hanging from the ceiling with dancers of all genders giving eye-pleasing displays of suggestive hip rolling and rhythmic gyration. The walls of the containers were highlighted with numbers that increased as fans paid tips from their handhelds. Most of the partyers opted for neon-colored clothing, wigs, masks, or paint in the spirit of Iono. A great deal of them were her fans, after all.
Further inside, there was a junction point that split into three different rooms- each holding a crowd of dancers swaying to different DJs playing different music. In the center one was Iono, who was serving as a constant hype engine for the crowd as she encouraged them to party until they passed out from exhaustion. She stood on a stage, microphone set on her head with streaks of glow-in-the-dark paint slap-dashed all over her body. Every time she spoke, the crowd roared in glee.
Trev made his way to the stage, gradually. The crowd density made it difficult to move at much more than a snail's pace. At one point, he was stuck for nearly a full 10 minutes behind a broad-shouldered man who turned out not to be a man at all.
The bipedal Incineroar, with lion-like features eventually moved on after his trainer was finished dancing with her partner for three songs straight. It was only a few minutes after that Trev found the stage, and discovered that it was blocked off.
He surveyed the entrances and observed that both access points were blocked by guards, each of whom had very territorial-looking Growlithes next to them. The fire-type guard dog-like Pokémon were usually seen as cute, loyal creatures.
Unfortunately, these Growlithes appeared ready to strike at anyone who so much as looked in the direction of the stage entrance... not unlike the way Trev was looking at it at that very moment. He locked eyes with one and caught its upper lip trembling into a snarl. Trev decided it best to find another way to the world's most famed vlogger. A minute later, she came to him instead.
"You," the single word was stated with such a well-mixed compilation of amused and accusatory, Trev didn't know whether to smile or frown.
Iono approached him with one of her musclebound bodyguards behind her. The crowd, both curious and excited, parted for her. She stopped directly in front of Trev, bright pink eyes roaming over him, lips curled into a surreptitious smile.
She flipped her headset off so their conversation wasn't broadcast to the party. "You're a bold little shit, aren't you? I saw you stalking around in the crowd. Stiff as a rod. Sober as a scholar... then I realized why you looked so familiar."
Seeing Iono in person was far different from scrolling through her pics on social media. She was somehow more alluring. Her swag alone was charismatic. The way she moved. The way she looked at you through deep serpentine eyes and a secret smile like everything around her was prey and you'd just become her choice of meal.
She had her trademark oversized black and yellow jacket that somehow harmonized with her obscenely uncomplimentary hair and paint color. It had a collar that was so wide that it exposed the dark, low-cut tank top beneath it. It managed to pair sexy and baggy together in a style fully unique to her. Her style was so unique, in fact, that she'd created a ruggedly attractive brand for herself that she dubbed "Iono Wear." She made a great deal of money selling "baggy-sexy" clothes with her neon-painted logos on them.
"You don't know me, baby girl," Trev said, unamused and unphased by her looks or fame. Maybe under different circumstances, he'd be smitten. But right now, Iono was the enemy. She had exposed him.
"Oh?" She feigned surprise. "But I think I know quite a bit about you." Her blog post that put him in this situation was clear enough evidence.
"Yeah, how's that?" Trev said, crossing his arms.
Kofi made a sound that seemed to mirror exactly what Trev said, in bird speak.
Iono pouted her lips. "Aww, it's adorable that you think I'd reveal my sources to you," she dropped the mask, going stoic, her mouth donning a savage cowl as her voice dipped into a low timbre. "But it don't work that way, chief."
Trev bit his bottom lip. He was getting agitated. "Man look, this ain't a game. You put out information like that you put a target on both of our heads," Trev said. "I need to know who told you."
"Oooh. That's what's going on," Iono said, as she gave her head a light bop of self-scolding for not realizing it before. "You're scared to be known."
"I ain't scared. I'm smart. I don't have all of this protecting me," he said, making motion towards the guards behind her."
She glanced in the direction of the guards and their Growlithes and scoffed. "Bitch, that's club security. You forget we on ground zero?" She hiked her left bro up in question.
"Rocket knows I put their guy away. They're coming after me. And you put the story out... so they might be coming after you, too."
"Wait, you think I'm worried about Rocket?" She scoffed. "Rocket respects me."
It was Trev's turn to hoist his eyebrow in disbelief. This girl was insane. "Oh, is that what you think? That they respect you? I know Rocket... better than you might think. Believe it or not, I'm here to help yo' snitch ass."
"Sweet that you're so concerned, but..." she raised a hand with rainbow-colored nails and patted the side of his face like he was a cute Yamper pup. "I'm fine, thanks. Now, if you'll excuse me?"
She tapped the headset and her voice was once again amplified through the speakers. "Alright, party people, I know you're all havin' a good ass time vibin' to the sultry sounds of DJ Giacomo, but I gotta ask... who's ready for some open floor Pokémon challenges!?" She asked raising her hand, a Pokéball held tight in her grip.
The audience roared its approval.
Trev shook his head.
"Alright then. Let me get some challengers!"