[ 2:1 ]
[ Character Difficulties ]
for all that talk, it's actually pretty difficult to get a vehicle moving with no fuel. don't be surprised if you have trouble moving at first. it always takes a while to pick up steam.
try to remember there are other players too. campaigns with so many parts often conflict.
That night, Specter dreamt. Only in flashes, bits and pieces, unconnected scenes of a bigger picture. Blue and red and green and purple.
Akin to schools of wishiwashi in riptide they slipped by, indistinct blurs of people they didn't know and faces of people they did. Gym leaders, elite four, Cain, Victoria, Amethyst, a dizzying array of trainers with multicolored hair. Impressions of pokemon, both Subpoena and others, some of them recognizable and some of them not. Places they'd never been to and never even imagined, wide blankets of grass and endless swathes of sky and black concrete spires stretching upward forever.
Any orientation is lost as immediately as it's gained. Scenes collapse into each other, colors turning and falling to shrapnel and sparks. Gray walls spill into waves of sand into high, stony arches into starry purple oceans. The people melt, brown and blue and black eyes becoming a blur, becoming an indistinct hail, becoming nothing at all.
Any orientation is lost as immediately as it's gained. Scenes collapse into each other, colors turning and falling to shrapnel and sparks. Gray walls spill into waves of sand into high, stony arches into starry purple oceans. The people melt, brown and blue and black eyes becoming a blur, becoming an indistinct hail, becoming nothing at all.
Another set of eyes, even brighter against the swatches of the dream, blinked out at them from the shade between images. Their hazy awareness within the mist splits and cracks down the middle.
Cacophony fades into quiet.
Someone greets them from within the mess of pictures, sensations, and feelings, and the dream cracks, shattering with the remnants of a hello bouncing around in their ears. The rest of it slips between their fingers like sand through sieve.
Specter wakes up breathless and immediately falls off the bed.
[ TRACK: Reborn: Pokemon Center /:
Pokemon Reborn OST || Amethyst / Richviola ]
It takes several minutes for the headache to abate enough for them to see straight. They lay on the ground long enough that Subpoena wakes up and lazily pokes its head over the side to check on them.
Moments pass. No clarity comes.
The bright light from the hallway illuminating the room coupled with the impact of the ground only makes their headache worse. There's something digging into their spine.
Dull pain radiates out from their bad side when they reach around for the offending item.
The reborn crest from the train crash greets them, just as scratched as it was the day before. Had it fallen out of their coat?
They stare at it for a moment, trying to sort out their thoughts through their pounding headache.
The league manager, as quick-footed and tight-lipped as she had been, had been kind enough to set aside the room for them. They'd taken her offer, despite the invisible stipulations that were no doubt attached, though Cain and Victoria both cited having prior engagements.
Amethyst, cold and clinical, had explained the facts:
With the recent tragedy meaning that Reborn would once again have to close its so-recently opened borders, Reborn would have to handle their inter regional problems on their own.
Her rather overt attempts at pushing the remaining trainers toward the league challenge were proof enough of what avenue of 'handling' she was banking on. Trainers were the lifeblood of any region: marketing, sanctioned vigilantism and unpaid pseudo-ranger forces all on their own, to say the least.
But this dream, and the unsettling atmosphere in the city, even moreso the Grand Hall, worse still in the basement… Further unease curled in their stomach.
They had the sudden feeling they'd stepped into something much worse than they'd first thought.
"Feeei?"
Their fingers stutter over the crest. They drop it to instead scrub their fingers over the side of their face, like they could parse out the senseless remnants of the dream by touch.
"Subpoena." They sigh a little helplessly, feeling like one half of a whole. "I think I fucked up."
The leafeon huffs softly and jumps down to butt its head against their uninjured side. Their other half, they suppose.
Its face says it all. That isn't new.
Despite themself, they snort, rubbing away the glass-shard feeling still lingering in their sockets. "You're so mean to me."
More insistently, it shoves at them again. They obediently let it push them to their feet.
Irritation as much as its interference gives them strength; they were here for a reason, weren't they? They needed to get up.
Don't just sit around. Stand up. I know you can. Subpoena says without words. Its paw shoves their knee back in place when they buckle momentarily. "Efei." Specter.
The room spins in a nauseating callback to the dream, and then further when they have to shake out their too-long hair, but they stand.
Pain still lingers in their head and side as they get up, dressing themself in slow, deliberate movements. Their bad shoulder still feels like—well, like they were flung out of a moving train. With the extra added content of everything else, too. Their fingers catch when they feel at their face again.
Subpoena follows them through the motions, sentinel as always, prodding them toward the few capsules of ibuprofen that had been left on their bedside table. It takes two pills, twenty minutes and Subpoena's urging to notice the blinking light of their pokegear beside their pillow.
10 A.M., it reads when they pick it up. They'd slept much longer than they'd actually meant to. The device had probably been blinking for two hours, not that they'd seen.
There's messages idling in their inbox. Cain, Victoria… Amethyst.
STARTER SQUAD !
Love ❤ /:
Dont forget to meet us in the Hall!
im a little further out so ill be a
little late :(
Victory-a ࿊ /:
I'll be there soon! I'm actually here
already to speed up my leaving
paperwork, so I'll meet you there.
:/ Ghost
✔
Love ❤ /:
Booo you could at least add a heart ‹/𝟹
(Read at 10:49 A.M.)
They do not have the energy to add a heart. But it couldn't hurt to follow up with them. …Did they change Specter's chat name?
The other set of messages are much less welcome. They don't recall giving Amethyst their number, but it's likely she frisked it before she gave the gear to them in the first place.
AMETHYST
This is Specter, correct?
There'll be a space open for you to
meet our on call doctor for any injuries
that occurred during the crash.
The league will cover all expenses and
The doctor can help you with anything
else if need be.
(Read at 10:53 A.M)
The deep breath they take to settle their nerves aggravates their slowly soothing bruises.
Maybe they were just chasing zorua. Just being paranoid, just startled from the situation yesterday. That was all fairly standard, wasn't it?
Subpoena chirped, centering their thoughts. It sets their wariness to the side for a moment, instead directing a pointed look at the middle paragraph. You're not going, are you?
"Of course not," they snap without really meaning to. "Are you insane?"
One doctor for an entire train? On top of whatever was going on here? It was bad enough how obviously people had stared at them the day before. It would take a kingdom mandate or a sunny day in the distortion world before they went to a doctor, no matter how sanctioned, for anything less than a bone fracture.
They'd managed to skip out on any life-changing injuries this time. There wasn't a need for doctors or hospitals.
A paw tapped at their hand. They hadn't noticed that they'd again lowered close enough to the floor that it could reach them.
It's scolding. Don't be that way. Then lighter, it reaches up onto their bent knees to nudge its head against their chest. I'm with you on this.
…
Right.
Dreams and dilapidated region and their own inability aside, Subpoena was with them in all of it. They owed it this much.
Their previous situation didn't matter. They'd both jumped on the train with one goal in mind. Getting stuck in a knot this early would slow them down more than was acceptable. They had things to do.
This is what we were made for, is what they translate Subpoena's words to, so this is what we do.
They stood up again with a sigh, taking their hand back and reaching for their hat. "Yeah." Deep breaths. "Okay." Finally pulling on their hat feels right, and they hold their arm out so that Subpoena could jump into it. "Cmon. I may be able to skip out on a doctor's appointment, but we have social obligations."
"Feeeii."
Before they leave, they catch their own gaze in the corner of the mirror.
Normal enough, besides the exhaustion and the everything else. There's a tired look in their eye, and their dark hair is somewhat tousled, but they're fine. Their starter's head is tucked under their chin.
Somehow, after the incident that had happened yesterday and everything now, that felt like a comfort. They were still themself. Still Subpoena, too.
Quickdraw, Specter.
They can't quite summon up even a weak smirk, but their stance is set and their feet stay steady and their grip is strong enough.
They'll deal with this.
Trigger won't pull itself.
Specter "MSN" Ghost
N/A ⦻ Any ⦻ Serious
- - - - - — — —
— — — — — — - - - - -
— — — - - - - -
Leaving the room brought a potent sense of anxiety to them. Once more the supernatural pressure that filled the Grand Hall settled over their shoulders like a second coat, and it made their steps instinctually lighter to compensate.
The room they'd been given was an offshoot of the Grand Hall basement level. It was only a hallway and door's separation from the actual league. The thought of it made them wary even beyond the oppressive aura the hall had, but Amethyst had charitably provided them with a door that locked.
It soothed at least an inch's worth of their mile long list of problems.
They stuck out like a sore thumb next to the science and office type workers as they walked to one of the desks at the end of the room, and the few eyes they caught lingered long and critical. It turned their stomach with both familiar irritation and the hostile wariness of a spooked pokemon.
Specter also really didn't want to think about the number discrepancy between the amount of office workers and the singular doctor they had on call.
"Yefai." Relax. Subpoena hummed a careful leaf-whistle tune into their cheek. Drop your pride a moment.
If I don't have my pride, what do I have? A winning personality?
No. Wow, thanks Subpoena, very nice. You have me.
They tighten their grip a bit as they step over to the administration Amethyst had directed them to, tucking one of the leafeon's ears back so they could see. Yeah, okay. Stop trying to distract me.
The desk worker looks up at them and then down at the computer. He's so plain that their gaze almost slides off of him. Dark hair, darker gray vest. There's a card on his shirt: Official Inspector, Interim Head Organizer. "Specter Ghost?" …MSN Ghost. "Yeah, I see. We have you right here."
The image of their trainer card reflects off of his glasses, so he's not lying.
"I'm here for the battle and survival aptitude tests?" Subpoena's ears perk back up into their vision at the mention of battle.
Key clicking.
A bit of silence follows. They awkwardly reset their stance when he doesn't respond.
More key clicking. He also clicks his tongue, rudely. "That won't be necessary."
"What?"
Another page loads up. The text is too small for them to read on his glasses. "Were you listening right? That won't be necessary," he repeats himself, briefly looking up at them. "Amethyst herself has put in the motion to fast track your challenge."
…What?
Said carefully, "I… wasn't aware you could fast track past the aptitude tests."
They weren't aware because you couldn't fast track an aptitude test. That was the whole point.
Anyone could be a trainer. There were youngster and preschooler trainer classes for a reason.
However, few people could be gym challengers, because it entailed a journey. A journey across different environments that oftentimes involved poverty, feral pokemon, thieves, disasters. The whole nine yards plus the entire right half of Giratina just to be sure.
Just because Specter wasn't a twelve year old kid who had just gotten their first pokemon didn't mean the test wasn't mandatory.
The keys continued to click.
"League Manager Amethyst is our region's utmost authority. Therefore, all final decisions fall to her."
All final decisions?
The inspector rolls his eyes. "I'm not exactly sure why she's putting in a motion on an obvious ruffian like you," Wow. Glad to see common decency is alive and well. "But if Amethyst thinks it will improve the League in any way, who am I to judge?"
He holds out his hand for their trainer card and absently stamps it.
For a short moment, their mind wanders a bit too fast.
What was the authority of Reborn? If all decisions fell to Amethyst, what authority did the gym leaders and elite four have? Were the gym leaders just set pieces for challenges? Did the elite four even do anything at all?
And for that matter, who even were the elite four?
From what they'd checked on their pokegear, the elite four were close to being absent entirely. There was no official material on any of them, none of them made public appearances, and the times they gave their opinion, it was often in anonymity. The only things about them openly disclosed were their types!
Was there no checks and balances system?
If Amethyst is organizing events and Amethyst is overseeing paperwork and Amethyst is being judiciary and Amethyst is advertising the league and Amethyst is welcoming new trainers and Amethyst is going through with investigations and the elite four and gym leaders are apparently doing jack-fuck-all, then who's driving the bus?
The 'short' moment stretches on.
"Is anyone else getting this privilege?" They asked eventually, somehow managing to not linger on the word 'privilege.'
"Most likely. You were entered first, but all the trainers left from the crash are being offered sponsorships."
…As callous as it was, the lack of alive applicants was probably helpful to the league, if they were offering all of the remaining trainers a sponsorship. Briefly, they wondered what the exact numbers were on how many had survived.
They frown.
What is going on here?
Is this based on the league wanting to hurry up its new applicants for posterity, or… something else? Surely this was only setting up the few who wouldn't pass the aptitude tests for future, more dangerous failures?
Amethyst really was a businesswoman through and through. She wasn't even trying to hide her intentions. If only they actually knew what those intentions were, then they'd actually have an idea of how to conduct themself.
"Is there any reason why?"
The worker looks up for the second time to give them a brief, uncompromising stare over the rim of his glasses. "Any non-public information about decisions regarding sponsored trainers is strictly classified." You idiot.
What? It's their business in the first place! This whole motion has gone through without an explanation, and entirely without their consent!
"I—,"
Subpoena bites at their coat before they can ask something else. It's an earned response, if not exactly one they'd like. Despite the twitchy, nervous knot in their ribs telling them otherwise, they're not likely to get much more information than this if the employee is already being so cagey.
They should probably stop harassing service workers.
"Right," they say, almost quieter than the ambient noise in trying not to be dangerously acidic. "Thanks."
The worker doesn't even pretend to look up at them when they leave, and it makes their uncomfortable suspicion turn bitter instead. Was this actually some kind of scheme, or just wild incompetence?
What does it matter, they think to themself, pressing into the gap between Subpoena's ears to avoid anyone looking at their face. It's awful either way.
At least they hadn't been marked as a ghost specialist like yesterday. Having to clear that up just one time was still one time too many.
They needed to sit down.
They took the opportunity to lean against the top of the stairwell, practically crushing their partner to their chest.
All final decisions fall to her.
Talk about abuse of power.
Action they could deal with. Easily, even. They could navigate battle just fine, analyze the details of a threat with the eye of a xatu, or maybe just a rabid houndoom. But the never-sure, classified, slow-creep and monotone crawl of governmental affairs…? Ominous or otherwise, it was all indecipherable.
Specter wouldn't claim to be an intellectual of any type. They could call themself a number of other things: somewhat strategic, usually cunning, quick on the uptake, not completely blind. What they couldn't call themself was knowledgeable about anything they were doing here.
Well, if they took a class for every time they thought they were stupid… they'd probably fail all of them and still not have a degree. So. At least they're not here to be a pokemon professor.
"Verity, Valor and Acuity," they complain into Subpoena. "Haven't even stepped outside and I'm already lost."
The leafeon shakes its head in response. Thick paws pat at their shoulder in lackluster reassurance. "Yefai." Relax.
Easy for you to say…
They stand there for a while. Crack their neck to try and alleviate the dregs of their headache, pop their fingers against Subpoena's spine. Ache in irritation, breath synced with their partner's.
Anything they could do besides try to internalize would be disruptive. They need to just stop before they explode.
It's maybe a few minutes before they're disturbed.
They sense Victoria before they see her, a flicker at the edge of their awareness that has them tuning into the sound of her footsteps.
They'd expected to meet her before starting their aptitude tests, but apparently they had time now. It would admittedly be better than making her sit around.
"Specter? Is that you?"
"Ugh," they reply intelligently. Subpoena shakes its head and waves for the both of them.
They have to blink a little through the fluorescent white panel lights to see her. She's wearing the same thing as yesterday, though her coat is wrapped around the shoulders instead of the waist this time. She looks much more awake than they feel.
She offers them the same smile from yesterday as well. Patient, polite, practiced, not quite fake. "How are you? And leafeon as well, of course."
They squint at her. "Subpoena," they correct her on the name first. Then, "If you wanna turn around and pretend like you haven't seen me, I won't stop you," said while pressing the back of their skull to the cold wall.
"What happened?"
"Our beautiful region's equally beautiful government."
The noise she makes is both understanding and amused. Maybe concerned as well. She has a nice voice.
She reaches out a hand, meaning to just give them a consoling shoulder pat. They dodge under it anyway (seriously, she went for that shoulder?) and wave off her subsequent apology.
Though, actually. "Victoria," they ask, just to be sure. "Did you do your aptitude test here?"
"Oh!" She looks a little surprised. "Yes, I did. Did you do those yesterday? That must've taken a while." Then she frowns. "Right out of the crash, too."
Yesterday. Was that how long she assumed the tests would take, or was that the time that they had been originally scheduled to take them? Was she not informed of the 'fast tracking' either?
They share a strained look with their partner. Does she really not know? Subpoena shakes its head. Just keep talking.
"I actually took mine a while back," she continues, snapping them back to reality. "Maybe a few years ago?" She turns to them, meeting their eye and tilting her head. "What about you?"
Their fingers twitched. "I passed." It wasn't technically a lie.
Subpoena huffed out something that likely translated to "by omission."
Victoria taps her foot, looking slightly amused. "That's good, but you have to give me something to work with here." The gentle smile still on her face tells them she's mostly kidding. "I can't carry the conversation by myself, you know."
That knocks some of the past hour out of them. They're surprised enough that their sudden embarrassment doesn't show on their cheeks.
Is it not obvious that they don't know what to say? Maybe she's just glossing over it, ignoring their obvious ineptitude out of some kind of ingrained mercy. Maybe that's what they taught at Apophyll, or something. Zen learnings are mercy-adjacent, probably.
They resync their breathing. "…Sorry. Amethyst didn't tell me exactly."
Her face fell into some sort of resigned exhaustion, even at the half-truth. "Of course she didn't. She's always just so—ugh." She shakes her head and changes the subject. "Sorry. That's not the point. I'm supposed to be helping you get used to the city."
Specter only had to blink once at her for her to roll her eyes and wave off their immediate question. "You're misunderstanding me on purpose. I don't mean I'm being forced to do this."
… "Sorry." Again. They had a feeling they'd be getting into the habit of saying that very quickly.
"Don't be sorry. Come on, there's something going on in the square today, and we shouldn't be late."
She turns around before they can agree. They have to shift their weight to follow her, counterbalancing their partner against their chest. Does she just expect me to follow? She's not even looking back to see if I'm still here.
Like it wasn't actively freeloading off of their personal space, the leafeon gave them a sarcastic look. So she's just like you?
Absently shaking their head against the accusation, they lengthen their steps to walk at Victoria's elbow. "There's an event?" The fact that a city like this can even afford to hold an event is surprising in itself, besides the donphan that the idea invited into the room. "The day after all that?"
The way she obviously struggles to suppress her feelings on the matter makes it clear that they aren't the only one that needs a smoke.
"It's lucky for us, at least," she says instead of commenting on that, averting her eyes. "The markets are one of the only reasons Peridot hasn't been entirely barricaded, besides the factories. They only happen once per month, and they decided not to cancel it despite the crash…" she trails off briefly.
When she seems to realize there's not anyone around to scold her, she finishes her thought with a mulish "Not like they could afford to, in both ways."
They snort. She had to be really repressed if she thought that Specter of all people would chew her out for saying something like that. It really did seem like she was constantly moderating herself. Tell me what you really think, Victoria. "Both ways?"
"The markets are the only reason Peridot hasn't been made a factory-only district by now," comes the explanation. "And Julia is the one backing them, so…"
The thought trails off leadingly.
For a brief moment, they think back to the exuberant girl from the day before. They hadn't delved into much information about the gym leaders specifically, but the enthusiasm, half-forced or not, that she had greeted the explosion site with was downright alarming. Compounded with the fact that her ace was an electrode. Even if it wasn't malicious, having to placate someone like that while she was bored was not something they'd want to do.
Both of them give that thought adequate pause.
A call-out interrupts their solidarity, though.
"Hee~eeyyy—-! Victoria~! Specter~!"
Cain crosses the Grand Hall in a light jog, waving over at the both of them through the eyes he'd drawn at his outburst. There's an easygoing smile on his face. "Sorry I'm late. Did I hold you up too much?"
His hair isn't tied up, instead waving about his face as he messed with it. He looks very… free. For a moment they feel a bit jealous, but it fades just as quickly. Mostly because he's still not wearing a real shirt.
Specter gives him a somewhat delayed salute the best they can where Victoria just smiles back. "Really, you shouldn't be so loud in public places," she says, not really meaning it.
"Some people like it that way, you know?" His cool grin turns a bit catty. Victoria lets out an exasperated noise. "Sorry, sorry, really. I've just been outside too long, it's loud out!"
A literal ray of sunshine, isn't he? Even distinctly relaxed as he is, he carries a bright presence with him. Victoria does the same thing, but hers is distinctly more calm, so standing next to each other, they kind of balance each other out. It's still weird, but you can't choose the knife you get stabbed with.
Cain crosses his arms behind his head and they have to look away, wishing they could cover their face. Every trainer that was actually worthwhile had their own unique personality, they supposed.
"Specter!" He gave them an equal salute, not so much loud as he was enthusiastic. If meeting Julia was akin to speaking with a megawatt light bulb, this greeting of his was almost worse. They'd only just met the day before and he already seems happy to see them. It's almost disconcerting.
"Good to see we didn't scare you off too quick," earns him a disdainful sort of noise from Victoria. "It'd be a shame if you left us so soon~," like they hadn't bullied Specter into agreeing to go with them.
Ugh. His eyes are too damn bright. He needs to put those things away.
Instead of anything else, they gave him a weak "I'm surprised you remembered my name," while pressing their face behind Subpoena's ears, who snorts at their embarrassment. That was a lie, because overall they found they were rather memorable, but what were they supposed to say?
"I never forget a cute boy's name," he purrs back.
Knowing he was like that all the time didn't make weathering it any easier. They might as well paint themself red. They don't correct him, instead grumbling an insincere "Watch your mouth."
"Are you offering?" he chirped. It's only been maybe a minute, and Specter regrets every part of this conversation already. If they had something to throw at him besides their pokemon, they might have.
"Flirt on your own time," Victoria injects humorously. If it didn't only fluster them further, they would've been impressed on account of how it made Subpoena audibly gekker. "I have better things to do than mediate you two."
"Do you really?"
"…Besides making sure we don't get lost? …No."
Understandable.
"Is there anything of use at the market anyway?" They asked, remembering the admittedly scarce contents of their bag.
They'd have to buy metal polish and a knife, but honestly, with the projected state of things, they weren't sure if this was the best place to get anything. The rest of the city wasn't looking good, either. They couldn't really afford to risk either purchase being of bad quality.
The answer is, unsurprisingly, a resounding no. Discounted items on a good day, plus the occasional trinkets, but nothing in particular. They didn't exactly need super potions in a place that was more likely to be infested with trubbish than any real threats, and they didn't need more than a pocketful of pokeballs for the same reason.
"How do you people even live here."
There's a half-feral, almost satisfied gleam in Cain's eye when he says "tenacity!"
Victoria, of course, provides the much funnier and much more sensible answer of "I don't."
"Actually, is Apophyll really that different? I've never been."
"I'd be surprised if you could be anywhere across the lake, seeing as it's nearly purple."
"We have boats!"
Specter snorted. "Do they work?"
"Um. No."
As it turns out, the boats do not work… ever. Victoria had actually been teleported across the lake by her sensei's medicham, which was trained to do so. Getting to and from Apophyll was basically impossible by sea without wrecking a boat or sinking. Because of the pollution and the poison types the pollution propagated. If you wanted to go, you either paid for a teleport or you had to get a license to fly.
"…I suppose we trade out the factory-produced smoke for organic smoke."
There was a volcano on that island too, yeah. They wondered how that worked. Did the students just inhale ash all day? Maybe that was better than breathing in the air over here.
"Actually, part of why I didn't fight Kiki's request for me to do the gym challenge was to… I don't know. Do some good, I guess?" She fidgeted a little. "I mean, in relation to the smoke and ash and garbage, you know?"
"Can't relate," Cain replied with all the sensitivity of a crash landing Salamence, easily lifting the conversational weight from Victoria's shoulders. "I left to get out of the wastes."
All three of them, interloper leafeon included, give him identical sardonic looks.
He unlinks his hands to rub sheepishly at his neck. "I know that look. We~ll, I'm not a poison specialist anymore, so that's something!"
Subpoena made a pointedly disgusted noise at the mention of poison types. Thankfully that seemed to substitute for Specter's reason to come here.
You're going to have to give them something sometime, their partner projected even while it covered for them in the same breath.
I don't have to tell anyone anything I don't want to. I'm better at parrying than you are.
"Hey, since your name is... Specter Ghost," Victoria pipes up, "Do you have a ghost type?"
"That's typecasting," they accuse, because if you were going to assume someone was beholden to one or another type, you should at least be correct. And it was their name, ghost types could step off their territory, no matter how common themed names were. "And no. Just Subpoena."
The mentioned pokemon audibly sighed at the shallow answer.
It was ironic, but Specter didn't actually care that much for ghost types. Could remember handling them easily, true, but that was all. They were fine. Almost every pokemon was fine to them.
Cain sighs dramatically. "Aw, too bad. Everyone seems to have themed names around here. Even Victory-a has her fighting type shtick."
Victoria glared a little, knocking his shoulder, but it was fond and mostly borne of obligatory loyalty. "It isn't a shtick if you know what you're doing with it."
They can tell even before Cain's started grinning that she'd set off a trap. "Well, I can certainly show off some expertise with my shtick~."
"Jail," they yip, nearly choking in their attempt to turn their amusement into a cough. Wow, that was worse than they thought it would be. "Prison."
The both of them laughed at that response, loud and unrestrained. It strikes Specter off guard, the both of them laughing at once. They have twin smiles—not identical, not even close, but they look like friends, even at a distance.
It only takes a moment for them to fall back into conversation, tossed jokes and sharp reprimands of "Cain, some semblance of modesty, please?" versus "Aww, you know you love me~!"
Preoccupied as they were, they don't notice Subpoena's mounting impatience. Maybe a minute of this passes before their horrible bastard beast promptly decides to employ its special secret technique, saved for moments when it can pretend to be as intellectually dull as a common housepet: biting their hair.
They equally promptly drop Subpoena like a sack of bricks. Unfortunately Subpoena is a trained ninja and hits the ground on all fours.
If we were not in public, Specter tries to project to it, I would fight you right here.
"Yeyae," Loser, Subpoena snaps back, flicking its ears with an unbothered expression. Let's go. We're falling behind. You like them, don't you?
Oh. Oh! Assumptions made about their feelings aside, they catch Cain and Victoria turning around to find where they'd been lost and speed up, belatedly jumping into motion after them. Subpoena follows behind.
The two of them are… chatty. Both of them, excessively. Cain more than Victoria, but both of them just talk, welcoming them back into the conversation effortlessly. Like it was no big deal.
It's disconcerting how easily the two make room for them at all. It's not something they can recall being used to. The two treat Specter like both have known them for a while.
And they talk a lot. A lot more than they're used to, even with their partner for company. Hell, they'd been talking for, what, a little less than an hour? Instead of going to the actual event they were meant to be at already.
It could just be that they're just acclimated to being on their own. Maybe normal human beings talk this much. Orre wasn't the friendliest of places, and Specter, admittedly, wasn't the friendliest of people.
Not that the situation was bad. It certainly made walking out into the city feel a little less dangerous. It was just…
They struggled to put it into words, even trailing behind the two as they were.
The careless openness tugs at them, in a way. Especially after the one-two punch of the train into whatever Amethyst was thinking to pull over them. It's nice, very nice, but it's foreign enough that it stirs some kind of instinctive hostility in their chest.
It makes them feel like lashing out, like a delcatty getting its belly scratched too intensely.
It sharpens their tongue in their mouth; draws them taut like a bow string; has cutting remarks that would make them both scramble away jump quickly to their lips. It makes them feel like being mean, instead of just a little caustic. Instinct has them almost reaching for distance, drawing up their fingers into their palm to widen the space between them with something more than words.
They don't, and they don't want to. But the impulse is there: an easy way out.
It's not a good impulse. Not a necessary one.
They think that's probably why they can't recall a single person from Orre they'd even offhandedly contact now that they're in Reborn.
Thankfully, Subpoena is there to moderate them, absently nipping at their legs when they get too twitchy, but it doesn't help with the root cause. So they idle in their limbo state of I don't know what I'm doing and try to blunt the metallic bite of their edges to butter knife instead of blade.
"Hey, Specter, what do you think?"
It's difficult work. They hope it's worth doing.
"I wasn't listening. What?"
"Okay, so, Flareon is the only fully evolv—,"
"That's not true."
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Trainer Specter M.S.N. Ghost / ID: 20493
Subpoena : Leafeon : /
This Leafeon is proud of its power and is of Adamant nature, with the ability Sharpness and the secondary ability Chlorophyll.
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KEY ITEMS: Pokegear
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As of Alola, which is the extent of Reborn's pokedex, Incineroar and Salazzle join Flareon as fully evolved fire types who cannot learn solar beam. There are more after Alola, but those are the relevant ones.
Anyway, here's chapter two, a little later than usual just because I don't really like fanfic's formatting. Next chapter will come out here on the 10th, but the whole fic up to chapter 5 is available on the archive under 'zltry'. The main plot of Reborn will probably start on the 8th or 9th chapter. I try to update every month, but chapter 6 is the devil and I've been on effective 'hiatus' for a little while.
When I first wrote this chapter, I had a lot of trouble with Victoria. She's a very multifaceted character, but in the beginning she's a bit bland because she's incredibly repressed. Hopefully she comes across okay.