Forbidden Waters – 9

The sky was murky with the slow inevitability of the bitter Hoenn winter sunrise, with stars drowning in an indigo abyss thinly veiled behind rivers of putrid smelling ochre clouds, flowing from the legions of concrete exhaust-stacks that stabbed at the city skyline. Outdated but cost-effective halogen lights buzzed from galvanized-steel street poles, hazily illuminating an energetic gaggle of men and 'mon that had corralled their vehicles into a blockade surrounding the front gates of a sleek white and chrome medical facility, proudly flaunting its twisted emerald-green corporate regalia. The freshly constructed 3D words affixed beside the emblem read, 'Ability and Nature Clinic.'

"Two worlds, one struggle!"

"TWO WORLDS, ONE STRUGGLE!"

"AP-OH-GEE, you asked for trouble!"

"AP-OH-GEE, YOU ASKED FOR TROUBLE!"

"Now we're gonna make it double!"

"NOW WE'RE GONNA MAKE IT DOUBLE!"

Jun lurched forward from the effort of shouting into her megaphone, nearly tumbling into the crowd of protesters from her perch atop some other person's rust-pocked pickup truck. Like everyone else she was bundled up in overlapping winter layers, puffing her up like she'd been wearing one of those blow-up sumo wrestler suits. She lashed her free arm around her chest to make sure Franklin stayed secure as he poked his little head out of the front of her oversized second-hand winter parka to chant along with the crowd. His festive red and white ushanka slipped off however, and then it was snatched out of the air and tossed back onto his noggin in an extraordinary display of grace from Jimmy, who had been itching for any excuse at all to show off the weeks of agility training he'd done, sticking the landing on the ice and snow perfectly with a one-armed thumbs-up and a wink.

"Every soul is beautiful!"

"EVERY SOUL IS BEAUTIFUL!"

"This is inexcusable!"

"THIS IS INEXCUSABLE!"

The crowd jeered and booed at the trickle of technical staff and other employees shambling and shouldering past the blockade to try and clock in on time, welcomed by burning steel barrels filled with cheap combustibles and a sea of disgusted faces. She couldn't really stop anyone from walking in, not unless she wanted to end up on the wrong side of a swarm of Jennies, but she sure as hell wasn't going to let it feel even remotely convenient for them to do so.

"Jus-tice now, no matter how!"

"JUS-TICE NOW, NO MATTER HOW!"

"You know what this place is for?"

"YOU KNOW WHAT THIS PLACE IS FOR?!"

Lobotomy and war!

" LOBOTOMY AND WAR!"

Franklin wrinkled his muzzle and pointed his paw at an overweight, balding man who was shivering from the thirty-minute trudge he had to make on this particular ass-crack of a morning. His shirt was bright and clean but wrinkled with far too many years of wear and tear, the notches in his belt worn out in a line slowly tracking his expanding waistline.

"Just can't take a single measly day off from ruining helpless lives, huh? Ah, it's OK, I get it; bills to feed, mouths to pay. You're an important guy, I bet."

His own face, which was wrinkled from a lifetime of exposure to bureaucracy, twisted into a puggish snarl as he hastily walked into Jimmy, grunted and shoved him out of the way with his knee. "Distortion, go find a job, you crunchy bitch."

Jimmy looked away down into the snow, blushing with humiliation. He stepped out of the way like he knew he was supposed to. Even knowing the kinds of things that were being done behind those gilded walls, they couldn't stop them from entering. It ate at him more than he let on.

Franklin snarled and hissed from his position in Jun's bosom, hat flopping haphazardly over one eye. Then he started trying to wrench himself free and out into the cold air. "Eeeebee! Eboi eeveeeveevee!"

"Yeah, hands OFF! How 'bout you waddle on back to kindergarten and learn how to people, jackass."

He whipped around in a fed-up huff, kicking slush free from the hem of his pants, and spat in their direction. A fat glob of green flu-season grade mucus nailed Jimmy right on the cheek as the man began made his way through the front gates.

The crowd began to rumble like the start of a rock-slide while some other supporters instantly rushed beside Jimmy to wipe his face and show support.

Jun gasped and put a hand to her mouth as Franklin leapt out of her coat with angry tears in his eyes. He flopped onto his tummy and the nubby remains of his hind legs and then plowed himself through the slush with his front paws towards the man's leg. "Veeeeeee!" The spunky 'mon clamped down on the filthy damp fabric, pushing past the terrible taste of cheap detergent and asphalt, then he whipped his whole body back and forth and tore a massive strip of cloth away. A scrawny stalk of liver-spotted skin and wiry hairs that stood up in the cold was exposed for the world to see.

"You asked for it, reject," the man yelled as his hand slipped in and out of his sweat-soaked waistline. He unfurled a mean-looking black steel baton and raised it above his head, poised to nail Franklin with all the meager force he could muster.

"Don't you FUCKING DARE!' Jun shrieked, face white with horror and instinctively starting to run for her baby.

She screamed as he swiped down and gouged a hole in the asphalt. Franklin rolled around like a Feraligatr drowning its prey and dodged the weapon. They were totally oblivious to the mass of furious men and 'mon that were surrounding them, now with fists and jaws clenched. Jimmy pushed himself back into action and jumped high in the air, wrapping his arm and legs around the man's swinging-hand. Jun leapt at the man's feet and shielded Franklin with her body, trying desperately to coax his quivering jaw loose.

"Mr. Inoue!" The cold, authoritative voice broke through the chaos like a chisel and hammer.

Everyone turned to see Dr. Cress in a sleek black overcoat and an equally jet colored scarf. On his shoulder was an Eevee with clear bruising hidden below freshly brushed fur all over his body and what looked like a shiner over his right eye below the layer of soft fuzz on his face. Despite his size and the man's advancing age, they both carried an imposing aura that commanded their domains.

The Eevee on Cress's shoulder made an exaggerated wincing sound. "Ooooooh, that is not a good look, Kenji."

"Hush, Indoles," Cress muttered. "Mr. Inoue, please don't bother going in to collect your things. I'll have them mailed to you."

The crowd stood still like a forest of rime-coated evergreens.

"Wait, Dr. Cress, I.. Her Pok-"

He snapped his fingers and pointed at the man who still had a berserking Eevee ripping up his pants, a Machop wrestling at his baton, and a terrified young lady hanging from his extremities. "Two-Forty-Two Hoenn Penal Code; section twelve, subsection Blissey. Battery occurs upon intentional and unwanted contact between any piece of your person and another's. I too think this entire demonstration is an gratuitous waste of time and money but, as I'm sure you remember, I refuse to allow anyone to sully the honor of my organization this way."

Jun used the pause in the chaos to pull at Franklin's body, tearing away half of the guy's pant leg. She held him close to her chest as he growled with triumph on his face and a tattered banner of victory hanging from his muzzle. Mr. Inoue was so taken aback that he didn't even notice when Jimmy swiped his Baton and ran to stand with his friends.

Dr. Cress' eyes fixed forward towards the building as if he no longer acknowledged Kenji's existence.

Indoles smiled and waved his paw like a bored royal on a parade float. "Don't bother using us as a reference. Ciao!"

In a way that Jun was uncomfortably familiar with, Cress stopped mid stride and snapped his eyes sideways. "Miss Singh," he addressed her. Polite but totally indifferent.

Her face froze in the frigid air, eyes locked onto Cress's uncaring gaze. "Doctor."

He nodded. "To make up for my company's failure to maintain strict professional conduct, I'd like to offer you a free full service clinical treatment. Maybe we can scrub out some of… that…" he said, pointing to Franklin, who spat out the shreds, stuck his little tongue out, and blew him some raspberries.

Jun's face didn't shift at all. "There's nothing in creation I would hate more, Dr. Cress."

Cress nodded, then resumed his unending march towards progress. "I figured as much. But could you imagine how happy little Franklin would be to finally feel the snow with all four paws.

"Enjoy the weather, Miss Singh."

\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/

"One-Hundred-K in outflows to supplies, maintenance, and replacement?!" Richard's father cried out, eyes practically bugging out of his tired Kantonese skull.

Richard scratched the back of his head, blushing. "Yeah, that's not a joke."

Stanley, who was wearing a disgustingly orange, red, and green holiday Nickit sweater , sipping at a particularly boozy cup of Exeggcute Nog, squinted at him in disbelief. "Richard, you understand this makes things difficult to explain to your sponsor reps, right?"

"Daaaad, is it THAT hard to accept?" Richard's head rolled back like a Muppet with half its head flailing around barely attached as he talked.

"Yes, because I can guarantee someone is going to submit a tax inquiry on this team when they inevitably see that, after hiring Emil, those costs somehow went down instead of up; so far down it really sorta looks like fraud." Stanley's didn't seem concerned, though. It seemed a lot more like an air of curiosity in what his son might say.

Richard looked around, got up, wandered over to the window of the 2nd floor den they were nestled into, and watched Emil standing under the massive pavilion patio. Emil had removed the furniture from the area, did a mountain of paperwork for it, and shaped it, legally anyway, into a league approved 'indoor' battle arena. Vaporeon was, as she had been every single day, wrapped around his shoulders like a gorgeous shimmering shawl. Franklin and Jimmy were facing off against Rhydon and Incineroar in a training setup while Jun sat at a table beside a propane heating lamp with blankets wrapped around her and a cup of recovery tea. "You wanna be the first to tell him to stop?"

He and his father stared at each other for a good long time. Then they both howled themselves breathless with inebriated belly laughter.

"But, in all seriousness, expect an audit next quarter." Stanley took a long, slow, savory sip from the edge of his crystal glass cup. Then he got up, wobbling a bit but righting himself just in time to not collapse and eat the tasteless shag carpet on the floor, and then leaned against the wall where his son was pondering his future.

"That expense, though. Does she even listen to you anymore? At all?"

Richard's eyes rolled around from ear to ear and he chuckled at the question. "When it matters."

Stanley's eyebrows lifted and he sipped again. "Oh, well, good. Because even a computer illiterate caveman like me has heard people keep calling Emil Vaporeon's security blanket trainer. It is difficult to play it off in new sponsorship deal negotiations when it gets brought up."

Richard raised his hands up and shrugged. "Vaporeon is definitely Em's 'mon. She's only mine on paper. Long as Team Stone keeps rockin' it, I don't care what weird things they get up to. Short of kidnap'n'murder'n'shit, anyway."

"On paper is where money matters, son."

Richard shrugged again. "I'm sure a trainee that protests the existence of the largest, most influential League research firm on the planet is difficult to play off too."

Stanley rubbed his temple as he sipped again. "She'll learn which boulders are worth rolling uphill in time. Your grandfather was a hard man, son. But he never once quenched the fires burning in his childrens' hearts."

They both were startled at some movement in his sweater as out from the pocket - which had been knitted to look like a Nickit's tail crawled a pearlescent white Gimmighoul wearing a tiny immaculately crafted 3-piece suit. On its shoulders, like a Tansu worn on the back with two thick straps, was a thick scarlet checkbook bound in gorgeously preserved Charizard leather and gold. Gimmighoul chirped in delight as he tipped his glass to their mouth and let them take a massive drought of the rich alcoholic beverage for his size, then slunk back to their warm festive hidey-hole.

"'A loose leash is a mark of honor," Stanley mused.

Richard chuckled again and smirked as he thumbed his nose.

"'Not to be confused with a lost one. You must need a ride home tonight, pop. Sun's still up and you're already quoting grandpa."

"Gotta unload all those awful sayings onto someone before I go. And you're the only one with a head big enough to hold it all."

Outside, a much less relaxed scene was unfolding.

"{Shut the hell up, my head is just fine!}" Rhydon roared, hot mist billowing up from his throat to the washed out winter sky.

Franklin scurried and strafed a couple of vicious tail smackings with a cheeky grin on his face, leaving long tire tracks behind him "{Nah, yer head is way bigger than normal. It's like, soooooo big I bet it breaks the Pokecenter Boxes when you visit.}"

Rhydon's tail came crashing down in a slow and telegraphed arc. Franklin grunted and smacked his back wheels down. He curled his body up like a spring and then spun and leapt away from Rhydon's tail, making good use of his fancy custom-made spring suspension from Uncle Emmi. He stuck the landing five meters away from where he lifted off.

Rhydon roared with humiliation. "{I'll show you who's head breaks boxes!}" he shouted as he reached for an empty water pump crate and then lifted it over his head.

He was stopped in his tracks, suddenly drowned standing by Vaporeon with a squarely placed torrent of water from her mouth. Machamp snagged the crate that slipped from his claws and plonked it over his buddy's head, sitting him down. Damp and subdued.

Emil wiped his face dry of the side splash from her attack. He then looked to Richard's other 'mon and asked, "He always been this easy to Taunt?"

They all nodded. Slowly. Even Rhydon with the crate over his head.

"We'll work on that. Franklin. Good job learning to Taunt. Not everyone's got that short of a fuse, so stay creative."

Franklin squeaked in delight and nodded at Emil as he wheeled over towards Jun. He reached back to his hind quarters and grabbed a thick belt with his teeth, yanked, and loosened the main restraint for his prosthesis. The intricate assembly of wheels, springs, straps, and supports tumbled into an equally intricate heap as Franklin launched himself up from his butt into Jun's lap.

She sniffled and coughed, then found the energy to smother him in motherly love. Ptptptptptptptptpt. She kissed his forehead again and again as he kneaded and wriggled himself into the blankets his mother had entombed herself within like a little gemstone buried in a vein of rock. "Good job, baby."

Emil nodded and shrugged his shoulders. "Sorry team, I'm not as psycho as Rich. Take the rest of the day off. Might be the last one you get for a while if we get a good roster placement."

"How prescient," Stanley said from behind the window where he and Richard had been observing their assistant trainer.

"Hm?" Richard had totally forgotten his dad was there. In the morning he always thought of what he'd do for his 'mon, how he could push them beyond. In the evening he seemed to do something a little different. He was too busy wondering what ways he could push Franklin. Ways he could push Jun. Ways he could push Em. Sometimes even his own father. Motivating people was so much harder than motivating a good ol' Pokemon. They didn't always show up when you called, they almost never did what you said, and they got really indignant when you made them fight things for you. It was his real challenge, the one mountain he might never truly surmount.

His father slipped a long delicately-folded letter in the old Kantonese style bearing a hand stamped Pokemon League emblem into his fingers. "Champion League Special Qualifier. League hasn't held one for 5 years."

Richard didn't even take the time to open the letter. He simply rubbed the hand pressed parchment between his fingers, savoring the sensation as he considered what his father just said. He blinked once, then twice, then he smiled and laughed. "Nice of 'em to think of us."

"I didn't even have to apply. Had no idea this was taking place until this morning, when a private courier chased me across my own lawn with a League Meowstic for hand delivery assurance. This is a big deal, son."

Richard slowly unfolded the letter to read where his own road to victory would begin. "I know."

"It's gonna be awesome."

\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/

05:20:50.

Cress walked the empty, echoing white and chrome halls of the place he once named Jade Labs fifteen years before. He shook his head as he ran his boots through a specially-shaped brush riveted to the floor above a grate, ridding himself of the clumps of snow that had clung to him like barnacles. Then he removed his boots and left them in the dressing hall, opting for a pair of perfectly fitted custom sneakers stowed away in his immaculately organized and hand labeled locker. White with absolutely no frills, just the way he preferred it.

After stowing away his winter skin and donning his lab coat, he surveyed his appearance in a tiny, round, 120mm mirror glued to the back of the locker at exactly eye-level and brushed a few stray strands of hair back into formation with a stainless steel comb. "Need to do something about that nonsense outside," he mumbled to himself as he reached into the locker for a tasteless white survival ration nutrient stick, surgically peeled it open at the glue seams holding the wrapper together, stuck the thing into his mouth like a cigar, then folded the wrapper up into a little origami Zubat and slipped it into his pocket as he enjoyed the texture of chalk and glucose crystals.

He checked his watch, a rugged plastic thing with a polymer strap and a rudimentary segmented digital display.

05:24:59.

"Daaaaddy! Good moooooorning!" Indoles said as he hobbled around the corner of an intersecting hallway, carrying a little black tablet in his front paw.

Cress turned around and inspected his charge. His legs were shaking with what was obviously physical overexertion, the fur around his paws had loose patches, and the smattering of bruises all over his entire body had spread significantly. He clearly had taken a shower in the last hour to wash the smell of sweat from himself and brushed his fur back into place, as was his way. Even still, his little face was absolutely glowing with pride as he plopped himself down on his haunches at his daddy's feet, holding the tablet up with his mouth.

"Something positive to report?" Cress asked as he wiped some grime away from his glasses and then reached for the tablet.

"Mhmmmm," Indoles hummed cheerily, tail wagging in anticipation of his Father's approval.

Cress's eyes scanned the device. "Growth Metrics - E556:"

"Scapular Support | +.02%

Radial Compact | +.2309%

Bone Density | -.0046%

Joint Flex | +.5133%

Joint Taut | +.0005%

Biceps Brachii | +3.8766%

Quadriceps Femoris | +5.1023%

Biceps Femoris | …"

He paused his professing as he raised an eyebrow.

Indoles' eyes were open wide with desire for praise, like little bowls held out waiting for benevolent alms to fill them like a long awaited desert rain.

"+7.45%"

Indoles' tail wagged even more furiously. "Is… is it good?"

Cress nodded, smiled, and then finally held his arm out for Indoles to take his position up on the good doctor's shoulder. "Unprecedented."

He rubbed his furry cheek against Cress's, purring in pleasure as he was rewarded with ear and chin scratches. "So…"

Cress rolled his eyes as he started checking his schedule from the tablet. "Yes, we can go shopping together."

He thrilled out loud, hopping from shoulder to shoulder, then hugged his head, nearly knocking his glasses to the ground. "I love you, daddy."

He grumbled at his hair being ruffled about and his reading being interrupted, but looked side to side ensuring nobody was around and then he held Indoles close to his head in what was the closest thing to an affectionate bear hug Dr. Cress was capable of.

"Now, let's get down to business. It's an important day."

Indoles peered at the screen, face awash from the blue display in the unlit hallways. "Project Ashen-Blade?" He read aloud, confused at the name.

"You've been busy with your own Project, I didn't want to distract you from your progress."

Indoles huffed and checked his claws for any imperfections. "I like knowing about all the things you're up to, Father."

Cress hummed as he tapped away at the screen, leaving the dressing halls and turning for a large pair of electronically locked stainless-steel doors labeled 'Surgery.' "There are many things you still do not know. Some things you'll never know if I have my way. For now focus on the moment. I need a good assistant until Dr. Inoue's spot is filled."

The 'mon's little ears perked up. "You want me to help in the theater?!" He practically gushed with excitement.

"Yes. As it turns out, you're the only living thing with clearance for this project other than myself, Arceus bless." He pushed a heavy set of swinging doors open and then flicked a light-switch on.

Both their heads whipped sideways, eyes in pain from the sudden blinding lights dangling from the industrial chandelier of high intensity bulbs hanging over a strange sooty black operating table. Nearby was a massive supercomputer, arranged in a stack of servers humming not unlike the quiet roiling that could always be heard in the ears when lost in a subterranean cave system.

"Daddy, I've never seen THIS before." He said, mouth agape as he circled a complex array of computer screens that surrounded a plush captain's chair of sorts like a shark devouring any scrap of knowledge he could corner.

"This is one of those things. Please sterilize yourself. I'll be needing you to administer medicine while I operate the Nanotom swarm." Cress said, name dropping the insane technological advancement as if it were some long awaited unremarkable package being delivered on any old Tuesday morning.

Indoles hopped up and balanced himself on the edge of a big industrial sink, scrubbing his paws with an abrasive caustic soap that smelled like cascoon-pesticide. "You said that like it wasn't something extraordinary."

Cress strapped himself down with biometric reading strips with sticky pads. Then, he reached behind his head, lifted a hock of quickly graying hair that was draped over the base of his skull, showing off a metal plug that had somehow grown in tandem with his neck, man-made material merging seamlessly with flesh. He laid his head back into the chair. Its headrest was in an ergonomic doughnut shape that exposed the back of his skull above an intimidating hydra of black cabling.

"When you're ready, I'll need you to plug that cable into my neck."

"Yes, Doctor!" Indoles shouted out from the sink, taking on the role he'd watched from hundreds of other interns and experienced doctors before him.

Cress reached out to a lock suspended from a mechanical arm and typed a coded sequence onto an uncharacteristically ancient plastic dial pad with no markings. It opened with a hiss and inside was a white bar-coded stasis ball. He pressed the release button, popping the ball open to release a semisolid effervescent white light that wriggled and morphed as it fought to bring itself into shape.

Indoles tapped and swiped at the tablet with his hind paws as he started disinfecting the fur on his front legs and popping on a cute little goggled rebreather. "Bilateral AK Amputation today on Subject L-9934. Then implantation of… something with an SKU that makes no sense." He began to sweat, but his little face didn't show it. "Exciting, but isn't the procedure to have four surgeons on hand for this, Doctor?" He hopped around on his hind legs, ensuring his paws didn't touch the ground. "Not that I'm nervous, sir."

"Correct, but you'll soon see that we've made all that unnecessary."

The energy snapped into place with a soft ringing noise and what stood before both of them was a Lucario with light gray fur and scarlet eyes socketed into a fierce spear-shaped face. Unlike typical expressions of his genome he stood half a head higher than cress and his scar-ridden hide writhed with the activity of his extremely developed musculature. Like Cress, at the base of his skull was an identical metal plug tucked into his fuzz.

He looked around in a panic, assessing his exits and assets before breathing a few times and relaxing.

Indoles whistled, marveling at the absolute monolith of a mon with a smile. "Look at YOU, big boy. Good morning."

"Good morning, E-556."

Indoles's face widened with surprise. "Oh? I don't believe we've met. Not that I'm at all disappointed."

"I studied human language from your recordings." He said, quickly and with almost no emotional inflection. In fact, something was off about the voice but he couldn't place what exactly it was.

Come to think of it, something looked off about him entirely. It bothered Indoles, but he wasn't about to make a dumbass of himself right then and there. If he was gonna do that at the very least he'd like to trade his reputation for a crowd of laughing faces.

Indoles giggled. "I knew there was a reason you hid that camera in my room. What you mixed with, huh? It looks good on you."

"That's classified," both Cress and Lucario 9934 said in robotic unison.

Cress turned his head towards the Lucario and, unlike anyone else in a long while, stared it dead in the eyes. "Lucario Nine Nine Three Four. Have you been briefed on this procedure?"

"Yes, doctor," 9934 said, snapping to attention.

Cress nodded. "Tempest"

"Squall," he replied.

"Curry."

"Saffron."

"War."

"Tranquility."

Cress nodded one final time. "Lay on your back up there," Cress said, pointing to the table. "Indoles, administer 280 cc's Toxelcane; brachial intravenous injection."

Without a single protest 9934 parkour vaulted up onto the table with a thud and closed his eyes, wincing from the lights.

Indoles waddled over and snagged a vial from a nearby fridge. It took him longer than a human would, what with his lack of long spindly digits, but he made do and carefully measured out the dose with a syringe. He grunted as he leapt up onto the table beside him and poked the arm. "I hope you packed your bags, handsome, cuz you're going on a trip."

Cress flipped a switch from a suspended panel. And the whole room was tinted neon blue as dispensary units in the ceiling released an acrid smelling antibiotic gas. Their skin burned with pinpricks until the blue light subsided. "Indoles, lock my interface."

"Count down from one hundred," Indoles instructed 9934 and then scurried over to a biohazard disposal bin.

"One-hundred, ninety-nine, ninety-eight, ninety-seven, ninety-six, ninety-five, ninety-four, ninety-three, ninety-two, ninety...one...ninet...ey…"

"Wow, he made it to ninety," Indoles said as he heaved his front legs around some thick metaneuro cabling, aiming its locking clamp with a wicked silvery spike at the back of his beloved father's head. He lingered there, finally shaking with the anxiety that he might hurt someone he actually cared about.

"Any time, Indoles."

Indoles shook his head so hard he needed to adjust his mask. "Y-yeah, sorry. Just slipped a little, da.. Doctor." He fumbled with the needle into the center hole of the plug until it clicked. Cress groaned a little and winced but finally his breathing normalized, and so too then did Indoles' anxious hyperventilating.

Cress's eyes rolled into his head and the screens blinked to life. Each was a nearly incomprehensibly complicated three-dimensional mathematical representation of some aspect of the surgical theater. Cress's arms, which were strapped into place at the arms of the chair, went limp, and after a few repressed involuntary spasms he was gone into the digital void.

"Stand back." Cress's voice played from all the speakers in the room as his body remained still as a corpse.

Indoles hopped onto a pneumatic stool and spun around a bit as it rolled to a stop. He marveled as slick glistening strands of black metallic liquid flowed out of holes at the base of the operating table. They made pathways leading up to Lucario's body not unlike the lines of a circuit board. They outlined his entire body, rolling over each other like maggots squirming over a pile of meat, until one brave strand formed a needle-thin point and plunged itself into his neck. One of the screens lit up with live vitals and as more of the black liquid started to puncture his body at precisely choreographed points his body was scanned and digitally represented for all to see on another display. The subject's legs began to swell and bulge like they had been afflicted with some horrible alien infection, then, in a single swift motion, a black razor sharp disk erupted out from the center of each femur through the flesh and bone and fur and his legs rolled away from their ichor-coated stumps.

Not a drop of blood stained the table as the leftover anatomy was then slowly subsumed by the ooze, melted away into a molecular soup and carried away through the strands themselves and off to some unknown storage tank in the mezzanine. Indoles, for the first time in a long while, was feeling the shudder of amazement in his fuzzy little chest "That's incredible, father!"

Lucario's stumps harbored uneven ebony facsimiles of limbs that became more and more pronounced and detailed as the Eevee's amazed eyes continued to take in this incredible feat of medical engineering. From time to time the ooze would shift in a way that allowed Indoles to view the metallic bones that were being microscopically stitched together all throughout his body by a network of glistening black tendrils, threading themselves in and out of the flesh like a horrifying lovecraftian sewing machine.

"Speak of this to no-one," Cress replied like the disembodied voice of God.

\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/

Emilio flopped into his chair, exhausted from the day. He always said he wanted to unwind by surrounding himself with the familiar, but his chair and couch were probably the only things that remained from his old life. The entire den, kitchen, and bedroom had their carpets removed and replaced with shimmering marble tile and his aging television had been replaced with a brand new 8k display that was twice the size. Half of the area was overtaken by an opulent marble and bamboo water fountain, and a pool that Emil had designed and built himself for his lover. All of the amenities in his kitchen were brand new, spurred to replacement by Vaporeon who seemed to just instinctively know when Emil was being a Pokedollar pinching scrooge for the sake of pinching Pokedollars. It seemed like once a week Vaporeon had to strain her vocabulary as she struggled to explain to Emil what very specific thing she wanted changed in the house, but he did his best to make their own castle as comfortable as possible. The spare room had been occupied totally by Emil, who laid out a sturdy linoleum floor and had installed a mess of tool drawers, compact machining lathes, and 3d printing equipment. His workshop was an anarchic disaster most days, but Vaporeon knew that that's just how her mate liked his things arranged, so she left it alone.

Vaporeon stirred from within the pool at the base of the fountain, seeing Emil hard at work on his laptop doing some smart thing or another beyond a haze of incense smoke, and smiled in contentment. A long playlist of meditative wooden flute music gently rocked her into a relaxation as she let her special spot hydrate her body, enjoying her time with her mate in their den.

She rolled over, droplets of water falling over her body and into the pool like a handful of diamonds, and chirped to get Emmi's attention.

"I loooove you," she cooed as her eyes stole his gaze, her pronunciation now crisp and smooth.

Emil yanked his attention away from his tasks, realizing he had been staring at the screen for the better part of two hours while she relaxed alone. He hated doing that, it was something that she scolded him for frequently and that he knew wasn't healthy.

He got up and knelt before her throne, rolling up his sleeves. "I love you too."

He locked lips with her over the white stone edge of the pool as she basked in the water and on her Emmi cradling her head, sending her first-class to romantic Nirvana. She pulled on his hair with a paw, pressing his face harder onto her lips. "Love me tonight, Emmi."

Emilio loved her every moment of every day, but he knew exactly what she meant

"Your wish is my desire," he replied, reaching down into the water and gently caressing her slit with his fingertips. She giggled and bit his other hand playfully and he yipped from the sharp pinch of her teeth. He chuckled as he wiped his arms down with a strategically placed towel hanging from a bar nearby.

"Little more time, Finish up."

Little did she know he more or less was already done. Also, since his dick was harder than a Metapod on Route 1, he was pretty sure there was no possible way he was going to be able to focus at all. He planted a kiss on her lips again and decided to unwind while he watched her submerge herself and massage her slit at him from beneath the crystal clear water.

Mon-Lover's Society – Community Chat

Everyone deserves love and respect!

User: Stonemason

Password:******************

- - - - - - Do not share personal details or account information. Don't ask for them either. - - - - - -

Stonemason: Evening all

Vicktorierode: *Gasp* Hi! Its been a while. Thought you went dark.

BillyBoltund: Good evening to you too, Stonemason.

TapuAsshat: Damn, and I already paid the assassin. Guess he stiffed me after all

Mr_Gyarados: O.o I've been missing you too, welcome back.

Stonemason: Just a lot going on with work. But I did have another thing I wanted to ask all of you.

Vicktorierode: MORE questions? Haha, your last ones were super spicy. My concerns about you disappearing weren't for nothing, buddy.

Mr_Gyarados: They didn't bother me. :3

TapuAsshat: Yeah, that's what scares me. Hehe

BillyBoltund: What's your question?

Stonemason: It's probably dumb question but… Well, I was wondering if its normal for water types or whatever to be constantly sexually active. I guess I thought they went through cycles where they didn't want to or even couldn't. One of the mon I work with is constantly exhibiting mating behavior and its been ages.

Mr_Gyarados: I can tell you all about that. ^_^ Nothing to do with water types, well, unless you're working with the Omanyte line (and you're not, I'd know you if you were, haha), but Eeveelutions are a fast-breeding MF species.

Mr_Gyarados: (THIS MESSAGE HAS BEEN DELETED)

BillyBoltund: I'm gonna stop you right there, Gyarados.

Mr_Gyarados: :( Did I do something wrong?

Stonemason: What the hell?

BillyBoltund: Stonemason, I like to give benefit of a doubt with everyone that they are following the groups guidelines and not using this place as a way to further criminal behavior. I can't ask you for your information and the kinds of questions you've been asking are casting some serious concerns. Also I warned you last week that you were at the line. I was able to overlook it until now but bottom-line I need to consider the well-being of everyone here.

BillyBoltund: I hate doing this because I feel the same way you do about free love, but I can't give third chances. I won't say anything else because I legally can't. We won't do that again around here.

Mr_Gyarados: Billy, its my fault, I answered his questions and didn't warn him when I should have.

Vicktorierode: Can't this be a final warning? There's so few of us, Billy.

Mr_Gyarados: Please don't ban him. :( You can ban me.

BillyBoltund: I'm sorry, Mason. Don't get into any trouble, ok?

Address traffic refused. Your devices may be banned from this service or some other error has occurred, please contact server admin for support.

"What the FUCK!" Emil shouted aloud, slamming his laptop shut and covering his eyes. "No, no, no, no. Gods, how stupid." Emil knocked himself on the head out of frustration, tugging at his hair. He wasn't used to the feeling of raw unfiltered rejection, he'd never even had a sleepover when he was growing up in Paldea and a good chunk of his support network just simply vanished with a keystroke.

Vaporeon slowly re-emerged from the pool, watching with concern. "Emmi?

Abandoned, just like that. It felt awful. Gods, he wanted to scrub his memory of the group. Such procedures existed, of course, but weren't cheap. Fine, if they didn't want to see him, he didn't wanna see them. He couldn't hear his mate over the buzzing, overwhelming emotions in his head like steam in a boiler, and so he opened the laptop again. He typed furiously to delete the website from his browser favorites and his history. Then he went to his email to purge any communication he'd ever had and he felt a slick, cool paw touch his hand, still dripping with jewels of water.

"Emmi. What's wrong?"

He put the laptop down on the cushioned footrest and hid his hands in his face. "Just lost a lot of friends today."

Vaporeon rubbed his arm as she thought. What a strange thing to happen so suddenly. He didn't bite anyone, did he? Biting definitely made people angry. She didn't have any sort of real experience with human drama, even though she was letting one breed her senseless nearly every day. Emmi was a low-maintenance human, after all. But she did have some small wisdoms she read from some websites dedicated to celebrity gossip, and though Machamp was a total simpleton, he was the oldest mon in the group and had lots of good advice to give. Even when she scoffed and rolled her eyes, she did listen

It wasn't incredibly often that she had to dig around in her skull for the right words those days. Emil normally didn't talk a lot to begin with, and when he blew his vocabulary up to talk shop she mostly just smiled and snuggled into his lap as she nodded away. "You're all I neeeed, looove..." she sang, remembering the lyrics to a rock tune Emil had started listening to since she moved into his den.

Emilio sighed and looked up at her. Then she caught him unawares with a little peck on the lips. "Yo-ooo-ooou're my guarenteeee." She didn't have the metal pipes to mimic the artist, but she did her best.

He pulled her into his lap, thankful that he was going to dress down for bed soon anyway as her damp body soaked his lap. He kissed her and wiped the tears from his eyes. "As the tall grass burns and the cities drown," he continued the song, also utterly unable to growl it out properly.

"-and there's no one else arooooooound."

"Let this whole damn thing come crashing down,

"long as you're here with meeeeeee…"

Their lips met again and she smiled, looking into his eyes. Thank goodness he knew the rest of the song because that was all she could conjure up.

BING.

They both shifted their eyes to the laptop.

BING. BING. BING.

Emil pushed open the screen and was stunned to see messages from the members of the group. Well, everyone but Billy. Tapu was a dickhead so it made sense he wasn't sending messages. First among them was Mr. Gyarados, who left his phone number in case he needed support, and the others seeming to make sure that-

"Eonnn, Eonnn," she said with an air of judicial finality, closing the machine with a swift smack of an azure paw. Vaporeon's tail crept up the entirety of one leg and slowly, sensually, slithered around him as she wiggled her hind quarters and walked towards the bedroom. Purring seductively as she cast him a wanting gaze.

"Looooove me, Emmi."

How could this creature possibly have so much power over him? Not her unmistakably dangerous body, he understood that topic better than anyone else alive. No, he just wondered how it was that she could oh so gently hold his aching heart in her paws and make it all just melt away. In the end, if that's all it took to make the world OK, then she really was all he ever needed to begin with. He snagged her up from the floor and she squeaked in delight as he bit down on her neck in his arms. All he wanted now was to kiss her from the inside, over and over again, from the cover of darkness, all night, until once again they had to feign morality the next morning.

"Amor ciega, Vida mi," he whispered into her ear as the bedroom door closed behind him.

\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/-\|/

"Goooood morning, champ!" The Rehabilitation Officer bellowed into the tiny paper-walled office for all in the building to hear, proudly displaying the sweat stains he worked up at the armpits on his break-time workout in the facility gym by leaning against the doorway like a Slackoth. His eyes were perpetually wide open, like a man who'd just been kicked in the gut, and his hair was so slicked back and hardened with hair gel it could probably chisel stone.

William winced at the sudden and very unwanted attention he was drowning in. Especially today, he thought. His legs danced under the table from anxiety and a growing need to go to the bathroom thirty-minutes before he was approved to leave his desk. One leg sported a russet colored tracking device the shape of a pack of cigarettes, strapped there with a polymer-wrapped steel strip. His face was overgrown with uneven patches of facial shadow, his skull was a textbook case male-pattern baldness, and his tired baggy eyes betrayed the insomnia he battled every night. Sat propped up on his desk was a picture frame cradling an aging photo of a younger him in the park on a clear autumn day. He laid on a blanket with a beautifully groomed Boltund sleeping in his lap, peppered with sunny colored maple leaves.

"Morning, Officer Cliffe," he mumbled, face still fixed on to his chat windows, logged in from two different accounts on the same site.

He hoped that today's asshole-in-chief decided to be the predator who lost interest if you didn't look it too long in the eyes.

"Heard you're ditching that old Mark-One tracker today."

Guess not.

William's head sagged a little and his shoulders slacked. "Yep. Got some years cut off for good work."

"Been eight years just sitting at this desk in kindergarten-traitor cubby-hole hell, I wonder what it must feel like."

He knew these assholes liked to try and poke at the ones about to leave to see if they can get them to do something, ANYTHING, that would make their day remotely entertaining. And, of course, extend peoples' stays. He grunted and considered if there was anything he could say that would satisfy Cliffe's need to see another human groveling. "Unpleasant."

"I guess that's the point, right? Be kinda silly if it wasn't. After all, you definitely should be rotting away in a run-down rural jail somewhere. Yeah, this must be fucking awful. Sometimes the air conditioning breaks, oh the humanity."

And no matter how long you put up with abuse.

"Fucking animals, man. Must be like a heroine mainline for it to be worth a decade working for free in an empty shoe-box like an immigrant Giftmas Elf."

There's always a line.

"Hey, I'm talking to you, Pokeballz. What, you so gone you can't even stand to look at a human face? I ain't no fucking Yamper but I shaved this morning at least, dammit."

When you simply aren't able to put up with it any longer.

"Yeah, look me in the eyes. I'm sure there's a soul in there somewhere, but man those eyes look empty to me. Aw, now don't go getting your pawsies in a bunch, pilgrim. It's all just poking a bit of fun at our everyones' circumstances eh? Just this morning I slipped on the ice outside and landed straight on my ass on camera, don't see me getting in a huff with everyone."

When your domestic instincts all come crashing down.

"What're you gonna do now? Not Pokemon training, that's what. Where the hell're you gonna live, dude? You can't be within 10 meters of an unsupervised Pokemon. Even the farms out yonder don't want the chance you might try milking the bulls. Got a strong hand there you're clenching, bet you'd be great at it."

When all at once the hundreds of the tired springs in your head decide to-

SNAP!

For the first time in eight long years, the uncomfortable itch at his ankle was gone. His attention wandered from his nose to nose stance with Cliffe and gazed down. The device blinked green from an old led, having finally released its grip on his leg and had fallen to the floor like a snare that had finally come free. The uncomfortable, incomprehensible coincidence of it all left them both speechless for a full minute before Will finally was able to breathe his first air as a free man once more.

He grabbed the picture frame and held it to his chest as he walked beyond the guard and practically ran for the exit. "Good day, Officer."