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Starr had thought that she'd be able to tear through those shields with a rapid flurry of flaming claws, but--dammit. It was the same kind of shield that Lugia had used. Weak attacks would bounce right off. God dammit. And before she could do anything else, Brisa had yelled out that she'd...

Dave was opting to... head out while looking half-dead. Alright then. Not like she could judge, what with how many times she'd done the same thing. She'd have the place to herself, which was fine. Ideal. There was silence, after Dave left. Starr didn't much like silence. She let herself...

"...Right. Never mind." It made sense that he wouldn't want to talk about tiring political shit. She wouldn't want to talk about that either. Also, he looked about ready to collapse. "Look, if you wanna go back to sleep, don't let me stop you. I'll be fine waiting for Brisa on my own,"...

No tricks, no games, just one bigass lightning crash that smashed Astrid into the dirt. God dammit why hadn't she done that, that thing--where she went all weird and Radiant and nothing could touch her for a while. (Because she'd been putting up defenses for the team, obviously.) Astrid was...

Oh. He had other kids. Yeah, of course he'd want to go back. She should've figured. The idea of meeting his kids as an Incineroar sure was a mental image. It vaguely made her imagine him returning home to his kids as a Mightyena. "She's got good taste--half my team's Fire-type," Starr...

Starr really wasn't too sure how she'd let Brisa talk her into spending almost as much time in the colosseum as she did, but one match every once in a while had turned into this, and the weirdest part was that she didn't even mind. They just lived here now, apparently. Brisa must've felt like...

Starr nodded distantly, but her mind was elsewhere. A pitch-dark night lit by raging flames. Gunshots. Kids running and screaming. Scouring the stadium in a singeminded daze, not knowing if she'd find her best friend dead or if she'd have to kill her herself. On Cibus, you could get people...

A chill fell over Starr. She stared at him, mouth dry. The acting weird about guns. The being obsessed with kids being in danger, and parents not knowing where they were at. God dammit he had a dead kid shit fuck. “...That fucking sucks,” she said finally, avoiding his eye.

Starr was silent for a long time. Dave didn't reply. She was okay with that. "Probably sounds like my world's a shithole the way I'm describing all this," Starr finally said, breaking the silence. "Most people have a pretty good time on their journeys. We're just special I guess," she added...

Starr looked up, eyeing him carefully. It didn't... seem like he was just bullshitting. He still didn't fucking understand anything (saying it's not your fault, like you didn't actually choose to do anything), but... something about it felt good to hear. "...Thanks," she muttered finally...

Starr threw her arms in the air. "Maybe! Not like I'd know when I was the one hunting them down at the time," she growled, averting her eyes. Goddamn it. She didn't want to get heated. She didn't have the energy for it. Not now. But just... fuck. She took a deep breath, keeping her claws...

Starr put a paw to her her forehead. "I'm not saying it's like across the street or anything, I just mean nothing would seem weird if you got an email saying your kid was in downtown whatever." Maybe Celadon was a bad example, everyone knew the west side of town was seedy. Saffron? That base...

Starr tilted her head. "Huh. Yeah, we've got rangers and League managers and such running things too. Keeping idiots out of the deepwilds and crap. Though I think GPS stuff can only be grabbed in emergencies? Privacy and all that." Not that Team Rocket gave a shit about privacy. She'd...

Starr let out a snort. "Yeah, no, most kids aren't exactly running around getting into fights with Rockets on their journey. Just the usual sanitized League circuit--following the routes, sleeping in Pokecenters, calling home every weekend begging to dump half their allowance on dumb shit...

Starr shrugged. "Something like that. The annoying part is that their track record is pretty decent. Both of 'em gave me hell when I was running things." And whose fault was that? Fucking Sebastian. She let out a sigh, finishing off the rest of her drink. At least someone agreed that it...

Starr's brow furrowed, like she was trying to find some way to protest but couldn't figure out how. He kept talking like it was all Giovanni, like she hadn't actually done any of it. Like none of it was her choice. He didn't get it at all. But... whatever, she wasn't in the mood to argue...

Starr's fur bristled, and she turned away with a scoff. "Yeah, I guess you're old enough that even when I hit seventeen, I might as well have been just a kid, right?" How many times had she heard that one back when she was an executive? No one ever seemed to give a shit that you were a...

Starr blinked at him. 'Make'? Part of her wanted to snap that they hadn't made her do anything when all the worst of it came after she'd reached executive, once she'd become the one giving the orders. Part of her wanted to tell him 'None of your damn business,' but the other half was...

Starr exhaled slowly through her nose. "Most recruits weren't that young, no." "It wasn't unheard of, though," she went on. "Failed trainers, runaways, kids with shitty home lives looking to make a quick buck, that sort of thing." After all, that was only the reason why the rebel kids were...

Starr let out a sigh. Alright, Sword was down for real this time. And the Substitute hadn't even broken. Well, they'd won. She could let herself feel good about that. Starr turned around and walked over to where Brisa had fallen. She kneeled down and pushed gently on Brisa's shoulder...