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Giovanni tapped his chin, like he was considering answering that, or perhaps, more likely, what he would ask for in return. "I did say only the first piece of information would be free," he said. "Why don't you tell me about yourself next? For example... the reason you seem to be so interested...

There was that glint in his eyes again, and Giovanni took a step back with his arms behind him. His tail flicked to the left. "One of them," said Giovanni, "is not who they say they are. One of your precious allies... has been dead for quite a while. To die so easily... they were weak. But at...

"We, um, didn't want to get too close to do those tests. Or cut him open. We tried to get Cream to take a look at his insides with her see-through vision, but she said she couldn't really tell what was going on with it. Like it was obscured. Then I asked Owen to take a look and he said the same...

"Don't trust the cameras," Giovanni repeated. "In other words, you don't know who at least one spy is. I know which one wiped that footage, of course." He shrugged, then smirked, whether or not Starr was looking. It was audible in his voice. Cocky, confident, something between the two. He had no...

The Mewtwo watched her, looking half-curious. Just enough that, when the book was passed into the slot on the far end of the cell, exchanged securely with the other, that he paused to study the Incineroar instead for a good few seconds. But then, with a few clicks and clunks, the book fell into...

"Well, um." Chip buzzed nervously. "If you go in there, you'll be subject to the same seals. A-and you also won't be able to escape if that thing becomes active. Is that something you want to risk? M-maybe we can get Maple, or something, or..." All the while, Blacklight Mewtwo made no...

Tap tap tap. The Mewtwo was at the edge of his holding cell--which was a set of metal bars that glowed dimly with that same Protect insulation as before--in addition to a clear, energized wall of something of the same kind of energy. Giovanni had no hope of escaping unless those went down, and...

"Oh, Nate! Hey!" Chip bobbed his way to them and waved one of his appendages their way. "I'm not allowed to do anything with that guy, but he's in one of the far rooms in a sealing chamber. Not really sure what you can do with the guy right now, but he's totally unresponsive to just about...

Owen smiled a little more, then turned to face the doll once Brisa was on her way out. He rubbed his cheek, sniffing a little more until his tears evaporated into a hot mist in the cool air. A wave of embarrassment hit him just then and his wings drooped. If there was anybody who would...

That one hurt. Owen wasn't sure why it hurt. But it was something that he felt he should have known for a long time. "I feel like dwelling on that," he said, "will just make me bitter. I need to... go forward anyway, and maybe... I'll be able to handle it better later." He sighed, easing his...

"It's not, but it calms me down, um, forcefully. I need it, if... things get bad." Potluck looked down. "It's from how I was created. It didn't go right. So, um... that's used to keep me calm. But I rarely need it!" His fishtail tried to wag. "...But... all this spy stuff, you know..."

The Charizard nodded without a word. His flame hummed with the occasional crackle, a clear sign that while he was shaken by one thing or another, he was breathing and he was calming down. It was manageable. Owen wondered what Jesse would have said about him, had he learned anything of this. If...

Owen's body was built like it had been designed meticulously by the cold had of nature, and then further augmented by some hand of madness for some other purpose. Mutant indeed--he was not something geared for nature, but the supernatural. His flesh was strained but it was healing; his bones...

Owen seemed attentive, but his eyes occasionally darted around to seemingly random parts of the forest. A gust of wind had made some of the leaves move in an odd way. Occasionally Owen's pupils seemed to trace along the fur on Brisa's head rather than her eyes proper. "I'm..." Owen shook his...

"N-no, I--I'm in control of that now," Owen said. "Sorry, I'm sorry, I know that--ugh." He rubbed his forehead, stretching so he could get back onto a standing position. "I was... I was just letting off some steam," he admitted, kicking the doll until it was out of sight so Brisa didn't have to...

Chapter 9 ~ The Voice of Blacklight Giovanni was soundly defeated by Team Spectrum, but that wasn't the surprise of the night. When the Radiant Machine was destroyed, Diyem emerged from inside, and after countless motivational words from the team and the efforts to weaken the prison that held...

Feral snarls and snorts answered Brisa as a creature that went on all fours stared back at her. Fiery jaws were latched onto a large Substitute doll which had been shredded and burned in so many places, ethereal mist bleeding away at its form. His pupils dilated at Brisa and he spread his wings...

Potluck winced a little at that, but sighed and plucked open the bag by one of the straps and pulled out the singular object that took up most of its space. It looked like some kind of heavy, stone, mechanized helmet that looked just a little too small for Potluck's head and crest. If Potluck...

Off to the far side of the park there was a small, secluded but dense forested area that Pokemon sometimes went to explore in private. Usually pairs, or sometimes alone for a nice walk. In Owen's case, he'd gone there for something a little more natural than the training rooms, which always made...

"Er, um." The crest on his head seemed to fan down slightly and he looked away. "It's... just something I need to carry around for a little while, just in case, that's all .I, um, I-I've gotten stressed more easily lately, so... Just in case I get too stressed, I just have to put it on. That's...