Dorm Hall - 1st Floor

[Shiny Phantump]

Gladion and Hazel looked inside some of the rooms to see which ones Hazel might like. The answer, as it appeared, was "all of them." Adaptable to any environment, indeed...

In the end, they settled for the familiar comfort of a conventional hotel room. Hazel greatly appreciated the large amount of space, and paced laps around the room simply because she had room to for a few minutes before getting bored. She had already been cleaned up, but fortunately for Gladion's presentability, he hadn't gotten ready for the end of the day himself prior to departure. He turned off the bathroom lights, showered, and emerged in pyjamas with hair that invoked images of a soaked altaria. He aggressively dried it before turning to bed.

Here, both Gladion and Hazel fit on the bed with considerable ease. Hazel draped a foretalon protectively over him for her own comfort as much as his, and sleep followed not long after. It had been, in both the metaphorical and jetlaggedly-literal sense, a very long day.

 

[Poivron]

A somewhat dazed Finley followed his jellicent down the long, long hall. Bouba checked each unoccupied dorm they passed, opening the door with deft tentacled motions, and inevitably burbling his displeasure when the room beyond proved unsatisfactory. They'd gone past dozens of dorms. Finley had lost count.

He couldn't care less at this point. He was trying to forget everything he'd seen in the past twenty-four hours, so he could pretend this was a normal vacation and not some bizarre scheme hatched by one of those billionaire lunatics his family always cautioned him against. And he was failing. The sheer derangement of the boat incident resisted all attempts to excise it from his memory: those dreadful screams and explosions! Pokemon battles without a referee, or any agreed-upon match rules at all, and trainers leaping into the fray to fight alongside their pokemon as if all the civilized rules of trainer battles had been wiped away in an instant! And other things he hoped were stress-induced hallucinations: some hideous demon that resembled a human but certainly wasn't one, and a horrifically oversized noivern the size of a house and Pokemon who spoke and worst of all, talk of alternate dimensions. He'd heard of alternate dimensions. Aliens came from alternate dimensions and they ate your face off. Wouldn't it be nice if he'd been hallucinating all along?

But to his utmost dismay, he could still discern reality from fiction. He really was here. Trapped on this lunatic island.

If Finley had known what he was signing up for, he would have declined the invite. Oh, the food was good, but he could order delivery anytime from the safety and comfort of his own home. And was a so-called vacation worth dealing with all these strangers, most of whom would definitely end up hating him? Why was he here again?

Then Bouba gave a gurgle of delight and plunged, with uncharacteristic speed, into a nearby dorm.

Finley poked his head in, and revised his entire opinion of the festival in the span of a second.

Now, his real home was stuffed to the gills with jellicent paraphnelia, and a home stuffed with jellicent paraphnelia was superior to any home without it. But the immaculately blue decor. The perfect feng shui of the furniture! It would bring a man to tears. It would bring him to tears, if he wasn't suppressing them. There were flawlessly fluffed blue throw pillows and blue velvet sofas and blue dome-shaped lights (which were slightly jellicent-shaped if you squinted). There was a wonderful blue-and-white bed with oceanic patterns on the blankets. As someone who had to do hours of cleaning whenever he had guests, which was not often, he could appreciate the painstaking effort it must have taken to arrange everything perfectly.

He peered into the adjoining room and saw Bouba luxuriating in a deep and enormous pool, complete with wave simulators and the sharp tang of salt. Despite the dim lighting, he could spy kelp and floatsam glimmering in the waters. Bouba waved a tentacle and produced a lengthy gurgle. This was, Finley decided, the I am very happy with my life and you should be too gurgle.

"Definitely worth it," he mumbled to himself.

 

[Panoramic_Vacuum]

Dinner had ended almost as abruptly as it began. Steven thought he'd been a decent enough conversationalist, but at his mention of Prim's partner, a look of alarm crossed her face and she immediately excused herself from the table muttering something under her breath. Then, when Steven turned his attention to the mystery pokemon who apparently was not Prim's, they were gone as well, the only glimpse of their retreat was a fluffy tail slipping into the dinner crowd.

Despite not being in the mood for company prior to sitting down, Steven was a little disappointed to see his impromptu table-mates go.

That left Steven alone with Aggron again just in time for their host's welcome speech. Thankfully it was on the brief side; Steven definitely didn't have it in him to sit through an hour of pomp and circumstance. After the introductions, he hadn't felt like pretending to eat anymore, so with one last trip to the buffet for some treats for Aggron (and maybe a midnight snack for himself), Steven and Aggron left the still-bustling hall and headed for the dorms.

The pair turned down the hallway to the first floor rooms. Steven wouldn't have minded the view from upstairs, but he was very certain any downstairs neighbors would mind Aggron's heavy footfalls above their heads.

They selected a room near the start of the hallway, one with a noticeably larger door to allow Aggron to fit into the room without squeezing through.

Inside, the room was tastefully decorated with slate floors and marble surrounds. Woven tapestries depicting misty mountainscapes hung on the walls, and several plush carpets covered the open areas to deaden the echo of all the hard surfaces, plus provide a comfortable place to curl up if Aggron were so inclined (which, in fact, he was.)

At the back of the room a pair of double doors looked out onto a patio beyond, but the sun had long since set and Steven was far too tired to explore much further than the king sized bed that sat centered on the far wall.

He was so tired he didn't even want to question how his suitcase was already waiting for him when they'd only just selected this room.

Steven shrugged off his jacket and hung it up in the tall wardrobe near the bed. Next to it went his waistcoat. Cravat loosened and slipped from his collar and draped over the nearby chair. The rest followed in a more haphazard fashion, and he collapsed face down in the bed, sinking gratefully into the heavenly sheets.

Aggron rumbled a quiet goodnight from where he hunkered down next to the foot of the bed, but Steven was already fast asleep.

 

[Phoenixsong]

The pool was quiet. Not silent—Gyarados could hear the gentle whirring of some kind of motor somewhere, from whatever was refreshing the water—but not as noisy as the big boat he had followed to get here (which at least meant there was no chance he'd get lost). Not as noisy as it had been on top of the boat, either.

The top of Gyarados's head broke the water's surface, slowly so as not to make a disruptive splash. He hadn't been inside many kinds of rooms meant for humans, certainly not since he'd evolved, but this one was pretty spacious, as those went. Big enough that the pool, which had a relatively small opening but seemed to run all the way underneath the floor to quite some depth, was nearly wide enough for him to stretch out in. Not that that was a terribly comfortable way to rest, but he could, technically. He wondered why more human rooms didn't have big pools underneath them. It must have been inconvenient to make space for a pokémon like him.

Gentle snoring noises came from the bed against the wall. It was a very big bed, but from what Gyarados could see while peeking out of the water Blue was curled up all small in just one corner. He had looked very tired when he'd showed Gyarados the pool, double-checked that he didn't want to stay outside in the ocean, and thanked him one more time for helping out on the boat. Gyarados still didn't really understand what had happened, but it would have been rude to ask when the little human really needed to sleep, so he didn't.

It was probably rude to ask Charizard, too, because he was also asleep judging by the dim, gently-flickering light coming from atop the big false-stone overhang off to one side, but Gyarados needed to know. So he reared up—again, slow and smooth, no loud splashes—and nudged his head forward, just a bit, so one of his damp barbels brushed against Charizard's nose.

The fire-type's eyes snapped open, briefly startled, but he relaxed when he saw whose big face was currently filling his view. A curl of flame snaked around his snout briefly, quickly drying up the wet spot. "What is it?"

"I'm sorry to wake you up, but I'm still confused," Gyarados said, his hissing barely above a whisper. "What happened on the boat?"

"Mmmph." Charizard grunted. "Some other humans started fighting. With weapons, and... weird stuff, I don't really know. The big one he asked you to restrain started it, I think."

Gyarados craned his long neck back in the direction of the bed, whiskers twitching with concern. "Is he—"

"He's not hurt. Upset, yes, because other humans were saying strange things about twos of people and him being Tank's human instead of ours. That part was confusing, and I'm going to be annoyed if they start it again." Charizard hissed, and little embers sparked behind his teeth. "But he's fine. I was there. I didn't let the fighters near him."

"Oh. Good." The sea serpent dipped a little lower in the water, relieved, although his barbels were still twitching. "I should have been there, too."

"You said you didn't want to be on the boat."

"But I should have been there. I could have been. Or at least I could have gotten there sooner."

"'Gotten there'?" Charizard almost laughed as he pictured the big boat. "How? The deck we were on was taller than you. Taller than two of you, maybe." He rolled his eyes a little when he said "two of you". "Even you can't jump that high."

At that, Gyarados looked away and went quiet for a bit.

Sometimes Gyarados got like that when someone talked about jumping, or sometimes other things; he wouldn't say why. Whatever the reason, Charizard wished he had a better idea of how to stop his friend from sulking. The big fish didn't have a tail flame, so they couldn't share fire. He thought about resting his head on top of Gyarados's, but he didn't know if that would actually be comforting for a gyarados like it was for a human (and also, admittedly, Charizard wasn't too keen on touching someone so wet; another tongue of flame licked involuntarily around his snout at the thought).

Words would have to do for now. He thought for a moment, and settled on clarification. "It was just a really big boat, I mean. Way bigger than it needed to be. I don't think anything could jump that high out of the water, unless it could also fly. And anyway," he added, "what he needed you to do was scare them, to make them stop right away and think really hard before fighting again now that you were there. So, actually, it was perfect the way it happened, because you still got to spend most of your time in the water and everyone else was really surprised to see you. Couldn't have gone better."

The serpent was silent for a little while longer. "Mm. Okay. Thank you. I'm glad you were there for him," he said at last. Then Gyarados slipped back down into the depths of the pool.

Charizard watched his friend sink for a bit, until eventually the water-type swam out of sight under the room's main floor. He knew that final low hiss indicated genuine gratitude, but there was still that telltale twitch in Gyarados's whiskers before he'd disappeared.

The dragon sighed, casting one last glance at the water, then another at the little figure huddled under the blankets. So much trouble for them, he thought as he closed his eyes and tried to return to sleep. He wasn't sure he liked this vacation much at all.

 

[Panoramic_Vacuum]

Dinner that night was a subdued affair. At least compared to the first night when everyone had piled into the main hall right from the boat. There were only a few groups of trainers around when Steven and Aggron sat down with their food. (Weirdly, some of them were still talking about breakfast...)

But as they ate, no one came to join their table, and once Aggron had his fill of the roasted figy berries he'd sniffed out from the beach, the pair made their way back to their room.

----

The door to the dorm room closed behind Steven with a soft click. It was still early, and he was nowhere near as tired as he was the previous night. As Aggron tromped into the room, Steven moved to the wardrobe and hung up his jacket. He wasn't ready for bed yet, though, and instead opted to recline in one of the leather armchairs facing the patio doors and kick off his shoes.

His gaze slid over to where Aggron was peering out through the glass doors into the nighttime landscape. Steven grinned as he saw an opportunity.


"What, can't wait for that hike tomorrow?"


Aggron's head snapped toward him with a grumpy snort, and Steven couldn't hold in his laughter.

"I'm only teasing," he said, still hiding his laugh behind his hand. "I did want to check out those tunnels we saw today, and the company will be nice."

Aggron rumbled a reply and Steven shot him a look. "No, it's not only because I want to see more of that shiny Nosepass. Though, he was rather striking..."


Steven laughed again as he saw Aggron winding up for another grumpy response. "Alright alright, I'll stop. Hayes seems like an interesting fellow, and it's not often I run into someone like him. And don't worry, I won't fawn over Nosepass too much." Steven paused, grin growing again behind his hand. "It's not every day that you get to see a shiny pokemon, though..."


Aggron's tail thumped against the ground and he turned back to the patio window with a huff.

Steven laughed harder and had a feeling Aggron might never speak with him again for the rest of the trip if he didn't knock it off.

"I'm sorry, Aggron," he said. "I'll stop this time. Though, it is unusual that we've already seen two shiny pokemon since we've been here. First that Sylveon on the boat, and now Nosepass. Rather favorable odds for how rare those kinds of pokemon are."


"Then again, there are trainers here from more than one universe. Things are already unusual enough. Like a talking Oshawott who used to be a human!"


"...And whatever that shadow doppleganger from the boat was." He shuddered slightly at the memory, and a low growl started in Aggron's throat. "I don't know what that creature was, but I'm sure it wasn't human. It certainly didn't seem like any pokemon I've ever seen, either."

A little part of his mind tried to remember everything Phoebe had told him about exorcisms...


"Anyway, we haven't seen them since the boat, and that might not be a bad thing. Hopefully they won't be interested in any of the tunnels we'll be exploring, either."

Aggron rumbled his agreement, only because he really had no interest in battling evil spirits or whatever that thing was. The battle he cared about at present was the one with Blue's Charizard. Speaking of, it seemed Steven was on the same page, rambling about TMs and strategies and... Aggron yawned and slowly opened the patio door with his claw.

"Ah, I'm sorry, was I rambling again?" Steven looked up from his musings at the sound, only to spot Aggron standing by the patio doors, one claw resting on the handle, throwing a concerned look over his shoulder back at him.

"I'll be fine," said Steven with a smile. "I won't stay up too late."

When Aggron still hesitated, Steven waved him off with fake annoyance. "I know how much you like sleeping in the garden at home. And I promise, I'll go to bed shortly."

Aggron rumbled a vaguely skeptical reply, but decided he'd rather enjoy his own vacation and play the 'I told you so' card tomorrow. He turned and shuffled out into the garden, determined to find the perfect spot to curl up.

Steven's smile softened. He didn't miss the way Aggron left the patio doors slightly ajar, allowing him to keep tabs on Steven even from outside. It was always tough love with his partner, and he still couldn't get over just how protective the big steel type was. Steven shook his head. He wasn't entirely sure what he did to deserve the loyalty of such an amazing pokemon, but he certainly wasn't going to question it, nor would he trade it for the world.

Suddenly, he yawned. The excitement of the day was finally catching up to him. And maybe a little of the timezone lag was still there, too.

"Looks like I'm actually going to keep my promise tonight," Steven said to the empty room. He was sure Aggron heard him through the open door, though.

He stood from the chair and made his way over to the bed, giving one last fond look out into the nighttime garden, th light from the room glinting off his partner's steel plates.

Steven smiled. "Goodnight, Aggron. See you in the morning."

 

[Shiny Phantump]

Gladion laid stretched out on the bed. “Talked to our host today,” he said. He’d considered using sign while Hazel was learning it, but in practice her limited vision made it hard for her to interpret them when she wasn’t looking directly at him, so he stuck with verbal speech. “Seems like you’re safe here. That’s a relief, isn’t it? Sorry if today as boring, but tomorrow will be a more exciting day for you.”

[I was meeting someone today, while you were out.]

It was still surreal that Hazel could speak back now. Sure, it was slow and clunky to have her sign out each phoneme, but was still vastly more than they’d had yesterday.

“What? What did you do?”

[Wanted to be visiting Malachai. Instead I learned Laura is having a second partner here. Her name is Bitch.] Hazel used the whole-word sign Sleet had taught her for the curse instead of signing it out phonetically. [It is pronounced Sleet. But it is polite to be greeting her with the sign.]

Gladion nodded. “Ah, alright. How was Sleet?.”

[Very…] Hazel paused co consider her next word. […interesting. But I like her. She is fun. I am glad to have friends.]

“Me too.” Gladion laughed. “I’ve been doing nothing but worrying since we got here, but it’s turned out to be a pretty good thing so far.”

[It is being very good,] Hazel agreed.

 

[Flyg0n]

At some point during the night, a note is slipped under the door...

And lo, behold when Solgaleo carries the sun to its highest place
Then take shelter behind the Dauntless Shield
And take care to keep this secret
Breathe not a word, no not to a soul​

What a strange note! Is it nonsense? Or could it be a code of some kind...?

 

[HelloYellow17]

The first floor was quiet, all things considered. Hard to believe that nobody had attempted to break in to this kid’s room yet for some answers—but then again, maybe picking a lock wasn’t part of an average trainer’s skillset.

“Novo, see if you can pick up a trail of a Scizor or Hypno,” Wes murmured. “Neo, keep an eye out.”

Novo put his nose to the carpet while Neo chirped an affirmative and hung back several paces, eyes narrowed and ears swiveling in all directions.

It had already been more than a day since the kid’s disappearance, So Wes wasn’t even sure how successful they’d be at finding his room. Thankfully, though, Novo’s keen sense of smell led them right outside a particular door that was painted green. The Umbreon sat back on his haunches and trilled proudly. Wes grinned and rubbed Novo’s head. “Awesome, bud. I’ll take it from here.”

Novo nodded and trotted to the end of the hallway where he took up position, ears pricked for any sign of company. Neo remained stationed at the opposite end.

Wes eyed the doorknob. Nothing special, a single pin pick would do the trick just fine. For such a fancy establishment, he’d expected a much bigger challenge, but he wasn’t about to complain. He slipped his pick of choice from under his jacket and set to work.

He didn’t manage to get too far before he heard a sharp bark from Novo that made him jump.

@Negrek

 

[Shiny Phantump]

On the way back to their room, Hazel stiffened and froze.

[Something is wrong with the air.]

Gladion put an arm over her back. “The cleaning staff probably just came through. I doubt it’s anything more than some bleach.”

[No. Not bleach.] Hazel grumbled and stepped away. Slowly, cautiously, she made her way towards one particular room- The Scisor trainer’s. [It is coming from here.]

She tried the door. It was unlocked, strangely. [Someone has been disturbing it.]

“Isn’t this the Scisor trainer’s room? I guess that’d be why someone was poking around.”

Hazel stomped one of her back feet. [The air is all wrong and it was coming from this room. Are you not smelling it? They should not have been opening the door.]

Gladion sighed. “I can’t smell like you can. You should close the door if you don’t like it.”

Hazel did no such thing. [Why is it wrong?]

“I don’t know. I can’t even smell it.”

[You can be seeing more, though. Promise me you will be helping me look in the room.]

“Alright. I promise. I won’t rest until I’ve inspected every suspicious looking nook and cranny.” Even if he didn’t find anything, if it would make Hazel feel better, it would be worth the time regardless.

Gladion is using Foresight in Franklin’s room!

 

[Panoramic_Vacuum]

Steven glanced over his shoulder as the barkeep closed up the Sap Sipper, locking the door for the early night. It was as Odette said, there was probably some kind of curfew in place as a safety precaution given what had happened that day.

The mood was glum as he and Aggron filtered into the main hall as their host requested. Mr. Montorzi’s short address didn’t help, and the news that they were no closer to finding Reena left him with even less appetite than he had prior. He skipped dinner entirely, opting to sit in silence as Aggron grabbed something for himself.

When Aggron was done, they left the hall and headed for the dorms. As they stepped inside, Steven paused in the threshold and looked down. His shoes were ruined. Formerly waterlogged, they were caked in mud and dust and grime that surely would never come out. His pant legs fared no better, splashed with the dried remnants of marsh water. He was an utter mess, and had been all day.

Without a word, he tossed his jacket haphazardly on the closest countertop, and headed straight for the bathroom.

An excessive amount of hot water later, Steven emerged from the bathroom, clean but no less of a mess. He sat down heavily on the edge of the bed and let his head fall into his hands.

“It doesn’t make any sense,” he said to the floor. “Why Reena? Why either of those other two trainers?”

Aggron perked up from his spot on the area rug, raising his head to listen. (He was sleeping inside for the remainder of the trip. There was no way in hell he was letting Steven out of his sight now.)

“I can’t make heads or tails of anything. There has to be something we’re missing, but what?”

The frustration in his voice grew and his fingers dug deeper into his scalp.

“There’s always a reason,” he muttered. “Always.”

Aggron rumbled a quiet noise of concern, and Steven sighed, finally sitting upright and meeting his partner’s stare with tired eyes.
“No, you’re right. Stressing over it tonight won’t help. I’ll get some rest, and we can pick it back up in the morning.”

Satisfied, Aggron nodded and settled back down in his place at the foot of the bed. He kept one eye open until he was sure his trainer laid down under the covers and turned out the light.

-----

Steven woke with a start, sending a few papers fluttering to the floor. He leaned down in his chair and gathered them up, placing them back on his desk in a neat stack. It was odd, though. He was in his office at the League, back in Ever Grande. Wasn’t he supposed to be somewhere else right now? Well, no matter. He must have dozed off while doing paperwork, not that this would have been the first time he’d done something like that.

But something was different. There was too much paperwork, way more than he’d ever seen. Boxes upon boxes were stacked in the room; on the floor, on chairs, on his desk. Mountains of boxes, all full of files.

Curiously, he peered into the nearest one and scanned the contents. He leafed through the folder tabs, trying to read the words, but every time his brain tried to focus, the letters slipped through his mind, blurry, unreadable. Frustrated, he pulled a file at random, and as he lifted it from the box his heart skipped a beat.

The word “MISSING” was stamped across the folder in bold red letters.

He dropped the folder on his desk as if it had burned him, the block letters glaring up at him accusingly. He quickly grabbed another folder from the box, convinced the first was just a fluke, but this one was marked the same as well. Three more folders came flying out, “MISSING,” “MISSING,” “MISSING.”

Steven’s chair scraped loudly against the floor as he pushed back from the desk, eyes wide in shock. What was this? Why were these here? Had he requested these files for some reason? Why would he do something like that?

He glanced around the room at the towers of boxes. They leered back at him, accusing. How could you leave us unopened like this? Leave our contents unread? You’re no different than all the rest.

Shakily, Steven slid his chair back up to his desk and picked up one of the folders. Again, he tried to read the words on the folder tab, (it looked like there were two, separated by a comma) and again the words smudged into an unintelligible mess right before his eyes.

He slipped a finger beneath the folder cover and paused, drawing in an uneven breath. There was an eerie air of familiarity to it. Like he almost knew what he was going to find inside. Slowly, he flipped the cover open, and his heart jumped into his throat.

It was a missing persons report. A little girl, age ten, from Alola. The report was recent, she’d only been gone 24 hours. A relative had reported her missing. There was a statement from her parents when the police came to their door. They claimed there must be some mistake. They didn’t even have a daughter—

Steven slammed the folder shut in horror and disgust.

Then, for some unknown reason, he reached into the pile and pulled out another folder.

The “MISSING” was there like every other folder, but at the top, beneath the still illegible header, were two handwritten words that he could read. Though, it was strange, because he couldn’t read Kalosian. Yet he knew exactly what they said. “Affaire classée.” Cold case.

He cracked open the cover and began to read. Another girl, older, from Kalos this time. It had been months since anyone had seen her, talked to her. Her friends had filed reports time and time again. The authorities ignored them. At this point, they said, she’d probably just run away—

A wave of nausea hit him with such intensity that his head swam.

He should just walk away, go find whoever put these boxes here and demand they remove them. He stood up from his chair in one swift motion. What a sick joke this was. He didn’t need to be reading these, seeing these.

But he stopped, as if drawn to his desk, to the folders, by some unseen power.

He reached down and plucked another one from the desktop.

No different than the others, same “MISSING”, same unreadable header, but when he flipped the file open, it was as if a hand of ice had closed around his heart.

A boy, eight, from Hoenn. Reported by the family housekeeper. Missing for a week. The ransom note was delivered on the third day.

The rest of the file was sparse, almost empty. But as Steven watched, words began to appear, written in slow, lopsided letters. Like they were written by a child.

They began to describe things that no missing persons report could ever have known. The grungy, run down apartment he had been taken to. The dirty mattress he’d been forced to sleep on. The shouts, the threats.

How?

“You better keep your damn mouth shut, kid, or I’ll shut it for you.”

This wasn’t—

The way the boy was such a good listener, he continued to keep his mouth shut for almost a year after they found him. S-i-l-e-c-t-a-v-e. The word was spelled wrong, as if sounded out letter by letter. M-u-t-i-s-m.

It hadn’t—

The way it continued until he met his best friend, Beld—

“Stop!”

With a shout, Steven spun and threw the folder at the wall. It exploded into a thousand shards, like glass.

------

He shot upright in his bed, head pounding, heart racing. It wasn’t real, it wasn’t—

There was a loud snarl and a crash as Aggron jolted awake. His tail thrashed in panic, slamming into one of the chairs and sending it skidding into the nearby wall. His horns glinted in the faint moonlight as he whipped around looking for a sign of the threat.

Steven heaved in another breath and realized he must have woken Aggron up with his shout. He slowly released his death grip on the bedsheets and tried to calm his terrified pokemon.

“Aggron,” he called, but only managed a weak croak. He coughed and tried again. “Aggron, hey.”

Aggron spun to face him on high alert, eyes still frenzied and ready to rend whatever was harming his trainer into tiny little pieces.

“Everything’s fine,” said Steven. “Just a bad dream.”

Aggron paused, taking in the words. Just a dream? But he’d shouted like someone was attacking. And his voice was shaky, like something bad had happened for real. Still tense, Aggron growled nervously. Metagross was always the one to take care of bad dreams…

“It’s okay,” said Steven, more steady this time. His breathing had slowed, but he was in no mood to fall back asleep. So he swung out of bed and padded over to his partner, resting a hand against Aggron’s snout. The steel was cool against his clammy skin. “I’ll be alright.”

Aggron’s rumbled reply was more than a little skeptical.

Steven gave a weak laugh. “Am I that bad of a liar? I think…” He trailed off, glancing back at the tangled mess of sheets that was his bed. “Would you mind if I slept here tonight?”

Aggron looked confused for a moment before he realized what Steven meant. Without another word, he lumbered to the bed and grabbed the extra pillows. He went back to his spot on the area rug and deposited them on the ground. With one claw, he snagged the corner of the comforter and dragged it from the bed as he curled up, tail tucked around to his snout, effectively making a nest of pillows against his side.

He cracked one eye open and stared at Steven. Well? Get in here.

Gingerly, Steven stepped over Aggron’s tail and settled down into the pillows, pulling the comforter over top. “Thank you,” he whispered. Aggron’s low reply vibrated through his body.

It took a while before Steven was ready to close his eyes again, the dream still searingly fresh in his mind. But the rise and fall of his partner’s breathing was a rhythm he could hang on to, something to ground him in reality that he was here and safe and it was all in the past now…

He finally fell asleep just as the sky began to grow light.

 

[Shiny Phantump]

Sleep was sure to be a rare resource on the island that night. Hazel was an exception, sleeping soundly, holding Gladion against her chest protectively.

Gladion, however, was not an exception. He wouldn't get up, that would disturb Hazel and at least one of them deserved to sleep soundly. Instead, he pulled out his phone, newly functioning. Most of the numbers from his own world appeared to be disconnected. The ones that weren't, he assumed were simply assigned to different people, arbitrary strangers of the universe connected only through a 10-digit number. The new ones he had learned functioned, at least.

Conversation With: Hazel (Not that one)

This is Gladion. Phone is hooked up now.
Someone showed Hazel and I a sign language she can use. I can convey messages to/from her.
Hope all is well.

That was the easy one. Really, the contents hardly mattered. It was just a way of making sure she had the contact info if she needed it.

Conversation With: Two Contacts

Hope I'm not waking either of you up. Stuck with precautions on the mind.
Hazel's ball doesn't have a safety release. I'd destroy and replace it but there's no getting her microchip replaced.
I would like to leave the ball with one of you two so it's not on my person in the worst case.

She would be harder to contain like that. Maybe some of her bravado would be justified this way.

Or maybe they had one modified to ignore chips. Or maybe they'd just euthanize her if she proved hard to contain with no ball. The potential consequences of either choice weight heavily on him.

Conversation With: Two Contacts

Or maybe that's a bad idea.

An impossible question with impossible answers. Either choice could end terribly. He knew it was best not to dwell on the possibilities, but how could he not?

Conversation With: Odette

Do I have Hazel where you're from?

Odette hadn't seemed to. She knew Gladion. Hazel was nothing more than a lovely name.

If not, was I too slow, or did I lose her?

He deleted the message. He knew better than to ask questions he didn't want to know the answers to.

When did I get out? Do I look different where you come from?

As much as knowing of other Gladions unnerved him, it had also occurred to him that there could be others that weren't Gladion. Who got out too late, or not at all. Still, Odette's shared his name. That was a good sign, it wasn't what he would have chosen nowadays. Not now that he'd learned to value blending in, and the normalcy it brought. Or perhaps her Gladion didn't care about that because he couldn't seem normal either way.

He knew by now he wouldn't end up sending anything, but he typed up another message to delete. A question shouted into a void.

Am I out to you?

He closed his phone and set it on the nightstand, unsure whether he was feeling more comfortable, or less so.

 

[Flyg0n]

Whenever Steven eventually returned to his room, he would find a note of his own waiting for him on the nightstand, evidently hand delivered.

The note was written in swift but neat handwriting.

Dear Mr. Stone,

I am so sorry I missed you this morning. I didn't think to specify a place and I think I missed you. But I also got distracted. After our conversation yesterday I started thinking a lot!

You're right, maybe there are things Nosepass and I can do. So we ended up doing a lot of practicing and experimenting with moves! There's some... Very important ideas I would love to discuss with you tomorrow. Urgently if possible. We can meet at breakfast of that's ok with you! I'll be waiting for you this time, I promise.

Immensely grateful,

Hayes and Nosepass

Something about the phrasing almost suggested more than just battle strategies?

Either way it was clear Hayes seemed to be faring well after his meeting with Steven. At least some good had come of this Festival for one party.

 

[Panoramic_Vacuum]

Steven tucked the plastic cutlery and paper napkin inside his empty takeout container and leaned back in his patio chair, satisfied. He and Aggron decided dinner in their room was the best option for the night. Steven was sure if he had to wait at a table for food to arrive, he'd have been asleep before it showed up. There was also a certain guilty pleasure from eating out of styrofoam containers, especially after such a stressful day.

Aggron happily munched on some berries he'd picked on the walk back from the dining hall. They made a nice complement to his meal, which already tasted better given that his trainer no longer was a ball of worried nerves. That, and he had a few nice rocks from the caverns as an after-dinner snack.

The sun was well on its way below the horizon as Aggron's gaze slid longingly back to the room where his precious rocks awaited. Steven didn't miss his partner's hint.

"Alright, alright, we'll head back inside," he said, picking up their empty dinner containers. "I should turn in early tonight, anyway."

Aggron huffed agreeably and shuffled his way into the room. He had already curled up on his rug and was gnawing at the first rock when Steven's voice cut through the quiet of the room.

"...What's this?"

Rock forgotten for a moment, Aggron sat up and turned toward where his trainer was standing in front of the nightstand, something in his hands. He grunted a question back; he didn't know what it was either.

"It's... It's a letter," said Steven, turning to show his partner, the surprise written clear on his face. "From Hayes."

Joy and concern vied for supremacy as he held the letter aloft for Aggron to see. "He's doing well, apologized for missing us today. But he said he's got news, something important. 'Urgent' he said."

His brow furrowed in thought, and Aggron knew sleep was no longer in the cards.

"I wonder what it is he wants to tell us so badly?" He shook his head. "Ah, I wish I had asked Amara for his room number instead. That way I could go talk with him tonight."

Defeated, Steven sat down on the bed, letter still clutched in his hands. "At least we're on the same page about meeting over breakfast. And sending letters to each other, apparently," he said with a small chuckle.

Aggron waited to see if his partner would continue, but as silence settled over the pair, he gave a snort to grab Steven's attention. His gaze flicked from the letter, to the bed's pillows (lovingly replaced by the cleaning staff), back to the letter, and then back to the pillows.

Steven was two for two with Aggron's hints for the night. "You're right, there's not much more we can do tonight." Carefully he tucked the letter into the nightstand's drawer and began to get ready for bed. "Gods know I need the rest."

Satisfied, Aggron settled back down to finish off his snack. Steven turned out the light to the sound of gentle crunching, and was asleep in a matter of moments.

 

[Panoramic_Vacuum]

Steven was still in a sour mood by the time he arrived at the dorms. The conversation with Irene still festered, a nasty reminder of Reena's fate, and now the fate of four trainers and their pokemon. He shuddered to think Hayes had been that close to being another casualty, while the morbid curiosity wondered how he'd escaped such a fate when he too was caught in the ambush.

Mercifully, he ran out of time to entertain the thought, as Hayes was waiting for him in the first floor hallway.


"Ah, I hope I didn't keep you waiting long," he said. "I wanted to stop and pick up something for us, given how the morning went."

Aggron hefted his armful of takeout containers to show off the spoils that awaited.


"Please, come this way. I have a nice spot for us to eat and have a chat about your note."

Steven led the way down the hall and opened the door to his room (which mercifully was neat and orderly this morning, unlike some of the other, more exhausting nights.) He then led the way to the patio and out into the garden, finally stopping at the small table at the end of the path.

"Have a seat, and please help yourself. I grabbed a bunch of different things, since I wasn't sure what you preferred."

Aggron deposited the containers on the table, and Steven spread out the food for everyone. Aggron took several of the containers and curled up in the shade, nodding for Nosepass to join him.

"We got enough for everybody. And I have a few nice rocks stashed away for a treat, too."

Steven tucked into his plate, the food doing wonders to banish the bad taste in his mouth from Irene's confession.


"It's a bit moot at this point," he began, "but you got my note yesterday as well, I presume?"

[[@Flyg0n]]

 

[Panoramic_Vacuum]

As soon as the door closed behind them, Aggron let out a snarl so fierce that Steven winced. The big steel type stomped into the room, hunched over and growling.


"Aggron, we had to go," Steven said, his voice strangely meek. "I couldn't have asked Hayes to go back there to check himself, you know that."

Aggron kept his back to Steven, but the way he'd stopped stomping around told Steven he was at least listening. Steven found himself rooted in the doorway, unable to will himself to move any further into the room.


"We couldn't have known it would be the culprits, or that they would have attacked. They ran the night Hayes found them." Steven hated the way his desperation climbed higher every time he spoke. "For all we knew that arena should have been empty."

The growl in Aggron's throat intensified, and he hunched lower, horns aimed at the far wall of the room. All Steven could see was his partner's tail lashing back and forth.


"At least... At least we'd have been able to find Reena and the others... If the Latis hadn't arrived in time..." He almost didn't recognize his own voice any more, how choked and distant it was.


Without warning, Aggron roared and slammed his claws into a chair, sending it smashing into the nearby wall. Steven recoiled in surprise, stumbling backward and bumping into the door behind him. Aggron roared again, and Steven's legs gave out, leaving him to slide down the wall to the floor. He was shaking so badly he had to wrap his arms around his knees to try to make it stop. They'd-- no, he'd made a mistake. A terrible, terrible mistake. And they'd almost paid the price. How could he have been so foolish--

"Aggron," he choked out. "Aggron, please--"

Another piece of furniture caved in under the crushing blow of Aggron's tail, and Steven hugged himself tighter. He knew Aggron's rage was entirely justified. They'd lost. As powerful as they were, as prepared as they could have been, and they lost; utterly and completely. And not just in a simple battle, there was so much more at stake. They'd almost lost themselves. His shaking wouldn't stop.

With no more furniture in striking range, Aggron gave up with a snarl and stormed out through the patio doors into the night.

Steven sat against the door in the empty room, curled around himself, staring at the shattered pieces of wood and upholstery left in his partner's wake. The broken matchsticks of a trainer too sure of himself, too invincible, to even consider that he would end up the same as all the rest.

His head rolled back against the door with a dull thud. No, not like the others. Reena and Drampa, Mr. Okay and Mightyena, the other trainers he didn't even get the chance to know. They were gone. He wasn't. Why? They'd done nothing to deserve it, and he had. He'd been the one to fuck up. The Champion of Hoenn, and he fucked up.

His unfocused gaze settled on the ceiling, staring at something that lay beyond. The only reason he was still here was because of some stroke of divine intervention. The Eon twins had swooped in to save him, not one millisecond too soon.

"...It didn't have time to take you."

"...It didn't have time to take you."

Latias's words ricocheted around in his mind. Where were the Latis when Reena needed them? When anyone else needed them? Why save him? Why save him from his own fuck up? Why save him when he was so stupid? When he deserved to have the darkness swallow him--

"What if we hadn't reached you in time?"

He buried his head in his hands and finally let the strangled scream he'd been trying to hold in burst free.

Steven sat on the floor the rest of the night, drained, defeated, staring at the broken furniture, wondering how he could glue the pieces back together into any kind of facsimile of how they were before...

Aggron never came back in from the garden.

 

[Panoramic_Vacuum]

By the time Steven awoke in the lone surviving armchair in his dorm room, night had fallen. The room was dark, save for the soft moonlight that filtered in through the patio doors. Slowly, he sat upright and groped in the dark for the nearby table lamp. He found the switch and squinted as the room was bathed in light.

His suit jacket, waistcoat, and cravat were draped over the bar counter, and his shoes sat on the floor nearby. In the corner of the room was a pile of broken furniture pieces, brushed aside but not truly tidied up. It was then that he realized the granola bar and folded piece of paper sitting on the end table next to him, and he took stock of how he'd ended up back here.

He could hazily remember walking back to the dorms, stopping briefly at the store, then fumbling for his room key, then... he wasn't really sure after that, but Odette had been there--

Gods, she'd been here. She saw the state of his room, the aftermath of Aggron's handiwork... His eyes darted back to the end table and he snatched up the note:

Hey Steven.

Sorry in advance for my shitty handwriting. You were kind of out of it so Odile and I walked you back to your room. It was a mess so I kind of pushed everything aside for you—sorry if I made it worse, didn’t want anybody to trip. I left you a granola bar and a water bottle so you have something to eat. It’s pecha flavored; hope you can stomach that.

Meant to tell you earlier because it didn’t seem like you knew, they found a bunch of psychic, normal, and ghost type residue. Also more grey flakes that smelled…berry-like. And chemical-like. Said something about “Orb shaped” moves based on the markings left behind.

Anyway, eat the damn granola bar and take a shower. You’re all sweaty.

-Odette

Steven raised an eyebrow as he finished reading, looking at the table and then back at the note before grabbing the granola bar and opening it up. Pecha was fine, a bit sweet for his tastes, but the sad sound his stomach made from the first food it'd had in over 24 hours told him this was not the time to be picky. As he chewed, he pinched at his shirt and gave a curious sniff. Okay yeah, he was gross. Gods, he couldn't believe Odette had to deal with him like this. He owed her dinner or something as the barest minimum of an apology.

Speaking of dinner, the granola bar was gone in an instant and he was still hungry. But he couldn't find the strength to do more than deflate into the armchair, empty wrapper dangling in one hand, Odette's note in the other. What a fucking mess he was. What a mess this was. His gaze floated over to where his suitcase sat next to the wardrobe. He'd gone away with the promise to Wallace that he'd enjoy this vacation, take time to relax and destress...

Look how that turned out.

First people started disappearing. Then he almost disappeared. Then Aggron left--

Steven bolted out of the chair, his feet almost sliding out from under him as his socks met the stone floor. Odette's note fluttered to the floor, forgotten. He scanned the room again in a panic, confirming that he hadn't missed a seven foot tall mound of steel plate armor in the room.

No, he didn't, Aggron wasn't here. His heart was in his throat as he snatched up his suit jacket, jammed his feet in his shoes, and ran to the door. His head swam and his whole body protested, but he couldn't just sit around when his partner was still missing. What was he doing? What was he thinking?

His hand was on the knob when the sound of a door opening behind him made him freeze. A sleepy huff followed it, punctuated by heavy footfalls, and slowly he turned around.

His partner stood in the patio doorway, staring at him with an expression like he hadn't seen Steven in literal years. The light from the table lamp cast Aggron in a golden glow, while the moonlight behind him rimmed his helm in mercurial silver. He was here. He was here and he was okay.

Steven's jacket slipped from his hand and crumpled on the floor. "Aggron," he choked out in a raspy whisper. That was all his voice was going to allow at this point.

Aggron inclined his head ever so slightly toward Steven and gave a meek rumble. His tail swished sheepishly across the floor. Hi. Sorry.

"How--" Steven swallowed, taking a few hesitant steps toward his partner. "How are you doing?" he asked, throat suddenly dry. Gods, what a stupid thing to say. He barely gave his partner time to respond before he screwed his eyes shut and launched into his own apology.

"Aggron, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have--oof!"

He was cut off by a sudden full-body impact, but it didn't hurt...? Steven blinked as he felt a strong pressure wrap around him, and a soft rumble permeated up through his whole body. It took a second to register what had happened. Shakily, he reached up and hugged Aggron back as best he could from beneath his partner's all-encompassing embrace.

"I missed you too," he choked out. And just like that, the weight of the day hit him all at once; the shock, the fear, the anguish, the everything, and he sagged completely in Aggron's arms.

Aggron gave a startled noise at the way Steven suddenly went limp, but when he felt his trainer's hands grab on to the edge of his armor and hang on for dear life, he relaxed and tucked his chin low until it rested atop Steven's head. And then he rumbled. Rumbled deep and low so that Steven could feel it, truly know what he was saying without any words necessary. How sorry he was for his behavior, how much he cared, how grateful he was to be a part of Steven's life, and to have Steven be a part of his. It ebbed and flowed like waves against a beach, rose and fell with each new sentiment. And when he felt Steven's fingers curl tighter against his hide, he knew he'd gotten his message across.

They stayed that way for a bit, until Aggron felt Steven say something. He couldn't hear well, considering his trainer's face was buried against his chest plate, but he could feel the rumble of Steven's voice all the same (albeit in that soft, barely-there, kind of rumble humans made.) Aggron released his hold and let Steven pull back to look up at him with eyes that looked extra shiny in the dim light.

"Thank you," he repeated, now that Aggron could hear him, voice thick with emotion. "Thank you for giving me another chance."

Aggron shook his head and leaned down, gently nudging Steven's cheek with his own. Don't be silly.

Steven gave a quiet laugh, rubbing at one eye, then the other with the heel of his hand. "I guess you're right," he said, studying his muddy reflection in Aggron's armor. He reached up and wiped at the smudge he'd left from where his cheek made contact. "I'm probably on my fiftieth chance by now."

Aggron huffed and rolled his eyes, turning his head as Steven's hand moved further up his jaw to brush away some sand and grime.

"Wait," Steven's eyes narrowed as he noticed more marks on his partner's armor. "Is that a burn mark? And why do you smell like the ocean?"

Aggron's growl held an innocent lilt to it, and he stood up to his full height with a shake of his head. Not important. Not right now.

Steven was about to protest when his stomach gave a growl of its own. He looked down, sheepish, and Aggron gave a satisfied smirk. The big steel type lumbered over to the room's mini fridge and pried it open, digging out the leftover containers of takeout from their brunch with Hayes.

All of Steven's worry was forgotten at the sight of the food, and he smiled as his partner laid the spread out on the bar counter. Gratefully, he tucked into the closest container, cold. Aggron sniffed a couple of the containers, but didn't find any veggie dishes, so he sat back, content to watch Steven finally eat a decent enough meal.

As his trainer ate, something caught Aggron's attention and he wandered over to the nearby table and chair. Leaning down, he plucked Odette's letter from the ground and brought it back to the bar. He set it down next to Steven, who looked up with his chopsticks full of noodles.

"Right, I suppose I have a lot to tell you from today," said Steven between bites. "But that's for tomorrow, I think." He set down his chopsticks and rested a hand on Aggron's snout. The steel warmed quickly under his touch. "Food. Shower. Then bed. How's that sound?"

Aggron nodded in agreement. Tomorrow. For now, all that mattered was they had food, they had a bed, and they had each other. They'd deal with tomorrow when it came. Together.

 

[Shiny Phantump]

Gladion made sure to pick up some birdkeeping supplies at the shop before returning to his room. Hazel having her helmet off was lovely, but at the same dime she had four years worth of hathead to deal with. Nothing some time and care couldn't fix, though.

There wasn't anyone else here to help preen her head, so he picked up a small metal beak-comb and misted it with a faint bit of a spray he'd picked up to substitute the preening oil she didn't have. He didn't have the experience to get feathers quite perfect for flight, but that would be no concern for Hazel. He worked his way down from the top of her head, beginning to smooth out her plumage. (He realized later on that it would probably have been easier to start from the bottom. A lesson learned for next time.)

Hazel started murmuring a song as he worked, seeming quite pleased with the treatment.

At the base of her neck, though, he encountered a problem. The feathers where her mask had been pressing down for years were damaged. Some were salvageable, but others had quills that were completely crushed, and broke in two when he tried to work with them. Adult Oricorio feathers didn't fall out and regrow unless removed, since their colour changing was hard to replicate. Though Hazel's were sadly still numb to her type, remaining the same silvery colour no matter what type she took on, the same would be true of hers.

As gently as he was able to, he took one of the broken feathers and removed it. He looked to Hazel for a reaction. "Did that hurt?"

She tilted her head. "Did what hurt? I didn't notice anything."

Right. She didn't really do the whole 'pain' thing to a normal extent. He probably couldn't hurt her if he tried, not that he ever planned to test that hypothesis.

"Aw. Why did you stop? Is it over?"

He returned to the task at hand. "Just finishing up..."

Once they'd finished up, and Gladion had packed the supplies away, it was time for bed. And with it, Hazel's first time using a pillow. She found it much more comfortable than trying to sleep with her helmet on. It also meant she could rest her chin against Gladion while holding him like a Stufful without fear of nicking him.

It was the best sleep she'd had in years.

 

[Panoramic_Vacuum]

As soon as Steven closed the door behind them, he went straight to the bar, set down their takeout containers, and grabbed a glass from the shelf. A quick trip to the bathroom, and he came back with it half-filled with water. He set the glass down and Aggron stepped forward, depositing the gracidea gently in its temporary home.

They both stood back and stared at the glass, the pink of the petals a stark contrast to the gray earth tones of the room.

"This is what you're supposed to do with cut flowers, right?" said Steven. He'd seen all sorts of vessels filled with various flowers and plants in Phoebe's office at the League. Some were potted with dirt, but others just held water and their flower of choice. He looked to his partner for confirmation.

Aggron nodded, eyes still squarely on the gracidea as if he were to look away it might instantly wilt.

Steven smiled at the way Aggron's overprotectiveness extended to his gardening habits as well. He gave the big steel type a pat on the arm. "It'll be fine. It was created from Shaymin's powers, it won't wither overnight. First thing we'll find our host and deliver it straight to Clink."

Aggron huffed some air from his nose in confirmation, but still remained rooted to the spot. The breeze from his breath caused the flower's petals to quiver ever so slightly.

Steven shook his head with a grin, and headed over to his wardrobe to settle in for the night. Aggron was still staring at the gracidea when Steven returned and slid into a seat at the far end of bar, sans jacket and waistcoat. He grabbed their takeout containers and set Aggron's portion at the seat next to him, popping the lid open.

"C'mon, let's eat."

The smell of his food was the only thing that got Aggron to move, and he sidled over to Steven and picked up his container. They ate in silence, Aggron sneaking glances every so often back down the bar toward the gracidea, just to make sure. When they finished, Steven cleared the counter and moved about the room, tidying up (though he avoided the pile of broken furniture in the corner.) Aggron still didn't move from the bar.

The sun had dipped below the horizon by the time Steven finished putting everything away. From his vantage point near the bed, he could see the entirety of Aggron's back as his partner still sat vigilant at the bar. Scuffs and fading scorch marks dotted his armor, and Steven recalled the scene earlier in the forest, when Aggron apparently had already introduced himself to Laura's massive Noivern.

Steven moved to the nightstand and slid the drawer open, pulling out his polishing kit. He sat down on the end of the bed and opened the kit, laying out each piece. Cleaning solution, scrubbing cloth, polishing wax, buffing pad and compound, finishing cloth. When he was done, he unbuttoned the cuffs and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt.

"Hey, Aggron," he said to catch his partner's attention. When Aggron looked his way, Steven tipped his chin toward the rug at the foot of the bed.

Aggron looked at Steven and the kit's contents, then back at the gracidea one more time, and then obediently made his way over to his trainer. He plopped down on the rug and curled up, exposing the plates on his back to Steven, which conveniently left his snout pointing toward the bar. Steven shook his head with a smile and set to work methodically cleaning, polishing, and buffing Aggron's armor back to a pristine finish.

"So," he said, working firm, steady circles over a particularly stubborn burn, "you fought that Noivern, didn't you?"

Aggron didn't answer, but the way he shifted at the question gave Steven all the answer he needed.

"I'm not mad at you," he said quietly, setting the scrubbing pad down and picking up the wax.

"After what happened..." His hand slowed, stopping as his gaze fell, remembering the previous day's events. "I... didn't handle it well either."

He felt Aggron's rumble up through his arm, and he resumed his work, first with the wax, then with polishing cloth. "I'm just glad that you're alright. And that you made a new friend."

Steven set down the cloth and picked up the buffing compound. "Something tells me we're going to need all the allies we can get."

Aggron snorted, the tip of his tail flopping one way, then the other.

"I know, I'm worried, too," said Steven. "But that Mightyena trainer, Mitch, I think someone said, they're back with us."

That got Aggron's attention, and he turned toward Steven with a surprised look. Steven took advantage of Aggron finally looking away from the bar, and swiftly grabbed his partner's jaw and began to polish the crown of Aggron's helm. Aggron made a half grumbling-half whining sound, but didn't protest any further. Steven worked soothing circles around the base of each horn, paying careful attention to remove all the sand from Aggron's ear holes. Aggron's eyes slid shut and he huffed contentedly.

"Odette saved them with Jirachi's wish," Steven said, moving on to Aggron's snout, which his partner fairly shoved into Steven's hands. "That's huge, to get someone back... It means the rest, they can be saved, too."

Aggron murmured a noise of agreement, letting his head fall back onto his claws as Steven resumed work on Aggron's back. The room lapsed into silence as Steven moved plate-by-plate until he was at the base of Aggron's neck.

"So," he began, breaking the silence, "did you win? We have a reputation to uphold, after all."

The teasing in his tone made Aggron grumble, the tip of his tail flicking in annoyance, and he tilted his head one way, then the other. Not a no, but not a yes either.

Steven laughed as he finished the last piece of armor and began to pack up the kit. "Good thing that wasn't an official match. A draw would be a quite the blemish on our record." He made a show of buffing out an imaginary scuff on Aggron's head.

His partner grumbled again and shifted like he was going to rise and leave the rug, but he was far too comfortable and settled for tossing his head with a huff, which only made Steven laugh more.

"I'll stop, I'll stop," he said between chuckles. He snapped the case shut and got up from the bed to put it away. The nightstand drawer closed with a small squeak. "I meant what I said, though. We'll need all the allies we can get to stop whatever evil has come to this island."

Aggron turned to look at Steven, and found his trainer's gaze resting on the gracidea flower atop the bar. He tipped his head to the side in an unspoken question.

Steven found his partner's stare and met it with a determined one of his own. "This is bigger than you or me, this mystery. But we're going to crack it open, all of us, together."

 

[Sinderella]

♪

If this was any indication of how this meeting was going to go, Odette was set to cancel. She felt a headache coming on the longer she stood in the middle of this giant, unfamiliar room, listening to Odile try to argue with her.


"̵H̴o̴l̸d̵ ̵o̸n̴,̶ ̴h̵o̴l̴d̷ ̶o̷n̴-̸-̸"̶ she yelled, hands out in front of her as if she were trying to keep Odette from talking. Because she was.


"Odile, you're not--" she tried to cut her off.


"̴-̸-̵h̵o̶l̴d̴ ̸o̴n̴-̵-̷"̵


"--dude, I swear to fucking--"


"̵-̴-̵h̸o̴l̷-̶-̴"̶


Now she was getting very aggravated. "DUMBASS, WE'VE ALREADY DEDUCED-



"H̴̗͆͆̀O̶̯̜̎̿̽̍L̷̼̦̙̊̏̿Ḑ̵̖̎̌̆͊̇ ̸̛̘̍̕͠Ŏ̸̩̰̌̐N̶͇̞͎͉̺̏̐͝.̸̨̧̣̫͓̾"Odile screamed. The force of her voice caused the lights to flicker. Odette wasn't fucking listening. Maybe if she'd let her talk, she could get her goddamn words out.

"H̴̫͝i̴͕͒s̸̝̽ ̷͍͗p̸̨͊ä̶̙́r̴͇͆t̶͇͝n̴̫̒e̴̯̔r̶̜̄ ̵͖͠w̵̱̑a̷͉̎s̸͎̎ ̴̻̐a̸̤͠ ̴̻͝H̴̨́ō̴̖o̶͎̐p̸͉͝a̷̘͑.̶̞͛ ̴̮̃R̵͉̀i̴̦̓g̸̥̓h̶̦͝t̸͈͒?̸̛̫ ̷͇̋Ă̵̫ǹ̶͍d̴̩́ ̸̛̹w̸̙̋h̷͎̿a̷̛̗t̴̮͌ ̶̭͝w̶̰̌a̸̦̚s̷̭̐ ̷̙͊h̶͙͛ì̷ͅs̷͍̿ ̸̦̍p̸̜̃a̵̙͐r̵̆ͅt̵̥̾n̵͍̄e̴̖͌r̵͍͗?̴̹̿ ̴̲́Ã̵͕ ̷̻̀Ǩ̴̬l̷̻̽e̴͕͂f̶͚͠k̸̯̐ì̴̹.̸͙̊ ̷͕͌T̵̨̈́h̵̻̓e̶̗̍ ̷̙͊P̸̜̈́ō̷̦k̷̞͂è̶͈m̵̬͂ó̷̖n̷͓͆ ̵͎͠w̶̝̓i̶̫̒t̵̠̐h̷̼͛ ̶̝̎a̶͍͋l̴͓̏l̸̙̿ ̸̛̺t̴̲̄ḩ̵̓e̴̙͝ ̶̻̂k̵̘͐e̷͉̅y̴͙̓s̵̲̕,̴̰͑ ̷̲̌b̷̼͗r̵̗̋o̵̭̽.̴,"̶̩͂ she spat, bobbing her head with every syllable. In order to assure Odette most likely wouldn't attempt to get another word in edgewise, she paced toward the back of the room.


Odette watched Odile go, positively unblinking, before whipping her head around to shoot a glare at Enora. "I'm gonna stab her," she announced dryly.


Enora ceased licking her paw from her spot on the large bed and peered over to the quarreling vessel-'mon duo. "I'd settle for duct tape, but that might work better with her."


No. No. No. Odile wasn't fucking done yet. Nobody was stabbing anybody--not when she was so blatantly RIGHT.

"̷̱̊Y̵͓͋O̴̩̚Ụ̵̈́'̵̠͠R̶̘͘E̸̻͊ ̶͚̂G̴̲͊O̵͉͊Ṇ̴̌N̴͚͗Ä̷̱́ ̵̔ͅL̶̞͌O̵̢͛Ó̶͙K̵̖͛ ̸̨̛A̶̰̽T̵̢͆ ̵̈́͜M̷̻͗E̶̳͗ ̷̢͆Ḁ̵͗N̶̘̂D̶̙͐ ̵̪̀T̴͚̕E̶̫͂L̴̥̃L̸̺͋ ̷̣̍M̴͉̀Ḛ̵̏ ̶̛͜T̶̩͂H̶̡̀A̴̘̍T̷͎́ ̶̥͝Ĩ̷͚'̶̨̓M̴̼̈́ ̸̦͝W̸͉̆R̶̬̍Ô̷̫N̴̢̽G̸̭͘?̴̰̄ ̴̨̒A̷̹̿M̶̢͐ ̷͍̆I̵̥͗ ̷̡͝W̸̠͒R̷̟̎O̵̫͆Ņ̷͘G̸̹̀?̷̖̂"̸͇̓


Odette whined in annoyance began to rub her eyes aggressively. "You came back from the room and insisted--"


"̸̮̏Ï̶̩T̶͙́ ̷̯́H̴͉̾Ă̴̰S̸̱̿ ̶̹̐A̴͚̾L̴̨̊L̶̟͠ ̶̻͂Ṫ̷̠H̴͈̑Ė̸̻ ̵̜̌K̴͉̿E̷̬͋Ý̵̹S̵̬͋ ̶͇͘A̶̧͆Ń̷̯D̸͙͛ ̵̢͘A̸͎͘L̶̯̋Ḻ̵̿ ̶̫̕T̷͙̏H̴̻̾E̷͖̕ ̶̺̿M̷̟̈́Ÿ̷̬́T̴͍͑H̸̹̑Ỉ̸͉C̷̱̾Ṡ̷̲ ̶͇́Ķ̸̓N̸͝ͅỌ̷̄W̵̰̽ ̷̝̄T̸̮̑Ḧ̷̟́E̵̟̓M̶̺̊,̴̖͗ ̵̱͠D̷̥̐Ȍ̴̘G̷̬̐.̷̦̿"̶̪͠


There was a knock at the door, causing Odette to snap her gaze over to it. She waved a dismissive hand toward Odile and went to open it. "Okay, I don't have time for this."


Yeah, that's what she thought."̶G̸r̶o̷w̴ ̴u̶p̷,̸ ̸b̴r̸o̴-̶-̶"̸


"--I'm not fighting with--"


"̷-̶-̴g̷r̸o̴w̴ ̵u̸p̸,"̸ she repeated, disappearing into the bathroom.

***​

♪

​

Well, it looked like most of the group was here. At least, those she'd seen around for the most part. Wallace, of course, wasn't going to be here, and she noticed that Steven and Aggron had also not shown. That worried her just a little, but she didn't want to let that show with so many people in full view of her now.

"Thanks for coming everyone. Sorry about the noise," she greeted, taking a stance on a small ottoman to assure everyone could see her. "I'd like to refrain from any sugarcoating from here on out and get straight to the point. Our antagonist is getting more and more full of himself by the day, so we need to figure out a plan of action to find Orzo and figure out if he's who we think he is, or not. That being said, if you don't have anything of actual substance to offer, keep your gods damned mouth shut. The less time we're here, the less time that fucker has to figure out we're onto it. For ease of moving forward, I'll take charge in keeping the conversation on track and--"


"̶H̵a̶n̴g̷ ̵o̶n̶,̵"̸ Odile snapped. ̵"̵W̵h̷y̷ ̷d̴o̴ ̶y̶o̸u̶ ̸g̷e̷t̶ ̷t̶o̶ ̵b̷e̶ ̵i̴n̴ ̸c̵h̸a̸r̴g̸e̷ ̵w̶h̴e̵n̵ ̸I̸ ̵w̷a̴s̸ ̷t̸h̷e̷ ̸o̷n̸e̶ ̵w̷h̵o̶ ̶f̴o̷u̸n̸d̸ ̴t̷h̸e̷ ̴r̵o̷o̸m̴?̸"̷


Odette paused, then slowly turned her entire body to look at Odile, who was sitting on the bed next to Enora, angrily shoving communion wafers into her mouth. "Because I have this thing called an attention span."


Okay, she disagreed with that. Odile DEFINITELY had an attention span...when people were angry and beating each other up and perhaps when war and carnage and dismemberment were happening. And that wasn't really what they were here for right now. All anger from their recent argument aside, she slouched in defeat.

"̷Y̶o̵u̶ ̵w̷i̵n̸ ̵t̶h̴i̶s̶ ̶t̵i̶m̶e̵,̸ ̶b̸o̵z̶o̷.̴"̵


Huffing, she faced her fellow Trousselin-ers again. "Per my text, we know where Xavian's room is, and apparently, Clink has been healed of their poisoning. Good news, but this doesn't really answer any of our questions at the moment. Where's Orzo? Are Clink and Orzo in kahoots? How were they poisoned? Who the fuck is this Golden King? All things we need to get to the bottom of soon."

Crossing her arms, she gave a single firm nod. "If anybody here has some information they'd like to get out in the open, or has any ideas on how to move forward," she said, raising a stern finger up toward Odile, who had looked like she was bracing to yell something, "now's the time to open your mouth. I have my own ideas in mind, but I'd like to open the floor to those who wish to speak. Have at it."