Pokémon Roost, a gift fic

[K_S]

Roost: a gift fic​

Spoiler: summary

Set in the Manga verse, a gift for a writer on a different site. I figured I'd share it here.

When the dust had settled in the clearing at Illex the 'dex holders had seen a miracle. A Legend-born curse had been beaten back by the divine mechanisms of another Legend. A soul on death's door was restored to full health...

And normally that'd been a reason to whip out the banners and party. At least that's how things were supposed to go when "good things happened", or so the dex holders had said to Green way back when.

No one was celebrating once the light show died down. Not when the recipient of Celebi's had been -per Red- the world's greatest foe.

That was the start of the insanity... When Pryce and Lance slipped from the shadows, denouncing the miracle, and the Rocket, declaring the man had done crimes far worse than their own... And when Red and the others had started listening...

Green remembered. Lance with a laser of death meant to wipe out all humanity. Pryce and his icy prison, trying to hollow her out one day at a time. Those two mad men starred in the bulk of her nightmares...

And these were who the good guys were listening to? They'd lost their minds.

Green was done, let the League, Legends, Rocket, and Regions have each other... She was taking Silver, and heading home. And so they went trying the novelty of"safe" for a while...

Until things hadn't worked out, and Silver, wiser than her, had left.

Giovanni's call weeks later hadn't been a surprise or something to fear. Their first call, if anyone asked Green, had gone something like this:

"If you'd stuck around, like ten minutes, none of this would have happened. So, just so you know, I totally blame you, for everything."

"Noted."

This mess, and holy Mew it was the mother of all messes, was all Giovanni's fault, and Green wasn't going to let him live it down. Ever.

Spoiler: CW/Trigger warnings

Gaslighting,
criminal activity,
candid discussions of murder and torment
Child abuse
some allusions to sexual activities

The Roombas had been the start of the madness.


And much to his displeasure, it'd taken a full day to sort out. There'd been a small fleet of Roombas released into the Rocket compound. Some were set up with paintbrushes to spread stripes of color down halls, the more exciting ones were equipped with knives.

The one in his personal office was ripped from the annals of the internet. The mobile puck was topped with a ceiling fan, wires and batteries had given the fan atop it enough kick to spin, and the blades of the fan had their own pointed attachments. Despite being built to maim, the device was easily dispatched. Rhyhorn had kicked the reappropriated cleaning disk, causing it to tip, and once on its side, it flopped about like a drunken magikarp.

The adlibbed saw blade dug gouges into the carpet, while the boss of Team Rocket watched the destruction in bemused fascination.

Considering it was chewing through a tacky bit of carpet older than the Don, Giovanni left it to its gyrations. The device made a peculiar backdrop when he hauled the inept security teams into a meeting room and tore into them. One blistering ultimatum, about how in God's name could they have missed something so juvenile, so stupid, as this... They were sent out to coral and dispose of the remaining ‘bots, tend the damages, or they’d be disposed of down to the last man.

They'd never worked faster in their lives.

As for the specialized device, left in his office, once the meeting was done Rhydon plucked roomba off the floor. Turning the puck in his grey, stony, hands, the beast sniffled and snuffed the seams and edges. Each clink of the knife striking stone as he worked was ignored. Scenting nothing incidentary or poisonous Rhydon snapped off each deadly pedal with extreme prejudice.

The ground type left the gizmo flipped in the center of the room. Wheels up, whirling at nothing. Sure it wasn’t rigged to blow, Giovanni handled the juvenile attempt at murder him personally. A flick of the switch made if stop whirling, and a set of tools, and some effort, had the roomba broken down into its base components.

The contents were… interesting.

Everything was low quality. The roombas were an off-brand competitor, the blades were cheaply made, sporting logos from two different restaurants stamped on their flats. An internet search would later add fuel to the theory that everything had been purloined.

This had, per his research, started with an odd spree of damages to security systems. Crude smash and grabs, where wires in the cameras were spooled out and the hollow shells hit the black market. A hotel in Viridian reported a fan was stolen from its lobby. The paint that was being mopped up was likely taken from construction sites, though there were no reports of that, only Giovanni's idle speculation.

The stunt pointed to an up-and-coming youngster dabbling in the Game who needed to be slapped down before they sunk to greater depths.

Also, how the Hell had this... miscreant broke into a mob-run office, guarded by made men, six stories up, in the heart of Saffron?

If it weren't for some alarming tells, Giovanni would have moved heaven and hell to catch the brat. He'd let stunts like this slide before and it'd lead to the Red insanity. But what he should have done, would have done, was held off by two finds.

The first, there were a handful of red hairs, bright and long, tucked into a nook of the device. Those he pulled out, ran over his fingers, as he looked over the untrained wire work.

Each cut, reroute, and adjustment had scarred plastic plates and wires with ice damage. There’d also been a few fine black hairs of a dark type… The crisp NeverMelt about the follicles marked the fur as part of the Sneasel line and after that last discovery...

Further research wasn't necessary.

At least for finding out who his "assailant" had been. As for the prank's architect, well Silver's partner was always as slippery as an oiled ekans in the best of times.

His usual go-to, combing local paper's crime sections for break-ins with familiar M.O.s. (Ice damage and aerial assaults were the most common tells) came up wanting. Recalling what he’d learned from various spies and psychics, he turned his attention from local crime to far-flung Sevii.

When no feel-good periodical pieces popped up, about reunions and heroics, with Green at the center stage, he saluted the girl’s cunning. Then consulted quieter, less legal, resources. A combover of Sevii's school system procured a list of new students.

Green's name stood out like a sore thumb.

The child did have a rather uncommon name, and as she wasn't of age, so there was little she could do about it. She just had the poor misfortune of being unable to coax her parents to change it. She also, he mused, finding Mary Azule, Greens mother's law firm, in five minutes, had been unable to encourage her parents to go into hiding. Or to take any major effort to obscure her presence.

The beach site picture of Frank Azule and a wooden goods stand, with a shy, camera-avoidant youngling in that damnably similar sun hat, was just the last piece of evidence he needed.

It was posted only a few weeks ago.

Leaving social media, he backtracked to academic records. He'd found the girl had been home long enough to be starting a second semester in some academy or other. Curious, there was no notation of Silver also being enrolled.

It'd been child's play to trace academics to a home address, to a home phone number, to a family cell phone account.

And again, curious and concerning, Silver was not listed.

Making the call, well he’d been considerate. He accommodated her time zones and made a point of calling her at a reasonable time outside of her class schedule. He'd even granted her a few hours past her last class to accommodate any after-school nonsense she might be indulging.

Lounging in his home office, half past three in the morning his time, he’d set a cup of coffee before him and took sips at it between rings.

It wasn’t a long wait for Green's patience to break.

She was as she’d been in all their encounters. Rude, impatient, and impertinent. Letting him get routed to voice mail five times before picking up was petty. Or perhaps an attempt at being smart. Hoping that some tracking software or other would give her an answer to who this was without having to talk.

Well, she could hope, but it was futile. He’d set his device to automatically call hers unceasingly. On the sixth call, in utter irritation, she picked up to tell him off.

“I swear to Mew,” the girl’s voice carried quite well, and Giovanni eased the phone from his ear a bit. “Whoever the heck this is, you’ve got to be the pushiest telemarketer ever! I’m telling you, once, right now, I don’t want whatever you’re selling-“

“I was wondering if Silver might be available to talk.”

Silence, broken by a yelp of terror, then a dial tone, was her answer.

Clearly, Green had not learned any manners since Silph. He hadn’t expected much from a child who had allied with other children to tear down a building in response to a perfectly reasonable hostage situation. Still, it was frustrating that a long day had bled into a long, pointless, night, and the next day would be met with precious few hours of sleep.

He wasn't an unreasonable man though. He'd tolerate the child’s skittishness for a week, before coming down to visit in person.

Both he and the child were spared that though. Three days of calling around her means coaxed her to meet his. She picked up, and spoke, rather than hung up.

“He’s not here.”

Well at least she cut to the chase; he hadn’t even needed to repeat himself.

“And you don’t know where he’s at?”

“Around, about. We tried… He tried to settle here after… Celebi... but things weren’t good.”

Celebi, and Illex, had been a turning point.

At death's door due to a Legend's malice taking the form of disease, he'd appealed a different Legend. And on an apathetic whim, the Healer had intervened.

He’d been given a second chance at life, poisons purged, damages reversed, and shaking the light of Celebi’s healing from his eyes Giovanni had found himself surrounded by Lance and the dex’ holders. And while Pryce had been there, and the old man’s presence had been a temptation to divest the old fool of his life, the Rocket’d considered his audience. Surrounded by children and their powerful beasts, he weighed morals against sense.

It had been saner to withdraw.

Taking his army of Rockets with him had been a mercy, and backhanded thanks for their efforts in speeding along his recovery.

Letting Silver and Green be had been an attempt, roundabout mind, of reconciliation. If the boy wanted nothing to do with him, then fine. He'd let his child make his way with his closest companion for the time being. Eventually, he'd ease the boy back to his side, but in that moment of being reborn...

He'd decided to be magnanimous.

Clearly, such generosity had been a mistake.

“What happened?"

Silence was the girl's answer, and only the lack of dial tone told him she hadn't hung up again. He strained his ears and he could hear subtle background noises. The crunch of her footfalls, this hiss of surf and beach. He wondered if she were foolish enough to be having this call on speaker. Her voice murmured something in response to a salutation, confirming she was that stupid. So he waited far longer than he should, while she walked, and she gathered her thoughts.

“We ditched Oak’s goodie-goodie squad almost as fast as you did.” Her tones were a curious mix, sickly sweet and acidic sharp. “If you’d of stuck around ohhh ten minutes, we’d of probably bugged you for a lift out.”

The past, and its regrets, even ones he hadn’t been aware of, were worthless things to mull over. Still, his hands clenched, as frustration seethed in his gut. Ten minutes, how could have things gone to Hell that fast?

If he’d lingered, even a portion of that span, he might have overheard something. Found some reason or way to twist things so that Silver could have gone with him. Hell, he should have just taken Silver with him.

But it was in the past, and the past, despite Pryce’s mad, roundabout, efforts, was as it’d ever been. Unretreavable. Drawing a deep breath the Rocket Boss flattened his hands on the desk’s edge. Violence, for now, would get him nothing.

However, information gathered now could be applied later.

He exhaled, slow and soft, willing the rage back.

“And?”

”The other ‘dex holders… Well after they decided Lance was perfectly alright never mind the guy tried to fry half of Kanto. Well after that, they pulled out a donphan load of crap about Him being redeemed. Never mind we told them what He did…”

The child’s voice crackled, under the wash of pain. Of humiliation. A confession dismissed, a lifetime of pain disregarded, and the knowledge that these “heroes”, her friends, weren’t as good as they seemed.

“We left. I gave Oak his ‘dex back and, screw him, I kept Blasty. Silver returned Fer’ to Elm though. We were done, with Oak, the League, and the other ‘dex holders.”

A choked sob, and some static, he waited out the girl’s crying jag. Taking a draw from his drink, Giovanni mulled over what wasn’t being said. Pryce, redeemed, and clearly wanting something to do with his old slaves. The man's story was suspect from first to last. If Giovanni had stopped, lingered, perhaps even made a more serious attempt on that old Ice Trainer’s life, he might have been there long enough to see and interfere.

But he hadn’t, and this was the fallout.

Finding her voice, and anger all at once, Green, rallied. “We don’t owe no one anything, and no one has any leverage over us and… And we tried to go home… To my home….” One drawn breath, deep and shaking, anger felled as reality set in. “And it didn’t work out.”

He could pry. Ply out details; twist her with mere words until she was telling him everything by playing on her fears and striking her vulnerabilities. All it’d take would be the mere hinting of his power and resources.

He obviously had her number; he clearly knew where she lived and her schedule. He could disappear her parents with a call. Less than a handful of words and her whole family would be at his mercy, and she’d have to tell him everything to get them back.

Old Rocket ploys, yes, but from what he’d heard from the mouths of the other children culled by the Mask of Ice, such were the motions of Pryce’s own power games. Drink done, Giovanni set aside his glass and considered the lit clock on the back wall. Basic arithmetic confirmed it was nearing four a clock, Sevvi time, if Green lingered any longer on this walk she’d likely be missed.

To that anxiety, that remembered and present sense of wondering and worry for his child, Giovanni indulged mercy of a sort.

“I think… we have a bit to talk about, face to face.” It wasn’t quite a suggestion and he heard her breath catch as she cottoned on to the threat. “Commercial phones are horridly insecure.”

“I don’t want you here.” Old indignation and old beliefs were tabbed on as a venomous afterthought. “You’re as bad as he is.”

The poor child couldn’t even say Pryce’s name. That’s how hard and deep the man’s hooks were in her psyche.

“Can you get to me here? Because that's the only other option."

Silence, as she wrestled juvenile back talk and logic and came up with nothing, witty or otherwise, to say.

“How about this, I’ll cut you a deal, Green Azule. You help me, I’ll help you. And I’ll be a gentleman and help you first. I come, just me, no one from the Team, no armies, no mafia, no experiments to wreak havoc. I appear, on the doorstep of your parents’ home, unarmed, as indisputable proof of all your stories. I bring proof, of the Mask of Ice, of Silph, of anything and everything you need to prove to your parents what you need to prove to them.”

“That you’re the Boss of Team Rocket?”

“Don’t get uppity, brat.” Giovanni snarled, lips quirking despite his warning. “But my services come with one, small, string attached,”

“I help you find him? Silver?”

“Correct, so do we have a deal?”

Green lingered in the line, nearly perfectly silent, thinking over angles and edges until. After a long pause, she said, “I want two days, to think about it, and to pick a time.”

Reasonable, more than. He said as much and she chirped, utterly false and carefree, how he wasn’t obviously the Boss of anything, he was too much of a pushover for that. It was a flimsy effort to cover for his candor, and if he were using a commercial line that Interpol had hacked.

Well, it might have held in a court of law to cover him. Her effort was appreciated, and he ended the call with a wry.

“Goodbye Green, two days, same time, I expect an answer.”

“Whatever you say, Uncle G!”

To that uncalled-for bit of sass, Giovanni resolved to bring his largest flying type from his stable when he did swing by. Her hanging up, thus assuring she got the last word in, cemented that plan. He'd get something large and nasty-minded from his stables. Some bird of to scare her senseless, and dissuade her from running her mouth at him.

"Uncle G''" of all the damn, fool, things..

 

[K_S]

Chapter 2, the visit

Final draft 1/4/25

Spoiler: Trigger Notes

TW: for discussed child abuse and torture and an unsupportive environment. Green's parents have issues and denail was their maladaptive solution and there's fall out from that.
While not graphic the child death/abuse is very candid so if you're easily triggered drop me a line and I can PM you a chapter with the trigger sections edited out or summarized, just let me know what you'd prefer. There's some profanity, but then Gio's power play gets to Green, and Green's hardly a saint.
I also did some tonal twings to Green to make her sound younger, because she's still a pretty young kid and under pressure, she reverts a bit to a younger mindest...

It was a regular night, in that fuzzy time that was not quite sundown but a bit after dinner. And because dinner wasn’t takeout there were things to do after dinner. Mum was cleaning the dishes, Green drying them beside her, perched on a step stool because she wasn’t quite tall enough to reach everything yet. Still, the tool didn't make her feel quite like a little girl, because Green only needed the first step, not the second.

The last time she'd really remembered doing dishes and having to use the second step was a mere two days before her capture. She'd had to stand on her tiptoes to reach anything, and despite mainly splashing around she'd been so proud. Crowing a loud, look, she was an adult and could do adult things now!

That was ages ago, and hopefully, someday soon, Green wouldn't need that last step up. Until then, Mama’s arm around her shoulder, an idle hug as they worked, was nice. Green didn't even mind the wet handprint left behind. It was another one of those small things that reaffirmed Green was home.

The main sounds of the moment were water running, the soft scrape of soapy fabric over plastic and silverware, interspaced by the click of things being set in their place. There came a different click and the soft muted babble that confirmed that Da’d turned the TV on. The spit of static, and flickers from the corner of her eye confirmed he was hunting up a news station for them to enjoy. Watching the news was a family thing, where they talked about what was being said, to "keep up in the know". Unlike other people's houses, where TV was a silent affair, programs were an avenue for the Azule's to share thoughts, feelings, and worries. Or considering Green's slant for sarcasm proudly inherited from both parents, shows were things to be bantered at.

And since it was election season politicians were to be made fun of too.

Especially if they were scandalous.

“Feet, young lady.” Mum huffed and Green, smiled, settling herself more center on her perch to get the last plater dried just right. She'd ridden raging Blastoise in battle, but at home, she minded her feet because Mum liked her being cautious.

So, even though it was silly, Green’d do so many silly things to make her happy.

There were a lot of clicks and grumbles from the living room. Dad's daily argument with the programming was in full force. Being on the edge of two Regions, allowed the perk of twice as many stations if you played with the receivers a bit. Father worked in electronics and computers; he was more than good enough to do some digital piracy. And had happily done so, even if it was illegal, to keep them from having to pay the premiums.

Not that Green cared. Mum’d complain about it, sure, but she would stop when Dad found her a new Johotian soap to binge.

Immersed in the comfortingly familiar, the rap on the front door nearly made Green hop. Though hopping was stupid. She knew he was coming…

But she hopped despite it being stupid, and Mum braced her. Coaxing her down, and giving the door and its knocker a withering look. Never mind it’d never be seen, the door being in the way and all.

Mum fell into a familiar pattern, kicking up a verbal patter to better soothe Green's anxiety. But Green didn’t need Mum’s assurances. This visitor was more than expected, he'd been scheduled and was even exactly on time. Fear on the decline, because he’d promised to behave civilized and she wasn’t stupid enough to trust that, so Green’d set up plans to encourage it... She wasn't worried. She'd promised herself she’d make sure he kept his promise. And she had Nido’s pokeball in her pocket. The ‘mon had orders to sit on him pointy sides down, to encourage good behavior.

Because she trusted Nido’, almost more than anything, Green tipped Mum a smile and shrug.

“I’m alright.” Then louder, just to make sure Da heard, and if their guest did, all the better. “It’s proba’ly a ‘marketer Da!’” Green hollered. The walls weren’t paper-thin, but the kitchen was close to the front door, so it was likely he did. Also Green didn’t really need to holler for Da' to hear, but she did anyway.

Because he seemed the type not to like loudness, he’d called Blue a brat for yelling at him about the hostages and…

And while petty, he wasn’t very nice, so Green didn’t need to be either.

Sort of like how she didn’t have to contribute to the house's defenses by bugging the house's doorbell to shock anyone who rang it. And shame he hadn’t rung it. It likely wouldn’t have mattered if he’d been shocked anyway, Red’s ‘chu probably numbed him to shocks and stuff.

The door swung open, enough to make the lock chain rattle, and she could hear him speaking to Da'.

“I understand this is a delicate time for you and your family, and that this is a deeply personal matter but… your child and mine have a commonality that we need to discuss… A shared history linked in Viridian…” And never mind she’d known he’d lead with the abduction. Shock was the fastest way to get the door open, and playing on old traumas, he’d said he would, but it made hearing even the allusions… no easier. Even with Mum wrapping her arm around her, and glaring balefully at the figure who was standing on the threshold. “I believe, Mr. Azule, that it would be best if the rest of this conversation occurred inside.”

He was talking to Da’ in smooth, soft, slightly accented words. Silver’d never spoken odd like that. Idly Green wondered why Silver never sounded like his father. Even as she nudged out of her mother’s hold and went closer.

Bristling, never mind Da' didn’t have a ‘mon to his name, and wasn’t meant for fighting, Da’ glared at him expression stony.

“I’m sorry sir, but I think you’re at the wrong house.”

“Really?” And forget every promise he made, of no armies, no mob, no danger, Giovanni Sakaki’s voice dropped to lethal levels. “This isn’t the home of Green Azule and her family? You might want to update your mailbox outside then.” Lips curling into a Persian’s grin, all edges, and cruelty, the Rocket bared his teeth at Da’, dark eyes thinning. “This isn’t the home of the child who rescued mine from the Mask of Ice-“

“-That… You are not…” Da sputtered. Paling, because he hadn’t believed. Not him, or Mum, and part of their news-watching was to show her about how things could look one way and be another. To help her critical thinking along enough so that she could tell them what really happened.

It’d been a smothering sort of love, and she’d been so hungry for any love she’d forgiven them their unwillingness to listen. Accepted the domestic tranquility built about a lie, because for her, what was one more lie but another mark on the scoreboard?

Silver hadn’t agreed. He had argued and fussed in his quiet way, and finally, when they’d only responded to him with softness and evasions the redhead had snapped. One too many “the Mask is a delusion” talks and he’d stormed out, taking Murkrow and Sneasel, and not looking back.

He'd called her, the first night he was off of Sevvi, to tell her he was alright, just not coming back. Or talking to her parents ever again. She was trying to wear Silver down, her birthday was in a few months after all, but maybe, Giovanni might be faster.

Which was the only reason she’d let him come here.

And though petty it was gratifying to see someone talk about the Mask of Ice and not get shut down, shushed, and patted on the head, and told to think, really think, because such fanciful things happened in stories, dear heart, not to real people, not in the real world.

And Giovanni was still talking, in those clipped, accent marred, words. “I assure you, Mr. Azule, I am not some actor paid off to reinforce whatever delusions you think your daughter is harboring. She doesn’t have that type of money and I don’t have time to waste. Not while my son is missing. My son, who was, in your custody for several months.” Taking a deep breath, Giovanni’s posture eased, from the looming he’d partaken to bully Red, to a more sedate stance. “And the rest of this talk needs to happen inside.’

And seeing Da', so pale and shaken, but trying for bravery, trying so hard, Green softened. Da’ probably thought this was the Mask of Ice, even though she’d told Mum and Da’ who Mask was, a foreign gym leader, old and icy cold, sometimes made of ice, sometimes not. They just hadn’t listened well enough.

Still, Da' was trying. So she set aside her anger and frustration, to chime in.

“He means Silver, Daddy. This is Silver’s Dad.” And full truth hovered on her lips; she swallowed it with a bitter smile, adding another mark. “He’s Viridian’s gym leader.”

“Despite Blue’s and Red’s deafening complaints to the contrary, I still am.”

And to that confession, Daddy stepped back, and Giovanni swept in. It was his trench coat that let him sweep, Green decided. Shame they’d just swept and mopped the day before or it’d really be “sweeping”. Slipping off his fedora Giovanni turned about, looking for a place to put his hat. They didn’t have a hat rack or anything. Hats were stored in your bedroom. Green had two hanging from her bedroom wall, but she wasn't going to offer one of her hat hooks for his dusty old fedora.

So, when Green padded forward and offered her hand, and he passed his hat down to her, it was probably for the best that he didn’t know where she was going to put it. She was waffling between the bathroom, and mop closet.

A screech from outside, the shadow of wings ghosting over the windows, and Green didn’t startle. Not openly. She had Sabrina to thank for that she supposed. Never mind she wanted to set Nido on the old Psychic witch and tell the 'mon to roll over the woman twice for trapping Green in her own mind and reliving her abduction by the Mask’s bird over and over again...

And Giovanni was studying her expression as it happened. That tap of his foot on the floorboards as he'd entered hadn’t been to kick off some dirt before he came in. It was likely a signal and Green decided the dust mop bin was too good for Giovanni’s hat. She’d nip into the bathroom and flush the damned thing.

A shame Mum caught her making a wrong turn and called her out on it. And Green hated that she recognized the look the Rocket was giving her. See, Silver had a funny way of letting his eyes crinkle right before he laughed, and Giovanni was doing the exact same thing.

That, I'm almost laughing, expression hurt.

He didn’t laugh. Only watched as she hung his hat on the kitchen table, and Giovanni nodded, understanding where he stood with her.

“I’m gunna get my phone off the charger. Silver called and left a message last night and some of the background noises were weird.”

It was curious to see a man she thought of in terms of “looming”, and “sneering”, a coagulation of stationary and cruel, perk up at words. And the customary venom, the mocking drawl when he talked down to her was- not gone- but dimmed. He considered her. Seeming to weigh her words for truth with obvious interest, he made some decision she supposed.

“I’d appreciate it.”

“And I’m getting my team.”

A snort, as he shifted his coat just so so she could see the flash of color on his belt. Great balls, likely his Gym Leader Team then. Wonderful. She’d stolen his badge, not earned it, if it got to the level of nasty where ‘mon were drawn it’d be bad. Taking the stairs two at a time she tried to remember if any Oak’s goodie goodie squad had earned the Earth badge honestly.

Maybe Red.

But Red was sulking on some mountain top. He had blocked her number almost as fast as she’d told Blue and Gold where they could shove their “new alliance”. Giovanni wasn’t a litter of newborn meowth, but he was a hell of a lot better than a man who abducted kids out of their homes and shoved them into freezers for giggles.

And fuck apologies. Because Pryce had had the guts to try to do that, seeing both of his favorite pawns wince back from him, eyes wide, denials to his offer obvious.

“I’m sorry” didn’t give her back her parents, or take away their fear, or her fear, or undo the ice damage to her hands, or bring back the kids the Mask had killed. Because there was one freezer in the back, one with a kettle of water kept steaming and he’d dipped one of the kids into it as an example and pulled him out when the masked “failed” kid had started really screaming. Then, as the boy was almost cooked to death, Pryce’d had his piloswine pull the boy out and dropped him. Boiling water froze as it hit the freezer floor, and the boy’d begged and screamed and they’d had to watch until the screaming stopped.

And then the body had been left and whoever failed, however, they failed, was locked in the freezer with that poor dead kid that no one knew the name of.

Will’d called him Brown because even frozen the blood eventually had darkened to a reddish-brown and it’d been the easiest thing to pick out once the ice had really started to build on the body.

“You ever clean out Brown’s freezer cell, Master, ever tell his parent what happened to him? What’d he do, that was so bad that you left him to freeze and rot for five years?”

That'd been Green's last words to Pryce. Silver's had been more direct. A snarled "hail" and they'd both booked it under Sneasel's malice-born snowstorm. Both of them just done with everyone and everything.

Despite Green's challenge, all the Disciples of Mask knew what Brown had done. The older kids whispered it among themselves. Brown had dared hope. He had snapped, taking mission after mission in the same place had made him complacent. He’d approached a police officer and been believed and he’d been building trust and trying to get help.

And there’d been a bit on the news, something about missing children and it’d reached Mahogany and the Master had personally seen to recapturing Brown and… killing him… like that.

The trip up the stairs and to her door was a blank. Green came to in her room, not really sure how she got there.

Alone, and shaking, because remembering Brown always made her shake, she stared blankly at her bed for who knows how long. When she was done crying she took her phone off the nightstand, and her team too. Habit made her swing her trainer’s belt with a flourish, so its holsters looked slightly off-center, fashionably so. Green stole a moment to dab her face, purloining a pillow with a too-long case, then drying done she flipped it over so no one would know she'd cried.

She took the stairs slowly on the way back. Halfway down she was able to see that Giovanni had moved the coffee table and had laid papers, photos, and maps, out. Mum and Da’ were sitting across from him on the couch. They looked at the pictures, expressions sick and shocked, holding each other's hands.

Mum saw her first, and with a furtive glance at Giovanni, pipped up. “Sweetie, let me get your phone and I’ll play the message to Mr. Sakaki, shall I? Then you can go back to your room, and we’ll talk in the morning.”


Ignoring Mum, Green looked at the pictures. One of them, on the corner, with its familiar blotch of red-brown made her smile. Awful as it was, Brown's room was familiar, and there was thin comfort in that.

“You found Brown’s room?”

“Mr. Henderson’s remains were discovered along with the other cells under Mahogany’s Gym last month. As I understand it Pryce is under investigation.”

The realization that there’d been a way out leading straight to Pryce’s gym froze her mid-step.

And she understood Pryce's madness just then.

She could have... if they’d gone out that... if she hadn't gone the sneaky way...

They could have alerted Mahogany’s police. Brought Mask down in days. Because missing children, claiming to be from the gym, with ice burns and ice masks glued to their faces... That wouldn't have been ignored. Someone would have to look into… everything.

But the vents had seemed safer and Green hadn’t wanted to take the time to find another route.

Because Silver’d been sick. And when you got sick, you got locked into Brown’s room until you got better... or not.

“His name was Henderson?”

Green managed to make it to the couch. She settling in on the space between Da’ and the couch's plush arm. Looking at the pictures, and diagrams of the Mask of Ice’s main lair, with open interest, Green could actually trace out her escape path. She followed it with her eyes, once, twice, blinking sharply.

Green didn’t see how Giovanni’s face softened, just a little bit. “Brian Henderson, twelve years old, his family resided in Kalos, he was missing for eight years, his father was a cop, his mother deceased.”

Which explained why Bro- Brian had gone to the cops.

It wasn't her Mum or Da who asked, only the Rocket seemed to have any questions for her.

“Did you know him?”

“He was the first one that tried to run away,” Green whispered, picking up a picture. It wasn’t her cell, or Silver’s, the scorch marks meant it was likely Karen’s. She was the only one with a fire type after all. “They’d lock us up with him when we got sick or were bad. So no one’d ask “or else” when the Mask got really nasty because Brian was “or else”. Dying like he did. We told ourselves stories, about how brave he was, because even though he didn’t get it right, he tried. And if we were brave like him, maybe we could try but not die. Make his dying worth it.”

Da’ had slung an arm about her shoulder, drew her close. Green she was shaking, and she hated herself for it. She hated that Giovanni got to see it. Though, curiously, he was considering the photos rather than her. Going over their glossy fronts as if there was an answer in them.

His selective inattention was almost like privacy.

“Silver was sick,” Giovanni’s head jerked up at that. “Not when he called me.” She promised. “Right before I got us out, he was catching something nasty. And the Mask was going to lock him in Brown-Brian’s room, and not let him out. Mask promised to do that to us, a lot.”

Silence, outside wings cast shadows into the room and she glared at the Rocket bitterly, almost hating Giovanni as much as Mask at that moment. Because Green and birds on a good day were bad, today, now....

Birds were beyond mean. Waving one around Green's home was nearly Mask-like in cruelty.

So, Green could safely say, she hated Giovanni Sakkaki a whole lot.

Almost as much as Silver hated Professor Oak.


And for seeing her anger the Rocket nodded, accepting the unspoken rebuke.

“I believe we all need a moment as this isn’t going to be a simple drop off the photos and leave session that I thought it was.” Giovanni offered, his tone nearly gentle.

“You’re being considerate.” Green managed a wobbly laugh, “No one’s going to believe that.”

“I’ll abstain from any obvious charity,” Giovanni promised, lips quirking, and then he was heading outside to recall his bird, making himself an utter liar. Reaching down, pulling up a few pictures, she smiled, nearly laughed. Silver had gotten Sneasel to scratch out a few swears on the walls, and a few badly mirrored gang signs.

Silver just hadn’t gotten Sneasel to spell anything right.

“Fock” being one shining example.

When Giovanni stepped back in a little later, it was to find Green nestled between both her parents, pointing out the sights. There were a few vents, that were leaky and carried sound in all the wrong places. When Sing had distorted too much to be an effective means of escape, she’d trained Jiggly to sing pop tunes into the vents because Mask hated those. And, those spiky ice lumps, those were from Silver trying to make icicles that’d fall when someone entered through his cell’s front door.

Giovanni cleared his throat and Green looked up, and getting the hint, tossed her phone to him.

“I turned off the password lock for my voicemail for five minutes.”

When the Rocket moved to listen right there she flicked a glare up at him.

“Taking phone calls in the living room is rude.” She quoted Mum, even as Mum made a mortified noise that had tried for being a laugh and failed.

“I think,” Giovanni hummed. “That I’ll take five minutes to fetch my hat and listen to what needs to be listened to. But when I get back, I will have questions.”

“Timers on the corner of the screen. It’s going to auto turn off when it gets to the end. Altered Parental controls. And I set it to start when you left the room.” Green near sang up at him.

And of course, Giovanni had to look down at it and confirm, his glare up her was more heartfelt than his previous malice towards her parents. And between the shadows of wings, that he’d caused to darken her windows, and the disaster at Silph… She held her ground, smiling up at him.

Because she’d be damned before she flinched.

Because he’d brought a bird, so whatever she did in retaliation was more than deserved because he brought a Mew blasted bird to her home.

“I will be back in two minutes.” He warned, all softness gone. “Then we’ll talk.”

Giving him all the attention Giovanni deserved, which was none at all, Green flipped through a few photos. Sorting them in whimsical patterns. Finding another familiar one, she pulled it up, showing it to her parents, her smile tight and twisted.

"This was the mess hall."

The picture was just an empty cavern, roof crushingly close, a pair of iced-down tables, metallic and glinting under its crust of ice. An adult sitting at it would have to crunch down to get around, but then the Mask's soldiers had been children, and not too horribly tall, even now. And though they didn't ask, just looked on in shocked horror, Green carried on like her parents had asked her a question she'd wanted them to ask.

"We'd sit in groups, by height, so me and Silver sat together because we were shortest, and the bigger kids stuffed us in the back. The biggest kids ate first and ate the most. Mask made them start sharing when Silver and me got sick from not eating enough. Passed out in a mission, we were both in Brian's room for half a day for that... Then Karen and Will got put in Brian's room for a week after Mask realized what was going on..."

She kept the chatter going, long enough for Giovanni to listen to Silver's message, and come back. He had lost his coat between leaving and coming back. His gym leader get-up wasn't too different from his Boss outfit, only missing its red "R" and floofy shirt pocket thing. As he settled into the only single chair available, a leather plush monster that Da' watched his league tournaments on, Green tossed the picture down on the pile of them. The coffee table, and all its evidence, stood between him and Green's family. And while Green wished he wasn't there...

He'd needed to be here, so her parents could see this. Had to be there, so Green could actually say what she needed to.

She hated him for that, and he hated her for yanking his chain. But this wasn't about their hatred. The end game was to help Silver, but to help Silver, Giovanni had to help her first.

 

[K_S]

Spoiler: trigger warnings and an

TW for discussed abuse and Italian-specific slurs. Talk of child abuse, and potential for violence.

AN: Edited over the course of late Jan. Smoothed out some clarity issues. Got rid of a lot of the monologuing and tried to break down a rather data-heavy chapter to a more realistic back and forth dialogue segment. Some of this nullifies a bit of the next chapter, but since chapter 4's I've plans to make some weeks in the narrative to make both more cohesive. But be aware this is going to cause a bit of tonal friction until both halves are up to speed.

CHAPTER 3:
The Visit
part 2


Her parents tolerated Green’s revelations in silence, not saying a word until Green, tired of saying all the words, had slipped off to get a drink.

Something warm, to counter the chill of remembering. Something sweet to spite Mask who’d only offered them the blandest of bland foods.

It was one of the lesser evils He’d inflicted on them and Green rebelled against it as often as she could.

Mum cleared her throat, and some paper was slid aside… and a t that quiet act it seemed like Green’s tale was swept away, lost in a babble of boring adult things. Scandals and politics, and Giovanni just went with it.

But then he’d had no obligation to prove anything. Just to bring proof. What Mum and Da did with it was up to them.

“I’ve heard of a curious case in Kanto.” And Mum was talking to Giovanni like he was someone from work. Like Rocket wasn’t a thing… Except for them, because they never listened to her, they didn’t know he was a Rocket boss.

For them, ignorance was bliss and something of a shield.

The bitterness of that thought and the nauseating realization that everything Green said wasn’t going to be commented on made Green reach for the sugar. Not the sugar substitute. The real sugar and the sweetest tea mix they owned. Choice in hand Green fussed in the kitchen, filling a measuring cup and sliding it into the microwave.

“It’s a shame those children were so disturbed that they started leveling such outlandish claims.”

“Not all the claims were false. Considering the Mask of Ice.”

Huh, so he’d thrown her a bone? That was a bit creepy because Giovanni being nice would have been the creepiest thing of all. Wondering at the man’s motives, wondering why the Rocket sounded a bit irritated, well wondering passed the time. With a hop and stab of her fingers, forget the stepladder she just didn’t care right then, Green got the ‘wave on. One beep later and the glass was spinning and warming. Green watched and waited on the ensuing bubbles.

Better to focus on that than the tension in her chest, or the pressure about her shoulders, or the building need to bolt.

“Viridian Corp tried to approach them, let the adults in power field it, but they’ve been resistant to any authority…”

“An odd trait for someone sponsored by… what was his name… some big wig scientist…” Da was snapping his fingers trying to help the idea out. And while Green might have tossed out the name,...

She was busy with bubbles.

A snort, nearly a laugh, and Giovanni answered for him. “A rather unimportant man, really. Despite being the head of his field you have to wonder at a man’s motives, inspiring children to fear the proper authorities.”

Pot calling kettle… please hold.

Green’s smirk was wired in the reflection of the ‘wave. Her whole face was orange and distorted by the light and glass door. That nearly caused a giggle but she daren’t.

With her nerves as high strung she was scared if she started laughing she might not stop.

So she bit her lip instead.

“The whole situation’s a mess.”

And really, Giovanni’s sigh at the end was horridly melodramatic. At least Green knew where Silver got it from now. She'd have to remember to tease Silver next time they talked.

“Speaking of authority.” Da’ piped up. “You never went to the police, why?”

Because being the head of a crime syndicate would put a damper on the victim officer relations.

Considering how close that bit of truth came to being blurted out Green really focused on the bubbles. And low and behold they were merrily bobbing into existence, proving that old saying about pots never boiling wrong. Nice. She pulled open the microwave door, slipped on the arcanine fur oven mitts from the stove over her hands. They were way too big, but with some effort and care, she made it work.

While she poured Giovanni was deflecting for all he was worth.

“I did actually.”

Giovanni’s lies were smooth and soft like a Persian’s fur coat.

“And I was dismissed as delusional.”

Mum muttered something, perhaps some condolences, Green didn’t hear, she just added two handfuls of sugar and fetched a spoon for stirring.

And she stirred, s loud as she could.

All the better not to hear. She should probably be taking some notes but right now Green really really didn’t want to. So she tried not to hear how Giovanni mixed truth and partial truth and outright lie to her folks and they swallowed it whole.

“Those weren’t police photos.” Da’ squeaked, horrid realization realized. ‘but evidence collection without police authority present is illegal.”

“Not in Jhoto it isn’t. I turned copies to the police as evidence.”
And perhaps Da’s squeamishness amused the Rocket because Green could hear the smirk in his wry.

“Certainly, you don’t harbor any delusions of the police being competent considering your own experiences?”

They were going to wonder about where she was if she didn’t come back eventually. She hoped. So she walked back into the room, slow and careful. The hot water should keep her mouth from running.

Hopefully

“So what’s real and what isn't?”

Well maybe not…

Still Green had waited until she was back in her chair before blurting out… whatever that was. Some sort of challenge, maybe. It’d tasted bitter enough to be one.

Settling into her chair, a fluffy thing directly across from the Rocket, a TV between them, it wasn’t picked because of its softness. Nor was it picked because she didn’t want to be with Mum and Da. She’d of loved to be between them and remember what feeling safe felt like.

But safe was a lie, especially closeness meaning safe. The three of them together just meant one big target, and Green wasn’t going to make it that easy for the Rocket.

So Green chose her seat because Giovanni’d need room pull back to draw a ‘mon. His team being gigantic fully evolved ground types. Her team was small (barring Blasty) and didn’t need any more room than the spot on her lap. So Green lingered near, but not too near, and was sorta safe as a result.

Green smiled, holding onto that thought of sorta safe as tight as she was holding onto her cup. Trying not to grimace at how the drink was hurting her hands because she’d left the gloves in the kitchen like a dunce.

And so far no one said anything, not Giovanni, or Mum or Da… and because they hadn’t, well Green flicked her not smile at the Rocket and repeated herself.

She was in a teny tiny bit of a mood.

Had Silver heard her tone he would have bolted. Not wanting to learn any new four-letter words like “folk” and listen to her lose it. Giovanni, despite who he was, was a bit of an innocent. He’d never seen one of Green’s moods.

So let him talk a little and maybe he wouldn’t.

“Green, dear, they’re all under investigation that means none of its proven yet.” Mum was trying to explain things. Like Green didn't know how rules worked.

Rules were stupid when compared to truth. Green’s truth slid out of her mouth, bitterer than the blackest coffee. Even the biggest gulp of her drink couldn’t sweeten her tone or mood.

“Mask was true.” Curling around her cup, reminding herself to go slow, Green did a breathing exercise. To disperse the steam so she wouldn’t burn her tongue.

Never mind the last gulp had scalded going down.

Dark eyes skating over everyone in the room, Giovanni seemed like a man considering options. Or maybe escape routes. Some decision reached the Rocket ran a hand over his short locks and sighed, another bit of melodrama.

Maybe.

The man lied so good it was hard to tell.

“Pryce is wanted for an investigation into the Mask scandal. Legally he’s not guilty until after the trial, but not even the best Celedonian Law Firm could save him from what’s been dug up.” A hand waved over the papers, illegally gotten perhaps, but turned in and being taken seriously. Where Giovanni might get a fine for hiring an illegal source what he’d dug up would insure that Mask would likely get life in a cell.

Green hoped it was a freezer without windows, that’d suit her just fine.

“As for what happens to him, well that will be sorted out when he’s caught.”

The tightness about Giovanni’s face, never mind the blasé tones, told Green tales and reminded her of Silph. If Giovanni caught Mask there wouldn’t be anything for the police to identify as a human body. Mask’s precious ‘mon would likely be the only identifiable bits of meat on the scene.

Mum and Da looked worried, Mum gestured for her to come… but Green didn’t. It was Giovanni’s turn to talk and he’d talk, it was part of their deal after all.

And Mask was only one of the things Mum and Da hadn’t believed. She’d had a list, and she’d given it to him, and he was going down it, line by line.

Because if he didn’t, well she wouldn’t help him, willingly. She’d warn Silver off. She knew that and more importantly he knew that.

“Lance and the elite four are under investigation for negligence and for being sighted around the epic center of the “Laser incident”, that nearly set a region aflame…”

Mum stiffened, recognizing Green’s words then. The news hadn’t called it anything, the “incident” being so hush hush that only the League and Interpol knew and no one had spilled anything to the news.

At least not yet.

But maybe that’d changed.

Giovanni explained how a girl, Yellow, had gone through Viridian co’s legal team for justice…

And it seemed almost a promise that something was going to happen now.

Still if Mum was remembering right, she’d be remembering that Green had talked about this before. Talked about Yellow and Silver. And that Green and Silver had talked about the “laser thingie” over dinner one night, settling on “incident” since “thingie” had sounded wrong.

Giovanni using the same name hadn’t been missed.

And Da was looking worried, maybe a bit scared as Giovanni rounded the bit of “news” off…

“As for the Silph rumors. They aren’t wholly. Team Rocket is still at large and none of the instigators of the hostage situation have been found. Though Blue Oak is facing some very stiff slander charges due to his… baseless accusations.”

As if she was dumb enough to start saying any names or chime in over Mum and Da’s comments. Because this hadn’t all been monologue, they’d had questions and Giovanni answered, but those questions, that adult back and forth, really wasn’t the point.

Still, that last been had been a warning. A threat. And because she was in a mood she rolled her eyes at him. Her sass hid her wince. Blue and Red must be going mad back in Kanto. Red was the worst, he’d likely be foaming at the mouth since Giovanni was his “greatest foe” or some such rot…

For the “good guy” to be held back by the laws he supposedly fought against Team Rocket to uphold… Green almost felt sorry for the older trainer, almost.

“Did you know Red and Gold thought me and Silver were part of Team Rocket?”

“Clearly delusional.” Giovanni huffed, his anger lost to amusement. The Rocket started to sweep up photos sliding them into a brown envelope that he had tucked to his side. Clearly he was done and technically he’d gone over everything…

And Mum and Da' seemed relieved to see the photos going away. Something in Green’s chest went tight at the proof of what had really happened being packed up like it was nothing.

Her mouth slid open and it was a shock to even her what slid out.

“Can I… Can I have one… one of the pictures?”

“I borrowed them from my private investigator.” Giovanni’s words were stilted, the no obvious first syllable in. “Why would you-“

“Can I have Silver’s room then?”

He looked confused. Which was fair. He’d been out when she listed the rooms, and she’d been mean and shared that bit of Silver with her parents and not him. Her meanness was biting her in the ass now. She explained, though her chest grew tighter and tighter with each word.

“It’s the one with the scratches, and I know it’s stupid but… it used to be the first thing I’d see every morning. And not seeing it…” and him, “It just feels wrong.”

His dark brows drew together and she focused hard on breathing and blinking as fast as she could. Because she was not going to cry again. She wasn’t.

“Please?”

That didn’t mean she wouldn’t beg though.

Papers tucked away, Giovanni set them on the table. Covered, closed, and that felt like a no and the tightness in her chest grew until breathing hurt. Curiously the Rocket glanced at her parents, who were sitting, frozen. Maybe he was glaring, maybe that’s why they were still. Green didn't look up to check. She just stared at the folder, feeling small and stupid.

A moment passed, two, she heard him get up, then he was pacing around the couch, not carrying the pictures, and he stood before her. Then went from standing to kneeling, so she could look into his eyes without getting a crick in her neck.

“I don’t think that would be very… healthy.”

Why couldn’t he just say no like anyone else? Then she’d know she’d have to steal what she wanted.

“Just until he gets back to his real room. Then I could replace it… with a picture of that?”

It was curious to see the shift of his features. From distant and hostile to nearly humane. She’d never doubted his humanity like Red and Gold did. He never was a monster. Just a man, capable of being like the things Red and Blue called him. So seeing that softer side, the concern and gentleness, was a curiosity rather than a shock.

And maybe blackmail material later if she had to.

“Not tonight.” He ruled.

Green changed that "maybe" to a definitely and the "had to" to a because she felt like it.

“But I’ll make you a copy and bring it around in the next day or so, alright?”

She nodded, swiping at her stinging eyes as he stood.

“Finish your drink little girl.” The last was definitely delivered in Boss tones.

Ung, he was such a jerk.

Taking a sip Green considered the Rocket and shifted definitely to “next week” and she’d find a way to blame it on Silver on it. Silver tended to be sloppy when he rushed so it wouldn't be that hard.

“I suppose…” And Giovanni was indulging a slow walk as he returned to his side of the table, picking up the envelope in his gloved hands, he ran a thumb over the edge, dark eyes distant. After a moment he focused on Green’s parents, expression twisted into something Green couldn’t read. “You were wondering why I would spend my valuable time to… assuage your concerns about your daughter’s tale bearing and discuss this…” The folder was held in one hand, tapped against the other, “international incident with you. I’d like to make an offer, for you and your daughter, similar to the one I made with Yellow Amarilla.”

“And that would be?” Mum asked, lips a thin tight line part tension part distaste.

“Employment. I will pay handsomely for any information leading me to Silver, and any information pertaining to the Mask of Ice’s history, possible plans, location...”

“That he’s crazy? Because I’ll write that down if you pay me fifty.”

“Something of more depth, and no I won’t pay for that bit of obvious…”

Green stuck her tongue at him and Giovanni... tolerated it. Perhaps to show his “goodwill” or whatever. Curling around her cup Green considered more immediate plots while Mum and Da near strangled at the idea of her working.

“She’s a minor.” Da sputtered.

“She’s a trainer, and for those partially emancipated youths who show the proper efforts in league wins… as in badges…” He clarified, tabbing on the last with a grimace. Seeing her parent’s lost looks he clarified. “She has more legal freedom than most minors because she’s… wormed her way up to the vol- the seventh badge. There are eight in total.”

“With her team of… with little Nido and Dittle…” Da’s protest was getting a bit shrill, perhaps not really getting that the creature’s Green slipped nibbles off of her plate for, sliding the snack under the dinner table, could win anything.

“Ditty.” Green groaned the correction.

Not that anyone heard her, because Mum was already shaking her head.

“Absolutely not.”

Giovanni was not a man you said no to. Not as a Rocket Boss, or as a Gym Leader. He stiffened, grit his teeth, you could hear the griding on the edges of his continued assurances.

She’d be in no danger (maybe a lie) it’d all be very hands-off (lie, or it better be or Green’d quit) and none of it mattered against the staunch no from Green’s parents.

“Why not approach any of the other older kids? This... Karen and Will… they’re adults, or nearly.” Da' protested.

“They killed the officer who tried to coax them back to civilization. I suspect they’re brainwashed to an irretrievable level at this point and I’m unwilling to waste lives to find out.”

Also considering Will and Karen had disrupted a number of Rocket operations under Mask’s orders… Green finished her drink with a grimace. The last dredges were sludge and sickeningly sweet.

“Any of the others.” Mum chimed in, even as Da' went pale, swearing softly.

Because murder was upsetting and Da could be easily upset sometimes. More than Mum, even. He cried at movies for Mews sake.

Speaking of Mum, Green groaned at her because she was just going on and on and not caring how pissed Giovanni was. Which was really stupid. Setting her cup aside, just in case she had to get up fast, Green shifted so she could get anyone off her belt fast.

Because Giovanni looked Silph mad, like right before the building fell down level of mad.

“You think I haven’t checked every avenue, every angle? That if there were any other recourse…” The Rocket drew a deep breath, seemed to be reminding himself of something. Maybe not to say too much. “I’ve ripped apart regions. Those few children I suspect might be survivors of Mask‘s insanity are either feral or were spirited away by the government. Green’s the only one who wasn’t.”

“I don’t believe a man of your resources couldn’t find any other-“

“If you think I’d not spend any resource-“ A sharp gesture cut off Da’s whatever he was going to say. Giovanni whipped his head towards Mum, lips peeled back in a snarl. “Mrs. Azule, be aware, you are walking on thin ice right now. You’ve no idea what I can and will do to make sure my son is safe and returned to me and his abductor… punished.”

“Well, you can consider my daughter permanently unavailable, Mr. Sakaki.” Mum grit, standing, tired of the Rocket’s looming. “And show yourself out, right now. Neither she nor anyone in this family will be assisting you. Despite your… finances.”

The last was near spat. And what followed was sickeningly sweet and acidic all at once.

“Perhaps if you used your resources to help rehabilitate those poor brainwashed children you thought were irretrievable you’ll get your answers, but my little girl will not be assisting you, for anything.”

Face going pale, and scarily still, Giovanni looked ready to lose it.

Forget his anger at Silph, this was the look on his face he’d had when he walked across a spider web to try to off Lance for torching a region. She’d seen it again in those frantic last moments when Lance had called three dragons to pull Giovanni off of Pryce.

Three Dragonites to be exact. Three scary, over-leveled dragons had barely kept Giovanni from snapping Pryce’s neck. And all Green had was Jiggly, and Nido and…

Oh Mew, Green knew it was going to go bad.

Mom was standing and Da was on his feet, and someone mentioned the police. Green wasn’t sure who. Her brain was replaying the obvious in her head at a scream

Giovanni could kill them.

And like a scene from a nightmare, save it wasn’t a nightmare, it was a reality Green hadn’t thought possible, Giovanni was getting up, hand moving a bit down and to the right…

And heart beating so hard it’d surely break something in her chest Green hopped to her feet and shrieked.

“They won’t help!”

Well, that shut them all up. Startling them all to sanity it seemed. Having her parents and the Boss of Team Rocket just stare at her was weird, and Green stood there, under all that attention, and trembled.

She wanted to be done and gone. And she was angry, at them and herself for being stupid.

And for the further stupidity that was going to come, because she knew adults, and they wouldn't let her be done. Adults needed their reasons and logic and evidence, she was going to have to say more now.

Ung.

This was so stupid, she was so stupid…

But stupid wasn’t going to get her out of talking.

“Mask said something about Sil’ being Italian and Will and Karen started calling him “Guido” and “Goombah” and other stuff that we didn’t know was bad until one mission when someone called a Rocket one of Will’s words and the Rocket...”

It hadn’t been the first murder she’d seen but she left it hanging, let them figure out whatever they wanted.

“They started calling me things too. Saying I was his “Italian cunt”. We hated each other. We called each other names and stole each other’s food and fought with ice knives because that’s what we did. Hate was easier.”

Softer now, a whisper.

“So, no. None of the kids, feral or government or whatever…” She waved a hand at Mum and Da and Giovanni. “None of them are going to help. Ever. No one helps anyone. No one was going to help us get out. And I wouldn’t help them. Except it’s for Silver, I’ll help for Silver.”

Then she was done, and flopping back into her chair. Utterly spent.

Giovanni ran a hand over his face, breathing oddly a bit before reholstering one of his pokeballs. Because things had gotten that close.

Giovanni sank down into his chair, and Mum and Da'… Well, they didn’t sit.

Da' was babbling, about how helping others was how things were supposed to work. That in the real world…

Well, his expected real world. Green toned Da out with a tired sort of fondness, letting her eyes slide shut. They wanted her, they could shake her awake. And she’d make Jiggly sing them all to sleep if anyone rose their voice even a little.

Then Ma’s voice chimed in. With a question that was sane, that made sense, so Green lifted her head to hear better.

“What made Silver so different?”

Green remembered.

Mum and Da wanted more kids. They spoke to her about it before the abduction. Using simple words because Green’d been silly young back then. They’d tried to teach little her what having more kids would be like. And she’d been so disappointed to learn she couldn’t pick a gender because that was an adult thing, Arceus’ will and all that. So maybe she’d get a brother or a sister, but whatever they got that new person would be small. And she could hear Mum’s voice from way back as if she were saying it right now: Dearest, you have to be careful with the smallest of people….

“Silver was small. So small… And he’d lose everything like that.” Green snapped her fingers. “And the Mask didn’t like that… so.. I… after the first time when Silver went in Brown’s room and came out all scared… He didn’t mean to lose the next thing… but he did. So I told Mask I was supposed to be carrying it...” Green drew a deep breath, straightening out of her flop a little to better see the adults and their reactions. She might as well not bothered, they were all so still and pale and not giving any tells. “So Mask put me in Brown’s room for two days.”

Without food, but that was a norm and she didn’t want anyone more upset so she didn’t mention that.

“Silver got better, stopped losing things all the time, so it wasn’t hard to not hate Silver. Because he was trying so hard… and he was so small… and he wasn’t mean like the other boys and girls in our cell.”

And Silver, kind, dorky, Silver who’d forget his own shadow if he could hadn’t forgotten her playing dumb and false losing things to cover for him.

Figured.

Near choking on rage, Giovanni managed to grunt out a civil. “I never did thank you for keeping my son safe though the hell Pryce put you through.”

“Well, you’re rude.” Green excused him, ignoring Mum’s gasp. “And Silver’s sorta like that too. So I’m used to rude Viridians… But if you want to say “thank you” and “sorry” properly… you could…saaaay give me Viridian Co’ and your shares of Silph?”

And Giovanni’s eyes were crinkling even as his lips were clamping down into a thin tight line. Just like Silver looked right before he lost a bout to being tickled. Huh, a hysterical Rocket,m the sight almost made up for the effort of sitting up.

“No.” The Rocket’s voice was crackling it was so tight. “I am not giving all of Johtos’ economic giants to a minor.”

Hypocrite, taking Mum and Da’s same argument and using it as his own, figured. Twirling a lock of hair in her fingers Green hummed.

“But Silver’d inherit it if you were offed and he’s younger than me.”

It was only fair to point out how unfair Giovanni was being, and funny enough the man looked calmer. As if her sass was reminding him not to be so angry. That sylph wasn’t falling that Lance and Pryce weren’t a room away to be throttled. Maybe he was thinking that going along with this would score him points with her Mum and Da.

It wasn’t like he’d be amused or anything normal.

She was just glad the screaming was done. She didn’t really care about reasons, she just wanted them all gone and to go to bed.

“Green Azule apologize!” Da’ barked.

Because right now manners were the more important thing of all. Well, Silver’s bit of black humor had freaked Mum and Da out too. So it wasn’t a surprise Green’s little lapse was getting her disapproval. Green guessed she was due three weeks of grounding from Da’s tone.

Maybe four.

Oh well, the after-school swim meet was boring anyways.

“I’ve no plans on being offed, young lady.”

“Alright, I get it, I’m sorry.” And Mum and Da relaxed, “I’m asking too much. How about I work with you to find Silver, at a million per day, and I get the pick of your ‘mon stables to balance my team?”

Because Oak had locked her box and what she had was what she could carry. Having a PC back would be nice. And Silver was worse off than that, only keeping who he could easily feed. But they could split the choicest ‘mon and really take the league by storm. Kanto didn’t have a double’s league. They could change that. And it’d be fun.

Silver, feral as he was, liked traveling and sharing. So doubles anything would make him happy. They could travel through a region for reasons besides “avoid Team Rocket”, and the region’s professor sponsored Goodie Goodie Dexholder squad, and Oak… and, maybe, the police?

Did she still have a police record?

Thinking it over a bit Green huffed, maybe they should start a double’s league in Unova… less mad people there and no Team Rocket. Yeah, doubles league in Unova, sounded like a good idea.

“How about, no.”

Ung, he was such a wet blanket. Before Green could think of a good comeback, Mum was there. Pulling her out of the chair by her arm. And under her Mum’s hold Green twitched as old impulses to draw a knife and swing were barely held back. Luckily Mum pulled her up and let go quick enough that not going for a knife was easy. Whining, because that hurt, and ouch, Green was up, and sulky… While Mum…

“My Arceus, she’s normally not like this, Green, apologize to Mr. Sakaki right now and go to your room!”

When she opened her mouth to spit out a route “I’m sorry, for reals” spiel Giovanni lifted a hand.

“While some of your opinions are crass… I appreciate you telling me the truth about Mask, and I promise you everything you’ve told me right now will help.”

Whether that was to find Silver or track down the Mask Green wasn’t sure, but either was fine by her.

Moving slowly so Green could see each motion, Giovanni pulled something small and square, business cards, from an inner vest pocket. Three to be exact. He offered two, one for Mum, and one for Green. The last was likely for Da’.

“My personal line, and all the variations just in case. While I understand you won’t be hired… I would appreciate it if you keep a line to me open if Silver were to say… visit?”

And it was almost begging, the man’s tones. That soft desperation made Mum take a card. She was a bit shocked because she didn’t stop Green from snapping one of the papers for herself. Just nodded along, like Giovanni was asking them to keep him in mind.

He wasn’t, Mew and all the Legends help them if Silver did come back and they not say a thing.

“I trust that this privilege will not be abused.”

And there was a hint of threat, enough of one Mum paled at least. Green just rolled her eyes up at the Rocket. Silver, visit, Celebie’d have to heal Giovanni from old age twice before that became a thing. And it’d only be a thing if Silver got confused and visited by accident as a little old man.

Not that Green was going to say that. And luckily Mum didn’t say anything either.

“Since there’s not a monogamous phone tower system for all the regions I had to get one phone for each territory and a different number. My apologies for the inconvenience that this causes but since it’s considered unethical to have a monopoly across regions….”

Boohoo, money he couldn’t have, cry Green a river. Though some of these numbers were long… and from places, she hadn’t even heard of… Konikoni? Clearly a typo, or a Persian walking along the keyboard sort of name.

Green pocketed the little tab, shook her aching arm, and asked, “Do you want me to give Silver these numbers?”

“If he’ll take them, yes.” Giovanni looked vulnerable, was the emotion real or not, Green wasn’t sure. Though Mum having not called the police or Da not trying to throw the Rocket out meant that at least two saps were falling for the bait.

This was making Green remember her tea, all sludge and sweet, the sweetest grimmer ever, and her stomach roiled at the thought.

“I want it framed, pretty, like a special picture in the movies. My copy of Silver’s room.”

Lips quirking, softness tucked away, Giovanni stepped back, sliding his hands into his pockets. Enough room for him to draw any of his team. But he didn’t seem mad enough to be thinking about it. He’d won, gotten his story and number out, and maybe even Green’s folk’s sympathy. He’d turned no to a maybe. Not out loud, but Mum and Da’s hesitance made it more likely they might help…

Which was better than it’d been.

And in that quiet moment, when nothing happened Green remembered the bird, Giovanni's bird darkening her family's windows, and decided, why not?

“A golden frame.” Green grit out, because she was still bitter about birds, and Giovanni knew about it and her reasons. So it was his fault and he deserved her getting greedy on him.

“How about something visually appealing but highly flammable, so when it’s time to get rid of it comes around you can give the damned picture a proper send-off? I’ll leave some hollows in the frame so you can slip in sparklers and it’ll be the prettiest burning you ever could imagine.”

Sounded good to Green. Though she was half a mind to step on his foot, his tone was beyond patronizing right now. Caution stopped her, and the fact that she had his personal number. She could send him things, so many things, and he daren’t block her. Just in case Silver ever used her to call him.

So she’d give him his later.

“I’ll send the proper picture, when things are all said in done, in a gaudy antique frame from my familiglia collection. Fair?”

He’d offered her his hand, to shake, but Mum put a hand on Green’s shoulder, pulled her back

“Bed, now.”

With a shrug that might have been apologetic, Green went up the stairs. A glance over her shoulder showed Mum had planted herself and her glare warned that Green wasn’t to linger, not a second. And not to say a word.

“I believe I mentioned that my daughter was not to do any… business… with you Mr. Sakaki.”

“I’ve no problems being the delivery pidgy between my son and your daughter for small trinkets. Pictures between friends, holiday gifts, whatnot. Certainly, when you were their age your folks did such for your long-distance friends?”

“We aren’t quite done… hammering things out… And I’m not sure I want your son having my daughter’s telephone number…”

Green froze mid-step at that.

Hearing the lack of steps, Mum turned away from Giovanni, glared up at Green, “Bedroom, now. We will talk later young lady.”

That sounded a bit like four years, not four weeks, of grounding. With a wince, Green left the adults to it. Jiggly’s pokeball held tight in hand, and the second she was at her door she summoned the fluff ball and kept the door open a crack. Earwigging for all she was worth, just in case things got bad.

And they did get bad. There was more screaming, and words that she never wanted to hear, and slammed doors, and an overturned table before everything was said and done.

There were ugly ugly accusations thrown about, the type that played in nightmares. That would play in hers perhaps tonight.

She slipped out of her room during the loudest of the fight, watching over the living room from the stairwell. And it had ended. Not well. But her folks were safe at the end.

And Giovanni was gone.

But not before the police were called, and threats had been made and…

And everything had gone south to a distortion world in a handbasket.

Still, for now, everyone was safe. So Green sprawled staryu position on her bed, and focused on breathing. Because she wasn’t going to cry, she wasn’t.

And she didn't though it was hard, so hard not to.

 

[K_S]

She’d found out about Giovanni’s next power play by accident. Flipping through the newspaper she was skimming the articles at random. Because she was bored, being grounded was boring, and she was only able to read her school books and newspapers for three weeks.


So she’d found a way to twist it. Randomness and looking for Silver made it kinda fun. She hadn’t told her parents what she was doing; least they take the papers away. Mum and Da had said it wasn’t her job, she wasn’t taking the job, and they told Giovanni too.


And when Giovanni had gotten frustrated they told the Boss of Team Rocket to get out.


It’d been the bravest, and stupidest, thing they’d ever done to keep her safe. Never mind she wasn’t in any danger. She had heard him, protesting, leveling ugly accusations that Green tried not to hear…


“He was here, and he left. I could have had him back if you hadn’t driven him off with your delusions and succoring the diseased belief that “nothing happened”. That children just disappear and come back a few years later. You were content to run and hide from the Legend that took your child. Never looking, never challenging those who barred you from looking…”


“And the fact you weren’t available to pick him up, immediately, when Green brought him here, why was that? What made him run from you? What made our daughter refuse to tell us about you?”


And Giovanni was a smart old Viridian Fat Cat, he didn’t answer anything damning, just went for the verbal jugular.


“If she had, would you have listened?”


A chair scraped. The Rocket probably standing, looming, his voice was like Silph before a building’s fall. Clipped and weighted, cruel and cutting.


“She told you EVERYTHING and you believed NOTHING. She had to make a compromise no child ever should have. She killed the truth for her needs to be met. To keep clothes on her back, and food in her mouth she buried her trauma, and when Silver couldn’t you told him to get over it. You punished him when he couldn’t. She went with your lies so you’d keep loving her. So,” he drew in a breath, hissing he was so furious. “Considering that, what right have you to chide me for being… unavailable? I thought my son dead and was trying to pick up the pieces of his murder and perhaps get the truth of what happened to him before he died. You knew before I did that your child was alive, and instead of just picking her up, because I know she called you before things went to hell at Illex, you let her wander. How many months did she wander about the Regions? How long did you wait for her to bring herself home?”


And, oh Arceus, Da’ was so stupid.


Brave, yes, but so so stupid… Because he was, verbally mind, fighting back. Demanding to know how Giovanni knew. And how they (Mum and Da’) hadn’t known, and they weren’t powerful and rich like he was so they couldn’t do half of what he’d done and…


And Green’d rolled out of bed, summoning Jiggly. She was so glad she’d oiled the hinges killing the little squeak that’d warned of her coming out. Slipping down the stairs, the pink puffball at her feet, Jiggly was humming softly in preparation to burst out into song at Green’s command. Slinking around the banister, starting her descent, she was low enough to see most of the living room, could see all the adults... Except Mum wasn’t there. Before Green could panic Mum came back. Stepping out of the kitchen, one hand fisted.


The other holding a phone that was lit and against her ear.


“I’ve got the police on the line and if you don’t leave right now-.”


“This isn’t done.” Giovanni snarled, slamming the door.


Thunder of wingbeats and avian screams were raised from outside. Throatier and raspier than Silver’s Murk’ but familiar enough in tenor to make Green guess it was a Honchcrow. Figured Giovanni’s stupid bird had to match his stupid coat. But those were thoughts for a calmer time. At the moment Green was crunched against the banister, just trying to breathe, looking out at every window she could see at once without moving. Because right then, windows were bad. Da’ wandered about, righting the knocked-over chair, pushing the coffee table back in place. As if returning what Giovanni displaced would make his words disappear all the faster.


Then Mum’s voice rose, she was talking to someone on the phone.


“He left. No, I can’t check for a license plate. He flew off on.. on some sort of big bird. It wasn’t a pidgy that’s all I can tell you…” Turning to the window, not scared of windows at all, Mum looked out. Considering something she was told. “No there are no feathers and he landed it on the cement of our driveway. No, no tracks. He claimed his name was Giovanni Sakaki and left a card… can I turn it into evidence in the morn-? Oh, you’ll send an agent to pick them up? That’d be wonderful. I don’t feel safe leaving my child alone after all this.”


Closing the blinds, Mum walked away, wandering a bit deeper into the kitchen and out of Green’s sight. Sill her voice carried well enough.


”Can an officer be stationed to keep an eye on our residence? He’s obviously not Viridian’s Gym leader, acting as boorish as all that, so someone should let Mr. Sakaki’s office know that some delusional Guido is impersonating him.”


And Green winced, because if she had money she’d of wager that the “officer” who would be by to collect evidence was a Rocket. And the operator was likely one too. And the Rocket who’d lost it had responded to the word that Mum just used.


“I don’t know, the whole thing sounded like a Rocket scam… But it’s the craziest I’ve ever heard of… Can I make a full statement with the officer who is coming please? I’d rather not disclose this over the phone… and I’ll need a written copy of the incident so I can file a restraining-“


Jiggly bumped into her side, still humming, looking up at her with large blue eyes. To that mute offer, Green ran her hand over the puff ball’s curly-cue. It took effort, and a lot of hugging Jiggly, to uncurl, but Green did. Patting her ‘mon on the head before slowly getting up and making her way back into her room. Once there she flopped on her bed, Jiggly snuggled against one side, phone taken up in hand.


Quietly typing the numbers in, and giving them innocent titles, like K’pizza place for Konikoni, the others became the first two letters of the region, and the first letter of the town, to serve as abbreviations for a “friends from school” group list she set up.


If Mum and Da’ ever checked her history they’d be happy she was reaching out more.


And that thought nearly set her off with crying all over again, but she didn’t, wouldn’t.


So she pulled up a dancing ‘mon app and started looking at dancing Beedrills.


Bees dancing to the macarena, it was an old song, so Giovanni likely knew it, and the bees were keeping beat by tapping their blades together. Combee buzzing in on the high notes that the more baritone Beedrills couldn’t hit. And the gif flashed, and sparkled like the whole of them were in glitter, the joys of filters…. It was irritating on every level.


Perfect.


Saving her find Green put her phone to sleep mode, and Jiggly, seeing the screen time was done, settled on Green’s belly, vibrating with glee at the snuggles that turned into squeaks as the ‘mon was tossed up and down with a bit of a spin to it to make it fun.


Play done, Green was teasing Jiggly’s cue of fur, figuring what ribbon’d look best when a knock on the door made Green look up.


It was Mum.


She wanted “to talk”.


Well more like dictate, Green just had to nod a lot.


In the end, it was “decided” that “Giovanni” (who really wasn’t Giovanni? Even though Green’d identified him as such? The stretch that took gave Green a headache and made it look like she was seriously absorbing what Mum was saying, so all the better?) was all empty words from a hurt man who clearly needed help.


But it wasn’t happening, “Giovanni” who wasn’t Giovanni but was, was not getting to spend any time with her. Because he was clearly very sick and so Green didn’t need to worry about anything. The scary man in black wasn’t coming back.


Then Mum took her phone, because even though “it wasn’t Giovanni” she’d been very rude, and was grounded, for three weeks for picking on a mentally ill man.


So from the next day on it was just school to straight home, no talking to anyone. There was no training at the beach after school, though she could walk Nido’ because Nido’ would get out of her ball and walk herself if Green didn’t. Straight to homework, dinner, then chores. And if there was any free time after, she could look at the newspapers.


While Silver rarely did anything newspaper worthy recently he might again. So Green had plans to clip each and every article and pin it on cork board and mail it to him when he had a room to hang it up in. She had two Silver sightings squirreled away, and during her “homework time,” she pulled out of their packing and dusted off and settled them among the permanent reference papers. Because, though twisted it was, Giovanni, stepping in offered a bit of hope that Silver would be found. Soon. So better to have them on hand. She looked at them when she went through the newspapers looking for a lucky third to make her duo a trio, smiling at them because one of them had a picture. It was a bad picture, but she didn't have her phone so couldn’t look at Silver’s contact picture at the moment.


What she found was really tame. One story about a mysterious iced-out theater. Where Sneasel’d likely woken up badly and made it hail. That she knew was him despite the writer’s vagueness because that was the article with a picture. Grainy as heck, but with a hunched-over figure on an oversized trench coat leading a Sneasel out by the paw. His redhead –despite his adverted face how many redheads were there with Sneasal’s in Johto and Kanto?- was a dead giveaway. The second near and dear to her heart, was a more recent periodical. A warning issued by the Johto league, Illex sector, warning of a trainer with an ice type who was battling and winning nearly every fight. Noted to be deliberately picking fights with trainers that seemed “well off” and the paragraphs boiled down to a warning for the rich fat meowths on that leg of their journey to be “very careful” and “limit how much you wager”.


Because someone had tried to not pay Silver, and the sore loser had gotten a black eye and lost wallet for it. Green smiled at it proudly, and smug because it was something she knew that Giovanni didn’t.


She’d toyed with sending that one to Giovanni or mentioning any of the articles. But in the end, she hadn’t. He’d left before she thought of it actually. Then Green didn’t have her phone after… and… it just didn’t seem important right now.


Anyways it was hers, and with luck, she’d find more. She might send Giovanni pictures of the articles, she ruled, flipping a page. Blurry ones at first that were illegible, “by accident” then the real ones after “apologizing”.


But Green’d only yank his chain after he’d calmed down a bit.


How long did it take angry adults to calm down? Well, he had three weeks of not hearing anything from her as things stood. Hopefully, that’d be long enough.


Mew, she hoped Silver didn’t call. He’d freak if she didn’t pick up.


Waffling between “accidentally” finding her phone (it was hidden under Mum’s and Da’s mattress, she’d heard Da complaining about it) to check if Silver called, Green flipped a few pages, not really reading anything. Then stopped.


Because wasn’t that Da’s company name on page three, business section?


A quick read over and she laughed, and Da’ was close enough to hear it because he was rapping on her door. Less worried and more irritated.


“I know I took the funnies out. Do I need to come in?”


“No Da’ just a typo.” Green chirped. “A bad one.”


Da really wasn’t going to like going to work tomorrow. Or likely ever again.


“Viridian Co’ acquires its first foothold in Sevii market?” Read the title.


She skipped the article because it wasn’t really that important. What got her attention was the photo underneath. Small, not grainy, and it showed Giovanni shaking hands with a rather star-struck president of “Rotum chips and bolts”. Da’s bosses bosses boss was shaking hands with the Boss of Team Rocket, page three, though they kept calling him Viridian Co’s President.


Was he called Mr. President at his job? His legal one anyway? The article called him that twice. And if so how’d he get his head through the sliding doors at Silph anyway?


No wonder he had Rhyhorn plow a bigger entrance for him during the takeover.


Sniggering, despite chewing her lip so she wouldn’t laugh, Green cleared her throat, tone shot, but oh well, she tried.


“Are you going to work tomorrow, Da’?”


“Not unless you need me to stay home sweetie.”


Setting aside the reading, with a smile, Green figured she should stop putting off her homework. She hated math, but she’d been reading papers to put it off and she should stop. And she could hide the article in her book as a bookmark. She did so and the door slipped open just as she spread her worksheets before her.


Ung, she hated math.


“I’m good, you didn’t have to come in.” Tipping her head back she smiled at Da’. Not really feeling bad for him at all, for whatever tomorrow brought. “Thanks though. When’s dinner?”


“Thirty minutes last I checked, need any help?”


“Check it after I’m done?” Green wheedled.


“Of course sweetie, I’ll let you wrap up and we’ll go over it later after dinner.”


And with a ruffle of her hair, he left her to it.

 

[K_S]

AN: RD. Obviously. Written because Gio can be an utter jerk when he wants to be. And right now he wants to be. I'm probably going to change Green's parent's names but for now, think of the preset names as placeholders until I can think of something to put in.

Frank Azule hated it when corporate did their rounds. Having to sit and listen while his supervisor drew close, voice pitched high and loud, it was an unspoken warning that any seen doing anything but vigorous typing would be drawn and quartered the second the big wigs departed…

No pressure, none at all.

Closing his emails Frank flipped open some pages of code and pointedly hunched and tipped his chair so he’d looked utterly engrossed in his work. He opened a window under the page he was working, so his typing wouldn’t actually affect anything important on the screen, set it to slowly scroll up and down at random, and got to “work”. The code in front of him really needed about five minutes of touch-up before it got passed up; he’d planned it this way. He meant to make today an email day, turn down the overtime, and pick up Green after school. She was in trouble, yes, but still, she shouldn’t be alone.

Not with that creep possibly lurking around town with his crazy talk about a Mask of Ice, and those obviously doctored photos…

But bloody corporate just had to make a hoopla and show off his department… Mew blast it, he’d wait for the Boss and his Corporate attachment to get out and ask his cubical mate if he’d take his hours. Perhaps he could sweeten the pot by giving Harold some credit for the code he was turning in.

Consultation partner or hands-on assist, because if it was the latter Frank was going to have to alter some logs to make that story stick and accept a pay cut on his commission when all the paperwork was squared away.

“And this is IT, Mr. President Sakaki, Sir, where all the security happens! Think of it like… Ummm how do they phrase it in the league? It’s like our “glass wall”? Like your Rhydon. Big, all-encompassing, and meant to take hits. IT makes things to take the hits so the company, and of course our clients, and the goods, don’t have to worry…”

…Sakaki?

Shock ran down Frank’s back. He jolted from sitting to standing, popping out of his seat like a watchhog popping out of its den, scenting some predator. Eyes wide, short brown hair frizzled because it’d been one of those days, he gawped at… at his Boss and Corporate. It was the fifth “immediate supervisor” he’d had this year, and Frank hadn’t bothered to learn the man’s name. And it seemed rather pointless now, because by the look on… on Sakaki, on the man Green called Giovanni, on the man who his Boss had indicated was somehow the president for his company… Well, his immediate super’ wasn’t going to be around for much longer. Frank could see the discharge forms being penned in the black of Giovanni’s eyes.

The President had been a different man. Frank’d been at a brunch with corporate for “outstanding performance” just last month and shook “Bolt’s” president’s hand in one of those agonizingly awkward meet and greets…..

Suffice to say the President’s name wasn’t Sakaki, Frank would have sworn it was Ceadersworth, Sindersworth.. Something like that. And that’d been his president, as of yesterday.

Today it seemed like it was Sakaki, and that was insane.

His president had a normal name. Because most of the names on Sevii were easy to pronounce, the ancestry so Anglo Saxon that there were five Smiths on this floor alone.

“Ah.” His Boss, not the new president, was shooting him daggers, though he was smiling. Frank was going to be written up for sure. “One of our techies seems to be a fan. Do you follow the league…” Blue eyes scrolled over his shirt front pointedly. No one wore their name tags, it’d been taken out of the rulebook years ago and his superior was going to make it a point to slap him down like the small man he was.

Bracing himself, Frank twisted his face from stupefaction to something like friendly.

“Frank. And… my daughter… wa- is a fan? I hear a bit.” He introduced himself and answered his Boss in the hearing of the deranged, delusional… President of Viridian and his company. Oh Arceus, how was this his life?

He sweated enough to be stewed in his drippings while trying not to puke. It was quite a physical feat. Lips quirking, Giovanni’s gaze lingered on him, noting each moment of physical discomfort and secreting it away in the dark of his eyes. Frank’s skin started to creep, did the man just not blink or something? Wanting to shake his head, Frank shrank back instead. He was not thinking about how creepy Sakaki was, he was not. Just focus on not puking, not puking was pivotal for getting out of this with his job.

“Couldn’t have known,” came the murmured rebuke from WhatshisName. And Frank knew the rules, as did Harold who was earwigging as hard as he could without looking up from typing like a mad pidgy.

Now was not the time to make a stand. Black eyes scrolled over his desk, lingering upon the nick-nacks to lock on a picture, Frank’s wife, he had a picture of his wife on his desk and would have had Green if Green weren’t so dogged about not having her picture, her name, anywhere. It’d seem mad when they last argued about it, but now he was glad. Smally glad this lunatic wouldn’t get the pleasure. Besides him, still typing, Harold was pretending no one was there, and it seemed to serve WhathisName and Sakaki heartily approved because they ignored Harold in turn.

Looking about, without wonder or inflection, Sakaki hummed, some decision made.

“We should move along.”

And it warmed Frank a bit to note that Sakaki didn’t bother with WhatshisName’s name either. As they wandered off the Italian rose his voice, words clipped, and the accent and tones recalled Frank to an ultimatum that he couldn’t quite excise from his head.

“I noticed a profound lack of company culture here… No activities to encourage closeness, loyalty, or the next generation to join the workforce as the old hand's fade out. This really must be remedied, so I was thinking, how about hosting a “bring your kid to work day”? Might bring some new blood to the place.”

And as Frank’s boss fell into raptures of bootlicking Frank sank into his chair. Face pale, shaking a little bit.

Because Arceus, this was happening, had happened, somehow someway the Giovanni who wasn’t, was.

The Misses was going to have a fit.

Especially when she was told that he’d gone to HR and quit, seconds after meeting the new president of his company. Once he was sure of his legs Frank saved and logged out, packing up his things though it was hours before he had to go. Taking his personal things, they weren’t many and what pens he left behind didn’t matter, Frank packed up, cradling his things because he wasn’t coming back. Ever. HR was two stories down, he’d take the stairs to avoid the touring president and get there with plenty of time to file his papers and get the Hell out.

Then he was going to pick Green up, early, because Mew above they needed to talk.

XXX

Things tossed into his passenger seat, Frank Azule fumbled out his phone. He wasn’t shaking, but his pallor hadn’t eased up. If anything else a glance in the mirror confirmed that he looked worse.

Near thirty minutes of being given an epic run around, had ended with being told “there were no termination papers available”, and “they were in a shuffle of management and everything old wasn’t being accepted but the new forms would be along… and could he wait just thirty minutes more..” and Frank Azule had lost it.

What type of Mew blasted company forbade people from quitting? Well screw them, he was leaving and he’d blocked his Boss and the company’s employee outreach line so they couldn’t call him in.

Then he’d called the other half, and Mew hadn’t that been a call. But it’d been done and Mary was furious beyond words. Trapped at the courthouse, haranguing the staff, because the number and papers for their domestic disturbance call in… weren’t in the system. Didn’t exist. Even though she’d been waving them about, then some guard or other, some man in a uniform she hadn’t recognized, had taken the paper’s “to the back” and hadn’t come out again and everyone and everything around her was acting like nothing had happened.

The staff had changed shifts for lunch, returned, and the woman behind the counter who Mary had been dealing with from the start had looked up at her, eyes wide and vapid, and had demanded to know who Mary was.

Never mind Mary had been there since before eight, and this was the same woman she’d started the paperwork process with.

A domestic disturbance? She hadn’t heard anything, the aide avowed, but don’t tell anyone, she’d check right now. And some typing later and nothing had been noted in the Sevii criminal logs, for almost a month. She could go back further if there was a need, but this screen was clean…

“It’s insane!” Mary hissed.

“I’m getting Green and bringing her home, right now.”

“If I can’t get anyone to review the video footage I’ll join you sooner rather than later. Someone must have seen something, even if it’s a camera. Be safe, and I’ll keep in regular contact.”

“Get an escort to the car,” Frank suggested, pulling back, eyes on the road. “Or we can pick you up.”

It’d be a ten-minute drive to Green’s school, if he lucked out with the lights he could make it in five.

“No, just get her and go. I’ll be home soon enough.”

“Love you.” Frank tabbed on because Mary wasn’t the one to offer casual endearments, that was Frank’s job. His only job until he got another one anyways. He wasn’t quite quick enough that she could reply but hopefully was fast enough she caught it before the call cut off.

It’d have to do.

XX

When Green got pulled out of her classes to field an emergency call from Daddy’s work… it’d been like Silph, but a more awful. The what-ifs were more grim, centering on where someone she knew was in the building and there’d be Rockets and…. And Green managed to cut off that panic off by scanning the skies. A glance up confirmed there were no psychic fields wrapped around that part of town, or at least in that part of the sky she could see from the hallway windows that were pointed the right way.

“Mrs. Azule, please don’t wander.” The teacher’s aide rebuked.

And they were off again. To the schools, public phone, settled right by the principal’s office. An outdated necessity since cell phone signals were blocked as soon as one set foot in the parking lot. It was old, cordless, and heavy in her hand, still warm from touch the aide who’d pulled it off the hook, typed in the override code (983431) and passed it down before stepping back a bit to give her the illusion of privacy.

“This is Green Azule, who’s calling?”

Because her parents raised no fool, and she wasn’t going to assume anything. The timing was weird, an hour before Da’s first break, and Mum never called on her breaks. Ever.

Figured it was him. “I was wondering if you’ve heard any news since we last talked? I understand it’s been about a week and I meant to ask how often Silver reached out to you.”

“Not that often,” twirling the cord in her hand Green shifted from one foot to the other. “It’s really nice for you to talk to me on your lunch break Da’ but I got a test next period…”

And that was Green’s way of warning him they didn’t have much time and she wasn’t alone.

He coughed, clearly the Da bit having thrown him a bit. Shame she couldn’t see his face. Oh well, just imagined him shocked by ‘chu, it’d probably be close enough. And he deserved to be shook a bit, near scaring her to death by calling from her Da’s work.

She focused on his strangled noise and recalling that one time when he’d almost got incinerated by Red’s Charizard. The memories let her giggle. Happy memories, on replay, to keep her voice light, the oldest trick in the book.

“I can’t believe you forgot your password again! You left it on the counter on the Illex Times, I had to keep Mum from throwing it out, you know!”

“How forgetful of me.”

“Probably want to re-write it down, your copy was looking like it was written Feb of this year, do you have a pen and paper? Or you forget that too?”

The pen’s button being depressed managed to sound threatening, how he managed to do that over a phone line was impressive.

So for that, and just because he’d pulled her out of history, she tossed him a bone. “Alright, so it’s B.2.28.par12. Need anything else?”

If he was smart he might find Silver’s wanted poster… well almost wanted poster, there wasn’t a picture, but the sentiment was there. And all in all, it was such a small thing. A few words to pay him back for getting her out of class. But.. she probably should be heading back now, the aide had looked in twice, first to make sure there wasn’t any crying and she needed to take over, the second time to look pointedly at her watch and tapped it.

The five-minute time limit was so stupid, but still… When in school stupid was the rule of thumb…

“Did you have anything else to give me?”

“If I find any more of your passwords I’ll let you know.” Green lied, because she wasn’t giving him the information for Silver’s photo, not yet, maybe never. “Do you remember at the last teacher-parent conference when they said I hogged the phone too much? They’re probably gonna make me hang up, I’m just glad it was nothing bad. You know?”

He hummed, amused. “I can assure you, nothing bad has happened to me.”

And to that suspicious turn of phrase Green bristled. “Or mum.” She prodded, tone going flat.

“There was a report of some fraudulent police claims going about… But I’m sure that’s a minor inconvenience in the grand scheme of things.”

Before Green could think of anything to say the aide tapped Green’s shoulder. Time was up. Green tapped one sneakered foot into the floor, suddenly frustrated, because she couldn’t think on how to end this that sounded right and wasn’t too sappy. Because Da was sappy and if she was that level of sappy at Giovanni Silver’d be short his own Da’, Father… Whatever.

Squirming away from a grab at the phone, Green settled on a withering glare at the aide and a rushed. “See you soon.”

“Oh,” Giovanni’s tone dropped to a tone of pure languid malice, “any minute now, I’m sure.”

And with that, and a chuckle, the Boss of Team Rocket hung up.

And that’s when Da came in. He plowed into the office like a Taurus with its tails afire, chattering at the lady at the desk to find out where Green was because she wasn’t in class… Both adults hovered around the computer and started to freak out together. Huffing out a little sigh she walked right up to both of them, pulled on his sleeve because she was right there and he was facing the wrong way. The principal office and phone slot weren’t that far apart and he’d had to walk past her to natter at the desk girl and... And he hadn’t noticed, too wrapped up in panic and adult things. It took two tugs for him to turn around and when he did he froze. Then he made up for it a little, throwing his arms around her, drawing her close, smoothing her hair like the first night back. Because he’d missed her so so much, and like then, he was now crying.

The hug was nice, even if he was a bit sweaty and worn-looking, so she hugged him back.

“Thank Arceus, I was so worried.”

“Hi Da’,” and though she really shouldn’t, talking to Giovanni put her in a sassy mood, so she sorta did have to. Just because. “Wow, did they let you out of work early today?”

“N- Umm… I’m… Let’s head to the car, we’ll talk there. We’re… She’s leaving with me, family emergency.”

Which did not sound like “a minor inconvenience” Da’s face did not look like he was “having a little setback”. Green resolved, as she took her Da’s hand and let him lead her to the car, to send Giovanni those dancing bees tonight. With the volume maxed and locked, because she could.

 

[K_S]

Green sort of wished she was like Karen some days. Karen could swear without flinching from her own words, without stuttering over vileness, profanities, or… anything. She was fearless like that, and Green wished she’d had enough of that in her to actually say what she was thinking.

Or just finish what she was doing even though she was well and truly caught.

As it was Green froze in the middle of a heist gone wrong. Looking up at Mum, Green smiled, despite the bad angle, aiming for whimsically, because it’d slowed the punishment sometimes. Her smile defanged the angry people she swindled and made the Rockets she dealt with her hesitate. Green didn’t know why, it just did. So she did...

And Mum, Mum was definitely not happy and it took effort not to twist to standing and bolt. Because that’s what she did, a smile and book it, hopefully, a wallet heavier on the way out.

There was really no way out of this, and none of the old things were going to work. Green knew that, so she froze.

Arm half shoved into the mattress, twisted about and on her tippie-toe to get more length out of her small form, Green was near burrowed under the mattress rooting around because her phone wasn’t a phone. No, it was a jolttik. An evil joltik whose ambitions to be on the opposite side of whatever spot Green’s arm was at.

Arms crossed over her chest, Mum waited and Green eased the mattress down and wiggled out.

Mum walked around, didn’t have to reach her arm more than a bit, and pulled out Green’s phone.

Clearly, the evil phone joltik had a favorite.

“Living room, now.”

So much for sending that Gif and seeing if Silver called.

XXX

Da’ overrode her passwords because of course, he could.

And both he and Mum went over every message, every text, and thank Mew they didn’t go over her contact list… Because what they found was bad enough.

Silver didn’t call. She hadn’t lied to Giovanni about that, but he did text and send a lot of picture messages. She’d missed two, a nice picture of what might be Oak’s reserve, a field with a familiar white fence anyways, and when she didn’t respond he sent a “U alright?”. The last message was from three hours ago.

And Green could completely understand wanting to have a super-powerful Psychic-type just then. To be able to tell people things from impossible far away... She’d of told Silver she was fine, just up the river, and not to call, not until she found a way to obscure things better.

The anynominous call, twice, during the middle of her school day was ominous, but luckily that person hadn’t left any messages so nothing came of it.

She suspected it was Giovanni. The time frame from him calling her school from the last call was five minutes apart and the man was obsessively fussy about punctuality. Green’d heard Grunts and Executives moan about it when she’d crept through her fair share of bases back when she did stupid things like that for Mask.

And the man seemed just like the type.

“It’s not just me being obsessed with a screen Mum.”

Green made one attempt to defend herself, picking on the accusation that’d hurt the most. Then she just gave up. Letting them do whatever with her phone because they were going to do it no matter what she said. Unable to do anything much she’d have to wait….. And save up to buy a burner. Once her allowance was unlocked it’d be Green’s next goal, there had to be some up-and-coming trainer in town she could wipe across the floor or something. Jiggly’s groom kit could wait; she’d just have to share her comb a little longer.

“Silver’s still out there and I don’t want him to be alone, so I try to message him a few times a week.”

“And why weren’t you…. Why don’t you try to talk him around, to go to the police, to his father, to somewhere stable and safe.”

Because less than a year ago “safe” had been the road. Stable had been a cave or unoccupied hotel or apartment they could break into. And Green could say it, had said it, and they hadn’t heard. So she didn’t say anything. She didn’t nod along; just let them talk at her because right now there wasn’t much that she could do.

And if they were thinking she was weird, well they were being weird. Asking questions she’d already answered, and telling her to tell them right even though she already did.

“This… Giovanni’s… fixation… is a bit off. Has he done anything to make you feel unsafe?”

Now if Green told the full truth the answer would have been something like “he’s never stopped” but as it was… Green wasn’t going to go there. If nothing else Giovanni taking over Da’s work and playing with Mum at the courthouse was very much like a Persian batting a rat trapped between its paws. The claws would stay sheathed, until either hunger or malice peaked, so right now the thing that happened to her parents was Giovanni playing.

And she didn’t know how to say that without scaring them senseless, so Green didn’t say anything at all. Just thought, and tipped her head to make a show of thinking, because to Mum’s question she was going to have to say something.

Rocket had ways of dealing with problems that left bodies and ruination, enough so that you could walk down the street in Rocket garb and be treated with nothing but respect and groveling. Treat a Rocket bad, even a Grunt, and you would get a rabies-infected zubat sicced on you the next night. Wheezing could be left in a car trunk to either explode or flood the vehicle with toxic fumes. Bank accounts hacked and emptied via backdoor routes that bought and paid security programmers left for them to use.

There were other things, things “below level” that Will’d seen and told them as horror stories. Usually the psychic whipped out his tales right before a Rocket mission because Will was a sadist like that. If the junior Mask disciples died from being sloppy due to sleep deprivation, that was them being weak, nothing Will did. Mask wouldn’t look further than the body. Then it was for retrieval purposes to dispose of any evidence.

“I didn’t really meet him until lllex, and it was a mess. He was sick, then Celebi was there, and then he wasn’t. Then it was Team Rocket and the League and Red and Blue and Gold and… Everyone was there. Everyone had an angle and… And when the people we trusted, the ones that said “hey we can help you find home!” suddenly turned around and said “hey the Mask says he’s good now and wants to talk to you”.” Green’s voice rose in a crackling laugh. “If Silver hadn’t tossed down a hail I’d of had Blasty wash them all away.”

While Mum paled, because that might have been confessing contemplating murder, Da’ cleared his throat.

“Why didn’t you go with Mr. Sakaki if… if your friends… did what you said?”

“Well after I spent a bit admiring the new shiny knife stuck in my back.” Green growled… “He… Giovanni was up to his ears with Team Rocket.” Not a complete lie, just the truth in a way they’d expect. “They’d tried to kill him,” it was a telling a smidge out of order, but oh well. “Him and Silver. So getting Silver away from everyone seemed… safer… especially since the “good guys” were going to pass us back to Mask on a silver platter.”

All to keep Giovanni out of power. But considering what she’d seen, today with her parents, and the glimpses of Rocket on the run, she suspected that Giovanni hadn’t lost a scratch of power. Even as he was dying. If anything everything that happened post-Ilex cemented the man as untouchable and well connected.

And an utterly unspeakable level of jerk. Green was sure Karen had better words, but right then Green couldn’t think of them.

So Green wished Red luck, (not really but it was the nicest thing to say) but didn’t expect anything of the champion’s efforts to take the Rocket Boss down. Except maybe he’d only be champion for a little.

Some digging online had proven that Blue Oak was barred from the gym leader’s association and Giovanni’d taken back his gym. Letting Blue open the doors then, the day of sweeping in with a team of lawyers. Giovanni’s reopening event was going to be announced after the corruption cases against all the elite four were wrapped up. Suffice to say that put a damper on the trainer season.

Which meant Green’d have to wait until next summer at the soonest to restart her journey. Which meant having to get money by earning her allowance, what few battles she could kick up in secret, and… getting a job she guessed? If Mum and Da’ let her.

She’d look into that later.

For now, it was back to sorta (not) lying.

“The last I saw of Mr. Sakaki, was the Mask was making a grab at me and Silver and Sakaki got between us and him and was threatening to tear Mask apart with his Rhydon.” Actually, it might have been Nidoking, oh well, “he’d just sent Team Rocket packing,” ordering a withdraw was sort of the same thing, right? “and Lance whipped out a Dragonite,” or three, “to stop him. And Silver was scared and freaking out, and he screamed at Sneasel to hail and Sneasel made it hail... And we ran.”

She’d been blocked from all the goodie goodie squad’s emails and phones before they’d even gotten out of the forest. Her phone’s plan turned off, become Oak had been paying for that, and then all of a sudden he wasn’t. She’d had to steal a phone with GPS because her maps and everything was locked up behind her ‘dex. So she hadn’t known what happened to the goodie goodie squad after they left.

Truth be told, she hadn’t cared. Still didn’t.

The bad thing was that she couldn’t answer any of Mum and Da’s questions, because she’d told them bits and pieces about them while she traveled. And they just couldn’t understand why Green suddenly stopped talking to them, or about them.

So, no, she had no idea what any of her “League friends” were up to. And as for why hadn’t Silver gone to them, rather than to Green’s place… She’d already said. The good guys, giving them back to Mask.

But that clearly wasn’t good enough.

So Green gave them another reason.

Why had Green brought Silver, a known delinquent, to their home? Well, Green had thought her Mum and Da would be able to put up with Silver until Silver felt safe enough and well enough to call his Da to take him home.

So sorry she’d gotten that wrong.

They’d winced at that, but hadn’t apologized, hadn’t turned around and said “We’ll take him in for a little so Giovanni can pick him up.”.

As far as the rest of the dex holders’ went, they weren’t friends. Green didn’t have any of those, except Yellow and Silver.

And they hadn’t known about Yellow because they hadn’t asked. And just then, Green didn’t want to share, it was petty and mean, but she didn’t.

Yellow and her pokecenter phone stealing shenanigans were the highlights of Green’s weekends. Anytime between six and eight, she’d call. Saturday unless something was up in the Forest, then she’d call Sunday and be utterly wiped but still chipper. Because when was Yellow never chipper? Since she didn’t have a phone Yellow had to use the semi-private one at the facility and play nurse keep away and hop around with it in her hand, all while still trying to stay in the view screen and…

And Yellow’d totally earned herself the ‘nick of Khanga’ from all the hopping. You just knew a nickname stuck when Silver cottoned on to it, found it funny, and started using it non-stop. Because Silver almost never noticed anything like that, and he’d noticed, and been amused, by Yellow’s hopping keep away with Viridian’s Nurse Joy.

And Yellow was loyal. One long call with Green later and Yellow’d washed her hands of everyone and everything League-related. Though her talking to Giovanni was weird. Because she had to talk to Giovanni to work with Viridian co’ right? A company wouldn’t take up a lawsuit by some kid's hearsay.

She’d have to ask Yellow how that happened when she got her phone back. Which sounded like never, because Mum and Da' were seriously going on a tangent about screen addiction. And how Green needed to show better sleep management skills, because why was she taking calls at six in the morning…

Anyways, Green’d have to check. If she got her old phone back she really needed to check Yellows call history with her, because the last time they’d talked, really talked… Might have been a few days before Giovanni’d called her. So Yellow might have been the one that’d spilled Green’s number to the old Viridian Fat Cat.

And Green’d have to decide if that changed anything between the two of them if Yellow had been the one to squeal.

Running a hand through her hair, head buzzing with plots and suspicions and anxieties, Green’d started humming. Wishing Jiggly’d hear because Jiggly’d offer to sing. And right now Green would say yes. Mum and Da' looked at each other, then her, concern obvious because Green hadn’t meant to hum out loud. But she had…

And she didn’t need their concern, what she needed was for them to believe. If they weren’t going to do that… She stood, just done.

“I don’t... I’m I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”

She’d accept the phone as a loss to get out of this talk. So she left them to… how had Giovanni put it… delusions? Well, whatever delusions and decisions they were going to come to were on them.

It wasn’t like they were hearing her anyway.

 

[K_S]

It’d taken three days, three of battling every “walk” with Nido. She’d had to cut through elementary schoolyards, because she needed to win the fights without Nido getting scraped up. And she had. At the expense of a few little kid’s lunch money. Still, to make things sorta right she made sure not to hit the same yard more than once. And skipped picking pockets, because though it was unlikely she’d get caught she daren’t.

Battling wasn’t quite “against the rules” yet, so she could claim ignorance if Mum or Da suspected anything or worse found proof.

She couldn’t go around saying she didn’t think stealing was wrong, no one’d buy that. So she didn’t sell that tale.

Smuggling her winnings under her shirt, tape running with the grain of the stripes and seams to make the adlibbed pocket all but invisible, it’d been a way to shuffle her money around and about. And while it was an inelegant hiding place she’d managed a system to stick the money inside her pillow. It hadn’t taken too long to save up to buy the cheapest phone she could. She wasn’t aiming for smart or anything fancy after all. Just a flip device with a camera that sorta worked. Something with enough memory to handle texts and a few pictures.

And once she had it, calls she made, after counting coins to make sure she absolutely had enough for a minute text hybrid card.

First, she’d reached out to Yellow, because she’d gotten it on a Thursday and a day charging meant she was reaching out to the younger girl come Friday night. Or rather texting. She daren’t call from home.

Anyway, the messages were short and quick and sent to a friend of Yellow’s that Green knew had a cell phone. It was likely class time in Viridian, and they usually sat together. So when class was boring they shared his phone. When Yellow responded that she’d stolen her friends phone Green got to business.

Her messages were abrupt and reasonably snappy all things considered.

Do not call her personal line unless Green called first. She’d tell more later. And nothing was seriously wrong, but her parents were drawing all the wrong conclusions. Like thinking Mask was imaginary. Then she ordered the girl not to respond to this message, Green’d call when she thought she’d get to walk Nido again, (late Sunday) and apologized for making Yellow camp out at the pokecenter just to talk.

Then she asked Yellow to pass the same message along to Silver.

Of course Yellow wrote back. Promising to give the night shift heck (she couldn’t even write Hell, Green’s lips quirked at that). And some sort of symbol smile face thing that the new phone did not like at all. Doing the time zone conversions in her head and on her fingers to double-check it, Green sent the time, waited five minutes, then got to destroying the evidence. Setting the phone to mute, she ran it through a factory reset, deleting Yellow’s friend’s phone number from the logs and making the device almost good as new.

It wouldn’t hide the data usage if someone really dug into the phone but most people didn’t bother with that.

Then she’d left the thing to charge. Green was proud of her adlibbed charging station. Making a slit in her backpack she’d thread her charger cord through right under the shoulder strap, she plugged the phone on the cord’s end and buried the cord and device under her books she wasn’t going to need. Propping her ‘pack against the wall, she’d hidden the charger’s existence with the use of angles and Nido. Setting Nido’s napping blankets just right so that Nido thought Green’s backpack was a new pillow.

Since no one could easily move a napping Nidorina Green left her to her new pillow with a pat, then set up her study desk with all her assignments in a row, shuffling the papers because random was the only way she could be bothered to even try at this silliness anymore.

A quick shuffle (cards were easier, but the motions were the same enough Green’d managed a nice rhythm going) and Green flipped over the top page. History, multiple-choice, some war about Kalos, be still her beating heart.

Wishing Nido was more hyperactive so she could “take her for a walk” and call Silver, Green let go of the wish and self-pity and got to work. After all, if wishers were fish… But that was stupid, they only sounded the same. If wishes came true there’d never be a bird in the sky, or birds coming through windows, and Mask would really be a bit of old nightmare only half-remembered who’d never taken anyone.

Not real, and not uncaught, and therefore dangerous, still.

And this wasn’t helping, taking one deep breathe, then another, Green tried to drum up some interest in the questions in front of her. She just… couldn’t. Kalos was stupid far and who cared about what they did? It wasn’t like it impacted her in on the fringe of Kanto.

After a bit of waffling, Green decided boring as this was going to be it’d be for the best to drag the homework out anyway.

It wasn’t like Mum was talking to her anyway, and Da was out job hunting, so for now it was her, Nido’s snores, and King of Kalos the Frist and whatever actions he’d pulled to get slotted into her curriculum for company.

Rewinding that last bit in her head Green sighed. She should… probably… do enough reading to get the guy’s name down at least. Just in case one of her parents decided to ask what she’d learned in school today.

Ung. Why her?



XXX

It took two walks, two days, and while Yellow was bubbly, bright, and frustrated with her inability to help she’d pass along what she could to Silver.

Silver’d called on Green’s third walk, exactly one minute into it. And suddenly Nido’s mad dash down the sidewalk was a blessing, she’d had an excuse to run, and once she caught Nido instead of popping her in her pokeball and going home she’d waved the poison type on.

And a race, sure, Nido loved those. Showoff she was Nido took the lead, leading them towards the beach, Green a goodly ways behind her. Slowing to a trot, she’d lost anyways, Green dug out her new-old phone and picked up on Silvers fifth ring.

And while jogging, she explains everything. Her situation, Giovanni looking, everything everything.

And because he’s more than earned it, Green offers. “Did you want me to lie, or not help?”

The first would be tricky and dangerous. The second.. well she’d just not call on her phone or let him know about this one. She couldn't stop Giovanni from bothering Mum and Da’ to make her talk, but she could drag it out.

Sounding younger than he had in years, Silver whispered. “He’s not mad?”

Like him not going home is a broken window or a badly Dug hole from a ‘mon or something. But Green thinks it over, about how Giovanni’d spoke to her parents, and legends and leagues… How he’d had to be pulled off of Mask, and she’s sure Mask’s face had been broken and bleeding even as they’d turned tail to run.

“Not at you.” She answered honestly because she thinks he isn’t.

Insane as it sounded to say out loud.

“It’s just... it’s weird. Do you think he cares? Really?”

A lot, Green’d say if she were normal, I think he cares a lot.

But she’s not normal and she remembers Mask’s tenants. How no one would live them, ever again. How he’d make sure of it. They’d do evil until they were evil and no one could stand them. Except for Mask, because Mask made them, they only existed because of Mask and only be so long as He willed.

“I kinda think he does, he’s just really weird about showing it.”

“I don’t want to talk to him.” Silver whispers the confession. He’d shouted it before, spat it… Now it’s a stuttered mess. Getting away from Red and his constant ranting had done Silver some good, he was wondering now, even if he’d never say it. “But you can... if you can…” he tabs on bitterly. “The pictures I guess? Just not the texts. That’d be weird.”

And Green agrees it would be weird.

“And tell him to stop being a jerk to your folks. They’re scared stupid by the sound of it.”

And to that Green laughed. “You think I didn’t try? So what’d you and Snea’ do today?”

And they fall into their pattern, Green kicking sand because she’s at the beach and Nido’s chasing the surf, baying at the waves. But it’s not surfer season, so no one cares, the picnickers are further back and the swimmers are riding their water types and trying to pose cool while they do it. They share stories, and Silver’s stoked, he found a thing of unguarded Beedrill honey and is making plans to harvest it, for something. Green knows that tone so she doesn’t ask. Her classmates bore them both to tears even if her impersonations make them laugh so hard it hurts. And under the pretense of catching his breath Silver passes the phone to Snea’ who'd been perched on his shoulders making grabbies for the device carrying Green’s voice. And because she’s not embarrassed to talk to Snea’ on the phone Green rolls with it. Chatting at the dark type for a little before she pulls out Jiggly and lets them talk to each other a bit.

“I know you’re in Pallet and so you’re close to Viridian, so I’m gunna ask. Don’t prank him alright. And before you say I’m a melting heart, I’m not. I just wanna go first.”

“How’re you going to do that?”

Well, that was a stupid question. Green already told Silver about the GIF, described it lovingly even, and gotten his full seal of approval. But then she rewound the statement and realized, Silver thought her parents were good at hiding things. She supposed if she were respectful and mindful of things like privacy Green’d be stumped, but she wasn’t. She’d already found her phone, it was in Mum’s nightstand under some frilly lacy things. And she’d need two or three minutes to dig out the memory card and send all the pictures and a very specific GIF out. Cruddy as it was her “new” phone could do the chore. It wouldn’t be hard.

She’d also have to tell the Rocket not to call, she’d call him.

That part… Green wasn’t looking forwards to it. Trying to give Giovanni Sakaki an order. It wasn’t going to go well or be fun. She’d have to trust him not to take over her school in retaliation. But the glut of Silver pictures might slow down any angry Rocket shenanigans.

Hopefully.

Affecting a lightness she didn’t feel, Green chuckled.

“Oh, I have my ways.”

“Never doubted it.”

Or her. Somehow, someway, Silver never doubted the person he should have the most.

She never got it, Silver’s reason, a straightforward answer to “why” when she’d broken and asked. “Why” did he trust her, with… everything. Even when she’d messed it up so badly. But he did, did now even.

“Tell me if you can hear him scream from his super-secret Rocket base on Sevii.”

“You can count on it.”

Green promised, and checking her counter Green could see her plan was running out of minutes, so she had to let him go. A holler at Nido and they start the long walk home.

She got the cad by slipping Jiggly into Mum and Da’s room, one song to deepen their sleep and she got the card and got out. Setting it onto her new phone was a chore, loading screens and waiting.

But she got it loaded and then sent. Every picture, every thumbprint and jogged smear shot. Every crystal clear shot of the road when Silver was still. Every shot of Sneasal who’d doggedly tried to eat the phone for a month straight. Giovanni had it all and it took all of her text plan to send everything and one specific GIF.

And if she sent it after midnight, well Mum and Da’ had stayed up late, wasn’t on her. And if he couldn’t reply to her and would get an automated message saying the phone was out of minutes/data/ and what not…

Giovanni’d live in suspense for a little, and good for him, he could enjoy it.

 

[K_S]

There was a snowman on Giovanni’s desk in his Viridian office.

Clearly crafted by pre-adult hands, the tells were in the size and shape. It’d been set on the center of his desk, one twig thrust through it, to give it arms, some leaves pressed against it to give it “clothes”.

It looked a bit like a hula dancer in the right light.

The other, larger, snowman, was part slush, part snow, part damaged carpet rolled up in three lumpy balls. Those had been stacked into the chair across his desk. It’d melted enough to tip, and he righted it with a nudge as he circled it. Not quite believing it even as his wingtips squelched on the drip of water coming from the mess in the making. The larger snowman sported more character. Feathers for eyebrows, PCP pipes for arms. Each arm a different size, mind, a different pipe type. Both were scuffed enough to be scavenged from a construction site of some sort, darkened about the edges that they’d been dragged over asphalt more than likely. That was definitely some sort of thick glass popped in the place of eyes… The color and shape were a bit familiar, and Giovanni decides as he looks at the slumping thing, that this work is meant to be a bit satirical. He’d been described as cutting by acquaintances he supposed, and the black glass is almost the same color as his own eyes.

And he doesn’t quite know what to do with the mental image of his son combing the streets, perhaps junkyards and construction sites at night, picking up bottles and sharp fragments for materials. Trying to find something that matched one viewing among the fire of a falling aeroship, or in that hail-streaked madness of Ilex when everything’d gone to Hell.

Such thoughts make Giovanni’s throat tighten, and he has to look away a bit until he feels steadier.

He’d have to read the local crime section and see if he could find anything tangible to save, and perhaps have to cover up, but until then…

Giovanni takes his seat at his desk and stares at his son’s… art. The Rocket had thought he’d missed this… all of it. And even though it’s a destructive variation… Well, he has his son’s art in his office. Probably a decade too late for it to be sentimental, but still, Giovanni’d enjoy it while he could.

And, he decided, pulling out his phone, he’d preserve what he could.

Record keeping done, he divested the thing of its outerwear. A feminine coat from a middling brand the tag affirms. Not the local Viridian Co’ owned mall. He’d have to research this competitor, but thought; maybe, it was a branch in Celedon. Whatever its origin, the coat is too small for his son unless the boy was starving.

(Which he’d better not be. Green and Yellow’d assured him in their own ways that Silver was reasonably healthy if possibly sleep-deprived and anxious. While not ideal it wasn’t starving, and that thin comfort had allowed Giovanni some sleep from time to time…)

Running a hand over the material, he finds an inner pocket, and though Silver’d clearly tucked something within to keep it safe the ice had melted and damage had been inevitable.

He pulls the missive. Slitting the envelope with his paper-knife confirmed it’s not for him. Basic reading assured it.

He’d acquired some of Green’s mail it seemed.

Understandable considering he and Silver weren’t quite on speaking terms yet. But second-hand communication via Yellow’s tales and Green’s passed along pictures was a start. After all, Silver’d consented to the information exchanged both times. Giovanni’d refused Yellow’s information (no matter how crazed it’d made him. His lackeys, Rocket and otherwise, had suffered until Yellow’d gotten Silver’s blessings) something that might of lead to the boy being so liberal with the pictures a few weeks later.

Regardless, while not for him, it’d been meant to be found by him and passed along.

He wondered if Silver was aware of the madness that’d seized Green’s parents and seen him as a route or lesser evils.

He wondered if Green was aware of the picture and its frame he’d sent to her home, twice now.

Both times the girl’s parents had disposed of it and out of spite before she’d gotten home. So he’d let it rest. He’d allowed Frank to get his last job, not blocking the application as he had with the others. Some small company competing with a Lysandre puppet firm, Giovanni forgot the name. Though the innocent people of Sevii had no clue to its purpose, Giovanni and Lysander’s power plays were so subtle the police had no clue of either Flare or Rocket being on the island.

Planting an inside man, no matter how unwilling, in the crossfire when things came to a head between the “firms” might be useful at a later time. And if Frank proved uncooperative he’d be a decent patsy with “discovered” ties to Lysander and a springboard for police to start poking around.

A win-win all around.

The office, a bit above the man’s paygrade (as was the whole position really) sported nice AC for summer days, a state-of-the-art heating system for winter, all tied to a remote control synced to a remote on Giovanni’s desk. The large window looking out on a parking lot could be made lively by a hanging plant sil the Rocket supposed. What the man did to the room was his business. The only other expense was one wall set to company-approved art.

Specifically, a wall of ice with its... abstractly profane, scratches were meant to be a point of gaiety, or so said the company paperwork. The photo had been expanded and ringed round with a gilt gold frame. Expensive and expansive enough Frank dare not throw it out, damage it, or take it down.

It’d been bolted in to the foundation, only a blow torch would peel it off, and its glass case was sate of the art, bulletproof, fireproof, and smear-resistant.

Giovanni really did hope Frank was enjoying his first day at work. Truly, the man’d been working so hard to get any other job than the one he’d held for so many years, such vigor should be rewarded. As for Giovanni, he considered the clothes he’d rescued from the lop-sided mess across from him, twiddling a tassel on the scarf as he considered his options.

Well, this was one way to find out if Green had found the gift card he’d ordered planted in her locker and had the time to activate it.

Tapping in a string of familiar numbers he made the call, it rang, automated message felled by his generosity. For that Giovanni cracked a tight smile, as his son’s efforts at satire sunk a little lower the chair as heat and time broke it down.

When she picked up he’d managed to sound warm, but then it’d been a good day, so he indulged the feeling with candor.

“Silver sent you something via my office. How can I pass it along without it being destroyed?“

“Oh my Arceus!” She sounded so affronted that he’d called, and he was still smiling, despite himself. “I’m between classes! How is this thing even working?”

And yes he can hear the shuffle of bodies, that isn’t his problem.

”Remote upgrade.”

She’s strangling on her own tongue, trying not to curse him out in public. If he were a sentimental man he’d claim it was adorable. Like a newborn meowth flashing fangs and squeaking to assert its dominance even as it was being wheeled up by hands too powerful for it to break the skin of.

He blamed the dancing Beedrill pictures that Green kept sending to him for such an irrelevant tangent.

“I also have… something you requested. I’ve sent it along a few times… with no luck.”

He was being tactful, and her silence stretches a bit so Giovanni listens to footsteps and mumbled adolescent conversation for a time.

“How many times?”

“Twice.”

“Ung! Really?”

“I know it’s not… tasteful… But perhaps a corkboard false front would be better? It could be rotated so you can look at it when you need to.” Giovanni offered.

“No.” And there’s fire to the girl’s tone, he recalls Silph almost… pointedly. “Fit it in my locker, I’ll smuggle it home, and put it in my room, in the right spot. They take it down… they touch it… and I’m done.”

Gone, so promises the tone.

He’d normally not wish the anxiety of a lost child on anyone, but Frank and Mary were all but begging for it.

“Silver also sent something sentimental along, a card; it’s unfortunately too damaged to send via post. And I was only able to make out a word or two. Your name, and the word midterms?” He leaves it hanging and Green...

Green chokes, composes herself, and barks out a laugh.

“Oh my Arceus! I told him… that’s like in two months… not…” Another laugh, “guess he really thinks I’m going to pass.”

“It could be arranged.”

It’s almost a sincere offer and wouldn’t be the first he’d forged academic papers or league forms to lure some promising youngster into Rocket or provided a cover for exemplary service.

“Thanks, but no.” She sounds utterly sincere, which is a bit disquieting, “I’m trying to rig the system a bit, get myself flunked out of this “fru-fru ladies only but it’s not because that’d be sexist” academy. At least in public school, they let you have your team.”

Noted.

“I’ll bring your things about… day after tomorrow? Same place as the card?”

“That’s fine; I’ll get it after school I guess...”

The sounds of footsteps recede, and he can hear her summon something. There’d turbulence, but she doesn’t have a bird. The mystery is solved with, after a thump, a soft voice chirps “Jiggly” and he can hear her recalling her ‘mon.

“You know,” and he blames Silver’s project for the near playful slant of this banter. “If you wanted to get kicked out I could forward your evidence of some of your Mask activities to the police. Some break-in or other, nothing bloody.” He offered, tones dipping to a silken note he’d held before setting up a hit. “Give you a real criminal record.”

“And work for you and only you Uncle Gio,” she chirped and he swears he can hear the fluttering of her lashes and imagine her pout. “Mew no.” Her flat denial makes him laugh, and she picks a slow path across… well it isn’t’ cement… perhaps shingles. “I’ll stick to cons if I get that desperate.”

“Ah, but swindling under Rocket gives you dental.”

“I can just punch a teacher or something if they won’t let me leave. Make my own criminal record all on my own. Sooo…” again he can imagine her fluttering, if he sees her doing it he’ll rebuke her. The motion might seem cutesy but really conveyed an air of simplicity and thus should be used sparingly. “What’d he send me?”

“Wait and find out.”

“Ung, you’re a real jerk, you know that? It’s right in front of you, you could just-”

“Keep back talking and your first job under Rocket will be to be paired with Sabrina.”

“You wish.”

“For a month.”

“Denial is a river in Kalos!” She sings in reply. Perhaps seeing a guard or other she keeps the volume reasonable.

As for himself, he exercised his prerogative as an adult and cuts the call off before it got even more juvenile. Clearly Green was susceptible to victory high with something as small as successful ditching. He’d have to keep that in mind if she did join Rocket and train it out of her.

She calls back twenty minutes later. He’s settled on the patio outside the ruins of his gym, winter wear spread beside him to dry in the sun. Some grunts were scouring the building for ice and snowmen and tossing the ice onto the gardens, a free watering for the plants that were hardy enough to take it. He was neck-deep in League business when his phone rings, and looking at the number swears that if its’ the damned bee picture again he’s going to have someone burn Green’s mother's work down.

“So… Silver said last time we talked that he found some honey….”

“Good on him.” The Rocket snarls, because he’d nearly slipped heading out of his own office and brained himself on an ice jag. That’d been enough to kill his good mood. “Is he adding it to tea or expanding out on his camp cooking?”

“He used it to tar and feathered Professor Oak.”

The confession came out as a rush and Giovanni stopped typing, sure he hadn’t heard right.

Disbelieving it herself, Green repeated the words in a numb monotone. Gaining feeling and inflection as her rant went on.

“He feathered the professor with half-rotted pillows. He stole pillows from a hotel, a nice one with real feather fluff, and buried them somewhere wet so they’d really rot… and he tarred the professor with warm honey and… and M-Murkrow did a fly-by, lifting them up high and letting them drop. He… he tossed the pillowcases up and aerial aced them before they got down and… And it’s on the internet. Pallet’s main station is showing it non-stop. It’s on international news.”

Closing everything work-related Giovanni flipped to a news site. Viridian’s main news vine. It was the top story here. The footage from Oak’s cameras was abysmal. Murkrow could have been a painted pidgy if one didn’t know certain details. And there was no evidence of who’d broken into the hotel to get those pillows. No report of lost pillows. The buckets were Oak’s own feed pails repurposed, and there was no footage of who hauled the honey in. It’d likely been warmed and flown over from someplace on the reserve. Camp hot plates could do wonders, and Oak’s reserve was massive. If it were a dark type that’d done the fly by, if Silver flew off on the dark type immediately once Murkrow returned to him, then the police psychic types wouldn’t be able to get a bead to teleport the suspect in, sense motive, or identify the assailant.

“Oh my Arceus, what was he thinking? It got on TV!”

Considering his son’s mindset, the bits and pieces he’d glimpsed by proxy and hearsay, Giovanni clicked on and saved a few of the choicer pictures while Green, for lack of better words, freaked out. He allowed her to verbally flail, much longer than he’d tolerate in a subordinate because she’d needed to vent about something. Anything, really, considering the pressures in her life. Five minutes was a bit much though, so it was then he cut in.

“I suspect the motive was mainly altruistic.”

“How was tarring Professor Oak-?”

“It made you laugh, didn’t it?”

“A little,” The girl confessed. “He’s in so much trouble.” She hissed to herself.

Giovanni’d sent up a cleanup team to make sure everything was tidied, scrub away any loose DNA. Perhaps there’d be an opportunity to plant some bugs into the Oak residence, he gave the appropriate agents the roper permissions with a few flicks of a keyboard while Green seethed.

Silver’s distraction could be manipulated to best serve Rocket, and Giovanni would use it best he could though it was… unexpected.

“And he gets you to call him, even if it’s to yell at him, its attention, isn’t it?”

“That… He… How?” Green huffed, flopping on something heavy by the sound of it. “How do you know about that?“

Truth be told, he was a father, been one long enough to realize that type of tell. Silver’d been doing so since he was two, tossing toys to get attention and affection. This wasn’t too different. Funnier, yes, but much the same, the writing was on the wall. And Sneasel didn’t even need to sink her claws into the ice to tell the tale; all the signs were there, loud and clear.

“Experience.”

And let the little girl take from it what she would.

 

[K_S]

Boxes are piling on the beach. Boxes atop boxes, right in the middle of… well it’s not secluded, but it’s a not popular spn of the beach. More rock than sand, enough so Green wore boots. Someone has smoothed the sands, crunched the rocks together, and on these platforms started what looks like a Tetris game, save it’s real, the blocks are heavy, brown, and far enough from the surf to get washed away when the tide kicks in. Green wanders into the mess in the making because there’s no tape or signs saying to do otherwise. And she’d curious. She teases and sasses at the workers in their no logo uniforms. They “talk funny” as Silver’d say it, alternating Kantoian with… something else.


A familiar language, near fluid but cut, and in dry tones among each other. A few wave at her and she waves back and pointedly ignores them when they graduate to trying to wave her off.


It’s the most half-hearted order to buzz off she’s seen. She’s not a beedrill, thank you, and won’t be shooed off like one.


It doesn’t take long, they’re hollering among themselves, something about a Cap, and then she sees him. A familiar teal hair bobs among the short boxes, back and forth. She can see his arms wave as he’s yelling at a few who are yelling at her. The same langue Green guesses, but not the same words. Finally, the boss of this Tetris board steps from behind a box, more than familiar, and her hands drift to her belt even as her heart picks up pace.


The Rocket sees the motion, lips quirked halfway, half his face, like the zombie sh’s called him, jeered at hi for being across the courtyard of a tumbling building. Face pale (giving more proof, more fuel to the fires) despite being out in the sun…. But then Archer always looked sick to Green. Paler than she’d been under her mask, but no ice around him to make him like that. It’s a wonder he hasn’t combusted yet. And that’s petty, but Green’s not feeling nice. Not obscured by a cap baring an R, sweat making him look soaked, and plastering his hair down like hes’ got a off-color scraggly mop on his head Archer looks both resigned and irritated to see her.


Not surprised.


“You need somethin’, little miss, ya lost?”


She considers throwing Blasty and telling him to get lost. Considers it a lot.


“Nah, just poking around my training spot, you know, the one I’ve been steaking out for the last few months.”


And to that he sorts. “Damn kids and their sports… we ain’t gunna be here long.”


She hears it and turns. And is able to see it even though the boxes around her are taller than she is. It’s beeping is so deep her bones feel like they’re rattling, sand crunches, and inching across the shore, is the biggest truck Greens seen. The really really big rig drags across the sand, coming to a stop a ways away, the other side of this clearing/Tetris mess, and Green’s gapping, just a little.


“’nother shipment. Damn my life…” The Rocket spits to the side, then remembers her. “D- Drat. I mean drat.” And yeah Greens smirking at Archer and he scowls down at her. “Look, we’re gonna be here, day or two…”


Tauros droppings. And Mask will skip to the nearest police station hand in hand with Lance, right now. Green checks her phone, and nope, not on the news. She also checks the time, not as much as she’d like to train, but boxes and displaced Team Rocket movers and all that’d seemed interesting.


“So you need to leave. And… like not trainer here, for… however long you see these.” The Rocket sweeps an arm, indicating the boxes. “Capiche?”


“No clue what that means,” Green says, she can guess, but no one’s ever just said it out straight and she’d a bit curious. “But I can go train somewhere else.”


“Good, and it’s not nice Italian for “got it or I’ll rip your arms off”.”


“I’ll remember to ask your Boss that, next time he calls.” Green jeered, skipping back a bit and watching him go curiously paler. She didn’t know he could go paler. Wow.


“The fu-Frick you will! Gah, just go!” And he’s waving her off and with a laugh, she goes.


She finds a spot of beach close enough she can see the boxes and people working around them if she squints and far enough they can’t see her mess up when she does.


Win-win.


So since she doesn’t have a ton of time she makes training play. And the beach becomes the scene of a water fight. Blasty kicks it up by falling to Nido’s provocative tial whips. One too many and the turtle is chasing Nido across the beach, rumbling. The turtle’s shoulder cannons spraying a gentle gush instead of steel breaking force, curring lines in the sand. Horsea’s wrapped around Green’s arm like an animate laser tag gun, practicing her land shooting with water, not ink, because it’d been a nightmare on her clothes that last time. And they chase each other around and make a muddy mess of everything.


Seeing where this is going, Ditty quivers into the form of a pink and off pink striped umbrella to wait the “training” out.


Nido’s got a killer aim, chomping on mud, rolling it in her snout, and spitting mug balls behind her. A few rounds of that ended with Green hiding behind Blasty. Inspiration struck and she scrambled up the shell. Perched on a canon, she lets Horsea go wild. Sliding them down the turtle’s shell when Nido tried to retaliate with a mud ball. It hits. Blasty, in the face, and the turtle hunkers low, forelimbs glowing. The surge of sea that sweeps everyone and everything off their feet is waist high and glowing slightly, meaning it’s Blasty’s surf, and something shrills. A scream, that comes and goes. It’s probably a stupid winggull, good riddance. Scraping off his new mask of mud, Blasty gargles a few bubbles, and Green pronounces him the winner.


All bad feelings are forgiven and the turtle indulges a spat of preening never mind he’s a turtle, not a bird.


“Come on champ’,” Never mind Red was technically Champion, he’d never fought against Blasty. She’d snap his title off of Red faster than that one time she got his wallet. Green slaps Blasty’s shell, hard enough he’ll feel it as a pat. “Let’s head back.”


And her and her waterlogged team go to the main beaches, with its sidewalk paths and shower stations. The regular beachgoers give her a look for hogging all the public showers but tough, and they’re adlibbing a rain dance by shooting off water guns at the sky and sloshing the worst the mud off.


Green starts to head home, wet and smiling, recalling her team, until she gets to Ditty’s too light ball..


And…


Oh no….


The scream… at the beach… that wasn’t a bird.


“Oh crap oh crap….” She runs back like the world is on fire. Because while Ditty can turn into something that can float he could only float for so long.


Once she hits the familiar waterlogged spot she calls out Blasty who is unamused by her order that they need to start searching, now. Still, they go. When she does find Ditty he’s a pink rubbery ducky on the ocean, that “Dits” at her sullenly, instead of squeaks or quacks like it should.


“I’m so so sorry.”


And Ditty looks at her, beady eyes hurt, shrugging out of his bouncy to settle awkwardly in her lap before scrolling up to nudge against her stomach. Familiar with Ditto hugs she snuggles him close.


“Thanks for forgiving me.”


Black eyes consider her, thinly, before he spreads across her waist, shimmering into…


Huh, he can turn into a belt. Neat. It’s white, with pink and baby blue stripes, clashes horribly with her black shorts and tee-shirt but… He’s glaring at her from the belt buckle with slit eyes. Then he ripples a layer of sequins into existence around his edges. Rainbow ones.


“I said I’m sorry!”


Another row appears a neon green one.


“Ok how about ice cream? I got enough allowance to get us that? You pick, any flavor, any size.”


Beady eyes consider her… the neon sequins look like overlong, weird eyebrows… Then with a “Dit” he slumps into his familiar pink form, blobbing on her leg and clearly wanting pets.


So she indulges him, and they go to a mom and pop ice cream and amuse the staff by carrying him over the tubs so he can look at each flavor. Then once he wiggles ascent over the sherbert she takes him to the cone wrack. Sure he’s going to pick the rainbow sprinkle ones. He always does.


Ditty tumbles free, oozes back to the giant, Green sized, tub and chirps up at her.


“I am not getting you a tub bigger than me.”


“Dit!”


You got brain freeze the last time I got you a jumbo cone… you’ll freeze solid. Anyway, we can’t eat all that! And we can’t resell it; you need licenses and stuff to do that!” Because hoo boy Green’d gotten that lecture when Mum caught her selling excess “trainer goods” from her travels. “And free- frid- cold boxes, those are bad and we’d need like one bigger than that barrel!”


And does Ditty come to some sense and shimmy up to a cone? No. He wraps around the tub and looks at her, beady eyes going wet and runny.


And the staff are.. well they aren’t even trying to not laugh their heads off. Thank goodness it’s quiet today or there’d be patrons and Green opens her mouth. She’s got the pokeballs here, and what she says should go, right?


And Ditty snuffles.


“I’m uh… I’m gunna make a call.”


Green slips out, and after a span of walking back and forth a bit, weighing her options she knows what mum and da will say… But she’s got someone else to call, and if she words it right… Maybe he’ll fold. He’s just got to be busy and she’s got to be charming and lie a lot. Only one of those requires luck so she’ll roll the dice and see how it goes.


So she calls his personal line and she woke him up, alright, not a good start. But she might be able to swing it.


“I need like…” The cashier helpfully spins the screen around so Green can read off of it. “One hundred ninety-nine dollars and fifty cents.”


He asks her what time she thinks it is in Hoenn. In a tone that indicates he’s got less than four hours of sleep thanks to her and he’s thinking about sending hitmen, with guns...


And Blasty’s just wheeled the barrel from off the counter and easing it to the floor. With a squeal Ditty slithers in and shifts so he can have proper jaws to bite. He looks like a slime-bottomed trapinch.


“Of course it’s for finding Sil- Why else would I call asking for money?”


He gives his card number out, eventually; and the charge doesn’t bounce so it’s a real account. Mew be praised. Though considering Giovanni’s history with mew… Celebi be praised? It’s more to shut her up, Green’s sure, but it worked.


Until Giovanni wakes up fully, realizes she did ask for money, and then looks up where the charge came from.


Then she’s in hot water.


But until then, Green sighs watches as Blasty digs a frosty Ditty out and then takes a scoop out of the barrel to sample the goop within. The turtle’s stub tail wags and well… not too much will go to waste, right?


“Can I have a spoon, and a bowl and a ‘mon-human table please?”


Because Green is not missing out on free ice cream, even if Giovanni kills her for it later. The cashier passes her three of everything and a wad of napkins. Maybe thinking the ‘mon will eat nice and civilized.


They don’t. And Green’s nursing a tummy ache and brain freeze when she waddles home right around sunset.


And she gets another week added to her grounding even though she’s obviously sick before getting sent to her room to sleep off her “illness”.


She dreams of the ocean and wakes up with a taste of salt spray on her lips and eyes burning and wondering why.

 

[K_S]

AN: Sorry I needed a fluff chapter from before. The next few are going to be rough. Green has a bad flashback, triggered by her feeling unsafe, and it gets ugly in her head and out of it. Reality get a bit wierd.


TW: flashbacks, discussed violence, brainwashing.


“Don’t forget your MP3 today.” Mum orders, before Green can head out. I’d been their most recent bribe. A reward for copping out and not defending herself when they dug into the “Mask Story”. And Green’d taken it, more to have something nice to sell it in a week or two than because she wanted it. She wasn’t even going to take it out of the box, that’d add to its value. But Mum had done it for Green. Pinning it right and center on Green’s backpack strap so the painted flower on it looked best.


“Fanciest flower pin ever Mum.” Green laughed. “You know without a charge and songs in it it’s worthless, right?”


“Sometimes utility isn’t everything.” Mum huffs then runs a hand over the too shiny thing, once sure it’s set she reaches up, ruffles Green’s hair. “I’ll talk to your Father. Maybe we can bend our punishment a bit, you normally don’t act up, so I get two days ago was a fluke… So, maybe tonight, after dinner, we can put some songs in.”


“Alright,” Green doesn’t even care, but if it makes them happy... “Let me know.”


Then she’s off, jogging to school because it’s not that far from home, and on the way there she might have “accidentally” drawn Nido to make it a race. Nido wins, and at the crosswalk, before the entranceway, Green recalls her with a “You only won cuz you cheated, good girl!” And then, Nido’s gone, lost in a swirl of red light, her tail wiggle and after image in Greens eyes when she blinks.


Just a regular day.


As she walks in Green pops the MP3 player in a pocket. Mum might have forgotten, but the school had some strict policies about electronics and she doesn’t want to have to lie about a permission note that doesn’t exist. So she keeps it in her pocket and forgets about it for a bit.


When Da’ comes home, early and pale and grumbling about some obscene art in his office, well Greens there to greet him. Da’ shakes off his malaise when he sees Green, at home, taking an off day from training and not in her room. The MP3 player is in her hands. It was shiny, screen and something in the flower's depths glinted when it was tilted and Green’d been trying to figure out why. Mum hadn’t been home, so she’d sprawled on the couch and seeing him…


Green flashed him an apologetic smile, moved to get up, but Frank waves it off.


“I know I’m supposed to be in my room but I… Just needed a break from it.”


And Frank knows, understands. She’s not a bad girl for wanting a different scene. He sits beside her because she’s still small enough and he’s hardly a big man and the couch is meant for three.


“Like it?”


“Definitely shiny. Snea’d have a field day, she liked to pop Silver’s phone in her mouth when if shined, we had to fuss with all the settings so it wouldn’t… so she wouldn’t...”


And she’s smiling fondly, missing Silver but just needing a day off.


Her stomachs still a little sore too, so yeah, off day today. The fact she had nothing but review cemented it for her though she hadn’t told either one of her parents about that. Was undecided if she was going to.


“Say,” Da’ touches her knee, smiling brightly. “How about we get that downloading done? Just so it’s not a pretty doo-dad.”


“Legally?”


“Greeeen.” Because he knows she knows about their many many illegal tv stations. “Not every media we consume is under the table, alright?“


So Green starts sing-songing shows they shouldn’t be able to get, while Da laughs and tells her to cut it out, or at least make it to a show tune. To that challenge, Green accepts while he boots up his computer and sets the site up.


“This thing is a special MP3 player. Super durable, so you can take it training, can take a pikachus thunder I think, but because it’s special it only takes certain types of files.” He explains when she comments this isn‘t a site she recognizes. It’s not mainstream anything. Like off-off mainstream, it’s so off its stagnant greywater.


“I think we need to run a virus checker.”


There are weird ads. And not adult weird ads. There are security systems, anti Rocket blurbs, and considering Giovanni’s last visit and shows of jerk tendency…


Maybe Da had put some things together but wasn’t talking.


Well if he’d ordered some of this clickbait Green should probably chip in by taking down her shock-bell. Preferably before some poor delivery person rang in and got a jolt.


She’d meant to do it right after Giovanni tripped it, pass it off as a science project but… it sorta slipped her mind.


Then she’d gotten in trouble and sneaking out to take it down just didn’t seem worth the trouble.


“Go wild, I’ll be right back.”


And since Da was going to the bathroom, well Green decided she might as well get a time frame. Some of those ads had said Da’d got something already. So the delivery could be any day now.


And since it was Greens day off she didn’t really want to do it today, but she needed to make sure because knowing her luck she might have to. A few clicks and she had da’s email open because he never bothered to log out. It was too easy.


She doesn’t get past the first page.


She’s clicked the email closed, flipped through the music site, and makes a show of being bored when Da returned.


“It’s all so old.”


“It’s classic, sweetheart.”


“Classically boring”


And Green wrestled the impulse to glance worriedly at the “charging” camera-tracker device. Wondering if it can sync to the computer and read Da’s history.


If it can she’ll claim she made a mistype. If they call her out on spying, she’ll make that her excuse. She was in and out. The excuse might fly.


Maybe, hopefully.


She is so screwed.


Green picked two songs at random, then “remembered” she had homework. Da’ smiled and let her go, Mum would be home soon and she should trot so she wasn’t caught.


“No plans of that.” She promised.


So… so screwed.


At dinner Mum asks a new question, a jarring one, and Green wonders how many computers this stupid thing can talk to at once.


Because it’s so pointed, and prying.


“Why aren’t you talking to anyone?” Then she backtracks at Green’s scowl. “I mean you never bring anyone over. Never talk about anyone in school…”


And Green remembers. Silver curled beside her, both snuggled under a stolen tarp while Blasty chuffs across the water. Backward. Because hydro pumping across the water if fun and faster. Magicarp fly up and over Blasty’s shell while they squawk and squeal because Blasty meant it, he had. And Green was lecturing the turtle while Silver is nudging flopping fish back into the water.


Apologizing as he does so, the dork.


“We don’t have to be mean.” He’d explained. “It’s… nice.”


Then he’d called out Sneasel. And yes, it made it colder, but it was so pretty when the ice type dipped a claw into the sea making a lacework of fragmenting snow and slush spread out behind them. The Magicarp bonk through the skein, sometimes slipping and sliding behind and beside them, like the world’s worst ice skaters.


“I’m still in trouble, aren’t I?” Because this was a stupid and incriminating question, the timing alone. Mew, she is not stupid young anymore. Green took a bite of something tasteless and swallows with a few chews.


She’s counting in her head, bites, and chews, minimal needed to not choke and get done.


Because if she stays… if she stays….


She reaches back, for a memory in her head because she needs something, something to keep a bright smile on her face, or at least keep from crying, It’s an old trick, method acting, but what she digs up is more real, more weighted, then the real moment. And for a second she’s there, not here, and she’d rather be there… So bad..


With a cry Sneas’ lunges almost over Blasty’s back. They both grab an icy leg, wheel her back. And Sneasel doesn’t fight them. Rolls around, a fish in her mouth, the tail flip flipping at them like a wrong tongue. Green sees its’ dotted, then the dark type spits it out. Catching the fish between gleaming claws and caged in her grip she spins around, dipping it into the water, in and out, again and again, chirping to herself.


In, splash, chirp, out. In, splash…


It takes Green a few repetitions to recognize it, and she laughs.


“Oh my Mew, she’s vroom vrooming it!”


“She’s what?” Silver sputters. “I only did that once, she wasn’t even out!” And he’s blushing.


About something so small, so stupid, he really is a dork.


And the warmth snuffs out, going cold… because Green remembers…


There’d been a mission that they failed due to their “unchildlike behavior”. Cozying up to some social worker who was a collector of something Mask had wanted. And they failed it somehow, royally freaking the poor old woman out. Mask had gotten the thing he wanted, with Will, and Will’d left a body because it was Will.


And after reading the woman’s report Mask had quoted the woman’s own concerns like it was their fault and hauled them into an empty cell, left them, then returned with a box. Mask crackled and glistened as he moved, all ice today, and in claws of ice had flipped the box to let spill a mess of bright, irrelevant things.


“Play.” He’d ordered. Intending to stand watch over them while they did so so he could “correct” them.


And perhaps he’d been flabbergasted that neither knew how.


Well, Green knew, but Silver didn’t and Green wasn’t doing anything for Mask unless a stint in Brown’s room was in the offing. …


Green chokes down five bites, minimal chewing because even sorta choking hadn't happened then. So it might ground her in now. She counts, guesses really, in desperation. Five more to go. It’s a big meal and Green can’t enjoy it. Even its warmth makes her feel sick when it’s Mask behind her eyes every time she blinks and she can feel the ice on her hands.


And she needs to count and not talk, just pick up chew and not talk…


And then she’ll be free.


And she’s in a cave, digging through the bright things, sorta remembering, and she digs up something with wheels. A ice rimmed truck, maybe pink maybe red. She hands it to Silver and he just holds it, testing its heft with a quick toss to himself.


“Not a ball.”


She guilds his hands so the things flat on the floor, wheels down, and she guilds his hands while Mask watches.


“Back and forth and you go vroom vroom when you do it.”


He looks up at her, teeth chattering, namesake eyes wide and wild.


“Why?”


“Cuz that’s what little boys do? I guess? Only saw it on TV there weren’t any boys where… before.”


Because they didn’t have homes or families, and this explanation is like walking on thin ice with a sharkpedo waiting in the waters underneath.


“Now this, I had something like this. Always dressed it up on blue, though I never froze mine.”


What’d been the doll’s name? Green couldn’t remember.


“You hug dolls, cuz’ they’re soft and small,” Green concluded.


“And you Vroom this thing?”


“It’s a truck Sil’.”


“You Vroom the truck.”


“Yeah.”


And ice crackles, the Mask is grinding his fangs, and the sharkpedo under the ice is hungry, so hungry. She’s going to be with Brown tonight before dinner, Green’s sure.


“Sweetheart?” Da chimes in, and Green blinks back tears for things past rather than here and now. “We sent you to the new school, there’s no one?”


And her mouth opens the truth spilling out, even though she’s not seeing him, just the room, and the Mask.


“I… I just.. they aren’t trainers.”


“And we agreed you needed to try new things.”


And she’d nodded at them, stupid, nodded along. And had no one else to blame but herself she guessed.


And she blinks and…


And Silver’s trying the noise, around shivers.


The wheels were cheap and thin. Didn’t like the hoarfrost and gloves made him clumsy. The toy went skittering away, too far, and Silver goes still. Barely wincing, barely breathing, and not daring to look up even. He bares his back, going flat, expecting claws, not wanting a fall after being scratched, but nothing happens.


Save Mask talks.


“Get it.”


Silver does so. Settling against her, rolling the truck back and forth. He’s forgotten the noise but no one says anything. Then, putting a bright-colored block something too young for someone his age he reaches out… Then goes still, waiting for the lash.


Nothing happens. Licking his lips, Silver whispers.


“M.. Master… May I?”


Frozen jaws snap open, with a crack.


“Continue.”


Green hoped they’d froze shut permanently if they dragged this play station without making him talk. Oh well. Silver’s stacking the block on his truck and she nudges him to remind him. His vrooms, are so soft it’s something Green feels rather than hears.


“I had one just like this… before” None of them have home or family so Green leaves it open-ended. “Used to pretend it was sick and I’d take her “to the doctor” and stuff. Wanted a stick-a-soap so bad. They,” Again no families, though it’d been Mum, “said if I was good, cleaned my room without forgetting for five days I could get one over the weekend. So, one day my doll “caught a cold.””


“What happened?” Silver’d picked up the block rolling it in his hands. It was yellow, with smiles and suns and a letter. Though it was too iced to read right now.


“I was stupid, thought if I warmed her I could cure her cold. Made a royal mess in the microwave.”


Silver chuckled, coughing a laugh while Green smirked at the toy. After all, it wasn’t Sil’ that’d screwed up the last job by being “unchildlike”.


And Mask grabs her, hauls her up, he’s had enough. She’s going to Brown’s room and…


And that’s Mum’s hand.


And when reality clicks, solid and real and warm…. There’s a –thank Mew- a fork in Green’s hand, not the knife. Heart hammering, eyes wide, she shakes her head. She wants to scream, “Don’t touch me, don’t talk to me!” but her mouth is frozen shut. She can feel the icicle fingers ringed around her jaw.


He’ll take off her face with his claws if she talks back, he’ll take her face off so she needs her Mask so people won’t scream at seeing her…


Your parents won’t recognize you, Mask promised.


Looking at them, Green can see, crystal clear, that they didn’t not now…


For a while Green stares at them, not recognizing them, but reality comes in bits and pieces. She drops the fork, not caring if the bite on it makes a mess or not.


“’M going to my room.”


She turns on her heel, takes the stairs at a run, and has the door locked behind her before they can follow.


And because she’s not stupid young she shoves the nightstand right, so they can’t shove the door open. They could kick it down she supposed, and curled on the bed, huddled under every blanket she owns she waits, and waits. For someone to come up, knock, or freak out and kick the damned door down.


And her eyes grow heavy in waiting, and she blinks, means to…


She dreams


Sneasel on Blasty’s shell, head tipped up, mimicking the Rocket Ariana’s walk. Fish tail flip-flopping out of her mouth like the world's wrongest cigarette. Like that awful Godfather film that’d been running in that one hotel, they broke into.


It just happened to be on, Silver was too young for R-rated movies and after looking up what an R-rated movie was Green was a bit surprised to realize she might be too.


Regardless they’d all seen some of the movie by “accident”. So her and Silver are thinking the same thing. And Silver, Silver lost it.


“Oh my… Sneasel put it down…”


“Hey, is it Sneasel Sakaki? You know people’s ‘mon have their last name in Sevii right?” Green jeers, “so is it “SS”, and if it is how’re we gunna tell you apart on the school rolls?”


“Sneasal’s a ‘mon she isn’t going to school. Schools stupid, I’m not going to... to stupid school.”


“Heey, another SS.”


“Arceus blast it… You’re… you’re so worthless.” And Silver’s grinning and Green is too. So tight it hurts. “Come on Snesne,” He croons his baby name for Sneasel. “Drop it.”


The fishy tail’s flip flipping a lot slower now. Sneasel “sticks” her tongue at them, and slowly, oh so slowly, crosses her bright red eyes.


“Drop it.” Silver stomps a foot and Blasty rolls his head up at them, curious.


The dark type bit instead, bit through the whole fish and technically dropped the tail. She swallowed the head in one gulp.


“Oh ewww.” Green whined because there was fishy blood dripping down Sneasal’s chin.


“Why?” Silver moaned. “No,” Because Sneasal picked up the tail in her glittering claws. “Sneasel, no, no, I don’t want the still flopping bloody tail bit! Snesne,” And oh Sneasal’s whipped out a pair of puppy eyes that’d make a growlithe proud and Silver, sap he is, softens. “Yes, I love you. Course I do but…” And Sneasal’s approaching, tail held in claws, claws held high in an obvious offering. “And… No I don’t want you to feed me… No! Green, help!



Snea’s chasing them around Blasty by the end of it. They skip along the turtle’s shell, almost falling, never going over. Sneasel’s hopping after them on one foot to make it fair. The tarp is whipping behind them like a cloak and Sneasal decides she’s done with fair. She’s on both feet now and still bouncing, because she likes bouncing sometimes, so why not?


And the first person she pounces is going to get that fish tail.


Silver flips her, when she pounces, shocking them both. Blasty fishes her out, and as thanks, Sne’ shares the fish with the turtle, who takes the nibble with a rumble of thanks.


Silver recalls Sneasal before she can decide to be inspired by Blasty’s thanks and try to feed them again.


XXX


Green wakes up at six, expecting Yellow to call her because it’s that time. When she reaches for her phone and finds nothing, no stand, no phone, she panics. She can’t find the nightstand and…


And she’d not cold, she’s hot, there are so many blankets.


Then memory sinks in and Green flops back on the bed, among holiday blankies and summer sheets and… And she presses her palms into her scrunched-up eyes. Unable to stop the crying and not really caring if they hear.


The door hadn’t even been nudged, the locks still locked, no one turned the key, and the nightstand’s not disturbed. She can’t hear the soft sounds of someone taking watch on the other side, or sleeping even…


And at that moment she’d sold anything, stolen anything for… For Yellow to call, half asleep and worn. Talking to Yellow would… it’d be like being able to breathe. She needed her, needed Silver, anyone. She needed… Green fumbled at her belt and didn’t care, just threw. Nearly hit the window with the balls’ recoil and didn’t care about that either.


She got Jiggly, got lucky.


And she’s crying and shaking and… And she smiles at Jiggly, because how can you not?


”Sing for me, please.”


And blue eyes wide and concerned, Jiggly opens her mouth, closes it, and then flutters over for cuddles. Pointedly not singing, just snuggling.


Green really shouldn’t have stolen those badges; this wouldn’t be a problem if she hadn’t… And her hands are scrolling up and down Jiggly’s crown of curly cue fur. Back and forth, round and around, until her eyes get heavy and she falls asleep hugging Jiggly tight.

 

[K_S]

She’d taken her run to the box pile, zipping and dodging about, chasing Nido and being chased, ignoring the grumbled complaints. There were more, and they were spread wider, taller, machamp and ‘kaun’s doing most of the lifting, their trainers watching on, consulting clipboards and double-checking some figure or other as the ‘mon worked. Ignoring them, and calling Nido off of a machamp, she’d playfully head-butted, then went deeper in.

Baying.

Well, she couldn’t in town, by the house, noise complaints were a thing so Green’d usually let her go wild on the beach. And wasn’t going to let some Rocket Tetris game beak that routine.

The poor worker ‘mon was toweling itself off when Green padded up to it to actually apologize. Because she’d wronged him, well Nido did, and she wasn’t rude to ‘mon as a rule of thumb. The grey beast’s arms were busy, still, it watched her approach, ridged head tipped in an inquiry when she stopped beside it.

“Well, I just…”

One arm, scraping sand off its legs another was cradling a water bottle that looked like it held two gallons and the last unscrewing the bottle’s lid, all while the first arm was rubbing sweat off the back of it’s neck. The display of that much multitasking made her train of thought barrel off into the lands of incoherency. Shaking her head, Green flashed the amused ‘mon a smile.

“She’s just super playful, and I’m sorry she bugged you. She didn’t scratch you, right? I got antidotes if she did.”

“Ma.” The towel was flipped at her, a dismissal and an irrelevant one at that.

More deep rumbled barks and a familiar voice sounded.

“Oi, didn’t I just kick your sorry spiny arse out of my work zone last week?”

And by the responding tone, Nido’d found her man. And was irritating the hell out of him. Good, if she tackled Archer they were golden.

“Sooo…” swaying a bit, smally hoping that whoever was watching was motion sick and they were getting sick right now, Green fluttered her eyelashes at the fighting type. “Can you type? Like… like how you just did everything else, all at once?”

Not having eyebrows did not keep the smooth-skinned beast from raising an eyebrow at her Green learned. The skin bunched in the right place where a ‘brow would be. The ‘mon took a drink, red eyes squinting almost fully shut, the red edge following her though she was just standing there.

“Oh come on… you don’t get it I’m in school, you could like type twice as fast as me, you got four arms. You could do two papers at once and that… that’s... do you know how much time you’d save me?”

Pulling the drink back, eyes wide, the machamp looked at her like she was a rabid rattata.

From somewhere there came a thud, sand was flying surely and the machamp looked at her, looked to the direction of the ruckus, each motion slow and pointed.

Fine, fine, Green got it…. Still, she could ask.

“Hey, if you ever want to do a nice indoor cushy job, I’m a trainer; I can catch something and trade with your trainer. Think of it, AC, indoor job, only gotta type a few hours a day. Weekend likely off. Holidays. And when you’re done you could go to the beach, like really go to the beach.” Twirling her hair Green sweetened the pot best she could, thinking of macho beach things to do, and listing them off. “You know, swim around, punch sharkpedos in the face, surf, and there’d be no moving boxes, no smartasses singing Tetris at you while you work-“ Because the Kaunga’s had been doing that, she’d passed two doing it when she’d run in. “So… Think about it?”

And the machamp as thinking about… something… from the furrow on it’s face. Finally, setting the drink down it pointed, first at her, then to the sound of the quieting fuss and made a sweeping motion with the towel.

“Ung, you’re no fun”.

It threw the towel at her, even though she was going. Sour Persian… no sour purugly, the machamp was as ugly as one anyway.

She might have stuck her tongue out on her way out. Making the sand attack he tossed at her mildly understandable, but only mildly.

She found Archer as he was looking for her. Hand fisted in Nido’s collar, the poison type hauled to an awkward bi-pedial stance, he shook Nido a bit then looked up to see her approaching.

“So the champion returns, how’s the tummy ache?”

Well, nice to know Giovanni was keeping his underling in the know about everything really important. Archer probably had orders to give her hell, but there was caution in his face, and something that might have been concern.

“I’m so sorry Mr. Capone.” It wasn’t subtle but the Rocket huffed, straightening his cap and nodded. “She really likes you and keeps luring me this way and… well…she’s fast.”

“I thought my foreman told you not to play around here, s’not safe, you could get lost?”

“He said something like that. But it’s been ages!” Green shook her head in mock frustration, then tipped her head, indicating the strap and the MP3 player she had to take with her every time she went out. Archer’s eyes thinned as he considered the device, perhaps recognizing the tech.

“An’ bein’ safe, I’m sure your folks would say it’s worth it’s weight-“

“In Silver,” Green completed the saying wrong, deliberately. This wasn’t about money, she wasn’t asking for more, and that better tell him because she couldn’t think of any other way to say it.



“Sayin’gs gold, pretty thing.”

“Silver’s prettier makes better jewelry.”

Irrelevant, natural-sounding please let it be those things.

She couldn’t see how pale she was. How her eyes were a bit too wide and set too deep. Archer considered her, green eyes thin and crafty.

“You might wanna get a new collar for your Nido, slipped loose, took me so long cuz I had to work it back on.”

He let Nido go, who once loose, settled on all fours. Trotting to Green, circling, the poison type set her snout on her trainer's thigh. Thorns spread wide, ears quivering, limbs tensed to pivot between Green and anything really. Returning her ‘mon done Archer slid his hands in his pockets, and the papers in them, her papers, please let him have found them, crinkled under his thick fingers.

“Thanks, I… might do that.”

Nido snarled, either at a ‘mon or worker Green didn’t check, and Archer flicked his gaze off of her to whoever it was, voice going loud. “Oi, you wise guys, go back to work!” Softening his tone and expression a bit the Rocket flicked his gaze down to her. “Can I walk you out?”

“Please,” and he sets his arm on her shoulder, leading her away from the area he’d been working. Curious, but right now Greens’ not going to look into anything. “umm is there an exit by Mall Street? Collars, you know?”

“Course there is.” They turn a bit westerly. “How else you think we get our chow delivered out here hot?”

“Magmar delivery?” It was a ghost of her old sass and to that Archer flicked her a tight, half-smile.

“Glassed sands are a pain in the a- rump- Rump! To dig up. Be unsafe, ya know?”

“…” And it’s pointed, he’s asking if she is and… And Green swallows, unable to get anything like a reassurance out. “So. This is going to be a bit rude?”

Archer huffs, affecting fondness with the sound. “Alright, nothin’ new.”

“Oh shut up.” And she nudges him, barely resisting to take his wallet, her hands twitch the impulse is so strong. “You heard about that domestic disturbance, earlier this month?”

“Yep, cousin Sal’s on the police force, he mentioned it.”

“Would he know the officer who did the stakeout at my place? I… Nido’s just been so naughty and I was thinking… I should say sorry, you know. She… uh… thought he was… you know that fake gym leader coming back and she bit the officer… in the a-rump?”

And yes, Green’s not being subtle in her dig, and Archer’s trying not to laugh. Clearly not having heard about the Rocket getting chomped and clearly amused by the news.

“So… if ya wanna bribe Sal to get him to pass along an apology card, you gotta know about Sal’s misses. Girl loves flowers, loves loves ‘em. But Sal’s allergic as hell, so he can’t get his own. So you get him some, wrap ‘em up good so he can’t smell ‘em, and he’ll nip whatever letter you want up to the top.”

They pass the last two box towers and are, and if Green squints she can see past the beach and the tall buildings in the distance are probably the Mall, she’s almost a hundred percent anyways.

“Kid.” The hand squeezes her, and she looks up, and he’s looking down, humor dimmed, face serious. “Don’t come playin’ here, capisce? Really not safe for kids. Today was slow. Tomorrow might not be.”

Properly chastised Green nodded.

“I won’t.”

“Unless there’s some creep followin’ you or something. Then me an’ the boy’s can make ‘em think twice. So about those flowers… the misses, she’s a bit of a clean freak. So don’t send anything with any little dots or nothin’ unless you’re desperate and cant’ find anything else, hm?”

“No dots unless I want to cause a row, got it!” Green chuckled.

And Archer shoves her, not too rough, almost fond. “Get.”

Green goes.

XXX

Giovanni was working from within his lavish office attached to the Indigo Plateau. Had been there all day despite not wanting to be.

But his ties to the league had to seem legitimate; hence he had to put a sincere effort in from time to time.

Today was one of those days. The “luxury” Lance had insisted that working League members have, was a private office he never visited. One with stand-by staff, all so that a gym leader could dedicate their full energies to their gyms, League meetings, and training.

Normally Giovanni had found the staff an irritant. His interactions with Lance were abrupt, to the point, and normally required little more than a signature and five minutes. He’d nip in, get out, and they’d not be summoned.

Most had no clue what he looked like, which was how the Rocket liked it.

Today was not meant to be like any other day. His staff had sent watchmen over the league doors, the second he’d walked in they’d been a swarm of yowling, growlithe. Their whines and whimpers were for their lively hoods. And they’d begged assurances that he wasn’t going to fire them, some of the younger going down on their hands and knees to properly grovel.

Clearly, the dissolution of the elite four was having some unique trickle-down effects on the plateau staff.

Regardless this bowing and scraping was not conducive to getting his errand done, unobserved.

On the site of such a pathetic ambush, surrounded by their hopeful faces, he’d almost assured them, one and all, that they were being sacked.

Almost.

But that’d of caused a worse scene. A need to call security. He was so crowded he’d have to claw out a path to the front door, or more likely break a window, to get enough room to summon something, anything… Even Beedrill would have issues and the bug was not meant for crowd control of his magnitude…

And he was half convinced some of them were not his employees, he recalled one of the loudest whiners hanging on Agatha’s arm at once conference and…

And he couldn’t quite risk sullying his philanthropic front by being seen as heartless in public.

Though it set his teeth on edge, attention was not what he wanted. This mission was clearly not going to go how he wanted it so he let go of his expectations to deal with the disaster before him.

He’d demanded his Head Servant be summoned and sent the rest of the mob pointless errands. Mainly a microscopic deep clean of his office.

This was ridiculous, the man’s title was a holdover for an archaic position, and it was too much considering Giovanni had two rooms he used. If he had to inventory everything he used he could tab on the view over a garden he’d occasionally look over. Mainly to scoff at the rampant greenery, that was a bleed over from Erika’s office next door.

He needed five people for cleaning, maybe two gardeners for the whole spread. Though if he were given free leash he’d order the staff to rip out everything living and put down a nice rock garden and then he’d of fire'd them after. But Lance technically ran everything, and technically Lance wasn’t a wanted criminal.

Just wanted for questioning.

So, unless Giovanni took over Kanto’s league, he could not make any sweeping changes. Which had led to a mob of people living in perpetual terror of unemployment which in turn led to… this ambush. Him losing a day’s meaningful labor.

Suffice to say Giovanni Sakaki was not a happy man.

Instead of the reasonable count of say six people max, there were thirty here, perhaps more, mewling about their jobs. Poking in to ask if he wanted anything and hanging onto his coattails like a nest of joltiks smelling a ten pack of batteries.

Disgusting.

The Rocket resigned himself to scouting out Lance’s quarters at a later date and working on legitimate League affairs until he could get this madhouse in order.

So when he’d dismissed the workers (temporarily, he’d had to tag on, his word choice near setting them into a panic) after they were done cleaning his offices to a level they looked new Giovanni had hauled his Head Servant into his office and made the man pick out three staff. A go-fer, a gardener, and someone with a spread of talents for any odd jobs that might arise. All three had to be discrete. He’d tolerate no media leaks, and if any dared…

Tone and a glower filled in the blanks nicely.

Then he told the man to give him all the staffs’ files.

He’d cull through this mess, pick those with the appropriate ties to Rocket, and send the rest to Surge, Sabrina, and Koga’s offices.

And any firings that occurred would be after their transfer, thus sparing his image.

And the Head Servant was an elderly man, with more wit than his underlings, and perhaps some sympathies for said underlings. Perhaps he saw the writing on the wall or was a bit emotional per some subtle mental decline. Regardless when the man tried to wheedle and charm a heart of stone, touting about this ones’ skills in cleaning, that souls cooking, Giovanni enunciated his demand in crystal clear language.

He would do his personal assessment alone, without help.

And it was more to shut the man up than anything that he’d sent the Head Servant off to order one of the “best cooks in Kanto” to put “something together”.

He’d been mildly impressed by the spread when it comes, though, like the Persian he was occasionally depicted on the media, he was not overt in his surprise or pleasure. Dismissing both Head and cook and lackey that’d lay the spread out with a gesture he’d taken a break from his work to eat. Staff members neatly sorted, their files folded up, and to be delivered to their appropriate new Head of Houses to start their culling. And while eating, he’d retrieved one of the files. He’d decided to keep four of the staff on hand instead of three, the woman’s cooking, (the Head’s granddaughter, reading of her files confirmed) was skilled enough to have earned some leniency.

Also, she was unencumbered with any ties that’d led her to be used in assassination or power plays or would be once Archer had paid her and her family a little visit.

Speaking of Archer, the man came in after he’d finished eating. Timing impeccable as always. He’d just set his utensils aside when the Executive had rapped on his door. Dressed in a spare uniform of the soon to be ousted staff, the man had bowed and shunt himself to one side while Giovanni called in the real workers. One of the go-fers to sweep up the dinner service, another to take a note to the Head Servant informing him to reach out to all League associates that were on Giovanni’s housekeeping staff and inform them they were on temporary leave, starting immediately. An agent from Viridian Co’ would be in contact to inform them of their new locations and duties, and he’d need the keys of the office left at the front desk, he’d close up shop, personally, when he was ready to go.

One finger atop the two glasses kept the staff from whisking them away, and the Rocket waited until the mareep was out the door, each preoccupied with their own errands and shock, never noting their “newest” member. Once the door shut he gestured for Archer to sit across from him. Filling the cups while his subordinate settled, watching the thick smoky Hoenn wine slosh and sizzle into place. Archer waited until his Boss had taken the first draw before indulging his own, as was proper, though the man grimaced at the flavor.

“How’s Sevii?”

“Hot.” The man grunted, setting the glass aside, looking at the fluid with a bitter look. He hated dry wines but it went so well with Giovanni’s repast he’d just have to endure. “And ripe for gutting.”

It was the best news Giovanni’d gotten all day.

After taking a moment to loose one of Archer’s ghastly to do a sweep for anything living and drive whatever if found out of the building both men settled and spoke business. Archer reported of his feelers tightening their hold in the varied small business that’d either been prone to corruption or held to old familia loyalties and were weary of miming the social niceties the League and Governments slapped down on them. The tariffs and fines by merely being related to old Associates and outed Executives of the previous Rocket elite surely chaffed at the surviving family members.

Well, that’s what you got for failing at an insurgency.

While he’d leave those loyal to Carr to rot or speed off their demises in due time, he’d let Archer make contact with the familiias who’d been loyal to him and been betrayed by Carr’s power plays. Those were fanatically loyal and willing to take risks, made lean by desperation and grudges, those he’d sweep into Sevii’s Rocket branch with open arms and set up as executives if they survived the training process.

“About your… acquisition project.”

None of them called Silver by name, Giovanni’d of killed them for the offense, all the better to keep him out of the police crosshairs if things went bad. Worse.

Archer dug out a file from his vest, while the file was tidy the contents were not. Clippings and loose papers, one poking out and marked with a childish hand. That mess was spread over Giovanni’s desk, sorted by Archer’s calloused hands.

Giovanni suddenly wanted a stiffer drink than the one before him, but there’d been nothing stronger in the League stores.

“I thought we had banned Petrol from paperwork.”

“Yes sir, we have. Would you believe the br- Green’s handwriting’s worse?”

Well, ice and nerve damage had to show somewhere. Giovanni set his unfinished drink aside despite the temptation and suspicion this was going to be bad news.

And it was.

Giovanni considered the rather ratty papers. The first, a crossword. Certain letters were done in black ink instead of blue, it hadn’t taken long to decode the message and it’d been short and alarming.

Do no call, no text, tracked. And a bit redundant had been the ad clipped and folded inside the crossword. A pseudo mp3 player with a rather… fetching… flower pattern that did little to hide the recording apparatus at its center. Still, despite the redundancy, knowing how was of some use, so he’d not reprimand Green for it later down the line.

“She had it on her, this morning sir. She came by the docking spot and…” Archer lifted a hand, tipping it side to side as if weighing something on his fingers. “She daren’t take it off. Was real guarded. Jumpy.”

Interesting.

Compiling Green’s warning with Yellow’s rather blunt report that ended with the line, “Green’s parents are insane, I think she’s going to bolt.”

Well, it led Giovanni to draw some rather unfortunate conclusions.

His assets, towards his personal retrieval project, were being tinkered with.

While Yellow’s irritants were misplaced members of Flare and easily disposed of, he’d done so personally without alerting the girl to the issue or bodies, Green’s situation was thornier. It wasn’t the first time a Rocket’s parents had been a thorn in his side, and normally he’d manipulated circumstance to isolate the asset and cull the troublesome branches of the family tree away from a promising recruit. Archer had been one. But this was the first time the issue had been born of self-inflicted, bloody-minded, stupidity.

A first, for one and all.

He rose his glass a mute toast, to firsts then, then finished his glass in one pass. Indulgence done he went back to working at the variables.

Regardless of their reasons Green’s parents were going a long way in slowing down the reacquisition of Silver, a deadly place to be.

While letting the boy out of his sight had been his mistake it’d been one born of an unfortunate coagulation of a lack of information, being near death, and having to drop everything to clean house so Kanto and Johto wouldn’t descend into utter anarchy.

When the dust cleared and he’d seen the dexholders at each other’s throats he’d taken pause, and then left the moralists to quibble over morals.

Giovanni backtracked incidents to insanities and found Yellow at the end of one, particularly bizarre investigation. She’d seemed a smart girl, having washed her hands of… how had Green dubbed them… the goodie squad? Regardless, Yellow was a quiet girl, enamored with spirituality and the Forrest, both easy things to appeal to. Certain promises and protections shared between “friends of friends” -as she’d assumed her comradery towards Silver had earned her favors- she’d reached him out to him and proceeded to sell herself so cheap Giovanni’d not have the heart to scalp her further.

And so he’d gotten his first ally.

It was her report he went through, with a grimace and need for a stronger drink that he wouldn’t indulge. Because she was writing him as a “pen pal” to forward what she saw and heard. It was a quaint childish communication that was peppered with detailed drawings. This week’s missive was laced with Weedles. Perhaps in an effort to soften the displeasure her notes, which were Green’s calls to her paraphrased, would rise in him.

Finishing with Yellow’s papers he considered the things of Green that Archer had given him, then took up the man’s much more professional report. Flipping through he flicked his gaze up, amused, and his underling was again weighing something on his fingers when Giovanni came to the end of Archer's report.

“I wouldn’t take her totally out of consideration, all things considered.” Archer defended his decision with surprising warmth.

“Personal history considered?”

She had helped drop a building on them, after all.

“Disillusionment’s pretty useful,” Archer noted. “Hell, worked with me. I think things are heading to a boiling part.”

Giovanni considered that then nodded. “No forced pickup.” He ruled.

Archer hummed. “If she comes back again, spite bein’ told not too?”

“Play it by ear.”

“Sir.” Lifting his glass Archer took a draw, and nearly choked as the taste kicked in.

Yellow had led to Green. And Green, had been a sanctuary, content to house Silver. Giovanni’d been ready to approach, setting a flight to Sevii, and two days before he was to leave, his affairs set in place to run without him for as long as need be…

Fucking Lysander decided to get uppity and try to shake Kanto and Johto’s security. Taking a chunk out of Kanto’s electronic markets, seeding Flare in his businesses and that’d been a disaster that’d take a month to begin to tackle.

And it wasn’t sorted, just at a standstill, because Lysander was a Mandibuzz on a mission and Giovanni’s Region was the dying carrion that caught Lysandre’s eye.

Giovanni just had to trust his son’s networking to hold him afloat for awhile longer. And Silver had been well. Happy even.

Until certain insanities had crept into the picture in the form of denial.

Silver was a smart boy. He’d seen the dangers of his present circumstance and gotten himself out.

Green, unfortunately per understandable attachments, had not.

And that was a nightmare in itself because per Yellow, Silver and Green were inseparable. Silver’s fury and choice of more destructive “pranks” once given his own head and no other around him to serve as a moral chain had been leveled at the people who’d hurt Green, not himself. Giovanni’s “prank” had been an afterthought, perhaps not the first, but the second, definitely.

And while that was promising, a hinting that forgiveness might be in the cards… It was still worrying considering how Sevii was falling apart… at least on a personal level.

He really needed to get things in hand. Excise all human affairs then deal with business. A good arson and shooting with all the right patsy are in place could advance Rocket’s goals and pin the crimes on Flare. He’d have to remember to flag Viridian CO’s humanitarian branches to be prepped to offer what support they could, it’d be a good way to seed Rocket among the island's civilian population and reinforced Archer’s work.

Sensing the meeting was winding down, Archer tilted his head, “Orders, sir?”

“Prepare to return to Sevii, swap your traditional intimidation team for a more balanced spread, and round up six of our cleaner agents. Wait at the international teleport station R1. I’ll meet you there in,” consulting his wristwatch, Giovanni weighed responsibilities to needs. “ Three hours.”

“Sir.” And with a salute Archer stood, moving to sweep up the papers until Giovanni made a noise. The Rocket subordinate froze, fingers barely brushing the papers.

“Leave that.”

After all, Giovanni’d had something of a scrapbook going, might as well add to it.

 

[bluesidra]

Review for Chapter 1​

Hello! I‘ve sadly only managed to get through chapter 1 in the 48 hours. I‘m going to give you feedback on this chapter for the catnip and continue to give feedback once I get through more content.

Ok, so chapter 1 is from Rocket Boss Giovanni‘s perspective, sets up the premise, introduces us to two of the three main characters and lines out the canon divergences.

Spoiler: Characters

Giovanni is… well, Giovanni. It‘s hard to find nice words for a mafia boss. He is depicted as cold, calculating and lacking any empathy. He may act empathic, but that is only to get Green to talk. He reminisced about how he had become a changed man, but, from his other inner monologue, I honestly don‘t believe him. He might have tricked himself into believing he had changed.
He seems to harbour extreme anger towards Pryce (who wouldn't, I hate that man!), which is the only time Giovanni shows emotion in this scene. Though I do not know what the reason for his anger is. He doesn‘t seem to care about his son in a healthy parental way. So I suspect he is only angry at Pryce for taking his son away from his influence.
He also has an eye for detail and a very analytical mind, which he displays when disassembling the roomba and then investigating it.
All in all, you‘ve conveyed a scary, not to be messed with character here.

Green was just as I expected her to be. She is witty, has a sharp tongue and a bad habit of taking on things that are too big for her. Every time she is on screen in any media, I have the intense desire to hug her and tell her that everything‘s going to be alright. Her decisions for and since the canon divergence make absolute sense and are very realistic. (I mean, redeeming Lance is somewhat ok, but Pryce???)

Silver is only seen through his actions. And here I‘m starting to run into a problem with the tone that I‘m not sure if you‘ve intended it. So, Silvers actions seem childish, but show off his skills. This is super ok, because he is essentially a child. But because a Roomba with a knife and it‘s second stage, Roomba with ceiling fan and knives would never make for an effective murder machine, I have to question what his intentions were. To me it feels like he is a small child desperately trying to get attention from his parents, because he lacks the emotional maturity to communicate that need. Which is also very understandable given his past. I just don‘t know if you intended it that way.

Spoiler: Tone

First of, I have to say, if a fic opens with „The Roombas with the knives had been the first incident“, you know you‘re in for a good time.

The tone flips from light-hearted to serious over the course of the chapter. The tone shift for me became obvious once Giovanni stalked Green down and she was legitimately terrified. Which was also the time I got into thinking about the reasons for the Roombas in the first place (see Silver).

This is all well and good, and I really trust you are a good enough author to pull this off. But from what I could gather from the tags, the intro and from skimming though the other chapters, there will be very very mature stuff in here – handled in a good way no less. But once I‘m in that head-space, I start to become over-analytical and then things like the Roombas don‘t feel like a silly prank any more.

Don‘t get me wrong, I don‘t mind the tone of this fic. It was serious where it needed to be, especially with Green‘s part. Just a little warning when mixing light-hearted and heavy stuff.

Spoiler: Style

Grammarly did its job and I didn‘t notice any spelling errors on my read-through. (Also, about using Grammarly: I really appreciate it when authors put in the extra money to polish their work. It shows their dedication to their work and that‘s a quality sign right out of the gates.)

You have a habit of shortening „had“ and „should“ to „‘d“ - something I‘m very used to reading, but only after the standard pronouns. You use those contractions (?) after names, too (Green‘d, Giovanni‘d). Grammatically this is completely valid, it‘s just a thing I found myself stumbling over when reading. I‘m so used to how those names sound, and then I get that contraction there, (that always sounds like you have to gulp btw) and I have to unpack it, in order to get the tense correct in my head. Whereas with the standard issue pronouns, something like „he‘d“ is almost a word on its own where I don‘t have to separate the two to continue reading.

So, as you see, I‘m no english teacher. I‘m not even a native speaker. I don‘t know how most of these grammar-terms are called in english. Please don‘t take my word at face value here.

Sometimes your sentences are harder to read than what I‘m used to. Not everywhere, mind you. But some sentences could use a little restructuring to be easier to follow. I‘ve found you some examples:

A flip through the varied periodicals, after reading about the local break-in, had not gotten him quite what he was looking for. → The clause with „after“ completely breaks the sentence in half. I‘d put it at the start. Then you get the time-frame nailed and done before moving on to what happens in the sentence.

Recalling what he’d learned from various spies and psychics, he turned his attention from local matters to those of far-flung Sevii. → Opening with an „-ing“ is something my ProWritingAid discourages and I can see why. You‘re basically constructing a sentence backwards. This is ok if it happens once every so often and is not wedged between other difficult sentences.

When no feel-good periodical piece popped up, about reunions and heroics, he saluted the girl’s cunning and consulted quieter avenues. → The „about“ clause should go directly behind the „piece“. The way it‘s written here my brain focused on the popping up, only to then have to figure out where the reunions came into play.

I don‘t know if I got used to your writing style or if the issues subsided in the later half, but during the convo with Green, I had way less issues with these things.

Dialogue naturally helps by being shorter and simpler, because there are people talking. It‘s nothing bad to have a complicated sentence once in a while – it even helps to keep the reader engaged – they just have to be between easy to read ones.

Spoiler: Worldbuilding

There‘s not that much in terms of worldbuilding in this chapter, but I‘ll mention what I noted anyways.

Sevii being in a different time-zone than where ever Giovanni is right now is interesting, especially since it‘s a 12h time-difference. That either indicates that you use a totally different world-map for your fic than I do or that Giovanni is very far away from Kanto right now. To me, Sevii was always an inland chain on the coast of Kanto, just like in real life Japan. And somehow, my mind firmly places Giovanni in Saffron City. I liked the introduction of time-zones, though. It makes the world way more grounded in reality.

Giovanni worrying about secure phones and Green being onto it shows a lot about their characters and the world we are dealing with in one swift go. Very cool.

There was only one little nit-pick: Giovanni mentioned that he didn‘t recall sanctioning the break-in. This heavily collides with the picture I‘ve gotten of him so far. I don‘t think the head of the Kanto mafia cares about stuff that mundane. He has his executives for those issues.

All in all, a very riveting opening to your story. You‘ve mentioned that the trigger warnings wouldn‘t come into action until chapter 2. I‘ve read the first paragraphs and – oh boy – I am scared. Like, in a good sense. This is also part of the reason I didn‘t get past chapter 1. From what I see in chapter 2, you‘ve handled those things excellently and with a lot of nuance and respect to character and subject matter. But that also means that I have to get into the right head-space and can‘t just giggle away.

But then again, Silver and Green deserve to get their issues sorted out. They have been through so much and even though the manga did a great job displaying those dark topics, I don‘t think they went deep enough for those two to have a resolution. (Understandable, because the story moved on, but still.)

So yeah, I‘m looking forward to where that story takes me. I usually leave some sort of comment or review on everything I‘ve read, so as soon as I get over my anxiety for what may await me, I‘ll drop in again.

 

[K_S]

review reply for chapter one

Wow, thanks for leaving such a thoughtful and detailed review, it means a lot. here's my reply, roughly line by line.

About Gio: I'll admit writing him is a challenge. Minor spoilers is that he's changed a bit, but not as much as he's thought -he actually admits most of his "change" was him going through motions he thought were apropos for the time, not out of any sincerity, which actually was a small aha/emotional growth moment for himself, sadly-. In his back story, he actually softened when Silver was born and then going full evil after the abduction. So in theory Silver might allow him to regain his humanity per long enough interaction and Gio getting enough reason to apply those changes/perspective to himself.

Right now Gio hasn't honestly and emotionally had to deal with the fact that his position in Team Rocket is going to be a conflict with Silver who is doggedly anti Rocket. And seeing how Gio going to have to deal with deciding between his "job" and "family" is going to be an interesting one

Gio's relationship with anyone isn't horridly healthy as he views people as things. And as an extension, he views Silver as a possession rather than with respectful affection you'd normally level at people.

If he develops enough to have that "huh people aren't things" moment and then realizing he's seeing Silver as a thing, not an individual, and not an individual to be manipulated or groomed... Well if he has that moment it'll be pivotal to whether or not their reconciliation becomes more than a "going through the motions because Silver's mine".

I think so long as he's allied with Green, who will stand up to him, and challenging him, and call his BS, he might actually have a shot with getting enough perspective and humanity back to make it work with Silver, but the tale will tell that tale in full I guess.

Nitpick noted and answered: Gio is a royal control freak in this 'verse he's aware of almost all commercial, and illegal activity in Kanto and Johto, if a crime occurs in either region and isn't Rocket based he might let it slide if it's small, but eventually he's going to take the time to hunt the uppity opportunist down and take steps to either absorb them into team Rocket or make an example of them.

Green: Green's probably the only thing keeping this tale out of the angst/tragedy category. She's going to be the main voice for the fic and while things are bad now and will get worst I'm hoping she gets through to the other side happier and healthier.

A trick I'm trying, with Gio is with emotions is having Green see and interact with him during most of those times when he's being overly emotional and since there's a degree of separation, the reader can't tell what's real or not, because first scene out.. Green can't tell, and she was there...

And after a mild freak out when she realizes she can't tell truth from lies from the Ilex event being paraphrased to her parents she thinks about it and goes....

"Man, he's good. Gotta take some notes here."

Silver: Well you actually got it on one, and dug up something I wasn't going to bring up directly in the tale until much later. Silver is wildly desperate for attention. Is dying for positive affirmation, and (minor spoiler) when trying the "good" way of living doesn't work (him living with Green's folks) he hares off, licks his wounds, and decides to apply what he knows to make things work.

He cuts a shakey middle moral ground between "completing missions" that kept him alive under the Mask, and "acting sassy" like Green, because those two figures were the whole of his world, and takes his young adolescent self into the world and shakes it harder than a villager shaking a tree in animal crossing.

And that's where the pranking and break-ins are coming in, as he's stapled both those ideas together, and this is the end result.

How he pranks people indicates how he feels about them (his towards Oak actually are dangerous, and as you pointed out Gio's are much less so).

But part of why and what he's doing is also a side effect of how poorly he was socialized as a kid.

Spoiler: minor Yellow Silver spoiler scene

He's literally rooming with Yellow for weeks at a time, flipping through the 'mon world's equivalent of 'tube and ticktock to steal ideas on what to do to who. How loudly Yellow "nos" at him indicates how likely he's going to do it.

Yellow: No, that's just pure evil. Sil'. (snaps computer away from him)
Silver (pouts) rickroll playing in the background. "But..."
Yellow: No Silver!
Later, both Johto and Kanto league headquarters are blaring a familiar tune, Sil's used Gio's office computer to spread the virus making it look like Gio did it.

Cue, PR, security, and Rocket executives being ripped a new one by Gio as a result of the rumors that kick up due to "Gio's" prank.

Tone: I hope I am good enough to pull this off. Melding two wildly different tones in one story is going to be a challenge, but I didn't want this to be solely doom and gloom, you know. It's a bit of a self-challenge, we'll see how well I pull it off as the story continues.

Style: Thank you for the concrete example. It helps. And just as a heads up this is all RD, while I'm running it through Grammer/tech as I go I'm probably going to be backtracking and polishing it in bits and pieces (I can't do a concentrated full edit without going a bit nuts, so, yeah an issue on my end) but anything you notice will definitely help. The further you go in the rougher it's going to get, sorry, figure I owe you a bit of a warning all things considered.

Worldbuilding: Yeah while I get canonically the 'mon worlds based off of actually places my sense of geography and scale and math is a joke. So I picked time zones that might not be too realistic but were plugged in for drama. And I will shrug off any inconsistencies and occasional mess-ups that will pop up with the patented excuse of "Arceus did it" and let it go at that.

Well, I hope I hit everything, thanks again for the great review and I'll see you next chapter drop in, and thanks again.

 

[K_S]

AN: Trigger warning, discussed child abuse, assault, Giovanni triggers Green, and the fall out leaves them both at each other throats.

Green’d been walking ditty, who kept changing shape as they went down the street. Starting as a four-legged rattata, drifting to two-legged bunny ‘mon Green didn’t recognize, then at a stoplight shimmering into a slugma, or rather something slugma shaped. Ditty wasn’t making the body flame, thank goodness, but the semi-fluid nature of the form made the leash ride up. It stopped when it covered Ditty’s eyes.

Once Green pulled it off of him he swirled into the form of a mini spoink and bounced up at her, snout twisted into a too-wide grin.

He was so going to give her trouble getting this thing back on, and he did, the little pain.

“Come on.-” Ditty bounced a bit to the right, making Green miss wrapping him up in the leash. “I know-” that high jump was deliberate. “-You don’t need to keep-” Ditty spun in place, it was a nice triple axel- “ t’ keep jumping, you’re just-” a small hop, Green swept up the ditto into a hug, snapping the leash back on. “-showing off.”

Ditty’s game led to Green missing the light turn, two light turns, still, he has bound up again, and bounced across the street at the next turn gamely enough.

“Getting you that Natural ‘mon geographic subscription for the TV was a mistake.”

Ditty’d gotten really creative since he’d started binged on the series, and gotten her lectured until she’d finally just let him get caught. The first time he’d popped out of his ball and slithered out the room she’d woken up, sleeping lighter than light, and followed him to the tv, where he’d swiped the remote and after some rolling around with it his plasma body had gotten it on and to the right station… And amused, she’d joined him. Watching until she drifted, him curled on her side, beady eyes wide at all the ‘mon capering about. The second time he’d popped out and woken her up, and started to lead her down the stairs… Well, Green’d recalled him with a firm, “no not tonight”, and thought that’d been that.

Until a week later she’d been scolded about not talking to Mum and Da about her insomnia… And shocked she’d just blurted out the truth, it was Dit’ and they’d given her a long look and she’d been scolded for lying and…

And Green’d let it drop, already resigned to the fact that the truth wasn’t going to get her anywhere and let them think what they wanted..

Then Da’d gone to the bathroom, only to find Ditty watching the program. The ‘mon was settled in front of the TV, a snack bag of his treats open at his side, munching as ‘mon scampered across the screen. Mirroring the bulbasaur in the screen, or rather a vine and bulb, Ditty was digging out his treat with a repurposed vinewhip attack, watching ‘mon of the rainforests, Green’s earbuds synced to the TV and sunk into his plasma so he could listen without getting caught.

At three in the morning.

That’d gone well.

Suffice to say Green got more time walking Nido than Ditty since it was the only way Mum and Da’ could think about “grounding” him. And since they weren’t trainers (and weren’t listening to her about anything now) they didn’t realize that keeping him in, letting him get antsy without an outlet, was bad.

And it’d been bad. Grounding was taken up as a challenge.

He’d shimmied into Mum’s purse and ridden to her work with her twice, only getting caught when he’d mimicked her phone and she’d picked him up to make a call. After that, and a scolding from Mum he made himself a floral sticker on Da’ suitcase, and Da’ hadn’t noticed and took Ditty to work. For the whole day. And Da had crazy long hours. Longer than Mums. Come noon, Ditty’d decided he was as hungry as a snorlax, and slithered up onto Da’s desk and ate all his candies and was making a good dent on Da’s bowl that Green guessed tasted a little like candy and…

And Da’d come back from a meeting to find half a bowl missing and Ditty heading out (likely looking for the employee breakroom for more sweets).

Green’d been pulled out of school for that one, and while missing math had been nice the lecture about “responsible ‘mon ownership” wasn’t.

“He’s got to get out...” Green’d countered. “He’s not stupid. If you’d of phrased it like… hey don’t stay up late watching TV you’ll keep people up and that’s mean, he wouldn’t. Heck, he realized that on his own and got my earbuds, you could have found a different way but if you keep him in his ball all the time, without battling, he’s going to take himself out and do things.”

It’s what ‘mon did. It’s why Horsea and Blasty got long times swimming every day. Why Nido got her runs. And why Green had to let her out at night for solo runs even though that wasn’t legal, because without battling a jog a day wasn’t enough.

But as time went on and Green was in and in more and her punishment dragged on (and was added to) well it wasn’t only Green that got stir crazy.

“They aren’t stupid, and they need time doing things. If I could just keep them in a battle circuit, even twice a week, I’m sure that’d keep them happier.” And Ditty was proving it, lighting up at her feet and squirming a little happy dance at the idea…

“No.” Mum snapped. “Green, sweetie, I think they need to get used to this, that you need to get used to this… This isn’t like living on the road, they aren’t the center of your world anymore and you aren’t there’s… You need to focus on… on academia…. socializing… the important things… Not your pets.”

They weren’t her pets, they were her team. How couldn’t they see that?

“Not without a leash and collar,” Mum added, turning, thinking that she’d stay in perhaps, that it was done.

That’d been their newest excuse, having somehow “heard” about Nido breaking leash and harassing someone, her whole team needed to be leashed when out of the house at all times.

But Green wasn’t without a workaround. She bolted to her room and came down with Nido’s old, nidoran collar and Ditty cottoned on, turning into a pink on pink stripped girl ‘ran without being asked.

“Guess I get to take my pet for a walk after all, huh?”

“Tone.” Da’ barked. And really, want scary, get yelled at by a Rocket, they had guns and little qualms about using them.

“Right,” Green snipped. “So I’ll take Ditty for a walk now, so doesn’t act up then, huh? Just to make your lives easier?”

“I expect you to come home with a better attitude young lady.” Da warned, “and don’t forget-”

“Yeah yeah I won’t forget your bloody tracking device.”

She’d “found out” about it yesterday, looking it up on the school computer, and was using that “discovery’” to get some venting in.

“I’m half a mind to have you stay in, young lady.” Mum chimed in.

“You know,” Green snapped the dammed thing on, hoping the roughness would break it. Futile, but it was a hope. “Mask used to stick us with these things under out masks, threatened to rip our faces off if we took them off. Really, this thing brings back all those fun fuzzy memories.”

Ditty was clipped into his body leash and Green booked it before either one of her parents could think of anything to say or to stop her.

So… if Ditty was being a bit bad as they walked… He’d been an angel in waiting until they were out of sight to start playing. So Green wasn’t going to complain.

They passed another crosswalk; the park was two more blocks, and the sidewalk reasonably light on traffic.

“Bet you can’t do a ponyta with a rainbow mane.”

Ditty’s black eyes rolled up to her, and a shiver told Green, it was on.

XX

When a Persian whipped in front of her, a white blur that swept an inch in front of her chest, Green didn’t need top fake shock for the camera. She jumped back, one hand snapping to her belt over Nido’s pokeball, Ditty recoiling out of his “walking” form to assume his amorphous norm so he could shift easily into anything she commanded. A pat of her free hand confirmed that her wallet was still with her, and the assumption, that the cat’s Thief missed, was felled when the cat turned.

Ringed by fangs was Green’s “shiny” that’d inspired the theft. And once the surprise came and went, Green had to think a bit about how hard she wanted to go after the tracker.

Because, really, she didn’t want it. And trapping the cat in a pincer move to pick a fight over the MP3 player that wasn’t wasn’t really on Green’s to-do list right then.

Tail up, fangs glinting, the cat scrunched its eyes at her, and with a pur turned down a side street Green’d never bothered taking before. Looking back, with a flip of its tail, the cat took a left, into an alley...

And Green should probably try to get it back, her conscious niggled her. It’d likely cost a lot. But it was more to see where the overly familiar cat was going that inspired Green to trot after the feline. Holstering Nido’s pokeball, pulling the leash up and wrapping it around her arm, Green followed, Ditty making a passable facsimile of Chu’chu at her feet and taking the lead.

“Purt?” The cat poked its head around the corner, head tilted…

This… probably didn’t look good if someone was looking at the footage right now… But as she followed Green sorta hoped her parents had bigger things to do than watch every second of her walk.

Otherwise, the talk when she got home was going to be uglier than the talk she’d run out on.

XXX

She lost the cat at a dead end. It’s leapt from ground to brick wall that marked the alley’s end, spinning about on white paws it aligned with a fire escape and was up and out. Green followed its flight across the roof with her eyes until she couldn’t see it anymore.

And while she could have Jiggly go up, finish the chase…

She really didn’t want to, so she didn’t.

“Welp that went well.”

The fake chu’ at her feet “ditto”ed at her, then flicked an ear…

Near the alley’s mouth, a door opened, it had a jingling bell and everything.

“That’s not creepy, at all…” Motion by the door and Green had Nido’s pokeball in hand, it wasn’t a long wait. She lowered the ball though, once she could make out who had settled in the door frame her lips quirked despite herself. She didn’t holster Nido but she wasn’t prepped to throw instantly anymore.

It’d have to be an acceptable middle ground, and perhaps it was accepted because Giovanni tipped his hat at her in acknowledgment then stepped into the depths of the brick building, door left open in obvious invitation.

“You know I can think of nine horror movies that start like this.”

The wind kicked up, making the bell dingle, the door remained open, possibly braced. Settling her hat Green tipped a look down to Ditty. He looked up at her, long ears twitching.

“Probably should change into something else, Dit’.” She suggested, then, taking a deep breath followed the Rocket into the building.

XXX

The inside was a bit anticlimactic. The brick of the alley was clearly inspired by the interior walls. There were large ovens, shut and cold, hooks that’d likely held pots and pans had nothing on them, and despite being clearly abandoned the place was reasonably clean. A sunk-in long table, by the ovens, was scrubbed immaculate, it’s white and black tiles nearly reflective. Giovanni was standing by the table, hatless, and one of those hooks on the wall wasn’t as empty as its peers. The hook by a long-abandoned sink was holding his hat and long coat, which understandable considering Sevii was hot this time of year. And even though this room, abandoned kitchen of an eatery, was shadowed, the windows were thin slits which made the room breezeless and the airtight.

Green couldn’t imagine the inferno when everything was up and running.

“Nine.” Just in case he hadn’t heard her, because his confusion would have been a treat.

He raised an eyebrow, neither confirming nor denying what he’d heard. Just flicking a glance at her hat, and wow, old fashioned much? Still she did pull it off and pop it over the doorknob behind her.

“So was this an evil Rocket Pizzeria or something?”

“You look like hell.”

“Rude.” Just like Silver, rude in Silver’s way. She wanted to tell him to knock it off. Not act like Silver. She didn’t need that ghost. Because if he didn’t stop it she was so tired she might start crying. And if she did it was his fault and she’d make his wardrobe pay for it.

Claws clicking on tile made Green look down. Ditty made his choice, a reasonable facsimile of Nido before she’d evolved. Bending down Green scooped the pink-tinged ‘mon against her. Going deeper into the room until she was at an empty stool by the kitchen island. She settled into it, legs crossed, skirt adjusted, and letting Dit’ have her lap.

“Has Silver been in contact?”

As if he didn’t know, to her glare he raised a dark eyebrow.

“This isn’t a test.”

Yeah right. Green huffed but folded. “He sent a message to my phone. My old phone, since I can’t use my new one without getting caught. It was a picture.” She looked down, twiddling Ditto’s pink, pointed ears. They were cold and a bit squishy. A real ‘ran’s ears were hot, part of their temperature regulation. And she heard him sit the stool creaking under his weight. “It was a selfie, he used it to flip my parents off.”

Giovanni’s lips kicked up, before his face smoothed into familiar no tell lines.

Rather amused by his minimal reaction Green twitched a foot, gently so it wouldn’t jar Ditty. “You know most parents freak out when they hear their kids flip off adults.”

“Ask me again, what my job is?”

That was a trick question. He was wearing his R insignia over his heart and everything. Still Green’d bite, appreciating the deflection.

“Making my Dad’s new job a living hell?”

“No, that’s a hobby.”

Green snorted. “Rich people have odd hobbies.”

“Hn.” Not quite a word, perhaps a bit off riposte, Green wasn’t sure, taking a breath, letting it out slow, Giovanni met her eyes. “It didn’t make the news, but Silver’s been busy. Did you hear about the “fence malfunction?” at the Tauros holding pens?”

Green shook her head. “Haven’t been watching Pallet’s news, things have been… bad at home.” She’d been banned from news outlets because she was taking too much enjoyment from it. Clearly, groundings were about being bored out of your mind instead of learning things. Sorta like school. And thinking of that… “The school computers are limited. I did hear a story about it hailing on the new gym being built in Viridian? Was that Silver?”

Red’d done a number on Giovanni’s old gym and in typical fat cat fashion, Giovanni’d started constructing a new gym, instead of fixing the old. In a show of further laziness, he’d donated the grounds of his old building to the public so he wouldn’t have to deal with it.

And in Rocket fashion the new gym was on the edge of Viridian, giving him an easy escape route into the forest if Red decided to temper tantrum through the building again.

For the sake of not breaking down, the peace Green decided not to bring it up her thoughts.

“I wouldn’t trust whatever source gave you that information again, it’s compromised.” Running a hand over his hair Giovanni made an irritated noise. “Hail’d of been easier. Silver set up slush traps for the construction crew and stole their tools. Froze them into a block of ice. And of course, there were snowmen about. A virtual army of them. This snowman thing,” he waved a hand, a lazy half-circle as if encapsulating Silver’s most manic hobby. “Is this something he normally does, or a new thing?”

Green tapped her foot against the air, thinking.

“Silver does like to make snowmen. Snea’ taught him when he was really little and it’s the only type of play he could do. We didn’t have toys or anything.” And remembering, Mask standing over them, demanding they play, and Silver not recognizing any of the toys… Green tucked her arms over her chest, checking a shiver. “Mask, didn’t like us doing anything kiddie unless it was for a job… But in their cell, Sneasel and Silver would make snowmen to break the rules. He’d make them when he was stressed, or bored, or lonely or… Well, all the time really.” Green smirked, remembering one time when Silver’s made a literal army of ankle-high snow blobs.

Karen’d nearly broken her neck when trying to break into Sil’s cell and discovered the floor was not as flat or firm as expected. She’d tripped bad and managed to stab herself by accident. It’d been the funniest thing ever, and even Silver’d found it funny after the scare of being woke up like that faded.

“He’s a bit weird.” Green confided, in tones suiting telling someone their loved one had died.

“Noted.” Tapping a finger on the tabletop, Giovanni seemed to be weighing something, or counting something, and not liking the tally.

Green really didn’t like the look he pinned on her, after he’d made his decision, it was unspeakably grim.

“You are aware that I am in contact with Yellow?”

Green nodded.

“She’s been reaching out to Silver more since things have gone to hell here. Silver was going to repeat his tarring… but didn’t. From what I gathered he used the chaos to break into Oak’s lab-”

Oh Arc’ if he stole something again….

“- and when setting up a trap noticed Professor’s computer was on. He was processing a revocation of a trainer’s license, specifically yours. Your parents put in for the request and he was the governing body requested to process it.”

Green went pale, eyes wide, remembering Mum’s and Da’s complaints in a very different light. Clearly, adjustment wasn’t a thing to aim for, there wasn’t going to be an “integration” of her old life and present. She hadn’t known. Hadn’t guessed they’d do this, ever.

And the fact that they dared….

“Silver was able to override key passages and luckily remembered Karen’s full name as well as those of her guardians. He sent the papers, so for now things have been deflected, but when your team isn’t confiscated by a League representative in.. say two week’s time, questions are going to be asked.”

“They’ll resend it.”

Little wonder Silver’d flipped them off.

“Suffice to say, your time here is very limited. If you have any business I’d warp it up, fast.”

Green remembered one of Karen’s favorite swears then, Arceus screwing Mew in a field of fucking flowers, it fit. All of Karen’s profanity fit right then.

“Fuck.”

Huh and wonders an adult who didn’t care about her swearing. That was new.

“What are your plans?”

Green tapped her fingers on Ditty, quills smoothed, ripping into amorphous skin so she wouldn’t cut herself on his edges.

“I wanna say… walk right to the beach and surf off,” Green confessed.

“I expected better.” He ignored her bristling, continued with no inflection. “Can… Blasty outrun a police lapras? Can he out run a search and rescue human hunting sharkpedo? Because those… those are a nightmare to shake off.” Giovani warned jaw twitching, hands clenching as if remembering something Mask-like. Mindful of how she looked when something made her think of freezers, or Brown’s room or made her need a knife in her hand… Green went still and quiet. She figured sharkpedos had been a thing for Giovanni once. Probably a dead thing considering how the Rocket tended to kill things that irritated him. But still, it was a thing and Green waited until he’d shaken off his mood and picked up the idea where he’d left it. “And all they need is a few hairs, an old shirt, and they’ll follow you across any ocean until they catch you or drop dead. They’re worse than police arcanine.”

“I said wanna…”

The Boss tipped his head at her, eyes thinned. “Elaborate.”

She did.

XXX

She came home, with a black eye, no wallet, and Ditty gone, and was in hysterics. Inconsolable Green threw herself on father and wailed.

“They…they took Ditty!”

And her mother was trying to get her to turn her face, to look at her right.

“I know your hurt and scared sweetie, but I need to check your pupils. Make sure this isn’t going to need a hospital…”

After a halfhearted struggle and sob Green folded, letting her mother’s hands guild her face into the stinging light.

“Pupil’s fine…” Father’s hands are raking her hair and she winced back as Mother bumped her, too close and hovering hitting Green just right. She hissed, scrapes burning at the touch and her mother stepped back, stammering apologies.

“Sweetheart, you’re here, you’re safe, we’re here.”

Two truths one lie, she wondered if he knew she knew.

His arms around her were more sensed than felt, he barely applying any pressure. She could have slithered out of his grip if she went limp, but didn’t. Clinging to him like he was flotsam and the world was being washed away. “Now, tell me, what happened.”

“It was… there was a man… a man in black… with a…a R on his chest. He… He spoke funny… but said… he said…”

XXX

“You really threaten to kill people for their ‘mon. Like, your ‘mon or your life?”

“Though cliché, it works.” Giovanni drawled, Ditty had shimmied up the table and was prodding the Mob Bosses’ calloused hands as if testing the tenderness of potential pets. Giovanni inched his fingers back a bit, disliking the mild sliming they’d got perhaps.

With a quiver, the ditto slithered to Green and Green obliged Ditty’s near insatiable need for cuddles.

“Your altruism may make things worse, for you.” It was almost a warning, almost concerned.

“It’s about Silver.” For him anyway, her reasons didn’t count. “One in three odds, I don’t like it.”

Silver’d been busy, busier than Green’d known. Yellow’d known and settled on Giovanni’s shoulder, a metaphoric chatty chatot and the tales she told. Holy hell had Silver been busy. He’d been almost caught painting a serial code, an old battle record code on Pallet’s “welcome” sign at the highway, and if one typed in that number into a search engine… Well it wasn’t Green’s shining moment, that was sure, but the footage had shown Oak with his mask off. Worse, it’d outed Oak as a man who’d played and mocked Green’s fears in public.

The spiel about her stealing so far had been dismissed as her hysterics, her agreeing to anything at all to make the birds just stop…

Suffice to say Oak was not getting a lot of fan mail at the moment.

Especially since Rocket had hacked and deleted all the data about Oak reporting Blasty missing, and the footage of her taking Blasty…

Red’s home had been vandalized, ice slicks and scratched windows. Footage of Red “baselessly accusing Giovanni of being a Rocket” at a pokecenter, Silver listening on, bored and tired, getting his ‘mon checked out, an unwilling audience of one, had been leaked. It’d been one of Red’s more venomous rants and Giovanni’s lawyers had gone absolutely wild. They were digging into Red’s Champion status with razor tongues and slander claims and dragging everything vaguely sketchy he’d done during his journey right into the muk. Not mud, but a muk.

And Green was so proud. Because no one had thought to use a pokecenter’s footage. Except for Silver, who clearly was taking stabs at Red and offering his Father an olive branch all at once.

“So, he might like you a little, I mean not that the snowmen weren’t’ a hint.” He’d always made one for her birthday after all, and her midterm gift had been left on one. Not that Green was going to tell Giovanni about the birthday thing. “It was a rather artsy prank after all, almost friendly…”

“He started with knives.”

“You know those things don’t work, right, Roomba knife killers? Your Rhyhorn could have sat on it and… And he did, didn’t he,” And Green was grinning with glee, just imagining it. “He just sat on it and…”

“Ms. Azule, you’re pressing a line of inquiry that I’d recommend you drop, or Sird will be delivering the authenticating blows.”

Spoilsport.

Green snapped her lips shut, and it held for a minute, maybe two. “But that means he sorta likes you now?” Green offered.

“I think… I’m the lesser of two evils.”

“Hey, that’s not my fault.” And his glower warned he’d be hitting her if she didn’t knock it off. “Anyway, so he minuscule might like you. That’s good. Right?”

Running a hand over his hair, Giovanni sighed.

“I don’t need this right now. And one more smartass word and you’re paying your own phone bill.”

Green shut up.

“I think, considering Silver’s animosity towards your parents he might do something to them, considering what you know of him…”

“It’s not going to be a snowman prank that’s for sure.” And since Giovanni wasn’t turning off her phone added. “But… he might not, yet? They’re still feeding me and stuff and Silver might worry that they’ll stop if he starts.”

To the Rocket’s grimace of disgust, Green huffed.

“Yeah, Mask sucked. I think…” and she was feeling towards the idea because this was new and crazy and just nuts. “I think if he comes he’s going to try to talk me into going with.”

“And you’ll go with?” And it really wasn’t a question, really. Green knew a threat when she heard it. And didn’t it say everything that Giovanni wanted Green right by Silver, it’d be like him being right by Silver because he knew her, knew her parents, he’d, supposedly, have her do anything and everything he wanted. Get to be there without being there.

Rockets were such creeps.

“What about the tracking sharks and stuff?” Green checked, not quite believing he was this type of ass.

“That can be handled.”

And Mew damn him his tone was so smooth, so unbothered, as he threw her under the bus. To her face. She’d of called him Karen’s longest profanity she could think of if she wasn’t sure he’d snap her neck, he looked that pissy.

“Oh, if Silvers along you’ll deal with anything and everything… like a good Da. But I have to get out of town in a hurry and it’s “so sorry, guess you get eaten Green”.” She stood, recalling Ditty with a growled. “I’m done.”

He started, half standing. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

“To the beach you ungrateful bastard! Any beach! I gotta get a head start on that shark hunt, right, cuz… cuz… screw you! I starved to kept Silver fed and starved and didn’t tell him I was starving.” And she’s screaming at him, walking tight circles that don’t make sense until she’s at the door, then she’s ripping her hat off and fighting it on. “I took Brown's room so many times so he wouldn’t. And you know what? You get in there long enough you can hear him dying in your head. Day two and you think he’s talkin’ because it’s that quiet and anything’s better than that awful fucking silence that’s so deep your heart hurts and you want it to stop. And come day five, you start thinking, “Brown’s got it so damned good, no pain, no nothing!” Mask put Silver in there seven fucking days, when Silver refused to kill someone. He had to relearn how to talk.”

Her tone twists, a mock sweetness that’s hoarse because she’d been screaming at the top of her voice too long.

“So, guess who had to teach him again?”

His shock was hitting every button she had and she was seeing red, literally, tunnel vision, and could almost smell the burning. Fury smelt like Silph burning. It shook her harder than a building coming down.

“GUESS!” She shrieked.

And Giovanni sunk into the chair, eyes wide, face pale, all intelligence to him… all poise… all that danger that he’d been capable of wielding… it was just gone. He looked like a shell of a man, gutted. And Green’d seen people like that, literally. Sneasel more than willing to do what Silver wouldn’t without orders if need be...

Because Sneasel’d seen Silver after Brown’s room, that last time. His first words, the second time around, had been to wail Sneasal’s name. His second had been to wail for a Da who hadn’t come.

And she told him that and watched the man turn a shade she’d seen corpses left in freezers.

Good. She hoped Giovanni hurt, she hoped he hurt, and she hoped he froze, and someone shattered him because he deserved no better.

Done, Green turned on her heel and slammed the door at her back, and booked it.

He was going to kill her, she’d earned that.

But he’d earned it too.

 

[K_S]

AN:

Spoiler: Spoiler, Greens mentality

Spoiler AN:

While I'm by no means a psychologist I did some cursory reading and am trying to be true to reality here.

So why is Green acting as she is?

It's partly due to how childhood trauma is handled.

She's had bad things happen and got to a place where she thought she could bring it up and start dealing with it. Ironically her parents couldn't deal with it and hit the denial train, so Green had to draw the pain and horror back in so when Giovanni comes on the scene she subconsciously thinks "hey, we're talking about this and I can start to deal with this again" but reality hits and her efforts to test the security of her relationship with her parents falls through and she's stuck drawing it back in again...

But sometimes trauma doesn't work like that and won't stay down.

So Green's spitting out her horror at any target as a very poor coping mechanism and while Giovanni doesn't know the name of it, he's realizing that some of what's happening in the fight between him and Green is her dealing with the side-effects of her trauma/a flashback with him as the target.

In short, her rant at him in the "Rocket Pizzeria" is her screaming for help and giving him a snippet of what Silver and herself have been through.

And while I'd never advocate near-lethal force to get someone to stop self-destructing, Giovanni actually steps in to deal with it. Granted, not well, but for poor Green it's the first acknowledgment she's gotten for it that wasn't deflection so it's worlds better than what her parents have done thus far...

And that's going to have consequences later down the line.

She’d ran until running burned, ignoring the people around her, darting around someone who’d tried to slow her down…

And only slowed when she hit the beach. It wasn’t her training spots, there were no boxes or Rockets, but Sevii was an island, all you had to do was run long enough, fast enough, and there was water everywhere.

And the water never looked so good.

She’d drawn Blasty, and maybe she hadn’t been clear. He’d froze, seeing the tears and snot running down her face clearly not hearing a word she said. His canons popped out, his forepaws clenched, and he was scanning the beach for whatever upset her…

But there was no one and that wasn’t helping her now.

“We have to go… just.. In the water and go… We’re being followed.”

Would be followed, same difference.

Blasty nodded, sinking low, the offer obvious, and Green moved to scamper up. Once she was secure atop his back he straightened, careful and slow, and she swung her arms around his thick neck, with a whine.

“Just get us out of here.”

She felt his nod, and then they were turning to the water, and from behind came a false thunder of wings.

Green whined in her throat, because why… why why why…

Blasty snarled, turned them away from the surf, gaze going up. A honchkrow swung low and then swept up with a flurry of flaps. The blastoise didn’t see the dark form slid off the avian though, only saw the bird, understood birds were bad and followed it first with his eyes than an ice beam as the bird went up. Both trainer and ‘mon watched the jagged blue line scratch an off sky hue run across the sky, race after the bird, only for the black bird to lost in a flurry of red light right before the attack connected.

Green looked down then, following the light even as Blasty snarled at the thing across the sand, safely distant from them, but bound to the bird as it’d recalled it.

And birds were bad so it deserved the snarling.

Giovanni lowered his arm, clipping the bird’s pokeball on his belt. He might have been windburned, and ragged, Green wasn’t sure, but the pair must have flown insanely fast to catch up to her here because Green’d ran for ages.

Well, catching up with her was too little too late.

Lips curling in a snarl of her own Green shifted her grip on Blasty’s back. Watched, wary as Giovanni slowly raised his hands, gesture universal. He had no weapons, it was safe.

Huffing a breath that steamed like it was the coldest day and he was warm, Blasty spat, not a full-fledged ‘beam but ice crackled into being, cutting a line in front of the Rocket, blooming ankle-high icicles of sand and edges at his feet.

“Leave me alone.”

He looked ragged like she’d ripped something out of him. Good, she hoped it hurt. Still, his voice was calm, a level baritone, near gentle. “This doesn’t need to be a fight. Recall your Blastoise…”

Another snarl, another line of ice, Green didn’t have to say a word, she just hunkered between Blasty’s canons in a motion the blastiose knew, had known from squirtlehood and up. Withdraw. This black thing was attacking his Green to the point she’d withdrawn.

Blasty roared and the sky once clear snarled back. With a crack of true thunder, the heavens opened up

And it started to rain.

Green thought she heard him swearing, tilting his hat so the water wouldn’t run into his eyes the Rocket flicked his gaze about, and this beach was all but secure. Too rocky for anything but a masochist hiker. The businesses around them were distant enough not to have onlookers and there we laws about no cameras pointing at the beach.

That’d of been spying, and gross, and good people didn’t do that.

So, right then and there, they were as alone as they could get.

And Green wondered if Giovanni knew that. She warmed at the idea that he might not. He hadn’t lived here after all. When you got down it, he was nothing but a really rich tourist with a bunch of ground types.

And it was raining.

And he was saying.. something… Hands still up, carefully stepping over the ice, drawing closer. Whatever he was saying, she didn’t care, because it was raining and there was water in her ears and her pulse was thrumming in her head, drowning out everything.

Red’d done this. Kicked Giovanni’s ass. And Green’d kick it too. She’d win. Then she’d run (because what else could she do?) and she’d find Silver, warn Silver, and they’d hide. Hide in Unova or something.

Someplace so far and distant Rocket and Mask would be nothing more than bad dreams.

XXX

“You shouldn’t have gone after it, sweetie…” Green’s mother soothed, smoothing Green’s hair, passing her a tissue. They’d toweled her down, she was still wet, had drawn Blasty to try to fight back. Small mercies he hadn’t been lost to. Green snuggled his pokeball like it was precious and Mary Azule resigned herself to the fact the turtle would likely be out and in their living room tonight, to be watched over by a nervy Green. “You don’t have to play hero or anything… You’re home, your safe…”

There was only one truth out of three, Green realized, allowing herself to be snuggled. Blasty was a toss or drop away, that made her safe, not home. And really, hadn’t anyone taught her mother how to better mix truths with lies? The more truths the better, it made it harder to spot the lie.

XXXX



Giovanni’s normally immaculate hair was a royal ratatta’s nest. She mentally spat juvenile curses at him as he ignored her and Blasty’s threat displays. She hoped his hair tangled tight, that it took comb teeth, that it fell out, lips curling up in a soundless snarl, she shook and glared at him.

In this moment she hated him, more than Mask.

Mask at least never pretended to care about them; Giovanni’d pretended to care for Silver, he was worse.

He didn’t deserve Silver.

Blasty rumbled under her, green eyes thinned, leg scuffing the sand, he wasn’t going to keep waiting for orders for long.

“This doesn’t have to be a fight.”

How dare he sound calm! How dare he!

“Close and crunch.” And she tightened her grip because she wanted in on it, wanted to be close enough to feel the echo of the fangs sinking in.

Blasty spun, an about-face and hunkered into his shell, water cannons jetting him back and setting him to spin. An impossibly large stone skipping across the sands, the direction and both his and Green’s hostility, made his intent obvious.

There was a flash of red light and then Giovanni wasn’t alone. She managed to get a view of something tall and grey, then he barked a word in Italian and the earth sunk and rose, sprouting a line of stone that wasn’t playing by gravity’s rules. Some sort of special attack, a wall of sharp rock that Blasty spun into and spun out on with a horrid scraping sound that made Green grit her teeth.

The stones hung about Giovanni and his ‘mon, a stealth rock turned shield. Swirling to his feet Blasty twitched his canons and Green shifted, braced. The stones absorbed the bulk of the resulting spray even as Blasty was shoved back into a furry at his own water canons. And seeing the attack coming Giovanni barked orders and the stone shield rose, stacked, an erratic shield that turned the devastating steel punching force of a water canon tom something tolerable. If painful. She hears swears and snarls behind the imperfect wall.

Giovanni’s yelling words, words in Italian, and stones were born of nothing, sliding out of the sands. Springing up behind her, besides her, distant but close enough to make a squarish boundary not quite the size of a sports field.

It was a box, a cell, and it kept her trapped, away from the water.

A snap of his fingers and the stones swirled down, settling into a line once more but not gone.

And, again, Green could recognize a threat when she saw one.

Stepping beside his ‘mon, hands in his pockets, he glared at her, looking… bad. Pale and tired and… just bad. Walking up to the line in the sand, the line of stones he and his ‘mon made, he spoke, words slow and sure.

“Withdraw your blastoise, come back in, and…”

“And what? You won’t throw me to the sharkpedos?”

“I won’t.”

He didn’t even hesitate when he promised. But then Green knew he was a good liar. Probably one of the best. So she laughed –and laughing felt like burning, the world was blurring, she blinked the rainwater away-, because, yeah, right, like she was falling for that.

“Liar.” Then to blastoise as she swung off. “Spinout.”

Stones went flying, sand twisted into wet sandstorms that made a mess of everything. It was only luck windows weren’t broken and buildings damaged.

When the winds and sludge of sand and water died down the walls Giovanni build had become debris that was scattered far and wide. Giovanni was standing alone, having withdrawn his Rhydon to spare it the bludgeoning, and only luck had kept him from being brained or buried. He looked like he’d been dragged down a sand dune backward, and was on his hands and knees, sputtering, scraping madly at his face. Sand and muck coated his hands, made a collar around his neck, a pile at his knees, nearly obscuring them. Each motion was one spent clearly fighting to breathe and see, and Blasty stepped, one step that made sand and rocks crackle, and Giovanni turned, eyes wide, able to see one thing at least.

So sad... too bad… His black clothes made a perfect target against the white of the nearest houses and the yellow tinted sands. Poor him.

“Blasty, hydro-!”

“Now!”

And Giovanni dropped all pretense of weakness, diving to the side even as Blasty shot…

And the earth under Blasty’s and Green’s feet caved in. A Dig being played out in full.

Giovanni hadn’t withdrawn anything, he’d used Blasty’s adlibbed sandstorm to hide his Rhydon, his Rhydon’s digging.

Green fell while standing in place, the ground giving out. And when things settled she was shoulder deep in sand, Blasty was up to his neck beside her.

And the rain was dying, rain dance only could summon squalls for a few minutes anyway.

Sand bulged a few feet away and Rhydon shrugged out of the earth with a grumbling grunt. It was an eerie liquid grace how it rose up, sand sliding off its scales, surging up like how flying ‘mon would jump off the earth to take to the sky.

Clawed feet making stones crack on impact as it hopped out of its hole. The ground type was up and out and shaking sand off its scales. Splattering them with sand, the jerk. The beast tipped its horn down, indicating them, then turned to its trainer. The slow claw flex like a suggestion, an unpleasant one.

“Enough, return.”

Squirming, trying for up with none of the Rhydon’s grace Green managed to make some of the mud stir, just a little. She really squirmed when Giovanni walked over, futile she knew, but unable to not.

Then he was there, and Green was dead, she just knew it.

Her thoughts rattled in her head, advice given too little too late. She should have run, screw fighting, she should have run, run ages ago. Never talked to him. Just up and been gone the second he called… No one would of cared, not Them, not Him, she should have been gone, or with Silver, not here where she was now.

And he was digging at her… right arm… digging it out? It was a single-minded effort, like a ‘yenna digging up carrion and she panicked, realizing what he was going for.

“No, hey!” He didn’t even look up at her cries. She tried to bite him, got a taste of his coat and mud and he glared down at her, shifted a bit, and went right back to digging. Digging for her hand that was still locked around Blasty’s ball.

“I don’t have it, I dropped it!”

“If you pull one more stunt, try one more lie, I will have Rhydon make your hole deeper and fill it.”

“Silver’d…”

“Never have to know.”

And never mind Giovanni Sakaki looked waterlogged, and mud smeared, and like hell, he was terrifying.

Green didn’t dare breathe a word as he dug up her pokeball. Her arm was high, crossed over her chest right before she’d fallen, Giovanni hadn’t had to work too hard. He wrenched Blasty’s ball out of her tingling fingers and one flash of red light later and they were alone.

He sat with a grunt, staring over her, at the sea she guessed, all Green could see was the rocky sand in front of her, and feel hurt and pinched too tight.

“I had meetings, little girl. Your little outburst has disrupted my day, immensely.”

Moving her arm, he didn’t say anything about that, so she swung it around so it was under her chin and she could rest on it. Grit and goosebumps, best pillow ever. She spat a bit of sand to the side, near him, and again, he didn’t comment. He took to a twisted sort of kneeling that he could surge out of in a moment if he needed to, and since it wasn’t her back getting hurt holding that pose, she left him to it. Sinking a bit deeper on her arm, seething.

Not even bothering to dig herself out. Just too tired.

She sulked, while Giovanni caught his breath. Not all that’d been for show earlier it seemed. Good, Green hoped he choked. In a royal sulk then Green glowered at sand and decided that Red, was a liar.

Unless he had some Champion way to battle while buried, then he was just crazy…

She waited and he waited, for what? An apology? Probably, adults loved those. Well he could wait until Green starved, he wasn’t getting anything, and more to deal with an itch than anything else Green started digging at the sand around her neck, pushing the rocky muck back and squirming.

And, again, he didn’t say anything.

Finally, he drew a loud deep breath, and let it out slow, bracing himself for something, and if she could have, Green’d of squirmed. As it was, when he spoke she screeched bloody bloody denials and started digging at the trap like mad. He ignored everything with an infuriating calm, even when she tried to chuck some of the sand at him to make him leave.

And he didn’t, damn him..

Clearing his throat, as if she hadn’t heard, he repeated himself, tones utterly unruffled, and damn him for that.

“We need to talk.”

XXX

And Mary Azule was right, and wrong, in a way. Blasty was let out, and the familiar, small Jiggly as well. The turtle had pushed aside the living room sofa so it had room to sprawl, and Green’d skulked between her room and the living room, making trip after trip down to fetch all her blankets, all her pillows, and she made a wall of fluff about the turtle, chattering and soothing it. Running fingers over its scratched-up shell, to soothe herself.

Making small, sad, assurances that things weren’t changing.

They were together, and nothing bad was going to happen because of that.

To that onslaught of denial, Frank looked pointedly at Maria, a bit of warning to his expression. They should… nip that assumption… Should, truly, to reinforce that they were there, that their presence was as steady as could be and that ‘mon (specifically Dittos) were fickle creatures. Very much epitomizing easy come, easy go, and probably.. happy with their new trainer?

The last felt like a push and Mary’s lips twisted into a self-recriminating grimace of distaste.

Perhaps that last was a bit much… It was a Rocket after all that had Dittel.

Still, it was one down… how many to go?

Another trip down and Green was dragging her backpack with her, crawling on the hard tan belly shell of her pet, and settling atop a blanket she threw over it to soften its scales. Secure on her perch she lay on her belly, legs bend and tapping a tattoo against scales as she dug out a book and flipped it open.

“I know it’s not “Wonderland” but I’ve got Iliad here, wanna listen to chapters nine through twelve? I gotta test on it soon.”

A puff and “Jig” and Jiggly descended from its slow flight around the room. So Green had an enthusiastic audience of one at least. The turtle Green addressed, rolled its green eyes, and pulled its head into its shell with a rumbled sigh.

“Critic. Oh ow… do not make faces… Not worth it… Ouch ouch…”


“Alright up there, Sweetie?” Frank called out, hollering a little. Not quite willing to leave the kitchen.

Mary settled on the misplaced couch. It was reasonably close to Green and Blasty so if Green needed her for anything she could just say the word. It was close enough that if Mary stretched a bit she’d brush her fingers against the scaled thing’s shell. Or face, if it withdrew it. Green eyes glinted out at her from the shadows of a shell, squinted at her no less, making that a firm no, it was not popping its head out to get pets from her anytime soon.

“Yeah, fine.” And their Green was being so brave barely a twinge of pain or fear to her voice. “Figure I might as well read a bit until I can’t, you know?”

And pragmatic. Frank canted a smile up at his daughter, though nose in her book she couldn’t see it.

“Let me know if you want any ice.”

“Will do.”

Frank met her eyes flicked his fingers, a three then a head tip. Three days seemed more than fair, for Green to recover. Then they’d tell Green everything, about her license being pulled, and retiring her team so she could be safer and live a normal life. Because Rockets only went after you if you had rare ‘mon, and while Dittle had been her rarest, a blastoise wasn’t much safer.

And until then... they’d indulge her a little. Let her have her pets out, it was only going to be for three days.

XXX

Green’d take poison before using ice willingly, straight off of Nidoking’s spines. Giovani could get his Nidoking out and she’d find a glass and take it, right now, this second.

Just watch her.

“I’m like all banged up from the beach why couldn’t you just go with that?”

“Overt injuries inspire more pathos.”

Tauos shit, he’d wanted to punch her. And he had, without warning her either.

Which meant he deserved her pulling her knife and swinging out of instinct.

She hadn’t hit him hard, just scratched his arm a little, and made a mess of his sleeve. And who knew that the big bad Boss of Team Rocket was a baby? He’d cleaned his arm in a sink; the water was on, despite the place looking older than heck. And he dug out a first aid kit from under the sink. He was disinfecting around the wound like she’d stabbed him in the meat of his arm or something.

Applying pressure, he picked up some bandages and got to work. Like her wussy cut on him, running from near wrist to elbow was going to do anything if he left it. But Giovanni didn’t. He glared at her in irritation as he worked, tying off the bandage with a few practiced twists and having the knack of knowing how to do it one-handed as well.

Not that she’d help him, even if he asked, but it was a pretty good technique so Green watched and took notes.

“I don’t trust you.”

Hate on him looked different, she’d seen his hate and this was just irritation as he sighed and killed the water. Dabbed at the mess in the sink for a bit, not looking at her.

“So you’ve established.”

“And you want to take everything...”

Her team swept up by false “agents” when her Mother and Father’s plans kicked up, herself taken to Viridian to meet up with Silver, her by Silver’s side, her in Giovanni’s pocket.

Just how he’d wanted it, her fight getting her nothing.

“We’ve gone over the variables…”

Where she was screwed if she ran on her own. How she had no allies. He’d gone over each and every one of her counters, tearing into them like a Persian with a really fluffy bird. And the feathers and tempers had flown for it.

Speaking of Persian, his came in, tail tip high, purring its name and clearly wanting pets. Her MP3 dropped off at some Flare place or other.

“And you’re getting everything back.” He reassured, almost in a monotone. She was sure his teeth were gritted together.

Well tough, he was the one with the bastard’s reputation. He’d done it to himself by acting like one.

Her team to be supposedly returned, ect, ect, she got the gist of his plans, understood how he’d promised it was supposed to work…

But she wanted something to make sure he’d do as promised, had demanded it without specifying what she wanted. Hoping he’d let something real valuable slip.

He didn’t, of course.

“You’re asking me to give you collateral? My car for example? Right here, right now?” And his eyes crinkled, an almost Silver laugh. Cleaning done, he left the towels in the sink as if expecting someone to be in here to clean up after him. Considering the water was on Green suspected they might after he left. “I’ve a honchkrow, little girl, you can have him if you like.” He offered, grin tight and cruel, like the Persian at his feet. “ Anyways, you can’t’ drive.” He scrolled his gaze over her, amused. “I doubt you could reach the peddles.”

“Your car?” Green scoffed, meeting scorn for scorn. “You’ve got like, nine, right? No, I want something bigger.”

“I’m not getting you any power over any corporation, you can’t’ even work at any of them for five years at the least-“

His scorn was like shooting down a child for wanting a rapidash. And it was six years, not that she was going to tell him that.

“Your Rocket ID card.” Because while grunts were chipped, Executives go the chip removed and had ID cards, hidden in their own actual IDs. Will’d swiped one, and gotten in far and deep in places so cruel his psychic sense had sung him horror stories. Stories he’d shared with the younger to make them slip up, to be scared.

But that wasn’t important, what was, was the card.

“The one made with sliced rotom plasma, the one synced to your soul, aura, whatever it is… That makes it so the card won’t work if you change loyalties.”

Because there was a grain of truth in that saying, selling your soul to Team Rocket. Will’d said carrying the thing had drawn on his, twisted the thoughts in his head, and it’d stopped working for him after a bit. He’d crawled back to Mask, sick and worn from his mission, papers got, eyes swimming with malice, and somehow more off in his head than he had been before.

Giovanni stared at her, frozen, still, not dead still like before, but obviously shocked before he blinked and his expression folded into familiar no tell-lines..

“I’d like to know why you think something so fanciful exists.”

“Will.”

And that front of “oh nothing’s wrong” was felled with a grimace. He glared down at her and she waited, dripping on tile floors because he’d’ dried himself off and left her nothing to dry off with.

“I really must put that boy in his place.”

Six feet under Green was sure, but Will wasn’t her problem.

“So, you either give me the card or I’ll take my chances. And if Yellow doesn’t hear from me, and doesn’t pass anything along to Silver about me, how long do you think until he comes to Sevii?”

Because something was going on. Giovanni being here screamed it. He’d gone to Silph, to Illex, when things were at the tip of a disaster; guiding the collapse to twist it so whatever he wanted fell into his hands.

Or he meant to.

Dex holders seemed to add a variable he couldn’t do anything about.

Rocket, the boxes, his meddling with her and her folks, all these parts were of something bigger whole Green couldn’t even see the edges of. And when things happened like that, Giovanni moved heaven and hell to keep Silver away. Per Silver he’d been furious with Carr for bringing Silver to him during Rocket Business, the murder attempt had only gone to make him a smidge more angry…

So something bad was going to happen here because the Rocket didn’t want Silver here.

“I think,” Because Green’s remembering his threat and only someone stupid would think she was smiling just then. “That if I go… quiet… he might never know, you’re right there. But he knows I was at Sevii last, and he’d make it a top priority to come here, don’t you think?”

Giovanni’s eyes twitched, clearly not appreciating the blackmail. His expression so still that it made Green’s skin crawl.

She imagined she could see temptation flit across his eyes, as he considered her, and “putting her in her place” perhaps, but the moment came and went. He pulled open the cabinet under the sink, and Green caught sight of… tarp, cleaning things, tape, a hack saw, metal rattled as he shoved the first aid kit back where it’d been, and he dug a bit deeper in. A few moments later and he came up with a towel, white and rough looking.

He tossed it at her and the thing might as well be sandpaper.

“Dab, don’t wipe, we need some verisimilitude for this act so don’t dry all the way off.”

She waited, caught the thing in hand, eyes thinned, and he pulled open his wallet, flipped out a card that Green’d of sworn was a credit card, save looking at it made her skin crawl like looking at a ghost type did.

Hell, Will’d not been lying. It hovered, literally hovered, making light and space seem to dip around it so it could be nestled upon nothing at all. Looking away made the effect die down, and a span of blinking sharply had it settle on the kitchen island between those fractions of a moment Green couldn’t see it. Chasing droplets off the ends of her hair the thing looked as normal as could be.

Despite giving Green the heebie-jeebies just being this close to it.

“Will went crazy, carrying this thing, for five minutes,” Green noted.

“Caveat emptor.”

“Which means?”

“Not my problem.”

“I’m taking Italian next semester…” Well if she went back to any school, ever, still it wasn’t a totally hollow threat, Viridian had a library she could check out some books or something. “Because I am sick of you people and your lying.”

And he almost smirked, almost.

“Go home Green, but… before you do.” Giovanni offered… no extended a hand in a mute demand. She passed him Ditty like they agreed. And Cav’whatever back at him. She trusted Ditty to give Giovanni hell. Giovanni was tossing the pokeball in his hands, back and forth, as if weighing Ditty and gauging him by how much heft he had before sliding the ‘mon on his belt. Her red and white holder looked smaller and dingier compared to his gym leader yellow and black.

She tried to ignore how his eyes were boring into her like a Pidgeot when she moved to pick up the card. Green didn’t feel sick when she touched it. She flipped it over, once, twice, studied both sides, then slid it in her pocket. It was like pocketing a sliver of ice. Unpleasant, but not alien.

Not touching it directly dimmed the effect, and then it was like it wasn’t there at all. She patted her pocket, just to make sure it hadn’t slipped out, or teleported off, and since it didn’t she was good. She’d pop it a school book or something until she could think of a better hiding spot.

And Giovanni looked both amused and disappointed by… Whatever... Watched her leave. Tossing her sandpaper sliver of a towel at him she was on her way out, Green was eager to get gone, twiddling lies and tones in her head as she went. Until Giovanni’s Persian ditched the Rocket to cut Green off, right at the back door.

“And your wallet, for verisimilitude, you understand,” Giovanni called after her as if robbing her was an afterthought.

Glaring up at him, and glaring was hard since one eye wasn’t working quite right, Green snarled. “You. Are.Kidding.Me.”

“Well, now that I have nothing else to do, keys to the kingdom in your back pocket….” And he was lying and she didn’t need tells to tell, this was such tauros shit- “I’m finding myself strapped for cash.”

She seethed up at him, near lost it… Then taking a deep breath Green forced herself to calm down, She was still in her control. She had Giovanni’s Rocket… whatever… proof he was in Rocket considering fingerprints and things. And she had tales to tell Silver. Long, detailed, ones about how he should never, ever, have anything to do with Giovanni, ever.

If it came down to it all the aces were in her hand, and she had a few spares up her sleeve, just in case.

So Green threw her wallet at the Rocket. She hoped it hurt, knew it was too light and hoped anyways.

“See you in a week, Green Azule,” And Mew, she knew how Da’ felt just then and felt a bit bad for him despite everything. “It’s been a pleasure doing business with you.”

 

[K_S]

An: Some profanity, talk of extortion, and general bitterness.
Also, Zia is supposedly Italian for "aunt".


“Silver’s running out of people to get to.” Green confessed. “That leaves Mask, Lance, and me.”

One in three odds, with things slanted in her favor. She’d run a hand over her face at assessments end.

“So I go back, I stay as long as I can. And when I can’t, I go to Yellow, Yellow calls and Silver’ll join me… The rest goes by ear.”

Superficially it’d all gone his way. All according to plan. The bruises of the fight and stinging gash warned him not to take too much satisfaction from it. While presenting Silver a healthy and happy Green would have been ideal… He’ll settle for a living one. And any tale baring Green whips out can be worked around with time and effort.

He takes a break from any hands-on Rocket inspections to walk his personal businesses through their paces. Quietly perusing the small and large assets he’s accrued. “Rotom’s” R and D is proving enlightening. And their stock of “voluntarily retired battle” Rotoms were particularly promising.

They were familiar with the Rocket RD department, ghost types of a technological slant. With effort one could skin them, infusing a chip with a sliver of death, which was the base nature of a ghost type. It'd taken years of research, but that death could be tapped, activated when someone’s loyalties swayed. Having more rotom would allow Rocket to expand on the executive card system.
This would have already been done, but his source in Alola had refused to provide more shipments of the electric ‘mon. Insubordination wasn't an insurrection, so Giovanni’d had their reputation drug through the mud in retaliation. A man finding his conscience was a minor inconvenience, and with pressure could be persuaded to drop it again. So alive was better than dead and thus Giovanni allowed himself to be lenient. The agent, scenting his straits, perched on the tip of a knife’s edge, a bout of ill humor setting him to be sliced in half, had smartened up and steeled himself for "one last errand".

There was never one last errand, never one last job, but whatever delusions got you through your day.

Near out of the Game Nanu'd dipped his toes back in, scraping up the fortitude to provided Rocket a steady stream of information which had lead Giovanni to Sevii.

Finding Green here and Green’s father as well had simply been a pleasant coincidence and an opportunity to meld business and pleasure that the Rocket'd snapped up with both hands.

The stock of Rocket’s rotom having died out when Nanu had grown a spine had been a pain. They, one and all, refused to remanifest. Nanu's refusal to get his hands dirty had slid up from irritating to insubordination, that’d twisted back down to irritating again when the man had forwarded news of a large shipment of wild rotom that had last gone missing during a rehabilitation effort. Some paperwork hunting and Giovanni’d found the stock of “retired” rotom, in Sevii. All in all, the Rocket decided, watching the young ghosts flit about, clustered around a fridge, jostling among themselves to have a turn at possessing the tech, the new 'mon would be useful.

And these chips, once the prototypes were cleared, was something he was itching to inflict on the old blood. He'd start with the lowest levels of grunt and scaling his way up the Rocket ladder, work out the kinks on the most expendable. If this batch of ghosts produced enough death to infuse the chips, enough psuedo plasma to bind death to his will, he'd infect the lesser Rocket's, the middling Executives, and thier teams as well.

It’d be ineffably valuable to have the hooks in his underling's place before someone tried to off him again.

After all, Carr’d not been the only would-be assassin, just the one who’d gotten closest to success.

XX

From “Rotom” he moved on to other errands.

Small things, interspaced with small pleasures.

Money and information had passed his hands to be tucked away in his suitcase. Reports he’d add to Archer’s to confirm who was loyal and who was not. After a few rounds of extortion, checking the pulse of old famiglia cells, the news was good or varied. As far as Giovanni could tell Lysandre hadn’t gotten his claws into this part of Sevii…

But then the lower levels, the working class, never bothered the elitist, the Rocket would have to use them to spearhead some disaster for Lysander Corp's most recent feelers, so the man'd get the message.

Being on top of a dogpile was all well and good, but in the end, one was just atop a pile of dogs, and dog-eat-dog was something more than a saying when the right pressures were put into place...

Near the end of his errands, the Rocket indulged sentimentality. Stepping in to visit an old relation more fringe than member on the family tree.

Because there was truth in that old stereotype about old signora’s and their ears, and networking.

It’d been in part of sheer admiration for the near century-old woman and her iron fist on a city block and the pragmatic reason that he didn’t want to have his ears boxed for not coming around that'd drawn him to her home. Sentiment and admiration had gotten him through her door, and after she'd cursed him out for "being away so long, just waiting for her to die already" he'd asked if she had breakfast.
She hadn't, and he hadn't, and it was a rare overlap. A legitimate excuse to “catch up”, and the gossip had been ripe.

The relations on his mother's side had been in quite the pother and both of them were of a malicious amoral slant, so why not wine and dine over the dispair of the other members of the family tree? When he phraised it that way she'd been quite content to welcome him in, all accusations of him being a d"damned mandibuzz" forgiven and forgotten.

She cooked breakfast. Threatened him when he offered. So Giovanni settled in on her couch while she "tossed something together". Going through the pleasantries of what they'd been doing and setting aside the mundane banter so that when she was done they could focus on the news of his relations who’d disowned him ages ago.

His Zia was a pleasant, sharp-tongued, old woman, with more wrinkles than features, a favoring of loose sundresses, and hiding the edges of her nails with fanciful nail colors. She was caustic as hell, raspy-voiced as a murkrow, and indifferent to the fact that her cackles could set teeth on edge.

"They don't want me to laugh than by God they need to stop screwing up so bad." She crooned, "that or they need to grow a pair and send someone to shut me up that I don't kill first,"


Zia, while being abrasive as hell, also had a talent to make the bitterest gossip into the highlight of a day, and did so, while "settling" her silver hair about in whatever style whim took her.

So Giovanni partook on gossip of failed marriages and ruined ventures with her on her floral embroidered couch. His legs propped up on her coffee table until she shuffled in, mildly encumbered with their repast, setting food beside foot, then raping a leg with her walking stick. To that prompt Giovanni "recalled his manners" and slid his legs off so she could have something more present to gripe about. It added texture to her venting and railings about the "damned screw ups your mami rose" when she had more than one target and tried to wiggle insults at him while going on about them.

Considering his only crime was mucking up the edge of a table she didn't have much ammunition and it was endearing to see her try anyway.

His coat and hat were set in the proper rack mere steps after entering her door, all unprompted because she’d of gone for the knife block dare he not. The tools of his trade were out of sight, out of mind. A sleek steel suitcase with state secrets was propped against the couch's side. Respectfully kept closed because unless she brought it up Work was a taboo. His tech was pocketed away because she'd skin him alive if his attention wandered off of his host for even a moment because she'd not raised him in a barn, thank you.

"No only Oak did so, with that inept fool of a grandson, Blue."

"Who the hell names their kid after a color?"

"A slew of them, from Pallet mainly. Have I mentioned Rocket's most recent would-be enemies, who will not rest until they've dethroned the mob and set up a new world order? their names are Red, Blue, Yellow, and Green."

"Why in Gods Green earth are you quoting primary colors at...." Realization lit her dark dark eyes and she gawped. "You're serious... Champion, Red?"

"The way he's going about it, soon to be ex-Champion per scandal and lawsuits."

"I thought that was a nickname, the whole "red" business."

"Just the byproduct of a mother with some undiagnosed mental disease and a community who took inspiration from her."

And that was how they'd started digging into current events, which had lead up to Silph.

Breaking down the disaster at Ilex, Zia tutted, leaning to apply spread to her bagles and snap up some fruit.

"Saints and Sinners boy, world's a damned mess outside Sevii."

He'd have to serve himself, which he did once she was settled.

"Which begs the question, why're you here and not there. Unless something up here." Her harumph warned there better damned well not be. She might pull his ass from the fire, maybe, but he'd pay for it if she had to be bothered.

"Just tying up some loose ends, I'll try to make sure you don't hear too much about it."

"Good."

They ate in silence, a little old woman who sundresses and a businessman who abstained from talking of business out of old-world politeness. Until Zia found the silence irritating, then she monopolized the conversation. Which was her privilege as matriarch, though her conversation was anything but pleasant. Whooping about some half brothers blunder that'd gotten him crushed by a Golem, her nieces and nephews all cued up to fight tooth and nail over a fortune that wasn't worth the effort. He'd taken advantage of a moment to tab on that he'd heard of Uncle such and so's stocks droping in the market, right before his death, and a bit back and forth affirmed that neither had anything to do with it.

It'd been chance, death to destitute, and that made the news all the more a treat for them both.

A boon without effort without strings attached was the closest thing to a miracle in their line of work. Though neither treated it with piety. Nothing was sacred in the Sakaki household, after all.

She'd gotten new sandals to show off her feet, showing them off with a twiddling little motion, and he hummed at them, scrolling from feet to hands. Noting that the polish matched the glitter and the brightness was a good cover. She cooed her appreciation at his tact, then tapped the nails of her off-hand, telling the tale of the sharpness and poison edges with that motion.

"A beautiful cover, I bet no one'd guess and any "accidents" aren't traced back to you." He'd complimented, and she'd preened, acting twenty years younger than she was in that moment.

"You always did have a smooth tongue in that head of yours."

They shared bitter laughs over bitterer coffee. The most recent funerals and biting obituaries left by disillusioned children had been a rare treat. Watching the "kids" scattering from their traditional roots so fast it left the old hierarchy’s scrambling to hold together, they made mocking wagers as to what shady corporations would take the old blood Sakaki castaways, and what new and upcoming syndicates would waste a fortune to poach the talentless mob his mother's side of the familigia had spawned.

"Should of gotten her neutered, her and that damned fifth husband." Zia huffed, topping her glass.

Such talk would of depressed anyone who didn’t know her, knowing her as he did he’d offered to have her scrapbooking of the tragedy of the Sakaki family, their disillusionment and debasement, hung up for her wall. Gilt frame and everything. Hell, he knew publishers; if she’d wanted she could launch her own expose. A final laugh. A last bit of warming vengeance, for her, on her way out.

“I like my homely book and its worn pages, thank you. Write what you want on your time, as long as I get a fair cut.”

He’d assured her he would, snapping up the last almond cookie, because leaving one behind would be a crime.

She sniffed, then showing her age she turned a hair sentimental. “You got out at a good time, Gianni.”

Then she straightened, hands-on hips, taking the plate, because that last had been hers, and he was a thief. Always would be in her book. She was trying to loom though she was far too short to make it work. And he straightened a bit in his chair, to stroke her ego and think she was intimidating because it’d been so long and she should have some small pleasures besides his thieving to carp at after he’d gone.

So, let her think him cowed, what was the harm?

“So, when are you going to get married, settle, and give us a brood bambini who can actually pull their heads out of their asses and do something with their lives?”

Except to his ego… Checking a sigh Giovanni pulled up his sleeve, considered his wristwatch. “Zia, I really must be going.”

“Business or Business?”

Well, she was no fool. He smiled a sharkpedos smile.

“And I’d tell you, why?”

“Fah, you youngsters and your damned paranoia… You think any sane copper would wire me?”

“Not without you skinning them alive and hanging their corpses to dry outside,” He stood, leaning close, a chaste kiss to her cheek serving as all the sentimentality he’d not say out loud. “I’d have plenty warning before I came in, I’m sure.”

“You never bring me anything…” An old complaint near crooned.

“I offered you a damned book deal.”

She was hardly phased by his irritation, her temper worse than his all things considered. She smoothed his tie though it was immaculate before her touch. After, it was askew, tugged hard enough he'd of coughed if he hadn't expected the move. All in all it was a tiny sliver of petty revenge.

Well, he’d had to learn it somewhere.

“You are a king, of getting me not what I want.”

He rolled his eyes.“ Why don’t I just nip to the nearest playground and abduct someone’s kid, hmm Zia, just for you? Or pick up a pretty lady and swing by in nine months, we’ll see if I got lucky. Will that work?”

“Don’t be a smart ass.” And she skewed his chest with a finger, unpoisoned digit. Making a point to rumple his tie as she flicked her finger up to better waggle it under his chin.

“No abductions. No bothering ladies. Police look into that.”

Only sometimes, still, it was homily in the Sakaki house that the smarter members had obeyed. The ones who hadn’t… well there were some cases of assault on the stupider one’s files. The ones in jail cells.

“What you need is a pretty lady in the business.” She advised, sweeping up plates and heading to the sink to drop them off. He'd been banned from dishes ages ago, some slight about putting a cup in the wrong spot that she'd never forgiven him for. “What about that Ariana woman?”

How she knew the present members of his own syndicate despite being decades out of the Game he’d never know… Giovanni had his suspicions, but never really dug too deep into them.

“I’d rather not wake with my throat slashed, thank you. And the things she does with her Vileplum are criminal and carnal and… just… no Zia, not Ariana.”

And she crowed like a murkrow, delighting in his legitimate discomfiture which made her winner in this visit.

And despite his loss Giovanni cracked a tired smile at her, smoothing his tie with practiced hands and standing, getting to going and going to get his things.

After all, business waited for no man.

When he left a few minutes later he noted the weeds in her garden, the cracks in the cement made a few steps uneven, on the path to her mailbox, and made small plots, small schemes, to get things touched up for her on the sly.

It’d pass the time between here and there.

XX

From family business, he backtracked to Mob Business, which really was one and the same.

There were nine banks on Sevii. The island was trying to mirror an old nation that was renowned for banking and pacifism and immunity to the power plays of its’ neighbors by being the home of their wealth. And only Sevii’s utter insignificance had spared it any real disasters, not its dogged miming the norms of ages past.

Giovanni went to one such bank, not the one overtly tied to Rocket, or the one tied to Gio Corp, but a small outlier whose logo changed so often he’d mentally dubbed it changelings though its name was both pompous and Latin and utterly irrelevant.

Now it’s President, was not. Not when the bastard was trying his hands at treason. And he’d of dealt with this yesterday… but Green and her outburst had happened. So he’d rescheduled.

Hopefully, Burnswick hadn’t gotten in too deep to be an utterly irretrievable asset. If he had… Well, he’d live up to his name.

Stepping through gilt arches, across marble floors, he scanned the walls, recognizing the layout he made a sharp left, ditching the grandiose lines and desks with ‘mon and humans both. A door to the right and he was going up the stairs, flashing his Gym Leader card had stopped the security, ‘mon responding to the aura of his gym badge, the humans stalling as their ‘mon did. Might as well of replace them with mareep, they were so ineffective.

A few side rooms, and one stair well that he took at a trot, pausing near the last turn to ruffle his hair and look a bit worn, the secretary recognizing his face and smiled at him in sympathy. He’d perhaps overdone the dishevelment a bit. But the aide was warm and utterly oblivious. Zia’s talk flickered in his mind making him crack a smile with a ghost of charm to it at the girl.

“He’s in a meeting, nothing big, just a zip call.”

“I know, I was late… Zubat swarm. I let him know through my personal line I was coming and I apologize for not going through you but…”

“Should I ring him, let him know?”

“Not necessary. I’ll see myself in.’

And that, as they say, was that.

He walked up to the double doors, pulled them open enough he could slip in, and closed them behind him in near-perfect silence. Smoothing his hair he walked across the last stretch, that grandiose bit of carpet leading to an oversized desk, and the small, bald, man behind it. Near hopping out of his chair, Burnswick went pale and then glanced down at his computer, guilt flashing across his features before trying to tip the device so Giovanni couldn’t see. Some clicks assured he was likely trying to press, and missing the mute button.

“I would think that violating the various trade agreements between two international governments wouldn’t fall under the category of “casual meeting” would you? Or is this a new thing? Treason at lunch?”

“Ah I’m sorry Mr. Sakaki, I didn’t know you were in town... I was taking a bit of a family call, can we have our meeting… later?”

This excuse? From a man who had no living relations? The Rocket raised an eyebrow, waffling between irritation and insult.

A glance at the screen before it’d been adverted showed the expected. Two managers of a Kalosian rival, and one of Lysander’s personal Yes Men. A middling executive to Flare.

Without the uniform mind, since they’d been recently discovered and declared criminal.

Well and good. With the Executive's presence, the Kalosian Pyroar would be reviewing the footage, perhaps even in real-time. He’d see Giovanni personally defang the scheme and take it as a challenge. Which it was, but Lysandre needed these little hints from time to time to get the message.

Sevii was a territory of Kanto, and Kanto was his, so Lysandre could go to hell.

“This conference,” the Yes Man countered, tinny voice rising in irritation. “Is legitimate and what does Gio. corp has to do with an independent...”

“One, it's Viridian Co, Gio’ corp is my League PR team.” Giovanni corrected. “Two, Viridian Co has enough shares that I own the air in this building. In short, what I say goes. And this illegal conversation, because we’d need two lawyers, both myself, and your… superior… and two league reps to begin being legal, is over.” He turned to Brunswick. ”End the call.”

This was why each region and league was an entity in itself, each country trying might and main to be its own self-contained world. International anything, trade, media, news, was such a nightmare of sheer aggravation no one bothered. The only trade that wasn't so encumbered was food.

This call was a five year prison sentence if any side had suggested anything vaguely binding.

He turned from the screen to the President, teeth bared in a faux smile. “Last warning, I won’t repeat myself.”

To his credit, Burnswick did try to hit the call end. But Lysander’s tech had a habit, a tell, of running what you didn’t want it to and doing what it willed. All without Rotom or porygon to help it along.

There was some lean satisfaction in watching a man proclaimed a “financial giant” throw himself under his desk, all the better to crawling to the power cord and pull it out. In his panic the President didn’t hear the threats, the “if you hang up it’s over” but Giovanni did, and wondered, what exactly he’d find when he started the inevitable data dig through the Burnswick’s files.

The screen when dark, and the pale, shaking President crawled out, going pale to ashen as the Rocket had taken his chair and made himself at home.

“I’m hurt; really I am that I wasn’t even called.” Affecting a false brightness that put him in mind of Green at her worst, Giovanni smiled. “Unless… unless of course this was an accident? After all, accidents do happen and I can respect an honest, human, mistake.”

Creeping along his own desk, Burnswick slid into the chair across Giovanni, shrinking into it, and bit the bait.

“Yes sir, this was.. .this will never happen again…”

“No.” The Rocket affirmed. “It won’t. Step out, and tell your secretary you are canceling all your calls, send her home, then come back. Any side trips and I call the police.” Might as well make them be of some use. “So, what will it be?”

The lesser businessman was heading to the door, no other prompts were needed.

XXX

He kissed the mayor of Sevii’s hand, chaste mind. She was a pretty thing and old-world familiarity was hard to resist when his present companion was wrapped in such delicious temptation. She had a head of fiery red hair, a built a bit more… curvy… than was considered ideal but then he’d found most models and their stick figures dull. Her dress was slate grey with thin lines that looked white unless one viewed them from an angle. A subtle political tell that told of some open-mindedness without being garish. All in all the look was infinitely better than the miniskirt gauze things celebrities favored. The whole assemble ended in a knee-length skirt, glass stains about the edges, accidentally drawing the eye to her nice legs.

Her dishevelment was understandable considering her most recent errand had been to spend part of her afternoon hip-deep in children, and the earthy touches added to her charm.

Despite her activities, her hair was tied in complex plaits and braids, he traced their paths over her temples with his eyes as he let her hand go. A few flowers had been artlessly peppered in, a side effect of getting her hands dirty encouraging Sevii’s education system.

So, understandable.

He’d looked a bit windswept, but he’d flown near breakneck speeds to get form one side of Sevii to the other, twice. Making paparazzi tongues wag, he was sure. Giovanni’d been a hair late for his own children’s event, a mock league battle against a slew of preschoolers to encourage “human/mon enrichment” a common sort of thing the League hosted on the mainland. And for his slew of Sevii’s children he’d been unknown an oddity, she’d been a celebrity, crowed at and acknowledged by the masses.

For being unknown the children that had been assigned to him were skittish. Clinging to parent’s knees, googling up at him like a school of goldeen.

He probably shouldn’t have kept with his black outer coat, it'd been described as intimidating before. And to avoid tears he'd shucked it off on a nearby bench, sliding his wallet into his pocket and making a show of settling his gym leader’s belt front and center.

Despite his efforts they’d been quiet until he’d drawn his geodude, then they’d gotten over shyness and qued up with questions and borrowed rattata, ready and rearing to go, because, oh, that’s what a gym leader was? Someone with really rare ‘mon?

It’d both been sad and frustrating to realize these kids had never seen anything beyond rats, seagulls, and the occasional grimer before this point. But then Sevii had poached it’s ‘mon to near extinction ages ago and the ecology had never really bounced back.

Still, he’d twisted his features into a friendly smile and nodded to the furthest, the one bouncing in the back because hyperness like that needed to be exploited before something bad happened.

“Somyolderbrother’satrainerandhesaidifilookyouintheeyesyouhavetabattleisthattrue?”

“Try again, slower, and breathe a few times so you don’t pass out, and then I’ll answer.”

Surrounded by laughing peers the boy blushed, took a deep breath, recalling the Rocket to a jigglypuff, then answered, passably following orders,

It’d been a first this whole day really.

XXX

They spent the first few minutes comparing tales of their events. Their day thus far, and the weather, not really knowing each other well enough to talk about anything of substance. Grimacing at the spread of food offered on the menu, sushi mainly, understandable since Sevii was a seaside town with ambition, Giovanni picked the more palatable sounding options, deciding to try two new things, and passed his menu off to the waiter hovering over his shoulder.

“You just ordered tea?”

Apple cider tea to be exactly. He’d try it since Yellow’d suggested Silver had a soft spot for it. He figured he’d try the local flavor since Sevii was supposed to have an apple farm nearby. The drink might be better than the commercial ones he’d sampled about at Viridian’s stores. If it was good enough he’d order some of the stock in bulk and take it back to him to Viridian.

“It’s too early in the day for more… adult indulgences.”

The kids while not exactly at the adult tables weren’t too far away; if Giovanni strained his ears he could hear them bantering back and forth. Yelling at their parents, boasting about “almost winning”, that sort of thing. So he censored himself a little.

“You do this sort of thing often?”

“Not lately.” He confessed, not even a lie. Turning to accept the cup off of the returning staff. Their orders had been mixed up and the Rocket got the Mayors. She’d ordered a glass of water, with a lemon slice. Passing her drink to her and waited impatiently for his drink. Not wanting cold tea, it came and the help left without a word.

One more screw up and Giovani decided he was going to take heads, children presence be damned.

Casting him a smirk, Silvia Celen, Sevii’s first woman Mayor, hummed at him. Her blood-red lips twitched into a small smile, humming. “Love the feathers, they really make a statement.”

“The contest winner was an acrophobic, so my offer of a ride was turned down. Honchkrow gave her some feathers, too many per her, and she felt like sharing... So…” Giovanni left it hanging waved at his crown.

“You lost?”

Trying not to bristle, Giovanni snorted. “No, she managed to get a borrowed rat with zero training to jump off a Geo’s arm, land on its head, and the rat running caused it to start rolling on instinct. The fact it didn’t get pancaked or thrown for a minute was impressive enough that I called the match in her favor.”

The Mayor laughed a soft chuckle and smirked at him, there was nothing of edges and sharpness to the gesture. Just good humor. Which made the gesture almost alarming and utterly alien. He flushed like a man much younger, adverted his eyes, and swirled his cup with a lazy roll of his wrist. Not minding the way the liquid licked his fingers and burned a bit.

“Well thank you for giving me something pleasant to look forward to seeing on the evening news.”

Thinking of the disaster at Changelings, Giovanni flashed the politician across from him a wide, utterly sincere smile. The one that’d gotten him compared to Persian before making a kill. And this woman didn’t blank or blink, just… accepted.

“Oh, anytime.”

An innocent politician, would wonders never cease?

XXX

“I am so glad this didn’t’ have to get ugly, aren’t you?” Giovanni praised his newest victim, though the man had no clue. “Now then”

Pulling his suitcase up he flipped it open. “There are two ways for this to conclude. “ A stack of papers, thick and daunting, were laid out. Besides it, Giovanni laid a pen, because with ineptitude like this the man likely didn’t have one. Burnswick paled, perhaps spying the pink one under the pile, but that wasn’t Giovanni’s problem.

“Option one; we’re going to do something called a closing audit, where you disclose every email, every call, every interaction that might have led to this call occurring. You give me a nice thick data trail that you sign, seal, and confess too. Each and every person involved with this foray into treason gets listed. When you’re done, you sign the confession page on the bottom, take your early retirement, and this stays a strictly internal affair. No police, no jail cells.”

And thus the man would be ushered right into the crosshairs of a Flare assassin. But Burnswick had committed treason, willfully, so that wasn’t anyone’s problem but his own.

“That or I call my lawyer, who calls the police, and we see how long you survive in a cell. Kalos Johto war was less than twenty years ago, so I imagine the police,” and cell wardens who were mainly ex-military. "Wouldn’t look kindly on you. Considering the nature of your crime I imagine every last friend of yours would be cast into the suspicion, investigated. So tell me, is everything squared away, no dustnoir in anyone’s closets?”

Burnswick was shaking now.

“But, let’s not focus on such unpleasantness; tell me, how is your god-Grandson’s stint in that Kalosian Art College working out for him?”

A wince, probably very close to the mark that line. How droll. A man without a family using some sentimental fool’s family to his own ends. As an active agent or accidental mule, Giovanni wasn’t sure and would be something to dig into later.

It was nice how patsy’s just fell into his hands like this; he barely had to do any work.

“You know, I’ve things to do, and we’re cutting it horribly close with all this chit-chat. Should I just spare you everything and make that call?”

Burnswick snapped the pen up so fast Giovanni almost didn’t see it.

Working at a crisp speed the man started writing his social suicide note, and while mildly amusing Giovanni didn’t have all day for this. Sevii’s mayor and League obligation demanded his time and he’d accepted those duties. Presence for information, information for offer, and perhaps a project he could exploit for Rocket.

Since he had to leave, Giovanni didn’t want his newest Chatot to have such sad things as wandering attention or a flight attempt to pop up. He’d have to clip its wings and encourage an exemplary performance all while not being present.

Pulling a small orb from the bottom of the suitcase the Rocket smirked, rolled the pokeball in his hands. Oblivious, Burnswick kept writing, only looking up when Giovanni had nearly summoned the beast out of the pokeball.

“Sir?” It was a whisper, the man shuddered, cottoning on to the threat or perhaps truly so spineless any animal would upset him.

“Keep writing, Burnswick, and remember, don’t spare any details …”

XXX

“Sevii’s biodiversity and geological limitations are unfortunate because it makes the island unsuitable to host a league all on its own. You’ve industrialized too much, ‘mon requires a certain amount of space and territory and… While beautiful in the human-centric aspect… someone had to lose out. And in this case, the ‘mon did.”

She grimaced. “And if I suggest terraforming as a solution I’ll be up to my ears in Magma wanting to “help”.”

“And rabid environmental factions who will stage protests from beach to beach.” Giovanni conceded. Alluding Aqua without bothering to speak their name. Those faux pirates weren't really worth the effort.

“Definitely not something I want to drag into Sevii. I do want to get re-elected after all.”

Giovanni worked his chopsticks, sushi was not his preferred meal but he’d tolerate it. Sevii was an ambitious sea side port, so the ingredients were less likely to be sketchy. And though a bit childish he began picking out a decorative frill of onion knotted in a wisp of seaweed that was twisted into an artistic a spiral in the food’s center.

“Really we’ve been lucky, well Sevii’s been lucky.” The Mayor was saying. “Geology and oceanography met just right and our Cloysters produce pearls at an almost alarming rate. I’ll give my predecessors credit where it’s due, they didn’t fish everything to death and ruin us all together.”

“Don’t sell yourself short.” The damned thing was out; he twined it about one stick, shaking off the unwanted additive with a small tap. “You’re the one who diversified the country’s economic portfolio. You turned a one ponyta town into the heads of water sciences of two regions and you’re pioneering things in eco-restoration that Aqua would kill for. It’ll be near impossible to bring Sevii down unless a dullard takes over after your second term. Sevii, through your programs, is stable and the island can hold to its fiscal security near indefinitely if you, and your replacements, play your cards right. If you weren’t so dogged in public service I’d wine and dine you into the claws of Viridian Corp in a heartbeat.”

“High praise, indeed, Mr. Sakaki.”

“Think of it as an open-ended offer, if you get bored.”

He’d broken his roll into thirds and swept up the smaller piece up and consumed it in a bite. It wasn’t as unbearable as it could be, and despite his efforts tastes mainly of onion. She ate hers, nipping the edges and working her way in with near endearing single-mindedness.

“How’s Team Rocket?”

It takes effort not to strangle on his bite; her Mayorship had impeccable timing when springing that question on him just as he was swallowing.

And his mind it being utterly irrelevant, is imaging Green strolling through the halls of Sevii’s base, look-seeing at the varied ‘mon and experiment rooms. Getting her fingerprints on his desk. Battling grunts and scientists and raising hell. His skin crawls at the mayhem she could raise if she found the override for the cells and released the varied pokemon within-

Well, realistically, a mass release and rescue seemed more of a Yellow thing to do, Green’d likely take what water ‘mon caught her fancy to round out her team.

“I apologize,” He’s swallowing, trying not to imagine either of the ex-dex holders releasing anything and everything they could get with his override codes.

Which technically was everything because those are his codes.

And though wildly unrealistic the image is not leaving his head, even though he knows Green has no clue as to where Sevii’s Base is at and thus the code and card is utterly worthless for her.

“Team Rocket’s just not something normally taken up as… luncheon conversation. Much less public conversation.” He croaked, taking a drink he tries again. “There are children about-“

As if to prove his point one of them starts yowling, it sounds like a fight, and another voice goes up, a scuffle in the making. Shame it doesn’t devolve into a full-on mini-riot. That’d of made a good conversation killer.

“I can only imagine it hurts you on the PR level at least, it’s said their upper echelon is Italian after all. And I know this is a bit.. late but I am sincerely sorry for my predecessor's accusations.”

Her predecessor had referred to Archer as a Sicilian Gangbanger, all without knowing that it was basically the truth. The incident had been triggered by a politician hearing Archer hit on a barista in Italian.

Perhaps that’s why she’d thought Viridian Corp had never settled on Sevii and established business relations. If she thought he would hold a grudge for ten years.. well, she wasn’t wrong and was blissfully oblivious that he had many ways to make such irritants pay beyond waiting them out.

“Think nothing of it, but for now… perhaps.. a change of topic?”

 

[K_S]

Spoiler: Trigger and content warnings

TW: Giovanni has a flashback, and is a vicious piece of work contemplating murder, torture, among other things after said flashback. Also, there are some adult conversations about sexually transmitted diseases and other fun fact checks some adults carry on about before having a fling together. Nothing comes of it in the carnal sense though so not quite sure where that'd be in the ranking system, honestly. Also, intimidation, blackmail, and the threat of inflicting rabies on someone are candidly discussed as well.

Personal experience had taught him that luring the altruistic away from their passion was a tiresome process that usually backfired more often than not. And even if an asset was culled they lost something of their fire, their drive, once pulled from their preferred causes. The moral shift of working for oneself to any organization caused a kind of stagnation, which affected their productivity.


The end result was that the pursuit was a waste of resources and it was better to just let them be, coax them to shift direction rather than replant them. Thus his ties to Changelings and a few varied smaller enterprises well below his paygrade so he’d have ready tools to twists and shift the terrain around any would-be idealist he needed to snap up while leaving them oblivious to their… place in his plans.


Still, he found a pleasure in the process of corruption despite its wastefulness. The dimming of the hope in their eyes, the degradation of their principals as they traced a path from pushing boundaries, to tracing a path through a twilight of greys, until they, at last, found themselves in his colors, and under his thumb.


He had no plans to pursue things to that final stages with Sevii’s mayor. None whatsoever. She was a charming woman, pretty in the ways he liked, and close enough to his age to be properly alluring. Her morals were a quirk that he could work around if need be. This didn’t need to end in acquisition for either himself or Team Rocket.


However, her flattery did tip her hand that she might be amiable to wearing his colors, if in a rather less than chaste sense.


“You’re quite skilled with your hands.”


He froze one moment, two, and then smirked, twisting the onion skin and kelp between the two sticks. Showing off a bit, he twined the last bit into a geometric pattern, flaunting his dexterity a bit.


“One of my many talents I assure you.”


The grin across the table confirmed that the good leader of Sevii was not quite as innocent as she’d put on.


“So, are you doing anything tonight?”


Or patient, so affirmed the leg that was sidling against his own. It took effort to hum noncommittally. To just tip an eyebrow at her and give no further tells. She withdrew her leg, perhaps believing he wasn’t interested but being a gentleman about it.


Well, he’d debase her of that, in due time.


“Actually I do need to touch base, run a few errands, business you understand… But after say… six-thirty I’m quite available for nearly anything.”


“Make it seven and you have a date.”


“Best offer I’ve had all day.”


XXX


“Animal services will be by to excise your guest about 6 pm,” Giovanni’d released the rabid zubat. The beast was on the knife’s edge between dangerous and intractable…. The ‘bat drooled thick ropes of grey, not quite foaming, not quite insane, but likely to be more hostile at this stage of infection. A nudge and the beast rose from his gloved hands, settling on the ceiling by Burnwicks’ office door. “You don’t leave and no one enters and I expect your… friend… will be quite content to sleep the day away. While he’s napping I expect your paperwork to be completed. Come six PM the door opens, you pass the people who step in those papers and their tag-along psychic does a scan of your efforts and mind for any discrepancies, cut corners, and if everything checks out they get rid of your guest and you get to start your retirement. If it isn’t, then the ‘bat stays, and what happens happens.”


Burnswick was shaking, face pale, goggling up at the flying rat on his roof with a terror better leveled at a rabid Charizard.


“Do have a good day Mr. Burnswick, and keep in mind, this bat, or one just like it, can come back any time if you decide to be untruthful, or cheat me again. Any time at all.”


He’d been a bit melodramatic, sweeping out of Changeling’s window on his honchkrow, but time had been of the essence and he hadn’t wanted to take the stairs back down or risk setting off his sleeping “agent” as it were.


Then there’d been of course the rest of his civilian obligations, the kids and mayor and whatnot, he’d broken bread with Sevii’s elite and been bemused to find he would be doing so again for dinner.


Come six pm, settled in his hotel room, Giovanni was changing into something more suiting to an evening out on the town rather than intimidation. He’d tried on two ties, and decided on a splash of red about his throat would look best, a touch of contrast and humor though Sevii’s mayor would likely never get the joke in a hundred years. Settling everything just so, he hummed a tuneless melody. Tipping his head a bit, he considered his reflection in the mirror. While not an animate shrub, his facial hair could be a bit aggressive if he didn’t keep on top of it, and he waffled about running a blade over what little had had the chance to grow in. Knife in hand, flat tapping in time with the tune in his head, Giovanni was considering a quick touch-up when he heard his phone buzz. He spared the device a glance, and to the uneducated what was on the screen looked like a spam pop-up. But even unopened the Rocket could discern the relevant tells that told him this was a business outreach. And per the efforts and coding present, it was a less than legal one.


Clicking the blade shut Giovanni lay it by the sink and swapped knife for tech. One tap and it was open, past the splash page and he perused the document on tubbaware transport, he didn’t have to dredge up a key, just picked up the relevant information in his head. The information had been garnered, their “asset” envenomed by accident and whisked away to a facility to be treated and chipped with a Rotom tracker, one of the prototypes, his transplanted R and D team at “Rotom” were quite the busy little Bidoofs.


He clicked to accept the news and allowing for antidote and tracker to be applied, forwarding a review that when decoded would allow them to apply a prototype loyalty chip on the man. And to plant assets in place so the President’s results could be observed upon release.


Then he nipped into the bathroom to touch up his hair, and head on out.


XXX


He’d rather wished Sevii’s mayor, would not mix business with pleasure, but she did. The “traditional” play they’d nipped into to watch had been amusing. A variant on a familiar bit of folklore wrapped up in more silk and melodrama than it was warranted, still, it’d been a visual treat at least. After though… the dinner was divine, a secluded room, discreet ‘mon staff so no humans could wag their tounges, and a swirl in the air that affirmed there were obscuring psychic energies about to distort and disable cameras and wires so no media could record anything. Such luxury was a treat and they’d passed the meal hammering out economic reforms in both their “regions” perhaps breaking the edges o the law with their chatter. None could overhear so why not?


When she moved on to political matters there was a strain in keeping what he should know from what he did, and a few cups in his repast was making his tongue a bit looser than it should be as Sevii wines were flavorful and potent, he’d nearly forgotten how potent they could be.


During a refill of their drinks, she considered something, then hummed. “You know, we’ve discussed Aqua and Magma, but… Well, they aren’t here… but… What are your experiences with Team Rocket, just as preparatory note-taking mind?”


It took effort not to smile, how could one prepare for what was already nestled against the heart, slowly killing integrity as it settled? Well, he’d lead her on and see what she’d thought, for amusement more than anything else…


“Preparatory?” Giovanni frowned, tipping his head as if confused.


“Sevii’s doing very well for itself…” She left it hanging, taking a slow sip to give him time to perhaps gather his thoughts..


“Ah the, do well get preyed on myth.” He noted tone so dry that she smiled, perhaps without meaning too.


“Well I’m sure you’d know the myths from the truth considering they’ve been active in Kanto… how long?”


“Quite a while, probably since before I was born.” Giovanni drawled, not giving away any truth just then.


His great, great, great, grandmother had been Rocket’s founder, and the Sakaki family had drifted in and out of the syndicate every few generations. Giovanni’d not getting in the Game until after adolescence, very late for a Mobster who was normally inducted at birth. And even then he’d not fully committed himself until after Silver’s abduction. Silver’s loss had made Giovani reassess many things, most of them being how “good” he was willing to be. With his son’s absence in his life, Giovanni’d found there was no rule, no law, no stigma he’d not break to get his son back. Thus Rocket had evolved from a useful outlet for an occasional foray into vice into a resource to be twisted to his own ends.


And while ultimately altruistic, as most would perceive saving a child to be, the ends had not justified the means. He'd murdered most of the old syndicate and raised up his own men to replace the old. And when they rebelled, high on power, he’d culled them again and again until fear had twisted into loyalty.


“There are.. so many myths. Honestly… Despite what the Champion is saying in Kanto most view Rocket as a necessary evil.” Giovanni tipped his glass, admiring the way the wine shifted just so, making his fingers look red seemed courtesy of the room's lighting and the glasses’ translucency in that moment. “They don’t take more than a ten percent cut on most people’s livelihoods when you sit down and do the math and they have been recorded to tackling encroaching Aqua and Magma cells, something Kanto’s military won’t even acknowledge exist…”


“I heard about that mess in Shinnoh… Some kid tackling Galactic Corp… About Cyrus’… episode…”


Or rather televised insanity. His rant about unmaking and red string, that’d been circling the dark web for a while now, enough so that it was starting to leak beyond Shinnoh’s borders and be spoken about on the main media outlets. As much as something international could, anyway.


“That’s not the only mess on the global scale. Though it’s utterly hush hush there’s some gossip about Lysander Corp being tied to Flare.” Giovanni hummed. “I’ve pulled Viridian Corp out of all business dealings and negotiations with Kalos because of it since separating Lysandre from Kalos’ economy is too much of a hassle.”


“I’ve considered doing much the same,” Silvia admitted. “It’s just getting the legalese past the lawyers… I don’t want to cut off commercial tied indefinitely, just until Lysander’s found guilty… or otherwise. I could push through, some moral investigative clause that’d drag things out a bit more… But…”


But per her word choice, that guilty affirmed the good Mayor was not above using less than legal sources to fact check. Not that those sources were inaccurate, still information control and trade laws prohibited the free sharing of information unless all the governments involved could agree on what was to be published.


“Accidents, wrong dates, wrong representation summoned, pressing engagements elsewhere, small crises…” Giovanni ticked off excuses and reasons with his calloused fingers. “There are more mundane reasons to stall.”


“Not without looking like a complete idiot in front of the masses.”


Which a political rival would snap up with both hands. To that Giovanni considered variables, outs, and decided not to bother. Her longevity in her field wasn’t his concern, and if his humor waned too far he could find other amusements this night.


The Rocket shrugged. “This is why business is better. You don’t have to worry about looking bad, you don’t have to get reelected….’


“Don’t tempt me.”


“But my good mayor,” And these one-liners were the lure, really. He idly wondered what other talents her tongue could be employed for, allowing a sliver of lust to color his tone. “What else am I supposed to be doing right now?”


He could see the temptation, to let work drop, to not be “the mayor”, for that one moment, perhaps for the rest of her life, writ on the care lines about her face, the impulse cast in the glint of her eyes, the want settled into the set of her shoulders. Responsibility was a familiar burden, and she’d weathered it, but the option of not having to do so…


Her morals were the only thing holding her back, that and her worries about reelection.


And he was not averse to helping her lose that battle, for just one night, if that’s all she wanted. Truthfully he couldn’t see them trading favors more than a handful of times, so one night would likely be best.


And there was an added angle of him, personally, being her temptation. That he could draw her from the glaring blacks and whites of ridged morality to that silken skein of grey twilight, those first, delectable, steps down…


“If you have any suggestions, I’m amiable.” He offered, voice dipping to a purr. He set his hand over hers, thumb stroking her pulse point, and he could feel it quicken under his touch. “Anything at all.”


She considered him, eyes skimming over his physic, part in interest, part in caution. Reasonable really. He wasn’t a small man by any means, and perhaps she was seeing that better now. Flirtation of this tenor had a different angle when one was alone versus when there were witnesses. He waited, patient because if nothing else came of this he had other alternatives. If this was as far as it, staying in the binds of platonic then that was fine.


“Any dark secrets I should know about before we go further?” She’d decided and he smirked, pleased with her decision enough to ignore her acidic candor. He waved for the check, the service Froslass disappeared with a shimmer of displaced air.


“I’m… responsible… physically. Nothing odd in the checkup you should be worried about, nothing to catch as it were.” He quirked an eyebrow and she cottoned on well enough for him not to need to elaborate further. “No wife waiting to murder us both at my hotel…”


“Who said we were going to your hotel?”


Hm… well that was a surprise. He warmed, at the opportunities to snoop and at her apparent impulse to trust him, and let some of that inflect his tone, near making him playful. “Any renegade other halves lurking in your abode?”


“I feed a krabby at the back door at six am sharp, before my morning run. If I’m not out to feed him he crabhammers through the door.”


“Horrors.” A chill from the ‘mon returning, hardly a premonition there. “You’re a morning pidgy with a pet. I’ll likely sleep through that.” He warned. “As I’m a bit of a night hoothoot myself. If I’m sleeping deeply or dreaming… it’s best to avoid touching me directly. Shaking me awake, particularly grabbing me, is... not a good idea.”


One of his flings had filed assault charges because she hadn’t listened to him. While he’d gotten the charges dropped, and paid for her medical bills, they’d left on sour terms and she’d tried to drag his name into the mud in a fit of spite.


Rocket had dealt with her directly, a string of arsons had encouraged her to “start afresh in Orre” and he’d been done. The media had had other ideas and hounded him, his official statement was to say that she had been an idiot, a pre-warned one, and then he’d sued the news rags for invasion of privacy as they weren’t, in Kanto at least, allowed to publish anything carnal.


It’d been the one time the censorship and decency laws had some him much good.


While he was mellowed a bit, night terrors weren’t an impossibility, and the dearling eyes Sevii’s mayor canted at him were useful in other ways.


“If this makes you uncomfortable in any way, nothing has to hap-“


She was a daring little dearling, sweeping his tie in her hands to draw him down and lock their lips with amusing aggression. Of course, that’s when the service ‘mon had to reappear, a chilled hand at his back made him jerk them back, he shuffling her behind him, pulse hammering in his throat, hand snapping over his belt. Rhydon one toss away.


It took a moment to regain his senses. To realize in his head and gut that this wasn’t the Mask of Ice, or one of his ‘mon, this wasn’t a hit, just an insensitive ‘mon wanting to return the check, signify everything was signed off, and disappear in a swirl of snow. He pocketed the check, hands scarcely shaking, drawing one breathe, than another, flight and flight settling into a dull rage.


He’d have that ‘mons head in due time… but for now, a warm hand brushed his sleeve and he glanced back. He’d pinned her between him and the table, ushed her almost under it. Old habits from old grunt days, guard duty had left it’s mark on him he supposed. While she could have slipped past him at any time she’d frozen, then gone along with his lead perhaps realizing he wasn't quite there. Now, shock on the decline, she crept out from the unneeded cover, utensil rattling as she jarred the table as she straightened.


Unaware of the wine glass that’d tipped over, leaving a few spots on her dress. She gauged him, his sanity, her face reflecting nothing but concern.


Normally his rage would have invoked terror in any who saw it, or damned determination to put him down, but Sevii’s mayor was an outlier it seemed.


“Alright Gio’?”


“Fine.” He’d set the ‘mon in boiling water, watch it melt, and break down in slow screaming stages. It took effort not to clench his teeth, to not snarl. “Perhaps.. tomorrow then…”


Because delusional deity ‘mon and saints both he was not in the mood for anything less than murder right now.


“Are you alright to be alone?”


The red was receding from his vision, his pulse wasn’t quite drowning out the world, and he knew himself to know the answer was, superficially, a yes. He’d be drained once the last of the rage cooled, but not a danger to himself. And once his lethargy passed he’d be fine, a nap would likely reverse most of the damages the deluge of stress had triggered.


A scuffle, as a human realized what had occurred, and hushed voices warned of a manager was being summoned. While part of him perked up at the chance to unleash some of his rage at a deserving target, the fingers brushing his wrist reminded him of the semipublic setting and his status as a civilian.


He’d have to abstain from a few of the more obvious temptations just then.


And then Silvia brushed past him and, curiously, took point. So that when the manager approached, to scrape and bow and apologize… The staff dealt with her, not him. And whatever higher powers there may be, they shed a bit of mercy on a Sakaki for once.


It wasn’t quite murder, but she flayed into the man with an expert tongue and a razor astuteness that was almost a slave to his soul. She served as cover for him to gracefully bow out, and he took it. Because if he didn’t there might be bodies at the end of the day. He slid out a side door and settled under a broken street light, watching the poorly illuminated parking lot to affirm there was no one lurking, with cameras or otherwise. Alone, he focused on breathing, to better tame his rage to a manageable level, rolling Nidoking’s pokeball in his hands as he weighed the pros and cons of setting off an earthquake to bring the building down.


Her voice carried well beyond the “privacy aura” clearly someone had skimped on their psychic type staff’s training among, other things. Still tipping his head up he could see the purely cosmetic effect rippling the air about the windows. Sound carried through the shimmer just fine and he’d been infinitely glad they hadn’t taken a window seat during the dinner.


“There is a lunatic in Kanto snapping people up with ice types left, right, and center.” Muttering, a male’s voice, low and meek, Giovanni could almost hear the words. The tone screamed excuse, and spineless. Proven by the good mayor’s… “You ID’d us both when I made the reservations, so how the Hell did you not know his nationality? How dare you set any Kantoian with an ice type when that Mask lunatic is still at large!”


“If we’d been informed beforehand…”


Things went downhill from there, for the staff.


When Silvia stormed out, he was waiting by her car to dissuade any would–be–thieves or vengeful staff from taking a crack at it. Nidoking was pocketed and undisturbed and Giovanni was worn but not quite ready to crash.


“Do you need me to drive?”


She seemed startled, to find him waiting up for her as it were. He canted her a tight smile, perhaps to reassure her, but mainly because she looked quite attractive in her rage and he wasn’t above admiring her for it in that moment.


He caught the keys she tossed him, amused again at her trust, anger mainly a ghost of itself now. Though he would repay the staff back their ineptitude, send Archer along with appropriate instructions, that was for later. For now, he slid into the driver’s side and she threw herself into the passenger's, still seething.


But still well enough to give him instructions, snappish surly ones, but instructions all the same that he was able to easily follow.


She had, quite understandably, a beachside home. It wasn’t quite a mansion, and more than spacious enough for them both and a few ‘mon to co-habit, no problems. There was no battlefield in front of it, and nothing in the back though he wasn’t quite sure on that since there were palm trees serving as a visual block between the places front to grant the back some privacy. Whitewashed walls, shingled roof, he tallied windows and doors out of habit, and under her orders swung the car around to park at the carport beside the entryway.


He slipped out, then, nipped around to let her out. Old habits really died hard, and she let him ease her out, twining her arm about his though she hardly needed help with the balance even as he passed her the keys.


“It was…”


Well, presently, it was incredibly awkward. The whole evening was fine until it wasn’t… His head was a mess and he was bone-weary tired and not looking forwards to flying back to his hotel on his Honchcrow…


Manners, old habits, guided him as he twitched his lips into a small smile. “Interesting…”


“And you’re a damned bad liar. And I’m tired and frustrated enough to be insufferable. But we’ll live.” Sevii’s mayor huffed. She tugged him along after her, stomping across the pavement. And tired, he just went with it. “Just come on already, you aren’t flying back and cabs don’t come out here… I can at least put you up for the night… And not one word about how that sounded!”


Bemused, he followed her lead. Memorizing her security pin override out of habit, rather than malice, he lingered long enough on her porch to send Honchkrow off into the night to his rooms. He had an overnight bag for this sort of situation and had he been in a region where a car had been viable… Well, Sevii was small enough to do without and he hadn’t set the bag on the ‘mons saddle since he wouldn’t have been able to withdraw the ‘mon if he had.


So off the bird went.


Giovanni lingered in her kitchen, a room more dark and shapes than anything since he didn’t bother with the lights, listening to the tick of a clock that he couldn’t see, while she went deeper into her home, to clean up and change. When she came back, in a set of PJs that drew on the idea of pearly white and flower speckled, to check up on him, he was half in half out of sleep ware that his ‘mon had filched from his rooms. Or rather he had managed to wrangle the bottoms on. His shoes were kicked under her couch, the sleep shirt in his lap. There was a tear courtesy of a beak and he was running the damaged fabric over his hands, worrying at the wetness of the tear.


“You don’t have to be that much of a gentleman, considering…” She waved a hand to encapsulate their previous plans, an almost painful throwing-away gesture then and there. At the very least the Rocket’s ego smarted a bit.


“I’ve no plans of it, just taking in my losses.”


“Need anything, blanket, water, that sort of thing?”


Seviii was warm, near tropical all year long; blankets were more overkill than anything else. As for the rest...


“I’ll manage to find what I need if I need anything…” He flopped over her couch, bemused how his planned amorous evening had turned into this. “Your generosity…” He swallowed. “Just… thank you.”


Could he have managed alone, yes? Would he have, he’d expected nothing less than to be alone after this evening, regardless of how it had gone. He’d anticipated to have to hang on that precipice of paranoia and anger until there’d been bodies stacked to balance the scales, and while there would be in due time, there was no rush now. No need to slate a burning frustration. Her generosity and distraction was a double blessing and as he settled with a pillow on Silvia’s couch, he was near bemused at his own gratitude.


It was just so damned odd.


She left him to it, and he in turn returned the favor. Laying in the dark, staring at an unfamiliar ceiling, he wondered what type of nightmares he’d have due to this night. Would it be the ones where he’d failed to kill Mask and Silver was retaken? Or would he dream where he was Silver, suffering cold walls that burned at the touch and the assorted horrors Green had described or that his subconscious would cook up, twisting Green’s tales with his own sadism and leaving his mind to suffer all the more for it?


And perhaps mercy was the theme of the day, because between one idle thought and another he drifted into a dreamless sleep, thoughts not twisting to dreams, horrors, or otherwise.

 

[K_S]

Spoiler: Minor Manga Spoilers

So Yellows a bit odd... as a Child of Viridian Forest she sees the Forest as her mother and it's skewed her thinking a bit. So her perspective when it comes up is a little unique as she sees people as 'mon and relates more to 'mon things than human issues. Since she'd taking the helm for part of this chapter I figure I'd give a heads up for the perspective shift.

Part of her tone takes from the fic Made for Team Rocket a borderline M tale told from a displaced Yellows worldview.

He slept through her departure, waking a bit stiff since though aesthetically pleasing, the couch wasn’t meant for prolonged habitation. Habit had him poke around the home, memorize the layout. He left the obvious temptations a regular mobster would have fell for alone. Poorly hidden jewelry, a purse left on the counter, though a quick perusal of a side room converted into a work office did lead to him discovering a password list. Pretending some interest in a painting by her computer, a pastoral scene, wooloo rolling about it like misplaced clouds, he made a show of doing some research on his phone. Just in case there was some sort of security system running, either from the computer or elsewhere. A few flicks and he had his phone sticking out of his pocket, soundlessly recording. With luck, he would have a freeze-frame of all the information he needed. But if not, he wouldn’t be sacrificing much by sending someone else to break in and take what needed to be taken.

Clearly, Silvia was a fan of the artist, he found six more paintings, pastoral and forest themed about the house. The living room had a picture of a large forest scene that reminded him of Viridian, save none of the ‘mon were right. It was a roundabout answer to an old idle question about what those who lived in beach paradises found alluring for their art at long last, for this woman at least, she had a favoring of his backyard at Kanto.

Awake in full he took a few liberties. Not wanting to go through what equated a friendly stranger's fridge to put something together he ordered a takeaway from a breakfast place that normally wouldn’t tolerate such. He knew the owners, they owed him some favors, so they bent the rules and so cooking and haste was taken out of his morning for the cost of a bit of friendly extortion. Honchkrow was sent off with instructions not to drool on or impale the package and then Giovanni was alone in the silent home.

Yawning, he poked about the bathroom, the guest one, leaving the one attached to the master bedroom be. A quick perusal affirmed the good Mayor did not have male visitors over often enough to have basic accommodations for their grooming, and while it was nice to know there was no “competition” it was a mild inconvenience.

Or would have been, if he hadn’t packed certain necessities in his night-over bag out of sheer habit.

When Silvia returned, wearing a jogging uniform that was both bright and left little to the imagination, he’d changed out of his PJs and was bundled in a casual attire not quite street, but lax enough to make her raise an eyebrow. Or that might have been the Krabby at his feet, who’d been eating bits and bobs off of his fingers. Winded, but not worn, form-fitting garb a bit of a treat though perhaps a bit uncomfortable for it, the Mayor of Sevii wished him a good morning, a bit breathlessly.

He nodded acknowledgment to the salutation, “I took some liberties and ordered breakfast. Made a bit of a spread on a table.” Her kitchen table, though he’d play ignorant a bit. “I didn’t want to cross any lines and snoop so it's plastic utensils and the like, but the food will hold, so, no rush.”

“You are an utter gentleman,” She praised him, a peck was his reward for basic human decency. It was amusing to find she was one of those types, effusive and warm, good to know and anticipate such vulnerabilities. “I’ll just…” She waved, indicating her rather wind and run tousled hair and proof of obvious exertions.

“Enjoy, and I’ll catch up in a bit. I’m going to let out my ‘mon for their morning checkup, but I’ll keep it to your driveway…”

“More than fine,” Nevermind it hadn’t been a request for permission. “Just don’t leave anything rocky or whatever that the car’s tires might have an issue with.”

She slipped in and after nudging the amiable bit of seafood back towards the shoreline with a toe he drew out Nidoking, who’d of eaten the shelled creature without a thought if Giovanni hadn’t shoed it off. Mercy of mercy, ‘King was not entering molt. Unfortunately, the beast’s nostrils flared, scenting the seafood, and he became irritable and double venomous when he wasn’t given leave to hunt up his breakfast that morning.

XXX

“Obviously I’m never going back there.” Thus one of Sevii’s hot spots had faded into the noriority of not being named. There’d been a book’s villain that had done something similar, though for more sinister reasons, Though Giovanni couldn’t remember the tale or character beyond that one fact.

“Still there duplicity in advertising privacy and not upholding it should be looked into.” The Rocket noted, raising his voice so it’d carry over the running water. “They’re putting fake barriers to fool their clientele; while I could go through legal routes I think an official government investigation effort would be more impactful. Reviews can be edited and lawyers paid off, after all.”

Not his. But she didn’t know that. And it wasn’t as if he hadn’t made a few plans of his own, but being a gentleman he was letting her go first.

“Think we can pin them for false advertising?”

“Oh, bare minimum.” There weren’t many dishes still he handled them. Leaving her to wander off to tackle her calls and emails in her at-home office without an audience. When she was done she returned, and he was in the process of drying his hands on a towel wrapped around the fridge hand bar. Not quite done with cleaning, as he hadn’t dried and set everything away, still, he left what he’d done in the drying rack, and leave her to do the finishing touches when she wanted. Stepping from the cooking island to the kitchen wasn’t much of a trip, just a few feet, and the tiles should have been like ice. There clearly was some sort of insulation, perhaps even a coil keeping back the traditional chill, an interesting modification that he might look into.

While not averse to a bit of cold he’d have to find a way to gauge Silver’s sensitivity, if something like this could help, he’d pay for it, after all, money wasn’t a concern.

Nursing her morning cup of water, she looked up at his return, green eyes scrolling over him, idle thoughts and temptations obvious. Still, with her, it was business before pleasure.

A shame.

“Listen, I will definitely look into that and I probably can do most of it without needing a statement... If you’ve nothing planned that could cause complications...”

Really it’d be droll if she ever did figure out what he was and what he did, complications, indeed.

He smiled, shrugged “I’ve nothing big planned. This is more a vacation spot than anything and I’m not one to rock the boat since I don’t plan on staying. Besides dropping hints in local businessman’s ears to avoid the place,” if he ordered all the ones he owned in Sevii to avoid the place they’d lose half their clientele overnight, not that either the Mayor or facility knew that. Giovanni shrugged, hiding anticipation under a facade of indifference. “Nothing more seems needed.”

Legally mind.

He’d already sent Archer orders to scope the terrain and see if they could have another ghost ‘mon added to Rotom’s “testing” team. Ice and death, even if the twin typing ruined its compatibility for the control chip program; the essence of a froslass could be employed in various “treatments” done in the lower levels.

Perhaps he could make Mask his first test subject.

He looked relatively cheery he supposed, even as she bristled a bit. Clearly thinking he was settling for doing too little.

“I don’t see the point in perusing things further than that.” He concluded.

She huffed, but calmed a bit, after all, if he wasn’t irate then her being so on his behalf probably felt a bit foolish. Well, it was a bit foolish considering his personal plans, but still…

“I’ll definitely be making some calls.” She grit out and Giovanni chuckled.

“I’m hardly one of the “little folk” needing your protection my dear, quite the opposite.” She had finished her cup and he gathered it up, doing a cursory wipe down and it joined its kin in the rack after a few moments of attention.

“Last night wasn’t bad despite…” She grimaced, not willing to rehash the disaster at the evening’s end. “And this morning’s been… nice… How long are you staying in Sevii?”

“A few days. I don’t anticipate more than two weeks but things may change.”

It depended on how rebellious Lysandre’s cells were, how deeply entrenched they were, and how many bodies were left to dispose of after. He had nothing concrete in the cards having wrapped up his legal affairs with Burnswick, and he wasn’t going to approach his Sevii Rocket base until Archer had ran a specific errand for him that would lead to Green’s card become a pretty piece of plastic and a proper working one was back in Giovanni’s hands.

“How busy are you… say… day after tomorrow?”

Lips curling into a smirk, the Rocket hummed. Truthfully, he was utterly free. Honestly, he didn’t want her to know that. “Things are relatively quiet, barring an emergency; I’m available any time after lunch on that day but not for much longer today…”

Not if he wanted to visit a specific bit of art on one of Viridian Co’s fringe operations at just the right time he might encounter Frank. And if not, well he could nip in and terrorize the president of that company with an offer of a merger that he had no intention of honoring.

“Unfortunately my duties aren’t that light. I’ll be trapped in the office until five, but there is a nice art gallery open until seven that day. Reasonably close, I could meet you there and perhaps… make an evening of it?”

“Claudia Sanders’s work?” Such had been where his polygon one search engine results led him after he scanned the first painting.

“You’re familiar? They’re a bit of a local legend, hellishly prolific, and with a new exhibit thrown up nearly every month. I’ve a few of their pieces and…” Reaching up she twined a red lock between her fingers, seeming to use the motion to stem her girlish enthusiasm. “You’ll have to forgive me a bit of bragging. It’s rare that I can show them off to... well a foreigner.”

“Sounds like quite the treat.” The Rocket agreed. “I’ll pick you up then, after work?”

“Not on the bird?” Her tone was nearly as weary as the acrophobic child’s had been, to that Giovanni smirked.

“I’ve got a marvelously well trained Khangaskaun…” To the resulting expression, part fear, part mental tangent that she wasn’t going to share for anything if the flush about her cheeks meant anything, Giovanni laughed. “I guess we can write a scathing review on whatever cab service jipes us considering our luck. Though, if you are concerned about security I can rent a car with the proper protections, no trouble at all.”

“It’s walking distance.”

“I’ll make sure Matriarch is willing to carry two then.”

She snorted, realizing perhaps he was joking. Perhaps hoping he was. He decided he'll has Matriarch available and out when Silvia did nip out of work, for the treat of her expression more than anything else.

XXX

It’s said certain traits were genetic, even the nonsensical ones. Studies had been done, on small things, like expression and gestures. The twisting of someone’s face, when amused, could mirror a twin’s even though they’d never met and lived wildly different lives.

So it wasn’t too surprising to Yellow that she could see some of Giovanni’s smugness in Silver’s features as he hummed and prodded at a site he’d dredged up.

“I’m pretty sure the local library didn’t mean for you to take the laptop off of the premises,” Yellow noted, pulling off her sun hat as she walked into her bedroom. She’d already told Uncle Will’ “hi,” and after the forum greetings about how her day went, she was a bit “humaned” out. So far, fine, still worked in deflecting most chatter, and his unanticipated addition, of “was she hungry?” was easily evaded just by being honest.

Yellow had plans, to go upstairs, take a nap, but Silver’s presence changed things. The redhead was curled into a near crescent at the foot of her bed, back to the wall, turned so he could see the door and the window he’d picked open and left open. The boy’s trademark ratty coat was folded and put on the floor, keeping his shoes a sort of company, and to avoid tracking in whatever… he’d piled both shoes and coat in a corner by the window. He’d probably shucked them off and whipped them over the open window to get rid of leaves, branches, and dirt.

How Uncle Will hadn’t heard that, or any of the neighbors saw anything was a bit of a mystery, and one Yellow wasn’t in a rush to solve.

Silver clearly registering her complaint for he lifted his head, to meet her gaze and huff, “yeah, it tried to turn the internet service off remotely. I just switched it to your neighbor’s wi-fi so I could keep working. I’ll give it back tomorrow when they open.”

And piece done, he was done talking. Silver met her gaze, head tipped, waiting for her to tell him to go or not. Considering it was late Yellow wasn’t going to shoe him off. So she just went deeper into the room, and her non-comment, the lack of complaint, was enough of a comfort for the boy to settle back down, to curl a little tighter around his purloined tech and plots.

Sweeping off her sun hat and picking off the leaves Mother Forest had dropped on her head without her noticing, Yellow hummed a tune she’d heard some pidgy warbling earlier. Settling the brittle leaves so they made an off-green flower of sorts, Yellow hung the hat up, makeshift art pinned in place by shifting the hat’s ribbon. She’d keep it there, show Mother when she visited her tree, and make a point to gush because Mother loved when Yellow turned her leaves into something pretty. Kicking off her sandals, Yellow considered the mildly dirty socks under them, then considered the floor had seen worse and didn’t fuss with them. She popped her shoes in her closet, being careful not to rattle the hanging shirts and skirts about since when that happened the lot looked like it was a host of ghastlys being playful and Yellow didn’t like ghosts or thinking of them, not one bit.

Despite being “human”ed out, Yellow didn’t mind Silver staying. There was something about him that she’d heard others (particularly Red) dub as off, but felt homelike to her. It took time, many visits, and a bit of thinking under the Forest trees, but she’d come to something like an answer. Fittingly a walk with Sneasel had solidified the idea in Yellow’s head.

And it was a strange idea, to be sure, but it felt more right than the “off”ness that Red fixated on or the “cold”ness that Gold had obsessed over.

Or scaled up to uglier things post-Ilex, but only once, because Yellow hadn’t talked to either of them after, and had no plans to do so ever again...

Silver felt more like a Weevil than a person. If Yellow closed her eyes and listened she could feel and hear the brittle cracks grind together. Where Silver’s psyche, part ice, part secrets, part deep deep pain, ground together, only half-healed. He left cold where he lingered. Or rather, a subdued heat, since people weren’t ‘mon, something Yellow had to fight to remember most days.

The redhead was an odd creature in that he’d never figured out how to be warm and bright. His smile, when he dared one, was edged. Like he had fangs instead of his teeth. And he was shy in showing his teeth. It was as if his own sharp prickliness scared him.

Still, he could smile, and it was like his humor. It came and went, super-fast, and usually came when he was plotting something or watching someone he didn’t like suffer.

Giovanni had smiled like that too. The first time he had shied away from her, as if wary of spooking her with his edges. Until Yellow had told him that’s how Silver was too. The gym leader had been startled, perhaps at the truth, or the comparison, but after he’d become a bit less guarded about his own edges. Yellow could see the razors under the chilly front, the fangs to his smirks, his thoughts, when he fell silent and really thought, were like the scrape of claws on stone.

As long as he didn’t point his claws at Viridian, or her, or anyone she cared for, or do something crazy like Lance, Giovanni could sharpen his claws as much as he wanted. She’d said that to his face, and after a moment’s shock he’d barked out a hard laugh, and “agreed to her terms” whatever that meant.

She settled beside Silver, not taking the bed in part because taking a nap now seemed rude and in part because the lump moving back and forth under her covers was small and familiar. A familiarity confirmed when a feather poked out from the blanket’s edge, a wiggle and a head popped out with a mewled “snea!”

“Hi Sneasnea…”

“Sal!” puffing a bit of ice the ice type slid back under the covers with a grumble, clearly irritated for being bothered for nothing.

And where others would have bantered about silly things, odd questions like “how was your day” and such, Yellow popped besides Silver, gauging from the line of his back, the set of his shoulders if she was welcome or not. No talk or silliness needed. There was no tension, no scooting, and at her coming he moved the computer so she could see what he was seeing. She sniffed, glad he’d found a pool with some soap root and used it before coming over. His shirt only smelled a little of earth and loom, so he’d been mindful of the important things.

He was even sharing. Wiggling the screen up at her, a mute “look-see” that Yellow indulged him in.

Snuggling against him, because if he was posed like a couch she could, and would, and he hadn’t minded that at all.

Progress, per Green. Normally he’d hunker around his work, food, and supplies, and hiss like Sneasal wrapped around a pidgy nest.

Green’d told her stories of having to pry maps and blankets away from him because while he could be nice when he wanted to, he normally wasn’t mindful of when he should share just sharing at all the wrong times. Or sharing everything and anything, and stealing everything and anything in a crisis. Green’d be so happy when Yellow told her, and she steadied the laptop while Silver poked at keys, getting her where he wanted her to see…

And when she saw, well there was a man, in white, and he was… .singing? The volume was low enough Yellow couldn’t tell what the song was, but the man’s name was “Rick”.

Then Silver flicked off the mute button and Yellow gapped at the redhead, then the screen, then back to Silver, who was smiling, fangs all in attendance.

“Silver…” because even a few moments and the song was in her head, it was that type of song, she flicked the button off of mute, and glowered down at her couch and roommate, face twisted into unnaturally firm lines. Because being stern was Green’s thing, not Yellow’s, still, she tried. Had to try.

Because this song was evil.

“Do you know what this song is?”

“Catchy.” The boy hummed, expression smoothing to the familiar no-tell lines he’d been trained to use. It made a weird contrast for the fact he was nearly bouncing, vibrating, in poorly suppressed glee. “Gets in your head, stupid catchy, and it has no swears. And it got an award for being really really irritating, and there are so many viruses synched to it. So many. I could infect a whole network with it and everything with a speaker will sing it, non-stop. It works in cell phones, it moves into cell phones if he synced his computer to his phone like a lot of the new ones do… It doesn’t matter where he is, what he’s doing….”

And Mask training notwithstanding he cooed the last bit, indulging a full-body wiggle, eyes lit up and lips quirking into a true wide smile.

“He’ll never get away from it. You can put it on a repeat, on a timer; make it respawn after a standard virus sweep cleans everything out…”

And Giovanni might raze Viridian to the ground if Silver’s right. To get to Yellow if he can’t get Silver to turn it off, to make Yellow make Silver turn it off.

“Silver,” She can’t’ say all of that, because Silver will to it anyway and put icicles on everything Giovanni owns, every Rocket base, every home, car, everything. The pointy type that fall down. “No.”

“but….”

“Every time this song plays a… a pidgy dies. Someone played it near Mother Forest and SHE sent beedrill after them. Big nasty rabid beedrill.”

And Yellow’s seeing Viridian as a smoking hole in her head. Some other Rocket made Legendary zipping around frying things, because Giovanni’ll send something nasty to make Yellow, and Viridian, pay. Something with huge muffs and the inability to record sound, and it’s an odd way to go and Yellow wants nothing to do with it, though the mental image of mewtwo with muffs flying around psywaving everything is odd enough to make her giggle, despite the horror.

“Find a different song.”

“But I spent hours finding this one, and all its virus’!”

“Anyth-“ and Yellow catched herself, just in time. “A song I say is OK.”

With a huff Silver clicks the computer closed, and grumbles, flopping a bit, but mindful enough not to flop on her, or at her, and smack her by accident. Then he stills.

“What if I make it look like Lance did it?”

“Lance is too old…” But the song was old, and Lance was a bit.. crazy… so did his oldness count?

“And we don’t affect Gio corp, or Viridian corp or anything my f- Giovanni owns. How about we put it in the league? They’re crazy. And Lance did try to torch a forest.”

And half a region, with lasers, and dragons, because ‘mon were suffering. Never mind he could have got the ‘mon to move, cleaned them up, and they’d of been fine. Or since Lance was a jerk, he could have just torched the people hurting the ‘mon. But then Lance was crazy, the special, non-rabies type, so… maybe…

And Silver was squirming, near dancing, because he knew silences. He knew about mentally sharpening his claws. He was a lot like his father in that sense and Yellow was a little like them both too.

So everyone was sorta on the right page, just then, and Yellow thought about it, she really did.

And Silver, the utter utter cheat, unleashed a pair of wide arcanine eyes at Yellow and…

And Yellow folded, with a small smile.

“Not tonight, but… how about in a few days, the day after tomorrow? I got a half-day at school and I don’t tell Uncle so I can play in the Forest with Mother… but Mother’d understand and …”



“You’ll help?’

His shock hurt, a little. The league was a hop, skip, and short flight for a flying type. They could get to the indigo plateau in an hour if Murkrow and Doduo raced. It’d been a while since she’d raced Silver, that part sounded fun.

As for the rest of it, it might be funny, maybe, but only if they didn’t get caught, and only if Yellow could talk Silver into making recordings. They could mail those to Green, to cheer her up.

Because Green certainly needed cheering up.

Yellow nodded, because, why not? Silver hugged her, exuberant at the idea of the outing. He did so awkwardly, wrapping his arms around her, not holding her quite right. But he tried. Ruffling his hair, imagining it was red feathers, because that would fit Silver best, a Sneasal’s crown, Yellow smiled.

And showed him how to hug right with her hug. Because all he needed was a bit of practice, and Yellow was more than happy to help.

 

[Sinderella]

Hi there K_S! Here for Catnip, focusing on chapter 1!

This is the part where I (regretfully) inform you that I have never read the Pokemon manga, therefore I didn't have a lot of baseline knowledge going into this. I read the summary, but was still a little lost as to what was happening here. The more I read, the more things started to click, and the more I kind of started to get a gist, but even by the end of it, I still wasn't quite sure. So, for the sake of this review, I tried to avoid discussing the plot and pacing aspects, and tried to focus a little more on technical things, and maybe even some characterization--I definitely feel like this was something written for readers of the manga, in which case, I am definitely not the target audience! But, I will try my best to be constructive!

So, I did really enjoy this characterization of Giovanni, the way he meticulously tracks down Green, like an actual stalker--looking through academic records to find her address and phone number, and calling constantly until he knew her schedule well enough, knowing eventually she'd lose her cool and stop hanging up. Though, I do find it a little creepy that he's stalking this poor child to such an extent, but hey.....this is Pokemon lol.

I was a little thrown off by how Green was even slightly considering helping Giovanni find Silver, while also considering letting Giovanni come see her--after just saying she didn't want him in her presence. If he's "just as bad as him (Pryce)" then I don't quite grasp how she'd even want to consider having any sort of business with him, no matter what it is. I might be missing something here because I'm so unfamiliar with what's happening here, but that's what stood out most to me.

I did notice some typos here and there, such as:

Basic arithmetic confirmed it was nearing four a clock, Sevvi time, if Green lingered any longer on this walk she’d likely be missed.

I also noticed that you have a habit of it seems re-introducing the characters throughout the prose? For example, look here:

Finding her voice, and anger all at once, the girl, Green, rallied.

To that anxiety, that remembered and present sense of wondering and worry for his child, Giovanni, the Boss of Team Rocket, indulged mercy of a sorts.

These little sentence fluffers just struck me as odd, and didn't really serve much of a purpose, mostly because you've already established who these people are. We know Green is the girl Giovanni's been trying to call, and we know Giovanni is the boss of team rocket.

Generally, I can't really offer much more. I unfortunately don't have the expertise to be able to critique much beyond this. However, I will offer that this was very well written! Good luck on the rest of your writing endeavors! <3

 

[K_S]

I was aiming to make this tale somewhat accessable to those who havent read the manga. And avoid the dreaded info dump. Per your coments I was somewhat successful.

Honestly the stalking scenes were meant to show Giovanin is creepy. He does similar and worse things in the special manga that a lot of writers in the fanfic field shrug off as he's "just" looking for Silver. I wanted to toss a variant of him being a creepy control freak with that justidication but by showing how hollow the standby excuse is via his choice of victim.
(He normally does stuff like this to his adult enemies and a bit to Red. Having him do so to the gal who all but raised Silver in his absence shows his lack of moral compass)

Greens willingness to work with Giovanni is a testiment to her own desperation. Its not highlighted here but next chapter and those going onward her home life is a disaster and turning dangerous. Giovannis the saner option.

Greens hostility is part training part knee-jerk reaction. Not wound up she'd never compare Gio to Mask.

Mask poisoned the kids he kidnapped against any source of rescue and Gio would have snapped the kids up in a heartbeat (He actually has a soft spot for kids and he spares red and blue because of that. A later convon shows he regrets not killing them at first opportunity because of his sentimentality and he's kicking himself for it.)

I sorta headcanon that Gio would have absorbed the older Mask victims into Rocket if the opportunity showed itself and dropped the youngest with thier parents... Finding Silver would have been an accidental bonus.

In canon, Green, when traveling with Red and Blue heard a lot of rants against Giovanni. Reds seriously obsessive about it. But she only really delt with him... Twice. once seeing him villian rant/troll Red and Blue at silph and again at ilex when he tries to murder Pryce who is mocking Gio for having "lost" Silver. Never mind Pryce literally sent a Legend to Gios home, razed it, and dragged the near infant Silver from the wreckage for his brainwashing program.

Part of Greens willingness is shes a very grey character who really wants Silver back, safe, and in contact with her and her own efforts to make that happen have fallen very flat. She cant leave to make things right and her resources are nill after ilex.


The rest of her motives are utter desperation. Something Gios research has let him know about and he's dropping a hint in his "offer" of evidence that he really knows whats going on in Greens home. Once he offered her proof... She might be sassing him in reply but she took his offer with both hands because she's living with people who don't believe her about Mask Rocket or anything. Greens parents aren't mentally strong enough to deal with thier own trauma much less thier kids. and the overall disaster of nonsupportive environment, the "Mask isnt real what really happened" and conditional affection/love that Greens dealing with is driving her insane.

Shes praying Gios proof will snap her folks to reality since they just wont believe her no matter what.

As for the fluff thanks for catching what I missed. I tend to be a very fluff writer and am trying to curtail the worst of it but I miss bits and bobs.