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Borne of Caution (Pokemon Isekai)
- Thread starter Fuggmann
- Start date
anonermoose
Not too sore, are you?
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Plot twist, the Pokemon world also created some media depicting worlds without any Pokemon in it, but any creator that did so got instantly hated on massively by the local community and their works always faded into obscurity for being considered 'poke-discriminatory'.
Drew_The_Ghost
Versed in the lewd.
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T4TC 
Shinx is best girl, prove me wrong.
She'll be a menace as a Luxray.
Shinx is best girl, prove me wrong.
She'll be a menace as a Luxray.
lurkingkraken
Experienced.
- Joined
- Mar 3, 2020
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And lokoko would have gotten away with it too if it weren't for those meddling kids and that lion!
Hopefully she reacts with grace once her shock fades; it's not like her concern isn't valid to someone who isn't party to the mind bond.
And it's not like Lee wouldn't/doesn't also regret potentially lowering Nine's lifespan to match his.
End of life goal: end up in the same Spiritomb together.
She's already a menace. Evolving her won't change that.
Hopefully she reacts with grace once her shock fades; it's not like her concern isn't valid to someone who isn't party to the mind bond.
And it's not like Lee wouldn't/doesn't also regret potentially lowering Nine's lifespan to match his.
End of life goal: end up in the same Spiritomb together.
She's already a menace. Evolving her won't change that.
Vadelent
In your kitchen, stealing your pie.
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I imagine electrical impulses is probably one of the very few methods that Lokoko hasn't covered. Considering just how much of a bear trap her little mind is it wouldn't surprise me if Shinx managed to work out a variant of her final forms ability to see through solid objects. I'm guessing illusions count too considering she's been seemingly touching things.
Reman Septim
Versed in the lewd.
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We will never live down the banning of that episode.
Last edited:
ThunderBasilisk
Well Worn Bastion
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Looks like Shinx is close to evolving. Gonna be a tearful day seeing his baby girl grow up. Also not surprised she's the first to find out. It just makes sense she'd notice the discrepancies. Can't wait to see how the conversation with Steven goes
doomqwer
Well worn.
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Yeah that Is gonna be rather big problem going forward.
even if archie is slightly better character wise then maxie he is goal is still out right genocide of the human race so he must be stopped.
Ah so that reveal finally come about it will be interesting to see what they do with that as she powerful but not malicious
Yeah there is likely some kind of psychic exercise to delve into old memories.
To be fair the anime showed off that things like double team could act as solid things
Yup this is gonna be one hell of a conversation.
Act 3: Chapter 14
New
Fuggmann
Inventor of Sex 2
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Take a look here!
I'm reader-funded, and need your help to keep writing indefinitely. If you like what you're reading and want to help out, see at the place of patrons. Patrons get to see 2 chapters early, suggest edits to final drafts before they go live, and participate in polls to choose what gets updated next during my moments of indecisiveness.
If you want to keep up-to-date on releases, use discord code
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As always, thank you for reading.
The waiting has to be the worst part, the anticipation of the first words to follow after dropping a bomb of such magnitude, Lee thinks. Even with Ninetales, Zinnia, and Brendan all around, silently acting as pillars, waiting for Steven's first proper response after Brendan's joke still yanks something in his stomach.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. The wall clock counts the seconds, unconcerned with the anxious needles each little tick tock drives into Lee's skin.
Steven draws in a breath, then shakes his head, his pale hair bouncing. "That was not what I was expecting to hear, if we're all being honest," he says, leveling Lee with an uncomfortable stare as he steeples his fingers on the table. "I think it would be best to start at the beginning."
"On that, we agree." Lee nods, then launches into the tale. By this point, it feels as if he's an old hand with this particular story.
He starts with his life before all of this, before being a trainer and how Pokemon was just a series of games and shows for children. He loved them, of course, even getting to the point that he played the game competitively for a time. Pokemon cemented itself in his heart as a love he'd take to the grave.
Across the table, Steven and Metagross listen with stony faces, or at least Steven does. Metagross's visage is already more or less immovable, but his eyes flicker red, akin to an LED hooked to a computer.
Could they be telepathically talking? A tiny, impulsive thought wonders what they would hear if Lee guided Nine's mental hand to the invisible cord between the champion and the living supercomputer.
Then come the details. His beloved zoo, and how it all started on a normal day whose peace was shattered by emergency sirens. The only notice that they got was that it was too late, no hows or whys, then…
FIRE.
PAIN.
BLACK.
"I died…" Lee breathes. What little tremors strike him are banished in seconds, as Ninetales, Brendan, and Zinnia all inch closer. "I died, and when I came to, it was on the outskirts of Littleroot Town, with Ninetales —then Vulpix's—pokeball in my pocket."
Steven's complexion has always leaned toward the pale side, a man who spends more time in mines and boardrooms than on beaches, but Lee is fairly sure the Champion has lost a shade or two in the last minute. His steel-gray eyes hold steady, though. Whatever's churning behind them, Steven keeps it locked down tight.
He clears his throat. "I assume you sought out Professor Birch shortly after your arrival."
"Had to," Lee confirms with a nod. "I was injured, alone save for a Vulpix I'd been acquainted with for only minutes, and dumped in the middle of nowhere with no ID, no money, and no idea how I got there." He shifts in his seat, lacing his fingers together on the table. "Nigel was the closest thing to a lifeline I had. I came clean to him, and he helped me get on my feet." Lee meets Steven's gaze directly, face apologetic. "Which means there are some fibs on my trainer license and citizenship paperwork that I'd ask you to forgive. Nigel did it from a place of kindness, not malice."
Steven waves a hand. "In the grand scheme of what you're telling me, a little creative paperwork is a minor concern." The hand settles back on the table, fingers drumming once. "What I'd like to understand is why you waited this long to bring this to someone in my position."
Lee exhales through his nose. He knew this question was coming.
"Call it an overabundance of caution," he says, the words careful. "I don't mean any insult by it, Steven, but I needed to be in a position where..." He trails off, searching for the right phrasing, then decides being plain will work better than any flowery words, and raises his wrist. In his watch, the rainbow keystone casts thin, multihued rays around the room. "Where vanishing me and mine for being inconvenient wasn't likely," he finishes, dropping his hand.
The expression on Steven's face twists, and the lack of a defence on his part is telling.
"I already lost one family." Lee's voice doesn't crack, but it comes close. Ninetales presses her flank harder against his calf beneath the table. "I will not lose a second. Not to anyone or anything."
Steven's brow creases, the frown settling deep. His fingers drum on the table once more, the steel bands on his index and ring fingers clacking.
"I understand," Steven finally speaks up, followed by a heaving sigh. "Even if your caution has caused me more than a few headaches over the past several months." He glances to his right, where Metagross stands like an iron monolith. The great pokemon's eyes flicker, then that massive head shakes a slow negative.
Steven turns back to Lee, and, with a small gesture, gives him the floor again.
Lee takes a steadying breath and shifts gears. "The games I mentioned," he begins, leaning forward slightly, "the third generation was set in Hoenn, and Magma and Aqua played the villains."
Steven's eyes narrow. It's not surprise on his face, exactly, but more like he's watching a puzzle piece rotate into its slot.
"What I've seen so far tracks with the broad strokes of the game's plot, though the details diverge. It was a game for children, so the real-world severity was... sanitized." Lee's jaw works for a second. "The core goals, though, those line up. Maxie intends to harness the power of Groudon and reshape the landmasses to his vision, death toll be damned. And Archie..." He pauses for a breath. "Archie wants to beseech Kyogre to drown the world, to wash away humanity, and start the whole world over from scratch. I know I told you what I suspected their aims were in Lavaridge, but this time, both of them have confirmed the worst case scenario to my face."
Whatever color Steven had managed to hold onto leaves his face in a slow drain. "You're certain?"
"Like I said, both have told me," Lee replies grimly. "Maxie on Mt. Chimney, and Archie last night. And I'm sorry to say, this isn't the only crisis I'm here to make you aware of."
"Of course not…" the champion murmurs, smoothing a non-existent wrinkle in his shirt. "What's next? A giant meteor hurtling toward the planet?"
When no one on the other side of the table replies, a slow grimace begins to take over Steven's face. "Really?"
Lee winces, the expression pulling at his scars. "You, ah... hit the nail on the head, actually."
Steven stares at him.
Lee glances to his left. "Zinnia? How did it go again?"
Zinnia straightens in her chair. The perpetual smirk worn like armor is nowhere to be found as Zinnia the troublemaker shuffles out of the way, making room for Zinnia the Lorekeeper.
"A prophecy has been made by the Oracle of my tribe. We've been hearing it for generations, but this is the first time we've ever had a time included," she says. Her voice carries a weight that Lee has rarely heard from her. The rough Draconid cadence slips in, her Rs gaining an edge and Gs one step back from a growl. "Beware. Beware the hateful intruder. Beware the end of our home. It comes uncomprehending of our plight, and with a shell of earth born to another sun, it will see our home gone and her inhabitants reduced to ash." Her crimson eyes hold Steven's without flinching. "Only the Almighty Who Claims The Sky and a Champion with the power of Ascension might avert disaster. Save us, Almighty. Save us, Champion, or the longest day shall also be the last."
The words settle over the room like a funeral shroud. Even Metagross's eyes dim for a moment, the flickering slows.
Zinnia doesn't waste time and continues. "The best minds in my tribe have picked this apart from every angle. The consensus is a meteor, a large one, large enough to decimate Hoenn at the absolute minimum, with something guiding it here." She folds her arms. "The summer solstice is the predicted arrival date."
Steven opens his mouth, but Zinnia isn't done.
"I've already tried other channels. The Mossdeep Space Center, independent astronomers, anyone who might be able to corroborate it or do something about it." She shakes her head. "Nada. And my original plan to handle it..." She trails off, her gaze dropping to the table. Guilt and shame flicker across her face. "That should really be a last resort."
'Rayquaza.' Lee swallows. 'Who would only come down if both Kyogre and Groudon clashed.'
Steven doesn't answer right away. He leans back in his chair slowly, one hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose.
"Team Aqua and Team Magma are known threats," he says at last, letting his hand drop. "Organizations with documented criminal activity, known leadership, and a pattern of escalation. I can justify the funds and manpower to combat them, even if I still have personal reservations about whether the Legendary pokemon they're after truly exist." He pauses, choosing his next words with visible care. "A meteor, however... I cannot split the League's resources a third way with nothing but words to support it."
Zinnia's scowl is immediate and sharp. "We just told you that a pair of lunatics want to wake up a couple of gods and rearrange the planet, and you're cool with that, and this is where you draw the line?"
"I'm not calling anyone at this table a liar." Steven holds a hand up in defence. "But I need you to look at this from my position. If I acted on every warning that came from sources I couldn't independently verify, the League would be caught up in a thousand wild Swanna chases with nothing to show for it." He spreads his hands on the table, palms down. "Champion or not, that kind of decision-making invites scrutiny, the kind that could end with someone else, who might be less sympathetic, in my office."
He looks between Lee and Zinnia, then settles on a point somewhere between them. "Is there anything you can provide that adds credence to this? Both the meteor and the feasibility of what Aqua and Magma are attempting?"
Lee's stomach tightens. He'd hoped Steven would take them at their word, but he knew, even before walking in here, that hope was a thin one.
'Nine.' He keeps the thought small and tucked in deep, even if he's sure Metagross cannot hear it. 'Should we show him what we saw?'
Ninetales doesn't hesitate. 'If the visage of The Renegade cannot convince him, then nothing in this world will.'
"I might have something," Lee says aloud, and every pair of eyes in the room locks onto him. "But it's not something I can explain with words alone. It's a memory, one you'll need to see to believe."
Steven and Metagross share a look. It's brief, no more than a second, but Lee catches it all the same. The slight tilt of Steven's head and the almost imperceptible shift in Metagross's posture hints at words he cannot hear.
"Are you sure?" Steven asks, turning back. "Interfacing psychically with Metagross can be... pretty intense."
The unspoken, deeply uncomfortable hangs in the air like smoke. Lee appreciates the warning, he does, but after what happened in that crater, after staring into a void that stared back with eyes like pooling blood, Metagross can only be pleasant by comparison. "I'm sure," Lee insists.
Beneath the table, Lee reaches for Ninetales with more than just his hand. Their minds slide together like interlocking fingers, the familiar warmth of her consciousness pressing against his until the seams blur. The edges of Lee and Nine overlap and hold fast, with only the severity of the coming chore keeping them from falling into a feedback loop of bliss.
They're just getting situated when Brendan speaks up for the first time since the meeting began.
"Is this about that psychic message you got?" The younger trainer's thoughtful expression cracks, his brows rising as something clicks behind his eyes. "The one in the crater?"
Lee nods, being very careful to use his own mouth and not move Nine's by mistake. Yipping like a fox in the middle of the most important conversation of his life thus far would be a special kind of humiliating. "It is," he confirms.
Zinnia leans forward, both elbows on the table. "Then we want in too." She jerks a thumb between herself and Brendan. "You said you didn't want to explain things more than once, right?"
Lee chews on his lip. "I don't know…"
"C'mon, Lee." Brendan taps his side with an elbow. The touch of apprehension in the boy's blue eyes isn't missed, but he smiles all the same. "It's been bothering you for weeks, and a burden shared is half a burden, or something like that. You've already gotten everything else off your chest, so what's a little more?"
'Damn it, Brendan.' Lee screws his eyes shut. 'Why do you have to be so hard to say no to?'
"Alright," Lee relents, opening his eyes once more. "But fair warning, both of you. You might need some time to process after this is over."
Brendan squares his shoulders. Zinnia just raises an eyebrow, as if to say try me.
Lee and Nine reach out together, a coordinated motion as practiced as any move. Gossamer threads of thought extend toward Brendan first, the touch feather-light, and Lee feels the boy's surprise as the connection takes hold. A sharp inhale, a flicker of instinctive, fearful resistance that they wait out, then acceptance. Zinnia is next, and her mind is harder to grip, a slippery, guarded thing that bristles at the intrusion before she consciously forces herself to relax. Two sets of metaphorical eyes settle in behind Lee and Nine's shoulders, peering out through borrowed perception.
Then Ninetales flinches, and Lee feels why a half-second later.
Metagross's probe brushes against them from the outside. It's nothing like Ninetales's warmth, nothing like the silk-and-ember texture of their bond. This is cold, prickly, like a stripped copper cable pressing against bare skin. There's a slight sting as they let it in, sharp as needles, allowing the connection just deep enough to siphon the data they intend to share and nothing more.
Lee steadies himself, then looks across the table.
"Before we begin," he says, "I have to ask. Are you a religious man, Steven?"
Sweat has begun to dot the Champion's brow. His posture is still composed, but the fine tremor in his jaw tells Lee that even riding in Metagross's backseat during a psychic link is taking its toll.
"Not particularly," Steven manages.
Inwardly, Lee wishes he had brought some water with him, as his mouth is dry. "You will be after this."
As one, he and Ninetales lift the black-stained memory to the surface, and the warm meeting room in the rear of the Pokemon Center goes dark.
Well, the world is dark besides a pair of eyes of fire red, which stand too close, yet also a world away.
I am Giratina, The Antithesis, The Renegade, The Opposite Side of the Great Scale. We are all part of His Plan, one of delicate balance and lockstep. His Plan is perfect, and leads to perfection, just as He is, but all worlds of monsters and men are discord.
"You two okay?"
Lee's voice comes out weaker than he intends. With Steven and Metagross gone and the psychic lattice on the walls long since dissolved, the ambient hum of the Pokemon Center bleeds back through. It's practically thunder in the pregnant silence, and Lee's words are almost lost.
Zinnia is leaned back in her chair, head tilted against the backrest, staring at the ceiling blank and unfocused, her thoughts seemingly far, far away. Her arms sit crossed under the hem of her cropped shirt, on her midriff.
On the other side, Brendan rolls Swampert's pokeball between his fingers in a slow, repetitive rhythm. Palm to knuckles, knuckles to palm, and back again. His eyes track the motion without really seeing it. The ball rattled with anxious shakes at first, but has since settled to let the young trainer fidget in peace.
Lee waits. Ninetales, still pressed against his leg, waits with him.
'Was that too much, showing them everything directly?' he asks the vixen warming his legs.
'They asked, Beloved,' she is quick to answer, but the rolling, unsure embers in her belly are plain to him. Rare doubt colors her words. 'Would either have dropped the subject if excluded, informed only by word?'
No. He already knows.
After a long moment, Zinnia is the one to break the silence.
"So," she says, still staring at the ceiling. "I never really doubted any of it. The gods, the legends, all that. Hard to doubt when Granny and every elder in the village sing the praises of Rayquaza." She rolls her head to one side, cracking her neck. "Even harder when you stand at the base of the Sky Pillar on pilgrimage and feel something up there looking back at you."
She's quiet for a beat, then lets out a long breath through her nose.
"But damn." The word comes out flat, almost reverent. "If there were any doubts hiding in the back of my head, they're gone now." A pause. Then, without lifting her gaze from the ceiling, the corner of her mouth twitches. "Oh, and for what it's worth? Giratina was totally lying when it said you weren't its first pick. It probably just said that so you don't get a big head."
Lee sighs. "I'm glad your humor is still intact, poor as it is."
"Shut it, Dolittle. I was being serious."
Lee shakes his head and turns to Brendan.
The younger trainer doesn't look up right away. His fingers keep rolling the pokeball, back and forth, back and forth. When he finally glances at Lee, it's only for a second before his eyes drop back to the ball in his hand.
"I didn't realize how deep it all went," Brendan says softly. Then his jaw works, like he's chewing on something he isn't sure he should swallow. "Lee, were you... were you actually mad that you didn't die?"
Zinnia sucks in a sharp breath through her teeth. Under the table, Ninetales lifts her head and fixes Brendan with a perturbed glare. Lee feels her protective anger spike, hot and immediate, not at Brendan, but at the question itself, and at the wound she fears will reopen.
Ah. So Brendan wasn't too dazzled or horrified by Giratina to miss that part.
Lee looks away. His gaze finds the far wall.
"Things..." he starts, then stops and tries again. "It would have been easier, or less painful for sure, If I'd just... passed on."
The words are as ugly as they are honest.
"But that was just me getting angry and lashing out at something I couldn't control." He turns back to face them, and the effort it takes to meet Brendan's eyes is more than he'd like to admit. "For everything I lost, I've gained something back. More than something. If I'd passed, I wouldn't have the pokemon I have now. I wouldn't have you two, or Nigel, or any of it."
He runs a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly as a small smile rises to his face. "I'm not happy with how it came to be, but I am happy to be here, with all of you."
A half-hearted smile surfaces on Brendan's face. It's not the boy's usual bright grin, not even close, and beneath it something still lingers, something Lee can't quite name.
The silence stretches for three more seconds before Zinnia's chair legs slam down against the floor.
"Alright!" She stands, clapping her hands together loud enough to make Brendan jump. "This serious shit has taken way too long. The champ is on board, the doom and gloom has been properly shared, and that means it's time for a nice, big, celebratory lunch." She points a finger squarely at Lee's chest. "Your treat!"
Brendan blinks, his troubled expression cracking. "Zinnia, you're supposed to say 'my treat' when you suggest something like that."
Zinnia sniffs, keeping her finger aimed at Lee like a loaded weapon. "His fault things got so real and gloomy in there. He should be the one to fix it."
Lee stares at the accusatory finger, then at Zinnia's completely unapologetic face.
"Really feeling the love," he says dryly as he and Brendan stand as well. "It sucks that it's for my wallet and not me."
Zinnia throws her head back with a cackling laugh, and with that, they finally vacate the meeting room.
Down the hall and into the bustling Pokemon Center lobby, they find Lokoko lounging in a far corner on a couch, alone and sitting serenely with her eyes closed.
'Or her avatar's eyes are closed, at least,' Lee mentally mutters to Ninetales, looking up and down the couch. 'Is her real body stretched out there, unseen?'
As they approach, she cracks one eye open, then stands in one neat motion, dusting off her kimono. "All went well, I hope?" the disguised kitsune asks.
"As well as it could," Lee says, keeping his answer simple. "We were thinking about getting some lunch, my treat…" He stops just long enough to cast a narrow-eyed look at a grinning Zinnia behind him, then gives Lokoko his attention again. "Would you like to join us? We could discuss the specifics of your proposed tests and experiments over it if you like."
"That's gentlemanly of you, Mister Henson. I would be delighted to join," Lokoko replies with a small smile.
They leave the Pokemon Center and wander Fortree's main thoroughfare for a short while, taking in the city at street level. It's even greener from down here than it was from the air, the canopy filtering the sunlight into dappled patterns across the sidewalk. The air smells of damp earth and flowering vines, and Lee once more takes the time to thank his lucky stars for the lack of a pollen allergy. With the scent of the earth is the occasional waft of something cooking drifting out from open storefronts.
It doesn't take long to find what they're looking for. A casual dining spot called The Nesting Branch sits at the intersection of two main streets, its most appealing feature being a generous outdoor patio sectioned off with low wooden fences and dotted with oversized seating areas clearly designed for trainers with larger pokemon. A Tropius dozes in the far corner, its banana-like fruit dangling lazily as its trainer eats beside it.
They claim a table near the edge of the patio and release their teams with a cavalcade of pokeball flashes, and the space fills up fast. Corviknight settles behind Lee's chair like a steel sentinel, his talons clicking on the wooden deck. Sceptile finds a sunny patch of railing to lean against, arms crossed. Ninetales, predictably, takes the spot directly beside Lee, her tails kindly pulled together so as not to take more than her fair share of the bench. Sylveon and Octillery are content off to the side, while Shinx squeezes her way between Lee and Ninetales on the bench.
Predictably, Latias draws stares that she shrinks from, going partially translucent, but when Salamence's bulk comes out, the curious eyes remember their manners and return to their own meals.
As they get comfortable, Lee can't help but look between Zinnia and Salamence. The great dragon tries his best to look unflappable, but, over and over, his eyes trail down to Zinnia. More specifically, they hone in on the half-healed arm he burned.
The waitress who comes out with menus doesn't bat an eye at the small army. She's a sturdy woman with laugh lines on her face, and she takes each order with patience, jotting down trainer meals and pokemon preferences alike. When Shinx, still smooshed between Lee and Nine, changes her mind for the second time, the waitress just smiles and scratches out the previous entry without complaint.
"Take your time, sweetie," she tells the little electric type, and Shinx's ears perk up proudly at being addressed directly.
Lee is already doing the math in his head and wincing. Four trainers, over a dozen pokemon with more than one supersized appetite, and the kind of well-earned tip this woman deserves for her patience is going to clear the thousand credit mark easily.
'You could have told Zinnia off, you know,' Nine observes, a thread of amusement from her curling between his ribs, leaving all it touches light and airy. 'There was no need to agree.'
'I was guilt-tripped, so don't make it sound like I had a real choice.'
Once the food arrives and everyone settles into the comfortable rhythm of eating, Lee turns his attention to Lokoko. Ninetales shifts beside him, angling one ear.
"So," Lee begins, setting his fork down. "Your tests and experiments. What exactly are you hoping to learn, Miss Lokoko?"
Lokoko dabs at the corner of her mouth with a napkin, then sets her own fork down with deliberate care. "My primary goal," she says, "is to survey the nature of your supposed gestalthood."
Halfway down the table, Zinnia snorts past a massive bite of what looks like a pulled pork sandwich. She chews, swallows, and grins. "'Gestalthood.' Sounds like something you'd read in a dirty book."
Lokoko turns a look on Zinnia that could freeze lava. It's brief, barely a second, but the sheer aristocratic disgust packed into that single glance is almost impressive. Then she returns to Lee as if the interruption never happened.
"Beyond that, the population of individual Ninetales around the world has been on a steady downward trend for generations." Even if the face looking at him is fake, the half-second of anguish on it seems distressingly real to Lee. "My ultimate goal with these assessments is to ensure that your Ninetales is safe. That the bond you share isn't causing her undue harm."
'Judging something so profoundly intimate is hardly the place of an outsider.' Nine's mental voice carries a stiff edge.
'Not all contrary views to our own are baseless,' Lee sends back, keeping his own tone measured. 'But I agree that she seems to have a personal angle in this.'
He pauses, turning the thought over carefully.
'She's not drawing parallels between us, herself, and her late master, is she?'
Ninetales doesn't answer that one, but the ripple of unease splashed with sympathy is telling enough.
Outwardly, Lee keeps his expression neutral and gestures for Lokoko to continue.
She does, primly folding her hands on the table. "I would also like to test Ninetales in several fields to determine her overall health and well-being. Physicality, aptitude with her moves and abilities, mastery of her fire, and a few other miscellaneous areas I'd prefer to assess in person rather than describe in the abstract."
Lee nods along, considering. "That sounds reasonable. If Nine's amenable, I can share a few relevant sections from my research notebooks to give you a baseline. It'll save us some time on the fundamentals."
'You wrote those notebooks,' Nine says with a roll of her eyes. 'You hardly need my permission to freely show your own thoughts.'
'They pertain to you, so you deserve a say in what gets shared.' Lee keeps his mental tone light. 'Besides, I was already planning on keeping a few entries to myself.'
A thin eyebrow rises on Ninetales' face. 'Such as?'
'Such as the note about how your stomach disagrees with onions.'
Ninetales goes very, very still beside him. The warmth in their connection doesn't change, but the texture of it does, shifting from comfortable silk to something with considerably more starch.
'Do not show her a single page until I have read through the entire thing first.'
Lee fights to keep his mouth from twitching.
Across the table, Lokoko's eyes flick between Lee and Ninetales. Her brow creases, just slightly. She just missed hearing a choice secret and isn't pleased about it.
'Best get used to it, Lokoko.' Lee takes another bite of his meal, chewing slowly. 'Good intentions or no, mine and Nine's minds are our own.'
Corviknight needs a day of personal attention all to himself, Lee decides. It's only right to get some pampering after how much the knightly bird has to play taxi, so pecha-scented polish and a new buffing wheel for the angle grinder at the bottom of his bag goes onto the ever-growing mental shopping list.
An hour north by way of steel raven express finds Lee and Lokoko descending to the rocky foot of a low, wide mountain, towards a patch of stony ground growing naught but moss despite the bubbling stream that divides it in half.
Corvi's talons let out truncated screeches as he lands with his passengers, and a number of the boulders dotting the clearing open their eyes. One look at the monster-sized Steel-type is all the various Geodudes and a pair of Gravelers need to see before they trundle away to the safety of the mountain.
As he did in Fortree, Lee steps off Corvi's saddle first, then offers a hand to Lokoko, earning a quiet "thank you" as she hops down.
"So," Lee begins, taking in the rough, mostly level ground around them as he pulls not one, but two pokeballs from his belt. "First things first—fire safety. Octillery!"
The first ball leaves his hand in an arc towards the stream, and halfway through its flight, it cracks open, depositing its load right into the stream with a splash!
Lokoko backs up a step, avoiding some errant drops with a grimace, while Lee just lifts an arm to keep any stream water from nailing him in the eye.
The stream bubbles, then Octillery's bulbous head breaches the water. He only gives his surroundings a moment of his time before looking at Lee, an eyebrow raised.
"We're going to have Ninetales cut loose, pal." Lee gives the octopus a smile. "Can you dampen our testing ground to keep the chance of a wildfire down?"
Octillery touches a tentacle to his round little mouth and lets his eyes roll skyward in a show of thought. He regards the flaky, stony ground, then shrugs and dips back under the water.
Sluuuuuuuuurp…
A moment later, he breaches once more, his head swollen so much it seems like it might pop, before leaning back and…
FWOOOOM!
…shooting a torrent high up, a hundred feet easily. The cone of water erupting from his mouth flies with take-your-skin-off force. If there is anyone around to see, surely they're mistaking it for a freak geyser.
"Mister Henson," Lokoko tersely begins, wide eyes tracking the fat raindrops beginning to fall. She takes a fistful of his sleeve and pulls herself behind him. "Perhaps you should have waited for me to move?"
"I'm not a jerk, Miss Lokoko." Lee allows himself a small, mischievous grin. Part of him wonders if he should be rankling a Ninetales far less invested in his well-being than Nine, but there is no aborting the joke halfway through. He lets Lokoko's eyes get just a bit wider before the other pokeball in his hand pops open.
Ninetales takes shape beside him opposite of Lokoko, eyes already faintly glowing.
The air above them ripples into an invisible, telekinetic awning, and not a moment too soon.
Five whole seconds of harsh rain batters the ground and the psychic umbrella above, producing a rapid pitter-patter like a downpour on a window. When the last of the droplets finally returns back to planet earth, the only dry bit of ground is the wide circle around Lee, Ninetales, and the other, woman-shaped Ninetales.
"Thanks, Octy." Lee gives his sole Water-type a thumbs up. "Can you hang around just in case?"
Oh, how Octillery hates to be idle, and Lee knows it. That brain of his starts eating itself if left with any free time, but with a great You Owe Me For This sigh, Octillery nods and props his tentacles up on the shore, resting his head on them.
"There." Lee turns to a frowning Lokoko, stepping back and gesturing for her to take the lead. "The floor is yours, Miss Lokoko."
"Mine, and quite wet, too," she grumbles, casting a smouldering look to a puddle by her foot, then giving Nine's slowly steaming paws a glance. She probably can't dry her own paws without blowing her own cover, can she? "I chose this locale specifically because of the low chance of a fire. I'm of the opinion that this was all unnecessary."
"And I've seen rocks catch fire before," is Lee's blithe answer. He leans back on a heel, arms crossed. "Ninetales has taught me a lot of lessons, and one of them is that everything is flammable if you try hard enough."
Ninetales hides a little smile behind a paw. "Flattery will get you everywhere," she titters aloud.
The dark, pretty eyes of Lokoko's disguise narrow slightly, but she doesn't argue further. "Very well. Let us begin with the mundane aspects and work our way up to something more strenuous." She is content to totally ignore Lee now, giving Ninetales her full attention. "Your physicality is plain to see, but the more mystical aspects are not so plain. For a baseline, can you show me your best Flamethrower?"
Ninetales blinks her ruby eyes. "My… best?" she questions slowly, ears pinning back briefly as she looks to Lee. "I don't believe I've truly given my all in, well, anything since my bout with Ty. I admit, I'm not actually sure what my true output is, having had little to judge against in the nigh-impervious training hall of the Dra - our prior benefactors," the fox cuts off naming the Draconid's secret hideaway in the Falls.
"I have to admit, it has me curious too." Lee rubs his chin, looking about the wet moss underfoot, then to a distant pile of craggy boulders. "Octillery!" he turns and calls. "Standby!"
In the stream, the red octopus firms up.
Trotting over to the unfortunate boulders who caught his eye, Lee clambers up them and peers down between them. When he can find no dozing Geodude, lurking Seviper, or Cascoon with an off sense for homes, he hops down and jogs back.
"Okay, Love." Lee steps back behind his Ace and gently pulls Lokoko with him by the shoulder. "Let it rip."
Ninetales steps forward, her tails fanning and chest rolling with liquid fire that leaves Lee's throat with a tingle.
Above, the afternoon sun punches through the overcast clouds as Drought spools up. The temperature jumps, going from a cool autumn day to the dead of summer at noon in seconds.
The moment Ninetales opens her mouth, every bit of moss on the ground for a good dozen feet explodes, flash-boiled instantly, and turns to char a second later.
As burning white overwhelms his eyes, Lee is silently glad he put Octillery on fireman duty.
They're going to need it.
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The waiting has to be the worst part, the anticipation of the first words to follow after dropping a bomb of such magnitude, Lee thinks. Even with Ninetales, Zinnia, and Brendan all around, silently acting as pillars, waiting for Steven's first proper response after Brendan's joke still yanks something in his stomach.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. The wall clock counts the seconds, unconcerned with the anxious needles each little tick tock drives into Lee's skin.
Steven draws in a breath, then shakes his head, his pale hair bouncing. "That was not what I was expecting to hear, if we're all being honest," he says, leveling Lee with an uncomfortable stare as he steeples his fingers on the table. "I think it would be best to start at the beginning."
"On that, we agree." Lee nods, then launches into the tale. By this point, it feels as if he's an old hand with this particular story.
He starts with his life before all of this, before being a trainer and how Pokemon was just a series of games and shows for children. He loved them, of course, even getting to the point that he played the game competitively for a time. Pokemon cemented itself in his heart as a love he'd take to the grave.
Across the table, Steven and Metagross listen with stony faces, or at least Steven does. Metagross's visage is already more or less immovable, but his eyes flicker red, akin to an LED hooked to a computer.
Could they be telepathically talking? A tiny, impulsive thought wonders what they would hear if Lee guided Nine's mental hand to the invisible cord between the champion and the living supercomputer.
Then come the details. His beloved zoo, and how it all started on a normal day whose peace was shattered by emergency sirens. The only notice that they got was that it was too late, no hows or whys, then…
FIRE.
PAIN.
BLACK.
"I died…" Lee breathes. What little tremors strike him are banished in seconds, as Ninetales, Brendan, and Zinnia all inch closer. "I died, and when I came to, it was on the outskirts of Littleroot Town, with Ninetales —then Vulpix's—pokeball in my pocket."
Steven's complexion has always leaned toward the pale side, a man who spends more time in mines and boardrooms than on beaches, but Lee is fairly sure the Champion has lost a shade or two in the last minute. His steel-gray eyes hold steady, though. Whatever's churning behind them, Steven keeps it locked down tight.
He clears his throat. "I assume you sought out Professor Birch shortly after your arrival."
"Had to," Lee confirms with a nod. "I was injured, alone save for a Vulpix I'd been acquainted with for only minutes, and dumped in the middle of nowhere with no ID, no money, and no idea how I got there." He shifts in his seat, lacing his fingers together on the table. "Nigel was the closest thing to a lifeline I had. I came clean to him, and he helped me get on my feet." Lee meets Steven's gaze directly, face apologetic. "Which means there are some fibs on my trainer license and citizenship paperwork that I'd ask you to forgive. Nigel did it from a place of kindness, not malice."
Steven waves a hand. "In the grand scheme of what you're telling me, a little creative paperwork is a minor concern." The hand settles back on the table, fingers drumming once. "What I'd like to understand is why you waited this long to bring this to someone in my position."
Lee exhales through his nose. He knew this question was coming.
"Call it an overabundance of caution," he says, the words careful. "I don't mean any insult by it, Steven, but I needed to be in a position where..." He trails off, searching for the right phrasing, then decides being plain will work better than any flowery words, and raises his wrist. In his watch, the rainbow keystone casts thin, multihued rays around the room. "Where vanishing me and mine for being inconvenient wasn't likely," he finishes, dropping his hand.
The expression on Steven's face twists, and the lack of a defence on his part is telling.
"I already lost one family." Lee's voice doesn't crack, but it comes close. Ninetales presses her flank harder against his calf beneath the table. "I will not lose a second. Not to anyone or anything."
Steven's brow creases, the frown settling deep. His fingers drum on the table once more, the steel bands on his index and ring fingers clacking.
"I understand," Steven finally speaks up, followed by a heaving sigh. "Even if your caution has caused me more than a few headaches over the past several months." He glances to his right, where Metagross stands like an iron monolith. The great pokemon's eyes flicker, then that massive head shakes a slow negative.
Steven turns back to Lee, and, with a small gesture, gives him the floor again.
Lee takes a steadying breath and shifts gears. "The games I mentioned," he begins, leaning forward slightly, "the third generation was set in Hoenn, and Magma and Aqua played the villains."
Steven's eyes narrow. It's not surprise on his face, exactly, but more like he's watching a puzzle piece rotate into its slot.
"What I've seen so far tracks with the broad strokes of the game's plot, though the details diverge. It was a game for children, so the real-world severity was... sanitized." Lee's jaw works for a second. "The core goals, though, those line up. Maxie intends to harness the power of Groudon and reshape the landmasses to his vision, death toll be damned. And Archie..." He pauses for a breath. "Archie wants to beseech Kyogre to drown the world, to wash away humanity, and start the whole world over from scratch. I know I told you what I suspected their aims were in Lavaridge, but this time, both of them have confirmed the worst case scenario to my face."
Whatever color Steven had managed to hold onto leaves his face in a slow drain. "You're certain?"
"Like I said, both have told me," Lee replies grimly. "Maxie on Mt. Chimney, and Archie last night. And I'm sorry to say, this isn't the only crisis I'm here to make you aware of."
"Of course not…" the champion murmurs, smoothing a non-existent wrinkle in his shirt. "What's next? A giant meteor hurtling toward the planet?"
When no one on the other side of the table replies, a slow grimace begins to take over Steven's face. "Really?"
Lee winces, the expression pulling at his scars. "You, ah... hit the nail on the head, actually."
Steven stares at him.
Lee glances to his left. "Zinnia? How did it go again?"
Zinnia straightens in her chair. The perpetual smirk worn like armor is nowhere to be found as Zinnia the troublemaker shuffles out of the way, making room for Zinnia the Lorekeeper.
"A prophecy has been made by the Oracle of my tribe. We've been hearing it for generations, but this is the first time we've ever had a time included," she says. Her voice carries a weight that Lee has rarely heard from her. The rough Draconid cadence slips in, her Rs gaining an edge and Gs one step back from a growl. "Beware. Beware the hateful intruder. Beware the end of our home. It comes uncomprehending of our plight, and with a shell of earth born to another sun, it will see our home gone and her inhabitants reduced to ash." Her crimson eyes hold Steven's without flinching. "Only the Almighty Who Claims The Sky and a Champion with the power of Ascension might avert disaster. Save us, Almighty. Save us, Champion, or the longest day shall also be the last."
The words settle over the room like a funeral shroud. Even Metagross's eyes dim for a moment, the flickering slows.
Zinnia doesn't waste time and continues. "The best minds in my tribe have picked this apart from every angle. The consensus is a meteor, a large one, large enough to decimate Hoenn at the absolute minimum, with something guiding it here." She folds her arms. "The summer solstice is the predicted arrival date."
Steven opens his mouth, but Zinnia isn't done.
"I've already tried other channels. The Mossdeep Space Center, independent astronomers, anyone who might be able to corroborate it or do something about it." She shakes her head. "Nada. And my original plan to handle it..." She trails off, her gaze dropping to the table. Guilt and shame flicker across her face. "That should really be a last resort."
'Rayquaza.' Lee swallows. 'Who would only come down if both Kyogre and Groudon clashed.'
Steven doesn't answer right away. He leans back in his chair slowly, one hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose.
"Team Aqua and Team Magma are known threats," he says at last, letting his hand drop. "Organizations with documented criminal activity, known leadership, and a pattern of escalation. I can justify the funds and manpower to combat them, even if I still have personal reservations about whether the Legendary pokemon they're after truly exist." He pauses, choosing his next words with visible care. "A meteor, however... I cannot split the League's resources a third way with nothing but words to support it."
Zinnia's scowl is immediate and sharp. "We just told you that a pair of lunatics want to wake up a couple of gods and rearrange the planet, and you're cool with that, and this is where you draw the line?"
"I'm not calling anyone at this table a liar." Steven holds a hand up in defence. "But I need you to look at this from my position. If I acted on every warning that came from sources I couldn't independently verify, the League would be caught up in a thousand wild Swanna chases with nothing to show for it." He spreads his hands on the table, palms down. "Champion or not, that kind of decision-making invites scrutiny, the kind that could end with someone else, who might be less sympathetic, in my office."
He looks between Lee and Zinnia, then settles on a point somewhere between them. "Is there anything you can provide that adds credence to this? Both the meteor and the feasibility of what Aqua and Magma are attempting?"
Lee's stomach tightens. He'd hoped Steven would take them at their word, but he knew, even before walking in here, that hope was a thin one.
'Nine.' He keeps the thought small and tucked in deep, even if he's sure Metagross cannot hear it. 'Should we show him what we saw?'
Ninetales doesn't hesitate. 'If the visage of The Renegade cannot convince him, then nothing in this world will.'
"I might have something," Lee says aloud, and every pair of eyes in the room locks onto him. "But it's not something I can explain with words alone. It's a memory, one you'll need to see to believe."
Steven and Metagross share a look. It's brief, no more than a second, but Lee catches it all the same. The slight tilt of Steven's head and the almost imperceptible shift in Metagross's posture hints at words he cannot hear.
"Are you sure?" Steven asks, turning back. "Interfacing psychically with Metagross can be... pretty intense."
The unspoken, deeply uncomfortable hangs in the air like smoke. Lee appreciates the warning, he does, but after what happened in that crater, after staring into a void that stared back with eyes like pooling blood, Metagross can only be pleasant by comparison. "I'm sure," Lee insists.
Beneath the table, Lee reaches for Ninetales with more than just his hand. Their minds slide together like interlocking fingers, the familiar warmth of her consciousness pressing against his until the seams blur. The edges of Lee and Nine overlap and hold fast, with only the severity of the coming chore keeping them from falling into a feedback loop of bliss.
They're just getting situated when Brendan speaks up for the first time since the meeting began.
"Is this about that psychic message you got?" The younger trainer's thoughtful expression cracks, his brows rising as something clicks behind his eyes. "The one in the crater?"
Lee nods, being very careful to use his own mouth and not move Nine's by mistake. Yipping like a fox in the middle of the most important conversation of his life thus far would be a special kind of humiliating. "It is," he confirms.
Zinnia leans forward, both elbows on the table. "Then we want in too." She jerks a thumb between herself and Brendan. "You said you didn't want to explain things more than once, right?"
Lee chews on his lip. "I don't know…"
"C'mon, Lee." Brendan taps his side with an elbow. The touch of apprehension in the boy's blue eyes isn't missed, but he smiles all the same. "It's been bothering you for weeks, and a burden shared is half a burden, or something like that. You've already gotten everything else off your chest, so what's a little more?"
'Damn it, Brendan.' Lee screws his eyes shut. 'Why do you have to be so hard to say no to?'
"Alright," Lee relents, opening his eyes once more. "But fair warning, both of you. You might need some time to process after this is over."
Brendan squares his shoulders. Zinnia just raises an eyebrow, as if to say try me.
Lee and Nine reach out together, a coordinated motion as practiced as any move. Gossamer threads of thought extend toward Brendan first, the touch feather-light, and Lee feels the boy's surprise as the connection takes hold. A sharp inhale, a flicker of instinctive, fearful resistance that they wait out, then acceptance. Zinnia is next, and her mind is harder to grip, a slippery, guarded thing that bristles at the intrusion before she consciously forces herself to relax. Two sets of metaphorical eyes settle in behind Lee and Nine's shoulders, peering out through borrowed perception.
Then Ninetales flinches, and Lee feels why a half-second later.
Metagross's probe brushes against them from the outside. It's nothing like Ninetales's warmth, nothing like the silk-and-ember texture of their bond. This is cold, prickly, like a stripped copper cable pressing against bare skin. There's a slight sting as they let it in, sharp as needles, allowing the connection just deep enough to siphon the data they intend to share and nothing more.
Lee steadies himself, then looks across the table.
"Before we begin," he says, "I have to ask. Are you a religious man, Steven?"
Sweat has begun to dot the Champion's brow. His posture is still composed, but the fine tremor in his jaw tells Lee that even riding in Metagross's backseat during a psychic link is taking its toll.
"Not particularly," Steven manages.
Inwardly, Lee wishes he had brought some water with him, as his mouth is dry. "You will be after this."
As one, he and Ninetales lift the black-stained memory to the surface, and the warm meeting room in the rear of the Pokemon Center goes dark.
Well, the world is dark besides a pair of eyes of fire red, which stand too close, yet also a world away.
I am Giratina, The Antithesis, The Renegade, The Opposite Side of the Great Scale. We are all part of His Plan, one of delicate balance and lockstep. His Plan is perfect, and leads to perfection, just as He is, but all worlds of monsters and men are discord.
"You two okay?"
Lee's voice comes out weaker than he intends. With Steven and Metagross gone and the psychic lattice on the walls long since dissolved, the ambient hum of the Pokemon Center bleeds back through. It's practically thunder in the pregnant silence, and Lee's words are almost lost.
Zinnia is leaned back in her chair, head tilted against the backrest, staring at the ceiling blank and unfocused, her thoughts seemingly far, far away. Her arms sit crossed under the hem of her cropped shirt, on her midriff.
On the other side, Brendan rolls Swampert's pokeball between his fingers in a slow, repetitive rhythm. Palm to knuckles, knuckles to palm, and back again. His eyes track the motion without really seeing it. The ball rattled with anxious shakes at first, but has since settled to let the young trainer fidget in peace.
Lee waits. Ninetales, still pressed against his leg, waits with him.
'Was that too much, showing them everything directly?' he asks the vixen warming his legs.
'They asked, Beloved,' she is quick to answer, but the rolling, unsure embers in her belly are plain to him. Rare doubt colors her words. 'Would either have dropped the subject if excluded, informed only by word?'
No. He already knows.
After a long moment, Zinnia is the one to break the silence.
"So," she says, still staring at the ceiling. "I never really doubted any of it. The gods, the legends, all that. Hard to doubt when Granny and every elder in the village sing the praises of Rayquaza." She rolls her head to one side, cracking her neck. "Even harder when you stand at the base of the Sky Pillar on pilgrimage and feel something up there looking back at you."
She's quiet for a beat, then lets out a long breath through her nose.
"But damn." The word comes out flat, almost reverent. "If there were any doubts hiding in the back of my head, they're gone now." A pause. Then, without lifting her gaze from the ceiling, the corner of her mouth twitches. "Oh, and for what it's worth? Giratina was totally lying when it said you weren't its first pick. It probably just said that so you don't get a big head."
Lee sighs. "I'm glad your humor is still intact, poor as it is."
"Shut it, Dolittle. I was being serious."
Lee shakes his head and turns to Brendan.
The younger trainer doesn't look up right away. His fingers keep rolling the pokeball, back and forth, back and forth. When he finally glances at Lee, it's only for a second before his eyes drop back to the ball in his hand.
"I didn't realize how deep it all went," Brendan says softly. Then his jaw works, like he's chewing on something he isn't sure he should swallow. "Lee, were you... were you actually mad that you didn't die?"
Zinnia sucks in a sharp breath through her teeth. Under the table, Ninetales lifts her head and fixes Brendan with a perturbed glare. Lee feels her protective anger spike, hot and immediate, not at Brendan, but at the question itself, and at the wound she fears will reopen.
Ah. So Brendan wasn't too dazzled or horrified by Giratina to miss that part.
Lee looks away. His gaze finds the far wall.
"Things..." he starts, then stops and tries again. "It would have been easier, or less painful for sure, If I'd just... passed on."
The words are as ugly as they are honest.
"But that was just me getting angry and lashing out at something I couldn't control." He turns back to face them, and the effort it takes to meet Brendan's eyes is more than he'd like to admit. "For everything I lost, I've gained something back. More than something. If I'd passed, I wouldn't have the pokemon I have now. I wouldn't have you two, or Nigel, or any of it."
He runs a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly as a small smile rises to his face. "I'm not happy with how it came to be, but I am happy to be here, with all of you."
A half-hearted smile surfaces on Brendan's face. It's not the boy's usual bright grin, not even close, and beneath it something still lingers, something Lee can't quite name.
The silence stretches for three more seconds before Zinnia's chair legs slam down against the floor.
"Alright!" She stands, clapping her hands together loud enough to make Brendan jump. "This serious shit has taken way too long. The champ is on board, the doom and gloom has been properly shared, and that means it's time for a nice, big, celebratory lunch." She points a finger squarely at Lee's chest. "Your treat!"
Brendan blinks, his troubled expression cracking. "Zinnia, you're supposed to say 'my treat' when you suggest something like that."
Zinnia sniffs, keeping her finger aimed at Lee like a loaded weapon. "His fault things got so real and gloomy in there. He should be the one to fix it."
Lee stares at the accusatory finger, then at Zinnia's completely unapologetic face.
"Really feeling the love," he says dryly as he and Brendan stand as well. "It sucks that it's for my wallet and not me."
Zinnia throws her head back with a cackling laugh, and with that, they finally vacate the meeting room.
Down the hall and into the bustling Pokemon Center lobby, they find Lokoko lounging in a far corner on a couch, alone and sitting serenely with her eyes closed.
'Or her avatar's eyes are closed, at least,' Lee mentally mutters to Ninetales, looking up and down the couch. 'Is her real body stretched out there, unseen?'
As they approach, she cracks one eye open, then stands in one neat motion, dusting off her kimono. "All went well, I hope?" the disguised kitsune asks.
"As well as it could," Lee says, keeping his answer simple. "We were thinking about getting some lunch, my treat…" He stops just long enough to cast a narrow-eyed look at a grinning Zinnia behind him, then gives Lokoko his attention again. "Would you like to join us? We could discuss the specifics of your proposed tests and experiments over it if you like."
"That's gentlemanly of you, Mister Henson. I would be delighted to join," Lokoko replies with a small smile.
They leave the Pokemon Center and wander Fortree's main thoroughfare for a short while, taking in the city at street level. It's even greener from down here than it was from the air, the canopy filtering the sunlight into dappled patterns across the sidewalk. The air smells of damp earth and flowering vines, and Lee once more takes the time to thank his lucky stars for the lack of a pollen allergy. With the scent of the earth is the occasional waft of something cooking drifting out from open storefronts.
It doesn't take long to find what they're looking for. A casual dining spot called The Nesting Branch sits at the intersection of two main streets, its most appealing feature being a generous outdoor patio sectioned off with low wooden fences and dotted with oversized seating areas clearly designed for trainers with larger pokemon. A Tropius dozes in the far corner, its banana-like fruit dangling lazily as its trainer eats beside it.
They claim a table near the edge of the patio and release their teams with a cavalcade of pokeball flashes, and the space fills up fast. Corviknight settles behind Lee's chair like a steel sentinel, his talons clicking on the wooden deck. Sceptile finds a sunny patch of railing to lean against, arms crossed. Ninetales, predictably, takes the spot directly beside Lee, her tails kindly pulled together so as not to take more than her fair share of the bench. Sylveon and Octillery are content off to the side, while Shinx squeezes her way between Lee and Ninetales on the bench.
Predictably, Latias draws stares that she shrinks from, going partially translucent, but when Salamence's bulk comes out, the curious eyes remember their manners and return to their own meals.
As they get comfortable, Lee can't help but look between Zinnia and Salamence. The great dragon tries his best to look unflappable, but, over and over, his eyes trail down to Zinnia. More specifically, they hone in on the half-healed arm he burned.
The waitress who comes out with menus doesn't bat an eye at the small army. She's a sturdy woman with laugh lines on her face, and she takes each order with patience, jotting down trainer meals and pokemon preferences alike. When Shinx, still smooshed between Lee and Nine, changes her mind for the second time, the waitress just smiles and scratches out the previous entry without complaint.
"Take your time, sweetie," she tells the little electric type, and Shinx's ears perk up proudly at being addressed directly.
Lee is already doing the math in his head and wincing. Four trainers, over a dozen pokemon with more than one supersized appetite, and the kind of well-earned tip this woman deserves for her patience is going to clear the thousand credit mark easily.
'You could have told Zinnia off, you know,' Nine observes, a thread of amusement from her curling between his ribs, leaving all it touches light and airy. 'There was no need to agree.'
'I was guilt-tripped, so don't make it sound like I had a real choice.'
Once the food arrives and everyone settles into the comfortable rhythm of eating, Lee turns his attention to Lokoko. Ninetales shifts beside him, angling one ear.
"So," Lee begins, setting his fork down. "Your tests and experiments. What exactly are you hoping to learn, Miss Lokoko?"
Lokoko dabs at the corner of her mouth with a napkin, then sets her own fork down with deliberate care. "My primary goal," she says, "is to survey the nature of your supposed gestalthood."
Halfway down the table, Zinnia snorts past a massive bite of what looks like a pulled pork sandwich. She chews, swallows, and grins. "'Gestalthood.' Sounds like something you'd read in a dirty book."
Lokoko turns a look on Zinnia that could freeze lava. It's brief, barely a second, but the sheer aristocratic disgust packed into that single glance is almost impressive. Then she returns to Lee as if the interruption never happened.
"Beyond that, the population of individual Ninetales around the world has been on a steady downward trend for generations." Even if the face looking at him is fake, the half-second of anguish on it seems distressingly real to Lee. "My ultimate goal with these assessments is to ensure that your Ninetales is safe. That the bond you share isn't causing her undue harm."
'Judging something so profoundly intimate is hardly the place of an outsider.' Nine's mental voice carries a stiff edge.
'Not all contrary views to our own are baseless,' Lee sends back, keeping his own tone measured. 'But I agree that she seems to have a personal angle in this.'
He pauses, turning the thought over carefully.
'She's not drawing parallels between us, herself, and her late master, is she?'
Ninetales doesn't answer that one, but the ripple of unease splashed with sympathy is telling enough.
Outwardly, Lee keeps his expression neutral and gestures for Lokoko to continue.
She does, primly folding her hands on the table. "I would also like to test Ninetales in several fields to determine her overall health and well-being. Physicality, aptitude with her moves and abilities, mastery of her fire, and a few other miscellaneous areas I'd prefer to assess in person rather than describe in the abstract."
Lee nods along, considering. "That sounds reasonable. If Nine's amenable, I can share a few relevant sections from my research notebooks to give you a baseline. It'll save us some time on the fundamentals."
'You wrote those notebooks,' Nine says with a roll of her eyes. 'You hardly need my permission to freely show your own thoughts.'
'They pertain to you, so you deserve a say in what gets shared.' Lee keeps his mental tone light. 'Besides, I was already planning on keeping a few entries to myself.'
A thin eyebrow rises on Ninetales' face. 'Such as?'
'Such as the note about how your stomach disagrees with onions.'
Ninetales goes very, very still beside him. The warmth in their connection doesn't change, but the texture of it does, shifting from comfortable silk to something with considerably more starch.
'Do not show her a single page until I have read through the entire thing first.'
Lee fights to keep his mouth from twitching.
Across the table, Lokoko's eyes flick between Lee and Ninetales. Her brow creases, just slightly. She just missed hearing a choice secret and isn't pleased about it.
'Best get used to it, Lokoko.' Lee takes another bite of his meal, chewing slowly. 'Good intentions or no, mine and Nine's minds are our own.'
Corviknight needs a day of personal attention all to himself, Lee decides. It's only right to get some pampering after how much the knightly bird has to play taxi, so pecha-scented polish and a new buffing wheel for the angle grinder at the bottom of his bag goes onto the ever-growing mental shopping list.
An hour north by way of steel raven express finds Lee and Lokoko descending to the rocky foot of a low, wide mountain, towards a patch of stony ground growing naught but moss despite the bubbling stream that divides it in half.
Corvi's talons let out truncated screeches as he lands with his passengers, and a number of the boulders dotting the clearing open their eyes. One look at the monster-sized Steel-type is all the various Geodudes and a pair of Gravelers need to see before they trundle away to the safety of the mountain.
As he did in Fortree, Lee steps off Corvi's saddle first, then offers a hand to Lokoko, earning a quiet "thank you" as she hops down.
"So," Lee begins, taking in the rough, mostly level ground around them as he pulls not one, but two pokeballs from his belt. "First things first—fire safety. Octillery!"
The first ball leaves his hand in an arc towards the stream, and halfway through its flight, it cracks open, depositing its load right into the stream with a splash!
Lokoko backs up a step, avoiding some errant drops with a grimace, while Lee just lifts an arm to keep any stream water from nailing him in the eye.
The stream bubbles, then Octillery's bulbous head breaches the water. He only gives his surroundings a moment of his time before looking at Lee, an eyebrow raised.
"We're going to have Ninetales cut loose, pal." Lee gives the octopus a smile. "Can you dampen our testing ground to keep the chance of a wildfire down?"
Octillery touches a tentacle to his round little mouth and lets his eyes roll skyward in a show of thought. He regards the flaky, stony ground, then shrugs and dips back under the water.
Sluuuuuuuuurp…
A moment later, he breaches once more, his head swollen so much it seems like it might pop, before leaning back and…
FWOOOOM!
…shooting a torrent high up, a hundred feet easily. The cone of water erupting from his mouth flies with take-your-skin-off force. If there is anyone around to see, surely they're mistaking it for a freak geyser.
"Mister Henson," Lokoko tersely begins, wide eyes tracking the fat raindrops beginning to fall. She takes a fistful of his sleeve and pulls herself behind him. "Perhaps you should have waited for me to move?"
"I'm not a jerk, Miss Lokoko." Lee allows himself a small, mischievous grin. Part of him wonders if he should be rankling a Ninetales far less invested in his well-being than Nine, but there is no aborting the joke halfway through. He lets Lokoko's eyes get just a bit wider before the other pokeball in his hand pops open.
Ninetales takes shape beside him opposite of Lokoko, eyes already faintly glowing.
The air above them ripples into an invisible, telekinetic awning, and not a moment too soon.
Five whole seconds of harsh rain batters the ground and the psychic umbrella above, producing a rapid pitter-patter like a downpour on a window. When the last of the droplets finally returns back to planet earth, the only dry bit of ground is the wide circle around Lee, Ninetales, and the other, woman-shaped Ninetales.
"Thanks, Octy." Lee gives his sole Water-type a thumbs up. "Can you hang around just in case?"
Oh, how Octillery hates to be idle, and Lee knows it. That brain of his starts eating itself if left with any free time, but with a great You Owe Me For This sigh, Octillery nods and props his tentacles up on the shore, resting his head on them.
"There." Lee turns to a frowning Lokoko, stepping back and gesturing for her to take the lead. "The floor is yours, Miss Lokoko."
"Mine, and quite wet, too," she grumbles, casting a smouldering look to a puddle by her foot, then giving Nine's slowly steaming paws a glance. She probably can't dry her own paws without blowing her own cover, can she? "I chose this locale specifically because of the low chance of a fire. I'm of the opinion that this was all unnecessary."
"And I've seen rocks catch fire before," is Lee's blithe answer. He leans back on a heel, arms crossed. "Ninetales has taught me a lot of lessons, and one of them is that everything is flammable if you try hard enough."
Ninetales hides a little smile behind a paw. "Flattery will get you everywhere," she titters aloud.
The dark, pretty eyes of Lokoko's disguise narrow slightly, but she doesn't argue further. "Very well. Let us begin with the mundane aspects and work our way up to something more strenuous." She is content to totally ignore Lee now, giving Ninetales her full attention. "Your physicality is plain to see, but the more mystical aspects are not so plain. For a baseline, can you show me your best Flamethrower?"
Ninetales blinks her ruby eyes. "My… best?" she questions slowly, ears pinning back briefly as she looks to Lee. "I don't believe I've truly given my all in, well, anything since my bout with Ty. I admit, I'm not actually sure what my true output is, having had little to judge against in the nigh-impervious training hall of the Dra - our prior benefactors," the fox cuts off naming the Draconid's secret hideaway in the Falls.
"I have to admit, it has me curious too." Lee rubs his chin, looking about the wet moss underfoot, then to a distant pile of craggy boulders. "Octillery!" he turns and calls. "Standby!"
In the stream, the red octopus firms up.
Trotting over to the unfortunate boulders who caught his eye, Lee clambers up them and peers down between them. When he can find no dozing Geodude, lurking Seviper, or Cascoon with an off sense for homes, he hops down and jogs back.
"Okay, Love." Lee steps back behind his Ace and gently pulls Lokoko with him by the shoulder. "Let it rip."
Ninetales steps forward, her tails fanning and chest rolling with liquid fire that leaves Lee's throat with a tingle.
Above, the afternoon sun punches through the overcast clouds as Drought spools up. The temperature jumps, going from a cool autumn day to the dead of summer at noon in seconds.
The moment Ninetales opens her mouth, every bit of moss on the ground for a good dozen feet explodes, flash-boiled instantly, and turns to char a second later.
As burning white overwhelms his eyes, Lee is silently glad he put Octillery on fireman duty.
They're going to need it.
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Spearow
Respect the bird
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missed opportunity to say it was Borne of Caution instead of overabundance of caution, this was your one opportunity to name drop here and you chose not to, very sad turn of word.
Vanbers
Connoisseur.
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It came from a place of caution. Why, one might even say it was borne of it.
Despacitoleo
Experienced.
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ThunderBasilisk
Well Worn Bastion
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All problems can be solved with fire and if it can't clearly your not using enough. Also Steven got one hellova religious experience so hopefully Grand Meteor Delta can be handled a lot easier. Though I have my doubts. Prophecy are weird like that.
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