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Malevolent Tactician

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Ƞɸӽ Ⱥʅϲɦєɾɨ
βɑρϮɨɀєɗ Ъӌ Ϯɦϵ ϝʅαɱϵϛ,
αɲɗ ЪαϮɦєɗ ɨɲ α Ъαsɨɲ ϕϝ Ъlϕϕɗ,
ӌϕʊ ωɨʅʅ ӄɲϕw Ϯɦє pϕwєr ϕϝ ӺȈɌΣ!


ɌΦȼӄεϯ`•.¸¸.••´´¯``•• .¸¸.•´םɸɳ


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Momentarily ignoring the woman at his side, as the end of the battle and departure of Alcyone and Nightshade had otherwise occupied his attention, he first looked to the larger, earth-toned bodyguard who looked back to him and appeared to be in charge of the other three. The demon’s red eyes, heightened in beauty and danger by the skilled application of black eyeliner and mascara, ignited with murderous intent as he smiled ruthlessly. “Seize him.”

“Yes, sir,” Derek replied, donning a crisp black suit that barely contained his muscle tone, as he advanced on the man who had just been humiliated by one of the Rocket Capos and the Aqua Donna. The formidable looking man in his late thirties could best be described as tall and powerful, his closely cropped brown hair giving him a sharp and clean appearance. Following closely were the other three men in suits, who all looked several years younger. Jonathan, if Nox could recall his name, was tawny, fair-skinned, and willowy, with a lazy, happy countenance that reminded him of a Sunflora. Cooper, a name he had already forgotten, had the shortest stature of them all, but most powerfully built of the guards; heavy slabs of muscle covered his frame, in spite of making him look chubby. Michael, tall and olive toned, glared at the whimpering grunt through his black and canted eyes.

Cooper and Jonathan took the imbecile by each arm, holding him in place. The defeated grunt with a name Nox didn’t care to learn struggled and cried helplessly, begging for mercy. Michael launched a well aimed, open palmed, strike into the man’s jaw, rendering him unconscious as he went cross-eyed and slumped against his captors.

“Take him to a bed, he needs to sleep off his hangover,” Nox said coldly, in his usual contralto inflection, knowing full well that his prey’s fate would be sealed in due time. “I want to have dinner with him tonight and learn what he knows.”

“You heard him,” growled Derek, raising his voice to his subordinates so as to prompt them to haul the collapsed man to the car and to the hideout. Though they gained distance until they were beyond the sight of anyone in the cemetery, Derek remained. Nox wasn’t surprised by the fact that at least one of the bodyguards, especially the leader, stayed with him. Archer insisted that he’d need protection at all times with the advent of Emilio’s disappearance and his ascension to Don. The unit of mercenaries, Archer’s mercenaries, called their unit ‘Wings of Lugia’ and they were thorough. Hell, they even took shifts outside of his chambers while he slept.

The fact that they were gradually becoming a part of the scenery was what unnerved Nox the most.

“Evil is just a matter of perspective,” Nox reflected bitterly, having been called evil many times before. Kokori Sorcral now held his attention, since there was nothing else of greater import.

“Well, Kokori,” Nox began, smiling as though the fiasco that had erupted into a pokemon battle just a moment ago had never even transpired, “I am afraid that I will not speak of such matters in public.”

The crowd had whittled down as mourners began to proceed with their day, giving no implication that any of them had taken pause to consider the fate of the loudmouthed troublemaker. Yet, even as the crowd was shrinking, they were not alone.

“However, there is a mausoleum for pokemon at the heart of this cemetery. Shall we go there?” Nox asked, immediately heading in that direction without even awaiting the woman’s answer. “As we walk, you can tell me whether or not this interest in my brother is yours and yours alone.”

“Though,” he added with a wry chuckle, “you are the first to ask me such a question about my brother.”

There was a momentary pause as an idea formed.

“For that,” declared the Don, “you may join us for dinner. I do hope you relay to your superiors in Unova just how hospitable I truly am.”

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Beloved Foe

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Kokori Sorcral

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Kokori stayed silent observing the Red Demon's orders, watching the guards taking the intoxicated male by force. Feeling uneasy and almost pitied the man, as he cried and wailed for mercy. It was an unspoken known fate for the man, he kne whe was going to die at the hands of the infamous new Don of the Rocket family. You didn't act like that in the presence of Nox and get away with it that was for sure.

But the woman could not judge him for if it were her responsibility she would do the same, she wasn't a perfect lady by any means, she had killed more men then she could even account for. That was the business, it was the mob, there was no other way. Some how that had escaped her mind flr the short time Emilio had been missing, but Nox's ruthless nature had reminded her all too well. You're never safe in this game, no matter how powerful, or important, or lack there of, you are never safe.

She gulped heavily at this realization scratching the feathers behind Slash's armored face, making the pokémon shiver its metal plaited body. When the large olive skined male struck the drunk unconscious it made Kokori shiver a little herself. There was something about physical hand to hand injuries that made the woman sick. It wasn't long before the Demon's eyes were back on her, his make up putting her natural face to shame.

His smile was chilling, sending shivers down her back, and the presence of the guard unnerved her even more. For a woman who was at the breaking point she was doing a pretty good job of keeping herself together, as frightened as she was of the man (whom so far had proven true to his reputation) she could not let her fear show. To do so could prove to have deadly consequences, not to mention it would not look good upon her impression, how could the brother of the former Don believe Emilio could ever have an interest in a weak woman? So she kept her composure.

"I am afraid that I will not speak of these matters in public."

Kokori noticed although most of the crowd had moved on they were still in company and she respected that the topic of such matters probably wasn't safe amongst angsty and grieving guests. She nodded and listened further.

"However, there is a mausoleum for pokemon at the heart of the cemetery. Shall we go there?" He started walking away and without skipping a beat Kokori walked along side of him, Slash loyally keeping up with his trainer.


"As we walk, you can tell me weather or not this interest in my brother is yours and yours alone." Before the worn woman could answer him, he continued.

"Though. . ." His chuckle sent shivers down her spine once more. "You are the first to ask me suck a question about my brother." What'd he said next shocked the woman.

"For that, you may join us for dinner. I hope you relay to your superiors in Unova just how hospitable I truly am."

Her stomach sunk, the words he had spoken earlier about drunk echoed in the back of her mind. "I want to have dinner with him tonight and learn what he knows." But the woman shook it off quickly, it was most likely a far fetched idea he would try and slaughter her with such an invitation. She gave a small smiled and nodded.

"Thank you for the invitation Don Alcheri, and I will be sure to inform the Plasmas of your generous manners." Kokori was keeping cool with the situation, she had to fake her confidence just to be sure she didn't let Nox get the upper hand.

"As far as Emilio goes, my family doesn't have much interest if any in the affairs of the rockets, we welcome you in trade, as Unova pokemon are the rarest of all seeing as they can't be found anywhere else." She paused clearing her throat getting back to her point. "Emilio fascinated me, there was always a charm about him whenever we crossed paths. And if we had anything to do with the rockets it was mostly driven by my desire to see your brother again." A light blush formed on her cheeks.

"But, unfortunately that came at a price. The Don suspected I was up to no good, and I have been demoted from Underboss to a mear captain." A slight growl escaped her lips as that wound was still fresh and it vexed her still.

"But I guess it doesn't matter now, what's done is done."

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Ursine Warlord

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Stefan Schwertwulf
ΞΞΞΞΞΞΞΞ

Silence. For a moment, at least. Then there was the panic. A heavier young man with a baby's face, his visage turning red with fear. That would be Sam. His file had stuck out, tagged as a potential infiltrator, but moreso to Stefan because of his shape. Laziness was a poor trait for a pokemon trainer, and even worse for an Indigo. Stefan watched him flee with no small amount of disdain. The soldiers let him go, but he'd have a tail, just like Ms. Amano likely had by now. No harm would befall them, at least not from the hands of Sonezaki's organization. However, panicked rats often led the cats to interesting places. Warehouses, bars, even the occasional brothel. . . rocket hideouts and meeting halls to be bookmarked for raids when the Family or the police had strength enough. Not that he would actually be permitted far enough to actually find refuge. There would be questions to ask. The others looked nervous, but no more broke and ran. Stefan was less concerned by two confirmed spies than he had been by one. If there was one, there was always more. Perhaps the Rockets had only decided to discard two grunts this time around.

"What are you going to do to them?"

The speaker looked the most ill of the new recruits, Stefan reflected as Ben responded casually, yet honestly. This was the boring part. Stefan had yet to argue with his President over a new recruit, and trusted him entirely with the decision. Unfortunately, that did not mean he could lean back and begin his research. No, he still had his duty, and he had promised he could carry on with it. After Ben made his decision on each, they went to stand near their captains. There was one captain he needed to speak to though, and a glance and a wave was enough. He came over wordlessly, waiting for Stefan to speak first. He did so, his voice low and even.

"So, Heath. . . what was that? Both those little runts were sponsored by you, weren't they? I'm fairly sure you're not a rocket, and if you were you're still too clever to bring in a pair of idiots like that and endanger yourself."

"Sir, the boy was my younger cousin. I didn't know him well enough, but my uncle and aunt both check out. They are both honest people, I swear, but too old to get involved with us. I figured he'd be a good choice. He approached me, and when I said okay, he said he'd bring his girlfriend."

There was a problem lying in his words, like a seviper coiled under a log. The problem wasn't Heath. It was what was known about Heath.

"He approached you?"

"Yes, sir."

"Are you still dating that Erin girl?"

"No sir. We broke up, on account of her not appreciating the magnetism of a pretty woman's bosom on a young man's eyes."

"Well, she may have your lechery to thank for her life. Don't go home tonight. Spend the night at my place. Here's my spare. Make yourself at home, just lock the doors and such. If Kouki and Reiner give you trouble, the code was the name of my partner."

"Sir, I. . . ."

"Relax, just try not to be followed. Its not my safehouse, but its safer than your apartment is." That, at least, could not be argued. Stefan's legal residence was a new, solidly engineered villa. Between the two guards constantly present, the security system, and Stefan's own ability it would take a small army to breach it, and a force that size would be noticeable enough to evade. That, and the Rockets risked significant losses and exposure if they dared to attack it and learned he wasn't home.

Heath nodded his head, muttered another apology, and left without the two youth that had followed him there. Solara soon showed up in his stead, still dripping water. She, at least, had the good graces not to shake and cover everyone in river water. Her fur was glowing slightly, though and Stefan realized she was drawing extra sunlight to herself to help dry her fur. He stretched up and patted her head affectionately. She didn't like water, and if any of the goldeen under the bridge had felt particularly brazen, she'd be smelling of burnt ozone and fried fish and be in an even worse mood. Stefan turned his attention back to his president, who was now on the last one, the one who had tried to question Benjamin about his plans for the rescued pokemon.

This should be interesting.



░░▒▒▓▓To the last, I grapple with thee
from Hell's heart, I stab at thee
for hate's sake, I spit my last breath at thee.▓▓▒▒░░
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"I will confront and fight for the souls in this street, the starting point of a new revolution."
Cearra Petra Park

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Cearra smiled, sipping on her glass of lemonade. She was content, sitting on her favorite leather chair by the fireplace. There was a shiny new clipboard filled to the brim with information. Sure, she had missed Emilio's funeral, but it didn't mean she couldn't be jovial. She had so much to do, and she reveled in that fact. She stared down at her clipboard. The first few pages were plastered with data concerning her mines and casinos, and information on the going-ons of the world. She skipped past those to find the notices. The new recruits page was extremely bare. Cearra narrowed her eyes. What did she have to do to get more people to join her? She was getting increasingly annoyed. Throughout the past few months, the family's success had been dropping. Not many people were joining, a small island had been lost to the Aquas, and their gem finds were down. She needed a way to get back on track. Am I really going to have to leave the villa? Her perfect day was turning into a disaster. She gritted her teeth and moved back to the data pages. The miners were doing pretty well, and the casinos had done worse in the past, so not all was unfavorable. Pokemon trafficking was a relatively new branch of their family, so she wasn't surprised that it brought her the least money this week. Cearra shot her eyes up to the fireplace as she had an idea. Smirking, she threw the clipboard down on her chair and stood up, brushing her suit down.


"Segomo, darling, we have work to do," she cooed as she tossed the Blaziken's pokeball. He exploded out of it, obviously excited. She waited a moment for the flames to die down, then turned to her guards. "Inform the hierarchy. We're going to Mauville city to negotiate with our breeders." She could hardly contain her excitement. This was bound to get her more money. She waited for her guards to come back, then walked to the flight bay of her villa. There waited three Aerodactyls. She hopped on one right away, putting away Segomo for the moment, and her two guards followed. They all propelled into flight.
~
Cearra didn't know how long they had been flying, but they finally arrived in route 117. She let the Aerodactyl move off to the side to rest, and sent out Segomo. Cearra grinned in anticipation. Her guards opened the door to the Breeding Center, and Cearra sauntered in. There were a few people inside already, so Cearra leaned against a wall to the right. She saw the woman behind the desk stare at her for a moment before nervously whispering to the customers to leave. Cearra narrowed her eyes and walked up to her."I trust nothing revealing was said?"She snarled. The woman paled, and shook her head quickly. Cearra smiled. "Good. Now, I have business to discuss with you. And I assume these words won't be repeated?The woman shook her head again, and Cearra blinked."Good. I'm going to need eggs. A lot of them. 5 eggs of each Hoenn starter to be exact, plus 10 Eevee eggs. I trust this can be done?"The breeder was obviously scared, and choosing her words carefully. She was also nervously petting her Flareon."Ma'am, with all due respect, that is a near impossible task, especially if you need them soon. I'm not sure I can…"She was interrupted by Cearra's two guards stepping forward, and Segomo flaring up. Segomo snatched the Flareon and tossed it easily across the room. The woman shrieked. Cearra leaned over the desk lazily."Darling, I'm not sure we understand each other. If you can't do this for me, I'm afraid Flareon won't be the only one wounded at the end of the day.Cearra's eyes opened wide, her face exploding with newfound energy."So if you value this establishment at all, you will give us those eggs. And if you happen to let slip any of this, the punishment will be the same. We have other breeders we could go to, but we chose you. So you will do this job for us. Do I make myself clear?" The woman shrank backwards and nodded. Cearra automatically reverted to her old self."Thank you sweetie. I'll be checking in next week. I hope to see results! Good luck."Cearra waved and walked out of the shop, glancing sadly at the Flareon on the ground. It was one of her favorite pokemon; she wished Segomo hadn't been so rough. Nonetheless, she climbed back onto her Aerodactyl and brought back her Blaziken.

"What do you say we go visit a casino? They'd be so surprised to see me there,"Cearra giggled as the three of them flew over the Hoenn region. the guards nodded. "Shall we change course for the Fallabor Casino, ma'am?"a guard asked. Cearra nodded. The grunt signaled to the other, and they Aerodactyls tilted slightly, bringing them down to the city. Cearra and her guards walked along a pathway leading up to the brightly lit building that was her casino. It looked like it was in good shape. She took out her notepad and scribbled some notes down before brushing off the ash from her suit and walking inside.

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"Can't fight, game's over, the person you were looking for is me."

Malevolent Tactician

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Ƞɸӽ Ⱥʅϲɦєɾɨ
βɑρϮɨɀєɗ Ъӌ Ϯɦϵ ϝʅαɱϵϛ,
αɲɗ ЪαϮɦєɗ ɨɲ α Ъαsɨɲ ϕϝ Ъlϕϕɗ,
ӌϕʊ ωɨʅʅ ӄɲϕw Ϯɦє pϕwєr ϕϝ ӺȈɌΣ!


ɌΦȼӄεϯ`•.¸¸.••´´¯``•• .¸¸.•´םɸɳ


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He listened as she spoke, processing the attraction she felt for Emilio and the lengths that she would go to simply lay eyes on him, to be near him. Did his brother ever know of her devotion? What was she doing as a Plasma? She could have defected and joined the Rocket Family if she had wanted to. In the end, it probably didn’t matter anyway—especially not now. Then again, maybe it would help if only a little; Nox needed eyes in distant lands, especially in his own family’s state of political turmoil.

What would Archer do? No, what would Emilio do? He wondered.

They walked a moment or so, the pine trees becoming taller and denser as the heart of the cemetery looked very much like its own miniature forest, each step drawing them into the immense foliage. Headstones and monuments lay scattered, warped and broken from the trees that had erupted forth and grown over the past several decades. This was the old portion of the cemetery, where nature reclaimed its hold and prevailed. For Nox, this was always his favorite place to come alone and read--before Emilio’s disappearance, before becoming a high profile Don, and before becoming a target. The manner in which Derek or his subordinates constantly followed continued to serve as a reminder of that. Life had changed, irrevocably so.

At last they came to an old marble monument, towering above the weathered grave stones. The building of old marble was a single storey and not very large at all, yet it led down into the catacombs where pokemon rested eternally. It was evident, by the abundance of moss, vines, and erosion, that this place had not been used in many decades, for the advent of the memorial site in Lavender Town, so many years ago, rendered this mausoleum obsolete.

Nox stopped at the entrance, his back still turned on Kokori.

“Down there, we might find some ghosts as well as the occasional Geodude and Zubat,” he said, offering the woman some insight about the mausoleum. “I hear a rare pokemon lurks in the depths, though I’ve never been successful in finding it or learning what species it is. I come here often, you see. This is my sanctuary.”

After reflecting on this, Nox turned to face the woman from Unova, the woman infatuated with Emilio.

“You asked me if I believe that Emilio is alive,” he began, crossing his arms, “I do. The coffin was empty and a body was never found. It’s as if he vanished into thin air.”

He fell silent, making no expression as the absence of a voice lingered in the still air--smelling richly of pine and decaying foliage.

“I want him back, not just because he is my brother,” Nox trailed off, wondering why he was even sharing with this woman, “I also want things to go back to normal. I was happy before all of this. I just don’t know where to look. With all of this power vacuum nonsense and the fighting in my own family, I don’t have the resources or manpower to mobilize an effective search either.”

The Rocket Don made a sour face at the thought of it all. “It’s vexing, and I’m going to make all of those traitors pay. Not just for their blatant disloyalty, but for also taking my energy away from the search for Emilio.”

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An orange dragon flittered around anxiously as its master stepped towards the edge. There was a small plateau, about five feet in width that made the uppermost ring of a volcano. Alcyone sighed as she cautiously crossed a bit of the circle. Her dragonite mewed unhappily. The Donna glanced at it before sitting down; some of its uneasiness had begun to infect her as well. Sitting, she felt much steadier. Heights usually didn’t bother her and especially this one since she’d been here before. But the funeral had left her weary. The deep blue of her skirt flared in the wind, it made a nice contrast against the brown of the hollowed mountain.

The winged Pokemon perched beside its master, and in a purple glow her slowking released itself. The psychic type hobbled over to its team mate and rummaged in the dragons leather saddle bag before finding a silvery flask. It cantered back and wordlessly handed its owner the container, oval eyes showing deep sympathy. The small statured creature took a seat next to her, legs not long enough to dangle into the dormant edifice, but otherwise mirroring its owner.

Alcyone allowed herself a long and deep swig. This was not the aged wine she was used to. This was not the bottle of cabernet she kept stocked in her office. This was cheap beer. The kind her latest opponent reeked of. She recoiled at the foul taste, one that hadn’t passed her lips in years. Not since Matt. The peak of Sootopolis had been their first official date. It was the Saturday after a particularly grueling test in a class they shared (either Pokemon Lore, or Legends of Legendaries, she could not remember) and they came up here for the evening. They shared a bottle of beer, this very same brand, and fantasized about how different the world would be when the Aqua’s raised Kyogre. That plan crashed around both of them.

Her next visit to this peak was just after their wedding. The first time they had a free Saturday between moving and Matt getting used to his role as Don. This time they had a full picnic, packed by and delivered to them by a Cappo. There were several different bottles of champagne, a cheese tray, and a few bistro type sandwiches. They fantasized about how the Aqua’s would change under his rule, and how that would affect the cities and other families. She saw that dream ripped from both of them by a revolver in the hands of Magma.

Her third trip to the peak was with no one but Pokemon. Her hopes lay only on making it back to the villa and trying to get some sleep. She did not dream about Pokemon of vast power, or of reform. Her eyes stung bitterly. When these memories surfaced they hit hard. The drunk screaming murder rang in her ears and flowed down her cheeks. It was a miracle she made it this far before breaking down. Luckily she had appeared composed to the Don, his assassin, and the late Dons mourners. But Alcyone had enough of mourning a late Don. She had enough of fingers being so freely pointed in the wrong direction. She simply could not take anymore. She openly wept, abandoned on the mountaintop. She didn’t want to be the Donna of a family. She wanted to be the wife of one. “Widow” just would not do anymore. She needed him back. She needed to be in love. Her fanciful imaginings grew dimmer each day without him. Alcyone felt as if she had no identity in his absence.

“To the Aqua’s.” she raised her flask to no one in particular. The original plan was to come here to celebrate her victory over the Magma’s, as this used to be their domain until quite recently. That was before the drunk. “It doesn’t matter either way…” she reasoned with herself. “Murder accusations or not this place holds memories.” She picked up a stone sitting on the ledge next to her and cast it downwards, listening to it hitting the wall. Alcyone ached for Nox. Mourning was hard enough without being suspect.

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Divine Nymph

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Ϻɑxѡϵʃʃ Dɑѡϵs
Breathe and I'll carry you away into the velvet sky
And we'll stir the stars around


xxxxxMaxwell wasn't completely satisfied by the answer given about the sad creatures held captive in those poorly treated pokeballs, but he stayed quiet. The costumed man went down the line of recruits, making short work of most of them. There were questions about rights and wrongs, evaluations of pokemon.... One of the trainers had the most beautiful pidgeotto Maxwell had ever seen, and there were a few pokemon he had not come across before. What worried him was their battling abilities. Some explained incredible strategies, and others demonstrated their pokemon's astounding power. He especially impressed by a wigglytuff's ability to influence the type of move its metronome induced. Maxwell had never been very good at directing his pokemon in battle, and mostly let them fight the way they wanted. That had been good enough for most situations, as the team was allowed plenty of time to hunt and fight outside of the city on their own. As each recruit was redirected to stand by what Maxwell supposed were the Indigo equivalent of Admins, his mind raced a little faster. What would he say to morality questions? How would the others react if he choked on his words?
xxxxx"May I see your pokemon?" The costumed man, who Maxwell decided to think of as Mr. Dialga, stood across from him, imposing and calm. Twilight was approaching, which was nice, as most of his team preferred dark skies. Maxwell swallowed, trying to force his fear down as he pulled five balls out of his bag, one of them a glittering Luxury ball.
xxxxx"You, uh, may want to take a step back," he said quietly. The other recruits all gave him a look that seemed to say Are you f*cking stupid?! He glanced up at Mr. Dialga and took a step backwards himself. "My pokemon are kinda big."
xxxxxFive flashes of light lit up the bridge, and there was a strong gust of wind that sent one captain's hat flying. Corabelle screeched and shot upwards, leaving Ayan to rear up and call after her. Sammy bounced up and down in the air, blinking his tiny eyes at the setting sun, and Xurion spun its back section aggressively, the Luxury ball's glow fading from its aura. Maxwell clicked his tongue and Corabelle landed next to him, chortling her questions about where she was. The other recruits tensed up at the sight of Ayan, who glared around at them. The bridge suddenly seemed crowded. Then she decided they weren't interesting and began to nuzzle Maxwell's hair, her tongue flicking him in the face.
xxxxx"Stop it," he demanded, but she continued bumping against him playfully. "Stop, Ayan, stop! Hey!!" The other trainers were not impressed. Finally, he grabbed her chin and stared her directly in the eyes. "Look sexy for Mr. Dialga."
xxxxxImmediately the large purple creatures straightened themselves and looked straight ahead. Ayan flared her hood, exposing the colorful patterns underneath. Turned out that command hadn't been such a drunken mistake after all. Despite the silliness of the instruction, the other recruits and officers did not look happy. There were two evolved forms of the pokemon most used by Rockets standing right in front of them. Maxwell's head pulsed a bit.
xxxxxA shuffling sound came from his left, and Maxwell saw his dunsparce wiggling across the bridge toward one of the other recruits. The young woman's shoe was untied, and Mr. Muffins was about to wrap his lips around the laces when Maxwell rushed down and grabbed him.
xxxxx"No, Muffins!" He flicked the dunsparce's whiskers, making him flinch and struggle. "Sorry, he thinks shoelaces are worms... Quit it, don't!" The yellow stinger waved around angrily, and there was a thump of Mr. Muffins landing on the bridge again. Instead of going for the shoelaces, though, he began moving towards Mr. Dialga. Maxwell froze, realizing that he was not coming across as a very competent recruit.
xxxxxHe slowly raised his eyes to meet Mr. Dialga's, trepidation pounding in his temple. Maybe now was a good time to jump on Corabelle and fly off into the sunset...


xxxxxxxxxxWe're hanging on so take us high, to sing the world goodbye
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Earnest Paladin

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BLANKSPACEβenjamin Sonezaki
Today's Costume: Dialga


Ben stepped back obligingly, and struggled to keep a straight face as chaos broke out in front of him. Wind ripped at his jacket and hair, but he braced against it. His costume would be safe. After a previous disaster involving the rings of a Cressalia costume and a Gust attack from a soldier's rather large Pidgeot, he'd ensured that all his costumes had everything firmly attached. He took in the Pokemon at a single glance, liking what he saw. They all looked strong and healthy, if not very disciplined, and they very obviously loved their trainer.

Ben muffled a snort of laughter as Maxwell grabbed the Arbok's chin and told it to "look sexy for Mr. Dialga." He tried not to ruin his facade of intimidating Legendary, but the phrase was just so bizarre that it was difficult to keep a stern expression

I'll give him points for recognizing the Pokemon at least.

He was forced to reconsider his first impression that Maxwell's Pokemon weren't very disciplined as the Pokemon all immediately fell into a line and displayed themselves with soldier-like crispness.

Ben noticed as the Dunsparce quickly lost interest and began making its way towards another recruit. One eyebrow quirked up as Maxwell tried to regain control of the odd creature, but failed to subdue the ensuing tantrum. Once the Dunsparce was happily on the bridge again, it began making its way towards Ben. Maxwell froze and tensed up, looking like a Deerling about to make a break for it.

Ben leaned down and picked up the Dunsparce, carefully supporting its belly and gripping its tail above the stinger firmly while leaving its wings free. It was the best way to maintain control of the squashy, flexible Pokemon while making it feel comfortable. It squirmed, but when Ben tucked it under his arm and scratched it between its wings, it made a funny purring noise and relaxed.

"This is how you hold a Dunsparce properly. If you control its tail, you control the rest of it. It also needs to feel safe and supported from below, being burrowing creatures and used to the ground."

He glanced over at the other Pokemon approvingly, still scratching the Dunsparce. While most of the others would no doubt see evolved versions of common Rocket Pokemon, he saw a Zubat raised with kindness and compassion and an Ekans that had been nurtured into a proud and haughty Arbok. The Drifblim floated easily, and Ben saw that it had learned how to control its drifting by using its ribbon-like limbs as sails and rudders. The Starmie was more difficult to read, having a rigid body and no facial expression, but Ben could tell that it was confident and ready to leap into action by how it spun its dorsal star and angled itself so that the jewel reflected back the last rays of the setting sun. Every single one of Maxwell's Pokemon was a study of the kind of relationship every trainer should have with their Pokemon.

It was the Crobat that made up his mind. The way she seemed aware of her trainer's anxiety's and turned her unnerving yellow eyes upon Ben spoke of a deep loyalty. If anyone had offered to bet whether Maxwell had been the one to evolve her, Ben would have staked his position as President of the Indigos that Maxwell had been the one to do so rather than obtaining her post-evolution. He handed the Dunsparce back to Maxwell and gestured.

"You may recall them now. I must give you my compliments on your team. They're all stunning. Join the others, please."

He made eye contact with Stefan and made a small movement with his hand that encompassed Maxwell. It said, "Take this one." He didn't know if this boy was a spy or not, but he knew where best to place him in order to find out. Even if he was a spy, Ben's intuition urged him to take in the boy anyway. Spies from many families had become true Indigos before, after all. The sponsoring captain would not keep this one for his unit.

When the recruits and captains all stood together again, Ben spoke.

"I am President of the Indigo family. You came here orphans. You shall all leave as my children. In return for your undying loyalty and unflinching protection to every member of the Indigo family from myself to the newest soldier, you shall have protection and loyalty from every member of the Indigo family."

He paused and made eye contact with the remaining eight recruits before saying solemnly, "You will each swear an oath to me. Your captains will now instruct you in the words."


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Beloved Foe

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Kokori Sorcral

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Kokori had fallowed still on her toes, walking on egg shells around the demon, keeping a careful eye on both him and Michael. She gazed upon the building in awe, it was a little condemned but it was also gorgeous. Unova did have quite a few cemeteries but they were nothing like this, even the well traveled Plasma hadn't laid eyes on such a site. Nox had stopped and began to speak.

"Down there, we might find some ghosts as well as the occasional Geodude and Zubat, I hear a rare pokemon lurks in the depths, though I’ve never been successful in finding it or learning what species it is. I come here often, you see. This is my sanctuary.”

The woman was intrigued by the mystery the catacombs beneath the mausoleam, and wondered how often Nox did come here, and if he had told anyone. She didn't let this new tone of his fool her, she knew it could be a trap in the back of her mind but, let herself relax as he continued to speak.

"You asked me if I believe that Emilio is alive,” he crossed his arms, “I do. The coffin was empty and a body was never found. It’s as if he vanished into thin air.”

Kokori's suspicions had been confirmed she knew he wasn't in that coffin, they didn't have a viewing, and if he was dead she would have known about it the day he disappeared.

“I want him back, not just because he is my brother,” Nox started showing another side of himself, one Kokori didn't even know he could have. Her face softened listening to his words, he was opening up to her, perhaps he could be trusted.

“I also want things to go back to normal. I was happy before all of this. I just don’t know where to look. With all of this power vacuum nonsense and the fighting in my own family, I don’t have the resources or manpower to mobilize an effective search either.”

She frowned, Emilio had spoken of Nox quite a bit when they got to meet, he spoke highly of him. It seemed as though everything was perfect the way it was, Nox and Emilio both seemed happy with how things were. Kokori believed with all of her heart then that Nox had nothing to do with Emilio's disappearance, he seemed hurt too, even if not for the same reasons. Then the Don's expression turned sour.

“It’s vexing, and I’m going to make all of those traitors pay. Not just for their blatant disloyalty, but for also taking my energy away from the search for Emilio.”

Kokori gave a small gasp, Alcheri was still looking for the man she adored. She looked at her feet fighting tears, Slash cooing softly.

"I know he wasn't in the coffin. . . I was there the day he vanished." Her sadness soon turned to anger. "He was right there, and I lost sight of him. A peace offering, that's what I was to give him. A Feebass egg, one of the rarest eggs of all. The day of the shipment, it was supposed to be an easy mission." her voice calmed as she continued telling her memory as she had gone over it so many times in her mind.

"I was waiting for the right time to talk to him, I knew he didn't like being interrupted during business. I had my eye on him but it was that damned grunt! And that wretched girl!" The plasma growled. "That rocket grunt sniffed me out, I could have shot him, right when he tried to best me, but I didn't, I was too loyal for that." She turned away knowing the tears would come soon, her voice getting more and more livid with each word.

"Then that little girl came busting in, trying to hijack your eggs, I tried to save them, thought I might impress him or something stupid. . . Anything for his attention." She paused biting her lip, her words turning soft. "But, when I got back, he was nowhere to be found. No one had seen him, or heard from him. I looked all afternoon, the entire night into the morning, but nothing. He was gone, no blood, no body, no nothing." The plasma sniffled pulling herself together.

"If the Indigos had him they would have made it public by now." Kokori mumbled trying to make sense of it all. She turned back to Nox wanting to say more, but couldn't, her throat was too tight trying to keep back tears.

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Ursine Warlord

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Sigurd Schwertwulf
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"Well, that's unfortunate."

"What is?" Jessica had returned noiselessly, a glass of ice water in each hand. She set one on the desk near the computer mouse as she peered over her husband's shoulder. He took of the simple, cold beverage and brushed his lips against her cheek. She smiled playfully as she pulled her head away from his chilly lips. Sigurd smiled warmly in response, both basking in the afterglow. They'd been married some twenty years, but both agreed that they still 'had it'. Mrs. Schwertwulf gestured to the screen with her free hand.

"What's going on?"

"Well honey, it would appear that the Donna of the Aqua family showed up at Don Alcheri's funeral. So did Kokori from Plasma, but rumor is that she's lost influence."

"And? The lesser gangs are always planting their lips firmly to the Rockets' collective a**." Sigurd chuckled at that. Jessica had always been more inclined to etiquette and politeness, but she occasionally slipped and let used some of his crude language.

"True, but Donna Capone took up arms in the middle of Emilio's funeral," he picked up his glass and wandered out of the bedroom. The hall opened up into a balcony overlooking their foyer. Outside the grand windows the sun was setting over the trees, sending emerald rays dancing through the leaves. He paused for a moment to admire the view. Their home was remote, and commuting was troublesome. It was a fair trade, though, for the privacy and comfort the four-bedroom mansion afforded. In this place, he truly felt like a king, the kind of life he had once imagined life as a Rocket would win him. Funny that I should fund it working against them, he thought, quietly walking through his little castle.

He found himself seated in the living room taking apart the ball-and-stick set before him. His wife had bought it to help explain her work to him. Red is oxygen, blue is hydrogen. One red oxygen holds two blue hydrogen to become water. They still had quite a way to go before he could understand her dissertation comparing the effects of rare candies versus that of natural daily exercise on a molecular level. He raised a black sphere.

"What was this one again?

"Carbon, love."

"Thanks," he began arranging the objects. In his mind it wasn't an educational aid, but a physical representation of his thoughts.

"The Rockets are the big players, the Tauros in the pokemart, so to speak. The Plasma, Magma, and Aqua teams are all vying for their favor. Team Galactic has been maimed and is dying." Three red balls were attached to the larger black one. He sent a fourth rolling off the table. In his hand was a blue sphere now, and he was tapping against the mahogany table as he thought. "Then there's a certain naive bunch of lovable ruffians. Blow for blow, the Indigos can probably take down any of the lesser families, but with team Rocket as powerful as they are now, the kids need to stick to their low-key ops and surgical guerrilla raids."

"What about the police?"

"What about them?" Sigurd scoffed. "The law has half as many men as it should, and half the men it does have are corrupt. They're an asset for the Indigo family, sure, but less and less good men are willing to step up, don the badge, and play the game if Team Rocket is stacking the deck." He gulped down the last of his glass and crushed an ice cube between his teeth as he considered his creation. "What's that called?"

"Well, technically carbon trioxide. Not exactly common though, its highly unstable and normally quickly decays to monoxide or dioxide," she offered as she plucked up his glass to get more water for the both of them. He chuckled softly.

"Well, that's it then, isn't it?" Not enough space for all of them, and Magma and Aqua are each other's greatest enemies. Team Rocket can't keep them both because they can't mix. Its like aluminum and bleach."

"Ammonia."

"Aluminum and ammonia," he continued as he took the newly refilled glass. "One has to go. Let us consider Capone's power play at the funeral. She drew for battle on Rocket turf, which could be seen as a sign of disrespect, a lack of reverence if you will. Its likely to even ruffle some feathers that she felt the need to step in in a situation where the Rockets had complete control, as if they couldn't handle it."

"Couldn't they be grateful that she spared them the effort?"

"I suppose. If she does manage to get cozy with the Rockets, though, it will mean Team Magma will be sleeping on the floor. A shame their rather questionable morals would keep the Indigos from working with them." He now held the red sphere in his hand to match the blue in the other, contemplating them, considering their fate. "They might not have much time before they go Galactic."

"Could they be convinced to reform?"

"They're a bunch of zealots. Almost as bad as the Plasmas. No one's ever been able to change them." Jessica slid her arms over his shoulders, letting their bare skin touch once again.

"No one's ever been you, Mr. Gible."

He let that sit for a moment, setting the plastic orbs down with a soft 'clack' and watching them roll along the wooden tabletop until they were stopped by the lip of the surface. He raised his arm to run his fingers through her hair before ruffling it, to her chagrin. Then he unwrapped himself from her, standing up and moving over to the wall where an old-fashioned landline phone was mounted. He swiftly punched in the digits for his main office, then the extension for his secretary.

"Hi Gloria. . . yeah, it went well. . . . Listen, I need you to contact one Miss Cearra Petra Park. Tell her Sigurd Schwertwulf would like to speak to her when convenient, or a representative who can adequately convey her . . . special interests. Give them my mobile number as well, if they need it. . . what for? . . . Oh, well. You know. . . balancing books and such."

He placed the phone back in its bracket and smoothed his hair back. He was a man who never assumed his secrets were safe, and he suspected the Magma Donna had an idea of his affiliations. Were that the case, he could very well had laid a trap for himself. He had never spilled any Magma blood, though, and he was hardly a lynchpin for the Indigo organization. Perhaps they could be civil. Forcing a smile, he turned to Jessica.

"Well, let's get ourselves dressed. I was thinking dinner at the Flamethrower and some shopping downtown? I promised you a night out, after all."

░░▒▒▓▓The more laws, the less justice.▓▓▒▒░░

Ursine Warlord

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Stefan Schwertwulf
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"Congratulations, Mr. Dawes. You've passed the first test. You care for your companions."

Stefan knew what had won Ben over. Crobats didn't evolve for most Rockets. They were the diamond in the rough, one of a handful of species that only evolved when cared for properly. The kind of person that could evolve a golbat into a crobat wouldn't trade one away. He was more partial to the arbok. Its eyes were bright, its coloring vivid. Underneath its scales, it moved with slow certainty, its healthy musculature a testament to its vigor. Stefan beckoned Max over as he recalled Solara into her pokeball.

"When you speak to our leader, the most polite choice is 'President Sonezaki.' Unlike the mob bosses, our president won our loyalty through love and friendship, not through fear. If you disrespect or raise a hand to him, everybody on this bridge will strike you down. Just a friendly heads up." He doubted Maxwell would try anything stupid. Stefan had the feeling he was a bit clumsy, and a little goofy for a young man who was volunteering to be the enemy of the most dangerous mob out there. But stupid? No. Stefan paused for a moment as he considered what Max's oath should entail. A reference to Johto would probably amuse the pokemaniac, but this was a solemn occasion.

"You will repeat after me. I'll keep it short so you can relay it to the President." So he began, pausing after every sentence to allow Max a chance to process it. It sounded a little archaic and clumsy, but he could hardly change the oath after he taught it.

"I, Maxwell Dawes, would join the Indigo Family. Life, of both pokemon and human, is of the greatest value. I seek to protect those lives, and would work with other like-minded men and women to fight organized crime and injustice. Therefore, I hereby pledge my mind, my strength, my pokemon, and my loyalty to the Indigo Family and President Sonezaki. May the Original One bring its Judgement to me if I speak falsely here."

"Yeah, that should work." Stefan glanced west. The sun was starting its descent, but it would be some time before dusk. His attention turned back to Max. "Any questions before your turn?"



░░▒▒▓▓To the last, I grapple with thee
from Hell's heart, I stab at thee
for hate's sake, I spit my last breath at thee.▓▓▒▒░░
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"I will confront and fight for the souls in this street, the starting point of a new revolution."
Cearra Petra Park

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"Thank you!" Cearra said with a grin. She had been shown to a mahogany table, neatly made up with a menu and three wine glasses. Cearra had ordered her lemonade and opened her notepad. Though she was writing, she wasn't entirely focused on her work. After a lot of fidgeting and blinking, she allowed herself to drift off into thought.


She thought of the day she overthrew her father. It was a pretty easy task, seeing as he had very few followers, and he was a weak, foolish man. She thought of her Magmortar, a little Magmar at the time, pointing its hand at her father, threatening a hyper beam, and the many Numels and Nosepasses backing her up. Cearra closed her eyes and sighed. Ever since that time, she had been extremely paranoid. Paranoid that her father would find her, paranoid that the Magmas would be taken over, and paranoid that she would lose her pokemon.

She also thought of the day the Aqua Don had been assassinated. The party that was thrown was indescribable. So much money was spent on the festivities, and for what? Cearra hadn't been in control at the time, but if she had been… Things may have been different. She hated the Aquas, that much was clear, but to murder the Don was just something that was too intense too quick. She had been standing in a corner of the room with her father in it. She remembered him walking over to her, yelling through the noise for her to join in the festivities. "Cearra, come on!" he would yell."Cearra! CEARRA!" She was shaken out of her thoughts as one of her grunts nearly screamed her name. "I apologize, I was lost in thought. Cearra said, bowing her head. The guards looked surprised. The Donna was rarely this submissive. Ma'am, you seem to be getting a call," A grunt pointed out gently. Cearra looked down at her phone; it was her secretary. She waved her hand to her guards to signal for them to pay as she walked out of the casino, phone in hand.

"Hello?"
"Yes, ma'am, this is your secretary. I have just received a call from Sigurd's office, he would like to talk to you at your earliest convenience."
Cearra blinked, not remembering who Sigurd was for a moment. Her eyes widened when she did remember. Her heart began to beat a little faster. What did he want with her?
"Are you there, ma'am?"
"I am. How can I contact him?"
"He left his mobile number, the office said you're free to call,"
"Thanks,"
Cearra stated, hanging up on the woman. Normally she would've been a bit more courteous, but she knew she would rather talk to him now than later. She took a deep breath before punching his number into her phone. She cautiously held it up to her face, walking around to the back of the casino where she wouldn't be overheard. She listened to the ringer until her call was answered.


"Hello, Sigurd."

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"Can't fight, game's over, the person you were looking for is me."

Ursine Warlord

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Sigurd Schwertwulf
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Sigurd had his back to the show, but he could still feel it. The woman on stage with platinum hair was dressed in reds and oranges, and he had noted how well it accentuated her long legs when they came in. She was certainly easy enough to look at at first, but once the pyrotechnics accompanying her dance began, he quietly asked Jessica to trade seats with him. He knew she wasn't a real fire pokemon, but it still made it a little difficult for him to enjoy his Oldale-style steak. Jessica, for her part, was entranced with the show over his shoulder. It was enough for him to take a little enjoyment out of, the fact that she was happy.

He had finished his steak and bourbon a few moments before there was a collective gasp and cheer from the show as the performer treated the packed restaurant to one final feat of grace and fire. As the fires faded away and the house lights rose, Jessica leaned forward and grasped his hand.

"I love it here, Sigurd. Thanks for taking me." He smiled weakly in response. "We can go now if you'd like, I don't have room enough for desert."

"As long as you don't mind."

After the few minutes it took the waiter to charge his card, the two were on their way. The relatively cool air outside was a welcome relief and he breathed deep as he straightened his favorite jet-black jacket, adjusting the snaps and collar to allow a hint of his white button-up shirt to emerge and let the wind brush his neck down to the top of his breastbone. They began their way down the street before Jessica paused in front of a jewelry store. She only rarely bought jewelry, and Sigurd was going to comment on that when he felt his phone vibrate in his breast pocket.

"Go on in, I'm getting a call." Jessica nodded her understanding and disappeared through the inviting glass doors into the red-carpeted shop beyond. Taking a seat at a bench nearby, he flipped open the phone and put it to his ear. He hadn't recognized the number, but he knew the voice well enough. He had heard it in recordings, both audio and video. Never from when she was a Donna, she was too careful for that, but her father before her had been a little sloppy. How funny that Daddy's little princess is one of the more experienced, elder bosses now.

"Hello, Mrs. Park. I'm honored to get such a swift response, and I will be somewhat frank. I have some information regarding the actions of your primary competitor. As many of your employees have accounts with the Hoenn National Bank, of which I have some shares in, I thought a discussion about your financial well-being might be wise. I don't mind speaking over the phone, but a meeting with you or a representative might be preferable."

░░▒▒▓▓The more laws, the less justice.▓▓▒▒░░

Malevolent Tactician

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Ƞɸӽ Ⱥʅϲɦєɾɨ
βɑρϮɨɀєɗ Ъӌ Ϯɦϵ ϝʅαɱϵϛ,
αɲɗ ЪαϮɦєɗ ɨɲ α Ъαsɨɲ ϕϝ Ъlϕϕɗ,
ӌϕʊ ωɨʅʅ ӄɲϕw Ϯɦє pϕwєr ϕϝ ӺȈɌΣ!


ɌΦȼӄεϯ`•.¸¸.••´´¯``•• .¸¸.•´םɸɳ


╔══════════════╗

As Kokori recalled the events of a week ago, that fateful day, Nox began to look through her as the venue of the old Viridian Cemetery melted away. Now, drawn into his reverie, he stood within the ruined passenger car at the Mossdeep City Terminal. He knew exactly where he was when all of the chaos unfurled, he was entangled in a battle with the infamous Kaiser—the vice president of the Indigo Family. Yes, marred by the flames and force of two colliding powers, the grisly apparition of a once luxurious train car was all that remained, charred and warped beyond its original shape.

Suddenly, out of thin air, as though he looked deeply into a mirror, he saw himself standing before him, eyes crazed with desperation and fury as his doppelganger’s eyes rested upon a bloody and battered Barghest, crumpled limply upon the floor while the visage of Stefan smiled haughtily behind his large and menacing beast of blue. He wanted to cry out to his wounded pokemon while the other Nox clutched at his hair with his right hand and cried inaudibly with rage, looking as though he’d begin to tear it from his scalp. He remembered this, the sight of Barghest upon death’s door, the violent maiming of his most faithful companion. Though Barghest had since made a full recovery, Nox, in that moment, remembered the fear that Barghest would perish as a result. The pokemon had been with him since childhood, when he was nothing but a frail Houndour pup, the runt out of all the hatchlings.

It wasn’t losing the fight that made him feel so furious, so helpless, and so desperate. No, it was something else entirely; it was the fear of losing his only friend. In the mute expanse, the firing of the gun boomed throughout like thunder, nearly stopping his heart, startling him as he now stood a spectator. He remembered this well, the act, the declaration of war upon Stefan Schwertwulf, the ultimate taboo among trainers, the act of retaliation as he feared the demise of something dear to him. The Feraligatr staggered backwards, stunned by the bullet that pierced its heart, before lumbering a few steps forward and collapsing onto its stomach to breathe one final breath. An eye for an eye, one for one, the Indigo’s companion was dead. Yet, now, as he stood here, he knew that his companion had survived the ordeal. There was no reckoning, no getting even. He took the life of that pokemon and now Stefan wanted revenge, he had made an eternal enemy that day. Stefan's change in countenance haunted him.

Their fight would come, eventually. Only one would walk away, Nox knew it, and Stefan knew it, too.

He then found himself standing back in the cemetery, facing Kokori—hearing her while not hearing her. She had walked tirelessly, searching for his brother, until the sun came up the next morning. By Emilio’s disappearance, the woman from Unova was devastated. His brother, their common thread, that which would draw them together as allies.

The onset of twilight broke over the pines like fire in the sky, night was coming soon.

“Thank you for what you've done,” said Nox, advancing forward and walking past her. “Please come with me to the manor, I would like to discuss business with you. I think I can trust you. The car is likely waiting by the cathedral.”

╚══════════════╝

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Beloved Foe

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Kokori Sorcral

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A small smile formed on her lips when Nox thanked her, and a little flabbergasted when he admitted he thought he could trust her, she was sure that was something Nox hardly said. She made a note to herself she wouldn't break that trust. When he began to walk away she returned Slash to his pokeball, sure he was in need of some rest. The woman walked along side him clipping the pokeball to her belt.

That always felt safer, most woman kept their pokemon in their purses, Kokori found it stupid and careless. On her belt they were always close, warm, and safe. Kokori cared more about her pokemon than she did people, Emilio came close but if it were him or her pokemon on the line she'd save her companions in a heartbeat. And as she thought about it, she realized that Emilio didn't seemed phased by her, ever. He entertained her antics but never encouraged them, in the end, she realized that's all she really wanted from him, why she cared so much.

"You're welcome. . ." she whispered "I have to tell you, I don't think your brother really cared about anything I did for him or the rockets. I always wanted him to see me as his equal, seems as though my efforts disappeared along with him." It was a somber tone that escaped her lips, somehow she felt like she should make Nox aware that maybe she wasn't the greatest ally to have.

"I wonder where he could be, if he knew the distress this has caused people, would he care? Maybe for you, but it'd probably end there. Somehow, I don't care, how he feels. I still care about him." Kokori was whispering, just so Nox could listen if he really wanted to. The woman couldn't help but wonder why she was thinking outloud, also wondering what kind of business he wanted to talk about, did he want her to look for Emilio?

It wasn't long before the reached the car, that was swarmed with bodyguards that made her uneasy but she kept her chin high now. Michael opened the door.

"I was demoted for suspicion of doing dirt with the rockets, If I'm doing the time I should do the crime." a wicked smile formed on her lips, before she stepped into the car.

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