[X] My Assistant

[Master Houndoom]

Olivia regarded the young man with a critical eye, careful to keep the look of worry on her face. He seemed skeptical, wary, yet remained polite. In short, he was behaving as a competent guard. Competence was something she was currently sorely missing, though, in truth, Casper (Ghost, she corrected herself) had yet to show incompetence so much as general laziness and disrespect.

But now was not the time to allow herself distraction, merely because someone on this mission was acting competently (and, to be fair to Mr. Weard, she did not assess her own performance as competence. Her reasons for incompetence were possibly more forgivable, but she had no delusions that her very first mission in the field - the only one, if she had her druthers - was being handled well). Instead, she looked him in the eye, allowing her new worry, that this plan wouldn't work and that her pokémon would be hurt (and, of course, Strings) to etch on her face. She adopted a lilting accent, one she had heard while indulging Nyx in watching the Rattata Detective, belonging to a little cinccinno named, ironically enough, Olivia. The accent was light, but helped her focus on not being herself, which, she felt at this point, was crucial. She held up the ad for the acting school, hoping against hope that she wasn't over exaggerating. She had acted, yes, but on stage, and that required much grander gestures and inflections.

"I do beg your pardon, sir," she said, looking at the paper, "but I seem to be lost. I received an invitation to audition for a place in the next enrollment for the Kanjohosinun Performing Arts Academy, but I haven't been able to make heads nor tails of this city."

*~*~*~*~*~*

Isra wanted to fume, very badly. It was one thing to finally get to stretch her legs. It was another to get to play hiding and whispering games with Nyx to help their Olivia. It was quite another to be told to tolerate that... that... napkin-puppet!

At first, she would admit, the thing amused her. She had caught sight of him braiding her Olivia's hair, even though he'd been invisible. The only other one in the room who might have been capable of seeing it, her Nyx, had as well, but not even their Olivia was able to feel the clumsy ministrations of the little ghost. Isra had been impressed. Her Nyx had decided to leave well enough alone, and Olivia... well, Olivia had treated the little one with kindness.

That was his first mistake. Isra hadn't liked that. It was her Olivia, and her Nyx's Olivia, and that little upstart was not theirs nor was Olivia his. So to get their Olivia to smile at him and call him a great sneak... well, it was obvious what would have to happen now.

He would have to die.

The next mistake was more of a general flaw. He was loud. Not loud like her Olivia was loud. That was normal for a human. No, he was distractingly loud, with his giggles and his squeaks and his throwing things through perfectly finctional windows while very pretty pokémon were making sure they still looked good.

Yet her Nyx, always too sweet, simply gave him a look and moved in. Isra would have a talk with the Cacklebutt (for that was now his name, by Isra's command) later, with her claws, and he would have a reason to be loud.

So now, her Nyx had said they should split up, and while Isra didn't think Cacklebutt should be alone with... at all, come to think of it, she followed her Nyx' advice and started looking around. She saw flashy-machines like the one on her Olivia's desk, and though that it might be what she was looking for. But the flashy-machine was much more flashy than usual right now. She'd seen this kind of flashy before, and noted that when it happened, her Olivia would sigh, stand up, stretch, and go get a cup of coffee.

Computer. That was the word for the flashy-machine. Isra liked computers. Laying near them was warm.

Isra was down near where the computer's tail went into the wall when she smelled them. Her eyes narrowed. She knew that smell. There wasn't a bad or good connotation to that smell; The ones who belonged to that smell were good enough, but the ones she had met would not have been welcomed by her Olivia: They were too noisy and mischievous.

Litwick.

Litwick tended to gather around fires, but it was cold up here. That and the tiniest scent of smoke meant one thing to Isra. She would have to tell her Nyx, who could then tell their Olivia. And it would have to happen fast!

And if she saw Cacklebutt, she'd warn him, too. Yes, he had to die, but he didn't have to die like that!

*~*~*~*~*~*

"Where I work? Goodness me, do I look that much a fright?" she looked down at herself, holding her hands at her sides. Her jaw worked while her relatively short hair was still hiding it. He'd spotted something he didn't like, and thought she didn't catch it, it had something to do with her clothing. What was wrong with her clothing? Ought she have worn the cape..?

"Well, one must dress nicely when one is auditioning, of course," she said demurely, looking up at him through her bangs. "And I thought, just in case, I might look for a job." She blinked. "You do know how to get to the Academy, don't you?"

In a way, this was good, that he was asking questions. She could act as if she were the one trying to get away, and if he continued to be suspicious, he would be doing her job for her. Still, perhaps one more stall... it might even make him more suspicious. "If not, might I use your phone? I'd like to at least let them know I could be late..."

She did cast a wary glance at his on edge pokemon, but did her best not to linger her gaze on them. If all went well, she wouldn't need to worry about their strengths and weaknesses... a battle was not what she was after.

[Umbrae Calamitas]

A battle was what Casper was after.

When around other people, Casper did his very best to ascertain that he did not appear to be concerned with anything - well, anything of importance to other people, that is. Of course, he would be concerned with how his hair looked (must Strings always mess it up?), and he would be concerned with making sure he winked at all the ladies and had all of their attention. There was a reason to that, though, and it was important that he make an impression on them most of all, and then everyone else.

But to other people, it was necessary that Casper not appear frazzled or concerned about anything that was not trivial by definition. Let it be known to all, however, that dealing with an emotionless partner was a trial that tested the patience of the greatest saints. Acting unconcerned and bored in her presence left him as frustrated as a declawed cat in a mouse-infested shack.

So, frustrated and ticked off and bored, Casper was itching for a battle. He fingered Hamlet's pokeball in his pocket and narrowed his eyes at the ledge of the building, over which he could barely hear Olivia speaking.

"Μισώ να περιμένει."*

~*~

Strings was the sneakiest sneaker that had ever sneakily sneaked. He knew this was positively, absolutely, perfectly, and resolutely true, because he was Strings, and he said so.

He said so sneakily.

The-fox-that-could-disappear had said that they should split up, and the not-so-nice-kitty had looked unhappy about it, but had split up. Strings, the sneaktastic sneakiest sneaker that had ever sneakily sneaked, had looked perfectly fantastically fantastic about it, and had disappeared. But he hadn't split up, oh no. He was sneakily invisible and following the-fox-that-could-disappear, sneakily, because that was what Ghost would want.

Ghost liked to know what was going on, and he wouldn't like it if Strings let both of the pretty-girl's pokemon disappear and go do who-knows-what and how. And since not-so-nice-kitty didn't like Strings, and Strings was maybejustalittle afraid of not-so-nice-kitty, Strings would follow the-fox-that-could-disappear, sneakily and invisibly, and no one would be the wiser.

Except for Strings, because he said so.

He said so wisely.

Oh, he was the wisest of the wise wisers who ever wizzed...

Strings stopped following the-fox-that-could-disappear, and floated in the air for a moment, thinking about that. Had he ever wizzed? Strings screwed up his face until his eyeballs puffed out so far they became visible - floating puffy giant orbs in midair - and he decided that, no, he had never wizzed. He was, after all, a ghost pokemon, and ghost pokemon were above such things.

Oozing, however, was a different story. Strings was the ooziest oozer who had ever--

The shuppet paused in his consideration of what an incredible oozer he was, in favor of trying to find out what had happened to the-fox-that-could-disappear, who he was following.

Apparently, she had disappeared, and that was not good at all, because Strings was supposed to be following her...

And since the-fox-that-could-disappear could disappear, it might be better if he go looking for someone that he could find.

That in mind, the shuppet spun around in midair, stirring up a draft, and then darted in the opposite direction. After a few feet, he remembered to unscrew his face, and his puffed-out-eyeballs retracted with an exaggerated slurping-squishing sound, and became invisible again.

He was going to find the not-so-nice-kitty, and he wasn't going to be afraid of her, because he was going to be sneakysneakysneaky like a sneaky little sneaker sneaking sneakily, and the not-so-nice-kitty would never know he was there.

But just in case he wasn't sneaky enough...

"Dun dun dun duuuun dun.... dun dun dun duuuuun..."*

[PinkiePie]

Sneasel peered around the side of a large, snow-covered box to see if the anomaly was visible yet. So far, every noise, every obscure detail gone awry, had revealed nothing. For all it was worth, he hoped someone chucked a rock inside and that was it. But he knew, somewhere inside his cold, merciless heart, that Vincent would want him to check for intruders, in order to protect Snorunt. His master's attraction to the child yielded no favoritism, and for that reason alone was Sneasel compelled to keep searching; because he knew his actions, or Snorunt's, would not make his master love either of them any less. Or more.

Another search turned up similar results to the last: nothing. No footprints, no smells. If there were intruders, they were very well camouflaged by the sight of endless snow and the faint smell of smoke.

Smoke?

"Snorunt!" Sneasel cried. The sound reverberated throughout the warehouse, and when no reply came, Sneasel nearly panicked. Should he go back? Should he locate the source of the smoke; or perhaps alert Vincent?

All three seemed good.

So he bounded into the snow, uncaring for his own safety, trying to locate the source of the smell. It was strongest, ironically, below the shattered window on the far wall. There, beside a small, rapidly growing light, was a pack of ghosts that resembled candles. Sneasel had never encountered them before. But at least he knew of their presence. Now he had to retrieve Snorunt, whose location was still up in the air.

"Hey, Snorunt!" he called again.

"Here I am," chimed Snorunt from the nearby snow fort. Sneasel took three strides toward it before Snorunt tripped over the side of the wall. Unhurt but obviously flustered, the little guy kept beckoning his friend. Sneasel picked up the child and started toward the door. "Sneasel, we're not alone in here!"

"I know! Hush, child, so I can think."

The door was massive, and the lock was just out of Sneasel's reach. He also doubted that, if he screamed, his master would be able to hear him. There had to be another way to beckon Vincent. It was about that time he remembered the ghosts. The flames on their head meant they were fire types, and thus could use fire attacks, however rudimentary. So he set Snorunt down and pushed the stack of boxes obscuring his line of sight to the candles aside.

"Hey. You there." One of the candles turned to face him. "Stupid matchstick. Bet you can't hit me."

Infuriated but unprovoked, the candle simmered in place. Sneasel made a face at it, and it still persisted pacifism. Finally, in a last ditch effort to spark a fight, he glided forward and threw a Faint Attack at it. The little ghost collided with the wall behind him, starting a small patch of real fire on the wall, one that flickered out in the cold. Now it was a battle. Each of the of the candles launched a Will-o-wisp attack at Sneasel, who picked a box filled with computer pieces up from beside him, conveniently placed as it was, and shielded himself. The box quickly caught flame.

Perfect, he thought. He chucked it as hard as he could out the window adjacent to the door. Problem solved.

Except now there was a raging band of fiery ghosts trying to kill him. And Snorunt, but that wasn't as important.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-

Vincent shrugged.

"I actually don't come into town often. My wife could probably tell you how to get there, if she were here." Too bad she isn't, he thought. I could use her help. "You can use my phone, of course. I don't mind at all."

As he reached for his phone, a flaming cardboard box smashed through the window of the building behind him. Aerodactyl jumped up at the sight; Shellder watched with mild disinterest. Vincent had his hands over his head before the box had even hit the ground.

"Ah!" he cried. "Shellder, put that out!"

Shellder launched a Tackle into the box that sent it straight into the nearby river. Vincent was so startled that it didn't occur to him to check inside the warehouse door for a few moments. When he did, he witnessed a full-on battle raging in one corner between Sneasel and some....candlesticks? Snorunt was sitting, crying, beside the door. He immediately picked up his pokemon and began fondling him, trying to calm him down.

"Miss...I never did catch your name. Please excuse me, this warehouse is on fire. And, more importantly, my pokemon need help." Then he slammed the door shut behind him. One way or another, he was leaving with his pokemon at his side.

[Master Houndoom]

Olivia clenched her teeth as the young man left. She had gathered no information, but that was no longer her primary concern. When the box had come crashing out of the building, Olivia had taken a step back, her eyes narrowing. The young man then dismissed himself, and, understandably, her, to take care of the problem.

The mission had suddenly become unimportant. The building was now compromised, but that, too, was the least of her worries. Her mind turned to two things: She had no idea where her partner was, and, worse, she had no idea where her pokémon were.

This was bad.

As soon as the man was out of sight, Olivia turned and hurried toward the alley. She had not thought to get any kind of special communication device, and was berating herself even as she pulled out her phone. Connecting to the internet was simple on a smart phone these days, and using that she called up the secret Virtual Private Networking tunnel to get into the network at her office. She had practiced doing this when it had been told to her, reasoning that she had been told how to do so for a reason, and now it was paying off.

In the network, she called up the directory for her section and found the cell phone information for Casper. She saved the number to a note program on the phone, closed the connection to the Rebel network, and pressed the number in as she rounded the alley corner.

She was brought short as the phone rang. There was a broken window, with a piece of machinery dangling out by virtue of some still-connected cabling. She very nearly cursed Ghost for a fool, until she realized that it was broken outward. Through the window she could see ice, even what looked like snow, confirming their observations from before.

They had been expected, and that, too, was bad.

Her jaw clenched and unclenched slowly as she waited for the other side to pick up.

~*-*-*-*-*~

Nyx could smell it in earnest now. Smoke, and a sweet, paraffin-like smell... That could only mean one thing.

Litwick, came the purring voice of her sister-kin, stepping from the shadows. And fire, Isra added, sitting down to lick her paw, as calmly as ever.

Nyx was not fooled, of course. She knew her sister-kin too well to be fooled by such a display. Her hackles were raised slightly, and her tail, with the scythe-like fur on the end bristling and making it look wider, whipped back and forth in an agitated manner.

Mother-kin will be worried, Nyx nodded. We have to go to her. Isra, please collect the Little One and let us find Mother-kin.

Isra's eyelids drooped, giving her eyes a hooded appearance. This was a sure sign that she was not happy... or that she was tired... or that she was Isra. Nyx knew which this was this time. The Cacklebutt can find his own way out, she said, rising and flicking her tail scythe as if it were an actual weapon.

Nyx sat, and sighed. Sister-kin... she implored. Mother-kin would not be happy if the Little One was hurt.

Isra, who's back had been to the zorua, flinched and looked back over her shoulder. Fine, she spat, with no venom behind it. For you, my Nyx. Only for you.

Nyx smiled her zorua smile at the purrloin and watched her go, hearing her quiet grumbles as she left. Then she turned, and found that, as quietly as only a ghost can, she had been surrounded by litwick as she watched her sister-kin go.

Well, fine, she thought. I could use a little work out.

~*-*-*-*-*~

Isra's grumbles ran through her like a physical force. Why did her Nyx have to be so soft at the wrongest times?! The Cacklebutt was LOUD! And NOISY! And LOOOUD!

He was trying to steal their Olivia away..!

Well, that wasn't going to happen. Not if Isra had anything to say about--

A hiss warned her before the attack struck, allowing her to leap out of the way. She flipped around, whapping what attacked her in the nose with her scythe tail, wishing, once again, that the scythe part were actually dangerous. In this case, however, it may have been good, for once, that it wasn't. The attacker sneezed and batted at it with claws fully extended, but they passed harmlessly through fur.

Isra raised her hackles as she turned, spitting a warning. Stay back! Before her, circling now in the same direction as she, was a lighter purple cat with white on its belly and around its eyes at an angle. It was skinny, too skinny, it seemed. She could see its ribs behind the lavender coat. Its tail rose up in a spiral, but whipped back and forth, uncoiling and coiling again as it reached either side. Its eyes hooded, much like Isra's did when she was angry... or tired... (Shut up, Nyx, she thought at the last part), and it spoke. It's voice was surprisingly deep for such a thin species. Give me your food, it (he) snarled. Isra sat and began licking her paw.

Rude much, she sneered. I don't have any food. You'll have to look elsewhere.

The other feline sat, as well, mimicking her, but not out of spite. He was meticulous, concentrating on a particular claw. I don't believe you.

Believe it or not, it's true, and you'll get nothing. We can fight it out, or you can go elsewhere. There's litwick around, so you might want to make your choice quick.

What are litwick, he asked, his ears twitching in curiosity. Are they food?

That was funny, and she looked again at the purrloin-that-wasn't-a-purrloin. He wasn't bad looking, if he'd eat. Which, it seemed, was a problem. No, she said with a snort of laughter. Empty calories at best. And spicy. She winked at him.

He hooded his eyes more, then rose, preparing to leap again. If I win, I get food. Even if it's you!

Isra rose again, flicking out her claws. You're welcome to try to take a bite out of me.

He leapt, and she did as well, meeting him in the air. She scored a scratch on his flank, but was surprised when she felt a tearing on her opposite shoulder. They landed and spun, facing each other again.

Isra liked this one. He was a scrapper.

I don't have time to play, you know, she said with a low purr. He twitched his tail and licked his nose in annoyance. The next one will actually hurt.

His eyes widened, briefly, but he hunched lower. It's good to know when you're about to experience pain. I commend you on facing it so bravely.

She gave a purring chuckle. Please, she said with a whisk of her tail. You're going to run away now.

And what makes you think so?

Because there's a fire, and no time to fight and live at the same time.

He looked behind him, where a door was smoldering. Looking back at her with an uncoiling flick of his tail, he snorted. Another time, then, gorgeous.

She sighed, content. She wasn't the only one. Do you have a trainer?

Do I look like I have a trainer, he hissed, but she did nothing, not even fold her ears.

I've seen trained pokémon who look worse than you. I didn't ask if you had a good trainer, like I do.

He looked away, but didn't leave. Not yet. She tilted her head, then sighed, shaking it at her own silliness.

Follow us when we leave. I'll let you see me. My Olivia and My Nyx will go underground with a jerk and a Cacklebutt. Wait there, and I will bring you food.

Why should I trust you?

What other offers have you had? At least this way you might find a new hunting ground.

He could not argue with her, though he wanted to, and nodded. With a turn that was as fluid as her Nyx' illusion-changing, he darted out of the room. His words hung in the air behind him. Don't die. I'm hungry.

She had to laugh at that.

~*-*-*-*-*~

Nyx knew she didn't have a lot of time, so she pulled a trick. She liked her tricks. They saved time, or made Mother-kin happy.

As the litwick spun around her, she ducked her head, then, slowly, grew, changing color and shape. Or at least appeared to. Her form shifted, growing tall, tapering at the head and growing long arms with claws. Two wicked blades grew from her mouth, which was elongating, widening, and the bone blades grew back along her jaw line. Large, heavy feet stomped out. She faced them all, the form of the largest, scariest pokémon she'd ever seen, a haxxorus.

One of the litwick moved forward, unafraid, and Nyx' heart sank. It giggled, and, at almost the same time, the rest of the pack did as well. Nyx blinked. They had hive-minded. Nyx had seen it before, in the breeding farm. It happened naturally with bugs, but psychics and ghosts sometimes did it, too, to deal with the stress of living in too close quarters.

She counted. There were ten of them that she could see, and she was fairly sure that, while they weren't the only ones in the litwick swarm, they were the only ones threatening her. The rest would be elsewhere, enjoying the fire and spreading more.

Would the rest come after her if she managed to defeat these ten? It didn't matter. She had to, if they got closer, which they were doing. They weren't falling for her illusion. Either that, or haxxorus didn't scare them, which proved only that they were insane.

One's flame went bright, and she turned, dropping the illusion to face it. When she managed to get past these ten, she'd have to find Sister-kin and the one Sister-kin called Cacklebutt. They'd need to pool their strength if there were too many more.

[Umbrae Calamitas]

The sound of a crash called Casper's attention and he glanced down over the side of the building to see the Aqua member Olivia had been chatting up retreating into the building. If Olivia chased after him and managed to get into a battle, and Casper was stuck on the roof and bored, he was going to be pissed.

The first way to solve that problem would be to get off the roof and down where a battle was more likely, and hopefully imminent.

Making his way to the edge of the building, Casper swung a leg over the side and grabbed a tight hold of the ledge as he released his other leg and scraped the soles of his shoes against the side of the building until he had found the top ledge of the window. Taking a breath, suddenly very aware of the fact that getting up the building was a great deal easier than getting down would be, Casper lowered his one leg to the lower ledge of the window, grimacing as he was forced to stretch further than was comfortable for him. He grabbed the top of the window with his hands and lower his other leg, moving a large step downward.

He was attempting to move downward further still when his phone started going off in his pocket. Because he was on a mission (even though he didn't believe the mission was enough to require his skills), he had turned his phone down to the vibrate setting. On a reflex, he reached one hand into his pocket and scooped out his phone, sliding it open and--

"Yaa-ah!" Casper's one steady leg lost its footing when the old brick of the window ledge abruptly crumbled. His left knee slammed hard into the side of the building when he tried to catch himself, but gravity won over stubbornness, and he tried to catch the wall with his hands, only succeeding in scraping the skin of one hand raw, and scratching the screen of his brand new phone all to hell. He hit the ground hard on his right foot, which couldn't take the weight and momentum of his fall, and he slammed down hard on his back, the wind knocked out of him.

"Nngh... ow." Casper groaned and looked up to see Olivia glancing at him blankly, one hand holding a phone to her ear. Casper glanced from her to his own phone. He tapped the mutilated touch screen and watched, beyond the gashes, as the screen scrolled, displaying his last call.

Prewitt, Olivia. So she had been the one to call Casper at such an inappropriate time.

Casper wasn't going to ask how she got his cell phone number. Likewise, he had no intention of telling her that he already had hers programmed, as well as the address of her apartment, and the name of her next-door neighbor. He didn't intend to reveal that unless absolutely necessary.

Which meant never.

"And I don't even know the number," he grumbled, sliding the phone shut. It didn't fit together perfectly and resisted the urge to whimper pathetically. That phone had cost him four hundred dollars! "σκατά."

He turned his head so he was looking at Olivia again and gave her one of his less-potent puppy pouts. "Do you ever feel, Livvie Tivvie, that you're just having one of those days?"

~*~

The Not So Nice Kitty was being Not So Nice about finding Strings. Of course, Strings could not be found, since he was the sneakiest sneaker that ever sneakily sneaked, and Not So Nice Kitty wasn't as good.

She was close, but not as good.

Of course, Strings sort of thought this had something to do with the fact that the Not So Nice Kitty didn't have a theme song like Strings did, and Strings' theme song helped him sneak. If Not So Nice Kitty had had a theme song, then the Starving CurlyTail wouldn't have found her and she wouldn't have been almost-food.

Strings didn't have to worry about being almost-food. He was a ghost!

But he was a nice ghost, so he would make the Not So Nice Kitty a better sneaker. If she had a theme song, the Not So Nice Kitty might even be a better sneaker than Strings! So, floating just behind and above the Not So Nice Kitty's head, Strings began to chant the Not So Nice Kitty's theme song under his breath.

"Ba dum du-du-dum dooooo dum! Da dum du-du..." He trailed off when the purrloin turned her wide eyes to stare in his direction. Strings was still holding himself invisible, but at her narrowing eyes, he let his own eyes reappear in midair. They squinted in a smile at her and he couldn't help but giggle, despite the look in the Not So Nice Kitty's eyes like she wanted to be really not so nice and maybe make him almost-food.

[PinkiePie]

Vincent couldn't believe his eyes. Everything had gone so completely awry in such a short time. Snorunt was in hysterics; Sneasel was fighting a six on one free-for-all with a group of angry candles; there were other pokemon in the building, more than likely owned by the woman outside. Things had managed to go from smooth to out of control in a matter of mere seconds.

"Snorunt," Vincent snapped, trying to solve each issue one at a time, "stop crying! That's not helping."

The baby shuddered, but fell silent. Vincent felt awful for yelling at Snorunt, but the crying was distracting him.

"Can you fight?" It nodded complacently in his arms. "Then go assist poor Sneasel."

Snorunt leaped out of his arms and toddled away. Vincent opened the door again and peered outside, spotting Shellder and Aerodactyl. They were much closer then they had been before, as if waiting for Vincent to give them orders. Without waiting, Shellder hopped past his master and went inside to assist his fellow pokemon. Aerodactyl, much too big to enter the warehouse, took flight for the roof. The master had not given the orders, but was satisfied with the results his presence had created, and shut the door again.

Vincent turned around to look at the battle again and was instantly blown away by a wayward Icy Wind. The candle pokemon were jumping around all over the place, melting snow and igniting boxes as they went. One had ventured too close to Vincent and Sneasel had tried to prevent an incident, but only succeeded in knocking his master down. The pokemon launched an Ember attack back at Sneasel, who ducked back amid the slowly melting snow drifts, leaving Vincent alone.

The trainer had fallen onto a computer console and split a section of his forehead. He lay unconscious in the snow, bleeding very slowly...

-~-~-~-~-~

"What are these things?!" Sneasel exclaimed. His two fellow pokemon had joined his endeavor to protect Vincent, but that had not produced any noteworthy results in subduing these candles. None of them knew what they were, which made it difficult to fight them.

"I don't care, really," Shellder said quietly. He had been waiting behind Sneasel for a moment to catch one off guard, and had yet to be presented such an opportunity. "They're fire types, so I'm set."

"You should be so lucky," Sneasel fired back. "One coming to you!"

"Got 'em." Sneasel vaulted backwards over Shellder, who had formed a Protect around itself, and came down behind his friend just in time to avoid a Will-O-Wisp attack. The bivalve opened again and launched a Supersonic attack, dizzying the candles immediately in front of him. "All yours."

Sneasel ran around a stack of boxes and came out behind the befuddled enemies, hitting them hard with one swift Faint Attack. They dropped instantly and did not get back up. "They don't like my attacks, either. Maybe their ghosts?"

"There's a couple others floating around, too," Shellder noted. "Other pokemon, belonging to trainers."

"What?! How can you tell?"

"By the way they act toward one another. They're smart, coordinated, precise -- like us."

"Where?"

"I don't know," Shellder replied, aloof. Nothing phased him; not even a burning building. "I wouldn't mess with them. They're busy defending themselves."

"Where's Vincent? We need his help here."

Shellder used his eyes to direct Sneasel back to the door. There Vincent lay, unmoving in the snow. When he reached his master, Sneasel tried to get him to stand up. When that didn't work, he tried opening the door, but the handle was too high, just like before. There was no way to get him outside.

-~-~-~-~-~

Aerodactyl landed not-so-gracefully on the roof of the warehouse, scraping the metal panels with his rock-hard talons. Using a superheated Fire Fang, he ripped a chunk off the top and spat it over the side of the building. When he peered inside, all he could see was fire jets spouting across the room in every direction. Snorunt was cowering in a makeshift fort of snow that was starting to melt.

"Little one, you need to fight!" the ancient pokemon called into the chaos.

"I can't!" came the reply. "Where's Sneasel!?"

Aerodactyl needed to get inside. He had to rescue Snorunt. Vincent would be very pleased when he found out what he was doing. The baby was, after all, just sitting there, and he'd be very upset if something happened to him.

This post has been edited by Vincent Lance: Nov 17 2011, 10:44 AM

[Master Houndoom]

Olivia looked up when Ghost had dropped in on her. With a tsk, she ended the call she was trying to place and looked down at him. Resisting the urge to cross her arms, and fighting the urge to roll her eyes, she set her mouth in a grim line. "A simple hello would have sufficed. You didn't have to drop in like this."

She was momentarily confused by the surprised and amused look on his face, but let it go. It was unimportant. She held out a hand. "Can you walk? We are out of time as of now."

As it turned out, he could not walk. He could barely stand. He must have twisted his ankle when he landed. That was regrettable, for what had to be done would have been better done with someone along to back her up. That did not mean, however, that it could be avoided.

"The building has somehow caught on fire. Three of our pokémon are in there as we speak. Therefore, I am going in myself to retrieve them."

As she had expected, Casper took issue. "Did you not realize that we are on a mission in enemy territory, dear lollipop? You want to go into the building, alone, with no pokémon, knowing there's an Aqua scum member inside, to find two pokémon perfectly capable of taking care of themselves? Did you hit your head, or are you normally this stupid?"

Olivia turned her bright green eyes to him, willing them to pierce his chest. "They are all I have. If you care so little for Strings, I will gladly take him off your hands," Olivia replied, her voice even more clipped than usual. She put her hand out, glaring him in the eye, as if daring him to hand over the shuppet's pokéball.

Ghost stared at her for a moment in surprise, before slowly smirking. That smirk turned into a grin, and then a full-blown, if short, laugh. Raising his eyebrows, he bared his teeth at Olivia in a knowing smile. "Now, now, Lollipop, I knew you wanted a piece of me." He stretched out on the ground, spreading his arms wide. "But take a piece of the actual man and not a trained beast, if you're so inclined." He winked at her.

Olivia's eyes hooded. "Not even if the human race depended on it. I wouldn't subject future generations to have to live with your level of immaturity. Are you going to help me, or will I go alone?"

Casper pouted at her and then lifted his leg in the air, baring his twisted ankle. He gave her his best puppy-dog look from under unruly golden bangs. "Only if you carry me."

"I'm sure your cubone is more than up to the task."

"But I want your hands on me, Lollipop." He flashed her a grin.

She paused, stepped back, and sighed. "Yes. It's true." However, when he looked into her eyes, he saw only steel. "Regulations, however, look down on strangling a fellow agent to death."

Casper gave her a devilish grin. "Only in the good way, I hope."

"We're wasting time," she snapped, stepping forward and in through the window.

"Yes, I know," he muttered under his breath, "but ladies first."

[Umbrae Calamitas]

Casper waited until Olivia had disappeared inside the building before he pushed himself to his feet, gritting his teeth when he had to put weight on his ankle. He was not at all happy about his current situation, but it couldn't be helped at this point. He had been assigned a, by this point, apparently pointless mission, and given a partner who had absolutely no sense of humor, and no common sense. And while a part of Casper really wanted to just walk away and let her get herself attacked by whatever pokemon had caused the fire, that was the part that he usually associated with his mother's genes.

Sighing, and wincing as he stepped on his ankle (he probably should have gone to those first aid classes Kitty had hounded him about, so he could tell if it was sprained or not), Casper limped lightly as he moved to the door of the building and peered inside. Olivia had wasted no time making her way further in - he couldn't see her anywere within the vicinity of the doorway, which was just fine. He didn't exactly want her to know that he gave a damn whether or not she got herself hurt.

What? He had a reputation to uphold.

Pulling out Hamlet's pokeball, Casper called out the cubone. The biped snorted as he took in Casper's form - a few bruises were already making themselves home on his fair skin, and his ankle, which he was careful not to let his whole weight on, was beginning to swell.

"Shut it, Hamlet - I don't want to hear it."

The cubone crossed his arms and gave the best rendition of a smirk that Casper had ever seen on a pokemon that wore a skull mask that hid its face. He resisted the urge to steel the cubone's club and smack him with it.

"We're going to tail our dark-haired friend, Hamlet, without her knowing about it, and she's not exactly equipped for battle, being short on pokemon." He made a motion toward the door. "So if you've had enough laughs..."

Hamlet made a motion of his own, and Casper had to admit it was the first time he'd ever been flipped off by a pokemon. The cubone didn't hang around, though, and headed straight into the building. Lamely, in many versions of the word, Casper followed after.

[Master Houndoom]

Isra scuttled low. By now, the flames were strong enough that they were a constant presence, and Isra would have been surprised if the humans couldn't tell by now. Of course, there was the smoldering door she'd encountered upon meeting the tom earlier. That would be obvious, even to the Cacklebutt.

Ba dum du-du-dum dooooo dum! Da dum du-du...

Isra slowly looked back, eyes wide, the left one twitching. Really? This was the one her Olivia claimed was the best sneak? Cacklebutt was singing?! She stared at the place where the song had come from, and waited. Soon, a pair of eyes appeared. Then narrowed. Was he challenging her?!

No. He was giggling, and if he was a smart Cacklebutt, he wouldn't be giggling at the prospect of facing Isra.

... So it still might be a challenge.

We need to find my Olivia. There is danger. Also, my Nyx is coming, too. There are small not-annoying dangerous ghost pokémon about, and this place is not safe.

Cacklebutt reappeared and nodded, but turned in place, looking back and forth. Suddenly, he took off like a shot, humming a song that caused Isra to flatten her ears back, and charged at a seemingly random direction. Isra blinked after him, then, rolling her eyes at the imagined look on the face of her Nyx, dashed after him, keeping to the walls.

They came upon a prone human form, with a small brown lump next to it. Isra dashed behind one of the melting snow piles, watching warily. She looked up, and there was Cacklebutt, just watching from where he was floating, visible to the world.

HIDE, she snarled, and the ghost pokémon jumped.

The little napkin-like pokémon gasped, as if realizing she were right, then faded, too slow for Isra's tastes, but unnoticed.

They watched for a while. The little brown lump didn't seem very happy, nor very brave. It made a fort for itself out of ice, but that would be very small protection once the fire spread. There was a commotion at the door. A large pokémon was trying to get in, and that wasn't good either.

"Isra."

The voice was soft, but, of course Isra's amazing hearing picked it up. She snapped her head back, looking over her shoulder, and was delighted to see her Olivia walking their way. There was a commotion nearby, but Olivia was taking a route that would avoid it if it didn't move on her.

Isra waved her tail back and forth, a clear signal she and her Olivia and her Nyx had learned to show where she was, raising it high so Olivia, who knew to look for it, would see. Olivia had evidently abandoned all caution and made a combeeline for Isra's position.

"Where is Nyx?" It was a silly question from Olivia, but Isra was confident that her Olivia knew this and did not even try to answer. Her confidence was not misplaced. "Please go find her. I will wait here."

Isra turned and scooted off, but returned. With a hiss, she caught the Cacklebutt's attention. Keep her safe, Cacklebutt!

She'll be safe! the little ghost thought. She'll be so safely safe as the safest safely safe thing! Isra had not heard it, however, not being a psychic pokémon. Even if she had been, she would not have stuck around to hear it.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Nyx was getting tired.

Littered about were three of the litwick who had ambushed her, their eyes showing that odd spiral most pokémon seemed to get when they wouldn't move anymore. One more floated, upside down, as still as the other three. That still left six, however, and there were some singe marks on her tail and body that had come uncomfortably close to being much worse than they looked.

The six remaining litwick circled her, chanting in some strange tone of voice with strange tones of words that made Nyx's head feel fuzzy. Nyx could not afford for her head to feel fuzzy.

One of them, which had just been coming into sight from the clockwise rotation, suddenly moved in, floating and giggling. She turned and Leered in its direction, causing to stop suddenly, then dashed forward in Pursuit, slamming into it with her shoulder.

Several Ember attacks flashed past her, others falling short, and Nyx allowed herself a smile. The movement of her attack had thrown off their aim, and they'd all missed.

Or had they? She looked around, noting that she was now surrounded by fire, and her range of movement had been, effectively, halved.

She snarled and Leered at any of the pokémon in front of her, but though they twitched, it did not change their circling. Any moment, now, one would attack.

Golden coins flew from one side, passing through the litwick, but distracting them. At the same time, a deep hiss sounded, and Nyx knew she had been saved.

Sister-kin!

I have found our Olivia, Isra said, facing off the half of the litwick that had detached to deal with this new threat. She is dealing with a fallen person, but she worries. We have to go now.

Where is the little one, Nyx asked, circling around the halved forces. Her father's birthright manifested as a psychic attack, causing them all to wobble, but it was not very strong.

Cacklebutt is with our Olivia! We must go!

Nyx did not have to be told twice.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Olivia was not idle as she waited for her pokémon. She could hear what sounded like a pitched battle nearby, but more to the point was the injured young man. It was odd to think she had just been speaking to this man, and here they both were in mortal peril.

He more than her. And that made things very clear.

She stepped from behind the melting snow and rushed to the man. A snorunt in what looked to be a snow fort was staring at the door, obviously worried. Olivia knelt next to it and checked the young man's pulse. It was strong, but he did have a nasty gash on his forehead. She ran her hands up his sides and back down, checking rapidly for other wounds. She did find something that felt like a case or device in a pocket, but since that was likely not to do him harm from there, she ignored it.

The door was being torn apart from the other side, and Olivia could not stop her heart from pounding. She looked around and knelt, lifting the young man. Unfortunately, work behind a desk was not conducive to feats of strength.

She would have to drag him to another exit. And there was only one that she knew of: The one she'd come in.

She knew Weard would tell her to leave him. Part of her acknowledged that he was right, tactically. He was part of an enemy faction, a faction that was doing horrible things to pokémon. But he was also a human, and that made the decision easy. Bending over, she began to pull. The wet and ice was something of a help, but also something of a hindrance: he moved a bit easier, but her feet could not gain the traction needed to leave rapidly.

And then it was too late. The door crumbled open, and there was the creature ripping it down, an aerodactyl, which, seeing her and her charge, opened its mouth with a great hiss.

[Umbrae Calamitas]

Strings liked the pretty-girl, because she was nice and sweet and knew he was the sneakiest sneaker of all sneaky sneakers who ever sneaked sneakily. He liked the pretty-girl, because she was pretty, and because she didn't yell at Strings for playing with her hair like Ghost sometimes did, and because she liked him.

So when the nasty-bird-with-no-feathers ripped open the wall and roared at the pretty-girl and Strings, Strings was naturally affronted. He, after all, had done nothing wrong, and the pretty-girl could do nothing wrong, so THEY DIDN'T DO ANYTHING WRONG! But the nasty-bird-with-no-feathers was still roaring and grinding saw-blade teeth, and the pretty-girl was still here without any pokemon of her own, trying to proect the lump-headed-sleepy-guy. And because he was here and she was his pretty-girl, Strings wasn't going to let just any featherless birdbrained dinosaur roar at her like that. He wasn't even going to let this featherless birdbrained dinosaur do it! No siree bob!

With a high-pitched screech that echoed through the building, Strings disappeared from behind Olivia, and reappeared abruptly in front of her, not bothering to fade in or out. The nasty-bird-with-no-feathers was being mean, and there was no time to be silly or fun or shy. There wasn't even time for a theme song.

Strings mourned the lack of a theme song.

His eyes began to glow, black and dark purple, the irises pulsing with dark light so fierce it began to spill over and seemed to warp the color of his face, circling around him. Without emitting a sound, the shuppet released the dark light from him in a sharp beam that erupted from his eyes in a ghostly attack.

~*~

The warehouse was larger than it appeared on the outside. Or, at the very least, it took an agonzingly painful amount of time to traverse, due to the snowy atmosphere that had no place inside of it, and Casper's possibly-sprained ankle. Still, he wasn't about to go back outside and leave his idiot partner to her own devices and the tender mercies of whatever creature she ran into.

Twice now he had encountered a litwick while moving through the warehouse. He had little doubt that the partial fire-type pokemon were the cause of the flames that flickered throughout the building, and if they weren't, he didn't want to know the cause. Hamlet had dealt a swift blow both times the litwick had appeared, using his bone club to rid the ghost pokemon of their consciousness. Casper, despite his name, had no desire to fall into the spirit realm after an already crappy day.

Casper was mourning his lack of a spare pokeball after Hamlet had bone clubbed his third litwick, when a screech rippled through the air. The cubone stiffened at the sound, and Casper glanced up. Although it wasn't an uncommon attack, he knew instinctively who it had come from. Strings was notorious for using Screech as his opening move in a battle.

"Hamlet."

The cubone didn't need to be commanded. He moved swiftly, making certain that Casper was able to keep him in sight, as he followed the sounds of battle that came faster to his ears than to his trainer's. The two remained hidden in the shadows as they came upon the scene of Olivia, attempting to drag an unconscious young man through the snow, while Strings used his Night Shade attack against a very pissed off aerodactyl.

"Stand watch," Casper murmured, catching sight of Olivia, small and slight as she was, continue to attempt to pull the other man to safety. He rolled his eyes as he slipped from the cubone's side, knowing that his moody-but-loyal pokemon would watch his back. He would much rather leave the idiot Aqua member here than bother, but it was becoming swiftly apparent that Olivia Prewitt was as stubborn as they came.

He stepped out of the shadows, doing all he could to hide his limp, and ignored whether or not he startled her as he grabbed the unconscious Aqua slimeball under the armpits and hefted him up. He was no firefighter, and there was no way he could throw the kid over his shoulder and hope to keep standing on a sprained ankle, but he could at least successfully drag him out of the building.

"Come on, Popsicle. I'm not dragging your ass out of here, too." Without looking at her, he began pulling the unconscious lump of an Aqua away from the battle between Strings and the angry aerodactyl, aware of Hamlet's eyes as the cubone scanned the area for danger.

[PinkiePie]

How dare they!?

Who were they to take Vincent away? They were not friends! Aerodactyl had seen the female outside before, when master Vincent had been awake. When Aerodactyl had come down to to the door to help, and finding his master unconscious, he had tried to save him. Now Vincent was hurt, and he needed help, but these strangers were taking him away. Worse, they were attacking Aerodactyl! The nerve!

His head reeled out from the destroyed door, his eyes burning from the shock of the attack launched by the floating puppet. Immediately he moved to retaliate, but suddenly the section above the removed door collapsed into the warehouse interior. Flaming metal and burning wood caved in over the hole in the wall, sealing the exit.

Perhaps the puppet had saved Aerodactyl?

Or perhaps he had scared it. Either way, Vincent needed to be saved, and Aerodactyl wasn't going to sit around and wait for it happen by itself.

-~-~-~-~-~

Sneasel nearly had a heart attack as a section of the burning building collapsed nearby. A couple of humans had taken Vincent away to safety, and Aerodactyl had misinterpreted it as a threat. In the process of trying to save him, the ancient pokemon had been inadvertently saved by a particularly random attack from somewhere. Shellder, of course, didn't care so much about that as he did the fact that Vincent was being taken away.

"Shellder, this place is coming down!" Sneasel cried over the sounds of battle.

"No...really?" The bivalve shot a spear of ice at a confused enemy pokemon that neither of them had a name for. "I hadn't noticed."

"We need to get out of here!" Sneasel started running toward the humans, who obviously knew where they were going better than he did.

"Wait up, Captain Obvious!" mocked Shellder as it bounced after him. He passed the melting fort on his way and saw the cowering Snorunt behind the wall. "Oh, hey, you need to come too."

"I can't! I'm safe here..."

"Don't be stupid. You'll die if you stay-"

A blast of fire jetted past Shellder and obliterated the left wall. Snorunt, now exposed to the battle completely, turned and stared, horrified, at the opposing enemy. A large, ornate lantern-shaped ghost rose from the flames and glared angrily at the pair of ice types. Although the smaller candles continued battling mindlessly around them, igniting the building in the process, they paid no attention to what appeared to be their leader. Shellder braced for a battle while Snorunt cowered harder.

The following Flamethrower was absorbed by a hastily cast Protect, deflecting the flames up into the roof. Shellder retaliated with a fierce Icicle Spear that had little effect on the enemy. It seemed to smile mockingly at the bivalve, then launched a beam of dark energy at him. Shellder, unable to react as quickly a second time, Withdrew into a completely reclusive state. The outer shell burned painfully as it resisted the attack as best it could. He doubted he could stay like this much longer, and that he'd be a goner long before the pokemon relented, since the building was coming down as well.

But after a few more seconds of pain, the attack ceased. Shellder peaked out of his shell to see multiple Snorunts in a large circle, completely surrounding the ghost. It panicked, launching a Fire Spin at a group of clones. But the moment they disappeared, the remaining lot jumped headlong at it. One of them made solid contact with a ferocious Bite attack, followed by an Icy Wind from between Snorunt's teeth. The extra gust forced the pokemon to the ground as the sharp pain of the unrelenting bite caused it to lose focus.

Shellder took the opportunity to stun the ghost while it was too busy to notice him, launching a furiously loud blast of Supersonic. Snorunt released its Bite just as he did so, sending the disoriented lantern pokemon into the far wall, where it collided and sat immobilized for a short time. As it started to recover, obviously not anywhere near done fighting, beams and sheets of flaming metal fell from the roof between the combatants. Shellder realized he was outmatched here, and that staying any longer would be deadly. "Snorunt...thanks for the help, but we need to go."

"Alright!" it replied excitedly. The youngster was obviously fired up now, happy to assist his fellow pokemon. the shy, timid, loving-tender Snorunt was a sort of shell, much easier to crack than Shellder's physical one, that it occasionally burst out of when it needed to. Now was one of those times, and Shellder would never forget this moment in time, where Snorunt saved his life. Together the two friends hopped toward Sneasel, who was a good distance away, following the humans.

This post has been edited by Vincent Lance: Nov 19 2011, 08:13 PM

[Master Houndoom]

Olivia watched stoically as Strings took on the aerodactyl. She immediately upgraded his status from simply cute to brave as well, and continued trying to drag the young man she had been attempting to rescue away.

That was when she was interrupted by Casper, who picked the other man up by his shoulders and proceeded to drag him toward the broken out window. She looked after him, briefly. That was... not expected.

It was immediately evident that Casper was hiding something, though what it was wasn't immediately clear. She would have to watch closer once they were out of danger. He was loud and irresponsible and a little bit clumsy, but she would still feel badly if he'd gotten hurt.

Clearly she was not cut out for field work.

Now, however, was not the time to bemoan the fact. The smell of smoke was getting clearer, there was a young man in peril, and her pokémon were still missing.

A slight, lilting "liiiit" came from the path that they were traveling, and both her and Casper looked up, the latter looking over his shoulder. There, floating up and down in a line, alternating odd and even so that the corridor was effectively blocked, were four litwick, giggling syllables of their names in one voice.

Their escape was blocked off. They had entered a short hallway that lead to the room with the broken window, and now had nowhere to go. Going back was not an option; that way lie a very angry aerodactyl who was very likely out for blood.

"What of Hamlet," she asked, softly. The answer was better than she felt she could have hoped.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Nyx and Isra dashed down the hallway. Things were now getting tense, as the fires had gone from a faint smell of smoke to a very real flaming-and-collapsing building. The snow and ice that had been inside the building was melting rapidly in patches, and the wet was not doing anything to make their journey faster.

The smell of smoke blocked Nyx' senses, as well as Isra's, but Isra lead as if this did not trouble her. It was times like this that made Nyx glad that Isra was around. Nyx, being the more thoughtful and wary of the two, would have dashed around, quietly, yes, but without direction, hoping to stumble into Olivia by chance. Isra always had a plan, even when it seemed that no plan was possible.

However, once they had reached a certain spot, Isra skidded to a stop. When she looked back at Nyx, her eyes were heartbreakingly wide. She was here. Our Olivia was here. Where could she have gone?

Nyx looked around, taking it all in slowly. This was her contribution to the pair: Isra planned, but Nyx could figure out what to do when the planned didn't work out. There had been a doorway here, and it was collapsed. Other pokémon had battled here and were now running away, and it hadn't been long. Nyx stood and waved her tail in front of Isra's face.

Mother-kin is this way, sister-kin. It isn't safe to linger.

It isn't safe for her to be without us, either, Isra agreed.

The two dashed off, down the hallway where Olivia and Casper's scent were strong now, strong enough to be sensed through the smoke. The scents of the ocean, and ice floes, and a little bit of dirt, as well as something very similar in smell to Isra and Nyx, but not quite, were also detectable.

"What of Hamlet?"

Two hearts jumped in two thin chests at the sound of the voice. Isra and Nyx didn't need to look at each other, but did anyway: Olivia was, at least for now, still alive and in no more danger than they were. And there was nothing that, together, they could not handle.

It was, uncharacteristically, Nyx who saw the litwick, hovering and blocking the humans' way. She charged and leapt, landing on Olivia's shoulder, and Pursuing one of the litwick as it traveled its way to the floor. Isra, immediately understanding as soon as Nyx gave her yipping growl, leapt over the other shoulder, clearing it easily, and faced another.

At the same time, a dark shape charged one of the ones nearest the wall, and a bone-like club smacked into the one on the opposite wall's side. Strings appeared as if from nowhere, and Screeched his battle cry.

Nyx could see behind the litwick, and there seemed to be more coming, not many, but more. But for now, there were these four to deal with.

[Umbrae Calamitas]

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me." Casper unceremoniously dropped his heavy burden and the unconscious boy fwapped to the ground. He rolled his shoulder under a hand, moaning pitifully, face a rictus of pain. Of course, Olivia was more interested in the reappearance of her two pokemon. Casper rolled his eyes and ended the attempt at pity. He couldn't blame her for being pleased to see them, not that he would admit such a thing to her.

The white club that came striking down from the darkness clobbered one of the litwick soundly. Casper heard Strings before he saw the shuppet, the screech tearing through the air and caused the litwick to shudder.

Strings swooped down at the group of litwick, an oversized, ethereal tongue lolling out of his mouth and washing behind him like a slobbering banner dripping ectoplasmic drool. The shuppet twirled carelessly, flinging ghost-spit in every direction. The sound of Casper yelling in disgust as a gob of ectoplasm splattered in his face did nothing to deter the ghost, as he began humming his theme song loudly, dancing through the air and waving his tongue in tune.

"Strings! Start battling and knock it off!"

With a twirl, the shuppet spun to face a random litwick, and the ghostly tongue struck out like a chameleon. Mere centimeters before it touched the litwick, it froze in midair, and the end of the tongue became bulbous, and grew five digits, until there was a man-sized hand connected to the drooling mouth appendage. The fingers curled, the hand forming a fist, and then the fisted-tongue punched the litwick in the face.

The candle ghost reeled back from the Knock Off attack, the light on the top of its head fluttered, and Strings opened his mouth wide, the long tongue flying backward. The fist at the end of his long tongue careened forward, smacking the shuppet in the mouth and disappearing in a ghostly cloud. Strings reeled back himself, somersaulting in reverse and cackling as he mocked the litwick.

There was a flash of fire as the litwick attacked, but Strings disappeared abruptly and the fire missed himself, hitting the floor and leaving a dark circle of ash.

Two large eyes appeared behind the litwick, who was looking around in front of him. A loud screech behind him was all the warning he got, and he spun around to be struck with black and purple pain, as the shuppet unleashed a Night Shade attack and sent the litwick off into unconsciousness.

~*~

"Well, this mission's a bust," Casper muttered, crouching down beside the unconscious boy and beginning to dig through his pockets. "We're no closer to finding what we came for than we were when we started, the whole building's going to burn to the ground, our fearsome opponent and the apparent guard against what we want is currently unconscious - and yet we're rescuing him." He said the last part with a pointed emphasis and a look at his partner, eyebrow cocked. "And our greatest adversary to date is a group of ghost pokemon who might sooner melt into a puddle of wax than be defeated by us. Have I left anything out?"

"Yes. You've done little more than complain for the whole mission."

"One of us has to show some enthusiasm for this wonderful fiesta the company's sent us to." His attention was drawn to the boy's pocket. "Ah, hello, what've we got?" Pulling out a small wallet, Casper flipped it open, studying what was inside. "Some poke, credit card, boring, boring, useless, boring." He sighed. "He's a bad adversary and an even worse catch." Pulling the poke and the identification card and stuffing them both in his pocket, he chucked the wallet to the side and continued rifling through pockets.

"Πρέπει να έχετε κάτι που αξίζει να την εύρεση ... aha!" Casper felt something small and thin in one of the boy's pocket and reached in for it. Let it be a cell phone chip, or a pokemon capture memory card - I could do wonders with one of those. Let it be-- "A data chip." Casper gazed at the simple, boring disk with disappointment. A mere memory disk - nothing marking it as holding preventative measures to keep hackers from obtaining its secrets, or some viral infection that would overload the computer of anyone who inserted it into a drive. No - just a boring data disk with no clear purpose other than to hold information. Probably pictures of this guy and his family at the beach, or he and his girlfriend.

"I do not want to know your taste in women, you boring, boring man." Casper flicked the disk into the fire that had overtaken one of the walls and pouted for a minute, all pockets searched. He glanced toward his pokemon. Strings was back to playing with his opponents, slobbering ectoplasm and singing as he twirled through the air. Hamlet just looked annoyed - though that was pretty common lately - and smashing his club on top of the head of anyone that annoyed him. Casper winced as he saw Strings get clobbered. Friend or foe, it seemed, though the strike to the head seemed to have gotten the point across. Another Night Shade from Strings sent another litwick crashing back.

"Right, I'm bored." Grabbing the collar of the unconscious kid's shirt, Casper stood up and began to drag his burden toward the exit. "Strings, Hamlet - finish your fun, we're leaving this borefest."

There was a cackle of what Casper interpretted as pleased agreement, and then Strings' eyes reappeared in front of Casper, looking plaintive. Casper rolled his eyes. "No, you may not bring your litwick friends with you." The shuppet's eyes blinked in solemn pleading. "No, Strings. I don't have any pokeballs."

The eyes half-disappeared as the ghost pokemon expressed his disappointment, and the two orbs floated back toward the litwick. Casper called after him.

"And no telling them where we live so they can follow! I'll know it was you, Strings!"

Hamlet wagged a claw at the shuppet in an "I told you so" motion and shouldered his club as he headed toward the exit. Strings sighed and formed a hand with his tongue again, taking time to wave goodbye to every litwick individually, even though they were unconscious and didn't notice anyway. He didn't pay much attention to the still-conscious ones, other than to avoid their attacks. They hadn't played with him as hard as the others had. He wouldn't miss them as much.

"Strings!"

With a final screech that sent the still-conscious litwick twitching backward, the shuppet raced for the door, sucking his tongue back into his mouth like a long spaghetti noodle as he flew.

~*~

To Strings' great disappointment, he didn't need to throw another computer terminal through a window for them to escape. Casper made a big deal about being injured so he got to climb out first, and then between he and Olivia, they managed to get the unconscious kid through the window, and Olivia and her crew followed after.

There, outside of the building, a drifblim and a yanmega waited, with a rider astride the dragonfly.

"You're the ghost, yeah?"

"Depends on who the nosy ass is sitting on the butterfree."

The yanmega made a fierce bzzing sound at being insulted, but the rider merely glared. "I'm Josh, escort service here to pick you up."

"That so?" Casper asked, cocking an eyebrow. "What's the password?"

"Ain't no password, you little shit! I was told you were a smartass, but I hadn't figured something like this. Now, you finish the mission or not?"

"Yeah, we're finished," Casper muttered.

"And did you get what you were told to?"

Casper crossed his arms. "There wasn't nothing to be got. Can we get a ride home? I'm freaking hungry and my phone's broken."

Josh scoffed. "You kidding? A couple'a new recruits-"

"I am not a new recruit."

"-get sent on an easy as pie mission and you fail and you expect a ride home and a foot massage?"

"I didn't say anything about a foot massage," Casper hissed between his teeth, "though you can go and butter my-"

"Ghost."

Casper stopped himself with an effort. "No taxi service, then?"

"Hey, you two just won me two beers in a bet with Geno. I won't be that hard on you." He grinned and then pointed behind Casper and Olivia. "Home's thattaway, newbs." With a wink and a wave, he nudged the yanmega in the sides and headed off, pulling the dirfblim behind. "See you at work, Ghouly."

Casper twitched. "Ghouly?" He shook his head. "Fine, we'll walk." He spun on his heel, regretting it the instant pain arced up the sprain and he nearly fell over. Steadying himself, he headed off in the direction Josh had indicated, grinding his teeth. "Stupid... asshole..."

[PinkiePie]

...

"...Well, this mission's a bust," someone muttered.

Darkness. His eyes were glued shut by pain. Vincent's head felt like it was being torn open, as though a sword had struck him over the skull. He knew that wasn't the case, but the pain kept him completely floored. Using what little sensory perception he still had, Vincent managed to pick up that he had been moved from where he'd fallen. Whatever had caused him to black out, it was gone, and now he was in the presence of unfamiliar voices.

No, he thought to himself. The female voice is familiar...Who is that?

He couldn't not move; he lacked the capacity even if he desired to. Vincent breathed through his agape mouth for what felt like an eternity, pain-wracked and frozen stiff. There was so much going on in his mind; the sound of fire crackling in the air couldn't drown out the conversation taken place nearby between the male and female voices, talking about some mission or another. At one point, the male voice mentioned Vincent's pockets, and likewise began to rummage through them. Unable to resist the intrusion, he listened as closely as he could while this disembodied figure made a rather curious remark regarding Vincent's taste in women, followed by a noise similar to that of snapping plastic. Someone had destroyed the backup disks.

For quite some time after that, he could tell his listless form was being moved. Someone was rescuing Vincent from the burning warehouse. When he was able to move, Vincent made a point to personally thank whoever had taken the time to remove him from danger. As the sounds of fire and chaos grew less and less immediate, and the sensation of dirt touching his limp fingers, he knew he was outside and away from harm. At that moment he tried to get a grip on his motor functions, and slowly his fingers began to respond to his commands. They clenched into the dirt and held a clump to his palm.

Time passed incredibly slowly. Every movement was a chore, not made any easier by the merciless throbbing that persisted throughout Vincent's head. He eventually got the strength to lift his torso, and when his eyes finally opened what felt like hours later, he found himself sitting upright. Turning his head, Vincent saw clearly a young many starting to walk away from him. Had this young man saved him? Was this the young man that had asked about his taste in women?

"Fine, we'll walk," muttered the young man angrily. The voice was identical to the one Vincent had heard earlier. This was the disembodied voice that had saved him.

"You there!" Vincent spoke. Pain coursed through his jaw with each word, but he needed to say something. "Wait. Thank you...for saving me."

He slowly turned his head to see everything else around him. His pokemon were nowhere nearby.

"Where are...?" Tears began to well up in Vincent's eyes. Each teardrop fell into a stream of blood that was still lightly trickling down his cheek, causing it to flow just a little faster, and eventually he appeared to be crying blood. Had his friends not made it out of the warehouse? Were they still in there? Vincent couldn't stand, and was helpless to find out for himself. The realization that they might be lost forever started to sink in when out of a window above Vincent came a loud, shattering noise, followed by a jet of fire, and lastly by Sneasel carrying Snorunt in his arms. Shellder, who had climbed out another window, hopped up next to the other two pokemon and looked at Vincent apathetically.

Vincent's hands began to tremble. They're okay, he thought to himself. Instantly a smile of relief broke out on his face, which was mirrored in the expressions of Sneasel and Snorunt. They both leaped at Vincent in an embrace, and he fell onto his back, laughing and crying despite the pain.

Aerodactyl appeared behind the building and saw Vincent with the others. He also noticed the trainer with the mean puppet nearby, but made no move to harm the human. He had, after all, saved his master.

This post has been edited by Vincent Lance: Dec 17 2011, 05:16 PM

[Master Houndoom]

Olivia was silent as they walked back to the bus stop.

This was not an uncommon state of affairs. Isra, in fact, did not seem concerned at all, her tail waving back and forth.

That, too, seemed odd. It would call attention to them. Unwanted attention, in other situations. As it was, Nyx did not thing that the attention it might draw was entirely unwanted.

Her sister-kin would not give them attention that they couldn't handle, and Nyx decided to worry about this out of character display later. As it was, she was more concerned about Sister-kin... Mother-kin, maybe, more... Olivia. She was being quiet, which was not odd. She was, however, not expressing her rightful exasperation at the Chatty male beside her. The male who was, as of now, complaining vociferously about the mission. Nyx knew, from experience, that this would ordinarily earn the offender a scowling at the least, and, given their interactions previous, a stern talking to or a caustic remark at the least. However, Mother-kin now walked, straight backed, hair swinging ever so slightly, staring straight forward.

When Nyx scrambled forward, she could see that Olivia's jaw was clenched tight.

She smelled off, as well. Not badly. Nyx never thought she smelled badly. But off. Something was wrong, for sure.

The loud one was currently spouting how wrong it was for them to even have been assigned the job they had been asked to perform, and a waste. What it was a waste of, Nyx was not made aware of, because just after he said the word waste, Mother-kin stopped, spun on her heel, and stood directly in his path.

"Mr. Weard, no one is more aware that the fault for this mission's failure rests squarely on its leader's shoulders. If you would kindly stop talking about it, I would count it as... a favor." This confused Nyx. He had not put any of the blame on her. Had he, he would have been bitten and scratched in the shins. Nyx and Isra would have made sure that happened.

She did not stop to hear his response. Instead, she spun on her heel once more and continued walking, her back as straight as it had been, her pace no faster, nor slower. But Nyx, and she was sure Isra had looked back to see it as well, had paced her, and could see that her jaw muscles were clenched constantly. The pair of pokemon cast concerned glances at each other as they reached the entry to the Rebellion's underground complex. There would have to be some cuddling done at home tonight. Nyx nodded to Isra and slipped through the entry ahead of her Sister-kin and Mother-kin, both to keep her family safe, and, she thought with a smile, to give Isra time to meet the tom she'd been leading so obviously.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Olivia stood in her Supervisor's office. Her back was ramrod straight, and she stared straight ahead, but her mind was in turmoil. Not only had she failed her first mission, she had dragged down someone else (who didn't seem to care, but still, he had been her responsibility.). Worse, she had disappointed her supervisor, when he had put this much trust in her.

The Supervisor listened to her report, watching her intently. A little too intently, for Olivia's taste. She didn't like the attention as it was, but it was worse when she could only anticipate his disappointment.

Still, she described the events as they happened, leaving out neither Ghost's antics nor her own foolish decision to go into the building to retrieve her pokemon, despite the more seasoned agent's warning against it.

"And you were not able to recover the data?"

Olivia swallowed slightly, unable to quell her disappointment in her self. "As I mentioned sir, we had been anticipated, and the inside was prepared. If not for Ghost's... ghost, we may not have found any entry at all. Then the building caught fire under unknown circumstances, and there was no time to search."

The supervisor nodded, steepling his fingers. "And the Aqua guard? Did he, perhaps, use any affected pokemon?"

Olivia's brow furrowed. "I do not believe so. All of the pokemon that I saw with him seemed quite loyal. One of them was driven to violence."

The Supervisor narrowed his eyes, then closed the folder. "Well, it is quite disappointing," he said, and Olivia's heart dropped, until he tapped the edge of the folder on the desk. "However, it couldn't have been helped. You performed admirably."

Olivia could only blink. "But sir..." She struggled to find the right words. "I failed."

The Supervisor smiled kindly. "Miss Prewitt, it was, after all, your very first mission. Even seasoned agents fail a mission once in a while. You'll learn."

Olivia's surprise was palpable, and she found herself leaving after being dismissed. It wasn't until she had gotten to her apartment in the underground complex that she realized she had not clarified that her first mission would also be her last.


~*~*~*~*~*~

Isra had left when Olivia had gone to her supervisor, with food wrapped in a towel. She came back, silently, very late. Her Olivia was asleep, as was her Nyx, curled on the bed. She padded in silently, curled up on the other side of the bed, and closed her eyes.

And woke up, slightly, when Nyx coughed. The fox was looking at her with a small smile on her face.

Slut, she smirked, laying her head down. Isra's ears flattened back on her skull, but she did not comment. It wouldn't have done any good. Not with the smile on her feline lips.

[Umbrae Calamitas]

That night, Casper lay in bed with the sheets only reaching to his wait, leaving his chest bare. His arms were folded behind his head as he stared up at the cracked ceiling, trying to find shapes in the water stains.

Casper's philosophy involved a lot of laughing at other people's expense, enjoying life to the fullest he could on other people's pocket change, and not letting the petty problems of others bother him.

He wasn't doing so well with that last one.

It wasn't really someone else's problem that had his mind running down a dark alley in his consciousness that he tried to avoid. Rather, it was an unexpected... development.

Oh, for crying out loud...

Why in the hell had Olivia thought the mission failing was her fault?

Grunting, Casper kicked at his sheets and rolled over onto his stomach, crossing his arm beneath his chin and glaring down at his pillows. Shitty little pillows they were, too - stained, thin, and they smelled like stale cigarettes.

Normally, if someone decided to take all of the blame off of his shoulders, Casper wouldn't even bother with a grateful nod. It was nothing he would have ever gotten in return had he done the same thing for--

In the past.

Why was this different? It's not like Wiggington the Great and Balding gave him much of a lecture. He didn't even offer up a half-decent guilt trip. It was a little disappointing, actually.

"Ah, Agent Weard. Good to see you made it back in one piece."

"No thanks to that ass who showed up with two steed-pokemon and didn't give us a ride home."

"Joshua was sent there to retrieve you so that any sensitive information was not left out in the open to be available for others to take." Casper's supervisor folded his hands on the desk before him. "However, I see now that a needn't have worried myself. Olivia tells me that you didn't find anything of pertinence?"

"No, we didn't, but you knew we wouldn't anyway, didn't you?" Casper grumbled, folding his hands across his chest.

"I assure you, Agent Weard, that this was not some hoax to set you and Olivia up. That fact hasn't changed, despite your mentioning it six times in the past five minutes." He ignored Casper's sneer. "Miss Prewitt has taken full responsibility for the failure of this mission. I find that admirable, if foolish of her. After all, she wasn't working alone, was she, Mr. Weard?"


Okay, maybe there had been a bit of a guilt trip, but it was nothing like what Casper was used to. His mother had always treated her guilt tripping like an art form.

Casper didn't know why it was bothering him so much that Olivia had apparently taken the blame for the mission's failure. It wasn't anyone's fault but their idiot boss, sending out a rookie and a transfer agent with better things to do than babysit an emotionless--

Casper growled behind his teeth and punched his pillow a few times.

Maybe the thing that was bothering him the most was that Wigglesworth had said he would be doing another mission with Olivia in a few days. And she was in charge.

Flopping back down on his back, Casper groaned loudly at the ceiling and tossed a pillow at a yellowish-brown waterstain. He missed, and the pillow knocked the lamp off of the stand by his bed.

"Cool it down up there!" someone yelled from the apartment below.

"Shuddup!" Casper yelled back, and pulled the other pillow over his face.

He hated apartment buildings.

[PinkiePie]

Vincent's journey back to base under the afternoon sunset was long and full of anguish. His whole body was wracked with pain, from head to toe; where the flames had not licked him, and where the frostbite had not eaten him, cuts and bruises happily took their place. He was an absolute mess when Aerodactyl finally touched down in front of the hidden Aqua headquaters, barely able to stand and inching closer to collapse with every step. As he trundled down the hallways, dragging one leg limply behind him and holding one arm in the other, every Aqua grunt and their officers stared at him with confused, worried expressions, but made no effort to help Vincent.

He finally reached his commander's office and slammed the door open. The young man turned to face him and did little more than grimace.

"You're a mess, Lance," he said casually.

"Gee, thanks," Vincent croaked. "Could you get me some help?"

"Your wife has been notified of your return, and the paramedics are on the way. In the meantime, what can you report?"

"Warehouse is burned to the ground. The Rebels unwittingly destroyed the data files."

His commander nodded thoughtfully. "I can't say I'm pleased with the results, but your mission was a success. I'll see to it that you're properly treated after your...incident today. You're dismissed."

Just as he was about to say that he couldn't walk another step, Vincent felt a hand on his shoulder pulling him gently backward. He found himself leaning against a stretcher, and when he relaxed again, his feet were pulled out from under him. Lying on his back, the paramedics carried Vincent to the medical wing, and after a few hours of treatment and a dose of anesthesia, he awoke in his own private bedroom. His pokemon were crowded around him, almost completely overshadowed by the human figure leaning over him. The room around him was dark, lit only by what he thought was the silver glow of the midnight moon through the window by the bed.

"Vincent?" asked the hazy figure.

His vision was blurry. "Who's there?" he mumbled.

Suddenly two slender arms were thrown around Vincent, sparking a little pain and a lot of surprise. When lips made contact with his cheek, however, all doubt was erased from his mind. Lanette was here.

"Oh, Vincent, I was so worried about you!" said her angelic voice from somewhere within the blur of her figure. "I had heard you'd been injured, and I-"

"Shh," Vincent whispered. "I'm okay..."

Lanette was about to respond, but Vincent silenced her with a hand gently placed behind her head. He brought her closer and tried to give her a kiss, but was unable to judge the distance and succeeded in crashing his forehead into hers. They exchanged yelps of pain before Lanette took the hint and found Vincent' lips for him, almost falling on top of him as she relaxed her body and savored the moment. He was safe, and that was all that mattered.

After a few seconds of exchanging saliva, Vincent relinquished his wife from his caress. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine," she replied softly. "But Sneasel..."

Vincent was suddenly very awake. He bolted upright in bed, again smashing his face into Lanette's. He ignored the pain and started frantically scanning the room; he could not see Sneasel anywhere. Snorunt and Shellder were both present, sitting on the bedside, talking to one another happily about their relief over the state of their bedridden master.

However, movement in the far corner caught Vincent's eye. From the shadow strode a tall, handsome Weavile, wearing a familiar pendant around its neck. It gave Vincent a toothy grin.

"...Sneasel?" Vincent asked deliriously. It put a claw up in a manner reminiscent of a thumbs up sign. "...Or, should I call you Weavile now?"

Weavile leaped across the room and landed on the bed beside Vincent. He at his newly evolved pokemon and smiled from ear to ear, proud and overjoyed for his faithful companion's latest achievement. Lanette, still rubbing her recently abused forehead, smiled back at her husband.

"There's more," she whispered.

"Is Seel alright?" Vincent asked enthusiastically, ignoring the phantom pain that accompanied medical treatment. "Is he coming back?"

"Not yet," Lanette said with a frown. "Dad's gonna keep him a little longer. No, this is a little more...personal."

Lanette had never called Vincent's father 'dad' before. His face skewed into an expression of pure curiosity and confusion. "Go on."

"Vincent..." She sat down next to him and put a hand on his cheek. "I'm pregnant."

For a moment, the words didn't register in Vincent's mind. He simply blinked and stared back at her. "What?"

"I'm pregnant, Vincent. We're going to be parents."

She was so calm, so sincere...Vincent started to feel tears of joy well up in his eyes. Wordlessly and put a hand to his beloved wife's face and brought it down her neck, taking a bit of her crimson hair in his fingers. Then, when he had the ends of her locks held tight, he gripped her arm as lovingly as he could and pulled her to his chest, sobbing quietly onto her shoulder. Despite all that had happened earlier that morning, this was the best day of his life.

He was going to be a daddy...