Interlude – Shift

Interlude – Shift

INTERLUDE - SHIFT

"I mean, dude... Grace the Impaler?" Denzel snorted, as he had every time he repeated the name. "That's so on the nose."

Denzel Williams stared at Grace, who shook her head in dismissal. It had been hours since her dominant victory over Wake, and they'd already hosted a party for her. There was something tense in her shoulders, he noticed. She'd taken on the responsibility for her UPAN colleague's trauma, so Denzel wanted to cheer her up through teasing.

"I like it!" she exclaimed. "It really speaks to me, and you being an asshole about it sucks."

"Even Cece found it funny. She just doesn't want to mock you because you guys are dating."

Grace rolled her eyes. "Jasmine wears her corny title on her sleeve. If she can be the Rapier of Olivine, I can be Grace the Impaler."

"Sure thing..."

She pinched the small of his back, causing him to jump and her to snicker like a kid. The evening air was warm, which reminded Denzel of Twinleaf. Pastoria's weather was strikingly similar to his hometown, and it made him somewhat nostalgic.

"Pauline doing okay?" Grace asked.

"Oh, she'll recover," he said with a clenched fist. "She still doesn't want to speak to me much. I'm waiting for her to cool down, and her loss hasn't helped with that. Even Emilia's been kicked out of her room."

Grace winced. "Yikes. Well, it's always good to give her space when she's like that."

He nodded pensively. They knew Pauline in and out by now, along with her quirks. She'd bounce back stronger than ever, even if the Conference was basically no longer a possibility.

"What about you?" Grace asked. "How are you doing?"

He turned toward his best friend. There was always something in her eyes, when she worried for one of her loved ones. Innocence, maybe? Something that made it hard to remember that she was the same girl that had ordered her Togekiss to break Palafin's arm without a moment's hesitation. Grace made a lot more effort to spend some time on social media, but he didn't think she knew how many people couldn't believe she just did that sometimes. The only ones who fought similarly at a high level were Amar Hamili from Orre or a few people from Kanto-Johto, but he could count them on his hands. This style of battling would make her a pariah in Unova, but despite his warnings to her, she didn't care enough to change it.

"Sure, what do you mean?" He shrugged.

"You know what I mean, Denzel."

Denzel leaned against the Pokemon Center's walls and took a deep breath. "I try not to think about it." The world ending, and you messing with beings beyond my comprehension.

"If you want to talk, I'm here, yeah?"

"I know that."

"I make a good hype girl," she smirked. "Remember how I cheered you up before you fought Gardenia?"

"Don't make it seem like it was twenty years ago or something," he chuckled. She loved reminiscing about good memories. "But yes, I remember. But, you know, this situation is orders of magnitude above that." He stopped and ran a hand through his dark brown hair. "But I'm okay. Taking it one day at a time."

Grace leaned deeper against her crutches. "Always the optimistic one."

"If I wasn't where would you be?" he asked half-jokingly.

"Probably dead."

The words were like a bucket of cold water had dropped on his head, because he knew from her tone that she was being serious.

Grace echoed his thoughts. "I'm serious. I need you," she continued. "Which was why I was the one who pushed for you to learn about the truth. The others were less inclined to tell you the entire thing. Only fragments of the story."

If he had to guess, Mira had probably been the most opposed to him learning about this.

"I... appreciate that," he murmured. "Yeah, I do," he said, more sure of himself.

"Y'know, even when I'm in Unova, I'll text you every day."

"Obviously," he said. "Call, too. Although I guess every day might be difficult with the different time zones."

"Know what you'll do when this year is over?" she asked. She was staring in the distance, as if she saw something he didn't.

"Stay in Sinnoh. Go through the Circuit again," he said. "Pauline will want to do it too, and Emilia has her contests."

"Thought you'd say so."

She turned her face away from him for a few seconds, then let out a long exhale. He'd told her that he wasn't coming to Unova, but she had probably still held onto hope. Denzel held out a hand, wanting to pat his friend on the shoulder, but she recovered quicker than he thought she would.

"How's Sylveon doing?"

Denzel's Pokeball felt heavier, at that moment, and the scar across his shoulder tingled. He still needed to get used to that.

"Good. Wanna see him?"

His best friend beamed. "Can I?!"

There she is, Denzel smirked. Being all gloomy didn't fit her. He released Sylvi next to her, and the fairy type flinched when he saw Grace, who immediately crouched to look into his eyes. Sylveon's ribbons moved erratically and stuttered, a sign that he was nervous to see her.

"Hi Sylvi!" Grace said. "Long time no see. I missed you."

She placed an arm against one of Sylveon's ribbons, and he relaxed right away. Empathy, Denzel thought. That way, Sylvi would know she wasn't lying. Grace asked him plenty of things, like if he was eating well, or if he had reconciled with Denzel's Pokemon. There were no questions about Pauline or Emi, because Grace was worried about Sylvi. This was his time, and the fairy type enjoyed being pampered. Seeing Grace have a full-on conversation with Sylvi was a lot weirder now that he knew the exact reason why she could do so. All this time, he had thought her to just be talented at picking up body language or specific words.

Eventually, the topic turned to training. Sylveon was doing a lot better for himself, and traces of his deficiencies had all but disappeared now that they had found a fragile equilibrium.

"Sylvi was always better at glamour than Princess," Grace said. "Arceus, Hatterene's going to be so pissed when I visit her. We haven't progressed at all on that front."

"Actually," Denzel raised a finger. "From what I understand, your Moonblast is different than ours. That means Princess uses glamour to shape hers the way she wants."

Grace's eyes widened. "Really? What's your Moonblast like?" she asked, turning to Sylvi.

"Not complete yet, but almost there. We'll have it mastered by the time we fight Wake," he explained. "But, uh, ours doesn't do all of that gravity stuff. It captivates the opponent and stops them from moving by blasting a wave of apathy at them. Kind of like what he can do with his ribbons, but on a bigger scale. So yours has a lot more destructive potential, and ours is more, like, utilitarian, I guess."

"That's so cool!" she yelled. "So is every Moonblast different? Damn it, Be—Hatterene! I bet you she's so full of herself that she considers every other Moonblast 'not proper' or something. That's the only reason why she wouldn't have brought this up."

"You know her a lot better than I do," Denzel said.

"Either way, I'm going to have her get Princess up to speed with glamour when we get here. She'll probably ask for something in return, but I'll just wrangle it out of her."

"Why yes, why don't you wrangle information out of a fairy that's centuries old," Denzel snorted.

"This impaler... what is it called again? Meme?" Mr. Sandy started with his usual raspy voice. Decades of smoking did that to a man, and the fact that he had pronounced 'meme' 'mehmeh' was not lost on Melody, but she kept her face straight. "It's very hip with the younger generations. A bit crass, but we can make it work."

"There is some opposition," Mr. Smithson added. "Especially from older trainers. Plenty of Conference goers have spoken out against her, and it's generating some bad press."

"You either love her, or you hate her," Mr. Sandy said. "There is no in-between."

"Permission to speak?" Melody asked.

"Granted," Remington said.

"There is a point to be made in the fact that her tactics are brutal, but they're also exciting. No one else does it like her," Melody said. "And isn't that what we want? So long as it only ruffles a few feathers and we have our PR team working twenty-four-seven on this, we can make it work."

Remington smirked. "Exciting... yes. That certainly is the case. I cannot remember a time when Poketch had this much attention, and more younguns are buying phones and watches than ever."

Melody smiled. His word was as good as law on the board. "I can have my team spreading it online as soon as this meeting is done."

Not that she needed to, when it was spreading so quickly but any boost in engagement would help.

Remington nodded. "Good, good. She'll ask for a raise as soon as she can, no doubt. Try to... guide her toward the right direction. We can't start paying her Craig's salary right away, not when we'd have a rebellion from our other sponsees on our hands."

Craig's salary? An exaggeration if there ever was one, but Remington liked to amplify statements to prove his point. If anything, Grace would probably ask for less than she was worth. She still didn't know how to value people as assets.

"Of course, Mr. McMillan," Melody answered. She wasn't committing to this idea, but nodding and agreeing now and attempting to change their minds later would be easier than a confrontation right this moment.

Poketch's CEO grabbed a stack of papers and adjusted his glasses. "Now, regarding the transition. Since Grace Pastel has agreed to meet, we'll need to prepare to make things as smooth as possible so our stock price doesn't take a hit. You'll have to prepare her for a news conference, then we'll have our design team start work on merchandise..."

Remington rambled on, and Melody hung to his every word.

As much as she disliked these wrinkly old men, she wanted this to be a success.

—

"I can't hide anything from you, can I?" Abel said with a teasing smirk.

You know this already, Xatu answered. The psychic's eyes shone, and she snatched the half-finished cigarette out of Abel's hands, smothering and compacting it until it became ash. You said you would quit.

"I say a lot of things I don't mean," he laughed.

This is not a joking matter. We are talking about your health.

"Relax, Xatu," he sighed, releasing one last trail of smoke out of his mouth. "I needed to decompress. It's almost time."

Mr. Backlot had been a good patron. An excellent one, even. He was, after all, the only rich prick crazy enough to host Abel in his home. The man was so obsessed with rare Pokemon that Abel had him biting out of his hand. He was currently in a room he had concealed with Malamar and Zazza's help, far away from all the Pokemon he had captured. Oh, they were still in the mansion, hooked up on all kinds of Candies until they lost their sense of self. The ones Backlot kept were not, of course. They needed to stay clean, because otherwise how else would the fatass be able to look at and enjoy their presence in his makeshift underground zoo? Rare Candies were terrible, but they also made Pokemon grow faster. Much faster than normal. It was unhealthy as sin, but Backlot's patrons needed them high and docile, and more power meant flashier battles, which was always good for the Game Corner's pitfights. Abel had only been in that VIP area once. Not that shabby place they hid down the stairs, but the real VIP area that was even more elusive. These people were without morals, and he hated every single one of them.

That did not mean he would not work for them. It was just business.

Until it wasn't.

"How's our little project going?" Abel asked.

Zazza has fed her enough information to have her act on her own. It will be soon, Xatu spoke. She closed her left eye and peered into the future. Things are proceeding as planned, but the odds of everything falling into place for us are pretty low.

Their project was in Pastoria, at the moment. One of Backlot's recently hired hands that they were manipulating, and she had chosen a very annoying target that had forced Abel to experiment with the limits of Malamar's abilities. Still, even if his shot in the dark had worked so far, Abel was not going anywhere near Pastoria. It was not because Mira Compton was there. The little runt had just caught him off-guard, and for that, she had his thanks. He had not been this close to getting caught in years, and the close call had allowed him and his Pokemon to improve leaps and bounds to fill the gaps that he now knew they had. Miracle Eye had been one, something Hypno had been working on for years, but never prioritizing, and there were plenty of new tricks as well. How else would they be hiding the massive Pokemon prison in this mansion?

"No choice in the matter," he said. "If this succeeds, we can get back to Unova. I have a bone to pick with Clarence."

Your quest for revenge will be the death of you.

"Honestly, Xatu, when have I not slipped away from a jam?" Abel smirked. He sat on the luxurious bed. Was that velvet? He didn't really know.

Abel had grown up poor. So poor that his mom had him eat cereal with a fork to save the milk for later. So poor he'd only had one pair of shoes that he had worn until his feet hurt from growing up. So poor his mother had drowned in medical debt until she died of lung cancer.

She'd been a smoker.

Even through all of his dealings and all of the money he had earned, he still couldn't live like he wanted to. Not when the money could be tracked. He could launder in small amounts, but not the sixty million he had stocked in Unova and the few million he had in Sinnoh. He had spent quite a few months gathering all of it, and now it was all here, in this room. The only place he'd be able to spend in large numbers was Alola, but unfortunately, his retirement would come far later than he wanted. Clarence needed to die first.

"Legendaries, I can't wait until we get to Alola. Xatu, do you want a yacht or a resort?"

You do realize that by bringing up retirement so often, you are taunting the strings of fate to string you up and hang you?

"Can't a man daydream about what he wants?" he asked with a hint of amusement.

Then, he paused.

"Do you hate what we're doing, Xatu?" Abel asked.

Not particularly, the bird answered. The Pokemon we captured are unfortunately just collateral damage. That is how business goes. I have done far worse for you, and I will keep going. Why would you ask when you know the answer already?

"I don't know," he shrugged after a pause. "Zazza hates it, and she keeps letting me know how much she hates it. It weighs on me."

None of his Pokemon were good people. They were criminals, just like he was, save for Dan, who was too young to understand the magnitude of their actions. They had injured, killed, stolen, destroyed, burned, looted, mind controlled when the time demanded it, but for Zoroark, this was personal, which was why they were going to fuck Mr. Backlot on the way out. To do that, however, they needed to screw over a lot of people first. Mind controlling him into confessing wouldn't work. Backlot would just hire lawyers to use it as a defense when all was said and done and wriggle his way out of things by saying that he had no control over his actions the entire time. Abel had never backstabbed someone who paid so well, but Zazza demanded it because for her, this was personal. Their actions had doomed many Pokemon to hell, but at the very least they would cut off the flow as soon as their plan kicked into motion and they left. The poaching had been happening even when Abel had not been hired, but on a much smaller scale. Backlot had been doing this for years. Honestly, Abel did not care much for the Pokemon suffering, but mostly for Zazza's state of mind.

Xatu spoke into his mind. Of course. She's the one who has to do most of the work, and she hates pretending to be human. She also knows how it feels to be abused. Still, now is not the time for doubts. If everything goes well, Mr. Backlot will—

"Yes," he said. "I know. We'll manage."

We always do. Somehow, you have found a way to consistently beat the odds, Xatu said with fondness in her eyes.

Abel snorted. "We're slippery."

That, we are.

Abel trudged through his room, passing by his suitcases full of cash as he rubbed his bare feet on the soft carpet. He peered through the window and saw sprawling gardens and fountains. The property was surrounded by massive hedges, and those hedges were surrounded by massive walls. Paid guards were everywhere outside of the walls. Most of them knew about the poaching. In fact, before Abel had come, they had been the ones hunting rare wild Pokemon to drug up and send to the Game Corner for profit. Sometimes, trainers' Pokemon were stolen too, but on much rarer occasions. Of course, his arrival had sped things up dramatically.

Abel had so expertly masked the hidden section of the mansion. Even inspectors from the League a month ago had found nothing.

Servants worked day and night to preserve the garden's beauty.

They truly did good work, didn't they? The Pokemon Mansion did look beautiful at this time of year, with all the flowers blooming about.