"It just...doesn't suit ya. That's all." Which is no proper reason to hate something. Hate is a seed that takes root and corrodes the soul, planted there by ruinous intent. His bright eyes focus on the implicit task, to find something, anything. This place was useful, once. A meaningful place, where meaningful things happened.[break][break]
Kartana float up to the murals of their once great leaders. They chitter and tell a story among themselves, a story for no one but them. Even if the human and his hunting hound find no joy here, these strange Pokemon find a reason to laugh. A quick shh from their leader sets them back to silently floating.[break][break]
"When you use your Doublade...the look in your eyes is so pretty. Focused. Really cool. Like a samurai, doing what he's gotta do for his Daimyo." Language and its intricacies do not come easy to him, but he tries. "The ice...you look scary when you use it."[break][break]
While the dog bares his soul, he finds something. It looks odd, like some great tool used by these aliens for war. A black ball sits atop a great brass spiral.[break][break]
"...the hell's this?" His hand squeezes the ball. A loud sound pierces the silence.[break][break]
The horn drops, a dog draws his sword.[break][break]
"Shit! They're gonna be coming now!"

His only response is a nod. Darkness is an assassin's friend, and the dog drapes himself in the stuff. His Senpai, even cursed, is glorious. He makes short work of whatever has the poor fortune of being in his path. While he basks in the kill, the human's hunting hound creeps through the quiet corners of the chapel.[break][break]
Floating just beneath his scarf is the Kartana. They have been training together for close to a year now. They know one another, know the signals and all the choreographed routines that led to optimal outcomes. Ahead, just before the stairs, is a dead thing. Black crystals cover much of its body, but the dog spies a weakness. A small, sharp whistle sends the paper blade out. The tiny thing flies into the body like a missile, piercing the flesh.[break][break]
It dwells in the throat, silencing any gurgles there, choking the thing on its own blood before destroying the brain. Flying out, Kusanagi returns to its master, already advancing to the stairs. Amber eyes float to the frost blade.[break][break]
"I hate that sword, Senpai. Your other one's better."[break][break]
Words whispered as he ascends the stairs.

"Yeah." His response to the younger man's question is coated in bashfulness. He's come to understand how wrong the names he remembers are. The embarrassment is just another growing pain.[break][break]
"Dav Barcode. The one with the black armor and dead eyes." As unflattering as his description of Zev Harcourt is, the dog's tone implies respect. He knows strength, and that one is stronger than the other beasts, and not because of any armor or blessings.[break][break]
"Wonder what we'll find here." Words spoken as he steps into the church. Whatever symbols of worship lay within are foreign to him and lost upon him. What matters to him are the shambling creatures, all facing forward, looking up at the alter. They groan prayers that are head by killers instead of gods.[break][break]
"Wanna take 'em out, or sneak by, Senpai?"

Joy is absent from the dog's world when blood sprays the white ground. Blood, in this business, marks one's passage from this life to the next. His opponent did not deserve to die. By all objective metrics such things are judged, she has more of a right to life than he does. She slips into unconsciousness, with only a Pokemon to stop him from taking the final blow.[break][break]His packmates are preoccupied, his leaders fighting their own vicious wars. Humans blessed with the power of gods bicker like the heroes history will remember them as. It will little remember the bloodstained maw of a dog.[break][break]Amber eyes look down, fixated on the edge of his sword. It watches the blood drip. It would be so easy to press on, so easy to kill. A life ending and a life's continuation are separated by a few pounds of pressure to the right spot with the right tool. All he has to do is take that step, apply that pressure. Her story will end.[break][break]But he can't, and he doesn't. There's too much blood on his hands already, too many who deserve life while this dog obliviously trots through life.[break][break]So, when he could strike, he turns, and walks away.

"You'll have'ta show me what you've got, then." The dog barks with a mad smile on his face. When she comes at him again, he meets her charge. The only sign of deeper thought is a sharp whistle.[break][break]
Just as she's picking up on his tricks, he's learning hers. If she's going to keep having her Pokemon intervene, he'll do the same. Privately, the black dog of Rocket remembers his checkers matches with one of the Beasts. Proud of himself for thinking ahead, he doesn't consider the notion that the other trainer might well be doing the same.[break][break]
Kusanagi flies in, a precise blade. He means to intervene, sending the electric beast back with a sacred sword. At his side, Hitoshi's blade strikes downward, arms extended. It's a blow that would open its unfortunate victim from shoulder to stomach, if they weren't thinking ahead.

This is his greatest sin, and his kindest act. A girl hardens her heart and resolves to kill a dog. By ripping his heart out, ending one creature's life, she would save many. By holding him high above her head, another might live. It is a path to heroism and damnation, the two entwined with exquisite craftsmanship.[break][break]
This creature, who would spur her to such, feels lower than a dog. Ice beats through his veins, like the creature that haunts jayden cross. Let him be evil, let him be vile, let him be hateful, if that is the kindling this would-be hero needs.[break][break]
His blade cuts nothing but empty air. The stroke comes seconds too late. Instincts compel him to go low. His shoulder absorbs much of the kick, rising to elbow her away.[break][break]
"One trick, huh?" His grin is the wide, toothy grin of an animal. The dog adjusts himself, rising back up. He is at his full height, such as it is, turning to face her once more.[break][break]
"Act like a broken record and you'll be eatin' dirt."

"Nan-" A word cut short by a kick to the chest. It sends him flying back, sprawling through the snow. In this region of battlers, it's the first time he's been personally attacked in so long. Coughing, forcing air back into his lungs, the dog stands back up, a snarl on his lips.[break]
"Oh, man. Good hit, Jamie." Names are lost on this creature of the wilds, but faces he remembers forever. Hers, he'll keep in mind. Instead of whistling, ordering his Pokemon to attack, a flick of his wrist commands the creature to circle. Kusanagi whirls around the two, making interference harder. With all these big names and their legendary beasts afloat in the fight, the dog supposes he can afford to fight this woman.[break]
"Better fight hard." He's rushing her down, blade out. "'Cause after I cut you down, that girl who helped you's next." Guilt pangs at his heart, but that guilt isn't for her. A human prayer comes from the canine heart, that she'll survive. Too much blood has been spilled already, but all a mad dog knows how to do is kill.

"Let me get that for ya." A little known intricacy of the Rocket grunt ecosystem is that many carry lighters. Most of them treat their lungs like coal mines. The grunts react like well-trained dogs, each hoping to be the one who offers a helpful light. This one takes the form of a zippo. Keen manual dexterity brings the lighter up, scorching the tobacco cherry red.[break][break]
It's the least that a loyal stray can do for those who took him in.[break][break]
What comes after isn't much of his business. Yumi's family is, after all, her family. What the women choose to say or not say is their luxury. Without much fanfare, he adjusts from keeping one safe to two.[break][break]
There's only one thing he can really add.[break][break]
"All the goons were more scared of you than the old man." Words punctuated by a smile and warm tone.

It would be a pleasing story, to say every nameless ranger or office died to Pokemon. The twisted visages of Cobalion and his kin prove overwhelming for many. They are not the only danger on this battlefield. While dragons rule the sky, wolves prowl the ground.[break][break]
This creature, clad in warm, dark clothes meant to hide his face, stalks the battlefield. With such a target rich environment, the robots have paid him little mind. Somewhere nearby, a creature from myth emerges in pink light. His amber eyes take in the sight, both for its beauty and the opportunities it affords.[break][break]
There will be people there. Powerful people. Distracted. He prowls on dark paws through the snow.[break][break]
Met by a miniature battlefield, he analyzes. Zev Harcourt taught him to think ahead. Jumping into this will simply see him destroyed by people mentioned in the briefing. Well out of range of Kazimir Wynter's z-move when it was called, he is neither rooted nor drowsy.[break][break]
He spies Genevieve Cromwell. In her, he finds what he thinks is an easy target. Kusanagi, one of his Kartana, slips from his ball. The Ultra Beast flies towards her, both dog and Pokemon hoping the confusion will avail them.[break][break]
"Hey, Orange! Long time no see." With blood on his hands, he hides guilt behind playful words.[break][break]
Kusanagi aims a night slash at the maiden in black.

If he had a tail in fact as well as spirit, it would be wagging. All the fierce tension that held him deflates at the sight of this woman. A wide, toothy grin breaks out across the dog's face. When he is embraced, he returns the embrace just as fiercely.[break][break]
"Yoooooo, Granny! It's been so long!" Whether she is or is not his grandmother by blood matters little to him. She treated him with kindness, and for that he would kill for her.[break][break]
"Yumi, this is Granny. Your old man had me take stuff to her whenever I got a day off. Granny can run through cigs and booze like nobody else." Reaching into his breast pocket, he pulls out a pack of cigarettes. Unovan slims are hard to come by in Hoenn. A good dog is always prepared.

The hand dealt to him is utter junk. 3, 3, 7, 7, 2. Looking down at the hand, he laughs out loud. It's a wide, innocent, carefree grin. He misses the kiss cam entirely as he pushes poker chips across the table. Not all, but a fair few. Enough where anyone who could see what was in his hand would mark him as a suicidal idiot. He simply rides the currents of energy.[break][break]
All the high human emotion traveling around the table like an electric current is lost on him. The ripples he understands. The warmth and scent of so many people bunched together, all mutually agreeing to place their fate in the cards he understands. Elisabeth Fiorelli and BARNABY FINCH 's closeness is observed with a passive face. They look good together, and that is the extent of things in his world.[break][break]
nikkari hect he observes quietly, wondering how long this one will last.[break][break]
"Yo, Yumi, my hand's great!" He laughs, mouth split in a wide, toothy grin. "Do I go to rocket jail for robbing our own casino if I win?"[break][break]
Pivoting towards Steven Campbell , he looks at his fellow grunt with warmth in his eyes. They are, after all, very good friends.[break][break]
"You got that one CD Ride the Lightning? Bet that instead of any chips. That's allowed, right, Admin-san?"[break][break]
It's not a fair trade. He's betting several hundred pokedollars against a CD.