June rolled her eyes, unamused by Howard's descriptive idea of what an average HPS delivery went like. Not that he was wrong-- if anything, he got it nailed down all the way to them driving off a cliff-- but she didn't particularly care. Not any meanness or cruelty to the plight of Howard, but she had heard the exact same argument before. "Oh, please June, you believe in the HPS to get anything done at a reasonable time and safely?" They always said.

So far, her count made it 6.86/10 that after someone said that, they revealed a package filled to the brim with either narcotics or a really bad ass weapon. The former had a massively higher fee depending on product and the latter she didn't deliver for a god damn reason. People liked to think themselves clever, for better or worse.

"I don't mind delivering for so called 'criminal masterminds', I care that you might try to stiff me," June explained. Unlike Howard, she did not have to worry about some looming figure constantly over her shoulder at every waking moment. In return, she tended to look the other way to those kinds of people. Sometimes. "So please do. I don't know if you read it on my ad, but narcotics average around a shit ton more than the normal fees."

While Mr. Slayte opened the package, the delivery girl would simply stand where she had planted herself and watch. Hopefully the threat of financial ruin would keep the guy honest. Did that classify as cruel and unusual punishment? Probably. Oh well.

---

howard slayte

"I see..." June trailed off. Sounded like a massive pain in the ass, the way Howard explained it. It also sounded like he knew the pains of the process plenty well enough. That bit about the one writer and 'literature class' went way above her head, though. Not terribly interested in those sorts of books.

Speaking of, she simply shrugged her shoulders in response. "Don't need a class to learn how to deliver a box. Only hard part was getting my name out there and to the right people. You can pay people to figure out the legal stuff, which took care of most of the problems. Pay is pretty fine, though, since I do it all myself."

Of course, she also didn't have the crippling obsession to ancient artifacts, but that felt like an elephant in the room more than anything else. On that note, the delivery girl crossed her arms. "And since we're being honest, it's a little odd that a person like you would ask for a person like me to deliver something I presume is like the dozens of other things you have in here. You read my ad, heard about the stuff I can get from point A to B, yea? That or you got a fuck ton of drugs in this box. Or some grenades Or a sack of rocks. Get fake orders with a sack of rocks often. Anyway, point is, if it is another artifact for the collection, why not just send that stuff through the regional post office?"

Man did she hate the fucking fake orders of rocks. How the hell did they even get her contact info, and why was it always rocks?

---

howard slayte

"Oh! There's a speech for that," June said. In truth, she had literally no idea what else to say. That tidbit of information didn't get her any closer to... never mind. Now certainly wasn't the time for this sort of thing. A side note at best. Focus on the reason she came here: to make sure Matchstick didn't get stir crazy. Which, when Josh mentioned a race, got June's attention further. A race? She didn't care for the bragging rights that they brought, but her pokemon thought differently.

As soon as the word 'contest' left the gym leader's lips, the delivery girls bird brought its head up. Eyes locked on and narrowed on the trainer. Every single muscle in its body stood still, motionless at the utterance of a test of speed. That had gotten the full attention of at least one of the two that faced him. June, on the other hand, shrugged her shoulders. "If Matchstick wants a race, then looks like we have to race. Odds are that you win, but either way I'll be happy. So long as this idiot right here is, at least."

As she rubbed the neck of the Talonflame underneath her, she re-adjusted her position on its back. "You'll have to lead the way, though. Don't exactly know where this 'Multiplex' is."

---

Josh Devlin

"Oh, I can time my attacks pretty quickly," June insisted. "I can be pretty slick with my Brave Birds. Trust me, I know what I'm talking about."

"CAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!" Matchstick interrupted. The pokemon rocked back and forth to throw off her trainer's mental train of thought. That, or it was getting desperate for more movement. While June got her bearings back, the pokemon would continue to shuffle itself in place. Yep, it wanted to get to the open skies real bad.

"Anyway," she ignored the Talonflame's movement for now, "I can't really speak about how well you're doing, but you're probably doing a good job! You've got, oh, a dozen or so people down there just for this class! With you, probably. Not due to the-- ok, forget what I said. I'm sure Katherine and John are proud of you. Don't know much about that 'avatar' business though. What, you get a really important pokemon to notice you or something?" She asked. While the question seemed innocent enough, her attention got strangely focused on Josh and his possible explanation. As if she was trying to feign innocence while very much wanting an appropriate answer. 

---

Josh Devlin

"Oh, that makes sense!" June said. While she would personally prefer a shorter review, the analogy got the point across all the same. "Who knew these 'vases' could be so... nice? I guess?"

However, that brought another question to the forefront of her mind: how the hell did they know this guy was actually a good king? And how the hell did they even figure out this language? How long ago was this? Did anything those people did matter in today's world? 

As June's head spun she leaned on the table, careful not to touch anything on it. "Geez, this stuff seems complicated. And hard. Where did you go to school? How the hell do they teach you stuff like this? And how did those people learn how to teach you this sort of stuff? How the hell do you learn a language no one speaks?"

Unfortunately for Howard, there was a little more to June not asking questions about the stuff she delivered: she had a tendency to get distracted. Very easily, as it turned out. This girl had been in the apartment for maybe five minutes and was already starting to try to learn more about things that even he himself didn't think about! Splendid! He got the feeling that the bombardment of questions wouldn't end here if he decided to play along-- though, maybe that wasn't a bad thing.

---

howard slayte

"Huh? What do you mean '200-level' or '300-level'?" June asked Josh, eyebrow raised as high as she had flown. She looked back to the rest of the group, only to see that none of them had flown up to their platform. They either focused on the other teacher-assistants, looked amazed at her as if she had done something extremely cool, or rolled their eyes at her. Had she shown up for the wrong class afterall? 

By the time she returned her attention to the gym leader, he had started to talk about material covered in other classes, and even mentioned some guy she had no idea who was. "Woah woah woah, slow your roll. I've done loops and inverted flying but... 'Quick Attack'? Yea, Talonflame tend to do that." 

In response, Matchstick let out a high pitched chirp and cocked its head to look directly at her. "What do you mean, girl? You've gone pretty fast, yea? And you've used moves when going pretty fast when I'm on your back, yea? I think that would count as a 'Quick Attack'."

The pokemon did its best to signal its despair at the denseness of its trainer before returning to face straight ahead. Clearly, this had not been the first time its tried to convey this sort of message. Based on how annoyed it sounded, it would certainly not be the last. 

"And who is this 'John Sullivan'?" She asked him. "Was he the guy before you? Your mentor or something like that?"

---

Josh Devlin

Ah. That'll do it alright. From the sounds of it, Mr. Slayte was simply doomed from the start. Getting invested in pricey merchandise was one thing, but to have it be the thing you study for a few years at a place of higher education... would drain anyone's wallet. Especially one like this. June nodded along to his explanation, her eyes glued to a particularly interesting piece.

It wasn't anything particularly crazy, just an old-looking vase. Perhaps nicer looking than the rest of the artifacts, but the main appeal were the numerous glyphs carvings into the upholstery. She pondered what could be so important as to mark into such an item, and more importantly, how it felt to her skin. There was always the undeniable urge to touch stuff like this, but she refrained from acting on said urges. 

After Howard's plea, she shuddered. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I wish this was the worst it got. Not that what you got here is particularly bad, but... ugh."

But which one was the worst? There was that one person who was unhealthily invested in those animated figures on those streaming services, another who had a bajillion jars of preserved pokemon parts, a half-dozen people who offered obscene amounts for her to stay the night, but none of them--

"Ah fuck," June shuddered, "No, you're pretty tame. Just remembered a time when... actually, probably shouldn't say anything about that. For legal reasons and, well, personal ones. Anyway, change of topic, you got any idea what these symbols mean? On this jar?"

---

howard slayte

June rubbed the head of the creature, got onto its back, and let it take the lead. First impressions were... disappointing, to say the least. Each step rocked her around the mantle, and he barely managed to keep on with a strong grip onto it's body. Certainly not the worst ride she's had, but far from the ride of Matchstick, or even her proper motor bike. As they got on the closest track proper, she realized that she was in it for the long haul on this awful ride for a minute or two. Maybe she shouldn't have eaten lunch early after all. 

But then, everything changed in the blink of an eye. As the Cyclizar sped up to a proper speed, it utilized its air sacs to gain the 'wheels' necessary for its record speeds. Gone was the rough, juttery movement. Replaced with the all too familiar smoothness from her own ride. The wind whipped through her hair, quickly transitioning from a gentle breeze to a full blown assault as it simply went whichever direction it did. It felt odd without her helmet on, but she would be lying if she said it wasn't a pleasant experience.

But the most important thing to her, the speed, had yet to show itself. The straight away had given it the time to reach a typical speed for the course, but then the pokemon went faster. Their first turn felt wonderful, the second exhilarating, and the third? Downright dreamy. That silky smooth ride with excellent speed and some honestly decent control gave her a nice surprise.

Much like when the pokemon decided to stop its manual crontrol. That guard rail only grew bigger and closer!

"ffffffuuuuuuuuuuuUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU--"

Instinct took over, the kind she had when on the wings of her own pokemon: she took the metaphorical reins and steered the Cyclizar. Around the bend and not right into the rail that would do very awful things to their bones and limbs. Far from clean, but a turn nonetheless. Right into another. Then more obstacles and turns. They had gone so far, but there was still plenty of ground to cover. Even if June hadn't run this course in a while, the general path had been burned into her mind. No conscious thought could've helped her on this track anyway. While muscle memory steered them through the bumps and blocks, her mental space echoed two thoughts at equal strength:

"THIS IS AMAZINGGGGGGGGG!"
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA--"

Child-like wonder and the existential dread of being just one slip up away from a grave clashed jarringly inside her skull. Appreciation and relief for each bend they didn't run straight past. Wonder and anxiety from just how fast they ran the course. Thankfully, these emotions would dwindle in scope as they rounded the last turn and came back to the straight away. Whether intentional or by sheer luck, June had done the course and not gotten either of them seriously hurt! 

That, or the Cyclizar had only given her the illusion of control. Whatever the case, she pulled back on the living bike to signal a stop. Sure enough, the pokemon did just that. After such an adrenaline rush, as well as the sudden decrease in speed, her head spun on an axis. Right after the Cyclizar stopped completely she half-stumbled-slash-half-fell onto the ground. A blank, blue-and-white canvas greeted her as she tried to get both the world to stop spinning and for her stomach to not eject all its contents. Was that the teacher again, back down early from lunch? It was hard to say. 

"I swear... I'm fine... teach'!" she called over faintly. 

Was that them? June squinted way above her head, unsure of what that figure was. It took a few moments for realization to settle in: that was them! Her teacher! A Talonflame of their own, which made quick work of the descent. A person hopped away from the pokemon and came up to the delivery girl. 

"Oh! Well. Sure! I'll just. Wait here. For forty-five minutes. Yep. Totally..."

Her brain screamed at the top of its 'lungs'. There was no way she had shown up this early! Usually their class met at... wait, no, it started after... but surely she would remember that...

Man, it had been quite some time since she'd been here. How long? She tried to add up the weeks in her head, but she stopped soon after she started to get to a very uncomfortable number. A large number. Maybe that's why Matchstick seemed so aggressive, as it continued to wriggle around in its ball. More restless than last time, anyway. Unfortunately, she too felt that restlessness. The student had come ready to get right down to business, not wait around. Even if she explored the grounds herself, it would do little to quell her 

At least Josh's pokemon seemed nice! They mulled around the area, mostly keeping to themselves. They might've given her a glance or a curious stare but didn't make any moves towards her. All except one of the Cyclizar. It slowly approached her, which caused her to put a foot backward. She'd seen plenty of the things in the region, but she'd never actually seen one this close. Much more lean and spry than June initially thought, but still muscular all the same. A lot longer, too.

June raised an eyebrow to the pokemon People always told her that she should really 'invest' in a Cyclizar but... was that really the right choice? Her bike worked plenty fine, and gave her something throw all her money to in order to keep in tip top shape. This was a tried and true pokemon, flesh and blood. Not a money sink, but a time one. Perhaps more importantly, however, was the nature of the beast. Machines could be replaced with money; these could not. 

"Well, look at you," she said to the Cyclizar. "All... whatever the word is! Wonder how fast you can go..."

She had seen the comparisons to other vehicles and the like. Average speeds, top speeds, the whole nine yards. It always seemed impressive, but it was no surprise that those sorts of statistics always had outliers and cherry-picked results. If only there were some way to--

There was no way she'd get away with something like that, right? Absolutely absurd. Sure, the entire reason she was here was to go really fast and race, but to use someone else's pokemon while they weren't around...

"It wouldn't hurt to go for a quick warm-up lap, yea?" She asked the Cyclizar. She reached over to pat it on the head, in her own careful yet curious way. 

Another day, another delivery! June looked down at her phone while she absentmindedly climbed the stairs two at a time. Client lived in an apartment building, and had ordered something on the heavier side. Either this guy was yet another 'comedian' who thought it rather funny to order for packages filled with rocks, or they were looking to get in shape themselves.

Dingy lights illuminated the stair well as she breathed deeply. This place certainly wasn't a looker, yet it was certainly not the worst place either. Better than whatever the hell she called 'home'. It smelled decently too, like those two star hotels you'd rent out in the middle of the night to finalize some shady deal with even shadier individuals. Except June wasn't shady at all, neither was this place, and the recipient didn't seem terribly awful either.

The little she knew, anyway. Where the hell was 'Howard' again? She stopped on a particular floor, which matched the one from her e-mail. She stepped forward and examined the doors. No, no no... oh, that one! Hadn't been too far from the stairs. This guy must be pretty lucky to score a deal like that! She had to be on the top floor at the very end, and yet these people were not but a hop, skip, and a jump away! 

June walked up to the door and knocked lightly. "Hello, Mr. Slayte? Got your delivery here. For... whatever the hell you got!"

If they had labeled the box or sent what was inside, she didn't bother to look. It wasn't a weapon and that was about all she needed to know. Less she knew, the better. Even if she wanted to do nothing more but tear open the packaging and see what the hell they ordered.