[attr="class","spiral"]Lillian stands a few feet from New Mauville's entrance as Magneton descends into the Voltorb-laden power plant. The pokemon has its marching orders, there's no reason for her to risk her safety voyeuristically watching them carried out. While it does its job she takes some time to do her own -- she can probably bust out a work email or two before it's back.

Unsupervised, but hardly needing supervision, Magneton surveys the repurposed city with its three eyes. The Voltorb sit stress, sick, and short-circuiting all around the floor. Without hesitation it approaches the nearest small cluster and gives out an ugly cry to catch their attention. The high-strung pokemon roll in close to assess and deal with this new threat. That's part of the plan.

Small steel balls slowly form on the Magneton's special appendages as they close in, and the moment the Voltorb are close enough each in the approaching crowd is struck by one of them.

The MAGNET BOMBS latch on extra tight to their supercharged targets before going off. The explosions aren't very large, and the damage isn't massive, but the sudden spike in adrenaline is enough to push the already panicking Voltorb over the edge.

Lillian looks up at the sound of several SELF-DESTRUCTS before turning back to her phone, glad things are going smoothly.


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[attr="class","spiral"]Lapras swims up close to the shore as Lillian approaches and picks up the pokeball containing her new addition. While she puts the ball away she gently pats the pokemon's face and neck. It gives a little trill, pushing its face harder into her hand.

"Yes, you did a good job. Great accuracy and reaction times," she praises her Lapras in a soft voice. There's still more review to be done, though. The Pelipper didn't even put up a fight. Searching for a fresh target takes her back within a couple feet of the stranger. Lapras follows her, swimming along the shoreline.

As they draw close Lillian idly looks towards the young woman (who watches her own pokemon). Lapras takes notice of the Prinplup and begins to slowly float around its position in the water -- eyes sharp and full of intent. Lillian whistles, getting Lapras's attention.

"Leave it alone," she commands after shaking her head, "Find something wild."

Lapras reluctantly floats a little ways away from the Prinplup at that, making its way instead to a conspicuous group of passing lily pads. An ICE BEAM at one of them reveals them to be a group of the Lotad line. The Ludicolo she irritated with her attack drifts from the group to properly engage.

"Watch the group!" she shouts from the beach as Lapras dodges around a ZEN HEADBUTT. Surely enough, other members of the floating family have broken off to support their comrade, "Put them on ice!"

As they draw close Lapras begins to SING, filling the air with soothing music that begins to lull the surrounding enemies. Their approach is slowed enough for it to time its next move. The air around it seems to almost thicken as the moisture within it begins to crystallize. it's the only warning the small group get before a SHEER COLD freezes them and the water in the space of a second.

"Bring me one!" she shouts again before looking towards the younger woman, "Apologies for my volume, I hope I'm not disturbing your hunt for friends."

After offering up her monotone apology she walks closer to the water and watches Lapras drag a stiff Ludicolo to the shore. Once its deposited in the sand she places a pokeball to its crispy forehead and watches it vanish in a flash of red light.


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[attr="class","spiral"]The call for help is early even by Lillian's standards, but it's hard to tell that where they've gathered to help the poisoned Ludicolo. Multiple trainers using SUNNY DAY fill the barely dawn-lit landscape with light. While she nurses a coffee her Growlithe jumps from one Ludicolo to the next, happily repeating its recently learned move.

"Hey! Heel!" she calls to it and it (somewhat reluctantly) walks up to her side before sitting down in the grass beside her. It stares up at her for a few minutes while she sips her coffee.

"Okay, go," Lillian lets it run about again once she believes it's proven its patience well enough. It instantly begins running to places the light has begun to dim and refreshing the SUNNY DAY there. It's not the cleanest assist she's offered the League in these trying times, but if they wanted her best they would have given her a few more hours of sleep.


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[attr="class","spiral"]Picking up trash is not Lillian's idea of a fun and productive day off, but good press is good press; and with her Growlithe at her side it's not like it's a complete departure from how she would have spent the day otherwise. If she wants to try and become a figure in the region in her own right this time around she needs to be seen helping. She needs to ingratiate herself to the League and the people.

And what says "humble servant" more than cleaning a beach?

"Growlithe, fetch," she says the words while gesturing vaguely at the garbage-covered shoreline. The pokemon has had ample practice learning this command. Tongue out and wagging it runs along the edge of the water looking for something relatively safe to put in its mouth.

It comes back with a can that Lillian spears with a stick before shaking off into the bag at her side. A few moments later and it arrives with another one.

Between her own efforts and the Growlithe's they've already made good progress clearing a block of the beach in just their first ten minutes on the scene.

[attr="class","spiral"]"Don't worry, I noticed," Lillian nods slightly as she responds to the younger woman's confession. She can't say she's much better at making conversation, but she also can't say she much cares. Smalltalk with random strangers is a waste of time more often than not. It's a skill she's never seen the point in cultivating.

Once again the other woman seems to struggle for something to say. While she does that, Lillian notices a few passing flying-types. Stragglers from a flock most likely. Pelipper, a couple Wingull, a good opportunity for some quick battle practice -- and not a bad pokemon to pick up either. The stranger picks that moment to pipe up.

"It's a public beach, I won't complain."

It's a brusque response in favor of capturing this passing opportunity.

"Lapras! Pick one!" she shouts the demand across the water and Lapras's gaze shoots skyward. Following its mistress's command its eyes roam over the small group of flying-types before it fires an ICE BEAM at one of the Pelipper. Its wing FREEZES on impact and it begins to plummet. Its fellows move on, seemingly oblivious of its plight.

A WATER PULSE shatters the ice on its wing, freeing it but not undoing the damage. To that end it attempts to land on the beach and ROOST for a quick recovery; but before it can set talons to sand it's met by another ICE BEAM to the side of the head. Tired from flying and caught off guard by Lapras's ambush it hits the beach unconscious, kicking sand into the air with its crash landing.

Lillian takes a few leisurely steps in its direction before chucking a pokeball at its still body.


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[attr="class","spiral"]It's hard not to reconsider this whole public service thing when she steps onto the football field. Multiple blinks of her eyes keep them clear, but there's not much she can do about the foul smell or taste the acrid air carries. Not much but to deal with the source. She sends out her Donphan as soon as she sets her eyes on the rampaging Muk.

"Rollout," she chokes out between grit teeth. A second after her command the Donphan hops up, rolls into a ball, and starts rushing down the field. ROLLOUT gives it more and more speed as it skirts around toxic puddles and draws closer and closer to its target. Lillian watches carefully, hoping it won't take much more than this to put their target down.

[attr="class","spiral"]The next time she runs into a pokemon on her ride it's alone, but much more of a roadblock than the Bonsly had been. The Growlithe shoots out from a bush to the side of the path and begins barking and growling immediately upon spotting Lillian. She tries to ride around it and it cuts her off. She considers changing course and it follows her. All the while its ears and fur stand on end.

"I am tired, move," she says, voice low and icy. Of course it doesn't so much as flinch. It's a wild pokemon, not one of her party members. It hasn't been put through the rigors that teach a pokemon why they ought to listen when she speaks. Whatever. She doesn't have time to reason with the thing. Reaching behind her to a different set of holders she pulls out one of a few pokeballs.

Bright, white light shines and her Butterfree appears. Lillian points at the Growlithe.

"Naptime," she commands with the voice of a parent scolding their toddler. Butterfree is quick to respond. A dusting of green powder slowly covers its wings, and then with one strong beat of them it scatters and falls forward through the air. The Growlithe barks as flames lick at its teeth -- a FIRE FANG that might be threatening were it not so quickly snuffed out by the SLEEP POWDER falling all around it.

The Growlithe is asleep before it even gets a chance to attack. Lillian stares at its crumpled body on the ground for a moment before sighing. The pokemon vanishes in a flash of red light.

[attr="class","spiral"]"They're smart. A bit hard to keep in line, but quick learners."

It's hard to say those traits make Lapras all that special, their intelligence is hardly unique, but it makes them especially useful certainly.

"I don't specialize, it's a pointless self-limitation," she throws the comment out off-hand. When silence follows it for longer than expected she looks to the stranger and finds her squirming, seemingly uncertain about something. It's hard for Lillian to bite back a sigh when she finally speaks up again.

"You're not interrupting, but I could do without the awkwardness. If you'd like to say something, say it. If you'd like to leave, leave," Lillian's reply is blunt but not cruel. There's no malice in her words. She's fine hearing the younger woman out, but not if she's going to have to wade through a million pauses and apologies to get there.


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[attr="class","spiral"]"Yes sir!" Lillian has rarely been so eager to fulfill an order. As the cave crumbles, and vines and fire fly, she can't think of anything she'd like more than getting Fernando and herself out of here.

And yet despite her desires she finds herself in a spot of deja vu. Like when the cave collapsed she's in a position where there's stimuli and threats all around to track, but unlike the moments after the cave collapse there's no real opportunity to stop and breath. So she doesn't. There's no plan and no time to plan so she puts as many successful decisions as possible together and moves to brute force a way out.

"Magneton, scout! Machamp, defend! Cloyster, take care of troops and any straggling debris!" Uncertainty colors her thoughts, but somehow her words come out clear and confident. Her pokemon show no sign of picking up on her discomfort and jump into their designated roles. First is Magneton who takes up point, eyes shining a familiar red. LOCK-ON analyzes the threats between them and freedom from the cave in the hopes of allowing Magneton to act as a reliable guide.

Machamp takes up its original position between Fernando and Lillian and places it's four hands above them in a tight rectangle that expands out into a familiar WIDE GUARD. The same kind of umbrella that covered them when they entered the battlefield what feels like days ago at this point.

Meanwhile Cloyster uses its odd means of locomotion to slowly orbit them, eyes scanning the surroundings for approaching threats and the sky for attacks missed by Machamp. It readies ICICLE SPEARS to deal with anything hostile -- animate or otherwise.

"Let's go!"

+ Lillian agrees to find herself and FERNANDO SILPH an exit path
+ Magneton uses LOCK-ON to help guide them safely out of the crumbling warzone
+ Machamp uses WIDE GUARD to cover Lillian and Fernando as they retreat
+ Cloyster looks for approaching threats or falling debris with the intent of ICICLE SPEARING them
+ Lillian shouts for Fernando to follow her before starting to retreat

aI0mshWm

[attr="class","spiral"]It's childish, but all that frustration gets Lillian pedaling harder than she know she ought to. She rears up on her bike and pushes at her limits just to vent the leftover feelings from the war, the days after, her dreams last night. It's stupid and she knows it and it leaves her suddenly struggling to continue riding her bike at all. It's sheer luck that a passing parade of Bonsly give her an excuse to stop.

She puts a foot down to act as a temporary kickstand and drapes herself over the handlebars. Her arms hang over the tops, her back bends to allow her head to rest between them. This is another problem. Her head. She can't keep it as clear and steady as she was always able to before. She's so quick to anger, to panic, to sentiment. There's so much noise all the time.

It takes real effort to wind herself back down every time. Even now she needs to take an extra thirty seconds after the Bonsly pass to suck down water and smooth out her breathing. Her body complains as she straightens herself back up in her bicycle seat but she ignores it. This pain is the price she pays for getting worked up. She's going to finish this route.

Her half-empty water bottle is put back in its holder behind her seat and she's back to it.