NOW YOU DO

DISARMED BY SEVERED CONNECTIONS

HE REMAINS OBLIVIOUS AS TO HER GROWING INDEPENDENCE AS WELL AS HER ARRIVAL. There are more pressing matters to attend to–things that dwarf the guilty pleasure of sinking into the body of another. It drapes the floor with bread crumbs back into the kitchen. Most of it remains wet, still fresh.

The echoed ringing of the doorbell is left unattended.

“Come in!”

Fernando’s voice carried throughout the empty space of his apartment. The door remains unlocked, in anticipation of her promise. Once the door opens she’ll see a streak of red liquid pooled against the wooden floorboards. The deep saturation of its hue points at the obvious: blood.

It welcomes her with a straightforward path to Fernando’s kitchen. He sits in a chair, teeth clenched, right arm stretched out on the table. Hastily put together bandages cover the wound but streams of blood reveal the source. A Comfey and Clefairy stand on the table, doing their best to assist, but his bicep throbs, pushing more of his life essence to surface as he writhes in pain.

Both Pokemon are caked in red powder. Evidently, they’ve been at this for a while.

Lulu Flint

NOW YOU DO

DISARMED BY SEVERED CONNECTIONS

HEAL PULSE MENDS THE WOUND. Flesh crawls back into place. Skin is grafted from nothingness. But the efforts are futile. For whatever is the cause come to surface as the HEAL PULSE feeds it.

Rejuvenation of the body causes his arm to suddenly writhe. It jerks. Something unseen comes to life underneath several rolls of damp, red cloth. Blood continues to flow profusely.

“Don’t.”

Fernando answers with a sigh of resignation.

“It’s feedback from using my powers.”

The idle sign of MISTY TERRAIN cloaks the kitchen floor. It’s harder to spot with the mess of blood everywhere. He bites his lip as the glitter starts to thicken in a failed attempt to lift the mood and hide the untidiness.

“Those ten years might be shorter than I thought.”

He looks at her pointedly.

“So learn from my mistake. Do not use them unless you have to. Our bodies are not meant to handle these types of alterations.”

Lulu Flint

NOW YOU DO

DISARMED BY SEVERED CONNECTIONS

“BECAUSE I AM THE AVATAR.”

No one alive outdates him. Not publicly known, anyway. The only person who could’ve claimed such a title has long since expired–at his own hands, presumably. For, if he could not have the power then no one will.

At least, if given the opportunity. As their abundance grew so did their appetite for the spotlight. Preying on the loud and boisterous proves much harder than a no-name wretch.

There’s not much else he can do but endure. Without the help of her HEAL PULSE, the arm seems to simmer down. The lack of energy cools the boiling urge to burst. The tea kettle of an issue settles, pitch black between them.

“Looking for a solution.”

His tongue flirts over his teeth in contempt. He doesn’t stop her from wandering about.

“But it won’t find one. There isn’t one. I’m not the first and I won’t be the last.”

Lulu Flint

NOW YOU DO

DISARMED BY SEVERED CONNECTIONS

“IT ISN’T A PROBLEM; IT’S A LAW.”

Pressure dissipates until the blood flow becomes more of a leak than a constant stream. He’ll gesture for his Pokemon to heal him on occasion. Just enough to keep him alive and functioning. It’s a race of trying to last longer than his condition, whatever it may be.

“I’ll be fine in a few hours. I just need to avoid using my abilities.”

He pauses. A pointed finger leads his Clefairy to open a drawer to retrieve fresh bandages.

“I didn’t want you to see me like this, Lulu.”

She’ll be able to hear the scissors cut through the dressings.

“But I suppose it’s a good lesson. Nothing comes for free. We’re not meant to hold these powers. Use yours sparingly and you can delay better than I ever will.”

Lulu Flint

NOW YOU DO

DISARMED BY SEVERED CONNECTIONS

“NATURE’S LAW IS NOT ONE TO BEND.”

Tapu Fini’s Avatar knows better than to disregard the power that blesses him. Even as his undoing, he speaks well of it in front of another. Saving face is the corner stone of deceit.

“Are you okay, Lulu?”

He sits there, bleeding profusely, but still has the gall to question her well being. Her vernacular, in regards to him, is off-putting. Different almost, until he remembers the sensitivity of the subject.

“You still eat. You still drink,” Fernando recants to himself, muffled, unwilling to fight that battle once he hears his own voice.

He stiffens at her question.

“Four? Five times? Once after a shared nightmare, one after the Three Day War—”

Lulu Flint

NOW YOU DO

DISARMED BY SEVERED CONNECTIONS

“INDEED.”

A simple response with little substance. He answers her question while raising several new ones. He knows what she wants but refuses to budge without a fight—or request, really.

His arm goes limp and a sigh of relief comes through. He can feel his fingers again.

Lulu Flint

NOW YOU DO

DISARMED BY SEVERED CONNECTIONS

“NOTHING, REALLY.”

Another dead end; a half-assed lead left to get her to follow along. It’s a waltz he knows well and one he breaks out with a guiding hand.

“Just circumstance. The amount of power I exerted pushed me to my limits.”

Enough clues to tip in Darkrai. Not that he knows it’s there. But with Tapu Fini being the sole bridge between the two, he leaves the subtle hints for them to get the point without explicitly stating as such.

“I don’t remember much of it,” consequences of being culled too quickly.

“But several of us shared that nightmare.”

Lulu Flint