Lady

Entry #1

While it's often the case that the Pokemon Trainer is the one who teaches their Pokemon, the opposite is true for Lady and Callan. Lady is Callan's best friend and an irreplaceable part of his family. While he cherishes all of his Pokémon in equal measure, Lady holds a special place in Callan's eyes for being the Pokemon who first chose him at a time where he needed it, and the one that gave him the realization that it's never too late to start over.

Callan first met the rambunctious dog at Slateport Park, several weeks after the official divorce proceedings. While sitting alone and eating a parm hero, Lady wobbled over to seat herself down beside him. Callan fed part of the sandwich to her, before heading back to his house, at which point, the Yamper decided to follow him, and continued to follow him for the next two days until he went down to the police station and realized she had no owner. In so doing, he purchased a pokeball for the first time in eighteen years, and began to raise her as his own dog.

While raising the dog, Callan was unable to go back into his life of permanent insobriety and chainsmoking. Every day, he woke up at 7 AM, and was forced to walk his dog. He had to clean his house and do his laundry, otherwise his dog would bite holes in his underwear. He had to feed himself appropriately, because he was forced to visit the Poke Mart every week for more Pokemon Food, and he grabbed groceries along the way. But most of all, he saw the way his daughter's eyes and Lady's lit up as they met each other for the first time, and knew he had made the right choice.

Lady was also sensitive to his electric guitar, and whenever he played his music, would send the dog into a sweet slumber, allowing Callan to once again develop a passion, and dreams, of making it in the world of music. To Callan, she is representative and knowledge that there is still something good in the world, even if it is indifferently cruel at times.

Callan's Yamper Food Recipe

Entry #2

I don't have a story behind this, it's just cheaper to make your own Pokemon food than buying good kibble. 

Makes about 10 Servings, multiply for more:

5x Cups Brown Rice.
5x Cups Beans.
2x Pack SmokePoke Tail, diced. (Or 3 lbs of any ground meat, if too pricey.)
1x Bob's Food Tin. (Optional)
1x Fancy Apple, diced.
1x Galar Masala mix.
1x Vegetable Medley. (Peas, Carrots, Zucchini, Spinach, frozen is fine)
5x Pecha Berries.
2x Sitrus Berries (Or as many as you like, nutrient bomb).
1 tbsp Carbos. (If I can afford it.)
1 tbsp Protein. (If I can afford it.)
Salt to taste.

Preparation:
1.) Put everything in a blender.
2.) Blend.
3.) Use the oven to dehydrate the food significantly or have your Pokemon use Freeze-Dry on it.
4.) Put it in a plastic bag and store in your freezer until mealtime.

Serving:
1.) Thaw out your Pokemon Food and rehydrate with stock or water until it reaches a curry-like consistency.
2.) Reheat the Pokemon food.
3.) Season if it's too bland.
4.) Optionally, you can top with rice, leftover veggies or beef.

Only for mammal or humanoid Pokemon. I don't use sugar for the curry as the apples and the Pecha Berries are more than sweet enough. If you do any battling, you might need to adjust your food to the needs of your Pokemon with more protein, but I'm a ranger and this is more than enough for my own team.

DEBUT SINGLE

Entry #5

Becoming Closer to Closure Is the debut single of Hoennian Rock band TERAVOLT, formed by Guitarist Callan Young and Vocalist Adrian Malcolm . It was released May 2022 under Violet Records.

Callan Young first wrote the song and riffs based on the insomnia he had experienced after his first divorce, but found that his electric guitar overpowered his vocals. Young had consigned this song to be a concept until he discovered Malcolm's talents while searching for a Vocalist in the band.

"His voice cuts through my electric guitar, and it brings a raw, destructive feeling to the song while maintaining melody. I think that's more important than people realize, because he has such an amazing voice, I can go all out with my electric guitar without fear of drowning the song."

In terms of musical style, the track is described as pop-punk, alternative metal, and post-hardcore. Teravolt's new album is scheduled to release sometime in Summer 2022.

Field Incident Report

Ranger's Rising Report on the events of Cyberchase Conundrum

MEMORANDUM FOR HEAD RANGER Laurence Anderson

FROM: ELITE RANGER Callan Young

CC:

1.) COUNCILWOMAN
Elinor Anderson

2.) CAPTAINS:
boruta maher, ollie morales, Izumi Yamamura, Tam Fawley, LANCE VOLLANS, annalise henderson, & Guillermo Marceliño

3.) ELITE RANGERS:
Sénon Game, Kaida Adachi, & Razz Kingsman

Introduction

This informal field incident report is in accordance with the purpose of describing the events of Mirage Island's separated pocket ("The Cloud"), by request of Head Ranger Laurence Anderson, written and copied to all relevant Ranger Captains and Elite Rangers, after the Ranger Meeting in Lilycove City as at August 6, 2022.

This brief will cover to the best of my knowledge, the events that occurred within The Cloud. This serves as a means to understand the specifics of both Hoenn's present situation as well as potential futures for Hoenn and more abstractly, the universe with which we live in.

Entrance into Cyberspace

Approximately around mid-July, Mirage Island manifested between the water routes of Pacifidlog Town connecting to Ever Grande City and Sootopolis Sea. Within this approximate location, four whirlpools denoting the four cardinal directions could be found. By the coastline of Mirage Island, a riddle was provided, followed by suggested instructions to 'enter' into one of the whirlpools. One particular individual successfully solves it and enters into the Northern Whirlpool, with the rest of the group following suit.

Entrance into cyberspace is not without significant physical pain. A sensation of being physically stretched and crushed to enter into a hole was felt by most, if not all members. This was accompanied by sensations of time, space, color and vision blending into nothing, before landing in what I can can only be described as a 'cyberspace', imagine blocks of data twisted and arranged into intricate shapes that stretch as far as the eye can see, as if it were haphazardly arranged by the mind to make some semblance of what was being seen.

Upon entrance, an individual who later introduces himself as Maldacena greets and provides a backdrop of information regarding the location. This space, is known as 'The Cloud' and serves as a backup plan for our particular universe which aims to repair anomalies which exist within our current reality.

He further identifies that those who were within the Cloud, were individuals that the DRK TRIAD deemed to be responsible for the destruction of all universes, and that it is the goal of the DRK TRIAD to execute the individuals within in order to prevent this destruction. He further elaborates on his personal disagreements with the methodologies of the DRK TRIAD members and that given Hoenn is an 'origin point', he is willing to provide a chance to test our resolve. What this 'origin point' is, will be explained later.

The goal as Maldecena explains, is to move past six different terminals and to shut them all down, override the platform and be transported back to the physical dimension. Once the explanation is done, the 'test' begins.

The actual events of the test are rather immaterial. The group as a whole is attacked, each individual platform produces its own puzzle, often incorporating the use of legendary Pokemon in order to pass with a great degree of difficulty. Many that fail the trial suffer consequences, including maiming or loss of Pokemon. The conflicts are significant, but no one is lost by the end of the six terminal challenge.

Deciphering the Files

The Files given from the riddles themselves however are more interesting to note.

To begin with, clearing a 'terminal' rewards the group with a file. The files themselves are cryptic, displaying only graphs and images with little explanation. However, after some accurate deductions between contributions from the members of the group itself the answers are provided by narration from the voice of Maldacena. The narration itself has several key points, which I will provide here. Please find them attached, with a brief description from Maldecena from my memory.

Our Universe (coined Universe 820) is the 'origin point' of a cataclysmic event that will destroy all other universes.

Our universe is curving with other dimensions, shifting out of place due to multiple stressors. Maldecena notes mega-evolution, extradimensional travelling, the existence of avatars, and dimensional tampering, are all contributing factors into the causes of this origin point. Maldecena likens our interferences as our universe expanding outwards, like a growing bubble, that collides against other bubbles, allowing us to travel to and move between universes, hence the ability to travel to 'Sea!Hoenn', for instance.

Once our Universe is destroyed, the universe itself contracts the fabric of multiverses, causing death to move quicker across all other dimensions. Maldecena further explains that the origin point is our region, Hoenn. The orange shows contraction of the universes pulling together. Note that Universe 490 is previously accompanied by 820, our universe, and in its place is Universe 491. The orange in the previous graph seems to relate to the 'removal' of our universe. This suggests that the resultant energy resulting in the removal of our universe is somehow collapsing the dimensions around it, as will be shown in the next image.

The graph shows the destruction of the universes 490 and 491, as a result of the contraction caused by Universe 820's disappearance. Maldacena states that the end is 'swift' with no chance of recovery. Further 'contractions' between universes will occur, speeding up the deaths of universes all around.

Brief Summary:
By Maldacena's interpretation, our Universe will die based on a cataclysmic event that will occur in Hoenn, which is the origin point for a contraction that will destabilize the universes around it, further inciting catastrophic events throughout all universes. However, it is important to note that this may not necessarily be true, as Maldacena will prove that he is not omniscient in the future.

Past, Present and Future Terminals:

As with the previous terminals, the group is attacked as we attempt to solve the riddles provided to us. There was an aparent moment of conflict between members of the group, hwoever I had moved on ahead and did not see this occurring.

What is more important, seemingly, is the events that occur between the terminals. While I was in the Future Terminal, it seems that each terminal indicated an event that would occur in their namesake's timeframe.

1.) The Past Terminal is undiscernable, but showed the creation of something. Unsure, as I was not there.

2.) The Present Terminal showed Dialga and Palkia surrounding the dome of energy that currently surrounds the region of Hoenn, attempting to break it free. Something apprehends both legendaries, in the shape of skeletal hands with golden fingers of light. Again, this is testimony from firsthand witness, I am not sure of the events there.

3.) The future terminal shows a world of dead people. Volcanic ash is apparent, as if Mt. Pyre has erupted, this may a potential future situation. The following legendaries are seen dead, from memory, they are" Xerneas, Kyogre, Groudon, Zekrom, Artricuno, Yveltal, Lugia, Ho-Oh, Giratine, Reshiram, Darkrai, the Alolan Guardians, Suicune, Mesprit, and more. I assume these are legendary Pokemon related to Avatars or potential future Avatars.

After solving the Terminals, our group re-emerged in the Main Terminal. Maldacena informs us that the group has successfully passed the test, but 10 trainers must sacrifice themselves in order to save the rest. Utimately, the chaos is ended by @ mars, who is seemingly awakened as an Avatar of Unown, recreating lost data and restoring the cyberspace around The Clou. The reversion into the real world is a manifestage on Mirage Island, with all bodily parts and Pokemon restored.

Conclusion

1.) The universe in which we live in will ultimately succumb to a cataclysmic event that will occur in Hoenn. This event will cause a destructive chain of events that will cause the destruction of all universes in the future.

2.) The members of the DRK TRIAD are attempting to prevent this, and have set up the wall across all of Hoenn in an attempt to destroy us to prevent this from occurring.

3.) In the near future, a vision was shown of Dialga and Palkia attempting to disrupt this border, only to be restrained by an unknown figure.

4.) In the far future, a vision of an eruption was shown, as if Mt. Pyre had exploded, alongside the deaths of many legendary pokemon related to known Avatars.

5.) The future is not set in stone. It is likely that these are predictions, rather than actual events that are predetermined to occur.

This concludes to my best effort the events of the Cloud Incident which I could remember. With regards to the events occurred, it may be pertinent to utilize what we know to prepare for potential events that have been predicted by Maldacena.

Oranges and Ketchup 1

Entry #6

The door to the principal's office swung open under Callan's touch, revealing the opulence that lay beyond.

Marble columns stretched on, gleaming under the wash of crystalline windows.

Mahogany-paneled hallways echoed with the muted chatter of unseen students.

Each classroom he a testament to technological advancement, a pane of interactive holograms. Sleek, digital interfaces.

The mess halls cavernous, their vastness dwarfing the sizes of Pokemon Gyms.

But Callan's gaze was drawn to the office ahead, an imposing chamber that could easily have doubled as a luxury suite. He couldn't help but feel out of place, in his rumpled chinos and floral shirt.

The principal, a stern figure in a crisp suit, eyed him with thinly veiled disdain. Yet, when his daughter saw him, her hazel-red eyes lit up. It was a sight that made every hardship fade away, if only for a moment.

"Mr. Young, thank you for coming," the principal greeted. "Please take a seat."

Callan's lips pursed into a thin line, the taste of the last night's bender still lingering on his tongue. The ache of a migraine fringing on the corners of his skull, creeping upwards. He gave a curt nod, then sank into the plush chair across from the principal.

Just half an hour ago, he had received a frantic message from his ex, Jen, urging him to pick up their daughter, Lio.

The panic in her voice had been enough to cut through his own apathy, propelling him towards the school.

Lio, his five-year-old daughter with black and white bangs, sat beside him.

Her legs twitched in a rhythm all their own, a silent testament to the nervous energy that coursed through her, always an undercurrent.

Callan reached out, giving her arm a gentle squeeze. The twitching ceased momentarily.

He offered the principal a weak smile, "I'm sorry for the delay. May I ask what this is about?"

The principal took his time, adjusting the cuff of his shirt before finally meeting Callan's gaze. His hands clasped together on the desk in front of him. The lotion did nothing to mask the weathering of the age.

"Thank you for coming in today, Mr. Young. We had an... incident involving Lio and another student."

Callan's brows furrowed. And he swallowed the bitter taste that had suddenly filled his mouth, his mind racing with possibilities.

"What kind of incident?"

The principal leaned back in his chair, his steel-grey eyes never leaving Callan's. "It appears there was a physical altercation between Lio and another student. This isn't the first time something like this has happened."

Callan could only nod, a subdued breath, as if an eventuality slips out of him like an exorcised ghost. His throat going dry in the process. He felt Lio's tiny fingers curl around his, her grip surprisingly firm.

"What happened?" He asked, his voice barely a whisper.

The principal sighed, his fingers drumming a steady rhythm on the desk. "We're still piecing together the details, but it seems that Lio initiated the altercation."

"I see."

What followed was a blur of political backwash, the coax of comfort to soften the oncoming blow. It was mired in sycophantic platitudes, soft praises, courteous gestures. But in the end, the blow came.

The principal suggested moving Lio to a different classroom, even hinted at the possibility of transferring her to a different school. Callan listened, his mind reeling from the onslaught of information.

He thanked the principal, standing to shake the man's hand. The principal's grip was fleeting, his hand slipping from Callan's grasp all too quickly.

"Thank you for understanding, Mr. Young," he said, standing to open the door. "I've arranged for Lio's work to be sent home with her today. We hope this incident can be resolved as smoothly as possible."

The principal's words hung heavy in the air, like a thick fog obscuring Callan's thoughts. His fingers closed around the stack of papers thrust into his hand. Homework, no doubt, a reminder of the educational day Lio was missing due to her sudden suspension.

His other hand found Lio's, his fingers interlocking with hers. She looked up at him, her hazel-red eyes wide and uncertain. He squeezed her hand reassuringly, forcing a small smile onto his face.

The principal's voice echoed in the back of his mind, snippets of their conversation replaying like a broken record, the insinuation clear as crystal.

Their departure was met with the same frigid politeness that had welcomed him. The principal held the door open, his stern gaze watching as Callan led Lio away from the office, their footsteps echoing in the deserted hallway.

As they walked through the grandeur of the school, the marble and mahogany now seemed gaudy, the classrooms too sterile, the mess halls too impersonal.

The facade of the elite institution crumbled under his eyes, the illusion of perfect education shattered.

Once they were outside, Callan crouched down to Lio's level.

His hand cupped her cheek, thumb brushing away an errant lock of her hair. The world was a tumultuous sea around them, but in this moment, he found solace in her innocence.

He didn't need to ask her what had happened. The answers lay in the hollow echo of the principal's voice, in the tension that had been strung tight in the air of the office. Instead, he pressed his forehead to hers, a silent promise hanging between them.

Oranges and Ketchup 2

Entry #7

Lio planted herself down in the classroom, her small feet swinging in the air as the chair was a little too tall for her. She had the distinct sinking feeling you get when you know you're in trouble.

She had neglected her homework once again. Not because she'd forgotten, but because she had chosen to spend her time engrossed in cartoons on TV instead of doing her homework. She looked up into the kind eyes of her favorite teacher, Mrs. Leighton.

"Lio," Mrs. Leighton's voice was gentle but firm. "You know you're supposed to do your homework."

"I did it," Lio fibbed, "I just... left it at home, Mrs. Leighton. I'll bring it tomorrow, I promise." She could hear the murmurs of her classmates, their voices low and disapproving.

Mrs. Leighton gave a small sigh. "Alright, but remember, you must do it this weekend, or there will be consequences."

As soon as Mrs. Leighton moved away, the fear that had gripped Lio began to fade.

With the school day over, she ambled out of the classroom, heading home. She wondered why she even tried. If only she could be more disciplined, more focused, maybe things would be different.

Maybe the little voices inside her head wouldn't be so mean to her. They wouldn't keep her up at night with their cruel words.

But another part of her, a part that was always feeling hurt and resentful, refused to listen.

She went home, had dinner, watched some cartoons, and then fell asleep. Although, her sleep was often interrupted, reminding her that she was no longer at her old home with her old dad and Lady, her pet dog.

Instead, she was in this new school, where the kids had known each other for years, whereas she felt like an outsider.

The next morning, Lio woke up early, as she always did. She felt tired and groggy. She managed to haul herself to the bathroom to brush her teeth.

"Behave, young lady," her mom's voice echoed in her head, followed by the sound of her stepdad's soothing voice, "You're too hard on her, Jen." She often ran to him when mom was upset.

She grabbed her backpack and rushed to the front door, where mom adjusted her uniform. "You're a bit disheveled, dear," she said, fixing Lio's collar and ribbon. That simple act made Lio's heart flutter.

"Sorry, mom," she apologized before saying goodbye. As she left, she took a moment to inhale her mom's familiar scent of perfume and the smoky smell of cigarettes.

It comforted Lio, making the walk to school a little less daunting.

The school day was uneventful, with the polished marble halls and mahogany classrooms filled with kids from well-off families. The worst of them all was Sophie, all three feet and five inches of her. She was a pretty girl with an ugly attitude.

"Good morning, Granny," Sophie mocked in her sweet voice.

Lio ignored her, not wanting to think about her black and white mop hair.

She sat next to Andy. "Morning! You look tired, Lio. What happened?" Andy asked, looking at her with concern. Lio just sighed and looked down at her desk. "Nothing..."

The day went smoothly until the final bell rang.

nstead of everyone leaving together as they usually did, the children splintered off into their own small groups of friends. Lio realized how quiet it was then. Usually, it was Tony who picked her up after school for tutoring. Today, however, it was supposed to be her mom's turn.

But her mom was nowhere in sight when the bell rang.

"Hey, granny!" Lio heard the familiar tone of Sophie's voice from behind. A quick about-face revealed Sophie, a teasing grin playing on her lips, as she leaned against the locker with the ease of a child at play. "What, Sophie?" Lio asked, her voice betraying a hint of apprehension. Today was not the day for a tussle; she yearned for the soft comfort of her bed, where dreams could transport her to a world less cruel.

Sophie responded with a giggle that sounded oddly innocent and mismatched to her usual antics. She pranced over, each exaggerated step a performance in a play meant only for her amusement. Her two sidekicks from Class 1C shuffled behind her, their eagerness to join in on the mockery written across their faces. The thought of Sophie initiating the torment made Lio's heart pound in her chest.

"Gotcha!" Sophie blurted out, the words laced with a misguided sense of joy as she tugged at Lio's hair. Lio bit her lip, holding back a cry; fleeing would only spur them on.

She kept her gaze on her scuffed shoes. She could always just tell her mom about falling over and hurting herself. They were just girls playing, that's all. Lio thought, as they continued to mock her Yamper pins and snap her pencils. Somehow, saying that over and over, it made her feel better about herself.

Seeing Sophie's actions, the others joined in, scattering Lio's school supplies across the cold linoleum, their tiny hands rummaging through her belongings for something to ridicule.

"Stop it!" Lio whimpered. A sudden push had her back against the chill of the lockers.

"Why's your hair all grey? You trying to be an old lady?"

"She's just trying to be different," one of the girls piped up.

"No," Sophie retorted, her voice taking on a tone of pretentious wisdom far beyond her five years, "It's 'cause she doesn't have fancy stuff like us. Didn't you hear? Her mom left her real dad 'cause he had no money. So, she's the kid of someone who's poor, and... and a whore." The girls' giggles filled the air, soon fading into a culled silence.

Lio saw red.

"What's a whore?" one girl asked, her voice barely a whisper.

"Um...," Sophie stumbled, caught off guard by the question, "It's someone who's... ugly. But, who cares?! She's just not like us, she doesn't belong here!"

There was a limit to what most kids would do - pull hair, scatter school supplies, make fun of others and their families. They did this for fun, so it had a limit.

But for Lio, there was no such limit.

She pounced on Sophie, watching herself in third person as she belted out a primal shriek. Pain no longer registered in her, neither did the weak swings against her face. Her fingers clawed against Sophie's skin, tiny fists balling into hardened balls and hammering away at her nose.

In a matter of seconds, one of the girls tried to pull her off, "Stop! Stop Lio!" She called out, while the other ran to get a teacher.

"What's going on here?!" Mrs. Leighton's heels echoed sharply in the hall. Lio turned to see the teacher standing over Sophie's crumpled form on the floor. It took a moment for the pain to register, but when it did, Sophie scampered behind her teacher, too much in shock to even pretend to fake-cry.

Lio's small fists were still clenched from defending herself against Sophie. "I was... she-- I--..." Lio stammered, her cheeks flushed bright red as tears welled in her eyes.

"Please... help me," she whimpered, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own heartbeat pounding in her ears.

The sound of more footsteps approaching made Lio tense. "What is the meaning of this?!" Lio felt her arm being yanked back forcefully. She looked up to see the stern face of Mr. Ainsley, the principal.

Oh.

I'm sorry mom.

Lio thought, as she stared into those pitiless eyes.

Oranges and Ketchup 3

Entry #8

Callan remembered the first time he held Lio in his arms. From the moment Jen had said the words "I'm pregnant," to the moment he first held her tiny form, there was a fear that overwhelmed him: "How can I be a father if I'm not someone who's grown up yet?"

In a hospital room, clutching the hand of his wife, whose nails had dug into his skin as the room smelled of disinfectant and waste. His memory sketched the weariness in her eyes as she cradled their newborn daughter. And the seismic shift within him when he first held Lio, her fragile form challenging his unpreparedness.

The boy inside him died that day, and something else emerged. Dreams of a music career, replaced by the budding need to look into the future, to look into himself, look at the world at large. In every child, he saw the hazel-reds of his daughter's own eyes, reflecting back at him like planets.

And so they settled. Callan put down his guitar, broke away from his friends, and left Mauville City for a fresh start.

His guitar collected dust as he served drinks to locals in a tiny corner of Slateport, his dreams of a music career fading in the reflection of his daughter's red eyes. The world had crumbled into a 300 square foot studio, a loan, and a bartending license. It was shaky at best, but even that didn't last.

A fragile existence, shattered when the Blacephalon struck, leaving his bar in ruins, and his dreams of even normalcy for Lio crushed.

He didn't blame Jen. Not really.

Who could ever blame someone for not wanting to starve?

Who could ever blame someone for not wanting to live inside a lightless tomb, forgotten in the smoke and rust?

Who could ever blame someone for living with a numb, empty drinker?

Who could blame someone for not wanting their daughter to live on "cheesy peas" and "peanut butter bombs"?

When Jen first admitted she'd been seeing Tony, it didn't surprise him. Life was hard enough as it was that he knew he had lost her. He could see it in her eyes, the blame, the anger smouldering underneath, at herself, at him. Arguments blew up in the middle of the night after months of silence, only to be quelled by the stirs of Lio's crying or knocks on the door of their non-soundproof studio. Love only goes so far; passion only fuels the fire when there's something left to burn. And they had both burned out in their twenties.

When they got the divorce, Callan understood. He watched blankly as the lawyers gave him their sheets to sign off. This is for Lio. He told himself. She will never go hungry again. He told himself. He scrawled his signature on those settlement agreements, the words invisible to him. The lawyers said something about "visitation rights", "allocation", "custody".

But he knew what the actual contents read. In the mire of legalese, it was a heartfelt letter:

Dearest Cal,
You worthless, penniless failure. Poverty stricken fuck.
Lio and I are leaving you.
We head for the lands of happiness and love.
Don't come and find us.
- Jen and Tony.

And so, here he was. Walking with Lio, completely silent, tears in her face, hair messed up, walking out of the school and into the car. And a single day of visitation this time around.

"I'm sorry." Lio said quietly.

"It's not your fault," Callan replied, wiping away a few tears that escaped from her eyes. "They hurt you, didn't they?"

"Yes." Lio said, with a sniffle.

"Then I don't care what they say." Callan fastened her belt, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead as he started the car, a small victory in his heart. A selfish victory. Because if there was one thing he could do that her mom and new dad couldn't, it was being able to put the spark of life in Lio's eyes.

"Hey, wanna go somewhere fun?" Callan grinned.

"Where?" Lio asked.

"Top secret." Callan waggled his eyebrows and eliciting a giggle from Lio. "Let's shake off this school dust." Callan pressed down on the pedal.

Callan's fingers found hers - a lifeline in the bustling ocean of the Pokémon-themed Ren Faire.. The air vibrated with laughter, the aroma of sizzling festival foods curling around them like a comforting hug. Lio's grip tightened, her eyes wide as they darted around, drinking in the vibrant spectacle.

At the Pokémon Jousting arena, they stood shoulder to shoulder, their gazes fixed on the gallant trainers atop their fiery Rapidash and earthy Mudsdale. Callan felt her hand squeeze his in shared excitement, a silent echo of their awe.

Next, they were bathed in a flurry of flower petals, courtesy of a Braviary's Hurricane. Lio's laughter, light and carefree, hitched in her throat as the petals rained around them, her delight tangible.

The artisan market unfolded before them, a kaleidoscope of color and creativity. Amidst medieval trinkets and Pokémon curios, Lio's gasp was music to Callan's ears as she found a wooden sword and shield set, carved with familiar Pokémon. He watched her excitement, her eyes bright and cheeks flushed. Without a second thought, he bought it, their playful battles for the rest of the day a melody to the Ren Faire's symphony.

As the sun set, Callan drove to get her takeout, sneaking packets of pepper, salt, milk, syrup, and ketchup in the meantime.

"Can I have one?" Callan asked, his gaze fixed on the golden fries in Lio's hand.

"No!" Lio's laughter chimed in the air, the corners of her eyes crinkling with mirth.

Unfazed, Callan's eyes darted to the kitchen, a mischievous glint in them. "Aww... hey, what's that?" As Lio's gaze followed his, he seized the opportunity and swiped a fry from her.

"Made you look, nerd," he cackled triumphantly, the stolen fry disappearing into his mouth.

"Hey!" Lio's pout was half-hearted, her indignation undermined by the teasing sparkle in her eyes. "You're a fry thief!" Her voice was a mix of fake outrage and giggles.

"Not just any fry thief, young lady. I am the Hamburgler... And I... want... your burger!!" Callan moves to tickle her as he attempts to fake-steal her half eaten cheeseburger. After a momentary tussle and a pinch of her cheek, Callan ruffles her hair and lets her be. "Let me know when you finish. I'm going to eat in the kitchen."

The next day, after having Lio finish her homework, Callan took her to a nearby arcade, and as the day settled, they returned home and he had Lio show him all of her favorite Poketube channels. By the time Jen's butler arrived at his front door, Callan felt the tightness of Lio's hand gripping against his pinky and ring fingers. "I wanna stay." She whispered. Callan felt the twinge of victory within him.

She'll be alright. Callan thought. She's unhappy, but she'll be fine once she grows up. "Hey, you'll be back next weekend right?" He pinches her cheek, kneeling down to kiss her forehead. "Go on, go back to mom."

He had no memory of what Jen spoke about with him in the few minutes they spent exchanging pleasantries. But he did remember the moment he stumbled back into his apartment to have his dinner.

It was a lonely affair, a moldy orange quartered and a packet of ketchup his only companions. Yet, in the bitter taste of his meal, he found a strange solace.

It'd always be the taste of fatherhood.

TERAVOLT - Sails