Memo’s so caught up in the feeling of Alex behind him and the grip slowly squeezing the life out of his body like he’s the last bit of toothpaste in the tube that he doesn’t have the chance to direct Gabriel-- but the Salamance takes matters into his own hands. One second he’s struggling to breathe above the water and the next they’re pitching downwards, Gabriel couching his wings to slice through the air as they shoot like a dark through the center of the northern whirlpool.
Those that entered in front of them are vague shapes in the gloom. There’s the shock of wetness from diving in the ocean and the push and pull of the force of the whirlpool-- but after a few moments, it feels different. Strange. Like they’re no longer going forward-- and then the squeeze in his gut where Alex is clinging for dear life really does turn into his body into a toothpaste tube.
He feels like a sock that’s being turned inside out, like a hand has been pushed down his throat and is gripping the bottom of his stomach, jerking forcefully to tug him skin-side-in. At some point, through the pain and the-- the
squish, he registers that Gabriel is no longer beneath him, but he doesn’t have the wherewithal to panic. There’s pressure around his midsection that could still be Alex, but it also could just be whatever the fuck is busy spatchocking him like a guinea hen.
Then his feet are on the ground and he’s windmilling his arms out to his side to stop from pitching over. The dizziness and nausea fades, and Alex is there, a comforting weight at his back. Still gripping him around his waist, enough to make his hipbones hurt, but he grips Alex’s arm in turn, white-knuckled, waiting for the stars in his eyes to burst and go away.
They’re in a mess of blue and light and shadow-- what Memo would imagine the inside of a computer would look like, if it were its own world. He rotates his head in a slow circle-- unable to really move because of the vicegrip at his hips-- and picks out a few pink spots that he slowly recognizes as Porygon.
A million questions running through his head, but he tilts his chin back and looks up at Alex.
“You doin’ okay?” In all this craziness, that was the most important step.
His attention is drawn by the logo assembling itself in the air before them; then the pale guy with the wacky hair--
how much does he spend on gel?-- begins to speak.
Most of it might as well be in another language, but the part about future responsible for the destruction of all universes hits him like a rock and makes him clench his teeth.
Feels bad, man.
He looks down at the bar of light flying beneath their feet, wincing at the brightness; then he looks up, with the glare in his eyes still fading, at the dome slowly assembling over their heads. He squints at the riddle, mind churning. He doesn’t have long to ruminate before there’s the characteristic
tseew-tseew of lasers being fired.
Someone else--
kyle lopez , but he doesn’t recognize the voice or know where it’s coming from because there’s a lot of shit going on-- says it out loud first. Memo’s mouth moves at first but no sound comes-- then he clears his throat and forces in a painful breath.
“Data,” he answers-- and no, he isn’t just copying everyone,
thank you very much-- before managing to extrapolate Shivani’s Pokeball from his belt.
“Did everyone make it through okay?” he asks those in his immediate vicinity, voice still slightly strained. Around them, protects go up, and people start firing back at the Porygon.
Sorry, Alex, he thinks, releasing Shivani into the space directly next to him.
“Run some interference?” he asks, and she nods, phasing out of existence to appear elsewhere on the platform-- a safe distance away from Alex, who she is very aware does not like her-- and fires off a powerful
THUNDER at a Porygon.
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tl ; dr- memo asks the important questions
- checks on everyone, releases
shivani the banette - answers the riddle with
data- shivani shifts to the far side of the platform and uses
thunder on a porygon