Another day, another Skitty. Another night in a city that insists you can sleep when you’re dead. Navy’s ready to go back to his apartment, lock up, and go curl up with some bad television shows. Life’s good. He’s found his center. He’s happy for the first time in a long time. Hyakkaryōran Tsubaki is out doing her own job, living her own life. She’s taking well to the business. That, too, makes him happy.[break][break]
“I’ll pencil you in for tomorrow.” Navy says to a woman over the phone with a yawn and a wave she cannot see. Afterwards, he hears the line go dead, hangs up, and puts his feet up. Business hours end soon. Fifteen more minutes and he’s out of here. Nominally, there’s nothing keeping him around. It’s a self-ran business. He doesn’t have to be here if he doesn’t wanna be here.[break][break]
But there’s always, always that distinct possibility that someone will walk through the door. A hard-faced man, the wrong kind of woman, the case that makes or breaks him. Despite what he’s slowly starting to realize about himself, he is still nothing but a warrior masquerading as a detective – a warrior seeking proper challenge. The stuff you only get from the truly desperate. It’s why these battles between the League and Rocket draw him like a fly to honey.[break][break]
Just fifteen minutes. He gets up to grab himself a soda from the fridge. It’s a bad habit, drinking this stuff, but he’s got all the weight off. A little carbonated sugar water won’t kill him.


[break][break]

+ Shred

[attr="class","pokeclass"]

[attr="class","credit"]milky

The great detective is on top of things, that much is for sure. Stories written in black and white across these loose notes tell of a man who is hellbent on being in the loop. Movements concerning the legendary Pokemon Palkia are there, along with the fact that he’s been put up to look into this by ‘Illeana’. Anyone who’s anyone would know that’s one of the top League eggheads. Some of it’s hand copied bits from encyclopedia entries. Some mentions places such as ‘ruins’ and ‘craters’.[break][break]
There’s a letter in there, too. The ink is long-faded, beaten away by time like so many things are in the course of history. ‘Gabe’ addresses the detective as ‘Navy’. He asks how things are going. He says he just won Sootopolis City’s gym badge. His excitement is palpable from the tone of the letter. It ends with a simple ‘I love you. – Gabe, Champ in the making’.[break][break]
Reports on the Ultra Deep Sea are there, too. League intel on what happened. How a private citizen might get his hands on some of this stuff is anyone’s guess. Dry observations about the course of the battle. Theories on why the League supply lines and chain of command broke down. One key thing he notes is that there didn’t seem to be anyone with a macro view of the battle.[break][break]
There’s also a mention of ‘her’ and how ‘she’ falls into the rifts even now. Some of the notes take the flavor of research notes, talking about an expedition back into the Ultra Deep Sea. Detective Navidson has kept himself busy. To do this much in such a short span of time implies a man who has gotten no rest.[break][break]
He walks back in without fanfare or cheers or a warning louder than his footsteps coming from deeper in the office. Sipping on a soda, he stops mid-step and looks to the intruder. His gunmetal gray eyes look him up and down. Size up the masked man.[break][break]
And what’s the first thing he says?[break][break]
“Hey.” His voice is even and steady. If there’s fear there, he’s not letting it show. A man that’s been doing all of this isn’t going to be afraid of someone breaking into his spot. “You looking to hire me or kill me?”


[break][break]

+ Shred

[attr="class","pokeclass"]

[attr="class","credit"]milky

He doesn’t have the heart to tell this mysterious stranger that he’s probably not long for the detective business – at least in any capacity as a private citizen. Battle lines are being drawn. Loyalties are being declared. War’s coming to the region they all share and there’s no place for people in the middle. A sea born of imagination and decay waits for him and the girl he has sworn to protect. It lurks under Dewford, in those same caverns where he is sure he has seen this masked figure before.[break][break]
All the same, he looks at this man. Truly looks at him. The edges of him. His face is covered by the mask, but there is an undeniable story in the voice, in the way he carries himself, his posture, the little ticks and movements of his arm.[break][break]
What he sees scares him. Not for his life, he doesn’t believe that’s going to end. No, it scares him for his future. This man’s older than him. He can’t tell exactly how much older he is, but it’s enough to put the fear of Arceus in him.[break][break]
“Well, I figured someone would take me up on an offer for a rematch after Dewford.” He walks over to the chair meant for clients, sits down, enjoys the modest role reversal.[break][break]
“I know a spot better than here. Neither one of us wants to get arrested. Meet me at the stadium in downtown at midnight. I got a guy who can get me in, no questions asked. You don’t strike me as the kind of guy who half-asses anything.” A patronizing little smile settles on his lips.[break][break]
“You’re a guy who needs a fight. You won’t pay me a cent to fight you, but I see it in your eyes – that you see it in me, too. So, let’s do it right. Let me put my kid to bed and I’m all yours until one of our teams is a smear on the stadium grass.”


[break][break]

+ Shred

[attr="class","pokeclass"]

[attr="class","credit"]milky

Somewhere in Navy’s head lies a certain notion concerning the individual who just left his office. As he walks out, all swagger and trendy words, Navy sees him off with a wave. They’re enemies, but he’s smiling at the man. A good fight’s hard to come by, at least when there’s not about fifty other people involved.[break][break]

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He leaves the man on that upbeat note. Means, it, too. Playing it cool, Navy acts like he’s getting back to work. There’s last minute phone calls to check, reports to make. Local PD loves getting in a private businessman’s affairs when they’ve got some overlap.[break][break]

The seed of that notion shakes. It lives or dies in milliseconds. Nominally, the person who just left his office is a criminal. Even if he was just a body hired to fill Rocket’s roster for the Dewford affair, he’s still on their side. There’s no such thing as being in the middle anymore. Neutrality and peace are options Hoenn left in the past. Everyone has to take a side or one will be appointed for them.[break][break]

He could call the cops. Set up a bust. Take the guy in. Ask him questions, find out what he already knows: that he knows absolutely nothing important. This is no underboss, no beast, not even an important grunt. Just a guy who talks tough and wants a fight.[break][break]

Just like him, but on the other side, he supposes.[break][break]

There’s nothing to be gained by calling the cops. He ain’t no rat. Gabe won’t waltz out of his grave if he betrays his principles. One guy will go away to prison, and neither of them will have very much fun tonight.[break][break]

The notion dies. He takes his hand off the landline. Tsubaki soon arrives. They have a nice night. He treats her to dinner at one of the nicer restaurants in Slateport. Navy doesn’t think it’ll be his last meal, but there’s always a possibility. You never know what’s going to happen.[break][break]

Night soon falls on this city. Sunlight gives way to neon. Ruffians and ne’er do wells come out of their holes in the ground like scorpions in a desert getting ready to hunt. Sleep is for the weak and the dead, or so this city says.[break][break]

A phone call gets him into the stadium no questions asked. Navy knows most of the night guards. Graveyard shift security guards couldn’t be assed to bother. They don’t report his opponent, they don’t report him. So long as there’s not too much racket or trouble, they’re fine until morning. It’s easy enough to sell the pigs on a line about tests for an upcoming championship match or something.[break][break]

Dressed in his best navy jacket, looking the part of a champ in the making, he walks out onto the field with two Pokeballs in his hands. He’s on the other guy’s turf, now. He’s had all the time in the world to set up, get ready to put on a good show. He’s just peeking into the older man’s world. Walking across the soft, fresh-mowed grass, he wonders what he’ll see.


[break][break]

+ Shred

[attr="class","pokeclass"]

[attr="class","credit"]milky

He imagines what it’s like to walk across this pitch when it’s full. There’s no spectacle here. Both he and the creature across from him love the spotlight. Why else would they agree to fight here, like this? They could have gone to any old place, had this brawl anywhere on the outskirts of the city. Instead, they’re throwing down in the arena – the place where kings are made and legacies are formed. Hoenn’s gyms are an afterthought, an educational tool. There’s no glamor like there is in Galar.[break][break]

Long ago, far away, Navy was glued to the television sets watching the Galar finals. Sinnoh, Unova, and Galar all had the best League matches. Sometimes, Navy wishes he’d been born there instead. Hoenn is great. He loves his region. He’s not someone who picks up and moves – especially not with how much insanity envelopes this region…[break][break]

It’s good enough, the lights, the soft music. It sets the mood. Mood’s important in battle. He gets into it, losing himself in this moment. No intrusive thoughts. Just there here and now, how to overcome this older man who fell on the wrong side of the battle lines.[break][break]

“Hammerlocke it is. Thought I’d bring out Junior just for you.” The monster he raised from infancy roars as he exits his ball, sand whipping around him. Grass gets caught in the whirlwind. Every slow, lumbering step he takes makes the ground shake.[break][break]

“Galar rules, huh? Big fan of that circuit?” They’re about to send their Pokemon to kill each other, but they can be friendly about the ordeal.[break][break]

His words are accompanied by another Pokemon thrown out of its ball. Roland, a chrome knight from a future that will never be. Inside of him is the soul of a knight who died for his trainer. Carrying on in his name, the Iron Valiant twirls his double-sided blade.[break][break]

The warrior of the future looks to the bug from the past. Raising his hand, he fires off a moonblast, sparkling pink energy cutting a path to the creature. Roland, like his trainer, wastes no time. No order was given.[break][break]

“Looks like we’re up, Junior. Keep up the pressure.” True to Navy’s predictions, the Tyranitar tears the pitch. Ripping the ground beneath his feet, he sends a wall of stone crashing towards both of his opponents. His stone edge slams into the other side of the field.



[break][break]

+ Shred

[attr="class","pokeclass"]

Looks like he got his hands on something down there in the sea of dreams, too. Navy’s metal knight is a creature from a distant future, a ghost of a friend. He paces across the green grass and blasts, firing off rounds of energy that never seem to be quite fast enough for the skittering bug. It wants nothing more than to rush him down.[break][break]

Crazy. Navy thinks. [break][break]It’s like Gabe’s Volcarona. Saw something like that down there with Kouji…but that one was from the future. Another machine. This thing’s like a dinosaur.[break][break]

He’s no scientist. Navy will never be a scientist. Curiosity in his headspace translates to a question: will I have to attack this discovery, or will I have to defend it from others? Deeper questions, dissections, scientific treatises on the subject of what exactly these paradoxes are will be left for someone else. Roland and this creature the egg heads call Slither Wing are here for one purpose and one purpose only: to fight one another until one of them stops moving.[break][break]

All of them are whipped by sands. Junior’s sand stream kick up a sandstorm as he lumbers towards the smaller, lither creature. Everyone, friend and foe, is hurt by that. Navy takes another note. He hasn’t had occasion to fight alongside Roland yet.[break][break]

Looks like the sand’s hurting him. Not steel, then. Weird, considering he looks like a machine. Huh. That moonblast just now. Gotta be fairy. If he’s part fairy, then maybe the other half…[break][break]

It doesn’t matter. What matters is that Roland is sent skidding back. His blade moves to parry the insect, but it can only do so much. Holding the insect at bay, his free hand moves to a clip holding the two blades together. The double-headed blade becomes two single blades, dual-wielded. Historically, not the smartest move, but you wouldn’t know it to watch Roland go.[break][break]

The blade in his off-hand streams towards the creature. Psychic energy makes the blade blow with red light. He tries to cut the creature’s stomach open with a psycho cut. The future has no need for the past. Let it cast off those shackles. …or so a particularly looney teammate of this Rocket would say.[break][break]

Junior simply stands still as he sees the toxic rocker jumping towards him. He is hopelessly outsped. Junior isn’t particularly bright, but his instincts are good. Instincts are what carry you in a fight. Claws oozing poison are coming for him. The creature comes into his domain. The sands do little to obscure their vision in such an open field, but they demand a toll for drawing close.[break][break]

As the jab sinks into his armored flesh, Junior lashes down with a bite that crushes mountains. Stone has been shattered by this jaw. Boulders reduced to rubble. All that biting power condensed into fangs that try to crunch into the Toxtricity.[break][break]

“You picked the wrong gig.” Navy teases from across the battlefield, unsure of whether the other man can hear him or not.[break][break]

“Ya got style. You should’ve just fought on the side of the angels and gone pro.”







[break][break]

+ Shred

“Hell no!” The detective chuckles over the battle. How they’re able to hear one another is a little miracle of Arceus he’s not planning on questioning. “League and Rocket are just two gangs. Ones that are big in Slateport wear blue and red. Guess I just traded up to gold.” He paces, watching how both of his Pokemon fare. As much as he’d love to call out orders, they’re both faring well enough on their own.[break][break]
Roland gives as good as he gets. His blade is a pink blur. He’s thrown back onto the defensive. One end defends, twirling to the other in anticipation of the next blow. At the end of the day, he’s still a man battling a monster. He can defend all he wants, send fairy dust streaming from his sword’s edge, but he has to go on the offensive.[break][break]
A glance is spared back to Junior. They’re far enough away now. This may be a Hammerlock 2v2, but they’re fighting two independent battles. If he goes back to help Junior, he leaves himself open. He throws himself into the raging sandstorm. The knight understands he’s on his own.[break][break]
Yellow light starts to build in his left hand. It grows brighter and brighter. Navy starts to feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand up with static electricity. His heart starts beating faster, a war drum charting a course for the soldiers under his command.[break][break]
The electricity builds into an electric terrain that spreads across the pitch, stopping short of Junior and the opposition’s side of the field. The Tyranitar’s on the war path. Taken from afar, too slow to catch up, he’s flinging rocks. Stone Edge is a good trick, but it’s destroying the ground beneath them. Whoever has to clean this up in the morning isn’t going to be happy.[break][break]
Roland’s quark drive activates as electricity hums around him. Leaking oil from strain, he knows it’s not wise to press the fight, no need to draw it out. In his hand, the blade starts to glow an ominous red light. He won’t be staying on the defensive for very long.[break][break]
“All I know is that an idiot kid I loved a lot thought there was somethin’ in the League worth saving.” He admits, not missing a beat. The detective simply observed before carrying on his point. “What kind of a big brother would I be if I didn’t prove him right?”



[break][break]

+ Shred

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