Nyeh

What's up, Isaac Merlo.

It was a beautiful, sunny, beachy day at Dewford beach, Dewford town's foremost hangout location for family, youths, tourists and pokemon alike.

The smell of the sea that mixed with that of delicious food coming from food stalls... the colorful scenery created by a rainbow spectrum of parasols and towels strewn across the sandy beaches... the myriad of people and pokemon from all walks of life...

Truly, Dewford was one of the Hoenn region's most underrated gems.

"Wooooah! Mommy, look!" A young, innocent child said, pointing into the sea's beautiful, spotless horizon. "A biker!"

Naturally, the mother laughed, shoulders quaking as she pet her child's head, rubbing their silly, little, empty head.

"Oh, no, dear— bikes don't floa— Ah."

And on that beautiful morning, a singular blemish was reflected upon that polished gem's shining surface.

A single biker slowly rose over the sea's horizon.

Ever so slowly, the innocent child's mother's face slowly contorted into a most disgusted scowl.

"Fucking Bikers."

The small child jolted in terror as his mother's grip on his head tightened, slowly looking up at his mother.

"M-mom?"

Cardio had never looked more extravagantly ridiculous.

The magic bikerman, John 'Doug'las Sullivan came upon the shore all too quickly for anyone's liking, parking his bike-boat into the sandy shores of Dewford with absolute shamelessness, to the dumbstruck awe of the locals.

With an unnecessary flourish, the youth flicked at his bike's handle, the lid of a small cube dangling a the center flying off to reveal a glimmering, red button. With but a single press— the boating systems holding onto his bike came loose, fully unleashing the menace of a biker upon all of Dewford then and there, to the horror of all present.

Giving everyone present a two fingered salute, the biker sped off without warning, kicking up a large cloud of sand before suddenly launching off the beach and into the roads, speeding off into the distance.

A mother and child stared off at his retreating back.

"Can't just own the road— Gotta own the seas too...?"

---

Outside of Isaac's room, voices were vaguely heard.

Stuff like "who are you", "what are you doing here", "you can't print a medical license on bond paper" and other meaningless little things filled the air before—

"Wassup?"

Nyeh

What's up, Isaac Merlo.

"Not exactly a high bar, mate. I ain't dead, So..." He gave the other man a once over. "Yes I am, I guess!"

Slamming the door shut behind him, the youth threw his case onto a nearby chair before popping it open, pulling out ye olde stethoscope and hanging it around his neck.

Starting it off with the classics, it seemed.

Casually, he produced what Isaac might recognize as his assigned doctor's clipboard, before beginning to sort through the blonde's medical history.

"Yer lucky healthcare in Hoenn hasn't been fully privatized yet, my guy." He said with a grin, sorting through the rest of the pages on the clipboard as if they were paper animation. "Injuries like these would've bankrupted a millionaire in Unova."

Not really, but it was nice to dream up a world were millionaires could be fucked over by the same problems they had created for the poor.

"When did they give ya yer last physical?" He asked, before interrupting whatever response he got. "Eh, doesn't matter. I'll do my own; get naked. Let's see what we're currently dealing with."

Nyeh

What's up, Isaac Merlo.

"It's a free check up. You should buy me dinner." He pointed out irreverently, releasing his Orbeetle. "Garo— We're doing a check up. Mind giving me a hand?"

In response, the Orbeetle lifted up the youth's case, the boxy bag popping open before a number of tools began floating in the air.

Meanwhile, Doug pressed his stethoscope to Isaac's chest and found that the other young man had the world's most rhythmic pulse. Not something to be worried about, usually, though if one considered Isaac's recent circumstances, it was an oddity.

Also... not as good a sign as some might believe.

"Hn. 60 beats per minute exactly for 3 minutes." Doug said outloud, to which his Orbeetle's eyes glowed, a pen and notepad coming together in the air. "That ain't good."

Heart rate variability (HRV) was considered a marker of the autonomic nervous system's functioning, as well as an indicator of overall health.

"Healthy hearts exhibit degrees of variability in between beats." Doug explained, brows furrowed. "Reduced HRV is associated with stress, illness, and medical conditions..."

But nevermind any of that— reduced variability was one thing; none at all was bizarre.

Not to mention that:

"Freakin'... Garo, prepare a full body scan." He grumbled, rubbing his temples.

Nyeh

What's up, Isaac Merlo.

Doug snorted.

"Lotsa things can make yer heart go faster— or slower." Excitement, for one. Of multiple kinds. "But yer still human. Anything workin' with machine-like precision oughta at least be looked at it. Preferably by a pro."

Technically, Doug wasn't a pro(fessional), but Isaac would just have to settle.

Slowly, his Orbeetle hovered down to float besides him, staring silently at Isaac for a moment longer than was comfortable before turning to Doug.

The other seeming youth tilted a brow at the bug.

"Uh... So what're we workin' with?" He asked, before his pokemon's eyes glowed.

A few moments later, the youth raised his hand as if he was about to backhand Isaac, stopping himself just short before taking a deep breath.

"... Hoo. _{This region won't stop rewarding reckless behavior, huh...?} ... Congrats." He said flatly, clapping his hands dryly twice, not quite explaining why he was saying it before unceremoniously shoving Isaac onto the bed. "You're getting surgery. Don't resist."

Nyeh

What's up, Isaac Merlo.

"Don't be so dramatic." Doug said, rolling his eyes as he rounded around the bed. "Oh, and... Uh. Try to keep calm about what I'm about to say."

He paused briefly, his hands moving to his hips as he considered his words. Oh hey, he did comprehend bed-side mann—

"So you're like, technically dead?" Nevermind then.

He shared a glance with his Orbeetle, as if asking for confirmation.

"Definitely technically dead? Oh, okay."

Nyeh

What's up, Isaac Merlo.

"Yeah, well, you might wanna hold off on those Party Tuesdays from now on." Doug said dryly as he shoved his hand into a disposable glove.

He couldn't see precisely into Isaac's body— he only had the report as given to him by Garo.

"Sheesh. Wish I had some equipment— if I wrote a paper on your ass, my face would feature on the cover of The International Journal of Medicine." He sighed, approaching the other's bedside.

"Anyway... let me explain how dead you are, 'fore I put ya to sleep." He said simply, before casually reaching down to poke at the other's chest. "See this?"

He poked it irreverently. It felt... weird. For him, and likely, for Isaac as well.

"Autolisis." He said simply. "I shouldn't be able to say this, but it's half-putrified on the inside."

He poked at Isaac's stiff abs next.

"Not just your chest— most of you is." He said simply. "If you think of your flesh and muscle as being composed of multiple layers, it would be accurate to say the innermost layer is dead and stiffened."

He paused.

"It's familiar, this. There's a method to this madness that makes me think of kyle lopez. " He said simply, before crossing his arms. "But his revival isn't half assed like this."

When Kyle Lopez revived someone, it was like a perfect, salvation-esque spell that brought them back with fully restored bodies. No remnants of the death were left.

"Legendary pokemon are selfish assholes that only act on their own interests—" Doug declared bluntly, unilaterally shoving all the legendary pokemon into the asshole box. "So... congrats on your new avatarship, I think?"

Nyeh

What's up, Isaac Merlo.

"You're one step removed from being a zombie." He replied bluntly, cupping his own chin. "But, you ain't dead, I'll give it that."

Suicune... Perhaps an ability it had inherited from its own patron, Ho-oh? Not quite as thorough, but the result was more or less adequate.

"... Is his brain rotting too?" He suddenly said, staring flatly at his Orbeetle, who simply shook its head.

He suddenly raised his hand as if he was going to slap the patient.

"Then don't say stupid crap!" He said, before huffing. "Don't blame yourself for being murdered, jeez."

The self-esteem issues of people in Hoenn were beyond next level, jeez.

"If you died for them and still let them down, then the problem is them, not you." He said bluntly as he put on his face mask and tied a bandanna firmly around his head, fulling covering his hair in mesh. "Don't worry about them without first worrying about yourself; you can't help others without helping yourself first."

Whatever Suicune wanted, it should come second to whatever Isaac wanted, at least to Isaac of no one else.

Would he stop dying?

"What are you asking me for?" He scoffed. "Unless you're asking for training, it's all on you."

Hopefully, this literally deadly scrap at least proved a formative experience for Isaac.

"It hasn't been long." He said suddenly, moving on from the other's self-deprecation. "For all I know, the rest of you'll finish refreshing later on if left alone."

It could do that— or, it could keep putrefying until the outer layer looked about as well as the inner one.

"I ain't waiting around to see, though." He said simply, before nodding at his Orbeetle. "You're gonna be sleeping for a while— yer eye will have to wait, though."