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The locks on the front door opening clicked one after the other. When the door itself was finally pushed open, Tempest had finished setting the table with hot, steamy food. A glass of the chardonnay was in his hand, which he had tilted back to sip from when Cillian Quinn entered the room.[break][break]

There was a tiredness there, from a long day of work. Cillian was the... he was...[break][break]

Oh, right, he was the Rocket Boss of Hoenn. There was so much he had to manage.[break][break]

While weary, that bone deep exhaustion wasn't lining his shoulders as normal. It was a relaxed kind of tired, of someone so sure and confident in himself and what he did. A wildness and freedom that Tempest had only seen in his eyes once before, when they had been kings in a memory.[break][break]

"Welcome home." The glass is sat on the counter, Tempest walking over to help Cillian out of his jacket. A firm, solid kiss is shared between them. It lingers on the tongue, bubbly with the tang of sweet alcohol and cigarettes. Cillian hums, face softening from the stoic man he showed the world to the loving husband Tempest got to see.[break][break]

"I missed you. Did you cook? It smells good."[break][break]

A few more pleasantries, the after work rituals given, and they're both seated at the table.[break][break]

Low candlelight burns between them, an extra step Tempest had done last minute. The cheeks of the fish are as tender as he expected; he even coaxes Cillian to try it. Though, the other isn't as enthused about the jellied eyes as Tempest is.[break][break]

They curl on the couch together. Sweet nothings are whispered between them. Promises of love and pain and bliss. Warm kisses traded, both of them tipsy on each other and the drink from dinner and warm, full bellies.[break][break]

Tempest smiles up at Cillian when he's pushed back, his space crowded.[break][break]

They fall asleep in each other's arms, sated and happy.[break][break]

"I love you, Cillie."[break][break]

"I love you too, Temp."

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The next morning is a comfortable routine.[break][break]

Tempest sees Cillian Quinn off for work, tucking a lunchbox into the other's hand. A kiss to seal their parting, leaving Tempest alone to mull about his own day.[break][break]

A quick breakfast. The paper is folded out in front of him, which he peers through idly. A slice of orange vanishes past his lips as he skips over the serious articles to read the comics tucked inside.[break][break]

But his gaze catches on something.[break][break]

A thrill runs through him when he reads it over and over.[break][break]

It had just been announced that the Hoyeon were a protected people now. Efforts to restore and save their lands, their culture.[break][break]

"I have to tell my dad!"[break][break]

Cell phone taken out, Tempest jumps from the table and rushes to finish changing. The talk with Tulio is short. This isn't something he wants to tell over the phone, though. So, soon enough, he's locking the door behind him.[break][break]

"Icicle!"[break][break]

The Galarian bird cracks open an eye, sleepy and fluffy. She had been roosting next to where Lugia had slept, purple feathers gleaming in the light.[break][break]

"Want to go visit my parents? Diot's coming, too!" It tastes odd on his tongue to say. It tastes right.[break][break]

That catches the Articuno's attention, though, and Tempest laughs when the bird hops down and stretches out her wings for him.[break][break]

Soon, Tempest has the saddle readied up and they're both sailing through Sootopolis' Crater and towards Pacifidlog.

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"Dad!"[break][break]

Tempest was hopping off of Icicle's back before she was even fully landed. The Galarian Articuno fluffed herself up, offended, and gave the man a light bop with the end of her wing for this injustice. Still, she settled in on her usual perch above Tulio's home.[break][break]

Temp's father was outside, helping one of the grannies patch up a small hole in the side of her house. He glanced over, then smiled and waved when he noticed his son. A few quick words and someone else took over the task for him, leaving the two to chat.[break][break]

"Temp! I didn't think you'd be coming till Aurora's Bestowing Ceremony next week!" Tulio clapped his son on the back before the two pulled each other in for a hug. Tempest grinned in his father's embrace, making sure to squeeze him just as hard in return. They parted and moved towards the house, picking up conversation.[break][break]

"Mhm! I saw something important and had to come tell everyone! Where is Aurora, anyway? And mom?"[break][break]

"Just in the house." Tulio promised, leading Tempest into his childhood home.[break][break]

It was simple but well kept. Traditional. Alvilda sat by the fire in the floor, talking with Aurora; his mother and sister huddled together in some serious debate. But that wasn't all- Diot, his daughter, sat beside her aunt. The redhead's eyes were furrowed as she nodded along with whatever points were being made.[break][break]

They all glanced up and face's lit up when Temp and Tulio came inside.[break][break]

"Dotty!" Tempest rushed to sit next to her, giving his daughter a big hug. She yelped, rolled her eyes, but then chuckled and fondly hugged him back in return.[break][break]

Tempest had missed her ever since she left out to explore Hoenn on her own. Diot was an adult now, sure, but she would always be his little girl.[break][break]

"Aww, come on, dad. I told you not to call me that." But her voice was fond as she spoke. Tempest just grinned and pulled back, settling into a more comfortable position. The heat of the fire below licked a familiar heat over his skin.[break][break]

"I'm so glad that everyone is here! It makes this easier." Reaching into his pocket, Tempest pulled out the folded up newspaper. Even rumpled, it was still perfectly clear to everyone as he passed it around. "I knew the papers wouldn't have ran out here yet, so I had to come show everyone."[break][break]

"Oh, this is wonderful!" Aurora cried out, surging to her feet. His younger sister's eyes were full of fire, a wild grin on her face. "I'm going to tell everyone right now! Mom! Dad! We have to celebrate! I'll go see if we can get a quick one together!"[break][break]

Alvilda's booming laughter chased Aurora out of the house.

"Well, you heard her... guess we're celebrating tonight! Make sure that husband of yours gets here in time, Temp!"

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"Tear it to pieces. When it revives again, we'll be more prepared."[break][break]

The order was short and to the point. There was not reply, just the marching of boots as his operatives circled around the fallen ruler of flame. Moltres lay on the ground before him, dead. A pool of molten red blood spilled from around it, blazing feathers dulling as the warmth slipped away.[break][break]

The night before, it had been a celebration. Tempest Quinn had sat with his family and reveled into the night. Today, it was back to work doing what he did best.[break][break]

Killing the false gods that roamed Hoenn.[break][break]

Tempest was merciful. Some of them could be welcomed into Rocket's Hoenn, trusted. Lugia, Darkrai, Zapdos, his own Icicle... they were valuable allies. But those that stood against them, that sought out ruin or havoc, they had no place at the side of the humans who would rule them.[break][break]

Moltres had been the most recent to fall. It's ability to revive was annoying; but if they sliced it down to pieces and studied it's parts, they would surely learn something to stop it eventually. If they didn't, Temp would keep killing it again and again like the nuisance it was.[break][break]

A shame, this time, that it had taken an Avatar.[break][break]

Michael Navidson lays on the ground, scorched but breathing. Tempest had hoped to find him, someday. When the League went into hiding, so too had a few of it's better men and women; Navy among them. Rocket had tried to warn them what might happen if they didn't come into their wings. This was just another price paid.[break][break]

Tempest's boot crunch on stone as he kneels down next to the man.[break][break]

"Navidson. You're not going to die without fighting me, are you?" A small quip, dour as it was. Navy's face twitched, cracked and bleeding from the fire as it had raged out of his control. Slowly one eye cracked open, less damaged, as he gave labored breaths.[break][break]

"Temp. You're not-" A choked cough interrupted his rough voice, blood speckling on his chin from the effort.[break][break]

Tempest forced a smile and shook his head.[break][break]

"You're a victim in this, too. We'll get you patched up. Medic!"[break][break]

And Tempest would wait by the man's side until he was carted off. A heaviness sat in his chest.[break][break]

---

[break][break]

Two days later, Tempest would get the report he had been waiting months for.[break][break]

He watches as Isaac Merlo and his gay dog race over the Dewford ocean. The scope is pulled from his eyes to watch the speck on the distance. He huffs and scowls.[break][break]

"Makoto Kurumi, howard slayte. You guys stay back for this one. I want to handle it myself." The two exchange a look. But they know it's personal for him, so they respect his wishes. Still, they hang back with the rest of the team.[break][break]

Icicle spreads out her wings and cries out, allowing Tempest on her back. The Galarian Articuno takes to the skies. All to pin down Isaac and Suicune.[break][break]

The battle is fierce. It is not detailed only because I dislike battle scenes, only because this was too long already. Tempest's mind skips over this, in his dream, to get to the good part.[break][break]

Isaac laying battered and bruised on the ground. Alive, bleeding, and with a wildness in his eyes. Suicune snarls up at Tempest and Icicle, both also battered but still standing. Their bond, not marred by Avatarship, stronger than the poison the canine was feeding to it's 'Chosen'.[break][break]

Suicune knows it has been beaten. Blood oozes from it's jaws, the jewel that had crowned it's head snapped off. A back leg broken; it can no longer run on the water. Tempest approaches on the sand barge they had ended up on. The prod is in his hand.[break][break]

WAIT.[break][break]

The voice slithers into his mind. Tempest knows it is Suicune that does that, can see the desperate glimmer of it's eyes.[break][break]

I KNOW WHAT WILL SATE YOU.[break][break]

[break][break]

Tempest feels the thrum of infinity energy at the edge of his grasp. A pressure on his mind, offered freely. The opening of a connection. All he needed to do was reach out and touch it. Then that power would be his.[break][break]

Temp lowers his gun and approaches Suicune. It shakes, almost in a laugh.[break][break]

"Suicune? Why?" Isaac chokes from the ground as his own connection is forced from his body. Suicune offers that power to Tempest now, practically throwing it at him. From this close, Tempest can see the madness in it's eyes. How it thinks it had won.[break][break]

How it thinks it will live.[break][break]

Tempest watches that hope fade from it's eyes when he raises the specialized gun to it's forehead. Then, he watched the life drain from those same eyes when the Infinity Energy Dampening Spike is lodged deep into it's skull.[break][break]

Isaac shakes, the infinity energy leaving his body, causing withdrawals already from how deeply it had sunk into his very being. When Temp approaches, he stares up at the man with wet eyes as fat tears start to form on his cheeks.[break][break]

"W-why would Suicune.... It told me it would be there for me... but it just..." Wheezed and ragged. Tempest stared down at him. Where once he had felt the anger of betrayal, now he only felt pity.[break][break]

But a hand was offered to the man below him.[break][break]

Just like one had been offered to Michael Navidson, to kyle lopez, to angelo vestri, Laurence Anderson, Eva Morales, freya morningstar, Hyakkaryōran Tsubaki- to anyone the League or the false gods of Hoenn had turned their backs on. Tempest would do his best to find room for them, in Rocket, so long as they didn't spit on the hand he offered.[break][break]

And when Isaac took it, Tempest smiled the largest he had smiled in a long time.[break][break]

"It'll be good to have you back, man." A promise for something better between them.

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Tempest had awoken. Then Durandal had tried to cleave his head off.[break][break]

It hadn't been a mishap with Cillian Quinn's avatar powers.[break][break]

All must sleep again.[break][break]

Tempest now stared down at the Dream Ball in hand, frowning lightly. The blank avatars around him revealed little; his eyes gazed over them as they all went their own ways. Some lingered while others charged into the forest.[break][break]

Tempest was one of the former. Durandal was important to him, Shadow pokemon now or not. He wouldn't lose her.[break][break]

The silence of the forest was eerie. It wasn't quite real; but Tempest had never played the popular MMO when it's beta was launched. Any similarities to it and other areas in that game was lost on him.[break][break]

He had come quite far out now. It was thick and hazy in a dreamlike way. A bush rustled. Tempest tensed up and readied himself, hoping it was Durandal...[break][break]

A Midnight Lycanroc burst from the bushes. Tempest tensed up, alarmed, as the Shadow Pokemon peered at him. He thought he recognized it; wasn't it one from Cillian Quinn's pack?[break][break]

It didn't give him time to ponder it, though, as massive claws slashed at him. Temp barely ducked away, gashes left in a tree where his head once was.[break][break]

With no pokemon and unsure of what the hell was happening....[break][break]

Tempest turned and ran.[break][break]

Crashing through the underbrush, Tempest pants as he searches for some type of cover. From behind, a howl followed by heavy footfall; the Lycanroc was hunting him. Between the two, the pokemon was faster. He had to think quickly before he was torn to pieces.[break][break]

Turning sharply, Tempest ducked behind a tree.[break][break]

Clapping a hand over his mouth, Temp tried to keep quiet. He could hear the large pokemon lumbering past... then slow. It's heavy steps lingering just behind. Puffs of air taken in and out of it's snout; scenting to try and find the man.[break][break]

He flinched at wetness on his leg.[break][break]

Glancing down, Tempest saw several tiny... dogs? Tiny and square, they bounced around on front and hind legs; no articulation. There was no detail on them, just round little sausages like balloon animals. Glancing back, Temp very, very slowly leaned down to pick one up. If he made too much noise, the Lycanroc would know he was there.[break][break]

One of the dogs hopped into his palm; Mother, it was so tiny! It bounced around for a few excited hops before exploding into a small splash of water. There was no excess chill, no pain. Just the sensation of tepid water sliding through his fingers and splashing on his cheeks.[break][break]

Soon enough, another one snapped together to replace it.[break][break]

Well that wasn't... ah... but....[break][break]

With a quick motion, Tempest instructed his little followers to hop through the bushes.[break][break]

Not all of them made it through, popping on the twigs and leaves of the bush, but at least one of them must have. He heard the Lycanroc snarl, seemingly distracted by the small creatures. A thrill ran through Tempest as he slowly crept forward.[break][break]

The small distraction bought him enough time to make some space between him and the Lycanroc. When he was far enough away, Tempest started into another dead sprint through the forest. He wanted to be far, far away from the pokemon.[break][break]

A root caught on his foot, causing him to tumble forward.[break][break]

His hands slammed into muddy sand, his upper half in a small clearing while the lower was stuck in a bush. A small, round pond was in front of him.[break][break]

And in the center, turning to stare back at what was intruding on her, was Durandal.[break][break]

The Kabutops clicked in warning, a shing! ringing in the air as she started to sharpen her blades against one another. Scrambling to his feet, Tempest tossed the Dream Ball at her.[break][break]

It crashed into the water but stayed intact.[break][break]

Tempest let out a relieved sigh, pushing himself to his feet and wading into the water so he could collect Durandal's ball.[break][break]

But the world froze. Much like a game, more text boxes were in his face.[break][break]

A tap of curiosity on both answers. But, seeing the warnings only fueled his already solidified choice.[break][break]

Tempest did not purify his Kabutops. He selected the option to keep her the way she was with confidence. As the boxes faded, his avatar took a more solid shape.[break][break]

Plates of brown shell, fitted like armor, sat on his body. A short sword, like a scythe, on his hip; but after some experimentation, it seemed that Tempest couldn't actually remove it from his person. Just an accessories like the rest of it. A small brown beret sipping lop sides on his head, two red dots that glowed like his pokemon's eyes.[break][break]

Squeezing the Dream Ball in his hand, Tempest started to make his way back to the castle.[break][break]

Except he woke up.

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The next scene is set.[break][break]

Another night of restless sleep.[break][break]

Tempest idly opens up his inventory to peer at the items his Title had granted him[break][break]


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So not great, but... well, he'd figure it out. My as well wing it and see what happened![break][break]

The dungeon flickers around him. Durandal is at his side, the shadow Kabutops thrumming with energy.[break][break]

Waves wash over a beach. It's sunny and bright. It's the place where Tempest had 'freed' Isaac Merlo and killed Suicune.[break][break]

He grimaces. Still, they march onwards.[break][break]

Sand crunches under his avatar's feet as he walks. It's breezy, but the heat on his skin feels artificial. Like sitting under a tan lamp rather than the sun. It doesn't feel real, any of this; even the crash of waves on the shore sounds like stock effects with a poor loop.[break][break]

From the water rises a massive, pink and white Corsola.[break][break]

It's a monster, some clouds seeming to hover over the top stalks of coral, angry as it roars our a deep tune. Rocks are blasted at Tempest and Durandal.[break][break]

Tempest yelps and directs Durandal to attack. His own 'water dogs' manifest, hopping along the salty water; they pop uselessly against the massive boss monster. Durandal does her best to slash through rock and deflect water. But she is only one Kabutops against something huge.[break][break]

And Tempest himself is useless.[break][break]

A HP bar flickers over Durandal's head when a burst of water lands. Sending it from hovering in the green to a sliver of red.[break][break]

Breath hitching, Tempest calls her back into her Dream Ball and hits the FLEE button as fast as he can, turning around to book it down the beach.[break][break]

The Corsola roars in the distance; unable to come onto land?[break][break]

From farther inland, Tempest pants and catches his breath. The HP bar on Durandal slowly ticks back up, out of combat healing her slowly.[break][break]

"Hey." A voice, familiar, snaps Tempest out of his thoughts. Turning his head, he sees... well, it's an avatar. But Tempest would know Cillian Quinn's voice anywhere. A familiar Lycanroc, also deeply corrupted, stands at his husband's side. It fills Tempest with some relief to see someone familiar, to not be in this alone.[break][break]

"Mother, Cil, I'm glad you're here." Straightening up, Tempest walks over to the other and presses a kiss to his cheek. The best he can, anyway, given the oddities of their avatars in this game. Cillian hums and leans back after the quick show of affection.[break][break]

"We should team up. This place isn't suited for me." Tempest nodded at that, a message box popping up. Asking if he wanted Cillian on his team. Tempest didn't hesitate to accept him.[break][break]

"I had a lot of trouble with the boss here. Durandal couldn't do it on her own." A frown, though, when he looks at the Lycanroc.[break][break]

"We're in trouble, though. It's super effective on your pokemon and does a lot of damage to mine. We'll have to hit it hard and fast." He continued.[break][break]

Once again he remembered the items he had been given.[break][break]

"Hmm... actually, I have an idea. But we'll need to work together. Trust me, okay?"[break][break]

"Of course, love."[break][break]

"Great. So, here's what we'll do...."[break][break]

When they went back to the Corsola, two new items were equipt to Durandal and Cillian's Lycanroc. A Macho Brace on the Kabutops, a Weakness Policy on the Lycanroc.[break][break]

The plan executed perfectly.[break][break]

Durandal was slower because of the brace, so she couldn't get in and do her attacks as fast as before. The Lycanroc would take a hit, almost being taken down, in an effort to distract the Corsola... but then Temp would use his Energy Root to heal the Lycanroc just enough to take another hit.[break][break]

The power boost from the policy would take effect, and then the Lycanroc and Kabutops could both strike boosted up, powerful hits at the same time thanks to the stall.[break][break]

The Corsola exploded into a shower of pink and white rock.[break][break]

A cattle gun hits the ground in front of Tempest's feet; without any bolts. All the weird dream modifications intact. He holds it in his hand, the weight feeling natural and strange all at once.[break][break]

"This is the thing I told you about." Turning to show Cillian, Tempest held out the gun for the other to look over. "I used it to kill Suicune. Do you think something like this could work for real?"[break][break]

"Anything could work if you put your mind to it."[break][break]

Tempest paused, noticing how Cillian only seemed to stare at him and didn't give the gun a second glance.[break][break]

His fist tightened on the grip.[break][break]

"Hey, babe... what did you think of the fish head I made for dinner a few nights ago?"[break][break]

"It was delicious."[break][break]

"Ah."[break][break]

Tempest hadn't actually ended up making any fish head for Cillian.[break][break]

This was a fake.

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Falling into sleep.[break][break]

Once again, the dream persists.[break][break]

The instructions fill Tempest's vision. The destination is chosen.[break][break]

Pacifidlog. A happy home waiting. Not just Cillian Quinn, but both parents still alive and a sister not in the ground. The burden of responsibility lifted off shoulders.[break][break]

There is a flicker of his eyes was Durandal steps forwards.[break][break]

Razor sharp scythes carve through the happy memory. The shreds of data spill like blood as reality is fixed into what it should be.[break][break]

Tempest closes his eyes and pretends it doesn't hurt. This is, after all, just a false reality.

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This time, it's a book. A journal, a memory.[break][break]

And Tempest feels a cold grip in his chest, a longing and mourning all at once. Both for a time that would never return and for a pokemon lost.[break][break]

It feels off. Like Tempest is inside of his own body but can't control it. He is just a spectator, forced into sepia toned actions.[break][break]

A child, with a gap between his teeth from a recent lost tooth. It is himself, maybe about seven. Young Tempest sits in the middle of his small home, by his lonesome for now; usually he was outside, but his nose is red and dripping and he shivers under a thick blanket despite the summer heat and humidity. Fever colors his face but he has sneaked out of his bed to sit on the floor. Alone, for the moment.[break][break]

A pack of cheap crayons, mostly worn down to nubs, sits by his side. He hums to himself between wet coughs and loud sniffles, clumsy fingers drawing Corsola and dinosaurs on the same paper.[break][break]

A soft purple flicker of candle light followed by a creaking warp of metal, the cry of a ghost. The Chandelure fades into the room, peering at the boy curiously before frowning and floating over.[break][break]

"Chande!" He cries out, voice thick with phlegm and rough from the prickles of a raw throat. But a smile appears on his face, warm and familiar, when he sees his mother's pokemon.[break][break]

Much like Medi and Compass, he loved all of his mother's pokemon. The Chandelure trills again before the young boy opens his arm to hug it's metal body, leaning his face on the glass. It snuggles close to him and makes a worried noise.[break][break]

"I'm okay." He promises, not wanting to worry the pokemon. But Tempest has always been that way, wanting to hide his pain so it doesn't bother others. He stays leaned against the pokemon longer than normal, pressing his face closer; the cool glass and icy fire helping to relieve some of his fever.[break][break]

They sit like that a long time, a child drawing comfort from a familiar pokemon. In time, Tempest knows, the moment will pass. His father will come back inside and usher him to bed.[break][break]

But when Tempest blinks back into his own body, it is just with the memory of comfort from a pokemon he let die.

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One last dream.[break][break]

It is dead here now.[break][break]

But the Wish Tag stays in hand as he peers at it.[break][break]

What would he change about himself? If Tempest could tear open his heart and rip it apart to suit him, what pieces would he leave behind?[break][break]

"I want to be less sentimental where it doesn't matter."[break][break]

After he hits 'enter', the paper vanishes into code.[break][break]

When Tempest logs out, it is with finality.