night two

dream drop distance

“YOU’RE OFF YOU KNOW.”

the hum of florescent lights provide the perfect ambiance for a productive night. a rare occasion where neither of them will be bothered by the responsibilities of their titles. their colleagues have already abandoned their job for the start of the weekend. no one works late on a friday night.

well, almost no one.

“illie took off today, y’know.”

he doesn’t have to look at her to feel her smile from across the room. her voice alone perpetuates a candid openness he’s earned through countless overtime.

“c’mhere. take a seat.”

their little dance of helping one another out is paired with the fine wine of fernando trying to force better work life balance onto his prize employee. even now, he cannot think of anyone more valuable in the league. his own precious pearl. the one asset he can’t allow to spoil.

“LIKE THIS?”

fernando twists the holographic model of the TERA TUNNELS once more as they try to chart out the seismic repercussions of their recent formation. he moves his wrist only slightly but that’s enough to cause the whole projection to turn red with failure.

“tch.”

the sound of her laughter only makes his deadpan frown steepen as they redo their original diagram.

“again.”

“this time we’ll assume mossdeep’s foundation explains the auxiliary tunnels.”

this time, she stretches it out from EVER GRANDE, and it holds. it turns yellow, then green, until they connect it to MOSSDEEP. then it flat lines against to both of their frustrations.

“again.”

words she’ll hear him say all night.

THE MESS BETWEEN THEIR TABLES PAINT THE FRUITLESSNESS OF THEIR ENDEAVORS. it preys on their mentality and twists their will to the limits. it’s what pulls them arm in arm, scrambling to pick out some variation they haven’t tried before. boiling at emotions that have no other release.

“fuck.”

the screen taunts him until his vision turns red.

“again.”

the other is not so willing. she knows what it means to be human. as super as she is, there are limits to mortality. ones that bend to what it means to be human.

“how do you do it?”

“hm?”

“keep going and going even when there’s no chance you’ll get the answer you want.”

he settles down next to her, deep sigh, as he comes to term with what she’s about to bring up. it’s not stubbornness that drives him. it’s the selfish gain that comes with being right. another chance at survival. for this problem is one that threatens them well beyond measure.

“because we have to. because i know we can.”

it’s enough to bring a smile to her face.

fernando starts again, taking point, but she grabs him by the wrist. pulls it away from the model. away from their work.

“it’s almost daybreak. we can try again tonight.”

he doesn’t struggle from her grip. he just stares. answering her with his gaze. a stare that says, ‘go ahead, i’ll continue’. one she smothers with defiance.

this is the point they bicker in an endless cycle, with someone eventually playing chicken. but tonight, they don’t say anything. a drawn out silence that rests in their eye contact.

and then she kisses him. pushing forward. past all inhibitions as her hands find their way to his face, pulling him into her, cornering him against the desk.

a kiss he reciprocates, hands running down her back until they grab her by the hips. all it takes is for a single hoist for her legs to wrap around him, clinging in an impulsive act that allows him to turn her over to prop against his desk.

it wobbles under their weight.

he stops her there.

“eva.”

there is hesitance in her name.

“i respect you more than you can ever know. and i told you, i will be whatever you need from me.”

how much of this is real? how much of it out of the grief of losing MATIAS SILPH. is he just a warm body? or the next best replacement? he’s not sure, but he knows this isn’t just about them. it can’t be. despite being his crowning jewel, she has cracks. weaknesses.

and he cannot repeat the same mistake.

“but things like this never end well.”

he kisses her once more. a fleeting brush against her lips.

“give it some time. and, if by then you still feel the same way, i will be whatever you need.”

distance creates a rift. a wall that values her as his head professor dwarfs the needs throbbing in his chest.

“whether it be an ear to listen, a body to keep warm, or—”

[attr="class","spiralpee"]
Eva Morales
773

night three

dream drop distance

“COME IN.”

there is something in how kyle lopez saunters in that breeds familiarity with one another. despite knowing that, for all intents and purposes, he would do so with the others—more for a lack of regard than anything else—doesn’t conflict with his narrative. time and tenure eclipses all else.

“didj’a get the new expansion?”

“is it out already?”

“don’t you get early access for being a ceo? aren’t rich people supposed to get kickstarter treatment?”

fernando scoffs at the comment as his fingers type in a quick search. blade and bulwarks was only a few years ago but their dominance in the mmorpg world is left undefeated. how many people fell victim to the BUNKER’s pvp record? enough to make the game’s innate egg carrying mission one of the most difficult if not played during obscene hours.

which is why their names were never connected back to their real life personas.

“i take it you’ve already thought of your build?”

“way ahead of you.”

foreseeing the pain they’ll bring onto the online world brings a grim smile to his face. one that matches the devious twinkle in his partner’s eye.

“i have a meeting to wrap up the day but i’ll reach out once i’m ready.”

“i’ll be off then.”

“very well, lopez.”

he watches the door to his office close when kyle departs. his eye flickers to the picture on the wall. it’s an old one of the league from their last christmas party. the one where he had forced the current ELITE FOUR to dress as stantlers.

it reminds him that this go around, they won’t have their front line bruiser.

a reminder that their previous champion will never get to see the sequel to server tyranny.

a reminder of what he has lost.

and what he still has to protect.

[attr="class","spiralpee"]
kyle lopez
304

night four

dream drop distance

THE DOOR TO THE CONFERENCE SWINGS OPEN. the red hair that comes behind it seems frantic. in a rush to vehemently close it behind her as if she could shut the world off from following her. a scene so loud it’s enough to cause his eye to wander up from his tablet. away from his lunch.

“f-”

she stares back in disgust. he can’t tell if she’s anxious or delirious. whatever it is, she tries to stifle it under an obvious facade. an assumption turned reality with the way she clears her throat.

“why are you always where i least want you to be?”

he laughs to himself with a slight snort. his interest goes back to his tablet. to something more entertaining. to the news.

“i work here.”

he continues on with his lunch. a simple salad without dressing. plain and tasteless, but plenty nutritious.

“what set your world on fire?”

“it’s none of your business.”

“very well.”

she tries to play it calm. for all the sharpness in her voice, her movement proves much quieter. as if she could tip toe away from this encounter like it never happened. but that doesn’t her from fumbling the half poured coffee cup from her hand. it lands with a resounding thud, spilling everywhere.

“fuck!”

“lost your nerve, livy?”

“now’s not the time, silph.”

he blinks, once, before looking past the brown splatter on the floor and at her.

“then when, livy?”

“preferably never, if you want to know the truth.”

he shrugs.

“as you were then. make sure not to slip.”

she goes back to fiddling with the coffee machine. a shitty ploy at trying to instill the notion that it’s the reason for her arrival. but even that refuses to budge. a frustration that pushes her to the brink of a breakdown.

she wacks it once.

nothing.

she wacks it twice.

it groans.

she wakes it a third time before cursing at it before letting it taste her fist. even that isn’t enough to make it succumb, so she sighs her big sigh and slumps in defeat. the last straw of a world that will not bend to her whims as easily as she would hope.

“when fini died, what was it like?”

“i don’t know. i was unconscious from the pain of having my eye ripped out.”

“after, i mean.”

“oh.”

it elicits a pause.

“like losing any other pokemon. the world moves on and our responsibility to the living means we cannot dwell.”

“so you felt nothing? nothing at all?”

he does not give her his attention so easily but even he cannot cause his brows to stay their course. they furrow from the instigation. the implication.

“what are you fishing for, livy?”

“i’m just trying to figure out if you’re even human.”

“would spilling my food all over the floor help?”

he can feel her glare from here. the way his chest twists is all the confirmation he needs.

“you know what?” yeah, actually. it would be nice to see the great council man, fernando silph, make a mess of something for once.“

“like when his eye was ripped out? or when tapu fini died?”

“or when he actually felt something! you lose your greatest asset and you think ‘the world moves on and our responsibility to the living means we cannot dwell’. bullshit.”

she makes the same mistake that everyone else does. the symptoms of a great plague that ruins this region.

“tapu fini was not my greatest asset.”

“then what was?”

“the pokemon and people who i relied on before i became an avatar, and those i will continue to rely on after i stopped being one.”

to admit the next forces a scoff from this throat.

“people like you.”

she doesn’t say anything right then. he’s not sure why, or how she reacts, but he doesn’t really care. the conversation is easy enough to navigate while reading the subtitles to hnn weekly.

“you’re so full of it. rely on me? you barely trust me.”

“and yet i do not repeat your work. is that not reliance enough?”

“of course it isn’t. but, i guess you wouldn’t understand that.”

“you can explain it to me while you wipe up that mess and calm your nerves.”

“my nerves are calmed,” she snaps. it has a quickness that belies its own truth. a preemptive strike lashed out of fear—that she would be it’s victim.

“lie to your constituents. not me.”

“well, i’m sorry that not everyone is as perfect as you are! some people have actual emotions. and when things get hard, we actually feel it.”

“so what are you feeling?”

“why? so you can have something to ridicule me about?”

“so i can abate your worries.”

“i’m not so naive to believe you’d ever willingly choose to rely on me. you know, out of all the criticism i’ve received, your was always the loudest. you’d think a year of service would amount to something - but not to you, and certainly not to hoenn. to you all, i’m still that same reporter, right?”

the grimace on his face can’t swallow another bite. he sets his fork aside, done with his meal. the salad already lacks taste as is. now it feels sour to the touch. spoiled in the same way illeana reyes and Melody Miro echo her sentiments. hurt feelings without understanding the greater picture.

“who else will keep you accountable, livy? who else will push you to grow and become better? if you want to plateau, you can look to goode for validation.”

“so that’s why?” she sounds surprised when she shouldn’t be. “to push me? well, i’m being pushed, fernando. but i don’t know if it’s making me better!”

it all starts to unravel, and, for a moment, he regrets opening this can of worms.

“if you weren’t improving then i would stop pushing, livy. did you see me put an ounce of faith into anderson?”

“i don’t give a shit about anderson! i care about the fact that you’ll never think i’m good enough for this position.”

“if you weren’t sufficient, i’d have you removed. like those before you.”

“tsk.”

she’s not satisfied with that answer despite knowing it to be true. her silence speaks volumes to his truth. he can feel it opening her up.

“you know, i never wanted this position. i was happy where i was before, being a reporter, sharing hoenn’s stories. i just—i thought this role, this life would allow me to achieve so much more.”

it permeates the room with stillborn air.

“now, i don’t ever know if i was right for thinking that.”

“has it not?”

“you tell me. it’s been a year and what have i done exactly? ‘lie to me constituents’? get an avatarship i cannot control?”

“you collect and relay information. draft reports that many of us rely on. a job i used to have to do before we had you.”

“exactly - all i’ve done is a job you used to do yourself. where’s the merit in that?”

this time, she’s the one to bring him to a stop.

“livy, do i have to explain scaling teams to you? did hbs have a single reporter?”

“you shouldn’t have to do anything!”

she breaths a big enough sigh to flush out her lungs. it carries with it her frustration and temper.

“i’m not saying my work at the hbic means nothing. but, for all of this, i thought i would have been able to do more than i have.”

“then your expectations are too lofty.”

“how can they not be? after everything i’ve sacrificed, is it not natural to hold some level of expectations?”

“there is a reason that this work is championed as selfless. it is meant to take everything from you and give you nothing in return.”

“i’m not looking to gain anything, but to do something that actually matters.”

“self satisfaction is gain, livy.”

she gasp, exasperated.

“why do you do that?”

“hm?”

“everyone loves to remind me of my past, and how i would ‘twist the truth’, but you do the same don’t you? i come and tell you i lack meaning, that i’m questioning decisions i was once so sure of, and you jump to turn that into something so ugly. self satisfaction? really? is it self satisfaction to seek something as simple as meaning to my work? to be happy with myself and my decisions?”

he’s about to answer but she cuts him off.

“you ask me what has me so disjointed, but it’s you, fernando. it’s you and your pompous attitude. your grating voice. your—your everything.”

only now does he lock his tablet. there’s no point to this anymore. he can’t concentrate.

“do i? i think i’ve been plenty honest with you.”

he cleans his little eating area, moving the napkins and trash into his bowl. cleaner than he found it. and, with that, he stands up, facing her.

“if i wanted to lie to you, i would tell you that everything will be already. that you’re being too hard on yourself. that this is just a small setback. that’s it’s natural to feel what you’re feeling.”

he has to actively step over her spill to discard his mostly eaten salad.

“but that’s what you have everyone else for. in that regard, i’m the only one who will be honest with you.”

he leaves her with her thoughts and a mess she’ll never be able to clean up.

[attr="class","spiralpee"]
PENELOPE LIVY
1579