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Beau was grateful for his next mission with Jack being in the Simulation proper - sure, there was something to those real expeditions, but the closer he got to those Dyna crystals, the weirder he felt. He couldn't quite get over it, and he understood the necessity of gathering resources for the League, but given the choice he'd much rather feel like he was playing a game.
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It was with this particular mindset that he and Jack materialized in a cluttered workshop. He blinked and glanced around, but no threat or even engagement seemed to be presenting itself other than the damaged pokegear set prominently on the center table. "Huh, do you recognize that brand?" he asked Jack, moving to examine the device more closely.
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He assessed the device with as much focus as he could muster - which wasn't much compared to some, but it was enough for him - and snapped his fingers. "I got it!" he exclaimed. "This is what we gotta do to move to the next area!" He immediately set around poking through shelves and drawers, in search of a screwdriver. He wasn't a tech-head by any means, but he'd repaired his own remote-control car when he was a kid, and after he'd managed to do that, it actually made it to the end of the block before it burst into the smallest fireball he'd ever seen. Which was progress!
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"HA!" Beau, absorbed in the task of tinkering with the pokegear, didn't notice Jack's reaction to his snap, nor much anything else occurring in the workshop, including his friend's warning. His triumph at successfully repairing the pokegear as its light blinked on was swiftly silenced as a voice emanated from the small device.
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Almost reflexively, he brought his fist down on the device, which crumpled into fragments with a loud crunch. His eyes, wide, flicked from the destroyed device to Jack, and he frowned. "Dude, this is a simulation, right? Was that just, like, an NPC, or is somebody actually watching this?"
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He looked around the enclosure, up at the top of the walls near the ceiling, but no cameras appeared to be in use. "I don't like this," he murmured, turning back to Jack. "That doesn't feel right, you know?"
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"You got me, brah, I figured you'd know more than I would about this thing." Beau's voice echoed weirdly as the simulation dissolved and reformed around them, but he was quietly pleased that he could still talk - shifting from place to place had still never settled well with him, even after the dozen or so scenarios he'd experienced in the system.
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The island was strange, small, quiet. The withered crystalblooms lent an air of solemnity to the otherwise placid environment, and Beau's eyes snapped on to the lake like a magnet seeking true north. He'd been around water for his entire life, but something about this lake begged him to step in.
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It would just take one step, then one more...
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A low, labored breath shocked him from his focus on the lake, and he caught sight of a fallen Persian near the edge. Dang, had he dodged a bullet? "Hey, check this guy out," Beau called over to Jack, moving to the Persian's side. "But...something's wrong with it. What's all that dark stuff?"
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"Ah, geez, really?" Beau fretted as Jack busied himself spraying medicine on the injured Persian. "I just caught one of those things a couple'a weeks ago, but I haven't really had a chance to train it yet. Should I not let it out around my other pokemon?"
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His train of questioning was cut short as a flickering will-o-wisp rose from the lake, darting downward to dance around the fallen Persian. He reached out to grab Jack's shoulder and backpedaled a few steps as the Persian slowly came to its feet, although something was...wrong with the movements, somehow.
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Suddenly, the feline's eyes snapped open, and it launched toward the two men with a SHADOW RUSH. Beau was so busy rifling for the first pokeball he could get his hands on that he didn't see the strange wisp flicker back beneath the surface of the lake, instead calling out his Gouging Fire, who roared before forming a BURNING BULWARK with its mane that warded off the brunt of the attack.
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"Think you were right on the money with the aggressive part, brah!" he called.
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Beau was going to get whiplash at this rate. The battle couldn't even really be called a battle; between his Gouging Fire and Jack's Magearna, the attack was warded off and the simulation shifting into a new scene before he could even think to order a counterattack.
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The cliffside was new, scenic enough, and unless the strange bird before them decided to suddenly launch an attack, safe enough to catch a breather by his estimation.
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The Xatu's eyes flashed with power, and Beau briefly had the presence of mind to curse every time he'd thought to get comfortable in this place.
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"You fuckin' idiot!" His father roared. Teenage Beau recoiled, narrowly ducking a flying bottle that exploded into shards on the wall behind him. "You don't fuckin' play games with me! You think this is some kinda joke?"
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A crumpled ball of paper bounced off of his bowed head, and he had the presence of mind to be grateful that there wasn't anything more harmful in arm's reach of his father.
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"You can't be this stupid! You puttin' on an act? You think stayin' back a year is gonna be FINE?" His father stood unsteadily from his chair, stomping - not the boots - to Beau's position. "When I was your age, I was captain of the fuckin' football team! With those grades and those fuckin' noodle arms, you're gonna be lucky if you're the captain of the goddamn janitor squad!"
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The kick came, familiar, bruising his ribs. Steel toes. "I'm sorry," Beau gasped, shying away from the strike. "'M sorry, I'll do better, I ain't joking, not a joke, sorry-"
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He blinked, his cheeks wet, and stared brokenly at the expressionless, unmoving Xatu across from him.
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"Fuck you," he managed.
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