Orion, not used to being recognized by anyone, had accessorized with a pair of sunglasses and a visor, equally as interested in fending off the sunlight as he was in remaining discreet. So far, so good.

"Definitely counts," he agrees. "For what it's worth, I've never done this either. Legal or otherwise."

Not that he'd admit to it if he had done any illegal racing, he supposed. He was a councilman now, that stuff was even more scandalous than it had been before he had a public reputation to uphold.

Kyle's question makes him laugh.

"Office work is always boring." He certainly hadn't gotten into politics for the paperwork. Along with the visor and shades, Orion had acquired a near-permanent accessory in the form of the bags beneath his eyes. Working for the council whilst also trying to keep up with the rangers was exhausting. "Honestly, this just sounded fun. You get the thrill of doing illegal shit while also being sanctioned by the league. Plus, it's a good way to work off some of his energy." He gestures to the Arcanine, currently chasing its tale like a puppy. When it notices Orion watching, the Arcanine offers him a huffing bark and wags his tail. "Our friend's on the move, by the way. Looks like he's going to meet up with his partner."

She was riding a Galarian Rapidash, its colorful mane streaming line a banner in the wind.

"Imagine how cool it'd be if we win this."

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"I'm not a figurehead," Orion insists, the false innocence in his tone suggesting the joke. "I'm just here to leave some racers in the dust."[break][break]

There's a certain spark of interest at Kyle's words. Teeth flash with his grin as Orion allows himself to slip further into the role of an illegal street racer: when in Hoenn, right? If their opponents were going to play dirty, then they were going to have to keep up with the Joneses in order to earn their respect.[break][break]

His Arcanine crouches at his behest and Orion climbs aboard, hands finding purchase in thick fur. The race was going to start shortly, and racers were slowly moseying their way over to the starting line. Nudging Apollo in that direction, he speaks soft to Kyle.[break][break]

"Did you have a particular plan in mind?"[break][break]

It's a team race, after all: better that they both secure as best a position as they can.

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Orion follows suit with the stretches, cracking his shoulder blades and feeling some of the tension leech out of them. Arceus, he really did need to check out the hot springs like Kazimir Wynter had suggested.[break][break]

"Good point," Orion concedes, and then nods. "Ready."[break][break]

He feels strangely giddy as he urges Apollo toward the starting line, the large dog taking its place between Kyle's own mutt and a Zebstrika attempting to intimidate its opponents by pawing at the ground. Though not unnerved by the actions, the dust that it was kicking up irritated Orion's eyes and lined the back of his throat, making it itch. It was going to be that kind of race.[break][break]

"Three...two...one..."[break][break]

A loud bang signaled the start of the race, and Orion doesn't have time to regret his life's choices before his Arcanine takes off with a burst of extremespeed. It keeps pace with the Zebstrika, and Orion sends out a silent apology to Pokemon and rider before urging his Arcanine to shoulder check the opponent and unbalance them. They surge forward to take the lead as the Zebstrika rears back and whinnies in frustration, and the councilman risks a glance backward to make sure everyone was OK.[break][break]

So far, so good.[break][break]

He glances over to Kyle to see how he's getting on.

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As he glances over his shoulder, Orion witnesses the chaos that Kyle had promised. He feels a pang of sympathy for the Pokemon caught in the attack, though not their riders. He keeps his gaze on the pile-up long enough to see some of them get to their feet and attempt to rejoin the race, though it's doubtful they'll be able to catch up to the pack. They soon become little but specks left in the Arcanine's dust.[break][break]

With the speed at which they move, Orion can only make out some sort of hand signal from his partner.[break][break]

"Take it easy," Orion tells his Arcanine, not wanting it to tire out before the finish. "Give us some sun."[break][break]

Slowing its extreme pace, fur streaming in the wind, Apollo tosses his head back and howls at the skies. Overhead, an already sunny day becomes hotter, brighter, and several racers slow down as their Pokemon struggle in the heat. Arcanine thrives where others falter, picking up speed once more as he drinks in the unnatural light of a morning sun.

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When Orion next risks a look behind at the opposition, he sees them in ruins thanks to Kyle's interference. Grinning wild with his adrenaline, he shoots the Elite Four a thumbs up before turning his attention back to the real competition.[break][break]

Thanks to the baking heat of the sun, any competition apart from fire and grass types start to fall behind as those drawing energy from the heat take the lead. He witnesses the girl with the Galarian Rapidash cursing and abusing her Pokemon as he flies past her and makes a note to ensure she gets arrested alongside the man they were here to bring down.[break][break]

His mount is a Rapidash as well, of the Kantonian variety, its fiery mane streaming behind it like a banner. Try as he might, Orion's finding it difficult to gain ground on the experienced racers. The flaming horse fires a wheel of flame behind it, and Orion ducks low and clings tight to his Arcanine's fur.[break][break]

"JUMP!"[break][break]

There's not enough time to dodge, so he trusts in Apollo as the Arcanine howls and leaps into the air. Orion feels the heat from the fire as they clear the hoop, but doesn't breathe until the dog's weight slams back to the earth and they're running once again.

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Orion's phone vibrates against his thigh, and it takes a great deal of effort to finagle it from his pocket while also clutching onto his Arcanine for dear life. This isn't the sort of multi-tasking he'd expected to be performing.[break][break]

The text is from Kyle, which is normal enough, but the words serve only to confuse him. He might've thought the Elite had texted the wrong number if they hadn't been embroiled in an illegal race at that very moment, and so instead he takes it to be some form of strange code.[break][break]

By 'boss room', was Kyle referring to the finish line, or the 'boss' being the man on the Rapidash?[break][break]

Fuck, Orion sucked at codes.[break][break]

Either way, he had to win this race.[break][break]

It takes a great deal of exertion on his Arcanine's part, multiple bursts of extremespeed in combination with the invigorating morning sun, but eventually they're neck and neck with their opponent and Orion orders Arcanine to retaliate the earlier attack, knocking the rider from his Pokemon's back and into the dirt. Though his altruistic nature would normally make him feel bad, or worried that the racer had broken something, he knows this man to be a ruthless individual who does all the same and worse.[break][break]

As it turns out, nothing's broken, and Orion smirks at the man on his approach.[break][break]

"Better luck next time."[break][break]

Though he certainly seemed annoyed, there was also a begrudging respect in the racer's expression. As he wanders off to reconvene with his own partner, Orion goes to meet up with Kyle.[break][break]

"What's up?"

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