[attr="class","sunshine"]My grandfather's funeral is this weekend, and as a result I'm a bit off emotionally. Love you guys. See ya Monday.

[attr="class","sunshine"]The man's residual jumpiness is recognized and registered. Plank makes sure to soften her smile just a bit to help keep him at ease, to keep her posture casual in a way that betrays as little of her intent as possible.

"I guess we can't, can we?" she asks coyly, smiling in a way that flashes just a little bit of her teeth, "I wouldn't be opposed t' gettin' some air, though. A drink 'n' a smoke, with a bit of fresh air? Sounds like heaven right now."

The question of her age has her leaning in with a conspiratorial air.

"'n' I'm just barely old enough," she "confides", "My birthday just yesterday, but work kept me from enjoyin' my newfound freedom. . . Why? That gonna keep ya from sharin'?"

[attr="class","sunshine"]It's easier the second time around. It's more finishing a job than starting a task unwanted, and in that there is some comfort. If they're going to do this they ought to do it all the way.

But yet, still, Plank isn't sure she wants to see the final result. What if it looks awful? What if she's become a boy all over again? What if . . . But running from truth doesn't change it and so she nods slightly.

"Might as well," she says, sighing before hopping off the hospital bed -- an inadvisable move given the way she lists when she lands. Her head swims and the room turns before she gets her bearings.

Like with the way the room span before, or her tone from earlier, Plank gives it no more attention than it's earned. That being practically none. She pushes through the moment of dizziness to walk into the bathroom and look at herself in the mirror. What she finds there isn't awful.

There is distinct loss, in suddenly having hair only so far as the base of her neck (not even), but it isn't as terrible as she'd feared. There is still a young woman looking at her in the mirror. Tentatively running fingers through her hair and playing with the ends where they dance just above her shoulders.

"Not bad, Wolfe," she compliments the woman -- not knowing much the difference between what the admin has done for and what a hairdresser might make of it.

[attr="class","sunshine"]The relaxation seems to extend past the pokemon's responses to her and into how they co-exist. A Wishiwashi swims nearby alone, so unafraid of predators it's not activated SCHOOLING. Potentially alone it's so calm.

It makes Plank feel all the more uncomfortable for intruding with the plan she has. Obviously she's not the only Safari Zone customer, but she's probably unique in her purpose. Unique in the hell she's likely to drop these peaceful pokemon into. With one hand she reaches into her pocket and palms a safari ball.

The attendant said battling is an option, but not necessary with these pokemon. It was time to put that to the test. If she can manage it, Plank would like to spare them the pain of a fight at least.

"Hey dummy, look over here!" she shouts into the water, and the sound alone is enough to startle the Wishiwashi into looking her way. Before it can potentially panic and call its friends she chucks the safari ball right between its eyes.

[attr="class","sunshine"]There's something incredibly funny about watching a supposed god get knocked around like a pinball by FRENZY PLANT'S relentless onslaught. Unfortunately, the humor is undercut a bit by the ineffectiveness of the attack. For Plank it's cut down even more by the attack's spread.

"Hey, watch it!" she shouts to Leaf as the FRENZY PLANT extends past Tapu Fini to batter against Grog's side. The thorny vines manage to get in a few good hits before the Gyarados rears back and -- with a roar -- calls forth a storm that cuts them and forces them back. Localized, high speed wind supported by the rain above them grows and spreads.

The HURRICANE decimates the tail end of the FRENZY PLANT before reaching into the sky. Tapu Fini's SURF is a deluge that cannot be quelled by a single attack, but the waters part in a way that spares Gyarados and threatens to strike at the legendary if it doesn't take some kind of defensive action.

Defensive action Nelson intends to make difficult. The biblical downpour of water Tapu Fini has created does little to hurt Libra, but does plenty to help. It coats the field and makes for an easy pathway back to its source.

"Let's put this mess to use, THUNDER WAVE!" he calls. Once again the Luxray roars into the air before discharging electricity from his paws. They follow the path of the SURF across the field and up into the air -- Grog is caught on the way to Tapu Fini and the HURRICANE comes to an abrupt stop as he falls victim to a fit of involuntary twitches.

"What the fuck is wrong with both of you!?" Plank shouts, looking from one competitor to the other.

"It's a free for all," Nelson and Leaf respond together, the former sounding almost bored while the latter bursts with energy.

"I'll let you catch your breath though," Leaf continues with a smile, "Artillery fire, Sunny!"

After weathering the last of SURF, the Venusaur huffs in acknowledgement and the large plant on her back begins pulsing. After a moment the center of the flower begins burping up great gouts of viscous poison. SLUDGE BOMBS aimed at the (hopefully immobilized) legendary.

[attr="class","sunshine"]"Yeah, it's just hair," Plank replies, agreeing to the sentiment it'll grow back while attaching her put upon aloofness.

For a while the only sound is the snip of the scissors. The odd, pseudo-hiss that accompanies them slipping through hair. And there is a lot of hair. Cutting it even to just her shoulder-blades sheers off nearly half of it. Plank's head is instantly lighter and her heart a bit heavier.

It had taken a long time to grow all that, practically a lifetime to her teenage mind.

It's unfortunate that it's definitely not short enough.

"Shorter," she says, voice a little tight. She coughs the tension away.

"Chin length," she repeats a bit easier.

[attr="class","sunshine"]"Good," Plank replies, not at all concerned with hiding how eager she is to leave this dank alley and the man within it.

When he offers her a cigarette it feels like her mind goes through a million thoughts at once. She doesn't want to accept anything handed to her from him, but she doesn't want to look like a kid turning down this cigarette, and sure she doesn't smoke but she can just leave right away and he won't know. . .

She takes a cigarette.

"See ya tomorrow," she says before walking off -- completely oblivious to the fact the cigarette trick isn't exactly convincing when you leave without lighting it.

[attr="class","sunshine"]The ice quiets. The thoughts moving it and the anxiety accelerating it both slow with Gavin's correction to her expectations. Just luring him away. He seems jumpy already, like he'd be alright leaving, so maybe that won't be too hard. He probably just needs a prompt.

"Yeah, I can do that," she says resolutely, downing the rest of her drink in a single swallow before leaving the glass behind and going to cross the room. For a moment her legs feel weird, but she gets the hang of them before she can do anything embarrassing. Just a head rush from getting up so fast.

Then she's crossing the club floor, slipping between dancers and drunken conversation. When she hits the bar right next to the man in the red shirt she makes it look coincidental. He jumps, but when he looks at her she's not looking at him. Instead she's leaning over the bar.

"Hey, can I get another whiskey ginger?" she calls, voice peppy and sugary sweet. The bartender nods at her before reaching for some liquor off the shelf. While he does that she finally looks at the man beside her. A plastic smile splits her face.

"Do ya have any cigarettes?" she asks.

[attr="class","sunshine"]Plank just nods in response to the praise. She knows her skillset is useful, and compliments from Theo do nothing for her beyond let her know he thinks so too.

"Nothin' I'd brag about," she replies.

[attr="class","sunshine"]She sucks her teeth at the idea of having to "keep up" with anyone. Teenage ego and a building competitiveness tell her it won't be a problem.

"I know boats," Plank offers, "rowboats, sailboats, speedboats, I can work 'em all fine. Same for upkeep. Got the waters between Slateport, Pacifidlog, and Mossdeep down like the back of my hand, too."

She's traded a traditional education for the specialized training of her father.

[attr="class","sunshine"]Proving the man wrong was validating in her head, but the rare bit of laughter from Theo has Plank feeling foolish for trying. Whatever. At least he knows she's not some weakling now.

"Never even heard of 'im," she grumbles, moving onto Theo's next question, "so long as he can keep up I don't care."

[attr="class","sunshine"]Plank nods in answer to Gavin's question, waiting to see where he went with it.

She follows his gaze to the man, looking at him for the third time. One of her fingers drums against the side of her glass while she continues swirling the drink inside. The ice rattles noisily. She's spinning it harder than she was before.

"Are ya askin' if I can kill 'im on my own?" she asks.