[attr="class","sunshine"]

Much like Gavin had recommended she use the gym challenge to her advantage as a learning tool, Gavin all but demanded Plank make some time to participate in this Stars From Hoenn tournament. Or whatever it's called. She doesn't much care.

Beyond that, he also strongly urged her to seek out one opponent there in particular. He gave her a name and a picture alongside the command, so it's easy enough to pick him out on the beach -- no matter how crowded with people it is given the event taking place literally anywhere you can find space for a battle.

"Hey!" she shouts as she approaches, the many chains around her neck jingling but her boots silent in the sand, "Are you, uh . . ."

Plank's boisterous entrance is cut short by her forgetfulness. A few silent curses accompany her thinking for a few moments.

"Ronin, or whatever?"

[attr="class","sunshine"]

Most of this event couldn't interest Plank less. She's got no great love of formatted battles, and there's no fame to be gained so long as she's masquerading as Bonnie Taylor; but this lottery? It's promising, and as she enters her name into the raffle her heart is genuinely pumping.

A chance to go toe to toe with a legendary. Beyond that, a chance to see what one of the League's most prominent Avatars is capable of up close and personal.

When she wins Plank practically howls with excitement. Not having paid attention to the actual rules of the encounter, she's surprised when she hears more sounds of excitement from amongst the crowd that's gathered. She steps forward into the ring and is accompanied by two more faces. The announcer makes sure they all get some recognition for their luck.

"The results are in!" the MC shouts, excitement bleeding off of his every word, "the opponents for one of Hoenn's own best and brightest have been selected! First among them we have another local -- an up and coming amateur hailing from Mossdeep we have the Punk Trainer, Bonnie Taylor!"

An eruption of cheers hits Plank's ears and she soaks it up. Whether it's the energy or her costume she plays into it, pumping her fists and hooting alongside the crowd.

"But that's not all! Wouldn't be much of a Battle Royale without some more faces; so please give a loud welcome to a young man hailing from Sinnoh. An agent of the law, he's chosen to spend his vacation where the sun is always shining -- please welcome one Officer Nelsoooon Trace!" As the MC does his best to sell this foreign stranger, Nelson himself does little to aid him. The man looks professional and serious, dark hair carefully combed and his suit so smooth and clean it could have been pressed this morning. He gives only a terse nod and a few short waves to the crowd.

"And finally, a name and face some of you might recognize! A former contender for Champion in her home region, she fell off the map for a few years but she's here with us again today -- it's Leaf Cantrell!" This time there is some help from the young woman, who pulls back her brown hair before giving a few pageant waves to the crowd. Her black dress twirls as she turns this way and that.

"Now, with our competitors picked and in position all that's left is for us to get to business! The rules are simple, there are none! Ha! I kid, but aside from regulation rules you've all been filled in on throughout the day I've got nothing for you! Make it a free for all! Break up into teams!" The MC leans in conspiratorially after this, whispering in a way that's made pointless by the microphone still at his lips, "Maybe make our AQUA Initiative member earn his keep by focusing your fire?"

The MC leans back and gives a theatrical shrug.

"It's up to you! No matter what, though, I want you to go wild! Throw out your pokemon and get to work in 3, 2, 1, LET'S DO THIS!"

The MC's call to action is accompanied by a bell, and all three of Fernando Silph's opponents let loose their pokemon the moment it rings.

Plank licks her lips in excitement before throwing out her pokeball. From within, in a flash of white light, appears her Gyarados -- Grog. The massive sea serpent gives a mighty roar before coiling his lower body and running INTIMIDATING eyes across his competition.

Nelson, with a simple flick of his wrist, releases a Luxray. Its appearance is as understated as its trainer as it silently scans the field.

Finally, Leaf releases her pokemon with a small flourish. The showmanship of a top trainer. A moment later and a large Venusaur hits the ground with a heavy thud. It looks almost bored, in the way most Venusaur do, but the way it bounces from foot to foot quietly betrays its excitement and preparedness.

[attr="class","sunshine"]Plank patiently listens as Wolfe talks her through her train of thought. It's kind of annoying, but she figures she owes it to the woman for making sure she got her concussion treated and bringing her something to eat. Still, there's something that almost makes her roll her eyes about the last bit.

A second of silence sits heavy in the air as Plank helps herself to a thoughtful sip of smoothie. She licks her lips afterwards, pops them lightly.

"When ya say I can't trust anyone ya know that includes you right?" Plank asks, "I mean that was already how I was operatin' besides . . . well, that was almost how I was operatin'."

Fucking stupid, trusting Cillian Quinn like that. She should have known better.

"It's how I need t' work movin' forward. So you'll understand when I tell ya I don't need anyone momin' me, right?" Plank surprises herself when she asks the question. The words come out steady and sure in a way she doesn't quite feel them deep down.

[attr="class","sunshine"]

Public battling events always rub Plank the wrong way. It all feels so . . . sanitized? Kiddy? It's weird, maybe even gross, to take issue with a fight being safer and more structured; but she does anyway. It's not how Plank was taught to battle. It's not what she's familiar with.

And yet, here she is. The girl who thought she'd never take the kitschy gym challenge, now supplementing said challenge with public battles at this All Stars Tournament or whatever it's called.

But what else can she do? She needs to get better, and she needs to get better fast. If she wants to rise in the ranks and escape the vulnerabilities of grunthood that's her only choice.

At least most people won't know it's her out here.

[attr="class","sunshine"]Plank's first drink of the smoothie is quickly followed by a second and a third. She was barely keeping her hunger and thirst out of mind, but now that she has something to at least partially address both she's ravenous for more of it. From the chill on the outside of the cup she sucks down half of it before Wolfe finishes talking to her.

Kind of at her, really, but she's used to that.

"Okay?" she says, in an obviously confused voice, from around a half-mouthful of smoothie. She swallows.

"Why?" she asks.

Plank's eyes narrow in Wolfe's direction, this time out of suspicion instead of pain (while it goes unacknowledged, Plank appreciates her suddenly dim surroundings). People don't make a habit of just looking after her, and every time she thinks someone's considering it it seems they either bite it or bite her in the ass.

Given the sway Plank knows Wolfe has, she suspects given time she'll do the latter.

[attr="class","sunshine"]

Combat boots on glass make an interesting sound. The soles thump but the glass accents it nicely. A soft clink that contrasts with the heavy footfalls in a way that interests Plank.

As she walks the long, transparent bridge she tries out different step cadences. Steady, strong steps. Lighter sauntering. She even skips once or twice.

It's a moment of levity she needs. Has needed. She had to wait for all the bruising to her face to go down before taking the gym challenge again, which is a real shame because the perfect thing to take her mind off of everything would have been this joke of a gauntlet.

"Bonnie Taylor," she says simply as she approaches the gym's front desk, her fake trainer ID (stamped with her fabricated identity on the front) held between two fingers. She hands it over casually, not in the slightest bit nervous. Plank knows Cillian Quinn's best put it together; and she knows now better than ever that he accepts nothing but perfection.

[attr="class","sunshine"]Despite the caution she shot her Seaking, Plank isn't exactly excited to be in such close proximity with Theo again. Neither is she over eager to have a "talk" with him. Presumably in private.

She considers turning him down, but what good would that do? Not like Gavin couldn't lock them in a room together again. She almost laughs at her own silent joke.

"Yeah, sure, why the hell not," Plank responds, returning Princess as she does, "let me stop by the med tent 'n' I'll be right out."

The wound to her leg isn't life threatening, already the flow of blood is slowing, but she'd rather not risk infection or whatever other complications exposure to Theo might bring.

[attr="class","sunshine"]"I'm gonna keep bein' honest with ya," Plank replies to her partner's caution, lowering her voice and leaning closer in towards him, "If anyone comes sniffin' around, especially if they try t' stop us, I'm not gonna need a cover-story."

"When a Rattata shoves its face in a mousetrap, well . . . It doesn't go scamperin' off very often does it?" She straightens back up and shrugs. She thinks the implication behind her words is clear enough. If someone wants to stop what they're doing they're welcome to try, but it won't end well for them. Not if Plank has anything to say about it.

Without missing a beat she switches back to directing Thomas.

"It's closin' in on ya! Brace for impact!" she shouts to the Palpitoad and he takes a few hops back. It's not enough to shake the speedy Raichu, but it is enough to buy room for an AQUA RING. The Raichu finally gets in range for an IRON TAIL, but it doesn't hurt all that bad when it smacks against Thomas's rubbery flesh; and within moments the AQUA RING is cleaning up the scrape it left behind.

"Make it regret gettin' so close!" Plank continues to bark orders, and Thomas is quick to follow them. His cheeks swell again before he spits out a veritable shotgun blast of dark detritus. A point-blank MUD SHOT that blows the Raichu back and covers its limbs with sticky, debilitating sludge.

[attr="class","sunshine"]"I'm not bein' dramatic, this fuckin' sucks." Plank reiterates, throwing an arm over her face to cover her eyes. She can't shut them for long without risking passing out, but the lights of the med bay keep aggravating them. She's been migraine free for a few hours and would like to stay that way if possible.

"I'm not a kid, neither," Plank continues.

She's aware of Wolfe's entrance, obviously, but the arm over her eyes keeps her from looking at her. The thunk of something on her bedside table barely registers.

The mention of chicken fingers, though, gets her to peek out from behind her arm in the direction of Wolfe's voice. She barely catches the gesture towards the smoothie in time, and only then notices it's there at all. On one hand she's not big on smoothies. On the other her mouth is fucking bone dry and she hasn't had a proper meal in over twelve hours.

"Nnn," she groans as she forces herself to sit up. Another groan accompanies her stretching over the side of the bed to grab the smoothie, and another her settling back into place against the pillows.

"Thanks, or whatever." Plank mumbles, putting the straw between her bruised lips and taking a long sip through it. The cold immediately soothes some of the ache inside her mouth. The sweetness of the blended fruits even perks her up a little bit.

[attr="class","sunshine"]"Hmm," Plank hums in understanding. Cutting off some loose ends, then. Deserters, traitors, whatever you call Rockets not doing their job anymore.

Any unease she feels at the knowledge of the bloody task likely ahead of her is drowned out by the residual ache of the few remaining injuries to her face.

Gavin's question about the fresher pain that runs up her calf earns a short click of her teeth; and then a couple words as she thinks better of leaving it there.

"Good enough," she replies tartly, the implication under the words clear: 'It won't slow me down, and that's all you need to know.'