at least, at this point, parker knows what to expect out of rocket scientists. there's a zero percent chance she's going to be able to persuade him that maybe territorial, rabid, angry pokemon that probably shouldn't exist down here aren't supposed to be fucked with. and gods know she wouldn't be able to argue quietly.

so she shares a look with amulius and she creeps closer, giving alba enough distance so she doesn't encroach on any Important Scientific Studies, but close enough where she can be spurred into action if the thing wakes up.

"okay," she whispers, "it does actually look kinda cute when it's not all murdery."

Alba Evovae

☉

"babe, i lived in a glorified shed." most days, they were lucky they had electricity or running water. wasn't until a couple years after parker was old enough to read and understand the bills on the table that she could figure out how to pay 'em and even then, squirreling the cash away to do so was a bitch and a half. 

parker stretches out her arms. fingertip to fingertip, they touch the walls, and she says, "becky, please. we told you we have the money. can the next one not be poopy garbage?"

maisey's panting by the time they've gotten there. it's a couple neighborhoods away, nestled on a fairly busy streetcorner, but there's a cafe around the corner that sells some boss ass donuts parker loves. a modest juliet balcony overlooks a small slice of backyard and the interior is definitely homier.

"mmm, close 'nough to your la-work. place. the workplace. where you work. look, nomes, the fridge has two doors."

Naomi Sato

☉

and now she's fucked if he really is league and meets her on the field. oh well. it's unlikely that out of the thousands of people who populate the region, she'll happen to run into him the next time some batshit hits the fan. 

"sure, mr moustache," she says, completely missing the fact that she'd misspoken because her writer is an idiot. 

cerludge follows dutifully behind her, waving at the puppy as they go.

Gwyar Wledig

☉

turns out there's no shortage of real estate in sootopolis. it's almost like if a terrorist organization occupies a city, people flee their homes and scummy landlords who no doubt work for said organization take advantage of the situation. parker had spent a decent amount of time on the computer looking for reputable realtors. y'know, someone still looking out for the people who don't have the means to move out of the city. 

prices are low too, at least. 

maisey trots beside nomi because she knows nomi is more inclined to smother her in random bouts of pets and kisses. 

"i've never lived in a house with fuckin' stairs," she says, squinting up at them. it's open concept. lots of light. blah blah blah.

"i dunno, nomes. the laundry room's, like, basically in the kitchen."

Naomi Sato

☉

look, parker! the big scary rocket boss can relate to you. he was there once. now look at him, as you hang from your waist by some sentient seaweed. look at him and think about how one day, sweetheart, that could be you!

she thinks of Isaac Merlo then and envy twists hot and raw in her intestines. makes her go all squirrely. she twitches and her breath comes short. she's glad the dhelmise is doing all the work 'cause she would have lost her grip for sure. 

that dream of hers about getting out has been shot dead now, lain to rest with blood and tears and some of nomi's c - well, the specifics don't matter. she made a promise. she told her she's 100% in. no wishing for anything else. ends of the earth, end of the world. 

how cruel that in hoenn, the dead don't stay dead. 

steel-toed boots find the ground. she crouches there, shaking away the rest of her anxious sweats, and looks up at her boss. 

"yeah," she says, unconvinced. "maybe it won't be so bad."

Cillian Quinn

☉

oh, toit. so kinda like charlie. or seth. okay, maybe not seth, but she did know a seth too. that one didn't move away. that one moved closer. too close. parker lives on the other side of slateport now. er, for now, at least. soon she'll be looking at dream houses. 

which is still kinda surreal to think about. 

touche, mr mustache. ask a question, get a question, but she wishes he hadn't. it's not like she can say, oh that's my callsign. my codename. when i was sixteen, i thought it'd make me look tough if my contacts knew my name is SIX and that's all they saw while i pulled them real close to me and beat the shit out of their faces. 

"six is my lucky number."

she thunks ceruledge on the head. 

"welllll, enjoy your stay in slateport. we oughta get outta your hair. hah, get it? 'cause of your totally real, super bushy mustache."

Gwyar Wledig

☉

"eh? oh." she looks down at her knuckles, a mottled purple and red from the exchanged blows. the brass had stopped any serious injury, but bones don't enjoy rattling against muscles and bones, nevermind whatever these fucks are made out of. 

"no, it's okay - " she protests, turning a little red when melody lets out a gardevoir to tend to her. she looks up, turns her body away to hide her sheepishness and looks at the rocking and then stilling ball in amulius' hand. 

as soon as the capture clutches, the doll pops right back out. 

"wait, you know what these things are?" she says, aghast. it shouldn't surprise her, in retrospect, but parker still thinks of melody as an idol first and elite four seco - well, probably fourth. she thinks a lot of things nomi probably wouldn't like when she thinks of melody (WHICH ISN'T OFTEN, BUT IT'S HARD WHEN THE WORLD'S HOTTEST POP STAR IS IN ARM'S REACH, OKAY?). 

"i think it's - she's - showing us something," she says and, flexing a mostly healed hand, mumbles a thank you to the gardevoir and follows doggedly after her new doll. 

she fits a piece of her arm into a section of the wall and it completely slides away, revealing a portal. and through that portal. home. 

Melody Miro

☉

she hopes, oh how she hopes, that they just end up running into more birds. she's not a hunter or a tracker or anything of the sort so she doesn't notice the signs around them - ambient sounds of fauna dwindling until they die, disturbed flora from a recent tussle.

there's a reason amulius is her ace in the hole because he notices something's off and stops her before they get too close to the giant mound of fur cast in the shade of a palm. rough snores blow dirt away from its muzzle. it has a wound on its side that's been licked clean and now it rests, more than likely exhausted after a fight. 

she freezes and slaps her hand like a fish out at alba to get his attention. 

"well, there's your dog," she whispers. "aaaaand you're going to get closer to it, aren't you?"

Alba Evovae

☉

melody's an elite four member. she's going to do what she does best and battle her doppelganger until there's only one victor. parker's on a different field. she's going until there's only one left standing.

the odds are not in her favor. 

amulius wants to help, but a mechanical bird in his likeness, all sickass fiery engines and sparking ember servos to boot, has engaged him too. not-parker gives parker a wolfish grin as it ducks away from the punch and grabs her forearm with that mecha hand of its. 

"COME ON. I KNOW I WASN'T THIS SLOPPY."

but for some reason the copy isn't looking at her stance or what she's doing with her feet. it's looking at her left hand, and then at her neckline, and then, for some reason, it's getting really, really angry. parker's not about to look a gift horse in the mouth; she uses her momentum, throws it into a pivot, and uppercuts her double in the jaw. 

metal meets metal with an unholy screech. screws pop out of the left side of parker 2.0's cheek. 

"oops," she growls out with a delighted grin and keeps on the heat. 

"YOU HAVE TO SAY IT BACK!" her punch to the solar plexus is blocked. a stupidly hard fist connects to her own abdomen and knocks the wind right out of her. she hurks but doesn't give it the satisfaction of doubling over. 

"i don't - " wham!

"know - " blam!

"what - " kercham!

"you're talking about!" screeeeeeeech!

gears start spinning. its hand flares up, glows, and parker thinks, simultaneously cool and this is gonna hurt. knuckles meet skin and parker suddenly has the terrible sensation of something being ripped away from her. the torn metal and ragged scratches on her double's face start bubbling and after blinking the sweat from her eyes, those dings are gone.

with beautifully bad timing, blood spurts right out of her nose and parker reels back, looking just as shocked as the mech. 

it's melody that stops her guard from being broken. the psychic screeching of her scream tail makes 2.0 shake, golden mouth twisted in a gross display of human pain. there's a wetness in her own ears and she barely comprehends why her own arm is glowing. 

a blur of red feathers and tongues of flame sprints past her and amulius, swathed in mega energy, brings a blaze kick straight into 2.0's chest. it simply breaks apart. 

when the screeching stops, parker mops up her ears and staggers over to the wreckage. yellow light wanes by her boot and she shifts her foot. the lower half of a jaw chitters. metal eyelids blink out of sync twice. the voice box inside it is half-melted, but it still manages a stuttering: 

"S-SAY I-I-T B-BACK-K-K-ZZZ."

she crouches down by the pieces and awkwardly pats the metal. "okay," she promises and its light fades. 

"well, that was - " 

she starts, but she's interrupted by the gravelly timbre of the pokemon she'd spied earlier. it approaches them slowly, weary and wary as it looks over the mess that's become of their doppelgangers. 

"some dreams are meant to fade away," it murmurs and then it turns. the crescent moon cables on its back split at the middle and one side waves towards parker and then outward, as though insisting she follow. it fiddles with some of the pieces, bits of the hanging dolls, and parker tries not to look as skeeved out as she is. she looks helplessly at melody and shrugs her shoulders.

"oh, my beloved, can i find you now that their ghosts have gone?"

it toils rapturously, fitting together a new body. that cable of its fits neatly in the center of the construct and slowly, a pink light waxes in its eyes. the artificial pokemon sits up slowly and pushes away its maker with a nubby hand. 

"you are not the one," it sighs and then it simply wanders off, leaving parker and melody alone with a newborn baby. 

"and i thought my dad was a shithead," she muses and fumbles for a pokeball around her belt. "let's see if this works..."

Melody Miro

☉

"are you upset we didn't find murder-dogs?" she says, bewildered.  but she can't really say she's surprised. rocket researchers are all a bunch of freaks. dorky, eyeball-loving, hot fucking freaks. she blinks away the visage of the dream girl that's escaping her every step of the way down here and resigns herself to their inevitable fate. 

the tracks do not elicit much joy from parker's face, but she gives him a thumbs up and an enthusiastic (sarcastic) grin. 

"time to go puppy hunting, i guess," she says with a sigh. "c'monnn. maybe we'll run into others too if we follow 'em."

Alba Evovae

☉

she resolves, almost instantly, to get a flier or a pokemon capable of teleporting. probably the former. teleporting still gives her green gills, even if she's done it over and over with nomi. she rubs the back of her neck awkwardly, keeps up the wry smile, and says, "with hard work 'n determination."

yeah, cill, she uses her fists. 

"but t'be fair, all i was doin' before nomi was beatin' the shit outta low lives who owed us money." the colloquial us tastes sour in her mouth, but she's proud she didn't say something dumb like 'who owed fuckin' rocket.' 

so here's how she finds herself caught between a rock and a hard place. honestly, she's kinda surprised he's giving her the choice at all and waiting, while he's all wrapped up in seaweed and the monster that wants to eat them waits down below. granted, the options are both shit. 

she wouldn't mind watching him get gobbled up, but then there'd be emotional baggage and nomi would probably be upset. he's also - fuck, all his fangs and devil horns have started to disappear. it's easier to say 'you're bad and you suck' when she doesn't have the guy shaking in his boots from paranoia and talking to her like a normal human being. 

back to both options being shit - 

1. get slimed by seaweed and go into the waiting jaws of death OR
2. kick it with cillian's shadow pokemon, which are presumably made of the same miasma he used to fuck up her leg way back when. 

and they don't like people.

and parker isn't so sure how much control he really has over 'em, especially if he's not here.

she stalks over to the edge and recalls amulius, but keeps his ball firmly in the palm of her hand. the other goes out towards the dhelmise. 

"bondage it is," she concedes. 

Cillian Quinn

☉

"your copy's kinda a bitch," parker grumbles under her breath to melody. her own copy is looking at her curiously. or maybe that's not the right word. the whites of her eyes are actually yellow and glow in the dim, steamy workshop. 

melody and mecha melody's back and forth give her an opportunity to look around and to tear her gaze away from the unnerving stare from her own copy. bits and pieces of automatons lay around. mostly put-together forms dangle from strings. 

some of them make parker's brain itch. that stupid itch she's felt ever since coming back from that raid with nomi. 

"WHERE'S YOUR RING, PARKER?" says her double. 

it jumps down from its pedastal, landing on one knee, gauntleted hand slamming fist-down into the ground. sparks fly and amulius puffs up his chest. behind her mechanized self lumbers a red pokemon, its blue eyes dull with age. it pays them no mind, only fiddles with some of the pieces on the ground. 

"girl, i just found out what mega evolution is. i don't have whatever new fancy superpower ring you or melody have," she says, not understanding. "but you sound like you wanna go, so let's aaaa-fuuuuckin-goooo."

and then she trots forward, ignoring amulius' warning clicks, thumbs her brass knuckles, and goes to punch it in the face. 

Melody Miro

☉