The arrival of the other women was overshadowed by the streak of fire above her head. As the Blaziken’s leg snapped out, the woman’s pupils shrunk to pinpricks. Her heart pounded in her chest, the world in front of her being replaced with an alley. The Corviknight’s raucous, metallic shriek twisted into her own screams as a younger, bloodier hand slid against the exterior of a dumpster. Move. Just move. One foot forward. Please. The heart in her chest pounded as her fingers grasped desperately at past ghosts.


Already off-kilter in this twisted Wonderland, grounding herself was difficult. It was like trying to save herself from a blizzard by throwing herself into a hurricane. Feel your sleeves. Deep breath. The fabric wasn’t the same as that night. This was knitted and thick. A red beam emerged from her belt as a Helioptile burst into being. Alastor was fully intent on chewing her out for balling him, but one look told him that now wasn’t the time.


His mouth pressed into a thin line as he grabbed his trainer’s hand and squeezed. “Helio?” A shaky gasp rolled through his trainer’s frame as she desperately squeezed back. Her mind cleared just in time to hear Parker’s warning. A sense of calm fills her as the brusque woman takes control—maybe because it’s like listening to Madd. “I think that is for the best.” Which would be why she’d suggested it to begin with.


When Thalia speaks, Aubre at first worries it’s an after-effect of the earlier attack. But Alastor’s grumpy expression and diverted attention prove it wasn’t a hallucination. A metallic grinding erupts as the Tinkaton tears the clock's hand free. Some part of the ginger feels guilty—like she’s watching a grisly nature documentary. “An arbalest?” Her teeth tugged at her bottom lip. “You want to fight it? That seems a little—” A tug on her sleeve drags her eyes down to where the electric type sits with his notebook. On it are two simple words: ‘parabolic charge.’ That might work, even if it wasn’t likely electricity was involved. “--reckless.” Aubre finishes lamely, realizing flight didn’t really suit the situation.


Before she could formulate a proper response, Aubre found herself tripping after Aurelie toward the gazebo. Huffing from exertion, the woman just peered up through the gazebo. It didn’t exactly strike her as all that protective. Still, it was better than gaping at the sky like a moon calf. At the talk of springy wires, the woman turns to the flowerbed where vines stretched across the ground. With a nervous glance to the sky, the ginger-haired woman moved to tug at one of the strands. Alastor joined her, quickly wrapping wire around his hands. “Do you think these would work? I know they are springy, but I’ve never—I don’t really have any experience with—” Her mouth mulled over the next syllables like the first mouthful of a foreign dish. ‘Seige weapons.”


Or, well, normal weapons either. Leon’s gun always scared her. And knives, well, those belonged in the kitchen.


With a yard or two of wire laid out, the electric-type turned to survey their surroundings. His head tilted. A claw moved to jerk at the nearest woman’s sleeves. The hand opposite then pointed at what seemed to be a Flabebe. "Tile."

At the talk of Mantine, Aubre allowed her eyes to lift to the bright blue sky, half hoping to see one floating up there. “They are beautiful Pokemon—body and soul.” Elouise had been a sweetheart in every sense of the word. Her loss at the maw of that Houndoom was due, in part, to that dangerously pacifistic nature. “Or, well, at least all the ones I’ve ever met.” Though, in this case, maybe the word was love. “Ellie and I used to love transitioning from sea to sky.” Her bare feet felt so safe curled against the Manta Ray’s back as they transitioned from one frontier to another. And, no matter how many times she jumped, those big eyes were there waiting for her.


The talk of danger drew a shake of her head. The place she’d lost her trust had been a well-lit, low-crime area. Her father’s injury came from his second home. “Monsters come in all shapes.” Which was a large contributing factor to her paranoia. “Ignorance really is bliss.” Her mind thought back to a pair of big, trusting baby blues. Not one for religion—not after everything that had happened—Aubre did spare a prayer for her daughter. Oh, Arceus, may she keep her innocence longer than I did. A scarred hand skipped a rock across the waves, a petty little act of vengeance.


“It really is stunning.” The quiet of the ocean brought with it a sense of peace and wonder. It also reminded her of just how little they knew and just how small people were. Maybe that’d been why when she contemplated an end, she’d chosen a cliff above a sea just like this. “I just wish that feeling stayed a little longer.” But once you emerged you were gifted not with peace but skin that smelled of fish, chilly winds, and damp hair.


Aubre turned towards the Dragapult with a frown. “Is everything—” Green eyes followed blue as she spotted the beautiful white stork. By the time she identified the bird, stones were falling on her and her Pokemon. The man’s call gets her to her feet, though that isn’t easy. “Shoot!” A rare bit of profanity emerged as Aubre felt a rock slide into her cheek as she scrambled back from the shore. Out in the water, her comparnions disappeared beneath the surface. “I've had worse," Aubre murmured, allowing herself a moment of indignation. "Ugh, they really are such ill-tempered—”


Before she finishes the sentence, something large and orange smashes into the water just offshore. A Dragonite—its head gushing from an earlier wound inflicted by that same bird—had finally lost the battle with its waning consciousness. “Roman! Help it!” Aubre panics as she slides off the rocks and to the moss-covered rocks below the ledge, not caring as her pants grow damp. Out in the water, the Kabutops manage—with help from the Marshtomp—to buoy the unconscious dragon to the water’s surface.


She wraps her fingers around the edge of a Pokeball, almost guilty. But that creature was heavy. “I’m sorry.” Aubre murmurs as she draws her arm back and tosses it at the injured dragon type.

NOTES:
Catch Dragonite

When she heard the celebrity’s treatment was falling onto her—due mostly to scheduling issues and a callout—the redhead had been left with the slot. “Oh! I know who you are.” A pause followed as she realized how threatening that could sound. “Or, well, I know of you." She allowed herself a small smile, her eyes jumping from him to his Pokemon. “My dad’s an Elite Four member.” A job he had kept even after a crippling injury. “What I meant to say—however—is that it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mister Devlin.” She took a deep breath. “Josh.”


The talk of children made her laugh. “Oh, it’s his. That’s why he isn’t here today.” Aubre and her husband may not be on the best terms currently, but she still admired the composure he’d shown during the labor process. The man was her rock in a storm. It was unfortunate she now doubted his shadow offered a safe place to moor. “And, you’re right. I feel like my daughter was born yesterday, and we’re already exploring preschools.” A terrifying prospect, in truth. Michaela’s personality could be best described as a glacial cactus. Aubre quickly learned that gifted vocabulary came with barbs—albeit never directed at her.


Just try not to look at the manes too much, Aubre. You can barely tell they’re fire types, otherwise. As the felines sat down, Aubre gestured the older lion towards a lift at the center of the room. The height would allow her to get a better view of him. “I did. Ad-libbing is not really something I’m—it’s not—I’m better off prepared.” The rest of the young man’s words were met with a small nod. “I see.” An unusually short reply from the rambly doctor.


The woman then turned to the lion. The talk of what the young man wanted to do seemed almost selfish, gym leader or not. What was all this I stuff? “Is that something you wish to do, Aslan? Knowing the risks of racing again?” her finger tapped the switch for the table, lifting it until it was roughly hip level. After a brief cursory inspection, she moved to the lion’s back leg. “May I?” She made a lifting gesture. “I just want to see how everything’s healing.”


With a quiet noise, the Skiploom bobbled its way into the room. Little legs propelled her over to Simba and his trainer. After a bit of maneuvering, she managed to land on a nearby spinny stool. "That’s Maggie. She’s a fan. I can barely keep her off the circuit stream.”

As if on cue, the grass-type bounced on the remote, turning on a live stream of a gym battle.

Keeping herself grounded proved difficult. Many nights she’d stroked the dog that had attacked her. It often looked as calm as the dog beneath her. Though, in retrospect, Aubre wondered how many hateful glances skirted past unnoticed. Though her hands remained steady, each of the dog’s twitches made her pause. As someone who suffered from constant pain, the ginger went out of her way to see the signs.

Any perceived discomfort would be responded to without request. The whole tough act did no good—not for her and not for the patient. Fortunately, the needle sunk in without a discernible reaction.

“Thank you.” Aubre mumbled to the trainer as he did his best to comfort the hound. Anything done to keep the thing’s hellfire eyes off of her was welcome. If it’d not been ludicrous, she’d have been tempted to request a blindfold and bedsheet too. “As your trainer said, Tyr. Everything should be fine.” Unless the wound became infected or it’d been poisoned. Or, worse, the dog decided her face looked like a chew toy. Other than that, however, everything was peaches and cream.

The concern in the trainer’s voice was touching. And, unfortunately, not always present. She’d met her fair share of terrible human beings who treated their partners like decorations or collectibles. “It is. As long as the blade isn’t poisoned or anything.” Aubre tried her best to force a comforting smile. Her hand remained wrapped securely around the tool in her hand, the point leveled at the ground. “Stitching together a clean cut is a lot less nerve-wracking. And, well, there’s usually nothing missing.” So, while it looked like someone had tried to skin this dog, it wasn’t as horrific as she thought at first glance.

Then again, she thought most things looked terrible. Her brain sported a nice pair of, well, whatever was the opposite of rose-colored glasses.

The frightened animal in her was tempted to just rush through the job. To just stitch what she could together, leaving the poor animal’s hip looking like a cobbled-together mess. Aubre McKenna. You are a doctor. You made a promise. Slow down. Nothing’s happening you can’t deal with. With another deep breath, she drove the needle through the canine’s flesh and pulled it out the other side. “Please let me know if something hurts—or stings—or just feels weird, okay?” Aubre froze. "Or, well, let your trainer know, anyway."

Continuing this process, the redhead began to patch the hound’s hindquarters back together. A noise from further up the table made her shift her body slightly, keeping her field of vision constrained to the table itself. “May I ask what caused the injury?” Aubre paused. “I believe you mentioned a Scyther?”

Before it moved closer to the city center, the clinic had been the idyllic romance movie clinic. Its outside was perfectly kept with a gorgeous assortment of local plants. Adorable little statues surrounded the clinic, featuring healing types along with the original founder’s partner Pokemon. Though much of this charm had been preserved—and a building knocked down for the expansive rehab center out back—it now felt out of place. Large buildings loomed around its patches of green like schoolyard bullies in a taunt.


Though a decent-sized clinic, it owed its reputation to the much more experienced doctors who called it home. In comparison to these veterans, the redhead felt like a clumsy toddler. Really, Aubre was pretty sure someone had bribed the owner to let her work here. It really did not make sense otherwise.


Those who paid attention would notice a Heliolisk at the front desk was practically running his part of the clinic. He’d drag over the necessary paperwork for each patient or direct them to a nearby tablet to enter the data. When numbers or notes were given, he’d scribble them down on a notepad. Shortly after Josh arrived, the electric type frowned perceptively at the trio. These must be the racers Aubs is subbing for. Hope they mentioned what kind of feline it was in here. And, if they had, his partner really was a masochist. Still, he and his Pokemon got the typical spiel. A claw pointed to a nearby bookshelf and a snacking area. And, after the paperwork was complete, a beverage of choice.


As Alastor moved to mark the trio off the list, the door to the back swung open. Behind it, his trainer stood in her white jacket. One scarred hand rested on a crying elderly woman’s elbow. “I promise we will do all we can.” The touch was almost ghostly, the redhead wanting to be comforting but never quite sure where the boundary ended between that and crowding. Aubre tried her best to reassure the older woman, though the look in her eyes was one of somber resignation. “I’ll call you the minute we know more.”


Only after the older woman had made it to her car, did Aubre let herself turn to her next patient. “Josh Devlin? Aslan?” She quietly asked the room. A few eyes lifted to her. Many of them she felt were critical. Wondering why this young man got to go ahead of them. As her eyes locked onto the blonde, her lips perked up slightly. Though she no longer dreamt of the training circuit, she recognized a gym leader when she saw one.


Walking over to him, she offered a scarred hand to shake. “I’m Doctor McKenna. I apologize that the rehab specialist wasn’t in today. But it’s not every day you have a new baby. Or, at least, I hope not. That’d be horrific, wouldn’t it?” Then, her eyes dropped to the patient. For a moment, her heart jumped into her throat. Images of angry fire came to mind as she felt an itching at the core of her back. Breathe. Feel the coat on your hand. It’s nice and stiff, huh? With a shaky nod to the two fire cats, she went to lead them to the backroom.


At the counter, her eyes turned to the lizard with a raised brow. A paper rose to her. ‘He said cat. Nobody said what kind.'


“After you, gentlemen, please.” The short woman held the door open for the trio, careful to keep her feet out of the way. A Skiploom waited on the other side of the door, grinning wide.

Aubre surprised herself sometimes. Or, well, a lot of the times. After the attack, she thought the lioness in her had shifted into a mewling kitten. Its teeth were ripped out and its voice along with it. But, more and more lately, the redhead wondered if it’d just gotten quiet. The sheepish part of her regretted stepping in here, but morally she knew it’d been the right thing to do. Attacking other people—especially in a crowded place—was never okay.


The ghost type’s show of affection was met with a small, somber smile.It reminded her of how Elouise used to give her hugs. Which, for a Mantine, were always a clumsy, messy thing. “See to it that you do, all right?” Aubre murmured softly, putting on her best mom expression.She even folded her arms for good measure, though the nervousness was still visible. “Losing a partner isn’t easy.” A fond look was dropped to Alastor at her feet. “Right, Al?” The lizard just grunted, blinking moisture away from his baby blues.


Alastor shook his head at his trainer as she stepped back from the counter. Though it didn’t seem like a huge deal—since her rat of a husband wouldn’t miss it—the Helioptile knew that she’d have done it if she’d been starving. The dummy always put others first. Even shifty weasels like this guy. His pen scribbled across the page’s bottom. “I hope so.” His attention then shifted to the ghost-type. He pointed to another line. “You too.”


Aubre stepped away from the counter. For a moment, panic clouded her face. What am I going to do with all of this ice cream? I don’t even know what half of these taste like! But there’s so much food insecurity—it would be wrong to just throw it out. After a deep breath, she felt a smile cross her face. “Excuse me, um, I’m sorry I did not get your name.” She turned to Garrett. “But do you think you could help me carry these?” Not wanting to be seen as lazy, she held up a hand. “I do mean help, by the way. I would not ask you to do something I wouldn't."


A smile appeared on her face. “I am hoping some kids are in the mood for vanilla and—” Green eyes narrowed. Her nose wrinkled. “Red…seduction?” As her idea was given, Aubre saw red rise in the vendor’s cheeks. “And, well, most kids won’t mind that a ghost touched it. I mean most of them would find that pretty cool.” A pause followed. “Or, well, at least some of them would.”


Nothing gave her the right to speak for all kids.

If there were not lives at stake, Aubre would have lingered in her daughter’s touch. Such shows of affection were lessening as of late. Michaela had discovered a stubborn independent streak. With that, came a sudden aversion to mommy’s hugs and kisses. Which, Aubre supposed was better than the total indifference the girl displayed toward her father. More amusing, however, was the toddler’s newfound insistence on mismatched shoes.

“Me too….” The redhead murmured to herself, allowing scarred fingers to linger on her daughter’s dirt-streaked curls. In this situation, there’d been no time to contemplate mortality—hers nor her child’s. But, as the dust settled, the gravity of what might have happened crashed into her like a more figurative meteor. What if you lost her today? A few yards over and either of you could have a star-shaped hole in your chest. With a slight tremble to her voice, Aubre repeated her earlier statement. Her lips pressed gently against the peak of her daughter’s forehead. “Me too.”

Still, now was not the time to break. The Minior did not do this on purpose and deserved help. After all, something about this, like so many problems in the natural world, was likely humanity’s fault. That was one reason Aubre woke up every day to do the job that she did. It was an attempt to try and make up for all the wrongs her kind had visited on this planet. Though she freely admitted it felt like digging to Kanto with a spoon.

The talk of the impact made the woman sigh. You forgot about them for a minute, didn’t you? Way to go, Aubre. Some doctor you are. ” Dark-lashed eyes lifted to the new gouge in the canopy. “At least they will be easy to find.” Just follow the carnage to its endpoint and see what was left at the end of the figurative rainbow. Gently grasping her child’s hand, she and the Girafarig moved in the direction of the destruction.

His prosthetic creaked with each step as he gently nudged the toddler forward.

“Can you check on the other one, please? It should be just past that tree. The one with the GY on it.” Likely a message from some long-ago lovers. Why people thought massacring plants was romantic, the doctor would never know.

After a moment, a small plume of smoke led her to a hole. At its base, a Minior blinked a bright green. Making sure no one was behind her, Aubre tugged her jacket off. Beneath the sleeves, angry scars curled from the edges. “Come here. I just want to take a look at you.” Her words were soothing. Not caring about the dirt, she pulled the rock type from his impromptu tomb.

“Well, I—I don’t think this one's injured. Just shaken.” Aubre chuckled. “His head must be as hard as mine.”

After the introductory hand received no response, it folded back into its owner’s lap. There, it picked idly at the few trailing threads on the bottom of her hoody, Big green eyes focused on the rolling seas before her. One that her own family could be staring at halfway around the robe. Somehow, that idea gave her a small sense of comfort.

While normally content with silence, holding it with a stranger felt wrong. Should she say something? Was this his way of telling her off? Fingers tapped at her knees to an inaudible song. Maybe it was just an urge to not come across as unfriendly. Not that anyone had ever accused her of that. Not out loud, anyway. She was sure people thought all kinds of terrible things.

Fortunately, the man spoke before her Chinese finger-trap brain could conjure up some sick, twisted omen. The talk of diving drew a smile. “I really enjoy it, especially shallow diving.” The real monsters rarely came up to the land’s edge. It was in the mystery of the abyss that the real terrors dwelled. Well, those who were not people anyway. “I haven’t done it since I—I used to have a Mantine.” Surprisingly, though it still ached to mention the water type, the sting wasn’t raw and aching. It made Aubre guilty. “And I’ve seen far worse up here than down there.”

Maybe it was a good thing that 70 percent of the oceans were untouched.

Way to be depressing, Aubre. Can you avoid death for 10 minutes? Honestly. Quickly—and awkwardly—the doctor tried to pivot away from the topic. “Do you dive just for fun, then? Do you do salvage?” With the region’s rich aquatic history, gods only knew what lurked beneath the waves. The return of the earlier Seismotoad was ignored. Though the arrival of a Swoobat in a nearby tree was met with a small, peaceful smile. After a night of flitting, the little creature was no doubt exhausted. The bags under its eyes were almost larger than hers.

Hopefully, the Marshtomp's splashing didn’t keep it up.

The second the tch left her mouth, Aubre felt guilty about it. She was not old enough to be this boy’s mother and had no right to lecture him like one. There were a hundred different reasons he could partake in risky behavior. And a personality defect was only a small percentage of that. Way to be judgmental, Aubre. Why not just sew a scarlet letter on him and put him in the stocks for the night?


“Few people do—unless they make a living at it.” That or they thrived on adrenaline. She did that once. Or, at least, that was one reason she did trick flying. A finger rose for advice. “Though it can help to consider all potential consequences of a situation. Obsessing over them, though, is not much.” Something she understood quite well. The squawking from the birds drew a quiet laugh, one the doctor hid behind her sweater’s sleeve.


“It’s plain how much they care about you, at least.” Her cheeks reddened. Her fingers tugged at the hems of her sleeves. Let’s just imply he is a neglectful trainer while we’re at it. Great idea. A correction was not long in coming. "And, well, vice versa, of course.” In her time at the clinic, she had seen some Pokemon were quite the opposite. The looks they gave their trainers were practically threats. Then, of course, there were the hoarders. The people who took wild, sentient beings from the wild to collect dust in some box somewhere.


“Well, you can always drop by for a visit. It’d help them be more comfortable.” Most Pokemon (and people) hated the doctor. “I would love someone dropping by for a simple check-up. It really is a relief from all the—” Broken bones and horrific battle injuries. The grim diagnoses for birds who would never fly again. Aubre’s smile was tight, like a rubber band drawn too tight. “--pressure.” Though the other doctors had their fair share of leads, she felt like a Mandibuzz for taking them into her queue. Especially since the other two specialists were real professionals with years of experience beneath their belts. The ink was still drying on her own doctorate.


At the talk of the business, she forced a smile. “The clinic itself has been around a while. But it moved after I joined. The price and convenient location were too good to pass up.” Aubre sighed to herself. “I do prefer the solitude myself, but after how we immigrated, we couldn’t afford to be…picky.” The lizard rolled his eyes at his trainer and set off to scribbling.


‘Her husband’s a mobster.’ The paper read in his surprisingly neat scrawl. Aubre turned to look, nodding mindlessly like a bobblehead. Then, her face froze in terror. “Al! That isn’t funny! Just because he’s—just because the shoe fits—you are just perpetuating a stereotype.” The redhead was an awful liar, and she knew it. Before he could write something else, the woman plucked his pen from his hand. Only a large letter ‘T’ was visible from the other side.


“Sorry—” She laughed. “Al has a very unique sense of humor." When she turned, he’d conjured another pen. ‘They’re not bad.’

• player/ooc name: dyfalu
• character tags: Aubre McKenna-Settentrione Harper Mann Nikita Sokolov Madeline McKenna Lydia Magnusson Calpurnia Kubrick Ozni Adebayo
• dropped characters' tags (if applicable): N/A
• ic posts for characters: aubs harper oz madd nikki lydia
• are characters in directories?: Y
• any notes/comments:

thalia black Galayne Valois parker jones Aurelie Lefevre

This particular doctor made house calls. Or, in this case, base of operation calls. Getting past the line to encounter her client had been a nightmare in and of herself. Each word was not only second but triple-guessed as the guard rattled through his questionnaire. The Heliolisk at her side, scribbling in his notebook, was obviously unimpressed.


'Talk about a Buckethead.' Alastor flipped the paper up into his trainer’s line of sight. Her cheeks flared a bright rose as she moved to cover it with a shaking hand.


Finally, she was waved inside. Doe green eyes shot suspiciously to the rift's edge as she headed toward her destination. Through its shimmerings, she sometimes caught sight of a cuckoo clock world. There, she would be given three separate Pokemon. All of them were flying types who had suffered injuries during exploration. Aubre’s intention was to pick up the three and take them to her associated rehab center for treatment.


Thankfully, the pick-up happened without incident. The balls were deposited into her satchel as she turned her sights homeward. There, she was rejoined by her Skiploom, a Marshtomp, and a stoic Kabutops. “Thank you guys for waiting. It really was not necessary—but it is appreciated." Which she had just said.


Unfortunately, danger often strikes when you thought yourself safe. That was why so many accidents occurred just a block or two from home. One moment they were heading towards the Corviknight station and the next they were falling through a tear in space-time. With a grunt, Aubre smashed into the cobbles of the forgotten city. Her eyes widened as the Pokemon crowded around her. “Oh, Arceus…” She swallowed. “This is the—we’re—what are we going to—” Aubre took a deep breath. Panicking was not going to get her out of here.


“It’s going to be okay, Aubre.” She cast her eyes around for a glowing exit sign. The Pokemon, a bit more adventurous, looked at a nearby bloom of metal flowers.


The thoughts of escape turned to terror as she noticed the sound of metallic wingbeats. The sky was suddenly blackened as the mechanical Corviknight above them fixed an angry red eye on the ground. It shrieked and its cave was whipped about like a mace as it folded its wings into a dive. Bones of its past victims rolled from the caves as it drew closer.


Normally, Aubre would have pleaded with it for calm but this machine had nothing to plead to. Where its heart was rested a mass of rusted, chipped gears.


“Roman, try and obscure its vision. Please.” A mud shot erupted from between the Kabutop’s scythes, hitting home between the metal behemoth’s eyes. Thick dirt obscured its eyes as the creature shrieked. Suddenly, its claws seemed to double in length.


Returning her Pokemon to their balls—a rare thing—Aubre took off towards a small space between two pillars. The bird, deprived of its sensors, was forced to stab blindly at the air as it landed. The redhead’s heart flew into her throat. For a moment, she debated on just letting the thing carry it off to whatever hell this place had. Some part of her deserved it.


The sound of a human voice gave her some semblance of hope as she turned towards it. She was surprised by her own voice as she shouted at Aurelie. “We cannot stay out in the open. There should be somewhere around here to—” A big red eye pressed into a nearby gap as the automaton shrieked.“--hide.”


You could have tried to fight it, you know? But, no, you just couldn’t go out alone, could you? Let’s drag the disabled woman down with us. What a wonderful idea, Aubre. Oh, that internal voice was not what she needed right now.

Prompt Fulfilled: 13 battle, flee, or become captured by a massive mechanical Corviknight that continually hunts you to cage in the castle.

EXPEDITION TEAM

FAREWELL, MY FREE ADVENTURERS!

CHARACTERS: Aubre McKenna-Settentrione thalia black Galayne Valois Aurelie Lefevre parker jones
EXPEDITION #: first time
SELECTED PROMPT #s: 02, 14, 4, 13
TREASURES BROUGHT: N/A
NOTES:1 mega evolution