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[attr="class","oznimain"]The CEO grinned down at the royal, the very picture of the Cheshire Cat. “Awwww, I didn’t take you for a softie.” The fact that she did not push him to stop amuses him. Mostly because it was so obvious she wanted to, and that he’d just dig his heels in if she tried. Annoyance was weakness—a potential wound to sink your teeth into. “What a doll,” Oz murmured offhandedly to the Pokemon beside him. The Arctozolt just clapped its little flippers.

“What the heck’s a—” Ozni starts to ask a question but pauses. “Nevermind. I got it.” Though the signal is weak his phone gets the job done. Blue eyes jump up to the flying monstrosities. After a moment, he shrugs. Their throats were awfully shiny. “Guess it fits.” Then, the dino bugs appear. A brow goes up as Ozni leans over the cliff to get a better look.

His eyes alight on a weird dip in the stone. Another one of those weird footprints. Not his problem though.

Now those things were cool. “OMG. Look at the babies! Talk about fluffy!” A squawk of alarm from his Arctozolt brings him back to the presence and the dragons above him. “Take them out, baby girl!” With a shrill noise, the genetic monstrosity summons a Rock Slide. Boulders slam into fragile wing joints as rocks fall around them.

Trusting his girl to handle things, Ozni grins. “Sounds like a plan, babe.” If she wasn’t so far away, he’d offer her a hand up. But he didn’t feel like getting that close. A Slither Wing slams into his Jynx like a battering ram. An empathetic wince punctuated his encouragement. “Don’t let him sass you like that, OOI!” Trying to shake off the blow, the ice-type rises woozily to her feet. Her eyes flare a blinding cerulean as she calls down a Blizzard on her opponents.

The other two Pokemon continue to push forward. The Dodrio hops from enemy to enemy, driving its teeth through glass panels with Drill Peck. That ugly hand thing, meanwhile, charges into the fray, its body suddenly pointed thanks to its Razor Shell.

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[attr="class","oznimain"]A gym leader and a trainer? Just another teenage boy’s wet dream. Talk about a snooze fest. “Is that right? Out here to catch them all?” The chat lit up with new messages. Half of them mocking, a quarter crooning women, and the rest yawn emojis. Not everyone could be a winner.

As the Delphox reached for the camera, the CEO stiffened. He rushed over to pull his glitchy Pokemon back. It’d stopped moving like a Boo in the path of a flashlight. Like Ozni, it didn’t exactly like touchy-feely stuff. “Yo, mamacita!” The scold holds an uncharacteristic bite. “Keep your hands off the merchandise!” The Porygon’s head did a full swivel as it turned to face his trainers. “It’s expensive.” Whether he meant the normal type or the camera itself was hard to tell.

Any irritation vanished as Zachy turned the conversation to Oz’s favorite subject: himself.

That easy, bored smile grew into a blinding screen of white as he grinned. “I’m Ozni Adebayo—CEO of Adebayo Industries. The world’s consumer goods marketplace.” He gestured at the guy’s bright hair. “And probably why your hair looks so nice.” A charming wink followed. At the question about what he was doing here, the man pondered for a moment. “I like showing our customers cool shit, and this place has neat written all over it.” Most of these poors would never get a chance to leave their region, much less experience something like this.

It also helped with the fact that their company was seen as stody. A bunch of old white men twisting their villainous mustaches in clandestine meetings to try and jack up the price of toilet paper. Or, worse yet, contributing to an oil spill in the ocean because his dad cut regulations.

At the talk of demise, Oz laughed. “Well, I don’t plan the slowest person here—” His Porygon dropped its camera to show off well-toned legs. “And I’m pretty sure you and me can beat the Peanut Gallery in hopscotch.” A thumb jerked toward the people behind them. Most of them were magpie-ing over rocks and other stuff.

As they turned into a thinner passageway, the CEO paused. A hand lifted to his neck. “Hey, Z-man.” He lifted a hand to wipe away his sweat. “Is it just me or is it getting kinda toasty in here?” With that movement, his Comfey spots wiggling in his hoody. Dipping to his neck, she encourages the Joltik to get out of there, but it only hunkers down.

It’s terrified.

Oz hates bugs, so she doesn’t say anything.

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[attr="class","oznimain"]“Sir—” The mercenary ranger lifted a hand toward him. “Are you sure you don’t want us to just—” Blue eyes narrowed to uncharacteristically angry slits. For a moment, his normal grin shifted into a frown. There was a glimmer of something irritated. Then, as quick as it came, the smile reappeared. That mischievous, cheese-eating grin was on full display.

“Nah, babes.” A caramel hand spread across his chest. “Daddy’s got it.” He squeezed the man’s shoulder as he departed. As always, his emails and responsibilities were just a pocket away. The company was established enough that it didn’t need him babysitting it all the time. That was why most of his energy went to developing the next, best, and greatest in Adebayo.

But, right now, he was bored. His upcoming meetings could have all been emails. There was zero reason to sit there looking pretty.

So, it was time to pick back up on a very personal quest.

Last time he’d been here, his Dodrio had taken him for an involuntary ride. Today, he didn’t intend to make that mistake. Instead, he would keep his feet firmly planted on terra firma. His Comfey and Arctozolt walked next to him, the pair of pals enjoying the heated air. “This is the spot guys.” Somebody had seen the weasel this weak—it was time to flush him out.

With a crooning cry, the Comfey began releasing a sweet scent over the forest.

Notes
Normal/Grass/Fairy

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[attr="class","oznimain"]Some guy told him there were Pokemon around here. And he’d just picked up his special edition tennies with real gold aglets. They even had little gold stitched wings on the sides!

In other words: they were the definition of fly. And, with an hour before his fiscal meeting, Oz saw no harm in traipsing through the hills. It was the kind of stuff a strapping young trainer did. It wasn’t like the mall was next to anything dangerous, minus the food poisoning at Chuck E. Cheese’s.

Beside him, a glittering pile of gold coins lollygagged. Its confident smile and grin were a perfect match for his trainer. “Nice day, eh, Chippy?” It only took a few minutes to remind him why everybody hated new shoes.

Entertained by his trainer’s awkward gait, the Gholdengo began to imitate him.

NOTES
Normal/Fairy/Ghost

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[attr="class","oznimain"]Honestly, the prima donna didn’t pay much attention to the baggage. His camera shots were specially engineered to show him alone. His viewers didn’t care to see the help. But the Porygon-Z swung a bit too far to the right. A tuft of teal hair appeared on camera. Then, the messages flooded in:

“Who’s that, Ozzie? Your boyfriend?”
“He’s cute!”

“Need someone fatter if you’re giving the thing a sacrifice!”

“Kind of creepy that he hasn’t said anything!”

“Aw, man! That Kirlia’s cute! Bow chica wow wow!”

Note to self— The businessman’s nose wrinkled. --ban that guy.

Stopping mid-step, Ozni gestured the Porygon toward Zachary. It swung closer to him, its high-end camera swinging from its bottom limb, With a flourish, the CEO moved to tug the psychic specialist in closer. Muscular arms moved to tug him in. Personal space received zero consideration. “Hey, babes! This is Z-man!” He waved enthusiastically at the screen.

“Tell the people about yourself, bud!” Those teeth were blindingly white and sharp. Some part of him was annoyed, but it was hard to spot. Just a little crease between two manicured brows. “What brings you to Hades, kid?” A hand lifted to scratch at his back as something yellow and fuzzy dropped on his shoulder.

Drifting slightly ahead, his Comfey continued to follow the tracks in the soil. As they went on, they got clearer.

And, holy crap, were they huge. Tiny eyes narrowed as she dropped even lower. “Feco!” Were those scorch marks? (‘That’s not good.’)

t7M6CN8x

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[attr="class","oznimain"]Ozni felt weird as he looked his savior down. This dude looked like a kid. That or someone who skipped supper a couple of times. He really hoped it was the former. Using minors for flesh shields didn’t win brownie pants. As the Iron Thorns burst through, Oz’s blue eyes skipped upward. “Damn para-what now?” Seems like it wasn’t a case of dino armor after all.

Normally, Oz would have protested. Maybe insisted he was a strong, independent black man who could handle himself. But, in this case, he’s quick to step behind Sage. His foot slid back. Some part of him wanted to keep running. The curious shit-starter in him, meanwhile, wanted to see what happened. He took a deep, shuddering breath. “Awwwww! My hero!” Ozni grinned. “Don't get in the way! You got it."


Ozni slid his attention to the fairy type beside him. Let’s give baby-boo here a hand. HHis viewers shouldn’t see him doing nothing; As the orders were dispensed, his Comfey drifted forward. Her little lips quivered with nerves “Lei!”

The grass-type summoned a Flower Shield, aiming to give her companions an added layer of protection.

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[attr="class","oznimain"]Ozni grinned down at her. “Aww, don’t sound so grumpy, Calcifet.” Broad shoulders lifted in a shrug. “It’s what I call everybody.” That knight of hers? The council people? A literal god? Everybody was a babe. For him, it was like an upgrade of the world dude. It also gave him a fun verbal tick that helped him stand out. And knowing it annoyed somebody? Well, it just made him want to do it more. Even bad attention was still attention.

A Cheshire’s grin crawled across his face as his three Pokemon entered the field. The Barbaracle seemed the most prepared, its clawed hands curled into fists. “Here’s hoping.” He raised an invisible glass for a non-existent toast as the Dazzling Gleam ripped across the battlefield. Ozni let out a sharp, ear-splitting whistle. “Talk about a pint-sized powerhouse! That puppy has more gleam than a drag show!” He dropped his gaze to the three creatures beneath him. Please don’t embarrass daddy, babies.

“Soooo, What do you call these flying tin cans?” Oz was never big on Pokemon. They were mostly tools and only a few were worth getting to know.

The Barbaracle moves first. An Ancient Power tear gouges into the stones around them, giant boulders flying at the dark-type dragons in the sky. Metal plating falls away as these stones make contact. The Dodrio, meanwhile, charges into the fray with zero care for its wellbeing. Over and over, it lashes at the approaching horde with Drill Peck. The last to act, the Jynx backs away from the battle; she dislikes the idea of getting her hands dirty or bringing her mind anywhere near these steel-plated barbarians. After a moment, she throws out a Copy Cat.

Another Dazzling Gleam rips across the field as the ice type narrows its eyes.

As the area is swarmed, Oz again raises his voice. “You sure you wanna stay down there, babe?” He draws a thumb across his neck. “It’s a little neglect-ey on the safety-ey.”

cEYdmYNt

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[attr="class","oznimain"]Ozni could feel bruises forming on his face. Something wet dripped down the left cheek, dying the sand beneath him maroon. A swipe of his lips came back tasting of iron. His normally grinning lips pressed into a thin line as he continued to slither toward the sharpened rock. “These guys are going to pay for this shit.” With no audience to be a performing seal for, that man of the people persona faded. Again, he struggled to break the cuffs only tightening them in the process. “Get over here you stupid, stupid piece of shit—” He wrapped his tongue around the shard and clenched it between his teeth.

Not all the grunts were gone, though most were retreating. A flying type sent a Hurricane whirling toward the Steelix, aiming to stop its stampede. This whipped the debris into a storm. Rocks smashed into tents and ripped holes in the canvas. But it also showed Oz that the side of his tent wasn’t wholly secured. The white fabric was sent upward like a starlet’s skirt as the dragon-typed move wore itself out. It also blew away some of the smoke, giving Ozni a moment of insight. Keeping his weapon close, the CEO and his shattered chair pushed his torso outside.

“Ah, ah, hah…” Ozni struggled to catch his breath in the cool air. With oxygen back on the menu, he gave up struggling for a minute. He let his head fall back to the disturbed dirt.

Ugh! Elevated!? This thing was buggy. “(I mean not short. He’s darker than you.”) The Comfey bobbed her head in gratitude as she swirled idly in the air. She was not a dog or cat. Her sense of smell wasn’t the best. And it wasn’t like he was made of pollen. Knowing he wasn’t in the tents next to hers, the fairy-type turned in the opposite direction. After a moment, she drifted toward the opposite side of the camp. Maybe they kept him and the other prisoners in the middle like in action movies? Did anywhere have a lot of guards? (“This way!”)

A Shadow Ball shot through the air in front of the le. (“Fey!”) There’s no translation this time. Just a moment of terror as a Banette and a trainer with a twisted leg step out from behind a tent. A gun shakes in his hand. “You fucking bitch—!” The hammer goes back as the Comfey’s eyes narrow.

KD1yEmQq

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[attr="class","oznimain"]He expected an excited squeal. Maybe a mention of that book he’d published last year. A poor like this would usually dance to his tune for a few pennies. Instead, he got a flapjack stack of flack. Oz pulls the gift card back as if the kid had just sprouted a Krokorok’s jaw. With a huff, the CEO took a step back. “No need to be so hostile, kid.” His eyes dropped to the $100 iTunes gift card, wondering if the brat was shortsighted. “Geeze. I’d hate to see how you treat Santa."

His Comfey drifts over to the Alolan Marowak. She seems to be sizing him up. A quick glance reveals a strange little device around her neck a tiny piece of technology no bigger than a fingernail. Not too concerned about Princess Lei’s behavior Oz takes a minute to compose himself. A hand runs through tight braids as he takes in a deep breath of air. “Look, kid.” Fingers pluck the designer sunglasses from his face. He holds them in the same v-configuration as the gift card. “I’m not here to scam anybody. I just need help testing—” Then, that devilish grin makes a reappearance.

“Well, she can tell you all about it.” The Comfey turns to her trainer with a befuddled blink. “Feey?” He turns up the tiny device at his side—not too dissimilar to a Walkman. (“What?”) A feminine voice erupts from two places—around the fairy-type’s neck and at Oz’s belt. The CEO makes a rolling gesture with his fingers.

Quite enjoying her newfound ability to be (mostly) understood, the grassy Pokemon continues. (“It’s a—”) The thing buzzed as it tried to translate a concept the Comfey didn’t understand. The delay was pronounced. (--tranlator. We just need more voice samples!”) Hopefully, that’d pull the wedgie out of grumpy pant’s crack.

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[attr="class","oznimain"]“You just can’t enjoy it too much.” Oz is quick to reply. “Everything in moderation.” His wagging finger is the pinnacle of hypocrisy. The Adebayo CEO wouldn’t know how to moderate if his life depended on it. Honestly, it likely would one day. But he’d just figure it out when that happened. Sure, he was a shark in the boardroom, but life required a more adaptable approach.

The conversation flowed between them like a ball in a tennis match. The girl’s energetic nature only amped up Oz’s attitude. His responses were quick and pithy. Though the compliment did make him pause long enough to run a hand through his hair. The thought of him sporting bubblegum pink is tempting. It’d make some of the other bigwigs cry. Another toothy grin erupts his urge to show off to the pretty lady going from a grumble to a demanding roar. “What can I say? Brown goes with everything.”

Hands drummed an unidentified beat on the wheel. “It is. This chef’s a genius—used to cook for the royal family in Galar.” He grinned as he threw himself out of the car. “As for the supervillain thing? He does[/i\ have a cat with alopecia.” With a half-mocking bow, he tugged Sylvia’s door open. Her arm was accepted without a word as he proceeded to almost skip to the front door. That excitement was almost endearing, and he figured it'd only get worse. Taking people in here usually got the kind of reaction the TARDIS did.

If she was particularly astute, the spy would notice that none of the cars seemed to fit in here. A few of them even had drivers reclined in their seats. Most of them had complicated alphabet-soup brand names.

With a flourish, the CEO pushed the front door open. The dim lighting revealed an immaculate foyer behind the painted glass. The place looked like a luxury restaurant taken right from the streets of Alto Mare. Every corner of it breathed expensive. And, as they approached the counter, they received a haughty sneer. The maitre’d looked at them as if they were gnats. “Name?’ The young, immaculate man sneered.

“Adebayo.” Looking patently unimpressed, the little duck gave a wave before toddling off toward a spiral staircase.

CVWatgTn

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[attr="class","oznimain"]Talk about stereotypes having a streak of truth. This redhead was a real firecracker. But seeing him get grumpy—all serious like some religious teacher—made Oz snort.

It didn’t help that the guy was tiny and totally capable of pulling off a habit. Fortunately, the CEO had the wherewithal to try and look recalcitrant. A forced cough hopefully took the sting out of it. Then, of course, he started talking about punishment.

“Punish me?” Ozni tried his best to look aghast. A hand lifted to his chest as he threw a paranoid glance behind him. “I mean that Adebayo guy is a douche, but why chop my balls off for it?” As the Porygon-Z continued to circle him, the man waved it away like an annoying gnat. “Can’t you just arrest this thing?” The talk of lawsuits only made him a little uncomfortable. A SLAPP suit here and there just kept legal fit. Unless this guy worked somewhere important, none of this would actually matter.

The next question conjured a look of pity. Ozni turned to the Porygon-Z as if to share an empathetic glance. Poor kid had probably never been laid. Or, maybe, his parents thought sexual fulfillment was a crime. “Oh, you sweet summer child. That explains a lot.” The man gave a shake of his head. “I’d tell you to look it up but that’d be a tall order.” That phone probably wasn’t quite ready to plum the depths of the internet. So, instead, the darker man leaned in close. His hot breath would wash over the ranger’s ear. “It’s the theory that porn exists of everything.”

His cocky grin returned. “Me.” Not that shocking really. Pops may be a dick, but he had good genes for days. “You.” His fingers wiggled at the boy like some inflatable at a car lot. He then turned to the thing flitting around him. “Sexy Porygons.”

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[attr="class","oznimain"]Above the research station, Ozni perched like some dark comic book hero. Well, kind of. The stupid, excitable grin on his face kind of broke the impression. As his eyes swept across the landscape, his eyes caught on a marching group—a weird grouping of future meets past. A long whistle emerged as he tried to count what was charging their way. It reminded him of a classic rock concert. Old boomer accountants sitting next to punk kids with enough piercings to explode an MRI machine.

Originally, he had planned to slide triumphantly down the slope next to him—looking like a total badass while doing it. But an earlier encounter with these monstrous things told him they weren’t anything to mess with. That nasty Godzilla knockoff had eaten his shoe. His very expensive, very limited shoes. So, he decided to trade a superhero for man-in-the-chair. His viewers would get a better view anyway. “Yo!” He shouted at the violet-haired woman below him. She reminded him of a Lolita chick mixed with a Disney princess knockoff.

The colors were all wrong though. Anyone worth their salt knew purple was a villain color.

“You’ve got bogies at 12, 6, an-- all-the o’clock, babe.” After a moment of debate, he grabbed three Pokeballs and dropped them to the ground below. They popped open in a triple burst of red light. From them, a Dodrio, a Jynx, and a Barbaracle emerged, a.k.a the expendables. “These guys can lend a hand.” Luckily, his voice was big and proud.

Unluckily? Some of their opponents had wings.

mzWmUVGr

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[attr="class","oznimain"]Ozni was putting his legs to work. If he’d seen the footage, the CEO would have taken a second to admire his form—the way he bounded through this Dark Crystal death trap like some funky gazelle. Though his Pokemon were right behind him, the guy hadn’t paid them a second thought. Sure, they were cool little dudes, but his well-being came first, second, and third. The idea of fighting Mecha Godzilla never crossed his mind—he wasn’t a get-your-hands-dirty kind of guy.

Breathing heavily—lungs burning—Ozni burst from a gap between two purple tera crystals. His Comfey brushed against one of these as she barely avoided getting chomped by the Iron Thorns. “Fey!” She shouted at the lizard, her irritation enough to confuse the beast. It made a roaring noise in its chest, accompanied by the piston's whoosh. The charging beast bounced off the healer’s grassy shield, temporarily pinning it in place.

“COM!” She seemed ready to give the thing a lecture when Ozni noticed bait someone else up ahead. If he could hear himself, the squeak would have driven him nuts. A caramel hand lifted in a frantic wave. “Yo! Go-go gadget earthquake!” The man tried his best to get Sage’s attention. “We’ve got a capital S situation here!” Notably, he did not slow until he passed the masked person. A hand brushed a crystal as he drew to a hard stop.

The Iron Thorns finally shook off the effect of Mommy’s scolding. Sparks began to gather in its mouth as it prepared a mega-sized Electro Ball. The shield Princess Lei conjured up looked like tissue paper next to it.

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