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[attr="class","bisc"]The blonde smiled at the owl, the expression surprisingly soft. Though the walls around her heart were tall and stern, they left much space for small, cute things to sneak their way in. A chink in her armor that she would prefer to hide but found impossible to resist. When she turned back to Lam, her smile was crooked. While Artichoke was charming, his anatomy was far from complicated. “I do not think you need to worry.” The noblewoman chuckled. “I believe he is all head at the moment.” At the talk of innate characteristics, Lydia spared a moment to think of her own.

Surprisingly, identifying them proved difficult.

Her faith and her family did so much to shape her that the blonde did not know where she began. So many years in the military, while teaching her the value of teamwork, did little to improve her sense of self. The owl’s proud display draws out more laughter. “Yes, he is.” That last s blurs until it takes on the buzz of a z. “A very handsome young bird.” While Lam’s lackadaisical attitude may have rubbed her wrong in certain situations, it was almost welcome here.


“I think it is to be expected.” When you were an accident—a fact no one ever let her forget—it could feel difficult to feel like one belonged. Especially after she learned the truth of why people jeered at her father behind his back. She regretted the day she could finally define the word ‘cuckold’. “I was an accident.” That is not to say she was unloved. Mother and father did their best, even if the latter was a distant man. “But I came here in hopes of doing just that.” Instead of a parent, she’d been knocked over the head and stripped of all her worldly possessions.

Though she barely passes five feet high, the soldier stands tall. “I am fine. Do not worry” To perish in a situation like this would be worth it. There was more worth here than waiting for her pension or sitting behind a desk at the VA office. The woman feels a sense of relief when the man vanishes from view. It is easier to fight without worries of collateral damage. As the Xatu approached, the pair cast a glance its way. Lydia offers it a nod as she fires another bullet toward the trapped serpent—aiming to shock it into pause.

The paired attacks are enough to stop the snake for a moment. “May Arceus bring you peace friend.”

These are Lydia’s last words as she backs down the slope to rejoin Lam. At his words, she nods. “It's just a flesh wound." Though acidic, the venom hadn’t stayed long enough to do anything beyond gnawing a hole in her shirt sleeve. Was that steel under there? A final glance up the hill reveals the Arbok hanging limply in defeat.

Though there should be fear in the veteran’s eyes, there is almost a manic exhilaration.

lam logan

☉

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Growing up on the shore—many days spent in the family lighthouse—Lydia had witnessed many migrations. When Father was not around, she would assist the Pokemon on their way. He was opposed to altering nature’s course.[break][break]
“It is not our place to decide their fate, Lydia.” A man who took a watchmaker’s approach to his worship of Lord Arceus. “If we interfere, we only weaken them.” This included not only clumsy attempts at protection but also whatever food she could sneak out of the cupboard.
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Much of that food washed up on shore a few days later. It seemed the intrepid adventurers did not appreciate offerings of Fruity Pebbles and Chips Ahoy. This included the Corsola that often graced their shores. The fact that her brother, the smarty pants, could not figure out the mess’s origins filled young Lydia with a sense of child-like glee.
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Right now, however, there is no hint of the veteran’s childhood idealism. Her face was the picture of solemn. Blue eyes roamed the seas around her, seeking signs of predatory fish. The boat she’s in is towed by a stately Kingdra. His red eyes are steely. “All clear—12 and 9.” Lydia’s faint accent floats across the waves.

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To see that she was competitive would be an understatement. Growing up the runt of the litter—both figuratively and literally—it wasn’t easy to prove your worth. That didn’t stop when you enrolled in the armed forces. People barely took her seriously at the grocery store, much less when she commanded a group of men who outweighed her by over a hundred pounds.
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But, by the time they hit the battlefield, all of them knew better than to mock her. None of them would even cast a snicker at her current outfit. The sports bra and designer skort were ideal for the sport.
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A sweaty hand lifted to shake her last opponent’s hand. Her pale lips were pressed into a thin line. An expression that might remind someone of an aggressive kitten. “Thank you for the match, monsieur.” The score stood in her favor. But she knew it could be higher. Grabbing the towel at her waist, the pint-sized powerhouse dabbed at her face. It came back damp.
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On the sidelines, her Lycanroc yawned. The Iron Valiant, meanwhile, tilted his head. It did not understand this battling technique. The projectile did not present any power. No one had died. “Bzzzzt?”

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Blue eyes lifted as Phuong entered the field. A breath banished the shaking in her tired legs. “Bonjour.” Lydia began in clipped tones. “I am Lydia.” The next question drew a moment of pensive thought. “I would be pressed to call it passable.” To her, that eight-to-two ratio was too far from perfect. She spun the racquet in her hand as she stepped toward the starting line. “You?”

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The blonde blinked. This was a truly odd man. Most people she was acquainted with possessed a very clear view of the universe’s order. Whether that be acknowledging the truthful light of Arceus’s guiding hand or complete denial of deities and their powers. For a moment, the veteran is pensive. Then, in an attempt at cordiality, she settled for a vague, emphatic response. “I see.”
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Still, she supposed there was something to be admired in his ignorance. It took a strong soul to admit a fault. It is admittedly something she herself struggles with. The insistence on making his fate draws a single nod. She bows slightly from the waist. “If that is what comforts you, I have no issue with it.” Her God was a kind one. He encouraged the roots to grow per his plan, but he did not prune them as a gardener might an unruly branch. Free will was a thing of beauty.

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LED screens blinked out as knuckles met steel. For an instant, it seems like the gesture shortcircuited the Iron Valiant. But the magenta irises soon return with a flash. “Brzzt?” It pulls its hand back with a mechanical frown. It turns its limb over curiously as if expecting damage. With a noise of consternation, the psychic type begins gently tapping its knuckles together.


Blue eyes slid toward the awkward automaton. “I believe pretty is the precise opposite of what I need, monsieur.”

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She knew the mission had been a trap. The odds were overwhelming. Her lips pressed together into a tight, bitter smile. “You knew I wouldn’t listen.” To abandon her teammates would conjure a guilt worth than death. Even if she had already known their fates. Perhaps that was proof that ignoring orders—be they from Arceus or a CO—was ill-advised.
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At the following quip, a rush of heated air escaped. An expression of irritation was quickly smothered by the noblewoman’s icy mask. “You act as if that is a bad thing, sir.” Lying took a surprising amount of effort. “I merely refrain from taking actions I feel the need to lie about.” Dishonesty required the sewing skills of an Ariados. You needed to ensure the strands did not collide in unsightly ways. So, while her siblings excelled at bureaucratic nonsense, Lydia resigned to a frankness often reserved for the masculine.
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The blonde dropped her eyes to the sand beneath them. “Orre?” Her lips pressed together thoughtfully as she tried to discern a difference between the dunes behind and forward. “I would think you felt quite at home.” Slowly dropping into a crouch, Lydia picked up a fist-sized rock. “That lawless mess was practically made for you.” With a grunt, she lobbed the rock forward.
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It landed with a thunk. Her nostrils narrowed as nothing happened. What a fool she’d been, taking a mercenary’s words at face value. “It is certainly a better place for your—” The earth rumbled beneath them. The rock disappeared as an unseen beast darted toward it. A blonde brow jerked upward. “Hm.”
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That rock had been off-center. Just a few feet southward. Close enough to bring the yawning pit’s edge beneath them. “!?” Lydia fell with a grunt as the solid earth vanished beneath them. Sand quickly swelled to trap her legs as she grasped at rocks beneath the swirling sand.