The TV's still playing, but you can barely hear it anymore. Partially, that's because you've got a thick bathroom door. Partially, it's because you're on such a weird buzz that your ears are numb. Mainly, it's because you have a lingering case of tinnitus that you've never bothered to get fixed. Is that the right word? Can you even fix tinnitus?

Can you even fix yourself?

The answer is no to both. There's no known cure to tinnitus, and nothing can stop you from being a horrible fuck-up. Seriously, what happened to you today is nothing short of a phenomenon. You're currently BACK IN TIME, and you chose to spend this time laying in bed and getting drunk? What the fuck is even wrong with you? You've been handed this on a silver platter! You got a perfect mulligan, a dream scenario, and you completely squandered it! Are you really that stupid?

Bile is raising in your throat. Your left arm feels stiff. Your skin feels like it's burning up. Feeling this much like shit makes your brutal (though not incorrect) self-critique sting all the more. This sucks. This fuckin' sucks. You fuckin' hate this. You had so much potential to do something cool or exciting or clever or impactful, and you just did nothing. You completely wasted it.

Story of your life, you gue--

"GHURGH!"

--You're interrupted by vomit bursting out of your mouth and into the sink, then a sharp pain in your temples, and then the end of this terrible, terrible timeline.

...Nevermind, gun's out of bullets. Crisis averted.

...Hm. You did not mean to send that to her, of all people. Hm. Hm! HM.

"Unbelievable."

Alright, change of plans...

MESSAGES - howard slayte
yea so he sent me to an alternate timeline or smthn
but im only back one day
so its basically just a day off yknow
seen 19:06

It's almost 9PM.

Well, no point looking too deeply into it. He probably just dropped his phone in the toilet or something. Or maybe he secretly hates your guts and hopes you die? Both strong possibilities, but you're leaning more towards the former than the latter.

"Here we see Coalossal trying to get itself hit with a Water move, textboox maneuver, real great stuff! But, will it work? Will Inteleon fall for it and trigger that Steam Engine? Will he take the bait?"

Unfortunately, it does mean that your plans for tonight (texting Howard for twelve hours straight) are out the window. So that means its time to fall back on old reliable. Reaching over to your "bed"side "table", you pick up a half-empty can of lukewarm beer with one hand, and a stray "cigarette" with the other.

...Look, you know it's not exactly a glamorous way to spend your Saturday, but hey, what else are you gonna do with it?

And boy, do you ever wait it out.

The first thing you do? Go back to bed. You're still very hungover, and now that you're all-clear of being trapped in some kind of incomprehensible cosmic nightmare, you're sleeping until this skull-pounding headache goes away. You close your eyes, count Mareep, and you're asleep before you know it.

"...It's a tense start here: Rillaboom and Machamp, sizing each other up, waiting to see which'll lose their nerve and make the first move..."

When you finally stir for the second time, it's about 6PM, and that means you're due for dinner. One might think that means getting off your mattress, but actually, no. You just put in a GrubbinHub order on your phone, without so much as loving an inch. All it takes is a few taps and a 40% mark-up in "handling fees" and "service charges", and that's food sorted. But knowing how bad traffic gets in Slateport, it won't be here for a while yet, so you've got plenty of time left to laze around, watch television, and wait for your Sprigatito's™ Locos™ Tacos™ from Weepin' Bell™ to arrive.

And you haven't even got out of bed yet. Imagine that.

“...Thanks?”

You're not really sure what you're supposed to do with this. You already have a pen, you're not a big crystal guy, and a photocard for a celebrity you just heard about literally a minute ago is… Yeah. But, hey, gift horses and mouths and all that.

Would Lulu like it? Hm. You don't take her for an electro-pop girl. Better not chance it. You're on thin ice with her as it is.

“Well, see you around.”

With that, you turn to leave. Onward and upward, to the next battle…

…Seriously though, where the hell do you remember her from…?

---

Desiree wins, Shred loses.
DESIREE BLOOMS

The Gigantamax Eevee tries its best to overcome Meltan, but Meltan cannot be overcame. Despite all the struggling, despite the G-Max Cuddle, all it takes is one more well-aimed Flash Cannon to clatter the giant in the head. Such is the sheer power of metal.

CLANG! Clatterclatterclatter...

With a Meltan victory achieved, the Hex Nut leaps high into the air with a mighty "yippee!", celebrating his win. Meanwhile, you're just content with the fact that you didn't horribly lose this one. Different strokes for different folks, you suppose, even though it's more of a different glasses for different half-empty half-full, or... Okay, you've confused the metaphor a little. Never mind that.

"Good match."

Debatable, but hey, if you're going to so completely and utterly destroy this stranger in battle, then you may as well be polite about it.

---

Meltan WINS yippee!
illeana reyes

At that, you turn to leave.

...What, were you expecting some kind of witty commentary or poignant self-reflection or something? Hell no. You just got your ass kicked incredibly hard. There's nothing funny about that, and you certainly don't want to interrogate how it makes you feel. No, you're just getting the hell out of here.

One day, a neuron in your brain will misfire and erase this memory from your mind entirely, lost like tears in rain. Fingers crossed that day ends up being tomorrow.

---

Hideo Kino

"Yeah, one of these days."

Well, this is a really rough start, isn't it? Two matches in, and you've already got back to back losses on your record. That's a zero percent winrate, which somehow makes it sound even more bleak than it already is.

But hey, you're all warmed up now. You've gotten used to the tournament format, gotten used to battling with Meltan, and now you're ready to fight with all you've got. Now that you've kicked into gears, things'll start going your way and you'll start racking up wins. You think. You hope. Arceus, please, let things get better.

But hey, you've lingered long enough. Time to go find that next match you'll definitely win.

"Later."

---

Ashley Shepard

"Yep."

It's not a particularly personable response, but, well, you're pretty over this whole Vital City Tournament thing. Sure, Meltan's having fun, but really? You're mostly just tolerating it for his sake. Even then, you're getting pretty sick of being marched out into arenas and chalk-drawn battlefields. And for what? As far as you're concerned, there's nothing Vital to this City about this Tournament.

But hey, it's not all bad, is it? You still get Vitals for losing, and you've almost got enough to cash in at the prize corner for an air fryer, so you'll suffer through a few more.

Speaking of which, you turn around and leave, marching off to yet another match.

---

Josh Devlin

"...Yeah, you too."

Frankly, it's a little disconcerting how positive this guy is in the face of a fairly crushing defeat, but hey, who are you to judge? He's just a glass half full kind of guy. If there were more of him in the world, you'd be better-- Hm, no, actually, that's not how that works at all. On second thought, maybe the amount of him there currently is in the world is just fine. But hey, that number is more than one!

"hurray °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖° i win!

"You sure do, buddy." You scoop up Meltan, perching him on your shoulder as you begin to leave the arena. "Victory dinner's on me. What do you want?"

"ooo ooo! metal polish! the metal polish from the pokemart!

"You've got it, bud."

...You lead an interesting life, don't you?

---

Meltan WINS yippee!
ollie morales

The clash between Meltan and Froakie reaches its climax. Who would win? Who would lose? They were both equally matched, yet could the simple power of a Smack Down overcome the sheer might of a Meltan Chakra Sphere?

Yes. Chakra isn't real. Even you know that.

BONK.

"bweh!" Meltan yelps in pain as he's knocked out by the attack, his head turning to the sky as he flops backwards. Yet as he slips into unconsciousness, he has one last gem of wisdom left to impart: "but its okay (￣ε(#￣) because meltan means one who endures..."

"I don't think it does." You reply, scooping up Meltan and depositing him back into your pocket. Then, you look over towards Cian with a shrug. "Good match, good luck, yadda yadda, see ya round."

With that rather lacklustre word of goodbye, you turn to leave, preparing to finish off the rest of your burger. You didn't end up eating much, since you were preoccupied with the fight. But it was a pretty quick match, so it shouldn't be that cold, right? So, you prepare to take a bite and SPREAD 'EM TONGUE TONGUE SPREAD 'EM TONGUE CLAP 'EM PUMP IT PUMP IT PUMP IT...

...Yeah, no, this burger is ruined. Oh well. Such is life.

---

0/3 HP Remaining. Meltan loses. Froakie wins the match.
CIAN MAHER

You've failed.

You couldn't stop Kyurem from being torn apart. Hell, you couldn't even land a single hit on Palkia. The dragon of space doesn't even so much as tilt its head in your direction. Its all-seeing eyes do not even spare you a singular glance. But it isn't out of ignorance, no, it is fully aware that you are there. It is simply choosing not to acknowledge, you because it is so high, and you are so low.

Hierarchy. That's what it always is. The blessed and the wretched. The good and the bad. Her and you. Them and you. It's how its always been. For some reason, you hoped that if you denied the world, rejected the laws and morals of a world that hated you for the simple circumstances of your life, you could shed that yoke. When you reached the upper echelons of Team Rocket, when you earned the title of Rocket Beast with your own efforts, you thought you had done it. And yet, here you are, helpless before the power of this supposed God and its foremost disciple. All of your efforts were meaningless. No amount of struggle can allow an unfortunate soul to overcome a fortunate one.

This was all for nothing. You've lost.

And yet, as spacial distortions rip outward, illeana reyes's Blacephalon extends its Protect to you. You, the enemy. You, the defeated. You, undeserving on any help, and yet receiving it anyway. You look towards the alchemist with an expression that can only be described as awe.

"Why--"

You never get to finish that sentence.



The Hyper Beam hits.

The dead body of Shred Zeppelin lands at the feet of illeana reyes with a dull thud, killed by the Hyper Beam fired by howard slayte's Regice. Will history remember that it was PENELOPE LIVY who redirected the attack upon a wounded man, all but condeming him to his death? No. History will forget it, for the ones who write it will have the League standing over their shoulder, watching every letter and every word to correct every "error" and "mistake" that might be made.

And the Rocket Beast won't be more than a footnote. His body was already burnt black by the Mind Blown, and the Hyper Beam has only wrought further destruction. Every identifying feature is little more than char. His coat is little more than ash. His blonde hair is burnt to cinders. Even the mask covering his face has broken away, only to reveal more of the same. Char. Ash. Cinder. All the remains is a selection of loose Pokeballs, the last remnants of a man who is no more.

And then, a miracle happens...

Rabsca used Revival Blessing!

...You drag yourself up to your feet.

You take a deep, painful breath. It hurts. It hurts to breathe. It hurts to think. It hurts to exist. Your right arm is so damaged you can barely move it, and your left arm... Its not there anymore. It's gone. Forever.

Bloodshot eyes look towards illeana reyes. Envy bubbles up within you like a volcano. You can only think of one thing to say.

"IT SHOULD'VE BEEN ME."

And then, you stagger forward.

---

TL;DR - A phoenix dies and is reborn.
illeana reyes howard slayte PENELOPE LIVY [googlefont=Rubik Burned]