Tapu Lele did not register in her mind. Ameena did not register in her mind. Only when the scene changed, and the entire world shifted into a barren wasteland, did June finally snap out of the stupor. Even if the revelation still danced in her mind, it was no longer the dominant voice.

Instead, it was joined by one of confusion. Why was she dressed in this attire, vaguely pressed against her skin and unable to entirely block the crippling heat? Why did Howard bring them here? What was going on?

“... I…”

Can’t.

Not once had she ever calmed her mind fully. It was only with the crippling distractions presented in life, whether through music or the singing of thirteen Fletchlings, that let her pretend she shut her mind off. The only reprieve from herself. But here, there was nothing.

And thus, she thought. “W-was…”

Hidden love made even mere conversation dangerous. Deadly. It charged the very air, more than the heat ever could. More than she ever could. His one eye met two mismatched ones.

“W-where are we? Are we still in the dream?”

It had long since been a dream. Now, they stood in hell. A nightmare. “What happened here?”

---

howard slayte ameena abadi

The drone flopped over, and June flinched. Yet for better or worse, this one clung to life like a drowning man. It still shivered, and light still flashed behind its eyes. June couldn’t bring herself to finish the job. Instead, she set her own tools down and hauled the machine back upright.

“Whichever one wins your war, I suppose,” she said plainly. Not ‘their’ war, or ‘our’ war. It was not her fight. She wouldn’t let it be. That’s how she got roped up proper with terrorists, or down the barrel from people like freya morningstar or annalise henderson .

Annalise. Fuck. A sigh escaped her lips, “But you’re mistaken about one thing: people will attach to them regardless of their sentience. Much is as true with these fucks as is with the cars. How many people give their cars names, give ‘em pronouns? Hell, Roombas get treated better than people sometimes.”

For better or worse, of course. “Oh, and they aren’t. The cars thing. The hoops are there to make sure people aren’t selling you the most expensive coffin known to man. Which loops back to the physics thing.”

“Speaking of,” she kicked the arm of the one right next to her. Its arm cannon lit up, and the sound of some sort of machinery lit up. Yet no shot ever fired, and soon enough the life faded momentarily once more. “What’s the difference in specs, then? Do Kanto ones get suicide bombs inside them? Or Hoenn ones?”

It would be a terrible time to be proven right, surrounded by three hundred mines. Maybe she deserved it, though.

---

oscar clayton

Unfortunately for the chemist, June had been there one too many times to simply stand by and let this injustice occur any further. There’d been enough anger at those who passed herself over and didn’t glance twice. Passer byes unwilling to help out. Her fists clenched.

“Not happening,” she swiveled her head backwards, then back to the cop, “and wrong answer. But good to know you two know each other.”

What had she said back then? Corrupt cop husband? Sounded like this was one of the fellow pigs, and this was some sort of revenge scenario, or personal vendetta. Regardless of the circumstances, all it served to was make her hair bristle.

“I’m telling you right now, you do not want to fuck with me,” she whispered back darkly. “You do not scare me, and I’m not gonna let you pull whatever you want just cause of whatever she or her husband did.”

Out of line, but true nonetheless. “So either get some help down here, or get the fuck out of my sight.”

Then and only then did she turn her back to the bastard, and once more return to Absinthe. Consciously. “Keep pressure off, I can help you up. Give me your arm.”

---

Absinthe Blackwood

June had nothing to say against that. No clever rebuttal like last time, nor any emboldened words mired in emotion. Ultimately, Freya was dead right: Howard would try again, and again, and again. He was the puppet, and Rocket the strings. He would have to keep going until he collapsed or Rocket won. She saw that more and more these days, how many late nights were spent behind a desk.

How hollow his eye looked. The odor of tobacco that clung to his lips. Every bottle tossed into his trash can or scattered beneath his desk. The light that mirrored the sky as their rocky tomb was unearthed.

The–

The–

The… the…

Frustration built in her throat. Violet revved its engine further, a trail of smoke and electric flames left behind as she sped up. It felt wrong. The island was unforgotten in her memory. It was scarred there forever, a blemish upon what was once good. It’d be too easy to finish what Freya started. Grant him that one mercy. So he’d never have to hang in front of watery eyes.

But ____ called out to her. ____, so confusing and dangerous and enticing and intoxicating and sickeningly sweet and perfect and–

Whatever it was, Violet was eager to please. With their increased Agility, the Boundless raced up to and straight past Freya as little more than a Violet and yellow blur with a black mark upon its back. For the faintest of moments, June shared an invisible gaze with the councilwoman. One they had shared before.

She was grateful that the other woman could not see past the visor. It’d be one full of regrets, confusion, guilt, desperation, and–

____.

“so tell me, in your own words, what you want.” She’d once asked. June responded with the wrong answer. The safe one, that didn’t have any strings attached to it. Would Freya let her change it now, as the Boundless sought to go directly against her? Help an enemy of the state, a terrorist?

“I JUST DON’T WANNA LOSE ANYONE ELSE, COUNCIL WOMAN!”

“TELL ANNALISE I’M SORRYyyyyyyyyyyy...!”

Violet’s back wheel left the skull of the blazing fast Rayquaza– but it was much, much faster. A paradox with no answer.

Howard would feel his cold frame meet impossibly warm arms. “I got you!”

Don’t _____ me.

---

freya morningstar howard slayte

10 MP for post


Lots of yapping into an Agility into going faster than Rayquaza to catch and get Howard out of harms way (fuck the ice cube though idgaf about it)

June only saw the aftermath of whatever the fuck that was. A woman was sent reeling, her cane little more than a light catcher that followed its owner down. And none other than a pig was the one dishing out the blow. It was enough to get her to take an earphone out, which blared EDM as she stared in disgust.

She bit her lower lip and pressed her small package closer to her side. Her argument with annalise henderson rang clearly in her mind. Do something? Oh, she’d do something alright. Damn the package. They could get delivery free.

Without much more than murder on the mind, June spared a quick glance down both sides of the road before she darted across the grey pavement. Her other earphone followed, and she shoved them into her pocket before she rushed to–

Oh, fuck. Damn it. But… she wasn’t going to back down now, was she? Right after she’d rushed to Absinthe’s side.

“Hey yo, buddy, don’t think you killed her with that one, might need a curb stomp,” she spit out. “Cause that’s the saying, right? Abuse and kill?”

“Wait, no, it’s serve and protect,” she stood up once she realized that the girl was, in fact, not dying. Not that she’d know of, but it was out of her hands at that point either way. “My bad. Mixed you up with the terrorists.”

Maybe it was the avatarship, maybe it was the burning hatred of what she witnessed, maybe it was the second June she saw getting into a fist fight on the spot, or maybe it was the tenure at Rocket. Many different factors made her get into the face of the cop and almost shove a finger into his chest.

“Why don’t you call an ambulance, and I’ll consider pretending I didn’t just see you abusing a cripple. Unless she’s packing.”

“... You aren’t packing, right?” June turned to Absinthe with a genuine look of worry in her face. She wasn’t about to risk her own beating just for the girl to reveal several bombs in her jacket.

---

Absinthe Blackwood

This was going… horribly!

June never should’ve shown up. Intervened. Probably better to let the kids destroy the city and just play hero to the few that dared remain in this neck of the woods. Instead, it was her neck now on the line. Fighting both one of the better forces of the League and her own damn boss. Way to go. She’d be lucky to be fired.

But there were always worse things than death. Like the ire of Howard Slayte as the Rayquaza readied to slam forward. “Fuck fuck fuck–”

“Get down, Fox!” Violet revved higher, louder. As the organic wheel touched down on the deactivated ice golem, friction built up on the icy golem. How did heat do such a thing with something that couldn’t physically melt? She wasn’t the physicist– but she bet they’d be stumped too. But she couldn't give any attention to the iron soldier. A more important threat raced forward.

“You asked for it!”

Electricity was sparked, empowered by its earlier Charge. Wings unfurled, and Violet rushed forward at dizzying speeds. Just as Rayquaza tried to decimate Regice, Miraidon would threaten the sky god. It would not be beholden to such higher powers. One that had no scripture to define its very own existence.

A shot of lighting, an Electro Drift, aimed to pierce the skull of Rayquaza, but would result in the creature gaining a hold on its long, slender body regardless if the move struck. Then it’d race forward and upward towards where Freya rested—a trail of yellow left upon green scales.

“It’s done, Freya! They won’t make it to Oldale now,” she tried to scream towards the dragoness, as soon as she was in theoretical earshot. “Stop, before you destroy everything!”

---

freya morningstar howard slayte

Yaps a little, realizes the bad thing that's going to happen
Charge boosts Electro Drift, aims to intercept Rayquaza at worst and make it miss at best
Either way, gets on the Rayquaza and races to Freya


10 MP for Post
50 MP for Regrettable decision (attacking Freya)

Everyone else would’ve fallen a dozen different ways by now. The ice was too slick at times, and the angles were too steep. Things only grew harder when the titans, gods, powerful creatures, kept up their combat in earnest. Heat and flames danced in the air, alongside violent whimsical air and raw Dynergy.

Conditions not fit for normal humans– but yet again, since when had June been within that category? Let alone Howard and Freya. Neither of them could’ve pulled this stunt off. Paradoxes were required to, lest they fall to the standards of normal man.

None of this mattered to June, though. Her eyes bulged from her skull, and Violet only raced higher while her guts threatened to push past her esophagus. Finally, they reached the top, where machine and divinity battled.

There, lightning struck and someone screamed. “GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA–!”

Once a thread, june is able to emit a LARGE ELECTROMAGNETIC PULSE (EMP) that deactivates technology and saps the electricity from devices, while also disorienting people and Pokemon caught in its blast.

Both sides would find themselves removed from the technological world– that of the future. As Violet soon was dragged back down by gravity, June heaved. Arceus, that felt awful every time. Is this was the rest of them felt like? What misery.

But there was no time to lose. “Stand down, both of you!”

Who knew how the land faired when ice, storms, and intense heat threatened to engulf the forest? Perhaps that was the wrong question: did either of them care? Could they? While June considered the conundrum, the organic motorcycle revved its engines. It Charged up its potential, ready to ride at a moments notice.

“Won’t be anything left to fight over if you fuck it all up!” She screamed through the safety of a pitch-black motorcycle helmet. Freya wouldn’t know who she was. “Don’t make me do something you’ll regret!”

Howard, however, knew exactly who she was.

---

howard slayte freya morningstar



10 MP for Post

Looked like he did, so she didn’t. Arceus, what was this guy’s deal? The hint of an idea formed in the back of her mind, but she laughed it off the stage. He’d have to be insane to attempt to salvage anything in regard to that. Even if he played the part of a dumbass, they both knew he secretly wasn’t.

Just foolish and with insane tunnel vision.

“Can you please shut, the, fuck, UP about me,” June scoffed. It was becoming so frustrating that she couldn’t help but laugh. “Seriously, stop trying to protect me. It’s getting creepy.”

“It’s almost like you–”

“l̷̨͎̬̥̦͚̥̣̺̯̾͊õ̶͔̤͍̰̖̣̟̭̙͙̲̋̉̐͘v̶͙̰̗̥̯͆͑̄́͆͐͌͝͠ę̷̺̫̟͎̟̺͈̭̰̇̔̈́̉̆̂̊͜:“


“M…”

Time stopped. The dream replayed through brute force. Now that June had seen it, it was ingrained in her mind. And she couldn’t stop repeating it. Soon enough, the room filled with the declaration. The interest. The– the–

“W-what…?”

“Y-y-y-ou…”

There were no thoughts. There was no reaction. His vision had been overwritten by sheer will, and it wouldn’t stop. Is this how June operated on a daily basis? Reliving things on repeat until it drove her insane? This would drive anyone else mad. Maybe Howard was perfect for her then.

They both rested in the depravity of themselves. But June didn’t want more than one of herself. One was too many.

The mist started to fizzle.

“Loved you– Loved you–Loved you– Loved you–Loved you– Loved you–Loved you– Loved you–Loved you– Loved you–Loved you– Loved you–Loved you– Loved you–Loved you– Loved you–Loved you– Loved you–Loved you– Loved you–Loved you– Loved you–Loved you– Loved you–”

Systems overheated, and the room jumped a few degrees. Her mental state wouldn't last much longer.

---

howard slayte ameena abadi

Wordlessly, June hid the mud flat on her ass. Silently, she stared up at the ranger. For the last time, she unleashed the brunt of her own struggles onto June. How she’d been used, how she sucked it up, how much the people in her life really treated her.

Yet how she ignored it all anyway. Strength like that took either strongest or most broken spirits to muster.

And Annalise was not strong. She was just like June.

Weak. And when the weak fought, toiled, and died for everyone else, they’d be forgotten in the dust while the strong paraded atop their thrones of gold and ivory. If they were lucky, they might be allowed to bear the weight of their success atop their backs for even a modicum of safety.

But if they were also lucky, they’d survive and get revenge for the slights against them.

Once more, June rose. Painfully, slowly, full of tired bitterness, a broken heart that pulsed vividly, and a steadfast resolution in her mind. There are so many things she could say right now. A promise to do better, a vow to get revenge. Raw violence as well. Apologize prefusely and cling to the notion of companionship, broken and scattered as it was.

But she was not chosen by a paradoxical being for no reason. When the paths presented themselves, she would always make a new one without a second thought. Her tired, sorrowed, guilty eyes met Annalise's once more.

For the last time.

“Know this, Annalise Henderson,” her voice cracked in the terrible silence. The peace of the dead had long since been broken, and not even the vaguely curious remained to witness their feud. They’d all seeken refuge and vowed to come back at a later time. “This one, one thing. Forget what I just said. Forget everything else.”

“You were not a means to an end to me. Never were. You meant so, so much more than that.”

Once upon a time, the Boundless beat down her door, went into her room, released a flock of Fletchling, and proclaimed she couldn’t lose her a third time. All of that was still true. She didn’t know what to do now, as the ranger slipped from her grasp.

“But only doormats let people walk on them and suck it the fuck up. And they’ll keep doing it until you do something about it. And if that moment comes, and your back is to the wall, and you don't know who else to turn to?”

“Come find me. Until then…”

Her back turned. Down the graves, at the very end, was the start of a new row and a shovel. June slowly walked away. Annalise was right about one thing. But she didn’t have to be completely right about it.

“It’s a weapon, Annalise. I’ll make sure no one uses it for bad reasons.”

A few thousand graves were a statistic. A number for the newspapers and social media. A grave for… Marshall? The shovel sank into the cold, dry dirt.

A grave for one was a tragedy.

---

annalise henderson

“Of—”

June couldn’t get the violent affirmation past her lips before it got caught behind her teeth. Slowly, her mouth closed and doubt clouded her vision. The dream and its contents were momentarily forgotten. Would he?

Really? The apologies were tiring. Awful. She’d heard them plenty enough from the start. The first sin had been expressed as a mistake, an accident, a regret– the whole nine yards. Even if he’d done the unthinkable. Committed a crime worse than murder. Filled her heart with a fear that’d never be matched, not even by the–

“I… don’t know.”

If only there was a better way to describe the tumultuous emotions that warred inside her. How she had to suppress them for the sake of the dream.

“But it doesn’t make it right,” she finally spit out. Why did it always have to be so complicated? annalise henderson had at least kept things simple. Howard made everything sideways, intentional or otherwise. It’d be so much easier if he was just a permanent dick. Much easier to generalize and blame and try to forget.

But he was quite the colorful character. “The fact that you did it at all is pretty stupid. What, you wanted me to avoid Rocket or something? Little late and impossible for that to not happen.”

Ironically, her capture of Regieleki had made her live. And life underneath a fuck ton of debt wasn’t a life worth living. His failure to stop her had made her act as she now did. For better or worse.

But it was impossible to not blush and turn her head away as dream June admitted to the… problems. Annalise returned to her mind. She wasn’t that oblivious to her problems, was she? Like the ranger claimed? “Whatever, you already know my life enough. I don’t need to explain it again, do I? Will I be repeating what I just said before?”

---

howard slayte ameena abadi

Many questions raced through June’s head as gods and divine weaponry clashed. How did one change the currently mild temperature into an unbearably hot one? Why did Howard fight back still, and not run like the coward he was? How did neither of them see her streak of yellow cut through the forest?

Could she dodge a gigantic icy-foot that threatened to crush her to a pulp?

“VIOLLEEEEEEEE–”

An engine roared, and the world became more of a blur than it already was. Brown and green blobs rushed past her, and so too did the shadow. It collapsed upon the earth moments where they once rode. But there wasn’t any time to process her near death– nor did she want to.

There were far worse things than death. Like having to get off the fence she barely clung to. With another stomach-churning rev, Violet spun on one wheel and swerved. Seconds after they completed the U-turn, they raced straight back towards the Regice. “What’re you doooooooiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!!--”

The sky became the focus, and the ground disappeared beneath them. Only artificial cold held them steady. They were almost there. So long as they pushed past the cold that clashed with the heat, and anything else that came their way–

Her bones tingled. Oh no. Everything felt suddenly awful. Like she'd explode beneath the current. “No, no no no no–”

---

freya morningstar howard slayte



10 MP for post
Uhhhh idfk

Unfortunately for Aurelie, there were far worse things than death. Far, far worse. As she continued to dig the hole deeper, static electricity built up on her clothes. Towards the end of her long-winded rant, where she expressed deep remorse, her hairs stood up on end. June only looked more pissed upon the promise of something better.

She didn’t want better.

“Man, you really are that stupid,” June shoved the girl away. For her safety, if anything. She didn’t want to cover up why the girl would have the equivalent of a car battery through her system. Absinthe Blackwood was already on the back of her mind. “Did I not just say I’m broke as hell? Why the fuck else would I sell my soul to terrorists?”

“And I don’t want shocky knives or diamond knives, I want my box cutter back,” she said. If she lost it, then she was gonna be in for a world of pain. “So you better find it. Fast.”

“But at least you didn’t humor a million apologies like fucking Fox,” a sigh escaped her lips as she crossed her arms. “So… thanks. I guess.”

“It was my Dad’s.” Her head quickly swiveled away, and she suddenly found an invisible patch of grass interesting.

---

Aurelie Lefevre

10 MP for post
50 MP for antagonistic exchange of diologue

Far, far away, a helmeted June rode on the back of her beloved bird and yawned. She considered cracking her can of shitty aluminum coffee open, but decided against it. Better saved for a more useful time. That, and her stomach churned at the mere thought. Throwing up with cargo was the last thing she wanted.

Her thoughts were not of the dead, nor of the stakes present. Even with her numerous powerful Pokémon at her belt, she kept her head down and ignored the conflicts in the distance. Or not so distant. “Just get to the bunker, drop off the shit, and–”

The air grew cold. Too cold. Unnaturally cold. Not too many things could make that happen. By the time she looked up, it was almost too late. Her eyes widened, and she pulled on Matchsticks reigns.

“Dodge, dodge!” The bird relented, and they barely avoided the brunt of the icicles. Branches cracked, and trees groaned beneath the barrage. Higher they flew, until the green and bright blue were the size of her balled up fist. It gripped the leather tight while she whipped her head around.

“What the fuck are you doing, Howard…”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” June forced Matchstick down, back to the trees. A green serpent appeared from the clouds, and flames engulfed the icy golem. Things were bad. Really bad. Freya was there?

She couldn’t risk it. As soon as her feet hit the ground, her poke ball touched the ember feathers. “Sorry, girl.”

She disappeared in a haze of red. Then, another ball emerged from the same belt. It felt heavy in her hands, imagined responsibility. She could just run. It’d be easier. So much so. This wasn’t her fight. She was just a delivery girl. Her helmet hid her identity. No one would know.

But she would.

The ball clicked open, and out from it emerged a familiar purple-yellow living motorcycle. Violet raised an eyebrow as she mounted. “Go. Just… go. We’ll figure out what to do on the way.”

“Mirai!”

With a roar of a paradoxical engine, lighting streaks blazed through the forest. They raced fast and hard past the world around them. Howard, her boss. Freya, one of the few to try and help the people of Sootopolis. Her argument with annalise henderson sang its ugly song in her mind. Who demanded her respect more?

Which one would she have to help? Which would SHOULD she help?

---

howard slayte freya morningstar



10 MP for Post