“Not. Happening,” Grigori pushed through his teeth. Unfortunately, this response was visible from a mile away. Comically so. But Grigori wasn’t laughing, Zev wasn’t laughing, and the situation only served to get his arms to shake in place. The nerve of this man.

“I will not use J–her, as some tool. Not now. Not ever.”

After all he’s done to her? After all he’s put her through? The thought of it made his stomach churl. His mistake would not be compounded like this, built atop until it crushed her in every sense of the word. Or, even if he could not do such a simple thing as make things right, he sure as hell would keep them from getting worse.

Saviors didn’t ruin people's lives.

“And I assume that’s all you have regarding advice, Harcourt,” Grigori turned to glare at him from the side of one eye. “Unless you have some other ideas rattling around up there.”

---

Zev Harcourt

#1
1. Prefer pants myself, but otherwise have no strong opinion.

#2
2. When I made my first cake from scratch. It was not very good, but it was proof that I was changing from the person I was into someone I'd much rather be.

#3
This is question that man has grappled with since the ancient times. To have a shortform answer for the purposes of a survey would be to do the topic a great disgrace.

#4
Objectively, every Pokémon species has a place in the world. Even if we do not like them, they serve some purpose and are a great boon for our mutual relationship.

Personally, I despise Zoroark.

#5
I would bring… two new friends I’ve made, and a fire-starting kit. Fire is essential for ventures into the wild.

#6
My wallet, my phone. My Poke balls. Not much.

#7
Never had one.

#8
…To be remembered at all would be enough.

#9
Depends on the Pokémon, their personality, if they want a name, the quality of a name I can come up with. Regardless, there is no discernible theme for the names.

#10
…No.

#11
There are lots of beautiful colors, but if I must pick one... probably Red. For the color of Scizor.

#12
Haven’t seen any.

#13
Can’t listen to them at the moment. Sorry!

#14
Enough to make it to the sunrise. I hope.

SUGGESTION - Have you told your loved ones that you care about them recently? If not, why?

Grigori hated the abrupt landing as the next person on the ship, but considering how Howard threw his guts up, and then how Shred came over with some of his own vomit still present on his face, maybe he wasn’t reacting properly. Grumbles, groans, the whole nine-yards. Howard had befriended the bear though! That was a nice positive, a silver lining for whatever just occurred.

Very strange indeed. Whatever those aliens were, they were now stranded here. Unless they could use that weird distortion portal thing? Ugh. Even the thought of it made the back of his head flare up with stress pain. He rubbed his hair as Shred harassed Howard, despite the latter being thoroughly smothered underneath the bear. Very big bear.

“Accept the love, Mr. Howard. It’s a good thing!” He walked over to Shred and tried to pull him back a few steps. “And you, Mr. Shred, best not get too close. You still have some sick on your face. Don’t want to get it on that Pokémon.”

He could only think of the consequences of being on the bad side of that… Ursaluna? Likely due to the Blood Moon, but how did that alter its physical appearance so wildly? Painted in the red light, it just looked like a glowing bear. Much as Shred and Howard and everyone else glowed. Even himself.

“Hmm… Mr. Shred, I’m sure you'll find an opportunity to obtain a Pokémon just like this one,” he comforted the man. “You simply need to apply yourself. And find an Ursaring. Do you wish to go look for one together?”

Best deal with the consequences of their actions after a night’s rest and with more informed people. This wasn't a problem that would bury itself-- but yet again, when did they ever?

---

Tl;dr
 - Grigori is proud that he DOESN'T vomit somewhere!
 - Tells Howard to accept the love that will kill him and tells Shred he'll be able to find a bear like it, given that it's tied to the Blood Moon and nothing else
 - Surely their actions will have no long term reprocussions right? Copium

Rhetorical for one of them.

“‘Her Savior’? If I wanted to be her savior, I certainly wouldn’t be standing in front of you right now,” Grigori said. This must’ve been a joke or sarcasm; otherwise, Zev was in fact insane. It would explain his failure in the field. But perhaps the failure was a good thing– this could’ve been an extremely different conversation.

“But what do you suggest I do then?” Grigori asked. His voice diametrically opposed Zev’s. This man was heartless to a fault. Perhaps this was not a human he conversed with, but a machine. An extremely punchable one. He pivoted around, his back faced towards the man. If he stared any longer, he'd be tempted to test that theory out.

“You’ve read my file, you know I solve problems. How the fuck do you recommend I solve this one, Harcourt? Since apparently I’m not in the right headspace to do it myself,” he pressed on. If his superior did not want to answer anything about his own performance, then maybe he’d respond to queries regarding Grigori's. Arceus above, if this was still in the ‘world of delusion’...

Was it delusional to want to protect those you care about?

---

Zev Harcourt

“You didn’t answer my question,” Grigori said. Did he intentionally avoid it, or did Zev want to dive right into the heart of the issue? The one Grigori himself knew could not be solved with a livid confrontation

Rationality wrestled with the rage for dominance. For reasoning. What did he want from Zev? An apology that meant nothing? A heartfelt confession of his sins and some underlying issue he could relate to? Best to calm down, apologize for the harsh words, and hope to Arceus he didn’t think of this as more than a rash decision.

But those eyes… The grunt dug his fingertips into his palms until they ached. Oh, how he wanted to shove his thumbs into those sockets and grind them to a mush, so he never saw these pupils again. If Zev’s face did not express his true emotions, those empty eyes did the job perfectly. And that drove him up the wall.

Zev’s black hair gained a tint of crimson. “Her choice didn’t take into account you playing badass. And I don’t care if you don’t care. I care. And what I want from you is…”

One second. Two. Three. Fury gummed up the cogs within his brain. Zev sat there, waiting. Arceus, he probably thought Grigori the dumbest grunt alive. Bastard. If this was the last time he ever had to deal with the beast, all the better--

Crreeeaaaaak!

“...is that this situation doesn’t come up ever again. Don’t fuck with my friend ever again. Got it?”

---

Zev Harcourt

Grigori wasted no time. His vest was torn off his body. Stitches ripped off their seams, making the armholes into normal holes. Since it was now a glorified towel, he used the inside to try and mop up the red stains on his face. Blood went onto the vest, sure, but he could feel the residual warmth be shifted around rather than properly taken off. He shoved it under his seat, embarrassed for even trying.

Next, he took Shred’s jacket. This thing... wasn’t going to fit him at all, was it? He knew that they were different sizes, but this thing was about two sizes too small. It’d look silly even to try. Yet the prospect of jail was no joke, even if all three deserved to be there. So, he shoved one arm into the hole. Went in relatively fine, if a little tight. This gave him hope. The grunt twisted his arm in an uncomfortable way, and then slid the jacket on without any–

RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIP!

…Problems. “Sorry, Mr. Shred. I’m too big.”

No big deal. The officer wouldn’t see the back. Grigori squished himself into the small seat and managed to worm his way into the jacket entirely. His head hit the top of the car hard. Dull pain throbbed, and he craned his neck to a sixty-degree angle. Then his neck started to ache. “Mr. Howard, if we avoid detection, we’re going to have a long conversation about this.”

But they wouldn’t get caught. The key to acting calm was to be calm. It didn’t count against his promise to never tell a lie, because acting was merely pretending. It was his words he’d need to watch out for. “Do not let them ask me any questions, under any circumstances. Hear? Mr. Shred, give me some napkins, please.”

---

Shred howard slayte kyle lopez

One of them succeeded in their task. Druddigon’s Dragon Tail effectively knocked back the Urshifu. However, Grigori’s underhanded swing does not do much to dissuade this massive man. Even worse, he managed to get past him entirely.

“Oof,” he grunted as the man muscled right through. Oh no. He couldn’t even manage to stay upright, instead tumbling down to the ground. He kept a tight grip on the hammer, though. A necessary tool for the turbulent times.

Which, due to his fall, he managed to get a glimpse of. “What the hell is going on?!”

Tera crystals lit up the cavern with their illustrious glow. The massive ship came to life as a weird distortion dominated the cave. Chaos continued to do its thing all around him, not slowed in the slightest by the bear going over and murdering that one captive. The leader? Not anymore, as his corpse hit the ground missing its head. A good start. Not nearly enough as creatures from who knows where breached some defense above and behind them. Toxic sludge rained down by the barrel full.

This was a lost cause. They needed to get out of here, before those ‘reinforcements’ showed up. Many people, which included Shred , ran right towards the ship itself. Some seemed adamant on the distortion, as they instead held their ground within its awful, weird area. Maybe they planned to keep these forces in there and hope it goes away?

Unfortunately, it’s Howard that gets him to bolt upright. “Brick, use Outrage on anything that tries to oppose us! We’re getting on that ship!”

He’d lost track on what occurred with Howard and the stranger. What a terrible defender he was. If the man still attacked Howard, he’d try to fight him off again and drag him to the ship. If the chain had been broken, though, he’d still drag Howard to the ship. Either way, they were getting on that ship. Not much could withstand a hammer blow to the skull, afterall. “Hold on, Mr. Howard, we’re escaping this cavern together!”

---

Tl;dr
 - Rib Breaker failed. Fuck.
 - Grigori falls and truly takes in just how fucked the situation is
 - Regardless of whatever Kazimir does, Grigori will help/drag/pull/maneuver himself and Howard towards the ship (Choice 1) (I wanted choice 2 but can't justify it)
 - Druddigon will OBLITERATE anything in the way with OUTRAGE
BlkkAXg6

“Not. Relevant.” Grigori shot back. “But since you don’t recall, let me help you jog your memory.”

“Was it necessary to murder her fucking Manectric right in front of her?” His vision flashed red-hot. Dangerously so. Even the mere mention of it got his fists balled tighter and tighter, pressed against his body. Pressure bubbled, boiled, stirred underneath the surface, moments away from splashing out of the pot.

Grigori suddenly inhaled sharply, and he closed his eyes. After a few moments, he let the air escape out in a steady stream. Breathe in, breathe out. Do not assault a man of his position. This one was at that meeting in the cave. Too important to act irrationally with.

“Look,” he finally spoke after several deep breaths, “All you need to know about this girl is that she was only there on the island to make extra money. She doesn’t give two shits for the League. She functioned as a glorified delivery girl. And you go and not only pull a stunt like that, but you didn't even get the parcel she had."

Grigori reopened his eyes and stared down at Zev with an intense glare. "So why even attack her in the first place?"

---

Zev Harcourt

Ah, that was an older one! That’s why it eluded Grigori’s grasp: he hadn’t heard it in who knows how long. Perhaps too long. Hmm. Just how old was he again? Arceus, this really wasn’t the time nor place to have a midlife crisis, was it? Not in front of this Steven, who looked to be… half his age? At best?

Thank goodness he changed the subject. “Guard duty. Mr. Steven. Doesn’t make too much sense, given context. Yet the chance of there being a spy aboard is never zero. Best to play it safe, especially given these dangerous times.”

It felt like there had been a great number of defections in recent times, yet also a great amount of replacements as well. From those of the younger generation especially. howard slayte came to mind immediately. Perhaps Team Rocket had a few recruiters stationed outside each university for this exact reasoning.

“And you’ve already said your purpose for being here. But I’m curious as to your purpose for being here, if that makes sense,” Grigori placed his plastic cup on a nearby desk, thick with condensation. “I’ve seen many a younger person here recently. Feels like half of them are here to pay off their student loans.”

---

Steven Campbell

“Where’s Zev Harcourt?”

“Grigori, hey, what’s up? How’s–”

“Where. Is. Zev. Harcourt?”

“Woah there, calm down! Man, you're grip is super strong– GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! OW OW OW, LET GO!”

“Answer my question.”

“Ah, fuck, uh– training! He’s there, in the fucking-GAAAAA–in the fucking excersize facility, or something! Fuck, Arceus above, what the fuck are you on?!”

“...Apologies,” Grigori lets the man go, pats him on the shoulder, and briskly disengages. “I have important business.”

june sleigh ’s description was as flighty and unhelpful as a Quagsire, but the bar for success sat between six to twelve feet below the earth. After all, how many others are disguised in heavy combat gear? Specialized in single-target attacks? Killed things with crystals that could be conjured from the body? Hell, he’d seen the man do it on their mission together. The grunt always thought him brutally effective, if cold.

Grigori’s heart beat in rhythm with his furious stomps into the submarine floor. Red painted the walls, the plants, the doors to the training facility. He could not attack Zev; that would result in his death. He pushed down the intrusive thoughts and tried to think up anything else. Like what the hell he was going to tell Zev.

One part of him tempted ‘how do you sleep at night?’, but that got tossed into the mental trash can immediately. Probably in this room, whatever it was. He didn't bother to check the name, mind too honed in on his task. When was the last time he acted this reckless and pissed off? At least a few years. Wild how things changed, yet managed to remain the same. 

Finally, the man was in view. Grigori closed the distance fast, a thunderbolt straight for the beast. “Harcourt. I’ve been looking for you. We need to talk. Now.”

He did not wait for a proper response. His blood boiled, but he kept his hands shoved into the crevice between his arm and body. “How was your time on that island? Do anything important? Perhaps assault a delivery girl trying to make ends meet?”

---

Zev Harcourt

Ah, so this is what this whole thing was about? Jesabel did not like the prospect of a bath and ran off into the wild. Typical Skitty behavior. They were notorious for their self-bathing habits and always caused mischief to avoid it. Even if said mischief made the necessity of the action more and more justifiable. A run into the woods? It’d be lucky to only need a bath.

“That’s good, then,” Grigori said. Good thing his Castform, now dubbed ‘Castie’, had some sense in its mind. Last thing they needed was two pokemon to look for instead of one. Not that it’d be hard– the Castform loved to make its little blips and chimes. Maybe he should call it Windchime, if Castie didn’t stick…

The Castform did its cry at the affirmation of its good behavior. Why it was so happy that a slight breeze picked up! And then another little gust. Did the forecast call for all these sudden gusts? And why were they picking up in strength?

By the time Grigori noticed the breeze that now whipped through the blades of grass and thick foliage, it was too late. “Wait, Castform, don’t–”

Its happiness reached a peak alongside the sudden winds. With too much to contain in its localized area, a massive Hurricane whipped outward and forward. Leaves were plucked from their homes, branches scattered in every direction possible. A trail of barren dirt followed the solidified wind while it whimpered and died off far in the distance.

“Miss Eleanor, are you alright?!” Grigori rushed over to the girl. He scanned the destruction left in the Castform’s wake: awful. Terrifying. They needed to work on that still. “I am so terribly sorry for that. Castie gets… terribly happy, sometimes. And it’s tied to the weather, so…”

But perhaps all was not lost. One particular thick bush, stripped naked of its thick green leaves, now had a splash of pink within its brown branches. Castform, oblivious to the wreckage it just caused, quickly flew over to the pink blob. It called out to the other two, motioning to the likely target of their search.

---

eleanor blair teska

While Shred slept like a child, Grigori lived like a panic-riddled war veteran. His hands grip the steering wheel like he hung off a cliff. The vehicle swerved inside and outside the lines. Pulled along like a kid with a wooden Rapidash rather than the man behind the wheel. Check the mirrors, check the sides, look front, look behind, check the mirrors–

They drove at a solid fourty miles per hour. The speed limit listed fifty-five. He clung to the right lane for dear life, desperate to avoid the other drivers and Pokémon riders who also took the road. Many of them flipped him off, and a few yelled at him through the thick windows between them.

But only now did one of them honk violently. A surprise in all honesty. It had taken this long to have someone honk at him? The horn blared bloody murder as the driver furiously merged into the other lane and passed them.

“Shred, SHRED,” Grigori yelled as he furiously glanced at every single point of interest with intense urgency. “Where the hell is the exit?! I don’t know where to get off!”

Unfortunately, this is where the Copperajah in the room makes itself present: Kingambit shouts at the top of its lungs. Its forehead blade wiggles back and forth, which jutted oddly between Shred and Grigori. Pumpkin sat in the very back seat, having the time of its life. It never got to ride in a car before! Oh how it moved! How the masses gave them attention! Pure bliss.

It also covered most of the back window, making it near impossible to determine what the hell was behind them at any time.

---

Shred