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He'd had it. He'd absolutely had it. Stabbings, false leads, dead ends, and a number of other personal frustrations had left Rhys with two options. The first had been to hurl himself from the highest point on Mt. Pyre he could find and let someone else deal with his problems. The second had been to force a bit of tranquility on himself.
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He dug his spoon into the bowl of frozen yogurt, coming back up with a bite covered in tiny chocolate chips and crumbles of sweet graham crust. He'd found a bench in the Safari Zone and was currently eating his favorite treat, peering at his propped-up tablet, and keeping his Nidoking from devastating the surrounding vegetation more than completely necessary.
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"This document says to bring springy mushroom cakes when hunting dragon-types. Do you suppose those are for the dragon or for the trainer? Er, tamer?" he inquired idly, going for another bite of frozen yogurt and glancing to Gaius with a raised eyebrow. The Nidoking regarded him blankly, offering a confused grunt.
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Rhys shrugged, going back to his tablet. "Mystery for the ages, I suppose."

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Lighthouse radio?
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Rhys thought about looking around. He thought about cracking the closet door open, or perhaps actually looking under the bed to see if he was being recorded. This had to be a prank show. He swore he could feel his eye twitch as he stared the other man down levelly. "I know I did not get dragged out to Dewford to perform some light breaking and entering and watch porn on some other guy's computer because you got a hunch that the scariest guy we both know in Rocket was sighted over lighthouse radio."
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He stood out of the chair abruptly, stalking out of the room and not even turning back when the furniture finally gave in and tipped over with a plastic clatter. This set off a fresh round of shrill barking from the kitchen, and Rhys flipped the little dog off through three walls as he stomped to the open window.
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"I'll get back on my own," he snarled, clambering through the window with a lack of grace that didn't do much to support his irritation. "You've got my info, though, so by all means feel free to let me know how your next hunches go. I hear magic eight balls and fortune cookies are good, but that might be a level too complex for you."
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He began descending the fire escape, heedless of the crack of thunder and the sudden downpour of rain that accompanied it. He'd look for Zev himself. A cafe in Kalos would probably be closer to the mark than this podunk apartment.

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"Yeah, your mother said hi," Rhys grunted irritably as he pressed past Klaus into the bedroom. The desk in question wasn't a complicated affair, four wire legs and an armless chair that looked like it had seen more stable days.
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He settled into the chair which creaked concerningly but, after a panic-inducing instant, retained its structural integrity. Thumbing at the power button on the tower, he waited for the PC to boot up, turning his head to glance at Klaus. "Maybe he booked a trip. Hell, maybe he's on a mission, that's over our heads anyway."
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The screen lit up, and Rhys was immediately assaulted by the wallpaper: a too-zoomed image of the man pictured in the living room - clothed, this time - and the elderly Snubbull from the kitchen pressed up to his face, cheek-to-cheek. The man wore a blinding grin, and the dog simply looked unimpressed, tongue stuck out from his scowling face in protest.
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"Was he supposed to kidnap this guy, you think?" Rhys opened the browser and went right to the history, scrolling through it and squinting.
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"MewTube, MewTube - is this a fucking baking video? - an article about the SS Tidal getting stranded, looks like an order for...protein powder?" Rhys scoffed. "This isn't gonna get us anywhere."
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He thumped the mouse against the desk in frustration and must have clicked something, for the next video to fill the screen was clearly personal in nature, featuring a slim, slight, dark-haired man in what Rhys could only charitably call 'salacious positioning'. Rhys's eyebrows flew up to his hairline as he let out a low whistle. "Impressive," he commented, watching for a few seconds before he tapped at the keyboard to close the window entirely.
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He couldn't withhold a snicker, shooting a wry look over his shoulder at the other man. "Hey, if we don't find Zev here, at least you're apparently this guy's type. Might help you not be such a fucking asshole." Click, click, and he was into the file system, but virtually nothing was stored on the local machine.
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Rhys let out a frustrated sigh, spinning around in the chair and crossing his arms. "This is a dead end. What intel did you get on Zev being here anyway?"

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Back in the darkened living room once more, Rhys reflected on the current circumstances of his conversation with Klaus. Here he was in a random apartment in the middle of nowhere during the dead of night, hissing questions around a corner at a man he'd never met before because some old-man-dog was barking his head off at him the minute he appeared.
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But why wasn't he barking at Klaus?
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Any further questions were halted as the man in question entered the living room proper, and Rhys could only raise an eyebrow as Klaus hands him a handful of smooth, polished black stones. He stared at them, glimmering flatly in the palm of his hand, before glancing back up, deadpan.
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"What are you saying, he's one of those new age weirdos? Like you carry the right rocks and you never get sick again, that bullshit?"
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Scoffing, he tossed the stones back at Klaus and ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. "What was he doing here, anyway? I don't even know what I'm looking for."
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He turned his flashlight back down the hallway, slowly making his way in that direction. "I saw a computer in the bedroom, I think. Maybe we can check the history to see what's going on."

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Rhys flinched, nearly dropping the light as the window, divested of its locking power, flew up suddenly. Smothering a curse, he looked around, but at this time of night no neighbors appeared to have been alerted by their extracurricular activities. He wouldn't have thought at all to look for Zev in a place like this, but the man was a Rocket Beast along with Arceus knew what else, and Rhys surmised that the motives of such creatures were beyond the ken of peons like him.
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He followed Klaus into the apartment carefully, casting the flashlight around from side to side and illuminating a cozy living area, a handful of photographs, and the biggest couch he'd ever seen. He froze at the sound of barking, and nodded as Klaus went to deal with that, then blinked in confusion, mouthing in an echo of his next order: Check the bedroom?
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Shaking his head, he headed down the short hallway in the opposite direction, pulling open the first door he came across to reveal a small bathroom. Huh. If this were Zev's place, he would have expected some kind of miniature torture chamber instead of the haphazardly welcoming decor that dotted the space - motifs of waves, a few photos of pokemon, but no blood or Gengar.
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He continued to the next door - jackpot. No Zev in the bed - thankfully - but no owner, either. The huge, cushy duvet was wadded into a tight ball, as though the last time someone exited the bed they hadn't bothered to make it, but he wasn't forensic enough to figure out how long it had been. There were a few - what did they call those? - free weights set on a low rack in the corner of the room, a small television up on the wall, but otherwise the space was relatively bare.
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Heading back toward the source of the barking, Rhys wondered whether Klaus had had any better luck. As his flashlight ghosted over the photos in the living room, he paused, leaning in and squinting at a photo of an absolutely jacked shirtless guy with a broad smile and a messy head of dark hair.
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He was more and more baffled by what purpose Zev would have in a place like this, but...damn.
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Poking his head into the kitchen, he found Klaus and an elderly Snubbull. The canine whipped his head around to gaze piercingly at Rhys, then offered a series of shrill barks that had Rhys backpedaling into the living room once more, heart pounding. "What did you find?" he hissed. "I got nothing, you sure he's here?"

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Rhys's breath came heavy, his lungs burning. He wasn't out of shape, but he was certainly in no state to meet the sprints that this place seemed to constantly require in any kind of graceful fashion. His quiet chuckle came out wheezing and rueful. "Heh," he grunted, glancing over to Yumi with a wry smirk, "Usually it's me asking that. No, I'm fine, just out of breath."
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He turned his attention to the illusory wall Everard had conjured, and held his breath entirely when he saw a shambling figure lumber into sight. The zombie stopped, inhaling a low, rasping breath, and canted its head to one side as though surveying the results of its search. At length, it lurched into motion once more, past the disguised entryway and further along the main alley.
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Rhys released the breath he'd been holding, coming slowly, carefully, quietly to his feet, and beckoned both Yumi and Everard further down their offshoot. "We keep back here. Everard, you make sure we're not visible from the street at any point." He reached a hand out to help Yumi up, jerking his head toward the maze of corridors ahead of them.
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"This is bound to kick out somewhere near one of those wormholes, we just have to stay quiet and keep low. We'll get out of here, not a scratch, I promise you." For as dry and cynical as the man could so often sound, this was as close to kind as he'd managed in recent months. He hoped it would do.

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Rhys cursed under his breath as their escape was thwarted by a wall of metal sheeting. The Milotic's attack was effective - he could hear the plates groaning - but not enough to clear the way.
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He cast Yumi a stern look as she called his name frantically, murmuring, "Stay calm. I got someone out of here once, I can do it again, but only if you stay calm." He glanced to Jude as the Toxtricity jogged up to the barricade, then his eyes went wide as the reptilian pokemon began to strum his chest.
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"Cover your ears!" He yelped, slamming his hands over his own and ducking away from the Toxtricity. Moments later, a BOOMBURST ripped through the alleyway, visible ripples in the air caused by soundwaves that blew the barricade to shreds, hanging crazily from their anchor points at either wall. Rhys felt his teeth rattle in his jaw as the attack rebounded and surged down the way they'd come, sending the shambling ebon shapes toppling backward over each other amid discordant groans.
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Tugging at Yumi, he moved to dash through the space revealed by the destruction of the barricade, recalling Jude with his free hand and rummaging in his satchel for another pokeball. Casting his gaze around frantically, he caught sight of a small opening, another offshoot between two low-slung buildings.
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He quickly peered into the darkness, and - satisfied that there appeared to be no flesh-eating monsters this far in - slid into the small aisle, calling out his Hisuian Zoroark and biting out, "Cover us!"
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The air shimmered at the entrance to their small offshoot, and abruptly the faint outline of a continuous wall appeared over the opening - from the outside, it would appear that there was no egress whatsoever.
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He leaned against the wall and slid down, panting. "Shit, okay. Catch your breath, we just need to find the way out," he whispered.

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Rhys wasn't having the best week.
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He'd botched the delivery of pokemon for Naomi Sato's research projects, had been interrogated within an inch of his life regarding his relationship with the operative responsible for the bomb, as this was now his third run-in with the man for only a seemingly coincidental reason, and on top of it his side still ached, the wound bandaged and packed where tavish rose's combat knife had slid in like butter. He'd been disallowed healing, and it didn't take much overthinking to presume that it was punishment for losing the shipment.
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He couldn't call Zev Harcourt a friendly or sympathetic face, but he felt he could at least go to the man who seemed interested in his progress and usefulness within the organization. Rhys was good at a lot of things, but his repeated encounters with Tavish constantly reminded him that he had virtually no skill when it came to combat.
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Now, he wanted to know how to kill a man.
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Zev was nowhere to be found, though, which wasn't always unusual. Finding so many dead ends, though, was beginning to wear on Rhys. Then, suddenly, this guy came up and said that he did in fact have a bead on the Beast, and Rhys was mildly surprised to discover that it was in Dewford, of all places.
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"What's Zev doing in a fucking backwater like this?" Rhys scowled, though he adjusted the flashlight to shine on the seam between window and wall. Definitely not what he saw himself doing in the middle of the night, but he supposed Rocket meant new and exciting experiences every day.

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The venom with which Rhys regarded Tavish was a sight no less startling than if the man had grown fangs and bared them in a guttural snarl. His attack hit its mark, but thanks to the other's Farfetch'd, neither opponent was harmed by it. No matter, he'd have to try again, that's all.
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Dimly, somewhere in the higher-functioning segment of his mind that currently occupied the background, he registered that he ought to continue fleeing, because he was in no shape to survive another physical confrontation with this man, and it had already come close enough the one time he'd been subjected to it.
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The voice of reason was overriden by the red he now saw, however. He was furious - not at the loss of his only means of transportation, or at the deaths of Whatshisface and Unibrow, and not even, really, at the disruption of yet another one of his precious few field missions. No, he was pissed off simply because he could not catch a break, not even once.
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All it took was one bad day too many, apparently.
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Before he could spit a rejoinder that would likely have been less witty and more graphically explicit than his usual linguistic choices, the opposing Farfetch'd launched himself at his Alakazam, barreling leek-first into the Psychic-type and sending him spinning back through the air to land on the ground in a dirt-furrowing impact.
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"Perry!" he snapped. "Get off your back and KILL that DAMN BIRD!" Rhys snarled. The Alakazam, battered from the attack, hovered back into the air, regaining some of his lost composure, and unleashed further PSYCHIC waves that rippled through the air, erratic and indiscriminate in their path.
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The damage to the local ecology was undeniable, but the attack so inconsistent that the smaller bird would be able to navigate it laughably. Clearly, the mental state of the Alakazam's trainer was not doing it any favors.

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Rhys jerked at Yumi's shriek, and what should have been another methodical curl of metal from the blackened corpse turns into a grotesque squeal as the scalpel swung inexpertly over the body. "Would you hush?" Rhys hissed irritably, carefully sealing the samples and stuffing them into his satchel with a growl.
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"Yeah, and they suck," he affirmed, "And I still have no idea what happened here. Zombies was one thing, but people turning into metal sculptures? How is that even related?" He stood, throwing his hands up in exasperation with the laws of this place. "You can't have two surreal mysteries happening at once, that doesn't even make sense in books!"
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His tirade was cut short as something stirred in the alleyway, and he froze. A humanoid shape shuffled from the deepest shadows, and he reacted instinctively, ordering Jude forward with a gesture. He wasn't about to be caught on the back foot in this forsaken city again.
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The Toxtricity jogged forward, an OVERDRIVE rippling through the air as waves of electricity coursed toward the shape. It ducked the attack crazily, in a contortion few humans could have pulled off, and then its...head detached. The spherical orb launched skyward, bursting in a beautiful display of colorful fireworks.
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Gaping, Rhys tore his attention from the fireworks back to their originator, only to find that another head was inflating itself in the space above its shoulders. Prancing about, the colorful thing - was it even a pokemon? - twirled past Jude as though the lizardlike pokemon didn't even exist, and launched its head again, preceding another pop of fireworks.
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"Shit," Rhys cursed, ordering Jude to deliver a POISON JAB that the Blacephalon evaded as easily as the first attack, countering with another firework overhead. "Get it," he pled toward Yumi, "It's gonna-"
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But his warning came too late, as more shapes began to shuffle out of the nooks and crannies at the edge of the ruins, blackened and deformed Megalopolans that lurched toward Rhys, Yumi, and their pokemon with mindless singularity. Spotting these new arrivals, the Blacephalon offered a wordless, cheery wave to the nearest before bounding off on one foot, a final fireworks display its parting gift.
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Rhys whirled, taking Yumi's hand and pulling her toward a crumbling section of street that seemed the only passage not currently hosting a hostile threat. "Go, go, go, go," he chanted, the air behind them thrumming with another Overdrive as Jude attempted to cover their escape, to what sounded like no avail whatsoever.

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