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well, isn't that just fucking great. miyako's blind date is some pretentious, tattooed asshole in a suit with a goddamn rattata on his shoulder and houndoom for a guard dog. she takes a swig of her bourbon and grimaces. straight bourbon says she's trying to forget this ever happened and just wants to go home.[break][break]

the worst part? he's hot.[break][break]

miyako contemplates leaving the bar, taking her dignity with her, when the asshole in question sits right the fuck down next to her. she's so shocked and simultaneously horrified, she laughs. "haha. fuck," she remarks, slinking lower into her seat, "you're a piece of work."[break][break]

this close, the guy smells like fucking fire and wealth, something miyako could never afford. her stomach flops, and the bourbon is starting to blur her vision. she hates this. she hates him. why did emiko set her up with an asshole?![break][break]

she addresses him anyway, with the usual snarl and glare she gives everyone: "what the hell kind of entrance is that? oh, i know what it says about me: i'm a fucking masochist, clearly. what's that fruity thing say about you, prince charming?" she scoffs, rolling her eyes and signaling to the bartender for another round. maybe this date will be more tolerable if she's absolutely shitfaced. God knows she'll need to be to even entertain whatever shit this guy will inevitably spout next.[break][break]

although...[break][break]

miyako leans in closer, eyes narrowing as she studies his face.[break][break]

"do i know you from somewhere?"

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miyako's heart races at the thought of riding a zeraora, her mind already envisioning the adrenaline rush that would come with it. she nods eagerly, barely able to contain her excitement. "yeah, i'd love to give it a shot," she grins, rubbing her hands together in anticipation. "i mean, if it's anything like riding jiwari, it's gotta be a once-in-a-lifetime experience, right?"[break][break]

she hesitates for a moment, considering shalin's warning about savanna's speed. miyako knows she's no stranger to high-speed thrills, but riding a pokemon that's essentially a living bolt of lightning? that's a whole other level.[break][break]

"okay, i'll be careful," she promises, holding up her hands in a placating gesture. "i'll take it easy... maybe."[break][break]

grinning mischievously, miyako swings her leg over savanna's back, settling into the saddle with a determined nod. "alright, girl," she murmurs, patting the zeraora's side. "let's see what you've got."[break][break]

she takes a deep breath, steeling herself for the rush of speed that's about to come.

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rogue. definitely rogue. miyako is all about the sneaky shit, baby.[break][break]

please let there be plenty of sneaky shit!!!

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miyako's eyes widen at the prospect of sitting between a celebi's wings, her imagination running wild with the possibilities. "holy shit, can you even imagine?" she breathes, shaking her head in disbelief. "that would be... that would be something else." she nods eagerly at the idea of going to joyland in the spring, already looking forward to the trip.[break][break]

"count me in," she grins. "maybe we can make a whole day of it or something."[break][break]

she listens intently as shalin explains about savanna, her brow furrowing in concentration. "wait, you mean there's more of them like that?" she asks, blinking in surprise. "i always thought zeraora were upright walkers. i've never even heard of a four-legged one before."[break][break]

she watches as the zeraora approaches them, its powerful roars filling the air and drawing the attention of the other pokemon nearby. miyako can't help but be impressed by the creature's speed and agility, and she finds herself wondering what it would be like to ride such an incredible pokemon.[break][break]

"damn, she's fast," she murmurs appreciatively, eyes tracking savanna as she moves. "i bet she could give Josh Devlin a run for his money."[break][break]

she chuckles softly at the mention of devlin saying two zeraora are enough for his gym, shaking her head as she imagines the chaos of having two of those thundercats under one roof. "yeah, i can't say i blame him there," she smirks. "two is already pushing it. three might be overkill."

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fuck it, she thinks to herself as she stomps toward the bar, located, ironically, right next to a liquor store. her cousin's words, spoken with such forced nonchalance, echo again through miyako's brain, irritating like a pesky fly that will not go away. 'why don't you ever give anyone a chance?' emiko had pressed, her voice lilting artificially high. 'i mean, you don't even try to go on dates!'[break][break]

fine. fine! miyako would go on a goddamn date. blind, deaf, whatever it took to get emiko's chirpy voice away from her ears. and so, under the full weight of a desperate and petty desire to shut her cousin up, there she was. waiting. smoking a cigarette. at a bar. for a date.[break][break]

a blind one. so, blind date, ha! funny, right? oh, miyako, what a fucking riot.[break][break]

anyway, hopefully they won't be a total dork. hopefully they like dogs. miyako doesn't ask for much, see, just someone to not make her want to scoop her own brains out and toss them on the ground in despair. hopefully they're a little weird, too, a little fun - maybe even kind of, uh, like her? a person to just, like... get her? god, she is tired of explaining herself. to anyone.[break][break]

of course they'll be late, she concludes, and then flags down the bartender for another bourbon. just as she gets her refilled glass, though, there is the sound of the door chime, and miyako tenses, immediately regretting literally everything.

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as gravity works overtime, miyako's entire body screams in protest. the adrenaline keeps her going, but the strain is undeniable—both to her muscles and her mind. she grits her teeth, pushing herself to keep up with fancy-pants as they power through the spiral, unwavering in their determination to come out on top.[break][break]

and then, suddenly, they're out of the spiral and into the open air again, miyako's heart racing as they fly through the long straightaway that stretches out in front of them. she takes a moment to catch her breath, even as her eyes flick to the flags that mark the borders of the course. red on the outside, green on the inside—got it.[break][break]

fancy-pants, ever-attuned to miyako's commands, speeds up beneath her, the wind whipping past them at a fierce clip. ahead, miyako can see another loop looming—this one twisted, the flags signaling the change with their reversed colors.[break][break]

she knows what's coming.[break][break]

leaning into the turn, miyako prepares to fly inverted once again, trusting in her skills and fancy-pants' instincts to carry them through unscathed. half-remembered physics lessons from school flash through her mind, offering a brief moment of comfort before the world turns over once again.[break][break]

her stomach lurches as gravity does its best to pull her from fancy-pants' back, but miyako clings on, knuckles white on the reins. everything feels wrong and inside out, but she forces herself to focus on the task at hand—flying, staying alive, and winning this fucking race.[break][break]

there's another turn, this one a right-angle despite what the map might say. miyako narrows her eyes, pushing herself to flip the mental image of the course in her head even as they fly inverted, trusting her instincts to carry her through the sharp change in direction.[break][break]

fuck. how many more loops and turns can there possibly be?[break][break]

N|BgaVqp

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she doesn't need to be told twice. with a nod, miyako turns on her heel and takes off, her heart pounding in her chest as she runs as fast as her legs can carry her. she knows it's not a smart idea to run with broken ribs, but what other choice does she have?[break][break]

she can hear the sound of dorian's laughter fading behind her, and it makes her skin crawl. she hates him. she hates him so much. but she also knows that she's lucky to be alive. if it hadn't been for his "generosity," she would probably be dead right now.[break][break]

as she runs, miyako tries to focus on her breathing, tried to keep it slow and steady even as her lungs burn with the effort. she focuses on the feel of the wind against her skin, the pounding of her feet against the ground. anything to keep her mind off the pain in her side.[break][break]

after what feels like an eternity, miyako finally collapses in a clearing, her chest heaving with exertion. she curls into a ball, her arms wrapped around her waist as she tries to catch her breath. it's only then that she realizes she's crying, big, ugly tears that streak down her face and make her nose run.[break][break]

she cries for her pokemon, for herself, for the futility of it all. she cries because she's exhausted, and in pain, and completely and utterly defeated.[break][break]

it's not fair. none of this is fair. but what is she going to do about it? she's just one person, one messed up cop with more issues than pokemon.
slowly, miyako pushes herself up into a sitting position, wincing as the movement sends fresh waves of pain through her side. she reaches into her pocket and pulls out a cigarette, lighting it with shaking hands. she takes a long drag, savoring the taste of the smoke as it fills her lungs.[break][break]

and then, she starts to laugh. it's a high-pitched, slightly hysterical sound, but it's also full of genuine amusement. because when you think about it, the whole situation is just ridiculous. here she is, a cop, running from a battle with team rocket like a criminal on the streets she knows so well. and all because of some stupid rivalry she got caught up in.[break][break]

this whole region is such a fucking joke.[break][break]

miyako stands up, wincing, and begins the long trek home.

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it's like everything is happening in slow motion. miyako hears herself scream, hears whiskey's whine of pain, and then there's silence.[break][break]

for a moment, there's nothing but the pounding of her heart in her ears, the ache in her ribs, the sting of sweat in her eyes. and then, slowly, she becomes aware of other things. the heat of the sun on her skin, the scent of smoke and blood in the air, the feel of whiskey's fur beneath her fingers.[break][break]

why the hell hadn't she just ran? what the hell is wrong with her? how desperate is she to prove herself that she would send her closest companion into an unwinnable fight?

and the weight of the gouging fire's gaze on her, heavy and expecting.[break][break]

with shaking hands, miyako reaches for whiskey's pokeball, recalling him with a soft click. she feels so empty, so completely and utterly defeated.[break][break]

she's felt like this before. she feels it often, actually. every day. her life is a big carousel ride of failure. around and around she goes, wondering when she can finally get off this wild damn ride. and she never does. the man's just too strong for her. a capable fighter, the kind miyako always kind-of wanted to be, but would have never admitted to.[break][break]

she could cry. she could scream and yell and run and hide. but she won't. that's the kind of vulnerability she would only show in the throes of death, or while under the influence of an entire bottle of bourbon.[break][break]

instead of all of that, the woman instead stands up, dusts herself off, and raises the only hand that is not cradling her broken rib. "alright, alright," she manages, though her voice sounds almost as if she's choking. "i get it. you have the bigger dick between us. you win."[break][break]

miyako briefly glances over her shoulder, then looks back to the rocket.[break][break]

"can you just... let me go? and forget i was here? bro to bro?"

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well. shit.[break][break]

miyako's heart pounds in her chest as she watches the charizard and his trainer struggle to maintain their balance, knowing that this could be her only chance. and so, even though she's terrified, even though every instinct in her body is screaming at her to turn back, to run away, to give up, she urges fancy-pants forward, faster and faster until they're a blur.[break][break]

when they collide, the impact is like a punch to the gut, knocking the wind out of her and making her vision go black around the edges. but she grits her teeth and holds on, her fingers tangled in fancy-pants' feathers as the togekiss bucks and thrashes beneath her, trying to throw off the charizard's grip.[break][break]

but it's no use. with a final, brutal slam, fancy-pants hits the ground hard, and miyako feels something in her side crack with the impact. she cries out in pain, reaching for her broken ribs with one hand even as the other scrabbles for fancy-pants' pokeball. "ow, ow, ow..." why does she always break her ribs again right after they heal? "i'll have you know that i'm both brave and stupid. fuck, ow!"[break][break]

togekiss is recalled in a burst of light.[break][break]

and then there's nothing between miyako and the mega charizard but a few feet of empty space. she's beaten. she knows it, and from the triumphant look in the charizard's eyes, so do they.[break][break]

with a shaking hand, miyako reaches into her pocket and pulls out the last pokeball she has. she looks at it for a long moment, her vision blurring with tears of pain and defeat. and then, with a flick of her wrist, she sends out her favorite—the dog she raised from a damn puppy, her always loyal stoutland.[break][break]

for a moment, miyako buries her hands into the mutt's fur, breathing deep a nostalgic smell, before using the canine as leverage to rise back to her feet. she meets whiskey's eyes for a moment and frowns. he's worried about her. he always is. but miyako never knows when to quit.[break][break]

then, her eyes go towards the charizard, and whiskey knows exactly what to do. his teeth laced in lightning, he lunges for the charizard with a brutal thunder fang.

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"yeah, well, you're not the nicest person i've ever fought either!" she snaps back, her temper rising with every passing second. she knows she should be scared, knows that she's outmatched and outgunned, but the adrenaline pumping through her veins just makes her reckless. makes her bold. makes her stupid.[break][break]

and maybe that's a good thing, because when death roll goes down, when that flamethrower reduces him to nothing more than a charred husk, she's too caught up in the moment to really process what's happening. all she knows is that she can't give up now. not when she's come this far. death roll is recalled in a burst of light.[break][break]

so she reaches for fancy-pants' pokeball, and with a quick throw, the togekiss appears in a flash of dazzling light, her feathers shimmering like jewels in the harsh sunlight. miyako doesn't hesitate. with a running start, she leaps onto her back, her arms wrapping around the togekiss' neck as she feels the powerful muscles beneath her ripple with anticipation.[break][break]

"alright, fancy-pants," she growls, her voice muffled against the soft down of her companion's feathers. "double-edge!"[break][break]

and then they're off, the wind whipping around them as they soar through the air, faster and faster until the world blurs around them and all that's left is the mega charizard and the goal. fancy-pants tucks her wings in close to her body, making herself as aerodynamic as possible as she rockets towards her target.

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"you're an absolute weirdo, you know that?" she retorts, and if her words have no effect on him, then at least they serve to make her feel a little bit better about her current situation. because as much as she's trying to play it cool, as much as she's trying to act like this is just another day at the office, the truth is that she's scared.[break][break]

but she's also angry. angry at this guy, this weirdo who she's never even met before, for coming out of nowhere and attacking her like she's some kind of threat. and while part of her, the more rational part, knows that there's probably a reason for it, that she's probably just in the wrong place at the wrong time, the other part of her, the part that's fueled by adrenaline and pure spite, just doesn't give a shit.[break][break]

so when bokeh goes down, when that armor cannon slams into her rotom like a ton of bricks, she's not just upset. she's pissed.[break][break]

"alright, death roll," she snarls, throwing the pokeball with a force born of frustration and, yeah, maybe just a little bit of fear. the krookodile materializes in a flash of red light, his eyes blazing with a fury to match her own, and she can't help but feel a surge of pride as she watches him take in the scene before him, his muscles tensing beneath his skin as he prepares to fight.[break][break]

"earthquake!" she commands, her voice low and dangerous, and she watches as he rears back on his hind legs, his tail lashing the ground as he gathers his power. then, with a roar that shakes the earth, he brings his massive body slamming down onto the ground, and the very world seems to quake and shudder around them as the shockwaves ripple outwards, catching both dorian and his pokemon in their unrelenting grip.[break][break]

miyako is not spared from it either. the earth ripples beneath her feet, and she's quick to fall to the ground, now incapable of rising for as long as the earthquake continues.

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