(ELITE) The PYRITE Team

Wes's laughter was infectious, and Midori started giggling along with him. He pulled away after a moment, and his face was full of joy as he said, "Look at you..." She beamed up at him as well; her tears still running down her face. She was so happy to see him alive, and she couldn't believe her luck.

Whiskey joined in the greeting as he bumped his head against her and purred, "It's good to see you again, Midori."

She joyfully responded, "I can say the same!" The Altaria lowered one of her wings from Wes in an attempt to hug the Espeon as well.

Eventually, Wes broke away from her to address the other humans and Pokemon, and after, giving her one last hug, he turned to Colm, "So uh... I have you to thank for keeping her safe?" Colm merely nodded; he had a lot of questions, but until he had a moment alone with the soldier, he didn't have the ability to ask them. Admittedly, he also didn't want to completely ruin this moment for Midori either, so he remained silent as he shook the other man's hand. He didn't miss Wes's wink either, and, at any other time, he would have suspected mild flirting, but given the circumstances, it was likely Wes was acknowledging that Colm was undercover. That probably meant that Wes had been watching them for a while, and he had heard Colm give out a fake name. Wes then started gushing about Midori,   "Thank you. Really. Midori... She's a wonderful girl, as I'm sure you've found out. I--ah,"

Midori bowed her head in mild embarrassment, and Colm couldn't help adding, "She really is." She buried her face into her feathery wings at the double compliment, and Colm's smile towards her was genuine. He had come to really care for the Altaria in the time she had been travelling with him, and he was glad that he was able to give her this. Granted, he hadn't planned on it happening here of all places, but he guessed they were lucky that they happened to run into Wes. He very firmly shoved the thought away of what would have happened if he had gone straight to HQ like he planned; he wasn't sure if he could have handled the dragon's sadness at discovering that her old trainer was not there anymore.

Given Wes's attitude at HQ, the nervousness Wes now displayed was really strange to observe. "I uh..." Wes nervously started, "I normally don't... you know... have emotional breakdowns in front of complete strangers. I had a plan to waltz in all suave and shit but uh... Yeah, that didn't happen." When he turned to look at the Altaria, he very quickly melted into the same happiness that had engulfed him while hugging Midori. The Altaria's happiness wasn't dampened by the presence of strangers, and her smile stayed strong as she looked upon them again. When her eyes met Colm's again, her expression softened as she muttered her thanks to him.

The Espeon explained for his trainer, "We're native Pyrites. Merely coming home."

Colm turned to speak to Dean, and he noticed the shorter blonde's shakiness. Now that he thought about it, the normally loud Ninetales was very quiet, and he noticed how she rubbed against her trainer. Maybe they're looking for someone too? Even though he had long given up hope finding his mother or partner, there was a strong tug of empathy. He quickly averted his eyes away from Dean to allow the other time to recover, and he directed his attention back to his other Pokemon. Hudson was sniffling; the loving Pokemon overcome with emotion for Midori. Wiggins's confident smirk was replaced with a surprisingly gentle smile, and Colm wisely didn't comment on that. Watson, however, caught his eye with an impatient twitch of his tail; the Raichu looked pained at the idea, but he wanted to hurry this up. The detective chewed his lip for a moment before waving the suggestion away, and before the Raichu could argue, he lifted a finger to indicate, "Just one more minute."

Diantha watches the reunion in silence, heart warmed by the sweet sight.  This is what she wanted to do; to protect others and reunite them with their families.  This is everything she wanted to help do.  

... And everything she'd failed to do so far.  The warmth feels a lot more like a cold pit, now.  Fingers brush against hers and she feels Cosette lay her head against her, Diantha giving her fairy a small, grateful smile.  

Someday.  Someday she will manage to help people.  Someday she will find people who need the help.  As she recalls, Justy's people need help...

But Justy can't leave with Asche... Most likely, the little one won't want to leave his friend.  And she sure won't want him to leave.

She will just have to face that problem with it comes, then.  There's no point in contemplating it now.

"I uh... I normally don't... you know... have emotional breakdowns in front of complete strangers. I had a plan to waltz in all suave and shit but uh... Yeah, that didn't happen."

She can't help but giggle a little, eyes turning to the young man's companion as he speaks up.  "We're native Pyrites. Merely coming home."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Diantha says, politely ignoring the display of emotion from Colm's pokemon.  "And I'm glad you found your friend.  Is there anything we can assist you with, or will you be moving on from here- actually, Midori mentioned looking for something.  Maybe you can help us with that?"  Chances are, he knows exactly what it is she's looking for.  Maybe he even knows where it is.  It would make the mission move along much more smoothly, and hopefully the task would be completed soon.

As the touching reunion carried on Dean found himself growing more depressed at the sight, the tanned blonde having found his Pokemon in a much shorter time than he had. Dean had been searching since before the Epidemic, and after the plague swept through the region he had lost all trace and trail of the men who had stolen his family. And he was still no closer to finding them.

His gaze finally fell away from the happy duo and he found himself wanting to look anywhere but at them. After a moment his eyes met with Bishop’s, who quickly looked away, and Dean felt himself go flush with guilt. Could the other man tell his growing anxiety? Was he that obvious? "I uh..." The newcomer’s voice broke over the moment of silence, giving Dean a moment to thankfully recover. "I normally don't... you know... have emotional breakdowns in front of complete strangers. I had a plan to waltz in all suave and shit but uh... Yeah, that didn't happen."

The new guy was charming, to say the least, and Phoenix could practically feel the blush Dean radiated from his false modesty. She eyed the man and his cat as they continued making themselves at home, much to her displeasure. "We're native Pyrites. Merely coming home." Yeah well, it’s not the home these idiots remembered.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Diantha cut in, earning a glare from the yellow fox.  "And I'm glad you found your friend.  Is there anything we can assist you with, or will you be moving on from here- actually, Midori mentioned looking for something.  Maybe you can help us with that?" Nope. Nuh uh. “Hold on just a minute Toots!” Phoenix bellowed, stomping over to the obnoxiously white pixie woman. “Who the fuck said you get a say? Hm? You aren’t welcome here so don’t go rolling out the wagon for some other shmuck!”

Dean’s mouth hung open in shock, her quick temper rising quicker than he was used to. But he couldn’t let her drive them off before he was able to get information from them. If even one of them knew anything about Cipher it would be worth keeping them around. “Phoenix, calm dow-“ “Don’t you fucking dare tell me to calm down!” He fell silent, more hurt than scared at her outburst. She hardly ever grew so aggressive towards him, usually only getting this way when she was truly pushed to an emotional edge. This was not going to end well for either of them, that much was obvious.

“I have been patient enough while you carry on with these losers. Bad enough one of your fuck-sticks went and caught Asche, but now I have to deal with one of them acting like they fucking own the place? No. This is my turf. Has been for years. I don’t care if the human carrot dug out the Under with his own two hands he doesn’t get to stay. None of them get to stay.”

She turned to look at each one of the encroaching humans and bared her fangs angrily, her eyes narrowing dangerously. “Whatever any of you came for isn’t here anymore. So do us all a favor and get out.” That was the breaking point for Dean, her words striking the final glass wall around his heart that served as his only barrier to prevent the thought of never seeing his Pokemon again from entering. “Phoenix…”

“What?!”

“Shut. Up.” His voice was low and serious, refusing to allow any argument even though there surely would be one. “This is not the time to start acting dominant with me Dean. I have fangs and fire, you have a knife. I think I’ll win this one.”

“No, you won’t. I’m done playing your stupid little game and I already warned you that if you kept up this behavior there were going to be consequences. I need them, Phoenix, and your pissy little attitude is not going to ruin what could possibly be my last chance.”

“The hell are you saying?”

“One word. Return.”

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Wes turned to the woman, who was still nagging his sense of deja vu. Who the hell was this lady, and why did he know her? Oh god, had she been a client? He quickly looked her over, sheepish smile still on full. No... Nothing came to mind... And he had a feeling he would have remembered a dame like her. "And I'm glad you found your friend. Is there anything we can assist you with, or will you be moving on from here- actually, Midori mentioned looking for something. Maybe you can help us with that?" Wes was honestly surprised to hear Midori had been looking for something here of all places and glanced to her to ask. However, he didn't really get the chance.

“Hold on just a minute Toots!” the angry fox bellowed, commanding attention from the group. Wes' brow raised a little at her bravado-- someone sure thought highly of herself. “Who the fuck said you get a say? Hm? You aren’t welcome here so don’t go rolling out the wagon for some other shmuck!”

Her cute, tight-assed trainer seemed about as shocked as everyone else and tried in vain to calm his raging Ninetales. “Phoenix, calm dow-“

“Don’t you fucking dare tell me to calm down!” she snapped back, leaving little room for argument. A quick glance to the blonde spelled out trouble; he looked more scared and hurt than anything. Wes wondered if he'd be able to draw his pistol quick enough, if it were needed. “I have been patient enough while you carry on with these losers. Bad enough one of your fuck-sticks went and caught Asche, but now I have to deal with one of them acting like they fucking own the place? No. This is my turf. Has been for years. I don’t care if the human carrot dug out the Under with his own two hands he doesn’t get to stay. None of them get to stay.”

She glowered and snarled at each of them, baring her long fangs at them. Whiskey brushed up against Wes' leg, silently letting his trainer know that he would attack if need be. Though Wes had to applaud her vigor, there was no way he would allow himself to be chased off his own home. Sure, she'd played steward, but he hadn't come all this way, after all the horrors he'd been put through, to simply be told off by some snarky fluff bitch. “Whatever any of you came for isn’t here anymore. So do us all a favor and get out.”

It seemed that the blonde had had enough of her shenanigans, however. “Phoenix…”

“What?!”

His tone became low and stern. Good. “Shut. Up.”

“This is not the time to start acting dominant with me Dean. I have fangs and fire, you have a knife. I think I’ll win this one.” Whiskey and Wes shared a small glance. Man, someone needed a reality check. Or a good smack upside the head.

“No, you won’t. I’m done playing your stupid little game and I already warned you that if you kept up this behavior there were going to be consequences. I need them, Phoenix, and your pissy little attitude is not going to ruin what could possibly be my last chance.”

“The hell are you saying?”

“One word. Return.” And with that, the argument was over. Well, more than likely postponed. Wes didn't see that spitfire Ninetales taking being returned well. He cleared his throat a little, then looked to the blonde.

"Sorry for that," he began, offering the blonde a hand and then to the others gathered around, save for Justin, who was too busy fuming in the back to be social. "I'm Wes, this is Whiskey. Didn't mean to cause such a fuss, but I do have an olive branch for your angry lady." He nodded to where he'd been hiding. "I have some supplies I can offer in return for, you know, shelter and cooperation--"

Justin soon stomped up to Dean, gently grasping his shoulder. "Dean, could I talk to you? And Diane and everyone?" Wes let out a soft chuckle.

"Whatever you want to say to them, you can say in front of me," Wes calmly cooed as he crossed his arms, earning more of Justy's ire. "I can handle it."

"Fine. Everyone, Wes is a crook. I've known him for a long time -years- and he's... He's a terrible person. A known thief and... and..." He looked uncomfortable a moment, then added in a disgusted whisper, "Escort. We shouldn't let him stay with us."

"That's rude," Wes smirkingly chided, shifting his weight to the other foot. "I'm willing to share water and food and all you wanna do is condemn me. Super rude."

Diantha was polite as she greeted Wes, "It's a pleasure to meet you. And I'm glad you found your friend.  Is there anything we can assist you with, or will you be moving on from here- actually, Midori mentioned looking for something.  Maybe you can help us with that?" At the mention of their mission, Midori realized that Wes's presence completely negated any need to find something of his. She had wanted a momento of her former trainer, but since he was right there, that was now a moot point. The Altaria opened her beak to speak, but anything the quiet Pokemon would have said was drowned out by Phoenix.

The Ninetales yelled at Diantha as she stomped over to the white clad woman,“Hold on just a minute Toots!” With Cossette right there, Colm wasn't particularly worried for her, but he really hoped this didn't escalate to a fight. The pissed off fox all but snarled, “Who the fuck said you get a say? Hm? You aren’t welcome here so don’t go rolling out the wagon for some other shmuck!”

Apparently this level of rage was unexpected for the Ninetales; her trainer's mouth hung open in shock. Dean collected himself enough to say, “Phoenix, calm dow-“

However, Phoenix was out of patience, “Don’t you fucking dare tell me to calm down! I have been patient enough while you carry on with these losers. Bad enough one of your fuck-sticks went and caught Asche, but now I have to deal with one of them acting like they fucking own the place? No. This is my turf. Has been for years. I don’t care if the human carrot dug out the Under with his own two hands he doesn’t get to stay. None of them get to stay.” Colm had no stakes in this town beyond finding whatever Midori was looking for, and with Wes there, he had a feeling that she wouldn't care about that anymore. He did want to check some of the old Cipher hotspots, and if he had to, he would find a way to look, territorial Ninetales be damned. It was when she suddenly turned on the rest of them with her fangs bared that his Pokemon became defensive. Watson shoved his way between Colm and Phoenix, and he bared his teeth right back with his tail raised. He was small, but it was clear that he was a battler. Thankfully, all she did was spit out, “Whatever any of you came for isn’t here anymore. So do us all a favor and get out.”

Watson's posture relaxed a little when Dean spoke up, “Phoenix…”

“What?!”

“Shut. Up,” the tone was serious and should have allowed no more argument. Should was the operative word there.

“This is not the time to start acting dominant with me Dean. I have fangs and fire, you have a knife. I think I’ll win this one.” At that, Colm raised an eyebrow and shared a knowing glance with Wiggins; the cat rolling his eyes at the petty power comparison.

“No, you won’t. I’m done playing your stupid little game and I already warned you that if you kept up this behavior there were going to be consequences. I need them, Phoenix, and your pissy little attitude is not going to ruin what could possibly be my last chance.”

“The hell are you saying?”

“One word. Return.” The Ninetales was recalled, and the argument was temporarily put on hold. Colm did not envy Dean having to deal with her later, but if Dean had managed her for this long, then he obviously knew what he was doing. Watson visibly calmed down with the spitfire Pokemon put away for the moment, and his tail lazily curled behind him again.

Wes took this as his cue to speak up, "Sorry for that. I'm Wes, this is Whiskey. Didn't mean to cause such a fuss, but I do have an olive branch for your angry lady." The soldier nodded back to where he had obviously been hidden, "I have some supplies I can offer in return for, you know, shelter and cooperation--"

More interruptions, this time in the form of Justy, and he looked livid about something. The purple haired man grabbed Dean by the shoulder and urgently said, "Dean, could I talk to you? And Diane and everyone?" Colm was confused as to what Justy's problem was, and there was a mild bit of concern that it might have involved Colm's ruse. It was more likely to involve Wes, but who Justy meant by 'everyone' left it a little to vague for Colm's liking.

This small bit of paranoia was calmed by Wes' confident chuckle, "Whatever you want to say to them, you can say in front of me. I can handle it." ...Given that reaction, Colm honestly wouldn't be surprised if this was someone Wes had pissed off in his past.

Justy was angry as he finally announced, "Fine. Everyone, Wes is a crook. I've known him for a long time -years- and he's... He's a terrible person. A known thief and... and..." The man looked uncomfortable before finally saying, "Escort. We shouldn't let him stay with us." Colm could see how the thief accusation would be relevant, but it felt almost laughable for someone to bring up being an escort as something that people would care about during an apocalypse. Then again, Colm bitterly thought, prejudice runs deep. Midori, he noticed, looked incredibly defensive, and though she still didn't say anything, she sent a pointed glare towards Justy.

Wes was unfazed by the rather weak shot to his character, "That's rude.  I'm willing to share water and food and all you wanna do is condemn me. Super rude."

"While the thief accusation is relevant," Colm admitted while pointedly ignoring the "escort" comment, "There is a simple way to make sure that it isn't a problem. Don't leave your stuff unsupervised. Which would likely happen around a stranger anyway." At Midori's questioning look, he spoke again, "Besides, I've been travelling with one of his own Pokemon, and she thinks very highly of him." To seal the deal, he added, "No offense, but I think I trust Midori, someone I've traveled with for a while now, more than you, someone I just met." All in all, he was aware of Wes' criminal past, but even before he met Midori, he never thought of him as a bad person. Afterwards, it was clear that the Altaria had adored Wes, and given that she had seen some terrible people in this world, he knew that she wouldn't have cared that much for someone who was cruel.

“Hold on just a minute Toots!”

Diantha had been expecting a reply, but not that.  Though she doesn't jump, she can't help but cringe at the surprise of being met with such vehemency from someone she wasn't even talking to, turning her body to stare in shock as the blindingly yellow fox stomped up to invade her personal space.  

Within the next second she forces calm.  It's just another tantrum.  It's not like she's never seen one before.  The Champion watches with a raised brow as Phoenix carries on like a child screaming about a favorite toy that no one else can share because she says so.   “Who the fuck said you get a say? Hm? You aren’t welcome here so don’t go rolling out the wagon for some other shmuck!”

Apparently, Dean hadn't anticipated that either.  Diantha is a touch surprised, but still.  Even if he's used to her attitude, some measures of rudeness a person just can't get used to.  “Phoenix, calm dow-“

“Don’t you fucking dare tell me to calm down! I have been patient enough while you carry on with these losers. Bad enough one of your fuck-sticks went and caught Asche, but now I have to deal with one of them acting like they fucking own the place? No. This is my turf. Has been for years. I don’t care if the human carrot dug out the Under with his own two hands he doesn’t get to stay. None of them get to stay.”

Now Phoenix bares her teeth.  Cosette is losing her temper.  Diantha holds up a finger to tell her to stay her hand.  Not yet.  Only if the fox attacks do they return in kind.

Cosette isn't pleased about this but unlike someone she'll actually listen to her human.  It doesn't, however, stop the fairy from boring a hole into Phoenix's skull with her glare.   “Whatever any of you came for isn’t here anymore. So do us all a favor and get out.”

“Phoenix…”

“What?!”

“Shut. Up.”

“This is not the time to start acting dominant with me Dean. I have fangs and fire, you have a knife. I think I’ll win this one.”

... Would... she actually attack him?  Cosette is struggling to obey Diantha's order.  That pissy little brat!  How dare she threaten her partner like that!?

“No, you won’t. I’m done playing your stupid little game and I already warned you that if you kept up this behavior there were going to be consequences. I need them, Phoenix, and your pissy little attitude is not going to ruin what could possibly be my last chance.”

“The hell are you saying?”

“One word. Return.”

Diantha allows herself a smug little smirk as Phoenix is recalled against her will.  She can't be one of those Pokemon that can easily escape from pokeballs, not with the way Dean recalled her.  There was too much certainty in his voice for her to be good at bursting out.  Hopefully she's the type who's made sleepy by being returned and will be more mellow when she's let back out, but Diantha feels that's probably as likely as waking up to find out the last four years was a bad dream.  

"Sorry for that. I'm Wes, this is Whiskey. Didn't mean to cause such a fuss, but I do have an olive branch for your angry lady."  As if Phoenix will take it.  Diantha supposes it depends on what it actually is.  "I have some supplies I can offer in return for, you know, shelter and cooperation--"

Movement from the corner of her eye draws her attention back to Justy.  She blinks at the look on his face.  Disgust and rage?  He's... not pissed off about Phoenix, is he?  This would be quite the overdue reaction if it were, especially as the problem was already handled...

But no, he walks up to Dean and grasps his shoulder.  "Dean, could I talk to you? And Diane and everyone?"

... Be a bit more vague why don't you?  As if the group could magically tell what he meant by 'everyone.'

Wes breathes out quiet laughter.  Oh.  This must be about him.  "Whatever you want to say to them, you can say in front of me. I can handle it."

"Fine. Everyone, Wes is a crook. I've known him for a long time -years- and he's... He's a terrible person. A known thief and... and..."

Theif is bad.  Diantha clenches her hand around her shoulder bag a bit tighter, quirking an eyebrow again, this time at Justy.  What's worse than a thief?  A murderer?  A rapist?  if it were either of those wouldn't he just blurt it out already?

"Escort".  

... Seriously?

"We shouldn't let him stay with us."

"That's rude.  I'm willing to share water and food and all you wanna do is condemn me. Super rude."

"Police.  Help.  Prostitute," Diantha says in the most deadpan voice she can muster.  "Somebody save us before he slaughters us all with his devilish handsomeness and performance in bed."

"Diane!"  Cosette snorts laughter into her hand, shoulders shaking with badly contained mirth.

"Oh come on that was the worst reason I've ever heard not to trust someone!  I thought he was going to say 'murderer' or 'rapist' or 'child snatcher' or anything along those lines and then he comes out with that."

"While the thief accusation is relevant," Colm admits, "There is a simple way to make sure that it isn't a problem. Don't leave your stuff unsupervised. Which would likely happen around a stranger anyway."

Advertised by the fact that everyone here is still alive.  People who haven't learned not to leave their things unsupervised near strangers are probably, unfortunately, dead by now.

"Besides, I've been travelling with one of his own Pokemon, and she thinks very highly of him. No offense, but I think I trust Midori, someone I've travelled with for a while now, more than you, someone I just met."

"Midori's word is good enough for me."  She shrugs.  "I see no reason to distrust you more than I would any other stranger.  Besides, who knows when Justy last saw you.  For all we know it could have been years before the apocalypse.  I don't approve of stealing but I also don't approve to rushes of judgement.  What I do approve of is someone willing to be a team player and be kind to others even though the world has ended."

The look on the Ninetales face was one of utter shock and horror as the word left Dean's mouth, the dark Luxury ball already in hand glowing brightly as it rapidly recalled its inhabitant. She hadn't been summoned to a pokeball in years, as almost all of his ranch pokemon were free-range, but sometime the more willful ones needed a place to go where they could no longer be a menace so Dean had instituted a pokeball system. He wished he didn't have to use it now, however.

"Sorry for that. I'm Wes, this is Whiskey. Didn't mean to cause such a fuss, but I do have an olive branch for your angry lady." Wes's polite attempt to diffuse the tense situation was met with Dean's exhausted smile. "It's quite alright, you didn't do anything other than show up. It seems today's events have left her rather anxious though I can't say I really blame her." The offer was very kind at least, there was something to say for that in the world they lived in. "I have some supplies I can offer in return for, you know, shelter and cooperation--"

Wes trailed off when a hand suddenly clapped onto Dean's shoulder making the blonde nearly elbow Justy in reflex, forcing himself to stop short when he realized who had grabbed him. What the hell was he doing grabbing him like that? "Dean, could I talk to you? And Diane and everyone?" Dean stood silently for a moment, confusion evident, as he tried to figure out why Justy was suddenly so defensive about Wes when he hadn't been around the others. "Um...I guess?" he replied, but the lighter blonde had another suggestion.

"Whatever you want to say to them, you can say in front of me. I can handle it."

"Do you...do you two know each other?" Dean asked warily, pointing between Wes and Justy as Wes sported a confidant grin and crossed his arms. The chuckle did not help. It seemed the purple haired man didn't take kindly to it either as he soon began to huff and all but spit out his response. "Fine. Everyone, Wes is a crook. I've known him for a long time -years- and he's... He's a terrible person. A known thief and... and..." The way he struggled made it seem like a sudden bombshell was going to drop.

"Escort. We shouldn't let him stay with us."

Escort?! That's what his big deal was? So a guy turns tricks and that makes him the devil? Dean was suddenly more angry at Justy's prejudice than he had been that morning when he first overheard the idiot loudly announcing his distaste for Pyrite and its natives when he sauntered into town. His hands clenched into fists and he was about to deck Justy when the others began their own narratives.

"Police.  Help.  Prostitute. Somebody save us before he slaughters us all with his devilish handsomeness and performance in bed."

"That's rude.  I'm willing to share water and food and all you wanna do is condemn me. Super rude."

"While the thief accusation is relevant, there is a simple way to make sure that it isn't a problem. Don't leave your stuff unsupervised. Which would likely happen around a stranger anyway."

As they began to all mock and berate Justy suddenly Dean found himself without a voice, but not without his anger. He glared at Justy as though he could set him on fire with his gaze before storming off, not giving one wit about what anyone was going to say or think about the tantrum exit. They were all a bunch of idiots, carrying on this conversation in broad daylight. The sun would be setting soon and he had wasted an entire day that could have been productive on these blathering buffoons. Phoenix had been right, this was a terrible idea and all it took was one idiot statement from Justy to set them all off.

He hadn't gotten far from them before he paused, nearly shaking with emotion as he turned back to glare at all of them. "You idiots have fun arguing, I'm going to go find Cipher myself before the lot of you get me killed. I don't care what you all do but I'm going to just stay out of it. Don't get in my way and I won't get in yours. Have a nice life." With that said the blonde felt the coiled tension in his stomach relax, the burden of their caregiver lifted from his shoulders as he began his march home. He would have to apologize to Phoenix when he got back to their den but at least she would be more forgiving if they were gone from sight.

Hopefully.


((Next round I am going to be pushing us towards Sunset and Evening to get everyone working together for shelter, just a heads up))

Though Wes had no real expectation for Justin's paranoia of used nether bits to gain traction, hearing the deadpan mockery come out of the woman's mouth still managed to give him warm fuzzy feelings inside. "Police. Help. Prostitute," Justin's alarm was a sweet satisfaction; looked like he was going to be the one chased out of town instead. "Somebody save us before he slaughters us all with his devilish handsomeness and performance in bed."

"Diane!" The Gardevoir light-heartedly scolded her trainer, but Wes fully condoned the comment. He gave the woman a little wink, earning a small eye roll from Whiskey. He liked that, "devilish handsomeness". It was even better that Justin paled at the humor, his warning going completely unheeded.

"Oh come on, that was the worst reason I've ever heard not to trust someone! I thought he was going to say 'murderer' or 'rapist' or 'child snatcher' or anything along those lines and then he comes out with that." Justin tried making his case, but even Detective Colman came to Wes' defense. Aww. So sweet.

"While the thief accusation is relevant," he began, "there is a simple way to make sure that it isn't a problem. Don't leave your stuff unsupervised. Which would likely happen around a stranger anyway."

Wes' eyes lingered on Justin as the others dismantled his paranoia, the two locking gazes a moment. In Justin's expression was an unbridled rage that Wes hadn't thought the powdered puff capable, but then again, he didn't care. What was he going to do? Wes' smirk pulled a little more, silently taunting the Phenac royal. Go on, Justin. Make a move. Make me more sympathetic..

But oh-ho-ho, the dear Detective wasn't done protecting Wes. "Besides, I've been traveling with one of his own Pokemon, and she thinks very highly of him. No offense, but I think I trust Midori, someone I've traveled with for a while now, more than you, someone I just met." At the mention of the sweet little Altaria, Wes couldn't help but look back at her, his victorious smirk back to a full-blown smile. God, he loved that puffy dragon. Still had his back, even after being separated for four years.

"Midori's word is good enough for me." The woman agreed -dammit, he still couldn't remember where he had seen her- and Wes turned to her as she continued. "I see no reason to distrust you more than I would any other stranger. Besides, who knows when Justy last saw you. For all we know it could have been years before the apocalypse. I don't approve of stealing but I also don't approve to rushes of judgement. What I do approve of is someone willing to be a team player and be kind to others even though the world has ended."

But apparently, the blonde had been about to explode the entire time. Without a word, he turned from the group and began to storm off, leaving them all confused. "You idiots have fun arguing, I'm going to go find Cipher myself before the lot of you get me killed. I don't care what you all do but I'm going to just stay out of it. Don't get in my way and I won't get in yours. Have a nice life."

The blue pokemon with goggles immediately followed him, his long, dangerous tail bouncing awkwardly off the dirty concrete. "D-Dean, wait!" he called, easily catching up to the human's side. "I wasn't arguing!" Justin gave Wes an ugly glare before trotting to follow the two receding males. "Dean-- Dean!" he called, leaving the rest of them in the middle of town, bereft of instruction or clue as to what to do next.

Well, for Wes, that answer was easy. No matter what some stuck-up fox thought, this was still his town. The mention of Cipher certainly had his attention, but chasing an obviously upset person like this "Dean" person likely wasn't the best course of action. At least, not right now. Maybe tomorrow, things would be calm enough for them to talk again, but for now, Wes was perfectly content to let the two slip away.

He turned to the others and shrugged. "Guess we're on our own, then?" he began, walking back toward his hiding spot to fetch his ride. He emerged soon after, cycle in tow, patting the boxes of goodies he'd stolen. "I think my old apartment is still intact, so that's where I'm heading. It'll be a bit cozy for all of us, but you're all still welcome, granted if I still have, you know, a floor and all of that."

Whiskey rose and hopped into his spot in the sidecar, delicately situated on a few large boxes of water. "And the blonde? What are you going to do about him?" Whiskey asked aloud.

Wes shrugged as he started moving the bike. "Guy's probably had a bad day. We can talk tomorrow; hopefully he'll have chilled his tits by then." He glanced to the others as he began to lead the way to his old apartment. "In any case, I don't think I remember any of your names, sorry. Midori and Whiskey can tell you that any names outside of booze and machine parts I'm pretty useless with. And even then, it's kind of a toss up." He gave a small laugh. "Mind giving them again?"

---

In the meantime, Justy was not having such an easy time. He caught up to Dean fairly easily, as he was considerably taller than Dean, but even with that advantage, keeping stride with the smaller man's stomping was a little difficult to gauge. Asche fell in step on the other side, watching the exchange with worry, magnified by the ridiculous goggles. "Dean, please! Why are you so angry? I was just worried-- Wes is a truly terrible person! All of those Pyrite stereotypes are completely applicable to him. I just wanted to warn you, that's all!"

It almost looked like all that was well would end well, but then the Ninetales exploded. Metaphorically, of course. Her bitchfest washed over the attempted words of her trainer, the actually reasonable one, and when the fox bared her teeth at him and everyone else, Athena looked ready to break a skull. Matt himself was sick of having this bright yellow dickhead trying to act like she was the high-and-mighty goddess of this town, especially when he didn't even want to stick around in the first place. These threats were tiring. Phoenix was outnumbered here, considering how literally everybody had Pokemon out that would defend them in a heartbeat, but that didn't stop her ranting from carrying on.

“Whatever any of you came for isn’t here anymore. So do us all a favor and get out.”
Oh.
Oh, she is just asking to have all of those teeth knocked out. Matt thought of his sister and brother, how obvious it is that neither of them are in this place; yeah, the Ninetales has aimed her petty little verbal barbs at the wrong place. He doesn't need reminding that over half of his family is fucking missing. His hands curl up into fists, shaking slightly with the effort of restraining himself from an outright fight. Athena, sensing the intense emotion, placed her hand upon her trainer's shoulder; in this scenario, among all these people, they both had to stay calm. Regardless, the Gardevoir still felt a sense of satisfaction when Phoenix was recalled to her Pokeball; let the bitch stay there and stew, Athena didn't care. Anyone that threatened and upset her trainer could count themselves lucky that they were still even in one piece. Though this is only a temporary solution, both her and Matt are more than glad to be rid of the loudmouth Fire-type for now.

Though he definitely had an odd entrance, the newest addition to the ragtag team is way more amiable than the self-proclaimed ruler of Pyrite Town. Matt accepts the offered handshake with ease; with the loud voice of the Ninetales now gone, he feels less inclined to stick completely to the sidelines.
"I'm Wes, this is Whiskey. Didn't mean to cause such a fuss, but I do have an olive branch for your angry lady. I have some supplies I can offer in return for, you know, shelter and cooperation--" The offer of supplies is never something Matt can pass up, and he can always rely on Athena to help him catch onto signs of deception. To his ever-worsening luck, Wes is cut off by a pissy-looking Justy. What's his deal? From their limited exchange, it seems the two know each other, though neither look very enthused with the fact. Matt is completely disinterested in whatever bad blood is between them, only vaguely paying attention due to the fact that pretty much everyone is now invested into whatever it is Justy has to say about the new...er guy. "Fine. Everyone, Wes is a crook. I've known him for a long time -years- and he's... He's a terrible person. A known thief and... and..." And what? The suspense is killing him. "Escort.We shouldn't let him stay with us." ...Escort? So he just...really didn't like prostitutes? Yeah, sure, it's a detail Matt could've lived without knowing, but he'd been wholeheartedly expecting to hear “murderer.” The thief part is definitely not something to overlook, but while Matt had been prepared to take Justy at least a little seriously, all he's seeing now is paranoia painted all over him. Apparently every other reasonable person here finds it laughable as well; even if Justy is right about that first part, he's gone and thrown all his credibility out of a window. Genius.

"That's rude. I'm willing to share water and food and all you wanna do is condemn me. Super rude."
"Police.  Help.  Prostitute. Somebody save us before he slaughters us all with his devilish handsomeness and performance in bed." Athena couldn't hold back her own laughter at that. All Matt could think was of how looks could certainly be deceiving, because as nice as this lady appeared to be, that was savage. Diane one, Justy zero. Her reasoning resonates with Matt's own-seriously, if you're going to try and out someone as a criminal, why would you bring up the thief aspect before mentioning the whole prostitute deal? Just thinking about it makes Matt want to facepalm in the most dramatic manner possible; this is almost as hilariously stupid as the time Chris had shown him a video of a guy aiming a rifle at his own face. As Fancy Name Bishop says, there's a good way to make thieves irrelevant-keep an incredibly close eye on your stuff, though he forgot to mention that if someone does try to steal your things, you make them pay. Ah, whatever, that might as well be implied.
"Midori's word is good enough for me. I see no reason to distrust you more than I would any other stranger.  Besides, who knows when Justy last saw you.  For all we know it could have been years before the apocalypse.  I don't approve of stealing but I also don't approve to rushes of judgement. What I do approve of is someone willing to be a team player and be kind to others even though the world has ended." Nice. Matt isn't one to give second chances, really, but Wes hasn't done anything so far, and accusations aren't always true. Not to mention, Justy isn't the one offering up supplies now, is he? If Wes really is a criminal, then they'd all handle it, simple as that. Why some people have to make things so complicated, I have no idea.

But, out of fucking nowhere, Blonde Dude decides to follow in his Pokemon's footsteps and start acting like a complete bitch. He must have been good at hiding his anger, because up until now, Matt had thought of him as being the tolerable one of the duo. "You idiots have fun arguing, I'm going to go find Cipher myself before the lot of you get me killed. I don't care what you all do but I'm going to just stay out of it. Don't get in my way and I won't get in yours. Have a nice life." As he marched off, Matt realized how badly he wanted to punch something, or maybe someone. “Idiots?” Seriously? What the hell is Cipher, anyways? Matt cut off the flow of questions in his own mind, because he did not give a damn. If this guy wanted to pull a 180 like that, he could be Matt's guest. He has no intention of staying around someone who would so readily insult people he had talked about “needing” not too long ago. Fucking hypocrite. After all that talk towards his Ninetales, it turned out he was a dick too. Fantastic. I can find Rose without your help, thanks.
”Don't let the door hit you on the way out, buddy,” Matt mutters, quickly thinking of his options. Rose is still out there, obviously, but there's no way Erasa has had enough time to recover from the long flight yet. Matt isn't willing to let his Talonflame collapse out of sheer exhaustion, especially when they were in the middle of a desert. If he doesn't let her rest, then he is looking at undergoing what would be a suicide mission. Looks like he might have to stay with these guys for a little while longer, but the more he waits, the farther away Rose could be. It's a rock and a hard place at this point. Matt would have to take the risk of his search being extended in order to let Erasa return to full strength, if he wants to avoid a better chance of getting himself killed, which would help absolutely nobody. Guess I'm sticking around, then. For now, at least.

By now, Wes has brought back a motorbike-lucky bastard, having that. It must make traveling through the desert a thousand times easier. If Matt had one, he wouldn't need to worry about Erasa having to handle the bulk of their traveling...but then, he'd have to leave the thing behind when they crossed regions again. Nothing is ever easy, is it? Athena is looking at him with curiosity, as if wondering what he is thinking. Or maybe she already knew, and is plotting a way to break into the nearest motor company to get them a sweet ride of their own. You could never tell with her.
"I think my old apartment is still intact, so that's where I'm heading. It'll be a bit cozy for all of us, but you're all still welcome, granted if I still have, you know, a floor and all of that."
"And the blonde? What are you going to do about him?"
"Guy's probably had a bad day. We can talk tomorrow; hopefully he'll have chilled his tits by then. In any case, I don't think I remember any of your names, sorry. Midori and Whiskey can tell you that any names outside of booze and machine parts I'm pretty useless with. And even then, it's kind of a toss up. Mind giving them again?" Athena smiles; she already likes this guy. He seems a lot easier to get along with then Dean and his Pokemon, which is always a good thing.
”I'm Matt,” her trainer says, and the Gardevoir quickly follows suite. ”My name's Athena.”

Diantha's deadpan remarks had Wiggins cackling, and Colm barely contained his mirth. Afterwards, she agreed, "Midori's word is good enough for me. I see no reason to distrust you more than I would any other stranger.  Besides, who knows when Justy last saw you.  For all we know it could have been years before the apocalypse.  I don't approve of stealing but I also don't approve to rushes of judgement. What I do approve of is someone willing to be a team player and be kind to others even though the world has ended."

For reasons that Colm honestly couldn't figure out, Dean stormed off; his anger matching Phoenix's. He turned before getting too far away to berate them, "You idiots have fun arguing, I'm going to go find Cipher myself before the lot of you get me killed. I don't care what you all do but I'm going to just stay out of it. Don't get in my way and I won't get in yours. Have a nice life." In the face of Dean's anger, Colm's earlier good mood faded, and his emotions hardened. There hadn't been an argument so much as a take down, and Justy's accusation, however silly, had to be addressed. Though the Cipher comment had caught his attention, chasing down a pissy person was the wrong way to get information, and it's not like he had told them to leave. It was also unlikely that the man was going to skip town soon if he had deep roots here, so Colm resolved to let him calm down before approaching him again. If that didn't pan out, well, Dean didn't have to know that he might have a shadow.

The strange blue Pokemon and Justy ran after Dean as they gave apologies, but Colm's feet remained firmly planted where the rest of the group stood. Violet eyes met green as Wiggins climbed onto his shoulder and questioningly tilted his head towards the departing group. The implied question was, "Should I follow them?" Colm shook his head at the idea. Wiggins was good at sneaking and getting away, but he feared pissing off the blonde even more at this point. He had actual questions for the blonde at this point, and getting on his bad side would hurt his chances for answers.

In the awkard silence following Dean's departure, Wes broke the ice, "Guess we're on our own, then?" At this point, he turned and walked to his hiding spot where he pulled out the motorbike that Colm thought had been locked up at HQ and a fair amount of supplies in the side car. He had so many questions about why Wes was here, but he still didn't know enough about the people present to actually bring up HQ. Leading potential crazies or bandits to the haven would be a disaster, and he wanted no part in causing that. Wes patted the supplies in the sidecar, "I think my old apartment is still intact, so that's where I'm heading. It'll be a bit cozy for all of us, but you're all still welcome, granted if I still have, you know, a floor and all of that."

Whiskey leapt into the sidecar and found some room to sit before asking, "And the blonde? What are you going to do about him?" Valid question for sure.

Wes' response was calm and very similar to Colm's thoughts, "Guy's probably had a bad day. We can talk tomorrow; hopefully he'll have chilled his tits by then." At this point, he had started moving, and Midori had unconciously started following Wes towards his apartment. The redhead quickly stooped to pick up Hudson for travelling, and caught up with her. The Altaria started as she realized that she hadn't even waited for Colm or the others, and she sent an apologetic and sheepish look towards him. He wasn't hurt however and merely rubbed the top of her head. Wes then continued speaking, "In any case, I don't think I remember any of your names, sorry. Midori and Whiskey can tell you that any names outside of booze and machine parts I'm pretty useless with. And even then, it's kind of a toss up. Mind giving them again?" Midori nodded in agreement with his admission.

Matt and Athena both gave their names, and Colm answered with his cover name again, "Bishop." He then decided to go ahead and give the rest of his Pokemon's names, "Wiggins is the Purrloin, Hudson is the Minccino, the Raichu is Watson."

Dean storms off, braid swinging and angry words flying.  Diantha stares in surprise after him, but...

Well, if he wants to be suddenly hostile, he can work that out himself.  No point in chasing someone she needs nothing from and owes nothing.

Wes brings the startled and confused group back into focus.  "Guess we're on our own, then?"  She watches him retrieve his motorbike.  Hmmm, that looks like a fine bike!  Her insides stir at the memory of flying down the road, the wind in her hair, the rush of the road, the speed.

It's too bad her motorcycle must be toast.  She knew heck all about how to fix it, but she did clean it and ensure it was in good working condition.  It must have fallen to ruin by now...

"I think my old apartment is still intact, so that's where I'm heading. It'll be a bit cozy for all of us, but you're all still welcome, granted if I still have, you know, a floor and all of that."

Please let his apartment still be intact.  It would be nice to be welcome somewhere.

Whiskey hops into the sidecar, addressing him human.  "And the blonde? What are you going to do about him?"

"Guy's probably had a bad day. We can talk tomorrow; hopefully he'll have chilled his tits by then."

Phoenix had been giving him so much stress earlier.  It's not unreasonable to assume it just boiled over.  Why at that moment is a mystery, but... still.  It's very likely he will calm soon.  Diantha and Cosette follow alongside Wes.  "In any case, I don't think I remember any of your names, sorry. Midori and Whiskey can tell you that any names outside of booze and machine parts I'm pretty useless with. And even then, it's kind of a toss up. Mind giving them again?"

Everyone is happy to comply, and as they give their names, she finds herself wondering again if she should reveal her true identity...

No.  There's no reason to at the moment.  "Diane, and this is Cosette.  We're happy to meet you."

"D-Dean, wait!"
"I wasn't arguing!"

"Dean-- Dean!"

The hurried cries chasing after his retreating form fell on deaf ears, the blonde's rage subsided after the therapeutic venting and the empty void allowing his sorrows to claw their way back to the surface of his mind. He had spent the last several months fighting back the demons of his depression only to have them ruthlessly thrown back in his face upon meeting humans once again. Humans...what good had humans ever done for him? Short of the doctors who saved his life after Cipher ruthlessly tried to end it, he had not had very pleasant experiences with the creatures. It's why pokemon made so much more sense to him.

His brain barely registered that Asche had caught up to him, the blue Ab-thing falling into a quiet pace beside him as he marched back to his and Phoenix's home. And remarkably enough it wasn't until Justy opened his mouth that he realized the other man had followed as well. "Dean, please! Why are you so angry? I was just worried-- Wes is a truly terrible person! All of those Pyrite stereotypes are completely applicable to him. I just wanted to warn you, that's all!" His fist was flying before he even registered the emotion behind the punch, decking Justy square in the cheek as he stopped to address the bigot.

"You...you just can't stop, can you?!" His knuckles stung from catching on the taller man's sharp cheekbone, the petite blonde keeping his fist tight to his hip to try and ignore the pain. Of course someone like him would have fucking razor blades in his face, he was  practically a living example of the phrase 'Beauty is Pain' which only seemed to fuel his arrogance. "What they hell makes you think you are so much better than everyone? You know, where I'm from, we weren't very fond of your city. It's too shiny and artificial, like a gilded cage over a silk rose. Nothing about you or your town is real so why do you think it gives you the right to dump on people who live actual lives? Who have to struggle day to day just to make ends meet when all you have to do is wake up in the morning?"

Dean's cheeks were hot, the sand and wind sticking to the trails of tears and chaffing the delicate skin until it turned red. He was shaking from the effort to not start wailing on the purple hair man before him, the temptation for too real to simply vent all of his anger physically on another person rather than accept his darkest fears. It wasn't true anger, or hate, or even dislike for Justy. It was fear. His depression had been buried so long that now, with an outlet, he couldn't contain the twisted monster it had become and the emotional storm brewing inside his soul was threatening to swallow him whole.

"Just....just go...please Justy. I'm better off alone." The blonde's eyes were glued to the ground as he spoke, too ashamed to look at Justy directly. "Go back to the others, they can help you, not me. I couldn't even help my pokemon when they needed me most, I wouldn't be of any use to you." He dared a chance to look up and meet the other man's eyes, his shining eyes gaze pleading desperately for him to listen. "I can't fail anyone else if I'm alone."

With the tension somewhat alleviated, the others seemed a little warmer as they walked with Wes. Whiskey watched the others with an air of apprehension, but he knew his trainer's easy-going and friendly attitude often dissolved stress more than helped perpetuate it. ”I'm Matt,” the rather quiet male trainer spoke first, somewhat surprising Whiskey. His Gardevoir spoke soon after. ”My name's Athena.” Wes gave a small nod of affirmation, though Whiskey knew better; he might still have trouble later, but that was what telepathy was for.

"Bishop." The detective spoke next, causing Wes' mischievous grin to widen a fraction. Whiskey knew that grin. ~Don't be gross, Wes. Please. I know it's never stopped you before, but there are other people around.~ The comment caused the ex-soldier to snort a little and Whiskey hoped that the detective didn't catch that. "Wiggins is the Purrloin, Hudson is the Minccino, the Raichu is Watson." Wes gave another nod, but Whiskey knew now that Wes' mind was currently completely useless. For information, at least.

The elegant woman was the final trainer to speak. Whiskey remembered Wes' hesitation when he saw her, but he didn't mention actually knowing her. It didn't look like he'd had a revelation yet. Still, the fact that he recognized her was... concerning. Wes didn't recognize many upstanding people, after all, unless they were interrogating him. Everyone else he knew were usually, well, degenerates. "Diane, and this is Cosette. We're happy to meet you."

Wes gave a final nod and grinned back at them. "Good to meet all of you. I haven't run across many other humans that weren't, you know, douchebags. Nice to have a change of pace. Well, we don't have much farther to go. My place is... oh, intact!" He pointed to a drab olive building, looking about as decent as it had generally looked in the past-- albeit with a few more smashed windows than Whiskey remembered. Still, Wes' upbeat attitude didn't waver. "I bet there's still floors, Whiskey," he gloated, patting the Espeon on the head.

It was a simple and brisk walk to the building as Wes got more and more excited about linoleum tiling. The front doors were barely hanging onto their hinges as they passed through the threshold, but the open pathway provided enough light to see how the interior had fared. Blood was, of course, spattered in lots of different places. Papers fluttered about as the stagnant wind boredly toyed with them. The lobby itself was a wide space with a small area of mail lockers and a front desk with bars protecting the window. Wes paused as he reached the center, then looked to Matt and Diane.

"Can either of you lovely Gardevoir sense anything?" he asked in a hushed voice. "I heard your evolutionary line can sense Undead and Infected." Well, Whiskey had to hand it to him that he was at least being careful. Sort of.

---

Justy had not expected the punch.

"You...you just can't stop, can you?!" Dean cried, his frustration and anger almost as hurtful as his fist. Almost. Justy's hand immediately went to his affronted cheek, staring at the small blonde in horror and fear. "What they hell makes you think you are so much better than everyone? You know, where I'm from, we weren't very fond of your city. It's too shiny and artificial, like a gilded cage over a silk rose. Nothing about you or your town is real so why do you think it gives you the right to dump on people who live actual lives? Who have to struggle day to day just to make ends meet when all you have to do is wake up in the morning?"

Justy blinked in confusion, though his fear didn't abate. "Artificial"? But... how? Their water was real-- it was from the aquifer that ran underneath the town. The marble was real. The white limestone was real. The people were real. He was real... What wasn't real?

"Just....just go...please Justy. I'm better off alone." The taller man stared down at the other, unsure of what to do. Leaving Dean in such an obviously bad state didn't sit well with him, even if Dean had just punched him. "Go back to the others, they can help you, not me. I couldn't even help my pokemon when they needed me most, I wouldn't be of any use to you." Dean looked up at him, then, his eyes glistening with an anguish Justy had never seen up close before. Not like this. "I can't fail anyone else if I'm alone."

Immediately, Justy acted on his first instinct: his arms outstretched and grasped the smaller man in a fierce hug. The poor man. This Epidemic did cruel, terrible things to everyone... even twisted them in its jaws and spat them back out. He hadn't wanted to make Dean cry or be this upset, but he did know he wanted to help. He knew he wasn't terribly good at consoling other people, but... he had to try, right?

"That's... true..." he admitted carefully. "But... you can't help anyone else, either. People that... that might not make it without you."

Colm didn't miss the well concealed snort that was Wes's reaction to Colm's fake name, and knowing the soldier, Colm had a feeling it was some sort of inappropriate joke. Thankfully Wes didn't say anything aloud and listened to the others give their names before greeting them, "Good to meet all of you. I haven't run across many other humans that weren't, you know, douchebags. Nice to have a change of pace. Well, we don't have much farther to go. My place is... oh, intact!" Wes pointed towards a specific building that Colm couldn't help but wonder if it had even changed that much during the apocalypse. Pyrite did have a reputation for not being the most well kept of towns. Wes was obviously happy as he teased his Espeon, "I bet there's still floors, Whiskey."

Soon the group walked straight through the doors that were barely hanging onto their hinges, and the reception area was, of course, messy. There was the expected blood splattered occasionally, and Colm had a brief moment of realization that that didn't bother him nearly as much as it once had. Hudson huddled a little closer to him; the Minccino obviously not liking the smell. Wes looked towards Athena and Cosette and asked, "Can either of you lovely Gardevoir sense anything? I heard your evolutionary line can sense Undead and Infected." Ever since they had made it to the town, they had noticed that there was a distinct lack of undead, and since they had met the people who had been living there, it was more than likely that Dean and Phoenix had been purging the town of the undead. Athena gave a negative response, further confirming Colm's theory.

Watson's ears were perked as he listened for any out of place sounds, but the Raichu's concentration shattered when he glanced over Midori. The Altaria had been standing close to Wes and Whiskey ever since they entered, but her eyes were locked onto a particularly large blood splatter on the wall near them. The look on her face greatly worried Watson, and he quietly got closer to the Altaria and asked, "Midori?"

She jumped in surprise before trying to stammer out, "Y-Yes?" She looked like she was going to be sick, and she couldn't meet Watson's gaze for long. Her eyes kept sliding back to the blood on the wall.

He had an idea as to what was bothering her so greatly, but there was no need to bring it up right now. Instead, he asked, "Why don't you take a break?"

She glanced towards Wes, and there was obvious conflict as she tried to make up her mind. Unfortunately, her eyes still ended up back at the blood splatter, and her thoughts scattered, "U-um... Uh-h... I..." Colm had caught on to what was going on, and when she couldn't formulate a complete sentence much less a thought, he quickly walked over to her and knelt down. He placed Hudson on the ground again, and Wiggins jumped off his shoulder. The cat immediately started rubbing against her legs like he did earlier, and after a few seconds, jumped on her back, laid his head against hers and started purring loudly. The sound seemed to bring her back to reality, and she finally closed her eyes and leaned into the contact.

Colm gently started tugging the Altaria away from the blood, and she followed on unsteady feet. "Don't look at it, okay? You're safe. I'm here. Wes is here." So intense had been his focus on Midori, when he finally looked at the rest of the group, he suddenly realized that they, especially Wes, might want an explanation. "I... We... can explain later... After we've settled down."

((Abysswalker informed me what Athena said and allowed me to write it.))

Wes's teasing of his Espeon made her smile, and his joy at seeing his old apartment building made her smile more.  Yes, it looked like nothing any human being would live in if she were the god of this world... but Wes felt like he'd come home, and she wasn't going to ruin that with the observation that it probably didn't look much different on the outside than it had from before the apocalypse.

"Can either of you lovely Gardevoir sense anything? I heard your evolutionary line can sense Undead and Infected."  Cosette shakes her head as Athena confirms she can't sense anything.  Diantha breathes a mental sigh of relief.  The apartment lobby is... unnerving, with its bloodstains and loose papers fluttering.  Knowing there's nothing actually dangerous around is comforting.  

Unfortunately, the news does not comfort everyone.  Cosette and Watson are the first to notice, the mouse's quiet call for Midori's attention and Cosette's nodding of her head at the duo drawing Diantha's attention as well.

"Midori?"

The poor dear jumps in fright. "Y-Yes?"

Her gaze keeps returning to the blood.  That is a terrible, terrible sign...

"Why don't you take a break?"

"U-um... Uh-h... I..."  Though her thoughts remained scattered without help, Colm is quick to spot the trouble and bring the rest of his Pokemon over to assist, tugging the Altaria away once his friends succeed in soothing her a little.

"Don't look at it, okay? You're safe. I'm here. Wes is here." As his gaze flits back to them, he seems to recall he's not alone. "I... We... can explain later... After we've settled down."

What could she say?  It's not her place to know, really.  Even Wes doesn't have a right to the information-- it is Midori's alone to share.  However, having been Wes's Pokemon, the dragon probably wants to assure Wes it was nothing Colm did, and if they want, she will vacate the room to give them privacy.

It's such a weird thing in this new world, with there always being either too much privacy or not enough.  She refuses to make this situation harder by making the opportunities for the right amount of privacy smaller if she can help it.

As he was enveloped in the unwanted hug Dean's first instinct was to shove Justy off of him, but as his hands reached up to brace against the other man's chest his wounded heart won over his mind and he began to melt into the embrace. His forehead fell forward to Justy's shoulder, falling short due to their height difference and leaving him pillowed in the soft spot between the other man's collarbone and shoulder. "That's... true... But... you can't help anyone else, either. People that... that might not make it without you."

Dean's hands clenched into Justy's shirt as the others words finally broke him into a mess of tears, unable to reply other than the occasional sob. He had been isolated for so long that he forgot what the touch of another human could be, how comforting it was to be simply held. He had convinced himself that all he needed was the warmth and love of his pokemon but all it took was one example of human contact to show him how wrong he had been. Again. But then again, at what point since his encounter with Cipher had he ever been right?

It took him a while to calm down and he was sure that the other man would have gotten sick of his theatrics by now, but Justy never let go. As his crying lessened Dean turned his head to the side and stared at his own hands twisted up in the others clothing, a thread of guilt creeping up that he may have overstretched and ruined the relatively nice fabric. As his gaze lingered on his own hands he couldn't help but notice the red and almost blue hue his knuckles were beginning to take on and he was reminded that just only a few moments ago he had decked the person currently comforting him.

"I'm sorry," he said weakly, sniffling a bit as he pulled away. "I didn't mean to hit you. I just...I don't know what came over me. I really didn't mean it." He broke free of Justy's grasp and wrapped his own arms around his middle, looking at the ground in embarrassment. He was quiet for a bit before looking up and giving the other man a pathetic, apologetic smile. "Come on, I think I have another shirt you can change in to back at my place. I uh, I may have overworked yours a bit."

Wes breathed a sigh of relief as the Gardevoir all respond in the negative: the building was clean. However, as he began to move forward, one of Detective Calm's pokemon spoke, causing Wes to stop in his tracks once more. "Midori?"

He turned to see his poor Altaria jump, startled by her name. She'd always been a little jumpy, but... Concern filled him as he watched her gather herself to respond. "Y-Yes?"

Her gaze trailed back down, to a large dried pool of blood that happened to be near her foot. He didn't really recall her being squeamish... He looked to Whiskey, who seemed to be of the same mindset. "Why don't you take a break?"

"U-um... Uh-h... I..." Instead of recalling her directly, however, the Detective's other pokemon aided Midori forward, past the blood. What the hell had happened to his sweet cloud dragon in the time they'd been apart...?

"Don't look at it, okay? You're safe. I'm here. Wes is here." At his name, Wes gave a little wave and offered her a sweet smile, hoping it would at least help her get through... whatever was happening. "I... We... can explain later... After we've settled down."

Wes nodded and pushed his bike forward. "No problem. I think we've all earned a nice evening, yeah? Get up to the ol' apartment, crank open some water bottles and some military rations and just have a party." He laughed a bit at the ridiculous image, but hey-- these people likely hadn't cut back in so long, merely suggesting a laid back atmosphere might be enough to do it on its own. In his experience, that could be just as intoxicating as alcohol. Sometimes.

He flipped the bike upward a bit, so that it could go up the stairs a little better and continued on. "Now, I don't mean to brag," he began, his tone nothing but silly. "But I had one of the sweetest places in the whole town. We're talking the mansion of Pyrite. I understand that the Epidemic might have been a little hard on it, but hey, I don't think any amount of apocalypse could get this place down. What you are looking at, my fine friends, is the pinnacle of Pyrician comfort."

They reached the second floor and he suddenly began to direct the group's attention as if he were a tour guide, adopting a very silly Kalosian accent quite suddenly. "See 'ere ze fine use of dirty wallpeper-- local artists 'ave taken in various different patterns and styles and blanketed zem all toge-zer in a perfect collage. In order to tie in some of ze more contrasting pieces, we see various genitalia of various sizes. Very modern portrayals, as you'll see, dating ze art in the early 'shit sipper' era."

He rounded a corner, gesturing to the ceiling. "I now direct your attention upwards, where you'll see ze fine fixtures 'and-crafted by the local drug dens, 'oo were just as eager to donate zeir goods as zey were to steal zem... immediately back." He then came to a stop at one particular door, pushing it open.

"I now bid you welcome to... ze Penthouse."

Of course, it wasn't a penthouse. It was a modest apartment, obviously broken into already, likely by Dean and his ninetales. Still, Wes maneuvered his bike in, leaning it against the wall and surveyed the place. It didn't look like anyone had gotten murdered in there, so that was a plus. However, all his furnishings were either gone or torn open. Someone likely looking for loot. "So, what do y'all think?" he asked, his trademark grin still on full. "I don't often allow myself to live so extravagantly, but I do have to say that I think we've earned the right to a little pampering, right, Whiskey? Floors, doors, half of a couch and most of a few chairs? We may as well be royalty up here."

He gestured to the furniture, looking to the others. "Please, go on, sit. Make yourselves comfy. Let's all relax and have a nice supper, yeah? Oh, Whiskey, your bed's still intact!" He pulled a strangely shaped cushion and tossed it on the top of the couch, where the Espeon immediately went to settle.

---

It took a while, but eventually Dean calmed. Though he hadn't really appreciated being slugged, Justy was glad to see that he was finally doing something right. There was also the fact that Dean's arms were so tightly wound around him, Justy thought he might have some trouble breathing. "I'm sorry," Dean began as he pulled out of the embrace. Justy's ribs appreciated the relief, though the man himself was sad that it was already over. "I didn't mean to hit you. I just...I don't know what came over me. I really didn't mean it." Before Justy realized it, Dean wrapped his own pale arms around himself. Was he nervous? Dean looked up, sheepish, and added, "Come on, I think I have another shirt you can change in to back at my place. I uh, I may have overworked yours a bit."

The idea of wearing clothes that already seemed a bit too small on Dean caused Justy to blush a bit, but he wasn't one to refuse hospitality. Maybe... Dean would like that? Wait, why did that matter? He nodded, brushing the more... intimate thoughts aside before he returned Dean's smile with his own. "Sure. It... probably needed to be washed anyway." He gave a light shrug and sheepishly scratched the back of his neck. "Don't worry about it."

It comes as no surprise to Matt when Athena affirms that there are no undead skulking about. He couldn't imagine the Ninetales letting her "territory" go unchecked for very long, and besides, Athena would have brought up sensing any zombies way before being asked. It's kind of her thing, not letting people waltz right into danger. He gives the Gardevoir a pat on the shoulder, a silent thank-you. She smiled at him, but Matt could see tension there; Athena hadn't taken her eyes off of the bloodstains around them. After everything they'd gone through in the past years, he couldn't blame her. If only there was some way for them to know that his siblings were okay...and his other Pokemon as well. Mei, Falon'Din, Syrene, all of them were out there somewhere. Though Matt was uncertain of whether sending them off had really been the best choice to make, he and Athena both understood that they can't let hesitation overcome them. The decision was made, and there's no changing it now.

"Midori?" Another voice-one of Bishop's Pokemon-allows them both to draw focus away from their missing family. Matt can't really count it as a good thing, though; the Altaria in question is staring at the dried blood, and the look on her face can't be described as pleasant. Whatever Midori had gone through, it must have been some rough shit. Bishop and his other Pokemon have comforting the dragon covered, and Matt sticks to his usual thing-staying out of it completely. This isn't his Pokemon, and he'd never been good at the whole "dealing with emotional problems" shtick anyways. Maybe "not my problem" is a little too harsh for this situation, but still, it applies.

Bishops seems to realize that everyone else there-except probably Wes-doesn't know Midori well enough to really "get" her reaction. "I... We... can explain later... After we've settled down." Fair enough. Matt didn't really feel like hanging out in this creepy place anyways, and it'd be better to get the Altaria away from what was freaking her out before explaining.

"No problem. I think we've all earned a nice evening, yeah? Get up to the ol' apartment, crank open some water bottles and some military rations and just have a party." A party, huh? Matt had never been the partying type, but he can't say no to the idea of being able to chill out and not be surrounded by either crazy, drama, or both. Though if they did end up talking about that Altaria, it probably wouldn't be the most "party" worthy subject...ah, whatever. Just give him a couch to kick his feet up on and a drink, and he'll be fine. Fucking fantastic. Everyone else could be talking about nihilism and inevitable death, or whatever, and he'd be completely okay with it. Though it sucks to admit it, the desert heat is seriously starting to get to him, and having a place indoors sounds more awesome by the second.

"Now, I don't mean to brag, but I had one of the sweetest places in the whole town. We're talking the mansion of Pyrite. I understand that the Epidemic might have been a little hard on it, but hey, I don't think any amount of apocalypse could get this place down. What you are looking at, my fine friends, is the pinnacle of Pyrician comfort." The very first thing that pops into his head is a single word-Doubt. This place still seriously looks like it's been trampled over by a platoon of colossal...fuckbots. Yeah. Fuckbots. Fuckbots that weren't even built to code, no less. ...Admittedly, that might be pretty damn well-off for a town like this; it's certainly no Nimbasa. Maybe they could turn the place into a hotel and begin advertising? The first three survivors to show up and check in get a room with a floor at no extra cost! Upgrade to premium to not get dysentery as fast! Great, now Athena is starting to give him disapproving looks again, but he's still shameless enough to find his own jokes to be funny.

"See 'ere ze fine use of dirty wallpeper-- local artists 'ave taken in various different patterns and styles and blanketed zem all toge-zer in a perfect collage. In order to tie in some of ze more contrasting pieces, we see various genitalia of various sizes. Very modern portrayals, as you'll see, dating ze art in the early 'shit sipper' era." Matt snickers at the horrid accent; it's way better than his own. Nothing was more hilarious than purposedly failing to pronounce French in an exaggerated accent just to hear Chris, in the most offended manner possible, exclaim "French doesn't sound like that!" "I now direct your attention upwards, where you'll see ze fine fixtures 'and-crafted by the local drug dens, 'oo were just as eager to donate zeir goods as zey were to steal zem... immediately back." Now that's classy. Matt really could appreciate the thoughtful touches made to the place by considerate dealers; may they rest in peace...not.

At last, they are introduced to the long-anticipated "Penthouse", which was...a pretty average apartment, actually. Not too bad, not too good. At the very least, there's no dead bodies to drag outside. Always a good thing, right? "So, what do y'all think? I don't often allow myself to live so extravagantly, but I do have to say that I think we've earned the right to a little pampering, right, Whiskey? Floors, doors, half of a couch and most of a few chairs? We may as well be royalty up here." Matt surveyed the apartment quickly, and true to the guy's word, there really wasn't much to it. Hell of a lot better than being out in the desert, though, and he isn't complaining. A roof over his head, no holes in the floor, no trekking through annoyingly gritty sand...paradise. Well, not exactly, as it had the distinct disadvantage of not being located in Hoenn.

"Please, go on, sit. Make yourselves comfy. Let's all relax and have a nice supper, yeah? Oh, Whiskey, your bed's still intact!"

"Don't mind if I do," Matt says, taking a chair and setting one foot on his knee. Hey, if the host wants them to relax, who's he to say otherwise?

Wes gave the nervous Altaria a friendly smile, which seemed to help her calm down. With a casual air, he then said, "No problem. I think we've all earned a nice evening, yeah? Get up to the ol' apartment, crank open some water bottles and some military rations and just have a party." Of course... Colm honestly didn't expect anything else, but he could see what Wes was doing. Lightening the atmosphere. Colm couldn't help grinning at the almost absurd suggestion, and he followed Wes as he guided them through the apartment complex. When Wes took on a very thick very fake Kalosian accent, Colm wondered if he realized that he had two Kalos natives right there. Probably not, but that wouldn't have stopped him anyway. He didn't think much of it beyond that, however, for the intention was to lighten the mood, and it was an intentionally bad accent. Midori visibly calmed down as Wes kept talking and making jokes about Pyrite and the... improvised decor, and it definitely helped that they were no longer near the large bloodstains.

Finally, they reached their destination with Wes blowing the aparment's "charm" out of proportion. After they took a few steps inside, Wes asked, "So, what do y'all think? I don't often allow myself to live so extravagantly, but I do have to say that I think we've earned the right to a little pampering, right, Whiskey? Floors, doors, half of a couch and most of a few chairs? We may as well be royalty up here." the apartment had obviously been looted, but all things considered, it wasn't too shabby. It probably looked better than his old place. After a second, Wes went full host and gestured at the different chairs, "Please, go on, sit. Make yourselves comfy. Let's all relax and have a nice supper, yeah? Oh, Whiskey, your bed's still intact!" The last statement was followed with the soldier throwing a strange cushion onto the couch, and the Espeon quickly took his spot.

Matt immediately took a seat and responded,  "Don't mind if I do."

At the sight of the familiar room, Midori's earlier panic appeared to have completely disappeared, and the Altaria was looking at the old room nostalgically. She had a sudden urge to start dusting the place down so that it would be more presentable, but it had been a long day, and Wes' casual attitude was winning over her lazy side. She had a faint smile on her beak as she continued relishing in knowing that Wes was safe and alive, and so was Whiskey. She vaguely wondered where Rum was since both eeveelutions were usually out, but for the moment, she figured that Rum was probably tired.

Colm was relieved to see the Altaria doing a lot better, and with that, he looked around and hoped his Pokemon weren't taking up too much room. He didn't want to cut Midori's reuninion short or anything, and Watson would have an aneurysm if he recalled the Raichu. Maybe after he fed Wiggins and Hudson, he'd recall those two. Colm took one of the chairs near the couch and lifted his bag off his shoulder to settle it on the floor where Watson sat and guarded it. Wiggins looked like he wanted to sniff around the unfamiliar apartment, but Colm kept his finger looped through the cat's collar to prevent that. The Purrloin sent him a pointed glare, but didn't try to struggle in front of the others. Hudson took a place next to the much larger Raichu. Midori hopped up onto the couch to sit next to Whiskey where she huddled down like a huge ball of fluff before commenting, "Sorry about all the dust, I can guarantee none of us," she waved a cloudy wing towards Whiskey and Wes, "were expecting company."

Colm smiled at the Altaria's lighthearted attempt at humor, and teased back, "Oh no. I demand a refund. Floors and walls are pointless if there's dust everywhere." He put his free hand to his chest in feigned horror. Midori rolled her eyes at the sarcastic performance, but she was still amused.

"Now, I don't mean to brag," Wes starts, Diantha smirking at his tone of voice.  This should be good.  "But I had one of the sweetest places in the whole town. We're talking the mansion of Pyrite. I understand that the Epidemic might have been a little hard on it, but hey, I don't think any amount of apocalypse could get this place down. What you are looking at, my fine friends, is the pinnacle of Pyrician comfort."

The pinnacle, huh?  Oh yes.  This will be very good.  And as they reach the second floor, Wes does not disappoint. "See 'ere ze fine use of dirty wallpeper-- local artists 'ave taken in various different patterns and styles and blanketed zem all toge-zer in a perfect collage. In order to tie in some of ze more contrasting pieces, we see various genitalia of various sizes. Very modern portrayals, as you'll see, dating ze art in the early 'shit sipper' era."

Oh god.  She can't help but giggle now, the laughter bubbling out.  Cosette is snickering.  "I now direct your attention upwards, where you'll see ze fine fixtures 'and-crafted by the local drug dens, 'oo were just as eager to donate zeir goods as zey were to steal zem... immediately back."

He halts and sweeps a door open.

"I now bid you welcome to... ze Penthouse."

A normal apartment, if not rather beat up, which... is standard for the times they live in.  Despite someone clearly sacking the place, it looks to be in decent shape; no bloodstains, no bodies, no severe damage.  "So, what do y'all think? I don't often allow myself to live so extravagantly, but I do have to say that I think we've earned the right to a little pampering, right, Whiskey? Floors, doors, half of a couch and most of a few chairs? We may as well be royalty up here."

The sad thing is, he's not exactly wrong.

"Please, go on, sit. Make yourselves comfy. Let's all relax and have a nice supper, yeah? Oh, Whiskey, your bed's still intact!"

Matt is happy to take the invitation as the Espeon moves to reclaim his cushion. "Don't mind if I do."

Wes's warmth and good nature is contagious.  Diantha sits as well with a smile, redirecting her attention to the Altaria.  Ah, good, she seems much better.

Colm grasps his kitten by the collar as Midori settles next to Whiskey, gesturing at the apartment. "Sorry about all the dust, I can guarantee none of us were expecting company."

"Oh no. I demand a refund. Floors and walls are pointless if there's dust everywhere."

The look Midori gives him makes her grin.  This will be too easy.  "Oh yes, the dust monsters will get us.  Whatever shall we do?"

Cosette puts a fist to her chest.  "Don't worry my lady; I shall protect us, as terrifying as it will be.  For I have braved many a dust monster, lint goblin, and mold giant. "

"Sure. It... probably needed to be washed anyway." Dean felt a wave of relief ease the nervous tension in his body at the sight of Justy's awkward smile. It was nice to think the other man wouldn't judge him for his emotional outburst. Or for punching him. "Don't worry about it." With a posture like that one would almost assume Justy was as nervous as he was.

"Come on you two, it's not far," Dean said, a light blush still across his cheeks from the previous embarrassment of sobbing all over his companion. They walked in easy silence, neither really needing to say anymore about the outburst or what had caused it. Seeing Justy this way was much preferred for Dean as the purple haired male seemed almost approachable now rather than sitting high upon his marble pedestal. He was more human. And despite his usual distaste for the company of humans the quiet one were usually easy to get along with.

They reached a small house near the north end of town, near the windmill Phoenix had first met Asche and at the edge of the canyon that had swallowed the Colosseum, and Dean brought Justy around the back of it. There, hidden beneath a carefully constructed pile of debris, was a hidden doorway whose lock opened quickly beneath Dean's nimble fingers. "We completely barricaded the inside of the house," he explained, sure that the odd entrance would gain a question or two from the talkative male behind him. "So this is the only way inside. It locks from the inside so unless you have the key, or know the latch mechanism, you can't open it. The door will lock behind us as soon as I close it so be careful, it's a bit dark at the beginning."

Pulling the door open he led Justy inside, waiting for Asche to join before gently lowering the door behind them and smiling to himself when he heard the latch strike firmly into place. He turned back into the dark basement and let his eyes adjust a moment before sliding past Justy to lead the way. "Phoenix usually guides the path for us but I know it well enough without her, but just in case..." he reached out and gently grasped Justy's hand to guide him forward. "I am not strong enough to carry you if you trip and hit your head on something," he finished with a laugh.

It only took a minute to get through the long basement, moving to avoid shelves and the occasional box, and at the end was a small set of wooden stairs with a doorway at the top that Dean pushed open to reveal the modest abode inside. "Make yourself at home while I run upstairs and check on that shirt. I'll be right back." Leaving Justy to his own devices he all but ran up the stairs to start digging through dressers and closets to find something that might fit his companion. He didn't return for several minutes but eventually he came back down and found Justy, a light blue button up in his hand. "It's a bit big, but it should work. I can clean up your other one if you like too. Though, before I do anything else, I should probably let out a very angry Ninetales and explain that you are staying here tonight."

To give Justy a little space and privacy Dean exited to the next room and pulled out Phoenix's ball, the black and red orb gleaming even in the dim light. "Here goes nothing," he said aloud, mostly to give himself some courage against what he knew would be a difficult conversation. He tossed the ball up and summoned the yellow fox, still hissing angrily when her form materialized before him. "What the fuck was that Dean?" she hissed angrily before two familiar scents caught her attention. "And why the fuck is that moron here?!"

Oh God how great it felt to be back in the proper scorching heat of the desert! How long did he spend cooped up in that blasted lab? Two, three years? All the while toiling on that great useless thing, which even if he could get power to it was too battered  from time and battle to actually even be functional again? But if his father built it, with the Professor of course, he was sure he could get it running again. Damn it if he could though. So now he was forced to find other means to purify the ailing Legend before he fell to the wicked deeds of a sour man upon his throne of metal and bone, shielded behind his wall of storms. No doubt Lugia's power was bringing a resurgence to their power as well. Bastard.

As Zephyr's heavy wing beats echoed like drums in his ears, the wind rushing by in a steady, rhythmic stream, Michael's thoughts began to drift to a similar sound. The sound of Zephyr's wings began to morph and shift into the sound of rolling waves crashing ashore, the wind the sound of a hurricane raging just out of reach, even the sand scratching against his cheeks and hair became sharp rain until his mind could only see the past ahead and no longer his destination.

The Infernium beneath his seat could feel the strange change in his rider, the way his hands went slack on the reigns and his legs no longer pinched together to keep him astride. he felt Michael began to slip and whinnied loudly, arching his neck to push back against his trainer to bring his attention back to the swirling desert a hundred feet below him. Michael gasped loudly and scrambled to regain his posture, pulling a bit too hard on Zephyr's reigns and causing the poor stallion's neck to rear back too far knocking Michael in the teeth.

The red head bit his tongue violently at the impact and blood began to spill over his lip and onto the creamy pale coat of his companion, shaking his head as his vision doubled. This gave Zephyr worry and he slowly began to descend to a safer altitude in case Michael could no longer hold his grip. "I'm sorry buddy," Michael sounded out through slack lip, trying not to dribble blood as he tilted his head back. "Got a bit careless." The Infernium smiled at his trainer's kind heart once again putting others above his own welfare and gave an accepting shake of his head.

As they peered into the distance their destination soon began to make itself known, Pyrite Town. The sight of it had Zephyr's speed increasing incrementally until he was near a blur to anyone watching from the ground. The object of their pursuit had to be there, it just had to. For Lugia needed to be purified and there in that town of forgotten souls once resided the only other person in the world to ever purify a Shadow. Wes.

Wes' grin didn't falter as his guests moved to settle in, the anxiety and tension from the earlier confrontation with Dean all melted away. "Don't mind if I do." Matt lounged on the couch and Midori immediately began to fuss over the state of the apartment.

"Sorry about all the dust, I can guarantee none of us were expecting company." Whiskey and Wes shared a fond smile, the others quickly tossing out their gentle jibes.

"Oh no. I demand a refund. Floors and walls are pointless if there's dust everywhere."

"Oh yes, the dust monsters will get us. Whatever shall we do?"

"Don't worry my lady; I shall protect us, as terrifying as it will be. For I have braved many a dust monster, lint goblin, and mold giant."

Wes tossed out bottled water to each person and pokemon capable of holding their own, giving Midori a loving pat on the head. "It's getting late and I'm sure we've all had a trying day. Once we eat, we should probably try and find some sleeping arrangements, yeah? My bed should fit two or three, if we get real close and comfy." He chuckled at the idea. "If not, I'm sure there're some mattresses we can pilfer from the other rooms. Put them here and in the kitchen and stuff." He passed out the rations afterward, then settled on a chair.

"In the meantime, y'all wanna chat? Pretend these are beers and have fun?" He gave a warm chuckle and looked to the window and fading light. "It's been a while since I was around friendly faces."

---

Justy smiled at the small blush that crept along Dean's face, brushing some of his own purple hair behind an ear. "Come on you two, it's not far." Asche bounded excitedly after him, Justy bringing up the rear. It was an easy walk, filled with companionable silence as they reached their destination. For Justy, his mind wandered in the strange empty tranquility the town emitted and lingered on the man in front of him. He had known the man for the better part of an afternoon, even pissed him off to the point of blows and yet...

Dean expertly led them through the alleys and roads to their destination-- an odd, half-collapsed house. Dean's thin, elegant fingers worked knowingly at some sort of mechanism that escaped Justy's knowledge. "We completely barricaded the inside of the house," the blond began, earning Justy's interest and quiet attention. "So this is the only way inside. It locks from the inside so unless you have the key, or know the latch mechanism, you can't open it. The door will lock behind us as soon as I close it so be careful, it's a bit dark at the beginning."

Asche bounded into the darkness, his eyes almost rejoicing at the relief. Even with the goggles, nothing beat the true blanket of shadow in which he'd become so acclimated. Justy on the other hand moved carefully down the unknown terrain, not wanting to fall and knock into Dean. "Phoenix usually guides the path for us but I know it well enough without her, but just in case..." Justy thanked whatever gods were left; Dean reached back and gently grasped his own tan hand and Justy felt heat blossom in his torso and face. Oh... Oh what did he do now? "I am not strong enough to carry you if you trip and hit your head on something." Dean laughed, which Justy could only nervously join.

Though the basement could have only been so large, it felt like an eternity. Justy wasn't usually an anxious man, but... holding Dean's hand like this... Oh, how he hoped his palms weren't sweating. Were they sweating? Oh, they really might be sweating... After eons of torment, Dean finally let go and opened another door, revealing a small, modest home. "Make yourself at home while I run upstairs and check on that shirt. I'll be right back."

Dean dashed away up some stairs, leaving Asche and Justy alone together. The strange pokemon's tail wagged a bit-- a dangerous movement with such a weapon. Still, Justy felt the need to oblige Dean's instructions and took a seat at the edge of a couch, ready to stand at a moment's notice. Asche turned back to Justy and quirked his head. "You're all red."

His heart may have well stopped. Such a blunt observation somehow made his blush even worse to have, even if it was a bit of shy redness. "I-o-oh.. Uh... It's... just hot, is all."

Hoping that was enough to sate the creature's curiosity, Justy heaved a sigh of relief as Dean's rapid footsteps down the echoing stair signaled his return. Safe from more probes, he gave his host a polite smile and folded his hands on his lap. "It's a bit big, but it should work. I can clean up your other one if you like too. Though, before I do anything else, I should probably let out a very angry Ninetales and explain that you are staying here tonight."

He gave a worried nod, unsure of how such a tempermental pokemon would take the news. Asche bounded after him, poking his head into the doorway in which Dean had disappeared into as Justy took the opportunity to change. The new shirt was a nice shirt, especially in the apocalypse, but a large on Dean was still a tad tight for Justy's taller, broader form. Fussing over the line of tanned midriff, he jumped as the Ninetales' bellow cut through the silence like her numerous lethal fangs. "What the fuck was that Dean? And why the fuck is that moron here?!"

"Phoe, that hurts," Asche pouted in the doorway, Justy's goggles still on his face and making him look more ridiculous than he already managed. "Don't call me names!"

The Altaria seems to have settled down well enough, becoming a ball of fluff next to her Espeon buddy. "Sorry about all the dust, I can guarantee none of us were expecting company." Well, it is an apocalypse-why apologize for the dust? He'd take dust over sand any day of the week, and having a roof over his head is enough to make up for the dust bunny population. Her new trainer-or maybe "human companion" is more accurate, he doesn't know-gives a response that gets a short chuckle out of Matt.

"Oh no. I demand a refund. Floors and walls are pointless if there's dust everywhere." Midori's subsequent eyeroll is eerily reminiscient of Rose's own. If she suddenly starts giving out sarcastic one-word responses, then Matt is going to run the other direction screaming. Dealing with not one, but two versions of his sister? The horror.

"Oh yes, the dust monsters will get us. Whatever shall we do?"

"Don't worry my lady; I shall protect us, as terrifying as it will be. For I have braved many a dust monster, lint goblin, and mold giant."

Spurned on by the others, Matt pretends to survey the apartment, shaking his head in mock disapproval. No, dust bunnies would never do, not when such fancy connoisseurs such as Athena and himself were here. Turning to his Gardevoir, he says, "Hey, Athena, they're right. It is dusty. Should we sue?"

She pauses, putting on her best "mulling over your suggestion" expression. Bless the Gardevoir for going along with his stupid jokes, despite judging him constantly whenever they were out among the zombies and desert heat. If they are ever in another city again, he'd have to remember to try and find her an apple juice box. "Okay, but sue for what? The floor?"

"Maybe." The joke now seemingly over, both of them catch the water bottles tossed at them by Wes; at this point, Matt could claim an entire lake for himself and still be ready to complain about dehydration afterwards. This alone made staying in this town for a little bit longer entirely worth it.

"It's getting late and I'm sure we've all had a trying day. Once we eat, we should probably try and find some sleeping arrangements, yeah? My bed should fit two or three, if we get real close and comfy." Matt raises an eyebrow-uh, thanks, but no thanks. That sounded like a little too much hospitality. "If not, I'm sure there're some mattresses we can pilfer from the other rooms. Put them here and in the kitchen and stuff." Well, it looks like he'll be going mattress-shopping soon then. Athena hates being stuck in her Pokeball during the nighttime, so they'd have to grab one for her as well. Hopefully the ones in the other rooms didn't have like...dead bodies on them. As much as Matt likes having something other than "ground" to sleep on, he also really likes not smelling like dead people. Shame that bedbugs were probably inevitable, though. However, bedbugs are but a small price to pay in the face of having something to eat. Yep, definitely worth it.

"In the meantime, y'all wanna chat? Pretend these are beers and have fun? It's been a while since I was around friendly faces."

"That sounds lovely," Athena replies, surprising Matt-she usually isn't one to engage in conversation, especially not with this many people around. It must be the relaxed atmosphere bringing this out; they haven't seen this many people converged in one place since...well, since before the whole "end of the world" thing. Obviously. He really doesn't like that look she's giving him, though-it's too smug. What is she planning? "As my wonderful trainer knows, I have no end of embarrassing tales to share."

Colm's smile got bigger as the rest of the room jumped in on the teasing; it was nice to be in pleasant company again. That didn't mean he had to completely let his guard down, but the people here appeared nice. The look that Midori ended up giving the whole room by the end made Colm laugh really loudly which caused her to focus on him. With a cheeky smile, he simply said, "Love you too," and reached over to pat her head. She swatted his hand away with a cloudy wing and a barely concealed smile. The timid Altaria from earlier was almost completely gone, and Colm and his other Pokemon were happy to see the change. Friendly company and being around Wes were doing wonders for the Altaria. That also brought up a thing that Colm hadn't thought through yet; now that her old trainer was right there, would she want to stay with him? Colm had originally thought that the answer was easy, but traveling with the sweet Altaria had made his resolve waver. In the end, he knew it was her choice, but he wouldn't deny being sad to see Midori go. He figured that at least he had until he and Wes parted ways before she would leave. There was also the question of what in the world Wes was doing this far out of HQ, but again, he couldn't outright ask the soldier in front of people.

Any more melancholy wonderings were interrupted by Wes, "It's getting late and I'm sure we've all had a trying day. Once we eat, we should probably try and find some sleeping arrangements, yeah? My bed should fit two or three, if we get real close and comfy." He tossed some water bottles to the humans and Pokemon capable of holding them before giving Midori a loving pat. The Altaria nuzzled his hand lovingly. Colm rolled his eyes at the "close" sleeping arrangements idea; while sharing mattresses wasn't foreign to him, he typically didn't do so with people he barely knew. Thankfully, Wes was simply teasing and then suggested, "If not, I'm sure there're some mattresses we can pilfer from the other rooms. Put them here and in the kitchen and stuff." Next, he passed out some food for them to eat, and spoke up conversationally, "In the meantime, y'all wanna chat? Pretend these are beers and have fun? It's been a while since I was around friendly faces." Yeah... he couldn't blame Wes for that; even the detective had felt the isolation that wandering the apocalypse inflicted. It also brought up the question of how long Wes had been away from HQ if he was being honest about that.

The Gardevoir, Athena, already had plans as she spoke up, "That sounds lovely. As my wonderful trainer knows, I have no end of embarrassing tales to share." Colm recognized the smug look she was giving her trainer, and he glanced down at the cat in his lap to see Wiggins giving him the same look. Uh oh. He should have figured that the Purrloin would find a way to get back at him, but he wasn't sure which story the cat would tell. He gave the cat a hard look to spell out, Don't tell them I used to be a cop, but the cat refused to relent. Watson and Hudson were sharing a bottle of water since they were so small, and Watson then nudged Colm's hand to get Colm's bottle. The Raichu opened the bottle for him since the detective had apparently forgotten in his batle of wills and glared at the human until he took a few sips.

In an amusing turn of events, it wasn't Wiggins who decided to sell out the embarrassing tales. Watson's semi-serious demeanor belied his humor, and it was easy to forget that the Raichu used to be a troublemaker. The teasing smile the Raichu had should have warned him, "Oh?" Watson gave Athena his attention before adding with a huge grin, "I bet we all have some great stories on our brilliant trainers." The "brilliant" was accentuated by a glance in Colm's direction.

Never one to go down without a fight, Colm dramatically put his hand to his heart and said, "You wound me."