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Private/Closed Uncharted Waters

Darkness.

She always came back to the darkness. The cold, yawning void where nothing existed. An airtight vacuum with no sound, no sight. A lucid dream. All her dreams were lucid, with a life that was so warped and corrupted, it became easier to tell the difference between what was real and what was not. What was memory, overlayed onto your very vision, sounds you’d heard before, playing again in your ears. Like a shadow that will never go away. A cloak that will always cover your eyes and ears. A black dog that followed faithfully, no matter where you went. But knowing did not stop those memories and sounds from affecting you, distracting you and catching your eyes with that flutter in the corner of your eyes. Those haunting cyan eyes opening before her, twice the size of her own body, engulfing her in its silvery-white mane. She would never forget that hellish encounter in The Grave. Reminding her that no good deed ever went unpunished.

No good deed ever went unpunished.

Cold, she felt cold. It was a feeling not too foreign, but it had been such a long time since she had felt that way again. She shouldn’t have expected anything better. With her luck, it was something that had quickly become a mundane discomfort. Like pins and needles, or leg cramps. She should have walked away. She should have learned her lesson and taken off as soon as the lights went out, and the glass window shattered around her. She’d go home, be called a witness and a survivor in the news coverage and she’d live on. She’d live. But Dante wouldn’t have. Would he? Just like Jacob wouldn’t have survived. Being in the place of someone else’s suffering, only to be discarded and forgotten, without thank you, without gratitude, at the end. Would Dante do that to her? Was she repeating the same mistakes twice? It had cost her so much the first time… What would happen to her now? What else did she stand to lose?

She knew there was only one answer left for that.

Oh well… It wasn’t as if it really mattered. Dante still ended up dead, and it wouldn’t have made any difference if she’d stayed or gone. Perhaps… He would have even fared better without her there. Did that mean his death was on her hands too? Considering her luck… It probably was. Dante E. Young. She hadn’t thought of that name in such a long time. When had she stopped? When had she stopped writing letters, sending postcards? When had she stopped following how far he’s flown out of reach? She didn’t know. There was so much of her past that she no longer remembered. There were so many memories she’d lost. And now… After just rediscovering one of them, she possibly lost him forever. Or perhaps, it would be him losing her forever. It still made her wonder; just how much she had meant to the people who knew her. How did they see her? To what lengths would they go for her, if at all? Would they mourn her if she were gone? Ha… She knew the answer to that too.

She only felt sorry that she dragged her Pokemon into this too.

It felt like a lifetime inside the void. But, eventually, she felt herself rousing. That feeling of awareness seeping in, the shallow darkness of your eyelids, the weight of your own body against the surface you lay on. And pain. Excruciating pain webbing through your body, grabbing your very brain with its claws, growing more intense the more alert you became. It was coming from her left arm. But more, there was this… Wave of something pulsing through her body, soothing the pain for a split second before it came back twice as hard. She opened her mouth, to try and let out a small sound, a cry of pain or a hiss, only to find fluid shooting out your windpipe, filling your mouth with the unmistakable taste of seawater. Cassie choked and gagged, her body convulsing as she coughed out every last drop. Her throat felt sore afterwards, but it was nothing compared to that pain in her arm.

She opened her eyes, and her blurry vision soon fixed upon two pairs of ruby eyes, standing out easily against the murky surroundings. She knew those eyes anywhere. “N…i..ne… Ry..u…” She croaked, barely able to breathe, but Nine wasted no time in pressing his head against her cheek, giving her a comforting nuzzle as he caressed her face with his soft fur and mane. He was so warm. Her entire body felt warm, in fact, despite the occasional breeze that made her skin go numb from its chill. She came to realize that familiar sensation, the plush, luxurious weight over her body. 9 milk white tails draped across her like a blanket, keeping her warm. “Bon garçon…” She murmured weakly, trying to lift her free arm, only to be reminded by the other.

She finally saw it.

From where Ryu knelt beside her – still dripping wet despite Nine’s dryness - his paws open over her shoulder. The burns, a webwork of raw flesh and char, like the scars that deformed her hands, brought back to life and growing, devouring every inch of her arm and the side of her neck. And her arm… Barely clinging to her shoulder by only bone and socket alone. She remained still. Breathing, watching the edges of her flesh slowly, gradually, creep closer to each other, realizing just what that strange wave she felt before was. Heal Pulse. “Bon garçon…” She repeated, closing her eyes as the pain surged through, as nerves and nociceptors were restored. More scars. More trauma etched permanently onto her body. She had enough scars, received enough looks from strangers who knew her by her scandal and tabloid stories. But really… She couldn’t really bring herself to care either. Perhaps, if she were younger, when life revolved more around her and everything went right, she would be hysterical, she would be doing whatever it took to heal it back to perfection while it was still fresh, but now… Now she just wanted to keep her arm. Well… She knew the drill. Moving her other limbs, the rest of her toes and fingers, making sure that everything else was intact and functional. Anything to distract herself, anything she could do. She felt the ground beneath her, the unmistakable texture of moss and rocks.

She opened her eyes, staring up to the gloomy, overcast skies, then to the side to finally take in her surroundings. A misty beach, from what she could see, with pebbles instead of sand and dark, foamy water. Large, dark trees lined the edges, like mourning giants overlooking the distant horizon. She breathed out, and her breath misted before her very eyes. And considering what she was wearing last… That wasn’t good. Hesitantly, she glanced back down to her shoulder, letting out a breath she did not realize she had been holding to find that she could no longer see bone or cartilage, nor muscle nor fat. Just red, raw, newly granulated flesh. She tried moving her fingers then, getting twitches and very faint movement, but she could feel the moss beneath them, and that was good enough for now. “That’s enough Ryu…” She said softly, noting the strain that was beginning to show on his face, though he stubbornly refused, shaking his head and continuing. “Ryu, arrêtez.” She said again, more firmly this time and the Lucario wavered, looking back at her with hesitation before he withdrew his paw, and the pulse ceased. “Thank you. You’ve done more than enough…” She looked at both of them.

Stranded, but at the very least… She wasn’t alone. She pulled both of them into a hug as best as she could. She could have killed them by staying, separating from them, but… She knew they wouldn’t have died. They were far too well-trained, far too resourceful and intelligent. They would have survived, no matter what. It was one of the first things she made sure all her Pokemon were able to do. And without them… Well, it’s quite obvious that she needed them more than they needed her. Her hand immediately went to her waist, where her belt sat and breathed out a sigh of relief to find that all her balls were still there. She was glad that she opted for those extra strength clips.

The burns were still fresh on her arm, but their ache was easy to ignore. It was something she had gone through before and it was something she can push through again. What mattered was that she would keep her arm, and for now, that was enough. She was very fortunate that her dress had so much excess fabric as it did, flowing down to her ankles when it was still a couture piece she’d managed to hold on to from the days before her downfall. But now, it would serve as a useful wound dressing, as she tore its fabric at her upper thigh level and shredded it down to ribbons with Ryu and Nine’s help. If Jade were here, healing would have been so much easier, what with the pastes and balms she could make from the Roserade’s nurturing blossoms or the dressings she could make with her vines and sprouts. C’est la vie. You worked with what you had.

She proceeded to wrap the entire length of her arm and shoulder with the cloth, making sure it was tight around her shoulder to ensure it was immobilized so it could heal properly, and then making a sling for her arm to rest in with Ryu’s help. Once she was taken care of – all other minor cuts and injuries long dealt with by the Heal Pulse – she released Ace, who was barely conscious upon exiting his ball. He crooned weakly at her, almost in distress as he moved his wings about, but Cassie moved in steadfastly and kept him still, touching him comfortingly and whispering words of reassurance as she eased him onto the ground, off the wing that had been struck by the Hyper Beam.

His feathers were singed with minor burns and the entire limb rested at an odd angle, just like she had seen moments before losing consciousness. Dislocated, she suspected. “Don’t worry, Ace… I’ve got you. Everything is going to be okay.” She murmured reassuringly, running her fingers down his neck over and over, letting him relax into her touch. She glanced back at Nine, who stood just behind her and gave him a nod. The vulpine, having seen the wing himself, knew exactly what had to be done, and approached the Swanna, laying down by his head and meeting his gaze. He gave him a subtle nod, and moments after, his eyes flashed scarlet, and Ace fell into a deep sleep.

“Ryu.” She called, and the Lucario was already moving, kneeling down beside her like clockwork as he placed his paw against Ace’s shoulder joint. Meanwhile, Cassie stood up, extending his wing just enough to realign the joints. “On the count of three. One… Two… Three!”

Pop!

Nine gave the slightest of flinches, but the joint was back in its socket. “Bon travail.” Cassie nodded, beginning to gently fold the wing back against Ace’s body, where Ryu held it in place, radiating another Heal Pulse to take care of the burns and injured ligament. Nine brought over the remaining cloth shreds and helped as Cassie prepared a splint from a piece of driftwood. It took another five minutes to secure Ace’s wing with the splint and wrap the entire thing, realizing they were short on dressing and Cassie tore off another inch or two off her dress. It wasn’t perfect. But for now… It would do. She gave him one last caress before returning him to his Pokeball where he could rest and recover. However… That also meant they were stranded there until he did.

Cassie let out a sigh, rising to her feet as Ryu kept her steady and shivered from the cold. Nine pressed himself close to her, nudging his nose against her leg and lowering himself to the ground. She smiled appreciatively, climbing onto his back and sighing in relief as his soft, warm fur touched her skin. She ran her hand through his mane, pressing into him and just… Burying her face in it for a moment. “Well… I suppose we should try and see if anything useful washed up on shore, non?” She murmured. “We have a long way to go ahead of us.”

Nine gave a soft snort at this, one that sounded both amused and annoyed and Cassie simply chuckled in response. Ryu, however, was staring on into the distance. Fixated on something she can’t quite see. “What is it, Ryu?” Cassie asked seriously, straightening herself up. The Lucario glanced at her briefly and then closed his eyes, his four appendages raising up the way they always did when he was detecting aura, and then… His eyes opened again, and he let out an urgent bark. Cassie knew exactly what he meant. “Survivors?”

Without another word, Ryu had gone ahead, taking off a few meters forward and repeating the process. He looked back and his expression… Changed. And for the first time, Cassie wasn’t quite certain what it meant. It was that same look he had when… Oh Arceus... Her chest… Tightened, and it was almost hard to breathe. She wasn’t sure what she was feeling. Dread, hope, excitement, fear… But she did know for certain what Ryu had found. Dante… Please let him be alive.

Cassie glanced down and found Nine’s ruby gaze upon her. She met them with a serious gaze – something she wore when matters were life or death – and nodded.

And just like that, they were off.
 
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Name: Dante E. Young
Location: Cruise Liner, Roof
Current Team: Jason, Tails, Gary, Falcone, Ariel, Syl

It was the cold that Dante became aware of first.

As he slowly regained his senses, the first one to come rushing back was the general awareness of the weight and heat of his surroundings. Perhaps it made sense that that was the first to return; sight and sound and smell all required some degree of cognitive presence of mind to process, but the experience of temperature was instinctive. It was reflexive. If you put your hand on something of extreme temperature, you snatched it away immediately without even having to consider that it was too hot. So why shouldn't the cold weight of wet, damp air be the first thing that he became aware of? He could feel water clinging to his skin through his clothes, the drenched fabric making the soft, cool breeze feel more like an arctic wind when combined with the frosty chill that permeated the air around him. Wherever he was, it had a colder climate, that much was obvious.

The second sensation to return to him in the dark was warmth. That was odd. The air around him was cold and bitterly brisk, the kind of chill you would get from the very north of Kanto and Johto, but somehow less...clean? He wasn't certain how to describe it just yet, but it lacked the purity of untouched snow and ice. There was a tang to the air, a certain bitter edge that made it less crisp, and a lapping, ebbing, there-then-not-then-there chill in the back of his feet and ankles. But at the same time, he could feel a pulsing warmth from his stomach and side, pooling in his hand. It was a...liquid warmth, the kind of heat that runs through your fingers and down your body, radiating out from a central point. He wasn't certain what it was, but he had his suspicions. He got a sinking feeling in his gut - which twinged with pain as he shifted a little, experimentally trying to adjust his weight - but the only way to tell what was wrong would be to open his eyes to look.

That brought him onto the third sensation. It was...discomfort. As the general awareness of his body and his surroundings returned, he realised that he was lying down - he'd already concluded that, of course, but it was nice to get some degree of confirmation - on a hard, grainy surface that shifted as he moved, but otherwise lacked any kind of give in it whatsoever. He furrowed his brow as he twitched his fingers, getting used to controlling his body again. What on Earth...where was he? And what was that warmth he felt on his fingers? He twitched his right hand again, and the friction against his stomach - that was where they were touching, he realised - was all wrong. It was slick and rough all at the same time, with things shifting along his body at the motion. He needed to open his eyes and figure out what the hell was going on, but he found that the fourth sensation to return to him was just...nothing.

That might sound like an odd thing to say, that "Nothing returned to him" as if that nothing was an actual tangible thing, but it was the closest way he could describe it. It was simply the absence of thought, the absence of emotion, of drive, of energy. He just felt...lethargic. He could feel the weight of sleep still clinging to him, fingers running through his hair as gentle whispers coaxed him to simply stop fighting and return to the darkness. To give up, to relax, to release the fight and the tension from his muscles and simply allow himself to be carried away on the drifting tides of sleep. And he almost did, too; he could feel the lethargy spreading, the inky black touch of that old familiar foe seeping into his weakened muscles to soothe them into submission. He could simply let go. If he went to sleep now, he somehow knew that he wouldn't wake up again, and part of him...part of him welcomed that. Every day of his life was, in some way, a fight. A struggle.

Was it so wrong to just want to...rest for a change?

Was it so wrong for him to want to lay down and just give up? Why did he have to keep struggling through? Why couldn't he have his own peace for a change? He knew that wasn't him talking, it was the voice in his head, that soothing sirens song that whispered in his weaker moments, but he had to admit that...it was tempting. Very tempting. Too tempting. The part of him that the Nothing had not yet infected rebelled; it was not a friend, it was not a concerned ally, it was an enemy. The Enemy, the part of him that he'd been spitefully fighting for the last fifteen years of his life, and he'd be damned if it was going to win now. But that was a small part, a fading part. He shifted a little, arcing his back to try and get more comfortable, to slip backwards into the dark...but the movement flexed his muscles and shifted his body, and the warmth pulsing from his stomach and side became a burning, searing agony that flared through his entire body.

It felt like somebody had set his entire body on fire in that moment, every nerve ending he had screaming in pain as the slick heat flared to unbearable levels. A sharp gasping cry echoed from his lips on instinct, and the cleansing fire burned away what infection had managed to set in. It was shameful, yes, but...pain was the best way to clear his mind from these demons. It was dangerous, of course. It had almost killed him once upon a time. But in that moment, it was a necessary evil. The sweet, soothing voice cried out and fled as the pain threw his mind into sharp focus and chased away any thoughts of a restful sleep. Memories came flooding back, of the fight with the Gyarados, of...of Cassie's fall, of the water swallowing the both of them in a moment of certain death and yet...here he was, alive. He'd made it this far, and he'd be damned if he was giving up now.

But where was he? The last thing he remembered was...Cassie, falling to the ocean, the ship exploding...the water, the cold, the dark. His chest seized up sharply, panic striking through him. Survival from a fall that great, into Gyarados infested waters...it was unlikely. Improbable, even. Had he led her to her death? He didn't want to think it, but it was impossible not to consider the possibility and he felt a great, sudden weight settling on his chest. Breathing became hard, his breaths more short, ragged rasps than anything else. No. No, he'd survived, so she had to have as well, right? He'd evidently washed up somewhere, so...so she could have as well. It was that simple. He just had to stop being lazy and find her. She wasn't dead. She couldn't be dead, not after they'd finally found each other again after all these years.

He groaned, pushing the pain down as he did so. It was still throbbing, now more of a tingling ache that pounded behind his eyes than a searing flare of agony, so it was easier to ignore. He would investigate in a moment, but he needed to focus on getting his bearings first. With an effort more gargantuan than he was proud to admit he opened his eyes, squinting a little as he adjusted to the new level of light. He stared up at a grey, dull sky, and sound finally penetrated his shell of lethargy; he heard the sound of distant Wingull cawing in the sky. The slow susurration of nearby water as it ebbed and flowed...the grainy feeling beneath his head he realised was sand, which meant...a beach. He was on a beach. That made sense, of course; if he'd washed up from the ocean, then of course he'd be deposited on a beach. He turned his head to either side to ascertain the exact nature of where he'd washed up; it was cold, damp...there was a thin layer of mist on the ground (which he just so happened to be lying slap bang in the middle of) and as he tilted his head up, he saw the beginning of a treeline directly above him.

So...wherever he was, it was heavily wooded, and didn't seem to have many indications of human exploration. There were a lot of islands dotted around the routes and oceans that had yet to be properly explored, so he wasn't overly surprised. It would just mean that getting back to civilisation might be somewhat more difficult than he would otherwise like. He turned his head to the other side, expecting to simply see more beach...and his eyes widened in alarm. There, lying just a ways down the beach - perhaps a hundred feet or so - was the long serpentine form of an injured Gyarados. He knew before he even considered it that it was Gary. It was Gary who'd fished him out of the water and dragged him to the shore. It was Gary who'd rescued him from the frenzied Murder of Gyarados that had probably sought to kill him as soon as he hit the water...and it was Gary who was lying there, breathing shallowly with a large bloody gash down the length of his side, staining the sand and water around him red.

His heart seized in his chest once more and a cold feeling spread through his body. The world stopped moving for a moment as his heart leapt into his throat to strangle him, and immediately he was pushing himself off of the sand - pain momentarily forgotten - to try and rush to his pokemons - to his friends - side. Alas, as soon as he put any power into his arms at all, a fresh flare of agony pulsed through his system and his body was once again on fire, forcing him to collapse back to the ground in a shower of sand and water droplets. His eyes closed reflexively as stars danced before his vision, whatever strength he'd had in his body momentarily stolen as he spasmed a little on the ground. A fresh groan of pain - he refused to cry out again on principle - echoed from his lips, and it was the that he finally looked down at his own body to seek the party responsible for his inability to move.

His heart froze in his chest, and he felt bile in the back of his throat.

There, jutting out of the left side of his stomach-area, was a large, jagged piece of shattered metal, presumably from when the ship exploded under the Gyarados's hyper beam. It wasn't particularly wide, thankfully - perhaps five or six inches long, embedded horizontally along his side and stomach, and maybe a half inch to an inch wide - but given the length visible - about four inches - he had a horrible suspicion that it might have penetrated significantly deeper than was healthy. He'd be lucky if it had missed any internal organs. He'd have to be careful when removing it, but if it had ruptured his liver or his spleen or even his stomach...well, he was as good as dead anyway. The best he could do was hope that it had only hit flesh on the way in, and not anything more important.

He took several deep breaths through his nose, doing his best to keep calm and collected, though he could feel the panic rising on the edge of his mind. He had to stay calm, logical and methodical. He knew what to do...he just needed to keep his head. The slickness he'd felt when just waking up had been his blood - his hands were covered in his own blood, he could see that now - and his clothes were all but ruined, ragged and wet and torn and blood-stained, but he was lucky in one respect; the presence of the shrapnel and plugged the wound, so whilst he'd been bleeding, he hadn't lost nearly as much blood as as he might have otherwise. Count the small blessings, he supposed. He rested his head back on the sand as he considered his options...he needed to get to Gary, which meant he couldn't take too long recuperating, but he couldn't rush his own medical care. He wanted to say to hell with his own wound and tend to Gary, but...no.

No, he had to take priority. He couldn't help Gary if he couldn't move, and he couldn't move with this shrapnel embedded in his side, or he might rupture something if he hadn't already and Gary would never get the attention he needed. He grit his teeth and set himself to work. He reached down to his belt with his right hand - thankfully, the extra-strong ball-clips had held or he'd just flatly be screwed - and tapped each one in turn, not bothering to check the braille except to make sure that he wasn't accidentally returning Gary to his ball; that could make his injury worse, the state he was in. The five beams of red light coalesced into his team standing next to him, each of them looking about in confusion, but as soon as their eyes alighted on him and his injured form, they immediately rushed to his side. He held up a hand to stop them - the last thing he needed was to be swarmed by concerned Pokemon - and gave them a weak smile. To their credit, they immediately pulled up short.

Tails and Jason obviously knew what had happened immediately; they'd been directly involved in the battle, so the leap of logic was not exactly a long one for them. Falcone - his Rhydon - Ariel and Syl, however, were utterly in the dark, and he could see the shock, confusion, concern and fear etched into their faces. The last time they'd been out, they'd been playing at the pool. Now they were in a strange, unfamiliar land and their trainer was on the ground in pain, injured? Falcone looked over her shoulder, and let out a startled noise at seeing Gary, which drew the attention of the rest of his Pokemon, each of them showing their own signs of worry and surprise. Whilst Gary wasn't the easiest Pokemon to get along with, well...he was still one of them. He was still family, and they still cared about him, deep down. Syl especially seemed torn; she looked at Dante with wide, terrified eyes, her ribbons drooping, then looked back at Gary, as if aching to run over and check on him, too.

Syl was easily the most emotional of his team, and she was the one who had ended up getting closest to Gary. He wasn't certain how exactly, but...well, it was obvious that she was having a tough time deciding who to go to. Alas, he didn't have the luxury of explaining. Time was of the essence.
"I'm hurt," he said bluntly, gesturing to his side. The movement made him wince as a fresh wave of throbbing pain passed through him. He paused, then continued, "and we need to treat the wound before I can see to Gary. Syl." Her ears perked at the sound of her name, and her eyes met his curiously. He could see the worry shining in that wide, uncertain gaze and he felt a stab of guilt. She wasn't one of his primary battlers, and here she was, stuck on an island with no clear way off. And what about the rest of his team? If he died there on that island...they'd never see him again, never let out of their pokeballs and told what had happened. He felt the bile in his throat again, but he forced it aside. No. He had to focus.

"Syl, I need you to find me a large collection of leaves. Do not enter the forest; stick to the edges, where we can see you." Syl nodded and - apparently unable to control herself any longer - nudged at the side of his head affectionately, her ribbons wrapping around his arm before she bounded off to collect the undergrowth. He looked at Ariel, Jason and Tails. "Jason...Tails...Ariel..." He grunted softly as he shifted, the pain radiating out from his side growing in strength as he did so. He grit his teeth against it, closing his eyes. He felt a stinging at the edge of his eye, but he fought it, refusing to allow the pain to take over. He had to focus. Stay on task. Ignore the pain as much as possible, no matter how much it was burning him up inside. His breath turned short and ragged. "First Aid Protocol 4. Water Type Unavailable." His sentences became short, his voice strained and laboured. He closed his eyes, fighting down the pain-induced vomit that was threatening to come through as his team worked. Thankfully, he'd trained them well enough that his command told them exactly what they needed to do.

He had a number of First Aid Protocols amongst his team, and though the exact procedure varied depending on team composition, it always followed a general structure; obtain resources, create tools, assist in treatment. Whilst most of the treatment had to be done by Dante himself - since he was the only one with opposable thumbs and enough fine dexterity to perform the task - his Pokemon made gathering rudimentary resources far easier. Step one was to obtain a decent supply of clean water. Now, with the sea nearby, you'd think that you could just use some of that but...well, sea water was rarely clean, and salt stung like a bitch in cuts, and he wasn't exactly keen to experience more pain. Normally, they'd have just used Gary to fill a bowl of water with water gun, but since he was out of commission...they needed to improvise. Thankfully, he'd already considered this eventuality in their survival training.

The first step was to create a bowl. That was easy enough; Jason and Tails set about digging a wide, shallow hole - two feet in diameter at its widest point, and about a foot deep - in the sand next to Dante as he focused on not vomiting and staying awake, after which Ariel simply used her String Shot and Spiderweb attacks to create a sturdy enough base to the basin to prevent it from leaking into the sand. After that, Tails used her Ice Beam attack to fill the basin with ice, followed by controlled bursts of Ember by Jason to melt said ice into clean, lukewarm water. Falcone simply watched for the time being; her job would come later, since he already knew that he didn't have the strength in his arms to remove the shrapnel. Whilst Tails and Jason were busy making the water, Ariel was settling into her job of creating the surgery tools. First came Pin Missile to create the rudimentary sewing needle, followed by a helping of String Shot to create the twine.

It wasn't permanent, certainly, but it was sturdy enough to be a good stand-in, and he only needed to keep the wound closed for a few minutes at most before he gave it some extra help. God, what he wouldn't give for Healing Pulse right at that moment. Either way, two needles and thread lengths were created and set next to the basin of water. It was at that moment that Syl returned carrying a large bundle of twigs, leaves and grass, pushing them with her nose up to Dante's side. He reached over with a weak wince and gave each of them a grateful fuss or scratch, which they each accepted with a worried purr or growl. He smiled at them weakly, attempting to be reassuring.
"I'll be ok. It missed my internal organs," he lied. He had no idea either way, but...his team needed reassurance. "I just need to prevent further blood loss. Falcone." Falcone moved without needing to be told, shifting around to his head and holding him up a little as Jason and Tails created a small sand pillow for him, so that he could rest on it to look down at what he was doing as he worked.

Of course, that brought a fresh wave of lancing pain, a short, sharp hiss echoing from his lips as his chest hitched for a moment, before the agony died down once more. He took a few steadying breaths, before gesturing for his team to take a step back and give him some room, which they dutifully did. After using his left hand to pull his mercifully not-torn shirt up off of his stomach, the first thing he did was reach for a trio of leaves and - after getting Ariel to bind them with her Spiderweb - dipped them into the basin of water. He gave them a quick rinse before withdrawing them, wringing them slowly, then applying it to the area around his wound where the blood had been leaking out from. He washed away the blood there - which was already wet and runny from his dip in the sea - and did his best to clean away the dirt and salt and sand so he could get a properly look at the wound. It was thin, mercifully, meaning that he could probably sew himself back together, but it was a big wound which meant that he'd have to work fast, and without mistakes. He'd probably need to sterilise it too...and seal it. It would leave a nasty scar, but that was better than dying of blood loss and infection.

He gestured to Ariel, who understood his intention immediately. With Falcones help, she managed to construct a larger wad of leaves and twigs, binding it together with String Shot before resting it lightly on the sound nearby. He looked at Falcone, bracing himself for what came next.
"Falcone. Emergency extraction." He was in no state to remove the shrapnel himself, and trying would only risk making the wound worse, or using up his own strength before he had a chance to tend to the wound. It was a little galling to admit, but...he needed help, and Falcone was in the best position to offer it. She got into position on his left side, the ground rumbling a little with each of her slow, steady steps, her hands closing around the middle of the jagged piece of metal. He nodded to her. "On the count of three. 1...2..." He braced himself, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes as he slid one of the twigs Syl had brought him into his mouth; this was going to hurt, and the last thing he wanted was to bite his own tongue off. He nodded the "three," and Falcone heaved, using Strength to yank the shrapnel clean from his wound.

Even around the twig, he let out a loud scream, unable to prevent himself from showing the effects of the blinding, searing agony that came from the removal of such a jagged piece of metal from such a tender wound. The edges no doubt had caught on his insides a little, tearing them further, and he felt his vocal chords protesting at how ragged he was running them with such a simple cry of pain. He bit down hard on the twig, his teeth making sharp indents into the bark. His joints locked up in agony as he arched his back, unable to move for a precious few seconds as his world was replaced with stars, light and raw, pure, untainted pain. He breathed hard, spitting the twig out and gulping for air as he came down, but he couldn't afford to wait. His hand scrabbled at his side for the larger construction Falcone and Ariel had created, gripping it - freshly dunked into the basin by Tails and Jason, of course - and pressing it firmly against the wound to stem the bleeding before it started. His other hand grabbed one of the needles and held it up to Jasons muzzle.

It was fortunate that Jason had paid attention during the survival training, because words were somewhat beyond Dante at that moment in time, all of his energy going into not scrunching up his eyes and breaking down at the raw agony pulsing through his system. Another controlled burst of Ember heated the edge of the needle to near-melting point, both sterilising it and making sure that it would be able to cut through his flesh like butter. After holding the construction in place for a few more seconds, he peeled it away and gestured for Falcone to begin the next step. Whilst Dante could do it himself, he was in pain and he could tell that his hand was shaking. It was much easier to get Falcone to hold his wound together, the two separate parts of his flesh, kept sturdy in place by the larger, stronger Pokemon. All Dante had to do was sow those two bits of skin together.

He bent to the task immediately, ignoring the slow seeping of blood from the wound as the needle pierced his flesh, the bent nature of the needle making it easy to retrieve from the other side. The pain was intense, a small tear forming at the edge of his vision. He had slotted another twig into his mouth, and he bit down so hard as he worked - needle in, needle out, string through, needle in, needle out, string through, repeat repeat repeat - that he worried he'd snap the thing in two. Pain followed pain, the throbbing never abating for a single moment, his hands often slipping or losing their grip from the blood and several times he had to pause to get his breath back and calm his hand down from trembling so damn much. He went back over his work when he reached the end, of course, double stitching it for security. He barely hung on to consciousness, and several times he hit a particularly sensitive spot that made him feel suddenly light headed and woozy. Eventually, though, he was able to reach the end, double knotting and tying it off as if he were sewing up a dress or shirt rather than himself, before breaking the thread and tying it in a securing knot, just in case.

His head collapsed back onto the sand as he took a moment, the stars dancing before his eyes slowly fading. The pain was still there, but dull and distant. His hand was bloody again - a quick dunk in the basin as he collected some leaves to clean around the wound again fixed that - but for the moment, it seemed that the blood loss had stopped with his sewing. Alas, the string would not hold forever, and if he performed any strenuous task, he risked opening the wound once more. He knew he wasn't done. He knew he needed one more step, but it was not going to be pleasant. He sucked in a slow breath...then looked at Falcone, then Jason.
"Sterilisation," he whispered hoarsely. Jason and Falcone looked at each other uncertainly, but when no follow up order or clarification came, they reluctantly - oh so reluctantly, and he loved them for it - followed his command. Falcone held up her longest claw, more like metal than bone, in front of Jason.

Jason then directed a controlled Flamethrower over the top of her claw - as a Rock / Ground type, any damage done was negligible at best - until it was smoking and white hot. She winced a little at the pain, but bent to her assigned task...and pressed it against Dante's wound, burning and sealing the two stitched sides together at their weakest points. Dante, of course, had another twig but his scream was clearly audible to everybody in the immediate area nonetheless. It didn't echo far, but his team winced all the same. As Falcone took her claw away, he slumped back on the sand, chest heaving as he once more forced down the bile and vomit as Ariel approached and worked on binding the wound with a Stringshot bandage that wrapped around his stomach and back.

His head was swimming and his stomach churning, and he felt exceptionally weak from the mixture of bloodloss and agony, but he knew that there was something else he had to do. After taking a moment to take a small sip of the remaining water in the basin - it wasn't quite so clean anymore, but the lukewarm liquid felt like heaven sliding down his parched, raw throat - he gripped onto Falcones arm and used her as leverage to climb to his feet. He staggered a few times, the pain throbbing through his body and the weakness in his head making his knees buckle several times, but he made it there nonetheless and after he smoothed out his shirt and jacket - torn, but not unwearable, thankfully - he took a deep breath and - leaning on Falcone heavily most of the way - made his way to Gary, who was currently being nuzzled comfortingly by Syl (so this was where she'd disappeared off to during his procedure). He still had a patient, after all, and he wasn't about to let himself rest when his family still needed him. He was not going to rest until Gary was patched up and healing, and no amount of pain or weakness was going to change that. Gary had saved his life, obviously. Now it was Dante's turn to look after him.
 
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There were so many things rushing through her head. So many thoughts and fears, all the what ifs, and if only’s. There was a part of her that… Didn’t want to find out. A part of her that wanted to remain in blissful ignorance, the part of her that would always choose flight over fight and in so many cases in her life these past years… Had been right. It was unwise to go running into the belly of the beast, idiotic to investigate the strange noise in the darkness, yet, time and time again she found herself doing exactly that. Why? What was this masochistic obsession for finding ways she could torment herself? This storm-chasing, thrill-seeking addiction. Well… She supposed old habits die hard.

But in this particular case? She would be lying if she said it wasn’t something else entirely. Over the years, that hotblooded impulse of self-improvement – reacting faster, moving quicker, thinking smarter - had slipped out of her control entirely, pushing herself further and further, straining her limits harder and pushing herself ever closer to the edge, for just a moment longer of feeling alive. Right now, however… It was something more akin to ripping the bandage off. Confronting whatever state she might find Dante in.

There was the sliver of humanity left in her that dreaded finding him at the very edge of life, barely holding on, perhaps dismembered, but conscious still, somehow. She dreaded watching him die before her very eyes, doing everything she could to keep him alive, but, failing. She feared to be the last thing he saw as he breathed his last breath. She did not want to see his eyes, pleading up to her to save him, she did not want to feel his hand on her arm, trying to keep her there with him with his dying strength. Watching the life leave his eyes, whatever words he would say to her that would become another sound to haunt her for the rest of her life. Her hand instinctively reached up to where the silver pin lay nestled in her hair, sighing in relief to find it still there still.

There was something so… Cruel, about being given hope, only to have it taken away. There was something that made it all the more when you placed attachment onto something, or someone, only to lose it forever. As if… The more strings you attached to it, the more of you it took. It was an indescribable kind of pain, something she had only felt once before and… Something she was still trying to recover from now, even after it had been returned to her. The cracks were still there, like the jagged edges of the scars that marred her body. But she had to know, so she wouldn’t hope.

She had to know, just so she had one less thing she didn’t know.

There were many sentiments she could dwell on, memories and words she could reminisce and bring herself to tears with, yet… That was not a luxury she could afford. She needed to stay together, keep moving forward. Perhaps later… When she was safe and warm. But right now… She needed to suck it up and push on.

The wind was cold against her face, but Nine’s warmth kept her from shivering. She held on to him tightly, staying low as to not be thrown off by the incredible speed he was moving at, following behind Ryu closely. By that point, her fine, satin dress had dried up completely, but she would still need something warmer to wear. As they sprinted down the coastline, Cassie kept one eye at the waves, trying to see if any suitcases or articles of clothing had washed up, but so far, to no avail. The island itself presented no signs of civilization either. No ports, boats, no stairs, trails, or the occasional pile of litter that was just an inevitability with human presence. It was heavily forested, and visibility was limited due to the fog, seemingly growing thicker the further they travelled from their original position. That was something she needed to consider further on. Of course, there was the inevitable flashback to her time on Jinko Island, but… Nothing had come out to kill them so far, and that alone was enough to keep her somewhat optimistic.

However, that did not make the sense of lingering dread any better.

The closer they got, the faster her heart pounded. Butterflies danced in her stomach, and it was difficult to tell if they were from anxiety or excitement. If he was alive, then… She wasn’t alone there. And he was much more resilient than she was. And yes, though she technically had her Pokemon... They only offered so much in terms of human interaction. It wouldn’t be anything new, of course, but… It wasn’t something she would prefer, either. Perhaps it was just the thought of having Dante. Knowing how capable he was, how much more put-together he was and just how much stronger he was than her. If he survived the rest of the Gyarados hoard on his own, then, what challenge did she really offer him? After all, humans were such fragile creatures. What had only given Ace second degree burns and a dislocated shoulder had completely obliterated her arm.

But if she thought of Dante… Then she really wouldn’t be surprised. She always knew he’d achieve big things, even as a child, and he could accomplish anything he set his mind to. And so far, that had been true. But perhaps, she was being too dangerously optimistic yet again.

Cassie knew they were close as Ryu slowed down his pace, and Nine matched his own cadence. He looked on, cautiously, then glanced back at her, and through the fog, Cassie could faintly make out several figures in the distance. She knew those silhouettes by heart, of course. A Rhydon and… Her heart seized in her chest, her breath stuck in her throat. A Houndoom and a Ninetales. Nine was similarly alert. Slowly, she slid off his back, eyes fixated to the forms ahead. There were more shadows coming in her view; an Ariados and a long, large serpentine form that was unmistakably a Gyarados. Jason, Tails and Gary. This had to be Dante.

For what felt like ages, she simply stood there with Nine, frozen in place as she built up the courage to move closer and make her presence known. The only thought in her mind being, ‘Is this a celebration or a funeral?’ But now that she was there… She couldn’t turn away and change her mind. From the fog, she took a deep breath and dared a step forward. Then another one, and another. Her feet were light against the cold, rocky sand, but she kept her gaze forward, and Nine and Ryu followed behind her. As she drew nearer, more and more details on the silhouettes were revealed, confirming her suspicion that they were indeed the Pokemon of the man who’d battled a Gyarados Murder head-on. But more than that, she was also confronted with the distinct smell of blood that made her stop in her tracks. That strong smell of iron. Her stomach clenched as her eyes scanned around, searching for a body, but, at the same time not hoping to see one. What she did find, however, made her both hopeful and horrified at the same time.

Bloody pieces of leaves and webbing, a basin with dark water and a metal shrapnel, covered in blood at the tip and clumps of what she could only assume was flesh. But, no body.

No body.

She took another breath from her mouth, but she could taste the iron in the air, mingling with the sea breeze. She pressed forward, and finally, she saw him, knelt before the massive leviathan and seemingly tending to a large gash across his body. Upon first glance, from what she could see of his back – clad in that beautiful suit he’d worn before, still - he seemed completely fine. Almost, unscathed. Which made her wonder, if… The blood had been his to begin with. Perhaps, they’d been for Gary. Perhaps…

She paused. Was this really real? Looking on with almost, disbelief, and bated breath. She glanced back at Nine and Ryu, who were focused on the same figures she was, just a few yards away. Nine was moving closer with her, almost… Wanting to go ahead, his gaze fixed on the ethereal female that was just as focused on the Gyarados as the rest of the team were. So, this was… Real, wasn’t it? Dante was alive, and, not only was he alive, he was in one piece, he was functioning, and he was… He was surviving.

It was almost too good to be true.

She opened her mouth, but… Nothing came out. Afraid that if she said anything, the illusion would dissipate. Or perhaps, it was all a trap, somehow, by a nightmarish creature searching for its next meal, or a sick experiment by a deranged organization. At this, she too was afraid to find out. She stepped back, yet, her heart was yanked forward. She wanted to see his face again. She wanted a second chance to know him again and fill in those years that they’d missed from each other’s lives. He… Why was she doing this? Why was she being so hopeful, despite everything she had been through? To repeat the same process over and over in the hopes of achieving a different outcome was the very definition of insanity, yet, here she was.

And who’s to say she wasn’t insane already?

She opened her mouth yet again, taking in a breath and gathering all the strength she had in her beaten, weathered body, and she called, almost, fearfully, “Dante…!”
 
Name: Dante E. Young
Location: Cruise Liner, Roof
Current Team: Jason, Tails, Gary, Falcone, Ariel, Syl

The trip to Gary's side was only about a hundred feet or so, but it took him far, far longer than he would have liked. A hundred feet might sound like a lot, but at his average walking speed it normally would have taken him only fifteen or twenty seconds to cover that distance were he at full strength and completely healthy. As it was, however...he wasn't, and it easily took him at least a couple of minutes to cross the distance. Even leaning heavily on Falcone to steady himself as he walked, he still had to stop often as the world would randomly begin to tilt and spin, dizzy spells coming thick and fast and forcing him to take a few seconds to force the bile down out of his throat. He wasn't certain why he felt so sick - he wasn't a doctor, so self diagnosis was not a good idea - but if he had to guess, he imagined that it had something to do with the fact that he'd not eaten or drank anything since before the Gyarados attack, and combined with his rather copious degree of blood loss and the large wound in his stomach...well. It was obvious that he needed rest, food and drink to recover.

Alas, he was not in a position where those luxuries were afforded to him. If he didn't see to Gary immediately, his wound could fester, get infected and eventually kill him, and he was not allowing one of his oldest friends to suffer such a fate when it lay within Dante's power to stop it. That meant that as difficult as it may well be, he needed to keep his head on straight and resist the urge to slip into an unconscious stupor at least long enough to clean and bandage Gary's wound. With any luck it was just a flesh wound that needed cleaning, binding and time to heal. If it was worse than that...no. No, he wouldn't consider that eventuality. In the event that it was worse than a flesh wound, there was literally nothing that Dante could do about it, so it made no logical sense to worry about it at that moment in time. He would cross that bridge if and when he got to it, and until that happened, all that thinking about it would do would be distract him. He had to stay focused. He was already risking disaster with his dizzy spells and unsteadiness, so he simply couldn't allow himself any further distractions.

Still...five minutes is a long time when you are alone with your thoughts and every step takes you a gargantuan effort to make without falling over. Whilst his strength did return a little as he journeyed - his body getting used to walking again after so long simply lying limp in the waves, or on the shore - he was nowhere near full strength, and he had to wonder...where was Cassie? Had she washed up on the same beach? Was she just a little ways down the bank, waking up and wondering where she was? Was she on another island entirely, or was she still adrift at sea, slowly wasting away, water flooding into her lungs and choking the life from her? Had she...had she died upon hitting the water, her body sinking down into the depths never to be seen again? The thought made bile rise in his throat again, and he had to take a moment to stop and steady himself, pushing himself upright and closing his eyes to take a deep, aggressive breath inwards through his nose. No. No, he couldn't...couldn't focus on that. Not yet. He had to prioritise.

He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as he steeled himself and took a deliberate, heavy step forwards, waving away Falcone's supporting arm. If he was alone wherever he'd washed up, then he couldn't spend the whole time leaning on Falcone. He needed to deal with his weakness himself, and that meant learning how to compensate. Of course, the third step he took was one that sent him crashing to the ground on one knee, his right arm only just managing to catch him from falling to the ground completely. The world span a little before his eyes, and he could taste a small bit of bile sliding into his mouth from his throat, that kind of half-vomit, half-saliva liquid that you get when you feel queasy but not quite queasy enough to evacuate your stomach. He let out a soft sigh, spitting the liquid out onto the ground and forcing himself to his feet, doing his best to form a small little shell around the inside of his mind. He entered the Void as best he could, the throbbing of the pain and the swimming of his vision pushed aside. Gary needed him. That was what was most important at that moment.

After what felt like an eternity of slow, steady steps - each one more certain and stable than before, thankfully - he reached Gary's side. He saw as he closed that Gary was unconscious, probably sleeping off the pain and exhaustion that came from fighting such a huge losing battle, and he couldn't stop himself from running his hand gently over Gary's right cheek-scale. Thankfully, Gary did stir a little - indicating that he wasn't currently stuck in a coma - but otherwise remained asleep. He'd need Gary to stay that way, of course, since none of his Pokemon were really able to restrain him when he got angry and aggressive and began to thrash around, so alas...he would need to knock Gary out more conclusively before he began treatment. As he approached Gary's side, he saw that his team had already taken the initiative; upon seeing Gary's wounds, the lot of them had already initiated the First Aid Protocol, and a large pile of sticks, twigs and leaves sat next to a wide and deep basin - at least three times the size of the basin he'd used for himself - filled with freshly thawed water.

Ariel had used Pin Missile to provide a few larger, chunkier needles, each of them connected to a long spool of twisted spider silk. He gave them each a small smile - though Syl didn't notice, consumed as she was in trying to cuddle Gary, wrapped around the side of his jaw protectively - and nodded. "Good work, team. Well done." He said quietly as he reached out a hand and leaned slightly on Gary's larger serpentine form. "We cannot allow him to wake up until after the procedure is completed. Tails. Put him under, please." Tails lifted herself up from where she was sitting with an elegant nod, preening herself a little before padding quietly around to Gary's head. She focused for a moment and the air warped around her as she directed her psychic abilities into Gary's mind, transmitting her Hypnosis to push him further into the subconscious realms of sleep. It was risk, certainly, to push him deeper into the depths of unconsciousness but...it was the only way.

He sighed and steadied himself against Gary's side, then set to work, settling himself on one knee next to Gary's large, angry-looking gash. Of course, he had the help of his Team and he wasn't distracted by blinding pain every few seconds so this operation did go somewhat smoother. First came the washing of the wound and the removal of the various debris and splinters and whatnot that had gotten lodged inside it which was handled by Jason, Falcone, Tails and Dante himself each taking a section of the long cut and taking care to wash it slowly and methodically. When the blood had been washed away and the insides of the wound had been cleaned properly, it was time to stem the fresh bleeding. Whilst on himself it had been a simply matter of covering it and applying pressure, Gary was a bit more awkward; his size and position meant that they'd have to support the bandage itself to keep it attached to the proper place, but they'd drilled for this, too.

They set about creating several different bandages for Gary out of the leaves and sticks, dividing it into four smaller sections that would overlap to provide overall pressure on the wound. Next, they attached the bandage one at a time by having Falcone hold the makeshift covering in place - Dante couldn't help much there, since his left arm couldn't lift above his shoulder without causing a sudden blooming flame of pain - whilst Ariel webbed the corners to Gary's scales. Rinse and repeat until the wound was completely covered by freshly washed leaves and sticks. It wouldn't hold forever, but it didn't need to; it only needed to hold long enough for them to put pressure on the wound to stem the bleeding and soak up the excess blood. After that, they'd remove the bandage and see about stitching Gary up, then give him a fresh, more permanent binding before returning him to his ball to find a place he could rest more comfortably and more permanently.

It was just as they finished applying the bandage, however, that something in the air changed. His ear pricked as he heard the sand beneath him crunching, and he saw a couple of his Team turning around sharply as if they'd heard something approaching from behind. He frowned and took a moment to steel himself; if it was a wild Pokemon, he wasn't in the best shape to battle, but he supposed he wouldn't have a choice. He'd need to focus, do his best and hope that his team was good enough to fill in the blanks when he inevitably stumbled over himself thanks to a dizzy bout or a surge of pain. He took a deep breath...and then the voice echoed across the small distance, and his eyes flew open wide, a sharp intake of breath through his mouth the only sound he could make. He knew that voice. The previous fears of her fate, of her death, rushed back to him and he wondered if this was an auditory hallucination; he was hungry, thirsty, tired and injured, after all. He'd lost a great deal of blood and he was cold and wet and fatigued...all of them exceptionally good at depriving the brain of its proper functions.

And yet...the voice was so clear. So crisp. His heart surged and his hand shook just a little bit on Gary's side as he pushed himself up to a standing position. He did sway a little uncertainly on his feet before he found his balance, but it was a momentary thing before he found himself turning around slowly, as if afraid to look and find that he'd merely heard an odd gust of wind echoing through the trees. But as he turned, warmth bloomed in his chest - and not the warmth of pain or blood, but something altogether more welcome and at the same time alien to him - as his eyes found Cassie's, ice meeting mercury across the misty sand. Long flowing black hair - still wet and somewhat bedraggled, yes, but still gorgeous - and a tattered and torn evening dress. Her arm looked awful - bandaged up and secured against her body; she'd been hurt, too - and his heart nearly broke at the sight...but it mended immediately upon the realisation that...yes. Yes, she was alive, she was ok (relatively speaking) and that she was there with him.

He blinked, then - surprisingly - he gave a soft, breathy chuckle. It was a single syllable thing, more of a letting out of a breath he didn't know he'd been holding since he woke up, a sound of raw relief as he took the several steps necessary to meet her on the beach. Her dress matched his suit, of course, wet and torn and bedraggled, and of course the left side of his shirt was torn open and stained pink with his now-dried blood, the webbing bandage visible beneath but...they were ok. They were both alive, and that was all that mattered. The rest of his team continued to put pressure on Gary's wound - he'd need to redirect his attention there soon, but he just...needed to make sure that this was real, that he was actually seeing her and not some figment of a guilt-fractured mind - but he reached for her shoulders.
"Cassie..." He murmured softly, his hands alighting gently on her shoulders, doing his best to avoid putting too much pressure just in case she was hurt. He ached to hug her, to embrace her in his relief - that she was safe, that their reunion had not yet ended in tragedy - but he imagined that was not the wisest course of action, given both of their states.

So instead, he just squeezed her good shoulder, then leaned forwards and rested his forehead against hers for a brief moment.
"I'm...so very glad that you are safe. I feared the worst." He took a moment to inhale deeply before he stepped back and allowed his arms to drop to take her hands in his. Despite the cold, she was...gloriously warm, magnificently alive, and he had never felt anywhere near such pure, unfiltered relief. "I do not know where we are, but...at least we are not alone." He nodded to himself, but his eyes fell to her arm. "Are you injured? Thirsty? I have access to water, if you need it." He'd need to get back to tending to Gary soon, but for now, his team could handle it and he just...he needed to bask in the light of this win. It was quite possibly the only good news they were going to get for a while, so...they may as well enjoy it, right?
 
And all of a sudden, several pairs of eyes were on them.

She won’t ever be accustomed to gazes again, she knew. It was a piece of her that will forever be lost and… broken. Not after the events that scarred her so, warped her mind and tore it apart in a way that can never be fixed. It was just the way she was now, another stigma, another ugly scar that she had to wear. She didn’t want to be that way, oh, all the things she would give just to be whole again, but… it was very seldom ever her decision to make. It was just something you had to live with. And as she grew older and more mature, it grew to matter less and less. But right now, standing there in front of him with all illusions of grandeur and strength torn apart, leaving only… Her. The person she had always tried to catch, who she wanted so desperately to impress, to be equal to. She wished she had met him again sooner, when she was a better person, in a better place, at her peak and on top of the world. But he hadn’t been there. No one had. Not even her own family. Her own mother. She was lonely at the top and lonely now, after all the people she had chased and who had chased her turned away and left her alone. And he was the only one left, yet to leave.

Her eyes watched his silhouette as it fell still, from where he was crouched. And it was not just a lack of motion, it was also the stillness of thought. She could hear it, somehow, from the brief cessation of even breathing. Her heart raced in her chest. Excited and hopeful, yet cautious at the same time. He began to rise, but there was something off about it. There was… hesitance, weight. As if his body suddenly weighed a hundred times more to carry. There was unsteadiness, weakness and a loosening of control that was completely out of place in the man she had seen just hours before, so dashing and proud, who could carry the entire world on his shoulders. And who did just that. He swayed, and her heart dropped in her stomach, stepping forward as if to go to him, yet, stopping sharply in her tracks. His Pokemon had no idea who she was, and the last thing he needed was another body to treat. But at the same time, her mind wandered back to those bloodied bandages and murky water basin. It had been his all along, and her stomach sank even further. He’d appeared fine, yet… Looks were always deceiving.

His suit was a shadow of its former self too, now tattered and ripped, clinging desperately to his body, still dripping wet. What were the odds of it all, to be washed up on the exact same island, the exact same beach? They could have been separated, they could have died, yet, in some mad twist of luck, here they were. And here he was, staring back at her with those painfully beautiful ocean eyes. He moved forward and she was running to him before she even knew it. Far too eager to close the distance, or, perhaps, worried that he might stumble, and fall should he take another step. The smell of blood hit her hard as soon as that distance had been closed, overpowering his winter scent and warping it with an ugly, metallic tang. “Dante…” She responded in kind. Her eyes took him in from head to toe. The fatigue on his face, the pallor of his skin made itself painfully apparent. The large, red stain on his once white dress shirt and what looked to be… Spiderwebs, peeking out from underneath, clinging to his skin. He touched her – those large, rough hands alighting on her shoulders, cold to the touch, yet so very alive – and she began to believe that this was truly real. There was that same spark, that same warmth that lighted in her chest, and using webbing for a wound dressing… Only Dante could come up with something so clever. She had been fortunate to have healers on her team, but as for him? He didn’t seem to have that privilege, yet he was holding up much better than she would have.

And all at once, she was finally flooded with relief. All of a sudden, she ached to hug him, pull him close and experience more of that warmth, that comfort of just… Not being alone. But there was that barrier there, voices and paranoid thoughts keeping her in place. The fear of loss and abandonment planted her feet firmly in the sand, her jaw set, sealed. Denying herself this, keeping her ever in that state. But he squeezed her shoulder, and her hand slowly reached up and grasped it in her own, as she looked into those blue topazes he called eyes with her conflicted silver ones. He leaned forward and, for a second, she was unsure of what to do. But then, he once again surprised her as he rested his forehead against her, so close yet… Still comfortably apart. There when she needed him, yet, with space for her to move and her eyes to roam. His warmth, his gentle breathing against her face and just… How well she fit there, how close she felt to that marvelous, glorious mind of his.

She closed her eyes, and memories of laughter and childish games danced across her mind. Cassie found herself smiling, and laughing, crying, as the memories returned to her. She never cried. She hadn’t cried when her hands were permanently disfigured, she hadn’t cried when Rocket took her and imprisoned her for all those months, she hadn’t even cried when her own family decided to abandon her. But she did cry when she had been forced to release her Pokemon, and she cried now, with him, for no reason at all. “I remember you used to say that all the time… Each time I pulled a stupid stunt to impress you and Grace… Or all the times we’d get lost following Pokemon tracks and I got myself in trouble acting brave.” Tears fell down her face as she opened her eyes and looked at him. “Do you remember?” She laughed bitterly. “It seems, we’ve hardly changed at all.”
 
Name: Dante E. Young
Location: Cruise Liner, Roof
Current Team: Jason, Tails, Gary, Falcone, Ariel, Syl

He could see the sudden stab of concern in her eyes as he stood and faced her, the shock of worry and surprise flashing across her visage before she had a chance to smooth it away. She hid it well, but he could still see it; that sudden sense of fear and worry when he swayed on his feet, that look in her eyes that told him that she'd seen his moment of weakness and knew now that he was not at full strength. A part of him recoiled at the realisation; he was supposed to be strong, capable, implacable in his advance. He was supposed to be better than weakness, above vulnerability. It was his job to protect his family, his friends, his team, but how could he do that when he could barely stand? And of course, if anybody else knew that he was weakened and vulnerable, that just put the people he cared about in even more danger because everybody was watching for that stumble. If you were at the top of your game people hesitated to challenge you, but if they caught the smell of blood in the water...that was when they swarmed, all hoping to tear off their own pound of flesh.

That was why he was always so careful with his appearance, careful with his poise and presence. The first rule of being a Champion, the first rule of being at the top was to never once let them see you bleed. Never let them show that they'd gotten to you, never let them see that they'd wormed their way into your head, or that you were distracted or vulnerable. You needed to make yourself a mountain, an unassailable fortress that was more myth than man. If you went into the battle with your opponent believing you to be invincible, then that was exactly what you were. It was a psychological block; people never won unless they believed that they could. If they were expecting to lose, they were more likely to give up quickly. They were less likely to think hard about counters to your moves, they were more likely to allow themselves to be led into corners. In short, they would end up subconsciously sabotaging themselves to make your myth of invincibility a self fulfilling prophecy. It was the same with bullies and demons and pokemon trainers both. You could never let them see you flinch.

And yet, that was exactly what Cassie had just seen.

She'd seen him sway, she'd seen him stumble, she'd seen him uncertain and unsteady on his feet. His myth of invincibility - the carefully crafted reputation he had cultivated over the last six years - was shattered in a single moment, and in front of one of the most gifted trainers he'd ever had the pleasure of knowing. Would she seek to challenge him now? It was an insane thought, given their situation, completely illogical and unwarranted, but he had to admit that it was a fear that occurred to his woozy, oxygen-deprived brain. But that was utterly ridiculous. That fear, that concern etched into her face for that single moment did not speak of a woman who was seeing wounded prey and was readying herself to strike. It was somebody who cared about him, somebody who wanted him to be ok, and somebody who was now concerned about his well-being rather than his status. It was a...humbling sensation, he had to admit, knowing that somebody he hadn't seen for over a decade could care so deeply about him.

But then, hadn't he just been panicking over the notion that she herself might be dead or wounded? Why would it be weird for her to feel the same way about him? There was a stab of guilt for letting her see him like this - wounded and unsteady, that was; he didn't want to put even more pressure or weight on her shoulders - but that was ridiculous to worry about now. All that mattered was that they were there, together, alive. Their chances of survival had just increased exponentially just by virtue of not being alone any longer, and he could not be more grateful for it. He breathed in her scent - deliciously sodden springtime flowers and the touch of fresh grass, electricity crackling in the air as if threatening a thunderstorm in his lungs - and allowed his eyes to close for a moment as he remembered those snippets of memories from a life that felt so far away and so removed from who he was now that it felt like he had the memories of a completely different person. But he could still remember how that kid had felt, how happy those days had been, and he had to smile to himself despite everything.

How long had it been since he'd had a genuine smile for anybody other than his Pokemon? How long had it been since anybody had ever managed to make him do anything but twitch his eyebrows in bemusement? He always had to be so stern and severe, but the relief that was flooding him at that moment...no. No, he didn't care to be serious and grim and stony faced. They both needed companionship if they were to get through this, and even if they'd grown and grown apart...they could still remember the kids they'd used to be, and maybe that would be enough. "I remember," He said slowly through slightly laboured breaths, the wound in his side still twinging and stinging with every movement of his chest he dared to make, "that you two seemed desperate to give me a heart attack on a near daily basis, young lady," he said with a small, slightly pained chuckle. "It's good to see that nothing has changed in that regard, at least. It's oddly comforting." He gave her a rueful smile. Though I must admit that this time, I'm the one who dragged you into trouble. Turnabout is fair play, I suppose, and perhaps it's Grace's turn to have a heart attack over me."

He gave a small, weary chuckle, before he reluctantly stepped away, pulling his forehead away from hers.
"But no matter. We've found each other, and if I'm to be stranded on a desert island, I can think of nobody I'd rather be stuck with than you. Are your Pokemon safe? You took quite the nasty fall, last I saw." He shifted his gaze to roam over her discreetly, checking for bruises and cuts and oddly places limbs, anything that might indicate a wound. If she was hurt, he wanted - needed - to know so that he could address it quickly. She was here, she was alive, but that didn't mean that she was safe and unhurt. If she wasn't...he needed to know about it as soon as possible. He would not let her get any more injured than she'd already suffered. They were together now, and if there was one thing he was going to guarantee, it was that she was getting off of wherever they were safely. No matter what. He'd gotten her into this mess, after all; he owed her that much, at least.
 
Cassie had a very funny way of crying.

It did not involve the telltale signs of hitched breathing, or a shaky voice. She did not tremble or whimper, sniffle, or sob, her body did not curl and her nose did not clog, and her face remained perfectly flat. Perfectly smooth. Not a single miniscule twitch of muscle in the slightest. From behind or far away, you would not think that she was crying at all. But from the front, if you came in close enough, you would see the ever so slight reddening of her nose and eyes, and the tears rolling down her cheeks. But that was how she had been taught to cry. “One sound, and you are dead.” That was what Jeanne-Renae had told her, just like her father before her, and his father before him. If she made so much as a peep, then whatever wrath they’d had before would be doubled. The words they spoke would be harsher, and the judgement more merciless. That was simply how it was done in her family. It was one of the ways they taught self-control. To never let your opponents see you weak and vulnerable. It had been difficult to learn – she would nearly suffocate herself trying to clamp her mouth shut – but eventually she did. Sooner or later, they all did. Except, her sister, but that was a different matter entirely.

But in the end, Cassie never held it against her mother. That had been all she knew, and her life was made easier as a result where others struggled. She learned to distance herself from her emotions, she learned to let them pass through without ever touching her and it had brought her success. And now… It was helping her save face with Dante. One of the few – if not only – people in this world she still valued the opinion of. A part of her wanted to whisper how she was right where she started despite everything she had been through. Her demons creeping in and closing her eyes, convincing her that she was still a sad little girl looking for the approval of others. She hadn’t grown, she hadn’t changed. She couldn’t even live for herself. What a moron she was. What a weakling. A waste of space. Hell, even the universe itself agrees. How many times had fate tried to kill her? How many times had it thrown the absolute worst of the worst at her, hoping to erase her from this planet? Every time she breathed, every time she did anything, something went wrong. Yet she just. Wouldn’t. Die.

Why couldn’t she just die?

Was it even worth it to stay alive? Perhaps she could stay here, give up and let it all come to a stop. Let this be her final resting place. This dark, unknown island far from any charted waters. It suited her.

She wiped the ink away, and a different part of her chimed in. That this was all her fault. Surely, she hadn’t forgotten how trouble followed her like a starving dog. Surely, she knew this was going to happen, sooner or later. Chaos was her lover, and he was a jealous master. How many times had she caused misfortune to her friends? It was like a curse that haunted her. Those who treated her kindly were punished, and then taken away. That was simply how her life worked. She was a sinking ship that sought to drag anything and anyone it could reach down with her. And now, she had dragged Dante into it too. As he breathed each heaving breath, she could smell the iron of blood. As she looked into his eyes, she saw his life slowly draining away. His face was paler than it was before with each blink of her eyes, and she was… Terrified. Dante. Brilliant, sophisticated, gifted Dante was slowly dying before her very eyes. She remembered the makeshift dressing peeking through the torn part of his shirt. How severe had his wound been? It had to have been deep, if she could smell the blood in his breath. He was bleeding on the inside, and it was all because he’d met her. If she hadn’t been at the pool that day, if their paths hadn’t crossed, would all of this, somehow, never happened? It was a bad habit of her’s these days to wonder about the “what ifs” of the tragedies she had experienced. What if she hadn’t chosen to save Jacob? What if she hadn’t gone to Route 15? What if she hadn’t accepted the invitation to Jinko?

What if she hadn’t been on that cruise?

She tormented herself with thoughts of a better outcome, an alternate future, where she was unharmed and safe and happy, but, perhaps that was the biggest fantasy of all. And perhaps, she had deserved every single one, but, not Dante.

Not Dante.

Oh, her heart wrenched at the sight of him, spilling more and more tears down her face. She ached to hold him, pull him close and apologize, but, that would only make the situation worse, wouldn’t it? It would exacerbate his wound and inflict pain on him, even though it would comfort her. It was a selfish wish. Therefore, she denied herself of it. Though they hadn’t been raised the same way, she knew for a fact that they had turned out the same, regardless. And to both of them, to people like them… Showing weakness was as good as taking a gun to your head and pulling the trigger. He was weak, yes, but so was she, and just as she would hate for her weakness to be brought into attention, so would he. She remembered him, just as well as he remembered her.

However, that did not stop her eyes from glimmering with concern, and fear. It did not prevent her hands from tightening its grip on his hand or tears from spilling one last time, before he stepped away and the vacuum returned to its place. If fate had its way, he would be taken away from her. But if there was one thing she had been unfailingly good at… It was defying the odds. But not for her this time, no.

For him.

Without saying a word, she simply released his hand, and used the back of her’s to wipe the trails of liquid that streaked her cheeks, and it was as if she was simply wiping away the splash of the waves that crashed onto the shore. Nine padded up next to her and nudged her side with his head, while Ryu approached on her opposite side with his gaze cautiously on Dante. We’ve found each other. He said. If I’m to be stranded on a desert island, I can think of nobody I’d rather be stuck with than you. If anything, this had been more of a curse to him than a blessing. “You might regret saying that.” She murmured, almost dejectedly, under her breath. Her hands deftly tapped a pokeball on her belt, releasing a ball of light that formed on her open palm.

Peridot came into being with a small twirl. Her ruby eyes quickly shifted into confusion, however, upon noticing her surroundings, but nevertheless obliged as Cassie placed her onto Dante’s shoulder. She looked to Ryu and he nodded back in understanding. She looked back to Peridot, and flicked her eyes to Dante. She nodded as well. “Heal Pulse.”

Immediately, a wave of healing energy flooded from the two Pokemon and onto Dante, pulsing through and repairing the internal injury he might have sustained. It had been the right call to save Ryu’s energy. Peridot normally did fine on her own, but, Dante deserved nothing less than the best. She gave a small grunt as the healing effect encapsulated her arm as well – of course Ryu wouldn’t leave her out of it – but she simply re-secured her arm in response, and then turned back to Dante with a rueful smile and a shrug. “I’d say this is about a typical Tuesday. But based on past experiences… It’s only going to get much worse from here. But for now, let me give you a hand.” Her eyes glanced over to Gary’s massive form behind them. “We’ll need all the help we can get.”
 
Name: Dante E. Young
Location: Cruise Liner, Roof
Current Team: Jason, Tails, Gary, Falcone, Ariel, Syl

It was a funny thing. He'd not seen Cassie in over a decade, and in many ways the woman standing opposite him was a complete and utter stranger. He couldn't even begin to imagine all of the experiences - both good and bad - that she'd had, all of the places she'd been, the people she'd met and the things she'd seen. He himself had had a fairly standard Pokemon Journey - though, there were definitely low moments and times that he'd rather forget - but he knew enough about at least a part of her journey to know that whatever lows she had hit were far, far worse than his own. It didn't take a psychologist or a therapist or a psychic to understand that experiences like that changed you on a fundamental level. That staring into the darkest parts of humanity for long enough allowed that very same darkness to stare back into you in turn. That no matter what you did later on in life, no matter where you went or who you became, you would always carry a little bit of that darkness around with you. That wasn't always a bad thing - sometimes that darkness protected you, in its own way - but it was never going to be easy to live with.

But that wasn't the funny thing. The funny thing was that yes, this woman before him should have been a stranger. She should have been utterly unrecognisable to him, but she wasn't. He looked at her and he still saw the Cassie he'd left behind. Maybe not in her entirety - she'd grown and changed and developed since then, naturally - but he saw her beneath everything else. He saw the girl she used to be, and he saw the weight of the world placed upon her shoulders. When he looked at her, he saw that girl, he saw her burden, he saw the raw strength she possessed in order to carry it all and he saw that old familiar darkness that had haunted him for his entire life. Perhaps the source was different, but the darkness itself remained. That yawning pit that dragged you down every moment of every day, the chasm that swallowed up every single bit of light and hope that remained inside of you until you were nothing but a walking husk of a human wishing for it all to end. That bone-chilling cold that ripped to the core of you no matter how many layers you wore and threatened to freeze your breath in your lungs if you breathed too hard.

In short, he stared into the darkness inside Cassie. He felt it staring back at him...and his own darkness, his own chasm greeted it as an old friend. He let out a slow exhale as she looked away, dashing away her silent tears - oh, he'd seen them, but he knew enough to know that mentioning them would only make her feel worse; there was a time for vulnerability and it was not now; she'd only feel worse for knowing that she'd been caught - and submitted to her first aid desires. Frankly, he was grateful; if he had happened to suffer any internal injuries, the Healing Pulse of her Pokemon would forestall it at the very least, and there was no reason to refuse her offer. He inclined his head respectfully towards....what were their names...Ryu and...Peridot? Yes. Yes, those were their names. At least he knew that his brain still worked, after a fashion. He gave them a weak nod of the head - a bow seemed excessive, and he'd still lost enough blood that he was worried about tumbling over face-first if he shifted his balance too far, too quickly - and a relieved half-smile. "My thanks, Ryu. Peridot. I may well owe you my life."

He straightened, the warmth from Healing Pulse filling his limbs for a moment as he moved. He glanced at his team, still hurriedly holding Gary together, waiting for his final orders. They'd managed to position the bandage over Gary properly, the spiderweb adhering to the edges of his scales, but it needed a little bit more securing before he was happy that it was good enough to alleviate Gary's discomfort and encourage healing. He took a step forwards towards Cassie, reaching out and taking her hand again, not really addressing her moment of vulnerability...but more simply showing her that he was there, regardless. He wanted to pull her into another hug, to assure her that he meant what he said that whatever it was she thought - whether she was a curse, a burden or just in the way - was the complete opposite of the reality of the situation. He gave her a small, weak half-smile and shook his head, squeezing her hand. Yes, he was listing heavily to one side, but it was nothing he couldn't handle. The Healing Pulse had at least temporarily alleviated some of the pain of the wound, so he had that going for him, at least.

"Oh, it will undoubtedly get worse," he said with a rueful, dry half-smile, that slight twitching of his lips as he enjoyed a brief moment of that famous Galarian gallows humour. "It always does. I believe that is the definition of Sods Law." He shook his head a little, then turned, leaning just a little bit on her shoulder. She didn't like to show vulnerability, and neither did he, but...maybe if he showed her this little bit, if he showed her that he trusted her enough to accept her help without shame...it would help, just a little. Besides, it was only logical; he was weak on his feet, and she had offered help. "But I will never...regret being stranded with you, Cassie. I ...think my chances of survival are far...far higher with a woman as capable...as you by my side. And we will survive this, Cassie." He gave her a small smile. "We are both...far too stubborn...to simply allow the darkness...to win, are we not?" He took a breath between certain words, his breathing still short and the pain still throbbing in his side...but it was manageable, at least, especially with her helping him hobble along.

He might have been more concerned about appearances...if he was not currently sporting a gut wound that would probably end up taking him out of contention for the next Pokemon League. It sounded strange, perhaps, but that was one of the things that annoyed him most about the whole situation. Maybe it was just the shock talking. In any case, they reached Gary's side a moment later, and he took his weight off of her shoulder and limped his way forwards. He turned to look at Falcone, and nodded.
"Emergency...reposition. On my mark. Ariel." He looked at Ariel next, beckoning her to come closer. "First Aid Discharge Protocol 5." Ariel chittered her understanding, and he looked over at Tails, still positioned by Gary's head. She was waning, he knew; keeping a beast as angry and injured as Gary asleep took a lot of effort, and a lot of concentration. She needed help. He shook his head and looked at Cassie. "We need to bandage around his body, to keep the gauze in place while he heals. To do that, we need to lift him up. Falcone can do that on her own, though any help your team could provide would give us more time to work. What I really need is another Pokemon to support Tails's Hypnosis. Gary is a light sleeper, and he is in a great deal of pain. If he awakens mid-procedure, things could get worse sooner rather than later." Well. Wasn't that the understatement of the century? Either way...Tails, Ariel and Falcone were in position. He just needed her support...and they were good to go. Hopefully, anyway. Something could always go wrong, and at the exact worst moment, too...but it seemed that Cassie had enough pessimism for the both of them. He was going to try to stay positive. He would probably fail, but...well, it was the thought that counted, was that not what they always said?
 
He stepped closer and took her hand. It was a simple gesture, yet, to her, it was more bewildering than her survival. It stunned her, almost. She hadn’t expected him to do that. Why? He didn’t need to go through this length. He could have just as easily turned and walked away, and she would follow behind him, and they would get to work. Just like everyone else did. That was how things had always been with her. They saw her standing upright, heard her speaking surely, clearly, and that was enough for them to carry on. How she felt didn’t matter. Even if they pretended it did, they didn’t really care, and they would never really understand. They pretended they did, or they would admit to not understand at all, but things would get better because they were there if they needed to talk. But talk is cheap.

It never made her feel better to listen to someone lecturing her that she needed to get help and that it would pass. They didn’t understand that what she had couldn’t be helped, and it would never go away, because she had asked for help, and nobody came. Because nobody knew how to get through her thick skull and that stubborn voice that told her all the assurances they offered wasn’t true, and that she didn’t deserve it even if it was. Nobody knew how to make her feel comforted, to reassure her that she was welcome, wanted. Not even she did. But when Dante took her hand, she realized just how… Easy it was. When he took her hand, she was not at the edges anymore, she was dead center, a part of everything that was happening. She was welcomed there, and she was wanted there. It was so simple, so easily missed, such that… She never knew how important those small gestures really were. At least, to her.

He smiled then, that signature half-smile of his and gave her hand a squeeze, and he led her towards the slumbering Gyarados. And as she stepped after him, she was taken back to those days under the shade, where only the thinnest beams of sunlight could slip through the crack of the leaves. The grass beneath their feet, he would pull her along, through the thickets and rose bushes as they ran after Grace. Whenever she felt she was too small, too weak or too slow to join them, he had always been the one to make her feel like she was part of the fun. And she never realized how much she missed that. How… Important, it had become to her. Her hand tightened around his own, holding it firm. She followed after him. She would always follow him.

To the ends of the Earth.

Dante listed heavily to one side as he walked, and she wondered if he was about to fall over at any given moment. For a brief moment, she wondered what was going through his mind as he spoke. Or, just in general. Since she was young, she never could figure out what exactly he was thinking when he sat alone and stared blankly at the pages of his books, pretending to read them. Or when they sat at the swings, and he would absently kick himself back and forth, never really going very high. Even now, she wondered, but… She also liked that about him. She liked that she could never quite figure him out. That there will always be sides of him she hadn’t discovered. Perhaps, it was reverence in a way, but she adored his complexity. Did he think about death when he made his dry joke? Was he trying to ease her tension? Did he feel hopeless, and was trying to cheer himself up? She didn’t know, and she… Liked that she didn’t.

After years of doing what she did and being who she was, it became so easy to read someone, such that it getting to know someone became… Pointless. Especially when everything you’d assumed about them proved to be correct. Nothing surprised you anymore, nothing interested you. Everything was expected, and there was no excitement anymore. But Dante… He was different. He was always different, and he was always special to her. What he wanted to do next, what his goals where, he could be just as unpredictable as she was, but, his heart was always in the right place. It made him more predictable, yes. But she knew that the way he would go about it was always a treat to watch unfold. And now, as he chose to lean on her… Did he expect how it would make her feel? Because it made her feel useful. Not only welcome and wanted, but… Also needed. As he leaned on her, asking for her help and admitting that he was weak and vulnerable… It made her feel… Reliable. Equal to him. She felt as if she was right there, in this world with him. Like her existence mattered.

The first part of what he said… Well, she never really allowed herself to listen to compliments anymore. It was cheap. Anyone could say it, even if they didn’t mean it, and she just fundamentally believed that it simply wasn’t true. But what he said next… That was what caught her off-guard the most. When he mentioned the darkness, she wondered if… He was telepathic somehow. If he was able to freely look into her mind, but… No. He wasn’t a psychic. So perhaps… Did he also live through the same experience she did? With that dark, heavy weight on their shoulders? She looked at him then, and saw that small smile on his face, and… She considered it. It would make so much sense. Why he understood her so well, even now. Even after she had changed so much. Why he knew exactly what to do, what to say. Why he wasn’t afraid of her.

Of course, the revelation would need to be addressed later. Right now… They had bigger things to worry about. She relinquished her hold of him as he hobbled away, and watched as he ran through a procedure with his team. It was clever, coming up with protocols for a series of moves. It kept the actual moveset secret and unpredictable to your opponent, and something to watch out for in battle, but, if it came to it, she was certain she knew Pokemon moves and fundamental elemental reactions well enough to predict what they were up to as they began to do it, but, it was still a major gamble. She would try to employ the same strategies, except, she did not trust herself nor her Pokemon to remember them. Especially when they’d never done anything like it before. Dante was a dangerously powerful and skilled trainer, and she can’t help but feel proud of him.

Of course, her eyes flicked to him as she felt his gaze on her, and she listened closely to the case study. In her head, she thought of the best combination to help aid that plan and nodded understandingly. “Very well. Peridot, continue your Heal Pulse. Ryu, you can stop. Go help Falcone lift Gary instead. And Nine, assist Tails with her hypnosis.” Nine tilted his head to the side, as he processed the order, then immediately took his position next to Tails and focused on Gary. His eyes glowed a bright scarlet, signalling his hypnotism. Meanwhile, Ryu let out a small growl of protest at needing to cease his Heal Pulse for Cassie, but, ultimately relented, taking up position next to the Rhydon and placing his paws beneath Gary, ready to heave. Cassie nodded at Dante then. “They’re ready. What do you need me to do?”

At that moment, she was just intent on supporting him as best as she can.
 
Name: Dante E. Young
Location: Cruise Liner, Roof
Current Team: Jason, Tails, Gary, Falcone, Ariel, Syl

Dante was not usually the best at reading people. The problem with spending most of his life either chasing after his sister or spending all of his time out in the wilderness with his Pokemon was that he hadn't really gotten much practice relating to people. He'd not been the best at it as a kid - he'd never had many friends to begin with, so he'd never had the chance - and he was no better now as an adult. But that was ok. As a general rule, he didn't even really like people all that much. They were mostly either stupid, selfish, short-sighted, vapid or boring. People tended to only be out for themselves, and if you couldn't help them with anything, a lot of people just never bothered to make the effort. He was much more at home with his Pokemon; they knew him, they understood him and they accepted him for who he was, flaws and all. He wasn't perfect, he knew that, but his Pokemon just didn't care. They were loyal and they loved him and he loved them. What else could he possibly ask for?

Which was why, of course, seeing one of his oldest friends in such agony that he needed to be kept asleep lest he hurt himself hurt so much. Gary...he was a pain in the arse sometimes, as all Gyarados were wont to be, but he could never even dream of faulting his dedication, his devotion or his determination. The amount of rough battles or dangerous situations that Gary had managed to get him out of was staggering, and he had a sneaking suspicion that none of them would have washed up on this island if it weren't for him. The wound didn't look just-inflicted-fresh, he'd say that much, so the chances were that Gary had sustained the injury in the downing of the ship and had still managed to carry him and his team ashore before collapsing. He was not going to reward that level of loyalty and self-sacrifice by allowing him to die. It was that bloody simple. Gut wound or no gut wound, Dante was not going to rest until Gary was stable and relatively safe.

In that venture...it meant the world to him that he had Cassie beside him. As he said previously, he wasn't always the best at relating to people, but Cassie had always been an exception. Whilst he'd never really been able to predict what she was thinking at any given time, he had always just kind of understood her as a person. He knew what she liked, what she didn't like, what she wanted and how she felt in a way that he'd never really been able to connect with anybody else. And the feeling had been mutual; she might not have always known what he was thinking or feeling, but she'd always seen more than anybody else. She'd always noticed when he was absent or distant, or when he was distracted or perturbed. More than anything else, she'd actually cared to pay attention, which might not seem like much, but...when you've spent your life having your innermost thoughts and feelings largely ignored by the people around you, somebody pausing to at least acknowledge that you were human too carried so much more of a meaning. It was the little things that most people never gave a thought to that mattered, in the end.

It seemed like on that point, she agreed. He felt the warmth of her palm as she squeezed his hand, helping him limp along with no word of protest or concern; she knew him well enough to know that they shared at least one little quirk; neither of them liked vocal reminders of their weaknesses. They both had extremely high standards for themselves, and whilst Dante was not so proud as to refuse aid or refuse to request assistance when he needed it, nor did he enjoy having his failures dragged out and examined in public. If he needed help, he would ask for it. If he was feeling weak, he would rest if he could. At that moment, however, it was obvious that he was weak, it was obvious that he was unhealthy, it was obvious that he was in pain...and none of it mattered because he had more pressing issues to address. He couldn't simply sit down and recover, and they both knew it. So there was no point asking the question. That was another thing he liked about her; she knew when to speak, and when to simply allow him to get on with things. They knew that they were both in a bad way. They also knew that they didn't have the luxury of relaxation. So why bother talking about it?

He staggered his way to Gary's side, flashing her a small look of gratitude as she ordered her team to follow his directions; though his team could handle it on their own, he needed help to get it done quickly and safely, and her team could be the difference between life and death for Gary. His own gallows-humour aside, outside the cold void of his logical determination he could feel the gnawing of worry and anxiety. They could treat the external wound and encourage Gary's frankly amazing natural healing factor to work, but if he'd suffered any internal injuries that they weren't qualified to even detect, let alone treat? Then all of this bandaging would be for naught. Hell, technically speaking they shouldn't even be moving Gary, but if they didn't, they couldn't wrap him properly. And he couldn't stay by the shoreline when they had no idea what kinds of weather this island got. They needed to find a freshwater source to let him rest in. If nothing else, it would be better for his comfort than leaving him to bask in saltwater...but that was a concern for later.

He watched as Nine bounded off to take his place next to Tails, who glanced at him with a wary-but-genuine smile. 'Ah, my young Knight in Shining Armour has arrived,' she sent with a tilt to her head, her coat somehow managing to look sleek and glossy despite their circumstances. Maybe it was naturally that glossy, what with her typing, or maybe her time in the Pokeball had saved her the roughness of the ocean. Either way, she certainly looked better than Gary did. Though her tone was her usually playful, coy self...it had just an undercurrent of strain and worry laced beneath it. She fixed her gaze back on Gary's stirring head. 'I am gladdened to see that you escaped unharmed, Monsieur.' She glanced at him with a small smile, a quick thing that was quickly replaced by a look of focus as she hit Gary with another dose of Hypnosis. Now was not the time to chat, of course; things were too dire for that. Though as a lady she couldn't rightly let her emotions get the better of her...she was worried about Gary. She needed to focus on keeping him safe and asleep.

Meanwhile, Dante had already led Cassie to the side of Gary, gesturing at the makeshift webbing bandage that his team had been able to construct. The top and sides were secured tightly to his scales, but the bottom part hung loose, trailing just a few inches above the ground. "We need to fasten this...to his underbelly," he explained slowly, gesturing with his good arm. "It needs to be tight...and secure. We will need to hold...the corners in place...in order for Ariel...to apply her webbing, followed by...the central point." He gestured to Syl to approach; she bounded up quickly, her ribbons moving to entangle the arm on his injured side in concern. His fingers flexed a little to scratch the back of her head reassuringly. "Once the webbing has been secured...my team will be able to apply the final overlay to keep it in place. Peridot," He looked at the smaller Pokemon currently pumping Healing Pulses into his body. He nodded at Gary. "Use your last few Pulses on Gary, please. He needs it more than I." He waited for everybody to get into position, then, then nodded as Ryu and Falcone got into position.

With a heave, Falcone used Strength to lift Gary's large, serpentine body above her head, hefting it in place. He stirred, of course, but a fresh wave of hypnosis - reinforced by Nine's presence - managed to quell him before he awoke. As Gary's midsection was hefted into the air, Dante pulled firmly on one side of the webbing bandage, more leaning backwards than heaving, keeping it tight as Ariel sprayed the side and corner with webbing. He let go as she reached the corner, of course, in order to prevent his hands becoming stuck to Gary's side, at which point Ariel moved on to Cassie's side. When that was completed, Dante hobbled forwards and - with Cassie's help - held the center of the bottom edge taut to repeat the process. He gestured for Cassie to move back, leaning on her as they moved out of the way. Syl reluctantly let go of his arm as he did so, moving to her position; Ariel quickly sprayed another layer of webbing around the width of Gary's body to keep the bandage in place, before creating a set of crisscrossing web ropes to go over the top.

When that was completed, she created an even thicker strand of webbing, firing it over the top of Gary's body. Syl caught it in her ribbons before it hit the sand and ran beneath Gary's underbelly, pulling it tight so that Ariel could web the two separate ends together. Dante nodded to himself.
"Reposition...completed," he said with some effort. Falcone nodded and began to slowly lower Gary's body back to the sand with a dull thud. Gary stirred again at the sudden shift and collision, but with the relatively fresh Nine assisting, he was nowhere near waking up. Dante breathed a sigh of relief as he recalled Gary back into his Pokeball. He'd heal faster outside of it, of course, but that required a relatively safe place. They'd explore and find a place, but for now, the safest place for Gary was recuperating in his Pokeball with his wound bandaged and cauterised. When he looked at Cassie this, some of the worry gone from his face; at least now, the wound was properly dressed. There was nothing else they could do other than let him rest. He gave her a slow, weary smile. "Thank you," he said. He didn't explain why. He knew he didn't have to. Gary was...family, basically, and he knew that Cassie of all people would understand that.

At the same time, Tails sat back on her haunches with obvious relief, the same tension gone from her expression as she absently groomed at her coat. She was anxious, of course - they were stranded; it would be the height of stupidity not to be - but no more so than she was any other time they found themselves in a tricky situation. Dante would get them out of it. He always did, after all, and there was no sense worrying about things you had no direct control over. When people started panicking, that was when disasters happened. She shook her tails to dislodge the sand and dirt from them, leaning forwards to stretch herself out and release some of the wound-up tension in her body. She looked up at Nine as she did so with a small smile.
'Well now. Now that we have a moment...how are you feeling, Monsieur?' She straightened herself up to all fours, moving to walk around him in a slow, graceful circle, eyes raking over his body carefully. He was an attractive young thing, well muscled and lively, but at that moment she was not admiring his sleek coat or powerful limbs.

Not this time, at least; after all, the last she'd seen him, he'd been dispatched to protect the refugees on the lifeboats and had been on the yacht when it went down. She was looking closely for any kind of injuries or wounds he had sustained that had thus far gone unattended.
You were protecting the refugees, were you not? A responsibility that took no small degree of courage.' She'd known that he was capable and well trained, of course, but you couldn't teach bravery. That he did so without question spoke well of him. She stopped her circling as she came to his front and looked him in the eye sternly. 'Are you injured at all?' The question was direct and firm. This was no time for beating around the bush, after all. She could tease and play with him later, but right at that moment...making sure that they were all relatively healthy and intact took precedent, and it was not the kind of question that you implied or teased. His safety came first. Once she knew that he was healthy...well, then the teasing would begin again. But not before.

On the other side of where Gary had just been, Dante was beginning to feel his weariness catch up with him. As his Pokemon each sat back and took a moment to rest, he himself was beginning to flag a little. He felt his knees tremble just slightly; he winced as his wound flared up again, and he found himself leaning back to collapse against a convenient rise in the sand. He gave a sharp grunt of pain at the sudden movement, but the discomfort did abate just a little; not being on his feet obviously made his gut wound a little easier to deal with. He had to grit his teeth to prevent crying out in pain, of course, but that was no different to any moment of the previous half an hour. Syl and Jason noticed, of course, and were at his side in an instant. Syl cautiously clambered into his lap, ribbons entwining around his good arm, Jason lying down on his injured side to give him something to lean on in support. He smiled and gave both of them an idle scratch behind the ears.

"It seems that we've earned ourselves a moment of rest," he mused ruefully as he looked up at Cassie. "We shall need to find shelter, of course. Give me a moment to catch my breath, and then we can begin charting our location." They were in a completely unknown land, after all; the sooner they got a feel for their surroundings, the better off they'd be. He was injured, yes. But he was also stranded with no means of escape. He'd be damned if he was just going to lie back and let everybody else do the work. If he didn't pull his weight, he'd be a burden, and all of their chances of survival went down. And that was unacceptable.
 
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Everything went by like a blur. She wasn’t quite sure when she stopped paying attention exactly, but at this point in her life, she supposed, it was like second nature. Switching off, going on autopilot to skip past the busywork, letting her body run through the motions while her mind toiled with something more productive. Planning and scheming. Let’s see. There were so many things to be done. Finding shelter, finding supplies, finding out where they were, and how they would get off. Alright, prioritize. First things first, scavenge the beach for stray supplies. Potions, ethers, bandages, clothes, blankets or pillows. Anything that would make their survival on this… Island, easier. And then, they needed to get an idea of where they were, how big the island was. She had a plan for that, though, the mist and the overcast might prove a challenge. From there, she would try to locate a water source, and high ground. They would hike there, or - if Peridot still has some Teleports left in her by then - they would teleport there. They’d set up camp and try to outlast their environment and their Pokemon’s injuries. If they could do that, they could leave the island. But in the meanwhile… They’d need to forage and hunt. She furrowed her brows, muscle twitching as her mind returned to her body. She blinked, and her vision returned. What was she doing? Oh… Fastening some sort of… gauze… to… A Gyarados- no, Gary’s… body. Hmm, alright. This is fine.

She did, however, watch with intrigue as Ari approached and sprayed the gauze with additional webbing to hold it. She wasn’t certain how well it would hold, but given Ariados webs were known to be quite formidable… She hoped it would be enough. Falcone and Ryu lifted the trunk of Gary’s body up and the little Sylveon ran underneath to pull a thick web rope underneath, which she and Dante secured. It was… Heavy work. Cassie never really realized how much effort went into caring for such large Pokemon. Granted, she had never personally worked with behemoths like Gyarados. Even the largest of her team members, Fang, did not need so much effort to toss and turn or pull together with the help of her other team members. But then, she supposed under normal circumstances, you didn’t need to go through these lengths. You would just return them to their Pokeball, and find a Pokemon Center. She knew a lot of people who would have just given up on Pokemon like Gary under such circumstances, but… Not Dante.

Meanwhile, Nine struggled to maintain an unbroken Hypnosis. It was one thing to hit them every once in a while, but in his experience – laughable, he supposed, when compared to his much older female counterpart – it was more effective to hold one and stretch it out for longer. It was difficult to explain, but he supposed the closest analogy was… It took more power to start a fridge than to keep it running. Of course, that being said, Tails’ pleasant greeting came as a bit of an unneeded distraction. Perhaps under different circumstances, when he was in a different mindset, mood and attitude, he would have found it charming and… Comforting. But right now, it was a distraction. He did not wish to appear rude, especially to a Ninetales clearly much older and experienced than him, but… He knew he should not make light of his own experience and skills too, just because he was younger. Besides, everything he had seen in his admittedly short lifespan was something that not every thousand-year-old Ninetales would see. He needed to be more confident, he knew that. Stand his ground more, be more assertive. He was a playful kit when things were right in the world, because that was what he was, but in dire situations… He was still a Ninetales nonetheless. Likewise. He responded curtly, and focused back on his task at hand. This was important to him. He didn’t trust the sleeping behemoth, and they did not walk across the ocean floor in a Protect bubble to get to the island only for Cassie to be eaten.

As they completed Gary’s reposition, and Dante looked at Cassie once again, but a great majority of the burden that weighed him down had gone. Knowing now that Gary had been properly – or as proper as they could be under their circumstances, at least – treated, and was safe. Even though he himself was not properly treated. Even if he himself was not safe. And despite herself, she felt a smile creeping on her lips. She was relieved. At him, not needing to worry so much anymore, and, at Gary, for having a better chance at survival. Gyarados were powerful and unpredictable. They bowed to no one, but this one… This one battled through a murder of its own kind, to save this human and these Pokemon he was nothing like. And that says something. She knew that her Pokemon did the exact same thing for her, and she had done the same thing for them. She was just fortunate that Ace was not too big to handle. Dante thanked her, but, it felt… Undeserved to her. After all, she didn’t really do anything needing thanks. It was all a given.

Gary was returned to his Pokeball, and Nine finally released his Hypnosis on the slumbering leviathan. Like Tails, he too let out a huff of relief, sitting back and closing his eyes a moment to rest them. He tried to evaluate how much PP he’d used just on the Gyarados, hoping that he at least had a bit left to spare in case of emergencies. If not, he supposed they could rely on Peridot, but, she was young – much younger than he was – and inexperienced. Well, it was fine. If he knew Cassie, then the first thing she would try to do was remedy that. Perhaps scavenge the shoreline for supplies, or, forage for berries. Perhaps both. Whatever it was, they would get through it. If they were together, they could do anything. He knew that for a fact, and being stranded in a misty island was a setback at most. As Tails spoke, however, Nine slowly opened his eyes and glanced at her, his eyes moving to grace her form as opposed to eagerly turning his head the way he did before. He needed to preserve energy. Tired. He answered curtly once again, then glanced away, letting out a sigh. It was the honest truth. They’d walked a long way before, and just looking at Cassie and knowing that she must be planning their next moves was tiring. That, and the fact that he was thinking of the same thing. After all, their bond was almost telepathic. Of course, his eyes were soon following Tails as she circled around him. He wasn’t quite sure what she was up to, but he let her be. Courage. He contemplated that word. Any Pokemon can do what I did, and I am certain any Pokemon would. If you were in my position, I am certain you would have done the same. After all, protecting refugees was a given, not a courageous act. However, I appreciate your concern, mademoiselle. Fortunately, I am unharmed. It takes more than a sinking ship to lay a scratch on me. His gaze focused on Cassie once more, as she went to Dante’s side. You’d be surprised how much we’ve had to endure. Finally, he looked at her. What about you, mademoiselle? Were you harmed?

Because if there was one thing Cassie knew for sure, it was that Dante still was. Despite the Heal Pulses that Ryu and Peridot had delivered, it still seemed that it hadn’t done enough to negate Dante’s pain. She had been watching his exposed wound dressing it seemed, while her mind was away, and she had been taking note on whether any new blood had come to stain it further, but… Much to her relief, it hadn’t. She wanted to think that the Heal Pulse had at least stopped his internal bleeding, and the pain came from new pain receptors formed on his skin and around his vital organs, which meant everything was functioning again. He just needed time to heal properly. She could think that all she wants, of course, but it did not stop her from worrying, or feeling distressed to see him in such pain. So much so that he could barely stand. His Pokemon were by his side in moments, just as Ryu had come to her side. She placed her good hand on his shoulder, and he held her steady. As for her pain, well… It was a constant, excruciating throb, coming in every now and again, but she had gotten extraordinarily good at experiencing pain. She took it as a sign of being alive, of everything working the way they should. The only times when the pain seized her were when her arm shifted, but she had gotten very good at isolating her body parts. Especially when they were injured. Practice makes perfect, after all. However, there wasn’t much she could do. She would prefer one more Heal Pulse to wipe out any scarring that would be left – she didn’t need to draw more unwanted attention to herself, and as a woman, you did not get the luxury of bearing your battle scars – but she knew she was out of luck. At least until they found a means to replenish some PP. But all the nerves, ligaments and muscles were still new, and the new skin covering it was still raw, and she was well aware that if she pushed too much… Well, she would leave the island without an arm. She needed to be careful.

Her solemn gaze eventually focused back on Dante, his Pokemon curled up around him and… Lifting her mood, just a little. There was always something cozy and… Comforting to be surrounded by your Pokemon. She hoped it made him feel better, because she knew she couldn’t. As much as she wanted to steady him as he faltered, she knew it would be bringing the fact that he was faltering in the first place to light. He would have wanted to handle it on his own, and she could tell when he was completely out of control and when he wasn’t. And right then, he was in control. So she simply just let him lean back on his own, sparing his dignity, and approaching him, after, as Ryu helped her settle down beside him. She did not say anything at first, simply letting his words hang in the air. She leaned her head back, to rest against the sand dune, and let out a long, tired breath. “I can’t believe I’m doing this again.” She murmured under her breath. Her eyes shifted lazily to him, and continued, “I don’t have the best experience with small, isolated islands.” She smiled sardonically, “The last time I was on one, it was all a very expensive ploy to have everyone killed by bloodthirsty Gigantamaxed Pokemon. It sounds ridiculous even when I say it.” She scoffed, and then smirked weakly, though, playfully, at him. She could do Gallows humour too. “As long as not everything is trying to kill us, I’m sure we’ll be fine. Take it as a survival trip, I suppose.”

Her cadence was slow, and tired. She looked on at the shoreline. “But take your time. In the meanwhile, we should send some of our Pokemon to look for any supplies that wash up on the shoreline. Potions, ethers, blankets, clothes, food if we’re lucky. My main priority would be to restore Ryu and Peridot’s Heal Pulses. I know that they’ve used it up completely between you, Gary, and I,” Even with the heightened limit of Ryu’s Heal Pulse thanks to the PP Max she’d given him back in her competitive days, but she wasn’t about to mention that, just in case. “And having a healing move could be the difference between life or death in a survival condition such as this. If nothing washes up on shore from the wreck, then we’ll need to find berries later on after we've found shelter. Oran, Sitrus, and Leppa should be enough, but if we can find Cheri, Rawst, Aspear, Chesto or Pecha, that would be helpful too.” She looked over at Peridot, who was skipping over to climb onto Ryu’s shoulders. “But in the meantime, Peridot and I will try to get an overview of the island.”

There was more for her to elaborate, of course, but in his current state, it would be best to take it slow. The situation was dire, and that was precisely why they needed to build good teamwork and synergy between them. Thus, she once again smirked playfully at him, "Unless you'd miss me too much if I left you too soon."
 
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Name: Dante E. Young
Location: Beach
Current Team: Jason, Tails, Gary, Falcone, Ariel, Syl

Tails regarded Nine closely. It was always interesting, hearing how people reflected on their own actions. Indeed, whilst actions spoke louder than words, it was also important to know how they viewed their own behaviour to truly understand them. Anybody could do the right thing, of course, but what mattered more was why they did the right thing. Some people believed that it shouldn't matter why you saved that baby from drowning; what mattered was that you it, right? A good deed was still a good deed regardless of the motivations. But that missed the larger picture. Knowing why somebody saved that baby would tell you whether they could be relied upon to do it again. It told you whether you could trust them, or whether you had better find somebody else to lean on in a time of crisis. Anybody could do the right thing when they knew that people would find out, after all, but how many people truly did the selfless, heroic, difficulty thing when they knew that nobody would know the difference? There was a phrase that she'd heard from Dante on more than one occasion; You are what you do in the dark.

So what was Nine when nobody was looking? Anybody could pretend to be heroic and selfless and loyal and brave, but when he knew that nobody would know whether he'd done the right thing or not, would he still think this way? Was this an honest opinion he was giving her, a glimpse into his psyche, or was it just what he wanted her to believe? Because he was wrong. Painfully so. It was a nice sentiment, to believe that any Pokemon would put himself at risk to save complete strangers instead of doing their damnedest to escape with their own lives, but anybody who had lived as long as she had knew that wasn't the case. There were just as many cowardly or apathetic pokemon as there were humans, just as many who would watch danger and disaster occurring without lifting a finger to help. They would convince themselves that it wasn't any of their business, that they couldn't really do anything to help, that they'd just be getting in the way, but it was just an excuse. It was always an excuse to avoid responsibility and risk. Was that concept truly alien to him, or was it just a carefully manufactured act?

She regarded him closely. He didn't seem to be leading her on. If the earnest, serious look in his eyes was anything to go by...he genuinely believed it. Admirable as that was, it was also kind of sad; Pokemon like him - let alone humans like him - were a rarity, and it was important that they knew just how uncommon they were. She sat down and looked at him carefully, tilting her head to one side. She reached up with her paw and began to groom herself carefully. 'I wish that were true, darling,' she sighed softly. There was something different about him. On the ship, he'd been all left feet and blushes, the image of adorable and awkward endearment. But here, in danger, after a battle...he had a steel to him. She'd seen glimpses of it before, so it was nice to know that she still had that knack for reading people. With a trainer like Cassie, she imagined that all of her Pokemon had that edge to them, but it had been a long time since she'd met another Ninetales who actually understood something of the world and its dangers...and one who was able to handle them head on. 'The world would be a far safer place were that the case. You should give yourself more credit.'

She shrugged a little, nonchalant; when you got as old as she was, and once you'd spent any amount of time with a trainer as adventurous and chronically heroic as Dante, you tended to experience your fair share of setbacks and life threatening situations. He'd get them out of it; he always did. In the meantime, he needed them to remain calm, and there was no point panicking about something you couldn't control. She shook her coat lightly to dislodge some of the sand that had gotten caught in it. She'd store that little tidbit about his own hardships away for later; it seemed like Dante was not the only trainer here that liked to get into trouble. 'I am unharmed, dear, thank you,' she said instead of commenting. 'You don't live as long as I do and grow up fragile. I do so wish that my first dip of the cruise was in the pool rather than the ocean, though.' Flippant perhaps, but gallows humour had its place. And if Nine was going to act the part of the serious survivor, why...it was almost required that she make a few jokes here and there. Not everybody had to be dour and grim, after all!

In the meantime, Dante took his time to recover from the exertion. He was not going to get many chances to rest until they were safe and fed, after all, so he should really make the most of the time he had. The injuries they had and were aware of were as patched up as they were going to get - he would have asked after Cassie more closely, but it was obvious that she had dealt with her own wounds in a far less messy manner than he had managed, and it would only be a waste of time to fuss over her; as worried as he was for her safety, mothering her was not going to help - and they were safe, for the moment. They would need to move soon, but they needed to work out a plan first. Really, the priorities were food, water and shelter. Preferably on high ground, but that was more optional than anything else. If they needed high ground, they could find it later after identifying a temporary base of operations; that was how exploration in survival situations worked.

They had superior numbers so ostensibly they could cover more ground while searching, but considering how tired, hungry and shaken they all were...he was loathe to split up too much too early. If they got turned around or lost, they could very well die, and he was not putting his Pokemon at any more risk than he had to. He looked up at her with a lifted eyebrow at her allusion to her past, though; whilst they hadn't been reunited for long, details about her difficult life had not been abundant. The fact that she was able to speak about such an event at all indicated to him just how much she trusted him, and he felt his heart go out to her. As much as the concept might indeed sound like a Saturday morning cartoon...well, so did half of the things he'd been through, and he knew that the absurdity only added to the terror. She laughed about it now, but he had to wonder...how deep did those particular scars run?

Now wasn't the time or place to ask her about it - they had more pressing matters to attend to - but he made a mental note to bring it up later. She was like him, and he knew himself well enough to know that whilst he would never voluntarily start that conversation, just somebody thinking to ask him about it would mean a lot, even if he refused. Sometimes, being there for somebody just meant letting them know that you were willing to listen, even if they weren't willing to talk. He offered her a small, gentle smile.
"Giant killer Pokemon?" he asked dryly, though his tone had a softer edge to it, dropping several decibels. Whilst he mirrored her apparent amusement, there was no mirth or enjoyment in his eyes. The ice melted just a little bit. "I think I saw that theme park poster when we were children." That much was true, though without the "Killer" part. He shook his head. "You'll have to tell me about that later." He met her gaze in that moment, and it was clear that he wasn't talking about a storytime; he could tell how much it had affected her, and he wasn't going to let her spend another day without somebody to share that experience with.

But they didn't have time right now. She was right; they needed to get a move on. He let her talk, laying out the priorities, and he found that they were in complete agreement; it was a far cry from the young girl who'd always run after him and Grace, following after them on whatever madcap idea Grace had gotten into her head that day. She'd been so...small and uncertain back then. She'd put up a front of confidence, but like all of them, she'd just been a kid caught up in a world she didn't understand. To see her standing there now, taking charge, laying out plans, directing traffic without missing a beat? He was proud of her. She'd grown a lot in their time apart, and as sad as he was knowing what kind of hell she had to have gone through for her to be able to take all of this perfectly in stride...he couldn't help but also feel a swell of happiness, too. She'd always said she wanted to be a world-class trainer. She'd always wanted to be faster, stronger, tougher, smarter...and here she was. He knew her well enough to know that she likely didn't believe it herself, but...she'd succeeded. And if there was anybody in the world he'd want to be stuck on an island in the middle of nowhere with, it was her. Unless the other option was "A man with a phone," he supposed.

But time was short, and they needed to use their time sensibly. He nodded slowly.
"In any case, we are agreed," he said slowly, considering, "Salvage should be our first priority, followed by shelter." He scratched Jason behind his ears, earning a low growl, as his eyes raked over the shore and the nearby treeline. "We should send out teams of three in either direction to scour the shoreline. I would suggest that they remain within a certain distance at all times; we do not know the terrain, the flora, the fauna or the ecosystem of this island. It would not do to disturb any of the local Pokemon until we have our bearings. We can explore further once we've established a base of operations." They had no idea what was out there, after all, so whilst they needed berries to replenish their energy...they could not risk doing so without a safe location to retreat to in the event of trouble.

"We will also need to find landmarks to orientate ourselves if we want to range further afield."
He nodded to himself as he pushed himself into a kneeling position. He winced a little at the sudden movement, but forced it aside roughly. Now was not the time to allow his injury to get the better of him, but she did force a smile from him once again at her little tease. As odd as it might sound...her playfulness about the situation helped. It made things feel a little less dire. Though he still needed a moment to catch his breath...he was glad that she was able to retain her sense of humour. It gave him something other than the throbbing pain in his gut to focus on. He offered her a wry smile to mask the discomfort. "I believe that technically, we are still on a date," he said dryly, "so I'll consider this akin to powdering your nose." He leaned forwards and gestured for Ariel to approach. She turned from where she was sitting and began to scuttle her way over. Perhaps it wasn't the best time for a joke, but if Cassie was allowed to employ a bit of gallows humour, then so was he. He was the man with the gut wound, after all. Besides, the more laid back he appeared, the better off his Pokemon's morale was...and in a situation like this, morale was often the first thing to go.

But he hadn't failed to notice that she hadn't mentioned precisely what she had in mind. There were a number of ways she could scout, of course, ranging from the vague to the insane given Kirlia's numerous psychic abilities, so he wasn't certain which way she was leaning. He could hazard a guess, of course, but that seemed entirely pointless considering he could just...ask. He glanced up at her as Ariel approached, chittering curiously. He had a purpose for her, of course, but one thing at a time. He continued speaking. "That is, of course, if you tell me what you have in mind. Knowing you, it's something magnificently insane." Like riding a Pokemon straight into the heart of a Murder of Gyarados, for example. Even on a normal day, he had no doubt that there was never a dull moment around her. He kinda liked that about her, honestly; so many other people were depressingly mundane. Much as he might complain about it sometimes, he did like excitement. He didn't leave on a Pokemon journey to stick strictly to the roads and never take any risks, now did he?

"In any event, we shall need something to carry our supplies in, assuming we find any." Though others might have included bitterness in that statement, his voice was devoid of any of that; it was galling, yes, that he had been crippled so thoroughly...but it was what it was. He was injured. He was at a reduced capacity. There was no point getting annoyed about something he couldn't fix. "I shall handle that." He grunted and grit his teeth as he shifted, then, pushing himself to a more upright kneeling position; the wound still throbbed, and having to use Jasons fire to cauterise was not helping. As useful as their permanently-scarring flame was, it made it tricky to use it in a medical capacity when the burn would keep hurting for far longer than was usual. Still, beggars couldn't be choosers. He heaved a sigh, and looked down at Jason. "Jason, take Tails and Syl. Salvage 3. Stay on the beach for now," he said simply.

They were used to salvaging and scouring the area, after all; Jason, Syl and Tails would head out. They'd go to the edge of visual contact range with the "Home location," scouring the area as they went along. Syl would remain there, and Tails and Jason would move until they could only just see Syl on the horizon. After that, Jason would stay there, and Tails would move out, creating a kind of snaking line of visual points of contact. Once that had been completed, they'd return in the reverse order, thereby reducing the risks of being on their own in an alien environment. Jason looked up at him and nodded, though he could feel through the contact with her ribbons that Syl was more reluctant to leave. He gave her a gentle fussing, and smiled.
"Do not worry, Syl. Falcone and Ariel will remain behind to protect me. I need you to look after the other two."

There was a sound that might have been a muffled scoff from Jason, but he ignored it. After a moment, Syl nodded and released him, jumping off of his lap with one last little mewl of concern. He looked up at Cassie, realising that he'd already begun giving orders. He offered a belated half-smile, as if acknowledging his assumptions.
"My team will take the northern stretch. You came from the south, so your team will be more familiar with the terrain." He paused, and allowed a small single-syllable chuckle to escape his lips. "Unless they would find retreading old ground tedious, that is." He offered her a slightly teasing lift of the eyebrow with that remark. But joking aside...he needed her approval. Teamwork meant consensus, after all, synergy, not just bulling ahead on your own and assuming your partner would be ok with it. He was used to doing things on his own, but now...now he didn't need to. That was going to take some getting used to for the both of them, he would imagine.
 
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And in response, the male Ninetales simply shrugged his shoulders, his ruby eyes taking in the expanse of the seemingly endless, ominous woods ahead of them. He contemplated what she’d said in response to his statement, and… He can’t help but wonder if she was interpreting what he said the way that he intended or viewing the situation the way he was viewing it. The way she was viewing it, it seemed like she saw the act as more valiant and noble than, in his opinion, what it really was, and that the connotations in his statement were branching to an entirely different path from what he’d intended. His eyes fell on her once more, curiously, and he voiced his pondering in an almost amused tone, You see my actions as something noble and selfless.

He can’t help but chuckle at that. But that isn’t what I intended at all. I simply meant any Pokemon obedient enough to their trainer would follow any order given to them. I couldn’t really care less about those people. A certain… flicker danced at the corner of his eyes. Like a dark flame. Something more in place with a Dark Type. But I do care about my trainer. I was simply aiming to make her work easier. Unfortunately, it is morally apprehensible to abandon a sinking ship filled with passengers, and I’m certain that that is not what my trainer would want to do when she seems keen on courting your trainer, who seems to be my Lucario companion in human form. And as he says this, his tone is light-hearted. Almost amused.

As she continued further, more questions filled his mind. He was only fifty, that was true, so despite his experiences, he can never quite match the experience she undoubtedly would have gained through her centuries of living. There were many questions he could ask, but… There was only one that he really felt he needed the answer to. Have you outlived a trainer before? His gaze was glued on her closely. What is that like?

As for Cassie, well… What was there to say, really? She was unhappy no matter where she was, less in certain places than others, but that was like saying the sea had more water during high tide. There was no real escape or reprieve from the constant exhaustion she felt, having to give it her all a hundred percent of the time just to survive, and, perhaps it was why she had such a hard time relaxing. Simply because she was wired to always be on the run, finding the next shiny distraction – whatever they may be; men, clothes, jewellery, extreme sports - to draw her attention away from all the ugly, unpleasant emotions and memories she had inside of her. They were always with her, but at the very least, she didn’t have to be aware of them. Distractions were her painkillers. They won’t address the problem causing the pain, but it will stop her from feeling it. At least temporarily.

And at this point, well… Pain itself had become a distraction. When she was hurting, physically or emotionally, all she had to worry about was that pain, at that moment in time. The more pain and discomfort she felt, the less her mind could wander those broader thoughts, the farther recesses of her abyss. It had become a negative feedback loop, and she was purposefully hurting herself to stay afloat. But this island… It was a dilemma for her. It brought her discomfort in a way that reminded her of those broader thoughts, the memories in the far reaches of her mind. As if… Forcing her to confront it. And she hated that. It had become one of the little ways she coped and - though she was fully aware of how destructive it was - even that had been taken away from her.

And perhaps, that in itself was a blessing in disguise. Her therapist had attempted to discourage it time and time again, but it was also difficult for her to really take what she said to heart because, at the end of the day, she was just just a stranger to her. A highly trained professional stranger taught to say those things. She didn't know her, and if she didn't know her, then, how could she really care about her? She was just a client to her, and there were many people just like her, and because of that, everything she said was disingenuous to her ears. Her therapist never felt any real sympathy for her when she went on her long spiels about how she felt. The only thing she cared about was getting her out of the office and eventually, out of her service permanently. It was her job, and there were boundaries, and that wasn't what she needed. A therapist couldn't be her friend or someone she could lean on. And it was for that exact reason that she never did get better.

But the way Dante was looking at her now, how serious he looked when she had said what she said. It... Astonished her. His tone was amused, but, it was an echo of her own amusement. Fainter, more dilute. The conversation's tone had shifted in a way she hadn't expected, simply because she had never expected anyone to take her hardships seriously. People looked at her and thought... Well, that's just Cassie. She'll get over it. And, that was possibly how she began to see her troubles too. As just... Minor inconveniences that she was always meant to have. Like her troubles and her pain were all part of who she was. She believed that too. But Dante looked at her, and he saw a person who was hurting, and he was genuinely willing to listen just because he wanted to listen. He wasn't outwardly offering help or a way to "move past this obstacle" as her therapist would often say. And that... Made her want to cling to that offer with both fists because... If anyone would understand, or... Just... Tolerate her weakness for a few minutes, it was Dante. She remembered the letters they used to write with each other, how she would check the mailbox three times a day to see if he'd responded to her, being able to tell him anything that was on her mind, she missed it. The safety he'd given her once, a long time ago, the words of comfort he'd send her back. It was as if nothing had changed, and... It was always hard for her not to fall back to old habits. She didn't want to tell him later. She wanted to tell him now.

“I-” She began, but she snapped her mouth shut just as quickly. Was this the right time? How would it make her seem to suddenly make it all about her? And more, re-telling the story meant re-visiting the memories and unresolved feelings she had for it. It had been a good few years since it happened now, but, it will never stop being a difficult memory to tame. Instead, her mind flickered to the poster he mentioned, at the theme park they used to visit as kids. She remembered riding a “big kid” ride once and crying because she got so scared. Her mother was very ashamed, and she was very embarrassed about crying in front of Dante and Grace. But Grace had hugged her, told her she could pick a ride that she liked next, and Dante wiped away her tears. And he told her it was okay to be scared. He had been too. She hung on to that warmth, like a dying ember in a cold winter's night, and she swallowed, wetting her dry throat. "Okay."

It was a small relief to hear that he approved of her plan, however, and her eyes travelled back to him to pay closer attention to his input, nodding in agreement. It felt… Good, to not have to do everything herself. Especially when that was what she had always been used to. Yes, she had her Pokemon to support her, but, for the most part, she was always the one coming up with a plan. She’d never needed to work collaboratively with anyone before. But, if there was anyone she could do that with, it was Dante. At that moment, she wondered about his experiences. What sort of adventures he’d gotten himself into, if he was happy with his life, what he wanted to do, where he wanted to go. He was older than her, yet, she could tell he still had so much more to offer the world and a long, incredible journey ahead. Ever since they were kids, she always knew he was destined for great things, and a part of her had been afraid he’d fly too high out of her reach, and he’d forget her. But now, she found, she still was. She had just stepped into her twenties, and she had already hit her ceiling. The damage had been done, and the life she could have lived had been stolen from her. Though it could be argued that she had reclaimed it… It will never be the same. Her name will always have that stigma associated with it and people will always be casting her a sideways glance no matter where she went.

And she was already living much longer than she was supposed to.

She supposed all she was really doing was delaying the inevitable, and crossing some things off her bucket list while she waited. And meeting Dante E. Young again, after all these years, had been one of them. But what she hadn’t expected, was that she would feel the same way now as she did then. Especially when he had grown into the man he was now; strong, intelligent, and reliable. If she were in a better place, perhaps she could have had him, but… Surely that was also an opportunity that had been lost, wasn’t it?

As he moved to a kneeling position, her hand instinctively reached out to stop him, but, it hung in midair, and dropped back down, letting him go. He wanted to get up, so he should be allowed to. He was a grown man, and he could take care of himself. Babying him would make it seem like she thought otherwise, or worse, that she thought she knew better. That would be the most hypocritical thing she could possibly do, considering what she was planning. If she was going to drop herself out of the sky with a broken arm, then, he could get up with an abdominal injury. She smirked wryly at his response. A date… With Dante. It sounded harsh, but, she hadn’t really considered the possibility that their meet-up had been a date. She had seen it as a business meeting; she wanted something out of him that wasn’t necessarily romantic in nature, but… Seeing it in that new perspective made her nervous and shy in a way she hadn’t been in a very long time. It made her feel like she was a little girl again, and those years had never been lost. Going on a date with Dante. Her younger self would have died of happiness and nervousness. Her current self… Desperately wanted to impress him. “Let’s hope I don’t, for the sake of my own dignity.” She murmured, with a small smile on her face. “I’m going to have Peridot teleport me several thousand feet into the sky, and while I’m falling, I’m going to try and scout for an ideal camping ground. Hopefully, the mist isn’t so bad from above.” ‘Otherwise, I might be landing a bit too abruptly. She added in her mind, but, Dante didn’t need to hear that.

He suggested making a sack to carry their items in, which was certainly something she would have forgotten otherwise. “Good idea.” She nodded. Though there was no bitterness, nor a hint of a begrudging tone in his voice, she also knew him well enough that she knew he hated the thought of not being able to do more. That he was possibly a burden. She could see it in the resigned look in his eyes, and so, she knelt down next to him, catching his gaze after he’d uttered a command to his Pokemon and convinced Syl to leave, and she smiled softly at him. It wasn’t the brightest or most genuine smile, but… She knew that if she smiled, he would too. And that was all she wanted. “I'll be back soon.” But her eyes said something else. And what they said was, 'Thank you.' And just before she pressed rose to her full height again, she pressed a soft, chaste kiss to his cheek. A spark of electricity rushed through her chest, one that made her heart flutter with warmth in her chest, making her feel less... Heavy. Like it was easier to go on. Her lips on his sculpted cheek, she relished the sensation, and it ended too soon when she eventually pulled away.

“Come along, Peridot.”
A soft coo left the small creature as she hopped up onto Cassie’s shoulder. “Ryu, Nine, you heard the man. Go back down the southern trail and scavenge for any useful supplies.” With her free hand, she unclipped a Pokeball from her belt and released a certain feline back into the open. “And take Lady with you.”

Nine and Ryu’s immediate response was to roll their eyes and growl out what sounded like a groan - like two siblings who had just been told they needed to take their younger sister with them to the store - while Lady stretched herself over the sand and purred. Cassie just chuckled and reached down to scratch the Liepard under her chin, to which she purred happily. “Come now. You know she’s good at finding shiny things, aren’t you, you little brat?” She grinned mischievously, and Lady snapped at her hand playfully, though she didn’t quite bite into it. Mouthing it more like, which was already quite a significant improvement considering her earlier days. “Alright, go on now. And boys,” She looked at the Lucario and Ninetales, “Make sure she doesn’t get distracted.”

In response, Nine merely huffed while Ryu once again rolled his eyes. Nonetheless, they took off down the southern trail. Cassie turned her attention back to Peridot and smiled softly. “Ready?” With her affirmative coo, Cassie glanced over at Dante, and gave him a two-finger salute with her functioning hand, a soft smile on her face, just as she vanished from where she stood.
 
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Name: Dante E. Young
Location: Beach
Current Team: Jason, Tails, Gary, Falcone, Ariel, Syl

Tails regarded Nine closely, head tilted with curious contemplation. What had been intended as a compliment had instead revealed something really rather curious about the younger Ninetales, and she wasn't entirely sure what to make of it. He was correct, of course, that an obedient Pokemon would follow their trainers orders to the letter, but was that all that they were? Just mindless tools to be used as their Trainers saw fit, nothing more than beasts that were never supposed to have their own opinions and ideals? She didn't think so. Perhaps she'd misjudged this young man. Was he the kind to simply give his trainer blind obedience and unquestioning loyalty? Admirable in its way, certainly, but dangerously naive and depressingly lacking in any kind of independence or moral, principled fibre. It was one thing to trust your trainer, but there was a line, surely? Trust extended only so far, and surely a Pokemon reserved the right to refuse an order that went against their own moral code. But blind obedience and unthinking faith did not explain Nine's own espoused beliefs. No, there was something...deeper there.

It wasn't that he wanted to save the people on the boat but he would have refrained had his trainer not ordered him to do so. It was that he himself didn't care about what happened to those innocent people, and that he only got involved because his Trainer told him to. That was a small distinction, but it was important. It indicated a level of cynicism and general misanthropy that was rare in one as young as him, and it was the kind of attitude that did not develop in a vacuum. He was capable of acting valiantly and capably, which indicated that he was not a coward or an inherently malicious individual. So obviously, something had happened to shape his attitude to be one of such selfish apathy. She would wager that there was no small amount of pain there, and she was curious whether his espoused beliefs were accurate...or it was merely the jade that had encrusted his heart that was protesting too loudly against the compassionate beating that lay underneath. He was a regular puzzlebox, was Nine, and she wouldn't know what to make of him until she managed to get a peek inside.

She opened her mouth to answer him in some way - perhaps to probe for clues or disagree with his worldview to provoke him into revealing more (people often ended up giving much more away than they intended when challenged) - but her own trainer saw fit to interrupt their conversation with an order. Of course, he couldn't know that she was talking, and given their situation, it would not do to delay. Had she outlived a trainer? Well. That would be telling, now wouldn't it? She probably had at this point, though she hadn't heard of her previous trainers death. Thinking about it...yes, the older woman had likely passed away at this point, but that was ok. They'd had lots of good times together, and death was a part of life. She was sad that she would never get to see her old friend again, of course, but she lived a long, full life and they'd gotten to bid each other farewell...so she had no regrets. How many people could say that? She gave Nine a small, knowing smile. 'Perhaps I'll tell you later, sweetheart. Some discussions are best saved for the second date, non?' She gave him a sly, playful wink before she gathered herself up, flicked her tails teasingly and sauntered away to take instruction from Dante.

In the meantime, Dante was gratified to see that at least some of his meaning had come across to Cassie. He wasn't always the best at connecting with people - oftentimes, he'd opt to forgo human interaction entirely, much preferring to spend time with his Pokemon instead - and so he often came across as more robotic or aloof than he might otherwise intend. But with Cassie...it had always been a little easier. Perhaps it was because they'd known each other for so long? She knew him back when he was nothing but another wide-eyed child, looking at the world through the lens of somebody who had no idea the size and scope that life could have. He'd had his troubles and he'd always been a weird, distant kid, but he hadn't been through even half the things he'd been through as an adult. The things that pushed him away from people in general...she knew him before any of that happened and vice versa, which somehow made it easier to relax around her. He couldn't really explain it, honestly. It was just a feeling that...he knew her, she knew him, they knew each other before the world had tried to beat them down and that that reminder of who they were before and the sight of the other one standing there, strong and unbent...it gave him hope, and strength. It made him feel - however briefly - that maybe he wasn't quite as alone as he'd thought.

And that was a powerful thing.

Isolation could be a strength, but it could also be a crippling flaw. Those who stand alone, fall alone. But having even one person that you could reach out and make contact with, one person who could make you feel like you didn't have to be in it alone? That could make all the difference in the world. Because those demons preyed on your feelings of hopelessness and loneliness and despair. And as everybody knew...it was much harder to feel alone and lost when you were with friends. Cassie had been through a lot, and he could tell just by looking at her in those half-moments between her forced, hollow smiles that it was far, far worse than the reports he'd read had indicated. If he'd only heard about half of the things that had happened to her, then the weight she was carrying on her shoulders was staggering indeed and it was a wonder that she was still upright at all. Well. This was one experience she would not have to deal with on her own. He had fallen out of contact with her for far too long, and he was not going to make that mistake again. She...she was his friend, his oldest one, and he owed it to her to support her however he could. She'd always throw herself headlong into danger - that was just who she was, and it was one of the things he had always loved about her; that fearless, adventurous, never-say-die spirit - and he would never dream of stopping her. So what else was there to do other than jump in alongside her?

Speaking of jumping into danger...yhup, her plan sounded about as insane as he had expected. It was an intelligent use of their lack of resources, of course, but it was also potentially disastrous if she miscalculated or mistimed any single part. He frowned a little, and made a mental note to keep an eye on her. At the very least, if things did go wrong perhaps he could get Ariel to make some kind of landing pad for her to give her some kind of margin for error. He shook his head, then lifted an eyebrow at her.
"As I said. Magnificently insane." He gave a wry, rueful look. "If things go wrong, I shall instruct Ariel to attempt to construct one of those hand-trampolines to catch you." He wasn't going to lie, the image of a group of Pokemon rushing back and forth carrying a webbing-trampoline to catch a falling Cassie was a rather amusing thought, taken out of the context of potential death. He could almost hear the background music. He turned to his task...and then felt Cassie's presence as she bent down towards him.

He looked around, and as he did so he felt the soft brush of her warm lips gliding across his cheek, sending a tingling warmth down his spine. He blinked in surprised as he processed what he was feeling...and then the jolt of electricity passed through him, that same pulse as when he had touched her on the cruise ship, that sudden jolt of contact that struck him out of the blue and drove all thought from his mind. Before he could stop himself, he felt a small smile splitting his lips as a pulse of warmth passed across his chest. He cared about her, obviously, and the woman she'd grown into was one that coaxed him in with every breath and movement....but the emotional contact, the vulnerability that she showed by flashing that small smile of gratitude...it did more to make him smile than anything else, and he had to imagine that if she'd spent any time watching his reaction, she likely would have seen a half-second of a goofy smile spreading across his face. He quickly schooled his expression, of course, and inclined his head slightly in wordless acknowledgement of her gratitude. It was what friends did, after all, was it not?

He was still smiling when she vanished from sight, the point of contact on his cheek still burning with the intensity of a bloody star, sending pulses of warmth through his body. His heart skipped a beat as he considered what it might mean, but he forced himself to focus. No. He could daydream like a schoolboy with a crush later, but for now, he had a job to do. It wasn't much, but by Arceus he wasn't going to allow himself to be a burden. He had to concentrate. He shook himself and pointed at the treeline.
"Falcone. We need sticks, logs and leaves. The larger and sturdier, the better." Falcone nodded and lumbered her way off towards the treeline nearby while Dante cleared a small, diveted spot in the sand. He heard several loud, cracking, snapping sounds - presumably as Falcone kicked down a small tree or two - before she made her way back over with a large armful of assorted logs, leaves and smaller sticks. It seemed that she had indeed essentially ripped up several trees and shattered them into smaller chunks and lengths of uneven wood. Not the most delicate of solutions, but then, delicate solutions were not always the best. As he had learned long ago, if something sounds stupid but works, then it isn't stupid.

He quickly set to separating the logs and sticks out, finding the two longest ones and laying them out on either side of the wide divet. He nodded at Ariel, who quickly connected them with a layer of webbing as he and Falcone held them in place. Next, after flipping the makeshift platform over, he placed a layer of the larger, sturdier leaves over the top of the webbing. That way, if something did slip through the web strands, it would be caught by the leaves and stopped from falling out. Another layer of webbing went over the top of that, of course, at which point he had Falcone hold it up ready for one last wrap-around layer of webbing to keep everything sturdy and together. What resulted was something largely resembling a carry-pouch with two long, uneven poles running along the length, sticking out a little way to give whoever was carrying it a handhold to keep it steady. He had Falcone hold it in place as he and Ariel web-leaf-webbed either end of it to keep things from rolling out, of course, at which point he set to work on the frame.

See, he and Cassie weren't going to be able to carry it all the time, and sometimes they would need it to be transported by their Pokemon. Falcone was bipedal and could likely carry it steady on her own, but their more feline and canine companions? They'd find it harder. If he made a frame, it would keep the bundle steady and would also allow him to mount it on Ariel, given her wider base. This was achieved pretty easily, of course, by just webbing several of the smaller sticks together in an arch on the underside of the sling. They didn't fasten it to the sling; rather, they made two little crooks for the poles on either side to sit, so they could mount it and tie it, then cut it when convenient. When it was completed, he directed Falcone to test it out; after mounting the small frame to the back of Ariel, they lay the sling across the provided indents, effectively turning the Ariados into something resembling a packmule. It would be easier if they had a more equine Pokemon with them, but...you worked with what you had.


"How does that feel, Ariel? Stable? Comfortable?"
She let out a soft chittering noise that he took to mean that it wasn't all that obstructive; it seemed that her legs could move properly, and though she'd have to be careful about tipping it one way or the other, an experimental walk around him in a wide circle didn't seem to provoke any kind of imbalance or collapse...until she came to a stop, at which point the sling and frame leaned forwards dangerously, as if it were about to topple forwards. He frowned. That was annoying, but not unsolvable; he'd just need to add some forward-facing supports to brace it against sudden stops. He nodded to himself. Well. At least he could make himself useful somehow. There was still the question of a cover to keep things from bumping and jostling off over the edges, of course, but that was the hard part done. He sighed and gestured to the treeline again, sending Falcone stomping off once more. They were going to need some more leaves.
 
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The world shifted. Disappearing and reappearing in the blink of an eye, changing abruptly, and as much as you would try to anticipate it, without warning. That was the thing with humans and teleportation. As creatures who were never meant to teleport, no matter how often it happened, no matter how many times you’ve done it, you will never quite be accustomed to it. You just got better at shrugging off the whiplash and confusion. It was both a disgrace and a testament to mankind, to be so weak and yet be so good at inserting themselves where they didn’t belong. If that was truly all it took to be human, then… Perhaps she was more human than she gave herself credit for.

From misty shores, Cassie now saw foggy skies, and the sensation of falling too was sudden and abrupt. The cold of the atmosphere bit mercilessly into her damp, exposed skin, and she hollered in excitement at the lurch, the initial thrill, the first big drop of a rollercoaster ride. She laughed at fear, at the possibility of death, and she laughed at the biting cold threatening to freeze her solid. She was falling, laughing, and Peridot was falling with her, clinging tightly to her neck. “I hope you teleported us high enough, Dottie!” She exclaimed while Peridot could only respond in a shrill screech. The clouds and the fog began to part before them, revealing the island below. And what she saw… surprised her more than she was expecting. The island was not just an island. It was huge. So large in fact, that she could not see the other end, nor even the end of the stretching coast, from the distance she had been dropped from the sky, which, she could only assume to be slightly above cloud-level, as she could not see anything before she’d fallen through them.

What she was seeing then, was a landmass large enough to be its own region. With other smaller islands – but no less sizable - faintly visible in the horizon through the thick fog. How had nobody, not even leading researchers with their satellites and top-of-the-line equipment found this landmass before? Or at the very least speculate on its existence? She supposed the thick, ever-present, unyielding mist cover would have played a big role. If it hadn’t been there, Cassie figured she would have been able to see more of this mysterious new region, but it seemed not to reveal its secrets that easily. However, as big of a discovery it was, and as exciting as the possibilities were, the main goal now was to make sure they could survive long enough to tell the tale. And so, her eyes scanned the area near the shoreline, where she could faintly make out the tiny silhouettes of Dante and their Pokemon, splitting up and covering more ground. She turned her focus to the trees, however. The vast stretch of forest spanning far into the distance. She tried to look for rivers and then elevated areas near those rivers.

There.

A clearing on a hill, just a few yards away from a river flowing by the foot of it, which ran all the way through to the sea. It was a bit of a walk from where they were currently based, but, it was nothing compared to a trek up any Victory Road. They could handle it. All they needed to do was get to the estuary and follow the river to the hill. Alright, easy enough. As her eyes scanned through the area one last time, memorizing landmarks and notable features to help guide them to their destination, Cassie reminisced her time in Jinko. Being trapped in the wilderness with nothing but your Pokemon and the shirt on your back. Having to survive against the odds, and… The people she had met there. The moments they’d shared. She felt herself drowning in those memories, the feelings of loss and longing, the trauma and regrets, but the ground was approaching. Fast. Fortunately, she was pulled back in time by Peridot’s panicked squeal, reminding her that death was imminent. “Teleport us back, Dot. On the ground.”

A shaky, frightened coo left Peridot as the Kirlia clung tighter onto her neck. The trees were beginning to fill her vision, but just before they made contact, it all disappeared, fizzling away to coarse sand and rock. For a moment, she felt as if she were suspended in midair. Motionless. Weightless. And once her weight fully manifested, the rocks and broken pieces of seashells began to dig into her side and exposed limbs, alerting her to the fact that she was in the clear. Her breath left her in a huff as her heart pounded in her ears. She felt Peridot release her chokehold around her neck and drop onto the sand next to her, and Cassie simply laid there for a moment, feeling the twinge and stabs of her injured shoulder, and ultimately trying to figure out how she was going to get up without disturbing it. She sighed, for a moment, simply closing her eyes. Listening to the tides crash and lap onto the shore. She listened to Dante as he spoke, sometimes to himself, sometimes to his Pokemon. His voice sounded so different now, yet, occasionally there would be words he would say that made her think he’s barely changed at all. He was so grown up now. A man with his entire life figured out, his childhood dreams achieved. Meanwhile… She felt as if she’d hardly gotten anywhere. However, that wasn’t the brunt of it, no. The painful part of it was that she had been somewhere. Somewhere she was proud of. Somewhere she had wished he could see her in. But it had all been taken away, and he saw her now instead of when she had just been able to pull herself back to where she had started. Still with the same fear that he had outgrown her.

After a few seconds, she found the motivation to push herself off the ground – that is, after Peridot had leaned over to check up on her – and with a bit of grunting and wincing, she was sitting upright, and getting to her feet. She tried to brush the sand and debris off her skin as best as she could, but there was really only so much she could do. She turned and began to approach Dante, where she realized he had been building… Something on his Ariados. It looked like a platform and a saddle all in one. She tilted her head a little as she approached. Well, if they’re going to be carrying supplies, it would be helpful to have something to carry it with! Clever and practical. She would have expected no less from Dante. But, she should still see if he needed help with it. Neither of them was in the best condition, after all, and the last thing she wanted was for his wound to split open from overworking himself. “Whatcha got there, Macguyver?” She said playfully. “Need a hand with anything? Luckily for you, I’ve still got one to spare.” With a lighthearted smirk, she raised her uninjured hand and wiggled her fingers. If she couldn’t match his status and achievements, at the very least she would match his wit, damnit.
 
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Name: Dante E. Young
Location: Beach
Current Team: Jason, Tails, Gary, Falcone, Ariel, Syl

Much as he tried not to allow it to, he felt his mind drifting towards what Cassie was planning as he worked. That was the problem with manual labour; as long as your fingers knew roughly what they were doing, it was easy for somebody's mind to drift to more abstract concerns than just what he was doing with his hands. That was even more true when you found yourself in a lull between actions and you were forced to wait on somebody else before you could continue your task. So, as Dante awaited Falcone's return with more supplies for the construction of their sling, he felt his eyes drifting up to the foggy, misty sky, wondering where Cassie was amongst it and whether - if he looked closely enough - he could see her as she fell. He knew he wouldn't be able to see her unless something went tragically wrong, of course, and he knew that if he saw her in time to see it going wrong, he wouldn't have the time necessary to do anything about it. The thought was sickening in its violence, imagining her not being able to pull out of the fall in time, or something going wrong with her Kirlia's ability to teleport so he pushed it down as much as he could...but the fact remained that it left a sickening, sinking feeling in his stomach just considering the possibility.

There was, of course, the fact that that would leave him alone on the island with only his Pokemon, which reduced his chances of survival drastically. But that was only the logical, immediate concern. He had handled worse situations with less supplies before, after all, so he was certain he could at least make a decent show of trying to make it through. No, what left that sickly sensation in the pit of his stomach, that toxic bile that crept up his throat, the cold, icy hand that seized his heart and squeezed until he felt like the veins were going to burst and give him a heart attack was simply...the idea of losing her. They'd always been close, even as kids, and it was one of his biggest regrets - and biggest shames - that he had allowed them to fall out of contact the way that they had. Whilst this reunion was not exactly going the way he might have liked...it was a reunion nonetheless, and to have it end in tragedy? To lose her so soon when they were so close to reconnecting? It was not a thought he wanted to dwell on. He would push onwards, of course - he always did - but there would always be a piece of him missing if he were to lose her. So...since there was logically nothing he could do to prevent her plan from going wrong, he did his best to distract himself from it instead.

Thankfully, it seemed that he didn't have to entertain that notion much longer, since that was when Falcone returned from her most recent foraging mission with a collection of logs, branches, leaves and vines for the most recent addition to the hamper-like harness. She deposited all but one in front of him - keeping hold of a larger, more gnarled looking piece of wood that seemed more like a large, thick root than an overhanging branch; he gave her an odd look, but shook it off. Falcone had never struck him as the type to want to play with sticks, but...it wasn't one he was going to use anyway, so no matter. Instead, he wasted no time in turning his mind to the task at hand, bundling several of the smaller branches together, tying them with vine and webbing and then using Ariel's stringshot to fix them into place on the front and back of the frame. There was the odd sound of Falcone's drill whirring loudly as he worked for a few seconds before coming to a stop, pausing for a moment, then beginning again. He wondered what she was working on, but...well, he had his own job, and he didn't need Falcone at that exact moment, so he could allow her whatever distraction she had found. He'd find out what she was doing later anyway, he was sure. In the meantime, he tested the security of the harness, rocking and pulling and pressing down on it to gauge its stability, and whilst there was a little give and a little wobble here and there, it seemed sturdy enough to be usable.

Besides, you needed a bit of give to aid in durability; if something could flex and bend a little, it was less likely to snap or break under a sudden application of weight or force. It was when he was lifting it slowly into place atop Ariel that he heard movement from behind him, a shifting of weight in the sand and the soft grunt of somebody putting in a little more effort than they would have liked. He didn't have to turn his head to know that it was Cassie - teleport was all but silent, so of course he didn't hear her returning - but the fact that she was moving and wasn't screaming in pain was a good sign. He turned his head anyway, of course, once the platform had been settled, his eyes meeting hers as she approached, gaze scanning her up and down for any signs of fresh injuries. His heart reluctantly returned to his chest when he saw that she was walking relatively normally, and seemed like she had not sustained any further injuries. He gave her a small, relieved smile before turning his attention back to Ariel, where he began fastening the silk straps beneath her abdomen to keep the frame in place.

He shot her a glance as she arrived by his side, a rueful smile pulling at one corner of his lips. "Duly noted," he said wryly, bracing himself on the sand beside him. "I hope you enjoyed your impromptu skydiving holiday, by the way." He gave her a small, knowing smile...but hesitated. After a moment, he ventured, "It's....good to see you back in one piece, though. If something had happened to you, I'd have to make do with only two hands instead of three." He said it wryly, as if making a joke, but also...quietly, a little more seriously as he looked up at her, his previous concern and current relief obvious in his expression before he shifted and looked down at the ground. He grunted as he forced himself to his knees slowly, stretching out his back a little, it having become a little tight from hunching over his work. He'd moved quickly - it had only taken him a few minutes to build the thing, it being pretty simplistic in design - but that didn't stop his back from protesting at the poor posture. "Though I believe that I am done here. It's simple, but with any luck it will prove to be sturdy enough for our purposes." He allowed himself a small snort of a derisive laugh. "Though admittedly, 'luck' seems to be in short supply for us today." He sighed to himself and began to brace himself to get to his feet when he felt a large hand on his shoulder.

He frowned and glanced back at Falcone, who had her hand under his arm...and her other hand extending what looked to be the root from earlier towards him? No...not the root. It seemed to have been whittled down into a slightly spiral-patterned branch-like shape, with a gnarled, knobbled flare at one end. It took him a moment to work out what he was looking at, and when he did, he let out a small chuckle.
"Smartarse," he muttered with a smile as he took the makeshift cane from Falcone's outstretched hand and used it to push himself upright. He rolled his eyes, but did give her a quiet, "Thank you," before returning his attention to Cassie. "The teams aren't back yet, but with this, we should be able to carry a good deal of supplies. Did you manage to identify a location to carry our supplies to, by any chance?" She seemed to be in a slightly better mood than before, which implied a certain degree of success. Or maybe it was just the adrenaline! She always did enjoy high-octane and energetic pastimes, so impromptu skydiving was probably something that she had enjoyed a great deal. She was absolutely insane, of course...and that was what made her so bloody magnificent.
 
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She was shivering, but not from the cold, nor the numbness in her skin. She shivered from the excitement, the giddiness of a new discovery. She was bursting at the seams to tell him – she was certain he would find it was exciting as she did – but it was about the delivery, giving the information at the right time to maximize a reaction. So for now, she played along, baiting her time and enjoying their little banter. After all, it was a rare occurrence these days that she found herself enjoying conversation, being able to smile and laugh in reaction to someone’s words in a genuine manner. But then, she had always had a soft spot for Dante. She enjoyed his company as a child – always sought more of it, in fact – and she was pleased to discover that she still enjoyed his company now. He was still the same Dante and more. He was confident and experienced now, with all those years of travel behind him. Bright, ambitious, and stronger than ever.

But that didn’t mean he was invincible.

The careful way he moved never failed to still her heart, her breath held as if one wrong move from her would somehow cause him pain. Her eyes watched his abdomen carefully, where his makeshift bandaging peeked out from underneath his tatted suit jacket. A tragic reminder of the night they were having before, a fairytale come true. She moved in close, her hand reached out to help steady him should he need it. Her eyes were cold and empty on most days, especially these past few years, but today… It was alive and full of concern. After all, an untainted part of her past had returned to her. How could she not smile and chuckle in his proximity, especially when he still looked so achingly good despite having literally just been shipwrecked? “You’re welcome.” She said cheekily, and his ensuing laughter made it all worth it.

As he finally made it to his feet, her first instinct was to sling his arm over her good shoulder and help steady him. Both to help him, and because she selfishly wanted to be close to him again. She was cold, and she would do well to absorb some of his body heat, but more than that… Well, how could she resist? She was still just a woman at the end of the day, and she had fallen victim to his charms as the three who had been chasing after him the day before. She wondered what happened to them. Had they gotten onto the lifeboats in time? Were they safe? Or had they drowned? Well, Cassie wasn’t too concerned either way. However, before she could step in and offer her assistance to Dante, his Rhydon – Falcone, was it? – had returned with what looked to be a branch of some kind, crudely whittled into the shape of a cane. Had she made that herself? While Dante chuckled, Cassie let out an open laugh. Imagining Dante walk around with a cane, hunched over like an old man, how could she resist? “Well, I don’t know. You think your poor old heart can take it, old man?” She teased good-naturedly, grinning a wide, cattish grin. “Because although I have found us a good location to build a camp, I also discovered something… Very fascinating.”

She turned her attention then towards the yawning expanse of dense forest and mist ahead of them. “This piece of land is not just an island… It’s possibly an undiscovered region.” She placed her hand on her hip, glancing up to the sky this time. “I was up approximately 6,000 feet, and yet, I still could not see the ends of this ‘island.’ Of course, it is also possible that we might have just washed up onto an unknown area of a known region. A little less exciting, but, it does mean we won’t need to worry as much about getting back to civilization. I’d say it’s a win-win. I’ve no doubt with the two of us working together, we’ll get out of this just fine.” And at this, her expression melts into a softer, more assuring smile. As if telling him that everything would be okay, as long as they were together.
 
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Name: Dante E. Young
Location: Beach
Current Team: Jason, Tails, Gary, Falcone, Ariel, Syl

It was...good to see Cassie so excited. Even before she exploded with the news, he could see the light dancing in her eyes and the raw passion and excitement of whatever it was that she had seen nearly bursting from her in a shower of confetti and sparkles from the effort of keeping it inside for long enough to build up the suspense in a proper manner. He hadn't seen much of her in the last few years, but considering the flashes of morose sorrow he'd been seeing over the last half hour or so and how difficult he knew her life recently had been...well, he had to consider the possibility that this kind of emotion, this kind of raw joy was a rarity for her. How could somebody keep smiling with all of the grinding down that the world had put her through over the last decade? How could anybody keep their smile when the universe seemed to want to wring every last drop of optimism and excitement and discovery from your cold, dead, desiccated corpse?

He'd seen those glimpses of darkness and depression, of sorrow and bone-crushing weight when the topic of her past came up, so to see her eyes light up with such child-like wonder and excitement, to see her practically hopping in place with the effort of not just blurting whatever it was out? That was...nice. Wonderful, even. There was that glimmer of the adventurous girl he'd been so quietly enamoured with when he was younger, and he was determined to do whatever it took to protect that last little sliver of light that the world had somehow managed to miss thus far.

He leaned heavily on his cane and glowered at her, though the gleam in his eye indicated that it was more for show than anything else. "Old Man?" He was older than her, certainly, but old man? Arceus, that made him feel like his father, and that was a comparison that would likely never be overly welcome. He scowled and hobbled over to Ariel, who was shifting around and testing her new brace. "Old man?" He scoffed dryly, "Kids these days! No respect for their elders." He shot her a glance. "I can handle it, you young whippersnapper. Maybe you should go to the bathroom before we leave, because we won't be stopping on the way. And any more lip out of you, young lady, and I'll be turning this Rhydon around and going straight home, do you hear me?" He shook his new cane at her like an angry old man, though the sudden movement did produce the slightest of winces from him as he abdomen twinged yet again. Ok, so, note to self; angry old men don't shake their canes because it hurts. Got it.

Still, the wince didn't erase the small, playful smile on his lips, and he could feel his heart lift just a little. He hadn't joked like this in years with anybody except his Pokemon, so to be able to let go a little with another human being, to have that brief moment of jolly connection even in the worst of circumstances...it was actually somewhat relaxing. It was not something he would do with many people, but with Cassie...it had always been easy to let go and just have a little bit of fun. These might well be his last days, if they couldn't find a way off of the island, but if they were...then at least he got to spend them with somebody he cared about. That was a mercy, at the very least, even if he would have preferred her to be somewhere safe instead. But hey...that was life. You very rarely got exactly what you wanted.

When she did finally reveal what she was so surprised about, however, it made perfect sense and he couldn't deny that there was just a small flutter of excitement in his own chest, too. Alas, it was tinged with concern and worry; if they were on an uninhabited island, an unexplored region...that meant no humans, or at least, no civilisation that they would recognise, which meant that getting off the island was the only way to survive. He frowned a little at the extra steps that put on their escape, and how much pressure that placed on their shoulders to escape off of their own backs, but he pushed it down and set it aside; such worry and anxiety was not about to do anything to help, and more pragmatic concerns needed to be focused on first. It was what it was, after all. But beyond that...a little hope, a little excitement? That was useful. He held onto that, let it give him a flicker, a spark of optimism and drive. Because now...there was something else to strive for; knowledge. Understanding. Experience that nobody else in the world had had before. That was enticing indeed.

Discovering a new region? That was the discovery of the century! If it was indeed somewhere new, was it possible that there were new Pokemon? New periods of history, new regional phenomenon to discover? Had humans been there before and left behind ancient ruins, or was it a brand new world, untouched by human hands? Either way, it was an exciting prospect, and certainly one that - once they had a way off the island - he would want to explore thoroughly. His chest swelled just a little as he offered her a small, somewhat excited grin.
"Well then. It seems that we have another reason to escape; so we can return and explore the region properly, no?" Keep positive. That would give them that final grit that they would need to get through this.

He turned as he heard footsteps behind him in the sand, finding that his little salvage team had returned; between the three of them, Syl, Jason and Tails were dragging a large palm-like leaf across the sand laden with various pieces of salvage. He hobbled over towards them, looking over what little supplies they'd managed to procure; a couple of potions, some basic sea-rations (emergency wreckage food that he had insisted the ship pack, just in case) and a collection of shattered wood and pieces of scrap metal that could be used in constructing basic structures or tools. There was enough food there to feed all of them for a couple of days, and a few undamaged flasks of bottled water that had managed to survive. Not the best salvage operation, alas, but it was better than nothing. He reached over and scratched all of them behind the ears affectionately.
"Good work, team," he said affectionately, stooping over to fuss them before pushing on the cane to get himself upright again. He'd been hoping for a revive to heal up Gary, but...alas, it was not to be.

He gestured to Ariel and her basket-brace.
"Falcone, help them load the supplies. Evenly, mind; we do not want the basket to overbalance on our journey." He turned to look at Cassie with a wan smile. "It's something, at least. When your team returns, we should set off for the campsite you saw immediately. The sooner we have a secure location to operate out of, the better." He gave her a small, reassuring smile, the best that he could do. "You're right. There's nothing that can stop us if we work together. And when we get back to civilisation, why, we discovered a whole new region! Fame and fortune are waiting for us, and it would be rude to be late for our own future, now wouldn't it?" They needed that. Some kind of plan for after, because if they had a plan for it, then there was going to be an after. For now, though...shelter, food and water.

It was a short term goal, yes, but it was progress nonetheless. A big job like this, you had to split into smaller objectives in order to make headway. Shelter was the big thing that they could solve right now, and if they could manage it...they would be that much closer to living through this ordeal. Every journey started with a single step, and on every journey, the most important step a man could take was the
next one. Always move forwards, never falter, never stall. As long as you did that, there was no mountain you could not climb...and he was making damn certain that they scaled this mountain together, come Necrozma or High Water. They'd only just found each other again. He was not letting that go to waste, and he swore to Arceus, he was not letting that last little bit of light left inside Cassie go out. Not ever.
 
Things were so different now, she realized as her banter with Dante resumed. But it was a good different. A difference that she liked. Maybe even more than the way things were before. And yes, prior to then, she couldn’t stop thinking about how it felt like nothing had changed, and as confusing as it may sound, that still rang true. She had always feared change. She had always worried about things not staying the way they were. Always anxious about things being different. But now, she began to realize that perhaps, change wasn’t all that bad. As a little boy, Dante was all too serious. He would never engage in the kind of banter they were having now. And back then, she never would have made those jokes either. She was far too timid to. And perhaps, they had grown into what each other needed. And if her entire life, all the suffering she had endured and lived through was leading her to this, to meeting Dante again… Then it might be worth it after all.

End on a high note, as they say.

Oh, yes, she tried not to think about it. She tried to push it all inside her Vault in the shrouds of the void, but that didn’t mean the thoughts weren’t there. It was funny, really. Just how long had she stopped fearing death? She was still so young, having only just broken her 20s. But it seemed like she had already lived past her prime and was now at the dusk of her life. She felt so old, so weary. She had seen and experienced more in those couple decades than the average person would in their entire lifetimes. Well, her mother always liked to tell her that she hadn’t expected her to live very long, be it from the complications at birth or the frailty it left her with in the first few years of her life. She was already lucky to be born. She was lucky to be alive. And for the longest time, she had fought so hard trying to prove her wrong. Trying to be wanted and worthy. But… At the end of it all, perhaps she had been right. More and more, it felt like she had been born just to suffer a meaningless life and then die a meaningless death. As if it was all a cruel joke from Arceus.

Well… It was the only life she had.

The hurricane raged quietly inside the void, behind her eyes and smiling face. Her fractured mind operated independently of each other, sometimes helping her compartmentalize and multitask, and sometimes screaming so loudly with different thoughts at once that her brain could melt. But luckily for now, it was only one piece. Easily ignored and pushed away. She didn’t need that right now. She was happy now. And the best she could do was focus on the now. Not the past, not the future. The present, where Dante was right in front of her, and her Pokemon were with her. Relatively safe and in one piece. She knew Dante was still in a great deal of pain, but, she also knew better than to fuss on him too much. He was a grown man, and, he always hated pity.

Just as Dante’s Pokemon returned, her own search team was not far behind. Ryu carried a wooden crate with one arm while the other had a firm grip on Lady’s tail, who carried something shiny in her mouth. Nine, meanwhile, had various items bobbing around his tails, hovering in mid-air. She can’t help but feel like a mother seeing her little ones come home from a day out playing, bringing back random gifts for her to keep. It was a strange feeling that somehow never faded, even over time. She motioned them over and the three picked up their pace. Coming closer and setting the items down in a pile for her to comb through. In the crate were fresh berries and a few energy roots – likely from the ship’s kitchen supplies – as well as various random assortments of damp clothes and linen. They could use that to fashion bandages and slings or keep warm in the night for sure. Nine had gathered bits of rope and a flare gun, but what really caught her attention was the white box marked with a big red cross on it. A first aid kit. Maybe… Maybe they could make it after all.

She sighed a big sigh of relief and fussed her two boys affectionately, pushing a loving peck on each of their foreheads and scratching under their chins. “Bien joué. Trés bien joué.” She murmured as the two growled happily. Ryu pushed his head against her unaffected affectionately while Nine plopped down on his back against her legs for belly rubs, which earned them some more fussing. They’d been with her the longest, and she would be lying if she said she didn’t tend to favor them, but despite the way she behaved, Lady was the jealous type, and she chuffed sharply – almost like a scoff – holding her head up higher as if to show off what she had in her mouth. Cassie paused to look at her – she figured the shiny object was a prize that the Liepard had decided to collect for herself – and both Nine and Ryu looked at her in annoyance.

Lady turned her head away in a huff, knowing that she had the spotlight now, and Cassie realized what she had found. It was her hairpin. The one she had been wearing. The one Dante had given her. Immediately, her hand reached up to touch where it should be on her head, only to realize it wasn’t there. She could have lost that pin forever, but somehow Lady had been able to track it down and bring it back to her. She laughed softly, “Lady!” The Liepard chuffed again, pridefully. “Lady,” Cassie called once again, and the feline glanced at her curiously. “Come here.” She motioned, and Lady let out a sigh as if saying, ‘well fine, if you insist.’ And bounded – very enthusiastically – toward her, purposefully shoving Nine and Ryu out of the way as she went. Nine growled at her, rolling back onto his stomach while Ryu let out a short bark, but Lady ignored both as she leaned her full weight onto Cassie and knocked her over. Cassie winced softly as her injured arm was jostled, but the wince quickly turned into soft chuckles as she fussed and pressed kisses onto Lady’s forehead. It took a bit of yanking and tugging – and forcibly shoving her hand into her mouth – to retrieve the pin. She wasn't able to put it back on - what with her only having one functioning hand - and because once she successfully did so, Lady was had decided to lay herself lengthways on top of her trainer like she was her own personal mattress, pinning said arm under her. She growled and swiped at Nine and Ryu as they tried to come close, and considering her size, there was very little Cassie could do, especially in her injured state.

But she also didn’t mind. She was proud that she was able to build this bond with such a finicky creature, and moments like these reminded her just why she had survived for so long. She was deeply flawed, it was true. On her own, she would have perished a long time ago in their harsh world, but her mother never considered the bond she had with her Pokemon. The bond that made her stronger than she ever could have been alone. She truly believed that just as Pokemon needed trainers to become stronger, those Pokemon also helped their trainer to grow. Her Pokemon were as much a part of her as her own hands and feet. And perhaps, that was also why she didn’t feel afraid. Because she had them, and there was nothing they couldn’t overcome.

She had always been lucky like that.

She turned to look at Dante just as his eyes focused on her, and when he smiled, she could see that he still had doubts and uncertainty in his mind, but he was doing his best. Clearly, he was a lot more thoughtful about this entire ordeal than she was, but, he had always been the more careful one between them. That was just who he was. And it seemed, his attempt at optimism was more for her than anything else. But, that didn’t mean that she didn’t like what he was saying. God, how good it sounded, to return to civilization triumphant. This discovery would solve all her problems. It would finally bury her past. She could finally turn over a new leaf. But, out of all his worries, she didn’t want to be one of them. She wanted him to know that no matter what, no matter how fast he ran ahead, she would always be beside him. She had vowed a long time ago, when she first set off on her journey, to be someone who would never ever be a burden or dead weight. She would be someone everyone wanted on their side. And now she was. After what she had endured and survived, you’d better Arceus-damn believe she was. That dream, at least, she had achieved. That she would never slow him down, but instead help him move forward even faster. To make his life easier, not to make it harder. She was his partner, not his burden or his charge.

And so, she smiled confidently at him in response, still laying on her back with Lady on top of her, grooming her knotted hair. She chuckled shortly, “Of course. Though how on-time we are is Lady’s decision at the moment. I could use a hand.” She peered back at him, almost invitingly, from the corner of her eyes. “Or, if you want to join me for a moment, we can take a small breather while our Pokemon load up our supplies.” She glances over at Ryu and Nine at this, both of whom were still a bit annoyed at having their cuddle time cut short. But Ryu settled with an annoyed huff at Lady while Nine not-so-kindly singed a bit of her fur, to which the Liepard retaliated with a smug hiss.
 
Name: Dante E. Young
Location: Beach
Current Team: Jason, Tails, Gary, Falcone, Ariel, Syl

There was...tension there, in that moment before their Pokemon returned. It was slight, momentary, brief, but it was there all the same. It wasn't the kind of tension between two people - he and Cassie seemed to have fallen into an all too familiar-yet-vastly-different rhythm - or even the tension of things left unsaid. It was just a...feeling. A stolen, frozen moment in time where there was just a flicker of something deeper and more serious in her gaze, a slight crack in those silver mirrors that allowed him to glance behind the window and see the dark room beyond. The kind of tension that spoke of some greater conflict being warred somewhere inside one of them that briefly spilled into the outside world in an attempt to poison the atmosphere around them before being dragged back inside and locked tight in whatever prison it had been freed from. A flicker of a frown passed across his face, though he smoothed his expression before it could become a permanent fixture.

Cassie had...baggage, he knew that much. How could she go through even half of what she had and come away unscathed, unscratched, unburdened? That she was moving forwards at all was a gargantuan feat of strength that deserved respect and admiration, after all. But now was not the time to address it, or try to coax it out of her. They'd had quiet moments of implication and reassurance, or shared conflict and glimpses of each others burdens, and that was enough for now. These kinds of things could not be shared overnight, and they could not be solved with only a quick, cheerful word. It required time. And time was one thing that they did not have an overabundance of. There was a time and a place for those conversations, for those quiet, serious talks...and now was not one of them. He could have that conversation, considering his own darkness, his own pressures and baggage and strain...his own struggles with the whispers he kept locked away in the back of his mind, dutifully ignoring them as best he could during the day and being haunted by them during the night, but that conversation was a long, hard one that deserved more respect and care than simply being forced on a beach when they should be focusing on other things.

He wanted to talk to her about it, of course, and he wanted to try and connect with her, to make her aware that she wasn't alone and that he understood. That her darkness did not scare him, and that no matter what it was, he was not about to let her suffer it alone. But again...not the time. She would not thank him for forcing her to confront it when she so clearly wanted to focus on other, more transient but happier, cheerful things. So instead of speaking up, his face instead twitched into a quick quirking of his eyebrow and a concerned, sympathetic - but not pitying; never pitying - smile to indicate that whatever it was, he'd seen it, and he understood...and that he knew enough to not force the issue.

But that was only a single moment in eternity, echoing into the blackness and quickly forgotten when time moved forwards again, and their Pokemon returned. The moment of fear and doubt and whatever else it was disappeared from Cassie's eyes as she greeted her team with the most brilliant, bright, genuinely enthusiastic smile he'd ever seen her wear. She went to greet them like a child running out to say hello to their beloved puppy when it came home from walkies, fussing over them with such genuine joy and love that he found himself smiling a little at the sight. How alike they were, he realised. They both had their baggage, their darkness, their burdens...but their Pokemon made it all worth it. Their Pokemon were there regardless, always offering their support and their comfort. It was their Pokemon that made their lives worthwhile, that made them bearable, and it ached in both a good and a bad way to see that Cassie felt the same way.

He allowed himself a small chuckle as he reached down to scratch behind Jason and Tail's ears affectionately as they passed him on their way to load up the equipment on Ariel's back, though Jason did pause to look at the new addition of Cassie's Liepard; they were finnicky creatures, much like Houndooms, difficult to control and fickle with their affections, but it seemed that - for all her brattiness - this "Lady" did genuinely hold at least some affection for Cassie. Jason, of course, let out a guarded, distrustful sub-growl and turned his head away pointedly. Houndooms didn't tend to like many other Pokemon, and given that Jason was a canine and Lady was a feline, well...there was a certain amount of instinctual distrust and distaste there. Though even Jason had to admit that she was a well-groomed Liepard, sleek and muscular and powerful, with glossy fur and a dignified, proud strut to her gait that indicated confidence and mischief. He'd have to keep a close eye on her, in case she tried anything funny.

Though that was not what Dante noticed; whilst he was more interested in the roots and berries that Cassie's team had found - which would certainly tide them over, even if the meals would not win them any friends in their Pokemon - he too caught that glimmer in the Liepard's mouth. He saw it at the same time Cassie did, apparently, and his realisation twigged sharply. He'd been thinking that there was something different about Cassie, something missing, but he'd not been able to put his finger on it. Maybe it was because of his concern about her safety rather than a piece of jewellery, perhaps it was his lack of sleep and his injuries causing him a great deal of distracting pain, or maybe it was just that he was preoccupied with more pressing matters, but when he realised what it was, he felt foolish in the extreme. Her hairpin, the one that he had given her all those years ago, was sitting clutched in Lady's mouth. He reflexively reached up to ensure that the pin that Cassie had given him was still there, heart skipping a beat at the realisation, only to calm when he felt its reassuring shape and weight on his fingers.

Well...at least that was safe. If it had been missing, it would have been missing forever, given how loathe he would have been to waste precious time searching for trinkets when they had food, water and shelter to find. He would have mourned and lamented it's loss for the rest of his life...but to endanger their lives over jewellery would be reckless and selfish. He sighed and shook his head, moving forwards - slowly, with the assistance of his new cane - to join Cassie where she was currently stuck beneath her large, well-cared-for Liepard. He smiled a little at the invitation, and very nearly took it. Why wouldn't he? Sitting on the beach with the most beautiful, strong, capable women he had ever met, taking a breather from their work, admiring the landscape of their new world, thanking their good fortune that they at least had some basic supplies to work with. But he knew that would be a mistake; they were both wounded, and judging by the sun's slow but steady crawl across the sky, it was already reaching mid-afternoon. They had no idea how long the journey would take, and being out in the open with no shelter, no high ground and no knowledge of the surrounding area at night? That was a recipe for disaster.

He reached down and - assuming she didn't snap at him - cautiously ran his hand along the back of Lady's fur. "Whilst I would love nothing more than to relax on the beach with such a beautiful Liepard and her nearly-equally-beautiful partner-" He shot Cassie a sly, subtle wink; he knew how proud and finnicky Liepards could be! "-I believe it would be prudent to move as quickly as possible. The day is growing older, and something tells me that we do not want to be stuck wandering this island at night." He glanced at their Pokemon, who were already most of the way through loading the supplies. They didn't have a lot, after all, so it wasn't going to take them very long at all. "If My Lady would be so kind as to allow Cassie to stand, I would be more than happy to promise her excessive pampering when we reach our campground," He said with a slight bow towards Lady. He heard Jason scoff-bark behind him, but he ignored him. Well, mostly. He scuffed his foot enough to kick some sand behind him, which earned a surprised mini-yelp that made him chuckle. "And then we can relax to our heart's content over dinner, no? It's been a while since I've had human company while camping. I am...looking forward to the change of pace." He paused and gave Cassie a small, inviting smile, before looking away, slightly embarrassed. He'd actually always wanted to go camping with Cassie, even when they were little. They'd been too young to do it on their own, naturally, but they'd always promised each other that they would do it one day. This wasn't quite what he'd had in mind for fulfilling his promise, but...life very rarely went in the direction you expected, no? You took what you could get. He was keeping that promise now, at least, and that was what really mattered. Right?
 
Though Lady very rarely paid any attention to the Pokemon around her, there were also moments when she did, and normally that was when those Pokemon were A) feral and willing to kill her, or B) dogs. She did not like dogs in the slightest. They were brutish and sloppy, clumsy and smelly, and they just had no concept of personal space. Worse off, they just can’t help but harass pretty felines like her and had absolutely no class. They messed up her fur, chased her around, and sometimes they even try to take a bite out of her, so she was definitely not a fan of dogs. Especially when they had such a grumpy, angry mug like this big black one they were stuck with.

Suffice to say, she kept a very close eye on him, just in case he tried anything funny. In doing so, however, she instinctively lowered herself to the ground, pressing harder against Cassie and decidedly making it harder for her trainer to breathe. You might think she was being protective, but really, she liked seeing her struggle to breathe more. For the most part. That being said, her focus eventually shifted o the man that was now approaching. He was tall and seemed quite charismatic, and aside from the strong scent of seawater and blood, he smelled well-groomed enough. The scent of blood and seawater reminded her a lot of that one man who hung around her trainer a lot. But he always seemed just as interested in Pokemon as he did other humans, and that had always been quite… Bizarre for her. He was always far too friendly. And so, the idea that another one was coming into their circle was not something she was particularly fond of.

Thus, as Dante reached down, she instinctively bared her fangs; her ears pressing back against her head and a low growl rumbling from her chest, a warning telling him to not try anything funny or he’ll regret it. But Cassie watched closely, of course. The last thing she wanted was for Dante to get injured, by her own Pokemon no less. The guilt and embarrassment would just be too much for her to bear. She generally felt quite confident with her Pokemon’s obedience, but Lady was always a wildcard. She certainly had a mind of her own, and the way she reacted to things were often random and unpredictable. She reminded her a lot of herself when she was just a few years younger. Of course, luckily for her sake, Lady had permitted Dante to touch her, and as soon as he did, she seemed to enjoy his touch very much. The scowl quickly left her face and she was soon leaning up to press against his hand and Cassie can’t help but feel impressed.

It shouldn’t come as any surprise of course, but Dante knew exactly how to handle Pokemon. Perhaps, even better than he knew how to handle people. He did not hesitate or waver. He remained completely calm and composed, and thus, allowed Lady to feel that way too. He didn’t move too quickly as to startle her, nor did he move too slowly for her to become anxious. Even in his injured state, it was second nature to him, and she can’t help but admire it. He was so skilled and experienced now. So grown up. She wondered how many battles he’s seen. How many times he’s been triumphant and how often he had lost. What has he needed to struggle through? Were there ever moments when he felt alone? Were there ever moments when he thought of… Her? She can’t imagine it would have been often. She hardly had any time to remember him either and, in a way, she hadn’t wanted to. It hurt more to hope for help that would never come than to accept that you were alone. There had been a time when she had wanted to be saved, but things only started to turn around when she took matters into her own hands and accepted that no one was coming for her. Even after this, if they made it out of this, what was the likelihood that he would want to stick around? He’d always just been… Stuck with her. Given the choice, what was stopping him from turning around and walking away with empty promises of keeping in touch?

What was stopping him from walking out of her life again?

That was the inevitability of life, she supposed. Nothing ever stayed the same. That was why you enjoyed it while it lasted. And so, she enjoyed the wink that Dante shot her. She enjoyed the little skip in her heartbeat when she saw it. And she most certainly enjoyed the moments when it was just them, and she had his complete and undivided attention. The time when she had him all to herself. She turned her attention back to Lady then, who seemed to be seriously considering his offer. Cassie noticed the playfulness he had with his Houndoom, who had been watching them intently all this time, and she can’t help but feel happy for him. Dante had managed to find himself a faithful companion too, it seemed. A boy and his dog. A Houndoom suited him, she decided. And then, after a pause, she heaved herself up and off her, lifting the weight that had been keeping her chest from rising properly. Cassie took in a deep breath, filling her lungs with much-needed air before then pushing herself up to a sitting position.

Her attention was immediately fixed on Dante, however, watching him with rapt attention as he spoke. She did miss his voice very much. Him and his Galarian accent. And although his sudden bashfulness was uncharacteristic of him, she also found it was very becoming. She’d never seen him that way before, but she was happy… Hopeful? To be able to see it now. His inviting smile tugged at her poor, beaten heartstrings made her wonder if… She had a future there, even if the answer was blatantly clear, given her track record. It made her hopeful yet again. Such that she wondered if she would ever learn her lesson, or if she was always going to be a hopeless romantic. Especially when out of all the partners she’d had before, this was the one relationship she didn’t want to end up losing too. It just seemed like everything she held in her hands on simply withered and died. But she was who she was, and she had long accepted that. She laughed at the pain because that was what she was familiar with, and so it wasn’t difficult for her to maintain her confident and playful mood despite all the doubts that were running through her head. “Well, you’re not missing much.” She chuckled. “I usually prefer the solitude, but I’m willing to make an exception for an old friend.”

She shot a cheeky glance at his cane at this and then pushed herself up with a grunt, grabbing onto her shoulder with a wince to make sure it didn’t move any further, and then finally got to her feet. She dusted herself off as best as she can, but there was only so much she could do. “But you’re right, we really should get going.”

And off they went indeed, to the direction she had seen the river in with their little convoy of Pokemon. Based off what she’d seen, it shouldn’t be more than a 20-minute walk, but, that was assuming nothing jumped out and attacked them. As they walked, however, she offered the hairpin to him. “Would you mind helping me out one more time?” She smiled softly at this, and for a moment, her expression changed. Transforming from one of wit and playfulness to an almost tender, hopeful glance. Perhaps she wanted to relive happier days, or she was trying to make the most out of this time with him. But either way, she relished his touch when he took the pin, the warmth and roughness of his fingers, and-… She paused, and her gaze drifted down towards her hands, finally realizing that they had been missing their gloves all this time. Had he noticed them already, then? The scarred, sinewy, discoloured flesh of her hands? If he had, then, maybe he thought they were new, something she’d gotten from their run-in with the murder of Gyarados, so he hadn’t thought much of it. But if he hadn’t then… He certainly would now.

Either way, she simply let out a sigh. She knew Dante wouldn’t care about them, but… She did. She cared about what he thought of her, and those scars… They were a physical, outward manifestation of just how flawed and broken she was on the inside. A glimpse of how ugly she really was deep down. She hadn’t cared about what other people thought about her in a long time, but Dante wasn’t just “another person.” He was someone she respected, and someone she had always looked up to. She clutched her hands, balled them into fists and then relaxed them, almost compulsively. Suddenly, she wasn’t able to look him in the eyes, and her cheeks felt incredibly warm. “It’s a long story.” Was all she could say, and instead, she focused on the pin once again, holding her hair back for him to slide it into.

Although now she felt incredibly subconscious, and the suspense of what he made of this… Revelation, was killing her.
 
Name: Dante E. Young
Location: Beach
Current Team: Jason, Tails, Gary, Falcone, Ariel, Syl

The thing about Liepards were that they were finnicky. They were independent, free spirits who very rarely submitted to any kind of authority. They were mischievous and self-centred and proud creatures that only ever really begrudgingly listened to their trainers, and even then only if they actually respected them. If a Liepard thought that you weren't worth their time, good luck getting them to do anything that you wanted them to do that didn't immediately benefit the Liepard in some way. And even then, they might ignore you not because they disagreed with the order, but because you had ordered them to do it in the first place. It became a principle thing. In short...Liepards were cats. They were felines, and they acted like it. So the fact that not only did Lady seem comfortable enough with Cassie to plonk herself down on her lap and accept fussings from her, but also didn't immediately try to maul her for her issues? It spoke volumes about the kind of bond that they had. It spoke volumes how capable and firm a trainer Cassie could be, and just how much her team all respected her. It showed that she was a trainer of great ability and skill, and knew how to earn the obedience - even if it was slightly begrudging obedience - of even the most troublesome and disobedient Pokemon.

Funnily enough, though, he had to admit that Liepard was probably the perfect partner for Cassie. Even back when they were kids, Cassie had had a slightly mischievous streak to her, and seeing her all grown up...well, the comparisons were obvious. Cassie was an independent, strong woman who played by her own rules and - he could tell by the way she held herself on the ship, that day near the pool - had no time for people she considered beneath her. Her attention, her time, was a reward that was given to people who proved that they were worth it, that they had something to offer besides just a pretty face. She was elegant and poised, just like a Liepard, full of dangerous, predatory grace and coquettish, analytical eyes that made you feel undressed both physically and mentally. Yet seeing her there, with Lady perched atop her, a genuine, glittering smile on her face...there was also a hint of playfulness, of not being quite so above it all, just like a Liepard with their sense of mischief, fun and adventure. Ryu might well be her partner Pokemon...but he imagined that if she was transformed into a Pokemon, she'd end up a lot more like Lady than she or Ryu might otherwise like to admit!

The thought made him smile a little as he ran his hand through Lady's soft, sleek fur - making sure to hit the bits he knew Felines loved to get scratched - before shifting away as she got to her feet, letting Cassie gather her thoughts and her balance before the larger Pokemon changed her mind. He lifted a wry eyebrow at her as they gathered their things. "And who might this 'Old Friend' be? Somebody I should be worried about, perhaps?" He asked with a sly half-smirk, a twitching of his lips. He wasn't usually this playful. It wasn't usually this easy. But being around Cassie...she made him feel like a kid again, before life ground him down. It wasn't much, but that spark...it was worth hanging onto. Besides. In this situation, all they really had left was their good humour. If they let themselves get worn down, it would be that much harder to keep going. He shook his head to rid himself of the thought, offering a hand to help her up. "We should get moving before Lady changes her mind," he said quietly. "I do not believe that she would take kindly to being picked up and carried by Falcone." He lifted an eyebrow teasingly before turning to hobble off alongside her towards the forest.

They were only a little way into the jungle when they next spoke. They spent the first few minutes in companionable silence, making sure that their Pokemon were ordered correctly, paying attention to their surroundings and falling into an easy rhythm. Their Pokemon were evenly distributed across the length of the makeshift convoy, so they could each react if they saw something the other didn't. For Dante's part, Jason was taking point, Tails was on the left-hand side, Ariel was in the middle - plodding along directly in front of Dante and Cassie, who each were keeping a watchful eye on the supplies, just in case - and Falcone took up the rear. Syl was bounding back and forth as she was wont to do, though in her defence, she never left the protective perimeter, just as Dante had ordered her. Sometimes she walked alongside Dante, her ribbons twisting around his arm affectionately, and other times she bounded up to ride on Jason's back or poke her nose curiously at Cassie's Pokemon like the curious, friendly little thing that she was.

Dante turned his head as Cassie spoke, a small smile gracing his lips at the question. Perhaps now wasn't the best time to wear jewellery, but...well, she did look beautiful in it, if he did say so himself, and what better way to keep it safe than to keep it on her at all times? Besides. It was an excuse to draw closer, to close that small distance between them, and they both knew it. He inclined his head with a small, light smile that was so faint that it might not have been there at all had it been given around anybody other than Cassie.
"It would be my pleasure, Cassie," he said gently, reaching down to take the pin from her hand. That was when his fingers brushed her palm, the pads of his digits scraping against her callused, practised hands, and he realised...she didn't have her gloves. Oh, he'd noticed that when she'd first helped him stand way back when they were treating Gary's wounds, but he'd had his mind on far more pressing matters at that moment in time, so he hadn't really thought that much about it. Why would he? People wore gloves, they didn't wear gloves. There was nothing really special about it, and fashion statements weren't what he was concerned about right at that moment.

But when his fingers touched her skin, he could feel a jolt of electricity pass through them, a skipping of his heart, a sudden blooming warmth in his chest that radiated outwards and set his body to tingling in the most delightfully confusing, alien way, a sensation that made him draw in a soft breath of surprise and pleasure. But the feeling didn't last long, because he also saw in her face a sudden, sharp change. A sudden look of embarrassment and shame, of terror and agony that replaced her hopeful, inviting, almost bashful look. Instead of a blushing young woman asking for an intimate gesture...suddenly there stood before him a broken, tortured woman who had been put through the wringer by life, and who was embarrassed at just how many cracks and stitches she had beneath the fresh coats of paint she'd tried to apply to hide it. He saw that crack in the mirror that showed a deeper, darker room beyond, and a glimpse of the girl too scared to turn on the light for fear of what people might think if they saw what was truly behind that mask of cocky, flirty attitude. But why? Why was him touching her such a big deal? Did she...not want the contact after all? Was she ashamed?

He frowned, a deepening of his brow that passed across his features quickly as he glanced down at where their hands met...and then he understood. A zigzagging network of scars and cuts and tears, like shattered mirror shards carefully but inelegantly pieced back together, sealed with glue and tape but still obviously cracked and splintered beyond seamless repair. Jagged pieces of glass that moved whenever she did, that ruined the reflection she was trying to cast on the rest of the world, showing how false and hollow her persona really was. Cracks that indicated that dark room and that scared girl all the clearer. No wonder she wore gloves; who liked to be stared at, whispered about, wondered about? Who liked having their pain and their trauma so clearly on display for everybody to see? Nobody. He was lucky that his scars were mostly internal. But Cassie? Hers were out there for the world to see...and she'd just realised that he could see them too.

But he didn't care.

He knew that she was scarred and beaten and bruised and broken. He knew that the world had beaten her down and ground her face into the dirt, spat on her and tried to break her. But she was still there. She was still standing, in defiance of it all, her scars displayed, the shifting mirror pieces dragging across her skin, piercing her flesh, but not stopping her from moving forwards. To him, those scars were a sign of strength. A symbol of all of the wounds that had been cut into her but had failed to stop her. He moved his hands back up to her face with a soft, gentle smile. His hands moved past the hairpin, instead curling around her hands and wrist, fingers running delicately over her scars, smoothing over the cracks in that shattered window. He didn't shy away, he didn't recoil in horror. He held them. Held her. They were a part of her, and they were a part he admired because of what it represented; the things that she had survived that would have killed lesser trainers. The trauma the world had thrown at her that had not broken her. He held her hands tightly-but-tenderly, folding them in his larger, callused, rough hands. He clasped them together, surrounding them with his own, and tilted his head.
"I've always been rather fond of long stories," he said softly. "They're most often the ones that endure and inspire."

He gave her hands a soft, slow squeeze, before he gently took the hairpin from her hand and slipped around her body, brushing his chest past her shoulder as he came up behind her, gathering her hair into a bundle, delicately shifting it to one side so that he could reach up - his fingers gliding over her scalp - and slot the pin between her gorgeous, midnight-black locks of hair. He ran a hand affectionately down her hair to smooth it afterwards, his heart skipping a beat as he did so. He hesitated a moment, letting her scent fill his lungs, letting the raw power and strength radiating from her in that moment fill him with warmth before he stepped away, letting her turn towards him. He looked at her, then, gentle features, sparkling silver eyes, flowing dark hair...and the strength to fight any darkness or demon that came her way. The strength to endure with these scars and broken pieces digging into her every step of the way. He smiled, perhaps a little dreamily, and shook his head.

"Beautiful," he said softly.

And he meant it, with all his heart.
 
The surrounding forest was dark and dense, almost oppressively so. Perhaps it was the fog or the gloomy weather, yet the bark of the trees seemed almost black as night, as if they had been dead for a very long time. Yet, this couldn’t possibly be the case, seeing the leaves that still sprung from their branches, a deep shade of evergreen that seemed to match the darkness of its trunk. The area seemed more akin to a grove than a jungle. The ground mostly covered in large, rounded rocks with little to no undergrowth. The air was heavy, yet, cold at the same time. There was a chill in the air not unlike something you’d experience from being around Ghost type Pokemon. It was as if the sun had been snuffed out of the sky: their surroundings ashy and monochrome, as if the color had been drained right out of them. She kept sight of the river to their right, however. As long as they followed it upstream, they should come across the camping ground she had scouted earlier.

Such a sorry life she lived, from beginning to her inevitable end. Every turn ending in disaster. She lived from moment to moment, picking out the things she enjoyed and forgetting the things she would rather do without. Struggle and strife were her destiny, and for that reason, she embraced the silver linings. Those fleeting moments of reprieve during the storm that let her enjoy, for the briefest moments, sunshine and green meadows, breezes blowing sweet with the fragrance of springtime flowers. The times when she could resurface for air and just… Sit back. Breathe. It was the only way you could live. It was the only way you survived.

And this moment was one of those silver linings.

Dante was always such a stoic person. Even as a child, you could never guess what he was thinking, what he was feeling. And in a way, that had been what made her so fascinating to her, the fact that he could be so strong. So mysterious. How nothing fazed him, how he always seemed so grown up. She wanted to be like him. He was everything her mother would tell her she wasn’t, and in that way, she envied him too. She envied his relationship with his sister, she envied his brilliant mind, his hard-working personality, his eagerness to improve. She was such a different person then, a much worse, yet, much better person than who she was today. She’d just wanted to be a kid. A kid with silly, simple wants and silly, simple wishes.

And somehow, more than a decade later, she managed to fulfill that. Somehow, she stood before Dante now, in a state far worse than she had ever been in the entirety of her life, yet even after seeing the scars that marked the beginning of her downwards spiral, the scars she struggled to cope with most of all, he looked at her as if she held the beauty of all the Milotic in the world. As if she were… Perfect. And more than that. As if she were his equal. It was funny how, in a way, she had become more like him and he’d become more like her now that they were fully grown. He captured the playfulness she had lost and she gained the stoicism that she had always admired. Though the skin of her hands could only feel very little, she still felt the warmth of his hand as they touched, the callouses on his fingers, the gentleness in of his fingers.

The moment stretched on, but the storm clouds seemed so far away. He didn’t pull away. His eyes, even after they’ve glanced upon her hands, were still looking at her in that achingly adoring way. One that… She was almost afraid to believe was real. Was she just imagining it? Was she projecting? Dreaming? Or was he really there, enfolding her hands within his own? She felt her heart skip in her chest and for the first time in what felt like centuries… She was blushing like a young girl again. How could she not, when her childhood sweetheart was looking at her that way? When he was telling her that he wanted to hear her story, that he adored her even after seeing a glimpse of how imperfect and damaged she was?

He took the pin and began to move around, she assumed to do exactly what she had requested. Thus, she stayed perfectly still, letting him move while still holding her hair in place for him. As his chest brushed past her shoulder – no doubt a deliberate contact given how precise he was – she felt a delightful shiver run up her spine, a feeling that had been gone so long that it was alien to her. Concerning, even. Was it okay for her to feel this way? Was it safe for her to do so? Has she learned nothing?

Surely not. Surely it can’t be. Dante was a charming, polite gentleman who could make any girl go weak in the knees, and… She was simply no exception. She was an old friend, someone he had once been close with, so surely, he was being polite. Maintaining good relations to ensure their teamwork wasn’t compromised. He couldn’t possibly… Care. He wouldn’t possibly want to stay. Once this was over… That was it for them, wasn’t it? They led such different lives now, after all. And perhaps they would keep in touch for the first several months, promising to meet but then never finding the time to do so, until eventually her memory was lost to the noise once again.

And once again, she would be alone.

But for now… For now, she had him. For now, the reprieve was here. She could not ask for promises – she refused to have another one broken – but she could have this. These moments she could look back on. Feeling his hand running through her hair, in a way she wanted to believe was affectionate, letting his hand take over as he shifted her hair to the side and then slid the cool, thin piece of metal through, scraping along her scalp in a way that made her shudder. Instinctively, she reached up to touch the pin, making sure it was securely in her hair before finally turning to face him.

There it was again, that dreamy look. And somehow, as if he had read her mind, he answered her unspoken question. Beautiful. And the way he said it… She believed him. She let out a short, soft chuckle, one more akin to a soft exhale as she nodded her head. “Thank you.” She paused, as if, wondering if she should continue. She did so anyway. “I needed that.” And what she was referring to specifically, well… She would let him decide. She smiled, however, then nodded to the direction ahead. They should get moving again before it got dark. Unless… It already was. If she were being completely honest… She couldn’t really tell.

Despite this, she stuck close to him, her hand hovering over his back just in case he needed help getting past a particularly tricky surface. She knew he didn’t like being fussed over, but… She couldn’t help it. And perhaps, she just wanted an excuse to touch him again. “What time do you think it is?” She murmured after a moment, however.
 
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Name: Dante E. Young
Location: Beach
Current Team: Jason, Tails, Gary, Falcone, Ariel, Syl

It was a simple thing, slotting an ornament into a friend's hair. It was a quick moment of contact, a brush of skin against skin, an afterthought for most but for them...he knew it meant so much more. They were not people who trusted others easily. They were not people who let other people in, or anywhere close to them if they could help it. They were guarded and paranoid and standoffish and they were always wondering what angle the people around them were working. He might not have known "This" Cassie for very long, but how could she have gone through half of what she'd endured without developing that layer of mistrust? That level of scepticism that anything around her anything like what it appeared to be? That was the problem with being betrayed and ambushed and crushed into the dirt so many times that you lost your sense of self; nothing ever looked the same after that. Whilst he had not been through anything even half as brutal as the least of what Cassie had had to endure...he knew that much, at least. Once you'd been broken down once, nothing was ever quite as bright as it was before.

So to be allowed so close to her was a privilege, and he knew that. To be allowed to run his hands through her hair, to be allowed to circle around behind her, where he could easily do any number of things that she would never be able to see...it showed a degree of trust in him that he doubted she ever showed anybody else, and he was suitably humbled by the gesture. For her to have gone through what she'd gone through, to bear the scars that she did and still be willing to turn her back on him? That showed more loudly than any statement or declaration that she trusted him, and as somebody who did not trust easily...he knew just how precious that was. And that wasn't even considering what the ornament itself meant! She had kept that hairclip. She'd kept something he'd given her as a child all these years, safe and clean and intact, holding it precious when all of her other worldly possessions had likely gone through one hell of a wringer. That she'd held tight to that single, simple thing...it meant more to him than he reckoned he could ever truly express. Maybe he was being dramatic. Maybe he was being naïve, or maybe he was just being sentimental.

But for once...maybe he'd let himself feel something instead of telling himself it was stupid. Cassie just had a way, it seemed, of making him want to ignore the part of his brain telling himself that he was being ridiculous. And that more than anything else made him adore her all the more. He held her gaze for a moment longer as he stepped away, and there was a moment between them where the forest melted away, and it was just the two of them staring into each other's eyes. He liked to believe that there was some kind of mutual understanding there, that there was a moment of clarity and shared connection that spoke between their two broken spirits, like voices finally hearing each other across a vast, open void. Like a man stuck on a desert island reading a message in a bottle that told him that it had received his last letter and that they were coming to find him. Like a light in a dark tunnel, beckoning him back to the open air. But the spell was broken soon enough, and the only thing he could think to do was give her a gentle smile. He could tell how much such a compliment meant to her, but whether it was because it was a compliment or if it was because it was from him? He wasn't certain. He'd like to believe the latter, though he knew that was just hopeful ego talking.

"You're welcome," he said quietly, giving her hand one last squeeze. He hesitated for a moment, then continued with an almost nervous inclination of his head. "I'm here for whatever else you might need." He left it vague, perhaps, but he knew she'd know what he meant. They continued walking soon after, Dante stubbornly picking his way across the forest floor, stepping over roots and leaning heavily on his cane whenever the ground inclined upwards at anything more than a gentle angle. He was fit enough that he didn't get immediately out of breath, but limping through difficult terrain whilst injured and on very little actual, real sleep? It was getting challenging. He could feel his breath becoming a little shorter with every step, but he refused to show weakness now. If he couldn't handle a simple woodland stroll, then how in Arceus's name was he going to make it through the island ordeal as a whole? His wound twinged and stabbed and throbbed with every passing moment, but he grit his teeth and pushed himself through it, his face setting into a grimly determined scowl. Honestly, he was grateful for Cassie's question; it gave him something else to focus on for at least a short moment in time.

He contemplated it for a moment, furrowing his brow and trying to think back. He'd awoken in the late...morning, he reckoned, and seeing to himself and Gary had taken at least an hour or two. The sun had been high and begun to dip by the time Cassie had found them, and between their preparations and scouting and discussions...they had not set off for the forest until at least mid-afternoon. After that, time had become a little blurry. The forest was as forests were; nondescript, full of trees and leaves and roots and dense foliage, and without the indication of the sun's position overhead, there was no real way to know what time it was. That it wasn't dark yet was obvious - they would have far less light if that was the case - but the shadows were beginning to get longer. Whether that was because of the canopy overhead, though, was another matter entirely. Had they been walking for hours, or did it just feel like hours with his injured limping? Hard to tell.


"Truthfully, I am not certain,"
he said with a frown, glancing at his wrist where his shattered, waterlogged watch lay. He should probably just get rid of it, but it was a present from Grace and if there was any chance at fixing it, he'd go through hell and high water to see it done. "If I had to hazard a guess, I would imagine that it must be late-afternoon by now. Best case scenario, we might have another four hours of daylight. Worst case scenario...perhaps two." Arbitrary guesses? A little. The numbers were "ish" by nature, but they were the best estimates he could come up with given the situation. In the absence of anything else, they would have to do. He looked up at her and gave her a wan smile. "We shall find shelter in time, I am certain. And if we do not, I'm sure that Jason wouldn't mind lighting our way with a modest forest fire." A jest, obviously. He shook his head and pushed himself onwards a little faster, hobbling to keep up with the Pokemon ahead of them.

After a short while, the group before them pulled to a stop; approaching, Dante could see that the way forwards was blocked by a vast, towering rock wall that extended upwards before them, past the canopy and into the sky beyond. Looking up, Dante squinted and focused his eyesight, trying to peer past the coat of leaves and branches overhead; though it was only a glance or two from between the leaves as they rustled in the wind, he could just about make out the lip of the plateau in the distance. It was only about twenty or so feet in the air, but given their current lack of flyers, it might as well have been two hundred. He frowned a little, glancing at Cassie. He wasn't familiar with Kirlia's teleportation ability, but as he recalled, it had some pretty sizable limitations.
"Correct me if I'm wrong, but Peridot can only teleport one or two individuals at a time, and only to a place she can see, no?" That was fine for them - she could teleport up there, teleport onto the flat ground beyond and then return to ferry them up one at a time. That wasn't the issue. The problem...was their supplies. He doubted that they would count as "One Thing."

He pursed his lips.
"The supplies will be an issue. I built a lifting harness into the hamper for this eventuality, of course, but a team shall have to go to the top in order to provide the winching power to lift them up the cliff...and somebody shall have to remain below to secure the supplies and catch anything that might fall out." He frowned, considering carefully. Well, Ariel's placement was obvious. "Ariel should be at the top to provide the rope, clearly, and I should stay behind since I am the one who built the harness in the first place." He looked at Cassie contemplatively before sweeping his view out to regard the rest of their teams. "But we need a vanguard in case our assent is contested, and we shall need a team member or two halfway up the cliff face to provide interference in case something goes wrong on the way. Alas, my team won't be any help with the latter. Any ideas?" He asked her, looking back at her curiously. She'd proven that she was a tactical thinker, and it was important that he consider all angles...including ones he might not have thought of. Maybe it was the loss of blood and the hunger talking, but Dante was drawing a bit of a blank on certain details. His team didn't really have anything that could support somebody horizontally, so perhaps Cassie's team had something like that up their sleeve. The chances of being attacked halfway up were slim, but considering that this was their only supply hamper...he didn't want to take any more chances than was necessary.
 
The solitude, the cold. The unbreathing, suffocating stillness of darkest nights and sunless days. This was her reality, brought to flesh by the existence of this very island. There was something peculiar about it. Something that was… Familiar. She couldn’t quite place it, but it was there, itching in the back of her head. Was it Fate? Had she seen it in a vision somewhere? Was she thinking too deeply about it? Probably. She just found it… Ironic, she supposed. That as soon as she had embraced her fate, that darkness that had followed her throughout her entire life, as soon as she’d allowed it to engulf her… It brought her to him. Once she sat in the stillness, the silence… A voice… had finally reached her. Initially, this unyielding void seemed the equivalent of death. That embracing it meant… Losing herself completely, succumbing to the siren call of true defeat; to have her will broken completely. But now she realized, perhaps, it wasn’t so bad there as she thought it would be. Because at least now… She wasn’t alone. In that way, she can’t help but wonder, had he been here all along? Was this the unreachable place he would disappear to when they were kids? When he sat alone and his eyes seemed a million miles away, looking on at his parents’ estate.

She wondered about all the things he must have experienced to end up in this hole just like her. She wondered how strong he truly was to be able to accomplish all the things that he has with that same burden on his shoulders - one that had very nearly cracked her to pieces under its weight – and how, despite it all, he was still so kind and thoughtful. Still putting others first before himself. Perhaps she would never truly understand, but… She found, for once, she did not quite mind that. In fact, she enjoyed his mystery, the enigma of his mind and experiences. She did not feel the urge to push and pry and dissect every part of him to understand the way he worked, to figure out his weaknesses and how to get the upper hand over him. She was… Content, strangely, to simply have him there. Why was that? Perhaps, because he was a familiar face? No, that can’t be it. She wanted to know his story, she wanted to know what happened in that time they were apart, but at the same time… She was also in no rush to. Words did not concern her, for everything he had done up to that point had spoken far louder than words could ever hope to. And what they had told her was that… He respected her and saw her as his equal. Coming from someone of his standing… That was more meaningful than a thousand verbal compliments.

And so, she was content with the companionable silence that settled between them, and the leisurely pace they were taking through the dark, oppressive canopy. She always made certain to keep her eye on the river, just in case they ended up straying from it accidentally. She stole glances at him, of course, to make sure he was doing alright and offering him assistance whenever the terrain gave him too much trouble. She was fortunate that it was her arm that had been injured, not a load-bearing organ-like her abdomen or her legs. Thus, the trek had been merciful to her, but not so much to him. Several times, she needed to refrain herself from suggesting that he ride on one of his Pokemon. Though, she also didn’t want to undermine him by suggesting it. After all, he was insistent on getting by on his own efforts before, and that was something she always admired about him. Being as wealthy as he was, he wouldn’t even need to try to procure a strong team or gain access to league challenges. However, he had never settled for that. He carved out his own success.

She let out a soft chuckle, however, as he glanced at his broken watch. It was unlikely that it kept the correct time, however it was worth a shot, no? It might’ve been waterproof. But even so, there was just something amusing about watching him check his watch. Was it instinctive? Was he purposefully being silly? Either way, it was making her smile. But for him, that was never really something he struggled to do. “Late afternoon, hm?” She glanced up at the canopy, trying to somehow peer past the gloomy overcast that hung above. Even while she was up there, she hadn’t been able to spot the sun either. The cloud cover was not only expansive but, thick too it seemed. Speaking of making her smile, however, there he goes again with his comments on starting a forest fire. Truth be told, she was deathly afraid of fire, but if she had Nine with her, there wasn’t anything she couldn’t overcome. Including a harmless jest from an old friend. She gave him a small, amused roll of her eyes and then smiling in response to his comment. Just as she was about to say something, however, they stopped.

Their first obstacle had come into view. A vast, towering wall of rock that cut the river into a waterfall. This was good. This meant that they were getting close to the spot she had picked out from her free-fall, considering it was quite higher up in elevation for obvious reasons. After all, it was better to battle from a higher ground and minimize the risk of many natural disasters. That being said… They now had a problem. They had no fliers, and they needed to get on top of that rock wall. Unsurprisingly, Dante had already thought of some solutions they could explore, and she was quite impressed to learn that he had the foresight to build a lifting harness into their supply hamper. His idea was good, but… It also felt overly complicated. They were both tired, and she figured… Less would be more in this situation. She glanced toward Ariel and the harness Dante had crafted, looking over its design more carefully than she had before.

Ariados can climb on vertical surfaces, obviously. However, it seemed that the harness itself wouldn’t be able to withstand a 90-degree tilt without slipping off and clattering down. “We need a way for the harness to remain level while also preserving as much energy as we can… Your plan would very well work, but I think a simpler approach would serve us in our current states better.” She looked on at the cliff wall once more. “Though yes, it is possible to teleport, I would like to save that for when we really need it. That being said… And this may sound crazy… But what if we use Stone Edge to raise a platform that will take us to the top of the cliff? We’ll return any Pokemon who doesn’t need to be out for easier transport, adjust the speed at which the platform is being raised so we don’t get launched into the canopy, and have our Pokemon work together to make the platform big enough to fit all of us and minimise the… Sharp edges.”

And yes, it was a crazy idea. But if it worked… Well, it might save them a lot of time and effort, no? Of course, whether or not they did do it was entirely up to Dante at this point. As confident as she was that they would be able to pull it off, she was also self-aware enough to know that with her track record of self-endangerment, her judgement was not one to be trusted.
 
Name: Dante E. Young
Location: Beach
Current Team: Jason, Tails, Gary, Falcone, Ariel, Syl

Well, Dante had to disagree that the idea was complicated. Oh, she hadn't said it, but the fact that she believed her solution was simpler said it all, didn't it? He admitted, he did have a tendency to create plans that had a lot of moving parts and there was something to say about the elegance of a simpler solution but simpler solutions also had their flaws, too. The less factors a plan considered, the less likely one of those spinning plates was going to tumble to the floor and make a mess, yes, but it also meant that there were fewer buffers if things did go wrong. Less aspects to the plan meant that each mistake and each error were more likely to have a larger effect on the greater goal. Further, if somebody was working against you, then a simpler plan was much easier to predict because by its very nature, it was simple, easy, predictable. It was a delicate balance to strike, being complicated enough that it was clever and unexpected, but not so complicated that it was over-engineered with hundreds of turning gears that could be jammed or cracked or broken at a moment's notice. Certainly, his current plan had more elements to it than was perhaps necessary, but his first few thoughts did somewhat rely on him not having a gut wound.

But of course, Cassie had always been the one to take the more direct, more simple route, the path of least resistance, even when said plan was inherently risky and reckless. It was one of the things he had always liked about her; her willingness to take risks, her ability to put her neck on the line without a moment's hesitation, her ability to think of things and put plans into motion that no other trainer would dare do. It was a rare gift, and one that often ended in victory considering that other trainers simply didn't think the same way. She could employ tactics that they would write off as suicidal or too reckless to work, so she catch them completely by surprise. But employing stratagems that most considered reckless didn't mean that she was reckless, oh no. If you watched any of her matches, you'd be able to tell that any risk she took was carefully calculated ahead of time, and on the occasion when her sudden burst of aggression didn't win the day, she'd have a meticulously planned counter to whatever it was that had allowed the other trainer to escape defeat. The combination of sudden reckless abandon and cunning scheming was a tough one to beat.

Even so, there was a time to be reckless and direct, and there was a time to be cautious and reserved. Considering the state of both themselves and their teams, prudence was the name of the game. The more risks they took, the more injuries they might sustain and without the proper facilities to patch up those wounds quickly and cleanly, every bit of strength helped. His suggestion would take a great deal of set up and he would concede that they might not have the luxury of having the time to organise such an endeavour properly. It could be done and it would work, but perhaps now was not the time for an engineer's solution. Her plan was far faster and far more direct...but came with its own host of problems. For one, Stone Edge was not designed to be used in that way. The very nature of the attack would lift the rock out of the ground at great speeds, designed more to batter than to lift. Even if her Pokemon could control the pillar in such a way that it was large enough and sturdy enough to support all of their weights, it would still be a tall order to slow it into a nice, safe crawl. If it went too fast, they could be thrown from the top, or the Pokemon could lose control at any moment and have the pillar begin to list one way or the other.

Given their injuries and their lack of flying team members...such a fall could wind up being deadly. And that wasn't even considering the possibility that they would reach the top and immediately be attacked by a wild Pokemon and driven off the edge anyway. Stepping in blind was never a good idea, no matter where you were going. Simply put, it could work and was a simple, direct, elegant way of handling the situation...but it had too many risks for Dante to agree to it in good conscience. It was not a tactic that people in their position should be considering. If they were at full strength with a full team, then he would agree with her. But as it stood...it was too risky. However, her comment did give him an idea; he had forgotten that Ryu could learn Stone Edge - he blamed the constant throbbing in his side for distracting him - and even if it couldn't be used to lift them...it could certainly be used in a different way to assist them. He'd not really wanted to entertain it before because the prospective plan forming in his mind would either hurt him or humiliate him or both...but it seemed the best way forwards. He sighed softly.

"A good plan under normal circumstances," he said regretfully, "but I don't believe there are too many factors that could go wrong. We'd effectively be placing our lives in the hands of one Pokemon's concentration, and whilst I do not doubt any of our team's abilities...in our current state, the slightest unexpected occurrence could spell disaster." He shook his head slowly, leaning on his cane heavily as he hobbled towards the vast cliff face. "There's an easier way, though I don't like it." Pausing to brace himself, Dante lifted his cane up and pointed it at the place where the cliff and the ground met. "We use Stone Edge to craft a series of stair-like platforms leading up the side of the cliff. Falcone can use Bulldoze to smooth it into a ramp. It will be a long walk, but if we use Ariel to tie us together, it should be far safer. It will also allow us to send an advance team to the top to secure our ascent." Of course, then there was the matter of the Copperajah in the room...his condition. Walking up a steep slope on the side of a twenty-foot-tall cliff-face? That was not something a man with a gut wound could or even should do.

Even so, he might well have been tempted to give it a try if the steps he had taken thus far were not so achingly painful that he was beginning to see stars with every breath. His new scar pulled and twinged and ached with every movement, and when every breath was a fight not to hiss and wince in agony...how could he even contemplate climbing up such a surface? Alas, logically speaking, it was time to swallow his pride and acknowledge how bad a state he was in. He could only hope that Cassie would not think less of him for it; the notion sent a sharp, stabbing twinge echoing through his chest. It was painful...but also irrelevant. Their lives - her life - was much more important than her perception of him, and it always would be. He gave Cassie a wry glance and a rueful smile.


"I had wanted to impress you, but I do not believe me toppling to the ground in an exhaustion-induced coma would be particularly masculine,"
he mused dryly. "So I must regretfully swallow my pride and admit that I cannot make it up such an incline. Should we settle on this plan, I shall need to be carried by Falcone if I am to reach the top in one piece." A soft sigh echoed from his lips as he hobbled his way back over to join her, leaning heavily on Falcone when he arrived. "That is the best idea I have, I am afraid. If you have any alternatives that allow me to keep my dignity, I'm all ears. Otherwise...I believe that is our best option. What do you think?" He already knew the answer, he imagined. He knew it was a good plan, and their best and simplest bet. Simple, without moving parts, but also safe and secure. The best of both of their plans, frankly. But even though he knew it was likely their best option...that didn't mean he had to like it, now did it?
 
She will admit, her plan was not the safest or the most assuring of plans. It sounded dangerous, and in many ways, it was dangerous. Stone Edge, in all sense and purposes, was an attack move, after all, intended to inflict damage. With that knowledge, she understood Dante’s perspective perfectly. It was a mad idea only a mad woman like her would come up with, and it was a tall order for someone as careful and contemplative as Dante to be comfortable with it, especially in his critical condition. In a way, she felt that this exchange helped her understand the kind of man he had grown up to be. The way he thought and how he went about with things. They had come from such similar backgrounds and circumstances, and yet, they ended up walking completely different paths. Where she went off the beaten path to play adventurer after growing bored of the Champion’s life, he had stuck with it and continued to aim even higher.

They led such different lives. Him, always planning ten steps ahead and looking over his shoulder to make sure that no one was going to stab him in the back, and her, flying by the seat of her pants and living dangerously. He was a bastion, reliable and steady; and she was a wildfire, unpredictable and flighty. She had learned to use Pokemon moves in ways that helped her traverse dangerous terrains and survive in the wilderness which often required a simple idea, a pre-planned route, and a lot of improvisation as you went. After all, as things were with her, if something could go wrong, it will, and as a result of that, she had come to stop worrying about the variables. The hundreds and thousands of possibilities of all the things that could go wrong. She still thought about and anticipated for them, of course – otherwise, she would very much be dead – she had simply ceased worrying too much about it. After all, she lived in the moment.

Her team knew this as well, they were trained for it. She had no doubt in their abilities to think fast and adapt, but she was also aware that that only applied for when they were on their own. Situations where the only variables to think about were derived from herself, her team, and their environment. But now, well… She also had Dante, his team and their supplies to think about, which brought forth much more severe consequences should anything go wrong. Her Pokemon were used to working together as a team, they were used to each other’s tendencies and knew the formations that worked best for their individual skills, but they had never worked with Dante’s team before. That indeed could become the most troublesome part of it all.

In this case, he was right. They were in no condition to go with her style of traversing, nor did they have the energy to do the meticulous set up his initial plan required. His suggestion was a good compromise. Nothing too crazy or time-consuming. Instinctively, she went and placed her hand on his arm, as he lifted his cane to point at the base of the cliff. She looked there out of the corner of her eye, but she was much more concerned about him possibly losing his balance. He was doing his best to mask it, but it was painfully clear to her how much he was suffering. With every strained breath, every minute twitch of his facial muscles, she could tell that there was an entire world of hurt that he was hiding from her. She tried to be oblivious to it for his sake, and in many ways, her own sake too, but it was impossible to brush it aside now. She wanted to say something. She should.

However, what he said next was… Something she hadn’t quite expected, to say the least. He wanted to impress her? She was filled with confusion, more than anything. Why would he…? Did he… No. Now was probably not the time to wonder about those things, especially when she was at a very real and serious risk of losing him. She shook her head, chuckling. “I like it. Not too many moving parts, but not too risky either. Probably the best for us right now.” She flashed him a smile, even if her eyes betrayed the nonchalance of her words. Playfully, however, she nudged him. “And hey, if you won’t take a free ride, I gladly will. Though, if it's impressing me you're concerned about...” She chuckled. "Well, I suppose you always were an overachiever." She winked cryptically then nodded towards Ryu to take up position for the stairway. Once he was at an appropriate distance, she turned to face him and held her arm up at an angle, the tips of her fingers reaching the lip of the clifftop. “Ryu, Stone Edge. Cascade it.”

With a deep growl, the Lucario sank his front paws into the ground, burying it deep and bracing his hind legs. The ground began to rumble, and then, in rapid succession, pillars of stone shot from the flat surface of the ground, each one shooting taller than the other with great precision. They’d done something like this before, and Ryu was her partner for a reason. He was an exceptionally focused and driven Pokemon. He did not have any special breeding or championed blood in him, but he always came back twice as hard whenever he got knocked down, and that quality was precisely why the team had made it as far as they had, and probably the reason why she was still alive today.

And with that, Cassie then turned back to Dante and gestured in a playfully extravagant flourish towards the rocky staircase. “You’re up, old man.”
 
Name: Dante E. Young
Location: Beach
Current Team: Jason, Tails, Gary, Falcone, Ariel, Syl

It was shallow and prideful, perhaps, but he really did regret that he was going to have to submit himself to being carried up the hill like an infant or an invalid. There was no shame in being disabled or being unable to do something, of course, and he would never even consider that as a possible opinion he could hold, but there was something about admitting weakness that he was not exactly proud of. It was important to keep careful note of your strengths and weaknesses so that you could form a reliable and accurate assessment of your capabilities, of course, he wasn't arguing that point. Underconfidence could be as bad as overconfidence, after all, and you should never allow yourself to go in either direction. A slight miscalculation could mean the difference between victory and defeat...or in these kinds of situations, between life and death. It was simply that showing weakness and vulnerability put you at risk...and let other people know exactly where your limits were. And that was both frightening and risky.

He knew that Cassie wouldn't mock him or think less of him for it, of course, but the thought lingered in his mind that she might see him differently if she knew how shaky his grasp on his motor functions were. If she knew how much effort it took him to put one foot in front of the other, if she knew how much pain wracked his body with every breath, if she knew that even the presence of the bandaging was sending tingles of throbbing pain up his side...would she think less of his ability? Would she think him weak, or melodramatic? Would she place him with all of the other men and women she'd met in her life that had disappointed her with their lack of skill? Would she view him as a mere liability, something worth abandoning if it could save her own life? Whilst being underestimated had its advantages, the notion that Cassie could ever view him that way was not one that he relished. Eventual battle be damned, it was important to him that Cassie see him as an equal. That he was able to prove his worth to her, that after everything she'd been through and everybody who had let her down, she knew that she could rely on him.

The concern in her eyes as she reached out to steady him therefore had a conflicting effect. On the one hand, he reviled it. He saw it and worried that it was the concern she would have for somebody unsuited for an environment, somebody she would have to look after and babysit to ensure their survival. He worried that he had lost whatever esteem she had for him by displaying his vulnerability. But on the other hand...he knew that was silly. Intellectually, he had recognised enough of her behaviour to know that she did not waste her breath or her compassion on fools or incompetents. Her reaction to the passenger's plight during the Gyarados attack was an example of that; she did not care about other people as a matter of course, and after everything she'd been through, who could blame her? She only cared when she had a personal connection...and a personal respect or value for that individual. That she was concerned for him should make him feel reassured that she did not see him merely as a liability or a hindrance, that she did value and respect him...and that somewhere inside, she cared for him, too.

That notion, that idea - as impossible as it seemed - bolstered his spirits just a little. He wasn't quite certain why, but he wanted - no, needed - her to care about him. Deep down, he supposed he would always be that reserved, cautious ten year old who had never really been able to forget how that mischievous little Purrloin of a girl had made him feel. So despite the slight embarrassment of exposing his weakness, he managed to give her a small, shaky smile that only just hid the throbbing pain pulsing through his body, echoing out from his gut with every passing second. He let out a soft chuckle at her teasing words, shaking his head dryly and doing his best not to dwell on her cryptic remark. An overachiever? Had he already impressed her, already won her- no. No, now was not the time to idle in wanton daydreams. He could fantasise about that eventuality later, if they survived. But he couldn't deny...he felt a small spring of hope blossom in his chest that maybe...just maybe she felt the same glimmer of something for him as he did for her. What that glimmer was, he wasn't certain. But he did know that he hoped it was reciprocated. In any case, he had a job to do, so he answered her jibe with a small, slightly pained quirk of his lips. "Falcone is strong enough that a single body won't hinder her much. I don't see any reason why we couldn't both take advantage." He paused, as if contemplating. "Though space might be an issue. You may have to sit in my lap." He offered her a lifted eyebrow in response as she moved to instruct Ryu on his role in the plan. Meanwhile, he turned to Ariel and gestured to the cliff with his walking stick.

"Mountain Traversal,"
he said simply. Ariel chittered through her mandibles, then set to work ejecting a great deal of silk from her mouth, forelegs spinning it into various shapes and strands. She would need to eat a great deal to replenish her nutrients after today, but...as needs must, he supposed. Leaving her to it, he hobbled over across the clearing towards Cassie, watching as Ryu set about creating an uneven, staggered staircase-like rock arrangement that led up the side of the plateau. He shot Cassie a wry sidelong glance as he moved past her, shaking his head. "Kids these days," he muttered, just loud enough for her to hear. "Back in my day, they knew how to show some respect! Maybe you need somebody to teach you some manners, girl," he scoffed, though his eyes did hold more than a little bit of a twinkle of mischief. Of course...he didn't want that at all. Cassie wasn't Cassie without that sassy attitude of hers, now was she? He turned his attention back towards the cliff, Falcone on his heels. He gestured ahead. "Falcone. Terraform Three."

Falcone rumbled her assent and stepped past Dante towards the lowermost stone edge platform. She paused for a moment, then threw her arms down onto the ground, causing a large tremor to ripple through the immediate area with her immense power. A splintered clump of earth shook loose from the ground, which Falcone picked up in both hands and proceeded to beat the raised platform into a more accessible ramp. Once the foothold had been established, Falcone proceeded to walk up the length of it, stomping her feet as if she were a child having a tantrum, pounding the wide walkway flat whilst beating the next rock into submission. She made her way up the emerging path, stomping and beating the track into a passable roadway, and Dante largely left her to it as he turned and returned to Ariel. Stooping down, he took her first few finished pieces in his hand, holding one up towards Cassie.

Though made of silk and nearly translucent in its narrower areas, it was very clearly a rudimentary climbing harness. If you fell off of a cliff and were only attached by a belt, you risked massive damage to your spine upon halting. With a dedicated harness, however, the impact was spread out across your body and injury was far less likely. It was a simple imitation, but it had braces for arms, legs, waist, chest and shoulders and an obvious point where four strands of silk could be attached for safety. This was actually the first time they'd needed to use this particular plan, but he was glad that he had thought to drill Ariel in their construction; they might not need such utility very often, but when they did, it was likely to be a life threatening situation.
"Put this on. Ariel is making one for each of us and our team members. If one of us falls, hopefully the combined weight of the rest of us will stop us falling very far." Of course, the rope Ariel was going to prepare would have a maximum weight load by design so that if Falcone were to fall, she wouldn't drag the rest of them with her...but he wasn't going to say that out loud. He wasn't one to believe in such things as "jinxing it," but in their current situation, it made no sense to risk him being wrong, now did it?
 

StellarWind Elsydeon

Armblades Ascendant
Staff member
Administrator
Sorry for interrupting, but. There's quite a bit of unnecessary use of colour tags in this thread and these are really only to be used when strictly necessary as per our global rules. Not so much the case here. Kindly stop that.
 
The staircase had come along nicely. Had she been in better shape – and by that, she meant, of course, if her arm wasn’t about to come cleanly off her shoulder – she could have easily scaled it without much issue. She suddenly missed the freedom of being able to do as she pleased, unburdened by possessions or the limitations of her own body. She missed running wild and free, following where the wind took her and leaving all her worries behind. Running from them. But she was not that girl anymore. She did not have that youth nor luxury at this point in her life. She was coming into her 20s, and yet it felt as though she had existed as long as time itself. Her current physical state only served to make things worse. Not only did she feel old, but she also had about the same physical abilities as an old woman too. Not that she would ever let Dante see it, of course. She was having too much fun teasing him for being an old man and letting him call her an old woman back would give him too much ammunition. Not to mention, she was certain he was already worrying about entirely too many things at the moment – namely, their survival – and she did not want to be another thing weighing him down.

However strange as it was, Cassie felt… Optimistic. All things considered, the odds were in their favour. They had their full team with them and, save for a couple of members on each of their sides, were all in good, functional health. The environment seems to be that of a colder climate, so they won’t need to worry about heat or insects. They would be able to store their rations for longer, and between both their survival skills, shelter would not be an issue either. Compared to the odds her life had put her against, this was very much favourable. They would survive this. She was certain, and it was strange for her. She was never certain of anything in her life. All her actions and decisions, every overthinking thought was spurred on solely because she was uncertain (she had her mother to thank for that, really), but it was different this time.

This time, she had… Dante. A person she knew without a doubt would be able to hold his own and have her back at the same time. He had the most brilliant mind on the planet, and with him by her side, then… How could she fail? Even with an injury that would have completely put her out of commission, he was still pushing forward without a single complaint. He was offering ideas and entertaining her obnoxious nonsense of interactions. And more than that, it was simply nice to have him back after so long, and despite their current circumstances, she was excited to share an adventure with him again finally. To relive those days, they spent running through the woods behind their backyard, exploring a world that felt so vast and magnificent. Surely, he must feel that same call, that same beckoning of the wild for them to come to explore it. Even between the thrum of the aching pain of her shoulder, she could hear it calling out to her like a long, lost friend. This longing was the true mark of a trainer, surely. To want to brave the unknown with your companions by your side.

She hadn’t felt that way in a very long time.

And that was precisely why her priority right now was to get them both fed, healed, and rested. She was restless, but not from fear. She had decided she was done surviving. She was hungry to live. And it started right then, in their first few steps up the cliff, to get to the top. "Falcone is strong enough that a single body won't hinder her much. I don't see any reason why we couldn't both take advantage." He paused as if contemplating. "Though space might be an issue. You may have to sit in my lap."

Cassie let out a genuine bout of laughter at this, one that she hadn’t been able to make for a long while. He had instructed his Ariados to spin some roping, possibly safety lines, but Cassie was more interested in Dante’s proposition. “You know, as tempting as that is, I don’t think our fragile bodies should really be stacked together like that.” She smiles at this, a more genuine and sweeter, albeit just as playful smile. “Of course, that just means we’ll have to get better quickly so that we can.” It was a playful remark, yes, but the implied words held just as strong a message: ‘Promise me you’ll get better soon, ok?’

And that smile remained on her face as he walked past her, observing his movements to ready herself if he were to falter and to admire his incredible physique. Unfortunately, he managed to catch her red-handed when he looked back to meet her gaze. She was not too ashamed of herself, though. However, with the path now being cleared, Cassie was eager to get moving again when she approached Dante to take the web constructs that Ariel had made. She tried to hold it up as best as she could with one hand, but from what it could tell, it was some harness made from fine Ariados silk. It looked quite fashionable, in fact.

She hummed to herself, outwardly admiring the product but internally calculating the amount of silk reserve it must have taken Ariel to create them. Added on by the fact that she had already used quite a considerable amount to bandage both Dante and Gary’s wounds, she wasn’t certain it would be wise to use up more of her reserve on some harnesses. “No, she should save her web reserves. We can return any Pokemon we don’t need back to their pokeballs for now, but she should only need to make three. One for me, one for you, and one for Falcone. Her weight should be enough to anchor both of us, and we don’t want to accidentally restrain Ariel because she has our supplies. She can walk on walls. Falling won’t be an issue for her. Ryu won’t need one because he will be spotting us as we climb. He has to be able to move freely.”

Her eyes roam over to the newly formed ramp, and she nods to herself. “But we should make a cover for Ariel’s harness. It’s a bumpy climb, and we don’t want the supplies to tip out. Oh, and,” She hands the harness back to him with a cheeky smile. “I’ll need help putting this on. Bad arm, unfortunately.”
 
Name: Dante E. Young
Location: Beach
Current Team: Jason, Tails, Gary, Falcone, Ariel, Syl

Honestly, Dante found himself worrying about the immediate future. Ordinarily, his survival skills would be more than up to the task of establishing a base camp and organising attempts to attract attention to get him off of the island. Ordinarily, finding food and shelter and water and building the basic comforts needed for a longer stay would be child's play to him; he wasn't much of a craftsman, but he'd practiced enough that a basic chair and hammock and maybe a door were not beyond his capabilities. They would be crude, of course, but you didn't need to be stylish out in the wilds. Ordinarily, supplies and defence wouldn't be a problem, and he'd be able to escape atop Tails or Jason without much hassle. But that was the problem, wasn't it? This wasn't an ordinary circumstance.

Ordinarily, he wouldn't have a gaping gut wound that pulled at his muscles and sent lances of agony through his body with every sudden movement. Ordinarily, he wouldn't get tired just from climbing a shallow incline thanks to the bruised and battered state of his legs and ribs. Ordinarily, his team wouldn't be running low on basic healing supplies, and Gary wouldn't be out of commission entirely. Ordinarily, he wouldn't have just fought an entire Murder of Gyarados and nearly drowned. That was why he was worried. Every step felt a little harder. Every movement was more ponderous than the last, every breath a little more rattling, every rise of his lungs more strained and aching. He did his best not to show it, of course - and it seemed to be working, considering Cassie had not yet called him on his state - but even his composure had its limits. He was going to have to succumb to his wounds eventually...he just hoped that he was at the proposed sight of their base camp before that happened.

Oh, he would make it through this of course - he always did, and with Cassie by his side, he knew that they could handle anything that came their way - but he had to worry about his injury nonetheless. Movement and exertion would make it worse, and in a foreign climate, a foreign land, with foreign environments? That was just asking for infection. That was the thing about serious wounds like his; infection killed far more often than blood loss or internal damage, and since he didn't currently have any of his medical supplies - having lost them when the ship went down - it was looking very likely that that would be his fate if he couldn't find natural antibiotics in the surrounding area. That would be item number 2 on their gathering list, he imagined...assuming they could work out which plants were medicinal and how to tell them apart from the toxic ones. Again, the problem with a foreign ecosystem; most of his flora and fauna knowledge might well end up being completely useless.

But despite all of that, he also found himself...optimistic. Yes there were risks, yes there were challenges...but he was with Cassie. Cassie. She had faced odds much steeper than this in her life, and she was one of the few people that he could genuinely say without reservation that he trusted. That he knew she could handle herself, and if it came down to it, would look after him as well. She had his back, he knew that in his heart of hearts, and that made him feel far, far safer than he perhaps had any right to feel. And what's more...she was able to make him smile. Despite the mounting agony, despite the laces of pain threading their way through him with every breath, just seeing her smile and wink, that twinkling expression of mischief sparkling in her eyes, was enough to make him want to grin like a buffoon. Especially when she responded to his teasing with a flirtation of her own. He lifted an eyebrow, as if scandalised by what she was suggesting. "Why, Miss Moraeux-Michaels! I was merely suggesting a comfortable alternative to exertion while injured. I'm not quite sure what kind of girl you take me for." He hesitated for a moment, then gave her a wink...and a gentle, almost tender nod as if saying 'I'll do my best.' It was new, having somebody besides Grace and his team concerned for him. And it being Cassie...he imagined that he liked it.

But then the moment was gone, and the real business began. Dante nodded, of course; her suggestion was sensible and made a great deal of sense. They didn't need everybody out of the balls to walk up the side of the cliff, and conserving Ariel's silk reserves was a good idea. She still had a lot left in the tank - he always made sure to feed her well before any expedition - but that didn't mean they could be reckless with it. He would have considered the conservation of her silk too, but it had slipped his mind between everything else and the frankly distracting pain in his side. He did feel a little silly that he'd had to be reminded of it, but he had a possibly fatal gut wound, so...he supposed a mistake or two could be excused. But no more mistakes. That was his one that he was allowed, no more. "Of course, you are correct," he said, recalling all but Falcone and Ariel to their balls. They gave him concerned looks as he pulled them back into their balls, which tore at his heart...but he had to stay strong. For them, if nothing else.

Following that, he took the harness from her hands with a nod - and a grimace, when she turned around, a fresh lance of pain spreading through him that he disguised with a small grunt - and helped gently guide the harness onto her in return. He made certain to pull it tight - but not too tight - and helped thread her arm into the small brace-support he'd had Ariel create on Cassie's harness. It would let her move relatively freely, since he knew she hated being restricted, but would at least offer a little more support than otherwise. After pulling it tight and attaching the silken cord to the back, he stepped away with a nod. "I believe you're correct," he said airily, "It looks very fashionable." She hadn't said it, but he'd seen her appraising it as she'd looked at it, and he'd seen that glimmer in her eye that was all too familiar from a lifetime with Grace. He knew the look a beautiful woman got when she saw something she liked. "I have to imagine that when we publish our tell-all memoirs of this land, these harnesses will end up rather chic. Especially when the great Cassandra Moreaux Michaels, discoverer of a brand new biome, is seen in public wearing them. Stranger fashions have happened, after all..."

His eye tracked up and down, regarding the way the harness sat on her shoulder, framed and pressed up her chest, constricted around her waist and brought attention to her long, supple legs and firm backside. He didn't leer, of course - he was looking respectfully! - but it was hard not to notice how the tightness of the frame brought out certain other types of tightness, too. He cleared his throat and moved his eyes back to hers. "Though I doubt that any woman alive could wear it as well as you do." He blinked sharply, surprised at his own boldness, then cleared his throat, quickly moving on before they could dwell on the impropriety of what he had just said. He did his best to stop the small blush that dusted against his cheeks, focusing on what really mattered. "Now then," he said, clearing his throat a second time, just a little flustered, "Whilst I would love to show my independence in this matter...I believe it would be wise to ask for your assistance in return."

He held up his harness towards her, and turned around partly to give her an angle to slip the harness on, and partly to hide his own face as he smoothed it over to regain his composure after his flirtation. "Would you mind returning the favour, please? My injuries would make donning it myself rather awkward." They'd been flirting all afternoon and even before that, on the ship, but...maybe he'd gone a little too far. Little suggestions of casual affection and gentle contact was one thing. But outright raking his eyes over her body and calling her hot? That was another matter entirely! He just hoped he hadn't crossed the line. He didn't think he did, but...well, he was not always the best at predicting social interactions or understanding charm versus boorishness, so it was always possible he had disastrously misread the situation. He didn't think he did, but really, that was up to Cassie, now wasn't it? All he could do right at that moment was disguise his shame and wait for her to either return the flirtation, or slap him. Or have Ryu slap him for her. There really wasn't an in-between for how forward he'd been, now was there?
 
As much as she wanted to carry on for his sake, it became more difficult for her to ignore how he was slowly fading. He hid it well, and anyone who didn't know him half as well as she did or was simply not looking closely enough, they would surely not have noticed. But she did. She knew how difficult it was for him to not seethe in pain or remain upright. He was struggling, and she could only imagine how much agony he was experiencing. It was in the way he breathed, the shake of each exhale and the tightness of each inhale. The way blood drained from his face, making his eyes look darker, more tired—the pallor of his lips. The secret, lingering gazes on the path ahead as if wondering how on earth he would make it there. She saw it all, yet, she bit back her words every single time, strictly out of respect for him and trust in his ability to make it through. Not that she wanted him to keep pushing himself this way.

However, she knew how he might take her worrying over him. For people like them, it was a blow to the pride to receive sympathy from others. It made you feel incapable, unworthy, or Arceus-forbid, pitiable. It made light of your grit as a trainer. But she also knew that that was true to a point. She had experienced times in her life now where she had wanted that care and sympathy. Times when it was all too much and the only thing she wanted was for someone to ask her how she was doing. If she was okay. Those were times when she had wanted people to care, and yet, she had made a habit out of assuring people that she was okay that nobody would ever think she wasn't. She never wanted to be in that position again, but perhaps it was presumptuous for her to assume that Dante would wish for the same thing. What could she do? She cared for him, that was undeniable, and to see him struggle this way… It was unbearable. She had her own injuries to worry about, yes, but she was used to the excruciating pain. Where her injury was located, it was easier for her to isolate.

She could see him slipping, and if it anyone else, it would have brought her great amusement and pleasure. But because it was him… It was different. They recalled their Pokemon back into their Pokeballs. For him, only leaving Ariel and Falcone, and for her, leaving only Ryu. The Lucario observed Dante balefully, sensing the amount of pain he was experiencing and was perhaps plotting to take advantage of it in some way. He never was very accepting of the male trainers who happened to catch her fancy. Of course, he was also trained well enough to restrain himself from acting on his suspicions. Unless warranted. He let out an indignant huff as Cassie waved him over. She instructed him to take out the tarp Nine had found on the beach from Ariel's saddle, but he still watched Dante like a Talonflame when he helped Cassie into her harness.

For Cassie, it was a bittersweet moment. On the one hand, she relished in the attention and touches that Dante was giving her, but at the same time, she was keenly aware that it was a tall request for him. It made her second-guess herself. Perhaps it was selfish of her to ask for his help when he was in far greater need of help himself. Maybe she was pushing the boundaries of their playful interaction too far. Perhaps- her breath hitched in her throat. The pain shot from her shoulder and sunk its clawed grip into her brain, but the most it would receive from her was an annoyed groan. She was surprised to find the harness had a tailored brace, but really, it was to be expected from the detail-oriented Dante. It alleviated some of the pressure that had been on her injury, and for that, she was thankful.

Of course, then he said something quite curious. "I believe you're correct," he said airily, "It looks very fashionable." She raised an eyebrow at this when she turned to face him once again. She had indeed thought it when she first laid eyes on the harness, but how did he…? She let out a soft chuckle and a smile. It seems she wasn't the only person who was paying close attention. It both amazed and scared her, of course, how he was able to know exactly what she was thinking just by the way she looked. If she were to ever go up against him in battle, she was in big trouble. At the same time, it also pleased her to know that he was paying attention to her so closely. "It can benefit from a few minor alterations," She noted. If there was one thing that has not changed, it was that she very much enjoyed his attention, and so she gave him a little twirl to show off for him. "But once they see me wearing it, it will surely become the newest trend in Lumoise City couture."

However, the way his eyes traced down her body certainly did not go unmissed. In part, she had been twirling just a tad slow to give him the best view she could. It certainly did quite a bit for a girl's pride. There had been a time a few years ago when she could barely eat, and thus, she had become relatively thin and malnourished. Her muscles had wasted away, her hair was falling out, and she hardly looked like herself anymore. She worked very hard from that day on to get back to where she was, and it was gratifying to know that that work had paid off if Dante's wandering gaze was of any indication.

She was pleasantly surprised, actually. She had expected him to roll her eyes at her playfully and laugh her twirl off as an act of silliness, but he took her in appreciatively. He looked at her the way a man looked at a woman, and it made her keenly aware that they had both grown up. It made her heart flutter excitedly in her chest, and she could not restrain the pleased little smile that had crept up on her face when she faced him again. "Though I doubt that any woman alive could wear it as well as you do." He seemed just as surprised as she was, trying to avert the subject as quickly as he could, but she stored his compliment close to her heart. Giggling softly, she jested, "Why, in that case, I might just become la toast of Lumoise."

She took his harness with a small, affectionate smile on her face. She said nothing, for now. Letting him turn around so she could help him in turn, which she did so carefully. She made sure to push the straps away from his wound to ensure that they weren't digging into him. All the while, she admired the shape of his back and the broadness of his shoulders. Not many men could achieve such a perfect form. It had to do with training and diet in some parts, but for the most part, it was simply genetics, and Dante had indeed won the genetic lottery. He was truly a sight to behold with his rich, black hair and stunning blue eyes, glittering like clear oceans underneath a cloudless blue sky. He had the perfect jawline, the perfect profile, balanced perfectly between sharp, smooth, and chiselled. Not a single aspect of his appearance disappointed, and that included his fashion sense. His handsomeness was intimidating. Unmatched.

Yet still, he had so much more to him. His frightening intelligence, his maturity, his calm. The way he held his composure. The dedication, determination, and elegance he exuded in every little thing he did. How much he cared and loved those close to him.

He truly was a rare breed.

She carefully tightened the harness to a snug fit with her hand and teeth, and she suddenly understood just why he had been looking so closely before. When he turned back around, she wondered how he somehow managed to look even better than before. The harness did wonders on him, too. It highlighted the broadness of his shoulders and his trim waist, embracing him in an almost seductive way. He was so beautiful, and she cursed herself for dragging him into this predicament with her. She always had the worst luck, and her bad luck had gravely wounded him. Her heart… Ached for him. She couldn't help herself anymore. “C’est magnifique, Dante.” She whispered softly, her eyes flicking to his wound momentarily before returning back to his face. "You might just give me a run for my money for toast of Lumoise." She smiled softly, then reached her good hand out, carefully touching his face with her gloved hand and running her fingers across his cheek. "Except, there's something on your face..." There wasn't. She just wanted to touch him, to communicate her affection somehow. She was deathly worried for him. He had to get better. He had to.

She pulled her hand back, then looked over to Falcone. "We should get going. The sooner we can get to a safe spot, the better." 'Rest. Please.' Her eyes whispered. She then proceeded to help Ryu tie the tarp over the top of Ariel's saddle. It wasn't perfect, but it was good enough, just like their current physical states.
 
Name: Dante E. Young
Location: Beach
Current Team: Jason, Tails, Gary, Falcone, Ariel, Syl

It wasn't an easy thing to admit, but he knew he'd reached his limits. It wasn't the exhaustion or the throbbing pain in his side or how his leg was starting to go to sleep - or, more accurately, outright faint from the pressure - or even the sheer height of the cliff they had to scale finally settling on him with its daunting size. It was the fact that the simple act of Cassie tightening the harness around his body sent a lance of pain through him so intense that it very nearly broke through his stoic facade long enough to elicit a cry of pain. That might not seem like much, but when you'd spent a lifetime mastering the art of never betraying your weakness, of keeping a poker face steady right up until the very last moment come hell or high water...it was severe. The searing, burning lance of raw agony shot through him like a swarm of Ninjasks, tearing and stabbing and clawing and biting at every nerve along the way. His expression faltered and twisted into one of pure pain as Cassie tightened the harness around him, but he was able to disguise it in time thanks to their relative angles meaning that she couldn't get a look at his face. He also managed to bite back the grunt of pain - barely - and reduce it to a simple sharp intake of breath.

He was in worse shape than he'd feared, it seemed. If a simple harness fastening could make his knees tremble and his body quake, if he broke into a cold sweat and sharp, rapid breathing at just the slightest change of pressure on his wound. It was difficult to accept, especially in front of a woman he found that he so desperately wanted to impress, but...well, he could handle her opinion of him lowering a little if it meant not dying of his wounds. It was important to always maintain an accurate and realistic assessment of your capabilities, and that was doubly true for when you were injured. You helped nobody by collapsing, and asking for help was not weakness or wretchedness. It was simply acknowledging that there were certain things that couldn't be done on your own. Knowing that fact was what separated him from the merely 'good' trainers that he had long since left in the dust. Normally he would have already clambered into Falcone's grip...but it seemed that Cassie's proximity activated that primal "Male Pride" part of his brain that he'd otherwise long since suppressed.

Though that Male Pride was also more than aware of Cassie's eyes roaming his body with barely disguised interest. He could feel her gaze raking over his back and waist and arms with the same intensity that his own eyes had drank her in a moment before, and whilst ordinarily such attention would make him somewhat uncomfortable if he wasn't in the mood to entertain such dalliances, he found that despite his exhaustion and injuries...knowing that it was Cassie devouring him with her eyes put him in the mood to enjoy it. It was an odd sensation, feeling flattered and revved up while also sporting a gut wound, but considering that Cassie had always been the woman best able to elicit a reaction out of him, it was perhaps to be expected. He nearly found himself preening and flexing under her gaze, but he managed to stop himself just in time before he allowed that piece of embarrassing theatre to become a reality. He was many things, but a preening Persian wasn't one of them. Vanity was for lesser trainers.

But still...it was hard not to feel a little satisfied that he had managed to catch her eye, and the thought of standing by her side in a fancy Lumoise party, suitors buzzing all around her but both of them knowing that she only had eyes for him was...tantalising to say the least. Though granted, being safely in civilisation and away from this hostile, unexplored, possibly fatal island was alluring enough without the presence of a beautiful, charming, intelligent woman hanging off of his arm. He chuckled to himself dryly at the realisation, shaking his head and doing his best to ignore the spiderwebbing pain that was beginning to spread from his side now that the pressure had been adjusted. He winced as he turned around, though he still wore that small, sly, wry smile.

Whilst he did his best, the relief he felt at her not being offended by his remark was palpable in his gaze. That had been a weight pressing down on his shoulders as soon as he opened his mouth, and when she simply giggled and returned the compliment - and the look - the pressure had turned into elation that set his head spinning with dopamine at the high. She didn't just not mind it; she was flirting back! That was...unexpected, but most certainly welcome! Of course, it did have the unfortunate consequence of encouraging him. Maybe it was his Male Pride, maybe it was the fact that they were in a life or death situation and the chances were that they'd meet a grizzly end before he had to face any consequences for overstepping the line, or maybe it was just his bloodloss and the throbbing in his side making him lightheaded...but he felt himself emboldened to take the flirtation one step further. His eyes turned mischievous as she touched his cheek...but as she moved away, he caught her hand, letting it rest along his cheek a little longer, savouring the soft, gentle touch of her fingers on his face before she pulled away. He caught that look in her eye, and he nodded quietly. He would rest. He knew he had to, and Falcone was standing by specifically to give him that support. It would be illogical and dangerous not to use it.

But his mind was on other things. "Why compete?" He countered with a small, suggestive smile. "I'm certain that a couple can be the talk of the town, no? With our powers combined, no other couple could possibly stand in our way." His eyes sparkled with a sudden flare of humour as an amusing thought occurred to him. "Join me, and we can rule the Social Scene of Lumoise together!" He said, putting just a little hamminess into his tone, as if referencing a child's bedtime story villain trying to tempt the hero into switching sides. Not too much, though. He found that despite his hamminess, he was being at least a little serious. His voice pitched lower, more serious, though keeping that light air of mischief and playfulness that she seemed to enjoy from him so much. "Certainly, there's no other woman I'd want by my side rather than you. Nobody else could ever possibly compare."

He didn't expect her to throw herself into his arms, of course - given his injuries, he didn't think he'd stay conscious if she did so - but given the situation...what did he have to lose? And she truly was a magnificent woman who deserved to know how amazing she was. And if he was going to possibly die here, he wasn't going to give up any of these moments they had to uncertainty. He'd already crossed that boundary, so it was perhaps best to keep going...and see what lay beyond. He turned away, then, to take those few small steps towards Falcone, steadying himself and preparing to clamber into her arms...though he did move admittedly slowly. Partly from his injury...and partly to see if Cassie would follow him after his only-half-playful suggestion. Because whilst it had started as a joke...he found that he truly did want it. Want her. And given her behaviour so far...was it truly too much to hope for that she might want him in return? Maybe...maybe not. But there was only one way to find out.
 
He knew, of course, that there had been nothing on his face when she reached up and touched him. He could have rebuffed her touch, yet, he didn’t. He welcomed it, in fact. Encouraged it. And then, he made it last for just a little longer. His hand over her own, so large and strong that she can’t help but admire the man her childhood friend had blossomed into. No matter what, she was going to make sure he survived. In part, because she knew the world would suffer a much greater loss if it were him, and if keeping him alive would become her only contribution to this selfish, oblivious world, then that would have still made her life worthwhile.

Growing up, Cassie had never been much of an optimist. Even when she wanted to be, her parents went to great lengths to crush those hopeful thoughts and whims. Perhaps not intentionally, most of the time. But she had always been the kind of person to see the glass half empty. She put in her work, never saw it as enough, so she kept working and working and never stopped. She was always improving, always upscaling but that paranoia had never left. In a way, that was a good thing. She was overly cautious, perhaps. But in recent years, that hasn’t been something she experienced, simply because she had nothing to lose. Until now.

Already, she could feel that long-dead part of herself starting to resurface. As she secured the tarp over Ariel’s saddle, she was calculating, planning, listing out all the things she needed to do as soon as they got to their campsite and sorting her priorities. Healing Dante’s wounds came first. Dante had a Sylveon, which would spare some of Ryu and Peridot’s heals for her, but if his Sylveon wasn’t trained for that, then she would have Ryu and Peridot use the last bit of their heals on him. While that’s happening, she would build shelter, start a fire, make food for their Pokemon and for Dante to recover their strength, sort out some bedding, clean out Dante’s wounds and change his dressings, and then tend to her own wound. ‘No, but what about-‘ Just as she began to overthink, she heard Dante’s voice call out from behind her and grabbing her attention. She turned around to look at him, his playful expression immediately putting her at ease, and she raised an eyebrow in amusement.

She had never seen Dante act like this before. So… Theatrical and lively. She can’t help but wonder if an infection was coming on, or if he had somehow sensed her anxious thoughts or something else entirely. Yet despite her worry, she was appreciative. She was trying to be strong for him, but perhaps he was suggesting that she didn’t need to worry too much. Of course, she had no doubt that he could look after himself, yet, the possibility that she could lose him was still there and she simply did not want to leave anything up to chance. And perhaps, he knew that too. Perhaps, he was just as uncertain about his survival as she was, and he wanted to make every moment he had left count.

She hated the thought of that. She hated it very much.

Cassandra did not fear death. She had been at its doorstep countless times before and she no longer worried about passing through that threshold, but if it were him… Well, perhaps it was selfish, but what would she do with herself if he died? No… Perhaps a better question was, what would she do to herself if he died? She knew in no uncertain terms that she would blame herself, and she would never be able to forgive herself. She would see him each time she closed her eyes and she would not stop regretting the moment she hadn’t tried harder to convince him to escape the ship. Would she be able to move on with her life with his death piled on top of everything else she had lost? She didn’t know, and she didn’t want to think about that. She couldn’t afford to right now.

However, what she did know was that one thing she would regret more than anything was not taking her chance while she had it. And he was giving her that chance, right then, with his invitation alone. She may be a fool, but she was not foolish enough to refuse that. Slowly, she allowed a smile to pull at her lips. She nodded at Ryu to take up position by the slope and then patted Ariel gratefully, letting her know she was good to go. And then, she made her way towards him, approaching Falcone and positioning her self on the opposite side from where Dante was. She met his gaze then and smiled back earnestly, chuckling softly, “Even better.” She reached up, and idly, affectionately, brushed a strand of his jet black hair out of his breathtaking blue eyes. “It’s lonely at the top. And there’s no other company I would enjoy more than yours.”

Of course, what was left unsaid spoke volumes louder. She wanted him too.
 
Name: Dante E. Young
Location: Beach
Current Team: Jason, Tails, Gary, Falcone, Ariel, Syl

Honestly, whilst he'd been mostly joking - at least on the surface, to try and alleviate the tension - there had been an underlying current of...seriousness to the exchange. A sincerity to the question and the offer that, despite his attempts to keep under control, had bubbled out into the ether, making the presence of his feelings known. Cassie had never been a girl who had been particularly free or comfortable with her emotions - given who her mother was, he wasn't surprised - and he doubted the intervening years and their associated trauma was going to make that guarded nature any less prominent. So the notion of accidentally revealing his own affections before they'd properly had time to simmer, before he had considered a proper course of action...it was worrying, because as insular as Cassie was with her own emotions, she had always been able to pick them up very easily in others. To assume that she couldn't understand what he had accidentally allowed himself to imply was underestimating her...and if there was one woman you should never underestimate, it was Cassie.

So to say his confession inspired a great deal of anxiety and uncertainty within him was an understatement, to say the least. He knew that she wouldn't deliberately hurt him - they were old friends, after all, and even if that weren't the case, pragmatism dictated that they stay on the same side for at least as long as it took to escape - but a rejection was never going to go smoothly. He braced himself for the hesitation and withdrawl, the moment where that look of regret crossed her face, the hesitation that would tell him that she was trying to work out how best to rebuff him for thinking her flirtation was anything more than a joke about a crush she'd used to have what felt like three lifetimes ago. It was unlike him to be nervous about a social interaction, but Cassie...she was different to the normal people he dealt with who would disappear from his life in naught but a moment. She was his oldest friend, the only connection he had left to his childhood besides Grace herself...and somebody he very much cared for more than almost anybody else he had ever met.

But the rejection did not come. Her expression turned gentle; whilst her lips didn't lose their smirk and her eyes didn't diminish that mischevious, playful smirk of hers...it softened in an undeniable way that told him all he needed to know. That wasn't the look of somebody who was about to deliver bad news, he knew that much. Her fingers moving up to brush his hair out of his eyes was not the caress of somebody about to push somebody away. There was a look of...acceptance, and affection, and reciprocated desire that made his heart soar for a moment before it remembered that excessive activity was going to agitate his wound. His gut throbbed at the sudden surge of high-pressured blood, but it faded away in the face of a more jubilant expression that he had not had the pleasure of feeling for entirey too long. An ever so slight smile flickered across his lips as his hand reached up to catch her fingers as they brushed his skin. He gave her hand a light, gentle squeeze before he let them drop away.

"It's only lonely at the top if you allow it to be," he said quietly, tilting his head. "And I assure you, Cassie, you are never going to feel the bite of that isolation ever again. Not if I have anything to say about it." It was simple. Even if her affection eventually cooled and she decided that the middle of a high-stakes adventure in the face of death was not the best place to make a life-changing commitment - which would be entirely reasonable - and that they would not work together in the real world...that wouldn't stop him from supporting her. The whole world had been against her, the weight of the entire global Pokemon community had been crushing down on her shoulders, and yet she'd stood strong. She'd cracked, she'd buckled, but she hadn't knelt. And now...she had somebody else with her to share that load, to fight back against the weight of the world. Whether as friends or more, she wouldn't have to go far to find him ever again, because he wasn't leaving her side now that the world had seen fit to reunite them.

He stepped away after a long moment, watching Ariel begin her ascent up the ramp towards the cliff, his eyes tracking up the side of the summit in mild irritation. He knew he'd never make it up there, of course, which was galling considering how independent he usually liked to be...but there was nothing for it. You had to maintain an accurate assessment of your strengths, weaknesses and capabilities if you wanted to succeed, and that included when you didn't like the conclusions. In fact, it went doubly for when the assessment was unpleasant. He sighed softly, then shook his head and climbed up into Falcone's waiting arms. She hoisted him up - nestled in the crook of her arm, her bent elbow making a little seat for him cradled against her chest - easily considering her strength, and began the plod forwards. It was slightly bumpy considering that she was walking, but all credit to her, she made the ride as smooth as possible by shifting her arm's position with every step. Dante did his best to relax back into the crook of the arm as Falcone stepped up onto the first portion of the ramp, beginning the climb.

"If you tell anybody about this," he said evenly, casting a glance at Cassie, "I'm afraid that our new relationship will end in divorce." He didn't mean it, of course, but he needed some snark to keep his mind off of the indignity of not even lasting an hour in a new environment without getting injured. Though he had to admit, the notion that their relationship could one day be something that could end in divorce...it was perhaps a more tantalising image than he had otherwise expected it to be. But one step at a time! They had only just kind of confessed affection for each other, after all. Perhaps planning the dress and guest list was putting the wagon before the Taurus, eh?
 
It had only really dawned at her a few moments later just what had been said, and what had been agreed upon. Not because she regretted it or wished to take it back, no, not in the slightest. In fact, it was the complete opposite. She wished she had seen it for how special, how significant that request was. It was an invitation to join him on Falcone, yes, but they both knew that it meant much more than that. It was an invitation to join him as his partner. An invitation for her to become his, and for him to become hers. It was the invitation she had dreamed about, waited for, and yearned throughout the better part of her life. And it had finally happened. She didn’t think she would ever get there. There had always been a part of her that knew that her desires were farfetched and it would simply never be, no matter how much she wanted it and hoped for it. He was someone who pursued perfection and settled for nothing less, and she was certainly less. Much, much less.

And yet… He was asking her anyway.

Why was that?

As he settled himself in Falcone’s arm, looking very much like an infant being swaddled by his mother – as funny as the sight was, Cassie was also unable to resist how adorable he looked – she began her own trek up the ramp, and she was lost in thought. Did he only ask her because she was quite literally the only other human there and he simply didn’t want to die alone? That was… Painfully likely. Of course, she would be anyone’s first pick if she were the only other person besides themselves in the entire world, now wouldn’t she? She wondered, if he had been stranded with any other woman, if it had been one of the noble ladies that had been chasing after him just earlier that day, would he have accepted their affections? Arceus, what was wrong with her? Even in her attempts to be excited or happy that a lifelong dream of hers had finally become a reality, she was still somehow trying to tear herself down.

It was that shadow in her that will never allow her to be happy. That black dog that would follow her for the rest of her life. Such that she could not even have this moment, this one reprieve to be elated that she was now Dante’s partner. No, more than that, his girlfriend. Her. His number one fan and the person who cried for months because she missed him after he left for his journey. The one who kept tabs on all his achievements, every single news article and web article. Always keeping him in her mind, and never being able to get him out of it, even as she started seeing other men.

She adored him, and perhaps it was better for her own pride that he didn’t know how much she adored him. In this moment, she wanted to be happy. She wanted to see this predicament as their first quality time together as a couple. She wanted to feel that vigor of entering a new relationship and more, knowing that it was Dante she was in a relationship with. Especially if it were not to last, if the spark that he felt for her disappeared by then end of this disaster and he decided that his life was better the way it had been before; without her in it. It would hurt, of course it would, more than any of her fleeting relationships be it with friends, her own family, or even her own Pokemon. None of it ever stood the test of time and they slipped through her fingers like fine grains of sand no matter how tightly she tried to hold on. They came, and went, such was everything in life, like tides on the shore.

Coming and going.

Slightly different, each time.

And she had come to live with that. It hurt less. It made life all the more bearable. It made her feel more in control knowing that it was time for something to end, even if that meant she was going to be left alone, and deciding to let them go. That was the way her life worked. Before she knew it, she had fallen into that pit again. That space in her brain where her body went on autopilot while the rest of her retreated. She couldn’t shake it off her mind. The fact that it was Dante… The possibility he could leave her just like everyone else in her life… She couldn’t accept that quite so easily. As his voice called out to her once more, she pulled herself back from that heinous state, glancing back at him with a million thoughts in her head.

He was being so playful. He looked so happy. Yet, she couldn’t stop herself from wanting to ask him, to receive that reassurance from him, which was something entirely foreign to her. She never sought reassurance from anyone. She buckled down and dealt with it internally and pretended to be unbothered, put on a façade and went on as if there was nothing wrong, but… Dante made her want to be vulnerable, for once. Besides, what he said about divorce, as much as she knew it was only a joke, it hit too close to her thoughts for her to be able to brush it aside and pretend.

And she would never lie to him.

“Dante, I… Can I something of you…?” Her voice was different, starkly different to the playful, velvety tone it had been before. This was frail and uncertain. Raw and unfiltered. She fidgeted anxiously, pulling at the hem of her torn dress. Her anxiety attracted Ryu’s attention right away, as he approached and stood closely by her side. “It’s entirely selfish of me to ask, but… Could you please promise me that… You’ll never leave me?” She hesitated, “I know you said you wouldn’t but… Could you promise to me? Promise that, we’ll leave this island together, and, we’ll stay together?”
 
Name: Dante E. Young
Location: Beach
Current Team: Jason, Tails, Gary, Falcone, Ariel, Syl

Alas, it would never be as easy as that, would it? For some people - some...couples - confidence and security in their affections was as easy as breathing. It was just a natural part of their being, to hand out trust and love so easily that it felt like second nature. But to people like him and Cassie, it was just so much harder. A lifetime of distrust and paranoia was hard to shake off, and it always felt like the other shoe was going to drop. It always felt like there was something prowling in the shadows, waiting for them to drop their guard before it pounced and tore everything they thought they had away. It was simply how their world operated. They could never seem to have something solely for them without somebody or something trying to tear it away...so of course, when an offer like Dante's came along, when somebody asked Cassie if she wanted something without any ulterior motive...there was always going to be that suspicion. That side-eye that seemed to ask...what was the catch?

Dante did his best not to be offended. If the positions were reversed, he would be looking at this situation with a great deal of skepticism, too! The woman he had idolised for so long, the woman he had wanted for what felt like decades suddenly appearing in his life and declaring out of nowhere that she wanted him too? When had he ever been that lucky? When had he ever had something unequivocably good just fall into his lap like that? Never. And that wasn't even considering all of the betrayals and trauma and hardships that Cassie had gone through that made his own trials and tribulations pale in comparison! That was what he saw there, right? The hesitation to accept that it was real. It wasn't regret at her decision, or a realisation of what she had agreed to. It wasn't her trying to work out how best to correct herself or extricate herself...was it?

He did his best to force that thought down. No. No, Cassie would never lie to him...would she? The Cassie he'd known as a child would only ever be unflinchingly honest with him, would never dream of misleading him only to crush him later. But this Cassie? This Cassie was older, wiser, and - frankly - more vicious. It was part of what attracted him, that strength, that ability to be cruel and savage to protect her and hers, but it also meant that she was far more capable of inflicting harm than that innocent, wide-eyed young girl he'd left behind had been. But she'd never use that sharp tongue or cruel mind on him, would she? She wouldn't. He knew it. He could see that she was gearing up to ask something, to say something difficult...which meant that it was something personal, and he had to listen. She didn't have to do any of this alone any more, and he was going to show her that no matter how bad things got, no matter how alone she felt...he was the one person on the planet who would never, ever hurt her or betray her.

He gestured for Falcone to stop as she spoke, her words soft and frail, fragile, almost as if she was scared that by merely speaking them out loud she might break them...or something else. The raw fear and uncertainty he saw in her face then almost broke his heart, seeing the usually strong, self-assured, powerful woman who had faced down a Murder of Gyarados at his side so...shaky on her feet. Yes...a horde of angry Pokemon, no problem. But confronting her feelings? Voicing her weakness? That was terrifying. They were far more alike than either one of them had initially believed, it seemed. His smile turned gentle, and - with a small grunt at the exertion, a tingle of pain lancing through his body from his gut - took her hands in his. The small wince of pain passed quickly enough, and he met her eyes with a firm, stern gaze of his own. "None of that," he chided her gently. "I promise you that we will both escape this island, and that we will stay together for a very, very long time." He gave her hands a soft, tender squeeze. He could see the doubt, the fear, the self-destructive lack of worth in her eyes, as clearly as if they were mirrors into his own soul in return. "I want you because I want you, Cassie, not because you're the only woman around. There could be a thousand of the most attractive, intelligent, talented women on the planet flocking to this island right at this very moment, and you would still leave all of them in the dust. I want you, Cassie. Nobody else."

He held her gaze for a long moment, his heart hammering in his chest. Would she believe him? Would she see the truth in his words, or would those demons claw her confidence to pieces and leave her a shuddering, paranoid wreck like his own did to him so many times before? His eyes drifted down over her gorgeous face, taking in those sparkling, silver eyes, tracing the shape of her gentle cheeks and curving lips...he knew a way to convince her. Maybe it was too early. Maybe it was too bold. But considering everything else that had happened...he'd rather take the chance and fail, than die without having risked it at all. With a sigh and a shake of his head, he swallowed his fear - crushing it down tight - and leaned forwards to capture her lips with his own in a passionate, tender, loving kiss. Pleasure bloomed in his mind, his heart began to pound, blood screamed in his ears as he held himself there for several long moments, savouring the taste of her lips and the feeling of her breath on his cheek. Stars exploded, supernovas of light dancing through his mind, his chest aching at the force of his heart beating, his hands trembling as the sudden onslaught of blood in his veins pulsed his gut wound to bursting. Universes lived and died in that frozen moment where their lips touched, and he could swear that he could feel the surge of electrical discharge coursing around them, electrifying the air with the sparks that he was certain he had to be sending off like an excited Pikachu. After a long moment, he reluctantly pulled away, his lips lingering on his for a moment before his eyes fluttered open and he recaptured her gaze. He didn't say anything. He didn't have to. His eyes did all the talking for him, and they said, very simply,

Only you.
 
Somehow, they found themselves stopping once more. Cassie hadn’t intended it to be a big issue. Just a question she wanted to find an answer for, but, perhaps she had failed to realize how serious that question was. And more than that, she had failed to curate the unspoken messages she had been conveying through the tone of her voice, the instinctive movements of her body, the sudden shift in atmosphere. Ryu had taken notice of it, but that was natural for him. He had been by her side for a decade now and his entire ability revolved around sensing energy.

Perhaps, she had become a bit complacent in her time away from the spotlight. In the company she kept. None of her friends had ever been very good at reading the room or picking up on how she felt, but then, they weren’t exactly in the same league as Dante was, now were they? After all, Dante was a champion-level trainer. A champion slayer, some might even call him. A one in a million talent. It was silly of her to underestimate him, especially when he had the advantage of being her childhood friend. But then, how well did they really know each other now, after all these years apart? After the world had taken them down different paths and shaped their experiences so.

She liked to think… Their connection, at the very least, was still the same.

He took her hand in his and despite how little she could feel through them now, what with the scar tissue that marred it, she still felt that little spark of electricity jumping through it. That special flicker that made your heart quicken in your chest, filling it with the ever so cruel feeling of hope. She looked at him and was surprised by the sternness of his gaze. It reminded her of the serious look he held as a young boy, but it was so much more now. It had matured like fine wine; the look of a man who was hardened by experience. It sent shivers up her spine and almost completely quieted the voices inside her head. Those intrusive thoughts that whispered to her that this words were sweet nothings and empty promises vanished as he gazed deeply into her very soul, chasing them away. In all her life, she had never been seen that way before. Most others looked at her and they saw the façade she wore, the outer shell she presented to the world and never sought to peel into the person inside. But not Dante. He looked at her and instinctively knew, somehow, that there was more to her than meets the eye.

And he read her like an open book.

But, she supposed that was to be expected of Dante Young, ace trainer. Her best friend. It was almost terrifying how he managed to relay everything she was thinking of so accurately. It made her wonder for a moment if he had somehow developed psychic powers. She certainly didn’t doubt that if he somehow could, he would have. Perhaps he had been spending a bit too much time with psychic trainers? She smiled softly at the thought. He always knew what to say. Considering everything she had gone through, all the men she had dated, she should have been more skeptical. She shouldn’t be so naïve. And yet, with Dante… She could never really help herself. She wanted to believe him. And really, if there was anyone worthy enough for her to be broken hearted over, it was him. “Leave it to you to just casually read my mind, hm?” She jested, but her mind was on… Other things. Her gaze drifted to his handsome, chiseled face. His incredible jawline and perfect, angular features. His inviting lips. There was an inexplicable pull there. Her heart wanted to close that distance and unite with him physically, more than just holding his hand, more than just standing close to his vicinity.

And it seems, their minds were still connected because the next moment she knew, he was kissing her. His lips against hers, and everything else ceased to matter. They were back on the yacht, dancing in that lavish ballroom with the Kricketune orchestra playing in the background, basking in the light of the crystal chandeliers and the serene, starry skies outside as they cut through the mighty waves of the open sea. She could hear that symphony in her ears, the colors bouncing off the crystal chandeliers now dancing behind her eyelids. Emotions washed over her like the powerful waves that had carried them ashore, crashing repeatedly onto her until she was completely drowned in feelings of warmth and comfort, happiness and excitement all in one. And she was completely weightless, floating with no sense of gravity. Carried off into this new discovery, this new revelation, this new future.

She kissed him back and her hands reached up to grasp the sides of his face, touching him and pulling him as close as she possibly could without accidentally hurting him. She wanted this kiss to last a century, for the rest of the time she had left. But alas, all good things had come to an end, but it eased her pain somewhat to know that this was but the first of many, many more.

They locked gazes and she could hear, somehow, his voice telling her, ‘Only you.’ As they looked into each other’s eyes. Perhaps, they really were connected somehow.

She managed to smile, finally, leaning in to press another kiss to his lips – unable to help herself – and echoed back, as best as she could, I believe you.
 
Name: Dante E. Young
Location: Beach
Current Team: Jason, Tails, Gary, Falcone, Ariel, Syl

Like everything else in his life, his confidence in this matter was a facade. A veil, a sham, a performance, whatever you wanted to call it. People expected confidence and aggression and self-assurance from their champions, or they would lose respect. They would lose trust. If somebody showed any weakness, any hesitance, any human uncertainty, then suddenly the myth of invincible power was shattered and that was all most people were interested in. They wanted their champions and heroes and idols to be unshakable pillars of strength, because that was what they wanted to be. If their idols could do it, then surely they could do it too. If their heroes were able to rise from humble origins, overcome the odds and stand unflinching in the face of whatever the world threw at them...then they could too. And if those heroes turned out to be every bit as fragile as the common person? If the Heroes were like Them instead of Them being like the Heroes? If they looked closely and saw the cracks that ran through these supposedly towering monoliths of stone...well, it was easier to write them off as false heroes, as fallen idols and move on to the next pillar holding up their illusion of the sky.

It was much easier to write off human weakness as being individual weakness, after all. It was so much easier to claim it was an anomaly, that it was something to do with the person rather than it being a part of human society. It was so much easier to blame it on that old champion's character flaws, than it was to acknowledge that the crippling weight of the expectations placed upon them by being so high on that pedestal was unsustainable. And of course, everybody on that plinth, everybody placed up high on that stage were just as uncertain deep down as everybody else, wondering why they had been picked to be raised so high. The expectation infected everything, creeping into their minds, making them feel like they had to live up to it, that showing hesitation was weakness. So...they put up as good a facade as they could. Never hesitation, never looking back, always pressing onwards and trying their hardest not to let their own tortured self doubt show, in case the sharks smelled blood and came hunting. It might be being presumptuous, but he knew Cassie felt it too. How could she not?

What he was getting at, simply put, was that...his confidence in that kiss was an act. He was terrified as he leaned in that she would pull away, that she would stop him. That maybe he'd misread the signs, or she'd thought better of it and changed her mind. That for all of his conviction that this was the right thing to do, he was simply mistaken. Doubt rocked him as he leaned in, as he reached for her, half expecting to feel empty air or that awkward hand on his chest, pausing him mid-lean, and then they'd have to get off of the island with this awkward memory clinging on in their minds. Because that kind of memory would never leave, would it? They would both remember that for as long as they lived, often at inconvenient times, and he would have to retire to some isolated mountain peak so he never had to force himself to look her in the eyes ever again. That was the curse of his fragility, and the thing he always tried to cover up; his own self doubt. He'd never been good at reading social situations, and even with Cassie, even with somebody he knew like the back of his hand...he didn't think that uncertainty would ever really disappear.

But thankfully, on this occasion, his demons proved unable to stop him, and the touch of her lips silenced them for a few blessed minutes. And for those few moments, everything was silent and loud at the same time, as he gathered her into his arms and felt the shock of electricity, the tingle of warmth, the ache in his chest pulling him closer in the most deliciously urgent way. And when their eyes met again, he saw his own affections, his own desires reflected back at him. The doubt would always be there, but for the moment, the feeling of her love and the sight of those gorgeous silver pools of moonlight shimmering with such happiness and joy and excitement made it all...simply not matter. He accepted her follow up kiss happily, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her to his chest, ignoring the twinge of pain that sent through his gut. Before had been a gentle, exploratory kiss, a probing request for permission, a sign of affection and a question as to whether it was accepted and returned. But now...now it was simply the zealous passion of love requited, long repressed and finally set free.

The contact stole his breath away, of course, sucking the air from his lungs and the heat from his body, leeching it into her as she in turn gave him her own. It was an odd sensation, feeling his heart beat wildly, chaotically, and yet at the same time to some kind of joint rhythm. For him, all sensations blacked out besides her. There was only her taste, her touch, the sound of her breathing, the feel of her body beneath his fingers...fingers that roamed over back, through hair, cradling her against him as if worried that some force was going to come and rip her away. She echoed her acceptance and reassurance into him, and he reflected it back at her, saying without words that this was not a one time thing. This was real, this was deep, and this was the only thing he'd ever wanted. Memories flashed, of them as children, of them in the ballroom on the ship, of that first reconnection in the pool despite not yet knowing who the other was. That anxious moment of going to dinner with a woman who inexplicably caught his attention the moment she smiled at him, and then discovering with a rapturous lurch that it was Cassie!

And now...here they were, forging a new path together. They eventually parted once more to catch their breath, and Dante could barely think straight after the dizzying pleasure of feeling her affections pulsing through his body. He blinked, stars dancing before his vision, and let out a small, satisfied half-sigh, half-chuckle. "We should have done that a decade ago," he admitted softly, with a small wry smile. "It would have saved us rather a lot of time, wouldn't you say?" He lifted an eyebrow at her, but it was clear that what he was really saying was, "I don't intend to waste any more time. You're mine, I'm yours, and that's how it will always stay. Agreed?" Somehow, he already knew what her answer would be...and for once, he didn't hear a single voice of doubt in the back of his mind. He'd always known that she was one of a kind, and now he had proof. It seemed that for now...Cassie had chased them all away.
 
Cassie had experienced many kisses in her life. Kisses from people whose faces were long forgotten. Those kisses had been sweet and warm. They were all special in their own way. But this kiss... This was a different beast entirely. It was like tasting the forbidden fruit. Something that, once you got a taste of, you could never go without ever again. That was Dante. There was something about him that intoxicated her completely. His scent, his warmth, the way he held her so desperately against him with his large, strong hands. His face fits so perfectly against her's. His sweet, warm lips were more addicting than any substance she had been exposed to. Perhaps, it was the familiarity. Perhaps, it was the sentiment of a lifelong desire, finally achieved. Or perhaps, this was finally it. She had finally found the one. Arceus... Please let it be so. And somehow... She knew that he was telling her the same thing, just from their kiss alone.

She drew the kiss out for as long as she could, wanting to stay away from their harsh reality for just a moment longer. But, if there was one thing she had learned, it was that you couldn't run forever. No matter how hard you try. But the funny thing was... She didn't really want to run anymore. She had something that she wanted to stay for. She had stayed at that yacht and she would stay on this island now. Because he was there, and the only way she would be leaving him was if Darkrai himself came to reap her soul. She had been broken time and time again. Emotionally, mentally, and physically, but somehow, she still had hope inside her. One that he nursed back to life with his smile. When they parted, and she stared deeply into his eyes, it was as if she was adrift among the ocean waves once again. And she was pulled in by his tides, drowned by his affections. What a wonderful demise that was. And in a way, it felt as though it truly was the demise of her past: the string of lovers she had left behind and her man-seeking ways.

It was him. He was everything she could have possibly wanted. Perhaps, everything she could have possibly needed too.

She smiled softly at his remark, but what really intrigued her was what he hadn't said. A proclamation of belonging. That they belonged to each other and no one else, and they always will. It was such a sudden proclamation for such a big commitment and yet... One that felt entirely overdue. Arceus, please let it be true. She wanted him in her life again, and more than that, she wanted him all to herself. Even after they get off this island, she wanted their days to stay the same as their immediate future there: the two of them, together with no one else but their Pokemon. Relationships were fragile. They were prone to change and weakened over time, but for her, this was her last resort. It was him, or nothing, and she would give her all for this. For him.

And so naturally, she nodded in response without saying another word. Whether she had answered his verbal or non-verbal question was up to his interpretation, but at the same time, none of it mattered anyway. Her answer was the same for both questions: yes.

She took his hand within her own and continued to hold it as they made their way up the slope, and further towards the campsite. The journey was thankfully forgiving beyond that, and it flew by in almost a blink of an eye because she was still too enamoured by the events that had just taken place. She felt weightless, still. Like she was walking on air. With her proprioception and mental imagery, they managed to find their way to the hill she had picked out. It was elevated ground with a clearing where a single, large tree grew. Like the rest of the forest, its bark was dark as the night with deep, evergreen leaves. It stood above the canopy and if they were in better condition, she would have suggested making camp up among its branches. But for now, they would have to remain grounded.

There was a rather large opening of a den among the roots of the tree, which Cassie commanded Ryu to investigate. Luckily, with his aura sense, he determined that it was empty and further investigation quickly revealed that it had been empty for months at least. They could thank Jirachi for that stroke of luck. It wasn't quite large enough to be able to fit Falcone inside, but past the tight opening, the den inside was rather spacious, and Cassie wasted no time mobilizing Dante inside with help from Nine and Peridot's levitation powers. She made a makeshift bed out of the tarps from Ariel's saddle on the flattest surface she could manage. Moving away pebbles and rocks, she placed him down on the softest bit of ground there was, and for a moment, she could sit back and breathe.

She held his hand still, giving him reassuring squeezes each time he winced in pain during his mobilization. But there was no time to rest. There was still much to be done, and the first step was to stabilize Dante, and bring herself back to full health. After all, it was better to have at least one person fully functional to support the other than two somewhat functional people. And so, she nodded to Ryu as he came up behind her with his paw outstretched, knowing that he was about to offer the last of his heals to her. He placed his paw on her shoulder and closed his eyes as the black appendages that hung from his head rose and bristled. The Heal Pulse spread through her and resumed its work on her near-severed arm. She breathed through the ache of skin, muscle, and ligament knitting itself back together. Those new cells growing and maturing at rapid rates made her feel like her shoulder had caught fire. Her good hand spasmed against Dante's as she let out a shudder and a shaky breath at the end of it.

She sat there for a moment, almost in a stupor against the dirt walls, and then numbly - for a moment, her exhaustion showing through her eyes - turned her head to look at Dante. "Does your Sylveon know any healing moves?" She asked hoarsely, from stifling her own cries of pain. Reluctantly, she slipped her hand out of his to undo the bandaging she had improvised for her arm. She unwrapped it slowly, making sure no skin or flesh was sticking, to reveal a new network of red, fresh scars dancing across her skin like a lightning strike. It crept up her arm and congregated at the shoulder joint where her arm attached to her torso, and continued further up to the base of her neck. She sighed, not surprised but... Defeated. But she chose not to focus on how it looked. Instead, she focused on her hand, making sure she could move all her fingers, rotate her wrist, bend her elbow and then carefully, slowly, lifting and rotating her arm at the joint. Pokemon healing abilities were incredibly miraculous. She felt no pain, but, her brain was still telling her that the site was tender, so she was still hesitant to move it.

She balled her hands into a fist, then opened them. She did that over and over again to test her grip strength. "That was the last of Ryu's Heal Pulse. I could rely on Peridot, but I've only had her for a short time. She will need some help if we want to stabilize your wound." Her face was serious, completely devoid of any fun and games. She was thinking, planning ahead. For now, her priority was him.
 
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