[attr="class","GALACTIC3"]

SHADOW

family business. it's what's expected of her. it's a childhood of paranoia. she remembers that her palms were never clean. dust, ash, sometimes smeared crimson that later turned brown before she had a chance to wash it off. 'this is imporant,' dad would say. don't let them see, don't let them hear. follow the older people. help them move the boxes of snarling pokemon. ignore the screams, the howls, their jaws when the bloodlust became too much. 'careful, sweetheart. don't want to lose a finger.' she receives a pokemon, offspring of her father's. he says he'll protect her. should anything ever happen, he'll protect her. use him to fight. doesn't matter if it's pokemon or person. she will stand her ground and she will fall with the rest of them. [break][break]it's a rough town. when she's on her own, battles break out in the streets. she falls back, falls down, gets knocked once or twice in the face for looking at someone the wrong way. it's hard, she thinks. sometimes it's hard to breathe. but she pushes herself back up, embers sparking from her canines. ruthless, heartless, selfish is what she's called, but that's just because she's the big fish now. the bruises on her cheeks fade; no one can touch her porcelain skin again.[break][break]
two months after receiving her license, she's instructed to move a machine. important work, perfect for the innocent little girl with words sharp as daggers, slathered in honey. lashes miles long make suspicious officers fall head over heels; she leaves them waving dumbly in the rearview. pit stop in phenac. she sees someone with a machine on their arm. a woman cries on the news. 'they stole my pokemon.' she's not doing it. she's not the one doing it. this mantra becomes her radio and she wonders just how big the desert really is.[break][break]

BLOOD

she learns that her fists are weapons, too. tooth and nail, fire and darkness at her side. she's taken, locked up, held captive. they'll break her. they tell her to talk and she spits acid. 'don't you understand what you're doing? don't you understand how much you're hurting them?' and she wants to say it's not me. it's them, but the difference becomes grayscale to her eyes. for the first time, she allows the pain to hit its mark. fingernails tipped in copper, a gaping hole in her chest. she's rescued not a day later, but the damage is done. there is no welcome upon her return. it's, 'did you talk?' no, she says. no, she hadn't, but somehow they'd found out anyway. they come. with sirens wailing, warrants for arrest. her father snaps, calls her to attention. 'you will stand and you will fight.'[break][break]

BOLT

you did the wrong thing, silly girl. a boat takes her far, far away. over a bowl of cold soup, she watches faces flash by on a grainy television screen. the newscaster praises the dismantling of the shadow pokemon project. 'we believe all those with connection to the project have fallen into police custody.' she rubs the angry red mark on her hand. when they dock in canalave, her innkeeper says she ought to head to eterna. they can do something for that there. he's sorry it happened. weary bones rest on a moth-eaten mattress. her houndour rests at her feet. neither of them sleep.[break][break]
people look at her sideways. something's a little wrong. purple bruises under the eyes, an angry red hand that won't stop aching. she nicks a single black satin glove from the front of a boutique. when she feels herself start to settle, the restlessness return. keep running, she tells herself. forward, forward, too scared to look over her shoulder. taverns house storytellers. they and the slow buzz of whiskey lull her nerves for a few hours. greediness has her lapping up strangers' time. she's always been good with words. she asks them for stories and when they demand something in return, she pays penance with eyes closed. running is living and living is getting by, but only until she's threadbare and worn. [break][break]
late at night when she's tossing and turning in motel sheets, she murmurs to her houndour, 'i don't know what to do anymore.'[break][break]

FUNCTION

somehow she ends up in a tournament. needs the money, needs the rush, something or other. kids and elderly, beginners and ace trainers, all come and all fall. gray eyes watch from the sidelines. afterwards, there are spoken words. 'i know who you are,' he says. he's been watching her, waiting, wanting to offer something he knows she wants. she grits her teeth, tries not to spit out the word, what.[break][break]
he purses his lips, fingertips dimpling her cheeks. 'salvation,' he breathes. they have a mission, a higher purpose. 'wouldn't it be better if you didn't have to feel?' meet him here. take this pokemon for safekeeping. it's a promise, he says. in a week's time she begins her work.