Half a year already. Six months since she had vanished.
Her athletes had become the Takers, frustration channeled into sweeping tournaments, the profits thrown directly into the search for their missing coach. Their missing friend. The Banded Teeth gave them direction in their lives, distraction from their mourning, but still they searched. The Takers turned Ceriah inside out- for nothing.
And then, there was Sanctuare.
The Pokémon Rights Act. The opening of borders. And recently, the tentative acceptance of Pokémon Coaches. A place beginning to feel like Ceriah…
And a lead.
--
Pash Harbor was unlike anything either of them had seen before. Cerian urban centers were primarily carved from the earth to use the sheltering ground above and the geothermal energy from below. Here, the massive utilitarian docks were clearly built to withstand the harsh coastal environment. Further into the city, towers of metal and glass could be seen within the urban sprawl, jutting higher than the incredible spectrum of rooftops. The open air made everything seem so vast- Langley wondered if all cities she had been to were actually this size, the true area concealed by the environment around it.
She turned to Muay to make such a comment but found him draped over the guardrail, clearly having just been sick. Again.
"Are you serious? We're not even moving anymore."
"Seafood doesn't agree with me," the limp Infernape whined. "Or seafaring. Or the smell of the sea. Or the water in the sea. I don't like the sea, okay?"
Langley rolled her eyes as she moved to disembark. "I'm sure our contact will be so impressed."
"Our contact is here to help us, not judge us." Muay grumbled.
"Doesn't mean they're not gonna judge."
Passing through immigration was much slower than it had been in Ceriah, despite the latter's tight security. It took nearly two hours until they were released onto the Pashian streets.
Muay checked his datapad. "Rendezvous point is a back-alley bar called The Skiff," he murmured as they walked. "Four city blocks west of here, then off the street."
"When did you learn the word 'rendezvous'? I'm kind of impressed."
"Shut up. Probably Visi. What'd you think about the immigration officers?"
"You sure you didn't look it up to seem smart?"
"No."
"No, you're not sure you didn't look it up?"
"Shut up, Langley."
The Pawniard laughed. "Immigration was just like Baryon said. All humans went through damn quick."
"Should probably take the advice about being inconspicuous to heart then, too."
"Yeah, your flames are totally easy to hide."
"I'll put on a hat," Muay responded dryly. "Turn right."
The street could barely count as such, narrow and winding as it was. Buildings shoved close together made for a continuous wall of shadowed doorways. They pressed in, eyes adjusting to the decreasing light level. Around the first sharp curve, a battered sign flickered. The silhouette of a boat surrounded the name of the bar.
The Skiff's door creaked as Muay pushed it open. The bouncer, a Machamp, gave them a slow glance. "Cerians?"
"Yeah?"
"Gotta learn to keep your head down if you're staying in Sanctuare. People gonna think you're 'getting ideas above your station'."
"Thanks for the note."
Langley stepped forward. "We're here to meet with someone called Riot."
The bouncer jerked his head. "Fourth booth."
It seemed empty as they approached, but the being sitting there shifted slightly and became, somehow, completely visible. Muay and Langley slipped into the seat opposite.
"Your name is Riot?"
"I am known as Riot."
"Baryon says you can to help us find Eira."
"I am well-versed in locating targets."
"You have a lead already?"
"Yes."
The conversation lulled. Though they had anticipated the Greninja's curt and noncommittal style of speech, it was still difficult for Langley to adjust to. If she was struggling, then Muay was having much worse a time. Good thing he wasn't the one talking.
"How will this partnership work?"
"What has Baryon told you?"
"You are a freelancer with ties to the Banded Teeth, who have an open request for information on Capoeirah's whereabouts. You responded that there is a data trail that brings her officially to Sanctuare five months ago. You, being familiar with Sanctuare, are to assist us with pursuing this trail and aid us to whatever end you see fit. Due compensation will be paid out when either party chooses to terminate the agreement."
Riot nodded, once. "That is as I understand it as well."
"Our cover here is as Coach and Athlete. Partially we find this a good reason to be in Sanctuare, and partially we believe that Eira will be paying attention to the sporting circuits. If you are to be with us, it may be beneficial for all if you choose to act as an athlete."
"I will consider it."
"Thank you. Here are our secure datapad codes. Contact us when you feel we are ready to begin."
Riot inclined his head. "Less than three days."
"We await your transmission."
Riot's calculating eyes followed them out of The Skiff for certain and seemed to follow them until they left the twisted street as well. Langley let out a breath she hadn't known she was holding as the tension quite obviously dropped from Muay's lanky frame.
"Three days!" he snorted. "He has the information and definitely has a plan already. Why make us wait?"
"Let him be in charge for a while. This guy's dangerous. 'Well-versed in locating targets'? That's assassin talk. Besides, vomit rocket, you should rest up anyway."
"You're never gonna let that go, are you?"
"Eh. Give it a month, I might get bored. Where's our hotel?"
"About two miles in. We should get moving; I don't think we want to be on the streets at night."
Ceriah had its share of gangs and common criminals, that was for sure. But never had Langley been afraid to walk on city streets during the night cycle, and never had the common human made her feel uneasy. Even now, she felt the glances, heard the murmurs. The thought of what it could become during the cover of darkness chilled her.
+ Recruited Riot - Froakie lv 5
+ Recruited Langley - Pawniard lv 5
+ Trained Langley for +6