#WE NEVER THOUGHT WE'D GET A REMAKE YET HERE WE ARE

[scatterpatter]

How i predict next week will go

[sokumotanaka]

So I didn't hyjack this poor person's post over [here.]

I thought making my own post would be the most logical conclusion. So it takes alot in my opinion to bury your head in the ground and pretend like you smart when you're so overly stupid.

Here's a discussion I had with a person where alot of alarming and stupid things were said on his part. @/crimsonxe

Well go through small sections, that's a lie, you know I'm long winded.

Here's a section where he states that writing about killing, maiming, and calling minorities bad isn't nearly as bad. I mentioned Miles calling Tifa a prostitute as well and I don't think he's getting it.

Manner of dress:

The problem isn't getting over it or not, the issue with calling remake Tifa a prosisitue is that she dresses more modest than the rwby cast, he has children with short skirts, no pants under and boob windows in frozen tundra. If he thinks THIS is provocative,

then him okaying THESE

designs on children is something he's mentally aware of! also weiss spends most of her time in that outfit in a frozen wasteland and then COMPLAINS about being cold!

Get over it? More like Have enough common sense not to post stuff like that. A wise man once said "just because you think of a tweet doesn't mean you have to hit send." (Also he says it's not fanservicey, need I remind everyone they sell a ruby body pillow, Yang always had her tits out and then as time goes on they start losing more and more clothing. Not fanservice my ass!)

Grown man argument for sexualizing teen girls.

"They don't go overboard." Here's a picture of a woman wearing chainmail on her bare skin in the desert, there's a difference between puritanical and horny silly designs after them saying shit like "we won't do the stupid stuff anime does" and then having the whole cast of female characters with their tits and ass out.

Also not to stun your pee brain, but writing racism as "If we want respect and equality then we have to forgive our bigot overlords and defend them with not even a thank you." Is stupid, that be like me telling you that if you want minorities forgiveness, go fight cops, or me going to england and saying that. Blake tells unrelated faunus to fight armed dudes and the writers are stupid. And the overall issue is HBomberguy was right! In his review he stated that he was afraid that a certain group of people would look at how the faunus act and go "yeah that's how They are" uncharitable takes exist.

And he was right a bunch of RWBY stans who were racist before vanishing literally came around going "boy did miles and kerry get you guys pegged, you're all exactly like this!" During the 98% most peaceful protesting age, well unless your a cop who wants to shoot out someone's eyes.

The LGBT pair (s)?

Yeah like the cardboard cutout guys miles pouted about when he didn't get credit for putting out there after people in the LGBT community asked when were the LGBT characters gonna appear.

The first Gay rep in the show was two unrelated characters we'd never see again after saying "characters" just don't promise things then lie forehead!

Or the second Rep LGBT character Illia! A woman who took her crush and was gonna- *Looks at paper* Send her to her abuser while also blaming her for dating someone and not knowing her romantic feelings.

"I guess you were too busy looking at Adam to notice me."

Yeah great first cardboard then a woman willing to kill off her her crushes family and blames her crush for not knowing she had a crush on her!

Oh how about bumblbee? With Yang literally saying she viewed Blake as an object and wanted her around for her solely? You know fuck what Blake wants! Blaming Blake for running in fear when WF ruin a nation and Adam states he'll kill everyone she loves and he knows exactly where her parents are? Perish the thought, that sounds like something a scared child would exactly do! But Yang goes "No despite us not officially dating yet I'm owed her time and presence.

Yang's shitty, and it takes how long for them to get together? They don't even wait until adam cold before Yang claims her, after abusing her mentally when Blake tells her Adam likes to make you feel small and she brushes her off and is like "stop talking to me." Then they kiss what? THIS year? 2023? In volume 3 sun's winking at her and she's blushing and smiling and calling him a dork and they're hanging out, and I'm sitting here going "Do some of that for yang? All they did was share a dance, have her flirt with her or wink, something." And what she compliments her hair once? Granted I stopped after 7/8 so I bet the best LGBT rep happ- This just in, I'm getting word from my friends in the LGBT community who watched rwby saying that it's dogshit.

Having tons of LBGT characters doesn't matter if you write them like trash I guess, btw the first kiss happened in volume 9 in 2023 and rwby started in 015 and again sun flirts, winks etc and they show alot of chemistry with each other.

Yang gets mad, demands blake be there when EVERYONE else is going back home too! Trauma dumps on her after using a laser pointer on her when Blake admits that she's tired of dealing with racism.

Like instead of talking to her, Yang treats her like an animal an laughs it off then trauma dumps about her mom on her while blake is already highly stressed. Doesn't even solve the problem btw. All the LGBT characters thus far (besides Jaune's sister and her girlfriend, they can stay, sadly they're trapped in a shitty show) are horribly written for no reason.

A second writer should look at these before they hit the screen.

Racism

He talks about a south park reference which I ignored cause it's so random?

racist dog whistling.

"Mika burton spun things a certain way." Nah there's tweets w of people admitting they fucked up and the achievement hunters go online , they bring her on a podcast and pretend to cry so people can feel bad for them. And good for her she doesn't forgive them. So spinning around? How about a source? Source can't be that you made it the fuck up cause that's not a source it's a sentence wasting everyone's time.

Also "Mile's isn't white." Aw man what am I gonna tell mile's white parent? Sorry some dude on the internet said your son can't be half white, sorry me I can't be half black, or Hawaiian, Sorry Miles because you look more black your Hispanic traits don't matter for the sake of the argument. What kinda of Juvenile , stupid statement IS this? He can't be white because you say so? But he calls himself white in many tweets and literally in the statement of writing racism in RWBY.

Also nice try, moving the goalpost means you can't lose. "I'm not defending him, now watch as I waste time defending him instead of finding a source against Mika's claims cause I'm bullshitting." I mean Mika doesn't even have a reason to lie, RT employees all admitted they heard and did nothing, Torian a black animator and editor also stated he had race issues with RT and Pat boivan from Castle super beast and pat stares at made a black joke that Miles and select few members laughed at in terms of them having no black or brown people working there. And they ignore woolie when it comes to sponsored stuff, he literally says this on multiple episodes of his show, and THAT's Worrying!

Point is if Miles himself is racist, weather he's white, Hispanic, black etc he still displayed racist behavior multiple times too many. He had a chance to say something to his employees, he didn't bother, he got nervous and waked off. He had the chance when he put BLM after the lashings he got and do something with that, change the company for the better etc, but he didn't he put it there as a band-aid and took it off when he thought people weren't looking.

I keep beating this dead horse because people like you don't seem to do research at all! Because in the face of it it's easier to lie, play dumb (pffft 'play') and make excuses for them instead of holding them accountable.

I didn't want to see RT burn down for a while, but they keep pulling a blizzard, and all these, tweets, articles, statements that miles or the others say or do that's stupid, harmful, racist, shitty keep popping up! At this point it be better as a lesson not to be shitty humans for RT to quietly burn, no special treatment, I'm holding them to the same standard I do for David cage, for activation Blizzard and many other triple A companies. If you don't wanna go down in flames, maybe don't do reprehensible things that keep burning bridges for you. Simple, don't be stupid forhead!

The real mornic stuff was listening to you try and fail at mental gymnastics and not provide a single source for anything you claimed I should "be in awe" of or switching the goal post. RT.s failing and they stacked the deck against themselves, THAT's why people hate them, statements like they saying that when yang drives down the crossroads to Mistral and people guessing she's going to Ruby only for them to like and say "if you heard the bike go one way." These critics, video's, and articles don't exist for no reason.

Pathetic, utterly pathetic, you boasted a big game , puffed out your chest and then walked straight into a cold clock and got your ass handed to you for several rounds. For someone who boasted about "getting in the ring" No flatter yourself, you weren't even competiton.

[dangoulains-devotion]

my humble onions on That One Bit Of Dialogue™ (you know the part) from that spooky Nibel sidequest

Prefacing this by saying I'm very chill with whatever they decide to end up doing with Vincent as long as it's interesting and not just "surprise twist for the sake of surprise twist" if u get what I mean. And seeing other theories is fun! So I thought I might share my own

But my personal first impression when he said he'd had plenty of chances to pull the trigger but couldn't doesn't necessarily mean he's talking about literally shooting sephiroth. I parsed it more as a "I knew very well that something was likely to go awry with Sephiroth even if the Jenova detail wasn't known to me, I knew that Lucrecia had chosen to experiment on her unborn child, I knew that with Hojo involved it was going to be a disaster, I knew I knew I knew. But I still couldn't bring myself to stop any of it from happening because I couldn't bear to hurt her."

From what I remember from that sit-down at the table flashback scene in Dirge, he was aware that Something was going to happen to this child but he couldn't have known what. If we're going to follow the line of pulling the trigger literally, I felt like it was more aimed at Hojo in that he regrets he didn't shoot first... My man's could've negated like All of FF7 if he'd beaten Hojo to the punch lmfaoghskhg

Vincent very much does not and has never come across as someone to kill a child or consider doing so, sure he was a turk but I feel like the whole thing with Reno after the plate drop was supposed to drive home that as much as they know certain abhorrent things are part of their job, it doesn't mean that they necessarily want to or feel good about it.

I am certainly interested still in what's gone on in the remakes with his situation of what we previously knew as him sleeping for his sins - the room itself didn't seem like it'd been untouched for 30 years and he had that speaker that let him hear yuffie and barret bantering in the elevator... If he had it as a way of alerting him to intruders, and that it would wake him up, then perhaps there was a literal "I failed to shoot" moment when the Nibelheim Incident was about to happen. He'd have known there was people down there when Sephiroth holed himself up if that was the case, maybe he considered it at that point but hesitated for several reasons

But then again! They kept Crisis Core 1:1, and when Zack finds the coffin, unless Vincent was feigning it to be anti-social, he seemed pretty out cold. So maybe he only started to actively move around/have that speaker *after* the Nibelheim Incident because it tore at him to know that something so tragic happened so close and yet he did nothing because he was asleep... So it was a choice made to be more vigilant? Who knows!

This is kinda rambly and somewhat out of order which I apologise for. It's not even my full thoughts about this damn character, we'd be here all day if I unravelled it all in detail! But I do think that, provided Dirge doesn't get retconned completely, it's likely he considers his gravest sin regarding Sephiroth was that he didn't intervene to divert the poor child's fate before it was even born. And when I say intervene I mean stop the experiment from proceeding rather than tucking his tail and letting the woman he cared for make One Real Fucked Up Choice (that's a part of Lucrecia I appreciated and kind of really hope they don't lighten or retcon about her - the way her ambition and drive was her greatest strength but also her worst traits in that it meant her sense of ethics and the like was tossed to the wayside in favour of Progress™ and Science™.)

Who knows honestly! I'm just glad we got to see him and that he's not optional anymore <3 and that he's a dork besides! I'm also very interested in his left eye... There's some parts where his left eye is much more open than his right when he's wincing or when he back flipped out of the coffin... We've seen he can close them both properly but that small detail felt intentional so I guess we'll seeeeee

I wrote this more as a tossing my 2 cents into the pool, and to organise some of my thoughts I suppose... Cid and Vincent were the two parts I was most excited for with Rebirth and after having completed it as well as side quests and the QB storyline I have much 2 think about...

If you read all the way to here then I appreciate u sticking with my rambling... I am mentally unwell about that tragic old man 🫡

[bumblebeem]

Why I Think Everyone Should Care More About ThunderBee

An essay, because I can't stop thinking about this.

Let me tell you the whiplash I suffered when IDW dropped their delicious slowburn of Thundercracker's budding friendship with Bumblebee only to hand his ghost off to Starscream. Then to add insult to injury, literally everybody and their mother started shipping that instead.

HellO?

I mean I'm not here to bash StarBee by any means, but the way Bumblebee and Thundercracker become acquainted is so much more romantic. Theirs is a friendship based on mutually beneficial exchanges and interests the whole way through - their arc was so nicely thought out and so, so wholesome - they even featured in each other’s Spotlight issues! And we got this adorable cutscene moment in Transformers Devastation:

I for sure thought we'd see more of them together because they have a great dynamic.

But after Bumblebee died, IDW literally abandoned ship. What started out as a rarepair to begin with was consigned to the fate of -1 fanart and even less fan fiction. Devastating.

So here's a little run down of everything Bumblebee and Thundercracker got up to; an ode to ThunderBee 💛💙

As far as this canon goes, chronologically, I believe their first significant interaction is in Spotlight: Thundercracker, where seeing Bumblebee willing to die for the sake of someone else gives Thundercracker the courage to stick to his own convictions.

He was already doubting his allegiance but it’s the events of his Spotlight issue that make him realise what he wants to stand for. In this issue he says to Bumblebee, “You know, if all Autobots were like you... Well, never mind. That just isn’t the case,” suggesting that he would switch factions if the Autobots shared more of Bee's spirit; too bad (as far as Thundercracker and later even Megatron is concerned) that Bumblebee is one of a kind, huh?

Nightbeat jokes that Spotlight: Thundercracker might be another “Bumblebee makes a friend story” in reference to the alien lifeforms they’ve all just saved, but it’s also a nod to his developing relationship with Thundercracker, who we remember saved Bumblebee’s life on Earth in issue #6 of The Transformers (2009):

A little later in the same arc, Bumblebee returns the favour, saving Thundercracker from his self-imposed isolation in issue #11 by reminding him of who he is deep down - a loyal and honourable warrior. He’s able to relate to Thundercracker’s interest in human culture as this is an interest of his too, and that’s what butters the Seeker up - he might not consider Bumblebee a friend yet, but how can he deny someone who just gets him, you know?

And sorry but Guido Guidi had to know what he was doing when he drew these two this handsome, like. C’mon.

Not only does Bumblebee acknowledge Thundercracker's battle prowess (which before he settles down with Buster, is a big part of Thundercracker's identity), Thundercracker openly compliments Bumblebee on his own expertise; they're both very good at what they do (or used to do) and happy to compliment each other on those skills - uh, Power Couple, anyone?

Unfortunately, this venture is what sets them on diverging paths. Thundercracker is gravely injured in the aftermath of the favour he does for Bumblebee, and this pushes him to leave his days of being a warrior behind. He is a dog that wants to stay on the porch after all. Following the example Bumblebee set for him long before Earth, he has given everything he can give to this war. He's tried to impede further casualties, and all it has earned him is more betrayal, more heartbreak.

Bumblebee's own brush with death doesn't deter him, however. It only makes him more determined to prove himself.

By the time he and Thundercracker regroup in his own Spotlight issue, we see they can no longer relate to each other. Learning from his experience, Thundercracker wants remake himself, whereas Bumblebee is only more consumed by his sense of duty towards Earth and the Autobots that elected him as leader.

Note this issue and issue #6 of The Transformers (2009) marks an important feature of Thundercracker's and Bumblebee's acquaintanceship - they both try to convince the other that their allegiance doesn't suit them, and yet neither of them would ever defect to the other side. Star-crossed lovers. This ship literally writes itself.

So Thundercracker tries to counsel Bumblebee as Bumblebee once counselled him, demonstrating another fascinating aspect of their relationship: they seem to know each other on an intrinsic level and want the best for each other.

Long before Bumblebee flounders and fails as a leader on Cybertron, Thundercracker can see that's not who or what he is, and he tells him as much. Bumblebee might want to be a leader, he might feel he has to fill that role, but the other Autobots are never going to accept him in it. He'll never be good enough for them.

Thundercracker is speaking here from his own experiences - the Decepticons wanted a ruthless warrior, but when he couldn't meet their expectations they abandoned him. Thundercracker is warning Bumblebee that the Autobots are treating him in the same way but naturally, Bumblebee can’t see that. He’s never been one to run from a challenge anyway.

Younger, and more idealistic, Bumblebee is willing to keep sacrificing himself and for all Thundercracker might like this little yellow Autobot, he is on a new path of self-discovery - he's putting himself first for a change. He has to let Bumblebee and all he stands for go if he has any chance of finding his own happiness.

In retrospect, had Bumblebee taken Thundercracker's advice, he could have been happier, too. The tragedy of it all.

Instead, Bumblebee follows his misplaced sense of duty to its depressing conclusion... and this is where their relationship development ends.

In issue #28 of Robots in Disguise, Thundercracker gives us his last word on how he feels about Bumblebee:

He reaffirms the affection he has for him - if Bumblebee had been the one to land on his doorstep, turning him away wouldn't have been so easy. Sensing some familiarity between the two (which he doesn't quite understand, given he was MIA for most of it), Optimus informs Thundercracker of Bumblebee's passing. He tries to comfort Thundercracker with his belief that Bumblebee died for the greater good, but all Thundercracker gets from that is an upsetting confirmation: during their last ever conversation, he was right after all.

Bumblebee should have found his own happiness and not thrown his life away for anyone else’s sake.

There is so much potential for them and it was rough getting through Bumblebee’s ghost era and eventual reincarnation only for there to be no reunion. Not even so much as a quip in passing as the 05 continuity wrapped up IIRC...

Overall, I think probably the reason why people don’t talk about ThunderBee more is because the majority of their development happens before or outside of the RID/MTMTE split, and that’s the jumping on point for most newer fans of the comic books. There’s far more material of Bee with Starscream in Robots in Disguise and the Windblade stories that follow so I can see why that pairing caught on.

ThunderBee deserves more appreciation though - the material is there, I promise!

[bluerosesburnblue]

Not sure if you've mentioned your thoughts but what do you think of the new pokemon revealed for Legends: Arceus? I'm really excited for the game now because I really enjoy the trailers they've put forth for it!

Oh my god I love the new Pokemon so much. One of my biggest hopes for a Sinnoh remake was that they add in Sinnoh forms of Pokemon that came from generations released after Diamond and Pearl, but unfortunately it seems like they're sticking really strongly to what was established in DPPt with Brilliant Diamond and Shining Pearl. So when they first started revealing all of the new Hisuian forms for Legends: Arceus it was such a relief

I think the best part is that they're giving the new forms to Pokemon that I'd never expect, too. I mean, who would have thought we'd get an evolution for Stantler? That forgotten Normal type from Gen 2. Now here comes Wydeer to give it that Psychic typing its lore always said it deserves and it looks much more majestic and fitting for its snowy environment. Or Basculin, which was only really known for having two forms exclusive to different versions of the games it appears in, getting an evolution that references the real-world behavioral habits of salmon and drawing visual motifs from traditional Japanese art of spirits

The recent reveal of Hisuian Zorua and Zoroark was just incredible, though. I rambled about it in my tags on another post, but the way that they framed the first trailer as something that they dug up in-universe in Sinnoh's Canalave Library was just so brilliant because these types of documentation do exist! Framing it as though this real video that you're interacting with came from their universe helps to make the games feel more real and lived-in, too. I just... I adore when they do stuff like this

It gets people guessing! It's fun! I saw a lot of people guess Hisuian Zorua beforehand, but I didn't see anyone guess its typing right. And then we get the payoff a few days later after the suspense has been drawn up

"Professor Oak" comes in with the video restoration, and it was so much fun! I find that the most interesting thing they do with Pokemon's marketing is when they do things like this. They tried it a while ago when Sword and Shield were coming out and they did that 24 hour livestream of the Glimwood Tangle and revealed Galarian Ponyta in it. Unfortunately, that one (even though I love the idea of it) ended up backfiring because very little ended up happening throughout those 24 hours, so people just got bored. This whole Hisuian Zorua/Zoroark reveal feels like they took that concept and really refined it into something amazing

In a way, I'm also reminded of the Meltan reveal from years ago, where they had all of those Meltan spawn in Pokemon GO without it ever officially being revealed beforehand. Once caught, they turned into Dittos. Then they released a trailer where Professor Willow and Professor Oak discuss the phenomenon and reveal Meltan

I adore these kinds of reveals that play with the fourth wall and I think the Zorua one has been their best one yet

[ethereousdelirious]

I'm kind of reliving my childhood, what with the D.iamond and P.earl remakes getting released (even if I hadn't had a chance to play them yet lmao), so I wrote this as a gift to my you get self, who was absolutely OBSESSED with Lucian for some reason 😝

Fandom: P.okémon D.PPt

Characters: L.ucian, F.lint (+ a little bit of C.ynthia)

Pairing: N/A

Tropes: Whump I guess?? Lite Whump, cave-in, migraine, clumsy attempts at caretaking, vomiting (non-graphic), minor blood & injury

Summary: Turns out, there's no corporate bonding exercise on Earth that can touch the efficacy of getting trapped in a collapsed cave

Lucian wasn't acting right.

Not that Flint was exactly an expert on how Lucian should and should not act. The members of the Sinnoh Elite Four spent maddeningly little time together; it was practically a miracle Flint even knew all their names. But Lucian was usually calm, collected, and polite, if a little distractible. That was how Flint knew him.

Today, Lucian was pale and listless. He blinked too much behind his shaded glasses and kept glancing over to his right as though to make sure Flint was still there.

"Nervous?" Flint asked, possibly putting the pieces together. A bad case of nerves would explain everything.

"Not really," Lucian replied, cool and quiet as ever. His irises flicked up and down the length of Flint's body and his brow creased. "Are you?"

"No," said Flint, and shoved his tongue against the back of his teeth, tracing over the sharp edges of his canines. Maybe nothing was wrong and he was being stupid.

But they both paused upon reaching the north entrance to Victory Road. It opened before them, wide and dark, ready to swallow them deep into the belly of the mountain. In sync, they stepped off the grass and into the mouth of the cave.

After a few steps, the lights kicked on, lighting up everything with a gentle green glow. Besides the electric hum and the crunch of their footsteps over the hard-packed dirt, there was no sound. Not the cries of wild Pokémon, not the drip of water. Just agonizing white noise, creating the perfect echo chamber for Flint's nerves to kick up. Victory Road wasn't supposed to collapse; it was too well-built.

Flint swallowed down his nerves and turned to Lucian. "I sure hope nobody's hurt. I was talking to the nurse in the lobby before you got here and she said she could feel the tremors. Even knocked over some of her equipment!"

Lucian nodded, his eyes low. In the cool green lights, he looked even paler, and his violet curls cast shadows on his face. Maybe he was nervous.

If he was, Flint couldn't blame him. Despite the reports of an isolated collapse near the entrance, cracks littered the walls and floor of the tunnel. At first, Flint had thought they were normal, but as they continued on, the cracks got deeper and longer, even buckling the edges of the support struts overhead.

"Hold on a second," Flint said, stepping across the wide path to examine one particularly off-kilter beam. "This doesn't look right, does it?"

Lucian came over to take a closer look, gently running his fingertips along the damaged metal. "No," he said finally. "If the collapse happened near the south entrance, I don't think we should be seeing this kind of—" He cut himself off with a tremulous gasp like he might sneeze. Flint tore his gaze away from the beam, but Lucian was already speaking again: "—this kind of damage here."

A pebble skittered down the sloped wall and landed at Flint's feet. He looked up instinctively, expecting to see a Zubat, but there was nothing. "Maybe we'd better get out of here and wait for the Rangers," he said, biting down thoughtfully on his tongue. In truth, he was starting to get a little freaked out, not to mention that Lucian looked about three seconds away from having a panic attack. Never mind what he had said earlier, something was clearly bothering him. A sweat had broken out on his brow despite the cool air of the cave and his breathing was sharp, uneven. Flint shifted his weight. "But… If someone is hurt, I don't just want to abandon them here."

"Think of it this way." Lucian hadn't taken his eyes off the damaged support beam. "If this tunnel collapses and traps us, we're no good to anybody, anyway."

"Good point," said Flint. A shower of pebbles landed at his feet and he winced, the newfound discomfort deepening into fear as the ground began to vibrate, accompanied by the scream of straining metal. It stopped after a few seconds and he turned to meet Lucian's eyes. "Let's get out of here!"

Lucian nodded and they started to walk at a much greater pace than before, Lucian on the right this time. Pebbles continued to fall and metal structures groaned as the ground trembled in patterns. "I wonder if the initial collapse agitated some wild Pokémon," Lucian said. He had one hand fisted in his hair now, pulling his glasses slightly askew with the intensity of his grip.

Flint looked at him, even slowing his pace, but all thoughts of a reply fled from his mind at the sight of a rain of rocks and dust from the right side of the tunnel. The wall was collapsing and Lucian— He'd gone oddly stiff, eyes empty. Flint grabbed him by the arm and yanked him backwards as the ground started to shift, and then the world became nothing but the roar of shifting earth and straining metal.

He should cover his mouth.

His first coherent thought as he heard himself coughing.

He grabbed his shirt collar and dragged it over his mouth and nose, shivering at the frigid air on his belly. Okay. Breathing. He could breathe. That was good. That meant he was still alive. He felt for the Pokéballs on his hip. All there, all intact. Rapidash, Lopunny, Steelix, Drifblim, Infernape. Good, good, good. What was next? Pain, probably. His left thigh burned despite an oddly clammy sensation on his skin. But if he could feel it, that meant he wasn't paralyzed. Another good sign. Okay. He could look at that later.

Flint sat up and cataloged another good thing: he could see! Pale white emergency lights lit up what remained of the corridor, glowing in the corners of what had once been the ceiling.

The collapse had left parts of the passageway surprisingly intact. It was more as though everything had slid downhill, leaving Flint at the top of a rocky slope overlooking a vast cavern of broken rock and twisted metal.

Chunks of rock surrounded him, floor to ceiling, walling him in. Chancing a mouthful of dusty air, he licked his thumb and stuck it out, feeling for a crossbreeze. And there it was. Faint, but bitter cold.

The sound of coughing diverted his attention for the moment, stabs of guilt temporarily dampening the ever-present pain from his leg, which he hadn't yet been brave enough to examine. "Lucian! You okay?"

"I'm not sure how to answer that," Lucian said. His voice was muffled and Flint looked around wildly but saw no trace of red fabric or blue hair to indicate Lucian's presence. "I don't believe my life is in any immediate danger. And you?"

His tone was so reminiscent of small talk that Flint couldn't help the hysterical laugh that leapt up from his chest. "I'm gonna say that next time somebody asks me how I'm doing," he announced, voice cracking with barely-suppressed mirth. He put on a passable impression of a Pokémon Center nurse, "'How are you today, Flint?' Well, I don't think my life is in immediate danger, but I'll keep you posted!" He laughed again, tears welling up in his eyes, until the sight of Lucian clambering out from behind a particularly large rock startled him into silence.

"Try to take a deep breath," Lucian advised as he continued to pick his way over to Flint. His progress was hindered by his seeming unwillingness to use his right arm, which he kept pressed to his belly.

"You're hurt," Flint observed, trying to position himself so he could observe the nature of Lucian's injuries without moving too much and causing a rock slide.

"Yes," Lucian said, pausing with his weight on his toes and squeezing his eyes shut. Whatever was wrong must have been excruciating, because, as Lucian got closer, Flint observed with a sickening pang of worry that he was trembling. "You're bleeding," Lucian said.

Flint leaned back against the rocks, just like he would lean up against his headboard when he was relaxing in bed at home. He laced his fingers together behind his head and stared at the shadowy ceiling. "How bad is it, Doc?"

A few rocks clicked and Lucian's labored breathing sent bursts of cold air across Flint's exposed skin. "It's hard to say. I think it's going to need stitches, but there's no… gore. That I can see."

"Oh." Flint let out a long sigh of relief.  "Good." He straightened up a little so he could flash a smile at Lucian, wrapping his arms around himself to ward off the chill in the air. "And how are you today, Mr Lucian?"

Lucian didn't smile back. If anything, the relief of seeing Flint relatively unharmed seemed to have drained all the tension from his body. All the tension, even what was keeping him upright. He slumped sideways against the slope of what had once been the wall, steadying himself on the piled up rocks. 

"Lucian?" Flint asked, trying to work out how to close the distance between them without jarring his leg.

"Sorry," said Lucian breathlessly. "I'm fine. Mostly. I think I sprained my wrist."

"You sure it's not broken?" Beads of sweat glimmered on Lucian's brow and upper lip. He had swept his long curls out of his face and now there was nothing hiding the pinched, pained expression that had peeked out even before the collapse.

"I'm not sure, actually," Lucian answered with a ragged exhale. Flint frowned at him. "What?" 

He had to be hiding something. Flint leaned forward, hand outstretched. Thankfully, only his muscles protested the movement, the normal pain of stretching slightly too far. But he kept going until he could press his palm to Lucian's cheek. The skin was clammy, with no trace of a fever smoldering beneath. But still, something was undoubtedly wrong with him. "You didn't see the wall start to collapse," Flint said, remembering. "You were facing forward; you should have seen the rocks start to come down. But I had to pull you out of the way."

"I…" Lucian began haltingly. A series of shrill beeps from Flint's Pokétch interrupted him and he shut his mouth.

"Oh!" said Flint, glancing down at his wrist. He was going to kiss whomever commissioned this app. Hell, he was going to kiss every single developer who worked on it. Help was on the way!

The Morse code was coming through on Cynthia's frequency. Flint furrowed his brow, trying to concentrate on the esoteric pattern of long and short beeps. Damn, he really should have studied.

"R U OK," Lucian said, drawing out the letters with his finger.

"Thanks." Flint sent back the one message he had long since memorized: S O S.

Cynthia sent back R, which Flint puzzled over until Lucian, who was covering his ears with his left hand and right shoulder, murmured, "Received."

"What's wrong?" Flint asked. Lucian had drawn his legs in toward his chest, a sort of loose fetal position on their shared bed of rocks. "Lucian, seriously, what's going on with you?" Panic, which had been lapping at the edges of Flint's mind since this had all started, began to take hold in earnest. The pounding of his heart in his chest became almost painful, his lungs burning against shallow, unsatisfying breaths. "Tell me how I can help you."

"I get migraines," Lucian said, not looking Flint in the eye. "It's fine; I'm not in danger, I just—"

"You're just in agony," Flint filled in the blank.

"I can't see out of my right eye," Lucian said. "And I'm sorry, but it's going to get worse before it gets better."

"Don't apologize to me!" Flint said, before realizing that shouting was probably the least helpful thing he could do. "Why didn't you say anything before?"

Finally, Lucian straightened and looked Flint in the eye. "We had a job to do."

"Now that's passion." Flint shook his head. "Well, try to make yourself comfortable. I'm going to look around a bit."

"Are you sure that's a good idea? Your leg…"

"If there's a way out of here, I don't want to miss it just because of a little scrape," Flint said, forcing a laugh.

"Be careful," Lucian said, and shut his eyes.

Flint eased himself up gingerly. While the ceiling was still high enough for him to stand, every movement dislodged rocks and sent them tumbling down the steep grade. It was probably safer to make like Infernape and use his hands and feet to make his way toward one of the massive piles of rock walling them in. On a whim, he pulled up the dowsing rod app in his Pokétch, drawing back in surprise when something pinged.

In his excitement, he nearly called up to Lucian before remembering. Poor guy. Headaches were no fun, and it sounded like Lucian had one the size of a Wailord. Light and sound would only make it worse. Flint looked guiltily up at Lucian's unmoving form before tapping his Pokétch again. If there was something useful buried in all this rock, Flint was going to find it.

He took deep breaths as he followed the signal, thankful that the dust had settled. As terrifying as this whole thing was, he couldn't imagine how much worse it would be if he was half-blind and in agony, too. Lucian was practically helpless up there, alone in the cold. Flint would just have to find something awesome and cheer him up.

He tapped his screen again, studying the blinking dot. Between the rocks and his injured leg, it was slow going. Every wrong move made his muscles seize, but at least the all the movement warmed him up a little. His ears and nose still ached with the cold, but much of the discomfort had faded.

Finally, he reached the location of the little blinking dot. He didn't even have to do much digging before he pulled up a large plastic bin with the Pokémon Center logo on it.

Flint's heart did a flip as memories washed over him. Someone, probably Cynthia, had once mentioned caches of survival supplies buried shallowly in Victory Road. This had to be one of them. Experimentally, he tugged on one of the handles, but the bin was too heavy to move. Damn, he was going to need Lucian's help.

Lucian was shivering. He was still curled up against the rocks clutching his injured wrist close. He didn't look up at the sound of Flint's approach, nor did he even seem to notice.

"Lucian?" Flint whispered.

Lucian lifted his head, struggling into a seated position despite Flint's noise of protest. "Yes?"

"How are you feeling?"

There was a pause, like Lucian was choosing his words carefully. "Not much better, I'm afraid. What's going on?"

"I found a box of supplies." Flint had pawed through it, heart leaping into his throat at the sight of water, energy bars, and a first aid kit. It was the water that was so heavy, but it was also the most important thing. "It's too heavy for me to move by myself, but… Well, either you could help me bring it up or we could just relocate down the slope."

Lucian nodded and shuddered, wrapping his good arm around himself. Flint cursed himself for never wearing a jacket. He had nothing to offer Lucian, not even a scarf. "Is there any advantage to staying up here?" Lucian asked.

"Not that I can see."

"Then I'll come down."

So Flint led Lucian down the slope. Something occurred to him as they got closer and he paused in an awkward crouch, one leg extended against a bare patch of earth. "Hey, Lucian?"

"Mm?"

"You'll tell me if you feel worse, right?"

"I…" Lucian looked down like he wanted to fidget but couldn't, given their precarious positioning. "I hadn't planned on it."

"I wish you would," Flint said, and then started to climb again.

"I'd rather not cause you any undue stress," Lucian explained once they reached the box. Tremors wracked him head to foot, and Flint swallowed back a wave of anxiety. He was warm again from the physical activity of climbing, and it stood to reason that Lucian was, too. So he had to be shaking from pain alone.

Flint reached out impulsively and took Lucian's hand. "I'm already worried about you. You can… You can trust me with this."

Lucian nodded, eyes downcast, and made no effort to take his hand back. "Usually I'm not properly awake for the worst parts. My medication makes me drowsy."

"Well," said Flint, flashing what he hoped was a reassuring smile and gesturing at the supply bin, "let's see what we can dig up."

He left the containers of water where they were, but began to pull the other things out, examine them, and set them on the bin's plastic lid. Lucian sat back and covered his eyes with his good hand (once again knocking his glasses askew), so Flint listed everything out loud: "Water, energy bars, first aid kit, plastic cup, reflective blanket and… Oh! Chocolate. Must be for morale."

"We should dress your wound," Lucian said, not dropping his hand from his face. "It's not good to have it out in the open like that."

"I got it," Flint said. "Don't move, okay?" He shook out the foil blanket, frowning when Lucian actually whined at the sound and curled in on himself. "Sorry," Flint whispered, draping the blanket over Lucian's shoulder, "but it'll at least help with the cold."

Lucian didn't seem to be able to speak, but he nodded, so Flint busied himself with the first aid kit. There were a few antibacterial wipes, but they didn't seem to be a good fit for this kind of injury, the gash being about five inches long. It was still bleeding, but only a little, thank goodness. Flint filled up the plastic cup with some of the water, braced himself, and poured it over his thigh. "Mmph!" The shock of ice cold water made all his muscles tense, but he managed to hold back a cry that surely would have echoed off the walls and caused Lucian pain. "Okay," Flint sighed, half to hype himself up and half so Lucian would know he wasn't dying. The first one was the worst, and he managed to rinse away all the little pebbles and fragments that had stuck in the congealing blood. That was good. He really didn't want to come out of this with an infection.

It took half a tube of antibiotic ointment to coat the gauze pad he'd chosen. It was just barely big enough to cover the gash, and red welts peeked out on either side. Ugh. He turned away and picked up the roll of cloth tape. His fingers were stiff and disagreeable, his hands shaking as he searched for the end. He'd have to join Lucian under the blanket soon, or at least climb up and down the slope a few times to get his blood pumping. Although that probably wasn't a good idea, considering the state his leg was in, stubbornly continuing to ooze blood into the loose gauze. Bracing himself, Flint taped it down over his ruined pants. Then he filled the plastic cup with water, tucked a packet of painkillers and some chocolate into his pocket, and scooted back over to Lucian.

"Hey, buddy," Flint said in a low voice.

Lucian didn't stir. He had braced his back up against a good-sized rock and drawn his knees in, his bad arm still pinned to his stomach and his good arm cushioning his forehead against his knees.

"I have painkillers," Flint tried again.

"How many?" Lucian asked, muffled.

"Six total."

"Save them."

"My leg doesn't hurt all that bad," Flint said. It wasn't a lie. It throbbed a little, but it was the cold that was really starting to bother him. "C'mon, take them, and then you can have some chocolate." Was bribing Lucian like a child a dirty move? Maybe so. But he clearly wasn't thinking straight, too caught up in what was evidently excruciating agony.

"Mm—" Lucian's body shook, his shoulders jolting forward as his muscles tensed, jumping visibly beneath the taut fabric of his suit.

"Please, Lucian?" Despite the cold, Flint let his body relax a little as his mind began to drift. Not even two hours ago, he and Lucian had been nothing more than coworkers fulfilling job duties, and now… Well, Flint had never expected to see his stoic colleague curled up in agony while they both crept closer and closer to death by hypothermia. Fuck, fuck, he couldn't afford to lose it now, not when he'd been doing so well keeping the panic at bay. Cynthia was coming. Probably with a whole team of Rangers behind her. They'd be out soon and Flint would have his leg bandaged properly and Lucian could take his meds and sleep for as long as he wanted. They were going to be okay.

Fuck, the room was spinning. Flint tightened his hands into fists. The cup's plastic handle dug into his palm.

"Breathe in for seven seconds," Lucian said.

"Huh?" Flint snapped out of it, his mouth curling reflexively into a smile.

Lucian had changed positions, resting his head in his palm and anchoring his elbow on his knee. He swallowed hard and repeated himself: "Breathe in for seven seconds. Slowly."

"Oh," said Flint. "Oh!" He hadn't been breathing. And it was so, so nice to have someone else step up to take control, if even for a moment. But he couldn't put that on Lucian, who looked as if he might keel over at any moment. Still, to placate him, Flint took a few deep belly breaths. "All better, see?"

"Good," Lucian said.

"Okay," said Flint. "Let's get some painkillers and water in you, and then we can snuggle up under that weird, crunchy blanket and focus on not freezing to death while we wait for rescue."

Lucian stiffened again, choking out a noise from somewhere in the back of his throat. "I'm not sure that's a good idea." He paused, but Flint only cocked his head and waited for him to elaborate. "I'm… I don't know if I can keep anything down right now, and given the close quarters, I'm sure we'd both rather I didn't…" He trailed off, gesturing vaguely outward.

"To be honest, hotshot, I'd rather risk it," Flint said, not even realizing the nickname had come out of his mouth until Lucian quirked an eyebrow at him. Flint ignored this. "You're clearly in a lot of pain and if there's even a slim chance that the pills will help, I want to take it."

"Your funeral," Lucian muttered, the first crack in his facade. It startled Flint into laughter and Lucian's eyes widened. "That was rude," he said, his voice sounding stronger than it had all day.

"I knew you had some fire in you." Flint grinned and passed over the plastic cup. "See if you can keep this down and then we'll try the pills, okay?"

"Here." Lucian scooted out from under the reflective blanket and held it out to Flint. Flint hesitated and Lucian raised an eyebrow. "Unless you want front row seats to the show?"

"Oh, no, good point." Flint took his time arranging the blanket, fussing like a Glameow so Lucian wouldn't feel watched. But even the odd metallic crinkle of the blanket couldn't block out the sound of vomit hitting the rocks, of Lucian's labored breathing and the small pained hums that accompanied it.

He didn't come back for a while, long enough that Flint's sympathetic worry turned to genuine concern that Lucian might have passed out, and he tore his gaze away from his shoes, heart racing.

He found Lucian's huddled form a little ways away, head up and chest heaving. Lucian caught his eye and gave a wry smile, wiping his mouth with a shaking hand. "Good news," he said weakly.

"I could use some good news."

"I can see out of my right eye again." Lucian's smile faded and his body seemed to deflate, tension bleeding out slowly until his head rested on the rocks. 

"Don't fall asleep," Flint said. "Want me to come to you?"

"I'll come up," Lucian said, so quietly that Flint could hardly hear him. "It's good cardio."

"I always knew you had a sense of humor somewhere under that suit," Flint said, smiling to hide his worry. Lucian was moving even slower now, probably impeded by sore muscles and, no doubt, a serious case of lightheadedness. Flint always got dizzy after throwing up and he had never had to traverse a treacherous pile of rocks afterward. "Although, I guess you'd have to have a good sense of humor to wear a suit like that in the first place." It was a weak attempt at ribbing and an admittedly cheap shot, but Lucian didn't seem offended.

"What…" He paused to catch his breath. "What's wrong with my suit?"

"Nothing, if you like red." Flint held out his hand to help Lucian up the very final stretch of hill. "How's your head? Don't be afraid to complain; really dig into it."

"I feel like Bronzong just hit me point blank with Flash Cannon." Lucian sat down by Flint, wrapping the blanket around his shoulders. "And by the way, I told you so."

"Ah, but puking your guts out cured your blindness," Flint said, grinning. "So you're welcome."

"Here's this back, by the way." Lucian set the plastic cup down on a rock in front of them. "Don't worry, I kept it clean." They were quiet for a moment. Then Lucian half-turned to look at Flint. "Was that Cynthia earlier?"

"Hm?" Flint had almost forgotten about that. "Oh, yeah. I think she knows I don't know Morse code that well."

Lucian nodded, his gaze unfocused and cloudy. "I was thinking…" A pause. "Um, a few of— of my Pokémon might be able to" —he gestured at the massive piles of rock walling them in— "but I didn't want to risk a collapse."

"Hey," said Flint as casually as he could manage. "Why don't you put your head on my shoulder and try to sleep?" Lucian was always eloquent, always articulate. He didn't stutter.

Lucian wiped the perpetual film of sweat from his forehead and leaned into Flint.

The silence was a new kind of psychological torture, something Flint had never endured. He had traveled caves before, but always with the expectation that someone would be there. A Hiker, an Ace, somebody. Or he could let his Pokémon out to walk with him. He didn't dare risk that now. The heat would be nice, but he didn't know how steady the air flow was. Adding another body, especially one that used as much oxygen as a Fire type, was just asking for trouble.

So it was just Flint, Lucian's ragged breathing, and the panic lurking at the corners of his mind, fading in and out like the ghosts at the Old Chateau. He stared blankly at the bandages on his leg. They were already collecting dust at the edges. How much of that was going into his lungs? How long had they been in here?

Flint set his Pokétch to mute and flipped through the apps until he found the clock. A little over two hours. That was it. It felt like a lifetime, and he wasn't even the one with the Regigigas-sized headache.

Lucian's cheek was clammy against the sensitive skin of Flint's neck. He still shuddered now and again despite the blanket reflecting their shared body heat back at them. What a mess. And why had Lucian agreed to come down in the first place when he was obviously indisposed? Like it wasn't obvious. Flint smiled grimly to himself. He would have done the same. It was in their nature, as it was in the nature of all good Trainers. Those without kind hearts rarely made good Trainers, and being one of the strongest in the region only added to that ingrained sense of responsibility.

Flint's Pokétch beeped and he flinched, digging his shoulder into Lucian, who gasped and pulled away. Flint's apology died on his lips as the beeping continued and Cynthia's name flashed on his screen. "Man, I really should have practiced Morse code."

"R U OK," Lucian mumbled.

"Again?"

"Probably trying to, um… to make sure we're not in danger." Lucian's eyes were far away, his words slurring. "Here." He worked his own Pokétch off and held it out to Flint.

"Thanks?" Flint looked down and everything made more sense. Lucian had his screen set to the Morse alphabet key. "Nice." Haltingly, he tapped out: YES NO. Pause. L SICK.

The response came seconds later: ON R WAY.

"They're on their way," Flint said.

Lucian nodded. He looked terribly unwell: his dark curls stuck to his cheeks, his pale lips shone with blood at the corners, his eyes never focused on anything for long. Again, Flint was struck with the deep worry that he might pass out and hurt himself.

Voice laden with faux-cheer, Flint leaned forward for the cup. "Ready to try some more water?"

Lucian looked warily at him. "No."

"Come on, you'll thank me later." Flint scooted around to the water containers. First, he quenched his own thirst, although he wasn't sure how much of his dry mouth was related to the crushing anxiety plaguing his mind. But the water did help, if only a little.

He only filled the cup a quarter of the way for Lucian, who really did look queasy. “Bottoms up.”

To his credit, Lucian really did try. After a few small sips, he tried a proper swallow, but doubled over nearly instantly, coughing up mouthfuls of water and dry-heaving when there was none left in his stomach. “Nnh.” He hung his head as he panted between his legs, his long hair obscuring his face.

“Shit,” Flint breathed, biting the inside of his cheek. Cynthia had better get here fast. “You okay?” Lucian listed forward, his fluttering eyelids clearly visible over his glasses, which had slid down his nose. Flint caught him and pulled him close, barely noticing the way the jerky movement jarred his injured leg. “Stay with me, Lucian.”

“Don’t feel good,” Lucian muttered into Flint’s chest.

“I know.” Barely aware he was doing it, Flint began to run a hand over Lucian’s tangled curls, careful not to let his fingers get caught up in any of the snags. “I’m sorry.”

Lucian didn’t answer. He didn’t even flinch when his glasses finally slid off, landing noiselessly in Flint’s lap. He just sat there and gasped like the cave was running out of oxygen.

Flint could have cried when the rocks started shifting. Wrapping his arms around Lucian, he started tapping frantically at his Pokétch, heedless of what jumbles of letters he might have been sending. And faintly, he could have sworn he heard Cynthia’s own Poketch beeping in response. It was agony to sit back and watch, unable to help, so he passed the time by gently working the tangles out of Lucian’s hair. “Is this okay?”

Lucian shrugged, listless and cold against Flint’s chest. “Sure.” He didn’t have the breath for longer sentences, and against Flint’s own chest, Lucian’s heart pounded.

Finally, finally, the rocks shifted enough to create a small opening and a Ranger appeared to guide them out.

Cynthia was waiting with her Togekiss on the other side. She appraised Flint and Lucian with a cool eye, concern evident only in the downturned corners of her mouth. Lucian was heavy at Flint's side, pulling down against his good leg. Flint was just happy they were both still standing.

"Well," she said, guiding Lucian onto Togekiss' back, "I won't ask if you're alright. How badly are you hurt?"

"I can walk," Flint said, though even standing sent radiating waves of pain through his damaged muscle. He didn't care. He would limp all the way back to the south entrance if it meant Lucian would be okay.

"I can't," Lucian muttered. Flint caught Cynthia's eye and they exchanged a baffled look before it sunk in. Lucian was making a joke.

"Just as long as you can keep yourself upright." Cynthia cocked her head at Flint. He nodded and started to limp down the path. It was surprisingly clear of debris given the destruction elsewhere.

"Do they know what happened yet?" Flint asked after he had established a rhythm, and the pain in his leg faded to background noise.

"Not exactly." Cynthia walked in the middle, one hand bracing Lucian's shoulder. "One of the trainers who evacuated after the initial collapse reported possibly seeing an agitated wild Pokémon."

"And the initial collapse?"

"Confirmed to be the result of multiple missed attacks hitting the same support beam during a battle."

"A freak accident."

"It appears that way."

Flint nodded, biting his tongue as one careless step threw him off balance and shot lighting bolts up and down his thigh. He staggered and caught himself on the wall, annoyed. He could literally see the light at the end of the tunnel, the warm welcoming glow of the Pokémon Center. "I'm fine," he said preemptively. "Let's just keep going."

They walked in silence the rest of the way, and when they finally hit the lobby, Flint's leg decided it had had enough. The muscles all seized up, forcing him to drop his weight to his good side and lower himself to the floor. He landed on his right hip, gasping out fragmented swear words and balling up his hands into fists. Every drop of adrenaline seemed to flee his system all at once, leaving him a shaking mess on the glossy tile. He forced breaths out through gritted teeth and couldn't even bring himself to be embarrassed at the tears that welled up in his eyes. His body hurt, not just his leg, but newfound bruises on his hips and sides. Pain made his muscles tense. He looked up, desperate for any distraction, and only found Lucian's ashen face. "Cyn!" He couldn't form full thoughts, couldn't make the right words. "Get him!"

Cynthia, ever quick on the uptake, dived across Togekiss and managed to catch Lucian as he fainted.

Then things got fuzzy as about a thousand Pokémon Rangers seemed to pour out from behind the counter of the Pokémon Center, descending on Flint with a barrage of questions about himself, about Lucian, about what had happened. A funny thing happened then.

Awareness slid away, but not consciousness with it, leaving him foggy-minded and dull, hesitating to answer questions he should have known by heart. Had someone drugged him? How could they have? Surely he would have noticed. People and Pokémon moved kaleidoscopically around him, until the lobby walls gave way to the uniform white of a procedure room.

A sting of pain brought him back to reality and he realized with a jolt of nausea that he had just watched someone inject a numbing agent into his leg. Right. To stitch his wound. "Can I see Lucian?" he asked impulsively, realizing a moment later that it was probably best not to distract the person sewing his skin together.

To his credit, the Ranger did not answer until he had finished. "I'll let you go in just a bit," he said, and his smile seemed genuine enough. "Just need to go over care instructions and see if we can dig up some crutches in the supply closet. Otherwise, it's a wheelchair for you."

"I'll take the wheelchair," Flint said instantaneously. "I just… I need— Is he okay?"

"Aside from the dehydration, he's in better shape than you are. No open wounds."

Flint endured the lecture about taking care of his stitches and making sure he took all his antibiotics. He was practically vibrating where sat when another Ranger came in with a wheelchair, and threw himself down in it without waiting for further instructions.

Over the squeaking of wheels, he heard frantic muttering followed by a resigned sigh. "First door on your right."

Flint waved his thanks and nearly wheeled himself into the wall before righting himself again.

To his immense relief, Lucian was sitting up in bed, listening attentively while Cynthia talked. He had even regained some color, probably due to the IV leading into the crook of his injured arm.

"Sorry," Flint said, holding up his hands in faux-surrender, "didn't mean to interrupt."

"Make an appointment with my secretary and try again later," Lucian said, a familiar wry smile on his lips.

"I hope you're not referring to me." Cynthia got up and gestured, asking if Flint wanted help getting in.

He nodded. "Sorry, hotshot, looks like your bodyguard has abandoned you."

"Now that's more like it." Cynthia wheeled Flint up to Lucian's bedside and sat back down. "Well, do you get to keep the leg?"

"They actually already chopped it off." Cynthia and Lucian both chuckled politely, but the worry never quite faded from their eyes. Flint decided to give up the game. "Nah, they got me all stitched up and everything. They just couldn't find any crutches for me and I was in a hurry to check on my survival buddy here. How we feeling, hotshot?"

"I'm on the uphill," Lucian said, pushing up his glasses. "The IV fluids were more of a precaution than anything and my wrist is only sprained, and not even that severely."

"Good," said Flint. His eyes traveled from the cast back up to Lucian's eyes and some feeling hesitated on his lips, not yet ready to become words.

"I'm going to go get a coffee," Cynthia said suddenly. She shut the door behind her.

"I'm glad you're okay," Flint said finally. "I was so worried and— Gods, I felt so bad that I kept trying to you to drink—"

"You did the right thing," Lucian interrupted. "And— Really, I think you saved me a lot of pain. I don't think that experience would have been nearly as pleasant if I'd been alone. So thank you, Flint. Truly."

"No worries, man." Flint grinned, feeling like a weight had just fallen from his ribcage. "You can make it up to me with a sizzling hot Pokémon battle when you're all better."

Lucian smiled back, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I'd be happy to."