There was a Pokemon watching them from one of the higher cliffs, silhouetted by the heavy fog. Despite the lack of visibility, Akari brightened.
“Lady Sneasler!” She called, and the Pokemon drew nearer, using its hideously long claws to moderate the descent as it slid down the steep slope. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you!”
The closer it came, the more details became visible; this was, without a doubt, the Noble from the records.
[…]
While the Lady of the Highlands was initially making a beeline for Akari, she stopped cold when the proximity revealed their group in full. When she moved again, it was with renewed speed and a different trajectory, inviting herself into Emmet’s space without warning. She leaned entirely too far in, snuffling at his jaw and collar, then backed of just a hair, allowing herself to take the edge of his coat in between two claws and test its weight. She gave a stern trill of a chirp and then turned to her original quarry.
—
The wall of vines shifted, revealing two large eyes peering down at them; they settled on Sneasler and, slowly, cleared a pathway. Tangrowth allowed the Noble to pass without comment, but made a low keening sound at the humans who followed; Sneasler waved a claw and it fell silent, ambling back into place at the mouth of the cave.
This threw the cavern into near-darkness. Scattered throughout, there were visible shapes– shallower in the blackness than the stone walls– and one of these moved from its position on the perimeter to meet them. There was a flash of light, which illuminated the chest and four arms of a Machamp, holding a torch with one hand while another drew away, still glowing red-hot from its application of Fire Punch.
Not unlike Sneasler, it paused at the sight in front of him, but didn’t seem to give it quite as much thought as the Noble had, and backed off without invading Emmet’s space.
“Oh, good,” Akari sighed, half turning to look back at the entryway, “That’s Sneasler, Tangrowth and Machamp. If Gliscor’s here, too then– oh. Wow.”
[…]
Emmet wasn’t paying attention. Akari had put emphasis on a Gliscor, and there was one such Pokemon camped out on the far side of the chamber, watching them with suspicious eyes. It gave a horrible, dry hiss as he drew nearer, but Sneasler chirped at it and, reluctantly, it scented the air. Whatever it found was enough to make it back off, in as much as a creature laying flat on the ground could do so, and its [growl] as he knelt next to it was halfhearted at best.
Under different circumstances, the territorial behavior would have warranted further training– but for now, perhaps it was more accurate to call Gliscor’s demeanor protective.
“I am here to help. But first I must learn the nature of the malfunction.”
Deep in its throat, Gliscor growled, but warily drew its wing in against its body. This revealed two points of interest: the more important was the human-sized pile of blankets, rising and falling with each wheeze that came from underneath. Less important, but much more noticeable in the dim light, was the Sneasel curled up between the blankets and Gliscor, which looked up at Emmet balefully, before descending into confused chatter. With an exasperated [chuff], Sneasler leaned over and plucked it up by the scruff.
With, presumably, her offspring scaling one arm, she gave her head a challenging tilt. Not quite a demand, but very close.
[…]
His hair was tangled and beginning to mat where it had been tied back. While it had served the function of keeping it out of his face, it had clearly gone some time without being combed out and refastened– but that much was understandable. He clearly hadn’t had the energy to spare, and the Pokemon wouldn’t think to do anything about it.
[…]
Something rolled away with the movement, and the Sneasel immediately scrambled down its mother and ran back over, deftly escaping Akari’s lunge. Gliscor didn’t even bother with it as it scuttled to its original position, catching the [escaped] pecha berry and pressing it insistently into the palm of Ingo’s hand.
“Oh sweetie,” Elesa sighed, gauging how best to extract the Sneasel without getting stuck by its claws, “That’s super thoughtful, but he’s not poisoned.”
“I don’t think that’s even possible.” Akari muttered, [doing something], “I watched him take a Poison Jab from a tantrum-y Sneasel once and all he did was roll his eyes.”
—
Elesa was exactly where he’d last seen her, albeit with a comb in one hand and a clump of hair in the other. She’d managed to work the leather tie out of the disaster that had once been a bun, and was doggedly trying to work the snarls out from the bottom.
Emmet decided he would leave her to it. She’d have a much better idea how to approach the problem than he would.
[…]
“I haven’t had to do this for either of you since we were kids,” / “It brings back memories. Maybe I should comb it for him when he wakes up, too– see if it shakes anything loose.”
“It’s verrrry odd that he tolerated it at this length.” [dialogue tag], and she hummed an absent affirmative.
“Oh, that’s normal around here.” Akari put in [from whatever she’s doing], “It’s pretty common in Jubilife, and a lot of high-ranking Diamond reps have long hair. Not as much with the Pearls, I guess, but they’re kind of weird about what’s allowed to take up space.”
—
While Sneasler purred away, Elesa took him by the shoulder to the most remote part of the cavern they could get.
“I think we need to consider finding actual medical attention.” / “It’s been a full [timeframe] and we haven’t seen any improvement– if anything, his fever’s worse than it was when we got here.”
[Emmet doesn’t disagree; he’s just worried about movement.]
[…]
There was no response forthcoming, so it hung in the air, unanswered for several minutes. Ingo shifted minutely. The angle of it suggested he was trying to turn to stifle a cough into his elbow, but he wasn’t able to get that far on his own. Unperturbed, Emmet helped steady the motion and, when the coughing fit passed, began to settle him back into place.
The key word being ‘began’.
“Elesa,” He said with a forced calm that didn’t suit the way he gingerly gathered his twin up, “You were correct. We are going now.”
“Whoa, hold on there, that’s really sudden. Shouldn’t we at least figure out how we’re doing this before we move him?”
“There is blood on my coat.” Emmet said without preamble, “This is beyond our ability to assist. I will not lose him when we’ve come this far.”
—
He blinked at her, [idk], “I will take precautions. But if I become ill, then I become ill. I will not be uncoupled from him again.
[…]
“Emmet… is a beast of his own. We’re not going there tonight, okay?”
“Uh, wait,” Iris [idk], “But he’s sick…?”
She gave a rueful snort, “Not yet, he’s not.”
“…why’re you at the hospital, again?”
In that moment, the light bulb in Elesa’s fried brain went off. Despite the circumstances, she felt a smile building.
“Turn video on for me?” She asked, easing her way into the room and, sotto, added, “And keep it down if you can.”
The feed flickered to life, displaying Iris’s confused face, Drayden close in the background. She wasn’t about to mess with the room’s lights, so, instead, Elesa angled herself to work with the ambient lighting while keeping her quarries firmly in frame. Iris leaned closer to her Xtransceiver, brows knitting together as she worked through what she was seeing; it wasn’t much of a surprise that she connected the dots before Drayden, who was at the disadvantage of leaning in by her shoulder.
“That’s…!”
At the [idk], Elesa clamped a hand over her Xtransceiver and slunk back to the hallway, only uncovering the device once the door was safely shut behind her.
“Sure is,” She said, grinning into the camera, though it mellowed as she added, “He’s really sick, but he’s finally when he’s supposed to be.”
—
He hesitated, just for a second, but it made Elesa’s heart clench in anticipation for what she knew he was about to say.
“The Pearl Clan considers space itself sacred, and the act of sharing space even moreso; it’s vital to keep in mind how much you take up and not to encroach on others’. Being that I’m not part of the clan, I was asked to find a home station elsewhere.”
“That’s odd,” Elesa said, utilizing ever bit of poise in her to keep her voice steady, even as she privately found herself unable to prioritize [?] or anger, “Everyone we met referred to you as one of the Pearl Clan’s Wardens.”
“It’s a very fine yellow line, and they took great pains not to cross it.” On most people, that expression would be a grim smile; on Ingo, it looked thunderous, even though he wasn’t mad, “I was Lady Sneasler’s human liaison first, which is why the Pearl Clan had to lay a claim, if only nominally.”
With her face in her hands, Akari said, “Because she’s a Pearl Noble, and if they didn’t, the Diamond Clan would have an edge on them.”
He ducked his head and stifled a shallow cough into his elbow; when he surfaced again, it was to wheeze a short, “Precisely.”
—
“Ingo. Sweetie.” / “You got shanked on the blue line years ago, and while I was freaking out about blood loss, you looked me dead in the eye and said that was a misnomer, because you knew exactly where the blood was.”
“I believe it was that level of joke that endeared you to Elesa to begin with.”
“Oh yeah, and you’re soooo much better.”
“We are identical.” He said by way of defending himself, watching as Ingo contemplatively raised a hand to trace where the scar was hidden. When Ingo looked to him, questioning, Emmet gave a firm nod.
Slowly, his hand moved up from the ribs, idling over his heart. “Do you know…? These ones seemed… different.”
“Okay!” Elesa said, clapping her hands to draw attention, “Ladies, maybe we should give the boys a minute–”
Unruffled, Emmet leaned over and murmured something to his brother.
“Oh, a minor renovation, then. That’s understandable; I was concerned for how deliberate they looked.”
—
“No offense,” Akari said, “But you might not want to wear that out in the city, especially if we’re sticking around.”
As she gestured to his coat, Ingo’s hand absently moved to its collar, tugging it ever-so-slightly tighter to himself, but then he sighed, stifled a cough, and relented. Mindful of its fragility, he removed it and draped it over one arm.
[…]
[the others leave to do something]
He was roused from his thoughts by a weight across his shoulders– its distribution familiar, if slightly heavier than he was used to– and looked up to find Emmet smoothing down a white collar.
“You may borrow it.” He said brightly, “We will find you a substitute appropriate for civilization. Until then, I do not mind.”
“You don’t have to do that. I’ll be fine.”
“Maybe so.” / “But there’s no reason to make yourself anxious with such an easy solution at hand.”
[…]
As Ingo settled the mask in place, Emmet paused, watching with a gleam in his eyes. He laced his fingers together in front of a growing grin.
“Would you like to play a verrrrry childish joke with me?”
There was a beat of silence.
“I’m listening.”
[break to the others coming back]
The alarm bells should have gone off when the boys joined them and both were wearing face masks, but, working in public transit, it wasn’t an unusual look for either of them, and Elesa dismissed it.
[…]
‘Emmet’ descended into a coughing fit.
Belatedly, Sneasler’s presence at his side clicked.
“Oh come on, what are you two, twelve?” Elesa asked, herding them out of the way until the fit passed.
“If it helps at all,” Ingo eventually wheezed, propped up against his brother’s shoulder, “I only have two years’ worth of memory. That must average out.”
She blew out a frustrated sigh. “God I missed you.”
—
“Chandelure’s fine,” He said with a calm confidence. Chandelure gave a high trill and nestled happily into his side, moving one of her stiff arms to hug back, “She’s very emotionally mature, so she understands perfectly well that sometimes younger siblings can be needy.”
Gliscor didn’t seem to see any problem with this statement– but, then again, it hadn’t actually been aimed at him.
“I beg your pardon?” Emmet asked. The performative tightness of his voice was belied by how genuine his grin was.
Ingo had already been watching him from the edges of his vision, and now he shifted properly, putting his twin foremost. His expression was inscrutable as ever, but there was an affection in the responding, “I said what I said. Always the same, if you will.”