[Lance] - [a champion defends]

“…true, though flying on any type of pokemon that can use the move also works.

Just do not fly on them during a thunderstorm.” He remembered that date quite well.

“Theoretically, but I’ll still argue that dragons are the best option.” Because dragons.

After reading through the card, Lance slices the tape with a knife and removes the wrapping. Truffle may want it, and there's no telling if he'd prefer it folded or crumpled and torn. Lance will let the Altaria decide that for himself.

The box itself is thin and rectangular: a base and a lid that lifts off to reveal a gleaming plaque. It's in the style of twenty-fourth century Starfleet starship dedication plaques, but instead of a well-known ship from the series, this one features one by the name USS Indigo.

Jokes on them; he stayed up late the night before polishing off his backlog, so all that's waiting on his desk is new business. There's the dragons to tend to, of course, but Falkor can handle that.

There was the smallest of huffs from Karen as he gave rational behind not letting her sleep in the tunnel. It made sense, and he was right but she didn’t want to admit how bad she felt with ruining his evening. It was now starting to phase her drunk mind that she had thrown his schedule for the evening out of whack completely as his face grew evermore pensive. 

Resigning to quietly eat and drink as he shoveled food she tried not to let her anxious mind disturb her too much. Drake was able to wiggle enough space to shake the water from his head, but otherwise stayed put stuck feeling her whirlwind of emotions hidden by a drunken haze. This would be fun in the morning, was all his mind could repeat back to.

Speaking of pokemon Trouble finally hopped off Lance’s shoulder for a moment. Landing on Garnet as she circled around Karen he snagged something off her able to do so without her noticing. When Garnet walked under the table to circle Lance he hopped on the champion’s lap. Waiting till eye contact was made he then set the keys loosely in Lance’s Kimono for him to handle. With that settled he made his way back to Lance’s shoulder going back to surveying the area for them. There now Karen couldn’t be stupid.

“Oh! Lance, Truffle and I will clean your house. See less for you to do!”

She suddenly blurted out after a long stretch of silence possibly still thinking of something else. The excitement came at a jolt of her arm, thankfully with no spilling, but the sudden movement contrasted her lapse of quiet. 

Lance felt the keys drop into his lap just as he gulped down the last of his rice. Yes, good; her pokemon were looking out for her, as well. He could leave her at his house for a while. He clipped the keys into his pokeball belt, hidden in the folds of his layered kimono and gave Trouble a quick, terse smile.

It grew more tenuous and apprehensive after Karen made her suggestion. Drunk Karen, cleaning his house. With Truffle, who absolutely did not know how to handle drunk humans. It was ... very kind of her to offer, but. "I ... think Truffle may already have it ready to go." Please let Truffle already have it done. "But ... if not, I'd appreciate the help."

He did his best to keep the apprehension out of his voice. It was a kind offer. It did not sound like a helpful offer, but maybe he'd be pleasantly surprised. And, if nothing else, it would keep her somewhere safe while he was busy.

Lance finished off his coffee and gathered the remains of his hurried meal back onto its tray. "Why don't we go see how he's doing? Bundle up; it's gotten even colder."

He stood and collected the tray, bringing it back to the bar as pretense to talk to his fourth cousin again. "Alex," he said, voice icily casual, "make sure someone brings more miso soup and coffee to my house before the parade is over. Yes?"

(The other staff once tried to get passed a locked door. The pokemon stopped that immediately, and made sure the story was so terrifying it never happened again. At least that's what I imagine happened.)

@pkmnsdarkqueen

December always passed in a blur for Lance. League obligations, the everyday work responsibilities, desperately straining to get through his backlog and get ahead as much as possible in preparation for New Year's ... Inevitably, that final week would arrive before he'd had time to fully accept that the month had begun.

He'd have completely lost track of what day it was if there hadn't been so many holiday functions and odd hours this week. Even then, he was a bit startled to discover his abruptly tidy workspace and the gift waiting on his desk.

Lance would be the first to admit: when Karen first started as an Elite, he'd wondered if he'd made a mistake. But any reservations he'd had had since completely evaporated. These people were just as much--if not more--family to him than the hometown he'd be heading to in a few short days. Karen certainly knew exactly what he needed to get through the week.

“It comes out every year with some relation to Santa. It started out as something harmless to entertain children until Santa arrived.” Now it became a toll for him to have a little fun with people he knew/

He’s a little concerned by the qualifier. Started out as something harmless? “Hm.”

Mewmas had never been much of a thing in Blackthorn, especially with the New Year so close at hand. He used to think that he’d missed out, but then things like this showed up, and he was increasingly relieved to have avoided them. Whatever the heck they are.

“Okay, but consider: It’s Mewmas.”

A pause. “Alright. You are exempt from the doll.” Koga, Bruno, and Karen were not.