#emeraldanalytics

The answer repeated itself in her memory: not hard at all. But--with great difficulty--Violet restrained herself. Because, as much as she hated to believe it, Thorton was seemingly telling the truth. What if he was the only programmer left in this desolate cityscape? Had he really presided over her awesome and terrifying creation? Caught in a maddening game of mutually-assured destruction, the tinkerer had the mechanical powerhouse trapped in a world of possibility. The robot felt the leverage that she thought she had drop out from under her feet...but not all was lost. Violet could still get what she wanted.

“Foolish lab rat,” she sneered, sending Thorton toppling backwards with the lightest shove to his chest. “You wish to use your life and your secrets as bargaining chips to control me? I will merely pursue other options to achieve my objective. You will divulge your secrets.”

Violet’s visor flashed red, and the mech rose higher in the rain, thunder booming as she turned towards the lights of the city.

17. What is your muse’s occupation? What do they think of it?

Sycamore: Pokémon Professor.

Fontaine: Artist.

Violet would never let herself grow numb to these all-too-common scenes within her hometown, so she merely retreated to the Battle Factory to bottle everything up and stow it away. Thorton always knew when his girlfriend was visiting on these occasions, because the usual flicker of mischief in her eyes would be replaced with a glassy, dead stare.

On this particular afternoon, the Brain sensed the signs. When Violet marched into the usual guest room to agonize over the latest maligned youths, she was surprised to find Thorton waiting for her. 

“Bad day, huh?” the Brain tried, wincing as the Nighthawk predictably struck back with a throaty fuck off, Skeleton Boy. Still determined to get this right, Thorton slid off the bed as Violet hunched silently over the mattress, her eyes digging holes in the covers. Carefully at first, the Brain reached out and gently placed his hand on his girlfriend’s muscular shoulders, which were surprisingly shaky to the touch. The Nighthawk’s muscles tensed, but she didn’t shrug him off, and Thorton rubbed her back sympathetically.

“it’s okay to hurt & breakdown. you don’t have to be strong all the time.”

The Brain reddened as he said that (even surprising himself) and prepared himself for the backlash. Instead, to his surprise, Violet leaned against his shoulder, let out a dry, rueful laugh, and began to cry.

His body felt sore and achy but it was the good kind. He knew that this meant that his muscles were repairing itself and this would lead to them becoming stronger. Riley took his time in washing off the grime and dust, spending quite a bit of time in the shower before he finally emerged with a towel wrapped around his waist. 

He quickly slipped into some boxers, forgoing a T-shirt for the time being. Riley went to the kitchenette and grabbed a bottle of juice from the fridge. Twisting the cap off, he headed into the living room and with his free hand, switched on the television. As the channel showed some sort of reality TV show, he took a swig of his sugary drink.

When his PokeGear suddenly rang, it admittedly surprised him enough that he nearly spat out his drink. Swallowing it quickly with a few coughs, he picked it up and checked the caller ID. Surprise briefly washed over him at the name but he still picked up the call.

“Hello? This is Riley speaking? To what pleasure do I owe this call for, Lucas?”

“Hey there Riley...” Lucas responded softly, which made him frown. Well, he sounded a bit off? Had something happened?

“Are you alright, Lucas?” In the mean time, Riley quickly lowered the volume so he could really focus on this call.

There was a beat of silence before, “What do you do when you can’t sleep?”

Ah, so it was about that. Riley’s face twisted into a sympathetic look even if Lucas can’t see it. “Well, first I would try making a warm drink. Maybe some hot chocolate or even some heated Moo Moo milk. If that doesn’t help much, I find that reading a book would help me feel sleepy. Hmm... if all of that doesn’t work, you can just talk to me until you fall asleep. I don’t mind at all.”