#we open

there are a few things 𝔀𝓻𝓸𝓷𝓰 with this picture – and it’s not 𝓳𝓾𝓼𝓽  the 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮𝓵𝔂 possibility of the interior designer being 𝓫𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓭 when they applied their 𝓼𝓾𝓫𝓳𝓮𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓿𝓮𝓵𝔂 artistic vision to the place. it’s also 𝓷𝓸𝓽 the lack of 𝓪𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷 to 𝖉𝖊𝖙𝖆𝖎𝖑. can you believe there’s something 𝓯𝓪𝓻 more troublesome to the elite than heinous 𝓭𝓮𝓬𝓸𝓻? for arceus’ sake! he just entered 𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓮𝓲𝓰𝓷 territory with the intention of, at the very 𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓽, shooting dice. the home-turf advantage of these 𝓼𝓲𝓷𝓷𝓸𝓱 gamblers, with their shirts already un-tucked 𝔀𝓮𝓵𝓵 before midnight, kisses the tops of their hands. are they 𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓷 𝖆𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖊 of it? this unfortunate epiphany jolts through grimsley with a sharp inhale. his eyes widen. his fingers curl and stiffen like a wax statue waiting for a glass of champagne.

“ oh no, oh no, 𝓸𝓱 𝓷𝓸 . ” grimsley mutters frantically to himself. he tugs at both breasts of his overcoat. “ this is a 𝓶𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓴𝓮, grimsley! have you gone 𝓶𝓪𝓭? you cannot 𝓹𝓵𝓪𝔂 here. oh, no, no, 𝓷𝓸. you do not 𝓫𝓮𝓵𝓸𝓷𝓰 here . ”

as grimsley attempts to calm himself, he notices the very thing he overlooked before. for a place that teases a potential 𝓮𝔁𝓹𝓵𝓸𝓼𝓲𝓸𝓷 of luck, it’s 𝓪𝔀𝓯𝓾𝓵𝓵𝔂 𝖖𝖚𝖎𝖊𝖙, aside from the jazz music drifting from the speakers. the place is a vacuum of socializing-sound. pivoting on the heel of his leather shoe, grimsley surveys the game corner. the rows of slot machines – the valley of billiards and craps tables – are 𝓫𝓪𝓻𝓻𝓮𝓷.  a few stragglers try their hand at the slots, but everyone 𝓮𝓵𝓼𝓮 is huddled at the bar tucked into the back corner of the casino. this phenomenon both 𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓻𝓲𝓰𝓾𝓮𝓼 and confuses him. grimsley’s innate 𝓫𝓸𝓻𝓮𝓭𝓸𝓶, for a moment, vanishes. “ what ever 𝓯𝓸𝓻 ? ”

faust has never been one for parties, if you couldn’t tell. his short fuse, blatant impatience with others, and too intimidating of a demeanor for an average nineteen-year-old don’t necessarily make him a qualifying party guest. and like parties, faust has never been one for costumes, either. luckily, his waxy skin and elaborate cloak counts as enough for a vampire getup. but, whatever  — he’s here; at some manor, estranged from civilization, complete with a disquieting, once-upon-a-stormy-night ambiance. the inside of the house directly contrasts with the outside. every light in the place glows  —  whether bulb or candle — and it is warm, strangely inviting. halloween decorations accent the corners of the foyer and the vacant wall space: polyester spiderwebs strewn across the room, plump, multi-colored wax pumpkins, and plastic, black bats. faust coughs behind his hand. “ how . . . tacky , ” he muses through his teeth. 

faust takes a gander around the foyer, squinting and rubbing at his chin —  where is everybody else? the subtle heels of faust’s leather shoes clack against the lacquered hardwood floors. there is an echo. he peers out into the archway to his right. there is a hallway, stretching on and on and lined with doors, decisions. at the end of the hall, faust sees two sconces hanging on either side of a grand, ornate door. the candles flicker, swaying like two metronomes, hypnotizing faust and drawing him in. this place is much bigger on the inside than it is on the outside; a trick of the eye, against all better judgement. 

an empty manor, a brewing storm outside. a surprise invitation, a silence that makes your skin crawl. it’s the perfect recipe for all hallow’s eve festivities and frights  — and that’s where the murder comes in. no  — it’s not all fake, syrupy blood and props; no fog machines and makeup. trust him: faust has seen enough injuries in his life to know that whoever sent him the invitation isn’t fucking around. now, his crime-solving instincts take center stage, alongside his desensitization to death. well, things seem to be getting much darker than even he could anticipate. faust crouches beside the pool of blood in the middle of the hall. 

a part of him applauds the mastermind behind all this  — the cosmog wax seal, the proper haunting location, and an element of gore otherwise unforeseen. “ the orchestration is . . . unique. to say the least,” faust grimaces —  so who’s the sick fuck? 

“ but, i do wish this mission would hurry itself up. this heat and sweat is starting to get unbearable . ” he wipes sweat off his face with the palm of his hand. even underneath a large, black umbrella, the gang member is roasting his ass off on the beach  – why are people so attracted to this kind of place ? he wonders, scrunching his button nose. at least kalos has seasons! 

“ i thought i told you to relax for a bit, slater , ” the commander-in-chief’s gruff voice crackles through the device in faust’s ear. he’s a loyal forty-something year old with an enmity for the gang leader’s attitude, which makes ordering him around much more fun.

“ i am on the beach , ” faust replies, bluntly. the tide crashes, as if wanting to prove its own existence. he pushes his over-sized sunglasses back up the narrow slope of his nose. the lenses, thick and black. they keep him incognito, while also keep the sun from blistering his fair skin. two fletchling with one stone, some would say. chief sighs, “ we did have that encounter with UB-01. which, i do believe puts us one step ahead of aether . ”

faust scoffs, “ a step ahead? you morons let it get away! and you want me to be pleased about that? your lack of intelligence is ludicrous. who knows how many times the bastard’s had a run-in with aether. it’s too soon to call check-mate, chief. it’s only just begun. and the only thing the lumiose gang has is a pawn out on the board. because of me ! ” up ahead, wingulls bicker. he takes their squawks as agreement.

chief’s probably holding the earpiece a good few inches away from his face, still able to hear another one of the temperamental gang leader’s infamous tantrums. in fact, his voice does sound further away now. “ o-of course, slater. our success depends solely on you . ”

is that sarcasm laden in chief’s voice? facetious bastard, faust thinks  – but, it’s too damned hot for faust to argue. faust sinks into his beach cot, nearly slipping through one of the slats. “ then again, i’ve always had an affinity for a challenge. but, what exactly am i getting myself into here ? ”

𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐫𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐬, 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐬 [𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝], 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐞 (𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐬, 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐫). 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐫𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐲 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦, 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐫𝐚 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐡. 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐚𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐬.

faust shoots up and lurches himself forward at the stroke of an epiphany. it’s all coming together now. faust’s chair wobbles, threatening to topple over. the thick book slips from his lap onto the sand, the green and gold-embellished cover facing upward.

“ chief, have you heard from looker recently ? ” as faust reaches down to retrieve the book, a shadow peers over him. the disquieting presence of the stranger keeps his hand at bay, his teeth in the inside of his lip. if they see the words on that cover, they’re gonna start asking a lot of questions; and he can try his damnedest to get out of it – oh! just doing some light reading! how fucking transparent! who just decides to pick up a monstrous novel titled “the study of ultra wormholes” for the hell of it? suspicious people, that’s who.

“ now that you mention it … not a thing. he seems to have ju — . ” faust taps his earpiece, abruptly disconnecting his conversation with the chief. he rests the sole of his black, leather shoe on the book’s cover. behind his sunglasses, he glowers at the stranger.

but, daiki bargained: give me a ren-tal and i’ll think about it. to his surprise, vanica sighed, exasperated and dramatic, over her shoulder to the impressionist painting hanging beside the spiral staircase. like the mimosa in her stemmed glass, she is flat; deflated from the never-ending hassle and the stress and the son she couldn’t keep hidden away. vanica waved her hand, as if to shoo daiki away, fine, daiki. it’s all yours, but only if you go see your sister. she’d be glad to know you’re . . . still alive. of course, it was a losing argument. and, of course, he’s going to complain the whole time.

as he nears the archway of nimbasa city, daiki scowls. “ home sweet fuck-ing home, i guess . ”  the bustling city isn’t daiki’s cup of tea — all the glimmering, neon lights and self-centered swarms of people. he feels out of place. “ what did i even used to do here ? ” nothing legal, that’s for sure. for the most part, daiki has grown out of his adolescent interests and the need for trouble. nimbasa city is full of distractions, he just needs to find the most captivating one.  he revs the engine once more and  —  “ c’mon you hunk of scrap-met-al ! ” daiki grumbles through his teeth, grunting with each failed resurgence of the bike’s engine  — it sputters and clicks.  “ shit. you gotta be fuck-ing kid-ding me . ” 

Hau’oli had the most traffic, between the Malasada shops and various clothing stores. She figured, if anything she could get some weather appropriate clothing, seeing as being in jeans seemed a little too confining. Some skirts and shorts would do, as her closet was full of tops that she hadn’t even touched. 

She made her way through the stores, really only buying two bags worth of clothing. To expect the same style range that Lumiose had, was just absurd. Being the fashion capital of the world, you really did have any selection to choose from. Assuming that it would be more expensive to import designer clothing, she made a note to do some online shopping. 

Stepping back out onto the main stretch, she stopped to see what direction the coffee shop was in. Off to her left, she waited at the crosswalk. From there it was a straight shot, which left little room for error. If she timed this, she could keep her profile low, and acquire the necessary fuel for the writing session that would take place later that evening. 

Briskly walking into the shop, she inhaled. The smell of coffee, woke her senses almost instantly. 

“Huh, they’re excited to see me Daiki. I wonder if my mom did this again, we were only gone a couple months,” Mei holds today’s newspaper close to her and her Serperior’s faces, reading the cover story as she sits down at a café in Floccesy Town, sitting on the outside deck while sipping her iced coffee. She knew something was telling her to keep her return a surprise from her mother, but she also realized how much her mother missed her and didn’t want to be kept in the dark.

Mei’s has been constantly traveling each region in order to get herself newer experiences and face different challenges. Yes, she may be the champion of Unova, but there are many more trials that she wants to face, which is why she decided to go to the Sinnoh and Kalos regions in order to fulfill her craving for battles. She valued meeting newer trainers and especially gaining strength with her bond between herself and Pokémon.