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The scientist should have adapted to the cold by now, yet even the newly installed hydronics within his thick coat do near nothing to combat the ferocious bite of the icy wind which engulfed this half of the mountain. He makes a mental note to visit the Virbank Complex on his way back to the docks, he’d heard a loud mouthed trainer brag about the Growlithe he’d caught there; and a large, warm ride pokémon may be just what he needs.
Introduced pokémon weren’t brand new to Unova, at least not anymore. The eerie yet familiar wail of a Froslass echoes up from the depths of the chasm, reminding him of the fact. When he’d worked under Team Plasma he hadn’t heard of the malicious ice type making its home even in regions bordering Unova, but the biodiversity seemed to bloom each time he visited. Ah, changing habitats, truly fascinating! The man's eyes scan the snow covered landscape, quickly catching on a splash of crimson red at the base of a thick berry tree. He frowns, furrowing his brow and continuing forward without a second glance.
The looming mountain descent proves even more challenging than the initial climb. Snow continues to fall hard and heavy, obscuring any small divots which if stepped upon, could well send even a lillipup pummeling into the stone chasm below. Klinklang had worked up a remarkable resistance to the cold after its years aiding its trainer with the development of the Kyurem cannon, the steel type pokémon has rightfully earned the honour of slowly escorting its trainer down the decline. Colress’ thick mamoswine skin boots rest atop the pokémon’s centre, his thick gloves grip it firmly. The blond haired man can sense his pokemon’s nervousness, he whispers comfort, inaudible for the screeching wind.
Frigid and coated in a thin layer of ice, Colress returns his Klinklang. The loyal pokémon’s gears stopped spinning only a few metres from their destination. Pokéball still gripped in hand, the determined scientist trudges through the last stretch of snow, one heavy step after the other. The wide opening of the cave stops the icy flakes from landing directly on his face, but the mammoth piles of snow continue well into the stone cavern. His mind calms as he feels his feet connect with solid ground. The snow grows shallower and shallower, until the sound underfoot finally begins to echo deep into the chasm.
He sighs loudly, almost collapsing forward, hands resting on his aching knees. Deep inhales of thin, frosty air tear at his lungs as he taps at the screen on his forearm, beginning the thawing process for his homemade hydronic system which he’d woven amongst the fibres of his coat. He curses under his breath as he ventures deeper into the cave. That could have ended badly.
Perhaps his time in Alola had made him weak to the glacial temperatures of the terrain surrounding Icirrus City. Regardless, his theoretically foolproof heating system had gotten dangerously close to trapping him amongst the snow, indistinguishable from the sculptures of high level Froslass. At least he had the sense to transfer his Rotom to its heat form, the small pokémon bursts from its pokéball, buzzing gently at Colress’ side.
The so-called ‘Giant Chasm’ is far from the most impressive Colress had ever visited. It extended further upward then it did in, unfortunately meaning it is commonly filled with snow. He makes a sharp left into a side tunnel, nodding approvingly to silently address the three sets of eyes he can feel burrowing into the crook of his neck. He holds immense respect for the Shadow Triad, but how they manage to remain completely unnoticed almost constantly, even when there is nothing to hide among, remains a mystery to Colress. There’s nothing Colress despises more than not knowing.
—
He was sleeping, which is far from surprising. Large pokémon, especially those who reside in extreme environments must preserve energy through sleep. For a brief second Colress thought the beast might actually be dead. This idea excited him beyond comprehension, finally having the opportuning to dissect a hybrid- no, a fusion! Especially one so horrifically unstable. A harsh, echoing exhale crushes his train of thought, and the large form which lay curled up in the far corner of the chamber stirs. Colress grunts and rolls his eyes. He rests his hand against the warm pokémon to his left and clears his throat.
“Ah it’s been too long, hasn’t it, my friend!” the blond chirps cheerfully, taking much more deliberate strides deeper into the cave. Ghetsis growls disapprovingly, staring toward the man with a cold, judging eye, his old bones aching as he moves slowly into a quadrupedal stance. His one remaining arm clenches the cold stone, helping him to his clawed feet. Colress hums and rolls his eyes again. Rude! Though, the greeting is no more than he’d expected. He’d only risked his life for the man of course. The former Plasma leader looked even more dishevelled than he had a month ago during Colress’ last visit. Even in the dimly lit cave his greying hair and thin, pasty skin is evident; his neck clearly struggling to hold his heavy, grey horns.
Colress swings his rucksack onto the floor and begins to rustle through it. Ghetsis was much more a listener than one to hold a conversation, something the average Unovan citizen would never guess. The older man watches silently as Colress unpacks a stash of hyper potions and sitrus berries, his razor sharp fangs clenched firmly.
“Oh come on now,” Colress smirks, snapping the safety cap off the first potion, “not even a hello? The storm is worse than usual out there, you know.” He fakes a look of disappointment and Ghetsis scrunches his nose.
“I’m unsure if you’ve noticed, but I am not exactly in the mood for conversation,” Ghetsis deadpans as his former coworker takes his hand and begins to coat it in hyper potion. Colress shrugs, watching the man’s eyes for a sign that his treatment was working. Sure enough, his right eye begins to glow a brighter yellow after only a few seconds, the potion working its magic. He releases his Klinklang, then opens an ice heal between his teeth and empties it, along with the remaining potion, over the frozen pokémon. As the medicine absorbs and the pokémon’s gears slowly begin to turn once again, Colress turns back to Ghetsis, who is already laying back down.
Colress didn’t speak, instead he continues to unpack. This was his fourth visit to the cave, yet still he finds himself overwhelmed by the sheer size of the creature before him. Kyurem was a big pokémon, it’s true, but he could have sworn it was nowhere near as tall as Ghetsis stood now, close to 9 feet tall. Colress bites his lip, is it wrong to refer to the creature just as the man it fused with? He knows Ghetsis would certainly think so... Ah, that reminds me! Colress quickly types onto the screen built into his sleeve.
The specimen’s consciousness seems to remain dominated by Ghetsis, though Kyurem shows itself through stance and sleep preservation behaviours. Its body temperature remains sub-zero, but absorption of the hyper potion occurred almost instantaneo-
“What are you writing down there?” Ghetsis growls, the sudden booming voice causes Colress to jump. His already deep voice dropped an octave or two with the transformation, a snarl seems to lie beneath every word.
“Oh nothing,” it’s better for everyone if Ghetsis doesn’t know he visits mostly just to satisfy his curiosity, though he’s pretty sure the man has his suspicions. Despite his past hubris, Ghetsis is far from daft. He shrugs and closes the file, bending to sit activates the inbuilt supports in his knees, locking him in place. Doing as much observation close to the ground as Colress does is bad for your joints, so why not reinforce them? “Maybe I’d share it with someone who thinks to say.. Oh I don’t know, ‘thanks for bringing me the supplies I need to survive,’ or something,” he laughs, raising an eyebrow.
Ghetsis exhales sharply through his nose, “you know I’m thankful, why state it?” The young man rolls his eyes and shakes his head, memories of the first time he’d come across his former employer in this form flood his mind. Weakened and desperate, Colress calculated Ghetsis’ odds of survival at below 40%. Yet, the stubborn old bastard persisted, as he always does. With these memories on his mind, Colress smirks. He knows better than to remind Ghetsis of his teary eyed pleading he’d been met with on his first visit to the cave. He doubts that kind of guilt tripping would work on the self centred man anyway.
“Yeah, I guess you did make it fairly clear, though it’s always appreciated,” Klinklang whirrs behind him, and Colress smiles, voicing his appreciation for the hardy pokémon before returning it to its pokéball.
Ghetsis watches silently; he hasn’t talked to another- well, a human since Colress left a whole month ago. Of course he had the triad, but even they couldn’t survive spending too much time in close proximity to him. He feels a deep cold radiating from his chest. Ignoring the implications, the older man pretends its cause must be entirely Kyurem’s icy blood which pumps through his veins.
“Well, is that it?” Ghetsis stands, stretching his aching limbs. Colress had amputated his right arm on his second visit, though that didn’t stop it aching even worse than it did even before he became… this. He almost wishes it was still there just so he could scratch it.
“Huh, your hair came undone,” Colress remarks, ignoring the man’s question. He looks around the cave, hand on his chin animatedly. He knows his antics annoy his prior superior, and there’s not much more entertaining than pissing Ghetsis right off. The gold band which Ghetsis had woven to hold up his ponyta-tail was stacked amongst a pile of bones and used potion bottles in the far corner of the cavern.
“I’m aware,” the green haired man replies with an unimpressed scowl. His hair had grown, now long enough to tickle his ankles. “I already look hideous, I don’t see any point in that.”
Colress raises an eyebrow, that statement was definitely unexpected. But when he stops to think, it does make logical sense. The phenomenon of pokémon/human fusion was an exciting, interesting phenomenon for him to investigate, and just now he realised he hadn’t stopped to consider how Ghetsis may be feeling. Colress is not an arrogant man, he’s quick to acknowledge his shortcomings, but low empathy was something that had only ever helped in his research. Ethics set a bar that science could never cross, stating some things must remain unknown for the sake of people and pokemons feelings. However, Colress has always been quick to disagree. His peers always criticised his views, but could any of them have created the Colress machine, or the Kyurem canon? Yet, for the first time since he was a teenager, he felt just a little bit heartless.
Colress walks over to the pile, feeling Ghetsis’ gaze on his back. He unearths the band and rubs it against his coat. He could feel the frozen metal prick his fingertips, thank Arceus for insulated gloves. “I can put it back up if you want.”
Ghetsis actually laughs, the tips of his large canines peeking through his lips. “What, do you pity me?”
Colress shrugs, “perhaps. Or maybe I’m trying to be nice.” He approaches the man and gestures for him to turn around. “Sit, it won’t take long.”
Ghetsis scowls at the scientist. He hates this. Hates being treated like he’s weak. Ever since Colress had discovered him, he could tell by the way the scientist observed him that in his eyes, he was nothing but an experiment to him. A lost, pitiful case at worst. For Arceus’ sake, he could freeze the pathetic man before him in a heartbeat. Shatter his body, not even to eat, but to discard, emphasising that he’s worth less than pokemon food. Not to mention, it’s beyond foolish to turn your back to an enemy. Yet, he finds himself leaning against the cold stone to aid him to the floor, flicking his hair so as not to sit on it. He sits in silence for a few seconds. “Well, go on then.”
As Colress grasps a handful of the greying locs, the first thing he notices is the lack of shine which they had once held. He remembers a lecturer in college had once asked Ghetsis how he cared for it. Colress laughs at the thought, causing the man before him to flick his vision quickly over his shoulder.
“What’s so funny?” Ghetsis barks, baring his teeth like a rabid pokémon.
“Nothing, nothing, just remembered a joke,” Colress smiles. As always, the man’s short temper is hilarious to him. He wraps the band around one wrist, using both hands to gather as much of the man’s hair as he can. It’s brittle and knotted, but he doesn’t exactly bring giant hairbrushes on his expeditions, so this will have to do.
Ghetsis smells awful, and being this close doesn’t help. There’s no running water this far up, and the man looked at Colress as if he’d just strangled a newly hatched minccino when he reminded him how most pokémon cleaned themselves. He couldn’t have bathed for almost 6 months, which even by Colress’ standards is pretty gross. Why the triad doesn’t just sponge bath him is yet another mystery. He holds his breath before beginning to pull the man’s hair through the thick golden band. Ghetsis grumbles something quiet enough that even the echoes of the cave leave it incomprehensible. Colress notices him tapping his claw against the stone impatiently.
“I don’t have to do this you know,” he continues to pull Ghetsis’ hair around the band, folding it in a way which secures the gold ring firmly without knotting his hair any further. His braiding ability is not something he’s commonly applauded on, though he’s always happy to show it off. Ghetsis huffs again, not bothering to respond to Colress’ remark. A few more minutes of awkward silence and Colress steps back, Ghetsis’ hair now tied in a surprisingly complex braid. Colress flexes his fingers, standing that close to Ghetsis for so long could be detrimental to his health… Though he felt like he owed the man. He’s provided him with a research opportunity like nothing he’d ever imagined, this was the lease he could do. Well, except risk his life to bring him food and other supplies monthly. Okay, maybe Colress didn’t owe that selfish, cruel shell of a man anything, but yet, a seed of guilt had managed to germinate in his famously empty heart.
With Ghetsis’ hair now pulled back, Colress notices the thickening stubble along Ghetsis’ jaw. He hums, then taps the touchscreen on his coat, causing a razor to materialise itself in his hand. Once again, when one spends so much time in the field, you learn to take advantage of tele-pad technology. He gently grips the sharp spine which protrudes from the man’s jaw and tilts his head slightly to the side. Ghetsis surprisingly obliges with only a quiet huff. Even when the razor is pressed against his skin he doesn’t flinch. Colress gently guides the cold metal over the age lines on the larger man’s face, gently shaving the short hairs from his jaw, then top lip. The man’s breath is like ice on his fingers, but he just grits his teeth.
—
Just as Colress returns the blade, his Rotom chirps, nuzzling against his gloves. Its warmth is barely noticeable through them, but he appreciates it nonetheless. It’s getting even darker, the light from the mouth of the cave dimming with alarming speed. Even if he left now, there was no chance of returning to civilization before nightfall. He bites his lip, resting his chin on his fist, when Ghetsis’ voice catches him off guard.
“Thank you.”
“Huh?” Colress turns away from his rucksack to find the large man holding his braid in his hand, a sharp talon following the intricate patterns Colress had woven within it. His eyes are glued to the opposite wall, his entire body still turned completely away from Colress.
“You heard me.”
Colress blinks a few times, “well, uh, you’re welcome, my friend.”
—
Colress repacks his bag in silence, the sound of Ghetsis’ heavy breaths mixing with the slowly calming storm outside. He places the potions on a makeshift shelf he’d forged on a previous visit, and the small selection of berries in a pile below it. He releases his Metagross and straps the heavy rucksack onto its back. With the snowstorm dying down it should be able to keep up with him.
“Welp! The potions are on the shelf, berries are there. I trust you’re hunting fine?” Colress gestures to the supplies and Ghetsis shrugs, gesturing toward the side cave where the Triad now reside, an unreadable expression on his face. The blond waits for further action, but after an uncomfortable 30 seconds he shrugs and turns to leave. “Till next month, then.”
—
The trip back isn’t nearly half as bad. He even spots a wild Zorua, something he’d never seen in all the time he spent in Unova. Even as he places his bag down upon his bed back in Alola, he can’t help thinking about next month’s expedition.