Chapter Text
With a weary huff, Rika settled against the Academy exterior. Her eyes flickered up to meet the rising sun, streaks of pink and orange painting the skyline as a grand, shining ball of light reared its shimmering head to mark the beginning of another Paldean day. By crude estimation alone, she figured it had to be sometime around six o’clock in the morning. She’d check her Rotom Phone, but Clodsire’d unplugged it while rolling around in his sleep.
Whatever. It didn’t matter. She was early. More importantly, she was early enough to catch the others. Normally, this was the time she’d be just waking up, but she’d been called to the Academy by La Primera herself and was expected to meet Professor Clavell in his office by six-thirty sharp. This was, of course, per last night’s email that had been addressed to all members of the Elite Four.
She didn’t blame La Primera for the time crunch. An hour as early as this was practically the only time you could catch Professor Clavell in a spare moment. Thankfully, Rika was the resilient type, especially so thanks to her own fluctuating schedule. Juggling both field work and in-office duties, Rika was far too used to working at all odd hours of the day… and night.
The email was curt, of course, as La Primera likely hadn’t the time to elaborate, but it was firm in the arrival time, likely out of respect for Professor Clavell’s own schedule. Any non-Paldean would wonder why La Primera held such deference for Clavell’s timetable, yet flaunted such blatant disregard for Rika’s. This is because only a non-Paldean would fail to understand how La Primera views respect. The harder she challenged you, the further she pushed you, the higher her expectations, the more she revered you. Rika knew that she and the rest of her colleagues had been called upon at what was otherwise quite inconvenient timing because La Primera knew she could count on them to arrive, regardless of their own personal happenings.
Though, Larry may disagree with this assessment.
So although Rika did not mind being asked to loiter, she remained frustratingly curious as to what she was loitering for. Typically when Rika loitered, she had at least a vague idea as to why and, also typically, it was for very good reason. Oh well. There wasn’t much point in straining what little energy she had left any thinner. She was tired enough as is, thanks to the late notice of that dastardly aforementioned email. She huffed again, running one gloved hand through her sea-green hair, the other loosely slipping into her pant pocket. She scanned her surroundings for a moment, noting the empty entrance yard which lay barren of all life, save for Rika and some greenery.
Classes didn’t start for another few hours now and most students lived either in Mesagoza or in the Academy itself. This meant, unlike Rika, they could afford to sleep in a little while longer since their classes were practically right around the corner. For a non-student, Ground-Type specialist like her, however, she actually had to get up early and wait for a Flying Taxi to arrive instead of just throwing out any old bird Pokémon and hitching a ride.
She had to wonder if that was how Larry got around. Hm, though it seemed a little too interesting a method for him. Then again, it was normal for Flying-Type trainers to travel that way. Frankly, it’d be weird for him not to, and Larry was anything but weird. Weirdly normal, perhaps. Abnormally unweird, even. But not simply weird on its own.
She clicked her tongue. Just thinking about Larry was starting to make her bored, which was strange considering she’d never found his monotonous aura particularly contagious. However, she’d heard through office gossip that most others felt that way. She couldn’t blame them, as she supposed it would be quite hard to keep your spirits high with Larry’s black hole of boredom sucking the life out of all surrounding air.
She sighed to herself, raising the back of her bare wrist up to her eyes, using her other hand to peel back the sleeve. Her head lulled to the side, gaze rolling over to the tall set of skinny double doors guarding the Academy’s entrance hall. She’d had a feeling she’d arrive early enough to have to wait, but even her standard buffet of patience was beginning to be picked clean.
Just as she had begun to wonder if her unusually short fuse was a result of last night’s subpar sleep, a familiar, blocky shadow loomed over the walkway. With a click of gentle wing-tipped shoes, a suit-clad man with slicked back hair settled his grip onto one of the door handles. He paused for a moment, the corner of his eye filled by a turquoise blotch. Slowly, he glanced at her, then turned his head to address Rika properly.
“Good morning,” Larry said, face plastered with an expression so deadpan you’d ought to call the local morgue just to see if a cadaver had gone missing.
Rika, despite her drowsy state, was polite enough to forcefully twitch the corners of her mouth into a lazy smile.
“Mornin’, Larry,” she replied, eyes rolling back to inspect her wrist.
His eyes lingered on her for a second, then, slowly, followed her gaze back to the barren skin of her arm. He stood there for a moment, simply observing, as if needing a second to soak up the sight before letting his eyes trail back up to hers.
“…You don’t have a watch,” he stated, simply, as if this was helpful.
As she caught Larry’s stare, Rika’s weary smile gained just a slight curve of earnestness. She lowered her wrist back down, the hand it was attached to tucking itself neatly in her pocket.
“Mm, I don’t,” she hummed back, head settling against the brick as her eyes sank shut. “But I like to think pretending I do will help pass the time.”
Larry stared straight through her, eyes as stiff as pillars, gaze stoic and unwavering as he assessed her expression. Slowly, he glanced around him, as if in search of a helpful, Arceus-sent stranger that could contribute their opinion in place of his own. Unfortunately for him, the entrance yard was empty, the day still far too young to call upon the spry youth typically found roaming Academy quarters. He turned his gaze back to her, finally accepting the fact that he was socially obligated to answer.
…Actually, no he wasn’t.
So he gave a small nod of acknowledgement before clicking open the Academy doors.
He’d expected Rika to fall into step behind him, so of course he held the door, but when all that followed was the brief, cold gust of morning wind gently sweeping by his feet, he couldn’t help but take a small step outside, just to check on her. Her eyes were still closed, though her arms were now folded. He’d’ve sworn she’d dozed off if it weren’t for the subtle twitching of her eyebrows. He wasn’t sure why she was staying, nor did he really care, but the meeting couldn’t start without her, so it was in everyone’s best interest that he not leave her behind.
“…We should get going…” he muttered, then clearing his throat and adjusting his tie.
One of Rika’s eyes fluttered open to stare at him. She raised a brow, curious, yet sceptical.
“…to the meeting,” Larry added awkwardly.
This seemed to have caught Rika’s attention because she shuffled over on her side to lean against her shoulder.
“Don’t you think we should wait for the others?” she asked, though it was really more of a statement than it was a question.
Larry stared at her for a moment. Then, his eyes climbed up the Academy walls, landing on one set of particular windows shielded by grand, velvet curtains. He assessed it for a minute, then turned back to her, expression still faithfully dedicated to its typical deadpan routine.
“…They’re already inside,” he stated, turning back to the Academy’s entrance.
“How’d’ya know that?” she asked, nudging herself off the wall to follow Larry inside.
He stopped briefly, glancing over his shoulder at her.
“…Hassel grades his papers every Monday,” he said curtly before resuming his pace.
“Huh,” she hummed, sauntering past the door Larry still so diligently held open for her. It made sense, she supposed. If Hassel knew he was already going to be clocking in early that day anyways, it was safe to assume that he’d enough basic foresight to bring Poppy along in preparation.
Her eyes explored the grand entrance hall. Morning sun peeked shyly over the windowsills, licking the towering bookshelves with soft, warm honey colors. Rows and rows of antique books lined the shelves, cuddling each aisle with a snug, welcoming press of leather.
Rika remained unimpressed.
It wasn’t that she disliked the entrance hall. In fact, she’d felt La Primera had done a fine job on it. It was certainly an upgrade from the last dreary design. Nevertheless, she’d already seen it a couple dozen times by now and, frankly, the fresh coat of paint provided by the shimmering sunlight was not enough to renew its spark for her. It just wasn’t the kind of view she cared for.
A subtle click let Rika know that Larry had closed the door, so she carried onwards. Larry let her shadow lead, falling into place like a devoted Ducklett dutifully trailing his mother Swanna. He’d rather be in the background, anyways, though his towering stature could make him a little difficult to miss. Though, they didn’t call him the Exceptional Everyman for just any old reason. No matter his size, nor his state of dress, Larry always made use of his absolutely marvellous, logic-defying talent of being noticed by absolutely nobody at all.
The Academy’s receptionist — A stout, older lady with a white pixie cut — happily typed away at her computer, adjusting the glasses that slid against the bridge of her nose. When Rika approached, having settled one elbow against the desk to give herself a place to lean, the woman’s attention was immediately captured and her eyes lit up like stars upon meeting face to face with the Elite Four’s self-proclaimed beauty.
“Ah, Miss Rika!” the jolly woman chirped, “I was informed that Professor Clavell was to be expecting you! Please, go right ahead as I write your name down in our visitor’s log.” Though she’d been enthralled by Rika’s status, she hadn’t seemed to notice Rika’s stiff, awkward equal standing static behind her.
“Thanks. Any way I can squeeze in a plus one?” Her eyes flickered over to Larry, her gaze forcing him to avert his own. He scratched the back of his neck absentmindedly, glancing off into the distance, pretending to be focused on something other than this.
For a moment, the receptionist’s eyes lingered on Rika before tracing her stare over to Larry, whom she appeared surprised by the presence of.
“Oh!” the receptionist continued, a little more flustered this time. “Gym Leader Larry! You were also to be expected. Please, feel free to use the elevator whilst I write both of your names down in our log book.”
Rika gave a heavy nod and slid from the desk, offering the receptionist a simple wave goodbye before turning on her heel and heading towards the winding wooden stairs that led to the elevator.
“Thanks again,” she shot back kindly, to which the older woman fawned.
As Larry slowly picked up the pace, his eyes couldn’t help but be drawn to the receptionist and the star-struck, wistful gaze plastered across her face. Sure, Rika was somewhat of a Paldean celebrity, but most staff members at the Academy worked closely enough with the League to have gotten used to the stunning aura of the Elite Four…
…Stunning aura, plus Larry.
He hummed to himself, brushing her off as a simple super-fan before steadily catching back up to Rika.
The elevator was tall, wooden, and extravagant, much like the rest of the entrance hall. It was retro, old-timey, the frame adorned with swirls and spirals carved into aging oak. Instead of a screen with numbers plastered above heavy metal doors, a simple, yellowing rolodex of numbers ticked patiently through its catalog of floors.
The ride up was awkward, of course, but apparently neither party noticed. Rika was comfortable in the silence while Larry just revered it. Rika’s eyes were pinned to the ascending numbers slowly ticking up, up, up over their heads. Larry only stared straight, neck slightly craned due to decades worth of poor postural habits.
“Email didn’t say what the meeting was for,” Rika began, gaze lulling Larry’s way. “Any guesses on what it could be about?”
Larry closed his eyes and tilted his head back, giving a thoughtful hum as his mind flickered through the options.
“…More work,” he said bluntly, shoulders tensing at the thought.
Rika huffed out a chuckle as the elevator slowed to a halt. The doors slid open with the ding of an analog bell. Larry looked to Rika for guidance, but she only flicked her wrist to motion ahead. He hesitated for a moment, then exited the elevator, waiting for her patiently like a loyal little Greavyard.
His eyes remained avoidant, the grip around the handle of his briefcase ever so slightly tightening. He mulled over what he could say to break the silence. Though he personally was not bothered by it, it would still be polite to say something. After all, he did try to keep a habit of maintaining succinct, somewhat friendly, professional exchanges amongst his coworkers
“…I think Hassel and Poppy are already waiting with Professor Clavell,” he stated bluntly, gaze flipping to meet the grand pair of double doors at the end of the hall.
“Probably,” Rika agreed, lazily reaching over her shoulder to scratch at her back. “Guess we shouldn’t keep them waiting, then.”
He eyed her, then nodded, dangling close behind her like a little keychain hanging off a bag as they made their way down the long, carpeted hall. The walls were papered with a light yellow, floral design adorned with thin streaks of brown that wove into elegant, fruity patterns. The baseboards were dark and heavy, weighty wood carved with intricate details skirting that skirted the walls. It was incredibly traditional, though the featured paintings were a little more art-deco than Larry had expected.
He looked ahead to Rika, wondering if she’d noticed the same. If she had, she didn’t seem to care, or perhaps she’d just gotten used to it. Larry himself was typically confined to one office or another, be it Mesagoza’s or Medali’s, but Rika was often assigned to watch over some of the Academy’s potential up-and-comers. Only now did he realise that she’d likely already met this hall countless times and, while Larry was no stranger to it, the few times he had visited had been promptly clouded by thoughts of work.
As they approached the doors to Professor Clavell’s office, Larry had to wonder if Geeta really would make an appearance this time. She’d said as much, but, frankly, La Primera was known for her… surprising schedule. This was especially
obvious to the Elite Four members, whose own schedules would often wax and wane to accommodate Geeta’s. Larry didn’t mind too much. He stuck to a typical nine-to-five, the actual content of his daily tasks typically being what changed rather than his actual hours. He supposed he was grateful for that. Somewhat.
When they stopped in front of Clavell’s doors, Larry noticed that Rika was now once again checking her imaginary watch, because apparently it had fallen out of sync and she needed to rewind it. The things people did to stave off boredom… Luckily, or perhaps unluckily in this situation, he was rather comfortable being cuddled by boredom, though this now meant he was responsible for the door. So be eyed it, huffed ever so lightly through his nose, because doing so any louder would be rude, and raised his knuckles to the wood to give it a light knock.
Knock… Knock… Knock…
…
Nothing.
Rika peered at him from over her wrist and cocked a brow.
“You’re gonna have to go a little harder than that, Larry,” she snickered, a reaction which only seemed to amplify what few traces of disappointment Larry was capable of showing.
He looked back to the door, like a defeated little Hondour, held his breath, and raised his fist. Three faint knocks rapped against the wood.
Knock. Knock… Knock…?
Somehow that last one sounded questioning.
They were a little louder this time, she’d give him that, but evidently not loud enough. Larry turned to Rika for guidance, like a weary Pokémon on its last hit point desperately waiting for instruction.
She shook her head in amusement and took one step forward, knuckles beating with firm, stoic knocks against the doors.
Knock, Knock, Knock.
Yeah, that’ll get their attention.
Instantly, a muffled voice from behind chimed up.
“Come in!” Professor Clavell called out, so Rika took it upon herself to open the door. She held it for Larry, just as he’d done for her in the entrance hall. He gave a small, singular nod as brief thanks and took the handle from her grasp so that he could be the one to shut it. Rika understood his instinctive need to default to mundane politeness, so she released the handle, just to indulge.
…Well, she didn’t understand his instinct, per say, but she knew he had it, which counted for something. Maybe.
From behind his desk, Clavell rose to attention, hands clasped neatly behind his back as he offered his latest guests a weary, yet warm smile. Hassel stood nearby with his own hands on his hips, face lighting up at the sight of his coworkers. Meanwhile, Poppy’s fingers ran through the hem of her grandfather’s coat.
“Good morning, Rika, Larry,” the professor greeted before smoothing out a few of the papers on his desk.
“Morning, professor,” Rika replied before turning her attention over to Hassel and Poppy. “Morning, you two.”
“Good morning to you as well, Rika and Larry!” Hassel hummed back pleasantly. Poppy’s fingers slipped from his coat so that she could hold them down politely in front of her.
“Good morning, Miss Rika,” Poppy chimed before turning to Larry. “Good morning, Mister Larry.”
Larry muttered back a humble greeting, something Poppy knew to take in stride.
“So,” Rika began, ready to get down to business, “What’s this meeting all about?”
“We’ll have to wait to find out once La Primera arrives,” Hassel added.
Clavell glanced off to the side nervously.
“Yes, well,” Clavell continued, raising a fist to his mouth and clearing his throat. “It appears Miss Geeta will not be making an appearance after all.”
If Larry could experience the human emotion known as “relief”, he’d have sighed with it.
“However,” the professor resumed, because there always had to be a catch, “She is able to attend the meeting via video call.”
A Rotom Phone slipped from the desk to hover beside the professor. The screen flickered to life, displaying an incoming call that was automatically answered. Geeta’s face soon appeared. She smiled, eyes scanning the screen of her own Rotom Phone to make sure everyone was to be accounted for.
“Hello, everyone,” Geeta began, calm and collected. “I appreciate your early attendance. I’m aware that this meeting was called upon quite suddenly.”
“Not a problem at all, La Primera!” Hassel rushed to reassure her, hands squeezed together in an elated anticipation.
“Yeah, we know how packed your schedule can be,” Rika added.
Larry only hummed, though not necessarily in agreement.
“What’s this meeting about, La Primera?” Poppy asked, her little voice causing the Rotom Phone to tilt down to better capture her in its camera.
“I’m glad that you asked,” Geeta continued, eyes creasing from a warm smile. “As some of you may have already heard, a few of the Gym Leaders have submitted several requests for PTO.” The screen shifted a little over to Larry, who rubbed at the back of his neck with an avoidant gaze.
“That’s ‘Personal Time Off’,” Hassel whispered, peering down at a Poppy.
“At first, all of these requests were denied. After all, countless trainers — Especially ones from the Academy — are working their absolute hardest each and every day to one day have the chance to go up against Paldea’s Elite Four. If Gym Leaders were allowed to take vacations whenever they so pleased, it would be incredibly difficult for travelling trainers to keep track of which Gyms were currently available and when they would next be open.”
“And that isn’t to mention the backlog of well-prepared trainers Gym Leaders would have to face upon their return,” Professor Clavell added.
Rika settled a finger to her chin and thoughtfully nodded. Throughout her career within the League, she hadn’t actually considered taking much PTO. After all, being an Elite Four member already provided her with an appropriate, yet complex serving of work-life balance. She had to grind hard to maintain both her team and her position as interviewer-slash-receptionist. However, there also weren't very many trainers for her to face. This meant that a considerable portion of her shifts were spent doing things like fieldwork. Y’know, scouting for fresh young talent, delivering messages, sharpening the Gym Leader’s skills with a quick Pokémon battle, that kinda stuff, all of which was fun enough to keep her entertained.
“Yeah, that makes sense,” she said, hands framing her suspenders. “Can’t imagine it’d be very fun travelling all the way to the other side of Paldea only to find out the Gym Leader you wanted to face was out on vacation.”
“Indeed,” Geeta continued, “But after some careful consideration, I believe I have reached a compromise that can keep everyone — And, more importantly, Paldea’s trainers — satisfied.”
Hassel, Rika, and Poppy all exchanged sidelong glances. It wasn’t that they were suspicious of Geeta’s proposal. No, when it came to her, doubt cleared from their minds as quickly as Smokescreen. If La Primera said she had found a way, then by Arceus you’d best believe it.
In spite of this, however, lingered humble curiosity. The mere suggestion, the mere idea of PTO, seemed too good to be true, and while they were one hundred percent certain that it was true, since La Primera had said as much, they couldn’t help but wonder what lied beyond her promise. If it sounded too good to be true, yet was true, the only conclusion that could be drawn was that it must not be that good.
La Primera didn’t call them into Professor Clavell’s office just to announce that they’d earned a vacation. There had to be something else; A catch, a gimmick, a condition that grounded their idea to something more realistic.
“What sort of compromise?” Hassel couldn’t help but inquire, breaking the silence. This was much to the relief of Poppy, who’d seemed to have been holding her breath. Rika remained largely unbothered, though thoroughly interested, nonetheless. As for Larry, he seemed more disappointed that Hassel had resumed the conversation, if anything.
Geeta’s eyes narrowed from the coy smile that slithered like a Seviper across her face. She had an intimidating gaze, that was to be sure, but beyond the looming shadow of a firm hand — A hand prepared to strike with stern benevolence — Geeta remained kind. Frightening, yet kind, nevertheless.
“I believe that the only way to keep all Gym Leaders and Elite Four members adhering to the same schedule is to allow for an all-expenses-paid vacation to a faraway island.”
Professor Clavell watched with a satisfied smile as Hassel’s jaw practically fell to the floor with a thunderous clap. Poppy’s own mouth held agape for a small second before a grin soon spread across her face. She bounced on her heels, clapping her hands together in delight. Rika’s eyelids lifted a little, and while she did smile, she remained mostly calm. She turned her gaze to Larry to get his assessment on the situation. Though he wore the same expression he always did, his eyes were now eerily still, glued to the phone screen in what Rika could only assume was a sudden devout interest.
“…How,” Larry began, his monotonous voice revealing not a shred of enthusiasm. Based on the way he spoke, you’d’ve assumed Geeta had just asked him to clock in early next Monday. “…did you manage this?”
Geeta closed her eyes and hummed to herself, contemplating whether or not she ought to reveal her methods. Once concluding that there could be no harm in doing so, she chose to show her hand.
“Recently, a young royal from a distant region has taken it upon himself to construct his very own hand-made island. The island, of course, is not large enough to be considered its own region, therefore it is not eligible to have a branch in the Pokémon League.”
Poppy tilted her head slightly like a curious Houndour.
“But Alola’s an island,” she stated, confused. “How come it gets to be a region?”
“Alola’s a collection of islands,” Hassel clarified. “So all those islands put together are enough to make it a region.”
“Ooh,” Poppy awed, a little embarrassed.
“The island is called Pasio,” Clavell continued, “and it is home to a unique series of rocks that grant Pokémon special abilities, similar to that of Alola’s Z-Crystals.” He gave Poppy a small nod of acknowledgement.
Geeta picked up.
“The founder of Pasio, Prince Lear, is in dire need of visitors for his island. He will be holding a contest that all trainers from far and wide are welcome to compete in. To encourage more visitors, and thereby potential competitors, to visit the island, Lear is looking for names renowned throughout different regions in hopes that the popularity of his guests may attract even more.”
Larry’s eyes averted. He gingerly raised his hand to scratch at the back of his neck where his suit scraped his skin.
“…Will we have to participate…?” he hesitantly asked. If Larry was going to go on vacation, the last thing he wanted was to be assigned a mandatory checklist.
For the other three Elite Four, the thought of compulsory competing hadn’t even crossed their minds. Frankly, it wasn’t a concern of theirs. They loved Pokémon battling and were likely going to be doing it in their free time, regardless. It didn’t matter to them whether or not it was required.
Larry, on the other hand, battled largely because he needed to. It was how he made a living, after all, and if Geeta planned on separating him from his ideal work environment, he didn’t want to be given work on top of it.
Geeta simply smiled. She’d expected this response from Larry. Luckily for him, she had good news.
“While none of you are required to participate, Lear believes that your mere presence as some of Paldea’s top trainers may draw more attention to his competition. As such, he has graciously offered to pay for the stay of all eleven members of Paldea’s Pokémon League.”
“Eleven,” Rika repeated in lue of questioning. She ran through the numbers in her head. Most regions had twelve League members, those being the eight Gym Leaders and four Elite Four. Paldea, however, had eleven due to Larry’s dual-role. Despite this, however, Rika had simply assumed… “You won’t be coming with us?”
Hassel’s eyes flicked to the screen. Poppy held her breath again. Larry, mentally, crossed his fingers.
Geeta’s smile remained still, eyes narrowing with a firm, confident gaze.
“I’m afraid I have my hands full as it is,” she finally said, shaking her head. “With all of my best employees on vacation, I imagine there will be quite the heavy load of additional duties added to my plate.”
“Aw, c’mon, Geeta. Ya can’t spare yourself a month?” Rika huffed.
Geeta did laugh, though still shook her head in reply.
“While I appreciate your concern, I’m afraid I simply cannot.” She paused, closing her eyes to think something over. “…We’ll see.”
To this, Rika smiled, finally satisfied.
“However,” Geeta continued, interrupting Rika’s momentary felicity, “there is still the matter of Paldea’s potential Champions that we must tend to.” The Rotom Phone tilted to better face Professor Clavell.
“La Primera and I have discussed it between ourselves and have concluded that the best course of action would be for the League to host a large-scale event in conjunction with the Academy.”
“Like the Academy Ace Tournament?” Poppy hummed.
“Similarly, yes,” Clavell nodded. “However, instead of students competing against one another, trainers all across Paldea, regardless of whether or not they attend the Academy, will be granted the opportunity to go head to head with Gym Leaders of their choosing.”
Larry stiffened a little at this, though nobody seemed to notice. Really, this only meant more work for him. At least the Gym Challenge would act as a barrier between him and potential challengers.
“During this event, and this event alone, completion of the respective Gym Challenges will not be required.”
Larry huffed lightly through his nose, though it was barely audible. His eyes fell shut and his mind began to flip through all the training he would need to be doing in his down time just to prepare for this event. He couldn’t just go easy on the trainers, after all. As appealing as laziness seemed right now, La Primera had a keen enough eye to notice if he was slacking, and she didn’t take very kindly to her Gym Leaders going easy.
“Each trainer will be offered one chance and one chance alone to face each Gym Leader. If they fail to defeat one, they may continue to the next, though they shall not be rewarded with a badge.”
“From there,” Geeta continued, “any trainer with all eight badges may skip the interviewing process—” Larry couldn’t help but notice Rika’s grin, “—and head straight to challenging the Elite Four. You will face these challengers in your standard order. However, unlike with the Gym Leaders, challengers will only have one chance to defeat all of you as a group. If they lose to one, they cannot continue.”
“This process helps keep the waiting lines slimmer,” Clavell added, “by making sure that no challenger may face the same League Member twice in one day.”
Hassel’s face practically brimmed with sunshine. If he smiled any wider, Larry felt the gleam of his perfectly white teeth just very well may blind him.
“Well, I for one think this is an excellent idea!” Hassel beamed, his head instinctively finding Poppy’s shoulder to give it an excited little shake.
“And we’ll be gettin’ good battles and a good vacation outta it, too,” Rika replied, cracking her knuckles before stretching them over her head.
“…” Larry didn’t say much at all, though not necessarily because he was displeased. Though he’d known there’d been a catch, the vacation time certainly did sound nice. He wasn’t looking forward to acting as both Gym Leader Larry and Elite Four member Larry simultaneously… multiple times… within the same day… but work was work, and it was what he got paid to do. At least with the vacation he had something mildly interesting to look forward to. Maybe Pasio had some unique new places to eat…
“So, what day’s the event?” Rika piped up, her nonchalant attitude a veil to the secret sector of eagerness building within her chest.
“Well,” Geeta began, shaking a small lock of hair from off her shoulder, “It would take a myriad of planning and financial consultance,”
Larry, the financial consultant, sighed to himself.
“But we believe we will be able to pull this off by next week. We can hold the event on Friday, giving both Gym Leaders and Elite Four members time over the weekend for them to pack their bags. Then, Lear will schedule a cruise ship to stop by Paldea on the way to Pasio to pick you all up. He’s already convinced other renowned trainers from other regions to participate, so you may recognise some familiar, or perhaps even famous, faces while aboard.”
Rika, Hassel, and Poppy all exchanged a mix of darting glances, grins wide and palpable, advertising their teeth with proud, excited smiles.
“May I ask about the accommodations?” Hassel hummed, already imagining the kinds of rooms they’d be staying in while sailing across the seas.
“You will be provided with appropriate housing both on the ship and once you reach Pasio. Since it is an all-expenses-paid vacation, food will be provided free of charge three times a day. However, anything beyond that would come out of your own personal spending money. I strongly encourage you to set aside a budget of your own, just in case you’d like to spend some money on souvenirs, clothes…” The Rotom Phone panned towards Larry. “…food.”
He glanced to the side, finger lightly tugging at his collar to release some of the heat.
“If you do choose to participate in the competition, however,” Geeta continued, the screen tilting back to face the rest of Elite, “Everything involved in that shall be paid for. As such, I urge you all to keep your receipts so that any and all relevant expenses can be reviewed and, if eligible, paid for by Prince Lear.”
“Sounds fair,” Rika hummed with a curt nod. “And Pokémon?”
“Ah,” Clavell began, his own interest piqued, “I’m glad that you asked, Miss Rika. You see, Pasio has a unique way of handling Pokémon battles. While you are able to bring multiple Pokémon, I advise that you only bring between one to three, as each individual trainer is only permitted to use one at a time. This means that you will be unable to battle with your standard team of six. Instead, you are encouraged to team up with other trainers to increase your numbers in battle.”
“An encouragement of cooperation and mutual strength between teammates,” Hassel hummed, raising a finger to his chin in thought.
“Indeed. After all, this format of battling is instilled to enhance the unique power drawn from the stones on Pasio’s island. You see—”
“—While Professor Clavell could stand here and explain it all to you now,” Geeta interrupted, causing Clavell to clear his throat and adjust his tie apologetically, “It would be better for you all to spend your energy preparing for next week’s event.”
“Yeah!” Poppy chirped, hands balling into fists as her feet bounced in excitement. “I need to go train my team to prepare for all the new challengers!”
“An’ we’ll need to figure out what Pokèmon we wanna bring to the island,” Rika added
“Oh, it feels so unfair to part with any of them!” Hassel whined, apparently still having enough energy at his ripe old age to keep up the dramatics. How he hadn’t already croaked from emotional exhaustion was beyond anyone’s guess. “Those who do not go will feel so disappointed. I’m not sure I have the heart to do such a thing!”
“Hass,” Rika cut through, unimpressed, yet admittedly a little amused, “you’ve got way more than six Pokèmon, anyways. You’d’ve never been able to bring all of them, even without the one-Pokèmon battle limit.”
Hassel huffed, then drearily wiped the sweat from his brow.
“I suppose that’s true…”
“Will that be all?” Geeta cut through, not looking to extend this conversation any further. She was a busy woman, after all. If they wanted to talk more, they could do it amongst themselves when she’s not there. Well, she wasn’t there. Sort of. It was a video call, so perhaps that counted.
Hassel, Poppy, and Rika all shook their heads, the latter being the one who chose to speak.
“No,” she said simply, unable to conjure up any further questions. Oh well. If she had something to ask, she’d figured she’d just send an email.
“Then you are dismissed.” Geeta smiled, satisfied. “I have a digital meeting with all the Gym Leaders next.” She paused, the Rotom Phone, once again turning back towards Larry. “You, Larry, will be excluded of course. I see no reason to have you sit through this same discussion twice.”
He nodded gratefully.
“As for the rest of you, I urge you all to hurry back to the League Building and begin your preparations there. Check your emails, ready your Pokémon, and wrap up whatever projects you still have lingering. We only have so many days to prepare for this.”
Larry noted how she said this as if she wasn’t the one who had decided the deadline.
“Thank you, Miss Geeta,” Professor Clavell nodded.
“Not a problem, Professor Clavell. Goodbye.”
And, with that, the Rotom Phone shut off before sliding itself back onto the desk.