The remaining questions seed more rote, procedural as they asked her to describe how she interacted with the military and the police, what she was asked to do, and a strangely detailed list of questions about how she was held in custody. But just like they said, after a few more questions and so fumbling to get through the door, Tanya was released from the modified storage closet barely an hour after she’d been led inside.
Which, while a lot longer than what Alia went through, and more in line with what Tanya was expecting, is still a little short.
Alia is manning the counter when Tanya steps into the front room, offering a curious look that quickly transitions to a smile and wave when she sees the two interrogators stepping out behind her.
One of the interrogators, from behind Tanya struggles to tell the difference, steps up to Alia and offers a handshake.
“Thank you for your ti Alia, I do not expect to need to reach out again, but in the event we do you will receive a phone call through your resident center. Have a nice day.”
With that, she grabs a pokeball, recalls Ditto to the sound of Alia’s shocked exclamation, then turns and starts walking out the missing doors without looking back.
“Wait– What?” Alia questions, looking at the spot where Ditto had been recalled as if she cannot believe her eyes. “How did– was she– how?”
Tanya feels a smirk tugging at her lips.
“That was a ditto I believe.”
The offered clarification stops Alia's sputtering, instead having her look up at her partner with a suspicious expression.
“And you knew this?” She asks, to which the ‘mon can only nod.
“I figured it out during the interview.”
Alia grunts in acknowledgent, then sighs, placing her elbows on the countertop and resting her head on her hands.
“I thought it was odd she didn't say anything, but I thought she was doing like a… good cop bad cop thing.” She sighs, scrubs her eyes with two knuckles. “Also. Did you really have to destroy the automatic doors? Apparently it’s super hard to get replacents for that kind of stuff and Aunt– Nurse Lilly spent a good five minutes complaining about having to deal with it.”
Tanya gives Alia a nonplussed look, not that she could see it.
“I was in a hurry if you’ll recall.”
“Yea…” The Joy sighs, then scrubs her face with a groan before standing upright. “I know it’s not this place’s fault. But I’m ecstatic we’re getting back on the trail tomorrow.”
“We are?” Tanya blinks, realizing she lost track of ti. Sure enough, after counting the days and hours, this is their last shift before heading off. “Huh. Didn't realize.”
At her confirmation, the ‘mon suddenly realizes that there’s a tension in her partner's movents that, combined with a few other behavioral cues…
She’s worried about sothing and trying to hide it.
Every other ti she’s behaved like this it’s ant she’s emotionally unstable, which always leads to problems, and from previous experiences Alia isn't going to reveal what’s causing her distress until the emotions erupt in unpredictable ways.
Tanya exhales through her nose at the illogical behavior, casting her mind through her mories and social systems to figure out what the human is so–
“Chansey.” Alia says calmly as she stands to attention, still looking straight ahead. “Do you want to keep going with ?”
The ‘mon looks down at her partner with a confused head tilt at the baffling turn.
“...Elaborate.”
At the instruction Alia takes a slow breath.
“I’ve been thinking about this, and a journey’s supposed to be about… seeing the world for the first ti, getting life experience, proving that you can make it. But… now that I know you’ve already doneall of that, you don't have to hide it. You could just stay here and finish your classwork if you wanted. I have to think that, for you, walking around in the woods instead of what you really want to do probably just feels like a waste of tim–”
“I’m aware of what the point of a journey is.” Tanya interrupts with an exasperated sigh. “We’ve talked about it before. We’ve talked about it at length.”
Alia jolts, looking up at Tanya with a flustered expression as the ‘mon continues.
Honestly, getting so worked up about sothing so trivial. It’s a good thing Alia decided to go on a journey, by her own trics she seriously needs to learn the lesson of not making a big deal out of small problems.
“I did not join you out of… pity or whatever it is you think inford my decision.” She says with a huff. “Back… where I was before, things were different. If you’ll recall, one of the things you described repeatedly about a journeywas learning how to interact and cooperate with pokemon. Need I remind you that pokemon did not exist back before? I’d say I need this journey more than you do in that respect, from the other side.”
In response to the slightly irritated rant, Alia’s expression twists through relief, realization, embarrassnt, then apology and ends with a small laugh.
“O-Oh yea. Right, we did talk about all this stuff. I’m not sure why I thought you didn't know… Sorry.” She says, taking a deep breath. “I just didn't want you to feel like you were stuck doing sothing you don't want–”
“Alia, again. You did not trick into doing this.” Tanya reiterates with a roll of the eyes. “We laid out exactly what we would be doing and, with full knowledge… full pertinent knowledge for the context, we agreed. If I’d thought this was useless, I wouldn't be doing it.”
Watching her partner’s face, Tanya feels a small tinge of amusent at the Joy’s embarrassed expression.
“Well– I– I just– Sorry Chansey, I didn–”
“You don't have to apologize.” The ‘mon grumbles, rubbing the space between her eyes. “I assure you, I’m right where I want to be.”
“Sorry.” Alia repeats, then seems to realize what she’d done and opens her mouth, then freezes.” …Sorry”
Tanya sighs.
For all the good aspects Alia has, her tendency to get into her own head and start making these… paranoid assumptions is easily the most frustrating.
—--
–_–
—--
Petra Joy rolls her neck to work out a kink as she slumps bonelessly in the hard tal chair ubiquitous to her line of work.
Her job is… not quite glamorous, infamous is a more accurate term. Because she only shows up when a mber of her clan fails to uphold the standard of excellence that cos with their family's legacy.
It’s rare that she has to do anything other than send a letter with so pointed questions, but whenever she does need to show up it ans soone’s ssed up badly enough the clan needs her to be there.
From there the job is even more complicated, and straddles the very large grey area of clan and governntal authority with the task of mitigating the damage, managing perception, and interfacing with governnts or law enforcent.
She's part lawyer, part PR rep, and part school principal co down to tell off the naughty school children.
Who may or may not be twice her age, and decided for so reason that synthesising and administering illegal hallucinogens is better than letting criminals do it, because apparently ‘people will always find the drugs and if they get them from anywhere else there’s no guarantee that it’ll be a safe compound or dosage.’
This of course led to a near catastrophic disaster of money, power, the criminal underworld, a mber of the clan taking on the pseudonym ‘Curie,’ the woman getting in way over her head, and needing to be carefully extracted before the dia could find out.
It took months to get that dolt out safely without having the entire thing blow up in everyone’s face. Though that disaster was large enough she was only actually in charge of physically getting the wayward clan mber before turning them over to the police for a very quiet closed trial.
But Petra would take ten Curies over what she’d had to deal with today.
Because how in the worldis she supposed to phrase this in a report? Not just to the governnt, but to the clan?
‘Oh yes it turns out one of our Joy affiliated partners, raised in our nurseries, was knowingly trying to kill people. No, I didn't ask if she regretted it or if she’d do it again because I suspect I already know the answer to that one.’
Questioning the morality of the decision skips past the thrust of the point that such a thing could happen at all.
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Petra sighs.
There’s always a way to spin it, because whatever nonsense gets her called in almost always cos from a good place, this ti’s no different.
But that giant ‘mon was just so… casually lethal and seemingly not in the least bit troubled about it.
If she didn't know better from the ‘mon’s flat, almost uncaring deanor, she’d say the violence was possible due to a lack of empathy, but it’s clear that the ‘mon feels empathy just fine.
It's just despite that –or perhaps becauseof it– she can decide with a hair trigger switch that she needs to kill people to keep her loved ones safe.
But if the league, let alone the governnt, hears this wrong they’re going to get… temperantal, start trying to pressure the clan to give up the ‘mon which is a problem on several levels, the most imdiate being that it would be punishing the ‘mon for saving tens of thousands of lives, the most distant it represents an attack on the Joy clan’s functional internal autonomy.
Unfortunately, in her opinion, the governnt’s whole zero tolerance policy on killing thing seems… pretty objectively like a good idea.
Except in this situation, where it’s a problem.
If that’s not bad enough, what about the clan? She’s not precisely sure what the consensus will be here. Obviously the clan conduct and inquiry board will back her goal of keeping everything quiet and work to downplay the events to the public and the governnt, recognising the extraordinary circumstances needed for this to ever beco a problem again. The Hoenn Head Nurse is a modernist so she’ll want to send everyone involved to a therapist for six months before anything else can even get started.
But the Matrons?
Their decision making is so inscrutable she’d say they’re going senile if they still weren't sharp as tacks.
Petra sighs, wiggling as she tries and fails to get comfortable on her tal seat, cracking one eye open to the sound of oozing and levels a glare at her mirror image half lted into her own seat with a blissful expression.
“...Show off.” She grunts.
“Di– Di– Ji– Je–alous.” Ditto burbles back, cracking open a pure black undisguised eye with a smile at turns to an expression of pure focus that has the ‘mon’s disguise lt even further. “ Itt-that chans-itto does not play around with t-tto-threats to family, for a second there I was sure we were about dit–to…” The ‘mon pauses and laughs, sinking deeper into the chair. “Ditto di dit ditto dit–” They stop, scrunching their face like clay, then try again. “I was about-tto say battle, but I think I’d just be a spla-itto on the wall.”
“You saw the photos, try through the wall.” Petra snips back, but the thought of those photos deflates the mood pretty quickly.
It’s very rare that docunts are classified to release by request and redacted for graphic content. But for these it’s warranted.
Though the release by request reclassification is more the CCIB nudging things than anything else.
“...You’re getting a lot better at that.” She comnts after a second. “You only dropped back once this ti.”
“Dittooooooooo.” The ‘mon groans, completely abandoning shape into ooze. “Dit ditto.”
“Yea, I believe you, it seems really hard.” She laughs at her partner’s complaint before looking back to the ceiling again to continue gathering her energy for her report.
A few minutes later the Joy is drawn from her thoughts by a knock on the door, giving her just enough ti to sit up straight with a grunt before it opens and a man in a national guard cap pokes his head through the gap.
“Ms. Joy, you have a video call from Evergrande. Could you co with ?”
She nods, all business once more as she stands to a perfect posture and fixes her clothes in a single smooth motion of a hundred tiny adjustnts.
“Lead the way.”
Following behind with a aningful look at the ‘chairs’ stacked on top of each other as she leaves, Petra allows herself to be led through the halls of the converted police station,
It's incredible how quickly the national guard can turn anywhere they go into a disaster response center, though for this situation it seems like it’s not necessary, considering the fact that the only disaster to manage is the failure of letting this disaster even co close to happening and of keeping the public from going into a panic.
Or worse, losing faith in the clan.
Opening another door, she’s led into a room with a cobbled together array of CRT’s and portable switchboards freshly connected to the ergency lines, but in the far corner is a standard terminal found in every center with the screen above signaling an incoming video call.
The soldier salutes as she steps through and closes it behind her, leaving the Joy alone once more as she walks up to the terminal and accepts the call.
Imdiately the screen splits up into three different video fras, CCIB on their long table, the Head Nurse in her office professionally frad, and in the final video is what looks like a 280p blurry darkened silhouettes that could be a room full of–
“Oh there you are Petra.” Matron Edna grumbles. “I thought you’d forgotten about us.”
Cheeks coloring, Petra opens her mouth to apologize, but Matron Leiah interrupts.
“Oh lay off the poor dear would you? She’s still young enough that she’s actually busy.”
“Very busy, when was the last ti she visited?”
“Oh not you too–”
“Ahem.” The Head Nurse intentionally clears her throat, silencing the group. “Thank you for joining us, now I assu we’ve all read the preliminary report and we’re all very busy so let's be concise about this. Petra?”
The Joy hesitates, drafting what exactly she’s going to say before opening her mouth.
“Well…” She starts, trailing off with a sigh. “I’m not sure concise is possible here.”
From there she launches into her report, essentially a cut down play by play of her interview with both Alia and her partner, adding in her own comntary to inform context or suggest decisions without actually saying that she recomnds it.
In under ten minutes she gets through the important details, running through a few areas again after so follow up questions before winding down with a sigh and the guilty pleasure that this problem isn't just her problem anymore.
“Are there any further questions?” She asks the screen, to which the chairwoman of the CCIB motions with her hand.
“So we’re correct to assu minimal exposure? The governnt is already doing most of the job for us to prevent a panic. As… sowhat unsettling as a few of the things we’ve heard today are, I think we all agree the risk of sothing this extre happening again is negligible? You confird the… aberrant behavior wasn't caused by Alia’s training and clearly she’s not at risk. I’d recomnd minimal intervention, add a note to Alia’s file and request her partner take so anger managent classes.”
The Head Nurse scoffs.
“I think we all know anger managent is not the problem here, it’s clear the both of them need professional counseling and assessnt. The both of them just went through extrely traumatic events, therefore I override the boards advisent, we will–”
“Oh calm down, both of you.” Matron Leiah grumbles, her soft voice silencing the Head Nurse. “They’ll be fine, had a bit of a scare, let Alia run around in the woods for a few days and it’ll be like nothing happened.”
“Need strong nerves to be a nurse.” Another Matron grumbles, a sentint that’s echoed by agreeing murmurs.
The Head Nurse nods as she waits a second to confirm the matrons are done talking.
“...Reguardless of Alia, her partner needs careful moderation and certainly needs psychological help. If her partner is going it only makes sense for both to go.”
The CCIB chairwoman hesitates with a wince, then motions to speak.
“Psychological screenings will make external ssaging difficult if we try to minimize our exposure. It will look like we’re trying to hide sothing.”
Which they are, a murderous chansey, but Petra isn't going to be the one to say that out loud.
The Head Nurse gives a stern glare at the screen, presumably directed at the chairwoman, but before she has the chance to speak there’s a cough.
“None of that now, if either of them need help we will give it. But Beth, dearest daughter of mine.” One of the matron’s black low resolution silhouettes says as she puts down what could either be a pencil or knitting needles with a click. “You’re acting like you’ve never heard of a pokemon defending their partner, and isn't the girl on a journey?”
“She’s already plentywillful if she’s doing that.”
“It’s probably because the girl’s gone off on a journey, wants to drag the poor girl back to the nest.” Another matron chis in.
“When was the last ti we had soone go journeying?”
“Isnt there soone right now in Kanto?”
“Matrons please.” The Head Nurse of all of Hoenn interrupts with a sigh as she rubs the bridge of her nose and continues with a harried tone. “It seems the consensus is to do nothing?”
No one looks pleased by that, despite it being what two thirds advised, then the chairwoman of the CCIB gives a long sigh.
“Petra.” She says, causing the Joy to straighten her back. “Would you say in your assessnt that either of them were… psychologically distressed?”
The Joy takes a mont to consider.
“...Alia seed sowhat upset when asked to recount the events, and while Espeon never triggered a lie I got the sense she was holding sothing back, especially when talking about her partner. Chansey… seed almost completely level in her mood. A bit jumpy.”
Unfortunately the Swellow wasn't there, and unless the ‘mon was on Alia’s hip at the ti of the interview, Petra really has no authority to request him.
Her answer didn't seem to please anyone, the call lapsing into silence for a few seconds before Matron Leiah’s voice buzzes across her poor quality microphone.
“Alright then, how about this? It’ll take a while to travel from Lavaridge to… wherever they’re going next. Plenty of ti for all this nonsense to blow over. Wherever they end up Beth will fly soone over and have them take a peek at their brains to make sure everything’s square.”
The offer seems to at least appease everyone, both other monitors nodding. The Head Nurse looks down to write sothing.
“This seems like a fair compromise. Thank you Matron.”
She’s answered by a grunt that falls off to silence as the Head Nurse continues to write, broken after a few seconds by quiet muttering from the room full of Matrons and the shuffling of paper.
Then Matron Edna’s voice cuts through.
“How about that… Milly was hogging the packet we got faxed. So I just now saw the picture of that chansey.” She grumbles with more shuffling of paper as it looks like she’s showing it to the person next to her. “...She’s a big one isn't she? Makes think about those old Sinnoh legends…”
“Sure does.”
“Let see those picture– great skies that’s a big ‘mon.”
“Oh those stories are delightful.
“I always thought the ‘grand’ part of ‘grand protector’ was more of a taphor. But what if…”
“Wouldnt that be a laugh.”
“Ha! I don't rember those stories very well, but wasn't there sothing about them ‘defending against disaster?’ Considering recent events it would be nice to know what to look out for…”
“Oh don't start with your destiny nonsense again.”
“And the Jubili archives have the triarch legend with all those lovely pictures. I thought it was a poetic taphor for her importance being at the sa ‘scale’ as the big three but… but I don't rember… Hmmm.”
“Beatrice? Is your cousin in Sinnoh still alive?”
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