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Description

It is inevitable that with progress, there will always be those who are left behind. Those that, caught in the tides of change, could not cope and adapt, and consequently fell behind. In a city as progressive as Andalusst, it is no wonder that those left behind by progress number by the thousands.

Which is probably why, as Jekyll walked down 231 W. Shratenal Avenue, in an area the citizens have come to call Lusstless, he was met with looks of jealousy and hatred. Said to be where the forgotten and the fallen gather, to say that Lusstless is in a state of disrepair would be an understatement. The colours of the buildings, once vibrant, is now but a faded ghost of the glory it once was. Those made of wood now has rot and mold encroaching its sides, and those made of stone lie crumbling or crumbled. It is a sad sight indeed, but one which he has saw countless times in the past.

Often, his mentor, the esteemed Doctor Henri Jekyll, would bring him here during the course of his apprenticeship in order to remind him of the costs of progress, and those unfortunate enough to have to pay it. His predecessor would tell him that, despite how it may seem, most who gather in the shadows of the crumbling buildings are not here by choice, and as honest practitioners, it is their duty to see to the sick and the wounded. Even if the sick and wounded would rather wound them than to accept their help.

Even now, despite the fact that he has taken over his mentor’s practice completely in his absence, as well as the fact that it would be faster and less risky to teleport to his destination, Jekyll preferred to walk through the area, offering his assistance and expertise to those who would accept. Although, with the increasing social gap between Lusstless and the high society, few would trust him enough to let him approach, let alone treat them, his apathy merely compounding the problem.

“What took you so long?” Hyde’s voice cut through his train of thoughts, bringing him out of his reverie.

“Hyde?” he asked, temporarily confused, he was sure he told her to wait at their destination. Looking around, however, he realised that he had reached his destination whilst lost in thought.

Ramshackle with unkempt lawn, along with a faded fence that barely formed a boundary, at first glance, Ma Gaskhan’s Orphanage looks just like any other building in Lusstless. However, if one were to take a closer look, they would be able to see that there were small details that sets it apart from the rest of the neighbourhood. The building is devoid of any signs of rot or moss, despite it being built mostly out of wood. Flowers were grown alongside the grass, the care put into tending them apparent only to those who looked. What sets it apart the most from the rest of the neighbourhood, however, are the clear laughter and giggles of the children in the orphanage.

Children who, out of respect for the orphanage’s caretaker, Jekyll has promised to do monthly check-ups on. Free of cost.

“Look, Jekyll, I don’t know how much longer I can hold these kids so better set-up shop fast before they completely lose it.” Hyde, Jekyll’s Teddiursine assistant said, her arms crossed and her irritation ever present in her tone.

As if on cue, the various children who have been taken under the care of the orphanage came rushing towards the pair. They all spoke at once, the activities they did, what experiences they’ve had, all of which are, to Jekyll, minor details which he has no interest whatsoever to know.

“Right, right,” Jekyll said, his voice betraying no emotion, “Round them up and have them go to the usual room then.” before making his way to the building.
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By the time the makeshift medicine room was devoid of sounds of the children’s activities, the sun had nearly reached it’s peak, its early afternoon rays illuminating the single medicinal cabinet with its lone first aid kit and the slumped form of Jekyll over the desk provided to him by the orphanage’s caretaker.

A long sigh escaped Jekyll as he gathered his belongings as well as his thoughts. Never in his short career has he ever been so tired than when dealing with these children. Which is odd, considering the significant workload he so often gives himself.

“Yeah, these kids can be a handful, don’t they?” Said a raspy, female voice, drawing Jekyll’s attention to the doorway where a Kangaskhan stood. There were faded battle scars on her hide from days long past, and the pouch where the baby usually resides in was empty. A sore subject, Jekyll knew, for the aged caretaker of the orphanage.

“Madam Khan,” Jekyll began, “forgive me, I did not notice you were there.”

“Don’t need to bother yourself,” the Kangaskhan said, motioning for Jekyll to remain seated as he began to stand up in order to greet the caretaker of the orphanage herself. “Trust me when I say I know how tired you can be.” she said, before seating herself on a nearby stool.

“What business do you have with me, madam?” Jekyll asked as he carefully placed his stethoscope within his medical bag.

“Oh, nothing much, I just feel like making small talk, is all,” she replied, “I heard from Hyde that you are planning to attend the Frosty Festivities that the guilds organised.”

“Yes, what of it?” Jekyll asked, clipping his medical bag shut and giving the caretaker his undivided attention.

Ma Gaskhan raised an eyebrow at the doctor before saying, “Forgive me for saying this Jekyll, but you just don’t seem like the ‘festival’ type.”

“To be frank, I would not attend such things normally. However, given the fact that our team’s repute is not well known. As well as the fact that we are somewhat reclusive, I have concluded that this event, in which many will participate in for enjoyment, will be the best and most efficient way of increasing our repute. What’s more, I will have the chance to study Nevermeltice, the cooling properties of which I plan to use as refrigeration for my clinic.” Jekyll said matter-of-factly.

The Kangaskhan, however, merely gave a bemused smile at him, before breaking into light chuckles. “Alright then, seems like you’ve got it all figured out, don’t you?” With a huge sigh, she stood up and stretched before continuing, “Well, you better get a move on, then, wouldn’t want you burning daylight, would we? I’ll call Hyde in on my way out.” Pausing at the door, she tilted her head in Jekyll’s direction and added, “And Jekyll, do try to have fun, would you?” and then she’s gone.

A few minutes later, Hyde walked in, “Hey, Ma said you’re ready to go?” She asked, evidently out of breath but in a considerably lighter mood than before.
“I am always prepared.” Came Jekyll’s reply, “Let us proceed, shall we?” he said as he strode out the door with Hyde in tow. As they exited the orphanage, several of the orphans came to see them off, but Jekyll paid them little to no attention as, he began to formulate a general plan for the Festivities.

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The back door of Disastre Restaurant gently creaked open as a wary eye looked from left to right, carefully observing the surroundings. Confirming that no Pokemon waited outside for him, a ragged looking Buizel stepped out cautiously, making sure to close the heavy iron door behind him with as little sound as possible. Of all the buildings in Lusstless, luckily this was the only one with a solid foundation and upkeeping, allowing for even the heavily reinforced door to slide to a close with ease, making sure not to notify any passerby of his presence.

The water weasel’s stomach growled, forcing him to curl over in pain. Though he had just eaten not a minute ago, starvation still held a tight hold on his being. At least he had some nourishment though, which was something most of the citizens of Lusstless couldn’t say for themselves.

Suddenly, a shifting in a nearby pile of trash and rubble caught the attention of the Buizel, forcing him to narrow his eyes and be on the alert. Realizing who it most likely was, he said in a sonorous tone, “Stop stalking me, Settoku.”

“And I thought I was the psychic,” a malicious voice replied, as a thin and dirty Gallade stepped out from his shadowy hiding spot into the center of the moonlight residing over the ghetto-like area. The suave warrior leaned against an opposing crumbling building, blades crossed and a smug look on his suave face. He pushed back at the excess green hair he had, releasing his refrain from fully seeing his target. With a small laugh, he continued, “And you have such a mean face on today. Did something happen at work, RJ?”

RJ simply looked away from the perpetrator, knowing eye contact only pushed him on. “Work was fine, thanks for asking. The Pokemon there are pretty nice, if a tad uptight,” he replied. With a cold demeanor, he shot back, “Though, I doubt that’s what you’re here for.”

Settoku chuckled at RJ’s wariness of his usual malice, and cooly countered, “Oh come now, I’m only here for light conversation, RJ-kun.”

“Don’t call me that,” RJ spat out, locking eyes with the Gallade. “You aren’t even close to friends with me, asshole.”

“Well, what would you prefer?” the noble warrior pressed on, stepping closer and closer to RJ. “RJ-chan? RJ-san? I’m even willing to go to RJ-sam if you are really as uptight as your precious co-workers there.”

“Answer my question, Settoku-kohai,” RJ said with a sly grin, only to have it mimicked by Settoku. Usually, he places the Gallade lower. “What the hell are you doing here at this hour?”

“Well, as I was saying,” the Gallade continued, starting to strut in a circle around the Buizel, “I wanted to know how life at work was going. I mean, it seems you have taken up this job specifically to help Andromeda, but perhaps there is something in it for yourself?” Settoku’s devilish smile returned to his face as he made a full circle around the two-tailed water type, and he leaned down to the water type’s level, to look him straight in the eyes, forcing RJ to be pierced by the hellish crimson gaze of his self-entitled rival. “Perhaps you have grown tired of your beloved?”

Rage engulfed the Buizel, as he tried to beat Settoku upside his head with a Brick Break attack, only to be quickly countered by the Gallade with a simple block of his arm, precharged with a Slash attack. RJ yelped in pain, looking to his paw to find his warm blood dripping down both Settoku’s arm and dampening his own blaze orange fur into the dark red he hated to see so. Pulling his arm away from the blade, RJ grabbed hold of his wrist to stop the flow of blood, dropping the food he had taken for Andromeda in the process.

“Oh, what a shame,” Settoku whined sarcastically. “You’ve gone and spilled your horrendous, poverty filled blood on my arm. Tch tch.” Putting his blade to his hip, the Gallade continued on his small banter, “No, this simply cannot go unpunished.” Taking note of the food RJ had dropped, Settoku grabbed it from the ground and removed the clean plastic wrap, revealing two sweet rolls, still warm from the oven. “Now, this can certainly get the job done!”

“F-f-fuck you, Settoku,” RJ sputtered out, now on his knees. Had he been in full strength, he would have attempted to stop the Gallade from using the rolls as a towel, but he was still too weak to do anything about it. All the Buizel could do was inflate his buoy with rage and cries of pain, as he watched the heartless warrior clean off himself with both sweet rolls, one for each side of his arm.

“There!” the Gallade said triumphantly, thrusting his arm to the sky. “Just like new!” Knowing it would only anger his “friend” more, Settoku tossed the bloodied rolls to RJ, both lightly bouncing off the boy’s head before plopping on the ground. “And now you have a gift proper for that whore of a girlfriend you have.”

Veins visibly popped on RJ’s forehead, bringing him back to his feet and surging rage throughout his body. “What did you just say, fucker?”

Settoku simply looked back on his opponent, looking as though he was about to walk away. “Oh, I’m just bringing you the latest of rumors is all. She’s just been talking with some of her friends about a possible separation or solo event so she may enjoy the free life, a life where she can adventure. I guess she just doesn’t have that with someone like you, despite putting on your little bad boy show for her, now does she?”

Clenching his fist, RJ simply glared at the malicious Gallade. Though he had been his rival, or nemesis for lack of a better word, there was some credit to his word that stung in the Buizel’s heart. Looking away from the noble warrior, he only could furrow his brows and mumble, “Just get the hell out of here, asshole.”

“Gladly,” Settoku replied jovially, and started to strut back towards Shratenal Avenue. However, midway through his stride, the psychic fighter stopped and turned back to RJ. “However,” he continued, pulling out a previously hidden flier and throwing it to his ‘friend’ like a kunei knife. “I can’t help but offer you a bit of help to figuring out the truth.”

RJ caught the flier with ease and looked at the cover. It was nothing but advertisement for the next event, a party in the Avalodge building, home to one of the largest meeting halls in all of Andalusst. Confused, RJ looked back to Settoku, asking, “What does this have anything to do with anything?”

“Oh, you’ll see.” Settoku continued his nonchalant walk back to the main street, a dignified poise to his strut. “All the truths should be revealed at this party, and perhaps a little fun will come out of it. Though, knowing you, that won’t be the case. No matter the situation, you should go, just to fill in that pothole you call a stomach.”

As the Gallade disappeared around the corner, RJ looked over the details of the party, noticing plenty of games, festivities, and various enjoyable things for the common partygoer to enjoy. Would she really attend something like this… without me? RJ thought. I know I told her we shouldn’t go, but we wouldn’t be accepted! The Buizel put his bad paw to his muzzle, contemplating the issue, before letting out a mixture of a grunt and a sigh. Dammit Settoku! You better be right.