Prologue.
Sunday 06:43 GT
Snowbound Lodge, Rt. 217;
------?A Warm Bed And Little Else?
------Kirlia proved audaciously fond of the room as she sat cross-legged on the counter in an oversized harajuku T-shirt, a clipboard balanced in her lap implicating business ? she retained a whimsy regardless, whether it was the
click-click-click of her pen; whether it was imprinting the foggy window pane with runny smiley-faces.
------Otherwise, a draft must have ushered in from the lobby past the shoddy insulation ? a chilly, choke-holding silence had overtaken the room. No one made eye contact, no one spoke; Kirlia couldn?t and the suits were tight-lipped as always, faking obliviousness in their fuss and hustle, uniformed in black and trailing white across the kitchen floor. Dragging heels or dress shoes through the carpet. Checking the time and shuffling documents-- dropping them.
Huffing of frustration--
cough-cough-cough! (
Click-click.)
------They had insisted on keeping their dress coats. (They had ignored her offer to let her take them. And their hats, gloves, and scarves were on the floor now.) One suit drew away ?
cough, cough ? and the other drew a dark and formidable briefcase, maneuvering around Kirlia (
click? click...) to set it on the counter. (
Click.)
------This was all only so infuriating in a pedantic way. It triggered the irrational pride you felt over something when someone else acted like they?d paid for it.
------So the client, the newly-hired, and the neglected host that was
Madame Wakahisa steeped in her contempt with nails digging into the cardboard of her reception-area tea. She wasn?t drinking it, just staring with her own strained, projected sort of patience. Her face was a wan canvas, and her fuchsia robe proved a flagrant reminder of exactly what time it was. She had a towel wrapped around her head, in case it wasn?t enough.
------Meanwhile, Blazer paced the little room, cough suppressed under a balled-up fist. And Ventless took particularly to laying out manila folder, then contract, then another goddamn pen.
------Click.
------Harley?s voice arose, soft from sleep but smooth: ?Well, Tarantino? Aren?t you going to open it??
------Kirlia jumped to attention.
------Ventless grunted and, in a contiguous motion, the briefcase snapped open to reveal the compacted Pok?ball inside.
------?Ooh!? went Harley breathlessly. ?That?s a Cherish??
------?Okay, calm down.? Ventless halted her before she could round the corner, then continued, ?You?re under a two-meter restraining order ?til you sign.?
------?Ahh. She?s the feisty type? But I thought you said she didn?t bite, so surely she isn?t dangerous??
------Ventless shrugged. ?It?s just company policy. Could be a Caterpie in there.?
------From across the room, Blazer pinched the bridge of her nose and called from the lounge chair she?d invited herself to get comfortable in: ?Please don?t touch the Pok?mon or the Pok?mon?s container without proper authorization.?
------Harley imagined what she?d have said to the woman if she also hadn?t woken up thirty minutes earlier.
------Ventless checked his watch. ?I mean, you?re already this far. I would just do it.?
------?Mm.? She hinged like a dipping bird, paying the littlest discretion to the tiny print through eyes that longed to close again, looping long and slow ? Tarantino etched frantically across her own paper, ignoring an absent ?No doodling? from Ventless ? and as Harley finished, the clipboard flew in her face.
------?What manners!? she exclaimed. It was a picture of two men, one with a speech bubble over his afroed head: ?IENGLISH MOTHER FUCKER DUYU SPEKKIT???
------?Who taught you that language?? Harley fired back.
------Tarantino grinned at her sourness, pointing towards herself.
Ventless sighed. ?You can meet your partner now, Wakahisa.?
------She liked the word ?partner.?
?Finally.? It was a revitalizing word said officiously but, at its core, deeply intimate.
------?Remind me to train your accent one day. You?re so stiff!? She snatched the Cherish Ball, held it to her eye between lean thumb and forefinger.
This is destiny, she thought.
It?s rightful! I?ve deserved a second chance, I really have. Her eyes fluttered shut and smirked; she imagined herself on-stage, she imagined lights and action and cameras getting her good side. It was exhilarating in thought. It dangled like a carrot on a string. She was older, but she was still Harley.
------She feigned a fainting gesture ? ?Is it true?? She?s
really my little cherub Eevee?? -- and flourished as the ball failed to respond?
------(?Oh?? She pressed the button. ?That?s not cool. No wonder no one buys these??)
------?ballooned in her hand. An off-guard Harley chucked it.
------Elyse exploded out in a red glare, stocky limbs flailing, then rolling, rolling across the kitchen counter. Tarantino vanished a bit to let her accommodate.
------The Eevee scrambled to her paws as if having committed some terrific faux-paus, trying to fight through her fluff with claw and teeth.
------?Hho-ho, she?s adorable! Oh, but I don?t attend to be disrespectful. It?s a pleasure to meet you, Elyse. I?m certain it will be divine to work with you.?
------Elyse, pulling the bow on her tail back into place, perked instinctually at her name, not realizing that her first impression had begun, that she would be talked to.
------?Yes, I?ve heard a bit about you. You?re very accustomed to this whole ?coordinating? business, no? I suppose you?ll be leading me as much as I?ll be leading you! I?d never think a Pokemon could be so creative.?
------Elyse pondered the compliment for that distinctly-human ?double side.?
------Ventless coughed, not like Blazer who moaned from the background.
?Did she sign the contract yet??
------He, again, checked his watch. ?Right. Elyse, Harley. Harley, Elyse. We?ve?,? the suit gestured to the reappeared Tarantino, ??clued her into what she can look forward to already. She shouldn?t be too difficult to work with.?
------?Hm! I?m curious to what you said about me.? With a facetious simper, the woman took up her tea and a packet of sugar. ?I remember your analysis described her as ?hasty.? Could you elaborate on that??
------?Err?" Ventless must have wondered why she wasn?t already aware. ?Well, ?hasty? Pokemon, if you?ve never raised one, tend to be more prone to being? neurotic. That doesn?t always mean they rush the job, just that they?re more sensitive to stress systems. Sometimes more defensive, just not usually abrasive?
------?I see.? Ventless seemed reluctant to pet the Eevee, especially as she proved true to the description with intermittent anxious, flitting glances over her pelt. Harley offered her the open packet with a smile; Elyse was certainly hasty to oblige.
------?But she?s still ?easy to work with,? no? Does she not work well under pressure??
------?I mean, she doesn?t have stage fright or anything like that. She?s well-trained. ...yeah, she was taught to perform, so she should do fine in that regard, whatever her nature.?
------?That?s Pokemon for you!? Harley laughed. ?You would think they were just bunches of code sometimes, they?re so precise at what they do!?
------Elyse settled on her hind legs the edge of the counter. She poured sugar in her mouth and fought to ignore Tarantino who studied the process with keen interest.
------?I do hope the whole ?exaggerated genetic instability? thing doesn?t harm her too much,? Harley continued. ?I?m sure Elyse is quite capable of taking care of herself, but a ?sensitivity to water under room temperature? would be a bother for anyone, wouldn?t it??
------Ventless said, ?I guess so," after some hesitance. Elyse is just the best fit according to statistics and, like, public image.?
------?I?m sure she is. She?s a wonderful Pokemon. Actually, where did she come from, Elyse? Can your company afford affiliated breeders??
------?Uh? I don?t really? We can?t discuss financial queries with you.?
------Ventless turned towards Blazer, struggling with her own sensitivity as she said, ?Maybe you should get Elyse a snack or something, she?s been in that ball for a while.?
------Now hopeless, Ventless turned back towards Harley. ?Err, do you have any other concerns???
------?Well, other than being depended on whilst being left to my own devices in an entirely new career, not
particularly.?
------Ventless tried to curb her snark with, ?The closest standard contest is scheduled for Tuesday at 8pm in Snowpoint City. First of the season.?
------And obviously Harley was prepared to know this, considering the frosty expanse outside, but she was sympathetic ? in a good mood now ? and keen to retain the self-effacing optimism that had arose in her after meeting Elyse. She smiled, asked, ?What would be the easiest route into Snowpoint, then??
------?I think there?s a shuttle now that leaves from Acuity Lakefront. Otherwise, it?s a ten-hour hike. In optimal weather conditions,? he then added, as if it would quell Harley?s pout.
------?Sorry, Wakahisa, but
Bittersweet can?t provide transportation to idols. Not because of the budget or anything? We discussed this.?
------A vigilant Tarantino tapped pen to page for attention. On her clipboard now she presented to Harley a caricature uncanny to both herself and Uma Thurman standing on a pedestal of sorts over a spread of lauding fans (represented with circles and arched ?happy? lines). Above the commotion was a spread of ?good deeds?: Umarley helping an old woman cross a city street; Umarley rescuing a Skitty from a tree; Umarley walking up to random people and handing them tickets to the site of her next public appearance.
------?No, I get it? Why this has to be an ordeal, anyway. I don?t know when my
Belle?N appearance is due, but I suppose celebrity status has to be earned like money.?
------Ventless grunted agreement. He checked his watch, then jerked back to attention with relief?
------Blazer called, ?You need to finalize your terms and conditions. Did she finalize It, Kyle? Great
fuck, my head is killing me!?
------Harley flinched and Ventless, embarrassed, dove into the great strewn stack of clandestine documents for what his cohort intended. The search was proving futile after a few flustered seconds. Elyse attempted to move her tail, while Tarantino casually pulled the final page of the terms and conditions contract, materialized between the pages of her clipboard. She handed it to Harley, who caught Ventless? attention.
------?Oh.?
------Ths was be the last
click Harley wanted to hear in her lifetime. But, as the nub inched closer, she halted, put on a show of consideration with cocked head and pursed lips. ?And what does this get me??
------The suit, quick to answer: ?Eight months of unconditional affiliation with Bittersweet. All contest application and scheduling accounted for my creative advising. Any additional requirements of your company are financially insured. Unconditional filming??
------??that?s what I thought.? She smiled, as if validated. She dipped and, in a fell swoop, signed.