offtracks | for outbounds

for outbounds

[ In the end, Ingo's return to his home station doesn't come down to any action of his own at all.

Akari's the one who offers the trip. She doesn't make any promises, but after the work she has put in for the almighty Sinnoh, she insists that it owes her a favor. Ingo spends a few days contemplating it, sitting quietly in his favorite spots on the mountain. Can he really leave? Whatever else he may be missing, he has built a good life here in Hisui. He is happy, most of the time. He could stay, and know exactly what his future tracks look like, and there wouldn't be any problem with that.

But...even after all this time, he still can't quite ignore the gnawing ache in his chest. How much would he regret passing up this offer? Would it not just poison anything he might build here? He has to know. Maybe he'll regret leaving Hisui behind in the end, but at least he'll know.

So he spends some time making his goodbyes. He officially steps down as Warden, and accepts one of Lady Sneasler's elder kittens as a passenger. He bids farewell to the Clan. They let him keep his bracelet, and his tunic - keepsakes, for a one-way trip. The whole time, he cannot help but question himself - is this really right? He's abandoning people that he knows care for him, to return to a complete unknown. Is that selfish of him?

Maybe. Maybe it is. But he still cannot waste the chance. And, suppressing any lingering conflict in his heart, he does.

The flash of light separates him from Akari. He had expected that; though they've agreed to try and find one another again, they did not come from the same home station. Wherever he came from, it is dark and silent. Ingo recognizes the feeling of the cool air on his skin: he's underground. Some sort of tunnel? It's hard to say from here which way is out. So he just starts walking. He hadn't been dressed for travel back then, so how far away from civilization can he really be?

After a little while, something bright and roaring barrels through the tunnel. Ingo hears it coming; he backs away from the tracks and presses himself against the wall, watching the thing pass by with wide eyes. There are people inside. Some seem to be looking back at him.

He keeps closer to the shadows and moves more cautiously after that. Scary... ]

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[ Oh Sinnoh, now he's being chased! Ingo hadn't been afraid of the chiming Pokemon on its own, really. If it weren't for the company it was in, he would have just gone out and introduced himself. But now, the sound of pursuit just alarms him further.

If he's been seen, he probably can't escape. He doesn't know the area, and he doesn't have anywhere safe to go; the spot where he woke up was just another tunnel. Better not to get surprised. He stops, turns, and releases Gliscor. ]

Something's coming. There are Zoroark down here.

[ Ingo's Pokemon all know the gist of the situation. Of course he did not simply bring them to another place and time without even asking! So the new surroundings aren't scary, but his trainer's tension certainly puts Gliscor's guard up as well. He turns, baring his teeth in a hiss. ]

[ When the ghost catches up, it's met with a decidedly less than warm welcome. That ... brings Chandelure up short.

"Deluuu...?"

But, isn't that ... ? The candelabra arms droop, just a bit. If the movements aren't enough to set Gliscor off then the ghost drifts back and forth, left and right, as if to try to peek past Gliscor to his trainer standing behind him.

(The sound of hurried footsteps is— getting closer, but not quite upon them yet, but still, echoing from somewhere behind them:) ]

Hello? If there is someone there, please be aware that this station is not open to the public. Unauthorized access is not permitted! It can be verrrry dangerous to wander down the wrong tracks in the underground. If you will, please allow Chandelure to guide you back onto a safer route!

Edited 2025-09-26 04:38 (UTC)

[ Gliscor snaps his claws in response, snarling. But he's well-trained. Under normal circumstances, he won't attack without direction, and Ingo isn't providing any.

He's still visibly tense. At the sound of the voice, he takes several more steps backwards, hiding behind Gliscor's bulk. But this isn't the ghost he was actually trying to flee, and - and it has purple flames...? He winces against an impending headache. The light? He shields his face with an arm, peering at the ghost through narrowed eyes.

Gliscor, on the other hand, recognizes that voice just about as well as Ingo does. He's well-trained - and sometimes, you do need to attack without direction. They've spent enough time living in the mountains, navigating tunnels and caves, that he knows better than to try an Earthquake or Rock Slide in a place like this. He's also fought his share of ghosts before, ghosts who talk exactly like that, who make his trainer freeze and stall out - without warning, he lashes out with a Night Slash. ]

[ The flashing honeycomb barrier of Protect snaps hastily into existence to catch the leading edge of a claw as Chandelure, well-trained and in possession of good reflexes, darts backwards with a shrieky, upset sound; Emmet, before even rounding the corner to see what's happening snaps out a quick: ]

Haxorus, depart!

[ ... over the sound and flash of a Pokeball discharging, and a tall, dark dragon interposing herself between the two Pokemon with a low, rumbling growl.

Even so, neither dragon nor ghost make a move in Gliscor's direction; their postures are defensive, but not hostile as Emmet finally catches up, skids to a halt behind the two of them, scans over the situation and takes in what's going on— and stops dead in his tracks, eyes wide. ]

[ Ingo's eyes go wide. He stumbles back a few more steps, clutching his arms close to himself - but he can't abandon Gliscor, and he can't run fast enough to get them away. Blindly, he fumbles for a second Pokeball himself, releasing another of his team at random.

Machamp is the one who emerges. He glances sidelong at Gliscor, taking his cues from his teammate; they're defensive too, but also rather a bit more hostile! The fighting-type steps sideways to try and block Ingo entirely from view, baring his teeth at Haxorus. It's a Scary Face, again uncalled for - Machamp's a little less quick to a violent defense. ]

[ Haxorus pulls back at the display, herding Chandelure with her as she does - but thrums out another low growl, swaying slowly, rhythmically in a preemptive Dragon Dance despite the Scary Face. She carefully watches the two Pokemon opposite her as she also adjusts her position, shifting herself just so to guard and hide away an upset Chandelure and a still-stricken Emmet standing even further behind, but otherwise keeps herself low to the ground and not in any obvious threat display outside of a protective half-coil.

Chandelure, however, seems to protest this treatment— as does Emmet, shaking himself out of his frozen state and the half-step he's taken back when Chandelure's flames flicker tellingly. Stop hiding him, let him through, something's wrong Ingo's upset he can fix this, he can, he just needs to be able to— ]

Wait, wait, stop— [ Emmet bites out, glad that how shaken he is does not typically show in his voice (but there were some people who always—), since before Haxorus moved to cover them he saw the same thing that's likely responsible for Chandelure's renewed agitation now, ] everyone return to your regular stations, please! Stay behind the yellow line!

[ Chandelure lets out another short, shrieky sound in response, more hissing, crackling flame and less chime, but restrains himself with clear reluctance. A single red eye peering back at him from Haxorus also conveys her incredulity despite her relative calm—really? stand down? with these two in front of them this ready for a fight?—before her attention is again occupied by watching them. But Emmet stands by the order, shaking his head sharply when Chandelure glances back at him with a morose look. Crowding— obviously isn't helping (but that's— not now, later! he will lock himself in his office if he has to later), they have to back off.

It shouldn't have escalated to this degree in the first place, but he didn't take anyone with him that'd be good for calming anyone upset to this extent outside of at a stretch Chandelure himself, with Hypnosis— hostilities usually meant either trespassers with ill intent or aggressive Pokemon who'd extended too far out past their usual territories, not—

Not... ]

Ingo? Do... do you know where you are?

[ Ingo focuses on the ghost at the sound of Galarian. He's still a bit rusty, but the time he's spent with the Professor helped quite a bit. He does not run into Zoroark often, per se, but they always spoke broken Galarian as well, no doubt gleaned from fragments of something in his mind the same way they derive their hunting shapes. He wouldn't be shocked to see one speaking it more coherently now. Though - they rarely say anything beyond names and beckoning. Maybe they don't understand human tongues that well, or maybe they just aren't inclined to make conversation. What's all this now? Since when do they bother imitating the way he talks about trains?

His head is pounding, and his heart is racing. Why is it racing like that? This is a reason for alarm, yes, but not panic. Weak prey is easy prey. He knows that, what is wrong with him? He stops withdrawing and draws himself up as tall as he can. ]

I suggest you depart! We will not be such easy quarry!

[ His voice booms and echoes through the tunnels. His tone isn't quite what one would use with another human he suspected of wrong-doing. There's no reason for anger, exactly, and certainly not questioning. A display of power, making noise and perhaps using a few moves, is usually enough to make a wild Zoroark run off, at least when it comes from Pokemon as powerful as his own.

(What are the other two? Will it work on them, too? He can't gather his thoughts about the purple one - he cannot bring himself to look away from the man.)

His Pokemon don't back down, but they do look a bit less aggressive now that their trainer is recovering from the initial scare, or whatever that was. Neither of them uses another move. Machamp moves, though, to try and keep himself blocking Emmet’s view. ]

Edited 2025-09-27 05:33 (UTC)

[ Is that an accent? He can't quite place it, where has...

(Like Machamp, Haxorus, still swaying, moves to maintain a protective guard over her own charges, though at least one of them is probably distinctly less cooperative than Machamp's and capable of levitating, at that.) ]

Quarry? I am not trying to steal anything of yours or— whatever you think we're doing! Wh— where do you think you are?

[ He really shouldn't; regardless of who this is or isn't he should be working to deescalate, to defuse the tensions, but he can't help a frazzled: ]

Who ... who do you think we are?

[ The radio at his hip takes that moment to crackle quietly, startling Emmet briefly away from the confrontation with a soft wince. "white boss? you okay down there? i know chandelure left in a hurry and it's been a little bit, did you guys run into trouble or something?" With a careful eye watching for what peeks he can get of the Machamp and Gliscor past the bulk of Haxorus' shifting scales...

"No, it is— okay. Maintain regular operations, something came up but it is fine. I will return after the situation has been resolved." It's a rapidfire but soft staccato. Hopefully that will keep Furze from getting too fussy; getting anyone else into this will probably not? be helpful? if— their wayward passenger already thinks he's being threatened. ]

[ The voice is the same, but this is a lot more words than Ingo has ever heard it say. He squints into the dark. There's multiple Pokemon standing between them now, and the ghost Pokemon's flames are casting everything in flicking shadows. He never did get a good look at the man's face.

Maybe the Zoroark took that voice from an actual person in his memory? Ingo has always thought it sounded different than his own - though maybe he just hears his own words differently. On the other hand, he's sure he saw white. Of course regular people can wear white, too, but that much of it? He's not sure. This, he knows, is exactly the kind of reaction that gets you killed. You get closer to investigate, you reach out a hand, and -

And. Yet...he's still unsure.

He steps forward, close behind Machamp, to try and peer around him without actually breaking cover. Where's that other voice coming from? Who is he talking to? ]

I think that you are a Zoroark!

[ It doesn't occur to him not to say it. This is the sort of conversation that happens when you spend a lot of time walking alone in the Hisuian wilderness, some of it even looking for lost travelers. ]

[ Well! There's a lot to unpack there. It's progress, at least. It is a direct response?

It is something to focus on for now. Dealing with it for now, unpacking it— later. ]

Okay. And how do I prove that I am not one?

Would you be willing to accept that I am real if I let one of your Pokemon hit me with an attack? [ There's a short, curt huff of breath from the dragon at that, her tail lashing to counterbalance as her head snaps around to watch him stepping out from behind her. There's a moment where she looks as if she might be willing to pick him up by the collar to drag him back again, but in the end she settles for watching the other parties warily, carefully. Drifting out from the shadow of her bulk, Chandelure also lets out a low, hissing trill. ] Nothing too strong! I am only human. Don't exactly have a high defense stat. But it will be enough, right?

[ ... this also serves twofold purpose. He is not entirely convinced he hasn't fallen asleep at his desk again (helped along by a fussy Chandelure, maybe!), that this isn't some imagined scene dreamt up by an overactive mind, spurred on by the approaching 'anniversary' of a certain event. ]

Absolutely not!

[ It would work, but his response is still reflexive. That would be simply irresponsible! But what else is there? Even if his certainty is wavering, the longer this conversation goes on...well, this is still an exact double of him. That’s nothing natural!

More quietly (by Ingo’s standards), switching back to Celestica, he asks: ]

Can either of you smell them?

[ The Pokemon exchange a glance. Neither Gliscor nor Machamp exactly hunts by scent... ]

...let my Alakazam check.

[ What language is that? He has some passing familiarity with some of the more commonly spoken languages of the world, or at least the ones likely to be known by visitors and tourists— enough to introduce himself and offer basic directions in a few of them, but what he manages to catch of that...

(Machamp, Alakazam, Gliscor. Somewhere near ... Johto, maybe? But Zoroark...)

He spreads his hands, palms up, smiling. (It's one of his more guarded ones, but! Anyway.) Nothing in them, see. Not exactly easy to release another Pokemon or signal to either of the two Pokemon already out like this either, so if he gives any commands they'll all hear it. ]

Sure. Tracks are clear. Go right ahead.

[ Ingo's movements are still cautious, but he does step out from behind Machamp slightly, enough to release Alakazam in the group's general direction. She immediately floats backwards from the sight of Emmet, but glancing back at Ingo and then at her teammates seems enough for her to glean the situation without an actual explanation. The vulpine Pokemon lowers herself back to the ground and walks over towards Emmet, her eyes darting between him and the other two Pokemon.

In the end, she sniffs the air in his direction and also stares into his eyes for several long seconds, before just Teleporting back to Ingo. They have a short conversation, in the way that a Pokemon and trainer who have been together for a long time can do. ]

...I see...

[ He probably ought to feel guilty. He does, but it's distant and quiet compared to his disbelief. It all just seems far too convenient. Ingo steps up next to Machamp, with Alakazam hovering at his other shoulder and Gliscor still watching sharply from the other side. He can see the man better from here, which does not exactly make him feel better. ]

Who are you, then?

[ He can't help but let out a small, faintly incredulous-sounding bark of a laugh. That's. Verrrry concerning. Maybe this still isn't real. Maybe he will go along with it, doze off after a point, and wake up back at his desk, or on the break room couch, or at home somewhere.

Maybe he will go along with it, and none of that will happen. Maybe, maybe... It's fine. He has scripts for this, regular patterns and tracks he can follow. ]

I am Emmet. I am a Subway Boss. I like Double Battles. I like combinations of two Pokemon. And I like winning more than anything else.

More importantly. I know how to get to somewhere a little more cozy than this maintenance tunnel! [ he chirps, expression bright. He'll spin on his heel then, though, folding his hands behind him to disguise any shakiness from nerves as he makes his way back to Haxorus and gives her a few affectionate pats past the axe-tusks. Look, see, it is okay now, you can relax. ] But if you are not comfortable following me, then Chandelure can guide you [ home— no, no. do not get your hopes up until you know it is real. Keep talking follow the rules don't focus on it, later— ] to somewhere you can rest instead. You must have had an interesting trip to end up all the way down here. [ And then get pushed basically to the edge of a panic attack and then some by just the sight of them? ] Yep. So you can take a break. Get your bearings. Then there will be time for explanations, and you can figure out what you want to do next.

[ Dragons knows he doesn't, if this is real. Oh, he knows what he should probably do: contact the police, the other appropriate authorities, get all the proper documentation in order, wellness checkups and bills of relative health (a checkup about something specific) ...

But maybe not now. Not for a little while yet. What's the hurry, when they are the ones who closed the case first. No, first on the list is getting maybe-Ingo comfortable, then maybe shuffling a few things around in the schedule for the rest of today to keep the lines running as they should,

and then, if this is real, Emmet can get to that later he's been putting off. ]

Ah - !

[ It's a bit-off exclamation. Ingo doesn't want to interrupt. But as Emmet turns on his heel, Ingo only hesitates a moment before following. His Pokemon follow; perhaps it would be more polite to recall them to their balls, but he's not quite that comfortable yet. ]

Very well. [ To following Emmet or Chandelure? Either or, but he picks up his pace a little, trying to get a better look at the former. He knows his question wasn't answered. He got a name, yes, but Emmet is clearly not some unrelated individual. Because of his looks (which, what on earth?) and also... ] You are the man who likes winning.

[ Gliscor flaps forward to drape himself over Ingo's shoulders, in spite of not fitting all that well, as Ingo leans forward to peer at the apparent human. Ingo bears up under the weight like he's completely used to this! ]

Yep! That is me. [ A glance back over his shoulder, as if checking; still there. Following him. Okay then. Giant vampiric bat-scorpion on his shoulders. Not beating the goth allegations. Really, after Chandelure?

Chandelure, who lets his pace slow enough that his steady drifting back and forth brings him closer to probably-Ingo than otherwise. Well, that is fine too, he deserves it. Haxorus remains closer to Emmet himself still, but also seems noticeably more interested in a closer look now that she's not quite so on guard. Now... ] Oh! Right. Before I forget.

Did you need anything? Food? Are you hurt in any way?

[ Should he be calling a hospital instead of guiding them back to one of the employee only offices, tucked away outside of public view? ]

[ Ingo can tell that he's the object of scrutiny. The man who likes winning, and the Pokemon with purple flames. It must be. Emmet still will not say what their relationship to one another is, but is that really any wonder? It seems like the sort of thing one ought to remember. He tugs the brim of his hat down, avoiding the glances of the two unfamiliar Pokemon. ]

No, no. I'm quite alright, thank you.

[ His head hurts, but there's not much anyone can do about that! ]

Edited 2025-09-28 22:10 (UTC)

[ It's a little bit roundabout, Emmet's taking some of the routes that will avoid passing by anywhere a passing train might see them— but eventually they reach a door he unlocks pretty much on autopilot, and ushers the lot of them all in. Chandelure shows himself in through the wall without fanfare, while Haxorus sort of just minds her tusks as she ducks her way in. ]

There should be enough room for everyone. Can keep them out if you want. Please make yourselves comfortable!

[ Emmet, for his part, bustles around rummaging through the mini-fridge for a couple of chilled berries, which he tosses Haxorus' way— then Chandelure's as well when the ghost trills insistently. It's nominally an office, and really, it is, the adjoining rooms much more clearly so, but the common area before them is fairly cozy looking.

There's seating available, a couple of chairs arranged around the coffeetable in the center, a cozier if somewhat clearly well-used sofa along the wall, as well as cushions and mats along the floor for Pokemon so inclined (though the stray strands of yellow fur left behind by some of the Depot Agents' Raichu and Jolteon might have some static charge to them still).

The coffeepot on the counter he sets to brewing a fresh batch; likely he is. Going to need it. And he'll be sticking around long enough for it to be done, anyway, though maybe he shouldn't be adding the caffeine in on top of the fidgety, nervous energy that's already running through him. Oh well. When he turns back to Ingo, though... ]

Are you okay? Are the lights on too bright?

[ They did just come out of the tunnels; maintenance lighting and Chandelure is a far cry from a normally lit room. ]

[ Ingo files in alongside all of his Pokemon. It feels a little tight to him, but he does prefer keeping them with him. He lifts a hand to shield his eyes as the lights click on, squints up at them for a second, and then turns that squint on Emmet as if he were, perhaps, some sort of Actual Witch. ]

Perhaps they are a tad bright...

[ Alakazam and Machop flank him, guiding him along towards the chairs despite his obvious distraction. Seems like something they're pretty used to doing. ]

Hmm. Easily fixable. Chandelure will be verrrrry happy to help. Just tell him when it is about right.

[ Chandelure chimes in eager agreement, before the immediate area around them in the room starts to slowly darken by degrees. Funny thing about having a ghostly light fixture for a Pokemon is that they can very much adjust the ambient lighting in an area to one's content. Convenient for light sensitivity or eyes still readjusting to not being in the dark.

Ahhh, what now. None of this has gone anywhere near how he'd imagined this would play out, any of many apparently not infinite enough variations and combinations. He wants to approach. He doesn't want to crowd. He wants to ask, he wants to know, he wants...

Emmet folds one of his hands behind him, settling for leaning his weight a little heavily against the back of one of the chairs. Words— not his strong suit in situations like these. 'Welcome back?' Is that what he should say? Did Ingo mean to end up here at all? 'Welcome home?' Well, work— isn't exactly home, is it? 'Where have you been?' Sure. Verrrrry nice. Not demanding or pushy at all. ]

... Welcome back, Ingo. [ A slightly shaky intake of breath. Later, later. Eelektross' Pokeball at his belt vibrates a little, as if chidingly. The hand not folded behind him taps out a short rhythm on the top of the headrest. ] I am happy you ... seem well. Were you just stopping in? You weren't down there for too long before we found you, right?

Ah - no, not terribly long.

[ Ingo remains standing as well, one hand folded behind his back and the other gripping the brim of his hat. He frowns tightly at the floor. He's really not quite sure what to make of any of this! This is not quite how he imagined his trip would go - though, probably a good deal of that is his own fault. But how was he to know the man in white was a real person? And what do his questions mean? Ought he to just be stopping in here? ]

I was...told that I would be sent back to my home station. That does not seem to be quite what happened...?

[ At least, he presumes his home was not down here in these dark tunnels. Perhaps he misunderstood? If so, how far off is he from his actual home station? ]

Mmmm. Not exactly! [ Told? By who? Sent back...? So then, his arrival at this station was something he was intending to do, right? Oh, Emmet is going to be so disappointed if this is not real. It is different and unexpected but this is still better than how some imagined renditions of this meeting have played out. ] This is definitely somewhere you spent a lot of time! And it is in the same city as home is?

But Gear Station is [ was? ] where we work. Home station maybe but not exactly the same as home home. You know.

[ Ingo's usual frown ticks down an inch. He had hoped that Emmet might pick up on the problem without Ingo having to explain himself, but...it doesn't seem like that's happening. Or, at least, he does seem to want the explanation. He straightens as well as he can, ignoring the pull on his bad shoulder. ]

I am terribly sorry, but my memory...derailed, quite some time ago now. I cannot recall what our connection is, exactly?

[ They obviously must be family. That can entail a lot of types of connection, though, right? ]

[ Right. This question. Again, on his hip, Eelektross vibrates an insistent question.

(Later. Later.)

(Right, the line he was pulled away from...) ]

I am Emmet. You are Ingo. We are twin brothers.

[ Ingo straightens; Emmet— shifts his weight and glances away. ]

... I have been looking for you for a while.

But! It turns out you made your own way back in the end. So now, you must have questions. Ask. I am Emmet and I will answer.

Twins...

[ If you'd asked him a minute ago, Ingo feels like he wouldn't have known. But now that he thinks of it - yes, that would explain it, wouldn't it? Was it really a twin he's been seeing all this time, and not some warped reflection at all? That's...that's actually rather worse, in retrospect.

Ingo has questions, of course. So many questions that now, when finally met with someone who might answer them, he utterly blanks. ]

Ah - ! Well...where are we, exactly?

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