[center]Collab between [@Thundercrash] and [@Sickle-cell][/center] The gym was completely silent, save for the dull thudding of fists on fabric intermixed with pants and grunts of exertion. The sole occupant stood off in a corner, her focus entirely fixated on the punching bag in front of her; all others had long since vacated the room (she had warned the staff at least that it would be getting a little warm). When she had first come in, barely anyone had paid attention to her, though a few interested looks had been directed at the markings on her legs. More attention was paid when she shrugged off her jacket, revealing the same markings on her arms, identifying her as the Avatar of Groudon. Even more attention, along with a few disapproving looks, came her way when she pulled off her t-shirt and shorts. At that point, Rebeca was nearly beyond the point of caring. Instead, she proceeded to set up a bag and went to town on it; if anybody had a problem with an Avatar training in her underwear, they didn’t stick around long enough to complain, especially not after the gym turned into a sweat lodge from their perspective. After everyone had left, and she had been given a polite request from the staff to not set the place on fire, her panties had followed the way of the rest of her clothes (they were pretty old and not the right kind for training, and so had been giving her a wedgie). So that was how Drystan found her, beating up her third punching bag in nothing but a sports bra she had picked up the previous day, hair tied back in a Ponyta tail with a piece of wire she had found and her face twisted in such murderous determination that one would be forgiven for thinking the punching bag had done her some great injustice. Nearby laid the remains of the previous two punching bags that had split open beneath the intensity of her assault. Pale white light glowed around her fists and knees, and the markings on her skin glowed a dim red. A sharp note split the air as one of the chain links holding up the bag split in half, dropping it into the pile of sand that was pooled beneath it. Blowing a stray piece of hair out of her face, she tossed the broken pieces aside and lifted the bag back onto the hook. [color=crimson]”I’m not interested!”[/color] “[color=00aeef][b]I think she means you, my host,[/b][/color]” Dialga said, light humour colouring his words. Drystan smiled. “[color=00aeef]Maybe we should see this through, it might be an enlightening conversation,[/color]” he replied to the Legend, internally. “[color=00aeef]Well, I must disagree. I’m yet to open my mouth, for all you know, I’m a punchbag retailer looking to give you a discount. Although I’m not sure i’d be comfortable leaving them in your care.[/color]” Rebeca simply grunted as she readied her stance, and she resumed her beating. [color=crimson]”You’ve been staring at me for the past. Ten. Minutes!”[/color] After only a few blows, the bag decided to throw in the towel like its brothers, spilling its sandy guts onto the pile below. Wiping the sweat off her brow, she slipped the half-empty bag off the hook and tossed it onto the others before walking across the room to stand in front of the newcomer, the glow of her markings radiating waves of heat. [color=crimson]”I am not. Interested.”[/color] From deep within, a sense of unease grew the closer the figure - now identifiable as a woman - became. The man felt Dialga do the human equivalent of swallowing hard. “[color=00aeef][b]That’s not Heatran.[/b][/color]” Tattoos flaring, there was no mistake about who this Avatar embodied. Also that she was nearly naked, although that had no factor in how blisteringly hot the area became. Drystan took his hat off and began to fan himself with it. “[color=00aeef]Ouch. That poor, defenseless punch bag,[/color]” he said, chuckling. “[color=00aeef]Very perceptive, although with the upcoming event, we may find ourselves facing off soon. You might not be interested, but I most certainly am.[/color]” Taking a moment to look the woman up and down, he casually remarked, “[color=00aeef]Do you often make a habit of punching holes in things, in a public place, in the nude?[/color]” Snorting, she rolled her eyes as she turned her back on him and went to grab another bag. [color=crimson][i]Great. Another wiseass.[/i] “Don’t hold your breath. You’re not my type.”[/color] This would probably be her last one; if she broke anymore she’d probably need to hand over another chunk of gold. [color=crimson]”When they piss me off enough, not often, and often. What’s it to you?”[/color] [i]Not my…Oh,[/i] he thought, finally catching on. [i]That’s her first assumption?[/i] Rolling wisps of laughter echoed around his head. “[color=00aeef][b]In case it has gone un-noticed, Groudon’s Avatar is rather [i]scantily-dressed[/i]. Is that not the way of you mortals?[/b][/color]” Drystan scowled darkly at no-one in particular. “[color=00aeef]How many times? We communicate telepathically, do [i]not[/i] read my thoughts. Nothing is sacred with you, I swear.[/color]” With his legend’s questionable insinuations quashed, attention could now be returned to the woman. Raising an eyebrow at her rather remarkable tattoos, tracking their lines brought a sense of familiarity, likely borrowed from Giratina. “[color=00aeef]Curiosity, that’s all. I was late to the party, and am working recon on the present Avatars. Some pretty nasty stuff went down lately, after all.[/color]” [color=crimson]”Mmh.” [i]Can’t argue with that I guess.[/i][/color] Looking over the array of bags, she shrugged and turned around, the glow of her markings fading as she crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the wall. [color=crimson]”So, which one are you? The Avatar of wisecracks and smart-aleckry?”[/color] “[color=00aeef]Worked out like a master detective, that was,[/color]” he declared with a chuckle. “[color=00aeef]Arceus couldn’t afford to lose me, the world would be such a boring place.[/color]” The last few words were given an effeminate, dramatic flair for emphasis. Rebeca simply gave him a flat expression, unimpressed. [color=crimson]”Try again.”[/color] Having become slightly more accustomed to the heat, he replaced the hat atop his head before fetching out a packet of cigarettes. “[color=00aeef]Alas, I wasn’t trying to impress you. Since I know yours, I guess it’s only fair to disclose my own. Drystan Graye, Avatar of Dialga, last I checked.[/color]” Fishing around for the box of matches, a smirk appeared. “[color=00aeef]Say, do you just produce massive heat, or could I borrow you for a light?[/color]” She grunted. [color=crimson]”Tweedledumb #1, got it.”[/color] She pushed away from the wall and pulled off her bra, dropping it into the bag she had found with the rest of her clothes and headed towards the showers. [color=crimson]”I was asked not to set the whole place on fire, so no.”[/color] [i]Plenty of fire, with little control. Not a shocking revelation, as they go,[/i] he thought, thumbing out a match. Following her over, he leaned against the wall outside, and raised the volume of his voice several tones. “[color=00aeef]I’d introduce you to Tweedledee, but I’m not entirely sure where she has run off too. Perhaps buying shoes, or taking in the sights.[/color]” Igniting the cigarette, Drystan filled his lungs full of smoke, and smiled contentedly. “[color=00aeef]It is so hard to find good help these days, although she’d kill me if she heard that.[/color]” [color=crimson]”Funny. I was under the impression that “she” was Tweedledumb #2,”[/color] she commented wryly as she turned the shower on, stepping under the spray. “[color=00aeef]Maybe to others, but we aren’t all the similar. Friends for a-[/color]” Drystan paused, before reconsidering the sentence. “[color=00aeef]Friends is a strong term. We have put up with one another for a long time, but draw similarities like that between us at your peril.[/color]” He smiled for his own benefit. “[color=00aeef]She’s not fond of it.[/color]” Rebeca snorted again. [color=crimson]”I’ll keep that in mind, I’ve only had one opinion to draw on, and he didn’t exactly give you a glowing review.”[/color] She unwrapped the wire from around her hair, moving into the change room to drop it into the bag before stepped back under the shower spray. Dropping ash on the floor, he banged his head against the wall, staring at the ceiling before taking another drag. “[color=00aeef]Who was that, then? Giratina badmouths me a lot, and I know he’s in the city, so perhaps that’s a stupid question.[/color]” Dialga clearly began taking notice of the idle chatter, suddenly, listening in. “[color=00aeef]I’d advise against listening to idle chatter. Giratina was dealt a bad hand, but he chose to pick it up. Of all the people I suspect would understand that, you strike me as one. Life's a bitch, so do you complain about it, or get even?[/color]” Again, she stepped out of the shower and into the change room, looking at him critically. [color=crimson]”A few million years is a heckuva bad hand, coming from one of the two who apparently helped deal it to him. I can see why one would want to get even.”[/color] Her voice was devoid of emotion, almost as though she was bored of the conversation. “[color=00aeef]Don’t lump me in with this. Dialga and Palkia set him up countless millennia before I was even born.[/color]” [color=crimson]”Well, since you’re apparently suggesting that you’re the middle man now…”[/color] The familiar ethereal presence of Dialga could be felt swirling around his consciousness. “[color=00aeef][b]Sometimes, my host, it is impossible to tell when humans are being sharp or dense.[/b][/color]” He chuckled audibly at the Legend’s comment. “[color=00aeef]Do you feel misrepresented? Shall I pass on a message?[/color]” “[color=00aeef][b]Don’t be facetious.[/b][/color]” “[color=00aeef]They were all equally to blame, or so I’m led to believe. Giratina allowed himself to be caught, it’s his fault. Avoiding blame is easy.[/color]” He flashed her a winning grin. “[color=00aeef]I’ve been doing it my whole damn life.[/color]” Rebeca’s eyes narrowed. [color=crimson]“Right. At least he’s willing to admit that much. I’m more inclined to admit to what’s mine, at least then I can say that it was my choice.”[/color] She walked back into the shower, running her hands through her hair. [color=crimson]”So what do you really want.”[/color] “[color=00aeef]But of course,[/color]” he replied. “[color=00aeef]Admitting blame is half the fun. Doing something without getting credit is pointless.[/color]” Taking another puff of the cigarette, he turned to directly face her. “[color=00aeef]Not everyone agrees with every possible manner of entertainment, do they?[/color]” [color=crimson]”Get to the point.”[/color] Drystan’s face became a blank slate. “[color=00aeef]They say the best way to get to know someone is through combat.[/color]” He left a few seconds before he continued. “[color=00aeef]People can’t hide who they truly are when they fight. I didn’t see much from that distance - especially through the heat, but I picked up enough. Do you want to know what I saw?[/color]” Rebeca shut off the shower and stepped back into the change room, leaning against the wall, waiting. Taking that as a cue, he dropped the cigarette to the floor, stomping it out. “[color=00aeef]We are more alike than you can imagine. How many battles have you fought?[/color]” Tilting her head, she glanced at the rows of lockers. [color=crimson]”Battles, or fights?”[/color] “[color=00aeef]Slip of the tongue. Actual fights. Not legitimate battles. Narrow it down even further. How many fights have you been in, with your life hanging in the balance?[/color]” The look Rebeca gave the man was scathing enough to curdle Miltank milk, and she gestured down her body. Scanning the scars running across her body once more, he nodded. “[color=00aeef]Quite impressive. Scars can come from anything however. Even playful scraps. How many times has your life been on the line, directly? I’m willing to wait for the answer,[/color]” he said, smiling. Scowling, she folded her arms over her chest. [color=crimson]”More than I would like. Sometimes others don’t know how to take a hint to leave well enough alone.”[/color] “[color=00aeef]There we go, giving a straight answer wasn’t so hard, was it?[/color]” [color=crimson]”Since you seem to have so much trouble getting straight to the point, you would know.”[/color] Drystan’s face lit up. “[color=00aeef]I started this by saying we were similar, after all, but that’s besides the point.[/color]” Glancing briefly at the raw, destructive power of Groudon - evident from all the little piles of sand around - he saw nothing but potential. Not [i]wasted[/i] potential, not exactly, merely unrealised. “[color=00aeef]Question one is ticked off then. I’m willing to wager you have left quite a few people beaten and bruised. Chances are, some might have even been worse off than that. Am I far off the mark?[/color]” [color=crimson]”You do like the sound of your own voice, don’t you.”[/color] “[color=00aeef]Yes,[/color]” came the flat answer. “[color=00aeef]Did that question strike a nerve? Ducking the question will only get you so far, I can be rather persistent.[/color]” Pushing away from the wall, Rebeca took slow steps until she was standing directly in front of him. [color=crimson]”I don’t get the feeling that you’d apologize if it did. I’m still waiting to hear why you are so interested. I dunno if you’ve noticed, but I’m not much a people person, and I haven’t had the greatest couple of days.”[/color] Sensing the growing tension Dialga felt it necessary to intervene. “[color=00aeef][b]Are you going somewhere with this, host? If not, we might not live to see the tournament - and that’s potentially setting a record for pissing someone off you have just met.[/b][/color]” “[color=00aeef]Relax,[/color]” he replied, bitterly. Drystan didn’t flinch from her presence, as much as his common sense - and legend - screamed for him to. “[color=00aeef]My interest stems from meeting an Avatar I can understand on a base level. Palkia’s an exception. Our legends share a bond, reading her is child’s play. The same can be said for you. Here comes the point, but let it be on record that I was trying to stagger this out.[/color]” “[color=00aeef]”Violence is the last refuge of the incompetent.” That might even be true - I’ve never bothered with trying any other solution. But it feels [i]good[/i]. What did you feel, after winning those fights? Leaving an opponent battered, broken - worse,[/color]” he said, drawing particular attention to the last word. “[color=00aeef]A sense of power, perhaps. Getting drunk on that is easy. The more decisive the win. Do you disagree? [/color]” Tone deathly serious, Drystan leveled the question with a slight more of an edge that he had intended. For a long moment, Rebeca looked right into the man’s eyes. And she didn’t like what she saw there. [color=crimson]”And I thought I was bad with people.”[/color] Turning away, she grabbed her bag and started putting on her clothes. [color=crimson]”Like I said, not interested.”[/color] Shouldering the bag, she left him behind. [color=crimson]”I don’t pick fights anymore.”[/color] “[color=00aeef][b]She didn’t turn us into sludge. Am I missing something?[/b][/color]” Dialga asked, feeling somewhat left out of the loop. “[color=00aeef]You mean apart from the detailed knowledge of human interactions? This is the reason you allow me complete control,[/color]” the man replied, sending a mental wink to his companion. After leaving just enough time between the woman leaving and him following to draw doubt into whether or not he actually would, Drystan emerged from the changing rooms, footsteps echoing around the barren gym. “[color=00aeef]Humour me with an answer to one final question,[/color]” he shouted. “[color=00aeef]Then you are free to leave with the clear consciousness of a job wrapped up, not left to stew. Did you think I was judging you?[/color]” She paused, then turned around. [color=crimson]”And why would I think that?”[/color] “[color=00aeef]Because then i’d be the same as [i]everyone else![/i][/color]” The words echoed around the room. Rebeca just shook her head, smiled, and left. [color=crimson][i]Why do I keep attracting the crazy ones.[/i][/color] “[color=00aeef][b]She’s leaving,[/b][/color]” Dialga chimed in, as the man completely ignored him. “[color=00aeef][b]She is walking away. Aaaaaaaand she’s gone. You’ve lost her. Shame, that seemed to be going… not awfully?[/b][/color]” Drystan fished out his premium cigar, lighting it as several bewildered onlookers began to re-enter the now cooling training gym, wondering what all the shouting was about. The legend - noting the celebratory special occasion cigar - grumbled in unease, but said nothing, before they began to make their way back to the main hall, leaving a thick smoke trail behind.