“–So I told Magnemite to thunderbolt with everything they had! But it didn't work!” A young boy says, holding his singular pokeball barely above the awaiting tray as he continues his story of how his partner got injured. “So there I was, no idea of what to do, but then –get this– Roy starts monologuing! So I…” Tanya tunes him out as she finally manages to gently coerce the human’s hand into depositing the ball in the tray as Amelia continues to smile and nod, passing the tray off to her partner equally subtly for the ‘mon to place it in the pokecare machine. Doing so, Tanya notes a small pause in the verbal noise as the boy notices what had happened, but quickly continues. In the few short days they’ve been working at the pokecenter, the regulars have already made themselves known, most regular being this boy. A person who, despite not allowing a gap of silence for longer than five seconds, has never given a name or released his singular magnemite within the premises. Pressing the button to activate the machine, the ‘mon watches the ball retract into the machine before it’s bathed in a gentle yellow light. Though the pokecare machine looks complicated, and has a great many safety features and moving parts, the core of the machine is simply a method of replicating a healing move. At first it was templated off a chansey, but over the years and as science moved forward the move template has been slowly modified. Endless updates and iterations artificially modifying the machine reduce power costs, then to better heal status effects or specific kinds of damage. Though it’s all still built off of one of the original templates, the theoretical ‘move’ has ballooned in size and complexity to the point of being impractical for anything but a machine. Something Tanya had looked into after realizing the potential utility of being able to heal as effectively as a pokecare machine by herself, but quickly realized why it’s not done. After a moment longer the machine gives a cheery chime and lifts the ball back out of its slot, quickly snatched away and placed back in the tray by Amelia as she spins around to the boy and holds it out. “Thank you for waiting.” She says abruptly, cutting him off as she forcefully places the ball in his hands. “We hope to see you again.” There’s a beat of silence as the still unnamed boy seems to mentally switch tracks, then smiles as he reclips the ball and powerwalks toward the exit. “Thanks Nurse Joy! See you soon!” “Sir, I’m not a–” She starts, voice resigned, then stops with a sigh as he exits the building before she can finish. “...Not a nurse.” Tanya grabs the pokeball tray and spritzes it with some basic disinfectant before placing it back where it belongs. “If you want him to stop calling you a nurse, you should probably tell him when he enters, before he can get going.” She suggests, placing the antibacterial spray back on the hook it’s supposed to be on. Amelia groans, rubbing her eyes with her palms. “No…” She sighs. “That’s not how it’s done.” After a moment Tanya’s forced to agree. Not for any logical reason, but because it’s clear that the opening little speech she gives to everyone is some kind of tradition, and traditions can make people do silly things. Though in this circumstance it seems to be harmless. “Fair enough.” She muses, smirking as Amelia splays her whole body above the hip across the countertop. “Ughh. My feet hurt…” She groans, then abruptly seems to catch herself, quickly pulling herself back to an upright posture with her hands clasped at the waist. After a moment she glances back at her partner. “...Please don't tell Aunt Vee I did that?” Tanya doesn't respond, straightening some things behind the desk to keep herself busy and try to figure out what she’s supposed to be doing. This is the first time they’ve been assigned to the front counter for longer than a few minutes, typically relegated to cleaning duty under Chansey’s watchful eye, doing basic maintenance, or acting as an extra set of hands during checkups. But this time, when a distressed woman ran in carrying an egg, followed by an equally distressed looking delcatty, Venessa and Chansey quickly told them to man the counter as they herded the newcomers into the examination room. That was over half an hour ago. As if sensing her thoughts, Amelia frowns as she looks at the door they’d left through. “How long does it take to check the health of an egg?” She sighs. “The delcatty looked fine, she was running at least, but… I hope–” She’s interrupted as the door opens and an irritated female voice heralds the previously panicked humans entry. “How can you not know!?” She shouts, staring down at the ‘mon who looks up with a mirrored expression. “What in the world are you doing when you’rein that–” “You’re one to talk about ‘not knowing’ Clare! You didn't even know I was a girl!” Delcatty yowls back, eyes flicking between the human’s face and the egg, now swaddled in a fluffy white towel. “How many years have we lived together!? How could you have not–” “I’m not about to check!” Their argument continues, but Tanya’s attention is drawn to a haggard looking duo of nurses as they follow behind, and as the arguing partners are muffled by the doors shutting behind them Amelia’s attention catches on the nurses as well. “Oh. Aunt Vee you… What happened?” She asks. The nurse gives a tired smile as she fixes her uniform slightly. “Delcatty’s partner thought she was male, so when the ‘mon laid an egg in her bed the human assumed it was stolen.” Tanya blinks as Chansey chimes in. “Her species are generally quite protective of their eggs, more so than the average ‘mon at least.” She says, subconsciously placing an arm on her own egg. “So it was… aggravating for both parties getting the egg here.” There’s a collective silence as the senior nurses try to make themselves presentable, broken as Amelia opens her mouth. Venessa scoffs as she adjusts her hair and hat, frowning at a trio of tears on the hem of her skirt as she brushes it down. “Oh no, I’m just glad it wasnt…” She starts, then pauses as she glances up at Amelia and grimaces. “Glad there weren't any complications.” Amelia doesn't look amused by the obvious self-censoring, but before she can say anything, the nurse continues. “Do both of you mind cleaning up the exam room? It’s a bit of a mess in there right now.” The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. “Taillow! Break off and get height!” Amelia shouts, waving her arms upward as if to lift the bird herself. The ‘mon complies, abandoning his continued attack after successfully raking his claws across his opponents back. Swooping up and pumping his wings higher just as the maril opens his mouth and fires yet another stream of bubbles. Taillow cuts his path in a tight arc around the beam as it chases him, only to dive back in as soon as the beam cuts off and the opposing trainer cries out in alarm. The blue ball tries to jump out of the way, but Tanya tunes the fight out before she sees the result, looking back down at the instructional book on how to perform the move ‘minimize’ as she sits on a nearby park bench. They’ve worked their residency out to be two shifts of three and a half hours in the morning and evening, largely helping set stuff up, then do a deep clean before the night shift comes in. This leaves everything from ten in the morning to seven thirty at night as their own time. At least a few hours of that time is spent where they are now, at the largest public battling park in the city, located just outside of Wattson’s gym. There are other parks, but each public space has its own rules, and this place draws the most trainers alongside having fewest restrictions. Though even here Tanya’s restricted from practicing her egg bombs outside of battle, to avoid unacceptable noise laws with city ordinance. The ‘mon turns the page of her book, carefully looking at the technical description of what the move looks like when viewed in an Auragraph. In their breakdown of Wattson’s battle, the need for something to make her harder to hit was quickly identified as a must. It didn't take much longer to narrow it down to minimize, as it’s something her line has been known to learn repeatedly relatively easy to pick up. Additionally, the move will hopefully also solve her developing… volume issue. Tanya squints down at the tabbed chapter describing how to teach the move, starting from the top and carefully reading each word for the hundredth time since they got the book yesterday. The rather thick book actually has a large variety of training instructionals for various moves, sometimes several separate methods to get the same result, tagged by ‘mon typing and general temperament. Though intended for the trainer, the book has provided some valuable insight on where to start. Unfortunately there’s only one method described in this book and that method is proving… difficult. She’s not sure why she keeps reading the thing, she’s already memorized it, and the advice just isn't helpful. “Hey Chansey?” Amelia calls out. The ‘mon sighs as she closes the book, hops off the bench, and walks toward her partner. “Yes?” She asks, noticing an unconscious Maril cradled by the other human and a puffed up Taillow metaphorically preening in his victory. “You’re up.” The trainer says, gesturing at the two. “You have enough energy to try using the pure soft boiled?” Tanya pokes at the bottomless flow of energy at her core, then nods as she steps up to the unconscious ‘mon first. “Hold him still please.” She requests before pulling love from her core and pressing it into her egg. The rıghtful source is novel★fire.net Normally doing this will literally soft boil the egg, infusing it with healing properties should it be eaten. Which obviously won't work on someone who’s unconscious, but they’d discussed the move’s utility and, the day after the gym battle, she’d asked Chansey to teach the variant of the move that doesn't use the egg. It was surprisingly easy to figure out, though it’s still significantly more power hungry than the example she’s been trying to immitate. Staring down at the blue ‘mon, Tanya squints as she can feel the love trying to change the egg, modifying itself in turn to heal without her input. But as it tries to change the egg, she stops it, mind straining to hold the process at an arbitrary halfway point where the love will heal, but is not infused into the egg. With a bit more effort, she lifts her arms from where they rest on her egg, carrying a ghostly afterimage that dimly flickers in time with her concentration. After a moment it stabilizes enough for her to push it toward the unconscious ‘mon where it sinks into his flesh. With that the ‘mon begins to glow a soft pink as scuffs are –almost violently– wiped away and his eyes open with a panicked gasp. Tanya purses her lips as the ‘mon’s eyes look about wildly and his startled hyperventilation begins to slow as he realizes he’s in the grip of his partner who looks just as –if not more– alarmed as Amelia starts speaking again to smooth things over. For some reason her healing can wake ‘mon from unconsciousness as well as heal, patients displaying symptoms similar to that of someone receiving a large injection of adrenaline to ward off shock. Assured that she’d succeed in healing the ‘mon, Tanya turns back to Taillow and starts the process again. From testing it doesn't seem dangerous, but it is strange, and obviously because she’s doing something wrong. Taillow flinches as the egg sinks into his body too, but less so, and with almost no physiological responses. Another data point. “Thank you Chansey.” Amelia says before looking back at the other human. “You ready to go again!?” Tanya tunes them out again as she walks back to her original spot, closes her eyes, and tries once more to perform minimize. According to the instructions, alongside the relatively easy energy manipulation part, she's supposed to think back on an embarrassing memory that, quote ‘makes the ‘mon want to shrink in on themself until no one can see them anymore.’ Unfortunately, while she understands the idea of such an emotion and the abstract, Tanya can't think of a time when she felt embarrassment strongly enough to want to ‘shrink in’ on herself. Which poses a problem to her ability to learn the move. Unless she figures out an alternate method, or somehow manages to recall a moment where she was that embarrassed, she's stuck. Or she could admit defeat and liquidate some of her assets to buy a TM and inject the move into her brain, which she’s… not exactly a fan of. For both monetary and personal reasons. Gathering power in her core and moving it throughout her body, then trying to compress it back down to her center like the book described, the ‘mon’s eyes flick across the black of her eyelids as she scans her long and slightly faded memory for anything that might match the emotional criteria. She has felt incredibly embarrassed before, at times when she made a major mistake in one thing or another. Though even those times the embarrassment made her want to push harder to solve the issue rather than hide from it. Be that working harder on her job or leaping across the propaganda studio and destroying that camera with her bare hands. Her most extreme memories of embarrassment come secondhand, cringing from the background as she watches someone do something incredibly foolish or stupid, then watching them crash and burn. But even in those moments, she feels more of an impulse to walk up to them, give a slap to the face, and correct the unfolding disaster rather than run away. Perhaps… if she looks at the suggested emotion more as a method to simulate an effect rather than something more literal, she could translate it to something she’s more familiar with… maybe– There’s a flare of energy from her right, approaching, uncomfortably hot like sitting too close to a roaring bonfire. Tanya’s eyes snap open. Clawed hands swiping in a half scratch-half punch. Backstep, then move in to counter overextension and negate the opponent's reach advantage. Instead he carries momentum through the hips and efficiently transfers the energy into a kick. Compress bulk out of the kick arc, feathers crackling like a burning log and leaving a trail of sparks in its wake. Capitalize on unbalanced posture by going for a grapple to the wing while telekinetically pulling the dirt away from under the remaining foot. Not wings, arms, which pull toward the core to increase angular momentum as the other leg leaps off the ground before she can get a grip on the soil, sending out anotherkic– Tanya strains to keep her feet as the kick sends her sliding backward and singes her arms, for what little good blocking did with them being so short. Coming to a stop, she shakes out her limbs and tracks her eyes along the furrow in the grass until she comes to its source. “...Combusken.” She says simply, watching the ‘mon seem to almost vibrate with pent up energy as he stares back at her. “What a surprise. How have you been–” “What are you doinghere!?” He squawks, grass around his feet blackening as Tanya notes his partner sprinting at them from behind. “Why aren't you at your– your chansey thing!?” Tanya blinks, a realization forming as she watches the bird struggle to wait for an answer instead of leaping across the space to continue the fight. …he’d left before they’d decided to go on a journey. Didn't he? This is going to be interesting.