Chapter Text
“Piers?! No way!”
“‘ey, Lee— guh.” Before Piers could even come to a full stop, Leon had barreled over and captured him in a full embrace. Had he gotten even more muscular since becoming chairman? What the hell was his routine, and why was it working so well?? Pushing these thoughts aside, Piers laughed breathlessly before patting his friend on the back with his free hand. “Always good t’ see ya.”
Raihan, thankfully, made a much smoother entry. “Piers~~” His voice was lilting and flirty. When Piers looked up at him, he could see the twinkle in those teal eyes. He was far better at holding in his excitement, but only through his actions. It was so easy to see it in his expression and to feel it in the air practically vibrating around him.
Piers opened out his arm to invite him in. “C’mere.”
He didn’t need to say it twice, but Raihan still pretended to mull over the offer anyway. He pouted his lips cutely in thought before shrugging and stepping in close. Despite his comparably lankier frame to Leon, he had a surprising grip to him. Piers tried to give back as good as he got, but honestly, he was a bit outnumbered and, thus, easily outhugged. Plus, it didn’t help that his other arm was trapped between his body and Leon’s. Whatever — he was just happy to be here. Small discomforts be damned.
This long missed proximity to his packmates had him purring, which the other two gladly returned. Leon pressed his face against the crook of Piers’ neck just to breathe in his scent while Raihan rubbed their cheeks together. This was nice. This was exactly what he had been missing on the road. Piers let his eyes fall closed as he basked in their warmth and the low sounds of their purrs in his ears. He knew that, once they had a free time, the two would drag him up into either of their rooms for a proper reunion. And while that would have meant exchanging scents, which he was completely down and ready for, that also meant he would sport a whole host of new bites and bruises he would have a tough time hiding. He missed a out the controversy such a flagrant display of pack-claiming that would cause as Leon lifted his head to nuzzle the scent gland just underneath his jaw.
Piers chuffed at him as he nudged his head against Leon’s. “Steady now,” he said, his influence and pure dropping his voice to a lower pitch. He uncurled a finger to rub it against Leon’s chest. “We’re in public, love.”
Leon’s only reply was a pouty chuff in response, and Piers laughed.
They didn’t stay like that for much longer, despite the clear desire to. Once they separated, Piers shook out the arm Leon had pinned while Raihan clapped him on the shoulder and gave a fond squeeze.
“How’ve you been?”
“Fuckin’ tired all the time, sore as hell, and a little hungover.”
“Staying up until the wee hours of the morning, barely getting enough sleep, and rocking out all night long?” Leon teased.
“Rinse and repeat.”
Raihan’s voice went soft with adoration as he asked, “But you wouldn’t have it any other way, huh?”
Piers smiled at the both. “You already know.”
The three of them shared a laugh, but a few seconds later, Piers remembered something very important on his person: the vinyl bag he had brought along. He had to curl up a leg to balance the bag, which he pulled open with a smirk.
“Hol’don— I got presents for ya.”
“Presents?” Leon asked excitedly. He took a step to be nosy, but Piers just as quickly snapped up his hand, touched three fingers against the Chairman’s forehead, and then pushed him back again. Raihan snorted a laugh.
Afterward, Piers pulled out a small, palm-sized Aegislash statue and handed it over to Leon. He then gave Raihan a circle case about an inch thick full of CDs. Both men perked up at their offerings. Piers nodded his head at Raihan’s gift.
“Took the better part of a year to get all’a that for ya. Better enjoy it, Rai.”
“Ooh? What’s this?”
“A big ol’ collection from bands I’ve met. I also hunted down som’a yer old school faves and made some mix CDs.” He shrugged a touch dismissively at himself. “Thought ya might like it.”
“I love it, and I haven’t even listened yet.” Raihan tucked the CD case into the pocket of his stylishly oversized hoodie. “Thanks, mouse.”
Leon turned over his Aegislash statue as he took in all of the details. He crooned softly in appreciation. “And I love this. It’s amazing, Piers, thank you.”
Piers glanced around casually with his eyes to check their surroundings before focusing on his companion again. “It’s got a little secret too.”
“Oooh?” came the curious noise from both Leon and Raihan.
“You’ll have to use yer nail, but you can pop open that shield. If you ever feel that Alpha bite in the back of yer head, it’s got a little something to take the edge off.”
At this point, all three of them looked around as Leon said, “What? Piers. You know I have to be of sound mind and sharp focus on the job…” He leaned forward to check for someone in particular (who, Piers didn’t know), but when he didn’t spot them, he mouthed Thank you before tucking the statue into the inner pocket of his blazer.
“Anything else in there?” Raihan asked, tilting his head.
“Nosy, both of ya.” Piers rolled his eyes, but he lifted the bag and patted the underside. “Just a bit of this an’ that for a few others. If I don’t see ‘em here, I’ll just send it by post.”
Leon twisted back to take in the entirety of the room. “I think just about every Gym Leader in Galar’s here, actually. They’re just…” He wiggled his fingers outward with a thoughtful frown. “...scattered everywhere.”
“Good t’ know. ‘m not in any rush either way.”
Raihan hummed softly, but right as the noise turned into any purr, it stopped just as a thought came to him suddenly. “Wait. Here’s an important question: are you just here to spectate and get our hearts all pounding, or…?”
There was a brief moment of silence. Then, a slow, soft heart-shaped smile curved Piers’ lips. “Ya really wanna know?”
“If you’re here to compete, I’ll have to tell the organisers and—”
Piers interrupted Leon before his thoughts could get away from him. “Don’ worry about it, Lee. If there’s anythin’ for you to do, I’d tell ya. For now, focus on whatever ya got goin’ on right now, alright?”
“But...”
“Don’t. Worry.”
“I… Right. Okay.” Leon took in a deep breath before exhaling and then nodding. “Okay,” he said again. “I trust you.”
Three simple words. It had been a while since he’d heard that from someone he trusted; it sent a pleasant chill through his body. The best, and really only way, he could respond was to take Leon’s hand, step in, and run the gland under his jaw against the side of Leon’s neck. They echoed each other’s soft purrs at the contact. Though he didn’t point it out, he noticed how much straighter Leon stood with pride, and Piers smiled to himself. He knew it was silly to think, but it was nice to know that they hadn’t forgotten him and that they, in fact, still relished his presence.
Piers drew back and met his packmate’s eyes. “Thanks.”
Leon’s smile said it all, but still, he softly responded, “Any time.”
But as they were having this moment together, something felt off behind Piers. Something, or hopefully someone, was coming. The mere acknowledgement of it in his mind was enough to make the fine hairs on the back of his neck stand up. His expression became more severe as his attention shifted towards this anomaly. It was hard to say what kind of threat this was, what kind of danger it posed, or if this was even something to be so on edge about in the first place, but logic was taking a hard backseat to his territorial nature diving in to take the wheel. His sharp brows lowered, and he turned slowly in the direction of the newcomer.
Newcomers. Plural. Piers’ movements felt automatic as he moved to place himself in front of Leon and Raihan as if to shield them from the five individuals coming their way. Visually, they weren’t an unappealing group. It’d be understandable for anyone to be towed by the intimidating united front. The five were all well-dressed with matching berry-toned shirts and thematically similar ties. They even walked in lockstep, which Piers had to respect. There was a clear air of importance, but it wasn’t their appearance, their shared presence, or the (probably accurate) assumption that these folks moved in dangerous circles that stoked the Alphaic fires in Piers’ mind.
During this silent approach, Piers tried to parse exactly what his hindmind was picking up on. The first was the most obvious: the off-putting aura. It was as if something was watching him just outside of his field of vision. He knew that it was Leon and Raihan were the only people behind him, and yet it felt like there was this invisible third thing slowly creeping towards him, ready to pounce. He took a long blink and steadied himself. He managed to keep himself from springing when the leader of the group spoke. In other circumstances, he might have mentally pat himself on the back for such marvelous display of self-control, but this didn’t feel right. He felt primed for a street fight. Not for meeting another trainer...
“Pardon our intrusion. I just wanted to formally greet the champions of Galar,” said the black-haired leader. It had to be him, right, who was giving off that ominous energy. It could’ve just as easily been a collective oppression, but there was something uniquely singular to that predatory feeling still pressing against him.
Piers took a good look at this man. His eyes weren’t as vibrant a gold as Leon’s, more in the deep age of an old coin, but they were no less sharp. His voice was low and smooth. It might’ve even been soothing to anyone who wasn’t a packmind. Piers, unaware of how much taller he was standing, shoved a hand onto his hip as he stared down at the... Hm. He wasn’t exactly sure what alignment he was dealing with here. It was familiar but not. There was something just slightly off about the person before him. The others were masking, that much was clear, and that was an issue in and if itself. But even if he wanted to, he couldn’t reasonably allow himself to break eye contact.
“Former Champions,” he corrected, but the leader didn’t seem discouraged.
A gloved hand waved. “Current or former, prestige is still prestige. Your reputations proceed you all for a great number of reasons. You’ve surely earned your places among the top three, and seeing you all here is nothing short of a pleasure.”
Piers had gotten better at managing his self-disparaging comments over the past few months, but hearing praise from a stranger made him want to bite back. Instead, the only thing he bit was his tongue, and he pointedly stayed silent. Leon, thankfully, rounded the Alpha to reach out a hand to the other man.
“I’m Leon as I’m sure you know! Former Champion and current Galar region Chairman. I’ll be co-hosting the event.”
“Charmed.”
As they shook hands, Leon put on his best boy-next-door laugh before sheepishly saying, “I’m still new to these international events. I’m trying to remember your name, but I’m so bad with faces. You seem like someone I’ve met before.”
Piers immediately knew that was a lie as did Raihan. If anything, Leon was the best out of all of them when it came to remembering other people. If he failed with a face, he had different ways of keeping them in his memories: a voice, a personal tick, a handshake. A slightly sour scent. Was anyone else noticing it? Were his packmates also being negged by that strange aura in the air? How were their own instincts reacting from this invisible onslaught of sensations from the not-quite-Alpha figure in front of them?? Piers quickly schooled his face to hide the frustration building inside of him. This wasn’t his territory by any stretch of the imagination so he couldn’t be outwardly hostile, but this person was setting him on edge. It was so damned hard to shake…
Even when he was in his prime, it was rare for other Alphas set him off through sheer presence alone. He had always been more of the reactionary type, he’d tell you that for free. If another Alpha every tried anything against him, he’d give as good as he got and then pay them back again tenfold. He had other ways of getting out his Alpha needs and aggression, and because of that, it was more likely other packminds triggered the immense protective desire inside of him. But here, right now, it was surprisingly difficult to suppress his knee jerk reaction to fight. The other packmind-of-strange-alignment broke through that growing haze when he replied,
“Corbeau, a mere local myself.”
A mere local. Ha. Piers highly doubted it. If he had to guess, this was someone with some level of power in the city. It was in the way he moved, the way he spoke, and the way he carried himself. Plus, no run-of-the-mill resident had an entourage quite like this. Piers would have dated to call them bodyguards, but the dynamic felt... off in a way. Maybe that was just conjecture on his end, but this had all the smatterings of a pack to him. He ground his teeth to fight down another urge to growl. All that aside, Piers knew from extensive personal experience that very few people, packmind or mundane, carried the same kind of quietly commanding aura as this so-called “mere local.”
“Oh, c’mon! Don’t sell yourself short! We’re sure you’re much more than that!” Leon, ever glowing man that he was managed to diffuse much of Piers’ anxiety. Piers wondered if he knew what a boon he was. “But ‘Corbeau’... What an interesting name. I like it! And what brings you over to us?”
“First of all, thank you kindly, Leon.” The repeat of his name carried influence. Piers caught the faint shudder that passed over Leon’s shoulders, but he could imagine the unaffected smile, even as he casually shook out his arms. “Secondly, I just wanted to take it upon myself to welcome you all while I make my rounds. Networking and all that — I’m sure you’re painfully aware of that song and dance.”
Leon smiled, though it came out as more of a grimace. “I’ll admit: it wasn’t as bad when I was still a regular trainer. Now that I’m chairman, it’s a bit more…” He trailed off here. Wisely, he decided to curb his complaining and shoved aside that line of thought with a laugh. “It’s certainly different, let’s just say that.”
“Let’s,” Corbeau agreed with a sly smile. He then glanced past Leon to lock eyes with Piers and Piers alone. The Dark-type trainer tensed, and every fine hair bristled at the eye contact. Nothing was happening, and yet he felt like he was being challenged. In a blink, Corbeau was looking back at Leon. “I’m sure you know how it is.”
Beneath his heightened aggression, there was a sense of curiosity that could be matched with the same fervour. Piers was big enough to admit that. Once he managed to calm down, maybe he’d pull Corbeau aside and pick him apart, really take the time to know what made the man tick. He highly doubted he’d figure out the mystery behind the man’s strange alignment, but he was willing to invest the time. It wasn’t like him to be so out and out curious, but he had already treaded new territory in such a short amount of time. What was one more trek at this point?
“Heh! More than you may realise, friend, but it’s always good to meet new faces!”
Good ol’ Leon. It honestly didn’t matter what alignment he was most of the time; he had this vibrant energy about him that it made it easy for him to make friends. His welcoming nature broke down even the most persistent of internal guards. True to form, even Corbeau seemed a bit charmed by him. It could’ve been just the bias of knowing him, but Piers did see a distinct change in the other man’s posture bit by bit. Plus, whatever ominous aura was in the air was starting to lighten up in equal measure. Piers felt like he was finally able to breathe. When the two squeezed each other’s hands one final time before parting, it all seemed amicable enough.
Corbeau adjusted his tie. “I look forward to seeing any of you on the pitch. Perhaps all three of you, if we could be so lucky.”
This time, Raihan was the one who spoke up, “We do love a good show. We’ll see how things work out.” He smiled, purposefully showing his elongated fang — which looked notably sharper, Piers noticed when he glanced up at the Omega. “Try not to strike out early, yeah?”
Corbeau gave a low laugh in response, raising a brow as he skimmed over all of them. “I’ll do my best not to disappoint.”
With that, the questionable “Alpha” and his entourage left. The Galar trio watched them go, and once they seemed reasonably out of earshot, Leon and Raihan turned to Piers. Without hesitation, they both asked,
“Are you okay?”
Piers’ brows shot up. “Me?”
“Yeah, your aura felt all wrong. Made my shoulders feel all tight.” Raihan frowned and rolled one of his arms. Leon shook out his arms, similarly trying to relieve tension as he looked over his shoulder in the direction Corbeau had gone.
“He’s probably harmless, but… I’ve never met an Alpha like that before.”
“Don’t think he’s harmless,” both Raihan and Piers added.
“I don’ even think he’s an Alpha either, if I’m bein’ honest with ya… There’s jus’. I dunno. There’s somethin’ off about ‘im, but that’s not really somethin’ we should be worryin’ about right now.”
Leon sighed hard. “You’re right.” He placed his hands on his hips; he ducked his head with a gentle shake. “I can’t lose focus. Still though…” He then turned his best puppy eyes onto Piers, who gently lowered his gift bag onto the floor before cupping Leon’s face.
“‘m fine, ya big softie. Really.” He squished his packmate’s cheeks fondly. The air slightly shifted when Leon gently held his wrists and met his eyes. There was a sudden gem-like glow in that golden stare.
“He kept looking at you.”
Ah, of course. Silly as Leon may act at times, he could be frightfully observant. Piers turned his head slightly to look up at Raihan, who was already staring down at him. He noticed Corbeau’s behaviour as well, no surprise there. Even if they didn’t consciously pick up on his finer quirks, it was a bit flattering, in a sense, for Piers’ little pack to be so protective of him. That could easily be chalked up to Alpha pride or whatever, but c’mon. What could be more reassuring than that? He preened a little bit from the slight ego boost (and didn’t exactly try to hide it either).
He squeezed Leon’s face again. “Yer gonna make me blush. Both’a ya. Y’know I can take any Alpha just fine, even on their home turf. ‘m made of tougher stuff.” He pulled back, adding, “Much as I love ya frettin’ over me, you two need to focus on yer exhibitions, yeah? Don’ let this little thing distract ya. ‘s probably why he came over here in the first place: to get into yer head.”
Raihan shoved both hands into his pockets and sighed heavily, throwing his head back. “Augh, you’re right. You’re right.” After a pause, he looked over at Leon. They didn’t say anything, but Piers could practically feel the slew of words flying over his head between them. Whatever they decided, they were clearly on the same wavelength if their smiles were anything to go by. “Guess that means we just have to be on our A-game, right, Leon?”
“More like S-plus, huh?”
Raihan barked out a laugh before stepping closer to his packmates. “That’s exactly it!” He hooked an arm around Leon’s neck and said to Piers, “If we’re to focus on our thing, then you should finish making your rounds.”
“Ha, yer right. Probably should…” He snatched up his bag, looked around to see where his other friends were, and then let his gaze fall upon the others again. They lingered just a bit longer to see him off, and Piers gave them a soft smile. “Knock ‘em dead out there.”
Raihan tilted his head. “Of course.”
Leon pointed a thumb at his own chest. “I’ll give ‘em a fighting chance first!”
Piers snorted and curved a hand against his mouth as he looked away. “Fair’s fair, right?”
Finally, after a wave from Raihan, the pair set off to finish what they needed to do. Piers stood there watching them with a warmth in his chest and a deep fondness. He had only been gone a year, but it felt like ages. The familiar smiles, the shared scents, even the tone of their voices… These were small treasures that he didn’t expect to miss so dearly while he was on the road. And his sister was around here somewhere. Seeing her was going to tear right into him, he just knew it… Piers sighed and pulled himself together. He curled and uncurled his fingers, bouncing the bag in his grip as he delayed the inevitable, and then he turned away to go seek out his Galar kin. All said, his vacation was off to a great start. Well, there was that strange encounter earlier, but he was trying pretty hard not to think about that….
“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, those outside and in-between, get ready for the show of a lifetime! Galar punks, your Prince of Darkness is here—!!”
Ah. Piers didn't think he would miss this so much. The crowd went wild as smoke began to pour over the astroturf. The house light slowly dimmed, and the spotlights grew brighter as they focused on a center point. Screams and cheers and various professions tumbled over each other in a breathless storm of excitement. Piers’ heart raced as the sounds washed over the entrance above his head.
“He has a lot of heart because he’s stolen all of yours!” (Here, Piers laughed and shook his head.) “He’s bad all the way down to his bones; his songs will move your soul, but his moves will crush you! He’s a trainer who believes in the raw talent of his team, no artificial Gigantimax flavourings here!”
The platform began moving under Piers’ feet. He cracked his neck left and right before taking his pose as he rose.
“Offer up your souls, beg for forgiveness, or eat your heart out—! Whatever you gotta do, give it up for the one! The only ! The unquestionablllllllllle Piers! From! Spikemuth!”
As soon as Piers’ head breached the trick opening, the roaring was absolutely deafening. It was enough to send a chill down his spine. If the way Raihan and Leon acted earlier inflated his Alphaic ego, then this was almost enough to completely shift him into the full force of his alignment. Piers rolled his head slowly and took in a breath through his nose as he made a full rotation. Once his head was forward again, he opened his eyes, revealing the almost otherworldly light hues to the stadium audience.
“I bet his opponent is already shaking, but there’s no going back! You can’t outrun your own shadow, now ain’t that right!”
There went the crowd again, causing Piers to smirk at their fervour. He made a mental note to track down whoever this announcer was later. They were a great mic jockey, and it wouldn’t hurt to have this kind of hype at any of his shows. When the lights reversed and the stadium brightened, Piers hit a new pose before bringing his own mic up to his face.
“Kalos! Are you ready t’ rock this joint?!”
He glanced around the stadium to see if he could catch a glimpse of Raihan or Leon (or that strange “Alpha” Corbeau) amongst the swell of people. They were probably watching somewhere nearby, or at least he hoped so. He had tried to arrange it so that he could have a direct showdown against one o them, but he registered just a bit too late to make things work before they finalised the bracket. But this was still a good second. Even though he had been out of the professional training game for a while, he wanted to show them his skills hadn’t completely dulled. He had to show them what he was made of, after all, and he had to remind the world that Marnie wasn’t the only long, dark shadow cast over Galar. With a stomp of his foot, he pointed to his opponent’s entryway right as the announcer called their name.
“What an exciting show! Everyone, give it up for the young trainers of Kalos. They’re gonna make it far.”
The coordinated foot stomping and cheers drowned out the music playing in the stadium, but everyone knew it in their heart. Piers stood in the trainer’s tunnel clapping along as the adrenaline pumped through his body. Even though he had been doing this for years before his retirement, this tournament had sparked a whole new life into him. How strange to feel so young again.
“Now! Why don’t we give a big warm welcome back to Piers, Kalos? As we do, my dear friends, I’m proud and honoured to announce one of our notable own will be joining him on the pitch! He’s something of a… local celebrity. If ya know, ya know~ Many of you might be aware of his various acts of philanthropy around Kalos, and he’s showing off that big ol’ heart of his by promising us a good show today. You know him! You love him — or you’re at least part of the fan club! Give a big Kalos welcome to the irreplaceable Corbeau!!”
There he was. Even if his name hadn’t been announced, Piers would have known the other packmind was here just from sheer presence alone. It was as if Corbeau had unleashed a wave of his influence, which veiled the entire stadium as soon as he and Piers stepped out of their respective trainer entrances. He adjusted his gloves with clear nonchalance, and as his hands swung down, he smoothly unclipped one of his Pokéballs from some location on his hip. Piers cocked a brow, impressed but refusing to show it outside of that.
They met in the center as the announcer did their thing, and the tension between them was palpable. Piers himself didn’t have much in the way of a strong scent, and because of that, he never had to worry about contending with anyone on that front. His assertion came through his aura, in the pressure he made others feel around him through his various mood shifts. So, it was a special thrill to meet someone who could head off against him on that front. Corbeau’s lips ticked upward almost imperceptibly in one corner as he retracted his sharp scent and focused entirely on pressing back against Piers’ aura with his own.
It was enough to conjure those deeper Alpha instincts that Piers tried to keep under wraps. That predatory leering of his aura mixed with that imposing — almost sickening — tinge to his scent made Piers want to retaliate, if only to be rid of the stimuli. And again, it was so strange… He couldn’t remember ever reacting to another packmind to this degree, especially on the first meeting. Rarely had anyone made him feel so on the spot, and they never, ever tapped into this… this animalistic need to protect himself quite like Corbeau did.
Without thinking, Piers said, “‘m gonna figure you out.”
There was the faintest twitch of a brow before Corbeau tilted his head. “Is that so? Well, I welcome you to try.”
There was a wave of oohs and awws that went through the crowd followed by applause and a blend of shouts. There was some colour commentary from the announcer, but Piers tuned it out. His focus was unshakably on Corbeau. And he was sure that focus was shared.
“Trainers, on your marks!”
The two did a hard about-face before walking over to their starting positions. Piers unclipped one of his Pokéballs, enlarged it with a tap of his thumb, and then touched his forehead to the sphere. “Knock ‘em dead, alright?” he whispered. He allowed his influence to bleed into his words, empowering his Pokémon within. He knew that it took when he felt the orb tremble in his hold. Once he was where he needed again, he turned to face the center and locked gazes with the other trainer across the green.
PIers could swear he saw the other man smiling, the expression as enigmatic as it was self-satisfied.
After the countdown, Piers tossed his Pokéball. Skuntank was the first one out for him while Corbeau lobbed a Skrelp. The first round wasn’t exactly a nailbiter, but it gave him a good measure of what type of trainer Corbeau and how his Pokémon responded to him. He was the type to bide his time and stun his opponents by using seemingly weak attacks to devastating effect. Though he moved and talked with an air of nonchalance, he spoke with sharp authority. Each of his commands had the unmistakable shock of influence blended into them; his voice cracked against Piers’ psyche and chipped away at his inner guard with every successful hit.
Maybe that was enough to break Piers’ focus, or maybe it was simply skill on his side. Whatever it was, the synchronicity between trainer and ‘mon wasn’t entirely there, and Piers’ Skuntank got blown back and knocked out in a crushing defeat. Piers blinked as if brought back into sudden awareness, and he stared at the creature laying at his feet.
“Oh, and Corbeau’s Skrelp takes it, folks!”
The crowd, now in an absolute tizzy, roared loudly. Piers recalled his Pokémon, kissed its capture sphere, and then hooked it onto his belt. He took in a deep breath, and as he let it out, his aura rippled away from him in irritation. Now, the gloves were off.
Round 2: Toxtricity.
Once on his feet, Toxi perked up and looked back at Piers with slightly widened eyes. He must have noticed the Alpha’s oppressive energy and was suddenly on alert. Piers ducked his head, letting his hair fall over one eye as the other, a ghostly shade of cyan, stared back at his companion.
“The little morsel’s hurt,” he said lowly, “so it’s time t’ go wild.”
Toxi blinked before whipping to face the opposing Skrelp. It slammed its forepaws down onto the floor and emitted a shriek equivalent to a sick guitar riff. Its twin blue frills of electricity solidified into one solid mane of bright yellow power as did its belly and other spots on its body. The spikes on its body elongated outward as if a trap had activated. It growled deep in its chest as it returned to its Low Key form, but it narrowed its eyes at its opponent.
Piers felt that same level of aggression reverberate through his body. He adjusted his posture, held his microphone stand at an angle with barely curled fingers, and arched his back in a dramatic crescent shape. His free hand fell over his face, only revealing one eye between his fingers. Across the pitch, his eyes a duller shade of imperial gold, Corbeau pushed up his glasses. That was no hiding his scent strong now. It was so incredibly strong — hell, it was downright acidic. Piers curled his nose up at it, but now that he was getting a proper smell of it all, it reminded him… of venom.
But that didn’t seem right. Venom was the one inescapable constant when it came to packminds. Whether or not they had a scent, whether or not they had an aura to push, their venom was the one thing that outed them. But it was typically faint; it was gentle undercurrent to their smell, their aura, their everything. A packmind’s greater senses made it easy for them to pick up, but it was never a star on its own. If it was too faint or too powerful, that usually hinted at something being wrong, but this… This felt more like it was a part of him. The way that it triggered Piers’ instincts and the way that it could weave into his greater presence while also acting as its own independent scent felt more intrinsic to his nature than a sign anything was amiss.
Piers turned the possibility over in his mind as his fingers curled and a low growl left his throat. Without even looking back, his Toxtricity reflected his intense stare. He had been and always would be a scrappy creature, but this particular level of ferocity was patented only to Piers’ line of ‘mons. Even if it had been at full health, that poor Skrelp didn’t stand a chance. As soon as it went down, a surge of electricity charged victoriously through the air. Black and white hair rose hauntingly with the energy. Piers felt a vindicated as he and Corbeau locked gazes through the high-voltage arcs.
Unfortunately, Toxtricity was woefully slammed by Corbeau’s replacement, Nidoqueen, but every loss or hit from either side only increased the fervour between the two packminds until they had to physically fight the urge to storm across the green to have at each other. It all came to a head in their final match-up if Arbok versus Obstagoon. This was going to be an uphill struggle, but if there was anything a couple of Spikemuth punks knew, it was the struggle.
“Let’s go!” Piers shouted. He and his Obstagoon mirrored each other by slashing their thumbs across their throat and giving a thumbs down. “Make them pay!” They then arched backwards and let out twin death screams. His Obstagoon righted itself and crossed its arms over its chest while Piers slouched forward like an animal ready to pounce. He bobbed in place with a tight grip around his angled mic stand.
“Show no quarter,” Corbeau commanded. His voice rolled through the air like a miasma. He pushed up his glasses, and there was a deadly shine in both his eyes and his Arbok’s. “Crush their spirits!” As he slashed his hand out to the side, both of them bared their deadly fangs.
Piers had long forgotten there was a crowd watching them. The screams and colour commentary had all faded into the background for him. He felt lightheaded from the other’s acrid scent, and the amount of adrenaline coursing through his body sharpened his focus into a weapon of its own. He could only wonder what was going through Corbeau’s mind. Was the crowd’s energy playing into his determination, or had they also been cast aside? Was the announcer echoing his inner thoughts, or were the rousing words nothing more than raucous background noise? Was Piers’ own presence affecting him at all? How much was he weighing on Corbeau’s mind?
How badly did the man want to take him down…?
It took the near catastrophic sound of earth cracking to tear both trainers out of their aggressive stupor. The sound of the crowd going wild bled into Piers’ world, and the reintroduction was a shock to his senses. The announcer was so beside himself with excitement that he was practically yelling into the mic like a Guzzlord.
“I can’t believe my eyes, folks, and I’m sure you don’t either! But the judges have called it: we have ourselves a double KO! A rarity here in the coliseum! Ooh!! What an amazing battle!”
Even though the worst of Piers’ Alphaic daze had been broken, he was still in too deep to shake it off completely. It felt like he was caught in the throes of his rut or was riding the signature high from one of his more mind-blowing concerts. He took in a deep breath through his nose and let it out slowly as he tried to ground himself. He registered the volume of people without looking around; little by little, the cheers lost their intensity to him, and the shouts of his name rolled over him like water off a Psyduck’s back.
His gaze, all throughout this, was locked onto his unconscious Obstagoon. It had taken a beating and some bruisings, but it gave as good as it got. That was the Spikemuth way after all: pay every bastard back and then some. Piers huffed softly. Just as Corbeau recalled his Pokémon, Piers pulled out his capture sphere to do the same.
“Great job, you,” he muttered. His voice was completely wrecked by this point; he was amazed it didn’t hurt to speak. He stowed the ball away on his trainer belt before looking up to meet Corbeau’s gaze one final time.
The other packmind was slowly recovering in his own strangely graceful way. His threatening aura was withdrawing. It would be enough to take the edge off for other spectating packminds, but since Piers was so close, he wasn’t quite as lucky. Corbeau rolled his wrist as he bowed and placed a hand on his stomach. Ha. What a good sport… Piers waited until he was upright again before cocking up his chin and tapping his chest with the side of his fist. No matter how strange their initial meeting was, he could only give respect to such a formidable trainer. Was he, or had he ever been, a champion in this region? He couldn’t have been, right? Even though Piers didn’t associate with Leagues much these days, he still tried to keep up on the happenings just for the sheer love of it all. At his heart, he was still a fan.
But those were questions for later. Corbeau smoothed his hair back and turned away, making his dignified exit. Piers spun around to do the same, and it had been a long time since he could leave the pitch with his chin held high and undeniable pride in his chest.