Chapter Text
The morning after the Tournoi
It was just another morning in Lumiose. Dorian rubbed his hair about, as he went to go make some coffee. He was sure Taunie wouldn’t be too overprotective of her coffee supply, she had spent a whole day trying to lecture the group on her futile endeavours at recreating the Nouveau coffee truck’s recipe, only being rewarded with a mess of pods and a lingering smell of coffee beans for a day.
He smacked his lips; it had been a long night. The dance was certainly something he wouldn’t forget. Though... he swore that something else happened after. Eh, it was probably nothing.
“Geez, you look a wreck,” Alistair snickered at him, Dorian rolling his eyes as he ruffled the young fox ghost’s head.
“Eh, I suppose I’ve seen better days.” His companion wasn’t exactly telling a lie; glancing in the small reflection of the kettle, Dorian could see his hair was quite unkempt, eyes batted, and oh dear, he had eyebags again. The nightmares weren’t fully letting up, not after Zenko had tried to take control, even for a bit. His eyes drifted to his right eye, which, thankfully, was still lavender.
Oh, how he wanted to tell them. Lida especially. The girl was so, so sweet, it made Dorian’s heart sick from the constant empathy and understanding she showed him. But she couldn’t know. No one could. That he, not even thirteen yet, had been sucked into a portal by the literal GOD of their world, used as some kind of ‘Chosen One’, only to fail miserably and get killed by his traitor of a friend, and THEN having to be possessed by a bunch of ghosts to resurrect. Now he said it all in his head, geez, it sounded ridiculous. NO way she’d believe that. She’d probably look at him like he’d grown more heads than a Dugtrio and run enough awkwardly.
At least, that’s what his brain told him, before Lida just so happened to show up, stretching out in a light shirt and some shorts. Oh. His mind trailed back to last night.
The dance, his hands on her waist, her looking up at him, like- like he was hers...
Oh. He did that? It was all fuzzy.
Quick! Say something!
“H- hey, Lida! Um, morning!” Dorian stuttered dumbly, too loudly for sure, gritting his teeth in embarrassment as Lida squeaked in reply.
“Oh, Dorian! Didn’t see you there.” She shuffled her feet, wandering over to the kitchenette as she absentmindedly grabbed a pastry lying in a little basket. She nibbled on it, the air rife with unspoken tension between the two. Foolishly, she took a glance at Dorian. He just- he looked adorable with that bed-head, though she noted his eyes still seemed a little tired. Was he getting enough sleep? She internally pouted at the thought of the boy stirring about in his bed.
“Nav and Tauns up yet?” Dorian asked, Lida shaking her head.
“Nah, Tauns’ snoring, and Nav’s been up all night watching the archived Canari streams,” Lida said matter-of-factly, a moment of clarity before she went back to awkwardly chewing on the croissant.
Dorian made a silent hum in acknowledgment, before sipping his coffee. Bleugh, he didn’t exactly know how anyone could drink it; even with sugar and milk it tasted bitter! Still, it did help wake him up a good deal.
It was as he was sipping, that he spotted a sight that immediately made his eyes flare up. Was this what they called PTSD? He clenched his teeth, trying to back away. Lida saw it too, her mouth opening wordlessly, as Dorian could only get a singular half-word out.
“Fu-” The fractal light of gems and indigo energy was back, and next thing he knew, he and Lida got sucked straight into it. The chime carried through his head, ever familiar, ever jarring, as he found himself soaring through that inky black darkness between worlds once more.
“That- that was quite the party,” Carmine cackled from a couch, snuggled up to Drayton as the remainder of the Paldeans and their friends lay strewn about. Ivor hicupped, cuddling a plant pot, while Lebanne had been lying on the floor exhausted. For some reason, either owing to a chipper nature, or more likely, hard alcohol, Jacinthe was imitating Carmine and had weaselled her way into her maid’s muscular, sturdy, comforting arms, taking extra care to stuff her face in them. Thank goodness there was no paparrazi, otherwise things would be... questionable. Maybe a sleazy photo here or there.
Canari and Gwynn had dipped, expectedly. The two young women weren’t exactly in the mood to hang about a cohort of older, certainly hung-over and hammered adults, though one may suspect it was more so to do with Gwynn being done with Ivor after the fifth cry of ‘Miss Emma I looveee youuuuu’ towards a freaking plant pot. Gwynn did a spit take at that, and proceeded to hurriedly request leaving the establishment, followed by her doting electric girlfriend. Juliana and Kieran had napped in their room, certainly a gratifying slumber, and returned to see the chaos in their absence. Penny had just started up, screeching about and running all over the place due to a random Scatterbug having somehow ended up in the basement and landing on her face. Her not wearing her glasses undoubtedly made matters worse, envisioning the diminutive grub as some kind of kaiju taking up all her sight.
“Get it off get it off!” she yelled, Juliana nonchalantly waiting for the young woman to fly by her and pick the little bug off her face.
“What happened while we were away?” Juliana asked, unsure of where to begin. The BB club was completely clattered amongst the couches, Crispin and Lacey sleeping on one another’s shoulders. Even Amarys seemed to have succumbed to the post-party clarity, her glasses weakly placed on her head and arms slung lazily on a chair.
“Whatever it was, it was la BOMBA!” Nemona slurred, twirling a bunch of toothpicks about as Arven lay drooling on her shoulder. Kieran squinted at the several wine glasses sitting about the two. Oddly enough, he expected Nemona to be a lightweight.
The Paldean giggled nonsensically, evidently out of it, and Kieran gave a huff, as he looked towards Carmine, who was still cackling, her engagement ring sitting on her finger all the while. Despite himself, he was glad. He did wonder where Drayton may have managed to get that ring though. He had just gone over to nab a drink, intent on washing out his morning headache, when he caught a bright light shing to his side. A fractal, indigo light.
He knew that light.
“Juliana!” he yelled, the urgency in his voice drawing her attention as the two saw the indigo fractals start warping and spinning out of control. In a moment, she, him, his sister, Drayton, and Juliana’s friends all got pulled in, Penny unfortunately having just decided to plant her glasses on her nose in time to see the calamity and screeching like a wet Meowth as she went in head-first.
Ivor started up, his eyes cloudy, as he swore that he saw someone fall into a pit of light. His headache stomped down his mental ability, and he went back to cuddling the pot, which was groaning from his muscular embrace.
Eh, he was probably still drunk.
“Ugh, Juliana? You there?” Kieran asked, his mind immediately rushing to the thought of her hurt as he got up. His urgency was overwhelmed, however, as he was left a little perplexed; why was the floor wooden again? It only grew when he looked around and realised he was no longer in Hotel Richismme. Though it seemed a little more furnished than last time he checked, it seemed that he was in Hotel Z. He heard a groan coming from the kitchenette, and rushed over, only to find Dorian and Lida... splatted atop one another? Lida even had her tongue out in a mock demise as she wiggled free, Dorian’s eyes wincing as he apologetically separated himself from the impromptu people-sandwich.
“What on earth was that?” he heard Juliana’s voice come from somewhere back in the living room, and flew over, seeing her and the rest of their friends stuffed in one corner. He realised the rest of the BB club wasn’t there, but there were bigger matters to deal with right now. A few feet away, there seemed to be a hubbub of individuals talking in another room, but their voices sounded... very familiar.
“What was that?” one voice asked, a little worried. Kieran knew it was Juliana’s. But it sounded older?
“Hang on, Mr and Mrs Koshou, stay with your daughter, Al, go check what’s outside.” Dorian paused in his tracks as he was getting up. That was his voice, but why was he blatantly calling Al out?
“Did Hoopa open another Hyperspace Hole again?” Now this voice, it was unfamiliar. It was a woman’s, no doubt, and to make things even weirder, he could hear what sounded like a very strong Southern Galarian accent. Like VERY strong.
“Oi? Did youse drop a bliddin’ Duraldon in ‘ere or wot?”
“Himiko, stay close.” Kieran froze. That was his voice. Who was Himiko though?
“That was WAY too loud.” Now that raised even more questions. What was Corbeau doing in here? Hell no, was he trying to pitch another ‘deal’?
The murmuring grew closer, as Kieran took a step back. Juliana clasped his hands, as Drayton, Arven, Penny, Nemona, and his sister recoiled to the far end of the room. Taunie and Naveen made their entry from downstairs, their messy hair indicating they had just woken up.
“Anyone feel that?” Taunie tottered, stumbling about as she caught herself on the edge of the lobby table. Funny, it seemed way less dusty than she recalled, and- was that a doughnut logo? Who put a doughnut logo in the Hotel? Actually, where was AZ?
Naveen tapped on his phone, but was baffled when his streams came up years out of date? What do you mean, ‘Me and G-Volt Marriage Vlog’? When on earth did that happen? He knew Canari was one for lightning rounds, but this seemed a bit of a stretch.
The group locked eyes with the door to the strategy meeting room, as the handle began to turn. Breath still, they watched as the door creaked open, a sliding sound as they were greeted with arguably a sight that made them think they had drunk a little too much ‘soda’.
No, scratch that, they were on drugs. Crack, even.
This couldn’t be real. It was less realistic than the idea of Drayton letting his floof of Colgate hair down, less likely than Penny going to the gym and doing a handstand, Distortion World, even Nemona saying she didn’t want to battle for once seemed like more of a stretch than this. Okay, maybe that was pushing it, but you get what I mean.
Because, on the other side of the doorframe, there was Team MZ. They looked mostly recognisable, but Naveen noted that his- his doppelganger had golden lines and absolutely gorgeous embroidery on his white coat. There was also a young woman who looked like Taunie, same hairstyle, albeit with brown hair, grey eyes and noticeable eye bags. Lida stared further in, and spotted what looked like her, only her hair topknot was way longer, looking plenty more like her mother’s, and... and she had a RING? It held an amethyst gem on top, and the band was silver. Her heart froze up, as both she and Dorian, who had a warm flush on his face, dared sneak a look at the guy sitting beside her. Well, Other-Him.
Dorian’s mind was doing proverbial backflips, as the man looking directly at him tilted his head. He seemed amused, of all things. Superficially, it looked like him and Zenko had a fusion ritual and got stuck together; his hair was white and violet, right eye golden and skin grey, and he was dressed in suspenders and a crisp white shirt. The odd cape strewn on his back was at second glance actually his haori, the sleeves seemingly torn off and sewn shut to give the coat the impression of being a cloak. But what made his heart freeze up, was the Starmie-esque ring, a ruby with purple indentations and a golden band sitting on his finger.
Corbeau was there too, his eyes squinting, as Taunie recoiled from the sight. He looked... younger? At least, he seemed a bit more lively than usual.
Penny was just as baffled, when she saw freaking Champion Gloria and her boyfriend just chilling next to them. The Southern Galarian trainer was busy turning her head around in confusion at Mach Speed, wordlessly mouthing hyperbolic curses that Penny could only guess were ‘What the fook’s geeing oon?”. That accent of hers was formidable.
As if anything more insane could not happen today, the most massive... what could only be described as the biggest, ghost-looking Zoroark everyone not named Dorian had ever seen appeared out of nowhere, mouth agape, as it looked back between Dorian and the guy who looked like him.
And the biggest bombshell was yet to come, for, sitting together, was Juliana and Kieran. But this pair had a few... ahem, drastic differences. For one, this Juliana and Kieran seemed plenty older, definitely adults, a little tired around the edges but also alive with a sense of experience about them. Her hair was styled different, as was this Kieran’s; his tasseled locks were tied up in a ponytail and had a bang on either side of his head framing his face. And if this still wasn’t enough, the absolutely most adorable child Kieran and Juliana had ever laid their eyes on, round face, golden eyes, and purple-black hair, was sitting innocently between them, her tiny but chubby hands pattering on the table in childish interest in the current situation. She looked up at the elder Juliana and Kieran, and then waved eagerly at the shocked group.
“Hi Mama! Hi Papa!”
.
.
.
The younger Kieran and Juliana blinked, rather tranquil, serene, as if to steady themselves. Lida and Dorian also stood stranded, their minds rushing to a thousand different conclusions from their parallel selves’ fingers. In a few infinite, eternal seconds, Kieran replied with an ‘Oh’, before he and the other three careened over in a faint.
“ARCEUS DAMMIT!” Dialga screeched, practically foaming at the mouth as Giratina and Palkia floated about them. “IT’S HAPPENING AGAIN!”
“Whatever is the matter with you, my short-tempered sibling?” Giratina’s mocking voice taunted, as Dialga gave a swipe and was tempted to fire a Roar of Time at full blast.
“That FORSAKEN turtle’s done it again! More time-travel shenanigans from those Paldean brats!” If they were human, they would have been doing a very good impression of suffering from a stroke. Or an aneurysm. Or maybe even both.
Giratina chortled in its eldritch voice, as Dialga fumed.
“Now child, chide yourself,” the resounding echo of their father and creator showed up, Arceus galloping on air and practically aura-farming over its kids. “Let us leave the mortals to it.”
Dialga only thundered in response. “Why, is it because your little Chosen One is there to-”
“YES,” Arceus’ voice boomed through the cosmos, making a few galaxies shake with his reverberating power. “But, also because you should learn to be angry, without all this rapture.” Dialga simmered down, red eyes glimmering as Palkia flew about in the distance. Space seemed to wobble with its convulsive rumbling supposed to imply laughter.
“Now, let us leave this space. They should return, of their own accord.” And that was the end of that conversation.