Alright what the fuck was happening?
Felis remembered he felt super confused when they were ordered to meet in the auditorium once more after they’d packed. It didn’t take long for him and Sirius to grab their essentials, a couple outfits, a Galactic-issued belt with built in pocket dimensions (Taken away from their paychecks of course), one combat knife each from the temple fiasco, and their Pokémon.
Wearing their god awful uniforms, they walked back into the Auditorium where a fucking séance was currently underway. Oddly dressed men and women in loose purple robes with Kadabras in a circle, alongside three other purple fires that made up a 6-pointed star.
The song was pretty cool, like a Sardukar chant from Dune, Felis was actually enjoying it until they all started to fucking teleport. Reality became soup, different locations blending into one another before finally fixing in on two locations. It hurt his brain to see things that weren’t supposed to be, like his vision was double and singular at once. Contradictions, though different from what Giratina did.
He still felt like he was going to throw up though, maybe he shouldn’t have eaten so much.
And then they were in a basement. Of a casino. Miraculously he managed to not throw up, as Grunts did quick assessments on them, checking for any “unusual side effects”. After everyone was cleared, Admin Mars began yelling orders at them.
“Alright. Here’s how it’s going to go.” She announced, pacing back and forth. “League laws state that Galactic cannot hold more than 15 trainer-employees in a given city outside of Veilstone.”
She paused, her eyes narrowing at both brothers. Felis felt his hackles rise, was she suspicious? Did she recognize them? Was she racist? Pokémon racism would be kind of funny, didn’t Sinnoh hate the League? Did some of them hate Unovans too?
None of his suspicions were answered, as she continued to speak, “Of course, we’re dealing with Chronos here so we have a lot more than 15. So for now, you won’t be Galactic, instead you work at this fine establishment, gratefully provided to us by the Mayor.”
“So, first things first–” She stopped, glancing at the two of them again, “Alright, I can’t take this anymore.”
“You two.” She snapped, striding up to them. It was a little funny seeing a woman that barely came up to his chest get angry at him, but the knowledge she could kill him with a word had him reign back his ego for a bit.
“Ma’am?”
“You two aren’t trainers. You’re part of our retinue.”
“That is correct, Ma’am.”
“So explain why you look like a couple of washed up criminals who just stumbled into some uniforms.”
Wow. It was honestly kind of scary how accurate that was. Minus the criminal part, couldn’t commit a crime if there were no laws, and stealing from Galactic didn’t count. Vigilante rules, if you hurt evil corporations you shouldn’t be liable to crimes.
“We were recently recruited, Ma’am.” Sirius intervened, bowing his head slightly. “In that time we haven’t had much time to…refresh ourselves.”
“You mean get a haircut.” Mars sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. She seemed to be debating with herself before finally coming to a conclusion. “Okay! Being in Galactic means you need to be professional. And while you have the manners down, all of that–” She gestured, waving at their messy and uncut hair, “Has to be dealt with.”
Alright cool, it wasn’t Pokémon racism that had her eyeing them.
“Know any good barbers?” Felis asked, he’d been meaning to get a haircut.
“Yeah. Me.” Mars said, before turning to one of her attendants, “Rory, get all the grunts fitted. Tamsin, you’re taking the researchers and elites over to the main base, and Nerys, show the trainers their accommodations. Trainer personnel meet back in two hours, we debrief then.”
And that’s how Felis found himself seated in a barber’s chair, in a small empty room save for a Purugly napping in the back. Apparently the Admin had a whole team of barbers, and Arun was carted off to another spot for his own trimming. Admin Mars began strapping on some gloves like she was about to perform a surgery on him. Though when she picked up the largest razor he’d ever seen in his life, “surgery” turned to “murder”.
“Woah! Wait!” Felis yelped, leaping out of the chair before that damnable thing could touch his hair.
The Red-haired woman narrowed her eyes at him, “What?”
“It’s just…what type of haircut are you giving me?”
“What all Galactic members have. It needs to be shortened so the wig can actually fit.”
Felis’s mind went blank. A buzzcut. A buzzcut. Felis did not look good in a buzzcut. Memories of childhood haircuts where his Ma would just reduce his glorious, beautiful mane to nothing. Murder of the highest degree.
Never again.
“Wait, wait!” Felis begged, his mind whirling with things to say.
Mars stood there, razor in hand like a headsman with her executioner’s axe, waiting for his final words.
“How…how long have you been cutting hair for?”
The Admin rolled her eyes, “Since I could hold scissors, now sit down.”
“So you must have experience right? You’re good at this?”
“The best.”
“Prove it.”
He was stalling. He knew he was stalling, she probably knew he was stalling, hell, the Purugly that was taking a nap in the corner probably knew he was stalling. But luck was on his side, with Mars glaring at him and disappearing from the room altogether. Felis thought about leaving as well, but Purugly made a sound that kept him rooted to the spot.
She returned a few moments later with an album book, pushing it into his chest.
“Look.” Mars said, “And you tell me.”
Inside were pictures of haircuts, probably her better works. Felis thought it akin to barbers posting their cuts on instagram or the like. The cuts were varied, some felt more traditional, some were more recognizable in Felis’s era before the bombs, some were just plain weird. A real prominent one was the classic anime cut of spiky gelled up hair. It was a little strange seeing it being presented as “cool” in this world, during his time if you rocked that cut you'd just get bullied.
Another fact Felis found interesting was the hair color of people. Some rocked the traditional colors of what was natural, others had more vibrant colors like white, red, or even blue. He asked if they were dyes, but about 70% of them were natural.
“This all looks good…” Felis said slowly, “But there’s something wrong here…”
Mar’s eyes narrowed, “And that is?”
“You’ve never cut curly hair before.”
“...okay? What’s the difference?”
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“Think about it.” Felis argued, “When are you ever going to get a chance like this again? Work with authentic curls, straight out of a commercial! I've seen you Sinnoh people, none of you have curls. It's all the rage in Unova, you know. If you cut me like…that, you’ll just be ruining it! Could your pride as a barber stand for something so outrageous?”
Holy shit he was just speaking for the sake of speaking. Yapping, if you will. But damn it, his hair was one of his good points!
“...Shit.” Mars sighed. “You’re right.”
Oh my god, he was going to be alright.
“But I don’t want to hear another word from you, understand, Grunt?”
“How am I supposed to–”
Mars snapped her fingers at him, “Nope. No talking.”
“But–”
“Another word and you’re going bald.”
A look of horror flashed across his face, before he gave a bow and sat back down. Praying to whatever gods were out there that his beautiful hair wouldn’t be harmed.
—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sirius looked into the mirror, sighing for what felt like the hundredth time in a row. He’d grown to like his long hair, and now he was left with…this.
They even got rid of most of his beard…
He felt…boyish. Less like the man that had survived a nuclear apocalypse and the end of humanity, more like he actually belonged to a world of adventure and Pokémon. Of course, it was all in his head, he was still the same man on the inside, but he felt he looked different. If only it didn’t take 90% of his hair being unceremoniously chopped off.
Another sigh, at least the clothes looked good. They were a little tight, but he’d be the first to admit he liked the way his arms bulged in the dress shirt, or how toned his legs felt in dress pants. He looked good honestly, but why did they have to be so gung-ho about his hair? If it was any consolation, at least Felis would look worse.
The thought kept him going as he continued to dress himself, fumbling with a tie before he heard the change room door open.
Sirius turned, before his eyes widened. Standing there, with a fucking fade and well defined curls, was Pranav.
“Damn.” His brother winced, though Sirius could hear the shit-eating grin beneath the surface, “They did you dirty, huh?”
“...How?”
“What can I say?” Felis said, admiring himself in a nearby mirror, “I’m just charming and handsome–damn she does good work. Don’t think I’ve looked this good in a while.”
“This is unfair.” Sirius grumbled, throwing on his blazer. “I’m heading out, finish changing when you can.”
“Sure thing baldy.”
Sirius stopped in his tracks. Na. He wasn’t doing this. It was time for big brother mode. He walked over to the nearby dresser, finding a razor. Pranav, who was eyeing him warily, began backing up as Arun found his weapon.
“Sirius…” He warned, “Put that away.”
“What…this?” Sirius grinned, turning it on, then off, then on again. At every buzz Pran would flinch slightly, like a rabbit ready to flee.
“I swear to god Sirius I will never forgive you if you do this to me.”
“Do what?”
Pranav shifted his feet into a stance, putting his guard up, his front leg bouncing on the ground, “I’ll kick your fuckin’ ass if you take another step toward me with that.”
“Oh? You think you can beat me?”
“Those who fight to protect are stronger than those who fight for ego.”
“I guess we’ll see about that.” Arun said, holding the razor in front of him like a knife.
“Doing this won’t help you bring your hair back.”
“But it’ll definitely make me feel better.”
Felis sighed, “There’s no changing your mind, is there?”
Sirius shook his head, “Nope.”
“Alright then, come at me baldy.”
—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“That smug little bastard.” Sirius growled to himself as he stood in line with the other grunts, all dressed nicely. Felis stood beside him, a shit-eating grin on his face as he stood there without a scratch on him. Sirius on the other hand was still slightly reeling from a pounding headache.
The second Sirius charged him, Aken came in from nowhere, shooting him with a Confuse Ray. It felt like Sirius had downed 7 shots of vodka back to back, his head immediately started spinning and he simply fell into a heap on the floor. Felis then got dressed in record time, bolting out the door before Sirius came back up.
What made it worse was that as he fell, the razor clipped a bit of his hair too, leaving the side uneven and ridiculous looking. Which meant he had to go back to the barber, and get his hair cut even shorter. He was thankful for the stubble at least, gave him a tough look instead of brown Cailou.
“Okay, here are your duties for the day.” A manager of the establishment said. “Being that you aren’t professionals in this line of work, stick to the basics. You will help out guests, serve drinks, and be polite. If you have any questions, ask your seniors, aside from that you get two paid 30 minute breaks. Any questions?”
Holy, this really was paradise. Two paid lunches? That just wasn’t heard of.
“Okay, awesome, no questions. Keep your Pokémon out, most of you have cute little critters so the patrons won’t mind them too much. But no fucking Geodudes or electric types.”
“Aww.” A Grunt sighed, staring sadly at his teary-eyed Pachirisu.
“Nevermind. That one stays, no other exceptions. Now put on your masks and make me some motherfuckin' money!”
Work was simple, if not busy. Sirius was constantly walking around, Valor beside him keeping a stern eye on things, and Zubat clinging to his shoulder. He’d asked if she wanted to remain inside her Pokeball, but the little bat denied his request, declaring she’d rather stay with him. That was nice.
Felis mostly carried trays of drinks to guests, talking, laughing, and listening to their tales. The clientele that liked to frequent this place were mostly older folks, and they had a penchant for talking. Long lives meant they learned a lot, and many wanted to share their wisdom with the younger folk. Felis looked like he was enjoying listening to their tales and lessons, though Aken seemed bored and wandered away half the time.
Sirius on the other hand quickly had his status changed to “bouncer” when he stopped a few drunk bachelors from smashing a machine to bits. His deep voice and large muscles were enough to scare two, Valor and Zubat letting out hisses were enough for the final guy. After tossing them out the manager had him discard his blazer, rolling up his long sleeves to show off his forearms and walk around with a mean look on his face.
He dropped it in front of the older guests though, they were nice. And when they were drunk, tipped very nicely.
Work left both brothers feeling just a little tired, but a couple cups of coffee and they were back to their old selves, if not a little hyped up. Concierge uniforms were replaced with casual clothing (Plus supply-belts), and they were once again in the Casinos basement for a different type of debriefing.
“I hope you’re not tired Grunts, because we still have a long night ahead of us.” Admin Mars grinned. There was a crazed look in her eye, one Sirius recognized during his time with engineering students right before an exam. A coffee high. Her hands were twitchy, eyes baggy but wild, her words going a mile a minute.
“Today’s going to be easy, but if I hear you’re slacking you’re working a morning shift, got it?” A chorus of agreements rang out, and she nodded, satisfied. “Eterna’s got a lot of areas and neighbourhoods that could be hiding illicit activities. Our goal right now is to stop whatever operations they're doing, and look good doing it. Any questions?”
Sirius raised his hand.
“This isn’t a classroom, Grunt. Speak your mind.”
Felis snickered, and Sirius let out a huff, “How much force are we allowed to use?”
Mars blinked, “All of it.”
“...Could you elaborate?”
“Chronos are criminals. We are Galactic, and licensed trainers at that. The police can complain, but with the Mayor on our side, there’s not much they can really do.”
Mars made sure to look each and every one of them in the eyes, “Make no mistake, if you hesitate they will kill you. So don’t show them mercy, arrests will look better of course, but if you can’t do so safely, kill the bastards. We can handle the cleanup.”
Sirius clenched his hands into fists, he didn’t want to kill again. He didn’t want Pranav to kill again. Call him a hypocrite, a delusional idiot, a naive trainer, but he really wanted them to be better here. To be normal.
A shoulder nudged against his own, snapping Sirius out of his thoughts. Felis looked at him with a soft smile, a nod of his head. “I’m with you.” The look seemed to say, and Sirius sighed, before returning his own smile. However this played out they’d do it together this time.
“You will be split into separate teams, each led by two agents.” Mars said, pacing back and forth, “Each team will monitor areas we believe Chronos activity is highest in. We’re cleaning up these streets.”
Orders given, each of them were given a set of coordinates to head towards. Sirius was happy to see Mars had placed him and Felis in the same team, both of them walking through the Eterna streets. The city’s nightlife was nowhere near close to how active Veilstone was, but there were still people out and about.
Eterna felt more…homey than Veilstone. Or at least, reminded Sirius of his time. Suburbs and various neighbourhoods, high-rise condos to save space on land. Malls and plazas, if it weren't so walkable, and if he didn’t see Pokémon every few minutes, he’d have believed he was back.
Of course, then they arrived at the less reputable parts of town. Sirius didn’t like calling low-income neighborhoods seedy, it was usually a case of government mismanagement, or lack of care in the right facilities to better the area. Whatever his opinions though, it didn’t change the fact that the houses and businesses here were run down, their destination appearing as a bar that appeared closed for business.
The two brothers (alongside a dozen or so Grunts) entered, seeing another few dozen or so men and women lounging about, either nursing drinks or chatting quietly with one another.
“Bar’s closed.” A voice called from the bar.
“Not for us it isn’t.” Felis grinned, strolling up, “Our mutual employer sent us.”
“Reinforcements? Already?” The bartender turned, and both he and Sirius looked at each other with surprise.
“Quinn?”
“Sirius?”
“Aw fuck.” Felis hissed, “If you’re here, don’t tell me–”
“Did I hear reinforcements?” Leland asked, strolling into the room, “It’s about time–”
Both of them made eye contact at the same time, their faces morphing into deep scowls.
“Well if it isn’t little Felis.” Leland scoffed, “How’s your face?”
“Great. How’s your arm?”
“Better, a lot better.”
“Good, next time I’ll make sure I break it.”
“Felis!” Sirius snapped. Now was not the time for this.
“Yeah? I think I’ll enjoy kicking your ass again.”
“Leland.” Quinn hissed.
“You’re lucky Sirius is here, making me responsible.” Felis grinned, “Otherwise you’d be walking around in a cast again.”
“You’re lucky Quinn’s such a hardass otherwise I’d wipe your face on the fucking pavement.”
Another set of glares, both Quinn and Sirius stared at each other with a look that said “Sorry about this.” and “It’s alright, I’ll handle it.”
Felis and Leland yelped as they were both smacked upside the head.