"Well, here we are."
Sepia took a drag on his cigarette. He had been fine until they had got about a mile out from it. He had never wanted to come here again. He had never wanted to make the tap tap tap of his footsteps on the rocky surface that was the Pidgeot's Claw.
But he was here for a reason. He could get a clandestine boat to Genthy Island - no identification, no processing, no names on forms or in computers with the glowing green screens that BEEP BEEP BEEP and FLASH FLASH FLASH because they could be traced.
Paper takes months to trace.
He smirked and took another drag, this one long and subdued, shifting the intensity from his face to his eyes. Fuschia could see it in his eyes. She could see that he hated this place. She could see that he wanted nothing more than to leave in an instant. To be gone in a flash.
It was what he would always do. She held no pretenses to the contrary. When this was all over, there was no place for him at his side. He didn't talk about it, but Rocket Logistics had his Dialga. Once he got it back, he'd be off. Off to wherever he wants. Off and away, away, far far away from everything. That was what Indigo Sepia did best.
"Everyone go ahead. I'll catch up in a moment. I need to... think." Sepia said, exhaling smoke as he talked. It danced in the light of a fire burning at the entrance to the town. A pile of bicycles, left by those who came to Calar Town to do what he imagined so very many of them wanted to do. Someone had set them on fire. Their thin metal frames were cracking and distorting in the heat. What would remain?
He wasn't sure if he wanted anything to remain.
He took another drag and stared at the fire. The midday fire, burning brightly in the sunlight.
He tossed the cigarette at it and walked onwards.
"Here's your uniform. Here's your access card. Here's your regulation Pokemon and... oh, right. Your orders. Sealed letters, that's how they do it around here. You'll get used to it. The seal on the front means you're probably headed for Jirachi 7."
"I didn't know."
Darkitsu was staring at the path before him. Staring at the houses littering it. They looked so clean, but everything else...
"Calar Town... The slum of Cyren." Sepia said, sighing loudly. "The people here have nothing but the water from the river that cuts it in half, so they make do. The broken claw. Typical, isn't it? A slum in Cyren, and people pick up on the fact that it curves because it's carved into a mountain." He began to remove a shoe, one of his nice black ones that complemented his suit perfectly. His stark white sock touched the ground as he changed feet, taking off the other one.
"When we were thrown around by Palkia... this is where it sent me."
Sepia's other foot touched the ground. The socks were already gathering dirt and dust, the very movement disturbing it, tossing it up towards the ramshackle houses that were always so clean.
"If you removed everyone, it would look nice." Sepia laughed. It was a false laugh, it was so fake it was an insult to the very people gathering around him to stare. "A pair of nice, clean shoes to whoever tells me why you're all burning the bikes!"
A young boy stepped forward. There was a sadness in his eyes that Sepia didn't even want to contemplate.
"Our families, sir. People are going missing, and now the gym leader's gone, and strangers are jumping into the river, and we don't know what to do."
Sepia kneeled down and patted the boy on the shoulder. The boy's mood did not improve.
"I can't fix things. Doesn't mean I won't try..." He stood up and handed the boy the shoes. "Someone'll buy 'em. It'll pay for a meal at least." The boy retreated into the crowd as Sepia sighed another long, sad sigh. "Tell Roy I'm leaving getting a boat up to him, then get back here. We've got some investigating to do."