(I hate forced losses in games. Be ready for the runback!)


    <hr>


    "The ring is my roiling sea. ?


    The towering waves shaped me.


    Crash! Crash! Crasher Wake!


    Crash! Crash! Crasher Wake!


    I''m the tidal wave of power to wash you away!


    Put out the fire, Crasher Wake!


    Run from electricity, Crasher Wake!


    Ah, ah, aaaah!


    The ring is my sea. ?"


    "Pause." Iono pressed the remote, "What did you see?" she asked.


    "That is a very loud man," Linh noted, watching the scanlines on the TV—the kind mounted on top of a VCR set—flicker up the man''s face.


    Iono leaned harder against the TV, "He''s a Gym Leader—it comes with the job. But no. Throughout that battle, what did you see of Crasher Wake''s composure? What was he doing?"


    "He was... Singing. Mid battle."


    "And this ain''t no musical, so. Why he do dat? What''s he telling Floatzel? And what''s the kid telling Buizel?" Iono stood up, and walked around her apartment, circling her couch—circling Linh.


    Linh thought about the battle—between Crasher Wake and the kid. "Every one of his orders were... He was constantly on the offensive. While the kid was defensive entirely—even when she tried to stop Crasher Wake she fell back to dodging after Crasher ordered a few moves."


    "Exactamundo," Iono chirped. She raised her hand, over Linh''s shoulder, and tapped two buttons. "Rewind, unpause." The TV scrolled back, and started playing. Showing:


    "The ring is my sea~


    Just listen to me~ "


    Crasher Wake hoarsely sang—bobbing his head with every improvised lyric. His hands struck the air and the fins of his mask (sprouting from his eyebrows, and circling around his bald head) flapping rhythmically.


    "B-Buizel!" The Challenger cried, she had her hands clenched into fists. Those fists were clenched against her chest. "Get out of there! Dive!"


    "This is my turf~


    Beware my—Surf!"


    Crasher Wake suddenly snapped—jubilant, he stomped the ground as Floatzel called the water.


    The screen stopped at an unflattering time. Crasher Wake''s massive body pudging up, fat rolls forming over his abs. "Pause."


    Iono rolled her wrist, gesturing to imaginary points with the remote. "You do things, they try to stop it instead of doing their thing. They lose! How you gon'' do that yourself?"


    "Fast pace—if your Pokémon''s doing things first, then—"


    "Part of it," Iono interrupted. She stood back up and stretched. "But you can only yap so fast, yanno? Ya get tongue-tied, or your guy trips up! The other part is—me! My stuff! Pre-sen-tation! Put on a show, and they can''t help but get caught up. Look at Crasher Wake—" She jabbed the remote at the screen, "—He''s stolen her eyeballs. She doesn''t know what to do!"


    Linh sat back, hands in lap. "Performance to unbalance the foe—but when there''s two people good at this sort of thing. Isn''t that just two dudes trying to yell over each other?" Not his style—not at all.


    "Bzzt! Not true—I''ll show you with this next clip!" Iono vaulted over the couch and with quick practised movements ejected the tape. She moved behind the TV to the wall of shelves—a foot lashed out and dragged a cardboard box out from the bottom of the wall. One which clattered with cassette tapes. She bent—


    Linh looked away. All around Iono''s apartment, knick knacks and stuff lay scattered. An easel leaned against a shelf with several yarn balls and dusty needles. The table was stacked with board games (everyone bar the top still taped shut). By its side a display rack showed a truly pitiful trading card collection. In the corner, a camera sat on a shelf in front of a collage of photos (amatuer, blurry). Hobbies forgotten.


    A Magnemite floated by, with a duster floating beside it. There was a roll of magnets—neodynium circles—taped to the handle. The Magnemite rolled its eye at Linh.


    "Nyahaha! Found it! Allister Vs Bede, semi-finals." Iono popped up, an USB stick in her hands. She pushed the TV aside (trolley scraping the carpet) and placed a laptop in front of Linh. "Sit back, and enjoy the show," she told him. "And watch the mask kid."


    Where Crasher had presence, mask kid (Allister) did not. He shrunk into himself before, during, and after. The kid—lanky as a teenager—displayed something that went beyond shyness. Anxiety. His commands were soft. His dictation was meagre. His stance was shaky. And even though he won against Gym Leader Bede, Allister seemed just as defeated as him.


    Linh wasn''t exactly impressed. "He''s... Well. Congratulations on his win. But he didn''t exactly show off a personality. Wallflower''s are not known for controlling the scene."


    "Yet you saw him." Iono leaned close enough that her hair smacked against Linh''s cheek. Linh sideeyed her.


    "He was on one side of the battlefield with no one around," he pointed out. "He was getting overrun, for most of that fight."


    "Did he? Look again. Rewind—" Iono flicked the mouse pad, and the laptop jumped forwards and backwards. "Look! Here, Allister''s speaking, and Bede isn''t. Here! Bede''s ordering, but Allister blurts out his order, and his Cursola acts first!


    "And, also, aussi auch también, look at his Pokémon! They''re confident, they''re all rarin'' to go! Allister''s got this style that doesn''t say much. But when he wants to speak—people listen." Iono nodded firmly.


    Linh reached out to the laptop, scrolled to the start of the video. He played it again. This time, however, his eyes stayed on Allister at every moment.


    "Pause," Linh said—ruefully. "... Yeah. I see now. He''s... projecting his voice, even though its coming out all fretful, it''s still firm." Linh paused, he turned to Iono. "Can you teach me this?"


    She grinned, "Naturally—I''ll show you how to build right up! We haven''t even gotten into the other side—trash-talkin'' them down! Hang on, let me just find the right..."


    Linh sat behind the table. Ankles crossed, back straight. Stiff. In front of his was a heavy book, a tome. It was closed. He sat in front of the camera and waited for Iono to finish fiddling with the recording settings.


    A touch at his feet, it was Meiosis, his Solosis. Meio smiled encouragingly, and Linh huffed. He shooed her to her position—behind the thin wall of the room.


    Iono popped up behind her drone, she rose her hand. Finger met thumb, curled in a ring. The okay sign.


    Linh inhaled, then exhaled. And with ramrod awkwardness, picked up the book. He tapped it twice against the table—performative, and to ground him. And he cleared his throat.


    "Good evening," Linh began. "And welcome to storytime with Li—storytime." He winced internally. Always good to flub straight at the beginning; it gets all the mistakes out early.


    Iono, behind the drone, gestured for him to keep going.


    "And what is the purpose of story time?" He asked, "Well. To tell stories, of course. And I have a story for you." Linh bent his neck down, and with a flourish, the book opened. He made a performance of looking through it, as if reading the text within. His finger trailed across the page like he was reading lines. But it only traced blank paper.


    "Ah—here! Tonight''s tale is: Assistance shall reach you Shortly. It begins on an afternoon very much like this one;


    "Cars, crossing the road so very far below. Crowds, slowly fading as the shops close. Birds singing their last calls—better to try again tomorrow.


    "Our hero of this tale is one you may not know—although it is unlikely. Our hero is but our favourite streaming queen." Linh tilted his head, the storyteller''s voice rough on his throat. "Iono."


    Iono perked up from her position. She whispered to the side of the drone. "Ohmygosh Chat is this real?"


    "No chatter from the peanut gallery, please." Linh chuckled. He waved his hand, a cue to Kaolin, just out of sight. It giggled silently—bubbling—and tapped its spout. Aromatic Mist curled out. A pleasent scent filled the air—fresh brewed tea. But the audiance did not smell that.


    Instead, they saw the mist curl up and around Linh—flowing up the walls and around the lightbulb just above. Until it was just Linh, the table, and his book, shrouded in hazy light.


    "Now—this tale begins with an ending. A very important ending for Iono, in fact. The end of a stream—the day is done—no more to do.


    "Iono closed her browser, and pressed the off button—and she pulled back on her chair. Scraping against the floor. She stood up—stretching, eyes closed. Not like that matters—the only real light in that room was from her computer. And as she stood there—a fel feeling came to her.


    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    "A strange feeling—one that tickled the back of her neck. One that compelled her to be quiet—to be silent for a brief moment. Just to listen to her house. The few sounds that there were.


    "The hum of the air conditioner.


    "The buzzing of her Magnemite—somewhere in the kitchen.


    "The ticking of the clock."


    Linh paused. "Before we continue, I want you to do something important—and this is important. Please, if you have the will. Move us from the second monitor to the main monitor."


    "Hey!" Iono interrupted, affronted.


    "You''re right—move us from the third monitor," Linh said. She squawked, outraged, before he lifted his hand.


    Linh took a deep breath, "Let us put ourselves into Iono''s shoes. Here. I want you to be just as silent as she is now. To stop what you''re doing—to listen to your house. Listen to the creak, listen to the whine of electronics. Just sit—stand—lie where you are, and listen carefully. So you may experience what Iono experiences here:"


    Linh gently put the book down, and craned his neck to the side. He put a hand to his ear, and listened carefully.


    "Thank ye muchly, Electro King," Iono whispered.


    "No, not that." Linh shook his head, grinning.


    The crack of glass—shattering sundering splintering. The sound of a window smashing.


    Iono jolted back, flinching. Linh hid his grin, and promised silently extra treats for Casket. So realistic!


    Or maybe none, if Casket actually broke a window to make that sound.


    "A sound! In the night! One perplexing and worrying to hear. Glass shattering. Iono frowned—had her Magnemite shattered a cup, or something? For it came from the kitchen.


    "Iono went—she went slow and fumbling. For she must find the lights—and turn each on one by one. She moved in the dark clumsily—foot bumping against something fabricy. Curious—had she left something on the floor? But she moved on—to her kitchen.


    "''Magnemite?'' she asked, ''Have you dropped a glass again?'' she asked, blindly reaching for the light.


    "Click, went the light. And she finds Magnemite."


    Linh sighed, performatively. "Well. She found what was once Magnemite.


    "As you see—Magnemite was in no state to respond. It was... split. Split in two—two halves left to wobble on the counter top. Screws left to spin endlessly. The halves—they looked torn in two! Edges all ragged—like some acid or poison had carved and melted at them. Bleach, or something."


    Meiosis heard the signal, and Linh''s words were matched by an undercurrent of hissing spitting liquid. Angry acid that bubbled right behind the drones.


    "And Iono reeled back, and she looked up. And to her horror, she saw the glass of the window broken. Shards scattered all over the sink—out to in.


    "Something, or someone, had crawled through her window. And they have killed Magnemite.


    "And they may still be here. Iono froze—shuffling! Shuffling in the room previous!"


    Linh dared a glance towards Iono, she was frozen behind the drone. Nail-biting. Magnemite, Iono''s, was also there, in the background. Paused and watching.


    "She looks—the lights were off, but dim night still shone through from room to room.


    "There is a figure, standing in the dark. Hunched, like a creature. Tall, like a man. Iono shied just back. Just one step—and something terrible happens.


    "The floorboards under her creaks—a bone-crack. A bone snap! The creature turns."


    Linh inhaled slowly, deeply. Then again. And again. Savouring the tension. And he inha—


    He slamed the table with his hand! All fury, all motion! "Iono runs! Down the corridor, down the corner—all the way chased by a thing on thudding steps!


    "She knows not where she runs—she can''t! Panic has taken her, fear of what will happen when it takes her! Heart thundering, feet pounding, will she make it to safety?"


    Linh suddenly raised in his seat, swooping forwards jarringly. Iono skittered back, even as Meiosis pushed the drone forwards. "But where is safety? Out? To be hunted in the streets? In, to be cornered?


    "Iono chooses, in blind panic, her most comforting place—her bed. Into the room she goes and slam the door goes! Click! Goes the lock, and thud! Goes the creature. Banging against the door.


    "Iono looks around the room frantically—she needs to hide. But where? The bed? No—that''s where horror protaganists hide! The closet? No! That''s where horror protaganists die!


    "The drawer—the access panel, missing, hidden behind it."


    Linh chuckled, and fell back in his chair. "That. That may work."


    Iono was completely silent now, fully invested.


    "She moves to the dresser—and she starts to drag it. Before she pauses—the lamp on top. The dusty lamp on the dusty surface. If she pulls it back in place it may fall off. And the creature will know where she hid.


    "So instead, she moves the lamp, from one side to the other—pushing aside the clock and the plate. And she drags the drawer out—squealing masked by the creatures banging.


    "And she squeezes inside the hollow behind—and she pulls the dresser back in place.


    "Just in time—with one shuddering bang, the bedroom door falls completely off."


    Linh paused, and hunched, book brought up high, to hide his mouth. He spoke in a foul low tone. "It enters. It seeks. It stomps."


    He raised a hand high. Then brought it low. In time with his words. "Thud. Thud. Thud.


    "Thud. Thud. Thud. The figure checked under the bed.


    "Thud. Thud. Thud. The figure checked inside the closet.


    "Thud. Thud. Thud. Iono held her breath."


    Linh inhaled, and held his own breath—counting the time. Only ten seconds passed, but from Iono''s stare, it must have felt like minutes.


    He exhaled. "Thud. Thud. Thud. Fading in the distance. Iono exhales, raggedly." Linh hid his smile from watching Iono copy her fictional version.


    "Iono sat in that tight hollow quietly, mind racing as adrenalin crashed. What was she to do? What could she do?


    "Her phone felt heavy in her hand—and she knew what to do. She makesa call. And that call goes something like this:"


    Here, Linh took out from his pocket a small radio. Plastic, cheap. Not more then three thousand Pokédollers from the prop shop. He pretended to turn a knob, and static came from the fake radio.


    Inside, brambles rasped against each other. The static cleared, until a light, feminine, voice came clear.


    "''Levincia one one two, what is your emergency?''


    "Iono stared at the phone—so loud in the silence. She whispered to it. ''House intruder, my home.''


    "''Oh dear, are you in a safe place—hidden, perhaps?''


    "''Yes.'' Iono pressed the phone close to her, the little screen light the only thing she knew as true.


    "''Just stay calm, assistance is on the way.''


    "Iono carefully listened after—for shuffling or thudding from outside. ''Thank you.''"


    "''Per protocol, and so we can find you as fast as possible. We require that you stay on this call, and that you help us by sharing information.''


    "''Of course,'' Iono whispered back."


    Linh ran his hand down the book, grin hidden fully behind the paper. Now to ratchet.


    "''First—what room are you in?''


    "The hollow is hot to Iono—hot and wet, her breath fogs on the phone. It covers up the name tag. ''Bedroom.''


    "''Do you have any Pokémon with you?''


    "''No.'' Sweat makes her clothes stick to her back.


    "''Is the intruder inside the room right now?''


    "''No.''


    "The phone beeps, and the operator tuts. ''Do not worry—assistance will be with you shortly.'' And it cut off—put on hold."


    Linh leaned back again. He shifted the book in his grasp. "Iono sighs, relief. Before, tension—adrenaline! Shuffling outside again. Thudding steps again!


    "The phone beeps again, back online—with absurd speed. ''Is the intruder inside your room right now?''


    "Iono hissed through strangled cords. ''Yes.''


    "''Are you hidden under the bed?''


    "''W-what?'' Iono''s fingers tighten around her phone—plastic digging into her skin. Maybe she misheard?


    "''Are you hidden inside the closet?''


    "''Wh-why?'' She did not.


    "The operator chuckles—airy and pleasant. ''Did you forget? The dresser is dusty—except for where the lamp was,'' she tells Iono.


    "Iono blinks—and then. Horror. Dread.


    "The operator continues, blithely. ''Some more questions, if you please.''


    "Iono froze, as three, thudding impacts hit so close to her. On the wall, on the drawer." Linh raised his hand again, and thudded the table.


    "''Can you hear this?'' Thud, thud, thud. Banging on the drawer."


    "''Please.''" Linh was very proud of the tenor he mixed into his plea.


    "''Can you hear this?'' Thud, thud, thud. Banging on the drawer."


    "''No.''


    "Thud. One final impact. A hand grasps the drawer—around the edge, and slowly drags it. Wood squeals against wood.


    "As the drawer slowly slides open, Iono hears from her phone—''Do not worry; Assistance has arrived.''"


    Linh leaned back, and without warning, slammed the book shut. "And that," he spoke, with a casually light tone. "Is all the time we have for today! I hope you enjoyed storytime with Linh, if you did; Remember to like, comment, and subscribe! Buh-bye, adiós, auf wiedersehen, au revoir, and to all, I bid a good night."


    He waited for Iono to press the button. And then for Meiosis to do it, because Iono wasn''t moving.


    Linh waited for Iono to speak, but she didn''t. So he did it first.


    "Presence, I think I get it now."


    </abbr>


    A dressing room. Well. A dressing closet. Full length mirror, curved bench built into the wall, thick black curtains.


    Linh sat on the bench, and watched himself. Hands down, wrapped around Casket (gnawing his thumb), posture slouched. In the mirror, a curled up man watched back—in clothes comfy, but not respectable. Hoodie with the drawstrings threaded loose, blank boring t-shirt, rough fabric trousers.


    He shifted, stretching his back—and his long hair flicked backwards. Long, straight, black. Pinned by a simple hairband into a ponytail. Linh rolled his shoulders, and began.


    First, he pulled his thumb out of Casket''s mouth, and deposited her at his feet. Palm against her head, and with the slightest pressure, she sunk into his shadow. Next, clothes off—dumped in a pile by a thick canvas bag on the bench.


    Then, clothes on. A dress shirt, buttoned down. Untucked, with the sleeves snapped to his wrists.


    A sweater, thin, woollen. Dull purple. No buttons, with sleeves folded back. Comfort over style.


    Trousers, light grey, polyester.


    Linh tilted his head, inspecting himself again. The reflection felt at the collar—where the shirt''s collar were pinned under the wool. He popped them out.


    Ash blue coat, many pocketed inside and out. Another layer, because Linh just doesn''t feel hot, apparently. He holds it up before the mirror, and turns it around. Inside one of the pockets is a key ring, littered with key chains. Cheap key chains with small hard plastic figures, or tiny wool dolls.


    Each figure and doll a ghost. A Banette of polyurethane. A Duskull from yarn—eye formed by a string ''x''. Linh held up a Polteageist, and showed to the mirror.


    The reflection of the Polteageist toy blinked—and it grew into a bigger, full sized Polteageist. Kaolin floated out from the mirror, and batted the key chain like a cat.


    Linh huffed, "It''s a penlight, too." He flipped the thumb size toy over, and pressed down on the spout. A little light shining onto Kaolin''s face—refracting in its tea.


    Kaolin took the keychain with a giggle, and floated out of the dressing room (closet).


    Linh chuckled, and turned back to the key ring. He un-clipped each little plastic toy one by one, and turned to his coat.


    There, on the back, and on the sleeves and the front. Little loops of fabric. He was unsure what they were for originally—but he would use them now for the ghosts.


    Soon enough, Linh held up his coat again. Bedecked in ghostly effigies, that whapped against the fabric as he swished it. Wool and plastic, voodoo dolls hanging.


    Linh put on the coat, and hummed appreciatively at his form in the mirror.


    He turned to his bag. A large canvas bag, meant to sling over the shoulder, and rests on the curve of his back. He put it on, and rummaged through it. A nylon mesh ran just under the zipper, hiding the inside in shadows. Something pleasant to Menace—Bramblin thorns curled up inside. And also something to Shadow Sneak inside—a dog tongue licked Linh''s palm.


    Linh took from the bag two things, a single incense stick, and a piece of hard candy.


    He lit the incense stick, and breathed in the scents it gave—Frankincense and sandalwood, the scents of a church. He set it down and let it smoulder away for the ghosts.


    He unwrapped the candy—lemon—and popped it in his mouth. It crunched away as Linh inspected himself in the mirror, twisting slightly to see the sides.


    Satisfied, Linh retrieved the final part of his outfit—what he would wear in Trainer battles. To better set his ''presence'', his ''persona''. Kayfabe.


    A slip of paper, wide as his face, and long enough to trail down to his neck. He pressed it against his face. Held to the brow by prosthetic adhesive.


    It read:


    ブ


    ー


    !


    Phonetically, ''Boo!''


    A practise tag—one that Linh could see through, but no other could. A product of his creation.


    Linh looked at himself in the mirror, he straightened his back, and tilted his head slightly—bare movements made noticeable by the expressionless face. Magnified by the papers slight shifts. He looked down, at his shadow. Where Casket fidgeted. Dog energy making her move. Then her movement making Linh''s shadow move.


    "This," Linh stated. "Is me."


    And he felt satisfied.


    He then took off the tag, and then his coat. He folded both and held them behind him. Where shadowy paws reached up and vanished them into his shadow. Leaving Linh just a man dressed a bit old-fashioned.


    He still had time to prepare, and it''ll be a shame to waste the outfits debut before his rematch.