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[worldisyours]

WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, RINDO KANADE. FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 4.28.13.9 *** rindragon has joined 4.28.13.9

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[familyproblem]

[That's not the goal, actually.

...Or is it?

He...can't clarify his point when he's not sure what his own point is. What can he fall back on here to find it? What he wants—who asked him that. That was Beat, wasn't it. He has to decide whether this is about avoiding his mother, or protecting people from her, or trying to help her. Or, if he can, do more than one of those things. But one has to come first, if he wants to be sure he has a goal...

So, his first answer is a blink. It's almost a brush-off. He could say, I'll be fine. What I'm really worried about is— and he'd be a dirty fucking liar and have to sit with that on his conscience.

So.

...

He can't say yes; he can't say no. (He's mortified.) He doesn't have a truth to tell. Can he tell what's getting in the way of the truth?]

...Anything I do about her is going to have repercussions. Anything I don't do about her is even more likely to have repercussions. [...Ugh.] And...it's been a while since I had a real goal in mind, regarding her.

[worldisyours]

[…There's no easy way out, then, or no way out at all. Avoidance isn't the goal, but rather the consequence of having no goal, so at best, Rindo's stated intent would not actually do anything to help, just prevent things from getting worse. Which is something, but it's not enough.

Rindo's reply does not come immediately. He's thinking. And the more he thinks, the more he realizes that he can't get anywhere without more info. But first…]

Do you wanna talk about that? Try to figure out what to do about her? I can't promise I'll come up with anything good, but I can try…

[Maybe Gladion can bounce ideas off him, at least.]

[familyproblem]

[Hah, Gladion chuckles voicelessly, wry and quiet to bleed off his discomfort. Look how bad he is at this, sitting here with the right choice being handed straight to him and still struggling against it.]

Alright. [Alright. If for nothing else, then for Rindo's sake, because he's who's here right now. Gladion looks back up, and seems to fortify himself again, breathing in through his nose and banishing some of the uncertainty from his posture.] Then I should start with what I'm actually concerned she might do. Right?

[worldisyours]

[A rather solemn nod from Rindo, who can tell Gladion is trying his best despite being far out of his element. …It feels strange to be in the helper position, for once. The pressure to do right by Gladion weighs heavily on his mind.]

Right.

[And, seeing an opportunity, Rindo seizes it:]

…What did she actually do, back home? Just so I know what she's… capable of, I guess.

[…Hopefully that's not an obnoxiously redundant question.]

[familyproblem]

[It's a perfectly cogent question in Gladion's eyes. It's kind of the crux of the whole issue: what she's done isn't what she'll do, necessarily. But they're related. And the space between the two things is so much to explain. It requires a lot of context. It also reveals a lot about her, and a lot about him.

(...And part of him is still apprehensive about inviting questions he won't be able to answer, the same as it always was.)

But that's a whole lot of excuses.]

...This might be a long story. [With the disclaimer handled, he...stops perching on the edge of the bed. Pushes himself back onto it properly, then backs up to the wall, so he can stretch his legs out a little. Lean his head back, cross his arms. Get...not comfy, but a little more settled, appropriate for a "long story".]

My mother is...or was, rather, the president of an international organization known as the Aether Foundation. The Foundation's operations were—are, very...diverse. But for context for any of this, they include...various human and Pokemon welfare activities, as well as research, largely in that same area. Environmental conservation, biomedical science. Among other things.

[It is so much to explain.]

My mother... [No, wait. Grimace. Backtrack for additional, even more So Much Context.] Years ago, one of the Foundation's less public projects found— [GRIMACE. COMPRESS.] —effectively, another world. Or a space between worlds, because it was much...closer to ours than this one or anything else—I don't know the fine distinctions. They called it Ultra Space. And there were creatures that could fall through into our world from it, if a wormhole formed under the right conditions. Knowing what I know now, they're far more like Pokemon than like anything from [finally glances up at Rindo for a moment] actual other worlds. But they're not Pokemon, and from where they were standing—where we were standing—Ultra Beasts were very...alien. And dangerous.

[worldisyours]

[It's a good thing, then, that Rindo's grown used to long stories. He leans back, chin resting on his palm, and listens attentively.

Perhaps contrary to Gladion's expectations, he doesn't react with confusion at the mention of, essentially, Pokémon aliens. He knows better than to doubt the tale, and frankly it's much easier to follow than Beat's explanation of the Reapers' Game and its many tangents.

…He does remark to himself the odd coincidence that his two closest friends are both kids of rich parents who've done wrong by them.

His question is more of a way for him to nudge Gladion to continue, rather than something he's concerned the other Nymph won't address:]

So something had to be done about them, right?

[familyproblem]

Right. And that was the direction the project took. Understand how wormholes form, and develop countermeasures against Ultra Beasts. But there was a point at which...[my father vanished into thin air, and] my mother's priorities changed. She withdrew, personally, from the UB investigation. And she went ahead with a plan to build a new headquarters for the Foundation in Alola. There's not enough space on the islands for that much construction, so they built it offshore as an island of its own. Aether Paradise.

[...More context. How does he get across what it was. They don't...do this here, with animals.]

...See, one of the Foundation's major initiatives has always been promoting peaceful coexistence between humans and Pokemon. Specifically, as technology advances, it causes conflicts due to habitat loss, or...cultural changes. Displaced or abused Pokemon that retaliate. In Alola, the situation is especially delicate because the islands have limited space and a unique ecosystem. And the traditions that preserve the balance aren't as strong as they used to be. So there was...interest in a large facility dedicated to rehabilitating injured wild Pokemon. A large part of Aether Paradise is set up for that. It also created more space for research laboratories, and the president's residence, too.

[...]

A lead researcher named Faba got a bit of a promotion in the process, to Alola Branch Chief. He also happened to be in charge of the UB investigation.

[From that point forward.

The awkward reading-from-a-textbook part is over, yielding to the awkward trying-to-explain-personal-dynamics part. Gladion's expression has soured considerably over discussion of Faba.]

At this point, my mother...ceded a lot to him, from what I understand. Not on paper, but in practice. He brought her good news, and she let him do what he wanted. Because around that time, she started to become really obsessed with appearances. And the conservation deck was like a dream come true for that. She could dote on injured Pokemon for a while, without needing to do the hardest work herself, and they'd be released before they wore out their welcome with her. And she built a glittering public image on it, too. Nobody would guess from a distance that there were selfish motivations behind all the good things the Aether Foundation did.

[We gear up for the second turning point.]

[worldisyours]

[…Continuing to diligently absorb all of this info. He's pretty good at it! Rindo looks serious and focused, and if Gladion meets his eyes, he'll simply nod as if to say "keep going". No questions for now.]

[familyproblem]

She must have been getting bored of Pokemon when the UB investigation hit a snag. They knew a way that wormholes opened, but the Beast Killer project didn't quite live up to expectations. But that suited her just fine, because she decided she was more interested in bringing UBs to our world than protecting anyone from them. And Faba was happy to indulge her. Instead of preventing wormholes from opening, they'd do it on purpose.

They...found a UB they called Cosmog. An infant, really. We learned exactly why it worked this way later—when it feels it's in danger, its instinct is to tear open a wormhole to escape into our world, away from its attacker. Since it's an instinct, it doesn't matter if it's already in our world. So Faba's team, at Mother's behest, tormented Cosmog to further their research. And once they had the process down to a science...

[Once Lillie had run away, and Lusamine felt like she had nothing left to lose...?]

The last step was to find a scapegoat. She reached out to someone...manipulable, not connected to the Foundation, with a bad reputation and a bit of an inferiority complex. She fed his ego and gave him the very generous gift of a Cosmog. And lied about the specifics of what UBs were, of course. He expected to be ordering around the "biggest and baddest" Pokemon there were, and instead he unleashed a rampage across the biggest of the islands. It was a full-scale disaster that she never had to answer for.

And she was happy to leave it like that. [Sounding kind of exhausted now—but wait, there's more!] She went quiet for months while things fell apart around her. Just...let Faba run wild. Had the Foundation work on modifying Pokeballs to work on UBs so she could play around with them like they were pets [or, you know, children?] instead of just admiring them from a distance. By the time...anyone managed to put a stop to it, besides wreaking all kinds of havoc, she'd also put herself into, practically, a coma from getting too friendly with a neurotoxic UB. Physically fusing with it.

[And that really is where things were, wasn't it.]

...You can imagine how it sounded to hear she was enthusiastic about turning into a cannibal bug. And that she'd been doting on Beat. He's a lot nicer than Guzma was, but a pattern is a pattern.

[God. Ugh.]

[worldisyours]

[Rindo had been able to keep his expression neutral up till now, but the story is quickly veering into disturbing territory, and he's starting to feel severely out of his depth. The scale of what Gladion is describing sounds far beyond that of the Reapers' Games. Rindo doubts he would have been able to deal with any of that—and he's starting to believe any advice from him would just be useless.

Not only that, but the thought of Beat getting involved with someone like Lusamine turns his stomach—because suddenly, this turns into something that's far too close for comfort. Even if Rindo doesn't remember Beat, they live together. If Lusamine turned up at the house, he would have a hard time pretending he isn't aware of what she's done. He still would, but…

…This is a mess. Why can't things be simple for once?]

…Ugh. Yeah.

[He's at a loss for words. "I'm sorry"? "That sucks"? There's nothing he can add that doesn't sound hopelessly asinine in the face of the situation. He still wants to help, but… what can he even do? He looks down, gaze fixed on some random point on the floor, his tail vine curling in on itself.]

[familyproblem]

[Gladion doesn't look up at Rindo. The beat of silence interprets itself—he's stunned, he's sympathetic, he's wary of associating with Gladion, he's drawing further conclusions about Lusamine. Or more than one of those? What keeps Gladion from telling people about any of this isn't fear, exactly, but more of a sense of exhaustion, apprehension: every part of it raises questions, and those questions demand very careful answers. He's never quite enough to provide them. Control slips away and unease slips in. What happens now? What have I invited? He's lost the precarious comfort of being a mystery.

He very quickly forgets what he'd just been reminded of. There is a powerful impulse to assure the room that, even if he doesn't already have the answers, he's at least considered the questions.]

People have told me that she seems happier as a monster than she did as a human. The thing is, I know there are people who can say that, but I'm not convinced she's one of them. She likes new things, until she gets bored and moves on to something else. Being a monster is just something different from being a Pokemon trainer or being...fused with a UB. She was apparently an angel to Beat until she got tired of him. It's when she can't run away from something that she shows her colors, and I wouldn't be surprised if one of these days she caused something...drastic to happen. If she were upset enough, it's not like she'd start caring about the collateral damage.

[And yet...

He crosses one leg over the other. And uncrosses it.]

And then, there's the subject of where I stand in any of this. [The emotion is purged from his voice. Mostly.] I don't have any direct influence over her. If anything, I provoke her. I know things people here don't about her...but there's plenty I don't know about what she's done here. I didn't know about this Jodariel character, for instance. And she never used Beat the way she used Guzma. She just dropped him. [...sardonically:] It's not my job to keep her from being mean to people. [less sardonically:] But if she ends up on a path to cause more catastrophes, that is my business. One way or another.

[worldisyours]

[So, Gladion's concerned that Lusamine will go and trigger one of the monthly horrors on a whim, with no regard for the consequences. That does sound concerningly in-character.

But… how in the world can either of them do anything to stop that, with even Gladion himself admitting that he has no influence over her? If she won't listen to her own son, he stands no chance of making a difference.

That aside, there's something about Gladion's attitude that's putting Rindo on edge. Is he doing the thing again? He sounds so serious. Hardly unusual for him, but…]

What do you mean, it's your business?

[It's probably better to ask him to clarify first—less… confrontational. Rindo looks up as he speaks, to try and scan Gladion's expression.]

[familyproblem]

[Gladion's expression, when Rindo first glances up, is clearly unhappy. Not severe enough to be angry, but just enough to look frustrated rather than only downcast.

He catches Rindo's glance out of his peripheral vision, though, and meets his eyes after a moment. That note of severity recedes. His gaze flicks away again quickly, self-consciously.

The stiffness he started the conversation with has slowly drained out of him, from his voice and face and posture. There's a little of it lingering, but his words gradually come less prepared and his stern mask splinters away. Right now he just looks kind of tired.]

Whatever she thinks of the fact, she is my mother. There are already people who know we're related. I won't be able to avoid her forever even if I did want to.

[worldisyours]

[This is all clearly getting to him. No wonder; it'd mess with anyone. Rindo has no clue how he'd handle all this, in his place. (…"Poorly" is a given, at least.)

So, Gladion doesn't want to cut his mother off completely. Well, if that had been his intent, Rindo supposes this would have been a lot less complicated. Rindo keeps his focus on Gladion, watching for his reaction, as he asks:]

I mean, yeah, but… What she does is still up to her, right?

[For better or for worse…]

Do you think she might try to drag you into things? [From Gladion's own description of his mother, it sounds unlikely. He's just making sure.] Or… that people would blame you if she does something?

[That sounds even more unlikely… but "people" includes Gladion himself, and Rindo has a feeling he'd be first in line to take the blame, if the way the conversation's been going is any indication.]

[familyproblem]

[A moment of silence.

Gladion looks faintly frustrated, like he's wrangling himself to actually stop and think about those questions instead of throwing out some automatic retort. Or like he doesn't like the answer he wants to give.]

...Now you sound like the twins, [he mutters wryly.]

[But he's still thinking.]

[worldisyours]

[Getting somewhere, maybe?

Rindo is flattered by the comparison, evidently. He looks surprised for a moment before his expression relaxes into a small smile.]

Good. Must mean I'm doing something right.

[…Because they care about Gladion, and they know him better than he does.]

[familyproblem]

[The corners of his mouth lift for a moment. But it's only a moment, the smile never really materializing on Gladion's face—his quip was light, but there's something more bitter than sweet about the whole thought.

Still wrestling with the questions, he backs up and takes them one at a time.]

I don't know whether she'd drag me into things on purpose, but I doubt it. [Alright. Question two.] Not many people know about us to make the connection if she did something. Though it wouldn't be hard if you met both of us. She has a Pokemon with her, and we look alike. [...Shakes his head because he's digressing. Would people blame him? And is that even what he's concerned about?]

The...surrounding circumstances are so different here.

[This is not an answer. But Gladion closes his eyes after that and finally commits to something more like one.]

No, I'm not worried about...blame. But if something happened, and I hadn't done anything about it—like confronting her, or telling people things they should know—I would never be satisfied with that. If she—

[Opens his eyes again, running a hand back through his hair.]

If I had to admit to my sister—if I even imagine admitting to her—that I didn't try to stop Mother from...destroying herself even further, let alone keep hurting other people, I wouldn't—I don't want that.

[worldisyours]

[…There it is. It's pretty much as Rindo thought. Gladion feels responsible for Lusamine's actions. Of course he does.

Something's caught his attention, though, and it feels important, like he's finally unearthing a key piece of the puzzle.]

You have a sister? She… isn't here, right?

[…He doesn't like asking that question. There's no answer that doesn't hurt to hear, or to say.]

[familyproblem]

[The driest hah you've ever heard, and the dull thunk of the back of Gladion's head against the wall.]

No, no she's not. I left her with a fine mess to deal with, but at least she's not here. And there are people looking out for her.

[worldisyours]

[Big sigh.]

…Right. Okay.

[Rindo leans back on his chair and closes his eyes for a moment. Thinking about what to say.

It's hard not to feel like he's stepping all over something he has no business being involved in. Easy to, in his relative ignorance, only make things worse. It certainly wouldn't be the first time.

But maybe there's a small thing he can say? And whether he'll be believed is yet to be seen.]

…Here's how I see it.

[He opens his eyes and looks at Gladion.]

You didn't choose any of this. [Not to leave your sister behind, not to be sent here, not for your mother to do the things she does.] It's not something you have to fix. Hell, even if it was all your fault, I feel like it's just… way too much.

[He averts his gaze.]

I get that you don't want to leave things as they are, but I'm worried you're beating yourself up over it way too much. It's hard enough just… existing here.

[…Preempting a possible objection now:]

I'm not saying don't do anything. Just… your sister's not here. I think you might be the only one who can still be hurt by this whole situation directly, you know? Does… does that make sense?

[familyproblem]

[So what if he didn't choose it? What matters is the outcome—if he walks away, bad things happen.

But—thinking of Lillie—Gladion holds his tongue, peering cautiously down his face at Rindo. What he hears doesn't surprise him. It's like what he's heard from Lillie before. And he winces after Rindo looks away, because that would have been his retort, and he doesn't have one past it.

He can't leave things as they are.

But: it's way too much.

When has it ever not been? Isn't that just how you grow? It's not ideal, but if you don't have ideal, you have to work with good enough. It's not ever going to stop being like that. Things don't end neatly in real life. Rindo knows that; it's why he says I get it, I know, I'm not saying don't do anything.

...You know?]

...It does. [He's looking elsewhere. Up at the ceiling, head still tipped back against the wall, tension rotted away. This last point is also not a surprise—just a grim, embarrassing reality he was willing to trade away until Rindo said it out loud. Maybe his mother could hurt someone. And maybe there's nothing exceptional about that, here in Ryslig. So maybe this isn't the big deal he thought it was, and maybe he didn't need to induct Rindo into it, and maybe, this is in fact just dragging—

—asking for help.

Whatever the hell that's supposed to mean.]

It makes sense. [He sounds weary.] You're probably right.

[worldisyours]

[Suddenly, now that he's on the other side of… saying what he meant to say, Rindo finds himself sharing Gladion's obvious frustration.

Now what? This is all well and good, but regardless of Gladion's agreement, this is still clearly bothering him—not that Rindo was expecting anything less. Frankly, he's not sure that his words have truly sunk in, but who knows how long Gladion's been feeling the way he does. He wasn't expecting to upend his entire worldview with just a short little speech. Rindo stays silent for a good while, frowning at nothing in particular as he thinks.

…There's a lot of people here who have little scruple about hurting others, or who simply don't care how their actions might affect everyone. Rindo's not been here for long, but he knows that, for instance, the weird fog in March had been caused by one of the monsters of Ryslig, and that this sort of thing is a common occurrence. Gladion's description of Lusamine, the accuracy of which he has no reason to doubt, paints her as someone who would gleefully join these troublemaking ranks. And if she does, everyone gets screwed over.

But if it's not Lusamine getting up to no good, it'll be someone else, he's sure of it. He's already given up any hope of a peaceful life—monthly horrors for the rest of time. That, he can do nothing about. Giving a friend some support, though… maybe he can manage that. This is really what all this has been about from the start, for him.

…And so, it begs one question:

What had she done to Gladion?

At last, Rindo speaks up, quietly, his tone halfway between gentle and hesitant. Looking back at Gladion again—it's easier when their eyes don't meet.]

How did she treat you, back home?

[And, as if to dull the edge of that too-personal query:]

You don't have to answer if you don't want to. I just… it sounds like she wasn't a great mom.

[He cringes slightly at his own wording there. Yeah, no shit. Perhaps in an attempt to distract Gladion from the blunder, he continues.]

It might help to talk about it. I… I know talking to Shoka about stuff helped me, back in our world, even if she didn't always have a solution to give.

[Frankly, it's insulting to even begin to compare the scale of his problems back home to that of Gladion's, but surely it's not complete garbage advice, generally speaking? He can only hope to match Swallow's level of comfort-giving. He knows he's not as good at it as she is.]

cw parental emotional abuse

[familyproblem]

[He's gotten this question before, or something close enough to it. And he always deflects: she didn't do anything to me.

It's always been a conscious lie. What Gladion means is: that's not as important as the rest of it. And what he means by that is: none of your business. And on some level, he knows what he's doing, and knows it's not the best choice, and holds to it stubbornly because it feels wrong to change course anyways. He just can't. He won't. Unless he has to. Unless—unless you know the same things he knows, about how it's wrong and embarrassing but practical and correct, and you have to justify it and make up for it. Unless you can speak the same language of shame his own mind does.

Gladion huffs. It's a boneless laugh, but not an acidic one.] I know. [He knows what Rindo doesn't mean to imply, the same way Rindo knows what he doesn't mean to imply.] Yeah. I can try, I don't know how much sense it'll make. She always...

[...]

There was something wrong with her for years, but she mostly showed it in small ways. It's hard to explain.

[He's relaxed. It's a weird sort of relaxation, but he is relaxed. It is easier when their eyes don't meet.]

She treated us like dolls. Like...she was obsessed with appearances. [As he said.] And part of that was, she couldn't see us doing anything that wasn't her decision. Lillie and I—we didn't get exactly the same treatment, but that was pretty much the same between us. Sometimes she showed it in different ways. And she was sort of the same way with anyone else who reflected on her, and the Foundation as a whole. And the house. But, you know, rooms don't complain when you redecorate them. And employees go home at the end of the day. She couldn't go through their belongings, or tell them what to wear off the clock.

[The clothes. There's always this unique frustration attached to that whole thing. He knows how important it was. He knows how much it hurt Lillie. He knows how he reacted to it. But it always sounds more frivolous out loud than it does in his head.

Ugh.]

Also, she changed over time. She gradually got worse, but she'd also go back and forth. If she was distracted, or uninterested, she wouldn't pay as much attention. But then once she did notice something that wasn't right, she'd come back with a vengeance. So it was always kind of a balancing act, trying to catch a break when you could but not doing anything that would count against you later. Especially out of the house. Because most people on Aether Paradise didn't actually know how she was, so things would get back to her, and even if they were fine she'd still...

[Waves his hand a bit. That got away from him, actually, let's pivot.]

That was the thing, overall. She could just make up a reason to be frustrated. She could look at something she would have decided, but get mad about it because she hadn't been there to decide on it. So there was never really a foolproof way to keep her happy. Just going along with what she wanted from moment to moment.

[worldisyours]

[Rindo's not too worried about sense-making. Horrors tend to be hard to describe, words tumbling out before feelings can begin to make sense in your head. (…Memories of talking about changes.) If that's what it takes for Gladion to untangle the situation, he's happy to be the catalyst for it.

But as it turns out, Gladion makes complete sense, perhaps in the way only someone with some amount of perspective can when discussing these sorts of things. It's not a surprise, either. It's painfully obvious that he's thought about this… a lot. Probably too much. Who could blame him?

…

So. A volatile control freak, who lashed out when she didn't get her way. A lot of little things about Gladion are suddenly recontextualized. "My interests before were a bit limited by outside circumstances." The way he values his space and his autonomy, like something hard-earned. And yeah, the clothes. There's no way his mother would have cared for his current aesthetic. (…Aggressively pushing thoughts of Fret away. Fashion's always a fraught topic.)

It's hard to hear all this—though obviously not as hard as living it, of course. It fans an ember of furious indignation in his chest, for which he has no outlet. And there's a sharp pang of guilt at his comparatively much, much better home life. His parents never did anything like this to him. (…Sucking air in through his teeth, flinching as if he'd touched a hot stove, pushing all of that away too because now isn't the time.)

…Despite all of this, Gladion doesn't want to cut off his mother. Whether that's wise or foolish, done out of a sense of responsibility or homesickness or both—he couldn't say. And he's not about to weigh in with an outsider's opinion.]

Sounds like you went through hell.

[…That's safe enough. And it's not enough.]

…You didn't—you don't deserve to be treated like that. You and Lillie.

[Still not enough. Maybe Rindo's saying this for his own sake. Stating the plain, obvious truth, in some kind of attempt to make sense of a world where things like these are allowed to happen.

He stares at the ground in between them, his jaw set tight. Frustrated. He wants to help, but he can't fix things and anything he says feels inadequate. How does Swallow deal with him?]

[familyproblem]

[There was a time when he thought that was all he wanted to hear. To reach the finish line, stop her schemes, bring her back, and have someone—her, Lillie, he didn't know—look at him with admiration and say, I can't believe you made it through all of that.

He thought a lot of things, back then.

It's awkward now. It's true. It's still down in the muck with the two of them, where clumsiness is the rule.]

Yeah. [Yeah.] It wasn't...a question of deserving. We were just there. [Wicke said something like that once.] I know because she didn't stop. After we left. I...

[Sigh.]

Something stupid about the whole thing is, I knew she was bad. She wasn't like that before. Even when it was gradual, it was—I knew it wasn't right. [More or less. Most of the time.] But I also...didn't. I didn't think I should...do anything about—not even that. There wasn't much I could do. But I didn't even think it through. [Is this a distinction without a difference? It feels like there's a difference.] Not until Silvally. I left because I found out about the UBs and the Beast Killer. It put this whole...idea in my head about what would happen if I stole it and ran away. But none of that actually made sense. And it sure didn't happen that way. But—

[What was his point? Gladion runs a hand back through his hair, swallowing back the scrambling feeling that was starting to run circles around him.]

...I don't regret leaving. Obviously. It still turned out for the better, for everyone, eventually. [Bluh.] What was I saying. [Bluuuugh.] Silvally is the Beast Killer. Mother changing the project meant, maybe they'd let it out now and then, or maybe they'd just shove it into cryostorage and forget about it. That's how I realized what the stakes were. For...us. She treated us one way because we're her own human children she was stuck with, and if we were Pokemon she'd let us get shoved in boxes when she was done with us too.

[Exhale.] Anyways. One reason I came up with was that I'd scare her into waking up. Or taking Silvally would screw up her plans and she'd have to stop. Just, either way, running away would fix things there too. But it didn't. She came down even harder on Lillie when I wasn't there. And after Lillie ran too, she went on ahead with the master plan.

[Point made. He thinks. After taking the long way around. He got a little worked up along the way—not, like, tearful or anything, just a little agitated from how much there always is.]

I'm fine. [For the record. In case the sudden rash of sighs and hair-fussing implied otherwise.] It's just a mess.