I Sting (Pokemon Poison Type Specialist)

Virah locked her Pokemon to her hip and threw on her bag.

She double checked if her team was tightly bound to her magnetic belt and when she confirmed that they were, she went back to the bathroom and checked herself over.

She reached up and touched her hair, it was still wet so she grabbed a towel from the nearby shelf and squeezed it dry, next was her hands, then her clothes, her mouth, and she was about to do it all over again when she stopped herself.

'I'm probably ready,' she reassured herself, 'and it's not like the other passengers would look at me all the time…'

Come to think of it, her concern of the other passengers being high class trainers probably doesn't make sense right?..

After all, Elite Trainers would want to ride their own Pokemon instead of a ship.

Virah nodded, 'yes, that's correct, there are no Elite Trainers here and I won't be judged,'

She got out of the bathroom, walked to the door of her room, reached out for the handle and suddenly stopped, 'maybe I should check myself one last time-'

So she did, and after the second time, she was able to reach out for the handle and twist the door open.

Virah scanned the hallway from left to right, as expected, it was empty. She stepped outside and locked her room before checking in on Whitney and Grene.

She knocked on the doors to Whitney's cabin once, twice, and by the third time, the door swung open, revealing a disgruntled looking Whitney.

"Did you also sleep?" Virah asked.

"Yeah…" the pinkette yawned, "I- what time is it?"

"Around halfway through the afternoon," Virah answered, "I set my alarm to go off at that time so…"

"Ah," Whitney groaned, "thank you for waking me up, I'll dress up so wait for me okay?"

"Mhmm." Virah nodded and when Whitney closed the door, she knocked on Grene's door, "hey,"

"Virah?" Grene opened the door fully, "so you've woken up?"

"Yeah…" she replied, "you didn't sleep?"

The martial artist shook her head, "no, I wanted to practice my Aura,"

"It's fine you know?" Virah looked down, her feet uncomfortably rubbed against each other, "you just need to tell Knuckle to not go out of line and you'll be fine,"

"No, something like that was my fault," Grene shook her head, "if I was stronger, then I would have been able to keep Knuckle under control,"

"But is that fine?" Virah looked Grene up and down, "you look tired, maybe you can just, you know, not… train- you can discipline Knuckle instead,"

Grene's suspicious look told Virah that even she didn't believe the poison specialist had her thoughts in order when it came to Knuckle's entire situation.

"There's no telling that Knuckle won't get out of control when I release him on an arena again, he can always just ignore my orders when he thinks that it won't make him strong," Grene argued, "I need to keep up with him if I want to help him avenge his dojo,"

"You do that then…" Virah trailed off, "I wish you luck,"

Grene nodded, "thank you," she looked around, "is Whitney still asleep?"

"No, she's changing right now," Virah answered.

"Well I should do that too," Grene slowly closed the door, "see you,"

"Mhmm." Virah waved her friend goodbye.

'All that talk about books not being real and you get caught up in a cliche,' Virah smiled fondly, 'well, maybe that's not always a good thing,'

She told herself to start checking up on Grene's health in the near future and then went away from the martial artist's cabin.

She stood in front of Whitney's cabin to wait and to pass the time, she took out her notebook and reviewed her notes on her vial.

Every about it so far had been positive, she hasn't tested it sure, but the current goals she had written down were being finished one after another.

'The electric type energy is holding up well, it hasn't degraded so far and both watt and voltage are the same since the dust was charged…'

Virah skipped a page to write down her observation before putting down inquiries on now she could test out the dust's shelf life further.

'Burying it in sand or dirt should suffuse it with enough ground type energy to start corroding it over time…' Virah bit the bud of her pen in contemplation, 'if it does corrode, I should test out the corrosion in different kinds of soil,'

Virah pressed the tip of her pen on the page, 'mud, dry earth, course sand, loose sand, gravel, dirt, pebbles-' Virah erased the last one, deeming that it was closet to Rock Type Energy rather than Ground.

Inquiries, possible tests, and influental factors were written down one by one during her wait and Virah filled up a few pages with condensed sentences about theories related to the dust by the time Whitney and Grene had finished.

"Did you just stand there all this time?" Whitney asked as she closed the door behind her, "are your legs tired?"

"Yes, and no," Virah shook her head, "and even if my legs are tired right now, I'll write it off as exercise,"

"I guess?" Whitney replied in confusion, "so what are you writing about anyway?"

"The Thunder Stone," Virah replied, "it's not that important for now since what I'm doing to it is still on the early stages,"

"So you're experimenting with a Thunder Stone?" Grene tapped her cheek in curiosity, "that sounds interesting, what are you doing with it?"

"I'm trying to see if I can recreate electric type moves," Virah answered, "so far nothing, I haven't tested it out yet,"

"Recreate moves?" Whitney's brows shot up, "with a Thunder Stone?"

"Any stones could work actually," Virah narrowed her eyes in contemplation, "but I don't really know what to do with the volatility of a Fire Stone or the fluidity of a Water Stone so…"

"I'm sure you'll figure it out," Grene said, she stepped forward and held out her hand, "can I see?"

"Here," Virah handed her the vial packed with glowing dust, "how does it feel?"

"My hands are tingly," Grene commented, she handed Virah back the vial.

"Thought so," Virah smiled, "I never really felt something like that while touching the vial so I thought I made a mistake but I guess my aura is protecting me from the paralysis,"

"So that's paralysis in a bottle?" Grene pointed at the dust.

"Yep," Virah shook it around, causing yellow sparks to crackle within the glass and for their hair to stand up, "interesting right?"

"It looks so pretty…" Whitney held out her hand, "can I?"

"Sure," Virah gave it to the pinkette.

Whitney started shaking it around, causing more sparks to form and for the dust inside to start heating up.

The glow got stronger the more she shook and Virah was about to tell her to stop but the light bulbs suddenly flickering above them stopped Whitney before she could speak.

"Uh…" Whitney held out the vial, "here?"

"Thanks," Virah put it back inside her bag, "we should probably go,"

"Let's go,"

"Yep, we definitely, one hundred percent need to leave."

Their hastened footsteps eventually brought them to the ship's cafeteria where a large portion of the passengers were eating their meal.

"I didn't expect a lot of people to be here," Virah looked around nervously, she didn't spot a single Elite Trainer but they're probably hiding right?

"Do you guys think there's someone in here who has 8 badges?" Virah asked as they neared the counter.

"Probably a few," Grene said as she eyed the trays of food next to them, "you two should probably grab a tray,"

"Ah,"/"on it!" Virah and Whitney said at the same time.

The pinkette handed Virah a tray, "here,"

"Thanks," Virah returned her friend's smile, "so there are completionists here huh?"

"Prettyyy much," Whitney drawled, "it's kind of hard not to have one of them here, since there's at least two thousand people on board,"

"I guess," Virah eyed the crowd.

"Why, do you want to talk to one of them or something?" Grene mentioned as she picked out two drumsticks, "fried Pidgey," she said, "hm, I'll grab a few more of these for good measure,"

"You sure you won't get fat from that?" Whitney grinned at the martial artist.

"Nope," Grene replied with a shrug, "I need the meat, I'm a growing girl after all,"

Virah kept her eyes on the crowd as her friends exchanged teases with each other, she was feeling anxious at the thought of meeting an actual professional trainer.

'They probably won't judge me,' she internally consoled herself as she started picking her own food.