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Novelux Dunsmuir Duel Dome

Jackie Cat

A cat who writes stories.
Heartache staff
Pronoun
they or she
Your ears ring with the cheers and stomps of the crowd. Your eyes squint at furious flashes of energy from the field. Your nose fills with the heady scents of fried food and cheap beer – or if you're in the front row, the acrid tang of battling 'mon. Your fur prickles with adrenaline, anticipation, aura. It's so close you can almost taste it.

Most fans of the biggest coliseum in Novelux say you have to be there to truly “get it”. Most of the Commonwealth disdains battle arenas and street rings of almost any kind, but the reputation of the Duel Dome is such that pilgrims will come to it from as far as Magna City to watch the fights. After experiencing it firsthand, some found it addictive – the Dome was rapidly becoming a cultural institution of Novelux, yet anothing of its bright, loud, modern declarations that the city lived in the future, distinct from the ageing East. It was, above all, extremely cool.

In the moments between matches, staff members scurried about to deploy an array of props and contraptions to set the conditions on stage for each fight. A biting chill to envelop a pair of Fire-types, compelling them to grit their teeth against the cold; a quagmire of muck for 'mon both nimble and behemothic to struggle through; a shimmering bubble of Wonder Orb energy enclosing two fighters in the tight confines of a cage match. Whether by the feverish efforts of an underdog clawing their way to glory, a staged fight between bellowing, roaring, outsized 'face' and 'heel' personalities, or an attention-saturating salvo of showy attacks from tag-team trios facing off against each other, the diversity of battles kept spectators on the edge of their seats – and blowing their paychecks on tickets, concessions, and merchandise.

Further fuelling the fervour was a quieter, but no less heart-pounding game, played in whispers, gestures, and the sleight-of-hand passing of notes. Between the vendors of greasy food and soda pop, well-dressed bookies gladly took bets of any amount, on any match. Everyone tried their luck, even if few called it luck – after all, what greater testament to a pokémon's ingenuity could there be than to know the outcome of a fight before the first blow was struck?

The fae-Weezing owner, one Douglas Dunsmuir, had the management of this enterprise down to an exact science. For him, his projections of a prospective audience's excitement were theoretical in the academic sense, based on known constants of attention, loyalty, and marketing. Everything from the reverberating cries from the announcer's table, to the overhead flood lighting – all this was his design. 'Inspired', some called it. Offworlders might recognise it as straight out of modern-day human society. Whatever the truth, the Duel Dome prospered, and Weezing Dunsmuir prospered with it.

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Many thanks to @MintyMimix for assisting with the writeup.
 
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[Ch06] ~ Great Minds
In the foyer of the Dome, through massive sliding doors and practically gleaming with light, a pair of businessmon were talking frankly.

"Well, I could be persuaded," buzzed the smooth, sardonic voice of a Rotom-possessed deskfan. "You know how these things are, my good 'mon."

"Ah, yes – it is you whom I must elect to move," replied a Weezing wearing a pair of stovepipe hats. He chuckled magnanimously. "You may maintain your affect in the press to your heart's content, if indeed you do have one, but don't think you can dazzle me, sir!"

"All the same—"

And so it continued. These were Fae-Weezing Douglas Dunsmuir and Rotom Howard Sparkwright, accompanied by a handful of aides, secretaries and bodyguards, keeping enough of a distance so as not to crowd them. This was midday, after all – not a time for fights and audiences.

One of the aides, a familiar-looking lapine, turned his head and spotted the Wayfarers as they entered. Lopunny Julius smiled thinly and adjusted his tie and glasses, one eyebrow nearly rising off his head. Here comes trouble, his eyes seemed to say. Perhaps he'd vouch for them?
 
Sliding doors were... not something Nova really wasn't used to dealing with. Not by a long shot. Maybe he had a long, long time ago, but all those memories were too fuzzy. So, even vaguely aware of a bunch of people in this place's entrance, he still decided to go back out. And then back in. And back out. In. Out. Something about the noise of the moving door delighted him and made his dusty fish tail wag ever so slightly.

"It's like there's little engines in it or something," he mumbled.
 
One thing was for sure, traveling with Nova was always a delight. Certainly, watching the huge chimera play with the sliding door with all the wonder of a small child brought a smile to Archie’s face. Though, actually, taking the time to focus on it as they were, the Dewott did have to marvel. This thing, a mundane fact of existence back in the Castelia City he’d once called home, was probably the single most technologically advanced thing he’d ever seen since his home world’s destruction. It seemed so innocuous, but…

“Is it clockwork, do you think?” the Dewott asked, giving the doors a quick once over to see if he could spot any gears. “How does it know when to open? Is there a pressure plate?”

Surely it must be that, some kind of optical sensor or motion detector or some other bit of fancy technology had to be decades, if not centuries, away in terms of scientific development. Unless there was some kind of human involvement guiding things along? Which, couldn’t be discounted. Maybe tagging along would prove to be more than just a fun afternoon after all.
 
Oh, he hadn’t even thought of that. Arceus, imagine was a thankless job that would be? Really took ‘doorman’ to a whole other level.

“I am the literal Ghost in the Machine. I have the power to bring to life any electrical device I so desire. No machine too complex. No power requirement too high,” Archie mused, “… My job is to open the fancy door at the local arena.”

The Dewott chuckled to himself. He hoped that wasn’t it, otherwise he’d feel very mean right about now.
 
Even with Novelux's relative tech level, Leaf hadn't expected automatic sliding doors at the Dome. Hadn't expected to see Nova playing with them, either, just like she'd gotten told off for as a little kid. Aww. It was kind of adorable, actually. And awful tempting to jump in and mess with them herself, but alas, she was here for a reason. She settled for playfully snapping her tail at the doors as she moved through, just to give them a little jump back when Nova might've been expecting them to close, then pushed forward into the foyer to see who was around.

...a bunch of folks having some kind of meeting, as it turned out. Not even a meeting that sounded particularly interesting, at the moment. Playing with the door would have, in fact, been more exciting. Still, Leaf paused—for just a bit—to stand mostly-politely to the side, listen in a little. The hat weezing was the guy who owned this place, right? Probably he'd get annoyed if she just interrupted his meeting, but at some point there'd have to be a break in the conversation she could use to ask one of the staffers about the fighters.
 
The doors were not rotom-operated, it seemed – although a doormon was not uncommon at upmarket hotels in the city.

"The doors work by employing a simple mass-detection system," buzzed Sparkwright, turning to face the new arrivals with a detectable measure of interest. "There is a finely-calibrated pressure plate on either side. The mechanism is electric. Motorised. An innovation of my own, with which I am proud to service this modern city."

The Rotom presently inhabited a sort of prototypical desk fan, all bronzed metal and visible gears. He hovered with ease, blending aerokinesis with ghostly levitation. His voice crackled and hissed like a radio set, and his face flickered on the metal surface uncannily.

Beside him, the smaller of Douglas' gasbag heads rolled its eyes, while the primary head maintained a jovial smile.

"Howard Sparkwright," said the Rotom, introducing himself. "I'd like to know whom you all are – though I have my own private bet already."

Julius cleared his throat. "If I may, sirs, perhaps we should conclude this meeting, or else move to a more private venue—"

"Nonsense, lad!" boomed Douglas. "We're open to the public, and we'd be in my damn office if we needed privacy. Come, let these people introduce themselves. Aha – I am Douglas Dunsmuir, owner and manager of the Duel Dome. Welcome, welcome, although I must tell you we don't generally schedule any events for mid-afternoon..."

For whatever reason, the party had the interest of these pokémon. Now was an opportunity to make an impression.
 
"Ah, yes, hi." Nova turned around. He was going to sit, then wondered if the part of the floor he was standing on was, in fact, the magic pressure plate. So he walked a good ways forward. "I'm part of the public-- I mean, Nova." Another beat. "Just Nova."

The weezing's name immediately registered and Nova opened his satchel to pull out the note that Wyatt had written up earlier. "I actually have something for you, sir." Despite the scruffy appearance, Nova had at least managed to keep Wyatt's note neatly folded. He grabbed it in his beak and offered it to Douglas. "Wash told tuh give zish tuh thuh 'mon in chuhge."
 
One of the bodyguards, a Golduck in a pinstripe jacket, made a subtle step forward as Nova reached into his satchel – then, just as quietly, stepped back when mere paper emerged. Julius intercepted the note with a slightly dismayed expression.

"Hmm. I see. It's an affidavit from the Strikebreaker, sir."

"Oh, is that what we're calling him now?" asked Douglas, looking ill. "Didn't I tell you I found it... distasteful?"

"Well, he's undeniably a natural heel, sir. Would you rather he were a union heel, sir?"

Well, that might go somew way towards explaining Wyatt's odd attitude about his side gig as a battler. He was a union 'mon playing a scab character in the arena – albeit as a villain – not a Working Mon's Hero as Nova had guessed at. Clearly Douglas had objected to it.

Douglas sighed. "I'm only concerned that it reflects poorly on his credentials for his day job. Ahem... Anyway—!"

The Weezing glanced at the note, and then descended slightly to meet the shorter Wayfarers closer to eye level.

"Well, if you're friends of Mr. Wyatt, you'll be friends of mine! What brings you to my enterprise, mm?"

Nearby, Sparkwright watched with cool interest, an acerbic look in his eyes. What were the two businessmon meeting about? And why was a Covenant member working for one of them?
 
"Good to meet you both," Dave said, holding a paw forward. "Name's Dave; we came from Frontier Town. Sparkwright of Sparkwright Polytechnic, I take it?"

This place looked downright modern. Had to be offworlders behind that, right? One or both of them?
 
"I'm here to enterprise my strength and stuff." Nova's tail wagged as if that was a very business-y thing to say. "Got some dungeon-related troubles back home and I need to, uh, invest in my own power and fortitude. And I heard there's fighting in this place and some people who compete here are quite wild."

Nova shook himself out. "Not in the, like, wild pokémon sense. In the 'would try to crush me with a meteor' sense."
 
Well, as it turned out, his original guess was correct. It was a pressure plate. And just like that, they had an audience with Sparkwright and Dunsmuir. Leaf and Dave had also arrived, bringing their number up to four. The Mightyena immediately made a beeline for the Rotom, while Nova produced Wyatt’s letter of recommendation for the Weezing. The Dewott moved to stand by the Graydian. They’d spoken to Wyatt together, after all, might as well tag team Dunsmuir the same way.

“I’m Archie,” he said, tilting his hat respectfully. “Nice to meet you.”

Speaking of guessing things correctly, his original impression of the Duel Dome – as a venue for spectacle more than an arena for skill – was seeming more and more certain. That Wyatt played a heel was certainly amusing itself, though if his blustering speech to the crowds outside had been any indication, it certainly seemed the better role for the Pangoro than a more straitlaced face character.

“This one’s a natural battleheart,” the Dewott joked, elbowing Nova in the foreleg, “But I’m here for much the same reason. Seems like a good way to test my skills.”

His natural inclination was still to not draw too much attention to himself, but… A building this modern didn’t just spring up out of nothing. He could’ve walked into this place off the streets of modern day Unova, and in a world of gas lamps and steam engines, it stood out like a sore thumb. There were humans involved in this, no doubt about that. That meant it was a place worth keeping an eye on. And where better to do that from than inside?
 
Leaf snorted when Nova mentioned meteors again. Convenient that he had some kinda note, though. Hopefully that'd make this next part easier.

(It hadn't crossed her mind that maybe they could fight here. That she could. Man, wouldn't that be a ride. And if she and just a few other Wayfarers could take on an actual saint, it had to be worth at least trying to square up against some of the fighters here, right?)

"I'm Leaf," she said, nodding politely, and only partially to shake the urge to think up a really badass ring name out of her head. "And I'm definitely curious about what the battles are like here. Heard some pretty wild stuff about some of the fighters. Like... like that Blue Mesa." She wished she knew more of the other ones. It'd've sounded more casual if she knew more names. (Also: inspiration for later.)
 
"Name's Dave; we came from Frontier Town. Sparkwright of Sparkwright Polytechnic, I take it?"
"I'm here to enterprise my strength and stuff. Got some dungeon-related troubles back home and I need to, uh, invest in my own power and fortitude. And I heard there's fighting in this place and some people who compete here are quite wild. Not in the, like, wild pokémon sense. In the 'would try to crush me with a meteor' sense."
“I’m Archie. Nice to meet you. This one’s a natural battleheart. But I’m here for much the same reason. Seems like a good way to test my skills.”

To one side, Sparkwright dipped a few inches in the air by way of a nod to Dave. "The very same," he replied. Then, as Nova tried bluffing, "I can't say I was expecting an audition by, ah, 'Frontier citizens'... not that you—

"Oh, do be a sport, Howie," boomed Douglas, cutting him off. "This fine-looking lad fancies himself a champion, I'd say! Who are we to deny him the opportunity?"

To the Weezing's side, Julius' paw slowly tightened around the paper note, and a lower eyelid quivered. His expression seemed to say, I don't know what you're playing at, but even if you can bullshit my boss, you can't bullshit me.
"I'm Leaf. And I'm definitely curious about what the battles are like here. Heard some pretty wild stuff about some of the fighters. Like... like that Blue Mesa."

Douglas frowned with concern at the name.

"Oh, that spry wee lass? Well, I'm afraid she... clocked out for the last time... some weeks ago..."

There was a heavy pause, and Sparkwright's fan blades stalled in shock.

Julius cleared his throat. "What Mister Dunsmuir means to say, is that the combatant known as Mesa Blue no longer contracts with us. She's not visited the Dome lately, and we wish her well."

Douglas sighed, vapour spilling from his blowholes. His secondary head screwed up its face into a devastated expression.

"Such a shame...! You know, I used to think she suffered from paranoia, some affliction of the nerves. She always behaved as if she were being hunted, watchful at all times, but now... Well, with all these incidents you'd think she was onto something! I'll wager that young froggy fellow, the one who—"

"Ah-khm." Julius adjusted his tie again. "Dunsmuir Co. makes no allegations as to the perpetrators of recent crimes in Novelux, and leaves the investigation of such matters to the fine detectives of this city's police department."

Douglas yawed left and right, his way of sadly shaking his head. "If only I'd listened, taken it seriously...!"

Sparkwright narrowed his eyes inquisitively. Earlier, he had looked as if he was about to excuse himself and leave, but now his interest had been firmly acquired.
 
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The Duel Dome, as it was called, was even noisier than the campus had been. Prior to arriving, Kimiko thought perhaps it might be a decent place to train - surely even the more prim and proper among them needed to spar once in a while - but it was clear that this was more a... showing-off type of spectacle locale rather than a gym. Even in Forlas, sporting events were popular, it seemed.

Kimiko listened with amusement as Archie and Nova discussed possible workings of the sliding doors. Generally with sensors to tell when somone was there, she figured, but beyond that, she'd never really put much thought into it. Amusing as their fascination was - even moreso when the floating rotom, who'd been introduced as the owner of said campus from earlier, actually paused to fill them in on how it worked - marveling at tech was far from the reason she'd joined the group.

It seemed they'd interrupted some kind of meeting. Kimiko didn't miss how the golduck off to the side stepped forward as though preparing to leap in front of a bullet or grenade or something as Nova produced his note... a silly thought, all things considered, but clearly this Weezing Dunsmuir was someone important, to have his own bodyguards. Or, someone in the room was, anyway. Made most sense to be the weezing though, she figured, given half the 'mon he employed could probably kick his ass backwards ten different ways.

She shook her head to stop her thoughts from wandering further. When the time for introductions came, the servine bowed her head. "Kimiko. It's a pleasure to meet you." She offered a vine, only to pause awkwardly halfway, wondering how exactly a weezing would shake hands. Regardless, she cleared her throat and stepped back again to let her teammates take the floor. She nodded along with Nova's and Archie's and Leaf's claims as if to agree.

But as the conversation continued, a few key phrases caught her attention and prompted her to speak up again, for better or for worse. The mention of 'that young froggy fellow' was of particular interest (was the greninja they'd heard about young? She couldn't recall...) , but Kimiko wasn't quite sure how to broach that topic.

"Oh, I was very much hoping to test myself against her..." Kimiko said with a frown, her tail leaves drooping sligtly. "Do you perhaps have any idea where she's gone? Fighting for someone else now, maybe?" Not likely, if she'd been pursued and finally discovered here; she'd probably fled to escape capture, in that case. Still, couldn't hurt to ask.

Douglas yawed left and right, his way of sadly shaking his head. "If only I'd listened, taken it seriously...!"

Whatever the case, it sounded to her like Douglas Dunsmuir was possibly feeling guilty about connecting some dots and realizing something he'd overlooked... Casting a shifty glance over at the lopunny, she decided she'd press further if none of her teammates came up with a more subtle approach.
 
"No, no, I'd like to hear Mr. Dunsmuir' finish his thought," Nova said with a tilt of his head. He didn't even look at Julius. "I came here to try and learn stuff that'd help me out in dungeons. If there's a lot of suspicious things happening, I want to know what to avoid. It's... easy to get overwhelmed in such a bit city."
 
"Kimiko. It's a pleasure to meet you." She offered a vine, only to pause awkwardly halfway, wondering how exactly a weezing would shake hands.

Apparently by extending a prehensile plume of vapour to touch the proffered vine.

"The pleasure is mine, young lady!" said Douglas, instantly jovial. He seemed... genuinely just that earnest a 'mon.

"Oh, I was very much hoping to test myself against her..." Kimiko said with a frown, her tail leaves drooping sligtly. "Do you perhaps have any idea where she's gone? Fighting for someone else now, maybe?"
"No, no, I'd like to hear Mr. Dunsmuir' finish his thought," Nova said with a tilt of his head. He didn't even look at Julius. "I came here to try and learn stuff that'd help me out in dungeons. If there's a lot of suspicious things happening, I want to know what to avoid. It's... easy to get overwhelmed in such a bit city."

Julius glowered through his office spectacles at Nova, not buying a word of his obfuscation. Sparkwright's plasmic face drew into a thin smile – he, too, saw through it but was content to let it play out.

Douglas 'nodded' with a full-body dip in the air, and cleared his throat.

"Yes, well, I fear I could get carried away with my rambling, mmyes, but the short of it is that the blue lass had been waylaid and pursued by sinister, anonymous malfeasants! And naturally, I thought not to pry too closely, as she was well and safe here, but then... a strange character came to snoop around the facility! I believe he gave his name as..."

Julius looked like he was about to interrupt. Sparkwright laid a tendril of ectoplasm on the Lopunny's shoulder, meaning, keep your mouth shut, man.

"...Matthew, Mateo, Matheus... ah, Matthias, I think it was! Some batrachian species or other, bright young lad for sure. And it was after that, mmyes, that Mesa Blue made her exit for the foreseeable. Such a pity, she could certainly have been champion after making her way up the brackets, of that I have no doubt!"

"Ah, but to where did she go?" mused Sparkwright, smoothly. Prompting.

Douglas' secondary face became a mask of terror, while the larger face put on an expression of sober concern.

"Well, it's only conjecture, and I would hate for her pursuers to learn of this, but I would speculate that she may have taken shelter in a particularly hazardous mystery dungeon in or around Novelux. That's the natural course of action for a bold, reckless young battleheart such as herself, I should imagine."

Julius sniffed. "Searching all the relevant dungeons would be prohibitively difficult, not to mention dangerous."

Douglas hummed dejectedly. "I know, I know. Still, I do wonder if I should go look for her myself. I feel I bear some responsibility, mmmno?"

The fae-Weezing didn't seem to think the idea was especially outlandish. Could it be that he was especially strong himself...?
 
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Leaf didn't know what bats or rakes had to do with anything, but he'd said "froggy" before, too, right? "Was he a greninja, maybe? Thin and blue, super-long tongue?" She glanced at Dave; back when Buck had mentioned the "inspector" they'd seen, it'd seemed kinda like he'd recognized something.

"Thing is, it would be awesome to really see what the Dome's like, but we're also kinda looking for someone. There's a luxio who's gone missing, Brisa—her friends and her family are real worried they haven't heard from her, or that she might've run into trouble." Froggy trouble, apparently. "She likes battles, so we were wondering if maybe 'Blue Mesa' might be who we're trying to find." Then she remembered how stubborn the railworkers had been—Mr. Dunsmuir seemed a lot more willing to chat, at least—and levitated her Ranger badge out of her bag so the weezing could see it. "I'm with the Sojaveña Rangers—got asked to help bring her home safe as a favor." Close enough, right.

(It only occurred to Leaf after she said it that Brisa might not've told even this guy her identity. That'd be one bonus of having a ring name to hide behind, right? But it was worth a shot, just in case.)
 
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Nova only smiled sweetly at the two apparent smartypants, as if they'd slapped him and he was turning the other cheek bolt. After all, he wasn't really lying. The past few weeks had been dedicated to dealing with problematic dungeons.

... Well, one problematic dungeon. That had become a hellscape full of literal void creatures. Maybe some of the dungeons around the city had problems, but he doubted they could hold a candle to Twilight Quarry. Where he was going to have to go back to eventually. Where an even angrier dungeon master would await.

He glanced at Douglas. "If you're looking to dungeon dive, sir, I'm sure some of us would be happy to join in." Nova looked at the others. "Maybe it could double as an off-the-cuff audition of sorts for anyone interested? It'd, ah, have a certain authentic flair to it." He let his crest fan out and sparkle with a bit of salmon-colored fairy dust.
 
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