Just in case

Viggo had always hidden his fusion. From day one he was sure he could just reverse it, despite Leilani’s words and all the notes that followed, and Micah’s reassurance. After all, who wanted to be blue forever? Nobody… Probably. At least no sane person. Viggo had set off the smoke alarms in his apartment several times, learning the limits of his rage, maybe even his sorrow. He’d tried to disable the sprinklers installed to no avail, and Siren had needed to clean up the mess of water most if not all the time. Viggo had already had to change the couch cushions several times too, but at least the curtains he could dry out in the heat of the room.

   Lately though it was becoming… More. The heat from his flames was becoming too much. When he was getting angry enough it was burning through his gloves, his sleeves, and even damaging his core and his breathing aid. He’d never been a man who was particularly talented at keeping his anger in check. He’d grown up with two younger sisters who were out to get him - and they could still get him with ease.
   Somehow, he’d been convinced to check out the issues plaguing him lately, just to see if anything was going wrong with the fusion. The last thing the people around him wanted was for Viggo to suddenly up and kick the bucket, just because his core melted through or something like that. The passing through walls was something Viggo had picked up fairly quickly, but he hadn’t really pressed too many limits with it for fear of being exhausted halfway through a phase. Naturally, Viggo didn’t want to show anyone his fusion, let alone Professor Blackthorn. Someone poking around, asking him a bunch of crap he already knew? It was barely tolerable, even if it was supposedly for the best. Micah already did all of that for him.

   When Viggo arrived at the facility he unwrapped his scarf from his neck and let it drape around his collar instead. He was, as always, accompanied by Watt, and the quiet Yamask that clung to his shoulder. Watt zipped out of the device in Viggo’s pocket the moment they were inside, floating around and looking at all of the screens and equipment in the lobby alone.
   “I wouldn’t if I were you.” Viggo scolded the Rotom with little effort, reaching and patting a hand on the head of the shy Yamask as it seemed to hide away even more. He was accompanied by another Pokemon this time - a partner he’d only recently picked up. The Nickit fusion had been picking fights on the outskirts of town and seemed a bit snotty. It had taken a liking to how strong Viggo’s Pokemon had become and had decided that maybe a partnership would help it grow stronger as well. Vizier was certainly a snob, waltzing in like he already owned the place, as little as he was. He made himself comfortable on one of the armchairs like a little prince.
   “ Where now!?” Watt was excited, spinning around Viggo until the man grabbed onto him like a stress ball.
   “ You won’t get to play with any of this. I don’t want to be here long.” He sneered back at the Pokemon, squishing him a little as he walked up to the welcome kiosk. Viggo signed himself in - ID, name, address, prints, the lot. It seemed like a lot, but it was a research facility. Yamask peered over like it was watching what Viggo was doing.
   “ I just need to make sure I’m not going to combust and turn to ash any time soon.”
  “ Like when you were–”
   “Shush.” Viggo pressed his thumb on Watt's little face to get him to be quiet, subtly observing the lobby camera. The last thing he needed was Watt giving away his little underground activities, and then getting arrested because of it. Vizier yawned like he was bored, and Viggo took note with a raised brow. The man let go of Watt, adjusting his suppressor momentarily as he walked to sit in the waiting area alongside the little blue fox. He stroked a hand over the Pokemon lightly.
   “Not enough for you, little man?” Viggo mumbled, sitting back and taking out his phone to idle on instead.
   He really didn’t want to be around long, and he wasn’t sure if he’d be needing to come back or what. He hoped not. A printed essay of notes would suffice to keep everyone happy, whether they were good notes or bad, that didn’t seem to matter. Viggo just didn’t want the nagging voices of everyone ringing through his head again.

[Word Count: 788]