Chapter 6 - Part Six

Dull. 


That was the best way Lyra could describe her week. 


The life of a Pokemon trainer, she recalled, was one of unbridled freedom and adventure. A new discovery around every corner. They lived life on the open road, free and easy, with nobody to tell them what to do or how to do it. It was exciting. It was free…


As much as it hurt for her to accept it; it wasn’t her life anymore. She’d done several jobs over the week - sorting the warehouse and guarding the elevator was just the start. She acted as a lab assistant, where she was ostracized by the scientist whose glasses Ariana… Repurposed as her own. She sorted Ariana’s files - during which she had some time to study them. Experiments, plans in progress… All of which she resolved were useless to try and sabotage. Not because they wouldn’t stop a crime in progress, or a major discovery - in fact, she had the power, even in her meager position, to throw a major wrench in Rocket’s plans - but because none of it would help her out of her position. 


Eventually she was trusted enough to access the upper floors. She guarded the generator one day; during which she was paired with the grunt that tried to steal her Voltorb. Her Voltorb - she’d kept an eye on it possessively during her shift. She didn’t care how she got it; she wasn’t going to let it go. The next day, she spent hours on her knees resetting the trapped floor of the hideout - that didn’t do her sore joints any favors. The day after wasn’t much better - she had to work on the security statues instead; which involved considerably more up-and-down.


Even if each day had its own… Trials, it all seemed to fade into the same routine. Her alarm would wake her up; and she’d wake up sore and tired - even if she was getting used to the other grunts’... Nocturnal activities, they still bothered her. Moreover - she felt she shouldn’t have to get used to them. Following that, she’d shower; trying to work off the pain and fatigue of the past day, to varying degrees of success - depending largely on if anyone was sharing a stall nearby. 
After that, she’d meet with another grunt that would explain her duties for the day, and she’d report to her workplace. She’d spend the first hour figuring out the unspoken demands that were a part of her job, and she’d spend the next three working - and at the same time, suffering some means of indignity. It stoked her simmering temper, but she’d been spared another outburst… Though she could swear she’d begun to notice more errant, faded hair every time she looked in the mirror.


Her breaks were a dissatisfying reprieve; seldom offering her enough time to truly rest - rather, enough time for her body to get used to being idle, and appropriately feel even more sore; even cramping when she rose to get back to work. Mercifully, the latter half of her duties had never been as bad as her day in the warehouse. She wasn’t utterly exhausted at the end of her workday - rather, she was hungry, sore, and listless. The foremost was easily resolved. Her soreness; made manageable with a shower. The latter, however, was a frustrating constant. 


Her only… Working acquaintance, the pink-haired grunt, was often working when Lyra had free time. There was a part of her that hoped the other grunts might want to get along with her, but… Each had their reasons not to. Some disdain her purely based on her appearance… On her weight, or age. Others recognized her from getting pushed around in the dorms. Others shied away because of Ariana - because of a presumed relation, or because of the admin kept an eye on her. She learned quickly that Ariana wasn’t exactly… Personable, among the lower ranks of the team… But they respected her authority. 


Even if Lyra knew few of the grunts liked her… None of them said so. Not anymore. 


Another grunt had been trying to shove her around at the end of the week; at the end of a long day guarding the generator; and being the butt of every cruel joke among the grunts. She’d been on her way to get cleaned up - and the belligerent grunt had a few comments about her age. It wasn’t much of a sore subject anymore - but it was something she’d wished to turn into a degree of authority. She challenged him to a battle. The poor bastard only had a Rattata. Lyra had a Voltorb; and her Voltorb knew Self Destruct.


Perhaps her little display worked a little… Too well. In the process of avoiding a tackle, her Voltorb had rolled closer to the grunt - and after it detonated, it sent the ash-covered grunt to the medbay. Since then, she hadn’t heard any crude comments; though she knew plenty swirled about her, albeit unspoken. 


Today, as she changed into her uniform, she felt disdainful gazes burning against her back. Those of disgust, resentment, fear… At least one of those was mutual. Yet - she didn’t feel anything else odd as she slid on the tight, plus-sized garments. Spending a week in… Well, her own body had acclimated her to it - to its shape, its texture, its new center of gravity. Were it not for the omnipresent soreness, she’d nearly be unaware of even the most glaring of differences. 


She adjusts her glasses as she looks into the mirror, looking up to her hair with a sour look on her face. Her hair wasn’t as vibrant as it’d been originally - or… She purses her lips. How it’d been when she’d first changed. It wasn’t just that the mental image of the bright-eyed trainer she’d once been had faded into a nebulous memory; but these further changes had begun to cement her body as of a week ago as her reflexive reference for the proverbial ‘before’ to her current ‘after’.


More than one streak of desaturated; paling red was present upon her head. Running a hand over her  soft stomach, she knew that it, too, was getting slightly lighter beneath her clothes, even if it was still just as dense as she’d grown accustomed. The thought of grooming herself came to mind - quite often, in fact - but every time she mulled it over, she came to the same realizations. She was usually too tired to find the supplies, wherever they were, not to mention to do the work in the first place. Furthermore - any effort she put into styling her hair would be undone by her work for the day - but the last straw was a simple question of: why bother? 


Dolling herself up would be a chore for her - so she’d just be doing it for others; but who did she have around that she needed to look nicer for? She’d given up trying to appeal to the grunts; and it wasn’t like she could leave. It was all too much hassle for no reward. 


Lyra reaches for her hat - the last piece of her ensemble - when she hears a sound; a distant one, piercing through the din of conversation filling the barracks. It’s a soft clicking - one that draws her gaze to the entrance. All around her, she can hear the grunts either go silent or hiss at each-other to do so. The eyes once staring disdainfully at her finally break off - staring at the doorway…


Through which steps Ariana. Uncharacteristically - and to most of the grunts, concerningly - she’s smiling. Lyra recognizes it; it’s the same confident grin she gives when things are going according to plan. That seldom meant good things for her. She looks down, biting her lower lip. She couldn’t remember the last time she had a reason to smile like that. Ariana stepped inward; heels going silent as they cross the carpeted floor. Though it’s clear by her haste that she’s here for Lyra - that doesn’t stop her from leaving cutting comments for the grunts she passes; wasting no time to linger.


“You were supposed to report for guard duty ten minutes ago. Further tardiness won’t be tolerated.” 


“We received your complaint about the scientists cheating when they play cards. If you won’t do what it takes to win, you shouldn’t play.”


“If you ‘lose’ one more box of supplies, I’m transferring you to the Lake of Rage. Permanently.”


Though with varying degrees of fear and resentment, the grunts she passes leap into motion - off their bunks and away from walls they’d been leaning against - making a break for the door. Even those she didn’t charge with any offenses seem… Inspired by their companions, and either leave or attempt to seem busier before the admin reaches them. 


The sight makes Lyra snicker. Maybe it was a little sadistic - but seeing them so intimidated was a treat she wished she got to see more often. The admins seemed to do that to them; but they all seemed… Much too consumed by their work in the past week to crack down on grunts. While it was a little conflicting to Lyra, she almost… Missed Ariana. She was tempted to respond in kind when the admin offered an elated greeting.


“How lovely to see you again.” For as excited as she seemed - Lyra could tell there was something sinister lurking in her words. “I almost didn’t recognize you - I’m just lucky you stand out so much in such a...” She looks over her shoulder, causing a grunt in her field of vision to jump. “Lesser crowd.”


Lyra didn’t know if that was supposed to be a compliment for her - but she knew full well that it was a jab at the others; and that was enough to make her happy. She looks down at her PokeGear - and that happiness shifts violently to surprise. She knew she’d slept a little late; but she was hoping she’d have more time to get ready. Her shift began in five minutes.


Ariana seems to register the surprise on her face, and reaches for the PokeGear, taking a hold of it. “My my - running late?” she muses - with considerably less venom than she spat at the other late grunt. The admin snickers. “Never you worry. You weren’t assigned today.” Lyra’s brow quirks. Even if she’d only been here a week - a day off seemed… Strange. “With as long as you’ve been serving us - I felt that today would be an excellent opportunity to have a… Performance summary.” 


Ah, Lyra thinks. That had to be why. While the thought of being judged for her performance made her heartbeat hasten, the thought of spending time with Ariana was… Mildly more preferable than spending another day surrounded by people that hated her. Maybe it was going to be a day off, after all? She nods affirmingly, taking the PokeGear back.


Ariana turns, waving her along. Lyra lingers by her locker, reaching in for her hat-


“Leave it. You won’t be needing it much longer.”


Her fingers curl and drop away from the cap, making her furrow her brow. What was that supposed to mean…? Looking back to the admin; she’s already making her way out - wasting no time in waiting for Lyra to follow. She slams her locker and sprints to close the distance between them, following eagerly in her stead.


As they make it out into the hallway, Ariana leads the way back toward her office - by now, Lyra could remember the path. Whereas the facility once seemed impossibly labyrinthine, she knew it like she knew the back of her hand. Given how much her body has changed - it wouldn’t be a stretch to say she knew the facility even better than that. 


“It’s been a long week.” the admin begins, looking over her shoulder. “Our plans are progressing... “She clicks her tongue. “Hastily, so that has encompassed my time. From what I saw of your schedule, I’m sure you were kept rather busy.” Lyra nods in affirmation. “With as much as we’ve been up to… It feels like ages ago that we weren’t working together.”


Lyra scratches the back of her head. ‘Together’ was a strong word. She vividly recalled Ariana’s words, the last time they met - she spoke a big game about how they were both involved in the experiment that made her; but even when she was working as a lab assistant, she didn’t feel involved at all. Factoring in how distant she’d been; Lyra felt like she was working for Ariana more than with her. It was hard for her to tell whether or not that was deliberate.


Ariana turns her attention back to the hall before her, letting her words linger. Finally, they arrive at her office. She opens the door and motions for Lyra to enter first. “I’d say ‘age before beauty’, but… We have both on our side, don’t we?” Lyra enters meekly.


The office wasn’t as Lyra had left it when she’d been charged with organizing the admin’s files. Whatever work she’d done had promptly been undone - as folders now littered Ariana’s desk. A printer sat on a shelf along the wall; a dense stack of printouts sitting in its tray. One of the two chairs on Lyra’s side of the desk was occupied by one of the boxes from the warehouse. Opposite the unoccupied chair, sitting on the desk, was an ashtray that has clearly seen plenty of use. 


Ariana offers a curt “Sit.” as she moves over to the printer, flipping through the papers beneath it. Lyra does so promptly - inching her chair away from the desk a little; and the ashtray upon it. “Well - let’s not waste any time.” She moves over to her own seat, wearing a grin oversaturated with self-satisfaction. 


Again - Lyra can’t help but feel envious. Nothing she’d done here was worth any semblance of satisfaction; even the feeling of ending a shift was nothing short of hollow. Her only reward was rest - rest and solitude. It was hard not to want more; if not just for the work, then for the pain it brought her. Yet, for as much as she wanted something more - she knew she didn’t deserve it. The work itself was as simple as simple got; jobs that they could charge anyone with - anyone from thuggish brats to women like her.


She’d already begun to sulk by the time Ariana began to speak. “Truthfully,” she begins. “I had little hope for the girl we captured, so long ago. As idealistic as she was pathetic. What I’d prepared for her was… An experiment - so it did innately have a chance to fail - but the quality of the… Material was questionable at best.” She chuckles. “Of course, she didn’t survive the experiment. You did.”


Lyra cocks her brow.


“As soon as the experiment was over; you weren’t some brat anymore. The thought that you were - an illusion; and even if you were initially deceived, I knew you were smart enough to see past it. You did so even quicker than I’d anticipated.” She pulls a piece of paper from the stack and slides it over to Lyra - over a few other miscellaneous papers. It shows a camera feed of her in the warehouse - organizing boxes. “You were told to work - and so you did. You never questioned the purpose, or rebelled against your duties. You performed them to the best of your abilities; lacking all but the most simple instructions. Before, you’d never really worked a day in your life.” Ariana looks forward. “But doesn’t it feel like you’ve worked a lifetime?”


Lyra’s eyes linger on the picture before placing it back on the table. She… Really hadn’t questioned anything, had she? Sure, she told herself that it was only an act at first, but… 


“It was all… Preparatory. You were never destined for grunt work - I’d never let you go down that path.” she explains. “But you needed the lessons. And I needed data.” She plucks another sheet of paper - this one bearing a number of graphs; some rising, some falling. “Sensors in your belt have been monitoring your condition - and there’s little environment more ideal to study a subject such as yourself than in the wild. Has it been for the better…?” Ariana shrugs. “No. But for the sake of the experiment, the data you’ve provided has been invaluable. On the job - the experience you’ve accrued has been instrumental,” She drops the stack of paper to her desk with a soft clap. “because it’s time to move to our next phase.”


Lyra couldn’t tell if Ariana’s words were making her anxious - or if the admin’s apparent excitement was infectious. Her heart was pounding in her chest; even intimidated as she was, Lyra was on the edge of her seat. 


Ariana leans on her desk, steepling her hands. “I think you’re qualified for a promotion.” 


Promotion. Promotion to what? As far as she’d gathered, the grunts didn’t have any internal hierarchy - at least, not a formal one. They simply pushed each-other around; and the strongest one called the shots. Maybe to a scientist? No - she knew full well she wasn’t qualified for that sort of work. She didn’t even feel qualified to have a promotion in the first place, but… But…


Lyra couldn’t lie - the idea of getting it was exciting. She’d been forced into this line of work, given utter drudgery to slave through, and given no respect from anyone, and no reward for service - until now. Her mind raced - getting a promotion would get her respect. Ariana got plenty, at least. More respect meant less jeers from the other grunts - maybe she’d even get away from them? No more moans in the middle of the night, no more up-and-down with boxes or tools.


Lyra’s eyes were on the desk before her - she jerks up as she realized that she’d zoned out, mulling over the possibilities. 


“The way you look - you seem excited.” Lyra nods - a faint smile curling across her lips. “I really hoped you would be. Now, ” She thumbs through the papers again one Lyra’s way. “I want this just as much as you do… But I’d be doing myself, and Team Rocket, a disservice if you weren’t truly ready. I have numbers, and I have enough information to have a hypothesis… But I need you to give me something solid.”


Lyra’s heart sank. What did the admin need? The possibilities a promotion could bring were swirling in her head; rising higher and growing grander with every moment that passed. She clutches the paper with one hand, adjusting her glasses with the other. 


“You’ve spent the past week doing grunt work. Now - truthfully, it doesn’t matter what we have the rank-and-file take care of; but there’s a difference between necessary drudgery and inefficiency. Given your… State, I’m sure it would have been necessary to… Optimize your tasks to offer as little strain as possible - failing that, I’m sure you would have wanted for something to streamline the task. All I need from you is… A plan.” 


Lyra tilted her head. The paper before her was some… Operational form. It had sections for her to describe a task at hand, resources necessary, a timeframe - it was rather comprehensive. She recognized it from sorting Ariana’s files - the admin herself used them to devise major operations and experiments. Lyra looked up, and Ariana looked down to her clinically. 


“Describe what you want done, and how to get it. It’s the simplest task of an administrator - and something you’ll have to do quite often.”


Administrator. She was going to be in charge on that level; Ariana’s level. She wouldn’t be working for her - she really would be working with her. Lyra upturned a few sheets of paper on the desk to grab at a pen, beginning to write. Her handwriting was chicken scratch - out of haste, and frankly out of practice. She didn’t feel like she was committing thoughts to paper - rather, raw emotion. Her pen was a catalyst to coalesce a week of frustration and bitterness - scrawled out in ink. When she was through, she shoved it over to Ariana - the feverish writing left her wheezing in her seat.


Even the admin seemed impressed as she took a hold of the sheet. “Let’s see… Dormitory surveillance… Enforced disciplinary action… Discouragement of fraternization? How very… Authoritarian.” She chuckles - even a little nervously. “Ah - efficient use of warehouse space.” She pauses, making her way through what Lyra knew to be a densely-packed paragraph outlining organizational techniques - as Ariana said, streamlining. Eventually, Ariana passed it back to her. “Mmh. While I do agree that we can utilize the higher shelves for storage… I’m sure you’re well aware, we lack the proper equipment.” She smirks as she explains. “Suggestions are a start, but without a way to put them into action...” Lyra uses the pen to tap at the paper, drawing Ariana’s eyes lower. The administrator perks up. “Acquire equipment… Goldenrod Department store?” 
Her smile widens as she reads - a mall like that had to have some proper equipment, and it had easy access from the Underground. If that’s what they needed, Lyra thought - that’s how they could get it. Ariana pulls the paper back, chuckling darkly. 


“My my - how diabolical.” 


Somehow, Lyra took that as a compliment. However Ariana meant it - it sounded like she had her promotion in hand - and to her, that’s all that mattered.


Ariana stands and drops Lyra’s plan in a wire basket, beckoning to her. “I was always hoping for this outcome - but given what you’ve provided, I have everything I need to convince my peers,” She looks down to Lyra. “the other administrators, of course. We don’t need to convince the grunts of anything - to them, you are what we say you are.”


Lyra stands up, following Ariana to the door. 


“So - until I have an opportunity to address the matter with them… It would be prudent to undergo something of an… Orientation.” Ariana leads her back out into the hall - down another winding path. While Lyra had been this way before - it was only ever in transit. She’d never had any duties within any of the rooms she passed - so as Ariana reached for the handle of one of the doors, Lyra couldn’t help but peer over her shoulder to see what was inside. 


The first thing she noticed was a carpet - soft and black, extending through the room. Ariana moved inward, and Lyra followed. Directly opposite the doorway was a simple bed, next to which was a metal table. Along one wall was a waist-high bookshelf; largely packed with books and binders… But the top of it seemed to act as a makeshift liquor cabinet. Bottles of all shapes and sizes sat on it; next to several upturned glasses. The opposite wall held two doors; one ajar - giving off a sliver of light - and the other closed. Lyra looked back to the admin - well… She supposed she was her fellow admin, now. 


“What’s with that look?” she muses, crossing her arms. “Did you think we slept with the grunts? With each-other?” she asks; unable to hide a hint of revilement. “These are my quarters. You’ll soon have one of your own - but it will be some time before it has all of the necessary… Amenities.” She gestures to the open door. “Specifically, for your uniform. The last thing I’d want is for a woman of power to be galavanting around looking like the rank-and-file.”


Taking her cue, Lyra tentatively moves over to the door - pushing it open. She’s greeted by a subtle; musty scent as she steps in, finding herself in a closet. It’s surprisingly spacious and deep - along the walls hang a number of outfits; most were copies of Ariana’s outfit, but as she thumbed through them, Lyra could see a Much… Slimmer grunt outfit, and even a reddish suit. On the far end of the closet was a drawer - pulling one open tentatively, she found herself looking through the admin’s unmentionables. 


When Lyra hears the door click shut behind her, she shoves the drawer closed and whips around. 


Ariana stands with her arms folded, and a snide smile on her lips. “You know,” she begins. “you can’t very well get dressed without getting undressed.”


Lyra looked down. With the promise of having her own room - she had hoped for some degree of privacy. Slowly, she turns around, leaning down - with a reflexive grunt - to remove her boots, gloves, and belt. Just as when she’d been getting dressed this morning, she felt eyes burning on her back - but this time, she could tell she wasn’t earning a look of disdain. This time - she couldn’t tell what kind of look Ariana was giving her. Appraisal? Calculation? Interest…? A weak sigh escaped her lips as she stands up again, reaching up to remove her top-


Only to find hands on her shoulders, pulling her top up for her. “Allow me.” Ariana speaks so closely that Lyra could feel her breath tickling across the back of her neck. Once it’s off, Ariana discards the top without a second thought.


Before Lyra has a chance to start working on her skirt, Ariana’s hands move downward. The sensation of them running across her shoulders and down the flabby folds of her sides is enough to paralyze her - and to feel the admin’s fingers run through the thicket of hair on her stomach; working their way around its curvature to unclasp the skirt… It was enough to evoke a dull groan from her.


“The data I received was fascinating.” she begins, tittering. “But to see it first-hand is an experience in and of itself.” Lyra’s skirt drops to the ground, and Ariana’s hands clasp together and come to rest over Lyra’s navel. She can feel the other woman’s body pressing against her back; feeling Ariana begin to breathe deeper and heavier, as she began to do the same. “You’ll be making a lot of plans like the one you made today. If seeing the fruits of your efforts are even half as rewarding for you as they are for me… I’m sure you’ll love your new job.”


Lyra is prepared to respond - but she feels Ariana’s hands release her, and the admin steps away. The red-haired woman runs a hand across several hanging skirts; slowly coming to a stop. She pulls it off the hanger and offers it to Lyra. Looking it over, she can tell that it’s the same style as Ariana’s - given that it was the admin’s first choice, she could already tell what to expect from the rest of the selection. 


Ariana continued to search through the closet as Lyra put on the skirt - once it was on, she donned her belt again. It was surprising that it fit so well - unless the admin had the foresight to have one tailored to her size. Or… Had one tailored in case she got a little heavier? Lyra looked away, snickering at the thought.


“Hey,” Ariana chides. “dressing professionally is no laughing matter.” She brings over a pair of boots - again, just like hers. Truthfully, Lyra was hoping for something different here - first because the skirt and boots left a… Sizable portion of her legs uncovered, but because they had heels. She didn’t want to have to bother shaving or learning how to walk in heeled boots. 


She bit her lip as she slid her foot into one of them - trying to find a positive. She recalled the reaction of the grunts this morning when they heard Ariana coming. Engendering that kind of respect… No - that kind of fear was oddly tantalizing. If they were Ariana’s boots, too - maybe people would mistake her for the admin they already knew to fear? That alone was enough to inspire her to put the other boot on; teetering a little before steadying herself.


Ariana approaches her with two garments in hand - the first, a jacket like hers. The other - a sweater. Lyra took the sweater first; running a hand over the long neck. If nothing else; she figured this was supposed to go under the jacket. Lyra removed her glasses for just a moment as she donned the sweater - as soon as her head exited the turtleneck, she found the world around her to be an indistinct blur, rectified when she finally puts her glasses back on. Reaching down, she smooths out the fabric of the sweater; dense, warm, and…


Highlighting her protruding stomach. The thickness of it seemed only to make her look heavier. Even then, it seemed to be a poorer fit than the skirt had been. She tucks it beneath her belt; not wanting her… Excess to force it off of her. It was a hollow realization that she no longer felt resentful of her weight - accepting it in the most passive of terms. She looked down at herself - and even if the ensemble was strange, she felt… Good wearing it. 


“One last piece.” Ariana chimed. Lyra took the jacket from her, sliding her arms in first - and it was then that she began to have doubts about it. It clung tightly to her arms; and as she began to pull it closed, it began to strain against her stomach. Even trying to suck her gut in left a solid inch between either side of the jacket - and evoked dangerous groans from the garment; the likes of which she hadn’t heard since she was bursting out of her disguise. The memory was anything but nostalgic.


Releasing the jacket, Lyra huffed, wiping some sweat from her brow - the meager exertion having brought her to such a point. Ariana clicks her tongue, pulling it off and sticking it back on the hanger. 


“Well... Frankly, I think you look better without it.” The weary look on Lyra’s face fades quickly; replaced by a smile. Ariana turns her attention to the door - and upon it, a mirror. 


With Ariana positioned behind her; hands on her shoulders, Lyra could see herself clearly. Even for her inexperience, she stood firmly and proudly in the heeled boots; the cut of her skirt displaying a hint of her legs; the skin pale and dusted with red hair. Her belt was once more eclipsed by the rotundity of her stomach; now covered by a thick, black sweater. Upon the breast was a white patch, proudly bearing a vibrant red R - a shade now more akin to Ariana’s hair than her own. Though the style remained familiar - streaks of grey had grown prevalent upon Lyra’s locks. The glare of the closet’s light glinted off her glasses; rendering the lenses white and her tired eyes hidden behind them. Though she wore a smile; and though she felt jubilation and pride in equal amounts as she admired herself, the smile her reflection wore offered her only a chill. 


“Look at yourself. I think we both know how the grunts react to me… So how do you envision them treating my older sister?” Ariana teases; chuckling - and despite herself, Lyra finds herself joining in. “Ah - and that reminds me… We’ll need to do something for your… Formal introduction.” By her tone, Ariana already seemed to have something in mind, but Lyra raised a hand to cut her off. 


She had a plan.