Name: Corvin
Origin: Hisui
Affiliations: Galaxy Expedition, Security Corps
Pokemon:
Kishin - Hisuian Aegislash (M)
Shiba - Hisuian Growlithe (F) [Guild Asset]
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
The heavy wooden door of the Medical Corps infirmary clicked shut, and Corvin let out a long, pathetic groan that seemed to rattle his very tired bones.
He held up his hands in front of his face, staring down at his fingers. They were stiff, trembling, and deeply stained with the distinct green residue of crushed medicinal herbs.
"My hands are completely numb," Corvin muttered, leaning his back against the hallway wall. "I didn't think it was possible to hold a needle in so many awkward angles. Aunt Pesselle is a demon in a nurse's apron when she's angry, Kishin."
At his hip, the obsidian scabbard gave a faint, exhausted sigh. Kishin didn't even bother opening his eye. The katana simply released a low, dragging groan, a sigh of absolute, weary agreement.
Having spent the last three hours hovering in the corner of the room, listening to an extremely wordy lecture on basic medical prep and first aid procedures, the blade was just as mentally drained as its wielder.
Before Corvin could even contemplate his long walk home into his bed, a loud, cavernous roar erupted from his midsection. His stomach rumbled so violently that the sound practically bounced off the floorboards.
Corvin groaned wearily, dropping his chin to his chest. "Great. Just great."
Suddenly, a long purple tassel attached to Kishin's hilt whipped upward, wrapping around Corvin's shoulder and gave it a frantic, desperate shake. A soft, high-pitched whimper of spectral energy vibrated through the edge of the sword.
Corvin blinked, looking down at his waist. "What? Are you hungry too?"
The katana rattled instantly, its metallic tone sharp and frantic. The cloth squeezed his shoulders again in urgent demand.
"Alright, alright, I get it," Corvin said, a small smile breaking through his exhaustion. "Let's head over to the Wallflower. I'm ordering a double portion of roasted Piloswine skewers and honey-glazed potato mochi, again."
Hearing this, Kishin suddenly let go of his shoulders. The purple fabric straightened out, pointing directly back at the sword itself.
The spectral purple eye on the crossguard wide open, staring up at him with an expectant, deeply demanding gaze that clearly asked: 'What about me?'
"You?" Corvin pressed a finger to his chin, appearing to be frozen in thought.
He stared at the sword Pokémon for a long moment before offering a completely flat, deadpan declaration. "You can just soak up whatever spiritual heat is coming off the stove while you wait for me to finish."
"Slash!"
The violent shaking resumed instantly, ten times harder than before. The scabbard rattled so furiously against his hip it threatened to tear his uniform belt right off.
"Hey, stop that! Calm down!" Corvin hissed, slapping both hands over the hilt to suppress the temper tantrum. "I'll feed you some life force later, I promise!"
He casually glanced out the nearby hallway window, his eyes locking onto the horizon. His heart instantly skipped a beat. The afternoon sun was already dipping precariously low, bleeding a heavy, dusky red and gold across the Hisuian sky.
A sudden surge of pure panic set in.
"Shit!" Corvin gasped, his eyes widening. "Hey, come on! Gramps closes his shop right around dusk! Let's go before he locks up the kitchens and we're both left starving out here."
But just as he lowered his center of gravity and nearly broke into a full, desperate sprint—
"Corvin! Wait up!"
A sharp voice shattered the quiet of the hallway.
The sudden shout caught him mid-stride. His foot caught the edge of a raised floorboard and he stumbled forward, sandals scuffing hard against the wood as he caught himself against the wall with one hand.
Once he finally stabilized himself, he pushed off the wood, his shoulders visibly slumped into utter defeat, and a low, irritated grumble escaped his throat.
"Aegis…" Kishin groaned at his hip, the sword vibrating in identical frustration. It was a universal rule in the Galaxy Guild at this point: the exact moment they planned to eat something, someone was legally required to interrupt them.
With a soft, metallic shriek, Kishin slid entirely out of his obsidian scabbard. The katana hovered weightlessly in the air beside Corvin, its floating pauldrons drifting lazily into position on each side of the blade.
The sword's purple eye cracked halfway open, giving his partner a highly skeptical, half-lidded look that basically asked if Corvin honestly thought this constant, terrible timing was a coincidence.
"Coincidence?" Corvin snorted in pure disbelief, crossing his arms as he stared bitterly down the empty corridor. "I think not."
"Ah crap! Corvin! I'm so sorry. I didn't startle you, did I?"
Running down the corridor was Rei, slightly out of breath.
A thick, chaotic research notebook was clamped under his arm, colorful tags sticking out from pages of scribbled notes while loose papers spilled from the cover. He slid to a halt in front of them, sheepishly checking to make sure Corvin hadn't actually fallen over.
"Thank goodness I actually caught you this time, though." Rei panted, sighing in relief and wiping a bead of sweat from his brow.
He leaned against his knees for a second, letting out a weak, reminiscent chuckle. "Seriously, it beats last Tuesday," Rei laughed, shaking his head.
"I spent like two hours turning all of Jubilife Village completely upside down looking for you, checking every single ditch and alley, even the entirety of the Fieldlands training grounds!"
"I did all that! Only to finally track you down snoring peacefully, dead to the world, right on an open cot inside the Medical Corps infirmary."
"Captain Pesselle was using you as a training prop to teach some junior medics how to properly tuck patients in!"
Corvin's face twitched slightly, a brief flash of amusement crossing his features before the hollow hunger in his stomach promptly crushed it.
"Just get to the point, Rei," he muttered flatly, crossing his arms tighter to cut off the assistant's trip down memory lane.
"Right!" Rei snapped back to reality, pointing a thumb over his shoulder down the long corridor. "The Professor needs you in his laboratory right away. He said it's urgent. Something about a new project?"
Corvin exhaled a long, heavy breath through his nose. "Hey. My stomach is currently trying to digest itself. Whatever it is, can't it wait for, like, twenty-five minutes?"
"Nah. He's been pacing the floorboards for a solid hour. If I don't bring you back, he's probably going to dent the wood permanently and accidentally knock over a specimen jar," Rei said with a grin. "Come on, please? I'll walk you there."
Sighing in resignation, Corvin signaled Kishin to come down. The floating katana glided seamlessly back into the obsidian scabbard, the long purple tassels unwrapping from Corvin's left shoulder before slumping into their usual resting place at his waist. "Fine. Lead the way. But if the Wallflower closes, I'm raiding ever scrap of food out of your kitchen."
"Yeah, good luck with that," Rei snickered, pivoting on his heel to turn the corner. "I haven't been home in weeks. At most, you'll find a block of moldy bread and some petrified meat strips."
"Damn."
As they trudged down the main hallway toward the headquarters' research wing, Corvin adjusted the stiff collar of his uniform, trying to shake off the lingering fatigue of Pesselle's medical training.
He glanced over at his friend, breaking the silence. "Anyways, how have you been holding up, Rei? How's that grand dream of becoming a full-fledged Pokémon professor coming along?"
Rei's eyes brightened instantly, any trace of exhaustion vanishing as he proudly patted the thick notebook clamped under his arm. "It's incredible, honestly! Brutal and exhausting, but incredible."
He gestured vaguely in the air, his fingers mimicking a scratching quill. "Lately, the Professor has had me doing a mountain of fieldwork. You know—gathering specific samples of wild Pokémon fur from bushes, measuring discarded feathers, tracking down migration paths, the usual stuff. It's dangerous, for sure, but it's all for the sake of the First Partner Program!"
"The big Pokémon initiative?" Corvin asked, his interest piqued despite the constant voracious growling of his stomach.
"Exactly! That one!" Rei nodded rapidly, his voice dropping into an excited whisper as they navigated the wooden turns of the building.
"Professor Laventon told me that because of all my hard work, once the program officially launches, he's going to let me choose one of the three rare specimens to be an official partner Pokémon species! But man... I'm having a seriously hard time deciding on the final slot."
"Between what?"
"The Water-type slot," Rei explained, gesturing widely with his hands. "The Professor has basically finalized the Fire and Grass options, namely Chimchar and Turtwig, so I don't want to interfere with his decisions."
"But he's still debating the third species choice."
"Personally, I'm heavily pushing for the Piplup line. Think about it, Corvin—an Empoleon? A massive, golden-steel, regal penguin with razor-sharp wings? It's like the king of the seas, the absolute definition of cool."
Corvin let out a short, dismissive scoff, shaking his head. "You're so wrong. If he wants a real Water-type partner, he needs to secure Shogun's line. Oh that's little blue guy in the lab, by the way—the Oshawatt. He's a little natural-born swordsman."
Corvin's tone grew uncharacteristically passionate. "And the sleek Samurott is ten times cooler than a giant penguin. The way they handle those seamitar swords is pure style."
"What? Samurott is just a Walrein in shell armor!" Rei fired back, his voice rising in open, laughing defiance as they finally reached the heavy double doors of Professor Laventon's laboratory. "You've never even seen a Samurott! Besides, you only like the Oshawott line because you have this ridiculous, lifelong obsession with swords!"
"I have seen one! I've seen their research pictures when the Professor showed me photos of his trip to Unova," Corvin denied flatly, his face locking back into a perfectly expressionless mask. "And I don't have an obsession with swords."
Rei stopped dead in his tracks right outside the lab door. He slowly raised his arm, pointing a blunt finger straight down at Corvin's left hip.
"Corvin. Your first Pokémon partner is a literal sword."
Corvin didn't even blink. He rested his right hand casually on Kishin's obsidian hilt. "That proves absolutely nothing."
Before Rei could argue the point, the heavy laboratory door swung open with a sudden, dramatic BANG.
"Ah! Corvin! My boy! You're finally here!"
Professor Laventon's booming, cheerful voice echoed from the doorway. The eccentric scientist practically lunged forward, his signature purple beanie sitting slightly askew as his eyes brightened with manic energy.
Without letting the elite officer speak a single word of greeting, Laventon grabbed Corvin firmly by the sleeve of his uniform and forcefully dragged him into the chaotic room.
Twisting his neck, Corvin looked back over his shoulder at the stranded assistant left out in the hallway. "Agree to disagree!" he called out.
"Fuck no! Not a chance!" Rei laughed, waving off the dismissal as he turned down the adjacent hallway to return to his duties. "Enjoy the lecture!"
But just as the heavy door began to slam shut, a muffled shout cut through the remaining gap: "Samurott's trash!"
Corvin spun around to glare at Rei, but seeing only the closed wood, he let out a low grumble. A small, reluctant smile tugged at the corner of his lips before he turned his gaze forward, taking in the cluttered expanse of the laboratory in front of him.
The laboratory was its usual chaotic display of science. Shelves were crammed with glass vials, dried apricorn shells, and stacks of sprawling parchment maps.
By the door, in the far left corner of the room, stood a massive, glass-fronted water tank. Inside it, Shogun the Oshawott was lazily swimming in tight circles, blowing tiny silver bubbles into the water.
In the opposite corner, a large, square wooden pot held a stunted, twisting ironwood tree. Tucked deep inside a hollow near the lower branches, was Ronin. The Rowlet was fast asleep, his perfectly round body blending seamlessly into the shadow of the wood.
The moment Corvin stepped inside, the quiet room vanished.
In the tank, Shogun froze mid-paddle, immediately surfacing, his small black nose twitched.
Recognizing the scent and the heavy, rhythmic step of the 4-Star Officer, the little sea otter propelled himself forward, pressing his face flat against the glass with wide, joyful eyes.
Without waiting a second longer, he scrambled up the built-in wooden ramp, hauled his soaked body over the rim of the tank, and dropped heavily onto the floorboards below with a loud splat.
He gave himself one rapid, violent shake, spraying fine droplets of salt water across the nearby shelves, before his webbed limbs became a frantic blur.
From the hollow of the ironwood tree, two massive, dark eyes snapped wide open. Ronin let out a soft, silent yawn, stepping out of his wooden nest and spreading his wings.
The owl didn't make a sound as he launched himself upward, gliding effortlessly into the branches overhead to stalk his target from above.
"Osha! Osha!" Shogun waddled forward across the open floor with urgency, his wet paws slapping loudly against the wood. He slid to a halt right in front of Corvin's boots, puffed out his round chest, and immediately pulled a small, damp polishing cloth from the thick fold of fur beneath his arm.
With fierce determination, he began aggressively rubbing the fabric against the pale scalchop shell attached to his stomach, polishing the white surface until it practically gleamed in the flickering lantern light.
Finished with his demonstration, he looked up and showed Corvin the shining shell in its paw, his wide eyes practically begging for validation.
Corvin couldn't help but chuckle. The lingering fatigue from the medical bay seemed to ease just a bit. He knelt down, lightly tapping the freshly polished shell with his fingertip. "Looking sharp, Shogun. Very professional."
The sea otter puffed up so proudly he looked ready to burst, stowing his cloth away with a smug, self-satisfied nod.
Suddenly, a soft, silent blur dropped straight out of the rafters.
"Roww!"
Ronin landed flawlessly dead-center on top of Corvin's head. The small grass-bird ruffled his feathers contentedly, waddled around in a tight, heavy circle to adjust his position, and tucked his head deeply into his body. Within seconds, the owl Pokémon had completely turned Corvin's dark, messy hair into a cozy, makeshift nest.
"I see you've chosen your spot for the day," Corvin muttered, keeping his neck perfectly still so he wouldn't disturb the sleeping bird.
From behind the professor's cluttered desk, a small, timid shadow hesitated before stepping slowly into the light.
The little Cyndaquil darted backward at the slightest creak of the floorboards, her slender paws shifting nervously against the grain of the wood. Knowing her species suffered from notoriously poor eyesight, Corvin lowered his center of gravity further, dropping to one knee and extending a bare hand flat over the floor.
"Here, Onibi. C'mere girl."
Onibi sniffed his fingers cautiously. Her nose twitched as she caught the lingering scent of old field medicine and wild grass, before she let out a tiny, incredibly happy squeak. The defensive sparks flickering along her back instantly sputtered out, leaving her skin perfectly cool as she scrambled forward, climbing straight up his uniform into his lap. She curled into a tight, warm ball, purring softly like a stilled engine.
"Well, they've certainly have taken a liking to you, my boy!" Laventon beamed, clapping his hands together before rushing over to his main blackboard. "Now, please, sit! I brought you here because I am in desperate need of a sharp, critical second opinion on a project that will fundamentally reshape the future of the Galaxy Expedition Team or even the entire world!" he said, flaring his arms dramatically.
Corvin carefully sat down on a low wooden stool, balancing Onibi in his lap while Ronin remained perched on his head. He looked at the massive stacks of empty parchment binders on the desk. "If you needed a second opinion on a major research project, Professor, why not ask Captain Cyllene? Or even Rei?"
"Especially Cyllene—if this involves the guild, you're going to need the Survey Corps to actually gather the data."
Laventon clutched his chest, a look of sheer terror flashing across his face. "Captain Cyllene?! Goodness gracious, no! Have you seen the way she stares through a man's soul? I ask her for additional research budgets and I feel like I'm being tried for high treason!"
"And dear young Rei... bless his heart, but he is far too inexperienced with the raw, volatile nature of the Hisuian wilds to understand the scope of what I'm trying to build here."
The professor stepped closer, his expression softening into a genuine smile. "Besides, Corvin... you are one of the few elite officers who actually steps into this lab and talks to me freely, without treating me like a nuisance. I value your mind."
Corvin offered a dry, flat stare from beneath the Rowlet sitting on his head. "Professor, you are a grown man. You really need to go out of this lab and socialize more."
Laventon froze. He clutched his chest, a look of exaggerated injury flashing across his face. He staggered back a step, nearly bumping into a stack of parchment.
"Ouch! An arrow right to my dignity! You Security Corps youths are utterly ruthless!"
While the professor dramatically groaned on the floor, Corvin lightly scratched Onibi right behind her ears. The little Cyndaquil let out a deep, rumbling purr of pure bliss. The happiness was so intense that a sudden, brief burst of bright orange flames erupted from the vents on her back.
The sudden wave of heat singed the air, making Corvin flinch slightly, but he didn't pull his hand away, letting her settle back down into his lap. "Alright, alright, get up, Professor," Corvin sighed, watching the display.
Laventon instantly popped back onto his feet, dusting off his coat as if nothing had happened. He grabbed a massive, leather-bound book with completely blank pages. "Right! Behold! My grand vision! I am creating the very first structural, paperbound Pokémon index! A definitive compilation of every single creature residing in Hisui—their attributes, their behaviors, their preferred foods, and even their combat styles!"
Corvin stared at the empty index, flipping the pages with his finger. The scope of the project was indeed staggering.
"An index for every Pokémon in the region of Hisui... it's a brilliant idea, Professor. Truly."
"But..." Corvin paused, his eyes narrowing as he calculated the sheer logistics. "You have a massive problem. To actually fill these pages with authentic data, you're actually going to need a higher-level Surveyor."
"Someone with enough survival experience who can handle the dangers of the various wild zones without getting killed."
Laventon sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping as he set the book down. "Precisely right, my boy. You hit the nail right on the head. It's a crying shame that you belong to the Security Corps. A Surveyor with your combat metrics and field awareness would make this index a reality in a matter of months!"
"No way," Corvin said instantly, shaking his head at the Professor's implication. At his hip, Kishin hummed in firm agreement. "The Security Corps is nothing but non-stop busywork right now."
"Between the border patrols, suppressing Alphas, and dragging clumsy 1-Stars out of the mud, I barely have time to sleep and eat. I can't help you build an encyclopedia."
"Yes, I know, I know," Laventon chuckled weakly, waving a hand. "But a scientist can dream, can't he?"
"Sorry, Professor."
Corvin carefully scooped Onibi up from his lap, placing the sleepy Cyndaquil gently back onto the soft fur rug on the floor. He reached up, lightly lifting Ronin off his head and setting the bird down next to Shogun, who was still proudly inspecting his polished scalchop.
"But I have to get going," Corvin said, standing up to his full height and stretching his aching back with a heavy groan. "I promised Kishin we'd hit the Wallflower before the kitchens close. And I still have training waiting for me later."
The three small Pokémon instantly let out a synchronized, mournful cry, two pairs of ears and a pair of wings drooped as they watched him walk toward the door.
Corvin paused on the door handle, looking back at the sad trio. "Hey. Don't look at me like that. I'll come back and check on you guys later, alright?"
Hearing this, Shogun gave a brief, hopeful chirp, adjusting the polished shell on his chest with a little nod, while Onibi curled back up into a tight, sleepy ball, satisfied with the promise.
Ronin let out a soft, low hoot of farewell, spread his wings, and glided effortlessly across the room to settle back into his cozy tree hollow.
"Goodbye, Corvin! Enjoy your food!" Laventon called out, turning back to his blackboard. The moment the door began to swing shut, the professor began muttering loudly to himself, completely consumed by his thoughts.
"Now... who on earth can I ask in the Survey Corps... someone with high potential, someone completely unbothered by the terrifying depths of the wilds... ugh, there's simply no one available right now..."
Corvin stepped out into the crisp evening air of Jubilife Village. The sky had turned a deep twilight purple, and the warm smell of cooking fires drifted through the streets.
He looked down at Kishin. "The Wallflower. Then training afterwards."
The katana rattled once, questioning.
"You heard Aunt Cyllene," Corvin said quietly, a stubborn edge appearing in his voice. "If we're not strong enough, we'll fix that. No more easy nights."
Kishin's purple eye opened fully. The blade gave a low, eager hum of agreement as the two of them headed toward the village center, the promise of food only the first stop of the night.
The katana shook within its scabbard, the long purple tassels dancing in the wind.