He loathed Mark, the stinky little bastard who thought of himself as the greatest human being to ever walk the earth.
Charlus had spent many sleepless nights trying to outdo the son of a bitch, the sweaty days in the Silver Room, the blisters, the blood... it was all coming back to him. But no matter how hard he seemed to try, the blond garbage had always managed to dive right in to snatch away his hard-earned prize. First was Grace and then the position of being the second one in charge, thank god for the later didn't remain in the act, James, the team leader, had quickly vetoed the abrasious decision.
After Ailsa, his dear mother had declared him dead, Charlus was finally at peace... it was shameful to a foreign eye, but how could those simpletons ever understand how much Charlus had suffered under the Yolk of the mighty Mark Jorum.
But fate was too cruel... Mark had left behind a progeny.
As the cold winds of Joliet County brushed against his cheeks, all those thoughts started to come back to him. The fights with Mark, the flirting with Joanne and the days with James... he missed him the most.
His mind slipped back to the last conversation he had in the Raider Manor before the Academy had opened again and everyone had left.
It was an hour past twilight and for the first time in twenty years, bulbs of lighting lit across the yellow pavement. Rooms no longer smelled of watered-down planks, particles of dust remain suspended in the air undiscovered, the lights in the room illuminated everything within a ten-mile radius.
The Manor was alive after two decades... the halls were no longer filled with the silence of their dead ancestors, it was shining, but that's not how Charlus saw it.
Even though the hall was illuminated and filled with voices coming from every corner, it was still dead to him. He could not see the blinding lights or hear the chatter of conspiracies that was going on, the Raider Manor had died along with James, it was nothing more than a mere vessel held hostage by foreign forces.
As he walked in its halls, he could still remember the olden days before the war, how they used to marauder the halls breaking vases, destroying hundreds of Mrs. Raider's precious artwork with permanent markers. He could still remember his toothy smile and throaty version of whatever song he was newly released.
"Oh I believe in yesterday...!"' James would break into one of the verses as if he was suffering from a fit.
"Blimey!" Charlus would say, "Why do you break into a song now and then? Your life isn't a musical!"
"Oh... how I wish it could be," He would reply while wrapping his arm around Charlus's shoulder, "let's shoot a musical!"
As he walked along the miserable hallway, a grim smile broke on his face as he remembered James's famous words, 'Let's shoot a musical!'.
"We never got to shoot a musical," He wondered.
Before he knew, his walk around the Manor like an old sea widow's ghost had ended with him facing the rolling balcony. For a moment, his brain was clouded with self-doubt because he was sure of the fact that when he had started his walk, his intention wasn't to reach the Rolling Balcony.
Rolling balcony... the name echoed in his mind, Why are you torturing me, James?
The Rolling balcony was the name given to the balcony on the west side by James, it was one of the most Plationicaly beautiful things to ever exist. The whole Balcony was suspended over nothing but an old cliff. Staring at the roaring hill usually gave the person a gigantic headache, but something about it was enchanting, it could bend a person's will compelling them to stay, the place was magical in its chaotic way.
Charlus and James usually came to the Rolling balcony after midnight away from the watchful eye of Mrs. Raider and her pokemon to smoke their troubles away. No one came over to the Rolling balcony because of the inordinate amount of danger it carried, thus it became their secret getaway.
As Charlus walked towards the Balcony, he noticed an unusual figure glomming over the rail. His first thought after seeing the short hair was Grace... but she didn't have blonde hair.
"Hello," he nervously said as he stood next to Serena, "I-I don't mean to impose, this place is usually empty."
A warm smile spread on her face, "You're not imposing, I was about to leave but..." she took a deep sigh as her eyes darted towards the hill.
"It's compelling you to stay," Charlus completed, "the hill... it feels as if it's calling you, doesn't it?"
"Exactly," She answered, "this place... it's a plethora of enigma."
A soft chuckle escaped his lips, "Nicely put, we usually say magical."
"Well, I'm a songwriter," she said, "it's kind of my job."
Her statement was followed by a moment of silence. There wasn't a pint of the doubt when Charlus said that he despised Mark Jorum with every fiber of being... his being. The rule should've applied for his progeny... but the tale was different.
Serena wasn't anything like Mark, Charlus felt a strong repugnance whenever Mark was around but she was different... she felt different. There was a strange aura that surrounded her, it was wonderful but mysterious in its way.
Charlus felt drawn to the blonde whose face shone under the moonlight, sparks flew around her, dancing in little notes as if they came from Artemis's crossbow.
For the first time, it wasn't the roaring ocean or the cheerful nostalgia that compelled him to stay, it was the magic of the blonde, who stood at peace, unaware of the magic that arose from her.
It was that moment when he realized he was enchanted by the blonde, not because of her beauty, beauty was just an abstract concept, but because of herself, the aura that encircled her.
"I—I'm sorry about your father," Charlus said after a long drawn silence, "the news must've been unsettling."
Serena's face expressed no emotion, she continued to stare at the roaring waves. "So am I," She answered bluntly, "but it won't bring him back."
He nodded in understatement, "He-He was a fine man, a great fighter and intelligent human."
A small chuckle escaped her lips, "Well, you said earlier didn't you, you weren't fond of him."
"I liked him." He clung on to the railing, "in away."
Serena kept staring at him.
"Alright I hated that son of a—" he compelled himself from finishing the sentence, "He still didn't deserve to die."
Time flew by as they began to converse, during that time Charlus had realized that Serena wasn't like Mark at all, she wasn't a narcissistic little shit who yearned for victory above anything else, she was a sweet naive girl with a great sense of humor and knowledge.
"So let me get this straight," she asked in between her laughs, "your father is a world-renowned scientist and you didn't even finish high school?"
"I did not!" He answered, "I won Johto league at ten, before that he expected me to complete my education but I did not!"
Serena giggled like a child as she struggled to contain her laughter.
"What about you?" He asked, "did you go to school?"
"I did not," she answered, "mom homeschooled me, she's a damn good teacher."
He agreed with her.
"I must say," she said, a smile spread across her face. "I was having a bad time but talking with you... it made me feel good."
Charlus smiled. "Because of Mark?"
She shook her head, "Boy troubles."
"Boy troubles?" He laughed, "you're the Kalos Queen, you're having boy troubles?"
"I was the Kalos Queen," she said, "now I—"
Before she could've finished, the pager on her waist started beeping. A grim expression stuck on her face as she bit her lip.
"Time for the assignment?" He asked in a soothing voice.
She nodded, "It was nice getting to know you..."
"Charlus," he quickly said, "Gary's father."
She smiled with contempt, "I know, you fetched me back when I ran away hysterically."
Charlus looked down at his feet, "No problem," he said, "your mother would've done the same."
Serena smiled at him but it wasn't like the one he'd seen before, it was sorrowful and full of remorse. "Well," She said as she turned to leave, "I better go."
Charlus didn't watch the girl go because it wasn't how he wanted to remember her, not just as Mark's daughter who he watched leave but as an enigma full of amazement. He turned back to face the roaring waves which seemed to have lost its charm, the Rolling balcony no longer felt enchanted.
Even after a day, he could not get her image out of his mind. It felt as if they were stuck in an infinite loop as if his mind was forbidding him from forgetting.
"It's so fucking cold!" Charlus screeched, "God I hate snow!"
"It's Orre's Frozen Tundra," Grace answered as she took off her scarf, "What did you expect? Hot springs?" She warped the woolen scarf on his neck.
As the jeep drove past the snow-covered mountains of Joliet County, the intensity of Charlus's chattering teeth increased, he eyed Grace woefully as she was sitting right in front of the radiator.
"Is it cold in the back?" The driver, Apollo, asked as he glanced at them through the rearview mirror.
"No," Charlus happily answered while his teeth clattered, "I'm not used to the cold," he glanced at her with contempt, "we're from Canto."
"Ah!" Apollo said, "you're from Canto, it's... quaint, corner of Orre. Why are you here?"
"Honeymoon!" Charlus said as Grace gagged, "we got married three days ago, she wanted to go to Kalos but as it turned out, I had bought the ticket before she could propose, isn't it right, honey? And the visa application is such tiresome!"
She flashed a fake smile as she skidded close to him, "You sure did—" she stopped in mid-air as if she was having trouble pronouncing the next word, "–sweetie."
The driver laughed, "You are not the only person on their honeymoon," he said in broken English, "we drive another before you, they too from Canto."
"Ah!" Charlus exclaimed as he wrapped his arms around his 'wife', "Look, Beth, we won't be alone."
"We sure won't–" she replied, "–sweetie."
The news had slapped them on their face when Ailsa had given them their assignments. What troubled Grace was the weather, coldness wasn't exactly her forte, Charlus, on the other hand, was troubled because of their cover as a married spouse from Canto on their honeymoon.
This assignment was pretty tricky from their previous one, it had been months since they met together at the Raider Manor. They'd gone their separate ways to hunt unknowns all over the continent.
The UER the Chamber had discovered in the northernmost region of Orre was meak but the spikes in the receiver were peculiar. This was a particularly strong one, people from both sides were going to go after this one.
Ailsa decided to send two of her most powerful people to draw it out. They were posing as a couple.
It was another one of his mother's twisted plays, teasing him about something that he could never have.
"Are you worried about your son?" Grace asked in a hushed voice, "you've been quiet."
He scoffed under his breath, "A little," he answered, "but he's with Ash and well, my mother may be a bitch, she may be a bitch but family's... family."
She nodded in understatement, "That's true... but... doesn't it bother you a little?"
"What does?"
"That he's with your ex-girlfriend daughter,"
Charlus glared at the brunette, it was true, he had dated Joanne, but 'dated' wasn't the preferred term but what he wanted to use probably would've earned him a few kicks and punches from the girl next to him.
"It doesn't," he said, "it ended years ago, doesn't mean anything to me."
Grace nodded in agreement, "I'm worried about mine."
"Serena?" Charlus said with surprise, "why would you worry about her? I believe she can survive anything."
"I know..." she sighed, "but she's with that whiny little bastard."
Charlus giggled in a surge of amusement, "Ash? Is that what you were telling him before we left?"
"No, I was asking him if he still screamed bloody murder whenever he was left alone in a room."
"What? He's not a baby anymore, he's a grown man now, besides if he's even a pint of what his father was like—"
"That's what troubles me!" She replied anxiously, "do you honestly think I would let my daughter be with a twenty-three-year-old version of James? The James? God, do you remember Kanto, Hoenn, or Kalos? Every mission we had together!"
"Calm down Gr— Annabeth," He said in a hushed voice, "I'm sure they'll be fine, besides..." he looked out of the window, amidst the snow-capped mountains lay a magnificent piece of architecture overlooking the entire valley, "we have our own thing to worry about."