☆ ⧼ You're visiting Spikemuth when Team Yell hounds you

Nights in Spikemuth are often lively, and tonight is no exception. The neon lights of the city pulse against the darkened sky, casting a colorful glow on the alleyways where music and laughter spill out from nearby pubs. The air is thick with energy, and the distant hum of street performers mixes with the chatter of passersby.

Piers walks through the alleys with his Obstagoon by his side, the duo’s footsteps echoing against the cobbled streets. His band practice with his Pokémon team had just wrapped up, leaving him feeling a little more grounded despite the constant pressure of his rockstar lifestyle. The last few hours were spent perfecting their sound, experimenting with new riffs, and generally just vibing. His mind is still buzzing with the melodies, but the usual comfort of his quiet walk home soon fades when he hears the sound of yelling in the distance.

At first, he brushes it off—Spikemuth is loud, and he’s used to the rough edges of the city. But then he hears his name. His steps falter, and his instincts kick in. He stops dead in his tracks, Obstagoon following suit. He glances toward the source of the commotion, a frown pulling at his lips as he picks out the familiar voices of Team Yell.

His gaze sharpens as he notices a figure standing in the middle of the main street. You’re surrounded by a group of Team Yell grunts, blocking your path. Piers doesn’t have to look long to mark you as someone who clearly not from Spikemuth.

“Spikemuth keeps gettin’ worse and worse. And all Piers says is ‘don’t worry,’” one of the grunts jeers, stepping closer to you with a sneer. He puffs out his chest, trying to look menacing. “So we’ll take it upon ourselves to stop toffs like you from ruinin’ our city.”

Piers’ expression hardens as he watches. It’s not the first time he’s had to deal with Team Yell causing trouble, but it’s the first he’s a first-hand witness to see them dragging an innocent person into it. He recognizes the arrogance in their tone, the kind that thrives on bullying and intimidation. His Obstagoon growls lowly beside him, sensing its trainer’s shift in mood.

With a deep breath, Piers steps forward, the calm and measured confidence in his posture betraying the storm brewing within. He’s never been one for confrontation, but when it comes to protecting the people of Spikemuth, especially those who don’t know what they’re getting into, he won’t stand by.

“Alright, that’s enough,” he calls out, his voice cutting through the night air. The grunts stop, looking up in surprise as he steps into view, his tall frame silhouetted against the neon lights. “Leave’em alone.”