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The relationship between Victoria and her party of Pokemon was a complicated one. From an outside perspective, she likely looked the part of a negligent trainer, shuffling her beloved partners onto whoever was brave enough to handle their rowdy nature for long periods of time as she indulged in stage play and the vices of alcoholism in the afterglow of a well-played set. Musicians didn't tend to keep many more than a partner or two for this reason, particularly those who knew their work would take them far and wide across the land, and not in the constant pursuit of a “good challenge”; it was easier to give full attention to the few they had in the breaks in between, to give them the loving and cherishing they deserved. Her own party was not full, of course, but four Pokemon could be quite a bit to handle in the reprieves she left herself between work and personal vices, and if anyone made her to choose between music and the Pokemon she had in her arsenal, the horror of many, her answer would always be the former. But people tended to look at another human in the context of what they understood to be basic human behavior. To claim a Pokemon of your own was to take responsibility for it. You take it out of the wild you, so you promise to help it lead a better life for it. The fact that so many people would look at their relationship, then, and think wrong only in the scape of what a human trainer should be doing was ideal; that party wasn't around to trainor to groom or to breed, but to keep up just such a ruse in the first place. Pokemon can't really train other Pokemon. Victoria held affection for those who had agreed to help her maintain the ruse of a Pokemon-bearing human, as most humans were, but no more than she did the rest of the Pokemon of the world, and like the rest of the Pokemon of the world, she allowed them free reign in all situations, perhaps only dropping by to ensure that their homes had not been burnt to the ground (and even then, likely getting a little too jelous solely on the basis of missing a good blaze). Abhorrent behavior expected from a trainer – but what else was there to expect from a legendary who had no interest in “owning” one of her kind?[break][break]

The only real issue she or the four of her 'work buddies' had was finding some place to put the latter group while the former wallowed in her stardom. Fortunately, she knew a guy who was all too willing to aid in that little quest. Nepotism, maybe. Realistically, it was that few could refuse a good bit of drunken begging, if only to get the drunk in question out of their field of vision long enough to cure the headache she'd caused them.[break][break]

“Honey, I'm home!” Reshiram shouted as she threw Jae's front door open wide, the second bottle of day clutched in her free hand and the reek of booze spilling past her lips. No different from any other day, really. The greeting was in jest, as it always was. While their relationship had certainly improved from their centuries long feud over morality – fights to the death and what have you – they still didn't quite fit together as friends or “siblings” should have, and they most certainly did not live together in the same home. (Given the fact that her party of Pokemon spent more time here than with their official trainer, however, you couldn't blame those aforementioned onlookers from having their doubts.) Not being an official resident didn't stop the boundary-lacking woman from treating the abode as her own humble one, kicking off her shoes in the entry haphazardly and slumping down in the first chair she found without so much as an invitation to enter. He should have counted himself lucky this time that she'd at least gone to the effort of warning him via message of her arrival... even if she hadn't allotted him much time to prepare in advance. “I'm starvin'. You got anythin' the eat in 'ere?”

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