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Bella leaves in due time. She calls Sherlock a week later with one of her father's Pokémon on the other end of the line; it is learned that being boxed is sort of like having almost fallen asleep or woken up but not quite, a drowsy half-conscious state with little attention to the passage of time. It is not unpleasant, at least in this 'mon's opinion.

Three weeks later, Bella flies to Lake Acuity again.
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Tony is eating lunch with Candle out front of the tower.

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Bella lands. "Hi, Tony! Renée lost interest after four sweaters," she says. "Well, three and three quarters, I finished the last one for her because it seemed a waste, so it has one sock in a tasteful color but badly knitted."

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"Oh man," laughs Tony. "Go on in and show 'em the goods if you want, I'll be there in a minute. Or you can hang out with us first."

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Bella opts to go inside and fit Porygon to sweaters. "Hey Porygon!" she calls. "I have four sweaters for four lucky 'mon!" And she starts unpacking the sweaters. One of them is burnt orange and white, with the adorable little hood finished in green because Renée ran out of white yarn. One is in three shades of teal, with puffballs in variegated pastel yarn. One is black and yellow and appears to have been designed as a sort of Umbreon costume for a Porygon, complete with ear attachments. And the last is red, pink, and purple, with one badly-knitted sock-part.

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The Porygon converge from all directions to bump gently against her shins in their excitement.

"Pory! Pory! Pory!"
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"Hey guys! Who wants to dress up like an Umbreon?" she asks, brandishing that sweater.

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"Porygon! Porygon!" says one at the rear of the pack, hopping up and down. The others make way for it and it scoots up to her.

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Bella helps it into its new sweater. "Who wants this one?" she inquires, holding up the one with the inferior sock.

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"Pory," says one Porygon, and "Pory! Pory!" says another. The two argue back and forth like this, gently headbutting each other; then one scoots back and lets its friend have the first turn.

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Bella sweaters the winning Porygon and offers up the orange-and-white sweater with the green... accent.

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This one is universally despised, apparently.

Then one small Porygon from somewhere in the middle of the pack says, "Gon?" and trundles forward.
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Bella puts that Porygon in that sweater.

"And this is the last one," she says, holding up teals-and-puffballs enticingly.
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About half the remaining Porygon become very excited about the puffballs.

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Bella laughs and waits for them to sort it out amongst themselves.

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Eventually they seem to come to an agreement, and one Porygon zooms forward and stops right in front of her, looking up, while the rest back off.

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Bella puts it in the fourth and final sweater.

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It bumps affectionately, and now puffily, against her shins.

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She scoops it up and pets it. "There," she says. "That should alleviate the pointiness problem."

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"Pory pory," says the Porygon blissfully.

"That is the cutest thing I have ever seen," says Tony from the door.
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"Porygon in terrible sweaters getting cuddled?" laughs Bella. "It's pretty cute, but I dunno, you saw Dusk's baby pictures."

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"Yes I did," says Tony. "This is cuter."

He comes in the rest of the way and scoops up the one with the funny sock.
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Bella laughs. "Where's Sherlock?"

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"Sleeping!"

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"Well, I guess the sweaters aren't going anywhere. Who are the lucky four?"

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"Orange, white, and green is Flob," says Tony. "I'm holding Butterfingers," he gives the Porygon a pat, "you're holding one of the -obs but I'm not sure which one, some of them don't answer to their names anyway."

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