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Old 03-28-2016, 09:24 AM   #34
Ex-Admiral Insane
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The trainer in cowboy hat pointed into the distance, “Right there!”, he shouted through the storm. In the distance the group could make out the small shape of a boat rocking on the shore water, manned by what appeared to be a yellow face painted onto a large grey pot.
The young cowboy master led the rest of the group across the shore, each holding their hands out to cover their eyes. At the back of the line, the other trainer remained in a discussion with his Garchomp who was refusing to abandon his master in this storm.
They called out to a Dusknoir on deck to haul a plank, their voices nearly drowned by the thunder. By the light of the storm Lucas could see the boat in its full glory; the carving, the paint that read ‘Banette’s Revenge’ and the steel engine that would get them out of here.
The grey pot on board the ship obeyed his trainer’s command with an English ’Aye aye!’ and brought out the wooden plank. Lucas didn’t bother to question the idea of a talking ghost - not after seeing the talking Meowth, and not in this storm of all times. One by one they balanced their way across the piece of wood. Lucas slipped and landed on his stomach but got back up to throw himself on board. The last member of their group called back his Garchomp before crossing. “Where to captain?” he asked.
“Just go,” Lucas shouted annoyed, “anywhere but here.” The preparations were quickly made by the trainer and his Pokémon [I’m assuming] and the engine swiftly kicked into gear, tripping Lucas on his back as they sped across the waves. He got back up, ignoring his companions and their judgements, and moved to the very front of the ship.
“Mal!” the trainer called out in the storm. “Mal!” he shouted with a high-toned screech. “MAL!” He kept shouting the same word over and over, calling for his Zubat with different pitches.
After a few tries he walks back up to the others, hoping for some comfort or shelter. “Anything new here?” He wasn’t sure what to expect from them after everything that had happened…

“Any idea what those are?” Lucas said after a while, pointing into the distance where a swarm of fish was chasing them, teeth bared in preparation to tear them apart.
“I don’t think they’re friendly.” Lucas instinctively reached for his belt but realised he had kept nearly all of his Pokémon safe in his backpack. That aside, he realised that he didn’t have a clue which one to bring out, almost none of them could fight in a storm. ’Almost’, Lucas reminded himself, digging into his backpack to call out his Quiet-natured Faust.
“Shadow Punch,” he ordered his Dusclops. The Ghost Pokémon didn’t stir or question the command and simply raised his hand and sent a blur of a fist through the air. By this time the others might have done the same to prepare for the Sharpedo, sending the occasional attack to throw their pursuers off.
A small figure flapped its way hurriedly to the boat, screeching every few feet it got further. ”Mal,” Lucas called out excitedly. “Over here girl, nearly there,” he kept calling.
Zubats were known for being practically blind and Lucas knew this when he had sent her out. “Just hear, more this way, almost.” The black figure fluttered down with sharp movements before landing on her trainer’s shoulder with a large pant. “Good job girl,” he stroked her. “Did you find Pearl?”
In between gasps the Zubat gave a high-noted screech.
“Is she near?”
The Zubat confirmed again.
“Good. Nice job, you deserve some rest,” he retreated her to the safety of her Pokéball.
Behind them still lay the group of Sharpedo chasing them and the giant shadow beneath that surpassed them.
“Retreat Faust, we’re done here,” Lucas called back his Dusclops. “You should hang onto something,” he called to the others, neglecting to mention that their Pokémon would be safer inside their Pokéball. He gripped the railings tightly and waited.
The distance between the group and Sharpedo got greater as waves parted them further and further and one particularly large wave knocked their pursuers back into the horizon. The wave split, and revealed a giant wall rising out of its depth, leaning over the ship. Ahead of them, another wall rose peacefully from the violent waters to meet with the first one, closing the group off from the rain and light.
Darkness surrounded them quickly, and immediately afterwards Lucas’ reason for warning came into effect. On top of the restless sea the ship rocketed sideways and up, flinging of anyone who wasn’t holding on, before rocking back into the opposite direction. The waves continued to do this rocking for a while like a pendulum, and like a pendulum its swaying slowed down with every swing until the ship hull hit something and started skidding to a stop. The last wave washed over them with a small splash and finally receded to their back.
“So,” Lucas voiced chimed in the dark, “any of you know Flash?”
Lucas himself called out his Dusclops from earlier and something named ‘Wattson’ that produced a mechanical cry the moment it came out.
“Wattson.”
The cry kept continuing.
“Wattson.”
The cry got even worse.
“Wattson!”
The sound stopped as if someone had hit the mute button.
“There’s no machine around, calm down, you’re safe here. Now both of you use Flash.”
Everyone’s eyes burned for a moment when the light flashed brightly, before receding back into a soft glow; one red and one plain. The uncoloured one peered around the room and found the ships engine still slightly sputtering.
“MAG-MITE-MAG-MITE-MAG-MITE”
The loud screech sounded throughout the place that reminded one of a microphone being held to close to a speaker. And much like the microphone, the noise reached a crescendo so high-pitched it became inaudible to those that didn’t have sensitive hearing, but nevertheless pained their eardrums. Only Faust stood quietly and undisturbed in his place, fixing his gaze on the Magnemite. Finally, the noise stopped and the Magnemite dropped to the ground with a ploof, switching off its light.
Lucas voice returned from the dark, “Mind turning off the engine?”

Once the group regained its bearings, they gazed around the room in the hopes of finding where they were. (Unless you/your character caught on immediately.) A curtain of thin needles arched across one side to the next, surrounded on all sides by a soft, pinkish foam. The floor, once they disembarked, was slimy, soft and also pink - fleshy.
Once everyone had their full of gazing around and guessing where they were, Lucas spun around to them like a jester about to make an announcement. “Welcome to the inside of Pearl,” he grinned, “my Wailord.
Lucas waited for the information to sink that they were; inside a Wailord’s mouth, during a storm, possibly thousands of miles underwater. It was wet, dark and uncomfortable, and it was a whole lot better than being outside. There was little else to do for them other than head for the nearest island and wait.

[The group passed their time with various activities and exchanging questions. Lucas in particular wanted to ask the cowboy hat man, whom he had now learned to be named Keith, about his Dusknoir and how he achieved to obtain its final stage.]

---

Lucas dropped off the two trainers at the nearest island, and departed with few words; none of which were ‘thanks’ or ‘drop by again some time’. ‘Take care’ was about the best they got as he climbed on top of his Floating Whale to surf away on the calmed ocean. At least he remembered their names (presumably). Lucas wasn’t the best at social contact and it was clear he cared little for it, or, otherwise was very unaware of how little he understood of it.
Lucas was more interested in returning to his base, which by now consisted of nothing but splintered wood and broken furniture, spread around the tree which had effortlessly managed to survive the storm. There wasn’t a chance he was going to repair any of this, the place was a total loss, he would have to rebuild everything from scratch.
The stairs remained unaffected inside the tree trunk, safe for the brush off leaves and twigs. Up on the scaffold of surviving floorboards, Lucas called out all his Pokémon, each of which strained to not drop over the edge as they tried to find themselves a comfortable place to nestle on leftover couch pieces or piles off leaves. The whole group managed to survive an astounding four seconds before they broke into angry bickering, except Lucas’ new Slaking, who having calmed down after his violent outbreak, lied on his side lazily, gazed at his team mates boringly, scratched himself and turned to his other side.
“Now listen up,” Lucas ordered his Pokémon with great control, only the new baby Pokémon showing the faint glimpse of juvenile disobedience. “Our base is destroyed,” he informed them of the obvious, “and we’re going to have to rebuild. All of it.”
“But,” he looked around the group with a cheerful grin, “this gives us the chance to make it even better than before, and bigger, with more rooms, and you can all help decide how we build it.. and…and..”
Lucas kept searching his pockets and not finding something. His eyes fell on the strange flower that stood peacefully amongst the group as he tried to piece a few things together. “That..”

”THIEF!”
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