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Old 05-02-2017, 09:24 AM   #40
Ex-Admiral Insane
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Originally Posted by Marion Ette View Post
In the time following the grisly events which transpired in the very Bastion that Lucas now approaches, hunters of all types have swarmed Goldenridge City, looking for treasure... but treasure is so often a subjective term – one man's expensive antique on display is another's gaudy eyesore gathering dust – and while it was true that the gleam of gold had tainted the eyes of many a trainer in this land, Lucas' mind betrays the true intention behind his seemingly materialistic focus. In the momentary spark of psychic union between trainer and Pokemon, Rags perceives the true nature of the “treasure” which Lucas seeks, and that momentary spark reawakens the fires of the Gallade's resolve. Our heroes – whether or not they would appreciate the term - march on.

Even with this renewed resolve, however, there were the ominous myths to contend with. Of course, they were only myths... but there's something about the way the heavy, gold-plated doors hang out of their hinges, pulled open as if their immense weight were immaterial to those who broke through, the dark, yawning expanse within the entryway, and the shimmer of promised wealth within suffocating darkness that lends some credence to the whispered tales. As the light sensors trigger upon recognizing movement in the entrance hall, the area floods with artificial light, oddly still functional after a year of abandonment – and the scene is laid out before Lucas and Rags.

Excessive displays of wealth define practically every architectural and decorative decision within the Entrance Hall, from top to bottom; a golden sky stretches over the pair of adventurers, with silver clouds carefully molded atop the ceiling, surrounding a giant, glittering yellow sapphire and citrine sun with flecks of gold to accentuate its brilliance. The large, heavy glass windows, strong enough to repel bullets, are framed by thick silk curtains with incredibly detailed stitching of various Pokemon in lifelike poses. Each mother-of-pearl tile on the floor beneath them features a very intricate, hand-etched Meowth, with a tiny, individually-carved, inlaid gold coin on its head. Just a small piece of the ceiling, or a tile from the floor, could fetch a good price back home. A number of pewter stands scattered around the foyer have been knocked over, the valuables displayed upon them missing, but even the stands themselves (if one was willing to carry them, given their weight) could fetch a decent payout... Some even appear to have silver accents and etchings.

But even all this finery cannot compare to the pičce de résistance, which stands at the very center of the entrance hall – an off-set statue of a classy looking gentleman in his mid-40s, plated in silver. He stands beside a pair of jeans sculpted in amber, with curls of hair falling past the knees and a feminine hand still posed on the hip – the rest of the sculpture, above the waist, lying in shattered amber fragments around its feet and spread all the way towards the right-hand staircase. Indeed, there appear to be fragments of gold, bronze and marble littered across the floor, all around the statues' feet, indicating perhaps that more figures once stood in this centerpiece... probably about five in all, including the one and a half present. By the right heel of the amber statue appears to be a crumpled human figure with long, dark-brown hair, lying face down in what appears to be a giant, sticky, dark red splotch, a shade darker than the clothes the figure wears. White marks cover the figure's shoulder blades, and a yellow ring appears to be painted around the head. A Pokeball lies close to the outstretched right hand, while the left is held at the neck, from where the splotch radiates. Part of the artwork, perhaps...? But judging by the horrific stench lingering in the air, such a judgment would be wishful thinking at best.

The foyer is ominously silent. If there is anyone else present, they have not made their presence known to Lucas or Rags.

The next step is yours. Tread carefully.
The first thing the two of them noticed when stepping in was the smell of the room. A horrid stench permeated the room and just when the two of them took their next few steps the zap of the motion detectors switched on the lights. The artificial glow rained down on the floor tiles, revealing intricate pictures of Meowth etched in the iridescent white slabs, each adorned with its own golden coin. The rays further bounced off of every shimmering object in the room, which to Lucas and Rags’s amazement was everywhere they looked, and for a moment the two stood in awe at the luxury that was surrounding them. Gold ceilings and silk curtains laid the boundaries of the room with silver and gems filling everywhere in between, resembling clouds or suns. Lucas wasn’t fully aware of the cause for the city’s downfall but if he had to guess he would have attributed it to wealth disparity. ’Who would blame them, he thought as he marvelled at the room.

“You know. We could just stop what we’re doing now and take as much here as we can. We’d be set for life.”

“Gal,” Rags unwittingly admitted, before snapping out of his gazing trance and subsequently knocking his trainer out of his.

The place had appeared to be ransacked some time ago. The pewter stands had been knocked over, the valuables they held missing as none could be found scattered across the floor. Large chunks of gold, bronze, marble and amber littered the floor surrounding the statue though. The statue itself was of silver and denoted a gentleman in the prime of his mid-life crisis, beside which a broken stub of amber was moulded into a pair of jeans and hair.

“What do you reckon? Five statues, five council members?”

“Gal.” It seemed like the obvious conclusion.

“Gal!” he tugs Lucas and points towards the base.

“What?” The blood drained from Lucas’ face momentarily. At the foot of the silver statue lay the source of the stench in a pool of blood; in the centre a crumpled body, one hand holding onto a Pokéball, another on the neck. Lucas gulped and the two of them stayed in brief shock long enough to realize how eerily quiet the room was. Finally, Lucas attempted a step forward but Rags quickly pulled him back.

“Gal,” he indicated the wound on the neck. Rags was making it clear he suspected the person to have been attacked. Judging by the pool of blood and the fact a hand was held by her neck indicated she didn’t die immediately, and instead was left to bleed out on her own.

“You can’t know that,” Lucas protested. “What do you think you are? A Super Pokémon Level Detective?” Rags ignored his trainer’s jab, keeping his eyes concentrated on the body. “So tell me then, what do you think the paint is? Gang signs?” Rags raised an eye. He hadn’t noticed up until now but white marks covered the shoulder along with a yellow ring around her head.”

“Gal-gallade.” (I hope not.) A stroke of anger etched itself on his face. Rags was visibly infuriated about the amount of disrespect shown. Someone was left to bleed out slowly, only to have her body be be defiled afterwards like common property-

“It’s a halo,” Lucas interrupted Rags’ thoughts.


“See the ring on her head? It’s yellow like a halo. The white marks must resemble wings of some kind, like an angel.”

Unnecessary Intermezzo:
Spoiler: show
“Gallade? Gal, gallade?” (An angel? Like Michael, Raphael and Gabriel?)

“No those are Archangels.”

“Gal-gallade?” (Arc-Angel?)

“No, archangel”

“Lade gal, gal gallade.” (Since it’s a body in blood wouldn’t that make it a Fallen Angel?)

“Yes, I suppose it would.”

(Lucas and Rags exchange glances between one another and the fourth wall.)

Lucas gingerly placed a foot in the direction of the body. Rags grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him back hard with a ‘Gal!’.

“Ssssht,” Lucas pressed his finger against his mouth. “Don’t shout. The attacker might still be here.”

“Gal-lade,” (exactly), he whispered.

Lucas merely indicated the Pokéball. Clearly it looked like the person had attempted to put up a fight, though there was no sign of a Pokémon nearby.

“Gallade?” (So you want to check if there’s a Pokémon in there that needs help?)

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he scoffed. “I want to know if it’s a rare Pokémon I can claim.” He couldn’t have lied worse if he tried.

Lucas again attempted to walk towards the body only to be pulled back a third time. “Again? This is starting to become repetitive.”

“Lade-a-gal. Gallade gal.” (If you get near it, you’ll open yourself up for attack. For all you know it was the Pokémon who did it to her.)

Lucas threw his arms up in defeat. “Okay fine, you made your point. Let’s go upstairs and ignore the body of someone who might need our help. If there is a wounded Pokémon I’m sure it can take care of itself.” Lucas walked back and in the direction of the staircase. “You coming?”

Rags exchanged glances that fluctuated between puzzlement and worry as he lookat Lucas and the body. Lucas kept his face out of view of Rags to conceal the fact that he was smirking. “You can’t do it, can you? The justice Pokémon can’t in good conscience abandon someone who might need his help.” A vein popped on the Gallade’s forehead. Clearly Lucas made it sound like he was mocking him, though luckily for his emotional connection he quickly figured out he was only making a point.

“Gallade?” (You weren’t planning to abandon them either were you?) “Lade gal, gallade.”(We still need to remain cautious, as we might get attacked.)

“Aww, are you scared? You afraid you can’t handle one surprise attack?” Lucas continued to tease his Pokémon. The Gallade merely let the comment slide off his shoulder.

“Gal. Lade.” (I’m not afraid of myself. It’s you who can’t protect himself without a Pokémon by his side.) He drew Lucas’ attention to the body, more specifically to its wound. Without even realising it Lucas was rubbing his neck out of discomfort, envisioning he could be attacked in a similar manner.

“…gallade.” (This just reeks of some kind of trap, doesn’t it?)

Lucas could only give a confirming nod, his expression having turned into a near scowl after taking another look at the body. “Just stay close to me. Use Wide Guard to protect yourself and me from any first strike, False Swipe to hold off a Pokémon if it’s startled. If the attacker comes…” Lucas thought for a moment, “…use whatever you have,” and by that Lucas meant Rags was given full permission to use any offensive attack he had to hold them off. And with that, the two gently closed in on the body first, in the hopes the person might still be alive. If not, Lucas would turn to the Pokéball to see if there was a Pokémon in need of help, or if it would bring them answers on what had happened.

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Last edited by Ex-Admiral Insane; 05-02-2017 at 03:42 PM.
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