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Old 08-17-2017, 05:25 PM   #18
Ex-Admiral Insane
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(*A maggot crawls out of the dead Rattata’s mouth.* Maudlin, your lunch is escaping.)

~Please reply in Slategray~

The Park

Rollerquaza
Monster Guy: ~ last update


Funhouse
Missingo Master:
Meowth:
There was no way you were going to get in for a close attack. Before you would even be able to reach the Inkay and ghost child they would launch their own volley and push you back, and the narrow confines of the crawlspace didn’t allow much in the ways of evasion. A special move, a distant one, would be more optimal but the first move that came to mind was Hypnosis and Dream Eater. You shrug that thought off immediately. Bad idea to use that against a Psychic/Dark type. Even in a Topsy-Turvy world that might be hazardous. You recall the last time you had tried that, in vain. Keith had even so much as warned you about using those moves again.

And then it struck you. Of course, Bide was a move that could fire a large concentrated beam, but it would require you to withstand the full brunt of a few attacks first. You gave away the slightest of grins though, as you recall that the Inkay was stockpiling Psychic upon Psychic-type moves. It would be the perfect move.

The Inkay charges another spark of luminescent light at the beak, while you cross your arms charging your own energy in the form of an aura. The Inkay and ghost child stood in brief surprise at what you were planning but upon seeing your lack of movement chuckle and continue their attack nonetheless, clearly unaware of what you were planning. The Inkay fires of a Psywave attack, the maximum amount of rings managing to charge up and releasing themselves. One by one the rings strike you with small pinpricks of force, slowly shoving you back to the edge with each attack while you grimaced in pain. By the time the last Psywave ring had dissipated the Bide’s aura had not yet been broken. Your two aggressors take note of your lack of movement and deceive themselves into thinking the battle is nearly won.

“Inkay, use Psybeam.”

“Ink Inkay,” and another multicoloured beam of energy shot from the squid Pokémon’s body. The attack connected and pushed you back even further. You felt the chimney’s shaft encroaching upon you.

“Hold on Inkay. We’ve almost won.”

The Bide’s aura was still not broken and the back of your feet had passed the ledge, forcing you to balance on your toes. Almost…
You felt a surge of energy rise through your body as the last bit of energy needed was soaked up. In a splendorous display you unfold your arms and a brilliant white beam of focussed energy shot from your aura, easily overtaking the Psybeam and colliding with the Inkay. The whole corridor was lit up with the Psychic-typed, white light and you hear the muffled sounds of the Inkay being unable to withstand the super-effective, brute force of the Bide.

Seconds passed and eventually your attack dissipates. The Inkay’s body was spinning on its axis in tandem with its pupils which betrayed clear signs of having been knocked out. The Inkay’s body floats gracelessly towards the floor. The ghost child reaches out to grab it and within a moment you see the two of them vanish as the corridor twists around you, peeling back the dark layers to make way for dusty, prime-coloured panels. The whole room shifted as the effects of the Topsy-Turvy were being reverted and space itself was being restored. Shortly thereafter, you find you were actually standing on the ceiling by means of a painful thud as you connected with the ground.

[Success! Meowth gains 2 levels for beating the Inkay.]

The walkie-talkie didn’t work anymore. No matter how much you wanted to try the device had returned to being a mere toy, granting you no direct means of communication with Keith or Myrtle. The entirety of the Kitchen area, as you had found after climbing out of the chimney, was formatted as one-part crooked house and one-part jungle gym, its walls lined with padding in sharp corners – not that it had helped you in Topsy-Turvy world. The dining table was back to normal and consisted of the same plastic plates, cutlery, cups and food you saw before glued to a table that was just big enough for a toddler to hide under. A last bit of hope was given to you as arrows were drawn underneath the words exit that could lead you through the door marked “Cooler” and out of the room.

Your walkie-talkie had returned to life in the new room. That was at least a small bit of reassurance you were given as when you stared into the vast complexity of the Staircase room you found an M.C. Escher-designed Hogwarts lay-out of stairs with seemingly impossible turns connecting walls, ceiling and plateaus alike. The only doors you found were halfway up the walls at disjointed angles. Never mind finding the exit to this room, how were you going to get there?

What will Meowth do?

Keith:
Fang was tired from the continuous use of three-movers. He had to rest, and the ghost child was not going to grant him that so easily. Seeing your Pokémon’s fatigued state, the child and Inkay capitalise on it by firing another Psybeam. A direct hit. Fang was blown back in flurry, twirling in place like a dazed twister. He was near knock-out and wouldn’t be able to hold on for long if this was going to continue.

He quickly recuperates on hearing your orders and tries his best. From the tips of his leafy arms, energy constructs emerge like vines. The Inkay, too restricted in movement by your earlier Leech Seed, soon finds itself equally entwined by the Giga Drain.

“No!” the ghost child roared. “Inkay, try and get out!” The Inkay did its best but to little avail as paralysis hindered its movement even further.

Pearls of green energy travelled along the length of the vines which your Pokémon greedily soaks up. With the double-coiled Inkay held in place, Fang managed to hold on for longer than usual as each glob of energy revitalised him more, inspiring him to hold on for even longer.

The Giga Drain’s vines eventually had to recoil as Giga Drain’s turn ended, your Fang feeling as strong as he had moments before the battle.

“Now Inkay, attack.”

“Ink,” the Pokémon gasps. “Ink…inkay.”

“What’s wrong? Use Psybeam. Hurry!”

Fang follows the last of your orders quickly. Energy gathered inside his throat, soon filling up his entire mouth. A strange and dark colour rocketed from behind his fangs, easily striking the exhausted Inkay. The attack didn’t have to hold on for long. Soon after the attack had landed the Inkay’s body succumbed to the strange force of the [B]Nature Power[B]. The Inkay released its grip on consciousness and dropped raggedly, fading out of visibility alongside his partner ghost who was shouting confused statements loss, impossibility and unfairness.

[Success! Fang gains 2 levels from beating the Inkay.]
[Fang also gets 2 levels from beating the Inkay in the Hallway area which were neglected up until now.
]

A familiar spectacle played itself before your eyes as the room’s colours, shape and size reverted back to their proper dimensions. The whole display was dizzying for you and Fang but the ordeal quickened itself with a bright flash and soon after, you and Fang find yourself back in normal reality. You were in a kiddie’s ball-pit, that was easily to tell; the soft rubber edges of the pool were supposed to hold all the colourful, plastic balls except they had been scattered across the floor outside of the rink, like some sort of rough-and-tumble had recently occurred.

There were two easy exits to identify. On was the Ekans-tail slide spiralling upwards where it disappeared into the wall. The other was a door standing opposite and was most likely the very same door you had come through earlier. You knew were both of these led in Topsy-Turvy world. Which do you take now that you had returned? The walkie-talkies weren’t going to help, you wouldn’t even have to check to know that, both Meowth and Myrtle were going to be out of direct communication range for the time being.

What will Keith do?


kawaiiconcept: ~ last update


Fortune Teller’s Tent
Meetan:
You gazed deeper into the bathroom’s mirror. Your childish designs were thinner and paler from both exhaustion and the scare Phantom Isle had given you. The memories had settled nicely back into the back of your mind once more. The frequent disappearance and re-emergence was taking a toll on your body, physically and mentally. It was becoming harder and harder to tell what was real and what wasn’t. And Masaru, Masaru was still nowhere to be found. He should have been here, fitting nicely into the memory of having met him for the first time, but instead an Espurr was surrogating the role. You were about to be sick again…

Back in your room the cat-like Pokémon betrayed one of the first of her personalities, namely that of a curious mind. While you were gone discovering your child stomach’s contents, the Espurr had taken an interest in discovering your room. Your wardrobe was dishevelled, clothes scattered across your childhood room while various toys were brought out in a half-willed attempt to play with them. Nothing was broken, but still. The pounding in your head began again. By now you had an idea of what this meant; your memories were about to readjust themselves once more. The Espurr looked at you worryingly and came to your aid, though there would be little she could do. Your vision started distorting itself again and blackness soon swooped in front of your eyes before a pinprick of light emerged that came through the slit underneath the bed.

Back to an earlier memory you had visited, the one of you and your mother playing hide-and-seek. Last time, you left when your mother was urging you to go under the bed. She put a hand against her lip to be quiet. You heard commotion coming from further away. Shouting? Someone was having an argument. Your feet were abruptly pulled back by the darkness and your body was quickly torn away from the memory once again. A flash of light hits your eyes and rests easily once more.



It was a calm and pleasant day in the forest. Unlike before, your memories had remained intact this time. You recall everything still from Phantom Isle and the bizarre attempts it had made on revisiting your adulterated memories. This one would likely be no different, as you found yourself in the younger body you were in when this memory played out. You recall this instance vividly; the time you were nearly attacked (and/or chased) by a Persian. The forest itself was just like any other and didn’t appear much different than last time. You gaze through the treetops in search of the Pokémon. No sign of the Persian, yet. Aside from that, the only change noticeable so far was that the Espurr had surprisingly travelled with you this time. Sitting in a crash-landing position amongst the fallen foliage lay the little kitten, gazing at you in slight panic of the change in scenery. Her ears perked up – she had picked up on something.

“Purrrrrrsssian,” something purred. There was no indication where the sound came from but you remember in your heart that you were about to be attacked.

It’s younger you, the Espurr and the violent Persian from your memories.

What do you do?


The Ghost Train
Fishyfool:
You felt somewhat defeated after hearing all you had, but remained determined that there must be at least some way to get out of here. If not for you, then perhaps for your partners. Perhaps if you explained everything to Virgil the two of you could find some way. Even if he did protest the very idea before it had even been suggested.

You pick yourself up and head inside the glass train station. The glass itself was rather opaque, obscuring the view of much what was inside, but once through the crystal revolving door, you emerged into a vast complex of nineteenth-century gothic architecture. Polished stone plates were lined neatly in the floor, reaching far to the other side while supporting decorated, obsidian pillars which in turn supported the scaffolding upon which the glass dome rested. Various stalls and vendor resided within alcoves, separated by stony columns. A multitude of benches were installed throughout the station, each occupied by a glum spirit. The area was packed with them, the floor obscured by their stacked bodies as most were forced to stand or lie on the ground due to lack of space. Despite the enormity of the crowd that inhabited the place, there was not a single voice to be heard as each spirit was too defeated to so much as utter a single word to one another. It was a silence of the dead masses.

The same wisps you saw outside drifted amongst the crowd, ignored by all. One such wisp surprised you as it jumped into the sight from behind you. You recalled Virgil having said they were the spirits of shy beings, in all likelihood Pokémon. The wisp started dancing around you in an erratic fashion but was unable to make any discernible sound or portray a single feeling. Strangely, you wondered if this was the same will-o-wisp that bothered you and Virgil outside. The wisp wouldn’t leave, even if you tried to shoo it away, and merely continued its prancing, stopping every now and again in front of you before repeating itself.

The office was easily located. To your side you found a small kiosk of sorts nestled into the architecture as if a part of it. The last of the undead conductors were entering it, but it was the lone skeleton standing just a way off from it that attracted your attention. Crammed into a dark corner behind a column, away from the crowd of spirits, a single skeleton stared at you and beckoned for you to come over. His lidless eyes continued their stare in anxious anticipation and you felt for a moment a familiarity, as if you had met him before.

The will-o-wisp, the crowd of spirits, the conductor’s office and now a lone skeleton. As if you didn’t have enough to handle with your ordeal there appeared to be a lot more going on for you to uncover. Most of all, the skeleton, which appeared to want to remain out of clear view, was clearly eager to talk to you.

What do you do?


Lil’twick:
"Uh, I just fell down here from the train I was on... That's all. I'm not a mage..."

“Oh.”

“Oh,” the boy’s grip loosens slightly as he gazes a bit more gloomy and you take the chance to create a bit of distance between you and the overly intimate spiritualist. You declare you saw some Pokémon earlier and are looking for them, asking the Hex Maniac if he might have seen them. The boy looks at you, slightly bewildered and sullen still before listlessly pointing into the distance behind.

You had your answer and you set out. You paid no mind to the Hex Maniac. If he wanted to follow he could but you weren’t going to force it out of him. His silence continues along with your own as you make your way around ruins of broken walls and shattered church towers, when suddenly the voice of the boy perks up behind you, shouting at you.

“Wait! I know how to get out!”

Just as before, the boy’s ecstatic expression was plastered across his face as he hurried towards you with incessant zealotry. He runs up to you in a flash put stops suddenly, just a mere few steps away. He stares in shock at the air up ahead of you – a view blocked to you by the nearvy wall – before sprinting with even more fervour in your direction. His expression had turned white as a sheet, fear having taken a hold of him. He closes in and you realise last-minute that he wasn’t going to slow down. It was too late for you to react by the time he had caught up and before you knew it he forcefully tackled you down to the ground. You want to move, reach up or shout out (whatever you prefer) but the boy pins you down and clasps a hand around your mask before placing a finger from his other against his lips. He urges you to move closer to the wall while he crawls himself. The two of you press yourself against the cobblestone. You didn’t know what was going on at first until a shadow grew across the ground. You looked up, the boy’s hand clasping itself around your mask once again just in case as you witnessed a giant hand floating gently above you - a hand twice the size of full-grown adults, made of elephant-grey skin and smooth, stocky fingers.

The hand continued its float above you before moving on and disappearing around a pile of stones. The boy didn’t let go of your mask for a few more moments though but when he felt it was safe to talk again he unclasped his hand and gave a huge sigh of relief.

“Those things,” he speaks in a quieter tone, “are the wardens of this place. They scour the land for those who don’t belong and destroy them.” He looks you dead in the eye. “That means you and me.” He gazes back into the distance to note if there are any signs of the hand re-emerging, then looks back at you, his Cheshire grin having near-returned. “The wardens are strong. Even if you managed to defeat one, the others will be alerted and come swarming to your place. They’re the sharks of the dead.”

“Now, about your quest. I know how to get out of this place. It’s easy for me to leave. I’m only channeling my spirit, so I can leave whenever I want to. But you, if you’re really not a spiritualist then you’re in deep trouble. You’re not going to find a way out unless you have my help.”

“There’s a legend,” he continues to explain, “that there’s an artefact in this realm. It was rumoured to be made by the gods themselves, and it was made in a different realm. The gods placed it here so that they may return if they were ever trapped here.”

“That artefact…" He pokes his head around the corner of the wall and looks out into the distance. His full grin returned again and he grabbed another excited hold of you. “I know where it is. It can help you get out.”

“You want to find those Pokémon first though, right? So how about we find your Pokémon, then go find the artefact and get you out of here? Even if you didn’t want my help, the other grey watchers will catch you if you’re on your own. You need my help.”

How does Austin respond?


The Hotel
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