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Old 09-06-2017, 09:28 AM   #72
Meetan
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Join Date: Feb 2012
Location: England
Posts: 377
ooc: WHAT UP FIZZBY?! IT'S ME, YA GIRL, ALICE ROCKIN UP TO YOUR ISLES WITH SOME UPDOOTS. The faster you reply to my crazy caboose, the faster your adventure will go (just ask MM about Whale Island), so buckle the fuzzle up and get your posties in people, it's adventure time!

Median Dia: At your question, the twins exchange slightly unnerved looks. As different as they usually are, they display that eerie sibling connection people talk about, making similar sounds of discomfort before Simon speaks up first.

“Y- yeah. Kind of. It sounds like they're... Up to weird stuff. No good.” The boy adds, to your relief, because god forbid it's the alternative in the secret hideout of children. You came here to explore and chill, not walk in on that kind of trauma, “They sound older than us, too. Maybe we should tell an adult?”
“Then everyone will know where our base is!” Angelica seethed. Simon flinched. Celia didn't seem impressed, either. After all, it wasn't really a secret base, more a quiet spot of the island and one of many near the coursing river. Their lives weren't worth risking over something minute, but neither Simon nor Angelica seemed keen to retreat. Straining one's ears, there's definitely a cluster of voices ahead-- four, maybe five, mostly male and a mix of ages. A single feminine voice stands out as particularly menacing, and there's also an odd sort of squeaking. It sounds sentient and troubled, more like a tiny creature than an actual chew toy. However, for all you know, it might be one and the same by now. Childish doe eyes peered up at you with hope and expectation of solving their problems – and the problem of Living Chew Toy - for them.

So what do you do? You're not gonna leave these poor, hopeless kids to fend against their child-hating narrator alone, are you...?

Are you?


-

Brave Saix: The tent is larger than one might think at first, although that might be down to the high ceiling and how the dim lighting casts its shadows just so around the structure. Within are more people dressed in blue, their expressions all serious as they murmur among themselves. The décor within hints to the religion being researched, ornaments in aquatic and complimenting colours set on mostly-wooden surfaces. You and Matthew get the impression that it's all handmade and some of it very old. Set aways from each other, standing out in their places, are Manaphy, Kyogre and Phione. They look like they were lovingly carved from precious stones.

All chatter ceases as you enter with Matthew, and eyes regard you with a mixture of bewilderment and disdain. Unwelcoming to outsiders indeed, one of the villagers – a tall, stern man in his twenties – speaks up without hesitation. “What is the meaning of this?! We don't have the time to risk researchers and tourists! They're all doing enough damage as it is!”
“Yes, yes.” The elder, stood, resting on a cane of his own, nods his head. His tone sounded dismissive, however. He was more interested in the conversation going on in front of him, one which he ended up roped into. Matthew looked afraid to be pulled into this dangerous mess whatever it was, even if your points were sound and likely meant that he wouldn't need to get too stuck in. “I do agree. Two people are better than one, especially in a situation like this. You could be the difference between life and death for this boy and your friend here-- who I'd prefer didn't call me ma'am, regardless of how beautifully I've aged.”
The remark drew a few faint smirks and smiles from the audience around the tent. The woman spoke next to back you up.
“Yes, yes. And struggle builds character! Besides, why should we allow a coward to research and risk ruin to our sacred grounds? Our rites and settlement demand respect, and if you are not willing to stand by your companions or morals in time of need, then why should we stand by you?”

More nodding and murmurs of agreement, and in unison it all appeared to break the straw in the Numel's back. Matthew caved. “I-- I suppose you're right. I would hate for anything to happen to you, or the boy, or this place...” The guide's tone is still wavering, and one wouldn't be wrong to question his resolution or reliability. “I'll go with you. If only to watch your back, or moral support, and all that. Maybe it would help me learn to battle to observe.” He added, although chances were at his age Matthew had observed enough battles to have at least an inkling of how to handle himself.

“Well, then. Now that that's settled. I am Hao'li, and I am the elder of Cordina Peak.” The pretty, grey-haired man introduced. His tone was serene and grounded, tranquil like the waters they worshipped and protected, “As it appears you have heard, a boy has been taken hostage in the cave systems by one of our shrines. We believe this to be the actions of a radical group that has formed in the area. One of the members has supposedly gone rogue and is acting out. Until now, innocent children weren't drawn into the conflict, but...” The elder trailed off with a sigh.

“We would like this matter dealt with before the group finds word of it, or it might escalate into extreme violence, with even greater trauma for the boy, environment and greater community.” Hao'li summarised, “How is up to you, if you feel you can handle it alone, but safety of the child is paramount and we won't hesitate to stop you if you cause greater risk. I do believe that's a fair way of going forward?”

Well, is it?


-

PikaGod: Your summary is short, sweet and effective. The hunk really must have been concussed, because a lightbulb seems to go off in his head, as if you had helped him to understand something of great complexity. “Yeah... Yeah, I think so.” He replied, hand coming up to timidly scratch at the back of his head. “Oh, I was training with my Dewott. She's a real fighter, she'll definitely be making trouble if she can.” Of course, with all of his Poke Balls missing too, chances were the creature had been sealed away, unable to be found by Speaker. “I would appreciate the help, though, for sure. It won't go unrewarded. Oh! I'm Akuma, by the way. You?”

He offers a coarse hand to shake, but whether or not you take it, it's obvious that rising concern for his friend and Pokemon were gnawing at a scattered mind. Akuma's eyes skimmed the beach, and he finally retracts his hand, “I'm gonna ask if anyone's seen my friend. He's a tough guy like me, caramel hair like this--” Akuma makes vague gestures that sort of look like slicked back style with some stray, unkempt bangs, but it's hard to tell. “Had on some sports trunks and a light shirt last I saw him. I'll be around, give me a shout if you find anything, yeah? Thanks again!”

With that, Akuma wandered off at an unstable, brisk pace, to both be a help and hindrance to himself and society. What do you do?


-

Missingno. Master: Jack takes the three of you out, rowing at an easy pace. The surroundings were tranquil: seagull still coasted overhead, but otherwise it was quiet except for the occasional rush of water here and there. Orta Lake was clear enough that if one stared hard enough they might be able to see schools of fish and other creatures beneath. At almost every angle, there was a distant fisherman perched with their own boxes, rods and maybe a companion or two.

“At least those kids are having a good time.” Jack chuckled. His comment wasn't random. You both could hear what sounded like the coolest fishing party ever out of sight, and you considered that their ruckus was probably scaring off potentially decent catches. The shack owner is still gutted that all of his decent lures had been swiped, but doesn't let it show too much. Instead, as promised, he shows you how best to set up your rod and offers you the prime picking from his mini-fridge. It's a tad awkward because of the lack of space, but once you're sorted, there's nothing left but to wait it out and chatter-- which is interesting for Jack, given the talking Meowth and his weird manner of speech.

Just enough time passes that at least one of your Pokemon might be getting bored-- and Arceus forbid it be a hungry Aster. Thankfully, though, you feel a tug at your brand new rod. “Oh! A bite!” Jack perked up, as if he were some kind of NPC following a script. Can you imagine? “Quick, reel it in!” The elder encouraged, enthused, but that's when shizzle gets messy. The tug isn't tame anymore-- whatever is tugging on that rod has some serious strength (HM?) and is threatening to pull you in or take your rod at the very least. Not only that, but the boat begins to rock with force, and all of a sudden there's a severe pummelling at the floor. This is not the Banette's Revenge, unless by that you mean the possibility of tens upon tens of Banette's trying to crash through the deck and drown you for your sins.

You just came out for a good time, and you're so attacked right now. What do you do?


-

Sandaa: As awkward as you might have felt from talking to some random kids' parents, the parents themselves didn't seem so bothered by it. With how boistrous they were, it was likely that they ran up and engaged interesting strangers all the time. The more one thinks about it, it's amazing they haven't been kidnapped or devoured by a Pokemon far less patient than Aero-- but nevermind. If the distant distractions of scuba diving and stranger danger had showed on his face, neither father was going to embarrass the visitor by mentioning it.

“Oh yeah? Sounds like you might have even got further ahead than me with all that adventuring,” Bill remarked with compliment in his tone. His daughter seemed to sour a little, as if she were upset at her father's modesty. She said nothing of it, though, eavesdropping while pretending to take interest in the ever-neglected Marill, “You'd have plenty of fun scuba diving around here. Could even give the professor a hand if you wanted to do some research yourself-- but he's not having much luck with his own equipment, honestly.”

Before one of the kids can open their gob and whinge for more violence in their lives, they might get what they wish for without siccing the store manager on you. Down the beach from whence you came was an outburst of screaming, and mixed within it was the urgent, panicked cry of a young Pokemon. Seconds later, throngs of people could be seen rushing in various directions, their property mostly abandoned on the sand. Both Bill and Dennis shot up, but the children were frozen in fear. Said emotion only grew stronger as a great, angry roar punctuated the coast. Bill looked ready to play rescuer, but what about you?
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Last edited by Meetan; 09-06-2017 at 11:33 AM.
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