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Old 09-27-2017, 04:49 AM   #23
Ex-Admiral Insane
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(“Oh my god Maudlin, did you evolve?” *Dead Raticate on desk says nothing.*)

~Please reply in Slategray~

The Park

Monster Guy: ~ last update

Missingo Master:
With the Topsy-Turvy effects removed, you opt to climb up the Ekans slide once more, anticipating perhaps a different outcome. The climb up went easily enough. That was, until, you felt the pull of gravity shift ever so slightly as you headed towards the other side – the other room – and soon you found yourself in the similar predicament of sliding up the spiral, only to be regurgitated by the Ekans’ head onto the hard floor of the paradoxical stairwell room you were in before. Fang is beside you, and for whatever reason – perhaps you made a noise – a voice calls out to you that you recognise.

Up above, clung to a ceiling like a frightened cat, Meowth gazed at you with a quizzical stare as both of you ponder for a slight moment to decide which one of you was the one who was walking right-side up, and who was touring the ceiling.

(Walkie-talkies will not be needed for communication as long as both participants are in the room – though perhaps you might still find it better suited. I don’t know. You decide.)

Your conference was abruptly cut off by a cackling laugh. The child’s voice conjured itself with taunting jabs. “You’re very good. You found all my friends, but you won’t catch me! You have to catch me before midnight. That’s what all the stories say. And Inkay told me there’s less than an hour left. She says you’re not going to find me in time so I should help you.”

“I don’t want to help you, but Inkay said I was being scared I would be found. But you’re just a Tauros-head. You can’t find me even if I help you…”

“INKAY!” the girl’s voice shouted. “Go!”

The room trembled in its place and sent quaking ripples down all six surfaces of the room. The walls shifted and collapsed upon themselves to make way for a black void in which singular white panes emerged. Contours ran down the edges and pictures of Pokémon emerged on them. The stairs twisted and curled anew, giving way to the centre of the room. In the centre, a strange polyhedral container emerged, floating untethered to any other surface with smooth edges and white panes of its own rising out of its shell.

“I’m hiding in the Dar-, I mean, Inkay room. Good luck finding it,” she taunted.

You looked around and saw the white panes had fully-formed by now to lone standing doors. Each side of the room, as well as the polyhedron in the middle, having its own set, making for a total of seven traversable surfaces. The doors directly accessible to you were: two up a flight of stairs, one of which twisted mid-air upside down, and two others in the sides of the wall for a total of four. The Ekans’s head had remained, though there was no sign of a body that continued anymore. Pictures had fully coalesced with an illusory pattern on each door, resembling Pokémon; a Carnivine, Feraligatr, Nosepass and Marowak. Meowth too, had doors of his own to pick from, one down a flight of stairs (or up in Meowth’s case) and ending abruptly mid-air where it connected with one. Two more, one of which was located in the floor like a trapdoor, and one which was as average as they came to his side. The pictures on his doors depicted a Timburr, Lapras and Eevee. If he tried, the door behind him leading to the kitchen area was locked. For both of you, the stiarwells twisted enough around one another that you might be able to shortcut from one onto another, but the shifting logic of gravity might make that a harder task than it would initially appear.

This is your last puzzle it would seem. The ghost child seemingly helped you and gave you a clue to proceed, but how was it connected to your sudden change in surroundings?

What do you do?

kawaiiconcept: ~ last update

Fortune Teller’s Tent
You made your best attempt to spur the Espurr into battling alongside you. You might have been in a child’s body, but you had your adult mind intact. Battling was more of a viable option now than it would have been last time you faced off the Persian. The Espurr however, quivered in its place at the mere thought of it, anxious of what was about to happen and what was being asked of it. There was little time to ponder though as another purr reached down from the canopy and leaves rustled when a dark shade leapt down behind a tree trunk. It was closing in.

The figure emerged into the spilling light, revealing a cat-like creature as expected, though one entirely unanticipated. The (female) Meowstick bared her fangs at the two of you and gazed still. The Espurr tugs on your leg and indicates towards the would-be attacker, exchanging cheerful smiles between you and the Meowstick as if knowing the beast. It abruptly lets go, making disjointed and hurried steps to the Pokémon while flailing its arms with excitement. As soon as the Espurr was within range, the Meowstick raises a paw and channels an energy before swiftly punting back the small frame of the tiny cat to the ground. The Espurr meekly picks herself up and hurries back to you with tears and a frightened pout. She desperately clings onto your leg, hoping you’d do something when the Meowstick opens its mouth to give another terrorising cry.

“Purrrrrrrrsian,” the Meowstick called out, the voice asynchronous with the jaw’s movements. Like static on a TV with bad reception, the visage of the Meowstick blurred and briefly betrayed the look of a wiry cat with frothy white, shaggy fur before relapsing back to the more delicate and prim form of the Meowstick. Something was very clearly off about this memory. The Meowstick fixes her stare at you and then the Espurr, exposing a voracious glare as she grinned her teeth. She approached with a gangly leap, baring her fangs once more and startling the Espurr into firing a Confusion like you had ordered. The reactively quick attack knocked the Meowstick off guard mid-air, bouncing her back a few feet away. The cat immediately picks herself and readies to pounce again, shaking off the Espurr’s attack like it was nothing. Little knowledge is needed to recognise that the power levels of the two cats was hugely disproportionate, and your further experiences of battling had you hazard a guess that the Espurr was roughly level 10, hardly a powerhouse at this point and in desperate need of a larger movepool as well.

You briefly recall that there were some tricks to this forest that you knew from last time. One of these things was that berries grew in grove patches somewhere nearby, if only you could recall where. You had prior experience of this area and knew of a few other places. Perhaps you could use them? [(Feel free to come up with something – you’re in large control of the environment, just not the characters outside of Alice. Player is free to shape this specific environment to their liking as longs as it’s still forest-y.)] Alternatively, you could use your battling experience to come up with a strategy and take the Meowstick head on; or take a run for it, perhaps even abandoning the Espurr to use as a decoy while you make your escape. By and large, sound judgement would dictate that if you didn’t come up with a plan, the battle between the Espurr and Meowstick would be over soon, and not in your favour.

What do you do?

The Ghost Train
You carefully treaded closer to your beckoning acquaintance, all the while taking in your environment carefully as you contemplated the overwhelming magnitude of new information and people you had come across. Wisps, skeletons, zombies, ghosts, banshees, runaway trains, dead… that last one still stung a bit, didn’t it? One could have argued that something like this would have been expected in a place dubbed the Phantom Isle, but still… Your thoughts wander for a brief few moments more but focus back to the skeleton lurking in the shadows who you were nearing. His eyes betrayed a dull strength, a focus of mind as they danced around your body, sizing you up. His sclera, constantly exposed to air from lack of skin to protect it, had remained a marble white in spite of it. The very fact became an odder peculiarity when, once up close, you realize his body was picked clean off every scrap and slither of flesh and skin. Murky white bone glistened from the few light beams perpetrating the shadows, illuminating his outfit which, to no small surprise perhaps, was in tatters and desperate need of replacement – the fact that it wasn’t, merely added to his undead disposition. Unlike the other zombies you had seen before, this one appeared to have been buried for years where maggots had crawled through his intestines and eased his fleshy burden, like some sort of zombified version of a spa day.

You were practically face to face, hiding yourself amongst the shadow of the alcove’s pillar. " need me for something? I don't know if we've met before?"

His eyes fix onto yours. His voice was a deep, throaty rasp, one similar to a long-term smoker who had indulged in other equally unhealthy habits that took a toll on his larynx, but never quite finished the job as he never once stopped for breath, wheezed or coughed. “Need you?” he cackled. “Kid, I’m here to help you. You’re the new arrival, correct? I assume you want to get out. So I’m willing to help you return to the living world. If that is what you want.”

Virgil’s words returned to you, ”Once you’re here you become part of the dead. And there’s no turning back so don’t even ask”. “Now now,” the skeleton protested, as if knowing you were recalling what Virgil had told you. “Let me guess, Virgil told you there’s no way back. That old codger’s got a few too many maggots rotting in his brain if you know what I mean,” he tapped his temple while he did. “There’s always a way out, Virgil just doesn’t like discussing it. And if he can’t get out you can forget him ever helping out anyone else around here. He’s a worker, not a volunteer after all. Spend a few years here and you’ll know what I mean. I, on the other hand…” he let his words rest on you for a moment.

“I can freely choose to help people if they want. All they have to do is ask, and all they have to do is return the favour. To get out of here requires me to do a fair bit of work for you. And people usually get paid for work, and I don’t like doing things for free.” It is at this point you realise the lack of tongue in the skeleton’s jaw did not stop it from speaking his mind even once. “So, if you want me to tell you how to get out and to make the preparations, I will have to ask for something in return. Don’t worry, it’s a small thing and won’t cost you much, barely a thing at all.”

If at any one point you asked him if you had met before, the skeleton replies “Don’t know, might just be that I have a very familiar face,” as he strokes his skull’s chin with his bony hands, seemingly joking you.

“Now I need to know I can trust you. Virgil will not like it once he knows what we’re up to, so you’d better keep this between you and me. Trust me kid, my method has a 100% success rate of getting you back, assuming you’ll do your part of course.”

“So, do we have a deal?”

(Choose your reaction and questions carefully, as this may be the only chance you get for information. You can set out a list of things you want him to tell you instead of just a singular response.)

What do you do?

You felt you had little choice but to let the meddling Hex Maniac join you. If he did know how to get you out, it might have been the only way. Not that you liked the option very much either way though.

"So where is this thing?" you inquired towards the artefact the Hex Maniac mentioned earlier. His face reappears from behind the wall as he looked out for any other Grey Wardens in the area. Despite your efforts to keep your space from him, the Hex Maniac would frequently attempt to intrude upon it as the two of you made your way from broken walls to ruins and shambles, often by physically touching you with feverish zealotry from his fascination for you. [You are free to add these moments throughout your replies as you see fit.] The ruins were sparse at first but soon cramped upon one another like you and your companion, as if heading closer towards the centre of a dead metropolis. The buildings, while in shambles, got larger, and soon complete structures were made visible in the form of half-crumbled churches and temples.

“The artefact,” the Hex Maniac whispers in your ear with a ticklish breath, “lies in a shrine that now only exist in this area. History says that civilisations revered the shrine and its artefacts, often erecting places of worship close to them. All of them have been wiped out but their sanctuaries remained in the afterlife so to speak.” An eye across the ravaged pantheons around you gave you an idea of what he was talking about. “The building itself though was said to have not been made by man, but by a god. It should be on the outskirts of these ruins, though I’m not entirely sure where, but we’ll know when we see it,” he produced his caricature grin once more, “large, pristine, and untouched by time, made in ways that would take mankind thousands of years before they could reproduce it, or so they say. Most think it’s just a story, but I believe it exists. Many of my kind say they’ve seen it. Problem is, no one can enter it.”

“You see,” he attempts to rattle you by lightly rubbing your shoulders, “they say that man had desecrated the shrine and exploited its artefacts for selfish reasons. Out of anger the gods punished them by sacking their buildings and removing the shrine from their world. Many ancient writings described the event, often with floods, raining fire, earthquakes and unnatural storms. Most ‘scholars’,” he said with a clear hint of disgust to them, “say it is nothing but a story, but I know it isn’t. Either way, the gods put a barrier on the shrine, essentially preventing anyone who was channeling their spirit to enter the shrine and desecrate it like the people of old. But!” he interjects, “it only accounts for spirits and channelers. It does nothing against bodily beings. Probably another trick, when one enters the realm and finds the artefact they are returned to where they came from and removed from the shrine.”

“So if what you say is true, that you aren’t a spirit or a spiritualist, then you should be able to enter the shrine and retrieve the artefact to get back home.”

He quickly grabs you once more and pulls you behind a church tower. You hadn’t noticed before but the wailing of spirits had returned, louder than before, and pinpricks of light emanated occasionally from their place. But it wasn’t the spirits the Hex Maniac was worried about. “Ignore them,” he’d say when asked about them, “they’re fools who made their mistake in the living world and are now paying for it. There’s nothing that can be done for them.” You peered around the tower and looked up ahead with the boy. A labyrinthine expanse of stone and walls, both broken and as part of withered cathedrals, were up ahead slanting downwards into a valley, providing you with a rough overview of its paths. At the far end, across the maze-like foundation, you saw the vague shapes of some colourful creatures – Pokémon in all likelihood, quite possibly the ones you were looking for. However, you also saw the slew of Grey Wardens between you and your target, swimming through the mass of corridors with near-dormant measure. Where at first you had lucked out on not coming across one for a while, the centre of the dilapidated city was swarming thick with them.

The Hex Maniac eyed them once more before looking upon you with question. “We need to get to the other side. Any ideas?” The first three options that would come to mind are simple, and your companion would say them out loud if you didn’t: fight through, sneak past, or go around. However, each provided quite a few drawbacks as even the Hex Maniac would tell you. Fighting was an option, as by now you denoted at least one Duskball hanging off of a metal chain below the Hex Maniac’s tattered cloak, but there was always the risk you’d alert the other wardens and be overcome by them. Sneaking would require stealth from you and your ally, and if you were caught even once while in the midst of the snake-pit, you might quickly find yourself ambushed. If you went around, you’d have to take a long and puzzling route with your companion, and ultimately might have you lose sight of the Pokémon. If you were going to the other side, you’d better come up with a plan for doing so, but perhaps you’ve thought of other options?

What do you do?

The Hotel

Last edited by Ex-Admiral Insane; 09-27-2017 at 05:12 PM.
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