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Old 04-25-2017, 06:03 PM   #26
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Marshal's Headquarters (Marshals): Situated in the relatively stable north, the headquarters of the police force is a large compound with tight security, home to the Goldenridge Marshals in their fight to restore the name of Goldenridge to bedlam. The force has recently started a campaign against the Shells and Ribs, seeking to push them out of the city once and for all, and are willing to accept mercenary support from trainers willing to help out in the fight. The reinforced location seems to be more attractive to pokemon who enjoy a sense of justice and honour. Reply in Silver.
It had been a long time since Duke engaged in in any sort of work, or heck, any sort of traveling all together. In truth, the past few years had been a tad tumultuous for the veteran dragon trainer, and in a way, he had been looking for an excuse to put his domestic life on hold and reignite his sense of purpose.

In an attempt to emulate the freshness of a new start, he left everyone behind, though, of course, that meant everyone but his dearest starting companion. How could he, anyways? The overly attached Seviper wouldn’t allow it even if he earnestly tried - which he didn’t - and Duke ultimately found it a pointless endeavor anyways. Besides, he would be needing her strength which he so devotedly nurtured. They weren’t really in for adventure on this particular journey, but rather, a mission. The rest of the gang he could trust to take good care of things back at home.

Goldenridge City had fallen hard as a result of turf wars and crime, and the Goldenridge Marshals have had to resort to mercenary aid in order to fuel their efforts of restoring order. Duke was no mercenary, and he hardly had interest in monetary compensation, nor did he have a particularly developed sense of justice, which he at least hoped was on par with that of the average, every-day man. What the Marshal’s plea represented to him in this case was an opportunity to grant him some focus; in other words, a distraction, if it is to be said in a blunt and simple manner, but Duke had always believed that, even if motivated by selfishness, there’s no motive unworthy enough when the end result is to do good for the people, and the cause itself was worthy of his attention. Chris on the other hand was just excited at the prospect of breaking backs and making thugs humble.

Stepping into the headquarters, Duke starts looking around in an attempt to locate the recruiting officer.

(Active party: Seviper)
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Old 04-26-2017, 01:24 PM   #27
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Ribcage Mall

Whimsy:


Perhaps thinking yourself cheeky, you try to talk yourself out of the volatile situation. Blue is unimpressed with you, but you’re a confident man, or -- at least -- you project that air. The redheaded man twirls his bat, and chuckles, slowly approaching you.

“Oh, don’t worry,” he promises, with a sinister air. “We’re gonna have fun, boy.”

“Let’s take him to Arturo!” One of the boys drinking beer suggests. He looks like he can’t be older than 17. His buddy whoops and chimes in with a slightly slurred, “Yeah! Arturo!”

“Arturo might be fun,” the redhead considers, thoughtfully. He jabs you in the chest with the end of his bat, solid wood striking your sternum somewhat roughly. “How about it? Want to go see Arturo?”

“Houston, wait,” the blue-haired girl with the knitting needle speaks up. She has a thick, slightly nasally urban accent characteristic to the city. She stands, and approaches you and the red-headed man, whose name is apparently Houston; when she gets close, you can see that she has platinum blonde roots. “You know, we could use extra hands for Mission Syd. Who knows what we’re going to run into out there. Why don’t we take this little cutie with us?”

She gives you a flirtatious wink. Houston rolls his eyes. He takes a moment to consider the options. He scrutinizes the blue haired girl with the knitting needles. He scrutinizes you. He glances around the room at his various comrades.

“Alright, Princess,” he finally sighs. The woman rocks joyously on her heels, as Houston turns his attentions to you. “Tell you what, you little shit. You come with us, and we don’t turn you in to Arturo. You refuse, and we haul you in and let him deal with you. What’s it going to be?





Shanty Heights


Kawaii:


Mathilda grinned as she stroked the Espeon’s head and large, fuzzy ears. She seemed utterly smitten with the creature, her face utterly lit up. Samantha, meanwhile, frowned as she listened to your introduction, smudged face contorted in distrust and displeasure.

“Like I hadn’t heard that before,” she accused. “The Shells come here all the time, pretending to be people who care, then the people they ‘save’ end up trafficked. Well, I’m not falling for it!”

You try to defend yourself, but you don’t have the opportunity. A distant scream echoes through the forum, from a couple of blocks away; when the three of you look up, you see smoke beginning to rise. Samantha curses under her breath.

“Another one,” she mutters. She pulls Mathilda away, heading down the street towards the source of the smoke. Being that you’re there to help -- and there appears to be a problem -- you follow after them. After a few minutes, you come upon a small house which has begun to be consumed by flames. A couple and their two children -- who you presume to be the owners -- are in tears outside while a group of men with a bucket train try in vain to quell the flames. One of them -- a young man with shaggy, wheat-colored hair -- seems to be familiar to Samantha, because she runs up to him, leaving Mathilda near you in her hurry.

“Jeremy!” She calls. “What happened?!”

“It’s another one, Sam,” the young man grunts, as he hoists another bucket to the man in front of him. “We think it’s the Ribs-”

“That’s my cousin, Jeremy,” Mathilda says, simply, as she watches the tragedy, having grown desensitized to the horror after so many. She moves to begin petting Freighya again. “He’s a Marshal. He used to work at the Headquarters, but he came back when the fires started.”

There seems to be a streak of arsons in the area, and the Ribs are to be involved. The Marshals have gotten involved. The locals are even more suspicious of people like you than you had initially thought. What will you do?




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Old 04-26-2017, 04:14 PM   #28
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The die has been cast. The path is set.

The Ribcage Mall.

134
: As the footsteps approached, your calculative mind is utterly overrun by your imagination and fear, taking the approaching figure as a monster hungry for you, and you opt to go after the object of your affection, barreling through the rain and scrambling up the rubble like a crazed beast, ignoring the minor scrapes and bumps incurred through your terror. Kakahai follows you up casually, as though attempting to remind you that you have a faithful companion at your side capable of blasting water at pressure, but alas you're too caught up in panic to listen. Making your way across the ledge, you find it to be surprisingly wide enough to comfortably shimmy by, before you're above the doorway. On the wall, there is an open ventilation duct roughly three feet by three feet, big enough to crawl through without much cramp, but before you can even think of it, you freeze in place as your ears pick up a rattle of chains. Had the Limberman found you!?

Several tense seconds later, you hear a male voice muttering about strong winds, before the footsteps begin to fade. You wait a moment or two, heart beating like a hummingbird's wings (whatever those were, some mutant Oricorio?) until all was quiet, before breathing a slight sigh of relief. While you were starting to get wet as the rain began to intensify, you were at least away from the monster, your Vaporeon nosing around the opening, when a distant streak flashes before your eyes, followed by a dull peal of thunder.

Kakahai can only dart into the shaft as you yelp and dive into the opening, fear taking you as the intelligent bit of your brain reminds you that the Pidove went in here for shelter too, and you begin to shuffle through the metallic duct. As you make your way, you find that you seem to be going up at an angle, your damp clothing making traction tricky but not impossible, and after a couple of minutes you find yourself on a straight, with a split in the duct. Neither option appeared conspicuous in any way, but a faint echo of a coo emanates around you, as the Pidove must have went further in. The question, though, is what direction it went in. Left, or right?


Crystal Grove.

Missingno. Master
: Literally stuck between a rock and a hard place, your quick consultation of your dex gives you much of the information vital, and with Salazar not going anywhere fast it is up to Meowth to deal with the shadowy owl. Quick out of the gate, the feline leaps into action, taking a breath and tapping into his icy energy reserves to exhale a windy blast towards the Decidueye, taking advantage of his technician skills to amplify the moderately strong technique's offensive force. The owl, spotting the incoming wind, opens its wings and begins to flap them to generate a wind of its own, amplified by the boosted special offensive. The ominous nature and greater force pushes through the Meowth's attack and residual winds buffet the cat and you, as you shiver at the fell breeze. Not to be outdone, Meowth begins to close the distance as your dex pings at you with some information. Checking it, you soon discover to your ill surprise the reason behind the noneffective move.

Glancing at the Arrow Quill, a sheen confirms all you need to know: your foe has gleaned a boost to all its stats, becoming more nimble and robust, while enhancing its natural strength. Despite this, the Scratch Cat begins to run circles around the bird, much like an ace pilot before taking the opportunity to strike, leaping over its back and delivering an aerial slice down the front, the boosted super effective move causing the avian to hoot in pain. Landing before it, Meowth turns around to find a sweeping leg kick out at his gut, the Decidueye's leer making it quite clear it was both impressed and not taking chances. Thrusting forward, Meowth is sent tumbling at a low angle, taking an equally mighty super effective blow, but is quick to recover.

As Meowth hears your next command, he begins to channel most of his electrical stores between his paws, preparing to launch the energy like a cannon towards the avian, hoping to zap it into paralysis, before you begin to question why it is simply standing there, watching, as though waiting for an opportunity to open itself...until your brain reminds you of the dex entry concerning its speed and precision and realise with a startle the dark energy swirling in its wing. You call to Meowth to stop, but it's too late.

As the normal type begins to thrust forward to launch his zap cannon, the Decidueye takes two rapid steps forward, bringing one wing up to the leafy cord attached to the hood and bringing it up, while the darkened wing grabs it, before firing an arrow forward steeped in the energy as you realise Meowth's been taken for a sucker. The arrow strikes the orb just as Meowth releases it, punching straight through and detonating the cannoncall in Meowth's face as the dart bursts apart against his chest, the feline's wail of surprise and pain evident. What's more, given the nature of the attack you feel the Decidueye should take some of the electrical damage given the contact nature of sucker punch, yet as the sparks dance around him, you find Meowth's the one paralyzed. Scanning the bird, you discover that it has a rather long reach.

Gasping, Meowth struggles to his feet, having taken considerable damage from the boosted dark move and having his move blow up in his face, while the owl steps closer, fifteen feet from you and begins to hoot something, which Meowth translates for you.

'Surrender, black scarab.'

You're in a bit of a pickle, with Meowth still willing to fight despite his state, though Salazar nudges you to something down the street approaching, though who or what it is remains a mystery to you. Another hoot from your surprisingly talented foe, as though expecting a response, as you begin to realise there may be a case of mistaken identity here...
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Old 04-26-2017, 05:34 PM   #29
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BEDLAM RIDGE
The Temporary City Zone
The Bastion of Vacuous Dreams (Neutral): The centrepiece of the city located fittingly in the middle, the Bastion of Dreams was the main government building, stretching into the skies, and where the Goldenridge Council met their bloody end. The enormous structure yet stands, but no side dares to contest for the obvious vantage for fear of what lies within. Legends state that the building was constructed above and around a shrine to a creature of unknown origin said to sway the minds of those who happened upon it. As a result, it is largely abandoned, and many of the valuable documents within are up for grabs, though rumours have it that the final survivor of the council resides within, watching the world crumble around her, with an enigmatic force keeping her safe. Even the deities know not what pokemon are brave enough to reside within, but one thing is certain: those who have ventured in...have never emerged again. Reply in Dark Green.
OoC:Time for some ambience, eh?

"No, absolutely not. Not with the Mistress in the current state she is in. In no way are you storming a mansion by yourself with nothing but your gun for protection." A loud voice rang over the cellphone that Lillian had precariously perched next to her ear. She herself was going over her supplies: gauze, peroxide, various minor painkillers, and ammunition. All things she was going to need if she was going to make the trek into the Bastion, looking for clues. "Are you listening to me Lillian? What in the world is possessing you to wandering around Bedlam in its current state?" Lillian paused, adjusting the phone slightly so that she could talk into it easier. "You hadn't heard? They said that the Goldenridge council was viciously murdered her. Except for one. I can't imagine how they must feel, isolated and potentially even hurt. So I'm going to save them." Lillian spoke calmly into the phone, but that only seemed to inflamed the voice on the other end. "I have no idea what Remi sees in you. I think since you were miraculously revived you've somehow gotten even dumber than before." Vitriol poured out of the phone, but Lillian didn't seem very perturbed by it.

"Quiet, Morgana. Besides, I had been told that Remilia was recovering quite well. She doesn't need my help at any rate. I figured in a mansion this old there might be some kind of priceless relic to pilfer. That's the theme of these kind of places right?" If Morgana was alone, she would have started screaming at Lillian from the other end of the phone. Or just screamed. "Only if its a _very_ priceless relic and _only_ if you're intending to give it to Remilia after. There better be something in it for her while you're off putting yourself at risk." The phone hung up then, Lillian remarking on what a hot-headed individual Morgana was. Even for a Luxio. She put the phone in one of her bags, pulling out the gun and inspecting it, making sure everything seemed in working order. Bullets in the chamber, cocked easily. Lillian nodded, taking the gun in her right hand, before walking up closer to the Mansion.

"Surely other people have come in for their own vices. I wonder where they are." Lillian looked at the ground, but there was no signs of any footprints in the path. "Either they all left a while ago or they're all dead. How troubling." She walked up to the front door, wondering if she should find a different way inside. She decided against it though. Better to take the path one knows is open than search for the path that could be closed. There probably wasn't any stock to the rumors anyways. Lillian opened the door, and took a step forward before chuckling.

"That said, it would be a horrible night for a curse."

Last edited by Emi; 04-26-2017 at 07:46 PM.
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Old 04-26-2017, 05:38 PM   #30
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Crystal Grove.

Missingno. Master
: Literally stuck between a rock and a hard place, your quick consultation of your dex gives you much of the information vital, and with Salazar not going anywhere fast it is up to Meowth to deal with the shadowy owl. Quick out of the gate, the feline leaps into action, taking a breath and tapping into his icy energy reserves to exhale a windy blast towards the Decidueye, taking advantage of his technician skills to amplify the moderately strong technique's offensive force. The owl, spotting the incoming wind, opens its wings and begins to flap them to generate a wind of its own, amplified by the boosted special offensive. The ominous nature and greater force pushes through the Meowth's attack and residual winds buffet the cat and you, as you shiver at the fell breeze. Not to be outdone, Meowth begins to close the distance as your dex pings at you with some information. Checking it, you soon discover to your ill surprise the reason behind the noneffective move.

Glancing at the Arrow Quill, a sheen confirms all you need to know: your foe has gleaned a boost to all its stats, becoming more nimble and robust, while enhancing its natural strength. Despite this, the Scratch Cat begins to run circles around the bird, much like an ace pilot before taking the opportunity to strike, leaping over its back and delivering an aerial slice down the front, the boosted super effective move causing the avian to hoot in pain. Landing before it, Meowth turns around to find a sweeping leg kick out at his gut, the Decidueye's leer making it quite clear it was both impressed and not taking chances. Thrusting forward, Meowth is sent tumbling at a low angle, taking an equally mighty super effective blow, but is quick to recover.

As Meowth hears your next command, he begins to channel most of his electrical stores between his paws, preparing to launch the energy like a cannon towards the avian, hoping to zap it into paralysis, before you begin to question why it is simply standing there, watching, as though waiting for an opportunity to open itself...until your brain reminds you of the dex entry concerning its speed and precision and realise with a startle the dark energy swirling in its wing. You call to Meowth to stop, but it's too late.

As the normal type begins to thrust forward to launch his zap cannon, the Decidueye takes two rapid steps forward, bringing one wing up to the leafy cord attached to the hood and bringing it up, while the darkened wing grabs it, before firing an arrow forward steeped in the energy as you realise Meowth's been taken for a sucker. The arrow strikes the orb just as Meowth releases it, punching straight through and detonating the cannoncall in Meowth's face as the dart bursts apart against his chest, the feline's wail of surprise and pain evident. What's more, given the nature of the attack you feel the Decidueye should take some of the electrical damage given the contact nature of sucker punch, yet as the sparks dance around him, you find Meowth's the one paralyzed. Scanning the bird, you discover that it has a rather long reach.

Gasping, Meowth struggles to his feet, having taken considerable damage from the boosted dark move and having his move blow up in his face, while the owl steps closer, fifteen feet from you and begins to hoot something, which Meowth translates for you.

'Surrender, black scarab.'

You're in a bit of a pickle, with Meowth still willing to fight despite his state, though Salazar nudges you to something down the street approaching, though who or what it is remains a mystery to you. Another hoot from your surprisingly talented foe, as though expecting a response, as you begin to realise there may be a case of mistaken identity here...
Despite the fact that Meowth was immune to Decidueye's Ghost moves, the battle started to go very badly very quickly. Icy Wind was countered by Ominous Wind. The move didn't harm Meowth any, but that didn't give Keith much peace of mind, for a glance at his Pokédex confirmed the worst.

"Oh, crap," groaned Keith. "The Ominous Wind's side effect kicked in, Meowth!" he warned the Normal-type.

"Well, dat ain't good!" Meowth exclaimed. "I don't tink Icy Wind did a damn ting to it, either!"

"Gah... Alright, just use Aerial Ace, then," said Keith.

"Right!" Meowth nodded. He went in at great speeds, landing the super effective Flying move. Keith grinned at this... until Decidueye fought back, with a devastating Leer/Low Sweep combo that hit Meowth for massive damage.

"Meowth!" Keith exclaimed. "You OK?"

"Gah... Yeah, I'm good!" Meowth reported- he was quick to recover.

Keith nodded, relieved that Meowth was OK. "All right! Zap Cannon, let's go!" he ordered.

For a moment, Meowth looked as though he was going to launch this next move without any issues. It was perfect... almost too perfect. Indeed, at the critical moment, Decidueye made its move, landing a direct hit with Sucker Punch, and blowing up the Zap Cannon in Meowth's face. What was more, despite having to make contact with the Zap Cannon in order to do this, it was Meowth who was paralyzed, not Decidueye. "What?!" Keith exclaimed in disbelief. Desperate for an answer, he consulted his Pokédex.

"Decidueye's Ability- Long Reach," droned the device. "Decidueye's attacks do not require it to make physical contact."

Decidueye hooted something as Meowth climbed to his feet. "Gah..." Meowth grunted. "Decidueye's sayin', 'surrender, black scarab'. Watever dat means..."

"Who or what is the black scarab?!" Keith exclaimed. It seemed as though more and more questions were piling up. Why was this Decidueye so mercilessly going after him? Who was the black scarab? And why was Salazar nudging Keith? That last question, at the very least, Keith got the answer to by looking in the direction Salazar was indicating. Someone or something was approaching from down the street. Whether friend or foe, or indeed, human or Pokémon, was unclear at the moment. "And who the..." Keith murmured, thinking furiously... did this Decidueye mistake him for someone else? It had to be- he wasn't known as the black scarab, at least as far as he knew. In fact, come to think of it, considering Salazar's coloration and species... could this black scarab be some sort of bad guy who rides a similarly-colored Scolipede? Well, then. That would certainly explain the decidedly frosty welcome they got, too, come to think of it. Just how the hell was Keith supposed to clear his name, then, if indeed this was the case?

"Look, Decidueye," Keith said, deciding on the spot to try and reason with the Grass/Ghost-type. "I don't know who this black scarab guy you're after is, but all I can say is that it's not me!"

"He's tellin' da truth!" added Meowth. "Dis guy's as good a guy as dey come! He's da guy wat dat killed da tyrant Heatran in da heart o' Mt. Aduro! Ya had to have heard o' dat, right?" Meowth desperately hoped that Decidueye would listen to reason, or at the very least, would stop attacking. If it came right down to it, Meowth was prepared to fight back with a Punishment attack, but that was only if Decidueye tried to attack again- if the Arrow Quill Pokémon was more inclined to hear them out, then no attacks were gonna be fired.

Salazar, meanwhile, kept his red eyes focused on whoever or whatever was approaching. Immobile though he currently was, he still prepared to Protect himself and his Trainer should the need arise.
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Old 04-27-2017, 12:27 AM   #31
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Shanty Heights


Kawaii:


Mathilda grinned as she stroked the Espeon’s head and large, fuzzy ears. She seemed utterly smitten with the creature, her face utterly lit up. Samantha, meanwhile, frowned as she listened to your introduction, smudged face contorted in distrust and displeasure.

“Like I hadn’t heard that before,” she accused. “The Shells come here all the time, pretending to be people who care, then the people they ‘save’ end up trafficked. Well, I’m not falling for it!”

You try to defend yourself, but you don’t have the opportunity. A distant scream echoes through the forum, from a couple of blocks away; when the three of you look up, you see smoke beginning to rise. Samantha curses under her breath.

“Another one,” she mutters. She pulls Mathilda away, heading down the street towards the source of the smoke. Being that you’re there to help -- and there appears to be a problem -- you follow after them. After a few minutes, you come upon a small house which has begun to be consumed by flames. A couple and their two children -- who you presume to be the owners -- are in tears outside while a group of men with a bucket train try in vain to quell the flames. One of them -- a young man with shaggy, wheat-colored hair -- seems to be familiar to Samantha, because she runs up to him, leaving Mathilda near you in her hurry.

“Jeremy!” She calls. “What happened?!”

“It’s another one, Sam,” the young man grunts, as he hoists another bucket to the man in front of him. “We think it’s the Ribs-”

“That’s my cousin, Jeremy,” Mathilda says, simply, as she watches the tragedy, having grown desensitized to the horror after so many. She moves to begin petting Freighya again. “He’s a Marshal. He used to work at the Headquarters, but he came back when the fires started.”

There seems to be a streak of arsons in the area, and the Ribs are to be involved. The Marshals have gotten involved. The locals are even more suspicious of people like you than you had initially thought. What will you do?





As Kawaii surveyed the scene one thing was imeadiatly clear, she had to help. The pink-haired trainer reached for her pokeballs attached to her waist and tossed two into the air "Becky, Paleon come help quell this flame!" As the Lotad and Shelder appeared kawaii and Frieghya rushed forward. The Shellder fired a water gun at the blaze while the Lotad let out a bubble beam. Meanwhile Kawaii looked for a bucket to help quell the blaze, Frieghya sent calming vibrations to all the victims, while Cerno waited for an opurtunity to reveal itself.
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Old 04-28-2017, 02:05 PM   #32
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The Ribcage Mall.

134
: As the footsteps approached, your calculative mind is utterly overrun by your imagination and fear, taking the approaching figure as a monster hungry for you, and you opt to go after the object of your affection, barreling through the rain and scrambling up the rubble like a crazed beast, ignoring the minor scrapes and bumps incurred through your terror. Kakahai follows you up casually, as though attempting to remind you that you have a faithful companion at your side capable of blasting water at pressure, but alas you're too caught up in panic to listen. Making your way across the ledge, you find it to be surprisingly wide enough to comfortably shimmy by, before you're above the doorway. On the wall, there is an open ventilation duct roughly three feet by three feet, big enough to crawl through without much cramp, but before you can even think of it, you freeze in place as your ears pick up a rattle of chains. Had the Limberman found you!?

Several tense seconds later, you hear a male voice muttering about strong winds, before the footsteps begin to fade. You wait a moment or two, heart beating like a hummingbird's wings (whatever those were, some mutant Oricorio?) until all was quiet, before breathing a slight sigh of relief. While you were starting to get wet as the rain began to intensify, you were at least away from the monster, your Vaporeon nosing around the opening, when a distant streak flashes before your eyes, followed by a dull peal of thunder.

Kakahai can only dart into the shaft as you yelp and dive into the opening, fear taking you as the intelligent bit of your brain reminds you that the Pidove went in here for shelter too, and you begin to shuffle through the metallic duct. As you make your way, you find that you seem to be going up at an angle, your damp clothing making traction tricky but not impossible, and after a couple of minutes you find yourself on a straight, with a split in the duct. Neither option appeared conspicuous in any way, but a faint echo of a coo emanates around you, as the Pidove must have went further in. The question, though, is what direction it went in. Left, or right?
"I'm getting too old for this," Tate panted, as the pair crested the ledge. On the other side of 25, the 'young' scientist didn't bounce as well as one might in one's youth. Slightly achy, Tate shimmied on stomach and elbows down the length of the ledge; it was hard, but only in the sense that Tate lacked some of the necessary upper body strength. Once over the door, the bird watcher finds an open duct -- the Pidove must have gone in here, Tate figured. There's no time to consider following it, however, as the door below rattled and shakes, chains clanging loudly. Tate doesn't breathe, certain the Limberman is upon them. A man speaks, muttering about winds, and returns inside to the relative warmth. Pull yourself together, Tate reprimands, inwardly. There's no such thing as Limberman!

A flash. A crack. There sure as shit was such a thing as lightning. Kahakai streaks into the vent, having a phobia of electricity, and Tate follows quickly after her. For a while, both of them crawl along at a slight ascension, occasionally squeaking and sliding as the water does what it can to impede progress. Kahakai has far less trouble, absorbing each drop of water she comes into contact with into the greater whole of her body.Tate wished for such a power; the wet clothes were starting to produce a chill.

Eventually, they reach a straight, but after a few feet, it forks. Tate groans. The gentle, melodic coo of a bird bounces off of the aluminum walls of the duct, and the bird keeper tries valiantly to deduce from which side --left or right -- it originates from, but it's simply no use; the cry echoes in all directions. Tate sighs.

"Now what?" Grunts the trainer. Kahakai sits at the fork, and begins grooming, pondering the question; it doesn't look like she'll find any answers, anytime soon. "Come on," Tate grunts and nudges her into the leftmost duct, beginning to grow claustrophobic. The Vaporeon makes an undignified noise of protest, but begins walking, while her trainer shimmies after her. Why left, you might ask? Because Tate's left handed.

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Old 04-28-2017, 04:51 PM   #33
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Where were you when you heard that the city was in anarchy? That's a question Jade never expected to hear or ask. Bedlam Ridge was a pitstop in her journey, as far as she was concerned. While the city was booming, and the gold jewelry was stunning in every local shop, Jade didn't have the money to live here. Besides that, she didn't trust Maxwell to not lead her Pokemon into trouble in the bustling streets, ripe for petty thieving. Maybe that would be good for her little family, though. Cities were bound to have more adventure than the small towns she had been passing through, and her art would probably sell better in the city.

Bedlam Ridge couldn't hold those dreams any more. This place was too broken for her to imagine a future in it. She was in Shanty Heights, visiting a poor family she had met the day before; a middle aged couple with a daughter. Jade was in the small apartment, a cup of tea in her hand and talking to the couple about being a Pokemon trainer while Alice and Euen played on the floor with the kid. The TV, playing some talk show at low volume, sputtered out a message for the city from the Goldenridge Marshals to stay indoors. Jade stood up immediately, as the couple watched the TV in shock as it relayed the death of the council members and the disappearances of the other two. Euen rolled to Jade as Alice looked up, confused and nervous.

"C'mon you two. We've got some heroics to do, alright?" Jade said, lifting two Pokeballs from her bag. She committed herself to find the other two council members; maybe she wasn't the best for the job, but her team was crafty. She never thought they would reveal themselves, especially those guilty of murder. While she wouldn't take the side of either gang causing chaos in the city, the Shells were the enemy and von Argentus holding power was the worst thing she could imagine.

While Jade wasn't the type to go after the head of the hydra, she had to do something. Her time since the chaos started has been spent in Shanty Heights with her team, escorting refugees out of the city and listening for rumors to pass on to the marshals. At some point, Max had snuck out and stolen a pamphlet from the Lietuenant and, while Jade never had a meeting, she considered herself strongly allied with the marshals.

Today, she was sneaking into another apartment building to look for refugees or lost Pokemon belonging to trainers. Maxwell followed behind in a black hoodie Jade kept in her bag for him; something about his bright orange coat wasn't conductive to stealth. She hadn't heard gunfire for a while as she sat behind a dumpster around the back of the building, waiting for a good chance to come around and sprint into the building.
Broken glass, shattered dreams – Shanty Heights was littered with the refuse of its former glory, and perhaps there was some irony here that Jade, who shared a name with a rare and precious stone, found herself currently behind a dumpster bin. Accompanied by the hoodie-clad Maxwell, whose practical choice of fashion keeps his bright orange fur from standing out, the pair had decided to scope out an apartment building in search of refugees to escort out of the city. The gunfire had ceased, at least for the moment, and though a reprieve from that horrific sound was always welcomed, the silence had grown uneasy. As Jade waits for the perfect opportunity to dart through the front door and properly begin her search, strange noises begin to emanate from behind the entrance, growing louder and louder, until the door bursts open, revealing two muscular, tattooed figures with sawed-off pistol-grip shotguns in their hands. Though the Shells had not been in formation long enough to have uniforms per se, Jade has been in the area long enough to know that the rough street attire the two wear would certainly put them right at home in their camp. Most unusual about their appearance, however, are the large, painful-looking welts all over their bodies...

“NOT THE COMBEES! NOT THE COMBEEEEES” one of them screeches through her over-exerted panting, as she runs for her life.

“SHUT UP AND RUN,” the other barks. Fortunately, the path of their escape leads these goons in the opposite direction of the dumpster behind which Jade crouches. It seems, however, that the shouting of these two thugs is not the only source of sound, as a vicious buzzing noise fills the apartment entrance, as at least a dozen male Combees form a defensive formation around the door. Behind the formation of Combees, a barefoot young man in tattered clothes staggers forward, his arms crossed over his chest. “That's right -” he attempts to begin a taunt in the direction of the tattooed figures, before stumbling a bit, wincing in pain. Immediately, the bees turn around, and though Jade may not understand the language which these bees speak, the formerly threatening nature of their buzz has changed dramatically in nature – something about the soft, trembling nature of the hum indicates a shared sense of worry. The young man shakes his head, attempting to stand tall, though it soon becomes clear by the blood trickling down his left side that his crossed arms are hiding a significant injury.

“Go check on the others,” he orders, and all but one of the bug Pokemon present comply immediately, flying back inside. One, however, remains, flying close to the trainer in inspection, its three pairs of eyes all focused on the blood, looking on with concern.

“That was an order, Florian,” the man growls. “What would Abella say if she saw you disobeying?”

The bee stops a moment to consider... and then begins gently flying into the man's left arm, poking it perhaps as a request for it to lift so that the Pokemon may inspect the injury. The young man lowers his head. “Stubborn little brat,” he mutters, but the words are muttered so softly, and with such regret and sadness, that it would be difficult to construe his utterance as intended to insult.

A strange scene, indeed. How will Jade and Maxwell respond?
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Old 04-28-2017, 05:15 PM   #34
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Ribcage Mall

Whimsy:


Perhaps thinking yourself cheeky, you try to talk yourself out of the volatile situation. Blue is unimpressed with you, but you’re a confident man, or -- at least -- you project that air. The redheaded man twirls his bat, and chuckles, slowly approaching you.

“Oh, don’t worry,” he promises, with a sinister air. “We’re gonna have fun, boy.”

“Let’s take him to Arturo!” One of the boys drinking beer suggests. He looks like he can’t be older than 17. His buddy whoops and chimes in with a slightly slurred, “Yeah! Arturo!”

“Arturo might be fun,” the redhead considers, thoughtfully. He jabs you in the chest with the end of his bat, solid wood striking your sternum somewhat roughly. “How about it? Want to go see Arturo?”

“Houston, wait,” the blue-haired girl with the knitting needle speaks up. She has a thick, slightly nasally urban accent characteristic to the city. She stands, and approaches you and the red-headed man, whose name is apparently Houston; when she gets close, you can see that she has platinum blonde roots. “You know, we could use extra hands for Mission Syd. Who knows what we’re going to run into out there. Why don’t we take this little cutie with us?”

She gives you a flirtatious wink. Houston rolls his eyes. He takes a moment to consider the options. He scrutinizes the blue haired girl with the knitting needles. He scrutinizes you. He glances around the room at his various comrades.

“Alright, Princess,” he finally sighs. The woman rocks joyously on her heels, as Houston turns his attentions to you. “Tell you what, you little shit. You come with us, and we don’t turn you in to Arturo. You refuse, and we haul you in and let him deal with you. What’s it going to be?



The hostility in the air was palpable - not that Michael noticed. The warning signs were there of course: the sinister growl in the redhaired man's voice, the way he casually twirled that bat of his, and the unanimous decision to throw him to someone named "Arturo" - all of them should have added up to a lifetime trip to that infamous aquatic hotel in the mind of a normal person. Unfortunately, Michael didn't do maths. In his opinion, he was fine!
The blow to his sternum knocked all of the wind out of him though - literally and figuratively. He grunted in pain, grasping his chest with his hand. Blue gave the red-haired man a warning growl that was uncharacteristic for the normally docile Panpour, but was silenced by a quiet reassurance from his trainer that he wasn't that hurt. Luckily for the duo, the blue haired girl he'd addressed earlier came to their... well not rescue, but it was something that was similar enough that for all intents and purposes could be called as such by giving him a way out.
"You know, I think we'd be glad to help you with this "MIssion Syd" thing you got going on." Michael hurriedly answered, not wanting to give the volatile gang members surrounding him the chance to change their mind. "What's it all about?"
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Old 04-28-2017, 05:36 PM   #35
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Lost lambs, poor lambs, caught between the black sheep's fangs.

With the recent lift on members I'd like to welcome Marion Ette, Gemini Spark and Sparkbeat, on top of MM and Tate's updates. So with all said and done, here we go.

The Ribcage Mall.

134
: After a period of consideration, you decide to follow your handedness and head to the left, after nudging Kakahai in the same direction to the protest of the Vaporeon. As you clamber through the metal, your mind begins to wander on the building and those within. Were the ones who created the marks petty thieves who would run at the sight of a big, mean pokemon? Were you wandering into a horrible cult who would cut the hearts out of those they captured? Was it you, or did you make a horrible mistake? You put these thoughts aside as they do nothing for your claustrophobia, preferring wide open spaces...

You inwardly groan, however, as you discover after the second right turn that the split in the duct was meaningless, as past the turn to the left at the end of the duct was a corner going right. The coo of the Pidove however drives your push as you and your starter head towards the sound, crawling through the ducts until you and Kakahai find yourselves outside the duct, the cooes of the Pidove barely audible over a cacophony of other noises. Climbing to your feet, you realise that you're actually in the mall itself proper, on a balcony section on the first floor above the ground floor.

Peering over the edge, you are taken aback slightly by the number of people in casual attire, with around thirty or so in the area you're in. Some of them are chatting, some are sparring with their pokemon, some are sparring with their own fists, and others are playing around on what appear to be arcade machines hauled from somewhere. One or two of the people around the place look in your direction and you physically freeze as they spot you, though fortunately they don't react in any way, as though you were just another member of their group, not even giving a wave or anything.

Having dodged a potential bullet or fifty, you step back and take a breath, before Kakahai gives you yet another whack for attention, and as you follow her gaze, you spot that familiar Pidove standing on a railing, thousand yard stare and coo once again grabbing your heartstrings. The bird is not overly far, and despite some weathering the pathway there seems sturdy. There is the concern of the fact that someone at least knows you're around, and there's no telling whether or not they will act in any way. What you do know is that the object of your affection is only thirty or so steps away. What's your plan?


Crystal Grove.

Missingno. Master
: Your situation was dire to say the least, as the mysterious avian had you all but cornered yet willing to give you a chance to surrender. On your blatant surprise and exclamation, the bird's eyes narrow slightly, as though it seems adamant on the decision, yet willing for the time being to listen to reason. As you make your truthful statement of innocence, the owl appears to scoff before motioning towards the great big grey insect behind you, then towards you, insinuating that the presence of the Scolipede is evidence enough.

When Meowth opens his mouth to give his view, including your greatest personal feat, the Decidueye is startled slightly, not expecting a mere Meowth to speak the human language, but quickly regains its composure, tilting its head as you consider the possibility that your actions on Aduro hadn't reached Bedlam City due to, well, the bedlam. With a steady gaze, the owl stares hard into your eyes, trying to read you, when Salazar gives you another nudge, the figures having came closer, as you can begin to identify them.

One of them, a small spiny creature with a thickened shell holding some sort of plate immediately hits you in the emotional pangs, the Chespin scampering and barking at the Alolan pokemon. The other is a man of roughly your age, with a chin sporting signs of a recent shave and wearing blue denims and a dark green trenchcoat over a button shirt. The prominent feature, however, is the bowler hat with an orb inset that you immediately recognise as a key stone.

"What've we got here, Hawkeye?" he begins, addressing the Decidueye who begins conversing with the Chespin, relaying what's been told as the starter taps and scratches at the plate before hopping back to the man and showing him the plate. After a few tense seconds, he looks at you and your group, specifically the Scolipede, before taking a couple steps closer.

"You there, with the talking cat..." he begins, before the Chespin heads over to Salazar, the insect taking a more protective stance. As it begins to chitter, Meowth relays the spiny pokemon wants to make sure that he isn't stained, before the Spiky Nut pokemon gives him a soft scratch, not enough to hurt by any standards, but enough to mark the Megapede's hide, before examining its finger. Raising its eyebrows, it takes the plate - which you now realise is a tablet device - and surprises you by poking at it before showing the device, as the man advises you to answer honestly.

The device reads, in perfect english: "Where did this Scolipede get its colouration, and could you give us your name?"

The Decidueye continues its stand-off, though it has lowered its wings, no longer in a threatening position. It seems that Arceus Himself has given you a way out of this situation, it is merely a case of whether you're willing to discuss the situation with a stranger and what seems to be his pokemon.


Crimson Sanctum.

Gemini Spark
: Many had entered the once proud Goldenridge City, but few of these were ever pokemon in the guise of humans, but you were one of these. Having heard on the grapevine of the rise of the Shells in Bedlam Ridge and their connection to the source of your deepest grudges, you find yourself assuming the form of your once mortal body, completely inconspicuous to many people, with the single minded aim of vengeance. However, you weren't so foolish as to travel to their headquarters alone, as the presence of the Scizor by your side made it clear, a pokemon you personally had familiarity with before your untimely demise.

Having reached the Crimson Sanctum, you are quickly notified of why the Shells chose this particular location. The stunning architecture and imposing outline of the cathedral district made the location both awe inspiring and fear inducing, and with your Banette roots, you can practically taste the emotion and effort that went into constructing the building, every part of it to your liking. However, you weren't here for the buffet. Looking around, you can tell security in the place is extremely tight.

At the main entrance, six Shells stand, with their own vicious looking pokemon. On the roof, you can spot more Shells and their pokemon, Crobat circling the building silently, the presence truly putting the fort into fortification. Taking a moment or two to assess the situation, Chex gives a clack of the claws before motioning you to a shadowy figure standing just out of sight of the group. You are aware that the Shells are recruiting, and your way into the complex could be through there if your honour was that easily lain aside, but perhaps the figure, who beckoned at you with a finger, knew of a more covert entrance.

What will you do?


The Bastion of Vacuous Dreams.

Marion Ette
: Few people would be mad enough to approach the colossal centrepiece of the city in this day and age, unless they were either completely despondent, greedier than a Swalot or outright insane. You were none of these, though some would argue that the third fitted your stature, a small girl with an elusive history. You were brought before the bastion not out of greed, but interest, a small kitten under the titanic foot of curiosity. You had no intention of being killed, however, and the very thought of it makes you giggle as you stand before the ominous building.

You were no fool, however. Having studied up beforehand, you know the council had perished within and none who entered were seen again, and that this meant barreling headfirst through the front door was a very stupid thing to do. Looking around, your first notice on the building was that it seemed to emanate an aura of unease, as though it was trying to dissuade others from entering. The second notice is that of a number of openings here and there that your small frame could squeeze through. To your left, a vast crack in a wall, zigzagging up into a hole you could probably climb and enter, through use of the crack as a ladder. To the right, a hole that led underneath the southern flank of the building, presumably to the depths of the bastion.

There was also another entrace aside from the main, a damaged window that seemed to flicker slightly from the light of day, located not too far from the front door. Gazing upon it, you have the feeling of something unusual and unnerving, yet similarly exciting, your heart beating. Fate had given you several options, it was just a matter of which poison you fancied drinking this day.

Sparkbeat: War. War never changes. Even in the earliest days, people waged war against one another for any number of reasons. You were not here for the interests of battling factions, however. After months of inaction, you longed for adventure, and on receiving one of many leaflets, your mind was set on the enormous spire which stood before you now. Under cover of silence you and your Murkrow made your way through the ravaged streets to the bastion, a tale of destruction and deceit tainting the history of said structure irreversibly.

Perhaps it was foolhardy for you to approach the structure, but you cared not, taking the nothern approach to the magnificent building, carefully manoeuvring around the marble to a set of relatively intact mahogany doors that had to be the size of Groudon, each. The massive lumber blockades before you only made your heart beat, as you take a hold of the handles, push down and begin to pull with your might, the dull creak making Chord quietly screech indignantly, not enjoying the presence here. Whatever brought you to the single place not even the Ribs and Shells wanted near, it lay within the stronghold and heart of the city.

Squeezing through the door, you take a few steps in before a very loud thud behind you tells you the doors have closed, the Murkrow squawking in protest. Hushing the bird, you find you're in some sort of foyer, with a door to the left in the unsettling gloom. The right hand side consists of a wall, while ahead you can see a great hall, though not much more within due to the chilling fog that seems to have set in. A small giggle reaches your ears, or rather an echo of one, though where is beyond your knowledge.

You're pretty much stuck here now, but you certainly have two potential options, those being the door to the left or the hallway. As Chord lands upon your shoulder, seeking a little rest, your call for adventure has certainly been answered.
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Old 04-28-2017, 06:34 PM   #36
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Crystal Grove.

Missingno. Master
: Your situation was dire to say the least, as the mysterious avian had you all but cornered yet willing to give you a chance to surrender. On your blatant surprise and exclamation, the bird's eyes narrow slightly, as though it seems adamant on the decision, yet willing for the time being to listen to reason. As you make your truthful statement of innocence, the owl appears to scoff before motioning towards the great big grey insect behind you, then towards you, insinuating that the presence of the Scolipede is evidence enough.

When Meowth opens his mouth to give his view, including your greatest personal feat, the Decidueye is startled slightly, not expecting a mere Meowth to speak the human language, but quickly regains its composure, tilting its head as you consider the possibility that your actions on Aduro hadn't reached Bedlam City due to, well, the bedlam. With a steady gaze, the owl stares hard into your eyes, trying to read you, when Salazar gives you another nudge, the figures having came closer, as you can begin to identify them.

One of them, a small spiny creature with a thickened shell holding some sort of plate immediately hits you in the emotional pangs, the Chespin scampering and barking at the Alolan pokemon. The other is a man of roughly your age, with a chin sporting signs of a recent shave and wearing blue denims and a dark green trenchcoat over a button shirt. The prominent feature, however, is the bowler hat with an orb inset that you immediately recognise as a key stone.

"What've we got here, Hawkeye?" he begins, addressing the Decidueye who begins conversing with the Chespin, relaying what's been told as the starter taps and scratches at the plate before hopping back to the man and showing him the plate. After a few tense seconds, he looks at you and your group, specifically the Scolipede, before taking a couple steps closer.

"You there, with the talking cat..." he begins, before the Chespin heads over to Salazar, the insect taking a more protective stance. As it begins to chitter, Meowth relays the spiny pokemon wants to make sure that he isn't stained, before the Spiky Nut pokemon gives him a soft scratch, not enough to hurt by any standards, but enough to mark the Megapede's hide, before examining its finger. Raising its eyebrows, it takes the plate - which you now realise is a tablet device - and surprises you by poking at it before showing the device, as the man advises you to answer honestly.

The device reads, in perfect english: "Where did this Scolipede get its colouration, and could you give us your name?"

The Decidueye continues its stand-off, though it has lowered its wings, no longer in a threatening position. It seems that Arceus Himself has given you a way out of this situation, it is merely a case of whether you're willing to discuss the situation with a stranger and what seems to be his pokemon.
Things were looking rather grim as Keith and Meowth attempted to talk their way out of whatever trouble they managed to get mixed up in this time. Thankfully, Decidueye displayed a willingness to at least hear them out. Not so thankfully, however, Decidueye seemed to seriously doubt Keith's words, despite their truthful nature. And as Keith had started to suspect, the fact that the Grass/Ghost-type had gestured to Salazar seemed to confirm that it was Salazar's coloration making him suspicious. Meowth's explanation about Keith did not seem to faze Decidueye yet. Keith's heart sank- in honor of his Heatmor's namesake, he'd done his best to ensure the story got heard far and wide, but was it possible that not everyone had heard about this? Not that Keith was bothered by such a notion in general- he didn't exactly thrive on being called a hero or anything like that, but even so, he couldn't deny that this sort of thing would certainly come in handy here! Keith met Decidueye's gaze unflinchingly, silently hoping and praying that the Arrow Quill Pokémon was exceptionally good at reading people.

Alas, he was rather forced to turn away, for Salazar had nudged him once more- Keith turned, and saw the approaching figures. One of them was a person. The other, a Pokémon that, upon Keith spotting it, triggered something of an emotional memory for him. It was his first time seeing a Chespin in person, but the doll he'd gotten many Valentine's Days ago was lovingly crafted to resemble one, given to Keith in the hopes that he would someday get to catch one of his own. Even if that hadn't happened yet, it was still Keith's most prized possession as far as he was concerned.

Though it was simply held in Keith's hand, not being held up or pointed at anything, the Pokédex reacted to the approaching Chespin nonetheless. "Chespin, the Spiny Nut Pokémon. A Grass-type. The thick shell of wood covering its head and back is so protective that being hit by a truck would not faze it. Normally soft, the pointy quills on its head become hard and sharp enough to pierce rock."

The Chespin seemed to be holding some sort of tablet device, and was entering text in it to communicate with the human- who, like Keith, had a Key Stone set into his chapeau of choice (in his case, a bowler hat). The man addressed Decidueye by the name Hawkeye, who relayed some information to Chespin, who in turn relayed it to the man. After a few seconds, the man approached Keith, addressing him as "you there, with the talking cat". Keith nodded, acknowledging that he was being addressed, though as this happened, Chespin approached Salazar. The Scolipede tensed up, but Chespin started talking.

"Chespin's sayin' it wants ta make sure Salazar ain't stained," Meowth conveyed, shrugging his confusion as to what exactly this was about. Keith wasn't so confused, though- he had the feeling Chespin wanted to see if Salazar's appearance was his usual coloration or due to something covering him. Indeed, Chespin softly scratched the Scolipede, and presumably upon noticing that the coloration didn't come off, entered something in the tablet. As it did so, the man spoke up, advising Keith to answer honestly. Which wasn't a problem for Keith in the slightest- he looked at the device Chespin was now showing him. He was quite happy to explain the truth, especially if it would convince these guys that he was not whatever dangerous crook they had mistaken him for.

"My name is Keith Masters," said Keith. "I'm a Pokémon Trainer from Lavaridge Town in Hoenn, though I've been in this region for well over a decade by now. Salazar here," he added, gesturing to his Scolipede. "He's had this coloration since he was a Venipede. Long before the Elite Four stepped down, one of them, Stacey, the Ghost-type specialist, gave Trainers the opportunity one Halloween to have one of their Pokémon approach some sort of haunted mirror and see what happened. I don't know if you're familiar with how that works, but basically the spirits within will either play a trick of some sort or reward the Pokémon with some kind of treat. Salazar here, he's fearless, so he volunteered to look into the mirror. When he did, the spirits pulled him in, and when the mirror spat him back out, he was dark grey with red eyes, just the way you see him now."

"Scol, Scolipede," Salazar nodded, confirming Keith's explanation as truth, and remembering that experience all too well.
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Old 04-29-2017, 04:56 PM   #37
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Crimson Sanctum (Shells): The once tranquil and revered Chalice Sanctum was conquered by the Shells when chaos erupted, and the cathedral sector is now under their iron grip. Located to the south-west, the expansive building complex is now a stronghold of the group, who seek to swoop into the vacuum of power and place their leader as undisputed Grand Duke of Goldenridge, at any cost. Their ruthless nature and determination means trouble for those who would cross them, but for those who wish to make something out of their deeds would be rewarded well. The link to the old Rockets means that some of the more dubious pokemon hang around the sanctum. Reply in Scarlet.
Sunlight -- the unabating rays of electromagnetic radiation that so mercifully illuminate the otherwise cold, dark abyss that would be our corner of the universe. Yet the very existence of such spells certain death for that which it provides for; it will one day cease to breath life onto all that surround it. Indeed, all things must come to an end of some sort, after all, perhaps even time itself. Time is quite the curious construction you see, often appearing to both drag on and race by, sometimes concurrently. Such is the nature of relativistic perception, only truly grasped by an outsider. Yes, Damien could adequately be described as such; he was but a mere child by his last account, yet stands today in what appears to be his early twenties. His faithful partners had met the same fate, far older than they remembered. Sunlight didn't exist in that void. He wasn't sure he existed in that void, or perhaps what it even meant to exist. Being frozen in time was indeed nothing like science fiction would have one believe.

Temporal mechanics aside, the raven-haired man was certain he existed in the now, whatever that was. Gazing far off into the distance, he notices the looming building complex; an interesting first site indeed. It would be his first foray into society in who knows how long, after all. Damien glances over to his partner, a graceful and elegant Dragonair who seems to be intrigued by the site as well. She looks over to Damien, rather easily noticing the glimmer of curiosity in his eyes. "Let's get moving, Hikari. I want to see what the world has become." The serpentine creature nods in agreement, and follows her master into the unknown.
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Old 04-29-2017, 06:20 PM   #38
Marion Ette
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The Bastion of Vacuous Dreams.

Marion Ette
: Few people would be mad enough to approach the colossal centrepiece of the city in this day and age, unless they were either completely despondent, greedier than a Swalot or outright insane. You were none of these, though some would argue that the third fitted your stature, a small girl with an elusive history. You were brought before the bastion not out of greed, but interest, a small kitten under the titanic foot of curiosity. You had no intention of being killed, however, and the very thought of it makes you giggle as you stand before the ominous building.

You were no fool, however. Having studied up beforehand, you know the council had perished within and none who entered were seen again, and that this meant barreling headfirst through the front door was a very stupid thing to do. Looking around, your first notice on the building was that it seemed to emanate an aura of unease, as though it was trying to dissuade others from entering. The second notice is that of a number of openings here and there that your small frame could squeeze through. To your left, a vast crack in a wall, zigzagging up into a hole you could probably climb and enter, through use of the crack as a ladder. To the right, a hole that led underneath the southern flank of the building, presumably to the depths of the bastion.

There was also another entrace aside from the main, a damaged window that seemed to flicker slightly from the light of day, located not too far from the front door. Gazing upon it, you have the feeling of something unusual and unnerving, yet similarly exciting, your heart beating. Fate had given you several options, it was just a matter of which poison you fancied drinking this day.
((OOC: Thanks for picking me up, Raves! I'm looking forward to this~))

Ffion is quick to sense the foreboding aura emanating from her intended destination, and pauses for a moment to consider the options. Certainly, all three possible entrances had their own merits, but the peculiar combination of nervousness and excitement which seizes Ffion's heart from gazing at the damaged window near the entrance meant that she would be making a relatively quick decision. Even as well-grounded and in control of her mind as she was in this particular moment, she was still a firm believer in intuition, and something about this window drew her like a moth to the flame - a metaphor, she hoped, that would not prove to be entirely too apt. She had tangled with the unknown before as a member of the Nightwatch and emerged the victor, but getting too cocky would be a surefire way for her luck to run out - and even those victories came at a great cost. This was a solo mission, so interactions would be avoided if at all possible - observation and exploration was the primary goal, only taking those things which would not weigh her down significantly - and then she would be out. Material wealth was not her focus anyway, but an interesting photograph or document might be worthwhile.

In two fluid motions, she clears the jingly-jangly bracelets from her wrists before throwing them in her bag. Reaching for a hair tie, her wild mane is pulled back to keep it out of her face. Practical decisions, of course, though one wonders why she insisted on the fashionable boots, even in an instance like this - though she proves to be particularly agile in them, as she moves as silently as she can towards the window, scaling it quickly, but carefully. Her motions suggest that this is not the first break-in she has engaged in. Ffion was prepared to step through the metaphorical looking glass, and see what was on the other side.
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Old 04-30-2017, 01:30 AM   #39
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It seems the girls had more up their sleeve than anticipated. No matter, this wasn't terribly bad. Just his Litwick stuck in a whirlpool and his Gengar only able to use like, two moves. Worse has happened.

"You idiot you gonna just stand there?" Marie yelled, the Gengar's mood souring even more. Why was she always such a sourpuss. Whatever, he knew what he needed to do.

"Hey Marie, wanna know what the best way to relive anger is?"

"Shooting something?"

"No. Shadow Punch the Yamask three times. Let your fury consume you," Austin ordered, and he saw Marie smirk.

"Wisp, use Acid Armor to become one with the water a phase out of the Whirlpool. Cover the fish in a Smog before roasting both of them with Heat Wave!"

He could hear Wisp respond. It was a risky tactic, but no pain meant no gain, right? Besides, things were about to become... extra toasty.
"Henchy, quickly, use Protect!" Tara orders in a panic. As Marie winds up and throws her first punch, a green crystalline shield materializes around the Yamask, making the attack bounce off harmlessly. Marie doesn't care, already winding up the next. The Yamask, drained from the damage it has taken, the Fire Spin, and the strain of holding up that Protect, can do so no longer. The second Shadow Punch connects, and Marie quickly follows up with the third. The flames around the Yamask dissipate in the rain as Henchy slumps to the ground, overwhelmed and unable to continue. The black ring around Marie vaporizes as well.

Shredder, seeing this, becomes livid. Without even waiting on an order, the Carvanha lunges at Marie, clamping its jaws down on her fist with a vicious Bite attack as Aimee tries to order it to use Whirlpool. Marie flails as she tries to get the damn piranha off of her, but even then, the Carvanha only lets up of its own accord, proceeding to snap at Marie's face with another Bite.

"Shredder, stop it! Listen to me! Use Whirlpool on the Gengar already!" Aimee orders uselessly. Shredder is not intent on listening to her at all, but he does notice Wisp slip out of the Whirlpool he had set up earlier, the Ghost Type having used its Acid Armor technique to escape. Eyes glowing red with rage, the Carvanha latches onto Wisp as it did Marie, causing Wisp to cry out in pain. However, he still releases a cloud of Smog as ordered. Concentrating to get past the pain and the falling rain, Wisp summons a fiery gale of a Heat Wave, igniting the gas quite forcefully, flinging the Carvanha into nearby debris. The piranha does not rise, the force of the impact being the last straw. It looks like that's it-these Ribs weren't nearly as tough as you thought they would be. Were the tales of gang warfare only a legend, or-

"There you are, Aimee! I've been looking all over for you! The hell are you-" The source of this new voice rounds the corner Aimee had stepped out from and comes into clear view. This young lady is definitely older than the two girls you just battled, and considerably tougher looking. Sporting tunnel plugs, an undercut tied back into a messy, off-center black ponytail, and a few other ear piercings, she wears a black crop top emblazoned with a print of the skeleton of one of Fizzytopia's unique attractions, the ferocious Guillobyss, in an obvious graffiti style. The Pokémon's resemblance to a shark had made it instantly popular for merchandise, it seemed. With it, an open, spiked leather jacket and frayed denim shorts and fishnet leggings, coming down to black leather ankle boots. Various tattoos cover her skin, depicting ferocious Pokemon in intimidating battle stances. "Damnit, you even got Shredder all beaten up. Aimee, how many times have I gotta tell you you're not a proper Rib yet!? I've got enough on my damn plate without you running off to try to prove yourself all the damn time!" she says angrily, yanking the Poké Ball Aimee had from her hand and returning the Carvanha with an angry huff, Aimee not even trying to resist. It would seem this is a regular occurrence, as the older girl turns to you. "Hey. Name's Rochelle, Aimee's my kid sister. I'm guessing these two were trying to capture you, or chase you away, or whatever, to prove themselves, like the other baker's dozen attempts they’ve made this past week. Thanks for keeping them busy or whatever, but I've got real work to do. Just skedaddle on out already, save the rest of us the trouble. Please." she says, clearly exhausted, taking Aimee by the hand and turning to leave. Tara returns her Yamask and walks away, sulking.

You are victorious! Wisp grew to Level 14!

Looks like Rochelle's the real deal-you gonna go after her? Or is something else on your mind now?
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Old 05-02-2017, 09:24 AM   #40
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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.

“Gal?”

“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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Old 05-02-2017, 10:01 AM   #41
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The Ribcage Mall.

134
: After a period of consideration, you decide to follow your handedness and head to the left, after nudging Kakahai in the same direction to the protest of the Vaporeon. As you clamber through the metal, your mind begins to wander on the building and those within. Were the ones who created the marks petty thieves who would run at the sight of a big, mean pokemon? Were you wandering into a horrible cult who would cut the hearts out of those they captured? Was it you, or did you make a horrible mistake? You put these thoughts aside as they do nothing for your claustrophobia, preferring wide open spaces...

You inwardly groan, however, as you discover after the second right turn that the split in the duct was meaningless, as past the turn to the left at the end of the duct was a corner going right. The coo of the Pidove however drives your push as you and your starter head towards the sound, crawling through the ducts until you and Kakahai find yourselves outside the duct, the cooes of the Pidove barely audible over a cacophony of other noises. Climbing to your feet, you realise that you're actually in the mall itself proper, on a balcony section on the first floor above the ground floor.

Peering over the edge, you are taken aback slightly by the number of people in casual attire, with around thirty or so in the area you're in. Some of them are chatting, some are sparring with their pokemon, some are sparring with their own fists, and others are playing around on what appear to be arcade machines hauled from somewhere. One or two of the people around the place look in your direction and you physically freeze as they spot you, though fortunately they don't react in any way, as though you were just another member of their group, not even giving a wave or anything.

Having dodged a potential bullet or fifty, you step back and take a breath, before Kakahai gives you yet another whack for attention, and as you follow her gaze, you spot that familiar Pidove standing on a railing, thousand yard stare and coo once again grabbing your heartstrings. The bird is not overly far, and despite some weathering the pathway there seems sturdy. There is the concern of the fact that someone at least knows you're around, and there's no telling whether or not they will act in any way. What you do know is that the object of your affection is only thirty or so steps away. What's your plan?


The first thing Tate did was take a breath of (relative) fresh air that wasn't infused with Vaporeon butt. The second thing Tate did was shake out the wet clothes which -- by now -- were threatening to chafe sensitive skin. It didn't do much, except make a bit of noise and splatter water in a six inch diameter around the young vagrant.

"We should have gone with Limberman," Tate grunted, a bit sarcastically. Of course, whoever had been at the door hadn't been the Limberman -- that was obvious to Tate's rationa brain in hindsight -- and it would have been better to go inside the warm, dry building, instead of following a bird through a duct into god knows where. Who just follows a bird into a duct?1 Where even were they?!

Tate looked around. Then, Tate froze. They were inside the mall, in a balcony section above the ground floor, and the place was packed. Everyone had that same blue symbol on, and it looked like a rough crowd, too. A gang? Oh jeez, were they in gang territory? The city was in bad shape, but Tate wasn't prepared to deal with bangers. The Johto native was beginning to sweat when the realization struck that a few of the people down below were looking in their direction. Tate looked at them. They looked at Tate. Then, they kept walking.

"Shiiiiiit," Tate groaned. Did they think the naturalist was one of them? Tate looked down at the shopping wet clothes which clung to a slightly chubby frame, and something else dawned upon the poor fool: Tate's plaid shirt of a similar shade of blue as all the ciphers scrawled around the joint; not the same, but close. Maybe, if they didn't make a scene, Tate could just blend in.


"Let's just... play it cool... Kai- ow!"

Kai smacked her trainer in the calf with a thick, muscled tail. She'd been doing that a lot today, and there was bound to be a bruise at this rate. Looking up, it takes the weary and on-edge trainer a moment to spot what it is she intends to bring attention to: the Pidove, cooing away on a railing. Realistically, Tate should have said fuck it, turned around, got back into the vent, crowled back out of the mall, and gotten the hell out of dodge, but the two of them had come this far and Pidove were easily among the trainer's favorites; a true weakness.

Onward we go, into foolishness.

"Hi, cutie," Tate cooed, beginning to edge forward, towards the bird. Afraid of heights and afraid of gangs and afraid of getting murdered by heights and by gangs, Tate's steps were slow as the approach began. "What do you say we get out of here...?"

Spoiler: show
OOC:

Teaching the following TMs to Kai, my Lv. 08 (F) Vaporeon:

TM Blizzard [1]
TM Ice Beam [1]
TM Scald [1]
TM Hidden Power (Ground) [1]
TM Rain Dance [1]


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Old 05-02-2017, 05:31 PM   #42
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And then there were three.



(OOC: Welcoming Alto to my menagerie of misfits!)



Ribcage Mall


Whimsy:


"We'll fill you in on the way," the blue-haired girl -- apparently called Princess -- says, in a jovial tone, pushing you towards the door you'd just come in. Her knitting needles dig into your back, but you don't dare complain. Houston follows at a more leisurely pace, still twirling his bat, and soon you find yourself back out in the parking lot. It seems you're just going nowhere these days, doesn't it? Once you're outside, even Houston finds the hustle in his muscle, and soon all three of you are walking at a brisk clip down the city streets, time apparently of the essence in this 'Mission Syd.' No one, however, is talking, despite promises to the contrary, and just enough time passes that you've opened your mouth to ask again, promising you look just a little like a fool when Houston starts talking over the single, strangled syllable that gets caught in your throat.

"We're hunting down a rat," he says, a bit grimly.

"Syd ain't a rat!" Princess interjects, shrilly. She almost drops a stitch in her furor. Houston sighs, and scratches the scruff on his chin with his free hand, looking and sounding tired.

"Syd's a fucking rat and you know it. Don't matter if there's a ring on your finger or not, it don't change the fact-"

"My Syddie-widdums-"

"Don't start using that fucking baby talk around me Princess-"

The two go in circles for about 45 seconds, and then Houston slaps Princess upside the back of the head. Princess makes a motion as if to stab him with one of her needles, but when she realizes it would ruin her work, she reconsiders, and returns to her craft, muttering obscenities.

"Syd's my twin," Houston finally explains to you, when Princess has cooled her heels. He runs his hand through his curly, red hair. "And, unfortunately, married to this trash."

Princess gives him a dirty look. He laughs.

"We joined the Ribs back when it was just some little nothing-nothing racket and this one still wore trainin' bras. Now we're gonna run this whole city and Syd's flaked."

"Syd's just having a little freakout," Princess dismissed. "That's why we're on our little mission. We're going to hunt down my sugary little cookie cake and resolve this whole... situation."

The two haven't actually given you a whole lot of information, other than that Syd is Houston's twin and Princess' spouse and that apparently, Syd has defected from the Ribs for some reason. You don't get much time to consider these facts or even ask questions, however, as the relative quiet of the afternoon is shattered by the deformed sound of ice cream truck music, played at the wrong tempo. A moment later, a heavily graffiti-ed van covered in defaced stickers illustrating various sugary sweets comes barreling around a corner. It screeches to a halt near you, one tire having jumped the sidewalk. Princess groans. Houston whoops. A blonde man with spiked hair leans out the side window where one might traditionally deliver confections, a bright grin on his face.

"Princess, baby!" He yells. "When did you get so fat?"

"Eat me, Ryan," She informs, making a lewd gesture with one hand. Looking close, you realize he has a familiar series of ciphers tattooed on his neck -- he too is a Rib.

"Where have you been, Ryan my man?" Houston greets. In what is apparently a loving gesture, he takes his bat and puts a nice new dent into the side of the van with it. Ryan makes his own obscene gesture, before diving back inside. A moment later, he emerges, with three popsicles in his fist.

"Hey, I've been working on a new flavor," he informs, extending the frozen goodies out to you, apparently willing to let you have the first one. They're a peculiar shade of yellow, and have a strange, pungent odor. You don't recognize it. Mango? Durian? Princess and Houston don't look like they're in any rush to accept the snack. What will you do?

(Declared: Panpour)




Shanty Heights

Kawaii:


Fearlessly, you jump into the bucket line, your loyal Shellder and Lotad volunteering their services for the good of the community as well. Their help is perhaps the most valuable, as their capacity to move water is much greater than any man. Chunks of searing lumber fall. Workers in the chain grunt and heave as they throw pail after pail. Your Pokémon struggle to keep up the pace. Slowly, but very steadily, the flames begin to shrink. Then, there are only embers. Soon, the structure stands, charred and wet, but still at least partially intact, salvageable items inside and neighboring homes safe. The people of the neighborhood, cheering, surround you and the firefighters. A group of small children pick up Paleon and begin to parade him up and down the block. An elederly woman, muttering incoherently, lays a string of heirloom pearls at the base of Becky's shell as an offering of thanks, until Samatha puts them back in her hand and assures her than the Shellder has no need of them. For a good twenty minutes, the area is pandemonium as people celebrate, cry, search for loved ones, thank the bucket chain, thank you, thank Paleon and Becky, and ensure the condition of their homes. Eventually, things settle down, your Pokémon are returned to you -- Paleon with some suspect looking lipstick marks on his cute little face -- and you're left in the clearing street with Samantha, Mathilda, Jeremy, the rest of the fire fighting corp, and the family of the burned house. The corp and the family are working together to assess the damage and clear the wreckage, and Mathilda is doing her best to make sure your crew is is in the best condition it can be, when Jeremy approaches.

"That was... very brave of you," he says, face drenched in sweat. He looks haggard; considering all the charred plots you'd seen on your way into the city today, you can only assume he'd been running around dealing with fires all morning. "You're... not with the Marshals, and you're not one of my volunteers. Why would you jump in like that?"

"She's here to rescue people!" Mathilda chimes in, innocently, before you can answer. Jeremy grins at his cousin, before looking to you. "A good Samaritan, eh? You know, there have been a lot of fires around here, lately. I'm with the Marshals, myself. They sent me out here to train people. We got a camp, just on the other side of the borough, for volunteers. If you're interested, we could always use more hands. What do you say... want to be a firefighter?"

You came here to help the refugees, but it looks like the people of Shanty Heights have a more dire problem. What will you do?

(Declared: Espeon, Shellder, Lotad, Whimsicott)




Crimson Sanctum


Alto:


Men have always pondered the end of life. We've done it in lots of fanciful ways. Gods smite us down. Zombies eat our brains. Kyogre floods the world. The death of our solar system's star is perhaps one of the more refined ones to consider, but if you posed it to the people in Shanty Heights -- stuck between the cruelty of the Shells and the anarchy of the Ribs -- they'd likely tell you that the end of life comes with the mass starvation of our children. And you know, they wouldn't be wrong.

You've been away a long time, and a lot has changed. But some things never do.

You and Hikari have emerged from a long darkness, but you're going to find that you've stepped into a new and different one altogether. As you approach the sanctum -- a sprawling cathedral on what was likely once a well maintained and opulent grounds that now lies withered and yellowed -- a chill strikes you. There is something bizarre and uncanny about the place, as if it shouldn't exist. But why? You don't know. You've never been here. You advance.

There's no people on the grounds. You don't know what to expect of this place, but you have the strangest feeling there should be people here. Hikari seems to have the same feeling, because she drifts closer to you. Walking straight down the center sidewalk, you approach a large pair of doors, which you try to open; they're locked. Of course they are; is anything ever that easy? You walk around. The clouds drift in front of the sun, and the air grows a bit cooler.

About fifteen feet away, a partially open ground floor window piques your interest. As you approach, you take note of an empty office on the other side. It looks like you open it the rest of the way, if you wanted. A low, rumbling call from a tree behind you momentarily distracts, however; when you turn around, you spy a Murkrow watching you. Its piercing gaze seems to be warning you away. What will you do?

(Declared: Dragonair)



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Old 05-02-2017, 06:11 PM   #43
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Here's hoping I don't regret this.

OOC: Well Heather, looks like you're stuck with me.

THE BASTION OF VACUOUS DREAMS

Heather:

In an area as ominous as this, one would be wise to keep their wits about them and to trust nothing but their instincts. Nothing is ever as it seems. Perhaps you should have paid more attention to your Pokémon companions, perhaps you should have heeded their warnings. But you have no time to ponder such issues now. As you take your first step into the Bastion as the world falls away from under your feet and your vision goes dark. The last thing you register as you fall is a strange pain in your neck...
-------------------------------------------------------
"...What the FUCK is going on here?! Where are we?!"
Loud, angry and panicked yelling wakes you from your slumber, and you rise to find yourself in an unfamiliar corridor. It seemed like something from the olden days - candles adorned the walls giving off faint light that mixed with the almost unnatural lighting from the crystalline light fixture that hung from the ceiling. Straight ahead of you were a set of stairs leading... who knows where, and there were doors either side of you too. And behind you was... nothing, just a wall. That was a cause for alarm.
The first thing you notice is that your two pokemon companions don't seem to be with you - though a quick rummage through your bag results in you finding them both safe inside their Pokéballs. Seems like they were returned to them by someone...
The second thing you notice is that you're not alone. Around you lie three other people in various states of waking. The first is a woman in a dumpy flowery dress, who seemed to look much older than you. She sat upright quite suddenly, muttering something about fire. Whoever she was, she looked pretty unstable. Beside her lay a small boy, who hadn't woken up yet. The child looked almost serene as he slept, his backwards facing cap sitting snugly upon his head as if it hadn't been moved at all. Lastly, behind you stood a young man - the source of the yelling you heard previously. He seemed to be around your age, dressed in a red vest-top and shorts. He also had sweatbands on every limb - was he an athlete? His loud demeanor was good enough to be one. The man banged on the wall a couple more times but it was all for naught - it wasn't going to budge. He gave the wall one last angry punch before resigning himself to the truth. Looks like you were trapped here. Locked in a strange house with a panicked group of people you've never met before... The only question you could ask yourself is...
What do you do?

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Old 05-02-2017, 06:13 PM   #44
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Broken glass, shattered dreams – Shanty Heights was littered with the refuse of its former glory, and perhaps there was some irony here that Jade, who shared a name with a rare and precious stone, found herself currently behind a dumpster bin. Accompanied by the hoodie-clad Maxwell, whose practical choice of fashion keeps his bright orange fur from standing out, the pair had decided to scope out an apartment building in search of refugees to escort out of the city. The gunfire had ceased, at least for the moment, and though a reprieve from that horrific sound was always welcomed, the silence had grown uneasy. As Jade waits for the perfect opportunity to dart through the front door and properly begin her search, strange noises begin to emanate from behind the entrance, growing louder and louder, until the door bursts open, revealing two muscular, tattooed figures with sawed-off pistol-grip shotguns in their hands. Though the Shells had not been in formation long enough to have uniforms per se, Jade has been in the area long enough to know that the rough street attire the two wear would certainly put them right at home in their camp. Most unusual about their appearance, however, are the large, painful-looking welts all over their bodies...

“NOT THE COMBEES! NOT THE COMBEEEEES” one of them screeches through her over-exerted panting, as she runs for her life.

“SHUT UP AND RUN,” the other barks. Fortunately, the path of their escape leads these goons in the opposite direction of the dumpster behind which Jade crouches. It seems, however, that the shouting of these two thugs is not the only source of sound, as a vicious buzzing noise fills the apartment entrance, as at least a dozen male Combees form a defensive formation around the door. Behind the formation of Combees, a barefoot young man in tattered clothes staggers forward, his arms crossed over his chest. “That's right -” he attempts to begin a taunt in the direction of the tattooed figures, before stumbling a bit, wincing in pain. Immediately, the bees turn around, and though Jade may not understand the language which these bees speak, the formerly threatening nature of their buzz has changed dramatically in nature – something about the soft, trembling nature of the hum indicates a shared sense of worry. The young man shakes his head, attempting to stand tall, though it soon becomes clear by the blood trickling down his left side that his crossed arms are hiding a significant injury.

“Go check on the others,” he orders, and all but one of the bug Pokemon present comply immediately, flying back inside. One, however, remains, flying close to the trainer in inspection, its three pairs of eyes all focused on the blood, looking on with concern.

“That was an order, Florian,” the man growls. “What would Abella say if she saw you disobeying?”

The bee stops a moment to consider... and then begins gently flying into the man's left arm, poking it perhaps as a request for it to lift so that the Pokemon may inspect the injury. The young man lowers his head. “Stubborn little brat,” he mutters, but the words are muttered so softly, and with such regret and sadness, that it would be difficult to construe his utterance as intended to insult.

A strange scene, indeed. How will Jade and Maxwell respond?

OOC: thanks for picking me up! slightly intimidated but I'll use that to actually respond in a timely manner, hopefully! =p

"Can't say I'm not a fan of those Combee, Max." Jade whispered to her companion with a sly smile. Any misfortune that came to the Shells was absolutely deserved, as far as she saw. As she had crept forward towards the outer edge of the building, peering around the side, she had quickly hit the side when she saw the thugs run around the side covered in welts. She had poked her head around to see who she had to thank for this blessed display. When the yellow pokemon came into sight, she ducked back behind the wall. The possibility that maybe these Combee didn't have a particularly strong moral compass, and maybe they just stung that guy for fun, was a bit too likely for her to go high five them right away.

She listens closely for any further signs, and upon hearing a man's voice, she pokes one eye out with Maxwell crouched under her, looking as well. The Combee seemed at least concerned about this man, meaning she was inclined to agree with them. After seeing the whole event take place, Jade decides this man and his Combee friends may want to get out of the city. The Shells might come back for revenge, or maybe that injury could get worse. "Let's move. Keep it diplomatic, he's probably a little on edge, alright?" Jade nudged Max as she spoke, and he looked up and nodded.

Jade took a step into the open space and waved at him, hoping he would notice her fairly obvious presence. Max sprinted out ahead a bit more. The trainer gave a peace sign with her hand and spoke as quietly as she could to get the message across the distance, slowly stepping forward with her other hand on the wall as she talked. "I'm Jade, this is my Buizel, Maxwell. Do you need help? Big fan of what you did to the Shells there."
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Old 05-02-2017, 09:34 PM   #45
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OOC: Well Heather, looks like you're stuck with me.

THE BASTION OF VACUOUS DREAMS

Heather:

In an area as ominous as this, one would be wise to keep their wits about them and to trust nothing but their instincts. Nothing is ever as it seems. Perhaps you should have paid more attention to your Pokémon companions, perhaps you should have heeded their warnings. But you have no time to ponder such issues now. As you take your first step into the Bastion as the world falls away from under your feet and your vision goes dark. The last thing you register as you fall is a strange pain in your neck...
-------------------------------------------------------
"...What the FUCK is going on here?! Where are we?!"
Loud, angry and panicked yelling wakes you from your slumber, and you rise to find yourself in an unfamiliar corridor. It seemed like something from the olden days - candles adorned the walls giving off faint light that mixed with the almost unnatural lighting from the crystalline light fixture that hung from the ceiling. Straight ahead of you were a set of stairs leading... who knows where, and there were doors either side of you too. And behind you was... nothing, just a wall. That was a cause for alarm.
The first thing you notice is that your two pokemon companions don't seem to be with you - though a quick rummage through your bag results in you finding them both safe inside their Pokéballs. Seems like they were returned to them by someone...
The second thing you notice is that you're not alone. Around you lie three other people in various states of waking. The first is a woman in a dumpy flowery dress, who seemed to look much older than you. She sat upright quite suddenly, muttering something about fire. Whoever she was, she looked pretty unstable. Beside her lay a small boy, who hadn't woken up yet. The child looked almost serene as he slept, his backwards facing cap sitting snugly upon his head as if it hadn't been moved at all. Lastly, behind you stood a young man - the source of the yelling you heard previously. He seemed to be around your age, dressed in a red vest-top and shorts. He also had sweatbands on every limb - was he an athlete? His loud demeanor was good enough to be one. The man banged on the wall a couple more times but it was all for naught - it wasn't going to budge. He gave the wall one last angry punch before resigning himself to the truth. Looks like you were trapped here. Locked in a strange house with a panicked group of people you've never met before... The only question you could ask yourself is...
What do you do?

As Heather took her first steps into the Bastion, her vision almost immediately went black. She had no time to step back out in panic, however, as her first foot forward sent her tumbling into the void of her own making. A sharp, stinging pain registers in her neck, eliciting a weak cry of pain from Heather. After that, nothing-her consciousness winked out entirely, swallowed up by the gaping abyss.

"...What the FUCK is going on here!? Where are we!?"

A loud, somewhat obnoxious boy's voice slowly brings Heather back to the realm of the waking by sending waves of pain through her head, causing her to sit up quickly, holding her forehead tightly as if this would assuage the sensation at all, despite knowing it wouldn't. Seeing neither Grace nor Magus present, she hastily rifled through her Bag, relieved to find the three Balls of her sole Pokémon and a vacant Fast Ball, as they should have been. Rifling deeper, she found a pair of orange pill bottles. Emptying the contents into her hands, she quickly took a count of them. Finding that all was in order, she replaced everything in her bag, tucking the pill bottles away towards the bottom. After that, she released Magus from her Ball, the Misdreavus clearly troubled as he took in his surroundings. They were in some manner of corridor, quite lavishly decorated with candles and a chandelier that gave off an incredibly odd vibe. A set of stairs straight ahead led off to some place, and doors led off to either side...and yet the source of the yelling came from behind here, where there was naught but a wall. The source was a young man, around Heather's age, with a red outfit and a garish amount of sweatbands. In other places around the corridor were an older woman in a flowery dress, and a younger boy who had yet to awaken.

What the...hell happened? Magus' voice came at last, the Misdreavus seeming quite confused. That certainly wasn't whoever was following us...Did you return me earlier? he added, seeming perplexed.

No, whoever it was returned Grace as well, though...and thankfully left the contents of my bag in order. If I'd lost anything, especially my pills, I don't know what I would have done. Heather thought back. Though Mr. Shouty Pants needs to calm down, my head is not in shape for this decibel level... she added.

I'll let you ask him about that, Arceus knows he doesn't need sudden voices in his head. Magus quipped, Heather nodding in agreement.

In the meantime, see if you can detect anything spooky behind those doors. Heather thought back.

Don't count on it. I didn't catch a whiff of whatever was behind the front door, anyway. Magus replied, Heather simply shaking her head before approaching the loud athlete person.

"Hey, uh, could you take it down a notch? My head kinda hurts right now, and the shouting is only making it worse..." she said, looking down and away. She wasn't very good at asking favors of people like this...
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Old 05-02-2017, 11:26 PM   #46
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[SIZE="1"][JUSTIFY][INDENT][INDENT]


Shanty Heights

Kawaii:
[INDENT]

Fearlessly, you jump into the bucket line, your loyal Shellder and Lotad volunteering their services for the good of the community as well. Their help is perhaps the most valuable, as their capacity to move water is much greater than any man. Chunks of searing lumber fall. Workers in the chain grunt and heave as they throw pail after pail. Your Pokémon struggle to keep up the pace. Slowly, but very steadily, the flames begin to shrink. Then, there are only embers. Soon, the structure stands, charred and wet, but still at least partially intact, salvageable items inside and neighboring homes safe. The people of the neighborhood, cheering, surround you and the firefighters. A group of small children pick up Paleon and begin to parade him up and down the block. An elederly woman, muttering incoherently, lays a string of heirloom pearls at the base of Becky's shell as an offering of thanks, until Samatha puts them back in her hand and assures her than the Shellder has no need of them. For a good twenty minutes, the area is pandemonium as people celebrate, cry, search for loved ones, thank the bucket chain, thank you, thank Paleon and Becky, and ensure the condition of their homes. Eventually, things settle down, your Pokémon are returned to you -- Paleon with some suspect looking lipstick marks on his cute little face -- and you're left in the clearing street with Samantha, Mathilda, Jeremy, the rest of the fire fighting corp, and the family of the burned house. The corp and the family are working together to assess the damage and clear the wreckage, and Mathilda is doing her best to make sure your crew is is in the best condition it can be, when Jeremy approaches.

"That was... very brave of you," he says, face drenched in sweat. He looks haggard; considering all the charred plots you'd seen on your way into the city today, you can only assume he'd been running around dealing with fires all morning. "You're... not with the Marshals, and you're not one of my volunteers. Why would you jump in like that?"

"She's here to rescue people!" Mathilda chimes in, innocently, before you can answer. Jeremy grins at his cousin, before looking to you. "A good Samaritan, eh? You know, there have been a lot of fires around here, lately. I'm with the Marshals, myself. They sent me out here to train people. We got a camp, just on the other side of the borough, for volunteers. If you're interested, we could always use more hands. What do you say... want to be a firefighter?"

You came here to help the refugees, but it looks like the people of Shanty Heights have a more dire problem. What will you do?

(Declared: Espeon, Shellder, Lotad, Whimsicott)

Kawaii looked stunned she had never imagined that the people would accept her this quickly. The female trainer smiled and nodded "Of course I would. I wanted to come here to help!"
Becky hopped happily while Paleon smiled at the attention. Frieghya looked up at her trainer and asked a question psychically. Kawaii gave a smalk nod and returned her attention to the refugee's "Do you guys know what is causing the fires? Maybe its a mischevious fire-type." she offered "If we can find the source it could be easier to put up protection."
Meanwhile Frieghya and Cerno turned their attention to the ruined building. Frieghya began sorting through the rubble for usable peices using her psychic powers. The Espeon would then lift the beams into place while Cerno used his sticky cotton spore attack to fix them in place.
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Old 05-05-2017, 05:11 AM   #47
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With the recent lift on members I'd like to welcome Marion Ette, Gemini Spark and Sparkbeat, on top of MM and Tate's updates. So with all said and done, here we go.

Crimson Sanctum.

Gemini Spark
: Many had entered the once proud Goldenridge City, but few of these were ever pokemon in the guise of humans, but you were one of these. Having heard on the grapevine of the rise of the Shells in Bedlam Ridge and their connection to the source of your deepest grudges, you find yourself assuming the form of your once mortal body, completely inconspicuous to many people, with the single minded aim of vengeance. However, you weren't so foolish as to travel to their headquarters alone, as the presence of the Scizor by your side made it clear, a pokemon you personally had familiarity with before your untimely demise.

Having reached the Crimson Sanctum, you are quickly notified of why the Shells chose this particular location. The stunning architecture and imposing outline of the cathedral district made the location both awe inspiring and fear inducing, and with your Banette roots, you can practically taste the emotion and effort that went into constructing the building, every part of it to your liking. However, you weren't here for the buffet. Looking around, you can tell security in the place is extremely tight.

At the main entrance, six Shells stand, with their own vicious looking pokemon. On the roof, you can spot more Shells and their pokemon, Crobat circling the building silently, the presence truly putting the fort into fortification. Taking a moment or two to assess the situation, Chex gives a clack of the claws before motioning you to a shadowy figure standing just out of sight of the group. You are aware that the Shells are recruiting, and your way into the complex could be through there if your honour was that easily lain aside, but perhaps the figure, who beckoned at you with a finger, knew of a more covert entrance.

What will you do?
The massive cathedral in front of Michael may have at one point been used as a place of worship, but now it stands as a bastion for an up and coming crime organization, a stark contrast to its former role. Lots of thugs and their Pokemon were guarding the door as well as the roof, while a few Crobat flew around as aerial sentries making the building seem impenetrable. The easiest way inside would be to join their ranks, but Chex gnashed his claw to grab Michael's attention toward a mysterious person off to the side, outside of the thugs' line of sight, seemingly calling the pair towards them. Michael looked at his Scizor friend, then at the large group of Skulls and the Crobat above to make sure none of them were looking in their direction, before silently motioning the Bug-type to walk with him towards the person. Hopefully, they would be able to walk out of the middle of the road and stealth their way to the figure without drawing attention towards themselves...
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Old 05-05-2017, 05:28 PM   #48
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With a roll of the dice, fates have been sealed.

The Ribcage Mall.

134
: Mesmerised as you are by the Pidove, your gentle cooing towards the bird as you begin to slowly inch towards it, trying to be as quiet as possible to avoid further attention. As you creep along the cracked ground, you realise that the damaged floor appears only to be on the surface, while Kakahai follows you, hidden from view behind the wall of the balcony. Only ten paces from the avian, the pigeon tilts its head slightly, still staring at you with those eyes as your heartbeat picks up, five steps away from it...

The Pidove then blinks.

As eye contact is broken, you have the feeling of sinking and as the Vaporeon squeaks out, you realise the floor in front of the bird is nowhere near as stable, the balcony giving way beneath your frame as the Pidove begins to coo repeatedly, as though laughing at your misfortune before fluttering off the barrier. Your fall is short and broken by something surprisingly solid, to a chorus of shock. Kakahai hops down after you, concerned for your welfare, and as you flop onto the ground, pain in your legs from the landing, the sensation of being looked at by a crowd sinks into you as you find yourself discovered by every one of the folk...who seem to have the same marking as outside on their person, be it clothing, tattoo, paint or otherwise handmade jewellery.

"Wha-what the hell was that!?"

Before you can do anything, you're hauled to your feet by four arms and turned around to the sorry sight of a bashed and mangled arcade machine, with one rather irked man around your age with a scruffy chin frowning at you. Kakahai makes a half-hearted attempt to defend you, but the sight of Croagunk and Emolga is enough to make the Vaporeon back down against you, both of you trembling as you try to apologise/bargain.

"God damn it, I was on a good run there and now it's busted! Again! You got some nerve, boy!" the fellow snarls, until a few voices butt in.

"You sure that's a guy? Looks like a girl to me..."

"You look a girl, more like."

"WHAT!? Wanna say that to my face, punk!?"

"Oh great, those two numpties are at it again..."

"Who knows, that kid's ambiguous as it is, could be nonbinary or fluid..."

"Does it matter, folks?" the first man barks, before looking at you and your companion, then up at the Pidove perched on a post further up, then the wrecked arcade machine. After a few seconds of pondering, the folk holding you pipe up.

"So whadda we gonna do about this sneaky little vandal, Ross?"

"Should we chuck 'em into the shark hole? Shove 'em through the Cacnea pen?"

"Nah, let 'm go," the prior fellow, now know as Ross sighs. "Kid musta wandered in out of the rain after the bird up there, given their getup. Course, can't let em get away with wrecking my console there..." he growls, before waving an arm as the crowd forms a circle around you and Ross, the two holding you having let go.

"Right, here's how things work round here with the Ribs, kid," he starts, plucking a ball from his pocket and enlarging it. "I sees you got a nice Vaporeon there by yer side. Now, we Ribs, we don't see much point in grabbing other's property when they sneaks into ours, but kudos where it's due. Point I'm making is..." he pauses, tossing the ball to the side to reveal something familiar to Kakahai, yet much fluffier with a orange and yellow coat and a huge tail that seems like a flame.

"...you gonna have to entertain us folks. Your Vape against my Flareon, one on one. Lose, we chuck you back out into the rain and storms. Win, we overlook your trespassin' and see about making your wild goose chase somethin'..." Ross concludes, the Rib one to listen to reason, yet eager for some form of payback. You've no way out of this one it seems, but it appears you've got a fair fight in front of you, Ross' Flareon staring at Kakahai, ready for a scrap...


Crystal Grove.

Missingno. Master
: You've been in worse situations than this, and under people far less willing to listen, so without missing much of a beat you relay your identity, which you're quick to notice raises the man's eyebrow, as though in recognition. Continuing, you explain Salazar's colouration and history, the Megapede conveying agreement to the Chespin and man. After a tense few seconds, the fellow puts hand to chin in thought, then speaks.

"Masters, hm...ah, right. I see, you do look familiar. Static Town's first Stunfisk Spelling Standoff? I was there watching when those idiot Rockets decided to show up. Kept out of sight though, not one for competitions of those sorts..." he quips, before turning his head towards the Decidueye. "You can let them go, Hawkeye, mistaken identity." The Arrow Quill pokemon breaks eye contact before waving its wing, as you feel the shackle around your leg dissipate, Salazar giving a few stomps to get feeling back in his.

"The name's Donovan. Travel around the place, but decided to stop here in the city when the Shells started to spread out more. The folks of the grove called on me to help stamp out any approach of the group, which I'm only too happy to do. A few other trainers banded together with me, we call ourselves the Vanguard. We get paid well, they don't ask questions, just want results, which suits us fine..." he pauses, giving you the impression his sense of justice is a little on the vigilante side of things, much like you and the Rockets.

"Anyways, the Chespin here's from the Marshals. Some guy offed his trainer a few months ago, he's been after them ever since as some sorta investigator. The guy in question goes by the Black Scarab, after the Scolipede they used in the murder, stained black as Darkrai." The Chespin nods, the resolute twinkle in his eye showing the determination to bring the killer to justice.

"Not much is known about the Scarab other than the black Scolipede and links to the Shells. We think he's some officer among them, possibly ex-Rocket given the rumours - sorry, fact - that some of the group reneged on their bosses and came here to try and rule the city as their own thing." Donovan spits, the man clearly not amused by the prospect of the Shells in the city.

"But anyways, enough about them, we should get you and your team down to Vanguard's outpost. That is, if you're up for investigating the Scarab. If not, then there's a job one of the nobles here had for us regarding some movement in the north."

With that said, Donovan stands with arms folded, waiting for your response, Hawkeye shrugging in response to Meowth's unamused glare, while the Chespin looks at you, as though requesting your support regarding the Scarab. What's your decision?


Crimson Sanctum.

Gemini Spark
: You may have been a spirit of vengeance given new life, but you weren't such a fool as to approach a stronghold heavily defended when you had no clue how the Shells would react. As you make your way to the hidden figure, you and Chex are thankfully unseen, and reach the figure, who happens to be considerably shorter than you, wearing an unusual mask and clad in many strips of cloth that form a makeshift jumbled robe.

"Ah, kyu reaches me-me not seen!" the figure squeaks, voice high-pitched and slightly grating on the ears to say the least. "Me-me knows ghost when me-me sees one, kyu not man-man truly!" The stranger's revelation catches you by surprise though you manage to maintain the facade without saying or doing anything, curious. Questioning the stranger, they whirl around before continuing.

"Why me-me knows? Because me-me also not man-man, silly! Me-me lost me-me self in big castle place, bang-bang squads take me-me self. Now me-me seeks to make bang-bang squads DIIIIIIEEEEEEEE!" the figure practically roars the final word, as you and Chex take a defensive posture, waiting for inevitable discovery...except nothing. Not even a cough, as though the Shells didn't notice.

"Ah, but where me-me man-man nears? Me-me am not man-man, me am Neemee! Kyu seeks castle seekies? Me-me has sneaky way in! Me-me use ghost tunnel to sneak-sneak in to castle! But me-me call kyu for super helpful task." the odd fellow squeaks.

"Kyu big and strong with hard bug and friends! Me-me sad that me-me not strong. Me-me not able to make bang-bang squads be the PAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNN! So me-me wants kyu to help me-me find self! Me-me make worth while! What kyu ask, me-me give! Help me-me?"

Neemee, as eccentric as they appear, seems to be making you an offer you would be as crazy as they are to refuse. Chex shrugs, clearly as confounded as you are at the four foot masked figure, but if the being is as honest as they state, you could have the first step towards your goal in sight. What'll you do?


The Bastion of Vacuous Dreams.

Marion Ette
: Taking precautions not to damage your belongings or hair, you decide on taking the window entrance, silently flitting across the road and climbing through the window, your curiosity deciding the path. You had faced unknown dangers and survived as a member of the Nightwatch, what was one unusual window in a mysterious and colossal building?

Clambering past the threshold, you drop into the room, looking behind you at the window to ensure you had a simple getaway plan...only to find there is no window. Indeed, your entrance had turned into a solid wall, one you confirm with a couple knocks on the stone. There wasn't any way back, but you had been in worse, and inwardly felt this would have been an inevitability. Taking in your surroundings, you find the room you're in to be rather old, both in the sense of it being abandoned for long enough, and being rather...medieval in setting.

Cobwebs and dust cake almost every surface of the oaken furniture, wrought iron chandeliers and candles perpetually lit with an unusual green light, with the mucky carpet indistinguishable from the granite floor. Ahead, a pair of wooden thrones stand near the back, with a pair of thick wooden doors that appear so heavy even a Machamp would put its back out trying to move them. However, what truly sets the scene apart are the lifelike mannequins sitting in the throne, both in present era clothing.

Something about the room feels off. The long table to the left has some unusual looking spheres, the rightmost table a feast laid out, not a speck of dust on them, while the mannequins seem to stare right at you. Well, you came looking for observation and discovery, you may as well get started on just that. The question is, though, where to begin?
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Old 05-05-2017, 05:47 PM   #49
Missingno. Master
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Crystal Grove.

Missingno. Master
: You've been in worse situations than this, and under people far less willing to listen, so without missing much of a beat you relay your identity, which you're quick to notice raises the man's eyebrow, as though in recognition. Continuing, you explain Salazar's colouration and history, the Megapede conveying agreement to the Chespin and man. After a tense few seconds, the fellow puts hand to chin in thought, then speaks.

"Masters, hm...ah, right. I see, you do look familiar. Static Town's first Stunfisk Spelling Standoff? I was there watching when those idiot Rockets decided to show up. Kept out of sight though, not one for competitions of those sorts..." he quips, before turning his head towards the Decidueye. "You can let them go, Hawkeye, mistaken identity." The Arrow Quill pokemon breaks eye contact before waving its wing, as you feel the shackle around your leg dissipate, Salazar giving a few stomps to get feeling back in his.

"The name's Donovan. Travel around the place, but decided to stop here in the city when the Shells started to spread out more. The folks of the grove called on me to help stamp out any approach of the group, which I'm only too happy to do. A few other trainers banded together with me, we call ourselves the Vanguard. We get paid well, they don't ask questions, just want results, which suits us fine..." he pauses, giving you the impression his sense of justice is a little on the vigilante side of things, much like you and the Rockets.

"Anyways, the Chespin here's from the Marshals. Some guy offed his trainer a few months ago, he's been after them ever since as some sorta investigator. The guy in question goes by the Black Scarab, after the Scolipede they used in the murder, stained black as Darkrai." The Chespin nods, the resolute twinkle in his eye showing the determination to bring the killer to justice.

"Not much is known about the Scarab other than the black Scolipede and links to the Shells. We think he's some officer among them, possibly ex-Rocket given the rumours - sorry, fact - that some of the group reneged on their bosses and came here to try and rule the city as their own thing." Donovan spits, the man clearly not amused by the prospect of the Shells in the city.

"But anyways, enough about them, we should get you and your team down to Vanguard's outpost. That is, if you're up for investigating the Scarab. If not, then there's a job one of the nobles here had for us regarding some movement in the north."

With that said, Donovan stands with arms folded, waiting for your response, Hawkeye shrugging in response to Meowth's unamused glare, while the Chespin looks at you, as though requesting your support regarding the Scarab. What's your decision?
Keith could only do in this situation what he figured was the smart thing- tell the truth. Sometimes lying was the way to go, in direct spite of everything every decent parent ever teaches their kids, but in this case, the truth really did set him free. The man did indeed recognize Keith, though it wasn't from what he'd accomplished on Aduro Island- rather, he had been in Static Town when the Stunfisk Spelling Standoff took place, and witnessed Keith in action in said tournament. Possibly even witnessed Keith's triumph over Rocket Executive Jet, and Ariana's evolution into Garbodor. To Keith's immense relief, this all led up to the Decidueye letting up the Spirit Shackle, freeing Keith and Salazar from those ethereal confines.

The man introduced himself as Donovan, a man who traveled around but stopped in the city following the more widespread activities of the Shells. The locals sought his help, which he was happy to provide, along with a band of Pokémon Trainers. Keith noted that their particular brand of justice seemed to fall under the heading of vigilante, but then, who was he to protest this? He rarely, if ever, got the police involved if he and his Pokémon were capable of handling the situation.

Then came the explanation Keith had a shrewd suspicion was coming- the Black Scarab. The Chespin accompanying Donovan lost his Trainer several months ago at the hands of a murderous man, affiliated with the Shells in some way, known as the Black Scarab specifically because of his- Keith had fucking called it- black Scolipede. Donovan stated that the general opinion thus far was that the Black Scarab was some sort of higher-up among the Shells, and possibly a former member of Team Rocket, considering the Shells' origins. After this, Donovan offered to get Keith and his Pokémon down to the Vanguard's outpost, provided he was interested in investigating the Black Scarab. And it didn't take him especially long to work out whether he was or not. First off, he could just picture the look on Helena's face if he told her he had a chance to go after an ex-Rocket and passed it up. Second, this Black Scarab used a Poison-type in his crimes, further perpetuating a stereotype Keith so virulently despised- that Poison-types were evil, or at least best suited to Trainers with impure intentions. Neither of these were true, and Keith knew it, and made it a mission of his to ensure the world at large knew it as well. And third, this Black Scarab had killed the Chespin's Trainer. As far as Keith was concerned, Chespin deserved justice, and Keith, for one, was willing to help him get it.

"Lead the way to the outpost," Keith stated. "I'll help out however I can against this Black Scarab guy."

"Count me-owth in as well," Meowth added, shakily climbing back up to Keith's shoulder- the paralysis from the backfired Zap Cannon was still messing with him.

"Scoli!" Salazar nodded.
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Old 05-06-2017, 10:49 PM   #50
Whimsy
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(OOC: Welcoming Alto to my menagerie of misfits!)



Ribcage Mall


Whimsy:


"We'll fill you in on the way," the blue-haired girl -- apparently called Princess -- says, in a jovial tone, pushing you towards the door you'd just come in. Her knitting needles dig into your back, but you don't dare complain. Houston follows at a more leisurely pace, still twirling his bat, and soon you find yourself back out in the parking lot. It seems you're just going nowhere these days, doesn't it? Once you're outside, even Houston finds the hustle in his muscle, and soon all three of you are walking at a brisk clip down the city streets, time apparently of the essence in this 'Mission Syd.' No one, however, is talking, despite promises to the contrary, and just enough time passes that you've opened your mouth to ask again, promising you look just a little like a fool when Houston starts talking over the single, strangled syllable that gets caught in your throat.

"We're hunting down a rat," he says, a bit grimly.

"Syd ain't a rat!" Princess interjects, shrilly. She almost drops a stitch in her furor. Houston sighs, and scratches the scruff on his chin with his free hand, looking and sounding tired.

"Syd's a fucking rat and you know it. Don't matter if there's a ring on your finger or not, it don't change the fact-"

"My Syddie-widdums-"

"Don't start using that fucking baby talk around me Princess-"

The two go in circles for about 45 seconds, and then Houston slaps Princess upside the back of the head. Princess makes a motion as if to stab him with one of her needles, but when she realizes it would ruin her work, she reconsiders, and returns to her craft, muttering obscenities.

"Syd's my twin," Houston finally explains to you, when Princess has cooled her heels. He runs his hand through his curly, red hair. "And, unfortunately, married to this trash."

Princess gives him a dirty look. He laughs.

"We joined the Ribs back when it was just some little nothing-nothing racket and this one still wore trainin' bras. Now we're gonna run this whole city and Syd's flaked."

"Syd's just having a little freakout," Princess dismissed. "That's why we're on our little mission. We're going to hunt down my sugary little cookie cake and resolve this whole... situation."

The two haven't actually given you a whole lot of information, other than that Syd is Houston's twin and Princess' spouse and that apparently, Syd has defected from the Ribs for some reason. You don't get much time to consider these facts or even ask questions, however, as the relative quiet of the afternoon is shattered by the deformed sound of ice cream truck music, played at the wrong tempo. A moment later, a heavily graffiti-ed van covered in defaced stickers illustrating various sugary sweets comes barreling around a corner. It screeches to a halt near you, one tire having jumped the sidewalk. Princess groans. Houston whoops. A blonde man with spiked hair leans out the side window where one might traditionally deliver confections, a bright grin on his face.

"Princess, baby!" He yells. "When did you get so fat?"

"Eat me, Ryan," She informs, making a lewd gesture with one hand. Looking close, you realize he has a familiar series of ciphers tattooed on his neck -- he too is a Rib.

"Where have you been, Ryan my man?" Houston greets. In what is apparently a loving gesture, he takes his bat and puts a nice new dent into the side of the van with it. Ryan makes his own obscene gesture, before diving back inside. A moment later, he emerges, with three popsicles in his fist.

"Hey, I've been working on a new flavor," he informs, extending the frozen goodies out to you, apparently willing to let you have the first one. They're a peculiar shade of yellow, and have a strange, pungent odor. You don't recognize it. Mango? Durian? Princess and Houston don't look like they're in any rush to accept the snack. What will you do?

(Declared: Panpour)


Michael was hurried out of the door quite quickly, barely managing to catch hold of Blue before the Panpour fell off his back. He tried to hide his relief that he and Blue hadn't been pummeled into the dirt. Looks like they were safe - for now. As long as they co-operated of course.
Princess and Houston walked the streets with great haste, with Michael following the two quite nervously. Blue could almost feel his trainer tense up under his paws. No-one was saying anything! Michael couldn't take this unbearable silence. He needed sound, he needed noise, something, anything! If they weren't going to say anything, he wo-

Michael's inner monologue was interrupted by Houston finally explaining the details of 'Mission Syd'. He tried to concentrate on the entire thing, but by the time Houston and Princess had finished arguing and actually told him what they were out to do, he had forgotten most of it. As far as he could remember though, this 'Syd' dude was Houston's twin and Princess' spouse, he'd defected from the Ribs and they were off to find out why. Seemed easy enough, right? Except for the part where he didn't actually get the plan at all. He was about to ask for another quick runthrough when a strange sound blared from around the corner. The sound was followed by an ice cream truck that blasted around the corner, screeching to a halt near the three trainers. Blue actually did fall off Michael's shoulder then, startled by the vehicle. The truck's driver - apparently named Ryan - was another Ribs member judging by the markings on his neck and the way that Princess and Houston only playfully fucked with him instead of maliciously. He also seemed to be a bit of a confectioner, as he handed the three trainers strange, yellow coloured ice lollies.
Michael absentmindedly started to suckle on the tip of the ice lolly as he pondered what he should do with it. Princess and Houston didn't seem to want theirs. Maybe he should follow their lead? He swirled his tongue around the lolly, before taking most of it into his mouth. He didn't exactly know where the thing came from, after all. And the colouration was a bit suspect. Maybe he should also decline the confection. He didn't know where it had been. And considering a Ribs member gave it to him, it could have been anywhere. Maybe it was safer to say no...

Michael continued to eat the ice lolly.

Last edited by Whimsy; 05-06-2017 at 11:02 PM.
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