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Old 05-31-2017, 12:11 PM   #26
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Patches: The smell hit your nose immediately, it was awful. Why would they hold a festival in such a horribly smelling place? Were they so busy with the planning of the party that they hadn't had the chance to clean their home? It was a little pitiable, and you felt as though you must do everything in your power to help the home owners. Your Pikachu, meanwhile, was digging through your bag in a vain attempt to bury itself within it's Pokeball. Your Eevee on the other hand, was seemingly having the time of it's life bounding through the various corridors of the sprawling mansion. You yanked a napkin from out of your bag, wiping away the dust and the various cobwebs that hung from the ceiling. Your first goal now, was to find the source of the smell before attending the party.

A chill resonates through your entire body, you feel it coming from the left hallway. You immediately get a good feeling about that direction, that was probably where the festival was.. but you weren't done cleaning up at the moment. However, your Eevee didn't have a care in the world, it pranced down that hallway, not worried about what you, or anyone else thought of it. As you told your Eevee to be careful, you were immediately silenced by some sort of loud noise, and the smell getting much, much worse. You glance at the napkin in your hand, it's mangled, falling apart, and far too overused at this point to get anything else done with it. As you continue down the hallway, you notice a smoky black door, deep gashes running through it's surface. You immediately think to yourself how much more of a cleaning this place needed, as well as the thought that they'd need a new door. The smell is overwhelming at this point, and the thought crossed your mind very suddenly that the smell must be coming from beyond here. Your Eevee places it's paws on the door and gives you a pleading look, wanting desperately to go inside. Your Pikachu jumps down in protest, but you are determined. If you want to get this place clean, you want to start with the source of that awful smell.

You place your hand on the handle, it seems awfully cold compared to the rest of the building. The smoky black tint of the door would probably make you assume the opposite, as if it had been burnt. As you push the door open, you swear you hear some sort of growling as you enter the room, but you brush it off as you hearing things. You looked around the oddly spacious room, realising two things almost instantly. The first was that it was extremely cold in here, the second was that there were no stairs leading into the basement here. The smell was still present however, and it seemed to be coming from a particular corner of the bedroom. You walked towards it, noticing something on the floor. It seemed to be a bag of... incense? Someone must've been burning it before you arrived, but whatever flavour it was smelt absolutely disgusting. You picked up the bag and pulled out some of the contents, it almost looked like ash in your hand. You shrugged, deciding to take it with you in the hopes of disposing of it.

You looked around once again, seeing a particular painting on the wall above where you found the baggie... had that always been there? You don't recall seeing it when you first walked into the room, but you must've just glanced over it... right? You eye it carefully, noticing it looks like some sort of gem-eyed Pokemon, a large smile resting upon it's face. It looks almost real in a way, it's smile almost chills you in a way. You notice the painting is somewhat crooked, you almost want to adjust it in a way.

The mysterious painting is tilted on it's hinge, should you adjust it to help tidy the house a bit or continue on your way? What do you do?
“Hm. I wasn’t expecting this doorknob to be so cold.” Patches examines the doorknob carefully for a moment but just shrugs it off and enters the room. The moment she enters the room she hears what sounds like growling noises. “Um… Did either of you hear that growling just now?” Neither of her Pokemon respond but Mio’s paws begin to dig into her shoulder a bit out of nervousness. “It was probably just the door creaking...” She shrugs it off and instantly realizes she is actually freezing cold. ’I really wish I had brought a sweater with me. I wonder why it’s so cold in here… But first I need to find the source of that smell!' With her goal in mind she practically forgets she’s cold and sets off to find the source! It didn’t take long to find the bag of incense on the floor. “Oh wow this is where that awful smell was coming from this entire time!? I feel so bad for the owners that they’ve been forced to use this in an attempt to freshen up in here! I’ve got just the thing though!” She kneels down on the ground and puts her bag down and begins to quickly shuffle through all of her disorganized things. First, she pulls out an empty container that has an air seal on it and places the incense inside and seals it nice and tight. ’Alright, so that takes care of the smell but I still need to replace it with something that will freshen this place right up!’ She begins to dig through her belongings once again. “Found you!” She pulls out a little tin and opens it up pulling out a single mint. She gently places the mint on the floor where the incense had once been. “These always make my breath smell fresh so I’m sure it will do the same for this room too!” Patches is very proud of herself for being so helpful, meanwhile, Mio has been on her shoulder this entire time and is just facepalming at her owners logic.

Patches stands up and begins to look around the room again and notices a painting across the room on the wall that she didn’t remember seeing before. “Wow! That painting is really nice, I’m surprised I didn’t notice it sooner. It’s a bit crooked so I’m going to have to straighten it up once I finish cleaning up all of the dust in here.” She goes to reach into her bag and realizes she isn’t holding it. Turns out, she left it on the floor earlier so she walks over to rummage through it once again in search of more napkins. “That’s strange… I could have sworn I had more napkins than this...” She looks up from her bag and notices Kiku. The little Eevee is curled up and snoring in a fluffy nest of torn up napkins that he made. “Kiku!!!” She was almost going to scold him but his head perked up at the sound of his name and he gave her his famous innocent look. “That face gets me every time! You’re just too cute to be mad at!” She picks up her bag and begins to walk over to the painting since now she doesn’t have anything to dust with so she may as well straighten up. Mio is beginning to get restless again but keeps it to herself as Patches reaches up to adjust the painting.
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Old 05-31-2017, 03:20 PM   #27
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Le Marais Noir

Known as the 'Black Marsh,' Marais Noir is actually a series of wetlands on the north western tip of Fizzytopia, which includes marshes, swamps, and even a thicket of mangroves which stand between Marais Noir and the coastline. A variety of Pokémon call the relatively untamed wilderness home, and a city stands in the heart of it all; a bastion of revelry and sin.


La Ville des Farceurs et Voleurs
The City of Jesters and Thieves, as it has come to be known, is a place of celebration and a place of woe. Often alight with festivals, the city is a place where good food, good drink, and fine company can easily be found. Be wary, however: there is no shortage of crime here. Pickpockets and thieves roam the streets looking for easy marks. Gamblers and con artists are eager to take the unsuspecting for all that they have. Perhaps because of the constant excitement and trickery, Psychic Pokémon gather here, feeding on the energy of winners and losers alike. Will you try your luck here, at la Ville des Farceurs et Voleurs? Please reply in Goldenrod.

They say life and live make fools of us all, and that to be fooled twice is only your folly.

Scarcely two weeks had passed ever since the discovery of an object at a tavern frequented by the patrons of Fizzytopia and subsequent short-lived battle with an unusual fire, and some had posters up looking for some stranger wreathed in scarves and goggles, but none would find them, for the owner of said guise had long since shed it.

The journey to Le Marais Noir was uneventful, of course, but then what wetlands ever were? The journey to the City of Jesters and Thieves, known locally as la Ville des Farceurs et Voleurs, less so. However, for those who visited, they would find a magnificent and colourful settlement, full of festivities and entertainment, where the rich and powerful could enjoy fine food, finer wines and the finest ladies of the night money could buy.

Of course, she wasn't here for luxuria or lucrum, as she had no need for either. No, she was in the city strictly on business. The dark-haired woman had chosen to wear a knee length gown over a sturdy leather top, with a pair of trousers sewn with thin chains down their length, much like chainmail to an effect, though nothing clanked, a marriage of formal and casual in one. The gown wasn't even hers: she had permission from another to use it, with no concern if it were lost. Of course, her signature length of grey hair down her back was necessary, as it was a damn necessity for her.

By the woman's side plodded a dapper Mawile, a band around the neck revealing their green eyes, an oddity for most, and yet the intimidating stance surrounding it made well sure that anyone trying to intrude upon his master would find themselves in severe pain and bleeding profusely.

Her business was simple: discern whether the ornate key found within a lockbox had a use, and if so, utilise it. She had her thoughts, and felt that the design of the intricate and seemingly valuable object came from the city. It was just a case of what its purpose was, and so she sought someone who may know of it. However, she was no fool, and knew that a city with such delusions of grandeur had its dark underbelly.
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Old 05-31-2017, 07:07 PM   #28
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Le Manoir des Mensonges
The natives say it's the 'Manor of Lies'. It's stood on the edge of la Ville des Farceurs et Voleurs for hundreds of years. Legend holds that a wealthy matron once owned it, and lived deep within its many chambers with her beloved twin Liepards. No one can say for sure what happened, but it's rumored that one day, a pair of delinquents took her beloved Pokémon and did something truly cruel, never to returned. The story does not stop there, however, for they say soon after the teenagers fell ill and died; the city -- then just a village -- revolted on the woman, certain she must have cursed the boys in revenge. Burned at the stake, some say she rose from the ashes right there in the town square and returned to her house, which was never sold, for no sensible person would wish to live in such a cursed abode. It sits now, in surprisingly sturdy condition, mostly untouched from all those many years ago. A popular spot for thrill-seekers, dark-type Pokémon seem to have taken to the ambiance and are in no short supply in this cobweb-filled, musty old manor. Some even say the old woman still lives, deep inside the twisting hallways and innumerable rooms... Please reply in Teal.
They called this place the Manor of Lies. A house on the far reaches of town home to a malevolent spirit. Rumors say the old hag still stalked these halls, filled with spite for what was done to her beloved Pokemon. It was a cruel fate, to be burned as a witch. Austin knew that magic wasn't something to be so easily trifled with... Regardless, he seemed drawn to this place. It was as if some lost memory seemed to guide him here, to a place like this.

The halls were dank and the stagnant air seemed to be choking the life from him. Why was he here? It was hard to think what cruel fate would befall him if he was to expire here. Wisp's fire flickered and seemed to dim. Usually the Litwick enjoyed places where the dead walked, where he could truly feast on the souls of the damned. Yet, this place was different. It was as if he didn't dare to eat the tormented souls that fell victim to this place. It was a bit worrying.

Austin held Custer in his arms, the Foongus seeming to watch everything around them with a sense of fear. The teen felt like he needed to bring along the Foongus... That there was something here for the Foongus that other places couldn't offer. The poor mushroom generally stayed cooped up in the bedroom all day, too scared to leave the safety it provided. So perhaps it was just to give the Foongus a fair taste of adventure? Wisp was always with Austin, so he knew that the Litwick could encourage his fellow Unovan Pokemon when he needed to. Yet he was curious... What fate truly befell this abode?
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Old 05-31-2017, 10:54 PM   #29
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Le Marais Sacré de Celebi
Marécage Noir is shrouded in dark clouds seemingly endlessly, but there is one place for which the sky is always clear: the sacred swamp of Celebi. Though the water is dark with tannins, it doesn't ever seem to stagnate. It's cool to the touch, with a pleasant, earthy smell. Thick trees, seemingly older than time itself, grow from its dark depths, with gnarled trunks and twisty roots which jut up at odd angles. Here, a plethora of Pokémon can be found of all sorts of types; Bug, Flying, Grass, Water -- even some Poison types call this ethereal swamp their home. Named for the Mythical Pokémon Celebi, there is a legend that this area thrives so beautifully in such an otherwise dark and murky place due to the influence of the Time Travel Pokémon, and that causing harm to the sacred swamp will result in bad fortune. Locals often bring offerings of food in respect to the land and to Celebi, hoping for blessings and good favor, and even perhaps a chance to meet Celebi itself. Please reply in SpringGreen.
Having heard of some region of Fizzytopia that vaguely reminded him of home, even if only in the sense that its name was in a language familiar to him, Erven and his pair of pokemon had together decided to set out for this far off swamp. The words called to him, drew him in, "Le Marécage Noir" sounded so nice to him. Erven was perhaps willfully ignorant to the possibly ominous connotations of the name, blinded by a firm sense of homesickness and nostalgia,

Truthfully, he knew next to nothing about this Le Marécage Noir place before they'd arrived, though when they'd reached their destination, he couldn't help but be a little disappointed. He could no longer recall what he had even been expecting to find here, exactly, but, standing shin deep in murky marsh water, the young trainer was certain this wasn't it. "It's not much like Kalos, is it?" Erven asked of Greg, who'd been with him since before they'd ever come to this land. The Squirtle took note of their swampy surroundings and, after a moment, shook his head, echoing his trainer's sentiment. "Yeah..." he sighed, tired from the trek.

"I thought this was supposed to be some kind of sacred swamp? Seems a whole lot more swamp than sacred to me," Erven griped as he dragged his soaking feet through the muck. "You sure we're even in the right place?" he asked his partner, almost hopeful that they'd made a wrong turn and were only in some normal swamp. Greg looked up to the human, though could only offer a shrug. It wasn't as though he had a map, or had even seen one before they decided to come here. Erven groaned, though couldn't blame the Squirtle for being no help. "Well... we better check around, anyway. Maybe we'll get lucky and find some cool pokemon or something..." he muttered, trying to maintain some semblance of optimism.

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Old 05-31-2017, 11:27 PM   #30
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Sandaa:

You nudged the man in hope he would respond. Your worried words must have done something, because the man finally coughed, and then grunted. He slowly moved, his coughing turning to hacking. "P-ple..." he began to cough uncontrollably as he tried rolling onto his side. He lay still for a moment, grabbing his chest and wincing in pain with each cough, tears welling in his eyes. "My ribs... I think they're brok-" He began coughing again, a small trickle of blood beginning to seep out of his mouth. He collected himself and breathed deeply, clutching his chest, cringing. "Okay, okay... I can do this..."

The man slowly sat up, wiping the blood off of his chin. He was completely drenched in mud from the naval down, his shirt torn at the seams. A large gash on his right forearm bled lightly, a loose piece of bloody cloth, clearly from his shirt, tied in a knot around the elbow. The man rubbed his eyes, and began coughing again, this time letting out a squeal in pain. "Oh god, it hurts... I'm sorry, please, I need help," he pleaded. "My," he sputtered, "my bag... with my Pokemon, in the Pokeballs, I’ve lost it..." He lifted his head, locking eyes with you for the first time. His demeanor turned from serious and concerned to one of fear. "It was a monster," he added.

The man sighed. "I know it's hard to believe, but what happened simply wasn't normal," he began to cough again, holding his sides. "My Pokemon..." he choked back tears. "This is all my fault. I'm one of the fools they talk about, I suppose. I just wanted to bring my daughter peace, but... I fear this is all my fault," he said, wiping away tears. "She wanted her ashes to be scattered into the sea by the other side of the mangrove wall, here in Oů les Palétuviers se Rassemblent," he muttered, trying to hold back a cough. "It was her dying wish. We used to hike out here once a year when she was a child and watch the-" he began coughing again. He was obviously in a lot of pain, and his possibly fractured ribs were most likely the cause. "We would watch the sunrise together once a year and feed bread to the schools of fish Pokemon that gathered near the surface of the sea... but that was back when I was a younger, stronger trainer, and could watch over her," he dabbed his eyes with his shirt, spreading dirt across his face. " "When she knew she wasn't long for this world, she asked to be laid to rest in the sea here. And so I granted her that wish, even though my family protested - I suppose their concerns were valid after all."

He grabbed a branch, and attempted to stand up, only to collapse back onto his knees. "The monster. I don't know what it was, but something in the sea - I must have roused something, because when I scattered her ashes, just moments later, something I had never seen before rose out of the sea and attacked me, throwing me against jagged rocks. I dropped my bag, and when I tried to retrieve it, it rose out of the ocean and blasted me with a stream of water. I blacked out after that, and I don't know what happened. I woke up and, I... I'm so dizzy..."

The man collapsed again, still alive, but unconscious. Behind him was a trail of muddy footprints, and most likely, the scent of blood. Leaving him alone in the thick of the wilderness here probably wasn't a good idea. How you choose to move forward - if you choose to move forward - is up to you.




Missingno. Master:

With questions still spinning in your mind about what you had witnessed earlier, as well as wondering where you would be able to pay tribute to the guardian, you decided looking for the forest's residents and caretakers would be your best option.

It didn't take long to reach the small village in the forest. It was a quaint, small town that very clearly respected the natural surroundings it was founded in, looking almost as though it were a naturally formed part of the woods. It was located in an open, meadow-like area, seemingly indicating no trees or wildlife were harmed in its construction, however long ago that may have been. Its walkways were grassy, and the houses and buildings were all made of stone. Walking through its single wooden gate and into the town square felt almost as though you had stepped into a relic of the past.

There weren't many villagers outside, and the few you did pass looked melancholy at best. As was your intent, you approached a villager that had just come out of what you figured was a tavern, and inquired about the flowers, as well as where you could pay tribute to Celebi.

The villager's eyes sagged, and he grimaced. He held a bottle of beer in his hand. It was clear he was intoxicated. "Why dno't yuo go aksh our ALL-KWNOING and suppsoedly brillaint 'MELITTITOLOGISHT' or wahetver shes called... shes gotsh a DEFGREE yuo know... whos knwosh wehre shesh at, and waho caers anyawy..." He seemed aggravated by the thought of the individual he was talking about. "And Shelabi? HA HA. Dnot mae kme laff. Whog ivesh a shit abuotu shome gaurdain taht doest'n geive a shit abuot us?" The man brushed passed you, bumping your shoulder. "Shtupid tourishts... all thye caer abuot ish taht shtuipd pixie BUG..."

It was a bit difficult to understand what the man was saying, but maybe there was something you could do with this information...


134:

Upon being asked, the Houndour summoned forth a Will-o-Wisp. The puppy Pokemon closed its eyes, and a flaming orb manifested in the air to the upper right of the Pokemon, gently bobbing up and down.

The room lit up. Immediately, a few Alolan Rattata squealed and scattered past you, retreating into a large crack in the wall, which was somewhat startling, to say the least. Having taken in your surroundings, you realized that the floor and the walls were old and brick, and the room itself was particularly large as well. Barring some cobwebs, it was also completely empty. However, upon second glance, something did catch your attention after all - there was a large, old, wooden trapdoor embedded into the floor on the other side of the room, a decayed, rusted latch being the only thing that kept it shut.

You turned your gaze away from it for a moment, analyzing your other options. There was a particularly large hole where the wall met the floor. A curved section of the ground that twisted around the edges of the room indicated that this, was in fact, a drain, which - if you had to guess - probably led into a reservoir or a cistern of some kind. The hole was large enough to crawl through, though it didn’t look particularly inviting.

And then of course, there was a doorway; however, there was no door. The light of the Will-o-Wisp extended just barely beyond the length of the room you currently stood in, but from what you could surmise, the room that connected to the one you were currently in was not actually a room, but was, in fact, a long, concrete hall. What’s more, the Will-o-Wisp flickered slightly in the direction opposite the entryway, indicating to you that a gentle breeze was emanating from the potential exit.

You had a few options, none of which included the large hole you had so carelessly fallen through; there was simply no way you were going back the way you came…
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Old 06-01-2017, 12:39 AM   #31
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Le Cimetičre des Cśurs Oublié


Balmund:

A wry smile crosses the woman's delicate features, though it's difficult to say whether she's charmed by your pleasantries or amused by your boorish facade. Placing a delicate hand atop her companion's head, she considers the question, as if she cannot quite recall the answer.

"...Amelie," she says, finally, in a slow and laborious manner as if the name were wighty on her tongue. She looks to the Frosslass with a tired expression, beginning to pet her in a fond manner. "My name is Amelie, Mister Balmund. This, as I as I have mentioned, is Yuki. She is quite the darling, is she not?"

For a moment, she seems lost in her own adoration for her Pokémon, though it does not take long for her attention to return to you. "You have fine taste in Pokémon. My father insisted Ghost-types were unbecoming of a lady, but then... Father said a great deal many things."

Offering Iskra one last pet, she ushers her back to her trainer, wry smile growing more genuine. Whatever peculiarities this strange woman hides, it seems she had bonded with you in this very small way already. Pulling her coat around herself, she contrasts against the white backdrop of snow clad in the brilliant red wool, and she pulls so much focus to herself that you almost fail to notice that the mausoleum from earlier -- the one to which the letter was pinned -- no longer seems to standing to your left despite having been there only minutes ago. Amelie does not seem to notice the sudden disappearance.

"Tell me... Mister Balmund," she continues, tone airy, yet languishing. "What brings you here, tonight?"



A path has closed with the disappearance of the mausoleum, and with this Duke felt certain of at least two things. One, that the letter was indeed meant for him to find, and the other, that its content was now lost to him forever. He wondered what sort of relevance did it have with the appearance of Amelie and Yuki, if at all, though there was no point in dwelling on missed opportunities anymore. Perhaps it was best for now to try and satisfy her curiosity and see where her response would lead. Maybe it could open a window for him to shoot one or two questions of his own, and given the kind of revelations she's indirectly shared already, he had already formulated a few pointed ones of particular interest.

"My motives? I've come here because I heard the story. You know the one. The tragic tale of the two lovers. I wish to pay my respects, and I wish to learn more as well. For selfish reasons, admittedly. I'd say all I want is to mend my own aching heart, but perhaps what I really want is for it to be lost and forgotten. I'm not even sure if that's a jest... would this suffice for an answer?"

Iskra starts to giddily circle the dragon tamer, sensing the sudden swell of delicious bitterness in his chest. It was her favorite as of late. Duke tried his best to mask it, blankly staring back at the red-coated lady as he tried to guage her reaction... yet, that didn't make the emotion any less real.
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Old 06-01-2017, 08:22 PM   #32
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Missingno. Master:

With questions still spinning in your mind about what you had witnessed earlier, as well as wondering where you would be able to pay tribute to the guardian, you decided looking for the forest's residents and caretakers would be your best option.

It didn't take long to reach the small village in the forest. It was a quaint, small town that very clearly respected the natural surroundings it was founded in, looking almost as though it were a naturally formed part of the woods. It was located in an open, meadow-like area, seemingly indicating no trees or wildlife were harmed in its construction, however long ago that may have been. Its walkways were grassy, and the houses and buildings were all made of stone. Walking through its single wooden gate and into the town square felt almost as though you had stepped into a relic of the past.

There weren't many villagers outside, and the few you did pass looked melancholy at best. As was your intent, you approached a villager that had just come out of what you figured was a tavern, and inquired about the flowers, as well as where you could pay tribute to Celebi.

The villager's eyes sagged, and he grimaced. He held a bottle of beer in his hand. It was clear he was intoxicated. "Why dno't yuo go aksh our ALL-KWNOING and suppsoedly brillaint 'MELITTITOLOGISHT' or wahetver shes called... shes gotsh a DEFGREE yuo know... whos knwosh wehre shesh at, and waho caers anyawy..." He seemed aggravated by the thought of the individual he was talking about. "And Shelabi? HA HA. Dnot mae kme laff. Whog ivesh a shit abuotu shome gaurdain taht doest'n geive a shit abuot us?" The man brushed passed you, bumping your shoulder. "Shtupid tourishts... all thye caer abuot ish taht shtuipd pixie BUG..."

It was a bit difficult to understand what the man was saying, but maybe there was something you could do with this information...
It wasn't long before Keith had stumbled upon the small village within the forest. He couldn't help but smile- a charming little town that seemed to have been built with the intention of not harming the forest at all. The buildings were made from stone, the walkways were grassy... it was almost like stepping back in time. Truly a charming town.

Which was more than Keith could say for its residents. He saw few of them, and those that he did see, they had kind of a melancholy air about them. At least, that was what he guessed it to be. Other descriptive terms occurred to him, but melancholy was actually the least negative among them. And then there was the one villager Keith actually did approach- a drunk man who demanded that Keith seek his answers from some sort of "melittitologisht". Whoever it was, he didn't seem very fond of her, Keith noted. Moreover, he seemed to be of the opinion that the villagers shouldn't care about a guardian that doesn't care about them. He walked away, mumbling something about stupid tourists who cared about nothing but that stupid pixie bug.

"...Yeesh," Meowth frowned. "Da place looks nice enough, but da people don't exactly give da best first impression."

"I get what you mean, yeah," Keith nodded. "Hard to understand that guy... well, I mean, it seems like Celebi doesn't actually care much about this place, or at least that's what they perceive it as." He shook his head. "Celebi doesn't seem like the kind of Pokémon to ignore those who need it," he stated. "Maybe something's going on... the guy mentioned something about a melittologist- maybe the answer lies with bee Pokémon?" he speculated out loud.

"Bee Pokémon and flowers kinda go hand in hand," Meowth agreed. "Or... leaf in stinger? I dunno. But yeah- youse might be onta sometin' dere. Where would we find dis melittologist anyways?" he asked.

"Well, let's keep asking around," Keith suggested. "Maybe this time try and find someone a bit less drunk, though," he added with a slight chuckle. He and Meowth continued onward, this time in search of answers to the questions opened up by the drunkard's answers to their previous questions. Who and where was this supposedly brilliant melittologist? What was going on with the flowers? And why did the village and Celebi seem to not have anywhere near the same connection as advertised?
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Old 06-01-2017, 11:37 PM   #33
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Le Cimetičre des Cśurs Oubliés


Balmund:
”I don’t recall having heard such a rumor,” Amelie says, with great sincerity. She blinks at you, with a dull curiosity, and a wry smile plays at her lips; it seems you’ve struck at something. Yuki wraps her arms around her mistress in an eerie manner as Amelie asks, “Are not all ta.es of lovers tragic?”

She sighs, bitterly; it’s unbecoming of a young lady so she sweeps away such behaviors, and pulls Yuki to her bosom, as a girl clutches a doll. She gives you a piteous look, and it seems her demeanor has softened somewhat. “I suppose it doesn’t matter why you are here, Mister Balmund. You shall never leave. It’s a terrible pity you did not dress more warmly. You’ll find a few corpses freshly interred, but I can promise you very little else.”

She sweeps a hand through the air, and it draws the focus away from her, and to your surroundings, where you find the architecture of the cemetery has grown quite thin. It looks as though the graveyard could not be more than thirty years old, its structures new and sparsely spaced, with relatively young trees methodically arranged and meticulously maintained; nothing like the overcrowded and unkempt tangle of morbid debris you had entered. It becomes apparently that Amelie knows something -- perhaps a great deal -- about the strange goings on around you, though she seems genuinely apologetic about them. The dissonance in her behavior is genuinely unsettling.

What will you do?




La Ville des Farceurs et Voleurs


Raves:
You’ve come to the city to find the origins behind a key found within a locked box. Something -- call it intuition -- told you that the answers could be traced back to the City of Jesters and Thieves What will you find? Only time will tell.

It’s the summer solstice and the shortest night of the year. It is unusually quiet on the streets, as if the city itself were afraid of getting caught in the impending sunlight. No one wants to get caught red handed; no one wants to get caught with their sins on display. You make a calm but brisk pace, stopped occasionally only by the authority of a crossing signal. It it as one of these impediments, waiting for the orange ‘YIELD’ light to give way to ‘WALK’ and allow you on your way, that something strange plays out: on the other side of the street, a man in a brown trenchcoat rounds the corner, pulling a little girl by the arm. She looks to be no more than 12 years old, and even from a distance it’s obvious she’s crying. There is a white, unmarked van parked on the curb, roughly fifteen feet from the crosswalk; he shoves her inside. The alphanumeric triad ‘P57’ stands out to you; there was more to it, but you can’t remember. He starts the car and drives away. It takes less than two minutes. In your periphery, a light changes.


YIELD
WALK



What will you do?


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Old 06-02-2017, 12:24 AM   #34
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You nudged the man in hope he would respond. Your worried words must have done something, because the man finally coughed, and then grunted. He slowly moved, his coughing turning to hacking. "P-ple..." he began to cough uncontrollably as he tried rolling onto his side. He lay still for a moment, grabbing his chest and wincing in pain with each cough, tears welling in his eyes. "My ribs... I think they're brok-" He began coughing again, a small trickle of blood beginning to seep out of his mouth. He collected himself and breathed deeply, clutching his chest, cringing. "Okay, okay... I can do this..."

The man slowly sat up, wiping the blood off of his chin. He was completely drenched in mud from the naval down, his shirt torn at the seams. A large gash on his right forearm bled lightly, a loose piece of bloody cloth, clearly from his shirt, tied in a knot around the elbow. The man rubbed his eyes, and began coughing again, this time letting out a squeal in pain. "Oh god, it hurts... I'm sorry, please, I need help," he pleaded. "My," he sputtered, "my bag... with my Pokemon, in the Pokeballs, I’ve lost it..." He lifted his head, locking eyes with you for the first time. His demeanor turned from serious and concerned to one of fear. "It was a monster," he added.

The man sighed. "I know it's hard to believe, but what happened simply wasn't normal," he began to cough again, holding his sides. "My Pokemon..." he choked back tears. "This is all my fault. I'm one of the fools they talk about, I suppose. I just wanted to bring my daughter peace, but... I fear this is all my fault," he said, wiping away tears. "She wanted her ashes to be scattered into the sea by the other side of the mangrove wall, here in Oů les Palétuviers se Rassemblent," he muttered, trying to hold back a cough. "It was her dying wish. We used to hike out here once a year when she was a child and watch the-" he began coughing again. He was obviously in a lot of pain, and his possibly fractured ribs were most likely the cause. "We would watch the sunrise together once a year and feed bread to the schools of fish Pokemon that gathered near the surface of the sea... but that was back when I was a younger, stronger trainer, and could watch over her," he dabbed his eyes with his shirt, spreading dirt across his face. " "When she knew she wasn't long for this world, she asked to be laid to rest in the sea here. And so I granted her that wish, even though my family protested - I suppose their concerns were valid after all."

He grabbed a branch, and attempted to stand up, only to collapse back onto his knees. "The monster. I don't know what it was, but something in the sea - I must have roused something, because when I scattered her ashes, just moments later, something I had never seen before rose out of the sea and attacked me, throwing me against jagged rocks. I dropped my bag, and when I tried to retrieve it, it rose out of the ocean and blasted me with a stream of water. I blacked out after that, and I don't know what happened. I woke up and, I... I'm so dizzy..."

The man collapsed again, still alive, but unconscious. Behind him was a trail of muddy footprints, and most likely, the scent of blood. Leaving him alone in the thick of the wilderness here probably wasn't a good idea. How you choose to move forward - if you choose to move forward - is up to you.
Gary watched nervously as the man roused from unconsciousness, coughing and sputtering while holding his various injuries. His arm was bleeding and the man mentioned some broken ribs, not a good sign. The man continued to stammer about his deceased daughter’s ashes through sobs and told Gary about a monster that came out of the water and attacked him. Gary bit his lip, obviously feeling bad for the man, but was more interested in the man not pushing himself too hard with these injuries.

“My bag… My Pokemon…” the man wheezed, claiming that he lost them when the monster attacked him. “Easy, easy,” Gary replied, trying to console the man, “I’ll see what I can do about finding them; just for now take it easy and don’t stress your injuries.” His advice went in vain as the distraught man attempted to stand up with the help of a stick, only to have his legs give out and he fell back into unconsciousness. Gary was in a tough place here. He could try and help the man back to town, but without stabilizing his body he could make the injury worse. He couldn’t quite just leave the man like this either, but it might be his best bet.

The least Gary could do was pull the unconscious man out of the mud and set him in a more comfortable and secured position. He quickly called Shuri the Ninjask back into her Pokeball and pulled out another, sending out his Golduck, Kratos. “Kratos, we’re in a bit of a pinch here. Can you use your Psychic to carefully lift this man? Let’s set him down against some mangrove roots with a slight incline to support his body.” Kratos nodded and closed his eyes, the gem on his forehead glistening. Gary then looked at the muddy path before them where there were a trail of footprints. Once the man was stable, he would take a quick peek down the trail without straying too far to see if he could find the man’s belongings and be on guard for whatever might pop out.
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Old 06-02-2017, 01:58 PM   #35
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Le Cimetičre des Cśurs Oubliés


Balmund:
”I don’t recall having heard such a rumor,” Amelie says, with great sincerity. She blinks at you, with a dull curiosity, and a wry smile plays at her lips; it seems you’ve struck at something. Yuki wraps her arms around her mistress in an eerie manner as Amelie asks, “Are not all ta.es of lovers tragic?”

She sighs, bitterly; it’s unbecoming of a young lady so she sweeps away such behaviors, and pulls Yuki to her bosom, as a girl clutches a doll. She gives you a piteous look, and it seems her demeanor has softened somewhat. “I suppose it doesn’t matter why you are here, Mister Balmund. You shall never leave. It’s a terrible pity you did not dress more warmly. You’ll find a few corpses freshly interred, but I can promise you very little else.”

She sweeps a hand through the air, and it draws the focus away from her, and to your surroundings, where you find the architecture of the cemetery has grown quite thin. It looks as though the graveyard could not be more than thirty years old, its structures new and sparsely spaced, with relatively young trees methodically arranged and meticulously maintained; nothing like the overcrowded and unkempt tangle of morbid debris you had entered. It becomes apparently that Amelie knows something -- perhaps a great deal -- about the strange goings on around you, though she seems genuinely apologetic about them. The dissonance in her behavior is genuinely unsettling.

What will you do?
Duke observantly turned side to side as he witnessed the graveyard revert back to a state less worn by the passing of time, and less cluttered by the housings of the dead. His eyes narrowed; it was exactly as it was forshadowed by the picture earlier, and he wondered if any, if not all of this, was the Frosslass's doing. Amelie's words echoes in his head, what exactly did she mean when she said he would never be able to leave, or, perhaps most importantly, why? Rather than jump into conclusions, perhaps it was wisest to try and draw out more answers in order to paint a clearer picture. He wasn't sure how much time he would have left in this regards.

"If by spending the rest of my days here means to bask in the presence of your beauty for eternity, then I suppose worser fates could've befallen upon me." Duke returned the same wry smile as he made light of the increasingly growing direness of his situation, always looking for a silver lining in front of adversity. His demeanor shortly turned into a more serious as he addressed her once again. If anyone would know exactly what was going on, it had to be her. Her body language did not go unnoticed by the dragon tamer, who wondered what was she feeling sorry about, better yet, why was she carrying on regardless. "I believe the very least I could ask right now is for a proper explanation, don't you think? Lady Amelie, tell me truly, what is happening right now?"
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Old 06-03-2017, 05:07 PM   #36
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La Ville des Farceurs et Voleurs


Raves:
You’ve come to the city to find the origins behind a key found within a locked box. Something -- call it intuition -- told you that the answers could be traced back to the City of Jesters and Thieves What will you find? Only time will tell.

It’s the summer solstice and the shortest night of the year. It is unusually quiet on the streets, as if the city itself were afraid of getting caught in the impending sunlight. No one wants to get caught red handed; no one wants to get caught with their sins on display. You make a calm but brisk pace, stopped occasionally only by the authority of a crossing signal. It it as one of these impediments, waiting for the orange ‘YIELD’ light to give way to ‘WALK’ and allow you on your way, that something strange plays out: on the other side of the street, a man in a brown trenchcoat rounds the corner, pulling a little girl by the arm. She looks to be no more than 12 years old, and even from a distance it’s obvious she’s crying. There is a white, unmarked van parked on the curb, roughly fifteen feet from the crosswalk; he shoves her inside. The alphanumeric triad ‘P57’ stands out to you; there was more to it, but you can’t remember. He starts the car and drives away. It takes less than two minutes. In your periphery, a light changes.


YIELD
WALK



What will you do?


The solstice.

Whether through the scientific explanation of the planet's closest position to the sun, the Arceist teachings of the dance of the Volcarona under the Original One's many arms, or the old Alolan tale of the Day of Ula'Ula's Song, where those who followed the Land Spirit Tapu Bulu offer the island their tending services for the hopes of a good harvest, the solstice was a revered time of the year. Indeed, the very sun appeared to have kept the sinful at bay, the long day providing much light over the hours for revellers. No scoundrel of any format was stopping her in her search, only the creation of man, in the form of a road crossing.

The woman, in waiting with the Mawile, caught sight of something that seemed highly unsavoury to her. A man in a trenchcoat, dragging a crying girl by the arm, poor thing mustn't be older than twelve, around a corner. He hauls her to a van, white and unmarked, classic mystery vehicle, and shoves her into the back. The number plate, she doesn't fully notice, but P-five-seven stands out, for some reason. The man enters the vehicle, he drives off, in the space of two minutes. In her periphery vision, the sidewalk's signal changes. Walk.

The Mawile gazes up at her with his emerald oculars. She stares down at him, the pair communicating with eye contact. The Mawile seems slightly concerned, the woman not so much. In a wretched hive such as this, kidnappings would be uncommon, but not rare, and what was to say the man wasn't trying to get her out of trouble? The Deceiver frowns, he admits the woman is correct, but motioning across the street, he feels the pair should follow, even if the vehicle is long gone. The woman, with no other plan of action, agrees, with a slight air of reluctance. She was after information on the key, not to play heroines and villains with some trenchcoat-wearing muggle. However, she had no leads other than the city, so admitted they may as well head in the same direction as the van, while taking a mental note of the number in her head. If push came to shove and the pair ended up in trouble, she was certain the steel fairy could muscle through whatever adversity.
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Old 06-04-2017, 11:33 AM   #37
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Upon being asked, the Houndour summoned forth a Will-o-Wisp. The puppy Pokemon closed its eyes, and a flaming orb manifested in the air to the upper right of the Pokemon, gently bobbing up and down.

The room lit up. Immediately, a few Alolan Rattata squealed and scattered past you, retreating into a large crack in the wall, which was somewhat startling, to say the least. Having taken in your surroundings, you realized that the floor and the walls were old and brick, and the room itself was particularly large as well. Barring some cobwebs, it was also completely empty. However, upon second glance, something did catch your attention after all - there was a large, old, wooden trapdoor embedded into the floor on the other side of the room, a decayed, rusted latch being the only thing that kept it shut.

You turned your gaze away from it for a moment, analyzing your other options. There was a particularly large hole where the wall met the floor. A curved section of the ground that twisted around the edges of the room indicated that this, was in fact, a drain, which - if you had to guess - probably led into a reservoir or a cistern of some kind. The hole was large enough to crawl through, though it didn’t look particularly inviting.

And then of course, there was a doorway; however, there was no door. The light of the Will-o-Wisp extended just barely beyond the length of the room you currently stood in, but from what you could surmise, the room that connected to the one you were currently in was not actually a room, but was, in fact, a long, concrete hall. What’s more, the Will-o-Wisp flickered slightly in the direction opposite the entryway, indicating to you that a gentle breeze was emanating from the potential exit.

You had a few options, none of which included the large hole you had so carelessly fallen through; there was simply no way you were going back the way you came…


Tate breathed a sigh of relief as the room was illuminated; being about to see was a huge step in the right direction. Looking around, the trainer took stock of their situation, making note of their options. Ahead of them was a doorway, which Tate assumed was the way out. Feeling more secure based on this assumption, the naturalist no longer felt the immediate urgency to get out, and began exploring the rest of the room a bit; there was what appeared to be an old sewage drain -- gross -- and, oh... how fascinating. Was that a door in the floor? With Pouli close by, Tate approached the wooden hatch, curiosity piqued. It was latched closed, but there wasn't even a padlock on the thing.

"... wanna check it out?" Tate asked the Houndour. Pouli was reluctant; the fall had been rough, and she wanted to go home and lick her wounds, but her trainer had a mischievous glint in those blue eyes, and there wasn't much arguing. She whined, resigned, as her trainer knealt down and tried to open the aged and decrepit latch.

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Old 06-05-2017, 01:41 AM   #38
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Le Cimetičre des Cœurs Oubliés
They call it the Graveyard of Forgotten Hearts, and very few dare to visit it these days. A few miles outside of the city proper, it was once the place where most of the citizens of Marécage Noir interred their dead -- until the tragedy. One night two young lovers stuck into the cemetery and -- burdened by the knowledge that their feuding families would never give blessing to their union -- hung themselves in the branches of the largest tree on the grounds. Now abandoned and derelict, it serves as little more than a horrible reminder to the people who call Marécage Noir home. The gates stand unlocked and the graves, all of them above ground in family mausoleums, are mostly unkempt and abandoned. Ghost-type Pokémon are drawn to the despair which permeates these grounds, and some even say the heartbroken couple still wanders, looking for the peace never afforded to them in life. Please reply in DarkRed.
A graveyard of restless souls... It should yield saisfying results.

Nothing about the northern wetlands was inviting, and it had taken him no small amount of inner debating before settling on this destination. Rorik had spent the majority of his life within the confines of his precious lab, so for the Professor to willingly venture onto a supposedly-haunted cemetery, it took considerable courage. Even if logic dictated that there should be no such thing as lingering spirits and vengeful souls, there was still something intangible about the supernatural that the man of science much preferred to leave untapped.

And yet, I must. In the name of progress!

As this gargantuan inner struggle took place, a far more laidback creature merrily made his way around the countless unkempt gravestones scattered around the area - Gottfried' Munchlax, a gift from the Heimlan Champion to the novice Professor, dutifully zig-zagged around the burial sites in search for food, unaware of the place's spiritual significance and thoroughly uncaring about silly things such as "upsetting the dead". Rorik sighed; he couldn't possibly imagine what it was like to live life with such reckless abandon.

Might as well leave him be. He listens to nobody when he's hungry... Now, to begin my research! Ruling hypothesis: Pokémon who haven't experienced powerful bonds in life have a higher likelihood of lingering as resentful Ghosts.

A chilly breeze swept across the Graveyard as he prepared to begin his investigation. A decidedly unnatural gust of wind charged with more than moving molecules - there was an eerie energy about that even someone as level-headed and analytical as Professor Rorik Pine could not ignore. Was this some sort of omen? Maybe some truths were best left unearthed...
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Old 06-05-2017, 08:00 PM   #39
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Kawaii: Everything happened so quickly, you barely even got a proper chance to react as dear sweet Tengu was snatched from your arms. You could only ponder as to why the Croagunk would want him. Perhaps it had malicious intent, or... maybe it was actually trying to help you further your goal of restoring the young Seedot back to normal. Whatever the case was, you had to find Tengu, and fast. Your heart was pounding quickly, making your ears ring and your legs feel weak as you charged off in the direction you believed them to have gone to. Perhaps if the Croagunk actually had a good heart, as well as good intentions for Tengu; it would earn itself a spot on your team. Although at this moment, it was certainly difficult to say what was about to transpire once the kidnapper was caught.

Your other two Pokemon had suddenly taken on a serious air to themselves, they quickened their paces, running as fast as they could to keep up with you. Your Deerling made it look so effortless, while your Senret darted between the trees, scanning the area ahead long before you could ever get a proper look at it. Obviously, they too were concerned about their friend and teammate being snatched up right in front of them. They would do anything in their power to protect something that their trainer cared about, and seeing her so distraught certainly would not do.

----------------------------

Tengu sat idly in the Croagunk's arms as it carried him through the thick underbrush of the swamp. He had no idea where he was going, and he had no physical way of actually escaping from the Pokemon's clutches. He sighed, he supposed he would have to put up with it for now. Hopefully his trainer would find him soon, rescuing him from this odd Pokemon. Tengu had felt like they had been walking forever, when suddenly the Croagunk shifted away some leaves from a fallen tree trunk and moved himself inside. Tengu glanced around, the place was seemingly like that of a home, many makeshift beds made of straw and leaves lined the floors.

You didn't have to ponder why there were so many for long, as dozens of other grass types slowly came out from the shadows. An Oddish in particular eyed Tengu closely, looking over him with prying eyes.

"Welcome home, Seedot!" They all cheered in Pokemon speak. Tengu was bewildered as to what was going on. Had he just been indited into some sort of cult? Where were all these Pokemon's trainers? He had so many questions dancing through his mind.

"We're the Celebi Squad!" The Oddish chimed in, "We grab suffering Pokemon from trainers and bring them here for protection." At that moment, Tengu realised that they had it all wrong. His blackened eyes must've made them believe that he was in poor care, and that he needed to be rescued. He only wished he could form the words to tell them as such, as they got closer to him and cheered for his freedom.

Tengu can't do anything to save himself, but you most certainly can. What will you do?



Morningstar: The graveyard of Forgotten Hearts as it was formally known, a once cherished location where the locals would bury their deceased ancestors was now in total and utter disarray. The darkness, as well as the bleak appearance of the graveyard contrasted greatly with your mostly pink attire --- Not that you seemed to notice or mind. The story behind the location you were heading to made your heart flutter, that poor couple had never gotten the chance to be together because of their parents and ultimately took their own lives. It was moving, to say the least, you even shed a few tears as you became engrossed in the story. Your Mawile didn't share your sentiments, she was just looking forward to an adventure through a graveyard, it was probably going to be absolutely thrilling! As well as filled to the brim with ghost types that she could gain a few levels on.

The graveyard itself was certainly not what one would picture. The flowers surrounding the graves were rotting and turning to ash, it was obvious that the place had not received proper care in quite some time. You had brought some fresh flowers in the hopes of actually honouring a particular grave, it would be weird to just approach a graveyard with nothing but explorers intent. However, the bleakness of the location really dragged you down, making you wonder if you even wanted to progress forward.

Continuing your walk through the dreary graveyard, almost feeling the sadness in every step you took. Why had you chosen to visit a place like this? You most certainly hadn't pictured it to be, well, exactly like what you were currently observing. You sighed, glancing around for something to take your mind off of the bleakness of the location. You noticed what looked to be a light in the distance, that seemed particularly odd, as you were quite convinced that you were the only one here. The light is certainly odd, perhaps it would be wise to investigate? What do you do?



Patches: The chilliness of the room chilled you to your very core. You couldn't place why it was so cold in here, maybe it was faulty insulation in this room? Whatever the case, you really wish you had brought a jacket or sweater to wear. Luckily, your mind is able to brush off the cold as you finally find exactly what you were looking for in this manor --- the source of that putrid smell! The bag of incense smelt so awful, you pitied the owners for attempting to use such a terrible smelling object in an attempt to freshen their house. Hadn't they heard of febreeze or other air freshening products? You shrug it off, rummaging through your things and shoving the horrible smelling incense into an airlocked container inside your bag. That solves the problem of where that smell was coming from, but it doesn't quite dispel the smell entirely. You think for a few moments before placing a mint down in the spot the bag had been, if they made your breath extra minty there was hope that they could make this musty room minty as well.

When you finally stand and adjust yourself, you notice the painting upon the wall. Weird, had that always been here? You can't figure out why you wouldn't have noticed such a realistic depiction of a Pokemon. It was a little crooked, and the perfectionist inside of you most certainly wanted to fix it but the room was extremely dusty and disgusting. You promised yourself that you would do it as soon as you were able to clean the dust from the rest of the room, as soon as you found your trusty napkins that was. Rummaging through your pack, you realise almost all your napkins are gone, but you could've sworn you had a whole bunch more. You notice your Eevee had made himself a nice nest of napkins that he was now snoozing in, you wanted to scold him but his cute exterior made you think twice --- how could you get mad at something that adorable? It was almost impossible.

As you pick up your pack, you realise that you may as well just adjust the painting anyways, considering you have no possible way to clean the dust and grime from the rest of the room. As you move the painting, making sure it's straight, you hear the low growling once more. It certainly sounds a lot closer this time, almost as though whatever is making it is quite close to you. As you're about to brush it off, a loud hiss permeates from the painting and a large, black, clawed hand extends from inside the frame; swiping at your body. The hissing gets gradually louder, causing the walls to feel like they're shaking and warping all around you. The door to the room slams itself, and the only source of light in the room flickers out. It's just you, your Pokemon, and that weird painting now. In the darkness of the room, the gem encrusted eyes of the Pokemon in the portrait seem to glow brightly. It illuminates an outline in the floor that you hadn't noticed before, it appeared as though there was some sort of trap door in the floor.

The hissing had quieted down, but after swiping at you, the portraits smile has faded. Should you go into this trap door you have found, despite not knowing where it leads? What do you do?


Lit: The Manor of Lies, why had you felt drawn to such a place? The air felt heavily oppressive, almost as if walking through such a place was going to suck the very life out of you. Your body felt like it desperately wanted to come here, as if some memory buried deep was forcing you to trudge through the winding hallways of the mansion. Your Litwick, usually filled with more life in such a location, a place where he could feast uninterrupted, seemed withdrawn, even it's usually bright flame seemed to dim in the dank hallways. The Foongus in your arms shook in fear, was it really wise to bring the usually sheltered Pokemon to a place such as this? You weren't really sure of the answer, but you hoped that your Litwick's support would be enough to encourage the timid Foongus to liven up his life with a little adventure. You were curious what had actually happened here... why this mansion was the way it was, and more importantly why dark types were drawn here in such numbers.

As you walked down one of the numerous expansive halls in the mansion, you found yourself drawn to a particular room. Despite the mansion being dark and seemingly devoid of life, you swore you could smell a roast cooking from this direction. Maybe it was just your mind playing tricks on you, maybe you were just hungry and dreaming about food --- but your curiosity had gotten the better of you. You walked in the direction the smell was coming from, which lead you into what looked to be a dining hall. The table held twelve chairs, all lavishly decorated with red cusions. Each placement at the table was set, holding chipped and grimy plates and rusted silverware. It was as though the manor itself was waiting for a dinner that never seemed to arrive. There was a candlestick in the centre of the table, it's three candles had been dead for quite some time, the wax had torn through the once beautiful floral table cloth. It was haunting to see such a scene, had the dinner guests left in a hurry? Or was this set specifically for an occasion that never occurred? Innumerable questions ran through your head as you attempted to figure out why.

You hear the door from beyond the table open, the one that presumably leads to the kitchen. You glance over quickly, wondering if it had weak hinges and had just blown open... and that's when you notice her. A young woman in a maid outfit, her hair is long and black; done into a ponytail. She seems slightly startled when she notices you, her eyes look tired, a pale blue that reflects little emotion.

"Oh... hello." She said, giving a small curtsy. "I didn't hear you come in, would you like some refreshments while you wait for master to come home?" You look at the girl, confused. You had heard this house was abandoned, who was this master she was referring to? Should you accept her offer? What do you do?
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Old 06-06-2017, 06:52 PM   #40
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Originally Posted by Naruxami View Post
[SIZE="1"]Kawaii: Everything happened so quickly, you barely even got a proper chance to react as dear sweet Tengu was snatched from your arms. You could only ponder as to why the Croagunk would want him. Perhaps it had malicious intent, or... maybe it was actually trying to help you further your goal of restoring the young Seedot back to normal. Whatever the case was, you had to find Tengu, and fast. Your heart was pounding quickly, making your ears ring and your legs feel weak as you charged off in the direction you believed them to have gone to. Perhaps if the Croagunk actually had a good heart, as well as good intentions for Tengu; it would earn itself a spot on your team. Although at this moment, it was certainly difficult to say what was about to transpire once the kidnapper was caught.

Your other two Pokemon had suddenly taken on a serious air to themselves, they quickened their paces, running as fast as they could to keep up with you. Your Deerling made it look so effortless, while your Senret darted between the trees, scanning the area ahead long before you could ever get a proper look at it. Obviously, they too were concerned about their friend and teammate being snatched up right in front of them. They would do anything in their power to protect something that their trainer cared about, and seeing her so distraught certainly would not do.

----------------------------

Tengu sat idly in the Croagunk's arms as it carried him through the thick underbrush of the swamp. He had no idea where he was going, and he had no physical way of actually escaping from the Pokemon's clutches. He sighed, he supposed he would have to put up with it for now. Hopefully his trainer would find him soon, rescuing him from this odd Pokemon. Tengu had felt like they had been walking forever, when suddenly the Croagunk shifted away some leaves from a fallen tree trunk and moved himself inside. Tengu glanced around, the place was seemingly like that of a home, many makeshift beds made of straw and leaves lined the floors.

You didn't have to ponder why there were so many for long, as dozens of other grass types slowly came out from the shadows. An Oddish in particular eyed Tengu closely, looking over him with prying eyes.

"Welcome home, Seedot!" They all cheered in Pokemon speak. Tengu was bewildered as to what was going on. Had he just been indited into some sort of cult? Where were all these Pokemon's trainers? He had so many questions dancing through his mind.

"We're the Celebi Squad!" The Oddish chimed in, "We grab suffering Pokemon from trainers and bring them here for protection." At that moment, Tengu realised that they had it all wrong. His blackened eyes must've made them believe that he was in poor care, and that he needed to be rescued. He only wished he could form the words to tell them as such, as they got closer to him and cheered for his freedom.

Tengu can't do anything to save himself, but you most certainly can. What will you do?



Kawaii rushed to the scene of this nest and stopped. She stayed hidden in the bushes and crouched by her two ccompanions. They were now her only key to getting her precious pokemon back. She addressed them, "go in there and convince them of the truth. Do not lie and do not pretend. That has failed way to many times."
Her sentret and deerling nodded and emerged from the bushes. DTM made her way in first and listened for a bit before speaking up. "What if it is not the trainer's fault that the pokemon is hurt."
At the very presence of his friends, life stirred in the empty shell of of her acorn pokemon. "It...is true...My...trainer did...not...do this...to...me...I was...in...the proscess... of...being traded...when...one of...the ...previous elite...four...interupted the...trade...my soul...was...already out...of...my body...and...it discipated...when...the machine...was...forced open." he gasped out. Despite the slow nature of his speach, the grass-type was able to hold the attention of the pokemon in the grassy cave. Oisín's jaw dropped wide open as Tengu slowly got to his feet.
[i]"My...trainer only seeks...to help...me be the...best pokemon...I can be."[i] The seedot said confidantly. the nature of the forest wrapping around him and strengthenining him That is...why my trainer...brought me here...to have the great...magic of Celebi...make me stronger"
It seemed that that was already happening as his voice got more confidant. The grass type was able to stribg more and more words togeather without pausing for breath.
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Old 06-06-2017, 07:32 PM   #41
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Originally Posted by Naruxami View Post
Morningstar: The graveyard of Forgotten Hearts as it was formally known, a once cherished location where the locals would bury their deceased ancestors was now in total and utter disarray. The darkness, as well as the bleak appearance of the graveyard contrasted greatly with your mostly pink attire --- Not that you seemed to notice or mind. The story behind the location you were heading to made your heart flutter, that poor couple had never gotten the chance to be together because of their parents and ultimately took their own lives. It was moving, to say the least, you even shed a few tears as you became engrossed in the story. Your Mawile didn't share your sentiments, she was just looking forward to an adventure through a graveyard, it was probably going to be absolutely thrilling! As well as filled to the brim with ghost types that she could gain a few levels on.

The graveyard itself was certainly not what one would picture. The flowers surrounding the graves were rotting and turning to ash, it was obvious that the place had not received proper care in quite some time. You had brought some fresh flowers in the hopes of actually honouring a particular grave, it would be weird to just approach a graveyard with nothing but explorers intent. However, the bleakness of the location really dragged you down, making you wonder if you even wanted to progress forward.

Continuing your walk through the dreary graveyard, almost feeling the sadness in every step you took. Why had you chosen to visit a place like this? You most certainly hadn't pictured it to be, well, exactly like what you were currently observing. You sighed, glancing around for something to take your mind off of the bleakness of the location. You noticed what looked to be a light in the distance, that seemed particularly odd, as you were quite convinced that you were the only one here. The light is certainly odd, perhaps it would be wise to investigate? What do you do?


Athena drooped as she walked along the path of the graveyard. If it even could be called a path. It was overgrown with shrubs and weeds that she had to be careful not to trip on. She passed a cluster of gravestones, but the names on them were too faded with age to read. Eclair kept close, a small hand holding the edge of her trainer's skirt. This was more for Athena's own good than anything, the Steel/Fairy type wanted to make sure she could protect the girl at a moment's notice.

Athena scanned the area, heaving with a sigh. She wondered if this trip was going to be eventful at all. Maybe she should have gone to La Ville instead. At least there she could go indoors and not have to be out in the cold. She suddenly found her attention drawn to something. A far off light, just bright enough to notice. Her spirits lifted instantly. Something interesting!

"Eclair, you see that?" Athena said in a low voice to her Pokemon. Eclair, who had been suspiciously eyeing some bushes that had rustled in the wind, looked toward the direction Athena was pointing. "That's weird right? Let's check it out."

Eclair squinted as she tried to see the light more clearly, focusing too much to listen to what her trainer was saying. It wasn't until she realized Athena had left her side that she understood what her trainer was doing. Scrambling, she quickly caught up to her and tugged frantically on her skirt.

"What?" Athena looked down at Eclair shaking her head. "It's fine 'clair, come on!" The trainer bent down and picked Eclair up, much to her protesting, and continued on her way. Eclair accepted her fate and clung tight to Athena's sweatshirt, worried what the light had in store for them.

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Old 06-06-2017, 10:18 PM   #42
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La Ville des Farceurs et Voleurs

Raves:
You cross the street, torn between your indifference towards the suffering of man, and the Mawile's pity. It isn't as though the van isn't long gone by now anyway, and therefor only so much your problem, and so you walk with only vague and noncommittal plans to do anything about what you've seen. There is trash gathering in the gutters, you notice, as you cross the road under the orange glow of streetlamps.

While by no means cold, it is a cooler evening than might be expected for this time of year. On the opposite corner, you find a girl's plaid flannel button-up lying on the concrete sidewalk. You hadn't noticed the child wearing it, but the wrists are still looped together, as if it had been tied around her waist. Perhaps she had dropped it in the struggle? You don't have much time to determine if the item is worth your attention, however, because you find yourself right outside of a bar, and no sooner do you happen upon the sweater does the front door swing open; a man being ejected violently by a bouncer's Mienshao. He hits the pavement violently, six inches from the toes of your boots, and rolls. Rising up on his elbows, he rips a Pokéball from his belt. The bouncer -- a man with blonde hair and a sandy goatee -- arrives in time to be blinded by the brilliant white light of a Pangoro materializing there on the street. Looking for a fight, the irate customer is on his feet now, spitting out a mouthful of blood.

It lands on your shoe.

What will you do?




Le Cimetičre des Cœurs Oubliés

Balmund:
"You are a terribly forward man," Amelie complains, and for a brief moment she seems a touch less sorry about your fate. Pulling away from Yuki, she motions around you, to the cemetery; the sky above you grows dark rapidly, and the snow stops falling, everything growing still. Only the moonlight and your footsteps in the snow break the purity of the dark and motionless night. Yuki begins to giggle in that eerie way again, the sound like cracks spreading through a frozen lake. Amelie looks tired. "This, mister Balmund, is the day on which I died."

Her tone is straightforward. She looks at her watch, though what she hopes to see in this darkness is anyone's guess. Yuki clasps her hands together under her glacial chin, hollow body swaying in the winter wind.

"It's shortly after six o' clock in the morning," she informs you, with a jarring sense of practicality. "And soon the sun will rise. Every morning, the sun rises a bit after six-thirty. Breakfast is at seven. Tea is at eleven. The Thomas family buries their daughter at two in the afternoon. I attend dinner with my fiance at 6:45pm. At 10:27pm, my heart stops -- I die of exposure. And then I wake up here again, at 6 o'clock in the morning, for longer than I can remember."

She pauses, and looks at Yuki, and then at you. She laughs, small and contrived. "I think this is hell-!"

It takes her a moment to compose herself, during which she continues to giggle, the situation so tragic it has become funny, if only as a matter of self-preservation. How she hasn't gone mad under the circumstances is beyond anyone's guess; who's to say she hasn't? She seems stable, however, if not a tad eccentric. She claims, however, that you're in her personal hell. What will you do?
Maskerade:
The graveyard is densely overgrown, and densely packed with mausoleums, around and between which you and Munchlax weave, you with trepidation and he with hungry determination. The site is quite verdant and were it not for the eerie reputation and cloying fog it might even be beautiful;
moss grows on the stone surfaces of crypts and in the crevices of tree bark,
while flowering vines find purchase seemingly everywhere.

Passing by a large tree -- a thick, ancient Apricorn tree -- you take note of something peculiar: an arrow, driven into its trunk about ten feet above your head. It has a wooden shaft and large, green leaves for fletching; when you notice it, it strikes you as highly unusual, but it blends in with the foliage around it, and you're afraid that if you looked away from it for too long, you might not be able to find it again in the surrounding greenery.

A few yards away from where you stand, looking up at the arrow, Munchlax has found something of interest, however. Head shoved into an overgrown Bluk Berry bush, he roots loudly through the leaves, seemingly oblivious to the fat, ripe berries around him; whatever he's trying to reach but be more interesting than mere fruit. Is it more interesting than the odd arrow? Should you risk it? What will you do?


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Old 06-06-2017, 11:13 PM   #43
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Le Cimetičre des Cśurs Oubliés

Balmund:
"You are a terribly forward man," Amelie complains, and for a brief moment she seems a touch less sorry about your fate. Pulling away from Yuki, she motions around you, to the cemetery; the sky above you grows dark rapidly, and the snow stops falling, everything growing still. Only the moonlight and your footsteps in the snow break the purity of the dark and motionless night. Yuki begins to giggle in that eerie way again, the sound like cracks spreading through a frozen lake. Amelie looks tired. "This, mister Balmund, is the day on which I died."

Her tone is straightforward. She looks at her watch, though what she hopes to see in this darkness is anyone's guess. Yuki clasps her hands together under her glacial chin, hollow body swaying in the winter wind.

"It's shortly after six o' clock in the morning," she informs you, with a jarring sense of practicality. "And soon the sun will rise. Every morning, the sun rises a bit after six-thirty. Breakfast is at seven. Tea is at eleven. The Thomas family buries their daughter at two in the afternoon. I attend dinner with my fiance at 6:45pm. At 10:27pm, my heart stops -- I die of exposure. And then I wake up here again, at 6 o'clock in the morning, for longer than I can remember."

She pauses, and looks at Yuki, and then at you. She laughs, small and contrived. "I think this is hell-!"

It takes her a moment to compose herself, during which she continues to giggle, the situation so tragic it has become funny, if only as a matter of self-preservation. How she hasn't gone mad under the circumstances is beyond anyone's guess; who's to say she hasn't? She seems stable, however, if not a tad eccentric. She claims, however, that you're in her personal hell. What will you do?


Duke maintained his trademark poker face as Amelie tried her best to supress her laughing fit. His reaction wasn't out of lack of sympathy. In truth, he could hardly imagine how painful and maddening reliving one's own dying day over and over again would be. For how many years, nay, decades, has this been going on? And yet, if he wanted to remain objectively useful and capable, either for her or for himself, he couldn't allow himself to be clouded by an emotional lens, and to be seen as such either.

He had listened attentively to her tale, and tried in the process to make mental note of some of the relevant implications it had in regards with his situation. Firstly, it was implied that he had a fixed timeframe to work on, starting now, until the time of Amelie's untimely demise at 10:27 p.m. It's uncertain what would happen afterwards, but given what she had said earlier regarding there being no escape, he figured his fate was probably linked to hers until then. That in turn also raised the question on whether or not there had been other ones before him, and what had happened during prior instances if they had. He wasn't sure if he should ask about that, but perhaps more clues could be found later on. Lastly, there was that significant gap in time between dinnertime with her fiance and her death by "exposure". A lot could happen in nearly four hours, and perhaps it was this timeframe that was most critical in relationship with her curse. The means of death in relationship with the current wheather did not escape Duke's notice, though he figured it wouldn't be as simple to avoid.

All things considered, Duke takes a a quick glance at Iskra before turning back to the rose-clad woman, waiting for her to compose herself before asking an inquiry most obvious and expected. "M'lady, how can we be of help?"
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Old 06-08-2017, 11:38 AM   #44
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Maskerade:
The graveyard is densely overgrown, and densely packed with mausoleums, around and between which you and Munchlax weave, you with trepidation and he with hungry determination. The site is quite verdant and were it not for the eerie reputation and cloying fog it might even be beautiful;
moss grows on the stone surfaces of crypts and in the crevices of tree bark,
while flowering vines find purchase seemingly everywhere.

Passing by a large tree -- a thick, ancient Apricorn tree -- you take note of something peculiar: an arrow, driven into its trunk about ten feet above your head. It has a wooden shaft and large, green leaves for fletching; when you notice it, it strikes you as highly unusual, but it blends in with the foliage around it, and you're afraid that if you looked away from it for too long, you might not be able to find it again in the surrounding greenery.

A few yards away from where you stand, looking up at the arrow, Munchlax has found something of interest, however. Head shoved into an overgrown Bluk Berry bush, he roots loudly through the leaves, seemingly oblivious to the fat, ripe berries around him; whatever he's trying to reach but be more interesting than mere fruit. Is it more interesting than the odd arrow? Should you risk it? What will you do?
((Thank you for picking me up 134!! ^^))

Well, I’ll be... This can’t possibly be a good omen.

Inherent to his profession, Rorik was both observant and capable of quick assessment. What others would have easily missed – or dismissed – as natural part of their surroundings, the Professor swiftly identified as a foreign object, albeit smartly concealed.

This arrow was intentionally camouflaged. Whoever fired it knew what they were doing; if another comes flying through, will I even be able to spot it in time?

Already, questions were popping up much faster than he could answer them, and he’d only been exploring the graveyard for a few minutes. Was it his professional curse, being unable to simply go where life took him without asking questions? Were regular Trainers and Coordinators also haunted by these many doubts and insecurities?

Who’d fired that arrow? And for what purpose? If it was meant as a deterrent, then it made no sense to hide it in foliage; and if it was meant to hit a target, it was a safe bet that the archer had missed its mark, unless that was a practice shot – why else would anyone intentionally pierce a trunk?

This is all conjectural, derivative. The one question that absolutely must be answered is: are we in danger?

Immediately, his gaze shifted from the arrow to his bumbling partner, a gift from Gottfried that – at least for now – felt more like punishment: Munchlax.
The ravenous little bear was as airheaded as always, completely distracted by a nearby bush filled to the brim with ripe-looking Berries. Luring him away from the meal would be a daunting task no doubt… if Munchlax displayed any interest at all in the fruits. For some reason, something else seemed to be drawing its attention!

What overpowering discovery could deter him from food, of all things? This I must see!

It was in his nature to be overly cautious at all times - which made it all the more ironic just how quickly he was willing to outright ignore the ominous arrow. Trapped between the mighty allure of scientific discovery (what could possibly look more appealing to a Munchlax than easily accessible Berries?) and the common sense of self-preservation, Rorik ultimately opted to sate his curiosity, risks be damned. He wouldn’t mindlessly continue waltzing willy-nilly about the area, of course, but he couldn’t walk away from this mystery either…

Emulating what he’d seen countless times in war movies, Professor Pine got down on the ground and crawled his way over to Munchlax, hoping to remain out of sight of whoever might have fired the first arrow – if anyone else was even there to begin with. Ruining his lab coat in the process, Rorik moved slowly and clumsily across the dusty floor of the graveyard, firmly establishing he was definitely not a man of action.

“Hey! Hey, Munchlax,” whispered the Professor as he approached, hoping the gluttonous fool would pay him the slightest bit of attention. “Get down! Are you even listening? We may not be alone out here!”

Alas, his pleas were to no avail. Munchlax continue foraging through the foliage, fascinated by whatever it was that had grabbed its attention so thoroughly and completely…
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Old 06-10-2017, 04:09 PM   #45
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La Ville des Farceurs et Voleurs

Raves:
You cross the street, torn between your indifference towards the suffering of man, and the Mawile's pity. It isn't as though the van isn't long gone by now anyway, and therefor only so much your problem, and so you walk with only vague and noncommittal plans to do anything about what you've seen. There is trash gathering in the gutters, you notice, as you cross the road under the orange glow of streetlamps.

While by no means cold, it is a cooler evening than might be expected for this time of year. On the opposite corner, you find a girl's plaid flannel button-up lying on the concrete sidewalk. You hadn't noticed the child wearing it, but the wrists are still looped together, as if it had been tied around her waist. Perhaps she had dropped it in the struggle? You don't have much time to determine if the item is worth your attention, however, because you find yourself right outside of a bar, and no sooner do you happen upon the sweater does the front door swing open; a man being ejected violently by a bouncer's Mienshao. He hits the pavement violently, six inches from the toes of your boots, and rolls. Rising up on his elbows, he rips a Pokéball from his belt. The bouncer -- a man with blonde hair and a sandy goatee -- arrives in time to be blinded by the brilliant white light of a Pangoro materializing there on the street. Looking for a fight, the irate customer is on his feet now, spitting out a mouthful of blood.

It lands on your shoe.

What will you do?



As the pair walked down the street, the woman noticed the garbage blowing in the wind collecting in the gutters, the sight before them that led them in this direction at the back of her mind. Cruel as it seemed to not care about a disappeared child, the fact of the matter was that it was of little concern to her, as the Mawile grudgingly agreed. The setting sun rendered the temperature cooler than usual, likely due to possible weather fronts in the marshland, yet the roads remained bathed in the warm glow of the streetlamps above.

The pair stopped briefly upon noticing a discarded sweater, knotted arms hinting attachment at the waist. Whether it was the kidnapped girl's or not was of little concern to her, but what was however was the heavy landing of a man on the concrete beside her, ejected from a bar by a Mienshao of all things. She couldn't tell whether or not the man was inebriated in any way, but could practically feel the justified rage emanating from him as the Mawile stood by her in a defensive posture, horns rising just behind the head as the man slowly rose to his feet after releasing a large muscular bear, a Pangoro it seemed, to meet the bouncer, a suave type with sandy hair. The customer was most certainly far from amused, and proceeded to spit blood out...onto her boot.

"...how bothersome. These boots don't clean up as well...perhaps a spot of polish would be required..." she muttered, staring at the crimson spot on the black boot with only a hint of irritance, before raising her head and addressing the two men, voice like a serpent in tone. "Gentlemen and not-so-gentlemen, what would the trouble be here? Perhaps one had too much to drink, perchance? Or a disagreement of sorts?"

Awaiting the response, she was well aware the removed man would, in his infuriated state, lash out at the nearest figure, that being her. A wiggle of her fingers on her hand conveyed orders to the Mawile by her on plan of defensive action: intimidate with presence, sweet scent to soothe rage, play rough any who strikes.
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Old 06-11-2017, 11:47 PM   #46
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After wiggling the latch a bit, the mechanism released its tight grip on the sealed door with a heavy creaking noise. The door itself wasn't too difficult to lift, though, it was a bit heavier than it appeared to be.

You grabbed hold of the rusty handle that protruded from the back of it, pulling it upwards until the door swung open and rested carefully on its decrepit hinges. A short, brick staircase led downward, appearing to be only about ten to fifteen steps deep. With your mind made up, you descended the staircase to the bottom, Pouli lighting the way alongside you.

The platform at the bottom led forward in what was essentially a small brick hallway, about twenty feet deep at most. Aside from large, wooden double doors embedded into the wall at end, the corridor was empty. As the light of the Wisp slowly revealed the closed doors as you approached them, you realized they were not only much taller than you had thought upon first glance, but that they were also engraved with beautifully detailed carvings.

On the left was what appeared to be two large, thin, cat-like figures, sitting still with several smaller, similar looking figures surrounding them. They stared downward toward the metal lock that spanned the crevice of the two doors, except for the two tall ones - one of which had its head turned backward, and the other facing straight across to the other door. On the opposite side was - nothing. The door was completely blank, devoid of any carvings, which was extremely odd as you were certain that you had noticed that both doors were engraved - though perhaps it was just the way the shadows played upon their wooden faces that had initially left you with that impression.

There was no grime, dust, or cobwebs collecting or caking anywhere on either of the two doors. They looked clean, and were extremely well preserved, to the point where it almost seemed as though they had been taken care of on a regular basis. With nowhere else to go but back or forward, you reached your hands down to grab the handles and...

They wouldn't budge, both doors locked tight. This didn't come to much of a surprise, as there was a fairly large, steel panel that sat centered between the two doors with an oddly shaped keyhole fixated in the middle.

"Excuse me, can I help you?" A stern voice suddenly boomed from behind you. You released your grip on the doors, turning suddenly to see an elderly man staring at you only a few feet away. Pouli jumped backward and immediately began to growl, having not noticed the man's approach. The man was stiff, and grimaced, his eyes staring daggers. His clothing looked like something a last century butler would wear, and his hair was long and graying, tied back in a ponytail, and his beard was rough and short, covering the majority of his face. "I am the groundskeeper of this facility. I heard you fall through the floor earlier and rushed down here to help. However, this area is off limits. If you would be so kind as to follow me, I can treat your wounds upstairs and offer you a drink." He turned his back to you and began to walk forward, his stern voice inflecting more of a demand than a request, despite how unnatural it sounded.





Sandaa:

Kratos lifted the man gently upward and back, and then bent some of the roots of a nearby tree to form a sort of flatbed with an incline, gently laying the man down on the bed-like fixture, giving him a place to rest. He had stopped coughing, and was breathing slowly, his hands at his sides. The Golduck even took initiative and used its Psychic to tear some leaves from the canopy above, forming them into a spherical cushion and sliding the resulting pillow of leaves underneath of the man's head. What the Golduck did not expect, however, was that doing this caused four Wacan berries and three Oran berries to fall from the tree above, dropping onto your heads and bouncing onto the forest floor.

After making sure the man was securely safe and sufficiently out of harm's way, you decided to retrace the trail of muddy footprints that the man had left behind to see if you could find any clues that might lead you to the man's belongings. It wasn't but maybe twenty minutes into the walk that it had started to downpour, causing the man's footprints to slowly begin to disappear as the heavy rain crashed into the ground. You continued forward a bit, the intense downfall making it difficult to see too far in front of you, when suddenly you lost your footing and tumbled down the side of a small, muddy hill, splashing into a swamp below. The rain and the lack of a trail now made it difficult to proceed, not to mention the situation you had found yourself in in the swamp, but you remembered two pieces of key information the man had given you: He was at the mangrove wall that divided the swamp and the sea, and the last thing he remembered was being thrown against large jagged rocks. Whether he was referring to ones that jutted out of the oceanside, or the area of rocky shore that lined part of the mangrove wall, you were unsure.

Suddenly, something brushed against your leg. And then it happened again. There was a splash in the distance, and two yellow fins protruded from the swamp - and then another pair, and another, and another. They all slowly started gliding through the water, moving directly toward you, the gap between you and them closing incredibly quickly.





Missingno. Master:

The drunkard's answers seemed to only provide more questions, and finding the help you needed was appearing as though it was going to be a bit difficult.

You looked around the village, but the streets were scarce of people and Pokemon. Things seemed bleak. You returned to the town square, where you had entered, when suddenly there was a tap on your shoulder.

"Hello stranger! I've never seen you around these parts before. Sorry, I didn't mean to do you a frighten." The woman was young, probably in her late teens. She wore a blue dress with a white floral design and was holding a basket with both hands with several jars in it. She seemed excited to talk to a traveler. "I know this might be a long shot, but, well, we don't find many folks out here to often lately, seein' as how we're a bit off the beaten path and all... sort of makes business kinda hard." She frowned, and turned her gaze before blushing slightly, possibly feeling she had said too much. "Anyway, I'm sure you already know, but our little village here has a very special Honey that you can't find anywhere else! That's because our..." she trailed off a bit. Her face suddenly looked like a Deerling in headlights. "Anyway, we have a bargain deal right now! Three jars for $200! We have the finest Honey around, money back guarantee! H-here, um, take a free sample! I promise it won't disappoint!"

The woman looked a bit desperate, and was doing a terrible job of hiding it. However, she seemed to be much more willing to talk than anyone else. Perhaps this was the chance you were looking for...?



Neverthrive:

Kalos, this was not. It was a bit depressing to come to that realization as you trekked through the swamp alongside your Squirtle, hoping that perhaps there was something more you would have been able to find here in the The Black Marsh to satiate your homesickness.

Alas, that was not the case. Knee-deep in swamp water, you waded forward hoping to find something to bring you adventure, something to justify your optimism. You noticed that this water was not like most swamps; the water was clear, pure, clean. Occasionally, fish Pokemon swam by, making sure to keep their distance. You aren't sure how long you and Greg waded through the swamp for, but suddenly, something happened that made you stop dead in your tracks, ceasing movement entirely. A sound... no, music.

It was distant, but clear: It sounded like a symphony. Yes, you were certain. Strings and wind instruments played a song you had never heard before, beautifully and in unison with chimes and sounds that resembled xylophones. You waded closer to it, the music reverberating and echoing down a shaded forest path away from the swamp. It was almost like a scene from a movie. The path shined brightly as the sun penetrated the canopy, rays pouring through the leaves between bent trunks and vines. You watched the forest's majesty as the symphony grew slightly louder, and noticed that a small grouping of flowers near the swamp side slowly began to blossom, their petals carefully beginning to open, as though the song was having an effect on them. Do you ease your curiosity and pursue the source of the sound?
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Old 06-12-2017, 12:14 PM   #47
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Missingno. Master:

The drunkard's answers seemed to only provide more questions, and finding the help you needed was appearing as though it was going to be a bit difficult.

You looked around the village, but the streets were scarce of people and Pokemon. Things seemed bleak. You returned to the town square, where you had entered, when suddenly there was a tap on your shoulder.

"Hello stranger! I've never seen you around these parts before. Sorry, I didn't mean to do you a frighten." The woman was young, probably in her late teens. She wore a blue dress with a white floral design and was holding a basket with both hands with several jars in it. She seemed excited to talk to a traveler. "I know this might be a long shot, but, well, we don't find many folks out here to often lately, seein' as how we're a bit off the beaten path and all... sort of makes business kinda hard." She frowned, and turned her gaze before blushing slightly, possibly feeling she had said too much. "Anyway, I'm sure you already know, but our little village here has a very special Honey that you can't find anywhere else! That's because our..." she trailed off a bit. Her face suddenly looked like a Deerling in headlights. "Anyway, we have a bargain deal right now! Three jars for $200! We have the finest Honey around, money back guarantee! H-here, um, take a free sample! I promise it won't disappoint!"

The woman looked a bit desperate, and was doing a terrible job of hiding it. However, she seemed to be much more willing to talk than anyone else. Perhaps this was the chance you were looking for...?
With the maddeningly unhelpful drunkard behind them now, Keith and Meowth set out in search of someone else to talk to. Anyone else, really. They weren't picky. Unfortunately, their search didn't seem to be doing them any good- the streets were as empty as a restaurant in Swalot territory. "Yeesh," Meowth sighed. "Dere ain't a soul around, is dere?"

"Doesn't look like it," Keith agreed. "We probably should've asked some of those other people we saw before approaching the drunk- wha?" he added, noticing that someone was tapping him on the shoulder.

This tap on the shoulder, as it happened, came from a young woman, trying to sell Keith some Honey. She seemed desperate for a customer, considering the distinct lack of travelers this village seemed to see, and offered an admittedly decent deal- three jars of Honey for only 200.

Keith considered this. The woman seemed more willing to talk to him than anyone else in town. Perhaps she'd be willing to help them out. And perhaps even more willing if Keith were to help her out here. 200, after all, seemed a small price to pay for three jars of Honey, especially when served with a side of information.

"Just 200 for three jars, huh?" he said. "That sounds like a fair deal to me," he conceded. He took out his wallet, produced 200 from within, and offered it to her. "Oh, uh, also," he added. "I don't suppose you could maybe tell me what's up with the flowers around here? I heard this place was supposed to be so vibrant and full of life, but it looks like something's wrong, and nobody else has been able to tell me much. I mean, if it's something I could potentially help out with, I'd like to know just how I could help, y'know?" he said.
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Old 06-13-2017, 04:58 PM   #48
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Neverthrive:

Kalos, this was not. It was a bit depressing to come to that realization as you trekked through the swamp alongside your Squirtle, hoping that perhaps there was something more you would have been able to find here in the The Black Marsh to satiate your homesickness.

Alas, that was not the case. Knee-deep in swamp water, you waded forward hoping to find something to bring you adventure, something to justify your optimism. You noticed that this water was not like most swamps; the water was clear, pure, clean. Occasionally, fish Pokemon swam by, making sure to keep their distance. You aren't sure how long you and Greg waded through the swamp for, but suddenly, something happened that made you stop dead in your tracks, ceasing movement entirely. A sound... no, music.

It was distant, but clear: It sounded like a symphony. Yes, you were certain. Strings and wind instruments played a song you had never heard before, beautifully and in unison with chimes and sounds that resembled xylophones. You waded closer to it, the music reverberating and echoing down a shaded forest path away from the swamp. It was almost like a scene from a movie. The path shined brightly as the sun penetrated the canopy, rays pouring through the leaves between bent trunks and vines. You watched the forest's majesty as the symphony grew slightly louder, and noticed that a small grouping of flowers near the swamp side slowly began to blossom, their petals carefully beginning to open, as though the song was having an effect on them. Do you ease your curiosity and pursue the source of the sound?


It had felt like they'd been slogging through the swamp all day, though to the best Erven could tell, only an hour or so had passed since they had set out to explore this place. Everything was damp, even the air, and the sensation of it was beginning to become oppressive, so much so that Erven didn't immediately notice the distant sound of music over the sloshing of their steps. Greg could detect something, though couldn't quite recognize it for what it was. This change in the pokemon's demeanor was enough to alert his trainer, and Erven stopped, Greg soon following suit. The human tilted his head to focus on the sounds of the surrounding swamp, and was slightly surprised at what he found.

"That- that's music, right?" he asked of Greg, as if to clarify whether or not he'd gone insane. Greg nodded, slowly, in the affirmative, believing he was hearing the same as well. "That's not what I was expecting to find out here, but music means there's people, so... let's see where that's coming from," Erven resolved and began moving ahead once more with new found vigor, the idea of finding civilization, and by extension, somewhere more dry than the swamp driving him onward.

The further along they traveled, the louder the melody became, so they were certain they were heading in the right direction, Erven's curiosity regarding the origins of the noise only swelling with the volume. Greg was quite indifferent to it all --the squirtle could have spent all day in the swamp as he felt right at home-- only following his trainer out of a sense of loyalty to him.
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Old 06-13-2017, 09:55 PM   #49
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Sandaa:

Kratos lifted the man gently upward and back, and then bent some of the roots of a nearby tree to form a sort of flatbed with an incline, gently laying the man down on the bed-like fixture, giving him a place to rest. He had stopped coughing, and was breathing slowly, his hands at his sides. The Golduck even took initiative and used its Psychic to tear some leaves from the canopy above, forming them into a spherical cushion and sliding the resulting pillow of leaves underneath of the man's head. What the Golduck did not expect, however, was that doing this caused four Wacan berries and three Oran berries to fall from the tree above, dropping onto your heads and bouncing onto the forest floor.

After making sure the man was securely safe and sufficiently out of harm's way, you decided to retrace the trail of muddy footprints that the man had left behind to see if you could find any clues that might lead you to the man's belongings. It wasn't but maybe twenty minutes into the walk that it had started to downpour, causing the man's footprints to slowly begin to disappear as the heavy rain crashed into the ground. You continued forward a bit, the intense downfall making it difficult to see too far in front of you, when suddenly you lost your footing and tumbled down the side of a small, muddy hill, splashing into a swamp below. The rain and the lack of a trail now made it difficult to proceed, not to mention the situation you had found yourself in in the swamp, but you remembered two pieces of key information the man had given you: He was at the mangrove wall that divided the swamp and the sea, and the last thing he remembered was being thrown against large jagged rocks. Whether he was referring to ones that jutted out of the oceanside, or the area of rocky shore that lined part of the mangrove wall, you were unsure.

Suddenly, something brushed against your leg. And then it happened again. There was a splash in the distance, and two yellow fins protruded from the swamp - and then another pair, and another, and another. They all slowly started gliding through the water, moving directly toward you, the gap between you and them closing incredibly quickly.
Gary could only watch as Kratos lifted the injured man with his telekinetic powers. He had complete faith in his Golduck though, smiling as Kratos made a very makeshift support for the man. As Kratos used his psychic powers to rip some leaves from the canopy above, Gary noticed a small handful of berries tumble down to the ground afterward. There were four Wacan Berries and three Oran Berries. From his past knowledge, Wacan Berries were often used to insulate electricity, not very applicable to this situation. However, Oran Berries have been commonly used to boost the body’s regenerative capabilities, something he could actually use.

After looking around for a smooth rock, Gary carefully ground up two of the Oran Berries into a salve, which he then spread on the man’s wounds. He then slowly squeezed the final Oran Berry into the man’s mouth, hoping it would be enough to heal him. He pocketed the four Wacan Berries in hopes of finding a use for them another time. Taking one last look over the man to make sure he was secured and comfortable, Gary and Kratos set off down the path, following the muddy footprints.

Unfortunately for Gary and Kratos, after about twenty minutes walking the weather took a turn for the worse, the sudden downpour completely washing the man’s footprints away. Gary’s eyes strained to see the trail in front of him, focusing too hard on the trail ahead of them to notice his own footing. One bad step, and the trainer suddenly took a slip down a muddy slope as he yelped in shock.

Looking around at his surroundings, Gary saw that we was now in some kind of swamp as Kratos carefully slid down the hill to join his trainer. “Shit,” Gary cursed under his breath as he examined the swamp. He needed to get back to the rocky shore, he thought while trying to get his bearings back. Gary then snapped out of his thoughts as he felt something rough brush past his leg. It then happened again, followed by a series of jagged yellow dorsal fins poking out of the water.

“I recognize those fins,” Gary called out, making very slow movements to back up as they began to converge on their location. “Those are undoubtedly Carvanha. I’d like to study them more, but this is hardly the time for that. What I do know is that they’re attracted to frantic movement, like splashing. Let’s use that to our advantage, Kratos. Use a Mud Bomb off to the side to attract their attention with a big splash. If that doesn’t work, shoot out a Confuse Ray to disorient them.” As Kratos nodded, Gary looked around for something to grab onto to pull him out of the swamp.
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Old 06-15-2017, 05:20 AM   #50
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Le Marécage Noir

Known as the 'Black Bayou,' Marécage Noir is actually a series of wetlands on the north western tip of Fizzytopia, which includes marshes, swamps, and even a thicket of mangroves which stand between Marécage Noir and the coastline. A variety of Pokémon call the relatively untamed wilderness home, and a city stands in the heart of it all; a bastion of revelry and sin.


Le Marais Sacré de Celebi
Marécage Noir is shrouded in dark clouds seemingly endlessly, but there is one place for which the sky is always clear: the sacred swamp of Celebi. Though the water is dark with tannins, it doesn't ever seem to stagnate. It's cool to the touch, with a pleasant, earthy smell. Thick trees, seemingly older than time itself, grow from its dark depths, with gnarled trunks and twisty roots which jut up at odd angles. Here, a plethora of Pokémon can be found of all sorts of types; Bug, Flying, Grass, Water -- even some Poison types call this ethereal swamp their home. The sun is seemingly always shining here. Named for the Mythical Pokémon Celebi, there is a legend that this area thrives so beautifully in such an otherwise dark and murky place due to the influence of the Time Travel Pokémon, and that causing harm to the sacred swamp will result in bad fortune. Locals often bring offerings of food in respect to the land and to Celebi, hoping for blessings and good favor, and even perhaps a chance to meet Celebi itself. Please reply in SpringGreen.
The Black Bayou. A very wet area filled with a harsh environment and harsher Pokemon, all of which are happy to accept the unwary traveler into their deadly embrace. Of course, it helped that Hyrem would be bringing all sorts of Pokemon that are well suited to the swamps and mangroves here. On his left shoulder stood Nissa, who looked at the trees above the group and saw it a veritable playground for her. On his right sat Henrietta, her webbed feet making sure she stayed right with her trainer. In his arms lay Sorano, curled up with her head resting on his arm, flicking her tongue out every once in a while just in case there was something interesting around. Flanking either side of him as he walked were his mother-daughter duo of Seviper, the mother Amethyst on the left and the daughter Kinana on the right. They happened to be one of many reasons Henrietta was so unwilling to let go of her perch; better to be up near her trainer's face than down on the ground with not one but two scary Seviper on the ground that could potentially chase her if they were hungry enough (or claimed to be). Last, but certainly not least, was Wendy lumbering right behind the group and actually resisting the urge to scare off all the local wildlife for once.

So why would Hyrem bring an entire party full of female reptiles (and one amphibian) to a swampy environment? Well, because they're all quite suited to this kind of an area for one! The other was because Amethyst wanted her children to go on an adventure since they hadn't gone on one yet. Nissa and Henrietta were also pretty eager to come to this place when they heard about it, and Wendy was the better Flying Pokemon for this zone than Icarus was; in fact, the Skarmory refused to take them to a place with so much moisture that he would risk his metallic body being waterlogged just from being near this place (his words, not mine!).

In any case, the Black Bayou seemed the ideal adventure spot for the team he brought, and he might as well poke around in the swamp said to be a favorite place for Celebi to hang out. Because it would be nice to meet a Legendary Pokemon and not have it try to bring an entire ocean down on an island. Right now, however, it was time to take a break, so he looked for the closest tree that had some sort of dry land to sit next to and bring his Pokemon around him so they would all have a place to rest and eat; after all, he didn't want the food capsules he brought with various types of dead bugs, fish, and meat inside them to be left unused!
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