New Fizz City: The Metropolitan Zone

[Lil'twick]

Shadow-

With bravado, you hastily accept the request. Would you be way over your head? Perhaps, but you had a facade to upkeep. So, of course, you would accept this. Even if the circumstances were just at face value, you couldn't help but think that this was just waiting for your results. It might well be, but that's just how it is at times.

You then induce a sugar high on your rocky, reptilian toddler before stating you're ready. The two of you are then led towards the official restoration room, and see a few fossils sitting about. In the machine was a Sail fossil, seeming poised and ready for revival. Yet, you notice a goop dripping from the entrance the fossil would enter. Besides that, you see a trail of slime leading from the machine up to one of the ventilation shafts as well. Just as the researcher had stated.

A few scientists are collecting samples of it and going over it, but the results don't seem to be coming quickly. It seemed that you'd need to track down the culprit yourself here. Now, the main question was to investigate the room, or figure out a way into its escape route? THere were, of course, a few other questions, but a course of action was the most important here.

What do you do?

[Lil'twick]

Originally Posted by ShadowDRGN

Liltwick - “Ooooh~! Very nice character work!” Vivian replies, visibly shaking with excitement as you introduce yourself, “so, are you like one of those historical martial arts fans? That stuff always looks so fun, but the equipment and costumes are a huge investment...”

The girl’s questions are endless, but it only reinforces your sense that these costumed people are taken by flights of fancy. She engages with your name, your appearance, your very life story in terms of recognizability—and evidently, whatever mental catalog of fiction she has in there is drawing a blank.

“Anyways! It’s nice to meet you, Hotaru!” she says. It seems she doesn’t even notice that you got her name wrong... or perhaps she’s so caught up in your ‘character’ that she doesn’t mind. Either way, she’s at least willing to help you find your bearings, for now.

Vivian waves at you to follow as she ventures inside. A wall of cool air washes over you as you enter the cavernous space, and your eyes have to take a moment to adjust to the unnatural glow of fluorescent lights.

Once they do, however, you find yourself transported to a surprisingly familiar scene: Stalls filled to the brim with candy and festive props turn an otherwise open space into a bustly, labyrinthine market—a spitting image for a Hisuian festival!

“Welcome to Fizzytopia’s biggest comic con of the year!” Vivian says, raising her voice above the din of the crowds, “day two’s always the busiest, heh... Oh! C’mon, we can get to the west wing through here!”

With Vivian practically dragging you to your destination, you have plenty of time to take in your surroundings a little more. There’s a sort of hand-crafted feel to everything. Vendors haphazardly tape posters and paper signs to their stalls as attendees browse through their merchandise, while artists work away at signings for excited fans. You see people hunched around a table, rolling colorful dice and reciting magical incantations among themselves—as though there weren’t enough layers of fantasy already.

Eventually, the two of you find yourselves roaming the halls, just outside the main event grounds. There are still plenty of stalls lining the walls, but something about the atmosphere seems less congested, with vendors more willing to engage in long conversations with their guests.

You spot the table you’re looking for easily, seeing as it’s completely covered from end-to-end in glittering coins. You’re greeted by a man with a silver-speckled beard, and seeking some legal tender, you take out your coin purse to sell.

Unlike the doorman, the collector doesn’t seem particularly phased by the sight of your money. Sliding a handful of coins across the glass, he quietly takes out his tools and starts appraising them.

As you’re waiting for the verdict, your eyes sweep over the glass cases sitting on the man’s table, and you immediately notice the range of dates printed on their faces: 1917... 1943... 1961... 1999... 2008...2022—it seems you’ve been shunted forward more than a century in time!

“Alright. I can do this much for ‘em,” the collector says, passing you a piece of paper with... quite a few zeroes written on it—more than this meager stack of gold would be worth back home.

What will you do?

Hotaru, realizing that trying to reason with this girl was beyond him, just nodded. If she thought he was under a false persona, then fine, let her. That just better let him sink into the shadows and hide. Pinpoint every weakness of the place's architecture, and use those as a way out. This was a self-imposed reconnaissance mission, to get information on where he was.?"

And well, at least the 'when' answer was soon answered, as he looked at the various coins. Over a hundred years, so he was sent forwards in time... And assuming by how people were acting, spatial as well. This region, while it could be modern-day Hisui, didn't have the same feel. No legends of its own, not myths to drive it forwards. A blank slate landmass that only was there to cater to those who wandered it. Nothing deeply tied to tradition, no.

He nods at the offer of 'paper money' for his coinage and pockets it. Luckily, he had a feeling that Baggin's descendants weren't lurking around to extort him for more bag space. That was good... that was indeed good. The modern-day person looked to need more to carry, presumably useless baubles like those he had seen around him the entire time.

"Now what?" he questions his guide. The money was his, and he had no clue what to do in an environment such as this. The current goal was accomplished, so he had to await new 'orders'.

[ShadowDRGN]

Originally Posted by Lil'twick

Shadow-

With bravado, you hastily accept the request. Would you be way over your head? Perhaps, but you had a facade to upkeep. So, of course, you would accept this. Even if the circumstances were just at face value, you couldn't help but think that this was just waiting for your results. It might well be, but that's just how it is at times.

You then induce a sugar high on your rocky, reptilian toddler before stating you're ready. The two of you are then led towards the official restoration room, and see a few fossils sitting about. In the machine was a Sail fossil, seeming poised and ready for revival. Yet, you notice a goop dripping from the entrance the fossil would enter. Besides that, you see a trail of slime leading from the machine up to one of the ventilation shafts as well. Just as the researcher had stated.

A few scientists are collecting samples of it and going over it, but the results don't seem to be coming quickly. It seemed that you'd need to track down the culprit yourself here. Now, the main question was to investigate the room, or figure out a way into its escape route? THere were, of course, a few other questions, but a course of action was the most important here.

What do you do?

As he’s ushered into the restoration room, Hatchley stops, and takes a moment to wonder at his surroundings. So, this is where they bring Pokemon back from their million-years-long slumber...

His eyes drift to the sail fossil behind the glass, curious. Outside of Tyrunt, his knowledge of fossils is a little limited, but that should be an Amaura, right? Maybe it would make a good companion for Prince, seeing as they’re from the same era, and all—plus, having an ice type around would surely help the unruly Dragon behave...

Gah! Now’s not the time to stand around gawking! The scientists are already diligently investigating—the least he could do is make good on his promise to go catch the Pokemon responsible for the mess!

I mean... it shouldn’t be too hard... right? Yeah! Let’s do it!

Hatchley shimmies past all the lab coats, following the trail of goop as it crawls into the ventilation shaft above. It’s clear that whatever pest they’re dealing with, it’s both small and flexible. Ditto comes to the forefront of his mind immediately—but that doesn’t quite seem right. Ditto are valuable Pokemon for a laboratory, so they’d know if one of them managed to escape, wouldn’t they?

What else could that leave, Hatchley wonders. Grimer, maybe? The Trainer stops his finger before he can scrape a sample off the wall—probably best to leave it alone, until he knows for sure it’s not toxic.

Turning his focus toward the Pokemon’s escape route, itself, he contemplates sending Prince into the vent to try and chase it down. Hatchley immediately cringes at the nightmare that would be getting the dino to comply, let alone have him tread carefully enough to keep him from crashing through the ceiling and landing atop of some poor sod’s desk.

“Hey, so uh... Dr. Richards?” Hatchley asks, turning around to face the man again, “do the vents here connect to any of the other departments? I’m thinking that if they only circulate through this part of the building, we could find someplace to set-up a trap, instead of trying to squeeze in after it,” he suggests.

“Also, would you happen to know if anyone at the labs has been working with any kinda gooey Pokemon? I figure it probably didn’t come from outside, either...”

Unfortunately, he’s not knowledgeable enough to figure out anything on his own, but that doesn’t mean he can’t rely on the scientists for anything he doesn’t know. After all, his specialty is Pokemon Battles... and once he gets his hands on this slimy intruder, he’ll make sure to demonstrate everything he’s learned today!

[ShadowDRGN]

Liltwick - As you were selling off the contents of your vastly-inflated wallet, Vivian seems to have been passing the time by perusing through a nearby vendor’s goods—Charms, by the looks of it. Though rather than images of spiritual significance like magatama, the images painted within the resin seem to be more figments of imagination: Colorful characters, and heavily stylized depictions of the Pokemon belonging to said characters.

“Sorry, can’t really see the colors right in this thing. Just a sec—” Vivian utters in frustration as she slowly lifts the helmet from her head. Watching from behind, you catch only the slightest glimpse of her lightly-freckled cheeks as she shifts the helmet under her arm and turns back to get a closer look at the merchandise. Her brunette hair is tied up in a bun atop her head, so as to not break the illusion of her superhero get-up.

You finish your business with the coin collector, and after pocketing your money you approach her requesting further orders—much to her puzzlement, of course. The rituals and totems of this world hold no sway over you, and so you simply see the convention as just another place to perform reconnaissance. Your seemingly sole purpose is to assess threats, vulnerabilities, and sources of information valuable to your master—nothing more, nothing less.

“Uh...” Vivian pauses, her newly-acquired bauble dangling gently from between her fingers. She can clearly parse from your expression that you were dead-focused on ‘staying in character’. Which, naturally, meant taking no interest in the vast sea of pop culture the event was built to cater to.

“W-well! Even in Hisui, you guys had Pokemon battles between Trainers, right? Or... ah, they were called Wielders back then, weren’t they?” she asks. The costumed girl starts walking back towards the main grounds, talking at you the entire way.

“If you’re interested, you could try out the Costume Clash! It’s a small tournament the con holds each day of the event, where Trainers battle while in costume. First-to-two, round robin format... ah—that means you win if you’re the first to KO two of the opponent’s Pokemon, and you fight each opponent once. Whoever has the most wins at the end of the tournament is declared the winner!”

That bright smile you felt beneath her mask shows clearly for the first time, accompanied by a look in her pale eyes that says ‘you’re gonna love this!’

“We’d have an hour to kill before it starts up, but I’m sure we can find something to do! How about it?”

---

(OOC note: I will not make you fight every Trainer in the round robin if you enter, this is more for window dressing)

[Lil'twick]

Shadow-

Examining the situation at hand, you think of a few possibilities. Yet, you also have a feeling that the speculation can come later. After all, you had people here that could think for you! Why not just ask them, and you can be the dumb muscle that cleans up the mess afterward?

"Well, this entire building is under the same HVAC system... as well as a few external vents on the roof. So really, this thing could be anywhere. A trap would most certainly be highly inefficient since it could take days or even weeks to catch the culprit," the doctor explains, rubbing his temples.

"We do have a central room for the unit, as well as some passageways in the vent large enough for people. The best thing to do, in my opinion, is to send you in there and try to find it," he continues, before motioning for you to follow him. Guess you didn't really have a choice to protest your empolyer's decision.

You are soon led out of the Paleontology department, and are instead taken back to the lobby. You then are led towards one of the back walls, next to a giant set of windows displaying a botanical garden. It's labeled with a few signs, non of which you understand sans "EMPLOYEES ONLY" and "HAZARDOUS."

Being let in, you see a gigantic air conditioning system with a few workers already there. You see a [DAGNER] and [ERROR] message appearing on one of the screens, the one monitoring the Paleontology section of the building. You see more slimy gunk coating the vents, from the cameras there, and see a small gooey blob slowly moving it way through the vents.

You can't fully make it out, but you see a mixture of different shades of purples... and two green circles. Well ,whatever it was, that was your mark. The doctor, giving you a nod, opens the righthand side door in the room, presumably a repair shaft for the vents. Time to go track this thing down, and clean up along the way!

What do you do?

[Lil'twick]

Originally Posted by ShadowDRGN

Liltwick - As you were selling off the contents of your vastly-inflated wallet, Vivian seems to have been passing the time by perusing through a nearby vendor’s goods—Charms, by the looks of it. Though rather than images of spiritual significance like magatama, the images painted within the resin seem to be more figments of imagination: Colorful characters, and heavily stylized depictions of the Pokemon belonging to said characters.

“Sorry, can’t really see the colors right in this thing. Just a sec—” Vivian utters in frustration as she slowly lifts the helmet from her head. Watching from behind, you catch only the slightest glimpse of her lightly-freckled cheeks as she shifts the helmet under her arm and turns back to get a closer look at the merchandise. Her brunette hair is tied up in a bun atop her head, so as to not break the illusion of her superhero get-up.

You finish your business with the coin collector, and after pocketing your money you approach her requesting further orders—much to her puzzlement, of course. The rituals and totems of this world hold no sway over you, and so you simply see the convention as just another place to perform reconnaissance. Your seemingly sole purpose is to assess threats, vulnerabilities, and sources of information valuable to your master—nothing more, nothing less.

“Uh...” Vivian pauses, her newly-acquired bauble dangling gently from between her fingers. She can clearly parse from your expression that you were dead-focused on ‘staying in character’. Which, naturally, meant taking no interest in the vast sea of pop culture the event was built to cater to.

“W-well! Even in Hisui, you guys had Pokemon battles between Trainers, right? Or... ah, they were called Wielders back then, weren’t they?” she asks. The costumed girl starts walking back towards the main grounds, talking at you the entire way.

“If you’re interested, you could try out the Costume Clash! It’s a small tournament the con holds each day of the event, where Trainers battle while in costume. First-to-two, round robin format... ah—that means you win if you’re the first to KO two of the opponent’s Pokemon, and you fight each opponent once. Whoever has the most wins at the end of the tournament is declared the winner!”

That bright smile you felt beneath her mask shows clearly for the first time, accompanied by a look in her pale eyes that says ‘you’re gonna love this!’

“We’d have an hour to kill before it starts up, but I’m sure we can find something to do! How about it?”

---

(OOC note: I will not make you fight every Trainer in the round robin if you enter, this is more for window dressing)

"A fight?" Hotaru blinks, questioning what the woman before him had suggested.

Everything else beforehand had become void. Information that was deemed useless, and not worth even touching. A battle would be at hand, and for that, he was intrigued. How did modern trainers fight? What Pokemon did they have? Ones he had never seen before? The information was vital, especially once he was able to return to his own time. Yes, he would partake in this tournament. Though, one thing did stick out.

"Wielders? I am not familiar with that term. The only one that I could..." he shakes his head. "No, speculation would prove useless. Trainer, wielder, whatever. Those terms mean nothing to mean. Pokemon are meant to be used as tools for our survival. That is what I was taught, even if it is a creed I disagree with..."

He trails off, sighing. A moment of weakness, this was not like him. He was letting his guard down, and he was not happy about it. This was still a strange place, and any one person could easily take him down. So, he was ready to participate in this tournament to prove his strength.

"Ignore that, please. If this tournament is in an hour, I will need to train and prepare. Is there a place where we can do that?"

[Prof.Enigma]

Sunder Island: Zelphon

Pumpkaboo hesitated to say something more but decided not to say anything as it was clear the human had made up her mind on the matter and nodded as the Shuppet apologized and explained.
"Pray for your safe return I do," Soon after the words spoken by the pumpkin pokemon, it took its partners and headed to a safe alcove.

As you trotted along, you soon realized that while within this landscape it shouldn't be hard to stumble upon, you had no fundamental understanding of the area nor of if there was a safe place to escape to should for whatever reason you have to turn tail.
Sauntering along the coastline you wandered aimlessly with no real direction to go in other than forwards.

You couldn't help but mull over that which the pumpkin Pokémon spoke of... A cover story... If that was the "cover" then perhaps what lies beneath the story? What truly happened there that forced officials to release that story which swayed nearly 500,000 people to abandon their homes and in some cases their pokemon to leave?

Another thing the pumpkin mentioned was dark powers... Shadowifcation? The process was well known within the Orre Region. Where pokemon forcibly have their hearts closed in an undisclosed process, there were rumors that ether was used to suppress their emotions, But, that cannot be confirmed nor denied. This could be what the Pumpkin was talking about, but you couldn't help but feel a nagging thought that whispered "what if it wasn't"...

[ShadowDRGN]

Originally Posted by Lil'twick

Shadow-

Examining the situation at hand, you think of a few possibilities. Yet, you also have a feeling that the speculation can come later. After all, you had people here that could think for you! Why not just ask them, and you can be the dumb muscle that cleans up the mess afterward?

"Well, this entire building is under the same HVAC system... as well as a few external vents on the roof. So really, this thing could be anywhere. A trap would most certainly be highly inefficient since it could take days or even weeks to catch the culprit," the doctor explains, rubbing his temples.

"We do have a central room for the unit, as well as some passageways in the vent large enough for people. The best thing to do, in my opinion, is to send you in there and try to find it," he continues, before motioning for you to follow him. Guess you didn't really have a choice to protest your empolyer's decision.

You are soon led out of the Paleontology department, and are instead taken back to the lobby. You then are led towards one of the back walls, next to a giant set of windows displaying a botanical garden. It's labeled with a few signs, non of which you understand sans "EMPLOYEES ONLY" and "HAZARDOUS."

Being let in, you see a gigantic air conditioning system with a few workers already there. You see a [DAGNER] and [ERROR] message appearing on one of the screens, the one monitoring the Paleontology section of the building. You see more slimy gunk coating the vents, from the cameras there, and see a small gooey blob slowly moving it way through the vents.

You can't fully make it out, but you see a mixture of different shades of purples... and two green circles. Well ,whatever it was, that was your mark. The doctor, giving you a nod, opens the righthand side door in the room, presumably a repair shaft for the vents. Time to go track this thing down, and clean up along the way!

What do you do?

Hatchley finds it disheartening to hear that the culprit could be anywhere within this massive complex. Honestly, how is one person supposed to find any Pokemon with that information? Not to mention the doctor’s silence on the teen’s other question suggests he either doesn’t know, or those details are classified...

Still. Job’s a job. Guess I’ll just have to figure something out...

“Show me the way, then,” Hatchley agrees—not like he can do anything else but follow, really. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he slouches forwards as he saunters behind Dr. Richards. He’s already all drenched in sweat from the jurassic soup he’d just been training in, and now he has to go crawling through air ducts—there has to be a cool shower waiting for him after all this. There has to be.

They cross through the lobby once more, only this time his eyes are drawn towards the greenhouse at the very back. Through the windows, he can see the lush garden growing away underneath the sun lamps—there’s definitely some experimental varieties in there. He imagines supersized berries, man-eating leaves, beautiful flowers that’ll kill with just a touch... okay maybe that last bit might be a little too imaginative...

That wall of perfectly-cooled air hits him as they walk in, filling Hatchley with a sense of relief. The Dragon Tamer looks around, admiring the flourishing plants and flowers—at least until the blinking lights on the surveillance footage catches his attention.

He walks up to the console, eyes drifting between the different screens. Trails of dried goop wind in-and-out of view as he’s shown a glimpse of each section of the ventilation system, until at last, he spots some movement on the screen!

The creature quickly slinks through the shadows, but not before he’s able to take note of its features: Purple body, dotted with two green circles... wait a sec... Ah!

“Oh, I think that’s a Goomy in there!” Hatchley exclaims as he turns to Dr. Richards, “my sister used to train all kinds of Dragon-types, so I'm pretty familiar. She’d have a whole pod of Goomy with her sometimes, and they’d just leave slime all over the shop!”

Glancing at the camera feed again, he watches for another glimpse of the creature. Goomy are slippery slugs, but they’re also fragile. He remembers Rhinea always spraying the yard down with a hose to make sure they wouldn’t dry out in the blistery summer air.

All that cool, humid air circulating through the vents... it must be paradise for the little guy—for now, at least. Nodding to himself, Hatchley approaches the entrance to the maintenance shaft. Peering inside, he finds all sleek, futuristic glamor being instantly stripped away at the sight of exposed concrete and coiling pipes. He pulls out his phone, testing the flashlight to make sure it’ll be bright enough to guide his way.

Before he sets out, though, the Dragon Tamer glances back at the doctor with an impish smirk plastered across his face:

“I think I have an idea—would it be possible to send some warm, dry air through that part of the ventilation system? Goomy get exhausted when they start drying out, so it’d give me the perfect chance to close in and catch ‘em!”

[Lil'twick]

Shadow-

As you look at the footage, you realize what was gunking up the revival machine. It was a dragon-type and one that your sister had told you about previously. A Goomy! A native of the Kalos region, though there were reports it use to live in Sinnoh a long time ago. Why they were no longer found there was still a scientific mystery, but that wasn't relevant to this matter.

With your knowledge of Pokemon, you make a suggestion on the matter. Increase the temperature to try and dry it out, so it would be easier to locate and retrieve. The Pokemon did not handle the heat well, even if its Dragon-typing made it resistant to fire. Before the doctor could even speak, you hear one of the techs in the room speak up.

"Unable to do that kid. That half of the building is temperature controlled so each specific department can best conduct its research. If we increase the temperature on that side of the building, the Genetics department is at risk of their cryo chambers' delicate balance being messed up," the technician explains.

"However." A different one speaks up. "We have a multi-lock chamber system that runs beneath the lobby onto the other half of the building. That's where our standard offices are. Alongside departments such as engineering and technology are. If you can chase it there, that's something we'd be able to do."

"If you don't catch the thing first," the one who first spoke laughs.

While this was going on, you notice the professor rummaging through a cabinet titled maintenance. He pulls out a few different protective suits, looks at you, before coming back with one.

"Here, put this on over your clothes Hatchley. It'll protect your skin from the temperatures within the air ventilation system. Once that's on, give the word and we'll send you in with a communicator so we can give you status updates.

What do you do?

[Marion Ette]

Originally Posted by Prof.Enigma

Bohem Reply in Deep Pink

If you want to get away from the traffic and crowds to kick back with the more beatnik populace of New Fizz City, head on over to Bohem. Years ago, artists seeking affordable housing, open studio space, and a lifestyle away from the mainstream metropolis seeped into this deteriorating industrial district and gave it new verve. They converted the abandoned warehouses into lofted art studios, independent galleries, and coffee shops buzzing with character. Visitors are invited to pull up a chair at the local coffee shop or stroll through its galleries, where you’ll meet all manner of artists, musicians and creative types.

Artisan Avenue: The streets of Bohem are a blank canvas for the city’s most talented street artists; where this creative expression culminates is the aptly dubbed Artisan Avenue. The colourful street is closed off to road traffic, giving creatives free rein to brighten up abandoned storefronts, turn corrugated gates into canvases and cover entire apartment blocks in provocative murals. You’ll find the avenue sprawling at any given time with artists selling their crafts as well as a lively assortment of street performers, their acts occasionally interrupted by curious stray Pokemon.​

​

Having mastered the ability to Transform, the Honchkrow Oroitz had a new dream. A dream of becoming the very best, like no one ever was. The Head Honchkrow. The Pokémon Master. The greatest man AND Pokémon to ever have lived - perfection from both sides of the training coin. After all, if his destiny would not place him at the head of the flock at Sludge Wave Coast, why could he not have his own land, with his own motley flock? Sister Minerva may not have chosen the path of revenge, true, but the best revenge is living well, and Oroitz planned to live exquisitely. He would live in an impressive home, assemble his powerful team... and beat Keith Masters himself in a Pokémon battle! Oh, yes. That victory would be sweet, indeed.

Of course, in order to pursue this dream, Oroitz would need to embark upon a journey to expand his flock... Well, Sister Minerva's flock, which he saw himself as co-leading. The Honchkrow imagined himself flying through forests and valleys, exploring breathtaking vistas and scenic landscapes... He hadn't exactly envisioned himself walking around Bohem, but the most eager Pokémon among Sister Minerva's team who begged, pleaded to come along on an adventure, did so on the condition that she get to visit the famous Artisan Avenue, and that Oroitz would accompany her in his human form so that he could purchase a (reasonably priced) souvenir of her choice. That little aspiring ice sculptor now waddled alongside him, eyes agape behind her icy mask, pointing out various works and examining them with great interest. Ysayle the Eiscue's temperament matched her typing at times, but among all these fascinating and colorful sights, she seems to warm up considerably. For all the beautifully printed books of art and sculpture that Oroitz had carefully chosen for her to peruse, it seemed nothing could best the experience of seeing works of art in person.

While the Eiscue admires the talent around her, Oroitz keeps his sharp eyes peeled for interesting stray Pokémon, while also making sure that he keeps close to his penguin companion. Perhaps he could rely on her to choose a particularly striking piece for his mantle... Something to match all the trophies he envisioned himself having.

[ChrisClark13]

Originally Posted by Prof.Enigma

Downtown - The Business & Commercial District

Commercial Boulevard: For those who love window shopping and spending major bucks, Commercial Boulevard is a great place to start. Lined with stores as far as the eye can see, if you’re looking for a particular item you can bet you’ll find it here. Even if you don’t have a goal in mind, browse the shop window displays for long enough and something is sure to steal your attention. The city council endeavors to keep wild Pokemon away from Commercial Boulevard, but that hasn’t stopped strays spilling out from its back alleys.

On this particular day, a teenage girl was forcing her way through the crowds. Though those who stopped to pay heed of her would quickly notice that something was odd about her.

Perhaps it was larger-than average Kantonian Ninetales practically attached to her hip on the right, or maybe the Thievul hovering around her left side- both of them acting as a buffer between her and the crowd. Or maybe they were simply protecting the curious and nervous Alolan Vulpix poking it's front paws and head out of the duffel bag hanging across the girl's shoulders. To be fair, none of that was too far out of the norm for Trainers.

What was really catching people's attention and keeping it was odd clothes she was wearing, not to mention how she was nearly 7ft in height. Though who looked closer past the (admittedly crumbling) aloof facade she was trying to wear would see that she looked like she was a scared animal ready to bolt at any moment.

- - -

Annahime's knuckles were nearly turning white with how tight she was holding onto the Pokedex in her hands. The former Pokemon's legs were stiff with unease as she followed the route the map app on it was dictating to her.

What was so important she would brave the crowded city?

Simply put, a food emergency. See, her home was nearly out of Pokemon Food and she had over a dozen hungry mouths to feed.
What also didn't help was that her home had also run out of human food days ago and she herself had taken to eaten the Pokemon food as well to ward off starvation. As a result, she was also more than a little hungry and weak at the moment.

Luckily, she had her Ninetales-self to guard her and Finnegan the Thievul had also (surprisingly) volunteered for guard duty. Jin the Alolan Vulpix being here was more a matter of, well- it was comforting to have her child by her side.

Annahime stopped for a moment to remind herself that all she had to do was ignore the people and Pokemon (especially the children) who were likely gawking at her and press forwards.

Get the food, get it back to the train, and go home.

Nevermind that she wouldn't be in this mess if she could figure out this stupid human technology and how... Curtis... managed to get the food delivered directly to her home.

With a huff, she resumed walking towards the "Premium Poke-Supply Store" the Pokedex was directing her to. After all, nothing but the best for herself and her team, right?

[Lil'twick]

Marion-

With an ambition for opulence on the mind, Fizzytopia's favorite himbo bird has found himself in New Fizz City. Here, his goal was to expand his own flock, as well as his trainer's. Even in the guise of a human, he was a Pokemon through and through. A Honchkrow to the core, looking to be the head honcho of his on land and crew.

Tagging along with Ysayle, an artistic soul and quiet peticular about her craft. While the Eiscue tended to stay within her ice cube, she came out when she found things that piqued her interest. Such as that, she and her current "trainer' have found themselves wandering the artists ally.

You, Oroitz, can see all sorts of manner of shops and stalls. Murals lining the alleyways, and artists of all kinds selling all sorts of wares. From paintings, to photography, to hand crafted goods. The smell of paint permiated the air, and all sorts of music played down this lively street. It was a sensory cocophany, yet one your companion was enamored with.

THen, she stops in her tracks, and your search halted. She points towards a sign, and you read it. "Summer Ice Sculpting Competition today! Sign-ups open until noon!" Well, great. Seems that has most certainly grabbed her attention. Yet, this could further your goal. If people were crowded in one place, then that meant food trucks trying to sell their craft. And with food... that attracts strays. Yes, this very much could work.

What do you do?

[Zelphon]

Originally Posted by Prof.Enigma

Sunder Island: Zelphon

Pumpkaboo hesitated to say something more but decided not to say anything as it was clear the human had made up her mind on the matter and nodded as the Shuppet apologized and explained.
"Pray for your safe return I do," Soon after the words spoken by the pumpkin pokemon, it took its partners and headed to a safe alcove.

As you trotted along, you soon realized that while within this landscape it shouldn't be hard to stumble upon, you had no fundamental understanding of the area nor of if there was a safe place to escape to should for whatever reason you have to turn tail.
Sauntering along the coastline you wandered aimlessly with no real direction to go in other than forwards.

You couldn't help but mull over that which the pumpkin Pokémon spoke of... A cover story... If that was the "cover" then perhaps what lies beneath the story? What truly happened there that forced officials to release that story which swayed nearly 500,000 people to abandon their homes and in some cases their pokemon to leave?

Another thing the pumpkin mentioned was dark powers... Shadowifcation? The process was well known within the Orre Region. Where pokemon forcibly have their hearts closed in an undisclosed process, there were rumors that ether was used to suppress their emotions, But, that cannot be confirmed nor denied. This could be what the Pumpkin was talking about, but you couldn't help but feel a nagging thought that whispered "what if it wasn't"...

While still thinking about all of the various possibilities involved with the situation Marietta absently steps on a particularly loose patch of the ground and stumbles, the trainer grunting as she regains her footing, digging one of her heels deep as possible.

Not wanting such a thing to occur in the event the coast prooves less generally safe from enemies as it seems the trainer once again calls forth Stella from their Pokeball and mounts the Dragapult, ordering them to fly as low as safely possible so as to avoid unwanted attention.

Safe aboard her trusted pokemon Marietta begins thinking of what her next course of action should be upon reaching the power plant, the trainer cursing her own impatience with the one friendly face she's seen since arriving on the island.

"Regardless, hopefully, once we've proved ourselves and uncover what truths we can the remaining barriers between our forces will dissolve so all might be on the table"

[Marion Ette]

Originally Posted by Lil'twick

Marion-

With an ambition for opulence on the mind, Fizzytopia's favorite himbo bird has found himself in New Fizz City. Here, his goal was to expand his own flock, as well as his trainer's. Even in the guise of a human, he was a Pokemon through and through. A Honchkrow to the core, looking to be the head honcho of his on land and crew.

Tagging along with Ysayle, an artistic soul and quiet peticular about her craft. While the Eiscue tended to stay within her ice cube, she came out when she found things that piqued her interest. Such as that, she and her current "trainer' have found themselves wandering the artists ally.

You, Oroitz, can see all sorts of manner of shops and stalls. Murals lining the alleyways, and artists of all kinds selling all sorts of wares. From paintings, to photography, to hand crafted goods. The smell of paint permiated the air, and all sorts of music played down this lively street. It was a sensory cocophany, yet one your companion was enamored with.

THen, she stops in her tracks, and your search halted. She points towards a sign, and you read it. "Summer Ice Sculpting Competition today! Sign-ups open until noon!" Well, great. Seems that has most certainly grabbed her attention. Yet, this could further your goal. If people were crowded in one place, then that meant food trucks trying to sell their craft. And with food... that attracts strays. Yes, this very much could work.

What do you do?

Regardless of the face he wears, Oroitz's heart will always be that of a Honchkrow - a preening mafioso whose actions are very much informed by its designation as the "Big Boss Pokémon". This is how he carries himself, walking down the street with swagger and bravado, which goes unnoticed - for all his pride, he is but a splash of pale skin and black attire in a world of spectacularly bright artists, and even his brilliant crimson eyes are completely drowned out by the color and vibrance around him. Ysayle, too, is far from deferential to this self-appointed Boss, wandering wherever her whims take her, until she stops in front of a sign that may as well have been an Eiscue-shaped hole in the side of a mountain, given how eerily specifically it seemed to be made for her.

Oroitz raises one eyebrow. So many questions... An ice-sculpting competition in the Summer? One that likely starts soon after mid-day, when the sun is at its highest and most severe? Was this some extra element of challenge to add excitement? Well, perhaps if Ysayle performs well in this contest, it will end her ceaseless complaining about being forced to work in sub-optimal conditions... Besides, the thought occurs to Oroitz that a festival such as this one was likely to attract strays with its abundance of food trucks and treats. Perhaps they could both walk away from this event with something valuable...

Much as the hair on Oroitz's neck stands on end from the... appropriateness of such an event happening at this very moment, it does occur to him that Ysayle would have her icy ears to the ground regarding such things, and may have been particularly adamant about adventuring to Artisan Avenue today as a result. Having no solid reasons to dissuade the little penguin from participating, and plenty of incentives to do so, he nods with a smile to his friend, who eagerly claps her flippers together before waddling off as fast as her little feet can carry her towards the competition. He follows swiftly behind, eyes ever alert, suspicions heightened... Then again, for the over-cautious Oroitz, when were they ever not?

[ShadowDRGN]

Liltwick - Feeling as though you had shown weakness when it was unnecessary, you tell Vivian to ignore your musings of the past—of what forces could have influenced the state of this world in the time you have “lost”. Such things are of no importance, now that you’ve found something you can devote yourself single-mindedly to: A contest between warriors is to be held soon, and you find no better goal than to observe and prevail!

Vivian seems perplexed—and understandably so—but she heeds your request to let it be. After all, she’s just as amped up for the Costume Clash as you are... well, perhaps she edges you on the fact that you notice that she’s practically vibrating with energy.

“Oh! Yeah, of course!” she replies eagerly, “there’s an elevator over that way that goes up to the roof. We have permission to go up there, as long as we let someone on the staff know.”

The costumed girl bids you to follow once more, and gives the charm vendor a wave goodbye before the both of you disappear down the hall. The din of the convention grows ever more distant, replaced instead by the hum of the electrical lights above, and the vacant ambience of these strange, inornate halls.

Vivian brings you before a set of metallic doors, all polished to a mirror shine, with no apparent way to open it. She leans forward to press a button on the door frame, which lights up at her touch. A few seconds later, the doors slide open under their own power, revealing the inside of the room to be a tiny box—a seemingly dead end.

You shuffle inside as the doors close, and you immediately notice the suspension which seems to be holding the room aloft. Vivian fiddles with the tower of buttons off to the side, causing the room to lurch, and begin climbing upwards! It’s a remarkably similar feeling to riding in Sneasler’s basket, yet far more efficient, if the display next to the door is any indication.

Sunlight floods into the room as the doors open again, the elevator having carried you to the top of the convention center. A chain link fence encloses the perimeter of the roof, and you can see strange metal boxes sitting in rows, constantly billowing with air. Looking out over the edges, you can see the city through which you wandered as though it were a view from the slopes of Mt. Coronet—vast, certainly, but any given person or thing seems almost insignificant against the whole.

“See? There’s plenty of space here to get some training in!” Vivian says, smiling as brightly as the sun itself. Perhaps wanting to get some practice in, as well, she pulls a trio of Pokeballs from her bag and tosses them out in front of her. Rather than a cloud of smoke, these sleeker models release the Pokemon inside amidst a flash of light!

Of the three Pokemon she’s chosen, you recognize only one—and even then, only vaguely. Insectoid wings keep aloft a Pokemon with a glossy, metallic body and large, sheer-like claws: A Scizor, just like the ones encountered in the rifts! Beside it is a large arachnid with yellow fur, from which a static fills the air. And finally, a very large centipede clad in a violet exoskeleton—quite similar to Vivian’s costume—whose head is adorned with a pair of twisted horns.

“Hotaru, meet Tony, Gwen, and Loki! Consider them my partners in crime-fighting,” Vivian giggles, her enthusiasm clearly shared with each member of her team.

What will you do?

[Lil'twick]

Originally Posted by ShadowDRGN

Liltwick - Feeling as though you had shown weakness when it was unnecessary, you tell Vivian to ignore your musings of the past—of what forces could have influenced the state of this world in the time you have “lost”. Such things are of no importance, now that you’ve found something you can devote yourself single-mindedly to: A contest between warriors is to be held soon, and you find no better goal than to observe and prevail!

Vivian seems perplexed—and understandably so—but she heeds your request to let it be. After all, she’s just as amped up for the Costume Clash as you are... well, perhaps she edges you on the fact that you notice that she’s practically vibrating with energy.

“Oh! Yeah, of course!” she replies eagerly, “there’s an elevator over that way that goes up to the roof. We have permission to go up there, as long as we let someone on the staff know.”

The costumed girl bids you to follow once more, and gives the charm vendor a wave goodbye before the both of you disappear down the hall. The din of the convention grows ever more distant, replaced instead by the hum of the electrical lights above, and the vacant ambience of these strange, inornate halls.

Vivian brings you before a set of metallic doors, all polished to a mirror shine, with no apparent way to open it. She leans forward to press a button on the door frame, which lights up at her touch. A few seconds later, the doors slide open under their own power, revealing the inside of the room to be a tiny box—a seemingly dead end.

You shuffle inside as the doors close, and you immediately notice the suspension which seems to be holding the room aloft. Vivian fiddles with the tower of buttons off to the side, causing the room to lurch, and begin climbing upwards! It’s a remarkably similar feeling to riding in Sneasler’s basket, yet far more efficient, if the display next to the door is any indication.

Sunlight floods into the room as the doors open again, the elevator having carried you to the top of the convention center. A chain link fence encloses the perimeter of the roof, and you can see strange metal boxes sitting in rows, constantly billowing with air. Looking out over the edges, you can see the city through which you wandered as though it were a view from the slopes of Mt. Coronet—vast, certainly, but any given person or thing seems almost insignificant against the whole.

“See? There’s plenty of space here to get some training in!” Vivian says, smiling as brightly as the sun itself. Perhaps wanting to get some practice in, as well, she pulls a trio of Pokeballs from her bag and tosses them out in front of her. Rather than a cloud of smoke, these sleeker models release the Pokemon inside amidst a flash of light!

Of the three Pokemon she’s chosen, you recognize only one—and even then, only vaguely. Insectoid wings keep aloft a Pokemon with a glossy, metallic body and large, sheer-like claws: A Scizor, just like the ones encountered in the rifts! Beside it is a large arachnid with yellow fur, from which a static fills the air. And finally, a very large centipede clad in a violet exoskeleton—quite similar to Vivian’s costume—whose head is adorned with a pair of twisted horns.

“Hotaru, meet Tony, Gwen, and Loki! Consider them my partners in crime-fighting,” Vivian giggles, her enthusiasm clearly shared with each member of her team.

What will you do?

The Hisuian ninja was in awe at the elevator, even if he knew not what that word was. The advancements of the human race were racing through his mind, the entire convention being a sensory experience he was doing his best to ignore. Yet, this was something he couldn't. Nothing could be ignored now, especially with the oncoming skyline.

He could see what felt like the entire world from the room they were now in. The city's skyline, and the lands beyond. To really think he was from a time when buildings weren't mountains. That was more than enough for him to feel... empty. That the past, where he had his life, was a hollow shell compared to the future. These halls held stories that none of them could ever dream to think were true.

"Thank you for taking me here," the man nodded in response to Vivian, finally having taken in the sights.

He then looked over her squad of bug types, barely familiar with them. Scizor... an alternate, futuristic evolution of Scyther. Nothing like the Obsidian Warden; Kleavor. Then a giant electrified arachnid and an even larger centipede. He could tell from the coloration it was poisonous, which may prove a problem.

Taking his Poke Balls, which he had made himself, he released his own squad. The first was a ghostly evolution of a Cyndaquil, a Typhlosion adapted to the environments of the ancient Hisui region. Next was a Pokemon that was only found in ancient times, Sneasler. Last was yet another regional version of a modern Pokemon, her limb legs much different from modern Lilligant.

"Momiji, Kiba, and Lili," he responds curtly.

He knew Momiji would crisp up any of these bug types, and wouldn't exactly be fair for training. Lili had a lot of utility and saw combat often to allow for hastily escape through her various powders. Kiba, however, was mostly used to being used for transport... Yes, Kiba needed the most training.

"Kiba, you're up."

The Sneasler let out a happy growl and stepped next to his trainer. The Pokemon was careful to not touch his trainer, in case he accidentally poisoned, and then made an acrobatic flip forwards before presuming his fighting stance. Regardless of his foe, he would do his best to train up.

[Lil'twick]

Marion-

While the event itself seemed outlandish, especially with the uncanny circumstances to say the least... You eventually reach the decision this would be beneficial for both of you. Ysayle would get to let out her creativity, and you would have a good rogue's gallery to try and recruit from. Besides, there surely had to be even more prizes if you manage to win this thing!

The Eiscue races off happily, more than determined to get there on time. You run after her, wishing you could transform and take flight. Yet, even you had enough intelligence to know that would be an incredibly bad idea. "Human turns into Honckrow" would be plastered all over the papers and net. Sister Minvera would more than scold you for that, and powers above most likely worse.

Regardless, you manage to catch up to her. You reach a small square strafed by the street on both sides. Seems this was a little plaza where they held competitions and events, and was a mini park when not in use. You could see a small stand where sign-ups were for the competition... but no ice. Then you realized why they would hold it in the summer. Ice-typed Pokemon would have to make the ice themselves. And since most don't like the heat... that added an extra layer to this competition.

"Hello, Sir! Is this Eiscue yours?" the person behind the counter flags you down.

You then see Ysayle standing there, trying to enter the contest before you could cross the street. Typical artists, wish their best to show off their craft. You just nod and walk over before being handed a clipboard. Guess you needed to fill out all of these details before you entered.

"If you do sign-up, you'll fill the last slot today," the person states.

Still had a chance to back out after all.

What do you do?

[ShadowDRGN]

Originally Posted by Lil'twick

Shadow-

As you look at the footage, you realize what was gunking up the revival machine. It was a dragon-type and one that your sister had told you about previously. A Goomy! A native of the Kalos region, though there were reports it use to live in Sinnoh a long time ago. Why they were no longer found there was still a scientific mystery, but that wasn't relevant to this matter.

With your knowledge of Pokemon, you make a suggestion on the matter. Increase the temperature to try and dry it out, so it would be easier to locate and retrieve. The Pokemon did not handle the heat well, even if its Dragon-typing made it resistant to fire. Before the doctor could even speak, you hear one of the techs in the room speak up.

"Unable to do that kid. That half of the building is temperature controlled so each specific department can best conduct its research. If we increase the temperature on that side of the building, the Genetics department is at risk of their cryo chambers' delicate balance being messed up," the technician explains.

"However." A different one speaks up. "We have a multi-lock chamber system that runs beneath the lobby onto the other half of the building. That's where our standard offices are. Alongside departments such as engineering and technology are. If you can chase it there, that's something we'd be able to do."

"If you don't catch the thing first," the one who first spoke laughs.

While this was going on, you notice the professor rummaging through a cabinet titled maintenance. He pulls out a few different protective suits, looks at you, before coming back with one.

"Here, put this on over your clothes Hatchley. It'll protect your skin from the temperatures within the air ventilation system. Once that's on, give the word and we'll send you in with a communicator so we can give you status updates.

What do you do?

Just when it seems like a halfway clever thought has left the Dragon Tamer’s mouth, the technician shoots him down. His smile sags, and he lets out an exasperated sigh, “right, I get it. Freezers gotta be kept cold, otherwise the genetic popsicles’d melt, yeah? I don’t want a little Goomy to cause all that trouble for you.”

Even so, the fact that they’re willing to entertain his idea shows at least a little merit. If he can find a way to chase the slimy gremlin into the right spot, then they could spring his trap. Of course he should be trying to catch it as quickly as possible, but if all else fails, it’s nice to know he has an ace up his sleeve.

As for how, exactly, all that multi-lock HVAC gunk worked... well—he’s not being paid to think about that, now is he?

Before he can become a master of infiltration, however, Dr. Richards hands him the boilersuit. He listens to the doctor explain its purpose, all the while holding it out in front of him like he’s in a fitting room: The whole thing is a sterile white, and absolutely covered in wrinkles, as though they were sewn from shower curtains.

“Thank you, Doctor,” he says, trying his best to keep his disappointment from seeping into his voice. It’s not that he didn’t appreciate it, it’s more that this suit makes him look just so... lame!

Swallowing his pride, Hatchley steps into the pant legs of the suit, and begins pulling the rest up over his body. Most of his ensemble has enough room to fit underneath the protective fabric, but he realizes quickly that his cloak is hindering him—wear it inside, and it’ll be bunched up and restrict his movements, but wear it outside, and he’s in big trouble if he encounters a giant fan blade while crawling through the ventilation system.

In the midst of his uncertainty, he glances down at the lone Pokeball hanging from his hip. His cloak, and his partner—everything he is rests within them. The legacy of his family’s consort with dragons, and his proof of being a part of it... and also his sole protection against the untamed beast under his wing.

He clenches his fist tightly. What good is he if he can’t trust his own Pokemon? Why come here and spend all this time trying to understand Prince’s feelings, if in the end he isn’t able to even try and reach out. How can he expect his Tyrunt to trust him, if he’s only ever treated with caution?

Hatchley undoes the broach at the front of his cloak, and begins neatly folding it up into a square. The humid chill of the greenhouse raises the hairs on his arms, now exposed for a brief moment while he packs the cape away and finishes putting on his protective gear.

It feels odd, as though shedding just a thin sheet of fabric ended up lifting a huge weight off his shoulders. He turns to Dr. Richards, his expression clearly showing the heaviness of his decision, while his eyes burn with a determination to see this through, no matter what.

“I’m ready,” he states, holding out his hand to receive his communicator, “just tell me where I’m headed, and I’ll handle the rest.”

[Lil'twick]

Shadow-

Putting on your suit, you prepare to enter the labyrinth that was the building's air conditioning system. With a deep breath, you see as the door gets unlocked for you, before being given a simple missive. The paleontology department. That was where the Pokemon was last seen, so it was best to check that first. So, it was time to enter the cold.

As you enter, you are hit with a blast of frigid, dry air. It's almost suffocating, and any dragon-type would hate this. It was awful, truly. Yet, you needed to push forwards. Push on. And you, and you get into a large tunnel. It would make sense that there would be human-sized tunnels in this building. They would need to often come in here to maintain the fans.

There was a windy chill throughout the ventilation shafts, and you could hear the hums of fans. This would be a lot more dangerous than you thought, as one wrong turn could lead to losing your footing. Yet, you notice something odd. There was no way to communicate here or even cameras. You were truly alone, with only your instinct to guide you.

As your trek continues, you soon get to a fork in the shaft. One that continued forwards, and one that headed to the right. The forward path felt more frigid, while there was a certain... humidity to the one to the right. Yet, you also could hear a loud hum coming from that direction. This was the first major choice in this dungeon.

What do you do?

[Marion Ette]

Originally Posted by Lil'twick

Marion-

While the event itself seemed outlandish, especially with the uncanny circumstances to say the least... You eventually reach the decision this would be beneficial for both of you. Ysayle would get to let out her creativity, and you would have a good rogue's gallery to try and recruit from. Besides, there surely had to be even more prizes if you manage to win this thing!

The Eiscue races off happily, more than determined to get there on time. You run after her, wishing you could transform and take flight. Yet, even you had enough intelligence to know that would be an incredibly bad idea. "Human turns into Honckrow" would be plastered all over the papers and net. Sister Minvera would more than scold you for that, and powers above most likely worse.

Regardless, you manage to catch up to her. You reach a small square strafed by the street on both sides. Seems this was a little plaza where they held competitions and events, and was a mini park when not in use. You could see a small stand where sign-ups were for the competition... but no ice. Then you realized why they would hold it in the summer. Ice-typed Pokemon would have to make the ice themselves. And since most don't like the heat... that added an extra layer to this competition.

"Hello, Sir! Is this Eiscue yours?" the person behind the counter flags you down.

You then see Ysayle standing there, trying to enter the contest before you could cross the street. Typical artists, wish their best to show off their craft. You just nod and walk over before being handed a clipboard. Guess you needed to fill out all of these details before you entered.

"If you do sign-up, you'll fill the last slot today," the person states.

Still had a chance to back out after all.

What do you do?

Oroitz curses his inefficient human legs as Ysayle's adorable penguin waddle becomes a cartoonish, yet powerful sprint. Though taking wing does cross his mind briefly, the act of transforming would be sure to draw unwanted attention. Already, rumors were circulating from the Casino of Minerva's shapeshifting servant, or friend, or lover - the tabloids and gossipers couldn't quite agree - and he was all too aware of the rumor mill's viciousness in the days when Minerva's relationship with Keith drew gasps and bitter whispers from the populous. Never again, he murmurs to himself.

For the sake of Sister Minerva's reputation - and to avoid her implacable ire - Oroitz remains grounded, pursuing Ysayle to the best of his ability. Eventually, he catches up to her at the sign-up counter, realizing that this competition seems to have been specifically geared towards Pokémon who can generate their own ice - to defy their natural inclination towards colder temperatures in order to participate, which serves as a special challenge for these artists to overcome. With a nod, Oroitz confirms that Ysayle is his Eiscue to the person behind the counter, who then hands Oroitz a clipboard.

Last chance to back out... But there really was no chance, was there? He had never seen Ysayle so happy, and to dash her hopes now would be cruel. A flash of Rhubarb nearly drowning in poffin dough pops in his mind, causing him to wince... He couldn't be sure that Ysayle wouldn't face a similarly harrowing trial as part of this competition, but part of becoming a Master of Pokémon was allowing his dear friends to face their own challenges, and to guide them through.

Suddenly fancying himself a calligrapher of great talent, he fills out the form with a flourish, before signing Oroitz Pentsatu Belasco on the dotted line... With penmanship akin to a third grader's. Even so, he holds his handiwork out to the person behind the counter as if it was a work of art in its own right. Ysayle, of course, doesn't care what chicken scratch is on that form, as long as it gets her into the contest - which clearly delights the little ice-type, sunny weather or not.

Oroitz turns to the Eiscue with a stern expression. "Now, Ysayle... You take care to keep your wits about you, yes? Don't... Ysayle. YSAYLE! Are you listening to me?"

Ysayle was not listening. Her mind swirls with ideas, concepts, designs... Grand works of art, conjured with imaginary ice, to a first place medal that she could almost feel being placed around her neck...

"It would be a shame for you to lose this competition on a technicality," Oroitz remarks, which finally draws the penguin's attention. "Ah, don't want that, do you? Then let's take care to learn the rules of this competition first. I'm sure we can find them somewhere..."

[ShadowDRGN]

Liltwick - Whatever Vivian was expecting you to bring to the competition, she could scarcely imagine that you were packing three Pokemon from a time long past. Her eyes widen in disbelief, spurring her to start rooting through her bag.

She pulls out another one of those odd slates and holds it sideways in front of her, adjusting it slightly until the backside is pointed toward each of your Pokemon. After a moment of holding the device still, she reorients it in her hands, poking and clawing at its glowing surface. You can judge from her eyes that she’s reading whatever is inscribed there—and is becoming progressively more perturbed by her findings.

Likewise, you take this time to analyze her own team. She seems fond of Bug-types, and despite your unfamiliarity with the ones on display here, you can make an educated guess that deep purples spell danger for your allies. Momiji could handle himself, naturally, but you’d hardly get any good experience out of using him as pest control, and so you decide that Kiba stands to benefit most from this exercise.

Seeing the acrobatic Sneasler step forward catches Vivian’s attention away from pouring over her phone. Shaking her head clear, she throws it back into its bag, and returns her focus to the spar.

“Sorry, I just—” she starts, sounding shaken by something before she takes a deep breath, “I haven’t seen those Pokemon before, so I was checking my Pokedex for any info on ‘em. ‘Course, the best way to learn about a Pokemon is to observe one in action! Loki, you’re up!”

The Scoliopede nods, trudging forward and turning his segmented body to appear much larger before its foe. Poison-tipped horns and claws on both sides gleam in the sunlight, but neither seem intent on brandishing them—after all, a matchup like this hinges much more on having better off-typing offense than their opponent.

Once both of you are ready, the training begins. Giving orders to your Pokemon as though it were a real battle, they nonetheless exchange those moves with just enough restraint to prevent their opponent from getting seriously hurt.

As you suspected, Kiba definitely needs a bit of time to catch up with his peers. His reflexes are slow, and his form is loose—especially with the handicap that most of his moveset isn’t very effective on any of his foes, save for Scizor. With your keen eye and calm, yet stern direction, however, you see a marked improvement as he continues to practice striking and dodging against the heroic insects!

*Kiba gains 2 Level from his training!*

You notice something rather interesting while observing the spar, as well. Though both of your Pokemon are clearly holding back, you can still sense a vast difference between the way they fight. Vivian’s style lacks the survival instinct that is so deeply ingrained into your own—where your Pokemon strike with the intent to end the fight as quickly as possible, the moves that Vivian’s Pokemon use have been refined to the point where it resembles a martial art.

Repeatable and reliable, yet rigid. Rather than adjusting a move’s power to suit the situation, it seems that Trainers in this age select moves that are made specifically for one purpose...

You let Momiji and Lili shake off their rust a bit, as well—though in the former’s case, it’s more that Vivian wanted to use him as practice for dodging her team’s shared weakness—and eventually you hear a chime come from within the costumed girl’s bag.

She pulls out the phone again, silences the alarm, and looks at you with a determined expression, “15 minutes until it starts. We should head back and get ready.”

Praising each of her Pokemon for their hard work, Vivian returns them to their balls and leads Hotaru back towards the elevator. The doors slide open upon being called, and you step into the mysterious traveling box once more. You feel your body lighten as it descends the interior of the building, and were it not for the roof above your head, you feel almost like you could jump and not come back down.

Despite her prior excitement for the tournament, Vivian seems troubled by something. She leans against the railing with a ponderous scowl on her face, and when she thinks you aren’t looking she steals a glance at you. Whatever’s on her mind appears to concern you.

“Hey... Hotaru?” she speaks hesitantly, rubbing her armor-clad shoulder, “I’ve been wondering about something. Please don’t laugh at me for asking this, but are you... actually from Hisui? Did you fall through Dialga’s Gate and end up here?”

“I’ve been thinking about it ever since you pulled out all those coins. It’s... not easy to get ahold of those, especially if you’re just using them as a prop. Plus... If I’m honest, it doesn’t seem like you’re acting lost or playing a character. That’s genuinely how you’re feeling, isn’t it?”

The elevator comes to a stop, causing Vivian to flinch slightly. She seems uncertain of herself, like she’s expecting you to laugh off her admittedly rather far-fetched theory. She saunters out into the hall, carrying on towards the convention hall with only a couple minutes to spare.

What do you do?

[ShadowDRGN]

Originally Posted by Lil'twick

Shadow-

Putting on your suit, you prepare to enter the labyrinth that was the building's air conditioning system. With a deep breath, you see as the door gets unlocked for you, before being given a simple missive. The paleontology department. That was where the Pokemon was last seen, so it was best to check that first. So, it was time to enter the cold.

As you enter, you are hit with a blast of frigid, dry air. It's almost suffocating, and any dragon-type would hate this. It was awful, truly. Yet, you needed to push forwards. Push on. And you, and you get into a large tunnel. It would make sense that there would be human-sized tunnels in this building. They would need to often come in here to maintain the fans.

There was a windy chill throughout the ventilation shafts, and you could hear the hums of fans. This would be a lot more dangerous than you thought, as one wrong turn could lead to losing your footing. Yet, you notice something odd. There was no way to communicate here or even cameras. You were truly alone, with only your instinct to guide you.

As your trek continues, you soon get to a fork in the shaft. One that continued forwards, and one that headed to the right. The forward path felt more frigid, while there was a certain... humidity to the one to the right. Yet, you also could hear a loud hum coming from that direction. This was the first major choice in this dungeon.

What do you do?

No amount of crawling through virtual ventilation shafts in stealth games could really prepare Hatchley for the real thing. Video games simply can’t capture the reality of being enclosed within a metal tunnel, the rivet-studded floor practically chewing through the soles of his shoes while an inhospitable wind howls past his body.

It’s like walking through a man-made blizzard, with his protective suit the only thing keeping him from being chilled to the bone. Prince would fare even worse in this icy hell, and so Hatchley elects to keep him within his ball until he is absolutely needed. Besides, he already imagines that his own stomping around is already giving the scientists in the surrounding rooms enough of a headache, as it is.

Push forwards. Hatchley repeats these words like a mantra as he fights against the torrential gale. He doesn’t advance mindlessly, however, as the humming of fan blades and sharply-angled slopes represent a very real danger. No step is taken without looking where he’s going, and he concentrates on using his ears to discern the direction of any hidden fans, though with the sound reverberating all around him, it’s no easy task.

Certainly, the word “dungeon” fits this place to a T—he’s faced with twisty little passages, all alike, a darkness and dankness that should not exist within any space meant for a human to tread, and countless traps hiding around every corner. Extra fitting, then, that his task is to hunt down a slime in this sprawling labyrinth... hopefully the Goomy hasn’t mutated to fill the vent wall-to-wall and end up chasing him down like a Gelatinous Cube.

Eventually, he comes to his first major fork in the road; down one tunnel, things seem to be perhaps not warmer, but at least wetter, while he can practically see ice crystals floating in the air down the other path. If he has to guess, the latter path leads to those cryo-freezers he had been told about.

“Hey, Doc. Can you hear me?” he relays into his communicator, “I’m at a fork. One of them gets colder, but the other one feels humid. Any idea where they lead?”

Hatchley waits for a response, but the radio is dead silent. Shit. Of course the signal wouldn’t reach them from somewhere so enclosed. It seems he’s truly on his own now, with no one to guide him, and no one to help him.

Stashing the device away, Hatchley takes another look at the paths before him. Considering the Pokemon he’s dealing with, it didn’t make sense to go down the even colder, drier path. If there’s anywhere that Goomy would linger around, it would be where there’s moisture to draw from.

Nodding to himself, Hatchley turns right and starts making his way towards the humid air. Weary of the possibility of walking into a heating unit or some other hazard, he makes sure to watch his step and monitor the temperature closely.

Not that it matters what kind of hell he’s made to wade through—he’s going to find this Goomy, and give it a much nicer home than some musty old vents.

[Lil'twick]

Marion-

With the form submitted, you are now formally entered into the contest. This was going to be a headache, you could already feel it. Yet, how so is something you only had the foggiest idea on. So, with that in mind, you soon begin to speak to your feathered friend. Let her know that it was best not to get carried away, and instead learn the rules of the competition before making any rash decisions.

You soon are informed of the rules, and they are surprisingly simple. Trainer and Pokemon must create their own ice for the competition, with only tools provided. Each round there will be a brief that the duo must follow while creating elaborate sculptures within a set time limit. Each round will get harder, with the brief getting more and more specific. Contestants will be judged on three criteria: Brief, Technique, and Originality.

Brief is self-explanatory, with how well the piece matches the brief given. Technique is also self-explanatory, with how the duo showcases their skills in creating the sculpture. Last is originality, showing how they interpreted the brief, the uniqueness of the piece, and how the artists showcase themselves through the piece.

With that in mind, the both of you are soon pointed to the crafting area, and see seven other contestants here. With how specialized this art contest was, it would make sense only a small handful of entrants entered. You also look atthe judges table, seeing three individuals sitting there. All of them seem to be distinguished individuals, yet you recognize none of them.

"Welcome one and all!" you hear a voice boom, and see a rather zany dressed man walk up holding a microphone.

"I'll be your host for the competition today! For those who don't know me, it's MC Frost! Resident DJ and contest host of the alley!" the man introduces himself, and you realize that the entire avenue is now making their way over.

The smell of food soon permeates the air, as you notice a few food trucks parked. All sorts of cuisine from different corners of the world are offered, and you can see rustling beneath the trucks. Seems more than just people are here... perhaps you could sneak away between rounds the scrounge for new members of the flock? Yet, the man's voice snaps you back.

"Introducing our judges for the day, we have local talk show host Emma Gardein!" MC Frost announces before a stout brunette woman waves her hand. You can see she is doing her best copycat look of the Hoenn Elite Four's Glacia.

"Next up is Richard Sykes! Everyone knows him as being our local contest judge, hailing all the way from Hearthome City!"

A distinguished gentleman tips his hat, and you can hear a few bystanders cheer. Looks like he'll be the hardest one to impress, especially if he is a registered contest judge. While you haven't heard much about that, you know that it is an arduous process.

"Lastly is last year's winner as our guest judge!" the host shouts, and you see a slender framed teenager stands up. From the looks of it, he was in his mid to late teens, with dyed light blue hair and a pair of shades.

"Thank you all for coming, I wish you all luck in this years competition," he begins to speak. "For those of you I recognize from last year, I hope you have come prepared."

"Thank you Eli, now let me ask you a question. Will we get a special appearance from your Pokemon partner this year?" the MC asks him. The teenager shakes his head.

"I feel if I brought it out, it would affect the conditions too much."

"Fair enough then. Let me introduce the contestants then!"

The man soon starts giving introductions. While this was a lot of information, you noted what Pokemon they had. Jynx, Galarian Mr. Mime, Bergmite, Sneasel, Cubchoo, Froslass, and Alolan Sandslash. Certainly, a varied group, and some would prove to be more difficult than others to overcome.

"Now, onto this rounds brief! We'll give you all half an hour to plan, and then two hours to create your piece! And this rounds brief is..." the host rips open an envelope. "Oceans! Anything involving the ocean is fair game! What a fun, summery theme to kick off this competition! Your thirty minutes starts... now!"

What do you do?

Shadow-

Making your decision, you head down the more humid of the two routes. It made obvious sense that a pokemon like Goomy wouldn't be down the colder, drier route. Something much more humid would fit the Pokemon well, so the path to the right was the choice.

Pushing forwards, you can feel the ventilation shaft starting to get danker, and... musty. There was a certain smell permeating the air now, and it felt almost nauseating. Yet, you needed to push forwards. If you were going to find this thing gunking up the machines, you needed to.

You soon started to hear noises, and realize there were smaller shafts branching off. Shafts you had no way you could fit into, that most likely went into individual rooms. Most of them were out of your reach, though some of them were near your feet. The noise of you moving about would be obvious at this point, but your query was slow.

Then, something felt off. You hear a... crunching noise ahead. At this point, the shaft felt incredibly humid and musty. The scent turned metallic, and there was something incredibly wrong. The air was heavy, and the breeze had stopped. It was warm, too warm. And then you arrive at the situation.

Moss and mold were covering the shaft, and you see the main fan rusted over. You had no clue in the building this was, but this was a biohazard. Yet, you don't see any slime here. Just the... unnatural life. You then see a shadowy figure shift from behind the fan. Something that decidedly was not amorphous in shape. Something that could create this damp, hellish environment... Of course, this wasn't what you needed to deal with. Yet, this was still very much a problem.

What do you do?

[Lil'twick]

Originally Posted by ShadowDRGN

Liltwick - Whatever Vivian was expecting you to bring to the competition, she could scarcely imagine that you were packing three Pokemon from a time long past. Her eyes widen in disbelief, spurring her to start rooting through her bag.

She pulls out another one of those odd slates and holds it sideways in front of her, adjusting it slightly until the backside is pointed toward each of your Pokemon. After a moment of holding the device still, she reorients it in her hands, poking and clawing at its glowing surface. You can judge from her eyes that she’s reading whatever is inscribed there—and is becoming progressively more perturbed by her findings.

Likewise, you take this time to analyze her own team. She seems fond of Bug-types, and despite your unfamiliarity with the ones on display here, you can make an educated guess that deep purples spell danger for your allies. Momiji could handle himself, naturally, but you’d hardly get any good experience out of using him as pest control, and so you decide that Kiba stands to benefit most from this exercise.

Seeing the acrobatic Sneasler step forward catches Vivian’s attention away from pouring over her phone. Shaking her head clear, she throws it back into its bag, and returns her focus to the spar.

“Sorry, I just—” she starts, sounding shaken by something before she takes a deep breath, “I haven’t seen those Pokemon before, so I was checking my Pokedex for any info on ‘em. ‘Course, the best way to learn about a Pokemon is to observe one in action! Loki, you’re up!”

The Scoliopede nods, trudging forward and turning his segmented body to appear much larger before its foe. Poison-tipped horns and claws on both sides gleam in the sunlight, but neither seem intent on brandishing them—after all, a matchup like this hinges much more on having better off-typing offense than their opponent.

Once both of you are ready, the training begins. Giving orders to your Pokemon as though it were a real battle, they nonetheless exchange those moves with just enough restraint to prevent their opponent from getting seriously hurt.

As you suspected, Kiba definitely needs a bit of time to catch up with his peers. His reflexes are slow, and his form is loose—especially with the handicap that most of his moveset isn’t very effective on any of his foes, save for Scizor. With your keen eye and calm, yet stern direction, however, you see a marked improvement as he continues to practice striking and dodging against the heroic insects!

*Kiba gains 2 Level from his training!*

You notice something rather interesting while observing the spar, as well. Though both of your Pokemon are clearly holding back, you can still sense a vast difference between the way they fight. Vivian’s style lacks the survival instinct that is so deeply ingrained into your own—where your Pokemon strike with the intent to end the fight as quickly as possible, the moves that Vivian’s Pokemon use have been refined to the point where it resembles a martial art.

Repeatable and reliable, yet rigid. Rather than adjusting a move’s power to suit the situation, it seems that Trainers in this age select moves that are made specifically for one purpose...

You let Momiji and Lili shake off their rust a bit, as well—though in the former’s case, it’s more that Vivian wanted to use him as practice for dodging her team’s shared weakness—and eventually you hear a chime come from within the costumed girl’s bag.

She pulls out the phone again, silences the alarm, and looks at you with a determined expression, “15 minutes until it starts. We should head back and get ready.”

Praising each of her Pokemon for their hard work, Vivian returns them to their balls and leads Hotaru back towards the elevator. The doors slide open upon being called, and you step into the mysterious traveling box once more. You feel your body lighten as it descends the interior of the building, and were it not for the roof above your head, you feel almost like you could jump and not come back down.

Despite her prior excitement for the tournament, Vivian seems troubled by something. She leans against the railing with a ponderous scowl on her face, and when she thinks you aren’t looking she steals a glance at you. Whatever’s on her mind appears to concern you.

“Hey... Hotaru?” she speaks hesitantly, rubbing her armor-clad shoulder, “I’ve been wondering about something. Please don’t laugh at me for asking this, but are you... actually from Hisui? Did you fall through Dialga’s Gate and end up here?”

“I’ve been thinking about it ever since you pulled out all those coins. It’s... not easy to get ahold of those, especially if you’re just using them as a prop. Plus... If I’m honest, it doesn’t seem like you’re acting lost or playing a character. That’s genuinely how you’re feeling, isn’t it?”

The elevator comes to a stop, causing Vivian to flinch slightly. She seems uncertain of herself, like she’s expecting you to laugh off her admittedly rather far-fetched theory. She saunters out into the hall, carrying on towards the convention hall with only a couple minutes to spare.

What do you do?

The ninja watched carefully, observing his Pokemon as they trained. While there was a little bit of rust, he could tell they took every movement to heart. Each mistake is a lesson. Each move is a stride forwards. With that in mind, he could see them gradually return to fighting form. Kiba seemed to finally get his footing. Good, they stood a chance in this competition now.

Yet, the woman who had so graciously been with him this entire time was off. He could tell since he sent out his squad, and was waiting for her to speak her mind. Sooner or later she would have to reveal her thoughts, and she did. As they rode down the elevator, she voiced her theories about him. That he wasn't just some dedicated cosplayer. That he was the real deal, and he formulated a response.

"I've arrived in this land today, in your sense of time. I was on a mission to track an exile when I fell through a distortion." He pauses for a second. "Dialga is not a term I am familiar with... yet the Diamond Clan's Lord Sinnoh is said to hold control over time. Yet, the distortions plaguing my homeland Hisui are both space and time," he responds to her.

"So, this is who I am. Someone from a time long past... Seems my time was romanticized and fantasized in this period of time. Is that why everyone assumed I was an actor? Playing a role?" he then questions, voicing his own thoughts. He then shakes his head.

"I'm here now, alone. This is my first time acting without orders. So, until I can figure out a way to return, my mission is to explore this land. I do thank you for what you've done for me. Now, it's time to fight in this bout of strength, right? Let us begin."

[ShadowDRGN]

Originally Posted by Lil'twick

Shadow-

Making your decision, you head down the more humid of the two routes. It made obvious sense that a pokemon like Goomy wouldn't be down the colder, drier route. Something much more humid would fit the Pokemon well, so the path to the right was the choice.

Pushing forwards, you can feel the ventilation shaft starting to get danker, and... musty. There was a certain smell permeating the air now, and it felt almost nauseating. Yet, you needed to push forwards. If you were going to find this thing gunking up the machines, you needed to.

You soon started to hear noises, and realize there were smaller shafts branching off. Shafts you had no way you could fit into, that most likely went into individual rooms. Most of them were out of your reach, though some of them were near your feet. The noise of you moving about would be obvious at this point, but your query was slow.

Then, something felt off. You hear a... crunching noise ahead. At this point, the shaft felt incredibly humid and musty. The scent turned metallic, and there was something incredibly wrong. The air was heavy, and the breeze had stopped. It was warm, too warm. And then you arrive at the situation.

Moss and mold were covering the shaft, and you see the main fan rusted over. You had no clue in the building this was, but this was a biohazard. Yet, you don't see any slime here. Just the... unnatural life. You then see a shadowy figure shift from behind the fan. Something that decidedly was not amorphous in shape. Something that could create this damp, hellish environment... Of course, this wasn't what you needed to deal with. Yet, this was still very much a problem.

What do you do?

Though he cannot not discern how far he’s actually gone, the fact that the air itself is changing is at least some indication of progress. More than likely, the gradient he’s experiencing is a sign that he’s passing through another department, with entirely different ventilation needs than the one next to it.

Unfortunately, that gradient also smells rank. The teen’s cheeks disappear into his eyes, and before he can even take another step forward he’s grasping for the respirator dangling from his neck. He pulls the straps taught against his head, and as the seal forms the soft hiss of filtered breaths fills his ears.

It certainly isn’t comfortable, and it blunts his senses until all he could smell is chemically-treated rubber, but it’s better than breathing in spores and rust—or whatever the hell else is causing that horrible stench. What, is there a lab nearby trying to distill the essence of gym clothes?

Feeling adequately protected, he continues forward. As he walks, his eyes sweep across all sides of the shaft for hazards. The numerous, inaccessible offshoots caught his eye, but there’s little he can do about them. Even if he has Prince squeeze inside, his Pokeball has a limited range to return him from, and if he ends up venturing too far and getting stuck—well, needless to say he isn’t willing to risk it.

And so, with only one path to follow, he creeps ever deeper, unnerved by the noises that permeate that which is just beyond sight. He can feel dew condensing on his coveralls, the rising heat trying to force its way into his body. Little flakes of rust float through the air, spurring him to slip on a pair of goggles to protect his eyes. This is getting bad...

Finally, he comes upon the likely cause. He finds the shaft overtaken by detritus and decay, a gnarly mold clinging to every surface it could take root upon. The fan looks as though it would disintegrate if he so much as grazes it, adding even more to the cloud of hazardous materials in the air.

It’s like stumbling across the scene of a runaway science experiment—and as fate would have it, the sound of metal creaking grabs Hatchley’s attention. He whips his head towards the fan just in time to see something moving through the shadows. His eyes narrow—if one thought of this place as a dungeon, then a random encounter was only a matter of time...

His Pokeball clicked, and a burst of light briefly lit up the shaft. Prince lanced against the floor with a metallic groan, and for a moment the Trainer anticipated that the rust-encrusted structure may buckle under the Rock-type’s weight.

“Whew. Okay,” Hatchley sighs, returning his focus to the unidentified threat. Prince still had a very limited movepool, but he figures that anything with this effect on the environment is probably resistant to Poison... not only that, but the abundance of fuel and the oxygen-fresh space makes using Fire far too risky. Only one thing he can really do...

“Prince! Wait for the enemy to reveal themselves, and then hit ‘em with an Ice Fang!”

Even in the heat of the moment, it’s hard for him to ignore his fear. Ordering a bite attack made the hair on the back of his neck raise a little bit. Whether the doctor’s diagnosis was correct or not—it all hinges on this moment, but no matter what his body tells him, his mind’s been made up!

“I believe in you, Prince! Let’s mop up this crusty bastard!”