Parugi

*glances at Rise of the Rockets* It's actually not that hard. #soproudofus

fixed

Can't go wrong with Pacific Rim. Except for when you do. But you haven't, so that's irrelevant. Year 60,000 approved x3.

This is definitely a Four Horsemen thing.

IC - General Emmerich Coleman/Aulus Rufius - Chapel, Communications Center: Agent Rufius was waiting for them when they arrived. He saluted the General, falling into step behind him as Coleman moved to open the door to the Comm Center. "Shields, this is Aulus Rufius," the General said. "Rufius, Miriam Shields. Between the three of us, this should be a simple enough task." Aulus nodded, saluting Miriam--perhaps less enthusiastically than he had the General. "Pleased to meet you, ma'am." IC - Esen Windred - Clearing: Esen nodded to Cero. "If that's the best we can do, then I guess that's what we'll have to do," she said. "Bat, lead the way to the nearest one." The Swoobat nodded, beginning to take flight again. As he did so, however, Esen suddenly straightened up. "Wait a second. No--there might be an even simpler way." Krow and Bat both tilted their heads at her. The trainer gestured for Bat to come near. "The truck Kyle was in--there was a specific guy in it, stood out from all the others. White coat, black hat, red hair." Bat touched her mind, reading the image in her head. "Did you see where his truck went?" Swoobat fell silent for several moments, thinking. Then he nodded, shooting into the sky and flying. Esen nodded to Cero and Noivern, signaling Krow to take hold of her again. "We could always be wrong, but I'm willing to bet that we aren't," she said. "Cero, get ready to double-check with your Lilipup as soon as we possibly can." She took flight again with Krow, following after Swoobat. IC - Pride - Celadon City, Central Park: "These aren't simple tricks of the mind, Dack Majors," Pride said. "No, they are much more than that. And they are fueled by your Pride. Believe whatever you want to believe, but the fact of the matter is that your refusal to admit to your own shortcomings is precisely what is going to force me to devour you." He glanced at Hannah. "As is her inability to admit to them." As he spoke, a shadowy phantasm began to manifest around him--a translucent silhouette of a model with Pride standing at the center, tall and bone-thin with undefined feet and cartoonish, four-fingered hands that ended in pointed digits. Pride's face again began to take on that porcelain quality, making it look as if he were wearing a mask, obscuring his features and etching into his face a grin fit for a nightmarish marionette. The Sinner frowned through the mask, clasping his hands together and speaking more quietly now. "Of course, that wouldn't be my first preference . . . but if you're going to force my hand, then what choice do I have?" Pride chuckled, his soft laughter growing into a fit of giggling that sent his entire body into a series of uncontrolled shudders. "Oh, boy . . . 'Choice.' That's funny. That's so funny." He covered his face with a hand, briefly stifling the sound. "You ever think about it, any of you? What choices do we have, in the grand scheme of things? People don't choose to be born. They don't choose their names. They don't choose their parents. They hardly choose their friends, their enemies, their family, their jobs. They don't choose their experiences, their circumstances--when they die, their legacy." Pride uncovered his face. Thick purple lines had appeared, running now from the bottom of the black eyes of the mask and down its cheeks. Any semblance of Pride's face was now gone, completely obscured by the grinning mask. "Think about it. Really think about it. Because choices--real choices, ones that mean something--those are a luxury. The world's been decided for you, and now, you're being presented with a choice, an opportunity." He seemed to manage to stare at his three targets all at the same time, despite their vastly different positions in the circle. "I chose you. I chose to come after you. I chose to help you realize the extent of your own self-corruption. So now it's your turn to choose: To accept that help, to change, to fix, to live . . . or . . ." He gestured to their Pokémon. As Luxray closed in on Rapidash, the Fire Horse Pokémon suddenly raised her head, locking her hypnotic eyes with her opponent's before slamming into the Electric-Type. Alongside the Hypnosis, the flames on her body erupted outward, completely coating her in monstrous fire that threatened to burn any who touched her--whether Luxray or Swellow. She hardly even flinched at the enemy Bastiodon's Metal Sound, responding to it in turn with another Hypnosis. ". . . to reject it, to die, and to tangle someone else in my strings." IC - Kyle Eston - This world is indeed that which is it is a living being endowed with a soul and knowledge thus can we say it is a living force of nature and not merely a construct upon which and through which all life is built universally connected by the singular and multiple forces acting upon us at any one point in time as dictated by the necessities of the circumstances surrounding us Stop Yet to say that one is all and that all is one is to forfeit the individual and accept the sameness of all given these proposals does that not mean that we are thus all the same and not unique can one rightfully judge the actions of another then bearing in mind that the responsibility of one's actions is then shared by all in presence whether guilty or innocent due to the universal connections between one human and all others Stop Upon that train of thought does that not mean that the actions of those who would encourage and provoke 2. n. a state of armed conflict between different nations or states or different groups within a nation or state. are then equally reflective of what I am capable of and of what I seek? . . . We're above the city. We're surrounded by windows. We're surrounded by skyscrapers. Everything is cleared away. There's a hole in the floor. Desks and chairs and cubicles are all knocked everywhere, covered in debris. There is blood. There is fire. There is ash and smoke and the angered winds of a place weeping in the aftermath of a cataclysm that no one could have foreseen sweeping through the broken glass overlooking the dust-caked streets, carrying with it a chill wind that cuts straight through to the very core-- Oh my god. No. No, no, no, no no no no! Why am I here, of all places!? I want to forget. I want to block it out and never think about it again. But it always comes back. Always. The tower. The bomb. The footsteps, urgent, echoing through the stairwell. The cries for help, of frustration and desperation. "Attack, attack." The laugh, the music, the one responsible. Wasted efforts to save a doomed city. Efforts leading to what? The salvation only of those who would listen. A cascade of dominoes leading to an even larger catastrophe upon the rest of its continent. I want to forget. But it always comes back. You always come back. "Me." You're here . . . "In the flesh, Eston." But not. You're not you. You're different. You're gaunt--a living skeleton. A monster, looming over me, everywhere and nowhere. Your laugh is everywhere, that constant mockery of failure. And . . . you're covered in blood. Is it yours? You bled; I remember that. You overexerted yourself. Mine . . .? I bled, too. You made me bleed. "Such narrow thinking." . . . "Why stop the possibilities there?" Whose is it . . . ? "Everyone who has died for your cause." Smile. "I know--you never touched them. Your group never touched them. You were doing your best--not to perpetuate, but to 'save.' But everything is connected. Where war begins, it spreads out. It's a disease in the heart of the world, and this one has become terminal." Smile. "Thus, your blood. The blood of many. Those who have bled . . . and those who will." The war's . . . over. "From a certain perspective." From mine, it's over. "Yet your kind continues to promote it." Frown. "To their detriment." She stands amongst the bodies of those whom I would call my friends. None of them recognizable. None of them living. They've been caught in the flames, in the blast--the fire and heat. All of them are there. No one is missing. It's not us. It's her. "You and yours." I don't support her. "Yet, you do." I don't have a choice. "To do, or not to do. There is always a choice." . . . So you had one, too. She pauses. "Yes. I suppose I did." And you chose to act. You chose to destroy and hurt and kill. "All in opposition to the unjust." All in the name of your cause. To send a message. "To stop your war." I lost someone because of you. "Was that not her choice? To stay behind?" What else could she have done . . .? "Perhaps . . . let you die. All of you. You earned it, after all." I haven't done anything! "So you say." The blood's on you. You're as responsible as I am--more than I am! "I never touched them." You're a hypocrite. "So there are two of us." . . . When did my hands close around your throat? They're clenched so tight, fingers pressing so hard that it feels like my bones are protruding through my skin. You look so pale. This must have been happening a while. I must have snapped. What did you say? What made me this angry? ". . ." Anger. Cold anger. When did I become so angry that this kind of thing made me feel so . . . calm? What made this seem right? What made this so . . . welcome? ". . ." You're dying. You're not fighting back. Why aren't you fighting back? Why aren't you doing anything!? Do you want me to do this!? ". . ." . . . what am I doing . . .? This isn't me. This has never been me. I hate you. I will always hate you. But I can't kill you. I won't. You made nothing better, and nothing worse. You aggravated a situation already on the brink. And in the end, who got hurt? You and me both. There was no exclusion--we both lost something. But there was a difference: I could get back what I lost. You can't. And you will have to live with that for the rest of your life. You changed nothing that was not already in motion. I want to forget. I want to block it out and remove it from myself. But I can't forget. It will always come back. That's what these things do. All I can do is let you go. Good-bye, Hayes. 2. n. freedom from disturbance; quiet and tranquility. Kyle awoke, shivering, where he had been knocked out. He didn't know how long he had been out. All he knew was that his eyes burned, his entire body was sore, and he was freezing against the cold cement of the floor. Already, the shackles around his wrists were beginning to rub his skin raw. He adjusted them uncomfortably, slowly turning his head to look at the table where his belongings rested. They were so far away. Yet, he knew that if he could only reach them . . . With a groan of pain, he tried to push himself up, only to collapse. He sighed, closing his eyes and resting his head against the ground, waiting for some of his strength to return. The sound of metal scraping against metal prompted him to open his eyes again. It was coming from behind him. The Liberty Agent dreaded the thought of what it could be, but decided to check in any case. With much effort, he managed to roll onto his back, giving him a view of the noise's source. A woman with spiky blonde hair sat against another wall. Her hands were chained like his, their wall mount resting several feet away from the one holding him captive. She was busy doing something with her restraints, focusing intently on them as she worked. The scraping stopped as her hands froze. She looked up at him from her work, pausing for a long moment. "Hey."

IC - Maddison Hayes/Tyler McKinley/Sonja Baron - Fortree City, Ground Level: The unexpected sound of Ryan's calls was enough to prompt Sonja to turn around, if only to watch as he and Ray emerged from the foliage. They stopped short at the sight before them, allowing Evan to quickly explain what was going on. For her part, Sonja stretched a hand out to waist height, a silent signal for her friends to stay calm. "'Other person'?" McKinley repeated, huffing in a feigned display of offense. "Two can play at the no-name game, Hero of Space." He grinned. "Or should I call you the Zero of Space? Am I right?" He nudged Hayes, who somehow managed to roll her eyes without actually doing so. Sonja gave him a look, before shaking her head and looking back at the others. "Don't worry about me," she gently insisted. "I'll be back." Find Ellen. This thought briefly echoed in the minds of Evan, Jenny, Ray, and Ryan as Sonja turned and walked away, taking a position beside Hayes. The older Baron gave her a disbelieving look, before resigning herself to the situation, instead turning her eyes toward the other group. An expectant flicker briefly appeared in her gaze. "All right, then," McKinley said. "First thing's first." He clapped his hands together. The Fourth Child's Xatu appeared in front of Sonja, locking eyes with her before the Liberty Agent even realized what had happened. The next instant, she collapsed, falling into Hayes's arms. McKinley chuckled. "Now that that's done, time for our next stop. Xatu, Teleport." And so they were gone, the only remnants of their presence being a lingering image of a concerned Second Child, a smiling Fourth, and an unconscious Sixth. IC - Pride - Celadon City, Central Park: Aspen's silence prompted only a disappointed smile from Pride. As the Sin stepped back, about to address his targets again, an explosion erupted from the ground behind him. Pride turned just in time to see a hail of attackers charging toward his Rapidash. "Interesting." He issued no commands. Instead, he merely watched. Watched as Rapidash was struck by a combination of Aerial Ace, Thunder Fang, and other attacks in rapid and dashing succession of color and movement. Watched as in the course of which the multiple attacks and attackers collided with their target, they collided with each other, as well. The combined onslaught sent Rapidash skidding along the icy ground, leaving a trail of water where her flames had melted the snow. Miraculously, she pushed herself to her feet mere seconds later with hardly a display of injury. "A valiant effort to start with," Pride said, clapping slowly. "But hardly worthwhile, I'm afraid. You've hardly made any headway in your heads and hearts, places where you are completely in control. How can you possibly expect to do anything out here?" He snapped his fingers. With an annoyed huff, Rapidash charged, coating herself in a fiery Flare Blitz as she launched herself into the midst of her opponents.

Evolution can happen any time after reaching the necessary amount of EXP. So you don't need to do it immediately and you don't necessarily have to do it during a battle/other situation where that particular Pokémon gains any extra experience.

Definitely take note of them and keep track of how many you have--doesn't have to be in your profile, but just somewhere where you can check if you decide you want to use one. As for their use--you can "exchange" them for a number of things. Most often they're used to allow a player's Pokémon to evolve more quickly, but they can also be used to give your character up to 3 TMs, they can be used to create an character if you're at the limit, Aura characters can use them to advance their Aura abilities, you can use them to capture two Pokémon at once, etc. There are a lot of possibilities--kind of just depends on what you want to do. =)

IC - Esen Windred - Flying: Esen didn't know how long they had been flying before Bat returned. It must have been several hours at least, given that the morning sun had already begun to fall; even then, Noivern and Krow had hardly missed a beat, continuing to fly despite an increasingly obvious fatigue that was beginning to set in. It was lucky, then, that at that point Bat had returned, clearly exhausted and losing altitude. Esen ushered Krow forth, descending to meet the failing Swoobat in a clearing amongst the trees, Noivern and Cero landing several feet behind her. The trainer caught Bat, feeding the Psychic-Flying-Type a Sitrus Berry from her backpack before inquiring into his findings. It was a quick process, as Bat used his Psychic abilities to relay the information directly into her mind. Esen sighed, turning to Cero. "We've got a problem," she said. "The trucks split up. For the most part they've all gone in the same general direction--east, toward Anistar City--but their specific destinations were all different. Bat managed to locate all three, so we can check them all out, but I don't know of a good way to hit them all at once short of getting the authorities involved. And that might take too long, itself." IC - Maddison Hayes/Tyler McKinley/Sonja Baron - Fortree City, Ground Level: The subtle actions of the others did not escape McKinley's attention. He turned briefly to look at Evan and Jenny, offering only a darkly amused smile before shaking his head and shifting his attention back to Hayes. "I do wonder what could be going through their heads," he said. "Whatever. Are you coming? Or would you rather I help you finish this battle first?" "No," Hayes said. She looked squarely at Sonja. "As my sister said, there's no point." "Cool," the Fourth Child said, watching as the Second recalled her Wigglytuff. "In that case, we should get going immediately. We'll need to do a bit more scouting first, but I think she'll be more than open to our--" "Wait." The two Ford Agents turned to Sonja as she stepped forward. There was something in her posture now that hadn't been there a moment ago--something that certainly had not been present in Castelia. Hayes only managed to figure out the source of the resolve, the resolution, the understanding, a fraction of a second before Sonja said it herself: "I want to go with you." The Liberty Agent wasn't sure who began to protest--whether it was Hayes or Evan or Jenny, though she was certain it wasn't McKinley. She cut them off nonetheless, speaking directly to Hayes. "I want to know what you know," she said. "I want to understand why Ford is--why he's making all of you do what you've been doing. I can't understand if I have to keep chasing after you." In spite of the steel in her eyes, there was an underlying plea that only Hayes picked up on. "I need to know what could possibly have enthralled Sophia Baron to go down such a horrible path. You and the others. None of you could possibly have been like this before Ford. Right?" Hayes couldn't respond. She was too shocked to find the right words, and too horrified by the realization that Sonja was, at her core, right. She hardly remembered her own days before working for Ford, but of what little was there, she knew that Sophia Baron and the Maddison Hayes persona were two completely separate entities. And she did not know whether the fact that she had forgotten those days was voluntary. McKinley recovered before Hayes did. He smiled at Sonja, amused by her earnestness more than anything else--though the irony of the situation came in a close second. "All right. Sure." Hayes looked at him. McKinley ignored her. "You can come with us, Baron. Just be aware that you can't go back once you're in." "It certainly doesn't sound that way, going off of this 'Harrison' person's situation," Sonja said, stopping halfway between the two sides of the field. "Let me amend that," McKinley said. "Going off of your specific personality, you're not going to want to go back once you're in. Because once you're in, you'll know; and when you know, you'll realize that you can't." Sonja nodded. "You don't have to worry about that. I can promise you that much." IC - Pride - Celadon City, Central Park: "Answer me this, then," Pride said. "You stand by your claims about the others. But what proof do you have, for instance, that Willows truly acted the way that Wright claims, particularly to such a horrid extent as to inadvertently cause this kind of destruction? Is Wright not, by your own profession, someone who does not care for the lives of others--someone who would bend the truth to suit their own reality? Are you not, then, projecting your own assumptions onto a situation where you truly know nothing?" He leaned forward, until his face almost touched Aspen's. "Judgment is the ultimate demonstration of Pride, Aspen. You claim to be a target of ill fortune and baseless hate, the supposed 'root of all evil.' Have you never stopped to consider that perhaps the cause of others' discontent with you lies less in your 'lack of luck,' and more in your willingness to so negatively and preemptively judge others--to treat your assumptions as truth?" IC - Kyle Eston - I think, therefore I am am am I am somewhere where I don't know and it is not a place that I want to be because to be here is to be a dead man persisting upon the notion of immortality of form but not of mind and I don't understand where these thoughts are coming from or where they're leading me and I need help but here I am alone with nothing at all but myself and the knifes digging into my brain and the burning sensation in my eyes amidst the crushing loneliness and loss that are taking hold and egging me on to lose and give whatever it is that they want from me because they are here and I am stung and whatever their intentions it is clear to me that I am powerless. 1. n. the subjugation and assumption of control of a place or people by use of military force. I'm blinded by the lights around me. I'm deafened by the music blaring through the speakers and echoed in the rhythmic stamping and clapping of feet and hands. This place is familiar. A heavy fog obscures everything, and so, my vision swims, trying to make sense of the energy, the activity all around me. And slowly, I do. I recognize the dresses. The suits. The decorations. The guards watching the dancers, and the musicians on the stage. I'm back at the Liberty Ball. A girl stands in front of me; we're locked into a dancer's pose, one set of hands entwined, the other resting on my shoulder and her waist. We move to the beat of the song. It's a noiseless sound, meaning nothing and oppressing all sense of self. I don't know it. I don't know her. I don't recognize her. She's a faceless entity before me, visage featureless and motions devoid of purpose. We cannot stop. No one can stop. We're a part of this scenario, as necessary to its existence as the music and the decorations and the atmosphere and light itself. But we do not matter. No one matters. They are all faceless, all nothings existing together, stamping their soundless song. They're watching me. As one, their eyeless faces turn in my direction. The music slows to a crawl, a drawling drone that screeches and rips and tears at the ears. They're watching me. I'm being interrogated. They are seeing everything in my face and everything in my mind and my heart and my soul and it's tearing up the very foundations of my sense of self, that sightless gaze alone is doing it and and the music swells again. I'm stone cold, but the room is warm, and we're moving together again. I'm not being watched. The manikins have looked away from me, taking their maniacal judgment elsewhere, leaving me to dance with the soulless entity before me. "Kyle Nicholas Eston." It's Silvermind speaking. We're cuffed together at the wrist, and she has the key. She speaks like a snake, cunning and charming, ready to strike when it most benefits her. And she does not wait. She's peering into my eyes and reading my mind, smirking at the comparison because it truly is a stupid thing to think about one with more influence and power than you when you can do nothing against them. "Executive Richard Eston's son. His last remaining family member. And he yours. Psychoanalysis suggests an overall melancholic personality. A propensity for inward judgment--susceptible to self-imposed criticism and depression and warped perceptions of outward relations with others. Notable weakness in ability to reconcile the past with the present. Independent in thought, yet dependent on others to support own sense of self-worth." The words snap together like two sides of an open book. What do you want from me? "You had a mission." It was your mission. "It was your mission, Eston. And you hardly fulfilled it. To ensure our victory over Team Rocket." No. "We gave you the tools, the means to do so. It was a simple task--find and recruit Legendary Pokémon." You sent me out with two Pokémon who had hardly any experience. How could I have fought anything like that? "Recruit Gym Leaders, people tired of Team Rocket's rule." I tried. "Defend your home." I almost died defending it. I pretty much died defending it. "Destroy the Ancient Darkrai. Destroy the Hojohsin League. Destroy the groups that prevented peace." I did my best against Eight. I did my best against Hayes. But they are perpetual . . . and they were stronger than me. "You weren't alone in this, were you? You had others. You managed. And you stopped the war--in a sense. But it's not enough." It's never enough. "I'm not asking you to betray your morals. I just want you to do what's best for Team Liberty." I did. And you are. "She's an asset!" She's alone. "She could help us!" She won't destroy us. "She's valuable!" She's a person! The faceless things look at us. We have stopped moving. And now Silvermind, her smile, her smirk gone, leans in close, until our foreheads are almost touching. She is crushing my hand in her grip. The look in her eyes begins to split my head apart again, but I can't let her win--not again. Never again. To be controlled, to be coerced--never again. "Why do you protect her?" What? "Is it because it's the right thing to do? Or is it because she's the first person since the medic to show inexplicable interest in you?" . . . "You resent disregard. You resent pity. You could hardly stand the others. She's the first person in a long time to genuinely interest you, isn't she? Do you defend her because of this--a personal attachment? A selfless one? Or is it more selfish than that?" Silvermind smiles. "Think about it, Eston. To fight for her, and thus for our enemies--or to fight for your family? That's the true conundrum, isn't it?" She's not an enemy. "Wake up." On the contrary, I feel myself slipping back into dark. The scene fades. The lock and chain vanishes. The music dims to a low roar. "I said, wake up." It is no longer Silvermind speaking to me. 1. n. freedom from limits on thought or behavior. A powerful, painful electric shock ran through Kyle's body, emanating from his stomach outward and pulling him out of the strange hallucination that had come to take hold of his mind. The involuntary clenching of every muscle in his body prevented any sort of controlled or voluntary scream of pain, though his mind demanded that he voice his discomfort somehow. All he could do was endure until the pain subsided, thankful that at least this time, he appeared to already be on the ground and thus out of danger of falling into another table. Amidst the gut-wrenching feeling of his muscles locking, he was still keenly aware of the soreness in his forehead, where the blood from his earlier wound appeared to have dried. He felt it on an unnervingly large portion of his face and tasted it in his mouth. He was thankful that the shock did not last as long as it felt it did. Within a few moments the current had subsided, leaving the Liberty Agent curled up on the ground, panting in a pained attempt to catch his breath. He took the time to glance about him. The place appeared to be some sort of warehouse--possibly a former meat storage facility, given the various rusted hooks hanging from the ceiling and the overall nasty markings on the floor. It was incredibly cold, further supporting his assumption, and numerous wooden boxes lined the walls, covering almost the entire space except for the door and a singular table next to said exit. Chains led from his hands up to a ring on the wall. Both the chains and Kyle's hands shook as he slowly regained his composure, finally gathering enough strength to stir and push himself up from the ground. He barely managed to raise himself a few inches when he felt a heavy, booted foot press into his back, pushing him back to the floor. "Look who finally decided to wake up," a voice said from above him. The man's white coat, and bits of hit bright orange hair, were visible out of the corner of Kyle's eye; however, as he attempted to turn his head to look at him, the Liberty Agent felt the end of a cane press against his cheek. It felt as if it ended in a hole, like the barrel of a gun, although the feeling of some sort of wire disrupting the outer edge indicated that it was instead connected to something. Nonetheless, it prevented Kyle from turning his head, forcing himself instead to continue staring forward. "You've been out of it for a while, kid," he said. "To be honest, I was worried you weren't going to wake up--we're still experimenting, see, so there've been a few unwanted side-effects every so often. But I'm glad to see you're all right--really." Kyle could virtually hear him smiling as he spoke, a sensation that sent shivers down his spine. "As a dealer to a potential customer, I have to ask: How'd you like the nap?" Kyle did not answer. He felt the man press harder on his back, prompted a gasp of pain from the Liberty Agent. "Please, kid, I'm looking for honest opinions here. On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate it?" Kyle struggled to speak under the weight. Seeing this, the man eased his weight off of him. "O . . . one," Kyle said. Though the air in the place was horrid--a fact that became more and more obvious with every breath--he breathed heavily, closing his eyes. "A . . . solid . . . one." The man fell silent for a moment. Then, he laughed. "Funny kid," he said. He pulled his cane away from Kyle's face and pressed a button. The prongs that had shocked Kyle retracted, covering the cane's opening. Stepping off of Kyle's back, he slid a box over, taking a seat on it and staring down at the Liberty Agent. Kyle stared back at him, drinking in the details of his face as best as he could. "You'd best get used to it, Mr. Eston, because I guarantee that's not the last dose of 'it' that you're going to get while you're here." "What . . .?" Kyle's heart pounded in his chest. "I know, I know--'it' isn't that great of a street name for a drug. Unfortunately it takes time for a good name to pop up." Was this a joke? Kyle couldn't tell. "No . . . how do you know who I am?" "Oh, that," the man said. "I mean, the easy answer would be that we took your bag. Right?" He pointed over his shoulder. Kyle's bag was, in fact, sitting on the table beside the door--essentially just out of his reach. Even from where he lay, he could tell that several items had been removed from it. And now that he was thinking about it, Kyle realized that his Pokétch, too, was missing from his wrist. But the man continued. "At the same time, it's only part of the answer. So there's that, and there's the fact that, between the incidents in Unova and your involvement in stopping the Ancients, you're not unrecognizable. Kind of the opposite, actually, at least for those of us who care enough to look." He rubbed the back of his head. "Truth be told, I was kind of excited when I saw you. Honestly thought you might've been our pick-up guy. But I guess that was a silly idea from the get-go." "You thought . . . whoever hired you from Keturi . . . sent me." "Bingo." Kyle grimaced. "I'm sorry to disappoint you . . ." "You should be," the man said. "Frankly, it would've been fine . . . if you hadn't gone and set those Noibat free. Do you know how long it takes to collect those things, especially in those numbers? A long time. And, frankly, Mr. Eston . . ." He pressed the end of his cane against Kyle's face again. "I don't like seeing my time go down the drain like that." The pressure against his head sent horrible jolts of pain through Kyle's body, causing him to yank his head back. He did not answer. The man smiled. "You seem like you've got a lot of resolve. A shame it won't last." "What do you expect to get from me?" Kyle asked. "From you? Nothing," the man said. "Quite frankly, I just want to watch you break. And afterwards, who knows? I know a few people who might be interested in whatever you've got to spill--information or blood; whatever comes first." Kyle's eyes widened. The man chuckled, picking up a gas mask that had been sitting behind him and clipping it around his mouth and nose. "Don't worry, kid. You're not dying under my watch. So just relax . . ." He held his arm forward, pulling the sleeve back to reveal an odd watch-like device. "Take a deep breath . . ." He pressed a button, releasing a thick cloud of the same dust from the truck. Soon enough Kyle found himself in a coughing fit, forced to inhale the burning material, until he finally blacked out. "And sleep." Quentin Dallas watched as Kyle's random spasms slowly died down, before finally standing up. His cane tapped at the floor as he turned and exited the room, leaving the motionless Liberty Agent to stare blankly, corpse-like, after him.

Happy 5th anniversary, RotR! As part of our annual celebrations, everyone gets a reward point! Woo! I also have some writing prompts for anyone interested in doing some extra writing for the RPG! These are as follows! 1. Pick a scene from one of your posts--or just a scene from RotR in general--and rewrite it.2. Write a scene in which two characters who haven't met before meet each other. 3. Write a backstory scene of something that happened in one of your character's past.4. Write a "What if?" scenario about something that could have happened in the story given different circumstances.5. Write a scene involving your own interpretation of a character who has been named, but has not appeared in-story (or one that has been dropped/hasn't appeared that often/one who you don't know a lot about). Alternatively you can mix and match any of these to do your own thing. : P At any rate, final results can be posted here or possibly in an RotR Side Stories thread if it turns out that we can make something like that. I'll also edit in a more speechy message about the past five years here at some point, maybs, so that this doesn't feel like such a flat celebration. : P But yeah. Good job, everyone! Here's to another year!

IC - Maddison Hayes (Wigglytuff)/Sonja Baron (Neptune) - Fortree City, Ground Level: Normally, the term "short-sighted" might have annoyed Hayes upon picking up on it. In this case, however, it provided a convenient distraction for her to avoid responding to Sonja. The Second Child rolled her eyes. "Really?" she said. "Because from my perspective it looks more like your Pokémon are questioning your orders in lieu of their own." Protect. No sooner had the thought popped into Wigglytuff's head than a green shield materialized around its entire body, shielding it from Scizlite's attack. Sing. And then she was singing through the shield, her melodic lullaby emanating in an eerie field around her--a blast-zone currently containing the Scizor. Hayes crossed her arms. "Maybe you're not cheating, after all--maybe you're just a poor commander. I think your father's Scizor might agree." "Stop it, Sophia," Sonja snapped. "Stop these stupid mind games--and stop ignoring me!" Hayes glared at her. The Liberty Agent matched the look for a time. Eventually, however, Sonja sighed, and then returned Neptune to his Poké Ball, prompting a look of surprise from the Second Child. "You know what? This is pointless." "You're actually giving up?" Hayes asked. She waved her hand, summoning Wigglytuff back to her side and bringing the battle to a sudden pause. "Yeah, I am," Sonja said, ignoring whatever looks she might have received from her teammates. "I'm not wasting any more of my time on a fight that isn't going to accomplish anything. You won't answer me about business between us, and you can't answer anything about what you're doing for Ford. Yeah, I noticed," she added, as Hayes's lips parted slightly in surprise. "Every time we bring it up, your clamp up. You can't tell us, no matter how much you might want to, can you?" Sonja frowned. "So there's no point whether we win or lose. Either way, we aren't getting anything out of it." "You know, Second, your sister really is clever," a voice called from above. Hayes sighed half-way between relief and resignation as the others looked up at the branches above her, where a smiling man with golden-blond hair, golden gloves, and the Hojohsin uniform stood perched upon a particularly thick limb of a tree. A thin and scarred Xatu floated nearby, its rigid, forward stare contrasting with its trainer's almost gleeful observation of the group below. Sonja furrowed her brow. Somewhere, deep in her mind, she felt something . . . familiar about him, though she could not place her finger on what it was. As she watched him float down to the ground alongside his Xatu, however, one thought did come to her--a name that she felt she had heard before. From Blackskull? The Rockets in the Alamo? Elsewhere? She didn't know. "McKinley," she said. "What are you doing here?" Hayes asked. As he touched ground, the Fourth Child bowed. "The pleasure's mine, however brief," he said. The Hojohsin Agent straightened up, turning to Hayes. "I hate to interrupt this little reunion, but I'm afraid I'm in need of your assistance, Second." A shadow of annoyance flickered across his face. "We've hit a snag--the Fifth is gone." "Harrison?" Hayes said. "Gone as in 'dead,' or gone as in 'missing?'" "You know, the Third asked me almost the exact same question . . ." McKinley said, chuckling. "He's just missing. Nothing to worry about--just means we need to find a replacement, which is what I want your help with. I need someone who can ensure that our next Fifth isn't going to run out on us like Harrison did. Or die, like Warren. You know--with mind reading and all that jazz." McKinley sighed. "It's as if they get their moment of fame, and then they up and lose their heads . . . I don't get it, Hayes. I do not get it." IC - Pride - Celadon City, Central Park: ". . . You said I interested you . . ." Aspen's voice suddenly sounded from behind Pride. ". . . But then you go off and pay attention to the others. Like everyone else has before, and how th-they will from now on.... H-How well do you even know me anyways?! Because I don't think anyone here does . . ." The Sin Trainer straightened up at Aspen's words, his aura pacifying now that he was no longer so focused on Hannah. His stretched and warped form returned to normal, though the porcelain-like smile on his face never quite vanished. Pride closed his eyes. "So the gardener boy remembers how to speak . . ." he said. He turned to Aspen, one moment staring at him from afar, the next appearing only two or three feet away from the youngest Seaton. Pride waved a hand in a circle through the air before him, moving it counter-clockwise from Aspen's perspective. "Wind back the clock, Aspen, and I think we'll find a number of revelations about you--number one being that I said 'perplex,' not 'interest.' To confuse and baffle--to be baffled." He smirked. "But that's beside the point." Zach Hikari "Case Study the First, Aspen--follow along, because we're starting at the first stepping stone. Your sister's boyfriend vanishes for years and comes back at a time of need, when your other sister's been taken and you have no leads--not to mention little power to deal with the psycho who's taken her. Alistair Hakuda. Certainly a monster, and apparently Zach, too, by association. Despite his help, you treat him like garbage, ridiculing him for the slightest slip-ups and the smallest display of ineptitude. You care not for the damage he's endured at his previous failures--they mean nothing to you. Zach is expendable. He's worthless, because he has dared to be anything but perfection. And yet, paradoxically, perfection, too, would have earned him ridicule. There's simply no middle-ground for the poor gentleman, is there?" A snap of fingers. Unova League, Palmer, Erika "The connections of those amongst your association anger you. The Unova League wished to test Zach, some excitedly, some against their will. Why should so many public figures care to come out and witness the power of the one who accidentally destroyed their region? What a waste--they should be doing their real jobs, sitting around all day, unable to act for the betterment of the world thanks to Team Plasma's policies. Far be it for them to be able to provide such explanation, for they are not doing their designated assignment, and so they mean nothing, and their advice bears no applicability toward you. Fast-forward to Sootopolis, to Celadon--enter Palmer and Erika. At the threat of such a large-scale assault by Hannah, their presence and previous connections should be a God-send, but you? You react in disbelief, in anger, virtual disgust at the prospect of them already knowing the likes of Dack and Zach. What despicable connections." Snap. Madison, Luke, Dack Majors "In such a dire time of need, surely friends and allies are the most important assets? Yet you treat these three with such disdain, antagonizing them at any given opportunity. Perhaps Dack deserves it, but Madison and Luke? They're such friendly individuals, aren't they, Aspen? Why should they suffer just because their friend is a jerk acting as best as he can? Treating them like dirt, insulting their relationship, splitting focus by accusing them of feeling a given way toward one another . . . This is not enviable behavior, Aspen." Snap. Shannon Willows "Your callous streak is really beginning to show by this point, Aspen, and I dare say it's just a touch concerning to your friends--not that they are necessarily surprised by it. You join the group going to warn the target of this entire city-wide attack, and you don't even have the couth to feel sympathy for her in the wake of Hannah's revenge. In your eyes, it's her fault all of this happened, isn't it? Why didn't she see this coming? Why didn't she step back, act like a normal girl, and not let her parents get involved in a Liberty-led raid? Why couldn't she have simply known that Hannah was going to enact such brutal revenge on something that occurred in their childhood? Yes--through and through, all. Her. Fault." Snap. Hannah Wright "Remember Sootopolis, Aspen. How you looked down on Hannah. How you listlessly beat her when she could not defend herself, justifying it by calling her a monster. You nearly broke my puppet, do you know that? Yet, the great irony is that, in forcefully taking away another human being's right to that title, their right to civil treatment, you yourself become an oppressor, one who forces their views on others. You're a monster just as much as Hannah is, regardless of whether she deserved it. A different kind, perhaps, but still a monster--one who puts their own feelings before the life of another person." Snap. Aspen Seaton "If you ask me, Aspen Seaton, youngest child of a small gardening family from Olivine City," Pride said, finally lowering his hand and wiping away the disorienting tornado of words and memories. "It seems as if you're envious--envious of those who have accomplished things that you could hardly have dreamed about before you were forcefully pulled into the real world by a single, unfortunate resurgence of a particular lunatic. And in being envious, you act prideful, putting yourself on a pedestal above all others for fear that they will overshadow you, a pedestal that allows you to hide away in the comfort of your own reality whilst dishing out what insults and belittlements appeal to you." He smirked. "Then again, I did say I wanted you to word your own pride, didn't I? So why not get to it, now that you have my undivided attention. Prove to me that I'm wrong . . ." Pride leaned forward. "If you can." EDIT: Additional ICs IC - Emmerich Coleman - Chapel, Halls: The file on Aulus Rufius appeared on Miriam's feed, allowing her to open it and review the information contained within: "Rufius is to provide immediate reinforcement should the offending technician attempt to resist orders," General Coleman answered. "Or any other personnel in the area, for that matter. If Wright is the most recent Executive to have made contact with the technicians and security guards in Chapel's Comm Center, I would not put it past her to have given them additional orders to protect her cause. In that event, though I hope to avoid it, I would not be surprised if any physical conflict were to arise." IC - Esen Windred - Dendemille Town, Abandoned Windmills: Noivern contemplated Cero for some time, hesitating to respond in any particular fashion. After several moments, the Dragon-Type eased her mouth open, freeing Esen's ankle. Instead of immediately running off as she had planned to do before, Esen found herself staring at the Pokémon and Cero, impressed by how carefully and easily he had managed to convince her to listen to him. She rubbed her boot against the ground, shaking off the lingering needles where Noivern had applied pressure. "Thanks," she said to Cero after a while. "We really should get going, though. Swoobat will be able to follow them to wherever they're going, but that won't matter if he has to trek all the way back here just to tell us--they might've moved by then." She unclipped Krow's Poké Ball from her belt. "If you don't have transportation, Krow can carry me ahead and I can meet you wherever we end up. While I wait, I can stake out their defenses and--" Esen was interrupted by a slow rumble from Noivern, who suddenly slunk underneath Cero and knocked him onto her back. The Dragon-Type chirped at him, as if asking if he was steady, and then made a similar noise at Esen. The trainer smiled. "All right," she said. "We'll all do this together--no splitting up." She sent out Krow, gesturing for him to take hold of her shoulders. She felt his claws clutch deeply into the protective fabric of her jacket, securing her for the flight. "Follow me whenever you're ready." She headed off. IC - Kyle Eston: The floor rumbled horribly. This did nothing to help the throbbing sensation already present in Kyle's head as he stirred awake. Wherever he was, it was dark; and if the glinting metal and glass in front of him was any indication, he was confined--perhaps in more ways than one. Through the fog of unconsciousness that was slowly beginning to fade from his vision, the Liberty Agent could make out vague lights ebbing in and out of focus around him. Several came from large, see-through containers--brief flashes of electricity, like the ones he had seen in the windmill. Others came every so often from the ceiling, where various holes allowed sunlight to stream through every so often. These dimmed and shone with the rumbling, as if dictated by the outside world. Was he in a truck? That's what it seemed like . . . Kyle saw a bright light shining at his face. It was blinding; and as he turned his head to avoid it, he heard someone say something, though could not quite make out the words. The voice sounded excited, to the point of sending a shiver of dread down the Liberty Agent's spine. The next few moments became a blur. Someone opened the container. The movement and sounds of the truck became less muffled. Someone grabbed him. The light remained directed as his face, held there by a man in a mask. Someone did something that he only heard and could not see. They wore a mask like the other's. They all wore masks. He could heard their mechanical breathing. A cloud of dust erupted from nowhere, and he couldn't help but breathe it in because it was so potent. It burned his throat. He coughed in pain and discomfort. They let him go and he fell back to the floor. The world exploded in a whirlwind of color and light and sound around him and suddenly he knew nothing but convulsions, and soon he was falling back, back, back to the dark, unable to move and unable to figure out whether he was unconscious or awake.

I once asked Greg if it was possible for MU inhabitants to die without completing their destiny. His answer boiled down to, "In that case their destiny was to die." It upset me.

IC - Pride - Celadon City, Central Park: Pride smiled. It was a cold expression, and with the perfect sharpness and curvature of his cheeks and jaw, one would be forgiven for thinking it to be a sculpted, porcelain mask worn upon the boy's face. This did little to help the crushing atmosphere that was beginning to build the longer Pride spoke to Hannah. It seemed, almost, that with every word they spoke, the more twisted Pride became, his movements rough, sweeping, like those of a mangled puppet guided by a hand devoid of finesse. "You obsess over it," he said. "And like a mindless agent of death, you allow that obsession to act as your strings, free to be manipulated by anyone with a motive and a means to do so. Like me." Now he was behind her, speaking directly into Hannah's ear. "Do you remember, Executive?" Pride raised a hand to her head, close enough that it just barely grazed the hair at her left temple. The past year seemed to play out before her very eyes, everything she had witnessed and seen--battles, debates, meetings, planning sessions for her great revenge, promotion ceremonies . . . "Think, Hannah. You had your army. You were set to go . . . and then you couldn't. Out of the blue sky came the Ancient Darkrais' defeat, and with it, the end of your line of action--something you had not planned for." The ceasefire. "How frustrating, to be denied your final restitution for so many years spent in that girl's shadow. How frustrating, to be trapped by the very rules and guidelines that had allowed you to gain the power and recognition you now flaunt. What to do, what to do in that situation? Merely wait, as you would have done, in the hopes that the war would reignite and you could continue forth?" Go to Sootopolis . . . Reignite the flames . . . ". . . Or allow me to lend you my certainty of self, and thus set off a chain of events that would allow you to wind up here, in the very city that you had intended to target?" Snowpoint. "Perhaps take my suggestion, and set the world aflame yourself. Offer you my protection, allowing you to see your plan through to the finish line." Sootopolis. "Shrug off the bindings of your leadership and, under a new hand, accomplish both your goals . . ." Celadon City. ". . . and mine." Pride yanked his hand away from Hannah's head. "Do you understand, Executive? You are nothing but a puppet, forever bound by its strings. Your goals do not matter, because you do not possess the strength of will, the independence, to see them through--whether mine or others, you are held to the thrall of the hand in charge. Team Rocket gave you the tools necessary for this invasion, and I drove you forward. I made this happen. Do you see now? You were always under another's control, and you never had the presence of mind to realize it. This meant everything to you . . ." He leaned down, staring straight into her eyes. "And so, it became your destruction."

IC - Bounty/Goldhawk/Emmerich Coleman - Divide, Bounty's Office/Chapel, Meeting Room: The large, glowing screen before Bounty illuminated the conference room that he sat in, casting a bright light upon him that--fittingly--accentuated the shadows upon the Admin's face. His eyes were closed in contemplation of the plan that had just been shared with him regarding James Pierce and the Hojohsin League. All things considered, it was a lot to take in. However, it was no indigestible. At last, he opened his eyes, looking at the live feed of Goldhawk. "So, you want a televised, in-person debate?" The Liberty Leader nodded. "In this case, we believe it would be the best option against Hojohsin," Goldhawk said. "Pierce's position is unlike that of Hayes or Adams. He's not someone whom we can just organize an assault against, or even start an investigation into, without justifiable means." "I recognize that," Bounty said. He clicked the mute button on his Poké Gear as a message arrived. "I'll support Team Liberty regardless of what course of action you decide to take." He paused. "That being said, there is one concern that must be taken into consideration." Goldhawk frowned at this. "We cannot trust that Pierce or Ford won't try to take advantage of that kind of opportunity. You know as well as I do that Ford will throw away an ally's life at a moment's notice, and I don't doubt that he would do the same to any Hojohsin officials who come to this meeting if it means killing off members of Team Liberty and Team Rocket's leadership." For a moment, Goldhawk fell silent, letting this sink in. "I'll keep that in mind," he said. "We'll keep you updated as we continue to work on this. Until then, farewell." Bounty gave a short nod before the feed cut out. Picking up his Poké Gear again, he read the message that he had received before, raising an eyebrow as he saw who had sent it. Frowning, he set the device down, and then input a number into the keypad on the desk . . . "You may," General Coleman affirmed. "I've contacted Agent Rufius and instructed him to meet us in the Command Center, so we should head there immediately if we--" The Rocket General was interrupted as his Poké Gear rang. Coleman pulled it from his belt and, upon seeing the contact's I.D., plugged the device into the desk console. The communications screen lit up as Shadow Admin Bounty appeared, seated at a conference table within Divide. General Coleman saluted. "Shadow Admin Bounty, sir," he said. "We weren't expecting to hear back from you so quickly." "At ease, Emmerich." Though clearly annoyed by the informal greeting, the General relaxed. Bounty ignored the look. "I guess you're lucky I haven't had much to do for the past few months, aren't you?" He smiled. "Even so, I'm surprised you came to me for help." "With all due respect, Shadow Admin, you were not my first choice," Coleman replied. "Unfortunately Shadow Admins Sleight and Joker are currently preoccupied, as are a number of other Chapel Executives." "So you decided that I was the next best thing," Bounty said. "Despite the fact that I no longer have any sort of jurisdiction within Chapel. Or Kanto as a whole, for that matter." "Technically speaking, your authority was never struck from Chapel's records," Coleman said. "It's certainly an oversight, but given the circumstances at the time of your . . . departure from Team Rocket, it is not a surprising one." Bounty seemed impressed. "I never would have expected you to do act through a technicality, Emmerich. That seems much more along the lines of Victoire or Fallon." General Coleman sighed. "Are you going to help us or not, sir?" "I'll be there in half an hour," Bounty said. "Until then, I suggest you get your communications technicians off the air, just in case the guilty party decides to let anything else like this happen." General Coleman nodded. "We'll get to it." With a bow of his head, Bounty ended the call. The General gave Miriam an exasperated look as he retrieved his Poké Gear, before leading her out of the room. IC - Maddison Hayes (Kricketune/Wigglytuff)/Sonja Baron (Neptune) - Fortree City, Ground Level: Hayes's eyes flashed with annoyance as the switch in Pokémon occurred. She raised her own Poké Ball, recalling the tired out Kricketune and leaving the Scizor's attack to slam into the tree behind where it had stood. "Your Pokémon seem oddly capable of matching your thoughts without any sort of order," the Second Child said to Jenny, closing her eyes. "Either you're secretly psychic, or you're hiding something else. Or maybe you're cheating? I wonder which it could be..." "You'd be one to talk about cheating, wouldn't you?" Sonja said. She threw another Poké Ball forward, sending out her Totodile. "What with Ford's stellar record and everything." "Did I ever claim to be honorable?" Hayes asked. "Honestly, if you're going to try to get under my skin, maybe try something more pertinent." She released her Wigglytuff, who proceeded to pump herself up in a surprisingly threatening manner. "Flamethrower." The Normal-Type exhaled, launching a stream of flames in Scizlite's direction. "Neptune, Water Gun!" The Totodile opened his mouth, spraying the incoming flames with a relatively weak jet of water. It managed to abate the flames, but not by much. Sonja whipped around to face Hayes again. "If you want me to get to you . . ." she said. "Then tell me something . . ." Hayes glowered, confused as Sonja gave her a very steady, exhausted look. "Why didn't you talk to me?" The Second Child paused. "What are you talking about?" "In Castelia . . . You said you knew about Team Plasma--what had happened. And that you knew that I'd been looking for you. Remember?" Sonja's gaze dropped to the ground. "You knew where I was. And I know that you cared--you put everything you had set up in Castelia in jeopardy just to talk to me. You could've come to me before then--supported me, taken me away--at least let me know that you were fine. That I wasn't alone. But you didn't." She looked back up at Hayes. Her shoulders drooped. Her voice all but cracked as her volume dropped. "Why?" Sophia fell silent. IC - Esen Windred - Dendemille Town, Kalos: Esen looked up at Cero. Admittedly she hadn't given his presence all that much thought up to now--like a lot of things, she didn't remember exactly when he had joined herself and Kyle on their little trip around the region, but he hadn't impeded anything by tagging along, and so she had not said anything about it. Now, however, she felt perhaps an even greater sense of urgency than before. Was it because this meant she might have help in a rescue effort? Or was it thinly-veiled frustration that she'd have to catch him up on the situation? That there was another person to keep track of? Another person in danger? She wasn't sure she knew the difference anymore. "Poachers," Esen said. "Eight or nine in total, operating three cargo trucks. Two noteworthy individuals, probably their leaders, both dressed in higher-end get-up--think Gentlemen's Society. Other six or seven looked pretty sub-par by comparison, likely hired help. They just left, and they have Kyle. Why, I don't know, but we need to follow them now." If Esen held any qualms about being so blunt, she didn't show it. Nor did she appear to want to wait any longer than she already had. Turning on her heel, she began to hurry down the hill, aiming to follow after the trucks on foot. Once again, a tug at her heel stopped her, almost tripping Esen. She regained her balance to find that Noivern had clasped her jaws around the trainer's boot, not wanting her to go. Esen sighed, exasperated. "Would you stop?" IC - Pride - Celadon City, Central Park: "So the great savior blesses us with his presence," Pride said to Dack. "Answer me this, then: Does that sentiment extend to the others currently defending this city? The nameless civilians also operating without a guiding force? Or is your selflessness amidst this crisis reserved purely for your friends--for a second time?" Pride glanced at Hannah out of the corner of his eye. The next instant, he was in front of her, having not walked over so much as simply materialized on the spot. He loomed over her, his much taller frame granting him several inches over the Rocket Executive. Even discounting that, in interacting with her, Pride almost appeared . . . stretched. Distorted. And Hannah, too, to a small extent. As if the interaction of their two incredibly prideful Auras bent the very perception of space around them. "Accomplishment means nothing if it cannot justify itself to an objective force," he said quietly. He walked around Hannah, lowering his voice. "If I build a tower upon a cracked foundation, then it will fall to its own weight, regardless of how grand of a design it bears." Pride now spoke in little more than a hiss, his voice inaudible to Aspen and Dack. It seemed to ring in Hannah's head, reverberating throughout her very soul. "It doesn't matter how lucrative your position is. It doesn't matter how successful you are. And it never will, the way you've gone about it. Your Pride is rooted in a schoolhouse rivalry. It means nothing." IC - Quincy Adams/Tyler McKinley/Levi Alaric - Ford's Base: What constituted as a "lounge area" within Ford's base felt as if it had come out of the seating area of a dreary ferry, and then had been mixed with the evidence room of a private investigations office. Black sofas and armchairs sat in a broken rectangle around a short, long black coffee table. The many seats opened out to an inactive television set on one wall. Behind this area, there stood a wall adorned with diagrams, pictures, lists of people and locations and groups, and strings linking each of these things to another. Another, taller table stood in another corner, framed by booth-like benches that jutted out of the wall. Here, Levi Alaric sat. The boy's toes barely swept against the floor as he absentmindedly kicked his feet back and forth. He rested his head in his arms, peering over them to stare blankly at the table's surface. Occasionally he would softly sigh in boredom, though otherwise remained unresponsive and inactive, lost in his own thoughts. Across the room from him, seated in one of the armchairs, Quincy Adams sat, resting her left foot on the coffee table as she aggressively shined her boot. Every now and then, despite her attempts to focus on the menial task before her, she could not help but glace at Levi, growing more and more agitated with the silence in the room every time she did so. At last, she threw the brush she had been using back into her bag, setting her boot down with a sharp crack against the floor. The noise briefly caught the Eighth Child's attention, prompting him to glance at her. "Are you just going to sit there all day?" she asked. When he looked away without an answer, Adams sighed. "You're a kid. You should be running around, making noise. Being obnoxious." She picked up her bag and stood up, headed toward one of the two exits. "Doom and gloom is supposed to be for adults . . ." "Sorry." Levi's eyelids drooped. "There's nothing for me to do here . . ." She paused, resting her hand on the door frame and looking back at him. "Well, what do you want to do?" A pause. "Aside from going home." Again, the boy did not answer. The Eighth Child merely closed his eyes and looked away, eliciting an annoyed sigh from the Third. Without another word, she departed. I know he's Sleight's kid, and I get the idea of having people with 'prestige' in the group . . . Quincy mused. But I don't get why we chose him, of all people. And I don't get where his issues come from . . . She frowned and shook her head. As she continued down the hall, a side door opened, and McKinley emerged, shouldering a bag. He seemed surprisingly disgruntled. Not necessarily irate--he never completely lost his cool--but the smirk that typically occupied his face was gone. She nodded as he turned toward her. "McKinley," she greeted. "You don't look too happy." "Hmph." The Fourth Child adjusted the strap of his bag. "I take it you haven't heard the news from Ford, then." "Apparently not," Quincy said. "What's going on?" "Another vacancy has opened amongst our ranks," McKinley said. "That of the Fifth Child." "Harrison is gone?" McKinley nodded. Quincy leaned against the wall, brow furrowing in disbelief. All their hard work, and now this . . . Did this mean that they would have to start over again? "So, what--is he dead, or just . . .?" "He's not dead. At least, not yet," the Fourth Child said. "He's merely vanished. I don't know how he did it, but I suspect it may have something to do with that entity who appeared in Opelucid--the one with the Ancient Darkrai. Suffice to say, he's no longer with us." "How can you be so sure that he's still alive?" Quincy asked. "And . . . what does this mean for the rest of us, exactly?" McKinley smirked. "I never took you to be such a worrywart," he said. "Do you remember last year when Thomas Warren vanished? Do you remember the thing that happened--the thing in your head?" He pressed a finger to his temple. "The things that we all felt and saw? That nagging whisper in your mind that slowly grew until it felt like your head would split in half? That's how I know." McKinley placed a hand in his pocket. "So don't worry--we've caught it early enough that we can replace him. Not to mention, the first four Children and Ford are still the only ones who actually know what it is we're doing. He's not a threat to us--just a broken cog waiting to be replaced." The Third Child nodded after a moment. "Lucky us . . ." she said. "I take it that's where you're headed now." McKinley nodded again. "Let's hope this new Fifth Child is a little more reliable than the last." "Oh, believe me," McKinley said, turning to walk away now. "I've been thinking hard about it, and I already have the perfect replacement. I won't make the same mistake twice." Levi was still where she had left him when Quincy returned. She approached and prodded the Eighth Child's head with the bottom end of the book she was carrying, prompting him to look up. His expression changed from a look of confusion into one of surprise as she held it out to him. "Here." He glanced apprehensively between Quincy and the book. "I . . . I'm fine, really--" "Come on. You said you had nothing to do, so here's something," she insisted. When Levi still did not move, she sighed. "Just take it." She did not give it to him so much as shoved it into his hands. Quincy crossed her arms as she watched him read over the title, and then returned to her seat on the other side of the room, opening another of her books to the last page she had marked. "'The Classical Fairy Tales'?" Levi said. Quincy glanced at him, prompting the young boy to hide his face behind the aged story collection. "I-I didn't know adults read these kinds of stories . . ." "Well, some of us have to keep some semblance of our innocence alive somehow . . ." Quincy muttered. "I've been reading those since I was a kid. I guess I just never grew out of them." "You still like them?" he asked. "I have every page of that book memorized. What do you think?" "S-sorry . . ." Levi said, shrinking back into the corner. Quincy returned to the story in her lap. She quickly became engaged again with the silence of the room, broken only occasionally by the sound of her turning a page--or, after some time, Levi doing the same; she glanced up to find that the boy had finally begun to look through the collection. After some time, he cast a wary look her way. "Miss Adams?" She looked at him. "Who's 'Tiana Soldati'?" He had come to the page listing the book's owner. On the straight, black line, the name had been written--first a young child's attempt, then crossed out and rewritten by someone older, more elegant with her penmanship. The question took Quincy aback. She rubbed her forehead. I thought I took that out . . . "She's no one." "I like her name," Levi said. "She sounds like a nice person." "Trust me . . ." Quincy turned back to her book. "She's not."

Hey, Liuth. First off, welcome to the game--always good to see a new face around! I'm Parugi, the GM, so if you have any questions about anything feel free to PM me. Alternatively, pretty much any other player is good to go as far as questions and answers. We also have a Wiki for the RPG with an IM chat that you can use to talk directly to anyone, if you're interested--there's almost always someone on, so it's a good way to meet those of us who use it. Second order of business--profile approved! I was going to comment on Mahiki's ability to transform without a physical subject in front of him, but I see that you added a caveat to that already, so it's all good. I'm especially interested to see where you go with Jake's naivety towards the events in Kanto, particularly the information about Team Liberty, as the group isn't new at this point in the timeline--and the same with Team Rocket, to an extent. Lastly, as far as current events go--there are a few things going on that I can name off the top of my head: Celadon City, Kanto: For lack of a better term, there's a small war going on in Celadon between various factions. A Team Rocket Executive named Hannah Wright (Konuju's character) led an assault on the city in order to get some retroactive revenge on an old childhood rival of hers whose Liberty-aligned parents had helped attack her hometown when she was younger. She's leading an army of Team Rocket Agents and has run into resistance from citizens of Celadon, as well as various other non-Hannah-aligned TR Agents (Ethan Worth, Gavin Braner, Skye Hall--all my characters--and Dack Majors, Konuju's, as well as Jamie Arthur (Minun4) and Lucia Zyther (Blade)), Tower Tycoon Palmer (Konuju), the Seaton Siblings (Aspen, Olivia, and Dahlia, all JiMing's characters), Liberty Agents Zach Hikari (Blade) and James Arthur (Minun4), and others (Luke and Madison, Konuju's characters; Ryan Hikari, Blade's character; and Amelia Zann, Flipz's character).Also in Celadon--part of the battle has been interrupted by a being named Pride (mine), who has kidnapped Hannah Wright, Dack Majors, and Aspen Seaton and brought them to the center of the city in order to combat them. This fight is pretty much locked and cannot be interfered with due to Pride's influence in the area.Dendemille Town, Kalos: Esen Windred (me) and Cero (The Scottish Play's character) are currently figuring out what to do following the kidnapping of Kyle Eston (mine) by a group of poachers. Kyle had released a number of Noibat being held by these people and was subsequently captured by them, and they just recently left the area.Fortree City, Hoenn: Two main events happening here...Gluttony Battle: Ryan Sanders (Konuju) and Ray Hakuda (Blade) are engaged in battle with a man calling himself Gluttony (Hades) on the outskirts of Fortree. Gluttony is specifically targeting Ryan, and like Pride, is part of a larger plot that's going on involving characters based on the Seven Deadly Sins, four of whom have already appeared and been defeated.Maddison Hayes Battle: Hojohsin Agent Maddison Hayes (mine) is engaged in battle with Sonja Baron (mine), Evan Tierra (Hades), and Jenny Hakuda (Blade). Hayes is responsible for bombing Castelia City earlier in the RPG and is a prominent antagonist of the Team Liberty because of that, and she is in the employ of a terrorist known as John Ford (mine.)Alamos Town, Sinnoh: A large group of characters--including Jake Harris (sonyaxe), Arius Jacobson (Ehksidian), Ruth Fishers (JiMing), Elijah Brockway (Grochi), Yugo Doseki (Prowl Nightwolf) and Megan Keita (Gravity)--are investigating a mysterious power outage stemming from a power plant in Alamos Town. So far nothing terribly major has happened, but there's some significant stuff planned for this.Chapel, Kanto: Connected to the events in Celadon City--TR Agent Miriam Shields (Minun4) is working with TR General Emmerich Coleman (mine) to investigate/stop Hannah Wright's attack. Their plan of action thus far is to get in contact with Coleman's father, Shadow Admin Bounty (mine), in order to use his authority to override Wright's orders, as well as temporarily shutting down manual communications in TR base Chapel in order to figure out which of the comm technicians are working with Wright.Sootopolis City, Hoenn: Following a fake-Groudon attack by Hannah Wright, Sootopolis is recovering from the devastation that it has incurred. Characters here include Pokemon Ranger Lachina (JiMing), who is leading the Ranger corps in clean-up and Ellen Burks (Konuju), a girl suffering basically from PTSD following this attack on top of several other atrocities she has seen. So, yeah. There's a lot happening and a lot that has happened, so I can understand if it's a bit overwhelming. But hopefully we can work out a way to get your character in on current events!

it's literally the wurst the wurst, mangs

Some of these puns are horrendous. Others are just plain deeveeous.

IC - Pride - Celadon City, Central Park: Pride smirked at Hannah and Dack, chuckling at their new display of bravado. He clasped his hands together, pacing around the group again as the pair spoke. This time, his Rapidash remained in place, a staunch guardian overlooking the proceedings of their conversation. By the time they finished speaking, he had made a full lap around the group, and thus came to a stop on the other side of his Rapidash. Pride raised a hand to the Fire Horse Pokémon's neck, running it through the flames. "Your flimsy justifications more than support the constitution of my judgment," the Sinner said. He looked down at the makeshift line composed of the footprints from where he and Rapidash had tread; and with the mere application of a thought, another of Pride's symbols appeared at his feet, along with three others that appeared at regular intervals along the circle. Pride crossed his arms. "She is correct . . . in one regard--one perhaps not of her own making, as I hinted to it before. Your Pride--ill-found as it may be--is a facet of yourself set deep within you." He smiled. "Whether you know it to be there or not is without consequence; for in either case, it drives you. No matter what you may believe, you have merely traded one type for another." "Consider . . ." Pride's voice came from behind them--and, indeed, it seemed that he had actually vanished from the symbol he had been standing upon before they could truly process it. When they turned around, he was standing again before the burning tree, though now, by some means, his form did not appear as a silhouette against the dying flames as it had before. "When push comes to shove, you rely on no one but yourself. You charged after Wright in Sootopolis. You charged after Wright in this very city. You give no thought to the safety, the situations, of those in alliance with you once you decide that you must act." He locked eyes with the former Rocket Agent. "You are suicidally overconfident. And what has that gotten you, Dack Majors? Dead friends, the way I see it--it won't be long now before their final breaths escape their lips, wondering why their fearless leader has forsaken them, simply so that he can prove himself capable of beating the big, bad threat." He briefly smirked, though the expression did not last long. "And you . . ." Pride vanished again, reappearing to the left of the group, were they to face Rapidash again. "I have watched you for some time now, Hannah. And I must say, I am less and less impressed with you every day that we remain connected." He shook his head. "You are indeed a proud one, and perhaps you have earned it--to a degree. But for what purpose were you driven? Dreams of grandiosity fueled by a genuine desire for prestige, fame, glory? Or so that you can use that power to settle a childhood grudge? Against a girl who didn't even know any better, at that!" Pride clenched his fist and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to regain his composure. "You condescend to tell me that Shannon Willows's Pride is on par with yours--that I have made a mistake in glossing over her. Yet you seem utterly incapable of recognizing the truth of your own crusade: That what justified anger you bear toward her is distorted and directed toward the wrong transgressor. Your Pride is built upon a pathetic and ill-conceived foundation of self-pity and revenge, and is self-serving in a way most demeaning to any outside observer. You are no queen--merely a brat with far too much time on her hands. Your Pride, Hannah Wright, is false." Pride vanished once more, falling silent for several moments now--as if taking his time to collect himself again. When he spoke, it was with an utmost calm--quite a turnaround from the tone he had been using mere seconds before. "And, of course, we can't forget you, now can we, Aspen Seaton?" He stood on the symbol across from the previous one, glowing eyes boring into Aspen's very soul. "You perplex me, as I'm sure you do your various allies. You treat those who wish to fight beside you like scum. You act as if those who accomplish acts of heroics are worth nothing--as if they owe you something. Ellen, Zach, Luke, Madison, Dack--all good people, surely, despite their moments of weakness? They've helped to save the world in their own ways, haven't they? Yet you place yourself upon a pedestal and look down upon them with such a scornful gaze . . ." Pride's eyes narrowed. "Tell me, what do you have to be proud of? What compels you to act the way you do, to rip and tear into the spirits and actions of those around you with no regard for their past, their experiences--their feelings and fears and regrets? I want to hear it in your words--I want you to earn this."

IC - Maddison Hayes (Kricketune) - Fortree City, Ground Level: So the ice would spread, at least as long as Vlad's teeth remained in contact with Kricketune's arm. The Bug-Type would have none of that. Using the Fang Scorpion Pokémon's own momentum against it, Kricketune spun, whirling Vlad around with him, slamming the Gliscor against Lurelite. When this impact still did not dislodge Vlad, Kricketune raised his free arm, bringing it down--hard--in a Brick Break attack upon the Fang Scorpion Pokémon's head, allowing him to pull his arm free. Kricketune immediately flew backward, coming to a stop on the other side of the field. The Bug-Type panted, though did not appear ready to faint quite yet--not even with the ice covering one arm, rendering it much less useful. IC - Esen Windred - Dendemille Town, Abandoned Windmills: Esen could sense that the truck--or, more accurately, the trucks and their operators--were trouble from a mile away. She and Bat had hurried in the direction of the rumbling engine as soon as they had heard it, and upon passing by the last windmill blocking their view, Esen had immediately darted back behind it, peering around its wall to watch what was happening. Three large transports--generally inconspicuous, save for their size--had been parked in a field, and now six or seven individuals busied themselves with loading what appeared to be a set of five large containers of some kind into the trucks. From what she could make out, it seemed to Esen that each one was designated for a specific type of Pokémon--some containing only a kind of pink bird-like Pokémon, and others with different, yet equally unfamiliar species, though one or two of which Esen recognized as Fairy-Types. All appeared far too full for their occupants to be comfortable. As she scanned the field, something else caught Esen's attention. Two men stood off to the side, giving directions to the others. One wore a white coat over a dark suit; the other, a dark brown suit. Both wielded an oddly-colored cane. More noteworthy than that, however, was the individual tied up at their feet, a motionless, brown-haired boy whom--as she watched--the larger, dark-suited man dragged toward one of the trucks, lifting him in. Esen inhaled sharply. Kyle. She moved forward. A tug at her heel stopped her from going any further, throwing her off balance and allowing her assailant to drag her back behind the windmill. Esen whipped around, trying to yank her foot free as she shifted into a battle-ready stance, expecting one of the poachers' goons. What she found instead was the Noivern from earlier, now with a young Noibat lying on its head. The larger Pokémon had lightly clamped her jaws on Esen's boot, and now looked up at her with a pleading gaze, shaking her head as if to say, Don't go down there. Esen pulled again. "You need to let go," she said. "My friend is down there! I can't just let them take him--" She froze as the Noibat crawled forward, chirping at her and staring with pale, tired eyes. Esen could see a severe wound on the Pokémon's side. "They did that to you, didn't they?" The Noibat blinked at her. The trainer cupped a hand over her mouth. "Did Kyle save you?" Though the Noibat did not appear to understand her question, Esen was beginning to piece together what had happened--how Kyle had ended up a captive of these men. This did nothing to ease her concern: If they were willing to act so carelessly, so cruelly towards such a young Pokémon, then surely, against an older, experienced trainer . . . The trucks were starting. The men were packing up. Esen turned back to face them, her mind racing, face paling as the back compartments were closed off one by one, cutting off her view of Kyle. I can't let them go yet! She tugged again at the Noivern's grip, though the Pokémon still did not let go. They were pulling out, driving away now. Esen growled, slamming her hand against the side of the windmill. "Dang it--Swoobat, follow them!" she ordered. The Courting Pokémon nodded, flapping his wings and hurrying forward to give chase. He vanished amongst the trees moments after the trucks had. With the danger gone, Noivern let Esen go, though all she could do now was stare after the vehicles, whose engines were beginning to fade into the distance. After a moment, the trainer aimed a hard kick against the windmill. The Noibat gave her a dejected look; the Noivern growled softly. "There weren't that many down there," Esen said to the Sound Wave Pokémon, though she directed the words towards the ground. "I could've taken them . . . Why did you stop me . . .?" IC - ??? - Celadon City, Central Park: The man frowned, glaring at Dack and matching the quiet ferocity of his gaze with a subdued power that could easily have overtaken it. He directed his Pokémon to begin walking, slowly, in a wide circle around the three trainers. The flames on his steed's back and neck emphasized the ridges of his face as his features came into view, no longer obscured by the burning pyre in the center of the park. His Rapidash loosed an angry snort, neighing softly at the threat of combat directed toward it. He pulled the Fire Horse Pokémon's reins, steadying her unease. It seemed that with every step his Pokémon took, every leg of the circle that he moved, the man shifted his gaze from one face to another, as if assessing his targets. "Amusing," he said, though did not smile. "How quickly your attitudes change when you lose control over your situation . . ." He swept his eyes over Hannah, the Rocket Executive staring back with an uncertain air. "How aggressively you demand answers from the one whose hand you cannot force . . ." He glanced at Dack again. "How helpless you become without the very allies you have so readily admonished in the past . . ." He met Aspen's eye, sensing the darkness hidden within. "But, I suppose we'll get to that. In the meantime, allow me to introduce myself--for that should answer all of your questions." The man eased his Rapidash to a stop on the other side of the group so that he now faced the burning monument. With expert movements, he dismounted, the snow crunching beneath his feet. "There exists within all of you a very particular fault, one that has driven you forth in personal discourse and catalyzed your appearance here, though you may not have realized it. It is a Sin most foul--whose voice and name I deign to share." He straightened up. "Not long ago I would have introduced myself by the name Gelar Stolz. But since then I have seen my Truth, and that name no longer bears meaning to me. Now . . ." He paused, lifting his arms. "I am Pride. And you . . ." Pride pointed at the group, eyes narrowing. "You have dared to tread upon my title, flaunting power and superiority that you cannot back. Unacceptable. Pride is a Sin that you must earn, and I will not have its meaning squandered by such basic individuals." He frowned, his expression seeming to soften. He opened his palm, sweeping his hand through the air. "Or . . . do you object to these accusations? Do you perhaps think them to be not as severe of transgressions as I have made them seem--a misunderstanding of your intentions, as it were? And if that is the case, then perhaps you will have my forgiveness." And now, Pride smiled. "Though, such being the case . . . Forgiveness, more so than Pride, must be earned as well." OOC: Vs. Pride (Alternative Track)

IC - Emmerich Coleman - Chapel, Meeting Room: "I can agree with that assessment," General Coleman said. "And I can personally guarantee that no stone is left untouched." As he spoke, he worked to type a message through the holographic display of his Poké Gear, soon sending it out to a select set of Chapel Agents. "We'll begin investigations immediately. Should I expect you to join us, or do you have other business to attend to?" IC - Sonja Baron/Maddison Hayes (Kricketune) - Fortree City, Ground Level: The broiling flames within the Chandelure's body did not go entirely unnoticed. That was why, as the flames prepared Lurelite's wave of hot air, Kricketune slowed, suddenly drawing its arm back. The Chandelure's attack came at the same time that Kricketune flipped forward, slamming its blade-like arms against the ground--not merely as a Night Slash attack, but as a combination of that and Brick Break. The resulting explosion of sand and ground from the surprisingly strong blow proved enough to partially block the damage that Kricketune sustained, as well as providing enough cover for it to shoot forward again and appear in front of Lurelite, this time swiping out with a straight-up Night Slash to the face. IC - Ethan Worth/Gavin Braner/Skye Hall - Celadon City, Streets: In running through Celadon City and the gradually-ravaged streets composing it, the Rocket Trio had seen a number of strange and unsettling sights. They had seen white snow stained red from the blood of some fallen combatant, impossible to ascertain whether it had come from friend or foe, assailant or defender. They had seen the grueling conflicts that had taken hold over sections of the city, injuries that had made their skin crawl. They had watched as the softly rolling snow eased its descent through the sky, replaced by the falling ashes of war and devastation. But the oddest thing was not that which was seen, but rather, what went unseen: The monstrous chill of fear that prevented them from moving more than two blocks within the vicinity of Central Park. It was as if the great, burning tree towering above them was warning them not to approach, for fear of something that lay within. After the seventh failed attempt to push past the boundary, Gavin pushed himself back up on his knees, slamming his fist against the snow-covered ground. Fire and ash seemed to swim before his eyes, accompanied by the distant screams of a dying girl. "What the heck is going on!?" "Calm down," Ethan said, though could not stop himself from releasing a frustrated sigh of his own as the last vestiges of a vivid recollection regarding the Unown slipped away from his mind. "We'll just try another road." Skye shook her head, throwing the snow in her hair to the ground. "Wait," she said. "Before we do that . . . Do you have binoculars?" Ethan gave her a confused look. "What?" he asked. "I mean, yeah, but . . . Why?" He followed the path of Skye's finger as she pointed upward. The Rocket Agent smiled. "Aha--the old rooftop surveillance. Why didn't I think of that?" He jumped to his feet, trudging toward one of the nearby buildings. "Come on--maybe we can get an idea of what's going on." IC - ??? - Celadon City, Central Park: I admire you for wanting to help your friends, but your motives are completely selfish . . . I am better! You're right Madison, he's just a kid. He needs to learn his place. You haven't really given up on your revenge, have you? And prove my worth in the process . . . At least I fight for the people who were injured and killed in Sootopolis, instead of myself! Out of my way! You think I wouldn't come prepared for that? And just what gives you the right to determine my place, oh mighty tyrant? I said, don't lecture me. The last thing Hannah will want to do is talk! . . . there are people like me who know that she's a cunning, psychopathic idiot . . . . . . And that is why Cresselia refuses to help you. I'm better than them in every way! It's hard to work with someone who keeps antagonizing us. You know what makes me better than Hannah? This. Like it or not, you are involved. I could never forget the one who was always better than me! Next time, don't get in my way. Like I said, I'm not getting left behind. Well, who's the better one now? Pride. The quality of having an excessively high opinion of oneself or one's importance. Synonymous with Arrogance. Vanity. Hubris. Haughtiness. Conceit. Snobbery. "You're a persistent one, Dack," Hannah said. Her Gardevoir shifted her focus from Ryan's Samurott to the Luxray that was quickly approaching. "You have no idea how long I've waited for this moment. There's no way I'd back out at a time like this!" "So we're doing this the hard way then, huh?" Dack growled. His Luxray crouched, waiting for the moment to spring into action. "Have it your way. Luxray--" He stopped. Hannah was not sure why, not at first. She was only aware of Dack staring, surprised, at her feet. As she registered his expression, she became aware of a purple light shining beneath her. She looked down. A purple shape had appeared on the ground around her, a square with rounded corners save for the cross-like protrusion jutting out in front of her. Four circles occupied various spots within it, the most prominently-glowing areas amidst the multitude of other shapes composing it. Hannah looked up, and seeing that similar shapes had appeared around her Pokémon, her eyes widened. Vanity. The voice that spoke was . . . familiar, somehow. Like something that had whispered to her in her dreams, appeared and vanished without warning and without explanation--something she knew, yet did not know. Conceit. A whirlwind of darkness erupted from the symbol at Hannah and her team's feet, a localized snowstorm of black snow that swiftly engulfed them. "No--what is this!?" Dack yelled, beginning to run forward. At least, he tried to. The trainer found that he could not move, and as he looked down at his immobile feet, he saw why: The same symbol had appeared below him, as well as his own team. The symbol glowed brilliantly, almost blinding him with its intensity, and as it did so, he heard a voice within his head. Arrogance. Hubris. With no further explanation, there came an explosion of black snow, and all became dark. It seemed that combat was inevitable, for both sides seemed about ready to begin their attacks. Yet the tension did not break, and nothing happened, for there emerged amongst those gathered a sense of alarm as something extremely unusual occurred: A symbol appeared in the snow, purple in color and shaped vaguely like a church, glowing brightly from underneath Aspen Seaton's feet. Similar shapes appeared around his Pokémon, freezing all in place. Though it took only an instant for this to occur, and for a deep rumbling to emerge from the ground, the voice that spoke within Aspen's mind seemed to echo across all of time and space. Snobbery. Haughtiness. And so he had little time to react before an eruption of black, shadowy snow erupted around him, enveloping him and his Pokémon. When it subsided, he was gone, spirited away to some unknown place. They appeared again before a massive, burning tree, consumed by a fire that splintered and cracked the wood, littering the snowy pavement with the blackness of ash. Their landing was not soft; as the shadows deposited Hannah, Dack, and Aspen, the three fell, momentarily shocked from the suddenness of their teleportation, and the roughness of their travel. Before them, standing in front of the flaming tree, was a Rapidash clad in elegant riding gear. Upon its saddle sat a well-dressed man, his purple eyes glowing out from his silhouetted form to survey his selected targets. At his behest the Rapidash took several steps forward, finally coming to a stop several yards away from the three Trainers. "So, you have survived the darkness within your heart, and the conflict that has resulted from it," he said. "A pity that the very foundations of your durability betray your true form to those in observance." IC - Albero DeLargo: I must resist. The vast expanse of books surrounded him, though they sat on their shelves and thus rested, unopened. The few before him, sprawled across the library desk, were separate, yet connected--paragraphs and pictures all detailing the wide variety of berries and soils and nutrients essential to the cultivation of life. All important information, all essential to him; for his pursuits, his goals, rested on his retaining this knowledge, employing it, using it to care for the world with a tenderness and care that only a true agent of nature could possess--or, at least, as true an agent as a student could hope to be at such a young age . . . I must remember. Your memories will not protect you forever . . . IC - Albero DeLargo: They will protect me long enough for this. Days spent in the garden, planting and grooming a simpler form of life. Creating beauty; sustaining life. Ensuring health. A passionate study, one meant to clam the mind, and protect the world--to sustain it, and all within . . . You don't need control for this part. To ensure it comes to pass--I think so. IC - Abero DeLrgo: Why must it come to pass? A quiet evening spent before the hearth, the same spot always occupied, day by day. A fire to one side; the green and red and yellow decorations of an oft-around traveler to the other. Heirlooms, gifts, prizes--decorations occupying the way, pride of the owner, an end goal to aspire to . . . Why must I make it so? You know your purpose. IC - Abeo Dego: To be and not to be. Children on a playground running about, younger yet growing, growing older every year, every day. Troubled minds; minds at ease. Ones with friends, ones without--some merely in need of a face to talk to belonging not to councilors and parents and teachers . . . I do not have to allow it, if I live. You will die. IC - Aeo ego: My name . . . My name is . . . Albero DeLargo. I've lost my name . . . Have you taken it . . .? You are meant to die. IC - g: You can't have it. You can't have my name . . . A great student. One of the best. The brightest. He'll go far. . . . and you can't have my life. This is not yours to decide. IC - G: I don't understand . . . There had been an argument--a dispute between the children over a ball. He had stepped in. They calmed down--they always did; they knew he was fair. And he was kind. They respected him, for he was an older brother even to those who would not outright admit it. Fairness and kindness--selfless in all matters . . . I bore no Gluttony. I bore Temperance. Temperance only delays the inevitable. IC - Gl: More than most, perhaps . . . Approaching evil planting the seed, the seed deep sowing. Approaching shadow giving it life, life unknowing. I resisted. I was myself. I was stronger . . . Is that so? IC - Gula: My life . . . Student. Mentor. Mediator. Caretaker. I worked so hard to stay impartial . . . and yet here I am. Then Temperance has failed; and so you become like all the rest. IC - Gulottyn: . . . . . . . . . Good-bye, Albero DeLargo. IC - Gluttony - Fortree City, Ashen Field: Albero DeLargo fell very, very still, and very, very quiet. His Pokémon must have sensed it, for they suddenly broke off from their respective battles and fell back--almost deactivating, like automatons, before their trainer. He, too, did not move, did not speak, and from all observation, appeared to have departed entirely from the conflict. His mind was gone. But it soon returned--the same, yet changed. An orange symbol appeared on Albero's forehead, and with it, his aura glowed. His eyelids drooped, and it appeared for a moment as if he might fall over, limp from the unseen impact against his mind. But he remained upright, and though he stumbled, he would not fall. Gluttony regained his footing. He straightened up, closing his eyes and taking a moment to crane his neck, taking a long, deep breath of the battle-worn air that surrounded him, relishing the fumes of fire and smoke and blood. "There's nothing quite like getting rid of a part of yourself that you don't need." Something had changed. His voice was the same, yet not--it possessed a harsher rumble now, a listless edge bereft of the friendly breath that had once accompanied each word. "Wouldn't you agree?"

IC - Sonja Baron (Athena)/Maddison Hayes (Kricketune) - Fortree City, Ground Level: Being on the ground had its advantages, particularly in the area of dodging. Kricketune had only to launch itself sideways to avoid the Overheat, bouncing across the field on bouncing feet until he had arrived next to the dazed Athena. With speed too swift to dodge, the Bug-Type took hold of the Pidove and, with a spin, launched her toward Vlad. "Athena!" Sonja called. Seeing the danger her Pokémon was in, she held out Athena's Poké Ball, recalling her before she could slam into Vlad. Hayes sighed. "A predictable outcome," she said. "Kricketune, Night Slash." The Cricket Pokémon let out a sharp croon before charging toward the enemy Chandelure, crossing its glowing arms against its chest as it ran and narrowing its eyes as it watched for its opponent's movements . . . IC - Ethan Worth/Gavin Braner/Skye Hall - Celadon City, Streets: "Jamie has a brother." This sudden statement almost caused Gavin to slip on a patch of ice, managing to avoid this fate only with the quick help of Skye, who grabbed him by the arm as soon as she noticed his loss of footing. "What?" "Jamie has a brother," Ethan repeated, coming to a stop behind them. He looked up from his Poké Gear, tilting his head at the exasperated looks from Skye and Gavin. "I thought it was interesting." "Did she say where they are?" Skye asked. "Celadon Condominiums. Know where it's at?" "Not a clue," Gavin said. Skye shook her head. "Guess we'd better find a map." "Or, better idea," Skye said. "We could head there." She pointed to the skyline, where a massive plume of smoke seemed to be rising behind the slowly-thinning veil of snow. It appeared to be coming from someplace near the center of the city, though it was difficult to make out exactly where due to the sheer height of several of the buildings. And though numerous other smoke trails joined it, the three Rocket Agents could not help but feel that something seemed . . . peculiar about this particular one. "Smoke's gotta mean battle, and with that much there . . . It's gotta be pretty intense, right?" "Excellent point," Ethan said. "Do you want to stop by a Pokémon Center first and get Combusken healed up?" Skye paused. "Er . . . That'd probably be a good idea," she said, looking down at the Fire-Fighting-Type's Poké Ball. "But I don't want to leave you guys alone, either, and he's not that badly injured . . . I'll just keep an eye out for a Center on the way over there." The older Agent searched her face for several moments before finally nodding. "Okay," he said. "We'll help you look, too. In the meantime, try to stay close by." Skye nodded. Moving to the front of the group again, Ethan took off, the three shifting direction to head toward Central Park. IC: special special special special special special special special special special special special special you you are not special it's time it's time it's time time time time time it's time to feed

IC - ??? - Celadon City, Central Park: Rapidash's hoofs clocked rhythmic against the pavement, a sharp click-clack that cut through the sounds of battle all around. The snow seemed to bend and twist around him and his Pokémon, doing little if anything to impede progress toward their target. Indeed, nothing slowed him. Though combatants--Rockets and civilians--occasionally ran past him, he merely continued walking, slipping by without their notice. On the final leg of his journey, a wanton Rocket Agent stopped, and not recognizing him, brandished a Poké Ball. "Hey, kid!" the Agent shouted. "Off the street, now, before I decide you're working with these punks!" When he did not respond, the Agent growled, rushing forward and reaching to pull him from Rapidash's back. "Hey! I'm talking to you, you little--!" He grabbed the man by the wrist. The Rocket looked as if he was going to say something, though stopped when he realized that his hand was rapidly numbing, shards of ice beginning to cover his sleeve and glove. He struggled futilely against his grip. For several moments, it looked as if the man's entire body would freeze over. Eventually, however, he relinquished his grip, tossing the man aside. "You are not worth my efforts," he said. "Continue your pettish quest, but do not even consider crossing my path again." The man only nodded before scrambling to his feet and scampering off. With another prod, he continued on his way, eventually easing Rapidash to a stop as they entered Celadon's Central Park. The place was more or less a massive garden, large and circular in shape and resting almost within the very center of the city. And in the center of the circle there lay the city's greatest monument to its beloved Gym Leader: A massive tree, decorated with symbols and gifts no doubt related to some sort of local belief. He smirked at the sight, and then looked down at Rapidash. "What better symbolism than the felling of the queen? A call to war, a call to defense--perhaps, even, a call to draw inward," he said. With a deep breath, the snowstorm began to ease--not stopping, but simply slowing, bestowing him with a clear line of sight for his target. And, hopefully, providing a clear line of sight for all to view the rising smoke . . . "Rapidash, Flare Blitz." IC - Sonja Baron (Athena)/Maddison Hayes (Kricketune) - Fortree City, Ground Level: "Clearly, your faith in your friends is unshakable," Hayes said. "At least, for now it is. Kricketune, Brick Break." The Bug-Type shot forward, claws glowing. He headed straight for Athena, who took flight in an attempt to evade. "Athena, Detect!" Sonja called. The Pidove's eyes flashed for a brief moment, allowing her to fully dodge at the last possible moment. Sonja breathed a sigh of relief before looking back to Hayes. "Are you expecting to change our minds by talking?" "No," Hayes said. "But it's proving to be a great diversion, isn't it?" She pointed, prompting her sister to turn back to the battle just in time for Kricketune to change his stance into that of a Night Slash, which landed against Athena's side. The force of the attack sent her reeling, already barely able to hang on to consciousness. IC - Lucia Zyther/Jamie Arthur Poké Gears - Celadon City, Streets: Lucia and Jamie would soon receive a message. It was short and simple, straight to the point, and seemed to have been written by Ethan under a great deal of stress: IC - Emmerich Coleman - Chapel, Meeting Room: General Coleman pored over the files that Miriam had given him as she spoke, carefully combing through every pertinent detail. It seemed that just as with his impeccably perfect appearance, he would not let even the slightest detail regarding this incident slip under his radar if he could help it. At last, he looked back up at her and nodded. "Consider it done--in time," he said. "Unfortunately Executive Wright's authority matches my own, which means that I will have to summon another Rocket on par with us to second the motion." He took an annoyed breath as another thought crossed his mind. "That, or get in contact with an available Shadow Admin, which in this case would be Bounty. Either way, this may take up to an hour before we see any real results. Do you have a proposal for action until then?" IC: if you insist Mr. Hakuda if he loses when you will suffer the same fate consumed all the rest one identity devoured one truth one form if you insist if you resist you will be consumed

IC - Sonja Baron (Loki)/Maddison Hayes (Jynx) - Fortree City, Ground Level: "You sense nothing because your mind is closed off," Hayes said. "And it is that same closure that hampers your ability to understand the greater world. Jynx, Protect!" As the flaming boar bore down upon her, Jynx threw her hands up again. Again she produced a field of protective energy, the field cascading into existence around her until the very ground was touched. Yet even with the Protect in place, the force of Boarlite and Monstro's attack knocked the Humanshape Pokémon back several steps, a clear strain on her mind. And it was here that Sonja saw her chance. "That only works once, Sophia!" she called. "Loki, take her out!" The Fighting-Type grinned and nodded, charging forward. As the last vestiges of Jynx's Protect dispersed into the air around her, Loki appeared in front of her. He moved too fast for her to react, slamming his canes into the ground and then clasping his hands above his head, before bringing them down upon the ground before him. Even with Jynx's attempt to dodge, she could do nothing to stop the resulted Stone Edge that erupted underneath her, throwing her backwards. She landed with a heavy thud against the ground, her lack of movement indicating that she was stunned from the impact. Yet soon she managed to recovered, shakily pushing herself onto her knees. Teeth clenched, she raised her hands, launching forward a triplet of Nasty Plot-enhanced Ice Beams, which struck her three opponents. Loki's grin vanished as he became encased in ice, left to only stare out at Hayes and Jynx. At the very least, the Humanshape Pokémon collapsed after the attack, fainted from the exertion. Hayes recalled her, her expression betraying no anger. "Well done," the Second Child said. "Now onto the next." She hurled another Poké Ball forward, this one containing her Kricketune. The Bug-Type brandished its razor-like arms threateningly, clearly remembering the last time it had seen Evan and Sonja. "Can you keep up whatever momentum you think you've got?" Sonja asked. She, too, recalled her Pokémon, and after careful consideration, sent out Athena. The Pidove fluttered through the air for several seconds before landing, her chippy expression slowly dissolving as she became aware of the tense atmosphere around her, as well as the presence of her fully-evolved opponent. "If you're going to send out first-stage Pokémon against the rest of my team, then yes, I can." Sonja did not respond to this. "So what's this 'greater world' that we don't seem to be able to understand?" Sophia did not respond to this. IC - Esen Windred - Dendemille Town, Abandoned Windmills: As a Flying-Type specialist, Esen had spent countless hours studying various Pokémon of the type, learning their behaviors, their calls, their abilities--everything she could possibly need to know to create effective bonds with them should she ever find them in her possession. Noivern were not an exception. It had been through those hours of study that she had convinced herself of the need to own a Noivern, recognizing how beneficial its power would be for her in future situations. It was those same banks of knowledge that made her--and by extension Bat--hesitate to attack this particular Noivern. Most may have read its initial actions toward her as aggressive, and responded in kind. But Esen could tell that something was off. The Noivern growled at her, clearly disliking her presence in the windmill, yet the noise brought with it more of an air of suspicion than it did a sense of territorial conflict. The look in its eyes, too, was not anger--merely confusion. As if he had seen her kind and knew it to be an enemy, yet did not specifically recognize her. Like a very specific someone had made transgressions against it--as evidenced by the burn marks on its side, where it seemed some sort of cattle prod had applied. That was why Esen eased up, keeping her own careful eye on the Pokémon as she raised her hands, aiming to demonstrate that she meant no harm. The wild Pokémon, in turn, circled around her, watching her very, very carefully. Finally, it dared to approach, almost eliciting a sharp hiss from Bat that only stopped at a quick "Shh!" from his trainer, who slowly held a hand out. The Noivern eased as it sniffed her palm, apparently deciding that she could be trusted. "Good girl," Esen said, finally releasing the breath that she had not known she was holding. "It's okay. You have every reason to be wary of me. But I don't want to hurt you." She reached into her bag, producing a Rawst Berry. "Here--this should help you, if you'll take it." Though hesitant, the Sound Wave Pokémon eventually accepted, eating the berry from her palm. It even allowed Esen, smiling, to gently rub her head. "I think I can understand what you've gone through," she said, quiet. "You're by yourself, and someone took that as an invitation to hurt you. Didn't they?" She sighed. "Seems like that's all there is to people these days . . ." The Noivern did not seem to be paying much attention to her. But she did suddenly lift her head up, a look of alarm in her eyes as she to look toward one wall. With a frightened chirp, the Pokémon turned and fled, hiding among the rafters again. Esen stared after her, and then followed where her gaze had been, listening. At first she could not hear much of interest. Gradually, however, the trainer became aware of many bat-like cries, slowly dispersing. Then, moments later, the sound of a running truck began to stand out. She furrowed her brow, confused, and then glanced up at the Noivern, who had turned to look at her again with suspicion. Esen held a hand up. "Stay here," she said, and then turned, hurrying outside. Bat stared after her, not immediately following. Instead the Swoobat looked back up at its fellow bat, sending a short, telepathic message to her before following after his trainer. IC - Ethan Worth (Serena, Céris)/Gavin Braner (Irest, Ithes)/Skye Hall (The Human Torchic)/Leigh Rosemary (Carnivine)/Rocket Strike Team Alpha (Jenner/Marowak, Nakamura/Kingdra, Dufour/Weezing, Venet/Stantler) - Celadon City, Streets: The particular street of Celadon City upon which Ethan Worth, Gavin Braner, Skye Hall, and five other Rocket Agents composing Strike Team Alpha could be described at this instant with one word: Bedlam. Even with each combatant limiting their self to roughly one Pokémon each, they each found it extremely difficult to keep track of what was happening and when it had happened. The breakdown went as thus: Gavin Braner + Irest and Ithes v. Agent Nakamura + Kingdra and Agent Dufour + Weezing For Gavin, these opponents were not particularly difficult. Each was hindered by separate circumstances, and thus his number of variables were limited--it was merely a matter of getting his opponents down and out. It was a maneuverability issue; for though the Water-Type and Poison-Type could both float, their ability to navigate the storm of snow rested on their ability to combat the blowing winds, which was easier said than done. This was not necessarily a problem for either Ithes or Irest. This would not take long. "Ithes, Hydro Pump on Weezing!" the Rocket Agent called. "Irest, Cross Poison to Kingdra!" "Weezing, Sludge Bomb!" "Dragon Pulse, Kingdra!" The two sides charged and launched their attacks. It was a fairly typical affair: The Hydro Pump and Sludge Bomb collided, the former winning out yet still missing due to Weezing's dodge. As Irest charged, the Kingdra launched a Dragon Pulse, striking him in the chest though not fainting him. And from there it continued like that, for a rather inordinate amount of time--a series of attacks and counterattacks that dealt little damage and accomplished virtually nothing of value for either side. Clearly, this would require something different. Something unexpected. Like a shurikan. "Ithes, Rapid Spin on my signal! Irest--throw him!" The Drapion gave Gavin a look suggesting he was insane, though decided to go along with the move anyway. Picking up the Water-Type, he took careful aim--and then began to spin, building up momentum. Finally, he let go, successfully launching Ithes in the direction of their opposition. "Ithes--now!" And that was when Ithes began to spin. Powered by the throw, he slammed into Weezing, launching the Poison-Type backwards. Ithes's own spinning allowed him to redirect his course, bouncing back and striking Kingdra in the head. The Dragon Pokémon fell to the ground, fainted from the impacted, while Weezing huffed as it struggled to rise again. Seeing this, Irest charged forward, slamming the Poison-Type into the ground with his tail. The attack managed to knock it out. "Impressive!" Nakamura called as he recalled his Kingdra. "But can you defeat this so easily?" He reached for another Poké Ball on his belt, as did Dufour. Gavin whistled, sending Ithes hurtling forward again. The Starmie slammed into both Rocket Agents, winding them and knocking them to the ground. "Honestly," he said. "I'd prefer it if we could cut some corners here." With that, he recalled his Pokémon, hurrying away. Skye Hall + The Human Torchic v. Agent Leigh Rosemary + Carnivine This was perhaps the most difficult fight that Skye had taken part of, even considering Havoc. At least against her opponent there, she had had others to back her up; but now? Now she was expected to take on this Agent Rosemary by herself, and she was not entirely confident in her ability to do so. The Human Torchic seemed to shiver in the cold, clearly not used to the snow, and this overall discomfort did not appear to be lost on the Rocket Agent. "Looks like your friends've abandoned you," Rosemary said. Her own Carnivine spun in the air, shivering more than Torchic for entirely different reasons. "You sure you don't want to give up, kid?" "I feel that would be counter-intuitive to my well-being," Skye said. "Moreso than an actual battle. If that makes sense." "I get it," Rosemary said. "You want a chance to defend yourself. Maybe to even prove yourself." She smirked. "Admirable, but unwise--as you're about to find out. Carnivine, use Crunch." On the order, the Grass-Type lunged forward, large mouth wide-open. The Human Torchic cheeped in suppressed fear at the daunting sight, before kicking backwards, causing Carnivine to slam into the ground. A cloud of snow and dirt erupted upward from the impact, forcing Torchic to turn to avoid being blinded. Skye, too, covered her face. "Torchic, use Ember!" The Chick Pokémon puffed up, releasing a short burst of flame at his target. Though it struck, Carnivine did not seem fazed by the attack, instead merely pushing itself up from the ground and shooting forward again. Though Torchic dodged, this time the Grass-Type nicked his side, causing the Fire-Type to grimace in pain. He continued to pelt the Bug Catcher Pokémon's hide with small fire balls, each one proving just as ineffective as the last. Rosemary laughed. "You see, kid?" she said. "You're not going to beat me--that Torchic of yours just isn't strong enough." The Rocket Agent's uncrossed her arms. "Carnivine, hit it with Power Whip!" With what sounded like a cackle, the Grass-Type thrust its arm sideways, a powerful vine erupting from its hand and slamming against Torchic's frail body. The attack sent the Fire-Type reeling past Skye, who could only bring herself to watch in shock as the small bird skidded to a stop behind her, with no signs of movement. "Torchic!" she cried, running to his side. Skye crouched down beside him, gingerly picking up the Fire-Type and cradling him in her arms. She was surprised to find that he was still conscious, and just barely able to move his head in order to glare at the Carnivine who had injured him. He made a slowly and pained motion, clearly trying to get back to his feet. "Torchic, no! You're too hurt to do anything else." Despite her pleas, the Chick Pokémon continued to struggle against her hold. His desperation--his clear desire to protect his trainer, futile as it seemed--shocked Skye, and she could not help but feel her throat slowly clench, a sensation accompanied by the tears welling in her eyes. "Torchic . . ." Across the field, Rosemary sighed. "Enough of this," she said. "Carnivine, finish them off." Skye gasped. She turned just in time to see the Grass-Type lunge again, mouth open and ready for another Crunch--this one aimed at her. And in that moment, she knew true powerlessness. Torchic suddenly stopped, his eyes growing wide as he watched, as if in slow motion, the impending death of his trainer. Millions of thoughts ran through his head, all of them centered around the same, single concept: Protect. He took a deep breath, opening his beak. While he had intended another Ember to fly, instead he produced something much more helpful: A blazing stream of fire. The Flamethrower attack caught the Carnivine dead-on, burning its face and causing it to divert its course, landing several feet away from where Skye and Torchic sat. The trainer stared, baffled, at the injured Grass-Type, and then turned her head to Torchic as a warm light enveloped his form. "Torchic . . .?" she said. "You're . . . You're evolving?" So he was. His body became bipedal, claws growing larger, arms sprouting from his body. At last, Skye held not a Torchic, but a Combusken--one still badly injured from the battle, but still energized by his transformation. Gently, he pushed Skye's hands away, and then rose to his feet, taking a moment to gain his balance. At the same time, Carnivine stirred, slowly recovering. Rosemary blinked away her surprise, shaking her head. "You're lucky, I suppose," she said. "But this won't change anything." The Human Torchic growled in response. Skye looked between her Pokémon and Rosemary apprehensively. Finally, she settled on the enemy trainer. "I wouldn't be so sure about that." She pushed herself up. "After all, the hero always wins in the end." Though starting slowly, Combusken finally gained enough momentum to slam into the injured Carnivine, knocking it back into the snow. He wasted no time in reaching down, taking hold of the Grass-Type's vine-like legs and beginning to pull, and then spin. Soon he had gained enough speed to launch it into the air, where he finished it off with another Flamethrower. Rosemary had only a moment to step out of the way of the burning Bug Catcher Pokémon before it landed on her, unfortunately still catching the brunt of the searing flames in the process. She cried out in pain, gripping her burned nose, and barely managing to recall her Pokémon before fleeing, calling for medical attention. Combusken smirked after her, though soon collapsed to his knee, prompting Skye to run to his side again. This time, however, she smiled, wiping away the last vestiges of the tears in her eyes. "Buddy," she said. "That was amazing." Combusken chirped happily at his trainer. "Let's get you healed up, okay?" Ethan Worth + Serena and Céris v. Agent Jenner + Marowak and Agent Venet + Stantler The biggest problem with these second-rate Rocket Agents, as Ethan had discovered, was that they were not at all against the idea of using their ill-begotten "Executive privilege" to justify lethal force. At least, this was the case with these particular Agents, Jenner and Venet, who had taken to pulling their pistols on him in addition to sending their Pokémon after his own. Thus this battle had become less about his ability to effectively command Pokémon and more about how well he could put the advanced CQC training he had received into practice. Part of that involved free-running and--more useful at the current moment--taking cover. Which he was now doing. Celadon was great for this in that the city was dotted with various decorative statues, many of them set beside the streets. Currently, he hid behind a large, bronze sculpture of a Vileplume, a monument that had been erected in honor of Erika some time ago. The sound of shots echoed through the air every few seconds, and those shots, too, were dotted with the occasional clang of metal striking metal--bullets bouncing off of said Vileplume statue. He was not alone in attempting to deal with this inconvenience. Céris darted around his Marowak opponent, sidestepping attacks as quickly as he could whilst simultaneously attempting to work his way in Ethan's direction. This was proving to be extremely difficult, as the Ground-Type was quickly proving itself to be more than capable of matching the Scizor's speed with equally strong attacks. Céris would dodge around one Bone Rush, only to find himself just within the path of a Fire Punch, which would then shift into a localized Earthquake that required him to jump backward to avoid taking damage. All in all, his defensive game was being pushed to the limit. Serena was not fairing much better. It seemed that Venet's Stantler held some sort of grudge against the Deerling's evolutionary line, as it had slipped into a sort of bull-like rage upon seeing her--quite a strange sight for a reindeer, all things considered. Few blows had been traded thus far, as after the first few--including a Jump Kick that had dealt somewhat serious damage to Serena--the Deerling had fled, turning their battle into an all-out chase. She darted to and fro, weaving about where she could in an attempt to lose her pursuer; all the while, the Stantler merely growled, continuing after her, its horns and snout constantly glowing with the ready signs of some unknown attack. Her situation was not invisible to Ethan, who found that he could only shout out orders until an opportunity arose for him to strike. And knowing all that he knew about the current situation, he could see that the key to their victory rested on one simple part of the equation: Serena's ability to get that Stantler off of her trail. But how? . . . Of course! "Serena!" he yelled. "Camouflage!" The Deerling looked up in surprise, only briefly catching a glimpse of his encouraging nod as she passed by. But that was all she needed, as the move's utility registered to her. Taking a deep breath, she concentrated, working to become one with her surroundings. Stantler slid to a halt as the Deerling's color changed, allowing her to blend in almost perfectly with the deep snow around them. The one tell-tale sign that could have given her away immediately--her footsteps--would not betray her, for it seemed that she was taking care to tread only when and where it could not see her movements. Appropriately, her ambush came by total surprise--a Grass Whistle that carried with the howling wind, almost inaudible. But it worked. The sensation of music and snow melded together in the Stantler's head, instantly throwing it into a half-asleep state from which it struggled to escape. Frantic, the Big Horn Pokémon launched off a Thunderbolt in front of it, scorching the earth and sending up a cloud of snowy dust. Serena responded with another Grass Whistle. This time, the Stantler could not resist the move. It fell to the ground. And with herself free, Serena could turn the tide. First she charged Céris's opponent, finally reappearing into full view. The Marowak grunted in surprise as she slammed into its side, knocking it back. With a grateful nod at the Deerling, Céris lunged, using his own Agility and Double Hit combination to turn the tables on the Ground-Type. The Bone Keeper Pokémon responded in kind, swinging its marrow weapon in time enough to match each of the Scizor's hits. Eventually,Céris stepped back, letting the Marowak's momentum carrying it forward, before using the opening to slam a Night Slash straight into the Ground-Type's stomach, launching it across the field. That left only Ethan to save. Serena led the way, Céris directly behind. Neither of Ethan's opponents appeared to have noticed their Pokémons' defeats, instead choosing to continue focusing on attacking the Final Rocket. And for a moment, it seemed that no even the charging Scizor and Deerling could distract them. That was, at least, until said Deerling's body began to glow brightly, becoming engulfed in a rainbow of white, green, red, and orange. This finally got their attention, the bright rays briefly blinding Céris, Jenner, and Venet, so much so that they could not see her body grow larger, fur growing longer, horns elongating--and it was these that she used to knock their guns out of their hands. And there's my opening. Ethan wasted no time in darting out from behind his hiding place, making a beeline for the enemy Rockets. Though he was unused to running in snow, and almost slipped several times, he forced himself on, using his momentum to tackle Venet to the ground. Rolling off of her, he swept his foot under Jenner's, tossing him off balance; he soon fell, hitting his head against the ground hard enough to daze him. As Venet moved to retaliate, Ethan grabbed a handful of snow, tossing it in her face and briefly blinding her, granting Ethan enough time to swing his leg around again and slam his shin against the Rocket's head, knocking her to the cold ground. Céris offered his trainer a hand, pulling him to his feet. Ethan panted, taking a moment to catch his breath before nodding in approval at the Scizor and now-Sawsbuck. "Great work," he said. "Now it's time to find the others." OOC: Species: Sawsbuck. Nickname: Serena. Trainer: Ethan Worth. Appearance: Serena looks like a normal Sawsbuck in all of her forms. Personality: Serena is very careful, much like a normal deer would be. She takes her time studying others before getting near them, so as to be better prepared in case they try to do anything to her. Generally, Serena is kind and gentle, though a little icy around strangers. She has taken quite a liking to Ethan since joining his team, and feels fully at home amongst her fellow Grass-Types; as such she is extremely loyal to him and would lay down her life if his became threatened. Ability: Serene Grace. Specialty: With her evolution, Serena's speed and attack power have increased tremendously. Her defenses are no longer as fragile as they once were, though she still finds it difficult to take too many hits without fainting. Her support attacks are more developed, allowing her to utilize them more effectively than she could before. Known Moves: Nature Power, Aromatherapy, Jump Kick, Horn Leech, Grass Whistle (Egg Move), Megahorn. +Megahorn Camouflage > Nature Power Double Kick > Jump Kick Take Down > Horn Leech The Human Torchic: -Torchic > Combusken --Ember > Flamethrower --Peck > Double Kick --Quick Attack > Slash IC - ??? - Celadon City, Streets: He paced. So it seems that we have a deadlock: Pawns all placed such that any move results in a counter, no side gaining nor losing significant ground. He stopped. From the balcony he stood upon the battlefield did, indeed, reveal its secrets; and though he had only a limited view from which to directly observe, those steps and movements within his domain told him much more. And so it was thus that allowed him to know and make his proclamations. Both sides move without clear objective--one merely to defend, one to destroy. This must change if my own is to be completed. He held a hand out, the snow and shadows coalescing into a purple Poké Ball. This he threw, the motion commanding it to open and unleash its contained servant into the world. The light within materialized into a Rapidash, outfitted with riding gear fit for a one of prestigious descent--as he was. The Fire Horse Pokémon's warm breath showed against the cool air as it breathed, a steady stream that shuddered only as he climbed up and into the saddle, taking her reins in his hands. Let the fire guide them forth through this, the most dangerous of storms. With his gentle prodding, she moved, the pair making their way through the building and towards their destination . . . IC: Relinquish that human self which remains. The all-consuming hunger will wait no longer; it is time to accept that which you know to be your true nature: The voracious beast that knows only its own need for unattainable contentment . . .

I cannot begin to describe how stoked I am to have actually won a random drawing. XD But yeah! I'm very excited! Thanks a ton for organizing this, JMJ!

IC - Kyle Eston - Dendemille Town, Abandoned Windmills: The door shuddered from the impact of Sanshou's attack, though the lock did not break--at least not at first. Frowning, the Mienfoo assumed a crane pose, before planting her raised foot back onto the ground and spin-kicking the door with her other one. A sharp crack sounded as the lock broke, prompting the door to swing inward from the force of the kick. Kyle gave the Fighting-Type a gentle pat on the head before slowly stepping inside, cautious of what lay within. Kitheus and Sanshou followed. If the outer appearance only tipped Kyle off to the windmill's devious nature, the interior managed to prove his concern. The entire structure had been reinforced and remodeled from the inside--presumably leaving the exterior as aged as possible in order to disguise its contents. Cables stretched from one machine high above to the next, gradually leading down to a set of some sort of transportable cages, each of them just short and thin enough to be wheeled through the doorway. Presently, they appeared to be locked into the ground. It was not so much the cages themselves that caught Kyle's attention as their contents: Dozens upon dozens of small, bat-like Pokémon, each of them with purplish fur and large ears. They crawled around and over each other with a clear sense of fear, those on the outer edges appearing to be in constant pain. As he got over his initial astonishment, Kyle was able to inspect the cages more closely and discover why: Every touch of the bars surrounding them elicited a sharp shock of electricity--a containment mechanism that appeared to be powered by the spinning of the creaky wind turbines above the cages. Kyle could not personally find the words to describe how he felt about this. All he could do was feel--and what he felt was the boiling of his blood. "Sanshou, Kitheus," he said, struggling to stop his hands from shaking. "Get these things open." Sanshou nodded, rushing forward. Kitheus lagged behind, though not out of a sense of rebellion. He stopped halfway between Kyle and the cages, staring upward. Without warning, his eyes widened, and the Magneton unleashed an alarmed Metal Sound, catching Sanshou's attention. The Fighting-Type covered her ears and looked up, just barely managing to jump out of the way of the Cacturne that then landed where she had been but a moment previous. A massive Garbodor slammed into the ground a moment later, the glower on its face matching its companions' manic grin in sheer intensity. Kyle furrowed his brow as Kitheus and Sanshou retreated closer to him, cut off from their initial target. "Of course these people wouldn't leave captive Pokémon unguarded," he said. "Sanshou, hit that Cacturne with U-Turn! Kitheus, Tri-Attack!" They took immediate action. Sanshou leaped forward, twisting around in midair so as to plant her feet against the Grass- and Dark-Type for her attack. She instead crashed into a spiky shield of energy that materialized around her opponent, the spines digging into the pads of her feet and injuring her. As she landed on the ground in front of the Cacturne, its shield dissipated, and it swung out at the Fighting-Type with Needle Arm, forcing her to use Detect in order to avoid being hit. Nearby, the three Magnemite composing Kitheus's body reformatted, each one pouring forth energy into a triangle-shaped beam. This they launched at the Garbodor, who had already lurched backwards before thrusting its head forward, launching a Gunk Shot into the path of the attack. With the Tri-Attack successfully blocked, the Poison-Type lunged. Though it knew some of its attacks would be ineffective against Kitheus's Steel-Typing, it remained undeterred, and almost seemed to relish the irony of the Drain Punch that it threw out at the Magneton. Thinking quickly, Kitheus Discharged a small amount of excess energy into the air around it, narrowly missing Kyle, Cacturne, and Sanshou despite the small space. Garbodor, however, was rendered disoriented enough for Kitheus to dodge, floating into the air above it. "Kitheus, Supersonic!" Kyle called. "Sanshou, try using Swift!" The components of Kitheus's body fanned out, creating a pseudo-satellite shape as he bore down upon the Garbodor with sonic waves. The attack proved effective in confusing the Poison-Type, who struggled to make sense of the world around it. It gripped its head in pain for several moments, before unleashing a savage roar and striking out. Powerful Seed Bombs launched from the tubes of its hands, striking Kitheus and knocking him lower into the air. Garbodor followed this up with another Drain Punch, successfully striking Kitheus and spiking him down at an angle. He slammed into one of the cages, his body managing to shatter the bars--simultaneously catching him in a constant barrage of electricity. Several occurrences followed. First was that, with the cage no longer trapping them, the air became filled with the bat-like Pokémon. They immediately poured out, fluttering to and fro, many of them going straight for the windmill exit whilst others began to rain attacks down on the still-confused Garbodor. The Poison-Type responded with more attacks, though their rapid movements mixed with its swimming vision only exacerbated the confusion, causing its Gunk Shot attacks to slam into the other cages--freeing more of the bats as a result. This, naturally, affected Kyle as well, and he found himself having to first duck beneath the swarm, and then crawl beneath them, taking refuge under a table against the far left wall. What was stranger was what happened to Kitheus. As if empowered by the surge of electricity, the Magneton's three bodies began to meld together, transforming and becoming one. Soon it was not a conglomeration of Magnemite, but a UFO-like Pokémon that resided where Kitheus had once lay. As the evolution completed, he was able to shrug off the continuous electricity, floating uncertainly in the air before finding his balance. When he did, he found that he was able to fully analyze the field, almost seeing every angle and detail of the current combatants at once. And, at present, it saw first and foremost a distracted and dazed Garbodor. The Magnezone blinked once, and then Locked On to the Poison-Type. Fueled by his new-found power, Kitheus gathered energy again, this time coalescing it into a pure Electric-Type attack. Then, he unleashed it. The Zap Cannon popped and crackled loudly as it flung through the air, striking its target with deadly precision. The Garbodor shrieked in pain, collapsing soon after from the sheer amount of damage caused by the attack. Sanshou, meanwhile, was having a much harder time against Cacturne. The Scarecrow Pokémon seemed to find blocking her attacks an effortless task, deflecting Swifts and tanking others with an almost gleeful ease. As she wore herself out, it eventually moved in, taking advantage of her fatigue to slow her down with a Cotton Spore attack before clamping its arms around her, effectively pinning her to its body as a makeshift shield against the surrounding, fleeing captives. As she struggled against Cacturne's hold, Sanshou's small body, too, began to glow. The enemy Pokémon strained to hold on to her as she became larger and taller, her muscles strengthening and whiskers, tail, and hand fur lengthening. At last, the light faded from the newly-evolved Mienshao's body. Sanshou twisted her head to look up at the Cacturne, a cold and deathly glare in her eyes, before headbutting it. The force of the blow stunned the Cacturne long enough for her to jab a Drain Punch into its stomach, before finally Bouncing off of its chest and out of its grip. Landing against the wall, she rebounded back towards Cacturne, managing to land a critical hit on her opponent's head and knock it out from the force of the blow. With Cacturne now taken care of, the three cages destroyed and the captured bats gone, Kyle felt he could breathe a bit easier again. He eased out from underneath the table, and then slowly rose to his feet. After adjusting his coat and sweeping the dust from it, he nodded to his Pokémon with a wide smile. "Nice work, you two." The evolved Pokémon took this as a sign that they could rest, and so they did, finding perches that would allow them to keep a careful eye on their unconscious opponents. Kyle, meanwhile, looked around, before fully registering the documents laid out on the table he had hidden under. Curious, he turned, picking one up and flipped through it. When this produced no useful information, he chose another one, continuing this with a sharp, scrutinizing eye. Finally, he found something. It was an odd document--something like a shipping label, though he couldn't be sure. If anything, it seemed more like instructions, directions on who to speak to at specific points and where to send various items. There was one listing in particular that caught his eye, and he had to reread it several times to ensure that he was not mistaken: "Loads 5FY/3DR RE: Keturi City." Kyle frowned. "Keturi City . . ." he repeated out loud. "That means . . . Is someone on Four Island having these kinds of Pokémon imported?" That train of thought came to a forceful end as the Liberty Agent heard the soft sound of ruffling material--a sleeve lightly moving--followed by a second's worth of electrical crackling. At the same time, a red light suddenly enveloped Kitheus and Sanshou, dragging them back into their Poké Balls. The next instant, two prongs jammed into his back, a powerful electric current crackling between them. He could not so much as utter in pain as the volts coursed through his body, locking his muscles. With no way to keep himself upright, Kyle toppled forward, banging his head against the table on the way down. He was out cold before he hit the ground. The two men who stood in the doorway gave him a few moments before venturing in. One wore a white coat and a white-striped, black bowler. He was a younger man with long, red hair, and it was his taser, fired from the end of his black and red cane, that finally unlatched from Kyle's back, allowing its owner to reel it back in. In his other hand, he held a small black device lined with several buttons, which he nonchalantly rolled through his fingers as he approached, finally placing it into his pocket with an impressed and appreciative look. His much larger companion followed behind him, coming to stand on Kyle's other side. "Well, I suppose that answers the question about whether this actually works," said White Coat, speaking directly to the unconscious trainer as he gestured with the device. He prodded Kyle with the foot of his cane, nudging him onto his back. A bruise was already forming on the Liberty Agent's forehead. "As well as our confusion about you. Doesn't it?" White Coat shook his head. "Mal, restrain the kid and throw him in the truck with the rest of our catch--we can't leave him here after seeing all of this." The larger man nodded, tucking his own black and yellow cane under his arm as he bent down to hook his hands under Kyle's arms. "What about the Noibats?" White Coat set a cigar between his lips, lighting it and taking a long draw of the resulting fumes. "What about them?" he asked. "We'll make 'em up with the next shipment--assuming her pick-up ever gets here. And in the meantime, he gets to answer for their loss." He jabbed his cane towards Kyle. "Once we're done with him . . . I've heard Hojohsin's got quite a bounty on Liberty kids." He chuckled, pushing past Mal, who soon began to drag Kyle after him. OOC: This has been such a long time coming . . . Species: Magneton. Nickname: Kitheus. Trainer: Kyle Eston. Appearance: Kitheus is more or less a standard Magnezone. However, his 'shoulder' eyes are green and blue for the left and right shoulders, respectively. Personality: As a result of achieving his final form, Kitheus has regained full control of his instincts and mind, creating a being of absolute calm. Extremely intelligent, analytic, and certain of his own self, Kitheus nevertheless remains a loyal and selfless companion, always seeking to do what he can to help others in need. His capacity to integrate and connect with machinery has improved immensely with his new body. Ability: Analytic. Specialty: Kitheus's main specialties lie in special attacks and in inflicting status conditions, although his defenses have also greatly increased as a result of his second evolution. Known Moves: Flash Cannon, Supersonic, Zap Cannon, Lock-On, Tri-Attack, Magnet Rise. Metal Sound > Flash Cannon Thundershock > Zap Cannon Discharge > Magnet Rise Species: Mienshao. Nickname: Sanshou. Trainer: Kyle Eston. Appearance: Sanshou looks like a regular Mienshao. Personality: An incredibly serious Pokemon. Sanshou spends much of her time meditating and observing, silently focusing on whatever it is that she is focusing on. She is a quiet, thoughtful, and loyal Mienfoo who will do whatever it takes to get her job done. As of her evolution, she has become extremely resolute and stoic, only showing her softer side to her trainer and long-time teammates. Ability: Regenerator. Specialty: Sanshou is extremely quick, specializing in speed, dodging and physical attacks, all of which have become significantly more pronounced skills as of her evolution. Her ability to take hits has increased, though she continues to prefer a minimum of direct damage in combat. Known Moves: Detect, Swift, Drain Punch, U-Turn, Meditate, Bounce. Force Palm > Drain Punch Calm Mind > Bounce Cutting other IC from post for same reason as that other post that was supposed to have this one in it. #tired