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Abe rocked back like someone had smacked him. Go figure his break from society and ignorant prejudice would come back to bite him.
Lying was futile. Truth would be equally as futile.
He wasn't going to talk his way out of this. Strangely, though, he felt some relief that this moment was inevitable and not a direct cause of his impulsive stupidity.
He stewed for a bit, hanging his head so he wouldn't have to look at that freaking Mime. When he spoke, his words were obviously thought out and precise.
"Two people on respirators died because of me. Just two more tolls chalked up to the Catalyst. I wouldn't even be here if it weren't for that damn Mew..."
He looked up and studied the geezer. "...yet here I am. About to watch a bunch of whacked-out nutjobs kill an innocent woman. I don't feel any guilt for what I did."
He reached into his coat pocket and withdrew a Pokeball. He stared at it a bit before speaking. Quietly this time.
"You know...the problem with people...is that we're weak. It doesn't matter how buff we get, we still lose to the weakest of pokemon. It doesn't matter how fast we get, we can't outrun the slowest of pokemon." He glared at the Mime. "It doesn't matter how smart we get because even the dumbest of Psychic pokemon can steal our thoughts away from us."
He held up the Pokeball so that both could see it.
"But...what we do have that pokemon don't...is the ability to create. We can create a chassis that can withstand the hottest of fire breaths. We can alter its physics to make it move faster than any being alive. Make it withstand the greatest of impacts. We can give it a mind that not even Mew can steal."
He laughed a bit. "Naturally, we haven't gotten that far in several of those venues. Even if we had before resources became so scarce, we wouldn't be able to trust it in the hands of anyone. But...I HAVE made the mind that no Pokemon can read. It will take far more than a class of Computer Science III to understand how it works."
He rolled the Pokeball across the table nonchalantly towards the Geezer.
"Do whatever you want to me. No way in hell I'm working for you guys with my life's greatest achievement."
The timer that he activated on his custom Pokeball went off, and in a burst of light an enraged Scyther leaped towards Mr. Mime, arm blades flashing.

Elian had found her concerned state fading into pure curiosity, her previous notions of a dying, weak entity exchanging for the reality that was in front of her. The light pulsed like a brilliant force, what would have been crushing waves of power, flowing through her like your first breath of air, as if Elian had the recollection of such an event, there was no other way to explain the phenominon. At the same time, Elian could feel her heart weigh heavy in the aura that left the awe inspiring entity, the lonliness and sorrow that Elian shared with the ghostly essence in front of her.

The gem on Aislin's forehead glowed bright, the pair having to equally put forth a generous amount of effort to keep from simply fading into nothing in the presence of the god-like power in front of them. The experience, at its core, was truly indescribable, but Elian couldn't help but ask why she was there, witnessing such a thing. What had deemed her worthy?

Then, a voice. It rang quietly, like a whisper barely caught in the wind, but it seemed to not only be heard, but be felt, as if the voice itself were a living, breathing thing to recognize. Someone? Yes, Elian happened to be someone. Could this presence, so awe inspiring and grand, really only notice her, as if she were a passing phantom?

Then, the creature seemed to react with child-like surprise. It was a strange sensation, considering that the entity felt like such a grand and wonderful being, that it was merely a child. Elian could also feel the regret, the remorse, as if the creature, knew what it had done. Even if Elian thought she was merely dreaming, what were the chances it would be about...?

At this point, the heat was becoming unbearable, but Elian desperately wanted to ease this spirit, this Mew, who must have stood for something in her dreams. Even if she didn't believe herself to be an oracle, Elian knew that even if this was as small as an inner conflict with herself, it needed to be resolved, this entity in front of her needed help.

"N-no! Wait! I want to help-!"

Then, for a third time, darkness.

~

Even with the extra sleep, the pair still felt groggy as they slowly awakened. Elian glanced around the strange room, forgetting where she was, for a moment.

"...you..." She finished, sighing softly as she glanced over to her side, noticing that Aislin had at some point, crawled up onto the bed to lay beside her.

"...What are we going to do?...What do we need to do?"

As Rikes and Dr. Bogdan drove off in Andrej's BMW (rarely used since the Calamity, but definitely reasonable considering the task in hand), they saw, as usual, the beautiful arch that spanned the width of the bridge that provided exit to the city's north face. At either side of the gray, stone construct was a single bright, pink rose blossoms made of granite. The black steel lettering at the top read, "Enjoy the Journey Ahead!" in elaborate, flowing script was not quite as rigid as it had once been; at least, a few seemed a little off-center. There was graffiti on one side - small lettering, but then again, teens couldn't exactly afford spray paint anymore. Still, it was a tribute to Riverdale's endurance that the arch stood at all.

Almost immediately after crossing the bridge, the two travelers heard a noise like distant thunder coming from the west. Looking out of the windows of the car, they could see, surprisingly near a trio of equines approaching - two ponyta and a rapidash, apparently charging them. Their hooves pounded mercilessly into the earth and they left a rising column of dust behind them as their dark eyes never wavered from right in front of them. Riding the rapidash on a heat-resistant saddle and wearing thick, leather gloves and boots was a dark-faced man wearing a sombrero, his eyes set on the vehicle. Much of his face was hidden beneath a western-style kerchief that served well to avoid the dust the horses kicked up. The two parties were moving perpendicular to one another and seemed due for a collision.

The bandito smiled grimly beneath his kerchief. This was what a mercenary lived for. Kill a kid? Eh, not the best job ever, but the price was good. Hell, the price was great. Kill Bogdan, though? Kill a geezer with five decades of pokémon training under his belt? Hell, that'd be just plain fun. And he could do it any way he wanted. In his head, the foreboding, awesome tunes of the trumpets and guitars for a bullfight began playing their tune.

((Sorry, I wrote that last one and realized only later it didn't actually open any venues. Here be venues!))

---

The meganium thrashed mightily on the ground, by no means willing to let either of those going for its head get there. The charmander's few scratch marks met with a slick, solid barrier, but the flame had to be actively repulsed by the meganium's damaged ether reserves. Further damage was prevented because the lizard was simultaneously dodging the massive, swinging head and neck. Because of Juno and Oddjob's interference, Zoidberg deemed it unwise to attempt a long-rage, projectile strike. As the beast continued getting to its feet, its growls and roars became infused with an ethereal intensity that shook the hearts of those nearby. It was not about to give up to just one blow, from one stinking alakazam. But it was clear that the damage it had taken had been felt. Now, its eyes were on the psychic-type. That was the real opponent. It kicked up a smaller wind of razor-sharp leaves to drive off the smaller attackers and only made sure to keep them in its sights.

The riflemen had so far stayed closely packed into their group, apparently at ease now that Juno had shown a willingness to go along with their plan. At the meganium's fall, the three who were not their apparent group leader had winced while the actual leader suppressed a cry of rage.

This particular woman's name was Sarah Amlund, Bishop of the Exterminant. She had taken command of these three rather average assassins, as ordered, and begun her journey with her meganium far earlier than the Pack had started its movements. Moving under cover of night and using her own jinx, she had evaded detection from Glenville's many watchmen, frequently having to physically beat her command to silence. There had actually been five in the original contingent, but one had made too much noise; as is appropriate for those who would impede the progress of the Exterminant, his sacrifice in the name of purification was made early.

This meganium was a particular prize of hers. An accomplished breeder of pokémon before the Calamity, Sarah had produced this hulking tyrant of a creature through careful husbandry. As a chikorita, it had only come up to her knees, but the trick, she had learned, was to... well. That was her own secret, which she had shared only with the most powerful members of the Exterminant. Anyway, she had created the monster than was finally regaining its feet, and she saw it almost as a test of her own ability to pit this against McCulloch. For just the girl, it had been an insult to her. It was why she had made the deal with the kid. She didn't want to execute a little girl, even in the name of the Exterminant. Children could be purified, and she had yet to get a straight answer about why these kids needed to be killed. But with McCulloch on the scene, this had gotten to be a real battle.

And she swore to her God that if McCulloch pulled the trigger on her pet, he would be making his sacrifices before the Journey, as well, starting with all his potential progeny. Seeing his willingness, a dangerous spark found light in her eyes, and she adjusted her grip on the gun she had pointing at the ground.

---

As Gerard moved back through the city, he began to see individuals from the Pack that had made it through. Most were stark-raving mad and were rummaging through Dumpsters and trash cans for food - those that had not already found a fresher meal. Murcrows and mundane crows alike could be seen circling towards the northeast, where there were plenty of corpses piling up from the battle that was still being waged.

All of a sudden, a persian was running at him full-tilt and seemed quite prepared to tear open his thigh. It had seemed to come from nowhere - then again, the big cats are not known for their high visibility. He was just a few dozen yards from his shop. Gerard gunned the motor, his jaw set firm as he kept his eyes forward, with the pokémon in his periphery. It didn't seem at first like he could make it, but that was before, with a flash of red light, an arcanine fell from the sky, tackled the pouncing feline, and bathed its face in flame. Jacob Thatcher could be seen on top of the Waverlys' shop and threw a whimsical salute before turning, aiming his rifle, and making short work of a pair of mad dogs that had found a woman running to one of the wounded in the street.

Safe in the shop, Gerard knew he didn't have long to pick up whatever he needed. His mother greeted him with an ecstatic hug and said, "Gerard! We were so worried about you! Mr. Thatcher said he got sent here to protect you, but you had headed out too fast. Are you okay? What do you need? All he told us was you're on a mission, and we'll help you any way we can, but you know we need to be at least a little stingy with things for when this whole Pack mess is over. We're here for you, Gerry."

---

The madwoman crouched behind her dog while the houndour growled ominously. She swallowed a few times, trying to get Alexis's words into her head. Something was seriously wrong with her, but it seemed that lucidity was approaching, slowly. "You're... you're abetting Reconstruction! You should be killed! You should be stopped! Doom! Doom and Hell!" she spat angrily, twitching violently. "You'll send us all to Hell! Kill us all before we can be pure! Before the Oracle makes us pure!"

Suddenly, she noticed her houndour. It seemed to shock her into a sudden calm. "I..." Her gaze flicked back and forth between the canine and Alexis. "I took both, see," she said in apparent explanation, and pointed to the marks in her skin. "They said to take one, it would let me see the mew, and then I could be a saint, and everything would be okay, right? Right? That's what they said."

She shook her head and put a trembling hand on the dog's thin back. "They said that a week ago and then they left me here and I don't understand why but I didn't want to give one to Rex 'cuz that would be dumb, right? And mean. You can't give a pokémon heroin; not that much, it'll kill it, and I couldn't do that, 'cuz he's a good dog. Rex is a good dog. Right?" She had a glassy look in her eyes and in her shivering smile. The animal was clearly worried for her, but kept its focus on Lexi. "They said stay near the flowers. They said you'd stop here, 'cuz we left that pokéball out, and they said stay near the flowers, and they said to kill you. To kill you! I should, I should kill you! Uh-huh! But..."

She sat down suddenly and tears began leaking out of her eyes. It occurred to Lexi how young this woman was - she couldn't be older than her twenties. "I don't know what to do! And I'm hungry, and Rex is hungry, but I didn't want to leave the flowers because I want the Mew to love me! And they said to stay near them, and- and- and I-" Her words degraded into hiccups that wracked her emaciated frame. Her thinness reminded Lexi of a grocery store she had seen while driving in. Surely Woodmount hadn't managed to clear out everything.

---

With some surprise, the mr. mime swiftly threw up a barrier around itself and the interrogator. One slash got through due to the type-weakness, but that was all. The man laughed a healthy, hearty laugh at Abe's attempt. The bug-type was easily subdued by a series of swift and punishing mental and physical attacks. It could not keep up with the confusion imparted upon it, the blindingly quick substitutions, and the swinging, open palms. The scyther fell against a wall while a chansey came in to patch up the stoic mime's bleeding arm, toss a contemptuous glare at Abe, and leave again.

"All right, bud. We'll do this the hard way." Abe suddenly felt himself paralyzed as the mime turned its gaze to him. He couldn't move - a numbing sensation encased his whole body in a warm, fuzzy feeling, and the feeling was only intensified when the militant questioner began squeezing down on the nerve bundle and blood vessels in his neck. "It was a nice speech, anyway. But blasphemy simply doesn't pay." Still held in that paralytic gaze, Abe's world was thrown into darkness.

A few hours later, shortly before Elian was to awake, he came to, standing up in a small, two feet-square cell, with a window too high above him to reach, although it seemed like he could probably crawl through it if he could get to it. His head was pounding; they must have injected him with something. "Hello!" came a familiar, cheerful voice from an earbud set at a volume far too high for comfort. "This will be fun. For me. For both of us, if you're into that kind of thing. You have both your pokémon with you." Abe confirmed this was true - both pokéballs were in his pocket. "If you let out your scyther, its blades will likely cut you in places you don't want to be cut. If you let out the porygon2, we'll start recording so we can figure out what is up with that bugger.

"More importantly, I have access to ice-cold water. This is the game: for every minute you don't give up information on the porygon2, I pour more water in your cell. If you don't cooperate, your body will slowly shut down, you'll pass out, and we'll play again. Ready? Go!"

With no more warning than that, a freezing flow of water began falling out of the small window. In the darkness of the tiny room, Abe couldn't see it begin to pool around his feet, but he could definitely feel it. The question was for how long he would be able to feel it.

---

Elian shortly heard the psychic voice of David reach her, though he was not in the room. "Oracle. Are you clothed? May we enter? It is I, David, and Solomon. Our leader wishes to speak with you - he is in his study."

Once she had confirmed she was decent, the two kadabras entered through the door, bowed and tapped their foreheads in obeisance, and approached her, Solomon with some concern. Now, they were bedecked in less militant wear, and both had on decorated tunics and carried, rather than the spoons common to their kind, brass rods, like maces, with simple decorations on them. "Oracle, did you not sleep well? Forgive my impudence, but I can feel a measure of your discomfiture. Our species is particularly inclined to the interpretation of dreams, if I may be so bold as to suggest that an unpleasant one perhaps disturbed your slumber, and offer my aid. Please, feel free to lift your thoughts to the forefront of your mind so that we may hear them, if you do not wish to verbalize them."

David took up the thread. "Oracle, our leader is a patient man; if you would like to take time on your own, we will leave you to yourself for time enough to make yourself ready. Please, forgive our intrusion." They returned their eyes to her feet, in case she asked them to leave.

((Okay, I think I got everyone. Lemme know if that's actually not true. Later realized - holy crud long post is long. Maybe I should wait until unholy hours of the morning to do this more often... j/k; please no one mother me to death ^^"))

The shift of grip was not lost on Paul. The woman was nervous. She must be the leader, as she had done the speaking, and she was keeping things under control. They had obeyed her commands. So unless it was a masquerade (not unheard of but not common) Paul was pretty clear on who to take down first if and when the time came. The less ammo he used, though, the better. He didn't want to get involved in a firefight.

His attention shifted to the meganium. It was moving forward towards Zoidberg, very clearly intent on taking him down. "Zoidberg, how are you feeling?"



"Think you can take this thing down the rest of the way on your own?"



"Well then, let's see if we can't get a little more creative." This would require some thought, and Paul was short on time for thinking. It was clear, though, that the creature was hurting... and that it still needed eyes to see. "Zoidberg, see if you can take out its eyes. There's no way you're going to be able to just shatter an ether shield under current circumstances, so perhaps you ought to be making a diversion. We could just drop Oddjob on top and try to claw away... no, we've endangered the small ones enough. We need to set a trap. Think you can make this motorcycle explode?"



"Alright then. Consider that possibility, although I'd prefer not to. Let's see... could you possibly... teleport a tree?"



"No good then. Well... at the very least, heckle it a little." Zoidberg complied, firing light bursts of air into the meganium's eyes, hoping to at least temporarily blind it.

Gerard nodded and quickly explained to his mother (and family in general, who were about) what had happened. He showed them that he had already used his Pokeball, mentioning the poliwag within, and his older sister immediately took the ball and left the room. Gerard let her go.

Then he looked around the shop. Thinking of Jacob on the roof, he requested a gun of his own; his father trotted into the back room to find him a firearm.

His next need was another Potion; having used one already, he wanted the extra insurance of a second. His younger sister, though confused as to what was happening, dashed off to find him one.

When it was just Gerard and his mother, she motioned him over and he stepped up to the counter. She presented him with a paper-wrapped bundle, saying, "We were saving this for your birthday, but you need it now more than ever." He took it solemnly and nodded his thanks, knowing straight away that it was a Technical Machine that his parents had found one day.

His family returned. Gerard's father handed his only son a 9mm handgun and a box and a half of ammo. His older sister returned with the assurance that Gerard's poliwag was healed, just as his younger sister came bouncing back with a Potion for him. Gerard stood with his hands full of the items, including the TM that must have been worth more than anything else, feeling the love.

He inquired as to whether they needed Jacob Thatcher more than he did. If so, he would leave straight away.

((I apologize for the lack of posting. Life has sucked. That's...really all I'll say on that matter.))

Andrej sat behind the wheel of his car, pondering quietly to himself as they shot along the road. The top was down on the BMW and the wind was whipping around them. Somewhere to their north was a young girl that needed their help. Specifically, she needed the USB drive that hung on Andrej's neck along the small gold locket. His limited attempts at accessing said drive had been met with nothing but failure. The first time, the drive simply hadn't opened after being hit with lines of code. The second time, it shut down his computer entirely. From that point on, any time that the drive was inserted into his computer, the entire system would die. "I will find out what you were up to, Beatrice," he thought with a quiet laugh to himself.

As his car shot across the bridge, he took a moment to look around and smile. The weather was clear. Nearly immaculate, to tell the truth. Something seemed entirely too nice about it all, but it was a passing concern. It was simply too nice to be concerned about something as trivial as the weather.

From behind, he felt a head covered in stiff quills nudge his shoulder. Grinning, he raised his right hand and scratched at Vuk's broad head. The Jolteon's tail swished loudly against the back seat, but was shortly stopped. Chancing a glance back, Kolega had shifted and now had his foot firmly on Vuk's tail to keep it from moving. The look of exasperation on the young Tyrogue's face made him laugh out loud and he stopped petting Vuk. "Alright, Kolega. I get it. His tail is in your space." Shaking his head slowly, the old man looked back forward.

As his eyes returned to the road, the cane laying in his back seat suddenly caught his eye. The smile on his face faded and his gaze hardened, narrowing down onto the road. The first time that his home had been attacked a few months prior, he had been able to get away with a slight injury, only needing to pick up the cane from time to time to aid his injured leg. Even just hours before, though, raiders had attacked again. The remainder of his house had been leveled. Lost within were some of the few worldly possessions he had left, but it wasn't much. Some clothing, a few books, a few knicknacks from years past. Nothing that meant anything to him anymore. Nothing, save a wooden chest that he had kept on his dresser. He had good intention to take revenge on whoever was responsible, but that had a time of its own. He had to prioritize.

It wasn't until their car cleared the bridge that Andrej was able to draw his focus back to the present world. His eyes moved over to Rikes and he smiled. "How are you holding up, my boy?" The faint smile on his face lifted his neatly trimmed beard, but only for a moment. Completely oblivious to what the boy might have been saying in response, he spotted a trio of pokemon thundering their way. The sound of heavy hoofbeats was unmistakable, too. "Thomas, whatever happens, you must remain safe." The words were nondescript, seemingly without context until the boy spotted the approaching figures. He knew that, in a pinch, those pokemon could outrun his car. With a heavy sigh, he brought it to a stop and rose to his feet, exiting the car.

The man was certainly large as he approached. He sat tall on the Rapidash, and Andrej's eyes narrowed as he sized up the pokemon. They were all of relatively good health, none suffering from the standard sorts of illnesses that afflicted so many pokemon in these times. Once the man was within earshot, Andrej paced toward him, creating space behind him and the car. Vuk and Kolega vaulted over the side of the car nearly simultaneously, coming to stand beside him as Ptica flapped down out of the sky, perching on the side of the car lightly. "Hello, stranger," he called toward the man, settling into a comfortable stance. "Can we help you?" His heart was churning within his chest, and it was everything that he could do to keep his hands from twitching. If this man had ill intent in his heart, it would have been one of the first serious fights that Andrej or any of his pokemon had seen in recent time.

(Doing what little I can here without the Admiral Squish...)

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he turned to the sound of an explosion. In the air, he could clearly discern his roof- in two pieces- flipping end over in end in opposite directions. He let out a small gasp and a look of surprise. He had been expecting an interesting adventure and even the possibility that he would never return, but for some reason he had always assumed his home would go untouched. But as they say, to assume makes an a** out of 'u' and 'me.' Terrian arrived then to give his spiel, but Ulysses was hardly paying attention. It was gone.

Very little could faze Dr. Shonevsky, but watching the home which he had built with his own bare hands gave him something of a quake. Gloria pressed her head to his side, and he habitually began stroking her, eyes still stuck on the plume of smoke.

This really was going to be an adventure for the ages.