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 Posted: Sun Sep 13, 2009 6:01 pm
Temp CharactersThese are characters available for those who want to play a temporary role at some point, but don't want to get too heavily involved in the RP and for current players who want to double. The list will be updated sporadically. Please, please ask questions if this is confusing. Characters are available when their names and "demi-profiles" appear in ( green) and between black parentheses. Once they are up, those interested in submitting a profile have one-week intervals to do so. That is, I will announce when the character is available, and keep the players informed of how many people have submitted profiles for a particular character. Each time that number is incremented, I will inform you. I reserve the right to deny access to characters if no one submits an acceptable profile. Age, height, weight, and personality characteristics will be provided. Pokémon will also be predetermined. In this demi-profile I provide, I will include a particular goal. The profile that you will submit must revolve around that goal; that is, the profile will be a sample post for the character. All demi-profiles will listed below. The "winner" will receive as a reward half the AP of the "buy cost," in red. Buying a character means not having to submit a sample post, but also not receiving the reward AP. Once a temp is secured, I will send you any plot-dependent details. Players playing temp characters have increased opportunities for AP in addition to temp-only benefits.Taken or dead characters will have a strike through their names; available ones are in green. AvailableVivian Ross, highwaywoman - 20 AP-Mildly competent leader and tactician who recently lost her motorcycle gang. 5' 6", 193 lbs, 28 yrs old, brown eyes, long blonde hair. Heavy-set, but with a good amount of muscle behind it. Pokémon: Billabong the weepinbell and Shiv the farfetch'd. --Vivian was a softy all the way through middle school. She was big-boned and not a looker most days, so she was a target for bullies among the harder girls at her school; more than one razor found its way to her skirts between classes. She put on a smiling face, but wept at home, where her parents did their best to help her. When she moved along to high school, a friend who had come with her tried to tell her to be tougher. As a gift, the friend gave her a farfetch’d duckling to care for. As expected, she had to be tougher to the easily-irritated bird than she ever had been to anything, just to train it properly. In addition, the friend started planting ideas in her head for getting revenge and for toughening herself up. She eventually got tattoos and piercings and starting wearing leather. One day, a bully once again tore her skirts with a razor, and when she seemed like she was about to cry, she instead hauled out and backhanded the girl into the lockers. Shortly afterward, she took up kickboxing. By the time the Calamity struck, it was clear who Vivian Ross had become: someone not to be f***ed with. ---Write Vivian's hunt for the bellsprout that would later become Billabong. She decided she wanted it one day, and has gotten used to acting on her desires. Gary Froster, Woodmount guard deceased Harris Dart, gang leader deceased Benji Halloway, gang medic - 16 AP-Skilled medic, in search of family in Glenville. 5' 9", 158 lbs., 35 yrs old, bright blue eyes, short blond hair. Thin frame. Pokémon: Francis the ledian. --Benji has become an unwillingly hardened individual. He prizes the sanctity of life above all else, and cannot leave a wounded creature to die without doing his best to save it. So much death during and following the Calamity, though, has broken what would normally be a kind and gentle spirit and turned it into a shell of harsh words and angry condemnations of the war-spirited. As happens with most pokémon, Francis has taken on his partner's mien. The ledyan helps him in all his medical endeavors. Neither is well-equipped for physical confrontation, but both have learned to shirk fear in favor if iron-willed determination to aid the wounded. He is loyal to his family, despite having been forced to leave them to pursue his need to heal. ---Write the post at Benji's encounter with his sister in Glenville, after the Pack has attacked and begun to withdraw. She, like others, will be making short runs into the street to either gather the wounded or gun down Pack members. Richard Allbrite, Exterminant interrogator - 30 AP-Tough, hardened frame; martial prowess. 61 yrs old, 186 lbs, 5' 11", gray hair, wrinkled features, constant smile. Pokémon: David the kadabra, [access to legendary]. --Richard is a man for whom the concept of 'purpose' has very little meaning. He sees all life as a kind of mild amusement, the universe put there for his personal entertainment. For a short time, he was drawn into a sort of sense of religion, but it was more of a peripheral thing - there was no reason not to be religious. As a part of being exposed to the fervor of the Exterminant, though, it began to invade his psyche, and he began to really believe in their ideals. Once forced to leave, though, he is left with only a trace of that belief. The only times he has ever shared a part of himself with another being are with David, who, though not quite as apathetic as he, is nonetheless more devoted to living and surviving than to seeking out a purpose. The two are inseparable. Unresponsive to most stimuli except to alter the breadth of their smiles, the only time they show more than slight emotion is when one or the other is put in actual danger (as defined by them, naturally), at which point all of their normal emotive faculties burst at once. ---Write the post shortly after David and Richard have met; that is, thirty years ago. Richard is confronted at a bar by a group of gang members, the nose of whose leader he has just smashed with a beer glass. He is confident he can prevail in this encounter; David resides in a pokéball at his belt. Sarah Amlund, Exterminant bishop - 24 AP-Musically talented; extremely knowledgeable of pokémon habits and abilities. Short, red hair; scarred face; 5' 8"; 136 lbs, 38 yrs old. Pokémon: Dionys the chikorita; Athena the machoke. Some history--Sarah believes in self-determination, after many disappointments in life. She believes that it is the individual who determines the future, and nothing else. Dionys is seen as both a friend and a personal success, as is Athena. Dionys is admittedly more animalistic than Athena, who sees it as her job to protect Sarah. None of them see much reason to trust people for who they are, instead trusting what their natures would lead them to do; men somewhat more so than women. ---Write as Sarah is synthesizing the chemo-ethereal compound that will produce Dionys' monstrous growth abilities. At this point, she is still clinging to the beliefs of the Exterminant and is very near reaching Bishop status. Dionys has not yet been born, but Athena has been with her for over a decade. Alexandra Tourmaline, Exterminant assassin - 20 AP-Famished and frail, but possessed of uncommon abilities when on psychedelic drugs. Long, wild brown hair; 5' 7"; 102 lbs. Pokémon: Giddy the sentret. --Alexandra is not insane by nature. When on the drugs provided to her by the Exterminant or in the vicinity of them, she become mad; slowly at first, and then building until she is totally incapable of controlling her emotions. However, while on drugs, she is possessed of inhuman capabilities. While sober, she is a timid, painfully submissive girl who wants only to make amends with people she may have hurt while high. She currently harbors an extreme hatred for the Exterminant and Beati in particular, having realized she was being used and would likely be erased after she no longer was useful. Her relationship with her pokémon is that of a child and its pets; that is, they are more than pets, but definitely less than human. ---Write as Alexandria is experiencing her first encounter with the Exterminant's drugs (which are injected). She has both pokémon, but both are likely in their respective pokéballs. Willam McFadden, member of the Haven - 18 AP-A thin child with a trickster's capabilities and lithe frame. Short, black hair and shifty, brown eyes; 17 yrs old, 149 lbs, 5' 6". Pokémon: Thread the weedle and Wrench the Aipom. --Willam will do anything to survive. Anything. He lies, cheats, steals, and has on occasion murdered. He enjoys the thrill of theft, and of disruption. Order bothers him on a deep level; his uncle insisted until the day he died upon order and efficiency, often whipping Willam for not adjusting bed linens in just the right way, and still maintaining a self-righteous, puritanic attitude. ---Write as Willam has been caught by a mall security guard at age eleven for stealing food from a pretzel stand. He has Wrench, but not Thread. Marcus Tryst, bandito assassin of the Exterminant
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Posted: Sun Sep 13, 2009 6:02 pm
AwardsThis will include all things awarded, including temp characters, to recognize those who got them. Combustibles 101: SirBayer (p. 12) Pruning time: Isa-sama (p. 12) Shooting at ghosts: NativeForeigner (p. 16) Ramp everything: Jokerman-EXE (p. 1 cool Subtlety win: Shaula Al Nair (p. 20) Richard Allbrite: o-Angilis-o Epic dispatch: Caleidah (p. 24) "card games are serious business": SirBayer (p.27) Combustibles 201: Shaula Al Nair (p. 27) Alexandra Tourmaline: Isa-sama Socializing 101: Shaula Al Nair, Isa-sama, Jokerman-EXE (p. 34) "You don't give me flowers... anymore": Mr. Blackbird Lore (p. 34) Vivian Ross: Jokerman-EXE Pawn takes Bishop: Isa-sama (p. 3 cool Socializing 131: Enradus, Shaula Al Nair (p. 40) korokorokorokoro: Xitemo (p. 42) Talia Horsley: SirBayer Temp Characters' Accepted ProfilesRichard Allbriteo-Angilis-o Even through the frigid night of winter, a bustling bar appeared to still have its own sense of life. Every shivering individual that walked in seemed to visibly warm under the stale air of the pub, the constant clatter of glasses, music and conversation filling one's senses until one would drink it all away. For Richard Allbrite, it was not the freezing weather or warmth of the indoors that drew the man to the bar, rather, he simply wanted a drink.
Hell, he deserved one.
The young man, living in the prime of his life, seemed to contradict the warmth the bar offered. Even the haggard guests that sat cursing and drinking their lives away made a move to glance at the individual that entered. The man was odd, or at least, carried himself that way. Even with the slight smile curving at his lips, Richard held a strange sense of existence, yet the man was simply shrugged off as a stranger and left to his own devices, everyone was too drunk or too cold to care about what some strange kid was doing at a bar.
Even the bartender felt uneasy as he watched Richard approach. Without a word, the man sat down at a stool, leaning his weight forward to lay his elbows onto the counter. Rather than demanding a drink, Richard waited, his hands idly fidgeting out of boredom. Seeing this, the bartender glanced around, then, moved to the only man seemingly needing a drink. Clearing his throat, the man put down the glass he had been cleaning, and moved in front of his customer as Richard kept his stare cast evenly to his own hands.
"Can I get y-"
"One beer, please." Richard interrupted, as if impatient with how long the bartender took to acknowledge him. Raising an eyebrow, the bartender ignored the kid's seemingly pushy behavior and moved to get the drink, as if the man would rather not agitate whatever was sitting at his bar any further. Richard, who's smile still lingered, cast his gaze down to his belt as he looked to the pokeball. Releasing the device from his belt, Richard tossed the object up once, carefully casting his gaze around the bar as he did so. It appeared as if nearly everyone sober enough to pay attention, suddenly felt even more uneasy with Richard's presence. A quiet chuckle escaped the man's lips, knowing that he had gotten everyone's attention the second he walked into the bar, it was only even more fun to toy with that attention.
Richard then turned his gaze to the bartender, who returned with his drink. Raising a finger up to the man as he tried to walk away, Richard finally met eyes with the bartender, who simply froze in his step as he waited for whatever it was the boy wanted. Sliding his forefinger over the button of the pokeball, half of the bar visibly tensed as the ever familiar red beam of light emitted from the object. Only after a second passed, the light forming into a specific shape, did the pokemon appear at Richard's side.
"You want anything, David?"
The Kadabra, being the calculated pokemon that it was, took a moment to look at its surroundings, noticing the lingering stares and fidgeting behavior of some of the patrons. As if expecting such a thing, David pushed the stool beside Richard aside, then, allowed himself to float up to the bar's level, idly copying the leaning motion Richard had taken in the first place.
"Water..." The Pokemon requested, glancing over to Richard, seemingly irritated at something. Richard, his smile curving into a grin, looked back to the bartender as he leaned his head on his hand.
"One water, for my friend here."
The Bartender, eyebrow still raised, and whose gaze was now locked to the Pokemon, only glanced to Richard for a moment before nodding and moving to find another glass. David, who had looked to the Bartender as the man walked away, ignored Richard, who was now grinning at the Kadabra mischievously.
"...What?" The Kadabra finally asked as the pokemon looked over to Richard, who, raised his hands up with a chuckle.
"Nothing, you just look... Pissed."
"Hmph... I'm nothing of the sort... Although I couldn't help but notice you've already set the rest of the people in here in such a state."
Their silent conversation suddenly ended in laughter from Richard, which only looked even more odd to the people still staring at the pair. Even the laugh seemed fake, or forced, but the man was obviously in a mood to entertain himself. The pair looked to the bartender as he set the water down in front of the Kadabra, making the man freeze before releasing the glass and quickly moving to, thankfully, a new patron who had entered. With another amused chuckle, Richard picked up his own glass and took a drink, David only shaking his head before drinking from the provided glass of water.
Nearby, a group of men, perhaps around Richard's age, had been watching and growing increasingly irritated at his strange behavior; what was worse, was that now the man had a pokemon out of its pokeball, in a bar, as if asking for a fight! One of the men, the seemingly relaxed man of the bunch, nudged the man beside him, gesturing for him to move and make way as the man stood from his table. With another gesture, the man signaled the rest to follow, a small chorus of chuckles emitting from the group as they gathered around their leader, and started to approach Richard.
Surrounding the pair, the group made themselves comfortable in Richard's space, who, didn't even bother to cast a glance to any of them as he simply took another swig of his beer. The leader, who was now leaning close to Richard on the counter, grinned in a mocking fashion at the expression on Richard's face, which of course was a grin to match.
"Hey, you lookin' for trouble or somethin'?" The man asked quietly, only receiving silence in response as Richard took yet another hard drink, David also working well to ignore the ruffians on his end of the counter. Only after it was obvious the man would receive no answer, he waited until Richard had set his glass down to rip it from his hands, tossing the glass to the ground as the sound of the shattering mug drew the sudden attention of everyone in the bar. Richard, seemingly unaffected by the rather violent motion, only raised his gaze to the bartender and held up a finger.
"Beer, please." The man requested, which, only served to wipe the grin off the gang leader's face. He was obviously getting tired of being ignored, and reached down to grab Richard's shirt and lift him from his stool, getting the grinning man to his feet.
"What the hell is your problem, huh? Put that ugly-a** pokemon back into its cage, or we'll just have to send you both on your asses!"
David, his gaze locked to the leader the second Richard was even touched, almost moved from his floating stance until he noticed Richard's hand, which was gesturing for the pokemon to relax. With a groan, the pokemon simply looked back to his water, yet made a conscious effort to keep an eye on the leader.
"Bartender, a beer, please?" Richard requested again as he looked to the bartender, who, had stopped moving once the strange kid had been lifted from his seat. Once the man realized he had been spoken to again, he moved quickly to get another beer, and set it down rather gently on the counter, as if any quick movement would agitate the gang any more than they already were. Reaching into his back pocket, Richard dug out his wallet, tossing it in front of David, who, sighed heavily at the sight and glanced over to Richard.
"I'd rather you didn't..." The Kadabra warned, yet, only sighed once again as he received a grin in response.
"What the hell?" The leader muttered as he watched the entire scene with the beer unfold. Jerking on the man's shirt, Richard looked back to the gang leader, still grinning.
"Alright, we're takin' this outside. Leave that thing in here if you know what's good for it." The leader growled as he gestured to David, about to heave Richard forcefully out of the bar until he suddenly felt a crushing force on his hand. The man could only make a small, squeak like noise as joints started to pop and crack out of place, Richard's left hand pressing down forcefully in the correct places to get the man to let go.
The members of the gang soon left the Kadabra's side, moving to surround Richard, yet, stay away from him as they tried to figure out how to help their leader, who was now on his knees in obvious agony. Richard, holding up a finger, looked around to those that surrounded him, still grinning that same grin.
"I just want a drink." The man explained as he slowly reached his arm over, taking up the new glass of beer and taking a long drink. The gang leader, still feeling the crushing effect of Richard's hand, carefully moved his free hand to his back pocket. Hearing the familiar sound of a releasing knife, the Kadabra looked back to Richard, about to act until the man raised a finger from his glass, glancing back to David in another gesturing signal. Rolling his eyes, David opened Richard's wallet, pulling out the first twenty-dollar bill from the large collection of bills in his wallet. Pulling out the first one, the Kadabra looked up to the bartender, who was busy glancing between David's strange behavior and the inevitable murder of a man. Setting down the first twenty, Richard suddenly swung the glass mug down, smashing it in the man's face before releasing the thug's hand, letting him crumple to the ground and nurse his now broken nose. The man screamed and gurgled in agony, the other members of the gang suddenly cursing, while others pulled out their weapons. Although no guns were permitted, the man was certainly underarmed, as at least six knives were poised and ready to strike.
As one man moved his boss out of the circle, another man, behind Richard, lunged forward to strike.
"Son of a bi-!" The man yelled only so far before a hand was around his throat. In only half a second, Richard brought the man's head down on the counter in a forceful blow, that sent that member into a quick state of unconsciousness. While he was at it, Richard picked up the stool he had sat on, swinging the object around to smash against another attacker's torso, who then fell to the ground and coughed as the wind was literally knocked out of him. Looking to the dwindling numbers of gang members, Richard grinned wide and cracked his knuckles.
Meanwhile, David watched the bartender carefully. Once the glass had been smashed into the leader's face, the man moved to pull his phone from his pocket. Raising it to his ear once the authorities were dialed, the man frowned as the phone was literally snatched out of his hands, and into the Kadabra's grasp. Hitting the "end" button, the Kadabra idly placed the device on the table, the bartender nearly snatching it back before the Kadabra locked its glare to the man, making him freeze in his tracks. Raising his own finger, David pulled yet another bill out of the wallet as Richard used the stool as a weapon. David didn't stop there however, as the fight continuously broke out behind them, the pokemon continued to fish out bills of money.
"Things will just be easier this way..." The pokemon grumbled to the bartenders mind, seemingly ignoring the entire fight as he took a drink of his water, and continued to pull out the correct bills.
As another knife wielding thug lunged forward, Richard shifted his weight aside to let the knife fly right past him, his hands grasping the attacker's wrist as he twisted the man's arm around and tossed him to the ground, taking a chance to kick the knife away as it was dropped. He then shifted his weight once more, bringing his elbow back in a quick motion, as a second attacker moved forward, the knife barely sliding past the man's shirt. A sickening -CRACK- rang in the air from the impact, and the victim fell to the ground with a loud -thud-, leaving only one man standing. Shaking, the kid dropped his knife, holding up his hands as he slowly backed away, Richard only brushing his shirt and pants off as if he had just handled filth. With the last member fleeing from the bar, David finally looked back to the mess, his eyes running over the bodies and overall damage before looking back to the bartender. Once he had fished out five more bills, the Kadabra let himself float back onto his feet, moving over to Richard and idly handing the wallet back.
"You can never just walk away, can you?" David asked as he followed beside Richard, who, had wrestled a jacket off of the leader to throw around himself, finding the air to be just a bit nippy.
"What the hell kind of fun is that?" Richard responded out loud, leaving the frightened, frozen patrons of the bar to watch carefully as the man left, the entire place left in a deafening silence. Isa-sama PROPERTY OF ALEX TOURMALINE --------------- First off, this is a journal. Not a diary. A JOURNAL. Not that anyone would read this. But anway. I’m Alex Tourmaline. I’m a 13 years old girl. I found this while I was out and figured it might be nice to keep. God knows my folks couldn’t get me anything as nice as this. All the money Mom makes gets used by Dad for alcohol. And he repays her with bruises. And prostitutes. Topic change! Mom is so pretty. I don’t think Dad thinks so, but she really really is. I hope I get her looks when I’m older. Dad is really rugged. He doesn’t really take care of himself. I don’t know why he stays. He doesn’t pay attention to me or Mom. I guess he likes having people do everything for him. My teachers in school say I’m mature for my age. I don’t know about that, but I know that the other kids don’t like me for telling them the truth. That’s okay. If being left alone is all they’ll do when angry, then it’s better than what Dad would do if I got him angry. I’ve thought about telling my teachers, but then they might take me away from Mom. I’m never letting that happen. I love her. Kinda wish I had a friend though. I do, however, have a sentrent. His name is Giddy. I’ve had him since he was a tiny little fuzzball. He’s a good pokémon. Extremely cute too. I worry Dad will eat him while I’m at school. Sometimes we go hungry for days ‘cause Dad used up all the money saved for food. I’m glad Giddy is smart enough to stay with Mom while I’m away. Can’t wait till I’m 16. Then I can drop out of school. Maybe help Mom out with money. Dad’s here. Gotta go. -------------- Wow. Been a while hasn’t it? I’m almost 15. Lot of stuff has happened. None of it good. Mom’s dead. I ran away. I don’t know what happened with Dad, and I never want to find out. Dad did some bad stuff. I had to get away. I had to. If I had stayed, worse things would have happened. He…when mom died, he brought the whores to the house. I heard them at night. In the day. If I didn’t close my eyes while passing the living room, I’m pretty sure I’d have seen it as well as heard it. Needless to say I stayed out of the house. If you could call it a house. Dad didn’t take care of the house when Mom was there, and he certainly didn’t start when she passed away. It’s been shredded and it smells. Like sex and beer. I never want to go back there again. I wish Mom were still around. Maybe Dad wouldn’t have gotten as bad as he did. And maybe I wouldn’t be here. At least I still have Giddy. I took him to keep him from getting eaten by Dad. I end up sleeping in the gym at school. I didn’t want for things to end up like this. I didn’t mean to do this. I made some shady friends. Dunno if they’re really friends, but we hang out in any case. They knew things were tough for me and said they’d help me. They gave me stuff. Stuff to sell. Said I could make a lot of money. Why not? I need to eat. --------------- I got curious and tried it. I don’t know what it is exactly, but I still went ahead and tried it. I was afraid the needle would hurt my arm. Interestingly enough, it didn’t. I could almost hear my mom tell me not to do it. But I don’t care. I’m just so tired of feeling like this. It made me feel good. Mom, Dad, school. It all disappeared. I was happy. It was like a dream. I was soaring through the sky without ever leaving the ground. I wish I could stay that way forever. --------------- I like this stuff. It’s called heroine. I feel such a rush every time I inject. I have to wear long sleeves now since my arms look polka-dotted. Sometimes I wonder what happened to Dad. I wonder if he misses me. --------------- Dad found me. He hurt me. I need to leave. I need to get out of here. I don’t want to stay hurt. I hate him. I hate this. I need a dose. I can’t handle this. I can’t. --------------- Happy birthday to me. I’m 16. I’m no longer in school. After dad…found me, I had to get away. What kind of Dad tries to sell his own flesh and blood? I don’t know if he wanted to pimp me out or sell me to pay off some debts. I never want to see him again. I don’t know what I’d do, but it wouldn’t be good. I’ll celebrate today by shooting up all day. It’ll be a good day. --------------- I want my Mom. --------------- I’m now sweet 17. Oh wait, that was supposed to be for 16, wasn’t it? Don’t care, I’m 17 now. I found a new home. They’re called the Exterminant. They promised me food, shelter, and best of all, drugs. I need to do something for them for the drugs, but I don’t care, I’ll do it. I remember when I wasn’t able to get my hands on it…there was pain and seizures. I felt like I would die. I don’t want to go through that again. Never again. --------------- THE DRUGS FEEL GOOOD BUT KINDA WEIRD DON’T REMEMBERERER THEM FEELING LIKE THIS BEFORERE WERER THEY EVER LIIKE THIS?. --------------- They…they asked me to do something for them. Now that I’m off the high, I realize the severity of the task. They made me kill a man. In exchange, I got a friend. I can’t tell if it’s a bribe to keep me happy or way to absolve them of their guilt. Either way, it was to help me deal with my first kill. They gave him to me after the first job was finished. His name is Rex. He’s a houndour. He’s a good boy…Giddy likes him too. And now I can’t leave. If I do, they’ll send me to the authorities. I don’t want to go to jail. And the drugs. I can’t leave them. They make me happy. It’s not wrong to be happy, is it? --------------- 1.5 years of being their assassin. 1.5 years of their drugs. I’m rarely this sober. I have to write it down before I forget. I don’t like them. Their drugs are different. They make me different. They feel good, but then I cry from the memories of what I did while on them. I hate them now. And the nightmares are getting worse. The people I’ve killed…they haunt me. I can’t be around people anymore. The guilt is overwhelming. I suppose it helps that they tend to stay away from me as well. They fear me because I am an assassin. I wish I wasn’t. But I have to be in order to get food and shelter. And drugs. …I don’t want the drugs anymore… I used to believe in God. No. I still do. But I don’t think He believes in me. If He did, then why did He give me this life? Why this pain? Why this…addiction? Where were You my entire life? Where were You for my Mom? Where are You now? I know that Mom would hate what has happened to me. I know she’d hate my drug use. I’ve often thought about quitting for her. But it gets so hard. And I need them for the jobs. God…if You can hear me now…what should I do? I want to quit. I’ve wanted to for a while, but I can’t seem to bring myself to stop pushing the needle into my skin. Where do I go from here God? Tell me. --------------- THIS FEELS NICE THEY ASKED ME QUESTIONS THEY FOUND ABOUT YOU I DON’T WANNA LOSE YOU FEELS SOOOOOOOOOO GOOOOOOOOD --------------- Happy birthday to me. Seems I’m always sober on my birthday. I can’t tell if that’s God laughing at me or pitying me. I’m 19. I’ve done a lot of things I’m not proud of these past years. Looking back at my previous entries, I can’t believe how stupid I was. How stupid still I am. God has constantly kept me cornered and given me bad choices. No…I shouldn’t blame Him. People always have choices, and I can blame no one but myself for the choices I’ve made. In my defense, the choices were terrible. Lesser of two evils sort of choices. I know I can’t stay here. I need to get away from the drugs. From the jobs. I can’t keep doing this. I shouldn't be doing this anyway. --------------- I KILLED MAN BIG MAN MAN NOW DEAD MAN NOW RED I RHYHMED --------------- I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for what I’ve done. I wish I could make up to everyone I’ve hurt. To those I’ve….killed. I need a break. Maybe they’ll give me one if I ask. --------------- I GOT A DOSE – IT’S STRONG STRONGER THAN USUAUL NO FOOD FOR A FEW MINUTES OR HOURS OR DAYS GOT A JOB – KILL A GIRL DON’T WANNA BUT GOTTA I SAVE HER SAVE HER SOUL SAVE HER SOUL I NEED TO SAVE HER SOUL Jokerman-EXE The sun was still touching the horizon as the powerfully-built Vivian Ross put her foot within the treeline outside of Woodmount. The rookie bandit took a deep breath of the early morning air and looked around with an expression of interest. She had been told that capturing a wild Pokemon would be her entrance into the gang of highwaymen and robbers that she had been trying to get into for nearly a month now. The first of the new applicants to appear with a freshly-captured Pokemon would be inducted into the group - which meant that Vivian had left at sunrise the morning after receiving the news. She took what she wanted, no matter what the cost. Putting any fear and hesitation aside, Ross strode into the trees with her head held high. She made it nearly thirty feet into the thick trees and tall grass before she heard rustling to her right. Ross felt a familiar shiver run from the base of her neck to her spine, but she stifled it with an iron will. She wasn't a weakling anymore, she kept telling herself; and it was true. She wouldn't be pushed around anymore. She squared herself to the sound of the rustling and pulled out a Pokeball. "Come on, Shiv; let's do this thing." She released her fiery farfetch'd into the grass at her feet. The ornery bird glared at her before also turning to face the Pokemon that was approaching them. To her credit, Ross glared right back at Shiv, right up until he turned away. Several yards away, a rattata emerged from the grass, growling angrily at being disturbed. Ross was simultaneously relieved and enraged: she wasn't in danger, but at the same time, this wasn't worth catching and bringing back with her. She would instead dispose of it. She opened her mouth to order Shiv to destroy it, but...the bird had already taken the initiative to launch itself at the purple rat and begin pecking at its eyes and throat. Ross sighed - she'd have to discipline the farfetch'd again after this. Shiv flapped its wings to push the rattata back before it could sink its relatively large teeth into him; a prudent move, as the rattata tried to do just that. Taking advantage of its loss of balance, Shiv slammed it in the head with his leek, disorienting it long enough to throw sand into its eyes and knock it over with a flying slam. The farfetch'd then began pecking its throat until it stopped twitching. After several seconds, Shiv waddled back over to Ross with a quack. "Disgusting," she said, though she was secretly proud of her little Pokemon's guts and ability. They were the same, really. Shiv quacked in disinterest before turning to look into the trees again. Ross stepped over Shiv and continued into the trees, leaving the little brown duck to follow. They walked through the forest for another half hour before Ross realized they were going in circles. The Pokemon out here were clearly avoiding them, and the sun was moving steadily upwards. She had to hurry and catch something if she wanted to make it back first. Just as she was having this thought, however, she caught a flash of yellow and was surprised to find herself regarding a bellsprout. While not particularly rare in itself, it was rather uncommon in the Woodmount area; typically they were found about twenty miles further out. This would do. The bellsprout froze when it saw the pair, trying to blend in, but it had been seen. Before it could flee, Shiv kicked up a cloud of dust with his wings that caused it to curl in on itself and try to shield its eyes. Ross, not wasting a second to take what she wanted, strode over and kicked the bellsprout with her thick boot, knocking it to the ground. Before it could get up, Shiv landed on it, pinning it and slapping its head around with his wings. When it was thoroughly dazed, Ross flipped Shiv off of it with her foot and opened a Pokeball over it, sucking it into the red and white prison. The ball twitched for a few seconds, but Ross willed it to stay shut. And it did. After a few more minutes of wandering around, Ross found the path back out of the forest and made her way to the road. There were several of the high-ranked leaders of the gang waiting there, and she was about to smile as she saw this. Of course, that was before she realized that another one of the candidates, a shifty little man with a growlith, had emerged just ahead of her. He was walking over to the group and opening his mouth to speak when Ross took off at a run, charging straight at him. Before he could speak or do more than turn his head to see her, she slugged him in the jaw so hard that he was launched back to land on the ground. Ross stepped between him and the gang, panting angrily. "I'm Vivian Ross and I'm not letting anyone take this from me. I caught a bellsprout in there with my bare hands and my Shiv. I take what I want, and I want this. Anyone object?" No one did. SirBayer There was a brief scuffle amongst the bushes, a cry of “Run!” and then Leo burst past her. Talia turned on her heel and sprinted after him, dropping the stick she’d been idly twirling, trying to keep busy while he’d been off... doing whatever he’d been doing. Nothing good, evidently. “What did you -” she started, but stopped herself to focus on running from whatever was causing the rapid crescendo of rumbling earth. Whatever it was, it was big and it was angry, and Talia didn’t want to be under its feet. Her long hair, though carefully secured in pigtails, nonetheless snagged once or twice on branches, nearly stopping her. Fear propelled her through pain, though, and she managed to keep track of Leo’s mess of brown hair as it cut a path through the undergrowth in front of her. For a while, anyway. After about five seconds she tripped and he disappeared behind a tree. She recovered her footing and chased after him, but couldn’t locate him, and so she just kept pounding forward, the sound of heavy feet or hooves or something growing in her ears. “In here!” a voice called from her left, and her head twisted as though possessed to locate the sound. She skidded to a halt in front of a cave, then managed to turn and dive into the darkness before whatever it was went pounding past. As she came down, she was caught by an unseen pair of arms, which she quickly confirmed were Leo’s when they dragged her into a frightened hug. His chest was heaving, and she slowly massaged his back to calm him down. Though technically not a blood relative, Leo might as well have been; their relationship was one of siblings. At thirteen, though, he was easily spooked and easily found himself in frightening situations. Talia often found herself comforting him, as she was now. He quivered in fright until well after the noises had passed them. Talia was the youngest of four children; all her siblings were male, older, and rather tough. Since they had their strength to protect them, Talia had been forced to adopt alternate strategies when conflict arose. She could be a sweet little girl, a veritable angel, as needed, but her brothers had taught her to be tough enough to take hits and keep on going. She’s always wanted a younger brother, though, so she could show him the same kind of affection her brothers showed her. A friendly, if physically tough, variety. And so she was doing now. Leo was finally beginning to calm down, so she let him go and the two of them sat down. He released his charmander, creatively named Charmer, and she let her pikachu go, also creatively named Pita. Charmer was a strange one. His moods were predictable but variable. At times he cowered behind her, just as jumpy as Leo, but when things got dangerous he toughened up. Pita, on the other hand, was remarkably similar to Talia. If she wanted to be, she could be a little bundle of cuteness, but if there was a battle, she was prepared to give it everything. Outside it began to rain, which meant they weren’t going home just yet. That was alright, though. Talia’s parents were used to her disappearing occasionally, and they didn’t worry about it anymore, not too much. Talia suddenly found herself weighted by a sleeping Leo and a similarly exhausted Charmer. Pita, too, was looking weary. Talia supposed that meant it was time for all to rest, and with a final whispered, “goodnight,” she let herself fall asleep.
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Posted: Mon Sep 14, 2009 7:59 pm
“Oh God.”
“What?” Edward rushed over to his brother’s computer screen and immediately gasped at what he saw. “Impossible.”
“Improbable,” Sigmund corrected him half-heartedly, his mouth agape in wonder. “How did she…”
“No, no, you can’t do that. It’s impossible,” Edward insisted, but he was reading the data on the screen as easily as his brother. “She…”
Sigmund swallowed nervously and nodded. “Whom do we tell?” he whispered.
The question hung in the air of the laboratory. Around the two brothers was a room full of all manner of computing equipment. Graphic displays of programming environments, a schematic of Glenville, a grid of sixteen televisions screening security footage of the city, and nearly a dozen other feeds of various types made the room, with two people and their two pokémon, seem a hive of activity. The buzzing machine that was loudly cracking open and reprogramming pokéballs in the corner was one of the greater contributors. The xatu perched on the younger brother’s shoulder noted again that both men intentionally made sure that particular machine never entered their field of vision.
Sigmund’s older brother shook his head, waving the longish, brown hair there back and forth. His gray eyes were closed in thought. “I… I don’t know. Send it to my station; you work on the reconstruction codes; you know where to start. I’ll start feeding in the impulses and translating it all. Holy God, Mom…” he trailed off. He was still muttering as he walked the few steps back to his terminal and waited for the upload.
“What has she done?”
A few minutes later, both turned with gasps at the sound of a polite knock on the door. They looked at one another and started shutting down programs. A panel slid over the machine tampering with pokéballs as it ceased its incessant activity. After the whirring and humming had decrescendoed quite a bit, Ed cleared his throat and called, “Come on in.”
The handle turned and the door opened to reveal a haggard-looking Jacob Thatcher, with his arcanine sitting complacently behind him. Thatcher generally looked pretty haggard, though, so the brothers were not exactly surprised. Ed stood to meet him and shake his hand right as a psychic pulse from Charlesworth quickly extinguished the cigarette in the newcomer’s mouth. Thatcher felt an unspoken, beleaguered reminder: We’ve asked you not to smoke in here before.
Thatcher blinked a few times, then remembered why he was hearing voices in his head. Even his Bella couldn’t speak that clearly, but then again… these were pokémon scientists. Lord knew what they could do. He pulled out the cigarette and pocketed it with a broad, happy smile. “Sorry. Anyway, what’re y’all doin’ all cooped up in here? It’s great outside.”
Sigmund, who even at his age had a sort of childish admiration for Jacob’s toughness, grinned and said, “Need to keep up these pearly whites. Tans, I mean.” He indicated his pale skin. It had not seen the sun in quite some time.
Thatcher laughed appreciatively and cracked his knuckles in front of him, trying to walk into the room without banging the shotgun strapped to his back against the doorframe. “Fair enough. Thought I’d let you know, sentry’s fearow spotted the Pack. They’re comin’ in strong. Finally.” The happiness in the room vanished.
“God damn it,” Edmund sighed. His brother looked at him nervously and started washing his hands in his lap. It wasn’t like Ed to curse. “How much time do we have?”
Jacob shifted uncomfortably. He was also not used to any sort of foul language from the brothers. Hearing it meant something was seriously wrong. What had they been working on? “Four days, max. Maybe two for the faster ones. You know how they do.”
Ed nodded. It was customary for packs to be fairly elastic in nature; the rattata, birds, and dogs would come first, along with a few ponyta and the like. Along in the middle would be koffing and humans; bringing up the rear would be glooms, ariados, and some of the larger pokémon. If it had been planned, it would have been considered an excellent strategy; by the time the smaller attackers had been taken care of, the shock of having to kill human beings would start taking its toll on the defenders’ morale; worn down from the assault, they were often unprepared for the onslaught of gravellers, bears, and those men who had managed to find rocket launchers. Arguably, those lattermost were rare, but it had happened before.
This Pack was no different, except for its size. This had been a source of ever-growing fear for those who knew of its existence for the past several months. Rumor had reached Glenville of a tremendous Pack, composed of all sorts of different pokémon, well-equipped humans, and rabid mundane animals. It had not attacked them yet, but seemed to have been growing in number for quite some time, and it was only that time that separated Glenville from a deadly onslaught.
Ed sighed again, then rubbed his forehead tiredly. “We need more time to figure out…” he trailed off into an angry grunt.
“Figure out what?” Jacob asked, almost too quickly. “What’ve y’all been workin’ on in here? I know you’re doin’ us all kin’a good with all that stuff ya come up with, but no one knows what you’re up to besides that.” He ran a nervous hand through his short hair as both of them instantly stared him down, two pairs of granite eyes delivering a mountain of impenetrable stubbornness. Sig normally wouldn’t have challenged a query like that, but he and his brother shared a fierce loyalty to their mother’s work; it was not to be questioned.
“Don’t worry about it.” Ed didn’t look at Sigmund as he spoke. Their glares faded. “Sig, get me those names as soon as you can. We need to get in contact today. I’ll call Ulysses and Andrej, some of that crowd, and see what they’re up to these days. See if they’re still alive.” His face was flushed with frustration.
“Ed…”
“Names, Sigmund. Now. Thanks, Jacob. We’ll be ready,” he said by way of dismissal. The older gentleman nodded and backed out, closing the door quietly behind him. The older brother sat down heavily at his console and disconsolately scratched Grimstrip behind his ears as the ghost appeared through a computer screen. The haunter cackled merrily and started bringing displays back up, pointing and laughing at the defense systems that were spread in, out, and beyond the city. The laughter, malevolent though it sounded, was unavoidably contagious. Both Oaks started giggling with him, the tension broken.
“Ah, you’re right, Grim. We’ve survived this long.” Sig grinned happily, glad the room had some semblance of joy in it again. “This is just another roadblock; time to bring out the dynamite.”
“Literally,” Sig chuckled. They set to work.
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Posted: Sat Sep 19, 2009 8:42 am
I. "The only purpose for which power can be rightfully exercised over any member of a civilised community, against his will, is to prevent harm to others." -John Stuart Mill, on utilitarianism.
---------------
“We need to send them now; before the Pack gets here. No delays.”
“Three children, right?”
“Yeah; you got ‘em? And the keys?”
“Mm.” Sigmund handed his brother a list of names and locations. “Are the pokémon ready?”
Edward sighed as he perused the list. “Yeah. I can’t believe we’re sending out Mom’s experiments with a bunch of kids.”
“Well, we didn’t even know about them until yesterday.”
“True, but…” It was hard for him as a scientist to ignore an opportunity to study something as odd as these pokémon. They had unique abilities and properties, all of which had been documented, to some extent. Both brothers wanted more, though.
Sigmund stood and took the list back. “Explain to me again why they have to be children.”
“Children are small and expendable,” Edward said coldly, bitterly. “We give them beefed-up pokémon and a word of encouragement, and they’ll do anything. And they connect to new pokémon better. Also… the other reason.” He shrugged uncomfortably. “And the other, other reason.”
Sigmund looked down. “Right.” There was a moment of uncomfortable silence before Sig picked himself up and grabbed Charlesworth off his perch. “All right, then. I’ll go make the calls. Can you set up the defenses yourself?”
Ed smirked. “I designed the defenses, Sig. Get the kids out before they’re necessary.” He turned to his console as Ed left, sighing loudly. He didn’t like doing this – sending these kids out by themselves. But they couldn’t spare manpower… could they? They needed as many people in the city as possible, to be nurses, soldiers, and runners, all in one, at any time. But one of them was fifteen…
“Sig!” he called before his brother got too far. “If one of them wants an escort, send Randy Sheppy with them. We can’t spare him, but we need to give those kids’ parents some reassurance.” His brother confirmed he had heard and left. Grimstrip floated towards Ed through the walls. “Hey, Grim. Mind setting up the first line for me?” The purple thing cackled loudly and started tapping keys at Sig’s console. They’d give the Pack a reason to fear Glenville; that was for damn sure.
-----
“Gerard, honey? Give your sister the cash register for a bit. We have something to talk with you about.” Gerard perked his ears and looked up from the novel he was reading. There was relatively nobody in the store, and besides, it was more of a supply house now, anyway. His father hadn’t wanted to give into socialism, but had finally crumbled under threats of ostracism by the community. The cash register only held cash for the sake of nostalgia; it was now a record of what materials went in and out of the place. Gerard sighed. He had enjoyed actual monetary exchange. At least then, it had felt like he was getting somewhere, even if was sitting in this shop day in and day out.
“Yeah, Mom. Hold on.” He called over his little sister, and realized he hadn’t a clue where she was. Glancing sharply around the store, he suddenly saw her… climbing on one of the shelves near the pokéball display.
“Look at me!” she said gleefully as she reached the top, waving her arms in an almost sickeningly cute manner.
“You give me diabetes. Now get down from there and go man the ledger.” He stalked over to her and waited for her to climb down.
“I’m a girl! I can’t man anything!” She stuck her tongue out at him.
“I’m serious, you! We have customers who need to be marked off.”
She scowled. “They’re not customers. They’re free-loaders.”
Where had she learned that word? People were staring. “You talk to Dad too much,” he mumbled, then snatched at her, which of course knocked her with a squeal onto the hanging cutout of herself so that she was clinging to it as it swung back and forth, which was far too adorable for the patrons to remember her earlier comment. Gerard grabbed her and carried her over to the ledger and after cleaning up the mess of pokéballs, went smolderingly into the back room, where his parents were waiting, trying not to feel the laughter that was following him.
His parents didn’t even mention it. “The Oaks want us to meet them at nine in the morning tomorrow. Do you have any idea why?” His father sounded angry, but it was more of a confused kind of anger. His mother’s was more worried. The conversation that followed was not a short one. None of the three knew what awaited them come morning.
---
Talia Horsley was snapped out of a daydream by the sound of small, pounding feet and shallow breaths. “Talia! Talia, wake up!” shouted a young, tenor voice. It was Leo, sprinting up the stairs to the abandoned offices Talia had made into her hideaway. “Talia!”
“What? I’m awake, Leo, what is it?” she asked frantically as she jumped to her feet, worried he was hurt.
“Your parents want you. Said it’s really important.” He was huffing and puffing from the run, and bent over holding his knees to catch his breath.
She went to him and put a hand on his back with a smile and a laugh. “You didn’t have to sound so desperate; I thought one of the packs was attacking or something.” She stood back up and put her hands on her hips, then stretched and took a gander around the room. It was dark with the last of the evening’s rays of sun gently casting dim light through the window that was no longer there – she had conscripted Leo to help her undo it and take it out, so the wind could blow through freely. A moth-eaten office chair sat in one corner, along with a table that was almost intact and a few file cabinets. Papers shifted lazily whenever the air deigned they should, and the carpet was almost entirely gone in places, but Talia liked it here, especially when Leo came with her. They weren’t allowed out of the city like they had been when they were children, but they could still explore the many-storied building and have adventures that way.
In spite of all that, it was time to go see what her parents wanted. “Come on, Leo. Got your breath? Let’s go see what’s up.” By nine o’clock the next morning, it would be inescapably clear what was up.
---
“Juno! Git down here and eat this dinner I’ve got a phone call waitin’ for me but you just go right ahead and eat Lord knows you ain’t got enough meat on yo’ bones to last this winter I don’t know how on God’s green Earth you haven’t died of starvation yet girl and hello, this is Ms. Douglass, how can I help you this fine evening?” Juno was confused for a few moments by the sudden shift in her nanny’s tone until it registered that the young girl was no longer being addressed. She giggled a little at Nayana’s endless mode of speech before running down the stairs to see what the woman had crafted for a meal this time.
Despite the food shortage, Miss Douglass had somehow managed to maintain her rather extensive frame, or where she found the product to continue bleaching and conditioning her hair when most of the chemicals that could be converted into anything useful had already been salvaged. She had the longish face typical of Kenyan descent and the accent typical of Alabaman descent.
The girl who was setting upon home-cooked macaroni and cheese, potato salad, and honeyed ham (and wondering where on Earth it had all come from) was the oldest of ten children who lived under Miss Douglass’s care, and the only one who could call her Naya without getting an earful of loving, tender, heartfelt verbal castigation. She was eating early because if she didn’t now, she wouldn’t get a chance to before it was far too late to see without candles or flashlights; after this, it was her job to make sure her adoptive brothers and sisters finished their homework, ate, washed up, and went to bed.
Juno listened in while her nanny spoke. “Mm-hm. Mmmm-hm. Mmmmmmm-hm, why thank you. Mm… hm? Nine o’clock in the mornin’? I gotta be feedin’ them chillen breakfast and get they lazy little butts off to school. What kin’a… mm-hm! Well, Professor, we’ll be deah, but we will not be happy. Now you have yo’self a pleasant little evenin’, hear?” She slammed the phone down, which made Juno jump. “Girl, we got us a problem and it had best not be with you.” She sighed into her hands, put those hands on her hips, and stared down at the receiver as though it was going to give her answers she had already warned it not to hold back. “We goin’ on a little field trip tomorrow ‘stead a school. When you finish that, get your brothers and sisters and help me get ‘em in bed. My, my, my Gracious, me.” She walked off into her bedroom, shaking her head and muttering.
“Naya?” Juno queried softly. Not much made the woman abandon Juno in the middle of a meal.
“They’z Rocky Road in the freezer, hon.” And that was all she had to say on the subject.
---
“Someone on the phone for you, Lexi.” The girl sitting up in a tree, actively defying Woodmount’s restrictions on free time, continued surfing the web. It was surprising how many sites were still receiving updates. Oh, and dang, someone had figured out how to use zubat sonar to soundlessly light up flares… that was awesome...
“Alexis! I’m not asking you a second time.”
She sighed tiredly and closed her laptop. The connection was faster than ever, with so few people actually demanding access. It was a miracle she had any kind of connection – the network from the military bunker had never been shut off, and it was only a matter of time before something went seriously wrong. She herself had been double-checking the power sources since she discovered from where her signal was coming. She had tried to contact the other cities (after bypassing the filters and locks Woodmount’s “security personnel” had set up) and even places outside Woodmount, but no one seemed interested in trying to work with her; apparently, other cities that had gone military had caused tremendous problems when potential benefactors tried to integrate them.
“Who is it?” she asked. Who on Earth would be calling, anyway? No one cared about them out here. The only phone calls they had gotten so far had been to remind her sister to get to the kitchens.
“Some guy who calls himself Sigmund Oak. Now get your butt over here!”
Alexis’ eye bugged out. Oak? No way. That trio had published hundreds of… everything! The entire world got brighter. “I’m coming!” She scrambled to put her laptop away, tripped getting out of the tree, and ended up hanging upside-down by her foot on a low-hanging branch. Hair flung out below her, she called out, “I’m coming!” She snatched at her laptop case before even making sure she wouldn’t fall on her head, and in the motion, freed herself. “Whooaaaaa-oof!” It was not a long drop, and she didn’t really care – she picked herself up and jogged inside. As she took the receiver, she smoothed her hair and removed pieces of tree from it.
“He can’t see you over the phone Lexi,” her sister smirked. The girl blushed and turned away so she could say, “Hello?” The following conversation revealed that she was to meet someone who was living in a seemingly-abandoned cottage no more than a mile north of Woodmount. It was up to her to get out safely.
“Oh, and bring your laptop,” were the professor’s last words. “Your contact will have something that might interest you.”
---
Jacob had heard of kids in Woodmount who got to go out on the raids. A lot of the kids there had pokémon of their own from, like, age ten, and they fought each other and had ranks and the best ones got the best places to live and the best food and everyone loved them. And in Riverdale, they got to go to the mountains and see all the pokémon there so they could get water. And in Glenville! Jeez, in Glenville, they had everything!
But he was here, in this Podunk little town, too old to be a child and too young to have any kind of responsibility. He wanted to do something. He kicked a rock from the ruins of some house some idiot had burned down on the outskirts of town. Huh. “Town.” As if. He wanted to-
He heard a chuckle from the top of the burned wreckage he had been dolefully circling while his mother was off at a quilting bee and his father was sorting through the most recent loot from a raiding party. As he turned his head, he saw a humanoid figure with an unforgettable black hat vanish into thin air. “So, you want to be a master?” floated towards him from the nothingness.
That was… weird. “Hey. Kid,” another voice shot from behind him. Jacob whirled around and found himself staring at a very friendly-looking man, dressed all in black, but without a hat. This was not the same man as before. He could tell – that man had been a jerk. This man was kind, congenial… and had a belt of pokéballs strapped around his waist. Like one of the old trainers, before the Calamity. Could this be…?
The man smiled cheerfully, his thin face and frame somehow inviting by the brightness of his features. Maybe it was the wispy, gossamer, silvery hair that blew long and unkempt in the slight breeze. Maybe it was his deep, soulful eyes. Maybe it was the pokéball in his hand he seemed to be offering. “You want to be a hero?”
Jacob stuttered. “Y-yeah! Yeah, I wanna be a hero!” He reached for the pokéball, but the man snatched it away with a fatherly grin.
“Nah-ah-ah! Be here tomorrow at noon; I know you have free time to get away from these people. If you want to save the world, that is.” The kid nodded fervently. “Great! I’ll have a new bike for you, too. Don’t forget!” With that, the man turned around and walked off to the mountains of Cliffshire. Stunned, his face flushed with excitement, Jacob watched until the man vanished behind a tree and failed to reappear. Finally!
---
((Young-uns, since it's been a while since you first submitted, I ask that you remember that none of your characters have their pokémon, yet. They will receive them shortly after your respective first posts.))
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Posted: Sat Sep 19, 2009 10:10 am
Juno got herself some ice cream, but she didn't enjoy the taste as much as she usually did. She was curious about the phone call. Naya never lets me get out of school unless I was really sick. I wonder what was so important that it made HER of all people take me out of class? Ah well, she'd find out tomorrow morning. "Juno? Is it time to eat?" She turned around to see 7-yr.-old Jimmy staring up at her. "Yep, so why don't you get the others and I'll serve you?" As Jimmy scrambled to get the rest of their mismatched family, she let out a giggle. It seemed that their family kept growing. Which isn't always a good thing.
Juno was 15 - as the oldest, she had the most authority (under Naya of course). If that didn’t make the kids listen to her, then there was the fact that she had been with Naya the longest; she’d been 10 when her parents were murdered and found herself in Naya’s care. She was also pretty tall, coming to about 5'7". Dirty blond hair and warm brown eyes, she was generally a happy girl. If it hadn't been for Naya, she'd have been a very cynical person. It shouldn't have even been a possibility. Damn Cliffshire... If the town burned down with everyone stuck in it, she'd feel no sadness for them. Heh. They'd deserve it.
"We're here Juno! We can has food now?" Juno's dark thoughts were interrupted by the sight of 10 children. Sammy, a 6-yr-old girl, was tugging at Juno's jeans. "Yes, it's dinner time! Go sit down," she grinned. Thoughts of revenge and rage were pushed to the back of her mind - right now, she had to take care of her siblings. They depended on her. Dinner was a loud affair, just like every meal they ever had. After dinner, she cleaned the dishes (with help from the older kids), helped out with homework, made sure they brushed their teeth, and put them to bed. Juno was not at all sure how Naya could do this every single day. Now what made Naya keep away for dinner?
She went over to Naya's room. After knocking and gaining access, she walked over to Naya's bed, where Naya was sitting. "Everyone's in their beds, and yes, I made sure they brushed their teeth." "That's a good girl. Now you best be gettin’ to bed. We got a busy mornin’ tomorrow.” Naya looked frustrated – the phone call affected her more than Juno thought it had. Juno reached to hug Naya, “C’mon, Naya. Cheer up. You know I hate to see you down.” Naya returned the hug, “I know, child, I know. But I can’t help worrying ‘bout you kids.” Juno smiled, “I’m sure everything’s gonna be okay. Haven’t I told you before that you worry too much?” “Hush now. I worry ‘bout you all just the right amount.” Juno knew her mission was complete since Naya sounded a lot better. “Hun, you best be going to sleep now. Don’t blame me if you wake up cranky in the mornin’ ‘cause you stayed up late.” Juno rolled her eyes good naturedly and started walking off to her room (she shared with a few of the other girls). I hope tomorrow will be a good day. Lord knows when Naya’s mad, everyone suffers.
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Posted: Sat Sep 19, 2009 5:39 pm
Tomorrow at noon. The burnt house.
All of his thoughts revolved around the singular idea. Like a fly on a leash, his mind was buzzing circles around it. Going a thousand miles a minute and going nowhere, even as his sneakers sprayed pebbles behind him as he tore full-tilt down the dirt road.
I have to pack light if I want to get anywhere. I can't show up with two backpacks and a duffel bag, It'd be just too much to carry around. But if I need something and didn't pack it, then I'll be in a whole mess of trouble. Maybe I should bring somethign with pockets...
He thundered up the front steps of his house and threw open the screen door. His father looked up from the local paper just fast enough to see his son's trailing sneaker disappear up the staircase with a series of loud thumps as Jacob took the steps two, even three at a time.
I've gotta have clothes. Not many, though. They're a lot of space. And they have to be tough. Jeans probably would work. What about those cami cargo pants? And a couple belts. If I load up the pockets, I'll need one to keep them on.
He grabbed the banister-post and used it to swing his weight around the corner. His shoes squealed on wooden flooring as he pivoted, and very nearly ran into his mother. He jammed a foot forward and used the momentum to pivot, somewhat awkwardly, around her. Mrs. Vahzhiloks looked on in confusion as her boy dodged around her and into his room, not even pausing to say 'Hi'. She frowned as the door slammed. She would have to talk to him later.
So, assuming I can find the pup-tent in that cluttered shed, I still need something to eat with. Do we still have the camping gear? I know Mom and Dad were both into that outdoorsy stuff, but I think we might have lost track of it during the move. Nono, wait, I remember Dad talking about it a few weeks ago when he was trying to get the lawnmower. So, that's a yes. What else? ...
For the next hours, his room was chaos. Clothes strewn everywhere, bags on the bed with jeans half-dangling out, drawers he hadn't opened in months being turned inside-out for odds and ends that might be useful. Fifty feet of rock climbing rope (The leftovers from his dad's three-hundred-foot-length), a lighter and two refill packs (Some things just need a liberal application of fire), a money clip/pocket knife (A good knife has 1001 uses), His favorite jacket (Black, with a tuck-away hood that never really kept the water off, but it was comfy), and a backpack (with an expandable flap and four seperate pockets).
Finally, as he was deciding how many sets of clothes he'd need to bring, he fell asleep, exhausted, on his floor, with a stack of T-shirts for a pillow. The gleaming LEDs of his alarm clock said it was very nearly eleven by the time he snored fitfully on the wood floor.
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Posted: Sun Sep 20, 2009 12:48 am
Gerard lay in bed that night, anxiously awaiting the next day.
Of course, when one has something that they must sleep for, they can never manage to do it. Odd, how that happened. In an effort to distract himself, Gerard began to speculate on what tomorrow might bring.
The conversation that afternoon had been long indeed, but they had reached a few conclusions. Firstly, they had agreed that Gerard was probably not in trouble. He rarely did anything truly bad, and never anything that would affect the Oak brothers or their work. So that was out.
Secondly, they hoped that maybe it would be like the old days, and the pokemon professors would give him a new pokemon, for the purposes of study or something. Gerard tried not to think about it and failed; all that work distracting himself for nothing. He was wide awake again.
He rolled over onto his side. Nothing to do but sleep it out, apparently. He closed his eyes and began to hum himself to sleep.
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Posted: Sun Sep 20, 2009 1:59 pm
Lexi put the phone back on the hook and flopped against the kitchen wall, stunned. Professor. Sigmund. Oak. Called. Me. She couldn’t get the thought out of her head. It was awesome in so many ways, and even as she wondered how and why the professor in Glenville had found the name of some random teenager in a town hardly anyone liked, she was thinking of the address he had given her and the best way to get out there. Should I walk? Take the bike? It’s not far, but it’s out of town…what time is it?
“So…is this Sigmund guy hot?” Lexi’s sister couldn’t resist after watching her younger sibling's reactions from the call, and Lexi snorted a laugh before pushing herself off the wall.
“‘This Sigmund guy’ is one of the preeminent scientists in the world. He’s done a lot of work in ether physics, computer science, pokemon physiology… you name it, he’s probably knows everything about it.” She explained, but a glance at her sister showed that she wasn’t getting her point across. Remnants of the smirk were still visible on every inch of her sister’s attention-getting curves that were the advantage of being a good cook in these times. “And he’s more than twice my age even if I was interested, so quit giving me that look.”
The elder sister sighed “Oh well, I tried." She then laughed and headed off down the hall to get ready for her shift, yelling "Have a nice trip anyways!” behind her. As she passed the door to the backyard, it opened, revealing a dirty hand, then a ponytail of blonde hair going white above a tall, tan, muscular body.
Lexi’s dad turned and gave her a questioning look. “Huh, what trip? ...And what was the phone about? Christi’s not late yet…”
The girl's excitement spread throughout her body as she told her father what had happened. “You aren’t going to believe who called…Professor Sigmund Oak…from Glenville!”
Her father’s eyes matched her own, from the color to the stunned excitement. “…Wow…what did he want?”
Lexi jumped up to sit on one of the kitchen counters. “He wants me to meet up with someone who I guess is living at that place off of General Moore Street, just north of the gate.”
He grimaced, confused. “There? You sure?!”
She shrugged as the confusion spread to her, but was still smiling. She knew the place had been deserted for a while but…she really wanted to go and someone could have moved in there since they last looked. “Yeah…He didn’t say why…he just said go there and to bring my laptop because this guy has something that ‘might interest me.’”
Her dad frowned as he chewed on his lip in thought, but then the corners of his mouth turned up again and he moved to sit next to the girl. “Well, I assume you noticed how much this sounds like the start of a bad horror film, right? I mean, ‘meet a stranger in an abandoned house in the middle of nowhere?!’ It's the perfect plot base!” She chuckled, but then was forced to shrug again and put up an embarrassed look when she realized her dad was serious despite the joke. No, she really hadn’t thought about it, though he was right and she should have before deciding to go. A strong arm pulled Lexi closer to her dad as he chuckled. “Now that you have, and you still want to go…” He paused to look at her for conformation before pushing her off the counter. “Go, Shoo, satisfy your curiosity, find out why the heck they wanted you. Just promise me that working for your idol won’t make you an idiot-- think, then leap remember?” She smiled and nodded, meeting his stare eye to eye, before starting to run off. “…oh, and please take your bike so you can get back before dark. I don’t want to be stuck explaining why you broke cufew again.” The tone was exasperated, but the facial expression was excited. Lexi wasn't the only one curious.
Back before dark on the bike for a four-mile trip? Easy. She gave him a thumbs-up as she ran off to the garage. “Sure, I’ll do my best!”
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Posted: Sun Sep 20, 2009 3:40 pm
On the way out of town, Alexis's gaze brushed unconcerned by the warning signs posted around the area.
"CURFEW: 2000 HRS. VIOLATORS MAY BE EXILED!"
"CITY LIMITS: FURTHER TRAVEL EXPRESSLY PROHIBITED!"
"WANTED DEAD: PAUL MCCULLOCH - MURDER, THEFT, AND WITHHOLDING OF FIREARMS. CONSIDERED ARMED AND DANGEROUS. REWARD: ONE NEW-BORN CYNDAQUIL AND TWO WEEKS' RATIONS. BRING HIS HEAD."
As she turned off one of the main roads in the early evening light, she saw the abandoned cottage in the distance, and it was evident why it had been abandoned. Most of the porch was sagging to the ground, the entire, rather pathetic-looking place was made of rotting wood, and the apple tree in the front yard had dropped its fruit around it and let it spoil. It just looked like a bad place to be... She stopped her bike and leaned on one leg. Surely this was the wrong house.
The wind suddenly changed directions and start blowing at her from the house. She started to cover her nose, to block out the stench of decomposition, but then -
Wait. There was a scent, but it wasn't bad. It smelled like apples, but... apple pie? Alexis dismounted and walked a few steps toward it, until she was very nearly in the front yard. The house was set thirty yards or so from the road, and beyond it spread out farmland, some of which was blasted, but a lot of which Woodmount could use, and did use. Curious, she took one more cautious step.
The whole scene changed, as though a veil had been lifted off her eyes. The porch sprang up as though it was alive and appeared to be made of finely lacquered wood, with inviting rocking chairs that were creaking in the slight breeze. The grass was bright and lush, the apples were not fallen around the apple tree, but apparently contained in the steaming pie set at a windowsill on the front porch. And sitting next to her on the ground was a hypno, who appeared to be lost in meditation while its golden, troll-like body was covered in six pink eggs of varying stages of being cracked open. An exeggcute.
As soon as they saw her, all six started hopping up and down (by what mechanism, it was impossible to tell) in excitement and turned to the house. The polished wooden door on the porch creaked open and the wrinkled face of an old, confused woman peered suspiciously out. "What on Earth is that racket, Sixlet?" She saw Alexis. "Oh! Oh, you must be that young-un they sent out here to meet me." She waved her hand invitingly and smiled warmly. "Don't mind Sixlet and Janis - they're maintaining the illusion." As she disappeared inside the old home, she could be heard calling, "Francis? Francis, set another place at the table, would you?"
---
“Paul! Paul McCulloch! Sirrah! Where are you?” Paul McCulloch looked up from the early dinner he had been enjoying at the sound of someone shouting (rather joyously) at him from inside his own house. This was decidedly odd – he had video feeds from both the northwest and southeast faces of this house so he could anticipate raids from either city, and yet someone had gotten past them? Inconceivable.
He and his two pokémon had remained here, virtually unscathed, through the chaos following the Calamity. They had survived countless raiding parties, and even gained something of a name for themselves in Woodmount and Riverdale. In Woodmount, there was a bounty on his head (such as payment could exist in such a society) offering a newborn cyndaquil as incentive. But he was alive for good reason: weaponry practically lined the walls of his home. Grenades, shotguns, military-grade rifles, the occasional rocket launcher, proximity landmines – everything imaginable, and most of it stolen from those from Woodmount who thought they could take him down. Paul McCulloch’s home, at least from a military standpoint, was impenetrable.
And yet, the noise was coming from the top story. He glanced at Zoidberg, who had also been rather pleasantly enjoying a meal. With his spoons.
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Posted: Sun Sep 20, 2009 4:24 pm
Paul stood slowly. Zoidberg glanced up.
"No, just wait here a moment." Paul was already carrying all three of his handguns, a feat quite impressive. It might seem like overkill to carry such an absurd number of pistols, but despite the fact they were all short and were built for essentially the same thing, they each served a quite different purpose, largely due to caliber.
A pistol was not all Paul wanted right now, however. He approached a gun rack, debated momentarily, then dragged the G3A4A1 off the wall. It currently had the scope attached; with a simple movement, he pulled the device off the rail it held onto before replacing it with the tritium-illuminated reflex sight.
Paul paused for a moment, debating whether or not he needed to make himself particularly presentable. As it stood, he was wearing a pair of basketball shorts and a t-shirt, which served the simultaneously purposes of being comfortable and showing off his impressive amounts of hair. He wasn't shaved - his hair was no longer than his beard, but neither was much longer than stubble - and he was using glasses rather than contacts.
A fairly hefty, tall sort of gentleman in the first place (though by no means overweight or out of shape), Paul wondered if perhaps he ought to bother getting dressed. On the other hand, the intruder had cut him off from his bedroom, so Paul would have to fight his way into his own pants.
That was awkward.
Still bare-foot, Paul began ascending the stairs, making it clear to this intruder that he was armed with a simple motion. It consisted of reaching up just above the grip of the rifle to where the charging lever was, pulling back this handle, and releasing it so as to make the most noise possible in the process.
Ca-c***k.
The rifle fit into Paul's shoulder, then rose to in front of his face as he moved around the narrow stairs. In retrospect, a shotgun probably would have been a better idea, but the intimidation factor of this was was undeniable.
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Posted: Sun Sep 20, 2009 6:10 pm
Paul's intruder turned out to be a stunningly handsome young man in coal slacks, an onyx, designer tee shirt, and an unforgettable, jet, broad-rimmed hat with a red feather sticking out of the band. He saw the world out of bright, blue eyes underneath sable hair; you could say he was into darker colors, if you counted black as such. He had pale, white skin and an unmentionable build, and when he spoke, he seemed just barely north of the line of sanity, sans a stable compass rose.
"Ah! Mr. McCulloch," he said as he heard the slap of metal on metal. "My name is Dr. Terri- HOLY GOD ALMIGHTYINHEAVEN." He backed up, somewhat put off by the size of the gun that was staring at him, and for the briefest of instants, his entire body seemed to shift... almost as though it wasn't entirely solid. He glared at nothing particular as he regained his balance and steadied his hat.
He cleared his throat. "As I was saying, Mr. McCulloch. My name is Dr. Terrian, and you can't trust me. You can call me Raoul. Or Cindy. Or Shiva. You know, I've always kind of liked 'Galileo' as a name. Can't say why. I don't really care, much, but the important thing, here, is that soon, you're going to be called away on a mission. Or something. And I wanted to tell you a little bit about it. If you'll kindly put down the ironclad that is pointing my way, for a few moments."
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Posted: Sun Sep 20, 2009 6:20 pm
Paul glared through two sets of glass at about 'Dr. Terrian's' chest. The red dot seemed almost like a prediction - something Paul could bring into reality, if he chose. If this person was even real. The shift made Paul immediately question the veracity of the situation in which he stood, and it struck him he should express this.
"So you're apparently not quite a normal person, since I just saw that... unusual movement, we'll call it. So this might be a dream. But it might not be, and if it's not, I refuse to be caught with my pants down. You told me yourself you couldn't be trusted, so I'm not trusting you. If you think that's not fair, then I think you can leave.
"Oh, and - Zoidberg! Up and at it, now!" Paul called down the stairs. "We got an intruder alright, and he's a piece of work - need you to confirm his reality."
There was a shift of a chair being pushed out. The yellow-bodied alakazam shortly appeared below Paul in the stairs - Paul stood where the stairs turned in a U-shape.
"So. Go," Paul ordered.
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Posted: Sun Sep 20, 2009 6:44 pm
Zoidberg would find upon examination that Dr. Terrian was, in fact, real and was, in fact, actually standing in front of them. He was physical, tangible, etc., and he was not in the mood for resistance.
"That 'unusual movement,'" he growled, "was nothing to do with the question of my reality. I am real!" he barked suddenly, furiously. "I'm real!" he repeated, and then composed himself while an awkward silence hung in the air. "Anyway. I asked you to put the gun down because I'm a friendly person." He pointed at the weapon and smiled. "Put it down." Suddenly, the weight on Paul's shoulder increased tenfold as Terrian's finger tapped the air a few yards in front of it. "Down." The muzzle slowly lowered, the dot in Paul's sight sliding off Terrian's body as the incredible weight continued its exponential increase. "Doooowwnnnn..." he whispered, and the thing fell to the floor with a crash.
Terrian's features lit up with childish excitement. "Now! We can have a civilized conversation. I. Want you. To save children. From being eaten. Tomorrow. Maybe just one child." He crossed one leg over the other and sat down in the air with a finger on his chin. "Is it just one?" he asked himself. "Could be more. I'm not sure." He stood up. "Is that clear? Pack a healthy lunch - apples, carrots, PB&J, brandy, you know; just the essentials. Pack a dinner and a medical kit, too. Guns, knives, whatever. You'll need 'em." Terrian put a hand to his mouth and whispered, "and I'm sorry, but I can't tell you where you're going. You'll try to go early, and everything will be ruined."
He stood up straight again and sighed serenely. "Ahh. Any questions?"
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