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Before the Cataclysm, it was recognized that vehicles, especially when combined with alcohol, were far more dangerous than guns. As the true destructive nature of such devices had gone unnoticed by Lexi, who focused on the greater freedom and speed they gave her, the girl had unknowingly become reasonably adept with a weapon. It wasn’t her fault Woodmount had forgotten the past. Now, with both her jeep and a second, unknown vehicle with a gun turret running wildly around the field after the creeps, the destructive potential Lexi held under her foot and in her hands finally got recognized for what it was. She promptly let Tsuki know this, screaming “No you genius! Get back in the truck!” The last thing she needed was another body to avoid when her plan was to pack up her side and split on the double. It was even worse to have people on the ground now that there was a second truck running around. She didn’t recognize the vehicle, but once she calmed down enough from its surprise appearance, she realized it was on her side, or at least against the ambushing gunmen, which, as far as she was concerned, put it on her side until further notice. She drove by Tavish, who had gotten Trouble to dump a screen for her (“Thanks!”), and was glad when he got in, though she wasn’t sure she liked the cracking sound she heard. The older man then began issuing orders to her:

“Draeve. Follow that crazy b*****d over there. Wait, nae. Grab da kid first.”

Two pieces of very good advice that Lexi had every intention of following before Tavish had even said a word. She made another pass by the other teen, hoping he had heard her and would jump in. Then when he was safely onboard, she floored it after their savior with the golem, glaring as if that would cut down on the haze.

((Those hailing from Woodmount: please be more careful in the future. That is all.))

There was really only one word that properly described the chaos that emerged from the various clouds of smog, dust, quills, and water vapor suddenly enveloping the situation nearest Woodmount. It is a compound word that rhymes with "mustard duck" and does not bear repeating in this portion of the narrative.

The children hopped off Trouble's back and managed to sneak their way past the otherwise-engaged sandslashes, though the one providing cover fire for the one burrowing underground caught them out of the corner of his eye and began gallumphing towards them at roughly the same time they managed to get into the Jeep. The poison quills, apparently unnoticed by Tavish's duo, exploded into their exposed fronts, turning their heads into lightly-used pincushions that stung with an injection of insidious toxin that would not easily leave. Their combined efforts did shroud a fifteen-foot radius in heavy fog, though, just as the young'ns left it. Lexi hot-wired the vehicle successfully (-1 AP) and managed to swing it around to avoid the creature barreling towards them... but realized that they were not nearly far enough away to have managed to get out of its way. No, what had saved them was the heavy, rapid-fire thuds of machine gun fire that sent the creature into a shrieking, angry sprawl before curling up into a defensive ball. A few errant bullets from the poorly-controlled spray knocked into Deadeye and Trouble, but they were glancing blows. The porcupine's brother in brawl dug with the unnatural swiftness lent it by its familiarity with the earth towards the Jeep it had realized was beginning to move. This was the primary target. Both creatures had been primed to capture the children, and that was exactly what the sandslash planned.

Tsuki dove into the path of psychic hammers. Were it not for the laudable accuracy of these hammers, he would have lost a large section of his face, but the fact that his target was being pummeled meant that his tackle threw him hard off-balance, though it didn't hurt him more than to bruise him upon landing half-underneath the quickly-deceased Rory (-2 AP). Thanks to the awesemnity immutable offered by Mikhail's colorful entrance (+2 AP), Bill also fell quickly to the flying hammers. Only one had managed to get a shot off in the maelstrom and both lay covered in blood and staring on the ground as the wounded pokémon retreated to Tavish's pokéballs. Tavish suffered a heavy hit to his shoulder when he dove into the path of the Jeep and a shotgun slug while still carrying his omanyte, but was otherwise unharmed (-2 AP). Tsuki would have time to climb back in, but the rear end of the truck suddenly fell into the earth and found its rear wheels without traction while an enraged sandslash gripped its bumper, keeping it as precariously off-balance as it had been when the trio first encountered it.

The two human assailants were dead with mutilated backs, and one of the sandslashes was tucked into a defensive, clearly displeased ball of spines that flared outwards and dared anyone to approach. The other held with grim determination to its prize and snorted, uncertain of how to proceed. Eventually, it started rocking the vehicle like a seesaw. A heavy, well-timed and well-angled thrust of its claws could flip the car like a pancake.

---

The onix Juno yelled at looked at her with a kind of irritated, resigned bemusement, if such a complex emotion could be wrought of stone. It lowered its head, understanding it was defeated and not willing to argue with anything at the moment (± 0 AP). With a rumble, it made as though it had submitted to her, the shifting of its rocks grudging at best.

Ian, having arrived relatively late to the unfolding story line, had also made a pretty epic entrance (+1 AP).

---

Synapse shouted out his warcry again and sent a bolt of lightning lancing towards the still-prone gengar. After it struck, with a playful, almost theatrical wave of his paw, he directed the bolt in an arc back over his head and sent it a re-energizing surge of electricity to plow it into the other ghost pokémon.

Alex nodded approvingly. "Come, come, this is taking too long; I'm getting bored!" The raichu nodded back in understanding, then sat down with a sigh. It took a very short time to realize the sky was darkening while he sat there; stormclouds were forming in the sky above. There was an odd, almost harmonious, metallic ringing that sounded from off in the distance, too, though... It was reminiscent of the sound Roger had released, if not quite the same. Terrian ignored it. "What do you want, Smiffy?" Terrian asked the blob staring at him. He sounded completely natural, asking.

This was, naturally, not something Sequoyah had expected to see as he biked his way from Cliffshire. The young man had been told with no uncertainty that he was to take a motorcycle towards Glenville to meet with these strange professors. Though his agent had made brave efforts to parley with Rufus Oak, there was simply no doing that, and Oak had a way of making it clear that when it came to matters of this level of urgency, compliance was the only option. The town had grumbled about even giving Sequoyah the motorcycle and provisions to take, so there was no choice of the agent coming with him; besides, the very idea of an agent in these days seemed preposterous and opulent to most of the townsfolk, who were still trying very hard to understand how all their prisoners had escaped. So Sequoyah was alone when he came upon the group he'd been warned to meet: a woman with a magnet, two men with ghosts, and a younger man. They seemed to be engaged against a dark-haired man in an unforgettable, sable hat, specifically by means of their pokémon against a red-orange rat who was sitting complacently between the other two combatants and, for all intents and purposes, summoning the peals of thunder that had begun issuing from the sky. Two hundred feet away, he pulled to a halt to make sure these were right. The faces had the odd, oil-on-glass effect on his consciousness they always had, but the general appearance was unmistakeable; these were his target party, to be joined on their own way to Glenville.

---

The man lying in the dirt as Paul and Alyssa chatted, dizzily attempting to keep some semblance of dignity while his adrenaline swiftly diffused from his bloodstream, introduced himself somewhat drunkenly as Benji, and with fingers more competent than his state should have allowed, removed his helmet and slipped out the pokéball that had resided tucked up under it. His hair was medium length, blond, and unkempt, and his features clearly bore only the lines placed there by constant stress; they had once been very clear and fair. "Here, this guy won't hurt you..." he mumbled. Without seeming to even think, he released the pokémon inside: a bumbling ledian. The creature, its eyes more angular than most of its kind, cooly and competently made a series of submissive, placating gestures around at the obviously tense individuals in the vicinity before swiftly taking the matter of splint-making into its own hands, needing little, if any, help from Paul or Benji, the latter of whom had fallen asleep, despite his better judgment. It was clear the ledian intended to care for its master, but made no threatening gestures, merely delivering soft, calculating glances to those who ventured closer as it worked.

The hair on Sequoyah's body began to stand on edge, informing his instincts that a storm was brewing and electricity was in the air. He spotted his rendezvous group in an epic clash of fates, a lightning conjuring sorcerer spouting electrified ether like a fountain. The young native found the scene more curious than alarming at first, though he knew the dangers of such a situation. He calmly took in the scene, observing optimal points of protection from the inclement weather, how far away they were, and how quickly he could get to them. Once he'd quickly ascertained multiple ways to escape the situation, he deliberated on how to progress from here socially. First impressions in social situations were not his strong point.

First impressions on the stage, however...

He revved his engine and drove the handful of yards to the battle. His hand flicked, his fingers snapped...
And instantaneously, a cloud of multicolored smoke exploded around his bike and swept over the battlefield. The lightning bolts refracted through the haze, causing it to shimmer gloriously. The wind of the storm quickly swept the fog away, however, revealing the blurry silhouette of Sequoyah's motorcycle.
However, its driver was naught to be seen.
"How did he do it?" shouted young Sequoyah's voice. "You blink and you miss it!"
The voice came from the young boy, who was now sitting in Ulysses's Jeep, which was nowhere around or near the trajectory of the bicycle.
The seventeen year old grinned and waved his hands about as he stepped from the jeep. "My name is Sequoyah, and I am the world's greatest illusionist. I heard someone here was bored. I would say I should put on a show, but it seems the show has already begun." He gestured towards the sky rather than towards the raichu. "It would be in our best interest to run, I say. Seek shelter. But I doubt that anyone will take the option."

He leveled a finger at Terrian with a grin on his face? "You. Hat man." The hand he pointed with flicked around and from seemingly nowhere a deck of playing cards appeared, spread between his fingers. "You said you were bored. Would you like to see a magic trick? Pick a card. Any card."

Djinn took the hit and recovered. It was evident by the keener slant in his eyes that the ghost was irate. He was being outplayed at every turn, and even a hyper beam hadn't been enough to slow the raichu. Something was not quite right with that.

Despite being at a clear disadvantage, this gengar was not one to surrender or back down. He got right back up and thrust himself into combat yet again. As was his nature, Djinn dove into a headlong rush- then hesitated, stopped mid-air. He knew this ability, and knew better than to get too close. Tactics had to be changed. He began flying a circle about Synapse, about twelve feet off the ground, and hurled shadow balls at irregular intervals. Djinn was prepared to break this cycle as soon as the raichu showed the slightest interest in him. He paid no heed to the newest human arrival.

Ulysses did, however. "Get away from here, young man. It's dangerous." And quite frankly, I'm not interested in having to fend for yet another child.

Stetson Schraeder watched with no shortage of amusement as Synapse summarily beat the dignity out of his opponents. His strike that sent Roger flying was a blessing, almost; sweet silence, and sweet relief from that terrible vibrating pain. The lightning bolt that Synapse fired at Djinn was a piece of pure efficiency, blasting a downed opponent to make sure they didn't rise again - and then Synapse even recycled the strike to hit Mist! Beautifully done.

Schraeder did not want Synapse to win. He wanted for his party to defeat Dr. Terrian and force the information they needed from him. But he could certainly appreciate a well-performed task, even if by an opponent.

He watched Djinn for a few seconds, gauging the effectiveness of his tactic. At the very least, it should be informative. The young man ignored Smiffy, however, as his attention was drawn away towards the newest arrival. Schraeder had heard his motorcycle approaching from far down the road, before those that had been enraptured by the fighting had noticed. He turned his head now, realizing that the motor sounds had stopped, and regarded the new arrival.

Ulysses spoke and Schraeder found himself smiling. Of course this guy won't leave. Twenty-to-one he's supposed to "join us" or something else. Ah man. And, sure enough, Schraeder's posit was validated by the boy himself, who claimed to have been sent to rendezvous with them.

That was it. Nothing made any sense anymore, not to Schraeder. He needed answers, and to get those answers they needed to get past Terrian and Synapse. The lack of usefulness that Schraeder had been feeling this entire time began to slowly creep up his throat, crushing his heart, to the point where he believed he might shriek out of pure frustration.

"GOD DAMN IT TERRIAN WOULD YOU PLEASE JUST STOP ******** AROUND?!" he was tempted to shout. He only barely managed to keep it in, by realizing that this would likely cost them the match. Instead, he turned to his allies and put on a veneer of icy disdain.

"Folks, don't you think you would be better served by performing team-based maneuvers? It seems as though Synapse is more than skilled enough to punch your cards when you come at him alone. Please, try to work together?" His tone said, I can't believe I have to explain this to you. Aren't you the adults?

Ulysses was all the more irascible; this new character jumping into the scene, Schraeder telling him things he ought to already know, and the seemingly indestructible Synapse. It was all becoming a bit much for him, but he spared none of them a second of his time. It was best for Dr. Shonevsky to shut out the yelling and raging and just focus on Djinn. There was little he could do to help, and even less he could do to convince the gengar to work with a team. That said, the ghost could dodge for only so long and once he was hit, he took the lightning roughly, crashing into the ground just a few meters from Ulysses.

"Djinn!" This got the purple ghost on his feet almost immediately, but it was evident the gengar was weary. "You've almost got it, don't let up. Look, Synapse is just as tired as you." Ulysses pointed at the raichu and the signs of fatigue were obvious. Man and ghost met each others' gaze again.

Djinn's thoughts could be summarized as such: Challenge Accepted. He embarked in a zig-zag pattern toward his target, approaching Synapse from behind and delivering an ice-flavored one-two combo. Thunder and health be damned, Djinn just wanted Synapse to fall, but a frozen raichu would also suffice.

The man...or at least, what Sequoyah hoped was a man judging from his clothing and body structure, continued his berating. Sequoyah understood he had angered the man in some way, but couldn't figure out how exactly.
"It was a simple trick, the knife wasn't going to hit the thing..." he tried to explain, but the explanation was falling on deaf ears, and he knew better than to fight a lost cause.
Of course, this was all somewhat sidelined by the fact that his own knife was hovering in front of his eye. That...that kind of made the young man nervous. He decided to pocket the bladed instrument before whatever sorcery this man before him was pulling decided to stab him.
He drowned out Terrians words, half listening, not really caring. Besides, his distraction had paid off. No, what was beyond importance...what went past anything going on at this moment was...
How did he do it?
Sequoyah felt that thrill emerge within him. A trick! A trick that couldn't be explained! Not at face value anyways. Sure, there were plenty of boring explanations, ether manipulation, radioactive mutation, psychic pokemon, and a list of other dull things, but what if it was illusion? He wanted to know! No wait! He didn't want to know! That would ruin the magic! He studied his blade intently. No hidden strings. This man...woman...whatever...the person was pointless, but the trick it THRILLED Sequoyah!
He must have looked odd to any onlookers, purposely tossing and twirling the knife around, especially close to his eyeball, eagerly inspecting for any explanation he could find.
Reality began to set in, however, as the battle began to come to a close. Seems like he had entered at a good time. Maybe there'd actually be a socially acceptable situation to get introductions from the other...people. Or monkeys. He couldn't entirely tell. His stomach sank as he realized he'd have to find a way to familiarize himself with these blurry faces. They won't wear the same clothes forever.