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Overwhelmed by this revitalizing sensation, Ulysses fell back, the live blossoms still in hand. He grabbed the envelope and stood, but did not move again for some time. That feeling had been so powerful- no, not powerful; all-encompassing, enveloping, infinite. It had been sensual- a pure tactile gratification: in the end, he supposed, it was an unsoiled sensation of love. Shonevsky realized, then, coming back to his senses that he was smiling. Also, his hand clutching the two living roses was throbbing and bleeding. He winced on reflex- the pain was actually very dull as if the injury had occurred long ago.

The 'geezer' took this brief moment to ignore this most recent pain and enjoy the suppleness and softness that graced his body once more; his knees bent smoothly, his arms rotated fully without a creak or strain, and his back was... well it felt like jelly, finally free of all the tension the decades had built up. It felt good, like being... being young again.

Ulysses hesitated to open the letter that had obviously been intended for discovering because of one question in his mind: Who was meant to read it? By Ether, if my name is in here... He wasn't quite sure what he would do in that scenario, but it was a frightening thought. Beatrice Oak had been an awe-inspiring well of intellect, but for her to foresee this series of events would be...

Ridiculous. The old Doctor moved away from the topic- physically and mentally- by striding to the door and pushing it in gently; he feared it might be too frail to stay on its hinges.

Regardless of the result he stepped inside and beckoned Gloria to follow. Ulysses didn't go far, just out of view for any possibly passersby so that he could open and read the letter in the peace and comfort of an old but faintly familiar living room.

"Don't let me forget to check the other pot," Ulysses said to the ninetales as he pulled the piece of paper free of its envelope.

All the while, he never let go of that pair of red blooms.

As soon as the unown emerged, Ulysses backpedaled two paces. The projection was rather entrancing... to see Beatrice "alive" again.

He listened raptly, but in the end gleaned very little from it. Use the facilities if you please. After glancing around, he knew none of them would be both fully functioning and clean enough to facilitate. There's more than one message. He'd have to keep an eye out for more of them. Trust Terrian. He already knew that. The rest was unclear. Something about Terrian, the world, and this "mess." He guessed she was emphasizing the teleporting madman's importance to them all.

Then he read the letter and a wry smile spread across his face. If the speculations authored therein were accurate, Shonevsky couldn't help but feel chagrin at the irony of such a gentle creature being left behind for such a... heavy task.

He tucked the letter back in its envelope, the unown not even crossing his mind. Out on the porch again, he checked the second pot of flowers which had already begun to wilt; he found nothing and had expected as much. His final piece of business was tucking the two surviving roses into the chest pocket of his jacket, blossoms facing the world in front of him. Then he knelt and stroked Gloria's mane; she simply gazed at him, a calm and warm stare to the man who had come to understand the little nuances of the ninetales' expressions. He smiled back.

"I'll race you." She seemed to light up at that, and offered a small nod of agreement. Ulysses stood, stretched, and took off at a good run- especially impressive for a man his age. Gloria had no problems with keeping pace, nor did she try to surpass him. It was good enough for the fox-pokémon to see him happy.

The grin he had on his face was irrepressible, and did not disappear until after they'd come to rest at the Oaks' Labs once more.

Gabrielle falls backwards, clutching his belly in a fit of laughter. He doesn't really know why he snatched the pokeball, only that it seemed like it would be funny, and from the expression on the girl's face, it worked like a charm.

"How'd you do steal my pokeball?" the girl asks, considerably calmer than she was a second ago.

The second girl walks up, her pet leading the way. ”Dude, did you really have to freak her out like that?" At this, Gabrielle's bubbling laughter dies down, though he's still grinning. "As cool as that was, touching other people’s stuff usually isn’t a good thing to do.”

Gabrielle's smile slowly turns into a thoughtful frown, and he stares at the face of the woman he took the pokeball from. He abruptly stands up, ramrod straight. He looks slightly embarrassed, like a child caught doing some minor wrong. Looking a few inches to the right of the girl's head, as if he can't quite meet her eyes, he mumbles simply: "Sorry."

There are many things one may say about Smiffy, he's nice, likes the ladies, a spot of booze, a warm fire, and has no understanding of subtlety whatsoever. After a moment to study the cavern the ditto signaled by letting go of the cave ceiling and turning into a hard rock, an appropriate rock for the area as there were many examples, but a rock, falling, none the less. His landing was slightly muffled by the layer of dirt on the floor, but it was still loud enough to be heard at the cave's entrance if the listener wasn't talking or doing cartwheels or something to distract themselves.

Immediately Maddy ducked under the complete lack of cover and whispered at the top of her lungs "You shithead!" before shouting "Hands in the air!" at Vivian in her slightly-more-panicked-than-threatening voice. With the shotgun aimed in the biker's general direction (that's one of the really nice things about them, general directions work too) Maddy swung her pack off one shoulder and with her off hand began rummaging through to get the other pokeball, containing Roger. Smiffy, Laying awkwardly in the middle of the entrance to the cavern, and still a rock, called back "Ditt?", to which Maddy replied "Shut up or do something useful".

Smiffy shut up.

(actually posting posts on this screen is disappointing, it's so wide that everything ends up being two or three lines tall...)

Paul weighed his options. The man was unarmed and mostly harmless. Mostly was the key word, and that could change on a dime. Okay, they would take him for a ride, but there would be precautions taken, of some variety. Paul jumped on the bike, gave Juno a chance to do the same, started it back up, and rolled over to Willam and the man. "Alright, this is what's gonna happen, if you'll agree. Willam, you're taking the passenger, but you're going to have to give me your weapons. If we leave them on you, you either have to let him drive or he could grab them while he rides. Little as I wish to imply anything about his honor," Paul didn't look like he cared the least bit, "it would be unwise to leave our back open. So, Willam. Grab your bike, hand me your firearms."

And Willam would be unarmed for the remainder of this ride. Half good, half bad. Willam was unpredictable, but unpredictable wasn't useless.

Alex stared at Gabrielle and waved off Gerard's question. It was as if she didn't even notice the gun. If he could steal my pokeball without me noticing till after the fact, you really want to take chances that he'll steal your gun just as fast? Not smart Gerard. Not smart at all. Alex wanted to get out as fast as she could with the other two kids. Safely too if she could help it.

"That was really mean of you to take my pokemon. But you apologized so it's okay." A tiny part of her wanted to hold a grudge, to hate him and find some sort of payback. While it would satisfy the teen in me, I can't. I'm tired and broken. Life's too precious to waste away hating someone for something they've sincerely apologized for. That was what kept her from forgiving/forgetting Beati and the Exterminant - she knew they'd never repent for what they'd done to her. Whoa no, back to the subject at hand. "Just please don't do that again," she said with a slight smile.

She turned her head to Lexi and said, "You know, you're right. It's not really all that pleasant an environment here is it? I think that might have to do with the smelliness of the oddish. I really don't want to be around when they decide to get closer - bug pokemon always seem to smell awful to me. It's a good time to leave." She lightly touched the girl's arm - Alex could tell that Lexi was uncomfortable and wanted to calm her in any way she could. "You're a very smart girl. I wish I'd had your intelligence when I was your age."

Alex then turned to Gerard and slowly walked towards him. "Thanks for asking if I was okay earlier. I'm fine now. So is Lexi though we're both a bit tired of the scenery." She lightly touched the arm holding the gun. "I really think it's time to leave. Trouble seems to like us and I don't want it to catch up." She wanted him to move the gun away from Gabrielle's head. "Courage is a wonderful thing to have - and I appreciate it - but sometimes it has the side effect of dragging you into darkness." She knew he'd already killed one person - no need to darken his soul with another murder. You don't need to kill him. This isn't something you want to do. Going down that road will corrupt you - don't end up like me.

"It's time to go."

----------

"Oh. Hell. No." She jumped off the bike and away from the three males. "We're not going anywhere until he tells me about the geezer and the kid," she stated as she pointed at the weaponless man. "Correction: I'M not going with any of you until you tell me the damn truth!"

There were only three words for Juno's mood: Pissed. As. Hell.

"I am SO TIRED of being ordered around. I am SICK of being manipulated by everyone I meet." Her knuckles turned white due to how tightly she was making fists. "Seeing as you've been with me the longest, perhaps you can understand my instinctive distrust to meeting new people," she said to Paul. If he looked back on everyone the two had come across, he'd realize that indeed everyone seemed to want something from her (be it death or some other use). "Paul, we need to talk. NOW."

All she wanted was the truth - was that too much to ask? I can't tell if he's a wandering savior or a slave trader. I don't know if he wants to help me from the goodness in his heart or for some other reason. I WANT ANSWERS. This was certainly the best time to have any sort of conversation; she would make full use of it.

Paul ran through the necessary calculations. This always happened, no matter the circumstances. It happened with his family, it happened with his friends, and it always happened with his enemies.

If she were to decide to become a problem, the biggest threats on her were the pokémon and the gun. Willam, too, might try to interfere if there were aggression. Paul wouldn't start it - that would be unwise - but he needed to be prepared to take proactive action to prevent from being shot. So if there were to be a fight between them, Paul would have to slid past whatever punches and kicks she would be likely to throw, ensure her pokéballs were deactivated and on the ground, and pin the hand closest to her gun (the right one). It'd have to be clearly for pacification's sake. Nobody else would interfere as long as Paul clearly remained on the defensive, which disabled his ability to move before she struck.

Those thoughts run over, Paul only afterward pondered whether or not she was likely to attack. The end result? Pretty unlikely. Angry, unpredictable, possibly angry enough to go for a fist-fight, but definitely not enough to pull guns or pokémon. If there was going to be aggression, though, Paul would want to be closer to her either way, so this "we need to talk" thing was perfect. They'd needed to anyway.

Having considered the practical side of things, Paul now shifted gears to the appropriate words to say. Obviously, his role was pacification, again. He could weave a story, but he'd already left enough hints at the truth that that probably wouldn't be any good. He wasn't quite sure what he had or hadn't said, and a contradictory story at this point would be bad. So he'd have to tell her about Terrian - she was to be protected. Some third party was watching over her. That'd be good. Reverand Beati would also be an acceptable conversation piece, if only to point out that there was a reason Paul was actively protecting her. Paul would not under any circumstances mention the fact that he was still considering following Beati's orders. That would just be stupid.

Finally, Paul shifted gears from nebulous concepts to specific words. He couldn't mention that he hadn't ordered her - she was too angry for corrections like that. Start from scratch, give her what she wants.

Paul stepped aside with her. She wasn't exactly short, but Paul was a good head taller. "Before we begin, keep your back facing them," Paul instructed, his voice low enough that the rest couldn't hear him. "That way, if one of them tries to pull something funny while we're distracted, I have a clear line of sight to put them down.

"Okay. I've been wanting to chat with you anyway, but time here is limited, so I'm going to give you the short version," he continued in the same tone. Mention teleportation? Hard decision. He didn't want to seem excessively crazy. Therefore, short version. "I was approached by a gentleman named Dr. Terrian. He told me that there were a number of children, and that I had to protect them. Almost immediately afterward I was approached by another man, one Reverend Beatitude, who promptly asked me (rather more politely, ironically) to apprehend and bring said children to him. You're one of the children they mentioned. Somehow, you're important." You're probably modified somehow, Paul thought. Genetically or some nonsense like that. Can't wait for you to find that one out. "Anyway, I... found my way to where you fought the meganium, and you know the rest. Now, as I said, we don't have much time - are you willing to go through with this plan? If not, explain to me something better." That took an effort. Paul knew his plan was for the best, and he also strongly suspected she was going to disagree with it no matter what.