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 Posted: Sat Jul 18, 2009 11:41 am
Cinders of the Future
Hellz yeah, we're back.
Introduction
Post-apocalyptic RP. Pokémon RP. Whether you’re a fan of vicariously heralding doomsday through an actualized world suffering a dearth of life or a fan of vicariously living out your GameBoy-borne childhood daydreams through pseudo-scripted fantasy, welcome home.
*cue Coheed and Cambria; it helps if you play their stuff while you read this next part*
This is not Nintendo, and this is not 4-Kids. That is the most important fact to remember. We do not have pretentious preteens running around and saving the world; as exhibited by the cracked and chaotic crumbs of civilization around you, the last group of those that was blindly supported by delusional officials failed. Your only in-person experience of them will be if you chance to breathe some of the atoms that once comprised them; those, at least, that were not shredded as carefully-crafted psychic powers escalated far more swiftly than anyone but the nuclear physicists who predicted them could have imagined.
Your child heroes are dead. All that remain are cinders.
Arise and succeed them; succeed, now that they have failed. Will you fade, or burn bright again?
Contents:
1) Intro
2) Background
3) Rules/Guidelines
4) Character Creation
5) Gameplay
6) Maps
7) The Present
cool Affiliates
9) Other Information
10) Awesome Points
11) Temp Characters
Nintendo owns Pokémon. I'm pretty sure I have to say that if I want to avoid losing all the money I don't have...
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Posted: Sat Jul 18, 2009 11:53 am
Approaching CalamityScientists of the major nations have been aware of a potential outbreak of psychic, pokémon-generated power for the past twelve years. Fossil evidence combined with extensive and multivariate dating techniques involving tremendous advances in the application of ether, the intangible substance that fuels pokémons’ inexplicable defenses and special attacks, points to a race of creatures predating the largely unexplained advent of pokémon life on Earth: these are the mews. It is rumored that ether is not a naturally occurring phenomenon; rather, it is the psychic presence left behind when the race, once enamored of humans and, indeed, all earthly creatures, suddenly and mysteriously vanished. As technologies were developed to trace the use of ether back in time and to pinpoint pockets of ethereal activity on earth, scientists at first were led to puzzle over and then forget about a large patch of empty space somewhere beneath the legendary city of Pompeii; specifically, under the now-dormant volcano nearby. As suspicions grew, information leaks indicating the source of the violent explosion there centuries ago were immediately shut down by governments worldwide as fit only for the tabloids. Dozens of scientists and their pokémon were indefinitely incarcerated for their speculations, and it is spoken of in hushed tones that some may even have been executed to prevent worldwide panic; because deep beneath the earth’s surface, in that patch of “empty space,” a team of scientists managed to identify what was actually a force so powerful that the instruments used to detect it failed. Among them was Dr. Beatrice Oak (18 June 1943 – 21 December 2007). An excerpt from Professor Oak’s journal, found in her jail cell after her death: 12 December 2002
This entry shall summarize the important points of the upcoming downfall of humanity. I will be killed for this, but it must be said:
It is possible that when the citizens of Pompeii were annihilated, the last surviving mew had coughed in its sleep. If the pulses the ERIs [ethereal resonance imagers] are gathering simulate brainwaves as closely as I know they do, this creature is preparing to enter a REM cycle the psychic reverberations of which will reach full potency at the exact date the Mayans predicted for the destruction of the Earth so long ago. Just as alakazams’ brains have been observed to hemorrhage under the resonantly enhanced amplitude of psychic waves emitted by our instruments, major cities with high populations both of human beings and of high-level pokémon will be subject to the resonant frequencies created by the upcoming sleep stage of this creature. I don’t know why the creature is here, but for this to be anything but a vengeful strike on the human population seems unlikely. I only pray that we can appease it.
The more people and consequently, pokémon, who are gathered in one place, the greater the destruction will be. For villages, small cities, and undeveloped nations, I believe I may safely say that the damage will be minimal and deaths will be scarce. For national capitols and the like, though… I fear I must consult the nuclear physicists in discreet language if I am to properly assess the scope of the potential damage without endangering my career. It is an impossible task, I know, but we must develop a worldwide repopulation plan. There must be a way to minimize the damage, because the potential for destruction will continue for as long as this most ancient of creatures continues to dream. For humanity’s sake, I hope that its tendencies are not as like those of humans as its brainwaves appear to be; if so, unless we learn to either awaken it or anticipate its dreams (which should be the catalysts for the event), we cannot expect to return to our current lifestyles for at least… I feel like a gibbering idiot for even suggesting this… a quarter-million years. Assuming human tendencies and direct proportionality for the length of its sleep cycle (assuming, again, that it has been asleep this whole time), each dream will last between five hours and four days, during which time large cities must be evacuated and population densities lowered as much as possible; a nearly impossible feat.
No one will believe me. I will just be killed. The suits who keep walking around my laboratory seem to be greater in numbers near my station, these days. I fear I have little time remaining.Eventually, someone decided the threat was real. It is not certain when activity began, exactly, except to say that it were some time after Oak's imprisonment - the records have been lost. However, a small team of scientists of respectable rapport with the public did begin supporting her thoughts eventually and gathered a following of technicians and militants. Believing that children would have the greatest success in empathetically either awakening the creature or, in a scenario never fully revealed to the children, damping its psychic output by virtue of their comatose presence after remote controls injected them each with a paralytic serum, a group of six adolescents was sent to make their best effort to prevent the disaster in November of 2012, after an excavation team had been hired to dig away to the supposed resting site. They should have begun their trek much earlier, but difficulties including the spontaneous deaths of pokémon and humans on the digging team, instrument failures similar to those blamed for Bermuda Triangle incidents, and intermittent seismic activity significantly delayed the effort. Two children were murdered by religious fanatics who believed an apocalypse was not only inevitable, but a destined punishment; one (the youngest and potentially the brightest) died of hemorrhaging; and one fell ill and was forced to back out. The remaining two were followed by what remained of the scientists and military personnel who had accompanied them. They made regular radio broadcasts to the established home base, never reporting success in finding the creature. One week before the Calamity, one of the scientists simultaneously reported the death of his jynx and the discovery of the exact location of the invisible mew. Attempts at vocal communication were met with silence. All nonverbal communication likewise failed. Physical and ethereal attacks by a wide variety of pokémon did not rouse the creature’s interest. Failure seemed inevitable as trial after trial yielded no results. The chosen heroes began to despair, and after five days, the children were injected and fell into their prescribed comas. All radio transmissions immediately stopped and all instruments turned to the area spontaneously suffered fatal errors. Invaluable data was lost. The personnel did not return. A news broadcast was not made, although world leaders were informed. Having no concrete experimental evidence to justify evacuations and no non-incarcerated or deceased researchers who had been involved from the start to guide the way or even press the issue, nothing was done. Two days later, nuclear explosions ravaged every major city worldwide. Those places not immediately wiped out experienced detonating apartment complexes, office buildings, and hospitals, assuming they were not consumed outright by outbursts of elemental activity. Smaller cities remained largely untouched, save for widespread strokes and bleed-outs. The child who had fallen ill, one Gabriel Santa, was never found. The apocalypse was not averted. 
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Posted: Sat Jul 18, 2009 12:01 pm
Rules/GuidelinesA few things to which I kindly request you unquestioningly adhere: 1) Follow the Gaia ToS and RaG. 2) I demand literacy. While perfect grammar and syntax is highly preferred and generally rewarded, less-than-perfect is not punished. Bad is punished. Heavily. Also - third person past tense, please. 3) No godmoding, no auto-hits (unless I approve them), and no hostile takeovers of other characters. If one player is lagging by, I dunno, a few days, and has managed to paralyze your character, PM me and I will move their character for them. On that note, please, please, PLEASE notify everyone if you’re not going to be posting for a while or if you want to withdraw from the RP. Don’t just drop out. Your character will suffer a shameful death if you do without telling at least me. 4) Keep foul language to a minimum. It’s not forbidden; just be tactful. 5) No cybering. If you want to involve romance, feel free to; again, be tactful. 6) Ask forgiveness rather than permission, here. I am the end-all-beat-all for whether or not an action succeeds or a character gets hurt, but in general, I cannot encourage your creativity enough. Nintendo has been kind enough to provide a fandom with phenomenal potential; make epic use of it. 7) This is your best source of information regarding Pokémon, period (it’s what I will be using): Bulbapedia. It works just like Wikipedia. P.S.: If you have questions, I won’t bite your head off. Please PM me or better yet, put it in this original thread so other people can see them and my responses. Yet a third option is AIM: "SiberDrac"
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Posted: Sat Jul 18, 2009 12:08 pm
Character CreationRoles(#accepted/#needed/#allowable)Depending on the popularity of this RP, I will need: 3 to 9 young-uns, aged 14-21: no starting pokémon; first pokémon receives combat bonus, but starts in lowest stage of evolution; first characters to be brought into the RP (5/3/9) Taken: eevee, tyranitar, spearow, poliwag, houndour, ralts, sandshrew, vulpix 2 to 6 veterans, aged 22-55: start with a shotgun, handgun, and ammo; pokémon in any stage of evolution; allowed up to two pokémon; these are the most physically able characters available; come in slightly later than the young-uns Taken: charmander, abra, eevee/espeon, unown, murkrow, nidoran♂, slowpoke, porygon, ditto, magnemite (2), scyther (2) (5/2/6) 1 to 3 geezers, aged 56-92: pokémon may be fully evolved; allowed up to three pokémon; must actually be old (geezers with physical advantages as opposed to disadvantages will have to have really good reasons for having them); come in slightly later than the young-uns (2/1/3) Taken: abra, gastly, vulpix, tyrogue, pidgey, eevee/jolteon Character SubmissionsThis is how you will submit your character to me for consideration: Rather than have you flesh out a skeleton, I ask that you paint me a picture of your character, with his or her pokémon. No, an actual picture is not allowed. Using imagery and the intricacies of the English language, show me who your character is by depicting a tableau of that character. A tableau is a frozen scene in which all aspects of the included characters are evident. As parts of this literary tableau, you should include the following: personality (including any necessary background details), physical description (both character and pokémon), age, particular hobbies/interests/skills, family members (brief descriptions, if any), and why they are in that situation. This “scene” does not have to ever happen, nor does it have to have ever happened; it should be anything that fully describes the characteristics of the character in question (note the similarities in roots for those two words). Even if your character does not start with a pokémon, the pokémon should be in the description. Please make it clear whether or not this scene has actually happened. Title the PM “A Cinder Ready to Burn” and have the first line be your character’s first and last names and your pokémon’s name; send it to me (iD bracerS). I will reply either with an approval, suggested edits, or a request that you resubmit entirely, whether because I need the characters or pokémon to be different (hopefully never the case, and I will strive to avoid that) or because I feel you should try again. A sample is provided below. Note: Unless you provide good reasons for your character to start with certain items, I will be assigning items based on the role and the profile. Usually, I will accept suggestions for that with which your character begins the RP. Note: I also have room for "temp" characters, if that's something that might interest you. For people with "full-time" roles, these are only available upon amazing, amazing writing skills. If anyone wants to "part-time" a character, I am open to that. Accepted Characters((keep in mind that SiberDrac is a pretty long-winded jerk; yours don't have to be this long, although detail does allow me to be nicer to you... biggrin )) SiberDrac Jacob Thatcher (veteran); Bella (jinx) and Growltiger (arcanine) In the tiny, steel-plated room, surrounded by scattered papers from some project or another and sitting in a metal chair, leaning back against a battered lab bench, Jacob puts a lit cigarette to his lips. He’s grinning, and thinking, “To think after all the radiation that I’m still smoking cancer-sticks. And I’m not even gonna die of it.” His free hand cradles an AK-47, holding it pointed at the dully reflective, steel door that has sealed him in here. In his flack jacket is a picture of his family at a reunion from fifteen years ago: his parents, his sister and her sons, his uncle, and his three cousins, smiling happily as he took the picture that he knew would carry him through the War on Terror once he left the States. Behind him, a bright, violet dress hangs off the invisible shoulders of a short, female figure with gossamer, white, shoulder-length gloves and a face hidden almost entirely by thick, blonde hair. Bella, his jinx, has constructed a wall of ice between the two of them, protecting the secret door behind her, through which can be heard the crying of children and the dull thud of fleeing feet. Her usually bright eyes are half-closed in sorrow as she constructs her prison, and she turns them on the back of Jacob’s head, almost weeping despite his smiling face. She feels he has always been too carefree. In the war on Iraq, he was smoking those cigarettes, and it always gave away their position. He would just laugh, though. The only times he was serious were when he was actually killing and when his colleagues were in danger. Which was frequent, but no one died under his command. She knew him. He didn’t enjoy death. He liked the challenge of the violence, though. Can I live one more day? One more hour? One more minute? One more second? When the enemy broke through that door, she knew it would be a long time before they started chipping at her defenses, and she would slaughter them when they did. At his feet lies Growltiger, a great beast like a large dog wearing a tiger’s skin: this is Jacob’s faithful arcanine, who has been with him for longer than he can remember. His mane is as grizzled and flecked with gray as his master’s short, buzz-cut hair; his eyes shimmer as darkly as his master’s; his tremendous muscles are as relaxed and ready for action as his master’s. His head lies on his forepaws as his ears perk forward, listening to the approaching, maddening screams of the invaders. He can’t understand everything his master says, but Bella seems to believe they will die. Well then, so be it. He knows the children are safe. Bella’s wall of combined ice and psychic pressure can hold back an army for long enough for them to get to safety by itself, and with him and Jacob’s strength, nothing will get through. Jacob’s nephew and sister are safe. That is what matters. After the Calamity, the three of them, with the nephew and sister, roamed for a long time, searching for a town that was willing to take them in. At first, they didn’t even know it had happened. Living in a rural neighborhood, all they knew was that their TV had gone out. It wasn’t until they saw the unnatural firestorm raging from the direction of the city they lived near that they knew something was seriously wrong. They fled the house, managing to escape the destruction in Jacob’s Hummer. They had found a home eventually, but had not been aware for how short a time it would be theirs. When one of the wild packs swept towards the city, Jacob had already discovered this hidey-hole and the underground path to the countryside. He commanded everyone he had come to know to run and had Bella hypnotize an onyx into “encouraging” them to hurry it the hell up. So here he sat, amidst formaldehyde and weaponry, having survived so much, to be killed by a random pack of wild dogs, pokémon, and men. He almost laughed at the irony. Let them come. ((as you can see, mine is much more concise)) iD bracerS Edward and Sigmund Oak (administrative roles); Charlesworth (xatu) and Grimstrip (haunter) A look of horror is frozen on young Sigmund’s features as an unquestionably evil, clawed hand reaches out of his computer screen and error warnings flash at him. The hand is hardly human; it is purple and ends in razor-sharp tips. Most importantly, it is just barely translucent. It has not yet dawned on Sigmund, though his natu is plummeting from its perch on his head to the ground with laughter, that the translucence is due to the fact that the hand belongs to his older brother’s Grimstrip: a haunter, or a ghost made of sharp edges with a vaguely humanoid upper body tapering down to a triangular point and slanted, impish eyes caught in a constant sneer. The green-plumed, short-beaked, spherical bird pokémon currently falling through the air is Sigmund’s Charlesworth. Both pokémon are in very high spirits; this is a quirk of theirs that means they got along wonderfully as their respective masters grew up in spite of their opposing elemental capabilities. This is fifteen years prior to the Calamity. Both boys are still young in both body and heart, their similar appearances hiding the fact that Edward is two years his brother’s senior. Both have bowl-cut, dark brown hair, gray eyes, cheerful smiles, and small features. They are fifteen and seventeen. They excel in school, especially in the realm of computer science. At the time of this little prank, Sigmund is constructing a program to allow Charlesworth (or “Charlie,” more commonly) to calculate the strength of his psychic abilities based on how quickly he can telekinetically use the computer mouse to click invisible buttons, predicting their location by reading Sigmund’s mind for the on-screen coordinates. He is running the program on an operating system his brother wrote. Their father is still alive; he will die in four years from a heart attack. They spend the most time with their mother, though, despite her devotion to her work. She shares with them everything she knows and they drink up the knowledge. Their father is a military man who no longer believes in war; he dotes on them and tries to teach them sports, although neither really excelled athletically. He is a proud father, anyway. It’s a happy family. Isa-sama Juno Galladeigh (young-un); Evie (eevee) Juno felt herself get covered in a blanket. "Oh my God, what happened..." "...come from battle?" "-Poor child-" "-t's her name?" This is a nice blanket. She clutched it closer to her body. I feel warm. "Who could do this?" "Can't be alone--" "Where are her parents?" Reminds me of Mom.All Juno wanted was her mom. Was that too much to ask? Two days ago - God, was it even two days? - Juno was playing by the river with her eevee (named Evie - not very creative, eh?). Two days ago, she was sitting at the family table eating her small meal with her mom and dad. Just two days ago, Juno had a perfectly happy and normal life. But just two days ago, Cliffshire attempted to attack Rivendale. It was midnight. "Juno, honey, hide!" "Wha-?" Her mother pulled her out of bed and dragged her to the living room. Evie was pacing on the floor, whimpering in what seemed like fear. "We need to go. Now." Juno was now starting to pay attention to the world around her. She heard gunfire. Screams. "Mom, Dad, what's going-" "Karen, take Juno and get out of here. It's not safe." She was confused. What was Dad talking about? What was going on outside? "Don't you think they're just here for the water? Can't we just hide?" Her father looked grim. "I think they're out for more than water tonight." The gunfire was getting closer and closer to their home. Evie was starting to bark loudly. Juno picked Evie up and attempted to calm her down. It's okay, Evie. I don't know what's going on, but it's going to be okay," Juno muttered. "There's no time to talk, you have to get out." He pushed mother and child toward the back door. He looked determined. "I'll buy you as much time as I can." "Dad! Come with us! Don't leave us!" Juno's mother grabbed her daughter's hand and ran. Juno accidentally dropped Evie, but Evie ran after them - it seemed she knew that this wasn't the time to be upset over a sudden drop. Gunshots cried out in the dark, and somehow, Juno knew her father was dead.
Further into the night, the gunfire started to slow down. The screams faded away. Silence filled the night, not that Juno was paying any attention. She and her mother were running to Glenville; maybe they could find peace and shelter there. Juno's hopes were dashed when she saw her mother fall. "Hahaha! One of the bitches tried to run away!" Juno hid amongst the nearby bushes as she saw the killer get close to her mother. "This is not my fault. You hear, lady? Not my fault. You should have shared your water with us more. You were being selfish with your water," he spat upon her. "This is your fault." Evie jumped out of the bushes barking at the man. "What the hell? Hehehe, looks like another Rivendale b***h. Trying to protect her, huh? Well here's your reward..." Juno flinched as the gun shot her Eevee. Juno desperatly wanted to scream out, "She was just trying to protect Mom. Why'd you have to kill her? Why?!" But she couldn't. Not if she wanted to live.
Who knows how much time passed by, but after the man left, Juno ran. She ran fast and hard. Her feet were bleeding, but she wouldn't stop running. She couldn't. If she stopped, it meant stopping for good. Finally she ran into someone - quite literally. "E-excuse me, mister," Juno asked, "But where am I?" The guy looked startled, "This is the southern border of Glenville. Gods, what happened to you?" Juno would have answered, but she fainted right in front of him. "...I made it....Mom...Dad...Evie...""Excuse me, young lady," a stranger caught Juno's attention. This stranger was one of the older women with kind eyes. Kinda like Dad's. "Could you tell me what is your name?" Juno nodded. "My name's Juno G-" alladeigh. Her eyes started to water. She could barely say her last name. She was the only Galladeigh left in this world. She felt ashamed - why didn't she help? Why didn't she do more? She should have done more to save her parents. She could have at least saved Evie. But it wasn't her fault that they died. It was all Cliffshire's fault! Them and their greed! One day. I promise you, Mom, Dad, and Evie, I will get revenge for you. And they will fear the name Galladeigh. Juno heard a bark and whipped her head to look for the culprit. An eevee was looking at her with it's wide eyes. But it wasn't her Evie. Her silent tears fell, and she quickly wiped them away. I'm gonna need my eyes soon enough. Dad was always telling me how proud he was of my slingshot accuracy. Everyone who knew her knew how deadly she was with a slingshot. Maybe this place will let me practice with a gun. Gone was the quirky and sunny Juno - the Juno that arrived in Glenville on the blood red morning was quiet and serious. "My name is Juno Galladeigh." Xitemo Thomas Rikes (young-un); Saphious (sandshrew) The sun was low in the sky and the skies were clear, the definition of the signs of a beautiful sunset...but Tom was in no mood to enjoy it with the deluge of blood seeping from his side, kneeling from the pain. That damn scyther had to have been desperate to attack him in broad daylight without the rest of its swarm. "Thank god for good ol' Saph... Oy! Watchit! Chik Chik!" he said, shifting from a sigh to a shout, clicking his teeth at the last part. The young sandshrew responded with a similar noise and tightened its gaurd technique. Tom almost chuckled at how far they had come in such a short time... or was it really that short? The hand not holding his wound instincitively grazed over the cloth wrapped on top of his face. What was left of it anyways. Those damn explosions. The radio said they'd be safe. They lived in the middle of nowhere. But then...they came. The raid was short but brutal, and few survived. He had been one of those few, but only because they let him. He still remembered the heat of those flames...he couldn't even look at fire type pokemon now without shivering all over.
A yip tore him from memory lane. The oversized misquitoe had -his- Saphious pinned against the ground! "Hey! You dirty bug! Gittoff my pal!" he shouted, grimacing as stumbled awkwardly towards the pair and punched the scyther as hard as his condition would allow with his free hand. The giant insect stared at him incredulously. Most humans ran from it or set their pokemon after it... this was new, this was frightening! It did what any other panicing wild animal would do: it reacted violently. In a flash of green it pounced the new threat, and once it had him pinned it raised one of its namesake claws to eliminate that threat. Or it would have had not the already battered and bruised sandshrew jumped on its back and dig its little fangs into the softer exoskeleton between the armor of the shoulder and the neck. The scyther screeched and jerked its body in an attempt to throw the small marsupial. It took a few tries but finally the exhausted sandshrew had no choice but to let go, causing fluids from its opponent's neck to squirt out all over Tom's face and chest. The scyther, wounded far more than it had planned for what had appeared to be an easy meal, screeched angrily one more time and fled the scene, kicking up dust all over Tom and Saphious as it stumbled away. As soon as Tom realized the attacker was gone he rolled over and got to his knees. He looked around for a moment to see his partner face-down in the dirt, barely breathing. He struggled to his feet and over to where Saphious was, then picked up his little friend. "There, there..." he cooed, cradling the toddler-sized creature in his free arm. He wobbled over to where he had dropped his pack before practically collapsing to his knees. Laying the sandshrew down gently he rummaged through his bag. He cursed loudly when he realized one of the only two potions he had in there had cracked when he dropped the bag in the intial attack. This left it a little over a third full. They would both make it, but only one would be in fighting condition tommorow. Him or Saphious... how could he make that choice?! He was more seriously injured, but Saphious was his oldest and only friend! He had to make a choice - and soon.
Tom's wince would be exaggerated by the campfire's flickering light as Saphious licked its master's wounds. "Hey now. Quit that. It stopped bleeding and even scabbed a 'lil. Don't go openin' it again!" he barked at the happy and healthy creature he called his ally. Though he knew it didn't understand what he was saying, it still felt better to talk than to constantly chirp and chitter. "Chik-chutt" he clicked. The sandshrew nuzzled him one more time before it chittered back and found a spot not too far away to curl up and go to sleep.Tom sighed and rolled over to his good ribs before closing his eyes and muttering a prayer to whatever god felt like listening. "Please." he whsipered, "Let us find a town...we're almost outta food and that's -after- I started givin' Saph half of my share so he could get a full one. Plus this scratch in my side kinda hurts. Just ...please..."lily564a Madelyn (Maddy) Cache (veteran); Roberto Vilhelm yon Smiffy jr. (Smiffy) (ditto) and Roger (Bob) (magnemite) Pebbles tumbled down the cliff face, clicking and clacking past shadow cast figures hidden under a small outcropping. Maddy had her hand over Roger's eye as if to shush the mute creature, Smiffy wobbled in a Jello like silence. Above them heavy boots scuffed at the ground, hunters annoyed by how easily they had lost their prey. One of them stood at the edge, as if suspicious of the cliff. Moving as slowly as possible Maddy slid a shell out of her belt and held it in front of the wobbling mass on her shoulder, it stared with childlike amazement for a moment then consumed it and began to shimmer. Smiffy quickly took on the general form of a seagull, though the Dalmatian spots seemed out of place it was a fair bet that the men up on the cliff were not well schooled in the ways of birds. With an equally out of place chirp the bird took flight, startled, the man on the cliff moved to raise his weapon, but saw only a bird. Signing nonsense with one hand and rubbing Roger's screw with the other Maddy pushed him under her and sat as if on one of those animal-on-a-spring rider things they used to have in playgrounds, he drooped closer to the ground but could carry her easily. She peaked out from under the outcropping, just enough to see Smiffy circling high overhead, with less regard for stealth she pulled out her pistol, with its makeshift and largely ineffective silencer on the end, and fired far off to the right. As if struck by lightning all the men ran to the edge of the cliff and looked at where she had shot, not noticing that the bird circling overhead had turned into a shotgun and was pointed directly at them. While one can say Smiffy is a fairly extraordinary creature, one cannot say he is a good shot, considering he was the gun, and the gun was falling, it was a pretty darn not bad shot. With a sound not unlike thunder three of the four dropped to the ground, not fatally wounded but not walking home ether. The fourth dodged to the side, clung one arm to his shoulder where he had been hit and threw his rifle to aim at the sky with the other. Smiffy had by then transformed back to the bird and was flying quickly to meet up with Maddy and Roger, nearly a quarter of a mile away now. Various shiny things poked out of a bag clearly marked "LOoJ" on Maddy's back, soon enough Smiffy landed on the back and oozed inside, only reaching out with one tentacle to tap his master's back. With the tap she pulled a pair of broken goggles over her eyes and slapped Roger on the back, their pace doubled. Some miles and several periods of being lost later they stopped and made camp between several boulders, tossing the LOoJ sack aside roughly she reached into the sling on her side and pulled out a dark brownish bar that had the texture of a badly aged turd and broke off two pieces, tossing one to Smiffy and eating the other herself. She returned the bar to her sling and pulled out a rusted D sized battery and tossed it near Roger. He hovered over it inquisitively before positioning himself near the negative end of it and sinking closer. The battery slid towards him in the sand, slowly at first, then jumping straight to his gray sphere of a body. It stuck off at an odd angle but he buzzed happily as the energy drained from the cell. Smiffy slipped about outside their little bunker, disguised as a small lizard, he collected what flammable objects there were and returned just as the last beams of sunlight dropped out of view, leaving the clouds painted red and orange from the light just over the horizon. Roger shocked the small hill of tinder and it began to glow. The three curled up to sleep, as best as they could anyways. Roger simply lodged himself in a corner between two of the walls they had found, Smiffy spread himself over another rock and changed colors to blend. Maddy has strong opinions on an inordinately large number of things, mostly for lack of other things to do, she feels very strongly that sleep is a bad thing, an unavoidable evil of the world, like raider gangs and the bar she had for dinner. She always dreamed, and she always dreamed of home. Ten thousand miles away for all she knew and it still haunted her, burned into her brain with as much reality as the scars. As a child Madelyn lived a ways north of Quebec, the area was fairly wild but they were only a few hour's drive from the city. Her parents were the sort of business people that spend most of their time trying to prevent other business people from doing terrible things to pokemon, like force bulbasaurs to work in factories. At the time it was a sort of fad in Quebec to have psychic pokemon, as they are particularly susceptible it was one of the first places to go off. The explosion was fairly modest, the city was leveled and the outlying suburbs were badly damaged, not that anyone had time to notice. A mind destroying wave of uncontrolled psychic energies shot out well ahead of the blast, as it passed people simply fell to the ground, not yet dead, but no longer alive, the lucky ones would soon be incinerated but those further out would die days or weeks later from dehydration and starvation. At the time Madelyn was out camping with the family Abra, who had been named Pickles after some inside joke from before she could remember, they were just north enough that the wave only gave her a serious headache, Pickles was effected much more severely. At first he just fell unconscious, but while he slumbered a chain reaction in his head was creating a bomb, he was young and unskilled so it was fairly weak, especially compared to the wave. It started to rain, the forecast had called for a dry heat so they hadn't packed the rain cover for their tent, thinking fast she hung the limp Abra on her back and began hiking to a cave they had played in the day before. It rained for days, a drizzle at first then it whipped between hurricane force and light showers at random, thunder came and went. On the fifth day, well, morning, early morning, Pickles awoke. Madelyn was deep asleep, at the time she still enjoyed sleeping and her face was painted with a slight smile, barely visible in the pre-dawn light. Slowly, and not particularly quietly Pickles stumbled over and nudged her shoulder, she continued to sleep, he nudged her harder, she snored a little. Finally he turned her onto her back and grabbed both shoulders, finally she opened her eyes groggily then jumped at the sight of him. His eyes burned with the sort of fear one prays to never know, and his face twisted in pain. He looked deep into her eyes as if pleading for help, but it only lasted a second. He fell limp again, his eyes rolled back, and glowing slightly, she tried to get up but before she could even get on one knee he exploded. It threw her back and her head landed with a crack on the cave floor, just as in the city it's bark was worse than it's bite. In an instant the last glimpse of so many creatures, so many people, washed over her, a perfect blend of terror and nothingness. She stayed there staring blindly at the ceiling, the sun set and rose, then set again and bugs began to eat the liquefied remains of Pickles. Time became the sound of a faucet running in another room as Maddy navigated the labyrinth in her head. A bug bit her, mistaking warm flesh for the cold slag it had been feasting upon, and for the first time in how ever long, she blinked. Other than the paralyzing headache and feeling of being more unclean than any person should ever be, and of course the dried blood on in her hair, she was fine, the left half of the world was in an odd shade of orange but that was fine. a tiny wave of the glimpse brushed up against her consciousness and she was gone, running down the hillside as if for her life, no particular direction, no particular goal. A voice in her head said "Leave", and she did. A cold wind wandered through their encampment between the boulders, Smiffy shivered and slid down the rock face, oozing into the empty space of Maddy's fetal body before transforming into a teddy bear. Admiral Squish Jacob Vahzhiloks (young-un) and Nuzzle (swinub) OUTJokerman-EXE Gerard Waverly (young-un, 19), Justice (larvitar) Gerard is bored today. He rests his chin of his right hand, drums the fingers of his left on the countertop. His larvitar, Justice, is running around behind the counter, ferrying small boxes from the pile that was just delivered to the storeroom at the back. Gerard glances down at his friend, who pauses to look up at him with its big eyes. " Lar?" He smiles slightly and looks away, his gaze falling on the cardboard cutout in the front of the store. It depicts him, standing with his legs spread apart, one arm in front of his body, his eyes replaced with flame. At Gerard's leg is his larvitar, in the same pose. Beneath them is an advertisement for their store, run by Gerard's parents. It shows Gerard in his regular clothing, supposedly depicting one of the old-school Pokemon adventurers. His medium-length black hair was flying out of his face in reaction to his "spirit," and his compact muscles were nonetheless bulging. His larvitar was a dark emerald green, glinting in the light of his own fiery eyes. Gerard sighs. His bored gaze flicks through the store. Suspended from the ceiling is a two-sided cutout of his older sister, who is offering Pokeballs to shoppers below. Her kind smile and warm eyes have made the store more profit than Gerard's fiery spirit ever could. Stuck to the far wall is a cutout of his younger sister, in a pose of adorable confusion. " Need help? Ask one of our helpful employees!" Nothing new, really. There are no customers in the store at the moment, and the latest shipment had been delivered just over an hour ago. Nothing to do for the next two hours, until his sisters got here to relieve him and Justice. He wants to leave. He's been working at this store his whole life. At first, it was an honor and an adventure to work with his parents and big sister at the store. Then, his little sister had been born. Gerard had promised to look after her, but it was always difficult when she was such a brat. Still, almost everyone looked up to Gerard as an "older brother" figure, so he had no choice. After a while, the store became boring. In an effort to keep his interest, Gerard's parents had bought him his larvitar, and allowed him to be a part of the advertising, just like his sister. Gerard's interest was short-lived, again. Now, he wants to be outside. Running, climbing, swimming, anything. Gerard just liked to be out in nature, breathing fresh air and living life. And it's pretty easy to do, when the world's population density is so low. At this thought, Gerard rolls over so that his back is to the counter, his elbows resting on it as he stares up at the wall. There's an old map of the world there, from before the Calamity. Gerard had wanted to explore the world, once. He wonders if that dream will ever come true. It has been a few minutes. Gerard leans into the back room with a mixed box of Pokeballs and Potions to hand over to Justice. The back door is standing open, and his larvitar is gone! Calmly setting the box down, Gerard extracts three Pokeballs and two Potions, the only things he can fit in his pockets. One never knows what is in store, but he has resources at his disposal and he plans to use them. Patting himself down, Gerard runs out the back door, looking for his friend. Enradus Lorenzo Guiser (Young 'un) and Flora (Vulpix, female) Lorenzo is walking down a dirt road, but he doesn't look ahead. His hazel eyes search the sides of the road, behind him, the sky, anywhere someone could spring from. He wears a hand-me-down brown leather jacket, unzipped with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. Inside the jacket, he wears a white shirt with brown stains dirtying the chest and lower stomach. His hands are in his pockets, both fingering the cloth of the jacket's insides. His pants are a straight blue denim that wrap loosely around his legs, with holes in the knees that he didn't have to pay extra for. His shoes are a pair of dirty white Nikes with the two loose strings tied then burnt together, forming a black knot in the center of the top of his shoe. His skin is a natural tan from his Hawaiian blood, which also resulted in his long, messy black hair, which he ties back to form a small bushy ponytail at the bottom of the back of his head. Next to him walks Flora, a Vulpix. She was named because Lorenzo thought that her tails resembled a flower when he first saw her. There is nothing specifically amazing about her in comparison to other Vulpix, though she does tend to become very protective of Lorenzo, and becames enraged if she sees any other pokemon near Lorenzo, spurting flames in every direction. They were accidental friends. The best kind. They had met before the apocalypse, in what Lorenzo refers to in his mind as, "A dark and scary cave." He had gotten separated from his parents on a hiking trip when he was 12 and was lost in the forest. It started to rain, and he went into a cave to keep out of the wet cold. As it happened, a certain Vulpix had also come into the cave from the rain. Flora was a lone wolf (well, fox, technically) and had been abandoned by a former trainer that had replaced her with a Ninetales he had received in a trade. He didn't see the need for such a small, first-level runt and kicked her aside, leaving her stranded and destitute. She became very stone-hearted towards any human she met, spurting cautionary flames and tackling Grass pokemon to spite them. But now, as she looked at the dripping-wet, scared, twelve-year-old Lorenzo, she felt a warm sensation in her tail. She padded over gently and laid next to Lorenzo, increasing her body temperature ever so slightly to warm Lorenzo's body. Lorenzo collapsed into sleep with an arm over her, and Flora nestled a little closer. They would be found the next day by a forest ranger with an Eevee who had been hired by his parents. The rest of the story is history. Lorenzo became inseparable friends with Flora, and convinced his parents to let her into their house. They grew up together, all the way into the apocalypse, where they walk the rubbish simply to survive with each other. Shaula Al Nair Alexis Hale(young-un, 17) and Phoenix (spearow) The fork near the top of her father’s tallest berry tree was one of Lexi’s favorite places. She loved climbing and being up here reminded her of when she would go camping with her family before the Calamity struck. Her tan skin and dark brown hair, coupled with a black T-shirt and green pants, blended in well with the tree’s branches. She liked it that way. It was easier to get good pictures when the pokemon got closer, and standing out in these days seemed to be more trouble than it was worth anyway. She wasn’t photographing pokemon today though; her camera hung to her side while her blue eyes were focused on a small black laptop. She had finished her homework two hours ago but words like ‘resonant frequency’ and ‘atomic orbitals’ were still scattered across the screen. A simple question had spiraled out into a tour of physics websites for the second time that week, which was fine with Lexi. The science websites were fascinating to the girl and often seemed to be the only place where there was any good news or progress anymore. Everyone else seemed to have given up. A fluttering brown and red shape nearly collided with Lexi’s face before she leaned out of the way, chuckling and rummaging through one of her cargo pants’ pockets. In there with a compass, an extra battery for her camera, the key to her motorcycle, and a small cubical MP3 player was a bag of chocolate chips. She grabbed a chip and tossed it into the air. Before it fell even a few inches, a bird the size of her head with reddish wings flew by and snapped it up in its sharp, hooked beak. The berry trees her father planted when he settled down after being a trainer attracted all sorts of pokemon, and, even though other people seemed to think Lexi’s family should be nervous about the number of pokemon that came through, the pokemon pretty much left the family alone. The spearow that had dive-bombed Lexi was the only exception, but the bird seen Lexi eating the chips earlier and knew she could get a few if she tried. The winged pokemon had been more willing to get close to Lexi ever since the bird had tried to fly through the living room window and Lexi and her dad had taken care of her until she could fly off again a few days later. “Lexi, you up there?” The girl heard her elder sister’s voice and looked down. “Yeah?” Lexi’s sister had an embarrassed smile on her face and her hands were woven behind her back, neither of which was a good sign. “Well…Mom’s still at work and…you know how you got my computer working again after I dumped coffee on it?” Uh oh Lexi walked barefoot onto a branch where she could be seen and groaned. “Again?” The older female nodded. “Please?” To her credit, the woman on the ground looked genuinely sorry this time, as opposed to the ‘fix this now’ glare Lexi usually got from her sister when something important broke. This made Lexi figure the woman was really in trouble this time, so she packed her laptop into a messenger bag slung over her shoulder and then she climbed her way down the tree, sometimes dropping from one branch to another when her compact size wasn’t long enough to reach. When she reached the ground she turned to her sister, smiling and shaking her head. “So was it coffee again or did you manage to find something even stickier?” Lullyn Talia Horsley (17; young-un) and Pita (pikachu) once played by _darkened_sword_ OUT Metal Trsu Rave Marik (veteran), Arbok (arbok) OUTSirBayer Paul McCulloch (veteran); Zoidberg (alakazam) and Oddjob (charmander) Paul sits high in an alcove, watching over the road through the scope attached to his G3A4A1. The rifle was originally designed and built in Germany, and somehow found its way to the Middle of Nowhere, USA. Well, but it’s hardly the Middle of Nowhere anymore. Anyhow, the rifle is chambered in 7.56x51mm NATO - a round plentiful in the United States or in any other NATO country. Ammunition nor magazines for it are ever a problem for him. Its detachable scope serves him well, and he always keeps the sights honed so that he can use them in an emergency. An even more exotic tritium-illuminated reflex sight is frequently found adorning it; it’s a beautiful gun. So is his 1911, the short version issued to officers shortly post-WWII, called the M15. 8 round magazines, .45 ACP, possible to carry concealed. It goes along with his PPK and Glock 26, all of them small and concealable firearms, relics from a day when there were people to hide them from. Paul’s flak jacket wasn’t hard to find. He wasn’t ever in the military, but there were depots nearby, and the military remnant had plenty of surplus. His camos and ghillie suit are much the same - stolen from someone who won’t miss them. He’s very well equipped. That’s even without mentioning his Pokemon, though. They’re something else. His mainstay, one who hardly ever goes away, is Zoidberg, named for the funny mustache that vaguely resembles Dr. Zoidberg. Another relic. Paul claims Zoidberg is named after his cat Zoidberg, but that cat was named Zoidberg for a reason. Zoidberg was found wandering about the woods as an abra. It was an extremely rare find, and Paul decided he couldn’t pass up catching the thing. Luckily, abra was hungry and desperate, and there was no need for a struggle. It didn’t take long for them to bond, either; Paul and the then-nameless abra shared quite a few characteristics, largely a sense of humor and a distinct desire to survive. abra grudgingly accepted Paul’s name, and grew in power over the years. He was extremely lucky to survive the apocalypse; that will be explained shortly. Oddjob was discovered shortly after Zoidberg. He had proved more of a problem, and it was lucky Zoidberg was there to subdue him. It took longer for Oddjob and Paul to get along, and Oddjob couldn’t understand just how awesome his name was, or the fact he was named after Paul’s other cat. Perhaps that would’ve helped. However it happened, though, Oddjob became just as subservient and friendly. It was a lucky thing, too; he was badly needed to survive, and his hot-headed-ness was advantageous. Paul’s survival strategy for the cataclysm was simple: Move to bumville. It was for that reason he selected a home further out of Riverdale than might have been anticipated, a location directly between Riverdale and Woodmount. Before the troubles between them began, he purchased unholy amounts of ammo from them, and continues to collect it regularly through various other means. His home stands near the river, entrenched in the woods, hidden by boughs and evergreen. Today, he sits in the alcove in his attic, the one with the little window; he is sitting cross-legged, and has been changing postures as necessary to remain comfortable. Magazines and spent cartridges litter the floor; boxes of ammo are stacked up near the window, behind the steel plates he has installed to provide true cover. Over his shoulder stands his alakazam; Zoidberg’s eyes are incredibly intense, and the odd spoons gripped in his hands are making his yellow knuckles white. His oddly segmented, almost shell-like flesh quivers slightly with tension as he attempts to suppress another of the Pokemon out on the yard. Those yellow irises glare, almost glow, as his lanky limbs twitch again, all physical representations of the mental conflict going on within his head. Oddjob is busy as well, all red and white - fire spewed forth from his tail, white streaks of claws striking out at anything that comes near. His eyes are even fiercer, more animalistic; they speak of rage, of killing, the red within them fighting to escape his body, burn the earth. The lizard-like build is powerful, dangerous, fast, lithe - too many adjectives to sum up all together. And above it all reigns Paul. They probably didn’t see him there, until it was too late. His shaved brown hair is covered with a dark baseball cap, his dark shirt and gloves conceal him in the twilight. His blue eyes are too small to be seen, his pale skin is covered wherever it shows. Suddenly, though, his mastery is broken, if only for a second. One of them has gotten too close; he hurls a Pokeball, much like some sort of frag grenade, up at the open window Paul is shooting from. Paul grabs the barrel guard of his rifle with both hands and strikes the Pokeball like a baseball; when it finally deploys, the Pokemon is dropped from several meters and does not feel up to returning to the fight. Shortly, the raiders are pulling back. The Minutemen will arrive, just a minute too late; they always did. The raiders aren’t too numerous to hold a house against them yet, though, and they still haven’t figured out how to get past Paul’s defenses. They can certainly go around him, but they can’t go through him. +Karvanoppa+ Randy Sheppy (veteran), Nemesis (ursaring) and Ditto OUTOther profiles in a post below. Gaia's character limit tried to delete some folks. Read on.
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Posted: Sat Jul 18, 2009 12:14 pm
Gameplay
Pokémon
Health
Items
Rewards
Pokémon
In this universe and this RP, there are several things I would like you to remember while choosing a pokémon for your character to start with; I wish the list was not so long, but given how long this fandom has existed and how drastically I would like to manipulate it, the length is unfortunately necessary:
• Pokémon will be assigned on a first-come-first-served basis. No two characters in the same general role will have the same starting pokémon. You must start with a pokémon at its lowest stage of evolution, and legendary pokémon are forbidden. Also, this RP will only deal with the “first” 251 pokémon; that is, those present in the Gold and Silver editions of the game or in the “Jhoto” season of the TV series. Consult Bulbapedia if you’re uncertain.
• Because this is a realistic RP, I strongly encourage detailed descriptions of your pokémon, rather than relying on “common knowledge” of the franchise to describe the creature for you. For the same reason, there will be no “leveling” system; nor will there be a defined set of “techniques” to be learned. No pokémon is going to respond to “vine whip” or “quick attack” unless the trainer has already taught the animal that way. Instead, I ask that you adhere at least partially to the games’ corollary of experience versus abilities.
• Pokémon are not the only animals in this universe. There are still dogs, rats, hawks, and the like; these will be referred to with the descriptor “mundane” to disambiguate when necessary. Because of pokémons’ reality here, though, I do ask that their species never be capitalized. There may be a few pikachu or a graveler, but there is no such thing as a Sudowoodo. In keeping with that line of thinking, there are no talking pokémon and very few fully sentient ones. If there is one, it is because I put it there. Only psychic pokémon have the ability to speak in the English language, and then only telepathically; other than that, no matter how smart a creature is (they can approach full sentience; just not reach it), it cannot use comprehensive language.
• Special abilities such as “hyper beam” that are generally available to certain pokémon will consume a pseudo-magical force known as “ether.” Using ether will mentally fatigue one’s pokémon. Ether is also usable as a defense against special (ethereal, ether-based, etc.) attacks. For example: a pokémon with lots of ether remaining will not necessarily suffer hypothermia or fry because it is frozen or electrocuted. Health is covered later in more detail. Please have fun with your attacks, though! I don’t want something’s ability to use “bubble beam” to be restricted to firing super-powered bubbles at something. This is a mature RP; get a tentacool to fill the bubbles with acid and then encase something’s head in them. Honestly, your creativity is what will allow you to do amazing things in this RP (and what will get you brownie points with me, and brownies are scrumptious, so you want them).
• In nearly all cases not involving guns, a human being will lose to a pokémon. This is because a human being has no defense against something that can electrocute it from twenty feet away, melt its face with fire, or paralyze it with a pollen blast.
• Like I said before: this is not Nintendo, and this is not 4-Kids (although Nintendo does have ridiculous levels of copyright on Pokémon, to their credit). If your pokémon gets hit with a car or a bullet, then it will have broken bones (assuming it has bones) or a puncture wound. These are no longer children’s fantasies or cartoons: these are now living, breathing animals, as physical as your character. Note: because of this, reasonable pseudoscience is encouraged and applauded.
Health
In general, I expect players to keep up with the relevant and relative states of health of themselves and different pokémon. These that follow are the short list of status changes that will require a bit of SCIENCE to keep under control, although these are by no means the only things that can happen to a person or pokémon. Also, a human or pokémon's "turn" counts as one post in which it takes action (or explicitly rests), obviously followed by a response from the appropriate player. If you have questions, I will be happy to answer them in the thread.
Note: keep in mind that ether-based causes of these ailments/buffs will work virtually every time on a human being.
Paralysis: The character is immobile. Just for a reference, let's pretend a pikachu is paralyzing (that is, using the games' "shockwave" attack) a machop. The machop has just been hit full-on with a lightning bolt summoned from the sky (the games' "thunder" attack) and the pikachu is in full health, so there is a good deal of disparity in terms of their ether-based healths. Assuming no interference (as in, the attack hits), the machop is now paralyzed for two turns. Had it also just been beaten severely, it would be paralyzed for three turns. If its ether had been entirely stripped down, the attack could be used to stop its heart.
Poison/Burn: These do not have turn calculations; they are permanent, and must be healed. For another example, if a koffing spits a cloud of poison at a cyndaquil and they both are in full health, the cyndaquil will be minorly poisoned and thus weakened - the cyndaquil's player is asked to take that into consideration in his/her posting. If the cyndaquil is then given a strength buff and spits fire at the koffing, the koffing will suffer a moderate burn to whichever part was struck, and will be exposed to greater damage on that part.
Sleep: The character is asleep. Any attack will awaken the character. Same turn calculation as paralysis. Some pokémon (snorlax, abra, etc.) can still act while asleep.
Confusion: I gain control of the character; actions are random. Same turn calculation as paralysis.
Minimize: The pokémon is in a condensed form; it is faster and takes up less physical space. Lasts three turns.
Attack/defense buffs/detriments (physical or ethereal): Same as for paralysis; you may be seeing a trend. I like to leave these up to the characters, unless I see that I need to step in to deal with abuse of the "system," such as it is.
Items
These will mostly be covered in greater detail as the story progresses, but this is just to give you an idea of what will be available to you during the game. Obviously, “other” will be expanded as needed.
Pokéballs
Original
Great
Master
Sera
Potions (concentrated ether able to heal wounds on contact)
Ether boosters
Guns
Handguns
Shotguns
Machine guns
Vehicles
ATVs
Motorcycles
Other
Elemental stones
Technical machines
Hidden machines
Rewards
In response to good writing, I will be giving rights/responsibilities to those who want and deserve them. These will come in several forms, and may or may not be told to that Gaian privately. These are available for "free" via AP; otherwise, they'll just occur. Here are a few of the perks I might judge you worthy of receiving, in order of their awesome:
1) Extra items
2) Pokémon evolutions
3) Extra Pokémon
4) Pokémon from outside the Gold and Silver version
5) The opportunity to write for an NPC*
6) The opportunity to write a side-quest*
*I will always let all players know before awarding these so there is no confusion. Also, I will judge when one of these has gone on long enough (as in, when the quest is over or when the NPC dies), and it will only continue if that writer is willing to play against me for that event’s soul. I, being the GM, will play dirty if this happens razz but if you can evade me sufficiently, I will gladly concede defeat.
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Posted: Sat Jul 18, 2009 12:38 pm
Maps
Overall, the four cities involved can be thought of in terms of a large, equilateral diamond. Glenville is at the north corner, Riverdale is at the south, Cliffshire is at the east, and Woodmount is at the west. The Elk River runs from east to west immediately north of Riverdale. Cliffshire backs up to a mountain range to the south and east that extends its reach to about fifteen miles south of Riverdale. There are other, smaller towns scattered among them, most of which died out or were abandoned. Below is the map of the known landscape.
_____________________S___
_________________________
____________G____________
______t___________________
_________________________
W______________________C
____________H____________
______p__________________
____________R____________
G=Glenville
W=Woodmount
C=Cliffshire
R=Riverdale
H=the Haven
S=the Sanctuary
p=Paul's house
t=ghost town (Alexandra found)
___ = Elk River
Glenville
Population: 40 000
Borders:
N: 8.0 mi.
S: 10.1 mi.
E: 3.5 mi.
W: 4.6 mi.
Northeast:
Baseball stadium
Residential/suburban
Large church
Northwest:
Hospital
Offices
Glenville College
Southwest:
Park and river, running northwest
Professor Oak’s house
Two small churches
Southeast:
Primary shopping district
Restaurants
Central:
Higher-class living
Offices
Shopping
City Hall
And of course there are residential areas of varying levels of suburbia throughout, petering down into individual houses closer to the outskirts.
DETAIL:
----------------
|......H..GC..................|
|...............CH...............|
|.....hp...........................|
|.....c.PO..c......................|
--------------------
H = hospital
GC = Glenville College
CH = City Hall
c = church
PO = Professor Oak's house
hp = hydroponics reservoir
.... = river; 20-50 ft. wide, 2-7 ft. deep
_, | = primary access point
Glenville has combined its various service forces into a single team, following the advice of some of the more experienced surviving leaders. This team is called the Protectors and functions in three units, though any member can provide any of the services: fire brigade, police force, and emergency service. As for government, the surviving five members of the city council run a sort of oligarchy with many representatives from the populace as advisors, including Professor Oak’s two sons. This group makes those decisions a city would normally make: transport, city planning, etc. Because it is nearly impossible to uphold a monetary system after the Calamity, Glenville is a commune wherein people perform those tasks at which they excel for the good of the whole; its quick transfer to such a system is why it is one of the most successful cities to have survived.
The population (around 65,000 humans, plus pokémon) was small enough pre-Calamity that no major catastrophe hit them, although their numbers have dwindled significantly from the lesser effects of strokes and radiation-associated deaths. Communications are made daily with other surviving cities in attempts to solve the tremendous numbers of cases of cancer and the perhaps greater problem of impending famine.
Supplies are low as port cities have been mostly wiped out, but reunification attempts have made the transport of goods from what farming communities were not abandoned a reality. However, it was clear that in this fallout-blasted land, food would be difficult to continue to come across. Hydroponics has become the solution; Glenville is one of the cities lucky enough to have an extensive aquifer. However much they may wish to share their shelter and bounty, though, they must restrict themselves to forming trade caravans every few weeks so that they do not risk too heavily increasing their numbers. This makes them a prime target for the rising animosity in the three southern cities, despite Glenville’s willingness to provide what food they can. Hunger will drive people to desperation, so most families in Glenville have more reliable access to defensive weaponry than to electricity. A natural gas power plant a few miles away supplies that electricity, but with the scarcity of people qualified to maintain it, electricity only runs during the day and a few hours into night. Some homes, the main university buildings, and the hospital have generators that allow them to break this “curfew” when needed.
Riverdale
Population: 10 000
Dimensions:
N: 8.0 mi. (Elk River)
S: 4.3 mi.
E: 3.7 mi.
W: 5.3 mi.
North:
Residential
Shops
Fishing sites
Pier and bridge
Center:
Shopping
Town Hall
Park (soccer fields)
Apartments
Medical clinic
Schools
DETAIL:
------ppbpp-----
|............................../
|.............c...............|
|............................/
|...........TH.C......../
|............c......../
|.................../
|................./
----....c../
........----
C = clinic
TH = Town Hall
c = church
p = pier
b = bridge
.... = river; 500-1000 ft. wide, 20-60 ft. deep
_, | = primary access point
Riverdale suffered almost no deaths in the midst of the Calamity. However, their water was very quickly polluted by fallout, killing almost a third of their population before the source was identified. Luckily, the water coming down from the mountains immediately south of them was mostly clean, meaning that they could quickly form teams to bring it back in sufficient quantities to the town. Agriculture has been marginally successful, so the smallish population survives on rations in addition to what Glenville sends them. They are the least aggressive of the three smaller cities, but also the most likely to be attacked, for their large supply of pure water. In addition, they have more reliable access to electricity, from the hydroelectric power plant a ways down the river. For the most part, they are self-sustaining, although for how long they can successfully farm the earth is up to question. They have made liberal application of grass and rock pokémon and new discoveries throughout the world in application of ether to nourish largely infertile ground.
Like Glenville, they have put together a force to protect the citizens from outside attack; these are called the Minutemen. Raids have been relatively common from the two cities to the northeast and northwest, so Riverdale is arguably the most defensive and reclusive of the four cities in the area. It lies approximately seventy miles south of Glenville. Its only reason for rising against Glenville, if it chooses to do so, is under threat of combined attack from the other two cities.
Cliffshire
Population: 7 300
Dimensions:
N: 3.7 mi.
E: 4.9 mi.
SW: 8.1 mi. (mountains)
Center:
Medical clinic
Town Hall
Schools
Residential
Much of Cliffshire is residential living. They have closer access to clean water than Riverdale, but have little space for agriculture. With the swift dwindling of supplies, they quickly became militant, strictly rationing the little food they had or could gain from their scavenging crews, sent out to small towns that had been hit by radiation and died out (which are not in short supply). As its raiding parties ventured further and further from the town, they eventually ran into other parties, these from Riverdale. At first, they attempted to cooperate; unfortunately, Riverdale’s reticence and Cliffshire’s greed clashed, resulting in a bitter hatred between the towns. Their respective citizens have met in combat more than once, resulting in the loss of human, mundane, and pokémon lives.
Government exists in Cliffshire, but it is primarily a place of martial law. There is no reliable electric power; it is for that reason that they have turned their hungry eyes to Riverdale, forty miles to the southwest of them. In addition, they have open communications with Woodmount, the final town with any clout. Despite poor relations, the two have tried to get Riverdale to join them against Glenville, and after meeting with failure several times, have recently begun threatening with their stockpiled military might. It is only a matter of time before tensions explode into open warfare among the towns.
Woodmount
Population: 2 600
Dimensions:
Diamter: 5 mi.
Center:
Military barracks
Medical clinic
DETAIL:
......._______.......
..../..................
...|............t...|....
...|...mBC......|....
.....t............/....
.....-------......
m=mess hall
B=barracks
C=clinic
t=trading post
---- = city boundaries; guard towers (crow's nests) at the eight points of the compass rose
- = primary entrance/exit
The people of Woodmount are proud of their history. Immediately after the Calamity, they convinced the survivors in a nearby military base to join them on top of their hill, surrounded by forests. The proposal was met grudgingly, but the offer of food was more than the soldiers there could resist. The citizens swiftly fell under the command of the soldiers, who abandoned them a year later to join a separate military base many miles away. The people were unwilling to leave, because at the time, it was ridiculous to assume a town of nine thousand could just pack up and walk or drive as far as the soldiers planned on going. Some stayed behind and were able to witness as starvation took its toll. Riverdale offered aid, but the town was filled with war veterans who would not accept the idea of leaving the place they had grown up in. Many “defected” to better living, but many more stayed, operating similar to Cliffshire. Military thought prevailed in the end, just as it seemed the community would collapse. They are the most militarily powerful town in the area, and have proven it by taking hostages from Glenville (forty miles northeast) and Riverdale (fifty miles southeast) when they send caravans. Riverdale has cut off communications with them, despite ongoing attempts at “unification.”
Note: maps of more specific locations (i.e., schools, office buildings, etc.) will be provided when necessary.
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Posted: Sat Jul 18, 2009 12:39 pm
The Present
It has been six years since the Calamity. Though it doesn't matter too much to you, the safest places to live include: Siberia, Sub-Saharan Africa, the Arctic Circle, Antarctica, the forests of Canada, the Australian Outback, the western areas of Tibet, the Himalayas, South American rainforests, and under ground. The most dangerous places to live are: within a one thousand-mile radius of Japan, inland China, the U.S., Mexico, most of Europe (France, the UK, Germany, Spain, Poland, Switzerland, and Italy), western Russia, northern Africa, and India.
Because all of the characters have not yet been decided, the plot is also a little hazy. Most importantly, small communities of humans within the populated countries survived. Because I as GM do not want to have posts cluttered with gibberish (read: accents and dialect), the country of choice is the USA.
It did not take long, during the years following the disaster, for word to spread that areas of high population density were the most susceptible to further explosions. Few people like to talk about the Dallas incident, in which tens of thousands of people flooded a football stadium seeking shelter, only for the entire structure to violently destroy itself, consuming everyone present in a blazing firestorm.
Interestingly, at least to the surviving scientists, there do seem to be elemental ramifications involved in the catastrophes. Northern areas that did not undergo the nuclear reactions would occasionally freeze over due to the extraordinary numbers of ice and water pokémon. Certain places fell to earthquakes from surpluses of rock or grass pokémon; one suffered a tremendous efflux of electricity, which of course killed every citizen. This indicates almost definitely that the mew’s brainwaves elicit an ethereal response as they resonate with humans and pokémon.
Most importantly, once the electromagnetic chaos of the first explosions wore off, global telecommunications resumed with as great force as the remaining citizens could muster. While cooperation among cities, states, and countries was heavily encouraged, fear of breaching critical population density (which has not yet been empirically determined) has driven most communities into a fiercely protective state, carefully controlling the headcount within the city at all times.
Needless to say, there has been no scarcity of infighting, and no scarcity of assaults on cities. Cities hold food supplies, which are rare commodities in some areas of the world. Many street gangs have learned that most city “governments” keep themselves underpopulated, just to be safe. Armed with that reasoning, it is relatively common for there to be armed attacks on storerooms throughout cities as outsiders attempt to survive. Some “veterans” will find themselves in these positions. These veterans are generally tough, hardened survivalists who have learned their own ways to survive in the six years of fear and desolation that encompassed the globe. They live with their motorcycles or on their feet, traveling from city to city, always running from those who would repel them, always fighting those who have the gas and victuals to keep them going, and always defending against the lone men and pokémon who have been left deformed and crazed by the world around them.
To some extent, utilities are still intact, but many have begun failing without organizations to maintain them. Radiation poisoning, cancer, and other effects of the fallout have claimed many lives. Obviously, the safest food lies in boxes and cans, as does the safest water. Public water mains have even remained clean in the luckiest cities, of which Glenville, Idaho is one. That is where three of our “young-uns” will start their journey.
As for the “old geezer(s)”: these are men who have lived their lives well, and lived them long. They are retired scientist who knew the late Professor Oak and received packages from her following her death. They live in (one of) three cities that the surviving Drs. Oak (her sons) would like to contact from their own home in Glenville, using the young-uns as messengers and carriers for packages.
Unrest has been growing, recently, in the wild animals, pokémon, and humans now populating what is known as the wilderness. Usually skittish and lonely, these individuals have been forming larger and larger “packs” as they roam, like less organized versions of the street gangs. They feed off their own weak and dying, but are deadly in groups all the same; reports have reached the larger cities of entire towns run down by thirty- or forty-member packs. It is in the face of this unrest that our story unfolds.
Humanity has been decimated by the greatest calamity to strike Earth in written history. A single pokémon, a possible progenitor of hundreds of species, appears to have been left in place specifically for this purpose. Being who you are, live on. With civilization reduced to tribes, we must continue. A world of animal hunting and surviving has been produced from thriving metropolises and centers of learning and humanity; we must rise again, from these ashes. Prometheus’ gift to us has been scattered; reclaim it!
You are each of you a cinder, ready to burn.
P.S. Anyone who dares to use the phrase "I choose you" in this RP will be obliterated by "random" psychic pulses from the mew. Just to let you know.
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Posted: Sat Jul 18, 2009 8:57 pm
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Posted: Sat Jul 18, 2009 11:14 pm
Other Informatione.g., SCIENCEThis section is dedicated to the science and history of this universe. Much of what is here will be contributed by the players' posts and their explanations for why their pokémon and characters can do what they can. TECHNOLOGY: Pokéballs, technical machines, and hidden machines are all technical advances made in the realm of ether, but there are more. Other will be added to this section as they are "invented" either by me or the players. -Pokéballs: These items work by converting a pokémon into pure ether and condensing that energy into a very small space. They respond the the ether already in a pokémon, and so cannot be used to capture people or mundane animals. If a pokéball were to be destroyed by physical means while holding a pokémon, the pokémon would be released; if by ethereal means, the creature would likely be damaged or even killed. While in a pokéball, a pokémon slowly regains its ether and even more slowly is physically healed by the replenishment of that ether by that particular means. Pokéballs also "tag" their resident pokémon with a software/ether fusion, so that no one pokémon can be captured by two pokéballs. -Technical Machines: This is an ether-infused program contained in a one-use "black box" of software and ether. Operating it in the vicinity of a compatible pokémon releases the ether and transfers the programmed technique to the pokémon. They are able to teach third-generation techniques to pokémon found in North America; this is the only way for those pokémon to learn such techniques. -Psychic Scope: This is an eyepiece that any psychic pokémon can utilize to project its psychic abilities across distances. -WPB (water pressure bazooka): Blastoises can be fitted with these to turn their water cannons into into missile launchers. -Ether sink (amber): Any pokémon is capable of passively storing its ether in amber for the purpose of later use. Frequent use of amber can damage its storage capacity. SOCIAL DICTATES: As with all things, these are necessarily fluid societal concepts. -Human/Pokémon Combat: It is considered taboo for a human to attack another human's pokémon, much in the same way you would never attack someone else's dog (unless, of course, it was attacking you). The reverse also holds true (in the general case, obviously): because humans have no ethereal defenses, it is considered taboo for a human to order a pokémon to attack another human. So in a situation where two trainers were really out for one another's blood, they might be shooting at one another while the pokémon fought. It would then be considered more than a little evil to have the winner's pokémon take down the losing human. -Trainers (Profession): Unlike in the Pokémon show, children are not sent out at age ten on their own with a backpack and a few pokéballs to brave a world of wild animals, creepy adults, and gangs. Rather, pokémon training is much like any other non-academic pursuit, like sports or a specialized vocation (car mechanic, chef, etc.). Those who are not suited for college or even for all the years of high school and who have an affinity for pokémon can become veterinarians, breeders, trainers, or the like. There are Gyms and competitions for trainers... or there were until the Calamity. (Note: None of these are canonical gyms, just to prevent confusion.) - GEOGRAPHY: First- and second-generation pokémon are found naturally in the Americas and Europe, and therefore know techniques according to the places they were raised. Third-generation pokémon are found primarily in Africa and the Middle East, including India; they therefore know different techniques - that is, the third-generation moveset. MILITARY: Pokémon are very much in use in the military. Below are a few examples: -Blastoises equipped with torpedo launchers are exceedingly effective submarine units. -One of the greater challenges in Vietnam was avoiding the victreebell camouflaged in the forests. One was reported to take out all but one member of a guerilla squad before the survivor's magmar lit the place up. -Diglett, dugtrio, and onix are in high demand as high-speed tunnelers. They can loosen the earth in an area and form a cavern to allow for collapse of that cavern. -Psychic pokémon can be used to set up relay systems for quickly sending messages; at the same time, they can be used to intercept and manipulate those messages. ETHER: Pokémon recover ether little by little just by staying alive. They recover it somewhat faster while in pokéballs, and very quickly while resting or sleeping. Because of a force not yet fully understood, an ethereal action cannot usually be initiated within another pokémon; that is, a fire cannot be lit in the opponent's chest cavity, excepting cases of truly extraordinary power. Mundane organisms do not share this immunity, and the effect appears to be somewhat limited; that is, a psychic-type pokémon can still telekinetically lift opponents. More must be learned about this series of phenomena. Ether, much like magnetism, exists in a field that recovers its original state of flux by countering negative and positive changes wrought in it. On its own, ether exists in a pure, non-elemental state. Once gathered for use by any object, pokémon or man-made, it takes on an elemental tinge; from where these elements originate, science has yet to discover. Psychic pokémon come closest to using pure ether and dark pokémon use a sort of inverted ether known as nether. Even physical attacks appear to be charged elementally. These different charges react differently to one another depending on what elements are involved. Ether, like radiation, builds up in organisms over time. Thus, older human beings, pokémon, and even plants and fungi have higher concentrations of ether and thus a stronger ether field. In addition, younger organisms are more prone to ether manipulation; for example, a young child is much more likely to become confused by a psychic attack than a crotchety old man. In terms of the density-dependent component of the maelstroms resultant of the Calamity, the young and elderly are the most vulnerable; the young because of their sensitivity, and the elderly because of their high level of ether accumulation. ABILITIES: Charmander-basic tooth and claw work -fire breathing -tail super-ignition Butterfree-various pollen attacks -ether shields Beedrill-fires poison-tipped stingers Pidgeot-basic beak and claw work -summons winds and directs them towards an enemy Rattata-basic tooth and claw work Spearow-basic beak and claw work -intimidating stare Pikachu-basic tooth, claw, and tail work -chain lightning Ninetales-fires a jet of flame from its mouth Zubat-basic bite -confusing and stunning sonic waves Primape-boxing techniques Poliwag-basic tackle and body slam -spits jets of water -weak hypnotic ability Abra-weak telepathy -teleportation of self and others Alakazam-fires darts of pure ether (psychic-type) at the enemies -fluent telepathy -bending the wind -teleportation of self and others -ether shield Tentacruel-shoots paralyzing poison Geodude-basic fist work -minor levitation -producing and hurling boulders Ponyta-strikes with hooves harder than diamond -bursts of speed Rapidash-strikes with hooves harder than diamond -bursts of speed Magnemite-reverses magnetic poles to drop quickly -Tesla-esque bolt; can be sustained as a laser Farfetch'dHaunter-moderately hypnotizes and damage an enemy with a ray of unlight Gengar-vanishes into shadows and manipulate opponents' minds -briefly superimposes its body over opponents' -solidifies itself for physical blows Drowzee-illusions Hypno-fluent telepathy -powerful illusions Exeggcute-weak telepathy -illusions Rhyhorn-basic charge Mr. Mime-weak telepathy -basic melée -telekinesis Electabuzz-lightning blast -intimidating roar Ditto-shapeshifting Eevee-basic tooth and claw work -momentary bursts of agility Vaporeon-produces a slow-moving bubble that severely (water) damages anything within its radius upon combustion Jolteon-dashes from spot to spot faster than the eye can follow -pours electricity from its body into a creature touching it Meganium-absorbs light to heal itself -poison pollen (some species) -summons leaves Espeon-confuses an opponent by penetrating its psyche (empathy risk) -moderate telepathy -moderate teleportation -sends a pulse of psychic ether like a wave at the opponent Unown-advanced multi-sensory illusions -other psychic trickery AipomHoundour-basic tooth and claw work -venomous gas (precursor to fire) -breathing fire Houndoom-basic tooth and claw work -dark-infused bite -fear-inducing bark Octillery-fires jets of water Zigzagoon-basic tooth and claw work TYPES: This is for the specifics of particular types of pokémon. -Psychic: These pokémon share a weak physical and mental empathy with those upon whom they use their ethereal attacks. For this reason, psychic pokémon who have killed are treated with special caution, assuming they are mentally sound after the experience, and are oftentimes put down, for their own good and the safety of others. Psychic pokémon are also slightly capable of feeling the ether flux in areas nearby them. -Dark: These pokémon utilize not a "flavor" of regular ether, like other types, but rather nether, a sort of inverse of ether. SPECIES: This is for the specifics of particular species of pokémon. -Eevee: Perhaps as a side-effect of eevee's elemental flexibility when it comes to evolution, all eevee, perhaps more so than other normal-type pokémon, are capable of greater use of ice, water, fire, electric, grass, psychic, and dark-type ethereal attacks. One facet of this is slightly increased empathy with the eevee's human master. -Ditto: The majority of this creature's existence actually occurs outside of the visible plane. Its body is a projection of the vast quantities of ether that it normally has stored in the ethereal plane, where the Mew once spoke with the PC Elian Joss (bottom of the page). The quick utilization of vast quantities of ether to change shape is why the creature generally needs to actually be looking at a shape to mimic it properly; otherwise it simply requires too much brainpower. In addition, the tremendous presence on the ethereal plain explains its ability to also mimic the physical and ethereal behaviors of its targets. -Magnemite: As we all know, ether is a force used by organic creatures. Obviously, magnemites must therefore have organic matter. In fact, this is the case. Magnemites (and magnetons, by extension) are composed of a relatively thin steel sphere surrounding an organic brain. Its metabolic processes (primarily directing itself towards food and defending itself) are fueled entirely by redox reactions carried out at the "screw holes," which in fact take in oxygen and release carbon dioxide. Other metabolites are sought out and gathered when a magnemite colony decides to expand, and of course are otherwise merely recycled; the full process of "birth" is not fully understood. Death by old age occurs by rusting and weakening of the shell from both the inside and outside.
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Posted: Sat Jul 18, 2009 11:15 pm
Announcements06-03-2010: REVIVAL! 07-20-2009: There have been minor edits to the "Character Creation" section. 08-07-2009: There have been more minor edits to the "Character Creation" section and some clarifiers in the "Gameplay" section. 08-11-2009: There has been a major addition to the "Background" section. 08-23-2009: The "Gameplay" section has been edited to include only pokémon in the "Health" section. It should be easy enough for players to understand their characters' ailments. 09-01-2009: There has been a major deletion from the "Health" section of "Gameplay." There is no longer a point system, for ease of play. 09-09-2009: Start date is set for Sept. 19, 2009! Girder your garters, ladies and gents!09-14-2009: There have been relatively minor edits to the "Maps" section; Cliffshire and Woodmount have switched locations: Cliffshire is the easternmost town, and Woodmount is westernmost. 09-19-2009: It begins.09-20-09: We have been moved to the SDRP "Level 3 RP's" forum. Yay! 10-07-09: Updated pokémon abilities in the Other Information section. 10-25-09: Updated various Other Information items. 11-06-09: Messed around with Temp Characters rules. 11-28-09: Significant changes to Temp Characters rules. Some time ago: indefinite hiatus 06-02-10: It begins anew06-14-10: Changes to AP granting 12-11-10: We now have an OoC thread. Visit it and feel loved.
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Posted: Sat Jul 18, 2009 11:16 pm
Awesome Points
Before I start, the credit for this concept goes to Venom (with some numbers appended), who runs 27.
The way this works is as follows: awesome RP-ing and awesome pseudoscience lead to awesome points. AP can be spent on the rewards as described above. This is a rather fluid system, so here are some normalizing costs:
1 AP: do something kinda cool and a little unrealistic
2 AP: "magically" find a potion or basic pokéball
5 AP: first-stage pokémon capture; discover a TM
10 AP: first-stage pokémon evolution
15 AP: second-stage pokémon capture
25 AP: second-stage pokémon evolution
Not all of them have to do with your pokémons' states, but those are really easy examples to give. Everyone starts with 5 AP (except for people who have already done cool things). When you want to use them, highlight the section you wanted to use them for in red and I will step in and Hand-of-God-ish-ly "approve," and also leave a record of how you spent it so the other players know what's going on. Below are listed AP quantities thus far.
Caleidah: 21
Enradus: 14
Isa-sama: 36
Jokerman-EXE: 28
KaosHavok: 18
lily564a: 17
Mr. Blackbird Lore: 33
NativeForeigner: 11
o-Angilis-o: 36
Rhm Kinomoto: 10
Shaula Al Nair: 58
SirBayer: 30
Windfiar: 12
Xitemo: 11
If I forget to update this page, please, please, please PM me and remind me.
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Posted: Sat Jul 18, 2009 11:17 pm
Other characters that were not able to be posted above. Windfiar Ryan E. Ramsden (Veteran, 25), Erin (Scyther), Zips (Magneton) Ryan opened the door to the warehouse he'd been hiding in for a while. "Erin, come on. Standard routine." He said, his hand on the back of his Scyther's neck. Erin went off to search the left side, Ryan went to search the right. Thieves had come around from time to time to ambush him and take his collection of necessities and general possessions along with tools, so they always inspected the warehouse; or as Ryan called it, the Hangar Bay. He was a man of average height standing at 5' 10" with red-orange hair that extended to the back of his neck while his sideburns draped the end of his ears and the rest of his hair was built up on his head, yet it was thin. His eyes were a pale blue, the left one specked with gold in the lower left corner. He wore very thin, black framed glasses, the right arm beginning to wear causing small cuts behind his ear during times of struggle. His build was fooling to anyone who hadn't fought with him before. From mere looks, he appeared weak. No muscle really protruded from his arms, he wasn't big at all really. His muscle was lean however, and his strength was there. Working on Naval aircraft for a few years will build that muscle though. He wore a blue Navy AM T-shirt along with a pair of blue jeans and a black dress shirt with white pin-stripes unbuttoned and un-tucked, along with a black belt sporting an AM belt buckle. On the back of the dress-shirt he had sewn the patch for Petty Officer Second Class with the AM specialty mark in the middle on. His shoes were more athletic than stylish, but they were rather beat up. They were getting old at two years, but they still did what they needed to do so he saw no reason to discard them. "Anything over there Erin." He called after he had verified that the right side was clear. He noticed the M500 with the boxes of ammo still on the wall. Good. I'd hate to lose that... "Scyther..." Came her response in a calm and low voice, stating a 'no'. "Good. Let's see what we can do with this then." He turned to face his project going on 4 months now. A semi busted-up Navy F/A-18E Super Hornet fighter jet. 10 Years ago, he was deployed on the USS Nimitz working on these every day. Before that, he gave his 2nd Classes and 1st Classes a hand with them. Fixing them, maintaining them, obsessing over any corrosion found. He knew Super Hornets better than any other plane. He still couldn't believe how he had got it to the Hangar Bay. He managed to find a trainer with two Machamps, so he offered him some food and ammunition if they carried the Super Hornet to the warehouse, so they accepted and brought it over. "The fuselage is still pretty ******** up near the wing on the right side. We can't do anything with it until we get more safety wire though, and we're out of rivets as well. Did you check the junkyard?" Scyther shook her head, "Zips checking now." She said. Ryan had taught his Scyther how to speak very basic English. It took several weeks, several hours every day, but Erin eventually picked up some key words and phrases. She still wasn't speaking in full sentences, but Ryan didn't think that would ever happen. "How long has he been gone?" "2 hours maybe." "You think he's okay? I mean he normally comes back when he can't find anything useful, and that usually is decided by him in less than an hour... I'll go check on him. Stay here and guard Shorn." Shron was what they had decided to call the plane. F/A-18E would've been to long to say, and Super Hornet shared the same problem. So they took the S from super and horn from hornet to give it a nickname. Ryan left the Hangar Bay and started on the half-mile trek to the Junkyard. He sent Zips out there once a day to do a patrol for rivets, screws, nuts, bolts, tools, nitrogen, large pieces of aluminum and magnesium, anything that could be used to fix Shorn. He ran to save time and make sure he stayed in shape, so it only took him about five minutes to get to the Junkyard due to the rubble and debris everywhere. When he arrived, he saw Zips hovering about, using its static to attach small parts onto itself, and a large chunk of aluminum on one of its magnets. "ZIPS!" Ryan called, causing Zips to turn around and look at him and, upon looking at him, sped off towards him. Zips stopped a few inches from Ryan showing off what he had found. Ryan checked Zips' body for everything he had collected. "Oh awesome! You found a s**t-ton of stuff. Rivets! We've been needing those! Oh damn! Good job Zips. Damn good job." He started walking back, but didn't stop the praise. He was a firm believer that if you treated your pokemon better than you treated others, they get stronger quicker, and are far more likely to push past their threshold and be stronger than even they think. When they came back to the Hangar Bay, Erin was hovering around, just making sure everything was still clean and no one came in who wasn't supposed to. When he re-entered the Hangar Bay with Zips following him, Erin flew over to him, happy to be with him again. Both of his Pokemon didn't like being away, but Zips knew what a help it was to have him scour the Junkyard, and he liked the praise he received every day when he found something, even just one little rivet or a smidgen of safety wire, or even nothing, just trying. "So," Ryan said, looking at Shorn, "Let's fix that fuselage." NativeForeigner Jeremiah Hosborn (Veteran, 32); Ewe (“U” unown) and Loki (murkrow) Jeremiah is jumping down from a nearby rooftop into an alley filled with several Mankeys. He holds a cut-down, .44 Winchester Model 1892 shotgun in his right hand, and the end of a rope in the other. His black, leather Aussie hat flapped in the wind has he fell, but stayed firmly atop his head. He landed firmly, the sound of his boots impacting concrete echoed loudly throughout the alley, causing many of the Mankeys to turn. He wore a mad grin on his face as he looked up. He had a strong chin covered with unkempt growth and his brown eyes were covered by tinted tortoiseshell glasses. He let out a curt laugh as he gave a tug on the rope he had been holding on to. Something above could be heard snapping and was quickly followed by a hail of cinderblocks, metal scraps, and other debris crashing down atop the Pokémon, crushing many, but not all of them. The others charged towards Jeremiah, enraged. He gleefully brought his hands, both covered with fingerless, leather gloves, to his shotgun and pulled the trigger, sending the nearest Mankey flying back with a newfound hole in it’s body. He fired again and again, grinning and laughing the whole way through. They started getting closer, he needed to reload. But he didn’t. Instead, Jeremiah holstered the weapon at his thigh and pulled the aluminum baseball bat previously attached to the back of dark green, collared vest and held the weapon high as he swung, knocking a Mankey into the wall. “Homerun!” he called ecstatically as he swung again, this time downwards, upon another Mankey, slamming it into the ground and striking it two or three more times. “They’re like little basketballs!” he announced, laughing to himself and he discarded the now badly bent bat. He pulled his scoped .44 magnum from his left hip and planted a bullet into the each of the Mankey’s he had just bludgeoned before holstering the weapon again. He laughed for a moment more before sighing. Jeremiah placed his thumb and index finger to his lips and whistled loudly. From above the rooftop he himself had jumped from came flying Loki, a murkrow, who perched himself on Jeremiah’s shoulder. Shortly following Loki was a Ewe, U-shaped unown who came to float quietly beside Jeremiah. Jeremiah patted Ewe and scratched Loki’s beak. He sighed solemnly and dipped his head. Loki, knowing what was wrong, rubbed his head against Jeremiah’s. Jeremiah forced a smile, looked at Loki, and placed a hand on the murkrow’s crests. “You miss him too, don’t you, boy?” Loki nodded sadly. Jeremiah held the murkrow close for a moment before releasing and patting Loki’s head, “It’ll be okay…you just have to enjoy the little things.” Jeremiah turned to face Ewe, “How you doin’, little buddy?” Ewe put off a light, almost purring sound and had an almost sympathetic in it’s eye. Jeremiah smiled and pulled it closer. “You know, I could have left you back there in the rubble where I found you, but I didn’t, because I liked you, and you know what? I’m glad I didn’t.” he smiled and Ewe chipped up noticeably. “I may hate Pokémon, but you two are different from any other. Now let’s go find someplace else to set up camp.” Jeremiah brushed off his grey, fitted jeans, straightened out his red shirt, rolled up his sleeves, and adjusted his Aussie hat before heading out of the alley with Loki and Ewe. o-Angilis-o -Elian Joss (veteran); and Aislin (espeon)- A pair of clouded eyes stared motionlessly ahead as a lone figure sat in the medical clinic, the rusty wheelchair sitting easily out of the way within the shallow, pristine hallway as doctors, nurses and all the like shuffled quickly and quietly by. Only one or two individuals managed to nod at the figure, yet it was only because of their forgetfulness that they even nodded in the first place. Elian, sitting up straight as her head hung downward in thought, kept her blind gaze focused easily on nothing as her hand lovingly stroked the purple, shimmering fur of the Espeon in her lap. The twenty five year old sat straight in her wheelchair, almost as motionless as her eyes, the only true source of movement coming from a long, swishing, forked tail that rocked easily back and forth from the slumbering Pokemon that had laid itself down upon her lap, a light melody of purring ringing in Elian's trained and heightened ears as a smile crossed her lips. One figure, his footsteps as identifiable as his fingerprint could ever be, approached and quietly stood beside the wheelchair, his pen scribbling quickly onto the pad in his hands before he dropped his arms to focus on Elian. Raising her head, Elian turned her gaze in his general direction, her small smile growing ever so slightly. Without a word, the gentleman gently took the back of the wheelchair and slowly started to push her down the hall, the wheels squeaking with every motion. It was almost comforting in a way, being pushed around by that man in a noisy wheelchair. He always took her to where she needed to be, or where she wanted to be, and she never ended up lost or in a place that was unfamiliar. The only uncertainty was for how long they would walk, sometimes it was an hour, sometimes five minutes, either way, Elian (and she was sure, the gentleman) enjoyed their silent strolls as much as the other. With time to think, Elian started to slouch a bit, resting comfortably in the wheelchair as her mind started to wander. Her hand slowly halted in her lap to rest atop the still slumbering Espeon, the Pokemon undisturbed by the movement or even the changing noises around it. Six months had passed since the incident, and even then it felt like an eternity. Although recently, things had seemed brighter, Elian had experienced many dark and depressing days before this point, her mind reflecting on what she had experienced, encountered, and what was endured not only through the past six months, but in the years before. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~ A small farm sat in the warm, basking glow of the summer sun, the simple wooden fences and carefully painted wood of the house leaving the small area in a sort of comforting hue. Along the perimeter of the ranch laid wide open fields, all wonderfully padded in lush, beautiful grass that seemed to stay green all year. In the distance, the heavy, thundering gallop of Ponyta and Rapidash rumbled through the ground, leaving an even more comforting feel to the already warm area. Not only was the ranch beautiful, but it seemed alive. ~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The Espeon in Elian's lap hardly stirred, yet its tail seemed to twitch as a tired, dark eye opened to observe its surroundings. Shaken from her daydream, Elian suddenly whipped her hand down to the wheel of the wheelchair, the gentleman letting out a slight grunt as he was halted from his slow, steady stroll. He only looked down to Elian in confusion for a moment before a nurse, carrying a tray load of needles and other equipment, stumbled lightly through the doorway that was directly in front of them, but luckily, caught herself in the space in front of her before anything happened. With a light sigh, the woman, looking to the two, said a quiet, giggling apology at her clumsiness before she continued to move through the clinic. Elian, her eyes unmoved from the spot in front of her, slowly let go of the wheel of the chair, and returned her hand to the Espeon in her lap. "Thanks Aislin..." She whispered, almost inaudibly as a quiet, meowing noise came from the Pokemon, the tired creature returning back into a deep sleep as the wheelchair was lightly pushed back into a slow stride. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~ "Daddy! That one is so fast!" Elian cried, giggling happily on the shoulders of her father as she pointed to a small Ponyta that sprinted happily in front of its brothers, the wild, licking flames of its mane glistening through the sunlight. With a low chuckle, the husky, tall man gently lifted the small girl from his shoulders and set her down on the fence. Elian whined a bit, but was silenced as her father lifted a finger, motioning her to "give him one second" before he brought two pinkies to his lips and whistled. The sound carried across the field, and almost immediately, the small herd of Ponyta turned their anxious heads towards the noise, then galloped happily towards the pair. The thundering rumble of their hooves were unmatched by the pace of the one in front, who seemed to be able to outrun any size Pokemon with a single stride. Upon reaching the fence, the herd happily clamoured around the two, whinnying and snorting happily as the man chuckled and produced a bushel of carrots. Elian, still sitting happily upon the fence, petted the Rapidash that sniffed at her face, the girl being about as tall as the Pokemon only when sitting on the fence itself.
"Hey now! Back up a bit you clumsy thing!" The father chuckled as he held out a carrot for the taller Pokemon, the Rapidash happily taking the carrot before turning away from the small herd of Ponyta, satisfied with its earnings. Elian, now free of attention, held out her small hands for a carrot as it was handed to her, and quickly, held it out for the little Ponyta that bounded happily in front of them, snorting and trotting anxiously as it waited for a treat. Upon seeing it offered, the little Ponyta quickly moved over and nearly jumped up at Elian, but knew better, and hungrily chomped down on the carrot, Elian giggling audibly before reaching her hand down to pet the Pokemon.
"So, what're ya gonna call him Ellie?" The man chuckled as he started to hand out carrots to the rest of the small herd, Elian smiling down at the excitable Pokemon as it snorted happily with its meal.
"Hummm..." The little girl said as she started to think, her brilliant blue eyes staring down at the Ponyta. Letting go of the last of the carrot, she watched the Pokemon eat it, giggling as it sneezed at the last second of munching.
"I like Aden." Elian decided, the Ponyta raising its head as if knowing it was being talked about. Jumping down from the fence, Elian reached her hands through, as if offering to hug the Pokemon. The Ponyta stared before nuzzling its snout into her hand, licking a slimy tongue over her fingers as Elian giggled wildly.
Chuckling the father took off his hat and leaned against the fence, watching as the rest of the Ponyta galloped off to find the Rapidash, the small herd running happily together through the lush field that laid before them.
"That sounds like a fine name." ~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Another twitch had Elian once again back at attention, The Espeon's black, searching eyes staring out ahead of them as Elian looked in the same direction. Without a word, she lowered her hands to the wheels and pushed them forward, the gentleman knowing better than to stop her as he let go and followed. Elian turned down a few hallways, the Espeon now sitting straight in her lap as it focused itself forward, only glancing around once in a while to check its usual surroundings. Eventually, she reached a deserted part of the clinic, the lights even turned off as the section readied to be closed down for the night. Nearby, a loud chorus of pounding and shouting reached Elian's ears, her hands gently pulling at the wheels of the chair until she reached her destination. Flicking the doorknob of the door to unlock it, she wheeled herself back and stared motionlessly ahead as a man came stumbling from the room, glancing around as if he had no clue as to where he was. "Oh thank God. I didn't think I'd ever be let out of there." He panted, glancing back to the supply closet he had managed to lock himself in. Looking down to Elian, and Aislin, he tilted his head curiously, then shook his head as he dismissed his thoughts. "W-well, thank you miss. I owe you one!" The young man said as he scratched the back of his head, Elian giving him a small smile before the previous gentleman had caught up and took a hold of her wheelchair. Elian smiled pleasantly and gave the young man a small nod, the nervous boy smiling before bidding them thanks and farewell. Chuckling, the older man shook his head and began to push the wheelchair, directing Elian towards her usual route. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~"You can't take him! I wont let you!" A much older Elian cried as Aden stomped and kicked at the trailer that kept him from her, the other ranchers struggling to keep the Rapidash in line.
"Listen... Kid... I hate to do this but we don't have a choice. With all of these attacks and the poisoning... We need to start some sort of army, and we need a cavalry, and your ranch is only one of many that has been drafted to produce Pokemon. Think of it this way, your Pokemon is doing more to protect you now than he ever has." With a sad sigh, the man turned away, walking towards the vehicle that would tow away her friend forever. Wrenching herself free of her elderly father's grasp, she ran towards the man, quickly turning him around to face her tear stained expression.
"Where can I see him? He wont be of any use to anyone if I'm not there!" she yelled, having to take slow breaths to keep herself from sobbing. With another heavy sigh, the man shook his head.
"In the Calvary my dear. That's where you'll find him." Without another word, the man stepped inside the truck and closed the door, placing the vehicle in drive before towing the large trailer away. Crying, Elian ran after the truck, despite her father's yelling protests from behind.
"Aden! Aden it's okay! I'll come find you!" She cried to the whinnying Rapidash that continued to kick and stomp at the door. Once she was out of breath, Elian collapsed to her knees, sobbing uncontrollably as her father finally managed to catch up and attempt to comfort her. ~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Eeeeroow" Aislin called up to Elian before leaning itself against her torso, Elian snapping once more from her memories as her pale eyes looked downward towards the Espeon. The Pokemon purred audibly, Elian cracking a small smile as she ran her hand along its fur, sighing a soft sigh as she was once again brought back to reality, back to Aislin and the clinic. Leaning down, Elian lightly kissed the top of the Pokemon's head, above the gem that laid in its forehead. Staring at each other, Elian gazed not at Aislin, but at herself. She saw long strands of hair that hung past her shoulders, small strands of brown locks mingling with pristine white hair that flowed gracefully like normal hair, yet grew uneven at one side. Her eyes were pale and faded, fair skin and features highlighting what was left of Elian's former spirit. Only one unnatural imperfection remained apparent since the incident; A small strand of stitches expanded across her eyebrow and disappeared into her hairline, extending all the way across her scalp underneath the shorter part of her hair. Six months since that day, six months retired from the Cavalry after only having one field job, and only six months since she had lost a dear friend. Six months since she had gained a new one; although never a replacement, remained a lifesaver, and a companion Elian would hold dear for the rest of her life. KaosHavok Abraham Renwald (veteran); Flicker (Scyther) and Porygon2 (Porygon2) OUTComiCazeCartoons Damon Zarrox (veteran); Rex (cubone), Thyst (smeargle) Damon was an artist before the disaster. Despite his tall stature, underneath lied a kind heart that aspired to be a cartoonist. Nothing would make him feel happier than when he was face deep in a new drawing with only his imaginative prowess to accompany him. His second choice of possible work was to be a pokemon researcher. Damon was in no way a fighter, and in fact avoided violent conflict whenever deemed unnecessary. It was for that very reason he refused to be a pokemon trainer. He understood the importance of fighting when in self-defense, pokemon or otherwise. Even a playful duel between friends or rivals was understandable, but many of the pokemon battles he viewed seemed simply barbaric in his eyes. He had no interest using animals as flashy destructive tools made to somehow reflect his own power. He was much more interested in learning about them; how they live, how they evolved, how their anatomy works, how they're able to do the amazing things that we all seem to take for granted. He truly loved all forms of life and believed in the goodness found within all of us. He saw no need for violence when reason could take its place. However, at the age of fourteen, the need for action would call for him in a pinnacle moment in his life. It was a chilly dusk when Damon was walking home that night. He turned to hear voices coming from a nearby alley way. Curiosity enticed him see what was happening, he quickly wished it didn't. Five men, a little older than him, were beating a small pokemon to death. Damon was fearful at first, but soon felt nothing but wave of pure anger sweep over him. He couldn't comprehend how in spite of society's growing maturity and tolerance how some people can be so cruel, so heartless, so inhuman. Rage overtook him at the sight of monsters that work so hard to keep the world from becoming a better place. Without thinking, Damon's arm reached down, grabbed a lead pipe from the ground, and threw it at one of the thugs. It spiraled through the air before colliding with one man's face. The rest of them immediately stopped at crackling sound of his broken jaw. Damon sprinted towards them screaming at the top of his lungs "GET AWAY FROM IT YOU F***ING COWARDS!!!". A torrent of shock poured over them. Damon's anger began to dissipate after they hastily retreated. He then turned and looked down at the beaten pokemon, and became horrified. It was a marowak, bloody, broken, and not breathing. It wasn't sick, it wasn't sleeping. It was dead. Grief fell upon him, but before he had a chance to shed a tear, he heard a small whimpering sound coming from a few feet away. Behind a nearby dumpster was a small cubone. The helpless thing was crying profusely. It was just a baby, and it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what happened. The gang must have wanted to capture the cubone, so the mother died protecting her offspring. The infant cubone looked up at Damon and became terrified. It saw a tall man with messy dark brown hair. He wore a long red and black scarf, and a a black shirt with a skull on it. Over his shirt he wore a large dark purple coat, black gloves with white fingers, regular looking blue jeans, and worn out black sneakers. The poor cubone must have thought Damon was one of the gang members, for it began crying much more excessively immediately after seeing him. Damon knelt down to the infant and wrapped his coat around it to shield it from the cold. He picked the cubone up and held it close to him in his arms. Damon then spoke softly to the cubone. "Listen to my words. You were born into a world that isn't always fair. A world where sometimes villains thrive and heroes suffer. A world filled with sorrow, pain, death, and the bad people who cause it. I guess I don't need to tell you that though, since you experienced it first-hand." Tears began to roll down Damon's face as he looked back at the lifeless corpse of the cubone's mother. The cubone looked up at Damon, beginning to see him for his kind and caring heart. The cubone began to calm down a bit, and started listening more intently to Damon as he continued, "I am so sorry that you had to see evil being brought upon you, especially at such a young age, but please believe me when I say that the world is still filled with good people who do good things. It's very unfortunate that evil had to visit you, but at least you were lucky enough to have good come to your aid. Just like I was lucky enough to be that good." The cubone's tears slowly halted as it closed its eyes and cautiously rested its head on Damon's chest. As it slowly drifted to an uneasy sleep, Damon lowered his head to the cubone and whispered "You're gonna be ok. I'll take care of you. I'm never going to let anything bad happen to you. I promise." Looking closely at the cubone's skull helmet, it began to remind him of an ancient dinosaur fossil. Damon then smiled and said "I'll call you Rex." As time passed, the bond between Damon and Rex only grew stronger. Rex grew to be very loyal and protective towards Damon. Always remembering back to the day when Damon saved his life, Rex made it a personal vow to become stronger in order to always keep Damon safe. Rex's features became more developed as he got older. He is slightly slimmer than most cubones, though his underbelly still naturally sticks out. He has three spikes along his back instead of the usual two and a long scar is visible across his belly. His skull helmet is also partially different from other cubones. For instance, its horns are slightly more developed, the tip of the snout is curved upwards, more teeth are apparent along the jaw, and its canines are larger, which he actually uses to whittle and keep his bone club sharpened. There is also a large open crack present along the left eye socket, which is believed to have been caused on the day of the incident involving the death of his mother. Rex also wears a very long orange cloth that Damon gave to him. He keeps it wrapped around his entire head to keep his face hidden in case his skull helmet ever comes off. He keeps the rest of it wrapped around his neck like a scarf, possibly to mimic Damon out of admiration. When Damon turned seventeen years old, he came across a stray female smeargle. It must have been abandoned from its group due to the lack of the pack's foot print mark on its back, but Damon was always happy to adopt another outcast. The smeargle's snout is longer than others of its kind. Its limbs, torso, and tail are also slightly more elongated, giving it a bit more of a lanky simian look. It also produces a unique violet colored oil from its tail and bears a purple stain in the middle of its face in the shape of a paw print, which was most likely a deliberate act of defiance against its former pack. One of the first paintings Damon saw it make was in the shape of a jewel, which made Damon think of an amethyst. It was then that Damon named the newly found smeargle, Thyst. As artists, it's easy to say that Damon and Thyst quickly became friends. They were often seen drawing together and comparing artwork. Thyst's quirky nature easily blended with Damon's happy-go-lucky personality. Rex also developed a friendly relationship with Thyst, though it usually involves her playfully pranking Rex by painting on his skull helmet when he's asleep. Damon was always happy to be around his pokemon. He had a tendency to keep them outside of their pokeballs unless they quickly needed to rest. Damon had the two greatest friends he could ever ask for. Everything seemed right with the world. That is however, until it ended. The apocalypse occurred just a few weeks after Damon turned nineteen years old. Happy birthday indeed. His town was luckily nowhere near the atomic blasts. It was however subject to a chain reaction of other adjacent explosions, non nuclear, but devastating nonetheless. Damon and his two pokemon managed to make it to a nearby bomb shelter with some of the other towns people. Many however wouldn't make it in time, one of which being Damon's mother. His only family. As the sound of fire and death roared from the surface, Damon began to emotionally break down. His home, his family, his life, gone. He was on the brink of despair, when he felt something clench his hand tightly. It was Thyst, looking endearingly at Damon. She had a nervous uneasy smile, but it was comforting nonetheless. He then knew that despite everything, he still had the two of them. They were his family now. He still couldn't help but feel fear though. He wondered how different the world would be after the destruction. He was scared, until he felt a tug on his other hand. It was Rex, gazing up at Damon with an overwhelming sense of determination. Even though Rex couldn't talk, Damon immediately knew the words emanating from Rex's heart. They were the very same words that Damon whispered to Rex five years ago. The words that Rex was now using to console Damon. Those words. "You're gonna be OK. I'll take care of you. I'm never going to let anything bad happen to you. I promise." Over time, the commotion above slowly grinded to a halt. As the doors opened Damon, Rex, and Thyst carefully stepped forward into a new and uncertain world. They were cautious, but confident at the same time. For they knew that no matter how different or unforgiving this new world was, they would never cease to continue their life's mission. To make the world a better place, any way they possibly can. Caleidah Andrej Bogdan (Geezer), Vuk (jolteon), Ptica (pidgeot), Kolega (tyrogue) Imagine, if you will, an elderly doctor, sitting in his office at a medical clinic. His short gray hair is neatly combed, and his beard is kept short and neatly groomed. In his right hand was a pad of paper, holding his personal notes on a particularly interesting patient. A strange interaction between a trainer and a Pokemon, pushing out on the bounds of what he understood about human interaction with the ether. His round glasses sat on his crooked nose, high ridges showing where his time as a traveler had ended badly with him taking his lumps as a lesson. His body is tall and lean, though most of his muscular strength from youth has left his body. Strewn across his desk are other note pads, along with bottles of potions for Pokemon and various vials of human medicine. On the side of the desk facing the door, a small block sits. Engraved into its face is the name Andrej Bogdan. On the floor beside his chair, the sun streaming through the open window has left a large, warm patch on the floor. There, in that bright patch of sunlight, lies a large Jolteon with a black leather collar. The letters engraved into the tab read Vuk, and its ears are twitching lightly as it sleeps and dreams. Since a twenty year old Andrej found the it as a sick and wounded Eevee, the two have been close companions. Now, forty five years later, it still comes to lay at the feet of its master and friend, still ready to hop up and defend him should anything become a threat. Its hop might not be as fast as it once was, but its loyalty and strength are unquestionable. At the window, perched on a metal rod, sits Ptika, a large and brightly plumed female Pidgeot. Again, Andrej's work as a Pokemon Doctor led his path across that of a wounded Pidgey. In much the same way as Vuk, he nursed the Pokemon back to health and trained with it, working however he could to keep Pokemon with that could protect him as he traveled between the various Pokemon centers where he practiced his trade. Through time and dedication over nearly twenty years, he helped the Pokemon to evolve into its final state. Its speed and strength have proven useful on more than one occasion, especially as an emergency messenger and as a means of transportation over short distances. The final member of his group, the fiery male Tyrogue named Kolega, stands near the bookshelves returning massive books to the shelves one at a time. The Pokemon is infinitely stronger than Andrej himself, which was the primary reason that he worked to keep the Pokemon's friendship. Unlike the other two, which Andrej found and nursed back to health, Kolega found him. While traveling the distance between his home and a Pokemon center, he was attacked by a group of trainer bandits. Vuk and Ptika were both overwhelmed, and, not believing in the use of firearms, Andrej was left defenseless. The Tyrogue came to his aid, attacking and driving away the would be robbers. Andrej had thanked it greatly and it followed him to the Center. When he had finished his work, the Tyrogue was still present outside and followed him to the next Center, and then the next, and so on. Eventually, they became close friends and Kolega joined him as his own personal aide and as a source of strength that he no longer possessed in his old age. Mr. Blackbird Lore Ulysses Shonevsky (geezer); Gloria (ninetales) Djinn (gengar) and Junior (abra). The sun is as bright as it gets these days, shining clearly on the isolated cabin that serves as home and refuge for an unlikely collection of folks (a term used here loosely). Ulysses Shonevsky, a man nearing his sixties, sits on the front steps of the porch, a soft smile on his face as he enjoys the unexpected rays of the Earth's star. It was the kind of smile that makes others want to smile just because they bore witness to this man's simple joy. His worn clothes are indicators of a difficult lifestyle, but his strong resolve has served him well: after all, he continues to live and live well. The hem of his dark blue jeans come to an end right at his ankles when he sits, cut appropriately to fit over his tried and true leather boots, his sleeveless shirt is a faded gray, and his favorite denim jacket rests over the porch railing; he has no need for it on such a fine day. As the man exhales a peaceful sigh, the many creases in his forehead, near the corners of his eyes, and along his cheeks all furrow and relax as the suntanned skin goes through its motions. Dark brown hair sprinkled with gray along the sides and back stand as more evidence to the test of time, and yet when one gazes into those strong, emerald green eyes, one could imagine them overcoming all obstacles indefinitely with the lively passion that smolders behind them. Despite his age, the elderly ex-trainer displays defined musculature. But then, one would hardly have to wonder why. The garden behind the cabin, the ax lodged in the tree trunk just a few yards to the South, and even the cabin itself all stand as proud testaments to Ulysses's hard work and dedication to survival and providing a comfortable home for his friends (and no one could ever mistake them for anything other than friends: they were certainly not his pets). All the yard work is handled by this man, and has been for the past twenty-some-odd years, with his Pokemon counterparts pitching in whenever and wherever they could. Should someone ever chance to come across this small piece of haven, they would surely realize what great care was taken to maintain both the homegrown crops in the small garden as well as the sturdy wood cabin. Although it is perhaps half as old as Ulysses himself, one would never be able to guess without some strong hints. Shonevsky's left hand rests at the nape of a Ninetales' neck, his fingers gently scratching behind her ears; although her simmering red eyes don't show it, Gloria is gleeful to have such a companion in her lengthy lifespan, and in particular one who treats her with such respect and love. The newest member to this ragtag group, Junior, sits curled in the lap of Ulysses, eyes closed and tail wrapped around his own ankle: just the way one might expect a domesticated Abra to appear. And for once, the young psychic was actually asleep, taking advantage of the noon sun to nap whilst bathed in warmth and surrounded by comforting and caring company. The cabin, being lit only by natural means, serves as Djinn's dark asylum from the sunlight. He sits in his usual chair, gazing at his master and fellow Pokemon who are seated just a few feet beyond the window pane; so close and yet so far, it seems, for one who is accustomed to the veil of night and the enclosures of a haunted mansion. It is obvious by his passive expression that he has become accustomed to waiting for sunset to spend time outdoors with his companions, and is content to wait each and every day... well perhaps not every day. With all things said, this cabin and its small but sturdy garden truly are small slices of heaven compared to the land around them: dusty, nearly barren land that only gives way to trees some fifty yards to the south. The remainder-- to the north, west, and east-- is all destroyed earth, almost as if a plague had passed over and sucked all the life straight from the soil. In spite of this and all other challenges they had faced, the foursome stood strong, and it was obvious in their eyes and the way they set their faces that they had every intention of continuing that tradition fas long as they must.
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