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 Posted: Sat Feb 25, 2012 8:24 pm
A vast mountain to the north of the guilds, it is obscurred in a thick and ever present fog that shields its peaks from view.
It is said once you get to the highest point that is visible from any distance, you can look up to see the rest of the mountain that is twisted like a corkscrew all the way to the top.
A normal mountain for all appearances, but it is mysterious in its own ways.
Rumors have stated that it 'changes' to suit the needs of those who traverse it, challenging the explorers who strive to reach the top.
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Posted: Sun Feb 26, 2012 10:53 am
The assessment begins now! There will be five stages for this chapter. For each seperate stage you will be given a small list of scenarios/prompts that you may choose from. Select the one that suits your fancy and make a post for each character you have.
Each of your characters posts must be size 9 font and fill the same amount of space as the below block of text.
This is for EACH character.
The easiest way to make sure you're in the correct amount is to type your post in front of the block of text with the insert button pressed.
This will have your text begin to replace the text below. Once you've typed your required amount none of the word 'text' should be visible.
This doesn't mean you need to be exact, you are welcomed and encouraged to type more than what is required!
(Bonus points for overachieving!)
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Twisted Spire is a place laced with Psychic energies. It changes its shape and form to suit the needs of those who climb it. Anything can happen here. Your characters might find themselves in a desert or upon a boat in the vast ocean. The possibilities are endless and so you may write without the restrictions of a set location.
STAGE ONE
"Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts
and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more."
------------------------------------------- William Shakespeare, Macbeth
"Richard Of York Gave Battle In Vain."
{Select your prompt from the ones below.}
Red blood
Orange sunset
Yellow eyes
Green forests
Blue seas
Indigo dreams
Violet obsessions
Your characters must get through their scenario before we can advance. Remember that you are graded on your posts in creativity, literacy, grammar and length.
Solaris' teleport glitched partway through! Everyone arrives at the base of the mountain but in seperate areas! It is up to you to dive right into the RP and make your way to the top.
Once everyone has posted their first stage we will advance to the next...
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Posted: Sun Feb 26, 2012 12:38 pm
Ailleen
Ailleen felt queasy. Although she had never traveled via teleport before, she could tell she hated it. Ailleen's new mental note was: Never let Beatrice teleport her. Ever. As Ailleen stumbled around, trying to get her senses, she noticed that no one was near her. Had the teleport glitched up? Ailleen sighed and began limply dragging her leg towards a clearing.
Ailleen thought back on the people she had seen at the Main Hall. The smoochum didn't look like most of her kind. In fact, Ailleen thought her rather kind-looking. That thought startled Ailleen. I guess being cooped up in the team room changed me... Not that there's anything wrong with being polite, but... Ailleen sighed a tired sigh. So much had happened. There was Algendars, and now her leg... The Vulpix felt useless. She had proved to be a fifth wheel in both cases, and in the first her arrogance had gotten Beatrice seriously injured.
The crippled girl noted that a series of colors seemed to be marking paths. Ailleen thought back to her father, who had taught her how to remember the rainbow's colors. Roy G. Biv... Richard of York gave battle in vain... "Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, purple! Ehrr, violet!" Ailleen could remember those long winter days when the two of them would sit down and her father would teach Ailleen the basics of reading, math, and other life lessons.
Her favorite song played through her head as she studied her choices. The colors red, orange, and yellow were out. Those were her least favorite colors.
Violet looked a bit too ominous. If Ailleen looked closely at the blue, she would notice the smell of the ocean, and the cawing of Wingull. The green brought back the minty, piny smells of her forest home, and the time when she lived as a runaway. Indigo it was.
Just as she nodded, the ground began to shake. "Earthquake?"Ailleen closed her eyes. Earthquakes were not in her area of expertice. Suddenly, the ground stopped shaking.
Ailleen opened her eyes to see what was the matter was. She gasped upon looking around, for she was no longer on the mountain. She appeared to be in the middle of a desert, with no sign of life in any direction. The Vulpix turned slowly around to make sure that she wasn't dreaming. Or you know, maybe she was. Then she noticed that some of the people were still there. Just as suddenly as it had changed, the landscape turned back into a mountain. The Vulpix raised her head in confusion. "Is this whole mountain some sort of Ditto? If so, this is not funny!" Ailleen began jumping on the earth ferociously, as if she expected it to quiver and turn into a large pink blob. After a few moments of this, Team Wonderland's co-captain sat down with a humph of satisfaction. With a realization that no one particullary cared, or was with her, she stood back up, and limply walked towards a path which seemed to be different from the others. It had a violety feel, and it made Ailleen herself feel drowsy. The rainbow-tailed pokemon had to shake herself to get her senses back in order or she would have fallen asleep.
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Posted: Sun Feb 26, 2012 3:08 pm
Indigo dreams
And so it was Hiro was teleported to some Arceus forsaken mountain. Oh yeah, everything was indigo as well. "What the heck?" Hiro questioned as he looked at his odd colored surroundings. Might as well climb the mountain. Who knows... everyone else might do the same. Either way it seemed to be the only other thing for the young teenager to do now that he was alone. Perverts.
Noticing a path he went along, seeing as it was going up hill. As we went along that Ralts flew by his head mumbling something about coffee. Hiro shook his head in confusion, trying to distract himself. And that he did. He distracted himself into a tree. Falling on his butt he sighed. Carefully avoiding any other collisions he trudged along before a Lucario stopped him. That Lucario that had stolen the Oran berries and beat him up! Oh he was going to get it!
Hiro went to punch him but the jackal sidestepped and easily tripped him. Laughing the Lucario charged an Aura Sphere. Eyes widening his fist turned cold as steel, throwing his fist into the Aura Sphere in the form of Bullet Punch! No, he wouldn't let him simply knock him out like last time. Although he was unaware that his mind was simply messing with him. Any on lookers would see a Machop fling an attack into the air like a lunatic.
As for his mind the Lucario laughed as the attack stopped his. Swinging his palm he slammed it into Hiro's face, throwing him back. The Lucario used Force Palm. Hiro blinked in and out of consciousness. As he stood up he saw that his foe had left. So he continued down the indigo path.
A Duskull flew through him and Hiro shivered, extremely cold now. He hated it when Lunar did that. "Why're you like that?" demanded Hiro. "You never talk and when you do, it's an insult to me!" The Duskull shrugged in indifference and went his merry way, leaving Hiro alone once more.
Where was everyone anyways? Did the Espeon screw up the teleport or something? Or was this some kind of sick test? Hiro was unsure bit he certainly wouldn't fail the test if it was. Nothing would stop him, as he braved through once more for an endless distance. It was tiring as his eyes started to close, sleepy.
That's when the dreams started getting weird. The leader Espeon, or at least his subconscious version, blocked his path and ran at him, yelling "Let me love you!" Hiro quickled dashed backwards, away from the odd Espeon. Ok, things went from odd to freaking weird in several seconds. Noticing that the pink Pokemon had disappeared, Hiro scratched his head. What the heck? Now with that scarred into his mind be continued on, slightly terrified of what would happen next.
((Allow me to stress that the characters he's seeing is just his subconscious messing with him. Just do nobody misunderstands this as Godmodding.))
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Posted: Sun Feb 26, 2012 3:18 pm
 Mikhail found himself face down in mossy soil reminiscing on the days when he could actually trust a teleport. Sure, he realized how much his Dark type composition made it a rough ride more often then not, but ever since he had affiliated himself with the guilds, he hasn't exactly had the best luck with this sort of thing. The Weavile stood, brushed himself off, and examined his surroundings. Just as he was told to expect, he found himself at the base of a mountain with a light fog just starting to roll in. It was strange though, for a short moment he had the slightest sense that he still had the company he arrived with surrounding him. Surely they couldn't be all that far away but the fog was getting thicker with the second and soon even his overly keen eyesight was entirely obstructed. As soon as he wasn't able to even see a few feet in front of his face the sensation of companionship was entirely lost. He began questioning if he was even at the right destination or if he was tossed off somewhere entirely wrong.
It wasn't long before his suspensions were broken though, as he felt a slight churning beneath his feet resembling the upturning of earth accompanied soon after by an eerie cold and wet feeling. Fortunately still able to see the ground on which he stood, it was becoming apparent that the valley in which he had landed up in was now flooding over for whatever reason. He was informed that this mountain was embedded with large amounts of psychic energy, and the occurrences before him clearly weren't natural. The gravel under his claws now shifting violently, bubbling with water; strangely enough the liquid, as it collected, was slightly warm and had the buoyant feel of salt water as if it were directly from the sea. As much as he would have taken time to examine the situation at hand further, a sense of grave urgency took over him and he began to back away from the collecting waters moving uphill in time with the rising levels which were now hastening themselves. With that, the earlier mentioned fog was also retreating as if heralding in an entirely new change of scenery. Mikhail was then greeting with an entirely new sight, blue skies mixing in with calm, clear, matching waters that seemed to stretch on for miles. Thankfully the sea was no longer on the rise and the Weavile was left with what was barely a few square feet of soil to stand on that surely once marked the pinnacle of the now submerged landscape. Surveying his surroundings once more there was no longer a mountain to be seen, rather, the only structure that would present itself as any sort of a destination to Mikhail was a lone staircase jutting out from the waters quite a swim away. He had an indescribable sense of that being his way out but he wasn't able to focus on where exactly it lead. This is when he became positive he was no living out a dream of sorts, a projected reality enhanced and displayed on the backdrop of the foot of the mountain. Having a great deal of experience with wild illusions; his mind having created a lot of their own in its day, he had no reason to fight what was before him and he just accepted the manipulated valley as fact. He would have taken step into the stagnant pool if it had remained that way, instead, a sharp churning accompanied by a large, impressively large, area of ripples caught his attention.
"s**t."
He muttered out in disgust, having a good sense of when these delusions were about to take a turn for the worst, and, well, that was now. He spoke to himself to keep himself comprised and sane; this much was an often occurrence no matter how profane his choice of language was. Whenever he was alone and faced with a feeling of insecurity, he saw absolutely nothing wrong in affirming his own, solid existence by talking his way out of it. Focusing his vision as one would in any dream came across as a bit of a rough process, but as soon as the distorted reality composed itself enough to come across as a crisp image, the task ahead was beginning to look bleak. Just underneath the surface of the water swam about nearly undetectably lithe a large sapphire blue mass which deeply contrasted the ligher, sky colored, water, furthermore added on to it were deep red and glowing red veins of sorts that pulsated with energetic life. As serene as the scene seemed, Mikhail was filled with a deep sense of threatening dread. Despite his knowledge of the lack of reality behind what was before him there was still an underlying caution in his actions as he acknowledged what he thought would be the correct moment to take action. When what he thought would be the submerged beast's back was turned, he made a break for it. Screw risking speed in place of a quiet entry, he dove head first right into the waters which were thankfully deep enough to accept his entry without him bashing off a rocky bottom. It was at this point where he wished he at least undone his scarf beforehand or something, the long trailing piece of fabric getting caught up in his strokes as he sped in the direction of those distant stairs. His stature wasn't helping the matter along either as it took all of his energy with very few openings to take in a breath to continue torpedoing himself through the water. It wasn't long before he was aware that something was hot on his trail by forceful movements in the water other than his own, presumably the figure from earlier. Worth mentioning is the fact that the wakes provided by whatever was chasing him were large enough to propel him along. Granted the fact that it seemed to be getting closer and closer yet with each passing moment hardly helped anything. Mikhail's heart rate hastened. A sudden burst of adrenaline kept him pumping his way through the depths. His deep blue fur slick to his body hardly hindered him as he sped along. A quick glance as he broke surface told him he wasn't too far from his goal. It was hard to tell without sacrificing his lead by wasting time looking back if he was going to make it or not though. A sudden change in current took its tole on his efforts as if something directly behind him was opening its giant maw ready to strike. There was simply no time or reason to confirm as much as fact. It was make or break now; he felt something solid trip up his pumping hind claws and without further deliberation he used the slippery snout of the megalithic fish to kick off from and shoot himself out from the water. With an entire lack of grace Mikhail dug his claws into and lifted himself up onto a slab of rock that made the base of the staircase he was aiming for. Once sure he was on solid ground he staggered to his feet having trouble on his aching muscles managing to get into motion once more. He kept on moving through, knowing the risk otherwise. Racing up the open, spiral staircase he clambered just to get to the top. Below him he heard a large crash accompanied by a vicious shaking that nearly knocked him right back down into the depths below. It seemed he was only moments ahead of death with that. The behemoth fish missed its mark and he was in the clear. With one last stride he blacked out, crashing and rolling onto a floor of solid ground. No longer did he feel soaked as he should have after the swim he just had, nor did he know where the staircase he was just on disappeared to went once he opened his eyes and took in his new surroundings. It was as if whatever he had just experienced had never happened. Nonetheless by his racing heart rate and aching legs and arms it seemed the physical tole still held strong.
 Ein felt as if he was falling; or at least maintained such a sensation until he realized he had wings to keep him afloat. With a quick flutter of his multiple sets of insect-like appendages he regained airborne stability and opened his eyes. The first thing that struck him odd, to say the least, was the fact that he was entirely alone, yet eerily enough he still remained under the impression that he was at the correct destination. Sure, he wasn't the most apt to speak on the topic, but there was something off about that Espeon's Teleport, or at least for that matter something disrupted it. Putting more effort into focusing on this conundrum the conclusion was soon reached that there were other psychic forces at hand here. He was at the correct location no doubt as he was briefed on such a place like this being embedded with such energy back at the guild. At least it was clear that he was likely still in good company, however the reality he was experiencing now was just separate and more focused than that of any of the other guildians whom he presumed where experiencing similar troubles when compared to where he was at now. Oh how he wished he had powers as advanced as this. He contemplated taking a nose dive straight into the landscape in hopes of becoming one with it and its force, but it was in doing so that he realized he was hardly in control of his body at all. In fact, he was just kinda' floating there above a scene that when focused on slowly took shape below. Heh~, this mountain knows me well, making me omnipresent for the sake of tickling my whim."He was unbelievably amused at first by the thought of it all, even to the extent of being afraid to try and speak as he felt seperated from any sort of physical bounds that confined him to experiencing a particular portion of this dreamlike world. He looked up, down, and in every given direction all at once, taking in all there was to see. It was here though that the fantasy world ended; his surroundings strongly resembled something familiar that he just couldn't put a name to at first. The sky surrounding him had the most beautiful orangish-red hue to it which honestly could have no describable natural cause until he focused his vision off a short ways away where... Oh Arceus no... "Just like you wanted, right dad?"There, a young Buneary, albino with only the slightest bit of creme in his  color came skipping merrily down a dirt path; a somewhat innocent and jovial pep in his voice as he walked along twirling a lit torch in his hands. His words were directed, oddly enough, to none other than an equally familiar looking Celebi. It was obvious enough that the two weren't in any way biologically related, but the title given to the pixie Pokemon by the Buneary undoubtedly had some reverence behind it; his quote insinuating even more. Ein was fully aware of the situation now;. Before him was being projected a past memory of his; his stance now omnipotent so he could best experience while being unable to avoid the horror of the scene from his past as it played out in full. Off in the distance, set ablaze, stood but soon to crumble, a small forested town inhabited by a tribe of presumably Sceptile, Grovyle, and the like. In its prime it would have been a series of huts set up amongst the bases of large trees left to grow in peace with the land for centuries; now however this was clearly not the case. Considering the dried thatch that made up the lot of the establishments in the quaint town, it was likely by this point that if there were anyone still trapped inside a building, they were unlikely to make it out. The cause of this all was clear also, seeing as Ein had once lived through these very events, seeing as a younger but entirely resembling mentioned Celebi was present and being spoken at by the firestarter Buneary right now. "You didn't have to..."His words were far less scolding than what they ought to have been when directing his words at an adolescent Pokemon who just set ablaze an entire town without reason. SCOLD HIM DAMMIT!From above, the present Ein was screaming mentally, trying to get his words across somehow, but it was simply impossible to print anything on the show before him; just like a movie, although being watched in real time, his past was simply unchangeable. An unbearable sense of remorse flooded over the Celebi; if he had a body to speak of in this moment he would surely be bent over with illness brought on by this dread. The orange sky continued on, brighter as ever as the fire consumed all the foliage within its grasp. Any attune Psychic type in the immediate area would surely be aware of his pain and even brought back by it; the sheer intensity of what he was experiencing in this moment was indescribable. "We better get out of here though; get back home before you are caught. You've done me proud."The conversation below continued entirely out of his grasp. He knew what was to come after this also. The two would leave, unnoticed, and go back to their living quarters for the past Ein to further poison that apprentice of sorts with his malice ways. Clearly by the way he was reacting to the scene now though, a memory which he has long since repressed out of these sorrows, Ein regretted his past life of hatred and manipulation and seeing this now only brought up more and more troubles which he had thought he finally left behind him. His name was Ace, the Buneary that is, and the temporal legendary, though not able or at least not willing to spawn for himself, had taken him under his wings, literally, at a very young age, raising the child in a manner which he thought appropriate at the time. Back in those days, the skies were often orange in the vicinity of those two. The memory faded from visual existence with that much shown, once assumed long disposed of however, it was clearly going to be foremost in Ein's eyes for quite the while. The Celebi awoke to find himself back in his corporal restraints crawled up in a ball on the ground where he belonged. Wherever the hell he was and whoever the hell he was with did not matter in the slightest; he did not care about anything else but the past as he screamed with mental agony.
 "Hello?"
Blight's voice traveled on and out across a barren stretch of pains, no features in sight that it could possibly echo off of, especially not the mountain he previously heard about as the guilds' destination. Sure, he traveled via teleport with Chase without complaint other than having to awkwardly touch his partner, but never had something this wild happened that he was dumped off in the middle of nowhere. There was no answer returned to his call laced with fear. Rightfully so, though the Lopunny liked to keep a manly composition, it was getting dark and his fur was bristling with the sensation that a change in weather was soon on its way. He wasn't exactly looking forward to the possibility that he was alone; here to spend his night out in the wilderness without an inkling of an idea to where he was and how he would survive. Having become too accustomed to his domesticated life, Blight knew well enough that this is the last thing he needed, a crash course in survival training. He let out a sigh at this thought, bringing his arms up to rest crossed over his head as he marched along with no particular destination in mind. He had truly lost his sense of adventure with evolution and the only thing driving him now was the instinct which assumed that since there was nothing keeping where he was now, he better get moving in hopes of finding somewhere more desirable.
He just passed it off as not noticing the time as it dawdled on when the realization came that it was getting darker and drearier seemingly in such a short expanse of time. Some dry thunder crackled in the distance; nothing to really show concern about though seeing as the air in this region, wherever he was, was undoubtedly far too arid to be producing rain any time soon.
It was futile to pursue on. Blight would have found himself a cave to toss himself in and rest for the night if it weren't for a sudden sight worth concern that caught his eye. Prowling towards him, mere yards away, light up into visible existence by a sudden flash of lightning, was what appeared to be a lone Luxray. After the flashing dissipated momentarily, though expected to be followed with more, all that remained were a pair of glowing yellow eyes dropping with a feral gaze. The moment in and of itself resembled in its very essence something similar to that awkward moment where you're walking down the street and head on comes charging a person whom you don't think it best to cross paths with so you decide on making a scene out of yourself and crossing to the other side to walk safely instead. In short, this was pretty much that scenario, 'cept the Lopunny found himself stranded in an area of flatlands, in a thunderstorm, at night, being eyed up as if he were a meal to be savored soon enough. He would've approached the strange Pokemon if it weren't for how deep the gaze he was receiving was, there was no doubt he was being sized up himself; the Luxray now moving in a fashion where he was slowly circling around blight but never breaking his threatening glare. Blight had about enough of this nonsense at this point.
"Look, I don't know what your problem is, but-"
A bolt of lightning just barely grazing the ground feet away from the Lopunny grabbed his attention away from his pursuer long enough for the feline to pounce. Within milliseconds, Blight was on the ground, his own hands up trying to fend off from a set of jaws lined with predestine white teeth from snapping with killing force at his own neck. A set of forepaws dug into and held his chest in place, pinning him forcefully to the ground; a situation arose that seemed without hope.
All he could think of in this moment, what he assumed to be one of his last, was his team, Chase, and everything else dear to him. He had all the reason to fight back for just a another moment of his life, but not the ability to do as much. His arms gave weak under the carnivorous force above him, he braced himself to feel the pain of teeth tearing their way through his skin and ending his life immediately after. Instead, only something even worse took over his body. His eyes were still open this whole time and he watched on, as if it were in slowmo, a streak of lightening rain down from the sky, zap the attacker from his body, and then proceed to course through his own before escaping into the ground below. Never had he felt as much indescribable pain in his life. The last thing he remembered was barely having the ability to tilt his head over to see a pair of equally paralyzed, yellow eyes gazing at him, glazed over with signs of death.
He awoke to find himself breathing heavily, for the moment he had no idea where he was or what company he was in for that matter; the effort to compose himself was too much, all he could feel for the moment was the familiar feeling of being taken over by a psychic force as if in battle with something a thousand times stronger than whatever even his partner Chase was able to produce.
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Posted: Sun Feb 26, 2012 5:03 pm
This is a reminder to all chapter participants that there is a slight time limit to have these done. Preferably tomorrow around 7-8 EST.
Solaris
'Gay.'
No sooner did he think the thought did Solaris actually take the time to examine his surroundings and agree with himself that yes, this was possibly the gayest place in existence.
'At least it isn't pink.' Or was violet a shade of pink nowadays? Solaris doesn't know colors well, leave him alone.
It was a forest of sorts, though the trees were strangely warped as though drawn by the hand of a child or invalid. The leaves were all awkwardly shaped like great almonds and the branches were perfect parallels; someone had cheated and used a ruler to draw them.
'No matter. I just need to get through this fruity forest and meet up with the rest of-SWEETMOTHEROF-'
The oddly flowering bush he'd just strolled past took it upon itself to explain to Solaris the strangeness of the place he found himself in in the only way it knew how. Latching onto his face like some demented, purple squid.
The Espeon howled in alarm, running frantically through the bright and steadily thickening forest as stumbled along and slammed his head into everything he could find in an attempt to remove the bush, squid, monster, thing that was still latched onto his face.
It didn't seem to have any other intent aside from making really icky noises as it clung to him, but that was all the incentive Solaris needed to get it the ********. OFF.
Tempest
The sound of the teleport resonated in her ears, lingering as a dull ringing sound until suddenly it just stopped. Tempest was momentarily surprised as she lifted her gaze up from what was once the floor of the guild to the vast expanse of white nothingess before her. A brilliant light filled the Pikachu's eyes and her only thought as she teared up was, 'I'm kicking Solly's a** for this.'
She could barely keep her eyes open for the light. It was near blinding in it's intensity but as she waited it slowly began to dim down until the burning over her closed lids stopped entirely.
The Pikachu chanced a quick glance and was surprised to find herself standing on the edge of a waterfall, her paws planted firmly on an overhanging ledge just off to the left of the gushing falls.
Her eyes widened, she bit her lip.
'Not here. Not this place. Why am I here?' "It doesn't have to be this way, Rynka!"
She turned sharply, finding herself facing a Pikachu and a Raichu grappling on the edge, dangerously close to falling straight off the side and into the freezing water below. The sun hung like an ominous warning behind them, steadily dipping down past the trees of the forest nearby.
With a strangely warped sense of calm she recognized both Chu, she'd recognize either of them anywhere.
The Raichu was simple colored, his eyes were bright green.
'Marshall.' Her brother. She had five of them, all older than her, but Marshall had been different. He'd not treated her as rough as the others. She'd grown up acting like a boy, because that was expected of her. But Marshall, he refused to let her take the role assigned. He'd made her her cherished glasses.
'Rectangle shaped, a nice ebony color. It looks more feminine than those huge square ones you usually wear.'
And now she was watching him struggle to hold the Pikachu before him in place. The Pikachu in tears, screaming obsceneties into his face, telling him to let her go. Because she wanted to jump.
Rynka hadn't planned on killing herself that day. She hadn't planned on dying. Her life was suppose to be perfect. PERFECT. She'd waited ages to evolve, she'd wanted to so badly. Watching the scene unfold before her, knowing she couldn't do a thing to stop it, tears sprang unbidden to the rodent's eyes again. Her paws had held the wrapped Thunder Stone, trembling in excitement. Finally, finally, she'd be a Raichu. Like her brothers and they'd stop teasing her perhaps, but that didn't matter really. They could tease her all they wanted when she was big enough to knock them senseless.
Her eyes had sought out her father from the stage where the other Pikachu stood. He himslf was a Pikachu, an oddity in that he couldn't evolve despite having contact with a Thunder Stone many times. The other electric type of their community scorned him something fierce. The words they whispered behind his back were full of venom. Rynka had heard them, had felt vehement in his defense, but had never raised her voice to tell them off. Why? Because she felt the same somehow. She didn't love her father any less for being unevolved, but it unerved her in ways she could never understand.
'I'll be a good enough Raichu for the both of is.'
As he caught her eye he smiled in a way that seemed fake, plastered on. She felt a cold chill run down her spine at it. He was worried, he'd been worried when each of her brothers evolved. His worry was that one of them would be like him. Unable to evolve. A Pikachu forever. A freak.
The last word made her inwardly cringe, she hated herself for thinking it at all.
Her father hadn't done anything to deserve such. When she evolved she'd smack those insulting Pokemon around the way she should have been doing.
When she evolved, when she evolved, her entire life had hung on that mantra the second she was able to process thoughts.
When the signal was given to remove the bindings on the Thunder stone she practically tore it off with one quick swipe. The brown fabric littered the ground at her feet and she clutched the stone between her paws, eyes closed tightly. She'd already decided she would close her eyes to evolve. It would be miraculous. Close them a Pikachu, open them a Raichu. Nothing would ruin this moment for her, she tuned everything out and waited. What would it feel like? Would there be a spreading warmth as she'd felt when she evolved from a Pichu? A slow hush fell over the crowd, she was partially aware of the silence and partially aware of something else.
Murmuring. They were all muttering quietly under their breath. What had happened? Her curiousity peeked, she slowly opened each eye, one by one. Had she evolved without even realizing it? It seemed like a cop out to her until she glanced down at the stone in her hand.
It still sparked with power, her reflection gazed back at her in fearful surprise. The Pikachu reflected in the stone was mortified. Rynka wondered what had upset her so, when she remembered. 'That's me.' She hadn't evolved.
The world seemed to stop then. She glanced out at the crowd and found their eyes boring into her, white hot and scrutinizing. No.
No no. Not her. She was going to be a Raichu. She was going to prove she was as tough as her brothers. No no.
'Why me. Why. Out of all of them. Out of everyone. Why me. What did I do.'
The next thing she knew she had bolted, her paws were burning across the ground as she tore from the crowd, from their judgemental eyes. She heard two voices call her name, her father and Marshall, but she didn't stop for either. No one else called. No one else thought to comfort her. Let the freak run away. Do us all a favor. We don't need some useless Pikachu in our clan. One is bad enough. Always knew she'd be like her father. Useless. Freak.
Her legs carried her to the overhang, near the bubbling waterfall. Her brother had followed, the two argued on the precipice of certain death. Tempest watched the scene unfold. Hated Rynka for what she knew now.
She knew what would happen next though she willed it not to.
"Rynka, think! It's not the end of the world!""It's the end of my world!"
A fierce shove to the chest, he wasn't expecting it, any other time and he'd have shrugged it off.
But his paws were already hanging off the side of the cliff when she'd pushed him. She didn't know. She didn't know he'd lose his balance. Didn't know that the little shove would send him right over.
"MARSHALL!" Her scream resonated with the cry of her past self, she looked at the Pikachu leaning over the ledge and crying in hysterics and she found she hated her guts.
"You don't deserve to live. You're a murderer." Rynka turned sharply, she'd heard her. The shock was present on Tempest's face as her past self rose to her pause and glared daggers at her.
"Didn't deserve to live? Are you stupid? I didn't live. I died here. This day. You walked away, not me. We're not the same at all, Tempest. Had it been you here, instead of me. None of this would have happened."
The guildmaster Pikachu took a step back from the accusations.
"We-we're the same Pokemon. I...I grew up. I learned from my mistakes. I never meant to..."
"Are we? Did you? You sound like you're making excuses..." Her equal stared at her unblinking, Tempest continued to shift under the gaze. The judgemental gaze. Those eyes were the same as the Pokemon of her clan. Watching, waiting for her to fall. So they could pounce like rabid wolves.
"Don't tell me what I'm thinking. I know me! I know me better than you! I'm not you anymore! I've changed! My name is Tempest!"
"Your name is Rynka!"
"TEMPEST!"
"RYNKA!"
The two shouted at eachother, snarling the names back and forth, neither giving in. They were the same Pokemon, they were both stubborn fools.
She hadn't changed. Not at all.
'I'm a murderer.' Don't come back. 'I killed him.' Never come back. 'My...my name is...' Freak. 'My name...' Murderer. 'I...I don't know....' Leave. 'I don't.'
Tempest's eyes snapped open, she'd been unaware she had closed them to begin with. The Pikachu found herself on her back, staring directly up at the foggy sky of the mountain.
All just a dream? ''Tempest! There you are!" Solaris bounded over, pausing to nudge the Pikachu as she pushed herself back to her paws.
"You okay?"
"What...what did you call me?"
"Tempest? Your name?"
"Right. Yeah. That's right."
Confused the Espeon could only follow behind her as she pulled away and began making her way up the mountain's trail on her own. He supposed everyone else would catch up soon.
Harley
Harley had never gone swimming before, she couldn't tell you if she even knew how to swim though most would make a joke that, at the very least, she was capable of a doggy paddle.
So when the Mightyena snapped into existence from the teleport over what appeared to be large body of water, her immediate reaction was to panic.
The Mightyena's lags kicked about in a frenzy as she descended into the wide blue abyss below, the second her paws touched the water she stopped and a curious thought came to mind. 'I am not dying because some pink furball doesn't know how to teleport properly!' For a split second she was fully submersed in the waves below.
Instinct (and anger) spurred her legs into kicking violently until her head broke the surface and the canine gave a gasp for air, her entire body thrashing in one quick motion to try to keep from going back under.
It was a struggle, she tried to pace her kicks to keep from wearing herself out but without enough of them she sank quickly. Harley was far from being the most buoyant of Pokemon.
It became clear to her quite quickly that she was probably going to drown at this rate, the lingering death kept her paws lashing out viciously towards the waves. There was no land in sight, no rocks to climb on, no passing ferry, nothing. She was stuck, trapped, destined to die in the middle of this ocean, sea, whatever it was called.
The thought made her angry and she uttered one last curse before dipping under the water for the last time.
'Buggering hell. This is it. The end of Harley Quinn. Legendary thief killed by a bunch of wet stuff. Oh, this is horrible. I couldn't have died in battle? Or at least in a glory of fire? Something more suiting than drowning in the middle of ******** nowhere! Will anyone even remember me? Wait...I haven't suffocated yet. I can't hold my breath for longer than a minute. How am I-"She could breath under water. Or at least this water. Harley wasn't planning on testing this ability elsewhere. The second she got out she wasn't going within a mile of even a single puddle from now on.
'This blows.' And with that pleasant statement she was wriggling and kicking under the waves in a random direction. Chances are if she kept going straight someway, she was bound to find something...
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Posted: Sun Feb 26, 2012 5:45 pm
 Oliver
Oliver landed lightly on a paved path. He looked around. He was in a city. The sky, the trees, the buildings--all were some shade of grey. There was no one in the streets, unless you counted the dead Pidgey in the middle of the road, its pool of blood the only source of colour here. He remembered this exact scene, years ago. He'd grown up here. The city's law enforcement was a sham; if you asked an inhabitant about it he'd probably answer with a quizzical glance. Even the government was a puppet, controlled by the local mob. He'd been brought up as part of that mob, and only his mother's courageous actions saved him from becoming one of them.
He'd left the city, and only returned when he was told that the mafia had plans to conscript the entire city as soldiers. He could not let them cause the deaths of children and innocents. He'd returned to their main hideout, the building directly in front of him. He'd walked calmly into that complex, where the people he'd known from his childhood lived and worked. George, who beat his wife. Tony, who ran the bloodsports ring. Quentin, whom he'd once called a friend. He had strode into the mafia's hideout and slaughtered them to the last man. Even now it did not bother him at night the way he'd heard of such acts bothering others. He'd done what was needed, no more, no less. And now, he knew that there was no way to progress but to do all that again.
As he calmly blew the door off its hinges, and as the aura blades appeared in his hands, his only apprehension was that perhaps someone might escape this time.
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Posted: Sun Feb 26, 2012 6:50 pm
Victor
Victor fell to a knee as he appeared, shoving one of his scythes into the ground as he gave himself a bit of time to recover. Teleportation was something that was incredibly difficult to get the hang over when you were a Pokemon who didn't encounter the transportation method on a regular basis. Especially if it went wrong, as it seemed to have done in this instance. The Scyther stammered to his feet, pulling his scythe out of the loose dirt beneath him. Looking around, Victor took note of the fact that he was currently alone. "What ever happened to old fashioned traveling...?" The Scyther muttered to himself as he scraped a bit of dirt off his scythe. After all, most of the adventure was getting there, right? At least they had been teleported to the bottom of the mountain, rather than the top. As much as Victor loved getting things done, he would have felt it very pointless for a decent-sized group of Pokemon to simply arrive somewhere and do little to nothing while one or two take care of business.
Well, it was time to get going. Victor had to get to the top of the mountain and meet up with the other Pokemon, whom he could only assume would be doing the same. It was the only obvious point of rendezvous around, after all, and Solaris hadn't really given much of a plan for if they had gotten separated. Victor wasn't going to say anything about it, though. The Scyther was loyal to the end to Solaris' family, and wouldn't question them at all. Some call it loyalty, others call it following blindly. Here, it was a mixture of both, I'd say. Victor was a bit apprehensive as he approached the mountain. Not because he was afraid of heights or anything, but because of the fact that as he approached, the side of the mountain before him began to morph and change. A crude staircase began to form, leading up into a small cave. Victor eyed the cave, letting out a soft sigh. "Seems the mountain will be telling me what to do today. Sounds like a grand adventure ahead of me." That was, of course, sarcasm for "This is going to suck."
The Scyther began to cautiously trek up the staircase, wary of his foundation and surroundings. You never knew when a giant arm was gonna come out and crush you or something like that. There was a few loose dirt steps, but other than that, Victor was able to make it to the top of the staircase without any sort of problem. Obviously the staircase wasn't meant to be the issue the mountain wanted Victor to deal with, but whatever lie inside of the cave was. "... Hello?" Victor called into the open hole before him. Normally in stories like this, all the main character gets back is an echo. Apparently this wasn't a normal story, as Victor did indeed get a response.
"Hurry up and get in here, before someone sees you, idiot!" A brash, young voice called out from within the cave. Victor blinked as his rude invitation, but quickly stepped inside the cave at the request of the mysterious voice. As soon as the Scyther was all the way inside the cave, the stairs behind him dissolved into dust, forming a dirty slope. It was like the stairs had never been there. A few more steps in, and the entrance to the cave closed up as well. Victor stood in place for a moment as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. Within about a minute, the Scyther was able to see a little. The fact that he could see anything meant that there had to be some sort of light source somewhere nearby. Victor found this light source in the form of a dimly lit passageway in front of him. Seeing as there was no other way to go, Victor let out another sigh before he traveled down the passage. The light got brighter and brighter before the small passage opened up into a large chamber, a bonfire in the middle being the ultimate source of light that he had been following. Sitting around the fire was a group of four young Scyther.
"Heh, this one looks like a friggin' wimp, doesn't he?" One of the Scyther's said as he looked at Victor, leaning over to his right to nudge his friend with his elbow. Victor cocked an eyebrow as he watched the four Scyther laugh like a bunch of idiots. Is this what his species was like outside of the guild? "Come on in, have a seat! What's your name. stupid?" The Scyther, who seemed to be the leader of the group, said with a smirk. Scowling a bit at the blatant rudeness of the Scyther, Victor entered the chamber and stood his distance. "I am Victor Lynch, servant to the Eclipse estate and warrior on behalf of the Guild of the Sun. I would appreciate it if you didn't refer to me with such rude nouns, sir," Victor responded with a nod. The smile's on the faces of all four Scyther suddenly disappeared. They all quickly looked at each other as if something was wrong before the three underlings looked at their leader. A frown formed of the leader's face as he pushed himself to his feet using the dulled tips of his scythes. His three friends were quick to follow his lead. Victor shifted his feet uncomfortably as he sensed danger was about to come his way. The four Scyther quickly surrounded him on all sides, with the leader standing right in front of the monochromatic Pokemon.
"Now, let me give you two reasons why you just ******** up with that sentence you just said. Number one, nobody tells me what the ******** to do," The young Scyther hissed as he held up his blades, gently sliding them together to hone them. "Number two, I hate the Guilds. Like, reeeeaaaally hate. In fact, I do what I can to make sure every Guild member that comes my way ends up in little pieces..." He then gave a nod to the Scyther behind Victor. Before he could react, a foot was slammed into Victor's back, sending him face first onto the ground. The Scythers on either side of him then slammed their own feet onto his upper and lower back, keeping him on the ground. The leader chuckled, staring down at his prey, who was groaning in pain. If Scythers had internal skeletons, Victor would probably have a cracked rib or two. "Now then, my little Guild friend, I'm gonna cut you up nice and slow..." The wicked Scyther muttered as he crouched down by Victor's head. He scooped the flat part of his scythe under Victor's chin, lifting it up so he could stare at the downed Scyther's face. "After that, maybe I'll find your Guildmates..." With a swipe of his other scythe, a cut opened up on Victor's cheek and began to bleed. The monochromatic Scyther grunted in pain, his eyes squeezing shut. "I'll find the youngest female on your team..." Another swipe, a cut across Victor's left eye. "I'll cut off her head..." Another cut across the first, forming a cross shape. "And maybe ******** her a little~"
Victor could take pain, he could take torture, it was something that came with the job of working for royals. He'd even accept death if it meant he was loyally doing his job. But he couldn't do his job if it meant he allowed sick, demented Pokemon like this one to make such threats against his Guild, especially if such things were said against the Pokemon the Scyther described, which was Harumi. Victor spat to the side, opening his mouth. "Oh? My new b***h has something to say?" The evil Scyther grinned, watching the blood run down his prey's face. "Then speak, b***h!"
Victor kept his injured eyelid closed as he looked up at the Scyther before him. "Let me give you one reason why you just ******** up with that sentence you just said..." He muttered, causing the other Scyther to c**k his eyebrow. Victor's knees suddenly curled up beneath him, pushing against the ground with incredible force. Scyther were knwon for having one hell of a boost in strength when they were enraged behind reason. Victor jerked his body upward, sending the two Scythers that were standing on his back up a few yards into the air, slamming them into the roof of the chamber they were in. As the fell back to the ground, Victor spun to his feet and swung both of his scythes upwards in a scissor formation. Blood coated the walls, as well as the remaining two Scythers as four pieces of Pokemon landed on the ground. Both Scythers had been cut clean in half. The monochromatic finally had some color on him, and it was blood red. He turned his gaze to the leader of the Scythers, who was staring in disbelief. "Nobody makes threats against the Eclipse family around me..." The other Scyther was about to make a retort, when in the blink of an eye, Victor was standing behind him, with his back facing him. The leader's eyes widened and twitched for a moment before his head slipped off his shoulders.
As the Scyther's body collapsed and bled, a wall nearby Victor opened up. It seemed the mountain wanted this evil Pokemon dead. before he left, Victor looked to the last Scyther, who was now on his back, crawling away and staring hysterically at the bodies of his friends. He stared up at Victor, fear shining in his eyes. "... Tell your friends about me, if you have any left..." Victor told him before he disappeared into the new opening, which closed behind him.
((I'm removing Scarface from this chapter cuz' I'm at a bit of a time crunch and can't really make the time to write good posts for two characters at the moment. When Solly's Teleport goofed, Scarface was teleported miles away, totally lost.))
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Waifu Trashu Vice Captain
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Posted: Sun Feb 26, 2012 9:15 pm
 AliceThere was no sound other than her haste footsteps against the tiled floor and her gasps for air as she dashed through the black and white abstract and seemingly endless building where every turn lead somewhere else that looked identical to the last room and corridor alike. There were no windows on the tall walls decorated in obscure, clockwork-like objects and gears and no ceiling was within sight; just endless flights that climbed upwards into darkness. She paid no mind to any of it. The small Gardevoir just moved and turned as if she knew exactly where she was going despite her confused, panicked expression saying otherwise. She didn’t question where she was or how she got there. The idea never crossed her mind. She was just there and something told her to push forward, disregarding the burning in her lungs that had begun to distort the tone of her breaths into painful squeaks.
Turning a final corner, Alice’s run slowed, her eyes locked on a certain contraption of gears decorating the wall little before the halfway point of the hall. She walked up to it, raising her hand to push against it, but she instead gasped quietly and stumbled forward in surprise as if nothing had stood there to begin with. Light obscured her vision before fading out in the same fraction of a second, leaving the Psychic in another world. An entirely different one. The air was thick, the surroundings ash colored and likewise destroyed. Her only reflex from the sudden shock was to throw her hands up against her mouth as a sudden force built up in the back of her throat.
“So, what will you do?”
Alice shook her head slowly, her mind still registering the situation. “I… I don’t know…” Her voice cracked as her eyes that slowly took in the area brimmed with tears. “It’s not too late just yet.” “How could that be? Look at this!” She turned sharply to view the figure that owned the male’s voice, her eyes rising with her turn as she took note of him sitting atop a metallic, broken pillar of sorts looking back down on her. Alice merely turned her attention back to the destruction after acknowledging his existence, while he instead closed his eyes in disappointment before reappearing without warning before her. There was no movement, no teleport, no noise whatsoever. He was just there. The male took little more than a few steps before turning back to view the female, who still seemed downright horrified. “So you will let it happen?” “…Where are we?” “I thought you would have known.” She did. She just refused to believe it. “Simplified, this is what happens when you fail. It’s only a step in the wrong direction, really.” Alice gave him a confused stare. How that was possible was beyond her, but he continued as if he acknowledged her confusion despite being turned away as he casually walked on. “You haven’t died yet. A lot of you are still alive actually.” “What about you?” “I’m here, aren’t I?” The duo stared at one another in silence for little more than a second before a distant sound caught their attention otherwise, making them turn accordingly. There wasn’t time to do much of anything but drop to the ground and cover her head as a seemingly torn in half building was thrown at them from no particular source. It happened just as quickly as it ended and the only indication that it might have been safe to get up was the sudden crash; the sound of hundreds of windows shattering making the small Gardevoir’s head ring in pain as she stood. Overall, Alice was untouched. The male, on the other hand, was not as fortunate. He wasn’t anywhere and the only rational response was that he’d gotten hit.
She had little time to respond in fear. Her mind was left reeling for only a moment before his figure reappeared shortly beside her, unharmed. “Pardon. That would have killed me.” He sighed, rubbing his head as if feeling the impact. “W-what hap—“ “They know you’re here.” Alice’s expression turned dark. They? Who? “I’d be more worried about moving on if I were you. Stop asking questions before you get yourself killed.” “I can die here…?” There was no response aside from the male turning away and walking on. Alice merely stared in disbelief before finally taking a deep breath and running after him further into the destruction in fear of separation. What was she supposed to do in a situation like this? Why her-- why.
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Posted: Mon Feb 27, 2012 3:46 pm
 Andrew
The echo of a gasp could hardly be heard from outside of the pupitar's shell. It had been quite the while since he had gone anywhere by method of teleportation, and as a result, had forgotten quite the stomach-churning tug that always came with it. A fog rolled around the clearing, and although he had trouble seeing to far ahead, he expected to hear the usual moans and snarky remarks that always followed when the guild traveled together. There was nothing. With a feeling of unease sparking in his heart, he spun around on the tip of his body, looking for any sign of his fellow guilders. Andrew could find nothing though but the surrounding mountain.
He began to question what exactly was going on. There was some kind of heavy force around this mountain, like it was alive, but he couldn't exactly put into words what it was. Andrew wondered if something had simply gone wrong in their travels, or, perhaps it was someone else's doing.
Sighing, recalled the voice from earlier. 'It is here I will prepare you for what lies before you. I know, for I've seen what lies in store for those that come unprepared.' Separated from the rest of his guildmates, hovering in Arceus-knew-where. Was this some sort of test?
Well, there seemed to be only one way to go. Andrew glanced twords the cloudy sky, though it was covered by the vast landmark before him. Up.
As if on cue, a brilliant bright light broke out through the weather, shining just as the peak of the mountain. He noticed it immediately at the light's touch, the fog wisped away as if turning to oblivion. A large shadow was starting to be cast behind him. The pupitar took little note of it and started to head up the rocky pathways, propelling himself every crag and sharp jag that would have surprised him before. He never looked back, not for a moment, until he heard a terrible sound; It was chilling, an utter cry of rage and pain.
To say the least, when he spun around, what he saw chilled him to the core. What was once his simple shadow had now grown, morphed into something completely different. It as first reminded him of his final form, a tyranitar, but he couldn't be quite sure. Andrew hovered, staring the picture down. The creature appeared to be searching around before finally turning it's head his way. Andrew backed up a little, his eyes not leaving what was before him.
The darkness before him was now stretching forward, lifting itself out of the ground and taking a shape of it's own. Pure instinct told him to either attack this strange thing, also telling him that he should run, to get away before something happened. Throughout the panic that surged inside him, he stayed, staring down the creature. It finally clicked in his mind.
"M- mother?" he whispered. Andrew stayed still, yes, he was absolutely sure it was her. Her eyes with filled with bright amber fire, like the setting sun behind him, and her skin may have been dark as night, as loose as the fog had been, but there was no mistaking those features.
He didn't know what to do, nor what to say. His "mother" bent down before him, bringing it's head to level with his eyes. Andrew zoned out, only recognizing his own heartbeat.
The moment was broken when the monster threw itself back up, letting out another agonizing scream. This woke him out of his trance. No, whatever this thing was, it was nothing to him. He dashed out of his place and headed up the steep cliffs. Another scream erupted; at it's sound whatever vegetation that lived around was instantly set on fire, giving an eye burning orange glare.
Harsh memories flooded his mind, the last time he saw his mother, still a very young larvitar, was fleeing while under the care of his cowardly father. She had died while under the assault of rogue pokemon, the flames seeming to be so strong for someone even of their type. cliche.iknow.shuddup.;u;Was this what she turned into?
Still he went, going until he could go on no further; coming onto what seemed to be a dead end that was. A large, wall-like cliff was before him. Pupitars, however, are known for their power, strong enough to topple entire mountains if they put their mind to it. While this strange mountain had an odd protection of it's own, there was no way it could keep him from staying here. With his own desperate wail, he charged into the earth a few times, creating an trigger that trembled the surrounding area like an earthquake. With success, the wall split into several different pieces, allowing him time to launch into the air as the nature-made structure came tumbling down. With a new pathway created, he got away from the fire as fast as he could, not slowing down until the rays of the mysterious sunset disappeared.
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Posted: Mon Feb 27, 2012 5:27 pm
 Violet Dawn In Clouded SkiesIndigo dreams.
Skye's breath was warm, bursting into the frigid air. Around her, the world was cold and frozen. A forest locked in ice. From the canopy above her head, to the frost-coated grass beneath her paws, everything was cold and lifeless. There was no sky above her. Without a sun, the moon, or the stars in the sky, the world should have been black as the blank canvas that marked the absence of time. The ice, the snow, the frozen droplets that bound her world; these were what guided her now. Though no light shone to reflect off the pale surface, they seemed to glow on their own. Pale mists swirled on the breeze, its presence ominous and clouding.
She bit her lip, twisting to see more of the place that enveloped her. It was so strikingly beautiful, but at the same time, the chill around her was from more than the temperature. This world was trapped in time, caught beneath a layer of ice that would never melt away. It seemed almost tragic, in a way. This world seemed as though it hadn't been given the chance to change, to start anew. It had simply been locked away in a dark corner of time, destined to freeze without hope or life.
She flattened her ears, forcing a soft laugh to lighten the mood. She was letting her artistic side take light again. She really had to stop thinking that way; it made it considerably more difficult to focus on the task at hand, and to understand what had really happened. She didn't know how this forest could be anywhere near the actual mountain that they were supposed to have been headed. It was so thick and dense; had it been alive, she might have called it lush or thriving. As it were, she couldn't see more than twenty feet through the forest to tell if even she was looking in the right direction. It wasn't as if she had another to help her, either. The others had simply disappeared, like smoke in the wind.
The Eevee wandered forward, sniffing lightly at the air to try and catch a whiff of someone or something familiar. Almost immediately, she regretted inhaling so deeply. The frosty air stung her nose, biting as it swirled down deep into her lungs. A coughing fit swiftly followed, the young Eevee wrapping her tail tight around her as she fought to regain the warmth in her body. It took a few moments, for her to learn to control her breathing. She didn't like breathing so deeply, in such extreme cold. In truth, she'd not been anywhere as cold as this. It was a thick, seeping fog that sunk into her fur and made her tremble.
"Don't breathe too deeply, darling," a voice murmured, soft as the wind.
Skye abruptly turned, her dark eyes wide with surprise. She hadn't heard the Vaporeon approach, and she certainly hadn't scented her. The figure seemed as still as the world around them, no bursts of steam clouded her muzzle. She, too, was somehow locked into the death of time. Jet black from nose to tail tip, wisps of silver occasionally showing through the ebony in various parts of her once beautiful form. Her ribs showed clear through her flanks, her limbs thin as the bones that held within. Her eyes were gaunt and hollow-looking, leaving the Vaporeon a fragile shell of what once was.
"...Who are you?" she breathed, stepping cautiously closer. She could feel her fur prickling, as though there was something very wrong about the Pokemon before her. She obeyed, however, not wanting to risk meeting the fate of the frozen grass that crunched beneath her paws. There was something very unwelcoming about the idea of being flash frozen.
The Vaporeon seemed to smile, the expression a little more sad than it should be. She didn't answer, but she didn't have to. Skye's attentions were already directed more intensely at the crumbling, flaking shell that lay atop bare bones. As the Vaporeon rose to her paws from where she sat. Ice had already crept upward, forming little indents around the edges of her paws. Where the gaps in her coat failed to hide, Skye could see the gleam of barren bones, and the black of charred flesh. Without hesitation or thought, Skye lost the contents of her stomach.
Still, the stranger failed to move, merely watching as the Eevee wiped the remains of her last meal from her muzzle. "...You're dead. This is impossible... how could you...?" Her voice was shaky and broken, the younger female looking up at the Vaporeon with a haunted gaze. "Please. Who are you...?" she pleaded, her ears flattened close against her skull. She couldn't make sense of this. She couldn't put it down to logic, or any longer admire the majesty of her surroundings. This place was just wrong on all levels.
"The dead have no names, child," the stranger murmured back, her voice soft and comforting. Skye found it anything but. As the older Pokemon approached, Skye flinched backward, trying to escape the charred, broken corpse before her. The escape attempt was ignored, and the Vaporeon closed in, pressing a dead paw to Skye's forehead. The Eevee gasped in alarm, surprised by the warmth of the female's touch. "Follow the signs. Nothing lives, here, and so nothing is sacred. Do not fall behind, do not rest."
"Follow the signs."
The colour drained from Skye's body, leaving it an ashen gray. The colour spread outward in a shining wave throughout the mists. It split into orbs, the light disappearing behind the frozen trees. It was headed North. How she knew what direction she faced now, she didn't know. All she knew was that it was, and every fiber of her being seemed to agree.
Life in the Vaporeon seemed to die away in an instant. She slowly dropped down to the frozen grass, silently resting her head at Skye's paws. Choked by the confusion and terror that gripped her, Skye could only stare in horror. It took a few moments for her brain to kick in, to remind her that she had to keep moving. The Vaporeon had told her not to rest, not to dawdle or trail along behind. As she was reminded, the ice seemed to spread like a pool of shifting waters. It was not a sudden or instantaneous process. It was slow and gradual, and Skye could not bear to watch any longer as the ice slowly began to form over the Vaporeon's face.
She sprinted for the safety of the underbrush, only to slow as she was forced to gulp back lungfuls of the frozen air around her. A walking pace it would be.
- - - - -
Skye shivered, the cold still steadily creeping inward from the thick outer layer of fur. Thus far, she hadn't caught sight of a single "sign" that the Vaporeon had predicted she would find. This world was barren and empty, with only the frozen landscape to keep her company. This forest was so dead, and yet so alive. The contradiction frightened her, as if she'd never seen anything so unusual in her lifetime. In truth, she never had. It was like a dream world, a realm of waking nightmares.
As if on cue, she found herself staring into the eyes of a very odd-looking Pokemon. She'd never met a Simisear before, but she knew what they were supposed to look like. This was not it.
Instead of charred and broken, the male was instead horrifically scared. One of his arms was missing, and his torso looked as though it had been partially crushed. Like the first stranger she'd met here, his fur was void of colour, black like a soulless abyss. Another set of hollow eyes met hers, and she timidly shrank away from his gaze. "Look for the signs, I know... Just please... leave me alone..." she murmured quietly, by far unhappy with meeting another.
"No."
Skye blinked, flattening her ears. Somehow, his voice sounded alike to the Vaporeon. As though they were two parts of one being; they shared their thoughts, their voice. Their disturbing way of finding her and sneaking up behind her without notice. "You're freaking me out; what do you want with me, this time?"
"This time?" There really was nothing to that voice. There was no emotion in it, only the subtle changing of it's pitch seeming to hint at the intentions behind it. "This is our first meeting," the Simisear insisted, following her as she strode abruptly past him. "Do not run from me, little one. There is much yet that you do not understand."
"I'm walking, not running," Skye snapped rudely, her dark eyes flashing with empty anger. Words she felt no truth behind. There was a moment of silence between the pair as they kept walking, although the Simisear seemed entirely unbothered by her sudden outburst. "I'm sorry. That was cruel of me. Continue." She had no choice but to admit that she needed his help. Anything to take her from this place, to give her new reason to live. This empty shell of a world was draining her sanity as fast as it had the colour in her fur.
Again there was a pause, though this time it was filled with the voice of the walking corpse behind her. How he managed to hold himself upright, with only half of his torso remaining... she didn't want to understand. "Find beauty in this world where it lies. There you find your strength, your spirit. There you find your sign."
Skye stopped dead, frowning at the Simisage. Although he was very obviously dead, there was a faint gleam of amber in his eyes where she'd not seen it before. The only colour that remained in a world of ice and snow, a palette of whites, greys, and soulless black. "Are you my first sign?" was all she asked, trying to make sense of things. The Simisear smiled, and merely raised a hand to his chest. His fingers quite literally slipped through his torso, merging with the skin. Striking violet glowed around his fingertips, and he pulled the orb from within his chest. Then, as the light left him, his eyes went dark. He too fell victim to the ice.
His final words lingered after his death, echoing in the open air. "Nothing is sacred. Remember."
This time, Skye forced herself to watch, dark eyes filled with sadness. She hesitantly pressed her paw to the glowing orb. The light absorbed through her leg and swirled upward. It merged through her own torso, spreading like the warmth of a fire and breaking through the monochromatic shell that coated her. It diffused into her fur, breaking thin cracks across the surface of her body. Faint glimmers of violet was visible through the cracks that formed, revealing the true Eevee beneath the colourless world. She looked as though now, she too wore a shell. 'Just like the Vaporeon.'
For a short few moments, she stood stock still, head bowed in weary respect. There was something to be said, for the generosity of passing spirits. It was not long before necessity forced her onward, shaking the brittle ice that already threatened to creep up around her paws.
- - - - -
The Eevee had expected to find the next sign within another Pokemon, like the Simisear before her. Instead, she now found herself face to face with a small and luscious-looking blossom. Nothing marred its beauty. No wounds, burns, or coat of ice. A daylily, if she'd not gotten her plants crossed. It's petals were of gleaming white and violet, shining with an unearthly glow that cast the world around it into a shimmering state of eternal glory. It would not die, she felt. Not unless something forcibly clawed the life from its petals.
She paced around it, trying to understand. She'd already come too close to being swallowed by the ice. As it turned out, the gathering of her first sign had increased the pace with which the ice could spread. She hoped it wouldn't stay that way, for she wasn't sure how many signs she'd left to gather.
Skye realized that in order to take the sign, she'd have to touch the flower, but she felt very suddenly afraid of what might occur. As with everything before it, what she touched would die. It would be overcome by the all-consuming ice. It was only safe as long as it carried her spirit within it. With a soft sigh of pain, the blossom's life was also taken. The gentlest touch, a caressing paw tilting the edge of the lily. The light was absorbed, like water to a sponge, and the ice slowly began to fight its way upward along the plant stem. It began to crumble, turning black as ash. The form was only saved by the form of the ice that curled around it.
Skye turned and strode away, trying to ignore the darkness that spread behind her. While the cracks in her monochromatic skin had spread wider, so had the gaps in her conscience. She wasn't sure how long she could continue to drain the hope from this world, for the sake of herself. It felt nearly as wrong to her as the world was itself.
Staring at the frozen earth beneath her paws, she realized that she could see the deep violet pads on the underside of her paws. She skipped a little, trying to catch a glimpse of the brilliant colour beneath her feet. It shone like starlight, glowing with the unearthly spark of heaven that she'd found in the blossom. She felt both awed and guilt at the sight of the beauty on which she stepped. It was the return of who she was, and it was invaluable to her. If only it hadn't broken another to bring about the change.
Letting her eyes slide shut, she sighed sadly. She was very suddenly torn upward, and she realized with a shrieking cry that she was being wrenched from the spreading grasp of the ice. Held above the ground by an Ivysaur, she squirmed in pain. Her muted struggled were noted, and the Grass-type loosened his grip. He did not set her down, however, continuing to hold her safely above the ice.
"...Thank you."
The Ivysaur smiled oddly back. It was an empty smile, somehow. Although his skin was a deep charcoal, no wounds seemed to mar his appearance. He seemed perfectly fit and able, carrying her along above the ground. "You're quite welcome, child." She shivered involuntarily at the sound of the familiar voice. Had this world no imagination? Why would everyone sound the same? It didn't even begin to make sense to her. Nothing about this world made sense.
She was suddenly reminded of the Ivysaur beneath her, and she blinked in horror. Everything she'd encountered that lived... it was to have the light drained from within it. She'd have to kill her savior, in order to save herself. Her heart twisted uncomfortably, and she stared determinedly at the lack of sky above her. "When?"
The Grass-type didn't miss a beat, merely continuing to walk. He knew entirely what she'd intended to ask. "Soon, but not yet. You've another before me," he replied quietly, still guiding her through the lifeless, frozen abyss. "I am here only because your path has shifted. You cannot reach the next sign without my help."
"...So I don't need to come back, then, after I reach the next sign?" she questioned abruptly, suddenly aware of the fact that mere contact with the Ivysaur next would bring about his demise, and the speeding of the ice that threatened to swallow her whole. She didn't want to be alone, in a world where she could not rest or pause.
"I did not say that."
The Eevee's heart sank, and her ears flopped sideways. "But if I touch you... won't you die, too?" she murmured sadly. "I mean... I don't want to kill you... it just... It seems to happen a lot," she finished lamely, fluffy tail hanging loosely from the tangle of vines that supported her above the ground.
Hollow, soulless eyes glanced toward her. "It is fine, child. Do what must be done. We've all lived once before; we'd not desire to steal that chance from you as ours was from us." The words seemed to mark the return of the swamping, all-consuming grief and pity. She could feel her eyes stinging with tears that would never fall. She simply blinked them back, and tried to ignore the holes that had wormed their way into her heart.
"You... all of you. You're too kind for your own good. What makes me so special, that I deserve such compassion?"
"Violet Dawn In Clouded Skies. Here, nothing is sacred. You've been told this twice before, and yet you fail to understand. What is dead cannot be broken. You are not of here, and therefore you break our reality. You must understand that we mean nothing here; we are the waking spirits of a dead and frozen world. Even the flower, whose beauty was so astounding, was merely a shell of what it once was. When you stole back the sign, a piece of your very soul, you took away the guards that it had set in place. It was, and always has been; a dying, shriveled blossom. You are the only thing in this world that means something, if only for the fact that you remain alive. If you won't take back what is yours, for the sake of your very life, our law will reign true once more. Nothing is sacred, in a dying world."
Silence fell across the forest, leaving only the soft crunching of frosted grass and leaves beneath the Ivysaur's feet, and the steady breathing of the starry-pawed Eevee he carried.
- - - - -
"So... if the first sign represents my faults, what does the second sign represent?" questioned the young Eevee, now riding comfortably atop the Ivysaur's back. Her fluffy tail, and glowing paws were clinging tightly to the blossom atop his shoulders, somehow managing to balance across the shifting ebony leave. "Is it somehow my good side, or.... I don't know. I'm just trying to wrap my head around this."
"They all represent your faults."
"Oh. Well, gee, that's encouraging. I'm wandering around a dead world with a talking corpse, looking for my faults in order to survive." She couldn't help but be a little sarcastic, though it seemed to lighten the mood a little; at least for her. The Ivysaur, she'd discovered, could not laugh. For whatever reason, the corpse people could not laugh or cry. They showed no forms of emotion at all.
"Nothing is-"
"-sacred. I get it." The Eevee rolled her eyes, only to stop in shock. The world around them opened up into a deep canyon. The dark expanse seemed to go on forever, reaching toward the very depths of the dead world. She wasn't even sure if she would even find a molten care within the crevice, deep as it went. For all she knew, it really did go on forever. Either that, or it was as frozen as the rest of this forsaken place. The Ivysaur stretched his vines once more, wrapping them firmly around the Eevee. He pressed her across the gap, leaving the Normal-type to pretty much freak out as much as she wanted. Her startled shrieking was only momentarily accompanied by the thrashing of a panicked child. She was quick to remember that the vines held her up from certain death. Escaping them would only result in the end of all that they'd worked for.
She still remained relieved when her paws finally touched the earth again, the Eevee stepping in a swift circle to ensure that the ice couldn't wrap its icy claws around her. "Come on!" she called back, her dark gaze fixed on the black Ivysaur across the canyon. "The ground is stable over here, you can come join me!" Surely he could cross with his vines... couldn't he...?
"Nothing is sacred, child."
Skye stomped her foot angrily, feeling hurt by the sudden betrayal of the Ivysaur. She'd trusted him! "You're not coming?! You put me over here, didn't you...? You... you told me that I needed you! What about the third sign?! I have to come back for you!"
"You do not need to come back for me."His vines glowed a brilliant violet, a glowing orb beginning to form between the ends as they weaved themselves together. She choked back a sob, suddenly understanding. "I am the next, the last, the final. I am the rest of your soul, Violet Dawn."
"No! You lied to me! Please, don't leave me alone!" she screamed, her agony echoing in the dying world.
"We all lie to ourselves, every once in a while. Nothing is sacred." His voice, though toneless as ever, seemed apparently matter-of-fact. The repeated phrase seemed to tear on the last strand of sanity that had held the Eevee together, and she broke down into broken sobs of pain. "There is much beauty to find in this world. In yours. Inner beauty. In the kindness of a stranger, of a lover, of a friend. Outer beauty. In the faces, the forms and the eyes of those around you. The beauty of the moments that bind us together. In time, you will understand how dear they are to us. You will change in many ways, Skye, but in who you are, at your very core. You must never change. It is our faults that make us strong, make us beautiful. Nothing is sacred, when the world is at war."
Unable to back away, caught between a wall of shifting ice, and the glowing tendrils that brushed her face, the Eevee held still as the icy realm in which she stood. The world was set aglow, her entire form shining bright like a violet star. Streaks of violet worked its way across the dream world, fading to almost white in places, and to deep indigo in others. The world was dissolving around her. All was a dream, and illusion. That seemed to only make things worse, somehow. All dreams came from within.
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Posted: Mon Feb 27, 2012 8:28 pm
 Hestia(( Prompt: Red Blood )) Hestia gasped as she shielded her eyes from the bright light, the Smoochum then felt as if her very being was being ripped from where she was.
This was an odd sensation for her as she had never been through teleportation before, it was a rather shocking experience.
Shaking her head slightly Hestia tried to keep her balance as she felt the floor drop from underneath her, then as soon as it started it finished and she found herself face down at the base of what seemed to be a tower?
...Or was that a mountain?
Whatever it was the nun had a distinct feeling she needed to reach there, she then gasped as she saw the mountain warp and twist as it changed from a dull color to a pitch black.
Hestia then noticed stairs start to form at the base as she hesitated for a moment, "...Suspicious."
The nun took out her rosary as she prayed upon it to Arceus, before pocketing it and quickly sprinting to the odd looking staircase.
Upon reaching the staircase she noticed rather quickly that it seemed to be slick with some sort of liquid, the substance was too dark for her to make out, she didn't want to take any chances, but maybe this was a test of some sort?
Swiping a hand down she brought her 'hand' up to her face as she rubbed the liquid around, the texture seemed slick, but still gritty...She then sniffed it and felt a nauseating smell enter her nostrils, "Bl-bl-blood?!"
This slide was made out of blood?!
"What kind of sick prank is this?!" She questioned as she shivered, she needed to reach the top of this staircase, that was obvious enough for her.
Taking a deep breath to calm herself, Hestia started to quickly run up the slick blood covered staircase. The stench was overwhelming to her, this was just...awful.
Hearing the squelch of the staircase Hestia just kept running up, she then gasped as she noticed the blood ahead of her was starting to bubble. Hoping not to run into it she stopped as soon as she could, though the slick blood caused her to slip forward and slam face first into the blood.
Now thoroughly freaking out Hestia hopped back up, before slipping again and falling backwards, though thankfully not down the stairs.
Getting up yet again the nun shook off the blood from her hair as she shivered the stench was horrifying to her, the blood was splattered all over her dress and hair, she looked like she came out of some kind of blood bath.
Focusing her attention on the bubbling blood in front of her, Hestia noticed the blood bubble up and form a shape of some sort of...Pokemon?
The species looked entirely unfamiliar to her but then gasped as the shape began to get more defined, "Ar-Arceu-Arceus?!" It indeed was Arceus...or rather a cheap mockery of the god since the abomination in front of her was definably not even close to the images she saw, the form was about the same height as the real deal, but was a dark red and dripping slightly, it's eyes as black as the night.
Hestia narrowed her eyes in anger, was this...thing making fun of her God?
Was this some sort of sick test?
All Hestia knew was this abomination should never belong in this world, or any world for that matter!
Steeling her determination Hestia lowered her body temperature as she exhaled a large gust of Blizzard at the thing. The 'Arceus' creature didn't even bother to dodge as it started to slowly freeze, Hestia nodded as she dashed passed it and began to run even faster up the stairs, she then heard a cracking sound as she glanced back and noticed the 'Arceus' had broken it's frozen tomb as it began to charge at her.
Hestia looked down as she noticed cracks in some of the places in the bloody staircase and nodded as she hit one of them with a Avalanche attack.
The nun then grinned as the ice slipped over the cracks in the stair case as she jumped forward just as the staircase cracked and fell apart.
She gasped as she mis-judged her jump and missed her landing but quickly shook out of it as she grasped the edge of the step, now dangling in the air.
Feeling the blood start to soak her 'hands' she tried shaking it off as she struggled to pick herself up and over the step, trying her best to ignore the blood that dripped on her face, some of it even managed to find it's way into her mouth, making the Smoochum gag and almost let go.
Hestia just grunted as she finally pulled herself up completely and gasped for breath, she noticed she was near the end of the staircase and glanced below her at the pile of blood that was the 'Arceus' and the staircase that had broken apart.
"...This is just...ew..." She felt like she needed a bath, this blood was starting to stain her nun robes.
She then shivered even more as she finally reached the end of the bloody staircase and as soon as she stepped off it she watched as the staircase melted away and some of the blood that had splattered on her had vanished, though she still had traces of it in her hair and on her outfit from where it stained, "Never again...I never want to do that ag-again."
She then took out her rosary and began to fervently pray to Arceus.
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Posted: Mon Feb 27, 2012 10:04 pm
 Tolin
Tolin was half tempted to shove his scythe straight up the Espeon's a**, but he decided against it. A stern note warning him against such future actions would do instead. He would make sure to word it very, very carefully so as to give no belief that anything but death would be the end result of perching on his shoulder again. He was not a stand for small pokemon to sit on and so help him god if someone did it again they were going to get killed then and there. But that would have to come later. For now, there were priorities. Solaris had, in his idiocy, teleported them without real warning and had screwed up in the process. Or, at least, he imagined that was the case since he had ended up on his own.
Tolin took a glance around, trying to absorb the area around him. It was familiar, faintly. The soft grass. The tables set up around the area and the plain chairs of all sizes that rested with them. The thin, plain tarp that had been put up to form an extremely large makeshift tent. It was all so faintly familiar, but he couldn't place it. It was familiar. Dreadfully so. It rested on the edges of his mind like a word or a name that one knew, and they knew they knew, but couldn't remember until the time had long since past. Tolin could do little more than simply look around, kept in place and complacent by the belief that the familiarity was a sign. Whatever was around him didn't seem real, so there was a reason it appeared to be there and there was a reason he was where he was in it all. Tolin rested himself in one of the seats as his thoughts instead focused on the nature of what was happening. The intent was to "prepare" the guild members, wasn't it? Then, rationally, this was a trial.
What was the goal? What was the obstacle?
Such thoughts were forgotten as the voices were heard behind him. Such familiar voices, yet at the same time he had nearly forgotten them. As he stood and turned the tent seemed to shift radically as decorations and lights appeared out of nowhere as the scene changed and the gentle stir of foot and voice took to the air. A Scyther and two Ivysaur walked side-by-side, all much, much younger than he. There was quiet chatter between the three of them; the Scyther voiced a certain dismay that he had come. The male Ivysaur chattered back, insisting that he would have a fun time. His female partner simply cut in occasionally with a quiet remark that, often enough, would disarm and surprise both of them. The three took to the table and the chairs, with the Scyther resting where Tolin had only moments ago. Chatter was consumed by a deep strum from behind him and as he turned the scene changed once more.
An area in the center had been cleared. A band was playing. The instruments clashed in tone and style, as if they had simply dragged together whatever instruments they could and formed a group out of it. Volbeat and Illumise hovered near the top of the tent, flashing faint purple colours down on the crowd below. "You should come with us." Tolin remembered what he thought here, even though he gave only a stare in response. Scyther can't dance. The Ivysaur just let out a chuckle. "Let's go then."
The two Ivysaur took from their seats and bounded towards the empty area the band was playing in. It hadn't even been meant for such a thing, but the pair began to dance. The twin vines each one had wrapped around one another and back to meet at the tip. A lot of pokemon think that really only bipedal creatures can dance, but that's not true. It takes a little more imagination and a little more skill, but it's far from impossible. And the pair with a mastery over their bodies attained generations before, such a feat was simple. The band, though surprised, kept playing and it wasn't long before others began to join in with their own dances whether they were practiced or a product of the wild enjoyment. Tolin simply sat back down in his seat, knowing already that it was once more empty. And he watched. As the lights above flashed purple and the band played. He watched his old, dear friends dance a wild dance without structure or logic. He remembered now, of course... This was so many years ago. They were traveling through the area and heard about the gathering. It was a party for... something, he forgot that much. Reliving it had stirred up the memories of all the passion they had and that wonderful, unique way they lived. They broke the rules the moment they left home, in a sense, and they continued to break whatever rules they didn't see fit to live by. They were wild, clever, intelligent and above all good, fun people. So he watched the two dance their passionate dance under the lights and as the center of attention.
He already knew, of course. This was a trial. There was an obstacle and a goal. But still, he would watch for a while. Memories did fade overtime and short of allowing a psychic into his mind, he would likely never again have the chance to see it all. So he enjoyed it before finally, he stood from his seat and moved towards the sole exit. A voice called out behind him, giving him momentary pause. "Leaving already?"
Tolin turned slightly and gave half-smile as he thought to himself that, "I'll be right back." they died a long time ago.
 Charles
Charles stitched himself to the teleport the idiot Espeon did, but, much to his surprise he found himself in a completely different area. He had heard about this phenomenon. As he looked around, it became plainly obvious to him that none of it was real. He was in a cold, dark place. A cell, perhaps? Blood was splattered on the floor and all of it was of little consequence beyond the exact nature of the area. Where was he? Or more specifically, what was it that was around him? It wasn't real. He had been here in the past, looking about. There were rumors and stories but he had never experienced it personally. Was whatever it was that had called them amplifying the effects of the area? It was possible--the Mew normally never let other psychics influence him mentally. It wouldn't be surprising if he shut the intrusion out entirely without realizing it in previous visits.
Charles floated to the wall and pressed against it. It was there, in a sense; it was tangible. It was, in some sense or another, in front of him and "real". But, no, Charles wasn't one to be idly "tested" and he would just as soon succumb to this mental influence as he would kill himself. The Mew focused forward and with another firm press, his fingers carved out deep gouges in the wall. He smiled, confident and pleased that his own will and power was greater than that of the area around him. It still served to make him curious, however. It was real, and then not. It was more than simply being made to see things or some form of illusion. It existed halfway between real and fake and it was something he had never seen before.
Noises began to intrude upon his thoughts. He hated that. He hated noises. Most of all when they kept him from focusing on something he was being entertained by. Charles turned to look over. Children had gathered on the ground near him. They looked haggard and injured, but hopeful as they gazed up at him. They whispered to one another that, perhaps, the legendary who had so strangely appeared could save them. But they were all intimidated. As they rightfully should have been; he was an existence far beyond their own. The children began to shift around one another in an effort to pick a leader until they eventually pushed out some poor, hapless individual. He began to speak up in a forced, high-pitched voice that squeaked from disuse before being suddenly cut off.
With eight voices freshly silenced, the Mew was free to continue his work. "Now, where was I...?"
((inb4 hatemail from darky/luna/bbc))
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Posted: Tue Feb 28, 2012 4:18 pm
( GOOP )[[ will edit in later? ]]  ✗ Louvell ✗Day 1
Louvell's eyes were wide open in fear as he padded back and forth on the sands. Yes, the sand, near the water, the place where he would least want to be at. He was sure it would only take a small bit of it to extinguish his flames completely. And, though he was unlike Charmander and could live if his fire died down, it was a rather unpleasant and painful feeling that he would rather not go through if he had the choice to. Besides, there was another thing that kept him away besides that fact - he didn't know how to swim.
And why would he? He never dared even put a paw tip in water if he could help it, so why would he submerse himself in it? But of course, that was the only way to learn how to swim, so he just wouldn't learn to swim. But now, when water surrounded all means of escape for him, he was in full panic mode. Usually calm and collected, this was an unnatural way for him to act. Put under pressure his mind told him that one and one thing only would help him - panicking. The flames on his back burned large and bright, he could suppress the natural urge to light everything in plain sight ablaze if he couldn't even control himself right now.
A palm tree next to him suddenly burst into flames.
How did he even get on this blasted island was beyond him. From what he knew, they were supposed to be on a mountain. He'd have the head of whoever put him here, served on a silver platter with their tail on the side. This was one of the absolute worst things they could do to him. Was this some kind of sick prank? Who got their kicks out of another mans suffering like this? Yes, there were some sick, sick people out there.
The flames roared as the whole tree was consumed.
Good god this was driving him mad. Madder than he already was. But he could have sworn he just heard a voice, like a light giggle. "Stop laughing at me!" he growled aloud. All was silent, until the giggle came back for a second. "Stop that! Stop laughing at me!" His head snapped around as he looked for the source, where, where was that infernal giggle coming from!
The palm tree no longer stood, now just ashes in the place of what once was.
He was going to die out here. Alone. Surrounded by water.
Louvell quietly walked up to the ashes, curling up in fetal position on them as he shut his eyes.
Day 2
Ashes. Ashes everywhere. Three new piles of them, now all scooped up into one large mound. Burning the palm trees here probably wasn't the best idea, seeing as he could use those for something, but right now he could care less. He just wanted to watch something burn, to both take his mind off of things and because this place was boring.
What was this weird feeling at his feet? Louvell looked down, there was some weird crystalline structure gathering underneath him. The flames that now coated his whole body settled until they were only over his back. The ground, it was covered in glass! Of course, when fire touched sand at a certain point, it would be glass.
Ideas stared forming in his head now as he looked over the ground. Yes, yes, this would do nicely...
Day 6
Louvell stood back now to admire his work. A small shelter, made of glass, for him to hide in (rain had already come once, and he would not be caught off-guard). Glass cups all over the ground, raincatchers. Five wood makeshift poles held in place were now at the front of the beach, how else was a carnivore to get food? And, to finish it all off, a tree that had the words "Piss spot" etched into it.
Yes, he had been busy in his solitude. So busy, in fact, that he had done all there was to do! Oh no, he would die, of boredom of all things! God, that was one of the worst ways to go. Nono, he would have to find something, anything to do.
His head turned up to a tall, thick palm tree.
Yes, that would do nicely.
Day 10
It was done.
The totem pole stood tall and proud, casting a shadow over the now exhausted Louvell. Carved in intricately were the heads of all the legendaries known thus-far, fact or pure legend. Everything from Mew to the weird tiny horse thing and back. It had been finely detailed, and fresh wood shavings decorated the ground.
His claws were now dull from so much carving, and he flew fire at them, burning away the wood shavings that lingered and were stuck in-between his toes. He'd done it. He'd gotten rid of his boredom. Well, now he was getting bored again, but still.
"You finally finished huh?"
"Took you long enough"
It was that voice again. And since his last encounters he'd come to terms with it. Figment of his mind or not, it kept him company, that's all he wanted. He actually quite enjoyed the company of others, they kept him from having to think to himself. He didn't very much care for himself, he found himself quite destructive when left to himselves own devices. Yet, Himself was also an interesting man. Maybe he should visit every now and then. Himself would appreciate it, though he sure wouldn't want to bother Himself too much for fear of becoming too acquainted.
"Your thoughts are so complicated~! Its interesting!"
Louvells ear twitched. Ah, right, the one at hand. "Its quite the beauty -- you can read what I'm thinking now? Thats new" The voice gave a childish giggle. "Hehehe~! I could always do that, silly. Along with a bunch of other things, but you wouldn't understand them, not even if you tried your hardest~!" Louvell sighed, "another one of those mysteries, huh?" too many in the world for a lone Poochyena to solve.
The Latios and Latias on the totem began to burn. No particular reason other then that he thought they should go together. Louvell grit his teeth, how long had it been since he had a meal again? Oh yes, just this morning. He was getting quite tired of the taste of Magikarp. But of course, as long as they kept him alive, then it would suffice.
One by one all the other legends heads caught fire, until there was a single one left. Creator, god himself, Arceus. Louvell went up to it, holding it in his paw. And just what god would keep them going on the way they were now? Who would spawn that strange fellow, Eridanus right? Let him and his "elite" roam the Earth, kill others for their cause, and let all these sorts of oddities roam free and careless? What kind of god would be so unwilling as to step down from his throne and help finish off what he had created?
Well, certainly, there had to be a reason. And, it was a scary thought, but what if Arceus just wan't strong enough? What then? Would they be expected to fight this, on their own, and make it out unscathed? Hell, the last fight there was Senka came back broken, and they didn't even manage to kill the little ********. Apparently quite the number was done on some Torterra, though, so he couldn't complain much.
He would spare this head then, as he was still conflicted about it. Even if it was just a shitty wood replica of the real thing. So, he threw it forwards, letting it land in the water and drift away...
...before a pelliper came and picked it up.
Its like this was all happening at random now, wasn't it?
He shot out a ball of fire, a loud screech being heard before the sound of a thump. "what was that, dear Lou?" came the voice once more. Louvell grinned, "Ah. Nothing. Just caught myself dinner, is all."
Day 22
"Frederick"
The sounds of the bones crunching under his teeth came to a stop as the Poochyena looked up. "What?" "Frederick. My name is Frederick" Voice had a name? How peculiar. "What? Oh, whatever" Yeah, didn't matter. Voices didn't need names. They simply existed.
It almost felt as if something nearby him got abit sadder.
Day 43
He loved coconuts. Before hated them but now he found them quite splendid. Did you know, three of them fell on his head today? Thats two less than six, five less than eight! Oh, and how their outsides burned, it kindered his inner flame so much he just felt like he could burn brighter then the very stars!
Ah, were there not just 15 trees yesterday? Now he saw 18! No, no, it must just be his head, all in his head, all in his head...
Day 51
Bababa
Bababababababa
Badadadadadadum
Ba-ba bum!
"You're humming in your head again, aren't you Louie~?"
The Poochyena grinned. "Figured you would know. You know everything." The giggle, the infamous giggle. "That I do, everything, everything~ Well, not quite everything, but most things!" Louvell laughed, taking a sip out of his half of the coconut. The other half, the voices half, hung idly in mid-air. "Fun times, wouldn't you agree Frederick?" The Poochyena laughed again, "Or, mayhaps, would you prefer Ricky?"
The spot infront of him got a light pink glow at the mention of the name. "...y-yes" If only he could see the smile "Very fun, Ricky would be nice!"
Day 75
With each passing day, the glow got brighter
With each passing day, with each mention of the name, it burned like a fire igniting, pink and beautiful, manifesting itself into a shape distinct from others.
"Louie, you must know that, though we are in a fake world, I am all but real"
"What?"
"...nothing. I'll explain it soon enough. Enjoy your coconuts"
Day 100
"I cant ******** take this anymore"
Louvells claws dug into his skull. One hundred days of pure madness on this blasted island. "I'm burning it to the ground, Ricky" a pause, "What?" Louvell looked to the side he was sure was the source of the voice, "I'm burning it, burning it all! To hell with this all, I can't take it anymore!" the flames on his back consumed his whole body. "It'll all be gone, gone, all of it! I would have died anyways, why not die the way I want to?!" it expanded, covering a wide radius around him. "I just want to see the world, I want to see it BURN!"
At that last word he seemingly erupted, flames bursting out to the point where you quickly couldn't see him. And, just as he had said, the whole island was put up in flames. It wasn't a big island, but it wasn't two feet wide either. The whole thing was large, and by doing this he had only accomplished one thing - exhausting himself.
The oranges blurred into the yellows as Louvell toppled onto his side, knocked out. The last thing he felt was his body temperature drop and warm hands on his cold shoulders.
Day 105
The moment he woke up, his attention was on the man at his side.
Well, it was hard to believe it was a man at all. Dark, slander black legs, a black dress, pink face, big lips, and bun-pigtail things. And bows, lord the bows. And he was reading, too, where did he get that book!
The Gothorita glanced over at his side, a smile coming to his face. "Ah, I thought you would never come to" He closed the book, and the second page 115 met page 116 it vanished into thin air. "Would have been a pain for me, twice the effort to get out of this place" Louvell looked at his, groggy eyed. Who...what? "F-Fredrick?" that can't be right "You have a body"
"Indeed I do" he sighed, "and you've seen it. Baw. I wanted to keep this little facade going on abit longer. Pooie" Louvell looked at him, confused. Frederick stared back blankly before it clicked, "Oh! Hah, you still don't know it, do you fleabag?" The Gothorita began to giggle, "How sad, it is, that you just had to exert yourself like that. If you hadn't, I would have remained unseeable, and this game, we could play it longer!"
A sandiwich materialized in his arms, "Take this while I explain" Louvell didn't question it. He simply stretched his neck forwards and swallowed it down. Real food tasted *so* good. "This place we're in? Doesn't exist. It hasn't been a hundred day, its probably just been a couple of seconds. Hah" He smiled, a wide grin full of mischief. The Gothorita put his hand on his chin, "And once you realize that this world isn't real, you can break it, like I am"
"how..." Lou looked at him, eye twitching. "You...you could have taken me out of here from the first day?!" Fredrick giggled, "Oh, what? You mean...
Day one
The trees positions were shifted, and the burnt ground and everything that was crafted and made was gone now, simply plain sand and beach and trees like his first day here. "From here, right, you would like to go home from here?" Louvell was in utter shock. How was he even able to bend time like that? This was nonsense, utter nonsense! "Again, did I not tell you I can break this world?" The Gothorita giggled, "Its not that hard, but being a psychic helps~!"
"J..." Louvell collapsed on the ground, "Just get me out of this place. Please. I hate this" Fredrick tilted his head, "You would like to leave me, so soon?" Louvell rolled onto his side, "Y- wait, no, I mean no. Wait, you exist in reality, why not just meet up with me or something?" Fredrick's eyes lit up, "M-meet up? Okay!" He smiled wide, "Then, let me show you just how it is you get out of here~! Ah, yes, close your eyes now..."
Louvell, having no other choice but to trust him, did as such. Everything was still for a moment, before he felt a sharp, horrid pain in his chest. His eyes reactively shot open, and he looked, blood now coating his orange fur. 'Why' was all he could think, why would such a thing be done? Fredrick bent over, ever so cheery. "Nothing personal, sorry! But, to live in the other world, you have to die in this one of course!" A low hiss came out of Louvells throat as the last of his breath tried to flee from its dying chambers, as he saw everything go black.
Mountain
He bolted up from the floor, his chest pounding up and down as he breathed in and out quickly. That was sick. Utterly sick. Ah, a note, on the floor?
' We'll meet again at the end of all others"
...lovely.
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Dark_Hunter-Angelic_Tears Crew
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Posted: Tue Feb 28, 2012 4:19 pm
Erinn Hush now little one, the sun now doth sleep
The moon and the stars now your company keep.
Your pillow’s a cloud laced with silver so fine
So rest now and know you will always be mine.
The first thing to come to Erinn as the light of the Teleport cleared was the low, gentle strains of a fading lullaby. He blinked open his eyes, which had been squeezed shut in apprehension of what he would find at this ominous “Twisted Spire,” only to find the entire area around him shrouded in mist. Contrary to how it had been at the Guild, it seemed that he was completely alone; the Paras certainly wasn’t any Psychic, but it wasn’t hard to tell the presence of people around oneself or the lack thereof, even if one couldn’t see them. ”H-Hey guys…?” the Bug Type called out tentatively through the haze, hearing only the echo of his own voice in response. Even the soft singing from before had stopped, leaving him feeling more alone than ever. Think Erinn! the Paras thought, as a fog of panic threatened to overcome him, What would the others do if they were here? Well that was easy. Erinn could see the rest of his Team facing this same situation easily; it was just like the stories that they always told about what happened on Guild missions.
First Ethfael would take note of the situation: he’d try to find out if there was any sign of the source of the fog, or a way out of it. The Paras blinked his eyes and pictured his Leader standing there beside him, strong and collected as he towered over Erinn himself. The resulting mental construct was strangely accurate, so much so that the Bug Type could almost believe it to be real. The Paras followed the imagined Dragonair’s gaze as he looked about the area, searching all around for a source and finding nothing but the hazy white in all directions. Erinn frowned, as did his imaginary companion. ”It’s all white…” he murmured, looking for any sort of incongruity in the clouds but to no avail. It truly looked as though there was no way to escape this place except by going further up or down, neither option appearing particularly valid as he lacked a means to go in either direction. But this was how fog often was, that’s what Ethfael would say, he should be grateful that he could at least see the claws in front of his face. If he couldn’t find a way out though, what was he supposed to do? He looked to his mental projection of his Leader, but the Dragonair shook his head slowly as if to tell Erinn that he was thinking about it the wrong way. Yes, maybe he was thinking about it all wrong. If the way to the end of the path wasn’t obvious then there had to be some trick to it; and no one knew tricks better than Riley.
As though Erinn had called the Eevee’s name, another mental projection popped up beside the first: complete with hat, cape, and a dramatic bow Riley was now there too. ”This fog doesn’t end!” the Paras informed the Eevee’s projection. He didn’t bother to consider that this was all going on in his head to begin with, so the image couldn’t possibly know what was happening any more than he did. Riley looked at him oddly for a moment, waiting for the Bug Type to catch on to that fact, and abruptly tossed a coin in the air that he’d palmed from who knew where. The Normal Type approached Erinn and showed him the coin with a faint smile, then closed his paw around it only to re-open the same paw and show that the token had vanished. ”Now is no time for tricks!” the Paras said in annoyance, his sentiments seeming to be shared by the still-watching Ethfael projection. Riley rolled his eyes and shook his head, repeating the trick but doing it more slowly as though he was trying to tell the Bug Type something through the action. Erinn scowled in frustration as the Eevee clearly hadn’t taken him seriously, but his expression of indignation slowly turned to one of surprise as a memory stirred deep within his mind. He’d seen Riley do this trick before: he’d watched the Eevee try to teach it to Faran before when the boy had begged to be taught how to work some magic of his own.
Without further prompting, the spirited young Vulpix bounded into existence alongside the other two images, shuffling his paws back and forth and looking generally impatient to get moving. Erinn’s Riley spotted his Fire Type friend quickly, and a smile sprang to the Eevee’s lips as he proceeded to get the boy’s attention and show the trick to the child instead. It was as though the Paras was watching a scene being played out from his memory when the trick was taught, and Riley’s words came to him in a sudden epiphany. ”It’s called misdirection…” Erinn breathed, the words that the Normal Type had said back then coming to his own voice unbidden, ”You draw attention to one thing, to keep the audience from seeing another!” That was it! That was the trick! This fog was here to keep him from seeing where he really was.
The moment the thought crossed Erinn’s mind, the fog seemed to lift somewhat, sweeping away the three projections with it. His vision wasn’t totally clear, but he could see things that he hadn’t seen before. It now became very obvious that this was no vast expanse of nothingness; this was a town filled with buildings and roads. It was a fairly normal town really, very similar to the city streets around the Guild. The only thing really odd about it was that there were, quite eerily, absolutely no Pokemon. Erinn shivered in spite of himself as a chill ran down his spine as he looked through the fog at the buildings and found no sign of life anywhere. Not only that, but there was no sound whatsoever. The normal quiet whisper of the wind or running of mechanical things was totally absent from this place, leaving an unpleasant foreboding feel to settle over it. With nothing else to do, the Paras began to walk down the cobblestone road, hearing nothing but the click-clack of his legs as they met the pavement. The sound echoed loudly in the void of nothingness that filled this place and Erinn swallowed uncertainly. He desperately wished that something would make a noise: anything would be better than this silence.
The more he thought about it, the more panicked the Paras became, and he began to hyperventilate as he looked about for some sign of…anything. He needed some way to break the endless nothing here. Something. Anything. It was, as such, a blessed answer to his silent plea when a familiar tiny figure materialized before him: little Rivia who looked up at him with curiosity as she so often did back home. ”Rivia, what-“ the Bug Type exclaimed in surprise, but he didn’t get any further before the girl raised a single claw to her mouth, telling him to stay silent. Admittedly Erinn felt more than a little foolish for listening to a child’s instruction, but his hope that she wouldn’t disappear and leave him alone again won out over his pride: he desperately needed something to cling to, even if it was just a figment of his imagination. The young Sandshrew seemed to sense his fear, for she smiled gently, almost understandingly at him although she still signaled for him to remain silent.
After he collected his thoughts again, Erinn found that he wasn’t very surprised he’d imagined Rivia alone. After all, the girl was always wandering off somewhere without their permission-just like she was doing now. The Paras started in surprise as he found his mental conjuration wandering off without him, amazed that it could even manage the feat. With a bit of irritation he hurried to follow the girl, moving quickly to keep up with the Sandshrew as she was diligent and steadfast in her progress. As he tagged along behind the girl, Erinn began to notice a quiet sound that gradually faded into focus the more attention he paid it. The sound was a soft and unobtrusive pure tone that seemed like it could have emanated from a tuning fork or something similar and oddly seemed like it had been there all along. The thought crossed his mind that perhaps this was why Rivia had silenced him, but he nearly laughed out loud after he thought it. His subconscious was smarter than he was? That was the most contradictory thing he’d heard in a while. Actually, now that he thought about it, it sounded like something Irilyss would say.
As Erinn raised his gaze to follow Rivia’s path again after his reverie, he saw that she had stopped inquisitively by one of the many buildings of this place. It was there, in accordance with his thoughts, that Irilyss phased into existence. A secretive half-smile was on the Psychic’s face as she picked up the young Sandshrew in her arms and looked over at Erinn, as though she knew something he did not. Well that was excellent. Now he would have to play the Gardevoir’s mind games within his own head, without her even being here. …What was wrong with him? Still Erinn tried to placate his own mental projection, opening his mouth to entreat the Psychic to enlighten him. He was stopped before he started as she too raised a finger to her lips, as Rivia had done before, to keep him quiet and Erinn rolled his eyes in annoyance, but did as he was told. With a second warning glance at the Paras, his projection turned away from him and made her way through the door of the building they stood next to, leaving the Bug Type to follow. So it was that Erinn, with some irritation, made his way inside the large building, failing to notice what he was walking into; namely a large, ominous-looking mansion that stood strangely in the middle of the town, thoroughly out of place. As the Paras walked inside the doors shut behind him with an eerie click that the small Pokemon didn’t hear, for better or for worse.
As he wandered further into the entry of the building after Irilyss and Rivia, Erinn looked about the area before him in awe and gaped at the sight that greeted him upon his entrance. The building really was a mansion, it was easy to tell that from the inside. The vast expanse of its floor was covered in the finest of polished mahogany wood, that carried nary a scratch upon it; the walls were made of dark stone that sparkled in the dim light of the room and curtains of deep red velvet covered the enormous windows; the ceiling was painted with constellations, and the sun within the sea of stars was a grand chandelier. Said ornament was made from solid gold, or so it appeared, ornately spun into impossible curves and laced within itself like a frail spider’s web. Crystals dangled from its ends where the slow-burning candles blossomed from metal flowers, trickling down chains of the same fine gold that made the body of the masterpiece. Beyond the magnificence of the ceiling’s centerpiece, a grand staircase rose to the second floor, drawing attention from the two doorways that led to rooms on the first floor that led to rooms on either side of the main hall. Needless to say Erinn, who had never seen such extravagance in his life, was more than a little overwhelmed.
The strangest part of the whole thing though, which the cautious Paras picked up on right away, was that everything was clean although no one was there. If the place had been desert, as it certainly appeared to be, there should have been signs of it falling to disarray without a caretaker. As it was, it looked like all the occupants had just left only a few moments ago, a thought that caused Erinn to shiver slightly. What would cause everyone in this place to leave without warning? They hadn’t taken anything with them that he could tell, and they hadn’t even locked the door to keep their valuables safe from trespassers such as himself. This doesn’t feel right… Erinn thought, gazing about the room with a growing feeling of trepidation.
While he continued to look about, his imagined companions turned back to look at him. Rivia seemed a bit confused, cocking her head to the side ever so slightly as she attempted to follow his gaze, whereas Irilyss looked rather impatient. The Psychic beckoned to the Bug Type after a time, silent as ever, and when he finally returned his gaze to her the Gardevoir scarcely had met his eyes before swiftly turning and making her way up the stairs. The Paras was helpless to do anything but follow after a display like that, putting faith in his prior conception that maybe his subconscious was picking up on something that he hadn’t fully realized yet. Thinking back to the sound that he’d heard before, Erinn tuned in his hearing to the noise once more as he made his way up the stairs to the others. To his surprise, he found the odd ringing to be much more prominent than before, almost overwhelmingly so If he focused on the sound too much. What was once a soft sound like the ringing that echoes in one’s ears at times had come to a crescendo and become more like the sound that clashed inside one’s head after hearing a loud sound like an explosion: it had definitely intensified now that he was inside the building, but whether that was a good or a bad thing had yet to be seen.
The top of the staircase boasted a long hall extending to either side with doors that clearly led into rooms of some sort. This area was lit by smaller candelabras that were placed on side tables here and there, patterned similarly to the main chandelier's design. The carpets were of the same deep red color as the curtains of the main entryway, and there was a bizarre smell of cinnamon in the air. Upon the ceiling was the most interesting piece to this peculiar mansion thus far: an uncannily realistic painting that looked as though it could come to life at any moment. It was a portrait of a Froslass and Roserade facing away from each other but touching at the tips of their hands. Both Pokemon looked immeasurably saddened as they studied the ground below them, and even though they were together there was an undeniable impression that they were actually quite far apart. Strangest of all, the mural seemed to have been freshly painted for the colors glistened even in the dim light. Erinn stared up at the frozen image for a long moment before looking back down to find where Irilyss and Rivia had ended up, only to find that the pair had vanished.
Erinn looked about uncertainly, unsettled by the sudden lack of companionship he was faced with. He would have called out to them, but remembered a slip second before doing so that they'd wanted him to remain silent. Great. This just showed how worthless he was, didn't it? His own thoughts didn't want to keep him company longer than they had to; that was reassuring. With a soft sigh that scarcely stirred the silence, Erinn grew still and closed his eyes to better listen for the source of the odd sound again. It was close, very close. The ringing definitely was coming from somewhere close by, there was no mistaking it. Eyes still tightly shut, the Paras began to cautiously make his way toward the sound, trying to find its source by relying on his hearing alone: the end result was the Bug Type walking headfirst into a door.
Yelping in surprise, Erinn sprang back and bit down on his tongue so hard that he could taste the metallic tang of blood. Arceus, this was dumb. He was psyching himself out because products of his own imagination were telling him to be quiet: this whole ordeal was making him unnecessarily paranoid. Rubbing his sore forehead, the Bug Type looked up at the door before him. It was a thoroughly normal door, though the wood was dyed a deep black and the doorknob shone a starkly contrasting silver against, yet there was something about the feel of it that made the Paras' claw shake as he reached up and turned the doorknob to slip inside the room.
The moment he stepped inside a bright light became visible that momentarily blinded the Bug Type. His eyes, having adjusted to the dimly lit outer rooms, were hardly ready for the light of the hundreds of glowing candles that burned slowly down upon the floor. He was in a bedroom of sorts, that part became obvious as he began to regain his sight. The room was large and bedecked with similar ornamentation to the rest of the house: the wine-red carpeting and sheets upon the bed matched the color of the walls, and all of these were graced with delicate gold. The smell of cinnamon was stronger in this room, hanging thickly in the air so as to be almost pungent. The candles were on almost every surface, covering the floor and bed and nightstand, and reflecting off of several full-size mirrors that covered the walls like picture frames. There was only one part of the floor that wasn't covered in candlesticks and wax, and that was a narrow path that led behind the door to the right. Curious, Erinn pushed the door back with his claw for a better look, only to receive the shock of his life: not a foot away from where he was, a Roserade was standing and staring directly at him.
In spite of himself, the Paras cried out in shock and moved back to distance himself from this sudden threat only to find that the larger Pokemon didn't react at all. Bewildered, Erinn stared at the Dual Type for a moment before venturing a different reaction. ”H-Hello?” he said, wincing at the sound of his own voice through the deafening silence. Still the Roserade did not move, nor breathe a word, and soon the Bug Type realized that there was something odd going on here. The more he thought about it, the less the Roserade appeared to be looking at him. The other Pokemon actually appeared to be focused intently upon the spot right above the Paras' head; Erinn looked up to see if he'd missed something but found there to be nothing at all. The Bug Type blinked and looked back at the Roserade, only to find that there was something...off about the other Pokemon. The Dual Type was hard to get a good look at, almost like he was out of focus. Taking a deep breath, the Paras made his way up to the other Pokemon to test the theory, moving a claw to pass it through the odd image's leg.
Clink! Erinn's eyes widened in surprise as his claw met with resistance of some kind: the Roserade was certainly there but this substance felt nothing like how its skin should feel, this substance was hard and cold like... Ice. The Paras could see now what he'd been missing before and it didn't make him feel any better. The thinnest layer of ice encased this Pokemon, creating a see-through tomb that kept the body perfectly preserved. The mere idea of it made Erinn feel faint with horror and he backed up several steps to move away from the corpse. With one last look the Bug Type let out a moan and scurried out of the room, not stopping until he reached the front door of the mansion which he pulled at with all his might to force it open, but to no avail. When he finally accepted the futility of his efforts the Paras collapsed to the hard wood floor, stifling a sob and closing his eyes against threatening tears. He didn't want to be here in this haunted place, what had he done that was bad enough to deserve this? Trapped in a foreign place with nothing but a corpse and endless silence for company.
The Bug Type opened his eyes to blurred vision, and surrendered to the hopelessness, allowing the tears to fall. Even as the saltwater drops began to fall to the floor, a light blue fin brushed against Erinn's cheek; it was nothing more than air but when he looked up he saw Phione standing there with a smile on his face as though to say Don't be sad. Raising his gaze further, he saw Avaria behind the young Water Type, watching both the young one and Erinn himself with a firm but kind gaze. His thoughts had come to his rescue again it seemed, to keep him from this dreadful loneliness, but with that happiness came a realization. ”I have to go back, don't I?” he whispered miserably through the clinging silence, ”To find out what's making that noise.” The pair of images nodded in affirmation of his statement, sympathetic looks upon their faces as the Paras dragged himself back to his feet in a rather pitiful manner. ”W-Will you go with me?” he asked them, praying that they wouldn't vanish like the rest so soon, and his prayers were answered as the projections nodded once more in response.
So Erinn and his imaginary companions made their way back the way he had come, though it was a slow-going process. The Paras was beginning to grow hypertensive and unnerved at every little thing after his scare with the Roserade, not wanting to encounter any more of the eerie sentinels. Fortunately for him, this pair of projections was far more patient than the others and gave him the time he needed to catch up with them as they traveled up the stairs and down the hall to the still-open doorway where Erinn had gone before. The Bug Type hesitated outside the room, causing his projections to stop as well and look back at him. Although they couldn't say anything their questions were written upon their faces as they watched the Paras breathe in and out slowly to ease his quickening heart rate.
When he had collected himself, Erinn looked up to find Phione bouncing about him silently and looking as though he were trying to puzzle out the Bug Type's intentions. The Paras looked at the Water Type with a half-smile and wished suddenly that he could hug the little Pokemon; it had been so long since the Team had seen him, it was almost as though he'd vanished into thin air. Phione always meant well, even this projection here reflected that trait which Erinn knew him so well for, but that reality was why he couldn't move forward. ”Phione,” he said softly, ”I know you're not really here, but all the same I'd rather you didn't see this.” The little Water Type blinked in surprise at being told such a thing, just as the normal Phione would have done, but he nodded after a moment and dissipated into the air just as water evaporates. In another moment though, the image of a Pikachu materialized and Eon greeted Erinn with a wave and a smile. The Paras couldn't help but smile at that: it was nice to think that his imagined Phione was thoughtful enough to send someone in his stead. ”Alright, I'm ready,” he spoke up after one final moment to himself, and the other two nodded as one, ushering the Paras onward.
Nothing had changed in the brief lapse of time he'd been gone, much to Erinn's evident relief; knowing that he wasn't dealing with any sort of other presence was somewhat reassuring. He looked over to Avaria and Eon who were both examining the candles and the Roserade with cautious interest, drawing courage from their presence with him. He closed his eyes and listened for the sound again, finding to his surprise that it was easily audible now and he could hear it without trouble the moment he thought of it. The noise was coming from somewhere behind the Roserade and Avaria had already passed by the ice-sheathed Dual Type to examine what was beyond it while Eon waited for him on the other side. Erinn swallowed nervously before hurrying past the unmoving Pokemon, looking at it as little as possible, and the projection of his Pikachu Teammate smiled at him reassuringly before walking with him to where Avaria was.
The Shaymin had located a massive chest of drawers that rang out with the clear sound of the ringing noise. She paced up and down before them, unable to touch anything but held in place by the sound that they were searching for. She and Eon exchanged a look and then turned to Erinn as the Paras tried to decide on the drawer that held the noise. Having no luck with his usual listening trick, the Bug Type proceeded to reach for the first drawer, only to be blocked by Avaria stepping in front of him and shaking her head. ”What!?” Erinn whispered fiercely, ”I'm just trying to find it!” The Grass Type nodded over to Eon and the Pikachu raised a paw, indicating that he needed to be quiet, putting the Paras in quite the sour mood. Well if he couldn't talk then he'd just have to figure this out without yelling at them for getting in the way. How wonderfully convenient.
Seeing as Erinn was incapable of reaching the taller drawers, he began at the bottom. Pressing his ear against the bottom three compartments, he attempted to find the difference between them and succeeded in very little. The sound was practically the same no matter which he listened to, and it was so loud that it was getting hard to tell either way. The Paras was growing tired of mind games and desperately wanted it all to be over. Just so that he could have some piece of mind again and maybe some real company instead of these projections which were practically evidence that he was going completely insane. As he looked up to mention as such though, he found Eon and Avaria gone with no sign of having been there, and his heart sank. Now he was all alone again, and all because of his stupid thoughts. Erinn slumped down to the floor in defeat, hardly caring about the corpse behind him anymore, but as he did so a gleam caught his eye. Something reflected in the candlelight with a shining silver tint that caught his eye from beneath the chest of drawers, and the Paras reached out a claw to pull it to him.
The moment the object was in his claws, it was obvious that he'd found what he was looking for. Holding it close to him made that pure tone ring louder than it had before, like an echo that was trapped in place and could not escape. The small object he held was a silver-spun box that was almost see-though in its construction. When he opened the box, he found a ring to match the box's color with a jewel of the deepest blue that bordered on purple: indigo. The sound came from a mechanism within the box that looked almost like a music box mechanism, but Erinn was somewhat skeptical that such a thing could make a long lasting tone such as what he'd been hearing. There was a small handle on the side of the box meant to turn the music box within though, and so the Paras gave it a try, entertaining any possibility by this point. To his surprise, the crank turned easily at his touch and a beautiful yet haunting melody began to play while the long and unending tone ceased. It was as though this treasure had been caught in a moment of time and couldn't escape, but now he had freed it.
As the melody played, a gust of air swept through the mansion and things began to change. Before Erinn's eyes the candles melted to the ground and grew dark, and dust gathered upon everything to make it as ragged and deserted looking as he'd originally thought it should be. Sheets and curtains grew worn and moth-eaten, and the floor's carpet grew worn, revealing a less than sturdy floor beneath. The box he held too rusted over as the song came to a close, the beautiful silver tarnishing and growing almost black and the keys of the music box catching, never to release their lovely strains again. The only things that didn't change were the presence of the frozen Roserade and the smell of cinnamon, stronger than ever. The Paras set the box down somewhat mournfully, feeling as though he'd just ended something sacred, and looked around the room with regret. It was as he looked that a bright light began to shine and one last projection appeared to him, his Leader herself, Era, smiling upon the Bug Type and looking very proud of him.
”Is it...over?” Erinn asked her, listening to the creak of the shudders in the wind. The projection of Era shook her head with a sad smile, her wings pulsating gently against the dusty gray. Beckoning the Paras to follow her, the Pikachu turned and made her way out of the room without stirring a single speck of dust, whereas Erinn, when he followed, created such a cloud of dust that he could scarcely breathe and was sent abruptly into a coughing fit. Still he followed Era back to the hallway of the second floor and watched her carefully as she looked back at him from where she stood. ”Era I don't understand,” the Bug Type whispered softly, ”What happened to the Roserade? Why was he frozen? Where is this place?” The winged Electric Type smiled sadly and raised a paw to point upward, and Erinn followed her directing. He was surprised to find the ceiling's mural still looking brand new even though everything else was now worn down, the Roserade and the Froslass still remained after all this time... And then everything fell into place.
The painting wasn't just a painting, it was a memory. The Roserade in the bedroom, yes, the more Erinn thought about it, the easier it was to realize that he looked exactly the same as the one in the mural. And he was encased in ice; a gift that most likely came from his lover. The Paras' eyes widened in shock and dismay as he looked back to Era, and the Pikachu's projection nodded sadly just as, somewhere nearby, Erinn began to hear the soft sound of singing. The winged Pikachu approached Erinn and smiled at him as though congratulating him for solving the puzzle, she didn't say anything, just the same as the other projections, but the way that she looked at him made him feel as though he might have done something right. ”I have to do it,” he said to her, not a question but a resigned confirmation. She nodded once more and looked at Erinn with a soothing expression, reaching out her paw to touch the Paras' claw but fading to nothing, as the others had before her, without getting the chance. Erinn took a deep breath an turned his sights to the staircase where the singing came from; he would end this tragedy for the sake of all those involved.
As he reached the bottom of the stairs he found the doors wide open, having been mostly destroyed by wind and weather over time. He would have gone outside but the singing came from somewhere deep within this mansion and he'd made a promise to himself and to Era that he'd finish what he'd started. He moved through the room alongside the hall where he encountered a fancy dining table at which many Pokemon, frozen just as the Roserade had been, had taken their seats. They hadn't known it would be the last time they'd ever see their families when they'd left, such poor unhappy souls who should never have faced their deaths. Erinn felt grief threaten to overcome him as he followed the music beyond the dining hall, feeling nothing but emptiness within him: this had been the fate of the whole town.
When he reached the stairs to the basement, the song was the clearest. Down at the bottom of these stairs was the reason for this tragedy, and he would have to face her if ever he wished to move onward. In order to keep his own sanity he had to right this wrong. He walked down the stairs quietly, pausing at the door to listen to the music. It was the same as what the music box had played, but lyrical and gentle: it was the sound of a mother singing her child to sleep.
Hush now little one, may your dreams be sweet
Let sleep's soft light shadow o'ertake weary feet
Tomorrow brings promise and bright skies above
And I will watch over the child that I love.
As Erinn pushed open the door, he found a lovely Froslass sitting upon a wooden stool surrounded by several lit candles that filled the air with a cinnamon scent and holding a small parcel in her arms. A lanturn sat beside her, glowing brighter than her massive quantities of candlelight put together, and she seemed oblivious to the dust and decay that was all around her, having eyes only for the thing that she held ever so carefully in her arms. The Paras made his way closer to her and the Dual Type remained oblivious to his presence, even when he got close enough to see what she held and quite nearly keeled over right then and there. In the woman's arms was a young Budew that matched her coloring, wrapped tightly in cloths to keep it warm, that was sheathed in ice just like the rest of the Pokemon in this haunted town. ”Ah miss-” the Bug Type began, attempting to address her.
”Hush boy, or you'll wake the baby,” the Froslass said sharply, cutting him off and turning her gaze to Erinn suspiciously. ”Can't you see that she's sleeping?”
The Paras looked at her in a mixture of shock and anger, before the latter got the better of him and he spoke up at last. ”Miss, your child's not sleeping,” the Bug Type said darkly, his expression filled with sadness, ”You killed her.”
The Froslass looked at him and the side of her mouth twitched up to a smile. ”What are you saying you foolish boy? She's just asleep.”
”No. She's not.” Erinn's tone was strong and firm, fed by his grief and fury both at once. ”Look at her. She's dead and gone, covered in ice but still far from alive.”
”Hold your tongue,” the Froslass said, her voice quiet but dangerous; the voice of a person on the edge of her sanity, yet still the Paras persisted.
”I will not!” he said angrily, glaring up at the Dual Type with perhaps as much courage as had ever coursed through his body before now feeding his anger. ”You didn't just kill her, you killed every person here! You killed the entire city! Even your beloved husband is dead and it's your fault.”
”Enough!” the Froslass rose from her seat in a fit of fury, setting her “child” down upon the stool behind her and towering over Erinn in her anger as she spoke. ”I killed them did I? I killed them?! They were already dead! All of them dead to begin with! I saved them! The sickness was going to take them all and wither them down to nothing, just like it did to me when I once was alive! I came back to make certain that none of them had to suffer the cruel and painful fate that I suffered, and now because of me they'll be safe for all eternity!” The Dual Type picked up the lantern beside her and dashed it upon the ground at Erinn, which made the Paras leap out of the way just in time to watch the fire catch upon the old wood. The Froslass cackled at the Bug Type's dismay as the flames leaped to the size of a bonfire within seconds and began to spread above them. ”You can join them too Paras! Join them and be saved or perish in the flames!”
The Dual Type sent an Ice Shard flying in Erinn's direction, and the Paras jumped to the side with a look of terror upon his face; his self-preservation had finally caught up with him and it looked as though there were no way out but fire or ice. Trying to buy himself some time, the Bug Type sent a burst of Sleep Powder at the Dual Type who sidestepped the attack easily but found him already halfway up the stairs by the time the dust had cleared. Scowling, the ghost hurried after Erinn with Ice Shards clearing the way in front of her, a few nicking the Paras as he climbed up the stairs for dear life. He shot a burst of Poison Powder down the stairs for his pursuer to dodge once he reached the top, but soon turned around to find that this wouldn't be nearly as easy as it was before.
Flames leaped all around the Bug Type as the entire mansion appeared to be going up in smoke, and the ceiling was sagging and crumbling here and there, making obstacles of burning fire to be circumvented, as well as the stifling smoke which was already beginning to get to Erinn's lungs. But of course, it was that or the Froslass who was quickly gaining on him now that his brief power barrier had dissipated, leaving him no room to think, only the ability to act as an Avalanche attack shot at him from behind. Erinn duck and wove through the fire, hacking and coughing as he made his way through the rooms and past the melting Pokemon in the rooms, hearing the laugh of the Froslass echoing behind him as he bolted away trying desperately to escape with his life. When he reached the main door he hurried towards it triumphantly, but suddenly his pursuer was there, phasing through the floor and readying an attack that would be his end. He didn't even have a moment to think, survival instinct sending the Sleep Powder bursting from his mushrooms and he raced past the Froslass and not giving the place another glance until he was one the other side of the street. It was there that he watched the doors of the mansion collapse, barring escape for anyone inside and that he saw the fire catch onto the buildings nearby, which continued to grow.
Having no choice but to press forward, Erinn scurried down the street away from the flames and the psychopathic ghost. He made his way out of the town and he never looked back, never saw it fade away into nothingness and be replaced by the bottom of the mountain, only pausing to rest when he didn't smell smoke in the air anymore. He collapsed to the ground and struggled to fill his lungs with precious oxygen, all the while sobbing inconsolably. He was a murderer just as much as the Froslass now, that guilt clung to him like nothing else from the experience. This didn't feel good, it didn't feel right at all. If this was what helping people was then he wanted no part in it. The Paras continued to lay on the rock, tears streaming down his face until there were no more tears to be had. Then he lay there, limply, whimpering softly to himself as he dreaded what was to come.
Hush now little one, rest now in peace
Your blanket is trimmed with the lamb's softest fleece
The birds whisper melodies that sing in your ear
So sleep now my baby I'll always be here.
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