[PKMN OPEN] Redux: The Sinnoh Stories [T]

Junier · Dec 6, 2015

Scene One: Calling A Crowd
Location | Solaceon Town
Starting Time | 5:29 AM
Involved Trainers | None.

Solaceon Town was a quaint, little town. All about it was rugged landscape; towering cliffs and mucky slopes. Still the town stuck out amongst the unforgiving Sinnoh wilderness, the rustic cottages scattered about as if the entire place were handmade. Solaceon inhabitants valued hard work and tradition above all else. Any interruption to the routinely behavior of the farmers and breeders they were not condition to, which was greatly unfortunate for them that particular morning. The League had boasted just yesterday on national television how the Training boom would be "bigger than ever imagined" this year! "Kids of all ages--even some adults--will be trying their hand at earning all eight authorized gym badges. Some may even reach the Hall of Fame..." The idea that so many determined youth were invoking on such a quest warmed the people of Solaceon's hearts. But now as they awoke early, as they did every morning, to innocently tend to their gardens and hatcheries, they looked up to see those same youth charging down the countryside in their direction.

The scene was very militaristic. Children large and small, male and female, armed with parents' money aplenty and Pokemon freshly groomed and trimmed, thundered into the tiny town with only one objective in mind: to stock their little pockets with as many supplies as possible before competition beat them to it. They kicked up dust and trampled crops, as well as one another, and by only five thirty, the entrance to the Pokemart was clogged within moments, the lucky children who ran fastest all forcing entry at once. Their efforts were less than successful; the mart was just a tiny convenience shop that sold Training necessities and little else, so they were all stuck inside the cramped door frame. Solaceon was not like Jubilife had been years beforehand: "The quintessential starting point for all beginner Trainers!" and "One of Sinnoh's must-see cities!" Solaceon was not an entertainment hub, it was exceptionally desirable to foreigners and there was nothing trendsetting about it. It hardly had enough elbow room to accommodate for this sudden bombardment of Trainers.

Hearing the jumbled roars of impatience from just outside the little mart, the cashier sucked air through his teeth.

"Lady, could 'ja please make ya decision quickly? 'Cause I got more customers out there I needa assist." He peeked nervously over the counter to see the entryway clogged with small children all attempting to fight past one another.

It hardly concerned Harley, on the other hand, who was too lost in her strategic purchasing process to glance anywhere other than upwards at the shelved goods, rubbing her chin in thought. "Now sir, I believe you're in no position to rush me." She said this simply, as an offhand comment.

"But--"

"Hmm, now do you think a Repel would be necessary for the route north of here? I've heard it has a lot of tall grass."

The cashier exclaimed exasperatedly, "Shoot, lady! Ev'ry route gotta lotta tall grass! That's just 'a nature of it! Just get yerself a couple a' Pokeballs, alright? There's a cafe on the first route that sells healin' items so don't even bother with Potions, if you really want my advice."

Harley brightened as he finished. "Ah, right! The Cafe Cabin! And I was about to waste money on Potions", she said with a smile. "Okay, what say I buy a Great Ball and..."

The man grabbed his head as if his customer had suddenly inflicted him with a headache. "Honey, I ain't authorized to sell Great Balls 'til ya can show you've earned three Gym Badges. If ya wanna spend 600, buy yerself three Pokeballs."

"Ah, right. Okay then. I'll take those three Pokeballs, as well as..."

Oh, Regi, what else?

"...two Antidotes, two Paralyz Heals, one Awakening, and two Air Mails. I have to write home, y'know?"

The cashier had already rung everything up and eagerly shared Harley's total: "That's 1550, ma'am."

At the sound of the overall price, a significantly less chipper Harley said, "Aw geez, that's a whole lot. How about instead...?" But in what appeared to be one swift moment, a plastic bag containing her purchase was plopped into her hands and she was steered in direction of the exit. The cashier called for the next customer and she narrowly escaped a through trampling from a swarm of ex-primary schoolers.

~ // ~

By five forty, the people of Solaceon recognized reluctantly that the spout of Trainers was not a flash flood but a steady stream flowing into their beloved town. By now, the line outside the Pokemart had grown tremendously and many of the youth had given up on ever gaining entrance with only the more patient ones being able to wait for a number of minutes, though it was wishful thinking to believe there would be anything but a handful of Antidotes and pricey Pokeball variants like Dusk Balls left. Eventually the young Trainers found an alternative solution. Instead of purchase their own supplies, they could win them off of another by doing what Trainers did best.

"Hey, you there! I challenge you! And if I win, you have to give me a Super Potion!"

"Fine, but if you lose, you owe me two Pokeballs!"

"You're on!"

It was a clever idea, but the Solaceon people were less than impressed. Soon children were challenging one another left and right and in such a tight space, it proved problematic. A Machop sent a poor Magby spiraling into a nearby cabin, greatly startling the family inside. Meanwhile, a cowgirl had her hat nearly zapped off her head by a Pikachu's Thundershock. Fortunately, she herself was as evasive as the Starly the Electric attack had missed. In minutes Solaceon had transformed into a close quarters battling arena, with new arrivals having to be nimble in order to avoid the chaos.

It was inevitable that Harley Wakahisa would be challenged herself. Word spread quickly that she had been one of the first to successfully make off with supplies. It made her a target. The bulging plastic bag of purchases dangling from her wrist drew the eye of many a youthful Trainers, like Mandibuzz to a Stunky who chose to cross the road at the worst moment. But which scavenger would dive first, was the question...

Harley was already constructing plans to leave for Rt. 210. There was a significant lack of things to do in Solaceon. She'd considered taking a peek inside the ruins but it appeared to be more of a diversion than anything. Her main priority was to reach Celestic, preferably by that evening, and find breakfast along the way. She also needed those Moo Moo Milks, so the Cafe Cabin appeared to be the next key destination. She assumed there was breakfast there, anyways. "Hopefully they have omelettes."

Right then she would have set off but company made itself known last moment. A hefty group of children were making a beeline in her direction, and it would have been impolite to leave them, what with their somber expressions and way of carrying themselves that communicated, "Don't mess with us, we're serious." Ironically enough, the majority Harley doubted could even reach her shoulder. The makeshift leader at the front of this gang of sorts couldn't have been older than twelve either. He reminded Harley of her cousins with his swept bangs, backwards blue baseball cap and pleather jacket--or perhaps even real leather? (Though Harley was doubtful most families could afford to dress their child in a full leather clothing article.) She decided to take the benefit of the doubt and consider--perhaps even pretend--that he had approached her with friendly intentions.

"Hello, how do you do? You've a very nice jacket." A basic enough introduction, spoken with almost saccharine politeness. Harley's toothy smile must have been a touch too fake because a school kid in the crowd gave a little scoff. "Seriously?" One could hardly see the top of her head.

The leader Harley was addressing, however, looked more confused than anything, as if he expected a different response to he and his group's approach.

"Uh, yeah, yeah. My jacket's pretty nice, it's like one-hundred percent Miltank." He must have taken fondly to the compliment, though he still eyed Harley with puzzlement. Some other kid behind him knocked the jacket wearer in the ribs. The rough reminder led to him speaking in a more serious tone. "Anyway, you've got some nice loot there yourself."

For some reason, that statement spoken by a blonde-haired boy, relatively short for his age, whose voice had not a touch of deepness to it led Harley to breaking into feverish giggling that only bamboozled him further. He turned towards his backers for insight.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! But I just, ah! Loot? Like a pirate?" The hysteria didn't last long--on Harley's part, anyway, as the blonde-haired youngster seemed to become much more irritable as he listened in. Clearly he didn't take too kindly at being laughed it. Technically, that may not have been the case, but a not-so-observant Harley would not be quick in clarification.

"That was solid gold!"

The terrible pun, even packaged with a wink, of all things cringe-worthy, was enough to set the leather-adorned Youngster on edge; the straw to break the Numel's back. "Alright, listen here! If you've got the nerve to taunt me, you've got the nerve to battle!"

"Taunt you? Now, I wasn't--"

"Don't lie! Ugh, now you've got me steamed! If I win this match, you owe me all the Pokeballs you bought earlier! Got that?"

Harley wasn't particularly fond of the youngster's volume. He wasn't exactly intimidating, more of loud. Still, he was growing redder in the face every second. If she didn't accept his challenge, he might burst out of utter rage, and that would only make a greater mess of things. "Alright, alright. I'll battle you. But not for all of my Pokeballs..."

Cries of protests arose from the crowd. "Nuh uh, no way!" "You owe him!" Clearly there had been an agreement made between these younger kids and the boy in-charge. Still, Harley was less than eager to abide.

"Hey, I only have three! I don't have that much to offer."

"Tauros-dung!" spat the blonde boy. "You have so much in that bag alone. What about your suitcase, huh? It's, like, the same size as you are. And the magenta goes well with your outfit."

"Why thank you!"

"Whatever. My point is, you have tons of stuff to give in. So, like, throw in a few Potions or something."

Harley couldn't understand this boy. Someone in the crowd might have addressed him as "Dillon", so she assumed that was his name. She did not have supplies to spare, nor money to spend on those supplies. Perhaps he did with his leather pockets filled with crumpled dollars; she could see the amount poking through. Admittedly she was a touch jealous. "Hmm. Okay, I'll give you three Pokeballs, an Antidote and a Paralyze Heal--"

"That's what I'm talking about!" Dillon said with a satisfied grin.

"--for 1500 in Poke!"

"Pfft, that's not that much." An answer said with a throwaway gesture of his hand that sparked another twinge of jealousy in Harley. "Jeez, these terms are almost too good."

There was a certain smugness to this boy that Harley wouldn't mind taking money from him.
The hour of battle was approaching swiftly and it ignited a hot feeling of competition, tipped with just a bit of anxiety. It was enough to get her entirely pumped. She gave a little twirl. "Well, if you think they're so great, let's get to it then!"

The prospect of battle excited the crowd as well who shifted position to form an oblong shape around Dillon and the squared-haired girl.

"Shall I go first?" Harley offered.

"Heck no! Meowth, show your stuff!" A very eager Dillon let loose his Pokeball onto the field, releasing the cream-colored, whiskered feline sitting on its haunches, fixing its freshly-sharpened claws with its mouth.

"Ooh, what a lovely Pokemon! But I've seen lovelier. Isn't that right, Goofball!?" On cue, the Mime burst from his Pokeball on Harley's end. He stumbled a bit upon release, wobbling on slightly-too-small feet before righting himself and giving a cry of conformation.

Harley's opponent could hardly contain a great burst of laughter. "Ha, nice try! I know that Pokemon: Mime Jr.! If you think your Psychic type knew what was coming..."

Harley eyed the opponent's Pokemon cautiously. It didn't appear to know any Bug type moves, nor Steel, nor Poison. Those were the types Grandpa had said to stay wary of as they'd introduce a level of pain to her poor Goofball who sat rocking on the "battlefield" like a bop bag. Still, knowing Pokemon, those claws of its could probably turn to metal anytime. They'd just have to wait and see.

Dillon was quick to call the first attack. "Meowth, hit 'em with a Bite attack!" The exclamation instantly transformed the creature into a fighting machine. Fur standing on end, it gave a bloodcurdling screech as it pelted across the earth on four legs, mouth gaping. It was bound to hit her Mime Jr. with such close quarters but Harley knew one move that could at least lessen the damage dealt.

"Barrier, Goofball!" The thin telekinetic wall appeared between him and his opponent at just the right time, meaning the Meowth was able to graze the Mime with its fangs before it was knocked onto its back. Fortunately it landed on its back and Harley saw an opening. Dillon wasn't swift enough to anticipate: "Tickle!"

The Mime Jr.'s long, thin arms shot towards Meowth's belly. Immediately, they were mewling hysterically. The Tickle had hit dead-on. Dillon gave a low groan at the scene, covering his face periodically with his hands. The crowd of children seemed thoroughly amused on the other hand. Their laughter magnified Harley's confidence by tenfold.

"Marvelous! Goofball has drastically lowered Meowth's stats!" she boasted. "This should make the battle easier, not that it hasn't been already."

A scarlet-faced Dillon roared from the opposite side of the field: "Don't talk! You haven't even landed an attack yet! But you'll see: Meowth, use your super-effective Bite attack!"

Oh, heavens! Was Bite a Bug type move? Harley's brief period of mulling it over was not brief enough, as Goofball was left to take the attack in his anticipation for an order. The Meowth clamped down on one of his arms. Fortunately, the thinness of it allowed for the Mime Jr. to slip out of its enemy's grasp with relative ease, though he still appeared panicked, wobbling about frightfully and nursing his bitten arm. Though the effect of Bite wasn't as magnificent as Dillon had hoped. Taking notice of his disappointment, Harley blurted out: "Now! Copycat!"

Perking up at the direct command, Goofball glowed a cream-ish color before pouncing--yes, pouncing, with oddly feline-like movement--onto the Meowth and biting down on its shoulder. Now it was time for the other Pokemon to enter a mad state of panic, shaking itself violently in an attempt to knock the Mime Jr. off.

"Are you kidding me!?" Dillon gave an exasperated cry as the crowd laughed further. The sight of a Meowth, writhing and wriggling under a little Mime Jr. hitched to its shoulder via mouth, was clearly a sight to behold. Someone called out "Your Pokemon sucks, Dillon!" which made the youngster appear more tomato than human.

"Let's end this, Goofball!" For Dillon's sake as well, before he suffered a stroke. The Mime Jr. assumed it was finally time to release it's opponent's shoulder. The Meowth was sent spiraling a small distance. Once it finally settled itself onto its haunches, it quickly lost sight of its enemy. Suddenly, Goofball was there. Then, just as suddenly, he was not. The Scratch Cat gave a mew in confusion. In reality, the Mime Jr. was steadily spinning around it. Not incredibly fast, otherwise he would most likely fall over, but the Meowth could only see a pink blur rotating over and over and over again. Soon enough, everything was a blur to it...

Meowth was cross-eyed, pawing senselessly at the air; sure signs of confusion.

"Dam--darn! Dang it! Drat!" Dillon lost all sense of control and threw his hat down at his feet. "You didn't even call that move! What even was it!?"

Harley crossed her arms with satisfaction, a pose that Goofball crudely copied. "That was a Teeter Dance, sweetie. Goofball can do that move on his own. Isn't he lovely?"

"No. He sucks."

"Alright, I'm getting bored. Goofball, end this now with Confusion, would you be so kind?" Harley gave her orders with sugary complacence. Meanwhile, her Mime Jr. took upon a look of focus, thrusting his rounded hands out in front of him and striking the Meowth in the face with an indirect telekinetic attack. It let out a pain-filled "Mrowww!" and flew a fair distance, limbs sprawling all about it as it flew right out of the ring of spectators and right into the same cottage that the Magby had collided with before! The impact with the wall was enough to knock into unconsciousness.

That meant Harley was the winner, inevitably. She flashed her biggest, grandest, stool-eating smile at a defeated-looking Dillon. While he dug through his pockets reluctantly for her reward, the crowd gave jubilant whoops and cheers. It had been a very amusing battle, perhaps not from Dillon's perspective. If only he knew Mime Jr. better than just being a Psychic type...

While Harley crouched by Goofball, offering words of praise as a mother would an infant and the Mime Jr. crying with joy (eerily, very much like a human's cries of laughter), Dillon shuffled over and dropped a few crumpled dollars at her feet.

"There. Exactly 1500. You happy you won? 'cause next time--you know how it goes--I'm pretty much bound to win. I'm gonna learn from my mistakes and basically get so good, my Meowth'll turn your 'Goofball', or whatever you call 'em, into putty. Got that?"

He sounded agitated despite the morose look on his face. Harley could only respond with: "Hopefully it will be less of a cat-tastrophe next time!"

Every sense of emotion other than hopelessness appeared to peter out of him that moment. "Not funny." And he slouched off.

Harley would have basked in the moment more if the owners of the unfortunate cabin hadn't decided to address the continual source of disruption outside, towing along particularly troubling objects. Not wanting to stand too close with a man holding a pitchfork, Harley took up her Mime Jr. and escaped with the scattering crowd in direction of the next route.

Harley' Suitcase

Inventory |

Poké |

1950

Chicken Fingers · Dec 6, 2015

Drake Jones
Mr. Serious

Spoiler:

Drake was pleading with Arceus, to hurry up and make the ball stop shaking. However, that was only the first part of his plan that had to succeed.

Click.

The ball stopped shaking and Drake snatched it up off the ground.

"Yes, now come on out Bidoof!" Drake shouted while clicking the pokeball. "Now Rider, jump as high as you can over to me!" Rider obeyed and popped up into the air. Drake swiftly clicked it and returned Rider. He then sent Rider back out, right in front of him next to Bidoof.

"Now Rider, use bubble! Bidoof, use your icy wind attack!" Drake ordered. The Pokemon were way out of synch, but both obeyed. A flurry of bubbles came out at a slow pace and Bidoof sprayed out cold air mixed with some ice. The icy wind froze the bubbles and increased their speed as well. The opposing Bidoof all continued approaching and were knocked back by the attack. One or two fainted, but the rest of them popped back up quickly, before charging back at Drake. At this point, he had taken several steps inside and had a good view of the whole cafe.

Drake was devising a new strategy when he heard the door open behind him. In popped in a girl around his age, with long pink hair in a pony tail. Her eyes were big and bright and she wore a black vest with a white undershirt. Down below were some blue jeans.

Spoiler:

Drake didn't hear her say anything, but she released a Mr.Mime.

"This seems like a lot of fun!" she exclaimed, while standing there with her Mr.Mime. Drake looked at her for a few moments, until he saw Bidoof and Rider jump to the sides. Drake was then tackled by 3 or 4 Bidoof.

"Come on! I know I'm pretty, but pay attention and battle!" she scolded Drake. Drake had never seen this girl before and he was a bit confused. He decided to shake off the remark and continue on his way. First things first, get these Bidoof off of him.

"Fine, I guess I have to do everything around here. Come on out and use take down Flaaffy!" the girl ordered. The pink sheep came out and charged straight at Drake and the Bidoof. Flaaffy had no problem with the Bidoof, but accidentally hit Drake as well, sending them all flying across the cafe.

Drake lay on the ground, face down for a few moments, before popping back up to his feet. Unfortunately there were more Bidoof there to tackle him once again. Drake was covered in bruises now and his nice clothes had a couple tears. Once again, he was taken down with Bidoof by Flaaffy. This time however, Drake hopped back up to his feet quicker and tried to observe the situation. There were about a dozen Bidoof running around. Rider and Drake's Bidoof were sitting in the corner, using bubble and icy wind to hold back about 8 of them, while one was going after the pink-haired girl. That left 3 of them...

Drake fell to the ground with 3 Bidoof on top of him.

"Now Mr.Mime!" the girl ordered. Suddenly, light shot from the ceiling of the cafe and struck all of the Bidoof, knocking each and every one of them out. Luckily, this attack didn't hit Drake.

Lrachelr5 · Dec 7, 2015

Riker hugs his family again "I'm going to miss you all" he says to his family. His mother cries as they sent Riker on his way. "I will beat the Eliet Four...I have to" he whispers as he walks. He grabbed a pokeball and sent Sammi out to walk with him. "First place to head to is Celestic Town cause of the mythology there, a massive shrine of some kind" he smiles happily to the small blue otter. He arrived on Route 210 and while walking through the fog he was starteled by a cry of a pokemon. "C'mon Sammi" he says running for the noise to find a Budew caught in some net. "Alright Sammi use razor shell to cut the rope but be careful of Budew" He says and watches the pokemon get freed. He grabs a pokeball and gently tosses it at the little bud pokemon watching it shake.

Sonata · Dec 8, 2015

---

The First Of Many

Celestic Town - Gym

The pokemon burst forth from its pokeball and loomed menacingly over the Timburr. The pokemon's left eye was closed and covered with a scar and several of the spikes along its body were cracked or broken.

"Drud." The pokemon snorted. It looked over its shoulder at the gym leader and locked its eye with hers.

Tiamat nodded and then took a step back. "Druddigon! Combo number one!"

"Drud!" The pokemon yelled back as it rushed the much weaker foe.

The claw's on Druddigon's left hand extended and glowed as it slashed across the crowbar that Timmie had just barely managed to defend himself with. The weapon was torn in half and ripped from the pokemon's hands as the Druddigon followed up with a flaming left hook which sent Timmie tumbling across the arena floor.

"Tim... burr..." the pokemon struggled to lift itself from the floor, already damaged so much after having only stepped into the arena. The trainer's neglect was taking its toll, and the pokemon's fatigue was apparent.

Tiamat jumped forward with a smile on her face. The excitement of battle had set her blood to boil. "Hit it with a two and then follow up with a three! Leave it no time to counter you Druddigon!"

The pokemon snorted hard as it rushed up to the Timburr once more. It swung with its left, causing the pokemon to instinctively raise its arms to block, but then Druddigon leaned back and ripped upwards across Timmie's chest with its right claw.

Timmie flew upwards, and while on the brink of total exhaustion and about to faint it opened its eye just in time to see Druddigon fly up from below it. The Druddigon smirked as several more copies of it appeared and circled around the helpless pokemon. Both claws of each copy began to glow as the circle closed in around the pokemon. Timmie winced in pain as it tried to figure out which was the real one.

"Too late," Tiamat whispered.

The copies closed in on Timmie and struck with both claws simultaneously, slamming the weakened foe back down to the ground in a cloud of dust. Druddigon slowly lowered itself back to the ground and crossed its arms before snorting.

Tiamat's smile slowly turned to a frown as she realized what had happened. The match was over. She had won. And now Drake would be forced to leave town without any sort of dignity or pride to speak of. The girl cleared her throat as she tried to think of what to say. "I uh... I'm sorry Drake. But this match is over. Forgive me."

The trainer bit his lip. The shroud of dust was only just now beginning to disperse but Timmie was still nowhere to be seen. They couldn't give up though. It didn't matter if he was knocked out yet or not, he had to get up and continue fighting. Landon surely couldn't take his place in the arena, but Drake couldn't leave yet. Not like this. If he was to leave then he'd be doing it with a badge and the ability to actually come back home and relax every now and then.

A bit of blood trickled down his chin as he bit down harder on his lip. Drake wiped it away with the back of his palm and then screamed out at the top of his lungs, "don't you give up yet you piece of crap! You think you're so big and bad? Then how come you let one little half-blind dragon beat you without even landing a single strike? Why don't you get your lazy butt up and go do something! This can't be all that you have to give, otherwise I'd have never brought you along!" Drake staggered in the direction of the dust cloud. "You hear me? Don't give up. I know there's more to you than this. You are not this weak."

Silence followed, and Tiamat shook her head in disappointment. "I'm sorry Drake. The fight is over. Timburr is-"

"Tim." The cloud of dust had nearly cleared, and within it the silhouette of a small pokemon could be seen. "Burr." The pokemon stood shaking, covered in cuts and bruises from the Druddigon's onslaught but not willing to give up. The pokemon slowly lowered its rockin' shades as a smile crept across its face and its body began to glow.

The Druddigon smiled and let out a light snort. It uncrossed its arms and looked over to Tiamat, awaiting new orders. The gym leader's face spelled out her shock at the Timburr's resilience, but was soon replaced once again by a wickedly excited grin. "Unleash hell." The girl muttered, and the pokemon obeyed. Its eyes narrowed and it dug its hands into the ground, throwing up a cloud of dust at the Timburr before rushing it head on once more.

"In front of you." Drake called to Timmie.

The Timburr smiled as it clenched its two fists together and raised them above its head. The glowing that was covering its body rose through its body and concentrated at the highest point, consuming the pokemon's fists in a brilliant white glow. As the Druddigon appeared out of the cloud of dust with both claws glowing and covered in flames, it was greeted by the Timburr's two fists pounding down on its head.

The Druddigon's head was slammed into the arena, leaving a crater from the strength of the attack and the momentum of the dragon. The Timburr smiled and then began to sway from side to side. And it fell to the ground as its legs gave out. The pokemon kneeled on the ground, hands positioned below it and threatening to give out as well. Sweat dripped from the pokemon's forehead and down on to the body of the Druddigon below.

Several moments passed as both trainers and pokemon alike were striken with shock at what had transpired. But sure enough, once the shock had passed the ground began to quake as the dragon pulled itself from its false grave. The pokemon rubbed its head, gauging the damage the young Timburr had dealt.

"Timburr." Timmie whispered before completely falling to the ground. It was over now. Timmie was down for the count.

Drake walked out onto the arena to where the pokemon lay sleeping. He knelt down beside it and shook the Timburr several times in an attempt to wake it up. But the pokemon wouldn't be waking up any time soon and not without the help of a pokemon center. Drake nodded his head and touched the pokemon's forehead with its ball.

"Rest well."

Drake stood and turned to face Tiamat and the Druddigon that he had failed to defeat. It was over and he had lost. But he had not gone down without a fight. Tiamat approached him and withdrew the dragon back into its ball as she did so. She stood roughly a foot in front of the trainer and bowed her head.

Dusty · Dec 8, 2015

Shaylee Markson
Route 210 / Celestic Town

Shaylee stared at the pokeball in her lap staring admiringly at it in the morning sunlight. Her mind thought back to the night before and the battle, the orb shaking gently on the ground, then flashing as the Hoothoot was successfully caught. It had been her first actual catch, as her Snorunt had been a gift from her friend and the gym leader in Snowpoint, Candice. But to actually catch her first pokemon was something she was proud of, although she knew it would happen many times again.

After the battle she had decided it best to bed down for the night. As much as she had loved stumbling through the woods, sleeping was one of her favorite pastimes, and the meadow she had found seemed like a decent enough place to bed down. She had been camping enough times to know good spots to avoid sleeping on annoying tree roots or rocks, and the freshwater lake dominating half of the clearing sure was helpful for a source of clean water for drinking and washing.

She stood up, brushing the grass off her pants. "Alright my friend," she said to the pokeball in her hand, "let's see what you can do, shall we?" Pressing the button, the capsule opened and with a flash of red the Hoothoot materialized before her, staring up at her with wide yellow eyes. "Alright Neviah," she said, calling the bird by it's new nickname, "I know you've got peck, hypnosis, and confusion, so what else can you do…?" Looking around she spotted a Bidoof slowly waddling by. "Okay Neviah, I'll let you handle this one. Just show me what you've got against that Bidoof!"

The small owl, eager to show off its skills, quickly hopped and flapped its way towards the beaver pokemon. It began a series of attacks, showing off not only the three moves she had seen before, but also displaying wing attack. After a few moments Shaylee called the bird off, "Alright, that's enough, lets leave it alone for now." Immediately Neviah backed off, and the Bidoof huffed angrily before continuing on it's way. "Sorry about that my friend," she said to the pokemon waddling off before turning back to the Hoothoot, "and as for you, that was wonderful! You did a great job, I'm looking forward to seeing exactly what we can do together." She laughed as the bird hooted enthusiastically, the picked the bird up and put it on her shoulder. "There you go, that should keep you from getting tired so easily, huh? Well then, off to Celestic town!"

><><> Later <><><

Shaylee walked out of the Pokemon Center and into the bright midday sunlight, squinting slightly. Okay, she thought to herself, got the team healed up, bought some more potions...what next? She could go to the gym, but there was one thing she had wanted to do first. She had heard about a cave behind the town with some strange carvings in the wall, and it seemed intriguing enough to visit while she was here. After asking for directions from a few people, she soon found herself staring at a dark cave opening. She released both her pokemon from their pokeballs to stand by her side. She didn't dislike caves, but she did feel a little uneasy. Having them by her side helped.

"Let's go guys, see what these carvings are all about." Her two pokemon rushed ahead of her. Neviah eager to get out of the sun and into the darkness, and Aurora doing the same to get out of the summer heat. Shaylee pulled a flashlight out of her bag and followed them deeper into the cave. Her footsteps echoed through the cave, the sound bouncing back and forth, being further distorted with every bounce. After a few minutes and a few twists and curves later the cave opened up to a large chamber. Two torches were burning on the far side of the chamber giving light enough to walk and see by, so she switched off her flashlight.

The etchings on the wall were old, very old. They appeared to be quite worn, despite being sheltered within the cave. She thought that she could make out the forms of what appeared to be two of the legendary pokemon, Palkia and Dialga, at least from what descriptions she had heard, as well as another third form she couldn't recognize. Another unrecognizable form was in the center of the triangle that the other three etchings formed. Reading a plaque on a pedestal in front of the etchings she read: "There are two theories regarding these etchings. The first is that the three etchings represent the three spirit pokemon, Azelf, Uxie, and Mesprit, and that the vague form in the enter is either Palkia or Dialga who are rumored with creating these three Pokemon. A second theory proposed recently is that the three etchings which make up the triangle are Palkia, Dialga, and Giratina, and that the light in the center is a being which created the other three, although who that being may be is unknown."

"Hmm, Giratina… I've never heard of that one before. Definitely interesting though." She looked down at her two pokemon. "That certainly was educational. Now then, what do you say we go see what we can do about that gym?"

Jauntier · Dec 9, 2015

S O L A C E O N
WHEN: 11:00
WHERE: The Bagel Residence
WHY: Starting an adventure
WITH: --

Earnest Bagel
Male | 10 | Trainer

"YOU'RE CRUISIN' FOR A BRUISIN'!"

To Believe That We Are Unreservedly Frank, Pt. I
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

1 ►

Earnest Bagel had just turned ten years old last Tuesday, and as per tradition, his birthday was celebrated with ice cream cake and chores. Well, in truth, he had always done the latter regardless of the occasion, being more of a trade-off to paying cash money for rent, but that day he had seperated the colors from the whites and watered the begonias with extra determination. Earnest was fully expecting to be presented any minute with the ultimate gift, the gift that so many his age were now legally allowed to do all on their own without any adult supervision, discretion, or protection. He was waiting to be told that he was now officially a Pokemon Trainer.

That didn't happen. It didn't happen, and it persistently was not happening for a couple days now. It was only until last night when Earnest couldn't take to one more bedtime lying awake and staring at the ceiling in search of existential purpose, that he rolled out of his fire engine bed, nearly tripped over the unconscious body of his pet Furfrou splayed in front of his beedroom door, and crept up to his mother's chambers to call her from her private reading of Dangerous Lairon to unleash his plaguing greviances.

"Mother," he cried, staggering to her bedside and collapsing over her legs like a throw. "It's been four days! When am I going to finally acheive my dream and become a world-renown Pokemon Trainer?"

To which his mother replied: "You never told me this."

And she was not wrong.

All tensions resolved, we now come to the present:

"Mom," Earnest called, bits of chewed carrots flinging from his mouth as he continued talking, "I'm almost ready! I'm just having another bowl-full for that extra carrot strength!"

"Be careful not to eat too many, Earnest. You'll turn orange."

He, sitting at the kitchen table all by his lonesome, waved aside Mother's comment with a laugh half-choked. "I'm not kidding," her distant voice countered through the doorway, sounding dry. "I've seen it happen," she swore. Earnest picked at his snack in front of him, a pile of half-thawed baby carrots that spilled straight from their packaging and onto a napkin. Swallowing a mouthful of hard, raw carrot, he swept up what few of the snack he had left onto his napkin, bundled it up, and then slipped the stash into the pocket of his shorts. Sliding out of his chair, he excused his one from the kitchen table and went bounding barefoot to meet his mother for the last time.

Creeping through the doorway, he crossed over into the living room. He heard the muffled voice of a man ranting fervently in what sounded like gibberish to Earnest. He approached the back of a tall recliner and peered over the arm. In front of him was the television, and on the screen Earnest could barely make out the figure of a man in a suit pointing to some objects behind him on a table, though the picture was distorted, faintly visible through white static and random warping of the image. Earnest took a step to the side and looked up at his mother, who sat with good posture in her seat, hair tied up in a bun, flowery frock bound tightly over her lean frame, and hands laid in her lap over her 'Kiss The Chef' apron. She did not look at him, only stared at the screen.

"Mother," Earnest began, "What are you watching now?"

"The irrevocable entrophic state of our world ecosystem as evinced at the atmospheric level," she replied, rather flatly. She turned to look him in the eye with a softer tone. "Or so this man preaches." Whenever Mother wasn't busying herself cleaning around the house, tending the yard, and visiting the neighbors, she would be sitting in her airmchair watching local public television programs. All of them were interesting topics to say the least, but most of them were above Earnest's level of comprehension. He was only ten years old, after all. He wondered if atomizing the world level of ergonomics was truly irrelevant, or whatever it was Mother had said.

"Oh," was all Earnest managed, hiking up his cargo shorts. "Well, I think it's time for you to see off this generation's next greatest thing, probably!"

"High hopes have we, dear?" She turned to give him a smile, but he was already trotting toward the front door. Earnest had spied the corner where his bright red sneakers laid, and went to retrieve them. Out of his shoes he picked out his ankle socks, both full of lumpy somethings that jangled inside. He dumped out the contents and counted several coins and loose paper bills before he scraped them up and put them in his pocket. He always kept what little money he had in his shoes so that he'd not forget it the next time he'd go out. Sliding on his socks and shoes, he turned to face his mother behind him, who was now standing with her arms crossed behind her back and a look of love that already tried to hide her remiss. "Now, Earnest," she began, the famous words before a lecture, "I want you to know that I took the liberty of going through all the things you packed last night in making sure you had all the necessities and that everything was organized." From behind her, she pulled out Earnest's trusty Psyduck backpack, stuffed to what looked like its fullest the way that it bulged. The boy's eyes lit up with excitement as he reached for the bag, thanking her.

She continued with a seminary finger in the air. "So Earnest, while I saw that you had packed some of your favorite books, a couple small toys, a flashlight, and several identical sets of your favorite outfit, you were missing some other very important things, so I packed them all in there for you. That includes of course, a bottle of water, 500 dollars--"

"500 DOLLARS?!" Earnest only had twenty-five dollars to his name, not counting the savings bond his mother had never told him about.

"Yes, but don't spend it all in one place! It's only for foods, clothes, and medicine. You've been good with your money so far, so I trust you." Knowing he was trusted pleased him very much, as he looked through the side pockets for the wad of mad dosh. "Now, I also gave you a few food cans to start you off, but listen to me Earnest: Don't ever, ever get the Pokemon biscuits mixed up with the cookies, because Furfrou can't eat macadamia nuts, Earnest. They are fatal."

They both locked eyes for a moment in the morbid silence. To Earnest, the point was driven home: cookies kill.

But the mention of the poodle Pokemon brought up another question. As he tried to slip on his hefty yellow bookbag, Earnest asked where his trusty companion of two years was, as he surely couldn't become a Trainer if he had no Pokemon to train.

"He's outside," said Mother as she knelt down to help Earnest mount his pack. "And Earnest, please, you only have two pairs of pajamas. Don't dirty them so quickly." Earnest had the arms of his baby blue onsie tied around his neck and draping over his back as a makeshift cape, and it was currently pinned between his back and the bag in a clump.

"Mother, I'm ten now," was the retort as she freed the pajama to drape liberally over the backpack. "I'm responsible enough to not get my cape dirty, I promise. I super promise." Mrs. Bagel couldn't contend that, as she surrendered any right to resignation when she forked over half-a-thousand cash for her son to travel the world alone with just his house pet. She gave a slight sigh in defeat at that thought but did not hesitate to agree. Ignited by the trust, Earnest turned around with a dramatic flourish of his somewhat dirtied nightie as he burst through the door, calling out into the late-morning glory of the free world, "PIZZA PARTY!"

Out on the grassy lawn, a lounging, untrimmed Furfrou jolted up on all fours at the call of his name, Pizza Party. The poodle historically for royals leapt and bounded for Earnest, clambering up the steps to the door and stopping just short, panting and wagging his tail. The boy mounted his trusty steed, looking over his shoulder to give his mother a hearty salute.

"Earnest, don't go just y--"

"I'm off, Mother!" He proclaimed with a flounce of his pjs and a glint in his eye. "Fare thee well, fair maiden, for I am now an official--" he dug his rubbery heel into Pizza's flank--"Pokemon Trainer!"

At that, the dog sprung forth with determination, and with the wind in their hair and the sun in their eyes, Earnest Bagel rode off to chase his own greatness.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Summary

Spoiler:

Earnest's mother, Mrs. Bagel, has given him supplies to go out on his adventure as a Pokemon Trainer with his first Pokemon, his pet Furfrou, aptly named Pizza Party. The two are currently seen leaving their house.

1 ►

Pizza Party | M

Jauntier · Dec 12, 2015

S O L A C E O N
WHEN: 11:20
WHERE: The Bagel Residence
WHY: Starting an adventure
WITH: --

Earnest Bagel
Male | 10 | Trainer

"YOU'RE CRUISIN' FOR A BRUISIN'!"

To Believe That We Are Unreservedly Frank, Pt. II
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

◄ 2 ►

They laid sprawled on the ground beside each other, groaning. Apparently, his Furfrou wasn't strong enough to leap off the stairs and land on the yard without his legs giving in from the crushing weight of a ten-year-old boy on top, and so they both howled and rolled off of each other in pain.

His mother stood in the doorway just four feet behind him.

"... So as I was saying, Earnest," she continued, stepping down to help the poor kid up, "I gave you a Town Map so that way you know where you're headed at all times." With a slightly dazed Earnest now standing upright and holding his head, she dusted off some grass from his knees. "And last but not least, I want you to know that I love you and you should come visit me whenever you can, because that's the only way I'll know that you're still alive."

"Cheese and crackers, Mom! I promise I'll be fine," was her son's teasing retort, his smile as crooked as the alignment of his shoulder, until he popped it back in. "Pizza Party and I got this! Right, PP?" He looked down to see his matted Furfrou shake himself free of stray grasses, otherwise back on track with a hearty look in his eye and an affirming bark. Earnest gave him a radical thumbs up.

"Well, alright dear. Here's a kiss for good luck." She pecked his nose, and he giggled from the ticklishness. With a smile, she patted him on the back and turned him straight out to the street. "Off you go! And don't forget to say goodbye to the neighbors!"

"Okay! Don't worry, Mother," he called out as he began to trot down the unpaved walkway, four-legged partner by his side, "When I'm through with my adventure, 'Bagel' will be a household name!"

Mrs. Bagel stood there, waving to her son from her door step for the last time, watching him pick up his bright blue tricycle from the lawn and riding off down the main road with his dog running at his side, they two being the free spirits she always knew they were.

Cruising at a breezy pace, Earnest glanced around as he took in the familiar scenery of the town. Solaceon was essentially a settlement surrounding one vast dirt road that cut through the middle. On this end of town, either side were low grassy fields peppered with stone houses, budding shrubbery, and thriving oaks. It lived up to its name as its general rural quietness could be a solace to those passing through from bustling Hearthome City to the southwest, or commercial Veilstone City from the east. Residences here are rather broadly spaced apart with no real mark of where private yards end and public land begins, but as Earnest pedaled on, his neighbor's house came into sight. "Hey, Pizza," he called out to the Furfrou at his heels, "There's Mr. Copan's house! Let's tell him how we're making it big! Plus I got some unresolved business with him." His eyes narrowed at that last bit. Pizza Party gave his owner a knowing nod before shifting into high gear and propelling himself farther with every hind kick down the road, headed toward the neighbor's porch. Earnest picked up the pace, following in hot pursuit.

"What is it?!" A man's irritated, somewhat nasally voice called out over the muffled sound of incessant barking. "Can't you read?! It says 'NO SOLICITORS' on the mail slot! Engraved: 'NO SOLICITORS'! Look at it! Look!

"Oh."

Mr. Copan, a brown-haired, brown-eyed middle-aged man whose height and renown were equally average, had just opened his front door to a mangy mess of fur and a hunchback boy gasping for breath. "I didn't know it was you, Earnest," Mr. Copan replied with a bit of hesitance. "But... Anyway, the rule applies to you: no solicitors. Okay great, bye now, go away."

Earnest's foot caught the door, much to the man's evident displeasure. "MISTER COPAN," Earnest forcibly wheezed, throwing his weight against the door to take a breath, effectively becoming a near-asthmatic doorstop. "I'M... I'M A TRAINER... MUH--... MISTER C.P."

"Please don't call me that," he quickly interjected.

"MISTER-- MISTER C.P.--"

"Stop. Wait, Earnest? Earnest--" Earnest slumped forward onto Mr. Copan, clutching the man around the waist of his full beige work suit. Pizza Party snorted, sitting himself down on the porch and watching. The man was so off-put by the entire encounter that he stood there with his hands splayed out, clearly looking like he don't know what to do with anything. He continued anyway, whispering. "Earnest, please. Look, normally I'd be reluctant to let you in, but not this time. I've got company over, and this is a private thing. I'm begging you: please go."

"But," the boy began, catching his breath and forcibly talking into Mr. Copan's waist, "I have to tell you I'm a Trainer and I have to return that thing I borrowed!"

"Oh God, Earnest, now is not the time--"

"Hendrick? Is something the matter out there?"

Mr. Copan tossed his head over his shoulder at the sound of a voice that was new to Earnest. It was smooth in quality and sonorous in pitch, and even though the words suggested concern, the man's tone had an edge of impatience. Mr. Copan tugged at the corners of his mouth in an attempted smile as he warily called back behind him. "No sir, just some kid selling for a, uh, a local benefit, is all."

"My name is Earnest Bagel and I'm Mr. Copan's neighb--!" Mr. Copan clasped a hand over Earnest's mouth, glancing down at the boy with a warning look. Pizza Party, who had been keeping quiet the entire time observing, didn't take kindly to the way Earnest's neighbor had put his hands on his owner, and began growling and barking as he stood up to strike a threatening pose. Mr. Copan, as if in a bad situation, cursed under his breath. Earnest quietly reminded him that cursing was not polite.

The voice called out again. "A bagel boy...? And a dog, I hear? That's fine, that sounds nice, the bagels. Yes, Hendrick, let him in." Mr. Copan forced a laugh and tried to protest, but the voice inside sternly cut him off and wasn't having it. "Hendrick. Let him in."

He sighed, exchanged a defeated look with the ever-curious Earnest, and ushered the bright-eyed boy into his house, a huffy Pizza Party following at the grown man's heels.

Mr. Copan is Solaceon's local self-proclaimed amateur archaeologist. It is more a hobby for him since he never actually went to university to study in the field, but he figured that it would be an exciting escape from the monotony of being a financial adviser--his actual career. Copan's living room has a rustic rancher's touch to it, a fair balance of oak and slate infrastructure, with simple but comely furniture design. One can get a true sense of his hobby as sepia-toned maps and inked illustrations of ruins and ancient sites are framed and hanging on the walls. Passing through, the three of them stepped foot through the doorway and into the kitchen area, where at a table covered in documents sat a man in black casual attire and a bolo tie, his salt-and-pepper hair slicked back and a few whiskers bristled on his chin. Soft, light-colored eyes connected with Earnest's as he made a slight smile.

"Hello, bagel boy," the man calmly greeted as he slid some documents into one of the manila envelopes on the table. "I would like one pumpernickel, please."

"I don't sell bagels," The boy chirped. He pat his chest proudly. "I'm Earnest Bagel. I'm an official Pokemon Trainer! And this is my sidekick, Pizza Party!" He motioned with a flowing sweep of his pajama cape to his Furfrou, who turned up his nose with a righteous woof. The older man raised an eyebrow at the display and looked over to Mr. Copan, who kept an uncertain smile. The man in black scoffed and shook his head.

"These names are making me hungry," the man joked. "Hendrick, who are they to you?"

"My neighbor's kid, sir." His tone was very flat. "He's only here to return something of mine, and then he'll be on his way. I promise."

"That's fair. I'll wait."

Mr. Copan nodded his head to Earnest, giving the go-ahead. Earnest gave a hearty salute as he slipped off his stuffed Psyduck backpack, and sitting cross-legged on the hardwood floor, plopped it in his lap and unzipped the main compartment. The two adults looked on curiously as Earnest narrated his own actions, his Furfrou nearby and sniffing.

"Earnest, newfound Pokemon Trainer Extraordinaire and Solaceon resident, reaches into the depths of his pocket-dimension Psyduck power-pack to retrieve the missing Tome of Ancients for Mr. Copan, a.k.a. The Ruined Man..."

"... That's actually a terrible name, Earnest," said Copan. The man in black told him not to live up to the name with an attitude like that. Ignoring Copan's chagrin, Earnest proceeds to pull from his bookbag another white tee, which was on top of a small tourist's booklet about the Solaceon Ruins. Stuffing the tee back where it belongs and kneeling up to stand, he handed over the booklet with a grin to his neighbor, who received it with an insecure smile.

"Thank you for letting me borrow your book about the Ruins, Mister C.P."

"--Stop--"

"Hey! That gives me a great idea!" Earnest clenched his fist as determination twinkled in his eye. "Now that I'm an official Pokemon Trainer, I should check out the ruins with Pizza and see if I can catch myself an ancient Pokemon!" He thrust a fist in the air as Pizza Party barked excitedly.

The older man looked over at Mr. Copan with a sleek smile. "When he said 'check out the ruins with Pizza'," he commented, "I thought he meant actual pizza for a second."

Copan shut his eyes and rubbed at the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath before addressing his neighbor. "Earnest, there are no Pokemon in the Ruins. Trust me, I've been there many times. It's nothing but rubble and strange marks on the walls, and that's it. But I don't think you should go there anytime soon. It's dangerous."

Earnest thought for a moment. "But Mr. Copan, if there are no Pokemon, how is it dangerous?"

"Because--" He made an incredulous look at the question before continuing. "You would get lost in there, Earnest! Didn't you read the book? It's a very big place, and some parts aren't stable, and-- Just don't go to the ruins. Think about how your mother would feel."

Earnest stood there, quiet. He looked down at his bright red sneakers and mulled it over for a moment while Mr. Copan crossed his arms, the man with the slick grayed hair pinched at his lower lip and stared in mild intrigue, and Pizza Party stood loyally by in patience.

"Yeah," he said, picking up his yellow backpack and slinging it over his shoulder as he turned his back to the two. He started to walk off, his trusty dog trotting beside him.

"My mother trusts me."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Summary

Spoiler:

Officially set, Earnest rides on his tricycle with Pizza Party by his side to go and tell his neighbor, Mr. Copan, the news that he's decided to become a Pokemon Trainer, as well as to return a book he borrowed about the Solaceon Ruins. Upon visiting, Mr. Copan tries to reject Earnest from entering, which is not typical of him, but his guest--a man in black clothes, a bolo tie, and salt-and-pepper hair--allows Earnest and Pizza Party to enter. Earnest returns the book and decides he wants to visit the Solaceon Ruins, but Mr. Copan warns him not to go, saying it is dangerous. Earnest, though, has already made up his mind.

◄ 2 ►

Pizza Party | M

Sonata · Dec 14, 2015

---

Shiny Shiny

Celestic Town - Gym

"That was a great battle Drake." Tiamat lifted her head and smiled wide at the trainer. "The way you treat your pokemon leaves some to be desired, but even though you've only just captured Timmie it seems you've already formed a bond together. The ability to be able to trust your pokemon enough to battle without instruction is not something to be taken lightly. And because of that, even though you have lost this match I confer onto you the Legacy badge. With this badge you're now recognized as a productive member of society and a pokemon trainer. You now have the right to live in Celestic regardless of what the elders may say." The young girl wrapped her arms around Drake and hugged him tight. "I'm so proud of you. I know you've been watching me for a while now and to be honest I was worried. But now I know that you're not a total creep. Best of luck on your journey."

Tiamat released Drake who was still sitting dazed and unsure of what all just happened. The leader's Druddigon moved over to him and began to push him through the door as Tiamat waved him farewell. As the dragon finally finished pushing the trainer through the door, its slammed them behind him and with a thud threw itself up against them.

Drake stood and scratched his head for a second before turning around and walking back to his house. He didn't have time for this. Apparently he was about to be forced to leave the house for an extended period of time, and he wanted to get as much of his new goodies watched as possible before he had to leave. But he supposed that first he should heal his pokemon up before he forgot since that tends to happen all too often. If Tiamat hadn't said anything then he wouldn't have even thought to give Timmie the berries. Which even then he still didn't even give it the berries.

The trainer sighed and gave a slight shrug of the shoulders before shuffling over to the pokemon center which was more alive than usual. He hunched over and tiptoed as he went past one of the elders' houses and then jogged the rest of the way to the building. He went to open the door when a young girl rushed up, stomped on his foot and flung the door open.

FireSnow · Dec 15, 2015

Vince Caroo - Day 3 - A New Friend!

Pokemon/Inventory:

Spoiler:

CELESTIC TOWN

Lauryl Caster
Pokemon:

* * * *
Inventory:

Spoiler:

"Well its good to see your alive" Vince smiled as the girl opened her eyes and looked to get her clothes and stood up. Vince blushed a bit and looked away quickly as he realized she only had underwear on before getting her damp oversized hoodie back on. He looked back and it was then that Vince noticed the strange contraption around her right temple and the strange machine on her arm. "I wonder those are... a bit strange" Vince thought to himself. He zoned out a for a bit before her voice brought him back "Name's Lauryl Caster! Not that you asked, but I'm told it's polite to give out your own name before asking someone else's. So if ya don't mind my asking, what do they call you?" she said stretching her hand out. "Oh...uh my name is Vince Caroo and this is Scooter and Bruno" he said pointing to his Buizel and Barboach. "I'm from Solaceon Town and just started out my journey, how bout yourself?" Vince politely asked trying to keep his eyes off the contraptions on her temple and arm as he shook her hand. "Who is this girl?" he thought to himself, a far cry from his usual happy go lucky friendly self. "This is so strange...she's like part robot or something..." Vince nervously thought as he awaited her response trying to keep his smile going.

----

The girl tilted her head slightly in listening to the boy give his introductions, he even gave his Pokemon nicknames. Lauryl smiled widely at the adorable jesture of bonding shared between Pokemon and Trainer. Wasn't particularly her style, but she could appreciate the thought. "Thought I seen ya round Solaceon a few times. I've been just outside the town for about three years, now. Odd coincidence that I've just started out on an epic quest myself." She replied taking her hand back from his, seeing through his attempts to ignore her accessories, Lauryl boldly carried on conversation. "You wanna know what's up with my face, huh? I can knock that Spearow out the sky right now. Suppose, simply put in a round about explanation, it helps me see out this eye in which I naturally cannot." She paused to allow Vince an opportunity to respond accordingly. As far as she knew he wasn't actually at all interested in her implant, and she completely ignored an explanation for her modified PokeGear.

----

Vince's eyes widened in surprise at her response "I'm sorry if I was staring! It's just I've never seen someone like you before!" he nervously said, blushing again "SO you're blind? And how did you create such a contraption?" He asked sitting down a again shaking his head. "I'm sorry where are my manners. I shouldn't be bombarding you like this" he nervously laughed as he knew his mother would be so disappointed in him right now "How bout we get some food first, maybe get you some dry clothes? The food should be open a little while longer." he smiled as he gestured towards the dining area and got up. "The first trainer I meet and I'm already screwing up... what is wrong with me?" Vince thought to himself as he rubbed the back of his neck and recalled Barboach.

----

Lauryl couldn't help but giggle a little along with the nervous chuckles that escaped Vince as he cycled through his inquiries. To which the short dusty haired girl simply responded with. "No worries," however she was then caught of guard as Vince rose to his feet in suggestion of new clothing, and even more so at the mention of food. When was the last time she had eatten anything? And poor Eevee! At that moment as if on cue Lauryl's stomach made an obnoxious rumble, but only once. "Heheh, food sounds good!" As Vince got up returning his Barboach, Lauryl positioned herself to follow her new acquaintence towards the dining room.

She decided to let the questions regarding her temple implant slide away for now, so far they seemed to just throw Vince off. Truthfully she didn't design the neurotransmitter on her temple, and she couldn't remember a time without it. However upon arriving to a table in the dining area Lauryl decided to change to a different topic, one that would hopefully put the boy accompaning her in a better mind set. With that she pulled a Pokeball from her belt tossing it gently as she took a seat. As the ball cracked open the bright light expelled from it quickly took the shape of Lauryl's Eevee, who as normal, shook her silver fur letting shimmering flecks sparkle across the air around her.

"Hey there girl! Bet yer starving huh? Sorry Eevee but food is on i-he-hey! Play nice!" Lauryl mildly scolded her Pokemon which was already charging towards Vince's Buisel, Scooter. Luckily she slowed to a more curious posture after hearing her Trainer's call. After a couple of sniffs Eevee barked her name happily a couple times before shimmying in place. "Sorry about that, she gets a bit rambunctious." Lauryl was now the one with a nervous laugh.

----

Vince smiled and thanked Arceus that Laurly wanted something to eat, never before had he been so dumb in speaking to someone. They walked together to the dining room and he hoped he could just put all the talk about her contraptions behind them and thankfully it seemed she felt the same way. They sat down and she immediately pulled out a pokeball and released an Eevee with silver fur. "Wow! It's beautiful!" he said smiling before it charged at Buizel. He laughed as Scooter got into battle position before the Eevee stopped at its Trainer's command and just sniffed it. "Ee Eevee!" It barked out. "I see that! An energetic little Pokemon to say the least but nothing Scooter can't handle. See its alright Scoot" Vince said laughing and stroking Buizel's back "Go on and meet a new friend." Buizel calmed down and approached the Eevee cautiously before sniffing it. "Bui Bui!" it barked out, enthusiastic about its new friend. "Good to see those two are getting along" Vince laughed "So wanna go get some food? I've heard its a buffet all you can eat and it has bacon!" Vince's voice enthusiastically said as he slightly drooled just thinking about the amazing food just waiting for him. Finally he would get to eat something besides berries and he was going to take full advantage of it. Forgetting his manners once again, Vince stopped, sat down and waited for Lauryl to be ready to get some food.

----

Letting out a sigh of relief, Lauryl was pleased to see how quickly Eevee and Scooter got along. "Indeed it is, and thanks. You know for the offer." She spoke taking her eye off her playful Pokemon and returning her sight to Vince just as he sat down. 'Ladies first I see, so polite.' Lauryl thought raising up from her seated position. She then cast her head to look over her shoulder to make sure her bag and boots were still where she left them. "Haha, gotta have that bacon..well shall we?" The girl inquired motioning towards the forementioned buffet. This time taking the lead Lauryl proceeded to fill up a plate with assorted breakfast foods. Never really a fan of breakfast, or any meal for that matter, however Lauryl did find herself abnormally hungry. As she continued to grab some smaller morsals for her Pokemon she asked out loud. "So, just starting off on your continental stride? Got any plans, or ya just out for the sights?" She half joked, knowing not many if any Trainer started a journey solely on the purpose of scoping the landscape of an entire region, but you never can tell.

----

"No problem!" Vince smiled as he released the tension that had built up inside of him. It seemed that the conversation was finally starting to become normal to him and he could just relax now. He chuckled at how easily Buizel and Eevee got along and wished it had been that easy for him and Lauryl but at least they had reached that point. He rose up out of his chair and followed Lauryl to the buffet line and proceeded to grab all the food he could fit onto his plate, half of which consisted of the heavenly bacon. Vince licked his lips, eyeing his wonderfully full plate of food before Lauryl spoke up again. It seemed Vince would have to wait just a couple more minutes before stuffing his face. "Yes actually, I left home just three days ago and I can wholeheartedly say I've never been happier. It's been amazing and can't wait to continue" " Vince cleared throat before continuing "As for my plans, I'll be doing the gym challenge but that'll be second fiddle to my main goal of just experiencing all that Sinnoh has to offer." A gleam appeared in Vince's eyes as he peered over at Buizel who was continuing to play with Lauryl's Eevee, "You see, I have never been farther than that little creek south of Solaceon and all I've ever wanted to do since I was little was to break out of the small town and explore the world, meet new people, make new friends, and most importantly meet as many Pokemon as I can. I want to experience things that i will never forget as long as I live. If I can have half the experiences I've had with Scooter so far, with all the new Pokemon I'm going to meet, I can proudly say I will have lived a successful life and so far, so good" Vince smiled and looked back at Lauryl and nodded towards the table, "Now why don't we eat this food and you can tell me more about what you are looking to accomplish." Vince turned and headed back towards the table, plate in hand and more proud than ever to be on this journey with Buizel at his side.

----

"Wanna be the Champ, eh? Not a bad aspiration, a commonly sought after one, so it's good to hear ya got a back up plan." Lauryl chimed back in returning to the table. Immediately after sitting she felt Eevee brush against her legs. Picking some of the smaller sausages from her plate she handed them down to her eager Pokemon. Starting with a piece of bacon herself Lauryl looked back to Vince. "So your plan is to live life? Haha, sounds easy enough, get out there and see the world." Lauryl couldn't help but laugh a bit at the irony. 'He really is a sightseer' Lauryl thought.

After taking a few considerable bites of toast, a couple scoops of scrambled eggs, and chasing it with some orange juice the girl continued. "So about me, huh? I guess not much unlike your own primary goal, in the aspects of needing a change of scenery. I mean my main hobby has been trying to design a revolutionary PC System, and that can keep ya grounded in places for times that someone who craves adventure would call unacceptable. In other words I guess I caught cabin fever." She paused to pass Eevee a few more chunks of food. Pondering for a moment she cast her head aside in contemplation, before finishing up with. "Never really thought of going for the regional Badges myself however...I guess that would be pretty exciting."

----

Digging in to his bacon and eggs, Vince listened to Lauryl speak. "The PC system eh? Sounds interesting, too bad I don't understand anything about that" Vince pondered to himself. He grabbed a couple pieces of toast and gave them to Buizel, who grabbed them cheerily and began nibbling on them, a big smile on its face. Lauryl then mentioned something about gyms and Vince perked up at that "Well I'm going to be heading there after this if you want to join me, could see what all the hoopla is about and you could teach me more about this PC system." Vince smiled at the thought of having an audience for his battle. "Think about it."

Vince finished up his food and stood up ready to go, but remembered Lauryl was still pretty wet. Vince then remembered that he had some extra clothes tht might just fit her. "Hey I forgot I said I'd get you some clothes and I have some spare clothing in my room that you can borrow for the time being." Vince said cheerfully, not waiting for an answer before he dashed off to his room, Buizel right behind him.

----

Lauryl watched Vince depart along with Scooter on his heels, after mentioning some spare cloths. Running a hand over the most damp spots of her hoodie she smiled weakly "Gym Challenge, huh?" She asked herself out loud getting up out of her seat patting Eevee in the process looking down questionably to her partner. "What cha think? No harm in checking it out at least, right?" Narrowing her eyes in a determined fashion Eevee growled anxiously shifting in place. "Haha, that's the spirit. Show 'em what we got!" The girl soon after started to move out of the dining area and back towards the lobby to retrieve her bag, still leaving her drenched boots behind, before moving towards the PC System against the back wall.

Luckily nobody was currently using the System at the time so Lauryl moved straight into position hovering in front of the screen. Pressing a few keys she highlighted 'BEBE'S PC' with a mild almost unnoticeable frown, but it was soon replaced by a smile as she pulled a thin USB type cord from her bag and attached it to her wrist band before putting the opposite end into the back of the PC. By striking a button on the screen attached to her wrist a download process started. Looking over her shoulder again to see if she was being on looked, and it seemed so. Upon completion of her modifications via download a new option appeared reading 'LAURYL'S PC.' However unlike most Trainer's who create a user ID this new option was useable for Pokemon Storage rather than item maintenance.

Without actually doing anything else Lauryl took her USB cord back, Lauryl noticed Vince walking up from behind an outfit in hand as he promised. Shifting to put full attention on the boy Lauryl had a appreciative smile. Holding out her hands for the attire she motioned to the computer next to her. "If you want, the PC should be set up for you to make your own Item Storage. It wouldn't be a bad idea if your just starting out might be surprisingly useful." Retrieving the cloths from Vince, Lauryl nodded, "and with that I thank you so very kindly, sir." Giving a small yet appropriate bow the girl began to head towards a restroom near the rear of the Center to change.

----

As Lauryl walked off, Vince decided to check out she had babbled out. He didn't really understand computer stuff but thought he might as well learn a little bit. He logged into the PC and checked out the program. It proceeded to ask him a few questions, like creating a username and password. To make things simple he just chose his own name so it would be easy to remember. He finished signing up and looked at the programs, "Lets see, Pokemon storage, Pokedex evaluator.... ah here it is, Item Storage" Vince clicked on the program. It went on to explain what it was and how a trainer could store items they couldn't fit in their bag and could do it on the computer instead. "Hmmmm... Lauryl's right, this could be useful even if i still don't fully understand it." Vince proceeded to log off and at that moment, Lauryl came back wearing the clothes Vince had given her.

They were just some sweatpants and a shirt but it was all he could. "Hey I hope they fit well as unfortunately it was all I could find" Vince smiled nervously, "Anyways i checked out your program and it does seem pretty helpful for my journey later on." Vince flashed a smile and a thumbs up at Lauryl. "So anyways I'm heading off to the gym now if you want to come!" Vince said happily as he headed out the door, Buizel following closely behind, excited for the chance to battle with his new partners.

Strange · Dec 20, 2015

Scott + Tyrone Moniz

It's a warm, sunny day in Solaceon city. Birds are chirping, but otherwise, it's completely silent. Suddenly, the silence is interrupted by two boys laughing. "C'mon, Tyrone, speed it up!" Scott laughed, looking behind him at his brother. Soon enough the two boys come to an obvious clearing in the trees, revealing Route 210. Scott slows to a halt, with Tyrone not far behind. "Ready?" Scott asked, excited. "Ready for our big adventure across the land, doing Arceus-knows-what?" Tyrone eagerly replies, "You know I'm ready!"

They quickly take off again into the woods, only to be stopped shortly after by a small boy with dark black hair standing next to a bidoof. "Hey! Heyyyy! Wanna battle?" He yelled. "I'd love a battle!" Scott declares eagerly, before getting a poke from Tyrone. "Hey, I want to battle, too!" Tyrone said, crossing his arms. "Yeah, well... I saw him first!" Scott declared, walking back over to the trainer. "Hey! No fair! There's no way to prove you saw him first!" Tyrone glared at his twin, angry, but curious how the battle was going to go. From the looks of it, neither of them had any battle experience, this was going to be interesting. He pulled out his camera, readying it for the battle. This was something that he needed to put in his scrapbook.

Scott laughed, glad he had secured a battle. He fished around in his bag before pulling out a Pokeball, and releasing the Pokemon inside. "Go, Evienne!" Scott shouted, and out from the pokeball emerged a small Ralts, giving a battle cry of "Ra-Ra-Ralts!" The little boy introduced himself, "I'm Barry, and this if Doofus!" Doofus, use thunderbolt! The bidoof looked at him quizzically. "Oh, umm you don't know thunderbolt? How about dragontail? No? Umm, tackle? Yes! Use tackle!" The bidoof lunged at Evienne. Scott tried not to laugh at the boy's struggle with his Pokemon, combined with the Pokemon's name. Between giggles he said, "Ralts, use teleport!" His Ralts teleported away from the oncoming Bidoof, leaving him to stumble and fall where Evienne once was.

Doofus was confused, it had no idea where Evienne went! It used tackle on a nearby tree. It swiveled around, dizzy and out of breath. Tyrone took a picture of the scene. The battle was almost over! Scott smiled, glad to see he had the battle in the palm of his hand. "Good, now, use Confusion to finish him off!" Scotty's Ralts entered a state of deeep concentration, taking small, shallow breaths. Suddenly the Bidoof lurched, as if hit. It groaned a final cry of "Biiiiiiidooooooof." before fainting.

"Great job!" Tyrone replied. "We should get going now, I want to catch a pokemon before lunchtime!" He pulled out his pokeball, letting Bugsy out onto his head. "Come on buddy! Let';s go find you a friend!" Scott smiled at Tyrone's enthusiasm. "I'll beat you to the next town!" He challenged, before taking off, Evienne following behind.

Junier · Dec 23, 2015

↫ Scene Two: Follow the Leader
Location | Route 210 -- North of Café Cabin
Starting Time | 6:45 AM
Involved Trainers | None.

Harley Wakahisa

Café Cabin was a lifesaver on the everlasting Rt. 209. Even the first portion seemed to stretch eternally northwards. Or perhaps it was the thick swamp of overgrown grass, the worn and attenuated pathways and the Youngsters that always popped up when you were least expectant that made it feel so long. After countless turned-down battle requests and taking an embarrassing tumble down a muddy slope, Harley had reached the cabin, her efforts rewarded—for a price of course—with three cans of milk and a glorious sausage-cheese omelette. It wasn't her grandmothers' but it still did wonders for her empty stomach. Goofball found the Moo Moo Milk especially glorious as one sip sent him wobbling all about the cabin-sized eatery; a mighty comfortable place, if not a little tight. Harley supposed the cafe owners also had a tight budget, explaining the constrictive nature of the Cafe Cabin. And that was the only reason Goofball had gone twirling into a chubby Clefairy who toppled ungracefully onto another Clefairy which caused a Jigglypuff to go rolling off in another direction and, before the waitresses could even react to the chaos, the pink puff had ricocheted off another customer's table, spilling jelly and margarine all over the front of their shirt. If the establishment were any larger the entire event wouldn't have been an event at all, just a simple mistake. Harley communicated this to the waitresses but they did not appear to take the constructive remark very kindly. Once bright-eyed and welcoming, they mirrored the ugly glares of their knee-high Clefairy. Harley believed it in her best interest to leave. Shame too, as they hadn't charged much.

She was headed outdoors now, a provided milk carrier in one hand and a suitcase supported by the other, a plastic bag of healing supplies around her right wrist. It was a day of average temperature with scattered, light breezes and sprinkled tufts of cloud like torn cottonballs. The trees were mostly viridian-colored aside from the occasional auburn leaf that signalled autumn was on its way. The sky had transformed during her journey and what was once a pale cerulean with hints of orange was now a brilliant blue. It was a terrific day to go on an adventure, Harley decided, but she wasn't feeling quite adventurous at the moment. Route 209 had been a surprise, a wake-up call almost. Uncle Ringo, the grizzled juggler of the family, had warned her about Training. It was much more difficult than it appeared, and this came from a former League tackler, someone who had challenged the Elite Four (and been wiped by Will). Many children only considered one aspect of it, the catching-and-battling part of Training, but to truly become a champion you had to go far beyond that. It required constant travel in harsh environments, strategic thinking, financial responsibility, the ability to truly relate with one's partners. Ringo might have had, at most, one of those skills. Common knowledge was he "earned" the majority of his badges through fraud. But he was a changed man—("Really!")—and Harley appreciated his advice, though you could not truly appreciate anything without experiencing it firsthand. (Trusting Uncle Ringo entirely wasn't exactly a plan of hers anyway; he'd tried to hand her a recreation of the Legacy Badge the other day.) Just minutes before the cabin incident, Harley had experienced the brunt of the traveling aspect of Training. One moment her left food was digging into the softened side of the ledge, her right hand attempting stabilization by grapping the higher part of the cliff. Next, the sky spun a full one-eighty degrees past her as she slammed down in a puddle of flattened grass and mud. After regaining her senses and some reassuring back-rubs from Goofball, Harley ultimately concluded that adventuring and wedges were a less than ideal combination. She also concluded that she should change her shirt... and that she'd need help.

It took a moment as incredible and appalling as that to turn Harley towards a source of assistance. There was only one group of people she could trust to resolve any issue and that was her family. Those sharp-nosed, purple-haired buffoons, she already wondered how they were. Probably fairing well, probably missing her as recently as she'd begun to miss them. It was a meaningless sentiment but she hadn't traveled very far, hardly past the emerald ocean of swaying grass that was sprawled ahead of her. Other than the occasional pine tree, the area appeared to be consumed in wild grass. Constantly twitching, it was a daunting prospect to even wander near it for whatever might pop out of it was an anomaly to Harley. She decided to continue her brief adventuring break from the outskirts of the overgrown area, laying back against one of the few trees, her bags all about her and her only Pokemon tucked away in his ball.

It was now time to address the Pokedex, tucked tenderly between a cushion and towel in her suitcase in order to protect it. Gingerly, she retrieved it. It gleamed bright red in the sun, the heavy-duty plastic feeling fragile in her hands. Harley seemed hesitant at even opening it in case her long, painted nails might some way scratch its screen. Eventually she did open the boxy device, press down on its buttons, examine its different screens and options. It truly was an amazing device that allowed a plethora of knowledge of Pokemon seen before, of Pokemon she'd never would have considered. Really, there was a Pokemon that could suffocate an Indian elephant? One that looked exactly like an icecream cone? Christmas had come early for Miss Harley Wakahisa who must have spent at least an hour exploring the Pokedex's expansive encyclopedia, wonderstruck, until she received her first call.

"Mm? Who is this?"

"Err, Harley? You there?"

"Grandpa, is that—?" The sudden recollection of why she'd withdrawn the 'dex in the first place made itself known when the ringing erupted from the bright-red device. A flustered Harley fingered the mechanism nervously, looking for the right button, the right point to press on the screen so she may take the call, though she had no idea how she'd respond. The Pokedex was not a phone, she couldn't hold it to her ear. The piece to speak through appeared to be located on the bottom of the device instead. Beginner's mistake. Harley awkwardly flipped the Pokedex over. "Grandpa, is that you?"

"Yeah, it's me. Yer old grandpappy. Just callin' to clear up some stuff with your 'Poke-a-dex' before you leave."

"Oh, no need for that! I can understand how it works. It's very simple!"

"Nah, I mean about numbers or somethin'. Arthur--your dad, only registered my number for some damn reason. Gotta read off the whole... list, 'lest your gadget has some crazy feature that can put everyone's name in automatically. Wouldn't put it past it. Things can do everything now."

Harley's grandpa, funnily her only grandpa, must have shared her astonishment at the sight of the Pokedex. Fifty years ago, he hadn't been provided anything but some balls and a bottle of Fresh Water. Kanto was a ruthless region without a smidgen of mercy for even the youngest of Trainers, Grandpa had expressed. Needless to say, he hadn't made it past the third gym badge.

"It has its limits," Harley called sympathetically into the speaker. "It's really an encyclopedia that works as a phone would." Which was truthful; her Pokedex was a classic Sinnoh model, outdated in some areas, though she would have no idea. The foreign Johto upgrade allowed access to a map of Sinnoh as well as a built-in contacts list.

"...probably has a dowsing function and a trading function... But, err, what were you saying, Harley?"

"Nothing, Grandpa. Now what was that about everyone's phone numbers? They aren't already registered?"

"No. I got 'em right here. ...hold on a second, you may wanna write these down."

Harley rummaged through the front pocket of her suitcase, withdrew a pen. From her plastic bag she fetched one of the air mails in corrosponding envelope, wrinkling her nose at the realization that she'd practically wasted money on them. There was no need to contact via pen and paper when she had the Pokedex.

"I'm ready."

"Alright, alright. This one's your aunt's—"

Static on the other end. Occasionally Harley overheard a stray number, mostly muffled, in her grandfather's voice. Otherwise it was just the fizzing and pops of static.

"Err, Grandpa?"

More static. Then his voice broke through. "What's wrong?"

"I can't hear you. I think you have to speak louder."

"What are you—Okay, I'll try again. Aunt's number—"

"And which aunt is this?" Confident that she could overhear him now, Harley shifted into a more comfortable position on the verge of the grassy plain, laying on her side with black skirt tucked underneath, tapping the bottom of her chin thoughtfully with the bronze-tipped click pen.

"Aunt Petunia. Or whatever you kids call her."

"Flower Girl! She gave me berries before I left."

"Berries ain't flowers."

"Oh, but she loves flowers too. You should hatch her a flower Pokemon, Grandpa."

"Harley, girl, that's not how breeding works!" her grandfather snapped on the other end. "Can't just make life—BZZRT—out of thin air—ZZZRT—gotta—BZZZZRTT—me a—ZZZRTT—"

"Grandpa!?" Bewildered, Harley heard his rants become doused completely in the buzzing static. Less than technically advanced, she fitfully searched the Pokedex for options that would allow her to hear, and when that failed, she shook the device back and forth it in an ineffectual effort. Was the Pokedex so archaic that the upgrade couldn't work properly? Or perhaps it was the audience that had gathered around Miss Wakahisa while she hadn't been looking. The sensation of being gaped at from all directions tempted her to glimpse upwards, out into the endless lines of wild grass. Through the blades, she saw a spot of yellow. It appeared to move. A beak poked tentatively through the tall grass, another one not so far away.

"Now, what's this?" she murmured aloud as the Psyduck appeared around her. Most were tucked away in the grass, others were behind trees which were in turn behind Harley. A few waddled out from the shade of the Cafe Cabin. They were all stout and yellow with flat heads and blank, goofy eyes. Some held their heads in their webbed hands. Some had flatter heads than others, like Bibarel. Some were smaller, fluffier. They lingered about the larger Ducks in the crowd, the females. The most significant Psyduck was also the bravest. It locked eyes with Harley, just a foot or so from the spot she had claimed, waterproof feathers tinted blue and a curious red orb implanted in its forehead, pulsating subtly.

For a while, the two stared one another down, the alpha Psyduck stiller than stone, until Grandpa finally broke through: "Girl! Why aren't you responding? What's wrong with you?"

The Psyduck responded to the sudden noise with shock, its fellows scattering and hollering muffled grunts of surprise. The static reappeared and Harley made a connection.

"Grandpa! Don't speak so loudly! You're scaring the Psyduck!"

For a while, the cloud of static continued to fizz until the Duck Pokemon had settled themselves, the alpha re-approaching Harley and her grandfather's voice also reappearing.

"...Psyduck? Why are you dealin' with Psyduck? Those are Kanto Pokemon."

"Well there's a lot of new Pokemon in Sinnoh now, Grandpa. I thought you knew that."

"Whatever. Why can't you hear me? Are the Psyduck intercepting the call?"

"Appears so."

"Hmph, that's stupid. Only some Psychic types and Ghost types can do that. Maybe Fire types; my friend's Ninetails was a real pain in the a—"

"—Interesting. Maybe one of these Psyduck—", she eyed the blue-tinted one, "—is more advanced."

"Sounds like bull—"

"Grandpa."

"—crap. Anyway, you'd better run those Psyduck off, Harley, 'cause I've got a whole lot of numbers here and you probably haven't written none of them down."

"Alright, but how do I do that?" The alpha Psyduck was making bold steps towards her and she couldn't quite make out its intentions from the blankness of its face.

"I dunno. Throw rocks."

"Fantastic, so they can throw something back at me."

"Alright, smarty. Why don't you use that Pokeflute I lent you? I remember back in my Training days, used it against an old Tauros, got confused and charged in the other direction!"

It was a tempting suggestion. Harley's grandfather had only taught her one solitary song: the Pokemon March, though it was catchy enough in its own right. Whether it would send the Psyduck running for the hills she was unsure. Her playing couldn't be that terrible, but she supposed she could try to play it aggravatingly enough. They did appear to hate sudden noises, after all. The main issue was that one Tauros and a hoard of Psyduck were much different in near every attribute. She expressed this to her grandfather who said: "Trust me for once, kiddo. It should work."

"Well, if you insist..." The alpha Psyduck peered curiously as Harley dug once more through her high-standing suitcase, finally extracting a tall wooden flute with a spherical shape around the bottom, a Pokeball. It was worn and scuffed but ultimately played just as clearly as when her grandfather had wielded it, or so he claimed. No sooner had she retrieved it, Harley put the flute to her lips and pressed down on the air holes. The familiar, high-pitched notes of the Pokemon March arose and the Psyduck went mad. They ran circles around each other, around Harley, dipping and groaning and moaning and gurgling with panic. It's working! Harley falsely proclaimed as she played the march loud and clear for all the Psyduck to hear and flee in terror. Unfortunately as she finished the melody, the Psyduck all stuck around. The alpha was even closer than before, right underneath her and staring up at her as if she were holy. Seeing the lack of success, Harley decided to repeat the song, starting from the beginning.

Doo do-do-do dee deeeeee! The Psyduck bobbed their heads to the song, now familiar with it. They crowded around Harley as she completed the first four measures. Feeling smothered by their little yellow bodies, she was forced to get to her feet. Feeling reminiscent of a piped piper, she began marching in the direction of the grass to hopefully lure the Psyduck into it. Instead they followed her as ducklings would their mother, marching to the beat of the Pokemon March in a trail that followed Harley in every direction she moved in. They bobbed and swayed as she orchestrated, playing more coherently than she ever had. She felt almost obligated to so that the Psyduck never missed a beat. Through the grass they found themselves parading gleefully, the blades swaying past them, though they gave nary a care. Harley and her band of ducks walked circles, lost in the music, while her Pokedex came alight with the baffles shouts and swears of her grandfather.

~ // ~

In the extent of seven Pokemon Marches, the Psyduck flock and their melodious leader had crossed nearly a quarter of the expansive grass-patch. Though they weaved mainly back-and-forth through the blades, too distracted by the music to make any radical progress, they were still farther than where they had started. Naturally they had drawn plenty of attention by this point. The line had grown ever-longer and more diverse as wild Oddish uprooted themselves, Budew emerged from their hiding places at the melodic squealing of the Pokeflute. Still, these Grass types held a sense of timid vigilance that prevented them from ever engulfing themselves completely in the song, for there was danger abound. A specific danger, bound to lash out at any moment.

Slowly and surely, the number of timid Grass types in Harley's band dwindled until all the Oddish had dove back into the dirt, the Budew shuddering invisibly under endless blades of grass. Their sudden disappearance was a signal, though she did not lift the flute from her lips or stop where they were, not yet. Surely she could sacrifice a few steps forward, unless there lay an unpleasant surprise a few feet away. Unless, concealed in the broad branches of an evergreen, a brown-feathered avian with furrowed brow sat perched. Hopefully they were not a certain territorial species, especially sensitive towards vegetation in the land that they'd claimed. Hopefully they were not the brash, irritable type, not especially a fan of loud noises and especially not of the prospect that loud folk could be trampling their treasured vegetation at that moment.

Initiating the eighth loop of the Pokemon March for the trailing Psyducks' pleasure, Harley blew out a high, high C and as if on cue:

"KWAAAA!" A terribly coarse cry erupted in the air with a burst of leaf and feather. A blur of brown threw itself unpredictably at Harley and her Ducks, the result a chaotic wreck of tumbling bodies. The Farfetch'd's lunge struck the three nearest Psyduck, leaving Harley fortunately unscathed. Nimbly, she stepped between rushing, honking Psyduck waddling rapidly in ever direction in a rash effort to escape the attacker. From a distance the Trainer sought to make a notion of them. Two feet tall and tan-colored with huge wings the angriest most humanoid expression she'd ever seen on what was essentially a bird. Nothing too frightening overall, despite the ruckus it had caused; it seemed very Psyduck-esque, what with its feet and beak. Though this... Farfetch'd, she uneasily recalled, was smacking her Psyduck about with what appeared to be a vegetable, beating the poor perplexed creatures over the head with a stalk as if it were a club!

"Training really is an experience, isn't it?" she muttered dryly to herself, believing she'd seen everything at this point. The three Psyduck that had taken the furious Farfetch'd's first Aerial attack tottered about dizzily as it ruthlessly beat them over and over with its unorthodox weapon, hollering battle cries all the while. The way they moved, they way their eyes gleamed victoriously when one Psyduck finally gave in to the beatings, reminded Harley of a dynasty warrior. This was certainly the strangest morning of her lifetime.

Fortunately the flock had begun to re-group, just as a second Psyduck fell unconscious, the Farfetch'd sturdy leek rapping against the back of its head. As their brethren hit the ground, the blue-tinted Duck Pokemon gave a wretched groan before their gem began to pulsate widely. The other Psyduck around them made space between them and the alpha who grabbed their pain-stricken head before a spectacular Psybeam shot from their forehead. The great beam of telekinetic light struck dangerously close to the Farfetch'd. As it exploded near its feet, the avian lifted into the air, disarrayed, squawking and wriggling.

The perfect target! though Harley. If I had something to throw. And she did! Lorenzo's Ultra Ball, wedged uncomfortably in the convenient pocket of her skirt, formed an ugly circular lump. It did not match the stiffness of her attire well. Harley was more than happy to remove it. Remembering her sport-savvy second uncle's advisement, she stepped back on opposite foot, prepped the Ultra Ball in her preferred throwing arm; she was right-handed. The Farfetch'd tried ungracefully to gain height with its large, prehensile wings but appeared to be getting as far as a basic hen would. With confidence, Harley aimed and fired.

The ball flew in an arch through the air; a perfect overhand throw! It hit the Farfetch'd with a satisfying THUNK! The avian moaned as it struck it right in the crooked beak.

The Ultra Ball plummeted, gave a dull bounce and opened wide to reveal a near-ancient inside, utterly ruined.

"Typical Lorenzo."

Her disappointment couldn't afford to last. The Farfetch'd floated to the ground and it was fuming. Comforting its sore beak with one wing, it quickly locked focus on Harley and made a mad rush towards her.

"Typical Lorenzo! Just typical!" There had to be someone to take the blame. When the Farfetch'd aimed an Aerial Ace right in her direction, Harley entered intuition mode and ran. Unfortunately the environment, as well as her damned wedge shoes, established how little of a difference running would most likely make. In seconds, the Farfetch'd gaining distance. Harley couldn't hold off the inevitable for long.

Fortunately for her, her musical prowess had won her the perfect group of body guards. Realizing their maestro was in peril, the Psyduck sprang into action. The two nearest her spit out a stream of water that just doused the antagonizing avian. Its tail-feathers a soggy mess, the hothead swiftly changed targets, making a full U-Turn in order to instead hit the Duck duo. It's intentions were interrupted by a pine tree. The Farfetch'd's U-Turn was a bit too full. They sliced through the leaves and rammed into the trunk. Apparently they were not as graceful as they may have assumed.

In a heap by the tree's base, the Farfetch'd tried in-vain to collect itself but instead it was quickly surrounded by the crowd of Psyduck, aggravated and bitter. Ignoring their earlier migraine, the alpha stomped on the Wild Duck as its fellows did the same. The Farfetch'd's pained squawks were masked under the ceaseless thudding of webbed feet before the long-beaked bird burst free from the defenders and swept the majority back with a whipping of its broad wings. Harley noticed this and made note. The Farfetch'd had many advantages unavailable to the Psyduck. Their wings were perfect for pummeling, plus its additional weapon boosted attack power. Its speed and agility and ferocity outmatched the Psyduck. However, they greatly outnumbered the Farfetch'd, 18 to 1.

In the meantime, the Psyduck were struggling significantly, most of their fighters being forced backwards. The Farfetch'd had been granted enough time to retrieve its leek which was immediately swinging around and about the army's heads. The mass were bruised soon enough. One younger Psyduck had already gone and fainted. Clearly they needed direction while the alpha needed concentration, straining to produce another Psybeam as the one before. Light danced in its gem, yet the blue-tinted bird squatted on the sidelines with hands on its head as if it were suffering the grandest of all migraines.

Harley saw the entire affair to be a pathetic sight. "Oh, please! Aren't you all Water types? Use the Water move you used earlier, then!" It was an unlikely prospect that the Psyduck would understand any of what she was saying. One cast a confused look in her direction and was soon struck in the forehead with the leek once more. Surely there had to be someone that could teach these pitiable creatures to battle effectively. That was when Harley gathered an idea.

"Goofball! I'm in need of your assistance!" she sang, unleashing the Mime into the field of grass. The legitimate Psychic was slow to gather their surroundings, lost in what to them was essentially a forest that tickled their rosy button nos, until they tottered into a place where the grass grew not as high.

"Goofball, I need you to show me a Water attack. Can you do that? Show me a Water-type move?"

The Mr. Mime thought fervently. With the recollection skills of a Psychic, they thought back to the earlier trip down Rt. 210. They remembered being frightened by Bird Tamers popping up from nowhere. They remembered comforting their Trainer after a messy tumble down a mud slope. They remembered the swaying branches of a golden, sweet-smelling tree and Barboach leaping from a murky, offhand pond. The image of their twisting and their splashing stuck with Goofball. They way they spit water from their whiskered mouths was now all he could recollect. Suddenly, he was doing as the Barboach did: placing his little hands by his cheeks to mimic their facial structure, Goofball pretended to spit Water Gun.

"Good, good! That's excellent!" Harley's thrilling praise excited him. He spun and flapped his "gills", squirmed about, pretended to Water Gun this way and that. Eventually the Psyduck noticed, recognizing the behavior of a fellow Pokemon. The way the stranger held its mouth was how a Water Gun attack was produced, and this translated into the fight at-hand. The seemingly clueless Water types were soon defending themselves aquatically as they should have. The Farfetch'd's swiftness was slowed significantly with water spouting from every angle. They were hit in the back, they were hit in the wings, their leek was hit straight from their grip and cast off behind them. That especially panicked them and they rushed to retrieve their weapon despite the blockade of nettled Psyduck that surrounded them.

Harley's plan had excelled further than she had expected. The Farfetch'd was weakened almost entirely now, feathers weighted down with water they, unlike the Psyduck, could not shed. Unarmed, they stood at the group's mercy and were awaiting another pummeling. It was fortunate that Harley had the quick-thinking that she did, otherwise the Farfetch'd may have continued to be a threat to her and Psy parade. Fortunately, the whole ordeal would be brought to a closure soon, she was certain. From her shopping bag she drew a Pokeball. Freshly-purchased just an hour or so ago, this wouldn't lead into another Lorenzo incident. Still, Harley was more inclined to miss as she stood at a farther distance, but she could not waste time. The squabbling Farfetch'd would be reduced to a glimpse if the Psyduck closed in farther. So, she remembered her uncle's advice: stepped back, readied and threw.

Harley's Suitcase

Inventory |

Poké |

450

Jauntier · Dec 25, 2015

R U I N S
WHEN: 12:05
WHERE: Solaceon
WHY: Searching for Pokemon
WITH: --

Earnest Bagel
Male | 10 | Trainer

"YOU'RE CRUISIN' FOR A BRUISIN'!"

What Ruin Unknown To Man, Pt. I
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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The ruins were an ancient place, still wholly intact after centuries of standing the wear of weather and the trial of time, as far as one could tell. Claimed as territory under Solaceon's jurisdiction, the ruins belonged to the town, but hardly did the townspeople visit it. Its chambers drove deep into the side of the mountain, but to see one chamber was to see them all, the residents figured, as the rooms were all too similar: small, naturally-formed caverns whose walls were carved with symbols that resemble man-made constructs. Yet, something about the place was unnatural. Some found that in approaching the ruins, their local conservative talk show radio was disrupted with an odd sound when attuned to certain frequencies, and these sounds would slowly engulf all other signals the farther one entered the cave. Wild Pokemon did not approach the ruins, the townspeople noticed. They speculated that the phantom frequency within the cave could be heard by the Pokemon, driving them away like dog whistles.

One thing was for certain: it was all Pizza Party could hear.

The sound was disorienting as the Furfrou staggered through the dark corridor. The noise reminded him of the sound a flickering overhead light makes when the light switch is halfway between 'On' and 'Off'. The noise reminded him of the residual ringing in his ears when the television turns on and the volume is so startlingly loud that there's a scramble to mute it immediately. The noise reminded him of the silent tone droning on in the back of his mind when he bit into a balloon during his Welcome Home celebration, the hour after being found from abandonment. It made it hard for a dog to think, all in all, as he could barely see a few feet in front of him through the shadows. He needed all the concentration he could get.

If Pizza Party could articulate his thoughts, aside from complaining about the dark and the noise, he'd also complain about the dankness. He was not a dog that cared about his appearance, as he didn't mind if his thick, kinky mess of fur were not brushed so often or left a little muddy, clearly having no shame in public, but the stagnant air in the caverns were cold, and the gritty cave floor at some parts felt damp as well. Or, maybe it wasn't dank. Sometimes when something is cold, one mistakes it for being wet as well, because one can't tell the difference. Pizza probably could if he could concentrate.

He lifted his gaze towards the walls. Where shadows faded out when they met the edge of his field of vision, he saw etchings with strange glyph, their strokes resembling the pipes under the basin of the bathroom sink, or some of the angles made by the metal rods of a tricycle. Some of these things looked like broken wheels, or the shapes different kinds of pasta make when they smack against the kitchen floor after an accident with a bowl of soup. Even more, each one looked to have one eye, as if they were a kind of creature, with wild limbs that jutted out from its core. The Furfrou wouldn't think anything of them. They looked as strange as letters in a book did. And still, it sounded almost as if the trembling noise undulated in pitch whenever he lifted his eyes toward them.

He jolted when he placed his fore paw in front of him, expecting ground, yet touching nothing, only to somewhat stumble forward onto a lower stair. This was the fourth staircase he came across, and though it seemed counter-intuitive to Pizza considering his predicament, he had to descend deeper. He was on the trail of a familiar scent.

After scuttling his way down what looked like hand-cut steps, and having himself a moment of hesitation from a nervousness of the unknown and adjusting to yet even greater darkness, Pizza pressed his nose to the cold, hard ground, and continued. He crept, and for a second he didn't watch where he was going, but he looked up just in time not to knock his head on a nearby stump of rock. With a snort, he stepped around the natural obstruction, only to trip up and fall flat on his snout. With a yelp, he scrambled to get back on his feet, and he turned around to growl at whoever thought it funny to mess with a dog. All he found, curiously, was a line of rope, and one end of it happened to be tied around that stunted stalagmite he just crossed. Looking down, it ran between his feet, and off into the darkness. He sniffed it. Yes, this had been the thing he could smell, as it also had a scent that reminded him of something. Pizza took to sniffing it all the while as he walked over the slacked hemp, treading a good while until he came across the frayed, severed end of the rope.

All for nothing?

All this way, and the rope led the dog into the middle of a chamber among many underground. It seemed the Furfrou was officially lost, led astray, and almost purposefully misguided, for even the dog himself found it strange that someone would cut the rope here, in a dead end. In pondering it, a natural fear began to set it. The Furfrou began to shudder, whining loudly. He lifted his eyes to the walls to see if he could make out any sign of something that could help him, but as he searched, that noise in the aether grew louder. The constant straining sound was pushing itself into the foreground now, even dotted with sliding notes of an unknown nature. Soon, he began to hear something else, something more recognizable in the background, something faint.

Words from a stranger's distant voice.

... You don't get it...

... Do you...?

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Summary

Spoiler:

Pizza Party the Furfrou is lost in the Solaceon Ruins, which is a series of chambers in a cave in the mountainside near town. It's dark and cold in there, and as the Furfrou travels deeper in, he notices the strange symbols on the wall and an odd sound like ringing in his ears. Pizza comes across a rope tied to a stray rock, and follows the rope hoping to find someone, but it mysteriously ends in another chamber, attached to nothing else. The ringing sound becomes much louder now, and somewhere amidst his confusion, Pizza hears a stranger's voice.

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Pizza Party | M

Etherion · Dec 29, 2015

Nathan "Nate" Hamilton

Location: Soleceon Town

Prologue - Dreams

First it was a serene beach, with waves reaching his feet. The moonlight was hidden away in a thicket of palm trees behind him, as a puff of breeze struck his hair, it felt cold. Like it was real. Of course, it's not real, he thought to himself. It was a dream after all. But this dream felt real. But he had no complaints, in fact, the seashore made him feel more relaxed.

He smiled and looked down at the damp sand. "Whisper, your doing this again, aren't you?" He subconsciously asked. Hoping for an answer, he stood and picked up his flip-flops. Still no answer. But he knew that he had done it. A dream that felt real, Whisper is an expert in these kind of stuff. Entranced by the caressing of waves in the sea, he tried to approach it.

One step after the other in the white sand, with occasional pebbles protruding from it. Then, his feet felt water - real liquid, or rather, an illusion. He had to constantly remind himself that it was just a dream created by Whisper. He splashed the water with his foot and then, a strange sound filled the air, it was like something floating upward from the water.

It was close to him - in one swift motion, he turned around. Nothing. Just the moon and palm trees, as usual. Then he quickly spun and faced the sea again. This time, a blob of yellow and black gas appeared right before him. "Nate, hi!" The orb said, rather cheerfully.

"Whisper," he giggled. "Hi! Why did you make this dream for me?" He asked.
"Well, you were stressed out," the matter flew around as it explained. "I noticed you were busy convincing your mother to allow you to go out on a journey!"
"Oh yeah," the boy sulked his head. "Thanks though, this dream made he feel all better now!"

"Your welcome," the orb began to fade. "It's morning now, so you better wake up."

Nate nodded. "Oh! I have a feeling that your Pokemon journey would begin soon!" The boy turned his head to figure out what Whisper had mean, but as soon as the blob had completely disappeared, he was transported back into his bed. All tucked in his blanket, safe in his bed and his room.

There was a knock on the door, he jumped out of bed and quickly opened it. The sudden spur of energy surprised him, maybe he had got it from a restful sleep last night. He turned the knob and his mother bursted in. Holding a bright red bag with black accents, she tossed it toward him and smiled. "Nate! I've decided!" She exclaimed.

Nate caught the bag with one hand. "Decided on what, mom?" He asked.
"Your going to start your own Pokemon journey! Today!" His mom motioned him to go outside. Before he could recover from the sudden news his mother pointed at the backpack. "I've packed some Pokeballs, some potions and few other stuff that should help you on your adventure!" She explained.

Nate and his mother hurried down stairs and to the door. "What made you change your mind all of the sudden?" Nate, still bewildered.

"Oh!" She giggled. "Someone convinced me in a dream,"

"A dream?"

"Yeah, it felt real. Strange dream. Ok Nate! Have fun and be safe! Bye!" Nate nodded.

"Remember to stop by anytime!" His mom waved. "Bye,"

FireSnow · Dec 30, 2015

Vince Caroo - Day 3 - Let the Battle Begin! Part 1

Pokemon/Inventory:

Spoiler:

Vince picked up his pace as he hurried towards the gym. He was so excited to have his first official Pokemon battle and wasn't sure how much longer he could contain his excitement. The answer was not very long. Vince reached the doors, pulled them open emphatically, and bellowed out, "My name is Vince Caroo and I'm here to challenge the gym leader for my first ever official Pokemon League match!" Buizel danced next to him excitedly, ready for a fight. They both quickly noticed that there was no one actually in the room though and let out deep sighs.

"Huh… I wonder where the Gym Leader is?" Vince asked to no one in particular as he stepped inside and began walking out to the center of the battlefield.

"Helloooooo! Anybody here!?" Vince yelled out, "Man it's pretty hard to see in here, where are the lights?"

As if in response, bright white lights turned on, blinding Vince and Buizel. They turned to cover their eyes and give themselves a chance to adjust to the blinding light. When they turned back around a big stage had appeared and standing there was a girl, who couldn't have been much older than Vince, dressed as some weird purple animal with a tail coming out her bum it looked like. Vince was just a bit confused by this but decided to shrug it off.

"Hi there! Like I said, I'm Vince and I'm looking for the Gym Leader here!" Vince pumped his fist with a look of determination on his face.

The girl stood there looking at him, "Well you're looking at her" she said softly, "My name is Tiamat and I'd be happy to accept your challenge."

Vince stood there surprised. This shy, soft-spoken, slightly strange and weirdly dressed girl was the Gym Leader? Vince snapped back to reality as the girl hopped down from the stage and walked to her position on the battlefield.

"This battle will be two Pokemon. Only the challenger may make substitutions. Please take your positions!"

Vince's head turned quickly to the new voice. It was another girl, dressed strangely as well but had more of a blue and red color scheme with another tail seeming to come out her bum but where had she come from? And what's with those tails?

"What is with these people? I'm pretty sure tails coming out of a bum is pretty unnatural..." Vince thought to himself as he took his position on the battlefield, "Whatever I guess, I don't judge. Its time to battle!"

"Alright begin!" the referee yelled out.

Tiamat smiled as she pulled out a Pokeball and tossed it out, "Let's go Dratini! Standby for battle!"
A bright white flash occurred before a small blue serpent Pokemon appeared. It seemed ready for battle. "Don't let looks fool you hun! This here Dratini has a bit of spunk. It's not going to be easy!"

Vince's eyes widened at the sudden change in energy coming from Tiamat. What had happened to the soft-spoken, unassuming girl from less than 10 seconds ago? Vince shook his head as he returned back to the battle.

"Alright, so long as you don't underestimate me! Let's go Bruno!" Vince threw out his Pokeball, releasing the Barboach onto the field. It floated there waiting for a command from Vince.

"Please, take the first move, I insist" Tiamat said, gesturing towards Vince.

"Gladly! Bruno use Water Gun!" Vince commanded.

Barboach quickly unleashed a torrent of water at the Dratini as it closed in quickly, looking like an easy hit. Vince smiled as he watched. Tiamat had different plans though.

"Dratini use agility and dodge!" The Dratini focused and let all the tension be released from it and with that the Dratini was gone.

"Wha-!? Where did it go!?" Vince looked around panicked unsure of where it was.

"Now use Aqua Tail and hit it in the air" Tiamat commanded as the Dratini appeared behind Barboach. Vince's eyes widened as he realized what was happening, "Bruno dodg-", but it was too late. The Dratini's tail glowed blue and turned into what looked like a wave, throwing Barboach into the air. "Now use Twister and end this!" Tiamat's voiced burned with a fiery passion as she knew this battle was nearing its end as the Barboach hung in the air, helpless as the Twister formed around it.

Vince stood there grimacing. He had no idea what to do. "I can't go down this easily, there's gotta be a solution, a way out of that attack" he thought. Vince's eyes widened in that moment as he remembered one thing he could do, "Bruno use Amnesia!"

Barboach obeyed as it emptied its mind as the Twister enclosed around it, causing an explosion. Smoke enveloped the battlefield, both trainers intensely waiting to see the result.

jombii · Jan 3, 2016

Coul Remson

Badges: 0

Coul Remson decided to stop by the Pokemon Mart. It's been a long time since he last stepped foot in Solaceon Town and, while he may not be necessarily staying for much too long, he hoped he have enough time to visit his parents. "Well, I'm not really doing anything much these days. Might as well drop by and give the old people some hug." Drogon growled beside him as the duo walked through the gates of Solaceon Town.

The town was exactly as he remembered it. Despite being at the center of the region and directly lying on one of the major roads in the region, Solaceon Town is quite a sleepy town. While it is true that many trainers do pass this town, there is almost nothing to see here. The Day Care is a noteworthy place but once people have already deposited their Pokemon, they are free to go on about their way and just come back later. The Solaceon Ruins is not someplace that attracts trainers as the only Pokemon that could be found inside are Unowns, a relatively useless Pokemon. Ruin maniacs and archaeologists frequent the place though. I might give the ruins a peek later.

He entered the Pokemart. As expected, there was almost nobody inside except the guy at the counter. He did not know the guy but approached him nevertheless. "Hello. Is Mr. Remson or Mrs. Remson at the back?" The guy nodded.

"Mrs. Remson is out, but the old man is at the back doing inventory. Shall I call him out?"

"Nah. I don't want to disturb him. Just tell him his son dropped by and is heading out for the ruins. Might come home later tonight." Coul told the guy and the latter ensured that Mr. Remson would get the message. Coul thanked the guy and walked out, Drogon shortly behind him.

Junier · Jan 3, 2016

i lied

"Well! That went... well!" Harley cheerfully presumed, despite the violent rockings of the Pokeball. The recently-captured Farfetch'd flailed about inside in an effort to escape, though in other fortunate news, it hadn't succeeded in doing so. When seconds later it still hadn't, Harley felt it safe to approach. While the Psyduck kept their distance from the wriggling object, she strode over and cautiously lifted the Pokeball in one hand. There was a soft, subtle click of confirmation. The fallow-colored feathers of her catch were now matted up against the translucent cover of the ball. The Trainer spoke out with credence: "Yes, a successful capture."

"Not bad for our first catch, eh Goofball?" She turned towards her little Mime who nodded keenly, wobbling over to see the end result of their efforts. Many of the Psyduck were taller than him and he'd hardly gotten a peek over their broad yellow shoulders at the rocking, raving Pokeball and the swallowed-up Farfetch'd's struggles. Meanwhile, these Ducks had their vacuous eyes planted still on the spot where their attacker had once stood. They pointed their beaks in that single direction and continued to ogle; either they were incredibly stunned or incredibly stupid, both the Mime Jr. and Harley thought. The Trainer turned her attention towards her starter again who appeared very pleased with the accomplishment. Harley herself was pleased. It was a motivational thought that they had a creature of such aggression and swordsmanship—if one was thinking technically—under their control. It was like wielding a dragon... though Farfetch'd and Dragons were of completely different leagues!

Naturally the goal now was to keep the old progress train a-rolling. Unfortunately for Harley who had strenuously avoided classic Trainer conflict thus far, she had unwittingly made herself a target. It was logical for a cluster of gold-feathered Psyduck to draw attention, no matter how deadpan they were. And there were so many loops of the peppy Pokemon March that one could ignore before they simply had to pay attention. One particular breeder was enraptured at the moment with this Pokeflute-playing, purple-haired mistress and her parading pack of Ducks. Like a Pyroar on the prowl, he studied her closely, camouflage overalls and bandanna making him obscure to a distant eye. This enigmatic girl appeared to be swooning over a latest capture, though her taste for Pokemon seemed... basic. The breeder sneered from his hidden stance amongst the tall grass. Was that really a Mime Jr. she had selected as her starter? Even the Professor's Pokemon selection outdid that, nowadays anyway. Did it even have any attacking moves? If she wanted a baby Pokemon, there was a plethora of better options, and he as a breeder would surely be knowledgeable of that. For a moment he questioned challenging her. An overpowering victory was never truly fun, nor earned in most cases. But now he sounded like a tired sage.

He sprung from the grass with a flourish, startling all the beings about him. The Oddish and Bellsprout that had grown accustomed to the noisy girl were now completely uprooted and running for the hills. Startled also was the lady in-question with her glimmering earrings, makeup and fake glasses, gawking at him and his much quirkier get-up, clearly thinking as lowly of him as he did her. That meant he needn't not hold back and the breeder crowed: "You don't look like you'd offer much of a challenge, but what say we battle?"

"Challenge...? 'Needn't'...? Camouflage...!? What...!?" He'd shocked Harley by such a margin that she could hardly speak, her words a near-intangible flurry.

The breeder hardly pitied her. "Ha, it appears—now what's the expression?—Meowth's got your tongue! Taken aback, are you?"

"Why, I certainly am!" My, she recovered quickly, and her expression was less than a compassionate one. Her glare was red-hot and her hooked nose and sharpened facial structure only accentuated her anger. Much different when mad! The verbal lashings were already flying off her tongue: "You scared me out of my wits! What are you doing in the grass, anyway? Were you just lurking around, waiting for me to challenge you? Implying I'd agree! How rude!"

"Augh, alright, alright." She hadn't gotten very far into her rant but already the girl was sounding strikingly like the breeder's mother, her slanders not exactly slanderous but nettling enough to get under his skin. "Well, whether you'd like to or not, you have to battle me since I challenged you."

Remembering her constant evasions beforehand, Harley responded: "Since when?"

"Since the '90s! It's the law, look it up! 'If challenged, a Trainer must submit to a Pokemon battle whether they have good Pokemon or not.'" He'd taken liberties in his recital and the girl had noticed. She eyed him suspiciously but she also appeared to be thinking as well. He wasn't going to let her leave anytime soon so she might as well agree, and begrudgingly she did.

"Fine. A thousand Poke if I win!"

"Now that's far too much for a little ol' battle. I won't go higher than five hundred."

"Five hundred fifty?"

"Whatever, but I expect the same amount from you!" With that, he released his first choice after being careful to separate himself a fair distance from his opponent."This shouldn't take very long. I choose you, Roselia! Show your stuff!"

The particular Thorn Pokemon entered the field with a seal-enhanced flash. At their Trainer's command, and without a sliver of modesty, they began shaking their flowering fists back and forth, spreading Stun Spore about the grassy battlefield as if it were a cloud of golden glitter, not a paralysis-inducing obstacle. The Psyduck who had slouched dumbly over the long-since-gone Pokeball were on their feet instantly, warbling out warnings to their fellows and ducking for cover under a stiff layer of grass. Stun Spore was a nuisance at best, not nearly as desperate a situation as they were making it—it wasn't mustard gas! Perhaps a Pokemon of Goofball's deposition, born into captivity, kept around humans and away from the perilous wild, would not understand their reaction. There was also the concept that he had no idea what to make of the wafting yellow cloud and his upbringing did not immediately mark it an obstacle. Not to mention the Roselia's little dance as it shook free the attack from its petals was an intriguing thing to Goofball. During all this marveling and wondering, the spore took its effect and soon he was sneezing and hacking his little button nose off.

A fretful Harley interpreted this as a bad thing. The breeder had slipped right under her nose with a sudden status move. His lack of courtesy was concerning but even more so was Goofball's reaction to the mystery cloud attack. It was like a yellowed smog, shrouding Mime Jr. and muffling his fit, but this was for but a moment as a light gust of wind revealed the Stun Spore's lightness: as soon as it had arose, it disappeared. Lightness, to Harley, translated to fragility and she decided the Stun Spore's effects could not have been entirely severe. She ordered Goofball to Copycat that Roselia's attack, recreate their own yellow cloud, show them what for! Alas, this plan collapsed as the Mime did, his arms jerking unnaturally and his feet refusing to work. He tipped over and fell flat onto his face, a devastating blow to Harley and an invigorating boost to the opposing breeder's ego.

"Oho! Looks like your little Mime got a bit tripped up there!"

"What did you do to him!? Was it that stupid cloud attack?"

"What, you mean Stun Spore? Your Pokemon should have avoided it."

Avoiding a move she'd never experienced before seemed improbable to Harley, yet she was not inclined to argue further. She remembered the extra weight in her hand, aside from the plastic bags hanging there. Farfetch'd! They must be a Flying type. And that dancing thorn plant is a Grass type, certainly. Oh, wait until this dolt faces that aerial attack from earlier! That should certainly shut him up. "Well, maybe he will next time. But for right now, try this on for size!" Returning a very embarrassed-seeming Goofball, Harley did not hesitate to throw down her second claimed Pokeball and release what she decided must be a secret weapon. "Show him up, unnamed Farfetch'd!"

Roselia's next contender was the angriest avian the breeder had ever had the pleasure of meeting. They exploded from their ball as if morally wronged, loose feathers and kicked-up dirt swirling about them as they shrieked wretched cries. Their wings were like a Hariyama's hands, their beak a crooked spear in itself. The true weapon of this nightmarish fowl however was a leek, fastened like a bludgeon, gripped like a sheathed sword. With furrowed bowl and ferocious glare, they gave a final war cry before hurtling towards Roselia, wings slicked against its body; an aerodynamic death machine. Or, in this case, knock-out machine. As immediately as the Farfetch'd had entered the field, their opponent was down for the count!

"Should've focused more on defense options," the breeder grumbled with regret as the Farfetch'd danced around their fainted pocket monster. Their vain hope was that the Thorn Pokemon would rise again in order to be beaten down just as swiftly. "This thing definitely has it out for someone. Good thing I have a counter on standby."

The choice was apparent: his Ice type, Smoochum, though once glance at the critter's blonde hair and puckered lips did not make its typing clear from Harley's end. Farfetch'd's perfect performance against the breeder's first Pokemon showed evidently the Wild Duck's capabilities. still the avian had no plans to return to their Pokeball even with this decision made. They were searing with rage but this animosity was rooted in self-loathing. They hated that they had lost to a crowd of incompetent water sprinklers. They despised that they'd allowed themselves to be seized by a human. They were shameful in being bound to a master and the best way for any Pokemon to express their deeper emotions was by ruthlessly beating the consciousness out of their bretheren. The next victim had entered the field and the Farfetch'd was more than eager to unleash its anger onto them with another Aerial Ace. Taking a running start, they launched through the air.

"Smoochum, Powder Snow!" The Flying-type was heavy-handed yet predictable, the breeder concluded as the Wild Duck ran right into a frosty stream flooding from the Ice-type's mouth. He noticed his purple-haired opponent cringe and gave a hearty laugh. However, to the man's dismay, the icy attack did not prevent the Farfetch'd's momentum. Aerial Ace was a highly accurate move and it was the breeder's mistake that he had failed to recognize this. "I should have done more calculations. That was a critical moment for the opponent... Shoot, she might win now!," he said again to himself, his Smoochum sprawled backwards on the ground after the attack had struck his stomach. The Farfetch'd shook out its frosted feathers with irritation, not far from the Ice type's position. The attack had done significant-enough damage but it unfortunately hadn't been enough. In the meantime, though it was questionable if the breeder could ever reclaim the win, Smoochum was not finished yet. Their eyes spun around dizzily but at the very least, they were open.

The Farfetch'd was steadily approaching. The breeder was confounded as to why. They were casting their shadow over the defenseless, fearful Kiss Pokemon who went frozen in fear, shivering under the avian's jet black stare. From even Harley's perspective now, this leek-wielding bird of two feet became more than a simple powerhouse but also an almost-frightening thing, a creature of intimidation! It followed a moral code neither understood. They did not control its birth, they had little clue where it had been before this moment. It was wild, and wild Pokemon of any species were much different than the tame, softer sort both of them had interacted with for the majority of their lives. Their protests were wasted on the instinctual Farfetch'd that donned their mighty veggie and prepared to continue to battle in a manner the humans knew was uncouth.

"B-but... it's not your turn!" cried the nervous breeder.

"Farfetch'd...? What are you doing?" Harley called from across the field, just as confused.

"KWAAAAWK!" The avian sprang atop the Smoochum, hitting it repeatedly with the leek, smashing and slicing as both human beings mimicked the little 'mon's cries of horror. In seconds the civilized battle had devolved into senseless battery... at least that was their interpretation. Harley immediately sprung into action, recalling the Farfetch'd by slugging it with its Pokeball. It failed against the ensnaring light for just a moment as it was easily empowered, dropping its weapon in surprise before being re-imprisoned in the red-and-white capsule. Meanwhile the breeder ran to his own Pokemon's side, inspecting their wounds. The Farfetch'd had done a number but there was nothing fresh Oran berries couldn't cure, other than the reprimands Harley would have to pay after whatever in Palkia's realm had just happened.

Soon: Harvey addresses Farfetch'd's behaviors, family becomes involved, Pokedex shenanigans.

Harley Wakahisa

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Scene III ~ A Little Confrontation
Wallet ~ 450 P
Location ~ Rt. 210
Start Time ~ 8:00.
End Time ~ Undecided.

Inventory:

Honey Jars (5)
Moomoo Milk Cases (3)
Pokeballs (2)
Antidote (2)
Paralyze Heal (2)
Awakening (1)
Air Mail (2)

gimmepie · Jan 4, 2016

Amari Alden - A Knight in Brown Feathers
Aged 15 | Female | From Veilstone City

Spoiler: Team

As the bizarre bird pokemon continued to step forward, gesturing with the leek it brandished as a sword, it became clearer and clearer to Amari that she wasn't getting out of this without picking up her previous battle with the new opponent. She looked down to see Buzz rolling his eyes, apparently having come to this conclusion a lot sooner than she had… nothing unusual there.
"Alright Buzz, it looks like we don't have much of a choice now does it?"
"Elek" came the somewhat jarring reply that Amari was sure was something sarcastic.
"Well, Farfetch'd is a flying-type so let's try and finish things quickly with a Thundershock."

Electricity crackled between Buzz's plug-like ears before spraying forwards towards his new foe, only to be blocked by a glowing green leek. Grimacing, well it looked like it was grimacing – hard to tell with a beak, the Farfetch'd knocked flung it's wings open ending the electrical onslaught.
"Leaf Blade I think" Amari said "Clever bird I guess?" Amari didn't get to praise the Farfetch'd for long however, because it suddenly lunged forwards like a fencer with it's leak and knocked Buzz off-balance, it then followed through with a Leaf Blade swatting Buzz with the leek and sending rolling over the ground. Weirdly though, the bird suddenly stopped and lowered its leek, waiting patiently for Buzz to return to his feet before retaking a swordsman's stance.
"What?" Amari found herself saying, Buzz indicating he shared similar sentiments "It won't hit you when your down? What an honourable little bird."

Again, Amari's praise of the bird was interrupted as it lunged for Buzz. This time it attacked with its leek shining a vibrant, poison purple.
"Quick Attack!" Amari called, Buzz dodging to the side and then in a blur ramming into the Farfeth'd getting passed its guard and sending it tottering away. "Low Kick!" she instructed Buzz to follow through, the electric-type sweeping low with a kick that tripped up the unbalanced bird and caused it to land on its back.

"Right!" Amari begun but any further words were drowned out by a sudden squawk from the Farfetch'd, the tone of the sound accusatory. Amari blinked, Buzz halting in his tracks. It took both a moment before they seemed to get the point. "Oh… okay. Well get up?" The bird obliged, returning to its fencing stance. Amari found herself amused now, it seemed that the bird was bound by some honour code and couldn't abide by itself or anyone else attacking a downed opponent. So the battle continued on the bird's terms.

Buzz would let loose with an electrical attack, only to have it blocked by a Leaf Blade and then get knocked down by a Fury Cutter or Poison Jab. The bird would get out-paced by a Quick Attack and then knocked down with a follow-up attack. Over and over the two pokemon clashed before respectfully allowing their opponent to return to their feet. It went on for quite awhile, until it looked as though either one would be soon to collapse. Amari knew this was the final round. The Farfeth'd lunged forwards, it's leak glowing green.
"Thunder Wave!" Amari called, Buzz releasing a flash of electrical energy that caught the Farfetch'd off-guard and halted its movements. "Now Thunder Shock!" Buzz smirked, knowing he'd won, and let loose with the electrical attack. It was then that Amari had a sudden stroke of inspiration and tossed a pokeball at the fainted flying-type.

A few hours later, Amari found herself staggering out of the mist of the route and into the quaint, rustic village that was Celestic Town. In the afternoon sun, the town looked quite picturesque. She would explore later though, first she had to get Buzz and the Farfetch'd, whom she had named Lancelot for his chivalrous nature, healed up at the pokemon centre.

She found the building easily enough, and was happy to see few people within. It seemed as though she would have only a short wait until her pokemon were healed – and sure enough ten minutes later she was walking out the door saying a cheery goodbye to the nurse that had helped her… and straight into someone else.

Jauntier · Jan 8, 2016

R U I N S
WHEN: 12:45
WHERE: Solaceon
WHY: Searching for Pokemon
WITH: --

Earnest Bagel
Male | 10 | Trainer

"YOU'RE CRUISIN' FOR A BRUISIN'!"

What Ruin Unknown To Man, Pt. II
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

◄ 4 ►

"I don't think you get it...

"Big Pharma has been successfully cheating us for years."

"I can't talk about my paycheck without you talking politics, Brent."

Around the corner, into the dark, the lone, mussy dog peered. Voices from the background bled into the static-like humming that seemed to reverberate around the chamber. He kept his head low, a soft whine caught in his throat. Everything here was unfamiliar, and Pizza Party could hardly concentrate, but in trying, he could tell that the voices had an actual direction among this eerie, atmospheric noise. Human voices, humans who could help him in his awful situation. This wasn't even a chance to take, it was the Furfrou's only option, it seemed. With ginger paws, he took cautious steps forward, around the bend of the smooth cave wall. His ears perked as he continued to hone in on the voices which seemed to draw nearer, a male's addressing a female's.

"But look," he said, "Hear me out: What's the difference between a Poke Flute and an Awakening?"

"One's... a flute?"

"Yeah, one's a flute, and the other is a manufactured, chemically synthesized, one-use aerosol spritzer, worth 250 off our paychecks."

"But, like, with the flute, you have to learn how to play it and whatever."

"Uh, what? Is that your argument? I can't even feed my sister's cat with that herring."

"You're-- Wow, okay."

The Furfrou was able to hear the key issues about special interest lobbying and wind instruments nearly clearly now, as in creeping around another bend, he came upon a bright illumination. Standing right across the narrow corridor-like room, holding a powerful, modernized lantern to the bizarre inscriptions along the cave wall, were two humans dressed in uniform.

Their attire was nearly identical: they wore indigo-colored caplets, with collars that grazed over their chins and whose length cut off right above the elbows, with white trim that mimicked a zipper path down the front of it. Underneath they wore a tight-fitted suit of a darker shade of purple, with white trim like contours down their chest and waists, and again down their outer and inner thighs, each instance rounded off as a long, oblong shape. One of them seemed to be wearing a skirt or a dress with leggings that mimicked the color and pattern of the other standing beside them, who wore what seemed to be just a bodysuit, They both wore white boots that rose to the knees, the human with a more feminine shape had her boots reach over. Right above their heels was an inky purple stripe that wrapped around from their ankles, the only other accent on their boots. The humans also wore matching white gloves that reached up near the elbows, and on their hips were thick chrome belts, clipped to their sides were small Pokeballs in their compact form. From the angle Pizza Party was, he was able to see a large letter C-shaped buckle, which appeared to be black with a white outline. As the female human looked up at the male with lips pressed thinly and a wrinkle on her brow, Pizza couldn't see either of their actual faces through their dark, inky, black-trim visors. The young adults both also wore similar hairstyles: hair dyed a light, bright blonde and gelled back to a winged point, looking very aerodynamic.

The woman crossed her arms and pitched her hip in an incredulous pose at the man. He gave her a once over and let out a big groan. "Okay, look, I'm sorry, but you know this was unavoidable," he rather abstractly blamed.

"Don't even talk to me, Brent," was her huffy retort as she started to step right on by, lantern hanging off her wrist.

"Jen!" He called after her, his hand flipped in motion of disbelief. "Jen! What-- Seriously? It's not my fault they garnish your paychecks!"

Before it turned into a heated debate about her student loans and privatized Trainer Schools, Pizza Party needed to get a word in edgewise before his two chances to settle his emergency stormed away and left him with the ringing in his ears. Though his head low, he took a deep doggy breath, put his best paw forward, and yelped. There was a girlish cry as a lantern crashed to the floor, feet stumbled, and a shapely rump felled flat on the floor. Jen, on the other hand, glanced over her shoulder and held up her light to see what was up.

"Oh, look!" Jen cooed, "It's a little Furfrou!" She canted her head to the side as she stepped over a startled Brent and carefully made her way toward the coarse-haired dog, hands pressed to her cheeks, pushing her lips out. Pizza Party whined as she approached, glancing over his shoulder, his anxiousness swelling with the seeming crescendo of the strange droning sounds. Brent, having shot himself up on his feet to save himself the embarrassment, looked up from dusting his knees to see the bowing, canine-shaped mess of fibers a few feet from him.

He asked, "A Furfrou? Those designer pedigrees poodles for the hoity-toity bourgeoisie?" He twisted his mouth at the thought of the upper crust and their disproportionately advantageous tax cuts. "You figure its owner is some stinky cheese-eating big shot lost in the Ruins somewhere?"

"It looks way too mangy for that. Look at it's fur!" She had pet the dog on its densely-tufted head, which Pizza Party allowed as the contact was rather reassuring. As she pinched off a lock of the tangled, matted mess to show to Brent as he now peered over her shoulder, he grunted. Brent then suggested that, as Furfrou were not at all native to the region, Pizza Party was abandoned. Even through the maddening noise in his ear, Pizza picked up on that last word. It seemed to the dog like humans always knew of that time in his life when he truly was abandoned. Worse still, that they could just look at him as he was and guess that. It was what he understood it to be in his little poodle mind, true or not. He shut his eyes and began to bark. He wasn't there for a bad memory. He was there because he needed them to follow him back, somehow, someway, through the chambers and chambers he so listlessly ambled through. He didn't know his way back, but if he started to lead them on, then maybe they'd get the point and take the lead. Maybe there was hope.

The frantic barking as he peered up at the uniformed pair had them step back, startled. It was not the response they were expecting from the dog. Likewise, it wasn't Pizza Party's expectation, when the man shouted something with a sharp turn of his head, to so suddenly and painfully feel steel, and then cold, hard ground.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Summary

Spoiler:

Pizza Party comes across a young man and woman in the ruins who happen to be wearing identical uniforms, with a mysterious C-shaped insignia on their belts. The Furfrou, anxious from the worsening ringing in his ears and needing to get back to where he came as soon as possible, barks to get their attention. The two strangers approach Pizza Party, but in trying to show them his urgency, startles them with another bark, which leads to a violent knee-jerk reaction.

◄ 4 ►

Pizza Party | M

jombii · Jan 11, 2016

Coul Remson

Badges: 0

Coul decided to give the ruins a visit. It's been far too long since he has been in the area but he have never even taken a peek inside the famous ruins. His father used to say that the ruins are a gateway to another dimension and that Unown, the only Pokemon to be found inside ruins, is a guardian of some sort. Of course, nobody has proven this despite the countless scientists and archaelogists (and droves of conspiracy nuts) who researched the place.

The ruins was located to the east of Solaceon Town and can be accessed through a small path dotted with trees and ledges. Getting to the ruins was not hard; Solaceon Town had its tourist destination and would not want to deter possible clients away from the town just because the ruins are inaccessible. "Come on, Drogon."

The air inside the ruins are stale. There are very few people inside the ruins but that was not surprising. There were a few Unowns floating around, lazily as it is but Coul had no care for the species. He knew from his studies that Unowns are just bad Pokemon surrounded by a mystical air. "Hidden Power? Meh." However, he could feel Drogon raring to go at the Unown as the bristles on his neck is standing up. "Calm down."

Coul ran his hand along the sides of the ruin walls. There were a bunch of Unown glyph inscribed on the stone walls. Coul could easily read them as the pattern is similar to everyday letters. It is unknown, however, which came first. Many scholars said that the language is patterned from the symbols the Unown make but some say that Unown is born wherever a new language is created. While Coul find that extremely interesting, pokélinguistics is not exactly his field. It's nice if he can incorporate it with biogeography but he could not find the link as of now.

There was nothing of note in the ruins that he could find useful for his research. He decided to go down on the deeper levels of the place and check the place it. He may find something useful down there. "Drogon, keep your head. We're going down."

Lrachelr5 · Jan 12, 2016

Riker sighs seeing the little pokemon break out of the pokeball. He debated on what he should do, he really didn't want to leave the little one on its own. "Okay Sammi, use water gun" he says knowing that it would be a very effective attack, he watched as the budew answers by using poison point, "alright that's how you're gonna go about it little one?" he says to himself. "Sammi water gun again" he says deciding that the best thing to do would be to slowly lower the health of Budew. He saw Sammi start to look unwell "oh so it has poison point" he says as he threw his partner a Pecha Berry. He kept going making the pokemon weaker and weaker until the Budew was finding it hard to move. Riker reaches into his bag and tossed a second pokeball waiting with bated breath to see what would happen.

[PKMN OPEN] Redux: The Sinnoh Stories [T]

Fake Friends Forever (´･ω･`)

Harley' Suitcase​

Don't let me disappear

Where was your antennas again?

Where was your antennas again?

Don't let me disappear

Show me that Fighting Spirit

Fake Friends Forever (´･ω･`)

Harley's Suitcase

Where was your antennas again?

Etherion

Guest

Nathan "Nate" Hamilton​​​

Prologue - Dreams

Show me that Fighting Spirit

[FONT=Franklin Gothic Medium][SIZE=4][COLOR=#00b05

Coul Remson

Badges: 0

Fake Friends Forever (´･ω･`)

Where was your antennas again?

[FONT=Franklin Gothic Medium][SIZE=4][COLOR=#00b05

Coul Remson

Badges: 0

Harley' Suitcase

Nathan "Nate" Hamilton