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[Pokémon] A Smell of Petroleum Pervades Throughout

Ragnia

Hello
97
Posts
13
Years
Try to slide the briefcase over to you without getting the attention of the possibly dead Heracross. Worse case scenario, toss the almost burnt out torch at it and get the heck out.
 

Cutlerine

Gone. May or may not return.
1,030
Posts
14
Years
> Well, so much for visiting Mr. PKMN.
Take his shoes off and see if it's still okay to wear, and if it's comfortable to wear than your shoe-handiwork.


Didn't you read something once about wearing a dead man's shoes? No? All right, then.

You pull off his shoes, and Jesus Christ his feet come with them

You recoil with a muffled shriek and drop the shoes immediately. There's no way you're going to even touch those now, still less put your feet in them.

On the plus side, you have now seen so many horrible things that you aren't especially bothered about the severed feet lying on the floor. Just as long as you don't have to touch them.

Or, y'know, go within three feet of them.

> See if there's anything of real interest in the mechanical parts than test the waters by getting just close enough that your out of the Heracross' reach and throw a rock at it, if it attacks toss Vesta at it and run for the exit
> Instead of possibly angeringg the beast, why dont we try and use a branch ir something to slide the breifcase over to you without getting in range of the crazy monster-beast.
> Try to slide the briefcase over to you without getting the attention of the possibly dead Heracross. Worse case scenario, toss the almost burnt out torch at it and get the heck out.


The pile of mechanical parts is full of interesting things, most of which you can't even name. Thankfully, the Narrator names each one for you, and you pick a few still-functioning gizmos up to take with you.

Othodox found one Machine for Predicting the Number of Pips in an Unopened Orange! Othodox put the Machine for Predicting the Number of Pips in an Unopened Orange in the WTF Pocket.

Othodox found one Portable Spratchery! Othodox put the Portable Spratchery in the WTF Pocket.

Othodox found one My First Tri-Beam Ray GunTM! Othodox put the My First Tri-Beam Ray GunTM in the Child's Toys Pocket.


Sweet, a ray gun! No, wait – damn it, it's just a plastic toy. It does make five different sounds and light up in six colours, though. You could have hours of fun with this thing.

The pip-predicting machine, though? You cannot envision any situation where you might possibly need to use it. You're still going to keep it, though. I mean, you're still hanging onto that Miracle Seed when there's clearly no Pokémon around that you can give it to, so anything as beautiful as that machine (and believe me, it's the most gorgeous piece of engineering you've ever seen) is definitely not getting thrown away.

You turn your attention to the Heracross and the briefcase beneath it. There doesn't seem to be any possible way of getting over to it without risking horrendous bloody death, so you decide that the voices are right, and that you ought to try and drag it over with a branch or something. A short trip outside furnishes you with the requisite materials, and you creep as close as you dare to the pinned beast, branch in hand.

You reach out. The tip of the branch wobbles, tracing erratic circles in the air; it keeps edging perilously near to the Heracross' legs, only to waver away again at the last moment. It's like it wants to brush the shiny carapace, to tickle the bug back into life; you find yourself cursing the branch, sweat trickling down your brow, ordering the blasted thing to stay still and go where you want it—

Tap.

The branch passes neatly through the handle of the briefcase, and a quick jiggle confirms it isn't falling out any time soon.

You breathe a quiet sigh of relief, and take a short break to wipe the sweat from your brow. Christ. You really hate being around monsters of this calibre. In fact, you couldn't be much more tense if there was an Eldritch Tyranitar in the room.

Oh God. You hope you didn't just give the Narrator an idea.

You take a deep breath, and take up the branch once more. Slowly, carefully, you begin to draw it back.

Kkkkkrrk.

The scraping of the case across the floorboards seems very loud.

Kkkkrrrkk.

The briefcase stops.

You frown. Has it got stuck on something? You squint at it, and surmise that it's stopped over one of the big splits the Heracross' feet have left in the floor. It must have caught on some jags of wood or something.

You debate giving it a tug. It might be noisy, but there's probably something you want in the briefcase...

Screw it. Your magpie-like tendencies win out over caution, and you tug sharply on the branch.

Crack!

There's a sound of snapping wood, and the briefcase shoots towards you like a skimmed stone. Your eyes dart to the Heracross, and—

The great fists curl abruptly.

—oh, crap.

They uncurl again slowly, and the Heracross' mighty horn twitches as its titan head rises from its silent contemplation of the floor; bloodless white eyes flick open, and one hand rises to the pin in its chest—

—and then suddenly it's across the room, and you never even have a chance to blink

—and then the two separated halves of the Heracross fly past on either side of you, trailing dark ichor and unidentifiable gunk, and you are left standing there with a look of vague stupefaction on your face and a spreading warmth in your underwear.

"It took you long enough," says a cracked voice – a familiar voice – from behind you. "We thought you'd arrive ages ago."

You turn, and there he is.

Your mysterious saviour.

It's Falkner, and he's riding a freaking dragon.
 
301
Posts
14
Years
  • Seen Feb 7, 2018
Say the following Statement outloud (If you still can after talking with the voices in your head for this long) "Falkner you're alive, But how? And why were you waiting for me?" while containing the need to jump up and dance with joy there's something alive besides you and the monsters
 

destinedjagold

You can contact me in PC's discord server...
8,593
Posts
16
Years
  • Age 33
  • Seen Dec 23, 2023
Falkner definitely knows what's going on. So ask him what's going on.
If he's friendly, ask for something to eat.
 

Cutlerine

Gone. May or may not return.
1,030
Posts
14
Years
> Falkner definitely knows what's going on. So ask him what's going on.
If he's friendly, ask for something to eat.
> Say the following Statement outloud (If you still can after talking with the voices in your head for this long) "Falkner you're alive, But how? And why were you waiting for me?" while containing the need to jump up and dance with joy there's something alive besides you and the monsters


You stare.

"Falkner...?"

"Yes," he replies impassively. "Me. And you're... well. I'm not sure what you're called this time. There have been a lot of you."

He looks a bit different now, you realise. It would seem that he's been living here for a while; his hair is longer and wilder than you remember, and he seems to be missing an eye. There is also a large and hideous scar running from his left temple down to his chin; it looks like someone stuck a rope under his skin.

"You're alive," you manage at last. "But... how? And why were you waiting for me?"

Now that you've moved somewhere halfway to acceptance of the situation, you want to jump up and down and hug him, but Falkner didn't do hugs even before the apocalypse, and this dragon-riding, axe-wielding new version of him probably doesn't either.

"I'm always here," he tells you. "Every time." He pauses, perhaps waiting for you to say something – but you don't, and he continues. "Come on," he said. "You can't stay here. Your Quilava is coming."

You start. The last you heard, it was a Cyndaquil.

"What? How do you know? And how the hell is it mine?"

"It's your starter," he replies. "That's how it works here. And I know it's coming because I saw it as I flew south to get you." He sticks his axe in his belt and pats the back of the hideous beast beneath him. "Get on."

Your starter? What does he mean by that? You chose Totodile as your starter, you remember it clearly. What on earth is going on here? Hopefully he'll explain later, but... well, for now you'd better do as he says. After all, he quite clearly holds all the cards here.

It's at this point that you realise that the Air Slash that cut the Heracross in two actually cut through the façade of the house as well, and that's why you can see Falkner now; the thing beneath him, which walks on its wings like a pterodactyl and trails vivid bloody plumes from its naked skull, must be exceptionally powerful. You can only imagine it must be an Eldritch Pidgeot; how Falkner tamed it is beyond you. Although the iron collar around its neck with inward-pointing spikes gives you something of a clue.

With some trepidation, you step through the ruined front wall of Mr. Pokémon's house and approach the beast; it tips its serrated beak at you, and screeches wildly – but Falkner yanks on a chain attached to the bladed collar on its neck, and it recoils sharply. Ichor oozes from fresh cuts on its throat, bringing with it a strong smell of petrol.

"Leave him," he growls. "He's coming with us."

The Pidgeot seems to acquiesce, though whether it's because it understands Falkner or because it doesn't want its throat cut is a matter of some conjecture.

"Is that thing... safe?" you ask hesitantly.

Falkner looks at you as if you've just announced you threw the pin instead of the grenade.

"What the hell do you think?" he asks. "He's a bloodthirsty monster the size of a Land Rover. Just get on his back."

You gulp. OK, then. Time to be brave.

You put one hand on the Pidgeot's pulsing flank, in between two thorny spines that look like the remnants of feathers, and cautiously pull yourself up.

Nothing happens. The Pidgeot does not throw you off, or lash you with its tail-blades, or turn around and peck you into oblivion.

You are sitting on the back of the most dangerous thing you have ever climbed aboard, and it isn't killing you.

OK, then.

Things are looking up.

"Hold on," says Falkner curtly. "We're going back to the base. To meet the others."

"Others?" you begin, but you never get any further. The Pidgeot kicks away from the ground with a violent jerk and then suddenly you are screaming upwards into the sky at unimaginable speed—

—then there is an abrupt twist that almost flings you from the monster's back, and you are cruising along in level flight on wings that seem part membranous and part feathered, and almost entirely tattered. In the few seconds since the flight began you seem to have risen to a staggering height; Johto is laid out below you like a child's playset. You can see a column of green fire burning its way towards Mr. Pokémon's house, and shiver with relief as you think of the kilometres of unnavigable space between your eldritch nemesis and you – but that swiftly vanishes as you take in the rest of what you can see.

The mountains to the east are normally dominated by the impossibly-large Pokémon League headquarters – but now the great building is gone, replaced by a titanic black castle, all jagged edges and pointed windows; it looks like it was built thousands of years ago by mad giants who respected neither aesthetics nor the laws of physics, and rambles upwards and outwards and onwards across the mountains in a blood-chilling tangle of knotted spines.

The west is no better. A perfect hemisphere of darkness has settled over Ecruteak City, as if someone poured the night sky into a bowl, sieved out the stars and set it carefully over the city. Faint, curling plumes of shadow flake from the hemisphere's surface, rising into the sky like smoke and staining the clouds where they touch them.

Furthermore, the glittering towers of Goldenrod City are undulating slowly in the wind, like vast plants tossed by a gentle breeze, or snakes stirring in their sleep. As you watch, a cloud of unidentifiable winged things bursts from the topmost floor of the Radio Tower and wheels through the sky, fighting over something that drops in pieces to the ground below. Given the distances involved, you think, those things and whatever it is they're fighting over must be absolutely enormous.

You turn to look south, half to keep your eyes out of the biting wind and half to avoid the horrors in front of you, and see that Azalea Town is gone. The forest has marched into town and swallowed, and though the occasional rooftop can be seen through the trees, most of it seems to have vanished. As you stare, you think you can see something with webbed paws and staring eyes screaming at the sky atop one of the trees – but then it slithers away, and you see no more.

"What the hell is going on?" you yell over the howl of the wind.

Falkner laughs.

"We'd all like to know that, wouldn't we?" he replies.

"You don't know?"

"We know some things," he tells you. "Like that." He points at where the League used to be. "There's no crossing into Kanto now. The things that fly around that castle are not Pokémon and never were. They came with whoever put that thing there, and if anything comes too close, Eldritch Pokémon or not, they kill and eat it."

You squint. You can't see anything flying around the castle, but that actually scares you more than if you could. You imagine talons shooting out of holes in the masonry, snatching you from the Pidgeot's back, and shiver from more than just the cold.

"Then there's Goldenrod, where there are... We're not sure." He pauses. "No one has gone beyond the city limits and returned." Without looking around, he points behind you. "Azalea. Things crawled out of the well and ate the bugs. You could hear Bugsy screaming for weeks before they got him."

The Pidgeot is starting to bank around now, to turn to the east, and you point over Falkner's shoulder towards Ecruteak and the dome of darkness.

"What about that?" you ask. "What's that?"

"That's Ecruteak," he replies, and is silent for a long, long time. "We don't go there any more," he says eventually.

He tugs expertly on the chains attached to the Pidgeot's collar and steers it further to the left; now, it's heading to the southwest, towards the deep forests around the Union Cave area.

"Where are we going?" you ask.

"To the last safe haven," he replies, as the Pidgeot begins to lose height, the trees rising closer and closer with each noisome wingbeat. "The only place in Johto without monsters."

A safe haven? That sounds good to you. You've had more than enough of the whole 'constant fear' thing that's been going on lately.

The remnants of Azalea Town vanish off to the left, and then suddenly the trees open up around a tiny clearing centred on a small wooden structure. The Pidgeot's wingspan is longer than the clearing is wide, and you wonder how it will land – but it simply folds its wings and takes the brutal impact on its hind legs, almost knocking you from its back, then drops back down onto its wing-claws. It shrieks once, and Falkner pats its head reassuringly.

"Good boy," he says. "Good boy."

You look around, and are surprised to find that you know this place. It's the shrine in Ilex Forest – but not as you've ever seen it before. A bright white light shines out through the wooden framework of the shrine from some unknown source, and as it touches you you feel a beautiful sense of rightness wash over you; it feels as if all the horrors you have encountered over the last day and a half are being burned somewhere in a back room where you neither have to see nor smell them. It feels like a breath of summer, like sunlight and good wine; it smells like freshly-mown grass, chocolate and amaranth. It even drowns out the petrol-and-piss stink of the Pidgeot.

You slither weakly from the monster's back, and crumple to the ground in exhausted ecstasy.

"It gets us all that way," says Falkner, dismounting with practised ease and leading the Pidgeot away into the shade between two trees. "Give it a minute, you'll be fine. I just need to get Jawson out of the light... Eldritch Pokémon can't stand this place."

"Flugh," you reply, closing your eyes and basking in the warmth of the shrine's enigmatic light. "Bloooo..."

OK. That's better. You sit up and rub a hand over your face. You feel so much better now.

Vesta is Touched by the Spirit!

Vesta is losing health!


Ah, crap. Looks like Vesta isn't, though. She's not as tough as the Pidgeot, and the light of the shrine appears to be bad for her. You get up slowly, walk over to where Falkner's left Jawson and take the jar containing Vesta out of your Bag.

"I need to store this somewhere," you say. "Can I leave it here?"

Falkner looks at it curiously.

"Huh," he says. "You're the first one to think of that." He nods approvingly. "Good. You might survive a day or two longer." He motions to the darkness outside the clearing, where Jawson lies curled on a nest made of whole trees. "Just leave it here. The shrine's influence doesn't extend very far."

You set Vesta down and poke a couple of twigs into the jar to keep her going, then follow Falkner back to the shrine. You see now that there's a large collection of stuff lying around here: clothes, food, bits of strange machinery, whole articles of furniture – all the kind of weird crap you've been picking up so far on your journey. Falkner must have done some serious looting too.

"So." Falkner turns his back to the shrine and looks at you frankly with his remaining eye. It has an unnerving tendency to wobble a bit, but you can put that down to shock and see past it. I mean, there's someone here to help you. You don't care what they look like, as long as they'd rather aid you than eat you. "So," he says. "It's probably easier if you ask the questions. What do you want to know?"
 

destinedjagold

You can contact me in PC's discord server...
8,593
Posts
16
Years
  • Age 33
  • Seen Dec 23, 2023
Question time!
1. Where are the other survivors?
2. What did Falkner mean by "I'm not sure what you're called this time. There have been a lot of you" ...?
3. Are there any other gym leaders alive?
4. Are the Elite Four alive?
5. Where's Red?
 
301
Posts
14
Years
  • Seen Feb 7, 2018
Add anything you don't want to keep, are not wearing and won't harm anyone to the pile of supplies put your most helpful foot forward, Ask if the Pokegear network is still up and if calling for help from Sinnoh Hoenn or Kanto would be possible finally Ask how he found this place and who else is part of the survivors.
 

Cutlerine

Gone. May or may not return.
1,030
Posts
14
Years
> Ask Falkner his opinion on your snazzy dress. Do a twirl for him.

"What do you think of the dress?" you ask, twirling.

Falkner considers. The fact that he's taking this seriously makes you wonder about how sane he is, but then again, you're not exactly certain about your own state of mind either.

"You fill it well," he says at length. "Though your flat-chestedness makes it a little loose in front. Aside from that, you have a good figure for it."

Well, mostly positive. At least he gave you some constructive criticism.

> Question time!
1. Where are the other survivors?
2. What did Falkner mean by "I'm not sure what you're called this time. There have been a lot of you" ...?
3. Are there any other gym leaders alive?
4. Are the Elite Four alive?
5. Where's Red?
> Add anything you don't want to keep, are not wearing and won't harm anyone to the pile of supplies put your most helpful foot forward, Ask if the Pokegear network is still up and if calling for help from Sinnoh Hoenn or Kanto would be possible finally Ask how he found this place and who else is part of the survivors.


"Where are the others?" you ask him. "Are they Gym Leaders, like you?"

Falkner nods.

"Yeah. Most people died pretty soon after everything started, but the strong survived. The Leaders. The Elite Four. A few other Trainers here and there." He looks around, vaguely confused. "They should be here... oh, yeah. They're probably sleeping again." Falkner laughs, and there's something that you really don't like about his laugh. "Hey, guys, come on out!"

You watch with increasing unease as he stalks over to one of the heaps of supplies – the one you thought was clothing – and hauls out something that looks awfully like a scarecrow: straw-stuffed shirt and trousers, painted-sack face, limply dangling hands.

"There we are," he says with satisfaction, ramming its stick deep into the earth. "Recognise her now?"

"Uh..." You're not sure what to say. Your instinct is telling you to run, run as far away from the madman as possible, but he's got an Eldritch Pidgeot and you'd rather stay on his good side. Consequently, you want to say yes – but you have no idea who the scarecrow's meant to be. "Uh, is that...?"

"Clair, yes," says Falkner, grinning. His eye is, for reasons known only to himself, pointing straight upwards. "Say hi, Clair."

He wiggles the scarecrow's arm; it flops about like a dead fish. You shudder and smile weakly.

"Hi."

"Yeah, and here's Pryce, and Jasmine, and Koga, and Gaven – he used to be an Ace Trainer on Route 26 – and Karen..." With each name, Falkner sets up another scarecrow, and you are forced to admit to yourself that there is no way this can be an act. He really has gone completely mad. Is there anyone else at all in his so-called 'group'? Can you trust a single thing he says? You're not sure. You only know that you want to pump him for information and get the hell out of here as soon as you possibly can. Eldritch Quilava is scary, but a mad Falkner with an axe and an Eldritch Pidgeot is even scarier. It's just... it's wrong, so horribly wrong, and it chills you to the bone.

You greet the scarecrows politely, and are fascinated (in a sick kind of way) to note that there's been some attention paid to details. The Pryce one has a walking stick nailed to its hand, for example, and a scarf around its neck. The Jasmine one has a bow on its chest. The Bruno one...

You stop yourself. This can't be healthy. Time to move on to another question and try to forget about the ring of fake survivors surrounding you.

"OK... Um, you mentioned something I was kind of confused about," you say. "You said there have been a lot of me or something?"

Falkner gives you a look. Well, half a look, technically, but it has the same effect.

"You didn't find out already?"

"Find out what?"

He shakes his head.

"Everyone else figured it out long before they made it anywhere near Violet. Tell me," he asks, "what's your mother's name?"

"What kind of a question is that?" you ask. "It's—"

You pause, mouth open.

"Well?" says Falkner, a sardonic grin on his lips. "We're waiting."

"I... I must have forgotten," you say, but the way your voice is shaking, you're really not convincing yourself. "I forgot a lot of stuff—"

"Forgot, or never knew?" asked Falkner. "You have nothing but the most superficial backstory, do you? Just enough to let you know what's going on in the world. Names of the Gym Leaders. Rough geography. The Teams."

"That's enough," you say sharply, but he doesn't stop.

"Let me tell you exactly what happened, probably... yesterday morning? Yeah, that'd be it. You came to your senses standing in the exact centre of your room, staring towards the south wall. All you knew for the moment was your name."

"You were watching me," you tell him. "You could've been spying on me easily enough—"

"Why would I bother?" asks Falkner, snorting. "I never even watch you unless you make it to Cherrygrove. Most of the time you don't even do that – the Cyndaquil gets you." He takes a step towards you, and you realise for the first time just how much taller he is than you. He's grown since you last met – but hasn't the apocalypse only been going a few days? From the changes in Falkner, it seems more like years. "See, when all this began a switch got flipped somewhere," he says. "A setting changed. It's no save and permadeath now. You try. You die. You have to start again. At least, that's how it is for you." He laughs. His breath smells of petrol, and you wonder what he's been eating. "Us NPCs aren't so lucky. If we die, that's it. Game over."

"I'm... I'm the player character," you whisper softly. "Jesus Christ, I'm the player character."

It would explain the voices. It would explain the way certain events don't seem to happen until you enter an area.

God. All this time and you thought you were just a regular NPC, like everyone else.

No, not all this time. Just a day. You are only a day old, you realise. You were named and spawned by the Players, just as someone else was before you until they died, and someone else before them, and someone else before them...

"There've been about six hundred of you," Falkner continues matter-of-factly. "Most of them were you, but others were this girl who looks similar but has worse hair. I think the Players are trying to fix what went wrong, but judging by the precedent they've set..." He shrugged. "They're not doing so hot."

The player character. Christ. As bombshells go, that's quite a big one.

Still.

Avatar of the freaking gods and all that.

Can't be all bad.

"OK," you say slowly, taking a deep breath. "OK. So what happens, then? What happens to... me?"

"Mostly, the Cyndaquil gets you. When whatever it was happened, every Pokémon changed at once – mutated into the monsters you've seen around you. It was like the whole world reset: everyone was allocated a starter again. And just like before, the starters are stronger than most other Pokémon – you must have noticed, the Pokémon you've met other than the Cyndaquil have gone down pretty easily. But the starters... They're a tougher breed. Smarter, too. And they don't stay dead unless you really cut them up." Falkner strokes his axe absently. "And they have a weird idea about following you, too: they hunt you down until either one of you dies or you smash them into submission."

Falkner points out to where you know Jawson slumbers in the dark.

"He was mine. A Pidgey. Before everything changed, it was one of my team. Afterwards, it melted its way out of its ball and tried to eat my face."

You nod wisely. You have had much experience of attempted face-eating.

"Had to use some pretty unorthodox training methods, but I got him in the end." Falkner's hand traces his scar mechanically, without him noticing. "You've never managed to get the Cyndaquil, though. I can understand. He's a right bastard. I could beat mine to the floor, but that doesn't cut it when your enemy's on fire."

"So, does New Bark Town, um, reset whenever I... spawn?"

Falkner nods.

"The Totodile, Chikorita and Cyndaquil disappear and respawn in the lab," he says. "I watched it a few times – when I first figured out what you were, and still had some hope you might be able to accomplish something."

Ouch. You have every intention of accomplishing lots, thank you very much, and if only you knew what exactly it was that you wanted to accomplish, you're pretty sure you could go ahead and accomplish it right now.

You decide to change the subject.

"Where's Red?"

Falkner shrugs.

"We'd all love to know that. God knows he'd be better at this than you. Unless he's already dead."

OK, you're beginning to resent this attitude.

"Could we call him?" you ask. "I tried to battle him once, on Mt. Silver. He gave me his number."

"Why would he even have a number?" asks Falkner, puzzled. "He's mute. It kind of renders telephone conversations pointless."

Damn. You'd forgotten that.

"OK, could I call for help from Kanto, Sinnoh, Hoenn – anywhere?"

"You think we didn't try that?" Falkner points to a Pokégear on one of the scrap piles. "The network's still on, yes – I'm sure you've noticed how well-preserved everything is – but this happened all over the world. Simultaneously." He shook his head. "Everyone's on their own now."

You sigh. Well, so much for that. You didn't really think that would work, anyway.

"OK." You look around. "Uh, what else... This is the Ilex Forest Shrine, right?"

Falkner nods.

"The forest's protector cleanses any taint," he said. "I saw the light from the air when I was fleeing Violet City and landed here." He looks at the shrine, a vague look of satisfaction on his face. "Celebi does all it can," he tells you. "But it isn't enough to protect anything but the smallest part of the woods."

"I see." You point to the piles of supplies. "Do you need any of my stuff? I have lots."

"If you're anything like the rest of you, your inventory is ninety per cent crap and ten per cent stuff that you can't give up because you'll die without it," Falkner informs you. "You keep your stuff. Just don't take any of mine."

He seems pretty philosophical about all this, now you come to consider it – though is that because he's mad? Actually, he seems quite tame for a madman. Although there is the possibility you haven't seen all of it yet. Perhaps he has recurrent episodes of tremendous uncontrollable violence.

Man, you have got to stop with all this wild conjecture. It keeps terrifying you, and you're almost certain it gives the Narrator ideas.
 
301
Posts
14
Years
  • Seen Feb 7, 2018
Wow Othodox the Pc Highest Teir you can get (Well besides us of course :P) Anyway ask Falkner if he has any idea what to do next?
What is the longest one of your previous incarnations lasted?
Could he teach you his Training Methods?
Ask he has an extra Pokegear you could use to stay in contact just in case.
 
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38
Posts
11
Years
Ask about the metal collar-thingy around pidgeots neck. It seems to be keeping him in line, so maybe a similar one could help you control Quilava. Or maybe you shouldn't listen to us at all. According to falkner, we seem to be doing pretty good at leading you to your death.
 
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Cutlerine

Gone. May or may not return.
1,030
Posts
14
Years
> Wow Othodox the Pc Highest Teir you can get (Well besides us of course ) Anyway ask Falkner if he has any idea what to do next?
What is the longest one of your previous incarnations lasted?
Could he teach you his Training Methods?
Ask he has an extra Pokegear you could use to stay in contact just in case.
> Ask about the metal collar-thingy around pidgeots neck. It seems to be keeping him in line, so maybe a similar one could help you control Quilava. Or maybe you shouldn't listen to us at all. According to falkner, we seem to be doing pretty good at leading you to your death.


"These starters," you say. "They can be controlled, right? I mean, you've got Jawson there. How did you manage to get him under control?"

Falkner smiles mirthlessly.

"I chopped his head off," he replies. "Over and over again. Eventually he got the picture. I made that collar out of some iron park railings. Took me a month, but now every time I pull on the chain it feels to him like his head's going to get cut off again, so he quiets down."

Ah. You're not really sure that that's going to be much help with the Quilava. You're not a head-chopping kind of guy. Nor are you a blacksmith. Nor are you the kind of guy who can get close enough to a living inferno with teeth and claws to put a bladed collar around its neck.

"Fair enough," you say. "Just out of interest... how long have any of us survived before?"

"Not much longer than this," he replies. "Usually they don't come back from the next part."

All at once, you feel unaccountably cold.

"The next part...?" you ask hesitantly.

"Yeah." Falkner flicks a strange, one-eyed look at the Clair scarecrow, and a little smile crosses his face; it's as though they're sharing a private joke. "You're the PC," he says. "You're the only one who has any chance of stopping this mess. Agreed?"

"Uh..." You're not really sure. Falkner certainly looks like he could do a good job of it. He's the one with the dragon and the axe. Hell, he's practically a Viking already. "I guess..."

"Then you need to know what happened."

"You mean you don't know?"

Falkner nodded.

"Yeah. I saw it happen – I saw all the Pokémon change, and the people start dying – but I don't know why. But there's someone who does."

"Who?" you ask, curiosity winning out over fear for once. "Who is it?"

Falkner is silent for a long time, staring into the forest to the north.

"You have to go to Ecruteak," he tells you at length. "You have to speak to Morty."

Ecruteak. The city of Ghosts. They were scary enough before the apocalypse – you dread to think what a Gengar might be like now.

"The Ghosts aren't like the other Eldritch Pokémon," Falkner continues in a low voice. "They're... weirder. Everything got a little smarter when it changed – and the Ghosts were smart already."

"What happened?" You don't want to know, not really, but you can't help but ask; Falkner's voice is almost hypnotic, and you can't not know what went on.

"I don't know. Not for sure. I only visited once, and I left fast before they got me. But I saw him... saw Morty..." Falkner's voice breaks, and you stand there uncomfortably, not knowing what to do; thankfully, he recovers soon enough, and turns back towards you. "I don't know," he says. "I don't know. They got him, and they use him..."

It seems clear that he can't say any more about that particular subject, and you decide it's time to change the topic of conversation.

"Why do I need to find him?" you ask.

"You've been having the dreams, right? The dreams of the sea, and the creatures in the deep."

You start. How could he know that?

Falkner nods at the look on your face.

"Yeah, we all have them. But I think Morty saw more than most. He's psychic, remember – all that 'I can see what others cannot' stuff is true. He saw right down to the sea bed. He saw... everything."

"How do you know all this?" you ask.

Falkner shrugs.

"It's mostly guesswork," he admits. "But I know it's right. I'm not... I'm not the same character I was." He scratches his head furiously with ragged nails. "There's – I was a threshold guardian," he says at last, gesticulating wildly. "Someone you had to beat in order to progress. That's not me any more. When the world was shaken up and the story was rewritten... I stopped. I'm not – that – any more. I'm a – a – guide character. A tutorial. Does that make any sense?"

To be frank, it doesn't. Falkner is clearly insane; his eye is bulging wildly from its socket and seems incapable of remaining fixed on any one point, and he's shouting at you like you're half a mile away. Nevertheless, he has an axe, so you nod politely and give him a weak little smile.

"Uh... yeah, I guess so."

"Good." Falkner stalks off, scratching his head violently, and you let out a shaky sigh of relief. Only as you do so do you realise you've been holding your breath. Christ. The man is terrifying.

And yes: he is a man. Not a boy, as he was before. Despite the way the rest of the world seems exactly the same as before, Falkner is quite clearly several years older than previously. How does that work? You're not sure. Perhaps you'll find out.

"So, whenever you're ready." He pops up again out of nowhere like a mad-eyed Jack-in-the-box. "I'll fly you to Ecruteak. But that's it, you hear? After that, you're on your own. I did my part. I gave you information."

"No chance that we could stay in touch via Pokégear, then?" you ask diffidently.

Falkner laughs. It is not pleasant.

"Hell no!" he snaps. "I'm under no illusions here. You enter that dome, you're as dead as the rest of you." His lip curls. "I'm not wasting sympathy on another dead PC. It's hard enough to keep myself alive."

He turns away again, and once more begins his furious, mechanical scratching.

"So. Whenever you're ready."

All right, Othodox.

Deep breath.

Get your stuff together, make sure you're armed.

Then go save the world.
 
38
Posts
11
Years
After Meeting morty, lets check out the towers, maybe some of the legends can help you in your quest.
 

Cutlerine

Gone. May or may not return.
1,030
Posts
14
Years
> I'm imagining spending time looting in Ecruteak would be... Unwise. Head straight for the gym upon arrival.
> After Meeting morty, lets check out the towers, maybe some of the legends can help you in your quest.


The ride north is swift and uneventful, and it isn't long before the black dome is close enough to fill your entire field of vision. Jawson touches down on the northern end of Route 37, just south of the place where the old gate once stood – where it may still stand, for all you know; the darkness is completely impenetrable.

"There it is," says Falkner, staring at the wall of blackness. "Ecruteak City."

You stare with him. It is not an encouraging sight.

"Clair went in, you know," he continues, and somehow you get the feeling he's not quite talking to you. "Soon after it all started. I can get him, she said. I can find Morty and bring him out of there. He can help." He shakes his head. "Christ, Clair... why did you do it? You must have known, really..."

"I – I thought Clair was back at the shrine?" you ask hesitantly.

"That's a puppet, you idiot!" roars Falkner, suddenly furious. "Don't you get it? Don't you see? I know – I know it's not real! I know I'm – that my mind is broken..." He's scratching his head again now, mechanical and fierce. "I know it's not real," he says quietly, half sobbing. "I know... but I can't believe – and I – they can't die—" He breaks off. "I've got to get back to the others," he says, getting back onto Jawson's back. "They've probably fallen asleep again, and I have to wake them up... have to make sure they're OK..."

He doesn't say goodbye. Considering his state of mind, you're willing to forgive him for that. You watch the vast bulk of his Pokémon recede into the distance, and as it dwindles you suddenly feel very certain that you're never going to see him again.

Poor guy. You hope he makes it. You hope he can hang on just a little while longer, until you can fix this.

Because you are going to fix this, you tell yourself. You're going to solve this mess once and for all, and put everything back the way it was. You're going to do it for mad Falkner, and haunted Morty, and Clair who went into the dark and never came back. You're going to fix reality, and Mr. Pokémon won't be flattened under his TV any more, and Elm will be back in his lab and everything will be OK.

"I promise," you say quietly, watching the dot in the blue that you know is Falkner. "It's going to be OK."

You take a deep breath and take out Vesta's jar. You don't have a Spooky Flaming Torch – you needed both hands to hold on during the flight, and you couldn't exactly put it in your Bag – but the light she gives off will be enough. You hope.

More to put off having to enter Ecruteak than anything else, you have a look at the Bad Egg.

The Egg Watch: It looks like this Egg will take a long time to hatch.

Fair enough; you didn't really expect much else.

OK.

Another deep breath.

You step into the dark.

---

For a moment, everything is unrelentingly black—

—and then you're through, and you're in Ecruteak. Dark mist curls down the streets, but it's light enough to see. The black dome seems to be more of a wall than a solid chunk of darkness. You don't put Vesta away, though. You have a feeling you might need her, though you're not sure what use she'll be against the creatures here.

Ecruteak itself, like the rest of Johto, seems largely untouched. The buildings stand exactly as they did before; the houses, the theatre, the Centre, the Mart – and the Gym, down the road to the west. That strange grey mist shivers and eddies down the streets like a living thing, dancing across windowpanes and coalescing into vague and horrible shapes on rooftops, but other than that, the city looks much as it did before. The ruins of the Burned Tower loom over the city to the north; the Bell Tower is invisible behind the black dome.

Despite how normal it all is, you feel very, very afraid. Something is here, you know, that should not be – even more than the Cyndaquil, or That Thing, or any of the other abominations you've encountered so far. It is something old and powerful and from unimaginably far away, and finding it here, in a city you once knew so well... it chills you to the bone. You almost turn back – but then you remember Falkner, and your determination returns. There's no option. You've failed him before, hundreds of times, but not this time. You're going to save him, and everyone else.

"Poor mad Falkner," says a mocking, gleeful voice on the wind. "All twisted and scarred, tilting at windmills and fleeing the monsters on broken wings."

You start.

You know that voice – or something like it.

It sounds an awful lot like Morty, only now it has a horrific, alien edge to it that no human could never imitate: it is the voice of something that learned to speak by listening to Morty, but was held back by a lack of conventional larynx.

It's the voice of the Ghost-types, you realise with a shiver.

"You'd like to save him, wouldn't you?" giggles the voice. "You'd like to make everything good again. To save the world."

You don't reply. You can't. You just can't talk back to this thing.

"Don't be shy," it whispers. "Come find us. We're waiting, Othodox. We saved a place for you, darling boy."

ssss, whines Vesta uneasily from her jar. darkcoldssmoke...misstsssflee...

Crap. Even Vesta's scared, and she doesn't have a brain to be scared with.

But there's no choice, and you begin to walk – slowly, ever so slowly – towards the Gym.

"That's right," says the voice. "Come, Othodox. Just a little further now..."

You pass a house; you remember there was a man there who gave you an Itemfinder – or a Dowsing Machine, you're not sure. What happened to him? Did he die, like the others? Or did the Ghosts find him, use him like they did Morty?

run, hisses Vesta, a note of genuine panic in her crackly voice. sss...sscared...badplace...

"Will you listen to a fire, Othodox?" asks the voice mockingly. "The very thing you've been running from all this time? We'd have thought you would have welcomed our dark, cold little town after all that heat and flame."

The Gym looms closer, and now you can see that its windows have gone jet black. There will be no seeing what's inside before the Ghosts want you to.

"Almost there!" sings the voice. "Step inside, Othodox. Just remember to watch your step!"

You remember the mass of teleport pads that take you back to the start if you make a wrong move in the Gym, and wonder with a certain detached horror what the Ghosts have made of them.

ssss, says Vesta insistently. noenter...badbadcold...

The automatic doors slide open, and you hesitate for a moment on seeing the absolute darkness within – but there's no other choice.

You hold Vesta up in front of you, and step once more into the dark.

And there he is.

It's Morty all right, standing just where he always does, at the other end of the long, dark room. He has his back to you right now, but as you enter, he turns and spreads his arms.

"Welcome!" he cries, in that terrible, unnatural voice. "Welcome to our Gym!"

You stare. His movements are strange – swift and jerky, like a low-grade animation. And his face – oh God, his face! Those eyes, that skin, that smile... You know exactly why Falkner left town now, and why he can't speak about it. You find it difficult to believe that this could ever have been a man.

Vesta lets out an incoherent, crackling shriek, and burns down low in her jar in fear. You only wish you could do the same.

Morty's grin broadens, and his jaw opens and shuts noiselessly, lips held still as if made of wax. A moment later, just enough to be noticeably out of sync with his movements, the voice rings out:

"I'm over here, Othodox. You remember the way across, don't you? We have the answers you want, if you'll only come and get them."

No turning back, you think. I am the player character.

You take a step closer, towards the part of the Gym where the warp panels begin. He's right, you do know the path – and with Vesta's faint light to guide you, you think you can manage it easily enough.

"That's right," says Morty, leaning towards you with something nameless crawling in the pits of his eyes. "Closer..."

First step. Your foot makes contact with solid stone. So far so good. On either side of you, you see the voids where the warp panels were – and where there is nothing now but roiling clouds of that awful grey mist, fitfully illuminated in Vesta's eerie green. A wrong step here, you realise, is going to cost you more than a few minutes' return time.

"Well done," coos Morty, head jerking about grotesquely on his shoulders. "Such a clever boy."

It's not Morty, you tell yourself. It's not. He doesn't talk like that. This is that Gengar of his, or the Haunter, or those Gastly... Or all of them together, piled up one atop the other to create some kind of mega-Ghost. Maybe that's possible; you don't know. After all, they're all made of gas, aren't they? Can they mix?

"Closer," he insists. "Closer, if you want your reward."

sss, babbles Vesta fearfully, beyond even her usual semi-coherent speech. sss...

More steps. The path goes just as you remember it, and now you're moving faster, gaining confidence. You keep your eyes on the ground, partly to make sure of your way and partly to prevent yourself seeing the thing you're approaching.

"Closer," repeats Morty hungrily. "Closer."

Wait...

Should you be obeying him?

You stop, and immediately he starts talking.

"Closer," he says. "Come over here, and we can talk. We know everything, Othodox. Morty saw it all, before we flowed into him and he became us. We know what lies on the sea floor, and why the smell of petroleum prevails throughout."

You risk a glance at him, and wish you hadn't. From here, you can see more of his face than you want, and the image lingers horribly before your eyes when you look away.

"Why closer?" you ask – the first thing you've said since setting foot here. "Why can't we talk here?"

"We have the knowledge, we make the terms," says Morty, part of the hideous sing-song tone fading from his voice. "Come here!"

"No," you say, surprising yourself with the strength of your voice. "No, if you want me, you'll have to come over here."

Morty screams. It is the single worst experience of your life – not because of the noise, although the unearthly shrieking is certainly bad; no, this is more because of the way it distorts his mouth into a perfect, gaping circle, blasting teeth from his jaw in a percussive wave of sound.

"Come here!" he growls, and any trace of Morty in the voice is gone now. This is simply the voice of the Ghosts, you know. "Or we will come to you."

Actually, you don't like the sound of that. In fact, you're no longer sure whether to keep going or to stay where you are.

You're going to have to decide soon, though.
 
301
Posts
14
Years
  • Seen Feb 7, 2018
Stay where you are I think I got an idea well two 1. we try to catch it than threaten to leave it in the purifying light of the shrine until it tells us or 2. We threaten to let Vesta feed to her hearts content, turn their dark sanctuary into a blazing inferno
 

Daydream

[b]Boo.[/b]
702
Posts
14
Years
I would suggest that since you probably can't escape, and are probably up against unknown amounts of powerful enemies, that continuing on is likely your only option. Worst comes to worst, throw Vesta at its face.
 
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