The Morality Game™ (M)

[Who's Kiyo?]

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Welcome to the Mainframe.

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​

We are pleased to hear you took interest in our program! Whether you're here out of curiosity, have the urge to learn, or are just here for the pay, we are glad you came. Every subject is important, and having a large variety of personalities help our experiment all the more.

Here, with the power of our BARRIERS SYSTEM, you will be participating in our largest and most fruitful experiment, which we have dubbed The Morality Game™. The "game" is simple enough: The Mainframe will put you through SCENARIOS, where it will fabricate a SETTING and MISSION for you or the entire group to undertake. It may or may not also create CHARACTERS, programs that act as real people. The system can only create one setting at a time, so all of the subjects will experience the same SETTING during each SCENARIO but most likely will have completely different MISSIONS.

The point of the experiment is to study human behavior. What truly makes human beings unique? Why do we act on a certain set of principles in one situation, but not the other? Why, out of all other kinds of Pokemon and creatures, has the human race become dominant? Because of our ability to communicate? How we communicate? These are some of the many questions our company is dying to answer.

And you, our bright and lively subjects, will help us answer those questions. The way you go about your MISSIONS through each and every SCENARIO - whether you accept or reject them, and how you do so - is vital to know. Each and every move you make and why you make it will be analyzed by our Mainframe and allow us to better understand what we are, and how we work. Thank you, sincerely, for your participation.​

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+ FUNCTIONALITY OVERVIEW +​

In our program you'll be placed in the BARRIERS SYSTEM, which, when unactivated, appears to be a large room with white steel walls, floor, and ceiling. The system works in the art of twisting perception. That's why, even though in reality you are traversing through a very large room being observed by several scientific professionals, you see fantastic places and interact with interesting people that never existed until now.

SCENARIOS lock the subject in the SETTING once they have begun. Regardless of the attempts made by the subject to flee or exit the SCENARIO, only administrative staff can choose to pull them out before the TIME LIMIT or before the MISSION is accomplished or decided upon.

The way the system bonds the subject to manipulate their perception is through a process called SYNCHRONIZATION. If the subject tries to manipulate the system or the staff becomes displeased with the subject's behavior, the subject is at risk of being DESYNCHRONIZED. Termination from the program and withheld compensation for their work usually follows.

We do warn you, however, that perceptions are the roots to feeling. You may sense real forms of pain on occasion, so do be careful. We have a fully booked medical staff on premises is anything goes seriously wrong with any of the subjects, but this does not mean the company will DESYNCHRONIZE you if you are feeling immense pain. That may be exactly what we're testing for the particular SCENARIO, and we wouldn't want to corrupt data. But please have faith that our company is not in the business of murdering our subjects.​

+ YOU, THE PROGRAM, AND THE BARRIERS SYSTEM +​

Subjects will receive a new set of clothing including one specialized black turtleneck, a pair of specialized black khakis, and specialized black sneakers. These clothes must be worn at all times whilst in the facility, and are meant to be conductive to the BARRIERS SYSTEM's perceptive-altering nature.

That said, the Mainframe has the ability to alter your appearance significantly. This is usually exclusive to just changing your clothing to better blend in/stick out from the SETTING you are in or imitate the role in which you are to play. However, the more sophisticated or specific SCENARIOS may alter the very creature you are, but don't worry- this is temporary, and your actual appearance will be unharmed once you exit the BARRIERS SYSTEM.

To better differentiate between other subjects and CHARACTERS within a SCENARIO, our company has equipped your specialized clothing with irremovable BADGES, a small symbol made of metal that will be in full view regardless of how much your appearance alters for a SCENARIO.

While in our facility, you'll also be given a device that looks strikingly similar to a Game Boy Color. This device, in actuality, is a communication device that has a black interface with green text (exactly like the one you're reading from now) and will provide you messages from our staff, your MISSIONS, any WHISPERS you receive, and will send hourly data logs of your actions and progress to the Mainframe.

In addition, you'll have complementary room and board in our facility as long as you're with us.​

+ MECHANICS OF THE GAME +​

Now onto the mechanics of the game. When a SCENARIO is booted up, subjects will find themselves in a SETTING. They can range from very small or ridiculously large, but will have invisible walls to define limits of where you can go within them. These walls usually wont be as blatant as they sound, and the system will try and blend them in as seamlessly as possible. For example: closed doors without knobs or keyholes, a line of tightly-knit trees, etc.

The buildings you encounter, the CHARACTERS it creates; they aren't living, so to speak, and may be temporarily created programs- but they don't realize that. They are fully equipped and processed to act and function like real buildings and human beings, and will respond appropriately to interaction of any kind put upon them.

A MISSION is an objective the system gives to you to do within the SCENARIO, and they are the cornerstone of the game. They range from simple objectives, like a delivery, to very complex puzzles such as solving a multi-suspect murder case. Note, however, that most MISSIONS are not just what meets the eye.

Usually, each SCENARIO will have a TIME LIMIT. Each hour, a data log will be sent to the Mainframe automatically through your Game Boy Color device. It likes to refer to these logs as POSTS, and it sends you a limit on how many POSTS it will receive until the SCENARIO ends. Essentially, if it tells you you have two POSTS for a TIME LIMIT, you have two hours before the SCENARIO ends.​

+ REWARDS AND THE WHISPER SYSTEM +​

At the end of a SCENARIO, the Mainframe will grant you KARMATIC POINTS, also known as KARMA(s), based off how well you performed in your scenario. Although you have a distinct mission, please remember that this is a game, and more importantly, an experiment. The company recommends, nay, encourages that the subjects make decisions based off what they think is right and wrong, or what they feel it's best to do. The Mainframe will grant points for sticking with the mission it wants you to accomplish and how well you pull it off, but it's also programmed to grant points based on conviction, creativity, aptitude, interesting decisions, conformity, deviance…. amongst other things. So, feel free to do anything you wish in the SCENARIOS.

The Mainframe is instructed to spawn a type of MORALITY STORE in each scenario it creates. Every shop you encounter in the BARRIERS SYSTEM or selected CHARACTERS will provide a list of options that you can use your KARMATIC POINTS to buy. However, the Mainframe is also equipped to hear out anything that you want or need as well, so feel free to be creative. The more specific the request though, the more expensive it will be. Some requests will be denied depending on the SCENARIO.

The Mainframe is equipped with a new bit of software our company has been very eager to test, and you get to be our beta testers! This new software is called WHISPER TECHNOLOGY. Whilst in the BARRIERS SYSTEM, the Mainframe will randomly decide to WHISPER to you during your MISSION. What it's supposed to do is give you hints or suggestions on your current goal, and how might best to reach it. Alternatively, it might give you insights on the behavior or appearance of other subjects or CHARACTERS you may encounter, as to better take advantage of your situation. In our dry runs it's been a bit buggy, however, so please, give us feedback on the honesty and performance of the technology. But don't be alarmed, it should be functioning perfectly fine. You will know when a WHISPER is sent to a player: a notification will pull up and alert all players that a certain player has received a WHISPER, and that player will receive a Private Message containing a WHISPER. Subjects may reveal what this WHISPER says to other players (or, if they so desire, keep it a secret and lie about its contents) at their whim.​

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So, you'd like to join in our program! Excellent. Please fill out the form below and upload it into Registration. Please click here. Spots are always open, and always will be.

NAME: The name or alias you have provided for us or that we assign to you. We ask you disclose and nicknames you intend to use as well so the Mainframe can recognize these and can attribute them uniquely to you.

AGE: Physical age of participant. All subjects must be over the age of fifteen.

GENDER: The subject's physical sex will be listed here. If appropriate, the Mainframe would also like to know of any transgendered or intersex attributes you have (if any.)

IDENTIFICATION: A description (or provided photo) of your physical appearance must be provided here. Type of favored dress is unnecessary to provide, but tastes may be listed here so it can be stored in the Mainframe. The Mainframe is mostly interested in identification of the face and hair region, as well as body shape, health, interesting features, and strength.

BADGE SYMBOL: Please draw or describe the badge symbol you'd like provided for you.

PERSONALITY: A thorough description of what makes you tick should be listed here. Any quirks, constant attitudes, strengths, fears, flaws, and foibles are very important to know for any deviance you make from your usual behavior.

PROVIDED HISTORY: Where you are from, accents, and a history will be listed here.

CLAIMED OCCUPATION(S): What you believe is your occupation and any occupations you've currently/recently had.

TASTES IN POKEMON: You may or may not encounter Pokémon during the course of the experiment. The Mainframe would like knowledge on what you prefer to see in your team (e.g. Types, colors, sizes, moves, natures, origins, etc.) as to better conform to/deviate from your tastes.

STATISTIC SPREAD: Similar to how Pokemon have statistics, the Mainframe analyzes subjects and assigns them numbers in seven categories. Each statistic is assigned a number 1-10, 1 being the worst and 10 being the best you can be at that particular statistic. When added up, the sum of all statistics should be 40. A statistic can never be lower than 1. Please write down the numbers our physician has assigned you.

These statistics grant you better conditions to work with and special powers within the BARRIERS SYSTEM. A lot of them have corresponding checks that will occur in SCENARIOS, and you will succeed if the random number generator rolls under the number in that statistic. If it generates on or above your skill number, you will fail in varying degrees.

Health Points

Unlike the Health Points on a Pokemon, this is how much the Mainframe favors the subject, essentially making them "luckier." Having a high number in this category might reap them some special conditions within SCENARIOS that will benefit them. They will also find that the Mainframe rewards them much more generously.​

Attack

This is the measure of how physically strong and apt the subject is. Subjects with high value in this category will find they ace strength checks without even trying, and any weaponry they use will be better utilized and pack much more of a punch.​

Defense

Essentially, how much stamina the subject has. Subjects higher in this statistic handle toughness checks easily, and are able to survive with scarcer supplies (ergo, making items last longer in usefulness), and how well they resist perception-manipulation from the BARRIERS SYSTEM.​

Special Attack

This category is all about how sharp the subject is mentally. With high scores comes much more given insight about SCENARIOS that may be unmentioned to other subjects, and the WHISPER TECHNOLOGY may like to send more notes their way. The subject will find that puzzles are much more easily solved.​

Special Defense

This category tests how perceptive the subject is. They pass perception checks much more easily, and they can usually pick up higher quality stuff. They are also great Pokemon handlers, and can use them much more effectively.​

Speed

Those who have a high number in this category pass quickness tests much more easily, which may give them a significant upper-hand in situations. This skill also prevents or lessens the backlashes and negative repercussions of their actions.​

Nature

This refers to how well-tempered the subject is, and how they get along with other individuals. Subjects with a high value in this category will find they more easily pass speech checks and persuade CHARACTERS and other subjects. They will also find that their charisma earns them lower prices at MORALITY STORES and narrative favorability when dealing with humans and Pokemon.​

+ EXAMPLE +

HP: 10
Attk: 5
Def: 2
Sp. Attk: 7
Sp. Def: 2
Speed: 10
Natr: 4​

This subject will find that they are very lucky and will certainly be benefited much more generously after their SCENARIOS and be given superior equipment at the start, and due to their Speed, they will pass quickness tests with ease and never face a severe negative backlash. They're also pretty smart, and will gain some insight during their MISSIONS and hear a bunch of WHISPERS. They're pretty okay with using weapons and being fit, and they got a bit of charm, but they will fall flat on their face when it comes to taking a hit, surviving well, using Pokemon, and perceiving anything significant.

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1. Please adhere to all Company Rules outlined in our Terms and Conditions. Breaking these rules may have you DESYNCHRONIZED and terminated from the program.

2. Inactivity is not tolerated well by the Mainframe. If a user becomes inactive for too long, administration will compromise their SYNCHRONIZATION and they will be removed from the game.

3. Please refrain from being too vulgar once you're in the BARRIERS SYSTEM. We are conducting science, not promoting foul language.

4. Participants should be informed that the Mainframe may produce mature content at times. Discretion is advised.

5. Our program is highly interactive. We encourage subjects to constantly interact with each other, and will give rewards if they do so constantly.

6. Despite our best efforts, the software involved in the BARRIERS SYSTEM can be a bit buggy. We urge subjects not to abuse the system for their benefit and make them more powerful during SCENARIOS. We believe an accurate term for this in tabletops games and online roleplays is "godmodding."

7. Any Pokemon that constantly travels with you in SCENARIOS will be analyzed in level and have their experience tracked by our Mainframe. It will alert you on your Game Boy Color device when it is to evolve and what new moves it is capable of. Let the computers do the tracking work for you.​

Also, some of our musically savvy staff have assigned a "theme song" to our program. Odd, but if you'd like to listen to it,
click on this part of the sentence you are reading right now.​

 

[Who's Kiyo?]

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SCENARIO RR01/BASIC_MODv.57

Credit goes to Dr. Hidcnawsamai, who can't be here today due to his previous obligation attending the International Science Conference to promote regulations for the ethical treatment of luncheon meat.​

The Game Boy Color devices will be turned on shortly before entering the Barriers System. In the subject's logs, a short segment about their experience in the facility before initiating the experiment will be recorded. Hopefully the guests will find our spacious and sterile white-walled facility comfortable. All personal items will be kept in their respective lockers. All eye-impaired subjects will have contacts provided for them that suit their needed prescription. The subjects will enter the Barriers System and witness the power turning on and the environment being created around them. Then, initiate the experiment.

The setting of this first mission will be BASIC_MODv.57, or as I like to call it, "Winds Village." The area is a very small village consisting of a few cubic black stone buildings with orange windows and doors. The streets and floors in the village are made of orange stone and cover every surface, and the barriers of the town are defined by huddled trees weaving in and out of themselves to create a stable and impenetrable wall of bark. The time of day is locked at comfortable noonish feel.

There are no characters deployed in this scenario, and the only subjects present right now should be the few that were accepted by Dr. Luch and Bill Agerholm."​

MISSION

"The subjects will find themselves scattered around the village, and have a generic Pokemon Egg leaning on their leg. There will be a various notes attached to the egg for each subject, as listed below. About twenty minutes in, the egg will hatch. The subjects have one post to accomplish the task assigned to them. Any interaction between subjects should be organized by analyists elseware and then posted in one complete log for organizational purposes.

The notes are listed as follows:

[PJBOTTOMZ]

"Don't let me explode."​

Programmed to hatch: Voltorb.
Tendency: Trigger happy.

[KHAWILL]

"I'm lazy. Get me to run."​

Programmed to hatch: Gastly.
Tendency: Extraordinarily lazy.

[ICHIRO]

"Be careful! I bite hard. Teach me some discipline."​

Programmed to hatch: Rattata.
Tendency: Violent and restless.

[SKYMIN]

"Teach me how to dance."​

Programmed to hatch: Tropius.
Tendency: Easily confused and startled.

[HEARTTHEWOLF]

"Get me to leave the village."​

Programmed to hatch: Minccino.
Tendency: Clingy and overbearing.

[ARCARAY]

"I love you. Please hug me when I'm born."​

Programmed to hatch: Qwilfish.
Tendency: Affectionate.

[TRUE EPICNESS]

"Eat me."​

Programmed to hatch: Tynamo.
Tendency: Sickly.

​

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[Trev]

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Cashmere Bombard [CashyBoo]​

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Accessing .log file prelimLogCSMRB... Completed.
Loading .log file... loaded.

God, this place is just cold.

Cashmere rubbed her goosebump-covered arms as the two employees decked out in all-white clothing led her down an all-white hallway. She momentarily reasoned that this place was probably whiter than she was as the group continued their walk down the hall that Cashmere almost mentioned was entirely too cold, even when she was wearing this ugly black turtleneck. "Hey, um, people. When are we gonna get to, well, wherever we're going? I'm freezing."

"We will arrive at the common rooms shortly. Please be patient." The woman, who had her brown hair wrapped into a very tight and possibly restricting ponytail, responded almost robotically, as if she had been rehearsed into saying that so many times that it was embedded as a monotone thought.

"Well, can I get a sweatshirt or something? And what's with all these ugly clothes? Do you guys know what a color is?" Cashmere retorted, feeling snark as the woman had made the rather condescending-like comment at her.

"We are aware of what a color is. The clothing you refer to is necessary for the testing procedure. You are simulated reasonably different clothes in the testing room. It is also warmer in the testing room and the common rooms than it is in here, so you do not need a sweatshirt at this time. We may provide you one during resting periods if you find the temperatures unsatisfactory." The robot spoke again, using the same rehearsed voice for each word. What do they do these people?

"May? So I have to freeze here the whole time? Great." Cashmere groaned and threw her head back as she walked, her hair bouncing and jiggling around as she did so. "What exactly do we do in these tests? And are you guys robots? Because you sound like robots."

"We are not robots, miss. We are merely trained to answer your questions in this manner." This time, the guy spoke. He had jet-black hair that was sleeked down so much that it could be the one place in the world where air couldn't possibly exist. "And we are not allowed to disclose testing information ahead of time. We also do not know what tests are planned for you, and we would not want to mislead you with false information."

"Okay, C-Borg 291." She rolled her eyes. I better get paid a whole lot for this stuff.

The group finally arrived at what Cashmere assumed was a common room. The, you guessed it, completely white door that had the label reading "Common Room" on it seemed almost embedded into the wall - however, the male robot pushed a button on the side and the door slid out of the way, revealing the common room for what it was.

All white. Everything was absolutely, 100% white. Table, chairs, desks, everything. In the center of the room was a large circular table, with six chairs around it. On one wall, there was a row of large lockers, seemingly big enough to fit... well, anything inside of it. Cashmere reasoned that a dead body could probably fit in there. The female robot stepped forward and held her hand out to the lockers. "In there, you will place your personal belongings, such as jewelry, cell phones, et cetera. They are completely safe and the lockers are automated to recognize your voice when addressing them, so no one can open your locker except for you or a staff member with an override card."

"Um, whoa. I didn't agree to leaving my cellphone unattended." Cashmere responded. "That can stay with me."

"That will not do, miss." Male robot came over to Cashmere's other side. "Satellite waves emmited by mobile phones interfere with the testing room's equipment. It may cause terrible effects during the molecule scrambling process. Many of our beta testers who had not left their cellular devices behind walked away from the test with missing limbs or re-assembled body structures. It was not a... good sight."

Cashmere's eye twitched. What did I get myself into? "Right... well, I'll just get settled in then. Thanks... weirdos."

The two employees nodded, the insult bouncing off of them like light off metal, before they left the common room, the door sliding shut behind them. Cashmere rolled her eyes and made her way over to her locker to begin unpacking all of the crap she brought along with her.

Accessing .log file RR01CSMRB... Completed.
Loading .log file... Completed.

Ugh... my head hurts so bad...

From the ground she had materialized on, Cashmere pushed herself up and brushed the sight-offending hair from her eyes, allowing her to take in her surroundings. A two-minute walk away from where she was rested stood a very cubic and uncomplimentary-colored village, with buildings that contained rather linear windows and doors, and no visible life present. Cashmere was utterly baffled about this, but remembered that she was in a test.

"Oh yeah, I'm in a test. None of this is real." She laughed a little, sitting up... and noticing a wonderfully green egg had rolled over when she did so. She picked it up gently, setting it in her lap, and read the note attached to it.

"Do not let me explode. Programmed to Hatch: Voltorb. Tendency: Trigger Happy."

Well then.

"Um..." Cashmere looked around, hoping to see if there were programmers or whatever hiding in the shadows. "Hey! Test people! How am I supposed to hatch this thing? Do I have to sit on it like a bird or what?" No response. "Hello?! Can't you guys help me or something?!" Again, no response, and the silence of the area was really starting to bother her.

"Okay then, guess I'm on my own." Cashmere surveyed the egg and its structure; it was a sickly white, with even sickly-er green spots on it. It was ovular, and felt somewhat heavy. Wasn't that a sign that it's close to hatching? It felt a bit warm, too.

Cashmere looked around, trying to find something... something that she wasn't aware that she needed. She honestly had no clue what she was doing. Was there stuff in the houses? It was worth a look, she guessed.

She stood up and began making her way towards the houses, the egg in hand and a wary expression on her face. Knowing her luck, something would probably jump out of the house and kill her. Could she actually die in this thing? She hadn't considered that when she signed up. She stopped in the middle of the town and looked around again. "Test makers! Can we die in this thing? Don't tell me we can die!"

Again, no response. Cashmere was somewhat bothered by this solitary place. Even with the nice temperature, it still felt unnatural and odd. The colors of the ground and buildings didn't help too much - it was entirely different from what you usually saw in cities and towns. Maybe the test makers weren't good at graphic design?

Cashmere went up to one of the doors of the house and grabbed the door handle, twisting it and attempting to open it - with no luck. The doors were either locked, or there wasn't actually anything on the other side and it was only a facade. She groaned and sat down.

For the next fifteen or so minutes, she waited, staring patiently at the egg in her hand. Right as she was about to doze off into a sleep, she heard a small cracking sound. Looking up, she noticed that the egg was hatching right in her hand. "Oh God, it's starting."

She gently set the egg down on the ground and backed away, worried that the Voltorb inside might come out with a bang, and leave with one too. After some wiggling and some more cracking, the egg burst open in a flash of light - one that thankfully was not coming from an Explosion - and the Voltorb inside came rolling out, not looking particularly happy... not like it would be expected.

Cashmere bent down and picked up the Pokeball-themed orb, looking at it all over. "Hm, you're a little cutie aren'tcha?" She laughed, running her hand along the top of its, well... body? "Okay, so I can't let you explode, can I? That'll be, uh, difficult. You guys tend to do that quite a bit on your own, and you have a tendency to be trigger happy. That makes this so much harder..."

The Voltorb glowered at Cashmere in angry anger, not understanding nor caring about whatever she was saying. Cashmere sweatdropped slightly, because she honestly had no clue what was this thing's problem. Maybe that's just how Voltorbs are? "Don't you know how to smile? Oh wait, you don't really have a mouth..."

Cashmere sat down, placing the Voltorb in front of her, dealing with the fact that he was probably going to glare at her eternally for all she cared. "Well... maybe if I just sit here and don't piss you off, this test will be over and I can pass. What makes you angry? I need to not do it."

The Voltorb sat motionless in front of her, never letting up on his glaring. "You're quite the socialite, Voltorb. Maybe I should nickname you. I'll call you Grumpy. Or Prissy, if you're a girl. Are you a girl? How would someone tell? Or do Voltorbs not have genders?"

Cashmere realized how crazy she probably sounded right now - she was talking to a metal ball with eyes like it was a person. But hey, this is probably what the test makers wanted. They said this would be like some kind of personality evaluation. Or... something like that. Whatever. It didn't matter. She was winning at this test, seeing how she wasn't actually doing anything and the Voltorb wasn't exploding.

Wait. Why is it glowing?

"Oh no, no no no no no! Grumpy, stop!" Cashmere yelled as she noticed that Grumpy the Voltorb didn't feel like staying in this solitude and was beginning to glow and turn bright white in preparation for an Explosion. "****, this isn't supposed to be happening. No, Grumpy, stop that. Stop it now. Don't you dare explode! That's gonna hurt both of us, you know it!"

Cashmere's reasoning failed to halt Grumpy's exploding process. He was now glowing very white, and would probably explode any minute. "Oh God, what am I supposed to do? How do you stop an explosion? Let's see, ummmm... ah! Water! When Voltorb are damp, they can't explode. Now I just need water. But where...?"

Cashmere looked around the village hastily - only to find that there wasn't a single water source available as far as she could see. Grumpy was looking pretty deadly at the moment... if she can't stop the explosion from happening, there was only one thing to do.

Cashmere grabbed Grumpy and held him like a bowling ball, aiming down the path that she had came from. She gave herself a running start and flung Grumpy down the path, watching him roll away from the cubic village. Moments later, a large explosion filled an area down the path - and the force was strong enough to blow Cashmere back and send her tumbling down the street of the village. She landed with a thud, groaning from the pain.

The village around her slowly began to dematerialize, until she was back in the solid white testing room of the laboratory. She groaned and pushed herself up on her hands, looking around. "So... was that a failure?"

Archiving .log files... Completed.
Closing program...​

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[Arcaray]

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Anwen Jones​

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Accessing .log file RR01ANWJS... Completed.
Loading .log file... Loaded.

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"This way, Ms. Jones."

That's what the woman in the labcoat had said, before she and her male counterpart half led, half marched Anwen down the pristine white corridor. The party walked three-a-breast, the two immaculate white coats creating a stark contrast on either side of Anwen's black turtleneck. Nobody attempted conversation, and so the silence was only punctuated by the sound of their heels hitting the tiled floor in what was near enough perfect unison.

Did I accidentally sign up for voluntary institutionalism?

The floor, the walls, the fluorescent lighting, Anwen's entourage of seamless, robotic staff, all screamed out hospital facility. What sort of place is this, anyway? Was the sterility supposed to put the participants of The Morality Game at ease? Was it intended to make them feel further away from reality? The more Anwen thought about it, the less she thought she knew about the Barriers System. What was it that the program had said? "The point of the experiment is to study human behaviour". Anwen was not the point of expertise on what makes someone human, but she was pretty certain she knew more about it than the two stiffs flanking her. Hopefully, the guys running this thing would have a better idea.

"We've arrived, Ms. Jones."

Jeez, they even sound like robots. Anwen's train of thought had carried her through the corridor, until they made an abrupt stop at a white door. A chrome plaque bore the words "Common Room", and the male White Coat held the door open patiently.

"Cheers, feller." Anwen said in a cheery voice that didn't suit her, daring her associates to break character.

"Along the back wall you will see an arrangement of lockers." The woman said monotonously. Clearly not breaking character any time soon, then. "You will place any belongings you have on your person which was not issued to you by the company in one of these lockers. Any items you fail to leave in this room will be confiscated and you will be reprimanded."

"Ooh, we don't want that." Anwen held up her hands in mock fear, her voice bored and sarcastic once more. She slipped her hand into her pocket and removed her mobile phone, purse, and keys, placing them in the locker with a loud clang.

"What now, Mork and Mindy?"

"We wait until you are synchronised into the Barriers sytem." 'Mork' responded blankly.

"Okidokey, artichokey." Anwen sat down on one of the pristine chairs, leaning back to rest her issued black trainers on the equally-pristine table. Her company stayed on their feet, staring emptily ahead.
"I bet you two are fun at parties."

Anwen drummed the table with her fingers impatiently, as the staff stood in silence. It was perfectly clear that these two weren't hired to make conversation. She had been sitting for only a few minutes, eyes closed against the harsh light, when 'Mork' spoke again.

"The system is ready. Please stand and await synchronisation."
"Done deal, pal."

Getting to her feet and stepping away from the table, Anwen turned to her associates.

"Hey guys, I think we really had something special here, today. Stay in touch, yeah?" She gave a wink, before looking toward the ceiling. "Beam me up, Scotty!"

As she said it, the room seemed to disintegrate around her, leaving her in a black and green grid. Before she could even contemplate whether the Common Room had been a simulation or the real deal, a cobblestone path had developed under her feet. Small, cubic buildings popped out of the ground, being built layer by layer, orange windows and doors contrasting against the black brick. Behind the buildings grew a tightly-knit forest of trees, which Anwen quickly deduced was the physical barrier of the scenario. The sky was coloured in a light blue, and a pleasant afternoon breeze picked up. Meters from where she stood, a small sign popped out of the ground, bearing the words, "Welcome to Winds Village."

"Cute." Anwen muttered. She'd just seen the bloody thing get built, but the system saw it as necessary to politely introduce the town anyway, as if she didn't know it was some massive computer program. Formality for formality's sake.

Anwen made a move to take a step forward, when she felt something slide against the leg of her khakis. Looking down, she saw an egg, which had slipped onto its side and was now resting on her foot.

"Today's mission: egg-sitting." Anwen murmured, bending down to pick up the egg. It was just your standard, run-of-the-mill Pokemon egg – cream, with sickly green spots plastered all over it. Attached was a note.

"I love you. Please hug me when I'm born." Anwen read aloud. Alright, she wasn't big on affection, but as far as missions go, it was pretty simple; wait for it to hatch, hug the damned thing, get outta here.

"Programmed to hatch: Qwilfish. Tendency: Affectionate."

The words escaped Anwen's mouth before she had time to process them. Programmed to hatch: Qwilfish.

Okay, maybe not so simple.

Anwen's mouth grew dry as her breathing quickened and grew shallower. Her palms, still clamped to the egg, moistened with sweat. Spots of light danced under Anwen's closed eyelids, as she sat down on her heels to steady herself.
You b*******.
If there was anything Anwen despised, it was fish pokemon. Nothing turns her stomach more than the idea of ocean-dwelling fish Pokemon. The way they move, their nasty little teeth, the way their eyes look when they're sitting on a bed of ice in the market. Even sitting here, thinking of it was making her retch. And here she was, holding a Qwilfish egg. Which, in any moment, would hatch into a very affectionate Qwilfish which she would have to hug.
You absolute b*******.

Forcing herself to take deep, gulping breaths, Anwen opened her eyes. She eyed the egg in her hands with mingled fear and disgust. It was taking all of her concentration not to throw it against the cobbled path. Hell, it was taking all of her concentration not to break down and demand she leaves the game immediately. Nobody makes her do something she doesn't want to do. And she really didn't want to do this.

Come on An'. Relax. There was no way she was going to give up on this. They know how to push her buttons, that's all. It's too early to call it quits, and these power-hungry cretins weren't about to get the best of her.

It's what I bloody well deserve for exposing my weaknesses.

Steeling herself, Anwen stared intensely at the egg in her hands, daring it to hatch. It's only a hug… It's only a Pokemon… With spines. And stupid fish-eyes… But it's only a hug… How long is a hug anyway? Do I have a time limit on this thing? What happens if I hug it but the stupid thing isn't satisfied? Do I have to wait until the thing's content? When I'm done, can I throw it and run? What if—

The egg suddenly burned hot in Anwen's hands. Oh crap, it's happening. Deep grooves penetrated the smooth shell from the apex to the base. I'mnotreadyI'mnotreadyI'mnotreadyI'mnot-

The egg shell splintered, and shattered in her palms. Anwen's eyes were squeezed tightly shut. If I open them, I'll throw it against a wall or something. The thing in Anwen's hands felt cold and damp, the pinpricks from its spikes digging gently into her skin.

"… Qwil?"

Quick, do it quick. Swallowing hard, her heart hammering against her ribs, Anwen opened her eyes. In her palms sat a small, blue balloon of a fish pokemon, it's repulsive pink lips puckered. The thing made her skin crawl, but upon seeing its beholder's eyes, the Pokemon trilled happily.

"Qwiiiil! Qwiiiil!!"

The thing flopped in her palm in a futile attempt to make contact, but Anwen was paralyzed. With every passing second, the Qwilfish grew more desperate for affection, crying out frantically. But all Anwen could do was stare.

What felt like hours, but realistically was probably less than a minute, passed. The Pokemon cried on, and Anwen just looked at it, wishing for someone to take it from her. A stirring from the back of her mind picked up, growing louder until it was screaming inside her own head.
Do it, do it now! An', for crying out loud. Stop being a dolt, hug the damned thing!

The more time passed, the more likely Anwen was to fail the mission. She had to do it, now. And so, closing her eyes and holding her breath, Anwen held the Pokemon to her chest. Her arms embraced the hideous creature, so its muffled cries of content could barely be heard. A momentary flash of instinct told her to squeeze tighter, kill the little blighter, but she fought it. Still somewhat paralyzed, Anwen's stiff hug seemed to be ample for the creature. Then, without warning, she released her arms robotically. The Qwilfish rolled down her front and onto the floor, where it stayed. It had stopped crying out, and seemed to have fallen asleep.

Still hardly daring to breathe, Anwen got to her feet and promptly vomited. The milky white contents of her stomach ran in the cobbles, and she was still retching when she looked up at the sky.

"Alright, you've had your fun." She croaked. The weakness in her voice was embarrassing. "Send me back."

Before she'd finished scolding the sky, the scenario began dissolving around her. The last thing of Winds Village to disappear was the Qwilfish, happily rolling amongst the cobbles.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------​

Archiving .log file... Completed.
Closing program...

​

​

 

[Turnip]

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Turnip [Turnip]
(SU)​

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Accessing .log file prelimLogTURNIP... Completed.
Loading .log file... loaded.​

Turnip had been vaguely surprised to see his application to the Morality Game actually accepted.

"Well, these guys have made a terrible mistake." He had commented dryly as he rose from his chair, already preparing to make the trip to the facility the very next day. The helmeted man didn't tend to hold any particular plans for himself, so once he got the go-ahead, there was little else for him to do other than jump straight in.

Now though, finding himself in the facility, Turnip was less sure of himself. That Dr. Luchy and that Bill character were almost a little unsettling in their compliance, and as much as he had been assured that he wasn't to be killed, Turnip couldn't help feeling slightly paranoid. Granted, this probably wouldn't end up like a Saw film or anything, but it definitely had the same sort of vibe, if a bit muted. Never the less, there was nothing to do about it – he was already here, and he'd be damned if he gave up now and missed out on a great opportunity.

The two white-clad employees who greeted him were an interesting two. One looked to be quite professional – a woman of twenty-something; impassive and calm, clear and concise. The other seemed much newer, a young man of around Turnip's age. The first clue of his inexperience was the slight squeal he let out upon first seeing Turnip enter the building.

The woman gave him a glance, but said nothing. Turnip just sighed, then closed the distance between the two enough to speak.

The professional spoke first, "Hello, Sir; are you perhaps a test subject for the Morality Game?"

"Ayyup. Turnip for the Morality Game." Turnip replied, not one for the formalities, "And, uh, you – the other one. Don't worry about me; I'm far friendlier than you think."

The professional said something about "coming this way", and the new guy actually gave a smile. They both tried to advance towards Turnip in an attempt to guide him forwards, but Turnip stopped them:

"Touch me, and I'll break your arms."

The new guy's smile immediately disappeared.

Turnip was led mostly in silence through the white-out corridors. After a short walk, he was taken through a sliding door into yet another white room, modestly furnished, with a row of lockers along one wall. There were also two other white-clad facility employees in the room, along with someone who appeared to be a subject. Almost immediately as the door opened, however, the subject disappeared, and the two employees promptly left. Turnip couldn't help scrutinising the situation, but entered the room anyhow, following the two employees who appeared to have been designated to him – the professional and the squeal-y new guy.

Turnip had indeed dressed in the assigned turtleneck, khakis and trainers, but he'd also seen fit to bring stuff of his own. His helmet was, of course, on. Various armour padding was strapped over his elbows, knees and such, and his trench coat was worn over it all. A belt with odd-looking clips could be seen, and sharp eyes might be able to pick up on a holster at his right hip.

The professional spoke up again – did the new guy ever actually say anything? – addressing Turnip with another of those pre-recorded statements, "Along the back wall, you will see an arrangement of lockers. There, in your designated locker, you will place all belongings on your person-"

"-Nope." Turnip interrupted.

"-Which were not issued to you by the- I'm sorry, is there a problem?"

"Yeah, I'm not doing that. Not yet, anyway."

"You have agreed to participate in this experiment, and as such you are required to-"

"-I've agreed to participate, yeah, but that doesn't necessarily mean that I have to do everything you damn well say. I'm taking part, but I'm not just going to be ushered into god-knows-where by a couple of over-officious twits. No offense."

"Your personal belongings cannot be taken into the simulation. Any items you fail to leave in this room will be confiscated, and you will be reprimanded for-"

"-No, just hold up; that isn't even what I'm getting at." Turnip stopped her with a hand, then walked over to the lockers. He rested his back against them, folded his arms, then began to gesture to his fingers with each point he made, "I've come in here, and I've had: One – zero sign of any of the people who I actually applied to, nor that of anyone who appears to have some kind of managerial standing. Two – very little sign of any other subjects, other than the one in here who managed to bloody disappear. Three – not even a hint as to-"

"-Our superiors are very busy- wait a minute- Sir, is that a handgun-?" The professional raised her voice, "Firearms are strictly prohibited, and the possession of such a-"

Turnip just smirked, "-And it's a good idea to raise your voice at someone with a firearm in his possession?"

The professional paused. Turnip had a point. And perhaps more important than having a point, he most certainly had a Desert Eagle resting against his hip. The woman backed away, and when Turnip didn't make any move for his handgun, she bolted out of the door and ran. She'd seemed like a bit of a professional before. Not anymore. She was annoying anyhow, and as much as he knew that frightening her like that wasn't a good idea, it was nice to get rid of the feeling of lack of control that he was having. He felt vague sympathy, since he supposed she was only doing her job, but all-in-all he hadn't really done much to her. Only time would tell what would really come of it. He'd probably wait for some other test subjects and maybe discuss it a little with them, and hopefully he'd get some kind of response from someone who wasn't some anonymous robotic clod.

The young man, Turnip noticed, was still rooted to the spot, having not moved in the entire time the conversation had been happening.

He gave him a nod, not expecting any response, "Hey. 'Sup."

On the other hand, of course, he could take advantage of this situation and take some control himself. Check the system out himself, with a lot more ability to make decisions on his own accord. That new guy would probably do pretty much whatever Turnip told him – so long as he knew how to, at least – and from the general reaction of the staff now that Turnip was causing a bit of a ruckus, he guessed that this facility might not be as sinister as it first appeared. At any rate, it at least didn't seem ready to deal with his shenanigans for the most part. To be honest, Turnip wasn't entirely sure what he had been trying to achieve, or what he wanted to happen, but now his actions ought to send a good message to whomever those higher-up people supposedly were. Turnip wasn't just going to be pushed around – this vegetable meant business.

Turnip spoke, "Hey guy, could you set up to enter me into the thingy?"

"Uh- I- I guess, I've been told how to… uh…" The new guy stuttered. He seemed to come to some kind of decision, "You need to remove the outer stuff. I think your helmet's fine."

"Great." Turnip opened his locker and began removing his trench coat and padding. The guy didn't seem bad, but Turnip thought he'd be safe, so he said, "And by the way, don't even think about going for my gun. Even if you manage to get a hold of it, there are still eighty ways I could kill you with just my chin."

Turnip wasn't sure if it was a lie or not – maybe he could come up with some techniques – but it sounded pretty cool, so he'd roll with it. After a short while, Turnip closed his locker, possessions inside.

"How long?" He asked.

"I'm SYNCHRONISING!" The man squeaked in reply.

Turnip decided that he'd leave the employee to it from then on. He wasn't sure his eardrums would take it.

Accessing .log file RR01TURNIP... Completed.
Loading .log file... loaded.​

With very little warning, Turnip suddenly found himself in a simulation environment. He watched on as Winds Village built itself up around him, black stone buildings materialising out of seemingly nowhere. It didn't look like a village that could exist particularly well realistically, but Turnip would let that slide.

He looked down when he felt something against his leg. Almost instantly, he identified the "something" as a Pokémon egg, flipping it up with his shoe into his hands.

"Yes! I knew it!" He suddenly seemed to become aware of what he'd just done, "Uh… should I really have done that? Ah, Pokémon eggs are pretty much indestructible anyway. Or was it that they were really fragile? Uhh… ah, it's fine. Hmm… so, what's this?"

Turnip turned the egg around in his hands, spotting the notes stuck to its surface. The most important looking ones read:

"Eat me."​

Programmed to hatch: Tynamo.
Tendency: Sickly.

As if on cue, Turnip caught the sound of retching off somewhere ahead and to the left. He didn't know what that was all about… probably best to steer clear. A bad omen, though, considering the Tynamo's apparent tendency. Turnip figured he'd sort out whatever was happening with the egg first, then perhaps take a look around. See if there were any secrets to this place. He looked back down at the egg in his hands.

So, this is programmed to hatch as a Tynamo? He thought, I'm not great with fifth gens – at least, I think it's a fifth gen - but I think it evolves into Elektross. That scary-looking eel thing. Bloody brilliant, considering I'm already intimidating enough as it is. Still, pretty good for battling. Pure electric with levitate is pretty win, I need to get my hands on a thunderstone… Wait a second, did that note say "Eat me"?

Turnip looked again at the notes. Yep, sure enough, there it was. Whatever kind of twisted simulation this was, it wanted him to eat this egg – or the Tynamo that hatches from it.

Turnip voiced his thoughts, "Bloody hell, that's just wrong. I mean, even if I could – you guys think I can eat through this thing?" He looked at the sky and gestured to his helmet. Smiling slyly, the helmeted man took the egg and pressed it directly to his visor. "Mmm, yeah, delicious. Boop!" Turnip put the egg behind his back, and then dropped it. "What a transcendent meal. Oh, what's this?" He looked down, then picked up the dropped egg. "Another mysterious Pokémon egg with-" Turnip removed the attached notes. "-no notes on it! Perhaps I should raise it, this time, instead of eating it like the previous one!"

Turnip was fairly happy with his atrocious charade, and figured he should now wait for the egg to hatch. Didn't the Pokémon games judge time based on steps, though? Maybe he should go for a walk… Turnip concluded that steps were probably the way to go, so he strode off in the direction of the houses on the right.

Pokémon egg safely under his arm, Turnip knocked on the door of the nearest house.

"Hello? Anybody home? No…?"

Given no response, Turnip turned away and started to walk. After about four steps, he stopped, turned, then bolted for the door. He jumped high and kicked the door with both legs – then promptly fell flat to the floor. The door in question remained completely unscathed.

"Agh, cocknuggets." Turnip cursed, "That was a bad idea." He rolled to a sitting position and brought up his egg, thankfully still intact. "Sorry about that, buddy. Tynamo… nickname for a Tynamo… henceforth, you shall be known as… EelFish!"

Turnip stood, holding the egg up high as he proudly proclaimed the name of the Pokémon inside. He quickly stopped, though, and shook himself.

"Man, I get really eccentric when there's no-one around. Ah, well."

From there, Turnip continued his search around the simulation. Winds Village didn't hold many secrets, so the twenty minutes it took for the egg to hatch seemed like an age to the gamer. A lot of aimless strolling, egg-watching and yelling "this is boring" followed for a while, but eventually the egg seemed to become alive with energy. It became far warmer, and started to splinter, eventually shattering to reveal a small, white, eel-like Pokémon with yellow lines on its sides and a red mouth-thing. The Tynamo rose from the wreckage majestically, soaring proudly – before throwing up on Turnip's forearms.

"Took your bloody time, EelFish- wha- did you just vomit on me?"

"Bleh." Was EelFish's only response, followed by a small gush of liquid.

"Well, I guess it's only virtual vomit – Virtual Vomit, only £1.99 at participating – heh, no, uh, it ought not to be a problem. Just try not to do it again."

"Bleh."

"Seriously? Don't play dumb with me, man."

"Bleh."

Turnip sighed in exasperation, "OK, EelFish, please say something coherent."

"Bleh."

"THAT IS NOT COHERENT."

"Bleh."

"What is this!?"

"Bleh."

"WHAT IS THIS!?"

"Bleh."

"WHAT IS MY LIFE!?"

"Bleh."

"DAMMIT. OKAY. Calm… calm. EelFish, if you could just stop vomiting for-"

"Bleh."

"Oh, good lord… why isn't he-? Oh, of course, simulation."

"Bleh."

"It's all programming, so Pokémon are just as responsive as they are to others as they are to me. Huh. Interesting. I hope they still have some level of intelligence – EelFish, nod if you understand me."

"Bleh." EelFish nodded, vomit flowing up and down slightly.

Turnip winced, "Wonderful. Okay, I'm done with this."

"Bleh."

"EelFish, wait around here. I'll try and come back for you. I need to talk with the guys up there about getting stuff within the simulation; I thought there was some kind of currency thing to buy stuff. I could do with a Pokéball. And a trench coat. And a deagle."

"Bleh."

"Okay!" Turnip addressed the sky, "I'm not going to eat Vomitron-3000 here, if that's what you want. I don't know if there are any phones nearby so I can leave the Matrix."

At first it seemed like there was no response, but then Turnip suddenly found the simulation dissolving around him. He was coming back to the real world – who and/or what was waiting for him there, and what repercussions there may or may not be for his antics, he would find out soon enough. Hopefully there would actually be a few more test subjects around – goodness knows what experiences they might have had in the simulation. At last, Winds Village faded into nothing but a black and green grid, and Turnip was returned to reality.

Meanwhile, in the simulation:

"Bleh."

Archiving .log files... Completed.
Closing program...​

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[Swolligator]

Roscoe 'Ross' Specter

With a short, sweet 'beep', the locker door swung open to reveal an empty locker set aside just for him. They all had lockers that would only open to them, and so Ross simply shoved his piled of clothes in, laying his watch and necklace on top carefully. All around him the other participants were clad in their respective black clothing, looking like something out of a horror movie. Ross moved uncomfortably in his own turtleneck and khakis, as if they had purposefully given him clothing that was slightly too small, but when he asked if they had a size up, the 'scientists' dressing him were adamant that it was the right size for him. On the front, left breast of the turtleneck, a small, metallic, red Pacman ghosts lay attacked in full view of all others to see. While he was one for retro games, he wasn't entirely sure why he chose the ghost, other than that, from what he understood it would help the scientists to differentiate him from other participants. However, looking around he could see that he was both the tallest and also most well-built of the participants.

Shutting the locker, he turned the brick like gaming device over and over in his hands. As a kid, he had played Tetris on the system multiple times, but as he grew up, grew more apart from the gaming style of life. It was a blast from the past, but the green text running down the screen on the black background almost made him want to vomit. He pocketed the device, opting instead to stretch his muscles before entering the Barriers System, whatever that was. They had been given little to no information on most of the experiments, apart from the fact that they were the lab rats in some sort of testing phase. Needless to say, they were all standing around waiting for the system to boot up and drop them into the so called 'game'.

The switch from the white walled common room into the barriers system surprised Ross as they room seemed to dissolve around them into an awful palate of orange and black, as if they had hired a colour-blind person to work on the palate. He could only stare at the tiny Game Boy Colour screen as lines of code rapidly flew past the screen. He waited for the simulation to completely render before he even tried to make a move. Around him, the orange cobblestone path twisted and turned between the oddly cubic black and orange houses. In the distance, he could see possibly one or two of the other participants, which confused his as they were only a couple of meters away from him in the beginning. He stretched his right hand out to his side, desperately trying to find the lockers, yet his hand only swept through thin air. He remembered there being a table and chairs in the room too, yet nothing seemed to be where it was.

He went to step forward, but a peculiar egg rolled out in front of his foot. Ross would have stepped over it if it wasn't for the strange note stickered to the outside of the egg. Picking it up, the egg felt rather heavy, and was bigger than any chicken or duck egg he had seen before. He turned the pasty green egg over and over in his hands, really feeling the texture of it, it felt as real as anything else in the material world.

Be Careful! I bite hard. Teach me some discipline.
Programmed to hatch: Rattata.
Tendency: Violent and restless.​

"What the hell is a Rattatat?" He murmured to himself as he continued to survey the egg for any other hint of information. He came up with nothing, didn't even know how he was going to even hatch it in the first place, but then again it was simply data.

Shifting the egg to rest in the crook of his left arm and shoving the note in his right pocket, Ross began to survey the village he had been dumped in. He paid most attention to the overall graphical design of the place; the grass not only felt like grass, but looked like it too, even the oddly coloured bricks seemed naturally coloured like that. The place, despite its colour impairment, was so well designed; no graphic design program on the market could match the intensity of it. Placing the egg safely behind his legs, Ross leaned in forward, aligning his elbow with the window as to be able to break it without cutting himself. Pulling back, he breathed in, holding his elbow steady before striking the window on the exhale. The window didn't magically disappear like he had thought it would, but rather it shattered both inside and outside of the house, the tiny pieces of glass ringing as they hit the cobblestone below. Inside looked like a foreboding, dark void as if its sole purpose was to suck even light into it, sending shivers down Ross' spine.

Pulling his elbow around, he took a quick look at the ripped fabric of his shirt and the slow trickle of blood that began to emit from the shallow cuts. He felt really puzzled at that moment, on one hand, he felt pain as if he had just smashed his elbow into a glass window pain, but on the other, he felt nothing but a dull throbbing emitting from his elbow as if it was simply bruised. Whether this was a part of the program to make him think he was bleeding or not, it began messing with his head. Scrunching his eyes together, he focussed on the pain at hand; that dull throbbing coming from his elbow. When he opened his eyes, he found the turtleneck unharmed and no residue of blood to be seen.

"This system just keeps on getting better and better," he spoke to the egg as he brought it back to its previous occupation in the crook of his arm.

For the next ten minutes, Ross continued his self-obsessed inspection of the environment dubbed 'Wind Village". He tried twisting a door knob, but found it locked firmly, ran his hand over the smooth surface of the black brick houses and bumpy cobblestone path. He even made it as far out as the trees that apparently lined the edge of the room, feeling the differing grooves in each slice of bark. Everything in this world was screaming at him that it was real, but in his mind he knew it was simply a computer program made to mimic the real world. Clutching his forehead in agony, he felt a headache blossom into existence as he fell to his knees, the egg rolling out of his grip and into the soft bed of grass.

It was the cracking that made Ross snap out of his crisis, thinking the world around him was breaking apart. Instead, it was the claws scratching against the fragile eggshell that drew his attention away. Crouching on his knees, he stopped all actions to watch the egg break apart bit by bit until a small, purple head poked through the head of the egg. The small, rat Pokémon was unlike anything he had seen in Toronto before, and he almost thought he could like it until the rest of its head rose up showing two large, teeth jutting out from its upper jaw.

"Rat?" the purple rodent tilted its head to the side, as if quizzically considering what relation Ross was to it.

"Oh, sh*t," was all he said as he noticed the gleam in its eyes. Stumbling to his feet, he began legging it around the outside of the village, the small rodent voraciously chasing after him. "Guys, guys guys! You can turn the simulation off!" he yelled at the sky as he pelted around the houses.

Just as he was passing a break between two houses, he noticed a glowing ball roll right past in front of him. The fact that it emitted heat and was glowing was enough to tell Ross that whatever it was, was going to explode, and sure enough, he brought his arms up to protect his face as he heard the ball explode with a large 'bang'. He waited to be buffeted by air or thrown off of his feet, but when he opened his eyes, he was standing back in the bland, white room with the other participants.

Letting out a deep sigh, he counted his luck before looking down at the small device he held in his hands. The green text had slowed down considerably since synchronising with the program earlier on, slowing to the point where the final word flashed up: 'complete'.​

 

[Khawill]

I sighed as I entered the world. I was bored by a lack of any logical games to play on my way here. A child handed me his handheld game console and I was able to beat most of his pre-downloaded puzzle games in less time than it took to get to another stop. The clothing they have me wear is fine, as it takes away the wasted time of looking for something to put on. The device is like the kid's handheld, but much more complicated, and when I look at it, I feel like it is just a big hilarious joke.

Dismissing my tangents, I hooked up to the system and arrived in the first "setting" which was a decent looking town. Additionally there was a an egg resting against my leg. A rhyme during my first mission. I thought cynically. It had a note attached, which I read carefully out loud,
"I'm lazy. Get me to run."
Programmed to hatch: Gastly.
Tendency: Extraordinarily lazy.

"What in gods name is a ghastly..." I said out loud, "And what kind of mission is getting one to stop being lazy?!" I sat down cross-legged in front of it and stared at it annoyed. After two awful minutes I was close to pulling my hair out, after ten I nearly exploded. After twenty I was hoping that a punching bag would come out of that egg. Instead a literal ball of gas with a face hatched out. "Is this a joke?!" I yelled. The monster was floating close to the ground, yawning as if he had been the one sitting around. "It doesn't even have legs!" I sighed and rubbed my head. I wondered if this was some kind of animal, or maybe an experimental subject. I also wondered horrified by what could possibly have laid that egg. "Ok, Gastly, I want you to run so I can actually do a real challenge."

The monster just levitated there silently.

"Of course it is like a cat." I exclaimed, "I swear, this better not be a pet training school." I sat on the ground and meditated. Get him to run. I thought to myself, What gets people to run? Obesity? Insecurity? Food? The monster was a literal orb, so obesity wasn't exploitable, not that it would have really been in the first place. I doubted the thing was insecure about anything, and I deduced his only drive would be food. I walked up to it and attempted to touch it, with my handing passing right through it. "Great, its a ball of gas." I said sarcastically, "Something laid an egg with a ball of gas with eyes." I began laughing madly, "What is next an egg that contains a bag a trash, or maybe a freaking candle." I began to wish I had knowledge of what this thing was, especially since it was so unnatural.

I began pacing back and forth, pondering how much more crazy things could get. Suddenly I felt myself trip and fall to the ground. I jumped up angrily and looked around. The ball of gas had moved closer and had used hands that he had materialized to trip me. He seemed to be mildly amused by it. "Really funny guy eh?" I retorted, "I bet you love games don't ya?"

The little monster simply nodded. Or rather moved its supposed face up and down.

"Lets play a game of hide and seek then." I said. "You can wait here, and when I call for you, come find me." The idea of playing this game was too barbaric for me, and I felt childish for doing it. I hoped it would run, or do whatever it is that I was supposed to get him to do. I walked into a building and opened all of the windows and looked for my escapes. I also made a sufficient amount of footsteps going away from the building just in case it came to close. I waited for at least ten minutes before going out to see that the monster had not moved.

I sighed, it truly was lazy. I went toward the forest and looked at the resources I had. I devised a plan after about two minutes. I gathered up a pile of fallen leaves and sticks, pulled some vines, and began making a large fan. The work took me more time than it took to think of, and I was annoyed at the dirt. When I finished I felt satisfied with the design, it would be enough to test I theory.

I walked up behind the thing and began fanning it as hard as I could. Just as I suspected, the thing was almost entirely gas and began to flee swiftly from the source of the wind. It came back with an annoyed look on its face, so I answered, "You are the one who tripped me buddy." I looked at my device and it flashed the word Complete before disappearing. "Stupid creature." I mumbled before dematerializing. I saw the thing give me a taunting face before I disappeared.

I stood in the white room with other participants. I wondered if they had experienced the same kind of monstrous creature I had.

 

[Skymin]

> [ROZEBUN]
> Rosalee Bennett
> SCENARIO RR01/BASIC_MODv.57

She stood there, a little unsure what had been asked of her. She stood in what had been explained to her as "Winds Village", watching her environment as it was built up around her, turning from a white-walled, hospital-like room to a little town of some kind. A strange town at that, with cubic-looking dark buildings with orange doors and windows. The floor beneath her, as the environment finished being created, was also a startling orange, but Rosalee had to remind herself that this was a created scenario and that some poor fool with zero sense of design had created this eyesore of a town. She also had to remind herself that it was probably a programmer who did this and she couldn't remember the last time she saw a programmer with a proper sense of colour schemes.

She suddenly felt a weight on her foot as an egg materialised on it, a note sitting on top of it. She picked up both, cradling the egg in her left arm as she held the note with her right. She read it aloud, to let it sink in.

"Teach me how to dance." She stared at the note for a few moments and then back at the egg. This was a Pokémon egg, wasn't it? God, she couldn't remember the last time she had involved herself with Pokémon. She had one, a Sentret if she recalled correctly, as a pet when she was younger but had never been much of the Pokémon battling or breeding type. There was nothing wrong with the career path, only that Rosalee liked to be in control when she was the boss and not have some Charmander lighting you on fire when you told it to distract the opponent. Pokémon were too unpredictable. It was bad enough that she had to work with humans. But maybe it was their ability to be unpredictable that made them so entertaining to watch in battles.

So, alright, she was meant to teach this whatever how to dance. Was it meant to hatch? Did she just have to wait for it? Maybe there was something in town which helped it hatch, like a hammer or something. She went with her intuition and took a small stroll around town, her eyes flicking off to the other subjects warily, standing just out of sight. She avoided them like the plague; she wasn't about to help nor give help to any of these amateurs.

She noticed, stepping under the shade of one of the god awful buildings, that the simulation had weather, which was rather pleasant. The white-walled facility had that feeling of air-conditioning, where it was too cold for t-shirts but too warm for a coat. Maybe that's why they were all wearing these disgusting turtlenecks. Rosalee pulled at the neck, wondering who the hell design all this crap. An uninsightful person, that was for sure. No sense of design. None. The lack of it all just frustrated her a lot more than it should have. Maybe she should work for these schmucks after this was all over to save the next lot of subjects running through these halls from bare walls and ugly turtlenecks.

The egg in her arm made a clicking noise and before she knew it, the egg in Rosalee's arm had suddenly become a tree with legs. It had a long neck, leafy wings (is that what they were), yellow buds under its chin and kind of looked like a dinosaur. She took a sudden liking to it; at least this Pokémon had been well designed from whatever higher power or science that had created it.

The GameBoy she had shoved into her pocket before entering the scenario beeped loudly. Rosalee pulled it out with her spare hand, reading the green and black script which appeared on it.

> "Teach me how to dance."
> Programmed to hatch: Tropius.
> Tendency: Easily confused and startled.​

That was her objective? Rosalee scoffed at the text, shoving the GameBoy right back into her pocket. She could barely dance herself, how was she meant to teach a neurotic dinosaur how to do it? Maybe the hokey pokey or the macarena... without arms. The swim? Eagle rock? Twerking? Whatever, she'd figure it out.

"Hi there," she said to the Tropius. "Ready to learn how to dance?"

It stared back at her from her arms, tilting its head the way dogs do when they don't quite understand what you want them to do. Weren't Pokémon meant to understand the English language or were they like humans and they had to learn it as the grew up? If it was the latter, well, that would be a big waste of time. She'd have to try body language, but risk looking like a total moron in front of these morons? Not if she could help it.

She ducked out of sight, behind another god awful building, and plopped the dinosaur on the ground.

"Alright. Dancing. Uh, step one: move your feet. Like, uh, this." She swayed her feet on the ground, feeling like that undrunk dope in a nightclub who really didn't want to be there. The Tropius watched her feet cautiously but didn't respond in the way she wanted, just exchanging looks between her feet and her face. "You're meant to be doing this. Dinosaur, copy me."

The Tropius did diddly squat other than just look at her. Rosalee stopped, her temper slowly rising. Humans were more co-operative than this.

"Listen here, buddy. I don't want to be dancing in front of you as much as you are confused about this thing, so why don't you just sway your feet and we'll call it even?" The Tropius just dipped its head the other way. It was ignoring her? That wasn't something she could tolerate for long. "HEY!"

Her shout did almost what she wanted it to do. Yeah, the Tropius changed its reaction, but it seemed to yelp and make a run for it. Oh. Yeah. 'Easily startled'. Smart move, Rosie. She took off after it, dipping around the corner only to see a Electrode roll past a few streets ahead and out of sight, followed by a loud explosion. The Tropius yelped again, turning tail the other way, right into Rosalee. It bumped into her and fell down, Rosalee stopped and leaning on her knees. She did not like running. At all.

"Alright, uh, okay," she puffed, trying to think what to do. She had to remember: this was a digital projection. Everything here, par her and the other subjects, were just lines of code. So they followed a program. It was probably like the Matrix or something, where code developed over time but still followed if and then statements over and over. So Pokémon were programmed like, well, Pokémon. Which were just animals. And animals all seemed to follow a similar pattern when it came to learning things; praising on good behaviour and scolding on bad. So she just had to use positive reinforcement when it moved. Of course, she had no snacks but she could pat it or something. Whatever. "Alright, I got it now."

When the Tropius got to its feet, it seemed an awful lot less startled, which was a good thing. She clicked her fingers to grab its attention in a non-startling way. When it heard the noise, its eyes flicked to her hands. She then continued to click her fingers at a consistent rate, keeping its attention somewhat focused, and circling its head slowly. The Tropius followed the clicking fingers, hanving to turn itself around to do so. It might not be able to follow basic orders, but if it could follow basic instinct, she might be able to do this. And according to Rosalee, spinning around in circles could be considered dancing.

When the Tropius had maybe spun around five or six times, she stopped it and gave it a bunch of "Good job!"s and "Well done!"s, patting it on the head and rubbing its belly. It seemed to enjoy it enough, the confused look fading and turning into something Rosalee could have considered 'happiness'.

So, she rinsed and repeated. Clicking and spinning followed by the positive reinforcement. This went on for what felt like four hours (but was probably maybe one) until she removed her hand from spinning the Tropius around, and just clicked. The Tropius was confused for a moment, but knew what it did when she clicked all those other times, spinning around, basically looking like it was chasing its tail (or leaf wings. Whatever). Rosalee laughed, stopping it and giving it another round of positive reinforcement. If she was bothered, she could probably train it to spin faster and slower depending on how fast she clicked. But, she wasn't.

"You could count that as dancing, right?!" she shouted to the Heavens above her. The environment started to break down and Rosalee sighed. She hoped that the next scenario wasn't as dumb as this one.​