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Shout out to @Tormented for paying for this site which doesn't do much of anything for him. Given a certain other site is being filled with bots I'm even more appreciative than before. Even if not many people are around it's still nice to have this place.

Once Z. and Hector got back, it was time to distribute. This was trickier than Z. expected, though. Not everyone wanted or in fact deserved some fruit. The former category was taken up by everyone surrounding Clobber the Clobbopus and his newfound coconut-cracking abilities and the latter category, well… Jirachi was busy producing fruit of his own, so he didn’t need any fruit either. Whatever. There were still a few people/Pokémon milling about, so Z. stopped pretending to be Hector and picked one of them. Chester seemed especially aimless, having just walked up to the stream and then just back again, so Z. zeroed in on him. “Catch,” Z. tossed an apple at Chester’s head, though with a bit of underthrow, the apple landed just short of the Chespin. “Eat up,” they said. “Need all the calories you can get if we’re gonna be saving the world.” They looked past Chester to the rushing stream. “Were you trying to catch a look at your reflection in there? Water’s kind of fast for that. I tried to be a Froakie earlier and just ended up looking like a Treeko.” They frowned. “Other way around.” Why was it so hard to get that right? Hadn’t Marv always been a Froakie? “Whatever.” Chester picked up the apple from the ground and looked at it. “I was, and well, it is. Sadly, I am not too accustomed to this body yet, familiar as it may be in a general sense.” The Chespin waved his stubby arms at his side as if to convey this feeling. Then he let out a small, if not begrudging, “Thanks,” gesturing to the apple. “Sure,” Z. said. “Hey, though, hold still.” Z. did the same thing they did with Hector, pacing around their target, trying to get a good idea of exactly how they looked from every angle, and, when they were ready, did another sick backflip and came down as a copied Chespin. “There’s a better look, I hope,” they said. They imitated Chester’s stubby arm wave and pensive face. “I guess it’s more like this right now, though.” Like, Hector, Chester was suitably impressed. “That is quite the amazing skill, Z. I suppose it would make sense being a Zorua you’d be able to pull off illusions like that, just as my own head is harder than steel. And it’s a better mirror than the river, I suppose. Though, uh,” his mood shifted back to concerned as he studied the finer details of Z.’s illusion “do I really look like that?” Z. tried a few more different poses. “Close, anyway. I don’t think it's perfect perfect yet. I can feel certain things just not working right. I can’t do stuff I think that I should, but I already promised myself those were- Oh, you mean the face? Yeah, my guy. You look so fucking lost right now, I’d be surprised if you knew which way was up.” “Ugh, how mortifying.” The (real) Chespin brought a stub to his face. “I suppose I have had a lot on my mind with all the recent developments. Though!” Chester pointed skyward. “I am very much aware which way is up right now, thank you.” Z. resisted the urge to roll their eyes, if only because they couldn’t imagine Chester doing anything of the sort, and they were still mimicking him as best they could. They focused on the second of those sentences instead. “Yeah?” they said. “Which one’s more shocking to you, waking up one morning from a night of uneasy dreams and finding yourself transformed into a Pokémon, or being conscripted by a demigod to save a world you know nothing about?” Continuing their mimic, they also brought a stub to their head, jamming it right under their chin. “Or is it a secret third thing?” They needn’t have bothered with the mimicking. Chester wasn’t paying attention to the physical mockery at all. He earnestly answered the question. “I feel like I have taken to being in a new body surprisingly well actually. Jirachi’s proposition is also exciting, if not a bit daunting, especially with how little we have to go on.” His voice got low, but the next question was still clearly directed at Z. “How exactly does someone help another in a situation they’re both wildly unfamiliar with?” “Oh god, teamwork questions.” Now it was Z.’s turn to bury their head in their stumps for real this time. “You moderated me enough on the forum, so you know I'm not the person to ask for that stuff, especially when someone else is already a one-person team.” They did another sick backflip, but their memory of what Hector looked like all joined together was already fuzzy, so their impression came out the same. Z. dismissed it quickly. “Fucking… Okay. But you did ask me. I think, then, the best thing someone who's lost can do for another lost person is just be there with them. Nobody wants to be lost alone.” “Right, I should have kept in mind who I was asking,” Chester joked. “But if that’s all it takes…” He looked past Z. over to Hector. “But you would expect someone to be spearheading the rest, correct? Showing them which way to go?” Z. couldn’t help but stare. “You’re really hung up on this, huh?” they said. “I mean, you could fight him on it. Six on one doesn't seem like a fair fight but I've got a feeling in my gut that says I’ve taken worse bets. Maybe you haven’t. I dunno. But okay, just between you and me, but when I jumped into the water all the way back at the bottom of that dungeon, I absolutely wanted people to follow me, even if I didn’t say it. That sort of teamwork, if it does need a set leader at all, is a two-way street all the same. Of course, who did end up following me…” Z. left an empty space. They didn’t even want to think the name. “well, that’s what I mean about two-way streets, I guess. “Oh, but if you tell anyone I said any of that, I’ll peel your little green shell off of your little brown head and drag it through the mud.” Chester nodded along. “I see…” Then he started to laugh. “You’re more of a team player than I gave you credit for, Z. And if that’s the case, don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me. I may not be perfect, but I always respect another’s wishes. Now,” and this is where the laughter really got going, “let us be lost together!” And they wandered back off to the rest of the group for real this time. Z. shook their head. Part of them felt like a suck-up, going right after both moderators and getting back in their good graces. It was just part of the dance, of course. Act out, lie low, accrue social capital, and spend it all. But then again, Chester and Hector weren’t moderators anymore. They were people, and like Z. had just said, they were all lost. Before they could get too lost, they noticed something still on the ground. “Hey!” they called out. “Actually take your fucking apple!” They threw it at Chester’s head again -- harder this time.Z. balanced their new badge on both of their front paws, observing it as it glinted in the sunlight. It was just the right size to fit at the base of their new Zorua neck, but there were other ramifications to consider. Would it work while they had an illusion up, or did they have to illusion up a fake badge too to use the real one? It seemed like such an easy thing to test out, but they didn’t want to get sidetracked. They were playing good right now. That would probably change once they got where they were going, of course, and they’d otherwise have to force themself to listen to everyone’s yammering, but sure they could play nice for now. They put the badge down for a moment and took a drink of water. Were they supposed to set a home point now? Was this home? They hadn’t been lying about that Hierarchy of Needs snark. As frivolous as that chart was, shelter was still the next step. Was the night sky going to be their blanket? Z. scratched behind their ear and consciously felt the Zorua fur in the way. That would help in that case. Maybe they were supposed to make a bunch of lean-tos. Whatever. It didn’t matter. Not right now, anyway. “Alright,” Z. said, finally putting the badge on. “Let’s go get lost.”

A Knight's Tale Ends "Sir Petrus...?" Petrus heard the cooing of Gwenllian, causing the red armored knight to turn away from his steed, to see the princess standing at the doorway to the stables. "My princess, why have you come?" he sighed, looking away from the beautiful one before him. "I had wished not to see you, before I departed." "Yes, Sir Petrus." Gwenllian responded softly. "But I could not, nay, I would not be alright until I saw you off. After your engagement with the dragon under Adrien's control and even stopping Adrien from his unfathomable techniques in the dark arts, I prayed you would stay for a bit longer." "Aye, and I would indeed stay." Petrus spoke, his gaze returning to Gwenllian. "But you know as well as I do, my princess, that the longer I stay, the more danger that would be caused by Adrien and his magic. It is the duty of a knight to protect what I care for..." he paused. "To protect who I care for." The two continued to stare at each other, until finally Gwenllian embraced Petrus, holding him tightly and not letting go. Petrus could hear the young girl sobbing, even hearing her tears colliding with his crimson armor. He tried his hardest to fight the tears that hung in his eyes, but it was not to be. From his eyes, the crimson knight began to cry as well, continuing to hold onto Gwenllian and not letting her go. The minutes seemed to tick away as the two continued to hold each other endearingly, but alas, this slowly was broken apart by the crimson knight. Petrus wiped the tears from his eyes and then Gwenllian's eyes, before he took her hand and slightly kissed it. "Gwenllian, I promise to you, I will return to you." he spoke, his voice cracking with sadness. "I will defeat Adrien and return to you." Gwenllian's hand remained held by Petrus until she put her other hand on top of his. She gave off a faint smile before slipping something into his hand. It was a small ring with the emblem of a spider engraved into it. "Then return to me, Sir Petrus." she said softly. "This will give you reason to return to me." The crimson knight remained quiet, only holding the ring in his hand as he looked at Gwenllian. A small nod came forth as he turned and mounted his steed, before trotting out of the stables. With a small jolt of his foot, the painted horse galloped away fast from the kingdom. He jolted his foot again, the horse ran faster. Then faster. And faster... Petrus tugged on the reins of the horse, before he stopped and looked back behind him. Now the kingdom of Orléans was but a faint glimpse, a far distant goal now. He looked away, directing his gaze only to the spider engraved ring. His mind could only drift back to Gwenllian and her beauty. Petrus couldn't stand being apart from the love of his life, but he swore an oath, and as a knight, he knew he would have to uphold it. He put the ring into the satchel on the horse, before jolting its side again, riding off towards the rising sun. The sunlight glistened over his crimson armor. And once more, the spider knight rode off, to finish his quest once and for all. He looked at his computer screen, letting out a loud sigh. Right now, that was the last page he had on the story he’d been working on and off entitled “Of Spiders & Knights”. This was a project that Marcus had started since he was fourteen. Of course, it would’ve been done quicker iiiiiiiiiif he wasn’t also moonlighting as the one and only arachnid based hero and saving the city. He finally got up from his chair, moving away from his desk as he moved around his apartment. “Okay you guys…hit save on that for me…I'll send it to Triple J by the end of the day.” he said, pointing at a small group of spiders that were by his keyboard and mouse, to which they immediately went to work on saving the document quite a few times. "Who am I? You sure you want to know? Alright then, let's start at the beginning, one last time. Same story, different beats." From the Top! "My name is Marcus Mattox. I solved an ancient tablet and got bit by a mystical spider, and for the last four years I've been New York's one and only Spider-Man Multi-Threader! Pretty sure the rest of the narrative you know, or at least the broad strokes of it. Became Anansi's ambassador, became a superhero, lost my dad, saved a bunch of people, saved the city...quite a few times actually, fell in love...uh...she's on the wrong side of the law currently...hopefully that'll change, wrote a book...well...attempting to write a book. Hey, you try and juggle being an aspiring writer while also being a protector of the city and tell me how easy it is! Ahem...anyway, even though I have to juggle the career I'm chasing and being a spider-based hero, I wouldn't trade it for the world. After all, I'm the only thing standing between New York and the ever oncoming threats that rear their ugly heads. It's my story that I've been blessed with...and I'm going to see it through to its final chapter!" “Grazie, the first of many tales that'll be written for the Daily Bugle Publishing. Now…let’s see if the city that never sleeps has anything new for me.” Marcus said, immediately flipping on a police scanner whilst grabbing his phone. He started flipping around it as the scanner crackled to life. “ALL UNITS! We have a situation…” the voice said immediately. Marcus knew that always meant something ‘fun’ was afoot. Whilst shoving a chocolate chip muffin down his gullet, he could hear the scanner continue. “...Repeat! Mysterio in Times Square!” “Oooooh, more waxing lyrical with the discount Sorcerer Supreme!” Marcus laughed, fastening his web-shooters onto his wrists. Hang On...! Let's review this... "Bit of background on one Quientin Beck AKA Mysterio. He was generally just an illusionist that played shows out here in NYC, but he had the aptitude and determination to do more. Apparently he went to study the Mystic Arts from our own Sorcerer Supreme, Dr. Strange. So he had the drive, the aptitude and determination…he ended up getting to the top in terms of skill levels to an extent…so what happened? Well, you're Friendly Neighborhood Multi-Threader happened. Mind you…not purposely. See about this time, Strange sought me out for a potential candidate for his replacement and wanted to train me. Now, this was short lived, considering the guy was very strict when teaching anything in the Mystic Arts, plus he hated how I utilized tech with my powers. Nice guy though, we occasionally chit chat from time to time, play chess…even assists me with ideas for my books…annnnnd I'm rambling. Back to the present topic! Beck seems to resent me, not only taking away his chance to become the next Sorcerer Supreme, buuuuuuut I sort of saw him attempting to mess with the wrong kind of magic while he was at Kamar-Taj. We're talkin' like serious Dark Dimension stuff, the kind that would probably make Criss Angel blush. Downside, most of Beck's stuff is all just illusionary based, cause that's all he's good with. Maybe one day he'll surprise me though." HELLO NEW YORK!!! He grabbed his suit and immediately tossed it on, sliding the mask on last. He flung his apartment window open and took a running leap out of it, immediately launching himself outward, shooting a web as it caught the corner of a building, slinging him around to follow after New York’s Finest, already rushing to the scene. The exhilarating rush of the web-swinging helped Marcus…Multi-Threader…focus and clear his head. Right now, he knew how the former Sorcerer Supreme candidate operated, he was a sucker for the audience…a sucker for theatrics, so if he played his cards right…it would be simple. His thoughts, however, were cut short by the ringing of his phone. Luckily he had the earpiece in his ear. “Hellooooooo?~” he answered with a laugh. “I assume you overheard the news?” the young man’s voice on the other end said. “Oh hey, kiddo!” Multi-Threader laughed, doing a quick flip in the air during his web-swinging. “Yeah, it’s ol’ fish-bowl head. So, we know what’s going on at present, Terry?” Terry simply sighed on the other end. “Honestly, it seems like the same situation as usual, buuuuuuut…looks like he brought in a giant wyrm-like dragon.” “A wyrm?! Oh man, he’s really upping his game if he’s going that far for an illusion!” Multi-Threader smirked, flipping over onto a SWAT truck’s roof. “Either way, this should prove to be fun for me…gotta cut loose after finally finishing that final chapter! Anyway, talk with you later bro…enjoy the show!” He cut the call short, holding onto the truck’s roof, watching them turn sharply into Times Square. Even before the turn, however, he was already feeling that sensation. His hairs standing on end, a tingling sensation at the back of his skull and the general chills he felt: his Spider-Sense. Once the turn was made, lo and behold, there was the green scaled menace of a wyrm dragon, terrorizing the citizens. “Sheesh, he wasn’t kidding…talk about a humongous beast!” he whistled, flipping off the truck’s roof and onto a nearby building wall. "Let's see if Beck's taught it any cool tricks." “BEHOLD!!! The return of the master of the arcane arts: Mysterio!!” a figure spoke, simply walking down a set of green magical steps. The man in a green pressed suit with a smokey fish-bowl helmet descended into the Square. “Purveyors of this new age, attempting to banish the old arts from this world, see before you the wyrm summoned straight from the Dark Dimension! You must know now that your resistance to the old arts is futile!” “So does Dormammu know that you took his pet or did you borrow it without permission?” Multi-Threader piped up, waving a bit at the villain, who now turned towards him. “Awww, what’s wrong Beck, you don’t seem happy to see me. Then again, it’s always hard to tell with that small fish tank on your head.” “Wall-crawler! You shall not hinder my plan to become the new Sorcerer Supreme this time!” Mysterio shouted, his hands began to have a magical aura around them as two green triangles began to spin in front of them. “Tibi gratias agimus quod nihil fumas!” He spoke, shooting out two green magical beams straight at the spider based hero. “-Well I tend not to smoke anything, it’s bad for the whole hero image!-” Multi-Threader shot back in perfect Latin, which seemed to make Mysterio grumble under his breath. The wall-crawling hero immediately jumped off the building’s roof, narrowly dodging the two blasts as he fired a web onto another nearby building and swung around Mysterio, flipping upwards as he shot a web ball filled with a few spiders right at the sorcerer. “Seriously Beck, I think you need to come up with some new ‘incantations’, and maybe ones that actually make sense?” “You insolent arachnid!” Mysterio shouted, already attempting to knock the spiders from the web ball off his clothing. “Totem of Anansi, you shall cease this mocking of the TRUE Sorcerer Supreme!!” “Hey, what can I say…I’m a mocker, I mock!” Multi-Threader landed on a nearby roof, immediately firing two webs at a nearby air conditioning unit that was on the roof. It was a bit of public property damage, but he figured New York would look past that part. “I’m also a puller…a tugger…a yaaaaaanker!” he grunted, pulling the unit off and proceeded to swing it around before launching it at the arcane lunatic. “Guess I’m just a general jack of all trades!” “Denique diatem efficacem inveni!” Mysterio fired off another set of magical energy in the direction of the flying air conditioning unit. “Beast of the Dark Dimension, dispose of this meddlesome spider!” he commanded the wyrm, to which Multi-Threader was now realizing..it was real, the damage it was doing definitely seemed 100% real. But luckily no one was injured that he could see…so it could’ve been much, much worse. “First, congrats on the new effective diet my guy. What did you decide to cut out…the fish?” he quipped, knocking on his head to refer to the fish-bowl helmet. “Secondly, color me impressed, Quentin! You managed to actually conjure something that isn’t a pale imitation and illusion! Maybe I should call the doc and have him inspect the impressive feat!” The wyrm roared as it slithered towards the wall-crawler, to which Multi-Threader leapt from the roof and proceeded to aim right in the direction of the creature’s face. “Let’s try and blind this guy…alright fellas, show time!” he said, holding his hands in front of him as he flung a few spiders that crawled along from them towards the oncoming beast. Once they were on the creature, Multi-Threader immediately moved mid-air to narrowly grab onto the wyrm. “Okay…time for some blindness. Go for its eyes!” For some, it would look like nothing was happening at first…until a loud, ear-piercing roar was heard from the wyrm…what truly was happening was Multi-Threader’s spiders were in the process of biting the creature’s eyes over and over again. “Alright, that’s Plan A…now…didn’t get to Plan B yet…” he grumbled, before running along the wyrm’s back, webbing one side of it’s head before swinging around it’s open mouth, narrowly avoiding it’s closing jaws, before webbing the other side. Now he held a makeshift set of webbed reins. “Alright boy…HEEL!!!” he shouted, yanking the reins upward and getting the wyrm to cease its moves.Eventually, it would stop, whether by the pulling or just due to the sheer exhaustion it was feeling. Regardless of the reason, he let go of the reins and stood victoriously over the wyrm…who…began to fade and disappear beneath his feet. “Awwww, so it was an illusion? Man, you had me convinced there Beck. Lemme take a guess…illusions with a sort of a Dark Dimension styled buff to make em feel more realistic in the moment? Gotta say, you're putting more work into this than you usually do. It's almost impressive…almost being the keyword." “Grrrr…you and your insistent meddling with my destiny shall not stand, wall-crawler!” Mysterio began to slowly descend, holding a hand out towards Multi-Threader. “Credo Elvem ipsum etiam vivere!” A quick bolt of magic was delivered towards the spider-hero, with another being prepared in succession. Multi-Threader glanced over, seeing a manhole cover and immediately fired a web at it, yanking it towards him as he used it as a shield against the first bolt of magic. He immediately spun a bit before launching it at Mysterio. “Cap…eat your heart out! Also, I'd kindly ask you to leave Elvis out of this. Let the King of Rock rest already, for Pete Sake!” Mysterio was hit by the manhole cover, trying to get his bearings back together, grumbling. “Nullae satisfactionis p-...” “Yeah yeah, you can’t get no satisfaction!” Multi-Threader was already right there in front of Mysterio, delivering a punch right into his helmed face, knocking him onto the ground. “Least you could do is not rip off Mick Jagger…first Elvis now Jagger, for shame.” he said, snapping his fingers as suddenly he was beginning to be webbed up like it was nothing. After a few moments, Multi-Threader had those few spiders start to crawl back up towards him. “Job well done, fellas.” he watched as the last one came up, noticing that it left the message: Baddie Bagged, courtesy of the Magnificent Multi-Threader. “Alright, time for us to go.” Multi-Threader chuckled. “Lest the news media decides to want to pin this on me…oh what am I saying, some most likely will anyway!” He grabbed onto a nearby light pole, swung upwards before firing a web to grab the nearest building, swinging away. Or at least…he would've, if something didn't immediately catch his eye. A bubbling black hole slowly opening nearby. Multi-Threader paused in his stride, sticking to a nearby wall, staring at the strange portal. He tapped his ear and immediately called Terry once more. "Hey kiddo…" "Marc! Saw everything, you really got him good this time round!" "Yeah…listen, there's a strange portal-like sight I'm looking at right now." Multi-Threader continued, sounding a little serious. "May want to cancel the plans with me coming to see you and the missus…" "...Marc don't do anything stupid, please…" A chuckle escaped his lips. "Me? Stupid? C'mon kiddo, it's more-or-less called creative curiosity. I'll be back, don't worry." he said, hearing his brother sigh on the other end. Once the call was over, the arachnid based hero made his way towards it, getting closer and closer…though it was beginning to be a bit too close…like at an alarming rate. "Okay…it's sucking me in like a Hoover…wonderful!!!" Multi-Threader shouted, trying to resist but ultimately took the plunge and was drug in. Hitchhiker's Guide to...the Spider-Verse? Multi-Threader wasn't too thrilled about this insane roller-coaster of a ride he was being taken on…even noticing a few of his spiders crawling on his arm and beginning to web a sign saying: S.O.S. "I doubt anyone's gonna answer that, fellas!" he shouted, falling or being drug along through wherever he was going even more. He did, however, eventually see quite a sight he'd never seen before. Was it…space? No…that couldn't be the case, as he could still breathe. Scratch space out of the equation for the moment. If not space, then what? He didn't have much time to ruminate on it, considering his eyes were glued on the grander picture before him. An infinite web…spread across this strange void. "Curiouser and curiouser…" he muttered, continuing to fall as apparently others before him did. As he passed by…he was stunned at seeing the sights he did. World's that were similar to his own…but vastly different. "It's a full on multiverse…interconnected by these weaved webs…" Multi-Threader guessed to absolutely no one. He had heard that it might've been possible, but this wasn't something he figured was. He passed by a few of these interconnecting threads…seeing the world's and even specific things. For instance, a young man being hit with an ancient arrow and obtaining a ghostly spider-like being that came from within… Then there was a robotic heroine dressed to the nines in black armor… And…was that a horde of spiders, dressed up in a spandex suit? That one there sort of hit home for him to an extent…just like how the world that was in front of him was planning to. "Oh damnit…" he gulped, bracing for impact as he was practically launched right out the portal into the air. It was a strange looking city, though at first glance he could've mistook it for Manhattan. Nevertheless, Multi-Threader exhaled slowly, immediately looking around as he found a nearby rooftop and a billboard on it. "Now…let's hope…my aim ain't off…otherwise this spider is going splat!" he muttered, immediately launching his web right to the billboard. It stuck successfully, allowing him to swing gracefully upward and land on top of the roof. "Alright, stuck the landing!!" Multi-Threader huffed lightly. "Now…where in the world am I?" He looked around, before glancing at the billboard and noticed the words: Metro City. "Metro City? Well, I officially know I'm not in Kansas anymore…and luckily no house was dropped on me." He took a moment to attempt to gather his thoughts, about the time a glider flew past his peripheral. Well, perhaps "flew past" is a bit of a stretch...it was more like it was stationary and hovering at about 50 feet above the roof line. Unbeknownst to him, it wasn't who he thought it was…but he wouldn't know this or care. "Oh goodie, looks like the Wicked Witch sent out at least one of her favorite flying monkeys after me. Well, better not keep ol' Norman waiting!" He began to jump building after building, eventually web-swinging towards the glider. "Ayyyyy Gobby! Been a bit! What's the plan this time? Drag me into a new dimension, attempt to squash the spider? Ooooh! Or are you planning to open that Goblin themed restaurant you've always wanted??" Multi-Threader called after the "Goblin".

High above the streets of Manhattan, a woman looked down from her rooftop perch. Through the black miasma that filled the world's atmosphere, she couldn't see the streets from up here, but she could still hear the traffic, always buzzing about. She wasn't sure how long she'd been sitting up here, but she did know she was getting impatient. "Eden Brock, stop where you are!! We're taking you back to Alchemax, dead or alive!" An exasperated groan escaped Eden's lips. The kind one would make when simply trying to relax, but the same interruption gets in the way every five seconds. Her gaze did turn, but rather than behind her, it was to her right, where, stuck to the wall by what resembled a black, tar-like web, was a young man still struggling to break free. "Who's that?" One of the armed men demanded, nodding toward the trapped man. "What's he doing here?" "Bait." "W--" "Do you even know who you're trying to capture?" "...an Alchemax intern who got fired after stealing Project Venom. Fisk's orders are to bring that thing back to Alchemax so it can be disposed of. With or without you still intact." "Very wrong, very false, and very hostile too." From beneath Eden's jacket came a loud snarling noise. "Oh, we don't like liars, by the way. And we really don't like people threatening or badmouthing us." Getting up to her feet, Eden finally turned to acknowledge the armed squad of men behind her, counting them up real quick in her head before concluding that Alchemax had once again not sent nearly enough people. There was only six of them. "Now, you seem to have been fed false intel, so let's set the record straight, one last time." WE ARE... "My name is Eden Brock, though I've almost forgotten that a couple of times. Seven months ago, I was an unpaid intern at Alchemax who was dragged on-board - against my will, I should add - as the first human test subject for the top-secret Project Venom, which was designed to kill Spider-Girl. We'll give you the short version from there. We got fired, the project was scrapped, and we argued for a few days because two distinct life-forms sharing a body just didn't sit well at first. We reconciled, united under a common goal, and jointly decided to kill Spider-Girl, not because Fisk says so, but because that's what we want. Of course, we want Alchemax destroyed too, each for our own reasons." A black ooze worked its way up most of Eden's body, before branching off at the neck. From the suit of chemical armor, an extra head sprouted, looking directly at the squad of assailants. "We can never go back to our old life. One of us was powerless and afraid, and the other was a lab project not supposed to think or act on its own. Together, we perfectly compliment each other; we're able to do whatever we want, and don't have to be afraid of anyone or anything. We can't describe how liberating that is. And we're certainly not about to let you take that away from us. Not that we think you could, no matter how hard you try or how many of you there are." The head of the suit slid itself into place, wrapping itself around and over Eden's, encasing her entirely in its pitch-black form. "After all, we are Venom. We'd recommend running and saying we evaded your capture attempts, just FYI." "Like hell we're backing down from this kind of paycheck!" With that, the men opened fire, spraying bullets on Venom with every intent to bring the beast down. Only to stop in shock as the chemical suit of armor seemed completely unaffected, its form shifting and churning to push the bullets back out and spill them onto the ground. "Well, we tried." VENOM Venom shot one of their arms forward, as if to punch, despite the distance. From the symbiotic bioarmor's fist, an extra appendage sprang forth with the punch, its end taking a form roughly like the head of a spear, which thrust itself directly through one of the armed men. Their other arm, meanwhile, reached out toward a man on the side, extending into a long, prehensile tentacle. It wrapped itself tight around him, before flinging him up into the air, and he soon disappeared out of view through the miasma. The tentacle then grabbed the next man over, before slamming him into the roof beneath his feet and then dragging him closer to Venom. Once he was close enough, the armor's torso erupted into an array of tentacles, grabbing him and pulling him into the armor, where his form could be seen thrashing and struggling under the bioarmor before slowly stopping, followed by the Venom suit returning to its original size, leaving no trace of the man it had just swallowed. "Die, dammit!" One of the men had managed to reload his gun and open fire again in the time it took to dispose of the first three. Venom simply ran up to the assailant and put all of their might into a single punch, shooting him off the rooftop, across the street, and into the next building over. Their hand then reached out, simply grabbing the next man over by the neck and squeezing tighter and tighter until he stopped moving. Just in time for the man who had been flung up to land back on the roof. With five out of the six armed men disposed of in no time flat, Venom turned its eyes toward the last one. "Tell Fisk to use something much bigger than rifles if he wants to stop us." "So do you just never take a vacation day or something?" Immediately disregarding the last of Alchemax's men, Venom snapped their attention directly behind them, a hungry elation in their voice at the sight of the masked heroine before them. "SPIDER-GIRL! We were getting tired of waiting! We set up bait and everything!" From the back of the bioarmor, a singular tentacle emerged, reaching out and grabbing at the webbing keeping Venom's hostage in place before ripping it out, setting him free. No later than that, however, did the hostage find himself in Venom's grip, and promptly flung off the roof. "Why!?" Immediately, Spider-Girl sprung into action, sprinting past Venom and getting a running start to leap off the roof. Not even a second after taking the leap, however, her spider sense was already going off. Something was behind her and approaching fast, and it didn't take a genius to guess what, or rather, who. Spider-Girl swung her arm out to the side, shooting out a string of webbing to a nearby building, and immediately yanking on it to fling herself to the side. Not a moment too late, either, as she right after saw Venom dart past her, in a trajectory that would have definitely let them catch Spider-Girl had she reacted just a moment later. "DON'T IGNORE US!" Venom roared, as they fell past Spider-Girl and faded from view through the miasma. BATTLE ABOVE NEW YORK Ignoring Venom's demands to not be ignored, Spider-Girl started forward again, using the same method she'd used to avoid Venom's attack. She had to find that hostage, and catch him before he turned into a red splat on the pavement. She liked to think she was getting pretty good at the whole web-swinging thing, but even so, she was putting everything she had into a mad dash down the street. Not long after her initial dodge, however, she could sense it again. Venom wasn't giving up that easily, and they were leaping for Spider-Girl at a point in her swing where she didn't really have the ability to dodge well enough to escape. Venom and Spider-Girl collided, crashing into the walls of a nearby building where the pair stuck themselves. Once on the wall, Venom reared back their right fist, making sure to keep the left hand on the wall to prevent Spider-Girl from chasing down the hostage any further. Their fist shot forward, but Spider-Girl moved her head aside to avoid the punch, and all that happened for it was Venom's fist went through the steel walls of whatever building they were on. They tried to swing their arm from where it was, but Spider-Girl ducked out of the way, slipping out of Venom's range by letting herself fall through the gap between their legs, and leaving a gaping gash where once there was a fist-sized hole in the wall as the only sign either woman was there to begin with. "Spider sense... how annoying." "Maybe you should take some time off to relax," Spider-Girl called out, starting off in the hostage's direction again. "I bet a good spa day would do wonders for that complexion of yours!" As Spider-Girl sent out her next web line to continue swinging, Venom extended a tentacle from their hand, wrapping it around the heroine's leg and pulling back, stopping her escape once again. In return, Spider-Girl grabbed the tentacle with both hands, and with the full, unrestricted use of her strength, pulled on both ends, ripping the end that had grabbed her off from the rest of the tentacle. A surge of pain shot through Venom's bioarmor, and the pair let out a horrible, primal shriek as the sudden sensation shot through them, causing them to lose their focus and fall to the streets below, leaving behind a loud thud and a small crater at the point of impact as Spider-Girl started retreating yet again. "Ohhh... we're gonna enjoy killing her, and we're gonna do it slowly so we can savor the moment," Venom growled, as they got back up to their feet. Back above the streets, meanwhile, Spider-Girl could hear someone shouting for help. A wave of relief washed over her on the fact that, based on where it was coming from, Venom's unlucky victim had found himself something to hang onto before taking a fatal fall to the streets below. As she got closer, however, she heard something large and metallic from below. Even without the spider sense, she could tell Venom was up to something. From underneath her, a large semi truck quickly came into view, springing out of the miasma and heading straight for her. With no time to dodge, the best Spider-Girl could hope for was to take the truck head-on. Once she'd been hit by a projectile truck, Spider-Girl rolled over, moving herself to the side of the truck and using it as a springboard to close the rest of the distance to the hostage, scooping him up from his precarious perch before running up to the building's roof as fast as she could, setting him down on solid ground. "Sorry I can't take you down from here, but I've got a maniac trying to kill me. Call the police or fire department or something; they'll get you down." Next order of business: the truck. Spider-Girl perched herself on the edge of the roof, shooting out a pair of webs from her arms across the street to the building opposite her. Once those were connected, she disconnected the webs from her web shooters, and secured them onto the roof she was standing on. Then she repeated the process as many times as time would allow for, before the truck started coming back down. Once the vehicle came into sight, two things immediately registered in Spider-Girl's mind. One: The truck. Two: The familiar sensation of her spider sense alerting her that Venom was coming, and fast. New plan. Spider-Girl leapt off the roof, shooting herself through the air and landing on top of the truck. On the way, she made a point to check through the windshield for any occupants. Nobody was inside, and the driver's side door was open, meaning whoever was driving had managed to get out before Venom threw the thing. Good. Naturally, once Spider-Girl landed, Venom wasn't far behind. The latter landed with such force that the webs beneath the truck gave in faster than they would have otherwise, and the truck began to fall again. Something Spider-Girl already knew she'd have to deal with. Spider-Girl planted her feet and one hand firmly on top of the truck to stick to it, and with the other, shot a web line to the closest building. She was not looking forward to this next part. The impact of the truck hitting an entire building was enough to shake Venom off, giving Spider-Girl a precious moment to reinforce her web line, slowing her descent until she was able to set the truck down on the sidewalk, free of pedestrians who had since vacated its landing zone. It was a strain both on her web shooter and her arms, but a sigh of relief escaped Spider-Girl's lips when she realized she'd done it. But fans and other bystanders were of course not the only thing waiting for her down there. Spider-Girl jumped, leapt, climbed, and hopped around, but the distance was closed, and Venom was not somebody she wanted to take a direct hit from. While her spider sense was saving her up until this point, eventually, Spider-Girl's luck ran out. After enough time, she found herself in Venom's clutches, the villain holding Spider-Girl up by her wrist, keeping her at arm's length to prevent her from striking back effectively. "We finally caught you. Now, we are going to kill you - slowly - and then we are going to eat you so that nothing is left, and then we are going to destroy Alchemax." Venom's grip began to tighten. Spider-Girl could hear the cracking and creaking of one of her injectors getting crushed and eventually broken in Venom's grip, and the bioarmor began to crawl its way up Spider-Girl's arm, constricting everything it was able to wrap itself around. Spider-Girl began looking around for something, anything to get her out of this bind. The bioarmor had taken her arm entirely, and was making its way around to her neck and ribs. Then she saw it. Unsuspecting, red salvation! A fire hydrant. Spider-Girl took a deep breath, and with her free hand, she shot out one last web line of desperation, catching the hydrant by one of its valves, and subsequently ripping it off. The resulting blast stream of water knocked Venom off their feet, washed the chemical bioarmor clean off of Spider-Girl's own suit, and forced the dangerous chemical lifeform that was Venom to retreat into the body of its host as the combatants rolled and crawled out of the hydrant's aquatic assault. "Not the spa day I suggested, but you sure look better after a good rinsing," Spider-Girl said, shaking her arm to get the blood flowing normally again once she was back on her feet. "You think this is over?" Venom taunted. "We'll dry off, and we'll hunt you down, again and again. You can't escape us, Spider-Girl. We'll chase you to the ends of the earth if we must." "Sure will, champ." As she dismissed Venom's threats, Spider-Girl hopped over the stream of water to get closer to Venom, lifting them up and putting them against the wall, before spraying them down with webbing to keep them stuck in place. "We both know you'll just break out of whatever prison they put you in, so just stand there for a while and think about your actions. I'm getting out of here before the press shows up. See ya!" "You aren't going anywhere without us!" Venom shouted, struggling with all of their might to break free of the web Spider-Girl had ensnared them in. Alas, without the might of the symbiote, they were but a normal person, and escape was impossible. As Spider-Girl continued to leave, it was all Venom could think to do to continue trying to provoke the hero. "This is an underhanded tactic that a hero should not resort to! You haven't won anything yet! Get back here! Spider-Girl! Fight us, you coward! You... you're already gone, aren't you?" In Eden's throat, the feeling of a large, moving lump could be felt, before the head of the symbiote stuck itself out of Eden's body through her mouth. "Cutting us free," it said, lowering its head down to dig its rows of dagger-like teeth into the webs holding them in place, essentially eating its way to freedom before retracting back into Eden's body. We have lost once again. "That's fine. No matter how many times we lose, we only need to win once. We're going home, I guess." HOME SWEET HOME After a long day of heroics mixed with keeping up with her job at the Bugle, there was nothing quite like going home. Once she got her Bugle job, Joanna insisted on moving out to live on her own, and found a one-bedroom apartment before long. The place was cheap and certainly not something to be proud of, but it was well within her budget, and the landlord was a pretty good guy, too. She easily could've gotten a new place by now, but by the time that was on the table, Joanna had grown pretty fond of her little home, for better or worse. Plus, the neighbors were interesting people. Door's stuck again. That, however, was her one real complaint. The door. She'd brought it up several times, and by the sound of things, getting it fixed was definitely on the to-do list, but she'd yet to see any signs that it would actually happen. Putting about as much force into it as she would have been able to before becoming Spider-Girl, Joanna gave the door one push after another, until it finally gave way and let her into her own apartment. With a door like that, she probably didn't even need to lock it, but she wasn't about to test that the hard way. Inside the apartment, every sign pointed to the place being decently old, predating the chemtech boom of the 90s and having received no real renovations since. The easiest giveaway was the windows. They were sealed away behind an extra pane of glass now, but the windows themselves were an older type meant to be opened to let in fresh air. Not getting to live in a time where that was a viable option was something Joanna would have regretted, had she any say in when she was born. But it wasn't like she could control that, so moping over it would accomplish less than nothing. Plus, this was her place to relax after another day in the life of Spider-Girl. Joanna tossed the bag hanging from her shoulder onto the couch, opened the refrigerator, and pulled out a box of pizza she'd ordered the other day, grabbing a slice and sitting down without bothering to reheat the pizza. "Pizza time. Finally." As she worked her way through the piece of cold pizza, Joanna opened up the bag and reached inside. Feeling around past her Spider-Girl suit, she grabbed onto what felt like a bent, warped piece of metal, and pulled out the injector Venom had crushed earlier. Based on the look of it, it was - in her untrained opinion - completely fucked. "Damn. Parker's not gonna be happy about that." She'd have to drop by his place tomorrow to get that fixed. If something urgent came up between now and then, she could certainly manage with just one injector, but having both just felt better. The day was just about over though, so Joanna could kick back, eat her cold pizza, and watch some garbage TV programming. News channels were mostly talking about Spider-Girl's actions of the day, which she didn't need a recap on. There was one that mentioned one of Oscorp's lead engineers was getting laid off, but what Oscorp did was frankly none of her business; her beef was purely with Alchemax. Drama channels, nothing interesting. Movie channels, nothing interesting. Comedy channels, nothing new. Joanna chose to go back to the news channel talking about Oscorp; it was a story she wasn't aware of, which by default made it the most interesting thing on TV right now. It was also one of Norman Osborn's very rare press appearances. "Letting go of Doctor Octavius isn't a decision I made lightly. His contributions have been invaluable in seeing Oscorp develop into the chemtech titan it is today. However, over the decades, Oscorp's philosophy on chemtech has changed, and while I still see Otto as a dear friend, and a great man, the distance in ideology between him and Oscorp has only gotten bigger over time." "Mr. Osborn, can we get official word on the rumors that various national governments have denied extensions to the rights for Oscorp's chemtech testing fields!?" "I would like to keep tonight's headline focused on Doctor Octavius." "Mr. Osborn, what is--" "Mr. Osborn, would you--" "Mr. Os--" "Mr. Osborn, Alchemax's CEO Wilson Fisk has openly decried Spider-Girl's acts of vigilantism, does Oscorp hold the same negative view of Spider-Girl?" Joanna leaned in close to the TV for this one. Suddenly, she was invested in this press conference. And based on the time he took to think about an answer, it sounded like Norman was willing to answer this one! Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through her body, and a bizarre, additional sensation she couldn't fully describe. It wasn't anything like an injury. More like... a feeling that she wasn't even there in the first place? And then, a hole appeared above her. Just, a hole, in the air itself. There was no chemtech in the world that could accomplish this, and before she had time to think about it further, she realized the hole was sucking her in. THE PORTAL Joanna tried to push herself back down, but that certainly didn't work. She could feel herself getting pulled up still. Her web shooters weren't even on or she'd use that, but she made certain to close and grab her Spider-Girl bag, stuffing the broken injector in as well for good measure. She reached down to the floor, hoping to stick to it like she would on any other surface. Which worked. For a bit. Soon, however, that too proved ineffective, and there was nothing Joanna could do but be swallowed up by this unknown hole above her. She did, however, manage to grab her pizza on the way out. The non-reheated familiarity of cheese and sauce on refrigerated crust was a small comfort in the extreme unknowns surrounding her. In her mind, the place she'd been flung into looked like outer space, not that she'd ever seen it herself. Moreover, it was as if a giant, infinite web was spread out across the entire... wherever she was. As she fell - though in what direction she couldn't tell - Joanna could see many other sights. Things that simply did not - could not - exist in the world she knew. Worlds of brilliant vibrance, bursting at the seams with color and sound. Worlds of cold, unfeeling steel, where all was machinery. Worlds of stark nothingness, seemingly devoid of anything at all but dry, gray dirt. Worlds of... was that a pig in red spandex? Eventually, the visage of one of these worlds was moving straight toward her. Or rather, she was moving straight toward it. Joanna braced for impact, crashing through the image of the world, and landing... IN ANOTHER WORLD... ...face-first on the pavement. "Oww..." Upon getting up to her feet, Joanna quickly noticed she was outdoors. In a sudden panic, she reached into her bag, grabbing her gas mask... before realizing something very unusual. She'd been breathing before she got up. She was doing it right now. Not choking on a toxic miasma, but... breathing. Like, breathing air. Slowly putting the mask back where it was, she realized more and more about her surroundings. The open feeling that came with not having your visibility cut down by the miasma. The breeze that felt more like a gentle caress from the air, rather than a clammy hand wrapping its gross fingers around her. People just going about their daily lives, without a care in the world. Okay, that last one applied normally too, but the general vibe was completely different! They dressed similar enough, but sometimes, something about somebody's attire just felt slightly off from what Joanna would expect clothes to look like. Plus, a lot of the windows she saw were those old-style windows, like the ones in her apartment. Some were even wide open, letting the surprisingly clean air just go inside. Okay. Calm down, Joanna. Use your context clues. Clean air, blue sky, all that jazz... this must be Latveria. The more she thought about it, the more that made sense. It was famously the last "clean" place in the world, owing to benevolent dictator Victor von Doom's affinity for chemtech simply being on an entirely different league from even the combined forces of Alchemax and Oscorp. At Doom's level of genius, suddenly, some mystery hole that sucks people out of their apartments and drops them in Latveria seemed fairly plausible, if not downright possible. But something bugged her about that conclusion. Latveria's foreign policy. "Nobody gets in. Nobody gets out." Latveria's isolation was infamous for how strict it was, so unless Doom knew Joanna was Spider-Girl, she saw no reason she'd be randomly abducted to this place. And how would he know that? He probably didn't even know Spider-Girl existed. As Joanna turned a corner to try and get some answers from the locals, another thing stood out to very clearly tell her this wasn't Latveria. A towering bronze statue. Dedicated to a man named "Mike Haggar" and the revitalization of a place called Metro City. That certainly didn't sound like a Latverian city name, but more importantly, Mike Haggar was NOT Victor von Doom. While his nation was infamous for its refusal to interact with the outside world, Doom's ego was nothing short of legendary. From what little she knew about the guy, there was no way Doom would raise a memorial to commemorate anyone else, and if one were to be raised without his approval, it would surely be torn down before dinner. So this wasn't Latveria after all. Which begged the question. "Where the hell am I?" As Joanna tried to get her bearings to figure out what this mysterious Metro City place was, a rather average-looking white collar salaryman looked straight at her. And then began to approach her. Quickly. Joanna's spider sense was telling her that this very average salaryman who was approaching her at a full sprint was trouble, but she had been on edge in general ever since that hole opened up in her apartment, so it could have just as easily been general parano-- Suddenly, Joanna found herself instinctively swerving to the left, barely dodging a punch thrown by this guy. AVERAGE DAY IN METRO CITY Okay, this guy's got a lot of anger to let out, apparently. Should probably deal with him. It wasn't really in Joanna's usual agenda to beat up random office workers, but he did start it. And he was clearly out for a fight, hands up and everything. Joanna was willing to humor him, not as Spider-Girl, but plain old Joan Joanna Jameson. It was a good opportunity to dust off her high school boxing experience. Joanna put her own fists up, ready to defend herself. At first, she wasn't sure if this guy was fighting her or some invisible foe in the air, based on his repeated kicking of the space in front of him. Joanna chose to believe his target was her though, as despite his bizarre tactics, his eyes were fixed on her. In high school, she wasn't much of the "bob and weave" type, but being Spider-Girl, that sort of thing came naturally to her. And so, she bobbed and weaved around his attacks, getting into punching range. As she approached, however, her spider sense alerted her to something. But even it didn't seem to be sure what. Probably just nerves. Joanna threw her fist out, hitting the man square in the chest... and stopping in utter shock at he was completely unaffected. Instead of hitting him properly, what appeared to happen was he was somehow immune to her strike, and was now shooting up with a strike of his own, catching Joanna in a rising uppercut attack. At this distance, even with her agility, there was no time to dodge, and Joanna felt herself get knocked off the sidewalk, shot up and away from this extremely normal person, and landed harshly on the pavement once again. What... the hell... just happened? As Joanna got back up to her feet, something unusual happened. The man who had assaulted her threw - of all things - a ball of sand at her. Not only was this extremely underhanded, it wasn't a very effective method of attack. Joanna simply closed her eyes, and was suddenly very surprised as the ball of sand struck her with all the force of a human fist. Physically getting her bearings back from the strike didn't take long, but in the time it took to mentally recover was enough that by the time Joanna opened her eyes, the man was right in front of her again, about to strike her with the same uppercut. Unable to react in time, Joanna was once again shot upward, this time staying down a while longer. Uuugh... wherever I am, I clearly need to be more on guard. Joanna watched the man who had just beaten the shit out of her then went about his day as if nothing had ever happened. Even the crowds that had stopped to watch the one-sided fight simply continued their daily routines, completely unfazed by what they had just witnessed. Joanna didn't get back up until her assailant was out of sight, upon which time she took in her surroundings again, watching for violent maniacs this time. It was definitely a city. Aside from the statue that wasn't of Doom, the only place that really stood out to her was a Japanese restaurant a bit down the street. Cold pizza was tasty, but it wasn't terribly filling. Maybe a good meal would make her feel better. And so, Joanna made her way over there, keeping herself on high alert.

Alois was still particularly annoyed at the cacophony of birds that was around. He was never really a bird kind of person. He was never really any kind of animal person for that matter, and his hometown was hardly helping that. Add to that, the deluge of birds had taken him by surprise so he had briefly stopped paying attention to what could be wrong here. After all, he followed pretty quickly after the maid so she would have to be here, and he didn't realize that the door to this room was still closed fast enough to come to the conclusion that she still had to be here, even if he couldn't see her. As a result he was taken by surprise, again, by the sudden amount of force that was being thrown at him and knocking him to the ground. Hearing the maid above him, Alois couldn't help but let out a, "what?" He had heard of counting sheep but never chasing after them, so he wasn't sure if she was going to but him to sleep, kill him or turn him into some kind of ranch hand. Letting out a sigh, the boy had realized that the position he was in currently and definitely sucked. So he would have to remedy that. After a moment's pause the boy asked, "hey. Are you a bird kind of person?" Before the woman could answer Alois threw his head back, smashing his into hers and allowing him to push himself back up onto his hands and legs. Turning a bit the boy kicked at where he presumed her legs were only to find that she was nowhere to be found. Worried that she might've gone for another diving strike on him, the boy quickly scrambled to a standing upright position and tried to look out for the maid. As his eyes scanned the room, still filled with birds, his searching was cut short as the arm of the woman wrapped around his neck in a chokehold. Taken off guard yet again, Alois's body flailed a bit in panic at the sudden loss of air. As he was able to recognize what was happening, though, his frantic movements turned into more deliberate ones. Having the air choked out of him the boy couldn't make a witty retort, though his mind seemed to think it was a priority to think of one even in this situation, and so instead he just grabbed at her arm. Yanking with all of his strength, he wrenched the woman's arm off of his neck and tossed it down, trying to turn to face the woman while doing so. "Huh... You're stronger than you look." "Yeah and you're a whole lot less hospitable then you look." Tsetseg held onto Cora as the two of them galloped down town. As Cora explained what was likely going on, Tsetseg kept her own eyes and ears more aware, being still on the lookout for any sort of crime that might be being committed. As they continued to race down the streets, something came into view of Tsetseg's eyes. She wasn't able to make out who it was, since they were currently a bit too far away, but they could see someone on horseback. Pointing further down the road the girl exclaimed, "there! Bad guy that way! Way way down that way!" While Cora herself wasn't able to see the figure yet, it would be clear that based on the direction and distance they were traveling that they, and the figure, were heading towards the back gate of the town. After saying that, Tsetseg's ears perked up as she heard something else. A set of hoofbeats. Of course, they were on a horse already so hearing that was natural, and they were chasing after another horse so hearing a second set wasn't out of the ordinary either. But she was positive there was third, and that they were coming from a different direction entirely. "Oh! Oh! Oh! Other horse that way!" The girl pointed towards the intersection that she was sure they were about to meet up with this third horse, so as to warn Cora to not crash into it.

Quinn flinched the moment when Route One Oh Two became the smallest bit wet. It was not enough to keep from carrying on, but she kept thinking about it as it took further and further steps. Quinn was intimately familiar with mud, for reasons they rather kept to hirself. As Route One Oh Two became a full-on bog, Quinn spent more time looking for the safest places to step than zir stated goal of hunting for Pokémon. Cassiopeia had to help with a few of those jumps, putting all her effort into pulling upwards, giving Quinn just a few extra moments of airtime to navigate safely. It did not always work, and every piece of clothing below Quinn’s knee suffered the consequences, but there was still entertainment in the process, so Quinn did not mind. There were wild Pokémon to encounter, of course, and for those, Quinn did faer best to stay in place. Normandie did not seem to mind the environment fighting with her trademark ferocity, and Cassiopeia was unaffected by most terrain in general. The Pokémon that truly caught Quinn’s eye, however, was a Bearble standing stock still and facing away from her as it approached. Quinn recognized it immediately. “Peat? Where is your friend Nathaniel?” Quinn asked. But the Bearble did not respond, still looking ahead and growling under his breath. “Ahead, then? What is he doing without you?” Quinn made a move to continue, but Cassiopeia suddenly jerked its hand back, pulling the rest of the young ghost back with her. “Oh!” Quinn said, in more of shock than actual pain. “What is with you, you silly balloon?” That was when xe heard the whispers. In all likelihood, they had always been there since first stepping into the marsh, but it had taken breaking focus to notice them, and now they were impossible to ignore. The whispers in the back of Quinn’s mind were incomprehensible, but in the sort of way that promised comprehension if one only listened harder. Quinn tried again to approach the statue -- the whispers had to be coming from there, right? -- but Cassiopeia once again refused. “Do you want to go back into your Pokéball?” Quinn asked. That seemed to be an acceptable compromise for Cassiopeia, who practically opened her ball for Quinn as ze took it out. Approaching the statue alone made staying clean a practically impossible task, but Quinn no longer cared. The statue’s aura was awesome in the literal sense, with all the terrifying implications that that implied. It was no wonder that both Cassiopeia and Peat were not interested in such a place. Nathaniel was also there, hesitating just before placing his hand on the edifice. Quinn did likewise but overcame that final mental barrier to find out what the statue felt like. The statue was warm, but not in a way where the rock had absorbed sunlight all morning and was now radiating excess heat, nor was it warm because Quinn’s skin, as a ghost, was naturally cooler. No, it felt warm because it felt like it was alive, an impossibility in itself, but that was what it felt like. Even more, it felt like it was breathing, too. There was a pulse of energy in the statue. Its rhythm was slow, but it was there and it was consistent. Quinn could tap along with it if they didn’t feel compelled to keep his hand on the rock. “Material or Astral, I have never encountered anything like this,” Quinn said, Quinn’s voice soft. The voices in her head got louder, and faster too. And yet, Quinn still could not understand it. “What secrets do you hold?” Quinn mused. Still keeping faer hand touching the rock, Quinn began walking clockwise around the base, searching for more phenomena to experience -- an irregularity in the rock, perhaps, or a change in the statue’s beat.

The most surprising thing about YCMaker embracing the AI art thing is that he was actually around long enough to implement an art theft button. Also hi everyone, I know I have been dead for like 2 years now

OP- 「REALiZE」- LiSA Okay, let's do once more, eh? My name is David Driver, and I am this world's first and original Spider-Rider. Yeah, you heard right, first. My world's different from those other Spider-Man worlds. Probably why that Miguel O'Hara refused to let me in his little gang. Anyways, over 30 years ago, the Evil Eight managed to take over the US Government from behind the scenes. Now we live in a world without choices. Sure, people think they're going to steer right or steer left, but they didn't make the roads. The big choices already got made for them a long time ago. Everything in the end was falling under the Evil Eight's plans. That's where I came in. Thanks to a suit created by two geniuses working with alien technology, I became the Spider-Rider, a fighter for peace and justice! A lot has happened in the twenty years that I have been Spider-Rider. I fought against evil, defeated the Octopus Corps, and I saved the city. Then I saved the city again. And again. And again. I fought so long I became a symbol of peace. And then, after many years, my successor came. The Scarlet-Rider. Finally, I could retire in peace. But life wasn't that simple. The Scarlet-Rider had his adventures, and yet I got called back into action. We saved the city again. And again. Then his successors came. The Ghost-Rider (Not to be confused with Ghost Rider, the hyphen is important) and the Stinger-Rider. Yet still, my battle seems endless. No matter how much I fight, no matter how hard I hit, evil keeps coming back. It keeps getting back up. Nobody said fighting for peace would be easy though. With all the strength I have, I will keep on fighting. Until the day that I am gone. The roar of an engine. The heavy footsteps of a mighty warrior. The streets of Neo York for once was not covered in traffic. Everyone knew not to do such a foolish thing. One of the heads of the Evil Eight, Aleksei Sytsevich the Rhino Ruler, challenged the symbol of peace, Spider-Rider, to a duel. Now the two were racing down a speedway, a high speed race with the highest stakes. The Rhino Ruler's footsteps pounded into the pavement, leaving potholes and cracks in the concrete. "I've been waiting for this for a long time!" The Rhino Ruler snarled as he charged ahead. His massive form blocked out the sun, casting the motorcycle he was chasing into a dark shadow. "Your constant meddling, your constant ruining of my plans!" Spider-Rider turned his head to look back at the mountain of a man. "You make plans?" He asked sincerely, despite the sarcasm laced in his voice. "AND YOUR CRAPPY INSULTS!" Rhino Ruler roared as he pushed himself to move faster, slowly catching up with the motorcycle. "This ends tonight, Spider-Rider!" "You're right, Rhino Ruler. At the end of this day, one shall stand, one shall fall!" Spider-Rider replied with passion. Without warning, the Spider-Rider swerved to the left and shot a webline out at a lamppost to his right nearby. He then slammed on his brakes, creating a line for Rhino Ruler to trip over. A simple trick, but one that worked in the past. With a roar, the Rhino Ruler took a leap into the sky, avoiding the trap entirely. "I ain't going to fall for that a second---" "Fifth!" "---Fifth time!" Rhino Ruler landed on the ground, the earth shaking and the concrete shattering from the impact. He then charged after the Spider-Cycle once more. "Hey, it was worth a shot!" Spider-Rider commented as he leaned down. Quickly and carefully, he fired another web, catching some traffic cones just like bugs. He yanked them up into his hand, inspecting them carefully. He had five shots... he could do this. With that in mind, he turned around and threw one at the Rhino Ruler's face. It slapped the Rhino Ruler right across the face, causing him to cry out in surprise. He wiped it away, only to receive another cone in his face for his worries. "Cut that out!" He roared as he wiped away the second cone. With a quick backhand, he swatted a third cone out of the air. Spider-Rider threw his fourth one, this one completely missing his opponent. Undeterred, he threw his final one. This final cone, this last beacon of hope, found its mark. The cone landed directly on Rhino Ruler's massive horn, covering up the tip of it. "Oh, I got the thing on the thing!" Spider-Rider cheered. "What do I win?!" Spider-Rider could see actual steam blowing out of Rhino Ruler's head as the evil leader's face turned a dark red. "YOU!!!" The villain roared with the anger of a storm. "I win me? ... That's a horrible prize. Can I trade it in for gas money?" Spider-Rider taunted. Turning around, Spider-Rider began to formulate his plan. Now that he got Rhino Ruler angry and tunnel visioned, all he needed to do was make it to the construction site. Then he could lure Rhino into a pit of cement, yadda yadda, same old same old. When was this going to end? When would he actually get that peace he was fighting for? Would it ever come? Spider-Rider was so lost in his thoughts, he didn't notice what was on the road ahead of him. A strange purple glow drew his mind back to reality. What could possibly be making that glow? Oh no. That was a portal. "No, no, no!" Spider-Rider went to hit his brakes, but realized if he stopped, he would just have Rhino Ruler ram his rear end. With no time to think, the Spider-Rider came to one conclusion. He put the pedal to the metal. With a shout of determination, the bike drove straight into the portal. The world around him changed from the city he was familiar with to a great void. It was almost like he was in space, but he knew for a fact space didn't have giant strains of webs connecting together entire dimensions. He held on tightly to his bike, not wanting to get separated from it. If the Spider-Cycle fell into a different dimension, he might actually go crazy trying to get it back. He looked behind him, seeing the Rhino Ruler flailing helplessly in the void. He was sure that the giant rhino man was shouting something, but the Spider-Rider couldn't hear him at all. That in and of itself was a miracle. A bright light suddenly shone, catching Spider-Rider's attention. Looking forward once again, he saw that they were about to collided with one of the many webs that made up the Spider-Verse. Gritting his teeth, Spider-Rider positioned himself for a landing. The two travelers exploded out of a portal in the sky. Below them laid what looked like a very modern city. It wasn't futuristic, it wasn't downtrodden... it was just a city one could find in any average, boring dimension. Looking over his shoulder again, Spider-Rider saw the Rhino Ruler drop like a stone, crashing into what looked like a junk yard of some sort. Meanwhile, the Spider-Cycle was smoothly gliding through the air. However, could see he was about to land on a rooftop. With little choice, Spider-Rider let his wheels spin, his engine roaring with power. The moment he landed on the roof, he fought to stabilize himself, making sure the Spider-Cycle didn't tip over from the impact of the landing. The Spider-Cycle stayed standing and drove off the edge of building. With a quick flick of his wrists, Spider-Rider shot out a webline, the web attaching to the building. With the grace of an acrobat, Spider-Rider managed to land the Spider-Cycle into the road. People all around him turned to look, seeing his amazing feat of strength and dexterity... Only to go back to their own business. It was like that wasn't even impressive to these people! To be fair, it was hardly impressive to him any more. He remembered the first time he pulled that off... now it was just routine to him. Shaking his head, Spider-Rider looked around to get his bearings. He seemed to be in something sort of Times Square equivalent. There were stands lined up offering all kinds of foods, several kinds of shops, and a bunch of civilians walking around without a care in the world. Of course, it obviously wasn't completely peacefully, as he could see people loitering around dark alleyways, looking for all sorts of trouble. The strange thing was, all these loiters were wearing what looked like a CRT TVs on their heads. That had to be some sort of gang thing. The Broadcasters, maybe? He definitely needed to think up of some TV based quips now. As his mind raced, he finally found a sign, one that proudly displayed the name of the city he landed in. Metro City. That was a weird name for Neo York, but he supposed it wasn't his place to judge. More importantly, he knew the Rhino Ruler came along with him. And now he had to find him in this unfamiliar city. "Well, hope you pick me up soon, Miguel." He muttered with a tired sigh as he revved his engine, driving his way deeper into the city. OP's notes

Penelope and Alois "Oh, go an' blow a flabby one, ye pinprick-pinteled wandought," the maid spat crudely. If looks could kill, she'd have speared him through already. Fortunately for Alois, he remained intact and whole. Unfortunately for him, the maid found her second wind shortly after. Fueled by frustration and anger, she used Alois's momentary lapse of attention to her advantage. The woman heaved the fighter off of her and regained her feet. "I ain't 'ave time fer ye two, so I'll jest be on me way. Ye gots yer answers, so leave me be, an' I'll do ye the same." The maid hared out the door, swerving around Penelope, the sudden motion causing a flurry of activity from the pigeons in the dovecote. It would be difficult to follow her through the hail of birds. Gunther, Citron, Raki, and Peaches Luckily for Peaches, with Citron leading the way, and Gunther, Raki, and the villagers helping, the operation went without a hitch. The arrow was out, and the biggest danger had passed. Despite the wyvern's body still being injured, sore, and weak, the sharp pain that had wracked her chest had lessened slightly. All that remained was to wait for recovery. The bandages would need to be changed out for fresh ones every so often, and the wound checked in case infection set in. But that was, at least, familiar territory for most of them. When Citron expressed her gratitude, Thile grinned. "Oh, t'was no problem a'all. Us Phar folks, we git things done." "Right glad I am t'see the wyvern's doin' all right. Wouldn't be right t'see one o'em go. T'would be a bad omen, 'em being so alike to—" Achos wiped his brow. "Aye," Pheodea spoke over him. "I'm sure it would. But for now, we should focus on cleaning up the area." The older woman turned to Raki. "I don't know how you got here, and I don't know what your purpose is, but anybody who would help a creature in need like that is somebody I'm willing to trust. If you do no harm to Phar, then no harm will come to you here neither." The weaver smiled momentarily at him before purposefully turning her back to the Isaurian and barking out orders to the other villagers. "Clean up the area. Any sharp pieces need to be cleaned up, sharpish. Make sure all the blood is gone, or it'll attract flies. Gather up all the cloths." When one of them gave her a sullen look, she shook her head. "Don't look at me! I'm just an old woman! You're lucky my old bones even made it over here." Link, Tsetseg, Cora, and Garinphasia Tsetseg's arrow struck true, and Gaston staggered with a cry like a wounded beast. "Oh, woe is me! Lackaday, for I have been besieged most aggressively by these foul ruffians." A mad glint came into his eyes then. "But ho, there is yet promise." He stumbled forward, angling toward his horse. Were Link or Cora to approach him, he would ignore both. Meanwhile, his horse, still galloping, veered to the side to avoid Garinphasia, running over her tail. Spittle flew from the horse's mouth as it turned, aiming away from the trees and toward open land. Where Gaston stood, arms outstretched, though one of them was bent at an odd angle. "You will cessate now! For your master! You are but a mere beast, and I, a hunter of beasts. I, Lord Pylauses Gaston, commendate you!" When it became apparent the horse would not stop, his brow furrowed, and with his good hand, he grabbed hold of the animal by the neck, forcing it to a stop in front of him. The man laughed wildly. "Yes! Yes! If you shall not acquiesce, then I must bring you to heel. Now, let us go!" Once more, he attempted to get back astride the horse.

“...You should all be able to approach as far as you need to help walk me through this,” Citron spoke, her voice catching in her throat as she knelt by the wyvern’s side. She knew Peaches; she could tell the Wyvern was in pain, and as much as the wyvern would do anything to protect her… As long as she acknowledged them, and didn’t seem worried - and as long as they remained unthreatening - they would be fine. “...But I think I’m the only one she’ll trust to actually do this,” she reaffirmed, doing her best to smile. “After all we wouldn’t want you squandering that good grace you’ve garnered with her, would we, Gunther?” she did her best to smile briefly as she nodded towards him. “...And you’re on thin ice enough with her as well, Raki; so you shouldn't push it,” she turned to nod towards him as well, before returning her attention to the Wyvern in front of her. Her hands were shaky as she knelt down, and began examining the arrow in more detail. Her own chest hurt in a sympathetic fashion, but she pushed the guilt aside as she cleared her throat, and raised the knife. “...Peaches,” she began, speaking softly. “...Grandpa must have done this for you at some point, alright? So I’m going to need you to trust me, when I say; this is going to hurt, but it will save your life. Do you hear me?” she’d ask, using her free hand to lightly pat the Wyvern’s scales. She waited then, for a moment, for a low rumble of ascent to escape the wyvern’s throat; it wasn’t that of a screech, but it was still an acknowledgement. So there was nothing to do, but begin. “...I’m counting on you all,” she’d murmur; using one hand to steady the Wyvern’s scales around the wound, while she held the knife as steadily as she could in the other; Peaches, for her part, staying as still as she could whilst still breathing. Citron listened then, as Raki described the process. Her hands shook, but she was… Careful; slowly tracing a steady line from the side of the bolt, enlarging the entry-wound slightly, and removing a couple of scales in the process. “...We need to enlarge the surface of the wound, slightly, so that we can try to pull the arrow out as safely as possible; for that, we also need to hold it open,” Citron parroted; in her own words as she spoke through each step, taking a small line of fishing-line and a hook from the supplies they had brought, and very carefully holding the hide away from the arrow. “This will allow us to get a better hold on the bolt, and also make sure nothing gets left behind.” As she did so, she carefully swapped from her free hand holding the bandages against the scales, to carefully remove the damaged scales; holding a bandage to the wyvern’s hide with the elbow of her bad-arm as she placed the knife down, and took a pair of sticks brought by the villagers in her good hand. “...Then, prepare the implements by disinfecting them, right? Does, er… Anyone have some honey?” she’d ask, glancing around. To her surprise, while no one did - someone was able to fetch some quickly enough; her heartbeat as an ever-present reminder in her mind that they didn’t have much time. But they were fast enough, and so she continued; taking the jar and carefully coating the two, straight sticks of wood. Her stomach shifted uncomfortably as she hesitated for a moment, before… Slowly, and carefully, inserting the sticks on opposite sides of the arrow, now a possibility due to the hide being pulled apart, and pinch them together against the shaft of the bolt. “And then, with a steady hand, we have to feel for the barbs with the implements, so that you can match the entry-wound,” she explained, trying her best to keep her lunch down as she felt a mixture of blood and wound press in around her fingers as she pressed the sticks further in, until they were interrupted as she felt the sticks pressed something hard; halting their progress. “...And then, you pinch them together, and… have to pull it out,” she swallowed uncomfortably, hesitating for a moment. Peaches, for her part, had been gentle; shaking in the way that any might should they be in pain, but… Never so much as screeching in Citron’s ear-- Even as she pulled the arrow free; sweat beading on her forehead as she took careful measure to match the entry-wound to the best of her capability. It was only as she threw the bolt, now free of its victim, to the ground; that Citron felt as if she could focus, or even hear, again. “...Then, comes dressing the wound!” she yelled; parroting their words, though by this point, she knew what she was doing. Her heartbeat thumped, loudly, in her chest as she balled the bandages up, pressing them as tightly as she could, and made to stuffing them into the wound; blood rising, and mixing with the honey she had already begun applying to the bandages as she stuffed the wound as well as she could with her good hand. it wasn't long until she had lost count of the number of bandages pressed within the wound, the experience of pressing them in until they were soaked with blood becoming an almost endless cycle, but... She found herself focused again whence she had finished that work, and could instead focus on applying vulneraries to the edge of the wound. The hooks were the last to be removed, as she began to bandage the surface of the wound, taking careful care to press the scales back together as well as she could, bandaging the lizard, until… Blood-soaked as her hands, both the good and the bad, were; she was… Done. All that was left was to… Hope it worked. Taking in a deep breath, Citron stood up as she did so, glancing around as she held her hands awkwardly in front of her, still-dripping with a mixture of blood and honey as she did so. “...I… Will have to change her bandages fairly regularly, for a while; and then once a day until it heals,” she’d explain, swallowing nervously, as she did her best to recall the off-handed first-aid she had learned back on the orchard. “But I think, we’re… Past the worst of it,” she explained, hope steady in her voice as she gave a slight bow to not only Raki, Gunther, and Erdick; but also the villagers. “Thank you, for your help, all of you,” she did her best to force a smile to her face as she spoke; even as she scrubbed idly at her bad hand with the good, as if doing so might remove the blood from both of them, rather than smear it further.

There's so much wrong with this post that I don't know where to start. So let's start from the top of the post! So, right out the gate, there's a problem with your proposal. A very serious one. Torm owns the website, and he lives in the UK. So if the website was to cease operations in the UK, its operations as a whole would not be far behind unless he passed ownership to Yemachu and just continued footing the bill himself or something? Seems like a lot of hoop-jumping over what will likely amount to nothing. Furthermore, you flat-out admit you haven't done your own reading and research (you're basing your post off information from YouTube, ffs), and I hate to sound like I'm gatekeeping, but one should never present an issue as prevalent as you're making this one sound without doing their own research first. This sort of thing is exactly how misinformation gets spread around. So I took the time to read the Online Safety Bill's exact wording myself. Neither you nor the YouTube video linked back to anything showing the actual papers, by the by, so I had to do that myself, too. For shame. I'm pretty sure I legally need to clarify at this point that I'm not a lawyer, I've never been to law school, etc, and I've also never set foot in the UK, so someone who meets at least one of those criteria would be a better authority on what all I'm about to say. Not to mention a lot of this referenced other laws/documents but didn't say what was actually written in those. Anyway, assuming I've read all this right, the act does exactly what's written on the tin: Looks over the web and tries to make it less harmful toward children and animals. A noble goal, but that assumes that's all they do with it. Now, being American myself, I live in a country where there's no shortage of laws that also look over the web and what everyone posts on it. That being the case, I can say with full confidence that unless you've been posting content that involves the abuse of children or animals and live in the UK, you shouldn't have anything to worry about. Your belief that this will have a profound impact on NCM is, however, frankly ridiculous. Not only do you need to be thirteen or older to register for this website, with most if not all of its userbase being fairly past twenty already, but NCM is such a small middle-of-nowhere site that's only tangentially related to Yu-Gi-Oh at this point, that anyone looking to make a move on/against this site would have to go out of their way to even know about it in the first place. You basically illustrated in great detail for us the amount of mental gymnastics you had to do to turn this particular molehill into the mountain you did. How, pray tell, would this internet equivalent of a middle-of-nowhere gas station town with exactly five buildings, come to the attention of the UK government, and why would they care if it did? Are you gonna tell them yourself? Have you been posting content that would get their attention? To summarize, your information sounds unreliable, the situation you've outlined is absurd, and your solution would mean shutting down the website as a whole since it's owned, run, and paid for by an Englishman (not Yemachu, who is a coder that does work on the cardmaker and possibly some behind-the-scenes stuff I don't know about). Now, I must again clarify at the end of my post that I'm not in the UK, and have only read the Online Safety Bill in a vacuum. If there's further context or information that I'm missing, I'm very open to that possibility, but based on what I've read both here and there, I could not disagree more with your entire proposal for so many reasons.

Belle walked down the path, step by step. Her feet, clad in orange Running Shoes now, pounded on the dirt road. How long had it been since she had trodden the ground outside like this? She couldn't remember. But she was in no state to dwell on it. Her mind whirled with plans of revenge. Her cousin was powerful, but overconfident. If Belle could get the drop on her, then she might have a chance. She would show Sabrina not to mess with her. If she could just get ahold of pink hair dye… But of course, she would have to get through the Korova region first. Which would be difficult. Each step caused Belle's stomach to lurch and her lungs to heave. If I had known I'd have to walk so much, I'd have tried to get in shape before this. Oh, who am I kidding? I would have just made plans to avoid this situation altogether. It was then that she realized something. The sound of twin footfalls, one energetic, the other feather-light, had disappeared. The girl looked up, only for her eyes to confirm what her ears had picked up for a while now. Belle closed her eyes. Opened them. No, everything was still the same. She was… "Alone," she muttered. Why was that? Did those two tire of her and run ahead? They must have decided that they didn't want her around anymore. She was slow, after all. Gloomy too. Really, it was no wonder nobody liked her. At this moment, Belle forgot her earlier complaint about being stuck with normies. Now she realized that there was something even worse than that. Solitude. Belle clenched her hands in her recently purchased shorts. No, she was being stupid. She was not unfamiliar with loneliness. Hadn't she been alone for most of her life? But this time, her parents weren't here. She didn't have the few friends she had made in Pokémon Unite either. She would even welcome her stuck-up cousin at this point. "Hello?" she called out. "Nate?" she paused, "Quinn? Are you there?" No answer. "H-Hey, I'm sorry I…" slowed you down, "No, whatever. Just come back." No answer. She hadn't known either of those two for very long. Just as long as they had been on that cruise. So why did she care if they left or not? She clenched her fists. "No. I don't care. I don't need them." She took a breath. "I'm fine." And then she looked up, locking eyes with a youngster around her age in the tall grass. Like a pointer dog, he straightened in place, and then bounded across the field. "I'm trying to find more Pokémon. Wait! You look weak! Come on, let's battle!" The blue-haired girl glared at him. "What are you talking about?" Despite herself, the pinched feeling in her chest melted away. "Huh? Don't you know the rules? You lock eyes, and you battle!" The boy bounced back to stand about ten yards away, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. "Come on! Let's go!" "I—Fine. Yeah. Let's fight." The boy released a Rattata, pumping a fist. "Great! Let's go!" Belle took out her own Poké Ball and twisted the top. With a flash of light, a tiny cow with a grassy hide appeared. It turned to look at its trainer, giving a soft low. "How do I do this again?" the girl muttered to herself. "Whoa, cool Pokémon, but we won't let that stop us. Rattata, use Tackle!" "Oh right. It's like a turn-based role-playing game." Belle pointed at the cow. "You," she moved her hand to aim at the charging Rattata. "Use, uh…" She paused. "Crap. I don't know." The cow looked over its shoulder and gave a plaintive moo. In the next second, the Rattata reached its front, lowering its head and slamming into the grass type. The cow flailed its hooves helplessly and fell backward onto the dirt road. "Hey, why aren't you doing anything?" the youngster demanded. "You don't want to fight after all? Belle sighed. "That's not it. I just don't know which moves to use." The boy stared. "You're kidding, right?" He leaned over, holding his sides as he laughed. "What the heck, you're serious?! Okay, look," he pointed a finger. "That red thing sticking out of your backpack. Isn't that a Pokédex?" "This?" the blue-haired girl leaned her arm back to grab what he was talking about. "I think so. A sailor gave it to me when I got this Pokémon." The boy nodded. "Yeah, that's it. I've got one of my own." He dug into his shorts and retrieved a red gadget shaped like an old-fashioned handheld gaming device. "This is mine. Got it all the way from Johto. Yours looks like a Korova-style one. Anyway, point it at your Pokémon. You'll find out what its moves are that way." "Got it." Belle followed his directions. "Huh, it says…" ♂ Poamoo Grazing Pokémon Type: Grass Height: 2'6" Weight: 20 lbs A gentle Pokémon which takes grass in its mouth only to absorb the moisture and is careful to leave the grass unharmed. Name: Poamoo Lv. 5 Original Trainer: Belladonna Morgane ID No. 235536 Current Moves: Tackle, Tail Whip Ability: Overgrow This Pokémon is pretty Docile by nature. You first met one another on the SS Rising Sun. It's capable of taking hits! "Yeah, so whatever moves it lists, those are the moves it knows." The youngster nodded sagely. "You ready then?" "Huh." Belle studied the Pokédex for a second longer and then stashed it away in her pack. "Yeah." "All right, it's time to go! Rattata, use Quick Attack!" "Use Tackle, Poamoo." The cow attempted to move, but before he could, the Rattata had knocked him off his feet again. "Too slow! You have to do better than that. Rattata, use Quick Attack again!" "Huh, looks like Pokémon battles are tougher than I thought. Poamoo, turn around and use Tail Whip." "Moo," the cow lowed and slowly turned around, tail swishing in the air. When the Rattata arrived, it received a face full of bristles. "Now, use Tackle backward!" Belle shouted. In her excitement, she completely forgot her exhaustion. The cow dug his front hooves into the ground, lifting his haunches and slamming backward into his opponent. "What?! I've never seen a Tackle used that way before…" the youngster muttered. Belle smirked. "Guess I'm just full of surprises." "But that won't be enough to take us down. Rattata, use Hyper Fang!" "What?!" The rat nodded and raised its head, incisors glowing white over the Poamoo's behind. And then it bit down. "Moo-OO!" The cow let out a pained cry and collapsed on its side. "Yes!" Belle's opponent grinned and held up two fingers in a peace sign. "We win! Go Rattata! I knew you were top percentage." "I… lost," the blue-haired girl blinked. At that moment, all of her fatigue came flooding back. She yawned. "Oh well. Win some, lose some. Return—" "Hey, wait," the boy interrupted. "I'll patch up your Pokémon. Got some Revives on hand in case Rattata goes down during training. It's a bit of a walk back to New Point Landing, and you don't want to miss your friends, right?" He crouched down next to the Poamoo. "… Okay. And what are you talking about?" Belle approached the boy and collapsed on her butt beside him, leaning her head into her arms and yawning. The boy's Rattata nosed into her side, sniffing inquisitively. "Your friends. The ones you came with. They went off into the grass. One of them said something about exploring, and the other got ambushed by a Rattata and then walked into the grass. You didn't know?" He took out a small diamond-shaped medicine that he placed into the Poamoo's mouth. "… No. I did not," the girl grumbled, waving off the rat. Nate and Quinn didn't leave after all. They just went to catch Pokémon. I should've known. Guess I just lost my head back there. Good thing they weren't around for that, or that would have been really embarrassing. She breathed a sigh of relief. Not that I'm happy to have those normies around. I'm just glad that I didn't make a fool of myself. That's all. The boy massaged the cow's throat, causing him to swallow. "That makes sense. I was wondering why you were calling out like that earlier. Turns out you had your head in the clouds!" He laughed, but continued before she could say anything. "Well, you weren't too bad for a cloudy Swablu. You surprised me once you actually started battling." "Really? Huh," In her distraction, Belle did not guard her pocket, and the Rattata scooted forward and bit off a chunk of granola bar. The Poamoo twitched and rose to its hooves weakly. "Yeah, you'll do okay." the boy spritzed a Potion and rubbed it into the cow's coat before climbing back on his feet as well. "Look. Good as new. Hey," he turned to Belle and held out a hand. "My name's Joey. What's yours?" Belle did not take the hand, placing her own hands over her pocket defensively. "Belle. And get your rat off of me!" Joey laughed. "Sure, sure. Rattata, come on." He whistled. The rat turned to Joey, munching on granola happily. "Return!" The Rattata never lost its smug look, even as it glowed red and returned to its Poké Ball. "Hey, do you have a Pokégear? If you do, let's exchange phone numbers." With the rodent menace gone, the girl relaxed. "Nope." "Too bad," the boy sighed. "Well, maybe I'll see you around. I'm training here in the Korova region, too." "Maybe," Belle said. Then, when the other turned to leave, she cleared her throat. "Hey. For earlier. Uh, thanks," she mumbled out the last word awkwardly. "No problem! That was a great battle." With a wave, Joey ran back into the tall grass. Belle fell onto her back on the dirt road. "What a weirdo." Her mouth twitched into a smile. "He didn't take my money, either. Guess he really did just want to battle." She flopped onto her side, facing her Pokémon. "Hey, you. Go stand right there," she gestured weakly. With a low moo, the cow obliged, blocking the sun from hitting his trainer's face. "Thanks'a bunch," the girl's words slurred from exhaustion. "Should name y'something too. Maybe Moo. You sure moo a lot." "Moo." "Yeah. Like that." "Moo." "Exactly." Belle closed her eyes. "Wake me up… when… s'time to go home." OOC: This time, I didn't post a couple hundred words while low on sleep. Woo! Go me.

Clobber was acting weird, which was in-character for him, sure, but that didn’t make it any less stare-worthy, the way he shuffled around and turned away like he was embarrassed to do a perfectly normal task. He had some weird jab about fruit farming that Z. didn’t quite follow -- even if they had been a farmer, what would be the problem with that? -- but maybe that was his plan to get Z. to move on to something more interesting. It didn’t work, or rather, it did work in that Z. moved on, but not for that reason. No, even before Ears the Noibat lunged forward at the broken coconut, Z. was already cringing and moving away. It was the shrill scream she’d let out that did it. It was basically a dog whistle, and not the online kind Z. could seize upon and call out, so they could only be miserable about it the usual way. They dropped their coconut piece and said, “Hey, warn people maybe next time you want to do that, huh? I was just getting used to having voices in my head that aren’t mine, don’t gotta exacerbate the headache by throwing in a tornado siren.” Thankfully, other people were breaking away from Jirachi at this point, leaving more people to go bother instead. Hector first went over to the river to look at himself more than he already could with six sets of eyes lying about, then to get a drink of water, before finally coming over to offer to do something with the coconut water instead, but it was the wrong thing. Like, it hit an off-key note in Z.’s brain even if they couldn’t place the whole tune, just component parts. It wasn’t like they weren’t going to call Hector out on it, though, even with the little information they could scrounge up. “Yeah? You got an emulsifier on you? Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” Maybe they had mentioned cooking on the forum, then. Well, they remembered that information, at least, so a cooking topic seemed most likely. If there was a cooking topic, Z. felt like Hector would have been on it, so they refrained from further calling Hector a cooking poser. Instead, they said, “If you want to cook something, we’ll need a fire, and maybe an oven if we can find some stone or clay or something. Walk with me and help me carry the stuff for that.” Hector turned to face Z. when they spoke. It took a moment for the troop to rotate for all of them to be facing the right direction, but when they all had, six sets of eyes settled on them. “I didn’t promise to make chicken curry. I just said that I could,” he said through the Brass. All six of the little orbs swelled up when Z. suggested gathering the supplies. “I would love to help gather the stuff to build an oven. It would be great to cook for everyone,” he said. Then he paused and glanced toward Jirachi. “Probably shouldn't be running off yet though. He sent me a weird… mind… message thing while he was answering questions. Think he wants us all to gather up before he tells us something important.” Again with the mind stuff. But Z. couldn’t help but look quizzical, tilting their head to the side as Hector explained his reluctance. “He literally said we have half a day though? And yeah, building an oven's hard but we don't need to finish it until after we get back. If it’s so important, he can tell us whenever he wants.” They flexed their front paws. “If there's one thing these things are good for, I bet it’s digging pits.” One of the troopers turned back to stare at the mist approaching the shore. “Well, he said the Mist would be here in half a day. But I thought there was more he wanted to tell us before that, right?” Hector said through the Brass, who was still staring at Z. “I figured it was a quick break to grab a drink and a bite to eat before we got down to business.” Z. felt their eyes nearly bulge out of their skull. Leave it to a moderator to make up their own personal rules and try and get everyone else to follow them. It was enough to get them to slip up a little bit and reveal some ulterior motives. “Then help me carry food for most of these people then,” Z. snapped. “God, do you want me to give you a proper ‘you’re welcome’ or not?” Hector laughed. It tinny noise that rippled from trooper to trooper and caused their heads to bobble out of sync. It was almost bad, like, Ears’ ear noise, if it weren’t also on the softer end. “Sorry, sorry. You're right,” he said (reiterating what Z. already knew). “I’m sure he can wait a few minutes while we grab some things. We deserve the break.” The troop formed into a single file line with the Brass at the front. “Lead the way, Captain.” “God,” Z. said again, again containing themself first at the laughter at their expense and then the absolutely comical conga line performance this was becoming. The “Captain” thing didn't help much. Stifling it all still meant it came out as a light cough, though. “Okay.” They went further inland a little ways, just going upstream. Despite the outburst, the “You’re welcome” was not entirely forthcoming. Every so often, they would point out a fruit tree that could be interesting, some of them even fruits unrecognizable to both of them, and both Z. and Hector would shake and/or physically attack the tree to get at its precious bounty. Hector handled most of the carrying, what with technically being six Hectors and all, but Z. did nestle some of the smaller fruit into their fur similar to how they had the Oran Berry back in the Mystery Dungeon. Eventually, though… “You’re welcome,” Z. said. “I didn’t do it for you specifically, so you didn’t even need to thank me, but you’re welcome. I also didn’t thank you for correcting that actual child about me, so there you go, you get one of those for free too.” They stopped in their tracks, looking at the latest flora discovery directly in front of them. “Oh, you've got to be fucking kidding me,” they said. “It’s a date palm.” Hector did what looked like a shrug but the gesture was not very clear when all six members of the troop were ladened with fruit and supplies. “Thanks anyways. I appreciate it. And don’t sweat it about Cross, I think he just didn’t understand. Patience goes a long way in my experience,” he said. The troop stopped marching when Z. did, managing to stop before walking into them this time. “Oh, man,” Hector said, the troop shaking with laughter again. It was a much deeper belly sort of laugh this time. “Lucky day for Clobber, huh?” he managed after a moment. “We got him a date.” Z. didn't fight the laugh this time. It was practically a cackle. “He’s a little dingus, isn’t he? One thing I’ll give him is he has the decency to chew with his mouth closed, but imagine being embarrassed to eat in front of people. Any idea who he's supposed to be in real life?” “Not really,” Hector said, quieting down a little bit. “You probably noticed but I wasn’t exactly active the last few years. Might not want us to know considering he hasn't mentioned his username at all.” “Mm,” Z. said, nodding. “I guess. I can think of some really embarrassing people for him to be, and I will absolutely give him shit for it if it turns out he was indeed as much a goober then as he is now. But Ears has been like that too, and she seems cooler than that.” Hector walked over and used his shield-hand to scoop a date up and toss it up onto the shield of one of the troopers. “Plenty of people are cool now that weren’t fifteen years ago,” he said. “I was a pretty cringy twelve-year-old when I first joined, but I like to think I’m an alright twenty-seven-year-old.” Z. laughed again, but didn’t correct him. “That’s true,” they said. “I have some baggage myself, don’t I? And that's even ignoring what Zeta Channel eventually became. Naw, my problem is it’s a cringy thing to do now. I don't know. I don’t want to say it’s a matter of trust or anything stupid like that because you don't need to know someone’s entire life story to know they have your back, and I certainly have bigger trust issues right now, but it still feels like they're withholding something, and that’s not not meaningful, you know? We’ll see.” Hector tried to shrug again. “I get that. I don't mind so much, mostly because I don't think any of the real weirdos from the site got plucked up, but it would be nice to know who they are.” “Oh, that’s true,” Z. said. “The real weirdos. God, could you imagine? I think I would strangle Summer if I saw him in real life.” They tried to get a few more dates but found themself running out of available space. They looked at Hector going around scooping things up with his shields. “Actually, hold still,” they said. Hector did so, and Z. made a quick loop around the six Falinks, checking and double-checking each of them in turn. “Now just, like, walk? Move around a bit?” After that was done too, Z. un-nestled their fruit, concentrated as hard as they could on what they had just seen, and threw themselves into the air in a sick backflip. What came back down was a pretty decent copy of Hector, all things considered. The troopers weren’t going to move from their spot behind the brass, Z. knew that even before trying it, but still. “There,” they said, scooping up the fruit again. “Now it at least looks like I’m carrying more than I am. Should be enough to head back now, huh?” Hector shook one of his heads. “You’re getting the hang of that whole copycat thing pretty fast,” he said. “I’m only just now starting to get the hang of this whole six-in-one thing I've got going on.” He hefted the weight he was carrying, hoisted as they were atop his shields like little platters. “Should be good to go. Think we've got a pretty decent haul.” “Cool,” Z. said. “And hey, at least you get to practice just by, you know, being. And I’ve still got a long way to go too. But I’m not going to stop until I get there. Imperfection I can fix like that is just not something I can abide by.” One final laugh. “I guess if you can’t sort yourself out alone, I’ll be there to make sure you do. For now, let’s go back.”

Hector's eyes met Jirachi's, and it felt like looking into the dizzying expanse of space. The legendary said nothing, but the Falinks heard a voice going, "not yet," inside his head. It was the sort of voice that is not actually a voice at all, but a feeling hatched in the head. A thought not quite put into words. So when the psychic type answered Es instead, it was with none of the usual awkwardness that comes with being ignored. Instead, it was as if Hector were back home waiting his turn in line at the gas station. "By special, do you mean, uh, special attackers? Or do you mean Special special? I can't say for sure on the first, but for the second, no, they're normal Pokémon like you and me. Except none of us are really normal, huh?" The mythical thought for a moment. "Since I'm a genius, and you all are actually human beings (or so my intuition tells me). So you could say they're more normal than any of us! ♪" He waved his arms in emphasis. Jirachi then turned to Chester. "Well, I actually cleansed that place earlier, and the Pokémon there were all normal mystery dungeon Pokémon. So maybe you're immune, but maybe you aren't. I wouldn't risk it, myself. But speaking of cleansing, that's what happened! I wished to restore the world back to the way it used to be. But I'm too weak." He smiled with a touch of self-deprecation. "My power could only cleanse this small island and the edges of the mainland where you originally arrived. It took a lot out of me, too. If I use too much of my powers, I fall asleep, just like what happened while you all were in the mystery dungeon." He giggled with some embarrassment before addressing Marv. "But I'm a lot better than I used to be. It's true that in the past I only stayed awake for one week every thousand years, but stuff happened, and I've gotten better at that. Even after using all my wishes, I can stay up for a looong time now." Jirachi floated higher into the air until he rose above the trees. When he spoke next, it was in their heads. "On the subject of time, there isn't a lot left. My power originally covered a wider expanse. But every second, the Endless Mist gains ground, and now only this island is protected. If you look out at the sea, you can see it approaching even now." He pointed with a pale arm toward the shoreline. — The three at the edge of the island found that the coconut pieces were rich and filling, but not as crunchy or sweet as they remembered. After all, most processed coconut from our world is grated, toasted, and mixed with sugar. And, contrary to popular belief, coconuts do not contain milk inside, only water. But this being a mature coconut, there was very little of that either. Still, it had a nutty and refreshing flavor. More coconuts hung from the surrounding trees—young green ones and mature brown ones. And the island had more than just coconuts. Bushes and trees laden with ripe fruit and berries suffused the green inland areas with a fragrant perfume. But the wind blowing off the ocean waves carried a distinct aroma. If you have seen the sea before, you would recognize it immediately. But if you have not, then imagine a heady cocktail of greenery, salt, and tangy sulfur, all with a fishy overtone. Separate, they are ordinary, but together they produce a briny scent that is unforgettable. The sea itself I won't describe, having already gone over that earlier. What was important was the edge of the sea. The boundary where the ripples and waves blended into one thin line meeting the sky. There, a grayish smudge stained the horizon, as if an amateur had taken a dirty eraser to a sketch and made it worse off for it. If any of the three glanced at the blemish more than once, they would find that each time, it grew bigger than before. But it was so gradual that it was hard to tell, and it looked as if their eyes were playing tricks on them. — Jirachi fluttered back down to the ground. "The Mist won't be here for a while, at least. By my calculations, it'll be… about half a day. Enough time to rest and grab food. Some of you have found out already, but this island is full of goodies! And the stream over there has a lot of cool, clean water, too." The Pokémon twirled in the air. "There's more I want to say, and I haven't answered all the questions either, but I want you all together for that, so I'll hold off for now. Let's meet up back here when you're ready! ♪" He paused, voice growing serious again. "And... for those of you who have decided to help... Thank you. I mean it." After that, Jirachi would grab an apple and eat it while waiting for the others to finish, cheeks bulging like a Morpeko's. OOC: All right! Got a lot of questions answered, and now you all have time to do whatever on this island for a bit before we get back to plot stuff. Let me know if you need information for your posts. Your characters are free to bum around, get a drink, grab food, whatever. I won't worry about "rounds" so much for this part, so feel free to post multiple times (or not) depending on what your character is doing. I might not post at all during this part since Jirachi will just be chilling in one spot for the most part. Exceptions are if you need me to write out a short post with description or if your character chooses to interact with Jirachi. Also tried out a new style of writing for this post. I'm thinking I might do more like it for this RP, specifically, since it seems to fit the genre. Let me know if it's jarring in any way, though.

Penelope and Alois At the end of the hall, there stood a door much like the other doors in the house—sturdy elm of a paler hue than the stout oak so often used for doors in Galtea. Here at least was something very Histian in a house decorated in the style of Penelope's home country. Through the door, the girl would hear the flapping of wings and the cry of birds. Were she to open it, the sight that greeted her, while certainly exciting, was not at all surprising for the tactician. With the feathers swirling in the air, it almost looked like a scene from a play. Alois and a familiar brunette woman faced each other on opposite sides of the room, chests heaving for breath. Both bore reddened marks on their body, the fighter on his neck and the woman on her forehead. Penelope would recognize the other as Dille, the maid from before. She appeared to have transformed into an entirely different person. In the kitchen, she had stared at the floor, shoes tucked underneath the apron on her maid's dress, and her hair wrapped in a prim net. Now she leaned forward with both legs wide apart in an upside-down U shape, apron and dress tied up with the hairnet on one side for ease of movement. Dille glanced at Penelope. "Tsk, another uninvited guest. It's obvious y'all ain't ne'er learned yer manners, barging into m'lord's house like this." The maid rushed toward the tactician like a wildcat. "But I'll escort ye out!" Gunther, Edrick, Citron, and Raki When Gunther arrived at the stable, he saw no horses, but a familiar wyvern on the ground, Edrick, Citron, and Raki surrounding her. An arrow stuck out of her chest. Most people would realize the seriousness of the situation right away. If not because of the blood seeping from the wound, then at least from everything else. Peaches lay still with closed eyes. Citron shook her head, teardrops flying from her face. Raki held a knife in his hand, explaining something in a low voice. Edrick, who appeared significantly more disoriented and scuffed up than Gunther had seen him last, held up multiple knives of his own. Things were looking grim. At this moment, multiple villagers leaned out of their windows or opened their doors, alerted by the noise. One of them, Thile, the woman whose stall Citron had repaired earlier that day, gasped in fright. "Shit. Tha' winged lizard looks bad. I'm gonna grab some bandages. Be right back!" She hopped back down the road toward her house. Her actions broke the others back from their daze. A fat shopkeeper with long curly hair and clothes covered in rooster feathers brought several vulneraries and a couple of concoctions. "I don't know if this'll help, but here," he held them out to the group. "I run a shop selling medicines like this. That wyvern… it looks scary, but it's an animal all the same." He fidgeted. "I was an animal recently myself, so I'd like to help." "Same here," Thile muttered, arms laden with bandages. "An', er, ye helped me repair mah stall, so's this is just makin' things square, is all." Achos, the bulky lumberjack that had assisted with the rebuilding, stared at the arrow. "Aye, ah'm sure I 'cognize tha' arrer too. It's from that bastard, Gaston," he growled. "I knew 'twas bad all along. Let us know if'n ye need help wiv anythin'. I can do any heavy liftin'." He flexed his muscles. The other villagers murmured their agreement, rolling up their sleeves with expressions of determination. Link, Tsetseg, Cora, and Garinphasia Ahead of Link, the road split into a T-intersection. Gaston had gone left, but from the right came the clip-clop of hoofbeats. The horse heard them, too, pricking his ears and veering left to avoid crashing into them. Soon enough, the mercenary would see three cavaliers, two of them he recognized—Cora and Acantha. Cora carried a familiar-looking archer with her. The two-toned girl pointed at the intersection with excitement, keeping her balance even with one hand. For Tsetseg and Cora, they could see a side road approaching, and from it emerged a magnificent-looking silver bay destrier. Atop it rode a familiar figure in green, looking far more comfortable atop a horse than he had on two feet. His face was wild and a fierce light shone in his eyes, much like the warriors of Locris when the wrath of battle was upon them. With Tsetseg's warning and the horse's hearing, the group avoided an accident, now racing alongside each other. It became apparent that Link would outstrip the rest in no time. While the militia had fine horses compared to most villagers, they had still repurposed them from farm horses. They were not pedigreed equines bred for riding into battle like the one Link took from Gaston. "Didn't take you for a horseman. So you finally decided to join the party, huh? Took you long enough," Acantha quipped, returning to her formal speech from before. Behind her, Phai bit her lip, directing her horse to the right to avoid drawing near to the ferocious-looking mercenary. The group, with Link at the front, arrived at Phar's back gate. Gaston had already gone through, plowing through the fields and stirring up the sheep in his haste. The nobleman's destination was clear: the forest at the edge of the village. The forest that many had already gone through: Licorice, Gunther, Sienna, Tsetseg, Phai, Raki, and Timmy. There, Garinphasia rested, awaiting orders from Raki. The wyvern would hear hoofbeats, and see a large man on horseback carrying a bow in one hand headed straight for her. Behind him, he had strapped a large sack to the back of the horse. The man hadn't noticed Garinphasia yet, but he would soon enough if he continued.

Hanging from the bent antenna with one hand, a figure silhouetted by the setting sun looked down upon Old New York City. The building was once known as the Empire State Building, but the city was now the center of an entirely different, not to mention more sinister, empire. Politicians and penny-pinchers all replaced with cold, unfeeling steel. And at the top of it all, the Uru Overlord himself, Ultron. The silhouette scoffed. Today was gonna be a bad day for the Big Bithead. Releasing his grip, the figure fell down into the shadows between buildings. Goblin on the Streets Spider-Goblin plummeted through the air, breathing in the city. His eyes were closed, but he could feel the city around him, he knew it by heart. The Building Formerly Known as Avengers Tower was less than two miles away, but Oren knew that the surface would be crawling with drones. As much as he’d like to just swing down 5th Avenue, it wasn’t an option. Oren had almost reached the ground when he felt the ZAP on his left - “Cyber-sense is buzzing…” Extending an arm outward, two tethers fired from the knuckles on his glove, embedding themselves in a long-since stripped flagpole. The tethers released almost instantaneously, reeling themselves back into Spider-Goblin’s glove, but the touch and go contact was just enough to alter his downward trajectory. Just in time to avoid the sight of a quadcopter, as Oren disappeared behind the long since deactivated body of a Sentry robot that was slumped against a building. Spider-Goblin didn’t touch the ground as he used his tether-shooter to swing down through an entrance into the subway. Oren hated the subway, but it was the best way to get through town. While he could probably sneak past the drones by carefully crawling, Mason was very clear that the “gizmo” had to be at the drop site in time for pickup. And time was something Oren didn’t have. Reaching into his bag, Oren pulled out a folded metal contraption, tossing it out in front of him. Rather than hit the ground, it hovered in place, making use of a repulsor array on its underside. With a hop, Spider-Goblin mounted the glider, and began rocketing off through the tunnel. Fortunately, much of the original wiring still lined the tunnels, and enough of these wires were live that Oren’s cyber-sense could guide him once he had gone far enough that his vision gave out. The lenses of his mask were equipped with night vision, but the infrared light involved would be just as visible to Ultron’s drones as it would be to him. No worries Osborn, you’re not a kid anymore. You got over your fear of the dark weeks ago. Navigating in the pitch black, Oren traced the city streets in his head until he could feel it. He was underneath The Building Formerly Known as Avengers Tower. Even after the metalhead put that huge “U” on it, the rebrand never really stuck. Opening his bag, his spider glider folded itself up once again and returned to its designated place, as Oren righted himself to stand upside-down from the ceiling. He could feel just how tightly packed all the tech above was. This was Ultron’s treasure trove, full of the most valuable and advanced devices he has acquired in his conquest of Earth. Fitting to be keeping it in the center of what was once his enemy’s headquarters. Fitting, and stupid. Arrogant son of a glitch would have smelted it all away if he knew what was good for him. Oren could take what he wanted, use it to upgrade his suit and glider. But he couldn’t afford that kind of risk. The tinkerer back in the encampment needed that goober, and Spider-Goblin was the only one who could retrieve it. “Let’s go. In and out. 20 seconds heist.” Tossing another item, a steel ball, from his pack up onto the ceiling, it stuck in place, glowing bright blue through seams within. After a few seconds, it rolled around in a circle about a meter wide, and with a crackling light it cut through the ceiling, and floor above, allowing it to drop through to the ground of the subway tunnel as a neat disc, the only hint at Spider-Goblin’s infiltration being a wince-inducing crash of concrete against steel rails. Regardless of his nervousness, Oren knew he didn’t have much time to work with, and hopped up through his spider-hole into the vault. It was full of gadgets and weapons Oren had only heard rumors about, ranging from an ancient-looking hammer with a severed, orange skinned hand still clinging to it, to a dozen or so intact Iron Man suits of armor. Despite all these wonders, Oren was sent here to retrieve a small box, perhaps the size one would expect to keep jewelry in. His cyber-sense made the circuitry within easy enough to detect, and he found his quarry placed nicely upon a small pedestal. He stepped gingerly toward the box, making sure not to trip any pressure sensors in the floor. After a deep breath, Oren picked up the goober, and stood still, fully expecting some form of unseen alarm to be tripped. After a five-second eternity, Oren shrugged, turning around and taking a step back toward his escape tunnel. With luck befitting Peter Parker himself, it was then that the alarm went off, a siren that Oren could tell was audible even as far as outside. “Shock.” Spider in the Sheets “SPIDERRRRRRRRR” With his cyber-sense practically overloaded in this room so packed full of tech, Spider-Goblin’s regular old spider-sense momentarily failed him. Crashing through an adjacent wall came the hulking form of Rhino, colliding with Oren and sending him straight through a wall, directly out into Columbus Circle, gaudy central statue of Ultron and all. “Aren’t I shocking lucky? I get to prance around with Ultron’s pet unicorn!” Scrambling to his feet, Spider-Goblin pulled a small metal device from his pack and threw it at Rhino. The device separated into eight pieces in mid-air, all connected by wire to form a web-like net. As it blanketed over Rhino, a powerful electric pulse surged through it, visible arcing against the villain’s armor. Of course, such a tool only served to tickle Rhino, as he tore it off with a laugh. “Foolish Spider, I am no unicorn! I am the RHINO!” Once again, he charged toward Oren, this time pointing his horn forward with intent to skewer the hero. “Yeah, yeah, I know Aleksei. Guess the enhancements from your boss didn’t include boosted brainpower?” As Oren desperately clutched the goober in his left arm, he pointed his right fist toward the rubble left behind from his dramatic exit. All four tethers fired out, latching onto a gauntlet from one of the suits of Iron Man armor that had been knocked apart in the tussle. Retracting it, the gauntlet fit right above his glove. Alright, Osborn. Spider power plus repulsor power, hope that’s enough… Sliding low beneath Rhino’s fast-approaching horn, Spider-Goblin sprung up from the ground, and using the rear-facing repulsors in the gauntlet for extra force, threw an uppercut haymaker right at Rhino’s jaw. “Here, maybe this will knock some sense into you!” The punch landed solidly, and even with the Rhino’s adamantium-infused skeleton it was enough to ring true and knock him out for the count, as the lumbering brute stumbled backward and collapsed. Oren stood up, passing the goober to his fancy new armored hand, and began to dust himself off, “One of these days I’m going to be lucky enough to be able to run an evening errand without having to risk life and liZARD!!!” Spider-Goblin dropped back and performed a backward somersault, as the jagged form of what was once Dr Curtis Connors dove over him. Kicking up with both feet, he launched the Lizard into the unconscious Russian cyborg nearby, but had to do a double-take as Lizard scrambled back to his feet and immediately flickered out of visibility. “Invisibility? Wasn’t the whole chameleon thing someone else’s gimmick, Dr. Connors?” Before Oren could use his cyber-sense to track down the hiding reptilian villain, he felt the typical buzz that meant danger was incoming. Hopping up to his feet, Oren was greeted with a stream of acid that burned an inch-deep hole in the concrete where he lay a split second ago. “Hey, Mac. Cheese not able to make it tonight?” Seemingly unwilling to engage with the hero’s attempt at humor, Scorpion jumped down from his perch above, charging toward Oren. Scorpion’s first attack was with his tail, naturally, but Oren tossed the goober up into the air and deflected the blow with the palm of his unarmored hand. Scorpion took a wild enraged swing at Spider-Goblin with his enlarged claw, which Oren ducked under. “Hey Scorpion, wanna see a cool party trick?” “Eh??” Spider-Goblin placed his armored palm against Scorpion’s chest. “Boop.” Activating the repulsor, Oren launched Scorpion back and into the statue of Ultron, satisfyingly managing to knock it down. “On second thought, hold the cheese. Looks like you’re plenty grilled already.” Taking a half-step backward, Oren pulled a pumpkin bomb out of his pack as the Lizard’s elongated tongue zipped past him, before sticking the explosive onto its tip on the way back, “Your entree, doctor,” Spider-Goblin made a showy bow as the tongue retracted from whence it came, catching the falling goober in his hand. He paid no mind to the following explosion. The Lizard was probably fine, Ultron liked fixing his dolls whenever they ended up breaking. Oren hardly had a chance to catch his breath before a multitude of caped fishbowl-wearing lunatics flickered into existence around him. While holograms wouldn’t normally be a concern for Spider-Goblin, Shi’ar hard light technology made them considerably more threatening. One Mysterio to Rule Them All floated above them about fifty feet up. “Bow before the wonder of my MYSTIC DUPLICATION!” Oren raised an eyebrow so hard that it managed to be visible through body language alone, “Come the shock on man, you know you’re not magic, I know you’re not magic, you know I know you’re not magic.” With a wince, Oren’s own body flickered slightly as a second one of himself stepped from the position of the first. “Tell you what, how about we match that with a bit of quantum duplication!” The duplicate cupped both of his hands, as the Oren who carried the goober hopped up, locking his heel within his own superpositioned palms. With a single concerted effort of jumping and throwing, Oren launched himself up into the air. “Show’s over Mysterio,” performing a mid-air frontflip, Oren brought his heal down onto Mysterio’s domed head with a heavy axe kick. “time for you to bow out!” Before Oren could reacquire his bearing and attempt to swing away, he was plucked out of the sky by a man in an enormous flight rig. Vulture’s mechanical claws held Oren tightly as the pair ascended through the air, up above the city skyline into open air. “Thanks for picking me up, Toomes, I’m headed over to Midtown. You can just let me off once we get in the neighborhood, I don’t want the meter to run too long.” The old man in the bird costume responded with nothing but a metallic snarl, when Oren felt his spider-sense clawing at the back of his mind, the screech of what could be a lethal blow. Wrenching his unarmored hand free from the Vulture’s claw, he fired his tethers into the far end of the left wing, yanking it inward just in time to block a large steel bolt fired from the arm of Kraven, who was posted upon a rooftop below. Oren could see Kraven beginning to reload for another shot, but the first bolt struck a vital part of Vulture’s flight harness, resulting in the pair entering what was quickly becoming a death spiral. Oren could see the drop point for the goober in the distance - the antenna from which he scouted out this heist - but he knew he couldn’t afford to make any mistakes. Kicking off with both legs, Spider-Goblin pushed his way out of the Vulture’s remaining claw, suddenly finding himself in freefall with nothing to swing from. Pulling out his spider-glider, he tossed it below him, allowing it to unfold as his feet latched into place. With one last profane gesture back at Kraven and the Vulture, Spider-Goblin rocketed off toward the drop point. It was at that moment that some kind of weird thing happened. It would be fair to say that weird things happened to Spider-Goblin a lot, but this was real weird. An enormous bubbling black hole appeared in the sky above Old New York City right in front of Oren’s flight path. Even though he veered away, he could feel it sucking him in. Oren could see the drop point, with the tinker-built drone ready to receive the goober, but the longer he revved the engine on his glider, the further he slid back into that black hole. “Sorry Mason, looks like you’re gonna have to figure out the rest without your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Goblin.” Removing the red and gold gauntlet from his right hand, he placed the goober within it grip, set the repulsors to max thrust, and released it toward the drop point. Cutting the power to his glider, Oren Osborn was pulled… INTO THE SPIDER-VERSE When Nate Richards explained the idea of the Chronal Abductor to Oren, he had a retrospectively fitting model he used to describe the intricacies of a time stream. As events occur, as chaos theory does its thing and produces unexpected results, branching paths are created. Things become more complicated when it is considered that in some realities, time itself is different. While it may be 2014 in one world, it could be 2099 in another, and yet both worlds coexist. The connective tissue of the multiverse goes in every direction, sticking together anything that has, is, or could happen in an extraordinary Web of Life and Destiny. And now Oren found himself plummeting through this web, at alarming speed. He attempted to use the repulsor engine of his glider to course correct, but whatever had pulled him in seemed to do so with more of a plan than he felt particularly comfortable with. TWOING!! Oren's shoulder knocked against one of the threads of this bizarre web, and for a split second Oren could swear he heard echoes of Vaudeville music - not that he'd have any chance of recognizing it as such. A wing of his glider hit another thread, causing him to go into an uncontrolled spin while a roar like that of a 100-meter tall Japanese lizard echoed through every atom of his body, a shriek of confused interpretation of nuclear allegories. Afraid he would lose track of it in the chaos, Oren snapped his fingers, signaling for the glider to fold up and return to its place in his pack. Despite Spider-Goblin's best attempt at smooth travels, he had several more collisions on the way to his unintended destination, catching glimpses of spider-people ranging from an orange-haired woman in skating gear to a cartoon cat, but before he had a chance to make any sense of these visions he was jettisoned through a portal not unlike the one that had sucked him in only seconds earlier. Oren was in freefall, coming down toward a city that he had never been to before. It wasn't too far from home, but he could tell everything here was a little… wrong by the sensibilities he had acquired over his last twenty-two years. Redeploying his glider, he perched atop it and looked down upon this strange, wrong world. “So this must be Jersey, eh?”

Dearest Mother and Father, By the time you read this, the SS Rising Sun will have arrived at New Point Landing of the Korova region, and my grand excursion will have properly begun. I do have to thank you again for your care package. I have already made great use of the stain remover, and the contents of the little pill bottle have proven very helpful in adapting my corporeal form to the ocean waves. Cassiopeia enjoyed the candy you packed for her as well. I worry you spoil her even more than I do! I tried to find you in my dreams last night, were you looking for me? I could not find you, and you have my apologies for that. I could not help but return to the more abstract and dreadful regions of the astral plane. I have described to you before, I am sure, the various dangers I have encountered, but what struck me this time was the utter lack of sound. It was a deafening silence, the kind that can strip away the ego and leave nothing behind but an empty shell. When I returned to the material world, I had to spend several minutes lying motionless just listening to the water crash against the boat before my wits returned to me. I do not mean to make you worry, though. I am handling it well. You will be pleased to learn that I have already made new friends who are also undertaking adventures of their own. I met each of them individually, and it turned out by fortuitous happenstance that they had already acquainted themselves with each other! My encounter with Nathaniel was so marvelous the margins of this letter are too narrow to contain it, but I will describe my meeting with Belladonna as you may find it entertaining. Cassiopeia and I were wandering one of the decks of the ship. It was midday, but the clouds had just parted after a particularly violent storm, so there was hardly anyone else around. The crew had only just put the chairs back out. We were looking out at the horizon and experiencing the sublime vastness of the ocean beneath our feet when we noticed the body of a woman lying in one of those chairs. I thought she was dead! I thought the storm had proven so exhausting for her that she had either left for new worlds or joined me in the interstice between them. I poked her. I had to. My curiosity would not allow me otherwise. My cheeks flush just recalling the moment, because, of course, she was not, even if she said she wished she was in that moment. Thankfully, we are already past the point of grudges and on to what I suspect will be gentle ribbings where appropriate. I am sure someday I will have similar gaffs to make about their behavior too. The horn has just sounded announcing our arrival at the docks, and Cassiopeia is looking at me with an antsy expression on her face. I will have more for you soon, but I must be going now, first to find my companions, then to a mailbox, and then, adventure! Sending love, even in death, QuinnQuinn looked over their letter with quite a sense of satisfaction over how it had all turned out. The way he saw it, people either had very good handwriting or very poor, with no in-between, and Quinn was proud to be of the former category. “See? All done,” she said, showing the letter to Cassiopeia. Either the Drifloon could read or she made a very strong impression of doing so, and gave off a happy sort of hum when she had finished regardless of which it was. “I knew you would approve,” Quinn said. “Come now, we really must be going. All right, then. Now, just to double-check…” They made one final loop around their cabin, making sure they had everything a good ghost needed to go on a Pokémon adventure (or at least everything that they had packed to take along with them. All the clothes had been cleaned, toiletries were all put away, ze had either stowed or put on any personal effects… it all seemed just so. Once hir pens had been put away, the only things left loose in the cabin were the letter and Cassiopeia herself. “Would you like to be in your ball?” Quinn asked, “Or would you- Oh!” Cassiopeia had refused, instead nuzzling right up to Quinn and looping her strings around its wrist. “I was only asking in case it was windy, you silly balloon. We do not want a repeat of two days ago.” Again, Cassiopeia made a noise and rubbed her face on Quinn’s. “Alright, you win,” Quinn said. “But we really must be going.” Their cabin was pretty far away from the gangplank, which made Quinn worry that they might be keeping the rest of the group waiting, though that turned out not to be the case. Quinn and Cassie stood just off to the side, scanning everyone else coming off, looking for the two familiar people on the whole ship, listening to the dockmaster give a welcome to each and every passenger with the same laugh every time. Fortunately, it was not windy, even if that meant Cassiopeia got to float around all vindicated and full of herself. It was quite a while before Belladonna and Nathaniel stumbled off the ship, and Quinn rushed over to meet them as soon as she spotted them. “My friends!” she said. “Hello! I just have to purchase some stamps and a few other supplies and then-” For the second time that day, though, they were interrupted, as Belle broke from Nathaniel’s shoulder and collapsed onto the dock. She had seen this before, of course. In fact, Quinn remembered doing similar things when they were alive. Sometimes, when you did not want to do something, the only recourse was to not do anything. But that would not do for Quinn. They did not just go through the effort of making new friends and explaining their condition to them enough times until they accepted it, just to abandon them as soon as they were off the boat. Quinn could not help himself. While Nathaniel desperately tried to tempt Belladonna with lemonade, Quinn kneeled down next to her and, for the second time this trip, gave her a good poke in the arm.

Riding bareback was nothing like riding with a saddle. It was a skill most often found amongst the commonfolk; Link had never met a noble who could do it. It required great balance, a lot of experience, and a total disregard for personal safety. He could still hear Ilia’s father yelling directions at him, even so many years later. “Keep yer knees tight. Lean forward, if yer gonna gallop. Not that much! Ye’ll mess with her balance pressing on her neck like that. …That’s the trick! Look at ya go! Yer a natural!” It proved to be a muscle memory. Shifting his hips until the horse seemed comfortable, seated more forward than was traditional if he had been using a saddle. The mechanics behind it were hard-wired into his brain. The same could not be said for the actual muscles—muscles rarely used in day-to-day life—that the act required. Link ignored the pain and pressed his heels into the horse’s haunches. It barely seemed to take notice. It was so large and layered with muscle that the soldier was certain that his own weight was negligible to it. The village raced around him in a blur of colors. The wind buffeted his face and ripped his hat off his head, blowing his blonde hair back. Gaston whipped around to shout something that Link couldn’t make out. He glared at the man but said nothing in return. His burning anger had been cooled into smoldering embers of hate; he was no longer consumed by his outrage, and instead let it serve as fuel to push the engine that was his body past the point of breaking. Link’s grip tightened on the hilt of his sword in preparation. He was gaining. Both horses were incredibly fast, but his horse was faster, and carried a lot less weight. Two bitter enemies united under one banner for the first time in many years that day. Death normally took pleasure in tormenting the former soldier—reminding him of their frequent collaborations—but in that moment, it hugged him like an old friend. It could be seen in his eyes when he focused on Gaston, and in his face, dark and stormy as a slate cut from a storm cloud, and even in the wind that blew his hair, framing his face like the wild mane of the great cats Gaston hunted. Death nipped at the heels of Pylauses Gaston, its scythe of choice a soldier too gentle for war. No one could outrun it forever.

"Goodbye home, and hello to a new region!" The girl stood at the stern of the ship, foot on the railing holding onto her hat so as to not have it blown off by a sea breeze for the fourth time during this journey. "Now I know what you're wondering, Rus, why look back now when the beginning is right in front of us?" The Lepash, that had been standing a healthy distance from the railing, had no such thoughts and seemed to be tired of the constant speeches she had similarly been dolling out for the past two weeks. "It's obvious, right? Since from here on out we'll only be facing forward! This is the last time to have fond reminiscence of what brought us here before starting our adventure! See she's got the right idea of it," Jacklyn pointed to a blue haired girl who had been keeled over the railing of the ship, and without being able to actually see her expression Jacklyn took it to mean that she was having a great time experiencing all the marvels of large boat travel. Jacklyn then looked out onto the horizon for approximately five seconds before she had said, "well that's enough of that. Come on Rus!" Rus had nothing to reminisce about. If anything it was actually returning home rather than going anywhere new and unexplored. Of course this was entirely missed by her trainer as she ran ahead. Rus started to chase after her, only to stop for a moment as a man passed him, holding a pokemon he could've sworn was familiar before remembering that his trainer was moving to the front of the ship. One to make a competition of everything and a sore loser, the Lepash broke into a sprint keeping up with its trainer until they got to the bridge connecting the ship to the land. With all the people crowding up to get off the boat, Jacklyn picked up Rus saying, "don't want you to get lost. And here you go Rus, look! A new town! A new region!" To her. "Ooooh man, I can't wait!" The Lepash was growing less comfortable with this, already disliking the idea of being carried around, as Jacklyn's excitement started to cause her to wave her arms around with the fire type still in them. Once off the boat, the girl made an emphatic jump onto the first land of the port saying, "wooooohoooo! We're here! It's really real!" Giddily chuckling to herself, as the fire type squirmed in her hands the girl said, "oh right. Here you should do this too. Hup!" The girl lowered her arms and let go of the Lepash, who let out an annoyed grunt, and seemed thankful that experience was over with. After a moment, the girl spotted her other teammates saying, "oh, look, there they are! Let's go Rus." The Lepash turned its head to the side and scoffed for a moment, eliciting a frown from the girl before she remembered, "right, you don't get along with that Shinx very well, huh? Oh, well...That won't do! We've all gotta be pals since we're adventuring together, I think. But I'll let you sit out so you don't get lost in town and you two can have a chat about uh...pokemon things, later." The Lepash rolled its eyes before being called back to its pokeball. Running to meet up with the others, she waved enthusiastically saying, "heeeey guys!" Once with them, she heard Anima's suggestion and smiled, pointing emphatically at her. "I like the way you think! We're going to be out there. In the wilderness braving the uh, wild! No beds, or houses or running water. Just us and the desert sand! Or dirt or something. So we'll need supplies. Plus who knows what kind of souvenirs and knick knacks you can find here? Now, if I were a good place to shop where would I be." Jacklyn had no idea where to start. In fact, now that she was up close she was starting to realize just how small all the buildings here were compared to her home and how different, even still just being a port city, it all felt. Her excitement began to burst forth again as she just said, "ah whatever, let's just go look around and see if we can find anything."

At the back end of the ship, or "the stern" as those savvy with nautical jargon would know, stood another girl. Except standing was not quite the right word. She leaned over the side of the railing, much like Anneliese had at the bow. But her eyes were not on the horizon, nor was her mind on the coming journey. No, it preoccupied itself with a separate journey. The journey of her partially digested meal, all the way from her stomach to over the side of the ship. After that journey ran its course, the girl stared miserably at the waves below. "The internet lied to me," she muttered. "Being outside is supposed to help with seasickness, but I still feel sicker than a Snubbull." This person was Belladonna, but only when she was in trouble. For all other times, she was Belle. And unlike some trainers on the ship, she did not have a Pokémon by her side. Her new starter was tucked safely inside its Poké Ball, which itself was tucked safely inside a pocket of her dark blue sweatpants. They were baggy, though a little tight around the waist, matching the puffiness of her navy-and-white sweatshirt, now stained with dried vomit. Her outfit was not one meant for the outdoors. She had first worn it days ago in blissful ignorance. Believing her day would comprise the usual tasks of mopping the floors and finding trainers lost in the mess of warp tiles the Saffron Gym was known for. Belle wiped her mouth and groaned. With her mood about as low as it could get, it got worse, and then better, when the cruise ship slowed to a halt. Worse, because she almost fell backward onto the deck from inertia. Better, because the ship stopped moving. Which meant her stomach could stop imitating the Whirl Islands for a change. The girl sank to her knees, head lowered, till her ultramarine hair pooled on the waxed wooden tiles of the ship's deck. "Ugh." Several minutes passed before she moved. In fact, she would've stayed put, but for the kind person who lifted her to her feet and helped her off the cruise ship. She gave them a tired thumbs up when they reached the dock. By the time Belle got off the ship, most, if not all of, the other new trainers had already greeted the dockmaster. At his enthusiastic reception, the girl raised her head from its near-constant droop. Sunken yellow eyes set into a face like congealed milk sent him a thousand-yard stare—or a teenager's best approximation. "Somehow," she rasped, "I doubt that." Belle hobbled past the man. Several times, her knees gave way and almost sent her into the drink. "Still got my sea legs," she muttered. After far too many paces (but was in fact just a couple dozen), the girl finally gave up and crumpled onto the dock face-down. "Wake me up when it's time to go home," she muttered, mouth pressed into a gap in the slats. Note: The "kind person" could be anybody. Feel free to have your character help Belle off the ship if you want. Otherwise, it'll be one of the ship's crew.

…Things sure had been moving fast. To be honest, though, she knew she should have expected that from an adventure such as this, and so she had at least managed to steel herself. This had allowed her great alacrity when it came to making her way onto the ship, and as far into the ship as she could manage; resolving to spend as much of her time in-doors as she could, for the time being. This meant that even now, she was still inside, in her room, as they neared their destination “...Even still, from in here, the waves sound… Almost nice, don’t they, Confi?” she murmured to seemingly no one in particular, before lifting the small rock that had been in her hands up in front of her face, and tilting her head. In response, two pink eyes crept open, gazing dully at her, before a small, almost wistful “...Cor…? La...So...” rang out; one that she felt more than heard, before nodding. “...I know…” Anima trailed off, sighing. “...He’ll never let us hear the end of it if we don’t head back out there to keep an eye on her,” she agreed with her Pokémon, giving her an almost apologetic look as she placed the Pokémon down on the foot of her bed, and finished packing her things into her bag before slinging it over her shoulder. “...So… Let’s get on with it,” she smiled, holding out a hand, and allowing the small, white Pokémon to trot onto her palm; transferring the Ghost-type to her bag as soon as the Pokémon had made it onto her hand, so that she could peer out from the darkness with her piercing Pink eyes. “...Just… Try to be more careful who you… Er… Threaten, okay?” she chuckled, as she slid open the door to her room, and began to trace her way back towards the deck. She felt bad, at least a little, scolding her quiet Pokémon, but it was only fair given that’s how they had gotten into this mess, after all. Even now, she couldn’t help but feel mildly proud of Confi for standing up for her. Even if it was a mistake, and even if both she and her new friend had been at fault for the sudden meeting (and impact, as they literally ran-into each other), the undead-coral Pokémon had wasted no time in skulking out from the darkness to look at the other woman's Pokémon in a way that she no-doubt had thought intimidating... Only to get scared away as the small Lion held their ground, looking at any moment ready to fight. Of course, Anima had had no flights of fancy that Confi had actually managed to intimidate her self-made opponent, especially given how much she had been shaking, and so in the end she and her soon-to-be-friend Anelleise had ended up having to calm their respective Pokémon down themselves, but... it was the thought that counted, she reasoned; she just hoped that- “Cor…” Anima blinked, as she came to a sudden stop for a moment, as the wistful ring of her Pokémon in her ears brought her back to reality; and she narrowly dodged the wall she had just about walked straight into. “Ah…Aha, right,” she murmured, deflating slightly. “Sorry,” she rubbed the back of her head, pausing for a moment, before she resumed her trek of the maze-like ship… --- In the event, she had only just made it out to the deck as the crew had begun rounding everyone up to be ushered off and onto the docks; which was, by her account, remarkably good timing. This allowed her to get off the boat as soon as possible, which was a concept she would hardly give up under any circumstances. Even as her group had made their way off the ship, she had made sure that when they stopped moving, she had put at least a few other groups (as well as her group-mates) between her and the docks; just in case. It didn’t do completely ease the gnawing feeling in the pit of her stomach, but it certainly didn’t hurt. Distractions also never failed to hurt; and so the boisterous greeting of the Dockmaster was welcome as she gave a quick, agreeable nod. Even as she opened her mouth to speak and thank the Dockmaster, one of her assigned traveling companions, Anneliese, spoke first, proclaiming him to be a ‘delightful man’. Unsure of just how to add onto this, she just sort of smiled as she turned to look at Anneliese, and decided to instead acknowledge the girl’s question. “I… Um… Hope I’m not speaking out of turn here,” she began, glancing between the two of them. “But we should… Probably stock-up on any supplies we may need for the next leg of our journey-- And find anything about it out that we can,” she’d counsel, bringing a hand up to her chin. “Of, course, it’s a group decision though, so… I'll, uh... Leave the final decision to you...” she trailed off, absentmindedly bringing a hand to rest on her bag’s strap, as she glanced between her companions.

Penelope and Gunther With everything going on outside, the kitchen itself seemed too still. Like an eye in the center of a great storm. No noise stirred the mansion but the soft sounds of Hanikap’s murmurs from the next room over. “Never shoulda got caught up in all this. What would me dear Ma say now if’n she could see this?” And then, above their heads, nearer to the parlor exit, Penelope and Gunther both would hear the startled coos of pigeons. A familiar voice accompanied the cries with a shout, “Who has this many birds?!” Alois One could forgive the fighter for letting his guard down. After all, birds—doves and pigeons both—filled the dovecote. It would be difficult to make out much of anything in the flurry of wings and round bodies. From the sheer number of birds, the flapping of their wings alone generated enough noise to surprise most people. But combined with the screeching, it produced an overwhelming cacophony. It would not be surprising if the noise reached the people outside or downstairs, even. Amidst the hail of feathers, a shadow dropped on the boy, sending him crashing to the floor. “Sorry, but I don’t much like being chased,” a low voice whispered in his ear. “Don’t worry, I’ll have you chasing after sheep soon enough.” Edrick, Citron, and Raki Edrick, Citron, Peaches, and Raki could also hear the ruckus in the dovecote above, though it would be harder to make out over the sounds of the outside and Peaches’s pained roaring. The arrow had buried itself grievously close to the wyvern’s heart. Had Gaston a little more time and a little less urgency, Peaches would be dead. As it was, the wound lay a little closer to the center of the wyvern’s chest, and so she could still count herself among the living. The Isaurians at the scene would know that the weak points of a wyvern were their wings and soft underbelly. Wyvern riders dreaded archers for this reason. A well-aimed shot could take a wyvern out of commission forever. The belly scales had furrowed up like a small hill around the wound. To those unfamiliar with battle, it would have seemed innocuous. A mere stick poking into the chest. Barely any blood. But below the surface, bits of wood splintered off, creating slivers resting amidst dark blood and pale flesh. The arrowhead itself remained intact, but it had ruptured a blood vessel. To remove the arrow now, without taking proper steps, would be a fatal mistake. Link It did not take long for Pylauses to realize he was being chased. The man turned back once and cursed. “Damn you, fellow!” he shouted. “Can you not at least have the common sensitude to know when to capitulate?!” He lashed the reins against the horse’s neck. It whinnied but increased its pace to a gallop. The ride carried Link through the streets of Phar. In the dusky twilight, the village houses shone in only two colors—sunset gold or a brown so dark it seemed black. The sun glared directly into the mercenary's eyes as it set behind the village wall. Few villagers ventured outside at this hour. The scant few that remained disappeared at the sound of hoofbeats, till the streets were empty of all but dust. This road would be familiar to the mercenary. Hours earlier, he had walked this same path, following Alois’s mother Mene to her house. But rather than a pleasant stroll, he now raced to catch up to Pylauses Gaston. Ciela At the front of the mansion, a single horse and rider had been resting near the food trough Gaston had laid out for his horses. Miraculously, the rider had remained asleep through the earlier commotion. But considering the extent of her injuries, perhaps it was not so surprising, Were she to wake now, she would feel much more rested than before. And much more herself. Tsetseg and Cora Acantha snorted, “Of course, ya get on her horse.” However, despite her words, the girl didn’t look like she minded. “Come on! Let’s go! You said Pylauses’s house, right? In that case, we need to head this way.” The redhead took the group down the main road leading toward the back gate. They hadn’t gone far when Phai caught up to them on a dark blue roan. “I’m here, I’m here!” she cried out with relief. “I’m sorry, it took a while, and I uh, well, ye don’t need to hear the details, I guess.” The girl wilted under her cousin’s annoyed glare. “Humph, well, as long as you’re here, it don’t matter, I guess,” Acantha sighed, voice slipping into the same drawl as the other villagers. As if she had tacitly accepted Tsetseg as trustworthy. "Let's go." However, the redhead stopped the group before they could even walk fifty paces. “Hold, there’s something ahead.” Now that she had pointed it out, the rest of the group would hear hoofbeats in the distance. But they were not the slow clops associated with a walk, nor the clip-clop of a trot, nor even the three-beat sounds in a canter. No. Instead, they could hear the four-beat patter of a gallop. Somebody was racing recklessly through the village on horseback. Horses weren’t supposed to go much faster than a walk in the village proper. “Do ya think that could be the militia?” Phai asked. “But… ain’t that a mite dangerous?”

As it happened, faced with what looked like an impossible feat of strength on the part of the man they were chasing, the man who it seemed for all the world was kidnapping their friend, Edrick had decided to try the impossible himself. How many times had this group of theirs overcome nonsense beyond nonsense in order to achieve some kind of victory here? If this bastard was strong enough to throw a wyvern, why couldn't he be strong enough to catch her? He owed Peaches that much at least, she was hurt worse than he was or at least he believed she was. He could do this. He could help- And then he received two important reminders. The first was that the people around him cared about him, delivered in the form of Link diving on him from behind and taking him to the ground before he could be smashed by several hundred pounds of flying lizard. The second was that he was hurt... a whole lot worse than he was giving himself credit for. Oh he could hear his mother and sister chiding him now about going off and trying to get into another fight when he should have been resting and letting one of them heal him! So while Link got up off his back he spent a few more moments there laying facedown in the dirt, dazed from the pain and meekly bleeding in the street while he tried to remember how to move. An assortment of noises and voices helped wake him from this temporary stupor he'd found himself in, and while the world spun around him he slowly got up to his hands and knees, bright blonde hair already dirty again from the day's excitement and starting to look a little closer to that black it had been when the others met. Come to think of it, Penelope still hadn't tried to get him to properly wash it yet. Advantages of getting hurt, he thought as he waited until the ground stopped spinning before his eyes and he could make out voices properly again. “You’ve done so well-- You just… I just need you to stop, and stay still. I need you to be okay.” That was Citron... and it didn't sound like Peaches was doing all that well. He could... maybe help tend to her again after this, but there were other things that needed- "She's a wyvern, she'll handle it." That was the new boy... Raju? Raykee? One of those, he couldn't remember right now. But that boy also had a Wyvern... and now he had an idea on how he could help continue the fight. He wasn't catching a horse on foot, he'd tried that for years now and had plenty of proof that wouldn't work, but if he was flying? "H-hey," he managed to all but cough out as he made his way towards the two riders, one arm clutching at his freshly re-bloodied chest and the other holding the lance he'd been using to keep himself up, "I don't think I can help here, and I can't catch Gaston on foot, so... can one of you fly me after him and drop me like a rock on his horse?"

THE VOID A PLAY IN ONE ACT CHARACTERS IN THE PLAY Z. C-ko Moderators of Yanma’s Custom Monsters forum Girls of the Chorus THE VOID was originally performed at the Kashira Shadow Playhouse as part of the PMDUOS event on the evening of June 2, 2023. SCENE Z. is alone on an empty stage. Z.: Oh, what fresh hell is this? Is this even allowed? Fuck, you would think I’d have been granted the decency of being free from extra bullshit at this point. Okay, no, I would have accepted one of two things happening when I fell asleep: The dungeon bullshit would have been all a dream and I’d just wake up to a normal life, or my subconscious would pull from memories my conscious mind could not, and I could get desperate flashes of another me that doesn’t exist anymore. But this is neither. I’m still a Zorua, though. Fuck me. [They move to the front of the stage] Hey, anyone watching this? No? Typical. Stage lights dim, save a lone spotlight center stage, where Z. was just standing. Z. (turning around): No. [The spotlight reluctantly moves to where Z. is now. Z. turns back around] (Sound Cue #1) Z.: I guess I do remember some things. It’s dumb forum drama, because of course it is, but a forum update made YCM’s mod forum available to the general user base. It got fixed, but basically, any sort of gossip anyone could get their hands on got posted to the miscellaneous forum. The posters got banned and the threads were deleted pretty quickly, but some people’s download buttons were even faster. The voices of the YCM MODERATORS recount their posts from offstage Moderator 1: Oh my God would Zeta just shut up? Moderator 2: Decides they're a they now and makes it their whole personality lmao Moderator 1: Not even that just like... I’ll dock them for calling Summer a bitch ass-cunt or whatever and that’ll put them on their best behavior for a bit but then the warning points go away and they’re back on their bullshit again. Moderator 3: Summer is a bitch ass-cunt to be fair Moderator 1: That’s besides the point.[trails off] Z.: That was a fun two weeks. It all got derailed into some bullshit about mod transparency that went nowhere, and I never got an apology or anything, but I wasn’t really asking for one. The point was, for a hot second there, everyone was on my side. And the thing about people being on your side, they tend to question you a lot less. (Sound Cue #2) The spotlight dims to a barely-noticeable circle on the floor and the back wall of the stage is illuminated. Z.: What now? (Sound Cue #3) The shadow of C-KO appears crossing the back wall from right to left and back again. She is carrying a gramophone. C-ko: Extra! Extra! The CHORUS is represented by more shadows cast on the back wall in the shape of accusatory finger-pointing. C-KO no longer has her gramophone, and her clothing shifts as the accusations continue. This would make sense in, like, a shooting script instead of a stageplay but technically this is neither -- it’s a dream sequence -- so you figure it out. Chorus Girl 1: Aha! You’ve got fox paws for hands. You’re not human, you’re a foxgirl! C-ko: Nope! I’m a human! These are just gloves -- it’s getting kind of cold. Chorus Girl 2: Aha! You’ve got hooves for feet. You’re not human, you’re a horsegirl! C-ko: I see why you’d think that, but these are just very fashionable shoes. They’re all the rage in Paris. Chorus Girl 3: Aha! You’ve got rabbit ears. You’re not human, you’re a bunnygirl! C-ko: No! No! These are just, uh, wearable antennae for my phone so I can get better reception. I promise I’m human! Z: Why do you want to be human so badly? C-ko: [screams] CURTAIN After a dream that felt like it could have lasted either five minutes or nine months, Z. woke up in an entirely new place with no sign of the conflict that had rendered them comatose in the first place. On the one hand, they were glad to not be fighting anymore, especially with the embarrassing showing that had gotten them put to sleep in the first place, but, on the other hand, that Cleffa had something coming to them, and Z. wanted to be the one to do it. There was a zero percent chance that they were ever going to see that particular Cleffa ever again, so their frustration was entirely empty, which really made it all even worse. Their Oran Berry was missing too, a crime that had too many mundane explanations (it fell out somewhere, someone needed it in an emergency, that fucking Cleffa took it) to really blame anyone currently present, so that only compounded everything. “Fuck,” Z. said for want of anything else to say. Almost everyone else was crowding some other Pokémon that was sleeping nearby. Z. couldn’t remember the exact specifics, but they were pretty sure that most anyone would be mad if they woke up to a sudden horde of people clamoring for attention, especially if one of those people looked like he was six people. It was a Jirachi too, so it had the power to back that anger up. Even Es the Rotom had gone over to pester the thing, and Z. had been pretty sure that if any of them were going to wait for them to wake up and cheer when it happened, it was her. Z. huffed and pulled themself to their feet. It felt incredibly natural to do that downward-facing dog to upward-facing dog yoga stretch thing, but it felt weird that it felt natural, if that made sense. Like, it made sense that it felt normal, but- “It doesn’t really matter,” Z. said. It was kind of to that and the previous thought wrapped all into one. Of all the humans-turned-Pokémon, Ears the Noibat had the right idea. If the Jirachi was going to be helpful, it was going to be helpful regardless of whether it was being pestered with an extra meaningless question. Of course, Ears was better at getting a view from higher up, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t do the same thing, but on the ground. “I’m going this way,” Z. said, pointing in the opposite direction the Noibat was looking.

Chester had Hi'd his last "yah" as he successfully punched the Cleffa, only to be immediately be interrupted by something of an incredible wind storm. The phenomena defied all forms of logic that the Chespin was aware of, and to make matters worse he felt an incredible sense of dread as he was picked up by the wind. Not the regular kind that any normal person would feel being violently rag dolled by a spontaneous raging gale. No this was something more instinctual. Something akin to his very genes telling him that anything to do with wind would be a time for his species. Though, of course, he definitely felt the first kind of dread too. He had his own wind knocked out of him as his back slammed against the wall. Then, being picked up again he was tossed into an entirely different wall, slamming his arm against that. Then a third gale picked up and tossed him once more. He could see his own demise coming as he knew he was going headfirst into a wall, and that typically slamming one's head into something was considered fatal. However, as his head smashed against the rocky surface he felt...nothing? His head felt fully intact and he wasn't even suffering from a headache of some kind. If anything, he felt more sorry for the wall, though these feelings were interrupted once more as the wind continued toss him about like a chew toy. Chester's body ached all over as he awoke to the sound of a gentle wind blowing through the area. Pushing himself off the ground, Chester muttered, "what happened?" Looking around and taking note of the scenery, the boy said, "where...this certainly isn't a cave." The Chespin was shocked by the sudden six voices shouting at him, essentially expressing his own thoughts. Albeit louder. Looking to Hector the Chespin cleared his throat saying, "that is certainly the question of the hour." Everyone's attention was then drawn to the pokemon that, as Marv - someone who had most assuredly always been a Froakie - had pointed out, was the Mythical Pokemon Jirachi. "That would certainly not be the thing I'd have expected to meet here. But," Chester looked back to the rest of the group, taking stock of them and making sure they were alright. As the moderator it was his job to ensure the safety of everyone in the group. Though, as the de facto leader as a result, it was also his job to take charge in the conversation of getting info from the wish granting pokemon. Though it seemed to be asleep and two people were already asking it questions, and as such it would be rude of Chester to interject. Though also the first set of pokemon they met that weren't them were also immediately hostile so Chester wasn't sure if conversing was even in the cards with this pokemon. Though it was also a mythical pokemon and they were not in a cave so perhaps such a thing wasn't a worry he should've been having. Though every time they had come across something new or dangerous thus far that one sided voice would warn them about it, and it certainly wasn't doing such a thing now. The Chespin was lost in thought and decision paralysis for a moment before saying, "alright everyone make sure you aren't injured and keep your hostilities in check until this pokemon wakes up. One question at a time too!" The moderator had almost told everyone to form a single file line to ensure that they each went in a proper order, but stopped himself short before looking at the Jirachi.

Had Raki made a list of all the things he could have expected to see as he neared the window, the spectacle he witnessed would have been as far as possible from qualifying for it, not even if someone had warned him in advance. In fact, even after seeing it with his own eyes, it probably wouldn't have made the cut. When he had entered the kitchen, the woman that had been so focused on her work moments before was nowhere to be found. This didn't catch his attention for more than a few moments. The missing knives, even less so. After all, who was he to know what nobles did with their cutlery. As for the missing woman, even if his... "questioning" from before hadn't been enough of an incentive to move into another room, then it was still no surprise that she had fled after a wyvern roared right out of the kitchen's window. Said window, so carelessly swung open, was much more interesting. It helped that Raki was already approaching it. Despite what some of the stories the people shared around at his uncle's village told, a wyvern's cry wasn't nearly enough to throw open doors and the like. Not even Garinphasia's. But wherever that train of thought was going, it ceased to be an issue as soon as he came close enough to peer down towards the street below. "Impossible..." Raki flinched back as if he had just seen Peaches open maws come in from the window, but even that would have made more sense. People... There was no way for a human to be able to do that, was there? He clenched the window frame, leaning forward as he stared in disbelief, blissfully unaware of the presence of the woman right above him. He had met many a wyvern in his young life. He had met many people who handled said wyverns daily, he himself had been one of them. He had yet to see someone capable of lifting one of those scaly beasts by muscle alone. Let alone throw them after that. Raki remained frozen on the window as the scene unfolded, as Edrick and Link dodged the throw, and the man who performed the deed took a bag near him and rushed towards a couple of horses. His muscles remained unwilling to move when the swordsman who he had met a few minutes before struggled to his feet, while the man made his escape with the sack on horseback. His focus was on the wyvern that he had almost been attacked by, thrashing on the ground in pain after having been made to fly against her will, and the crying rider that had rushed to her partner's side. His mind, however, was on Garinphasia. She is... Well outside the village Just as he had asked her Raki didn't want to assume it would have been impossible for her to come to him had he called. She had done it before. But by sheer distance, it functionally was. He would have had no aid were he to find himself in need. That... that was probably for the best. There was an arrow stuck in Peaches chest. Likely to also be that man's doing. An arrow, with that kind of strength behind it... Garinphasia would have not backed down against such an opponent. She just wasn't the type. Would that man be able to juggle her like that too? Surely... Surely not... "GASTON!" That single scream, as Link launched himself in pursuit, shook Raki out of his paralysis. Gaston. Lord Gaston, Hanikap said. He hadn't paid attention, distracted as he was by the event itself, but if that man who had escaped was the one... Raki's hand went to the handle of his axe. This was no time to be lost in thoughts. The man most responsible for what had happened to Timmy was escaping. that was all that he needed to know. "Where did she go? I believe she may be more dangerous than I had assumed." Almost all that he needed to know. The rest of the interrogation had finished while he was busy doing nothing, it seemed. Raki turned towards Gunther and Penelope. "Who?" It took a moment of watching the girl searching the kitchen with her eyes before Raki could guess of whom she may be talking about "If you're talking about the maid, she wasn't here when I arrived." He turned towards the window "However, That Gaston guy just threw a wyvern at your companions, so I think I'm going to go out." With that said, he jumped out the window, onto the street below. Now that he noticed, there was a conspicuous amount of knives on said street. A wild neigh caught his attention. Link was taming one of the horses, or about to be thrown off by it. It was the first one. The swordsman charged in hot pursuit, Raki did not need to guess of whom. Near him, the rider had finally calmed her wyvern, but she seemed to be in a sorry state herself. Raki could understand. If Garinphasia had been wounded beyond his abilities, he doubted he'd have felt much different. Raki made to pursue Link's trail He looked back to the wyvern. Calm as she was, he dared not to approach one that had already found reason to be hostile on the same day, and now she was wounded to boot. The wyvern didn't seem to have any broken bones, as far as he could tell. No part of the wings was bent the wrong way, and she didn't seem to be avoiding putting her weight on any limb. The only doubt was on the chest, but that was probably the arrow shaft still lodged inside. Besides, the rider was another Isaurian. She seemed a nice girl, and she had saved his behind when he had been so careless with peaches before, but the less he had to do with her the better it would have been for him. The arrow didn't look like it had hit a vital organ, but it went in pretty deep. How was it that they treated the fresh arrivals with arrow wounds again? His recent experience was mostly with wounds caused by Isaurian dark magic. He looked back to where the horses once stood. Gaston had long since left. Link was no longer in sight either. Raki really wanted to catch that guy. That guy on a horse. Raki picked up a knife. Clean knife, do not try to shake out the shaft, enlarge the edges... "She's a wyvern, she'll handle it." Raki closed his eyes, trying to recall the other handlers at work, and his few own works on the more surface-level wounds. How deep was it that one had to go? If the heart is... No, before that, how did you prepare a knife properly? He opened his eyes and looked at the blade, dirtied by the fall on the road. Water, fire... was he forgetting something? "We only need to take out that arrow properly." Still, even if he recalled how to perform the operation, one issue remained he may have not been able to solve. He could try what techniques he knew, but... Unless the wyvern decides to allow someone else to do it, he looked at Citron There is only one person who can get close enough to actually operate.

Penelope and Gunther “Y-you really won’t toss me outside?” Hanikap whimpered. “It’s so scary out there. Lord Gaston, the scary flying thing, the wolfydog…” He held his head. “I just… Just wanted to be better, is all. In a better situation. I thought, if I followed Lord Gaston, some of what he had would rub off on me.” He licked his lips, slipping back into his accent. “I ain’t meant for things to get this bad. And now I… I just…” The man sniffled. “I jes’ wanna forget this e’er happened!” He glanced between both Penelope and Gunther. “If’n you can promise to protect me afterward, ‘specially from that angry-lookin’ boy just now. I’ll tell ye everyfing I know. But it ain’t much, I tells ya.” Alois First, Edrick ran out of the room and entered the master bedroom to climb down the window there. Then Citron clambered out of the window in the smaller bedroom they stood in, landing on the roof of the dovecote below and leaving Alois alone up top. Edrick’s way was safer. Citron’s way was faster. It did not take a sage to guess which way Alois would choose. He vaulted out of the window to drop directly onto the roof below. Before the fighter could finish the leap to the ground; he saw another person near the roof he stood on. An unfamiliar young woman with her hair tied up in a bonnet climbed up the side of the wall, arms and legs spread wide like a spider. She held up a hand with several kitchen knives fanning out like silver claws before she threw them all at once down on the ground. A brief flash of satisfaction crossed her face when Link shielded his own face, but she spared no further time to gloat. Instead, she took that opportunity to climb directly below where Alois was standing. The woman cast the boy a quick glance but said nothing, swinging into the window like a trapeze artist and closing the door. Raki The first thing Raki saw upon entering the kitchen was the notable lack of the woman, Dille, who was here before. Next was the knife rack lying on its side, empty of knives. Lastly was the window to his left, swung ajar and shaking slightly from the vibrations caused by the motions outside. Were he to look out and up, he might glimpse the same woman Alois had seen, and perhaps recognize her. But the kerfuffle outside the window was more likely to seize his attention. Edrick, Link, and Citron Miscreant (Intro) - Fire Emblem Awakening Edrick was fast catching up with Pylauses Gaston, but the man did not have the look of a wounded deer fleeing from the hounds. He did not snort in fear, his eyes did not roll backward, he did not even gasp for breath. No, instead his eyes were dark and glittering with anticipation. He was the hound. Perhaps that should have been the first sign that something was off. But his blustery demeanor had thrown everybody off. A fool is a fool, and not to be taken seriously. That is what everybody says. He reached Peaches, but instead of balking, he pivoted to let her stand between him and his pursuers, dropping both bow and sack. And then, he grabbed each of her legs, one giant hand per leg, and lifted. Miscreant - Fire Emblem Awakening For a second, the man stopped. It looked as if the weight of the wyvern would be too much. But then he clenched his teeth, his muscles bulging with the effort. Peaches ascended into the air outside of her own volition. Pylauses’s eyes turned bloodshot from the effort as, with one last roar, he held the wyvern above his head, shirt ripping open and falling from his torso in tatters. The group then beheld the full extent of Gaston's strength. He was built like a boulder, his waist showing off a six-pack. The man’s body shook from the effort of holding Peaches up. He roared again, spittle flying from his mouth as his muscles bunched in anticipation. And then, with a savage heave, he threw the wyvern at both Link and Edrick. Even if the two avoided the throw, they would lose precious time in doing so. Time enough for Pylauses to surge forward in this game of hunter and hunted. Gaston did not stop to look and see if Peaches smashed into either of the two. The man, now gasping for breath, picked up both bow and sack and continued to run. It didn’t take long before he reached one of his horses—the lighter, cream-colored one. The silver bay snorted and stepped away as soon as it saw its owner, hoof kicking out. The man growled and bound the sack to the other horse. He vaulted over the side and clumsily planted himself in the saddle. Pylauses backed the horse out of the open stable and whipped the reins forward with one hand, the other still holding the bow. The horse whinnied and raced forward like the wind given physical form. Gaston was getting away. Tsetseg (and Cora) Acantha hurried into her house, and for a long, tense minute, it was just Cora and Tsetseg standing outside. And then the girl exited, a scowl on her face, before hurrying to the back. A few minutes later, she returned atop a handsome chestnut stallion. “Let’s go. Phai will catch up soon.” The redhead matched the others’ speed, and her hands loosely gripped the reins, but the crease in her brows bespoke her impatience. Eventually, Cora’s house came into view again. Only her father, Posostro, stood in front of them now. “Heyo, I see you found Acantha!” He smiled. “The missus went off to gather the rest of the militia. They’ll be guardin’ the other way, in case this is a ruse or summat. So you can have no worries. The village’ll be well-protected.” “Well, I suppose that’s the least she could do, as head of the militia,” Acantha muttered. Posostro laughed. “As sharp-tongued as ever. Yer mother chose well in namin’ ye.” Acantha flushed. “That’s…” She glared. “Never mind. Just hurry and get Abel!” The man chuckled and left, returning soon after with Abel in hand. “Here,” he held her reins out to Cora. “He’s all yours.” “Yeah, yeah, let’s get going already,” Acantha snapped, then turned to Tsetseg. “You’ll slow us down if you remain on foot for much longer. Get on a horse with one of us. Pick whichever!” OOC I'm back!

“Does being an aspiring professor mean you know a lot about caring for Pokemon? Is there any advice you could give me with Peat? I make sure to brush and oil his fur every night, and I help him pick his teeth and claws clean too." "Weeeell..." Not really... Now that he'd mentioned it, it was probably best to double-check Arthur. He'd just been recovered from a kidnapping, after all, and Bridget wouldn't forgive herself if she was so caught up in having him back that she overlooked some sort of injury on the Trapinch's part. Thus, as the team continued along Route 102, did Bridget pop open Arthur's poke ball and give the creature a good, thorough inspection. And, like the impudent toddler it could very well pass for when not playing, Arthur resisted her every step of the way. "What kinda stuff do you have to do for Artur?” "'E's real fussy about 'is care, actually," Bridet answered, as she tried to part-coax Arthur into opening his mouth, part-pry it open herself. "Won't let me do anyfin' for 'im, 'side from feedin' and playin' wiv 'im. C'mon Arfur, open up, I'm makin' sure you're not hurt!" After several defiant chirps and chitters, and no small amount of trying to wriggle out of Bridget's grip, the Trapinch finally relented, and opened his maw of a mouth for Bridget to investigate. As she confirmed there was nothing of concern inside his mouth, and continued checking the rest of his body for anything that could be a possible concern, she remarked "See what I mean? Best I can do is force 'im to take a bath when he's dirty, and that should be its own category of battle." As if to prove her point, the mere mention of the word "bath" elicited a growl of obvious protest from Arthur, and further attempts to escape Bridget's grasp. The Trapinch only settled down once it seemed to process Bridget was just talking about baths, and not saying it was time to take one. "Pokemon care isn't really somefin' I know much about though. And I 'aven't seen that species until gettin' to Korova, either. Sorry. Peat looks healfy 'n' happy though. I'm sure anyone who knows more about care stuff would say you're doin' a good job." The bog up ahead was, as bogs went, certainly a bog. Nate and Quinn went on ahead into the marshy wetness with varying degrees of effectiveness. Bridget followed suit, taking to the marsh with a sense of familiarity gained from some field research back in certain parts of Galar. Which isn't to say she was just at home in a marsh as on dry land, but between having put up with this sort of terrain before, and having the appropriate footwear for the job, it was safe to say Bridget was faring better than her peers right now. Of bigger concern to her was the statue in the middle of it all. People could be fickle creatures sometimes, but Bridget was always willing to trust a pokemon. And as she eyed the statue's surroundings, she couldn't help but notice almost all of them were avoiding the statue. Peat even refused to follow Nate right up to it, which was an immediate red flag to her. She wasn't an art history major, or a geologist, or anything else that could potentially pertain to identifying a statue, but if all the local wildlife was avoiding that thing, it couldn't be anything but bad news, as far as Bridget was concerned. As much as she wanted to get up close and inspect the statue for herself - really wanted to, more than usual - Bridget made a point to keep her distance, and to keep an eye on the other two in case some sort of timely intervention was needed. Plus, somebody had to make sure Arthur wouldn't get into trouble. Bridget looked down to Arthur... only to find that while she was keeping a watchful eye on Quinn & Nate, her pokemon had slipped away, and was now proudly trotting about in the bog. Gonna have to give him a bath later. Might as well make something of this! Not keeping her attention away from her teammates for too long at any point, Bridget followed her Trapinch companion through the water and mud, then pointed at the first pokemon to cross Arthur's path. A Solosis that was otherwise minding its own business. "Let's blow off some steam, Arfur! Give it a good Bite!" Arthur, for one, seemed all too happy to oblige, charging up to the stray Solosis as best it could, jaws wide open and ready to snap shut on its new quarry.

Nate and Peat rushed into the water of the marsh without hesitation. The water went up to Nate’s ankles, soaking into his sneakers and socks. The mud beneath clung to his shoes like it was reluctant to relinquish him. Nate bulled forward. Peat, beside him, cut through the water with far more grace than he usually had on land. He barked and smiled and raced past Nate. “Oh no ya don’t!” the trainer shouted, pulling a burst of speed he hadn’t had a moment before. Wild Pokémon scattered into cover as the two raced by. Nathan was not a perceptive man on his best days, but even he might have noticed how the amount of Pokémon dropped severely the closer they got to the statue, if he hadn’t been so distracted. “Ha! Caught ya!” Nate was winded when he caught up to Peat. “Not as fast as ya thought, are ya, bud--bud? Peat?” Peat had stopped running. His teeth were bared and he was staring ahead at the statue in the marsh. It was probably only a few yards in front of them now. It was much more interesting up close; towering over the area and chiseled with the skill of someone that had obviously been a master of their craft. Nate felt the sudden urge to touch the statue. Which wasn’t that weird. His Mom had told him a thousand times throughout his life that he didn’t need to touch everything when he went to the store, but he lived in the physical world. His senses were driven by touch. He hadn’t ever felt the need to touch a statue though. He could guess how they felt. Smooth. Cold. Wet, in the case of the statue before him. Still, his Pokémon had stopped for a reason. Peat seemed unwilling to move even a step closer. “Wait right there, bud,” Nate said, moving toward the statue. “I won’t be long. I just… I just need to look. To get my hands on it. What if it has something to do with that rare Pokémon we heard about?” Peat gave him a look that he interpreted to be uncomfortable, skeptical, but he barked again and took a fighting stance. Nate usually trusted Peat. He trusted the instincts of Pokémon more than he did his own. They were connected to the world in a way that humans could never hope to be; more than one trainer had lost their lives by not listening to the Pokémon around them. But something was calling him forward. A tugging in his thoughts that demanded he investigate. “I’ll be right back.” Nate jogged toward the statue.

Dear YCM Community Members, Destitution does not arrive at our doorstep without warning. It is the culmination of a slowly beaten drum. Today, we on these very forums count the days that YCMaker has dared to abstain from implementing updates; tomorrow, we will live in a constant state of wait, never truly enjoying the fruits of his coding because of the anticipation we let to consume us. When I was a passionate card creator, I awoke each day overflowing with excitement, not about what new feature, what new interface, what new shiny effects might be unveiled— what pulled me out of bed each day was envisioning the cards I would create. The captions, the artwork, the attack-to-defense ratios and wondrous titles were so dreamy that when I awoke I often had to change my sheets. Today we count the days. In my day, we got lost in the hours. Tyranny does not just arrive at our doorstep without our complacency. Neither does the yugiohcardmaker disappear without our complicity. If we continue down the currently trodden path, we risk everything. I ask the yugiohcardmaker community— what is it that we value: facile novelty, or our fundamental craft? I already know in my heart that our community knows the answer to this question. Your deputy, Falling pizza

i just saw the falling pizza ycmaker thread oh my god what a fucking gimp jesus christ i am going to piss myself i am going to write some big long whiney post in there i swear i must i have just not been able do anything on the website and this guy is such a fucking twat i can't believe it

um acktually all speedruns are tool-assisted the tool is called the GAME CONTROLLER can't beat a video game without that go trim a hedge or something NERD

“Hmm... Yeah, definitely not in Neo York anymore, this place is wild…!” Jon “Webster” mused to himself as he quickly slung line after glowing line of webbing between the walls of the city’s stone, steel, and mortar buildings. “All of these building styles went out of date ages ago! I’ve only ever seen them in games! So either this place is really into retro displays, or I’m in for some wild stuff.” Jon exclaimed, the digital SPIDER eyes on his mask snapping into a quizzical squint. “Could I be trapped in a game? Electro’s meddling maybe? But nah, she should be contained and getting treatment right now, and Minny isn’t into historical games like these…” As Jon continued his meditations on the nature of the world mid swing, the spider clad motorcyclist sped up as he swerved around a corner, catching sight of this, Jon hastily sped up with his swings, web supplies dwindling at an even higher rate. Swinging past two city blocks, he turned the corner and refocused his eyes on catching the spider rider… Only to discover a two ton ball of metal, glass, and plastic screaming through the air towards him Hastily whipping a line to the side of the nearby building with his free non-swinging hand, Webster yanked with superhuman force to throw himself against the building’s walls, narrowly avoiding being splattered like a bug. “Haka, Shui! Go grab that-” Webster shouted out the rapid command before pulling himself back in check. His friends aren’t here to help him now, he’s got to do this on his own. Pushing the melancholic thought into the back of his mind, Webster leapt off the building, diving in after the falling ball of automotive debris and took action. Grabbing a holo-web grenade from his virtual pocketspace, he chucked the device that promptly cracked open in midair, wrapping its brightly colored net around the ball of metal and plastic. Slinging out a compound line to the two steel supports of the skyscrapers on both sides he leaned forward to gain more speed as he thwipped a final web towards the now balled up debris. Tugging on the line with all his might, Webster linked the three web lines together, making a makeshift restraint for the car. As the car continues its trajectory downwards, the lines begin to pull taut and stretch, arresting the car’s momentum, stopping it from landing on the ground and crushing the pedestrians beneath. “Whew” Jon thought as he spun a final few lines to secure the now immobile car, hanging four stories above the ground. “Much harder doing it solo… But where did this hunk of junk come from?” The answer came to him almost immediately in the form of the screaming roars coming from a gargantuan man clad in rhinoceros themed garb, whose contribution to noise pollution is currently only matched by the air pollution he’s causing by throwing up more cars into the city airspace. Internal lenses behind the SPIDER mask auto zoomed in on the man, revealing his appearance in great clarity to Jon, obviously showing his status as a new costumed menace of some kind. Turning his glance towards the spider clad man on a motorcycle, and calculating for his own internal web supplies, Jon knew he could only either chase the man… or have just about enough webbing to approach the maddened mechanical mammal mimicking menace. With one last turn towards the now dubbed “Rhino-man” and the rider each, Jon sighed as he made up his mind. “I can’t involve some bystander in that... It’s gonna be one of those days huh.” Webster reached out for the web line still attached to the car, fully stretched. “Well, here goes nothing.” with one last big sigh, Webster cut the thread. The two lines binded to the skyscrapers, currently pulled tight and stretching under the pressure immediately contracted, releasing the great elastic force. The energy yanked the thread that Webster was holding, catapulting him upwards into the air, flying past a crowd of flocking pigeons. “Ah, crud! Birds!” Webster said with a little grin on his face even as the pigeon feathers still strewn across his facemask. Casting a line of holo-web to the building ahead, he launches himself with abandon towards the direction of the Rhino-man. “The SPIDER is swinging into action, baby!! Whoo!!”

Quinn was happy to hear that Billy tacitly approved of his Pokémon-raising habits, almost as much as thon was Billy did not even blink at the startling revelation that his hostel was now, technically, haunted. From the mention of Ghost-type Pokémon, though, perhaps that was because it already was. Quinn wondered how a Haunter or a Spiritomb could even wear a collar, but the thought was as ephemeral as the Pokémon themselves, and there was still business to attend to that evening. Another visit to a Pokémon Center was required, and speaking of care, Quinn needed to figure out how Normandie would prefer to be treated. Fae had known and been tethered to Cassiopeia for over a year now. The Drifloon’s habits and eccentricities were well-trod territory, and Quinn had become used to them and incorporated them into itself. Normandie, meanwhile, was unfamiliar territory. Their relationship was much more transactional. Who knew what would happen should the berries run out? There had to be other ways to dote on Normandie besides just feeding her, Quinn thought. Would a bath work? Quinn had read somewhere that rats were actually one of the cleaner animals in the wild with how often they groomed themselves. Would a bath even be necessary? Cassiopeia did not take baths, but she did enjoy being in a bathroom’s steamy atmosphere when the water was nice and hot. She would also enjoy a good polish when Quinn felt she was deserving of a reward. Their first day of adventure and their first new Pokémon companion probably qualified. Quinn took their two Pokéballs back from the center and examined them both. “Tomorrow we shall figure this all out,” xe said to zirself. “Perhaps Bobby will be in a more sociable mood at breakfast time and we can present him with our questions. Either that or rely on our own intuition. Surely someone with experiences such as ours, who has faced such trials, can manage the responsibility foisted upon them here.” They ended up in room L, which seemed auspicious even if Quinn had no understanding of why. The room was relatively spartan, with a bunk bed (Quinn took the top bunk) and a desk with a hard chair accompanying it. There was not an attached bathroom; they would have to share the unisex one (it was Billy and Bobby’s house, after all) just across the hall. Quinn did try to call first dibs on that. Cassiopeia was not the only ghost who enjoyed hot water. It soothed the soul just as much as the form that their material essence had taken. After that and a few other standard nighttime rituals (Quinn had never been the most devoted tooth-brusher even when alive, but he had promised its mother to try their best), Quinn was ready to enter that meditative trance that enabled fae to explore a dreamscape at eir leisure. The only thing left to do was wish the others the same luck. “Good night,” Quinn said as they knocked on each of zir friends’ doors. “Let us try to find each other in the Astral Plane, hm?”

Belle didn't like the sound of that "nowhere near the worst thing a Pokémon has done," but she also didn't care enough to ask what Quinn meant. "If you say so," she said instead and turned away. She was tired and ready to go home. But she couldn't do that, so she did the next best thing—return to the Pokémon Center. The way back was quiet except for the occasional wild Pokémon. Remembering her earlier loss, Belle bit her lip and sent out Moo to get some training in. The cow seemed to handle most of the Pokémon just fine, which was good, at least. Nate seemed to take their shared interest in the Hoenn Rangers as a sign that they were friends now. Or that she was open to chatting. With a put-upon sigh, the girl replied in short sentences: "Yes," and "fascinating" and "uh-huh," though her irritation subsided eventually as she was drawn into the conversation despite herself. "You mean Littleroot Crimson," she corrected. "And he's not bad. I preferred Pacifidlog Cobalt, myself. She was the coolest, but she was also hyper-aware of how the world saw her. She felt the most realistic out of all the Rangers." Moo didn't have to rest much compared to the others (having done the least amount of battling) but he still benefited from a rest in the center. When everybody was done, Belle approached the other two, agreeing with Nate as she glanced over Quinn's stomach. "It did. I wouldn't overdo it if I were you." She didn't push the subject, however, instead grunting at Nate's last words. She didn't enjoy training (it sounded too much like work), but she also didn't enjoy losing. Which is why she got good at League and Unite. But if she didn't want to lose in actual battles, she had to train. Sabrina had told her that enough times.

Hector watched everyone else vanish in a beam of light until only he and Jirachi remained. The Mist was what felt like only inches away from them then. Long, wispy coils stretched out from the bulk of it, and for a split second Hector thought they were forming into something more solid as they got closer. Frayed tendrils became fingers first, then hands, reaching out for the two of them languidly. He blinked and they were just tendrils again. All six of Hector shifted uncomfortably, and without any of his companions around, he was honest with himself. He was scared. He envied the ones to be teleported initially. Hearing about the Mist had been unnerving—Hector had been unsure how they were supposed to help even then—but experiencing it so closely was another thing entirely. How are we supposed to fight against… this? Hector felt an inclination in the back of his mind to form up into a shield wall, but his instinct was cowed by how awestruck he was by what he saw in front of him. The Legends had failed to prevent this. Card games and video games had taught him those legends were supposed to be god-like; forces of nature unto themselves. Yet all of them had failed. All of them except… Hector looked at Jirachi. A tiny blip of a figure against the endless wall of Mist. The final bastion of the once mighty legendaries that had created the world. Hector had thought of him as inspiring so far, occasionally childish, but in that moment he saw him in a new light. The Wish Pokémon seemed lonely. Small. Tired. Hector saw a shining light appear in the corner of his vision. His stomach churned in anticipation of being teleported away. He spared Jirachi one final glance. I can’t imagine how he feels right now. It was rough waking up as a Pokémon, but that probably has nothing on waking up to learn that while you were asleep the world ended and all your friends and family are dead or turned insane by some freaky Mist. The light became blinding. Hector vanished a split second later, still staring sadly at Jirachi. Don’t worry, you aren’t alone now. We’ll help. I promise. ----------- Hector stumbled when his feet found solid ground. They were in some kind of clearing now. He didn’t have to wonder where for long, because Jirachi appeared only a moment after he did. Then he explained what they needed to do to prevent the Mist. Hector was surprised by how easy the request was. His memory of life past his teenage years had been missing since he woke up as a Falinks, but he knew that he had no need of those memories to conjure up a happy moment. NCM had been his escape from a miserable home life. The friends he had made discussing the Pokémon TCG had been his substitute for any real connection with his mother and father. The in-jokes, the late night troll posting, the club shenanigans and all of the theory-crafting in group private messages for local tournaments. He picked one that stuck out to him. The day he told the group PM that he had qualified to go to the 2014 Pokémon TCG World Tournament. It was hosted in Washington, not far from his home state, so he would even be able to afford the trip. They had stayed up until the sun had come up working on his deck for the tournament. Discussing tech choices and the meta. There had been talks of some of them showing up to support him and hang out in person. It was one of his favorite memories. He met Jirachi's eyes, scooped the badge off of his chest, and wished with all his might.

When all was said and done Chester was filled with renewed zeal and an inner strength that allowed him to stride to Jirachi and the others, ready to take on and tackle any problem that may have come their way. Of course he stood resolutely and fearless towards the coming light that encroached upon them, no matter the half assurances that Jirachi had given them and the rather ominous way the light had moved towards them. He knew that he was here to save the world and with everyone else at his side, even if he didn't know all of them fully, he could most certainly do it. Of course this unshakable confidence was briefly shaken by the disorienting sensation of being teleported but the metaphorical fall was only brief before he metaphorically rose through such discomfort in an equally short amount of time. With the blinding light having faded and his eyes and sense of balance having adjusted to the new environment, Chester could tell definitely feel the ominous presence of the woods that they were in, made only more ominous by the encroaching mist coming upon them. Jirachi had mentioned that their goal would either be a success of failure here, but Chester had not gotten to where he was today by simply believing he would fail at every turn. No, he was here to save the world, work alongside his comrades and help them all return home safely and no obstacle of madness or violence would stop him. Of course such gusto would get him nowhere if he simply charged forward, only more evident as Jirachi had made their advice known about what to do. Chester looked at the badge he was given, clenching onto it in stubby hand as he directed his mind to happier thoughts. Chester could only remember his time on the forums. He had no memory of what his life was outside of that, what his world was like. He didn't know who he associated with, what he did for a living was or even what his current goals were. He knew that he was going to school and working feverishly towards a degree of some kind, but he didn't ever really mention what major, why he wanted it or even how close he was to attaining it. But he didn't need what he couldn't remember to give him satisfaction. In fact, he was already satisfied, perhaps already living his best life on the forum. Sure his job as a moderator was stress inducing; bots continually appearing to spam the thread with who knew what, the populace constantly going at each other's throats for one reason or another, making sure rules were followed and requests were listened to and even having to pester other moderators about things that were currently non-functional with the site. He didn't mind any hate or jeering he got from the crowd because at the end of the day he was doing his job and he liked his job. But that was abstract and while it evoked a feeling of pride in him it was hardly the all encompassing joy that was probably needed for such a wish. So he only needed to go back further. He had always loved this community, from the very first day he joined in it. As cheesy as it may have been it was the truth. He loved the vast wealth of knowledge that everyone had collaborated together and making, he enjoyed the in depths discussions about games and pastimes that he actually loved. Sure there was times where it was stressful, there were times where he didn't get along with others and an innumerable times he was heckled for being an "ass kisser" or "mini mod," but those didn't bother him too much. After all he was the one following the rules and he was the one typically being civil. But, if that's how they wanted to view him than so be it. He always felt that he was working towards the communities best interest, and if people were mad at him for working with the mods and already "doing a mod's job," then there was only one thing to do about that. Chester was starting to realize that he perhaps was more of a competitive person then he first gave himself credit for. After all, he wanted to be a mod for altruistic means but he certainly couldn't deny the catharsis that came with proving the naysayers either wrong or right, depending on how you looked at it, and gaining his mod ship. He felt ecstatic that day the position was crowned onto him, though. And beyond the feeling of competitive triumph there was an overwhelming sense of pride and bliss as he had been the one chosen by the mods to become the next mod and he was similarly accepted by the people. Sure there was jokes and jeers about it, but the idea that it was an "obvious choice" made the validation granted from even the negative comments all the better. And so, pouring that joy and sense of accomplishment into his badge, into the vision of a clearer, brighter forest and WISHED.

Z. only realized after the fact, after Jirachi’s pure light had enveloped them before anyone else, that screaming in false pain and terror would have been a really good prank. It would have thrown everything off, and caused one extra flinch of realization, but not more than that before they’d get swept away too and land with only mild discomfort. And it was still discomfort. Just because it didn’t hurt didn’t mean Z. had to like the feeling of being displaced. Alas, again, they only thought of all this when they landed at the center of the island and had to watch everyone else’s reactions to landing without the extra bit of playful fear. They didn’t even say anything snarky to Clobber; his fears were already assuaged by Jirachi bringing up the rear in his spell. The plan, as outlined, was a bit whimsical. “Make a wish…” “Think happy thoughts…” It all seemed like something straight out of a play. “Clap your hands if you believe.” But as soon as they thought that, a new set of words floated into their head, seemingly only by association: But release me from my bands With the help of your good hands. Gentle breath of yours my sails Must fill, or else my project fails, They knew where that was from. That was the final monolog of The Tempest. How did they remember that? But the words kept flowing, and Z. found themselves mumbling along. “And my ending is despair, Unless I be relieved by prayer, Which pierces so that it assaults Mercy itself, and frees all faults. As you from crimes would pardoned be, Let your indulgence set me free.“ Their fanfic! Yes, that was where they had used it. Their months- and tens-of-thousands-of-words-long project had ended with that exact ending, a final thanks from the main character to anyone who had read that far. Speaking of indulgence, it was definitely a bit of wankery to have done so. As Z. would later write in Zeta Channel, “If you start referencing other stories, you better make sure you can live up to them. If I see fucking Shakespeare, I’m going to start wondering why I’m not reading Shakespeare instead.” When they got called out about this apparent hypocrisy, they responded, “You think my story wasn’t worth it?” Z. hadn’t responded with the other reason they’d allowed themselves such vanity. In truth, they’d promised themselves exactly that sort of ending to their story from the outset. Even before knowing its quality, even before being able to measure it up against the other submissions to the Creative Writing subforum and find all the rest lacking, it was simply a promise for creative release and satisfaction -- borrowing from the Bard meant they had completed the damn thing in the first place. The laurels that followed never actually mattered. Just finishing it was enough. Jirachi wanted happy thoughts, right? What could be happier than that? Even more recent goings-on had generally been more positive. They were cordial with people who deserved it, after all, which had led to a fair few positive conversations. Even on a selfish level, talking with Hector and Chester had led to their own self-improvement; they were now more confident in their Zoruan ability to mimic other Pokémon. Like they had told Chester, it wasn’t perfect, but it was a marked step up from back in the Mystery Dungeon where half of their attacks had barely worked at all. There were other, negative parts, of course. Z.’s mind briefly drifted through some of them. There was still an inherent lack of trust some of the other forum members seemed to have with each other, and a grudge that didn’t show signs of going away anytime soon. Z.’s eyes fell on the target of their enmity, but they looked away as that Pokémon nearly returned Z.’s stare. There was still nothing to say about that. But Z.’s antics on the forum had gotten them unfairly slapped with the label of “cynic” (they’d tried for “realist”, at least, to massage the pessimism inherent in that label, but it never caught on). They could be happy for some parts of the future, as long as they got a chance to see them. Right, that was the wish Jirachi had asked for. Z. closed their eyes, consolidated every thought they’d had since their arrival at the center of the island into a single phrase, a single image pictured in their head which they held onto with as much mental strength as they could muster, and WISHED.

"This shouldn't hurt" followed by "don't move" was not a good sign. Clobber felt himself immediately begin to tense up, the exact opposite of what you're supposed to do in those situations, and his fight or flight response nearly kicked in. Only stopped by the sight of the mist coming in. He knew that Pokemon could get pretty spooky at times, in fact he always liked seeing creepy ghost art when Halloween came around, but this felt like a step too far. It did allow him to stop himself from taking off. Thankfully he was one of the first to go and so he didn't have to wait long. "Urgh, I don't think I could ever get used to that." Nor did he want to have it happen enough times for it to become normal. He had enough time as everyone began popping up to look around and all he saw was....trees. A lot of trees. A forest of trees one could say. At first Jirachi didn't appear and Clobber began to feel on edge. "Hey what do we do if he never..." and then he popped up, cutting Clobber's hesitantly voiced concern short. "On my count, lift your badges into the air. When you do, please focus on happy thoughts. On hopeful thoughts. What brings you happiness? What brings you hope? These will provide you with the strength you need to stand against the Endless Mist." Well that sounded....cheesy. Surprisingly so with how dire everything had looked. Happiness and hope, in this economy? Well, guess he had to get to work then. Happy thoughts....happy memories....but wait, all he could remember was the forum. And that...well. All that came to mind was not what he'd call happy. Even when he felt good about the art he posted it would just take one negative comment to turn the memory sad. Even pushing past that part of his forum life most of the rest was him arguing about topics that he only had enough knowledge to know that the other side was wrong. Not the most hopeful of endeavors. There was that time he checked out polls, drawn in by the rather cringy but tempting topic of "best girl" only to discover that somehow Giratina had taken the crown. Which at least was somewhat funny if not frustrating but he doubted those kind of thoughts would help much. He was starting to think that this was pointless, that maybe they shouldn't have brought in a downer like him if they wanted hope and happy feelings, when something came to mind. A memory that had struggled its way through the rest of the mire. It wasn't anything special. If he overthought it he'd realize it was pretty lame for this to be what he latched onto. But latch onto it he did. One day, after a rather hectic spree of deleting a bunch of old artwork, he saw a PM pop up. Usually this meant that someone had complained about him again but this time it was something different. "Hey." it began. "I like your art! I checked your profile and didn't see anything but do you accept commissions?" This small interaction reminded Clobber of a small bubble of hope, a surprisingly potent feeling of joy coming from out of nowhere. And so when Jirachi counted down he held up his badge, trying his best to keep the feeling in his heart, and WISHED.

Jirachi looked at Es and beamed, swallowing the last of the apple. "Wow, you're a strange one, for sure! But maybe it's because you're a Rotom?" Despite his words, his voice held no malice. It felt more like an innocent comment from a child's mouth than anything else. "You have good eyes too! Indeed, I am a genius! Jirachi, the genius!" He floated upward. "Because you're so discerning, I will use my genius brain… and help you out, just this once! ♪" He hummed in thought. "Let's see… There are some Nomel Berries further inland, and some Aspear Berries nearby. Oh, oh! And I have this! Ta-dah!" With a flourish, he produced what looked like a pear. But unlike the pears from our world, this one was blue. Not aqua, not indigo, but a deep blue with an orange ring at its base. "It's called a Belue Berry and I've heard it's super sour! And a little spicy too. Even better! "As for the water," he settled himself back against a rock, "it's as clean as can be! It comes from a spring and Suicune himself rated it safe to drink!" He puffed up his chest and then deflated. "Of course, that was long ago, and who knows if that's true anymore, but I can't imagine that much has changed. I had a drink myself a while ago and I'm still fine. ♪" Fired up by Es's comments, the mythical would also take part in the foraging, gathering water in small handwoven cups made from large, stiff leaves. He gave these to Es and anybody else who passed by. Even though they were made of leaves, they were stable and didn't wobble or fall over when placed on the ground. — Once everybody gathered together and received a cup, Jirachi clapped his hands together in enthusiasm. "All right! Now that we're all here, it's time to make a game plan. This is just like old times—" his smile froze for a second before he changed the subject. "I know you've got other questions. Like, how are you going to save the world? What can you do to do to stop the Endless Mist? Well, you weren't the only ones asking these questions. Even I, a genius, wondered the same. When I granted the wish to save the world, there was another wish—my last wish—that if I couldn't save this world myself, that I could have help. I'm sure that's what summoned you all. "And it also brought me these!" He held up a single gold badge, produced from who-knows-where. It appeared similar to the one he wore on his chest, but lacked the taiko drum shape of the original. Rather, it looked like a metal coin with a five-pointed star affixed to the front and a pair of wings to the back. "These are called badges," Jirachi explained. "Back then, the world had many different kinds. Rescue Team Badges, Explorer Badges, Adventure Squad Badges, Expedition Society Badges… But now they're all gone..." he glanced down at his chest, "mostly." The Pokémon returned his attention to the others with a smile. "There is a special energy in these badges. They were first created by the Pokémon Rescue Organization to combat the natural disasters and rise in mystery dungeons throughout the world. If you set a 'Home Point' for them, then they will bring the bearer and anybody else nearby back to that location. You can also use them on other Pokémon and choose to stay where you are, badge in hand. However, they don't always work, and in those cases you must use an Escape Orb. Pretty mysterious, huh? ♪" Jirachi lowered his hand and stared down at the star-shaped badge. "But I believe these badges have more to them than that. There must be some other reason they were sent to me along with you all. I believe they can combat the Endless Mist." He looked up, eyes blazing with determination. "So, I would like you all to take part in an experiment with me. Please, everybody, take a badge and stand still. I will soon teleport us all to the center of the island." With a wave of his hand, the psychic summoned more badges that floated over to each Pokémon. Unlike normal badges, these didn't have pins, nor could they be sewn on. However, as soon as the Pokémon placed them on their bodies, they stuck in place. They could also be removed with some resistance (like taking off a magnet) and then reapplied elsewhere. Jirachi nodded in satisfaction at seeing them stick. "Let me know when you're ready. We don't have much time left before the Mist arrives." OOC: Yes, banana leaf cups are actually a thing, which is neat. Look them up if you're curious! Also, I finally get to show you all these badges! I'm pretty excited about them, and I think they fit the RP pretty well too. And feel free to finish up any interactions you've started from last round and then react to what's going on here and stuff. I'm planning on moving us on next round, so if there's anything your character wants to say or do still, now's your chance!

With her and Anneliese left to the shopping of other assorted items, Jacklyn was smiling looking at all of the wares that the store had to offer. There was any numbers of medicine around, but Jacklyn hardly any idea what they would need a burn heal or antidote for. And she loosely knew what potions were for but all that mattered was not getting injured to have to use them in the first place! As such, the only thing that mattered to Jacklyn at present was getting another member for her team. After all, a pokemon journey was only a real journey when you had a full team to go explore with! And as such, she was sure that she knew just what it was that she had to buy. Walking back to her team members as well, a bag in hand, the girl said, "I'm back! And look what I got!" Anneliese had already shown of her own findings to the other two, as she said, "I also bought a bunch of pokeballs. In fact, lookie here!" Showing the bag to everyone else it was clear that there was a large amount in there. "Ten of them to be exact. But, fufufu, if you think that this is it then you're in for a surprise. Because you see," the girl rifled through the bag before pulling out a white pokeball. "It came with this! An eleventh! They're called Premiere balls I think. I don't really know what's all that special about them and like sure it cost me everything to get one of these but it looks different! Which means it has to be special right?" The girl proudly presented her Premiere ball again, before putting it back in her bag. "So, how'd shopping go for you Anima?"

"Clobber..." Noibat repeated curious of the designation the Clobbopus had given himself. "Yeah definitely a lot easier!" She ultimately agreed after confirming she didn't know a user by that nickname on the website they all remembered bits of. She neglected to comment on the extent of her Pokemon knowledge as the explanation felt too long winded to be important and it included an admission she knew very little about the generation of games the Pokemon she'd become was even from. Jirachi spoke again to everyone's minds explaining the situation. While this did prevent Noibat having to circle back to her not having a perfect knowledge of all things Pokemon, it didn't exactly inspire confidence. An entire mist-filled world of feral Pokemon was far from any sort of fantasy she could recall anyone having about the series on the forum and Clobber's summation of the explanation voiced her own concerns fairly well. Though if he shared the growing anxiety building up in her Noibat couldn't tell from looking at him. It was Z.'s rejoining their circle of things that turned Noibat's concentration back to the coconut Clobber had broken open for her. She wasn't sure if she'd liked coconut as a human, it oddly wasn't something brought up much in that online space, but something about it looked amazingly sweet. And she liked sweet things that much hadn't been shaken out of her brain. But this was something of a different sensation. Her eyes widened as she examined the flesh of the various bits and pieces on the ground. Z.'s demonstration felt so far away despite being immediately next to her. The near apocalyptic state of this world and even Z.'s jab about her never having had a date she'd meant to retort to didn't mean anything. Her ears emitted a high pitched squeal still in most of the group's audible range as she dashed like a hound out of hell, catching the shard thrown to her and several others on the ground scraping at them voraciously with the teeth she still thankfully had. "Oh my god! When did coconuts get this good!?" Noibat managed to exclaim through mouthfuls of the stuff. The awkwardness of her body aside, she was moving through shards of the shattered fruit fairly quickly, each piece thoroughly divested of the sweet white flesh. Most anything else she tried to say was going to be unintelligible until the coconut was gone or someone stopped her from eating the rest of it. By the way things were going she seemed to forget anyone else was present and was going to try and have it all to herself.

The coconut fall hadn't killed Noibat and now here the Clobbopus was even going along with it. As soon as he finally clenad his hand-tentacle-whatever off. That left the bat with the coconut and no realistic way to break into it herself. Her claws were nice for gripping things but coconuts were tough. She took to nervously humming the tune vaguely in her mind from the coconut gun vow she'd made earlier. Her own train of thought was suddenly disrupted as the voice from earlier in the caverns spoke inside her mind again. The Jirachi the others had roughed up a bit to wake up went on to explain the cause of their being here. It was clear Jirachi hadn't meant to disrupt their lives so drastically, and Noibat could appreciate that a world in danger needed legendary prophesied heroes to arrive to save it. But that she could be among such a group, let alone turned into a Pokemon to accomplish it, that was all a bit much. Clobber voiced her thoughts on the matter though it sounded like he'd meant to only be talking to himself. Noibat nervously tugged at one of her overly sensitive ears and decided to pretend she hadn't overheard him. But as he returned finally free of the dirt, Clobber reiterated the idea, relieving her of the pressure. "Well I'd hate to count any of you out," Noibat started as she nudged the coconut toward Clobber to work his strong-squid magic on. "But I'm definitely not hero material. At least I don't think anyway. I have a lot of memories of a forum I must have been on constantly cuz it's all that's on my brain about when I was human. Doesn't seem very brave to me." Noibat continued while figuring out if it was possible to fold her arms like a person might do when said arms came attached to wings now. She more wrapped herself like a bat might to sleep than got the folding across. It would have to do. "If I've heard some of the usernames the others were giving out earlier right I have ideas about most of us but no clue why Jirachi would need us specifically." Noibat continued voicing what ideas she could form on the subject. Judging people purely by interactions on an internet forum was difficult because somehow she didn't remember interacting properly in person with people to judge it against. So far as she knew nobody here was particularly abnormal as it stood relative to that community. But maybe they were all in fact weirdos. Either way surely there were people better suited to saving a world. Her eyes led her back to the group and Jirachi in particular. "Doubt it's got many answers but wouldn't hurt to ask I guess, uh..." Noibat blanked looking for a name. She had seen a Clobbopus before but like most gen eight Pokemon names entirely escaped her. "Wow that's awkward don't think I got your name." She tried nervously laughing off in some hope of not offending him. "Know I didn't give much either but I'm drawing a blank on even what species you are. Got something you wanna be called?"

Belle thought about getting up. She really did. But that would require effort, and effort was not a word the girl cared to hear. Or say. Or imagine. So while she thought about getting up, it was a transient thought. A bubble rising to the surface of her brain and popping before it could so much as stir the waters of her imagination. Nate was shouting something. He was a loud person; a high-energy type that encouraged his companions to emulate him. Exhausting to be around. Very different from their first meeting, vomiting his guts out over the side of the ship. Unlike Belle, he had bounced back from his bout of seasickness like a Spoink. It just went to show that the world was unfair and there was no God. Belle would've avoided Nate and his unfair health, were it not for him helping her multiple times while on the ship. When she needed hydration, he was there with a drink. When she was too sick to move, he walked her to her cabin. So her feelings balanced equally at gratitude and regret. Time would tell which would weigh heavier in the future. There was a poke on her arm. At first, Belle thought it was the little bear Nate had chosen as his starter. Back on the ship, it had snuffled into her arm. She had ignored it, though its nose really was very ticklish, and unfortunately, Belle was the ticklish sort. Not that she would ever let anybody know. But it was Quinn this time, not the bear. Belle groaned out loud, mentally raising a white flag. "Fine, I'll get up." She let Nate pull her back to her feet and accepted the lemonade. Belle then stared at Quinn with a weary wariness. The third member of the group, and an absolute weirdo. Coming from Belle, that was saying something. The person (if one could even attribute that word to them) had made it clear just how weird they were from the start. The two first met while Belle lay on a chair, recovering from a recent storm (and the subsequent tossing of the ship). Most passersby would ask if she was okay. Quinn poked Belle and asked if she was also a ghost lingering on the mortal plane. Belle had taken the comment in stride, unable to do much else in her condition. But now, with her stomach not distracting her so much, she could finally parse that sentence (and the others) with the care they deserved. This… person (or ghost, whatever) was a weirdo. There. Analysis done. Nothing more. Or at least, Belle would like to end it there. But Quinn was… peculiar. Unusual enough for Belle to wonder if they were a ghost, after all. Belle was an internet guru and knew that ghosts weren't just of the ectoplasmic variety. Quinn could be a half-ghost, an evil spirit, or something else. Sometimes, Belle wished she had honed her psychic powers more, or at least directed her attention to matters beyond telekinesis. Then she could say for sure. But that would have meant effort, and as mentioned before, effort was not a word one could associate with the girl. Speaking of effort, walking. Belle managed several more steps, gaining confidence that she would, in fact, be able to walk without falling over. A momentous occasion soured by the appearance of a girl in shorts shouting about a Pokémon battle. Again, effort. Not something Belle was partial to. She took a sip of lemonade (not gulps, because she didn't need her stomach turning over itself again). With that done, she waved at Nate. "I'm fine. In fact, I have an idea." The girl coughed, throat raw from throwing up so often on the ship. "You can 'claim dibs' on all of my fights for me. Sounds like a win/win situation." The strange girl had a point, though. Belle needed a change of clothes. Badly.

It was odd, to be honest. Throughout Marshall’s life, there were always arguments over what ‘death’ meant for each person; it was strange having an answer. Then again, she knew this answer would be less than satisfying for most, but what could she say? There was nothing. It was a peaceful nothing; a nothing that she almost understood this time, that she almost accepted. After all, this nothing had rescued her from the gouging pain that had so prompted her entry into the darkness; this nothing had rescued her from the acute knowledge of every organ in her body, as it screamed out in pain from the lance that had embedded itself in her flesh-- But as with all sweet-nothings in death, that too came to an end, as a voice followed. As a voice showed her something. A dragon was born. A star was born. A world was born. It seemed, she had an answer to the question of creation as well now. Marshall awoke with a sigh, as she found herself slumped down on the ground, and once again assaulted by the existence of sensations. There were small things; the feeling of her clothes as they clung to her body. The uncomfortable feeling where she had begun to wear a hole through her shoe, though it hadn’t quite come to be yet. The rough ground against her face, and the rest of her body. The feeling of air as it passed through her mouth, through her lungs. The light as it assaulted her eyes with a sudden fervor, the overwhelming might of the light reinforced by that of sound as Sabrina asked question after question; and good questions as they were, they were still a lot. She would have to process them later. With another sigh, Marshall slowly rolled herself onto her side, and then sat up, cracking her neck, and then her back. Blinking one eye and then another, she slowly pushed herself to stand up, stretching her arms for a moment, before crouching back down. “...Good then,” she spoke, clearing her throat as she picked her hat up off the ground, before rising back to her full height, turning to regard the others as she placed her cap back on her head, and adjusted it. “...I’m glad to see that my previous hypothesis about life and death rings true in these tests as well, Dispatcher,” she nodded towards River with a faint smile For how simple a question it is River seems to ponder it for a moment. “My Lady is certainly responsible for your current state of being, though I believe the return of your hat is more a product of your own doing.” “...I see,” Marshall nodded, crossing her arms. “...I suppose then, that it’s similar to our weapons?” she asked, the idea sparking off in her mind. “Where, since they are a part of us, their physical form is shaped by our self perception? And in that way, our clothes and appearance are as well?” The girl smiled and nodded. “Yes very similar. As I had mentioned, identity is a very important part of the soul, and both the concept of wearing clothes and these clothes in particular must have some importance on your own identity. So rest assured that no matter how damaged or lost your clothing becomes it shall always return to you, in a similar way to how your body will always retain the same shape after being healed.” Marshall seemed to pause, as if taking this information in for a moment, before nodding. “...That makes some sense, then,” she nodded. “Thank you for your time, Dispatcher,” she brought a hand back up to her hat, and gave another slight nod towards River, before turning her attention back to the others. “...I suppose I should add to this; good work. I wasn’t able to see it, but judging by the fact that I have returned, I’d like to thank you all for dispatching our remaining foes in a timely manner,” she’d explain, tucking her arms behind her as she spoke, a faint, almost proud-looking smile on her face.

Clobber didn't really notice what was happening around him. He was laser focused on getting to the water and washing up. He had to stay focused so he didn't end up freaking ou- didn't end up getting annoyed at everyone being so damn stupid all the time. He DID notice when the small bat Pokemon landed nearby....with a coconut of all things. "Wait there really was one of...forget that don't go hurting yourself for a damn, uh, fruit?" He wasn't about to waste time trying to figure out what a coconut actually was. "Anyway, here lemme..." he reached out for the coconut, saw the clump of dirt still stuck to his fist, and pulled back. "On second thought you hold onto it for a bit I'm gonna wash this off me first. Then, I dunno, I probably can crack it open." He glanced over at the group and sighed. "Maybe a snack will get em to stop actin' up." He began to finally wash off the dirt when suddenly a voice that was growing more familiar spoke in his mind. "As I'm sure you've all figured out, this place you've all found yourselves in is the world of Pokémon. And it's my fault you're here. At least… I think so. This world is in trouble. And I made a wish upon the stars to save it. Right after, you all showed up! Since I am a genius, I just know that there is a connection. You seven (or twelve) must be the heroes this world needs!" Well that wasn't that surprising. No, it was hella surprising, but it made some amount of stupid sense that the wish Pokemon would have been able to pull something crazy like this off. At least he knew that it wasn't his own wish that brought him here, he wouldn't want something like this right? "Tch, heroes, no way someone like me is a hero. That Jirachi must be busted or somethin' if they landed on me with their wish." He hadn't realized he said it out loud at first. He also didn't know where it had come from. What even was someone like him? He didn't really know much about what he was like. The only memories he had mainly involved arguing and posting then removing failed attempts at art. Which he supposed was not really the stuff of legends in the slightest. He glanced over at the Noibat. "Guessing you don't got any idea about why any of us would be chosen do ya?" He glanced at the coconut. "And hand that over, I'll take it, doesn't look like you'll be able to do much with it yourself."

“One-two.” Thump-thump. “One-two.” Thump-thump. Anyone watching the boy on the deck of the ship could have been forgiven for believing that he simply never learned to count higher than two. Everyone aboard the ship would have seen him standing around and waving about two rubber pads he had strapped to his hands; he had done it every day since boarding. “One-two.” Thump-thump. “Really put your body into it, Peat, don’t be afraid to follow through.” Most would have gathered that Peat was the mossy blue bear Pokémon that was always hitting the pads, re-contextualizing the boy’s actions as training. Other things that marked the boy as a Pokémon Trainer—aside from his Pokémon—were the iconic Poké-Belt with a minimized PokéBall clipped to it, his very practical manner of dress, and the PokéDex he sometimes whipped out of his pocket to stare at. Thump-thump. Peat struck the pads, one after the other, with the flats of his fins. Nathan shook his hands in the fashion one did when trying to shake-off a papercut, yet he was grinning down at Peat. “See how much stronger that was? That’s how you do it! Just about knocked my hands off!” He unstrapped the pads and let them hang loosely from his wrists, crouching down and patting Peat on the head. The cub excitedly tackled him to the ground and began pressing his snout into his trainer’s chest. Nate tumbled backwards onto the deck, laughing the whole time. “Hey! Careful! With how strong you’re getting, you keep bowling into me like that and you’re gonna have to find a new trainer!” Peat made a high-pitched chattering sound deep in his chest that was reminiscent of a running motor. Nate giggled and playfully wrestled his starter off of him, shoving him back onto the deck. “I’m serious! With how much weight you’re putting on—Peat?” Nate cut himself off when he noticed his starter waddling off towards the stern of the ship. “Where you goin’?” he shouted after him, but it was too late. Nate scrambled to his feet, shoved the punching mitts into his backpack, and chased after the runaway Pokémon. “I was kidding about the weight, bud! It’s all muscle! You’re not really gonna flatten me into a pancake! Come back!” Even with the head start, Nathan was much faster than the naturally aquatic Bearble. He caught up just in time to see Bearble finally coming to a stop beside a kneeling figure. Nate wasted no time in darting over to see if he could help. “Yo, you okay?” he asked. Then, after getting a closer look, he realized that he recognized the figure. “Belle? Seasickness is still bothering you, huh?” He had actually met her in a very similar situation. They had boarded the ship on the same day, and both of them had spent the first few hours puking off the side of the boat. His own sickness had thankfully gone away after the first day. It appeared that hers hadn’t. Nate wasn’t sure why but he felt somewhat responsible for helping her. He felt guilty, bouncing back so fast while she was still suffering. Peat also seemed determined to help. The cub pressed his nose into her arm until she was forced to acknowledge them. Nate took the opening to grab her hand and pull her to her feet, slinging her arm around his shoulder when she proved unable to support her own weight. “Don’t worry. I got you. I think it’s time for us to get off, anyways, so how about I help you off the boat? I’m sure you’ll feel better then.” He paused only long enough to return Peat to his PokéBall. The little bear hadn’t yet learned how to navigate crowds, and had a tendency to trip people or get stepped on, so Nate had taken to returning him whenever they had to travel in busy places. It didn’t take long to get off the boat. Belle was heavier than she seemed, but Nate was also a lot stronger than he seemed. Nate let her remove her arm from around his shoulder and hold her own weight once they were far enough onto land. A man with glorious facial hair that had Nate longingly stroking his own cheeks, wondering when he would be able to grow something like that, welcomed them to the city. Nate very nearly cheered with excitement. “Finally! We finally made it to Korova! This is the first step in our journey. Can you believe that, Bel—BELLE?!” Nate rushed over to her side and pulled her back to her feet. He was careful to stay close enough to catch her if she were to fall again. “Here,” he said, pulling a bottle of lemonade out of his backpack. “Drink this. You’ll feel better. You’re probably dehydrated after being sick for so long.”

Hector very nearly inserted himself into Z. and Es' spat as a mediator, purely out of habit, but decided against it. They were both—from what he gathered—adults, he was no longer a moderator, and this was no longer an internet forum dedicated to a children's card game. They both needed to act their age and settle their own disputes. "No hard feelings," he said to Jirachu, ignoring the argument nearby. "I can be pretty grumpy in the mornings too." Hector wasn't sure if that was true. His memories of his teenage years were the most clear to him, when getting out of bed involved a lot of grumbling and groaning, but vague memories of extremely early mornings made him wonder if he had outgrown that. Jirachi spoke again before he could think on it much more. Something about explaining things. Then—then the voice that had guided them throughout the cave echoed in his head. Hector very nearly stumbled backwards in shock, but he had mastered his body enough to find his footing before he fell. "The voice from the cave," he mumbled. It was obvious now that he thought about it. The wind, the telepathy, Jirachi having already used their wish... Of course Jirachi had been the one to bring them here. Who else possibly could? Hector was shocked to find that the realization made him angry. Something told him that he could not afford to be here. That there was something, someone, some place that desperately needed him there. That something would go terribly wrong if he was gone for very long. It had been a tiny, niggling thought in the back of his head since had first woken up in that cave, but now it was all he could think about. It dominated his every thought. He took a deep breath to steady himself. "How do we get back? How long have we been gone?" Hector did his best to project a calm front, but the fact that all six voices spoke at once was a dead give away to how anxious he was. He focused harder. "I'd be more than happy to help. Honestly, I think this would have been a dream come true at one point. But I'm not a kid anymore. There's... I'm not sure, but I know there's something back home that needs me there. Something really bad is going to happen if I'm gone too long."

BGM: Awakening - Pokémon Mystery Dungeon Rescue Team DX The Pokémon continued to blink, and for a few seconds, it looked like an owl. But then it stopped, revealing doll-black eyes. But unlike doll eyes, these shone with a light and life that could not belong to anybody but a living creature, and a happy one at that. A wide smile stretched its face as it cheered. "Whoa-a-a-a! Hey now! My eyes are wide open!" No longer mumbling, but using the full force of its vocal cords, everybody would realize where they had heard this voice before (if they hadn't already): their helpful guide in the mystery dungeon. It stretched its arms then. First the left one, and then the right one. "Huh? Oh, you're all awake!" It paused. "You know, I just saw you in my dream! In my dream, you were… engaged in a heroic battle. Or some of you were." It bobbed up and down in the air. "Whoa! That's so strange… Feels like I've had this happen to me before. Where people from my dreams appear in front of me…" It giggled. "Fancy that! ♪" In the brief (and likely dumbfounded) silence that followed, the Pokémon turned its attention to Z., "You know, in my dream, you said some pretty mean things. But… since it was a dream, I won't hold it against you!" Then it twirled in the air, catching sight of Es and Hector. "Whoa! You're not looking so great. But don't you worry, I'll Wish away your aches and sorrows." The goofy grin disappeared then. And at that moment, the entire group would feel the lack of it, as if the sun's light had grown a little dimmer. But not just dimmer. The entire area darkened in a false night. Even the outside sounds disappeared as the Pokémon clasped its hands together and closed its eyes in concentration. Not long after, a single glowing yellow star descended from the heavens. It circled around Es and Hector, and then spread out to circle the entire group, but touched nobody. And if anybody reached for it, it would wink out of existence, reappearing in a twinkle as soon as they gave up. Eventually, it stopped its spinning to climb back into the sky, stopping directly above everybody's heads. Then it exploded into multicolored lights, sizzling like a firework. But the flash of light brought with it not a searing burn as expected, but a gentle warmth like that of a candle in the darkness. At that moment, all pain evaporated, and all lost energy returned. The closest comparable feeling would be that of awakening from a long, restful sleep during a midsummer vacation, with no school or work to worry about. The group could bask in that feeling for a few seconds. Then, as if beckoned by the star’s disappearance, the daylight and surrounding noise returned with a vengeance. The Pokémon opened its eyes, a slow smile spreading across its face, separating its hands to spread them wide. "All better now, right? All right! ♪" Not even waiting for them to reply, it twirled in the air again. "Before you all say anything, and I know you all must have a lot to say, I have a question of my own!" It turned to Marv. "Weren't you different before? And… wasn't there one more of you?" It paused, shaking its head. "Or… never mind. I wasn't actually there with you, so I must've… made a mistake?" Its bell-like voice rose in pitch from confusion. The entire group would share this confusion, their thoughts and memories scattered like dewdrops under the sun. But the gloom didn't stick around for long. Because the next second, the Pokémon had returned to its beaming countenance. "Well, whatever! If I can't remember, it must not be that important." It giggled. "Before I forget this too, I'll introduce myself. My name is Jirachi! But you can call me… Jirachi! ♪" OOC: Okay, this is the actual start of the round. I say round, but since there is no fighting, a round isn't really necessary. Just post what you want, when you want, and if you want to post again before I post, go for it! I also might not wait for everybody to post before posting since this is mostly interaction, and so my posts will probably be interaction posts.

Chester was unsure if the people here were born with a compulsion to split away from whatever group they were in as soon as the opportunity presented itself. Such a thing, in his long tenure of dealing with people both on and offline surely should not have surprised him and to an extent it did not, yet it certainly continued to get on his nerves. Of course it's not like he told them to all stay together, though he was certain they would have split off immediately anyway, and his other plan to ask questions and keep hostilities in check certainly had hit a bit of a snag as well as the Mythic Pokemon had failed to keep its own hostility in check. Chester looked over to see a blast of psychic energy flying to Es and two things had stuck out to him. One, that the being had told them that it was prone to thrashing about in its sleep. And two, that he was starting to believe his initial suspicion about the pokemon to be correct upon hearing its voice. Before he could think of how to react to the situation, Hector leaped into the fray and attacked the Mythic pokemon, much to Marv's dismay. Chester himself was a bit confused by the action but also didn't think Hector would leap into a fight without a real plan and seeing as Es had no plans on retreating either it seemed like the two had resolved to fight Jirachi themselves. Chester was at a stand still at what to do; on the one hand everyone was already far enough and way and it said that only being in close proximity to it would put them in danger. On the other hand it was only in its sleep that it posed a danger and perhaps striking it enough would get it to wake up, thus negating the danger entirely. Well, presuming it wasn't mad at them when it woke up. The more Chester thought about it the more he also realized the issue with the first. "It threw the first punch, Marv, though I don't typically condone responding to violence with violence, but the pokemon in the dungeon showed that they understand no other language. But, I think we have to worry about it being mad at us. Actually I think we're in danger as long as we're on this island and it's asleep." Surely it was easy to define what was close to a normal person, but this was a being that could speak to them from virtually anywhere. To such a being with such an awareness the definition of "close" started to fall apart. "So the only way to keep us safe is to fight! Again! To arms!" Chester wasn't quite sure why he shouted that last part but he was certain it was something a person would say in this situation. And so following his own advice he readied his two arms. Chester couldn't tell what it was, perhaps his own typing at play here like what he attributed his fear of large gale storms to, but the grass certainly felt much easier to run across then the stone floor of the cavern. In fact, it was not only easier to move through but it was as if his body felt lighter and more responsive within the grass. Sprinting forward, Chester closed the gap between him and Jirachi bringing up his fist and striking the myth with it. As it did, Chester felt a surge of power flow through him, which he used to deliver a second punch against them. Feeling as though his two arms were growing stronger with each punch, Chester felt confident in his plan. Especially as, after the second, Jirachi seemed to look a little less asleep in its tossing and turning.