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“Fear not, Belladonna,” Quinn said. “I have spent the past year and a day familiarizing myself with my new corporeal form. I know my limits. But that is also why we must expand them! Why even be on this journey if we are not going to pursue the absolute pinnacles of what trainer and Pokémon can achieve?” All the maps provided to them had been very clear. Fernsworth was the next town over. That was their destination, and they had whatever time remained in the day to get there. Their initial foray into Route One Oh One had gotten them sidetracked by the thrill of independence, of a whole new world opening up before their eyes. Now was the true trial, the true measure of worth. Their supplies were lesser for the sidetrack, but at the same time, their total number was greater. Quinn felt both Cassiopeia and Normandie by her side even as they were still both in their Pokéballs in his bag. They could all train as they went along. Quinn’s pace was steady, slow enough to keep Belladonna from falling behind, yet still firm and with purpose. They could train along the way. “Enough of this,” the Lass said. “Starly, get back here! We’ll regroup and-” They were almost the same words Quinn had used when encountering Normandie for the first time, and the Ratffian barely even needed to be told what to do in such a situation. Quinn still issued the command: “Normandie, keep up with Pursuit!” At the very least, Quinn felt xe had to demonstrate e could make proper decisions. Quinn wanted to improve their relationship with Normandie to the point where she might listen when their decisions contradicted. As things stood, it felt more the other way around. Maybe Normandie was already charging up the Pursuit, and Quinn was just following along barking out the order as a formality. It was either that or ze was just a natural at training Pokémon, and she did not have enough hubris to believe that to be the case. It was working out for them so far. Normandie dashed forwards and leapt several times her height into the air, snapping at the Lass’ Starly, finally landing a blow around the starling Pokémon’s ankles and dragging -- no, slamming -- it back to the ground. The Starly had already taken a few Tackles and a couple of Tail Whips. The Pursuit was the final nail in the coffin. Not literally, of course, although, given how Normandie still stood tall and proud over her conquest, one could never be quite sure until the Starly’s eyes fluttered as it returned to the Lass’ Pokéball. “Well done, Normandie!” Quinn said. “Here, let me…” They were already fishing around in his backpack for a berry to reward their Ratffian, and Normandie in turn dutifully trotted over to receive it. As they made their exchange, Quinn heard scurrying behind hir. She turned around only to see a telltale purple tail disappear into the bush. The wild Rattata of Route One Oh One were out for revenge, were still out for the berries, or both. They were getting testy. But they were not all jumping out to attack at once, at least, so Quinn just kept an eye out. Normandie, too, glared at the bushes until they finally stopped moving, even in the breeze, before returning to her Pokéball. At one point along the journey Quinn took up Nathaniel’s offer of physical training, though Cassiopeia took even more interest in the activity than Quinn did. She had absorbed the basics well enough watching the trainers go through a basic drill, learning how to punch, learning where to punch, and, most importantly, learning when to punch, and now it was time for the Drifloon to do the same. The target pad had been set up. Cassiopeia faced the target head-on, arms raised in front of her face just as she had been shown. She pressed forward and… …and barely touched Nathaniel’s palm. “You can do it, Cassiopeia,” Quinn said. “Remember what Nathaniel said: you are moving forward with the blow to put your weight into it. Punch past the pad.” Cassiopeia nodded and her eyes grew fierce. Quinn had read that Drifloon and Driflim were theorized to be propelled by a secret fire, and he could certainly see that in Cassiopeia’s eyes now as she squared up again. She reared back, breaking the form Nathaniel had shown her just to put her all into this next punch and… …and lightly brushed the target this time, little more than a light shove. Quinn rushed in immediately to console her balloon. “Oh, dear Cassiopeia,” she said. “You do only weigh two gravelerock at most. Perhaps this is not the activity for you. But we can find something else that will suit you better. I promise you that we will.” Cassiopeia remained solemn, however. “Blooon…” Cassiopeia did much better when it came to training against actual Pokémon. Her awareness against the several Rattata that had approached, one after the other, remained as good as Quinn could hope for, and she was able to use her flight advantage to great effect, dashing around the clearing in the middle of some tall grass, keeping herself Minimized as per Quinn’s plan, and Gusting when the time was right. It was not as though the Rattata could do much to harm her anyway, but Quinn had decided it was better safe than sorry. She was getting stronger, too. Normandie was getting stronger as well, but Quinn had spent so much time with her Drifloon that they could see the gains more easily. It was encouraging. Quinn had promised faer parents that he would be well-protected, and even with the increase in Rattata aggression, no further harm since their bruise had come to their person. By the same token, though, Quinn could see the wear from all these fights. Normadie’s coat had gotten scratched up as well. They were almost to Fernsworth, and good thing too, because they did need to stop soon. As the afternoon light faded into evening, Quinn almost felt like Belladonna, in that they wanted to fall asleep where they stood. It could see light up ahead, though, coming from a window -- a house bordering a fenced-off area where Quinn could see Pokémon roaming around with no conflict at all. As Quinn got closer, he could see that all the Pokémon had collars on them. There was also a sign near the front door of the house that said “DAYCARE” and then, in brackets underneath in a handwritten scrawl, “(also pokemon center).” A Pokémon center solved one of their problems, at least. Quinn went right up to the door and yanked on the doorknob, but it was locked. There was a second sign (or third, depending on how one counted) on the door itself that said “Knock for Entry” and a door knocker just below it, so Quinn used that instead. It took a moment to find out, but the man who answered the door had blonde hair and was tall enough that he clearly missed Quinn standing just in front of him, but he did look down before Quinn had to get his attention. “Oh, hello there,” he said. “I’m Billy, and this is my daycare. Well, mine and my brother Bobby’s. What can I do ya for?” Quinn pointed to the sign. “The sign says this is a Pokemon Center -- if this is true then I request your services. In addition, my companions and I will require lodging for the night so if you know where in Fernsworth a hostel might be, that would be appreciated as well.” The man -- Billy, right, Quinn thought, hopefully remembering this time -- scratched his head. “Not sure what a hostel is, but you can stay in one of the spare rooms here if you want. Just make sure you don't mess with any of the Pokemon and take your shoes off at the door. We sure do have a Pokémon Center too, if that’s what you need more.” He gestured inside. Quinn could see that she was looking into a modest living room, but ze could see some recognizable machinery through a doorway off to the side. Still, Quinn could not help but show off his preparedness a little bit. Even as Quinn gestured for zir companions to join them in accepting Billy’s hospitality, they said, “I admit I do not have personal experience with hostels, but I did read about them in preparation for our journey. A hostel is a shared lodging, meant for short stays and the potential to meet and socialize with other travelers.” She dutifully took off her shoes and wandered in. “I suppose this could qualify if you ever think to update your signage again. You are most kind to offer this.” “Well, aren’t you a smart…” Billy looked at Quinn a bit and finished “…young person. I think I’ll do just that. And don’t think nothing of it. We all gotta help each other out, after all.” Quinn found themself fixated on Billy’s hesitation and sought to correct the matter. “My name is Quinn,” thon said. “I am a ghost!”

Brian wheeled around “Who are you calling Sherlock? Oh.” Carmen was talking to a picture. He thought about saying some more but just rolled his eyes instead and went back to pacing around. He got to a wall and turned, circling the room, only watching out in case Carmen moved, but otherwise looking at the spirit box and listening intently. Apart from the medium-grade noise music coming from the spirit box and making sure to stay out of Carmen’s way as she continued to ponder the artistic merits of a gimmicky pet photo, nothing grabbed his attention. No words, ethereal, from the spirit box, or otherwise, made their way to Brian’s ears, and nothing else supernatural happened either. Near the end of his lap around the room, though, he did come across a printer, and following Carmen’s lead, he started fiddling with that instead. A few button-presses here, lifting the copy lid, checking the paper tray… Brian did anything he could to stir a reaction from the printer. Still nothing. He checked if it was plugged in, too, and it was, so the nothing was technically unusual, but still within the realm of normality for printers. He went and grabbed a seal from the box and stuck it on the printer anyway. “All printers are haunted,” Brian said. “Maybe if I stuck a seal on the printer at the library it’d stop eating all my copies.” This seal, though, did not exorcise the printer-not-turn-on spirits like Brian had hoped. He turned back towards Carmen. “Well, I’m pretty convinced there isn’t anything weird over here,” he said. “Unless…” He wrenched open a file cabinet and riffled through the various papers, but they were all legible and terribly ordinary. Even the most poorly written piece of academic fluff couldn’t get Brian’s eyes to glaze over faster than they did scanning those files. “I guess we could give those posters a poke or something in case there’s some secret escape tunnel, but I’m ready to go upstairs or --” He pointed across the room “-- wherever that door leads, anyway.”

“I will give them an undivided heart and put a new spirit in them; I will remove from them their heart of stone and give them a heart of flesh. Then they will follow my decrees and be careful to keep my laws. They will be my people, and I will be their God.” -Ezekiel 11:19-20 Melissa returned Fen’s smile and gave her a small thumbs up. She knew who to thank for being still in the game after getting utterly exposed last turn. She’d managed to hide it, but the moment that Self Destruct Ant came out, Melissa had fully accepted her defeat. Not that she could do much as it stood with her current hand. She needed to draw something truly spectacular to crawl back into the game. “Draw- oh.” Well, that could do it. It certainly solved a number of her problems at once. “I’ll activate Change of Heart targeting your Traptrix Atrax,” Melissa said. She could feel Fiona’s stare burning a hole into her forehead, but she tried her hardest to keep her focus on the board. “Do you mind if I touch your cards? Actually, it doesn’t matter. I can have it, uh,” She accidentally glanced upwards and had to take a moment to compose herself. “It’ll attack you for twenty-three hundred and then for my Main Phase Two, I’ll tribute it for this face-down monster, and I’ll also Set the last card in my hand in the Spell or Trap Zone.” Fiona’s Life Points dropped to 3300, and she wordlessly took her Atrax and placed it in her Graveyard. Melissa looked up again, and her eyes had narrowed, as if she was trying to sus out something about Melissa. But Melissa didn’t even know what she could be hiding outside of the known unknown information in play, so she didn’t even have to try to keep a poker face, she just had her normal face. When Fiona drew her card, her expression changed. She was smirking again. “Well, look who came back,” she said. “It’s my Goblin Attack Force again, only this time, it has 2800 Attack thanks to Gaia Power. And I’ll use that attack on Nettles.” Melissa’s face-down was no help here, and neither was Fen’s, apparently, so both of them could only watch as the goblins crashed into the nettle plant for 600 damage, sending Fen down to 1700. “Finally,” Fiona muttered as the hologram and the Trap card attached to it got sent to the Graveyard. She then set the last card in her hand and ended her turn. It felt like the momentum had shifted, but with so many Traps in play (or Quick-Play Spells, couldn’t forget about those), there were still so many ways this could go wrong. Judging from what Fiona had played so far, nothing was off the table. But with so few cards in everyone’s hands and dwindling Life Point totals, it wasn’t like they could spend time playing around imagined scenarios. They just had to seize forward on any weakness they could. “Alright, Fen,” Melissa said, “I hope you can make this turn count.”

THERE IS POWER IN THE BLOOD There was silence after Override’s big speech, but only for a moment. The Fates couldn’t help but get some snark in. “Oh, the triple-G are the keepers of the peace now, huh?” Clotho said. “What does that make the Peacekeepers then?” “In any case,” Director Sekelsky said, pointedly ignoring the question, “The big question in the center of all that remains: Where is Caesar? A stealth raid isn’t out of the question, but we can’t just send spies out to cover the whole city. We’d spread ourselves too thin. Even just narrowing things down to probable areas would be a start.” “Also, it is important to note that we are at war,” Ophiuchus said. “Perhaps more importantly, Caesar is the one who declared this war. I am not exactly enthusiastic about committing ourselves to nonviolence in the face of that.” He returned Override’s stare, too. “Though perhaps you would say that is just in my villainous nature to want to punch back?” Again, Stanley stepped in. “We’re all on the same side right now,” he said. “Now, ah, Sibyl’s suggestion of drawing people out through an announced challenge does solve another problem that I’ve been meaning to bring up. Namely, the election that is, or was, scheduled for tomorrow.” There were murmurs from some of the crowd. “Sweet Astra,” Atropos muttered under her breath. Stanley ignored them. “Obviously, an S-Class threat takes precedence,” he said. “But it saves everyone a large logistical hassle if we can get this over and done with quickly, and choosing a handful of champions per side does do exactly that. Aeon seems confident, anyway.” “I’m not willing to surrender the city to the whims of The Stanley Principle,” Director Sekelsky said. “…or Stanley’s principles,” Atropos said. “Well, we don’t have to,” Stanley said. “Caesar would still be an existential threat to the city. He would still be an S-Class threat necessitating alliance. He might even be more so if he felt particularly slighted.” “There is no reason to believe that Caesar would honor this arrangement if we are already talking about breaking it,” Ophiuchus said. “It would simply become the first battle of many.” “It’s a better plan than any we’ve made so far,” Director Sekelksy said. “We might as well see if he accepts. If he doesn’t, we can move on to something else.” He turned to one of the people sitting behind him, a middle-aged woman in half-formal attire. “Catty Key, can you go outside the park and see if Caesar will play ball?” “Got it,” she said, and she turned around to leave through one of the stairways. Lachesis stood straight up. “Hey, actually, can I come with? I’ve got an idea that might solve that location problem.” Director Sekelsky glared at her, so she added, “I’m just a Thinker, Vic. What do you think I’m gonna do, brain her to death?” He sighed. “Excalibur, go with them too. Just in case.” A man in a suit of armor stood up and followed both Catty Key and Lachesis, who turned around and stuck her tongue out as she left back up the stairs. One of the Renegades on the opposite end of the table from all this also stood up. “I have an idea, too,” he said. “There’s word on the grapevine that the Moray Clan captured a few Gibbons capes this morning, Hellhound included. Is that correct?” More murmuring from the rest of the renegades. “My understanding is that it was a joint effort, actually,” Victor said. “Right, okay.” It appeared some contributions were greater than others. “So, like, did they have any Legion on them? Because we could use that. I mean, the Park is clouding my mind a little bit, but when I’m not being suppressed by forces beyond my control, I do Tinker with power alternation stuff. Nothing major; I’m not that good, but it might be possible to reverse the polarity on Legion’s power. Since wherever Legion is, Caesar --” ˈkae̯sar “-- is, we could make a pretty decent guess from there.” A few different people tried to speak up, but Ophiuchus got there first. “Why did you say his name like that?” “Force of habit. I live over there; it’s hard not to. What, do you want to raid my house too?” “I don’t want to give you access to Hellhound, basically on that reasoning alone,” Atropos said. “And I don’t want to give another Tinker access to Vambrace’s tech. Censer, though, if you can find some blood on her or something, sure.” “I’ll even take an escort with me if that bothers you,” the Renegade said. “Though I’ll let G3 choose it if you don’t mind. I’d still trust them more than you to not get in the way of my work.” She shrugged. “Sure. Vic?” “Alright,” Director Sekelsky said. “Override, go with the man.” “Minos can take you to where we are keeping them,” Ophiuchus said, taking his own opportunity. “Did not expect this to be a whole thing, but sure, so long as she stays out of the way, I guess.” He and Minos went back towards the elevators waiting for Override to join them. Stanley took charge of the meeting again. “So this what I’m gathering the plan is now:” he said, “This is a split offensive. We meet a portion of Caesar’s forces at a neutral location. Say, some place in the Arena District, while a portion conduct a raid at wherever location or possible locations these investigations confer on. Neither of these would require the full brunt of our combined power, so I suppose should we start by taking volunteers? Do people have a preference for one stage or the other? Or are there any other objections?” OOC

At least Shiki’s instructions were easier to find this time than some videotape hiding out in the back somewhere, Brian thought. Carmen seemed to echo his lack of enthusiasm, though given what little he knew of the girl, maybe that was just what she was like. He didn’t try and probe further into her or anything as they approached their destination building. He didn’t care to. The building itself looked innocuous enough besides the lack of police presence. An office space between a bakery and a barber could easily be used for both if the owners weren’t doing all their business needs on their laptops at the counters or whatever. Or it could be one of those rent-a-office type deals that Brian heard about years ago. Not that Brian was a big fan of renting in general, of course, but he only thought about it in his own terms. It wasn’t enough to just leave a building be haunted, especially based on speculation. Brian sighed. “We don’t even know what we’re dealing with,” he said. “And not even in a ‘demon or djinn or spirit’ way. Last time, we had a pretty good guess where the thing was. Didn’t have to poke around too many bathrooms before we found her. Let’s see what’s back here.” He gave the back of the van a once-over. The box of seals was still there -- it looked like it hadn’t even been touched since the night before. They were definitely taking that. He also grabbed a spirit radio, tossing it in the box and hefting the whole thing up. Once Carmen grabbed whatever she wanted as well, he headed inside. It smelled like capitalism in there, which was normal for an office, but still, not the greatest. Brian was so used to the academic airs of a library or the sweaty miasma of the gym that he had to take a few breaths to get acclimated. The actual appearance of the office was normal, too, with the aggressively twee posters and a printer that surely only worked half the time and open workspaces because something something cubicles bad. There was probably an article about that somewhere, and a research paper about socialization. “Well,” Brian said. “Let’s get started.” He placed the box of seals in the center of the room for convenient access, turned on the spirit radio, and started moving around, listening to the random static for any hint of a word, or anything else that might betray paranormal influence. So far there was nothing, but there was no reason to get discouraged yet.

And do not grumble, as some of them did -- and were killed by the destroying angel. -1 Corinthians 10:10 (NIV) Melissa eyed Fen’s cards with the same suspicion that Fiona did, but at least Melissa didn’t swear about it. For one thing, Fen had mostly managed her board state better than Melissa had. But she still had to do something. As she drew her card, she realized she could do a few things, actually. “Okay, I’ll set a monster here, and then activate this Sol and Luna we know about. It’ll flip my monster face-up and your Goblin Attack Force face-down again. I think I misspoke last time, sorry, um, my Magician of Faith should have been in Defense position before, but you played Final Attack Orders, so it all worked out in the end. This time, though, it’s this little guy.” She flipped the card over to reveal a Skelengel, whose Attack was boosted just as her Magician’s was by Terrors in the Hidden City. “And he has an effect that lets me draw a card, too.” She dutifully obeyed the clause of Final Attack orders before drawing her card. Before she could do anything else, though, Fiona jumped in. “You can have your card, but there’s no way I’m letting you keep that monster,” she said. “By discarding this cute little monster, I can destroy your… angel.” Fiona showed both Melissa and Fen her Ghost Ogre and Snow Rabbit, and it was Melissa’s turn to stare. She knew about hand traps, of course, but how many people actually played with them? It simply wasn’t done. Well, except for Kuriboh, of course, but that was a special case. Still, she dutifully put her Skelengel in her Graveyard and went back to staring at her hand. Without a normal summon, things just got a whole lot trickier. All of a sudden, Melissa felt extremely vulnerable. “I’ll set some more spells and traps, then,” she said. “Two of them. I guess that’s it for me.” Fiona smiled, “Alright, draw-” “Oh, but I do have an effect in your Standby Phase,” Melissa quickly jumped back in. “One of these face-downs is Acid Trap Hole, so we flip over your monster, and if its Defense is 2000 or less, we destroy it. Goblin Attack Force’s Defense is, uh, it’s zero, right?” Gone was the smile. “Almost poetic,” Fiona grumbled. Melissa didn’t know what that meant, but she nodded along all the same. “Sorry, um, you can continue with your turn now.” Fiona looked back at Melissa’s empty board and that wide smile came back. “I’ll summon a second Self-Destruct Ant,” she said. “And I’ll play this Gaia Power, raising its attack to 2000.” Melissa double-checked her Life Points. “Ah,” she whispered to herself. Fiona was coming after her after all, and in a way that technically kept her hostage in the game for as long as Fiona wanted. “Wait a second,” She reread Gaia Power and checked Fen’s board again. “Oh look, Fen, it affects your Nettles, too. It’s all the way up to 2200 Attack now.” Of course, Fiona wasn’t attacking the 2200 Attack Nettels. “I’ll attack Melissa directly,” she said. “Okay,” Melissa said. “But, um, the other Trap card I prepared was Waboku.” She revealed her other card, featuring maidens who some bully would have probably called Melissa’s long-lost sisters if Melissa ever frequented a public area where a bully might be present. They briefly materialized on the board with a heavenly song before disappearing, taking what remained of Fiona's battle phase with them. Fiona’s eyes just narrowed. “Wow. I guess that’s all then. I end my turn.” It wasn’t perfect, Melissa thought, but she was still in the game. It felt like they were on the cusp of, well, the cusp of something, at least. It was still possible that Fiona would just slam the door on both of them. Either way, Melissa still found herself enjoying it all, and she awaited the next few turns with bated breath.

“I’m fine,” Chris said. He didn’t need any healing in specific, though if Estellise could conjure up a nice warm bath or something, that would be great. Oh, and if Estellise or anyone else could get his dagger back from that one creature’s head, that would be great too. But there were small blessings. Everyone was together again like he’d wanted, and now they could see part of the dungeon a little bit better. There was still all this fog, but they had some light now. Would torches be useful in later runs? He wondered how many other preparations could be done, assuming everyone still wanted to explore with him after his plans for that night. Not that he could look too much further into the future. They were still in the middle of combat. Chris could see new shadowy figures dancing in the fog. Lana moved to the center of the room and tried the door. “Chris, the door is locked, do you think you could-” She got cut off by one of those creatures jumping out at her. Thankfully, Chris had already been heeding Lana’s other instruction, to be ready in case something jumped out, and though coming from behind one of the pillars of the building was not what Chris had been expecting, he’d still been ready enough to rush in. “I’m on your left!” He didn’t want to be a hypocrite and not warn his teammates. Chris took a running jump and whirled his weapons around, bringing them both down upon the monster’s arm, the same arm that had just struck his friend. That certainly got the thing’s attention, but Chris hopped back instead of staying within grabbing range, and stepped back behind Lana, getting a closer look at the door. “Oh, it’s one of these,” he said as he dropped down to be eye-level with the lock. This was the plan, huh? Well, he could oblige if everyone else was willing. “I can probably get this open, but you’re all going to have to watch my back as I do, ‘cause it’s going to take a bit.” It wasn’t that he didn’t trust them -- this wasn’t the first time he’d had to jig open a door while they kept him safe -- but just in case, he didn’t sheathe his dagger as he took out his lockpicks, instead keeping it in the same grip as his tension rod. If anything happened, he could whirl back around, but otherwise, he kept his full attention on the puzzle in front of him.

True to his word, Brian did everything he said he was going to do. Gym came first, because it was more convenient to shower after and just use that as the actual shower for the day, even if it meant trudging out of bed after only a few hours of sleep. It wasn’t enough time to get a stupid dream, at least. He kept his gym playlist in the instrumental section; it was one less distraction and let him think about the previous night a little bit more. This was the job, huh? He’d only been at this for one, maybe two weeks at most. Couldn’t some spiritual haunting happen during the daytime? Like, he didn’t really want that. He didn’t actually want Shiki to come barging into his daily routine and muck everything up, but also, despite desperately needing the job for personal, spiritual reasons (pun intended), so far he hated himself afterward every single time. Gym helped with that part, at least -- he could turn that hate into something productive. He was still sore from wrestling with that ghost last night. He’d already forgotten her name, so the ache was the only thing she’d left behind. Next was actual work, and since he had already had to rely on sheer discipline to make it through leg day, there was little left for the monotony of research and paperwork for more research. If he could actually comprehend a whole paragraph at a time, he’d have probably enjoyed these ancient tomes a lot more. Part of Brian was already anticipating having to read everything all over again. The applications got sent out okay, though. That could practically be done entirely by computer. There were a thousand little widgets that could lift all the book’s information and turn it into a request form. Brian just had to click what he wanted. It was still busywork, reading summaries and trying to glean if it was useful or not, but still. Brian didn’t go grocery shopping. He took a nap instead and put it off until tomorrow. What was Shiki going to do, obligate him to incur even more sleep debt by finding some other supernatural force to inflict upon him? And Carmen now, too? The amount of four-letter words he uttered when he saw Shiki’s message and, moments later, Shiki’s van parked outside his apartment was immeasurable. He still put on a jacket and went to it, but each step earned an extra one. “Fine,” he said -- another four-letter word -- as he reached the driver’s side door. “Alright, let’s do this.” Once Brian had actually parsed Shiki’s handwriting, following the instructions was easy enough. It was hard to go wrong with “turn left” and “turn right” even if that was all that really was written down. He spotted Carmen right where Shiki had said she’d be and rolled down his window as she approached. “Hey,” he said. “Hopefully you had a better day than I did, because I bet it’s about to get a whole lot worse.”

C.A.T.: Cyber Attack Team Stubbs the Zombie in Rebel Without a Pulse

“It is still just a bruise, however!” Quinn said, even as he thrust his shirt back down to cover their injury. “It only hurt when I touched it, and only a little. Rest assured, Belladonna, this is nowhere near the worst thing a Pokémon has done to me.” Quinn tightened his grip on Cassiopeia’s strings. “Besides, we have come to an understanding. I see no reason to think they would do so again.” With zir free hand, Quinn took the berry and inspected it. If they remembered his berry charts correctly, it would be a useful boon for later, especially since she had already had to use a potion on Cassiopeia so early into the journey. And if xe did not, surely fae would be able to find a replacement chart at another town or otherwise find a way to look up such information. She felt Cassiopeia tugging again. “Oh, would you like to hold it? Very well, I see no reason why you should not. Perhaps you will be able to tell me what it does, then.” Cassiopeia went to consume the berry right away and Quinn had to pull her back. “Later, you silly balloon! When you need it! We are already on our way to a Pokémon Center. You will be polished clean and ready for action before you know it.” The trip to the Pokémon Center was uneventful, but then, all three of them had already cut such a swath through the route, leaving little in their wake, that now that the time came to retrace their steps, there was little left to encounter. Other trainers were still licking their wounds, and any further wild Pokémon stayed well inside the bounds of the taller grass. It was the first time Quinn used the Center, though, which turned into a whole thing. “Cassiopeia, return to your Pokéball so the nice nurse can heal your wounds,” Quinn said for what felt like the seventeenth time. But the Balloon Pokémon acted in her nature instead, stubbornly drifting to the corner of the ceiling furthest from her trainer. The nurse was only offering as much help as she could without getting out from behind the counter. “We do accept Pokémon who have rejected a Pokéball for one reason or another,” she said in a rather joyful voice that betrayed a hint of laughter. “The healing process is slightly different, but it is just as effective.” “No, I am the one who prefers to keep her outside her ball,” Quinn said. “She-” He took another running leap to try and grab at Cassiopeia’s strings but got nowhere near enough height. “She is perfectly fine with it on most occasions, and she needs to learn to be alright with this if our journey is to continue. We just started our Pokémon adventure today!” “Really?” the nurse said. “I couldn’t tell!” Quinn tried another jump, missed, and gasped when they hit the ground, feeling the bruise once again. The nurse noticed, and her demeanor changed. “We also offer our clinical services to trainers. Perhaps you can both get looked at at the same time,” she said. Quinn stared at Cassiopeia, who was no longer fidgeting in the corner but was now drifting just far enough away that she could react to another wild grab if Quinn tried it. “Will you get in your ball if I get looked at with you?” Quinn said. “Please, Cassiopeia.” Fae held out the ball, and Cassiopeia, with one of her handstrings, tapped its button and allowed herself to be sucked in. Treatment for its injury was about as simple as Quinn could hope for. While the Poké Center worked its magic on Quinn’s two Pokémon, the nurse and a Chansey wrapped Quinn’s stomach “In a few days, you can use a rag soaked with hot water as a compress,” the nurse explained. “It will encourage blood flow, which will help shrink the bruise.” Quinn did not have the heart to tell the nurse about her condition and how that too might affect the healing process but accepted the advice all the same. Normandie and Cassiopeia finished right at the same moment, and Quinn accepted them back as well, though they kept Cassiopeia in her ball for the time being. “Well, my friends,” Quinn said as they exited the center and returned to Nathaniel and Belladonna. “Now that I have caught a Pokémon and we are all healed up, I suppose we have a lot of training to do. Normandie still has to get used to fighting with a trainer, after all, and while Cassiopeia and I have performed well so far, we are clearly still both novices. Let us return to our adventure!”

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.

Chris saw his dagger strike true, but it didn’t have the desired effect of grabbing its attention away from Estellise. Well, killing it would have been the true preferred outcome, but he wasn’t so cocksure at this point in his dungeon-delving career to expect things to go down in one hit from a measly dagger. No, the thing kept moving towards Estellise, and the only thing that stopped its advance was one of Estellise’s light arrows. He breathed a sigh of relief for two reasons. Estellise was no longer crying out in pain (and had enough wherewithal to let loose one of her magic arrows), and they had once again driven the thing back into the fog. “Don’t look it in the eyes, got it,” he said. Would he be able to follow that advice, though? He thought about how often he had to read people in his normal job, trying to sus out who was offering something worth considering and who was just leading him on, trying to take advantage of his youth and perceived inexperience. He looked people in the eyes for just that reason. And that wasn’t to mention all those years of etiquette training he’d had to go through. Some of that was instinctive now despite his best efforts. At the same time, there was no use worrying about it now. As much as he wanted to go rushing after the thing and get his dagger back, this was the second time it had shown up after wading through the fog. “It’ll be back,” he said. “Let’s go get the others, it’ll be easier to deal with if we’re all together. It can only look at one of us, right? Lana’s right there, and then Ziun…” He squinted, looking past the girl. “Yeah, he’s just past there.” It looked like he was fighting something, actually. Chris kept his sword drawn and brandished his second dagger with his off-hand. “We should hurry.”

A Report To The Shareholders / Kill Your Masters The building in the center of Goodale Park only appeared modest from the outside. Crossing the threshold past the briefest veneers of normalcy led to a series of elevators that went down into an open meeting area. The central table was illuminated by a series of lights matching the table's ring shape, and indicators of just where each faction was meant to sit were posted at proportional distances away from each other. The Gibbons section, naturally, was devoid of any members of that particular gang and was instead filled by renegades that had heeded the call of an S-Class threat. There were non-perishable snacks on another table off to the side and one of the walls was a map of Scarlet City with all the various factions' territory claims marked out. Also on the walls, just next to each elevator, were the stairwells that led up to the surface. There was signage next to each of them detailing which building basement they came up into, each building close to, but still outside Goodale Park's influence. One led to a bookshop. Another led to the pit of a nearby theater. Etcetera, etcetera. It took a moment -- longer, perhaps, than anyone might have expected -- for everyone to file in and find their place, but Stanley wasn’t about to waste any time. “Alright,” he said. When that did little to quell the idle chatter, he produced a small gavel and banged it on the table. “Alright! First thing’s first, a sanity check. Where’s DEUS?” “Out east,” someone said. “Dunno what he was doing, was too busy looking for Gibbons activity out there. There isn’t any, by the way. Most, if not all of the Gibbons Gang has pulled back west. There were a few skirmishes, but no casualties.” “We’ve already hauled in three, dunno where that number is coming from,” Atropos chimed in. “Yeah, and my friend got jumped on their way here,” said another. “She’s got regeneration, but she’s still recovering. I bet there are more than just them, too, if you thought to ask.” Stanley sighed. “We’re skipping ahead a bit, though our condolences, of course, to Lady Scarlet. I suppose this means I can skip the obvious preamble and move straight to the meat of the discussion. In a similar vein, where is Caesar?” He pronounced the name as one might expect. “You are saying this because you believe Caesar” -- Ophiuchus pronounced it just the same way -- “has transcended his status as a gang leader and is now an S-Class threat.” It wasn’t a question, rather, it was clear that Ophiuchus cared more about procedure even at a time like this. “You are invoking clauses in several treaties to gather us together, to work to restore Scarlet City to what it was before this incident.” “To what it was as best we’re able, sans the existential threat,” Director Sekelsky said. “Correct,” Stanley said before the oneupmanship on technicalities got any further (disappointing Lachesis who’d already had her mouth open ready to speak -- she slouched back down in her chair instead). “So I ask again: The most direct route to such circumstances would be the removal -- whether that be apprehension or destruction -- of Caesar himself. Does anybody know where he is?” A renegade chimed in on the discussion. “How can we be sure just killing Caesar is all we’d need to do to resolve this S-class? Isn’t Gibbons the largest gang in the city? Wouldn’t a second-in-command just take over the work of the first? Or worse, what if the two other gangs start fighting over new territory?” “Well, again, we’ve already captured his second,” Atropos said. “As for the territory stuff…” She let a smile and a shrug answer the second question. Stanley seized upon her pause to regain control. “There was territory squabbling before Caesar, and it’ll be there after Caesar is dead too. Those actions would be covered over treaty agreements that are not necessary for this discussion. Now, staging a raid on his casino is the obvious first step, though that is not without its problems. “That’s what he’d be expecting,” Clotho said. “Like, he’s an idiot, but I’m pretty sure he’d be able to conceive of ‘attack the big shiny thing closely associated with myself.’” “Plus, he’s not even there, but we got that from Hellhound. I guess you don’t have to believe them, but that’s still two points against in abstract.” Director Sekelsky stepped in. “It doesn’t do us much good to underestimate our enemy anyway. Caesar does have a number of advantages on us, too. As long as he has Legion near him, for example, he can look over the whole city. We won’t exactly be sneaking up on him no matter what we do.” “Well, I’m not advocating a defensive approach either,” Stanley said. “I don’t think Caesar will come to us.” He took a breath, clearly an affectation thanks to his inorganic body, but it was still a pause in the meeting. “So, my proposal, then, is to work by process of elimination. Raiding the casino still makes sense to deprive Caesar of what resources we can, but we can also stage attacks on other buildings in his territory. Warehouses, potential safehouses, wherever he might be.” “Hold on,” Lachesis said. “Are you suggesting we just attack random buildings in hopes of gaining more information from whoever’s in there?” “It would be by process of elimination, yes,” Stanley said. “If we cannot find Caesar at his most likely hideaways, we would have to check other areas in his territory. You have an objection to this?” “Just a small one that, I don’t know, people live in those buildings? People who aren’t necessarily involved with Gibbons but just happen to be in their territory?” “That could be mitigated,” Director Sekelsky said. “We could have our fliers drop pamphlets, for example, outlining our plan. Anyone who remains in the area is someone we can assume wants to -- or is ordered to -- be there.” “You’re assuming a lot about the sort of people that live in a gang’s territory, Vic, if you think these people have somewhere else to go.” There was a murmur in the crowd. “Well, we can open that up for discussion, then,” Stanley said. “That’s what we’re here for, after all. Does anyone else have any thoughts on this suggested plan? Or any other plans to find Caesar and resolve this S-Class threat?” OOC

n.u.d.e.@natural ultimate digital experiment steel battalion marc ecko's getting up: contents under pressure dead or alive xtreme beach volleyball

Nathaniel was taller, certainly worked out more than Quinn did, and was also, well, alive, but Quinn did its best to keep up all the same. It was not like they were out of shape. He had spent time with Cassiopeia wandering the outskirts of Eterna City in preparation for her journey, and besides that, back when xe was mortal, zey had been a rather active youth. All this together meant that while Quinn did fall behind, Quinn did not fall too far behind, and was there in time for Pokémon Ranger Black to introduce himself. Meeting a Pokémon Ranger was a new experience. She had not been sure what she had been expecting, having never in the past needed their services (Perhaps some had been assigned to his rescue mission? That would seem likely, though Quinn would not have known for a number of factors, including having died in the meantime). Fae still did require such services, to be fair, as ey had explained several times to both Belladonna and Nathaniel in the meantime. The experience was still exciting, however. Belladonna seemed to recognize Pokémon Ranger Black as part of an entire task force from Hoenn, which meant they were dealing with Pokémon Ranger royalty! Unfortunately, just as soon as Quinn had formed such a thought, Pokémon Ranger Black was chased away by another, more mundane member of the occupation. Quinn could not help but wonder if this second ranger was simply a hanger-on, trying to improve their credibility by association. Did Rangers not follow the same all-encompassing “dibs” rule? It did not matter. “I do not actually need help,” Quinn said. “I am only following my companions at the moment, though I would like to visit a Pokémon Center when convenient. Cassiopeia here has been through a lot already, and we would not want her to faint on the first grand step of our adventure would we? “And let me assure you, I am not injured! It is true I was attacked, but look!” Quinn lifted his shirt, showing just where Normandie had rammed herself into his stomach. Cassiopeia jerked in Quinn’s other and, and Quinn’s voice grew quiet. “...Oh, that is quite the bruise.” It had developed quickly, all blotchy in places, and its several different colors stood out all the more on such fair skin. Quinn reached out and touched the impact site and immediately regretted that decision, pulling back her hand and sucking through hir teeth. “Perhaps Dark types being super-effective against Ghosts is a truer maxim than we thought…”

I'll Autumn for them for sure

Again, Chris had to get out of the way of someone charging to his aid. At least Lana wasn’t running in point-first like Ziun did (it would be pretty hard to do so with an axe, he reckoned), and he was sure neither Ziun nor Lana wanted to hurt him (right?), but accidents happened. “Thanks,” he said, “say something next time, though, so I don’t get an arm chopped off. You’re getting better with that axe -- want to stay out of the way of that.” Despite his grievance, Chris found himself in a small break in the action, with enough time to recoup and adjust his grip on his sword as he took in the surroundings again. Ziun was facing away from him into the fog, his stance like there was some other enemy that Chris couldn’t see. After some brief acknowledgments, Lana moved away too, looking not like she was about to attack, but just playing defense, getting between whatever it was and Ziun with her axe brandished, at the ready for whatever came. Chris might have gone over to help her too, but on their other flank with him and Estellise was a big, more visible (to him) problem. The creature that had introduced itself as they’d entered the dungeon floor was back. Chris nearly pointed at it with his sword again, but Estellise was already looking right at it. He actually sheathed his sword as he formulated a plan. This was something they probably had to fight at a distance, something Estellise was better suited for than he was, but he wasn’t without options. How many daggers could a whatever-this-thing-was possibly take, anyway? Speaking of, “Estellise, do you know what this thing is?” Not that Chris needed to wait for an answer. He pulled out his first dagger and lobbed it at the thing’s head.

“Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others.” -Philippians 2:3-4 (NIV) Melissa wasn’t entirely sure what Fiona meant by there being more Fiona could teach her, but the game was quickly underway, so she was able to distract herself from overthinking that particular problem. “Uh, draw for turn,” she said. Of course, she was still trying to figure out the rules for this version of dueling, but she was getting there. “Well, first I’ll play this spell Terrors in the Hidden City, which is a Continuous Spell with three different effects -- one for my face-down monsters, one for monsters that are flipped up, and one when it's sent to the Graveyard. I can't attack this turn so I'll set a Monster, which, um, because of the first effect Hidden City, can't be targeted by any of your effects, and then I’ll set one more card face-down too.” Fiona eyed Melissa’s board. “Oh, what a scary card, I wonder how I'll get over that…” She drew her card and smiled. “Well, I guess first thing’s first. I flip this Monster into Attack mode.” The monster took the form of an ant but with a cartoon bomb instead of an abdomen. Melissa had to read the card to actually remember its name: Self-Destruct Ant. She managed just in time before the bomb exploded in her face. “When it comes out, we each take one thousand damage. Sure I get a bit hurt but that's the price you pay I suppose.” The exploding ant had reformed itself already and was now looking menacingly between Melissa’s face-down monster and Fen’s Inmato. But Fiona wasn’t finished. “I’ll also play this nice bunch: Goblin Attack Force!” Melissa knew that one. Even when starting at eight thousand Life Points, she remembered it being a menace of the schoolyard before archetypes became too synergistic for it to keep up. With only four thousand, well, that just meant it was twice as bad, didn’t it? “First I will have my Ant destroy that, uh, tomato!” Fiona said. The ant surged forward, though notably it didn't go into Fen’s field like their duel in the park, and chomped the air. Fen looked at her face-down card, then back at her hand, then at her face-down again. “I, uh, I activate Reinforcements, to, well, reinforce my Inmato’s attack by five hundred.” Fiona’s smile didn’t even waver, even as the image of the and shattered and she placed it in her Graveyard. “Ah well, my Ant is destroyed, but you still take a thousand damage for it thanks to its effect,” she said. “Your tomato’s not strong enough for my Goblins, though, so why don’t you take this one?” That was where Melissa stepped in. “That’s a bit too much. I can respond here,” she said. “My face-down is Sol and Luna, which means my monster and your goblin are going to swap positions, basically. So yours goes to face-down Defense position and mine gets flipped face-up. My monster is Magician of Faith, which will allow me to get the Sol and Luna I just spent back to my hand. Also, uh, this is the second effect of my Hidden City card. Because Magician of Faith was flipped face-up, it gets an extra fifteen hundred Attack and Defense. I guess you could target it now, though, if you wanted.” For a split second, Melissa felt Fiona glaring at her, though Melissa didn’t dare look up to see what her face was actually like. “Oh, what scary cards,” Fiona said again, as if a Magician of Faith could ever be scary. “I suppose set this card then and end my turn.” Melissa looked over to her group leader and current duel partner, “Alright, then it’s your turn, Fen,” she said. “Remember, we know what that face-down is, but I can only try to guess at the other ones.” OOC

“I’m not opening a random ass-fridge in a camper van,” Brian said, “even if it is technically from my boss. Especially if it’s from my boss, actually. Not that Taco Bell is much better, but at least I can imagine some minimum-wage schmuck making a chalupa or whatever.” He looked Shiki up and down. “I can’t imagine you making food. Do you even eat?” He sighed. “I’m just tired. It’s, like, four in the morning. I just want to collapse into bed and get any amount of sleep before tomorrow comes and I have to do all this shit I keep putting off. I’ve got library books I have to place an application for, groceries to shop for, and, to top it all off, I have leg day tomorrow, and we all know how bad it is to skip those. I can drive, you can drive, fucking Carmen can drive if she wants, but fuck, let me go home, okay?” Shiki said something about him and Carmen forging a bond. What, was Shiki shipping them or something? What a terrible idea. You don’t have relationships with coworkers. Everybody knew that. The relationship inevitably fizzled, leaving an awkward tension that got in the way of everything. He’d seen it happen. Even the smartest of the smarties in academia who thought it might work for them fell prey to the same story. He looked at Carmen. “Um, no,” he said. “I’ll be fine just seeing her for work. I mean, I guess I can give you my number for convenience, Carmen, but the best I can offer is being a gym buddy or something. No offense, of course.”