Bartimaeus

Pokemon: Dream

Ripley Lennox

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Mentions: Clarissa (@Crusader Lord) Location: Camphor's Lab

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Ripley was instantly enthralled by the sight and promise of these "special" pokedexes. He'd always wanted to set out on the world, pokedex and partner at his side to see what the world have to offer. So, as one was put towards him, he immediately took it and booted it up, diligently taking in what it had to say.

"Ahaha, it's so cute!" He commented aloud to the group, barely being able to tear his eyes off it as he pointed to it in its novelty.

He was, immediately after its info drop on his beloved partner, finicking with the screen and any buttons he could find, filtering through the various apps and settings in an excited exploration of the new technology bestowed upon him. He was never much of a techie himself, but countless young souls thought of a pokedex as a dream-tool for any aspiring trainer. It was truly invaluable. And this one was even playful, to boot! His thorough inspection of the device was interrupted only by the delivery of a small carepackage, containing a couple potions and a few pokeballs, to his person. Which he accepted gratefully, a smile on his face as his head dipped lightly in thanks.

After that, he tuned back into Camphor's dismissal of the group, offering them the last bits of info they needed. Hopefully he wasn't forgetting anything important that he needed to ask - though, there was so much to think about for such an expansive and unknown journey that it was likely he indeed was. Either way, if he really needed to ask something, there was always Camphor's number on the 'dex. The consequences of using it, well.. hopefully he wouldn't have to find out. It was probably something like eight-million pushups..

Either way, once they got back to reception it seemed everyone would be thinking about their next steps. As they walked, Ripley couldn't help but feel energy buzzing through his legs. He was brimming with a desire to get out there. But, if one thought about it.. where was the rush? He and Zorua had all the time in the world to explore wherever they wanted. So maybe they could take it a little slower - after all, he never even left Rivenwall, and all 'the sudden they were in Byjerlfal, of all places! As the others debated their next steps, so did Ripley, internally, as his companion skittered about.

Said companion seemed to be doing its own exploring as it paddled about beneath the other trainers, examining them each briefly and managing to catch their plans in the process. Nobody could really tell what was going through the creature's mind, but Pokémon had their own way of thinking that led them to gravitate towards whatever it was they gravitated towards. And in this case, it seemed an offer from one of their fellow trainers interested the little thing. As Ripley stood not-at-all still, thinking as he flexed his calves subconsciously in anticipation of their departure, Zorua pattered up to him and nudged him to draw his attention.

The boy's attention shifted downward towards his companion and drew the conclusion, based of its gestures towards her, that it wished to accompany.. Clarissa, was it? in her offer. Ripley had heard the couple-of offers so far, and was currently taking them into account as he tried to decide what their first course of action should be. He had yet to decide - but if Zorua wanted to go down a particular route, well.. what reason had he to deny her? His gaze shifted back upwards and towards Clarissa. Hmm. Well, she didn't seem like a stickler for fun, at the very least! ..He hoped. But, it seemed she was interested in scoping out some more urban-based Pokémon - and he was definitely not going to scoff at that!

In truth, he himself had never really planned on what sort of companions he had been hoping for, in terms of Pokémon - he more-so just expected certain Pokémon to.. make their way into his life, if ever a thing were to happen. He knew there were trainers who treated the capture of Pokémon more like a collection of sorts, and he supposed he could see the gratification in that. But he wasn't the sort of person to limit himself in such ways. That is not say he was not the type to not have a type - he had some ideas in his head, in terms of Pokémon-interest. Really, who wouldn't? Living in Rivenwall, he had seen many-a 'mon brought to fight in the tournaments they held there. Some of them more exotic - but the ones that were domestic to the area were those with which he could grow to appreciate the profile of, being as knowable as they were. Being that they were mostly urban Pokémon in Rivenwall, and he had never owned a pokeball to catch them, it was only natural that Rip was just dying to get his hands on at least one of them - so he might have plans parallel to the pink-haired girl himself.

But for now, he'd see about addressing the matter at hand. Breaking out of his thought bubble, Ripley took it upon himself to approach the offer casually, walking up to Clarissa until her attention visually shifted to him. His features rose as he offered a smile in greeting. "Heya- Clarissa, yeah? I wouldn't mind waitin' around for a day if you're lookin' for a partner or two!" He spoke, looking down to his side as Zorua skittered up between the two trainers, eyes affixed upwards towards Clarissa in hopefulness. "Pa's always said I need to cool my heels when it comes to making big decisions, so maybe that day could be what I need for the journey-ta-come. Well - if you'll have us, of course!" He finished, a hint of considerate hesitation creeping into his last few words. He'd understand if someone as.. loud as him was unappreciated as a partner - he had been confronted with such scenarios before -- but it'd never stop him from trying. Even if he was denied, he still had Zorua, and that was more than enough for him, in the end.

Recollections: Who Is Eleanor Black [CANCELLED]

Zeltzin Sandoval

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Mentions: None Location: Webb Family Coffee House / Summit Motel

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Zeltzin audibly scoffed - not purposefully, but reactionarily - at the mention of silver bullets and ghosts. She set her mug to the side on a small singles table next to her as she shook her head at the notion. She had heard about enough of what she needed from this meeting - it seemed they were all serious about heading into the swamp. She wasn't sure if it was the right path to their end goal, but really it seemed nobody did, so she might as well try it. It couldn't hurt - or, at least probably wouldn't.

The notion of acquiring protection from the swamp's elements was an appealing one, and she was pretty sure she had seen a small gun shop at least once as she rode through the town. But there was something else itching at her as she planned our her route. So far, there were a lot of warnings and contextual signs that would naturally lead one to believe the swamp was more dangerous than just gators - they alone were unlikely to harm humans. Sure, cry wolf and all that. But there seemed to be too much crying for there to be no ground for the claims to stand on. Maybe there was something in that swamp - maybe some fucked-up buffalo-bill character - or some super-gator or some shit - who knew? Zeltzin didn't plan on getting flayed by anything, be it gator or serial killer, so she'd make sure to be prepared even if it meant wasting a bit of green to do so.

She didn't stick around for lengthy goodbyes, leaving her mug on the table and making off through the front door to reconvene with her motorcycle.

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A short bit later, Zeltzin rolled up to the Summit Motel, her bike rumbling beneath her as she drew it into a spot and disengaged it. In the hour that it'd taken the lot of them to collect themselves, she had taken a trip to a local gunstore and made a quick transaction with the owner - a bit of an older guy - that was honestly rather painless. She'd scraped together any money she'd brought with her, totaling to a few hundred dollars in cash, and found something that would be suitable for gators, at the least. Resting on her back was a lengthy, black canvas bag. Inside it was a side-by-side breach-loading shotgun - not brand new, but in solid condition - something that was definitely serviceable for any mundane tasks they might have to undergo, like clearing a gator off a path or something. Assuming the swamp even had any paths leading to the manor.

She wasn't sure what preparations the others had made, but she only really accounted for herself. After she dismounted the bike with a restrained grimace, she popped open one of the saddlebags and plucked out a drawstring bag weighted with a couple water bottles, a box of assorted shotgun shells, and all her knives packed inside.

Looking around, it seemed a handful of them were already reconvening with one another. Her eyes were drawn to the silhouette of Ophrenia, a bare shotgun slung over her shoulder as she arrived. A part of her felt a little queasy about the idea of trusting the girl with a gun. Either way, she didn't exactly expect another of her party to bring a long-gun along, but she could've never known what the others would think of. It seemed a bit redundant, assuming all they would be trouble by was gators - which Zeltzin very-much surmised would be the case - but, if they split up for any reason, at least it would be useful in that regard.

For the time being, she took it upon herself to rest her butt against the seat of her bike as she sat back against its side and waited for the rest of their squad to arrive.

Recollections: Who Is Eleanor Black [CANCELLED]

Zeltzin Sandoval

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Mentions: None Location: Summit Hotel / Webb Family Coffee House

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Waking up with Ophrenia already gone was, honestly, a blessing. It meant Zeltzin could handle her morning routine alone and without interruption. Said routine started with her sitting up in bed and thinking over the events of yesterday, the thoughts turning in her head as she shook it in a measure of disappointment. Why couldn't this just be something simple?

There was a moment of pause as she sat there, legs hanging over the side of the bed, before a sharp grimace developed on Zeltzin's face. She was quick to reach over to her suitcase and wrench one of its zippers to the side, digging into a pocket in search for something, with the faintest hint of a tremor in her hand. It was a moment before the rattle of a bottle-of-pills made itself apparent. She was quick to dump an unidentifiable number of pills into her mouth, dry. For a moment after, she sat with a grimace as one hand woefully massaged her right thigh. After a time, the agony calmed and she took it upon herself to stand up, and get ready for the day.

She did so somewhat slowly, as was usual, but unlike every other day, there was a hint of purpose to her morning regimen.

After a bit, she was ready to take her bike and join the other at the Webb Coffee House, where she did little more than listen and offer what little 'info' she and Ophrenia had gathered at the Black Mining Co. Office.

Nothing that was said at the congregation was much cause to raise brows for Zeltzin - it all seemed to fit within reasonable quotations. Neko's suspicion - Jen's suspiciousness - all in likely course. Zeltzin had to admit, Jen might've seemed suspicious in certain lights - but she didn't fully trust anyone here anyway. So it was really all the same. But Jen did manage to explain herself some, at least.

Going into the swamp wasn't something she expected them to plan though. She didn't mind too harshly - she was more accustomed to swampy environments than any present city-dwellers - but losing her other leg to a gator or her life to a Cottonmouth didn't seem exactly ideal. Though, thinking on it, it was far from the worst way to go.

The topic of weapons did pique her interest, notably. She did like weapons. Unfortunately, she hadn't the need of a firearm for a long time - Eleanor had made sure of that - and Zeltzin had never found it necessary to acquire one after her disappearance. Her mind flicked to the saddlebags of her bike, where she carried a small armory of large knives -- for recreational purposes. Obviously, a firearm would be ideal if one had to defend themself from a gator or clear out a snake, but a nigh-foot-long blade was better than nothin'. She had mind to maybe search for a piece from a local store, but she wasn't sure if she'd even brought the green to do so. If she recalled correctly, Louisiana didn't require a permit, so she'd have to take a look around.

She took a long gulp of the hot coffee from her mug as she watched the proceedings of her.. comrades from a slightly-distanced chair.

Pokemon: Dream

Ripley Lennox

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Mentions: Everyone Location: Camphor's Lab

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Ripley was amongst the first to enter the lab, being that he was doing more skipping than walking. He matched Frieda's lead as the group entered the outwardly-dull-looking building. His eyes took in the initial reception area of the building as they entered, the inner style being much more pleasant on the eye. He had to admit, the styles of the big city were a lot more enjoyable than some of the more utilitarian-industrial designs that'd make sense in Rivenwall. He smiled lightly at the cozier nature of the room they were greeted with.

He absent-mindedly released his suitcase from his grip and let it rest near the doors. Zorua pounced off the luggage and zipped right along beside Ripley as his skips came to a halt in the middle of the room, his hands coming to rest on his hips. "Hmm.. I must admit, the design is unexpected! I expected it to look like a hospital or something." He said to nobody in particular as he turned around to face the group, which had unexpectedly almost doubled at the door. Upon scanning all their faces, and the ones of the trio sitting at a nearby table, he took it upon himself to take position at one of the more central tables, opting to sit himself on top of the table instead of in any chairs. His partner-in-crime leapt up on the table in similar fashion and immediately goblin'd away one of the snacks and started to nibble at it.

Rip turned his attention towards the three strangers as his feet kicked lightly below his perch upon the table. In classic Ripley fashion, he took it upon himself to address them openly across the room, even if one of them was seemingly completely conked out. "Heya! You guys in the same boat as our lot, huh?" He asked to the trio as he looped his finger through the air in reference to the group he had entered with. "We get to be guinea pigs! For money!" He said, his eyebrows lifting excitedly.

Well, maybe guinea pig wasn't the exact term.. but it was close enough.

Recollections: Who Is Eleanor Black [CANCELLED]

Zeltzin Sandoval

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Mentions: @silvermist1116(Ophrenia), @Punished GN(GM) Location: Black Mining Co. Main Office

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Zeltzin's brow rose a few slight degrees at the pause that followed her query. But her expression grew into flat annoyance at what followed. Of course he wouldn't be helpful - she could've bet money on that. She supposed he could've genuinely had no clue what they were talking about, but it was.. unlikely, to say the least. With the noteworthy pause, and the clear same-last-name thing in a town as small as this, it was clearly not coincidence. Which meant that, even though he told them nothing, he told them something. There was something to hide here.

But how was Eleanor something to hide? That she had to know.

In a time past, the presence of a witness would've meant something in a situation like this but, even still, it had admittedly been a while since Zeltzin had put on her.. charms. Eleanor had made sure of that. But in any case, it was clear that Callum wasn't going to give them anything. She began to turn away as she allowed a knowing glare to stick onto Callum for a second or two. After the moment she turned and began to step towards the door with Ophrenia, shifting her shoulders to adjust her jacket. Had she really thought they'd get solid results from this place, her frustration might've led her to spit on the floor at Callum's feet in anger - but this, while uninformative, was at least a little revealing.

What they would do with the knowledge that Callum - or in other words, the Black family - was hiding something? She didn't know quite yet. But she'd figure it out. Well, they'd figure it out.

Zeltzin didn't speak another word until they were out of earshot. It being obvious that they wouldn't get what they wanted here, it was better not to reveal anything about themselves in case they were to run into Callum again later. Which she had a feeling they would, considering the size of the town and, well, the fact that they were looking for a Black-family-member.

This time she held the door open for Ophrenia as she held back the urge to facepalm. "Que mierda, Ophrenia.. you're really not good at this.."

Recollections: Who Is Eleanor Black [CANCELLED]

Zeltzin Sandoval

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Mentions: @silvermist1116(Ophrenia), @Punished GN(GM) Location: Black Mining Co. Main Office

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The look on Zeltzin's face remained still as her eyes shifted over to the source of Callum's voice. Her eyes scanned over him briefly, taking in his classically-inspired visage and the contents of his hands. She listened as he introduced himself, silently discarding the theatrical aspects of the way in which he did so. Cogs began to work as he started asking questions, as one naturally would when confronted with such an accusation as they were presenting. In truth she supposed the charade was just so they could get an audience with someone who'd know something about Eleanor - but when Ophrenia immediately dropped the act at the first sign of friction, Zeltzin's eyebrows rose in surprise. A part of her felt the need to facepalm, but she supposed it ultimately didn't matter - aside from their initial image seeming rather.. untrustworthy now. But perhaps that was inevitable.

Zeltzin rolled her eyes at Ophrenia's assertion, admittedly slightly amused at it, and lifted her hand from the desk as she started to step alongside it towards Callum, pushing Ophrenia out of her way with her elbow slightly. She let her hands lift up slightly at her waist in a preemptively placating gesture as she moved closer to Callum - though not too close - so as to avoid talking through the lady at the desk. She made no move to hide her limp as she did so, and her face was no longer one stained-irate - instead it was replaced by her usual neutral-if-irascible countenance. She looked into Callum's face before she dipped her head in admission as she began to speak, her hands splaying out on either side in a concession-esque gesture. "Alright, yeah- like she said, the damage's fake." She began, lowering her hands to her side once again. "But we ain't tryna scam you, if that's what you're thinkin', Sr. Black."

The respectful designation wasn't usual for Zeltzin, but shows of respect, no matter how small, were often a good way to get things you wanted. She didn't know what kind of man Callum was - just that he was a member of the Black family - but maybe he'd appreciate it. "I apologize for the trickery - we, just, ah.. we wanted an audience with anybody who could enlighten us as to the current.. status of a member of your family." She stopped for a second, hesitation evident as her eyes shifted downwards. There was a pause before her gaze rose again, this time her eyes steeled in determination. "Where is Eleanor Black?"

Augmented Machine Mobile Armor: A Gundam and Armored Core-inspired Mecha RP

Shrike

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Pilot

• Name: Caveira Allo
• Callsign: Shrike
• Age: 23
• Gender: Female (Biologically male)
• Appearance:
  Caveira's appearance is known to some, but not all. This is due to the fact that she, as often as she doesn't, wears an odd mask that obscures her face. Said mask is a technologically-infused piece of alloy of her own design, and is often accompanied by a feathered hood that aids in her supposed desire to veil her appearance. If one were to look under the mask, however, they would find someone who doesn't quite match what their outer visage might suggest.
  
  Beneath her darkly-paletted, masked outer-shell, Caveira looks mostly like a normal person, even if she's rather androgynous. Her long, black hair frames her heart-shaped face loosely, with her bangs often resting between her eyes, or occasionally getting in the way of them. Said eyes are large and expressive, and possess a light, minty-emerald tone to them. Her skin, while clear, is pale and dull - except for a few dark tattoos that run across her cheekbones, beneath her eyes. In final account of her facial features, it is often easy to determine her current emotions, as her eyes and dark eyebrows are awfully expressive, unbeknownst to her - though this can sometimes be useful, as her somehow-pale-and-dark appearance is well-suited to looking more intimidating than she often means.
  
  Aside from her face, Caveira is, physically, not intimidating at all. She is somewhat petite, standing at 5'5" and weighing about 145lbs. Though it would be difficult for anyone to gauge it, with her wardrobe being quite unrevealing, Caveira is actually pretty toned, despite her small stature - with particular focus to her biceps, abs, and thighs - the result of many years of laborious work and routine workouts. Her most particular physical feature, however, is the nature of her left arm - which has been replaced by a matte-gray, cybernetic limb.
  
  Additionally, although it is not a feature of her physical appearance, one of the most immediate things one would notice about Caveira is the neutral, croaking rasp of her voice - much akin to something like light smoker's voice - something that, much to her chagrin, draws more than a few stares.
  
  All biology aside, though she can seem somewhat odd, Caveira carries herself neutrally, but readily - shoulders even, head on a swivel, and muscles half-tense at all times. A nature she has picked up from her years amongst the outer colonies.
• Personality:
  If one had to describe Caveira in few words, one of them would most definitely be adventurous. Many things she does are simply for the experience itself. Discovering new horizons is one of her many specialties - and she will readily take up a challenge if it means flexing her explorative or technological prowess - not to show off, but to test and improve herself for the next adventure.
  
  However, few can or are willing to adventure to the lengths she will - which has left her, for the most part, socially deprived for long periods at a time. Not that she minds - she more often than not takes on a lone-wolf mentality - but it does cause her to be somewhat awkward when it comes to casually conversing with others, and she is often socially apprehensive.
  
  Aside from these main features, she is very much so a multi-faceted personality. While introverted, she is stubborn - some might say 'stuck in her ways' - but, being a girl of science, open-minded enough to consider possibilities outside of her initial determinations, usually. She is, by nature, also a playful spirit - but her social ineptitude and self-consciousness bar her from engaging in some portions of her true character. Finally, outside of her social incapacity, she is a cautious person - some might even say paranoid. She usually prepares for the worst, even if it is unlikely, in most situations. She is untrusting of both fate and other people, for better or worse.
• Skills:
  Caveira possesses a particular array of skills that include many common mercenary aptitudes, as well as some more niche expertises from her more secular jobs.
  
  • Tech Adept - Caveira is a particularly skilled operator and innovator of complicated technology. While she generally doesn't take it upon herself to create great machines from scratch, over the years she has gained enough prowess to fix, operate, or improve most things. This is evident in her work with her AUG, her ship, and even her artificial limb.
  • Experienced Pilot - Caveira has piloted her own spacecraft for a few years, and has learned to captain similar light ships pretty well - and she knows how to fix 'em up, too. Aside from spacecraft, she has also piloted a couple Mobile Armors and her own Augmented Armor for years, leading her to be comfortable piloting and repairing those as well.
  • Poacher Specialist - Caveira's most lucrative and long-standing occupation has led her to gain scores of information on the various behaviors and biological functions of different species and classes of animals. Even when engaging with un-recorded species on largely uninhabited planets, it's likely she could glean details about the creatures and their environments even from short periods of study.
  • Combat Adept - Being a mercenary of various occupations often leads one to develop a sense for things of a more.. violent persuasion. Caveira is thoroughly knowledgeable when it comes to different forms of armaments, whether they be small arms, mounted artillery, ballistics, energy-powered, etc. She is also knowledgeable in most things violent, such as hand-to-hand combat, armor-maneuvers, ammunitions, etc.
• Brief History:
  Caveira was but a baby when The Lemnosian Territorial Space declared war on the UEC. Born to a single father who worked as a hewer mining various materials from various planets in the galaxy, life was a bit bumpy. They traveled often between planets where work was a prospect, but not a guarantee. Planets that were often besieged by war efforts on both sides - whether they be points of common attack, or corrupted garrisons. Life was unsure, and comfort was but a dream for the lonely duo. But, they made it through, for the mostpart.
  
  Caveira's father, Emis Allo, managed to care for his child throughout her infantile years and into her young-teens. Eventually, the turmoil that filled the galaxy came to an official end with the death of Anthen Nilsk when Caveira was eleven years old - and though times grew less-hard, it wasn't saying much. Unofficial warfare still raged on in some places. And, unfortunately, one could never tell when a rogue attack would strike an otherwise peaceful colony. A few years after Nilsk's death, such an event would cause the tragic death of Caveira's father - something that would leave her alone in the galaxy for the first time.
  
  Being alone, young, and without direction was a dangerous combination in a galaxy like theirs. It led many to take on paths which they didn't fully understand, or which would get them killed. Caveira was.. one of the lucky ones, if you could call it that. The rocky path she chose, that eventually led to her becoming a mercenary of considerable skill, was filled with potholes and pits. Robberies, mercenary-esque occupations, jailbreaks, and even some undertakings as extreme as illegal experimental-biochemical-products testing - which are a direct source of her vocal damage and the loss of her arm - all scarred the timeline that led to who she is today.
  
  That being, a mercenary who has made a number of small, shaky wealths mostly through the poaching of exotic creatures. And wreckage-delving. And tech commissions. Really, just a garbage bag full of tasks which she can claim to perform "professionally". Most often, she performed her mercenary activities alone - allied or banded with nobody. But a part of her, no matter how small - and no matter how long it's been alone, does want to be with people, even if she doesn't realize it - and fortune would have it that a place she spent a good amount of time growing up - Bifrost - was the operational base for a mercenary guild, of sorts.
  
  And so, a new horizon it is for her to explore.

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Augmented Armor

• AUG Name: 113-BLS-1 "Bolis"
• AUG Appearance:
  When compared to the average AUG, Bolis is a few meters shorter, at 16m, and a tad more compact. It retains a largely humanoid figure, but possesses digitigrade legs and plantarly wide feet, which greatly aid in its maneuverability and stability within steep, rocky, or
  difficult-to-navigate areas. Aside from its legs, and its relatively diminutive stature, the only immediately notable feature about Bolis is the lack of any bulky or protrusive gear or artillery on its chassis.
• Armaments:
  Bolis possesses an array of armaments, both intended for combat and explorative purposes.
  
  • 120mm Cannon - Bolis' main piece of artillery consists of a single-barrel ballistic weapon loaded in 120mm caliber shells, which can be called to extend several meters from the armor's left arm, directly beneath the palm.
  • 20mm Cannon - A weapon very similar to the first that can be engaged directly next to the 120mm - though this smaller cannon is mostly used for game that Caveira wishes to de-pelt.
  • Magnetic Pulsator - Perhaps the most useful piece of Bolis' arsenal is a medium-range manipulation device that can manipulate the environment through magnetism, as well as some measure of raw energy expulsion. This device is pretty effective at violently repulsing objects away from the user, or pulling them in - though the former only in short bursts. This device is not powerful enough to fully manipulate objects as large as Mobile Armors, of course, but it can cause them to make missteps or leave them staggered. This Pulsator device can be engaged through either of the armor's palms, as well as its feet and knees. It has an effective range of around 100 meters.
  • Ballistic Grappling Devices (BGD) - A simple, yet useful, array of devices that allow Bolis to maintain stability or safety in treacherous areas, or to maneuver cargo. These devices are rather simple, consisting of high-tech grappling hooks that can fire out of various ports on the main body of the armor. These devices aren't really designed for combat - moreso exploration - but a creative mind could surely find them some use for that. These launchable tethers manage to be just strong enough to manage the weight of the Bolis for shorts amount of time, were one free-hanging from them, but heavier prospects are pretty much out the window.
  • Various exploration gear - The rest of Bolis' arsenal consists of a toolbox of utility features, mostly used in exploration. This includes some number of torches/heat-cutters, flares, and even nets and taser-esque devices(for poaching), amongst more.
• Specifications:
  Bolis is an armor that focuses on agility, flexibility, and utility over armor and direct firepower. Due to the smaller nature of the Bolis, and its lower center of gravity, the armor is very stable and agile over short distances, in bursts, and over situational terrain - however, it can do so in exchange for land-speed, causing it to cover less ground over distance. It also must be relegated to using medium-light armor, making it not-so-durable in the line of direct enemy fire, compared to the average AUG.

Pokemon: Dream

Ripley Lennox

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Mentions: All airport-goers?? Location: Byjerlfal City Airport

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Ripley was almost oblivious to the chaos around him as he made his way towards the sign-holder, his bright, excited mood evident on his wide-eyed face. It was a few moments before he could manage to buizel his way through the crowd and finally be within conversation distance of their yet-to-be-met guide.

The dark-haired woman, and her sign-wielding partner, emerged from one of the waiting crowds to greet him welcomingly - as well as others. A handful of what Ripley could only assume was similarly-Camphor-involved individuals began to emerge from the swathes of people around them. Ripley responded with a playful bow as Camphor's assistant made their greeting. "Hellllooo, Ms. Frieda! Thank you for the welcome!~" He greeted in turn with a smile. The small Zorua that sat upon his luggage offered its own wave as well, as its trainer straightened his posture once again, and blew his bangs out of his face. Any of the aforementioned trainers would receive an equally bright wave from the boy too, should they look over to him.

"This is all so exciting! I can't wait to start already!"

Usually, Ripley wasn't quite so rambunctious, but he found himself not being able to contain his energy - the adrenaline of all the new experiences to come was rushing through his veins, and he could honestly hardly compose himself. Even so, he took a moment to pause at Frieda's offer to answer any questions they might've had. Maybe it was the adrenaline flooding his brain, or the simple fact that he wasn't really sure what to ask, but he couldn't for the life of him come up with any sort of inquiry for her.

Recollections: Who Is Eleanor Black [CANCELLED]

Zeltzin Sandoval

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Mentions: @silvermist1116(Ophrenia), @Punished GN(GM) Location: Black Mining Co. Main Office

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Zeltzin marched - as well as she could march - past Ophrenia as the other girl held the door open for her. Once over the threshold, the duo found themselves moving through what was apparently the site of a pathetic-looking preservation of what this building would've looked like had it been here during The Great Depression - and for all Zeltzin knew, maybe it had been. But she was far from focused on the interior design, instead having her eyes locked in an irate-looking stare that was directed straight at the front desk and its occupant.

She pulled to an immediate halt as she and Ophrenia reached the desk, allowing a heavy, black-leather boot to carelessly thunk into the bottom-side of the desk. While Zeltzin was nobody that would win any awards for acting, she was more than accustomed to being angry. One could maybe consider it her primary emotion nowadays, honestly. After Eleanor vanished from her life, she had grown to react to more and more things with more and more aggression. Moreover, though it had been a long time she had led such a life, she used to exist in circles where sometimes being what you needed to be was more important than being what you felt like.

So when Ophrenia patted her shoulder, and Zeltzin harshly swatted her hand away with a fuming growl, only part of it had been the acting. There was nothing of it against Ophrenia, of course, but Zeltzin was far from accustomed to being touched. In part due to her own decisions to isolate after Eleanor, but really she didn't know anybody who would want to touch her anyway, due to her clear, indefinite crossness with most-everything around her.

She waited, visibly steeping in her impatience as she stared hotly at the woman behind the desk while Ophrenia explained their fabricated issue. Immediately upon her partner finishing, Zeltzin haphazardly slapped her hand down onto the edge of the desk, her nails then beginning to sink into the aging wood as she practically growled at the stranger. "This shit better get fixed real quick-like lady, 'cause I sure as hell ain't got the time for it." She stated, her angry gaze still locked on the poor lady behind the counter as her displeasure remained still very-much evident on her face. "Where's this Mrs. Black??"

While her drawl wasn't quite Louisianian, it was about as close as you could get without being one of 'em. Not many could directly parse southern accents too accurately with how close she had always lived to Louisianian folk, and when face-to-face with an irate Zeltzin, who had an even stronger southern accent than normal, even fewer would care to. Zeltzin had learned over the years that small stuff like that was sometimes useful when trying to be persuasive, no matter your approach, as people who related to you were more likely to be inclined to help you out, and they were generally less suspicious of you -- basic psychology, really, but proven-helpful nonetheless.

Dreams of the Old World (Post apocalyptic adventure with dream based powers)

Gonna post my WIP which I will finish tomorrow(or maybe tonight)!
Lemme know if something seems off uwu

Pallyx

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• Name: Pallyx Ellsyn
• Gender: Female (Biologically male)
• Age: 23
• Appearance:
  Pallyx is fairly petite at first glance, standing at just 5'4" and weighing around 125lbs. Her clavicle-length, phthalo-green hair is most often left to its own devices, as she doesn't care at all to style it, and frames her heart-shaped face loosely, often brushing in front of it or wherever it wants to go. Her equally-green, expressive eyebrows rest thin over her rose-ish-colored eyes, which are similarly quite expressive, unbeknownst to her. Aside from facial details, Pallyx possesses fair, clear skin and is just mostly unassuming in-all. She is pretty slim, and seems mostly soft in physique, but does have some definition to her muscles, most notably in her thighs and biceps.
• Personality:
  For someone who grew up in the aftereffects of the literal apocalypse, Pallyx is a pretty good-humored individual. She's a rather casual person, but in an odd contrast, seems to keep people at an arm's length - never really allowing anyone to get close to her, but remaining no-less amicable. She usually gives off a partly carefree air, and seems pretty buoyant overall - often one to make fun of a situation first among her peers. She is known for possessing a sharp tongue, and a penchant for back-talking.
  
  She is not entirely one-dimensionally joyous, however. Though she may seem carefree, she is a capable thinker by nature. Her eyes can often be caught scanning things that a person otherwise blithe as herself wouldn't find of any interest - which can be hard for her to hide, considering their expressive nature. While she is fun-loving in the presence of others, she doesn't really have.. friends. Nobody has managed to acquire an understanding of her person past just the surface - something that she has managed purposefully, but also regrets, sometimes.
  
  All-in-all, Pallyx is clever, watchful, and overall just quick-witted. It's hard to catch her off-guard and keep her there.
• Dream:
  
  The Prison
  Pallyx's dream is, in culmination, a prison. An ethereal, ever-shifting and ever-growing prison which one could only imagine the contents of. In general, The Prison is rather.. safe.. you could say - at least in comparison to other dreams. While the inmates within The Prison consist of some of the most heinous people, creatures, and.. things.. one could imagine, the saving grace of it all is that Pallyx stands before The Prison as The Warden, and not a prisoner. Being the warden of such a place is a stressful, secluded endeavor with which she can share the burden no-one. But, it does have some quirks to it -- occasionally.
  
  As The Warden, Pallyx is able to 'detain' dream-borne phenomena in a stasis on which she must focus. This stasis does know some limits, but is rather strong - making her able to detain most phenomena, at least for some time. Though the aforementioned usage is the most important, there are other applications of this detainment. With enough willpower and effort, Pallyx can manage to detain Dreamers with her abilities, or even shunt dream-things into the prison itself, but these are far more taxing endeavors, and the former cannot be imposed for very long at all.
  
  There are more side effects to Pallyx's position as The Warden. That being, her exposure to some inmates. Although The Prison is maximum security, inmates do manage to slip through the cracks, meaning Pallyx is occasionally visited by inmates, who can remain with her for anywhere from a few hours to a few days - and can appear at the most random times, whether they be good or bad. Luckily, a few prisoners in particular possesses the most influence over these visits, and they are rather benevolent - but the danger is ever-so there, nonetheless.
  
  Below are the profiles of the inmates who have visited Pallyx so far.
  
  Visitors

  Rennfield

  Rennfield
  "Y'know, I used to think it was weird to make-nice with the inmates, but.. they've shown me that, really, they're.. just like me. Just as human - I don't care if it makes sense, that's just how it is. And Rennfield has really shown me that. He's saved my ass more times than I can count, and he's.. I guess you could say the closest thing to a parental figure I've ever known. But he's my friend, too! He's nowhere old enough to be a parent of mine. Anyway, he's a chill dude, and fun to talk to. He's got this dope ethereal, mysteriousness goin' on that's pretty cool. And, I've never been able to place it, but.. there's also something so.. captivating about them.. I-I- mean- they're weird-lookin', alright?!"
  
  Rennfield was the first inmate to visit Pallyx and, alongside Brody, holds the most control over the visits.
  Rennfield possesses an innate ability to alter his body into inky-black shapes of his desire, and can harden these shapes into weapons or armor.

  
  

  Brody

  Brody
  "Brody and I are kindred spirits. We both like fun, violence, and great jokes! He's kinda like the brother I never had! And he's got this sick accent - but don't tell him I said that. He's great at party tricks, too!"
  
  Pallyx has known Brody the second-longest after Rennfield. He shares most of the visitation-control with Rennfield as well.
  Brody is capable of launching beams of raw energy from his digits that grow more potent the further they travel, and he is an exceptional marksman with them.

  
  

  Allo

  Allo
  "Allo is.. well, to put it nicely, a bit of a freak. She, um, well- she's apparently my identical twin I never had. And she's completely bipolar. Like, supernaturally so - she's like a different person every time she visits me. Now, the joyous version is kinda infectious, that one's fun - but some of the others, well.. there's anger, which is pretty destructive. And then there's.. well, I'm sure you'll see when she comes. Or hopefully not.."
  
  Allo seemingly possesses no special abilities.

  
  

  Meph

  Meph
  "Meph is an asshole. And I mean that in the most sincere way possible. He's dangerous. In my experience, he's just plain evil - I swear. He don't feel remorse for hurtin' nobody, and goes out of his way to do it! He even hurts me, the bastard! He won't kill me, of course, 'cause he needs me to live, but he's shown he doesn't care 'bout anybody. And he can't be negotiated with - trust me, I've tried. If he shows up, I gotta try my best to shunt him away, or anyone nearby is in danger."
  
  Meph is capable of conjuring flames, and small-to-medium-sized explosions.

  
  

  Others

  "There've been other inmates who've visited me - but not many were humans like those I mentioned before. The ones I didn't already talk about were.. monsters and beasts. Luckily, I've managed to avoid getting hurt too bad when they do come around, and fortunately I can shunt away the ones that aren't too strong - but my own summons are harder to disperse than other dreamers' - at least for me. I've managed to come out on top so far, but my luck will run out, sooner or later.."
• Bio:
  Being born into a world razed by misfortune and cataclysm, raised by the rough equivalent of what would be a foster parent, Pallyx is probably one of the more fortunate, if wayward, souls in the galaxy. She grew up in relative safety with her foster 'mother' amidst one of The Nova Republic's smaller cities. Her mother was a rather aloof, uncaring woman who rarely gave Pallyx the time of day. She managed only to feed and shelter her, and little more. Which, naturally, led Pallyx to grow interested in things further and further away from the unnurturing woman.
  
  It was early in her life that she began to acquire knowledge of the ways of the world and how to survive the elements and the dangers of the planet around her. Similarly disadvantaged youths were quick to provide aide to their fellow socially-impoverished adolescents. By her early teen years, she had grown to become a pretty skilled thief, scrapper, and evader-of-law-enforcement. Some would say she had become quite the miscreant.
  
  But, the ways of a childish outlaw weren't all there was to the world, and Pallyx knew that, one way or another. She was often one to explore the outskirts of civilization and maybe wonder a bit too far for her own good. It was during one of these dinky little adventures that Pallyx would make a mistake that would change her life forever.
  
  While out exploring, she discovered an opportunity to steal from a traveling merchant. And the thing she stole was something she had never discovered before. A.. shard. What happened next, well.. you know.
  
  After being infected by whatever it was that she had stolen, she was terrified to return to what home she had. She was young enough to be a fool enough to touch such a shard, but old enough to know that Dreamers were feared. Ousted. And by some, hunted. And so, she ran. She didn't really know where, but she did. After gathering what she could to try and keep herself alive, she fled from the only city she had ever known and put what skills she had learned to use, barely keeping herself alive.
  
  And she continued skirting by for years, alone, on the outskirts of civilization. As time went on, though, she grew bolder as a person. She would "infiltrate" cities or towns and hide amongst the citizens as a normal person. After all, nobody could possibly know she was a dreamer, right? This growth worked in her favor - as it turned out, being able to work with others was a good way of keeping oneself alive. She started to do various oddjobs and participate in mercenary-esque work. Stealing and fighting for hire. And, eventually, she discovered a particular line of work that was one of the most lucrative and adventurous of the bunch - shardhunting.
  
  Shardhunters could be of.. dubious ethical cleanliness, but Pallyx was among the more benevolent - or at least she assumed she was. She mainly made her work going after dreamers who had become a problem for cities, towns, whathaveyou - though occasionally she did hunt shardbearers of just dubious morality. She did sometimes feel bad about her work, but.. there were far less humane ways of making a living in a post-apocalyptic Earth. And of course, she had to do all this alone - as her main method for defeating fellow dreamers were her own dream-powers, and she didn't exactly trust anyone.
  
  Over the years, she has grown accustomed to her dream, and some of the quirks with which it comes. Though, with its nature and how it's more than capable of killing her, she can never really get used to it, fully. But, in a world like this, who can really afford to grow comfortable?