[color=40E0D0][center][h3][i]Haze Kanoa[/i][/h3][/center][/color]

Haze appreciated a good show and the Opening Ceremony was in itself a production marvel boasting the most gorgeous accompaniment of strings, wind and percussion instruments she had ever heard. The state-of-the-art Main Stadium, custom built for such a time-stopping occasion, featured a glass stage that broke light into every perceptible colour and reflected them across the walls. In person, the experience was otherworldly. Although she would miss much of the actual Contests, that opener alone kept her hopes aloft for what the Cruise had to offer. It was unfortunate, then, that this pleasant memory was marred by its current replay, which turned the length of the ship into a house of horrors and the music into sonic torture. All she wanted now was a stable point in the ship that a behemoth was not going to reach through, like the lobby earlier, and the hallway and stairwell after that. Thoughts of that angry, red blaze erupting behind her struck cold fear into her bones. Had there not been a distracting sparkle further beyond it, she might not have recovered her lost step when taking to the stairwell.

As the Main Stadium opened itself around her, so too did the sound, echoing around the circular chamber at an almost disorienting volume. What distracted her more were the skies that teemed with creatures terrible and awe-inspiring, writhing a path around each other. Some came threateningly close to swooping into the open-air stadium. Feeling overwhelmed, Haze looked around for a sign of order, some authority figures or staff to explain this.

[color=40E0D0]"Oh,"[/color] she exclaimed, at the familiar sight of stars glinting from the midnight void between two birds in flight. The striking design was what took her eyes from the image of her nightmare incarnate erupting from the ground, and wearing it was a man with hair just as fiery red as the beast's hide, and was possibly between two worlds himself. [i][color=40E0D0]"He looks like he needs a hand,"[/color][/i] she thought instinctively with a grimace and scanned the crowd of arrivals behind him for anyone that could assist. No use extending herself when they were all in the same boat.

[i][color=40E0D0]"Here's an eye in the storm,"[/color][/i] Haze mused, as one came through the entryway visibly different from the others, and not just for the bright crop of fresh snow atop his head. Performing at venues prone to disruptions and rowing rabbles gave her a learned sense for common crowd behaviours and the collected cool he was sailing in with was not one. It instead fit the demeanour of someone who knew more about the disarray than others and the pretty Espeon at his side further fuelled her intrigue. His attire of solid white suggested wealth in the way it was understated and yet classy, a day suit well-tailored to his build featuring what she guessed was high-end material. An interesting parallel to the red-haired parade of cosmic splendor who sauntered in ahead of him.

As if she was unconsciously scanning the wide clock-face arena for suits, her storm-grey eyes spotted Garscon from The Lucky Catch. They widened in shock, the poor mon's normally pristine attire had been tarnished but as a heartening comfort he did not appear to be in pain and his mustache was impeccably sharp. Whatever the challenge was to have overwhelmed a Pokemon renowned for its superpower strength, hopefully it entailed rescue efforts and not self-defence. Next to him was the dependable sight of his Trainer, the very essence of sweetness, whom Haze had spotted through a kitchen port window on the few visits she made incognito as DJ Halo's assistant. It was an impressive sight the times she came to pick up her take-out orders, seeing the Chef bedecked in white fatigues and whirling around the kitchen in a cooking blitz. The bronze-haired chef was determinably intent on communicating with Garscon and Haze leaned in absentmindedly as if the ten-or-so-feet between them were mere inches. Was she giving directions or a means to escape? She was as close to ship staff as Haze could identify from this crowd.

Pressure blasted from the speakers and Haze crouched, covering her ears and tucking her backpack between her knees and chest, protectively. Looking upwards, the sky-beasts were obliterated and fell in a mass of tiny sparks. They were jade and serpentine, black-cloaked and skull-faced, furious and formless, bearing hoops and multiple limbs, and featureless save for eyes devoid of life, all vanishing in a death-knoll of an orchestra's mind-piercing offense. The moment was terrifying, not soon to be forgotten.

[colour=purple]“Hello, darlings, this is your captain speaking again, yoo-hoo. For once, can you all just be quiet? My goodness, every time we do this…’[/colour]

Haze peered upwards, still close to the floor, and spotted three figures where the judges were usually stationed. It was easy to reason that they were not here for a contest.

[colour=orange]"What the captain means to say is, you are safe, remain calm."[/colour]

Haze doubted this claim as strongly as she doubted the captain's legitimacy. It was a preposterous idea that her agent was fooled, that all these guests and Coordinators, too, were similarly duped and overpowered by unknown forces, and so her mind raced through questions and paranoia. Was this an elaborate stick-up, and were the staff and crew in on the ruse? Looking up at the panicked faces still standing, and around at those who like her had crouched down, some holding each other, some being shielded by their [i]Pokemon[/i]... All were united in their confusion and worry. No, this was real.

Haze watched the gears beneath her feet begin to spin and she fell, unable to keep balance as the machinery . The air held a tinge to it that raised the hairs on her neck, then its shape bent around all that she could see until everything began to shake violently. She clutched the Pokeball around her neck, the other arm wrapped firmly over the backpack slung across her chest. Suddenly a flash of light forced her wide eyes shut, which was the only mercy her senses were afforded.

[i][b]THUD![/b][/i]

Sunshine warmed her face. Blinking, she beheld the Stadium, now awash with the full force of a summer's midday glare. Confusion reached its peak and the strong urge to want to resolve it settled in. She helped herself up and looked around for any other signs of change. The judge's booth had emptied but otherwise she could not make out major damage to the ship. Dusting off her jeans, she set a course for the Chef and her Machamp.

[color=40E0D0]"Excuse me,"[/color] Haze called out as she approached, [color=40E0D0]"What happened to your partner?"[/color] She nodded her head towards Garscon, eyes full of concern, searching for some sense in this madness. Speaking to a chef also made her realise she was starving.