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Clarissa Ryte

Wailord's Rest Cafe, Industrial District, Byjerfal City

(Urban Exploration)

“Brave lass, aren’t ya?” He’d say. “And a brave little rabbit huh?” A small chuckle as he’d pull a pokeball from his coat pocket. He’d bring the pokeball up to his face, gazing at the ball with a light smirk. “Normally I’d say you’re far too weak to weather a storm, lass, but lucky for you the sea’s fairly calm today.”

Stretching the arm out, Tuule would open the pokeball, and out came-

Ah. That was an interesting Pokemon for sure.


Sir Lopsalot would roar out in his little Buneary voice as a battle cry of his own in response to the Aron. He even decided to flex his arms and ears in response, just to accentuate the point.

Clarissa would pull out her Pokedex-like device to scan Tuule's Pokemon for herself somewhat quickly. It was certinaly another curious Pokemon that piqued her interest somewhat, but at the same time was not perhaps the best matchup in type from the looks of it. Steel/Rock. Not much of a good thing for a Normal-type to face in general, she figured, but Sir Lopsalot was definitely not unprepared either. She had learned about about type advantages in prior schooling though, at least, to get an idea of things before coming to Eidda. Not that Orre was perhaps the most up to date either....but it wasn't nothing at least. Still, the psychic quickly put the device back in her pocket to avoid stalling the start of the battle out.

Still, to hear some of the sailors cheering from her depite the odds was somewhat amusing. Heh. They wanted an underdog to win, perhaps? She couldn't guaratee a win, but the two of them would assuredly do their best to do so!

"Sir Lopsalot! Use Defense Curl!"

To that end, the Buneary would contract his body to curl up to raise his physical defense! Though how Tuule would respond, well, Clarissa had no clue. But to raise the defense of her Pokemon a stage would be useful at the start, she felt, to get a little more potential surtvivability and see what her opponent would kick things off with in the meantime.
Clarissa Ryte

Wailord's Rest Cafe, Industrial District, Byjerfal City

(Urban Exploration)

Well, a bad gamble was not something one could avoid the consequences of. Literally. But perhaps that was the lot of sailors? What few sailors she'd been around any in the first place anywho. At the same time, it was somewhat eye-opening for her to see another Gym Leader of all people in a place like this. Or did he often come here? Maybe just once in a while? Perhaps it was also the contest, after all, as another Gym Leader was here participating in that. So it wasn't as crazy, but still surprising enough to learn as they sat there waiting on food.

However, despite a internal sigh of relief at the sailors having left and moved a lot of negative emotions out of the area...it seemed things weren't quite over yet.

“Right, then. Alright! If anyone here is brave enough to fight the Gym Leader of Rivenwall, Captain Tuule in a one on one match, step into that ring!

Fight...a gym leader? Right here? It wasn't a formal league challenge, but it at least was a tempting offer if the psychic had to admit the truth to herself. Yet to do so right out of the gate, as her first trainer battle, of all things? It was an idea that seemed ever so stupid, foolish, and naive at best! Yet all the same it was a chance to get a true taste of their future aspirations, her and Sir Lopsalot at least that is, even if it was in the hard way. What chance did either her or Ripley have to win if they did try though? Little to none at best.

But still, she'd keep her cool and they could just-


Clarissa felt a tugging at her right sleeve, and snapping out of her train of thought would look to the side to see Sir Lopsalot. The buneary would motion toward Tuule with his free arm, the other one tugging slightly harder now at the psychic's skirt. She would raise an eyebrow as she looked over at where Tuule was, and then back down a the little Buneary. The gaze of the little Pokemon did not break from her eyes for even a second either. Steely. Hardened. Determined, even.

Was he-? Really?! No, actually, it made more sense than not. A lot more. Headheaded little Buneary was something else when it came to raw determination, and he seemed to want to start their adventure by hopping into the deep end. He had...well, it was safe to say that when the little bunny wanted to do something, or she did otherwise, they were usually a pair no matter what. Not that he wasn't already a bit stubborn at times, but to want to challenge such a strong foe like this? Hmm.

"Bun! Bun bun."

Nope. This was one of 'those' times, it seemed, and without any warning. In that vein Clarissa would sigh aloud, running a hand through her hair for a moment before looking back to Sir Lopsalot and giving him a simple nod. It all went without having to say anything else at that point, but no words would dissuade him. More like it was a an affirmation for herself to try to steel herself for what was to come. However, the psychic would look over at Ripley before she did anything else.

"We'll be right back. Please keep our food safe until then, Ripley, if it comes out sooner than later."

Politely standing up from where she sat on her side of the booth, the new trainer would walk in the direction of the rough-looking man and Tuule (as his name seemed to be). Sir Lopsalot, for his part, would seem to go into a steely expression as he hopped along with her. Not a word or sound from the litle guy the whole short walk over, but even so he seemed to be determined to go through with things. Trying to deal with the whims of an adamant little bunny certainly was something, though in this case she had already felt a little curious about this anyway. Hmm. Perhaps they both had a problem.

"We're brave enough to take that challenge. Strong enough to? Well....we've got to start learning somewhere on this journey."

A small run of adrenaline pulsed through her blood vessels for a moment. Anticipation, perhaps? Hmm. They would have to see.

Location: Queens, New York; Avengers Academy

"That will be fine, Jason. We'll have plenty of time to drop your armor off soon enough."

Affirmative. He would, though, for the moment remain sitting where he was on the ground. It was certianly a better spot than the hard floor of a cell, or his former living quarters even before that. Though perhaps in some respects....the suit was itself a sort of comfortable enough space for him as well for the moment. At least if he tried to think more on it. Sure its use kept him safer and better alive in a general sense, but he had become accustomed to it. What was the phrase, again? 'Being comfortable in your own skin'? Eh, perhaps it was close enough for the moment being.

More than that, the armored younger man would finally turn his head about to take a glance and look at the other 'students' around him.

It felt somewhat familiar in a vague sense, and yet at the same time the airs of the place and expressions of these fellow students were still abnormal to him. One girl's eyes seemed to be scanning over their Headmaster as if looking for weak points, even as she seemed to be in some sort of pleasant mood at least. There was also the other younger man closer to where he was while sittig on a bench. Seemed relaxed, if not from here frankly, to his eyes. Just was something he felt from the way the guy carried himself here, and how he didn't seem to be too bothered by things perhaps. There was also another girl who seemed to be also dressed rather 'normally', but seemed enthusiastic enough about things otherwise. Then came-

“How do you do, fellow kids?” She spoke with a flash of a smirk, enough of her black matte-covered lips parting to reveal the flash of her sharpened canines in amusement.

...Hmm. Nice bike, but the look in the eyes of the guy who was driving it certianly felt a bit too familiar to Jason's eyes. Somewhat too close to home for him, really, and the man seemed to slip away as soon as he could to boot. It was all he could do to get a passing glance to notice, but beyond that something or someone else was more notable to see here. Or rather, had just cheekily flashed a grin at them in a seemingly fanged sort of manner. Seemed to be taking this entire affair lightly enough and casually enough as it was, but he'd no idea what the others here had gone through frankly or how they'd ended up as they were now.

Not his favorite person, though, at least for a first impression and the particular vibes he got from her.

"If I have everyone's attention?" Giving a few patient moments to ensure everyone had their focus towards him, the Headmaster spoke once again. "If you all will follow me, I'll give you a tour of the Academy grounds alongside War Machine and Mr. Hogan here."

Noted. War Machine. Avenger. Suit originated from Tony Stark's technology. They had at the testing facility been giving some lessons where this individual was noted. Though Jason himself still wasn't seeing Mr. Wilson anywhere around this introduction. Hmm. Well, it wasn't as if everyone had to come greet the new students themselves. Would be peculiar and even more strange if they had made the teachers to such a thing. Deadpool was seemingly the eccentric one who had been kicked out by War Machine. A nuisance, and one seemingly with a running mouth to boot. Duly noted. Ah. But if they did run into Mrs. Stark, he would have to make his apologies. The individuals outside had advised such, at least, and were perhaps parents of one of the students too? Hmm. Though he hadn't known much of what else to say in the moment either.

However, at least the tour of the facilities was beginning.

While he found it at least somewhat strange still to not be given something akin to a combat briefing or the like, Jason still felt his eyes and ears keeping peeled and taking note. Advantageous roof positions. Certain rooms or other such spots in the hallways that could be used to ambush combatants. Placement of at leasy any potentially visible cameras or detectors or sensors he could tell were about. Windows under which might make for good cover if caught outside of his suit and had to return fire. Even potential bottlenecks for incoming enemy forces in which one could fortify to hold out stood out to him along the way as he and the others were led around the shop. But this was just a general assessment in the overall sense on his part. Just that.

Meanwhile the particular places they had noted to them were also something to take note of. First off, here was the Danger Room, a place for training and yet not without supervision. Locker rooms for changing for such occasions were also nearby. Good to know, but not very advantageous if he couldn't use free time to continue practice and drilling on his own for a time. Would there be a spot for that outside of the Danger Room? He would make sure to inquire about such later. Especially when it came to firearms training and such on his end, he needed the space. Still, the next location would be of more relavent import for the time being.

The Workshop is for the more technologically inclined students of the Academy. Here, you may find a variety of resources and tools to create and maintain whatever your mind can dream up! It's also designed to hold whatever inventions the students may design for safekeeping and quick access in case of emergencies. However, anything designed here has to get the all-clear from Jocasta and War Machine to ensure the device's safety measures.

Workbenches, materials, all assortments of tools, hoists, cables, lifts, if one could name it the thing seemed to be here in one form or another. It was in this vein that Jason felt a small bit of relief as he noticed a particular 'stand' of sorts to the right. It fit the dimensions of his suit, and he had been told beforehand the Academy would have a spot for storage of his suit. Well, and space to work on it and such it seemed. Sure he was no genius, but he had learned about how to care for and field repair his suit at the very least and had looked into it and general engineering more in his off-time (before, but especially after, coming into SHIELD custody). It would be something to do, at least when he wasn't taking time for his cooking training or the like otherwise. Having options was always a good thing in the general sense, he felt, when it came to matters of making use of one's personal time.

Walking over to the 'stand', though, he would initiate the pilot ejection process wordlessly as the suit began to whir and its parts moved and slid open. Looking at a small display the suit gave him, he took note of the 'energy reserves' storage to ensure it was in order before it dissapeared again. All systemms nominal. Reserves acceptable. Internal bio-energy levels at currently well within the 'safe' levels and proper threshold. If it weren't for the fact he reminded himself he was on a tour, the younger man felt himself wanting to just unconsiously move to do some systems tests and other normal post-flight routines. For now, though, he had to keep moving. It was in that vein that the muscular Jason stepped foward a few steps from his suit, stretched a little to ensure his arms and legs were in good order, and then nodded to the Hulk before returning to the other students and the rest of the tour. A skintight black short-sleeved shirt clung to his chest, part of his piloting uniform, though a pair of comfortable but not immodest shorts were on his legs as well. Took quite a lot of coldness to get him to not wear shorts in most weather, actually, though he wasn't going to simply announce such a thing out of the blue to people either.

The Infirmary was certianly another good location to take note of, in case of injuries on-campus or during training or the like, though to be severe enough his body couldn't handle it very well was usually a bad sign of things in the first place. Suitable medical equipment and hopefully staffing to boot, though he didn't feel quite comfortable calling it the 'Nurse's Office' either. Though heading into the office of "Happy" Hogan, the counselor's office of sorts, was at least something to take an at least cursory note of as well. Meanwhile the Cafeteria was certinaly something seemingly fit to feed may students and staff, and he would take especial note of it....and potential alternative entry points in case of emergencies. Beyond this, however, not much was of major note to take other than doing so to ensure he could make it to assigned classes and study as needed. Classrooms, the Headmaster's Office, the Library, and even the spacious Auditorium would be shown to them in turn, and from the loud girl's seeming aversion to the pool and other such things along the way the other students seemed to react to the tour in their own manner as well. Then came the final building they were brought to, that being the Dormitories.

Shared dorms? It was nothing he wasn't used to already, frankly, as they had all been test subjects and had an eye kept on them at all times of day and night. Sure sometimes fights and such broke out, but there had been little privacy. Apparently that was...'taboo' in the rest of the world? Well, perhaps so for non-supersoldier children in all likelihood, he supposed, and for the adults wanting to keep them in-line somehow? It was also standard in other militaries, including that of the US, to enough of an extent it seemed. But still-? Hmm. It felt awkward to try to think of the other angle, really, and so the stoic younger man would simply stare on silently as he had for the entire tour since dropping off his suit in the workshop. Besides, the rooms themselves were frankly a luxurious abode compared to anything he could still remember having lived in, though, and the kitchens in the dorms were of a special note to him. Yes, he could at least practice cooking and eat without having to make his way to the cafeteria on a cover mission to get a bite to eat if his body really needed it after hours.

"All that Stark money couldn't afford a few extra walls?" Her tone was teasing, but ultimately light-hearted.

"I suppose this might give us a chance to get to know each other and possibly collaborate during training sessions. I mean...that's the idea, isn't it?" she asked, her voice carrying a hint of uncertainty.

“A bed’s a bed even if the room is shared.” he spoke out for the first time, surprising even himself not being entirely sure where that had come from.

Hmm. Seemed his peers were taking issue, or perhaps joking, about the way they would be roomed? It was to be expected, perhaps, but it still felt awkward enough he didn't deign to quip about the matter or make a comment otherwise. Though he did glance at those who spoke breifly as they each spoke in turn, pairing what assessments of them he had already with this commentary in turn. Still, a chance to get his things and bring them to the room would be good to ensure he didn't misplace anything.

Clarissa Ryte

Wailord's Rest Cafe, Industrial District, Byjerfal City

(Urban Exploration)

“Oh, you must be from outta region? You visiting Eidda?” Beryl responded with a friendly, inquisitive tone.

"Er, somewhat I suppose. My family moved to Eidda two years ago from Orre, but I've never seen anywhere outside of the south side of Mireth for the most part..."

“Ah, but Miss Keira - she’s the Gym Leader here. Runs the resort and is a bit of a legend here in Byjerlfal. Friendly enough gal, just uh, don’t get on her bad side or you might end up taking a long walk off the pier. That scary lookin’ guy over there taking bets works for her.”

Eh? EH?! The...Gym Leader? Miss Keira was the gym leader of Byjerfal, and one who seemed to have muscle on-staff and had someone running a betting table here in the cafe? This really was taking a page out of the Orre Rulebook, as it were, especially with something so shady and the potential danger being so real. At the same time, it was simply a surprise to find that sort of reputation outside of someplace like Kanto or Orre or something to her mind. Didn't expect a proper slice of home to appear in front of her as they were going about Byjerfal, but apparently big cities had their own problems. Hmm.

Clarissa's eyes breifly narrowed as bit as she took a breif side glance at the betting table from afar. Trying to be subtle, as it were, or the like.

....As long as the sort of things her parents had lived through back in Orre, the sort of "Shadow Pokemon" crap, didn't pop up she wouldn't stir up trouble where it wasn't needed. In fact, that would be her general rule here if possible, unless a certain gym leader and contest star was dragging her into something funky later. Or, well, perhaps she was just teasing a defenseless girl being crushed in a crowd at an airport. Ugh. Either way, she supposed.

But her gaze would turn back to the friendly cook, baker, and waitress in front of her just in time to hear what came next from Beryl and her admittedly somewhat adorable Wobbuffet.

“I’ll have that special riiiiight out. Don’t you worry. Wobby keep ‘em company would you?”

“Wobbu!” A friendly salute and an excitable grin.

Wobbufett would proceed to take the two to an empty booth, should they want it - though before they could get very far, Clarissa might note that the mood around the betting table had taken on a decidedly less friendly atmosphere…

She didn't need psychic powers to try to figure out how the betting table seemed to feel, but all the same the psychic felt a somewhat cautious vibe in the back of her mind. To that end, she tried to reach out a little bit to get a read on the emotions in the direction of the betting table more specifically. See if she could keep tabs somewhat on the increasingly less-than-friendly atmosphere coming from there already in case anything came their direction. No mind reading, just...trying to keep tabs on the emotional situation there was all a little bit.

Either way she was happy to let the happy Pokemon lead them over to a booth, though along the way even Sir Lopsalot seemed to pick up something of a 'bad vibe' from the table on his own. The Buneary didn't waver in walking next to the Wobbuffet along the way, but his ears seemed to turn toward the table. He'd even glance from the side at it briefly, as if trying to keep tabs on if anything potentially dangerous came in the direction of his trainer. He'd even look to the Wobbuffet breifly to see how the defensive Pokemon reacted to it all, before returning to his own vigil again in turn.

Still, Clarissa had to admit to herself that the smell of cooking food was certainly something pleasing to her nose. The smell of fresh seafood, baked goods cooking in an oven, and the smell of hot frying oils, among other things coming from the direction of the kitchen, were certinaly things that brought a certain sense of calm to mind. Albeit it also made her stomach-

*rumble rumble*

...yeah. She knew that was going to happen again this time at least. But she was still hungry enough from the trip and such thus far, and had not attempted to take up the costly airline snacks. They wanted how much for a simple bag of peanuts?! But she wouldn't lose her cool, and hadn't over the matter either. Just as long as they could get a hot meal in them, pay, and leave without any extra trouble here. Most trouble she wanted to deal with right now was the Murkrow, and they had somewhere to go look for them during the daytime now as well. Perfect for trying to dig up something to catch before the day waxed on too long and she had to book it to the Contest proper.

Though yes, she did need to check and see if Ripley was still willing to wait for her to come back after the contest. Not that he couldn't take up his own business, really, but more just wanting to stick in a group on her part. It was a safety tactic and such even back home, really, and old habits perhaps died hard. Albeit traveling urban or wild landscapes seemed to carry their own dangers here anyways.

"Geez, I'm more hungry than I thought - this place's gotta nice atmosphere, eh?" He pondered allowed, giving Clarissa a nudge with his left foot from across the booth.

The psychic's head had come to rest somewhat on her hands after they'd been properly seated, almost starting blankly down at the table as she'd gone back into thought again. Yet at her compatriot speaking and giving her a subtle nudge, her eyes quickly came back up to look at Ripley without batting an eye. She would likewise keep her tone low and only where she and Ripley could hear, frankly, to try to avoid drawing any notice from those at the betting table. Albeit 'try' was always the best term to use there.

"Yes...a rather interesting atmopshere here really. But it feels more like 'background noise' than anything if we keep to the edges here, perhaps, and don't draw attention or put ourselves in the potential crossfire somehow."

Or draw the ire of the local gym leader at that. Though if it came to a Pokemon battle, for some reason or another, they'd have to be prepared. But a bar fight? Er, that was more random chance if anyone came crashing their direction that needed telekinetically-moved away from hitting them. Worst case she'd have to use her telekinesis to try to protect them otherwise perhaps...and she didn't want to have to really. Not now. Not at the start of everything, and not making any sort of a mess of the nice cafe and most likely Beryl's hard work to boot.

"Bun? Bun. Bun bun?"

At least Sir Lopsalot's ears seemed to be on the job, even if he was trying to chat it up with Beryl's Wobbuffet some more in the meantime. In that vein she was glad he had something to do, though she'd also likely share some bites of food with him when it finally came out fresh and hot. Was a normal habit for the two of them, albeit she'd have to see if Pokemon Centers had any general food for the pokemon of trainers stayying the night there perhaps.

Still, she had to keep her head on her shoulders. Head low. Mouth shut. Keep silent, but stay aware. For a second it really was almost like she was back in Orre again....her home...for better or for worse. Eidda? It...she...well, she didn't know much enough about it yet, really, to comment much at all on anything more than having physically been living in the region for the past two years with her family. Howevver, hopefully the nice hot food would come out and they could eat, pay, and then leave before anything got 'worse' enough. Not that all of this didn't spark some more curiosity in this 'Miss Keira' a bit either on the side, admittedly, for the psychic trainer herself.


It was quite a bit of walking they had to do. They had left early, early enough so that she hadn't been able to do her early morning exercise routine at least. All the same, the mage hadn't wanted to tire herself too much before heading out on the road either. It would be plenty of walking and moving about just to get to where they were going, and if they had to make camp before getting there so be it. Other than that, however, the mage was simply glad she'd been able to meet the new member and get to tell the rest of Second Chance her little side-mission to Cherrad along the way perhaps. In that vein of things, they were perhaps getting closer to said on-the-way destination as well. However...

“These enemies are vulnerable to elemental damage but regular weapons will not touch them,” the paladin told them all. “Unfortunately, there will likely be some innocent people who have had their minds enslaved by the wraith and stand in our way. We will have to spill blood. I know its hard but harden your hearts, because any hesitation will end in your death.”

Well, she was at least better prepared to fight whatever came when they would head into the Temples of Hades. At least in terms of appropriate damage types and so forth. The idea of having to kill innocent mind-warped individuals along the way wasn't exactly one that she looked forward to, though, but it also made sense that they'd have to deal with bloody and tough work. Lillianna herself had never been a soldier. She had tried to 'soldier on' at times, but that was as close as she'd gotten to that outside of the combat and near-death experiences she had within the Mazy Hillocks. Even then, the nightmares still came to her from time to time about her near-death experience....likely would still afflict her for some time to come at that. Easily.

But Barracker had been a curious sight to be introduced to, even if she was the last in the group proper to even get to do so. Albeit his true nature was something of a concern in general, but she could feel 'something' about him or on him that just screamed 'different' in the magical sense. Not that she had some 'extra sight', but-....eh, well it was limited to spirits really. Maybe it was just gut instinct then? Status of being a magic caster in general? Either way, he seemed earnest and willing to work and fight with them. Had some veterancy and experience as well, which was going to be very useful for them moving forward in her mind and was something she had verbally noted being thankful for about him after the two had been introduced.

"Afternoon there, adventurers," he greeted, tipping his hat. "You ain't, per chance, on business in the area, are you?" He pointed back the way he came. "The village of Cherrad's up yonder way. They're in dire straits, right now, what with Hades' Temple gone rogue 'nd all. They've been waiting for the Adventurer's Guild to send some help about that."

“Yes sir, we're Second Chance, and we took the job from the Guild. I'm Adam, it's nice to meet you. It's too bad what's happened there. Is there anything we should know about the temple so we aren't caught off guard? We're not from here so any help would be appreciated.”

Hmm. A friendly passerby was certainly a welcome sight, especially one that had information. Not that they didn't perhaps stand out like a sore thumb as adventureres really. So, eh, it was at least nice to get some information. The mage gave a causal friendly wave with her free hand, even as her other hand held her staff as a walking stick for the time being, but not wanting to interrupt the mage would allow Adam to speak to the man without jutting in verbally. In all honesty, she had gotten the information she wanted and needed from the man regardless without having to say a word! It certainly made things more convenient.

Though...how was Cherrad going to react to her asking around about a dead adventurer? It was certainly something odd, and she wasn't sure if it'd raise eyebrows or open some kind of old wounds. But regardless, she wanted to look into that man's history and past if she could. Learn more about the one who had helped save her life before the group has saved it not too long after she almost threw it away with her own two hands. Even now she still felt a small chill on the back of her neck and uncommfortable warmth in her arms and stomach just thinking about it all. Ugh.

"Oh right!" Rummaging through his pack he found what he was looking for, a set of 10 knives with scabbards greeted him, thanks to the whole "getting thrown in jail" thing he had forgotten he bought these, they weren't daggers or specialized knives, they were just utilitarian blades that he had gotten for his party members, in case they needed them.

One by one he passed them to their new owners "Here, a little extra something in case you ever need it"

"O-Oh, thank you James."

Lillianna accepted the new knife with mild surprise as she was knocked out of her train of thinking once more, but would gingerly put the tool inside of her bag of things for the time being as well. It was just a basic knife for survival utlity, it seemed, but all the same she was glad for it. Anything extra that might prove useful one way or another on or off of the road really. In that vein she was thankful, though hopefuly the passerby had some more good information to hand them in the meantime. Not that it was a guarantee, really, but she felt it prudent to get what they could along the way to the Temple proper. Anytthing that might help them do better, act better, or plan things out better than they'd had the pivledge of last time.

Made her for a second wonder if the souls of those dead party members were still there, back in the Mazy Hillocks, as well. She would, however, lightly shake her head side to side to try to help her brain sift out said thoughts all the same.

"Information? Hmmm," he thought about Adam's question, his eyes searching the party as he did so. "Well, s'gotta be at least twenty cult members up in that temple, to be sure. A small army, it must feel like. They've got weapons, magic and they're not afraid to come out and use 'em on the neigbouring villages."

At least if the wagon driver's information was reliable enough, that was certainly some good information to know ahead of time. Plus with them attacking neighboring villages it meant more trouble, perhaps trouble of the sort that Cherrad proper had tried to petition the Adventurer's Guild to provide help against at that. But no one sending help there? That was perhaps the oddest part unless it didn't pay enough to convince many adventurers to take up the task, among other potential reasons. Not a good sign of things, perhaps, in that sense.

The wagon driver didn't seem to take well to Barracker either, at least from how he looked at the native man in Lillianna's eyes, but in truth the mage wasn't very well-rehearsed on the other man's life and such otherwise. Heck, everyone else had gotten to seemingly know him a bit better than her in one way or another thus far to boot. But the time was still early, and there would be time and experiences to share that would allow her to get to know the other man better. More than that, hopefully this would allow them to better counter the threats ahead somewhat that they had just been informed about to boot.

As he looked at Barracker again, he was suddenly reminded of something that might be useful.

"Actually... there is something you ought'a know. The village of Wensleydale, a couple'a miles on other side o' Temple Hill: A man came to the village, last week, looking for help to rescue some injured folk who'd escaped the cult and were at the bottom of Temple Hill in need of some aid and escort. Wensleydale sent ten of their men with the man to go and get the escapee 'nd bring them back to safety. Only, it turned out t'was a trap. The man was actually a cultist who was luring in unsuspecting villagers for recruitment. One villager managed to get away but told that the rest were beaten and taken prisoner." The wagon driver shook his head. "It'll give a man nightmares wondering how they manage to brainwash innocent people. Be careful adventurers. This cult is not above using deception in it's evil workings."

Well...Barracker had been right about one thing regarding this mission in his warning prior to their departure. Mind controlled or forcibly-indoctrinated people were certainly going to be on the table for this.

Indeed, the would be perhaps to enough of an extent it ouright made the mage feel perhaps reasonably uncomfortable with the thought of having to kill a poor soul like that. Yet at the same time it was something her mind began trying to harden her up for at the same time to cope with the thought. If they were going to try to kill her, then, it stood to reason that she could defend herself and had to defend herself with potentially lethal measures without hesitating about it. This wasn't some modern court that penalized you for killing a knife-wielding robber in your own home, nor was it a perfect situation at all in the general sense really. A mess....was a mess....was a hell of a mess.

And if tropes were any indication, for all she knew Cherrad had a mole for the cult there who had been brainwashed already or something like that. Just ready to mess things up and turn a pit-stop into a madhouse. Ugh. But perhaps she was overthinking thing again in that sense, yes? Maybe it'd be a good side stop and they could gather what she was after there before continuing onward to the Temples of Hades.

Yet still, a light grimace came onto the mage's face as these thoughts crossed her mind, and her hand clutched her staff just a bit tighter.

Clarissa Ryte

Wailord's Rest Cafe, Industrial District, Byjerfal City

(Urban Exploration)

“Oh, you after them Murkrow? Ugh, those nuisances are always bullying Wobby here.” Beryl harrumphed.

“Wobbu…“ Wobbuffet shrunk slightly. Literally, deflating its body a bit at the mention of the Murkrow.

Sir Lopsalot would stare for a moment at the momentarily-deflated Wobbuffet, before lightly hopping off of Clarissa's shoulder. Lightly making his way over to the other Pokemon, the Buneary would lightly pat the sad Wobbuffet in what looked like a consoling sort of manner. Well, do more than just attempt to console the poor bullied Pokemon at least. He seemed to try to chatter with it, as if trying to encourage or motivate the poor soul, though what he was saying in particular was not something a human would likely understand at least.

"Bun...bun bun! Bun bun. Bun? Bun!"

The Buneary then looked back at Clarissa, giving her a small nod as their eyes breifly met, before returning to the other Pokemon to try to socialize with Wobbuffet at least. Though to the psychic trainer, it felt like....ah. Sir Lopsalot was getting even more heated to find those Murkrow himself now, wasn't he? Didn't seem to react until they'd been told the Wobbuffet was being bullied by them anyway. Hmm.

“Normally they ain’t out durin the day but if they were, they’re probably having a scuffle with them Starly that live over in the Resort and Commercial districts. Miss Keira loves those birds. If you wanna find some you might try your luck once night comes? Otherwise I think I saw a few roosting up in the roofs of some of the warehouses. There's a few of 'em normally roost out there by that old toy factory's roof, but uh, not easy getting up there and they usually got a huge flock. As for our menu…”

Miss Keira? That was the second time she'd heard that name mentioned since the airport, actually, from the mouth of the bodyguard who'd been glaring at her after a certain Valarie had pressured her into taking a VIP ticket. Ugh...she still had to go to that too later, unless she wanted to create more trouble for herself in a bad way. Plus it would be a bit too rude to not come, really. But maybe before then she could at least find a Murkrow to catch and call her own. Perhaps even get it to tell the cafe girl there was one less Murkrow to harass her own Pokemon? Er, she was still trying to think things through if they got to that point even.

"Who is Miss Keira, by the way? Someone at the airport earlier mentioned her near me as well, really, and that she likes Buneary as well. I'm a bit curious now."

It was certinaly a question worth asking now, since someone else had mentioned the mysterious woman's name. But to like the Murkrow as well as Buneary? A peculiar sort of style this person had when it came to Pokemon. Felt oddly familiar to her own tastes for the moment being, at least, as well.

But they at least had some information on where to go for getting a Murkrow during the daytime too. Old toy factory, she'd said? Plus resting in the roof of some warehouses at that. Could also wait for the night and after the contest and so forth was all over with as well, perhaps, but it at least made them easier to look for in terms of 'location' if nothing else. Though marching all the way to the Commercial District again or all the way to the Resort District just to look for Murkrow fighting the local Starly was not something of a motivator after making their way all the way over here. Hmm.

Beryl grinned, taking a few steps towards Clarissa. “...welll…how about this. Since you’re new trainers and its ya first time here how about I do a little favor. Half price anything ya want. As for our special, well, today its a stew made with fresh deep-sea fish, served with a loaf of fresh bread, and a few other things I would definitely totally recommend, promise.”

E-Eh?! The psychic was taken a little aback as she was snapped out of her thoughts by Beryl stepping a bit closer and grinning at her. Reminded her of Valarie back in the airport, and...ahhhhhabababababa...that was not something that was a fun memory right now at least. However, it was not nearly as disruptive as the crowded airport had been for her nerves if nothing else. Didn't feel as...'intrusive' either? That felt like the right word. Still, Beryl was enough to lightly rustle the psychic trainer for a brief moment before she returned to her usual re-asserted level of calm once more. This time at least without another nervous stu-

"T-Thank you, Miss Beryl, for your generosity. I'd be interested in the special for today, a-actually."

-never mind. Dangit.

Yet on a more famliar note, her family had been to the harbor before back in Orre and had some food there once in a while at the restaurant there. In that vein seafood wasn't a common thing for her, but it had been special to go out as a family in those days when they could spend time together. Her father was gone for long periods of time back when they lived in Orre, and it had been a bit lonely to say the least sometimes. Enough to get them to visit the lab and such every so often to see him, maybe talk a bit, before having to make the trip back home again. Sometimes he'd invite them along if he had to go to the port to oversee another import of Pokemon to the region on behalf of the lab. So the idea of a good stew with fresh bread and such was....a bit nostalgic to her as it had been described, really, if nothing else.

@Lugubrious (See the above post. Apologies for forgetting your tag, and @Tortoise I will not be doing this mini tag-post again in the IC, please forgive me. T_T)
Knossos Dreamwalker

At the mention of Ilgirian Red, Gru perked up slightly, stroking his whiskers as he cracked an intrigued smile that showed just the faintest hint of his crooked teeth. “An infusion, hmm? Well, you’ve come to the right place Mr. Dreamwalker. For a cheesemaker of my caliber, it’s certainly possible…” His eyes narrowed slightly as he pursed his lips, a hint of his general annoyance allowed to seep through in a way that invited sympathy.

Good old Gru certainly had his way about things, but despite many things about his person that scared some potential buyers from the man the occultist knew Gru's business sense and product quality were of a solid quality. But it was this part about the wine that he had figured would entice the cheesemaker most, at least based on his own gut instincts and observations of the rat-loving man thus far. A rare fine wine of appropriate value and cost that might tantalize the senses of a savvy businessman like a rat to cheese, and help make him more pliable for such a request in turn of course, no?

But that side, it seemed the interest was piqued well enough to get Gru thinking. Pondering. Schemeing? Whatever the case, the older occultist smiled back a little more for a moment.

“Unfortunately, I’m afraid there’s a little…snag. For the chemical processes to proceed as they must, the wine infusion must occur in the curd stage, before the cheese is brined, introduced to mold, and aged. I’m sure I need not spell it out for someone as keen as yourself, but with no fresh milk for over a week now, my entire cheesemaking enterprise has tragically stopped dead.”

“Rest assured, however, that once I obtain fresh ingredients, I will be able to do all you’ve asked and more. And since you’re supplying the wine, why, I’ll even infuse it at no additional cost. A custom ‘Ubriaco Ilgirio’, how does that sound?” Gru tempted his fingers, peering at Knossos. “If you like, I can take the bottle off your hands so that it’s on hand the moment I’m able to begin. Rest assured it will be safe and secure in my rack–and that I’d never dream of appropriating any for myself, of course.”

Hmmm. That was certainly a bit of a sore spot for getting such a cheese made. It certainly wouldn't do for getting his request fulfilled sooner rather than later, but alas it was the way of the world that (in more areas than one) a lack of resources brought on complications and other problems as a result. Poor Gru was simply devastated he couldn't being work as soon as he could on this....haha. Ah, he held no ill-will to the miserly man, truly, but the man knew how to do business well. Albeit something about the man in a minor sense reminded him of some of thoser he'd met in the old cults still, perhaps in the sense of business-oriented charisma and shrewdness in business dealings some of them had engaged in prior to get what they wanted.

"I can certainly get the bottle to you this evening, after I help deal with the current problems Athulwin has summoned me for. Perhaps I could even find a couple small glasses in my things before then, that we could perhaps get but a small taste before I hand you the rest, hmm?. Ah, but ultimately I naturally do trust your judgement and rack to keep the bottle safe of course. You are a superb businessman, one whose product quality and integrity speaks volumes."

It was also this sort of thing Knossos had felt was one of the factors that kept the caravan's constant traveling fresh and exciting, running into those with differing skills and enigma about them. Getting to comission and try new things. See new places. Etc. Well, all of these among a number of other factors or such things of course. But as long as they were all peaceable and no harm was done, all was well. Good business was also its own reward, and even he could understand that logic in his own field.

"A fine large wheel of 'Ubriaco Ilgirio' should frankly be quite an exquisite product, no? Though once the final product is finished and handed over proper...well, I've no use for 'leftovers' of the wine at that stage of things, yes? But there'd be no sense letting such go to waste either.

But until then, I shall see you later! I do not wish to arrive too late to the business at hand. Espeically with regards to our more 'exciteable' members as it were..."

One could call it a 'small bonus' if anything, perhaps, a small token gift to the cheesemaker for him to enjoy. Or, well, if the rats bothered to drink at all either for that matter. Perhaps they'd even wear fancy tiny hats when doing so? Haha! But yes, it would do nicely.

In that vein the occultist would give a polite farewell wave to the cheesemaker before he would begin walking along once more, hoping to move along and get to the front of the caravan before it was too late. He wasn't lying as his tone has slightly shifted when mentioning the 'exciteable' members of their company. Good people for the most part at least, but if he had to stop a certain someone from animating ANOTHER wooden wagon or bail someone out of a occult situation after being late to the party....yeah. It wasn't always the most pretty sort of thing to have to deal with. Likely wouldn't be the last time for something like that really. That and they had the forest to worry about as well!

Hmm, perhaps he'd give Athulwin a message to pass around via messengers, so hopefully the others could be careful enough to not anger the living being surrounding them in the literal sense. That seemed like a goo-

Sometime Later


All Knossos had managed was a passing mention to Athulwin about 'tell them to not hack down a bunch of living limbs or trees' and he'd had to hit the road in a hurry to catch up. In particular, he had to catch up with a party of people seeking to just run in and fight the undead. Yes, because attacking first and asking questions later worked for just everything! Well, in some cases it was the best really. Just was not the best in every situation, and in this case if the information he'd gotten from Athulwin was right then the undead were seemingly just trying to scare off or talk to others for the moment being. Hopefully. Key word being hopefully.

Yet the eventually palpable presence of dark energies in the distane did catch his more megically-inclined senses, however, and was at least one way to find a 'tomb filled with undead' yes. the closer the Dreamwalker came to the destination, though, the more nuances he felt somewhat coming from it as well as he felt its energies from afar somewhat. A sort of 'oldness', more like 'ancient-ness' really, and the bustling of negative emotions that were such a swirling and winding cluster overall it made them harder to pick out individually. It differed rather starkly from how the presence of the forest itself, and the thrum of life and magic that seemed to course through it like lifeblood in one way or another.

Likewise, though, the atmosphere of things as he began to get within a certain distance of the tombs began to palpably change to him. Denser. Grosser. Fouler. 'Ickier', even, were among the terms he could apply to it from his own perspective. So too could he describe it as feeling 'warped' and 'twisted' in the magical sense. All of this more so the deeper he got in! Like a sort of anger or ill-intent was in the air, perhaps on the part of the still pulsing-with-life forest, which was focused on the tombs the closer one got to them? Maybe it was something stemming from the tombs. Or perhaps it was something else, like a malignant curse, pechance? The sort born from areas where mass deaths had occured, or where a great deal of intense emotions infused into an area or place amalgamated into something of or like unto a curse naturally. Yet this too was simply a guess to the occultist, as all he knew for sure was that he didn't like what he was feeling.

However, familiar figures would eventually come into view as the older man ran over, waving at the group in a sligtly exasperated manner as he jogged over to them with a final burst of energy.

The tomb loomed ahead, a shadowy edifice standing in stark contrast to the surrounding forest. It was a place of foreboding darkness and chilling silence. The once-green canopy of trees gave way to gnarled, skeletal branches that clawed at the sky, casting elongated, eerie shadows that seemed to reach out towards any intruders.

The entrance to the tomb was an imposing archway, its stone facade weathered and cracked with age. The carvings that adorned the entrance had long lost their intricate details, leaving only ominous, indistinct shapes. The air around the tomb was unnaturally cold, as though it sapped the warmth from anyone who dared approach.

The tomb's entrance yawned open, like a hungry maw, inviting others into its dark depths and a spooky mist hung around the entrance, enhancing the dreadful feeling. The very walls seemed to whisper with a mournful, spectral wind that sent shivers down their spines.

Still didn't make the location any more pleasant, especially as the swirling of dark energies and magic hit its climax as he approached the primary entrance to the tombs proper. It was disgusting, it was horrible, and yet it was something he almost felt oddly comfortable in at the same time. It was both reminiscent of the final place he'd joined a cult, really, after the...disaster had occured. Ahem. Yes. Now that memory wasn't a pleasant one, sending a small shiver down his spine. Luckily, though, it was not as overwhemlingly potent in this aura by far as that 'other' place had been to him back then.

And if they were lucky, they'd never travel by that place ever. Ever. Never ever, even.

"Thank goodness you three haven't gone in yet," Knossos said, his breaths still trying to catch up from his sprint to catch up with them from a little ways behind admittedly, as he tried to address the group, "There's no telling what kind of undead lurk here, but the information Athulwin got noted that something talked to the other people who came by here. If there's any chance the same thing approached us, we could at least try to see if-"

Clack Clack Clatter


The occultist's eyes were drawn toward the entrance to the tombs, mostly as a sound began to faintly emanate from it.

Clatter Clatter Clack

A rustling sound, like many pieces of wod clacking and clattering together in the wind after being suspended by rope or string. It didn't sound very hasty, for what it was worth, more like it was casually-moving in some sense. Ah, akin to a gentle breeze if he went back to the wood example he'd made in his mind there. Yet all the same, the noise was getting louder and closer as it seemingly came closer to them. So too, as it got closer, would the light rapping of metal against metal be audible in turn. Even the sound of something dragging a bit, really...

...perhaps he was getting his wish to see what those who had talked to Athulwin had seen. Maybe. Right? If it was, perhaps they'd get a change to at least hear it speak or something. In that vein, the occultist would reach quickly into his the bag attached to his hip to try to fish out the right tome. He didn't much have normal magic to work with, and so he hoped to grab something to help him 'translate' potentially.

Albeit he had no idea how the others would react to all of this. Galaxor was a fight-happy height-challenged giant in what little time he'd tried to talk with or been around the man. Ivraan seemed to be the adventerous and optimistic sort, and he'd been able to get more of a read on the younger half-elf in at least the past three years. And Nemeia had been at least peaceful and such on the average seemingly, he'd come to respect that, but he'd also seen a fair share if not more so of foreign clerics and paladins who went 'SMITE SMITE SMITE' first and asked questions later and always worried about that. Far from 'all' of the ones he'd seen having been like that most definitely, but that had been a sort of thing he'd seen among such professions before in some places at least and did worry about yes.

"Here's to hoping whatever is coming wants to also just talk to us first..."

Or it would all fall apart in less than ten seconds of whatever it was becoming visible to the group. Either way, right? But at least whatever was coming wasn't moving fast by any means for the time being.

@twannyman@Timemaster@Abstract Proxy

Location: Queens, New York; Avengers Academy

To fly at the speed of Mach 1 was something he had become accustomed enough to by this point in time, and yet he attempted to imagine how it would be for a 'normal person'. Hmm. Terrifying? Exciting? He could only take a swing and a guess at this point as the Aegis zoomed along through the air, moving along with what seemed like all the wanton speed of a reckless teenager but was really the piloting of a most skilled operator. It was cheaper and frankly more efficient if he flew himself to the Academy, though admittedly SHIELD had wanted to transport the suit and him separately to get to a designated airport beforehand. From there he'd gotten permission to fly to the Academy proper from ah....well, a ways from outside of New York at least. Either way he could cross the distance in record time, and he'd chosen to breifly test hitting Mach 1 for the time being on his way over.

The urban landscape was certainly something to behold as he zoomed in, even if Jason couldn't fully stop his brain from observing vantage points and taking mental notes of potential places to take up cover. All the same, he could notice the occasional turned head as he streaked by. This was the home turf of one "Iron Man", though....ahem. Yes, he hoped there wouldn't be any confusion in this particular situation with the locals residents. It would be a bit awkward to have to tell people Iron Man wasn't suddenly flying in the skies again right now. Er....would it be that awkward at least? He hadn't a single idea, but it wasn't enough to frazzle him one bit as the red-suited pilot directed himself toward the Academy as his sensors gave him constant data and updates along the way (among other things).

Yet as he neared his visible destination, sensors giving him a picture of the courtyard statue to see ahead of time-

'Superhuman vital signs detected in concentration. Analyzing...

Courtyard: Eight vital signs.

Nearby Street: Three vital signs.

Perform threat analysis?'

No, no he didn't need a threat analysis at this point in time. Not that he was going into a hostile location though, at least in theory, but while he had already browsed the address and GPS location prior it simply helped further confirm things to a perhaps 'excessive' degree. Whatever the case, the frontal thrusters began to kick in as 'Alcidies' sought to slow down in a calculated hurry. Didn't want to overshoot his destination, nor did he really want to just land in the courtyard too directly perhaps either. Hmm. Property damage was not something cheap, from what he'd learned of things, even if the ones funding the Academy were certianly on the wealthier side.

Even so, as he began his landing the younger man would leave a last message over the comms to the airport team who had brought him in.

'Arriving at the destination and proceeding to land, over.

Is anything else needed on your end?'

'Roger that, Alcides. Field team will be cutting the channel and returning to base. Over and out.'

Streetside, close enough to the parents and 'Uncle' of the 'Crimson Angel' herself, a suit of armor would seem to almost fall out of the sky as it came to a stop and tried to make a landing. Albeit the pilot inside of said suit had seen where they were and adjusted his landing accordingly during his descent, using thrusters to slow himself to some extent. Though rather than a gentle landing-


-...he had always wanted to do one of those 'heroic landings' really. Taking a knee with a fist hitting the ground below to help stop him. Call it a 'guilty pleasure' the armored Jason had wanted to indulge for but a moment of breif unprofessionalism, as it were, though at least the impact hadn't been enough to break the sidewalk beyond a good many 'milder' cracks now visioble all over the surface of said segments of sidewalk admittedly. With a smooth motion the armored future-hero would stand back up, looking at the damage with a mild sigh of self-dissapointment audible from his helmet before looking back at the three older heroes behind him.

"Apologies for the sudden landing. Was a narrow landing window on my end, and I slightly miscalculated the thrust to slow my decent."

With an attempt at a small nod to the three, the red armored suit walked forward to go into the courtyard. Had anyone else heard that? Er, someone had likely heard it from inside...yes. But maybe it'd make his method of arrival a little less startling? Hmm. Either way Jason would try to shake it off as he walked inside, his breathing steady and his stride both disciplined and professional. He didn't want to come off as a reckless child, but all the same he would make a proper introduction while he had the chance. Not that he was the first to arrive here anyways, or had been aiming to be such at that.

As he walked into the courtyard, the visage of the obvvious statue itself loomed overhead above Jason like a towering monument. Which is, well, perhaps just what it was really. His suit's sensors could make out the faces of those depicted on it rapidly, though it made the child soldier wonder how much they had to pay to make such a piece. Mostly given how many were, well, depicted by the statue itself! There had been quite a lot of Avengers before, hadn't there? However, he had to compliment the structural integrity of the piece based on initial analysis of its composition. A good structure and artistic piece, but ill-suited to hiding behind in combat.

"It's not about where you were born, or what powers you have, or what you wear in your chest; it's about what you do."

Yet as his vision caught the plaque at the bottom, he couldn't hlep but stop for a moment and take a breif pause of (continued) silence. A message directed to try to encourage the newcoming 'students', no doubt, and yet it felt like a small chord was struck within his brain all the same. 'It's about what you do'. Wasn't the first time he'd heard that, albeit the first time had been in a conversation, but it was also a gopd reminder that perhaps Mr. Wilson would be already on the premises here somewhere as well. At least, whenever he ran into the man again or the like.

Giving another small, but respectuflly-intended, nod at the statue, he would walk further into the courtyard of the Academy. Walking toward the jolly green giant he could see even without the suit on, Jason would in turn walk somewhat up toward Professor Hulk and the seeming ensemble of fellow students forming around him. The helmet on the suit would then retract, as while he wasn't walking up to shake his hadn or anything he did want to get close enough to give a proper greeting at least.

"Greetings, Headmaster. Jason Smith, reporting in. I'll rest a short bit before moving my suit to the garage as I was instructed prior to my arrival."

With that, and another brief yet small nod to his new Headmaster, Jason would begin walking to the side and away from the crowd to find a spot to sit on the grass. Somewhere out of the path, but not too far away from another younger man who seemed to be sitting on a stone bench close to where the armored soon-to-be hero decided to sit down gently on the grass. Even so, Jason left his helmet down. pulling one leg close as he tilted his head back to look up at the blue sky above him. He then closed his eyes, took in a slow but deep breath, and let it out just as slowly.

It was the second-ever 'first day of school' he'd ever had, technically speaking, but at least this time it was a more pleasant one entirely than the previous instance. He was already thankful for that much.

Clarissa Ryte

Wailord's Rest Cafe, Industrial District, Byjerfal City

(Urban Exploration)

So far Ripley seemed to be going along for the ride, in a sense, rather than differ much for the time being. Hmm. Well, if the boy wanted to interject with someting she'd at least listen. Otherwise, for now it seemed, they would head on to the cafe to get a look at things. Perhaps they could find some good information here, or if nothing else a battle or so to train their existing Pokemon some if nothing else. But more so the psychic wanted to see if there was anything that could lead them to those dark bird Pokemon. What had Ripley called them again? 'Murkrow'? Seemed curious enough a creature if nothing else, so catching one felt like something she herself wanted to do. Ripley seemed well enough to catching one himself, perhaps, at that. That much was a small relief.

Yet as they entered the cafe proper-

“Gooood afternoon people! Welcome to Wailords rest! I’m your server this evening.”

“Wobbuffet!” A salute and a friendly greeting from a Wobbuffet standing next to her echoed her friendly greeting.

“Technically, also the only server! And chef! First time here? You don’t look like our usual clientele. We’ve got everything you could want! From hearty fresh sea-food, luscious fresh never frozen greens and I can make you any cake you want! The names Beryl, by the way!”
Beryl - The Sweetest Chef in Byjerfal

Clarissa nearly jumped out of her skin at the sudden surprise, having been looking to the side as they walked in for a moment, even if Sir Lopsalot wasn't quite as surprised as her perhaps. This before letting out a small but quiet sigh as she regained her composure once more. In and out. Breathe. Whew. The woman seemed at least happy and cheery, and the peculiar blue Pokemon with her was certianly a sight of its own. It did make sense to note the two of them weren't exactly 'local' or 'standard' clientele perhaps, but a warm welcome was certinaly not a bad thing either in this case perhaps.

Either way, she didn't want to get overly sidetracked before moving in on their quarry. In that vein the psychic would extend her powers out some, simply seeking to get a read of emotions in the room. Just in case anything suspicious or pertinent might come up if they had to ask around a bit for potential information. Likewise Clarissa raised up her, might as well call it a Pokedex, device to get information on the Pokemon Beryl had with her. Might as well, right? No harm no foul.

"It's good to meet you, Miss Beryl. We're actually a couple of new trainers who are trying to track down some Murkrow we followed in this direction, and are curious if you or anyone you might know here would know where they could be hiding really."

The woman had also mentioned quite a bit of food though. Sure she didn't have big jet lag or such, it was a rather local flight she'd taken to get to Byjerfal City after all, but she hadn't eaten since before the flight either. At the same time, though, she didn't want to spend too much money to start off with! She had to battle other trainers to get some change, and as it was they only had five Pokeballs and not many potions each. Had to think of supplies as well, and-

*rumble grumble*

"Bun. Bun bun bun bun!"

Sir Lopsalot lightly tapped the back of her head, even as the psychic breifly put a hand to her own loudly rumbling stomach. Yes...she hadn't quite had too much food as of yet. Had to eat something before they left, perhaps? Maybe. Ugh. Perhaps she should have packed those food bars her mom had wanted to send her with, weight of them she would ahve to carry be damned. The bunny himself was oft to comment on suich things, given her own propensity to...e-er...sometimes get too absorbed into what she was doing r-really.

"A-Also I'm curious if you have anything on the cheaper end of things on the menu, perhaps? Or some kind of special maybe?"

The psychic's tone was slightly defeated sounding by nature, even as she tried to stay courdial and professional in her manner.

Clarissa had heard cafes or such might have such a thing as a 'special', right? Or at least the few restaurants she'd ever been to seemed to have one back in Orre. But this wasn't Orre anymore, even if the presence of the Sailors was certainly one she was more accustomed to, it was Eidda and she was trying to find some Pokemon to catch! Then they could go wherever Ripley wanted next, hopefully after trying to bag a Murkrow and doing so. Mostly she wanted to get back out there more than not, but all the same she couldn't go hungry without hurting herself in the process. And Sir Lopsalot going hungry....no. She wasn't going to let that happen ever again if she could help it.

Her head turned back toward Ripley and his own little Pokemon in turn, hoping to get their thoughts on maybe a small bite to eat as they sought after information here before heading back out there.

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