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Eryn Montero

Route 5 || Day 4: Night || @PlatinumSkink

Eryn made a beeline for the lake, setting up on a flat rock overlooking the waters when she got there. A glance around showed no Carvanha, so she bent down, easing Tula into the water.

“There we go, all nice and comfy,” she said, letting go of Tula. The Magikarp bobbed underneath the laketop, resurfacing with a wiggle of her fins.

“Perfect. Now, this might be a little dangerous, so don’t go too far, but could you try and find me a wild to take us into the ruins? Just poke around and see if any of the lake dwellers are interested in a short adventure. I’ll catch them in a Pokeball, yes, but I’ll release right after. And, you know,” Eryn said, grinning, “if they’re tough enough that the Carvanha stay away, that’d be a bonus.”

Tula bobbed in the water again, wiggling her fins, then disappeared into the water. After few seconds of staring at the water, Eryn paused, swinging her backpack around to rummage around in it.

“Ahah,” she said, pulling out her Old Rod. “Darryl’s gift was useful. Now, let’s see, how do you do this again… ”

A minute or so of experimenting with the rod later, Eryn cast the line, settling in against Peri, who’d coiled up against the rock she’d chosen, settling her head on top to create the perfect surface for Eryn to lean against. Beside her, Dei and Eri were still chatting, Eri turning into a Lunatone and cluing Eryn into the subject likely at hand.

“You two having fun in your little two-person club over there?” she asked, nudging Peri. “Look at those wannabes, being all exclusive.”

Eri looked to Dei, who puffed some smoke crossing his arms. At that, Eryn snickered, Peri joining in with some grating noises. Dei, however, looked very much unamused, electing instead to turn away and ignore both of them, continuing the conversation with Eri.

“Aw, he's so cute,” Eryn said, adjusting her grip on the fishing rod. Another snort told her Dei had heard her comment, and she grinned, petting Peri.“Hopefully Tutu found something, because I’m not getting any bites here.”




Essie Hietz

Route 2 || Day 1: Late Morning

Route 2 was unlike any route Essie was used to, opening with a slew of shops rather than open land. Staring at the various signs as she passed, she wondered whether there was any truth to the outrageous placards. The first few had been pretty reasonable, with a breeder-run healing service Essie noted for later, but later on down the route, the claims began spiralling. Magikarp scales marketed as miracle cures, Rare Candies going for so cheap the shopkeep was either dumb or dying—or both. Wasn’t there some old people disease that made them forget things? Maybe that’s what was happening.

“Well, that’s lunch taken care of,” Essie said, spotting a curry place setting up, a board titled ‘Brittanium’s World-famous Curry’ propped up beside it. “But it’s still a bit early. What do you two say about a bit of training?”

A happy squawk and slow nod later, Essie was off finding a quiet spot further down the road, where she stopped to allow Mica to swoop down from her shoulder. “Right. Mica, let’s work on your Supersonic. Your aim isn’t that great right now, but if you hit, well, let’s just say your voice is loud enough. Try it against Todd. If you confuse him, I’ll return him, and we’ll be fine.”

Mica squawked happily at Todd, who didn’t look too enthusiastic about the idea. Still, the Torkoal didn’t complain either, turning around to face Mica with a resigned puff of smoke.

“Oh Todd, remember that thing we talked about? The lava-that-won’t-cool-too-quickly thing? Let’s try that out,” Essie said. When Todd looked at her, giving her a questioning ‘Tor,” she shook her head. “No, no, not at Mica. At wherever. Let’s focus on making lava pools since we already know you can hit a target.”

Todd nodded, and Mica squawked again, flapping up from the ground.

Essie grinned. “Let’s do this! Todd, Lava Plume! Mica, Supersonic!”

Now, the first few times Mica missed entirely, and Todd’s lava stayed molten for only seconds longer than usual. Still, as they kept it up, minute improvements started stacking. Slowly, Mica managed to swap the high-pitched shrieks she was doing for lower pitched ones in exchange for increased volume, under Essie’s suggestion, and Todd managed to break through a temperature plateau to rapidly increase the lava’s cooling time. How he did that was anyone’s guess, but Essie was happy anyway.

“Alright, c’mon back, Todd,” Essie said, recalling the Torkoal after Mica managed to confuse him yet again. She grinned as Mica landed on her shoulder, she let Todd out again, setting her hands on her hips triumphantly, noting that some of the lava Todd had spouted had still yet to cool.

“Good job, you two. Really. I’m proud,” she said. “Now, let’s pop by the forest over there and take a look before getting lunch. I’m pretty sure we’re closer to it than the shops.”

As soon as she entered the route, though, a blur of black and white came swooping out of the trees, aiming right at her face. Mica was on it, though, flying forwards and aiming a Supersonic at the object, and the battle was on.


“C’mon Todd, let’s head back,” Essie said, leading the way back to the main route. She could’ve noticed that the Starly’s attack had hit harder than she’d assumed, but she didn’t. Sure, it was clear that her training had helped Mica out, but Mica was still pretty weak. Even the wilds were a bit strong for her.

A light headbutt from Todd prompted her to glance at her Torkoal, and she brightened up again, sighing. “Yeah, you’re right. We’ll just have to do a bit more training, which reminds me—what should we name your new moves? How about ‘ultrasonic’ and lava… um… strike!”

Todd gave her a funny look and she shrugged. “What, I don’t have any better ideas.”

Back on the main road, she got both her Pokemon spruced up at the healing shed, taking a second to chat with the breeder manning the stall and thanking them for their help. Her stomach growling signalled that it was time to leave, and she quickly redirected her team toward the food stalls, where she got into the long line for Brittanian curry. Noon was upon the route, and the

“Wow, this place sure is popular,” she said, peering out to the side to admire the line. It wasn’t the longest line she’d ever been in—breeder show meet-and-greets were ridiculous too—but it was longer than the lines at the rest of the food stalls, looking to be at least a few minutes.

“Of course, Brittanian curry is the best. I’m getting my second bowl,” someone said from behind her. “The spicy sauce is where it’s at.”

“What? Spicy? Excuse you, true Brittanians get the sweet sauce,” another voice said.

“... Well, I don’t know about you all, but I think the sour flavor is pretty good,” yet another voice said.

Essie looked back and forth between the line, trying to figure out which of the options sounded most appetizing to her, and by the time she arrived at the front of the line, she’d found her answer. “Large bowl of spicy, sweet, and sour sauce please!” she told the vendor, who paused his writing, looking up with furrowed brows. “I heard they’re all good, so just mix them. Good and good makes good, right?”

The vendor opened his mouth, shut it, opened it again, then shut it again, pursing his lips. “Whatever you say, missy,” he said, writing her order down, and Essie happily paid and took her number, picking up her mysteriously-colored bowl of curry and plopping it down onto an empty picnic table when her order was called.

“Mm-mm! Doesn’t that smell good?” she asked, admiring the scent of the curry, which was quite spectacular if she did say so herself. While it had the telltale smell of Tamato berries, it also smelled of sweet Mago and tangy Grepa, which altogether created a noseful of scents.

“Dig in, you two,” Essie said, divvying the portions into two smaller bowls for her Pokemon. “Ahhm.”

For the first second or so, the curry tasted interesting. Confusingly so. Then, it tasted pretty horrid, but by the time it went down, it was back to tasting okay. The aftertaste—well, it was nothing to write home about, but it wasn’t bad.

“Hm, I wonder if it tastes funny because they didn’t add enough sour sauce,” Essie said, looking to her Pokemon. Mica perked up when she looked over, squawking happily without touching her curry, and Todd managed a croaky ‘Tor,’ wincing as he attempted another bite.

“Oh, is it too hot? Well, I mean, you’re a fire-type, Todd. I thought you’d be able to handle it, but if not, well,” Essie said, shrugging.






Keaton Plasse


Keaton stared at the camera on her laptop incredulously. “Cara, I’m an architecture major, not an arts major.”

“Yes, Keaton, but I’m assigning you an art project anyway. Think of it as a destresser this finals season,” Cara said, sounding more amused than Keaton necessarily liked.

“Can I decline?”

“Nope.”

“... What if I don’t do it?”

“I’ll give you an ‘incomplete’ mark for your semester.”

“And if I submit a blank canvas?”

“Give it a chance. You just might like it.”

Keaton sighed, half tempted to point out that Cara didn’t answer her question, half encouraged to go through with the plan regardless of the results. Assigning her an art assignment to ‘destress’ her was hardly fair. Besides the fact that any assignment, well-meant or not, would only provide another source of stress, she was already plenty busy without the extra assignment. Plus, she couldn’t even remember the last time she’d tried drawing something. Freshman year? Maybe, but nothing worth mentioning. High school? Then, probably, but that felt so distant it may as well have been another person altogether.

“What’s the point, Cara? Why even bother with all of this? I know you decreased my workload this semester, and don’t even get me started on how you’ve excused me from studio,” she said, crossing her arms and sitting back in her chair. She sounded like some spoiled child, complaining about having an easier time, but it was true. What was the point of masquerading around, pretending that she had any desire to get a degree at this point? With her power, she had many options that were far more lucrative than working in an architecture firm. She could trade stocks, invest in real estate, or bet on sports. Sure she might not always be able to come up with a bet to place, but she’d never bet wrong, and being able to guarantee profit was more than enough. That is, if she was even allowed to walk away after leaving The Promise. More likely than not, she’d be locked into some job for the government. That’s what they did—were doing.

“Miss Plasse, The Promise is a rehabilitation center, but it is also an academy. It is founded on the belief that every parahuman deserves a second chance a—”

“You know what, never mind. Forget I asked,” Keaton said, uncrossing her arms. “Just send over the projects. Might as well get started now and get them out of the way.”

Her laptop pinged, and she opened up the rubric for the art project. “... ‘No architecture-related submissions will be accepted’? Cara, you do realize I’m going to submit a stick figure, right?”

“Have fun with it, Keaton,” Cara said, her tone again betraying her amusement.



Bananas or apples? Apples. Eli seemed like an apple person.

Placing some into her grocery basket, Keaton continued strolling, wondering whether she should pick up some takeout for good measure. Eli wasn’t bedridden anymore, had even started leaving the house, but she still didn’t have much of an appetite. Keaton’s fix for that was buying her food since seeing food around might force her to consider eating it. She’d done the same for a friend in college, who later got diagnosed with depression. While Eli’s case was nothing as serious, Keaton figured she’d still do what she could. A support system was key in times like these, and Eli seemed like she could use some more support.

Given that Keaton now had two jobs on top of school, she was pretty hard-pressed for time, but she managed to block out chunks some nights for some movies at Eli’s. Her being there and eating encouraged Eli to eat along with her, and it wasn’t as if she didn’t like watching movies late at night. If cliche romance movies had one thing in common with trashy horror movies, it was that both were great to watch over food, with friends, while groaning and critiquing every mistake the protagonists made. In fact, even though she and Eli spent most of their time bashing the movies instead of watching them, they went through enough movies to make Keaton doubt whether they actually hated them all that much. After all, they could choose to watch quality movies instead, but somehow that had never occurred to them.

As she exited the store, she wondered briefly whether Eli would like the book she’d picked out. ‘On Crimes and Punishments’ by Cesare Beccaria was a book she’d at first thought to be the famous ‘Crime and Punishment’. Only by flipping to the back cover did she realize that she’d gotten the titles mixed up, but somehow it still seemed like something Eli would enjoy. Based on how much Eli loved thrashing period romcoms for their historical mistakes, it was clear Eli enjoyed history, and she also seemed to like horror movies about serial killers more than those about paranormal happenings. That said, a self-labeled treatise dating back to the Italian Enlightenment didn’t exactly sound fun to Keaton, much less the part about ‘condemning the death penalty,’ but that was her. She knew Eli liked history and crime, so unless the bookstore she worked for came into possession of a copy of ‘Crime and Punishment’ soon, this was as good as it was getting.



Getting a job with The Promise staff was the easy part. There were lots of jobs to be done—custodial, managerial, and general labor, just to count a few. The tricky part was getting assigned to the right job. With the ship getting monthly supply drops from Earth, time was of the essence, but that resolved when Keaton got the job she wanted: identifying and tagging boxes and packages. It was an easy job, in many ways, but it required a decent amount of basic memorization and inference. That, however, was covered by Keaton’s power, as was the introductory period of the job, which Keaton breezed through. Being able to check her work made picking up new jobs a simple task, and soon enough Keaton was well-integrated into the system of getting packages where they needed to go. Since the mail system aboard The Promise was an automated one, packages needed only to be tagged and left out back for the machines to pick up. Package taggers factored in when there was a problem, or when a package was being delivered to a staff building. Security measures and such were present, one of which allowed Keaton to examine package contents, which was why she’d signed up for the job in the first place.

The job, though, was largely a dull one. Mostly it was just approving boxes of food and supplies going to one staff department to another. Given that the next big supply drop would come with the next ship of students, there wasn’t anything major being moved, which Keaton figured was about right. Letting student workers handle sensitive material was a careless move. Besides, it wasn’t as if she was allowed to handle paper files or such. Those boxes were transferred directly by the staff, to the staff, which was the only correct move.

Today, she was on x-ray duty, looking at scan after scan of box contents as she approved them for the system. Why this wasn’t automated like the rest of the process was beyond her, but she was thankful she got the up close and personal look, even if she’d yet to find anything. Boxes of fruits or vegetables passed through the scanner, Keaton hedging her bet on tomatoes, then oranges when more than two boxes passed by. After that it was boxes of clothes, blankets, then books.

Something near the top of the box of books caught her eye, and she frowned, staring at the object on the screen. Was that… a bag of pacifiers? It sure looked that way from the scan, and she kept her eyes on the box as it came out, noting the size and design, then the package number and address. ‘The Spire.’ That wasn’t surprising, but Keaton was trying not to jump to conclusions—had been trying for a while. A bib or stuffed animal here and there was a red flag for her, but she’d heard of staff members with families on board. A whole bag of pacifiers, though, was a lot more incriminating than a bear or two, even if no self-respecting teen would ever admit to bringing a stuffed animal on board with them. With one or two, Keaton couldn’t discount confiscations, but she could for a bag. There were at least ten—more than enough for a family, even a few.

As for the location, The Spire was known to all, visible through any window on the correct side of the ship. Though Keaton hadn’t been able to dig up many details about what went on there, it was pretty clear that it was where the staff resided and operated from. R&D went on there, but there were many types of R&D. Some were harmless, like the type that made Radvi his chips. Some, though, were not, and mixing the harmless with the not-so-harmless seemed like a hassle. But, then again, this was the staff, and Keaton had learned not to bet on things being unlikely.

“Hey Liz, you free? I think I saw something in one of the boxes. The one over there—red tag, for The Spire,” Keaton said, pausing the belt and pointing out the package.

“This one?” Liz asked, putting away her phone and pointing to the package. Keaton nodded, and Liz stuck her key card in, popping open the lid as Keaton walked over. Inside was the bag of pacifiers from seen earlier, all twelve of them, but there were also books. Picture books. Titles so thin and simple they could only have been for young children.

“What, pacifiers and books?” Liz asked.

“Oh, that’s what they were! My bad—I thought they were something else, bunched up like that in a bag. Sorry!” she said, flashing Liz an apologetic grin.

“Yeah, whatever. Get it yourself next time,” Liz said, shutting the lid and pulling out her phone again.

Keaton returned to her seat, mind whirling. That was more than enough for one kid, perhaps even a few. It was a supply drop. For children. In The Spire. Not incriminating in itself, but the clues were starting to add up, and Keaton listened when the evidence pointed the same way as her hunches.



Fidgeting with her hands in a conscious effort to avoid picking at her nails, Keaton waited, her eyes flicking between the steam rising from her coffee and the nurse in front of her. She’d already given her name, so it was a bit too late to bail, but maybe the nurse would say someone was already visiting and give her an excuse to leave before she committed. Well, more than she already did, because she still wasn’t sure what she was doing. What was she doing? Why was she even here? It felt right, but lots of things felt lots of ways, and—

“Room 302, Ms. Plasse. You have a good day,” the nurse said, looking up with a bright smile.

Keaton blinked, then nodded, grabbing her coffee. “You too,” she said, giving the nurse a tight smile before heading to the stairs. One floor, two floors, three floors of time to doubt later, she was in front of room 302 looking at Radvi through the window on the door, all bandaged up and plugged into a machine and looking like he was just asleep.

Knocking out of habit, she hesitated, then let herself into the room, the beeping machine the only sound beside the door as she closed it. She walked forwards, hovering at the foot of the bed feeling like an intruder. Against the wall beside her was a small table of flowers and cards, some of the petals more wilted than others. That seemed about right. Radvi had friends, colleagues. People like Eli who truly cared about his well-being. She, on the other hand, she was here because… it felt right.

She hesitated, then swapped her coffee for one of the vases of flowers, bringing it over to the bedside table. Setting it down beside the necklace there, she took a seat in the chair, staring at the necklace. A wedding ring and a bracelet. A wife and daughter.

Her eyes slid down, then up towards Radvi, whose face was so covered in bandages she could barely make out anything under them. The machine continued beeping, and the seconds ticked by until Keaton cleared her throat, feeling she should say something.

“Um, hey Radvi. I… I didn’t know you that well, but Eli likes you, and you seemed like you always meant well,” she said, her words coming out haltingly. She was talking to a comatose patient, and she was feeling awkward doing it. Way to go, Keaton. “I, um, I don’t really know why I’m here. I just figured… well, I was in the area, so I figured I’d drop by.”

She paused, letting the beeping fill the room again. What else could she say?

“Eli—Eli was pretty upset about… this all, and I’ve been checking up on her. Kind of. Well, I’ve been busier these few weeks since I picked up another job, but she seems to be back on her feet, so it’s mostly just texting now. Before, it was dropping by to make sure she was okay. Bringing her food and stuff, maybe watching a movie or two,” Keaton said. “I guess… I guess I should say, I hope you wake up. For Eli’s sake, if not yours.”

Silence sunk in again, the beeping steady in the background as Keaton stared blankly at Radvi. The gravity of his situation sucked away all her thoughts, only vaguely reminding her of her own mortality, but she could easily sit in the silence, even relax in it. She’d kept herself busy in the past few weeks, not giving herself a chance to sit and think, because every time she did, all she could think about was Homecoming—how helpless she’d felt, how useless she’d been. They were inane thoughts, she knew, but it wasn’t so much the thoughts as the feeling that stayed with her. Being out of control—Keaton hated it, hated not knowing, not being sure. She liked being sure that the ring and bracelet belonged to Radvi’s wife and daughter, that the flowers and cards were from coworkers and friends, that Radvi’s heartbeat was stable and strong. Being sure helped her relax, made her feel normal, like herself. And it was scary, not being herself. The one day she decided it’d be okay to let loose a little, Arianna showed up, and Radvi got put in a coma. None of it was her fault—she knew that. But she also knew that she didn’t do—hadn’t been able to do—anything to prevent any of it. Lynn could have died, she could have died, Radvi very nearly did die. It made her all wonder whether investigating The Promise was even worth it, with Arianna out there. Maybe working with the staff was a better option for now, even if they were experimenting on kids.

She shifted in her seat, looking back at the flowers on the table. In the vase was a humble collection of yellow daisies, resembling dandelions with how obnoxiously yellow they were. They looked happy, though, if flowers could look happy.

Settling into her seat, she pulled out her notebook and a pencil, flipping to the page after her last design sketch. Then, turning towards the flowers, she attempted to sketch one, focusing on the way the light and shadows curved along the petals. As she drew, she glanced back at Radvi, and, in an impulsive stroke of inspiration, outlined his bandages under the daisy she’d drawn, then drew another daisy when the balance seemed off before going back to outlining the bandages. That continued for a while, her inventing flowers out of nothing now, poking some leaves out of the bandages for good measure. Even though Radvi was turned towards her, there was very little skin she could see, which was why she could fit so many daisies, she figured, and if she added another—

A knock sent her flinching back, clutching her notebook to her chest. It’d been from the neighboring room, as she quickly realized, and she relaxed with a sigh, looking down at what she’d drawn. Flowers and bandages on a face. How contrived, how cliche, but… she liked it. It was comforting, seeing the flowers with the bandages, and Radvi’s sleeping face was peaceful.

She tore the page from her notebook, looking around for somewhere to put it. She wasn’t keeping this—no way. It was nice, but it was Radvi, and it wasn’t really something she could turn into Cara for her pseudo-project anyway. Right?

Pulling out her phone, she turned it on, holding the camera over her drawing. “Cara, is this good enough of a final project for you?”

“I suppose it’ll have to do,” Cara said, her tone lilting, and Keaton clenched her teeth for a second as she told herself that no, she didn’t care that the AI was dripping with ‘told you so’ smugness. She’d gotten the assignment off her plate, and that was enough for her.

“Do you need a scan or physical copy?”

“Nope, the project was for fun. Feel free to keep the piece to yourself.”

Rolling her eyes, Keaton pocketed her phone, cleaning up her stuff. Then, walking over to the table with the flowers and cards, she slid the paper under a bouquet so that only an empty corner was peeking out.

“I’ll, um, be leaving now. Get better, Radvi,” she said, looking back at Radvi. The beeping machine answered her, and she managed a smile, picking up her coffee. A half-open card, though, caught her eye, and she paused, glancing back at Radvi. This… this was probably unethical. And dumb. And probably useless. But maybe it’d help. Maybe.

Pulling out her notebook again, Keaton wrote down the names on open cards, figuring that tearing envelopes was further than she was willing to go. Then, this time quietly, she left the room, sparing one last glance at Radvi as she closed the door.



“Pat, I’m heading out!” Keaton called, waving at her shift manager, who seemed to be on the phone. His brows were furrowed, and when she called, he looked up, waving her over.

“Dial this number for me, won’t you? I swear I’m getting it right,” he said, pointing to a handwritten phone number on a post-it.

“That’s a seven, not a one, right?” Keaton asked, pointing to what she knew was a seven.

“I tried both already,” Pat admitted. “The number with one doesn’t even pick up.”

“Right,” Keaton said, frowning as she entered the number. Putting the phone on speaker, she listened as the phone rang, rang, then clicked. Static blared out, and Keaton flinched, slamming the phone down.

“God, what is going on? First we’re missing a package, then I can’t even reach the distributor,” Pat said, groaning and rubbing his temples.

“Missing a shipment?” Keaton echoed.

“Yeah, I was told there’d be six shipments today, but only five arrived,” Pat said, sighing. “Guess I’ll have to go talk to the boss. See you tomorrow, Keaton.”

“Yeah, see you,” Keaton said, frowning as she left. Her phone buzzed—Cara reminding her about the new arrivals. As if anyone could forget that. Judging by the time—and the fact that she’d skipped breakfast—she was due for lunch, so lunch it was. On the way to the cafeteria, she composed a text to Eli, sending it.

Hey, when are you headed to the loading bay?
To Eli

Then, figuring it wouldn’t hurt, she sent another one to Lynn.

You headed to the loading bay?
To Lynn

The girl had a penchant for keeping her phone turned off, given her distrust of Cara, so trying to reach her was always a bit of a struggle. Still, Keaton had done so over phone so far, and maybe she’d be able to get Lynn to get used to Cara sometime, if not trust her. After all, Caroline was a valuable ally, sarcasm, smugness, and all.

Ferris Talese

@Pezz570@HokumPocus@Jerkchicken@Fetzen@13org

DB and Karina made the jump down first, and Ferris quickly followed, taking a breath of the banana and vinegar scents he’d dabbed onto his mask. With the buzz of magic coursing through his body, he jumped, clutching and dropping from one floor’s ledge to the next. Without magic, the act would have started testing his strength towards the bottom; with it, he dropped easily, grasped readily, his movements fast and smooth. This wasn’t the first time he’d gone down stairs like this, but magic always made such actions easier.

At the bottom, he caught the end of the other two conversations, noting how Sil seemed to confound near everyone she spoke to. Despite knowing full well that she was a familiar and therefore an extension of Chres, Ferris was beginning to doubt whether she was anyone’s familiar. Surely Chres would be able to manage more control over his familiar than Octavio, whose familiar seemed to walk over him at times. But, then again, perhaps Sil’s individuality was too strong. Ferris doubted even he could curb her scatterbrained ways, not that he wanted to try.

Focusing on Karina when she spoke, Ferris listened, his eyes flicking between Týfurkh and Karina. Asking someone to fight without their magic was dangerous, but Týfurkh’s situation wasn’t exactly improving. On the other hand, the royal guard Karina mentioned sounded like an option. An unlikely one, perhaps, but an option nonetheless.

“I agree that we should fight, or at least attempt to extract Týfurkh. I doubt the Being recruited him as a sacrifice for our current situation,” Ferris said, his tone low as well as he looked to Karina. “Do the royal guard have any intention of helping us? If so, perhaps we can force their hand by bringing the fight to them. Start it here, with Týfurkh, and move it out the guard and tell. It’ll be hard to get to the door, with all the Sightless, but the fight’s already on the bottom floor.”

He paused, looking to Sil. “Sil, would you be able to test whether the Sightless can see you? If not, you could help us scout the best way out of the tower.”

TBD
Hello hello!

I’m Typical, but call me Typ. The numbers under my name tell you my exact stats with RPing (born and raised here on the Guild), and I’m here reaching out for a 1x1 or two.









If interested, PM me!

Please include a link or description of what you’re thinking of so I can get a sense of whether or not I’d want in. Bring all the detail—I’m pretty okay with reading (or skimming, cuz, ‘ya know). That interesting but out-there plot idea you’ve been sitting on? The weird powers or game mechanics you want to try out? Throw ‘em at me, ‘cuz I’m open to anything that catches my fancy.

As for whether I’m still looking, the answer is probably yes. Even if this thread’s over two months old and growing purple mold, I’ll still be open to whatever awesome ideas and enthusiastic people are willing to write with me. Unless, of course, I’ve redacted this message, but in that case you wouldn’t be reading this.

Cheers.

Essie Hietz

Brittanium City || Day 1: Morning

Arriving at the park, Essie was pleased to find that many trainers had the same idea as her. Trainers engaged in battle speckled the sprawling park, and Essie didn’t make it five steps in before someone approached her and her Pokemon.

“Human trainer, I challenge you!” a boy in a green dinosaur outfit said, raising his gloved arms up and baring the costume’s dull claws dramatically.

“Accepted! And sweet costume! But, um, what are you supposed to be, exactly?” Essie asked. The costume reminded her of a Larvitar, but the outfit was too green and didn’t have any of the telltale red and black.

“I am insulted by your disrespectfulness! I am obviously a Larvitar!” the boy said, huffing. “Prepare to suffer the consequences of your actions! You face Larvitar Frank!

Essie laughed and, realizing that she’d just angered the boy more, cleared her throat, backing up. “Right, um, the battle. Here is fine, right?”


The trip to the Pokemon Center was a short one, which Essie figured was about right given that they were smack-dab in the middle of town. Why build the Pokemon Center any further from where all the trainers were sure to gather? So, as soon as she got Todd healed and out of his ball, she was back at the park, this time with the mind to avoid anyone who looked like they had an over-the-top get-up. While she didn’t mind Frank’s enthusiasm, his whole schtick got kinda old towards the end, and Essie still wasn’t sure if his comments had been purely part of his act. If they were, he was a pretty amazing actor, the odds of which didn’t make Essie feel any better.

“Hey, you looking for a battle?” Essie asked a girl who was standing around talking to her Aipom.

She looked up, glancing at the Pokemon at Essie’s side, and smiled. “Sure! Kylie, pleased to meet’cha,” she said, holding out a hand.

“Essie,” Essie said, grinning as she shook Kylie’s hand. Finally, a normal—

“Prepare to lose,” Kylie said, grabbing onto Essie’s hand as she tried to withdraw it. Her smile widened, and Essie recoiled, tugging on her hand desperately until she managed to snap out of Kylie’s grip.

“W-wha—”

“Good luck!” Kylie said, giggling as she skipped a short distance away. Essie stared at her until her Aipom hopped onto the field, the movement shaking her out of her stupor.

“Yeah, um, Mica? You ready?” she asked, looking to her Wingull. Mica squawked happily, taking off with a strong beat of her wings.



“Are there no normal people around here?” she asked Todd when they were out of earshot. Todd gave a sympathetic ‘Tor,’ and she sighed. “Well, I hope there are more normal trainers on the road. Maybe it’s just the city—it attracts crazy.”


Brittanium City || Day 1: Late Morning

A Pokemon Center trip later, Mica was again squawking happily on her shoulder, and Todd spruced up at her side. Essie, however, was focused on the map on her Pokedex, a frown on her face. “Huh, Arsenic Island is the first gym, right? But it looks closer to Brass Town than to Brittanium City. Why not just head to Brass Town first, then?”

She looked between her Pokemon, both whom were in no position to give her a response. Mica, though, gave her a happy squawk anyway, prompting a laugh from her.

“Thanks, Mica. Alright, it’s settled then. To Route 2 we go!” she said, pointing to the way out of town. “Let’s see if what kinds of cool wilds are around this place. Hopefully we see some rare Pokemon we don’t see back home!” she said, grinning. “Maybe we’ll even find someone to join the team! What do you think about a new teammate, Todd, Mica?”

Todd gave a slow ‘Tor,’ which wasn’t exactly a no, while Mica gave her usual happy squawk.

“I hear you, Todd, but I’m just saying, what if we find the one? Or maybe, if we’re lucky, the two?” Essie asked, at her Torkoal. Todd puffed some smoke, repeating his answer, and Essie sighed. “Yeah, you’re right Todd. But, I mean, still, what if?”

As Essie continued her discussion with Todd, Mica squawked happily on her shoulder, settling into a pitchy song that was more improvisation that what was necessarily needed. Thankfully, the city’s outer edges had fewer people, but Essie still had to ask her to tone it down a few times. As soon as they were out of the town boundaries, though, Essie ended her discussion with Todd in favor of joining Mica in her song. It was nonsensical, but it was fun, and Todd dealt with it by walking to what was probably the beat, much to both Essie and Mica’s delight





I tend towards drawn pictures in general, though usually not anime ones, so if those are "not weeb-y," that's news to me.
Essie Hietz

Brittanium City || Day 1: Morning

“Wow. I mean, wow, I saw Champion Rylen live. Like in-person, onstage,” Essie said, still a little stunned as she left the stadium. Walking along at her side was Todd, who was pretty used to her ramblings by now, and on her shoulder, Mica squawked.

“Right, Mica? Like, wow. He’s so cool! The champion of the Chromis League… If I get to fight him… I can’t even imagine it,” she said, sighing. Todd uttered a slow word of disagreement, prompting a laugh from her. “Yeah, Todd, you’re right.”

Looking at the trainers disbanding around her, she grinned again. “Man, there’re so many cool people here, and all of them are trainers!” Would she be able to befriend any of them? Would they see her as nice enough, cool enough to be a friend?

“Tooor,” Todd said again.

“Right, right. Where we’re going, um, what were the options again? Arsenic Island’s the gym, and we have, um, one week to get there, right?” she asked. Todd nodded, Mica squawking a note that may or may not have been agreement, and Essie nodded. “Alright then, well, we have some time? No need to head to the island right now, so let’s take a look around the city! This place is so fancy—is this what all cities are like? I mean, Violet City’s pretty big, but not this big, right?”

“Tooor,” Todd repeated yet again.

“Okay, you’re right, let’s go,” Essie said, making for the main street. “Wasn’t there a park or something in town? Maybe that’ll be a good first stop before we hit the road. We can even get a battle or two in while we’re around a Center. What do you say, Mica? Todd?”

Mica squawked, fluffing her feathers, and Todd uttered a slow word of assent.

“Sweet, race you there, Todd!” Essie said, grinning as she broke out into a run. In reponse, Todd puffed some smoke, withdrawing back into his shell and spinning off after her. Luckily for Essie, the main street was pretty big, though she soon stopped running when strangers started to stare.

“Whoops,” she said, flashing anyone who’d turned to stare an apologetic smile. Cities—she couldn’t wait to get out.




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