As he stepped off the train, Riley's boots met sand. He was home.
[break][break]But Pyrite Town wasn't as he remembered it—it was though he had stepped directly into the past, complete with a monochrome filter. The modern, worn-down architecture he was so familiar with had been replaced with unfamiliar saloons and bars, ones ripped straight out of those corny Unovan Movies. Furthermore... he couldn't see anyone. At all. You couldn't walk ten paces in Pyrite Town without bumping into some kind of shady character, but the town was completely empty... and utterly silent.
[break][break]As Riley walked forward, he noted a click of spurs in time with his footsteps. He looked down—his combat boots had been replaced with that of a traditional cowboy. In fact, his entire outfit was foreign to him: the aforementioned cowboy boots, in addition to a long black poncho and a black cowboy hat. At his side, a revolver was holstered, hanging heavy against his leg. His trigger finger itched. He kept walking.
[break][break]As he reached the town square, the silence was broken by the sound of boots clicking on wood, discordant with his own.
[break][break][break]"Well, now," a voice called out. It was intensely, disgustingly familiar. "Look who came crawlin' back."
[break][break]Riley looked up. A few dozen paces away, a man stood in front of a saloon, tall and imposing. He was well-muscled, with shaggy brown hair and dark brown eyes. Dark brown eyes which matched his own. His attire was similar to Riley's, but the star of a sheriff gleamed bright on his chest—crooked. The metaphor was a little on the nose, Riley decided. The bastard's smile was crooked as he looked Riley up and down.
[break][break]"So... what?" he asked, snarling. "Not too good for us now, boy? Realize that you ain't better than the rest of us? Better than me?"
[break][break]Riley shook his head. "I'm not having this argument again." His cheek stung with the memory of how that went last time.
[break][break]"You were born in this shitheap, and you'll die in this shitheap. You're trash, Riles, same as the rest of us. At least we don't pretend to be something different."
[break][break]"Don't call me that."
[break][break]Both of them were silent for a moment, staring each other down. The wind rustled. Riley's mouth went dry. He knew how this ended. His hand clenched into a fist, as his eyes broke from the bastard's for a moment, watching as his opponent's hand drifted down to hover over his own revolver. Riley's finger twitched again, as he made eye contact again. In the distance, a mandibuzz let out a harrowing cry, echoing across the deserts of Orre.
[break][break]The other man sneered.
[break][break]BANG!
[break][break]Riley wasn't sure which of them shot first. Perhaps they'd fired simultaneously. Riley had drawn, faster than lightning, then shifted to the left as a bullet flew past him. As the dust settled, Riley caught sight of his opponent on the ground, crumpled into a heap. His shoulder was red with blood—the colour standing stark against the world's monochrome—but his chest rose up and down. He still breathed.
[break][break]He was alive.
[break][break]Riley approached his adversary, spurs clicking. The man glared up at him, brown eyes filled with rage. And then he started to laugh. A cruel, harsh laugh that cut deep in a way that only a parent could.
[break][break]"You call that a shot?" he asked, wheezing. "You didn't even kill me."
[break][break]"I wasn't trying to." Riley's eye twitched, and he resisted the urge to blow his father's brains out.
[break][break]"You're getting soft, boy." The man let out another wheezing chuckle. He stopped suddenly, glaring back up at Riley with the fury of the sun itself. "What a joke. You act like you're so much better than me, boy, but I've seen that rage inside of you. I know it intimately—it's my gift to you. It's your birthright." He scoffed, leaning back and shaking his head. "For now, you'll bury it down and pretend to be better than me. But if you ignore it forever, it'll consume you. I promise."
[break][break]"Thanks for the tip," Riley deadpanned, looking away, eyes burning. His trigger finger twitched—he took a long, slow breath. Then he stepped over his father and continued walking. "See you never, asswipe."
[break][break]"If you weren't such a fucking pussy, you'd take the shot!" The man called after him, snarling. That tone. Always that tone. His attempt to scare, to manipulate, to threaten. In the end, he was just a pathetic little man bleeding in the dust.
[break][break]Riley paused, only for a moment. Then he kept walking.
[break][break]He didn't look back.

"Is that our cue, Maddox?"
[break][break]"Nope. Different mark. They'll be here."
[break][break]A cool desert breeze washed over Riley, as he crouched down behind a set of rocks. He nestled deeper into his poncho. Above him, drips of moonlight peeked in through the clouds, casting slivers of light onto the barren wasteland that was Orre. In the distance, Pyrite Town was barely visible—and there was nothing else in sight, beyond the open road.
[break][break]Riley was younger in this dream than the last, no older than sixteen. He was roughly the same height as his adult self, but he had not yet filled out with muscles or scars. His clothes were similar to those he wore previously, with the cowboy boots and hat, but this time, he wore a bandana over his face, obscuring his features. His vision remained in black-and-white.
[break][break]A set of rapidash road past, each carrying a rider, though their faces were obscured in shadow. If they saw the gang of teenagers huddled on either side of the road, they did not indicate it. Riley let out a long, slow breath. Where was the mark? He was the one who'd tipped off the gang, this time round. If no one showed, then... He could feel the eyes of the other three burning into him, each holding the same down.
[break][break]The sound of wheels echoed through the night.
[break][break]Riley peeked his head up. A merchant cart was trotting in their direction, pulled by a mighty mudsdale. The cart's cover was painted a striped pattern, alternating blue and yellow. "That's them," he replied, breathless. Energy surged through the others, though they immediately quieted down. And then they waited.
[break][break]The plan was executed flawlessly. Two of them stepped out front, spooking the mudsdale into stopping. Meanwhile, Riley entered the back of the cart alongside Beck, their gang's leader. It was their job to intimidate the merchants into giving up their valuables, and leave before the sheriff caught wind. But the plan hit a snag.
[break][break]Inside, they did not find the cash Riley had heard about. Instead, they found an elderly man, cowering alongside a pair of eevees. One was slightly larger than the other, glaring daggers at Riley and Beck, while the other was a tad smaller, huddled in fear beside his companion.
[break][break]"Please," the elderly man begged. "Just let us go. If you leave us be, I will get the sheriff to look the other way... we're old friends, after all...
[break][break]"Shut it," Beck growled.
[break][break]Beck's eyes met Riley's, like dark pits in the light of the moon. Riley could see a thousand thoughts whirling through the man's head. After years of running together, Riley still had no way to predict what Beck was going to do. But nothing could have prepared him for what came next.
[break][break]Beck pulled out his revolver, and shot the man right in the head.
[break][break]"Why did you do that?" Riley asked, his voice rigid. He stared at the dead man, unable to process what just happened. Around him, the pokémon had begun to panic, letting out cries of fear and anger. "We don't kill."
[break][break]"You don't kill." Beck replied, his face grim. "Do you know how valuable a pokémon is in Orre? Especially an eevee, of all things. If we're gonna sell these to the black market, there needs to be no witnesses.
[break][break]Somehow, it wasn't Beck's actual actions that solidified Riley's resolve. It was his tone. That callous, unbothered tone was enough to fully destroy Riley's rose-tinted glasses. And he knew one thing: he couldn't participate in this shit anymore, and he wouldn't let it happen, either.
[break][break]Without thinking, he pulled out his own gun and blew a hole in Beck's foot. When his leader cried out in pain, Riley leapt for him and slammed his head against the side of the cart, knocking him out cold.
[break][break]Their two other thugs rounded the side of the cart, obviously worried about the gunshots. They were more loyal to Beck than they were to him. So Riley got the jump on them. Drawing his second revolver, he pointed a gun at each of their heads, and they froze in their tracks.
[break][break]"Scram," Riley growled. "Unless you want to end up like him." With that, he gestured to Beck, now fully passed out. With only a look at their boss, and then at each other, the thugs took off into the night. If there was one nice thing about Orre, it was that everyone prioritized their own survival above all.
[break][break]With that, Riley turned back to the eevees, who stared at him with a mix of uncertainty and confusion. The largest eevee took a step closer towards him, as though questioning his motives. As he looked at them, a wave of nausea washed over him. How had he come so close to subjecting them to such a horrible life? He... he wanted to be better than that.
[break][break]"Don't worry," he said quietly. "I'll take care of you guys. I promise."

Riley walked. And walked. And walked some more.
[break][break]He wasn't entirely sure how long he'd been walking. He'd left Pyrite Town, and the bastard, in the dust behind him. Gradually, the click of his boots on the dusty road had become a monotonous melody, fading gently to the back of his mind. No matter how long he walked, the sun hung high in the sky, with only his hat serving to protect his face from its scorching rays.
[break][break]Then he saw it. An old, worn-down diner, just a small ways ahead of him. There wasn't a soul around, yet Riley felt himself drawn to it like moth to flame. He walked up the wooden, creaky steps, and pushed through the door.
[break][break]And found himself somewhere else entirely. It was as though he had leapt through time. Colour returned to the world. He had left the era of Orre's prospecting days and found himself in a more modern era, albeit one closer to the time of his father's youth than his own. His hat and poncho were gone, replaced with a letter jacket and his combat boots.
[break][break]The diner was ripped straight out of the 50s, awash in a golden glow. Outside, it was pitch-black, not a glimpse of moonlight to be found. There was an old folks song playing from a jukebox, its melody haunting and quiet. Rain pounded heavy on the roof, occasionally dying away a little bit before returning in full force.
[break][break]There was only one other person in the diner: a waitress, sitting on a small stool near the front. As Riley took a step towards her, she looked up, and Riley started backwards. Her eyes were covered in black scratches, as though someone had taken a pencil and scribbled all over her face. She stared at him for a moment, before nodding to an empty booth and looking back down. He followed her direction.
[break][break]As Riley slid into the booth, people began to filter into the diner after him. All with that same, scratchy filter over their eyes. They were a wide variety of ages. Some old, some young. Some pretty, some not. None of them looked at him. In fact, a lot of them seemed to be outright ignoring him. He could hear snippets of conversations, punchlines of jokes. It was like he was a ghost, watching the lives of others play out around him.
[break][break]"Can I sit here?"
[break][break]Riley looked up to see a young man standing at the end of his table, tall and handsome. He didn't look like anyone Riley knew specifically, but he felt... familiar. His face was scratched out, just like the rest of them, but he offered Riley a welcoming smile. Honestly, Riley was mostly just relieved that anyone could see him at all. When he opened his mouth to respond, he found that no words would come. So he just nodded.
[break][break]The young man slid into the booth opposite him, slicking back his hair. "So," the man said. "I've got this party tonight. Do you want to come?" The young man looked away, his cheeks flushing a bit. "If you did, we could... get to know each other better." As he spoke, the young man extended a hand across the table, his palm faced upwards in invitation.
[break][break]Riley wanted to say yes. He didn't know why, only that he desperately wanted to say yes. But again, no words left him when he opened his mouth to speak. The other man's smile wavered. Desperately, Riley reached a hand out to grab onto him. To accept in any way he could. But his hand passed right through.
[break][break]The other man was frowning. "You can just say no, y'know," he said, irritated. "You don't have to ignore me." With a huff, the man stood from the booth, and stepped away. Riley's eyes trailed after him, his stomach turning. With all of his heart, he wanted to follow. To explain. But he couldn't.
[break][break]One by one, Riley watched as everyone left the diner again. Some in pairs, some in groups—but everyone had someone. Except him. In the end, Riley was left alone in that booth, watching the rain pour down the windows and listening to that quiet, haunting song play on loop.

When Riley opened his eyes, he woke to darkness and ruin.
[break][break]He was sitting in the same diner as last time, but things were... different. Wrong. It looked as though a hurricane had torn through the place: furniture was tossed in every direction, the signs and light fixtures had been torn down and destroyed, and the entire place smelled of death and decay. The scene was illuminated exclusively by the flickering of red fluorescent lights, casting an eerie, colourful glow over the destruction. In the distance, he could hear the creak of the jukebox, playing the remnants of song, almost entirely consumed by static and distortion.
[break][break]Sharp pain. When Riley went to take a breath, pain radiated out from his entire body. When he looked down, he saw that, somehow, thorny briars had grown on top of him, wrapping around his chest and arms. He reached down, attempting to pull the briars off, only to recoil in pain as the sharp thorns punctured his palm. Was this... a nightmare? He looked up, then all around, desperation puddling in his lungs.
[break][break]And then he saw it. The nightmare itself.
[break][break]Sitting across from him in the booth was... what could only be described as monster born of dark flames. Vaguely humanoid, the spectre was formed entirely out of... shadow? It flickered and folded much like a fire would, but staring into it was like gazing into the darkest of nights. In fact, the only way Riley could actually see the creature was when the light illuminated the scene... only for the darkness to draw in the light around it, and consume it.
[break][break]Yep. Definitely a nightmare.
[break][break]"What... are you?" Riley croaked. He could speak this time, apparently.
[break][break]Your birthright. Somehow, he knew the answer, even without the shadow speaking.
[break][break]The spectre rose from its seat, causing an intense heat to wash over Riley as it drew closer. With the sound of sizzling ringing in his ears, he looked down to see the briars, bubbling to a crisp and releasing their grip on him. The shadow stepped away from the table, moving towards the diner's emergency exit. Riley watched as it blew the door open, ripping it right off its hinges, all with a single touch of its palm. Then it disappeared.
[break][break]Grimacing, he reached down and grabbed the melted briars, gingerly wiggling his way out of them. After the initial flash of pain, it actually wasn't much trouble—perhaps because his mind was elsewhere. His heart was beating a hundred miles per minute, with enough adrenaline to make him sick to his stomach.
[break][break]Once he'd peeled himself out of the briars, Riley climbed his way out of the booth, then over the debris towards the diner's emergency exit. He wasn't sure why he was following that... thing. Dread hung in his heart like a stone. Something awful was going to happen if he didn't catch it.
[break][break]As Riley stepped through the doorframe, he found himself... elsewhere. Again.
[break][break]It was still the middle of the night, though the moon hung high in the sky, illuminating the scene in front of him. He stood on a rooftop, overlooking Slateport City's lower district. From this vantage point, he could see the empty stalls of the night market. Something was wrong. No matter where he looked... the city was empty. Not a single building had its lights on, nor was there a single person wandering the streets. It was as though everyone had just... disappeared.
[break][break]We are alone.
[break][break]Riley turned to his left. The shadow was there, sitting on the edge of the building. Its body flickered with the wind, and Riley could feel the heat radiating from it. As it spoke, it turned its entire "head" to look at him, its eyeless face unreadable. What... was Riley supposed to do here? He hadn't exactly expected to get this far. Was he supposed to attack the nightmare, to try and destroy it? Run away and hope it doesn't follow? For a long, empty moment, Riley stared at the shadow, stuck in between fight or flight.
[break][break]He decided, in the end, to do neither.
[break][break]Moving towards the edge, Riley took a seat alongside the shadow, though he kept a good three feet between them. The shadow tilted its head as he did so, but didn't make any other moves, nor did it seem entirely surprised by the decision.
[break][break]"So. It's you and me then." A ghost of his very own.
[break][break]We are alone, It repeated. No one in the world. No one who cares.
[break][break]"No. I guess there isn't."
[break][break]It hurts. Every waking moment is like being punctured, over and over again. The ghost's voiceless speech was dispassionate and emotionless. But Riley knew himself well enough to know a facade when he saw it. But no one can sees the blood as it drips onto the coals. No one can hear our cries for help.
[break][break]"I know," Riley replied, his voice surprisingly gentle.
[break][break]All we have is each other, it said. How could you refuse me?
[break][break]Riley looked out into the empty streets of Slateport, silent for a while. Wind brushed up against him, and he tucked into his coat. His coat, finally—he'd changed back into his normal attire after stepping out from the emergency door. It was reassuring, somehow.
[break][break]"I want to be someone worth loving," he replied back, soft. "I wouldn't like myself very much if I tapped into you. My anger. My resentment. My birthright." He paused. An uncharacteristic smile crossed onto his face, as he thought of Umbreon and Espeon. "I want to help people. I want to protect people. I always have. And I can't do that with you."
[break][break]As he turned back to look at his ghost, his eyes widened: The shadowy silhouette that had been sitting beside him was gone. In its place sat a flickering black ball of fire, small enough to hold in his hands. Reaching over, Riley gently grasped the flame in two hands—letting out a small wince as flames licked his arm—and pulled it to sit in his lap. Heat washed over him, but it wasn't painful in the same way as it once had been. Like this, it wasn't as terrifying.
[break][break]It was just a part of him, like anything else. He could manage that.

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This was so fucking weird. No, that wasn't true, actually. This had passed weird, like, five stops ago. It was weird when everyone had seen that strange riddle. Waking up in some kind of... dream video game thing was... well, fucking certifiable. But at this point, after being in Hoenn for long enough, Riley'd learned to stop questioning things.[break][break]

It wasn't like he had the luxury to do so anyway. With a grimace, his hand clutched tighter to the dream ball in his palm. Option one: this was another strange, elaborate dream, and he'd wake up without any of it mattering much. Option two: somehow, this was all real, and Rook was out there in the forest, being tormented by his... shadow pokémon instincts, or whatever.[break][break]

Riley wasn't willing to risk option two.[break][break]

Ever since Rook had turned "shadow", there had been a weight lodged in his chest, threatening to drag him down and drown him in the dirt. There was this part of him that knew, somehow, that it was his fault. Sure, the umbreon was powerful now, almost absurdly so... but it was wrong. He couldn't even be in the same room as Asta anymore without getting possessive and weird. Over the past few weeks, Riley'd been forced to watch his two best friends go through the ugliest pokémon break-up in history. It had, to put it bluntly, sucked fucking dick.[break][break]

Helping Rook was the only fair option.[break][break]

As Riley left the castle, he took off into the woods, ignoring the cries of the other shadow pokémon around him and the strange distortions in the environment. If this was a dream, then dream logic was likely in play. Trying to find concrete answers for anything here was a fool's errand. If Riley knew Rook, the umbreon would have gone to the darkest area possible, so that's where he was headed.. His pace grew faster as the foliage above him grew more dense, casting shadows on the forest path.[break][break]

He emerged into a shadowed clearing. In the centre of the clearing, there was several sharp rocks, hanging like swords suspended in mid-air. Every few seconds, one of them would glitch and fizzle out of existence, before reappearing moments later. Was this... what he was looking for?[break][break]

As Riley stepped further into the clearing, he was suddenly buffeted by a forceful wave of sand, kicked up seemingly out of nowhere. Beneath him, the ground flickered between the overgrown dirt path of the forest, and a barren path of sand and stone. What was... happening? It was like two places were superimposed upon the same physical location, and reality couldn't decide which was correct.[break][break]

Riley took a step forward, narrowly avoiding a downwards claw attack, aimed straight for his head.

He felt the force of the attack before anything else. Heart spiking, he dived forward, as his assailant let out an screeching roar. Rolling in the dirt and sand, Riley scrambled away from his attacker, turning around to face it just as more sand whipped up into his face. His stomach dropped. Standing there, like a spectre lurking in the sandstorm, was a massive tyranitar, having emerged from what looked like a rift in space.[break][break]

Motherfucker.[break][break]

"H-hey, buddy," said Riley, scrambling in the grass and sand. "Looking for Sierra?" In response, he received only a roar, followed by a glowing light emerging from the tyranitar's jaw. Thankfully, Riley was fairly good at thinking on his feet, as he was just narrowly able to roll out of the way in time to avoid the HYPER BEAM aimed in his direction. The powerful attack absolutely destroyed several of the trees behind him, seemingly ripping a hole in the fabric of space altogether.[break][break]

This was his chance. Not hesitating, Riley took off in the opposite direction. He figured that he had time to spare, while the tyranitar recharged from its attack. Unfortunately, he wasn't anticipating the EARTHQUAKE. Fun fact about earthquakes: not really something you can dodge, short of the ability to fly.[break][break]

Before he could blink, Riley was knocked off his feet as the ground was torn up beneath him, flying back-first into a nearby tree. He let out a winded gasp, as pain radiated down his spine. Heavy footsteps grew closer as Riley struggled to his knees, but it was too late. The tyranitar grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him up, its claw radiating dark energy. Using SHADOW BLITZ, Tyranitar slamed him into the tree, before opening its mouth and beginning to charge HYPER BEAM again, right in his face. But before it could, it let out a roar of pain, dropping him like a hot coal.[break][break]

[break]

Riley fell to the ground, shivering and completely winded. He tried to ignore the searing pain racing through his body. The tyranitar stepped away from him, almost hissing in pain. Riley looked up, managing a glare even through the nausea surging up from him. Likely deciding that he just wasn't worth it, the tyranitar staggered away from him, disappearing back into the distortion rift.[break][break]

Fuck.[break][break]

For a long while after that, Riley's vision was swimming, almost having whited out in pain. Despite taking long, slow breaths, he felt completely devoid of air, as though there was some leak inside him that just kept draining it. He stayed there, nearly curled up in the fetal position, for what felt like forever. Thankfully, his insides eventually settled, and his vision cleared.[break][break]

Shakily, he got to his feet, struggling to keep balance for a moment. His body screamed in protest, still aching with pain. But he grit his teeth, and staggered onwards, continuing deeper into the darker parts of the forest. "Good luck, Sierra," Riley muttered, spitting out some blood.[break][break]

That tyranitar was a fucking nightmare.

birth by sleep - scenario one, part I

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Battered and bruised, but somehow still kicking, Riley continued deeper into the forest, as the woods grew darker and darker around him.[break][break]

His encounter with Sierra's tyranitar had shaken him, but he was still laser-focused on finding his friend and bringing him home. And in his heart, he knew he was headed in the right direction. It was as though there was a string connecting him to his umbreon, pulling him closer and closer with each step.[break][break]

And then he arrived at the cave.[break][break]

A small, sloped hill descended down into a dark, eerie cavern. In the center of the cavern sat a familiar umbreon, his pale rings glowing dimly in the dark. A pair of red eyes stared daggers at Riley as he slid down towards him. A fanged mouth curled into a snarl as he took a step towards him.[break][break]

"Rook," Riley said, his voice choking a bit. "It's me."[break][break]

Rook stared at him with unflinching eyes, like shrapnel tearing through him. Even as a "shadow", Rook had been unflinchingly protective of both Riley and Asta, even to the point of being possessive. But now... it was like he didn't even recognize him. Maybe he didn't, honestly. They'd been together for so long, and now... now it was like there was nothing between them.[break][break]

Riley opened his mouth to speak. Shadow energy coiled around Rook. Riley dodged out of the way just as Rook tore past him, shadows rippling around him. The umbreon slammed into the wall, sending cracks up through the stone. After taking a moment to recover, he turned around, snarling, before rushing towards Riley again.[break][break]

His fault. This was his fault. A memory of that dream, where Riley had faced his own shadow, flashed in his head. The day after, Rook had started showing signs of his... condition. In that dream, he'd rejected his inherent anger and resentment towards others... and now, it was like they'd all been pushed right onto his umbreon. Like looking into a mirror.[break][break]

Riley stopped, turning back around to face his shadow pokémon head-on. Rook stopped, seemingly thrown by the sudden shift. Riley stared him down, fists clenched. They wanted the same thing—to protect people, especially the people they loved. "Come with me, Rook." Riley said, his voice cracking. "Please. I need you... Asta needs you in his life. We can't do this without you."[break][break]

The mention of his partner seemed to snap the umbreon back to attention. He glared at Riley, his eyes narrowed. And then they softened, and he bowed his head. An acceptance, of sorts. This power gave Rook greater strength. A greater ability to protect people, both he and Riley knew that. But the cost was too great.[break][break]

Riley threw the dream ball. And when the choice came, he didn't hesitate.[break][break]

birth by sleep - scenario one, part II

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"Lucky we found you, Sierra."[break][break]

Truthfully, Riley still didn't fully understand what was going on. Something about... dungeons and kingdoms? This felt like some kind of corny, stupid LARP based off a dumb JRPG. Or rather, it would, if his ribs didn't still ache with the pain of Tyranitar's wrath. No, this was all too real, dream or not.[break][break]

Regardless, Riley was just grateful that Rook seemed to have returned back to normal. Though he had no way to confirm whether this would translate into the real world, it felt right. More than that, it seemed as though he and Rook understood each other even better than before—they were both eager to protect the people they cared about, even if it destroyed them. But they were stronger when they worked together to do it.[break][break]

"Oh, yeah, totally!" Sierra said, twirling her hair.[break][break]

Which was... odd.[break][break]

He'd run into the reporter shortly after leaving the cave where he'd found Rook. She'd claimed to have finally found her tyranitar and recaptured it, though when he asked whether she'd chosen to purify it or not, she'd merely given him a confused, blank stare. He didn't quite get it, but it wasn't worth pursuing at that moment.[break][break]

Together, they'd received their BATTLE CARDS.[break][break]

[break]

Upon seeing his title, Riley couldn't help but grimace, his lip raising in a minor snarl. What the hell did it mean by brooding? He wasn't brooding, he was just... contemplative. Fuck this stupid dream world and fuck that stupid snubbull. Sighing, he raised a hand to his forehead.[break][break]

Whatever. It wasn't worth it.[break][break]

"I guess it's best if we do this together, hey?" Riley asked, looking to Sierra.[break][break]

"Yeah!" She twirled her hair again. "Let's get that scoop!"[break][break]

"...What?" Now he was just really, really confused. "Did you hit your head?"[break][break]

"I'm fine!" She replied, a little too quickly. "Let's head to that dungeon!"[break][break]

Riley looked to his umbreon, who seemed equally as bemused by Sierra's antics, an obvious frown etched into his snout. She'd always been weird, but this was... unsettling. Maybe this was just her way of coping with the whole situation? He supposed he'd done worse, so he wasn't in a position to judge. Though he was probably still going to.[break][break]

Regardless, Riley somehow doubted that Sierra would be much use in this state. Furthermore, he doubted he would be much use either, considering this stupid dream seemed to be telling him that his only value was in getting his ass kicked or blowing himself up. But they needed to dive deeper if they wanted to get to the bottom of this dream world.[break][break]

"Looks like it's up to you, Rook," Riley said, beginning to move in the direction of the dungeon. The umbreon followed him, letting out a small, exhausted huff through his nose. This was going to be a long adventure.

birth by sleep - scenario two, part I