PRISMATIC PENITENTIARY

Imprisoned Investigator--Premiere Prisoner

Elaine almost found herself breathing a sigh of relief the moment that the vote for their prisoner's dilemma was announced. The fact that a majority had chosen trust on both wards was a good sign. No matter what the reason was, the 'dummies' had chosen quite the logical option.

After all, there was no real advantage to forsaking the other ward. Not from the options presented at least.

Moreover, the terms that their punishments would be more "managable and survivable" was enough to make Elaine shudder at the possibility of what the other punishment that would have been planned for them was.

But that all seemed to wash away as the entire ward was corralled onto a platform and further into the depths of the facility. The moment the entire group had gotten close enough, they had been thrown into the new dark space. Elaine was no exception to that. Much like the others, the green brute tossed her in as well, though she was lucky enough that she stuck the landing properly enough that she shielded anything internal. She may not have landed on her feet, but there was hardly any lasting damage and barely more than a couple scrapes.

So, as the punishment commenced, she did exactly as instructed. True to her own nature, she had ended up finding one of the mangled corpses first.

Elaine sighed. As much as she hated that she was helping to commit the crime of disposing of a body and toxins, there was not much else she could really do in this state.

"I'm sorry."

She had seen how one of the corpses had come to be, through a display of absolute brutality. But the other corpses, she had never seen before. In all likelihood, other dissenters who had been made an example of.

She could not linger around the corpse forever.

She would focus on picking up the forgotten pieces of mochi while picking up pieces from the ground while continuing to examine what remained of the bodies. Observe for any strangeness. Any information. Perhaps she could fashion the ribs or bones of one of the corpses into a weapon.

While they were out of the view of the light, she needed to come up with some advantage while enduring the punishment.

However, it was all interrupted. She had heard the sounds, but she had been too tunnel-visioned. Though it was hard to observe the world around her like this, it was her fault for not paying enough attention to her suroundings.

It was a simple, yet savage blow to her chest and stomach. She had been discovered by whatever it was that had been let loose to run amok her. This had been different from when she was tackled in the wards. It had thrown all of its weight into her, tossing her back a few feet.

Elaine scrambled back to her feet. But she had been barely back to her knees when a vines lashed out at her. She sidestepped to barely avoid it, but her chest and her gut screamed from the pain. She felt like she could cough up blood at any second.

Not to mention, dodging it had only angered it. Could she fight back at this point?

She heard a sound coming from behind her and reflexively turned back just enough to throw a fist behind herself. However, her fist passed by something else. Its foot swung directly into her chest before her fist could even make contact.

Flying back, she landed in a net of vines that promptly wrapped itself around her before flinging her back down to the ground.

Was this what it felt like to be dying? She could feel her consciousness flitting in and out as she lay on the ground. It was like everything kept flashing to black.

"N...no."

She rolled onto her stomach and slammed her hands onto the ground.

Don't mock me!

She hacked and coughed, feeling the pain in her chest and her belly worsening with every disturbance of her diaphragm. A hot ache spread throughout her entire body.

But she pressed down. Her arms straightened. Her torso straightened. Her legs straightened. Eventually, she had come to realize it.

Though she felt nothing short of pure agony.

Though she felt like she could tumble back to the ground at any second.

She had stood.

And it wasn't just that. The fact that she could take her chance and stand back up meant one thing. The assailant had clearly been frenzied enough to attack her in rapid succession, not giving her even a moment to rest. The fact that it wasn't attacking her meant it got tired of her and left for its next victim.

She was free again. For now.

She was aching. She felt weak. She felt like she could cough up blood into her mask at any moment.

But she couldn't dawdle here. She had to work through this. Otherwise, there was no telling what else could happen to her or the others. For the time being, she could only hope that her cellmate and her friends had been able to avoid this ghastly fate.

"I need to find something."

She had begun to examine the corpses again as she continued to work on the 'punishment' meted out to them.

She was a weakling. But there was a snowball's chance in hell she would let that stop her here. She had not given up on anything. Not yet. She would find something. She had to.

---

TL;DR:

• Weakling Ward
• Elaine examines the corpses as she cleans up mochi. She gets in close to at least move them somewhat to the disposal.
• She gets thrashed by Ogerpon though she attempts to and fails to get one good punch in
• She stands back up, battered and dizzy and feeling like she's by death's door.
• She continues her work and continues to examine the body for abnormalities/clues or parts she can scavenge
• She worries for her cellmate, Violet, and Kyrenai's safety though she has no clue where they are

Tags:ever blackwell , Violet Fairbanks , Kyrenai Black
GWDGspzC

Shock finally began embedding itself into the deep recesses of Michael's mind and body. The image and sound of Eimyrja's Pokeball being crushed looped over and over in his head. His heart, mind, and soul remained on the verge of giving up. Salty tears would have drowned the mask if the Cadet were given the chance to cry and mourn for the loss of his partner.

Memories of the Charmander pushed Michael forward. His vow to escape and find justice against those responsible coaxed the embers of determination and hope. Mourning turned to motivation. He lost his first Pokemon, yes. But what did he still have? The rest of his team. The friends he made on his journey. The goal to make the world a better place by strengthening the harmony between humans and Pokemon. Michael resented being placed in the Weakling Ward. He would prove them wrong. He would remain strong through all of this. If Eimyrja was somehow still alive, he had to survive for her and reunite. And if she wasn't? There would be Hell to pay.

The blood-mixed tears dried beneath the facade that hid Michael's expression from the rest of the prisoners. As one Megalopolan came to retrieve him, he forcibly snapped his hand away and rose on his own. He and the others shuffled onto the platform. He held solace knowing that the prison failed to turn the wards against each other, at least to his knowledge. Once the Dummy Ward joined, Michael attempted to breathe the fires of camaraderie into the others before they descended into the pit below.

"Our Jailers want to break us," he reminded. "We can never let them win. Even if we don't win a battle of strength, we must win the battle of wits and survival. They tried to turn us on each other, and we proved them wrong. No matter what happens, no matter what they promise, we're stronger together."

Whether his speech would inspire or fall on deaf ears, the crowded platform ground to a halt. Okidogi, in all of his brilliant brawn and glory, chose Michael as one of the prisoners to violently throw off of the platform and into the pit below. Even with such a short fall, the impact on his left shoulder bruised the muscle and bone. In defiance, he grit his teeth in a refusal to show any signs of agony through pained cries. Like an obedient prisoner, he got right to work. He did his best to not let his squeamishness get in the way of the task, whether he was grasping old mochi or dead bodies.

Then, the Punishment of Dummy Ward commenced. Fighting masked menace outright could lead to punishment. Diverting its attention could lead to punishment. The only viable option? Double—No, triple his efforts. The sooner the Prisoners cleaned the pit, the sooner the punishment would end. When Dummy Ward's chains fastened them and made movement nigh impossible, Michael took it upon himself to clean in their stead.

A sudden force smacked against Michael's head. His ears rang, his vision blurred. Fresh iron whetted his tongue and gums. The world was spinning as Michael fell to his hands and knees from the Ogrepon's attack.

uFfgeWzD

---

TLDR:
-Michael attemptts to instill hope
-The Cadet attempts to quicken the pace of the cleaning by helping others
-He gets his beatings from Okidogi, then from Ogrepon

Punished Pokemon:

they're given another menial task; maki is starting to grow tired of these things. nevermind the physical torment, the mental anguish of doing the same things over and over is going to be the thing that breaks people... sighing, she gets to work, going down on her hands and knees to start sorting through the muck. the mochi pieces are somehow more disgusting than the bits of decaying flesh, as she picks up and puts everything in its proper place.

then comes the growling. she ignores it at first, but when the masked creature shows itself, she's quick to try and avoid it. usually her reaction time would be quick enough, but she's hampered badly by the toxic chain. grimacing, maki is pulled into place, left a sitting duck for punishment. the only thing she can do is try to twist around the toxic chain, ignoring the pain from straining it, to avoid the beast.

unfortunately, it's not enough. she's buffeted and beaten by the assault, though she doesn't cry out or show any sign that she's in pain.

1K0lnWNQ

After he had cast his vote for the Dummy Ward, Oscar made the mistake of looking back at the screens. He had hoped that their respective masks would do better to hide their identity, but to his dismay Oscar would pick out multiple prisoners that he recognized. Tempest Quinn, Amor Rose, howard slayte, Eris Halla, people he cared for and did not want to see hurt. Yet the damage was done, and as Oscar heard more voices announcing their decisions Oscar could not help but frantically shake his head.

"No--no I didn't know. I didn't know!" Oscar's distress distracted him, and by the time he noticed the two guards approaching him and Navy it was nearly too late to escape their wrath. But he still could if he could just drop Navy to the ground. That was all he had to do, let go of Navy and step to the side.

There was nowhere to go, being tethered to everyone else ensured that there was very little wiggle room.

Just let go

Oscar shivered, "Hey he's just delusional you don't need to..." Oscar let go of the person in front of him and tried to back away.

Drop him

Oscar realized what was coming and tightened his grip on the ailing man that hung over his back.

Coward

The first strikes were delivered to Navy, causing Oscar to fall to his knees. Yet he hung on for as long as he could, trying not to be pushed to the floor. The blows were too intense, and soon Oscar would topple over with Navy falling to his side. They were both beaten indiscriminately, with every strike feeling heavier than the last. It had been a very long time since Oscar had took such an unbridled beating, and all the while he would be giving himself lashings within his mind.

What were you trying to prove? That you're a good person? Was it worth it?

Oscar's body thrashed under each baneful strike.

You were never meant to do good. The sooner you accept that...

Oscar gurgled as he felt blood filling up within his mouth, his teeth clenching to hold the deluge back.

...the sooner it will stop hurting.

And then it was over. It had only been a minute but the ferocity of the onslaught had made it seem like an eternity. Oscar breathed slowly, wincing under every heave. He wanted to lay there forever, just bleed on the floor and die quietly. That was not an option though, never was. Oscar pushed himself to his feet, struggling against nausea and cramps. He buckled once or twice, but he managed to stand up after an immense effort. Without a word he would grab the hand of the person in front of him once more, followed by the hand of Navy. He no longer had the strength to carry him.

Their bird lord took flight with the daisy chain of ugly prisoners attached. Oscar could not concentrate on the absurdity of such a feat, he was far too dazed. His mind was blank as they arrived, falling to his knees as his legs refused to land gracefully. Everyone's masks popped off a bit, revealing Oscar's cut up face. He looked up, his eyes darting around the room before resting upon the person that stood in front of him. When he realized who they were, he let out a long wheeze. "Priam...?"

His dear friend had been there all along, how could Oscar not have recognized him? He stared at him for a few seconds, until his body remembered how severely beaten it was. The nausea became overwhelming, and Oscar would scramble to the side as far as he could so he could vomit properly. At least it did not get into his mask.

As Oscar recovered, a familiar voice would address the prisoners. Oscar looked upon the crying mask, its beauty would have been enticing if not for the man that stood before it. Wearing a Toxic Chain of his own was none other than General Velmos. Oscar looked to Priam and then back at the general, they had both seen him safely secured within a cell--how did he escape? Plus Oscar had thought that they were on good terms, what was he doing with this evil bird?

Oscar got his answer the longer he listened, Velmos did not sound like himself. Was he brainwashed? Perhaps by the giant chain that was pumping a mysterious fluid into his throat? Seemed a little obvious when he thought about it. But now was not the time to think, the Ugly Ward had a reward to claim. One by one they were dragged to the mask to look at--something. Those who struggled were violently forced to look into it, there was no point in resisting. When it became Oscar's turn, he willingly looked into the mask to get it over with.

What he saw was his greatest desire. Ever Grande was burning, the seat of the League had been demolished. Airships bearing Rocket's insignia flew overhead, dropping bombs onto what little life remained. The view was so clear, yet Oscar was far away. He was standing atop a black tower, watching with crazed glee as the war was finally won. He began to cackle joyfully, reveling in the glorious future that Rocket had promised. A Toxic Chain still hung by his neck, yet it felt weightless. It was a part of him, as easy to maneuver as his own arms. Its importance was ingrained into Oscar's mind, and he found himself unknowingly laughing within the real world as well.

Until he wasn't. Oscar was suddenly staring at a white tile wall as hot water poured over his exposed body. He could not remember how he got there, or how long he had been standing under this shower. He did not mind the temperature, nor that others could probably see his uncovered form. He just stared at the wall, his mind fixated on the future.

rpv_kUTs

tl;dr

--Oscar gets the shit beat out of him, too proud to drop Navy. He is not happy about it.
--Within the chamber of desires Oscar recognizes priam conrad and then throws up. Those two occurrences are not related.
--Oscar clocks Velmos, and willing looks into the mask. His greatest desire is for Rocket to destroy the League and finally take over Hoenn.
--Oscar liked his vision so much that it's all he can focus on as he showers.
--Ugly Ward.