The idea of being kept in prison by a monkey was something that Howard would've found absurd, given he could've easily punted it across the prison ward. If he was lucky, it'd hit the Tera Crystal structure above and get a concussion. That way, its ridiculously large forehead could swell even further with a concussion.

That was before it killed someone with its mind. The sound of creaking flesh stretching beyond its limit mixed with the sounds of splattering blood and meat made Howard want to hurl.

As the screams grew louder, the admin vomited into the toilet bowl. The sound would mix into an unholy symphony for PENELOPE LIVY and the surrounding cellmates. An orchestra of blood and gore was only enhanced by the sound of bile against a bowl. When he stopped, the toilet bowl was swimming with partially digested chunks of cheap ramen.

Disgusting. The mixture of poverty and imprisonment melded together in unholy matrimony.

"How the fuck...!?" Howard wiped his mouth as the cells morphed, becoming the same magenta chain he had seen dozens of times before. "...that's disgusting."

One death. There would be more. A statistical irrelevancy. Their story was lost, and there was little to weep for.

Mochi was passed into the cell, and Howard stared at it, then at Penelope. When faced with overwhelming power, there was nothing to do but bow. Better to live and be ruled rather than die in a moment of glory. How someone stood in their final moments was important, but a last stand here would do nothing.

He'd rather scrape than die painfully. He could bear the shame in Rocket, he could bear it here. What was the difference? That logic filled his soul as mochi filled his mouth. They'd need strength for what was coming.

"C'mon." He gestured at his cellmate, before walking across the floor towards the crates. Sandals clacked against the cool, uncaring floor. This job was easy enough. His hands were deft as he plucked chunks of stone from other valuable minerals. This was his job outside of prison. It was the same within.

For a moment, he felt guilty about such compliance. It would vanish quickly, but he acted on it before it would pass.

"Returning home." The admin laughed breathily as a chunk of Dynite Ore cut his palm. His voice was soft, but loud enough for a nearby guard to hear. "That won't happen. Time is a flat circle, and nothing will ever change. You can try to return home as often as you wish. It means nothing."

A drip of blood wetted the stones he sorted. As his eye flicked up to the warden, he felt a flicker of something familiar. A dream he had, long ago, when feasting on mochi.

Magenta foods dyed dreams violet, and left nothing behind.

"You're gonna try to make it home, over and over again. You'll never make it, because we've already won. Soon, there will be as many Quaestor Lucises as there are stars in the sky. Like the stars, they'll wink out, one by one." The admin gave a wry smile.

"But neither you nor those ships will never find the light you seek."

He wondered if he could kill his cellmate with a sharpened chunk of Dynite Ore.

---

Eating as much MOCHI as possible
I LOVE TO WORK
Hating Penelope is cool actually
Referencing a vision from BMI
Complaining about Megalopolans
Prison is like being in Rocket LMFAO
Chatting with Howard is cool : )
Cutting his hand on a sharp rock
4yhKJReY

The whirring of machinery calls to Michael like a Siren's song. Through his visor he bears witness to the Pokemon with uncanny resemblances to the statues of Lavaridge; A muscular bipedal dog, a dark, mischievous monkey, and a graceful pheasant. All three Pokemon sported the Toxic chains, as did the humans who patrolled the ward.

If Michael remembered anything during the past month, it was that the Toxic Chains both empowered and enthralled their hosts. This very thought sent chills of fear down his spine. He couldn't help but wonder if he, too, like the others imprisoned in the gaol, would eventually succumb to the Toxic Chains. He feared that he, too, would unwittingly submit.

The tray of Mochi slid into his dingy cell. A look of disgust fell on the Mochi. Survival instincts and common sense raged war within the Cadet's mind. If he ate the Mochi, he might eventually turn into a zombie just like in Lavaridge Town. If he refused, he may very well suffer the same terrible fate of a slow, painful death. Or worse.

The story from the guards of the Three Day War did not ring any bells with the Cadet. But it was as clear as day; those imprisoned here were being punished for Hoenn's supposed actions. Michael wanted to scream in defiance. He wished to refute their methods and logic of the punishment of those who shared no blame for the events of the past.

The sudden gruesome act committed by the Okidogi pushed aside these dark and foreboding thoughts. Even in such an expansive space, the squelching and snapping of tearing sinew and breaking bones echoed for all hear. Michael could not tear his eyes away. Despite his brain screaming to not look on, he continued to do so in horror. The Cadet's stomach dropped and twisted more with each passing second until the screams finally stopped.

"We need to keep up our strength," he finally lamented in a call to Josh Devlin and others in the Weakling Ward. "I can't remember the last time we had food. If we don't eat, we get punished. So we eat. Disobedience will lead to death. We have to comply if we want any chance of survival. We need to survive not only for us, but for our loved ones."

Just one Mochi, Michael reasoned. Just one and the effects of its toxins would have little effect on his mind and body. Just one to keep up his strength, no more. With a frown, he took an experimental nibble before chewing and swallowing. It was genuinely pleasant, with a flavor of peach. The Cadet then consumed the rest of the Mochi he held in his hand.

A Toxic Chain tethered itself to the collar on Michael's neck. How fitting it was that even in prison, there would be no fantasies of freedom. Michael's stomach turned again at the thought of obeying the Wardens and guards. He refused to believe himself as some obedient dog with a collar and chain keeping him in line. On the surface, he'd submit. But underneath, he strategized.

Choosing to comply tore Michael up inside. But what choice did he have? He would not die as a Martyr when he could bolster the survival of the others. The promise of the rewards went against his training. Yet again, he had no choice but to comply. So to work he went, using his bare hands to smash the rocks embedded with crystals. A wince and gasp would escape him every time he'd catch his fingers against the concrete. Bruises formed and crimson streaks stained the rocks from the cuts he would endure.

When he was sure no one was looking, he would attempt to sneak a sharp shard of crystal into his robes. Having protection may prove useful.

cleiGdtz

---

Josh Devlin
TLDR:
-Michael attempts to bolster the confidence of the others in the prison
-Michael eats ONE Mochi
-Michael attempts to smuggle a shard

Taking a moment to catch his breath (as best he could), Hideo listened to his cellmate's explanations. "Right, the cannibals." He'd heard enough stories about them eating people to know the ones that invaded Hoenn were not to be trusted. "I heard Rocket is working with them, so this could be a Rocket thing too."

And he could still remember that weird vision in RKS of him being captured and interrogated by Rocket…though this situation didn't really feel all that similar.

He took in a deep breath - a bit of clarity reaching his mind. "You're right. We gotta know what we're dealing with first before we try anything."

And they were just about to receive a lesson; what he could only assume was their captor walked out from an elevator, the Megalopolans guarding them serving as its mouthpiece. "...we're the weakling ward?" Hideo muttered, his quiet words dripping with disgust.

He wasn't weak. He knew he wasn't weak.

Hideo took notice to the metal tray clanked in front of him, and he was hesitant to find out what was on that tray - and it sounded like someone else was as well.

And while Hideo couldn't see the consequences of open defiance, he could hear every sickening crack, every devastating crunch it would bring.

Reluctantly, he dug into his plate, the mochi being surprisingly tasty - and it allayed the hunger he'd been suppressing in his frantic search. What other option did he have?

Just work, do as he's told, and find a way out. Play the part of an ideal prisoner while he looked for whatever openings he could, just nod when they talk down to him and call him weak.

It's a life he's lived before.

(Though home life hadn't carried the risk of getting beaten to death for disobedience)

Hideo didn't fully realize what the chain around his neck attaching to the cell bars meant until he reached out to them, realizing the bars were gone - or rather, they were now part of the chain. He tugged on the chain, assessing how far the leash went. A good distance, but probably nowhere near far enough to escape this place.

As if he even knew the way out - or what was awaiting them outside of here.

Mochi properly masticated, Hideo made his way out, taking in as many full-breaths as he could before the mask once more covered his mouth. He didn't know what awaited him in the middle, but he could hear the other prisoners heading towards there. He tried to listen for any other voices, but between how many voices there were and the quality of their voices (thanks, masks), he couldn't tell if there was anyone else he knew here.

He could only hope someone would recognize him by chance, and tell him who they were.

Soon, their job was presented: break crystals.

Straightforward…if they were given any tools to work with. But Hideo already had an idea; he'd probe around for any rocks that he could pick up, grabbing one and using it to smash the larger rocks.

The next part, actually collecting the shards afterwards…that was the harder part. Hideo had to carefully probe around with his hands, trying to find every bit he broke off - but careful enough to not pierce his hands on a stray piece.

And just as he collected a handful of shards, a large, furry hand came from below, smacking his hands up, sending his collected shards everywhere. He could hear the dog laughing as he covered his head, trying to protect himself from the falling shards - and any other attacks the dog would make.

Fortunately, he got out with just a few scrapes on his hand, the dog walking off to antagonize someone else - someone it sounded like got a punch to the chest.

Quietly, Hideo once more searched for the shards. He didn't want to ask for help - doing so would make him look weak, and he had a feeling the dog would be the first one to answer his pleas.

The thought crossed his mind to try and smuggle some shards in his mouth to use later - but first, he needed to see if they'd be searched or inspected after their work.

MOrkml1O

Eats the mochi after hearing the consequences of not doing so being worse than not getting dessert

Damn it's just like being home (+murder)

Checks how far the chain goes before going to center

Damn too many voices (and masks muffling them) to tell who's who

Does his job, engages in rock-on-rock violence. Carefully probes for shards

Okidogi is an Okidick and knocks the shards out of his hands (before going over and decking Noel Parker )

Considers smuggling shards, but wants to check if they get frisked/searched afterwards first.

Genevieve Cromwell

any thought of resisting the suspicious mochi is quashed as maki watches the monkey pokemon kill the stranger in her ward. unwilling to die in a place like this, she obediently eats the mochi and watches as it takes effect, furrowing her brow. it's occurring to her that this is no normal kidnapping, and that there will likely be no rescue coming.

out in the ward, she can see the others more clearly. unfortunately, there's nobody she recognizes. staying silent, she picks a spot and starts working. she observes how sharp the shards are, and how easily one might cut themself on them... taking hold of one, she observes it carefully, and then carefully slides it into her yukata between her breasts, stashing it away for later. its use as a potential weapon is far more important than worrying about it pricking her.

with that done, she sets about organizing things. she doesn't trust the promise of "the chamber of desires", at all, but she's trying to play as nice as possible in order to trick her warden into thinking she's compliant. she doesn't talk to anyone, and focuses on the task at hand.

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