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POSTED ON Apr 4, 2024 15:53:28 GMT

Oscar looked back at his cellmate, who weakly claimed that no one in charge would care about his condition. Oscar frowned behind his mask, knowing deep down the man spoke the truth. If they wanted him to feel better, they would have given him treatment before throwing him in here--fuckin' bastards. Oscar decided to focus on the man's inquiry: Who was out there? Oscar focused himself, trying to absorb as much of the sights and sounds as he could.

"Megalopolans. They're patrolling the cells, they all got chains like ours. They don't seem bothered by them though." He wondered why megalopolans were here at all, but that could be answered another time.

"I can hear some voices I recognize, but there's too many of them at once. It's impossible to tell who the other prisoners are."

Michael Navidson

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Navy

He/Him

October 13th

Slateport

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E4; Gym Leader

Sheriff

5'10" / 177.8 cm height

In the warrior's code, there's no surrender. Though his body says stop, his spirit cries, "NEVER!"

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POSTED ON Apr 4, 2024 16:01:18 GMT

Hyakkaryōran Tsubaki and howard slayte like this

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I SHOT A MAN IN SLATEPORT JUST TO WATCH HIM DIE.

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“Mega…?” Further extrapolations form. A gulp cuts off the rest of the word spoken by his cellmate. A new sensation downs in the small of his stomach. In a world presently defined by sick delirium, dread rears its ugly head.[break][break]
“Oh fuck me.” He growls like a wounded Perrserker. “Baki was…Baki was right…” Hyakkaryōran Tsubaki tried to warn him. Yuina Higashi, howard slayte, and all the others that spoke about their experiences gave them hints something was coming.[break][break]
A man reaps what he sows.[break][break]
Once more, he tries to sit up. This second attempt is even poorer than the first.[break][break]
“What’s the…last thing you ‘member…’fore you woke up here?”[break][break]
With his body gone to ruin, his mind takes up the sword. It cuts against the dark, as if the question might catch something unseen and reveal the whole truth.

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Ozzy

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POSTED ON Apr 4, 2024 16:09:03 GMT

Oscar glanced backward, once again pitying his cellmate as he failed to sit up. He would not answer his question at first, instead walking toward the man and kneeling over him.

"How about I help you sit up first. Then we can chat all you want, alright?"

Oscar would offer his thin arms for stability, should the man accept his help.

Michael Navidson

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Teddie

Navy

He/Him

October 13th

Slateport

Heterosexual

E4; Gym Leader

Sheriff

5'10" / 177.8 cm height

In the warrior's code, there's no surrender. Though his body says stop, his spirit cries, "NEVER!"

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POSTED ON Apr 4, 2024 16:12:09 GMT

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I SHOT A MAN IN SLATEPORT JUST TO WATCH HIM DIE.

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He takes it. Navy has a warrior’s pride, but any warrior who turns down offered help is a fool. Sitting up, he leans against the stranger. Any other day, he’d make a joke just to cut off kyle lopez from making one later.[break][break]
For now, leaning against this amateur Samaritan, the person with whom he has been thrust into the fresh hell, he simply nods in gratitude.[break][break]
“Thanks…buddy. Had a…rough couple of days, myself.”[break][break]
He turns away, coughing into his elbow.

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POSTED ON Apr 4, 2024 16:22:10 GMT

Oscar nodded at the man's thanks, looking to his arms as his cellmate coughed. Only now did Oscar question whether the man was carrying some sort of virus, and whether said virus was easily transmittable.

"Uh weird question--you're not contagious right?" Oscar looked around as if searching for a buffer to his awkward query, which of course was unsuccessful. He decided to just quickly change the subject.

"Um right, I remember coming home--making dinner--pouring a glass of wine--turning on the tv--then I guess I knocked out. Maybe my wine was drugged? No I had just opened it. Maybe my food..." Oscar started to mumble to himself as he attempted to solve this unfortunate mystery, before eventually realizing that he was being weird again.

"Oop, sorry. Uh, what about you?"

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Navy

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October 13th

Slateport

Heterosexual

E4; Gym Leader

Sheriff

5'10" / 177.8 cm height

In the warrior's code, there's no surrender. Though his body says stop, his spirit cries, "NEVER!"

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POSTED ON Apr 4, 2024 16:26:02 GMT

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oscar clayton

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I SHOT A MAN IN SLATEPORT JUST TO WATCH HIM DIE.

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“I was in a hospital.” He admits, before feeling the need to clarify. “I’m just…exhausted. I’m always on the move. Dewford needs my help, plus half the region got caught in, in, in…” He finds his voice, only to lose it again.[break][break]
Instead of speaking the next word, he grabs at the chain around his own neck. It clangs his collarbone. This he finishes without word.[break][break]
“Now…it’s caught us too…”

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POSTED ON Apr 4, 2024 16:33:42 GMT

"Uh huh..." Oscar looked to his own chain, feeling silly for having not seen such a thing before. He had pretty much locked himself in his lab all month working on a new arm for Shred Zeppelin--guess he missed more than he thought.

"Another day, another crisis in Hoenn." Oscar said dismissively as he stood back up. He walked back to the bars, once again trying to be the eyes for his cellmate. "I don't suppose you would know why the megalopolans are here..."

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Navy

He/Him

October 13th

Slateport

Heterosexual

E4; Gym Leader

Sheriff

5'10" / 177.8 cm height

In the warrior's code, there's no surrender. Though his body says stop, his spirit cries, "NEVER!"

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POSTED ON Apr 4, 2024 16:38:04 GMT

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I SHOT A MAN IN SLATEPORT JUST TO WATCH HIM DIE.

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“I…don’t know.” There is shame in the admission, shame as he uses all of the pitiful embers of his strength to remain upright. It strains his right arm, but it can take the punishment. Eyes the color of steel follow his cellmate, trying to peer outside the cell from where he sits. He sees nothing.[break][break]
“League intel’s good, but they’re…they’re busy. Busy…on…other stuff.”[break][break]
Kyurem’s movements, Kyogre, containing the wilds…there’s a million things that could have gone wrong, a million crises waiting to happen. This one, Navy thinks, was wholly unexpected – the way all real crisis scenarios are.

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POSTED ON Apr 4, 2024 16:49:05 GMT

The League's intel huh? So his cellmate was affiliated with the League, and perhaps not a civilian due to his access to 'intel'. Maybe a ranger? Oscar's head fell against the bars, did it fucking matter? Sides and fractions did not mean shit when everyone is behind the same bars, trapped by fucking aliens. He had to stop thinking like a Rocket and keep thinking like a human being.

Oscar turned and leaned his back against the bars, concluding that there was nothing more worth seeing beyond them. "Damn League doesn't tell me anything. This is what I get for giving up on asking for intelligence briefings." Oscar tilted his head, "You don't seem comfortable. Maybe there's something in here we can prop you up with."

Michael Navidson

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Navy

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October 13th

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Heterosexual

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Sheriff

5'10" / 177.8 cm height

In the warrior's code, there's no surrender. Though his body says stop, his spirit cries, "NEVER!"

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POSTED ON Apr 4, 2024 16:58:46 GMT

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A small nod indicates the stool. It will do for now. Reaching a hand out, he tries to help himself along the way to the desk before, inevitably he is helped along.[break][break]
“You, uh, one of Ollie’s boys, then?” An affectionate term for ollie morales’s cabal of rangers. “Or, uh, military?”

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POSTED ON Apr 4, 2024 17:08:45 GMT

His cellmate motioned toward the stool, and even as they attempted to reach for it himself Oscar would walk over to help them along. As he helped get his stranger acquaintance situated, Oscar would be asked about his role within the League. This could only lead to trouble, but Oscar would answer truthfully. His civilian persona had nothing to hide.

"Worse, neither. I run a corporation out of Mauville. Probably isn't hard to guess which one." Oscar stepped away as he finished propping up the man, folding his arms as he admired his handiwork. "Fuck it, that basically gave it away so I'll just introduce myself. My name's Oscar Clayton, ceo of GMH. Nice to meet you."

Oscar did not expect an introduction in return, he let his cellmate decide whether to maintain anonymity. Oscar returned to his position by the bars. "As to my attempted involvement with the League, I keep wanting to help but the commissioner never returns my calls. I don't think she trusts me for some reason."

Michael Navidson

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Teddie

Navy

He/Him

October 13th

Slateport

Heterosexual

E4; Gym Leader

Sheriff

5'10" / 177.8 cm height

In the warrior's code, there's no surrender. Though his body says stop, his spirit cries, "NEVER!"

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POSTED ON Apr 6, 2024 19:50:53 GMT

oscar clayton likes this

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I SHOT A MAN IN SLATEPORT JUST TO WATCH HIM DIE.

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“Don’t take it, uh, personally.” The words are heaved out of his lungs like the afterbirth of some great steam engine. “She, well, the commissioner…she’s one busy lady.”[break][break]
His brain racks itself in its delirium, trying to see if it can find some mention of Oscar Clayton. No earth-shattering revelations are forthcoming. Although good with names, his post as Elite Four overstimulates him. There’s a hundred new names every day. Each of them, like Oscar, is a CEO, some donor or well-wisher of the government.[break][break]
“Name’s Navy.” Hunched over the desk, his back exposed to Oscar, he does not understand how closely he flirts with death. “Elite Four. Fighting type specialist. Formerly Dewford’s gym leader ‘til about…a week ago, I guess.”

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POSTED ON Apr 10, 2024 14:00:16 GMT

Continued from this post.

Oscar sat himself down and started polishing those stupid Tera Crystals. He expected Navy to be able to manage the work himself, he seemed cognitive enough to do so. Yet Oscar would glance over as the Elite mumbled something nonsensical, and only then would he realize how absolutely fucked Navy was. He seemed mentally sound earlier, but now he looked as vacant as a one star motel. Oscar could not help but stare, an unexplainable wave of worry falling over him.

Oscar forced himself to look away, what did he care if this stranger--this enemy could complete his work or not. Maybe the warden would do him a favor and take him out right--

The sound of a swinging blade broke Oscar's concentration. He looked over to find the warden standing over them, having used its razor sharp wing to knock Navy's stone aside. Oscar found himself protesting immediately, standing up and exclaiming "Hey!" As he met the warden's gaze. This thing was--different up close. It looked so strikingly beautiful that Oscar found himself instantly losing his nerve. Its glare followed Oscar as he slowly sat back down, returning to his polishing without another word.

The warden departed, and as Navy was thrown back into position Oscar would feel that horrible urge take over him once more. The urge to help.

Oscar began polishing more quickly, passing every other finished crystal to Navy. If Navy added them to his pile, it would look like he was doing more. Oscar did not acknowledge the sick man as he did this, he expected Navy to accept his offering without further comment. His life depended on it.
Michael Navidson

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Teddie

Navy

He/Him

October 13th

Slateport

Heterosexual

E4; Gym Leader

Sheriff

5'10" / 177.8 cm height

In the warrior's code, there's no surrender. Though his body says stop, his spirit cries, "NEVER!"

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POSTED ON Apr 11, 2024 4:14:29 GMT

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I SHOT A MAN IN SLATEPORT JUST TO WATCH HIM DIE.

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Again and again and again, his palm presses over one stone. When it is eventually tossed into the finished pile, there are still spots. Only when Oscar starts passing him stones is there a sudden illusion of there being real, tangible progress.[break][break]
It is still just that: an illusion. It will fade upon scrutiny, and anyone with half a brain to count will realize the ward is slacking.[break][break]
Those are concerns for men with whole minds. The mochi buries itself into him, chaining his heart. Even then, the scent of their warden lingers in his nose like a fine perfume. His head thrums like dancing bodies in a nightclub. Constant, ever-changing, ever moving. Electric motion. His head drowning in a peachy haze.[break][break]
“Thanks…man…” He says, wishing he had more mochi to eat and the warm blood of a beloved foe to wash it down.[break][break]
“How’re we, how the hell, how are we supposed to kill somethin’ like that…?” The question is mumbled, slurred.[break][break]
Maybe it’s the resignation in his voice when he says it, the acceptance that this foe is beyond him, that saves his life. The guard closest to them laughs like he’s heard an excellent joke. Navy’s chain tightens, but not enough to choke him.[break][break]
It’s just tight enough for him to remember it’s there with every breath he takes, a reality within his fever dream that this is real.

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