Maleficar shuddered vigorously, and as Ronald reluctantly pulled his eyes away from the violent drama taking place nearby he would be forced to take notice. Something was wrong, and it was only going to get more wrong in the coming seconds. Ronald's shoulder's drooped, "Oh drat what is it now?"

He wouldn't have to wait long, as a wild Sceptile would soon attack the search party! Anticipating the ambush, Maleficar would be able to easily jump out of the way and swiftly follow up with an attack. Bile burst from his mouth, forming a lofty orb that would be fired point-blank at the intruder. If the Sludge Bomb should it, the sceptile should be more open to the attacks that followed.

Ronald pumped his fist into the air, "Yes! Go team! Kick its behind back to hell where it belongs!"


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arthur finnian vanderbilt , Greyson Connors , Celia Auclair , Stormy Silph

A hefty clap on the shoulder sent chills down Ronald's spine. As he looked to his assailant, the loud one known as Arthur, a look of complete and utter disgust passed across his face. Ronald grit his teeth as he stepped away from the young man, recoiling as he shuddered. To think this whelp would dare touch him, of all the insulant nonsense. Didn't his whore mother ever teach him to keep his hands to himself? 

Ronald curled his lips in as he bit his tongue, preventing an onslaught of swears and cruses that would have been aimed at Arthur. His fury was averted for now, but who knows what might happen if the peasant were to touch him again. Surely he wouldn't dare. Ronald let out a sigh as the group's primary loud mouth requested that they keep to the task at hand. Ronald agreed.

"I concur. The sooner we find the little twer-ahem-angel--the quicker we can put this nasty business behind us!"

Meanwhile Maleficar was taking his duties quite seriously. Flanked by his fellow pokemon, he too noticed that they were being followed. Or at the very least watched. He kept his wits about him, shuddering with Anticipation as he anticipated an ambush. Hopefully their observer knew better than to interfere. 


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arthur finnian vanderbilt , Greyson Connors , Celia Auclair , Stormy Silph

A chuckle came behind Stormy as she assaulted the hollering rube. A lean man in dark clothes covered his mouth, stifling what would have been a nefarious cackle. After all, he wished not to draw too much attention to himself. He cleared his throat, stepping forward to speak in a hushed tone. 

"Right you are ma'me, quite right. If we are to sneak upon the child and capture him, we must use stealth and caution." Ronald stopped short as he thought for a moment, bumping his forehead as he remembered his purpose here. "I-I mean save the child. Apologies, slip of the tongue and all that." 

Ronald chuckled nervously as he slunk back into the shadows, attempting to avoid scrutiny as the search continued. He couldn't help it if his nerves were frayed, he was attempting to do some good for once after all. Not out of the kindness of the black abyss that used to be his heart, no no he sought profit and nothing else. Surely he would be rewarded handsomely should he heroically save the lost Andy from the wilderness. That was the custom with these kinds of searches right? It better be.

His toxicroak, Maleficar, slid forward as he peered into every shadow. His eyes were sharper than any human's, slowly scanning his surroundings as he waited for danger with Anticipation. He didn't trust the other humans; they lacked the amorality of his master, which made them a threat. He slid up next to the Silvally at the front, watching its back as the party moved forward.

A voice broke the sailor's concentration, causing his next whittle to become a chop and ruin the wood. He wasn't angry however, in fact he seemed quite pleased. He adjusted the worn hat that sat upon his head as he turned toward the strange, making extra care that they couldn't see his eyes. He threw his arms open in welcome, laughing heartily as he chucked his wood and knife into the ocean.

"Welcome lass!" The sailor boomed, his voice worn by years of inhaling ocean air. "Come aboard! Yer just in time, we're about to shove off. Where did that first mate of mine run off to? First mate! Where are ya?"

A barrel near the ship's cabin popped open, and from it jumped out a croakgunk with a sailor hat and a pipe in its mouth. The first mate sauntered toward his master, saluting him as he waited for orders. "There ye are, look lively now! We have a customer, collect her payment while I unfurl the sails! Then hoist the anchor! We have to get moving while the air's still cool!"

The first mate nodded, hobbling over to the plank ramp to meet the girl. As he approached he stuck out one hand and pointed to the banner with the other. Under the bright wording was slightly less noticeable letter that read: 50pd per passenger. Once payment was collected, the first mate would escort the customer onto the ship.

eliora potts

It was a warm morning in Lilycove; the sun was harsh, but the clouds blocked it just enough to make being outside somewhat pleasant. It was the kind of weather that was nice, but also mysterious and cozy. It was a fine day for sailing especially, and the Lilycove docks were abuzz as sailors set off to fish--or whatever sailors do.

One boat at the end of the dock stood dormant, swaying quietly in the gentle current. It was a banged up, rotting little vessel covered in barnacles. Whoever owned it gave it very little care, and most dock visitors would give it a wide berth. Contrasting with the dreary boat, a large colorful banner could be seen hanging between the sails. 

In bright pink it read: Corsala Migration Cruise!

A salty looking seadog wearing a tattered long-coat and a white beard could be sitting on the deck, slowly whittling away at a piece of wood. He checked his watch, a small smirk crossing his lips as he saw the time. It wouldn't be long now.

Night fell upon the gloomy face of Mt. Pyre, spreading a blanket of darkness across its innumerable graves. The grieving had ended their tears for the day, and one by one they left their dearly departed behind to return to their lives. All was quiet upon the mountain, a state befitting the resting place of hundreds of pokemon.

Beyond the wind swaying the grass and flowers, all was still. This made it extra obvious when a rock was suddenly lifted into the air and discarded. No not a rock, it was some sort of plaster dome painted grey. A figure rose where the dome once lay, a low cackle building in his throat. To his left was a toxicroak holding a large empty sack, who seemed more than a bit pleased that he no longer had to squat in the dark.

The mysterious man, lean and clad in black, brushed out his long dark hair as he looked down to his minion. "Maleficar, let us begin our nefarious plot!" Maleficar nodded, bursting forth toward the nearest grave. Swiftly he began to gather the flowers that lay upon each individual plot, stuffing them roughly into the bag as he sneaked from grave to grave. 

The man cackled, picking up a flower of his own to admire. "Ronald, you are an evil genius."

Ronald Rogers