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[attr="class","bisc"]The kid turned to stare down the path. You’d have to tip him an arm and a leg to get him up here. “Arceus, that sounds terrible.” Sure, he could bake his own pizzas. Bakery tried that as a side business for a while. But there was nothing like good old grease in a box. “I couldn’t live out here.” Realizing it might look like they were talking about them—which they totally weren’t—the brunette straightened as they approached.

He looked like a kid that’d been caught with his hand in the forbidden cookie jar. “And, uh, Kingsley Confections.” It felt weird to just let the ranger thing stand. Like wearing a military tattoo without signing up. The talk of ride Pokemon made him smile. A hand reached out to gently ruffle the Persian’s ears. “She did great.” Sure, he wouldn’t be riding a cat any time soon. Or, um, not after they got back anyway.

As Shalin talked to the clients, he let labrador eyes slide to the Type:Null beside her. His gaze grew conflicted. Knowing what it took to make that thing churned his stomach. But it wasn’t like it was the Pokemon’s fault, huh? The thing didn’t ask to be welded together. For a second, he’s tempted by the offer to stay. It’d be the first time he slept in a fort. And, now that he saw them, they didn’t actually seem like the cannibal types.

He stretched for a second. Sure, he couldn’t hurt, but there was still something to be said about getting the blood flowing.

But it’d be rude to let Shalin go back by herself. Mom always told him to walk a lady home, even if that lady could break his spine. Or if that walk meant going back down a mountain. So, instead, he just lifted his hand in farewell.

“Yeah.” He mounts back up on the cat. This time, he’s less nervous about it. It’s not really new anymore. Besides, it’s a lot less scary going downhill.

As the fortress fades from view, he turns to Shalin. “So, uh, do you actually have plans tonight, or…” That conversation would be the start of the long commute back.

Shalin Nariya

☉

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[attr="class","bisc"]The woman’s jab makes him frown. It wasn’t like he’d feel it if he took a Hydro Steam to the face.

“I did!” Though maybe that’s not right. To him concepts like life, death, and war are kind of fuzzy. Sure, he’s read and seen stories, but he’s never actually fought like this. Not in this world anyway. He had a lot of growing and remembering to do before he was the King of Smiles again.

“It’s not about me!” Honestly, Scotti felt like a video game NPC. He’d never done anything important, and he doubted he ever would. Maybe that’s why he was out here trying to save Nilla. Sure, he wanted to be a good big brother. But, more than that, he wanted to matter. “That thing’s going to hit you if you aren’t careful.”

His heart pounded as the attack went off. Some part of him wanted to apologize to the stumbling monstrosity. His eyes widen as the Walking Wake erupts in crystalline light. Brown eyes fixate on the water spout on its head. And then, suddenly, he’s free. “!!”

In an instant, he’s up and running. Clumsily, the teenager dodges her first. It whistles through the gap between his flailing arm and his oversized jacket. After he makes it a few dozen steps, he remembers his shiny Dunsparce. “Chugga buddy, come—!”

The little normal type is quivering in the wartorn soil. As the water nears it, the Dunsparce’s tail glows a feral purple. Its Dragon Tail ripples outward from its attack. But the Hydro Steam washes hits him like a tsunami. Now unconscious, the snake collapses into the mud.

Biscotti pauses for just a second before racing perpendicular to his original path. The woods might give him some protection. At least if Rocket’s obeyed borders as much as they protected them.


50 MP showcase your own character's strength(s) meaningfully.
50 MP showcase your own character's weakness(es) meaningfully.
50 MP have your character directly or indirectly spotlight another writer's character's strengths.
50 MP have your character reflect on why they're fighting/reflect on their loyalties.
50 MP for getting your Pokemon knocked out in your skirmish thread.
25 MP for completing your Skirmish thread.
150 MP for "losing" or having a "negative" outcome for your character and their Skirmish thread.
150 MP for having Rocket and League characters and faction-based conflict in the thread (no NPCs).
—--------------------------
475 MP

Diana Cavendish

☉

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[attr="class","bisc"]“Oh come on!” The brunette pushed up against the lady, but it wasn’t like he was buff or anything. Sure, he exercised and walked, but there was no six pack lurking beneath the fake uniform. Though he felt his hand twist, there’s no yelp of pain or shock. He also doesn’t seem bothered by the bruised face or knee digging into his back. “I already said I was sorry!”


Maybe there was a reason for this war.

A three-pronged claw slammed down in front of his face. The Walking Wake’s claws look like the tusk of some primeval beast. Which is kind of fitting when he thinks about it. It’s hard to miss the thing’s muscles this close. It was probably way stronger than anything he had on his team. And, compared to his Dunsparce, it’s totally night and day. He swallows. “Aren’t you worried about…collateral damage?” That last attack could have scalded her too. “This thing’s not really holding back.”

His Dunsparce rises to its full height, clumsily balanced on the tiny tip of its tail. This display is some weird, half-assed attempt at intimidation. All it does is give the Breaking Swipe a broader target. With a thump, the normal type falls back into the dirt. It thrashes for a moment before finally righting itself. It’s at this point that Scotti makes a noise of alarm. That attack could have really hurt him!

Sure, the the dragon was scary, but he had to do something. It seems going belly-up wasn’t doing the trick. He somehow doubted playing dead would either. “Ice—Ice spinner!” As the Dunsparce attacks, Biscotti throws himself up with all his weight aiming to throw off his attacker.

50 MP showcase your own character's strength(s) meaningfully.
50 MP showcase your own character's weakness(es) meaningfully.
50 MP have your character directly or indirectly spotlight another writer's character's strengths.
50 MP have your character reflect on why they're fighting/reflect on their loyalties.

Diana Cavendish

☉

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[attr="class","bisc"]The Hawlucha effortlessly avoids the initial Shadow Sneak. He barely seems to move as the sword slices through the empty air where he once stood. But the flying type’s burst of confidence is short-lived. His eyes widened as the order’s repeated. The air in front of him rippled as the Aegislash attacked again. The bird squawks as he’s knocked off his feet. The darkness-wreathed blade leaves its mark. As the bird pushes itself up, pink already stains his breast feathers.

Kapow shakes off the pain as he staggers forward. White claws flex as his muscles tighten like whipcords. But he hesitates. It’s kind of dangerous to punch a sword. Then, its ghoulish characteristics pose another issue. Hoping his speed takes it by surprise, the Hawlucha goes for an Aerial Ace. His sharp front claws aim to scratch the only fleshy part: its eye. This movement is desperate. That Shadow Sneak had left a mark.

The Pokemon battle is a sharp contrast to the human interaction. Biscotti seems more relaxed. Just like he saw in Galar, Rockets weren’t all heartless. And this fight was way messier and complicated then the papers made it out to be. “Yeah?” He goes so far as to offer up a cheeky grin. “I guess that means we should skedaddle.” His labrador eyes scan the landscape in front of them. All he sees is rubble cast across a No Man’s Land. Unless his sister is hiding in the sewer, he doubts she’s out there.

“Hey, uhM...miss.” A hand listed to his chest. “Thank you.” He feels like that’s not enough.

This kind of thing was a big risk fr a Rocket. He’s heard the stories of defectors. Digging into his pocket, he pulls out a sweaty little business card. On the front is a coupon for a free doughnut. “Uh, here. I’d pay you but—” His cheeks turn red. “This is all I have.” Maybe he could throw them at another Rocket if he got in trouble. As he makes the exchange, there’s a nearby shout. It seems the scuffle has been discovered.

He grapples for his beleaguered bird's Pokeball. He winces as he looks at the blood dripping down his front.

“Come on, Kapow!” The Hawlucha vanishes in a burst of red light as Biscotti takes off toward the shadows of Petalburg Woods.


50 MP showcase a meaningful moment between your character and their Pokemon.
50 MP showcase your own character's weakness(es) meaningfully.
50 MP showcase a meaningful moment between your character and their Pokemon.
50 MP showcase your own character's weakness(es) meaningfully.
25 MP for knocking out another Pokemon in your skirmish thread.
50 MP have your character learn to respect another character in some way.
50 MP have your character reflect on why they're fighting/reflect on their loyalties.
50 MP have your character recall a past thread or event that they have participated in or not (link the thread).
50 MP include a motif or recurring symbol of some kind in your thread.
25 MP for completing your Skirmish thread.
150 MP for faction conflict
100 MP for "tying" or having a "neutral" outcome for your character and their Skirmish thread.

TOTAL: 700

MAKI YUKIMURA

☉

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[attr="class","bisc"]“The worst of its behind us?” He parrots back with a grateful sigh. Puppy dog eyes turn to look back down the trail. For a moment, there’s a plunge of vertigo. “It really is—was long, huh?” He then reaches out to gently stroke the head of the cat beneath him. Sure, he was pretty sure his thighs would be damaged, but it’d been a smooth ride. Well, not smooth, but the cat hadn’t tossed him off or anything.

At the talk of flying Pokemon, Scotti smiled. He isn’t sure if that’d be much better. Him and heights weren’t exactly BFFs. Not that he’d ever admit to being scared. “It’s kinda spilled milk at this point, right?” Sure, he wasn’t strong or the sharpest tool in the shed. But he was pretty go with the flow. Like the whole medieval time warp? He’d adapted to that pretty well. And he would see this ride through. He was pretty sure the lack of pain helped.

I thought the worse of this was behind us? Biscotti reflexively tightens his legs as the slope intensifies. He scans the ground in front of him, as if weak human eyes might spot something the cat missed. “I—uh—I haven’t seen either. Or, well, yours. Kind of hard to miss this place.” He can’t help but wonder if they’re welcome in a place like this. He half expects a ballista or a catapult to fire at them.

He nods along with Shalin. Then, finally, he imparts wisdom. “Must be hell getting a pizza.”

Shalin Nariya

☉

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[attr="class","bisc"]If she’d asked, Scotit would have been happy to explain Bubbe. The fact that he’d gotten abducted by her when he was four and wandering outside. Maybe explained how she helped him feel pain to keep him safe. Probably even whispered that he thought she was some mobster in a past life. Heck, he’d tell her his most embarrassing memories if it meant not having to fight a pretty lady. But, instead, the baker’s just given a ringside seat to a battle he has zero control over.
[break][break]
“Psychic!?” Biscotti’s next words are a panicked croak. Sure, the weird type triangles always confused him, but he knew this one was bad news. “Bubbe—!” The ghost turns to her charge with a dark little chuckle. The old ghost makes no move to defend herself. She glows a sickening violet as she tosses one type of vengeance for another. With a clatter, the stones fall limp to the ground.
[break][break]


But they’d sought to bind the accursed calamari to them as they fell—a Destiny Bond.
[break][break]


“Yikes—she’s kind of—” Scotti returns her with a fumble. He almost drops the Pokeball as he does so. “Sorry.” This girl scared him.
[break][break]


Her question makes him blink. His hands slide over to another Pokeball. Biscotti swallows. “I’m—uh—my sister’s in here. There.” He points to the recently acquired Petalburg.

MAKI YUKIMURA

☉

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[attr="class","bisc"]For a second, he seemed more concerned about wasted food than his own safety. The pizza crashed to the ground in an undignified heap. Some excess tomato sauce streaked across the grass. It hit him that maybe he shouldn’t have wasted what money he had on an actual pizza. Then, there’s a lady on his back and his face is pressed into the dirt. In his fall, the kid’s phone goes flying.

There’s no pained scream as his arm is wrenched backward. He doesn’t even seem to notice the blood pouring down his face from his making out with the rocky ground. “I—uh—I can’t.” Right now, he wasn’t really able to stand down, up, or sideways. “You’re kind of heavy.” These words are muffled by the dirt in beneath him. A fact only partially corrected by the turning of his head. Then, there’s a look of sheer mortification.

It’s not at the Walking Wake but at what he just said. “I don’t mean you’re—sorry--it’s not that—” It’s only then that he notices the charging dino-cat. He swears quietly beneath his breath. He manages to swipe a Pokeball at his belt. What exactly it is he can’t tell. Pokeball organization wasn’t something he did. The things just got clipped on in whatever order made sense at the time.

A hot pink Dunsparce rolls out. It’s next move isn’t strategic. "Duuuuun?” Chugga doesn’t have a strategic bone (do these guys have bones?) in his body. Its tail snakes up just as the Walking Wake reaches them. Its Poison Jab aims to send it reeling backward.

25 MP for image

Diana Cavendish

☉

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[attr="class","bisc"]Biscotti had been trying to rescue his sister long before that text arrived. Not because he knew where Nilla was but because he suspected. His sister was a good person—way better than him—and the timing of her disappearance was no coincidence. Sure, she could have been lost in Sootopolis, but that seemed risky even for her.

The past day had been a series of failures. Some Rocket psycho had pinned him to the ground and almost ripped his shoulder out of socket. Then, some woman with a bear offered to carry him out kitten style. Which somehow led to the impression that his ghost nurse was actually his grandma (which she wasn’t). Poor Jangle’s fight with a Hisuian Zoroark had left his most stalwart ally in a world of hurt

“In 1000 feet, turn right…” The detached GPS murmured. It’s quaint, lightly accented voice reminded him of home.

But he didn’t give up on finding his sister. Instead, he’d hunkered down in a quiet part of the woods waiting for a sigh. It came in the form of a ping and a distress call. Ignoring his injuries, the baker raced toward the edge of the city. As he neared a barrier, he tossed out his Zeraora. Stumbling to keep up, he grabbed its outstretched paw. “Just—just blast through!” As they neared a barricade, the electric type did as it was told.

Though the shock from its rush made his hair stand on end and his muscles spasm, Scotti didn’t feel the pain that’d come with it. Nor did he notice as the barbed wire opened a long scratch on the bottom of his leg. This haphazard strategy left the Rockets gaping.

“Keep—I’m all right pal. Keep going.” His hands tightened around the cat’s paw as they dashed toward the camp. He arrived just in time to see Thomas zip by on a strange antelope-deer thing.

But there wasn’t any time to think about that. There was a guard at his face and a world of )figurative) pain incoming. “You’ve arrived.” Not exactly the heroic pronouncement he was after, but it’d work.

“Hit them with everything you got!” The cat charged forward with a series of Plasma fists and a cocky grin. This faded as the electricity from its paws vanished. “Uh? What just—?” A Sceptile lit up like a Christmas tree, its skin blazing with electricity.

“Shit.” Then to no one in particular, he apologized, “Sorry.”


A Bullet Seed sent the mythical cat sliding back with a hiss of pain.

Thomas Benoit Vanilla Kingsley

☉

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[attr="class","bisc"]
The brunette’s control of his Pokemon was tenuous at best. Partially because he wasn’t into controlling people and partly because forcefulness was the antithesis of who he is. So, when Himiko made her offer, all he could do is stare beseechingly. The expression made the labrador pup comparisons stunningly apt. For a moment, he tries to make words come out. But all he manages is a single unintelligible space filler, “Uhhhh….”

Then, he was scampering for the ‘safety’ of the nearby woods. But, suddenly, those few hundred yards seemed like a football field (and he’d never been too athletic). The wind carried Himiko’s orders to him. And, last he looked, being poisoned wasn’t near the top of his to-do list. “Come on, Scotti! Faster!” Too scared to look behind him, the teen’s imagination conjured up some beast behind him. He was sure it was a Drapion crawling toward him on its countless legs.

The trainer sounded like she was following too. Fighting back didn’t even cross his mind. He could count! The fact that he had five other Pokemon with him was forgotten.

Jangle’s attack leaves a mark on their hideaway. Once cheery cottage wood is scorched a deep black. As the cat turns to follow Scotti, a sharp pain erupts across her back.Fur and skin part to reveal bloody muscle beneath. JJ almost collapses to one knee from the impact. A pained roar erupts as the fire cat whirls to face her attacker. But that Blast Burn makes the Drain Punch that follows sluggish.

“JJ!” Biscotti shouts in alarm as his friend tanks a hit. Since he struggles to eat and chew gum at the same time, this makes his headlong rush slow to a crawl. And, in that pause, the other two are on him. In desperation, he grabs and flicks out a random ball from his belt. A Zeraora bursts from it. Luckily, it’s not as slow on the uptake as its panicking trainer.

Its Quick Attack aims to buy the dope behind it some breathing room.

Yamaguchi Himiko

☉

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[attr="class","bisc"]He wasn’t good at reading people. His foot spent almost all of its time in his mouth at this point. But he’d have to be illiterate not to see Maki’s confusion. Some part of him wants to apologize. But it’s kind of hard to form words when a ghost’s hijacking your brain.And, by the time Bubbe emerged, there were all the chills and stuff to fight with.

The savagery with which the Runerigus attacks startles Biscotti. His eyes widen to the size of dinner plates. “Whoa!” A noise of surprise bursts out his lips. His hands rose in a sign for peace. “I—uh—I’ve never seen her go that hard before. I’m—” Before that apology emerges, a cold chunk of stone presses itself against his lips. The central rock turns, the scraping sounds the ghost’s attempt at a shushing.

Biscotti flushes with indignation. But his stammering withers in his throat. A happy little titter emerges from the ghoul. Then, the Malamar appears. The upside down squid sets off alarm bells. One of his brothers had one of these things. “Be careful, Bubbe. That thing’s a—” He’s again silenced by a wave of a rocky tendril. The ghost’s eyes glitter with something malicious as the Malamar strikes. Biscotti’s eyes screw tightly shut as shadows meet rock.

He didn’t think Bubbe was prepared for a fight like this. She was a nurse. Sure, she was a little weird, but he’d never seen her throw down before.

The tentacles send the stones crunching together. Long arms slide backward as the Runerigus hisses in pain. But then it laughs. A shiver runs down the baker’s spine as the ghost type’s body flashes a wicked green. A strange, distorted shadow stretches toward the Malamar.

Cracks spread across its surface as it lays a Curse on the squid in front of it. Hell hath no fury like a…undead grandma?...scorned?

25 MP for knocking out another Pokemon in your skirmish thread.
50 MP have your character self-doubt or cast doubt on another's confidence/allegiances/beliefs, etc.

MAKI YUKIMURA

☉