Look at you: Wandering through the desert, under the burning sun and amidst the drifting sand, covered in bandages from head to toe... If anyone makes that joke right now, you're gonna punch them in the mouth.

Lucky for you and him alike, howard slayte is too busy digging through the dirt to pluck the low hanging fruit, so your temper remains cool and his teeth remain in his gums. Still, though, dragging you all the way out here to indulge his ruin fetish... What a pain in the ass. Doesn't he have better things to do with his time? Because you sure as hell do.

Idly, you glance left, towards Grigori Sokolov and walter delmar. Then, you glance to the right, where your Drednaw marches dutifully alongside you. Some might say that three pack mules is too many. You? Could do with another seven or nine of them. And maybe some kind of fancy carriage to pull you along, too. With a small sigh and a shake of your head, you look forward once more.

There's so much fucking sand under your bandages right now it's unreal.

"What the fuck are we even looking for, anyway? And why was it so important that I had to cancel my surgery for it?"

---

howard slayte Grigori Sokolov walter delmar

PURCHASING/REDEEMING

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TOTAL

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0 PD

Two Meltan?

Holy shit.

As you struggle to restrain your sheer joy at the sight of two of your favorite creature, they're quickly joined by a third. Out from your jacket pocket emerges yet another, your own Meltan, who similarly shares your delight, though with none of the restraint. With a hop, a skip, and a jump, the nut plops down on the desk, and rushes to meet his kindred.

"hello new friends (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ my name is meltan and im on a quest to become the strongest meltan! its lovely to meet you (￣ω￣) how are things back in meltan village?"

This is beautiful. You could watch this for hours.

Alas.

"Huh?" You're snapped out of your euphoria and brought back to reality by Nomi's question. Take off your shirt? "Sure, alright..."

And so, you begin the frankly awful process of undressing with one arm. Luckily, it doesn't take long for you to shed your jacket, but your shirt? That's a struggle. You've halfway-squirmed the garment off your body before a crtiically important thought comes to mind:

"...This, uh, isn't going to make your girlfriend mad, is it?"

---

Naomi Sato

Calling this an "opportunity" was generous. Was it an opportunity when you ran into an old ""friend"" who wouldn't stop yapping? No, it wasn't. It was annoying. Doubly so, as she dragged the conversation on and on, and the seconds turned into minutes, and all the while you got closer and closer to waking up.

But, there's no helping it, is there? It's like trying to pull a leech off your skin. The harder you try to be rid of her, the harder she'll try to stick to you. So, with no better options, it seems you'll just have to let her drain you for a bit before you go your separate ways.

That doesn't stop you from letting out a very loud and obviously annoyed sigh first, though.

"Yeah, sure, okay." You deadpan, meeting her hand with the least enthused shake of all time. "My name is Jeff Leppard, Weakling Ward. I wish it were a pleasure, but it really isn't."

Because of terrible circumstances you find yourselves in, and definitely no other reason.

"Alright, then, enlighten me: What's the plan?"

---

Andrea Vaneau

"Hit it" was a little dramatic. It implied something about this experiment was thrilling, when, in fact, it was extremely boring.

First, a few minutes of clicking and typing. Pulling up Pokepedia, finding a few good pages on stuff like "Maths" and "Science", all that fact based shit. Then, you throw in a few good-looking random pages, like "Buizel" and "Paniola Town". Then, as the cherry on top, you throw in the pages on "Truth" and "Reshiram", as vague and nebulous as they might be. Better to play it safe, right?

After that, you need to figure out how to inject this data into the White Stone. That? Is easier said than done. You think about trying to write a program to do it for about two seconds, before you remember that you have no coding knowledge whatsoever. Eventually, you just settle for just playing audio files of the pages directly through the wires and into the White Stone. Is it a good solution? Fuck no. Nothing about this is even remotely good, and it barely counts as a solution, either. Fuck it, though: You ball.

Finally, you "hit it". And even with a Porygon-Z and a Rotom helping out, that also takes a long time, meaning it's also extremely boring.

Seconds pass.

Then, another minute passes.

Then another, then another. You glance down at the progress bar as it inches along, barely even 20% done. Arceus wept.

The fourth minute passes.

"...So, uh... Seen any good movies lately?"

---

howard slayte

Well, break's over.

As Calliope makes her way into her room, and as her Tangrowth emerges shortly thereafter, you breathe a sigh as you rise to your feet. You'd been hoping you could've waited a little longer. Oh well, nothing for it, is there? At the end of the day, it would always come down to this. You knew that the moment you agreed to be here.

So why? Why don't you want to fight? You've never shied away from violence before, so why can't you seem to get excited? This is a battle of life or death, so why does your heart beat so slowly?

With a slight shake of your head, you grab a Pokeball of your own and send out your Golisopod, who immediatelty starts posturing on your behalf.

"Hey, FUCKER!" The bug shouts, scraping its claws against one another as it stares down the tangled growth. "Get your ASS the FUCK out of here, before I cut YOU, and your BITCH of a trainer, TO PIECES!"

You, meanwhile, are far more muted.

"Let's get this over with, yeah?"

---

Calliope Marks

It's a fairly uneventful day. Most are spending their time recovering from the havoc left in the wake of the Toxic Chain incident only days prior. Some take the time to recover from their wounds, both physically and mentally. Others try desperately to catch up on the work that piled up in their two days of absence. And a lucky few, the priam conrad's and the Lulu Flint's, find themselves given the chance to ascend in the aftermath.

In the end, though, everyone will move on. Everyone will see tomorrow, and tomorrow, and a hundred tomorrows more. Everybody except one. One whose wounds will never heal. One who will never return to their station. One whose chance was forever taken away from them.

General Velmos.

You'll admit, it's your first time planning a funeral for an alien. Hell, its your first time planning a funeral, period. Still, if you didn't do it, then who would?

The ceremony isn't much. Being a Rocket Beast, for all its perks, doesn't leave you with much spending money, especially for "frivolties" like this. Still, you manage. Cotillard fills you in on everything you need to know. The other Megalopolans pitch in, too, with some of the... More specific details. That means all you need to do is rope in a few grunts, and before you know it...

You're here. Standing in the back of a modestly sized funeral parlor. Velmos lays upon an altar, dressed in a shroud of pure white. The lights are bright. Blindingly so. Still, you keep your eyes wide open.

You glance over to the door, watching as Megalopolan after Megalopolan filters in. Will anyone of your "peers" even bother showing up?

You suppose you'll find out soon enough.

---

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nada PD

...Extreme Speed?

You blink.

"That was an Aqua Jet." You state the fact. Seriously, what the hell? Was this guy dropped on his head? Do they really just let ANYONE be a gym leader these days? "Are you fucking stupid?"

But despite your remarks, his "Extreme Speed" beats out your Aqua Jet. In a battle of speed, a little more makes the difference, and in the ends, the difference in Protosynthesis wins Josh Devlin the clash. Your Walking Wake staggers back, its brain bounced around its skull, while his makes it out fairly unscathed.

But just because he won the clash, that doesn't mean he'll win the battle.

"Fine. You want 'Faster'? I'll show you faster."

With two quick taps, you recall your Walking Wake and send forth your Raging Bolt. See, isn't this better? Your Electric-type against his Water-type. While you might've been even in the mirror match, you've firmly got the advantage now.

And it's time to press it.

"DRAGON HAMMER!"

With a screech, the towering beast swings its neck around like a morningstar, before smashing its head down towards Josh's Walking Wake.

---

Josh Devlin

The wait starts off excruciatingly long and excruciatingly boring. Laying in your hospital bed, waiting and waiting, with nothing to do but recover, plan, and eat your modest soups. But after the first week passes? It isn't so bad. You're discharged in all but name, which is good, because there's plenty for you to be doing.

Finally, out of the infirmary!

And then, one month later? You find yourself back in the infirmary. Yeah. What can you say? Area Zero was a place full of highs and lows, with an emphasis on the lows. Oh well. At least it wasn't as bad as last time.

And not long after that, you find yourself back where this little venture began - Walking down to the labs to get yourself a new arm.

When you arrive, you immediately clock Oscar and his pristine cybernetic. From the way he's dressed, part of you wonders if he's going to try and sell this to you. You'll admit, you didn't consider that possibility, but... Fuck it. If he wants a payday, you'll just get Chester to work his pure money magic. Or, more likely, you'll get howard slayte to cut him a cheque. You think these kinds of fancy robotics are too expensive to be bought with Gimmighoul coins.

"Well, it sure looks nice, but I can't judge it yet, can I? Not until I take it for a test drive." You reply, pulling off your coat and sliding down your shirt to reveal what little remains of your arm. "Hook me up, Oscar."

---

oscar clayton

"It probably won't, but hey, gotta try."

Reaching to your belt, you pull out a Pokeball of your own, tossing it up to release your Porygon-Z. It's not your typical choice of Pokemon, you'll admit, but it's real handy to have around. Shiny, too! Not that Howard would care, but you're sure that some of the scientists loitering about here are so jealous of you--

"my COCK grew two inches in one week! You'll never disappoint again!! Buy PENIS ENHANCEMENT PILLS now!!!"

...Sometimes, you're extremely glad that you're the only one that can hear the ramblings of your Pokemon.

Still, ignoring the spiel of dodgy sales pitches, you walk over to one of the consoles surrounding the Light Stone, shooing away a bored-looking researcher who was playing Spinarak Solitaire. Then, with a shrill exclamation about single mothers in your area, the Porygon-Z floats down and wriggles inside the screen. Then, you gesture towards a few loose sensor wires coming out from said console.

"Get your Rotom in here and hook this shit up. I'll go find some good pages to get us started."

---

howard slayte