The unfortunate thing about being out of action is, whenever people ask you to do stupid shit, you can’t just make up an excuse to get out of it. When you spend sixteen hours a day lying in a hospital bed, there’s only so many lies you can tell before people get wise to your tricks and stop taking no for an answer. Case and point...

You look at the Calyrex. The Calyrex looks at you. You glance over to your Doublade. Your Doublade gives you the no-hands no-arms no-shoulders version of a shrug. You look back at Calyrex. Calyrex is still looking at you.

You don’t know what the hell this thing is, but it’s pissing you off for real. Apparently, others are claiming that it’s the King of Bountiful Harvest from Galarian folklore? Arceus wept. It’s bad enough that your peers fervently believe in every fraud god and hoax deity from Orre to Alola, but now they’re putting stock in fairytales, too. This is so very, very dire. There’s no other word for it. It’s simply dire.

"Rownowo?"

"It wants a story, sire."

"Yeah, I fuckin’ know, alright?!" You snap at Doublade, before reigning your temper back in. "Just give me a minute. I need to think of something..."

Truth and ideals, ice and fire… Ugh. Of course it had to ask for this shit. You've got plenty of stories to tell, but none that fit the prompt. But, it's fine. You might’ve flunked your English class, but it wasn’t because of your creative writing. You'll just have to improvise a little.

"Once upon a time, there was a king. He was an asshole who nobody liked because he thought being born into nobility made him better than everyone else. One day, the king said some stupid shit, and everyone got sick of him. So they burned his castle down with fire and stoned him to death. The truth was that everyone's life was better without him around, and the ideal is that it's ideal to not have a royal family in your country, and the ice... Well, you figure that one out, bud. There. Story over."

Calyrex seems none too impressed with your story, but frankly, you don't care. As you walk away, you breathe a tired sigh. What an awful little distraction they've saddled you with. You're certainly not looking forward to doing this again. Oh well, back to bed...

...

"Carown."

"Terribly sorry about that, thou majesty. Our lead actor has been rather irritable since getting immolated."

"Rown?"

"Yes, it was quite the show! The hero bathed in godless flame, fighting for the truth of one who devoured truth itself, a desperate battle of clashing ideals upon the icy wasts... Oho, I could tell thou the tale of it, if thou wish?"

"Carownownrown!"

"Very well! Thou see, our curtains rise in a land most familiar to you, within the unassuming town of Spikemuth, where--"

"Cro?"

"Hm? Yes, this is the BEGINNING beginning. What, did you want me to start in media res? Hah! No no no, I'm not some Kalosian hack, thou majesty. I offer only the finest chronicles to the most discerning audiences! If we must follow the heroes' journey, then we must go through all three acts in proper order."

"...Crorown."

"I'm most glad that thou agree! Now, where were we... It is within Spikemuth, a mundane town of nobody and nothing, that the protagonist of this tale, ████ ███████, is born..."

...Fuck, you forgot to call back Doublade before you left. Oh well. She's a smart girl, she'll make her way back to you eventually... Girl? Girls? Swords.

---

Truth and ideals, fire and ice.

And just like that, you're now the owner of the world's most annoying Woobat. Hurray.

At the very least, its proof that your injuries haven't completely crippled you. Sure, your arm is a little stiff and your throw could've been better, but you still caught the thing, didn't you? Granted, that's not exactly a high bar to clear, but you still cleared it, and for now, that's what matters.

...Arceus, it is INCREDIBLY DIFFICULT to be positive right now. No point even trying, really. Best to just move on and keep your attention on the Pokemon, like that Rookidee over there.

It's a similar story to last time - Belt, ball, and throw.

---

Catching Rookidee YIPPEE
WARDEN SAFARI, Spawn 2/6, next is Alolomola
2/4 Safari Balls remaining.

Ow... Ow... Ow...

As you lay there, staring up at the shining ceiling of Tera Crystals forming above you, you curse under your breath. Fucking hell. Nothing can ever be simple, can it? Doesn't matter if its easy things or hard things, they all have to be complex. Tch. Well, you suppose it could be worse. Sure, your body might hurt like shit, but at the very least, you're not dead.

Not yet, anyway. But if you want to keep not being dead, then you'll probably need to get out of here sooner rather than later. Oxygen deprivation and hypothermia and all that. But how to do that? Your first instict is to dig, which might work, if you weren't on Mount Chimney. Yeah, no, even an idiot like you knows that a volcano isn't the place to be tunnelling all willy-nilly. Not unless you want to get incinerated by lava, anyway.

...Oh, Xenon's awake, too. Well, it's technically her fault that you're in this mess, so maybe she'll have some ideas to get you out of it.

"We're in a cave." You groan in reply, not even bothering to look at her as you speak. "We're trapped, too. Even if we wanted to climb out, the hole's sealed up by those crystals. No other paths in or out, either, so... Yeah. We're fucked."

Unless...?

---

Xenon Antheil

By the time you make any headway, it's already getting dark. Sirens are sounding to call back most of the ordinary daygoers, the cadets and the grunts, the citizens and the civillians. Fortunately, your Warden Safari ticket affords you many luxuries, and these "extended opening hours" are no exception. You have time.

Too much of it. In fact, time's all you seem to have right now.

"WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"

...Alright, put a pin in that self-loathing - What the fuck is making that noise?

You pull your sunglasses down a few inches are you look up to the canopy, and what you see is certainly something. A bright green Woobat, hooping and hollering as hard as it can as it blindly flutters about. Hm. Well, you don't really want it, but if you don't catch it, it'll still be screaming for the rest of the trip, so...

With some exertion, you pull an empty Safari Ball from your belt and toss it at the bat.

---

CATCHING WOOBAT.
Warden Safari, Spawn 1/6, next is ROOKIDEE.
3/4 Safari balls remaining.

BOUQUETS:

Send a special someone a bouquet delivered by Leavanny, signed or anonymous!

[break][break]
ORDER DETAILS: A bouquet of red, purple and white roses, roughly arranged as though they were trying to form a shape, though what that exact shape was supposed to be is unclear.[break][break] TO: Lulu Flint [break][break] CARD: The attached card is littered with what appear to be half-finished "romantic" poems, each one worse then the last, and each one scribbled out with increasing frustration. After about a dozen failed attempts and with increasingly limited space to work with, a small "luv u" is written in the bottom. The card is unsigned.[break][break]

ORDER DETAILS: A single Amaryllis Belladonna, picked for its aesthetic charms and no other reason.[break][break] TO: Yumi Hasegawa [break][break] CARD: "Cool jugs." - Unsigned, obviously.[break][break]

PERFUMES:

Send a special someone a custom floral perfume delivered by Florges, signed or anonymous!

[break][break]
ORDER DETAILS: A bottle of "Sunscorched Leather and Burnished Gunsteel" perfume. For women.[break][break] TO: Navy [break][break] CARD: "Apparently you have a girlfriend? I guess that makes sense since you're all rugged and nice and shit but still. Didn't know that. Anyway do with this what you will idk." - No signature, but there is a xoxo[break][break]

TEAS & DESSERTS:

Send a special someone a bespoke box of sweets delivered by Stufful, signed or anonymous!

[break][break]
ORDER DETAILS: Extra dark double strength coffee.[break][break] TO: Kouji Matsubara [break][break] CARD: "Sorry about all the overtime. It will happen again." - Shred[break][break]

ORDER DETAILS: The face piece of a William the Wurmple chocolate cake.[break][break] TO: Eris Halla [break][break] CARD: The card is blank, though slightly crumpled, as though many efforts were made to try and write a satisfactory message, even if none of them succeeded.[break][break]

ORDER DETAILS: The body of a William the Wurmple chocolate cake.[break][break] TO: Grigori Sokolov [break][break] CARD: "Sorry I almost died" - Shred.[break][break]

???:

Send a special someone custom "presents" delivered by Meltan(?), signed or anonymous!

[break][break]
ORDER DETAILS: A paperclip, screw, ball bearing or similar knick-knack. [break][break] TO: The Pokemon of Melody Miro Ashley Shepard ollie morales howard slayte DESIREE BLOOMS Hideo Kino Josh Devlin illeana reyes CIAN MAHER [break][break] CARD: "hello rivals (´• ω •`)ﾉ thank you the the vct matches. here's a special treat from me to you (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ have a lovely palentines day!" - Meltan (Transcribed by Shred, but hey, who's counting?)[break][break]

ORDER DETAILS: Hastily sketched plans for... something. With all the messy linework and dodgy handwriting, it's hard to say exactly what. Even then, it only takes one look to know it'll be horrendously expensive to make and highly unlikely to work. [break][break] TO: Xenon Antheil [break][break] CARD: "Calling in a solid. Need help with a top secret project. Wear something hot and bring all your techy scifi stuff down to the medbay ASAP." - Shred[break][break]


ORDER DETAILS: An unassuming Pokeball containing a Stonjourner [break][break] TO: howard slayte [break][break] CARD: "Keep forgetting to give this to you, but hey, better late than too late." - Shred[break][break]

ORDER DETAILS: Ash. [break][break] TO: illeana reyes [break][break] CARD: There is no card.[break][break]

It is really difficult to overstate how badly you don't want to die here. Not that you have a list or anything, but if you did, then "In a Bathroom (Not Sexy)" would definitely be high up there. At least you aren't naked? Not that it's much of a condolence, mind, but--

"OUCH! Why, you...!"

No. NO! You WON'T die here. Even if your brain turns to mulch within your skull and your lungs fill with so much poison you can't breathe, you'll find a way to survive. No matter what, you'll find it within yourself to stand tall, overcome this snail, and march out of here so you can find somewhere nicer to die. Preferably, somewhere in front of a lot of people, with dramatic lighting, and no Gholdengo within a hundred feet.

"Shoot the bleach... Shoot the bleach... Shoot the bleach..."

As the taste of iron begins to fill your mouth, you repeat Howard's order over and over, aiming your revolver towards the bottle of bleach. Even as your vision begins to blur and your hands begin to shake, you keep the sights directly where they need to be. Then, summoning what little energy you can spare, you pull the trigger.

CLICK.

...What?

CLICK. CLICK. CLICK CLICK CLICK.

Out of ammo...? Right now...? At a time like this...?! Well. Seems like it's all over now. You're done. Brain... starting to go. Body... shutting down. Goodbye, oh so cruel world...

"I won't let you get away with this, y'hear me? I'll make you pay hand over fist for what you've done!"

And then, like a guardian angel carved of gold, with wings of a hundred dollar bills, Chester C. Coins Made It Rain. Gimmighoul coins fired all across the public baths, bouncing off tiles wherever they landed, only to hit more tiles and bounce again. With so many smooth surfaces to ricochet off, the attack's power was highly amplified, boosted to the level of an ATTEMPTED MURDER ROULETTE, though alas, not much higher than that. Still, it was a destructive attack, hitting any in its path, Gholdengo or Wo-Chien, friend or foe.

And with such a volume of projectiles pinging about, one of them just happened to be flying towards the bottle of Bleach at high speed...

---

howard slayte Grigori Sokolov Elisabeth Fiorelli

You give the two a look.

It's the look of a fervent activist that's been told the politician he's rallied against has been elected to their third term. It's the look of a child that's been told they have to turn off their game console and go to bed. It's the look of Shirley when she's not allowed to sleep on the couch, or Sugar when she doesn't get her bowl of cream. It's the look of an innocent man being told by the judge he's guilty, despite all evidence pointing to the contrary.

How easy it must be, to pretend that all change is impossible. How easy it must be, to act like the status quo is a wall too high to climb and too wide to walk around. How easy it must be, to act like knowing the lie and choosing to believe it somehow makes you better than others that neither know nor follow.

Then again, what did you expect from Howard and Grigori? Two people who'll never see the world like you do. One man who might as well be drifting through the turbulent ocean on a ship without sails, and the other...

You're not better than me, Howard. You're not more human than me. Thinking that makes you less human than all the rest. CUNT.

The words rest on your tongue for a moment, ready to be said. And yet, they never are.

"...Whatever. See you later."

You simply shake your head, turn around, and begin to walk away. You didn't know what you were expecting. Nothing, really, but well... Seems like even that was aiming too high. Tch.

Oh well.

---

howard slayte Grigori Sokolov

It's been some time since you're last been here, in the Safari Zone. Back then, you had been excited to vasten your horizons, to catch new Pokemon and improve your team. Now? You're here because the doctors told you to spend time outside. They say it'll help your body to adjust to its new circumstances, that it'll help your mental health. Frankly, you're skeptical, but you suppose you can't knock it until you've actually tried it.

It's absurd. Go outside? You're covered in head to toe with bandages, and they expect you to loiter about like there's nothing wrong with you? Ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous.

So, you're here at the Safari Zone, as "outside" as you can be while still being within civilisation, as "private" as you can get in the open air. If you're going to have to kill an hour, then it might as well be here. Who knows? If you're lucky, you might end up catching something half-decent.

Not that you can consider yourself particularly lucky right now, but nevertheless...

---

Warden Safari, Spawn 0/6, next is WOOBAT.
4/4 Safari balls remaining.

Taking Duraludon, invoking EXCITING GACHA RULE to make it an Archduraludon.

PURCHASING/REDEEMING

welcome to the poké mart!

1X 250 PD (-250 PD)
3X Grepa Berries (6 PD)
1X Warden Ticket (150 PD)
1X Premium Gacha - Dragon from VCT (0 PD)
Using ROOT OF PUGNUS from VCT on Meltan
Giving Meltan TERA ELECTRIC from VCT Tera Shard

GACHA HERE: pkmn-hoenn.boards.net/thread/35215/shreds-gacha?page=2

HARVESTING

be sure to visit the pretty petal flower shop near rustboro!

3X Salac Berries

TOTAL

do come again!

-94 PD(???)

It's been one week. One week since Kyurem White and Hoopa Unbound made their dramatic appearance. One week since the emergence of the Paradox Swords of Justice. One week since Palkia chose Illeana Reyes as their avatar. One week since the formation of "Area Zero" within Hoenn. One week since Shred Zeppelin lived, died, and lived again.

And one second since you’ve woken up.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The first thing you hear are the cold, clinical sounds of medical equipment. The electronic beating of your heart. The mechanical breathing of your lungs. Blood being pushed through your veins and breath down your throat. You did not survive through your own strength. You carried this burden not with your own two hands, but through the combined efforts of men, machines, and Pokemon, all working tirelessly to keep your broken body alive.

And Arceus, is it ever broken. Two square metres of skin covered in burns of varying degrees. One arm completely destroyed beyond repair. Too many fractured and broken bones to count. And yet, despite all of that, your nerves somehow came out the other side intact.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA--"

You've only been awake for seven seconds, and you're already in sheer, unrelenting agony.

---

howard slayte [googlefont=Rubik Burned]

Taking with howard slayte