PURCHASING/REDEEMING

welcome to the poké mart!

1X Type 2 Evolution - Litwick to Lampent (25PD due to seasonal discount)
1X Type 3 Evolution - Lampent to Chandelure (25PD due to seasonal discount)
1X Type 1 Evolution - Yamask to Cofagrigus (50PD due to seasonal discount)

TOTAL

do come again!

100PD

All the following choices are for Shred Zeppelin.

ASPEAR BERRY
>Araquanid learns Liquidation!

ASPEAR BERRY
>Gligar learns Acrobatics!

LEPPA BERRY
>Litwick learns Energy Ball (Replacing Inferno)!

SITRUS BERRY
>Toxtricity learns Power-Up Punch!

MAGOST BERRY
>Cacturne learns Needle Arm (RIP to a real one) and Foul Play!

ORAN BERRY
>Zubat evolves into Crobat!

CHESTO BERRY
>Gilgar evolves into Gliscor!

PECHA BERRY
>Goodra becomes H!Goodra!

PECHA BERRY
>Zoroark becomes H!Zoroark!

PECHA BERRY
>Decidueye becomes H!Decidueye!

PERSIM BERRY
>Grimmsnarl's ability changes to Prankster!

TEACHER'S APPLE
>Litwick becomes Shiny!

DARK SHIV POWDER
>Toxtricity gets a Seventh Move Slot!

At first, the Aggron wasn't sure what to make of the situation. It was… apprehensive? No, a better term might be stunned. It just stood there, watching as the stranger cautiously approached.

"Aggron?"

Blue eyes bore into Isaac. Then, they briefly flicked to the Quagsire, standing beside him with a blank expression on their face. Then, they slowly shifted towards the Arctozolt, rollng and sliding and tumbling along behind them. Then, they return to Isaac, before slowly narrowing. Gears are turning and turning and turning. Puzzle pieces are being pushed into place. Lines are drawn and dots are connected. Eventually, the great lumbering beast reaches a conclusion, and their expression hardens.

As does the rest of their head, as the metal plates upon their skull begin to shine.

"AGG--" The Steel-type roars, suddenly rushing forward. It aims an Iron Head right at the intruder, seeking to break their entire body with a single crushing blow. "--RON!"

---

Isaac Merlo

Shred's Brute Bonnet (Claimed from the RT Ticket here) traded to Makoto Kurumi
Ettie's Nihilego traded to Shred

Root-like tendrils begin to reach out, seeking to ensure that the Arctozolt goes down with the ship. On land, avoiding them would've been trivial. Within the rough waters? It is a struggle of thrashing and kicking and pushing, trying to get away from the grappling appendages. Had they truly been that same piscine ancestor, it would have been effortless to navigate the rising and falling sea, but in this instance, the godless mish-mash of ancient fossils possesses all the wrong traits for this kind of battle.

As it struggles to dodge, the Arctozolt resorts to Freeze Drying the water, before scrambling onto the resultant ice. A solid foothold, but also one with nowhere else to go. A dinghy, left to face down a kraken on its lonesome. How fortunate, then, that the lone sailor lacks the common sense to back down.

But really, the battle between the two is secondary. The primary purpose of Tsubaki's presence here isn't to pick fights, but to rescue the passengers of this ship. Slowly but surely, the lifeboat is loaded with more and more people. The ship won't last much longer, but it doesn't have to. Her mission here is almost done. All she needs is a few seconds longer...

THUMP!

Except all of a sudden, a shape leaps out from the water and Pounces aboard, and the boat is filled up. Six seats are taken up by six long legs. Through a film of water, a pair of blue eyes look to the girl, unblinking, before turning away. Away from the trainer, and towards the wounded victims.

"H-hey! STOP! HELP!"

With two of its legs, Araquanid picks up one of the terrified passengers, and attempts to introduce them to the bubble of water around its head.

---

Hyakkaryōran Tsubaki

You don't want to sound arrogant or anything, but you might just be the smartest man to ever live.

Seriously. What's everyone else doing in the battle? Gathering information, defending positions, and attacking points of information. Meanwhile, you're here in a cave, sitting on a folding chair, drinking Dr Perky and eating Cream Betweens. And at the end of it all? You're going to be filthy stinking rich!

Operation Yoink truly is your magnum opus. All of the pieces are moving just as they should. Should you contact the League now, or hold off until the next round of captives come back?

"Hmmmm."

You make a thinking noise out loud as you lean back in your chair, stroking your chin. On one hand, you're impatient. On the other, you're greedy. But which one is better to be right now?

As you ponder the problem, you idly reach for your phone. Might as well call Howard while you mull it over. Maybe an update from the frontlines will sway you one way or the other? Or maybe hearing about Howard's struggles will just be a fun diversion from what is, frankly, a pretty boring cavern. Either way, it can't hurt.

Ring ring, ring ring…

---

Eris Halla

CANTO VII; BLUR

---

This is depressing. It really, really is. You can barely even remember what happened in Hammerlocke stadium, but judging by the eight gym badges on your medallion, you clearly won. Then again, it wasn't ever in doubt, was it?

Given an opportunity to defy fate, you found yourself prisoner of another path. There is no battle in Galar that you can lose. There is no trainer in the entire world that can defeat you. The gamble of the fight is dulled by an immutable outcome, always in your favour. The thrill of the hunt is meaningless when your prey is weak and weary, and your stomach is always full. What's the point? There is no point. It's pointless! POINTLESS! Why even fucking bother with any of it? It's just not fun! There's nothing to learn, nothing to gain, nothing nothing nothing! It's all just a drama, the world's worst comedy, acted out on an REM stage. Performed by a single man, Shred Zeppelin, for an audience of nobody save Arceus himself.

It's ironic, isn't it? For all your life, you dreamed of being the best. Now, that dream has come true: You are the best. And yet, now all you want is a return to mediocrity. This certainly is a cruel dream. You can't call it a nightmare, but you're tempted to. Whatever it is, it's a real bastard.

...Maybe it's not too late? After all, there's still the champion. You have no doubts that you'll breeze through all the preliminay chumps and crush all the gym leaders you've beaten before, but the champion? The undefeated champion? The strongest in Galar, maybe even the world?

If there's meaning in this dream, it has to be found when you face him.

A meaning that can only be discovered in battle.

As soon as Grigori loosens his grip on your phone, you immediately snatch it back, like an overeager child stealing a pack of Pokemon cards. And, despite his request and/or warning, you immediately turn around to review the footage. As you watch the plainly shot video depicting your controversial combination attack, a single thought lingers in your mind.

Holy SHIT, you are so fucking cool. You definitely have a chance.

"Ooo...!"

Eventually, the Pokedollar signs fade from your eyes, and you snap back to reality. What are people talking about? Something something, splitting up, something something, two paths, something something, kill more aliens? That seems like the gist of it, anyway. It seems like Howard and Grigori are going to follow along with the majority, along with the bear, and all the people who hate your guts for daring to inconveinence them... Hm. Not a tempting prospect. Lucky for you, you're dubiously a contrarian, obviously a bad decision maker, and undeniably averse to the consequences of your actions.

"Alright fellas, we'll hit this one like a seven-ten split." You declare to the members of Team Griwarred (NAME STILL PENDING), as though that's a real saying that people actually say. "You two take one tunnel, I'll take the other tunnel, and together, we'll get to the bottom of this mystery. After that? That's when the money rolls in."

And just like that, without a word of further explanation, you're already walking towards the bright and wet path. Well, formerly wet, now icy. Nice of Howard to spare you the trouble of setting up those screens, though! After Making It Rain that much, Chester C. Coins is probably...

"...Chester, what are you doing?"

"SHHH! Keep it down, chap." The doll whispers, still as a rock. "Haven't you heard the chit-chat? These people aren't too fond of me after our joint venture with the Crumble Corporation! Why, if they get their hands on me, they'll probably sentence me to the guillotine there and then!"

"Yeah, someone's REALLY going to assassinate YOU, of all people..." You grumble. Playing along, you bend down to pick up the Substitute, and almost throw your back out in the proces. Despite how light and fluffy it looks, it's still got all the weight of a Gholdengo. Lucky for you, he shed a good few pounds and pennies during the fight, or you'd be dragging him across the floor right now. Instead, you can just barely manage to pick him up in your arms, like a box full of bricks, or an overweight Purrloin. "Just keep quiet, alright? I'll make sure nobody murders you, you little weirdo."

And so, you scurry along down the first path, over the frozen water, and into what lies ahead.

---

TL;DR - Gholdengo uses Substitute, Shred goes down Path 1, and abandons his allies to be a hipster.
howard slayte Grigori Sokolov

CANTO VI; Birthright

---

Was it right for you to have been born?

The question occurs to you at the dead of night, as your Corviknight Taxi makes a swift exit from Spikemunth. You thoughts don't even linger on the gym battle that happened hours earlier. Without the roar of a massive crowd or the spectacle of Dynamax, the sheer one-sidedness of the conflict was laid bare for all to see - Scrafty cut to ribbons by Aegislash, Malamar crushed under the heel of Grimmsnarl, Skuntank buried by Golurk, and Obstagoon beaten to a pulp by Pangoro. Barely a scratch on your own team, while your opponent's was destroyed utterly. The novelty of your forced dominance has long since worn off, but it's only now that you're starting to find it uncanny.

Which, you suppose, leads you back to the question at hand: There's a strong possibility that you lived the worst version of your life you possibly could have. Hypotheticals and theoreticals aside, you constantly found yourself walking the wrong roads and getting into bad situations, and it was almost always your fault. Sure, life dealt you a bad hand, but you never knew when to fold, did you? You always went all in, and always paid the price.

This time, however, things are different. Backed by your own unconscious imagination, you've changed your fate. You've stacked the deck so that you're dealt a royal flush every single time. You've become the legendary and unstoppable trainer you've always told people you'd be one day. All that's left is to take the last few steps, to dominate Hammerlocke and conquer Wyndon, to become the Pokemon Champion that you always wanted to be.

So why can't you be happy about it?

Sure, it's a dream, but that shouldn't change anything, should it? Even if you know all of that, even if you know it doesn't really mean anything, you should be able to revel in the moment. Hell, you've indulged in so many ill-advised flings and poorly judged drug benders, you're well used to ignoring the bigger picture in favour of the here and now. So, why can't you do it here?

If you can't be really, truly happy in your real life, and you can't be really, truly happy in this false life, then can you ever be really, truly happy at all...?

As the Murder Roulette winds down, you break your pose to turn around and look at the results, and they're undeniable. Megalopalan and Nihilego alike lay defeated, their corpses decorated by the same bloodstained coins that brought about their end. You have dealt your foe a definitive and decisive defeat. Not a single enemy remains to dispute what you've won. This can only be called an absolute victory.

"Jackpot."

A pause, mostly to let the cheers roll in. Unsurprisingly, they don't. A sigh escapes your lips as you crouch down, scrounging around the floor to find wherever your sunglasses ended up. Of course, you wouldn't expect these people to understand the greatness of a well-executed combo attack. They're too busy complaining about getting smacked by a few coins, as though getting a few nicks and bruises is a worse fate than being eaten alive by bloodthirsty alien zombies. Seriously, how privileged can you possibly be? What a pain in the ass...

"...Ah, there they are." You murmur, plucking your sunglasses from the sod and wiping them on your shirt, before returning them to their rightful place on your face. It feels immediately gross, and you're sure this is going to end with some kind of eye infection, but that's a problem for tomorrow Shred. Right now, present Shred has more pressing matters to attend to. "Hey, Greg, GREG!"

You quickly return to the side of your unwilling cameraman, peering over his shoulder as you try and get a glimpse of the footage of your attack. Granted, you don't think the enforcer is going to be the most thrilling cinematography, but that's fine with you. After all, your franchise is rapidly evolving before your eyes. Hoenn's Deadliest Hunts with Shred Zeppelin? That's old and tired. Shred Zeppelin: Defender of the Infinite Cosmos? Now THAT'S the future of your brand.

"How did it look? Was it good? Did we look good? Did you get me and Howard in? Nice wide shot? Good close ups? What about the reaction shots? Was she impressed? Do you think she likes me? Do I have a shot!? Come on man, this is MONEY! We got MONEY here! Show me the MONEY!"

---

TL;DR - Shred Zeppelin is too busy gassing himself up to pay attention to all the valid criticism levied at him. Goes to harass Grigori Sokolov on the behalf of himself and howard slayte .

It seemed that in these dire straits, everyone was going all out. Haxorus rampaged atop the sentient palanquin while Mega Scizor struck its legs, all while the towering Golurk clobbered it on all sides. You would be impressed by the sheer ferocity of it all, were you not stuck in the midst of it. You're being tossed above and thrown up and spun about and slammed down, and it's EXTREMELY disorienting. You'd probably vomit, if you hadn't already spent your spew budget.

...Man, that fucking Shiny Golurk is so cool...

Your unsteady train of thought is further derailed by the arcing of lightning. Raising your head up just a smidge, you catch a glimpse of the Xurkitree letting loose a barrage of lightning, having gone from "mildly irritated" to "quite displeased". This isn't good. The chaos is escalating. The longer you remain in the thick of things, the more likely you are to get caught by an attack, friend or foe be damned. You need to slip away from the eye of the storm and get to safety, but how...?

"OUCH! OUCH!!!" Haxorus shrieks, writhing about as a stray lightning catches its tail. "BASTARD WIRES! THINK YOU'RE BETTER THAN ME? WRONG! I VIOLENCE YOU NOW!"

"Haxorus, wait, NO--"

You try to grab onto the dragon to stop it, but that proves to be a very bad decision. The instant you grip it, the monster rushes forth, leaping off the top of the Stakataka and descending upon the peeved Xurkitree like a draconic meteor... Of course, it was using Giga Impact, but that wasn't really your primary concern right now.

"--YOU BASTARD DRAGOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOON!!!"

CRASH!

---

howard slayte Grigori Sokolov

You don't really know what happened after the Xurkitree jumped. You were far too busy trying to repent for all your many, many sins in the vain hope that it might get you a pity invite to heaven. However, all of your grovelling proves unnecessary, as surprisingly, this several second drop doesn't end with you as a red stain upon the floor. You suppose you should be thankful for that, but you're far too busy recovering from your near-death experience to even think about being grateful.

Well, that, and for one other pressing reason.

"BLEURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGH!"

You vomit, regurgitating a grim slurry of over-sweetened weetabix and processed ham slices and stale cake and instant noodles all over the ground. It's not pleasant, not for you doing it, not for the Xurkitree witnessing it, and especially not for the ground who's being subjected to it. In fact, the ground is so displeased that part of it flips around, revealing a strange looking red circle. As you're in the middle of heaving and gasping, you happen to make eye contact with it. Wait, isn't that...?

CRASH! A pillar of bricks slammed into the Xurkitree, sending it flying back as you're dropped down to the ground. That SHOULD be a good thing, except for the fact that right now, the ground is your enemy, and it's incredibly displeased with you in particular.

"SHIT!" You grab a random Pokeball from your belt, scrambling to your feet as you toss it out. You're not sure who's inside it, but you can only hope they're fit for the job. "Come out and protect me--"

"FREE! FREE FROM THE BALL! TIME TO ATTACK KILL MAIM SLAUGHTER HURT!!!"

Uh oh. That's Haxorus. You try to curse under your breath, but only end up retching. They're something of a problem child among your ranks, more volatile than a cranky Electrode and more vicious than a pack of Vigoroth. When you got him as an Axew, you assumed they were just goofing off, and when they were a Fraxture, you chalked it off to growing pains, but as a Haxorus... Yeah, no, they're fucked ip crazy style. Arceus only knows what Rocket was doing with the dragon before you got your hands on them, because they're nothing but sheer, pure brutality. Shiny, though, so that's a big plus. Chicks dig that sort of thing.

"SHRED WANT VIOLENCE? WHO GETTING VIOLENCED? VIOLENCE PUNY ARCHAELOGIST? VIOLENCE OBNOXIOUS BODYGUARD?" Haxorus senselessly snarls, beginning to stomp towards the pair, only to angle its gaze down towards the shifting, staring bricks beneath it with incredulity. "FLOOR MOVING? FLOOR LOOKING AT ME?? FLOOR ALIVE??? HATE FLOOR!!!! VIOLENCE FLOOR!!!!!"

With a rabid roar, they deliver a heavy Breaking Swipe to the Stakataka beneath their feet, sending blocks flying as a single blow reduces the intricate stonework to rubble and detritus. Meanwhile, you're busy putting distance between that murder machine and yourself. Right now, you just need to leave that living weapon to its own devices while you get to safety, because you REALLY don't want to get caught in the crossfire of a battle as messy as this.

---

howard slayte Grigori Sokolov

AWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOGA!

What the fuck? Was that a ship horn? Aren't you miles away from the nearest sea? Where the fuck did that come from?!

...Alright, so, moving swiftly past whatever the hell that was, why're you here? The answer to that question is obvious: You don't have any dogs. Weird, isn't it? You'd think you'd have picked up a dog by now, but you haven't! You have crocodiles, giraffes, scorpions, turtles, and several unidentifiable lizards, but no dogs. That's pretty fucked up. You're Shred Zeppelin, you should have AT LEAST one dog.

So, nothing to do but to get a dog! You heard there were dogs gathering at the Jagged Pass, so to the Jagged Pass you went. Sure enough, this place is overflowing with dogs. There's so many dogs, it'd be a miracle to walk away from here without one! But, hey, you're not greedy. Much the opposite, you like to think yourself a reasonable and charitable fellow. You'll just snag one of the big red dogs, and then you'll be on your way.

---

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