There were so many things going through his mind, it was just… overwhelming to say the least.

(For starters, he hoped that Guillermo Marceliño wasn’t doing another righteous panic this time, because most of [if not all] of his things were back on the bedside table in their shared room back home, so… yikes. Yikes, yikes, yikes.)

Much as he wanted to rip the mask off and away from his face (the rank stench from within was already starting to make him feel queasy) fact of the matter was that he wasn’t sure if he was in a nightmare of some sort. Unfortunately, though, the screaming was all very, very real.

At the mention of ‘the three day war’, though, it felt like a trap door opened beneath his feet—squinting through the suffocating mask he immediately identified the ‘space cannibals’, also having the same strange growth coming from their bodies… which would only make things worse if someone among them were to fight, to resist, to—

His thoughts were cut off at the sound of the screaming, and then—and then the blood was all over the place as he watched one of the other prisoners in their containment cell get Final Destination’d to bits.

(Or was it Saw? He forgot. It had to be one of those gory movies that his partner loved watching during Halloween—the kind that would send him screaming and hiding under the covers because the sight of spilled guts and blood were more than enough to make his brain short-circuit and pass the…)

That was the last thing he remembered seeing, for a good while.

---

Sometime later, he would awaken—feeling feverish and unwell… to a plate of mochi.

Why did it have to be so deeply purple?! He looked over at his companion, who seemingly took a big bite out of the damned thing, but… he could feel his stomach churn at the thought of having to ingest something like this!

(Plus didn’t people tell you, the more brightly colored something is, the higher the chance it was extremely dangerous to eat?!)

“Are… are you crazy?!” he would rasp out, watching as his companion took one bite—and then—the next sequence of events made him want to hurl…

He thought he could hear familiar voices, despite him being in this feverish state… ugh…

The masks made it hard enough to distinguish who was who in the ward, so without much information he would… he wondered what would happen if he refused to eat the mochi?

(Then again, the human body could survive without food for several weeks at a time, but water was the more pressing matter among other things… was the water here even safe to drink?!)

One thing at a time, Alex.

First things first: where were they at.

Second: how were they going to overpower their captors and make a break for it?!

He would then reach towards his neck, trying to find two chains… one for a bird whistle, another for something else he always kept on himself in case of emergencies… but they were not there.

Nothing on his person was there.

He was sorely tempted to pull the feather out and try to blow either the ‘space cannibals’ or the big, booger-picking monkey guard out of the entire way and blast everyone towards freedom—but where were their Pokémon and personal effects stashed away at?! So many things to consider…

With a defeated sigh, he would reach for one of the mochi, and take the tiniest piece possible because there was no way in hell he was going to ingest something (against his will) that was clearly, obviously designed to make them subservient to… their captors.

One thing at a time, Alex. Get the fuck out of the cell first, ask questions later.

(And then the walls may as well have had ears, but.)

Once the tiniest piece of mochi had passed into the back of his throat, the wibbly, wobbly… the strange chain around his neck did weird things (he didn’t care to look) and he realized he could walk around, but not too far—

If only he wasn’t a limp noodle, he’d have kicked the ugly booger monkey upside the head!

But he had other ways to retaliate… and it involved getting his hands on whatever random assortment of Pokémon he’d thought of bringing along.

One thing. At a time, Alex.

He sighed through gritted teeth; he’d have to be careful as he set to work, hating his noodle arms for almost dropping the big chunk of rock he’d picked up and tried to smash apart, because they were looking for shards.

He recognized the tera shards at least—but how were they going to make use of them, if they had no place to hide them—

He idly wondered if he would be able to sneak a tiny sliver back, but he’d have to be extra careful because those rocks looked plenty sharp!

As he set to work, the booger-monkey came by and deliberately knocked the piece of rock he was holding out of his hands, as if goading him to get working faster!

“No need to be so pushy,” he would hiss—but the booger monkey would only leer at him, before he picked up the rock again and set to work. Hopefully he’d be able to pull the tiniest tera shard away from the pile, smuggle it back inside his mouth or something, but be extremely careful about it—

And hope to get the hell out of here.

---

• Frog where are you please come save your husband!!!
• Birddad.exe passed out at the sight of the carnage of the mutinous prisoner getting FD’d (or Saw’d) against the cell bars
• the rest of this is mostly him being a little too reflective and considering his options
• eats the tiniest piece of mocha possible (the smallest conceivable piece EVER) before getting to work
• booger monkey messes with his work by knocking the rock he was working on away from him
• Birddad.exe is trying to think of plans how to get the fuq outta here
• attempting to hide the smallest tera shard piece he can find in his mouth (should he find one!)
• no Pokémon listed since they don’t have them with ‘em