As soon as their eyes met, Grigori’s lips pressed together. “Apologies if I seemed like I wanted to help ‘fix’ you, so to speak. It wasn’t my intention.”

Alison was already down the path, too far to realize the dangers that lay ahead. The pain, the misery. Ten times that which caused her to even glance down the trail. Even if she thought the company good and the end goal just, only time could tell the truth for her.

There was no chance to redeem this sorry soul. Doomed down the fated path well worn, one that Grigori now stood in front of. But try as he might, some sought revenge despite it all. And there could be no stopping them.

“But… I speak from experience. Revenge can be a tale told in parts, with fresh motives for each act of the play,” Grigori said. “Mine holds two itself. One which has no end, and another that ended three years ago.”

“For better or worse, I do know your story. Your motives. And I know it can only end one way. And it is not one you want.”

“But I am unable to stop you, should you choose to press on,” he said. His shoulders sagged and he pushed the coffee forward. Its warmth would no longer be helpful. “And I have no advice to give to those who decide on it. It is a solitary road, with only your eyes to guide the way.”

Ones blinded by rage, fury. All he could hope is that her tale did not end with the death of all involved parties.

---

Alison Everly

When was the last time Grigori Sokolov was late to an event? Not only late, but without an excuse? Only Arceus knew, and the deity would’ve wept to tell the tale. After all, funerals were a one-time thing. Once they occurred, the deceased would be buried or otherwise removed from physical space, and the only thing left were the memories.

He knew it far too well.

That’s why when Shred , of all people, gave him the invite, he had to be there. Except, as he quickly assured his tie was in place and he pushed open the doors, the first thing he wanted to do was find the man and apologize profusely for the absence until now.

Except… the tension stopped him. Physical enough to cut with a knife, and physical enough to keep him at the front entrance. There were a lot more people here than he anticipated, and the wrong kinds of people. Underbosses, admins, head scientists– this could’ve been another meeting, like the Cave of Origin.

Hopefully there wouldn’t be any dangerous beasts to disrupt the funeral. The time to mourn, to remember, to reminisce.

Not cause conflict.

But first things were first. He strode down the pews, up to where Shred was. It was easy to spot the man, alongside Cillian Quinn , with the cigarettes. Unfortunately, he’d promised himself to not indulge in the practice again. No matter what.

“Mr. Shred, I apologize profusely for my tardiness,” he said. “I hope there haven’t been many problems.”

He looked around to the small crowd, which murmured and discussed with one another openly. “But... if you need anything at all, please do not hesitate to let me know. I will do what I can to ensure a peaceful gathering.”

---

I AM HERE AND AM SORRY I DIDN'T POST IN IT EARLIER

“I can agree with you there, Mr. Barnaby,” Grigori muttered. Very often a division of attention left both sides worse for wear. Good intentions paved the road to hell, and sacrifices had to be made somehow. Another matter was whether that was from the person attempting or one interest point being ignored.

Much like this little pond, next to the edge of town. Did the town give it the care and attention it deserved at the cost of another faculty? Or was it equally underkept with its unknown companion, somewhere far away yet forever unknown?

Would the people even care if it disappeared one day, replaced with something entirely new?

“Humanity,” Grigori answered. Zero hesitation, as soon as the options made themselves clear. “Those who inhabit a location ultimately determine where the homeland is. What qualifies and doesn’t. A land without people, or residents to inhabit it is… well, it matters little. No one could argue.”

Being uprooted was a given. Whether that was loss of job, a constant war, broken hearts, or shattered ego, people changed location and the world continued to spin. People either found a new place to plant their roots or died along the way.

Grigori scoffed, “But, perhaps, your saying has stuck around for a reason. There isn’t a point in humanity if you lack close ones to support and nourish you. We would be no better than mindless drones, a part of a homeland rather than the protectors of it.”

“Do you suppose a saying cares whether one believes in it or not?”

---

BARNABY FINCH

The first half wasn’t even close. Grigori took each blow without so much as a raised hand in defense. They connected into his face, chest, gut, arms, legs– if there was a part of him to hit, it received the retribution it deserved. It hurt like hell, but he had to think. Not succumb to the rage.

This was a test. That much was certain: Elisabeth messed with his emotions to put him in the worst possible spot. He felt angry, spiteful, and ready to obliterate the shadow for the same reasons as three years ago. Unhealthy reasons. Ones that he no longer agreed with.

And the gas didn’t help. A silent yet insidious detriment, another roadblock placed in the path. Once he got a whiff of it, his senses clouded even further. Thoughts became sluggish, and his judgment corroded even further.

But perhaps it was a blessing in disguise. The silver lining in the clouds. This was a test. It wasn’t real. He could not change the past, yet this wasn’t that.

Thus, when another fist flew towards the bridge of his nose, his hand shot up. Suddenly, the blow met the palm of his hand, and the tables turned. His other fist mirrored the attack and sent the apparition spinning. Back into the wall of the garage.

“Oh, so you don’t regret it at all?” The shadow mocked, a dribble of dark matter escaped past its fingers.

“I regret the past,” he grumbled out. “But I live in the present. Unlike you.”

The tides turned. It was no longer a one-sided stomp, but a fight of equal proportions. An unstoppable force met an unmovable object, and they brawled as such. One unable to back down, and one unwilling to bend the knee.

Ms. Fiorelli will not win.

---

Elisabeth Fiorelli

With the combined powers of the mighty Shinx and the meek and meager Ursaluna, the electricity melded with the power of the Blood Moon to collapse the strange stone upon itself. It fell to cover the entrance with more than enough layers. In the nick of time too– Grigori swore he’d seen the Naganadel free itself moments before it was swallowed whole.

But now wasn’t the time for contemplation. Who knew if more were to come? Laurence now led the way back from whence they came, down the narrow and rocky path.

“We should be fine if we follow the chalk,” he said. “Otherwise… I hope you remember.”

That could not be how this expedition ended: with them getting progressively further away from the exit until they starved or succumbed to another of the strange beasts within the walls of this place. He didn’t know which was worse and wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

“And Mr. Laurence?”

“I commend your steady demeanor. Not many could look such a creature in the eye and not immediately fall to madness or despair.”

Prompts Complete:
 - Utilize terastallization or a bear in an advantageous way.
 - Search for suitable locations to set up camp/base.
 - LAURENCE WHATELEY's medical expertise and/or his calm nature must be advantageous in some way.

---

Laurence Whateley

Grigori whipped around, despite every muscle in his body screaming at the sudden movement. He’d yet to fully recover from the prison, and physical activity still caused aches in his body. In the door frame was Marilee, and the clatter of a bowl spilled popcorn all over the floor.

“Ms. Marilee!” He whispered loudly. His arms rose to be parallel with the ground and expose his empty hands. Show his lack of weaponry. “You’ll wake the house. It’s your roommate, Grigori. Remember?”

Who else had conjured the abundance of sweets that dominated the kitchen space? The fresh loaves of bread that magically appeared in the breadbox? Surely she could not be so oblivious as to not remember him? “You’re safe. Please, do not fret. There's no need to panic.”

Behind him rested an open suitcase, with several pairs of clothes shoved in and a pair of shoes to crown the pile.

---

marilee beaufort

“I… do not know,” Grigori said. Nothing came to mind immediately, and the few seconds afterward didn’t illuminate the reason. To corrupt their minds with false hopes and dreams that bordered on insanity was a stratagem he’d never– wait. No. That was a tactic he’d exclusively seen for the last thirty years.

But best not to mention it.

“My only guess is that they desire to break us,” he looked as uncertain as he sounded, “and make us more obedient. Less likely to rebel, more likely to do their work.”

“And where the magenta chains come in is a little beyond my deductive reasoning,” he finally broke free of Jayden’s grasp, and rubbed the sore spots on his skin as he looked to the side. “They could just be further methods of control? A means to administer drugs into our bodies?”

---

jayden cross

If the self-implosion wasn’t enough to fell the Xurkitree, then the draconic breath finished the job certainly. Grigori finally arrived on the scene as dark hot flames engulfed the cracked Xurkitree. It went limp shortly after, most of the breath overkill upon its fainted body.

It soon disappeared, recalled back into its Poke ball. And then, the man emerged from the side of the road. His one eye stared a dagger into Eris, and his knuckles were white against the glow of the fire.

“Why.”

From another ball, a tall, yellow dragon emerged. It towered over the Salamence and its trainer, over Grigori, and rivaled the light posts and buildings in height.

“You have left me no choice,” he said.

Another thing to regret, to wake up to in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. His hammer rose and pointed at Eris. If he could make the command once, he could certainly do it again. “I…”

“Erase them.”

Its body radiated ancient draconic energies, and it accumulated into a Dragon Pulse sent straight for the pair. To swallow them whole and make sure they did not cause problems for Howard.

---

Eris Halla

To be drowned in a sea of sand, or to be whipped away in a terribly strong sand twister? Neither were appealing, and both would lead to their swift demises. That was, unless, they managed to put a mighty dent in the Claydol. Hard for him to do, while being held from behind by a particular Archeologist.

“I won’t be much protection in the face of such adversity, Mr. Fox!” Grigori tried his best to keep steady, but there was no way he could hold out for much longer. They had to strike swiftly and specifically.

But, perhaps, there was another way. The creature summoned winds of its own machinations. They moved in their own current. So, say, if he were to try and push against the current, and either slow it down or stop it altogether…

“Mr. Howard, summon a Sandstorm!”

Rocks crumbled together, and then sunk below the sands themselves. Runerigus kicked up a mighty amount of sand, all in the opposite direction of the Claydols own. Perhaps this would buy them a little time. Or maybe they’d all be safe.

Or it was pointless, and their fates were sealed like the ghostly stone’s own all that time ago. Only time would tell.

---

howard slayte walter delmar Shred Roy Aker

kfWKeiTO

Shift: Moves that change the weather or terrain provide a +10 modifier to moves of the same type for the next three rounds. This bonus applies to all team members, regardless of who initiated the change. If a new weather or terrain move is used, it will replace the current effect in the next round. Only one weather or terrain effect can be active at any time. This effect will not apply to moves used within the same round as the move that changed the weather or terrain.

Moves Left: Earthquake/Stone Edge/Will-O-Wisp/Crafty Shield/Destiny Bond/Sandstorm

+10 Health Damage from Afflict, +10 roll modifier from previous Sandstorm

“I’m unsure this is something to thank me for,” Grigori said as the Claydol started to spin. Faster than Howard's own, in that Arceus-forsaken cave. A physics anomaly, given the absolute bare minimum he knew about the subject– but it spun fast and looked like a menace.

Not enough to cause concern for his other two comrades. The Drednaw gave itself a bath, and the Omanyte smashed its shell. Both gave him concern, but he had to trust they knew their strategy better than he. For himself, there was only one possible option

“Mr. Howard, Will-o-Wisp!”

A streak of flame erupted from the stone of the Runerigus, and floated straight toward the massive Claydol. Ghostly flame engulfed the Pokemon, until miniature puffs of fire exploded all across the body of their foe.

“But the thought is appreciated nonetheless.”

---

howard slayte Shred walter delmar Roy Aker

WUoQ7QC7

Afflict - Moves that inflict or have a chance to inflict poison, burn, frostbite, apply entry hazards, perish song and leech seed apply a damage-over-time effect that removes 10 HP from the boss each round for the rest of the thread. This effect can only be used once per team for the entire thread.
Moves Left - Earthquake/Stone Edge/Will-O-Wisp/Crafty Shield/Destiny Bond/Sandstorm

Grigori marched alongside the other grunts, his Kantonian armor heavy against his frame. Lesser men would’ve been crushed by its protective metal, trapped in a steely red prison. Yet he marched on, as if he was unburdened by its weight. His pure metal hammer clinked against it with each step, and his half-broken mask painted a terrible picture.

Tonight was going to be bloody, brutal, and necessary. howard slayte must achieve his goal if Hoenn was to stand a chance– if Eternatus was truly the threat he made it out to be.

He better be right. He had to be. Otherwise, this was for naught and numerous families would be broken apart for table scraps. A power squabble that meant nothing for one side and everything for the other.

But grunts did not question their orders. They completed them. And right now, his goal was to sow chaos. A good place to start was the newcomer, Pangoro in tow. The Seviper flew across the sand, and the grunt underneath the man’s blow followed.

“Stand down, stranger,” he called to the man. From his side erupted a Grimmsnarl, who clapped his fists together with a wicked grin. His limbs bulged, and he grew several inches outward. Bulked Up for the fight to come.

Grigori raised his hammer, “Or I will make you.”

---

Beau Fontaine

Grigori closed the distance between him and Howard, “Mr. Fox, to cover!”

Options for cover weren’t impressive– or even adequate. There were several small sand dunes that lined the sides of their trail, and he forcibly dragged the admin to the nearest one. It was a molehill compared to a literal mountain of a creature, but it’d have to do.

“Mr. Howard, Stone Edge!”

With a flash of light, a body of ruined rocks appeared from a Poke ball. Art given life from death and shape with shadow tendrils. The ground shook even more, and a jutted column erupted from the depths of the sandy earth. Probably from a long lost and forgotten ruined, buried beneath the ocean of yellow.

“It reminded me of you, Mr. Fox,” he explained without giving the admin a second glance. “Something to be preserved, and value. I thought so in the moment, anyway.”

---

howard slayte walter delmar Shred Roy Aker

zs8FMwXf


CRUSH: Moves that deal damage and have 100 base power or higher and one-hit knockout moves receive a +20 modifier.
Moves Left: Earthquake/Stone Edge/Will-O-Wisp/Crafty Shield/Destiny Bond/Sandstorm

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