Grigori was hopelessly lost. Maybe that’s why the DRK Triad were able to surround them without much effort. He stopped as soon as he saw them and instinctively reached down to his belt. But he did not try to escalate the situation.

Instead, he looked. Watched. Eyed the competition. They all looked relatively built, only one or two were close to his level. The rest just looked fit– Howard would surely be capable of taking on a few of the smaller ones. He needed to believe in himself more.

“Do not fret, Mr. Fox, for I–”

That’s when the Unown, those letters from another plane, attacked. Their Hidden Powers flew, but Grigori was one step faster. His selected Poke ball hit the ground and released a massive dragon. The Druddigon roared and moved to one side of the archeologist. It soaked up the hits with little issue.

On the other side, Grigori gripped the man by his side and yanked him out of the way with surprising force. While the attacks missed him by mere millimeters, they did miss.

“Mr. Fox, please stay out of the way!” He let the man continue onward, off to the side. The grunt then pulled something off of his belt– a hammer. Howard would know it well if he remembered the ill-fated search party. It was the tool the dead Megalopolan had by his side, in front of the alien bowl.

“Brick, please distract the Pokémon!”

“Drud!” He whipped his Dragon Tail back and brought it forward with extreme strength. Bits of rock from the wall flew like rubber bullets into the Unown. Most of them were blinded by dirt, dust, and natural shrapnel, and the humans didn’t appreciate it either. The small group in front of them recoiled back, thrown off their rhythm.

Thus, it was all too easy for Grigori to run forward, faster than a man his age should’ve been, and raise the hammer. Wordlessly, it crashed down on the skull of the first gang member. Blood exploded from the point of impact, all over his face. The fresh corpse folded and fell to the ground like a pound of bricks. “One.”

---

howard slayte

“I see.”

He did not see. It did not seem a good idea to ignore the advice of a doctor or otherwise licensed medical professional. Especially when he had heard what had happened. When he was a living, breathing mummy. Shred would've made a perfect prop for the next big blockbuster set in some ancient cursed ruins.

But Grigori also knew that Shred was a free spirit, and as he’d learned before, herding Skitty was a fools' errand. He rubbed the head of Cream, to remind himself of the difficulty of it. “I will not be the one to try and stop you, Mr. Shred. Just… please don’t hesitate to tell me if you need assistance afterwords.”

It would be rather terrible to find him back here, or worse, in the morgue. All because he didn’t want to remain bedridden for another second.

“But, on a positive note, It’s good to hear you so energetic about it,” he said. “That’s a good sign. It means you’re going to make a full recovery. I can feel it in my bones.”

He did not stare at the place his other arm should’ve been. That would just be downright rude and a mood killer.

---

Shred

The door opened to a woman with short, blonde hair and not a clue who he was. While that didn’t take long to fix itself, it did earn Annalise a raised eyebrow from the Grigori. Did the person he was in conversation with fail to mention the monumental change to the rest of the tenets? That was certainly a red flag.

But not large enough to end things before they began. “Hello there, Ms… Annalise, correct?”

“I-I’m friends with june sleigh ,” he quickly tacked on. “She’s told me about you before.”

The man didn’t waste any time and slowly entered the cozy apartment. Pictures did it plenty justice, but being in person always was different. And so far, the real thing was far better than the concept. He saw someone on the couch in another room.

“As I’ve just said, I’m here to discuss any last second changes, considerations, and make sure we’re on the same page before I sign the lease agreement,” he explained. While he would’ve preferred to do this in the kitchen, or some office, he instead navigated toward the living room.

He walked over to the first empty seat he saw and planted himself down. The briefcase was set on his lap, and he opened it to reveal its barebones contents: a massive wad of paper, a calculator, and a small pencil bag. He pulled out the pages and started to rifle through them.

“Apologies if I’m interrupting something important,” he said to Rory. “I believe I was in conversation with you, Ms. Rory, about the apartment availability? But if Ms. Annalise holds the lease, then I believe she and I should discuss it proper.”

---

Rory Faust annalise henderson marilee beaufort

“I think I see… oh no,” Grigori groaned and pointed at the new disturbance on the horizon. It was a familiar sight, in a sense, but much, much worse than the last five minutes. “You have to be fucking with me–”

The only thing that could make someone like Grigori curse was almost exactly that: across the clearing, like before, was yet another horde of Iron Bundle. Except there was two times– no three times– no maybe four times–

An army of them. They crawled over stumps, fell down from the cover of the trees leaves, and even knocked each other over as they all rushed forward. A literal stampede of the creatures, an endless swarm that came from some unknown source. Scizor sized them up and his eyes widened.

Even with all the hatred in the world at his claw-tips, there were simply too many to count, and even more to defeat.

Grigori finally had to call it quits. He pulled out two poke balls and pointed them at the Skitty by his legs. They hissed furiously at their larger counterpart and the tide of red-and-white murder machines as they were recalled. “Playtime’s over, little ones.”

“Mr. Cross, we must retreat! There’s too many of them!” He tried to pull the admin backwards, further away from the horde that crossed the distance in record time. They kept pouring in from all over, and threatened to drown both them and the environment in their conquest for…

Wanton bloodshed. Wait a second. “Mr. Cross, your Pokémon! It’s making– damn it, it’s enraging them! We must leave, now!"

---

jayden cross
TOTAL: 425
jfxRuQBa

PRISMATIC PENITENTIARY[break]SIGN-UPS

LOCK IN

CHARACTER: Grigori Sokolov
WHICH WARD?: Ugly Ward
PREFERRED CELLMATE(S): PUT ME IN THE RING WITH ANYONE, I'LL KILL THEM
PKMN TEAM (6 MAX): See Below
WHY WAS YOUR CHARACTER SORTED INTO THEIR WARD? (OPTIONAL): Grigori sees his ugliness as more internalized in how he has befriended the daughter of the man he murdered in cold blood in a fit of rage.

The academic process had its place, Grigori had no doubt. Yet it could stand to be a little more informed when it came to the field. A field infested with paradoxical beasts, enemies that’d kill them on sight, and a shadowy organization that’d kill them on sight. A concession or three would be nice right now. It’d let him sleep easier as well.

Instead, he had to duck low and keep his voice lower. How does one go around an encampment made in the bowels of the earth? Perhaps Howard knew something he didn't, about the layout of these caves. Knowing him, it was entirely realistic. He'd been through Arceus knew how many temples and relics of the past.

The footsteps were numerous, but there looked to be a lot of overlap between the individual imprints. Which made it hard to tell exactly how many there were… but his gut knew the answer.

“We can do as you suggest, but I think there aren't many at this particular setup,” he whispered. “If I had to guess… less than ten? Smaller one. Theoretically, we could take them on.”

Science couldn’t explain a gut feeling, yet it was rarely wrong. It was the only time he disregarded any facts or logic that would otherwise distract him. But he’d listen to Howard anyway, as he was both his boss and the leader of this journey. Loyalty remained, even if personal dislikes clung to him like dirt on the soles of his boots.

So, he started to lead the way back, eager to be done with this expedition. Except there was one major, critical flaw: he didn’t do it slowly. Instead, he ate a face-full of cave rock. The impact disrupted his balance, and he started to fall. Desperate hands tried for any rocky outcrops, but his fingers slipped past each one. And then–

THUD!

His head throbbed, as too did his shoulders. He groaned softly, but quickly stopped when he realized what happened. That ‘movement head’ suddenly didn’t sound so ahead. “Oh no.”

“Mr. Fox, quickly!” He rushed himself off the ground and grabbed ahold of Howard’s arm. And then he started to run.

---

howard slayte

As the air grew static, and the Iron Bundle aware of his presence, Cillian’s words rang in Grigori’s ears. In the heat of the moment, the idea had evacuated itself from his mind like he the safety of their cover. “R-right!”

But first, not die. An Iron Bundle had locked on and gathered energy into its mouth. He dashed back just as an Ice Beam tore through the spot he’d just been. The chill it left in its wake quickly vanished, taken up by the fires from Scizor. His free hand pulled up the Poke Ball and called back the Scizor.

He left the grunt a furious, hellish glare on the way back, one that filled him with sudden regret and doubts.

They all faded when the sky exploded. His vision went pure white, and reality itself disappeared. he couldn’t even hear the destruction of the Iron Bundle in one clean, efficient attack. There had been too much water, and thus they were all subjected to the raw electricity that tore the cavern asunder.

Grigori thought he fell. He couldn’t tell. The seconds passed, and his eyes took long, arduous seconds to readjust. His ears didn’t. As suspected, though, the threat had been finally neutralized. His heart raced, but they were now safe. For the time being.

Something burned. Flesh? He sniffed– it was close. Why did his hand hurt? He looked down and–

Grigori screamed deeply and dropped the smoking ball at the same moment. The ball was literally red-hot, and vapor poured from the seems of the ball. That wasn’t good. Bad. Fear returned to his mind, even if the auditory information didn’t.

“Oh no,” Grigori untapped the power of the mega band. Its power left without fanfare, and he couldn’t feel the thrum of its energy. “Mr. Quinn, please, I need assistance!”

---

Cillian Quinn
TOTAL: 713
3wNv50FT

Grigori watched with bated breath as the Kingambit duked it out with the dangerous Tinkaton. They exchanged blows like no tomorrow, with neither able to overcome the other in a decisive manner. Pumpkin's blade deflected the hammer, which in turn stopped her blade in a cyclical manner. A deadly game they played, and both rather well.


After the problem with Scizor in this area, his heart was more on edge than normal. That one would be out of comisssion for a month, if he was lucky. He couldn't afford another one to become injured. His heart wouldn't survive that. "Pumpkin, please be cautious!"

"Kingambit! Gambit!"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU OLD BASTARD I KNOW WHAT I'M DOING!"

She shoved the Tinkaton back and-- oh. Tera crystals radiated, and her body started to morph. Her essence was being rewrote like code, and formed into an entirely different substance. Like the mineral of the earth invaded her cells and molded it into its own structure. Ground-type. The blade above her head was topped with a strange semi-circle, one taht looked much like their planet.

"Kingambit!" She swung down with all her might, on top of the Tinkaton's head. It displaced directly into the earth, like they did on the cartoons. Grigori let out a sigh of relief. Thank Arceus.

"Gambit," she said.

But... that was extremely odd. He hadn't utilized the tera band on his wrist. Was... something big brewing in Hoenn?

---

PROMPT COMPLETE: Have your pokemon suddenly TERASTALLIZE (even if you do not possess a TERA ORB). The first 15 characters will receive 5 mochi; the rest will receive 3 mochi

“Th-thanks,” Grigori stuttered. Cillian appeared to more appreciate his Pokémon than himself, and perhaps even the legendary Shadow Pokémon agreed. Maybe that was why the turbulent winds that whipped through his hair settled into a rainstorm instead. He didn’t feel ashamed of the assessment, but it didn’t stop the red embarrassment from presenting itself on his cheeks.

“Reminds me a lot of myself, in my earlier days of Rocket,” he said. “Too egotistical. More stubborn than a Mudsdale.”

Not that he disliked Scizor. Far from it; they’d been through too much to suddenly turn hostile towards one another. But it meant situations like this arose, where he wanted to keep going and going until the enemy broke, or he did. “To this day, there are certain scenarios from which I am surprised I survived through. Despite my best efforts.”

Maybe this would be Scizor’s time to get such an experience, but without one another by the other's side. The band around his wrist still hummed with energy, and smoke poured from every nook and cranny of Scizor’s exoskeleton. Worry racked his brain, but he knew it was foolish to continue to try and stop his Pokémon.

He could only hope that things didn’t go awry, as the metal insect began its final push. Iron Bundle tried to knock it down, but it mowed them down like the lawn a day after a heavy rain. More metal and oil flew into the air, but were washed away in the makeshift storm.

No, this wasn’t a rainstorm. It was a certified coastal hurricane, as wind swept some and water drowned others. And water bubbled crazily wherever the Scizor went. Sea foam hid the horrors underneath the surface.

“Please be fine, please be fine…” Grigori clutched his hands together and watched in miserable hope. It’s all he could do.

And he hated every second of it.

-
It was not fine. Scizor could not hold its composure any longer. Around halfway through the crowd of Iron Bundle, the heat was simply too much. Despite a lakes worth of water and the many water and iced based attacks that the miniature machines threw out in chaos, a light emerged from the center of it all. The eye of the storm. But it was not calm.

Fire burst forth from Scizor. Fear gripped Grigori's heart like a vice and obliterated his heart on the cave floor. He didn't utter a single word, but instead dashed forward. Straight into the cave, to brace the storm. He knew he should've helped. Why didn't he? Was this all his fault? How could he be so foolish.

---

Cillian Quinn
TOTAL: 619
i6qJYgv_
4/3 Mega Turns: Roll above 20 to maintain the form:

Do not maintain form, suffer injury (because I'm evil and malicious)

"This way, fast!" Grigori urged on the factory workers, all of whom ran towards the big loading doors in a panic. Dozens of footsteps pounded on the concrete, away from the Weezing that flashed progressively as the seconds dragged on. He watched it slowly, surely, and dangerously increase in size too. he'd heard about these things-- how they Exploded. 

But before the main event, an introduction came in the form of a deadly, lethal wave of sludge. It swallowed up machinery and product indiscriminately, and would soon be on top of the people. Grigori released a Runerigus, Howard, behind the small horde of people. "Howard, please use Crafty Shield!"

His body slowly came apart, black tendrils the supports that kept all the stone pieces together. His one eye watched as a meager wall was formed, and the expanded from his shadowy limbs. His spirit, heart, and soul poured into this shield. As soon as the thick dredge touched the makeshift barrier, it sizzled into the air.

And thanks to the Ghost-typing, it'd be able to withstand what came next. As soon as the last person made their way outside, Grigori slammed down the garage door with a clang to rival a cannon and started to run. He wasn't sure when the creature detonated, or even how bad it was. But it'd been separated from any companions, and it was isolated in the floor room.

Thank goodness for that.

---

PROMPT COMPLETE: Help evacuate wild pokemon and/or civilians

Some part of the grunt let go of his building tension as the stranger stepped up to combat his theft in progress. It meant he wouldn’t get very far into his attack, and thus was inadvertently freed from any more awful acts. So long as this person could hold his own, then this would get his supposed message across without too much bloodshed.

But the other part of him groaned in the back of his skull. How hopeful. How idealistic. How naive. Grigori had to give him the benefit of the doubt. That they both knew that neither would back down now that the stakes had been set. Retreat, sure. Turn himself in?

Not a chance.

Grigori rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. The balled-up bills entered his vest pocket, and he hopped over the counter in one clean motion. “Someone has to get hurt now, I'm afraid.”

“And it won’t be me.” He gave the quickest of glances to Freddy, and the bear roared violently in response. Despite the bright lights that illuminated the bear’s hardened mud face, the massive room grew darker and the ceiling adopted a twinge of red. And then, a crimson red orb appeared from thin air.

“rruruRUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!” The Blood Boon aimed and shot straight for the Shaymin. Regardless of its action, the portion of floor it occupied would be turned into pure dust under the sheer might of the attack.

While this happened, Grigori rushed forward. Fists raised to cover his hidden face, he closed the distance fast. His arm came back, then shot forward with the force of a jackhammer. Best make it quick, so he could try to get something more than the loose, petty cash from the morning manager.

---

Noel Parker

Three more. Something howled, far away. Its cry filled the area Grigori and Cillian occupied. The grunt could only register the sound as a distraction, and those held no place here. His eyes trained on the red, sizzling metal that ran faster and faster. White steam filled the cavern rapidly now, and turned the room into a deadly sauna.

Two more. Icy winds helped keep the heat off of Scizor, but it could not take the heat from his exoskeleton. Ice quickly melted on his skin and fueled the creation of even more steam. Wisps of white obscured their vision while the chaos continued to unfold. “Come on… come on…”

One more. Scizor breathed heavily now. Even through the thick of the evaporation and dismantling of dozens of war machines, his labored breaths pushed through to the trainer's ears. Grigori knew what was happening– and he cupped his hands around his mouth. “SCIZOR, RETREAT! WE CAN DESTROY THE CAVE, GET OUT OF THERE!”

One more. Just one more. All he needed to do was put one leg in front of the other, flap his wings, and pull his pincer back.

Just as one last Iron Bundle poked its head from the stone, his claws sunk into the hard rock and tore it down upon its head. The crash filled the cave, now more rubble than stone by this point. There were still plenty of Iron Bundle, but there would be no more reinforcements.

Now, to slaughter them all.

Winds whipped, and Scizor, in all hiss battered glory, covered in ghostly pale white from the rapid evaporation, raised his claws again. Winds whipped across his shell, and he stood strong. Rockets did not back down from nothing. Not even a beast like Shadow Lugia, one that did not care if he was in the crossfire.

"Scizor!"

---

Cillian Quinn
TOTAL: 531
ZHi1nvMW
Turn 3/3 Mega Evolution

Dark, dark, dark. The earth rumbled, but it melted into the general happenings of the region. It made it almost impossible to tell if it was the source of their search, the activity of paradox beasts, a combination of the two, or some fourth, mysterious thing he wasn't aware of. Grigori's feet throbbed, and his legs felt wobbled ever so slightly over the rocks that littered the path ahead.

"Mr. Fox," he muttered close to his ear, "are you sure this is the right lead? I do not doubt your abilities, but the last two times were not the creature you seek..."

The first had been a Walking Wake, as they called it. The second, that mysterious Shadow Group which inhabited these caves at various points. They'd barely dodged detection there, and that was at peak physical condition.

If they were tired, then they were more prone to accidents. Trips, falls, surprise attacks. All factors that stuck in the back of his mind like a popcorn kernal. He also understood the urgency of their mission. Time was of the essence, and every moment they didn't follow the rock golem was time it spent getting further away.

Quite the conundrum indeed. He uncapped his water bottle and drank the cool liquid as they trudged on. He would not give in to the tiredness, no matter how much it pulled on his muscles and sang its sweet nothings into his ear. He would be strong. 

But activity ahead drew his attention, and the hairs on his neck stood at full attention. "Mr. Fox, movement ahead. It seems... too light to be our quarry. And not violent enough to be another paradoxical beast. Another of that strange organization's camps, you think?"

---

howard slayte