PURCHASING/REDEEMING

welcome to the poké mart!

1X Type 1 Evolution (Gimmighoul to Gholdengo) (100 PD)

1X Level Tutor (From PC, Make it Rain for Gholdengo) (0 PD)

4X Level Tutors (Shadow Ball, Nasty Plot, Confuse Ray and Recover for Gholdengo and this also replaces Astonish and Tackle) (160 PD)

2X TMs (Gholdengo again, Thief and  (120 PD)

TOTAL

do come again!

380 PD

This was it? Grigori snatched the Gimmighoul before it could scurry off. It must’ve been too focused on its signature cold coin to notice his presence, but that was a two way street. He would’ve surely missed it if the sun didn’t reflect off said coin. Tough luck.

It pulled on the coin in some desperate attempt to free itself and the coin, but it might as well have tried to lift a mountain. Should he feel bad for this? Hard to say. The way its small body dangled in the air and its twig arms flexed their miniscule muscles to get back its coin was charming, in a way.

Mean, but charming. Didn’t they like to run away and hide? Grigori held out the last Safari Ball and put the Gimmighoul right on top. This was the advantage it needed to finally—

The tiny creature disappeared with a flash of white light, coin and all. Shred’s Gholdengo would have a new, exotic friend to hang out with.

---

Catch attempt on Gimmighoul, Safari Run Over (0/3 Safari Balls left)

Well, he wasn’t here to steal the files. Grigori could rest easy in that regard, though the mention of jayden cross does little to comfort him. They had both been there at that meeting in the Cave of Origin, and that’s as much as he wanted to think about that right now.

Instead, he continued further into the room. Each step was placed with delicate care, as if one wrong step would explode a hidden mine. “Then you have my condolences. I’ve been there before, trust me.”

“Nice music you have there,” He nodded right to the phone. “One of their older works, am I right? Are you a fan of them?”

Or just sound to occupy the empty space as Steven worked? Either way, Grigori had zero complaints. He took another sip of his coffee through the bright red straw.

---

Steven Campbell

Cute, but exceedingly common. That, or Team Rocket just had a fascination with these creatures. Not that Grigori could blame them as one ran up to him and headbutt his leg. Thankfully, it was not an actual attack but a playful ram. "Why hello there, little one."

He carefully knelt down and tentatively placed a hand on its head. It then headbutts his hand. Even cuter. Soft fur covered its body, black as night and in complementation with the soft blue body. Deino fully embraced the newfound feeling of a 'pet'. Its body vibrated almost violently. 

"Oh, aren't you a lovable one?" Grigori produced the last of his berries and gave the small creature slowly. Each shape disappeared into its mouth quickly, a vacuum that sucked the last few from his hand on its own. Deino kicked its legs fervently and pranced in a circle. Maybe he should capture this little one instead.

Unfortunately, that idea died rather fast. A distant roar rustled the leaves on the trees. The Deino looked over to the source of the sound, far away but a clear sign. Its mother must've been worried sick. It wasted no time and scurried back into the trees. Grigori waved it goodbye. 

But he did not want to tussle with a Hydreigon right now. Especially a mother. Surely he would find the true reason for the rumors here. 

---

Skipping the Deino 1/3 Safari balls remain

At least a few of them managed to make some progress in this investigation. Even if it was coaxing a Snubull out from underneath the table, Remiel Calcifet and Yuina Higashi revealed an important clue. Probably? Unless they had a Pokemon-to-Human translator, all the Snubull showed was that something would miss Madam Peacock.

Maybe it would try to bite whoever did the deed? That’d make life incredibly easy. Grigori knew that this was only a drop in the bucket. Hopefully, the rest of the manor had better luck with their search. Hell, hopefully, those in this room could find something. They were at the murder scene, after all. Did Madam Peacock’s soul watch them simply wander about, with so little as only passing glances given to her corpse?

“My Pokémon are gone as well,” Grigori spoke up to the cousins. He had slowly made his way over to the rest of the ‘group’, eyes still locked onto the decor as he talked. Did that one just mention Zekrom? A slight shake of his head dispelled that thought.

“A sudden storm, chased by dangerous Pokémon, and practically shoved right into the middle of a murder mystery. Quite the situation we’ve found ourselves in,” he said pointedly. In all honesty, he’d just said absolutely nothing of interest. But it got his foot in the door, so to speak.

“Grigori. Pleased to make all your acquaintances.”

Ok, he might’ve jammed his foot in right before it closed, but he’d rather have a stinging foot than a closed door.

---

 - Special mention to Remiel Calcifet, Yuina Higashi, and Elise Calcifet for practically shoving myself into the small group
 - The decorations might provide insight (2/2)

Grigori nursed his second plastic cup of the overtly sugary concoction. To call it coffee would get june sleigh 's attention, even though they were separated by miles of sea and land. He had learned this the hard way early on, but that couldn't keep him away for long. After all, it had been quite a while since he last attempted this sort of night.

Guard duty. Of course. Looked like his lack of proper missions had earned him the Hot Seat. Age did not beget any meaningful status. Why would it? Those who thought themselves above work in this organization did not last long. And apparently, the bare minimum wasn't good enough either. So, overnights were a necessity. Not often, thankfully.

But tonight would prove peculiar. Music at this time of night? And in the offices? This person wanted to wake the dead with that racket. Or was it someone else on an overnighter? 

Grigori quickly made his way over to the sound of the noise, careful not to make too much of his own. Light blinded him from the crack of a door. Either he had missed someone who was stealing their documents, or this was an overachiever. Regardless, they had good taste in music. Rock never went out of style, despite the insistence of a few Rockets. 

A few gentle knocks cut through the drone of music and file ruffles. "If you are an intruder, you have--"

Oh. Just some kid. New guy? Grigori cracked the door further and peeked his head inside. "Ah. Apologies. Did not realize someone decided to... refile everything."

"Gave me cause for concern for a moment there," the grunt pushed himself further into the room and closed the door with the speed of an old man. "Did you alert anyone of your prolonged presence here this night?"

---

Steven Campbell

Grigori returned to the main group, which looked to be on their way down the dark path. And when Shred announced his intentions, he groaned. “Mr. Shred, that seems like a terrible idea. Don’t you think it best to earn the goodwill of your–”

Too late. The man already trudged towards the path less traveled by. For no good reason. Light and illumination were cold comforts if you couldn’t swim. Or if something or someone pulled you underneath and held you there long enough. And considering the experience nearly all of them had in the last few minutes…

And he carried around a Substitute that strained his muscles and would surely throw out his back if he didn’t stop lifting with it. A vein on Grigori's forehead bulged, but he barely managed to hold back a slew of insults. A twinge of shame joined the vein on his head.

Only a twinge, though. It was still, in his eyes, an incredibly foolish idea.

“Do not fret, Mr. Howard,” Grigori attempted to comfort the one of the two who seemed capable of serious remorse. “I’m sure you had good intentions. Maybe save the move for a more advantageous scenario? A greater ratio of enemy to ally?”

Hopefully, the dark path they started down was not paved with these good intentions.

“Also," Grigori leaned closer and whispered into Howard's ear, "speaking of internet fame, remind me to have Shred delete that video. Or encrypt it. I’m sure you understand the reasons, yes?” 

Team Rocket was the sole reason. Safety hazard. Surely a shame for the pair, as their attack had been mildly amusing in the moments before it started to hit their companions. And their Pokémon. Then HIS Pokémon. Messy affair. But not nearly as messy as them getting an exclusive meeting with Declan Walsh in the privacy of his remote office, with convenient access to a trash chute that lead right into the massive dumpster in the bowels of their headquarters.

---

Tl;dr

 - Tells Shred he is a fucking idiot but does not actually try to stop him
 - Attempts to comfort Howard a little
 - Also tells Howard their attack is a safety risk to their identities and they should make sure the video of it never sees the light of day
 - Still has all those Missing Persons Posters as they follow the Ursaluna onto the Dark Path

This must surely be what the rumors spoke of. A small insect, with eight legs and a massive ball of twine that covered its abdomen. Thought to be exclusive to Paldea (but perhaps brought and smuggled over, Grigori grimly considered), but recently spotted in the region. He'd only heard reports of the small creatures existing here, but to see one in a 'natural' habitat was...

Exhilarating. Sure, all it was doing at the moment amounted to 'hanging from a tree branch with its eyes lazily scanning its surroundings', but that was something in it of itself. Such a relaxed attitude meant it felt relaxed. Enough to sit still in a theoretical danger zone. Perhaps the grounds only held the Pokémon seen thus previously. Surely the Murkrow annoyed these things to no end, but they'd yet to approach.

Unfortunately for the creature, Grigori quietly pulled out a ball and quickly chucked it directly at the web. It could not physically avoid the ball, and thus was captured inside. The ball submitted to gravity and collapsed onto the ground. This would surely make someone happy, if not him.

It was him. 

---

Capture attempt on Tarountula, 1/3 Safari Balls left

“I’m sorry.”

Grigori sat at the kitchen table, just like always. The right leg barely hovered over the ground, a product of age and shoddy craftsmanship but perfect for when he wanted to be defiantly annoying. Sunlight trickled in from a grimy, spotted window as he, his father, and his mother ate dinner. A meager portion of bread and soup sat in front of him. His stomach growled loudly.

“Wh-what do you mean, Mr. Sokolov?”

Caution could never be the wrong decision even as he stared into Mr. Sokolov’s red, teary eyes. The last time he fell for it, the next few days had been a nightmare of awkward conversations and sleepless nights. Mother sat on the right, too focused on her spoon that circled the rim of the lukewarm bowl. Head lowered. Just like always.

“Please, Grigori, you don’t need to call me that anymore,” Mr. Sokolov said. Carefully, he laid his own spoon on the neatly folded napkin. “I’m… sorry, for everything I’ve done so far.”

Grigori did his best to hide the confusion, but his eyebrows furrowed all the same. This man better not be a liar. “But, what have you–”

“Stop.”

His body tensed up. Mr. Sokolov scanned the boy and sighed deeply. “Forgive me, I did not mean to yell. Please, Grigori, hear me out.”

Silence followed. Mr. Sokolov’s eyes darted around the walls with peeling paint and no fixtures. The small room grew tense, thick enough to cut through with a knife. Ice cracked inside its glass, and condensation slid slowly onto the worn-down table.

“I’ve had an, what’s it called… epiphany,” Mr. Sokolov started suddenly, “of my behavior. My drinking. My… gambling. I look at the lives of those around us. Lowly. Undesirable. We drag ourselves to work to do awful labor under terrible conditions. And we ride home on buses falling apart and drive on roads that look like the aftermaths of a mine attack. The houses run down.

“But we have enough. Food security. Consistent pay. Slowly yet surely, the government does try to make our lives better.”

“And even then,” he motions to the room. The dirt that permanently resides in the corners. Lights flicker above, on the verge of their inevitable demise. Even the air from outside penetrates the thin walls; equilibrium is reached at whatever temperature Mother Nature decides appropriate.

Grigori could write a thesis about the disrepair of their house.

So could Mr. Sokolov, apparently. “We live worse than our neighbors. Are looked down upon by our neighbors. Because of me.”

“And I can’t… we can’t, keep going like this,” Mr. Sokolov said. By now, the corners of his eyes streamed salty tears which fell to the corners of his lips and onto his chin. “This is not the life we should have, and it’s not the life either of you deserve. So, starting tomorrow I am. I’m going to get the help I need. Figure out when the Double-A meetings happen, and start working more. This will be a tumultuous time for the near future, but it’s a necessary change.”

“Liar,” Grigori spit out. Pinpricks erupt on his skin. A cold fear descends on his head and limbs. Why had he said that? There had been more elaborate lies than this. Better performances. This would surely spark the wrath of–

“I understand,” Mr. Sokolov said. Grigori blinked. What? “This is sudden and out of nowhere. You’re probably just as confused as I am. Hell, if you don’t trust me for the rest of your life, then I won’t blame you for a second. But I can’t do any of this without first admitting my failures as a father. As your father.”

Mr. Sokolov pushed his chair back and quietly rose. Grigori did not break eye contact while Mr. Sokolov slowly walks around the table. Around his despondent mother. Every nerve on his body screams to run. To flee. To fight back, like he did in real life. Yet his limbs are heavier than lead. The only agency he has in this paralysis is his lungs, which pump air in and our like his life depends on it. He gets closer, and closer, and he raises his arms and Grigori flinches and closes his eyes and mentally prepares for the facade to end and Mr. Sokolov to strike him hard for his insolence.

Careful arms drape around his body. He is pulled into Mr. Sokolov’s chest, and wet skin presses into his short black hair. “I’m sorry, Grigori. I really, truly am. Is there any chance that within your heart, you can find forgiveness for the way I have treated you?”

Through the shot nerves, the many memories that taint this moment, the nights spent cold and hungry, and all the in between– Grigori manages to slowly nod his head. Shaky breaths wrack his fathers body as he starts to sob into his son. Blubberings fill the room, almost incomprehensible aside for the constant stream of apologies. As steady as his tears. 

Unlike always, and somewhere along the way, another pair of arms embraced Grigori. His mother must have joined the pair, as silent as ever in the presence of Mr… no, in the presence of his father.

Grigori desperately wishes he could move his body and embrace this man and never let go, unlike the real life.

---

Prompt - Family

Word Count - Lol, lmao (This is surely above 200 words)

Grigori prayed Declan Walsh never conspired with the likes that produced Saturday Morning cartoons. As silly as such a hope might’ve seemed to an outsider, the reality spoke otherwise: many had fallen to their ‘Murder Roulette’. Many a foe– and even some allies. His Kingambit one of them.

She must’ve gotten bonked on the head during the assault. The grunt grimaced at her position, flat as a pancake and blade pointed upward. He quickly retreated the Pokémon as to avoid someone tripping and decapitating themselves on the blade. More for his sanity than hers; she would’ve relished such an accident.

“Mr. Shred, once again, it is Grigori,” the man corrected through an unamused look. Slowly, he went to the video section of Shred’s phone (and past all the silly memes and illicit images) and replayed the video in all its ‘glory’ to the man. Through dark lighting and a slight tremble that pervaded the entire video, it did clearly show the Claydol and Gholdengo's attack and its many, many victims.

And then he pushed it into Shred’s hands. “Watch it on your own time. While I admit your ‘stunt’ was effective, you’ve racked up quite the collateral damage. Me included.”

Hopefully, they caught on to the numerous stares pointed directly towards them, and even ryker hayes who called them out justly. Great. Everyone probably thought him directly part of this endeavor.

But… at the end of the day, they had prevailed, and the strangers were done for. But someone earlier mentioned something about ‘reinforcements’ behind them? Which meant they’d likely attack them if they dared venture back outside. Looked like the cave split into two distinct paths. Not that he could make out either of them from his immediate position.

“Mr. Shred, Mr. Howard, I recommend we follow the large Ursaluna wherever it goes. The Pokémon seems to know more about this situation than any of us. Somehow.”

But before he did that, the far wall caught his eye. Grigori closed the distance and investigated the numerous Missing Persons Posters, many now dotted with thin needles. Grigori grimaced. With any luck, these strangers had faked them all in some attempt to lure more people out here. He carefully pulled the papers out from around the needles. Those left behind either had too many needles that punctured the stone to make it feasible to take them, or had been destroyed in the attacks altogether.

---

Tl;Dr
 - Sorry Kingambit but I am NOT eating shit just so I can write you being violent for seven more rounds. Kingambit has fainted due to the Murder Roulette attack!
 - Chides Shred, but starts the video and hands his phone back
 - Hopes that no one hates him as well not trying to stop them and even recording it
 - Unless Howard and Shred have objections or different plans, Grigori will go down Path 2 with the Ursaluna and Thomas
 - Also walks over and tries to take some of the Missing Peoples posters (any that weren't destroyed, if they exist)

Murkrow were very common to these lands as well, but probably for different reasons. Grigori always felt their presence wherever he walked, in Kanto as well as here. Among the trees, perched in power lines. Their call just another background noised tuned out during the hustle and bustle of everyday life.

A more skeptical and symbolic man would claim that the Grim Reaper follows wherever he dare tread, a terrible omen to his life. Or a sign that he was a member of Team Rocket; the Honchkrow they evolved into perfectly fit the bit for what a member of such an organization would look like, if they were Pokémon themselves.

The answer was much simpler to him, though, as he pulled out a few berries from his pocket. At a young age, he'd learn which ones to eat and which ones to avoid. Perfect things to give to the stray Pokémon he could never bring home but wanted the attention of.

An underhanded swing sent a couple Oran berries into the grass ahead. The Murkrow cocked its head curiously at Grigori. The man stepped back a few steps. That was enough to get it to swoop down and hop around in the grass. Its beak stabbed into the earth, a bright blue berry shown each time.

But not what he thought was so mysterious of the Safari Zone this time around. He waved casually at the bird and gave it a wide berth as he continued on.

---

Skipping Murkrow, 2/3 Safari Balls

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA–”

The Scizor continued its assault, through both desire to vanquish its foe and primal fear of death. It did NOT want to resemble the remains of a construction yard alongside the Stakataka, which suffered hits from all sides.

Yes, even the Quite Displeased Xurkitree was hell bent on its destruction. That, or it was conveniently in the general vicinity of the rest of the bastards it wanted to murder. Either way, electricity shot out and bounced every which way in general, everyone an equal target for its bolts of lightning.

And as the shiny Haxorus clobbered it into the dust, Scizor managed to outrace its repair process. The sound of stone-on-metal filled the area, the building the cause as its weight gave in on itself. The bundle of wires that had no investment in the conflict seemed unbothered by this change of events. It simply unbound itself from the building block and put distance between it and the impact zone.

Grigori gave Howard a thumbs up as he crouched to the ground, ”I must agree, Mr. Howard. Looks like our investments have paid off.”

Despite existence in this realm being a pain, it felt nice to have things not end with them running in terror from a threat. The shiny Golurk was a welcome addition, too. Maybe he should go out and try to hunt for a shiny Pokémon as well. They seemed all the rage with the youth.

Even better was when he noticed the slow, mighty fall of the building away from them. Wait. It wasn’t getting further. Far from it, actually. The large rectangular continued to grow in size.

Panic seized Grigori by the chest. “MR. HOWARD, WE NEED TO MOVE OUT OF THE WAY!”

The grunt forcibly grabbed the archeologist and groaned. Howard had a lot more weight on him than initially anticipated. Even as lighting continued to arc off everything that had been caught in the crossfire, Grigori attempted to half-haul-half-help his friend out of the way of the building. Where was Scizor when you needed it?

“Mr. Howard, your shiny Golurk needs to push the thing off to the side! We won’t make it otherwise!”

---

howard slayte Shred

2/3 Posts with Mega Scizor

"Shoo, shoo, please!" Grigori said as he batted at the curios Zubat. These were far from uncommon. If anything, they were one of the few constants in life. Would Zubat be placed above or below taxes? Above, surely. This creature was surely around before the concept of money even became a thing. A pokemon best viewed from a distance, and the distance preferably had a couple walls between them.

Finally, Grigori clipped its wing with a powerful swipe. It lost height and nearly crashed into the ground. Thankfully, it barely managed to recover and fly back into the sky. It had learned its lesson and flew into the trees, on the hunt for another person to annoy or some insects to consume.

---

Skipping Zubat, 2/3 Safari balls