Attacks from all sides, it seemed. Scizor had only just transformed, yet that had been enough to draw the most vicious of ire. Flames would soon engulf his exo-skeleton and turn him to a black husk– if his head didn’t roll from his shoulders before. In the split seconds, time stopped. Frozen in place, he considered the options.

There was no way to avoid both opponents. That much was true. Either be burned alive or swiftly executed. But… what if he didn’t have to suffer either fate? A wicked grin encapsulated his face, and his entire body–

Shrunk?

But what came next was far, far worse. As fire rushed to eat him alive, and blade came to tear steely sinew apart, another flash of light trumped them both. From where Mega-Scizor stood, another being emerged. Grigori felt it on his wrist before it ever happened, but he knew that all-too familiar heat on his skin.

Not from the mega-band, but the tera orb.

Where there was once a perfected being instead stood a paradoxical one. Intense heat engulfed his frame, but it merely licked his crystally red exoskeleton. Atop his head, where a pincer rushed and caught the blade of Mega-Gallade, was now a crown of flames.

Terastilization turned the Scizor into Fire. And this fire couldn’t be quenched. He let the blade fall, but much, much slower. A nasty wound left its mark on his face. A scowl emerged, but it did little to slow his onslaught. Once more, he rushed straight for the Mega Audino– but no longer afraid of any fiery passion.

Another Bullet Punch to the skull.

Grigori didn’t bother to give them the time of day. He focused on Rex, as naive and bold as ever. Admirable, in a way. Not too many could both take his hits and simply get up afterwords. But that’s where the mental compliment ended.

“The point?” he swung his fist around, and blood droplets gently coated the scorched fauna. “This is not a lesson, fool. This is war. People are lucky to die swift.”

His mind wandered towards the pair left behind. They had been lucky in that regard– but he would be the one to carry their burden. They were lucky in that regard as well. The dead had it easy.

It was the living that had to struggle on. Once more his fist pulled back, and he quick-stepped forward. One two–

Rex would get a weird feeling: if this fist connected, he might as well be dead. “The point is you don’t.”

---

keiko mori Alba Evovae Althus Rex

10 MP for Post, however many points for Tera
50 MP for highlighting character strenghts
50 MP for gaining respect for another character (if only a little)
50 MP for antagonistic Exchange

Ah, how could he have forgotten such a vital, crucial, omnipotent fact?

The higher-ups of Rocket did not gain their seats solely through goodwill. It required a specific mindset even to catch a glimpse of its grandeur, its beauty. Sacrifices upon sacrifices. Things were given up, taken away, or smashed beneath the heel as you went to take your seat. Most of them, their conscious.

Others, their sanity. Which had Ameena stomped beneath her boot as she sat down in her chair at the table?

“I take it that you define your entire worth here as your research? I’m not sure if I would define such a view of oneself as healthy,” Grigori said cautiously. Optimistically. He was not the kind to let the girl hang herself from the rope he dangled. “There is more to an existence than accomplishment.”

“Your friendships, bonds, even perhaps enemies– you’d be little more than a stranger, once people see past the facade,” he eyed her carefully. The second she looked offended or upset, he’d have to backpeddle. Otherwise he’d be crushed next.

“And that’s only if you view it from a personal perspective. The world left behind will not be so quick to forget. Especially the people within.”

---

ameena abadi

First names were dangerous. They single-handedly decided how much the other person knew about you, from a Rocket perspective. Out in public, even when outside of a disguise and pretending to be normal, a first name always gave him pause. If only a slight one. But it was always there.

Even when it wasn’t his, a charged scenario like this made him physically flinch. howard slayte was an exception, as he so often wanted to be.

“Same as always– picked up a rather vile habit,” he added darkly. “He’s looking for a sense of justification, or comfort, at the bottom of a bottle.”

The only thing that resided there was a reflection.

“You did not answer: what are you doing here specifically?” His grip on his poke ball tightened, and his patience was wearing thin. His heart begged him to not, but his instincts said he’d wasted too much time. Reinforcements, cave in, a whole host of reasons that he should be dead right now.

“I am not a patient man.”

---

@navy

10 MP for post
50 MP for Antagonistic Dialogue

Wonderful. Just absolutely wonderful. Screams soon filled the room, as well as panic and the strange inability to take off his mask. How convenient it would be to do so, but even as he did, it returned… without any trace or recollection of doing so himself.

“I’m… afraid I do not know the language you speak. Kalosian?” _______ stole a glance at the words. Those were not the type he desired to see at the moment. Perhaps they would be forced to play the game of the mansion itself. The kind that none of the Ghosts seemed interested in. _______ turned back to Allegra. “I’m not–”

Oh, she was already gone. At least the clack of her heels and swish of her dress made it easy to see through the ruined crowd. He stole the water from the bar top and rushed to join her. Her logic wasn’t wrong, but what did she hope them to do against incorporeal threats?

Even someone such as him was powerless against the nonphysical.

“If I may wager a guess,” _______ stepped in right behind her. Filled to the brim with research, and rocks. He went to the closest one and tentatively picked it up. His watch clacked against it forcefully. howard slayte (looks at camera). “I presume you’re asking about what this all is.”

With the rock returned to its place, he turned his interest to a splotchy notebook instead. Its cover proved no more informative.

“Feebas… Bronzor… Clefable… even a Solrock it seems,” he murmured. Quite a many pokemon– but to what end? “If I weren’t mistaken, this seems like some work in a Field to me. But why here in Hoenn? Mt. Coronet is not exactly close…”

“What say you, miss? Any chance you happen to be in the field of science?”

---

Tl;dr
 - Oh no
 - REDACTED follows Allegra Burns because what else is there to do?
 - Joins her, guesses her sentence, and investigaves
 - Asks her if she went to college
 - Man this sure seems like FIELD work to me

Muddy the Marshtomps Mud Pit Mud Bath was rudely interrupted by the gift of evolution. Some would claim it was a gift from the gods, the ability for Pokémon to rise up and overcome adversity. Others turned to science as an explanation, mutations and literal evolution to mold them into something better for survival purpose.

Muddy, well… what the fuck did he know? He wasn’t smart enough to comprehend all that. For him, evolution was the thing that ruined his mud pit. The blue body soared off to the side, and slapped against the daycare wall.

Mud-caked skin kept him stuck to the plastic tile, but not enough to keep him from slowly sliding down. Eventually, his body hit soft grass and plopped over.

Warmth was gone. Mud was gone. What was left but a massive mass of flesh and bone and refined hunger?

“Marshtomp.”

The creature pulled itself upright, then absentmindedly crawled to the Snorlax. A gentle touch told him the big guy was warm. And there was still some mud dug into his fur. Thus, he practically threw himself into the ‘rival’ and tried to relish the feeling of peace and comfort for a second more.

To everyone else, it just looked like he was violently rubbing his face into the Snorlax’s ass cheek. Weird.

Gross. But not that it could bother him.

---

Althus Rex

The trouble had been vanquished. Down into the depths sank Munchlax, until it was no more than a faint memory. Something that’d give him scares later down the line. A thing that might haunt his days and plague his nights. Evil incarnate, the physical embodiment of Gluttony, a deadly sin.

… What was going on again?

Oh, right. The Mud Pit. How comfortable it was. How serene. Peaceful. Woopers continued to frolic and play, and Clodsire watched without a single thought in the world. They were his brethren. He was just like them, except for looks. But looks didn’t matter for any of them.

Surely no one would ruin The Mud Pit by evolving to be as big and round as it. That’d be awful. Muddy the Marshtomp inhaled a big mouthful of mud and–

---

Althus Rex

The blue and white blob got closer. It yelled at the top of its lungs, then charged straight at Muddy the Mudkip. The first second was spent gathering the stimuli from the environment. The second second was dedicated to processing it.

The third was the minute brain telling the body that there was danger in the area. And that actions should be taken to prevent his untimely demise. But how?

Mud rippled out from the heavy footsteps. Shakily, like a toddler or a drunk man, Mudkip leaped forward. He fell immediately onto his face. Buried in the mud, the senses no longer detected danger. Safety was in the mud. Danger was outside the–

No, danger could also be in the mud. Munchlax plucked him from where he sank. His body lit up with fear and danger, but it made no appearance in his body.

Well, it actually did. Because before Munchlax could get his teeth around the small creature, his body turned bright white. Then, it grew. Double in size and with so much potential. Limitless, some would say. This would be a new day for Muddy the Mudkip. No longer would he dwell in the mud. Sink into its dirty waters and bask in its warmth.

Intelligence was his, now. Brain power finally increased. Multiplied by a hundred, thousand– no, a MILLION fold. Such a multiplication had to go in the record books. Nothing had ever done it before. Even Arceus would quiver at the sight of this awkward, gangly creature holding the wisdom of all the gods combined.

“Marshtomp.”

Munchlax still bit into him, but now he was too big. He didn’t fit past the widest part of his jaws, let alone his stubby arms. The creature fell straight out and back into the mud. It was warm. Nice. Pleasant. Why leave?

Anything times zero is still zero.

---

Althus Rex  

Muddy the Mudkip, in all of his nonexistent wisdom, could only stare in the general direction of the Munchlax. There was no reason to move since it was not actively attacking him. Even as the Wooper was haplessly stolen from its muddy bath and became the next big snack, Muddy was too stupid to know what to do.

Survival instincts were where the train departed and arrived. Oh, and for warmth and food, but the daycare owners had fed them all earlier. And he was pretty warm right now…

“Mudkip.”

No, not that! Think! Anything at all! The wooper, which he didn’t know anything about, was going to be eaten by the nefarious Munchlax! Surely there was something to be done in the aid of his… the stranger.

“Muuuuuuuuuuu–”

Its jaw stayed wide open. Slowly, yet surely, water poured down into the brown slop. Even more incrementally, it picked up speed. After ten long, grueling seconds, a ring of water finally emerged. The Water Pulse sent the Wooper flying, straight past the fence and out into the wilderness.

“Mudkip.”

---

Althus Rex

Some Pokémon played with their fellow souls all around the daycare. It was a perfectly sunny day, and the air was filled to the brim with potential. Sounds of happy, estactic pokemon gave way to good vibes. Even as their trainers fought and died across the region, they did not understand such concepts. It was lost in the casual atmosphere, filled with the pleasent smell of fresh grass and whatever flowers still remained.

But for those a little... less knowledgeable. Without the natural intelligence of their fellow peers. Perhaps down a few pegs. Lacking some aspect of mental capacity. Dim lights, comparable to rocks. A little on the slow side. Missed the bus to school one too many times. Not the brightest star in the sky. Not the sharpest kn--

Fucking stupid, they're as fucking dense as a neutron star and fail to show enough signs to prove themselves non-conscisiable. Those pokemon-- well...

The Mud Pit:tm: was as good as place as any. That's where Muddy the Mudkip was. Muddy, squelching, in his lane, thriving. The Wooper and Clodsires showed more capacity than him, but he didn't let that bother him. He sat in the shallow part of The Mud Pit:tm: and basked in the warmth.

Not that it could bother him.

---

Althus Rex

While the Hyper Voice made him reel and brace himself with both arms across his head, Grigori pondered the circumstances. Should he feel better that he had the perfect opportunity to switch targets towards the more ‘capable’ foe? Or should he feel worse, that Rex was almost forced to take the aggression instead?

Definitely the latter. There was no way around it.

Alba was right. Rex was wrong. Keiko was right to be fearful. Afraid. Even as he lunged past the girl and towards the man with a rock in his palm, guilt wracked his bones. He didn’t want to do this. He just wanted to lay brick, toil underneath the hot sun, and begin to pay his karmic debts.

But fate had another plan.

CRUNCH! Even as the rock threatened to brain him, his fist sank cleanly into Rex’s chest. His other hand took hold of the stone and slammed the whole body part into his skull instead. Knuckles met bone, and the additional weight made it almost unbearable. He’d have a concussion.

Provided he lived. To finish off the start, his arms came back. Then, his body went forward instead. Rex would fly. It wouldn’t even be close. If he tried to stand up from this, he’d be lucky to not drop dead.

And to confirm Alba’s hypothesis, his mega band grew hot. Concern wrapped his body like the heat that once engulfed Scizor. But he’d have to be fine– he seemed almost excited. But when was he not, when given the opportunity to demolish all in front of his pincirs? Metal expanded, claws grew, and his form changed.

Mega Scizor absorbed the Hyper Voice just perfectly fine. And before the Mega Audino could react, and steely Bullet Punch erupted from the epicenter of the visible sound waves. A dangerous, violent, amused pair of eyes greeted the pink and white blob.

They wanted to be mega? He’d be mega alright.

Mega viscious.

---

Alba Evovae Althus Rex keiko mori

10 MP for post, However many MP for using Mega

Grigori did not share her view of the quip. “I was deemed too violent for it.”

Even here, when he pretended to play construction worker, he could not escape his abhorrent life. Not that he deserved any less– but if they could not intermix, then it would just be peachy. Infest his nightmares and restless nights. Not the most sacred hour of his day.

“Yes.”

He answered hot off the tail of her question. “Such a thing, with limitless potential? Dreams are a place of comfort, and wonder? I suspect there are very few people who would answer any different.”

Those who did either were ‘living the dream’ or were lying.

“But… I am unsure if such a thing will ever be possible,” he said. The passion left his voice, and he once more returned to the conversation. “Furthermore, from what I understand, the threads of our universe are tenuous at best. I fear of what may happen if we push upon them even further…”

Doomsdays, blights upon the vastness of Infinity. Arceus was long overdue to right the wrong that was their universe, if the DRK triad was to be believed. Perhaps dreams and fate were better left to the imagination than reality.

“How far would you go to make your research fruitful? What is the price you’d pay?”

Did Ameena run from something likewise?

---

ameena abadi

Lucky. Grigori. Sokolov.

He knew this was a familiar voice. Once the phantom identified himself, the pieces started to fall into place. He was at Dewford. He had journeyed with Howard to some faraway land. Done things that had no impact on the world. Yet they’d both changed. Grown. Become closer.

Which made the current situation impossibly more tense and difficult to navigate. Do his job and draw the ire of his boss, or don’t and put himself on a few thousand shit-lists?

“Depends on if they view it worthwhile,” he pushed through gritted teeth. “But odds point it to being more valuable as a trap. Plant explosives at the entrances and along each support column. Run a trip wire. Let the League kill themselves on it.”

The likes of Cillian Quinn or Zev Harcourt might call it treason to reveal such a plan. He considered it a negotiation. Spill, and he’d get out of here alive. Too much and Rocket would consider him a liability. The floor they tip-toed on had become a tight rope right beneath his nose.

“I elect we play telephone: your turn. What are you doing here? Sending an Elite four into dangerous territory is risky. Who knows what might happen to them?”

“Or did your friend Mr. Fox put you up for the task?”

His eyes narrowed sharply, and the air grew thick enough to cut with a knife.

---

@navy

10 MP for post