For all his brilliance, Grigori Sokolov had yet to learn.

Even he knew his outburst was unwarranted. Regret tainted his lips as Annalise dug into him, much like thorns of a rose. A much-deserved reprimand for his overstep of boundaries. She was right: all they shared before was a place to stay and a common friend.

And one of those sunk quietly into the sea, the waves gulping it up. Hungry. Desperate for more bridges to collapse and potential friends. He deserved even more than what he received, and for that, he should be thankful.

“You are right,” he whispered. Leather creaked as he finally rose. “I apologize. I let my emotions get the better of me.”

Far from the first, either.

Slowly, he shuffles across the floor. “And I’m sorry for ruining your day.”

“But June needs someone to watch over her,” he said. Strong, like life returned to his limbs. It was the only defense he could muster, a pittance for the rest of him that’d been battered blue. “Someone to fill the role of a guardian. Please continue to be her shoulder.”

“I will be the pillar she desperately needs until she can stand on her own two feet.”

Silently, he walked past and away from his former landlord. The door closed on him metaphorically, and regret clung to his frame as he contemplated what could’ve been. Alas, Grigori Sokolov did not deserve the kindness of better folk.

It would not save him from hell.

---

annalise henderson

Human interaction was a whole can of Orthworms on its own, as well as urban developments. How the wildlife reacted to the actions of humans could lead to an entire world of discovery. One that would not be spearheaded by Grigori, though. Perhaps, in another life. Or in a dream.

Funny how the world worked.

“None to you, I’m afraid,” he sighed and closed his eyes. If he tried hard enough, he could bring himself back to those moments. That untainted second life. One where he could look himself in the mirror. “The entirety of my life’s trajectory changed. I was an entirely different person. I became a researcher, even. A professor.”

Unshackled from my greatest mistake.

“But that’s all it was, for better or worse,” he reopened his eyes, older and more tired. Since when did those worry lines get there? “A dream. There are much younger, higher-spirited minds with even greater potential than this old man. Explore their minds instead.”

She did not need help in that department from him. It sounded like she’d explored plenty of mindscapes as was. Best not add another to the pile of ‘things to make right’.

“Speaking of, and if you’re willing to share… what sort of dreams piques your interest? Surely there are some recurring patterns that you enjoy seeing. Perhaps even your own?”

It was likely Ameena started her work from a personal interest. Even a glimmer of that own dream would be good enough for him. The spark of a flicker of flame.

---

ameena abadi

The humorless laugh was met with an even colder stare. What, did the sheriff reference a meme of some kind? Its point went entirely over the ‘fishermans’ head. Humor was far from what he desired.

If his enemy squinted, he might imagine an icy sheen that covered Grigori’s eyes. His poke ball did not lower, not even an inch. All signs pointed to imminent violence– but he did not let loose the creature within. Not yet.

His bones ached in the damp, and hesitated with the thought of violence. His conversation with howard slayte echoed in his mind like distant, intelligible noise did the hall. But even if he hated his organization, there was still a job to do.

“I’m finding lots of structural integrity flaws within the construction of this bunker,” he said flatly. “Things needed to be fixed or tampered with, depending on the desire of my bosses. No dangerous chemicals and the radiation clocks in at passive levels, though. It is merely the fault of flimsy half-measures that compromise everything.”

Half-measures were the devil’s playground. It led to many unnecessary deaths, all to save half a day. Maybe it worked for the people during Meteno, but it would not suit anyone now.

“While I may not be an expert of architecture and building safety, I advise you once more to leave.”

“Now.”

---

Navy

10 MP for post
50 MP for meaningful ping of another character
50 MP for reference to a previous thread

120 MP total

Grigori’s head snapped back when the Hitmontop pressed its strong hands into his skull. It hurt like hell and sent the man reeling. It’d bought the two of them precious time, time they would desperately need. Even has his body reeled, instincts kicked in faster. He stopped, then looked upward.

Unfortunately for the pair, little did they know of the monster that soon pulled out his own Poke ball. His arm windmilled to chuck it against the ground, like a pitch gone wrong. It clicked open, and from the blinding red light came an even redder creature.

Click-clacks filled the air, and Scizor peered dangerously at the troubled leaves. “Scizor! Stop their Pokémon!”

Click-clack. A grin emerged, and his wings vibrated violently. Before the glorified top could act, he rushed forth. At the last second, he turned around and unleashed a violent assault of wings upon his foe. Dual Wingbeats clobbered Hitmontop from both sides with surprising force.

As long as they could not protect their trainer, then that was all that mattered. Grigori burst forward, as fast as his body would allow. Greenery shook, and the jangle of bobbers only became louder. Before long, their sizeable head start was little more than a foot in a mile. 

They would see him burst through the greenery with a deadly glint in his eyes– alongside a hint of fear. What did have to fear?

Simple. Himself.

“RABBIT! SLOW THEM DOWN!”

Before he was forced to act.

---

Alba Evovae keiko mori Althus Rex

10 MP for Post
50 MP for getting injured by Hitmontop
50 MP for describing poke ball throwing style
170 MP Total

Grigori took the hand, happy to have the help with his wobbly legs. But once he stood on them, they solidified like concrete. He was familiar with that material– all it took was some time, and it was hard as stone. “It is not a problem. But perhaps warn me about the threat next time.”

“Though I suppose Yveltal paid your due in kind,” he turned to the distant mountain, following Temp’s guiding finger. One part of him said the trip was for nothing, and they’d nearly died without reason. But it couldn’t be further from the truth.

“Perhaps… it’s looking for a purpose? A reason,” Grigori offered. “As for what that might be… I could not tell you why.”

Maybe it knew that someone was on the prowl for it. Specifically looking for its ghoulish powers and awful potential. Its own sixth sense, much like Temp’s.

“But, if you are confident in your assessment, then there is little reason for us to stay here and look for ghosts,” he adjusted the position of his bag as he turned away from the mountain. “You should prepare yourself for what might trouble you in the near future.”

And let the construction worker live his own life, he added mentally. No need to foul the air when it was plenty foul already.

---

Tempest Quinn

How did one keep them from falling, yet get down in the same breath? A physically impossible feat for many, and almost impossible for even more. But for Grigori, it was but a difficulty to be overcame, a problem to be solved. Scizor made sure they did not stop their trek. Grigori made sure they did not slow Scizor down.

Barely, just barely, he kept them off the ground. It took all is muscular strength and capabilities. Even a man such as himself struggled with the monumental task. Yet as the Dhelmise came out and flooded the area with ghastly energy, Grigori did just that. Scizor lifted them as he lifted Temp.

Feet constantly pushed off the ‘ground’, and they did their best to ignore the tilted bridge. Gravity was strong, but they had to be stronger. Thus, they were. There was no option for it– to fail was to die.

Thankfully, there was a place to aim for. The massive hole breached in the side of their attacker proved to be the perfect place to escape. With all his might, Scizor carried them up and over, over, until–

Fresh air engulfed the trio as they emerged from the hole. Grigori and his Pokemon kept them attached to Duraludon as they exited and scaled the creature. Yet the end was in sight. Ground only got closer as they went further. While the Duraludon threatened to finally sink into the depths of the gulf, Grigori shoved the two forward.

Scizor collapsed onto the ground, and the grunt was quick to follow.

They were safe. Somehow.

---

Tempest Quinn

Grigori stared at the mess. Blood invaded his nostrils with its thick, copper stench. It was all over his hands. His boots. No matter where he looked, he saw the crimson he’d come to loath. His lungs heaved in the contaminated air with reckless abandon, and his muscles begged for relief. A dry, cracked tongue tried to form words.

“H.Q… threat… neutralized.”

“Copy that, Fisher. Make sure they were alone.”

“... Understood.”

Click. He tore the earpiece from his head and let it fall to the ground. There wouldn’t be a need for it for the rest of the night. In the pale glow of diminishing sunlight, even he could see that it’d been a small recon party. Two people, each of them with plenty of fight in their bones.

Little more than victims of war, now.

“Alba Evovae … Grab their things. Experience tells me that they were acting alone. No need to–”

Grigori whipped his head around. Two dangerously blue orbs peered into the cover of shade, desperate to pinpoint the disturbance. Eventually, they narrowed on a distant opening in the space. Lots of tall grass and shrubs obstructed his vision, but battle-trained senses told him better.

“Who goes there?"

---

Alba Evovae keiko mori Althus Rex
10 MP for post
50 MP for Regrettable Decision (Killing people (again))

Grigori’s attention was fully diverted upon the sliding of the hidden wall. He waited silently for the hit squad to find him and finally put an end to his life. Even if he’d taken the role of bunker inspector, it was still a Rocket job. League didn’t seem the type to take him prisoner in these trying times.

Easier to kill him.

But death never came. Instead, the quiet thump of boots descended downward. The grunt peered around the corner, breath caught in his lungs. Escape would be a piece of cake: turn around, and simply pretend he was never there.

But duty would not let him. He had promised to inspect this place. He’d promised to help Rocket all those moons ago. Thus, he crept forward. His only giveaway was the soft jangle of fishing lures.

And if he hadn’t followed him almost directly, he’d be as hopelessly lost as the sheriff would claim.

“I’m inclined to agree,” Grigori said suddenly. If Navy turned around, he’d see a disguised fisherman with numerous construction and safety tools peppered around his person. He held his own Poke ball, but not even a single weapon. One might think him stupid.

“Perhaps you should leave, then. Before you get lost.”

Others would think him highly dangerous. Which was the stranger?

---

@navy

10 MP for post

That… was the first person he attempted to decipher the research of. After several long sessions in a Moped’s coffee lobby and two packs of highlighters, he’d given up. In his defense, it came off the back of the blood moon incident– hard times for the man. “Naturally, of course.”

And that no matter what happened, it’d be abused and manipulated to become a weapon against the League. That’d killed his interest as well.

“The world is progressing fast, but it is a ritual we’ve engaged in for our entire existence,” Grigori offered. “At first, it was about how to grow crops better, how to construct structures for safety, then how to tame Pokémon. We are fools, but we are intelligent, capable fools.”

At the question of his own interest, Grigori crossed his arms and stroked his chin. What a simple yet impossibly difficult question to answer. Not only had he never been a proper member of the scientific community, but he did not even hold a high school diploma under his belt. What did he know about the field?

“If I had the chance, I’d do something with Pokémon– maybe their ecosystems, perhaps? I know not the proper term for the field,” he admitted. “Stay on my feet, active, get to be around the wildlife.”

He looked more like a fool with every second spent on his interests. “But I do not. Such is the way my life has progressed. What of you, then? Surely there must be some defining event that lead you to choose the field of dreams as your sole focus. Enough to block other avenues of interest.”

Yet hopefully her interest did not develop as Lulu Flint ’s had. His own experience with her had been unnerving and recounts from Howard only further exemplified the visage.

---

ameena abadi

“Fisher reporting. Initial impressions are promising– going down to further examine structural integrity.”

“Understood, Fisher. Remember, radio won’t work down there– shoot your flare at the first sign of trouble. Rather waste our time than waste your life.”

“Loud and clear.”

Grigori unhooked his earpiece and descended down the dusty steps. Mildew and mold covered the side of the dingy stair case. Concrete steps for a concrete bunker. To think, something like this was only one mortar round beneath their feet. It’d been hollowed out by a few Excadrill, and all that was left to do was determine its viability as a secret base.

If good, then Rocket would establish it for ambushes, recon hide outs, or whatever else the war demanded of it. If not?

They’d rig it with mines and let the League kill themselves on it. His sparkling pride was slowly becoming yet another asset to Rocket's desire for death and destruction. 

“Audio log of Fisher, September XX, XXXX,” he spoke as he ducked beneath the low ceiling. An L.E.D light cut through the darkness like a blade. Much further in, he could see another staircase that rose to the surface. Besides that, it was little more than a long, narrow hallway than a proper bunker. All except one rotten wood door in the middle of it all.

“As expected, not much to the imagination,” he kicked the first pillar. All it accomplished was a loud clang against his steel-capped boots. He kept an eye to the ceiling as he approached the second pilar. Same thing. “Initial inspect of support beams is satisfactory enough. Reinforcement will keep them stable for elongated use.”

“No black molds or otherwise dangerous flora, our Pokemon deterrents appeared to have work.”

Grigori pulled out a yellow plastic rectangle. It gave the occasionally unnerving beep from passive radiation, but little more. “Radiation levels are below danger levels.”

“Inspecting central storage room,” he spoke softly into the receiver. The earth had rotted away the door, yet it had not fully dissolved the plaque that hung by its side. He hissed, then grit his teeth. A gas mask was pulled from his pack and he slowly strapped the stuffy thing to his scarred face. 

“NFPA rating of three, two, four outside of room. Given its placement, likely a potent explosive. It must be removed before renovations can start. Starting preliminary examination now."

He gently pushed on door, yet the wood was too far gone. It sank underneath his fingers, as dense as cotton candy. Shortly after, the rest of the structure collapsed softly. He cringed when it plopped on the ground. 

---

Caleb Harcourt

10 MP for Post

Things were very much not fine. All it would take was a single slip, then they were both dead. Lost to the belly of a massive beast. No one would even find their corpses. “We will not make it if we run!”

“Scizor, please!”

Scizor nodded, then pivoted away from going deeper. Instead, it Blazed a Trail down the tongue and straight to the two men. With careful yet quick precision, both were gripped roughly by the collar. Grigori nearly fumbled his grip on the gear as they were plucked from the safety of the hole.

And even still, their feet skid off the ground. They were half-dragged-half-carried back the way they came. The grunt could do little but try not to slow them down. Ahead, the dim light grew dimmer as the jaw started closing. Safety and death were but the mere difference between five and six seconds.

The former let them live, and the latter damned them to the hell they belonged. “Mr. Quinn, we’re not going to make it! Do you have nothing to help us?”

---

Tempest Quinn

Something nudged his leg. Grigori slowly opened his tired eyes to see two orbs peer at him from above. Filled with life, curiosity, and a sense of adventure. Some part of him hoped his eyes still held even a fraction of those, but he knew they didn't. Couldn't. Let the young keep their vigor and youth, for they would one day lose it.

When had he lost his? 

Regardless, a ruby red and milk white sphere emerged from his side. With a gentle tap, the button poked the Anorith. It disappeared right after, and it did not even shake before it clicked.

There were no other disturbances for the remainder of his time in the Great Chasm.

---

Catch attempt on Anorith