Grigori raised a curious eyebrow. “Is that so? Then shouldn’t the weather be worse in the distance?”

Not suspicious, he desperately convinced himself. All around was beautiful skies with white, puffy clouds and nary a hint of looming darkness. If she was going to lie, then it was important to make it a believable one. Sharpedo or Veluza threats were more common in these parts.

He would know. He actually frequented these parts. Hell, half the time it was his own two hands that helped mitigate their threats with his trusty fishing pole. It sat across the benches, long and heavy with line.

“But… if you say that there is a problem, then an escort might be necessary,” he reluctantly said. “I was…”

Fuck. Not the way to start that sentence. “On my way home, yet wanted to do a little fishing. The best spot is further yonder,” he motioned the way Melody had come from. "Many a rare fish not seen in Hoenn. Migrating breeds. If you're lucky, even a Wailord and her young..."

Ultimately, his desire was to not get arrested (at best). No point to tempt fate with insistence of her lie. But why lie at all? Was there something afoot in the sea?

Was the League plotting something?

---

Melody Miro

Lightning struck. Xurkitree, empowered, overloaded, launched its Zap Cannon to pierce the heavens. The world disappeared in a flash of blinding light. And then, the rock beneath him gave way. Kyogre’s Origin Pulse was the very tumultuous force of nature itself, and few were spared beneath its oppressive force.

He did not disappear with fanfare, on a high note or a low one. One moment he was there, and the next he was gone. Swept out to sea, taken out of the race by the newly birthed god. Water attempted to pull him beneath the waves, yet he resisted all the same.

When his head emerged above the surface, there was nothing defining nearby. Not structure or feature that stood out. A wall of water, an outcrop of stone. Where was Sootopolis?

Where was he?

His Relicanth reemerged as he tried to make sense of the new world left in the wake of the will of Kyogre.

---

Tl;dr
 - After his attack, the waters sweep him away due to the Origin Pulse
 - gluglugljlgbbglhglhguhghluguh
 - Reemerges into somewhere on the G Tile
 - Relicanth save him

kLmr|zwB

PURCHASING/REDEEMING

welcome to the poké mart!

1X Watering Pail (200 PD)
2X Passho Berry (700 PD)
1X Colbur Berry (50 PD)

HARVESTING

be sure to visit the pretty petal flower shop near rustboro!

TOTAL

do come again!

950 PD

Despite the way his heart beat from who saved him, to the millions of close calls, to the roar of time and explosion of energy to the rumbling of stone and the miniature calm before the true monsoon that stood before them to the chaos and the commands and the cries and the torrential downpour and the cold and the sheer noise–

Grigori’s heart stopped. She knew. Her muffled words were loud and clear, and the world deafened beneath them. She knew. His bones tingled beneath the cold weight of his clothes and the wet hat that soaked his scalp. Where had the girl he left behind a few hours ago gone?

He did not know her, because she’d disappeared somewhere. In her place stood a proper adult. One he swayed to a terrorist organization. Something caught in his throat. An apology? The truth? Congratulations, maybe?

It did not matter. Time did not allow for a touching moment. Before he could say anything, she was gone again. Back into the wild to do whatever it was she had to do. Her heart demanded action, resolution, and it would seek it whatever way possible. Either the problem would resolve itself, or her heart stopped.

Which one was more terrifying, and would keep him up until the sun rose above the treeline?

It did not matter. It never did. Because as he watched her disappear into the storm, a trail of yellow left in her wake, realization dawned. This pang in his chest, this abnormal desire. Its source stood in plain view. Stared him in the eye. Avatars turned their sights to Kyogre, as too did his bosses and his bosses bosses.

Taboo turned to reality. One last key player emerged from his belt. Bundled in black wires and with a head as spiked as the explosions that rocked the sky, a lone Xurkitree emerged to his side. Envy pierced his heart, yet he’d never known the feeling so well. How it hurt him so.

He wanted to help. Do good. Truly. Not his aimless wandering, not the worrisome nights and half-acts of kindness that plagued him and haunted his limbs with inaction. Sootopolis was doomed. Soon enough, the waters would submerge even the rock he was left on. It hurt harder than imaginable.

The second Kanto had arrived. His shoulders sagged especially low. But the desire to save even a single soul by stopping the beast was too strong. Lighting cracked the sky and illuminated them better than the heavens ever could. Cables extended to the sky, in an attempt to harness the power of the gods.

If only so he could save one soul. Just one. It was all he asked. Could Arceus grant him this one little, measly favor?

Thunder thrummed. And if it dared to grace the Xurkitree next to him, he’d point furiously at the beast that took his one chance to do good. Truly. A fire reignited in his heart that had extinguished upon his arrival in Hoenn.

“ZAP CANNON!”

---

Tl;dr
 - Oh fuck she knows
 - And now she's gone again
 - When did she grow up?
 - When will Grigori?
 - Today, hopefully.
 - Grigori releases his Xurkitree, which extends its arms upwards to hopefully draw electricity towards it
 - If it manages to catch a stray bolt, then it'll use the energy to 'empower' a Zap Cannon straight for the Kyogre
 - (oh also at H2 on the crater wall)

07SAzeod

There were many calls to action, ideas on what to do. How to proceed given such dire and chaotic circumstances. In every other timeline, he would’ve listened. Obeyed. Defended the Dyna-Tree, grouped up, helped his fellow Rockets. Behaved like the good little grunt he was.

But… something stirred in his heart. A call to action, but guided by another hand. A sinful desire. Envy clutched his limbs and sent his hands against the Braviary to the side. “Fisher, reporting in! I have a clear, uninterrupted visual on the Kyogre! I repeat, please–”

But it didn’t matter. Whether it was the flap of its monstrous wings, the torrential rains that smothered all his senses, or the pandemonium of nearby trainers– something shifted his seat. His grip failed. Soon enough, his legs left the comfort of the saddle straps and open air swallowed him whole.

“NO!”

His arms desperately leapt forward, and outstretched fingers wished they could extend to the straps. But they missed by mere centimeters. Braviary could only watch as its trainer fell from on high and plummeted to the rocky waters below.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He was going to look like the monstrous Zev Harcourt , capable and strong. Or the hateful jayden cross , who sought revenge no matter the cost. Instead, he looked like a stupid grunt. Unpolished, untalented. He amounted to nothing, and no one would notice him drown.

Thus, he tried. But the waters swallowed him whole and submerged him in the frigid aquatic world. Waves tried to keep him down, but he fought nature itself. He just had to get something to help. Anything. A Pokémon, a person, a…

A streak of lightning, a blip on the horizon in the corner of his eye. Closer and closer, as close as the sea level that rose. Until–

---

Tl;dr
 - Grigori thinks about following orders from the likes of Cillian Quinn , but ultimately decides against it
 - Asks for more help but is rudely interrupted by the Kyogre
 - Falls into the waters below
 - But only for a moment until he is saved by...
 - (SHIV HAS GIVEN ME SPECIAL PERMISSION TO DO THIS, IT IS AN EXCEPTION RATHER THAN THE NORM AND IS NOT EXPECTED TO BE ALLOWED A SECOND TIME)

LbdQEn_D

His heart rose slightly from its cavernous pit once Zev said what he did. He was suspecting and bracing for a ‘leave no survivors’ or something alike, but this? An entirely welcome change of pace. They were the enemy, but not so much as to warrant immediate execution to their cause.

But to say that would be suicide in the literal sense. Instead, he nodded to himself and set down the second gas can. Ethanol invaded his nostrils and senses, but it was easy enough to signal the Chandelure to light the room up. As it did so, he walked over and took the collar of the unconscious nurse.

“Understood. Fire started, will be outside shortly.”

Flames took hold immediately. Smoke trickled out, but soon enough turned into an oppressive cloud that followed him outside. Pokemon began to howl, and he walked past the cages. The nurses could get them out in time. Maybe. Hopefully.

And soon enough, the fire alarms followed.

“Start the van.”

Chairs scrapped against the tile, and the nurses rushed out of the break room. “What the–”

But they had no time to question him, the stranger who dropped the luggage and burst into a sprint. Down the hall, and he took a turn straight into the wall.

“Stop right there! Did you do this?!”

His head snapped around. Only the corner of his eye could meet their gaze, hard and cruel. Confused. Shocked. It stung his brain and fried his nerves. Several long seconds ensared him, and only the rattle of cages and yelling from the third nurse broke him from its spell. He tried to form words, a threat, a promise, anything. Instead--

“I-I'm sorry.”

He didn’t wait for their response. He banked towards the exit and shoved it open roughly. Sirens jumped in volume as the door slowly closed. Thankfully, he did not hear footsteps. Zev would not hear the passenger door open, but the back door instead.

“Go!”

I'm sorry? Why did he say that?

---

Zev Harcourt

Braviary emerged from the lip of the crater. As they gain more and more distance above, and then down, there’s only one thing to think: war. It’s come, and it will hold no quarter. Take no prisoners. Literally.

The water has risen. Substantially. While gods fight betwixt themselves and people battle on the streets, it is the defenseless that struggle. His heart swelled, but not for the bloodlust that surely drove half the people present. At a small Galarian cafe, where he talked with Lulu Flint about the dream mist, he recalled something.

“I just hope those without a foot in the race aren’t crushed beneath the steps of the giants.”

And here, there be giants.

“Dive, dive!” He pointed straight towards the Kyogre, and the Braviary cawed above the monsoon as it obeyed. There was still quite the distance between them, and the beast was massive. Too big for their measly frames. He… needed something. Anything. A leg up, grace from a god, a giant gun, anything.

The people could not run, for the sea itself threatened to submerge the crater from the outside. They had to stop the beast. He saw the attacks fly its way, yet none of them truly worked. Everyone had eyes for it, or the old vendettas given flesh.

But none on himself–yet. Probably how he made it as far as he did. A hand went to his earpiece, “THIS IS FISHER, I HAVE VISION OF THE KYOGRE. IN THE NORTHEAST, RAPIDLY HEADING SOUTHWEST TO INTERCEPT! PLEASE ADVISE ON HOW TO STOP!”

Even as he loathed his superiors for their… wanton ignorance of human rights, they also held the power to actually put a dent in the creature. He couldn’t do this alone. Not with what he had on his belt and in his head.

Unless…

---

Tl;dr

 - Please don't kill me Mr. Shiv I --ACK

 - Notices that the water is slowly rising both inside and outside the city

 - Dives from D2 to F3 in the air

 - Calls for advice from ANY of the Rockets willing to offer it via radio

Qcg9UL_4

So he had the opportunity given to him. Absolutely perfect. One half of his mind sighed in relief. Thank goodness for even the opportunity to make things right. It would’ve been all too easy for her to demand he leave. Banish her from her house, never to return except to gather his things.

Yet the other half of him begged what he could possibly say now. Explain that he saw his roommates good friend’s father’s corpse? Below a copy of himself, no less? Preposterous. Immeasurably stupid.

But the truth. One that’d get him killed. Suicide. And he’d promised against suicide.

Yet he couldn’t lie. Ethically and due to obligations. He scratched his left arm.

“It was due to that one man’s aura– whatever it had been,” he started off. The truth. Others could theoretically corroborate the event. Jayden’s power had caused him to hallucinate. To see something that wasn’t there.

“I saw something from my past, something I never wanted to relive,” he said. The truth. “I thought I was back at a critical moment.”

Another truth.

“I…”

If only he could keep telling those. Much easier, in a sense. They could be verified, and left people sure that his words meant something. Unfortunately, he had to delve back into his bag of tricks.

“I saw myself standing over a corpse.”

Truth. A sigh escaped his lips, and his hands went for the instinctive nurture of a coffee cup.

“It’s not something I tell people. Not even June. I…”

“I’ve killed, Annalise.” Truth.

“My father was not a good man.” Obscured, misleading, irrelevant, absolutely not connected– fact. Undeniably so. "Alcoholic. Dead beat. Wasted our money. After some point, started to..."

Hopefully her imagination could fill in the blanks. It was better that way. He turned a cautious eye to her, then back to the black steam that evaporated from his mug.

---

annalise henderson

His heart stopped dead in his chest. Every single nerve and muscle in his body went stiff, and his arms ceased their motion mid-row. A million different thoughts raced through his mind, and each one worse than the last. Why did he decide to row back home, away from Sootopolis?

Play it cool, Grigori. You had not only an excuse, but a reason. A perfectly reasonable one. Best of all, it wasn’t even a lie. Cold, hard truth would have to get him out of this predicament.

Was it even a predicament at this point? Perhaps not. Yet the sudden appearance of a pink-haired girl atop a Noivern was not on his ‘people to talk with’ list. This was the first time someone ever found him here, of all places. Anyone he didn’t know and wasn’t a part of Rocket.

“Good afternoon,” Grigori raised a gentle hand. Even in the face of sudden adversity, he kept his fingers steady. A fishing rod dangled out the back of his meager rowboat, and a tackle box on the seat in front of him. Surprisingly, it was a bottle of water that sat alongside it rather than a cooler filled to the brim with cold beer.

“Wonderful weather for fishing,” he said as casually as one possibly could. A subjective statement. Impossible to be a lie. “Would you agree?”

---

Melody Miro

Elisabeth was among the most astute within Rocket’s ranks. Her conclusions were succinctly on point, to a scary degree. The fight continued on, but it was more akin to a punching bag training session rather than a proper brawl. Dark matter continued to fly from the shadow form as Grigori finally started to finish what was started.

Anger carried him forward, but it was ultimately the frustration within that gave him the strength for the final blow. His fist sank into the ‘flesh’, and everything disappeared. Like a poof of smoke, a stiff breeze, the darkness went away.

He gulped air greedily. His body sank backwards, and he grabbed the wall for support. Bones ached and flesh desired rest. Physically, he would recover. his wounds had yet to fail even that task. And when they did, he wouldn’t be much further behind.

It was clear what the Underboss wanted. Him to break. His submission. Admittance of defeat. Something he could never verbally give her. Trials and tribulations were what he deserved, but not a step more.

That’s why he pushed himself from the wall and looked around the ceiling. Up. Which one had he come from?

Did it matter? “Ms. Fiorelli. I’ve completed the training. What now?”

---

Elisabeth Fiorelli

Cold nothing greeted him as his eyes rapidly fluttered open. Everything was weird. Not real. Something flowed around him freely, and a hard object shoved itself into his shoulder. Suddenly, it didn’t feel as weird. It felt painful. Tiring. Something told him to wake up.

So, he did.

Something greeted him alright– chaos.

He looked backward. Relicanth had shoved him onto the beach to the best of its ability. It shimmied around for a moment before it swam away. Not to run away, but to await its spherical home. Grigori’s ached arm complied, and a flash of red swallowed it whole. But he couldn’t hear it.

It was almost impossible to hear anything over the deafening rain. It slammed into the sea, beach, and even his own skin with ferocious intensity. Like a monsoon, or a hurricane. It was the season for it after all. Much like war, storms came and went and left thousands devastated in their wake.

So what happened when the sea itself decided to take matters into its own hands? Cause destruction on a city-wide scale and destroy everything? Even with the impossibly hard rain and harsh vision, it was literally impossible to ignore the rumbles of stone and howls of wind.

Kyogre had breached Sootopolis, and her people would drown.

Thus, he started to pull himself further towards the city. He had to help the people. Stop Kyogre. Forget the war, forget the factions. None of it mattered if there was nothing left to fight over.

Unfortunately, someone called to him from behind. On a Mega-Lapras sat a familiar face. Barbed thorns bit into his flesh.

“Preventing a second Kanto,” he called back thoughtlessly. Brick had protected him to ensure he could do the right thing. This was right. Natural. Odd. Something tugged at his heart– a soothing, gentle feeling. Despite the rage and chaos and pandemonium and cries of death and despair he imagined, his heart felt right.

Right? That couldn’t be right. It should be filled with sticky blood and barbed wire and desire. Not ease. Not now. Why?

It didn’t matter. He continued to pull himself up, and then gave up. He wouldn’t get anywhere on foot or hand. Another Poke Ball flashed red, and a fierce Braviary emerged. It leaned a wing to assist Grigori, who clambered on with the grace of a drunk sailor.

“If you don’t wish to know how it feels to have a thousand souls screaming your name from the depths of hell, you will not stop me.”

He tried to fly away. Up the walls, above the skies, and to the Kyogre. He did not know how to stop it– yet. But he had to. It was the only choice.

Maybe the life of a city would clean his slate?

---

Tl;dr
 - Wakes up to death and despair and chaos
 - Sees that Kyogre has fucked the shit all up
 - Crawls seventeen inches before Caleb Harcourt calls to him
 - Feels peaceful, which is stupid and dumb and not good
 - Tells the ranger off before climbing aboard a Braviary and beginning to ascend the walls and survey the scene of destruction
 - Going from Top of G1 to Bottom of G1

RpZ4WAGo

BATTLE OF SOOTOPOLIS MAIN EVENT

SIGN-UP

OOC NAME: Rysa[break]
CHARACTER: Grigori Sokolov [break]
FACTION: rocket[break]
POKEMON PARTY (MAX 6) the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the (same as before minus druddigon)[break]

NOTES/COMMENTS: I leave it in your hands.