Some of the more eager participants were the first to speak up, and he couldn't help but notice the mirth that most of the other contestants beamed with. Eyes squinted into amused crescents as he took a step forward and a polite bow to mirror a sense of enthusiasm to be there. Once he stood back up, a glass with a mysterious pink liquid oozed itself out and onto the counter. But as it took form, it seemed to be the Ditto that Schuyler had made his boba brewing partner. The blob blinked a few times as though it had attempted to adjust to the bright lights within the kitchen setup.

"Finn Charbonneau, and this is my partner Ditto. This is my first time attempting to brew boba tea of my own, so please bear with me. I hope we can appease your tastebuds."

He wanted to keep his introduction short and sweet. It wasn't long until he took to his station and cleaned his hands and insisted the Ditto on the kitchenette do the same. Its stubby limbs soaked into the water and lathered themselves with the utmost care. Unlike most, it seemed odd that this Ditto didn't seem to have its dumb smile. Instead its mouth drew into a flat line as though it seemed to concentrate. As the pair flipped through a cookbook, Schuyler pointed at one particular recipe and the Ditto gave a simple "ito" as a reply.

A splash of chocolate syrup was added to accent the cup first and foremost. Tapioca pearls were poured carefully into a cup and then met with a black tea base. Vanilla almond milk blended with the tea, and soon flavors of strawberry and banana were blended into the mixture. Perhaps on the sweeter side, he hoped that the blend would be enough to impress.

"A simple strawberry banana split treat meant to offer a sense of childlike wonder. I opted for almond milk in place of regular milk to hopefully compliment the strawberry and banana."

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@bubble tea brewing showdown

"Whoa."

The rift that had formed so suddenly seemed enormous. It appeared as though something had attempted to rip its way free. Schuyler reached a hand out to touch the rift, but it seemed his hand met solid rock of the mountainside instead of whatever space lay beyond. But as he stared deeper into the abyss, he swore he could hear a voice that called for him.

Though curiosity reached out for him, now wasn't the time. Instead, he turned his attention to his Goodra and gave a nod.

"Go ahead."

The Goodra stepped forward and placed a piece of a Turquoise crystal before the rift as its offering. Schuyler thought it best to bring something to represent what they believed created the rifts. Whispers of Giratina beyond them and the distortion world were spread like wildfire. While he found nothing that could symbolize antimatter, it seemed after hours of research, he found that Turquoise was apparently a crystal of bad luck. While he didn't believe in the practice of crystals himself, the gesture that it was for Giratina still remained.

After all, omens surrounded a handful of Sinnoh's patrons.

Goodra forgets Rain Dance and learns Shadow Sneak!
Time : 12:21 pm est

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griseous gulf

Unfortunately the Nidoking took to dismembering the body. As Schuyler witnessed, the more cooperative veneer he'd held up seemed to vanish as he simply stared as flesh and bone became malleable. His pulse quickened, whether out of fear, excitement, or something else entirely. He could hardly hear the way tissue and muscle ripped and tore over the beat of his heart like a drum in his ears. Even with the lack of resistance from a corpse, he noted it still took plenty of force. Bones snapped like twigs under the Nidoking's might, popping and twisting from their respective connective tissue. It was almost a shock to his system when Zev spoke up once again. The blonde felt himself snap back to reality and looked to him with a chuckle to attempt to ease the tension in that moment.

"Right, my interest," he acknowledged finally. "I guess the topic of death just leaves me curious. Lives are kind of like books to a degree -- they end eventually. Some are longer than others. The only difference is that we can't go back and re-read a life. But after all we experience, is that really it? Does that story truly end?"

The way he spoke reflected an interest in what possibly lay after death. Everyone has wondered it at some point. Maybe Schuyler was just a bit more obsessive on the topic. Once the work was done, he looked down to his Ditto and jerked his head in the direction of the Nidoking. The Ditto complied and transformed to carry some of the remnants of what used to be a living, breathing person.

"Besides, I write a lot of horror. I want to make things realistic and challenge people to read beyond what makes them comfortable."

Life had a way of throwing uncomfortable and devastating situations without warning at others. To the author, it was the way of weeding out the weak. If they couldn't manage through it, then the universe would cull them respectively. The notepad still gripped in the palm of the writer's hand fell closed so he could pocket it. The spiral of it stuck out of the top of his back pocket but otherwise fit. Without another word, Schuyler followed his Nidoking-transformed Ditto (which notably lacked the dark aura that the other pokemon carried -- maybe it was the bulbous eyes or something more.)

What portions they carried were buried deep. Notably the pair focused on burying the half they took among already dug graves. (In all fairness, they'd already witnessed the dismemberment. What was defiling a couple graves along the way? Besides, what kind of do-gooder would want to dig up another grave in case there might be traces of a fresh murder there?) As the pair worked, Schuyler kept his focus to himself and his Nidoking-Ditto. He'd keep his end of the bargain and give Zev the opportunity to bury his half elsewhere.

In the meantime, he removed the silver watch off of the bloodied limb and gave a hum. It looked expensive, the victim must've been someone of opulence or importance. But it wasn't his to keep. Besides, the thing already looked broken, as the clock face was cracked in a variety of places and the hands had come to a complete stop. With a shrug, Schuyler threw it into the open maw of his pokemon and allowed it to crunch down on the jewelry.

With their part of the work complete, Schuyler returned to where the two had first come across one another. His back turned to the opposite direction as he attempted to pick the dirt from under his fingernails that had accumulated.

"Since we're sharing details about ourselves, I don't think I ever got a name for you," he mentioned in a laissez-faire fashion.

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Zev Harcourt

The man offered a fair point. What if he were to go squeal after the body was disposed? The only proper answer Schuyler could give was a simple one. He withdrew his Pangoro and instead opted for a much simpler option. The Ditto of his party oozed out of its pokeball, its beady eyes a dead stare as it looked upon its trainer. Schuyler glanced from the Ditto, to the corpse, and cocked his head in direction of it. It was almost a wordless command as the slime-like creature began to inch its way towards the body.

"We can dismember it and split it up among the both of us," he offered. "That way we won't know where the other buried the rest. If you so desire, to save the effort of breaking bones, this little guy can slip into any orifice and began to disconnect them."

How did he know that? It wasn't exactly a secret he was keen on revealing. (Had this actually been his first dead body? It was hard to say. The way he reacted and spoke so calmly about the situation seemed suspicious -- he could understand Zev's hesitation.) Though rather than continue to be all talk, he figured it best to shoot the man a question that would hopefully break the ice:

"Or better yet, how about you tell me what you want me to do to prove that I won't say anything? Besides, I think everyone's a bit occupied with whatever's happening near Dewford Town to really give a shit about one dead body."

The sudden land formation from the tectonic shift became a war ground for either side to fight for. Part of him remained eager to see which side would win, but he wouldn't hold his breath. The League had been falling behind. Maybe they were too focused on rehabilitating some of the criminals that fell into their hands rather than actually giving two shits about the place they called home? Schuyler didn't care much for the kumbaya power of friendship bullshit that some of them tried to pursue. Once a criminal, always a criminal.

At least he could respect the idea of Team Rocket. They knew and acknowledged they did wrong, and didn't try to cover it up by claiming the idea of the greater good or some high-road morality spiel.

"Name's Schuyler. Schuyler Tate. So then if you've gotta come after me, you know who you're looking for."

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Zev Harcourt