Oscar was hopeful about Aurelie's speculation, because an unspoken alternative idea had his anxiety spiking. The gashes in the rocks were massive, with their trajectory and proximity making them look similar to claw marks. Were these done by a giant pokemon? Was that pokemon still around?

Normally Oscar would excited to find such a specimen, but for reasons beyond him he felt uneasy. Similarly, he felt unusually anxious about scaling down the cliff-face. What if they fell and hurt themselves? Or what if there was a landslide? Or what if--

Oscar abruptly slapped himself, before patting his cheeks and letting out a deep breath. This worrying was not like him, and he would not let it ruin his adventure of discovery! Oscar nodded to Aurelie, "Yes! We had better get started before something worse comes upon us. Vlad keep up!" Oscar grabbed the handholds and began climbing down, taking deep and steady breaths to ward off intrusive thoughts of fear. Vlad hovered nearby, confused about why his master did not just glide down. The great bat would not understand, he just loved fighting too much.

When they were most of the way down, a strange clicking would draw Oscar's attention. He dared to look down, discovering that they were getting pretty close to the ground. He could probably jump from here, if he was brave enough to twist himself in mid-air to maneuver a rolling landing. He was currently not, for the record. His eyes journeyed toward the source of the noise, which seemed to be a twisted version of Jigglypuff. Oscar tilted his head as he stared at the creature, wondering what it wanted.

He would not have to wait long for an answer, as the being would open its mouth and let out a horrible shock-wave of sound (Hyper Voice). A shocked Vlad covered his ears as he fell out of the sky, while the cliff that Oscar clung to began to rattle. Oscar looked up, and yelled out as he spotted rocks falling upon him. "Jump!" he shouted, hoping that Aurelie would follow his lead. Oscar leapt backward, barely dodging the rocks before falling like a stone himself onto the ground.

He luckily did not fall far, but the landing was not ideal. He felt a sharp pain run up through his back, and Oscar would howl as he lay like an upturned beetle. "My back..."

PwgLrgYD

Aurelie Lefevre

Oscar raised his eyebrows. "You know your stuff. Alright then let's put it to the test." Oscar motioned for Violet to follow him, leading her to a nearby table with a heavy case sitting upon it. Oscar unlatched the case's lid and opened it up to reveal a neat array of gizmos and makeup supplies. Thank goodness Mint picked out some stuff Oscar actually recognized.

Oscar carefully unpacked the case, setting every gadget along the table. In total there was: A watch that hides a multitude of tiny tools, a pen with a hidden USB drive containing a code cracking algorithm, pearl earrings with microphones within the pearls, glasses with a hidden camera within the frame, five "bugs" that could be planted for covert eavesdropping, a hygiene mask with a voice changer on the inside, and a makeup kit with a large selection of brushes.

Oscar stood to the side of the table and leaned on it as he explained the scenario. "Here's a hypothetical. Imagine you're a League operative working undercover to infiltrate Rocket. You've been given this selection of tools to help with your mission. Your task is to make it into the office fern delaney, download the files on his computer, plant three bugs in strategic locations, all while remaining undetected. How would you accomplish this? Oh, and pretend you don't have any pokemon."

Violet Fairbanks

As always, Priam's colorful enthusiasm was as welcome as it was infectious. Good thing Howard was not around to hear him call the place shit though, he would probably blow a gasket defending the farm. Oscar clapped his hands together as he searched for his building supplies around the makeshift base. "Nah nothing like that. This is hopefully gonna be a full research center, where any Rocket scientist or scientist adjacent grunt can come research Ultra Space. I'll try a secret evil lair for the second attempt."

Oscar was a bit dumbfounded about where his supplies could have gone, until he noticed something shiny sticking out of a large hill of sand nearby. It looked so natural that Oscar had hardly noticed it, but seeing the shiny protrusion suddenly made everything clear. "Ugh, speaking of melted down steel pokemon though." Oscar walked over to the hill and did some light digging, causing sand to spill over his boots. He cleared just enough to expose some steel foundation pipes, confirming that Oscar's supplies had been buried in sand.

Oscar groaned, "Well that's inconvenient. We'll need some pokemon to dig this stuff out." Oscar stretched to regain some of his pep and faced Priam. "All of the building materials, from the walls to the foundations, are made from organic steel alloy! You know, melted down steel pokemon. Mostly Steelix--and at least one bronzong. It's the only building material that can withstand the conditions of the Ultra Desert."

priam conrad

Oscar opened the door, initially elated to see Shred before realizing that he was fucked beyond recognition. His face strained as he tried to maintain a smile and not become concerned, not everyone was comfortable with Oscar's doting--especially people he barely knew. "Shred! Good to see you--I mean in general not like um--come in!"

Oscar got out of the way and allowed Shred to step inside his appropriated lair. It was full of half finished gadgets and doodas but none of that shit mattered right now. The important thing was the metal arm sitting on a table that Oscar had pulled up front and center. The arm was once again resting on its stand, its palm facing toward the ceiling. The polished metal plating shined brightly under the lab's lights, no doubt part of its purposeful placement.

Hefty wires were coiled from the arm's shoulder, connecting into a laptop that sat at the edge of the table. Oscar parked himself in front of the laptop and gestured to the arm. "Ta-da! Neat huh? I built it by copying the tech that made Genesect's arms. The plating is made by the same alloy as Genesect, one hundred percent melted steel pokemon. Specifically scizor since it was the most flexible. Thank Aurelie Lefevre for that discovery." Oscar tapped a few keys on his laptop, and the hand would react by fluidly performing several finger curls. "Full range of motion, with easy access into the inner tech to make repairs if needed. It was originally meant for me so it's as fuckin' good as it gets."

Oscar performed a few more keystrokes and the arm went still. He patted the prosthesis's forearm and leaned against the table. "Before we talk about the hard part, what do you think?"

Shred

When Oscar stepped backstage after his intro, he had thought the terrified looks from the audience would be an asset toward his appeal. Not so! Turns out people do not like being scared when they had not signed up for it. Oscar held it together when he saw his initial score, but on the inside he was screaming. How could he fuck up so badly!?

No matter! It was a minor setback, he had plenty of space to get those lost points back. Their performance just needed to be on point. As their turn neared, Oscar and Robbie Rotten had a pep talk off to the side of backstage.

"Alright Rob, that was a rough start but we still got this. You feel me?" Robbie shook his head, prompting Oscar to grab him by the mandibles. "Don't give me that shit, you're a fuckin' star. You got more performance talent than anyone else in my team. You and I are gonna go out there and nail this thing. Why? Because we're great. You agree yet?"

Inspired by his trainer's words, Robbie's expression hardened. The alien dragon nodded confidentially, and Oscar would nod back. "Let's knock 'em dead--not really though. Whatever, you get it."

After they were announced, Oscar would take the stage with unwavering determination. Oscar stood in the stage's center, raising his hands to the crowd. "When faced with setbacks, weak will crumble. The tough push forward! Robbie the Rotten laughs in the face of adversity! To prove the worth of his power is the greatest of thrills!"

Oscar leaned backward before sprinting toward the edge of the stage. Instead of stopping, he would leap forward over the front rows of the audience. Instead of landing though, Oscar would disappear entirely. In his place was Robbie Rotten, who soared over the heads of the startled audience with menacing glee (Ally Switch).

Robbie circled back to the stage, smoke pouring from his open jaws. He sharply turned to face the audience, firing a motar of poison far over their heads (Gunk Shot). Before the toxic ball could do any damage though, Robbie would follow up with a mighty Fire Blast. The flames engulfed the poison, causing it to burst into a mix of smoke and sparks.

The smoke slowly covered the arena, submerging the stage in an eerie fog. Robbie cackled at the outcries from the audience, his hoarse chortles echoing as he disappeared into the fog. Oscar stepped forward, emerging from the concealing cloud with a flourish. "It is alright to be frightened, in fact you should be. Nothing is more dangerous than the Toukon Demon, Robbie the Rotten!" With that he would bow and walk backward to disappear offstage.

Nb9QuOV7 +10
+10 free reroll

Oscar twitched as he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He pulled it out, tapping the screen to get a preview of what he had received. The message he saw was so strange that he had to go to his messaging app to get a better look. Was it some sort of trick, or a glitch? No no, it was real. A simple message from an unknown number.

WE ARE WATCHING

Hmmm, right. "Blocked." Simple as that, block the number and move on. Someone had to do something about all these spam messages going around lately. Oscar threw his phone aside and settled into his couch, pulling a messenger bag that had been sitting on the floor onto his lap. He rustled through it briefly before pulling out a book from within its depths. It looked hefty, bound in black leather with red fore-edges on the paper. A striking design that Oscar was eager to crack open.

The book was a in depth look into the history of occult magic, a subject that Oscar had been curious about as of late. This particular printing as especially valuable, as it was a perfectly intact copy from the original release in 1895. It cost a lot of money, so Oscar was going to be damn sure to read it.

With the lights in his office dimmed to set the mood, Oscar would pull an obsidian orb out of his pocket to fidget with before finally opening the book. The Forward read as follows:

There is a saying among the old mediums and hex masters of old that has been passed down and blended into modern popular culture: "Between gods and men, none are more dangerous than a witch." The classical definition of a witch is a being that wields the dark powers beyond the reach of humanity. Pokemon show semblances of these peculiar magics, but they lack the intrinsic element that makes witches unique. The power of a witch is distinctly unnatural. They were not born with their power, but rather went through many sacrifices to obtain it. It is easy to look upon the witches of folklore and cast them as villains, as their dark abilities perfectly align with that archetype. However, more often than not, a witch would make the deal that granted them their powers out of desperation. Like a wild pokemon pushed into a corner, many humans are willing to pay any price to obtain the ability to rise above their hardships and enter a new world of occult splendor. I ask you, the reader, what sacrifices would you be willing to make to wield the dark magics of the witches. Or even to gain a sliver of their eldritch knowledge?

Oscar paused. His eyes had read the next words passively, yet once they actually sunk in he had to go back to read them again. He stared upon them with intense scrutiny, his heart rate slowly starting to rise.

What would you give to escape your own hardships, Oscar Clayton? Your company? Your assets? Your life? What will you sacrifice for power? For knowledge?

Oscar pressed his hand against the text, a chill running down his spine as he felt nothing but the flat surface of the page. These words had been printed on, just as the others. "What the fuck..." he uttered, unsure what to think as he stared upon his own name. In a book--from 1895. It must have been altered in some way, stolen and reprinted with this ridiculous prank. Yes, the shipping company fucked up! Oscar slapped the book closed and picked up his phone, dialing the customer service number of Farfetch'd Deliveries. After a moment a male operator would pick up.

"Hello how can I assist you today?"

"Uh hey, is there a way I can get a log for the delivery of item uhhh..." Fuck he threw away the package, he did not have the tracking number.

"Item SE9945678 tracking number 2875549029341. Yes, there was no mistake Mister Clayton."

Oscar froze, driven speechless by the absolute nonsense he had just heard. He wanted to ask how or why or anything, but his mouth felt as though it was sewn shut. After the silence hung between them for several seconds, the operator would speak up.

"Unblock the number, Mister Clayton."

Dialtone, the call ended. Oscar slowly pulled the phone away from his ear, staring at his screen as he shivered slightly. He had no idea what was going on, and he was not sure he wanted to know. Yet his curiosity was stronger than his sense of preservation. He carefully navigated to his chat settings and unblocked the number that he had blocked earlier. The conversation reappeared, still with the one initial phrase:

WE ARE WATCHING

Oscar sat there for a moment before typing a reply with shaky thumbs.

Watching who?

A reply came almost instantaneously.

YOU

Oscar sighed. He knew that was going to be the answer but he was really hoping it wouldn't be. He carried on the conversation. He was about to text again, but a pounding noise would catch his attention. Oscar looked to where the noise had come from, the book that now rested beside him. To his shock the book would open itself into the middle, revealing that it had been hollowed out all along. Within the makeshift container sat a rotom that burst forth faster than Oscar could process and latch itself onto his phone. Oscar yelped and threw his phone across the room, only for it to stop in mid-air and float back to him. Oscar flinched, expecting it to attack. When it only stared back at him, he would relax enough to start talking with it.

"What do you want?"

YOU

Text appeared within the original conversation.

WE ARE ALLIES, MISTER CLAYTON

YOU HAVE BEEN FOUND WORTHY OF JOINING OUR RANKS

DO YOU ACCEPT?

Oscar sat there for a moment, having no idea how to respond. Eventually he felt as if he should at least cover his bases.

"What am I joining exactly?"

A CIRCLE OF TRUST

A SOCIETY OF LIKE MINDED COMMENTATORS

THE FACILITATORS OF THE FUTURE

DO YOU ACCEPT?

This felt incredibly sketchy to Oscar, and his first instinct told him to say no. Whoever these people were, they went through immense lengths to contact him and that left Oscar terrified. Though--also a little thrilled. He had no idea what this was, and if he declined now his curiosity would eat him alive. There was only one way to get the answers he craved.

"Yeah sure, fuck it."

Several seconds went by before a final response appeared, followed by a link to open a location on the phone's GPS.

CONGRATULATIONS MISTER CLAYTON, YOU HAVE BEEN CHOSEN AS THE WORLD. WELCOME TO SEELE. PLEASE ARRIVE AT THE DESIGNATED LOCATION WITH AN ITEM TO BE USED AS YOUR OBJECT OF POWER.

"Object of what?"

The rotom-phone did not respond, instead floating down to rest in Oscar's lap. Oscar gingerly picked it up, staring at the GPS link. He pressed his thumb to it, watching as it opened a location with no name or coordinates. Great start. He should leave right away, but first he had to find some sort of object of power? Could it be anything? Oscar had no idea what to choose, until his eyes caught the obsidian orb he had unknowingly dropped earlier.

He smiled deviously, "Badass."

SETTING: Oscar's Mauville office.
REASON: To satisfy his unquenchable curiosity.
OBJECT OF POWER: An obsidian orb that can fit in a palm.
Remiel Calcifet

The legendary pokemon of the world must have had a meeting and decided that these next few months were the best time to call upon the public to share their opinions. Oscar was drawn in by the power emanating from Meteor Falls, and relentlessly traversed its treacherous paths to locate the power's source. He was confused when he came upon Zekrom, who was never seen without its Avatar Remiel Calcifet. Then the great dragon spoke into his mind, and all was made clear--though to be honest Oscar nearly just left.

Between Zekrom and the Bunny Oscar was getting sick of talking at physical gods hoping to get---what, their approval? A clap on the back and a lollipop? That would be nice actually. No! There shall be no lollipops, just woes that would consume his intrusive thoughts all night! He must turn his back on this nonsense and protest by not partaking...

...Then again he did come all this way. Plus he had nothing else planned for this Saturday, he cleared everything to be here. Alright fine just once more! He clapped his gloved hands together, twisting them outward to crack his knuckles. After a roll of his shoulders, he would begin his oration.

"Hey there, glad to have an audience with my favorite frienemy. I feel like my ideal world is not one you're gonna like, because you're not in it. Well, maybe you are but you wouldn't wield as much power as you do now. I tell ya, I have been sick of how easily Hoenn has been assaulted by apocalyptic threats. I mean, Kyurem just showed up once day and massacred who knows how many people! We couldn't even kill it, we were sitting ducks! I mean no offense to you when I say this, but humanity should not have to surrender themselves to all powerful forces of nature to justify their right to exist. Would I do so personally? In a heart beat, no question--but I shouldn't have to."

"Our survival, clings to the factor of how many gods can we get on our side before the next big calamity occurs. That's not the future I want, nor is it the future humanity deserves. In order to thrive in this world, humanity must take control over nature. Using technology, we must take control of our own destiny and shed our reliance on gods. The means to do so are already within our grasp. I have a plan in motion that shall allow humanity to reclaim its dominance! I'll make it happen, even if I have to rip apart the crust of the Earth and beyond to do so! Just you watch, you overgrown beedril!"

Oscar paused, realizing that he was getting a little carried away. "Um--sorry that got a little personal. Truth be told I haven't really let go of the last time we uh--you remember. I'm not over it, I'm sorry!" Oscar scratched the back of his head, slowly coming to the conclusion that he had nothing else to say. "Alright peace."

|FFvWKiH

BOUQUETS:

Send a special someone a bouquet delivered by Leavanny, signed or anonymous!

[break][break]

ORDER DETAILS: A bouquet of edelweiss and white clover flowers. [break][break] TO: Cillian Quinn [break][break] CARD: "I miss you man. You know where to find me, let's catch up."

BOUQUETS:

Send a special someone a bouquet delivered by Leavanny, signed or anonymous!

[break][break]

ORDER DETAILS: A bouquet of hydrangea flowers surrounded by thyme.[break][break] TO: jayden cross [break][break] CARD: "You're far stronger than you know, don't let anyone tell you differently.

Oscar entered the king's throne room for the last time, appearing more tired than usual. What the king could not possibly know was that today happened to be very special to Oscar, and he had been up since midnight reflecting upon the past. This surely influenced his choice in story, as he began speaking to the king in a far more somber tone.

"Hey, I thought over what you want and I'm giving you something a little different than my last few stories. Let me tell you a little bit about my dad. He died today ya know--I mean not today but like eight years ago. It feels longer than it is, probably because my dad and I were never really close. Ya see, back in my childhood I wanted to be a dancer. I used to take ballet in elementary, that's right I was ballet boy. So what?"

"Anyway my dad never approved. He thought men shouldn't do ballet because--I dunno maybe he was scared I'd be gay, which is funny because he didn't care when I actually came out. He never really cared about anything except work. I can't count how many times I begged him to come see a recital. Just once, then I could prove to him why it was so precious to me. He wouldn't have it, once or twice he would act like he relented and would come but he never showed. Not once. His work was too important, he was in charge of a very controversial construction firm in Alola. My dad was probably fighting a different battle every day, just trying to prove that the company deserved to exist. That its destruction of natural ecosystems was for the good of humanity or some shit. He was busy, is what I mean."

"Well, it wouldn't be until years later where I'd find out that there was one time where he actually tried to come to a show. It was my last one for the year, and I was feeling pretty defeated because I couldn't muster the passion to continue dancing if my dad hated it so much. I should have been tougher, who gives a fuck if the old man doesn't approve? Whatever, I made my choice already. Anyway, I can't tell my dad's side because I only know what happened at the end. I like to imagine though, in the quiet hours of the night when my mind won't stay still. I picture him at his desk, setting up for a big presentation he would have to give later that evening. Around that time he had a picture of my brother and I on his desk, and I like to think he stopped to look at it. I imagine him focusing in on my young face, and for a miracle of a moment he feels a twinge of fatherly love. He realizes how quickly time moves, and how he's been sitting at his desk as years roll by. Then he makes a faithful choice. He gets up, grabs his coat, and leaves the office."

"My dad chose to go to my last recital, and if I had looked out on the crowd and saw him that night--I probably would have made a lot of different decisions. He didn't make it though. By the time he got to the community center where I had performed, the show had been over for an hour. I bet he thought it was funny, I doubt he was disappointed. I only found out he tried at all after he died, he shared the story with my brother. Not with me though. Had to hear it second hand."

"So answer me this, sire. Who made the sacrifice here? Did my dad sacrifice precious time solidifying his family's future to catch a glimpse of my childhood? Did I sacrifice my interest in dancing to chase after my father's approval? Maybe a bit of both? Maybe neither. I know you won't actually answer, that's alright. Thanks for hearing me out, I hope you got what you wanted." With that Oscar turned and left without further acknowledgement. He had a rough night ahead of him.

As Howard trailed off, Oscar looked at him before following his gaze out toward the horizon. Figures had appeared in the distance, an inevitability given how loud the drill's presence were. "Maybe they're friendly." Oscar said sarcastically, watching as Howard's sigilyph made the first move. Oscar pressed a button on the side of his helmet, opening a comm line between him and Genesect Prime.

"Prime, please bring us the intruders here so that we may strap them to the drill." Prime had been staring at the strangers as they became visible, waiting for orders to obliterate them. Capturing them worked too, whatever it took to let loose some energy. Genesect flew in over the interlopers, aiming its cannon toward the one that was not being attacked by sigilyph.

Its barrel sparked before firing out a net, which bloomed in mid-air as it flew toward its target. The mesh sparked and crackled, promising a terrible jolt should it envelope its target (Electro Web). Meanwhile, Oscar looked to the drill as it started making a bizarre grinding noise. "Um, that doesn't sound normal. Is the machinery getting jammed?"

tl;dr
--Genesect used Electro Web on Ollie!
--The drill may be biting off more than it can chew.

4LC7O2SE

howard slayte ollie morales Roy Aker

Oscar squinted at his phone as he tried to decipher the text that mint frost had sent him. Poor Mister Clayton was the substitute proctor for some Spectra training. Anything to increase his presence in Spectra, he thought. Plus Mint said he would have the whole thing planned out already, all Oscar had to do was instruct and observe. What Oscar forgot to account for was that any text from Mint was like trying to learn a second language.

This isn't evrytin but enuf to getcha started on simple recon. Practice blending n2 crowds: neutrals colors, walking under cover, norm g8, middle of crowds etc. hv a gd excuse 4 nefing (convincing n kwik ) introduce her to some of our lowkey observation equipment. cn she do her own make ^? Etc….I cnt thnk of much. I learned alot of my stff on the job n w/ trial n error. I'll hafta sit dwn one day n write it out but this is all ive off the cuff sorryyyy Oscarrrr <3

"I um...uh..." Oscar looked between his phone screen and today's trainee, Violet Fairbanks . He had never met Ms. Fairbanks, and after today she would surely wish that she had never met Oscar. Oscar cleared his throat, deciding to put his phone away for now. I mean, how hard could it really be to do a little intel training?

Oscar clapped his hands together, "So--welcome to your second Spectra assessment. Um, what do you know about reconnaissance? You know, just to get a baseline."

Note: ty kimmy

"Can I do what?...a new arm, like a prosthetic?...uhuh...oh a robot arm. I mean, probably. I can see what I can do. I'll be in my lab, you should come down...Alright see you in a bit."

Oscar hung up his cellphone, keeping his cool as he slid it into his pocket. He had just gotten off of a call with Shred, who wanted to employ Oscar's skill set to make him a new arm. Specifically an arm that was functional and not just an aesthetic replacement. It was unclear if this was part of Oscar's owed favor to Shred, but he was more than happy to help.

As he pushed himself away from one of his work tables, Oscar began to chuckle to himself. He walked across his lab, his chuckle becoming increasingly maniacal. On the far wall of his lab was a large, steel storage closet where Oscar kept his projects that were 'on hold'. He opened the closet, steam pouring across his face as his chuckle warped into a full cackle.

Sitting upon a stand, surrounded by other bizarre pieces of tech, was a mechanical arm plated with steel made from melted down steel type pokemon. Oscar intended to use it on himself when he was at risk of losing his arms to his illness, but with that under control he had no use for it. Until now.

Oscar lifted it off of its stand, turning so that he may dramatically hold the arm aloft like it was the son of Mufasa. "At last!" He exclaimed with barely contained mania. "My arm is complete again!" Now he would just need Shred to arrive...