Oscar shivered as Temp confirmed his fears: they would have to remain here until enough data was gathered. Oscar groaned, "Of course this happens at my lowest point." The scientist shook his head, steeling himself for the fight to come. He may be afraid, but he could not let that fear interfere with their goals. "Right then, we fight on to the last."

As Temp's pokemon intensified their maneuvers, Razor would be inspired to do the same. He provided cover fire, hoping to keep the Marshadows busy until Temp's pokemon could land some harder hitting attacks. Oscar kept his eyes on his device, watching with bated breath as the readings went wild. His concentration would be broken by a bizarre cry, completely alien yet strangely familiar. Oscar looked over to Temp, his body starting to shiver once again. "What the fuck was--that?"

Temp looked unwell, vacantly staring in Oscar's direction. Oscar waved a hand over Temp's eyes, his anxiety growing as Temp did not react. "Hello? Temp? What's wrong?" Temp seemed frozen, as if an unknown force had taken hold of his mind. Oscar gritted his teeth, briefly pondering if this was what Temp was talking about earlier. Unwilling to deal with the same shenanigans, Oscar moved to slap Temp across the face.

"Oh no you don't, wake the fuck up samurai!"

Tempest Quinn

Oscar nodded with confirmation, but did not speak on the disk. Some things just were not meant for League ears, even if he trusted them. As for whether or not the Silvally was still in pain, Oscar would answer with a scoff. "Hell no, it's relaxing on the beach like its on fuckin' vacation. Couldn't be more comfortable I'd say."

Oscar slumped forward, "Ugh, I destroyed the disk! I apologized! What else does it want from me? Is being humbled not good enough? Must I tear my shirt and scream my regrets into the sky? What am I missing!?" Oscar pressed his palms into his sunken cheeks, tapping his forehead as a thousand ideas flooded through his head. He paused as one of them seemed to actually have promise.

He looked toward Eris once again. "Hey you're loved by every pokemon you come across. What would you do in my shoes?"

Eris Halla

Alba's playful fun fact did little to calm Oscar's nerves. In fact Oscar would find himself trembling, the possibility of more ghosts appearing being as unappealing as drinking bleach. He would try his best to keep his tremors under control though, the mad scientists had a reputation to maintain after all. Someone with his experience being scared by a bunch of ghosts? He would never live it down.

Aurelie was the voice of reason, and he would nod in her direction as he coped with Alba's revelation. "Right, I mean could you imagine what that would do to the property value? They would have been better off building it on a toxic waste dump." Oscar let out a nervous chuckle at his observation, which turned into a yelp as a horrific scream echoed across the ballroom.

The dining room had been opened to the guests, and that scream was simply a cheeky way of getting their attention. It did not make Oscar feel any better though, his heart thumping faster than a car piston. Oscar would be forced to recover quickly though, as his chosen companions would waste no time entering the dining room.

It was a sight to behold; a feast created and served by ghost pokemon. Oscar grimaced behind his mask, adjusting the collar of his dress-shirt as he took in the unpalatable display. Oscar would be unable to make a choice, it all looked horrible to him. Oscar chuckled nervously and deferred to his companions, "Er, I'm down for whatever. Where should we sit?" The pale man briefly provided a glimpse of his twitching face as he adjusted his mask, looking greener around the gills with every passing moment.

tl;dr
--Oscar is still spooked, hanging out with Aurelie Lefevre and Alba Evovae.
--Has his companions choose the table, he is too disgusted by the idea of Ghost pokemon cooking.

The Riddle Answer: Green

Oscar stared at his drink: a cheap whiskey with lemon. The glass was still frosted from the touch of its server, a haunter. Oscar stared at the reflection of his skull-mask, both disgusted and disturbed by his surroundings. Oscar thought that he had gotten over his fear of ghosts by now, but his misguided journey into the Border had reignited his dread. Being served by the dead, willing or not, made his stomach churn.

He steeled himself, reluctantly grabbing the glass. The drink was hurriedly downed, Oscar having decided that the effects of the alcohol would make up for his distaste. He smacked the glass down, resting his head upon his idle forearm. It was a horrible sensation, this revulsion, and Oscar would groan as he stood back upright. He looked around, hoping that no one would notice his pitiful display.

Coming here was a mistake, this mansion made Oscar's skin crawl. The idea was to at least come to appreciate the architecture, but that was not enough to distract him by how--haunted everything was. It was all far more upsetting than he had anticipated. Oscar had half a mind to leave, but he was still in a headspace that could be open to finding a reason to stay. He was not so far gone, he could work past this.

A familiar voice captured his attention, tilting his head toward what was surely Aurelie Lefevre. The mask threw him off briefly, but he quickly recognized the red-head standing alongside Alba Evovae. There we go, something to keep him anchored!

Oscar slide past other patrons to invite himself to their conversation, tapping Aurelie on the shoulder. "Psst hey! I'm joining you two, I need company." Oscar paused, his increasingly inebriated brain feeding him paranoia about their perceptions of him. "I mean, I'm not scared or anything like--I just wanna socialize! Yeah yeah--Isn't this place...great...?"

Oscar had resolved to pull himself further and further from working with people outside of Rocket. He used to be very open to collaboration with civilians--but eventually walking on eggshells to hide his true allegiance had become too tiresome. howard slayte had approached Oscar to work with someone named june sleigh; if the request had not come from Howard, Oscar would have said no.

Oscar was at the very least glad that June was unlikely to blow his cover. Even so, he was wary of this outsider. Howard may trust her, but Oscar had been burned too many times. He could not help but be cautious.

Still, he remained affable as to not insult their guest. The two were scavenging through a makeshift junkyard that had formed just outside of Petalburg. They had to put all of the dead Genesect somewhere. You can not just bury them, these shells had plenty of useful parts that could be recycled. And that was what they were doing, robbing the graves of these poor hapless robots. If they had had souls, they would be weeping.

Oscar used his arm to push sweat off of his brow, looking up as June opened a dialogue. He chuckled as he slammed a hammer of his own against a carapace.

"I think we stopped counting after three hundred. The ones the Kanto branch had brought over were--designed to be disposable." Oscar smashed open another Genesect shell, amused by how comparatively harder it would be to break the shell of a 'true Genesect'.

"Mass-produced and made to die--so there's a lot is what I'm saying."

Oscar quickly put the pieces together, his face racked with guilt. Whatever happened to him had ended up leading Temp into danger, and it made Oscar furious. Firstly at himself for being a coward, and then at this damn realm for fucking with Oscar's mind. He knew this place would be intense, but it was quickly becoming apparent that he was not ready to face his fears after all. At least not at this scale.

Oscar's first instinct was to help against the shadows, pulling a pokeball off of his belt. Out came his Dragapult Razor, who had long thought that he had seen the last of this accursed place years ago. Oscar pointed toward the brawl, "Razor, beat back the shadows!" Razor nodded, jumping into the fray with a well time Sucker Punch against the nearest spirit.

It was then that Oscar noticed his device, still gripped tightly by his trembling hands. He let out a loud gasp, terror once again consuming his face. He spoke out loud as he processed what he was seeing, "Temp--we're..." Oscar aimed the device toward his companion so that he too could see it. "We're in a sweet spot!"

Tempest Quinn

Oscar arrived in short form, his helicopter landing a safe distance away from the power spot. The red beacon was a beautiful sight from afar, but Oscar was more eager to get up close once again. Oscar departed from his copter, which quickly took off as he made his way over to Nomi.

Oscar waved at his fellow scientist, adjusting his tie as it was displaced by the wind. "Hey there, long time no see!" Oscar got up close to the power spot, looking as deeply into the hole as he could without blinding himself with the red glow. "Crazy how we managed to make our own power spot. No idea how it was managed."

Oscar looked over to Nomi, his eyes twinkling with knowing mischief. "We should start there. Tell me everything you know about Dynenergy and I'll tell you what I know. Then we'll dive into my current project."

Naomi Sato

Oscar looked up, scratching the back of his head as he contemplated whether or not it was safe to divulge his issues with the enemy. Enemy? Come now, this was Eris! Sure they were on opposite sides, but she was not at all an enemy. You know, as long as they were 'clocked out'--so to speak.

Oscar sighed and folded his fingers together. "I made a Silvally. Well, a Type:Null or whatever the fuck it's called. It was a beautiful specimen too, not to toot my own horn or anything. And I uh--" Oscar performed an exaggerated shrug, "I did something bad to it. Not proud, but it had to be done. The little bastard evolved into Silvally and now it hates me. Ran off with the last of my dignity."

Oscar motioned toward the beach, where said Silvally could be barely seen in the distance. "It's sitting over there actually. Of course it wants nothing to do to me but--" Oscar ran his hands through his hair, "I mean--is it not enough that I feel sorry? What more does it want?"

Eris Halla

Oscar's lungs were about to give out, his heaving breaths drowning out the taunts of his pursuers. His eyes were wild, fixated on the path forward. Unblinking as his speed faltered and his legs began to fail him. He felt the cold clasp of a hand on his shoulder, and Oscar could not help but scream as he was forced to face his doom.

Yet as he was turned around, Oscar found himself face-to-face with Temp instead. Oscar breathlessly stared at Temp, confusion replacing his terror. Oscar looked around; nothing had changed yet the oppressive atmosphere that haunted him was entirely gone. Had it--had it all been an illusion? Oscar's face scrunched up, his cheeks turning red as he grappled with both embarrassment and fury. He hated being made to look like a fool--especially by this damned hellhole.

Oscar's face softened as he looked back at Temp, only now noticing how beaten up he was. Finally the scientist spoke, "I--you disappeared. You were gone and I was alone and--this place--fuck dude what happened to you?"

Tempest Quinn

Oscar jolted up as he heard a voice, quickly rubbing his eyes with his sleeve to hide his tears. Through his puffy vision he saw Eris, and despite their opposite allegiances Oscar would relax his posture. "Oh, it's you Eris."

Oscar did not see Eris as a threat, despite the overwhelming evidence to the contrary. To him she was still just the little girl that used to wander the sub, though how far that went to stay his hand during the war remained to be seen. Still, he saw no reason to be hostile. It was almost refreshing to have a League operative that he did not have to conceal himself from.

The scientist halfheartedly attempted to appear chipper. "Everything's fine over here. Never been better honestly." Oscar's facade was short lived, and he would glumly hunch over while resting his arms on his knees. "Fuck I can't even pretend. Shit sucks Eris, I'm a total wash-up. A has been! I was a damn beast once but now? Can't even tame a pokemon I made. I'm a joke." Oscar was so busy indulging in his own self pity, that he did not even question why Eris was snooping around Petalburg's outskirts.

Eris Halla

Oscar slowly turned toward Howard; the admin's 'order' was likely in jest but Oscar did not have the energy to defy it. He heard Howard out, nodding along as he agreed with what he said. The ruin of Petalburg was theirs, but it would not remain a ruin for long. Rocket would surely turn it into a stronghold that shall make all of their sacrifices worthwhile--and their mistakes meaningless.

Oscar could either indulge his misery or work through it. The choice was not hard; Oscar would rather be a part of the effort rather than watch it go by passively.

Oscar sighed when Howard ended his pep talk. "Sorry--you're right on all fronts. When you asked me to look over the golems, I just felt so ashamed. My mistakes seemed so dire that I did not think I deserved your trust."

Oscar looked Howard in the eye, his confidence gradually returning. "I won't let you down. I'll make up for everything ten fold, just wait and see."

Oscar turned back to the Genesect pile, resuming his work with a steadier hand. "Just let me know when it's a good time to check on them."

howard slayte

As soon as Howard expressed embarrassment, Oscar's cheeks grew red. "Sorry." He said flatly, sneaking in one more up-down glance before turning back toward the broken Genesect. His work slowed, weighed down by the memories of the battle. To Howard's requests, Oscar could not say no. It was a valuable opportunity to explore the intelligence of the golems, although Oscar's own feelings would prevent his enthusiasm from shining through.

"No problem. Anything to help..." Oscar paused, his tools going slack within his hands. He began to shudder, his eyes fixated on the defunct face of the Genesect before him. "I fucked up." He said flatly, his rage and regret causing his body to tremble. "I thought I knew what I was doing but I fucked up."

Oscar slumped forward, Howard's request having had the opposite effect. He could think of nothing else than his failure. "How can I come back from this? I've never failed this badly before..."

howard slayte

The battle of Petalburg has devastated the once scenic city. Displaced sand had filled every orifice, and a fair chunk of the town's buildings now lay in ruin. Rocket was determined to help what was left, doing what they could to rebuild the city into their next stronghold.

Part of this effort involved restoring power to swaths of the city that had been disconnected from the power grid. In concept, this was a straight forward fix. All they had to do was use temporary generators until the power lines could be restored. Yet right before this simple solution could be implemented, Oscar Clayton would step in. He saw this as the perfect opportunity to test his latest iteration of 'the pokepod', now in its most portable form thanks to some help from Yuan Wright.

His project was approved, delaying the restoration of power while he set up his machine. Furthermore, the method of restoring said power was so unethical that to learn of it would only further demoralize the populace. Not that Oscar cared; being a champion of progress meant that the only thing that mattered was pushing the envelope of science--for better or worse.

For his pod experiment, Oscar could think of only one pokemon that could allow for prolong usage of the pod. He would call upon Alba Evovae and the eternal floette within his care, and hopefully it would not take too much convincing to receive their aid. While Oscar awaited his guests, he would put the final touches on his portable poke pod--stationed behind a powerless suburb.