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Ferris Talese

@Pezz570@HokumPocus

The forest was a quiet rustle of leaves around Ferris as he walked, and in the distance crickets were readying their songs for when the sun sank below the skyline. Around him, the air was cooling to the slightly nippy nighttime temperature common to the border between the Lands of Taste and Sight.

Ferris adjusted his hat as a bit of wind leaked through the trees. He'd make it to the next town before nightfall, but perhaps it was time to consider upping up his pace a bit. The border woods weren't known for being safe after dark, and every now and then a corpse would turn up for one reason or another. While Ferris was secure in his abilities, he wasn't one to spend time and energy frivolously. So, resting his hand on the hilt of his blade under his cloak, he moved to speed up his pace, but a sound from behind—a throat clearing—made him whirl around.

Leaning against a tree was a black haired man who wore an easy, confident grin as he waved to Ferris. There was something unnatural about the scene. It was not just the man who acted as if he knew Ferris but the forest as well. The crickets were no longer chirping. The leaves had stopped their rustling. The air had gone still, and the forest... silent.

Ferris didn't react, instead watching the man carefully. The man hadn't snuck up on him because no one had. Not in a long time, and not in the middle of the woods, where leaves and earth were the only scents around. The other option, however, made both more and less sense; it was unlikely that the man teleported to or materialized in his current position, yet such would explain the utter lack of scent and sound.

Weighing his options, Ferris figured talking was his best course of action. If the man wanted Ferris' head, he'd just given up his best chance at it, and—judging by his grin—he was probably a talker. And, since Ferris had only questions at this point, he would play along.

“Who are you?”

"Who am I?" The mystery man repeated, rubbing his chin in amusement. "What an odd little question to ask me." The man turned his back to Ferris and gazed towards the night sky as if in thought. "To say I am a who would imply that I am someone. A someone forever is, and even after death remains forever who they were. Me? I'm forever changing, much like time itself. So a someone I am not. A who I can never be.

"But, what am I?"
The man continued, twirling with his arms outstretched. "Now there's an interesting question! For a what I most certainly am. Exactly what, I shall not say. I fear the answer is far too much, especially for a mind as unhinged as your own.

"No, no."
The man said with a smirk and a swat of his hand. "Simple. I'll keep things simple. I would rather have that mind remain uncracked, after all. Instead, I'll keep things down to a name. I tend to take my names by the person. For you? I'll go with... Hagan Talese..." The man pronounced the name slowly and deliberately. His lips curled into a calculated and knowingly grin. The kind that would put any man's hair on ends.

The mystery man locked eyes with Ferris. Looking as if he were peering into Ferris soul.

Ferris froze. It'd been years since he heard that name. Hagan Talese, the man who'd died fighting off assassins in a bid to buy Ferris enough time to escape out the back window of their cabin. The same cabin was a beacon of orange light when Ferris finally chanced a look behind him, easily identifiable in the night, and even now Ferris could recall the acrid smell of smoke.

Whether or not he'd actually smelled it was irrelevant, just as it was irrelevant how this man knew his father's name. Without warning, Ferris sprung at the man, drawing his blade and slashing it towards the man's throat.

Blood sprayed forth from the neck of the black hair man. The blade cutting cleanly through. The man who introduced himself as Hagan, collapsed to the ground. dying a pool of blood.

"Yikes..." Came a voice behind Ferris. It was the same as the one belonging to the man Ferris had just killed. "Now perhaps Hagan isn't the most hilarious name I've introduced myself as but there's no need to go making mess over it."

Behind Ferris sat the same black haired man which Ferris had just killed. He eyed Ferris with and sly look on his face. "Honestly, friend, you mustn't go killing every odd person you see. The even people? Sure! Go right on ahead! But the odd ones? Oh no, no, no! You see, it's odd ones who are the most interesting of the bunch!" The man smirked as if amused by his own joke.

Ferris stiffened, whirling around to put his sword between himself and the man who was and wasn’t bleeding out on the floor. ”What do you want,” he asked flatly.

His eyes flicked to the man on the floor, whose throat bubbled with his last breaths, to the silent forest around them that was suddenly devoid of the sounds of leaves and life. Then, his eyes settled warily again on the second man.

"Now why is it that everyone just assumes I want something from them? Maybe I just stopped for a good old chit chat, or maybe I'm here just to make a friend. What do you say, dead me? Why do you think everybody thinks I'm out to get something?"

The man, who introduced himself as Hagan, turned expectantly towards the dead version of himself as if expecting a response. He waited patiently with is hand to his ear. Nodding every half a second or so. "Uh-huh," The man said. "You don't say?" He continued. "Huh. I never thought of it that way. Gee thanks, dead me."

The man turned his attention back to Ferris "Dead me says I could use a bath. He also told me to tell you he said, hi."

The man gave Ferris an amused smile, knowing full well that he was being unhelpful. "Truth is, what I want is actually quite simple. I want a good cup of tea-" He said, raising his hand and snapping his fingers. A cup of tea materialized in his left hand. -and for the success of some convoluted plan which just so happens to align with a silly bounty hunter's quest for revenge."

The man took a sip from his cup of tea. "So tell me, friend... Do I have your attention?"

Ferris stayed silent as the man spoke, watching him carefully. From his magic, it was clear that the man was stronger than him, and perhaps even the strongest magic-user he’d had ever encountered. Unless this was all an illusion—which was possible, but still left Ferris in an unfavorable position—the man had literally summoned a flesh-and-blood copy of himself, which meant he likely couldn't be killed via normal means.

“Yeah.” Ferris let his bladed hand drop to his side.“You have my attention.”



Olfaccium was Ferris’ least favorite month, given his choice of clothing, but he’d never let it bother him. Having arrived in Shimmer Town at sunrise, he’d spent the morning walking around town looking for something—or someone—in particular. The information he’d been given was sufficient to help him locate his new targets, but it was a sizable town with a decent population. Stale scents were available, but Ferris needed fresh ones to track, lest he be led randomly around by the nose. Though the information he’d been provided seemed largely accurate, he disliked the idea of immediately trusting what he’d been told. Until he found the ones he’d been told about, until he’d spoken to them, gauged their goals and desires, he’d continue to be wary.

The town was a messy mix of scents in the morning, likely leftovers from fights from days prior. The fainter scents were only detectable if he focused, meaning they were likely old and past their use. Stronger scents, though, offered little information without a face to put them to, and a face was all Ferris lacked at the moment. A face and a location, but the latter provided the former.

However, given the state of the town—the dead lining the streets with mourners caught between celebration and sorrow—Ferris figured it wouldn’t take long to find his targets after they started moving through the town. If his source was correct, the group was still in town, so it was just a waiting game. This fact culminated in an uneventful morning as Ferris walked the town, knowing full well he wasn’t the only one looking but being unable to do anything about the fact. That he’d been pointed in their direction was proof enough of the group’s threat to the shadows of the town, and Ferris knew he’d be naive to believe he was completely safe roaming inside town walls.

It took a bit of aimless wandering after stray scents and a good bit of luck but after a decent amount of time following the fading pinewood scent indicative of Touch magic, a scuffle of sorts broke out in the square, starting with an unannounced crash. Those involved easily parted the meager crowd as the chased and chasing sped away from the scene, the sharp smell of fresh pine enough to incite Ferris to follow. With a scent trail to track, he was hard on their heels, though he maintained some distance as to not clue in the pursuers. When they turned into an alleyway, Ferris waited a beat, then ran over, pausing at the corner to access his vials and pull up his mask. In went dabs of fruit and earth in case things went south.

Then, drawing a dagger, Ferris rounded the corner and drove it into the lower back of the nearest man from behind before kneeing him, using the momentum of his fall back to push him off the dagger. The man’s pained cry was cut short as Ferris caught him, slitting his throat and dropping him. Blood welled out around the man’s fingers as he hit the ground, grasping at a lost cause.

“Chres. Octavio,” Ferris said, tossing aside his dagger and drawing his sword, the other thugs backing away from him with their weapons up and eyes wide. “Let’s talk after.”

With that, he lunged at the next closest thug, blade high to disguise his intentions to pivot a kick.
@Alamantus Made a few edits before posting (inventory additions, last name, requested edits), hope everything's still okay with you!

Aedre Charbonnet & Amber Pine

— Mesalon City —

“Thea, you first?” Aedre looked at her trusty drama queen, who stepped forward with a mischievous grin. Seeing as Thea was happily settled on their side of the field, Aedre looked to Amber with a hesitant smile. Which Pokemon would Amber use and how would Thea best counter them? That most of Amber's Pokemon were rock-types wasn't very reassuring considering Little's type disadvantage. Decus was the only one who held the advantage in that regard, but entrusting the battle to her newest Pokemon wasn't a wise move.

But, watching as Amber talked with her own Pokemon, Aedre was reminded that this wasn't a competition. She rubbed her hands together, trying to dispell her competitive streak. This wasn't an exam or field test, she reminded herself; there would be no losers here, only winners.

“Ready when you are!” Aedre shouted with a grin, realizing that if she looked past all her anxiety about the outcome, the battle might actually be fun.

Amber took her place, facing Aedre. However this went, there was no need to worry. It was just a sparring match, to train for whatever else lay ahead...

Tacita must have felt her tense. With a soft "Row!", the owl fluttered out of Amber's pocket and perched on her shoulder, nuzzling her face. "Hey, you want to go first?" Amber asked, relaxing as she ruffled the bird's feathers. With a hoot of affirmation, Tacita swooped and landed, her beady eyes fixed on Thea.

As Aedre grinned, Amber found herself doing the same. Maybe, just for now, the battle would help them put aside their fears. "Ok, begin this with Leafage!" she called. Tacita spread her wings wide, launching a flurry of leaves at the Togepi.

“Thea, dodge it!” Aedre shouted.

Thea, for her credit, was already doing so, and the move grazed her side—her shell and maybe her arm, but Thea shrugged it off quickly, turning back to glance at Aedre for a second.

“Right, right,” Aedre said, racking her brains for her next move as she fumbled for her Pokedex. “Use Metronome!”

Thea nodded, waving her arms back and forth once, twice before she glowed briefly, sprouting green spikes.

Aedre winced, glancing down at her Pokedex. Spiky Shield, apparently, a grass-type move that protects the user from attacks and damages physical attackers. Not too useful against a ranged attacker like Tacita. “Metronome again!” While Aedre was counting on one of the randomly-pulled moves to work, her more sensible side had no such aspirations. There were over five hundred known Pokemon moves, and more were being discovered all the time. For Thea to be able to pull just the right ones—the damaging ones, and one that could exploit the Rowlet's weakness—was pretty unlikely. But she had to start somewhere, and Thea was reliable in ways Metrenome wasn't, so she mentally crossed her fingers as she watched Thea wave her arms again in the rhythmic beat she'd done before. Her Pokedex registered the move before it even Thea even finished her waving, and Aedre's eyes widened at the text that appeared on the screen: Dragon Rush.

Amber wasn't disheartened at the leaves glancing off of Thea's shell. On the contrary, she whipped out her notebook. "Well," she said, scribbling frantically, "that backs up the theory of why Togepis keep part of their shells, as a defense mechanism."

A hoot drew her attention back to the battlefield. Tacita pointed a wing at Thea as Aedre called out the countering move - Metronome. The Togepi glowed green, cactus-like spines jutting from her body. "Another Leafage!" Amber called - having Tacita try out her contact making moves, as she'd originally considered, would be a rather bad idea.

The barrage of leaves didn't even make a dent in the shield. When the Togepi retaliated, it was with quite a different random move - a blue energy wave that formed a dragon shape, slamming into the owl before she could react. "Rowww..." With an exhausted cooing noise, Tacita flopped to the ground.

"Tacita!" At once, Amber held out the Pokeball, withdrawing the fainted combatant. "Come on back. Wow, Metronome really is quite something." Maybe not the most reliable of moves, but sometimes, luck was all it took to decide a battle. "Ok Larimar, you want to go next?"

The sturdy Rock type crawled forward, tilting her head, round eyes fixed on the Togepi as she sized her up. "Alright, use Scratch!" Amber commanded. The Anorith scuttled with surprising speed for her type, lashing a claw at Thea.

Aedre stared as Amber withdrew Tacita, mouth poised to catch a Cutiefly. Of all the moves Thea could have Metronome'd out, there were only a handfull of moves that dealt substantial damage, so for Thea to so perfectly pull Dragon Rush, a dragon-type move that was, according to her Pokedex, learned by the likes of Dragonite and Garchomp, was pretty much slim to nil.

Thea, though, was not as shocked as Aedre, and she bounced up to Aedre with a gleeful grin, waving her arms around to get Aedre's attention. "To!"

“Right, good—great job, Thea. That was—wow, keep that up and we won't even need Little or Dee,” Aedre said, laughing nervously. Maybe the next time Thea got into an argument with a teammate, Aedre should be afraid for the teammate instead of the little egg-encased ball of surprises that was her Togepi.

Across the field, Amber had called out her next Pokemon: Larimar, her Anorith. And Thea, boosted by her fresh victory, sauntered onto her side of the field with her hands raised dramatically.

“Yes, Thea,” Aedre said, smiling out of amused exasperation, “Metronome.”

Thea waved her hands, but Larimar was fast, and she struck just as Thea was completing her move. A swipe of her claws, thanks to her lower vantage point, took Thea's balance and sent her reeling onto her side just as her Metronome move went into play. Confide, Aedre's Pokedex told her, was Chatot's special move and would lower the opponent's special attack. In this case, though, Larimar was a physical attacker, and Thea was on her back, trying unsuccessfully to throw her weight onto a side.

“Thea! Get up! Hurry! Aedre called, alarmed. Larimar had tapped into one of Thea's primal weaknesses: her round shell, and therefore inability to get back up quickly. Usually, Aedre was the one pulling her back up, but in a battle Aedre could do no such thing. Instead, she could only watch as the events unfolded, wondering whether this was karma coming to pay its respects to Thea for her earlier theatrics.

"Now's your chance, Larimar!" Amber put away her notebook and pulled out her Pokedex, glancing from the Anorith to the screen. Water Gun would probably be less effective than physical attacks, and Fury Cutter wouldn't be the best move to use on a Fairy type. "Use Scratch again!"

Larimar knew exactly how to go about this. In an instant, she scurried behind the struggling Togepi. Before Thea could right herself and turn the battle back to her favour, Larimar aimed a claw at the side of her head.

Aedre winced as the claw came down, pulling out Thea's Pokeball to return her. “You did great, Thea." Taking one Pokemon down with Metronome was already more than what she could reasonably expect, statistically speaking.

Glancing back at the field where the Anorith stood, Aedre hesitated. She was far more comfortable using Little next, but Decus had the type advantage, and she did want him to get some experience with trainer battles. He was still low-leveled, but at least he was immune to Scratch.

“Decus?” Aedre looked to her Honedge, who drifted over with erratic swishing movements Aedre could only interpret as him being 'happy.'

“Alright. Start out with Swords Dance, then Tackle,” Aedre called. Hopefully the boost would give Decus what he needed to make an impact on Larimar's carapace.

On the field, Decus swayed back and forth, seemingly in a trance. His blade glinted off sun as he moved, then suddenly came down in Larimar's direction—a challenge.

Even though Decus was the opposing Pokemon, Amber stared in sheer fascination as the Honedge's swift movements heightened his focus. "Quite some graceful swordplay already there," she commented, before shifting her attention to Larimar. Now was a perfect opportunity to get a move in, but which one? Scratch wouldn't work, Fury Cutter would barely leave a mark, and Harden would only do so much to counter the boost. That left one option.

"Ok, quick, use Water Gun!"

Larimar raised her head, aiming the jet at Decus, but seemed to hold back. The stream, much thinner than it should be, splashed against the Honedge as if from a child's water pistol. Amber grimaced. This had to be because of Thea's move, still in effect.

Shaking Larimar's attack off, Decus attempted his Tackle, flinging himself at the fossil Pokemon.

Although Larimar's shell protected against cuts, it couldn't protect her from being knocked across the battlefield. "Hold on, Larimar!" Amber shouted, watching the spirited little Pokemon scuttle back to face her opponent. The Anorith's resolve remained strong, as did her body, but the disadvantage was clear.

"Come back for now." Returning her to her Pokeball, Amber took another capsule from her belt. A green one. "Well," she said, eyes flicking from the Dusk Ball to Aedre, "here's your opportunity to study and compare Ghost types."

After a moment's hesitation - who was to say this Pokemon would even listen to her - Amber pressed the button. She had to gain her newest team member's trust and respect somehow. In a flash of red, Almandine appeared, that sharp-toothed grin stretching across her face at the sight of a formidable opponent.

“Yep!” Aedre looked at Decus, who seemed wetted by Larimar's Water Gun but still rearing to go. Against Almadine, he would have the advantage of Fury Cutter, but it'd still be a close call, especially since Decus was naturally susceptible to both of Almadine's types. If the Sableye knew strong dark- or ghost-type moves, Aedre didn't like her chances, but at least Decis had managed a Swords Dance already. “Decus, use Fury Cutter!”

Decus flipped his wet sash, scattering water droplets as he rushed towards Almadine blade first.

The blade struck before Almandine had a chance to move. The Sableye reeled back with a yelp, then scampered forward, snickering as if to ask if that was the best Decus could do. Nonetheless, Amber couldn't help but wince. This was just a casual battle, but if Alma lost, that wouldn't do much for her mood or training.

Amber consulted her Pokedex, thinking fast. If there was a way to throw off Decus' moves, that would be best... "Alma, use Astonish!"

The Sableye opened her mouth, letting out an unearthly shriek. Maybe, Amber thought, goosebumps rising on her skin from the sound, that would startle the other Ghost type too much to attack.

Aedre was about to call for another Fury Cutter when the sound shrilled out of Almadine, shocking her into a momentary standstill. When she recovered, though, seeing Decus drift slowly back upright, bouncing up and down midair as his sash waved uncertainly, Amber was already calling her next move.

"Good work, Alma!" Amber commented, watching Decus freeze in midair. Just as he shook off the stunned stillness, the researcher gave Almandine another command. "Use that again! Astonish!"

The thankfully compliant Sableye leapt forward, filling the air with that same eerie wail. Amber wasn't counting on another flinch - she couldn't always rely on luck - but either way, the move would hit hard against another ghost.

On the field, Decus shuddered, his wet sash rippling in a disconcerting manner, but this time he did not fall over. Instead, he sank down onto the ground, the tip of his blade sinking into the earth below.

“Decus!” Aedre shouted, covering her ears against Almadine's wail. “Use Fury Cutter again!”

Shakily, Decus drifted up out of the indent he'd made in the ground, then accelerated slowly forwards at Almadine as her cry trailed off, his blade glinting in the sun.

Almandine stumbled back as the blade slashed across her. Like before, she steadied herself and advanced, but did so with laboured steps. A black mist-like substance seeped from cuts running along her torso.

Amber shuddered, but knew exactly which move this called for. "You're doing a great job!" she encouraged, ears still ringing from the shrieks. Not that she minded too much. No wonder people described ghost cries as unforgettable - she'd just had to experience that herself. "Hang in there and use Recover!"

A golden glow formed around Almandine's body, then faded, revealing smooth skin where wounds had been a moment ago.

Aedre hesitated, then pulled out Decus' Pokeball. “Good job, Decus. C'mon back for now.” With both Astonish and Recovery, Almadine was set to play the long game whereas Decus was still new, inexperienced, and altogether not ready for a loss. Maybe Aedre was projecting, and maybe she wasn't; either way, she wasn't taking any chances.

“You ready, Little? Aedre asked, looking to the Fletchling perched on a branch behind her, who'd taken flight at the sound of his name, flitting to her side of the battlefield.

“Alright,” Aedre said, grinning. Back to the stuff she had experience with. “Quick Attack!”

Little threw himself up in the air, then swept forwards at Almadine.

When the bird made contact with Almandine, instead of knocking her back, he simply passed straight through.

Amber took the opportunity right away. "Hit with Night Shade!" The Sableye turned and sent forth a wave of dark energy - which did nothing more to Little than the Quick Attack had done to her.

"Ahh... Mutually immune, I see," Amber said, checking her Pokedex as she should have done before. Sure enough, neither Normal nor Ghost Pokemon could affect each other using solely moves of their type. She gave an awkward smile. "Ehh, easy thing to forget."

“Oh,” Aedre said, laughing lightly. The type immunities had completely slipped her mind, with her caught up in what Decus might feel and everything. She paused, then focused on Amber. “I think Decus is pretty much out, considering how much damage he's taken, so let's just say it's Almadine's win on that one.”

At Aedre's words, Almandine perked up from her disappointed slouch.

"Ah, well Decus put up a good fight there," Amber replied. It was probably best for him not to get knocked out, if this was his first trainer battle. "Alma, you did great too, but it's time to come back now." Grumbling at the current unsuited match, the Sableye slunk away from her opponent and let Amber return her. Hopefully the one victory would mean something to her, at least.

Taking another Pokeball, the researcher sent her Anorith back into the fray. "Your turn again, Larimar!" The fossil Pokemon eyed Little with caution. While most Rock types had the advantage over Flying types, her Bug typing cancelled this out, at least in terms of defense. The fact that she had yet to learn a Rock type move meant this fight could go either way.

"Use Scratch!" At Amber's command, Larimar sped forward and lashed at the bird.

“Little, let's try that Quick Attack again!” Aedre shouted.

On the field, Little dove down at Larimar, who was ready with her claws. The edges grazed him as he swooped past, his own attack largely bouncing off Larimar's hard exoskeleton.

“Right, rock-type resistances,” Aedre muttered, looking down at her Pokedex for guidance. “Try Peck this time, Little!”

Making a turn in the air, Little dove again, beak shooting down at Larimar.

The beak struck with perfect precision, jabbing between the segments of Larimar's shell. The Anorith tottered on her claws before steadying herself, her guard back up.

"Defend with Harden!" Amber called. Larimar's carapace began to shine as she braced herself for Little's next move.

With the Harden taking effect, Little's attack was largely absorbed by Larimar's shell. Aedre hesitated, glancing between the Anorith and Little, who'd swooped up to a hover out of reach of Larimar's claws. At this rate, Larimar's Scratches would be more efficient than Little's Pecks, but did that justify a Growl? If Aedre remembered correctly, moves like Growl and Tail Whip were most effective at the beginning of a battle, not in the middle of one. But, at the same time, maybe she was looking at it all too formulaically; battles weren't all black-and-white, predictable based off number alone, so maybe the best thing to do was to stop treating it as such.

“Growl, Little!” Aedre glanced down at her Pokedex. Growl, then more Pecks? Or another Growl?

She looked up as Little uttered out a harsh, drawn out sqawk, realizing Little truly held the advantage here, since Larimar didn't seem to have access to rock-type moves. As an airborne fighter, Little could launch a slew of Growls without fearing an attack. But, Larimar's Hardens would easily bring him back up to speed, so that tactic was out.

“Follow that up with another Peck, Little!” Aedre shouted.

On her command, Little swooped down again, beak-first.

Larimar scuttled back from the squawk, her wing-like protrusions bristling. When she advanced again, it was with much more subdued movements. Before she could retaliate or dodge, the beak jabbed another chink in her armour.

Amber thought fast. Growl and Harden meant physical attacks would be dampened on both sides, so a change of strategy might give Larimar the advantage. "Water Gun this time!" she commanded.

The Anorith raised her head, launching a stronger water blast than before at the bird. While Water Gun was far from her most powerful attack, having a non-physical move to fall back on could prove useful in situations like this.

Aedre's widened as Little fell, wings bogged down by Larimar's Water Gun. On Decus the Water Gun's effects had been negligible since only his sash was a target, but on Little, his entire body was at risk, being covered with feathers. And, since he was left a much more susceptible target as a result of the Water Guns, Aedre doubted the battle would be long. Maybe she'd be able to drag the battle out like before, but the end result was the same, and she'd rather not prolong a battle to no end.

“Little, let's give that one more shot. Try and dodge the Water Guns and get in another Peck,” Aedre called.

Little shook his feathers off and took to the air again, shakily, then aimed at Larimar yet again.

As the repeated Flying type attacks wore her down, Larimar stumbled, scratches showing on her carapace despite her boosted defense. Even so, she regained her balance, her focus on her opponent just as intent.

"It shouldn't take much more!" Amber called. "Again, Water Gun!" Just as Little rose back up, Larimar shot another water burst into the sky, striking the aerial fighter with perfect accuracy. The bird, feathers waterlogged, swayed in midair and began to drift down.

“Good job, Little. Take a rest,” Aedre said, returning Little from where he landed. Then, after a beat of silence, Aedre looked to Amber with a smile that relaxed as she spoke. “That was a good battle. Fun, even. We should do that again sometime—maybe after I work with Decus some more.”

Amber smiled back. It had been a close one, but that meant worthwhile experience for both of them, and both Pokemon teams. "Yeah. You put up a good fight there," she told Aedre, "and once you've trained up Decus a little more... Well, with those moves, anyone who challenges you will have to be very careful indeed."

With a slight laugh, she crouched down to Larimar. Chalcedony crawled over, nuzzling his fellow fossil Pokemon, while Kyra bounced and yapped, an equally excited Aeshna darting from side to side above her. "I see that's boosted your morale," she said, taking the Anorith's Pokeball. "Come on back now, let's get you healed up."

She returned Larimar and headed back to the Pokemon centre, glancing over at her friend. It had just been a quick training session, the victory a matter of luck. She hoped Aedre, who'd been a hair's breadth from winning, wouldn't take the loss too badly in light of recent events.

Aedre was a bit lost in her thoughts after the battle, unable to help a roll of disappointment in her loss. Though she kept telling herself that it was normal, natural even, to lose to a trainer so early on, especially one more experienced than her like Amber, a loss could only signify bad things, not good.

Catching Amber's glance at her, Aedre straightened, putting on a smile again. “I'm fine, really. It was a good fight.” Which it was. It really was, and with this in mind Aedre willed herself to stop being disappointed because it was a slippery and unproductive slope to resentment, and that wasn't the original goal.

“Hey, I lost today, but I'll beat you one day,” she said, flashing a grin at Amber. Competition academic settings were no different from Pokemon battles: there were winners and losers, and most people involved had competitive streaks.


@LuckyBlackCat

Ilsa Waters

Johto Waters

The water was a cold blanket around Ilsa, rushing past her in a coherent current as she dove deeper. Light was fading fast, not that there was much to see in this part of the ocean. Middling waters were usually uneventful and murky, good for safety but dull to pass through. That it was a cloudy day didn’t help the scenery; waiting for sunlight to dive was recommended procedure, but if Ilsa did that she may as well hang up her gear. In the summer sunny days could be reliably expected, but now that autumn had set in there was less daylight and more haze, making for dim lighting in the ocean’s vast middle that only grew dimmer as Ilsa descended.

Vaughn, Ilsa’s Carvanha, was her preferred method of transport through the deep blue. Though smaller than her in size, he could pull her through the water at the sacrifice of speed, and not that much of it either. A combination of Aqua Jet speed and Speed Boost ramping had gone into developing Vaughn’s current state of motion, and a couple of weeks of practice later, Vaughn could blow most competitors out of the water—sometimes literally, by striking from below when near the surface. Much to Vaughn’s displeasure, Ilsa would unabashedly admit that getting him there was a struggle, even if that wasn’t apparent from the way he wielded his prowess in the water. The last time she’d brought it up she’d gotten a Water Gun to the face, which earned Vaughn a decent attempt at a Tackle in response.

In the ocean, though, diving was more Vaugn’s thing than hers, especially at this depth, where even light had a hard time penetrating. The colors too had gone, swallowed up by the vast blue sea, leaving only a murk between blue and green that tended more towards grey than anything.

It was at this point that the bottom of the ocean began to materialize. Blackness gave way to an ashen landscape of canyons and trenches that were once peaks and valleys, or so people were fond of telling Ilsa. Cities and skyscrapers were before her time, and her only references had been soggy magazines and pictures passed around by returning divers. After she arrived at the diving academy, she got to see these man-made ‘wonders,’ but at that point they’d already been claimed by the sea.

As the canyon below came into focus, Ilsa could begin to make out the distinct features of the underwater cliffs: the pathway of a past river, the road of a route traversing the cliff, and the tatters of a bridge connecting the two sides of the canyon.

A point had Vaughn bring her over to the route, a stretch of footpath that trainers likely tread flat in a less watery time. Taking a moment to mime walking for Vaughn, exaggerating the movement of her arms and legs to do so, Ilsa spotted a curious indent on the cliff face across the broken bridge. Vaughn helped her across the canyon after a brief moment of impatient signalling, bringing Ilsa to the strange symbol carved in the wall face. But, as they swam over, Ilsa saw something even better than a strange symbol in rock: a cave entrance. A grin hung on her face as she patted Vaughn, pumping her fist. And, after a final glance at the symbol, which was symmetric and spiny, perhaps missing a circle from the bottom, Ilsa headed for the cave.

The low cave entrance set the water level for the inside of the cave as well, allowing Ilsa to swim into the cave. As she swam, she was able to make out intricate tiling along the entrance, which opened up to a large, round room. A blue outline spanned the floor of the room, almost like a group of symmetric symbols, but either way Ilsa was excited at the prospect of this find. It seemed like she’d chanced upon ruins that may have been considered ‘ruins’ even before the great floods. True relics—the mere prospect was tantalizing, and Ilsa patted Vaughn to indicate her desire to surface.

Ilsa’s head broke water inside the cave, and she removed her mask to take a breath of preserved cave air. Other than occasionally being a bit stale or moldy after so long underwater, most pockets of air trapped in caves were entirely breathable, and Ilsa made sure she took advantage of this.

“Well, would you look at that, Vaughn.”

Now that Ilsa had removed her mask, letting it hang at her neck by its strap, she saw the cave in all its glory: a circular room with intricate red-and-gold designs circling the walls, broken only by a purple-and-black band of equally mysterious designs. That the room predated the flood was obvious, but by how much? A hundred years or a thousand?

“Worthless though, if we can’t move it,” Ilsa said, having finished her scan of the room. At her side, Vaughn grunted in agreement.

Now that she had a better view of the room’s circular shape, Ilsa also realized that the room did not, unfortunately, have any other passageways. It was self-contained, ending at its walls, it seemed, and therefore would likely offer her little more than a view at best. Wild Pokemon typically needed a sizable amount of space to survive, and this room failed to provide anything but a shallow pool and decent airspace. And, since she’d never been one to simply admire, Ilsa strapped her mask back on and blew out the water before diving back into the water,

Looking over the room once more, though, Ilsa’s eyes caught on one of the tiles towards her left. Unlike the other tiles, which were arranged in a smooth red and yellow pattern, it seemed like one block had come out of the design. Encouraged by the possibility of taking something—anything—back from this largely fruitless trip, Ilsa directed Vaughn towards the block.

Up close, the tiles seemed to be made of some sort of red stone, which peeked out where the paint had chipped. The block that had captured Ilsa’s attention moved at her touch, and after a moment’s struggle trying to find a grip on it in the narrow crevice its displacement provided, it came out easily, two hands in length and rather thin as well. But, rather than leaving a shallow space in the wall, it seemed that the hole it left behind was rather deep, prompting Ilsa to bend down and peek in. A grin instantly lit her face, and she snatched the object from inside without another thought.

Snapping off her mask, Ilsa turned the object this way and that, frowning. “Found something, but what is it?”

In her hands was a red-tinted, spherical ball of sorts. It appeared to be metal plated, judging by the way it sounded when Ilsa tapped it, and from its weight she guessed that its interior was likely made of something else—wood or plastic, most likely. And, much like the room it inhabited, the ball was covered in symbols and intricacies, circles and lines that deterred Ilsa from her urge to pass it to Vaughn for a hearty Bite. Since she couldn’t determine the value of the ball, she couldn’t guess whether its value would increase or decrease if she opened it, much less if she damaged it. So, deciding the best course of action would be to save it for appraisal, she tucked it in the satchel on her back.

“Right. This time for sure,” she said to Vaughn, who snorted some water in Ilsa’s direction as she adjusted the oxygen tanks strapped at her sides. She was running low on the left one, and she didn’t want to have to switch on the way back, so she figured it’d be better to switch now. Unfortunately, since oxygen tanks were refilled and recycled, she couldn’t just ditch the dead weight, though the thought had often crossed her mind. Replacing a metal tank was much more costly than just refilling one, and unfortunately she hadn’t had the best luck diving last week.

Ilsa replaced her diving mask and mouthpiece, then uttered a muffled “Ready” with a thumbs up. When Vaughn drifted over, Ilsa grabbed onto the spines atop his back, thanking her lucky stars again for the wetsuit designer who had the forethought to reinforce the palm area. Vaughn’s bone-like spines pushed back as she held on during his dive, though she kept her eyes trained ahead as they exited the cave.

Outside, the ocean remained its usual murky blue, but this time it wasn’t empty; a Sharpedo seemed to have started patrolling the outside of the cave, and its eyes lit up when it saw Ilsa and Vaughn appearing at the cave entrance. Lunging at them, the Sharpedo bared its jaws, its eyes glowing with the remnants of a Focus Energy.

Vaughn, though, was quick on the uptake, having experience on his side. Turning towards the Sharpedo, Vaughn opened his jaws to fire a Screech. Underwater, the harsh, high-pitched cry translated into a faint buzzing in Ilsa’s ears, invisible as it traveled towards the Sharpedo. And, just as the move seemingly hit—the Sharpedo’s eyes widening, then closing and quenching its previous glow—Vaughn veered away from the surprised Pokemon, starting a Water Jet to amp up his speed.

As Vaughn blasted away, Ilsa looked back at the Sharpedo they’d left behind, who now seemed to have a trainer by its side. So it wasn’t a wild like she’d thought, but who was it? A fellow diver, trailing her out here to steal her glory, or someone else entirely? But, that was gone from her mind when the trainer mounted their Sharpedo, seemingly intent on giving chase. Patting Vaughn, Ilsa turned back around, focusing on the way back.


The Shoal

Ilsa toweled her hair off, walking towards her chair where her wetsuit hung, drying. It was the only chair, at the only table in her modest room atop the inn. Since she was one of the more profitable divers, she’d been able to afford her own room—an opportunity she jumped on as soon as she could. Her savings were meager because of it, sure, but she had little else to spend on but better equipment, and she was already buying on the upper spectrum.

Sitting and letting the towel hang over her shoulder, Ilsa picked up the ball she’d retrieved from the underwater ruins, holding it up to the light to examine it more closely. There were, curiously, no scuffs or scratches on the ball’s metal surface, nor were there any clear cracks to indicate an opening. But, since the ball had to have been made somehow, Ilsa figured it was probably that the openings just couldn’t be seen—or that she wasn’t looking in the right place.

The patterns on the ball, now that Ilsa had more time to look, seemed to resemble those on the floor of the ruins. Now dry, the design had a faint blue to it, with the same two circles and spokes as the ruin floors except arranged differently. The contrast between the blue markings and the red ball made for a striking color combination, though Ilsa hoped it was more than just for appearances. The appearance of the other diver at the cave seemed to suggest that the ruins weren’t worthless, but maybe she was pulling it too far. The area she’d been exploring could very well be another diver’s designation or territory, which she would have no way of knowing if they weren’t from the Shoal. So, at this point, she could only keep her fingers crossed the local appraiser could find some worth to the metal-plated ball.

Grabbing her jacket and bag, she headed for the local tavern where people often congregated. The appraiser was often there around the evening, looking for work or just being merry, and Ilsa was looking forward to catching up with some of her peers. As she was a solitary diver, she seldom saw her fellow diving academy graduates when out diving, so visiting hotspots like the tavern or restaurants was one of the only ways Ilsa could stay connected with her peers.

“Yo, Ils!” Kelvin called, catching up to Ilsa at the tavern door, his curly hair plastered to his head. “Long time no see.”

“Heya Kel. Been diving?” Ilsa asked, pulling the door open for them both. Inside, the tavern was the usual bustle of motion, scattered tables and rearranged chairs to accommodate its varied guests. A few careless puddles, likely from spilt drinks or wet clothes, were being mopped up by a slow-moving Grimer. Cheer was the mood, as it often was the day before the Shiver Rill docked. Ilsa herself had a hard time staving off anticipation, having found both a Pokemon and a relic—the ball—to sell.

“Yep. Fished me a bag of Clamperl pearls for the Rill,” Kelvin said with a grin. “You? Basculin find anything good?”

“Basculin found more than Wimpod,” Ilsa said, matching his grin. “More guts too.”

“Hey, not fair I got the lame nickname,” Kelvin said, but Ilsa was heading away, waving the back of her hand as she made her way over to the appraiser.

“Murph! You got a minute?” she called out, getting the attention of the boisterous man downing wells like water. Murphy’s large beard exaggerated his movements as he snapped around to face her, the telltale tint of alcohol staining the tips of his ears.

“Ilsa, lass, business tomorrow. Today I celebrate—Mira, Calder, you—your Lileep, you—”

“Murphy!” Ilsa hissed, ducking and looking around to see who’d caught the drunkard’s words. But, aside from a few curious glances from Murphy’s equally drunk tablemates, it seemed like the buzz of the tavern had drowned out the statement.

“Oh cheer up. May as talk—no one’s got the funds to buy it off ‘ya,” Murphy said, burping. “And who’d wanna mess with Ilsa, the Basculin?”

“Tons of people,” Ilsa replied, then sighed as the barkeep slid Murphy his drinks, realizing that she’d been forgotten.

Looking around the tavern, Ilsa wondered where to start. She wasn’t one to get wasted—not often, at least—but she’d pulled in a good lot this time around. Maybe she could afford some celebration.


@Kuro
Driven by the desire to find food, I return to my previous route and head further inland. I keep a lookout for any possible weapons—sticks, stones, or otherwise.
@Balthazar007 Rebranding the RP sounds like a good idea, but I don’t think I’ll be joining since my plate’s a bit full right now. That said, I hope you find new faces in the Free section!
@Alamantus Alright, adding onto the part about skills and abilities, where should I specify them in the CS?

Eryn Montero

Route 2: Outer Infested Woods || Afternoon

The morning was spent heading back and forth between the woods and Pureplain as Eryn trained her Pokemon. Much to her delight, the woods seemed to offer a bounty of fodder wilds if she looked in the right places. However, Eryn quickly realized that fodder Pokemon failed to provide her Pokemon much of a challenge, and only Tula seemed to be getting anything out of her battles, which were less about wits and strategy than about simply slapping the foe down with some well-timed Struggles.

So, on she went, leading her Pokemon deeper into the woods where danger seemed to lie around every wrong corner. Around the right corners, though, Eryn was able to pit her Pokemon against foes that weren’t felled at the first blow; wilds like Spinarak, Karrablast, and Metapod provided sufficient resistance for Eryn to practice some new tactics with her Pokemon, and soon enough Dei picked up Smokescreen, giving him access to an array of interesting ambush tactics provided he didn’t run out of energy beforehand.

But, like before, Eryn soon ran into a wall when her Pokemon grew too strong for their opponents, and after a few hours of limited success trying to find the middle threats of the Deep Infested Woods, she realized that she was probably better off moving on to the Wet Caverns to try her luck.

With this in mind, out of the woods she went, Tula in her hands and Kylie and Dei at her side. As she walked, however, she was interrupted by a cry from Kylie, which immediately preceded an extremely human call that sent Eryn whirling around in alarm, prepared to face the ghosts from the previous night. Instead, though, she found herself looking at a quintet of youngsters, all bright smiles and eyes as they fanned out around her, chattering away at her.

Eryn opened her mouth to speak, then closed it, thinking it over. ‘Mute lady?’ So her doppelganger had been busy, if not today then before. Though Eryn found it hard to believe that her double had existed before she’d first stepped foot in the woods, having put her double’s origins up to ghosts or some other mysterious origin, maybe Eryn had been looking at it wrong. Perhaps her double was another person wholly her own… but how? Why? And what were the circumstances under which she became so similar to Eryn herself?

But, these were questions that Eryn knew she’d have to save for someone else. Now, she had to address the matter of the energetic kids around her.

Biting her tongue back from another attempt to reply, Eryn opted to grin and wave enthusiastically with her free hand. One youngster requested a battle, and one requested tricks. Another offered her a white, shimmery fabric, which Eryn received with a hesitant smile, patting the youngster’s shoulder as she tucked away the scarf. She’d see that it gets to her double since she had a few questions she wanted answers to.

Pointing at the boy who had issued the battle request, Eryn grinned. This is how her double had done it, right?




@PlatinumSkink
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