ITT: We Have All Become Pokémon

(I sit down alongside PJ as I think of something to say:)

Anything really pressing your mind? I'm all ears.

*Last night, in an undisclosed location...*

Lars trudged forward, brushing past the thick foliage that by this point was concealing everything below his knees, doing his damnedest to ignore the cold and wet sensation that was permeating his entire body as bucketloads of rain poured down upon him. He called upon his inner sense of purpose to keep him warm - as if it literally made his heart burn. Fittingly enough, his expression at that time was that of a fixed, intent glare towards his destination in the centre of this thick rainforest.

Naturally, so focused he was that he was woefully unprepared for the moment he walked off a sharp incline and landed into a flooded bog in the middle of the rainforest. Now standing waist-deep in water and with muck all over him, he had to stop to growl it out; a bit like taking a deep breath, but in a way that simply puts the anger in reserve for later rather than getting rid of it entirely. Can't let perfectly good anger go to waste.

Soon enough, it subsided once he caught sight of his destination, just beyond some tall grass. What seemed to be the upside-down wreckage of a ship, partially sunken into the middle of a swampy lake and reinforced with a number of tents and scaffolds. He couldn't help but grumble to himself; what sort of Pokemon would willingly live in a dump like this, especially if they were some sort of legendary fighter? Guess just being a legendary fighter doesn't pay the bills if you don't know what to do with all that talent; that's where Lars set himself apart, he always knew. And not just because his dad had enough of a disposable income to just let him take whatever... the dad that was now dead.

It was that thought that spurred him onwards, past the increasingly-deep bog. He fired up his 'inner burning spirit' or whatever it may be described it again, to the point that he made no attempt to swim; he simply strode through the water until it was nearly up to his neck. It wasn't long before he began to climb again, ascending a set of decomposed wooden stairs, until he finally reached the door - if one could call some a piece of cloth draped over the entrance a 'door'. The guy was practically asking for challengers, but that's not why Lars was here.

The Hakamo-O did his best, given the circumstances, to delicately lift up the cloth and step inside the wooden dwelling. As he walked in, the first thing he saw was a big woollen mat, reading 'dry yourself before proceeding further. PLEASE.' Huffing reluctantly, Lars took the helpfully-provided towel and did exactly that, not wishing to shoot down his chances at what he wanted to accomplish here tonight.

The second thing of note he saw, once he walked down the hallway, was what he assumed was the main room, clearly an upturned ship's hold with a slightly... precarious looking wooden platform suspended over the water that was flooding in from outside.

"'Ey! ...Hello, y'here, old mon?! ...I need yer help!" Lars called out before he took his chance at stepping up onto the platform, not wishing to chance getting wet again. He could tell the place's sole occupant was very keen on keeping the water out, what with the rugs arranged everywhere. It was then he noticed the distinct, wafting aroma of brewed Roseli berries, coming from his feet. Looking down, it seemed the resident had left behind a cup of tea with Roseli berry infused into it - that was a scent that would unfailingly put the dragon at ease. His mom would always make it for him, telling him it kept him safe from changelings... ironically enough.

He hadn't really processed how cold it had been outside until now - this being a temperate rainforest, after all, the coldness was only magnified by the humidity of the place that had even crept indoors. He couldn't resist the urge to inspect the tea. He bent down, picking it up with both claws. Still very warm indeed. Hot, even. Steaming hot, as though it had literally just been made. But if it had just been made, then surely the resident must still be here...

"Gyehehehe..." a slightly raspy voice chuckled from behind the dragon... drawing attention to the fact that the hot mug of tea he had been holding had suddenly and inexplicably vanished from his hands, a fact that he had to stop and bewilderedly shake his head about to properly wrap his head around.

"You know, kid, I could have killed you just then," he continued, followed by a rather loud slurping sound. Lars finally turned around, and almost found himself stumbling off the platform and into the drink below at what he saw, but bad experiences with falling and tripping over his own feet made him regain his balance.

Sat on the rug where there was no-one literally half a minute ago was a Shiny Mienshao, and a very aged one at that. His eyebrows were bushy and his whiskers were plentiful, his two main whiskers being especially long and fluffy. In fact, his entire fur coat was rather overly-fluffed, though quite shabby, and not enough to cover up a number of scars all over his body. The Mienshao was drinking from the mug that Lars had picked up, one of his eyes seemingly perked open at all times, possibly via an involuntary muscle spasm.

"Yyyyes, and while you've been standing there drooling, I coulda killed you some more. With this mug, even! You're making this too easy for me..."

Lars cleared his throat - he had to remember why he was here, and make a good impression. Remember - father is dead, seek improvement.

"Uh... h-how'd ya get the mug from outta..." he stuttered, his attempt at focus taking a moment to kick in. "Agh, I mean... you're Kojo th'Devil, yeah?"

"No, I'm his Substitute who somehow attained a soul. Of course I'm Kojo, you half-wit! Naturally, not so much a 'Devil' at this age, but evidently still enough to snatch my mug out from your hands! How the hell that even works, I don't know, and I've been doing it for over seventy years now! I mean come on, you've only just arrived and you're not giving me much reason to view you as an equal, a necessary prerequisite to me wanting to lend you any help!" the old Mienshao ranted, before stopping to catch his breath and take another gulp of Roseli tea.

"Y-yeah, sure, BUT... I, uh..." Lars raised a claw, trying and failing to come up with a decent comeback that wouldn't get him killed. "Well.. wh-whatever, I get yer real good an' all, an' I'm..."

"Not paying attention to your surroundings? Yes, I can tell."

"...L-look, I just need to..." Lars said, stopping himself mid-sentence. He needed to 'get serious', he knew. He needed to appear confident. Couldn't be that hard. He was confident the rest of the time. Confidence was what brought him this far!

"My name's Lars, son of Merqury. Reme- uh, yeah, that's my name!"

That statement, delivered in a suddenly bold manner as it was, had Kojo's brow raised. He brushed one of his whiskers, intrigued. "...Merqury, eh? Haven't heard much of that so-called 'pioneer' in a long time... never thought he'd 'get busy' with a lady-friend, either, but yet, here we are. That is, assuming you really are Merq's son. With how young and dumb you look, you'd think he was younger than me! Lucky, lucky bastard, he is, gyehehe..." Kojo joked, shaking his head and sipping at his tea once more.

He may have been joking, but Lars did find it helpful, in a strange way. Helpful to bring back that fuming, anger-fuelled sense of purpose. "Was, 'cause he's dead!"

Kojo paused, his 'good eye' widening for a split second, though not enough to eclipse the other eye. "...Ah. Ah. That explains it..."

"Huh?! Wh-whaddya mean, old mon?"

"If I am honest with you, kid... I knew you were coming here."

Lars almost found himself clutching his heart in surprise; with anyone else, he'd have deemed it ridiculous, but...

"Wh... how?!"

"Pff... gyehehehehehe!" Kojo chuckled, stopping to cough a little bit. "Egh... nah, not really. I just like telling mons that, see how they react. Let's me get a handle on what they want out of me. And call me presumptuous, I mean, I'm only three times your age, possibly more... but I think I can guess why you're here..."

Seemingly throwing caution to the wind, Kojo just gulped down the rest of his Roseli tea, thumping the empty mug on the floor and rose to his feet, placing one long and fluffy arm behind his back as the other began to compulsively twirl one of his whiskers, slowly walking towards the young dragon.

"You're here for revengeance, isn't that right? You just want to find the bastard what killed your dad, rip his spine out with the skull still attached and then beat his - or her! - body to a fine pulp, fine enough to make tea from, and then you drink that tea so you can taste the tears they shed as they died. ...Does that sound right?"

Lars tugged at the spiked collar he was wearing, trying to create enough room for him to gulp. "W-well... I guess, yeah! I-I mean, I dunno if they killed him, but they had somethin' to do with it, I know it! An' I wanted to kick their ass anyways, this just gives me a better excuse!"

"Gyehehehe... reminds me of my best student, Bashamo the Eggshell-Walker... I'm guessing he's the one who directed you to me, in that indirect way of his. Poor bastard wanted the same thing as you... find the one that took his voice away, kill him, eat him for breakfast. And I said the same thing to him I'm gonna say to you - sorry, can't help you with that."

Suddenly slouching in a very casual, disinterested way, he practically 'flopped' back into a sitting position. The break in the conversation caused by Lars' heart apparently sinking in his chest was long enough to allow it.

"Wh-... but, why?!"

"Gyehehe... sorry, can't say. It'd spoil the surprise."

"...Ah, wait a sec, I know what this is..." Lars managed to deduce, placing his hands upon hips and standing proud of his mental triumph over a senile old mon. "This is s'posed to be one o' those cryptic-ass life lessons yer tryin' to teach, ain't it?! Y'must think I'm some kinda idiot, mustya?!"

"Yes, yes I do."

Lars balled his claws into fists, but not out of a subconscious desire to lash out at the old mon - he was smart enough to know he'd likely get decapitated if he tried that. It was more like he was turning his claws inward - there was something about himself he was supposed to be understanding, and whatever it was, it was eluding him, making him shake and twitch and act as though steam was shooting out his nostrils.

As he cottoned onto this, he briefly stopped himself, cutting off all noise from his surroundings, and looked at his claws. He'd always really wanted to use them on something that deserved it, something that had taken away the reason for his entire being, and yet it was definitely stronger now... could it have been the same thing his dad had gotten? The one that drove Hoard completely insane? Maybe he was the one who brought it there. Maybe he was responsible for his father's death. Maybe his father was right all along.

"NNggghhh... AAAGGGHHHH!" he screamed to himself, turning heel and leaping into the water below, as though it would wash away these thoughts that suddenly began to enter his head. "Don't think o' such shit, Lars, don't do it... yanno what ya need to do... y'gotta do it, y'gotta do it, or yer'll never fuckin' get any sleep..." he began to mutter to himself, thumping the sides of his head as he began to wade through the water.

"Please use the side passage to leave, I don't want you leaving puddles all over the place. It's bad for the aroma!" Kojo called out, not receiving a response. Rather than press the trouble little dragon, he simply closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Gyehehe... that kid, he's an unbalanced little bugger, yet... it's not natural, there's something within him, something he's going to excise... sooner or later. Hopefully before I expire, gyehehe..."

edited 17th Oct '17 7:59:45 PM by PresidentStalkeyes

(I respond to Goobert's question.) When I first woke up, I found myself in some sort of tundral landscape. Let me tell you, if you like ice, then you're gonna love this place. Ice, ice, everywhere, yet not a drop to get from it. Can you imagine what it would be like, marching through the ice and snow with an unfamiliar body that could not take the cold well? (I pause.) Thankfully, there was a town nearby called Nifel that had accommodations for any non-ice type visitors. I swear, if it hadn't been for that Beartic, I would have been an owl-cicle. I went around town to get my bearings and found out that I was put on some tundra island. You'd swear if some cruel god put me in an man-sized owl's body and sent me to friggin' Greenland. Ah, but I'm rambling. Could you tell me about how you first came here?

Kitchen

*Jani nods to Marlon about the Frau* Good to hear. *before turning back to Grigori* I guess truth be told, it hasn't been all bad. Silversand after the riots was relaxing, then there was the first part of the carnival, and come to think of it...the tournament was pretty interesting.

*with a sheepish grin, Jani adds* I didn't get all that far, but it was such a rush...

(careful there...)

*then upon hearing Grigori's tale, she states* Cold as in arctic cold? Not your basic northeastern U.S. winter, I take it...phew. Can't imagine those feathers providing much protection. I'd have had to dig half a kilometer if I had your luck...

Foyer

*Tilly shrugs to Dore* The law is on your side regardless, you should know that. As for where to rest, I imagine most of these three story manors have lodgings on the second floor.

edited 17th Oct '17 8:00:41 PM by sarysa

Yes, of course, how could I forget?

He then floats to the second floor, looking for an open room and an out.

Ouch... (I say.) That must have been rough...glad you were able to find help before you froze...man, now I'm imagining what would have happened to me if I woke up there in this body...I wouldn't have lasted very long at all... (I shudder thinking about it.)

Ya know, ya never did tell us the story of how you got here, either, big guy. (Marsha says.) What's the story behind that?

Well...I actually woke up in a swamp on this island. (I start.) I thought the slime was just me sweating real hard in my sleep until I realized it was all over me...and I also noticed that I was a lot bigger, both height-wise and...heh heh... (I put my hands on my hips for a moment.)

Once I realized I was a Goodra away from everything I once knew, I, of course, panicked for a while and eventually decided to get help. I wandered around for two days until I stumbled upon the rest of the party...I can still remember that they were scolding Sushi for hunting down Fletchings...before then, I just sort of walked around eating and sleeping...and...being lonely...I think that's what the scariest part about waking up like this was...waking up as a Goodra in a place I didn't recognize without anyone to tell me what was going on. I started to feel better about being here once I found everyone else, realized what was going on, and made some new friends, though.

(Delilah puts a hand on my shoulder.)

Dang, big guy, all by yourself...in a body ya weren't used to...for two days...? (Marsha says.) That musta been rough on yas...

It was...I'm surprised I don't have nightmares about it...but hey, I eventually found the others, and I eventually found you guys, too. (I say, smiling a bit more.) Now I feel a lot better about being here.

(I hug Delilah, and she hugs me back.)

edited 17th Oct '17 8:22:22 PM by kablammin45

*My eyes shift around the room before I give Marlon an answer.*

PJ: "Eh, the usual. Being a total disaster of a person, a certain somebody haunting my dreams, same old same old."

(I mean, excluding that one thing that happened yesterday... Eh, nobody needs to know.)

edited 17th Oct '17 8:15:12 PM by CaliburnAbsoluteEX

Well, it could always be worse, right? And you know, when I said yesterday that you should just forget and move on, I didn't truly understand the severity of how fucked up she made your mind. I mean, sure, I did to some extent while Hoard was going on, but now the mention of her giving you consistent nightmares really makes me pause...almost like MK Ultra.

(I say, looking towards the kitchen after doing so. I do hear a snippet of Goobert's "story", which piques my interest.)

edited 17th Oct '17 8:24:34 PM by Team42Larson

(I listened on to the Goodra's story. But there's one thing that interested me.) Who's Sushi?

PJ: "Dunno what a Mortal Kombat spinoff has to do with this, but alright."

*I chuckle at that half-assed joke, probably just in some sorry attempt to make it seem funny.*

PJ: "...But seriously, you say I could have it worse yet you also say you underestimated my mental state... I get that you're trying to help for whatever reason, and I thank you for that, but like, I'm getting sorta mixed messages here."

edited 17th Oct '17 8:38:48 PM by CaliburnAbsoluteEX

MK Ultra was some government operation back home where the subjects were brainwashed and the like. You know, secret shit that they don't want you to know...

And mixed messages? I don't really want to sound mixed in my approach, but when I mean worse, it could literally be you hallucinating her in almost every single place we go. You say that she never leaves your nightmares a la Freddy Kruger, but in that case she'd never leave you, period.

Oh, Sushi's another one of us who got here as a Litten. She's a Torracat now, and she's gone off to do her own thing. We last saw her in Hoard. I think she's getting along just fine, though. (I explain to Grigori.)

PJ: "Yeah, I... I know what MK Ultra is. Y'think I never looked up Polybius before?"

*My tone is somewhat biting at first, but I mellow out rather quickly.*

PJ: "That aside, the thing is... I mean, I get what you're doing. I appreciate it. The thing is, when you're telling me that it could be worse... it doesn't really make my existing problems seem better? I mean like, I still have them in the first place, not like I'll suddenly deal with them better if I'm told that they're not worse than they are."

*I let a long sigh out before I get in one last word.*

PJ: "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be resisting your help like this."

(I sigh and look back to the kitchen before slowly getting up:)

Look, PJ...you've likely come to the conclusion that I may not the best one to turn to for help, but look around us...Everywhere you look, there's an outlet for help just waiting to be plugged in if that analogy even makes sense, so in all reality you have many different ways to seek help. The problems you have are like a residue, they'll be really hard to get rid of without proper utensils, of course, but with friends like us, you'll never feel alone in the face of your residual problems.

(I hop off the stairs and give PJ an acknowledging look, saying again:)

Never.

(I return to the kitchen, taking a seat alongside Marsha as I do, asking the group:)

So, whaddya fellas been talkin' about?

edited 17th Oct '17 9:44:03 PM by Team42Larson

Grigori and the big guy were just tellin' each other and Del and I about what things were like when they first got here. (Marsha explains.)

Yeah. (I say.) I never told you about what things were like for me when I originally woke up here.

(I tell Marlon my story like I did with the others.)

(The Riolu sits back down at the table with Benji and Dinah.)

Don't bring up the Bedsheets, kid... (Benji warns Dinah.)

So...you're used to this? (Dinah asks the Riolu.)

Yeah... (she answers.) It really sucks, and I get sad about it, but I'm used to it...I'm Lucy by the way. I don't usually have anyone actually try to talk to me while I'm in here.

Oh really? (Benji asks.)

No, not really... (Lucy says.)

Well, we're talkin' to ya now, kid, that's cool, ain't it? (Benji says.)

Well, yeah. (Lucy says.) What are your names?

My name is Dinah. (says Dinah.)

And I'm Benji. (says Benji.) Hey, kid, don't tell anyone else, but I'm actually a Ditto!

No way! (Lucy says.)

Yes, way! (Benji says. To demonstrate, Benji turns into a duplicate of Lucy herself for a few seconds.)

Wow...that is so cool...! I've never met a Ditto before! (Lucy says.) What all else can you turn into?

(Soon, Benji and Dinah are chatting with this young Riolu about Benji and being a Ditto as they read their books.)

*The muddled analogies bring a reluctant smile to my face.*

PJ: "I mean... I dunno how many friends I actually have here, but... thanks. I'll keep that in mind."

...

Ignored.

"Ahem... well, uh... he's right, you know! You got friends left and right here! Just... chill, alright?"

Dore, meanwhile, having found a currently empty room, floats into it and falls asleep.

(I listen to Goobert's story, feeling rather befuddled, but actually pretty amazed:)

Woah, dude...spending two days in a body that ya didn't know...and ta think that the story of how I got here sounds so minuscule compared to yer story.

edited 18th Oct '17 5:48:32 AM by Team42Larson

Deciding to break off, Finley turns to Goobert and listens into his story.

"... Woah. Hey, ya know, I got a pretty wild story about all that myself. See, I used to be-"

Nah. Nah, they can figure that out when the time comes. Finley quickly realizes what she's saying and just as quickly hushes up.

"Nnnnnevermind. You had it rough, Goob. Sorry about that."

Well, like I said, at least I found you guys pretty fast, and that's good enough for me. (I say.) I can only imagine how long I would have been out there by myself if I had never found you guys. (I make a quite worried expression as I think about this. What would have happened to me had I never found the party? I brush the thought from my mind.)

(Then I add as I lean against Delilah.) Between you and me, though, Grigori's story probably blows my story right out of the water, if what he told me, Marsha and Del is any indication. You should ask him about it sometime.

edited 18th Oct '17 6:51:33 AM by kablammin45

(I similarly lean against Marsha as I make my next point:)

Man, I can't help but wonder what he had ta go through for ya to say that, dude.

(I shift my eyes around to both Grigori and Finley as I think for a moment. Who was she before this? What kind of danger did Grigori put himself in? I don't say anything more for the moment.)

(While leaning up against Marsha, I don't say much of anything, but I look up at her and whisper to her about Finley:)

Say uh, Marsh...ya caught that right? How Finley apparently used to be someone else but cut herself off before she said anythin'?

edited 18th Oct '17 9:10:32 AM by Team42Larson

"..."

Finley tries to ignore Marlon's gaze, instead turning to Grigori.

"Ya know, I saw you around but never met you proper. I guess now's kind of a weird time to do this, but I can't see us being active for a bit so I may as well. My name's Finley!" She puts out her paw.

[Continuing to draw, my hand begins to cramp. It's a familiar feeling...usually, I get it when scrawling out notes for school, but I do get it sometimes when I draw... I let my arm hang over the armrest as i sag further into the marshmallow cushions, content on waiting the cramp out. I look up at the Latios again, and smile. Right here...I could do it. There's no one else here with me, they wouldn't know...and if Morbitesse was able to see that this cloaked Salazzle was still me, then perhaps me becoming something else wouldn't register either...]

[The painting is quite lifelike...I stand up and approach it...it feels as if I'm staring through a window or at a photograph, I've always loved seeing these paintings, being unable to tell life from depiction...it's always a scavenger hunt to find the tell, the overeager stroke, a slightly screwy patch of shading, something little like that. Perhaps I'm giving the painting a little too much credit, but it's not hard to believe that this was still life, at the very least taken from something tangible, something real...]

[...I get a little giddy: I clasp my hands together, grinning ear to ear (or the lizard's equivalent), excitedly looking around me to make sure I'm still alone. This is...kind of a once in a lifetime opportunity here...I do recall Yalta's words, but I doubt we're ever going to meet...well, another Legendary (I couldn't forget that scamp Manaphy), at least not anytime soon. There's not really any reason to, outside of honing my ability as I did earlier today, but that may just be the only reason I need: the others may train in the dojo, I train with this. It is taxing, though not nearly as much as it was, and if I want to get better at it, bounce back a little more from the lightheadedness and tiredness that Transforming inflicts, I'm gonna need to be able to push myself further.]

[...y'know, it actually occurs to me that maybe I should also try and train with them, too. I know having a wide variety of moves Sketched and forms to take is good and all, but if I don't know how to use it, I'll be in deep water in case we ever need to fight. I'm not exactly the best fighter, I know that much...the remnants of my knowledge in aikido, as helpful as it may be in stupidly specific CQC situations, won't do me any good here. Maybe I could spar with some of the others some time...either way, I move back and take my seat, going back to drawing. This can wait...I have plenty of time...]

Well, all of yas were someone else before you got here, right? She a special case like Giggles or somethin'? (Marsha says to Marlon, mildly confused.)

(I give a confused look to Delilah. Is there something about Finley that I somehow missed?)