... Oh my Arceus, this is happening...
A trainer just died... A trainer was just attacked by a Pokemon... and they died...
Lucien's mind was racing a mile a minute - no, a mile a second - until he realized that he was in pain. Vera might as well be a Corphish at this point, the way she had a Vice Grip on him. Her nails were digging into him a bit, and his side was still bugging him from the night before, so the combination of pain and the terror felt was enough to put Lucien on edge - rather, it was enough to have Lucien connect a rope to the edge, put himself in a harness, and dangle off of the edge, thousands and thousands of meters above the endless ever-expanding field of sharp spiked of instability and insanity.
Lucien's hand slowly moved to his neck, checking his own pulse. His heartbeat was quickening, his breaths were shortening, he was shivering, and though he was already immensely pale, he could feel that the blood was leaving his head. He wanted to stay with Vera, to calm her down, but something in his mind was screaming now, begging, pleading, ordering, demanding, mandating, shrieking for him to hide, to get as far away as he could and stay hidden until the tournament was over - or worse, his inevitable death came knocking.
Someone just died... someone just died in front of me... someone just died in front of me, and if I try to get out of this mess, that'll be me... I-I'm gonna die here... They're gonna kill me... They're gonna get me...
His fear turned to paranoia in waves. His heartbeat went up further, he shivered more, his near white skin grew more pallid, his breathing was picking up speed... He darted his head around to look at everyone over, and over, and over... he was going to die here. If a Pokemon didn't get him first, they would. He could just feel it, they were going to get him. It didn't matter whether he fought back or not, he was going to die. Would it be by fire? By drowning? Would he be eaten? Would he simply be left to fend for himself, caught in the wilderness until a Pokemon found him? Would he die by the hands of another? Would Vera maliciously tear him apart, right here and now?
Would he be the first to go?
Chevron knew Lucien was having a relapse, he's seen it before, but none have been this bad. Something was really wrong, more than what was literally dead in front of them. He went to nudge Lucien, but noticed his shivering and stopped. After letting out a pitiful low huff, he looked pleadingly at the other trainers. Someone had to be able to do something to help him!
The idea of inevitable death and sheer hopelessness kept eating away at Lucien's psyche as he stood, a shivering mess of paranoia and fear of a series of hypotheticals that could not be prevented should they start to happen. The pain he felt from being held tightly by Vera washed away, as did nearly the rest of the world in his eyes, replacing itself with utmost dread of what was to come.
It's the end...
A trainer just died... A trainer was just attacked by a Pokemon... and they died...
Lucien's mind was racing a mile a minute - no, a mile a second - until he realized that he was in pain. Vera might as well be a Corphish at this point, the way she had a Vice Grip on him. Her nails were digging into him a bit, and his side was still bugging him from the night before, so the combination of pain and the terror felt was enough to put Lucien on edge - rather, it was enough to have Lucien connect a rope to the edge, put himself in a harness, and dangle off of the edge, thousands and thousands of meters above the endless ever-expanding field of sharp spiked of instability and insanity.
Lucien's hand slowly moved to his neck, checking his own pulse. His heartbeat was quickening, his breaths were shortening, he was shivering, and though he was already immensely pale, he could feel that the blood was leaving his head. He wanted to stay with Vera, to calm her down, but something in his mind was screaming now, begging, pleading, ordering, demanding, mandating, shrieking for him to hide, to get as far away as he could and stay hidden until the tournament was over - or worse, his inevitable death came knocking.
Someone just died... someone just died in front of me... someone just died in front of me, and if I try to get out of this mess, that'll be me... I-I'm gonna die here... They're gonna kill me... They're gonna get me...
His fear turned to paranoia in waves. His heartbeat went up further, he shivered more, his near white skin grew more pallid, his breathing was picking up speed... He darted his head around to look at everyone over, and over, and over... he was going to die here. If a Pokemon didn't get him first, they would. He could just feel it, they were going to get him. It didn't matter whether he fought back or not, he was going to die. Would it be by fire? By drowning? Would he be eaten? Would he simply be left to fend for himself, caught in the wilderness until a Pokemon found him? Would he die by the hands of another? Would Vera maliciously tear him apart, right here and now?
Would he be the first to go?
Chevron knew Lucien was having a relapse, he's seen it before, but none have been this bad. Something was really wrong, more than what was literally dead in front of them. He went to nudge Lucien, but noticed his shivering and stopped. After letting out a pitiful low huff, he looked pleadingly at the other trainers. Someone had to be able to do something to help him!
The idea of inevitable death and sheer hopelessness kept eating away at Lucien's psyche as he stood, a shivering mess of paranoia and fear of a series of hypotheticals that could not be prevented should they start to happen. The pain he felt from being held tightly by Vera washed away, as did nearly the rest of the world in his eyes, replacing itself with utmost dread of what was to come.
It's the end...