Private/Closed The Ten Carat Depths

[BurbleBurble]

Ten Carat Hill.

Such an odd place, once a diamond mining facility, giving the hill it’s namesake, now nothing more than a scenic spot off the trails.

There’s a good reason for that, and it’s a rather odd one.

It was around forty years ago when the miners perhaps dug too deep. They found an odd black object sealed within a chamber of some kind- whatever it was, the miners expected it to be a black diamond of sorts. There was soon quite an effort to go dig it up, but complications kept occurring. Unusually large, violent Pokemon began attacking, followed with swarms of weaker yet numerous Pokemon. Several sections of the mines had become flooded with seawater, as building a mine on top of a Underwater Volcano turned out to not be the most solid idea. One thing lead to another, and the mines were condemned and permanently shut down, and the black diamond was never extracted.

But the mines weren’t completely sealed, and while most of the equipment and housing around it had been ruined by nature or vandalized, the mines entrance had only been haphazardly boarded up, and unsurprisingly the planks they had put up were ripped down by rebellious teens interested in going places they shouldn’t. Many amateur filmmakers have recorded tapes of the mines, but other than water filled caverns and the occasional diamond left unmined not much has come of it, nor had anyone discovered the supposed black crystal lying in the deep.

But now... Something stirs in the depths, and with it the mines become less stable. And the shafts resting near the surface are no exception...and unwitting bystanders are flung into the deadly tunnels below.
-----
Anyways, welcome to “The Ten Carat Depths”. That intro tells you everything you’ll need to know about the background of this roleplay, but there’s still more I need to tell you, mostly in rules. Basically give these a quick rundown of what I expect.

Spoiler: Rules

1- Decently sized posts. At least two paragraphs a post, though honestly the more words the better.

2- No Mary Sues. Just...No.

3- No God modding. Most battles are going to be against wild Pokemon, not other trainers, so this isn’t too much of a problem, but your Pokemon still can’t just dodge every attack thrown at them and land each of theirs no problem. On the same note, don’t expect young Pokemon, like say, an Eevee, to do significant damage to a full grown Gigalith. That rock wall will shrug it off without a scratch to spare.

4- I'm going to say bend your realistic view for a moment for the sake of the RP. There's no danger or fun if we just dig or blow our ways out of the mines

5- If you want to join, please shoot me a message! It can be a profile comment or a conversation, either works.

That’s all, and with that, on with the show!

-----

Hmmm.

Yeah, Gerald decided. This Ten Carat Hill place was boring...Along with pretty much the rest of the island. This Melemele place wasn’t full of exciting ventures, mostly just small sights and vistas, along with the boasted “biggest city in Alola” Hau’oli. But compared to Akala, the island he was staying at, which had a frickin’ volcano? This place was probably the least Alola had to offer.

Not that boring was a bad thing, in particular. It could’ve been dangerous instead. In fact, Gerald was quite surprised he hadn’t been roped into a mass Pokemon stealing scheme, some heinous Team Rocket plot, or mauled by wild Pokemon, knowing his terrible luck. Still, boring was boring, and Gerald was ready to get out of this hill place. It was pretty while it lasted.

“June, Switchblades, let’s get out of here.”

June, his trusty Delphox companion, had been out simply to accompany Gerald- He’d probably never say it outright, but she was his favorite- also he wasn’t about to travel around in the wilds without her heightened sense. The Switchblades were a little more of a strange choice, but for whatever reason, the two had been incredibly stubborn in...searching for something. Their diligence was appreciated in finding potential issues, even if they did run off time to time.

They could feel it. Something lurked on these islands, they could tell. Their dark lord, perhaps? It was hard to tell. So closely the swords had felt it- they saw it’s glorious face - yet why could they not recall the energy it emitted? Oh well. Something had to show up. And this Ten Carat Hill reeked of...Something. While they hadn’t found the something, they had been searching all afternoon- it obviously wasn’t on the surface, what they were searching for. And long as boring old Gerald and the fox were around, they weren’t going underground. Not that there seemed to be any way to go into the earth...With a grunt, they returned to their trainer’s side.

To even get into Ten Carat Hill’s interior, one would have to go through a small cave, not particularly dangerous or imposing. As Gerald head towards it, his Pokemon in tow, the Switchblades took one last bitter look…

But then they saw it. Behind rusted, green machinery and vine-entangled supports, was a man made tunnel...one of those mines. Just like the Terminus Cave, on a smaller scale. And obviously relatively unknown, considering it’s disuse. With widened eyes and excitement, the swords rushed to tug and stop their fellow teammate and trainer,

June gave an angry grunt to the one tugging on her tail. She never really liked the Switchblades, finding them brutish and overly obsessed with this Dark Lord shenanigans. She was occasionally willing to throw them a bone… but not when acting like children.

Gerald was a little more receptive to the one that tugged on his vest. “What is it, Switchblades…? Oh.” Spotting the entrance to the old mine shaft and it’s various abandoned machines, yellow paint chipped away to reveal layers of rust. “What’s this?” He couldn’t help but marvel at the long unused devices and machines, how nature intertwined them with vines and moss. Presumably what used to be an office, or some sort of work house, had been similarly broken and destroyed by time, It’s few standing walls littered with graffiti, spouting profanity and faded pictures. No doors, no roof, no windows, and what appeared to be inside was plant life along with dull art of rebellious teens.

And finally the entrance to the mines- unstable looking and eerily quiet. Above the entrance were some words that reminded him of another spooky cave, “STARE INTO THE ABIS”. They probably meant abyss, but the misspelling kinda took away the effect of the words, but the cave nevertheless was still ominous. The Switchblades eagerly awaited for Gerald to go in and follow, but June was quite apprehensive. Terminus was a big and open cave, but this was a full on claustrophobic mine. She was not going to let that get on the next list of scarring locations.

Gerald, while certainly not the sharpest tool in the shed, but he wasn’t a dull one either. And from personal experience, this was bad news. “Yeaaah...Sorry guys, gonna say no to this one. I’m not going into a third death cave, thank you very much.”

With a metallic sigh, the Switchblades crossed their feelers in annoyance. Usually Gerald was dumb enough to fall into their plans...erm, all two of them they pulled off. Inversely, June sighed if relief. A bullet dodged, thankfully.

“Well, come on guys! Let’s get going again!” Gerald said, changing the subject and leaving the mine behind, in favor of the exit to Ten Carat Hill. June followed closely by, the Switchblades trailing back a little, still disappointed at not exploring the underground and finding their lord.

But deep within the Ten Carat Mines, in the very depths, dim multi-colored lights shone. Something powerful shook those old supports, cracking them under their burdens. Awakened were mammoth beings, ready to defend their territories and feed in the mine they called home, brought into action by that unseen force...stone ceilings threatening to fall, bringing down the ground above.

The very depths called, and the mines answered.

 

[Storybook]

Running.

Exhilaration. Adrenaline. Precision. Definition. Decision.

Timing immaculate, feet precise, toes splayed, narrow eyes. Taste the bitter scent of salt, the rush of air, the wind's assault, feel the burning thrill ascend, seeping between muscle's cracks. With world as silent as empty space, let the heart beat and race. Blood was meant to surge, to flow, from tips of ears to pads of toes, spread the heat out towards the chill, to be whisked away by running's thrill. Trees and branches tear and scratch, eat at pelt and rake the air, dip and duck, don't fear their touch, slip by like the wind, with a silent rush.

Exhilaration. Adrenaline. Precision. Definition. Decision.

Be immaculate as a sugar crystal, coarse as a stallion, sleek as a Rapidash, faster than sound. Everything that moves you see, scent the air, taste its glee, run like gods and leap like the pegasus, wings spread, piercing eyes. You don't need to hear sound, but feel its touch, embrace the echoes of a falling branch tingling at the pad. Deaf just means there's more to gain, for only deaf can outrun sound, leap so high that there's nothing but wind around, land so light your own vibrations escape, your pads are chilled, let your heart race.

Run. Race. Keep in pace. Outfly the sky, outdash the beast, outpace the horse, outclass the wolf beside you.

Feel their breath, hot against your thigh, leaning forwards right beside you, veering as you glance off a tree's trunk to return a hair's width faster, faster, faster. Snarl low and growl madly, win, you want to win so badly, you are beast and they are pet, you are strength that has not been met, you have won and shall not fall, you alone can beat them all. You are quiet, sandstorm's nightmare, they are but a blackened scorch of fur that should be lighter. Feel the wind as if it could howl (they must think it's oh so shallow), the grit of salt between your fangs, like grains of sand, let it claw at your lips and be your guide, draw you like the moon draws the tide. Champion of bodily precision, athlete, master, faster than a horse, you can outrun sound.

Run. Race. Escape the pace. Outfly the sky, outdash the beast, outpace the horse, you are wild, you are master, you are wolf.

Velvet raced.

For a Herdier, she was something quite different to a lap dog. Her legs longer, they gave her the gait of something wild, sleek and silent, so that when she moved forwards at a jaunting pace her back lay straight, and when she ran it hunched and hunkered, tight and powerful, built for muscle. Her jaws, too, were grander than those normally present in her species, with a long and tight lower jaw that gave her the biting power of a full-grown Lycanrok, quite a contrary to the pudginess of what was to be expected. One ear was folded down, the other perked yet deathly still. Her coat was thick and short, cropped and tattered, choked with sand and dust and laced with salt so that the usually clean and uniform blue was now a thick, grainy brown in spots, or grey in others, or white like sand. She was much more of a beast then a pet, more of a rogue than a friend, more of a wolf than a dog.

The wolf: the real, the true, the wild wolf; that ran beside her only emphasized these points. At no factor of time did this great grey beast, a massive creature of nearly twice her size, make the viewer think Velvet was more tame in comparison. Their snarls were matched with an equal ferocity, their gait failed to outpace the other, their coats were just as thick and harried, their eyes as focused and gaze as solid as coal. In fact, Velvet seemed to fit right in with the imposing grey midday Lycanrok, much more than if she was placed beside a member of her own species. The heave of their flanks as they fought to outpace the other was just harsh enough that it even made the viewer question whether either, at any point in their lives, had been either Lillipup or Rockruff, so focused was their stamina, so precise were their legs, landing with each massive stride with such force that their paws splayed, the toes gripped at rock and earth for just long enough to leave a track in the dirt.

This was a good thing for their unfortunate trainer, who was left trailing a smoke trail of misplaced earth and crooked leaves. She moved at a much slower pace, although the fastest one that could be mustered while still carefully tracing the tracks with smoking eyes. Once, it could have been said that they were always dreaming, clouded by a mist of fine imagination and diction, lost in an endless track of beauty and wonder and stories. But they no longer dreamed. They smoked. Like there was some grand fire slowly dying within her, some treacherous blaze that blew into her irises and reddened them in all the wrong light, misted them over and teased the clouds, pretended to be grand while they dissipated, and died. And if it could be said that you could not compare Velvet to the wolf and think tame, it could also be said that some manner of that now scarred the trainer, for her hair was short and cut jagged around the shallow crevice of her face, her nose sharply curved and broken, the dips into her smoking eyes lined with salt, as crusty as the sleep that normally haunts the eyes.

Phierah's normal attire had long been discarded, replaced with a long shirt that hung above her thumbs, billowing and torn and thin as a sheet, dark white that was smoked with a glaze of dirt and sand. Her pants hung low in a similar fashion, thin and torn, ragged and whipping in the wind. Their color scheme spoke of necessity, to impede the sun's glare, their style for movement and protection, their worn demeanor a sign of strength. Their length protected her from the sun, but she wore no hat, and so her face, that should have been so pale, was red and flaking, cracked and bruised like ground that had foregone the necessity of water. The bag she'd long kept by her side was missing, it's cool refrigerator of memories abandoned somewhere in a well-kept grave. Her hands were gritty, gripping onto a walking stick as they traveled. Oh, how they'd traveled.

But her smile.
Her smile dreamed still.
It cracked wide within her peeling lips to reveal pristine white teeth, teeth that laughed and shone and welcomed you. Her teeth clacked against each other unnaturally as she laughed, and they said "hello, hello! Yes, we're a bit much, it's just been a while. Turns out the world is rougher than we thought, I guess. But look at this! It's like a contagion! The beauty, the chaos, the enthusiasm of the wild, look at this, would you! Oh, you'll love it, yes, you'll love it. There's something about living. Something about living."

And she was laughing. Laughing helplessly. Laughing at the absurdity of the moment, at the insanity of her lone hike, laughing hysterically, crying hysterically, oh Arceus, she had to find them soon, this was insane. Out on the islands with nothing but a backpack and a rowboat, left at some lonesome shore. Maybe she was running. Chasing. Seeking. But her dreaming days, now they were gone. She wasn't out here dreaming.

The girl, who looked so young yet aged, the girl with smoking eyes, walked doggedly on, apprehension in her gaze.

Oh, Arceus, she'd let them get away.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sparrow was proud.

Sparrow was fierce.

Sparrow was mean.

Sparrow would win.

Sparrow would fight.

Sparrow would tear.
And bite.
And eat.

Sparrow would outrace the sky itself. Outrace the horizon. Outrace the turning of the world. Her name was as fierce as she was. What was a Sparrow? It hadn't mattered. It was a bark, a howl, a writhing combination of thoughts and the feeling of her blood and her heart and her teeth. The lizard could enter her mind, and saw that she was Sparrow, and told the leader she was Sparrow, and Sparrow thought, I am Sparrow. I am wind. I will win.

And as Sparrow and her opponent raced neck and neck through the largely abandoned land around Ten Carat Hill, she heaved forwards, launched off a branch, heaved the whole of the sky into her lungs, and pierced the wind with a thousand note howl that shook the air around her and shuddered throughout the sky. For a moment, she followed the path of sound with her eyes, then leaned into the ground and plunged into her next pace, determined to catch up with the freedom of sound, to gain the ground back that the half-wolf so vainly took. Sparrow would not underestimate size. Sparrow would win.

Velvet and Sparrow raced shoulder to shoulder and dreamed of outracing sound as they neared, snarling and nipping, eyes blind to all but the other in pure yet malicious competition of pride. Wolf against wolf dashed across the land, their trainer steeling her nerves behind,

Racing.

 

[BurbleBurble]

The Doublade were most displeased. With every passing moment as they left, their annoyance grew and grew...that had been the closest they had ever been to their Dark Lord in the past months! But Gerald had to be smart this one time! It was so close...so close...Yet, in the meadow of Ten Carat, they heard it. Stomping and tapping of paws in fierce race. Presumably, it was just some wild Pokemon running around, but perhaps it could keep Gerald and June busy enough to formulate a new plan in getting to the unknown power within those mines.

It would be easy getting Gerald's attention. Like a Rattata...to a...an...okay, so they needed more metaphors, but the point was it was so simple a child could do it...Now that one was good. They'd need to write that down somewhere.

They smashed their blades together like cymbals, creating quite some noise. And, just as they wanted, Gerald whipped around with a face of confusion, June giving a similar one as well. And having caught what they wanted, they fled. "Hey, get back here!" He called after them, but they went around the corner, and were gone. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me. Come on June, I guess we are doing this now." June's response was that of a sigh and a growl combined.

But as they rounded the corner, the Switchblades were sitting there. Waiting. They wanted him to follow. While Gerald immediately assumed they were going to go into those dingy old caves, they obviously had different plans, as they moved further into the hill. And then? Well...they stopped. They just curled up and sat, watching with their purple eyes. There was a howl in the distance, as they waited there...just watching. It was sort of ominous, really. What were those swords waiting for?

He approached the Doublade, followed by June. And Gerald asked them: "What are you two doing?" The Doublade gestured to their right, where the source of the howl came from- two wolf looking Pokemon, coming in fast. Panic set in as he and June scrambled out of the way, just barely avoiding a head on collision with the two charging wolves. The Switchblades didn't even flinch. They were already planning. No time to flinch when planning had to be done.

Of course, their planning was interrupted when they were picked up by a very annoyed Delphox. Held by their tassels, June glared them down and growled. She already didn't like them for a myriad of reasons, and that stunt was just another on the list. For such small swords, they sure knew how to make a lot of trouble.

"Alright June, you made your point." Gerald said. Reluctantly, June dropped them, but not before growling at them again, and dropping them without any sense of care. They hit the ground with a clatter, sitting for a moment, then picking themselves up. One of them held their shook the end of their tassel in a vague fist shape at their fox teammate, while the other glared. "You two knock it off as well. We gotta get- huh?"

At that time, an dishovelled looking woman jogged into the area. She was certainly an odd sight. Yet, there was something about her. It was...familiarity? Hmm. Had he met her before? During that Tournament that funded his trip?...No, that wasn't it. A different tournament? Kalos League? No, it couldn't have been that either. He was pretty stumped.

"Oh, uh, sorry. Are we in the way?" He asked the woman.

 

[Storybook]

They witnessed her destruction,
Then were left to wonder why,
She saw nothing but darkness,
Though the stars shone in her eyes,
But maybe they'd forgotten,
When they failed to see the cracks,
That a star's light shines the brightest,
When it's starting to collapse.
- e.h (Erin Haneon)

They said that when a star was about to die, was when it's light shone the brightest. That when you've reached your peak, there's no way to go but down. That life was hills and valleys, and she'd found the top of her hill in Kalos, and had been falling down, down, down, down....

for a very long time.

But Phierah wasn't inclined to listen to what they said. It was more a matter of stubborn fury than anything else. To imply that a life's work was meant only to reach a peak, that a peak was meant only to find a valley, and that that valley would grind and cringe and collapse into itself forevermore, now that was insulting. Her dreaming days were over, yes. Her eyes smoked, sure. Her pupils burned like dying stars beneath the smoke, why not. But the valleys in life, now they were beautiful.

Have you ever been to the top of a mountain at dusk, and watched the sun scrub the earth clean in its ruby rust, pull the shadows like blankets to put down the hills, light the sky afire so the night can smoke anew? Saw the forces of nature atop them all, saw them shroud and scrub and wipe the slate clean, heave and dig at the dirt of life every night? There was no comparable feeling then standing at the top of the world, and sitting quietly while the sun departed for another night, its sighs and gasps echoing into a thousand tiny stars. It felt like power. It felt like flying. It felt like... everything, it did. And you breathed hard, too, because the world was hard work, but the sun could do it, and you and the sun held hands in the sky that night, and no one but the birds have done that for a very, very long time. She'd spent a long time on that peak, as the sun's crutch, helping it gasp back into being and wash away the smoke of the night, leading its climb through the sky, and holding its hand as it died, feeling grief and responsibility and pain and understanding that it would rise, it would rise. But until then, you sat on that mountain, and breathed the night's smoke, and beat with the heart of the stars, and you waited for it to return, for it would return. It had to. And while you sat on that mountain, you were the sun.
Metaphorically speaking.

But you can't play Atlas for too long, if you're human. Eventually, the sun comes to rise one morning, and you take its hand and it burns your hand and you take its arm and it burns your arm and you heave and pull and instead of the sun rising, you fall.

And then, you're part of the valley again.

It hurt a lot, getting down there.

But the flowers. Now, those were beautiful.

There were no flowers on the mountain.


------------------------------------------------


Phierah's lungs burned.

As she ran, her crusted eyes blinked repeatedly, smoking, the air blowing dust into them and making them rust. She'd been running for a greater half of the morning, she'd been running for a greater half of her life, chasing wind that now just chafed her; somehow, it never got any easier. Her calves no longer tore and burned, that was true, but her lungs never seemed to grow more rigid as time passed, still as soft and small and delicate as dreams. So they wilted, and she was forced to stop, rubbing a forehead sleek with sweat with the back of a calloused palm.

It was only then that she noticed the figures in front of her, her sunburnt skin blue with the realization of how focused she'd become. Just like her wolves, it seemed, blinded by desperation. But they'd disappeared again, and the distance between pokemon and trainer grew greater, and their fire tore while hers just smoked beneath them, the task once again proving unerringly futile, the task of life.

"Ha, your hair's like fire, that's funny. Do you think when you grow old, it'll grow gray, like ash and smoke?"

Had she said that?
She had.
Why was his hair like fire?
It was red.

Phi's eyes grew wide as she stepped back, her heaving form having caught her breath and cleared her vision of smoke. Recognition, surprise, fear, mistrust, recognition,

oh.

"Gerald."

And then, unbearably, she was crushed with the weight of shame. For ever believing she'd loved this valley. For ever falling from her mountain. Oh, how she'd dreamed, and he- he'd seen her dream! And now, she just smoked, and her hair was wild and torn and short, and she wore a crown of dead brambles and dry flowers, their husks shaking on her wild head, and she loved the valley, she did, she'd loved the valley, she had. So the smoking women briefly touched a spot on her chest, where hung an old, inkless pen, and said nothing as the past stood before her with a look of utter confusion, a living reminder of just one day. But all it took was one day to change a life.

A howl shattered the earth, shattered her thoughts, past them the horizon shattered and snarled and growled, there were screams, unearthly, yelps and shouts, and Phi forgot her shame and once again became Phierah, her eyes grew clouded with smoke, she pushed the man aside and started running and shouting, "stop, stop STOP" as ahead of them a wolf and a half-wolf tore at each other's throats, locked onto the other, wrestling and growling and shouting. But as wild as they were, they would not hurt her, and, with hands bare and cracked and calloused, the woman pushed their heads apart and dove between them in a lock of stones and fur and flesh and fury. For a moment, there was a pure shock of terror in the land, as the woman dove into the wild and tried to wrestle the hearts free. But as wild as they were, they would not hurt her.

The wind cooled, and brought the wolven three down from their mount of frustration, and Phierah grabbed each wolf by the mane and kissed them and hugged them and kept them apart. For such a small woman, she was even smaller between the two wolves, one a half-breed, the other black as coal, but when all was done and the world was safe and their fury, for now, was spent, she stood once more, and her heart beat, undeniably alive.

When the woman turned, it was once again with the elegance of her former years, when she'd still been climbing the mountain and kept her past safeguarded, close at her side. And when she bowed, it was with the same dreamy formality as when she'd bowed the day of the tournament, and one could just imagine the drizzle-grey cloak she'd worn even when the weather was too hot, drifting slightly at her side. But she wore no cloak, and as she bowed, the dried flower crown she was wearing tumbled to the earth with a whiff of dust, and she stared at the ground for just a little too long before picking up and putting it back on. It was made of a ring of brambles, dry and thin, and wilted flowers from all around the islands, and when she put it on, it looked ghastly and dead. She smiled, her teeth dreamed, her eyes smoked, a newfound clarity etched into their burning insides.

"Deeply sorry,"

she spoke slowly, like a tired wind, like a rising sun,

"For any trouble."

Phierah glanced down at the wolves, sprawled breathless on each side, and felt a surge through her chest.

"Fire's got a habit of spreading."

Pause.

"But it's ash, for now."

The sun moved so slowly.

"Oh, and hello."

The sky sighed,

"It's been a while."

then let the wind pick up once more.

They said that when a star was about to die, was when it's light shone the brightest,
but hers had long dimmed into smoke,
shimmering, like heat waves,
lost in mist,

biding its time.

----------------------------

Have you ever been to the top of a mountain at dusk, and watched the sun scrub the earth clean in its ruby rust, pull the shadows like blankets to put down the hills... and the valley's flowers were the most beautiful she'd ever seen, awake while the mountains slept, pulsing like stars.

 

[Curtkid]

"I gotta be honest Embertail, every vibe I'm getting from this place is just screaming "bad news"...and you know our history with caves, the last thing I want to do is enter another one..."

"Yeah, I know, but considering out bad luck with tournaments, general parties, and just about every other thing under the sun, we might as well be afraid of everything at this point. So I say: let's go in anyways just to see what happens!". the talking Charmander excitedly replied to his human brother. The said human, Curt, could only sigh and roll his eyes, of course his Charmander brother wouldn't think twice about charging into danger, he was far too optimistic to be dissuaded by the concepts of failure or bodily harm. Though, that attitude and bravery had pushed him to do things that the trainer wouldn't have had the courage to do otherwise, and right now their mission from their boss, their boy Guzma, required a certain level of bravery that the average Team Skull Grunt did not possess. It should also be noted that the two were dressed in Team Skull garments and their affiliation matched their clothing, but despite their strength in battle, they were still known as some of the more (if not most) softer members of Team Skull, and were often sent on these dangerous quests to prove themselves. This quest turned out to be finding a piece of Normalium Z, the Normal-Type Z crystal, that was rumored to possibly be in the depths of this "Ten Carrot Hill", pilfering it, and presenting it to their boss. It was already hard enough to get to this island with a Charmander who could potentially die just by taking a dip in the water (thank-you Lockjaw, their Croconaw, for getting them across).

"Well, what do you think Jasper?", Curt asked the ghostly apparition behind them, a slim, pale, undead Alolan Marowak who had a flat expression on her face. Just a few weeks ago, the ghost that followed them was just a simple Cubone, but after Jasper's sacrifice in that barons mad house resulted in her turning into a mega powerful, ghostly Spectral Marowak! Ironically, Jasper always held a deep fear of ghost, like most Cubones and even Marowak did, ironic it was that she became one of the things she feared the most, and such a transformation afflicted her emotional state heavily. Still, her team stood by her and tried to help her through her trying times, even if it was out of fear of the possibility of her moving onto the great beyond.

Jasper just gave a straight forward look to Embertail and Curt, added a shrug of indifference. Before...well, um, dying, Jasper would have been all for a risky adventure filled with peril and excitement. But now, she seemed, strangely estranged, like death had fractured who she once was and made her a mix between a stranger and an old friend to the party. She still held the same affection she had for Embertail and everyone else, but at the same time she seemed not to care to much what happened to her well-being, as though dying would almost be preferable to her current condition. Despite the massive power boost her ghostly evolution gave her, far greater then evolving into a normal Marowak would have given her, Jasper viewed her transformation as a curse, perhaps rightfully so. If there short trip to Lavender Tower taught them anything, it was that, even in the best of cases, undeath was a double-edged sword. Still, with their support Jasper was able to view her transformation not so much as curse, but more as another obstacle that she needed to overcome, albeit one that she needed to overcome with her friends help.

"Well, um, if you two think it's a good idea to go on ahead, then I guess we should just move on forward", Cut exclaimed, a bit nervously, but still filled with some level of the confidence that he gained along his journey's through the Kanto and Johto regions, Sure, the caves looked wet, dark, and foreboding, with a seemingly echoing silence coming from its depths, despite their...mutual fear of the dark and unforgiving under ground.

With a "FWOOSH!" of Embetails...tail and of Jaspers bone club, fulled by her ghostly magic's, the trio (not counting the four other Pokemon Curt had slapped on his belt, with one ball in particular shaking particularly vigorously in protest of entering the caves) ventured into the caverns dark unknowns of thee island's dungeons, be it for better, or, far more likely, for worse.

 

[BurbleBurble]

"Ha, your hair's like fire, that's funny. Do you think when you grow old, it'll grow gray, like ash and smoke?"

Well. That was a interesting response. And if he was being honest, growing old wasn't exactly something he thought of everyday...Was that something he should've thought of more?...He wasn't sure.

"Gerald."

He knew it. He knew he had to know that woman. Because now she confirmed she knew him. But as she watched on in , he knew her- but didn't. The woman's name and the place he met her was just...not on the mind. Maybe from all that time ago. Maybe...the Kalos festival? That was long ago. But the name was coming back to him. It was...It was...

"Lu-" Gerald was interrupted by another howl, likely from the two that nearly ran him down, and also saved him a great deal of embarrassment. He was about to say the complete wrong name. No, the woman pushed past him and towards the noise, with a "Stop, STOP." and off into the brushes she went. But before pursuing her, he looked to June.

She gave him a dissatisfied face. She remembered who Gerald thought the woman was. Luna. The uptight girl all the way back at the Kalos festival. She had ripped a magazine out of her hands, and then ripped a page out from said magazine. She was still bitter over that, and June was very happy when Million and Gerald took her out in that tournament. Regardless Gerald was plenty oblivious to her, and probably considered her a friend, lumped in with dozen of other "friends" he never saw again. She could rant on about those "friends" too, but that'd be too long to list.

"Alright, alright, I got the name wrong. It was Bailey, right?" June's face did not change. "Okay, okay, I'll remember it in a second. It's on the tip of my tongue."

And so he chased after the howl too. June followed. The Switchblades did not move. They were still deep in thought about getting into those mines. So far?...Nothing. All this time, and NOTHING. Not a singular plan. Not even a skeleton of a plan! They were so deep in thought, they didn't even break their train of thought when June came back and picked them up by their tassels. No, they had to think of something quick. No time for worldly distractions.

The woman was not far ahead- in between two large dogs, er, wolves. One was a grey colored local Pokemon- he had seen a few trainers with that Pokemon, but not that exact shade. The ones Gerald saw were colored beige. The other wolf was a much more dog looking, with a thick black pelt on it- wait, a Herdier. And this Herdier reminded him of-

Dear Arceus up above, how had he been so dumb? Everything clicked together now.

"Phi..." He mumbled, as June and the Switchblades joined at his side. So he was right- the Kalos Festival. It was just...so long ago, and so much stuff had happened since then. It kind of slipped his mind. But it was her, in the flesh. She did a bow, the dried flower crown adorning her hair tumbling off. If there was any doubt this wasn't Phi...those were gone now.

"Deeply sorry," Phi spoke. "For any trouble. Fire's got a habit of spreading." She paused for a moment, as if mulling over her words. "But it's ash, for now. Oh, and hello. It's been a while."

Gerald smirked. "No kiddin'! How long has it been? A year? Two? Man...I just don't believe it!" He chuckled for a few seconds. "I'm just...surprised! You were kind of the last person I'd expect to see out here!...Err, what happened?"
----
However, no peace can last, and neither would supports. The load of forty year old wood finally gave out at long last, and with it the tranquil surface of Ten Carat Hill. It all happened very fast. Every chirping bird and creaking insect stopped almost instantaneously. Before there was time to question the occurrence, the ground split open, attempting to fill the caves no longer held up by dusty logs. Had Gerald been standing a few feet back, he would've likely fell into the rubble and crushed to death. No, he hit a sweet spot where no land sank in. "Whoa, whoa whoa! What's happening to this place?!" He stared at the crumbling

June was a little more unlucky, having been standing on a unstable piece of land, but was still stable enough to have some footing. The Switchblades, however, had different plans. Finally snapping out of their thought process, and with an abyss open to what called below, they launched themselves at it. And the Delphox, still gripping the Switchblades tassels, was dragged in too, with an surprised and angry bark.

"J-June! Switchblades!" Gerald called, approaching the crumbling pit in the ground. No response. He looked to Phi, and shook his head. "Everytime. Everytime I see someone I know, something like this happens! Some new colorful set of events every time! What's Gerald gotta do to get some damned downtime for once?! Run into a friend without having something terrible happe-AUUGH" His rant was cut short by him falling into the depths. In his annoyance, he hadn't noticed a piece of fragile land he had stepped on. It gave out from under him, and he had lost his footing as well.

And now he joined his Pokemon in the dark.

 

[Curtkid]

"Man, this place gives me the creeps, though that could easily be my phobia of caves kicking in...", Curt blurted out as he took in the surrounding caverns. Though the cave was lacking in Stalagmites, it still seemed to have a steady dripping of water from it's roof, and the sound ranged to being practically non-existent, aside from the occasional rustle here and there, which put the entire party on alert. Even the combined light from Jasper and Embertail seemed to be only doing so much against the encroaching darkness, their thoughts only to be broken by the occasional rustle, which never failed to cause the party to turn in the direction of the noise. Yet, no matter how much they tried, they could never quite locate the source of the sound. It didn't help that several locals told them that Ten Carat Hills was cursed due to sightings of a "black demon" of sorts and several disappearances in the area. Curt almost mentioned to the group that he hoped the place wasn't haunted, but in light of their most recently turned undead party member, he decided saying such a thing might be a little insensitive.

"And, like always I can't make heads or tails of this stinking map...", the trainer grumbled as he fiddled with the piece of paper. Though he had gotten a bit better at navigation, he still wasn't exactly the first person you wanted in charge of a map. He flipped the map up, down, and all sorts of ways trying to gather some idea of direction, he got them some ways in the cave but now his navigation skills had finally failed him. Eventually Embertail realized Curt wasn't going to get them much deeper and decided to take matters into his own hands!

"HEY! Gimme a chance!", the talking fire-lizard exclaimed as he yanked the piece of parchment out of Curt's hands. The man grumbled but didn't put much of a fight, Embertail was a fool, yes, but a clever fool (if there ever was such a thing) he just might lead them through this cavern yet. The talking fire-lizard spent a few moments looking at the map, turning it seemingly every direction he possibly could, before finally settling on a direction to go.

I think we should goooooo THIS-A WAY!" Embertail exclaimed, pointing towards a direction both Curt and Jasper were almsot certain that was completely random. Still, it wasn't like they had any better idea where to go, so they followed the flame-tailed Pokemon without much question. After a few minutes of following the Charmander through a musky, dark, and unwelcoming cave, it turned out, to their surprise, to lead to something resembling a passage way. They came across a wood bridged, not only that, sure it looked rickety , but all things considered, it was, more or less, their only pass forward.

"Well, I gotta give credit were credit is due Emberail,you found us a way forward", Curt muttered, happy to see the Charmander bizarrely great sense of direction had given them a path forward, "let's just hope it doesn't lead us to any trouble". Though Curt muttered that last part, he could almost feel the similar feeling radiating off of Embertail and even the spectral Jasper, Yet, despite a few, heart stopping creaks, they made it across one bridge. Spirits raised, they felt like they could attempt the second, THAT, prove to be a rather foolish choice when the felt the very weight of the bridge begin to give way under their feet.

"U-uh-oh, uhhh, g-guy's, I think we might have a-", Embertai started to say, but fate seemed determined to interrupt his sentence as the rotting wood underneath his feet splinted and broke. Only the Charmander's quick, almost super-natural, reflexes saved him from falling to his doom in the abyss below, instead making a leap of faith and latching onto Curt. Not that his leap proved to be a long-term solution, as the very bride around them seemed to be giving out, and there was precious little left to save them...well, except one thing.

"J-Jasper, you can levitate now right!?", Curt hastily asked the Marowak behind them. They didn't have Whips of Flare with them at the moment, and none of their other party members were capable of flight or levitation. Though, if there was one thing they gained since Jasper's transition, it was that she hated being called upon to use her Ghostly powers, they found that out the hard way when they asked her to make them incorporeal, even if it was just for a few seconds to travel through a wall. Even, now, with life or death on the line, Jasper looked at Curt with a sort of tranquil anger for asking such a thing from her, and considering how rarely she showed emotion now a-days.

"Please Jasper, I know you don't like doing stuff like that, but I wouldn't be asking if there was any other option, so can you just!- ". And then the planks of wood they were standing on collapses and they fell into the darkness.

________________________________________________________________

"Woah, hehehe, do we really owe you one Jasper", Embertail remarked, now at the bottom of the cavern, though mercifully unharmed. Their old friend, having used her new found powers, saved them from plummeting to their untimely deaths at the bottom of a vast and empty cavern gorge. The area was dark, musty, and all around unpleasant, still it was better then the alternative option of falling anticlimactically to their deaths. Yeah, they would take this over the alternative, without a second thought.

"Y-yeah, thanks Jasper", Curt muttered, his words complimenting Embertail. Jasper merely let out a grunt as she landed on the floor herself, but from what they could read of here, it seemed like she did't begrudge them too much for calling upon her unholy powers.

"I think we should put off getting the Normalium Z for the time being, now we need to figure a way to get out of here...", the trainer said, looking around the nearby area.

"Well, it's not like w have very many other places to go, eh?", Embrtail said, tilting his head in the right-wards direction. With a sigh, Curt admitted they didn't have much else of an option, even from here they could see the left lead nowhere but to a dead end (they hadn't gotten that far across the bridge). With little other option, the trio followed their only other path through the dark crevices.

 

[Opharum]

Short legs and arms sped through Route 1 in a panicked but rhythmic engine, as if afraid that faltering in form once would end it all. The copper-bearded face resting atop this stout body inhaled and exhaled more slowly yet just as intensely, and instead of its usual paleness was pink and shiny with sweat.

It was the face of a man running for his freedom.

Every few strides he would need to adjust his bottom-rimless glasses before they'd slip off, and his oversized T-shirt and sweatpants bounced around so vigorously that they appeared to express their own great weight and form, and frankly looked a bit silly as well. He was able to flee from his pursuer several times already across Melemele Island; surely he could do it again. Each time, however, including this one, felt hopeless, as if he was only prolonging the inevitable. It was an emotion he had grown increasingly familiar with for nearly the last two years, and it plagued him even now-- when on the brink of escape from the prison in which he depleted so many countless days in solitary confinement.

"BZZZTT! DETLEDETLEDLE KRSHZZZ." A pink and blue body shielded the fugitive's backside: his Porygon-Z, Gyro, its 'tail' gliding above the ground in a sort of magnetic manner. Despite the digital pokemon twitching violently like a madmon, it was dead-focused to protect its trainer from the threats upon them as they continued west.
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Their pursuer was, by contrast, calm. Calm, determined, and ready to chase this fugitive to the ends of the earth if he needed to. A white scarf trailed behind him as he ran, covering his tanned face as he breathed harshly into it. A member of the international police, and the first to be assigned to the job, he'd been chasing this man in particular for quite a while. Most would have called for help on the job at this point, but he refused. He would do this himself.

Perhaps it was because he was new to the job and had a desire to make a good impression. Or perhaps it was because he knew just what the man he was running after had done to deserve being placed in jail. But really, reasoning didn't matter. What mattered was that he was slowly closing on his target. Still, he knew he needed to be careful; The Porygon-Z on the man's back was just as threatening as it had always been.

By now, Verum's patience for the situation was finally starting to wear down. Somehow, his target had managed to continuously evade him. But not this time.

"Galladus," He spoke to the pokemon that ran beside him, "Psycho Cut. Aim for the legs. We need to end this now."

The psychic-fighting type nodded in the affirmative, and a purple-pinkish glow began to envelop the blades that extended from his elbows until he made a slashing motion with them. With that, a sharp whistling noise came from the blades of psychic energy as they sliced through the air and towards the copper-haired male in front of them, aiming to disable his legs.
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"BLEUBLEUBLEU! TKRRR!" As a sharp wave of psychic energy hurdled straight for them, Gyro, thankfully practically on top of its trainer, wrapped its arms underneath the man's shoulders before using Magnet Rise, the force of its tail against the ground enough to help lift him and itself out of harm's way. Well...almost. the energy blade gashed into Gyro's tail, weakening its magnetic output, and while it had not sliced the trainer's legs off, the attack's impact with the ground knocked off a shoe and blew both of them down. Additionally, a second psychic blade advanced rapidly, but the Porygon-Z made sure to get it front of it and take the full force. Normally, such a blow would likely put the digital being out of commission, but it was already undergoing Conversion 2 from to the first hit, and a dark grey color spread throughout Gyro's body as it crunched up against the energy's power. Eventually, the purple wave split at the torso, sheer momentum causing the two halves to continue flying past before dissipating. Gyro had flinched, but it was left with hardly a scratch. It had become dark-type.

Unfortunately, both targets were still on the ground, and though the trainer managed to shoot up first, he wouldn't get far at the rate of the closing gap. However, right before the powerful Gallade could attack again, Gyro utilized a new trick. Eyes flashing violet, it released a shockwave of force towards the enemies-- its version of Quash. Passing through halted the Gallade's actions momentarily, long enough for an opportunity. Each of Gyro's three limbs extending outward-- to the point which they had separated from the body and floated themselves-- different elements manifested themselves. The left: Fire; the right, Ice; the tail, Electricity. This was Tri-Attack, though instead of targeting the opponents, Gyro thrusted its limbs clockwise and unleashed the trigonometric spiral at the ground, the blast force launching the mechanical duck away backwards towards its trainer and creating a debris cloud of smoke, lightning, and ice to hopefully block the enemies' vision and slow them down enough to escape again.

The man began to laugh as he picked up speed again, though his stride was different. His panicked imagination ran wild when against the dirt: being grabbed, restrained, hurt, broken. He need not glance back. He had lost his rhythm, his legs barely synergizing in a chaotic gallop, as if not expecting to still be needed. It would be over soon, he thought, but boy, was this exciting! So much so that he couldn't help but cackle at the irony-- what better way to appreciate your life than to defend it from being seized? Way back then, a cop had tackled him from behind in front of everyone and that was it, but now he was putting up a fight! How empowering! But he was also afraid, and laughing at his misfortunes was one of his only methods of thinking effectively in such circumstances, even if it appeared to bring the opposite effect.

"BRDABRDABR!" His companion, who was of a darker shade, was once again beside him. Its usually ticking head had become unusually still, only gradually tilting to follow as they moved something it had locked onto: Ten Carat Hill. The grey Porygon-Z zoomed ahead to the cave entrance about a hundred meters ahead, and its trainer clumsily followed suit. It seemed like a good location to lose someone in a chase, and he wasn't particularly afraid of anything more than the monsters behind them at the moment, so why not? "Arite, man...if you insist," he mumbled under his heaving breath.
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Verum watched as the attack was deflected, and Galladus leveled a hardened glare at the pokemon defending the fugitive, but in the end, the second slashing blade had at least somewhat accomplished its goal. Still, Verum was confused as to why the attack had done no damage. Even being a Sinnoh native, the duck-like defender was not a pokemon commonly encountered, and thus not one he had gotten an opportunity to observe much. Still, they'd managed to down their opponents and were now effectively closing ground; He'd have time to consider enemy pokemon later.

Or rather, they were closing ground. A sudden shockwave of force from the Porygon-Z was able to halt them, at least momentarily, and with their momentum, they continued to sail forward through the air. The pause was brief, but it would be enough.

For his part, Galladus made a graceful recovery. His body falling forward, he once more launched a psycho cut into the ground, the force throwing his body into a flip with forward momentum. Because of that momentum however, he was forced to land down on a knee or risk falling over before resuming his sprint.

For Verum however, who's reflexes were not as strong as his partner's, the result would be not be quite as good. While being left stranded in the air, it occurred to him as a last minute thought that he needed to make sure he didn't waste time on the ground. Tucking in his body, he prepared to roll onto his right shoulder and pop back to his feet. Despite that, he'd been too late in doing so, and the landing placed immense strain on his shoulder.

Popping back up and stumbling slightly before resuming his sprint, Verum was left to do nothing but hiss in pain, "Shit...Nng...Not good..." Though in his head, he was grateful it hadn't been his legs, it would still hurt to be moving like this, and the pain of pumping his arms as he ran was going to wear him down far faster than before. As soon as he was truly up and moving again though, the 'mon in front of them was already at it again.

Verum and Galladus were forced to skid to a stop to brace for this, seeing the three elements come together and about to be launched. Tri-Attack was nothing to scoff at, and both pokemon and trainer knew that. To their slight surprise, however, the attack was not launched at them, being launched straight into the ground, propelling the Porygon-Z back to its trainer and creating a cloud of dust that Verum couldn't see through no matter how hard he tried.

Pain spiked once more in his shoulder, but that pain was quickly replaced by a feeling of rage as the runaway began to laugh at what Verum thought to be the fugitive's good fortune. Hell. No. He was not getting away. He called out a Sylveon, though immediately clutched at his shoulder in pain. Habit. Always reaching over to his left with his right. He released yet another quiet hiss before calling to the mostly blue Eeveelution beside him, "Kocho, fairy wind please, clear the dust."

Seeing her trainer's condition, the fairy type whimpered softly, but complied, and soon the dust was removed from sight. It was just in time to see the duo retreating to a cave.

"Ten-Carat Hill...Of course," Verum muttered softly, before a separate voice entered his mind.

'Going in there isn't something I'd advise Verum. You're hurt. We don't know what else we'll find in there. We should call for help.' The Gallade's voice in his head was, as it often tended to be, calm and logical, but Verum was still determined.

"Kocho," he knelt down to the fairy type and patted its head, "Thank you for the help, and don't work yourself up. I don't know what might happen, and you need to be in top shape. Everyone does."

The blue and white fairy could only look up at its trainer with worried eyes before a red light enveloped it and it was returned to the premier ball on Verum's belt.

'You're doing it anyway, huh?' Galladus asked looking down at his kneeling friend, slightly annoyed at having been completely ignored the first time.

"Of course my friend. Calling for help would take too long," Verum stated simply before continuing, "We know he's here. He's going into a cave. Backing himself into a corner. This is the best shot we're going to get."

Verum rose, and began proceeding towards the cave entrance, leaving Galladus to sigh in frustration before following behind.
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Finally growing the nerve to glance behind him, the man was shocked to spot no sign of his followers. From fear of a cliche, he spun back around in case they somehow positioned themselves ahead of him. Nothing, only the sight of the cave entrance. Shaking his head in anger for wasting movement, he charged for the cavern with added initiative until he finally stormed in, not indending to allow the darkness to impede. That cop on his tail had appeared quite relaxed. The prick...riding his high-mudsdale for being the reightious police, defending laws which invoked an uncomfortable itch, hunting him as if it were just another day on the job, after a wild creature who had forever lost the blessed mind and power to reason after a single decision. In that case, if he was indeed a savage being...well...it was a savage place: a dark place largely untouched by man. He would embrace it, make it his turf. No civilized man could capture such a person.

His delusions had distracted him from noticing the stalactite straight ahead, which his face slammed into with considerable force. He landed hard on his ass, followed after a pause with a "FFFFFACK!", gripping forehead with one palm and readjusting his glasses with the other, though from the texture he soon suspected the right lense to be cracked. "I needed those to NOT look like a hoodlum..." he added with a whiney groan before taking his sweet time to stagger up, as if his prior panic had been erased. The robotic voice of his partner spoke up with difficulty, its uncharacteristically coherent speech fluctuating wildly in pitch each second. "Can you function, Aran?"

"I don't know, man! I haven't tried moving yet! I could be...like...half-paralyzed and without an eyeball for all I know! I know you can't create much light as a dark type, but you've scanned for injuries hundreds of times! Why didn't you just do that instead of asking my ass?" Aran ranted, entirely diverted from his present predicament.

Gyro responded straightly with a head tilt. "You advised me once that it was common courtesy to inquire of one's current condition before analysis."

Aran placed his hands on his hips. "Ok...you weren't supposed to be peeping up and down that woman regardless, even if she appeared hurt. Letting her know actually just made it worse, particularly because I was kicked in the spheals and accused of consentless videotaping." After a moment, he finally returned to reality, "...OH SHIT C'MON!" And then started up again, though now noticably more cautious. Right when he was beginning to develop a pace again, however, he ceased to feel the ground beneath his feet and fell. He hadn't even contemplated his descent until about two seconds in, so in that time his legs were still going through the motions. A shame no one could see it. Not planning on allowing its trainer to break his spine on eventual impact, Gyro glided up the walls and against the ceiling with its tail before once again using Magnet Rise, ironically propelling itself down into the underground depths faster than in its trainer, which it passed. As he fell, Aran caught two lights a ways down--one orange, one green-- close enough to glow fairly brightly but not enough to reveal their surroundings. He was for a second so intrigued by the gleams that he hardly reacted to his sudden deceleration at the...er...nubs of Gyro, who managed to catch the man less than gracefully. "TIIINADALET!" Realizing the lights lied and the same ground level, Aran immediately associated them. "Quiet!" He urged the space-duck, nearly pressing his hand over its mouth before remembering it didn't own one. Yep...there were voices as well, but he couldn't discern what they were saying. Was it somehow his pursuer? He hadn't particularly paid close attention to the cop's voice, so that was impossible to determine. Still, he wouldn't take his chances speaking to out-of-place strangers who could potentially be more authority to gank him. "Let's get outa here," he whispered to Gyro, turning around int the opposite direction to the strangers only to bump into a wall. From how long he had fell, it must have rose quite a ways up, and he doubted Gyro could carry him up or itself even if its tail wasn't damaged. He stroked his scruffy beard and stretched his mouth at his misfortunes. "Haahh, hah...that's funny..." Eyeing the lights once again, he was fixed towards them and their warmth. Screw his fire-seeking instincts! (or something like that) Compromising, he followed the strangers from a distance, hoping to not be heard. Or, if he already had, he had nothing to lose anyway.
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Walking with near silent steps, Verum continued on his path through the cave, Galladus walking wordlessly beside him. The lighting in this place was...lackluster at the least, and it didn't help that they stepped ever further from the light of the entrance in their attempts to continue tracking the man. For as much confidence as he'd had that the fugitive would only be trapping himself in this cave, Verum was beginning to lose faith. He hated to admit it, but it was beginning to seem like the fugitive had evaded him, especially when he came across a broken bridge with a seemingly bottomless void beneath it. He couldn't be certain, but there was at least a fairly large chance the bridge had been cut by the runaway himself, which of course meant that Verum would need to cross it himself. Great.

In hindsight, it may have been a little over-the-top, but he was short on time and it was the first thing that came to mind.

"Gaia!" he shouted whilst releasing a Torterra out before him. The tortoise pokemon looked on at him whilst waiting for a direction, "I need you to use frenzy plant in order to create a makeshift bridge across to the other side," was the order that came as Gaia's trainer pointed to the opposite side of the chasm.

The large pokemon blinked slowly. That was...an odd request, but then again, the old 'mon was used to Verum figuring out how to use Frenzy Plant and various other moves in fashions that could be considered strange, and thus complied nonetheless.

Quickly, three large roots appeared, bridging the gap, leaving Verum and Galladus to run to the other side, where Verum quickly thanked and returned the torterra to its pokeball before continuing to run into the caves. They continued this trek until eventually coming to an open and grassy valley.

In doing so, it led to the duo's discovery of an entrance that, from the looks of things, had been boarded up but then ripped back open. It seemed unlikely, but, really, this was the only thing he had to go on.

'Verum...This cannot possibly be anything good.' The Gallade's voice in his head was tainted by concern and uncertainty. 'Places don't just get boarded up for no reason. I wouldn't advise going further.'

By contrast, his trainer's voice held rocky determination, dashed with a mark of annoyance from his pained state, "We've come this far Galladus. We know he's around here somewhere. We have to search everywhere that we can." He paused before turning briefly to his partner and relenting, "Though I acknowledge that this is highly dangerous. Stick by me. If anything happens, we'll need to react as fast as we possibly can."

Knowing he would not receive a better answer, Galladus decided to follow his trainer's orders without complaint. This was the best they'd be able to manage if Verum was to be so relentless in his pursuit.

It wasn't until many minutes of walking later that things began to take a turn for the worst. He'd begun to hear voices, one male, the other female, but just as he'd been about to approach them, something he'd failed to even consider had begun: The ground had begun to crumble beneath them, and in its place was nothing but void. Pitch black. This was...not good. Quickly, Verum turned to look back the way they'd come, only to realize that it too no longer existed. He and Galladus were on practically the only remaining patch of land, but the way things were going, that wouldn't last long.

As he tried to keep his head clear, it was Galladus that had the first - and only - idea. 'Verum. We need to jump to the wall.'

"The-What?! We have no idea if it'll even hold!"

'But we know the ground beneath us won't. And we have no idea how far this drop beneath us is,' Galladus reasoned, 'Our best option is to jump to that wall and attempt to descend.'

There was a moment of hesitation before a slow and shaky nod of acceptance. Bending down slightly, the pairs' legs coiled. Three...Two...One!

No floor beneath their feet, they both flew over the seemingly bottomless chasm before colliding with the wall. Hands gripped immediately. They'd made-

A jolt. Pain flaring. Verum instinctively flinched, not having prepared himself for the strain he'd be placing on his shoulder. His hand released the grip he'd had on the wall. He reached his arms back up, grasping pointlessly at the air as he began to plummet.

This was it. He was going to die. He'd failed, and now he'd be leaving his pokemon behind. Agh! He'd been so stupid! How did he let this happen?! How? Ho-

The next thing he knew, he was being slammed back into the wall he'd just fallen from. Galladus had grabbed him just in time, keeping a tight grip until Verum recovered enough of himself to stay on the wall.

'Like you said. This is dangerous,' Galladus' voice was kept composed, but there was a shakiness to it that was hardly ever present, 'That was way too close. Now come on, let's get down on the ground...If we can get to it that is.'

Verum could only breathe out his thanks to his partner before they began their descent.

It was only when they neared the bottom and finally stepped onto solid ground once more that Verum could pause to think. He'd heard voices before. And he knew the criminal had been here before. Did they fall too? What was going to happen? How would they get out? All of these questions gripped his mind, but one thing was certain, he needed to get moving.

 

[Storybook]

Once reigned a time when the world was better
Brighter, clearer, calmer, quiet
Cool breeze and melting snow,
Where everyone had nowhere to go

No up or down, no hills and valleys
No sun and moon, just stars
Where everyone dreamed and held hands
Quiet, until the time came of sans

Leaving the garden,
Their hearts would rush,
Their blood would gush,
Their lungs would beat,
Their stomachs rise,

Their eyes would see,
Their hands would work,
Their skin would burn,
And their limbs would jerk,

And they’d laugh and sing and love and cry
Quite alright with the chaos of a world gone awry
Lost in the tempestuous mazes of life
Wanderers, seeking a land of strife.
- Phierah Cadence, soon after a certain tournament ended in the Kalos region.

Deep breaths.

In, out.
In, out.
In,
and out.

Take a moment to feel the fur between your fingers. How coarse it is, gnarled and grainy, biting with a wrestle of small knots that writhe and chafe and leave strands of their pain on your hands like chalk. How soft it is, delicate as snow, and just as fierce a demeanor, such that you can press your palm deep into their hide and leave its print. Twisting the strands between her fingers, Phi noted that when she rolled the wolves’ fur together in her palm, she could barely tell them apart.

Deep breaths.
In, out.
In-

Her concentration snapped like a terse and worn string, crusted with the deadening moisture and salt of the sea. Taut and terse and crusted, her chest choked with the irritant of anxiety, she breathed deep and hard and irregular and swept her arm aside to cast the fur into the wind as if to prove a point to its chaotically stirring currents, make them quiet, make them right, make them still.

Still.

Still.
Still.

And her breath rasped and her teeth clacked and the dried flower crown rustled and shattered in some places as she adjusted it after her bow, so unnaturally dry was its features that it threatened to crumble at the slightest degradation of the wind. The wind stirred and screeched and sighed, her ears buzzed, the wolves growled, she felt energy course up and into her fingers and watched them shiver uncontrollably before her gaze, letting the fear explode into exhilaration, a spark smoking in the deep depths of her ever-blackening eyes, she moved her hands through her hair and bounced her knee and looked around, twitching her neck like a nervous rabbit or an angry and unsettled tiger. Predator and prey in one, wild and breathing hard, the tense whips of her partner's growls searing at her calves and into her ears like worms, driving her mad. One can only fight so long, can only run so far, can only love and live and cry and laugh and clack her teeth like scuttling husks of a joy bygone for so long.

Her eyes smoked with the intense and hoarse demeanor of a wildfire, as she twitched, standing between two growling wolves.

Once, she had held the hand of the sky. And the flowers were beautiful. And her skin burned. And the wind hustled its merriment into mockery. And she twitched and moved and her hands shook and would not lay still to such a force that even after she died, Phi was sure they would shake for just a minute longer than her breath would grace her body, and her mind would pump its blood.

Unsettled, Phi ticked her head like a compass that could not find north, looking up, and down, and left, and right, but never for long, like a twitching bird. The smoke in her eyes seared her retinas, and seemed to fill them with a bloodshot anxiety as every notch of severity that was added to the growls of her companions piled upon one another and smoked out her fire. Gerald spoke, but Phierah did not seem to hear, too occupied with the task of standing still. It was a hard task, to be still, when the wind pulsed and flared like a wildfire to drive her ever on and on and on in a constant and addictive need for energy, lest the floor cave beneath her weight and beg her to fall.

Thus, it is not at all surprising that when such an event did occur, Phierah was more than ready. Even, it could be said, as if she'd been expecting it, waiting for her own secret hell to cave in beneath her feet and suck her into its fiery depths, for her soul to split the earth in its torment and cave her mind and body into it, for her heart to stop beating just long enough for her to slide through the earth as if the rock were air. Waiting for that last straw, in some narrow and smoking corner of her torn brain, Phi had convinced herself that it was only a matter of time until everything caught up with her, and pounced, like a wildcat forced into starvation for lack of prey, and for every second that Phi ran the wildcat grew hungrier and hungrier until it was a decaying and rancid force of claws and teeth and muscle dragging her down into its death. Nanoseconds became dreaded hours, as piece by piece her own private hell opened its gaping jaws and tore into reality, and Phi was sure she'd gone mad.

However, even as she dreaded the event, and waited for its calling, as the lost and terrified wanderers always listen for the bells of their last breath, it did not mean the smoking woman was ready to succumb to it. The call for life is strong: stronger, often, than fear, than knowledge, than logic, than regret or shame. It is a reason why, though harsh and bare of all delicacy, a person may still live past the torment of both mind and spirit. Why terror and exhilaration may corrupt a more quiet mind into insanity. And so, as fast as the crackling flames of fire reach to tear for new fodder, Phi moved to outpace gravity, perfectly belonging in the world of nanoseconds, where her anxiety was spent as ferocious and dedicated motion. It is little wonder, than, as she pushed off the caving rock to slide onto solid ground with the statue of a tense and wild animal, that the pen around her neck was unused and dry. Such a woman no longer had the patience for words. Thinking them, writing them, loving them, dreaming them: It ate away inside her like acid.

And then, there was a moment, where her wolves cowered low and close beside her in terror at the folding ground, of peace. Rubble melted back into silence. The crickets and birds, still dead, did little to upend the air. And Phi, for a moment, listened. Less analytically and more like a predator, did she listen, keeping careful watch of every motion that tickled her ears. Yet, the words of Gerald seemed to spin something within her broken weave of yarn, and her smoking eyes turned questioning and curious, like a small cub who knew nought about the world, as for a moment the woman strained the limits of her tired conscience to act civil.

"Colorful?" she spoke. "Why, I'd hardly call these serious of events colorful. But if we were to give them a light-based metaphor, I suppose they would not be black and white, either. Certainly not. Maybe grey. But grey is rather... stoic, for the moment, don't you think? Yes, yes, and if we think of color as the burning brand of red and the deep and uncertain purple and the bright and sickly and dizzy yellow, I suppose color might fit in well. Nevermind, then. Colorful it is."

With this conclusion, the vacuum of sound caved in upon her aching mind, and she once again twitched, and breathed heavy, and ticked her head as a compass that cannot find North, unease settling in her bosom like a plague. The moment returning (and Gerald long-fallen), with it came the snarls and growls and tense desire of her wolven companions who, upset by the turn of events, took out their unease on their hackles, advancing full force on one another. The smoking woman noticed, and her irises burned red, not quick enough to stop them meeting, their jaws wrenching hard each other's skin and tearing and yelling and wrestling their way into a fit of rage that threw them head over heels into the earth: and, of course, because she could not help but love them, the woman who had so animalistically thrown herself from her own pits of hell-come-real willingly tore the bands of restraint to leap upon them and down into the hole, clutch their heads tight to her breast, and wrestle them free from one another as they fell, far into the black pit of Phi's nightmares.

She gave but a thought to the release of her Sans, who could, perhaps, stand a chance of rescue for one or two of them. But to grab for his pokeball would be to let go of one of her wolves, and she could not dare the thought of harming them in such a manner, for her admiration for them fell deep into the black pits of love and obsession. So the smoking woman fell hard on her back against the rough stone floor of the black, and thus saved her two companions from the pain of both the ground and one another, at the expense of her own well-being.

The first thing she noticed, in such a frightful eye as those smoking pupils of hers, was that her breath had been forcefully kicked out of her chest. To the atom, every sweet and precious and clear wind was sucked from her lungs, so that when she breathed in she felt only the rough and irritating scratch of stale dust and debris. She coughed for a full minute in an attempt to steal enough life from the dank and steely and dust-filled air to fill once more her burning lungs, void of the sweet relief of the world beyond the cave, in the process pulling herself to her feet, her spine bending tight with pain and convulsing in what could only be the messy and rapid tacks of anxiety. The herdier and the lycanrock huddled beneath her, subdued and quiet, their tails flicking over one another's back in mutual apprehension.

There wasn't away to describe the world she had entered, in the eyes of Phi. A cave of her own misdeeds, finally plunging her into the black, with only the rapid beats of a heart to speak her emotion. It might only have been a cavern, long disused and forgotten and left to rot, to another. But Phi's eyes smoked, and she saw only what the smoke revealed.

So the woman placed one shaking hand on Gerald's arm, as if to communicate some form of fear that could not be rationalized into words, but then fast withdrew it at the sensation of how cold her fingers had become. And she breathed deep in, and out. And in, and out. And in, and out.

In, out.
In, out.

Her wolves coiling around her feet like blankets, quieting the shiver in her stomach and the sweat on her brow. With their support, her spine straightened high, and she quieted, steady as a heartbeat.

The caves awaited.

 

[BurbleBurble]

Gerald groaned as he picked himself off the ground, his dazed eyes darted around the cave system he had fallen into...rather, the mine shaft. That he hadn't wanted to enter in the first place. But that didn't matter, not then- he had Pokemon to find. And further on, vague shapes moved in the dark. While Gerald couldn't discern their finer details, it was fairly clear who those shapes were. But the shapes soon faded away into the inky blackness ahead.

"June!" He called, with no response. "Switchblades!" And still, no one answered his call.

A hand touched his arm for a moment, and quickly retracted itself. Turning his head towards the direction, Gerald saw that Phi and her wolves had joined him in these dank mines, faces obscured in the inky black. But he could see, just barely, the fear in her face. Gerald recalled her getting a few words into his "insights" before- words he had just spoken a few minutes ago, before he took a plunge for the worse. Did she agree with him? Grey, she had mentioned? It...no, it didn't matter now. What mattered was finding his Pokemon and then a way out. And not losing his old friend along the way, but that probably wouldn't be hard.

He had saw his Pokemon a moment before, but not a way out. Gerald turned towards where he and Phi had fallen from- and to his dismay, it seemed to have mostly sealed itself. "S-Shit, how it fill in so fast?" A few rays of sunshine mocked him, squeezing between rubble and pebbles. So, getting out that way was a no. Well, perhaps Million and one of Phi's Pokemon could move it together, she had some giant bird esque creature if his memory served. But first he'd have to get June and Switchblades...

"June!" He shouted again. Still no answer. "Okay, okay. They can't be far in. It'll be easy...we'll get out. I mean, how hard could it be? I got a flashlight in my pocket..." Gerald's bag may have been shaken in the fall, but nothing could break good ol' plastic...Well, a lot of things could, now that he thought about it, but not a little fall. He reached into his pocket, and pulled out a cheap small flashlight, quite clearly given out at some travel agency or tourist booth. "It's not much, but it's better than no light!" He commented, clicking the button on. A small beam of light formed.

And then flickered out. He hadn't even used it once before this. "Your kidding me! You've got to...Oh, whatever. It's fine, it's fine! Everything's gonna be fine..." Now, at this point he should've tried to take out his other Pokemon, but he didn't really want June or Switchblades to go any further, and trying to identify which was contained in each separate ball would take too long.

"Let's get going. After all, it's just some empty old mine. What's the worst that could be down here? Some Zubat?" And so Gerald stumbled into the dark, his eyes trying to adjust to the dark.

-----

June was absolutely livid, and the Switchblades knew that. Their plan had worked, but not if they were melded together. She had been pulled down in the depths with them absentmindedly, but that did not matter. She didn't like them then, and even though they had made a mistake, a mistake any sword could make, she had to have their heads on a stick...Well, whatever qualified as a head for them.

Their calls for mercy went unheard by the vicious Delphox. But soon they had gotten away from June's field of vision, and she had to light her 'wand" to navigate the place. She hadn't expected them to be so fast...June briefly considered Gerald. She looked behind her, in the now illuminated cave, but nothing was behind her except darkness and rocks. Oh well, how far behind could he possibly be? June couldn't let the Switchblades get away.

The Switchblades never stopped. They had run for so long, they had lost their sense of direction- a needed sacrifice to escape their predator. Where had she gone, anyways? Had they truly lost her?

A light came into view. Immediately assuming the worst, they desperately looked for somewhere to hide- and found nothing. But the Switchblades didn't give up- they had a slight back up plan. Just act like they were invisible. Or attempt to, anyways...Their ingenious plan was to lay against a wall, close their eyes and hold still. If they weren't being noisy or noticeable, maybe June would miss them. Well...if that was June. The Switchblades failed to notice that some of the light was an eerie greenish color. Not that they were going to change their plan even if the swords acknowledged who it was.

June...was in no better of a situation. She had lost the Switchblades and Gerald. And she had investigated into the supports of the mine- they were cracked, which was likely what caused the first cave in and further cave ins...Ohhh, she didn't like this. Not one bit. It would be better if the Switchblades were there- they may of gotten her into this mess, but she didn't like to be alone. Any company was better than the quiet.

That's when she heard the noises. They were footsteps- Had she looped? Was that Gerald and Phi? It had to be, who else was down here? In a moment, she had dropped her reason and began a mad dash towards the noise- and was promptly disappointed. It was not Gerald or Phi, but a man and his Gallade instead.

Oh, that's neither of them. June told herself. But company is company. The two seemed vaguely familiar. Perhaps Gerald had encountered them before. In any case, they were allies- power came in numbers.

She turned to the Gallade- a smart looking Pokemon, and if June earned it's trust she'd no doubt have the trainer's trust too. "My apologies if I startled you," she began. "I thought you were someone else. Not that it really matters. I assume we have a common goal, to get out of this dusty place. Do you mind if I tag along? I believe it would be helpful for us both." That would be a convincing argument, right? It proved she wasn't some savage Pokemon lurking in an old mine, at least.

Well, she hoped it did...

 

[Opharum]

Quiet. There was practically no noise in this cave, not beyond the soft footfalls of Verum and Galladus. They had lost track of where the voices from before they’d fallen might have been, meaning that, at least for the moment, they were alone. Alone with the very real possibility that the criminal they’d been chasing was here too. On top of that, Verum was unaware if this all may have been planned, and if it had, then suddenly he had become the pursued rather than the pursuer; and someone who had just walked highly unprepared into a trap. Honestly, it wasn’t something he wanted to consider, so for the moment he pushed the thought from his mind.

Truly it was an odd feeling, walking through the dark. It was like an endless void was stretching out in front of him. In the beginning, it had consumed everything, to the point where even when directly in front of him, nothing could be seen. In time though, Verum’s eyes began to adjust, and he could at least see vague outlines and shapes in the dark. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to keep him from walking aimlessly into the walls of the cave. At all of this, Verum couldn’t help but be slightly unnerved. It was odd, given that he’d never once been somewhere this dark, but there was a sense of familiarity with the situation. Not quite the same, but the inky black of the cave, combined with the fact that he was walking along in an injured condition, reminded him of a different time that he couldn’t quite remember.

He continued to grasp at the scraps of a memory, trying to find an answer to this familiarity, until he heard the sudden pounding of fast steps -the sound of something running- and Galladus’ voice cut sharply into his thoughts.

‘Verum. Now would be a good time to send out Alia. She can identify whatever this is better than we can, and she’s got the best chance of fighting in the dark,’ the psychic-fighting type reasoned to him.

“Alia,” Verum muttered quietly as he grabbed the Lucario’s pokeball, “See if you can identify who-or what-ever this is,” and then he released the Mon from her ball with a beam of red light.

Alia went to work the second she was released, closing her eyes and allowing a light blue glow to overtake them, but as it happened, her aura vision wouldn’t actually be needed. The figure that was approaching them at a fast rate had out some kind of torch it would seem, though as they got closer, Verum was able to identify just what it was that was walking towards them. It was a Delphox approaching them, and quickly.

Galladus merely turned to Alia, before telling her simply to be ready for a fight, to which she merely grunted in the affirmative, summoning a blue bone staff in between her hands for Bone Rush.

For his part, Verum was wracking his brain for some kind of explanation. He knew from the case files that, aside from the Porygon-Z that had been helping the man escape, he hadn’t had any other pokemon. That left a few possibilities. The first: the Delphox was wild, and running at them in an attempt to cause them harm for no specific reason. The second: the Delphox belonged to the convict he’d been chasing, which was not good news at all really since it would mean that he had back-up pokemon from the ones that had been confiscated so long ago. The third and last one was that the pokemon belonged to someone else, quite possibly one of the voices he’d heard from earlier. The last option was optimal, but he still had no idea how this encounter was about to play out.

When the pokemon stopped in front of them, to Verum’s surprise, the psychic-fire type turned immediately to Galladus, and seemingly initiated a conversation if Galladus’ slightly more relaxed position was anything to go off of. It would seem that they wouldn’t be fighting. At least not yet, but Alia still stood by, only slightly to the side, ready to jump in at any moment.

"My apologies if I startled you," she began. "I thought you were someone else. Not that it really matters. I assume we have a common goal, to get out of this dusty place. Do you mind if I tag along? I believe it would be helpful for us both."

As she finished speaking, Galladus was left to study her, his gaze looking over her posture, searching for any hint of violent or malevolent intent. For his searching, he came to the fact that, at least judging from her appearance, she was being truthful. That fact alone, however, was not enough to deter him from keeping his guard up. There was no reason to take risks, after all. If she truly bore no ill intent though, Galladus also acknowledged that it would be helpful to have her along. She was correct in the fact that it would be helpful for them both, what with her needing to find someone, and Verum and himself needing a source of light, and of course, the fact that they all wanted to get out of this cave.

Still. He was nervous. She hadn’t specified who that someone may be, so travelling with her could still be risky, at least until he came to a realization. Verum’s team seemed to have a particular strength in recognizing, and in many cases, neutralizing threats. Kocho, upon evolving into Sylveon, had performed one such act of neutralization, calming down a group of wild pokemon before anything major could occur, and it was with that remembrance that he finally came to a decision regarding this situation. Before replying to her, he turned first to Verum and spoke to him.

“I think I have an idea. She doesn’t necessarily seem out to harm us, but in the interest of our safety, I believe we should take a precaution,” he exclaimed before continuing, “Kocho has the ability to calm people, yes? We’ve had her help in stopping battles before. Now would be an opportune time for that ability to be of assistance yet again.”

Verum was slightly taken aback, what with Galladus having formulated a strategy so fast. He supposed it helped that the Delphox had actually spoken to him…whatever she may have said. He knew better than to doubt the blade pokemon though, especially after being friends with him for so long.

“Alright. We’ll play it out your way Galladus,” he spoke as placed his attention on the Delphox among them, “Assuming you’ll be willing to agree. Alia, for now, we’ll be okay, so come on back and keep up your strength,” he finished as he called back the Lucario in a flash of red light.

With that, Galladus focused back on the Delphox, “Apologies for the time spent deliberating. You are correct in believing that we all want to leave. I agree that working together will probably be our best bet,” he sighed before going on, “But due to some ah…current circumstances, we cannot afford to be too careful.”

At this, Verum had called out Kocho, the blue and white Sylveon blinking confusedly at its current surroundings. She glanced back at Verum, who gave her a look that seemed to say ‘I’ll explain later.’

Galladus glanced over to the two before speaking again, “We agree to help and be helped, so you’re fine to tag along, but on the condition that Kocho is allowed to hold your other hand,” he gestured to the hand not holding her “torch,” and then paused before deciding to elaborate at least slightly further, “She will ensure that no fighting can occur between us. Assuming you find that to be satisfactory, we should probably get moving.”

 

[Quake]

After several minutes of following the faint green light in the distance, Aran noticed something odd-- not once had he needed to adjust his distance from it despite his uneven pacing. It never grew brighter or dimmer...as if it moved along with him. To test this further, he halted, and, surely, the light remained the same as time passed. In addition, the voices ceased. Could it be that these people were baiting him? Was it that damn cop?! Could that cruel persistence reach no limits, even in such claustrophobic darkness? Was his punishment truly so crucial for justice? No, he should not care. Without preservation, self-pity is useless anyway. Aran contemplated his options. Shouting out to the bastard and ending this whole thing by force was unwise due to obvious facts that if untrue wouldn't have even placed him in this situation at all, as was turning around toward that dead end. Stumped at the moment, he turned to his partner behind for a status update. Well, it turned out Gyro had already reverted back to its normal typing, but Aran wouldn't ask about that.

"Yer lights workin'?" He whispered, sloppily enough to where he likely wouldn't be understood by anyone hearing it out of context. The Porygon-Z straightened and paused for a moment as if alarmed, and then nodded. "Okay...okay...so maybe we should--" As he turned back ahead, the greenish glow vanished. "What the..." Panicked, he considered something which could have easily been done earlier. "Scan for life," he requested Gyro, still whispering, and the digital duck's spiral eyes glowed a faint red as they searched around them. Impatient, Aran faced it again as if his gaze would speed up the process, when something on the chest caught it instead. "Why is the video player--" he asked with a confused but uncaring tone before being interrupted by "MOSS. BACTERIA. NO MAJOR LIFE FOUND." The startled man jumped back before pointlessly covering Gyro's muzzle once again. "Shaddup!" As the robotic voice began echoing throughout the cavern, however, the pointlessness of his efforts were only exemplified.

"...Oh wait." He spoke aloud now as he transcripted his thoughts again. "So nobody's actually there? B..but I heard people."

"NEGATIVE. HOWEVER, GREAT VIBRATIONS MEASURED 27° SOUTH, 153° EAST, 14.7 METERS.

"What? Activity without life signs? Like a machine?"

"........MECHANICAL ACTIVITY POSSIBLE, AFFIRMATIVE."

"Let's take a look, I guess," Aran reasoned, his caution reserves running dry for the time being, too insistent on ending his not knowing any of this Arciass Tauroshit. Gyro led its trainer to the reading, and around the corner those flashlights for eyes shone upon something great indeed.

"Ssswwoords?"

They moved.

"Ohfuckdeyalive?!" the man brambled in surprise as he backed up behind Gyro for protection as it turned on its scanners again for more data.