Story A previously thought to be destroyed, 2-year old Pokémon fanfiction prototype has been found in my workshop, after I returned yesterday.

Sacrifice

a distant memory.
Looking for a way to introduce greater structure and control to roleplaying in the Pokémon fandom he originated in, a younger Boo-Koo slowly built in his head and misshapen barrages of text messages over the course of years to fandom friends: The ingredients, plot devices, characters and means to create a more grounded, realistic Pokémon.

Though originally it was only the mechanics themselves he was opting for, over time these evolved into becoming twists and spins on the original product, so much indeed that it began to differentiate enough to be its own unique version.

Eventually, I had asked a partner at the time to partake in writing an epic roleplay with me that would make light use and field test the mechanics of this new and potentially sharpened, dynamic version of Pokémon; However, what I offered to write as a prologue became so long and drawn out before we could start, that my partner quit after a week and a half of me working on it.

So became clear at that point, what I was doing, hadn't been preparation for a roleplay, but a setup to lead him down a path I could write myself, whereas the partnership existed as an excuse to work on it rather than a means to continue- So I continued.

To preface this version of Pokémon:

In this, Pokémon began as a man-made solution to a man-made problem of severe planetary decay after an extreme and total scientific renaissance transformed humanity into the role of creators.

Every nation or political body on the planet existed within 3 supercell governing bodies, taking the entire planet's worth of land rights in their wake and being so destructively capable through means of new atomic weaponry that every one completely ditched the means to actively combat one another on the ground and instead relied upon gargantuan dome particle-shields that generated fake atmospheres to guard the citizens from space radiation and caustic, lethal levels of pollution, dotted with highly reactive particles suspended in a field that covered the entire sky and border of their civilizations, that would essentially vaporize anything touching it.

Their lives were all a part of a totally closed system that relied on artificial competitions and entertainment to keep their spirits up, wherein the governments all kept a stern eye on eachother, as the only method of attack was total annihilation.

However, as lifespans grew ridiculous and scientists ran out of things to do with the human bodies capped at their scientific limits, it was proposed between what little contact there was between the nations, to take care of the Earth's decay issue by designing a new, radically fast-acting ecosystem for it, wherein inspiration drawn from what had been lost in flora and fauna of the past could become useful in designing a tougher series of creatures that could perform the same process of terraforming the Earth into a habitable state that was done naturally billions of years ago in just a few hundred.

This was the only thing they were permissed to have outside of their evenly-spaced borderlines, without arousing conflict.

Since these initial prototypes were developed and released in small test-groups, they became known as Pocket Monsters; Their existence and survival in the tortured environment outside of city walls garnered much in the way of interests from curious onlookers, who were fascinated to witness the only change on the planet occur in front of their eyes.

The goal of the project itself was straightforward-

Make a ecosystem of creatures that could all balance eachother's populations, make use of and experiment with the absolutely most radical science they had to offer, and burn off, metabolize what minerals and energy they could find as quickly it was feasibly possible to do so.

This directive, in combination with interests in their entertainment value led them to design increasingly radical monsters that grew larger, more powerful, and explosive in the way they interacted with eachother- As they naturally dispersed into the environment and fought in a darwinistic cycle of predation and primal group conflicts, they along with engineered flora, berries packed to the absolute maximum density possible with vitamins and minerals that grew to full and reproduced in days, recycled the pollution at an astounding rate, and soon the public began to take their own roles in it.

One nation producing remote-access machine combatants that could play a part in the fighting, another working on stand-alone species that had larger roles in coalition with global satellites that could create artificial weather, and a third slowly building war machines that would be allowed close to the other's borders under a facade of progress, all chugged away in evolving their species respectively-

Internationally, there were nomenclatures assigned to the different types of Pokémon that described what their genetic makeups allowed them to do, with some being designed to catalyze their energy out of orifices to make various degrees of heat ( Fire ) , some cellularly built to allow for extreme physical feats of rigidity and strength ( Fighting ) or creatures that could adversely affect and manipulate the nervous systems of their opponents ( Psychics ), all of which had varying degrees of success among one another, like Psychics being effective against Fighting types because of their typically extremely densely packed and hyper-reactive nerves and muscle tissue could be affected quicker by a tempering.

As well, different moves of different types could be broadly categorized and seen in use by many varieties of differing creatures, but ultimately their genetic makeups determined how well they could use the respective attacks.

All of the creatures were designed to take such severe punishment that upon reaching a cataclysmic point of internal or external damage they could induce themselves to an automatic stasis coma wherein what was left became preserved and dormant until repairs could be made through the use of some kickstart of energy, like certain plants or Pokémon moves- In cities, repair stations.

And most importantly, to allow for natural reproduction yet still huge forms with huge energy factors, a process of "evolution" wherein the gradual growth of a creature could be catalyzed to happen in instantaneous stages from birth to adulthood was devised from a mix of the stasis system and by ensuring that a certain amount of stored energy remained in the individual for the process to occur, though for some it may differ, as their designs became extremely competitive and varied.

This was until the land between borders was so hyper-populated with these Pokémon and their respective flora that eventually the opportunity to cause havoc was perfect for one of the superpowers, who staged a full frontal assault with gargantuan waves of purpose-built assault weapons including Regigigas, ( Plural for a lot of them- ) who were camouflaged to the environment and masked in the public records as Gorilla familiars meant to stimulate artificial glacial activity by teaming up to move mountains, and satellites that royally screwed the minds of the standalone terraforming units like Kyogre and Groudon, who were meant to be creating an artificial water cycle for the planet, into causing the largest storm Earth could possibly have.

The havoc broke through the defensive barriers, after making a hole into the perimeter of their shields and let in what in seconds became a full-scale war against a genetically pure, delicate race of intellectuals versus biological super-animals and their larger, purpose-built, towering cousins backed by hurricane winds.

To counter this, the nation eventually resorted to a nuclear detonation and selectively took out huge portions of its border population and heavy chunks of mainland in an explosion that was powerful enough to totally annihilate almost every one of the bordering war machines while simultaneously wrecking the rest of the barrier and shredding the environment, with the explosion ionizing the atmosphere in its severity and essentially blanketing everything in sight with additional radiation.

Being clued into what was going on at this point, the next nation in line decidedly ICBM traded the attacker and both of them suffered similar fates.

There are two main possibilities that led into the "Normal" Pokémon, and then Mystery Dungeon.

A: Humans survive this and enact a radical containment measure wherein they invent devices to ensnare and encapsulate a weakened Pokémon, then imposing an altered stasis lock on them and rewrite a part of its information to be communicable to humans, and a production run of similarly built Pokémon are birthed to aide the population in containing the threat in smaller numbers- To ensure security, the civilizations rebuild into the image of a competitive, tournament style gladiator society wherein various licenses through badges are administered to individuals who can contain and command more and more powerful Pokémon, which is a process started at the youth and encouraged into adulthood.

B: Humans do not fare well despite their best efforts, and the damage leftover proves irreparable to what is left of them; Due to this, humanity dies off in the presence of their more capable, feral children and in their wake, leave behind a wasteland of war machines, tribal gangs and satellite-controlling monsters to take over the Earth. Because of the way Pokémon perceive the environment by design, a flaw surfaces in the fact that unobserved areas begin to fluctuate due to what is effectively a freakout of quantum physics, being that the effect of a Pokémon observer is different and less absolute than a human. Because of this, any buildings leftover from the humans have wildly warped and deteriorated into fantastical shapes and layouts, whereas areas catalogued and distinguishable, such as mountains or well-travelled towns, Pokémon-made artifacts and homes, remained stable in place, with dead-zones left behind on the outskirts of land where some spots had become "neutralized" from not being observed at all, and being un-observable from the inside or out.

The latter is where this fanfiction comes in.

Large nuclear explosions and warfare is not wherein this story begins, as that is only the backdrop to where they are-

Regarding the writing itself:

The idea of the original roleplay was that, aside from testing new mechanics, like how these versions of attacks would work, it was based on the idea that the Guild from the game has passed onto another leader and that, since its infancy, it was poorly received by some large portions of the "Wild" Pokémon for having a warped and biased system of judgements and punishment, where elite groups could be sent out from a home location to brutalize certain locations and extract criminals who may have only been protecting an area they had stakes into.

Despite the actions of some very heroic members, like the exploration team who start and finish the DS game, they gained a very mixed reputation, with some begging to be taken by them whenever a team arrived and others fiercely rebelling against them wherever they appear- The story is meant to follow a character who starts off in a Guild and ends up becoming a part of a traveling resistance group that gains members as they pass through areas, try to survive off of the land, without badges can't teleport out of areas when knocked out, and are constantly being hunted by teams trying to earn money and awards for their capture, which escalates up to the supposed end of the story.

I deleted this story and the notes I kept with it on every device I placed it on, but I forgot it was here; Since you cannot explicitly "Delete" an account on RPN and Private Workshops weren't wiped as the site updated, the file remained here with the inconspicuous name "Proto" until I found it yesterday.

It should be made clear as well, that this was an incomplete prototype of all things, and that parts of the story doubled as both placeholder notes for upcoming improvements and ideas, plus an actual story to be reviewed by people who cared at the time, which was not very many.

This is effectively just a prologue to a roleplay meant to "Briefly" exhibit how fighting and interacting with this world would supposedly go and be allowed for the partner, likewise, the last time I personally worked on this was in 2016, and would likely be dramatically transformed if I were to uptake it as a project now, however, it seemed then and became lately a pointless task by most means, that is unless a certain amount of interest was garnered in its continuation. If anything here may be of use to someone else, they may be free to take it as well, since the only reason it exists is because of this site, it might as well exist for everyone to see if they are curious.
 
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"Pokémon Mystery Fungeon" or, "Proto"
Mt. Bristle, 5F. ( Evening ) (Blaziken and Tyrogue)

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Excited laughter spread across the eerily quiet boundaries of the shining room from a single voice, echoing its intensity with a slight "ting" as the sound travelled over dense, sparkling metal. The room made no more noise than crisp crunches under a witnesses' feet as they stepped along the glistening path ahead of them, turning their heads in blatant awe of a sight that could only be seen to be believed; Every inch of the ground, the walls, and even as it seemed the ceiling above them was made of ornamentally produced golden coins, each contributing to a starfield of blooming light- So many reflecting shards that it seemed impossible to deem exactly where the light even came from; Two characters stood in the entrance of the golden chamber, spending a few moments to take everything in.

Another, higher-pitched voice interrupted the appreciable silence of the moment as coins were shuffled in disbelief across skinny, rigid arms that reached onto the floor to scoop and feel some of the gold; "Wow.. Could you have guessed we'd get to see something so awesome?"

The hastily excited Tyrogue quipped back a standard American accent in light laughter to his nearby partner, who seemed relatively contempt and collected with the finding, not ushering much of a noise or movement, likely lost in thought; Perhaps like she had seen it before or had planned it out well enough to have prematurely lived her reaction, however she seemed to stand with a very fixed posture as if she reflexively tensed while overlooking the room and was too pre-focused on the shining tokens for a reply to the comical remark fading into the silence around her tall self.

Neither had much more to bear than a few negligible pieces of simple equipment; The Blaziken and Tyrogue had their standard issue pouches hung from the shoulder, a matte silver badge with a Green-jeweled center on their bags and each a scarf; The Blaziken kept hers around the base of her neck, and the Tyrogue around his wrist- Both gave eachother a few moments to take in the sight, whether it be in excitement or contempt before having a few words between themselves- "I.. How much of this can we even carry?" The Tyrogue questioned.

The Tyrogue's realization was a brief break from the starstruck nature of his imagination; His partner seemed to also briefly recoil with a notion of disappointment, as even both of them attempting to carry a pile in their arms wouldn't bring back much more than the memory of seeing it- The Blaziken spoke after a thoughtful delay: "We could empty our bags."

Tyrogue looked into his pouch, naturally stocked with essentials before responding: "We couldn't do that! What if we were held up without our supplies?!"


The Blaziken leaned down onto her knee to somewhat condescendingly pat her concerned partner on the back, who was completely dwarfed by her height.

"Then we'd have taken the chance to be rich. We haven't needed to use any of our extra equipment since we walked in here, and the climb hasn't been very difficult; Those supplies could be worth their space in money right now! Assuming we don't make it back in under 20 minutes given how easy it was to climb UP here, I severely doubt we'll need the help. Whatever we ditch here we could easily buy back at the shop, and even if Bristle collapsed under us we would be teleported back with at least some of this left- Name me one guaranteed reason why this will be difficult, and I'll let you leave without as much as you can carry."

The Blaziken's speech was slightly but unnoticably hampered by anxiety as she came face to face with what seemed like an amazingly lucky and fast solution to her problems, one she was unlikely to see again should it pass.

As she finished speaking the Tyrogue had visibly surrendered his precautionary reasoning, however still doubtful to the idea. Her beak shifted into a triumphant grin as she caught the response, and immediately scooped the contents of her bag onto the shining ground: 2 Apples, a bottle of syrupy tar-colored liquid, 2 Oran berries, a Reviver seed, ( About as large as her hand. ) and one naturally shiny Blowback orb that all rolled about for a brief moment on the soft metals- She then proceeded to sit, crossing her legs while she leaned around herself to fill her now emptied bag with as much money as she could fit; She glanced at her partner impatiently while her arms excavated more gold, being so comparatively tall that she was still matching the Tyrogue's height.

Sighing and joining her, the Tyrogue took a seat on the coins, more gently setting his bag items out against the room's wall: Three orbs, ( Foe-Seal, Rollcall and Decoy- ) his own Apple, a Blast seed, Warp seed, X-eye seed and Pecha Berry; Neither had carried or picked up much more than the essentials for the trip, and the Tyrogue began reluctantly stuffing his purse with handfuls of sparkling coins- And within a minute's time, there was a dent pulled out of the floor and two very strained, bulging explorer pouches hung on either member filled with likely over 7000P worth of gold- Even the badges on the face of the bags seemed to be pushed out of the fabric by the immense density of the material.










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Mt. Bristle, 5F. ( Afternoon ) (Spinerak)

From the inconspicuous darkness above and beyond the sparkling wall of coins surrounding the two trespassers, two white pupils held a faint glow in the shadows, each as thin as the head of a pin; His six, Yellow/Black striped legs hung forwards and bobbed in gravity as he receded up his nigh-invisible web he'd been sitting in for the past hour or so, by chance witnessing the two enter. He rubbed his mandibles together in peculiar thought, before receding up the remainder of his webbing and crawling his way into the deep end of the unlit crevice. He found his way in the darkness to a surmountable crack in the ceiling, and scurried outside before the two could even think to leave.

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Mt. Bristle, 5F. ( Afternoon ) (Blaziken and Tyrogue)

The duo fastened their bags, looking around the chamber for one last time before nodding at each-other and reluctantly walking towards the cutout they entered through, the Tyrogue looking back for a brief second as they left shade and protection from the elements. They slowed their pace to a halt as they reached the lip of the natural doorway that would lead them outside of the mountain's interior- From there they could descend from the outside. The Blaziken's scarf flapped on her neck as the natural breeze of the mountain's wayward face looped overtop the unique peaks of Mount Bristle, channeling warm air overtop the area and into the chamber like waves. The Tyrogue readjusted the bag on his shoulder, seemingly uncomfortable with the weight it put on his bony arm, standing just behind his partner, who tightened her scarf to hug her neck as tightly as possible without discomforting herself.

The view from their position was not anything in extremity, as Mt. Bristle was a mere hill compared to the scale of the distant mountains past the vast alps segmenting them all, overshadowing Bristle even in the scenic view where they stood out in blatant enormity, still drawing attention those hundreds of miles away; But they took no more time to dwell on the sight, and began their descent.

They had encountered two idle creatures who watched and let them leave, however otherwise their journey out of the area went completely unhindered from leaving the chamber to the final floor of the mountain; Almost like something wanted them to leave.
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Next day at the Village: ( Morning ) (Petair and Timach)

The duo woke after affording some frivolous luxuries and services out of their new, partially questionable cash reserves in the previous midnight; Now, they woke up later than normal at the sound of annoyed yells from their monitor: A Primeape exploding in a low-key Scottish accent.


"Get the HELL UP you lazy asses!! What happened yesterday that's got you sitting around like a tree planted in your room?! You know nevermind, just get up and go do something, you wasted enough time in the past 2 hours already! (And unlike a tree ya' aren't getting any more impressive.. )"

The rest was nothing more than what could be described as mumbled, irritable growls as their monitor stomped off into the halls, presumably looking for someone else to yell at. Reluctantly climbing off of their stacks with grimacing expressions, the first to speak after Primeape left was the tired Blaziken, looking thoroughly annoyed.

".. You think we could go back for more?" The Tyrogue frowned purposefully at his partner, bearing visible signs of reluctant frustration with what he probably assumed was inherent greed.

"Why? We have what we need, right? This could support our team for.. For as long as we need the kickstart, we already have enough to see it through. Our careers are already paid for."

His voice took a few moments of action to sound fully composed, as his speech was forced to initially crawl over a layer of exhaustion that slurred up his words; The Tyrogue wanted to be at the guild from the start, and his prideful feelings about it were quite obvious when it came to purpose and loyalty, building a little bit of prior tension between them as a team since the Blaziken was always reluctant to admit her place as an explorer, let alone openly accept the title of a "Guild Member" when she was usually only interested in jobs that got her OUT of the community. Sighing, the Blaziken replied:

"Sometimes I think it's scary how much you want to be here. "

Timach's expression turned somewhat confused as he processed what
that exactly meant. "How do you mean..?"

Her voice lowering faintly: "I've never seen you question anything we do or wonder why rules are so strict and uncompromising. Doesn't it ever bother you that we're always working to impress someone and aid the system, rather than get out and fulfill ourselves?"

She had a light tone in her voice, likely inspired by her mindset; She wasn't really speaking from the heart, more like she tweaked her views into a less objective, less vulnerable perspective that wouldn't bring up any questions and talked to her partner in a somewhat eerie, conditional way; Doing so mostly so that he could even respond to what she was thinking.

"I.. 've never really thought about it like that. I like to think that I'm contributing to the Guild's influence and helping to spread our values, so that maybe someday, after we all work to fix the problems around us we can grow and provide rational order. Then, we might not get as many requests for help or criminals to catch, with less lawless places or dangerous groups roaming around. "

He paused, probably weighing his next words before he tried using them. "Didn't you grow up in a place like that, Petair? I mean, where things weren't as stable and crimes weren't as punished-"

It was clear that he didn't know as much as he wanted to from how vaguely he worded
his claim. When someone was more or less adopted into service from an outlandish
location, who was around supposed criminals and grew up without a nearby shop to
feed them, it was easy for anyone starting a loosely-educated rumor to assume it was
a hell on earth, given what they had all usually seen in dungeons and rescue missions
were over-aggressive, viciously irrational waves of Pokemon all fighting for a cause
nobody could claim to understand beyond- "They're all out of their heads."

As he somewhat prodded at Petair, she resisted the urge to question why he would bring that up, let alone have the tenacity to assume like it was all so textbook a story that it could ever be simplified. The real reason it irritated her at all was because nobody technically knew, and she didn't even have extensive-enough knowledge to explain it herself- She wasn't very old when she joined into the guild, and was just a young Torchic around the time anything had actually happened in the first place. Although once she began to mature out of childhood she was told that she was rescued out of a Dungeon, she wasn't given a lot of specific detail besides the presumably essential information, including that she was taken from criminals who had caused a lot of problems for explorers and that they felt duty-bound to take her back, raising her at the Guild just after Wigglytuff had resigned and the legendarily powerful exploration team credited with saving the world entered "retirement" from Guild sorties. Their overall cautious methods of explaining the story had always left an unfulfilled doubt in her mind, and the self-justified structure of the explanations would have her countercultural mind scraping for holes in the plot- Needless to say it was bothering from time to time.

Although a lot of immediate, rather aggressive responses made it to her head first Petair quite calmly told him- "It was outside of the Guild, yes.. But I wasn't old enough to understand what was really going on." She hoped in faint that he would take her vague point as a cue to to stop talking about it.

The Tyrogue made her a sorrowful expression, and briefly apologized to her- "I'm sorry; I can't imagine what it'd be like to be around people like that as a child. At least you're here now, right? I think it's worth enough appreciation to help out."

Although she was beginning to feel a few more pricks of irritation, being tempted to bend back what she felt was an unfairly assumptive and even slightly condescending approach to her motives and her early parents, she tried to turn the conversation back to Bristle and the golden chamber they'd found after a slight pause, configuring her words to sound less annoyed than she actually was; After all, he was beyond conversation over something like this, he was completely biased- Which was exactly why he was paired with the challenging woman in the first place.

“I do help. I’ve risked my safety to work for the cheerful people of this place and give them almost all of the money I get from that work. You know, like the 3000P I got for capturing a violent criminal who had supposedly hunted and ate natives of that area by that “Mystifying Forest”. I’d ask if you remembered, but you were too busy being told how wonderful this place is while I contemplated how to avoid being killed. Then I got back, and my formal reward was this scarf.. “

She sighed- “Look, this is exactly why I’m asking you to go back and help me get some more of that money. If the guild doesn’t know, they can’t tax us and we can actually enjoy a reward for once. “

Petair looked at the Tyrogue for a reply, who seemed slightly nervous as he spoke back- “I.. I just don’t feel comfortable going over their heads like that. T-that’s just looting a place, we earned it last time we went! I.. I get what you’re saying, but this isn’t something I’d do. “ He straightened his expression, doing his best not to crumple over on the spot as he felt practically cornered by her flawlessly straightforward logic. It seemed selfish, but even he had to admit what she was thinking wasn’t crazy.

Her eyes blinking, standing up straight and patiently waiting to speak, the Blaziken frowned. “Well, then- I have a better idea anyways. I’m going to go and do it myself, and all you have to do is say that we’re splitting up to tackle different jobs at the same time. Now, I figure you do not have a problem with minding your own business should I feel the need to get out, and I’ve been feeling rather cramped working with you anyways- How about a small break?”

Walking nearby their room's doorway, the monitor Primeape grumbled what was like his version
of a deep sigh. "You guys are SERIOUSLY still in here? I see how it is, I say to get your asses
out and do something- so you get your asses out and talk in the middle of the room all nice and
comfortable! Let ME CLARIFY. Get YOUR asses OUT of THE ROOM and GO DO something ELSE than TALK."

Timach's voice cracked before he could speak. Being younger and a "model" student of the Guild's, any reprimand would get him shut up in an instant as he was trying to make a name for himself. Although he was technically defending the guild and helping discipline someone, he was too anxious in the face of missing lunch or pay to speak up for himself. Petair on the other hand was nigh expressionless. She knew just as well as Timach that there was little to argue about in the face of present authority, but she seemed more dignified in general and felt more independent about her responsibilities.

"We got carried away." She said calmly, making the matter seem less like a spit in his face and more like a casual coincidence.

Primeape gave both of them an inquisitive look and shook his head before he stomped off again,
likely satisfied by the response but on the edge of his temper regardless.






Timach seemed to be trapped by an invisible stockhold, his will to continue defending the Guild powerfully conflicting with his fear that any extra seconds spent talking we're going to ruin his streak of goodness. Petair took the moment of reluctant silence to reset her thoughts- She became quite sidetracked arguing, and realized by now that she was just challenging his faith
in Guild authority rather than proving her point. Although, she had already been feeling frustrated and
wasn't much in the mood to continue, let alone listen to anyone else harass them through the doorway should they stay too long.

In somewhat of a loss attempting to rethink what she had originally planned on doing to either
manipulate Timach into following her out to Bristle or just agreeing with her, she simply walked
out of the room in a few quiet seconds, Timach following shortly afterwards; "Later." She said dismissively.

Walking down the hallway, Petair looked around herself. The place was a familiar site, and had only changed a little bit since the original structure was built. Constructed on a steep plateau, the Guild was quite sturdy, mostly composed of densely reinforced wood packed into dirt and stone foundations underground; It was quite generously spaced, in fact VERY generously spaced. The ceiling wasn't just tall enough to accommodate someone as tall as Petair, but could likely house a giant- The ceiling was never any shorter than about 9 feet, the hallways being roughly 6 feet across. A few miscellaneous vines draped from the ceiling, the floor being largely dry and sturdy dirt, likely packed down and torched to a fine beige, whereas the walls were mostly an earthy Brown.

She never gave it too much thought or bothered to ask, but she always found it fascinating to think someone built such a monumental structure. Although such architecture is commonplace in continent dungeons, many of those have only speculatory origins based off of local legends and are usually ( Or appear to be ) natural, in an oddly self-evident way that hadn’t been very much looked into.

Sighing, she reached the lower-floor from which the Guildmaster’s room and other bunks rested, a stairway having been recently constructed out of stacked logs reaching to the upper floor to convenience the heavier of those taking refuge there, which had to deal with what was before a rickety and small, although very strong, ladder. Petair took a few steps to reach it, her massively long legs giving her a convenient edge in walking speed, taking 3 steps up at a time, each of which were about 10 inches long to make way for claws and hoofs.

After just a handful of steps, she turned her head to briefly observe the next floor, which was where Chimecho’s assembly ( For registering Team members for one’s group and assigning them to different tasks ) sat in the corner, again having been recently moved for efficiency along with both the outlaw and job request board. Both were simple planks which had many small sleeves on their face for placing tickets entailing the details of a job, only one of each to eliminate unhealthy and potentially violent competition between teams who may be interested in the work, with a wax tablet on the front of each envelope that briefly marked what job was beneath it, carved courtesy of a loyal Guild member that she had yet to see in action. Although her observant mind was keen to check up on her surroundings, she waited no longer to continue up and out of the guild building, walking out of the large entrance-face in a few moments-

As she walked out from the shade of the building, ( Provided by the large roof-like stone entrance that was said to have once been the image of Wigglytuff ) she stretched her arms to her sides and smiled. She felt a tingle within herself as the feeling of freedom reverberated through her bones; She already felt rewarded just walking outside of what always felt like a prison to her athletic tendencies. Not bothering to turn around and placing decent faith in Timach’s lack of bravery, ( Feeling as though he would sooner tell everyone he was a missing criminal than admit he let Petair go without saying anything to the monitor. ) her legs bent by the knee, and like a spring she bounded off of the flat hill-top the entrance of the guild and into the dense tree-dominated land behind it...

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Mt. Bristle, 1F. ( Night ) ( Petair )

6 days have passed.

It was her 5th time coming back to the chamber for yet another bag's worth of effortless reward; She had amounted enough already to last herself multiple years at the least, including luxuries and token expenses among anything she could think of, however the practice was more invigorating for its implications of freedom than the things she could buy. The coins she planted in an inconspicuous and rarely-travelled path a small distance, perhaps 4 or 5 miles, from the Guild she was eagerly awaiting the total escape from.

Her plan felt simple to her. She just had to make sure to have some extra coin should there be anything she didn’t think about, which was the last thing she was going back for. Collecting the money this way was dramatically faster than any job the guild could offer, as the lack of taxes meant that the tens of thousands of coins she could use were all going straight to her departure, none even seen by the guild she was tired of profiting from her strength; She would have enough funds to buy out all of the supplies she would need in order to move out from the village which she felt reluctant working for. Knowing that it would be easy for someone to find her, she left her badge behind and in the same stache holding her money. She met no real resistance there, so she anticipated no reason to care about an escape option.





The mountain was quiet; Only the wind generated ambient noise and she was mute as she walked, straining her eyes to see in the shadows covering Mount Bristle. Her footsteps faded into the open air as her feet struck onto the ever changing stone beneath her; Yesterday the path led her into circles, and today it seemed to get her closer and closer to Bristle's central column without any unusual detours, awkward climbs or dangerous gaps to cross; Indeed, the path seemed VERY convenient today- Even for Bristle, which was largely regarded as an easier location to traverse compared to other mountains.

She was making good progress, as every minute's worth of walking brought her closer to her ultimate goal; However, until she was close enough to the center, she discarded the habit of watching her peripheral while she walked, having built a tolerance to the stumbling debris and random noises as she previously tended to them with no beneficial result; All she needed to look for was the stairwell leading to the next floor.

Feeling as though she was getting close, Petair carelessly kicked her leg through a thin string of cobweb resting on the ground that was otherwise practically paved, with no ceilings or walls to reinforce the path. She kept her eyes forward with an increasingly deadpanned expression.

The Blaziken's consciousness began to track her own footsteps, and by ironic coincidence she snapped into focus to consciously investigate what drew her back into the moment in the first place, throwing her into a brief loop before she started to feel strange; In focus, the sounds that became monotonized in her subconscious started to separate themselves from the picture and she realized quite naturally that something wasn't right.

"Sc.. K-k... " As she continued to walk, tiny pairs of shining pupils fixed themselves in place within the dark crevices surrounding the rocky outcrops of Bristle, in parallel columns beside her vision. She didn't panic, knowing the area did host some naturally skittish species around- however her eyes widened instinctively, and as she continued along the eerie nature of every prodding eye stacked onto her consciousness. Most bothering to her was that they did not move, they only continued to appear as if hundreds more lined the path waiting for her; Uneasily, she tightened her scarf back up to closely embrace her neck as she reluctantly continued, and the eyes kept popping up.

This could not be a coincidence- One by one, her instincts caught up to her: She could feel every additional eye pop into sight with every nerve in her body trying to step off of the path and leave as her acute senses were simply overwhelmed and uncomfortable; but she came all the way out for a single reason, and her stubborn will to acquire the last of her necessary resources pushed her.





As these views conflicted, so did she become frustrated with the slow pace and began to run in hopes of leaving her thoughts in the dust behind her and getting through the area faster- The clacking of the ground under her feet only signalled the thousand eyes in the darkness to come like a starfield of ominous glares before she nearly headbutted a wall of stone, the center column she was looking for in mild anxiety, focusing away from her path until the last moment. "AH!" She yelped out in a sudden outcry before charging through the now vaguely recognizable path leading to her prize- Up she went with great acrobatic finesse, off the mainline path and into an arching row of jagged stone like a natural stairwell leading into the interior of Mt. Bristle's higher structure.

To her relief, the next two interior routes and the third exterior level were quiet as could be, without a soul in sight around herself- Each path seemed at best "Normal" without any convenience or inconvenience, leading her to think that maybe the prior encounter was a coincidence in entirety despite it’s sudden intensity, or that she simply imagined things being alone there at night. Either way, everything looked promising until the fourth interior floor.

"Ks.. K.. " The familiarly eerie, silken-quiet noise of what she presumed to now be Spinerak quietly reverberated through her ear, unsettling her at the least; But with how close she was, it was only natural for her to push on and into what she came for: She walked through the first "corridor" of the floor, feeling that a straight-shot path was the most likely to contain geographical cues as to where the generally easily-found chamber could be this time around, which was obviously positioned when one knew they were on the floor with it; Likewise, she found the ceramic panel on the floor within the next five minutes- It had always been against an exterior wall under cover from stone-like textured paint. In the moments leading her back into the chamber, her motivation and overall pride rocketed tenfold.
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Mt. Bristle, 5F. ( Night ) (Petair)

She dropped another handful of coins in her Explorer's bag. The chamber had not necessarily dulled in size, but as a few more dents littered the shining room so did its perfect nature die away and become nothing more than a memory; The golden chamber was little more than a withdrawal box devoid of achievement now, and so was the bag being currently stuffed with easy money; It only took a few more seconds for her to finish systematically cramming the pouch and fasten the bag on her shoulder again, taking a deep breath before her legs carried her to the familiar exit; Except now, looking out from what was just a few floors from the peak of the mountain, she did not see a simple, inspiring picture adorned with warm winds.







She looked out of the entrance lip to see a massive shadow- The moon was over the other half of Bristle, the light of which was blocked in near entirety, leaving almost nothing visible; However, the glistening dots she became recently familiar began to blink out of the shadowy blot- One by one, hundreds of tiny, eerily lighted pupils beamed paranoia into the Blaziken as she attempted
to think through her descent. As she spent more and more time trying to avoid thought of the eyes, she eventually frustrated herself and jumped down from the exit somewhat recklessly, sliding across a few feet of angled stone before working her way down the floors again and in her mind, escaping.
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Mt. Bristle, 4F. ( Night ) (Petair)


Petair managed to work her way back down an entire floor, quickly surpassing a small handful of Spinerak watching her run to the next lowest level, the descent of which was categorized by a naturally generated downward spiral column of firm stone on the rounded exterior of the mountain, hanging off its edge and leading back into the interior within a dozen or so steps; The Blaziken was in an obvious rush, taking advantage of her long legs to stride almost 5 feet for every one step while she ran- However, as her focus wavered in the sprint she missed a sparkling, thin thread of silk on the ground, which she would have likely ignored anyways reflecting on her earlier experiences with the occasional random cobweb under the moonlight.

It was not a random cobweb. As her weight was thrown into another step forwards, her leg charged into the glistening string, almost instantly pivoting the entire Blaziken onto her face without any difficulty. It would have likely also cut her like a coil of steel cable had her legs not been heavily insulated with colorful fur to dampened the shock; The entire fall offered no more time to react than a few parts of a second, in which she could only gasp and flinch instinctively.

Climbing back up and exuding a frustrated growl as she briefly knocked the dust off her face, her eyes blinked back to where she was going to run, and was instead greeted by an eerie sight that blocked off the rest of the path in its entirety, with heavily insulated and somewhat metallic webs fortified both in front of and behind itself- It was an Ariados, an especially large Ariados whose body appeared to be a very rare shade of Purple, with yellow stripes adorning its long, intimidating legs and sharp eyes tracking her with confidence; It exuded no fear or will to back up and flee, hanging from the ceiling of the walled-off path. Although, it had to be there for some reason, she thought- As it would not be so stupid as to risk being attacked over a joke, or so naive to think it could prey on a Fire-type.







Petair felt somewhat cornered, as the only other paths out were much more demanding to take or physically impossible in nature, including most obviously the option to descend down the jagged, uncompromising side of the mountain that she may or may not be able to do without falling to her death should she become unlucky; So she paused, and true to her desperate, stubborn nature clenched her claws into hardened fists, and a ring of flames burst out from the base of her wrists in an explosive fashion with an effect similar to lighting a torch in the darkened room- One on one, she thought the Ariados was doomed.

A Gallade walked into the room from the exterior doorway she entered it from, and stopped roughly 17 feet away from where she stood, having to look up at her from even that distance. Petair was just over 6'5" tall being an average height for a Blaziken, and the Gallade stood almost a third as tall, being 4'10", 5 or so inches shorter than most Gallades would be by comparison; He called out from the other side of the room:

"Hey!" He sounded relatively calm and non aggressive in tone, as if he was chiming in with his higher Midwestern-American voice to give everybody some positive news, despite the relatively unamused and currently flaming Blaziken looking down at him. "I'm sorry if you didn't get a very good vibe from the natives, nobody is looking to attack you.. But, we can’t condone you looting the place any more. “

Petair cocked her head slightly, still very clearly holding a combat-ready stance. "What?"

Sighing, the Gallade answered her calmly, with a small, wavering grin and partial eye-contact. “I admit it was bad on our part to give you so little forewarning, but we heard about this late and got here even later. Our problem is that although they don't mind a excited individual to take a few dozen expensive little trinkets out of their collection, you seem to be coming back for more.. And a lot more- They spend a very long time living here collecting and neatly storing all of those shinies away when they find them, so you can guess they'd be a little anxious when someone started taking a lot of it, but what were they gonna do about, right? So we- “ He gave a firm nod to the Ariados. “-.. came in to speak for them.”

Petair thought through the scenario- She was literally one grab away from being done entirely and would be hard-pressed to forgive herself if she walked away after all of the work she had done just to *almost* finish her goals. She swallowed, almost nervous- And replied somewhat assertively.







“I was just coming through to build up some funds for-” She paused briefly as she realized that openly saying she was conning her way into leaving the guild could very well be what two strangely polite outsiders would go telling people. She was technically in the wrong, and either of them could get her into extreme trouble if she made such a mistake- But, she also thought that two pleasantly polite outsiders might just let her pass if she said she was with the Guild and doing something to build up funds for it, as those very close to Treasure-Town often held decently friendly relations with the Exploration teams. She felt a change of heart as she spoke and switched tactics immediately.

“- my Exploration team. We were running short on money and needed to prepare for a very dangerous outlaw we were going to try and apprehend.” She felt satisfied with her decision and words, feeling as though such a touchy subject as a loose criminal might raise her even higher above resistance.

However, neither the Gallade or Ariados appeared to be very excited by the words- The Gallade replied curiously: “Hm. That would explain the bag, I thought that was odd seeing you walk in, but what was even odder is that you have no badge. Why didn’t you wear it here?” The Gallade looked strangely serious and somewhat focused as he awaited a reply, for what reason Petair could not guess.

Petair blinked- She had actually forgotten that she hid her badge away, and wasn’t very well prepared to explain why; However, she wasn’t going to be done lying and give up.

“I wanted to stay inconspicuous- I worry that if many got the idea that I would be here by my lonesome that I may be ambushed, and the area seemed innocent enough otherwise so I disregarded the need for an escape.“ The latter Petair didn’t have to lie about, allowing her expression to remain naturally calm.

Of course, the Gallade’s mind saw through a part of this as he had more knowledge about the Exploration team’s conduct than she might have thought. It was beyond frowned upon to leave without a badge or hide one when you were exploring, as this was done by Teams exposed to be participating in crimes and likewise the area may not have been very overly dangerous but at any time one could theoretically misjudge a jump or lose a foothold near the edge of the mountain, so the consequence of both severe reprehension and potentially death appeared far too drastic compared to what a happy Guild member would do for money. And then, why come here without your team and get money from such a place that was potentially dangerous when she could earn it in a job? If she really cared about doing it right she would want to get more work done as she went. This was not even the end of the logical fallacies he endured in his thoughts, and he carefully plotted another statement to try and prod out what she might have really been doing.

Since none of that made moral sense, and he figured she needed a bigger reason to do what she claimed to be doing; He kept in mind, too that she seemed intelligent.
If she wanted to lie she could, and this might be the only chance he had to catch her in the middle of it. He decided to focus on the badge and her lonesome combined.


“So, why not bring the rest of your team here; Surely, the strength and protection of numbers combined with the ability to escape should be a better option than to both isolate yourself and remove any identification- And why would the Guild let you leave without it?” The Gallade kept a eerily light and friendly tone in his voice.

She blinked. “I took it off as I was leaving- “

He interrupted her. “Isn’t that completely against the rules, though? You couldn’t have forgotten, so why would your risk that sort of punishment?”

She frowned while replying, her assertive advance thrown off by his challenging intelligence and sudden interruption. He knew when to cut her off to stop her changing the subject.- “Because I didn’t think-”

“- That they’d know? It makes sense, being that you didn’t bring any of your team members with you. The Guild wasn’t told you were coming here, were they? And it doesn’t look like you intended for them to be able to find out. “

She grew angry as he spoke, seeming about ready to raise her fists again. “I didn’t think it mattered to you whether or not the Guild wanted me to go here- I’m not their slave.”

The Gallade sighed, his tone dropping to an almost sympathetic low as he responded with a hint of disappointment. “You’re right, I really don’t. What I’m concerned about is that you’re lying to me so that we’ll let you through- And you obviously don’t feel bad about it. “

At this point, Petair was realizing that talking her way through the Gallade was about useless. He knew too much to be easily persuaded and had already caught onto her guise. Her expression seemed to harden as the Gallade looked into her eyes.

“And unfortunately, I can’t trust you to leave, either. “

Petair’s brow raised as she detected a hint of dominance in his voice, instantly sparking her competitive nature to grow within her. “Excuse me?”

The Gallade narrowed his eyes, angling his head forwards as he spoke:

"See, even if you agreed to leave and never come back I'd still run into a few problems letting you go, because guild members cause problems for non guild members; If you miraculously accepted my plea to drop what you collected and take no more, you would be more than easily able to go back and write me up on the Bounty board for robbing you, thus assigning someone to come in and bust the place up looking for me- Or, you could just wait awhile and come back for more after I would have probably left, so keeping you here is the only surefire way to prevent such complications and help out in the long run.”

His face briefly faltered into a cold, unforgiving expression before he sighed, locking into firm eye contact with the Blaziken. His inert, natural sense of another's physiological state gave him enough insight to guess what her response would be in the coming moments, and Petair's thoughts reflected a large part of his expectations.

The idea in itself wasn't completely unappealing to her, as in fact she was doing this in large part so that she could live independently from the guild, but the conditions in which the opportunity presented itself were something Petair was completely unprepared for; Not to mention of course what horrible stigma there was for the "Feral" population outside of the village corners that most were still quite discriminatory against, and she found herself quite skeptical of anything a notoriously crafty, potentially manipulative psychic had to say when she had been more or less roadblocked.

“I’m leaving. “

With the lot of thoughts in mind, Petair had little more to say, and her thoughtful gaze was replaced with a hardened, watchful glare at what she expected to be somewhat of a pushover opponent in front of her. The Gallade's expression turned sorrowful, almost disappointed before he focused into a frowning expression to match her, angling his knees into a wider stance and releasing the long, curved edges of his arms like switchblades, swooping backwards to a point, while he faced Petair with the side of his torso, keeping a blade behind him; The Gallade understandingly nodded at Petair as he entered what seemed to be a relatively trained and uniform position to himself. The sympathetic nature of his expressions were eerily similar to those of an apologetic nature, as if he was sorry for what he was going to do. His Pupils began to glow a vibrant hue of Violet as what was a presumably a “Psychic” energy exuded from them.

Petair became tense, feeling a small reluctance to attack as her opponent gave off a strange aura like something she had never encountered before; Having never seen his species she could only speculate about what abilities he possessed and what weaknesses he wanted to exploit. Whatever he was planning on doing, he looked ready to do it. Petair's wrists burnt more intensely, pulling back and tightening one of her claws into a charging Focus Punch as she anticipated him having to close the distance and in her mind, give her a chance to prepare the first strike. The colorful Ariados maintained its presence in the exit route, simply watching.

The Gallade's eyes became completely enshrouded within the same Violet his pupils glowed, and within a moment his body followed suit; He dematerialized and instantly reappeared in front of the Blaziken, lurching forwards into a dash followed by drifting fluorescent particles presumably left as a side-effect of “Teleporting”. His blades rapidly elongated as Pink-matter extended from them, shaping into slender, curving swords adding roughly two feet onto his already long arms and projecting an eerie neon glow onto the floor beneath them, one of which he extended forwards in a punching motion that ran clean into the Blaziken's lower-right abdominals before she could reliably process what happened; The Psychic nature of the attack completely flooded her now barely-bleeding wound with intense pain, but was otherwise superficial.

Flinching in shock, Petair staggered backwards as the unfocused blur shot through her peripheral and struck her in the side; The hit took a moment for her body to process, starting as a cold rush that quickly materialized into a sensation not unlike chemical-burn. Her punch was delayed in the stagger, and discharged all of the energy in a strike that missed the Gallade entirely as her reflexes jumped the gun in surprise; However, she overcame the bulk of the pain with a coarse growl and a shudder, attempting to twist around about 90 degrees and strike the Gallade with a hooked Thunderpunch.

The Gallade turned around to face the attack, leaning out of the punch's arc by pivoting backwards on his left leg and bending his right to sway away, then pulling himself back onto the spot just after she turned and missed to cut into her shoulder with another bright, diagonal Psycho-cut from his left arm followed with a small rotational spin and delicate footwork, throwing his right blade backwards across her thigh with the longest, heavily swooped part of itself; His focused expression was completely unwavering, vocally silent throughout every attack with little more than a whistle signalling an incoming strike as his blades carved through the air between them.

Petair wasn't feeling as elegant, her left arm exploding into what was now a familiarly recognizable and difficult pain to avoid, followed by the same burning draped across her thigh that would beg her to collapse; Each additional strike seemed to multiply the pain of the first like a growing waiting list of frustrated nerves while she attempted to fruitlessly defend herself from an opponent she didn’t want to fight. What had prior seemed like a specific, situational growl became almost constant as she continued her habit of attempting to block out her instinctual urge to tend to her wounds or back off, now having tensed up her muscles to the point where she made jagged, sudden movements with little care or precision. Yelling out with audible frustration, she leapt backwards as far as she could manage in an attempt to open distance between the two before he could continue to do more damage, and raised her dense, naturally reinforced arms to block him in case he moved quickly enough to intercept her.

As Petair began to act defensively, the Gallade felt the intuitive sensation within himself confirming his average speculation. He could sense and logically tell she was losing her confidence, but she clearly wasn't done fighting yet. Whatever he would do, it would need to be punctual enough to keep her down and take advantage of her reluctance to continue, giving her an opportunity to be reasonably defeated and cut her losses; He knew she still had a will to fight, and would probably sooner throw another punch at him than try to run away, provided he put enough pressure on her, so he started to run at her, figuring that doing so was the best way to lower her guard by inadvertently giving her hope for an opportunity to strike back. Although he didn't quite see a Blaziken every day, he knew their competitive spirit was legendarily brutal and it would be very hard to resist such an opportunity in the face of a winning opponent. All he had to do was throttle her spirit, and he could control whether she became defensive or aggressive.


Her arms lowered as she was given a small window of opportunity to act freely, a brief and tempting freedom to choose her next move that she would take as much advantage of as she possibly could- She had to, and as much as she hated to think it in the brief moments she could manage to, it may be her only chance to fight back at all; She already lost most of her good health and her head start by being overconfident when it mattered the most, and now it was her last chance to escape at the worst- So she put all of her energy into one faithful attack, the flames on her wrists dimming as she redirected her strength into a bright, hot-orange glow forming between the halves of her beak- within another they erupted into a wall of fire spreading across the majority of the distance between them in a vaguely cone-shaped blast of reliably effective heat.

For the first time in the fight, the Gallade tightened his expression into a face that could be considered as strained before he willingly ran into the wall of flames. In the few parts of the second that he chose to do so, his speed on foot climbed dramatically as he widened the gap in his steps and practically skipped into elegant jumps as he hit the inferno and disappeared in the blast of Red/Orange heat; Before his body emerged from the other side, the blunt part of his left blade (or hand) jutted out of the inferno in front of Petair in a Red-tinted, glowing Brick-Break punch aimed straight into her stomach.

The fire was cut from its source as the dense muscles packed into the Blaziken's stomach were blatantly inadequate to stop the force of the strike, and she was visibly winded as she exuded a sudden, empty gasp for more air whilst bending forwards slightly by the weight of the hit; While it wasn't enough to knock her over or take down her balance, it was beyond successful at briefly incapacitating her and cutting off her fuel to attack. She flinched reflexively and squinted by the shock of the blow as her mind went blank for any more plans to retaliate; Calculating that such a smaller, thinner opponent could have struck her like that and within such a short amount of time without teleporting again, enough for her strength to be made insignificant- was beyond her expectation or belief.

As the fire cleared, the Gallade was revealed; By then his arms were turning around and he had already moved up closer to her, and well within range to effortlessly reach anything he needed to hit; And so as his arms spun around, he landed a skillfully aimed shot with his right blade straight through the bands of her explorer's bag that she had kept well out of the way throughout the fight, and with his following left blade he made a delicately angled cut into Petair's neck, shearing her ribbon down the middle and throwing it with the rest of his blade straight off of her while a small, seemingly insignificant few drops of her blood following behind; As both strikes passed in under a second of time, his arms rotated again in rapid succession into a dual-chopping motion across her chest, making what was the widest and deepest cut on her out of the entire fight she endured in one of the most muscular-dense areas on her body. Within the next moments she was free to move he had returned to the textbook position he had started the fight with, his body now covered in wide, dark burn marks from the mere moments he was within the power of her flames. He had been careful to only superficially damage her, but he cut deeply enough to induce a small amount of bleeding
and encourage the shock of the injury around her neck to hopefully blow out the sensation of injury and stop her trying to get up again.

Petair's mind drew a long, hopeless blank as she was overwhelmed by the sudden barrage of strikes- Her jaws were briefly locked open as the lack of breath to draw from hit her before the realization that trying to launch any further flame was hopeless, and she wasn't even aware of the wounds he had inflicted or her bag dropping onto the floor until she collapsed. She hadn't fainted, but her conscious mind had taken back over just in time to be overwhelmed by the severity of her wounds and process that she had been defeated.

Being held off of the ground on her now shaking arms, she stared at the ground while one-by-one, each of her senses caught up to her. She could feel a freezing-cold pain creeping over multiple regions of her body as she bled from irritated wounds, the likely scream-worthy sensation only being suppressed by a sudden layer of shock and fear to do so. As she noticed a small dribble of blood fall from the base of her neck and the fragments of her torn ribbon laying in her peripheral, she felt a panic and held as still as she could while her natural instincts screamed at her in unison- "Your neck is injured! You might be about to die!" and irrationality took her completely while the Gallade might as well be satisfied to know she wasn't getting back up- At least, to fight him and not within probably thirty or so minutes should he keep her where she was. Although she wasn't critically wounded, she did lose enough blood to feel slightly light-headed, but being as large as she was it was unlikely to threaten her life at all.

Of course, she wasn't well aware of that.





















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Mt. Bristle ( Night ) ( Timach )

The dutifully-driven Tyrogue had been sat on finding his either hopelessly lost or rogue partner for a while now, having to take some different routes without the height to oversee terrain as easily Petair could, and without nearly as much help to catch himself or fight anything should the need arise, being alone. Timach was given some bare minimum supply as he set out to look for her in the area she was most likely in with a few other willing individuals being sent out to other areas, with some essential items like an Escape orb ( Which he kept closest at the top of everything else- ) for returning with Petair should he find her in whatever condition she was in, a Roll-Call orb for drawing her to him should she be trapped too far away for him to pick her up with the Escape, and a few apples in case the journey ends up taking longer than expected. The Guild could have supplied him better if they weren't stretched for immediate resources, as the most equipped Explorers were not around for consent to use their items and the shops only kept a lot of 20-so at a time in stock.

Timach was advancing up the dark exterior of the mountain floor by floor, taking a similar path him and Petair used a few days earlier before she went missing, carefully avoiding a few riskier areas in the face of limited reach and lesser physical strength- While Petair could practically charge up the side of Mount Bristle, Timach wasn't built enough for the same long leaps and dedicated grabs, requiring more of a foothold and smoother surfaces to make it as far, needing more time and less distractions. Not to mention, he was still developing many of his attacks and abilities whereas Petair could openly challenge many kinds of opponents- Another reason he chose not to convenience himself and use the interior floor rooms of Bristle being that he expected more feral encounters there, and thought they may not be as passive should he look less threatening alone.

Although it took him awhile longer than he'd like, Timach managed to make it up the third "floor", indicated by the stairway-like structure leading him up, which refreshed his memory as he reminisced the spiralling path aside the mountain's structure greeting him and Timach just before they had entered the same area containing the chamber he expected her to have pursued; He shivered, as the breeze was colder at night, although somewhat weaker in comparison to the daylight winds. He sighed, both disappointed with himself and frustrated with the situation. “Ugh..!” He shuddered again, more fiercely as a stronger current blew by and irritated him, his teeth gritting before he could think to vent any more.

Timach frowned to himself, and focused back on task; Resuming his efforts, he continued to crawl up the steep incline the mountain offered him, straightforward as a path but strenuous to get through as he always found himself second-guessing the darkness to try and avoid any pitfalls or slips. He wasn’t quite hanging over the edge anymore, but he wasn’t made of steel and it would hurt quite a lot to knock his knee into some jagged slate, should he make a bad mistake. This path was eerily quiet, the sights and sounds Petair experiencing absolutely nowhere to be seen as if their purpose was complete and presence diminished. He took upwards of ten full minutes just to climb them, and doubt grew into his mind- Could he even catch up to her? If she had been here, she wouldn’t have taken nearly as long and could probably have scaled the majority of the path before he even got there.

Looming over were his fears, casting his motivation into a wavering inbalance of confidence and hesitation; Timach’s thoughts brought weight into the first steps he took on truly even ground. He looked behind himself, reassuringly thinking of how much he accomplished before looking back ahead, and seeing the screw-like column of rock leading into the fourth floor he had been anticipating. “Finally..” He breathed to himself, voice quiet with a hint of emptiness. Taking some stiff, awkward steps forwards he readjusted himself to being completely upright and shifted into a more comfortable pace as he stepped onto the unnatural column, looking over the edge of the mountain as it led him upwards.

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Mt. Bristle ( Night ) ( Petair )

The Gallade had rescinded his glowing weapons back into whatever ethereal dimension they were created from, the luminescence in his eyes and the elongated blades diminished, standing up above the Blaziken with folded arms resting against his chest. Still residing on the floor, compliantly motionless, quiet and seemingly exhausted, Petair didn’t appear to have done much more than crawl backwards from where she was struck down, and lull herself into the impression that if she didn’t bother the psychic, he wouldn’t bother her. Sitting with a wall behind her back, Petair’s tall, bent knee supported her right arm, hand protectively clutching the side of her head and giving her the means to conceal her face while her other arm passively cradled her wounded and likely still stinging stomach.

It was somewhat less of a scene than before, the blood having dried on the ground, reduced to a matte stain unnoticeable in the absence of light, both combatants at temporary equilibrium. The Gallade upheld what was likely a personally understood rule to himself, not to preach any righteous words or proclaim any dominance after their violent encounter and instead gave off a pleasantly polite and respectful aura as he maintained a fair distance away, allowing Petair some room to realign her thoughts. He didn’t look relaxed or refreshed, nor proud and victorious; Instead, his expression was a steady, neutral gaze forwards that invoked no imposing presence.

Meanwhile, further down the passage they occupied, away from the two by a margin of at least 30 meters, the bag Petair had been stripped of was laid flat on the ground, emptied to the bottom. The Ariados from before had spent the last few minutes allowing the many Spinerak hidden out of her sight to systematically empty it, simply watching as one by one they would crawl to it, take 1-3 coins, and make a U-turn allowing the next in line to continue the chain. This took less time than one would expect as they worked with the fluidity of a conveyor belt, gleefully reclaiming their prided stache one by one.

It took another minute of waiting, but the Gallade broke the silence in the most unusual way Petair had ever seen, dreamed of, or expected someone to do so after a fight.

“Are you ok?” His voice was immaculately controlled and delicately serious, giving the instant impression of genuine sincerity. It was the absolute least imposing he could manage to be, and Petair was locked in a brief, awkward silence as she was given exactly what she wanted, but could never afford to have asked for.

It was apparent to the Gallade, whose head turned to meet her covered face after minutes straight of directionless looking; She really tried to avoid fighting him- Her competitive spirit was masked by a constant veil of uneasy panic, thrown against a wall of exotic attacks she wasn’t used to, against an opponent she was hopeless to avoid. Her constant, regular discomfort was not something he needed to hear from her, as he flatly understood the small, intricate signs of her predicament. He was no Gardevoir, so he couldn’t jump to enough conclusions to guess exactly why she was in between a rock and a hard place, but he knew well enough that however a misled soul she was, she was nowhere near the kind of creature worth crippling. He had the idea that after her materialistic objectives were crushed, she wouldn’t have the means to be as defensive. He was right-

Her face stayed shallowly buried beneath her dense, powerful hand as she uneasily responded, taking the opportunity to rest the naked, hateful feeling she endured after the loss. “I’ll live.” She scratchily worded. It wasn’t much of a full conversation, but the Gallade was allowed somewhat of a hollow, warm sensation in his chest marking relief as he was at least indirectly told that given some time, this was a mendable conflict. He shifted his view forward again, and uncrossed his arms just as his eyes instinctively tracked the steps of a suddenly noticeable figure on the dark path ahead.

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Mt. Bristle ( Night ) ( Timach )

Timach’s eyes widened with a spark of caution and invoked curiosity as both figures came into view at roughly the same time, one being instantly recognizable and the other foreign and somewhat frighteningly unknown to his conscious. It wasn’t very easy to make out details when you stood a distance away from someone outside at night, with no lights to guide your sight besides the warm glow of the moon. His senses were trapped somewhere in the middle, an intense relief flooding him as he saw his partner but a sharp reluctance to move any closer as the deeply focused and eerily somber-looking psychic stepped forward. Petair remained idly sat, Timach noticing that she covered her face.

As tempting as it was to instantly pop his Rollcall orb and leave, his thoughts were entranced by what he saw. What was Petair doing, sitting against a wall? He decidedly matched the Gallade and walked forwards, meeting him in the middle of their path and stopping just a meter from eachother.

Timach felt somewhat of a static dwelling within himself as he looked up to see the psychic eye-to-eye. At the least it was not nearly as tall as Petair, and his neck was allowed to relax for once as he hardly needed to tilt his head from that distance. Although, despite the relatively calm and collected meeting he too felt strangely nervous; The situation felt delicate for some reason, and words were not simply produced. The Gallade briefly eyed his badge off the front of his bag, expression unchanging.

“You’re here for the Blaziken, aren’t you?” Again, the Gallade exercised his adept skill, the master of breaking the metaphorical ice as he initiated speech.

Timach nodded, taking a steep, short breath in and out.. “Right.. I’ve been looking for her.“ He replied with a hint of apparent nervousness. Squinting to see her, he noticed Petair was still motionless in the background and inferred that she must be incapacitated in some way or asleep, making the assumption in his mind that she didn’t even realize he was there and probably couldn’t hear him from where she was sitting.

His eyes seemed imbued with some form of acknowledgement as they glistened in faint light, turning with his head to view the Tyrogue. “So, what’d she do?”

Timach’s eyes seemed to widen slightly as he began to explain. “Well.. We agreed to take two different paths of Serenity river so that the water wouldn’t be up her fur and she went off somewhere when we were apart-” His voice rang with premonition, as if he recited the words before, just loudly enough for Petair to hear across the room, who was forming a frown in what little bit of her face was visible. Timach, not looking in her direction as he focused on maintaining composure in front of the Gallade, didn’t appear to notice.

What Timach had done, she realized, was not come to get her because she had been gone for long enough to invoke fears of her potential misfortune or because somebody else declared her absence unreasonable; That, she could have sympathized with. Timach needed the reputation, and he could only help her for so long if someone caught onto what she was doing. To continue the allaby would have been unfair to him, placing a relatively fragile and inexperienced newcomer on the chopping-block of questions and interrogations the guild would have imposed all so that she would be able to collect enough money to leave his group for good; Of course, none of those were the reasons why the Guild was looking for her now.

Instead, Timach took advantage of her plan to run out her membership and escape service; He decided that, in a wake of frustration with her unhelpful nature to his cause, to take advantage of her wish to leave at the Guild’s expense. After a short amount of time, he declared her as having abandoned him- Just the kind of thing he could exploit if he managed to go out and get her back in a remarkable amount of time, solidifying his ability to command respect as she was known to be openly independent, and he might not have disclosed that he knew where she was.

What had further aggravated her thoughts as the words Timach spat rang through the air, was that she would not have known, and that he probably wouldn’t have informed her, that this was what he did. If it wasn’t for the appearance of that Gallade, Timach would have led her back, collected coins and badge in hand, to the Guild. She probably would have been arrested and he probably would have been promoted for doing nothing more than double-crossing her.

“- So, I guessed she was going back to the mountain since she had remarked about wanting more of the golden chamber’s contents- “ Timach continued to run through the middle of what seemed like a semi-reasonable, but noticeably unconfident explanation to the Gallade, whose expression was kept as flat and untelling as it could be. Petair recognized by now that anything the psychic did was consciously ordered by his mind; Something she couldn’t personally relate to as the conversing duo’s peaceful meeting was interrupted by a Blaziken’s left-hook punch throwing the Tyrogue away from the psychic and into a rather severe roll on the ground; The psychic had dashed well out of the way, like a seed picked up in a gust that travelled by the room before Petair was even finished jumping into Timach. Even he, in light of his focus, seemed briefly surprised and failed to react in any other ways than to get out of her path.

The Blaziken, driven by a frustrated insurgence of anger and hopelessness, had practically blinked out of and into existence as the darkness smoothly complimented her timing and movement speed; She had literally jumped off of the wall behind her just to hit her partner after hearing what he had to say in regards to his fabricated backstory. If she hadn’t been enveloped in a brief rush of energy and hate, she might have however applauded his ability to lie in the face of such a seemingly intelligent character. Instead, however, she was reminded quite painfully of why she decided to sit down against a wall. Her freshly-flexed side and a very large portion of her arm blasted Petair’s consciousness with rebounding pain as the wounds she allowed to rest were once again revived into the foreground of her nervous system.

Lacking the rush of stored energy and panicked responses she had encountered in her earlier fight with the Gallade, there was nothing significant in play to mask or drive her through the immediate pain she felt other than her motivation to overcome it, and instead of countering whatever Timach was preparing to retaliate with her reflexes forced her to cringe, eyes looking down onto the wounds that she had momentarily attempted to ignore.

This moment spent paused and motionless without an organized thought in her mind was more than enough of a break for Timach to run up and jump at Petair’s crumpling figure, kicking out his leg with great speed near the end of his short, but quick leap to hit her just below the center of her chest, the area of his lower-leg and foot briefly reflecting an Orange-Red color as it locked itself into a rigid striking position; His expression reflected an intense growl that echoed from Petair, who was reacting more out of pain than to physical damage as she sucked in her stomach and cringed, her arms twitching down to her sides.

As Timach drew back with his arms raised, feet freshly on the ground again, he seemed to be visually distraught, eyes widened, his frowned expression warping into and out of confidence as he sensibly realized what he’d done; Petair’s was a look of straightforward disdain, eyes narrowed down, overlooking her surroundings and focusing onto the drastically smaller creature she had previously considered her ally. Her physical pain seemed to fade into her subconscious as an emotion strong enough to topple her senses worked its way into her body; She dashed forwards on the tips of her talons as fast as the rocket her colors emanated and flaming knuckles mimicked, hurling her right arm into the Tyrogue with enough acceleration to make it appear as though a laser was fired into Timach’s face.

At once, before even the sound of his collapse was heard across the room, he was blinked out of sight by a cone of yellowed light shrouding the area near and around his body.

Petair, now rather quiet, didn’t look elsewhere or even bother to move off of the spot, remaining in the same lateral position. Moving her arms back down to her chest and dropping onto the floor, she laid flat and crossed her right leg to her left, which stayed perpendicular to the floor. The Gallade began to walk towards her in quiet, light-footed steps as the Blaziken’s eyes began to look down onto the ground, reflecting her suddenly dismissive thoughts.
 

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