Forum Thread

The world has fallen to utter chaos. In the past one-hundred years, Pokémon have risen up, destroying most vestiges of humanity. It is still unclear what initially caused them to turn on humans, but it is very clear that Pokémon have become the dominant species. Humanity itself is now upon the brink of extinction...those left are few and far between, struggling to survive in a world that threatens to extinguish them.

No longer are there Pokémon Trainers roaming the world, and the Pokémon Storage system has long since been destroyed, Pokéballs rendered useless. It is through ingenuity that humanity has still survived, though some have been raised by Pokémon themselves, unknowing of who, or what, they are...unless these "parent" Pokémon tell them otherwise.

This is a tale woven by the Survivors, a story that does not simply tell itself.


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Humans, Pokémon, Hybrids... There are very few true humans these days, and fewer hybrid beings. In order to survive, the humans attempted to adapt, to change their nature. Some were forced into it, dragged away to hidden laboratories after being kidnapped...some volunteered themselves, or their as-yet unborn offspring. Then there were the attempts to hybridize Pokémon in order to bridge the gap in understanding between them and humans. Things did not, however, go as planned.

Humans who were forced into the program were difficult to control, and any powers they developed unpredictable at best. More often than not, though, the process of combining their DNA with that of Pokémon would cause violent and rather gory deaths for the unfortunate test subjects. The same, regrettably enough, happened with any Pokémon whose genetics had not been altered before hatching.

Truthfully, Hybridization was in its infancy when the world fell to the onslaught of the many enraged Pokémon that seemingly appeared from nowhere. The scientists who were fortunate enough to have been working in reinforced underground laboratories managed to keep themselves from being discovered, and so the process continued. Through trial and error, it was refined, and strange potions were produced that were capable of affecting both Human and Pokémon alike, altering their bodies on a near-cellular level. Even more refined was the process of editing the genetics of both before natural birth.

Almost fifty years of research into genetic manipulation was well-spent...at least, that was the belief, before the creation of a small number of catastrophically dangerous subjects. Human...Pokémon...the line had been blurred to the point of nonexistence, by humans desperate for any chance at surviving and fighting back. Two such subjects eventually caused the complete and utter destruction of Cinnabar Island in the Kanto Region, wiping the island off the proverbial map. After which, both subjects vanished without a trace.

Because of this, development of such beings was halted, until a method for controlling, or even guiding them in the use of their powers, was created. Those that were active were placed in sleep-stasis pods loosely based on the now-defunct Pokémon Storage System, and research into creating less-dangerous subjects proceeded. Thus were born Pokémon with forms that were just short of classifying them as human. These new variations of existing Pokémon species were classified as The Guides, and were raised carefully. Their sole purpose was to guide and nurture the sleeping subjects.

The first subject was awoken, and the Guide was introduced cautiously. Many tests were performed...and all but one were successful. The final test proved disastrous when the Guide commanded their charge to attack the scientists and destroy the laboratory, resulting in the deaths of all personnel. The explosion that followed created a ten-mile deep crater, and atomized Eterna City in the Sinnoh Region. Similar explosions began to occur across the world, cities and towns vanishing, mountains becoming craters... The devastating shockwaves resulted in a massive loss of life to Humans and Pokémon alike.

No words could describe the horror of the event, which came to be known as The Cataclysm. As such, the surviving laboratories were further reinforced and became impregnable bunkers, many sheltering survivors of The Cataclysm. Those that continued the experiments did so with caution from that point on, and were careful to treat all subjects involved with the utmost care and compassion. Or at least, that was the belief. The reality...was that there were a very small number of the laboratories that refused to change procedure, focused only on progress. And it was these laboratories that, ultimately, were responsible for the near-extinction of the human race as a whole. Their only goal was to create superior beings that could be used as weapons against the seemingly-endless hordes of enraged Pokémon.

And one such being freed themselves from a laboratory located beneath Lumiose City in the Kalos Region.


It has been just over one hundred years since the first appearance of the enraged Pokémon, and only twenty years since the entity freed itself before attempting to wipe humankind off the face of the planet. What once were grand cities and peaceful towns are now merely ruins, many of the buildings too destroyed for anyone to use. Humanity has managed to survive, if barely, though the world is beginning to heal, and the people are slowly returning to the regions they, or their predecessors, once called home. "Remember...not all people or Pokémon will try to kill you. If you can coexist together, you WILL survive." These words were the final broadcast the world ever heard, as humans began to emerge again, trying to pick up the broken and shattered pieces of their past.



You are a Survivor, and the only goal you truly have is to stay alive. Human...Pokémon...Hybrid...it matters not. What matters is how you choose to survive in this world.

Death. It's inevitable, really. All things die, so others might live. This was a lesson Gothitelle had tried to teach Edmund when he was very young, so that he would not feel badly when they had to hunt for food. This had been a constant while they traveled, as they had left their cave outside of Pallet Town far behind. And so they traveled as Ed grew, taking unusual routes to reach their new home: One of the few remaining houses that were still intact in the ruins of Vaniville Town, located in Kalos. During the journey, Edmund had noticed odd voids in the landscape here and there, as if something had simply...scooped it away. Gothitelle, on the other hand, avoided any questions about this mystery, as if she either couldn't see it...or was willingly ignoring it.

Their reason for leaving Kanto was fairly simple, though: The Rampaging Pokémon had completely overrun the Region, tearing apart whatever they could. Fearing for the safety of Edmund, Gothitelle had suggested they leave their small cave just west of the ruins of Pallet Town, to try and find somewhere, anywhere, that was safe enough to simply...live in. So their journey took them through many different Regions...and in each of them, Edmund noticed things were only getting worse and worse. More damage, more missing chunks of land. All of it far too cleanly cut to be natural. So clean, in fact, that it made his head hurt looking at it for longer than a few moments. Whereas Gothitelle simply...seemed to ignore it all. Did she want him to stop asking about it? Or...was she trying to protect him from something? The only way to answer those questions would be to ask her...and she'd refused to give him anything, choosing to change the subject instead. This was rather frustrating for Ed, but...he decided it would probably be better to leave those questions alone, and instead focused his energies on their survival. This journey eventually led them towards Kalos...and most of the Routes were in shambles, completely void of people and Pokémon alike.

The two, though, had eventually found a small community of Survivors in Vaniville, and decided to settle in one of the still-standing but otherwise empty houses. The Survivors themselves were a small, ragtag group of around ten Humans, who didn't seem to mind the unusual appearance of Ed and Gothitelle, much to their relief. It seemed these people were simply happy to have a few more hands around to help out with growing crops and harvesting berries. Cultivating the land was hard for ordinary folk, after all, so Gothitelle and Edmund were more than happy to help...though Edmund kept his distance from the majority of the Humans.

Today, like any other day, Edmund and Gothitelle were outside, gathering food. Gothitelle handled berry collection, while Edmund collected the rest of the ingredients for their morning meal: Rice, assorted grains, and smaller Pokémon that were often used as food. The catch consisted of a Pidgey and a couple Magikarp, which meant both of them would be eating pretty well this morning. It also meant the few other survivors living in the ruins would be able to find plenty of food as well, as the crop yield this month had been rather exceptional. Yet...something seemed a little off today, as Ed glanced around. There weren't as many Pokémon in the area...and in the distance, he could see something that worried him: A large chunk of the mountains were missing.

Internally, he sighed, refusing to bring it up with Gothitelle again. She simply...didn't want to acknowledge that their world was vanishing. Better to keep it to himself, then. At least they'd managed to work out a system of communication between him and the Humans, so they could trade supplies. Sighing aloud this time, Ed hefted his own scavenged bag, and began to make his way towards town, hoping to get a few things for the morning's Figy and Pidgey Curry.

His plans, of course...were simply to just get through the day. And today seemed to be going just like every other for the past three months.

Bags were stuffed, knots were tied; a heavy and somber finality settled deep in the corvid's gut as he gazed at the scene, realizing perhaps for the first time that his time in Opelucid City - and the Unova region as a whole - was over. As was becoming routine, it was time for him to find a more secure, albeit temporary location of residence to replace the one that had just become compromised. His packing did not take long - as a post-apocalyptic existence dictated, the corvid was a vagabond, albeit by choice and necessity, and not by nature. All the places he had once stayed tended to blur together in his mind; their significance only as notable as their ability to protect him and provide him with sustenance and shelter. Very few stuck out to him, but Opelucid was indeed one of these places in which leaving became intertwined with regret. Black sclarae eyes narrowed briefly in somber thought as he made to arrange the sheets into a more pleasing array, claws making little scraping sounds as he worked. It was soft, silky like down, but he did not have the space to take it with him. Light sleeping and watchful nights often ruffled them, and Lysander had no intention of creating such trouble for the next inhabitant. Not to mention that the steady motions, which meant little to him now that he did them so rarely. Outside, Opelucid was the very image of a static serenity, not a breath of movement to be seen. He breathed in; the scent of rain drifted in on the wind, even if storm clouds were yet to be seen. Sometimes, if he thought about it long enough, the peace was stagnated to the point where it seemed strange. It was as if the violent purges that occurred outside flowed around the city as a river is obstructed by stones. Very few, if any, rampaging Pokémon desires to show their faces here. A safe spot in tag.

Too bad he would be leaving. The very thought soured his mood considerably; the thought that he would have to risk his neck because of others didn’t sit well with him. Black talons raked through his messy locks, pulling on them as an outlet for his negative emotions. Try as he might to hide his emotions, Lysander was not immune to them.

Just focus on packing up.

You shouldn't be leaving because of them. This is your territory.

Where are you even going to go?

"Well, anywhere that's not here, right?" He breathed softly into the silence, fists tightening. Or that's not crawling with pokemon looking to rip me to shreds. "Do I really have a choice?"

Callista clambers out of her mini base— the one she had converted from the lab she was once held captive in. She slings the bag over her shoulders, venturing out to go get more food, along with other materials that would reinforce her base. Life in Lilycove City was not what it used to be, a once pleasant city now reduced to ashes. However, as Callista walked along one of her usual scavenging routes, she noticed something odd. The tall stone tower of Lilycove City lay in shambles. Strange. She could have sworn she had seen it intact yesterday. Oh well, it must have been the rampaging Pokemon again. Such fresh damage as well…as long as she wasn’t affected, Callista didn’t really bother. That was another building down. The 25th one she’s actually noticed disappeared recently. She found a berry or two, and went about collecting scrap materials from the rubble, sorting useless pieces from those that could actually be used. She collected fallen logs, another thing out of place from yesterday. They certainly weren’t destroyed before. The work of the rampant Pokemon again, she supposed. Callista visited the nearby stream, catching a Magikarp. This would work for her, she thought. With all materials collected, she headed back to her base, storing the things, before taking off her clothes, folding them neatly and placing them on the glassy sand. She dives into the water, swimming around as she relaxes. Nothing to eventful, just the usual destruction. She would relax while she still could, she thought.

---

It was raining. Hard, anyway, but it was to be expected for a swampy place such as Laverre City. Keaton shook himself out, feathers puffing up in mild annoyance. He wanted to fly- To catch something to eat. Yet, the winds were unpredictable, and visibility was absolutely awful. The man had been hiding away in the ruins of one of the houses within the small city, thankfully having somewhat of a roof to have a dry place.

He didn't have much, but at the least he was far away from his 'home'.

Deciding to get something from the drawer of what was assumed to be a dilapidated kitchen, since it was more convenient to hide his things away, the man took out a knife. If he couldn't fly, then he would have to look on the ground for his dinner. Of course, the man was also a little too stubborn and picky. Who would want to hunt in a place where you could sink and die? Or get easily ambushed? Tucking the knife away after wrapping it up in cloth, Keaton made his way to the giant, yet quite ruined tree. It would've been perfect to live in, having such a high vantage point.

It didn't seem to occur to him at first, but the scenery was... Different. A lot of the land just seemed, well, gone. Unnaturally, at that. It was too clean, even compared to the damage that was left by any rampaging Pokémon. It was... Bad.

It felt wrong.

Shaking himself out once again, Keaton was kind of glad that the damaged tree allowed him to view the sky a little easier, opening his wings to stretch before eventually taking off. It took a few flaps of his wings to gain lift, along with running a short distance. Continuing to flap vigorously until he reached an ideal height, despite the rain pouring on him, Keaton began to make his journey to a much more open zone to gather food. The hybrid did wish he could've just gathered something simple like berries, but with the weather and the threats of being ambushed or getting stuck in the swamp, it wasn't ideal. Of course, being high up also made seeing the damage even easier.

Gods, it was awful.

The early morning had barely crested over the hills when the first signs of life began to stir. It was a fairly innocuous house, broken down and destroyed like much of the rest yet its bedroom still held a bed large enough for two to comfortably rest in. With a rustle of sheets, the gentle sound broke the quiet vigil, bare feet padding gently across stone cold flooring. Scattered clothes, gingerly picked up as to not dirty or rip them any more than they already have been, too tight clothing flitting over too thin bones creating a perfect flutter of fashion. A muffled curse squeaked out in the lonely night as the person ran into a doorframe, the faint morning light barely giving any visibility in the unfamiliar room. Damp fabric dragged over flawless skin marred by the purpling blooms of the night's tryst, gently wiping off the sweat and grime that its partner never deigned important enough to do. A shaking hand roughly dabbed away and the lurch of its stomach was nothing new along with the bone deep tiredness that was commonplace after such sessions. A shiver wracked its body on the next swipe of the filthy rag which caught on a particularly ragged patch of coral scales and with a silent scoff, Eneko threw it into the sorry excuse of a sink. It was lucky that it had chosen to hunker down in Sootopolis for the time being, the running water and relatively intact buildings a blessing in the wasteland that defined most of the world, a small island nation where only the wind and waves crushed any chance of survival on the once peaceful city.

As always, the first piece of clothing to go on was its choker, an accessory that once felt like it would squeeze all the air out of its expansive lungs, a hot brand clenched around its neck as a sign of ownership but now lay contently against its collarbones. It was a warm little trinket, encasing the entire column of its pale bruised neck, shaking fingers jerking the zipper up until the metal teeth knocked against the underside of its jaw. One by one, bruises were covered up by thick fabric, each piece darker and fluffier than the last as the layer piled up. Half skirts over thick leggings which tucked neatly into chunky boots that would be wholly impractical in the water for it not been the fact that it was a hydrodynamic challenge that Eneko thrived off of. Shirts, sweaters, jackets, and necklaces all piled up one atop the other, grounding its floating mind into a warm cocoon of fashionable comfort neither prioritized above the other. From its bottomless pockets a clutch was drawn out, beaten and hanging on only through sheer stubborn spite, and full of cracked powder and half used cosmetics, the gentle application of such a luxury sparse and frugal as Eneko covered up the bloom of purple crawling up its jaw onto its cheeks and the dreaded birthmark. It was a familiar ritual by now, applying makeup in the dark while its body ached with phantom sensations, mind slowly coming back into its body and crawling out of the abrupt drop to reality it had been forced to go through.

By the time everything had been meticulously applied, the sun had peeked over the craterous lip of the city and light spilled into the ruins of a land that witnessed disaster twofold. Its shoes clunked against the rubble which littered the floor, a hollow muted sound as it crouched beside the tattered bed, riffling through the scattered clothes haloed by the morning. It was only when it finally managed to unearth the ratted brown bag it was searching for from the tangled mess that something in the room shifted, the calm morning air sharpening into an edge. It froze under the sudden shift, a beginner’s mistake, as it only drew attention to it and the mess of blankets on the mattress shifted as the man who was under sat up with sleep still fogging those dull, bland, eyes. The bleary mumble of “angelcake?” had Eneko moving again with an uncomfortable grimace, standing and clutching the bag firmly in its grasp.

“I’m just taking your payment.” It said curtly, looping the strap around its shoulder. It wasn't all too heavy, a shame, but it would be more than enough. Sleepy eyes seemed to sharpen at that, a frantic shuffle of clothes accompanying the leisurely clop of boots picking its way towards the blown out wall on the other side of the room. Stepping out and basking in the gentle sun, Eneko contemplated which way to go next. Leaving Hoenn wasn't a bad idea in its opinion, with its limited resources and ruined landscape, it was more of a final resting place more than a place of survival. In the first place, this island had always been plagued with heavy weather and natural disasters, the raging pokemon only destroyed what semblance of peace this region had been clinging onto. Every city, by virtue of being located on costal lines and by the sea were all swept away and drawn out to sea, pulled down into unimaginable depths. Each time Eneko dove into the sea, slicing through the clear waters and dancing among the coral, the sea floor would always be littered with the remains of someone else's livelihood. A red tiled rooftop here and there or even some broken pokecenter equipment long since unusable due to water damage. It was a shame, from the storybooks that its parents had read to it when it had still been small enough for such trivial things to be allowed, they had spoken about the old world with nostalgia and wonder. To them, it was a bygone era of possibilities and intrigue, something that had once been but never will be. Still, Eneko had to keep moving if only so it could stay alive. No time could be allotted to marveling at inventions a century old that no longer worked. As it was deliberating about where to travel to next, a question that clung to it like a second skin as it dictated its every move, there was a flurry of footsteps before a dull pain bloomed along its back. It wasn’t anything excruciating so Eneko played it off as a by-product of the night before the pain began to twist and warp, drawing out a scowl of annoyance.

“Sorry baby doll, can’t let you take my entire supply bag.” Its assailant huffed, putrid breath curling around a sensitive ear which made Eneko squirm away in disgust, both at the smell and at the horrid pet name. It knew morning breath was a thing but man, none of its previous hookups had been quite so bad. Sure, it could handle the occasional jerk looking to murder it but bad breath? Nah, that’s where it drew the line. Reaching behind it, Eneko grasped the knife firmly and yanked it out with nary a whimper nor a wince, letting the blue blood drip off the edge. The wound itself wasn’t very deep despite the tremendous amount of force applied, looking no worse than a common papercut. A perk of having some of the toughest organs known to both human and pokemon was that attacks were so so so easy to shrug off, crushing blows merely glancing off it, but for some they took it as an invitation to try again. Which was exactly what its one-night stand did. Man, Eneko really should have been better when choosing their victims but old habits died hard and being a little bit of a gold digger was unfortunately one of those charming qualities. When his attempts at carving Eneko’s life and flesh out were met with only disgruntled looks and thin blue lines, the man stared at its cold grey eyes with an all too familiar fear that honestly the other was getting really tired of. “You’re a monster.” He whispered.

“Well yeah. That’s the entire reason why you wanted to sleep with me.” Eneko deadpanned, grip tightening on the bag before with a heavy swing, the other was knocked clean off his feet and sent crashing into the ruins behind them. Oddly, the body seemed to sail for much longer in the air before hitting the pocked landscape with a puff of dust and rocks. Oh well, it was probably it’s imagination, Eneko reasoned. “Fore!” It yelled out as the poor git who thought it would be smart to attack a hybrid slumped over unconscious. Dumbass. Serves him right.

---

Calverus had posted himself up on higher ground, the ground being that of a tree branch so maybe not really ground. He blinked, shaking his head. The feline-like figure was trying really hard to sulk since he had gotten into that argument with Lysander. His tail was twitching against his skin in irritation, still stuffed under his shirt. He didn't want to move again, hence why he had not only fought with Lysander, but left him to pack up alone. It seemed like Lysander was always trying to keep him from having fun, a total stick in the mud. Calverus had quite liked it here, there was a bunch of neat things to look at and a fun place to just goof around and go explore. It was familiar, it was his, so why did they have to leave?

The feline huffed, wriggling his feet on the branch before sliding off and smacking back down onto the dirt. He brushed off his hands and legs of any dirt, slightly irritated by the dusty feeling. He ran his hands through his hair as well just to be sure before starting to trot over to Lysander's last known location. As much as Calverus didn't want to leave the thought of being left behind scared him more than anything, so it was back to Lysander. When he came upon his corvid companion standing outside he couldn't help but snicker seeing the load of bags they were very possibly struggling to carry at this moment.

"Oh, Lysander!" He crowed in a teasing voice, "You weren't thinkin' of leaving without me, were ya?"

---

The first thing Edmund noticed upon waking up (from what he hoped had been a short nap) was the sound of screaming. After which he noticed the smell of smoke, and the sounds of fighting followed. Then...silence. It was so silent it practically weighed down on him. Quick as he could, Edmund grabbed his things, throwing on his clothes and moving to wake Gothitelle. <Mother, we need to leave. We need to leave NOW.> He kept his voice as low as possible, shaking her awake before moving to cautiously look out a window. An action he regretted almost immediately, as outside was pure carnage.

The entirety of Vaniville had been torn apart save for his and Gothitelle’s home, and the mangled and shredded bodies of both people and Pokémon littered the ground everywhere he looked. Blood soaked the earth, even splattered across the fresh rubble, and from what he could see...the humans hadn’t been able to defend themselves at all. It seemed almost like what happened took them by surprise. What set him on edge, though, were the twisted, hate-filled faces of the Rampaging Pokémon outside, so close he could see everything wrong with them. And with the angle of the sun, it was impossible to miss a single detail. Their bodies contorted, their forms...practically feral. The closest of them somewhat resembled a Luxray, only...there was a lot wrong with it. The body was practically emaciated, the mane tangled and ratty...the eyes filled with hatred and bloodlust. These creatures weren’t quite among the species he knew. In fact, they almost looked like...like they were what came before. The predecessors of modern Pokémon. But that was crazy, right?

As he tried to quietly move away from the window, Edmund stumbled backwards over one of the pots he’d meant to put away the day before, causing it to clatter across the floor and smash into several other pots nearby. <Shoot! I hope they didn’t-> Almost immediately after, the guttural growls and snarls started making their way towards his and Gothitelle’s home. This was their cue to get out immediately. Quick as he could, Edmund scooped their meagre belongings into his bag, grabbed Gothitelle’s hand, and started to use Teleport...only to be slammed to the floor by what he thought was a Bagon. It was hard to tell, and it knocked the breath out of Edmund.

When Edmund managed to scramble away, he could see that the door lay in splinters, and the wall was now partially smashed, revealing a small group of the twisted abominations that the Survivors had come to know as Rampaging Pokémon. By his count, there were about seven in total, all varying species, and the one calling the shots seemed to be the Luxray he’d seen before. It snarled something he couldn’t quite make out, but the tone implied it wasn’t going to be anything nice. Thinking fast, Edmund quickly used Psychic to throw the nearest Rampaging Pokémon at the rest, before grabbing Gothitelle's hand as he leapt to his feet, dragging her through the hole in the wall.

They both managed to put a few hundred feet between them and the abominations, before Edmund quickly turned and cast Psyshock behind them, breathing heavily. He’d cast the Move just in time, as the Luxray had gained ground rapidly and was nearly upon them. With it stunned and knocked off its feet temporarily, Edmund had enough time to cast Teleport while grabbing Gothitelle’s hand again, squeezing his eyes shut as he focused on his destination: a small clearing just south of Aquacorde. He could only hope there was nothing else in that clearing when they got there.

Silence weighed heavily as Edmund held his breath, eyes squeezed shut as tight as possible before Gothitelle gently nudged him. "We're fine, Ed. You got us out." Her voice was barely a whisper, as though she were afraid there might be something in the clearing they'd teleported to. Truthfully, it was just about empty, with a tree in the center which was surrounded on all side by tall, dense shrubbery. Opening his eyes, Edmund let his breath out slowly, glancing at the shrubbery surrounding them and the tree. It was a lucky break they'd ended up hidden inside. Especially with the fact that night now appeared to be approaching rather rapidly.

And with the night, he knew, there were far greater dangers than those monsters that had destroyed their newest home. There were horrifying creatures that roamed the land at night, made of rotting flesh and resembling Pokémon known as Gastly and Haunter. But that's where the resemblance ended. These were solid beings, incapable of passing through objects...and incapable of going near water, no matter how fresh. As far as Edmund knew, they were zombies. He'd had the opportunity to study one of their corpses up close, once...an action he'd regretted moments later when the smell hit him and turned his stomach.

Inhaling deeply, he let out a shuddering breath and moved to sit at the base of the tree, before noticing a small collection of items. A couple potions, a box of gauze, and a small collection of assorted berries used for healing were what he found, which gave him a bit of relief. He hadn't noticed the ache from getting hurt by that unusual Bagon, though now that the adrenaline was gone he could feel a bruise beginning to form near his lower right ribs. <...Well, that's gonna be tender if I don't take care of it now.> He muttered, as Gothitelle came over to lift his shirt and inspect the injury. She took one of the Potions and sprayed the already purpling mark, before taking some of the gauze so she could begin to carefully wipe at the other wounds she could see on his arms and hands.

Injuries were nothing new to either of them, though they both knew it was better to treat them immediately rather than waiting. With a small sigh, Edmund sat at the base of the tree, and leaned back with a slight wince. Definitely going to be tender. He thought with a grimace, and Gothitelle laughed softly. It was something of a joke between the two that they could read one another's thoughts, whenever they were a little too quiet around anyone else, but the reality was exactly that. They had spent quite a bit of time getting the hang of hearing thoughts from each other to prevent discovery while out at night.

Once her ministrations were finished, Gothitelle carefully joined Edmund against the tree, and the two leaned towards the other before closing their eyes. It was going to be a long night, and it was better that they kept as quiet as possible. There simply wasn't a point to going anywhere at night. They'd both heard the stories about those grotesque zombies, how they would rush anyone foolish enough to travel in the dark without protection. And how nobody survived those encounters. All that would be left were shredded, hollowed-out corpses whose faces were frozen in terror. Let's just hope we're safe here, Mother. Gothitelle could only agree with the sentiment, and the two drifted off into an uneasy slumber as the sun began to sink past the horizon.

Sinking down in the water was almost easy, the rush of bubbles rising to the surface as it only sank even further into the blanket of cold ocean. Waterlogged boots only dragged it further down and its suspicions were only confirmed. There didn't seem to be anything other than other pokemon and other marine life. Sure the land was pocked as well and litter from the continuous storms had made their home on the sea floor, but it had all integrated itself into the environment. A muffled clang rippled outwards as Eneko landed on one of the many red-tiled roofs before pushing off with powerful kicks. Behind it, a slender pink fin always covered by hair and cloth streamed out to direct Eneko's movements and keep it aware of its surroundings. Slicing through the water as it was created to do, Eneko briefly enjoyed the feeling of its gills fluttering against its neck and ribs, a feeling so scarce nowadays as running water would be a luxury that very few could ever come across.

The family popping of ears as Eneko surfaced as a satisfying end to its hour long sim, circling around Hoenn for any safe spot to land. The road leading into Petalburg city was as most other roads were, deserted and void of life and Eneko moved to pull itself out of the water and search the area for any shelter when a snuffing sound and a gut wrenching horrid stench had it diving back into the water with the softest splash. Thankfully the water was far enough away from the shore that Eneko had enough time to peek above the waterline and watch the road as a hoard of pokemon shuffled through the path. It had to stifle a gag at the putrid smell wafting from the gaggle and suddenly Eneko was very very grateful that even if it had dived into muddy water, it masked the scent well enough that it was still tolerable to an extent. As the group ambled along, some dragging their feet and others jerking their gangly limbs, Eneko could only sink deeper into the water and wait the storm out

---

Staggering under the heft of the bags that were just small enough to fit on his gangly shoulders, Lysander all but lurched towards the door under the heft of his encumbering load. Common prudence bid the corvid pack light, but his brother always had a method of getting his paws on the most irrelevant trinkets. It wasn't like he needed them for anything because the life of an apocalypse survivor Gritting his teeth, he straightened himself through sheer pride alone, refusing to be weighed down by a few bags. The corvid had half a mind to make the torrocat-near-human carry his own bags, if not to teach the felid an important lesson about packing. Maybe if he didn't keep so much irrelevant junk on him, the bags would be light enough so that he wouldn't mind carrying them. As Lysander reached for the doorknob, he realized that one of his hairs had gotten tangled on the earring he wore on his left ear. Amber glittered in the warm lamp-light - the muted glow of faux metal that was in reality composed of a merely precious stone. The fight to get it free was a short affair, dexterous talons well suited for precise tasks managing to coax his locks free with minimal fuss. Irritated, he shook his head; those earrings were getting to be more and more trouble. But the glow was hypnotic and alluring — a corvid's weakness for petty jewels and photogenic flashes. No longer distracted, Lysander tugged the fabric of his biege trenchcoat tighter around himself and exited the door.

Stepping outside, Lysander took a brief moment to let his eyes adjust to the blinding onslaught of light before continuing on. Spreading like starburst, the overload of visual stimuli stung and left him briefly blinded. Soon, the world un-blurred from the presence of lubricating tears, spreading out into fine, detailed focus.

WIp

if putting dahlia on mount coronet isn't ok, i'm fine with changing it

"It's so... peaceful up here..." The muttered words were directed at no one, but the lone mismagius spoke them anyway. Dahlia had committed to the grueling task of climbing the famous mountain of Sinnoh, it's pride and joy, home to some strange ruins that have a sacred feel connected to it. The mage found it odd that every other mountain in every other region had been reduced to mere pebbles, including the smaller spears of the earth neighboring Mt. Coronet, but the mountain itself still stood. Sure, it had massive craters and was on the verge of collapse, but Spear Pillar and the bare minimum land to keep it standing was still there. It was almost as if, even through the endless rampages and destruction, there was an unspoken rule to keep these ruins still. Incredible, really, but Dahlia couldn't help but think there was an unseen force that prevented destruction upon the top of this mountain. Well, who was she kidding, she knew exactly what was going on here, it was the reason she made the hike in the first place.

"One day, this flute will blow a sound that will resonate in the heavens, a sound that will charm the one yet named..." Dahlia had stood at the bottom of the stairs before large, broken pillars to her left and right, on a strange and beaten symbol that was unfamiliar to her. The long, violet tendrils that Dahlia possessed began to reach into the small sachet she carried around to hold all her trinkets, pulling an odd, purple instrument in the shape of a human heart. In one of Dahlia's random excursions in search of more goodies, she somehow came across this strange object and stashed it for later. Now that she had read about the legends hidden under the rubble of the Canalave Library, her mind slowly pieced together the seemingly pointless mystery. Now, she was finally here, standing at what she hoped was the pedestal that could save them all. Wait... What did she mean by all? She didn't really care about anyone else, she just wanted to survive this hell and finally find peace. Well... Here it goes.

With one swift movement, Dahlia brought the unusual instrument closer to her mouth and gave a soft blow, letting out a sound that shocked her a little bit. Surprisingly, the note didn't hold, and instead played a little tune, but her shock caused her to stop abruptly.

Silence.

Silence was all she could hear for the next few seconds, not even the sound of the wind could reach her ears. Again, she played the flute. The same jingle was played, but after it finished, the silence surrounded her once again. Nothing. Again, maybe? No, no she couldn't just keep playing it, that didn't seem right. Wasn't something supposed to happen by now? What the hell? Were the legends fake? A loud roar was let out as she threw the object in her hands to the ground, and it landed without a scratch. Agh, how could she be so naïve? Believing in some legend in hopes that this world wouldn't be in shambles anymore? What an idiot... There goes all her hard work...

Coming to the conclusion that nothing would happen, even after waiting for what seemed like hours, the mismagius decided it would be best to just leave, never looking at this place again. She left the flute on the ground, right where it was, and walked to the edge of the platform, bracing herself for a jump. Being a magical being was great at many times, if only it wasn't tied to such a tragic past. It allowed her to do so many things she was sure a human couldn't dream of, like jumping off a mountain and landing unscathed, and that's what she did.

1... 2... 3... Jump

Callista drags herself out of the water, landing on the glassy sand with a wet, dull thud, rolling onto her back. She stares blankly at the ceiling above her, focusing on a particular splash of water she had caused, listening to the steady drip drip drip of the water as it fell back into her tank. She had only listened to the steady dripping of water for a few minutes, when her eyelids started drooping. She curled up near the water, and using her clothes as a pillow, she fell asleep.

Callista woke up to a searing pain in the head, where she found herself strapped to the lab table, the Milotic beside her. The lights were blinding her and all she could see was white. Her arms and legs were strapped to some sort of strange device, needles of various sizes sticking into her veins. The scientist pressed a button on the machine, sending it whirring into action. A strange fluid was pumped into her, and she felt more pain than she had ever experienced before. Her head felt like there were sledgehammers slamming against it, and she felt like her heart had been pierced. But that was nothing compared to what the Milotic seemed to be facing. Oddly enough, it seemed to share its thoughts with her. It was as if she saw the Milotic writhing in pain, it’s body contorting into strange shapes, letting out squeals of agony. And then it was gone. The scientist seemed to be satisfied, giving Callista no time to rest before dumping her into a tank. Her head hurt, she couldn’t process anything. It was like a dead weight, dragging her under. With whatever remaining energy she had left, she swam for the surface, bursting through and gasping for air. Instead of the relief she expected, however, she experienced a searing pain and an extreme need for water. She dived back down into the water, realising how comfortable it suddenly became. She was exhausted by this point, and curled up at the very bottom of the tank to rest


After a while, Callista woke up, and realised it was just a dream. Well, at least she now had a clear memory of it now. Brilliant. Callista shivers, changes into her clothes and heads out of the lab. She needed some fresh air. She takes a seat on the smoothest piece of rock she could find outside, closing her eyes and breathing deeply. Her mind was still running wild with memories. Most were blurry and shard-like. It was as if her memories of the past was a piece of glass, which someone had smashed repeatedly into tiny pieces, near-unrecoverable.


Once calm enough, she headed back in. She ran her fingers through her ribbon-like hair, her tail swishing gently behind her. She felt a pang for that Milotic after relieving that memory…the poor creature….how long had it suffered for? Great….she was stressed again. She grumbled to herself, and swallow dived back into the water

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