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>>37331015

Hesper has taken to yelling again; you're dazed, confused. Most of your attention is on that fucking gun he's holding. It's still pointed at you, still pointed at Grim.

"GRIM!" you think, wishing you could move your head around to check on him. He should be fine. Phoenicia too. You hope. Nothing should have happened to them... Testament wouldn't have harmed them, right? Hesper's trapped, right?

"Shit," your mind is racing, any attempts at tamping your panic down are failing. "Shitshitshit. Need to get out of here. Fuck. What is this...?"

>Grey, you need to focus. He's saying something important.
>Focus on getting out of here.
>Try to ask Testament something mentally? (What?)
>Roll 1d100 to regain composure.

>>37331036
>Grey, you need to focus. He's saying something important.

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>>37331097
Morning, Anon. Could I have a roll, please?

Rolled 52 (1d100)

>>37331132
It is 1113

>>37331191
Well not like I could say "Good afternoon, eh?"
Fine.

>Good day, anon.

Looks like you're steering the ship all on your lonesome. Hope you're ready to navigate through the choppy waters of some PLOT!

>writin'

Rolled 89, 64, 52, 54 = 259 (4d100)

>>37331218
Rollin' real quick....

Rolled 95 (1d100)

>>37331036
>Grey, you need to focus. He's saying something important

>>37331218
>navigate through the choppy waters of some PLOT!
I am scared.

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Rolled 29, 62, 27, 69 = 187 (4d100)

>>37331246
>Sudddenly, Anon!
MFW

>95
Niiiice.

>>37331246
Whew, sorry if that messed up your writing...

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>>37331255

"Focus, focus..." You swallow (which is actually quite difficult now) away your anxiety and focus on Hesper. You didn't notice it, but his words had been silent for some time. No, more likely you have just been disallowed from hearing him, the air around your ears stilled.

Indeed, you swallow once more and feel a familiar "stuffiness" of your ears being blocked. Testament's work once again, no doubt. He must not want you to hear something that Hesper is saying: what could it be, though? Why? You focus on his lips and try to make out whatever you can...

>95

"-----, ---- --, -----! ---. - --- - - -----...!" No dice on hearing him, but you think you make out "create," "destiny," "against our wills," and "use him." All loaded words, no doubt. In your brief time together you've picked up on Hesper's flair for the dramatic; Histrionic Hesper, indeed...

Then you watch as Testament flickers. There's no face to read and the featureless figure seems wholly unflappable, but there's definitely a new tension to his stance. He flickers again, and then again: faster and faster it happens. The various shards are splitting up, now, looking about and gesticulating wildly. One gestures towards you, another towards Hesper.

You both fly back off the pillar. You watch as Testament disappears, your senses and motion coming back to you mid-air. You are falling. You can hear Hesper once more.

"YES! YES, you piece of shit shard! The technology worked!" He laughs maniacally. You turn and look towards the floor plummeting towards you. "You will NO LONGER interfere, you damned ARC!"

>Hit emergency recall on Phoenicia and Grim.
>Give up. Fall.
>Try to grab onto the outside of the pillar...?
>Your descent seems slightly slowed, but still dangerous if not life-threatening.
>If you need information about your team, their abilities, or your surroundings then please ask.
>Roll 1d100

Rolled 28 (1d100)

>>37331334
>Try to grab onto the outside of the pillar...?
God DAMNIT we are CLIMBING THAT PILLAR

Rolled 31 (1d100)

>>37331334
>Try to grab onto the outside of the pillar...?

>>37331255
IT WAS ME DIO !

>>37331334

>Some mood music: http://listenonrepeat.com/?v=DAJ1orZ44f0#Fury_OST_-_Norman_by_Steven_Price_(Extended_Version)

You shift your way: hips roll, arms twist and splay out. Your vision rolls over, washing over the floor, the ceiling, the pillar; floor, ceiling, pillar. You're tumbling to the earth, seconds to spare.

You reach out. The rolling slowed, you reach out for the pillar. If you can get some sort of hand-hold, slow yourself down; maybe, maybe you can survive this...!

You hear Phoenicia scream from above. Out of the corner of your vision you see that she has dived down after you, but it won't be enough: she won't be able to reach you in time, and even then she couldn't carry you or offer sufficient drag.

"... Shit." Your hands dart out towards the smooth surface, hoping to catch an edge. A fault in the pillar. A crack. Anything.

The gloves of your fabric meet the pillar. Your already burning arms tug at a bit of stonework, hoping to catch yourself; all you accomplish is a horrible, whiplash-like motion. You tumble end over end again, your head and body cracking into the side of the stone; you feel a dull, burning pain and a wetness on the back of your head now.

You are falling. You cannot escape this fate. You are falling. "This is it..."

The ground approaches.

Your last thoughts are of...

>Dani
>Mittens
>Your mother
>Your life. You failed to accomplish so much.
>Your life. It was filled with such happiness these past few days.

>>37331522
>Your life. It was filled with such happiness these past few days.

>>37331522
>Dani

>>37331522

You think on Dani. You try to urge a smile to your face; one last smile. You don't know if you'll survive this fall. Thank god, Mittens and your team will be alright, right?

Shit. Hesper.

You quickly hit the "LOCK" button on your deck, pressing your thumbprint to the scanner, before running your fingertips over the specially-colored ball that Erwin got you. The one that holds Mittens. Your dear starter, your partner. Your friend.

"Here it comes..." You're almost on the floor, now. You brace for impact, screwing your eyes shut and tensing every muscle and bone in your body. You scream out:

"FU-CK!"

There is a flash. You land: there is no pain, though. You land on... Some sort of inflated cushion? It heaves around you, the sides coming up and around as you sink into the center. You're alive.

>"I'M ALIVE!"
>Just quietly pray.
>Cry in happiness.
>Fuck it. No time now. Where's Hesper?
>Recall Grim or Phoenicia (Where is Grim...?)
>WRITE-IN!

>>37331737
>"I'M ALIVE!"
>Fuck it. No time now. Where's Hesper?
>Recall Grim or Phoenicia (Where is Grim...?)

>>37331737
>Fuck it. No time now. Where's Hesper?
We can celebrate our continued existance after the bad guy is dealt with.

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>>37331737

You fumble and roll about in the inflated cushion; eventually, you scramble out and get to your feet. You click off the LOCK on your deck and then hit the emergency recall; there are two twin bright flashes accompanied by a heavy depletion of your battery. The system gives you an audible alert a second later, telling you that Grim and Phoenicia have been retrieved remotely.

You look about, searching visually for Hesper. Maybe he survived, maybe he didn't. You're not sure exactly what someone like him could take, physically: are his organs reinforced? His bones? His head? Regardless, you gotta seal the deal or something. He could kill you. Damn it, why did this happen at all...? What did he mean up there, what connection do you have to any of this? A voice breaks the silence, shattering it like an alto hammer on glass. The pieces fall around you as you freeze. They're behind you.

"Can't have you dying, can we now, Grey?"

You slowly turn and look. A tall, slim individual with a pale, shimmering mask gilded and stained with myriad colors. An eternal grin rests on that visage. It's eerie. They haven't made a move yet, simply resting with one hand on their chin and the other pointed towards the air-bag, container ball in hand.

They retrieve the air-bag. They laugh: a tinkling, jester-ish sound that ignites your nerves like match on alcohol.

"What's wrong? Not expecting this for your gym challenge?"

You have no idea of intent. No Pokemon to defend with.
>Talk it out. Stall them.
>Ask them who they are. They can't kill you, right? Or, at least, they don't seem to want to...
>Run for the exit.
>Draw out a Pokemon, quick as you can. (Who?)
>Write-in!

>>37331862
>Talk it out. Stall them.
Also find chainsaw-chan

>>37331862
>Draw out a Pokemon, quick as you can. (Who?)
>Mittens
>Ask her to confirm this person's intent discreetly
>Talk it out, stall them.

>>37331862

"N-n-no," your voice wavers, jumping about on your breath in time with the beating of your heart. You grit your teeth and blow a steady sigh through them. No time for nerves; no time for mistakes. "No, I wasn't expecting almost dying. Some sort of homicidal maniac," you reach for Mittens ball and tense your arm, "and having to climb some god-awful pillar. I hope I earned my badge!"

You snap off the container and release Mittens behind you. You tense, waiting for a response from this newcomer. Nothing other than a curious cock of their head.You mentally hiss at Mittens to read this person's mind and find out their intent. She gives a sharp "Yes yes, Trainer Grey!" and goes to work. The mask immediately starts to... shift?

It shifts in shape and hue, shimmering and moving until it comes to rest in a much more dainty smirk, now. The pale hues have now been replaced with vibrant shades of pink. The jester claps its hands, dancing back and forth on the balls of its feet. You're still not sure of gender, age, ... anything.

"Ooh, ooh! A kitty-cat, now do I spy? You are so cute you've caught my eye! And yet, alas, dig through my mind? That's very naughty, not very kind!" The jester waggles its finger about, punctuating the "not very kind." You consider being sick.

"What...?" You run a hand over your head, wincing once you meet the slight gash on the back.

Mittens comes back to you, presence light-stepped and concerned in your mind. You get the feeling that she wishes she could tend to your physical fatigue and wounds.

"I can't... I had trouble reading mind, Grey. No bad person, but... Like wall in mind. I can't get past it. Not sure what they want or who they are."

>To Mittens: It's okay. Thank you.
>To Mittens: Look for Hesper. Scary-robot-guy! Where is he?
>To Mittens: Try and read its mind again, Mittens!

>What the hell is going on?
>Who are you?
>Why the hell are you dancing? I just almost died!"
>Write-in!

>>37332077
>To Mittens: Look for Hesper. Scary-robot-guy! Where is he?
>What the hell is going on?

>>37332077
>To Mittens: It's okay. Thank you.
>To Mittens: Look for Hesper. Scary-robot-guy! Where is he?

>"So what do YOU want? And quit dancing like that, it's distracting!"

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>>37332077

The images, thoughts, and sounds of Hesper that currently poison your mind you share with Mittens. Communicating some of that shit does help your anxiety; at least now you're not shouldering the burden completely alone...

"I'll find this badbadman, TrainerGrey! I can't believe... This man try to hurt you, try kill you, try to kill our friends!" You've never felt such desperate, raw anger from Mittens before. The Espurr peels off from your mind, diverting her attentions towards finding Hesper...

"And you, who are you? What the hell is going on, here...?" More dancing, and you get the feeling another rhyme is coming on. "No! No more dancing, no more rhyming! Tell me why the hell you people are trying to kill me and my friends!"

The pink mask shifts once more; this time, it shifts to blue, taking on a somber hue and expression. "Me? My friend, there is a mistake. I've not tried to kill you. I saved you!"

Another shift, this time to a fierce, angry red. "The better, better, better question is, Trainer: WHY THE HELLY-HELL-HELL are you CAVORTING ABOUT in my GYM?!"

"You're gym...? What? You're Mashka, the gym leader?" The figure nods, arms crossed and steam, literal steam, coming from its ears.

"INDEEDY-DEEDY-DO! Now please EXIT, while I collect your little sword-wielding FRIEN-" That sentence is cut off to you by the sound of an explosive blow to the pillar behind you.

>cont.

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>>37332336

You snap your head around. It's Hesper, and he's just slammed his fist into the pillar; he's leaning on it and his left leg with one hand, blade held loosely to the side. He's bleeding in multiple locations and overall not looking too hot.

"You-MONGRELS! How DARE you search through my mind with that disgusting tool of a MONSTER!?" Another punch; chips of stone go flying. "I shall take pride and joy in killing EVERY LAST ONE of your filthy team, boy." You go to say something but Mashka beats you to the punch.

"Insanity is MY GAME, you asshole! And now you're in deep trouble! Now give back the things you stole and stop creating rubble!"

You grit your teeth, angrily sighing. Another rhyme? Really? An insane, rhyming clown behind you. A homicidal cyborg to the front. Awesome.

"This guy tricked me, Mashka! I was supposed to challenge the gym, and he pretended to be a Proctor!" You gesture quickly at Hesper while looking at the jester before looking back, body tensed in case Hesper pulls another gun.

You draw two more Pokeballs, and a moment later the Gym Leader has walked forward, coming to a stop next to you. His mask is black, now.

"No clue what's going on, and little time to wonder; just know, you fools, that destroying my gym was one. serious. blunder."

"I'm telling you, it's not my fault. I'm just a Sortie looking for a badge!"

"Quiet; we'll Sort this out later." The clown cups a hand to his mouth, imitating laughter.

"All aboard the crazy-train..." You sigh. "Just another day in my life."


>Fuck you, Hesper.
>Fuck you, Clown!
>Let's get some actions up in here. WRITE-IN! 10 minute voting period; this is important!

>>37332397
>mittens and shely play d
>grim and phoenicia attack
>no chainsaw shit; this guy is dangerous
is there anything in the gym we can use to trap him or whatever


we have this guy on the ropes; let's finish him

>>37332397
>Sigh some more. Why everything gotta be so difficult... You only wanted a goddamn gym badge!
>Draw chainsaw, primarily just to spook Hesper. Nothing like the crazy kid who climbed a tower pulling out a chainsaw to rattle ones nerves
>Release Scyther, keep him on intercept duty i in case Hesper tries to pull a fast one
>Get Mittens to moderately mess with his head in a sustained manner to keep him off his game
>Keep the rest of your mons away for now, battery life isn't so hot and controlling more than a couple gets confusing, especially if shit goes down and it turns out Hesper set us up the bomb and we gotta hightail it

Green here, anyone else having trouble with chat?

>>37332574
We can see you with no problem.

>writin'

>>37332574
Nope, we can see you trying to speak to us.

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>>37332496
Can I get some rolls, please?

Rolled 82 (1d100)

>>37332667
Ho boy!

Rolled 58 (1d100)

>>37332667

Rolled 49 (1d100)

>>37332667

Rolled 37 (1d100)

>>37332667
Welp, I'll roll again

>>37332953
>>37332955

Thanks.

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>>37332591

>82

No sense in getting any of your team killed; time to play it safe, but also really press the tacks to this sick-fuck's thumbs.

"Come on out, Grim!" You watch the flash recede, and Grim is out once more. He takes to an offensive posture but you keep him reeled in for now. "Hold back, Grim! Let him come to you!"

Hesper doesn't look keen on heading your direction anytime soon, though. He manages to stand up straight and draw his blade, yeah, but he's not making any forward movements. Mostly just posturing himself as intimidating.

"You fools; relying on beasts, on the very tools that lead ever-forwards towards humanity's destruction!" You see him moving his left thumb against something... What is it? "Your pride, your blind ignorance, your weakness...! I shall not let such things tears down humanity!"

"Time for talk is done." Mashka release two beasts: A large, blood-red and scarred Kingler and a Weavile. He sends them forward. "The battle is over," the Weavile slashes at Hesper. He barely manages to block it with an upwards parry. "I have already won." You watch the black-mask stand there, impassively, commanding his 'mons with tiny motions. They go to work on Hesper, the Weavile zoning him while the Kingler maneuvers around him, attempting to get within claw-range.

You draw out your chainsaw because it "sure as hell doesn't hurt having this out..." and otherwise watch, kneeling next to Mittens who stands at the ready to defend you.

>82

You can't help but notice, however, that he's... thumbing something in his right hand. "What is Hesper... up to? Mittens? What is he doing?"

"GET OUT OF MY," another slash from the Weavile; a chunk of metal and flesh is ripped from the man's shoulder. "HEAD! You DIRTY MONSTROSITY!"

"He's got a explode, Grey! Explode! Explode!"

Your reflexes spring into action.

>Reflect, now!
>Grim, cover us!
>Defend Mittens with your body!
>Write-in!

>>37333089
>Reflect, now!

>>37333089
>Reflect, now!
>Defend Mittens with your body!

>>37333111
This

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>>37333089

"REFLECT," you scream, your arms already going over your Espurr. "NOW!"

The purple shield goes up, Mittens's limited control of the forcefield straining to bend it around your prone forms. She desperately works to contort the shield, and you watch as the purple-tinged "light"begins to wrap around you.

The button is depressed.

An explosion rocks the room, emanating on the far wall. Then another, and another: another, another, another. A huge series of explosions that billow dust and wash heat over you. Thankfully, the bits of debris that might have struck you are deflected by the reflect, leaving ominous dents in its shape.

You look over: Mashka has drawn out a Slugma and is bathing the area around him in a "Shield" of fire, flash-sublimating anything that careens into it. Hesper has pulled himself over behind the pillar, but one of his legs was partially struck by a hunk of metal which now rises out of his form, anchoring him to the spot. He screams.

A whole section of wall and ceiling has been torn from the building; faint light pours in through the smoke. The clear sound of propellers "fhtwop fhtwop'ing" can be heard outside. You watch as ropes are lowered. It's like something out of a war film.

>Stand and fight
>Run
>Write-in!

>ROLL 1d100!

Rolled 76 (1d100)

>>37333238
>Stand and fight, for we are Grey
>Release Nereid and Sheldon
>use mist to fog the grounds from sight of the chopper
>use watergun to spray Hesper's face and keep him off balance and distracted (not to mention enraged)
>Rush in with Grim and your chainsaw, see if we can't bash a few bad guys today!

Rolled 55 (1d100)

>>37333238
>Stand and fight

Rolled 59 (1d100)

>>37333238
>Stand and fight
Purge the unclean who would dare harm our cat!

>>37333238
Is it too late for Mittens to go Psy-nami...

Rolled 3 (1d100)

>>37333668
It'll take out Maska & Co though

>>37333676
He seems to be un-mindwaffle-able...yeah that's it...

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>>37333238

>Post your epic battle music!

You decide to stand and fight. This is related to Hesper, and Hesper's after you. This is your mess, or something you'll have to deal with eventually... And you've never wanted to run from your obligations before. As the smoke and ash clears away you see Mashka has "retracted" most of his headdress, revealing a slender brow and face covered with rough, tan, and highly-scarred skin.

"The hell is going on, child? This is beyond hooligans: now THIS is simply wild!" The jester whistles before calling his Pokemon to his side, the Kingler having covered Hesper with a foam before moving back to its team's side. "Run along now, for this is mighty dangerous; a gym leader is mean to protect, that is why they elect us."

"No," you simply state with a shake of your head. Mittens is at your side, ready to erect a reflect again at any moment. Grim, thankfully, was able to dodge or deflect most of the projectiles that came at him. You release Nereid and Sheldon as well and prepare for battle.

Soldiers. Troops. Something; a whole force is climbing down the ropes and heading for you. A few have guns.

"Nereid: Silver Mist!" The weasel sets to covering the area in front of you with mist. You draw your team together and hold a defensive position behind the pillar. Mashka? He just strides right into things.

"Courage is commendable;" A whistle on a tiny flute and the Slugma sets to work spewing oil about the field, lining the killzone. "Soliders...? Flammable."

The first few soldiers come into range of the mist and liquid filling the area. A flamethrower is shot up; everything on the field ignites.

>3

Something in Nereid's mist must have reacted badly with the oil, and the building erupts in a fucking in.fer.no. Mashka starts cackling wildly; the poor souls stuck in the flames are screaming in agony.

>Roll to keep your composure. High DC.

Rolled 42 (1d100)

>>37333785
>Just stand and gaze dreamily at the blaze

Rolled 85 (1d100)

>>37333785

Rolled 16 (1d100)

>>37333785
Rev and smite!

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>>37333785

>85. Not quite high enough.

You let a container fall from your grasp; except, it's less "let" and more "you can't-pay-attention-to-anything-over-those-screams." They pierce your psyche, total agony as men are burned to the bone in the inferno. Your grip on Mittens's shoulder tightens; her gaze, too, is transfixed by the flames. You can't look away. You can't move.

"Holy shit." Something hits your shoulder.

Wait, what? Something hit your shoulder...? You look down and there it is: a tiny dart, just caught by the strap of your backpack. You yell out and grab it, ripping it from cloth but, thankfully, not flesh. You grab Mittens and dive back behind the pillar.

You take a few breaths, then. Nereid, Sheldon, and Grim are called back to your position. It's hard to tell if it's better having them out or more dangerous with these things flying around...

A couple soldiers have made their way around the flames. They're coming at you. Grim readies his blades, your other teammates moving to defend you.

>Give an order to two 'mons this round
>Say specific moves / strategies
>Roll 1d100

Rolled 29 (1d100)

>>37333943
>Give an order to two 'mons this round
Did we get Apollo back in the party when Herald asked if we wanted to check and change our team one more time?...
why aren't we using him...let him out get that speed goin' with a flame charge...

>>37333978
Apollo is not in the party.

Rolled 45 (1d100)

>>37333978
Party is as follows:
-Mittens
-Grim
-Nereid
-Sheldon
-Spriggan
-Phoenicia

Rolled 36 (1d100)

>>37333998
Ah, I retract my suggestion and then...

Have Nereid swift it up then...and Mittens confuse...

Rolled 46 (1d100)

>>37333943
>Mittens on the gravity, press those soliders to the floor and hopefully mess up the darts they're using
>Double water guns from Nereid and Shelly, let's get their vision obstructed with face shots
>Grim can swiftly take a long route and rush them from the side

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>>37334060
>>37334084
>>37333978
>>37334044
>mfw

>>37333943

>45+10 Mittens bonus = 55 (Mild success. Mild failure.)

"Nereid, swift!"

You watch as the hard-light projects shoot forth and hit two of the foes hard.

Grim runs out; he's raring to go and not looking for any direction. This is his element, but he's wild. Reckless. Two of the soldiers stop, leveling their firearms at him and unloading darts. He deflects most of them but is hit by quite a few. Still, it's not enough to stop an adrenaline-packed Scyther so quickly.

"Mittens, Gravity...!"

Grim reaches the soldiers just a second or two before the attack hits. His feet lash out as he leaps, barreling into two of them and proceeding to slash them into bloody ribbons until the increased weight hits him. He's slowed down, still on his legs but having to support himself. He's slipping with ever heartbeat, though, as the dart's toxin pumps through him.

There's one soldier not affected by the gravity. He yells something into his mic before leveling his gun at your group!

>REACT!
>2 Mons, 1 directive each
>5 Min vote
>Roll 1d100

Rolled 84 (1d100)

>>37334267
>Mitens, use reflect AROUND the soldier
Let's watch him shoot himself, right?
>Grim, get back here
See if we can't remove any darts before they take full effect

Rolled 48 (1d100)

>>37334267
>>37334298
Amazing...
Second...

Rolled 3 (1d100)

>>37334267
I'll back >>37334298

Rolled 5 (1d100)

>>37334540
My hopes and dreams, Anon, my hope and dreams...
At least I'm not the sole roller of crit fail 3's now

Rolled 41 (1d100)

>>37334540
Rolling to save the day!

Rolled 41 (1d100)

>>37334575
You do not pass go.
You do not collect 200.

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>>37334564
>3
>This is a bad day for Grey.
>I hope you guys like cliffhangers....!

>>37334667
Welp. this is gonna end greatly. I have no idea whats gone down but shit has seriously gone down. Cyborgs, killer clowns, and black op strike teams. All we need now is giant robots or ninjas.

What the fuck did you anons do to piss off the pokemon Illuminati!?

>>37334667
I'm going to call the thread here.

Participation is low and the next part is going to be big.

Question is, I can leave the quest here or at an even BIGGER cliff hanger a few posts away.

>End here
>KEEP GOING! PLEASE!

>>37331015

>all that gen 2
>mamoswine

>>37334856
>>KEEP GOING! PLEASE!
Gotta maximise the hanging

>>37334856
Uhhh...I'm good with either...I'm up right now so I'm partial too...
>KEEP GOING! PLEASE!

>>37334856
>End here

>>37334267

Gun. Fire. Your team. Must act.

Your thoughts are a blur; a hazy, adrenaline-fueled blur.

"Reflect!" You cry, but Mittens is a step ahead of you, already throwing up a purple shie- You watch with horror as a dart strikes her in the shoulder, lancing through the dimming flames and piercing through your friend's skin. It's enough to throw her off, and the reflect goes wide. The gun barks out as shots are fired at your group. A pain erupts in your chest.

You've been hit.

"Sheldon-! Nereid-! Mittens..!" You call out, trying to urge them away, save them, tell them to act...! Sheldon and Nereid manage to get shots off before being hit themselves. Mittens is fighting against it, on her knees and screaming out a growl as she brings the soldier to his knees. He screams; it feels so faint to your senses, but you know he screams. Mittens's voice fills your head.

"...Protect you, Train....erGrey. So sorry... Mittens Sorry."

You fall into blackness once more, but your final words to her are:

>Run
>It's okay.
>I'm sorry, Mittens.
>Write-in

>>37335081
>Run
If it's us telling Mittens and the team to run...
if not...
>I'm sorry, Mittens.

So first gym was pretty tough...

>>37335150
This

>>37335150
Backing it. If they're on the loose at least we have something to save our asses later right? These guys want us alive.

>>37335081
You mentally whisper it, then physically. Then you yell it, no, scream it out.

"RUN!"

You scream it again and again, even as you lose feeling in your hands. Even as you collapse to the floor, your head bouncing against the hard-rubber flooring. Even as you vision goes, you continue to scream. You just want them to escape, to be okay... Your teams. Your friends.

"RUN!"

The darkness is black, and it is lonely.

>>>>

When you awaken, it's not with a start. It's shaky, cold, and with a groggy headache that feels like a cottonee shoved itself up your nose...

"Fuchin' shid... bwur am I...?"

Everything in your body is sore and slow to respond.

You're in a dark room, the only light coming from a barred window high up on the far wall.

It looks like a prison cell. You've been captured.

"Fuck... Mittens!" Your eyes shoot up and awareness once more runs through you. "Mittensmittens-" you take to looking around, scrambling over the sparse furnishings of this cell. "MITTENS!"

You go on a rampage, kicking and punching the walls. Screaming. Begging for your team. They're probably dead...! Those fucks killed them!

"No. NONONONONO!"

>Cry
>Cry a lot
>Go quiet. Go silent. Let your anger simmer.

>>37335426
>Go quiet. Go silent. Let your anger simmer.
>Just pound on the wall with silent rage/anguish

>>37335426
>Go quiet. Go silent. Let your anger simmer.

Mittens is smarter than getting captured. She has likely gone to tell Dani...

>>37335426
>Go quiet. Go silent. Let your anger simmer.
>>37335470
Let's hope she was being paralyzed...

Damn I knew we should've taken Phoenicia back out...she could've flown for help...and maybe got Mittens outta there...

>>37335426
>Hold back tears. Get anger.
>When the time comes there will be a fucking shit up'enning of godly scale. there will be reckoning so mighty it makes legendary pokemon shit their proverbial pants.

You go quiet; no sense in losing your senses, in tiring yourself out. No point in giving these fucks something to gawk at.

"Fuck you bastards." You search around and, sure enough, there's a camera in plain view. You flick it off. "Fuck all of you. I'll make you all pay, you understand? Hurting my team," you get back on the bed and assume a meditative position.

"...Was the last wrong you'll ever make againt us."

>>>>

It's hours. How many? You're not sure. It's hours until anyone talks or reaches out to you. It's a voice over an intercom; sharp, barking, gruff.

"DINNER IS SERVED."

And that's it.

You wait for your meal in silence. Angry, contemplative silence.

>THREAD END
>END OF SEASON / ARC 1: JAY CITY!

Q&A Session, Go!
>Thank you, all of you, for playing along with me so far. I really, really appreciate it. If there's anything I can do to make this questing experience better for you guys just let me know.

>>37335622
Thanks for running, and god DAMN we still don't have that badge...

>>37335640
You earned it in spirit, surely.

>Was this a surprise for you guys?
>If so, was it a good surprise?

>>37335658
Slightly; yes.

>>37335622
Thanks again for running, Herald...
>Was this a surprise for you guys?
Uhhh yeah...didn't expect this much from the first gym...
>If so, was it a good surprise?
It was interesting...I'm definitely excited to see what you have in store for us...

can't wait for act 2. when is it, you fuck?

>>37335658
and I get here just as rocks fall everyone dies. Wonderful.

>>37335934
here to build on what I said, we're fucked. a child of impotent rage with lots of dead mons. Curse my work for making me miss this.

>>37336055
HAHAHAHAHA

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38 KB JPG

>>37335934
>>37336055

>>37336055
Already assuming they're dead? Shame on you.

File: iwannagetoffthisride.gif (2.05 MB, 202x175)

2.05 MB GIF

>>37335934
I get to post all my reaction images now, which is nice.

>>37335741
The end of this year. It's like TV seasons. SUCK ITTTTT!

>>37336094
Unless guild leader was the one to take us prisoner or you have a serious deus ex pokemon moment we're pretty fragged. Even then with the critfail we've lsot over half our collected mons.


>>37336148
Bullets are just as lethal to mons as they are to humans anon. Mittens might have escaped if she hid and Phoenician might have been able to GTFO. But the rest are dead if the soldiers are decent shot or had airship support.


Regardless I'll tune in next session. Just salty I couldn't help us not get rick rolled because I was at work.

>>37336202
You didn't get rick rolled, anon.
They weren't using bullets; this was explicitly stated.

I completely understand your concerns and fears, but players haven't wanted a high-mortality quest, and so I'm not doing one. If you guys want a darker quest then say so or go read one.

It'll be okay. Just ride through the struggle/the dark times. We'll all be stronger in the end.

>>37336296

We're totally getting a mech suit... right? A mech suit with retractable Chainsaws...

>>37336381
OUR SAW IS THE SAW THAT WILL FELL TITANS!

>>37336296
Sorry I missed that, I was rushing to catch up. I apologize for doubting you Herald. My prior experiences have made me plan for worst case scenario at all times. My DM is a fair but brutal S.O.B.

I will try and calm my anger at work and my slow reading speed so this will not happen again. See you next thread .

>>37336548
No worries, anon. I appreciate your honesty and coming back to respond at all.

See you next thread. Hope I can keep you engaged and enjoying it.

>>37336777
Out of curiosity did we have Voltergeist on our team?

>>37336798
See >>37334044

>>37336811
Damn there goes that plan. Ah well. Here's hoping Grey know Brick Break.

>>37336855
It's been said that most modern tech is rotom-proof anyway, and with a para-military organisation like this they'd definitely not overlook that.

>>37336878
True but if we got it free it'd still play hell with them and make a good distraction, incorporeals are hard to catch especially with darts.