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Pokemon: The Trio of Creation

Poké Earth

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a part of Pokemon: The Trio of Creation, by ceh12.

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ceh12 holds sovereignty over Poké Earth, giving them the ability to make limited changes.

1,282 readers have been here.

Setting

Default Location for Pokemon: The Trio of Creation
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Poké Earth is a part of Pokemon: The Trio of Creation.

10 Characters Here

Castron Jacruze [38] "I'm not evil, I'm not mean, just a bit... strange."
Jyo Chuzunya [37] A pearly-haired young woman, and the heiress of the Chuzunya estate.
Jay Kelavi [34] A fiercely loyal girl who will rarely give her opinion unless she is interested in the subject at hand.
D.J. Togeson [32] "I'm fine just being D.J., not some stupid princess."
Jack Robin [32] "When times get tough, you have to choose to keep going. You can't give up."
Ren Yamamotot [23] "And when they're finished weeping they will bow before their prince."
Tyler Phero [23] "I ain't saying I am a gold digger. Digging is hard work."
Coriander Lerraine [23] "The Trio of Creation has squandered their talents on petty squabbles and meaningless destruction. Enough is enough. If no one will control them, then I will."
Diana [2] "They need to work together, less the world fall"
Cyrus Wormwood [0] "But I'm tired..."

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Setting

3 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Tyler Phero Character Portrait: Ren Yamamotot Character Portrait: Coriander Lerraine
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There were times for leading, and times for following. Now was the time to stand back and watch from the shadows. When Yamamoto planted one foot forward and began his heated reply, Lerraine stepped backwards and made an admirable attempt to blend in with the wall behind her. She observed the proceedings with a detached interest, noting the way Noland's face twisted at Yamamoto's words—as if the man were trying (and failing) to hold back a sneer. Truly, Ren Yamamoto wasn't one for diplomacy.

"In any eventuality," he was saying, polishing his glasses in a highly condescending manner, "we are present now, and any further delay will be caused only by yourself."

Case in point, and note to self: keep Yamamoto away from future negotiation meetings. The real ones, in any case.

Phero's "don't mind the rookie" comment seemed to placate the Gambit member, if only a little. Nonetheless, it was a valiant effort. The Gambits were a volatile bunch.

"Phero," said Phero, gesturing towards himself. He then launched into introductions. "The rookie is Ren, and the woman, yes woman, is Coriander."

Hmm. Names to establish trust—good. Odd how he introduced himself by surname, while addressing her and Yamamoto by first name (which, to be honest, she was mildly surprised he even remembered). She'd have preferred it, of course, if he'd gone with some kind of alias or pseudonym, but in the end she supposed it mattered little. The General and Coriander were two very different people, after all.

"She is flat as a board up front, but she has a nice ass."

The offhand comment tore her from her thoughts quite abruptly. Lerraine gave Phero a startled glance, half-certain that she'd misheard his words.

A short, incredulous pause. Then, Ever started laughing uncontrollably.

'I can't believe he said that!' the Starmie said amidst gleeful cackles.

'...Ever. Kindly stop. You're giving me a headache.'

'Ha, admit it, Cor! You're embarrassed, you're embarrassed, you're—'

With an annoyed mental click, Lerraine shut off the telepathic link. She could still feel the Pokemon's bubbling amusement—empathy had no off switch—but for now, Ever had been effectively muted until the Starmie managed to get ahold of itself.

By the time Lerraine tuned back into the conversation, Noland had been offered a cigarette and Phero was already moving on.

"I can't believe that shit hole is still here," he commented, staring at the dubious-looking deli shop on the corner. "Do they still have Wednesday specials?"

Now that was interesting. She had known Phero was originally from Castelia, but his words…they implied familiarity. Like he knew this place on a fundamental level; like he'd spent a great deal of time frequenting the surrounding area. Probably not a time fondly remembered, if his Ninetales' displeasure was any indication. But despite any hypothetical distaste, it was good news for Team Catalyst. Harder to be taken by surprise on familiar territory, after all. Phero's knowledge would give them an edge—or at the very least, a bit of a safety net.

Noland got to his feet and accepted Phero's narcotic offering. "Ah," he said, eyeing the officer with beady eyes. "A bone-deep Castelia kid, ain't you?" He suddenly grinned, all teeth and no smile. "Well—Phero, was it? 'Fraid we won't have time for sampling the local…delicacies. Have some friends I gotta introduce to you, eh? Come on, then." Hands hidden leisurely in his pockets, Noland began making his way down the street. He moved in a shuffling, swaggering gait, his posture casual, his stride confident.

Lerraine paused slightly to allow her companions to go before her. Her eyes swept to and fro, surveying the area with a frown. Something about the atmosphere of the place bothered her. Reopening the mental link, she sent a telepathic message to her Pokemon.

'Ever, stay alert. And be on your guard.'

'Aye, aye, captain.'

Setting

3 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Tyler Phero Character Portrait: Ren Yamamotot Character Portrait: Coriander Lerraine
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Ren had to clench his jaw to keep from making any comment about the observation about Lerraine's ass, and made a mental note to have Phero burned alive if he ever got the chance. Luckily, the conversation moved on, while Ren fantasized about all the ways he wanted to murder the other Catalyst member, and he managed to keep from saying anything else to mess up the mission. Decidedly, Ren thought that he would in fact allow Phero to do the talking, since scum seemed to get along with scum quite nicely. Took one to know one, he supposed.

By the time they actually started moving, Ren had become mildly aware of the ache in his jaw that grew from the way he had been grinding his teeth. With a soft sigh though his nose, he forced himself to relax slightly, but still calculated just how much cash it would take to make sure the smokestack was never seen or heard from again.

He glanced back at Lerraine, before moving to follow Phero and Noland, noting that she seemed to be distracted by something. He guessed that she wasn't exactly comfortable in that location, though Ren could hardly blame her. Who wanted to be around the human garbage that frequented areas like this? He moved a little closer to her, remaining in the bodyguard position as they headed off, and turned his eyes back to the surrounding area. He would have preferred to simply burn the slums to the ground and save themselves a lot of trouble, but for now he tried to stay quiet.

For all his bravado and ego, there was some truth to it, and Ren moved like an armed man, confident in his own lethal nature. After all, he hadn't paid his way into Catalyst, though some, probably Phero, would say he had. Man he really hated that guy. On a scale from one to ten, he hoped Phero would die in a fire.

Setting

3 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Tyler Phero Character Portrait: Ren Yamamotot Character Portrait: Coriander Lerraine
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#, as written by Havek
Tyler Phero

Castelia City


Well, that went better then expected. Tyler mused as Nolan took the cigarette and told him to follow. Flipping the pack closed, he slid the cigarette pack into his left breast pocket. Although, Nolan's predatory smile was far from comforting; it remined him of those small time thugs who would 'visit' his mother and give him that same damn smile before patting his head, 'good lad,' At least, if this goes tits up; he could do something besides stand there and shiver.

Pushing himself to his feet, Tyler fell in step behind Nolan and besides Lily. The man's smile had put him on edge. That damn smile. This damn city. That damn deli. How he hated this fucking city and everyone in it, but the Deli had served it's purpose. It established a connection, a weak one, but enough of one to get him past the strip searching.

Bone-deep Castelia kid? A good phrase. This place never left; it sank into the bones like an infection that couldn't be cleaned; Tyler took another deep drag, filling his lungs full of the sweet nicotine using it to help calm his nerves. Being on guard was one thing, being so tense he did something stupid was another.

Tyler took this moment of quiet to glance back at his two team members who were keeping a good ways behind him. Wonderful, as if they got ambushed; he was on his own. Not that he expected much help from Ren, maybe the guy would roast some marshmallows over his burning corpse, but at least he would have been a meat shield to hide behind. As for Coriander, she didn't seem like the type to stand on stage anyways, but did his comment sting that much that she had to be that far back from him? It was a shame he had missed her reaction to his comment cause he wanted to see if that indifferent facade fell, but there would always be next time.

Glancing down to his side at his ninetails they shared a look before turning back ahead of them, occasionally scanning the spots where he had seen muggings take place, prepared for whatever was to come, which hopefully was just a normal negotiation followed by a quick victory. With those two content to keep their distance, it was just Tyler and Lily against the world... just like always.

Setting

3 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Tyler Phero Character Portrait: Ren Yamamotot Character Portrait: Coriander Lerraine
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Their journey wound through foot-worn paths and dilapidated alleys, past narrow streets and cramped shops. As they moved, the city seemed to transform—growing more crooked, more cluttered, more weary. The people here had quick eyes and slow movements, and the entire atmosphere seemed to sigh and sink in upon itself.

Castelia. There was something nostalgic about the place, something reminiscent of the streets back home at Nimbasa. Of the sister cities, Nimbasa was by far the prettier one, but it was a deceptive beauty. At their cores, the two cities were exactly the same.

Lerraine tilted her head upwards. At the moment, there was nothing but sheer expanse of flawless blue framed around a shining sun. Come night, the city lights would burst out and tinge the sky a brilliant gold. Gold, the color of money. Gold, so powerful that it blotted out the stars.

Estelle never did manage to stay in Castelia for more than a few days.

"Well, here we are."

Lerraine tore her gaze from the sky, only to see that Noland had stopped them in front of a rather pathetic-looking building. Cracked lines of blue pigment ran down the walls; dirt smeared the windows like streaks of paint; a puddle of highly questionable substance greeted them at the doorstep. At the base of the window hung a mold-crusted sign: CASTLING -OOKS

"Castling Books," Noland clarified. "B's rubbed out. Pro'lly should get ole Castling to fix the dang sign."

Indeed, the 'B' looked more like an 'R' now, given how the bottom half had faded away.

Noland jerked open the door to the bookstore, prompting a small bell on a string to sing out a weak jingle heralding their arrival. Adjacent to the entrance was a flat countertop; at the counter sat an old woman with silver hair.

"Castling Books," she warbled, peering at them through thick crescent glasses. "How may I help you?"

Noland propped an arm on the countertop. "Aye, Mrs. Castling. The place looks like a bird's nest."

"I prefer to think of it as my personal castle," Mrs. Castling said, continuing to look indifferent.

"I'd switch places with you, but I'm no king."

With those words, something in the atmosphere changed. Lerraine's brow furrowed slightly, registering the oddity but unsure what to make of it. Frowning, she replayed the conversation in her mind. Upon review, the words were stilted, the dialogue unnatural—a code, perhaps?

At the counter, Mrs. Castling had straightened and was examining them with a critical eye. "A street urchin and two brats," she said, her expression pinched and disapproving. "Is that one even old enough to drink?"

It was unclear if Castling was referring to Lerraine or Yamamoto, but given the way she was scowling at Ren, it was probably the latter.

"Castling, the works," Noland said, beginning to sound a tad impatient. "Fergit the purple-haired ponce."

Mrs. Castling sniffed. "Stay put and I'll be right with you," she said. Turning around, she made her way across a veritable obstacle course of books before heading toward the room in the back. After fiddling around with a lock, she entered the room and closed the door behind her.

A faint snap. Some whirring. Creaks and a squeak. Then silence.

To the right of the counter, something clicked open. There, hidden in shadow, was a small square entrance leading into the ground.

'A secret trapdoor!' Ever enthused. 'That's so—'

'Cliché?' Lerraine cut in dryly.

'Awesome,' the Starmie insisted.

"And down the rabbit hole we go," Noland chuckled. Then his smile turned sly, and his eyes swiveled toward Phero. "You, city boy. Think your foxy pet can make it through? Tight fit, I'd imagine. I s'ppose it could squeeze in…may-haps if you'd be willing to part with a few tails? The Chessmaster pays well, you know. You look like you could use some dough."

Lerraine listened with mild disgust. The man was trying to buy off the Ninetales. Probably for its fur and tails, which sold well on the black market. Honestly—it wasn't only distasteful, but also extraordinarily stupid, especially given the Pokemon's fierce loyalty and protectiveness. She'd only read about the creatures in passing, but even that was enough to understand that the only kind of man who willfully angered a Ninetales was a dead one.

Setting

3 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Tyler Phero Character Portrait: Ren Yamamotot Character Portrait: Coriander Lerraine
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Ren had managed to keep his mouth shut for the entire trip, despite his utter disgust for the dingier parts of the city. The poor disgusted him, with their lack of self-respect and general respect for the areas around them. They were filthy, crass, and revolting, not much better than animals living in their own filth. Night only served to throw a thin veil over the putrescence, gilding the garbage with amber diamonds of light. When Catalyst achieved its goals, Ren would see to it personally that places like this vanished.

Despite his revulsion toward the dregs of the city, Ren's real attention was on every movement, every face, every detail. He made sure to note side alleys and the nooks and crannies that hid in the shadows of the buildings around them. Sure, he's love to see Phero face down in his own blood, but not today. Today was a job, and that meant that Phero would have to live a little longer. He stuck close to Lerraine, figuring that if something was going to happen, the psychic would be first to know, after all, why else would they have sent her?

It wasn't too soon when they reached the wretched shack that tried to pass itself off as a bookstore, or as the sign seemed to read, thanks to the years of negligence, a 'rookstore'. "Castling Books," Noland pointed out, as if the three were too dumb to put two and two together,"B's rubbed out. Pro'lly should get ole Castling to fix the dang sign."

Ren made no comment, his attention elsewhere, as his eyes scanned for anything that looked suspect. He shot a glance toward Phero, as if confirming that the area seemed too good for an ambush, a rare look without utter loathing for the other man. They were lead inside, and what seemed to be a somewhat contrived conversation took place. Of course, the whole thing was a ruse, a code, he supposed, and the hag behind the counter started eying the three suspiciously. "Is that one even old enough to drink?" Ren met Mrs. Castling's gaze with his own, malevolent scowl. The staring contest was luckily cut short before Ren gave any thought to starting the fireworks early, and a secret passage was revealed.

Just great. If the three went in now, they would have their backs to the wall, and the Gambits would have every advantage.
Grudgingly, Ren had to admit it was a good plan on the Gambits' part.

Nolan seemed to try bargaining with Phero for, of all things, a few of the tails from the Ninetails. It seemed stupidly pointless to as such a thing, and Ren spoke up,"Let's stick to the business at hand, unless you would like to start offering some of your organs in trade. Just lead the way, fice." Ren never thought he'd be standing up for Phero, but he supposed that anyone who thought that something as elegant as a Ninetails was just a source of cash needed to be drawn and quartered.

Setting

3 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Tyler Phero Character Portrait: Ren Yamamotot Character Portrait: Coriander Lerraine
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#, as written by Havek
Tyler Phero

Castelia City


The further they walked the more familiar the surroundings became, and the more on edge he felt. Everywhere he looked he saw himself. The slow movements, the watchful eyes, the slippery hands, and the same dead look, but they weren't the same. Tyler wasn't like them, he wasn't. They had given up, part of them had been consumed by the pit that was Castelia. There was something in this city that hungered for the dreams and hopes of the people dwelling within it, and it was only more visible in the slums, but it was everywhere. No one escaped it's pull, but he would. Somehow, he would change. He wasn't like them, he wasn't broken like they were scurrying from shade to shade because it was all they knew.

Tyler stopped for just a moment to look at a small worn bench outside a rundown diner that was the spot he confessed to his first crush, and where he was crushed by his friends. It had happened years ago, but it felt like just yesterday that he had run crying into his mother's arms. He knew that those children suffered just as he did. Hunger, terrible parents, addiction... But he was patches. The one slightly worse then they and just looking at him made them feel a little better about their own lives; it was his place in life to make the sufferings of others just a slightly bit better at the cost of destroying his own.

Turning back to Nolan, Tyler resumed his walk flicking his almost spent cigarette into the streets, and in moments the cigarette was scooped up by a man who lifted the still burning cigarette into his mouth trying to get the last of the nicotine before it burned out. Tyler could picture the amount of needle marks that lined that man's body, but it wasn't his problem. Everyone had to fight for themselves, there were no heroes in this world, and that was the first lesson he had ever learned as a child.

CASTLING - OOKS, Tyler glanced at the sign then the rundown store, honestly, it wasn't surprising the Kings had evaded law enforcement for so long. So many old buildings littered Castelia that it was impossible to keep track on all of them, much less a watchful eye. How many times had he run past this very building and never notice it? Tyler chose to be silent and let Nolan lead them into the store as he really didn't have a joke for this. Well, if he stopped and thought about it he could make one, or most likely, in five minutes he would think of the single perfect joke he could have said at this moment, but that really didn't do him much good.

Keeping his suitcase held as naturally as he could, Tyler flashed the older woman a smile as her and Nolan shared words. Having worked as a freelance contractor on various jobs from smuggling to drug drops, it was obvious that this was a pass phrase, but depending on how well dug in they were, knowing the pass phrase was worthless. Tyler had seen a fair number of places that had certain pass phrases issued out to select members, so what worked for one would not work for another. For all their bluster, most successful gangs were smart.. If they weren't, they wouldn't be successful.

Street urchin. Those two words sent a shiver down Tyler's spine, it was one thing to be able to tell the others and how they were like him; it was something else to have someone point it out like that. Despite him wearing, reasonably, nice clothing, the same as Coriander's, she knew he was just a street rat.

Dressing up a rat doesn't stop it from being a rat.

Yes, someone had told his mother that when she begged for money. Just like bone-deep, it fit far too well for his liking. Honestly, he would rather be a brat then a urchin. Tyler glanced back at his two companions and couldn't help the small smirk, well, they did look like kids compared to the rest of them in the room. He wasn't sure how old Coriander was, but he was reasonably sure dragon boy hadn't gotten past 21. Tyler wasn't sure how old Coriander was, sometimes she appeared young and, almost, vulnerable, other times she seemed older then him. She would make a killing at carnivals.

Tyler shot his head around at the sound of a door being opened and had to not smile at that. How... God, what was the word for that? He tried to remember, but for the life of him he could not remember the word for something that is overused an unoriginal. Damn it, this would be one of those things he would remember after five minutes.

"You, city boy. Think your foxy pet can make it through? Tight fit, I'd imagine. I s'ppose it could squeeze in…may-haps if you'd be willing to part with a few tails? The Chessmaster pays well, you know. You look like you could use some dough."

Well that happened. It wasn't the first time someone had told him something similar. Tyler reached into his pocket for a cigarette to buy himself time to think of an answer, but stopped when he saw the fur on Lily's back bristle, and her golden eyes narrow. Instead he stretched out his hand and laid it on her head; well, he supposed if anyone had the right to be pissed it was her. Honestly, she made him pay when he skimped out on pokechow. The last time he had insulted her for being smelly, granted they had been traveling for days, she had somehow managed to unleash Rose from her pokeball just as he was in the shower. Having the water suddenly freeze was just cruel. He wans't sure he would survive crossing her like that. That, and he couldn't do it. Not to lily.

"Well," Tyler started before Ren cut in, and he expected some kind of snide comment, but instead he tried to move them along, granted he did it in his normal dragon-like fashion, with not tact, but well, that was something. Of course, Tyler also assumed he had some sort of agenda, but Lily seemed to calm down a little from dragon boys support which was a good thing. When a ninetails lost their temper, it was best not to be in a mile radius.

But, Tyler had a job to do, and while he appreciated Ren standing up for his friend, and turning Nolan hostile so close to their goal was not their best option, so Tyler looked down at Lily who met his eyes with her bright golden ones, "Well..." Tyler said continuing where he left off, "You are a little fat."

Those golden eyes narrowed dangerously once again, "Nothing wrong with that," Tyler said, "I like chunky." Yes, he was going to pay for that sometime, but he didn't really want to die right now.

"Sorry, while I may need the money," Tyler said looking back at Nolan, "Some things just don't have a price." Well, one thing didn't, and she was that one.

Setting

5 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jack Robin Character Portrait: Jay Kelavi Character Portrait: Jyo Chuzunya Character Portrait: D.J. Togeson Character Portrait: Castron Jacruze
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#, as written by ceh12
Castron Jacruze


Castron had his hands in his pockets, ignoring the others as they looked around. He sensed the presence, but he just chose to ignore the blatant stupidity of his colleagues as they looked around aimlessly. He picked up Pillow again as she bleated at his feet at an attempt to gain his affection. She was extremely spoiled but Castron didn't mind spoiling his baby girl. He scratched bedhind her tiny ears and whistled. "Come on gang, let's get to it." he said walking into the forest, his posse of dark colored pokemon...and Pirate following him into the foliage that was the high forest.

His mind started to wander a bit, the fellow people he was traveling with flooded his mind "Odd people, looks like me and princess are traveling with a rich girl, a monk, and some...really just strange girl." he thought silently before Pillow nibbled on the opal necklace, causing his eyes to tear up a little, whining silently to himself as he mutter "momma" he said slowly down a bit, petting his pokemon and keeping his head down. Necro rolled his eye as he saw his trainer crying, even so silently the two were connected on from his special connection with the darkness. The ghost never understood what the fuss was between Castron and his mother, mostly because of the pokemon being an orphan his entire life.

He grabbed Castron's coat off of him, causing the boy to partially snap out of his trance as he wiped his eyes and put Pillow in his left arm. "T-Thank you my friend, it's a bit humid here." he said now looking almost horrific, his body so thin as to the point where his ribs could partially be seen through the striped shirt underneath. "We need to get out of here as soon as possible." he said not even turning back, walking a bit easier as Necro slung the coat over his massive shoulder.

Setting

5 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jack Robin Character Portrait: Jay Kelavi Character Portrait: Jyo Chuzunya Character Portrait: D.J. Togeson Character Portrait: Castron Jacruze
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Jyo Chuzunya

Mikki the garchomp had seemed incredibly amused at the shenanigans of her new friends, dancing about and flattening the local flora as they went. However, fun time ended quickly when Dancer was picked up and they were told to head back. This didn't seem to dampen the garchomp's spirits at all, and in fact, she snickered to the Mr. Mime.

Back on the beach, Jyo shook her head slightly at Ricardo,"Its nothing. I probably heard a bird pokemon's call or something."

Jyo rolled her eyes openly at Castron's refusal to wait for the scouting pokemon to return, because the ones that had returned could hardly be counted as scouting. Maybe he didn't care that much for his own team, but the rich girl wasn't going anywhere without her loyal bodyguard. She stepped out into the water and put her fingers into her mouth in order to produce a sharp, loud whistle. An instant later, all four water types returned, rushing back to their trainer's call, as if expecting an emergency,"Sorry to make you worry, our fearless leader wants to head inland, and I don't want to be caught unarmed."

Zeik ordered the other three to their pokeballs, though they only listened when Jyo called them back. She allowed the wigglytuff and the garchomp to remain free as well, since the two had been in their balls for most of the journey. Jyo was about to make an annoyed comment to Castron about not waiting for her pokemon, when she saw his frail body, no longer concealed by his jacket. She fell quiet then, and instead followed along silently. She knew that there was suffering in the world, and she had done her best to help others, but she didn't have the ability to help everyone. Castron was proof of that. She definitely would be inviting them all to her home after this. No ifs ands or buts.

Setting

3 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Tyler Phero Character Portrait: Ren Yamamotot Character Portrait: Coriander Lerraine
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Phero had handled the situation reasonably well, considering. And Yamamoto's support was a welcome surprise. Perhaps this mission wouldn't be as much of a headache as Lerraine had been anticipating.

"Some things just don't have a price," Phero concluded, and indeed, truer words had never been spoken.

"Well, that's too bad," Noland said—and though he said the words with a casual shrug, there was something troubling about the way his expression shifted. How his eyes slanted, sharp and critical; how the corner of his mouth stretched in a manner that suggested…disapproval? Disappointment? Bah. It was times like these that Lerraine wished her empathy with Pokemon extended toward human beings. How much easier life would be then, without all this constant, paranoia-fueled examination of other people's motives.

They descended through the trapdoor and into the ground, Noland leading the way—an implicit compromise on his part, as it was clear that none of the Catalyst members wished to go in first and, in doing so, expose their backs. The passage was cramped and unimpressive, lit with small electric bulbs that ran along the walls on bundles of string. The weak light painted the floor and walls in long shadows, throwing every feature of the passage in stark relief. Patches of darkness littered the tunnel, doing nothing to alleviate the prospect of a sudden ambush.

Something tugged at Lerraine's mind—a mental itch. Something that nagged at her brain, something that felt highly uncomfortable. As the company ventured deeper into the tunnel, the discomfort seemed to only intensify—crawling, throbbing, scratching—

[help]

For a split second, her step faltered. Then her calm walking pace resumed.

[pain]

Lerraine prodded at Ever with her mind. 'Ever, can you feel that?'

'…Yeah. Yeah, I can.'

'What do you think…'

'Hang on.' The Starmie's central gem began to give off a slight glow, a psychosomatic response to high levels of psychic activity. The flashing colors were barely perceptible, but Lerraine covered a hand over her pocket anyway. No need to alert anyone of Ever's presence.

Distress. Distress, distress, horror, distress. Lerraine clenched a fist, trying not to react to the waves of agitation pouring off of the tiny Starmie.

'What do you see, Ever?'

'I…I see—'

[fear] [hurt] [rage]

It was at this point that Ever switched from words to images, and then Lerraine saw it too. It was hard to comprehend at first, since the Starmie didn't see the world the same way that humans did, but after a bit of mental sifting, Lerraine understood.

Pokémon trafficking. Lerraine regarded Ever's images gravely—while she wasn't particularly happy about the development, she wasn't exactly surprised, either. She had a feeling of something similar since Noland's offhand comment about Phero's Ninetales.

'Ever, calm down.' Because, yes, it was upsetting, but it wasn't like it was anything they hadn't seen before.

'We have to help,' Ever urged, and Lerraine marveled at the Starmie's ineffable sense of idealism. Maybe, given a little more time and planning, she could work something out—goodness knew she didn't approve of this kind of business—but it was unrealistic, unpractical. Too many unknowns, too much risk. Too little time.

'Ever, that's not what we came here to do. We aren't superheroes. You know that.'

Ever was silent for a while. The pulsing colors had stopped. Lerraine kept her gaze fixed on the back of Noland's head, which, underneath his cap, was starting to bald.

Then, in an uncharacteristically soft voice, Ever spoke up: 'Gene would have wanted to help.'

Lerraine's eyes narrowed. Her gait grew somewhat rigid; her mouth tightened.

Damn that Starmie.

(She supposed she could twist the situation to her advantage. If she played her cards right. Strategy, tactics. It didn't have to be impulsive or sentimental.)

(Who was she fooling?)

Several quick, telepathic instructions later, and the tiny black band on her shoe had twisted off and was quietly scuttling away, belly to the ground. She wasn't sure if her companions had noticed the transformed Ditto, but if they possessed any sort of competence at all they would keep quiet about it. Still, it couldn't hurt to be safe. She shot them each a quick, meaningful glance and a brief hand signal before refocussing on Noland, who was going on about some gritty heist he'd pulled back in the day. The man certainly liked to talk.

Following in Nyx's wake was a tiny speck of movement—Ever, the already diminutive Starmie, under a Minimize technique. The two Pokémon were well-versed in infiltration; they should be more than enough for this kind of work.

'Bye, Cory!' Ever crooned in parting. 'I love you!'

Lerraine tried not to scowl. Manipulative brat.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Tyler Phero Character Portrait: Ren Yamamotot Character Portrait: Coriander Lerraine
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Ren hated everything about this situation. He hated the woman at the desk and her smug mannerisms, he hated their guide and his pathetic greed. He wanted to burn the place down on the spot, and to storm the tunnel only as an afterthought. He kept his seething rage under wraps, however, coming off as only mildly annoyed, which was his norm anyhow. He made a mental note to kill that woman on the way out, no matter how the mission went.

They descended through the trapdoor and into the ground, Noland leading the way—and Ren would have it no other way, as there was no chance that the three would let such a rat of a man be at their backs. Ren made sure to go last, however, to cover the rest of the team, including the ninetails that he had been so quick to defend. The passage was restricted and insignificant, lit with dingy electric bulbs that cast a weak light that Ren did his best to make the most of. He remained silent for this part of the trip, as he made sure to keep his senses sharp for any sign of ambush, though, he had to admit that the tight tunnel would make it somewhat difficult for him to use the most of his firepower. In closed quarters like these, he had only two that would be able fight properly, though he figured his best bet would be to call Layla. In an area this tight, the Altaria's voice would be deadly.

Ren noticed that ahead of them, Lerraine's step faltered. It was only for a split second, but she clenched a fist, and moments later her gait grew somewhat rigid. Ren's own movements became slightly less relaxed in turn, as he tried to guess the source of the psychic's distress. Perhaps the Gambits were involved in brutal activities, such as selling slowpoke tails, or, he supposed, ninetails tails. He would enjoy destroying this place and the garbage in it.

Ren had to snap himself from the momentary fantasy as Lerraine gave a small hand signal and a glance, and would have missed the tiny creatures sneaking away if not for that. Now was not the time to be daydreaming about delivering justice. Now was the time to keep his mind on the mission.

"How much further is it, anyways?" With any luck any chance of the duo being spotted would be destroyed by Ren acting the part of the spoiled rich kid. Of course he was spoiled, rich, and pretty young, but that was beside the point.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Tyler Phero Character Portrait: Ren Yamamotot Character Portrait: Coriander Lerraine
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#, as written by Havek
Tyler Phero

Castelia City


That look, disappointment. Tyler had seen it enough growing up to recognize it, but disappointment at what? Did he fail some sort of test or was Nolan simply displeased that they couldn't reach a deal. Either way, after that little fiasco, he now had to try and repair and bridges that could be damaged as, out of the three of them, it seemed he was the only one that was even attempting to do the mission. Enter under the disguise of diplomacy then destroy them, but the constant fear of being ambushed was a bit of a mood killer especially considering how dark the tunnel was. He wasn't too worried at the moment as with his ninetails in front of him, one Fire Blast would clear out everything. They would just have to beware of a back draft.

In hindsight, letting out Rose would have been a large help as she could have phased through the walls and scouted out the building, but then again, he wasn't sure he could trust her to not do something. Freeze their pipes, cause deadly slips above stairs, freeze their lips around whatever they were drinking at the time, which would be a little funny, but it would alert them to the fact that they had an unpleasant guest. Tyler really needed to work on discipline in the ranks. His pokemon were either mocking him, trying to prank him, bite him, or worse, trying to eat everything in sight, him included. His own little dysfunctional family.

Glancing back for what felt like the hundredth time since they left the HQ, Tyler barely saw the little handsigns Coriander was throwing out, really? If he hadn't turned around at just the right time, he would have missed it. They really needed to work on that one, maybe tap him on the shoulder? Kick him in the shin? Anything? Glancing down, he spotted the two little pokemon scamper off and had to fight a cringe. That could go bad fast. Very fast, but if it went to hell, which it usually did, then it could turn out to their advantage, and he would have to trust Coriander valued her life as much as Tyler did his own.

Tyler was snapped back to attention when Nolan dived into a story of his old heist down at the docks, and Tyler eagerly jumped in pointing out tidbits about the area he was talking about, asking questions when prompted, trying his best to return the atmosphere they had before.

"So, what did that prostitute say next?" Tyler asked, although he had a feeling he knew what happened and really didn't want to know, but the question was cut off when Ren asked the question Tyler had been dying to ask. When the hell, were these tunnels going to end? Still he wished the guy would have just listened to Tyler in the first place and not spoken. Better to be thought a fool then speak and remove all doubt, or so some over-weight, pompous philosopher said.

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Character Portrait: Tyler Phero Character Portrait: Ren Yamamotot Character Portrait: Coriander Lerraine
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Ever followed the transformed Ditto with great haste, hurriedly sending Nyx telepathic images and instructions as they went. A rough layout of the base unfolded in the Ever's mind—its "mind's eye," as it was. Human beings were such visually-oriented creatures—they often forgot that not everyone perceived their environment in the same way, that human vision was in actuality so very limited.

'Left,' the Starmie projected. Nyx quickly swerved to the left, dodging the line of sight of a small, embedded security camera. 'More left. Now keep straight. Left again. Right.'

Together they navigated through the base's security measures, weaving their way past cameras, tripwires, sensors, guards. There were a few times when Nyx nearly paused to prank a passing officer or two, but Ever managed to keep the Ditto under control. It helped that Coriander dropped in on their conversations once or twice to basically yell at them for "messing around."

A metal door, painted with a soft sheen in the weak light. The two Pokémon paused. After a brief mental exchange, they scuttled up the side of the wall and perched in a blind spot just above the frame.

'Wait for it…' Ever murmured. Nyx—still a tiny black blob—wobbled a bit in acknowledgement.

The door slid open, and a man in a Gambit uniform emerged. Secure in their inconspicuous size, Ever and Nyx slipped through the closing gap without notice. A resounding thud echoed down the corridors as the door shut. They were in.

Cages. Rows and rows of cages. The electric kind, from the look of them—the ones that shocked anything that touched the cage walls. They lined the room in towering stacks, each featuring Pokémon in varying degrees of tattered health. It was like an ugly, twisted kind of gallery, the way everything was showcased to the bare bones. Stark and raw.

Familiar pink bloomed in the smudge of black, and Nyx was back in its regular form. The Ditto stared at its surroundings with uncharacteristic grimness, the customary ever-present smile on its face conspicuously absent.

Ever drifted closer. 'You okay there, Nyx?'

Nyx continued to stare. 'Yeah. I wasn't…I mean, I didn't expect…' It frowned, and then shook itself before once again facing Ever. And then, like flipping a switch, the usual mischievous smile was back on its face. 'It's gonna be real fun blowing this place up,' Nyx said happily. 'Alrighty, boss, what's next?'

Ever headed toward a second door at the end of the room. It was smaller, thinner, and a lot more unassuming than the thick heavyset metal one they'd passed earlier. 'This way. And ditch the green, will you? You're too visible right now.'

'Pink,' Nyx corrected, following Ever and transforming as they went. 'I'm pink, my sightless friend.'

'Whatever.'



There were a surprisingly small amount of people manning the control room. Not that either Ever or Nyx were complaining.

In one swift movement, the Starmie un-Minimized and launched itself forward, hitting the first Gambit point-blank with a Confuse Ray. She promptly collapsed to the ground, spouting gibberish. Alarmed, her companion gave a start and reached over for a communication device; Ever immediately whirled around and downed him as well. Nyx gave Ever a grin before trundling over to search the officers' pockets. On the ground, the female Gambit began to laugh shrilly in between unintelligible jabberings. Her male partner was flailing under his chair in odd, jerky motions.

'Hey, Nyx,' said Ever, 'do your thing, will you?'

'One moment,' Nyx giggled. The Ditto had found a black felt-tip marker and was gleefully giving the babbling woman a mustache. Classic "angry Jigglypuff" style.

'Oy, we don't exactly have a lot of time here,' Ever prodded, and then sighed dramatically. 'Dammit, Nyx, why is it that being with you always brings out the stick-in-the-mud in me? Seriously. You're, like, turning me into Coriander the Second.'

Nyx pouted and blew a raspberry. 'You just can't handle my awesomeness,' the Ditto said mock-pompously, before finishing the mustache with a weird-looking flourish. The woman now vaguely resembled something out of a horror film. 'Right, then. Stand back—'

Nyx stretched and twisted, and an instant later a perfect copy of their teammate, Percieve, stood in its place. Floating over to the Gambit officers, the pseudo-Musharna tilted its head, allowing tendrils of dream-mist to waft towards them. Hypnosis.

Seconds later, the Gambits were completely asleep.

'Good,' Ever said approvingly. 'Now, these computers have access to the entire power grid and more; Transform into a Porygon, and then we can hack into—'

'I can't do that.'

'…Huh?'

'I've never seen a Porygon before. Can't Transform into something I haven't recorded.'

Ever sputtered. 'You—but I thought—the White Forest Incident—?'

Nyx-in-Percy-form blinked. 'I got knocked out early, remember?'

Silence.

Ever's arms drooped. '…Drat. Well, okay. Plan B, then. Which electric types d'you have in your arsenal?'

Nyx's grin on Percy's face was a deeply disturbing image that ought to never, ever happen again. 'Electric, huh? Now we're talking.'



Lerraine half-listened as Phero began to ask Noland a question, only to be abruptly interrupted by their third teammate.

"How much further is it, anyways?" came Yamamoto's voice. Loud. Grating. Overly obnoxious. Noland made a great show of rolling his eyes—and as a result completely missed any sign of the tiny, departing Pokémon. Lerraine almost smiled. A brat though he may be, Ren Yamamoto was also surprisingly perceptive at times. Phero was looking pretty annoyed, though—it was pretty apparent that any semblance of teamwork had dipped back down to nonexistent levels. Ah, well. Couldn't win everything.

Noland coughed irritably. "Eh, don't get yer knickers in a twist, princess. Meeting room's 'round the corner, see—"

The tunnel curved at a slight bend to the right, and there it was—a wide, squat, rectangular entrance. Noland went over and tapped something into a small metal keypad; a hiss, and the entrance gave way. Bright light poured in from the interior; it seemed that the meeting room was both spacious and well-lit, and—as Lerraine's eyes adjusted—possessed an odd dichotomy of cave-like structure and modern furnishing. The floor, walls and ceiling was comprised of a sheer expanse of bedrock; meanwhile, the center of the conference room boasted a large, smooth table, complete with accompanying decorative plants and a glossy, checkerboard design. Gambit officers flanked the table, both motionless and expressionless. At the far head of the table was a smartly-dressed man with a tinted glasses and checkerboard gloves. The Chessmaster, most likely.

Now, this was all very nice, but there was something decidedly odd about the entire setup—the situation just didn't feel right. Granted, they hadn't exactly been attacked yet, and no Pokémon were present on the Gambits' side. But there were far too many people, much more than necessary for a negotiation like this…

"Members of the esteemed Team Catalyst," proclaimed the man at the head of the table as he rose grandly from his seat. "It is my honor to greet you here today as the leader of the King's Gambit. Welcome, my friends, and do take a seat…"

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Character Portrait: Tyler Phero Character Portrait: Ren Yamamotot Character Portrait: Coriander Lerraine
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Everything seemed to work exactly as planned, since everyone ahead of him seemed exasperated in one way or another. Well, other than Lerraine, who remained just as unreadable as when they had first met. That was fine with him, however, as he settled back into silence, ignoring the 'princess' comment. He'd just mentally note it as another of Noland's sins.

Finally, they had arrived, and Ren was quick to note that escaping from such a deep facility would be quite a challenge, possibly part of what Lerraine had been trying to do something about by sending her duo out. Ren's eyes swept over the room with a neutral expression of distaste, particularly noting the small army amassed for the meeting. On the bight side, the group meant that things had gone exactly as expected, and they were surrounded. The young man didn't fully disregard the guy in the checkered get-up, nodding graciously in greeting, but his main attention was elsewhere.

To switch the king with a rook was a basic move in chess, and anyone who had a basic knowledge of the game was aware of it. That said, Ren suspected that the 'king' in front of them was a fraud, switched out for a decoy. He only had to guess which one of them it was...

From here he would be only waiting for Phero to give the word, remaining politely silent, and plotting the best way to destroy the room and everyone in it.