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Thread: Phantom Isle - The Haunted Theme Park

  1. #301
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    Quote Originally Posted by enchantress View Post
    Phantom Isle
    The Haunted Theme Park

    The Hotel
    Situated at the back of the theme park is a grand hotel where guests and their Pokémon stayed whilst visiting. The ground floor has the usual areas such as lobby, restaurant, boutique, and entertainment room, while the downstairs levels house a storeroom and very special casino for its patrons. The hotel is still very active but its guests are far different than you might be used to encountering. The eight upper floors containing the suites are more often than not inhabited by spirits, some being those who perished in the fateful incident that closed the park. Some are restless not realising they are dead, and some are harmless, while others are not. Wander around the hotel and you may find more than you'd bargained for.

    Areas:
    The Lobby: Upon entering the hotel's main doors, you reach a marble-floored lobby with a check-in desk and huge chandeliers that flicker ominously. Behind the desk lies most of the keys to the various hotels rooms, but an unseen power prevents you from taking more than one at a time. A lone elevator sits at one end, leading up to the rest of the rooms or down to the storeroom and casino.
    "Last stop, Phantom Isle!" the captain announced over his megaphone.

    The announcement roused Jeri, who had fallen asleep in the light of the setting sun and gentle rocking of the boat.

    "Ph-Phantom Isle?" he stuttered as the booming voice roused him awake, standing and turning to the captain standing on the deck above, "I thought this boat was going to Cortoza!?"

    "You missed your stop about twenty minutes ago," the captain informed him blankly, "Now either you get off here or you sleep on the concrete until the ferry goes back out."

    "Can't you just take me back to the mainland?" Jeri pleaded.

    "Not goin' back to the mainland for another few days."

    "But- I- what am I supposed to do?"

    "Get off here and find a place to stay the night."

    "On a place named Phantom Isle? Hell no!"

    "Get off here or sleep in the garage. Your choice."

    "I-I... well... ugh."

    Jeri scratched his head dejectedly, deciding to check the map he had found covered in dust at the boathouse. The map was old and faded, but it didn't seem terribly outdated. Scanning its contents, he found what he presumed to be the island, though the name was blotted out by a water stain. Thankfully, the depiction of the island itself was largely spared, just enough for him to make out a hotel on the island.

    "Awesome," he mumbled to himself, "a hotel sounds perfect. I guess this isn't so bad after all."

    The boat docked at the crumbling pier and the handful of remaining passengers all disembarked. As the boat pulled up, Jeri got his first good look at the island. He could see in the distance the shadow of an abandoned theme park, rides cast over by the setting sun. The hotel was visible from the shore, looking like a building that had long since fallen into disrepair. Jeri swallowed hard.

    "You gettin' off, boy?"

    "Uh, yeah, yeah, I am." Jeri hesitantly stepped off the boat. With nowhere else to go, he made his way to the Hotel, hoping at the very least he could find a musty old bed on which he could wait out the darkest hours...

    {PASBL} [ASB Rules]

    (ASB Site) ~Wild Future~

    New to the ASB? Click the links above for more info! Looking for a new RP? Click Wigglytuff to check out Wild Future!

    [jerichi]

  2. #302
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    Quote Originally Posted by Marion Ette View Post
    uhhhhh - Much as the Harvester of Flesh attempts to be "civil" to Connor, the young photographer has absolutely hit his limit. The normally amiable, good-natured trainer fills with rage at the disgusting display that surrounds him; how many lives had been lost in the pursuit of this fickle Harvester's desire for beauty and style? Even if she was oddly captivating, Connor could not be enchanted by this strange woman given all that he knew about what she had done, and how much suffering the Drifloons had endured because of her actions. This monster did not deserve to call herself beautiful. The more she speaks, the more intense Connor's rage becomes, until he simply cannot hold in the ire and venom welling up within him. He spits out his words with contempt, calling their actions a disgrace; his voice rises with each word, until he finds himself screaming at the Harvester of Flesh, asking what was so goddamn important that she felt the need to not only destroy their bodies, but torment their souls, as well. The Harvester of Flesh seems hurt by Connor's words, though the fact that his screaming is focused on her seems to make her strangely... happy. It is when Connor diverts his attention that her anger becomes apparent, and she screams at the top of her lungs for the photographer to pay attention to her... only her. Despite the force with which she turns his head... Despite the intimidating nature of her face, her body, her entire abode... Something inside Connor snaps. He was not about to take this like a frightened little boy. He was going to stand up to the Harvester like a man... Even if it meant never living to the adulthood he emulated. He suddenly grabs her arm and tosses it aside, shouting that if she ever tries that again, he will punch her poor excuse for a face, as he immediately goes to check on Gaspard and the 'floons.

    For a moment, the Harvester of Flesh is completely and utterly stunned. She was so used to being the one in control that such incredible insolence was almost foreign to her. For a brief moment, she stands in shock, as Connor takes in the scene unravelling in front of him; the flesh of the Mr. Mime, which now appears fully inflated, seems to have taken on a life of its own, as it narrowly misses Gaspard with a Psywave attack. The Drifloons seem to be trying to attack the Mr. Mime with an Ominous Wind created between them, which blows by Gaspard without having any effect (as the Drifloons anticipated), though the Mr. Mime throws up a powerful Light Screen to deflect some of the damage. In the moment that Connor takes in the scene, Gaspard suddenly takes on a shocked expression, looking behind Connor with a look of fear and dread, before immediately rushing to Connor's aid, knocking him out of the way of a powerful strike attack from the sewn-together maiden he had so recently insulted. Growling like an animal, the eyes of the Harvester turn wild with rage, as she bears her claws, which appear to be an odd fusion of long manicure nails and actual Pokemon claws. For the moment, the Harvester of Breath appears to be a passive watcher in this entire battle, and even excuses himself for a moment... The sound of someone greeting him outside the door confuses Connor. Who else could possibly be in this mirror maze? Whoever it was, the Balloon Man comes back looking rather chipper, with a giant, greasy bag full of tacos with the "TACO TIME" brand emblazoned on the front of the bag. He watches the battle unfold while eating a strange-looking taco full of eyes, and while he does not seem an immediate threat at this time, the Mr. Mime he has created is certainly not pulling any punches... and there was the issue of the very, very angry Harvester who sees fit to attack on her own.

    How will Connor react?
    As Connor turned around to see what was happening with Gaspard, Sam, and the other Drifloons, he was stunned to see them fighting against what seemed to be a Mr. Mime balloon that's taken a life of its own. "That balloon from earlier... that was from him...!" it seemed rather obvious that the Harvester of Breath was responsible for this though Connor noticed that he was just standing in the sidelines. "It's like he doesn't even care..." the photographer was already angry at this point but he was still sane enough to know that he probably wouldn't have to deal with him as long as he leaves the guy alone... for now.

    It was then that Gaspard had noticed something behind Connor, threatening to kill his partner while he was dealing with the balloon along with the Drifloons. "AIPO-AIPO!" he went to Connor's side just in time to knock him out of the way from the Harvester of Flesh's attack against him. The photographer was shocked at his partner's sudden moment that he was easily knocked down by the little monkey's push. It didn't take him long to realize that the Harvester of Flesh had suddenly take on a rather angry look, having just been recently insulted by the photographer. Connor was too angry to be scared at the woman's threatening appearance and so was Gaspard who had been enraged at her attempting to kill Connor. The photographer got up from his position and looked at both of the battles.

    Two fights happening at the same time. Sam and the Drifloons vs. the Mr. Mime Balloon. Gaspard vs. The Harvester of Flesh. Connor knew that in order to get out, he had to pay attention to both battles and guide not only Gaspard but the Drifloons as well. "Drifloons, please listen to me! All of you use Shadow Ball against the Mr. Mime! If he uses up a Light Screen again, give it a good 'ol Payback!" Connor was not very familiar on the possible moves that a Drifloon could learn, but he knew that they at least had those. He then turned to Gaspard and the Harvester of Flesh, "And as for you... Gaspard, Fire Punch her! If that's not enough, then use Shadow Claw! We'll make her pay for what she's done!" he commanded as he grabbed a taco from out of nowhere and took a bite. This whole adventure has made him very hungry after all and he needed to eat.

  3. #303
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    Quote Originally Posted by Marion Ette View Post
    Meetan - Meetan cheers for her Torchic with shaking fists and clenched teeth, the thrill of battle overwhelming her with emotion and anticipation. Ordering an Agility to boost the little chick's speed, the Torchic immediately darts into action, further increasing his nimbleness with an impressive show of dexterity. This newfound speed is just enough to get out of the way of the angry Liepard's Slash, which lands mere centimeters away from the Torchic, even going so far as to nick one of the feathers on his head. In a state of increasing momentum, the young chick-like Pokemon does not find it difficult to land a Low Kick square to the Liepard's stomach, which knocks the leopard off of her feet and to the ground, such is its super-effective force. The wounded Liepard is at least able to Growl from her position, though her vicious attempts at intimidation do nothing to prevent the Crossfire that burns horribly through her body. With a shuddering groan, the Liepard finally passes into unconsciousness, bits of her fur still alight with flame as she does. It seems as if Alice's trust in Torchic has been well-placed, and as the little bird flares out his feathers with pride, Alice can't help but feel that her belief in him helped him gather the strength to defeat his opponent. Level up for Torchic.

    The unconscious body of the mother Liepard is suddenly run over by a passing taco truck, which parks itself briefly on the carcass. A shadowy hand reaches out from the truck, placing a Taco Princess Crown on the trainer's head before it speeds away, leaving the poor, flattened Liepard on the ground. The crown may be made of cardboard, and a bit small for Alice's head, but something about its position on her head makes Alice feel like royalty for some reason... Rapid admires the crown on Alice's head a moment, and while her expression never really changes much, Alice can sense the aura of amusement radiating from the mechanical Rapidash. Even so, that amusement is short-lived; the ethereal purple flames were closing in, and it was clear to Alice now that a group of Litwick, Lampent and Chandelure were making their way over to the trainer and her formerly inanimate companion. Rapid nudges Alice, gently but insistantly, as she encourages her to mount the mechanical horse so that they can make a quick getaway... but a sudden Confuse Ray fired off from one of the Chandelure sends the mechanical horse into a strange, trance-like state. The Litwick and Lampent use their own powerful Confuse Rays on Alice and Torchic, and the disoriented Alice is compelled to follow the pretty, shiny lights in her confusion, though she is unaware of where they are leading her...

    ***

    As Alice finally snaps out of confusion, she realize that she is up against the wall in a small, sparsely decorated room, surrounded by Litwick and Lampent on all sides. Torchic, who is still confused, seems to be banging his head against the dingy white wall which Alice finds herself against. At the center of the room is Rapid... or, at least, what used to be Rapid, but the aura of life that once emanated from her is now gone. The poor horse, once full of life, now appears to be nothing more than an empty shell. The Litwick evolutionary family seem irritated based on their language to one another and their agitated motions, suggesting that Rapid's current state has them in a dither. One of the Chandelure turn towards Alice, and speaks to her in human language;

    "Ma'am, I do hope you understand how grave your situation is. You are wanted for the capture of a lady Liepard's child who is under our protection, and now for grave injuries which ultimately (though inadvertantly) have led to her death. You are sentenced to be consumed, both body and soul, by the Merry Reapers. If you wish to keep your soul in tact, you will help us find the soul that you call 'Rapid', which has evaded our grasp for far too long." The Chandelure gives Alice an ominous glare, as its comrades, who surround Alice, flicker with a rather intimidating eeriness of their own.

    It seems near impossible to beat so many Pokemon, particularly with a confused Torchic. That said, perhaps Alice does at least seem to have the opportunity to speak with what she can only assume is the "leader" of these Pokemon, which is an invaluable opportunity, indeed...

    What will Alice do?


    When the Liepard finally fell down, Alice sighed with relief, opening her arms to the cheerful Torchic to bounce into, which he soon did. For her to be so open following the attack by the Houndoom was a miracle, and he never knew when another scare was going to push them apart, so he nuzzled her proudly with affection. "You were so cool out there. I hope you know that." She grinned, although it didn't last. To the bird's shock, the teenager suddenly reeled back with an explosion of swear words, just evading a taco truck that was on top of the Pokemon's body. The crunch of her bones could be heard, blood seeping from the wounds, and her jaw dropped from horror. Death.

    What proceeded was utterly peculiar. A hand outstretched to place a cardboard taco crown on her blonde head, and the petite female looked over to Rapid, who seemed to approve, if not in a bit of a sarcastic manner. The truck had already sped away, leaving the dark-type's carcass in its wake, but she still somehow felt like royalty. This was good. Alice liked feeling like royalty. Royalty of what exactly, she didn't know, but there wasn't time to find out - the pretty lights came into view, her suspicions confirmed. Litwick, Lampent, Chandelure.

    "We've got to get out of here!" The girl more than agreed with the living ride's previous warnings, but it was too late. Rapid was confused, and before long, so were she and her Pokemon. The dizziness and haziness took over her panicked mind, tense shoulders drooping into relaxation as she and her adopted team member decided that actually, following the purple ghosts was a good idea.

    Never again. Ever. Ever.

    As the state wore off, Alice groaned, first aware that the room was boiling hot. She removed her gloves, shoving them into the pockets of the dark skinny jeans that she wished she hadn't worn. A sparkle of life and awareness returning to her blue eyes, the human gasped with a nasty shock, straightening up as much as possible, pressed against the wall that her poor friend was currently bashing his head against. Agitated and irritated dual-types filled the room, their purple flames terrifying to the poor girl. It reminded her of the fortune teller's words - she had to /overcome/.

    Rapid wasn't even there, apparently, and the eighteen year old bit her lip. She had left her stomach back at the battlefield, and her heart raced wildly. Alice could have fainted, but the young woman held on, listening to the leader's words with as much concentration as she could muster. A horrified sob escaped, the tears welling up behind her glasses beginning to leave trails down chubby red cheeks. She sniffed, opening her mouth, desperate to beg her now-level 34 Torchic to snap out of it, but not having the bravery to even plead in front of them. This was meant to be a fun but scary exploration of a theme park, not a walk to death row.

    "I..." She tried, swallowing the lump in her throat as best as possible, fingers of both hands intertwined as she tried to suppress her shaking, "I can try. But if she isn't Rapid - who is she? What's she done that means you've been after her so long? Rapid didn't even know who she was. The Fortune Tellers couldn't even figure that one out..." The captive rambled hesitantly, unsure of which one to really look at, and scared of focusing on Torchic for too long that they felt disrespected or compelled to finish her off whilst distracted.

    ((Stats.))
    Last edited by Meetan; 17th June 2013 at 9:24 PM. Reason: Had to edit to include a level for Daycare confirmation.

  4. #304
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    Quote Originally Posted by Sneasel12 View Post
    As the newest Phantom Isle ZA I’d like to welcome you all to my little group of the damned updatees. We’re going to have a frightfully good time.

    Marion Ette: I’m so glad I get to update for one of FB’s resident ghostly gals. I do hope my updates live up to your spectacularly spooky standards.

    Phantom Isle, the site of the most devastating disaster to happen memorable years, the very fallout of which made the island the supernatural equivalent of Chernobyl, and thus the perfect place to study the phenomenon of the Ghost type. Walking calmly through the very park that would make most any trainer shudder with fear for their very existence, you find yourself heading towards the Ghost Train, Phantom Isle’s very own Ground Zero. The humming of your Dusclops, Liliana, fills the air, eerily echoing in the distance, the very haze above that inspires her tune seems to shift in the air, moving with your every step towards the long since abandoned ride. With a nod you signal Liliana to halt her melody, and though the Dusclops ceases, the sound does not, ringing through the air for a moment before becoming slower, crackling with slight static as the PA system picks up the tune where the Ghost left off. With your head rushing with thoughts of answers and the fame that could follow, it takes you a moment to even notice the lingering sound, and as you snap to you decide to play things very cautiously, the haunts of the park seeming to take particular notice in your presence.

    Just inside the station you issue a second nod, and Liliana immediately fills the air with a luminous glow. You hope that the Foresight will alert you to the specters that seem to be watching you, but with a glance around, there is nothing. The air becomes still as the motionless station only adds to the feeling that something is very wrong here.

    CRACK! A thundering sound echoes overhead, giving your calm demeanor a bit of a prod, as the haze above you circles into a funnel rushing down upon you. The fog comes into war with the glow Liliana is letting off, struggling for a moment as it forms a dome above you before crashing down like a tidal wave, washing over you before fading into the sky again, the resonant energy of the Foresight sucked up by the paranormal forces which clearly don’t want you tampering with the very delicate balance of the area.

    The initial shock fades as Liliana spies something making a bit of movement in one of the carts ahead, the sound of whimpering heard lightly underneath the buzzing music of the speakers. Unsure from the distance as to what could be rocking the cart, you are however very certain that whatever it is, it wasn’t there but a moment ago...

    ...whatever shall you do?
    ((Thanks for picking me up, Sneezey! I'm certain that I'll love whatever creepy adventure you have in store for me.))

    Despite Marion's generally stoic and unflappable nature, her body seizes with alarm at the sudden burst of noise above her. Even despite her comfort in the world of the supernatural, there were some very natural reasons to be nervous about loud noises, such as loose, crumbling ceilings, falling rafters or sudden strikes of lightning. Marion's gaze lifts above her, immediately assessing if any of the aforementioned situations happened to be occurring, only to realize that the purple haze that Liliana had been humming about only moments before was starting to take on some very strange behavior. The haze, acting as if it had a will of its own, funnels down around the trainer and her Dusclops, combating the foresight's energy. Liliana is unable to compete with the powerful fog, much as she struggles, and the haze engulfs the pair before going back to its original state, sending a strong message to both Marion and Liliana that such tricks would not be welcome here.

    Marion furrows her brow, concentrating her thoughts for a few moments on the latest development. There were two possibilities at work here, and neither sat very well with her. Either the mist was a supernatural force unrelated to ghost types that somehow acted to negate any light-based attacks, whether willingly or automatically as a part of its composition... Or the mist was indeed a veiled ghost or ghosts, who were powerful enough to negate Liliana's foresight. Certainly, the latter possibility was far more concerning than the former, though the former implied that there were forces at work here beyond even what she has experienced. All she can say for certain is that foresight is no longer an option here for identifying potential ghosts... She and Liliana would have to be on their guard. Liliana gives Marion a sheepish look, as if upset and embarrassed by her failure to perform foresight effectively. The young female trainer gives her Pokemon a reassuring smile, but Liliana turns away from Marion as soon as she tries to reassure her. Taking a look in the direction where Liliana suddenly begins to point, Marion becomes aware of one of the train carts, rocking back and forth with the faint sound of whimpering.

    Liliana, ever the caring soul, immediately begins floating toward the cart, seeking to comfort the whimpering being within. Marion, however, holds her hand up, stopping Liliana in her tracks. Though Marion's look is still gentle towards her Dusclops, there is an element of concern in her eyes that prevents Liliana from going further. Marion carefully approaches Liliana, offers her hand for the ghostly creature to take, and encourages her to walk with her trainer. After all, in Marion's mind, the whimpering could simply be a ruse... Liliana certainly wore her kindness on her sleeve, and much as Marion loathed to admit it, she could be emotionally manipulated just as easily as her Dusclops, given the right situation. Both of them had to be careful, particularly if some malevolent being sought to capitalize on their empathy. Though the pair move closer to the cart, they still maintain their distance. Marion was definitely aware of the fact that this rocking and whimpering started soon after the haze had performed its strange actions... There may have been more to that event than just negating foresight, she thinks to herself. I've certainly heard strange things about the mist before... There's no telling what changes it could have made to the environment.

    Marion gently calls out to the cart, her voice as calm and soothing as she can possibly make it; "Hello? Are you hurt? Do you need help?" Liliana follows Marion's statement with the same words translated into Dusclops language, in the event that the whimpering being happens to be a Pokemon incapable of understanding human language. Worse comes to worse, Liliana is confident in her ability to translate for Marion, should the need arise.

    [FB || PASBL]

  5. #305
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    Quote Originally Posted by Marion Ette View Post
    Balmund - Balmund cannot shake the feeling that the strange events unfolding around him are a sign that whatever force was responsible for these happenings expected compensation for the imbalance he had helped to put into motion. Though Balmund understood the need for balance in all things, he also understood that as a human being, accepting that kind of fate without a fight was something that he simply could not do. No matter how many waves of enemies were destined to come after him as a result of his choices, he would face them one by one, and hopefully defeat them in the process. If there was to be a happy ending, Balmund hoped it would be for everyone.

    Orchrist has been trained so thoroughly by Balmund that she does not require orders; rather, she moves into action immediately, balancing a quick-thinking strategic mind with the adrenaline of her newfound bloodlust. She Coils in preparation for her next big attack, taking a brief moment to prep her muscles for the incredibly vicious strike. The two Dusknoir act quickly, coordinating a Will-o-Wisp barrage that strikes both Orchrist and Vega with searing burns. Undeterred and focused by the orders of his trainer, Vega works through the burn and strikes the Dusknoir nearest to him with Dragonbreath, which certainly gets the chubby ghost's attention. In fact, the powerful dragonbreath attack seems to have been supported by a tiny cloud of fiery dragon energy, which Balmund can recognize as Dragon Rage, though he cannot quite tell where such an attack would have come from... Though he is barely able to make out the outline of a small, ghostly creature moving around the Dusknoir's feet, taunting it with fangs that are abnormally large given the creature's body.

    Further enraged by her burned state and in the perfect state to strike, Orchrist is prudent enough to let the Dusknoir move first so as to build enough energy to make the attack count. Vega, on the other hand, strikes quickly, Sucker Punching the Dusknoir nearest him with devastating accuracy. The two Dusknoir, still working in sync, simultaneously attempt to Hex Orchrist and Vega; though the Seviper has the reflexes necessary to narrowly avoid the horrifying purple glare of the Dusknoir, Vega is not so lucky, given his close proximity to the Dusknoir, and finds his burns adding substantially to the damage of their powerful ghostly move. At the perfect moment, Orchrist enacts her Payback on the Dusknoir nearest her, which is filled with such rage and power that Balmund himself winces a bit at the Dusknoir's horrifying cry of pain.

    The sound of a motor in the distance draws Balmund's attention, and indeed, the other combatants are similarly drawn to the sound. Everyone pauses for a moment to figure out what on Earth could be moving in the utter silence of their time-stopped world. Suddenly, a taco truck with the words "TACO TIME" painted in big, red letters and a spinning plastic taco on the top of the truck comes barreling through the battlefield, the Taco Time taco theme playing at full blast. Orchrist cries out in pain as the insane taco truck manages to run over her tail in its unpredictable, zig-zagging path through the time-stopped park, as it runs over mascots and carefully-manicured bushes, though where it could possibly be heading is a mystery. When time moves again, Balmund will certainly be curious to see how the parents beside the excited, time-frozen child standing in front of the freshly-made roadkill version of Dolan Ducklett will explain the sudden, inexplicable death of the beloved character once the flow of time is restored. The two Dusknoir look at each other and shrug, while Orchrist inspects her tail quickly with a concerned look, though she is quick to turn her attention back to the battle at hand. She is fortunate not to have taken the hit head-on, but the damage to her tail will likely affect her ability to use tail-based attacks in this battle. At least the taco truck managed to drop a few bags of greasy tacos in its mad rush to wherever it happened to be heading...

    How will Balmund react?
    Of all the things Duke was expecting, given he was already expecting the unexpected considering the nature of the Park, the one thing he never saw coming was the rampaging Taco Time Taco Truck making its mad dash through the frozen in time grounds were he stood. No. Effing. Way. His mouth remained agape as his mind rebooted itself, recovering from a sudden blue-screen of death. What's next, Mecha-Godzilla on a tutu?

    His mind snaps back to reality in response to the sharp hisses of both his Pokémon. They were right, this was no time to dwell in mind****ery. His opponents sure as hell wouldn't, and with their lives on the line, he held every intention to take matters at hand as seriously as possible. Duke assesses the situation. Both his Pokémon were not looking nearly quite their best, and the nasty burns inflicted upon their bodies would drag them further down the longer the battle carried on. Vega in one hand had been sustaining heavy damage, and while Chris on the other was handling her opponent fairly well, the more recent developments resulted in quite the injury on her tail. A fracture? Both burns and other injuries where very likely to impact the snake's mobility and stamina, though by virtue of their training they knew better than to visibly show their pain, even though the Dusknoir could very likely see through their stoicism. They had to press on, fast and aggressive while they still had the energy to do so.

    Orchrist was still screeching curses at the bloody bastard that dared run her over. Matters were made only worse by the fact that the ****er managed to actually get away with it! The rage, it burned down to her core. She would've chased after it if she had a choice. She needed a target, any target, so she could at least vent out her frustration. It was there, it had already caused her harm, and it would pay for the sins committed upon her persona, all of them, wether or not it was it's to begin with. You condescending ****er. What the hell are you looking at? I'll end you! Shriek in pain for me. Squirm! Die! Die! DIE! The spiteful thoughts brewed in her mind, quickly reaching a boiling point, and she screamed; a guttural emotional outburst to rival that of any banshee, half due to her own hatred, and half resulting from the pain she started to inflict upon herself as she sacrificed her own health. Chris started to summon up her twin sisters - Magic Clones! Maybe Chris wasn't feeling her best physically, but together, Dusknoir was about to face wave after wave of Dark Pulse!

    Supervising the both of them, or rather, the three, Duke concentrated himself on quickly issuing orders to his Arbok. It was imperative to draw the Dusknoir's attention into themselves as much as possible. If they couldn't possibly see the little brave one, Vega was far more likely to take any punishment his opponent was able deal, at least in comparison. The shape of the other creature was starting to become all the more clearer, and familiar. Could it possibly be what Balmund thought it was? Answers will come soon enough.

    "Do not relent! Soften it with your Acid Spray, then blast that thing with your Hidden Power! Careful, Vega!" Balmund commanded, hoping with all his might to avoid as much friendly fire as possible. A hard balance to achieve, to be restrained and unrestrained, but while he hoped to protect their unexpected ally, Duke knew full well that nothing short of being brutally aggressive was ever going to be enough to subdue the haunted guardians.
    Last edited by Balmund; 9th May 2013 at 3:23 AM.

  6. #306
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    Default Seek Not Shelter Where Your Soul Shall Not Sleep

    myahoo: - Your soul lingers here...

    -----

    Marion Ette: “Hello? Are you hurt? Do you need help?” you call out to the rocking cart, Leliana translating into her Dusclops language as you warily inch ever so slightly closer. After a moment, a small figure rises up slightly from the car before letting out a shriek of terror upon sight of your Dusclops, “LEAVE ME ALONE!” Immediately thereafter the figure is revealed to be a young boy who then scrambles from the cart in your direction, stumbling and attempting to use you as a human shield in front of your ghostly partner.

    “Miss Tenderly help!” the boy cries out grasping at your skirt tightly. A moment later he stops, the fabric tipping him off that he seems to have the wrong person. Looking up at you the boy begins to sob again at his mistake, “Y- you’re not Miss Tenderly...” The boy then begins to panic once more, glancing back and forth between you and Leliana. He begins to shake before letting out a whimper of speech “P- please don’t hurt me... I lost my class...” And with that he looks back at the cart in which he was hiding as tears begin to roll down his face. Despite the oddity of a young child being left alone in the middle of this abandoned park it is however fairly evident that he means you no apparent harm.

    ...whatever shall you do?

    -----

    Yougirasu: A shiver runs along your spine as you read the words “Won’t you play with me?” aloud from the pool of what was once a mirror spilt out on the ground before you. As the child’s laugh rings through your mind once more you begin to contemplate your options of escape. You could attempt to smash through the remaining mirrors in a mad dash for the exit, but you have only one Pokemon even remotely capable of doing so, and the direction in which you entered the building has long since left your mind. As such, you decide to cautiously step out from the area in which you were trapped, expecting a trap to spring from the shadows and cause you to meet your end.

    But alas, no swinging pendulum nor darts of poison. No battering ram nor closing walls. All that lies before you is a straight passageway that seems to stretch on for eternity. Unlike the maze which you had just traversed, the mirrors here are all pristine, and practically identical to the naked eye. As you walk through the passage you attempt to avoid looking at the mirrors, lest the shadow you witnessed before make an appearance again. But as you look there is no shadow, only yourself, reflected infinitely in the halls boundless supply of surfaces, and as you walk there is no echo, only the sound of your own two feet clattering beneath you. The monotonous walk seems to stretch on forever, and as you look behind you the area from which you emerged is now long since lost. As you turn your head back towards your seemingly unreachable destination you catch something out of the corner of your eye, a single mirror with the phrase “Won’t you play with me?” carved deep into its surface. Unsure how the words got there when they were not a moment ago, it dawns on you that whatever is keeping you here has no intention of letting you go any time soon.

    ...whatever shall you do?

    -----

    Jerichi: Welcome to my incredibly small group. As the first person I have going to the hotel, I have one of my personal favorite adventures prepared for you.

    With a rather rude awakening having missed your intended stop in Cortoza, you decide that you may as well attempt to get some proper sleep as opposed to taking a long nap on the concrete of the garage. Despite not being particularly happy about having to attempt to do so on a place named Phantom Isle, you rummage through the boathouse for a bit before locating a dusty old map with a few good water stains on it, which given the ruined name, you can only assume belongs to the Isle on which you’ve found yourself stuck for the next few days. Surveying the map, you locate the large hotel found on the other end of the theme park that the island is known for and decide to head there in search of a bed on which to rest your weary head.

    As you walk through the park on your way to the hotel, it appears quiet, and not in the way that you would expect for a place named such as it is. Indeed, the park itself seems rather... not spooky. However, as you approach the hotel, the building’s lights slowly flicker on, greeting you with their ominous glow. And before you have a moment to process this, the front doors swing open, and a calm melody can be heard playing in the lobby. Taking a moment before following the tune, you hesitantly make your way inside to find the lobby a bit dusty but otherwise quite well taken care of. Still thinking of sleep, you head for the desk to grab a room key, only to find that there is but one that remains, if you can still call it a key. The metal key has been worn down to a single cylindrical nub, and the number tag attached is similarly worn, though not without a number, as a large 0 is carved haphazardly into the tag. If you still wish to sleep here, you will likely have to find a proper key to do so, and though you initially intend to leave the fake key where it hangs, it soon launches itself off of its hook and lands in front of you, taunting you with the number carved into its metal.

    ...whatever shall you do?

  7. #307
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    Quote Originally Posted by enchantress View Post
    The Park
    Despite the lack of human activity in the park during its closure, it seems those from the realm of the dead are quite active in these parts. All of the popular rides remain the same as they were prior to the ghost train event, but over time they seem to have become populated by very unsavoury characters in the form of spectres, poltergeists, and even some of the more mischievous Pokémon who want to manipulate anyone brave enough to enter such a place. If you dare to venture here, you'd best have your wits about you.

    Areas:
    Fortune Teller's Tent: Situated in the shadows cast by the majestic circus tent is a much smaller tent which once housed a mystical woman who was said to have powers beyond that of a regular human, being able to see not only into the past, but also into the future. She passed away not too long before the closure of the theme park but nobody thought anything of it, since she was getting on in years. Today, there is still a light coming from her tent, so could it be she still lingers in the theme park, waiting for her next customer?
    A dark figure makes its way to the entrance of the park, the appears to be alone but the dark, black cloak the figure is wearing makes it difficult to tell anything, even gender as the face of the figure is hidden under the hood of the cloak. The only thing not black is a small crest at chest height. It looks like a golden shield and crown, with green trees on the shield. If one were to look good, they would be able to recognize it as the Virote family crest. The person looks as if he is hiding something under his cloak, but it is impossible to see what.

    "Well, let's see what is true about these ghost stories people tell about this park," the figure says to himself, a hint of sarcasm clearly audible, "'The Haunted Theme Park' is what they call it, but they should know better than to think ghosts are involved. I have studied all my life, though that is still only 15 years, but I have never found any scientific proof of ghosts any other than Ghost Pokémon." A short pause follows, "Those people must be imagining things. But okay, let's see what there is to do here." Rowan takes the hood of the cloak of his head and turns towards the map of the park that is hanging left of him.

    "Let's see, a rollercoaster, a circus, a merry-go-round, hmmm..., hmmm..., this should be good. Another piece of non-scientific superstition, a fortune teller. Come to think of it, I heard she died shortly before the whole park was closed. Let's check out her tent, she might not be there anymore but who knows what kind of interesting things there are still left." With a smile that reflects a small sense of superiority and a quick movement Rowan pulls the hood of his cloak over his head again, concealing himself from view and walks through the entrance of the park. He looks around, all the abandoned attractions, they look old and creepy, as if they could collapse if the wind would decide to blow just a little bit harder. And just as Rowan thinks of this, he somehow starts to feel a little bit less sure of himself as he approaches the Fortune Teller's Tent.

  8. #308
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    Quote Originally Posted by Sneasel12 View Post
    Jerichi: Welcome to my incredibly small group. As the first person I have going to the hotel, I have one of my personal favorite adventures prepared for you.

    With a rather rude awakening having missed your intended stop in Cortoza, you decide that you may as well attempt to get some proper sleep as opposed to taking a long nap on the concrete of the garage. Despite not being particularly happy about having to attempt to do so on a place named Phantom Isle, you rummage through the boathouse for a bit before locating a dusty old map with a few good water stains on it, which given the ruined name, you can only assume belongs to the Isle on which you’ve found yourself stuck for the next few days. Surveying the map, you locate the large hotel found on the other end of the theme park that the island is known for and decide to head there in search of a bed on which to rest your weary head.

    As you walk through the park on your way to the hotel, it appears quiet, and not in the way that you would expect for a place named such as it is. Indeed, the park itself seems rather... not spooky. However, as you approach the hotel, the building’s lights slowly flicker on, greeting you with their ominous glow. And before you have a moment to process this, the front doors swing open, and a calm melody can be heard playing in the lobby. Taking a moment before following the tune, you hesitantly make your way inside to find the lobby a bit dusty but otherwise quite well taken care of. Still thinking of sleep, you head for the desk to grab a room key, only to find that there is but one that remains, if you can still call it a key. The metal key has been worn down to a single cylindrical nub, and the number tag attached is similarly worn, though not without a number, as a large 0 is carved haphazardly into the tag. If you still wish to sleep here, you will likely have to find a proper key to do so, and though you initially intend to leave the fake key where it hangs, it soon launches itself off of its hook and lands in front of you, taunting you with the number carved into its metal.

    ...whatever shall you do?
    Bypassing the rather drab looking park entirely, Jeri headed straight for the hotel, seeking at least a little bit of shelter. Decrepit buildings definitely weren't his favorite, but it seemed better than camping. He approaches the building, reaching out an arm in anticipation of opening the door, but the door opens for him, the lights of the lobby flickering on as he approached. Jeri froze, taken aback a little by the sudden activity from the seemingly abandoned hotel, but hesitantly proceeded, drawn in by a soothing song emanating from the entrance.

    "H-Hello?" he called into the dusty reception area. He was a little surprised by how well-kept the furniture and rugs were, considering the somewhat sorry state of the exterior. Searching for staff, he found none (as he expected), and decided to check out the desk to see if there were any keys he could use.

    He found only one, but it was hardly a key. All the teeth had been worn off and its metal tag was unreadable, but there was a rough "0" carved into it. Jeri scratched his head a little, not totally sure what to do from here. He contemplated taking the key for a moment, but it's warn out state meant it probably wasn't going to be much use. He decided to continue on, in search of another key. But, before he could, the key shot out in front of him, clinking onto the floor. Jeri was stopped in his tracks, blinking in disbelief for a moment. Wary of what just happened, he bent down to get a closer look at it. It seemed no more impressive close up. But if it insisted in coming along, who was he to deny it the trip? Picking it up gingerly, he pocketed the key before continuing on to explore the lobby and the hotel further.


    {PASBL} [ASB Rules]

    (ASB Site) ~Wild Future~

    New to the ASB? Click the links above for more info! Looking for a new RP? Click Wigglytuff to check out Wild Future!

    [jerichi]

  9. #309
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    Quote Originally Posted by Marion Ette View Post
    Emp - Wes is fully aware of the fact that this casino far outranked Jirachi's in terms of splendor and polish; however, it also outranked Jirachi's Casino when it came to the risks the Casino demanded of its patrons. Recalling the pups one by one with the mentality that such a posh place was not necessarily appropriate for a group of rambunctious young Eevee, the young man is interrupted as he watches a woman run out of "lifetime" right before his eyes. Seeing her horrified reaction amidst a sea of expressionless, apathetic faces, was more than enough to help Wes comprehend the gravity of the situation he finds himself in. Fortunately, the strange Solosis whose telepathic signature mimics the Reuniclus that Wes interacted with before his strange journey is quick to provide Wes with a pass to verify his membership to this sinister establishment, which at least prevents him from being forcibly kicked out right off the bat. Wes could not be certain if this was the exact same Pokemon that he had encountered before, or an offspring, but neither explanation seemed easily plausible. Either way, the Solosis seemed to recognize him somehow, and his friendly nature was enough to reassure Wes that the help he provides was at least genuine, even if his identity was questionable.

    When the sharply-dressed Golurk makes its way over to the scruffy-looking trainer, it seems rather surprised that Wes is actually able to provide him with the appropriate card; giving him the once-over, it points to Wes' clothes and gives a rather disparaging look, but after scanning the card with his glowing yellow eyes, it seems satisfied enough, though Wes cannot help but notice the fact that the Golurk's focus remains on the muddy tracks that his footprints have left in the formerly pristine blood-red carpet, even while he asks the ghostly security guard for directions to some races he could potentially bet on. After giving the matter some thought, the Golurk points in the direction of a large, red door at the far end of the Casino, over which a sign advertises "Houndoom Races". The Golurk seems hesitant, however, and bows its head, though Wes does not seem quite clear on why the intimidating-looking Pokemon seemed reluctant to point Wes in that direction. It also draws Wes' attention to a blue door with little orange Magikarp painted all over it, which also has the words "MAGIKARP RACES" featured prominently in orange paint to match the little 'karp Pokemon. The Solosis seems focused on a pair of smartly-dressed young men nearby, who smoke their cigars nervously as they converse in hushed tones with one another. The Golurk nods toward the Solosis, as if to silently confirm something, though the motion is so slight that Wes only barely notices it. Wes cannot help but be intrigued by this conversation between the men, which is just loud enough for him to hear;

    "Taco truck? You're... you're kidding me, right? Our entire pack, wiped out by a-"

    "By a taco truck. Yes. I dunno who the Hell was drivin' that thing, but it broke right through the kennel and now we got 7 Houndoom in the hospital. Blood and tacos everywhere. It was a mess, man, a total-"

    "Spare me the details, you idiot. We're losin' money to those b******s racin' MAGIKARP with every wasted second. We have to race SOMETHING or we'll be out ten grand, easy!"

    "Yeah, but what? Where are we gonna find Pokemon to race?"

    Solosis turns to Wes, though his expression, rather than insistant, is serene and nonjudgmental. It seems as if the little cell-like creature has no preference in terms of action, and indeed, Wes could choose to try and engage the men whose Houndoom are in the hospital, or simply make his way to the Magikarp races and ignore them altogether. Or, if neither race appeals to Wes, he could ask the Golurk for directions to a different form of gambling.

    How will Wes react?
    The Golurk’s searchlight-eyes scan from the trainer’s scruffy hair down to his muddy sneakers that'd tracked dirt all over the blood carpeting, giving a dissaproving look before homing in on the member’s card which looked authentic enough. With a sigh of relief Wes counted the footsteps as the mighty sentry continued its patrol, safe for the time being... The adolescent’s eyes switch from the large red door across to the blue door advertising races featuring Houndoom and Magikarp respectively. Wes couldn’t help but smirk – ‘who would want to see a bunch of Magikarp flounder down a race track?’ From personal experience Magikarp weren’t the fastest swimmers. Wes then spotted two men, suited up and whispering among the thick haze of cigar smoke. The boy strained his ears but any voices were drowned out by the noise of the slot machines. The Golurk and Solosis share a subtle exchange, Wes barely able to notice but it looked as though the guard was verifying something to the cell Pokémon. The trainer’s curiosity sharpened, tilting his head in efforts to listen in on the gentlemen’s conversation.

    "Taco truck? You're... you're kidding me, right? Our entire pack, wiped out by a-"

    "By a taco truck. Yes. I dunno who the Hell was drivin' that thing, but it broke right through the kennel and now we got 7 Houndoom in the hospital. Blood and tacos everywhere. It was a mess, man, a total-"

    "Spare me the details, you idiot. We're losin' money to those b******s racin' MAGIKARP with every wasted second. We have to race SOMETHING or we'll be out ten grand, easy!"

    "Yeah, but what? Where are we gonna find Pokemon to race?"

    The boy raised an eyebrow, surely he heard wrong. The idea of a taco truck careering into the Houndoom kennels taking out the whole pack was enough to pull at the trainer’s heartstrings, but Wes was more concerned with the Magikarp races. He could almost feel the Rocket Ball wriggling against his belt – a fully grown koi ready for competition. Was this fate or was something more sinister in store for the lost trainer? Solosis quickly revolves in his gooey mass with a look of shared opportunity, although he didn’t seem too insistent. The trainer had reached a crossroads, and with this offer too great to pass up he slowly approached.

    “I have a Pokémon to race”, Wes interrupted, prizing a Rocket Ball from his jean pocket and tossing it in one hand in efforts to keep his cool, “Guppy is a shiny Magikarp, well trained, at least level fifty. I’m sure he’d fetch some high odds if he entered, but I’d want a nice cut of the earnings...” Wes’s cheeks felt numb as he strained to keep his confident grin, clenching his fists to stop his hands shaking – the realisation of how blasé he’d behaved in front of two shifty characters was enough to send chills down his spine...

    FB
    Last edited by Emp; 22nd May 2013 at 8:18 PM.

  10. #310
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    Quote Originally Posted by Sneasel12 View Post

    Yougirasu: A shiver runs along your spine as you read the words “Won’t you play with me?” aloud from the pool of what was once a mirror spilt out on the ground before you. As the child’s laugh rings through your mind once more you begin to contemplate your options of escape. You could attempt to smash through the remaining mirrors in a mad dash for the exit, but you have only one Pokemon even remotely capable of doing so, and the direction in which you entered the building has long since left your mind. As such, you decide to cautiously step out from the area in which you were trapped, expecting a trap to spring from the shadows and cause you to meet your end.

    But alas, no swinging pendulum nor darts of poison. No battering ram nor closing walls. All that lies before you is a straight passageway that seems to stretch on for eternity. Unlike the maze which you had just traversed, the mirrors here are all pristine, and practically identical to the naked eye. As you walk through the passage you attempt to avoid looking at the mirrors, lest the shadow you witnessed before make an appearance again. But as you look there is no shadow, only yourself, reflected infinitely in the halls boundless supply of surfaces, and as you walk there is no echo, only the sound of your own two feet clattering beneath you. The monotonous walk seems to stretch on forever, and as you look behind you the area from which you emerged is now long since lost. As you turn your head back towards your seemingly unreachable destination you catch something out of the corner of your eye, a single mirror with the phrase “Won’t you play with me?” carved deep into its surface. Unsure how the words got there when they were not a moment ago, it dawns on you that whatever is keeping you here has no intention of letting you go any time soon.

    ...whatever shall you do?
    Taking the extra precaution, Yougi crept out from his reflective cage and into the hallway that had emerged. His eyes darted about, looking for something out of place. Such eerie happenings warranted a swinging pendulum, charging battering ram or encroaching walls that would transport him into the light. Fortunately, nothing seemed to appear at least for the minute. Ahead of him lay a seemingly endless path, either side lined with pristine mirrors. Unlike the ones within the hall, these were flawless, as good as new- if not better.
    'How is that even possible?' He thought to himself before choosing to dispel this series of thoughts. He instead decided that the best thing to do, to avoid anything that might terrorize his already overstretched sense of fear, was to glue his gaze firmly on his feet as he took his first steps into the hallway to nowhere.
    Of course, even if his eyes were focused down on his feet, that didn't stop his imagination from running wild. His mind seemed to race with shadows that could have been appearing for all he knew.

    Walking onwards, he eventually noticed that there was a distinct lack of echo within the hallway. There had always been an echo whilst he was walking and whilst the break was a relief to his senses, it was altogether unnerving. The only sound that he found was the rapping of his feet with each step against the floor that he was walking on. It seemed like he'd been walking for quite a while, but it had taken him some time to figure out what was different about his walk.
    Deciding that he'd made a decent journey so far, he straightened his neck, stretching out the kinks in it, and looked behind him to check on his progress so far. Looking back towards the origin of the hallway, he's shocked to see that the entrance is no longer visible. Instead, he's simply looking out into a darkness that now lies on either side of the path. His mind races once more, hoping that the starting point had simply been lost in the distance, whilst the more sinister parts of his mind suspected that something could have happened to it. Although his imagination couldn't stretch to anything more than something.
    Returning his gaze back to the unseen destination, he looked deep into the darkness for just a second before his attention was caught by something else. Out of the corner of his eye, he'd noticed something different, a flaw within one of the mirrors.
    "Won't you play with me?" He read out as he stared into the mirror. The now recurring phrase had been carved deep into the surface, spoiling the reflective qualities of a perfectly good mirror. The phrase seemed to have been waiting for him. He was sure that it hadn't been there before, meaning that it had appeared as he was turned around. He stopped to reflect on how they might have been etched there in such a short space of time before something else ran across his mind. There was the thought that he was being toyed with. And, worse that that, he was sure that things were only just getting started. This wasn't a good thing, since that also meant that whatever was out there had no intention of letting him go any time soon.

    Faced with this realization, Yougi paused on his journey. His mind ticked over, running over everything that he'd figured out so far. It worked far faster than it had since he'd arrived, since he needed ideas sooner rather than later. He had no idea how much further his destination might be and how long he'd need to walk down this path. No idea if the path that lead back to the beginning exists any more and, worst of all, he had no idea who was communicating with him through the medium of mirrors. He paced back and forth as his mind worked over, not moving more than a few mirrors away from the message, figuring out his next move. Something was playing with him and, he couldn't be sure if this was their game or not. It was if he was ten steps behind a mysterious figure, not that he knew if they were a playmate or an opponent.
    He cried out in frustration. It welled up inside of him now that his mind was mulling everything over. When he had been in the hall of mirrors, things hadn't been too bad, he'd know what was happening and the frustrations that you encountered there were all part of the experience. This was another kettle of fish though, supernatural games weren't something that you came across normally and they were far more frustrating. He was left feeling like a pawn in a game of chess, being moved slowly along a path, not knowing where he was heading just that he had to go straight. And the very worst part of this supernatural spectacle were the messages. Someone, somewhere was simply playing with him and forcing him to walk far, far further than he had anticipated. Suddenly, it was all too much.

    His eyes closed to shield himself from anything he was about to do, his body reacted to all the anger and frustration that was welling up.
    'Things wouldn't feel this bad if I knew who or what was out there.' He thought to himself as he moved.
    "I'll play with you!" He called out, before his fist started moving. "But enough with these games!"
    As his fist rushed forwards, he knew that it was aiming for the message. After all, it was the only thing that he could really aim at. He just wished that he could shut his imagination off and that the impact wouldn't hurt too much, although his head was telling him otherwise.
    Castiel: I don't fight any more. I watch the bee's



        Spoiler:- :

  11. #311
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    Quote Originally Posted by enchantress View Post
    Phantom Isle
    The Haunted Theme Park

    The Park
    Ghost Train: Enter if you dare - The Ghost Train, the site of the disaster responsible for the closure of the theme park. Ghostly visits from children lost are reported to have scared many a construction crew away from this site while some of the strongest and darkest Pokémon of all are rumoured to dwell within the burnt out remains of this once popular ride.
    Stacey stood before the entrance to Haunted Theme Park taking a moment to observe the vastness of what was once a great landmark in Fizzytopia. It was nearing Dusk and the sun was setting against the horizon casting eerie reds and oranges across the structures within the Park. It had been a long while since she last ventured out and choosing somewhere so similar to her home made her feel a little safer. After her last adventure she was feeling a little on edge and jittery and amazingly being somewhere where ghosts resided made her more comfortable. She breathed in deeply and smiled as she felt a presence hovering over her shoulder. She turned her head to spot her Yamask looking towards the Park with excitement glistening in her eyes. This was her very first adventure and her mistress has chosen such a wonderful place to explore. She heard a grunt beneath her and floated down to chatter to her brother, Pyrexia feeling a little left out. His flame burnt brightly casting dancing shadows around him as his frown was turned upside down, his sister easily perking him up.

    "Lets go in then shall we," Stacey said and it was all the mischievous duo needed as they floated and bounced into the Park squealing at all spooky rides and stalls. Stacey chuckled but was quick to chase after them not wanting to lose them, she knew what these two could get up to. She gasped at the large rides such as the Rollerquaza that towered above her. She loved rollercoasters and considered taking a closer look but her Pokemon had other ideas and were venturing further. She passed a Pirate Ship, Helter Skelter and Ferris Wheel and each time her Pokemon passed them searching for something else.

    Soon Stacey stopped outside the Fortune Teller's Tent marvelling at how a light was still shining from inside. She was curious and was making her way over to the tent when she heard a cry of exuberance from her Pokemon. She turned to see them standing before The Ghost Train and she stopped feeling a little panic in her heart, something was warning her away but deep within she felt a call, a tug at something dark hidden within wanting her, begging her to move. She felt her feet move of their own accord and she caught up with her Pokemon who stared at their trainer with interest. They saw a dark gleam in her eye and a wicked smile that graced her lips and were surprised, she had never looked that way before, not to them anyway.

    "Many people died here" she said in a far off voice before blinking rapidly and staring at her concerned Pokemon. "I'm fine don't worry, trust you two to find this place," she said and they instantly brightened begging her to take them within.

    "Well, I wouldn't want to disappoint my babies, come on then lets go take a look but stay close to each other and to me okay." They nodded happy to get their way, this was the eeriest place in the Park, which meant that they just had to go there!


    ~Stace and Imp. A Perfect Pair~
    FB : PC : DT

  12. #312
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    Quote Originally Posted by Marion Ette View Post
    CyberBlastoise - Normally, an outdated calendar was nothing to be afraid of. After all, the Phantom Isle Hotel had been around for ages, and it would be logical for such things to be left about, particularly in a place that had supposedly been abandoned for years - and yet, the calendar looked new. It shines with the white, pristine gloss of freshly-printed pages. Given almost 30 years of age, this calendar should be falling apart, or yellowing at the very least. It was hard to believe that something left on the counter of an abandoned hotel would be this well-preserved. On top of that, the supposedly "abandoned" nature of the Hotel seems to be coming more and more into question... Bill's ears catch the sound of the lobby elevator rising to the upper floors, a progressively softer ping! indicating each level it travels away from the floor. Murmurs and footsteps from the staircases echo in Bill's ears. Of course, it could have simply been that the occupants of the hotel were merely sleeping or relaxing in their rooms when Bill arrived, but the very aura of the lobby was different. There was less dust, less clutter... a sense of life that was previously absent. Either a troupe of cleaning ladies had swarmed the lobby while Bill was upstairs and managed to completely turn the place around in the roughly 15 minutes he was away, or something dramatic had happened. It seemed proposterous at first, but time travel was becoming more and more of a plausible explanation. Now that Bill thought about it, even though he was not one for fashion, the shoulder pads, massively curly hair and huge, dangling earrings that the woman wore as part of her ensemble certainly seemed characteristic of the date on the calendar. Of course, now was not the time to dwell on big earrings, or the music that begins wafting in through the speakers in the lobby... Or the sound of the Taco Time taco theme blaring outside the door, as a taco truck parks itself dangerously close to the entrance.

    Tacos, tacos, fun, fun, fun!
    Tacos by the ton, ton, ton,
    on your couch or on the run,
    TACO TIME FOR EVERYONE!


    Taco time...? Wait, no! Now was not the time for tacos! If Bill was going to get any solid answers about the sudden change in his surroundings, he was going to have to make his way to the sixth floor.

    As Bill and his buddy Gold make their way up the stairs, he suddenly finds himself unceremoniously pushed aside, his partner nearly trampled by a pair of bulky hotel security guards, racing one after the other up the stairs without so much as an "excuse me". Despite their rudeness, however, Bill can sense that their lack of apology and sudden push up the stairs might somehow be warranted, as the sounds of gasps and screams become steadily more apparant the higher Bill climbs. Before Bill can reach so much as the fifth floor, however, he is stopped by one of the security guards who pushed Bill aside earlier, who is using his body to block the stairwell.

    "Can't climb no higher, I'm afraid," he states matter-of-factly to Bill, as he reaches for a bag full of Taco Time tacos. "Got a situation here." As the security guard says this, he holds his free hand in front of Bill, giving him a stern look as he waves in a group of police officers that have recently climbed the stairs behind him. As he waves the police officers in, a man in a dark coat with messy brown hair flashes the man a badge, and also receives a gesture to enter through the stairwell. The man with the badge turns around and urges someone behind Bill to hurry up, and Bill feels an unsettling stare at his back... He realizes that whoever was being spoken to by the man seemed to be staring intently at the back of Bill's head. Turning around, Bill comes face to face with a Gothitelle, who indeed seems to be looking at him with incredible intensity. The Gothitelle turns to the man in the dark coat and stares at him for a few moments, and the man nods as if the ladylike Pokemon had communicated something to him.

    "The man with the Totodile is with me," he says, briefly giving Bill a rather strange look. The security guard seems skeptical, and turns to Bill; "Is'sat so?" He asks, his mouth curling into a bit of a sneer before biting into a rather greasy-looking taco.

    How will Bill respond?


    Strange things are happening much more so than Bill anticipated. All this change in surroundings, everything looking more new and so on had Bill question just what was going on. This wasn't just your typical haunting, where ghosts would just move objects around. No, this was more than that. Even music started playing outside, not standard fair music like he expected, more like...a taco truck? Were there even taco trucks back then? Either way, Bill knew that something was amiss and headed up the stairs, only to be pushed aside by some rather rude men in uniform. Almost on cue, there was a lot of screaming sounding upstairs, and Bill knew this was no coincidence. He quickly followed them up.

    Unfortunately, Bill's answer was about to be impeded by a police officer stopping him. Before Bill could object, not that it'd do him good, a strange man and his Gothitelle appeared. The Gothitelle gave Bill a once over, most likely a telepathic picking of the brain, before communicating to its trainer, or at least Bill assumed that he was its trainer. This guy at least opened a window of opportunity for the young trainer. Normally, Bill would jump at it, but something seemed off. What reason could this man, this stranger, have for helping him? Is all this just an illusion? Question after question flooded Bill's mind, but just standing around wouldn't help.

    "Yeah," Bill said with a slight smile. "I'm with him." Maybe the man would be as incompetent at reading lies as he seemed to be with doing his job. At least the man didn't seem all that concerned with whatever it was that was happening upstairs. Even if this strange guy was as suspicious to Bill as Bill was to the officer, he could see if he can find a motive after they had left earshot of the officer.

    Besides, there is the possibility that if this were an illlusionary haunting that this guy is really a friendly ghost; it's not like all spectral forces were malicious, after all. Gold followed suit and nodded his head towards the officer as well.
    Last edited by Cyber Robert; 26th June 2013 at 4:03 AM.

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  13. #313
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    Default People Have Many Fears, Which One Shall Be Yours?

    Apologies for the long wait, all. Between moving and trying to find a job and pneumonia it's been hard to find the time.

    -----

    myahoo: - Your soul lingers here...

    -----

    Marion Ette: - Your soul lingers here...

    -----

    Yougirasu: Your mind begins to race as you spot the words carved into the mirror. "Won't you play with me?" It was just sitting there, taunting you, the words carved fresh in the otherwise pristine mirror. As you think you instinctively begin to pace, keeping an eye on the words at all times as you do so. Both paths seemed to stretch on forever now, and this mirror was the only thing different. Your mind quickly became filled with doubts, was whatever was leaving this message truly wanting to play, or were their intentions more... sinister? More anxiety slowly builds, welling up inside you until you just cannot take it any longer. You close your eyes and shout at whatever it is leaving you these message, and your arm swings. You know even with your eyes closed and your head filled with rage the exact place your fist lands.

    ...but as you open your eyes you look back at the mirror. It's cracked plenty now, with your fist firmly planted in the center, the lines breaking out from the edges of those haunting words. As you pull your hand back you're surprised at the lack of pain, and upon closer inspection, and damage at all, despite the many shards of glass created by the punch. You don't have long to think about it, though, before the lights at either end of the hallway begin to fizzle out and go dark. One by one the lights continue to fizzle and the darkness closes in on you, and as you look back and forth frantically between both ends of the hall you know it will catch you. The lights fall until only the one directly above you remains, and as it begins to fizzle you gulp and lock eyes with your reflection in the cracked mirror.

    But something is wrong. In the dimming light your reflection still bears a resemblance to you, but its mouth is caught wide in a maliciously toothy grin. The arms and legs seem to hang limp from the body of your reflection and you quickly notice the red ring around its neck. Just before everything goes dark you make eye contact one last time and your reflection begins to mouth something. You don't have any doubt in your mind as to the five words the mouth makes. "Won't you play with me?" And the light gives out, surrendering you to utter darkness.

    And then the drop. You don't know how or why, but you find yourself falling in the darkness. Not as though the floor has given out, but instead as if it was never even there. The words echo through the darkness as you fall, becoming quieter and quieter with each repetition. You are unsure where you're going but one thing is certain. This game is just beginning.

    ...whatever shall you do?

    -----

    Jerichi: Attempting to leave the key behind you find yourself rather puzzled as it suddenly chucks itself at your feet. A closer inspection as you lean down reveals nothing of import, and you shrug off the odd occurrence before reaching out and picking up the dirty old key and continuing to look around.

    The area behind the receptionist the hotel ledger sits. A quick glance at some of the dates reveals that nobody has been here for years, the dates running back to the day of the accident in the park. But your eye becomes caught on the last entry in the ledger, and for good reason.

    Name: Jerald Chih

    Most of the remaining fields of the entry are oddly smudged, despite every other line in the book being able to be read crystal clear. Among the unreadable fields are the room number as well as the date and time of check in. Only a single number can be read for the check in date, and that would be the year. Or at least, you think it's the year, given it's four digits, but it cannot possibly be correct, having been over a decade ago. The single other field that is not smudged is the check out date. But there are no numbers here. Instead, there is simply a bold, decisive line drawn through the box.

    The implications are somewhat misleading, but it quickly becomes apparent as to the meaning as the doors of the hotel lobby slam shut, and the well lit room darkens somewhat. Even the calming music is playing along, slowing down and deepening in pitch. And despite the ominous events things still seem... safe. But perhaps that's just due to the reason you came to the hotel originally slowly catching up to you as your eyelids are beginning to feel a bit heavy.

    ...whatever shall you do?

    -----

    Escalion: Welcome to my group, as previously stated I am so very sorry about the wait.

    As you arrive on Phantom Isle and step off of the boat, you slowly make your way towards the entrance of the park, all the while airing your intent to seek out the specters rumored to live within. Just outside of the gates you open your map and take a look at the attractions. Nothing that would normally catch the eye of someone your age seems to interest you, and when you make note of the Fortune Teller's Tent you quickly decide to head there. Where better to search for something you believe to be fake than in the lair of another false object, after all?

    The tent lies fairly deep into the park, and as you make your way to it you notice something odd about the rest of the attractions. As you begin to approach each one it slowly begins to light up, some even going so far as to play their music and run the rides. But, as you pass each and every one, they slowly turn off their lights and sounds, in a manner that makes them seem almost dejected. Shrugging it off, you eventually find your way to the Fortune Teller's Tent. But as you approach, there are no signs of life to the tent, no flashing lights nor music playing. But you suppose that is to be expected from such a place. Entering, you notice the room is well kept despite the long time it has been since the park closing, with not a single cobweb nor particle of dust plaguing the tent. Your eyes are immediately drawn to the one bright object in the tent, a crystal ball sitting squarely on the center table, lighting the room as an ominous fog seemingly swirls inside of it. Shadows of other objects dance around the room, but as you look at the ball from the entrance you see something moving within. Unable to get a clear view it is apparent you will need to get closer in order to see the object the ball is portraying to you.

    ...whatever shall you do?

    -----

    Arc_Angel: Glad to have you in my group. I hope my haunting tale lives up to your standards of scary.

    As you make your way slowly to the the entrance of your park, staring up in awe at the magnificent gates of this once proud place of joy now turned sour, your Pokemon quickly race off ahead of you, seemingly looking for something in specific. You find yourself passing many well known rides, all of them looking more and more enticing to you, but Pyrexia and Pandora press onward eagerly. There is one attraction that stops you quickly in your tracks, though. Through the dark and torn fabric of the Fortune Teller's Tent you spy a glowing light, seemingly calling out to you from within. You take a step towards it before you suddenly hear your ghostly duo cry out in joy. Turning to face them your eyes widen as you catch sight of what the two have been looking for. The Ghost Train, site of the terrible accident that caused the park to be shut down and run to disrepair. Turning your head back towards the tent the light has gone, and you shrug before casting aside your doubts and heading towards the queue of the ride your Pokemon are so eager to check out. A few ominous words leave your lips and seemingly only cause the two to become more excited.

    The walk up to the tracks is a long one, and even the queue itself seems to be fallen into a poor state. Ropes are cut in some places, burnt in others, likely from pranksters looking to have a good time. But the metal bars forming the lines are more disturbing, some of them bent off in jagged points, forcing you to sidestep them carefully to prevent any accidental injury. The final steps up to the station are oddly pristine, though, and you strangely get the same feeling you would when walking up the stairs of a church. This place was hallowed ground to the spirits here, and it's likely anyone attempting to disturb it never got very far.

    As you reach the top of the steps and take a look around the area, it seems the cleanest place in the park. In fact, if you didn't know better you'd expect to be able to hop on the train yourself and go for a ride. There is no train car, however, likely instead it is still buried deep within the cave where it crashed. You stare into the darkness, it seems to call to you, even, and just when you're about to look away the same bright light from the Fortune Teller's Tent shines from within, if only for a moment, before quickly fading away.

    ...whatever shall you do?

  14. #314
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    Quote Originally Posted by Sneasel12 View Post
    Arc_Angel: Glad to have you in my group. I hope my haunting tale lives up to your standards of scary.

    As you make your way slowly to the the entrance of your park, staring up in awe at the magnificent gates of this once proud place of joy now turned sour, your Pokemon quickly race off ahead of you, seemingly looking for something in specific. You find yourself passing many well known rides, all of them looking more and more enticing to you, but Pyrexia and Pandora press onward eagerly. There is one attraction that stops you quickly in your tracks, though. Through the dark and torn fabric of the Fortune Teller's Tent you spy a glowing light, seemingly calling out to you from within. You take a step towards it before you suddenly hear your ghostly duo cry out in joy. Turning to face them your eyes widen as you catch sight of what the two have been looking for. The Ghost Train, site of the terrible accident that caused the park to be shut down and run to disrepair. Turning your head back towards the tent the light has gone, and you shrug before casting aside your doubts and heading towards the queue of the ride your Pokemon are so eager to check out. A few ominous words leave your lips and seemingly only cause the two to become more excited.

    The walk up to the tracks is a long one, and even the queue itself seems to be fallen into a poor state. Ropes are cut in some places, burnt in others, likely from pranksters looking to have a good time. But the metal bars forming the lines are more disturbing, some of them bent off in jagged points, forcing you to sidestep them carefully to prevent any accidental injury. The final steps up to the station are oddly pristine, though, and you strangely get the same feeling you would when walking up the stairs of a church. This place was hallowed ground to the spirits here, and it's likely anyone attempting to disturb it never got very far.

    As you reach the top of the steps and take a look around the area, it seems the cleanest place in the park. In fact, if you didn't know better you'd expect to be able to hop on the train yourself and go for a ride. There is no train car, however, likely instead it is still buried deep within the cave where it crashed. You stare into the darkness, it seems to call to you, even, and just when you're about to look away the same bright light from the Fortune Teller's Tent shines from within, if only for a moment, before quickly fading away.

    ...whatever shall you do?
    I look forward to whatever you have planned for me, thanks again for taking me on.

    Stacey found herself staring into the abyss, the mouth of the Ghost Train gaping open in a enormous yawn, or it could be a roar and even at a distance it was impressive. She stared entranced by the eerie atmosphere as her young ghosts stared up at her wide grins on their faces at her demeanour. They had hardly seen the darker side of her and it was interesting to say the least. Snapping out of it Stacey started to walk towards the queue with her Litwick bouncing by her side and her Yamask floating by her head. The walk leading up to the tracks was longer than she first thought. The ropes were broken and frayed and some were burnt to a crisp, mindless vandalism it would seem. The metal bars supporting the ropes were snapped and bent into dangerous points that threatened to do some serious damage should she walk too close by them. Stacey was very careful as she walked through the maze of metal watching as Pyrexia easily bounced around the dangers and Pandora floated above and the two got a little too keen and moved on ahead; but one stern cough from Stacey had them halting in their tracks. As she reached the steps leading to the tracks were pristine in comparison, like a lot of time and care had been taken to keep them in this condition.

    Stacey stopped at the base of the steps looking down at them warily, feeling like she was about to tread on hallowed ground. Her Pokemon were less concerned however and moved on ahead and rolling her eyes she sighed and continued up after them. As she looked down at the tracks and the platform she realised that it was equally as fresh and clean up here too, almost as if the ride was brand new. There was no car to ride in, most likely buried deep within the ride from where it crashed. Pyrexia and Pandora stared into the tunnel with awe and chatted excitedly amongst themselves most likely plotting something nefarious.

    Stacey walked up to them staring deep into the tunnel feeling that tug again and fighting against it this time. Too many times had she let her guard down and too many times had she and her Pokemon suffered for it. She began to look away from the tunnel when she saw a flash of light from within. She gasped and turned back spotting the warm glow before it faded away. It looked so much like the light from the Fortune Teller's Tent, the light that had drawn her almost away from this destination. She gave a small grin, it was ironic, it seemed that something wanted her to walk down the tunnel. It was as if it was searching within her mind and luring her in. She sighed, oh well, if something wanted her to explore the Ghost Train, then explore she would but she wouldn't be alone. She jumped down to the tracks and walked over to her Pokemon almost startling them out of their plotting.

    "Whatever you two are planning it can't be good," she said and her Pokemon looked sheepish. "We had better keep our wits about us and keep your plan handy, we may need it. Come on, lets go see what lies within." Stacey walked ahead of them before they realised and they quickly moved to follow her grinning at the thought of all the ghoulies they may encounter.


    ~Stace and Imp. A Perfect Pair~
    FB : PC : DT

  15. #315
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    Quote Originally Posted by enchantress View Post
    The Hotel
    Situated at the back of the theme park is a grand hotel where guests and their Pokémon stayed whilst visiting. The ground floor has the usual areas such as lobby, restaurant, boutique, and entertainment room, while the downstairs levels house a storeroom and very special casino for its patrons. The hotel is still very active but its guests are far different than you might be used to encountering. The eight upper floors containing the suites are more often than not inhabited by spirits, some being those who perished in the fateful incident that closed the park. Some are restless not realising they are dead, and some are harmless, while others are not. Wander around the hotel and you may find more than you'd bargained for.

    Areas:
    Entertainment Room: A place for visitors to unwind after spending a long day wandering around the park. A pool table is it's central focal point, although there are several arcade machines lining the walls as well as many tables set out with board games for children to play. Tron and Jumanji are child's play compared to what goes on in here nowadays.
    OoC: I'm writing this intro as a continuation and jumping board from my AR story that had no end. If you want me to change it please let me know by PM.

    Proof of me passing the AR and my stats.

    With his tired weary eyes a young man stumbled his way on the islands mainland. His jeans drenched knee deep in sea water, scorched leather jacket covered in dirt and with his sand covered combat boots on hand; he walked forward desperately wishing to get out of his wet clothes and take a hot shower.

    With everything that happened in Mediville, Ethan couldn't find any clues connecting to the man who bombed the train or even why the Solosis that attacked him had a black band around it's body...The worst of it was the authorities, suspecting him of setting it off in the first place...he may have been a thief but a terrorists was a whole other story. Naturally he fled.

    But…he could only get so far; with a freak storm throwing him off course and now…he seemed to be in a deserted amusement park.

    A thick fog covering most of the land, giving off an eerie impression with very little light coming threw…Ethan walked up to the grand hotel took in the size and luxurious old look the building still seemed to have over who knows how many years. Walking through the lobby he felt a sudden chill that made his skin crawl before yelling out "Anybody in here?!" and sighing "of course not.." he mumbled.

    He looked around and noticed a set of keys hanging behind the counter. But before walking toward it to take one, he noticed a glow coming from a room by the side, with intrigue the boy walked over and entered an Arcade Room. Fumbling through his pocket he figured he had enough change for a game or two…but which one?
    Last edited by Electric Blue Eye; 19th May 2014 at 8:35 PM. Reason: Adding in a new link to me passing the AR

  16. #316
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    Quote Originally Posted by enchantress View Post

    The Park
    Despite the lack of human activity in the park during its closure, it seems those from the realm of the dead are quite active in these parts. All of the popular rides remain the same as they were prior to the ghost train event, but over time they seem to have become populated by very unsavoury characters in the form of spectres, poltergeists, and even some of the more mischievous Pokémon who want to manipulate anyone brave enough to enter such a place. If you dare to venture here, you'd best have your wits about you.


    The stench in the air was similar to a blooming flower of the rafflesia family, mixed in with overripe meat with maggot waste and sewage poured on top. At least, that's what Austin was told as the guide ran away from the park after showing him the entrance. Smell wasn't the strongest of his senses, and his mask acted as another filter, causing most aromas to never get the excitement of entering his nose. He felt a weight shift on his head, and then the small murmuring of a squirrel. Hopping next to him was a small candle, the small flame atop its head getting increasingly... violent. The teenager walked up to the gates, feeling the weight of Kai once again shift as the Pachirisu started to tightly (at this point he felt Kai's claws digging into his skin) grip at his trainer's head. A small giggle came out of Wisp as he floated up to watch the electric type. This small laugh caused Kai to start bawling, and Wisp quickly going to console the squirrel. Austin ignored his Pokemons' antics as he went past the gate, hearing the creeks and squeaks as he walked through.

    The park was in good condition for being abandoned by the realm of of the living. Austin was a little impressed by how the dead kept the park in a somewhat good condition. He continued walking, oblivious to the chattering electric type on his head and the Litwick orbiting it. He had one destination in mind, the Ghost Train. Apparently it was the cause of the park closing down a few years ago, but Austin had not memory of hearing about it. Perhaps it was before the fire? He didn't know for certain, but he felt drawn to this place for some reason...

    "It'll only be for a week!" he heard a young voice speak through his head. He gripped his head, causing Kai to almost fall off. Was that... a memory? No, it must have been his imagination.

    "But... What if it was?" he murmured to himself, continuing to walk through the park. He noticed Wisp return to the ground, his soul fire acting crazy.

    "Wisp, is everything okay?" Austin asked, a bit worried. He was met with a burp as a response.

    "Wisp, that's rude," the trainer scolded his Pokemon, but couldn't help laughing at the same time.

    He then picked up Kai from his head, much to the Pachirisu's chagrin, and set the squirrel down on the ground. He continued walking on, scratching and molding his hair to what it was before it become a squirrel's nest. The park itself didn't seem that eerie, just old and decrepit. A few overturned trashcans, decaying signs and buildings, and foliage starting to grow. However, there was one thing that stood out. The Ghost Train.


    Ghost Train: Enter if you dare - The Ghost Train, the site of the disaster responsible for the closure of the theme park. Ghostly visits from children lost are reported to have scared many a construction crew away from this site while some of the strongest and darkest Pokémon of all are rumoured to dwell within the burnt out remains of this once popular ride.
    The charred remains of the ride caused a certain feeling of ecstasy to come to the pyromaniac's mind. The fire must have been... beautiful. Even if it was the destruction the park, it must have been an awe inspiring sight to see. He looked over to his left, and saw Wisp's flame twitch and write as the Litwick tried to keep it under control. Something was wrong here... Austin felt it. Kai further helped add to that, with the small squirrel curling up on his trainer's foot and shaking. Whatever was here... Austin wanted to find out.

    "Alright boys... Let's have some fun," he said with a small smirk, a demonic chortle escaping his mouth. This was going to be a wonderful day...


    $>300
    Last edited by enchantress; 23rd March 2016 at 4:08 AM.


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  17. #317
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    Quote Originally Posted by enchantress View Post
    Phantom Isle
    The Haunted Theme Park

    The Hotel
    [size=1]Situated at the back of the theme park is a grand hotel where guests and their Pokémon stayed whilst visiting. The ground floor has the usual areas such as lobby, restaurant, boutique, and entertainment room, while the downstairs levels house a storeroom and very special casino for its patrons. The hotel is still very active but its guests are far different than you might be used to encountering. The eight upper floors containing the suites are more often than not inhabited by spirits, some being those who perished in the fateful incident that closed the park. Some are restless not realising they are dead, and some are harmless, while others are not. Wander around the hotel and you may find more than you'd bargained for.

    For several decades this remote theme park was a popular tourist attraction for people of all ages. Starting as a small fairground it was built into the land's largest and most sought after family holiday destination, the entire island eventually converted into one enormous theme park incorporating hundreds of rides, entertainment venues, and showcases. Contests were held, friendly trainer battles took place, children were even allowed to hire Pokémon for the day to either keep them company or to battle with in special kiddie events. When the park became so popular that families wished to stay longer than a single day in order to experience everything there was to offer, a grand hotel was built offering special and affordable deals for families and trainers alike. Then one day, several years ago and during the height of the theme park's popularity, a devastating fire on the Ghost Train responsible for the deaths of several adults, trainers, and dozens of children, closed the fairground to the public. Reconstruction work began immediately, but after many unexplained happenings involving serious injury, and in a few cases the death of construction workers, the repairs were put on hold. The spooky events continued long after, with many curious trespassers, as well as the security guards hired to keep them away, disappearing, never to be seen again, or turning up on the mainland frightened out of their wits with no memory of why, or of how they got there. Any and all attempts at reconstruction have since failed, leaving the theme park shrouded in an aura of darkness and mystery. As a result very few dared to venture here, the stench of death and misery allowing the theme park to become a breeding ground for the darker side of the Pokémon world. As supernatural activity in the deserted park increased, a strange purple haze began to appear until eventually the entire island was surrounded by it resulting in a permanent state of darkness shrouding it as natural light was unable to properly filter through. This of course deterred even more people from approaching the area as they deemed it far too dangerous. In recent weeks, however, some rather bizarre events are rumoured to be taking place, and as word spreads of the park once again being open, only now run by ghosts, the theme park has been renamed "The Phantom Isle". Now, some of the more daring adventurers in the land have been contemplating returning to the park to discover for themselves if there is indeed any truth to these amazing stories.

    Areas:
    The Lobby: Upon entering the hotel's main doors, you reach a marble-floored lobby with a check-in desk and huge chandeliers that flicker ominously. Behind the desk lies most of the keys to the various hotels rooms, but an unseen power prevents you from taking more than one at a time. A lone elevator sits at one end, leading up to the rest of the rooms or down to the storeroom and casino.


    “What a glamorous entry way for the hotel” those were the first words uttered by the trainer. The glitz exuded by the hotel lobby only adds to the charm of staying here for the night. Aposteriori is restless at the moment, but he cannot pinpoint what exactly is making him uncomfortable. There is a bunch of cobwebs floating around. Maybe the lobby needs more maintenance for his taste.

    “Hello? Is anyone here?” The counter is currently vacated, and it seems to have a persistent phone ring. At this point, Aposteriori starts to feel uncomfortable. Maybe it is the wait, maybe it is the gut feeling he is getting about the lobby. He has been watching a lot of television lately. He wonders if this place has a countess analog to the role that Lady Gaga played over at American Horror Story. Man, was that a fun series to watch.
    Moving around the lobby, he notices a drink by the small bar. It is freshly poured, but no one is drinking it. “This is odd, why is this drink unattended. Things are not adding up.” At the end of the day, it could just be that the people attending the area are in the back or something. Everything is possible. Then he starts to notice some of the lamps have the lights flicker at a specific time. They feel synchronized. The blinking feels unnatural, and manipulated. This starts to make the trainer feel sweaty. “Oh boy, what is going on in here? Is anyone here? I would like to stay the night please!” Aposteriori starts to yell out in the middle of the lobby.

    For many years, the researcher has heard about spirits roaming around the hotel, he would like to write about his findings inside the hotel. He is always excited to see what he finds. Maybe humans turn into spirits too. Aposteriori has heard about that, and that is both spooky and thrilling to investigate at the same time.

    On to his initial purpose, the trainer might able to get some rest, and is perfectly fine by him as he approaches the counter once more. Who knows what awaits ahead. Maybe someone will finally answer his plight for a room.



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    $>300
    Last edited by enchantress; 23rd March 2016 at 3:45 AM.

  18. #318
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    Quote Originally Posted by enchantress View Post
    The Lobby: Upon entering the hotel's main doors, you reach a marble-floored lobby with a check-in desk and huge chandeliers that flicker ominously. Behind the desk lies most of the keys to the various hotels rooms, but an unseen power prevents you from taking more than one at a time. A lone elevator sits at one end, leading up to the rest of the rooms or down to the storeroom and casino.
    ((Feel free to prioritize other people over me, I've been around for a while.))

    Luther C. Helford once again entered the Hotel he'd grown so fond of over the years. He'd been to Phantom Isle several times before, drawn to the inherent darkness of the place. Few ares in Fizzy Bubbles were as charged with mystical energies as this, and it made it all the more simple for him to sync with his Pokemon. As if the darkness over their own hearts resonated with the spirits that dwelled on the Isle and ere amplified for his reading. He knew of few other places where his partners felt more comfortable than amidst the shadows of Phantom Island.

    However, something tells me this stay won'tbe as uneventful as past ones of mine. Nor would I want it to be.

    Whereas he frequently resorted to this Hotel as a means to escape the troubles of everyday life, the stress of a high-profile businessman's life or the hassles pertaining to the human laws he cared so little about, this time he came with a different purpose altogether.

    I have no interest in the local Ghosts - those are creatures of the past, whose time on this Earth expired despite their refusal to leave. It's the Dark that amuses me, the unquenchable needs of these Pokemon us humans have taken to calling "Dark-Types" simply because they chase after their desires. No, I did not come here to hunt ghosts at all...

    He approached the counter as he always did. There was nobody behind it, but that too was usual fare. In due time, he'd be tended to.

    - I come to seek spirits in need. My Pokemon grow restless with lack of hostility; if we can be of service to any of you, make yourselves heard!

    His voice, usually low-pitched and strangely soothing, took on an unusual intensity as he addressed the ghosts in the lobby. There was always a troubled soul looking to settle unfinished business in he material world; Luther saw to take advantage of those spirits to give his Dark-Types a chance to do what they did best.


    $>300
    Last edited by enchantress; 26th March 2016 at 2:56 AM.

  19. #319
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    Quote Originally Posted by enchantress View Post
    Phantom Isle
    The Haunted Theme Park

    The Park
    Despite the lack of human activity in the park during its closure, it seems those from the realm of the dead are quite active in these parts. All of the popular rides remain the same as they were prior to the ghost train event, but over time they seem to have become populated by very unsavoury characters in the form of spectres, poltergeists, and even some of the more mischievous Pokémon who want to manipulate anyone brave enough to enter such a place. If you dare to venture here, you'd best have your wits about you.

    Areas:
    The Funhouse: The name speaks for itself, though the fun you'll have might not be the sort of fun you are acquainted with. A strange entity exists in the building which seems to emanate evil from the walls and floors, causing even the most nimble of trainers to have trouble keeping their balance in the various rooms.
    Phantom Island was a part of the Fizzytopia region seldom explored by Trainers, and not without reason. The abandoned amusement park had quite the reputation for being haunted, a reputation what that kept away all but the most fearless of Trainers. One such Trainer one might describe as fearless was approaching the theme park in question right now, riding an equally fearless Pokémon. The Pokémon in question was Salazar, a Scolipede, albeit a Scolipede whose body was a dark shade of grey normally reserved for Shiny Charizard, and whose eyes were a bright, piercing shade of red. This unusual color scheme gave the Scolipede a distinctly awesome appearance. And the Trainer, one Keith Masters, didn't look too bad himself. He was clad in his usual clothing- black t-shirt, red and white sleeveless jacket, blue jeans, sneakers- but most prominently, his trademark cowboy hat, with a Key Stone set prominently into the front of it. Together, Keith and his Scolipede rode into the theme park, neither of them looking especially terrified.

    The Meowth on Keith's shoulder, on the other hand, that was a whole other swarm of Yanma.

    "Is youse serious?" Meowth demanded, as angrily as he could muster, given how fearful he looked. "Phantom Island?! Wat possessed youse ta tink comin' to an abandoned haunted theme park was a good idea?!"

    Keith shrugged, nearly jostling Meowth off his shoulder in the process. "I was bored," he replied. "Needed a change of pace."

    "Ya know wat else makes a change of pace? Nice, safe tings!" Meowth exclaimed. "Not haunted amusement parks filled wit murderous ghosts!"

    "And just what is that sup-posed to mean, hmm?" demanded a voice behind both Keith and Meowth. "Sug-ges-ting that I am no match for these mur-der-ous ghosts, hmmm?"

    "Myrtle, I think we all know you're a match for those murderous ghosts," Keith said, not even looking back at the Banette floating behind them.

    "I am not con-vinced Me-owth knows this, Meat Sack," Myrtle snapped, glaring at the Normal-type, who glared back at her.

    "OK, cool it, the both of you, or so help me, I'll turn this Scolipede around and- what am I saying?" he interrupted himself, realizing that if anything, this would get Meowth to behave even worse. "OK, lemme rephrase that. Meowth, cool it or you're going back in the ball. Myrtle, cool it or you're not gonna go up against any murderous ghosts."

    Meowth clammed up at once- much as this park freaked him out, he'd choose it over his Poké Ball, and Keith knew it, too. Myrtle, however, flew around Keith's head, her face an inch from his. "Are you im-ply-ing you can stop me, Meat Sack?" she demanded.

    "No," shrugged Keith. "I'm saying it outright. There's a difference."

    Myrtle said nothing in response. She merely shot Keith one final glare, then flew up and landed on Salazar's head, looking out for the funhouse they were currently headed towards. Keith smirked- Myrtle never admitted when Keith had her beat, but the fact that she simply stopped talking at such points more or less said it all anyway. This, he felt, was going to be an interesting adventure.


    $>300
    Last edited by enchantress; 26th March 2016 at 2:27 AM.

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  20. #320
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    Quote Originally Posted by enchantress View Post
    Phantom Isle
    The Haunted Theme Park

    The Park
    Despite the lack of human activity in the park during its closure, it seems those from the realm of the dead are quite active in these parts. All of the popular rides remain the same as they were prior to the ghost train event, but over time they seem to have become populated by very unsavoury characters in the form of spectres, poltergeists, and even some of the more mischievous Pokémon who want to manipulate anyone brave enough to enter such a place. If you dare to venture here, you'd best have your wits about you.

    Areas:

    Ghost Train: Enter if you dare - The Ghost Train, the site of the disaster responsible for the closure of the theme park. Ghostly visits from children lost are reported to have scared many a construction crew away from this site while some of the strongest and darkest Pokémon of all are rumoured to dwell within the burnt out remains of this once popular ride.


    There was something to be said when the news of an influx of newcomers to Fizzytopia coincided with rumours that the old theme park known as Phantom Isle appeared to show signs of life, or unlife given the circumstances surrounding the locale. Indeed, that both chunks of news arrived to Alex Blackhall almost simultaneously would not be considered mere coincidence. And yet, here he was, on an old dock having taken a small boat to the park, interested by the place. Even as he talked with the boatman, who seemed as though he was going to fall apart anytime mentally, hearing the sad tale of the park's history, it only filled him with a sense of adventure of sorts.

    As he took his first few steps onto the creaky timbers, he turned to thank the man for the lift, only to find the boat and contents had vanished, only a few small insects fluttering around remaining. Juvenile Yanma, by the looks of things. Ignoring them, the young man trudged to the gates of the park, and paused for an instant, before pulling a ball from his belt, releasing the contents.

    The discussion on who wanted to come along was simple enough. His Infernape and Aipom said no, as did his Honchkrow, claiming that someone had to stick around at base to keep an eye on things. The Lunatone was adamant he would never set a proverbial foot in a ghost-riddled locale, and he wasn't taking his Starly, Horsea or Nidoran either. In the end, with six volunteers, he departed. One of those volunteers stood by him currently.

    Paine was a curiosity to Alex. The Gothorita didn't show much in the way of emotion, and followed him quite clearly, without question, in the same vein a machine would. However, there was more to the seemingly mute psychic pokemon than meets the eye, and he was somewhat sure a trip to a place such as this would help uncover the mysteries of the gothically-themed humanoid.

    She raised her arm, gazing around the surroundings, before moving it across a few locales. The rollercoaster. She shook her head. This would not end well for any of them. The Mantine Mania water slide. Another shake of her head. She wasn't good on water vessels. The house of mirrors. "No," Alex blurted out immediately, a horrible shiver crawling down his spine as patchy thoughts entered his head, a glass serpent, his own inner demons, a vicious smile of a burnt and bloodied treant.

    A burnt out building was fourth, the Gothorita pausing, reading the air seemingly. Alex had heard of the ghost train and the tragedy that befell it, a strange fire killing dozens and the lively soul of the park. He didn't want any part of that, but at the same time something within him stirred, an idea of curiosity, a spark that wouldn't snuff out. There was something about this shell that drew him towards it, and as he nodded slowly, the Gothorita gave a small chime, the only sounds she was capable of producing, as the two of them approached the scene of a tragedy that was so far unsolved.


    $>300
    Last edited by enchantress; 23rd March 2016 at 4:22 AM.


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  21. #321
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    (Mwahaha, welcome to my park, guys and gals. I will be your reaper and host for the remainder of your stay. Should any of you be dissatisfied about the results of your visit, please feel free to inform my secretary. *points to a dead Rattata on the desk* Now let’s get started.)

    ~Please reply in Slategray~

    The Park

    Funhouse
    Missingo Master:

    Your Scolipede hurled along the asphalt with single determination. In earlier days the paths would have been bustling with activity of families standing in line, clowns blowing up balloons and cotton candy dispensers working overtime. Now, the wide breadth served only as your Scolipede’s personal fastlane. It made another corner as it circled a pile of debris. Nothing seemed to want to slow it down, not even the strange purple mist that should have warranted a careful trot.

    Your mind was on running on similar tracks when it came to the disregard for safety. You had heard of the stories surrounding the island; ghosts operating the scarred amusement rides, some of which their visitors never returned from, but had met your share of ghosts before and remained unworried of that fact. The Banette that floated by Salazar’s tail was the unliving proof of that. It had been a while since anything new crept from the shadows at you though. The various adventures of enraged Slakings and Frontier Battle rooms all became a drag and a bit the same after a while. That’s why you decided to shake things up for yourself and see if that stalwart mind of yours was what it used to be, something your Meowth would call you crazy for. He could have stayed at home but the cat Pokémon tagged along with you nearly anywhere, even if he objected to your ideas of fun, openly, due to the rumours of vicious ghosts spreading their deadly state to whoever crossed their path.

    Your Banette took the objection as a sign of insult. She herself was a ghost after all, and an experienced one at that - if anything, the ghosts would have her to worry about. The two argue but are quickly cut down by their trainer. Your Banette though, giving a last grudging glow at you before gliding to the Scolipede’s head as look-out.

    The strange building that was the Funhouse came into a dim view in the distance. The house was an odd, white, wooden, obtuse, slanted, twisting, jagged, unevenly reassembled chamber that was scratched with pastel colours and attached to four similar containers in a manner much like Lego bricks couldn’t. A toddler’s drawing come to life was the first thing that came to mind. Immediate need for deconstruction was the second. Though you suppose its laughable exterior was the point of the design. Against the backdrop of greyed-out terrain and purple mist though, the place had the appearance of an ill-begotten castle surrounded by a moat of deadly fog. The friendly place had gained an edge of terror that struck anyone caught looking at it.

    The irregular shape of the building leaned over you as you came up close. Even the lime-green door was slanted at an angle, and unfortunately for Salazar, made to accommodate the average sized human. It would appear he couldn’t enter through the door with you, or at least not outside his Pokéball. A large signpost of warnings and safety precautions stood by the entrance side. Some of the grime covering it was wiped away, probably by a previous visitor you think (perhaps hope). The details of the house were the five rooms one could enjoy, all seemingly connected in a way that was kept a secret from the visitors for entertainment purposes.
    Living Room
    Hallway
    Bedroom
    Stairwell
    Bathroom

    “I see you’ve taken to visit the Funhouse,” chuckles a voice behind you. It was not human what you saw when you faced the voice, but it had the vague shape of something akin to a human. Yellow skin, white mane and large pointy ears between which a top hat rested. The creature bent forward, supported by his smooth cane. “It certainly is one of our most playful enterprises. Play is such an important part of life; wouldn’t you agree?” Your various adventures aided you and you instantly recognised it as being a Pokémon, one that could talk.


    “Ohohoho, you’re not surprised by my ability to talk, are you?” He looks at Meowth and Myrtle in turn, “it’s certainly been a while since I last met Pokémon that could talk like I do.” (Was he eavesdropping on you?) “How refreshing.” He smiles at all of you in as much a way a Hypno could.

    He hums to himself and strokes his mane as he looks you over. “Hmm.” He holds his hands on both ends of his cane in front of him, and then closes them. In a magician’s trick, the cane vanished between his hands. After opening them, his left hand blew purple flames which he held in his palm face-up. A small black box materialised inside which he delicately gripped in his hand. “Now then,” he says, the flames still licking his fingers that caged them. “Ordinarily I would give our visitors this remote as a gift. But you on the other hand, I think I can give a choice.” He holds out his right palm and a similar violet flame shot out. Another black box appeared in his hand after which the flames receded into his skin to uncover them. “Would you like the remote, or the walkie-talkie?” he looks at you questioningly. They weren’t real, you could tell. They were made of a cheap, plastic material and had most of their buttons painted on.

    The Hypno asks you one last time. “Which toy would you prefer to take with you?”

    How do you respond?


    Mantine Mania
    Gemini Spark:

    Delilah could only look onto her trainer in a mix of despair and concern. ’Was this their limit? Was all they had come through for naught?’ she asked herself as she looked upon her trainer who remained in his anguished state, clutching his head in pain until finally, tears streamed down his cheek. She couldn’t let her trainer down, not after what they’ve managed to accomplish; the Whale Island, the battle with an Espeon. If this was their limit, were they destined to become part of something bigger all along, and remain forgotten forever? ‘No’, she thought. In the absence of hope in Hyrem, his Pokémon took it upon herself to fill that void and show what they had left to fight back with. Her orbs glowed with renewed vigour and glowed brighter and brighter until engulfing her entire body to shine a bright light that caused her body to thicken and her tail to develop.

    Hyrem remained in his state of turmoil until he noticed the rays of light shining through his tears, and a scaly but soft skin rubbing against him. “Delilah?” he asked after folding down his hands to reveal the newly shaped Lanturn floating with her new angler in front of her. The sight of his Pokémon evolving shone a new light on his tears, and his faith. He hugged his Pokémon back, tears still streaming down his cheeks; but this time, it was for something.

    There was a renewed sense of hope that burned in the trainer’s chest, and it alleviated some of the burden on his mind, the voices now receding. With clear intent, Hyrem orders them to land a critical blow, and sent Delilah and the Frillish out, each resonating the trainer’s vigour as they swam up high to scale the wall’s length.

    The Harvester refused to let them get away. Even after witnessing the miracle that was Delilah’s evolution she remained just as determined to hold her grudge and gaze on the Frillish to deliver another Lock-Down. Delilah crossed the empty hooks that remained from the defeated eyes to swim up to those that remained, electricity cackling by her antenna and bursting into a Thunderbolt that coursed from eye to the next and then the next with near explosive power; a result of her newfound strength. The tiny Frillish rushes behind her in the distance and summons a torrent of tidal water that she Surfs across the wall’s path, washing away a host of eyes left behind by Delilah. The two exchange glances of confidence as their combined effort cleared a large section of the wall before swimming up the last that remained. The Harvester keeps her eyes locked on the blue Frillish and prepares herself for what she deemed to be the final blow. Hyrem takes note of the Harvester’s focus of attention and kicks into a dive at her, his hands extended at her costume and the many adorning eyes. Hyrem gripped the costume tightly and popped as many of them as he could, leading to the Harvester’s momentary loss of focus when she turns and shrieks at him. More eyes fly off the wall to fill in the vacant sockets while Delilah releases another bolt of energy that charged across those that were left behind. The Frillish, once more swimming behind the Lanturn, prepares a second Surf attack and sends the tide of salt water right after her ally. The Harvester turns to the blue Frillish with the help of her Lock Down and releases an even larger and brighter burst of electricity in the form of a Zap Cannon that catches the blue Frillish off guard. The Surf dies down before it finishes, leaving a plethora of undealt eyes to gaze at the Frillish who helplessly sinks to the floor. Male Frillish is KOed.

    Hyrem and Delilah look on in horror as their last ally lies at the bottom of the room, the two quickly turning their sights onto the Harvester with grit determination. The voices start culminating in Hyrem’s head once more and force him to release his grip on the Harvester. The voices of Tuner and TA, which had just died down to an echo, resurfaced together with the others that added a pounding weight to his mind. The voices were faint but many, and rang in his ears and head to remind him of the pain he had in his eyes. The pain stacked with renewed memories of having gone through this countless times before, each one from a different victim, but to Hyrem felt like they were his own. There was a sense of doubt in his sanity as he recalled his memories. Had he really gone through this before? And was all of this nothing more than some sort of reincarnative joke? He remembered the pain of Tuner as his eyes were ripped out, and the fear that settled in TA when his vision was lost, and of those countless others that had gone before them. They were all his now; each one of the curses that took a person’s eyes were his, reminding him of the sheer hopelessness of the situation. So many others had gone before him, what would make this different?

    Costume: 20/20
    Wall:15 eyes remain

    What will Hyrem do?


    The Ghost Train
    Liltwick:

    The cowardly guide runs off, leaving you to fend for yourself as you approach the park’s main gates. Your two companions stayed by your side, sort of. The Pachirisu prefers to climb and scatter his way to your head, clinging on as you stride through the parks. The land, as you noticed, was deserted and had clearly been so for a long time. There was little in the way of eeriness in the park, safe for the byzantium fog on land and the blanket of storm clouds in the unending night sky which never rained. No, most of it was dusty, overturned or cracked; nothing spiritual or ghostly about any of that. The furthest to a scare you got was from your own partner Litwick as he burps a practical joke in your face.

    Thus, you manage to reach your destination unharmed and with little difficulty, perturbed only by the lack of sight you had through the mist, but there it leaned; The Ghost Train. Having heard about this sight and being naturally attracted to the darker side of life, your sole intention was to visit the area for yourself and see it with your own two eyes. If anything was to jump out and scare you, the sight of the disaster that triggered the mystical occurrences was a good place to start - not that the initial sight could though, only making you stare in marvel at what a sight the fire would have been.

    The entire ride was built as a large mansion through which train tracks swerved, that, in its old days, used to carry its passengers past the frightening animatronics. Grey bricks climbed the walls of the place, dislodging themselves over time, while the grounds surrounding the place were planted with dead trees and bushes - though you’re not sure if that was done purposefully or as a direct result from years of abandonment. The building itself served as a grim reminder of the polarising sides of life and death, as construction was only halfway completed; one side stood in its full haunted glory while the other remained in that of a burnt-down, crumbling ruin. The two sides would have remained eternally separated from one another by the white tarp, were it not for the train tracks that had survived the fire and crawled from exit to entrance. A scaffold of ladders and plateaus gave the construction sheet its own unique, skeletal character with which to separate and stand out from both the living and lifeless borders of the building.

    It’s not soon after that you hear the familiar sounds of footsteps. Strange’’, you tell yourself. You wouldn’t think ghosts made sounds when they moved. The dull, shapeless figure of a man looms in the fog when you look back, and paces slowly towards you before stopping to stare in your direction.

    Before you can say anything, you’re interrupted by the noise of a loud whistle bellowing inside the mansion. You can hear the sounds of raining steel, pounding rhythmically and getting louder as it drew close. Red lights pour out of the collapsing tunnel to your right and become the source of another ghastly whistle. The red lights emerge out of the tunnel, followed by a cloud of black smoke and the rolling barrel of a large beast. An ear-splitting screech rings in the air and forces you to cover your ears when the figure turns its sharp corner and heads straight for you. The figure of a large skull adorned the black hunk of machinery, red lights oozing out of its sockets and onto you as it drew near. The locomotive belches a few short puffs and the wheels let out a sigh from restraining themselves. The white skull passes you, its red gaze lingering on you as it did, while the train halts to a slow standstill to let the back carriage rest by your side.

    The carriage consisted of black metal sheets held together by a framework of ivory piping, and embellished with frosted windows and rusted doors that blocked most of the view - though you were certain there was no one inside. Behind you still lies the ominous shape in the fog, which now continued its course towards you accompanied by another, smaller figure; and whose intentions remained enigmatic and potentially threatening to you.

    How do you react?


    Raves:
    Your own personal Charon didn’t have the mind for such places it seems, as he left you behind in a buzz of Yanma larvae and unfulfilled gratitude. Some of your own Pokémon had declined the invitation of coming to the island as well, perhaps out of a similar fear for the island. Not that this was a place for just anyone to drop by; you had heard glimpses of the park’s tragic history before - the boatman having filled you in on any missing details before he left you. Despite this, the story didn’t do much in the way of upset you but, rather, invoked a sense of adventure that you hadn’t felt in a long time.

    Upon reaching the gate, you call out one of your more trusted Pokémon; a Gothorita by the name of Paine. The mute Pokémon walked by your side as you moved from ride to ride, inspecting each location for you by ways of her psychic sense. At each place, either you or your Gothorita nodded your head in disapproval - There was a sense of energy in the area, you could feel it, and it turned and twisted to cause knots in your mind or stomach whenever you got close to one of these rides, but you were looking for something specific. You didn’t know what, but you were certain you’d know when you came upon it; your Gothorita would make sure of that, even if she didn’t say much.

    Then you find it: The Ghost Train. Towering out of the bank of fog was the large building that housed the train ride of mechanical ghosts and spooks, and perhaps even a few real ones. This was the right place you sensed. The unanswered question of what had happened to the burned-down ride sparked your curiosity and your Gothorita chimes in approval.

    To first thing you note in your stride towards the place is the huge white tarp covering the building’s midsection. You instantly recall the stories that had been told; of the various attempts that had been made to restore the place, only to have the workers refuse stepping fit inside after confessing sightings of ghosts and children. The construction, as was clearly visible by the diving tarp, was half done already.

    A small shadow of a figure stands atop the train station in the distance, covered by the stream of purple mist that blurred its details. It stirs and seemingly moves around as if to look directly at you before two more wisps join its side. You stop in your tracks. A small sense of fear settles in as you’re unsure of the identity or nature of the creature that kept its gaze on you.

    Before anything could happen though, the sound of deep whistle echoes from the building to attract your attention. You can hear a cacophony of metal banging onto metal and note an ominous red light piercing through the fog, blinding you where you stood. Through the glimmer though you notice the faint glimpses of black smoke enveloping the purple mist before you. Another whistle blows as if to announce the coming of the black-clad skull that ploughed out from the smoke and kept its blinding, red sight on you. The massive skull figure barrels towards you in a sequence of banging metal, whistle blowing and interrogating eyes. An eerie screech like that of a banshee rings in the air and in your ears, near forcing you to cover them, before the pounding monster turned its gaze and body away from you.

    With the light turned away from you, your vision returns and you recognise the dark skull-faced figure to be a train. It thumps the tracks below a few last times before coming to a humming standstill beside the mysterious figure. From your distance you didn’t have to think twice about what you saw: there was something incredibly off about the train. It wasn’t just the way it looked or even the fact that it was running on tracks that had been desolate for who knows how long. It was the sheer size of the thing and the impracticality at being an amusement park ride. Most carts would have been open to the environment to allow passengers to witness the interior, but this was a closed train carriage of a real train; black metal walls and roofs that an otherworldly sleek quality to them were adorned with a skeletal white lining.

    The figure had turned its attention away from you in light of the coming train, but you witness, as you continue your stride towards the place ever so carefully, the expressionless face turning its gaze back to you with neither sign of hostility or kindness.

    How do you react?

    -----

    The Hotel

    The Lobby
    Aposteriori:

    You were somewhat undeterred by the vacant park and its uninviting mist, having come to the hotel in search of the paranormal. The lobby, as you could notice at first glance, was in dire need of some custodial staff. Despite the room being covered in marble, what once would have been a marvellous sight of gleaming stone and shining light was now a dank grey of filth and had but a glim of light cast from the chandelier. Cobwebs marked every corner, with some dropping off only to be blown around in whatever faint breeze travelled by. A lone standing drink together with a rusted bell and vacancy sign were the only things that covered the otherwise dust-filled desk. A series of keys hung behind, one for every room with a few removed from their rusted nails.

    You walk over to the counter, hoping to find a friendly face to help you, and call out into the silence. “Is anyone here?” Your voice travels down the hallways and back to you, bringing with it a whisper of your own cry.

    Nothing. A faint growl from the ajar entrance is all that answers you in this deserted place.

    “I would like to stay the night please!”

    Again nothing. This time even the doors don’t answer your calls.

    You look around to see if anything was missing. There was a door beside the counter next to which a plaque read ‘Restaurant’. On one end of the corridor was another door with the plaque ‘Games Room’, on the other end was the elevator doors, practically rusted shut from lack of use.

    “Why hello.”

    Your look over your shoulder in shock to find a man-sized, yellow figure behind the reception desk, complete with top hat, ruffled white neck hair and a diamond-crested cane.


    “You wish to stay here?” he speaks with a gentlemanly hum. “Greetings, my name is Nero.” He holds up a hand to stop you from responding. “Please. Yes, I am a Pokémon, and yes, I can talk. Let’s not dwell on these matters any longer or we might be still be here next morning.” Having said that, the creature looks you over, his eyes glancing from your head down to your attire and shoes before returning back to your face with an unimpressed gaze. “We haven’t had visitors in quite a while”, he continues with a hint of surprise in his voice.

    He turns around to the keys behind him. “We have very few guests at the moment, so we’re free to choose a room that will be more accustomed to your taste.” He looks you over one more time and starts picking at the keys one by one. “Hmm, perhaps a window view. Or no, one with a king sized bed. Or perhaps one with the exquisite bathroom. A free massage is always well received though.” He continues talking out loud as he inspects each key at a time, wondering if it might be the right fit for you.

    “Dahh,” he finally utters at himself. “Of course. Why didn’t I think of that earlier? I should have the guest tell me what he wants. “After all,” he looks at you, “the guest is king.” He shakes his head in disappointment at himself. “Young man, could you help me? What type of room would you like; Large, small, refined, modest, antique? It might help if you could tell me a little about yourself.”

    He thimbles with his diamond headed cane and looks up in thought and then back down at you with shrewd eyes. His voice calms to a smooth, sinister pace. “Perhaps tell me what your goal is in life? Are you a businessman trying to conquer the world? Or an Olympic swimmer hoping to set the world record? Do you dream of claiming victory over every combatant you come by?”

    He looks at you one more time. His eyes squint even more as if trying to look through you. “Or you might tell me about your wrongdoings? What is your major vice for example? There is no shame in divulging a pet peeve - we are all but human after all. Are you arrogant and proud, envious and wrathful, or..perhaps..lustful?” He’s quiet for a second as he ponders that last bit. “I should hope not. We prefer not to accommodate such types, though we wouldn’t refuse you if you did.”

    “Of course; fears are a more primal instinct,” his voice becomes a near whisper, “and might allow me to peer deeper into your soul’s very core.” The light flicker but for a brief moment and the same faint howl growls by the door once again with a creak. The whole lobby room which creaked, urging you to answer him, felt like it had just come alive upon hearing the question. It wasn’t that there were any eyes you could see anywhere, but you could feel that something was staring at you.

    “So tell me, please, the Hypno continues, “What room would you like? What suite would match your character? It is only fitting that the room should be suited to your needs.”

    How do you answer?


    Marblezone:
    Ghosts were but a shell, a relic of the past. One that was best left where it was and not something to be uncovered or kept in this mortal world. Your intentions were not to play or appease those lost souls. You were here for darker reasons; the insatiable appetite that lured you to remote and dark places such as this - the power and simplicity in the Dark-type’s nature to chase their desire. The Phantom Isle was a perfect place for exploring such an ambition. Its melting pot of dark corners and desolated paths mixed with the occult energy that weaved through it provided the perfect training ground for which to unleash your Pokémon on.

    You were familiar with the hotel by now. In the past, you had visited the area on occasion for some peace and relaxation. So it came as no surprise when you entered, that the hallways were devoid of any life in both creature and interior. The same dust-filled desk stood where it always was, unmanned. The chandelier’s light, which never seemed to die out, cast a soft glow of grey and red across the hotel marble.

    “I come to seek spirits in need. My Pokemon grow restless with lack of hostility; if we can be of service to any of you, make yourselves heard!” Your words were not soft-spoken or in lack of vigour as you addressed the lobby. You were here to lure out whatever spirits remained and sought to take advantage of them in whatever way you could. You gaze across the walls and ceiling, hoping to catch a glimpse of a response.

    “Oh spirits, heed my calls: Come forth and challenge me.”

    You turn to the voice that stood behind the desk. A yellow creature with white mane and top hat held his cane up high as if to summon a native American ancestor. “Really though”, the creature’s nose twitches in mild annoyance, “what an absolutely absurd gesture. And to think you believe someone would answer such a call.” He composed himself back in a gentlemanly fashion and leaned on his back staff, staring at you with judgemental eyes.


    Your first response is to protest but the Pokémon stabs his cane in your direction. “Quiet, Mr. Helford! I know very well who you are. I’ve sensed your presence ever since you stepped foot onto this land from the moment you first visited this place.”

    “Luther C. Helford; the Dark type master,” he spat out each word like they were curses.

    “I’ll make no secret of it Mr. Helford; I despise you. I and my associates worry for our very lives when you enter the premises. We don’t particularly enjoy the Dark type but we’ve come to a mutual understanding and tolerate one another’s presence. You, on the other hand, are an entirely different matter; purposefully indulging yourself in the dark type’s spirit with complete and utter disregard for the psychics and ghosts that suffer at their hands. And now, you enter our very home and actively declare a fight with whichever poor soul happens to float by.”

    His eyes are like daggers when they look at you. “It is clear you do not fully understand the basis of their existence, and I would love nothing more than to strike you down right now. However, such an action would be beneath me and I have very clear instructions from my master.” He taps his cane against the ground, producing a knock that echoes down the hallway and reaches the elevators, signalling them to open and spill their light down the corridor floor.

    “Despite our differences, we would like to ask something of you. We have a few problems for which we lack certain, skills shall we say. You, however, might be able to help us resolve these issues. Take the elevator and bring it to the sixth floor. There you will find the ghosts you seek. You will not,” he emphasises, “fight them. It is our intention to have you resolve the issue in the hopes of better understanding our plight.”

    “If, however, you decide you want to be stuck in your ways and refuse to accept opposing views – then take the elevator to the storage room. We have an infestation of sorts that requires immediate attention and we’ve been unable to enter the place. Go there, and you will find those ‘hostile’ ghosts you’ve been looking for.”

    The choice was laid out bare in front of you: Take the elevator to the sixth floor in the hopes of understanding the ghosts’ resentment to pass on, or take it to the storage room where you would find the challenge you’ve been looking for. Of course, there could always be other options.

    How do you respond?


    Entertainment Room
    Electric Blue Eye:

    Lost, tired and hunted by the authorities, you inch away closer to anything that would resemble civilization. An abandoned amusement park was about the best you could get at this point though. Perhaps for the best. Considering you were the prime suspect in an arson case, you could do with a little retreat away. Still, the lack of human presence in the area made the whole place even less inviting then the authorities.

    The land was covered in an almost perpetual mist that stretched from the coast far across the amusement park and beyond. You note various decrepit structures rising from the bank of fog; a tilting Ferris wheel, tracks which most likely belonged to a roller coaster, even a few tent tops erupted as hills above the white. The biggest though, by far, was the tall, rectangular building on the side. From your standpoint you could make out the letters that adorned the entrance bow. HOTEL. After your long travel from places far away, a place to rest and possibly eat was the most comforting thing in the area and so you set out, hoping to find such a thing.

    The doors were unlocked and slightly open. Entering wasn’t a problem. Finding some good help from the workforce was another matter. Seeing as there was no workforce to start with. The hallways on either side were thick in dust and cobwebs and a lone trolley was parked with some spilt baggage. Nothing of interest, just clothes. The reception desk in front of you was bare, safe for some keys hanging on the wall behind it, and a bell on top of it. Strangely, the desk and keys were the only thing not covered in dust. No point in ringing the bell you reckon, and instead head for the keys on the wall. At this point you could practically pick which room you’d want to stay at.

    You make your way around the dusted desk only to find you halting yourself. At the end of one hallway stood the elevator going up. On the other side, stood a door. Next to which a plague read ‘Games Room’. What was interesting though, was the soft neon glow that spilt out underneath it. Was someone or something here perhaps still working? You fumble through your pockets and remember the spare change you had on you. You certainly could play a few games. No harm in at least looking.

    The doors open with a loud creak, but easily. In front of you stood aisles of slot machines and arcade games. Far to one side you could make out billiards tables. Some with cues and balls still scattered across it. The glow came from the aisles in front of you though. Each separate stand had its own neon colour. You notice the familiar games. Pin-Voltorb, Gulpin-Man, Weedles, Super Aipom Bros. There was more than one of each. Though, sadly, not more than one of each to play on. Some were broken, damaged glass or dust in the machinery. Their presence reminded you of the stillness that pervaded the park. Some, luckily, were as lively as ever.

    At the very end of the aisles you hear a faint hum where two machines stood side by side on an open space. One was black. One was white. You can’t exactly make out what they are though and go over to inspect. The crackle of some of the broken arcade games give off a warning as you pass them, but there’s little sense in taking warning from broken machinery.

    The first you inspect is the bright white one. Compared to the rest of the room, it was immaculately clean. The name at the top said ‘The Game of Life’ and various pictures of happy children playing along with Pokémon skipping through meadows were dotted across the side as advertisement for it. You go around to look at the black one which, despite its colouring, managed to liven itself by emitting black light on top of it. The pictures of advertisement on this arcade game were of skulls and ghosts; also of children playing along or Pokémon skipping through meadows. The name at the top said ‘The Game of Death’.

    Clearly the two were meant to be as opposites of each other. Though what the games were supposedly going to be you didn’t know. You take a step back to get a better look and notice something else; a cable, that span from one console to the next was visibly slashed. A few loose sparks rained down every few seconds. Clearly, it was meant to be the establishing link between the two opposite consoles, something someone might not have agreed with.

    Either way, the Arcade provided enough games to play on first sight. Besides the black and white consoles, there were arcade games and pool tables that remained in a viable state. You also hadn’t investigated the whole floor yet as the room extended to back a bit further.

    What do you do?
    Last edited by Ex-Admiral Insane; 25th March 2016 at 6:42 PM.

  22. #322
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    Quote Originally Posted by Ex-Admiral Insane View Post
    The Lobby
    Aposteriori:

    You were somewhat undeterred by the vacant park and its uninviting mist, having come to the hotel in search of the paranormal. The lobby, as you could notice at first glance, was in dire need of some custodial staff. Despite the room being covered in marble, what once would have been a marvellous sight of gleaming stone and shining light was now a dank grey of filth and had but a glim of light cast from the chandelier. Cobwebs marked every corner, with some dropping off only to be blown around in whatever faint breeze travelled by. A lone standing drink together with a rusted bell and vacancy sign were the only things that covered the otherwise dust-filled desk. A series of keys hung behind, one for every room with a few removed from their rusted nails.

    You walk over to the counter, hoping to find a friendly face to help you, and call out into the silence. “Is anyone here?” Your voice travels down the hallways and back to you, bringing with it a whisper of your own cry.

    Nothing. A faint growl from the ajar entrance is all that answers you in this deserted place.

    “I would like to stay the night please!”

    Again nothing. This time even the doors don’t answer your calls.

    You look around to see if anything was missing. There was a door beside the counter next to which a plaque read ‘Restaurant’. On one end of the corridor was another door with the plaque ‘Games Room’, on the other end was the elevator doors, practically rusted shut from lack of use.

    “Why hello.”

    Your look over your shoulder in shock to find a man-sized, yellow figure behind the reception desk, complete with top hat, ruffled white neck hair and a diamond-crested cane.


    “You wish to stay here?” he speaks with a gentlemanly hum. “Greetings, my name is Nero.” He holds up a hand to stop you from responding. “Please. Yes, I am a Pokémon, and yes, I can talk. Let’s not dwell on these matters any longer or we might be still be here next morning.” Having said that, the creature looks you over, his eyes glancing from your head down to your attire and shoes before returning back to your face with an unimpressed gaze. “We haven’t had visitors in quite a while”, he continues with a hint of surprise in his voice.

    He turns around to the keys behind him. “We have very few guests at the moment, so we’re free to choose a room that will be more accustomed to your taste.” He looks you over one more time and starts picking at the keys one by one. “Hmm, perhaps a window view. Or no, one with a king sized bed. Or perhaps one with the exquisite bathroom. A free massage is always well received though.” He continues talking out loud as he inspects each key at a time, wondering if it might be the right fit for you.

    “Dahh,” he finally utters at himself. “Of course. Why didn’t I think of that earlier? I should have the guest tell me what he wants. “After all,” he looks at you, “the guest is king.” He shakes his head in disappointment at himself. “Young man, could you help me? What type of room would you like; Large, small, refined, modest, antique? It might help if you could tell me a little about yourself.”

    He thimbles with his diamond headed cane and looks up in thought and then back down at you with shrewd eyes. His voice calms to a smooth, sinister pace. “Perhaps tell me what your goal is in life? Are you a businessman trying to conquer the world? Or an Olympic swimmer hoping to set the world record? Do you dream of claiming victory over every combatant you come by?”

    He looks at you one more time. His eyes squint even more as if trying to look through you. “Or you might tell me about your wrongdoings? What is your major vice for example? There is no shame in divulging a pet peeve - we are all but human after all. Are you arrogant and proud, envious and wrathful, or..perhaps..lustful?” He’s quiet for a second as he ponders that last bit. “I should hope not. We prefer not to accommodate such types, though we wouldn’t refuse you if you did.”

    “Of course; fears are a more primal instinct,” his voice becomes a near whisper, “and might allow me to peer deeper into your soul’s very core.” The light flicker but for a brief moment and the same faint howl growls by the door once again with a creak. The whole lobby room which creaked, urging you to answer him, felt like it had just come alive upon hearing the question. It wasn’t that there were any eyes you could see anywhere, but you could feel that something was staring at you.

    “So tell me, please, the Hypno continues, “What room would you like? What suite would match your character? It is only fitting that the room should be suited to your needs.”

    How do you answer?


    "A talking pokemon is not what you see everyday. Let's see what my pokedex has to say about you."

    Quote Originally Posted by Pokedex
    It carries a pendulum-like device. There once was an incident in which it took away a child it hypnotized.
    If there is one thing the trainer has a tough time, it is coming up with a choice when posed with options. If he had to pick between a refined or modern room, he would perhaps go with refined; modern is overplayed at this point. Though, there is the option for antique. Aposteriori heavily critiques any room dressed after antique items. He will always wonder if they are dressed for the occasion, and keep up with the time period. He figures that it will probably be the most authentic room in the lot, so before you know it, the trainers selects the antique room.

    “So long as you show me the key to the antique room, I would not mind you taking me there sir. You might see me as a bit pudgy, but no need for a king bed. I would like to be accommodated into a simple queen bed. The more detailing the bed has to match the time period, the better in my opinion.”

    With the researcher picking his room, he goes on a long speech, explaining to the Hypno is interest in Pokémon research.

    “As for a life story, well I’m very simple. You will probably need to buy me a drink to get to know me personally. I tend to be mysterious about my past. Though I will freely share my current plans as a researcher.”

    The eyes of the trainers begin to glisten as this part of his life is near and dear to him. With a smirk on his face, Aposteriori begins to explain his investigation.

    “I have traveled to many different regions in hopes of becoming the best Pokémon researcher available in the land. My current interest are surrounded around flying typed Pokémon. Based on my notes, they are they only type right now that has a shared typed with the other 17. This leads me to deduce that flying typed Pokémon have several common ancestors amongst the other types, leading to the speciation of Pokémon. If I could unlock their secret within their genetic code, I will have a better understanding of where the future of Pokémon might be headed to. Or perhaps, how their individual genes might influence the creation of a brand new Pokémon. Humans are known to tinker in the creation of new Pokémon. Some even resemble machines from recent discoveries.”

    The trainer is unsure if the Hypno has dozed off, there is plenty of rambling in front of the counter, but the psychic Pokémon seems heavily invested in how the trainer thinks. Aposteriori continues to ramble about his life.

    “About the only vice I have, well. It is a cliché. I tend to smoke one cigarette a day. That helps my mind focus for the rest of the day. It must be accompanied by the morning’s newspaper, along with a cup of Cuban coffee. Anything else you would like to know as we proceed to my room for the night?”


    $>300
    Last edited by enchantress; 30th March 2016 at 2:52 AM.

  23. #323
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    Quote Originally Posted by Ex-Admiral Insane View Post
    ~Please reply in Slategray~

    The Park

    Funhouse
    Missingo Master:

    Your Scolipede hurled along the asphalt with single determination. In earlier days the paths would have been bustling with activity of families standing in line, clowns blowing up balloons and cotton candy dispensers working overtime. Now, the wide breadth served only as your Scolipede’s personal fastlane. It made another corner as it circled a pile of debris. Nothing seemed to want to slow it down, not even the strange purple mist that should have warranted a careful trot.

    Your mind was on running on similar tracks when it came to the disregard for safety. You had heard of the stories surrounding the island; ghosts operating the scarred amusement rides, some of which their visitors never returned from, but had met your share of ghosts before and remained unworried of that fact. The Banette that floated by Salazar’s tail was the unliving proof of that. It had been a while since anything new crept from the shadows at you though. The various adventures of enraged Slakings and Frontier Battle rooms all became a drag and a bit the same after a while. That’s why you decided to shake things up for yourself and see if that stalwart mind of yours was what it used to be, something your Meowth would call you crazy for. He could have stayed at home but the cat Pokémon tagged along with you nearly anywhere, even if he objected to your ideas of fun, openly, due to the rumours of vicious ghosts spreading their deadly state to whoever crossed their path.

    Your Banette took the objection as a sign of insult. She herself was a ghost after all, and an experienced one at that - if anything, the ghosts would have her to worry about. The two argue but are quickly cut down by their trainer. Your Banette though, giving a last grudging glow at you before gliding to the Scolipede’s head as look-out.

    The strange building that was the Funhouse came into a dim view in the distance. The house was an odd, white, wooden, obtuse, slanted, twisting, jagged, unevenly reassembled chamber that was scratched with pastel colours and attached to four similar containers in a manner much like Lego bricks couldn’t. A toddler’s drawing come to life was the first thing that came to mind. Immediate need for deconstruction was the second. Though you suppose its laughable exterior was the point of the design. Against the backdrop of greyed-out terrain and purple mist though, the place had the appearance of an ill-begotten castle surrounded by a moat of deadly fog. The friendly place had gained an edge of terror that struck anyone caught looking at it.

    The irregular shape of the building leaned over you as you came up close. Even the lime-green door was slanted at an angle, and unfortunately for Salazar, made to accommodate the average sized human. It would appear he couldn’t enter through the door with you, or at least not outside his Pokéball. A large signpost of warnings and safety precautions stood by the entrance side. Some of the grime covering it was wiped away, probably by a previous visitor you think (perhaps hope). The details of the house were the five rooms one could enjoy, all seemingly connected in a way that was kept a secret from the visitors for entertainment purposes.
    Living Room
    Hallway
    Bedroom
    Stairwell
    Bathroom

    “I see you’ve taken to visit the Funhouse,” chuckles a voice behind you. It was not human what you saw when you faced the voice, but it had the vague shape of something akin to a human. Yellow skin, white mane and large pointy ears between which a top hat rested. The creature bent forward, supported by his smooth cane. “It certainly is one of our most playful enterprises. Play is such an important part of life; wouldn’t you agree?” Your various adventures aided you and you instantly recognised it as being a Pokémon, one that could talk.


    “Ohohoho, you’re not surprised by my ability to talk, are you?” He looks at Meowth and Myrtle in turn, “it’s certainly been a while since I last met Pokémon that could talk like I do.” (Was he eavesdropping on you?) “How refreshing.” He smiles at all of you in as much a way a Hypno could.

    He hums to himself and strokes his mane as he looks you over. “Hmm.” He holds his hands on both ends of his cane in front of him, and then closes them. In a magician’s trick, the cane vanished between his hands. After opening them, his left hand blew purple flames which he held in his palm face-up. A small black box materialised inside which he delicately gripped in his hand. “Now then,” he says, the flames still licking his fingers that caged them. “Ordinarily I would give our visitors this remote as a gift. But you on the other hand, I think I can give a choice.” He holds out his right palm and a similar violet flame shot out. Another black box appeared in his hand after which the flames receded into his skin to uncover them. “Would you like the remote, or the walkie-talkie?” he looks at you questioningly. They weren’t real, you could tell. They were made of a cheap, plastic material and had most of their buttons painted on.

    The Hypno asks you one last time. “Which toy would you prefer to take with you?”

    How do you respond?
    It was a quiet ride through the park, albeit almost eerily so. The park's atmosphere, as Meowth so frequently reminded them, was a decidedly creepy one. But Keith wasn't especially bothered by this. If there was a type Keith Masters could be said to have something of an affinity for that would come second to his affinity for the Poison type, it would be the Ghost type. Indeed, he could understand several Ghost-type languages, and even spoke two of them himself. And that's not even getting into what he actually was. Well, what 25% of him was, anyway. Between all of that, his girlfriend, and the fact that his own Secret Base was built on the haunted grounds of an equally haunted mansion... yeah, Keith Golbatson Masters did not scare easy.

    After a while, the Funhouse could be seen in the distance. It looked somewhere between an actual house and a piece of abstract art. Almost childish in design, but then again, wasn't that kind of the whole point of the funhouse- the zany design, meant to throw people for a loop?

    "Scol..." Salazar murmured, eyeing the door- it was slanted at an angle to match the rest of the decor, painted a vivid lime green, and more to the point, was too small to accommodate a Scolipede. Not that this was anything new, of course- Salazar had evolved from Whirlipede years ago, and had long since become used to not being able to fit in most indoor areas. The most he'd been indoors as of late was the Battle Room of Keith's Secret Base, specifically built to accommodate larger Pokémon for exciting battles.

    "Ah, don't sweat it, Salazar," Keith smiled, patting the dark grey Scolipede. "You could use a rest anyway, you brought us the whole way here."

    "Scolipede," Salazar nodded, in agreement. He, too, had been looking forward to proving his unending bravery against what this place might have to offer, but all the same, he couldn't deny Keith had a point- he had been walking for quite a distance now. While not exhausted, he nonetheless loved the idea of taking a rest in his Poké Ball.

    However, as Keith climbed down off the Scolipede's back, before he could reach for Salazar's Poké Ball, a voice sounded behind them. Keith wheeled around, to see... some yellow humanoid creature standing before him. A pointed, crooked nose, a white mane all around the neck, large pointy ears, wearing a top hat, and carrying a cane. This was a Pokémon. A talking Pokémon. And just what kind of talking Pokémon this was, Keith was about to find out. He dug out a Koffing-purple Pokédex, which opened up to reveal the yellow skull-and-crossbones insignia on the cover, and an image of this Pokémon, sans the fancy hat and cape, appeared on screen.

    "Hypno, the Hypnosis Pokémon. The evolved form of Drowzee," said Keith's Pokédex. "Hypno carries a pendulum with it always. It sometimes appears near less-traveled roads and schools at dusk."

    So this was a Hypno. Keith fondly remembered Somnus, a Drowzee he once owned. This, he realized, was what Somnus, now under the ownership of his friend Jake Eclair, would someday evolve into.

    Keith was unsurprised by this Hypno's ability to speak, something the Hypnosis Pokémon was quick to pick up on. Indeed, Keith was no stranger to Pokémon that could talk. Besides Meowth and Myrtle, there was also his Shuppet, his Dusknoir... hell, even his Camerupt. There was also his Weezing and Swoobat, though those two communicated via telepathy, which called into question just how much they counted for. And then there was Jack, but only when he was Transformed into a human, or another Pokémon that could speak. What did strike him as odd, however, was the fact that Hypno seemed to know that Meowth and Myrtle could speak. He did, however, seem rather happy to meet other Pokémon that could speak.

    Hypno then offered Keith a choice- a remote control, or a walkie-talkie. Keith examined the offered items- cheaply made from plastic, with most- if not all- of their buttons painted on. And as if to drive the point home, Hypno referred to them both as toys. Keith did not respond to this right away. It... didn't really seem to matter, did it? And yet, he knew better than anyone that not everything was always as it might seem on the surface. These items might have far more significance than he, Keith, could fathom at this point. He couldn't picture just what this significance might be, but he figured he'd at least go along with this for the time being, see where this would take him. He gave it some thought- Hypno seemed to like him, near as he could tell, and this also seemed to factor into why he was offering the walkie-talkie as an alternative to the usual remote control. Ergo, Keith figured, perhaps there was some sort of benefit to the walkie-talkie, one which Hypno might not always offer to others. At least, that was one possibility. Whether it was the right one remained to be seen, but nevertheless, Keith decided to give it a shot.

    "I think I'll take the walkie-talkie, please," Keith finally said.


    $>300
    Last edited by enchantress; 26th March 2016 at 2:28 AM.

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  24. #324
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    Quote Originally Posted by Ex-Admiral Insane View Post
    (



    The Ghost Train
    Liltwick:

    The cowardly guide runs off, leaving you to fend for yourself as you approach the park’s main gates. Your two companions stayed by your side, sort of. The Pachirisu prefers to climb and scatter his way to your head, clinging on as you stride through the parks. The land, as you noticed, was deserted and had clearly been so for a long time. There was little in the way of eeriness in the park, safe for the byzantium fog on land and the blanket of storm clouds in the unending night sky which never rained. No, most of it was dusty, overturned or cracked; nothing spiritual or ghostly about any of that. The furthest to a scare you got was from your own partner Litwick as he burps a practical joke in your face.

    Thus, you manage to reach your destination unharmed and with little difficulty, perturbed only by the lack of sight you had through the mist, but there it leaned; The Ghost Train. Having heard about this sight and being naturally attracted to the darker side of life, your sole intention was to visit the area for yourself and see it with your own two eyes. If anything was to jump out and scare you, the sight of the disaster that triggered the mystical occurrences was a good place to start - not that the initial sight could though, only making you stare in marvel at what a sight the fire would have been.

    The entire ride was built as a large mansion through which train tracks swerved, that, in its old days, used to carry its passengers past the frightening animatronics. Grey bricks climbed the walls of the place, dislodging themselves over time, while the grounds surrounding the place were planted with dead trees and bushes - though you’re not sure if that was done purposefully or as a direct result from years of abandonment. The building itself served as a grim reminder of the polarising sides of life and death, as construction was only halfway completed; one side stood in its full haunted glory while the other remained in that of a burnt-down, crumbling ruin. The two sides would have remained eternally separated from one another by the white tarp, were it not for the train tracks that had survived the fire and crawled from exit to entrance. A scaffold of ladders and plateaus gave the construction sheet its own unique, skeletal character with which to separate and stand out from both the living and lifeless borders of the building.

    It’s not soon after that you hear the familiar sounds of footsteps. Strange’’, you tell yourself. You wouldn’t think ghosts made sounds when they moved. The dull, shapeless figure of a man looms in the fog when you look back, and paces slowly towards you before stopping to stare in your direction.

    Before you can say anything, you’re interrupted by the noise of a loud whistle bellowing inside the mansion. You can hear the sounds of raining steel, pounding rhythmically and getting louder as it drew close. Red lights pour out of the collapsing tunnel to your right and become the source of another ghastly whistle. The red lights emerge out of the tunnel, followed by a cloud of black smoke and the rolling barrel of a large beast. An ear-splitting screech rings in the air and forces you to cover your ears when the figure turns its sharp corner and heads straight for you. The figure of a large skull adorned the black hunk of machinery, red lights oozing out of its sockets and onto you as it drew near. The locomotive belches a few short puffs and the wheels let out a sigh from restraining themselves. The white skull passes you, its red gaze lingering on you as it did, while the train halts to a slow standstill to let the back carriage rest by your side.

    The carriage consisted of black metal sheets held together by a framework of ivory piping, and embellished with frosted windows and rusted doors that blocked most of the view - though you were certain there was no one inside. Behind you still lies the ominous shape in the fog, which now continued its course towards you accompanied by another, smaller figure; and whose intentions remained enigmatic and potentially threatening to you.

    How do you react?
    There was always something marvelous to the duality of life and death. They were two sides of the same coin, even if they had very stark connotations. While most people feared their inevitable demise, Austin more or less was comfortable with it. Was it that he already lost everything? Was it that he couldn't remember any of it? He couldn't tell, it was one of the many mysteries his mind hid from him. Hopefully their would be answers from this visit to the Ghost Train. Most likely not, but there was at least the chance of regaining something.

    One side of the building still held its presence in the earthen realm, remaining the same as it was when originally built. The other was a charred mess. A beautiful mess. Though, beauty was a subjective matter, so the boy knew it was only beautiful to him. He watched as the white tarp twisted to mold to the ladders and plateaus underneath; giving it a life like appearance. It was interesting, with the side covering death seemingly more alive than the part that went unscathed. Austin started to walk forwards, but the sound of footsteps caught him off guard.

    "Footsteps..? Strange..." he muttered to himself. He didn't notice anyone else within the park when he entered. Perhaps someone else came in as the fog thickened. He tilted his head backwards to see a lone figure seemingly staring at him in the fog. Was this a ghost? Or was this an actual person? The brunet gave quick glances to his Pokemon, who seemed to be acting the same as he was. He was about to make an answer when a sound distracted him.

    The sound of a train whistle bellows out from the mansion, both the living and the dead conjoining as the train strolled out from its collapsing home. Red lights and black smoke permeate the air, starting to draw Austin's vision towards it. He felt Kai shift from his leg, with the Pachirisu once again clamoring up his body to make a nest in his hair. Wisp was oddly... quiet. Perhaps he was also absorbed by the approaching vehicle of death... Or caught up in something else? An ear-splitting screech slices through the air, causing Austin to cover his ears. The red lights of the train then inspect him before continuing on, its skull seeming to be doing something as it passes by him. The train eventually skids to a halt, with its last carriage opening up in front of the boy and his Pokemon.

    It was hard to gaze into the carriage, but the mental framework held together by ivory piping and its frost-kissed windows was certainly enticing. Austin gave a quick glance behind him, and saw the figure continuing to approach him, accompanied by a much smaller figure. Were they ghosts? Was he about to see their deaths? Or was this something more darker... something more sinister? It was hard to unravel intentions from sheer silhouettes, but them walking towards the carriage must mean something...

    Austin decided that riding the train would be an interesting development... He came here for the train, and if wanted him, he'd take the opportunity. He started to walk up the steps into the carriage, causing fierce refusal from Kai. The Pachirisu started to tug at him, as if asking Austin to leave. Fear was a primordial emotion used as defense... He would not settle on fear, he would only settle on terror. Wisp continued to walk next to him, seemingly caught up in its own little world. Those who run from death stood still in life... So, what would happen when you embraced death? Austin sat down in the carriage, willing to find out.

    "Help!" The same voice from earlier screeches through his head, causing the boy to grip his forehead. Memories. There were memories here. This only made him more determined to see what the train had in store.


    $>300
    Last edited by enchantress; 30th March 2016 at 3:31 AM.


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  25. #325
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    Quote Originally Posted by enchantress View Post
    Phantom Isle
    The Hotel
    Situated at the back of the theme park is a grand hotel where guests and their Pokémon stayed whilst visiting. The ground floor has the usual areas such as lobby, restaurant, boutique, and entertainment room, while the downstairs levels house a storeroom and very special casino for its patrons. The hotel is still very active but its guests are far different than you might be used to encountering. The eight upper floors containing the suites are more often than not inhabited by spirits, some being those who perished in the fateful incident that closed the park. Some are restless not realising they are dead, and some are harmless, while others are not. Wander around the hotel and you may find more than you'd bargained for.

    Areas:
    The Lobby: Upon entering the hotel's main doors, you reach a marble-floored lobby with a check-in desk and huge chandeliers that flicker ominously. Behind the desk lies most of the keys to the various hotels rooms, but an unseen power prevents you from taking more than one at a time. A lone elevator sits at one end, leading up to the rest of the rooms or down to the storeroom and casino.
    The Doctor was always travelling. Finding new places and adventures was one of The Doctor’s best traits. He enjoyed it. Specially, when he would be with his beloved Rose, his first Pokemon. Sadly, this journey was going to be a bit different for him, maybe not that interesting. Maybe not that awesome. Or, at least that is what The Doctor thought. This time, he was with Chrysophylax Dive. One of his newest companions. Although, the Doctor had developed a good friendship with Dives, she was slightly of the notorious types. Specially, when the situation wasn’t bad.

    “Chrysophylax, let’s go, we’re getting late.” The Doctor shouted. They were going to be headed back home which was some, good, 250 years back. There was no response. None at all. “Chrys, now is not the time to be playing, you here that? If you do not come, I’ll leave without you. And you know I will do that!” Chrysophylax was very worried about being left behind. She had been with the Doctor for a very long time. Right out of nowhere, she emerged and thudded right into The Doctor’s knees and wrapped her hands around his leg. The Doctor, clearly in pain due to the rock hard head of the Bagon. “Very well, let’s go.” Said the Doctor, in agony.
    They entered the TARDIS. The Doctor set course for the year 2016. “Year 2016 it is!” Said The Doctor. “The year in which the human population developed to an extraordinary level.” Just when he was about to pull the lever, Chrysophylax bumped into him, a sudden outburst of happiness, maybe? Regardless, the thud caused The Doctor to pull the lever in wrong direction, causing the machine to malfunction and throwing the TARDIS off the grid and crash landing them into a place where they shouldn’t be.

    “What have you done Chrysophylax?” The Doctor said, getting up back on his two feet. As The Doctor turned towards his Bagon. She was sad, evidently, looking downwards. “Aw, hey now. It’s okay. We’ll get it going.” The Doctor moved towards his machine. “Oh, maybe it’ll repair itself!” Said the Doctor, “Let’s go out, take a little stroll, maybe find a place to sleep? What do you say?” The Doctor was optimistic of the TARDIS repairing itself, which is what the TARDIS does. And, the look on the Bagon’s face was absolute joy, like a flower that had bloomed for the very first time. It was delighted. “Let’s go!” Said the Doctor as the Bagon jumped into the arms of The Doctor. Going outside, they were right in front of a huge Hotel.

    “Oh, where have we landed?” The Doctor had a very worried look on his face. He was sure this is one of the last places he should be at. He remembered killing a few thousand Daleks at this very place. “This is not good, let’s get back into the TARDIS and wait for it to repair.” He said. His voice was low and cold. Chrysophylax on the other hand was excited. His face was brighter than the lights on the 4th of July. He quickly jumped off the arm of The Doctor and ran right inside the doors of the Hotel. “Rose!!” The Doctor screamed, somehow, the incident where Doctor lost Rose sprang up to his mind. He did not want to lose Chrysophylax too. He ran right behind her.

    Entering the door, he found one scared to death, pale Bagon, looking upwards, as if there was something up there. “What are you looking at Chrysy?” The Doctor looked upwards to see nothing at all. “You should not have come here. Not at all.” The Doctor was scared, not because there could be Ghosts in here but because he had lost his entire family, no, entire Time Lord race over here. “Now that we’re in here, time to look for some answers.” Said the Doctor as he started walking towards the counter.



    Registration thread

    $>300
    Last edited by enchantress; 30th March 2016 at 4:33 AM.

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