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Thread: Phantom Isle - The Haunted Theme Park

  1. #326
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    Quote Originally Posted by Ex-Admiral Insane View Post
    (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

    The Ghost Train

    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 approach to the hollowed out shell of the fateful location had Alex on edge slightly as a natural reaction to the park itself, while the Gothorita tailed him with dogged loyalty, an odd trait given the foreign nature of the traded psychic. As the pair neared the ride, the most obvious thing was most certainly the sight of the attraction: The midsection, covered by a great tarp, seemingly white. The rest, a burnt out skeletal shell, as though the tarp covered the modesty of one of the ride's victims, morbidly. Fitting, he thought to himself.

    His mind ticked to the articles he had read, numerous tabloids covering the accident. Tragedy at the Park, one read, covering the lives lost. They Had A Bad Time, another frontpage screamed, blaming the operators for neglecting security that caused the fire. A third debated whether it was an accident, fraud attempt gone wrong, terror attack (the writer had accused the Rockets of the fire) or something entirely different, but not less sinister. The lack of knowledge on the cause notwithstanding, the draw to Alex was without question the spate of deaths that occured after the disaster, and even as he looked, he could swear he saw one of the...

    "Wait a sec..." he whispered to himself, as his eyes caught sight of a vaguely humanoid shape in the mist. As he gazed at the figure, it seemed to turn to face him, as well as a pair of strange wisps, one of which appeared to crackle slightly, and even with his past behind him, the trainer was disturbed, to the point he stopped, if only to stare back trying to discern the figure, to little avail.

    And then there was a grave moaning whistle.

    As Alex and it turned to face the sound, the unmistakable sound of metal on metal rang throughout the park, like the Harbingers' hooves on the cobbles, its deep red eyes petrifying the human where he stood, unable to move or breathe autonomously, eyes filled with nought but red and quivering. And then the black smoke of Death Himself billowed from beyond the eyes, another deathly wail as though the reaper wept, the miasma parting to reveal His visage in all His grisly glory, the black skull of the horseman of the apocalypse focusing on the human before Him. The monster approached, with the terrible whistle and a screech which accompanied the jaw of Death opening, as though to show him his final destination, the reaper thundering towards him, seeking to cleave his soul, devour his mortal coil, spill his fluid-

    And then Death turned His form away from Alex, the young man's terror fading to realisation at what the Harbinger truly was, into bafflement. He chanced a quick glance towards Paine, who merly looked up at him, giving a small, innocent chime and a shrug. The confusion was not with the fact that the skull was the ghost train, but rather that he had expected something that was...well, not an actual locomotive. Sure, the fact it actually run was perplexing, though he chalked that up to ghostly shenanigans, as was the appearance, warped to fit the grim thematic of Phantom Isle and the centrepiece.

    No, what puzzled the trainer was the sheer scale of the damn thing. A train of this caliber should have been on an actual train track, not a kid's ride! This was more a freight train than an amusement train, and as his eyes drank the sight, there was the figure once more, seemingly equally distracted...almost humanly so. Slwly approaching, it turned to face him once more, and through the miasma Alex could almost make out what appeared to be a featureless face, though the distance made discerning this impossible. As the thing and wisps turned from him and the Gothorita, one of the wisps seemed...disturbed, before all three objects were swallowed by one of the machine's carriages, the entrace seemingly accepting of another few passengers...

    He turned to the Manipulate pokemon, whose eyes, as the norm, were unreadable, but her stance, relaxed, as though the wisps and implacable being were, at the least, tolerant. Almost hypnotically, Alex found himself approaching the entrance, in the footsteps of the shade before him, before logic caught on.

    "...you first. You're not as fragile," he whispered to the lolita, who rolled her eyes at the comment as she set foot into the metallic gloom of the ebon crypt, Alex following. She could not tell him, but the very sight of the human and pokemon in the carriage...she felt they would be in need of support, support Alex would provide.


    $>300
    Last edited by enchantress; 30th March 2016 at 2:36 AM.


    I reject your Nyancats and replace it with my own.
    FB

  2. #327
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    (Welcome Bleu to my haunted collection of updates. My receptionist will fill out your forms. *Points to dead Rattata on desk*)
    (Empoleon Dynamite and Uhhhhh: I will take up your adventures at a later date, leaving the remaining spots open for newcomers. Both of you are next in line though the first moment a spot opens up after that. I’m sorry for having to postpone it.)

    ~Please reply in Slategray~

    The Park

    Funhouse
    Missingo Master:

    There had to be reason you would be offered a second option, or so your line of thinking went. From what you gathered, the psychic Hypno liked you and must thus be offering something of incredible value if it wasn’t supposed to be standard, and so you make your pick known out loud.

    “Very well,” the Hypno says as he flashes the same purple fire to disintegrate the other option of a remote. No turning back on your choice now. He hands you the walkie-talkie with the number ‘1’ painted in a big white letter on the back. “Why not have one yourselves,” he says with glee towards Meowth and Myrtle before producing two more walkie-talkies out of thin and shoving them into their hands. They were exactly the same as yours except for the number ‘2’ and ‘3’ given to your Meowth and Banette respectively.

    You obtained 3 x Toy Walkie-Talkies
    A closer look at them reveals that they were indeed toys. There was one large button on the side and a nob on top to switch between stations but neither of them did anything.

    “One last thing before you go,” his voice adopts a dark tone. “This ride closes at midnight, please make sure to return before then. We wouldn’t want you to get lost and stay there.”

    His voice and face light up again. “Well, I best be off then,” he tips his hat. “Don’t forget to enjoy yourself,” he points his cane to the door as it opens with a creak, startling those of you with tender nerves. Once you turn back to the Hypno, whether it was to thank him or question, you notice he’s gone, leaving a sweep of dust where he stood. Not even your Pokémon had noticed where he disappeared off to in such a short second.

    The hinges squeak even further when you push open the door, revealing a long, narrow stretch of hallway that seemed to go on forever until it hit a door. Not much else could be said about the room. Like the exterior of the house the inside was white on all sides with pastel colours painted in strange and childish patterns; spiral, dots, squares, trapezoids – all the shapes were there. Only a few decorations in the form of a table, a lamp and a rug that stretched from your side to the other, were glued to the floor to give the impression of being lived in.

    The door slams with a loud thump once you enter, closing you off from outside and welcoming you to the house. With no seemingly other way to go, the group moves in a single file through the narrow corridor. The wood gives away on your second step and quickly slips out from under you. You attempt to regain your balance but feel thrown off by the walls that zipped past you with chugging sounds. The wall opposite you raced towards you as if rushing to slam you down.

    Then everything suddenly stops moving and you find yourself standing still by the door, holding your balance. Looking back, you can see the carpet is still gently rolling. The first trick of the house, you realise; a moving floor. At least you got to the other side quicker.

    The door was once again, oddly shaped to fit only the corresponding frame. Just when you reach for the handle, you hear a voice in the back of your head. “Will you stay and play with us?” The voice was instant and unmistakable, and dead right after it spoke. A glance at your Pokémon shows that neither of them spoke, and both look at you worried for your sudden halt, apparently not having heard the voice themselves. Still, against what might have been better judgement you press on through, somewhat hoping you imagined it.

    This room was definitely the living room. It had tables, sofas, chairs, lamps, carpets, TVs, stereos, bookcases, plant pots, board games, even domino pieces that were arranged in a pattern. The whole place would have looked like an ordinary living room if they weren’t all glued to the walls and ceiling, each of which slanted at its own peculiar angle in open defiance of the rest. Right in the centre erected a small rubber hill held in place by a pole that reached the ceiling. The moment you take your first step inside, as if noticing your entry, the whole floor trembles with mechanical churning, similar to the one in the hallway. The segments of hardwood that made up the floor broke apart and moved, turned or rocked on their spot, engaging a playfield of unstable footing to play on.

    It was fairly simple what you had to do; there were door on all sides of the room. All you had to do was move in a straight line across the room towards your destination, and you could have avoided most of the traps. You step onto the first game piece, two narrow strips that moved back and forth at different speeds, when the same voice calls to you again. “Will you stay and play with us?” You lose your focus and stumble, throwing yourself straight into a glass wall that appeared as if out of nowhere. You recover and take a closer look. It seems you wouldn’t be able to cross in one straight line after all. In addition to the moving floor, the room was a maze of glass panes designed to force its visitors in predetermined paths, all of which lead to the foam hill in the centre.

    Well you were here for fun. Now go have fun. ~ feel free to describe the traps in the room and how your group crosses them.


    Mantine Mania
    Gemini Spark:
    ~ Your last update


    The Ghost Train
    Liltwick:
    ~ After this, you and fishyfool will be updated together as long as you stay together.
    With little hesitance you decide to accept the train’s ominous invitation and head through the carriage doors. Your Pachirisu continues to beg you to reconsider but decisions based on fear would not take control and lead you. Instead, an interesting development based on confronting the steel monster was what you hoped and craved. The interior was a welcome sight, standing in stark contrast to the gloomy outdoors with its bright lights and soft cushions spread on the two benches on either side. Gently, you place yourself on one of the benches, all the while taking in the sight and expecting something peculiar to happen at any moment.

    The train remains in its motionless state yet trembling and you start to wonder about the mysterious figure in the fog and if it would catch up to you. Was it perhaps attempting to scare you into the train, or perhaps trying to dissuade you in the first place? Your memories and thoughts are interrupted and answered by the slow and dramatic approach of footsteps outside. With the light reflecting off the carriage windows you can only discern the soft shape of the dark figure walking beside the station. While not easily scared, you and your Pokémon hold your breath for a brief moment as you’re kept in wonder.

    Then the carriage doors open, and the footsteps become louder. Entering the train was the small figure of a black and white clothed girl followed by the tall figure of a young man aged a few years ahead of you. The two turn to you to in silence and look you over. Before either of you can say anything to one another you hear a separate voice calling to you from the mists.

    “Stop! That train’s not for-!”

    As if to drown the voice of reason, the carriage doors close behind the man and the trains sets into motion. With slow, repeated chugs, the wheels hit the tracks in a symphony of steel and concrete. Out of the window you can make out the dim sight of a yellow creature looking at you with eyes that flare in both distress and malice.

    You take one last quiet look at your new accomplice before the two of you enter the repaired tunnel of the Ghost Train. Black sheets of shadow hug the trains windows while the carriage’s lamps pass out momentarily at every thump until it reaches the steady rhythm of a heart. There was no turning back now.

    What do you say/do?


    Fishyfool: ~ After this, you and Liltwick will be updated together as long as you stay together.
    While you’re left in wonder of the train’s inexplicable lack of reason, the three enigmatic shades ahead of you decide to accept its offer. Before you even knew it, you found yourself walking into the same direction towards the doors’ haunting light. Your senses return, if perhaps momentarily, to question you on your endeavour. The Gothorita beside you remained in her calm disposition as she looks back at you. You usher her on to go ahead, perhaps out of fear, perhaps out of reason. Pokémon were more well known for holding their ground, if only at times by a trainer’s command. This, who knows, might be a just reason for exploiting that unspoken gospel.

    You walk up the station’s steps and pass the sleek black carriage. You can make out the shape of what appears to be a boy, almost a man, and what appeared to be two Pokémon by his side, sitting on the carriage’s bench. You’re not halted by this recent development, but feel slightly more relaxed as the idea of a threat dwindles, if only upheld by the unanswerable question of his presence.

    The doors open as silently as the world outside, welcoming you in with little restraint. Your Gothorita walks ahead of you as ordered before you quickly, but calmly, follow her suit. You have but a moment to glance at the trainer and take him in, his face mask being his most distinguishing feature, before a voice from the shadows calls to you.

    “Stop! That train’s not for you!”

    In some haunted attempt to silence the voice, the doors trap mercilessly behind you and the train’s whistle bellows with the belch of smoke. Your slightly caught off guard by the sudden motion beneath your feet as the train shifts into a steady pace. Through the door windows you can see a yellow figure of a man beckoning towards you before the train moves away. You take one final glance at the quiet boy you shared the carriage with, who stares back at you with equal eyes of question. Both of you are thrown into the dark abyss of the tunnel, left with nothing but the carriage light, which decided to ominously flicker and underscore the mood.

    What do you say/do?


    -----

    The Hotel

    The Lobby
    Aposteriori:

    The Hypno listens intently, not glancing away for even a second, as you detail your aspiration in life, your desires and wishes for your stay. Finally, you come to your vice of smoking and with it the end of your story.

    “Ohohoh,” the Hypno chuckles, “I think we can hardly call smoking a deplorable sin; it’s more of a vice wouldn’t you say? No worries sir, there’s absolutely nothing to be ashamed about. But what an interesting story you have; your endeavour to research the flying types is rather refreshing I might say. It fills my heart with joy to see youngsters with such an ambition and thirst for knowledge. I think we can cater exactly to your needs here, and gladly so.” He turns to the hanging stack of keys behind him. “Now let’s see, research and science - I do think was on the fifth floor. Now as for room, antique, flying, maybe 34, or was it 67, no wait…”

    He continues mumbling his thoughts to himself, leaving you anxiously waiting. “…or was it one. Ah, now I got it, it’s room 99 but which one…” He continues on for a while again. Finally, he cheers in a state of eureka and hands you the key to your room. “Here we go, Room 99.4, yes that was it, a fine room indeed. I hope you’ll find it to your liking. Despite the odd number he presented, you take the key from the smiling Hypno. “And don’t forget your complementary hotel gift, our way of saying thanks for your stay.” He hands you a couple of berries.

    You obtained 1 x Key to Room 99.4, 2 x Oran Berries, 2 x Persim Berries and 2 x Lum Berries
    The Hypno tips his hat in a polite farewell as you take off for your room. The elevator doors, as you quickly realised, were out of order, thus forcing you to take the stairs. On your trip there, you manage to take in the other hallways. All of them, with not a single exception, had poor lighting, overturned carpets, dust and some were even littered with thrash. It didn’t look like the hotel was in business at all but, rather like much of the rest of the park, left in a state of grim disrepair. Your own hallway wasn’t any better. Sure the lighting was a slight improvement over the others but the buzzing that came off the lamps wasn’t reassuring.

    When passing the many doors on either side, you notice the odd numbering that made no sense at all, 33.4 was followed by 12.5 and then by 84.3 for example before going back to 33.5. The hallways split seemingly countless times in unimaginable turns, leaving you wandering the floor for quite some time. By chance, you manage to pass the room with number 99.4, if only because it was the only door that had received a fresh coat of paint and was adorned with a bronze lock.

    You turn the key and open the door with a rusted creak before a bright flash hits your eyes and blinds you. You stumble around a while, almost scratching your eyes in pain before your vision slowly returns in splashes. In front of you stood, by all accounts, an antique room in the style of the 19th century. A hardwood floor covered with a stitched rug, off-colour white wallpaper on all sides and the flames of the chandelier and kerosene lamp to shed light. Opposite you was the wooden frame of the four poster bed, practically overflowing with its many layers of sheets and embroidered pillows. Beside the bed were the two slender, white, drawn curtains covering the small stretch of windows. Looking further around you find a dressing table, closet, coffee table, nightstand - all in the matching style - and a small bookcase with literature from the greats like King, Lindqvist, Stoker, Rice and Le Fanu; all at your disposal while you stayed. The only thing that didn’t match the setting was the black box beside the bed that was the telephone. You instantly recall the Hypno having mentioned a masseuse, and reason you could probably use it to call for room service or other luxuries if requested.

    What do you want to do first?


    Marblezone: ~ Your last update


    Lt. BLEU™: ~ please don’t forget to add a link to your profile in either your signature or replies
    You crashed rather violently into the deserted theme park, landing right outside a run-down shamble of a hotel. With your time machine in need of time itself to repair, the irony of which was lost on you, you decided you might as well stroll around and look for anything peculiar or of interest. Who knows? Most adventures start by an unpredicted turn of events, perhaps your crash-landing would be a blessing in disguise, something that would be very unlikely if you had any idea as to where you were.

    When stepping outside though, the faint glimmer of a memory resonates in your mind and the surroundings have an eerie resemblance to another place you’ve once visited and fought a war. The dreary sight of the landscape provoked you to return, and quickly. You’d rather not stay here. Chrysophylax, on the other hand, had her plans and speeds off from you. In the blur of rattled emotions, you instantly shout out the wrong name, recalling, instead, another shard of a sombre memory, forcing you to chase after the Bagon inside.

    Inside you find your Pokémon in a spooked state, with no apparent cause for her discomfort. The place was filled with dust, cobwebs and lack of lighting. Barely a breeze fluttered by to breathe life into this place, a grey husk of its former self, but nothing stood out as chiefly frightening. You take a last glance around and decide that, while you were here anywhere, you might as well find answers to this place’s origins. The reception desk was your first port of call. Despite it’s apparent abandonment, you try the reception bell, producing a chime that resonates throughout the hall. For a while, nothing happens, and then the same ring echoes back into the hall. The tinkle reverberates down the hallways and back up a couple more times as it dies down gently, and only once it did could you hear an ominous sound coming from outside.

    What was it? You weren’t exactly sure. The sound was distant and faint but appeared to have the tone of a sighing song. A whale perhaps? A sick wolf? You listen for a few more seconds but hear nothing any more. You wait a few more second to be sure, your Bagon preferring to wait a few longer as she pulls herself closely to you, and then hesitantly head towards the door to inspect.

    Your footsteps echo across the hall and you manage only a few before another noise draws your attention. This time it was happier, giggling even, and came from inside.

    “…why…here...ask...no…see…”

    The small whispers of children float by your ears as you turn your head to make out the source of the sound. Your Bagon clings closer to you, as if having heard the voices before. Was this why she was so spooked when you found her?

    “…maybe…fun…cry…fun…go…no…you…”

    You question where it came from as the whispers turn into a soft buzz of words, forgoing their earlier stillness. Thoughts and fears bubble up inside you as you question where you’ve managed to land now, and what all those noises outside and inside were.

    How do you react?


    Entertainment Room
    Electric Blue Eye:
    ~ Your last update
    Last edited by Ex-Admiral Insane; 3rd April 2016 at 10:25 PM.

  3. #328
    Join Date
    Jun 2004
    Location
    Black City
    Posts
    7,348

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    Quote Originally Posted by Ex-Admiral Insane View Post
    The Park

    Funhouse
    Missingo Master:

    There had to be reason you would be offered a second option, or so your line of thinking went. From what you gathered, the psychic Hypno liked you and must thus be offering something of incredible value if it wasn’t supposed to be standard, and so you make your pick known out loud.

    “Very well,” the Hypno says as he flashes the same purple fire to disintegrate the other option of a remote. No turning back on your choice now. He hands you the walkie-talkie with the number ‘1’ painted in a big white letter on the back. “Why not have one yourselves,” he says with glee towards Meowth and Myrtle before producing two more walkie-talkies out of thin and shoving them into their hands. They were exactly the same as yours except for the number ‘2’ and ‘3’ given to your Meowth and Banette respectively.



    A closer look at them reveals that they were indeed toys. There was one large button on the side and a nob on top to switch between stations but neither of them did anything.

    “One last thing before you go,” his voice adopts a dark tone. “This ride closes at midnight, please make sure to return before then. We wouldn’t want you to get lost and stay there.”

    His voice and face light up again. “Well, I best be off then,” he tips his hat. “Don’t forget to enjoy yourself,” he points his cane to the door as it opens with a creak, startling those of you with tender nerves. Once you turn back to the Hypno, whether it was to thank him or question, you notice he’s gone, leaving a sweep of dust where he stood. Not even your Pokémon had noticed where he disappeared off to in such a short second.

    The hinges squeak even further when you push open the door, revealing a long, narrow stretch of hallway that seemed to go on forever until it hit a door. Not much else could be said about the room. Like the exterior of the house the inside was white on all sides with pastel colours painted in strange and childish patterns; spiral, dots, squares, trapezoids – all the shapes were there. Only a few decorations in the form of a table, a lamp and a rug that stretched from your side to the other, were glued to the floor to give the impression of being lived in.

    The door slams with a loud thump once you enter, closing you off from outside and welcoming you to the house. With no seemingly other way to go, the group moves in a single file through the narrow corridor. The wood gives away on your second step and quickly slips out from under you. You attempt to regain your balance but feel thrown off by the walls that zipped past you with chugging sounds. The wall opposite you raced towards you as if rushing to slam you down.

    Then everything suddenly stops moving and you find yourself standing still by the door, holding your balance. Looking back, you can see the carpet is still gently rolling. The first trick of the house, you realise; a moving floor. At least you got to the other side quicker.

    The door was once again, oddly shaped to fit only the corresponding frame. Just when you reach for the handle, you hear a voice in the back of your head. “Will you stay and play with us?” The voice was instant and unmistakable, and dead right after it spoke. A glance at your Pokémon shows that neither of them spoke, and both look at you worried for your sudden halt, apparently not having heard the voice themselves. Still, against what might have been better judgement you press on through, somewhat hoping you imagined it.

    This room was definitely the living room. It had tables, sofas, chairs, lamps, carpets, TVs, stereos, bookcases, plant pots, board games, even domino pieces that were arranged in a pattern. The whole place would have looked like an ordinary living room if they weren’t all glued to the walls and ceiling, each of which slanted at its own peculiar angle in open defiance of the rest. Right in the centre erected a small rubber hill held in place by a pole that reached the ceiling. The moment you take your first step inside, as if noticing your entry, the whole floor trembles with mechanical churning, similar to the one in the hallway. The segments of hardwood that made up the floor broke apart and moved, turned or rocked on their spot, engaging a playfield of unstable footing to play on.

    It was fairly simple what you had to do; there were door on all sides of the room. All you had to do was move in a straight line across the room towards your destination, and you could have avoided most of the traps. You step onto the first game piece, two narrow strips that moved back and forth at different speeds, when the same voice calls to you again. “Will you stay and play with us?” You lose your focus and stumble, throwing yourself straight into a glass wall that appeared as if out of nowhere. You recover and take a closer look. It seems you wouldn’t be able to cross in one straight line after all. In addition to the moving floor, the room was a maze of glass panes designed to force its visitors in predetermined paths, all of which lead to the foam hill in the centre.

    Well you were here for fun. Now go have fun. ~ feel free to describe the traps in the room and how your group crosses them.
    Right after Keith made his choice, Hypno immediately conjured up a purple flame which caused the remote control to vanish. If he was regretting his decision in any way, it would do him no good now, it seemed. Of course, Keith still wasn't sure whether he regretted this decision or not just yet- way too soon to tell. Hypno then gave to Keith the walkie-talkie, and then produced two identical ones out of nowhere, which he then gave to Meowth and Myrtle. "Uh... tanks," Meowth murmured, examining the, uh... "device", for lack of a better term- for upon closer inspection, Keith could see that they were in fact the nonfunctioning toys that they appeared to be at first glance. Each one featured a large button on the side and a knob on the top, but they had all the effectiveness of a Splash attack.

    Before Hypno left, his voice turned very dark very suddenly, and he warned them to return before midnight, apparently the ride's closing time. Keith nodded- he wasn't particularly scared, so long as they kept a good eye on the time, ominous as Hypno's warning came off, and as sure Keith was that the consequences for failing to heed said warning would be... unpleasant. "Understood," he responded.

    Hypno's demeanor brightened back up again, as if someone had filled a switch, as he reminded them to have fun. Keith turned at the sound of a door creaking open on the side of the funhouse, but as he turned back, Hypno was gone! "What the..." Keith murmured.

    "Where'd he go?" Meowth wondered. "We ain't looked away fer two seconds!"

    "Well, Hypno can learn Teleport," Keith reasoned. "That'd do it."

    "Yeah... yeah, dat'd do it," Meowth agreed, though sounding as though he was trying to convince himself of this fact.

    "OK, then, Salazar, return," Keith added, holding out a Poké Ball to withdraw his Scolipede. "Take a nice rest," he said as he reattached the ball to his belt. He exchanged looks with the Meowth on his shoulder, then with the Banette now hovering beside him, and Keith led the way inside the funhouse.

    SLAM! As soon as the trio made it inside, the door slammed shut behind them. "GAAAH!" Meowth exclaimed, jumping about a foot in the air before clutching Keith's arm as though for dear life.

    "Oh, calm down, Meowth," Keith said. "It's an ominous funhous in a notoriously haunted abandoned theme park, recommended to us by a mysterious talking Hypno. I'd have been more surprised if the door didn't slam shut behind us."

    "Scare-dy cat," Myrtle added.

    "Easy," Keith said warningly to the both of them. "C'mon, let's go- WHOA, WHOA, WHAT THE FU-" he added, for as he stepped forward, the floor appeared to react to it. It gave way, causing Keith to lose his balance, and then there came the wall rushing up right towards him! With no time to do anyhing, Keith slammed his eyes shut, hugged Meowth one last time, and braced for impact...

    ...but nothing. No impact. All was still once again. Slowly, Keith and Meowth opened their eyes, and sighed in relief. The matching expressions of relief soon turned to ones of irritation, due to the sound coming from behind them- Myrtle laughing her cloth *** off.

    "That was too fun-ny!" Myrtle managed between fits of uproarious laughter. "You i-di-ots would not re-cog-nize a mo-ving floor if it sent you zoo-ming a-cross the room, ap-par-ent-ly!"

    Keith looked down. Of course- a moving floor. He and Meowth stopped holding onto each other, the latter climbing back onto the former's shoulder, neither of them looking at Myrtle. "Yeah, yeah, real funny, Myrtle," Keith said, rolling his eyes as he reached for the handle. "As long as you got a nice snack out of i-"

    "Will you stay and play with us?"

    Keith froze. The voice he had just heard in the back of his head was distinct and clear as day, though for the life of him he couldn't figure out where it came from, or who might have spoken it. He looked all around, and glanced at Meowth and Myrtle, both of whom were eyeing him curiously. "...Who said that?" Keith asked.

    "Who said wat?" Meowth asked.

    "That... that voice, just now, the... someone just asked if we'd stay and play with them, you guys didn't... neither of you... said... 'will you... stay... and... play with... us...?" Keith trailed off as Myrtle and Meowth exchanged confused glances. The Banette in particular looked more confused and concerned than most people ever see her.

    "Are you fee-ling al-right, Meat Sack?" Myrtle demanded of Keith, trying (and failing) to sound like her usual unconcerned self, but amid his confusion as to what the hell just happened, Keith appreciated nonetheless the fact that Myrtle was actually worried about him.

    "Yeah... yeah, I'm feeling fine, I just... I dunno what happened," Keith murmured. "I mean... someone could be trying to communicate telepathically. I mean, Gemini and Mustard, and Luna, they do it all the time, and they can choose who can and can't hear their telepathic communications in a given area, right? Hell, could be that Hypno, for all we know."

    "Do not for-get Wil-low," Myrtle added, sounding a bit more like her old self now that a plausible explanation for this voice had come to light.

    "Please, like I'd forget about Willow," Keith replied with a small grin. Willow was the ghost residing in his Timburr's log- she too could communicate with something like telepathy. "Millicent would hit me over the head with Willow if I ever forgot about Willow. Now let's get moving- we don't want to end up still in here past midnight, right?" With that, he grabbed the door handle and opened the oddly-shaped door.

    This next room vaguely resembled a living room. Very vaguely. Oh, it had all the furnishings of a living room, true enough, there was just the minor detail that they were all stuck to the walls and the ceiling. Not to mention the odd angles the walls and ceilings were positioned at. The whole thing was as disorienting as a Spinda's Teeter Dance- moreover, once Keith actually stepped inside the bizarre room, the floor started going crazy again. Parts of the floor broke apart and started moving back and forth, or rocked, or even rotated. It was all highly unstable-looking, but Keith couldn't help but suppress a grin. He fondly remembered his childhood- having lived a stone's throw away from a large volcanic mountain in his youth, naturally he spent a lot of time climbing. In particular, he enjoyed exploring the Jagged Pass, an extremely unstable and uneven portion of Mt. Chimney. It provided ample challenge, but Keith had always enjoyed it, and in doing so, had acquired something of a proficiency for navigating unstable, uneven terrain. Granted, he'd kinda lost his head back in the corridor, but he hadn't seen that coming in the slightest. This time, he could see the oddly lively floor before him. All he had to do, he figured, was step over as many traps as he possibly could. Not so different from finding stable footing as he would slowly ascend Jagged Pass in his youth, he reasoned. All he had to do was navigate across the room, nimbly evading as many traps as he possibly could, and enduring whichever ones he couldn't, and make it to the other side, to one of the many doors that lined the other oddly-angled walls. Piece of cake. He stepped forward, carefully making his way onto two narrow floorboards which were shifting back and forth at different speeds-

    "Will you stay and play with us?"

    There it was, that voice again! It threw Keith's concentration, which resulted in he himself being thrown clear across the room... or not. Instead, Keith found himself flat up against what he had initially perceived to be thin air. "Holy crap, that's clean glass," he muffled, his face still up against it.

    Rolling her eyes, Myrtle floated forward and peeled her Trainer off of the glass. Recovering from the sudden shock, Keith got a better look- of course. The room was a maze of nearly-invisible panes of glass. So they had that to contend with in addition to the screwy floor. Juuuust perfect.

    "OK," Keith sighed. "We got one hell of a maze before us here. So let's get moving, huh?" he said to his Meowth and Banette.

    "What-ev-ver, Meat Sack," Myrtle rolled her eyes.

    "Let's get movin'," Meowth replied, eyeing the floor warily.

    And so it began. Keith started to navigate his way across the room. Slowly, carefully, keeping a sharp eye out at all times so he'd be able to tell where the panes of glass were. As he turned a corner, he had to be very careful, stepping over a large portion of floor that was rocking rather violently, but he managed this rather well, he thought... just as he wound up stepping onto another portion of floor that spun him around like a Hitmontop, with Meowth having jumped clear just in time. Myrtle hastened to shove Keith off of the rapidly rotating planks and onto a couple of floorboards which were moving back and forth. A little screwy, yes, but in comparison to the spinning monstrosity next to it, it pretty much qualified as a breather. "Meat Sack, are you O-K?" Myrtle inquired.

    "Keith is trying to learn Rapid Spin... but Keith can't learn more than four moves," Keith responded in a disoriented mumbling. As he started going on about deleting a move to make room for Rapid Spin, Meowth and Myrtle looked at each other. The Banette then floated in close and slapped Keith in the face. "One... Two... and poof- GAH!" Keith exclaimed as Myrtle's cloth paw struck him in the face. "Agh... Ow... thanks, Myrtle, I needed that," he admitted, shaking his head as if to clear it. "Whoa." He glanced warily at the spinning portion of floor that had disoriented him so. "That was pretty wild," he added as Meowth clambered back up onto his shoulder.

    "Yeah, let's not do dat again," Meowth suggested.

    "Oh, I'm with you on that," Keith nodded as they pressed on- he had lost his bearings completely, but with Myrtle barring his way back, he had a pretty shrewd idea which way to continue.

    "...So, Keith," Meowth asked as Keith skillfully navigated across a series of shifting floorboards. "Wat happened back dere?"

    "What do you mean, what happened?" Keith grunted, his focus being mainly on sidestepping a group of floorboards that seemed intent on slamming him into one of the glass panes. "I stepped on a spinning floor, and I spun around. It's not exactly rocket surgery."

    "Not dat- when youse walked in," Meowth retorted. "Ya looked like youse had it, and den ya just lost yer grip. Dat ain't like youse." Keith said nothing, his silence speaking volumes to the Scratch Cat Pokémon. "Ya heard da voice again," Meowth said. It wasn't even a question, it was a statement. "Dat 'will youse stay and play wit us' ting again, didn't ya?"

    "I don't know what's up with that, Meowth," Keith sighed, gingerly moving from one sliding floorboard to the one next to it. "It's weird, and I don't know why I'm hearing it and neither of you are, I don't get it at all. You know what it is, that Hypno's probably trying to screw with me." As he spoke, he glanced at the toy walkie-talkie in his hand. "And I wish I knew just what the hell this even does," he added.

    "It don't look like it does nuttin'," said Meowth. "Why's we even holdin' onto dese?"

    "Because we have no idea what their deal is," Keith said firmly as he made damn sure to step right over yet another violently spinning section of floor. "Yeah, they look like toys, but I doubt Hypno would've given them to us unless they had some kind of use. At any rate, worst case scenario, they really are just toys and holding onto them does us no harm whatsoever."

    "Meat Sack may have a point," Myrtle mused, eyeing her own walkie-talkie. "I see no rea-son to not at least keep them with us for now."

    Meowth looked at his own walkie-talkie. He still thought it was useless, but on the other hand, when Keith and Myrtle actually agreed on something, call him crazy, but he was inclined to pay attention. No more words were spoken beyond that point as they navigated the maze of ridiculously clear glass, with Keith doing his damnedest to navigate in spite of the screwy floorboards that seemed to have a mind of their own. Of course he couldn't skillfully dodge every last trap- just moments after they finished discussing the walkie-talkies, Keith had to actually jump over a series of spinning platforms, which landed him right onto a chunk of floor that was lurching violently and actually caused him to fall forward. He found it rather easy to get back up, unaware that Myrtle was secretly using Psychic to assist him, and continued to navigate from there.

    At long last, they arrived at rubber hill and metal pole what that marked the center of the room. There were several paths to take from there, each of which would lead to a different door. "So, which way do we go?" Meowth asked Keith.

    "Well, we can rule out backwards, obviously," Keith replied, causing Myrtle to once again roll her eyes and start to regret helping him out with Psychic earlier. "No, but seriously, I had already decided to go for the one on the opposite end, so that'd pretty much have to be this way," Keith stated, stepping around the rubber hill and metal pole, and down the corresponding corridor.

    The second half of the trek proved just as challenging and zany as the first. Not three seconds in, Keith was caught off-guard by a violently sliding patch of floor, which sent him stumbling right onto yet another spinning panel. This time, Myrtle was in no hurry to help Keith off of it, considering his bad joke about going backwards earlier, but decided to help all the same when he started turning green.

    "Ooooogh..." Keith moaned. "That was the worst one yet..."

    "I tink I'm gonna hurl," Meowth added- this time, he hadn't managed to jump off of Keith's shoulder in time to be spared from the spinning.

    "Oh, please, don't- then I'm gonna hurl," said Keith.

    "Oh, suck it up, the both of you," Myrtle snapped. "Are we or are we not on a ti-mer here? Mid-night ring a bell for ei-ther of you i-di-ots?"

    "Right... right!" Keith nodded, feeling better as the wave of nausea started to subside. "C'mon, Meowth, Myrtle, let's keep going."

    And keep going they did! Through twists and turns, across sliding and spinning floorboards, Keith nimbly navigated the mysterious maze as best he could. Mercifully, he managed to not step on any more spinning panels, but it was a very near thing, especially at one point where the floor just before one of the spinning panels seemed intent on jostling him onto aforementioned spinning panel. But Keith was motivated by the vivid memory of his previous nausea, and managed to maintain his balance and actually jump over the spinning floor. Not long after, a series of floorboards that shifted very sharply from side to side seemed to try and put Keith right through the glass panels on either side. Keith found himself squashed up against glass quite a bit in that portion, but mercifully, none of it broke, and he made it through without bleeding profusely- considering the massive quantity of potentially breakable glass in the room, he deemed that a big plus.

    At last, at long last, Keith could see it! Just ahead of one final patch of spinning floorboards, easily jumped over, Keith spotted the door!" Yes!" he cheered, once he had cleared that final frenzied floorboard. "The door! C'mon, guys, let's keep moving," he stated, reaching for the handle and hoping he wasn't about to hear that voice again (which meant, of course, he probably was about to hear it).


    OOC: I hope this is alright. I've never had an updater ask me to describe the obstacles I face in a given area, so please tell me if I ventured into the area of self-updating so I can fix it.

    I HAVE CLAIMED WEEZING. YOU ARE NOT WORTHY.
    The Hoenn of Hoenness- Chapter 6 up now!
    404 Error 2: File Not Found- Chapter 12 up now!
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    Banner done by me. I do not do requests. The Shinies are not up for trade. Vote Missingno. for new SSB4 fighter!

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  4. #329
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    Quote Originally Posted by Ex-Admiral Insane View Post
    (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

    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?
    {I think some of my Pokemon would want to "talk" to your secretary regardless... Anyway, thanks for picking me up, hopefully we can finish this up quickly so more people get a chance to adventure here and die!}

    With Delilah having evolved, a new light began to shine, and it filled Hyrem with- what? Why did you interrupt me? ...You're saying you've heard it before? Ugh, fine...anyway, Hyrem became renewed with vigor and began swimming toward the Harvester of Eyes while Delilah and the blue Frillish set out to destroy the rest of the eyes on the wall. Despite Hyrem trying to be the center of the Harvester's attention, her eyes remained Locked On Frillish instead. This did, however, give Frillish and Delilah a much needed opportunity as the jellyfish combined his Surf attack with Delilah's powerful Thunderbolt; water crashed against some of the irises and washed them out of existence, while electricity coursed through a good section of the dome exploding the eyes stuck there, and about half of the remaining eyes left on the wall were demolished in this manner. The Harvester's anger grew, and she prepared to eliminate Frillish with her next attack, but Hyrem, spotting her focus, kicked his way towards the costume until he could grasp onto it proper using one hand--which felt very weird to the touch, by the way--then thrusting his other hand directly into as many eyes as he could, one at a time, so he would be sure of their destruction. He would only get about five of them this way, but it was enough to get the Harvester's attention as well as a bloodcurdling scream.

    "Did you forget about something!?" Hyrem taunted, ignoring the screaming as best he could while five eyes moved from the wall and onto the costume. Meanwhile, Delilah and the blue Frillish were preparing a second combination of attacks as the Lanturn quickly unleashed another Thunderbolt while Frillish was charging up another Surf attack to boost Delilah's speed and attempt to wipe out the remaining eyes on the wall. However, Hyrem's attack was not enough to deter the Harvester from firing a powerful Electric attack that homed in on the marked Frillish...and it only took one Zap Cannon to finish him off. Hyrem and Delilah's focus faltered for a moment as they watched their friend's unconscious body float slowly towards the ground. Now it was just the two of them against the Harvester, and Delilah's most recent Thunderbolt only took out 10 eyes, leaving 15 of them still left on the wall.

    As if on cue, the voices in Hyrem's head earlier sounded off once again, causing him to lose his hold on the Harvester's costume as he had to cover his eyes once again to try to shut out the pain swelling in them. Voices the boy recognized belonging to Tuner and TA were still echoing their suffering, as well as other kids who began to show him what they suffered...no, it was how he remembered they were suffering. ...Or was it? These countless lives couldn't have been his own...could they? But Tuner...Hyrem met the boy and his Duskull before this point, yet he could recall the very moment his eyes were painfully plucked out and taken from him. And TA...just like Tuner, the two boys had met each other, but the insanity that took hold after TA lost his eyes felt as if it belonged to Hyrem...maybe it did. Maybe the kids he met at the beginning...maybe all the kids who met their fate here...maybe they were all just a bunch of "Hyrems".

    ...

    No.

    I'm sorry, but that's just plain stupid.

    And Hyrem thankfully figured that out. How could he possibly have been all these victims when two of them entered Mantine Mania with him AT THE SAME TIME!? Still, discovering that his mind was playing tricks on him wasn't going to stop the voices from pounding his mind into oblivion, though it would be a nice start. ...Wait. Why were they even attacking him? Wouldn't it make more sense to go after the one who stripped them of their lives in the first place? You know, the goofy-looking Mantine mascot suit sporting extra eyeballs? Even if all of these victims were really a bunch of "Hyrems", that meant that he had been a total moron for decades in multiple lives! And that would be really stupid. Also disgustingly sick and creepy. Because the Harvester of Eyes would have been attacking him and only him for decades...you'd think she'd get bored of it at some point. But then again she's a psychopathic monster, so who knows?

    Anyway, all Hyrem knew at that point, other than the fact that there were multiple voices he had to contend with, was that he and Delilah were almost out of time. "Delilah!" he cried out to his Lanturn, still holding his head. "Use Discharge to get rid of the rest of the eyes on the wall! Nngh... Then hit the Harvester with everything you've got...Wild Charge, then a Thunder attack to finish her off!"

    "Laaa!?" Delilah cooed back with concern; used underwater, such powerful and widespread Electric attacks like Discharge or Thunder had the risk of hurting her beloved trainer!

    "Don't worry about me...just END THIS NOW!!" he shouted out, using the pain in his head to deliver the urgency of his orders.

    "Laaaa..." she cooed again, still hesitant but willing to obey her trainer nonetheless as she swam towards the last of the eyes on the wall.

    Now Hyrem turned his full attention towards the voices in his head. I don't know who everyone is, he thought, hoping it would somehow be communicated to the voices, but please...stop attacking me! Go after the Harvester of Eyes, she's the one behind all this! I know she's scary, but we've already taken out a bunch of eyes! That had to have weakened her somehow, it just had to! She's probably the weakest she's ever been in a long time, but if we don't take advantage of it now, we won't get another chance! I may not be able to save anyone by defeating her--and if so, I'm sorry--but we can at least stop her from harming others, from harming my friends! No...our friends...those that live on because of us and what we do now! Please...everyone...don't hurt me...help me instead!!

    My claimed Pokemon is...Seviper!

  5. #330
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    Quote Originally Posted by Ex-Admiral Insane View Post

    ~Please reply in Slategray~

    The Park

    The Ghost Train

    Fishyfool: ~ After this, you and Liltwick will be updated together as long as you stay together.
    While you’re left in wonder of the train’s inexplicable lack of reason, the three enigmatic shades ahead of you decide to accept its offer. Before you even knew it, you found yourself walking into the same direction towards the doors’ haunting light. Your senses return, if perhaps momentarily, to question you on your endeavour. The Gothorita beside you remained in her calm disposition as she looks back at you. You usher her on to go ahead, perhaps out of fear, perhaps out of reason. Pokémon were more well known for holding their ground, if only at times by a trainer’s command. This, who knows, might be a just reason for exploiting that unspoken gospel.

    You walk up the station’s steps and pass the sleek black carriage. You can make out the shape of what appears to be a boy, almost a man, and what appeared to be two Pokémon by his side, sitting on the carriage’s bench. You’re not halted by this recent development, but feel slightly more relaxed as the idea of a threat dwindles, if only upheld by the unanswerable question of his presence.

    The doors open as silently as the world outside, welcoming you in with little restraint. Your Gothorita walks ahead of you as ordered before you quickly, but calmly, follow her suit. You have but a moment to glance at the trainer and take him in, his face mask being his most distinguishing feature, before a voice from the shadows calls to you.

    “Stop! That train’s not for you!”

    In some haunted attempt to silence the voice, the doors trap mercilessly behind you and the train’s whistle bellows with the belch of smoke. Your slightly caught off guard by the sudden motion beneath your feet as the train shifts into a steady pace. Through the door windows you can see a yellow figure of a man beckoning towards you before the train moves away. You take one final glance at the quiet boy you shared the carriage with, who stares back at you with equal eyes of question. Both of you are thrown into the dark abyss of the tunnel, left with nothing but the carriage light, which decided to ominously flicker and underscore the mood.

    What do you say/do?


    With curious yet tentative steps, Alex approached the unusualy placed train, with Paine just in front of him, the giant carriages of the locomotive looming like buildings as the pair started to climb the platform. As he took in the sight of the train up close, he could feel an air of resplendence around it: even with the atmosphere, the creators of the train must have put their love into the machine, with its ebon panels and ivory bracing, the carriage of the train a laboured effort by unknown hands, appearing as new as the day it was first rolled onto the tracks.

    As he passed the window, he could see vaguely inside, to something he hadn't expected. The strange figure and wisps, which had entered the train before him, appeared to be a teen and two pokemon, judging by their height and form, though which pokemon he couldn't be sure of. The human certainly looked alive, and with no immediate signs of being an apparition, though given the angle it was difficult to confirm the fact, and looked to be male.

    Huh...interesting. Though I'm surprised there's someone else here, at the very least they don't seem to be a threat... he thought to himself as the doors of the carriage lay open, as though inviting him and the Gothorita within. With the revelation of the thing's identity, he felt a little more at ease, though his heart still thumped in anticipation, a natural act given the realisation of being in a place with a name like Phantom Isle.

    As the pair entered, Alex stepped into the cabin fully, the psychic pokemon looking at the seating opposite the stranger before settling herself down while Alex's mind chugged away, taking in the boy's details. Scruffy discoloured brown hair, amber eyes - they looked like, from this angle - some face mask, probably to ward off the miasma, possibly asthmatic, casual wear, sizable backpack. The pokemon with him, Pachirisu - poor thing was trembling - and some sort of living candle, Litwick, he believed it was...

    "Stop! That train's not for you!"

    With that cry, the train, as though it had a mind of its own, slammed the doors behind Alex shut, and the banshee's shrill whistle drowned out the voice's calls, a shudder as the locomotive began to move knocking Alex off balance as he grabbed a nearby support to steady himself, Paine still disturbingly calm as though this was an everyday commute. Gazing out the sealed door windows, he could spot a yellow humanoid figure, taller and slimmer than a Drowzee - was that a Hypno, perhaps - before turning, slightly shocked at the sudden movement of the train towards the stranger, before the train and the group were swallowed by the darkness.

    With mind abuzz, Alex took a few seconds for his brain to digest what the situation was: the pair were inside a strange train, with another person who looked like they were alive, a terrified Pachirisu and a docile looking Litwick, which had locked them within the carriage as someone tried in vain to get them off before disembarking into a tunnel of some sorts. Thankfully, to use such a term, there was a flickering light within the carriage, giving them some visual cue of the interior. As the outside was masterclass, so too was the interior of the carriage, in the form that only nobility could accept. Giving a small sigh, he took a couple steps down the aisle and took the bench opposite their sudden companion.

    With a second once-over, Alex scratched his head, wondering on the ettiquete of train talk, before remembering that this train was possibly responsible for kiling dozens, and thus common courtesy in regards to behaviour on the train were thrown out the window. With a gentle chime, Paine seemingly trying to soothe his nerves, Alex figured the best step was to try and get to know the other trainer, or at the very least the basics while he tried to get his head round the immaculate conditions of what should be a burnt out husk.

    "Alex. Paine, with an e," he motioned to himself and the Gothorita, who gave the masked man a casual wave. "You got a name, uh...lad? More to the point, what brings you here? Me, I'm interested in seeing where this train goes, and why it's, well, an actual train. Not a small one either, a proper locomotive."

    Even if the human opposite didn't respond with much, a name alone would give him something to fall back on, as the prospect of calling him lad was something far more sinister than whatever lay beyond the darkness.


    I reject your Nyancats and replace it with my own.
    FB

  6. #331
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    Quote Originally Posted by enchantress View Post
    Phantom Isle
    The Haunted Theme Park


    The Park
    Merry-Go-Round: Looks just like a normal Merry-Go-Round right? Think again. Take the trip of a lifetime, or maybe just your life, and see what mysteries lie within the maze beneath the Merry-Go-Round. Not such a fun-filled looking ride now is it?
    Ever since she had heard about the Phantom Isle from Karmas yonks ago, Lana had been interested in going to the haunted theme park. Well interested probably wasn't the right word. Intrigued may have worked better. She had fond memories of going to theme parks with her family, of the days she would spend running around between rides, insisting that they ride one specific ride at least twenty times until she felt sick. They were good times, they were more pleasant times. One ride in particular that Lana had absolutely been in love with as a kid was the Merry Go Round. Lana didn’t really understand why she had liked it so much, perhaps it had something to do with the one near home having so many of her favourite pokemon as the rides. So not only was Phantom Isle home to an amusement park, it was also haunted, something that peaked Lana’s inner goth.

    It was that nostalgia with just a hint of her inner goth that lead her to the Merry Go Round. She’d heard that there was rumours that a maze lied underneath it, yet another thing about the Phantom Isle that intrigued Lana. With Spritzel resting on her shoulder and Seer hovering behind her, its back star turning as it was kept afloat, Lana took a step towards the Merry Go Round, ready for whatever adventure awaited her. Though, Lana did hope that she was going to be able to get a good ride on it first.

    “Let’s do this guys!” she announced, pumping her fist in the air.

    Spritzel let out a little cry of excitement, matching Lana’s enthusiasm. Seer on the other hand, just sorta continued to hover there, its lack of a face not allowing Lana to get even a little glimpse of what it was thinking.

  7. #332
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    Quote Originally Posted by Ex-Admiral Insane View Post
    The Hotel

    The Lobby
    Aposteriori:

    The Hypno listens intently, not glancing away for even a second, as you detail your aspiration in life, your desires and wishes for your stay. Finally, you come to your vice of smoking and with it the end of your story.

    “Ohohoh,” the Hypno chuckles, “I think we can hardly call smoking a deplorable sin; it’s more of a vice wouldn’t you say? No worries sir, there’s absolutely nothing to be ashamed about. But what an interesting story you have; your endeavour to research the flying types is rather refreshing I might say. It fills my heart with joy to see youngsters with such an ambition and thirst for knowledge. I think we can cater exactly to your needs here, and gladly so.” He turns to the hanging stack of keys behind him. “Now let’s see, research and science - I do think was on the fifth floor. Now as for room, antique, flying, maybe 34, or was it 67, no wait…”

    He continues mumbling his thoughts to himself, leaving you anxiously waiting. “…or was it one. Ah, now I got it, it’s room 99 but which one…” He continues on for a while again. Finally, he cheers in a state of eureka and hands you the key to your room. “Here we go, Room 99.4, yes that was it, a fine room indeed. I hope you’ll find it to your liking. Despite the odd number he presented, you take the key from the smiling Hypno. “And don’t forget your complementary hotel gift, our way of saying thanks for your stay.” He hands you a couple of berries.

    You obtained 1 x Key to Room 99.4, 2 x Oran Berries, 2 x Persim Berries and 2 x Lum Berries
    The Hypno tips his hat in a polite farewell as you take off for your room. The elevator doors, as you quickly realised, were out of order, thus forcing you to take the stairs. On your trip there, you manage to take in the other hallways. All of them, with not a single exception, had poor lighting, overturned carpets, dust and some were even littered with thrash. It didn’t look like the hotel was in business at all but, rather like much of the rest of the park, left in a state of grim disrepair. Your own hallway wasn’t any better. Sure the lighting was a slight improvement over the others but the buzzing that came off the lamps wasn’t reassuring.

    When passing the many doors on either side, you notice the odd numbering that made no sense at all, 33.4 was followed by 12.5 and then by 84.3 for example before going back to 33.5. The hallways split seemingly countless times in unimaginable turns, leaving you wandering the floor for quite some time. By chance, you manage to pass the room with number 99.4, if only because it was the only door that had received a fresh coat of paint and was adorned with a bronze lock.

    You turn the key and open the door with a rusted creak before a bright flash hits your eyes and blinds you. You stumble around a while, almost scratching your eyes in pain before your vision slowly returns in splashes. In front of you stood, by all accounts, an antique room in the style of the 19th century. A hardwood floor covered with a stitched rug, off-colour white wallpaper on all sides and the flames of the chandelier and kerosene lamp to shed light. Opposite you was the wooden frame of the four poster bed, practically overflowing with its many layers of sheets and embroidered pillows. Beside the bed were the two slender, white, drawn curtains covering the small stretch of windows. Looking further around you find a dressing table, closet, coffee table, nightstand - all in the matching style - and a small bookcase with literature from the greats like King, Lindqvist, Stoker, Rice and Le Fanu; all at your disposal while you stayed. The only thing that didn’t match the setting was the black box beside the bed that was the telephone. You instantly recall the Hypno having mentioned a masseuse, and reason you could probably use it to call for room service or other luxuries if requested.

    What do you want to do first?


    “Thank you so much for the complimentary items. I will put these away for now.” Aposteriori places the berries in their pouch, while adding the room key into his key pocket of his book bag. The trainer bids Hypno farewell at the counter, leaving with a sense of discomfort as to why he would get such an odd number. “Room 99.4. What is that about?”

    On his way to the room, he notices as dysfunctional elevator. This could leave anyone displeased, and especially those who travel a lot. Aposteriori takes the stairs, but everywhere he turned, there was poor lighting, and possible something lingering inside the pile of trash. All he could think of was the potential for an allergen to activate a sneezing fit. The doors are not help to the researcher. The numbers either jump or down. The decimal point keeps distracting the trainer. It is all a mess. After several attempts of finding his hall, he is finally there. The trainer reaches the inside of the room, which make the trainer feel much safer than before at least.

    The lighting worried the trainer because the scene just came out straight from a Hollywood horror movie. Nothing can go right when you hear lights buzzing, and see them flickering. He wasn’t about to show the receptionist that deep down inside he was feeling a bit ominous about the surroundings. With a worried smile, Aposteriori would have liked the company of Hypno, if at least for some small talk given how poorly kept the surroundings are, and how desolate it feels. It is almost depressing. One interesting detail though, his room had a bronze knob, which was very different from the other rooms that he kept on passing.

    “That was a very distracting bright flash of light.” The trainer is unsure as to why he was blinded as he walked in. “This room is everything I could have hoped for. The curtains match the drapes. The throw pillows look luxurious and comfortable. I just snuggle into that bed and rest all night long. Ahh. One good night of rest. I rarely get those nowadays.” Aposteriori thought to himself, trying to cheer himself up and forget all the things wrong with the hotel. He has a deep appreciation for anything that is handmade, including the elegantly stitched rug. He understands that patterns like those are hard to come by in modern times, and if you do attempt to buy something of that caliber, it would probably cost an arm or a leg. In his mind, he still wonders how they were able to match the furniture to T. Well, except for the phone; that was the only thing that stood out as different from everything within the room.

    “Im soo freaking tired, and these knots on my back are driving me up the wall. Carrying around this book bag, filled with soo many items, it could leave anyone hunchback in a pinch.” Aposteriori recalls that the Hypno mentioned something about a masseuse. His interest is peaked, and he would not mind going for one at this very moment. If only the cost was something within his range.

    Aposteriori reaches for the phone and dials for the service. He ponders if someone will pick up on the other side of the line as a few rings are heard. Aposteriori just assumes it was the Hypno from earlier, though he is unsure if someone picks up. It has been a while so he just starts to talk. “You have been so kind and gentle with me Hypno. You mentioned something about a masseuse just moments ago. I'm calling for some room service to get the masseuse over here. Would you mind calling that person over? I could use these services to get some knots out of my back.” The researcher stretches his shoulders and arm widely enough as he prepares to relax for the night as he continues to hold the phone to his ear, awaiting for an answer.
    Last edited by Aposteriori; 17th April 2016 at 1:10 PM.

  8. #333
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    Quote Originally Posted by Ex-Admiral Insane View Post
    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?
    ((Thanks for picking me up EAI! I realize I haven’t written a bio for Luther yet, but you’re not far off in how I envision the character. Hopefully I can flesh him out enough throughout this adventure ))

    Luther’s eyebrow rose at the sight of a Hypno wearing a cane and a top hat. As if he didn’t have enough reasons to think poorly of Psychic-Types.

    Pokemon are creatures with enough power to rule this world – not just the ones humans have taken to calling “Dark”. Psychically proficient Pokemon in particular should have no trouble whatsoever in overthrowing the weak-minded Mankind, but they choose to remain in slavery… Why creatures with the unparalleled intellect of Alakazam or the prowess of Metagross continue to bow to us humans astounds and saddens me. But to think I hold any manner of grudge against ghosts or psychics… absurd.

    He cleared his throat, measuring his words before he uttered them, and finally replied.

    - I believe we’ve not been acquainted, yet you are quick to judge me. My plea was sincere – I offered my services to the denizens of Phantom Isle. I did so selfishly, as to allow my Pokemon family to grow, but I assure you I mean no harm to your kind or any other dwelling on these grounds. I do not disregard your brethren as much as I pity your choices, but that is another matter altogether. If anything, it’s Humanity I despise.

    He approached the counter and locked eyes with Hypno, unintimidated but undoubtedly curious.

    - For someone who despises me that much to come out and ask for my help… How bitter a pill was that to swallow, my friend? I’ll tell you what. I will help you with your situation on the upper floor, and when that is resolved… I invite you to attempt to “strike me down” as you so crave. Let us both keep that desire of yours in mind for when the time comes, yes?

    His voice had its usual low-pitched, calm tone and he wore the easy smile that came with decades of entrepreneurial relations. But both he and no doubt Hypno knew what he truly meant by those words.

    The black-and-white haired man turned around and headed for the elevator, pressing “up”. He would see to the ghosts’ needs and prove to Hypno and its master that he meant no harm… unless he was harmed. As he waited, he found himself lost in thought, stemming from the Hypno’s words…

    Psychic-Types fail to realize their own potential for domination, choosing to live in needless obedience to Man; Ghost-Types failed to resolve their issues before death and linger helplessly in the world of the living. I wish no harm to either, yet I can’t help but pity them. And therein lies the absurdity of it all – because even if they are powerless against my own allies, both those Psychic and Ghost-Types I pity could dispose of me in a heartbeat. Curious and flawed thing, the human mind…

  9. #334
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    Quote Originally Posted by Ex-Admiral Insane View Post




    The Ghost Train
    Liltwick:
    ~ After this, you and fishyfool will be updated together as long as you stay together.
    With little hesitance you decide to accept the train’s ominous invitation and head through the carriage doors. Your Pachirisu continues to beg you to reconsider but decisions based on fear would not take control and lead you. Instead, an interesting development based on confronting the steel monster was what you hoped and craved. The interior was a welcome sight, standing in stark contrast to the gloomy outdoors with its bright lights and soft cushions spread on the two benches on either side. Gently, you place yourself on one of the benches, all the while taking in the sight and expecting something peculiar to happen at any moment.

    The train remains in its motionless state yet trembling and you start to wonder about the mysterious figure in the fog and if it would catch up to you. Was it perhaps attempting to scare you into the train, or perhaps trying to dissuade you in the first place? Your memories and thoughts are interrupted and answered by the slow and dramatic approach of footsteps outside. With the light reflecting off the carriage windows you can only discern the soft shape of the dark figure walking beside the station. While not easily scared, you and your Pokémon hold your breath for a brief moment as you’re kept in wonder.

    Then the carriage doors open, and the footsteps become louder. Entering the train was the small figure of a black and white clothed girl followed by the tall figure of a young man aged a few years ahead of you. The two turn to you to in silence and look you over. Before either of you can say anything to one another you hear a separate voice calling to you from the mists.

    “Stop! That train’s not for-!”

    As if to drown the voice of reason, the carriage doors close behind the man and the trains sets into motion. With slow, repeated chugs, the wheels hit the tracks in a symphony of steel and concrete. Out of the window you can make out the dim sight of a yellow creature looking at you with eyes that flare in both distress and malice.

    You take one last quiet look at your new accomplice before the two of you enter the repaired tunnel of the Ghost Train. Black sheets of shadow hug the trains windows while the carriage’s lamps pass out momentarily at every thump until it reaches the steady rhythm of a heart. There was no turning back now.

    What do you say/do?

    -----

    Quote Originally Posted by fishyfool View Post
    With curious yet tentative steps, Alex approached the unusualy placed train, with Paine just in front of him, the giant carriages of the locomotive looming like buildings as the pair started to climb the platform. As he took in the sight of the train up close, he could feel an air of resplendence around it: even with the atmosphere, the creators of the train must have put their love into the machine, with its ebon panels and ivory bracing, the carriage of the train a laboured effort by unknown hands, appearing as new as the day it was first rolled onto the tracks.

    As he passed the window, he could see vaguely inside, to something he hadn't expected. The strange figure and wisps, which had entered the train before him, appeared to be a teen and two pokemon, judging by their height and form, though which pokemon he couldn't be sure of. The human certainly looked alive, and with no immediate signs of being an apparition, though given the angle it was difficult to confirm the fact, and looked to be male.

    Huh...interesting. Though I'm surprised there's someone else here, at the very least they don't seem to be a threat... he thought to himself as the doors of the carriage lay open, as though inviting him and the Gothorita within. With the revelation of the thing's identity, he felt a little more at ease, though his heart still thumped in anticipation, a natural act given the realisation of being in a place with a name like Phantom Isle.

    As the pair entered, Alex stepped into the cabin fully, the psychic pokemon looking at the seating opposite the stranger before settling herself down while Alex's mind chugged away, taking in the boy's details. Scruffy discoloured brown hair, amber eyes - they looked like, from this angle - some face mask, probably to ward off the miasma, possibly asthmatic, casual wear, sizable backpack. The pokemon with him, Pachirisu - poor thing was trembling - and some sort of living candle, Litwick, he believed it was...

    "Stop! That train's not for you!"

    With that cry, the train, as though it had a mind of its own, slammed the doors behind Alex shut, and the banshee's shrill whistle drowned out the voice's calls, a shudder as the locomotive began to move knocking Alex off balance as he grabbed a nearby support to steady himself, Paine still disturbingly calm as though this was an everyday commute. Gazing out the sealed door windows, he could spot a yellow humanoid figure, taller and slimmer than a Drowzee - was that a Hypno, perhaps - before turning, slightly shocked at the sudden movement of the train towards the stranger, before the train and the group were swallowed by the darkness.

    With mind abuzz, Alex took a few seconds for his brain to digest what the situation was: the pair were inside a strange train, with another person who looked like they were alive, a terrified Pachirisu and a docile looking Litwick, which had locked them within the carriage as someone tried in vain to get them off before disembarking into a tunnel of some sorts. Thankfully, to use such a term, there was a flickering light within the carriage, giving them some visual cue of the interior. As the outside was masterclass, so too was the interior of the carriage, in the form that only nobility could accept. Giving a small sigh, he took a couple steps down the aisle and took the bench opposite their sudden companion.

    With a second once-over, Alex scratched his head, wondering on the ettiquete of train talk, before remembering that this train was possibly responsible for kiling dozens, and thus common courtesy in regards to behaviour on the train were thrown out the window. With a gentle chime, Paine seemingly trying to soothe his nerves, Alex figured the best step was to try and get to know the other trainer, or at the very least the basics while he tried to get his head round the immaculate conditions of what should be a burnt out husk.

    "Alex. Paine, with an e," he motioned to himself and the Gothorita, who gave the masked man a casual wave. "You got a name, uh...lad? More to the point, what brings you here? Me, I'm interested in seeing where this train goes, and why it's, well, an actual train. Not a small one either, a proper locomotive."

    Even if the human opposite didn't respond with much, a name alone would give him something to fall back on, as the prospect of calling him lad was something far more sinister than whatever lay beyond the darkness.
    There became a point where people had to ask “What now?” Austin was at this point. He boarded the train, but now what? All he could feel was the trembling of Kai as the Pachirisu tried to adapt to its surroundings. Wisp was oddly quiet. Something was wrong. Though, there was always something wrong. If life didn’t have challenges, then what was the actual point towards it? The cycle of life and deaths continues... But, was he outside of it? Austin didn’t know.

    Before he could continue contemplating, he heard the doors of the train screech open. An older man boarded, along with a gothic girl. Upon closer inspection, it was actually a Gothorita. At least, it seemed like it. He heard a noise from the fog, something about the train wasn’t meant for them. The doors closed again before whatever made the noise could finish. There was no turning back. There never was turning back. If people had the ability to rewrite their lives, then they wouldn't actually be alive. Life... Was that something he was lacking? Austin felt a small pain in his heart.

    How long was he in thought? He didn’t notice the other human take a seat opposite to him. It would be easier to follow fate. Two strangers weren’t suddenly thrusted into the other on a murder train. The isles had a plan for them. But the point of fate is to challenge it. The only things guaranteed in life was death and taxes. The only thing that really caught his interest from the opposing human was the inquiry to Austin’s name. He didn’t want to deal with that man. Memories were here. Was William here with him? Did William die in that fire...? No. William was alive, somewhere. Back to the present. Name. Name. What was his name again?

    “My name?” He looked out the window “I don’t really remember it at this moment. Austin. That’s it... But that’s all. I rather... Be alone at this moment,” he managed to piece together a response. Human contact was hard after leaving Virbank. Whatever. That’s life.


    We'll be together forever, won't we?
    Fizzy Bubbles

  10. #335
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    Quote Originally Posted by Ex-Admiral Insane View Post
    (Welcome Bleu to my haunted collection of updates. My receptionist will fill out your forms. *Points to dead Rattata on desk*)

    ~Please reply in Slategray~

    The Hotel

    The Lobby

    Lt. BLEU™: ~ please don’t forget to add a link to your profile in either your signature or replies
    You crashed rather violently into the deserted theme park, landing right outside a run-down shamble of a hotel. With your time machine in need of time itself to repair, the irony of which was lost on you, you decided you might as well stroll around and look for anything peculiar or of interest. Who knows? Most adventures start by an unpredicted turn of events, perhaps your crash-landing would be a blessing in disguise, something that would be very unlikely if you had any idea as to where you were.

    When stepping outside though, the faint glimmer of a memory resonates in your mind and the surroundings have an eerie resemblance to another place you’ve once visited and fought a war. The dreary sight of the landscape provoked you to return, and quickly. You’d rather not stay here. Chrysophylax, on the other hand, had her plans and speeds off from you. In the blur of rattled emotions, you instantly shout out the wrong name, recalling, instead, another shard of a sombre memory, forcing you to chase after the Bagon inside.

    Inside you find your Pokémon in a spooked state, with no apparent cause for her discomfort. The place was filled with dust, cobwebs and lack of lighting. Barely a breeze fluttered by to breathe life into this place, a grey husk of its former self, but nothing stood out as chiefly frightening. You take a last glance around and decide that, while you were here anywhere, you might as well find answers to this place’s origins. The reception desk was your first port of call. Despite it’s apparent abandonment, you try the reception bell, producing a chime that resonates throughout the hall. For a while, nothing happens, and then the same ring echoes back into the hall. The tinkle reverberates down the hallways and back up a couple more times as it dies down gently, and only once it did could you hear an ominous sound coming from outside.

    What was it? You weren’t exactly sure. The sound was distant and faint but appeared to have the tone of a sighing song. A whale perhaps? A sick wolf? You listen for a few more seconds but hear nothing any more. You wait a few more second to be sure, your Bagon preferring to wait a few longer as she pulls herself closely to you, and then hesitantly head towards the door to inspect.

    Your footsteps echo across the hall and you manage only a few before another noise draws your attention. This time it was happier, giggling even, and came from inside.

    “…why…here...ask...no…see…”

    The small whispers of children float by your ears as you turn your head to make out the source of the sound. Your Bagon clings closer to you, as if having heard the voices before. Was this why she was so spooked when you found her?

    “…maybe…fun…cry…fun…go…no…you…”

    You question where it came from as the whispers turn into a soft buzz of words, forgoing their earlier stillness. Thoughts and fears bubble up inside you as you question where you’ve managed to land now, and what all those noises outside and inside were.

    How do you react?

    The hotel room was abandoned and spooky. It was filled with dust and webs. There was barely any clean air as The Doctor coughed. Chrysophylax was getting comfortable due to the presence of The Doctor. The Doctor though still wondered why she was spooked in the first place. He got down towards her. “Hey, buddy.” Said The Doctor, trying to comfort his partner. “What’s wrong? Did you see anything? Did you hear anything?” The Doctor was concerned. Bagon though did not answer, in fact, she hugged The Doctor tightly. “Alright, alright. I would have picked you up if you were not so heavy.” The Doctor said jokingly. “Come on then, Let’s try the reception shall we? We might have someone waiting for us?” The Doctor was not scared yet, in fact, he was getting a little exited.

    The Doctor rang the bell, not really expecting anyone to be there. “Hello! Anyone home?” There was a moment of silence, a rather eerie one. Then, after a few moments, the sound of the bell echoed back. The echo was long and repeated a couple of times. The Doctor turned behind, looking at a closed door, he heard an ominous sound, coming from behind the closed door. “What?” The Doctor was surprised. The faint sound, although was at a distance, was prominent. “What could that have been?” The Doctor wondered. He went a little closer to the door, Chrysophylax followed him as they tried to catch the sound again, this time paying attention to it. “We’ll figure it out this time, Chrys, we definitely will.” The Doctor was very attentive, he waited for a couple of minutes, but, nothing came back this time. “How could this be? What was it?” The Doctor was wondering if the sound would ever be heard again. “Let’s go a little further buddy.” Said the Doctor as he started to walk. His footsteps could be heard, loud and clear, but, no sign of the sound that they’d heard before.

    Before they had gone too far, a sound, quite happy one was heard, coming from inside. The sound caused Bagon to feel a shiver down her spine. She was so scared that she went right behind The Doctor’s legs and hid. “What?” The Doctor was clearly scared this time. He recognized the voice or at least, the voice was similar to the one he had heard a long, long time ago, even before he was in his older self. “But, but it can’t be.” The Doctor was so sure that it wasn’t the empty child. “What is it then?” The Doctor put on his brave face. “Who are you?” The Doctor asked loudly. “What do you want?”

    There was a silence, yet again. The Doctor was scared, but, showed not a single sign of being frightened. “Don’t worry, Chrys, we’ll get through this. We always have.”

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