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Sticky: Dec. 14th, 2016 01:15 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
When making a new entry, please use the following format, and be sure to add your character's name as a tag as well. If your character is an AU of the original, add 'AU'.
Not exactly a type advantage
Jun. 1st, 2016 06:30 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
WHO: Gregor, and whoever feels like giving the dork a hand
WHAT: The latest intro in the history of the universe oops
WHEN: Day 1
WHERE: Arriving in Illumina
WARNINGS: None
Frenzied pattering echoed throughout the caverns as his shoes collided with the hard, stone floors. He ran as fast as he could through the darkness, his sharp, panting breaths illuminating the obstacles ahead-- at least to Gregor. Learning echolocation was something he certainly did not regret. His Rager senses had deserted him, and his weapons were nowhere to be found... His sword, his dagger? Where had they gone?
With every step, the cold, penetrating chill of the Underland's deepest reaches cut into him even more, becoming so cold it burned. His skin tingled in the frigid air... He couldn't remember any part of the Underland being this cold. Where was he? Had he ever been there before? Everything seemed so strange and unfamiliar.
Then suddenly, the frozen floor crumbled below him, sending him tumbling into the dark... And the blades rose to meet him, jagged edges making his mind numb with awful, mortal pain--
The boy's eyes snapped open. An endless reach of blinding whiteness awaited him, bright enough to sting.
The cold pain did not fade, even as he awoke... Clearly that had not been simply a part of his dream. Gregor tried to push himself up with one hand... And instead, the sharp tip of a sword cut into the snowdrift. He stared dully at the sight, unable to comprehend it for a long moment. He had a sword? He couldn't feel himself holding anything... Come to think of it, he couldn't feel his hands at all...
... Alarmed, he scrutinized his arm more directly, and did a double-take. The blade was no sword, and he was not clutching it in his hand. Rather, it was his hand. His arm was covered in some kind of strange black armor, shiny and stiff. Slightly below the elbow, the limb morphed into a long, curved blade, like the end of a scythe. He glanced quickly to his other arm, and found it to be the same... Perhaps more bizarrely, the scars which had once marred his skin now gleamed dully on the shell-like covering, almost as if... It was not armor at all... But some kind of exoskeleton.
Heart pounding in his chest, he placed the two blades flat on the snow like a pair of deadly snow shoes, and pushed himself upright... What had happened to him? His entire body seemed to similarly transformed... Gregor dreaded to see what his face looked like. It seemed like something out of one of those awful horror flicks, where some unsuspecting teen was infected with an alien virus and mutated into some sort of psychotic monster thing. This just wasn't something that could really happen. It just wasn't.
It had to be a dream. That was the only answer...
The young Warrior gazed over the frozen landscape, and something caught his eye... A splotch of black against the pure, clean whiteness, laying in the snow. He leaned down... And felt his heart sink. To anyone else, it was just a toy, a simple plastic animal... But... To him...
'Look, it's Ares.' The little statement rung in his mind, spoken by the most innocent, kind little voice he had ever known...
A small plastic bat lay in the snow, one wing obscured by the drift. For a long moment, he remained there in silence, a flood of emotions and questions running through his mind... Where was Boots? Was she safe? Had she been taken here too..? Or had whoever had taken him here merely brought this to taunt him, to remind him of the life, the family, the friends he had left behind?
Would he ever see any of them again?
The howling of the frigid winds snapped him from his thoughts... And Gregor leaned down, carefully grasping the tiny object horizontally between his two scythes. Straightening, he looked back out to the landscape... There was nothing else that stood out, just an endless stretch of blizzard in every direction. He had no idea what way to go, but anywhere was better than here. Hopeless as it was, he began to trudge through the freezing white fluff, the wintery winds cutting through his exoskeletal armor with no resistance... The Warrior-turned-Scyther could already feeling himself becoming numb.
If there was refuge to be had... He hoped he would find it soon. Otherwise, it might be too late.
WHAT: The latest intro in the history of the universe oops
WHEN: Day 1
WHERE: Arriving in Illumina
WARNINGS: None
Frenzied pattering echoed throughout the caverns as his shoes collided with the hard, stone floors. He ran as fast as he could through the darkness, his sharp, panting breaths illuminating the obstacles ahead-- at least to Gregor. Learning echolocation was something he certainly did not regret. His Rager senses had deserted him, and his weapons were nowhere to be found... His sword, his dagger? Where had they gone?
With every step, the cold, penetrating chill of the Underland's deepest reaches cut into him even more, becoming so cold it burned. His skin tingled in the frigid air... He couldn't remember any part of the Underland being this cold. Where was he? Had he ever been there before? Everything seemed so strange and unfamiliar.
Then suddenly, the frozen floor crumbled below him, sending him tumbling into the dark... And the blades rose to meet him, jagged edges making his mind numb with awful, mortal pain--
The boy's eyes snapped open. An endless reach of blinding whiteness awaited him, bright enough to sting.
The cold pain did not fade, even as he awoke... Clearly that had not been simply a part of his dream. Gregor tried to push himself up with one hand... And instead, the sharp tip of a sword cut into the snowdrift. He stared dully at the sight, unable to comprehend it for a long moment. He had a sword? He couldn't feel himself holding anything... Come to think of it, he couldn't feel his hands at all...
... Alarmed, he scrutinized his arm more directly, and did a double-take. The blade was no sword, and he was not clutching it in his hand. Rather, it was his hand. His arm was covered in some kind of strange black armor, shiny and stiff. Slightly below the elbow, the limb morphed into a long, curved blade, like the end of a scythe. He glanced quickly to his other arm, and found it to be the same... Perhaps more bizarrely, the scars which had once marred his skin now gleamed dully on the shell-like covering, almost as if... It was not armor at all... But some kind of exoskeleton.
Heart pounding in his chest, he placed the two blades flat on the snow like a pair of deadly snow shoes, and pushed himself upright... What had happened to him? His entire body seemed to similarly transformed... Gregor dreaded to see what his face looked like. It seemed like something out of one of those awful horror flicks, where some unsuspecting teen was infected with an alien virus and mutated into some sort of psychotic monster thing. This just wasn't something that could really happen. It just wasn't.
It had to be a dream. That was the only answer...
The young Warrior gazed over the frozen landscape, and something caught his eye... A splotch of black against the pure, clean whiteness, laying in the snow. He leaned down... And felt his heart sink. To anyone else, it was just a toy, a simple plastic animal... But... To him...
'Look, it's Ares.' The little statement rung in his mind, spoken by the most innocent, kind little voice he had ever known...
A small plastic bat lay in the snow, one wing obscured by the drift. For a long moment, he remained there in silence, a flood of emotions and questions running through his mind... Where was Boots? Was she safe? Had she been taken here too..? Or had whoever had taken him here merely brought this to taunt him, to remind him of the life, the family, the friends he had left behind?
Would he ever see any of them again?
The howling of the frigid winds snapped him from his thoughts... And Gregor leaned down, carefully grasping the tiny object horizontally between his two scythes. Straightening, he looked back out to the landscape... There was nothing else that stood out, just an endless stretch of blizzard in every direction. He had no idea what way to go, but anywhere was better than here. Hopeless as it was, he began to trudge through the freezing white fluff, the wintery winds cutting through his exoskeletal armor with no resistance... The Warrior-turned-Scyther could already feeling himself becoming numb.
If there was refuge to be had... He hoped he would find it soon. Otherwise, it might be too late.
TREVENANT'S WOOD | DUNGEON MINGLE LOG
Apr. 21st, 2016 07:15 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Far back behind the ice, through a tunnel dripping wet, it can be found. A point where the ice becomes moist soil, a light visible in the distance. At first only one young pokemon came across this-wandering in to find lush green, and a ceiling of 'stars'. That one brought their friend. And then they brought their other friends. And more, and more-a secret clubhouse, just for them, hidden away from all the world.
The exception, naturally, would be those who already lived there.
About a week after the 'strange arrivals' come, children can be seen less and less in the town-and for good reason, many will say if pressed. Many of them have fallen ill-feeling groggy and achey, unable to do more than sleep. Worse, still, is what happens while they slumber-muttering as they curl in their beds, tossing and turning as if attacked.
The city is at a loss as to what the cause could be-but perhaps that soggy tunnel, hidden from most, could be the key...
[The dungeon that will be discovered upon reaching the clearing beneath the ice is a paradox of what the new pokemon will know; with walls of thick bramble, many ghosts roam the halls, and many of them are trickier than mere highwaymen and thieves-this is their home, and they will guard it in secrecy, casting sleep upon the ones they come across and causing nightmares for the ones involved. Worse, they could cause someone to sleep-walk..! A state in which even the closest ally can be perceived as an enemy. Most of the pokemon here are things like shuppet, and banette...abandoned things, who have no other home. There are a curiously large number of yamask as well, and who knows what spirits may lie in the deeper floors...
It is likely that the source of all of this is more than just tricksters floating between the walls after all.]
[[OOC - A 'Boss Post' will be made once relative progress is done in the main dungeon; in other words, if enough threads that started early on seem to be coming to their relative conclusion, the boss post will be made!]]
The exception, naturally, would be those who already lived there.
About a week after the 'strange arrivals' come, children can be seen less and less in the town-and for good reason, many will say if pressed. Many of them have fallen ill-feeling groggy and achey, unable to do more than sleep. Worse, still, is what happens while they slumber-muttering as they curl in their beds, tossing and turning as if attacked.
The city is at a loss as to what the cause could be-but perhaps that soggy tunnel, hidden from most, could be the key...
[The dungeon that will be discovered upon reaching the clearing beneath the ice is a paradox of what the new pokemon will know; with walls of thick bramble, many ghosts roam the halls, and many of them are trickier than mere highwaymen and thieves-this is their home, and they will guard it in secrecy, casting sleep upon the ones they come across and causing nightmares for the ones involved. Worse, they could cause someone to sleep-walk..! A state in which even the closest ally can be perceived as an enemy. Most of the pokemon here are things like shuppet, and banette...abandoned things, who have no other home. There are a curiously large number of yamask as well, and who knows what spirits may lie in the deeper floors...
It is likely that the source of all of this is more than just tricksters floating between the walls after all.]
[[OOC - A 'Boss Post' will be made once relative progress is done in the main dungeon; in other words, if enough threads that started early on seem to be coming to their relative conclusion, the boss post will be made!]]
My arms-and jaws-are also full
Mar. 7th, 2016 01:46 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
WHO: Amanda! AND YOU
WHAT: Info gathering has been prosperous...
WHEN: A few days after arrivals
WHERE: Sealeo Inn/elsewhere in Illumina
WARNINGS: CURSING I GUESS yeah
( The Mawile RETURNS )
WHAT: Info gathering has been prosperous...
WHEN: A few days after arrivals
WHERE: Sealeo Inn/elsewhere in Illumina
WARNINGS: CURSING I GUESS yeah
( The Mawile RETURNS )
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
WHO: 2/3 of the Enforcers and anyone else interested in drunk shenanigans.
WHAT: BOOZE! And then two rather drunk ex-cons.
WHEN: The same evening people find the town, the drunkards.
WHERE: Kangaskhan's cafe and then the city streets.
WARNINGS: Alcohol, possible references to alcoholism, language and potentially talk of things related to organized crime depending on where conversations go. Violence is not out of the question, either.
( Late Afternoon )
( Evening )
WHAT: BOOZE! And then two rather drunk ex-cons.
WHEN: The same evening people find the town, the drunkards.
WHERE: Kangaskhan's cafe and then the city streets.
WARNINGS: Alcohol, possible references to alcoholism, language and potentially talk of things related to organized crime depending on where conversations go. Violence is not out of the question, either.
( Late Afternoon )
( Evening )
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
WHO: Hatsu, and YOU
WHAT: Hatsu's carving his room outta the ice! ...Probably.
WHEN: ONE DAY A CALENDAR...WILL EXIST.
WHERE: Sealeo Inn
WARNINGS: Noneeeeexcept for Hatsu's mild cursing. Bad tree.
( I swear he's gonna have more icons soon )
WHAT: Hatsu's carving his room outta the ice! ...Probably.
WHEN: ONE DAY A CALENDAR...WILL EXIST.
WHERE: Sealeo Inn
WARNINGS: Noneeeeexcept for Hatsu's mild cursing. Bad tree.
( I swear he's gonna have more icons soon )
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
WHO: Shun and whoever is around to greet the firebirb
WHAT: A very late intro
WHEN: AT SOME POINT...we don't really have a calendar yet do we
WHERE: Entering Illumina
WARNINGS: None as yet, will edit if that changes.
[In the time he's had to deal with things like severe cold and exposure, Shun's never been particularly small. That and his coat meant he usually wasn't wanting for warmth, even on nights where the Resistance's supplies ran low and they were running out of places to hide. Unless he was lending it to Ruri, but then, he'd never had trouble enduring that either.
But sitting on a glacier with numb talons and numb wingtips, empty space between the Synchro Dimension and here and what the hell happened, he's realising what a disadvantage being small is here.]
What the hell--?
[He feels his mouth move, but it clicks like a beak, and when he sees himself in the glossy glacier he does a double-take before peering back into the ice, black and yellow eyes narrowed. He's a bird, certainly, and a bigger bird than any normal one in his world, but compared to his usual self he's miniscule. Even with his scarf wrapped around most of him, he can see himself tremoring slightly in the reflection, and he knows he has to find his way out of this cold or he'll die before he even gets to ask all the questions on his mind right now. Mind flipping between suspicion, confusion and trying to find what feels natural for this creature to move, he spreads his small wings - another two wing-like forms unfold beneath them, but even the most cursory glance at the thin, overfeathered joints would show they're not fit for flight themselves. They flail and shake as he tests them, just trying to get airborne to go towards that light in the distance, but his feet are numbing by the time he heaves himself into the sky and flaps towards the lights.
The chill is biting, though, and he finds himself stalling, fluttering downwards and having to recover far too often. The little body shakes again, like the feeling of something wanting to come up, but there's nothing in his lungs and nothing in his throat, and his wings don't seem to want to support him.
As he starts to dip again, the little bird's expression hardens, and the air almost seems to spark with its determination.]
It's not that easy to get rid of me.
[The bird's wings flare into heat and fire, melting a pit where he skims the ground and rises again, suddenly full of warmth and energy despite the situation he's been thrown into. Closer and closer to the city lights, the flame fades away but the new strength doesn't, and by the time he touches down neatly at the edge of the city, the cold tremors have faded like they were never there. He folds his wings with a lengthy, dismissive blink, gives the icy wastes one last look, and then hops through into the city proper.
He'll be approaching anyone who looks like a resident with a most sour look on his little birdly face.]
Explain what this is. Now.
WHAT: A very late intro
WHEN: AT SOME POINT...we don't really have a calendar yet do we
WHERE: Entering Illumina
WARNINGS: None as yet, will edit if that changes.
[In the time he's had to deal with things like severe cold and exposure, Shun's never been particularly small. That and his coat meant he usually wasn't wanting for warmth, even on nights where the Resistance's supplies ran low and they were running out of places to hide. Unless he was lending it to Ruri, but then, he'd never had trouble enduring that either.
But sitting on a glacier with numb talons and numb wingtips, empty space between the Synchro Dimension and here and what the hell happened, he's realising what a disadvantage being small is here.]
What the hell--?
[He feels his mouth move, but it clicks like a beak, and when he sees himself in the glossy glacier he does a double-take before peering back into the ice, black and yellow eyes narrowed. He's a bird, certainly, and a bigger bird than any normal one in his world, but compared to his usual self he's miniscule. Even with his scarf wrapped around most of him, he can see himself tremoring slightly in the reflection, and he knows he has to find his way out of this cold or he'll die before he even gets to ask all the questions on his mind right now. Mind flipping between suspicion, confusion and trying to find what feels natural for this creature to move, he spreads his small wings - another two wing-like forms unfold beneath them, but even the most cursory glance at the thin, overfeathered joints would show they're not fit for flight themselves. They flail and shake as he tests them, just trying to get airborne to go towards that light in the distance, but his feet are numbing by the time he heaves himself into the sky and flaps towards the lights.
The chill is biting, though, and he finds himself stalling, fluttering downwards and having to recover far too often. The little body shakes again, like the feeling of something wanting to come up, but there's nothing in his lungs and nothing in his throat, and his wings don't seem to want to support him.
As he starts to dip again, the little bird's expression hardens, and the air almost seems to spark with its determination.]
It's not that easy to get rid of me.
[The bird's wings flare into heat and fire, melting a pit where he skims the ground and rises again, suddenly full of warmth and energy despite the situation he's been thrown into. Closer and closer to the city lights, the flame fades away but the new strength doesn't, and by the time he touches down neatly at the edge of the city, the cold tremors have faded like they were never there. He folds his wings with a lengthy, dismissive blink, gives the icy wastes one last look, and then hops through into the city proper.
He'll be approaching anyone who looks like a resident with a most sour look on his little birdly face.]
Explain what this is. Now.
IT'S THE CITY-!
Feb. 23rd, 2016 01:51 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
WHO: Amanda, AND YOU
WHAT: Finding Illumina Finally
WHEN: Do they even have a calendar ohshit
WHERE: The Glacier
WARNINGS: People may swear. It happens.
( Amanda would like to wake up now )
WHAT: Finding Illumina Finally
WHEN: Do they even have a calendar ohshit
WHERE: The Glacier
WARNINGS: People may swear. It happens.
( Amanda would like to wake up now )
(no subject)
Feb. 22nd, 2016 12:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
WHO: The Dark Hand Enforcers and anyone running into a trio of weirdos.
WHAT: Finding out they've been abducted and turned into weird creatures. So, Tuesday for them.
WHEN: First day.
WHERE: Out in the cold.
WARNINGS: Probable language, but likely not much else.
[What do most people do when they wake up in an unfamiliar place, as something they weren't a moment ago? Probably scream and panic. But no, that's not what the Enforcers do. In fact, at first none of them say a word, just looking each other over and noting the extreme variation in what they've become. That is, until the cold settles in and Finn realizes that he feels colder than he ever has before, even in the arctic.]

Brrr-rr-rr-rr! G-guys, i-is it just me, or are we in the d-d-deep freeze of o-our lives?

[The other two share a glance before Chow shrugs and adjusts his sunglasses.]
Kinda chilly, but I wouldn't say it's a deep freeze. Sure ya didn't just get yer feathers wet flopped in the snow?

I dunno, I wouldn't go as far as Finn, but it is pretty cold out here. Maybe we oughta find somewhere outta the snow so's we can warm up.

Seconded, motion p-p-passed, come on you l-losers, w-w-we're findin' a cave or s-s-something.
[And so the trio heads out, a Murkrow and Shiny Rattata huddled together for warmth while an all black Combusken follows behind, shaking his head. A cave shouldn't be hard to find, right? And the odds of them stumbling over something (or someone) to delay their search are practically nill! ...Right?]
WHAT: Finding out they've been abducted and turned into weird creatures. So, Tuesday for them.
WHEN: First day.
WHERE: Out in the cold.
WARNINGS: Probable language, but likely not much else.
[What do most people do when they wake up in an unfamiliar place, as something they weren't a moment ago? Probably scream and panic. But no, that's not what the Enforcers do. In fact, at first none of them say a word, just looking each other over and noting the extreme variation in what they've become. That is, until the cold settles in and Finn realizes that he feels colder than he ever has before, even in the arctic.]

Brrr-rr-rr-rr! G-guys, i-is it just me, or are we in the d-d-deep freeze of o-our lives?

[The other two share a glance before Chow shrugs and adjusts his sunglasses.]
Kinda chilly, but I wouldn't say it's a deep freeze. Sure ya didn't just get yer feathers wet flopped in the snow?

I dunno, I wouldn't go as far as Finn, but it is pretty cold out here. Maybe we oughta find somewhere outta the snow so's we can warm up.

Seconded, motion p-p-passed, come on you l-losers, w-w-we're findin' a cave or s-s-something.
[And so the trio heads out, a Murkrow and Shiny Rattata huddled together for warmth while an all black Combusken follows behind, shaking his head. A cave shouldn't be hard to find, right? And the odds of them stumbling over something (or someone) to delay their search are practically nill! ...Right?]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
WHO: En Yufuin and everyone
WHAT: A furry icicle
WHEN: Day 1
WHERE: Just outside the city
WARNINGS: One lazy asshole discovering the ability Truant
En is very much aware that something is wrong, especially when he wakes up to chilly winds and expanse of white ice instead of white walls and a warm bed, but he's... not exactly sure what to do with this knowledge. Usually, his response to getting kidnapped is screaming and yelling, as most sane people do, but today his body just refuses to move. It's not that it's unusual for him to loaf around, it's just unusual that he's not reacting to something completely different.
He lays on the ice for maybe about ten minutes- during which he only heard his heart beat once per those minutes... was he dead?- before he feels something bubbling in his gut. It's slow to process, but the brown, fuzzy creature sits up and looks at his paws and reflection in the ice. His loveracet was still there... but everything else...
HAGGHHYYYYHHHAAAAAAAAAHHHHH! WHAT IS THIS?
. . . Ah. There it is.
WHAT: A furry icicle
WHEN: Day 1
WHERE: Just outside the city
WARNINGS: One lazy asshole discovering the ability Truant
En is very much aware that something is wrong, especially when he wakes up to chilly winds and expanse of white ice instead of white walls and a warm bed, but he's... not exactly sure what to do with this knowledge. Usually, his response to getting kidnapped is screaming and yelling, as most sane people do, but today his body just refuses to move. It's not that it's unusual for him to loaf around, it's just unusual that he's not reacting to something completely different.
He lays on the ice for maybe about ten minutes- during which he only heard his heart beat once per those minutes... was he dead?- before he feels something bubbling in his gut. It's slow to process, but the brown, fuzzy creature sits up and looks at his paws and reflection in the ice. His loveracet was still there... but everything else...
HAGGHHYYYYHHHAAAAAAAAAHHHHH! WHAT IS THIS?
. . . Ah. There it is.