Baymod Helpers (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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bopbay2025-05-10 10:00 am
bayhelpers) wrote in bopbay2025-05-10 10:00 am
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003 ⟡ MAY TEST DRIVE
⋆✩ test drive 03 ✩⋆
The day begins like any other.
Routines, eventful scenes, and boring errands — no matter what you were in the middle of, there's a moment where everything begins to feel wrong. A searing pain tears through your body, so intense that it feels like every nerve has been struck at once. Muscles spasm, joints scream in protest, and as you double over, you find yourself clawing or clinging at anything within your reach. As your attempts to maintain composure fail you, your bones begin to twist with an agonizing force, the pain rising in a crescendo until it becomes unbearable to even breathe. Then, as quickly as it began, everything stops.
For a single, terrifying moment, there's nothing. No sight, no sound, no touch, no taste, no smell — just the weight of nothingness swallowing you whole. The absence of sensation might even be worse than the pain, leaving you adrift in a void you can't escape. Hopelessness threatens every fiber of your existence, and try as you might to fight it, your darkest thoughts begin to surface, flooding your mind in an onslaught of suffocating feelings and ideas.
In the darkness, you hear a voice.
It's faint, a gentle flashing of something warm along the edges of your mind, like sunlight itself. It's a voice, but you can't identify who or what it comes from, how it sounds, or what it means — still, you know it's directed at you. Something tugs at your heart, a powerful ache that throbs once and ripples outwards. You can feel the aches again, like fresh sores throughout your body. You feel off, like something isn't quite right, like you're not where you should be, or who you should be. But the voice continues, whispered just beyond your understanding. The sound is warm like hope, and it wraps around you, distant yet intent, before you wake up.
i. arrivals
FROM TUNNELS DEEP
The scent of must meets your nostrils, perhaps more strongly than it normally would. To open your eyes is to meet the dark — though if you're fortunate it could be that something about this new body, or perhaps the body of another, leaves some faint illumination to see by. Either way it soon becomes clear that where you are is somewhere underground. They are deep and sprawling tunnels, with corners of some unknown civilization storied away in their many carvings and ruined pottery. Portions of the cavern walls even bear the appearance of old structures and dwellings, as if the earth itself swallowed a city whole.
Trickling through the tunnels in quiet streams are tendrils of fog. It's difficult to see, but not in the least hard to feel. The mist is damp and cloying, clinging to every inch it finds on you to the point that it seems to grasp at the very soul; and the longer one lets it have its way, the worst it feels. You begin to question your body. Your mind. Your very memories — are they really yours?
Staying underground may be unwise anyway. Diglett and Dugtrio soon make themselves known to the weary arrivals here, and unlike these newcomers they have had far too long to succumb to the mist. They will attack without hesitation, and the only options are to fight or flee above ground.
The forest above unfortunately is not much better. The fog here is thick, even if some light somehow makes its way through the canopy above. What could have once been helpful landmarks become sources of dizzying misunderstanding, and the gnarled trees seem to move when no one watches. Rescuers from the city will have their work cut out for them once it becomes clear how many could be stranded out there, and time will be of the essence. The sooner that these wanderers can be brought to the clinic to be treated, the better!
ii. under the weather
RAIN RAIN, GO AWAY
The first thing anyone will notice as the month of May truly sets in, is the rain. Light or heavy, sunny or cloudy, a near constant rain pours down upon Bottlecap Bay and its surrounding areas. There's no escaping it; it pours, and it pours, and it pours ever long, until it becomes impossible to do even basic tasks outside one's dwelling without getting soaked to the bone.
While it's not unusual to receive rain at this time of the year, the amount of rain is unnatural according to the Guild Leaders. To ensure no one suffers any more than they already have, all three are quick to open their doors to these new Pokemon in their midst. Or at least, they're quick to offer other foreigner's doors. Pokemon who originated from other worlds soon find themselves with new bunkmates and housemates, and with the rain as bad as it is there’s no good way to refuse.
It's best to remain in similar company after all, and until there’s time to sort out who fits where, it’s all these newcomers have.
While it's not unusual to receive rain at this time of the year, the amount of rain is unnatural according to the Guild Leaders. To ensure no one suffers any more than they already have, all three are quick to open their doors to these new Pokemon in their midst. Or at least, they're quick to offer other foreigner's doors. Pokemon who originated from other worlds soon find themselves with new bunkmates and housemates, and with the rain as bad as it is there’s no good way to refuse.
It's best to remain in similar company after all, and until there’s time to sort out who fits where, it’s all these newcomers have.
THE WATER CYCLE
While Pokemon begin to settle into their new lives at Bottlecap Bay, the rain continues to fall. On some days it’s harder — hard enough to bring sheets thick enough to blot vision, sharp enough to leave unprotected pelts stinging for minutes after retreating inside. Thunder booms, and lightning flashes, a clear message to all within the city when they see it. These storms are bad. Dangerous. And the danger is in more than just the weather itself.
At first the signs are subtle. Those same symptoms from the forest can be felt, lasting only as long as a Pokemon is damp from the downpour outside. Even the gentle drizzle causes absent thoughts, an empty mind staring into the distant grey skies as you forget.
Staring longer still, as you remember. But is what you're remembering actually yours? Something about the concentration of forest mist in the form of raindrops changes the effects as the days go by. The body and mind rebel against what it knows doesn't belong, and it finally comes bursting out with a shout! Those memories you've seen, they aren't yours! They're someone else's!
And the world needs to hear it!
At first the signs are subtle. Those same symptoms from the forest can be felt, lasting only as long as a Pokemon is damp from the downpour outside. Even the gentle drizzle causes absent thoughts, an empty mind staring into the distant grey skies as you forget.
Staring longer still, as you remember. But is what you're remembering actually yours? Something about the concentration of forest mist in the form of raindrops changes the effects as the days go by. The body and mind rebel against what it knows doesn't belong, and it finally comes bursting out with a shout! Those memories you've seen, they aren't yours! They're someone else's!
And the world needs to hear it!
iii. the archives
RECORDS KEEPING
The longer the rainfall persists, the more clear it is that staying outside is unwise. Not only is it dangerous to non-water type Pokemon's health for the most part, but the full scope of side effects only increase the risks. After one too many shouting matches caused by vitriolic memories, Polteageist offers a simple but beneficial solution. The doors of the archives are opened up, as senior members in the Lum Guild offer up their time as temporary librarians.
Polteageist's solution is as follows; instead of training their bodies out in the rain, everyone will be training their brains. There have been many questions raised over the last number of weeks, and now is the time for everyone to investigate the mysteries. Entering the Archives means entering a building of clear splendor, filled with couches and beanbags for sitting and beautiful flowers and plants to accentuate the green hues within the halls. The shelves are well stocked with records kept on stone tablets, and the additional guides within the guild are eager to help everyone find what they're looking for.
The illustrious leader of the Lum Berries is well aware however, that not everyone is willing to spend all their time reading. As it would be counterproductive to expect anyone to sit twiddling their thumbs (or tails, or ears) he has thus arranged for a few of the archive meeting rooms to host additional activities. They are simple things; there's classes on recording writings properly in clay before firing, minor history lessons where newly arrived Pokemon can share in what many others already know, and even community building exercises. They're nothing like the escape rooms organized during the last two months, but they're good for passing the time.
And eventually, the rain will hopefully calm down. A few skilled Psychic Pokemon are offering their services to keep others dry until then however, at least so that everyone can get home safely.
Polteageist's solution is as follows; instead of training their bodies out in the rain, everyone will be training their brains. There have been many questions raised over the last number of weeks, and now is the time for everyone to investigate the mysteries. Entering the Archives means entering a building of clear splendor, filled with couches and beanbags for sitting and beautiful flowers and plants to accentuate the green hues within the halls. The shelves are well stocked with records kept on stone tablets, and the additional guides within the guild are eager to help everyone find what they're looking for.
The illustrious leader of the Lum Berries is well aware however, that not everyone is willing to spend all their time reading. As it would be counterproductive to expect anyone to sit twiddling their thumbs (or tails, or ears) he has thus arranged for a few of the archive meeting rooms to host additional activities. They are simple things; there's classes on recording writings properly in clay before firing, minor history lessons where newly arrived Pokemon can share in what many others already know, and even community building exercises. They're nothing like the escape rooms organized during the last two months, but they're good for passing the time.
And eventually, the rain will hopefully calm down. A few skilled Psychic Pokemon are offering their services to keep others dry until then however, at least so that everyone can get home safely.
✩ OOC NOTES.
⟡ TDM CWS: body horror, disorientation, hallucinations, dysphoria
⟡ TDMs are game canon and act as events for the month they are posted.
⟡ New characters can link to their top level beneath the NEWBIE DIRECTORY
⟡ All new arrivals are not assigned to any one guild. However, if they participate in the Archive's bonding activities, they may receive a unique reward.
⟡ Remember that at least one thread for your application must come from the TDM! There is no comment minimum, but we will be looking for engagement, as well as for players and characters who take the time to delve into things like character thoughts, emotions, morality, and other deep themes. Take this time to engage with the setting as you would in game!
⟡ As a reminder, reserves and applications are permanently opened. Please see their respective pages for details on processing time.
⟡ Have any questions related to the TDM? Ask here! If your question is more general for the game, please make sure to direct it to the FAQ page instead. Thank you, and happy threading!
⟡ TDMs are game canon and act as events for the month they are posted.
⟡ New characters can link to their top level beneath the NEWBIE DIRECTORY
⟡ All new arrivals are not assigned to any one guild. However, if they participate in the Archive's bonding activities, they may receive a unique reward.
⟡ Remember that at least one thread for your application must come from the TDM! There is no comment minimum, but we will be looking for engagement, as well as for players and characters who take the time to delve into things like character thoughts, emotions, morality, and other deep themes. Take this time to engage with the setting as you would in game!
⟡ As a reminder, reserves and applications are permanently opened. Please see their respective pages for details on processing time.
⟡ Have any questions related to the TDM? Ask here! If your question is more general for the game, please make sure to direct it to the FAQ page instead. Thank you, and happy threading!
🔸Flamebringer |\| Arknights |/| New Player🔸
🔸| Flamebringer is an Absol with Orange, fire like eyes, and slightly singed tips to his fur. |🔸
I - Arrival
Such severe pain doesn't immediately ring as alarming to him. Outside of the normal anyways. Oripathy was not a kind friend, experiencing a flare up at the worst of times is not new. But the pain- it builds, it grows it shifts- The pain he'd come to expect from his infection was not like this, it was different, this was something else.
That, made him very afraid.
As such when he awakes its with heaving gasps. He frantically tries to move- Finding he can is a small relief, but he- where- what happened?! He can't make sense of anything-
Instead of moving with the sharp efficiency he's used to however, he falls- flat on his face.
All the wind leaves his body in a strangled yelp- Head ringing with the impact. He lies there, stunned for a second before slowly, moving again. Blinking and actually looking at himself and where he is-
What. What?!
His hands are replaced by. By paws? He was some kind of beast?! He frantically looks over his shoulder- catching sight even of something obscuring his vision slightly- and he's greeted with white fur, and a tail that's not his own. Two more sets of paws taunt him.
He stares in utter horror for a few seconds longer.
What on TERRA happened to him?!
II - From Tunnels Deep
He limped out of the caves. He was fortunate that was his only injury. His back right leg thrummed in pain, but he could take it. He'd had worse. It was embarrassing to have to avoid a fight with something that vaguely resembled a sentient rock with a giant nose. But they largely outnumbered him- and even though he was apparently equipped with a greater low-light vision than he was normally, it still wasn't enough of an advantage when handling his uncoordinated, untrained limbs.
But even having escaped the masses of angry things occupying the cave- he didn't seem to be safe yet.
The fog was covering his vision. Even with his apparently keener eyes, he couldn't see through it. And his head. He hadn't hit it as far as he could tell. He'd been lucky that despite the pain that heralded him arriving here like- like this, no injury had accompanied it. And he'd gotten lucky twice that he only suffered what at most was a fracture in his leg.
But still, his mind was slipping from him. His luck was running out.
He limps a bit further, until he comes to rest at a tree. Its not as well guarded as he'd like. There's not very much to hide his stark white fur even- but he's struggling to remember why that matters. He's tired. He's hurt. He must rest... yes. He must rest.
Others nearby will see memories. Hiding in desolate places, making oneself small to fit into tiny spaces to avoid the larger, crueler mercenaries. Tiny frame no match for their brutal clubs and sharp crossbows. A much larger version of you climbing into abandoned vehicles. Metaphorically licking your wounds as you debate whether or not you need to cauterize a bullet wound. Lucky sankta. Got a shot off before you snuffed their halo out for good.
A slightly gentler memory, an exasperated sigh tinted with something else you didn't bother to identify. "Really? Were you just aching to pick a fight so you could see me again or something? You know what a pain it is to save your skin sometimes?" the snarky female voice sounds irritated, but she pulls you out of the debris all the same, calling for her companions help to carry you're sorry butt, as she called it, back to camp.
He loses all these memories to the fog, settling down further into the grass and dirt. Why was he so scared before? Things didn't hurt so bad when he didn't move... So why move...?
[OOC: Feel free to yeet memories at him here, and also ask for different memories from me!]
III - It is your fate to be an outcast [Racism??? Speciesism??? TW]
Civilization around here... well. To say it reminded him of "home" wouldn't be an understatement. Things didn't seem to be as dire as they were back in Kazdel. At least last he'd seen- but there certainly was an air of disquiet about.
As he's being guided around by the rescue teams, he overhears whispers. He listens, picking up very little that makes sense to him. Wherever he is. Whatever he is, he's missing the understanding he needs in order for what he hears to be valuable.
Then he hears other things.
"You see him? The absol? I told you- a harbinger of disaster-"
His head whips around, trying to spot whoever said that- but its a futile effort.
'Absol'. One of the rescue team members had called him that.
A harbinger of disaster?
The more he listens, the more he pinpoints similar talk. Some defend this 'absol'. Others lament its arrival, saying it will only bring more ill upon them. Some even mention kicking it out. Saying doing so might end the problems they've been dealing with.
He manages to shoot one of these individuals a glare, they squeak in surprise and run off along with their friends.
Its not satisfying to watch them go.
Ha. Somehow, even completely changed- He is treated all the same.
IV - Rain Check UP
He doesn't like this. In the whirlwind of trying to grasp onto understanding anything at all he ended up being put in line at the clinic to get checked over.
Something which he has no intention of allowing to happen.
Thankfully there are bigger... Pokemon. That's the word others keep using to refer to them all. There are bigger Pokemon ahead of him, if he plays his cards right...
It takes patience, and some good luck and timing, but he finds a moment when nobody who should be paying attention is, muttering some neutral excuse to those within earshot, and makes his way in a different direction, strategically avoiding the people who seem to be aids at the clinic, and hiding behind the larger patients.
He's close to getting away- He only needs a bit more time and a bit more luck. His own lack of dexterity in this form better not betray him now-
V - Rain Check IN
He doesn't want to share lodgings. He doesn't trust any of these... people. And after the dubious whispers he heard outside, he can't be completely certain that no-one would take this as a welcome opportunity to dispose of a 'problem'.
But he doesn't have much of a choice.
The weather had taken a turn for the worse, rain was coming down in buckets. He was deprived of any of his normal survival tools outside of his teeth- There was no sign of either of his swords. And even if he had them, he couldn't wield them like this.
And he couldn't rely on his body as he normally would either.
He was by all accounts. Defenseless.
He follows a crowd. Keeping an eye out. Listening. Observing. When he's finally given a lodging, he takes the most secluded spot. He settles in, staring outward. Night vision keeping an eye on every corner.
He plans on having a very long, and very sleepless night.
His roommates will see two glowing, orange pinpricks from the shadows. A warning. He's not as defenseless as he might seem.
VI - WILDCARD
[Don't be shy to just throw stuff at me! I'm super down to do whatever :)c I'm here to party. Also feel free to hit me up for more memory shenanigans! Lighthearted or Heavy, just let me know!]
rain check in
You seem like you could use some food - you look like you eat meat, but I can get you something else if you don't.
If i had a nickel for everytime he was approached by a small, helpful cat, i'd have 2 nickels
[That is until he's approached by a very small beast. They're covered in fur... and quite a bit smaller than even his downsized form in this place. But they show no sign of hesitation or fear. Even as he continues to mercilessly glare at their approach.]
[Their voice is young as well. But in these strange forms its impossible for him to gauge age.]
[He does break eye contact to look at the offered meal... At least it looks cooked. They weren't feeding him like a beast even if he looked like one.]
Not interested. [He growls lowly. He was hungry. But he could live without for much longer. He trusted the food no more than he trusted the people around here.]
[He returns his piercing gaze to staring directly at Firepaw.]
too bad firepaw's from a canon point before meeting his grumpy old cat friend lol
Look, if you don't want it, I can give it to someone else. [He's very much trying not to sound annoyed, and he's failing.] But I can smell that you're hungry.
Pre-grouch handling skill acquired 😔 Its okay, he can get fast tracked to it now.
I don't. [He states again, tersely. He's glad this kid knows better than to push his luck-
He stiffens. Other beasts can smell his hunger? Or was it just this kind? How exposed was he without knowing? His gaze becomes even more wary somehow.] ... Can you now. [He does his best to sound and act disinterested.]
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iii
"So you're an Absol? I've never met one before. Is any of what they said true? Can you tell what kinds of disasters?"
There's a clear difference in his tone, void of any accusation. But excitement might not be all that much better. As long as he's interested, he couldn't care less if the group has somewhere to be. They can wait, or he'll simply follow until he has answers.
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Except he frequently got annoyed with her as well.
His first thought is 'How in the furnace pits would I know?!', unfortunately for himself, and he supposes the both of them, he's as in the dark about this as anyone.
"Yes." He answers bluntly. He could be wrong for all he knows, but he think its safe to assume at this point. "No, and no." Both up for further scrutiny. Wherever he was, it wasn't anywhere on Terra he knew. But as far as he could tell for now, he was experiencing no greater sense for danger than he did normally.
And he could only hope the former wasn't true. He didn't need any more problems.
He turns his face away and keeps walking, his terseness a sure sign that he doesn't wish to speak further on this.
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For better or worse, his musing indicates he's still going to follow, the cold shoulder having become a rather inviting greeting to him over the years. It's possible it's just one legend, of course. He's more than familiar with that kind of lore and the inaccuracies it can bring with it. But given his inexperience with his own supposed water based magic...
"Or it might be an ability you'll grow into once you're more familiar with your form. If I could, I'd like to study how it develops. Can you try to use it? What if you wish disaster on me?"
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Just a made up excuse to get rid of something they found 'unsightly.'
He shoots this tag-along a glare, gaze and demeanor anything but friendly. Get the clue you idiot. He's not here to chat and play games.
Although... the idea it might be some kind of Arts he could master was an interesting thought, he had to admit. He could use that to his advantage... but he doubted so. Something so easily abused and powerful was likely to be snuffed out by those who feared it.
And while these other creatures were displaying fear of him, it wasn't a raw unbridled horror that indicated he held such power.
"No." He said again. He was no one's lab musbeast. The request made him shoot this stranger a still hostile, but also equally bewildered look, "No. Do you have a death wish?" Was this person actually rather certain he had no power? Or was he just stupid?
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We can end the thread here (or we can do a little more wrap up) if you feel this is good!
II Tunnels: Jaws music (Mistaken identity again, but sadder???)
Is that mud or blood? Doesn’t matter, he needs to keep moving or he’ll join them on the wasted battleground-
Confusion flickers over his thoughts. Battleground? Debris? There’s…no…they were just in Sabaody. There wasn’t a war, but he did need to run. There was a body on the ground, one he needed to get to before- before people bigger than him with clubs and spears and weapons- guns- who had a gun!?? Furnace-damned Sankta got lucky-
All of that flies right out of his head when his eyes fall on a body, tucked under some gnarled tree roots. This one’s breathing. It’s…
The bastard knocked him out. Damn him. Just had to go playing the hero, huh?! They can find another cook, dammit, but you can’t just replace such a skilled fighter as-
“ZORO!!” Sanji cries, scrambling forward to paw at the figure, mud slick paws leaving dark trails
of bloodon white…fur? A shirt? A barely conscious figure standing in a ruined clearing, arms crossed, trembling-Damn this useless body of his. He’d grab the mosshead himself, drag him if he has to-
“Come on idiot, get up. Get up, we need to get out of here-“
’Nothing happened.’
“Can it would ya? They’re- they’re gonna make you disappear again, we need to go!!” Who is they exactly? Why is Zoro here of all places? Why is he?? Where is here? Doesn’t matter. He found a member of his crew, he’s sure of it, and they need to get back to Rhodes island- the Sunny where it’s safe, home!!
Adds some devestation to the sorrow soup. Sanji is the sanest amoung the two of them rn somehow
Flamebringer is lying rather still. The fog has sunk its teeth deep into his mind and he's struggling more and more to remember why it was urgent for him to move.
Which makes it even more disorienting when he's suddenly hit by a tsunami of urgency.
What- who? He was- Someone was looming over him. That stupid Warlord in the stupid looking bucket hat. A burning rage sits in his chest- but more there's guilt, so much guilt. He couldn't protect them, CRAP he failed to protect them- Zoro twice now and the others-
He wouldn't stand for this, he wouldn't just let this freak Warlord tear apart his friends like this- he wouldn't he-
But all his friends were already dead... weren't they?
One memory flows into another- Sanji's desperation too keep the hearts of his friends still beating... versus a man stumbling away from smog and fire. He's barely breathing. The fire in his veins which is normally a second home to him (or his only home...) feels for once like its burning him alive.
Gone.
Gone.
His mind echoes.
He was never one to hold onto illusions of hope. But he'd made the mistake while under the thumb of the King that maybe there was merit in it. He'd give it a try.
After all. What could he lose?
Everything.
Everything.
Everything.
And who was to blame? The Doctor? Cold calculation and scheme that brought about victory for a price? A devil you bargained with, but the bargain would be fair (was this fair? was it fair? It didn't feel fair.) The figure that had stood before them. Slaughtered them all with their own hand? Who left injuries on his skin he knew would scar should he live past this day? Or maybe himself. For agreeing to this. For standing buy. For surviving. He didn't fail as a rear guard after all-
There had been no one running to protect.
For once Flamebringer is distressed- but he doesn't know what to do with it- Who is- Zoro? Usopp? Robin? Who are these people? He was supposed to be protecting someone wasn't he?
Then there are paws on him- He jolts in surprise, backing closer to the tree so that his fur catchs on the bark, blinking hard and shaking his head. There's a sense of urgency- Who was touching him? Kuma? Was Kuma after them- him? Again? But he'd seen no person like that here-
He blinks hard and sees- someone is in front of him, another beast. Smaller. Its not as large as him. And its talking to him. He can understand.
"...Go?" He asks slowly, almost like he's remembering how to talk, "Go where? To..." He searches for a possible answer in his bewildered mind, "To... Luffy?" His mind provides an image. A young boy. A bright smile. A sense that he would follow him to the ends of the world if so asked.
He barely notices the way the mud soaks into his fur and makes him shiver.
Sanji does like to cook- *not like dis* (mmm stream of consciousness is so ADHD friendly)
Doctor…? No. No, Chopper is in full monster mode, in no state to give any such orders. Why did he think that?
In no state to give orders…because they’re all dead.
Sanji freezes for a moment, stunned. There’s no way they could survive. Oak and ash and thorns and soot- that’s all he can see, for miles. That’s all that’s left, leaving him as the smoldering embers. Useless. Broken.
His home, broken. The Merry had carried them so far, and now. Gone. All of them, everything-
No. No they still had-
“Stop. That’s not right. Get it together!” He snaps, wanting to pull at his hair and get the jumbled thoughts out, but instead shoving his face into the nearest thing, to try and block it out, somehow- He gets a facefull of white…fur. Which is weird, but oddly grounding all the same.
Thoughts of Kings and Doctors and Devils swirl through his mind in a calamitous storm. Calamity? He thinks of firey rocks falling from the sky as the ground shakes uncontrollably, which is- also wrong. It's...it was just Kuma. And the other Admiral guy and...and...the robot version. Still, it's not fair, he was doing what he could, he needs to protect them. He's the rear guard, he is the final line of defense- so why are arms wrapping around him, pulling him forward, their sniper's wobbling voice in his ears, refusing to let go-
"SHUT UP!! Shut up, we- we don't have time for this!" Sanji snarls, pawing more at this- at Zoro's-it's Zoro, it has to be- side. He clears up some mud in the process- the body against his snout is shaking.
Usopp just disappeared, Sanji wasn't strong enough to block the advance of their enemies, the world blurring by as he was thrown into the trees-
Didn't Zoro disappear too? No. No no no he's right here.
The vulpix straightens up, shaking his head, trying to get the stupid (injured in pain he's never seen Zoro in this bad shape, except for-
Nothing happened.)- the Swordsman to look at him. And...he does. Were Zoro's eyes always the color of flickering embers? Doesn't matter. He's responding, sounding dazed and lost, but he's replying. He's still here. Sanji smiles, pained and awkward with this strange face.
"Yeah. Luffy. He told us to run, right?"
'EVERYONE RUN! WE CAN'T WIN THIS! WE'RE TOO WEAK!!'
Not like he was doing that when Usopp got involved but it's fine- "We'll regroup back at the Sunny. But we gotta move; c'mon. Get up, moron." He nudges the oddly fluffy shoulder with his nose. He curses softly. "I'd help with the walkin but that's kinda tough right now. But I will pull on your stupid new horn, don't test me-" They just- they need to go. Get out. Get back to Luffy, where he can smile again and they'll all be warm and happy and-
Safe.
Adding some bitter BITTER herbs into the soup against advise of the chef-
I'm sorry.
He thought back then, the he would quite easily take her head in exchange for the traitor's.
But that- this- he would never hurt Chopper. In fact, Chopper was in danger-
But they were all dead-
Sanji's choice to shove his face into Flamebringer's fur turns out to be a rather fortuitous decision- Because the action startles Flamebringer out of the sea of thoughts to stare at the fuzzbeast in front of him- or, actively touching him. Aggressively. But not in a violent way. He blinks at it owlishly without really comprehending, the small shred of self still more or less in tact wondering what in the furnace pits this beast was doing.
The other part grasped onto Sanji's own desperation to protect- the realization that Usopp- Someone- Someone was still there-
Sanji's voice shouting over the memories- insisting, demanding- that they were all alive- His own determination, desperation- it bleeds and blends with Flamebringer's mind in a strangely harmonious but unstable mixture, and within seconds he's surging to his feet again- although wobbly, between his own new, unsteady and strange appendages, and the muddling of his mind, it might be a wonder that he's standing at all.
But Sanji's own memories serve as a strange light through the fog- a false lighthouse- but a light is provided all the same.
If someone, anyone, was still alive-
He would die first before he let anything happen to them.
There's a stray memory- Overlaying over Usopp is someone else- she doesn't even look remotely similar to the sniper, but she's small, vulnerable, young. And Flamebringer was going to keep her safe. He'd been lucky that time- Perfumer had been close by, but he doesn't remember much of what actually happened, only that he had a feeling of immense satisfaction, one strong enough to drown out even the intense pain burning at the nerves of his skin.
Lena was right to chew him out for practically taking a face full of acid- but Podenco was relatively unharmed in relation, so he had a hard time regretting his actions.
"Run." He repeats back at the- swordsman? He- no- weren't they a sniper? No no, he was supposed to protect Zoro- he was hurt and badly- "Right. We're supposed to run."
And he was supposed to guard a retreat. But looking around, it was just the two of them- so, "You lead the way," He answers easily, he would make sure nobody had to take the brunt of anything this time. He would stand firmly in the way. He was
the rear guardreplaceable. And maybe such an end would finally bring him the answers he sought.Sanji vc this is somehow worse than the oregano!!!! -smacks with a wooden spoon-
III
She is about to step in and speak up in the Absol's defense when he throws his glare, scaring the offending Pokémon off in an instant. She approaches then herself, entirely without fear.
"Are you all right, dear?"
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He scoffed. "They would have to put in far more effort to hurt me." Words meant little. Actions was where blood was spilled and hatred festered. He thinks idly on a gunshot wound scar the exists- well, existed, he does not know if this new body carries his old scars (a more disturbing thought then he'd admit), on his left arm.
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She looks him over, smiling without her teeth.
"Perhaps you don't need to be told this, then..." But perhaps he is the sort who simply acts tough and unaffected while inwardly taking those words to heart, so she continues all the same, "But you mustn't listen to those ugly things they say about your kind. Not a word of it is true. Absol are beautiful, truly noble creatures."
Turning her gaze back toward the direction in which the other Pokémon fled, she huffs indignantly.
"To think that the Pokémon of this world would be just as judgmental and superstitious as humans... It really is unconscionable."
And strange—entirely unthinkable to her, really. Judgmental was the last word she would have used to describe Pokémon herself mere weeks ago.
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'I have no concept of what it's like to be Infected'. Of their plight, of their persecutions. That was what he told the Doctor back then. And this was still true. After all-
When one is born sarkaz, being or not being Infected made little difference.
Her words do little to sooth decades of wounds. But he glances at her, it lingers for a second in a peaceful silence before he looks away again. Accepting her presence.
"And how would they- Would I, be considered noble?" There's no heat in his question. It seems to be genuine. This place... its so completely alien to him. But he must be cautious of allowing his own vulnerabilities to slip.
He chuckles lowly, "All sentient life seeks some form of order. And when there's trouble, a cause." He tilts his head questioningly in her direction. "But you speak as if you're not from around here."
Was she like him? Were there others like him around this place? Torn from somewhere else, dropped in a confusing state with no answers, actively looking for them?
Even if she was simply a foreign... 'Pokemon', hearing more of this place and surrounding areas was a good a place to start as any.
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I
But no matter. Time is of the essence, and he has work to do, so he hops forward.
"I need you to calm down. Yes, you have changed, and yes, this is another world. You're among the third group of outsiders to arrive in such a state. I was from the first, and I know the way out of these tunnels."
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"Who are-" It- he? Is speaking and Flamebringer pauses to listen, stance no less defensive and hostile, fur on end.
But listening brings no answers, only more questions, his mind is reeling and muddled, with a growing onset of paranoia, and the distinct sense of being exposed. "World? Outsiders? My state?" His voice gains even more of a hostile growl, "None of what you say makes any sense." while his demeanor is extremely on edge and hostile- he doesn't make any move to attack. He's not sure how well he can hold up in a fight right now- He would die fighting all the same rather than roll over, but right now his aggression is more of a desperate attempt to gain control over the situation.
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It's been months, but he'll leave that out for now. It's best not to overwhelm with too much bad news, when the person he's speaking to is already on edge.
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Still- It was convenient, too convenient for someone to be waiting for him here like this- He has no way of knowing that Akechi just so happened to around. That there was no set up, just a coincidence. But the paranoia that kept him alive was rearing its less favorable attributes.
"An easy excuse for you I'm sure." He hisses, putting one foot forward and trying to gain a more sure stance- this individual, they were far smaller than him. If he played his hand right he could maybe avoid a fight by scaring him off. "But you certainly took no time arriving with all the answers."
After all- something like this couldn't simply be a coincidence could it? He knew there were plenty of strange phenomenons out in the world. But one didn't simply get changed so drastically- and then have someone show up practically begging you to listen to their version of the story, without it being some kind of scheme.
Not that he held any illusions about being an important part of anyone's plan. They most likely assumed he was easy fodder. He would give every fiber of his being to prove them wrong.
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IV Holds up a tiny clinic aide like- (Also, lmk if you're ok w JJBA spoilers, yeah?)
Being as small as he is, though, means an advantage that Flamebringer has understandably missed. Most people are looking up for an absol hiding behind larger patients and furnishings on his way to the door.
Emporio, very much skilled in the art of noticing and avoiding notice for his own sake, catches silver fur with a bit more ease than 'most'.
Which of course means he's going to ruin this in the worse way possible.
"Um...should you be going outside like that?"
It's pouring out there, you don't want that, trust him.
A CHILD [I'm completely down for JJBA spoilers heck yeah! Thank you for asking!]
"Like what?" he says, trying to come off disinterested. He's not sure this... kid, had anything to do with the medical staff here, it could be a coincidence. Or boredom. "I can take care of myself."
thumbs up!!
He doubts a little, on account of him currently trying to escape a clinic. Speaks fathoms for self-preservation, not so much for self-awareness of one's medical status.
He's not really one to talk though, and the rain's still an issue either way. "People have started losing memories in it. It's not really safe to go out there until it stops."
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And Emporio would be correct on his assumption- Flamebringer consistently refused much more necessary medical treatments back on Rhodes Island, a decision that frequently concerned, frustrated, and baffled the competent medical team.
Well pot to kettle-
just proved that both of them should be sat on for their own healthHe hesitated at that information. Glancing back at the small figure... it could be nothing but a tale. Some kind of horror story told to young ones to keep them from getting into trouble... but there had been that fog. The memories he'd seen that weren't his own...This place wasn't playing fair, and he already hated it. He growled to himself, but not at the kid, although he didn't hid his irritated demeanor and voice, "Everyone, is affected by this?" He suspected the answer was yes.
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