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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
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
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
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.
⟡ TDMs are game canon and act as events for the month they are posted.
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⟡ As a reminder, reserves and applications are permanently opened. Please see their respective pages for details on processing time.
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no subject
Emporio nods. Polteageist assured him as much, at least. 'If anyone tries to send you back, I will correct them.' It's what made him sure that Polteageist was someone he could trust. There was no logical reason for Polteageist to go that far for someone he'd only taken in for a month at that point.
But he did.]
...I just wish it hurt less, too, [he admits after that.] ...they told me to be happy. ...they said I was their hope.
no subject
And it does not— hmm. [ Emmet pauses, clicks his tongue. ] I will not say it gets better. But it does get ... easier, even if you do what I did.
[ He lives with it, after all, to the point that he was surprised it affected Emporio so strongly. For better or for worse. ]
no subject
Emporio nods- he thinks he understands, at least. That definitely reflects how the memory felt, after all.] ...Right.
...Okay. ...I... ...I guess, knowing that much helps.
And, uh...hopefully whatever you saw from me wasn't too...
[Bad? Weird? Probably weird. If it was bad, he feels like Emmet would probably be a little more upset, if at least on behalf of the one whose memories they were.]
no subject
[ Probably the saddest part isn't the memory itself, but the context provided afterward on account of Emmet's own memory. That all of the people in that memory, fondness, strangeness, concerning decision making regarding safety checks and all, are gone now.
... ]
I have grown tired of focusing on loss. If you miss them. If you want to talk about them. Now, or at some other time. You can. I will listen.
no subject
[Emporio, needless to say, goes about as red as a cubone can.] R-right! Sorry, that was...a lot to just put out there, on you.
I definitely have good stories, but...another time, for sure. That's probably best.
And...well, Anasui's here, so I guess I could introduce you sometime too? [Really at this point they ought head inside before the rain gets more severe though.]
....
....Thank you, though.
no subject
Anyway. Do not worry. Maybe all this is a bit more than usual. But that is just how it is with this rain. And it is nothing I am not used to. [ Not with the way he didn't let that particular wound scar over, but that was willful and deliberate. ] There is also no need to thank me. Whether we meant to board or not, we are all riding the same train, towards a shared destination. I am not a Subway Master here, but all the same.
We have a responsibility to our passengers.
[ Speaking of, does Emporio want to get on so they can get out of the rain quicker. ]
no subject
[The boy shakes his head- and, recognizing Emmet's offer, does in fact clamber on like the Subway Boss is the subway itself.]
No- that's okay. ...I'm glad actually. He's not exactly the social type.
...It might not mean much, but, you're the closest to a real subway I've ever been able to get a ride from. So you're still a Subway Master to me.
no subject
[ But, well, there aren't trains here, and given the current level of technology and infrastructure- that realistically isn't going to change any time soon. He'd be lying if he said he didn't miss them a little, same as everything else he's familiar with but might or might not be present here, but... ]
But a lot of things aren't. Doesn't mean they are necessarily bad. [ ... ] Back to the Archives, or somewhere else?
no subject
[It's as Emmet said after all. It can still be good, even if it's different.]
...The archives, please. ...Thanks, Emmet.
no subject
[ He's just doing what anyone should, in this position? Anyway, since Emporio's said he's the closest thing to an actual subway he's been able to get a ride from... Sure. He can play it up some.
(Emporio acts so responsible all the time, but he really is just a kid, isn't he?) ]
But. Okay. Destination set. White line special service to the archives, now departing. Please stand clear of the closing doors.
[ Off they go. ]
ties this with a ribbon while weeping tbqh
...Just doesn't really know how to be one, it seems. But in the same way, he doesn't know how to not be one- a comfort Emmet can partake in, as the boy muffles a laugh behind his hand.
Super Subway Emmet, now departing. Off they go, indeed.]