(ACE) The HEARTHOME Team

Polnareff stands and turns, the others seeming to accept, or at least acknowledge the decision. Apparently the talking broccoli has a piece to put in as well... "L--listen, I may be a goof. Honestly. But I wanna tag along. Like, bad." ...This was a surprise. Good to know he can be serious when need be... He turns to face the grass-type, stern-looking as ever. "I uh, I'm missing somebody. B--but aren't we all, right? I just...I..., I can't find my trainer. I've searched everywhere. But I'm not giving up hope. And I'm sure all of you have people too, that you miss! So I want to help, in any way I can. Until we all can have our happy endings. We can do it."

Pol's stern expression sagged. He keeps a low sigh to himself, looking down at the ground for a moment. "Aren't we all, indeed." His eyes rise once more, the crimson and azure orbs locking to Leto's.

"My name is Auriel. My trainer was killed by the zombies and I have no allies to name. My name is rather ironic, as it means hope. All my friends are dead, because of my mistakes. I have some combat experience, by the way."

...Well that was a thing. At least Leto was just admitting he wanted to tag along, in his own odd way. But Auriel seemed to give the briefest synopsis of her life since the epidemic started... "Regardless of the ultimate reasons for coming this far... we all have. Made it this far, that is. Prove yourselves loyal and act like brethren, and you can both name me as your ally. Those that know my name will likely accept you immediately."

"Rocket—!" The Lucario whips around upon hearing the name. He spied the Garchomp squirming and  wiggling about on the dirt... awake. And probably still in a good deal of pain. He nods towards the new members of the group, and walks over to help. His voice, unlike Fran's, was more... brash. There was a viable concern within his tone, but even as he knelt beside Rocket, he kept remembering the young Sandshrew... "C'mon, big guy. Don't go back to sleep on us. I don't think either of us wants me to try and carry you far." A touch of (attempted) comedy likely missed its mark, but hey. The kid missed his whole life now.

Leto, (although his head, as usual, drifting in the clouds that sailed above them), caught a glimpse of the Growlithes' empty stare, as if he were sinking into himself. And then the grimace of Fran followed, and then the Absol said something about her past, (crap, she probably said her name, and he wasn't listening. Did she say "Toriel?"),and then...

It was difficult for him to focus, as his eyes were set on the behemoth stirring beneath him. He mouthed a few words, gesturing frantically towards the Garchomp, as to not interrupt the conversations floating around him. He flailed his arms in an attempt to mime, he's getting up!

Rocket let out a wheezing groan. Upon the noise, the Krookidile whipped her head around, drawing herself to his side immediately. Leto couldn't help but give a crooked grin as he pictured the scene to be one of that from his future--a closeness between him and a special someone.  If he had someone to love, certainly he would help them up. Without a doubt.

"C'mon, big guy. Don't go back to sleep on us. I don't think either of us wants me to try and carry you far." The crack, (as it was, quite literally, breaking Letos' tension) caused Leto to snicker. The thought of the Lucario lugging around that beast, well, that was positively hysterical.

"Good morning, sunshine!" chirped Leto, in his own attempt to diffuse the pressure that blanketed them. He wrung his leaf hands, trying to remain attentive, though his eyes darted from side to side, scanning the area.

Oh God, it was getting dark. And he didn't wanna be around when...whatever put the gigantic fighting machine that is Rocket lying flat on the ground like a deflated balloon...came lurking around again.

[[sorry this post isn't that great. looooong week.]]

Auriel stood back, watching grimly as the sun set on the waking Rocket. She reflected to herself, "I wish Rita were here..." She didn't realise what she had said until it was too late and promptly smacked a front paw across her face, tracing her scar. She cleared her throat, and started, calmly assessing the Garchomp. "Hello, Rocket. I suspect you are the leader of the group?"
The Absol then started to tremble as though she had seen something... Something terrible. She must have been trembling nearly as bad as the Eevee was because of her, she thought absent-mindedly. This would be a long night, she was sure.

(OOC: Sorry for the late as **** post. My dad is in the hospital amongst other things.)

"Rocket—!" Ahhh ... now that was more like it. Francesca's voice coaxed Rocket's eyes back open, and he saw her immediately scramble to his side. He managed to smile at her, despite the agony pulsing through his jaw. "Shit—do you need more berries—or water—" She held out both of her hands, and Rocket looked over at the one that was holding the berries. His nostrils twitched as he inhaled their sweet scent, and his stomach growled in response.

"Rocket—are you alright?"

He smiled again, and managed to raise his head, slowly and carefully; he felt like he'd been run over by a Tauros herd. "I am now I've seen you," he said in a low voice, not quite wanting the others to hear how sappy he was whenever Francesca was around. It was bound to deduct some badass points from his overall score.

Speaking of the others ... Rocket winced as he turned his head to look around, immediately spotting the two newcomers - an Absol, and this weird snake-leaf-thing he hadn't seen before. "Good morning, sunshine!" he trilled, waving its hands. What the fuck?

"Hello, Rocket," the Absol said calmly. Rocket blinked, bemused, as his eyes darted between them. Where the hell did they come from? "I suspect you are the leader of the group?"

"Where did--" He propped himself up on his elbows, holding one claw up to his cheek. Speaking had never been so painful; it felt as though his jaw was going to drop off. "Where did you guys come from?"

"Rocket—!" Fran's cry must have caught everyone's attention, because the entire group-including Michael himself-gathered themselves around him. Michael kept a little more distance than Francesca and Polnareff did; he really didn't know what to do in this situation, being both smaller and lacking the strength or properly-shaped limbs to help lift the dragon back to his feet. Besides, he didn't want to disturb Connor from the spot on his back. Not to mention, the sweetness between Francesca and Rocket might just make him cry...or maybe not. Maybe it will only make him unfairly bitter. "C'mon, big guy. Don't go back to sleep on us. I don't think either of us wants me to try and carry you far." Michael gave a tiny chuckle at the thought of Polnareff trying to haul Rocket from place to place-that would be quite a sight. They'd get about ten feet in one direction, max. At least Rocket doesn't look on the verge of death, though he's certainly got a look of...disorientation. Confusion? Well, Michael would certainly be a little puzzled if he woke up and saw two complete strangers standing in front of him. He'd ask things such as "Who the hell are you" or "Why haven't we chased them off already?"

"Good morning, sunshine!" Michael winces at both the tones and words used; yes, he understands what Leto is trying to do, but "sunshine"? Really? Why not something like, "My name's Leto, I met your friends before you were awake, please don't beat me up"? It's common courtesy to introduce yourself first, especially when the Pokemon in question happens to be a huge, and likely severely wounded, Garchomp. Auriel's words to Rocket are way more polite; honestly, she's been nothing but polite this entire time. Michael's not sure if that's soothing, or downright creepy. Wait-is she...trembling? Is Rocket truly that intimidating, or is it something else? "Hello, Rocket. I suspect you are the leader of the group?"

Though Michael cannot see it, Connor has looked over at Rocket, stirred by the pangs of anxiety caused by the Absol's voice. With the dragon awake, he feels a tiny part of the painful humming that is his fear ebb away. Rocket is strong; Rocket fought off the Pokemon that had been intent on hurting them. He and Fran and Polna and Michael, they...they can fight off anything together. They can stop Reaper! At least until he finds Penelope, or with a real miracle, she returns to him herself. All he has to do is not look at...at "Auriel?" Connor still doesn't know if she's lying or not. He can't trust her like he can his sister. That in itself is enough to convince the Eevee that he's not safe, and it is only through the protection formed by his current guardians that he is still breathing. But Connor can't think that. No, he can't, or else he might start panicking again, something Penelope had always tried to teach him to stop doing. It never worked...which has to be his fault. It's his fault he's not as strong as his sister.

"Where did--Where did you guys come from?"

Michael holds back from grimacing, but honestly, this is a pretty awkward situation. They needed to get somewhere safe, but it's understandable that Rocket would wake up and not be magically okay with seeing people he didn't know. It's not like they can just tell him to stop asking valid questions and push him forward. Michael doesn't know where the hell either of them came from, and his answer is completely ridiculous as a result. "Well, um-they kinda just, showed up?" Knowing full well how stupid that sounds, Michael's eyes dart over to Leto and then Auriel, silently nudging them to fill in the gaps.

Oh, duh. No wonder Rocket was confused. He had just woken up from...Arceus knows what kind of injury, and was surrounded by complete strangers. Leto whipped his head from Pokemon to Pokemon, focusing too hard on focusing and losing his focus altogether.

Crap. Michael was staring intently at Leto, and he hadn't heard a word he had said. He assumed, judging by the probing squint of his eyes, he was ushering him to say something to help Rocket out? Somehow? Perhaps an introduction was in order? A cold sweat broke on his brow; he pulled at a nonexistent shirt collar in anxiety.

He flounced forward, which he knew was a bad idea by the initial footfall--walking towards a dazed fighting machine. It was as if his body had a mind of its own, marching towards the Garchomp in its own haze. "N--nice to meet ya, pal. I'm Leto. Sorry about your, your, ahhh...," he trailed off, eyes rolling towards his wounds before snapping back to his face--his maw. "A--anyways. I don't mean you or your other buddies here any harm. I just decided to visit. A, hah, a fight isn't exactly the quietest commotion? So I wanted to investigate? And I found you guys here and you were hurt so I went and got berries and then Auriel showed up and she seems nice too. So don't worry."

Southern gate| Hearthome City |6
While the other Pokemon were talking, she started to sing softly. "As soft moonlight glows, the world is just too close~ it twists and spins and whirls, just as we quarrel~ As the sun is shining, worlds of thread and twinings, of steel and stone and fate written in bone... this is the song, of Sinnoh." She thinks to herself, it has been a long time since I sang like that. "Sorry about that. It's a bad habit I have on full moons. I have to be honest, I don't usually show people that side of me. Nor do I let them see this." She holds out an object for the group to look at, blushing slightly. It was a small stone, but it had a swirl in the middle. She explained that the stone was something that she loved very much. "It's my old trainer's mega stone. He bought it from a friend and gave it to me. I never saw him again until the beginning of the epidemic. He died to save me." She teared up at the thought. Her stone glinted in the moonlight. Her tears had fallen on it. "We should get moving if Rocket is able. It won't be safe here soon and it's getting dark. Also, by mansion, do you by chance mean that poffin house? My trainer and I went there. It was a bit more crowded back then, but it's still huge. Probably should have asked that earlier."

"Well, um-they kinda just, showed up?" The Growlithe wasn't helping to clear up the situation whatsoever. Rocket gave him a wry look and turned to the leaf-snake as he filled in the gaps.

"N--nice to meet ya, pal. I'm Leto. Sorry about your, your, ahhh..." Rocket scowled and held a fin up to his cheek, hiding it. He didn't want to know what it was like, especially if it looked as bad as it felt. "A--anyways. I don't mean you or your other buddies here any harm. I just decided to visit. A, hah, a fight isn't exactly the quietest commotion? So I wanted to investigate? And I found you guys here and you were hurt so I went and got berries and then Auriel showed up and she seems nice too. So don't worry."

He glanced again at the berries in Francesca's hand, sniffing at their juicy scent. Considering he still felt like he'd taken a Body Slam from a Wailord, maybe another berry or two wouldn't hurt. He speared a plump Sitrus Berry from the Krookodile's palm onto his claw, and popped it into his mouth.

"We should get moving if Rocket is able," said the Absol; Auriel, if he gathered correctly. "It won't be safe here soon and it's getting dark. Also, by mansion, do you by chance mean that poffin house? My trainer and I went there. It was a bit more crowded back then, but it's still huge. Probably should have asked that earlier."

Rocket barked out a laugh, then groaned and touched his cheek. "That's going back into the city, so no, that's not what we meant. That's where those assholes first ambushed us." He took one more berry, feeling its revitalizing juices flow their nutrients through his blood.

He was still in agony, but Auriel did have a point. Rocket glanced up at the treeline to his right, where the last traces of the sun were sinking behind the horizon. To the east, a full moon was rising, bathing them in its silver glow.

Not only would it be dark very soon, but they couldn't afford to stay this close to the city. Swampert's gang were likely stuck in frenzy and discord after the death of their leader, but he wouldn't put it past some of them to come hunting for revenge. In his current condition, Rocket wasn't sure if he could hold them off this time. He needed time to recover.

"As for this 'mansion', I must've missed that," he said with a grin. "I don't know where it is, but I reckon we ought to start looking. I may need a hand up," he added, shifting his legs underneath him. Once he was up, he'd be fine; just getting there was the hard part.

Michael returns Rocket's vexed glance; excuse him for not magically having all the answers. He could've easily just lied to the guy-it would've been found out without much effort, but still. The nerve of some people. To the Growlithe's relief, Leto quickly takes up the mantle of explaining the situation, and Michael doesn't really care whether the snake actually understood his silent signals or simply managed to figure out what he needed to do. Either way, it meant everyone else didn't have to scramble to say something.

"N--nice to meet ya, pal. I'm Leto. Sorry about your, your, ahhh..." Michael looks everywhere except at Rocket's injury, feigning disinterest. That blow must have done quite a number on the dragon for it to leave behind such an obvious mark, but he has a faint feeling that Rocket wouldn't appreciate being told such a thing. "A--anyways. I don't mean you or your other buddies here any harm. I just decided to visit. A, hah, a fight isn't exactly the quietest commotion? So I wanted to investigate? And I found you guys here and you were hurt so I went and got berries and then Auriel showed up and she seems nice too. So don't worry." Well, it's not the worst explanation in the world, Michael can admit that. Leto seems to not be as confident as his initial introduction, but then, Michael himself is quite the awkward specimen. He thinks back to when he first met up with this group...goddess, that's embarrassing. However, the next to speak is Auriel, and she's positively bursting with things to say.

"It's my old trainer's mega stone. He bought it from a friend and gave it to me. I never saw him again until the beginning of the epidemic. He died to save me." The hell is "mega stone"? Why does this matter? Why is she bringing it up now to people she doesn't even know? Michael must be lost in Crazytown, scrambling to find answers to nonsensical actions. As much as he's trying not to be a complete jerk, he can't help but stare at least a little when the Absol begins to cry. This is so sudden and out of nowhere that Michael cannot begin to think of a way to respond to Auriel, let alone comfort her. He barely knows her. Talk about over-sharing..."We should get moving if Rocket is able. It won't be safe here soon and it's getting dark. Also, by mansion, do you by chance mean that poffin house? My trainer and I went there. It was a bit more crowded back then, but it's still huge. Probably should have asked that earlier."

Oh thank the goddesses, they've come back to a subject he doesn't have to tread lightly around, though the Growlithe frowns at the mention of a poffin house. What in the world is that? His brain is starting to hurt a little bit now from the outpouring of new information, both the confusing and the relevant. Suddenly, Rocket gives a short burst of laughter, and Michael feels the Eevee on his back shift; that must have startled him. The poor guy must still be scared out of his wits, thanks to the rather unfortunate implications of Auriel's species. It isn't her fault, but still. "That's going back into the city, so no, that's not what we meant. That's where those assholes first ambushed us." Oh? Yeah, no way then. Michael would prefer to have his claws removed then go back through that shithole, especially during the nighttime and with a frightened kid to take care of.

"As for this 'mansion', I must've missed that. I don't know where it is, but I reckon we ought to start looking. I may need a hand up." Michael cannot help bear the weight of a fully-grown dragon, but he tries to think more on this so-called "mansion." It might not be so easy to find with it already becoming dark, but what other choice do they have now? The city is a no-go. It's this, or turn back...and Michael really doesn't want to find out what that gang would do to get revenge for their boss.

"I am now I've seen you,"

Pol's eye twitched a bit. Oi, oi, oi. Back off of the lady, murderboi, I shall be the one to swoon the maiden... He was a competitive little shit of a ladies man at his core, even if the apocalypse made lady-swooning a bit more difficult. He kept this thought to himself, stealing a momentary glare at the dragon, half tempted to 'accidentally' poke one of his sores... But for now, the whole living thing takes a good priority.

"Well, lover boy, they're here now. The leafy one is the man to be thanked for helping get more berries, so I'm not about to tell anyone to scram." Micheal nudges the two to intro themselves, and Auriel gives her life summary once more, with Leto awkwardly stammering out something resembling a reason not to have Rocket try and shoo him away.

At some point, someone mentions a mansion? Pol doesn't recall seeing anything big like that, but if it's around, it's their best chance in all likelihood. He looks back towards the city- once again, cringing a bit at the thought of returning there. "I don't know where it is, but I reckon we ought to start looking. I may need a hand up," If anyone knew where this mansion was, it'd be, you know, SLIGHTLY more possible to find it? Either way, one step at a time... The Lucario steps over beside rocket, kneeling down with a paw outstretched. Rocket could try to take it, or put his hand on Polnareff's shoulder, whichever fancies his panties.

((Sorry for the short post. Having a difficult time making multi-paras lately :s )

The Absol had a beautiful voice, that's for sure. But if Leto had fur, it would be bristling; he could feel his entire body tense in anticipation of the Garchomps' response. Auriels' (which, he knew now was her name, as he had mentioned her before and no one corrected him) singing was something Leto would volunteer to listen to at any other time, but as of right now he was so terrified of anything infuriating the Garchomp that he kept his jaw taut. Even though Polnareff had mentioned that Leto was the one who scavenged the berries, an ominous feeling of dread loomed over his mind everytime he looked at the Garchomp--specifically, his teeth.

Auriel pulled out a small stone, and it was truly a sight to behold. It glinted in the dim light, then faded as overcast clouds crept across the sky. "It's my old trainer's mega stone. He bought it from a friend and gave it to me. I never saw him again until the beginning of the epidemic. He died to save me."

Oh God, oh God. Leto wanted to respond to her story, to inquire more about her past to show that he was interested, but he was afraid small-talk might infuriate the Garchomp. He seemed to be an official, no-funny-business, serious type; at least, that's what Leto had gauged in these few moments. He slinked backwards towards Auriel, and his heart sank as he realized there were tears on her face. He stood on the tip of his toes, gripping his headphones to steady them. Leto decided the best course of action would be to whisper to her, that way his words wouldn't take from Rockets' current focus--escape. He didn't want to do anything to irritate them right now. He leaned himself towards Auriels' ear, "Hey there, d--don't you cry. When we get moving, I would love to hear more about your trainer, uh, I've heard talking about things helps you feel better and you're obviously upset, no, I didn't mean that in a bad way, oops. But don't worry. It's okay to be upset." He plopped himself back on normal footing, grinning up at the Absol. Good, he had said what he needed to say without making a fuss.

As Leto tiptoed back towards the center of the group, he observed Rocket eye the berries still in the reptiles' hand, then flinched noticeably as his claw pierced the fruit and he threw it into his mouth. With each rhythmic chew, Leto imagined Rocket grinding him to a pulp with his dagger-like teeth. He shivered; he would do anything he could to stay on his good side.

In his fear-hazed mind, he gathered that they were talking about moving. He strained to remain focused, throwing his mind back into the conversation as Rocket boomed, "As for this 'mansion', I must've missed that. I don't know where it is, but I reckon we ought to start looking. I may need a hand up."

Letos' eyes widened, and his heart pummeled in his chest. Mansion? He remembered a mansion! A massive one, with walls as high as a Legendary! "H--hey!" he cried out a little louder than intended, pride causing his fear to ebb. "I know where that is! Well, the general area, anyways. I don't know the exact location, but I do know that it iiiiiissss," he leapt in front of the crowd, pointing towards the adjacent route. "That way. I passed it when I was coming through here." Leto had heard that Rocket had needed assistance rising to his feet, but he wasn't about to risk having that behemoth fall and flatten him, so he pretended not to hear. He hated to be rude, but he figured he was helping by offering his navigation skills.

[[OOC; I couldn't remember Auriels' text color, so I just used pink instead. I probably missed it when looking for it in her profile, given I just woke up. Haha. Sorry about that.]]

South Gate| HEARTHOME |7

Auriel looked at Leto as he came closer. When she heard him whisper "Hey there, d--don't you cry," she immediately smiled, although it was a half-hearted one at best. As Leto spoke, Auriel was regaining some composure. She asked the team, "Could you explain how this little posse formed? Just out of curiosity." Just as she said this, she looked down at her paws. "Sorry." She had started to become wary of the group, although it was paranoid to do so.

At first, things had been just peachy. ...Okay, maybe not. Rocket, Francesca, and Polnareff were all injured, Connor was still in the throes of his panic attack, and nobody really knew where they were going. With night falling, Michael grew impatient, walking around in a "perimeter" of sorts to ensure nothing was creeping up on them. His species had a very keen sense of smell, that much he could attest to. There were no unusual scents, and Michael figured they were doing fine. Rocket was back on his feet, and they were almost ready to get going.

Of course that'd be when the shit hit the fan.

His first warning is the faint scent of fresh rot, not the stale garbage that always lingered around once-populated areas. It is sickly-sweet, like flowers, only...not the kind of flowers you'd want to keep around your den. As the night breeze brushes against his fur, Michael realizes all too suddenly what this all meant, and why that disgustingly sweet smell is all too familiar.

His words become a strangled yip of both shock and pain as sharpened leaves fly past him, one grazing past his neck and another burying itself into his right foreleg. Someone says-something, but he isn't sure what; the sudden pain makes his mind unable to focus on anything but the sharpened point burying itself in his flesh. He stumbles, causing Connor to give a sudden cry and nearly lose his place on his back. Hearing that brings him somewhat back to his senses, but when Michael looks up, he spots his attacker.

Before him is a nightmare of a Roserade, the flowers on its arms long wilted and stained deep purple. Its entire body is painted red and purple, the colors bleeding together. Flanked by decaying Roselia, Michael knows his initial suspicions are entirely correct-the goddamn Roserade is using Sweet Scent, drawing more of its fellow Grass-types to it. Goddess knows how many it could call.

With their most potent fighters already weakened, there's no way they can fight this thing and its soon-to-be army. They have to run or they are all going to die. But Michael can't just run without at least trying to get to one of the others.

Petals begin to whip up through the air, no doubt summoned by the fucking Roserade. Petal Dance? Michael didn't give a damn; he struggles back to his full height.
"We have to get the hell out of here!" His shout might be pointless; he can't see Rocket and Fran anymore thanks to the petals, and Polnareff is only a vague shape. Michael growls as several Roselia turn their attention back to him, drawn by his voice even as their Roserade leader  moved away. He sends a Heat Wave at the ones closest to keep them away from Connor, but dares not use his full power; in this damned storm of petals, he could hit one of their own.

Michael calls out to the Lucario, trying to draw at least one familiar face to him, but even if there is a response, his attention is quickly drawn towards something that makes his heart just about stop right then and there. As if things couldn't get any worse, there is another Roserade. Another fucking Roserade! This one isn't as rotted as the Roselia's surrounding it, nor the other Roserade with it. It must have been fresher, maybe even smarter, but no less keen on ripping them to pieces. Did this one know Sweet Scent too? Goddess, they might have a full-blown horde descending right upon them.

"We have to go! This way!" Michael calls out, in the hopes that they would be able to find him by his voice. Their only hope lay in escaping down the route before them, not through the city-and their window of opportunity is slowly closing.


{SO. I'm lead now, friends, but don't fear: the basic plot is still getting to the mansion down this route. However, since Rocket and Francesca are both inactive, something had to be done to make their departure-for lack of a better word-seem at least a little plausible. The idea is that they will become separated from Connor/Mike, Polnareff, Leto, and Auriel during this attack. A Roserade was chosen because of its type disadvantage against most of them, so they can reasonably get through the attack. For now, assume Michael is the one farthest away from the Hearthome gate. It's also perfectly fine for the others to have sensed the undead's approach.

Please bear with me during this transition! I hope to be a good lead for this team ; w ;}

The Garchomp wasn't ready to get up and about yet, and seemed content chatting up Francesca... And she seemed just as content. Looks like Pol had some competition if he wanted to get any closer to the new lady friend. With a soft- and somewhat disheartened grunt, he rises to his feet once more, walking back towards the Banana, Ariel and the kiddos. Figures, he walks in on a bit of a deep moment, though.

"It's my old trainer's mega stone. He bought it from a friend and gave it to me. I never saw him again until the beginning of the epidemic. He died to save me." Trainer... Pol hadn't actually encountered any humans before. Passing glances before shit hit the fan, and seeing a few at a distance sometimes after, but not once had he actually been around a human for a good period of time. Maybe if he had been trained, his sister...

His thoughts are snapped back to the moment by the asparagus, apparently having some clue where to go. "I know where that is! Well, the general area, anyways. I don't know the exact location, but I do know that it iiiiiissss,"

...and just like that, the elongated 'is...' inspired a bit of doubt. Though, even so, it was the best lead they had. Besides... knowing this guy, it was probably a dramatic pause or some shit like that.

"Could you explain how this little posse formed? Just out of curiosity." Oho, another lady though... Perhaps Pol could emerge victorious, with two  fantastic women beside him? Perhaps a bit over-achieving, but he IS a ladies man~ "Well, I just came along recently- got into that town right there, and the... 'indiginous' group decided to attack on sight. This group here were fighting them too, and since they didn't attack on sight, I figured my chances were best with them. Took my fair share of hits... we all did. Hardly got out of there in one piece, and there were more of us when we were in the city, to boot." Where did those others disappear to anyways...? Coulda used the combat prowess. After getting out here, Leto showed up. Actually helped us out decently, got some berries for the injured. Then you showed up, and that's my story for the past few hours with this new collection of odd ones."

Micheal's outcry causes Pol to whirl around- What NOW? Can they not just catch a goddamned break?! Of course, the answer is all to real- of course they can't. It's the apocalypse, after all. Petal storm? No, but something close enough. It gets the point across- fuckin stings, on top of everything else. Not all too efffective though, save for starting to fill the area with leaves to the point of hindering sight. Pol locked eyes on the forms that were the kiddos,  and a fainter view of what he glimpsed to be a Roselia. No time to think... "We have to get the hell out of here!"

He's right. STICK TO THE ROUTE! FUCKING RUN!" Fran and Rocket were a good distance away, they should be able to get away with little problem. The kids though... He dashes towards them, muscles yelling at him for not letting the break last longer. Of course, he ignores this- nicks and ticks of leaves smacking and grazing him as he leans down, scoops Micheal up- shit... another fuckin enemy? No time... He pivots, and runs towards the other junior, scooping him up, under his arms like a pair of (American) footballs. He just runs, keeping eyes on his peripherals to make sure nothing decides to jump out... nothing new, at least. Run... just keep running!

((OOC: Permission given to pick the kiddos up :3 LETS DO DIS ATLAS <3))

It happened so suddenly--one moment, they were all chatting and planning their next course of action, almost as if everything were normal and they were buddies going camping or something. Then, leaves swarmed in his vision, blotting out the sky, the very sun. "Whaa?" he grogged, swishing his tail in perplexion. He contemplated playing with one of the plants--he truly loved leaves, biased due to his typing. But when sharp cries roared from those around him, and he himself was nicked with one of the offending plants--"We have to get the hell out of here!"

"You're telling me!" shrieked Leto as panic set in. He was unsure of what to do. In the haze, he felt a source of heat of which he assumed was a fire attack from either Michael or Rocket. What was going on?

Leto focused on dodging the sharp foliage, although he was inevitably nicked a few times. He yelped, clutching his headphones instinctively. Over the uproar, he heard Polnareffs voice, but it was lost in the wave of bustling wind.

The tornado cleared for a moment--Leto caught sight of the beast before they were shrouded again in their own attacks. He could see nothing but green. His mouth was dry, paralyzed by fear. As luck would have it, he was struck in the side, and he cried out as blood welled from the new incision. "What is going on?!"

[[ooc; sorry for the bland dialogue and overall lackluster post, been a loooong week ;-;]]

White, white, everything white. Such a pristine world she was creating. Her ice was the epitome of beauty and strength and when painted over the living world it created a newer, better one in its place. A childish Christmas carol came to mind as she coated the landscape in glittering snow and elegant sculptures, smiling to herself until her lovely peace was broken by the sounds of screaming.

Wretched flesh bags. Always causing trouble and making her perfect world a mess with their stumbling and that awful red heat they sprayed everywhere when gutted. Well, she would have to see to them before they caused any trouble to this new patch of paradise she had created. Wouldn't she?

Moving towards the sounds of terror she let out a hearty cackle at the sight of four lonely beasts surrounded by her lesser brethren. If they were no match for such pitiful copies then they surely held no challenge for her, though they would make lovely additions to her garden. She continued to hoot and howl with laughter as the Roselia threw razor sharp leaves, lacerating the group as they moved to surround them. The scent of blood hit her keen nose and at once her laughter stopped. That wretched heat. These pathetic mockeries were letting the heat out!

"STOP!" She hissed angrily, blasting a Dark Pulse at the center of the mass to scatter them. "You'll ruin everything!" The Roserade angrily shrunk back before her power and the Roselia followed giving the Harbinger a free path to the party. One of their group it decided to try and make a run for it through the gap and attempted to get past her. She didn't know what possessed the meatbag to make such a grave error but it mattered not.

As the white pelt flashed in her peripheral she lunged out with her razor sharp claws and successfully buried them into the rib cage of the Absol. She frowned as the sticky warmth of his insides coated her claws and her wrist, angrily tossing the yelping mongrel to the Roselia. She grinned as they swarmed over him, sheering flesh and fur as it screamed in pain. What a lovely sight.

The air around her began to grow deathly cold as she summoned her ice beam, the Roserade ducking away as it sensed its own peril, and unleashed it upon the swarm. A few tried to escape the blast of cold but her ice was sticky and fast and soon the Absol, the swarm, and the few running away were completely encased in beautiful, shimmering ice. Another sculpture for her garden. Giggling madly she began to cover the surrounding area in ice to match her new statue, managing to catch a few more Roselia in her wake. Looking at the rest of the worthless fleshy heaters she grinned and gave them a little wave before turning back to the Roserade. "Enjoy what's left," she called out happily before moving on to continue her winter wonderland.

The zebstrika's ears flick back and forth, keeping tabs on nearby sounds as Wildheart makes his way through route 212. The lower the sun sinks, the more anxious he becomes. A whole day of traveling and no shelter to speak for it, it would have to be another sleepless night on guard... His earlier wounds hiss in protest as he presses forward, an earthquake can do that too you, but he lived. How exactly he was able to escape with his life he doesn't know. There was some sort of metal eevee? A flash? Wildheart shakes his head, ruffling his mane and putting a little extra energy in his tired eyes. Footfalls. Fast ones, more then one heading his way and shouting he can't decipher.

Without warning a flash of bright light momentarily blinds him as an unusual icy chill creeps past his ankles, too unnatural to be winter approaching. As his eyes open again he sees it. A small, but powerful figure, blood-coated and triumphant. The sight of the undead makes his own blood run cold, instinct telling him this would be a fight he could not win. Seemingly with its work done, it departs back into the growing shadows. The odd sculpture it leaves behind...he rather not inspect further. In the opposite direction from it, more movement catches his eyes -- figures darting along the route, opposite to where he was heading, but also opposite the carnage. Kicking at the ground, Wildheart turns his body around, galloping to catch up with the others fleeing the battle. His mane and tail sparking with electricity as his adrenaline rises.

Fortune must be on his side. Polnareff no doubt heard his shout, because the Lucario arrives seconds after, scooping Michael up as easily as one would pick up a feather. Normally, he would object to being carried about like a child, but this is life-or-death, and there is still a sharpened leaf sticking out of his leg. Relief sails his way as Polnareff retrieves Connor as well; leaving the kid to these monsters would have been...well, Michael did not want to know. The three of them dash off in the opposite direction of Hearthome, though some petals still manage to tear small cuts into Michael's skin. Goddess damn them all. Anyone still caught in that storm wouldn't leave in one piece. Speaking of anyone else...

Where is Auriel? Rocket? Francesca? Michael hears Leto cry out, but in this storm of petals, it is impossible to see where he might be. Polnareff makes the wise decision of not stopping to try and find the grass snake; there's no time to stop, even if it means leaving the others behind. If they attempt to save their allies, then they would only be putting the kid in danger for the sake of a fruitless search. No. Rocket and Fran could handle themselves, and the other two...Michael is not so sure. Necessary collateral. Yes, that is it. He can't die here. His beloved is still out there waiting for him to return, and Michael will not let them down. Not again...

Michael wishes he could flatten his ears as unwanted sounds reach him: screaming. Those shrieks can only belong to someone in the throes of a painful death, but he does not know who they belong to. He will likely never know. His teeth grit together in an attempt to tear his focus away from those unholy sounds, and those which are ill-aligned painfully dig into his lower gums. Blood coats the inside of his mouth and tongue. Someone is dead now, and they are unable to act. Michael can recognize their fleeing as a necessary act, but that does not mean he cannot regret an unnecessary death. If there is any mercy still left in this world, then let the dying one leave this world sooner rather than later.

Goddess, why is it suddenly so cold?

No, that doesn't matter. Michael cannot look back even if he wanted to. If the others survived, they have only two directions to go: back into the city, or the same path that he, Connor, and Polnareff are now on. Whoever remains within their ragtag group will be clear soon enough, but for now, the only thing they can do is run, and get as far away from this accursed place as possible.


(Skipping Connor this turn. If it's okay with everyone, I was thinking that next round we could get everyone to meet up...if a time skip is necessary that's totally fine, it probably should be night by now anyways lol. Thank you for sticking with me through this rather chaotic start ;n;)

Wildheart's hooves pound the earth below him, carrying him as fast as they can away from the undead horror. Daring a glance back, he notices the ice type has not returned -- or at least is still not visible in the growing shadows. Still focused on trying to find the harbinger in the dark, a sharpened leaf from the visible undead gazes his cheek earning a squeal from the surprised and frustrated zebstrika. Quickly, he turns his head back around, ears pricked back.

This is a fight for another day... he tells himself, shoving down the urge to turn and stand his ground. He can't see that well in the dark--whatever this thing is probably can. By this point, the equine is able to bring himself alongside the other fleeing pokemon and spares a sideways glance at them. Pokemon he didn't recognize, all of them different colors and sizes with the largest carrying the others. Why? They would slow themselves down. With a suddent burst of adrenaline, Wildheart digs his hooves in, turning himself in a tight circle to turn on the trailing undead.

With another high-pitched sound, he discharges the electricity sparking between his tail and mane. The surging energy collecting and crackling out from him in a shockwave. Not waiting around to see how effective it is, the zebstrika completes his turn to come full circle and race after the other survivors.

Michael hadn't truly expected anyone from their splintered group to catch up with them past that undead horde. It would have taken both a miracle and a great deal of stupidity to pass through the petal storm instead of fleeing towards Hearthome; better a territorial gang than those Roserade, right? Maybe not. The point is, Michael had no expectations of seeing any other Pokemon other than, obviously, Polnareff and Connor. It's a little hard to miss someone carrying you. Had Michael seen, say, Rocket or Fran, it would have been similar to seeing a Magikarp jump out from a hole in the ground.

So when he spots another stranger running alongside them, it nearly shocks the fur right off of his body. Where in all the hells of the world are they coming from? Oh, what does it matter-his mind is too worn down from adrenaline to even begin figuring out how this place is attracting so many new Pokemon. If this black-and-white horse (Michael can't put a name upon the species) wants to follow them to Goddess-knows-where, then all the power to them. Most likely, they are all going to die anyway; someone already has.

Still, he should warn Polnareff, in case the Lucario hasn't already spotted their newest follower. The horse-thing has fallen behind for whatever reason, so at least they won't overhear him speaking.

"Hey, Polnareff, did you see that guy next to us?" Michael would love to know who this stranger is and what their deal is (running from those fucking plants, probably), but they can't be that far ahead of the horde...

(skipping Connor again, most likely will continue until everyone gets together.)

On top of the leaves trying to turn him into a culinary cuisine piece, something was trying to freeze him to boot... but it seemed like it was behind him, not giving chase- the auras were faintly dispersing, one by one. The others... at the very least, it was unlikely that they would be rejoining together after this. His pace slows for just a moment as he hears the wails, an aura wildly sputtering behind him... ...Damnit. No time to think about it now... he had to keep running. It felt like someone was pumping boiling water up his legs with how much they burned. Running, running, feels like he had done nothing but make a mad dash through the day.

There was one coming closer. With a relieved smile, Pol does glance back- stricken with regret the moment he does. Not one of the ones he knew trailed behind him, only some new Zebstrika. He knows he can't think on it still- while the undead weren't exactly keeping up with them, so it seemed, there still needed to be plenty of distance put between the living and the dead in order to lose their tail.

"Hey, Polnareff, did you see that guy next to us?"

With a nod amongst pained huffs and groans, he simply continues onward. More distance, head towards the castle if we can... Yeah, noticed!" He keeps some distance from the newbie, still unsure of intent, and simply runs, until either it's safe, or his legs just fall from under him.

((OOC: Feel free to time skip if you wanna mister abysswalka, and have Pol drop the kids off or what you need ta do :3))

(( ooc: Please skip me this round. ))

Ever since they fled, Connor hasn't said a word. Too much happening in too short of a time made him withdraw into himself, lest their situation overwhelm him. It is only their sudden stop that jolts a part of him back into the present, but to his ever-increasing distress, his sister is still nowhere to be seen. Connor had thought that maybe, if he closed his eyes long enough, then he could open them again to see that she'd never left in the first place. Like every other time, it hadn't worked. Penelope was gone, Bee was gone, Halloween was gone...even Rocket and Fran, too. Who else would end up leaving him behind? His only solace is that the girl that reminded him of Reaper wasn't there, but as soon as he thinks that, guilt quickly took the place of relief. It wasn't her fault.

Connor's legs shake terribly as he's set down, but he manages not to fall over. Polnareff looks way worse for wear, and Michael is almost limping. The Eevee has no idea where they are, and his head hurts terribly. It doesn't even feel like a full day has passed, yet all this horrible stuff keeps happening over and over. The weight of fear and stress almost causes him to collapse completely, and tears flow freely down the sides of his face. He can't keep crying, though. Connor can remember all the times he cried, how loud the sobs were, and Penelope's scolding each time it happened. Who knew what could jump from the increasing darkness if they heard such noise? That's why Connor hated night. He wonders if Polnareff would mind if he hid behind him.


Michael grimaces at the wound on his leg, the damn leaf still sticking out of it. He's only somewhat familiar with a move like Razor Leaf, but apparently, the projectiles didn't immediately turn as soft as their regular counterparts once they found a target. Strange. Some blood oozes from around the plant, and Michael would rather not find out what that flow would turn into if he removed the leaf.

Looking around, their situation is less dire than a horde of undead, but shitty nonetheless. Night's fallen, and Michael has no idea where they are. There's still a bunch of tightly-knit trees, and what could be some sort of body of water, but he can't make out anything that would be helpful direction-wise. Hadn't Auriel-rest her soul-mentioned some sort of building around here? Or was that Rocket? Oh, whatever, the specifics didn't matter. Either way, they need to find a place to low lay, and soon. All of them are exhausted, and nighttime is always, without fail, an incredibly shitty time. Not to mention they've got a newcomer to deal with...and a kid whose no doubt frightened out of his mind.

"You guys alright?" Michael asks his companions, keeping his voice down as to not attract unwanted attention. They've already escaped the jaws of one herd; it was best not to bring another one down upon them. "I wonder if we're close to that place Auriel mentioned. That mansion-or house, something like that. I'd rather not be stuck out in the dark."

Pol just couldn’t go anymore, his legs would simply give out if he kept this up. He slows to a stop, and puts the two down as gently as he can before sitting, then laying down on the floor. Déjà vu… Just like after the city. Tired, battered, and on the floor. Just with considerably fewer people around this time… though, at least it wasn’t just him and the small ones alone. Hopefully the Zebriska was to be an ally, and not some new crazy to deal with… Seems that the newcomer was still catching up, though.

"You guys alright?" Polnareff, huffing and puffing in stuttering, pained breaths, offered the closest thing to a thumbs up that he could give.  He sits back up, looking around- the shitstorm caused time to pass, and unfortunately, night had fully set in upon them. He closes his eyes, attempting to focus. Auras… nothing. At least, nothing that shouldn’t be around- a bit difficult to seek farther out in his current state, but at least they weren’t in immediate danger for now. "I wonder if we're close to that place Auriel mentioned. That mansion-or house, something like that. I'd rather not be stuck out in the dark." They’d headed somewhat in the right direction, at least… Pol only offers a nod, waiting for the newbie to come join in. They’d need someone who isn’t at the end of their rope for this.

Wildheart doesn’t turn back to see how effective his attack was on the undead, but it’s not much longer that the night once again becomes quiet. He slows to a trot as the small group of survivors he had been trailing comes into view. Stopping a few yards back he takes a moment to assess them as he catches his breath. However tired he felt, they looked like they might have actually just finished walking through hell. They were ragged, out of breath, covered in cuts and razor-sharp leaves, the smallest among them was trying their best to contain sobs that racked their small form.

Cautiously, Wildheart closes the distance between him and the group and catches the trail end of a sentence as the canine speaks. Mansion? He dips his neck low to be closer to eye-level as he starts to speak. “I think that thing lost our trail…How badly are you hurt?” He asks in a hushed tone that still sounds entirely too loud to his ears in the dead silence hanging in the night air. As he asks, he observes the striped canine examining the embedded leaves before turning away to ignore them. ”My name is Wildheart, I saw you when that thing showed up…thought you might have a better idea of where to head than me.”