The ALPH Team (PLOT)

Latias only half-listened to the exchange between the Doctor and Buck, tuning out as conversation drew away from the ruins themselves. She had no interest in these other landmarks. Five years earlier, talk of exploration would have ensnared her young senses but now Latias hadn’t the luxury of having interests. She had only a short list of fixations; primarily matters of life and death.

"Of course! We forgot about her bug sting! If I recall correctly..."

She hadn’t wanted to bring the issue up again – keen to resolve it herself, but the Doctor’s concern touched her more than she cared to admit. A small smile touched her tired face as the Abra darted off towards a nearby berry bush. When did that get there? Latias had been oblivious. She’d hardly processed how far the small group had travelled in the past few minutes, seemingly gliding on auto-pilot and allowing another to take control. She shuddered, a chill running down her spine at the realization of how unaware she truly was. She had always been an attentive individual and this strengthening nescience only provided another symptom of her declining condition.

"Haa! Found them! This should be enough to make you right! Right as rain!"
“Oh…” The quiet utterance left her lips before she could catch it. Usually she would’ve flinched away at the psychic’s touch, but in that moment Latias resigned herself to the intimacy. It was… nice. Warm. The legendary felt it, and relished in the contact of a creature who cared. Her smile was shy as she accepted the berries. “Thank you,”
"And now it seems we're even, after what Tails' had told me about before..."

The Doctor’s face changed suddenly, slipping into a state of fear that infected Latias. She instinctively recoiled away from him as he leapt away, suddenly frenzied and scanning for something she had forgotten herself.
“Where are they? Where's Tails? Where are the others?"
“Wait!” A rush of panic shot through her veins at the prospect of the male’s departure. I can’t lose you. Her feelings, powerful, were inexplicable. She hadn’t felt such an attachment since Latios, and the threat of losing him terrified the legendary. She had let her defences down, allowing in some foreign emotion to stimulate her aching heart and now, she realized it.

Catching herself before she moved to pursue the Abra, she exhaled deeply and closed her eyes. You can’t do this. You can’t get attached. She scolded herself viciously. It will only hurt more when they’re gone. When they’re dead…

And everyone dies in the end.

She gasped loudly, eyes wide at hearing the stranger in her head.

"We have to go back for them! They won't last outside at night! Not here, not by themselves!" The Doctor had come back, angrily insisting that they should search for the missing parties. Latias, shaken but determined, silenced her panic by hurriedly consuming the berries. She distracted herself with the problem at hand as the items’ healing properties worked to alleviate an amount of her pain.

Latias liked the fox, troubled as she seemed, and possessed a quiet concern for the female. The young Buizel was endearing but still a stranger to the legend. The bird was an annoyance, the muzzled hound a paradox, and the human she was quietly glad to be rid of. She didn’t trust their kind. Not after this mess.  

"I dunno, Doc ... it's getting kind of dark. I wouldn't want us to end up getting lost out here. Besides...” Buck was the voice of reason, responding with a rationality Latias admired. “Maybe they didn't 'get lost' - it could've been their choice to leave us. They don't seem like the type to just wander off and randomly get themselves lost." It made sense. She had forgotten them effortlessly and perhaps… they had chosen to do the same.
“I… I agree,” Latias finally admitted, knowing full-well that it wasn’t the response the Doctor would want to hear. “They’re strong. They can look after themselves. They can survive the night, and if they’re looking for us, I’ve no doubt they’ll find us. Leave a sign – something they can follow? They’re smart, Doctor,”

“And, we –“ Latias stopped herself. “I, need to rest,” The correction, the admittance that she was in fact weak was crippling to her ego. It was as humiliating as it was painful, evident in her features as she determinedly avoided eye contact with either of the males. “We can look for them tomorrow,”

If they’re alive.

The Doctors' mouth stood agape, his brows furrowed in disgusted angst. He couldn't believe what he was hearing, and it was making him angrier with each passing moment.

"No. No, no. What'chu mean by that, 'didn't get lost?'" He snarled at the Weavile, stalking up to him and shoving his face in the others. "You speaking for their own good, or for yours? What if it was you out there, eh? What if you were the one surrounded by those things, and we just decided it was best to just realize that 'you didn't get lost?'" The Abra turned his nose up at the ice type, his fur bristling on his neck. "What kind of pokemon are you anyway? What kind of pathetic thing would turn their back on someone that needs help, let alone a child, alone in the woods!?"

“I… I agree,” the legendary interrupted quietly. The Doctor fell silent, his back to her this whole time, now turned to her with a look of distraught betrayal on his face.

“They’re strong," She continued. "They can look after themselves. They can survive the night, and if they’re looking for us, I’ve no doubt they’ll find us. Leave a sign – something they can follow? They’re smart, Doctor.”

“And, we –I, need to rest,” She admitted through gritted teeth. The legends' aura was swirling purple and black, and the reciprocating side-effect of the intake of others' emotions began to eat at the vulpines' mind. His face grew hard as he stopped listening to the flying beast, and turned his back on them both with a long and determined stride. Backtracking a few feet, he stopped and gazed slowly out into the growing darkness. With a swift and elegant movement of his arms swinging forward and back again, a nearly silent pulse of sound and light flickered into a great bubble that flitted and disappeared before him.
As his eyes closed and his face lifted to the sky, he slowly explained himself, to avoid the possibility of the simpletons breaking his concentration.
"I've not given up on them. I can send out a net to pinpoint their location, and any undead in the process. I can see and feel auras, every one- even everybodies' here, and you all wreak of cowardice and apathy!" He snapped with a quiet growl."Why do you think I can do so much? I'm clever, I'm a Psychic, and I don't leave others behind. I'm a Time Lord, it's part of the burden. I'm the Doctor." He sighed heavily, collecting himself. "Everyones' going to live, just this once." He growled under his breath, not opening his eyes as he felt a disturbing amount of negative energy flowing from the forests behind them, all undead energy, and nothing alive. Not a single thing.

"Where are you? Show me a sign!" He hissed, his eyes still firmly shut. "Just one, that's all. Just one li-" The foxes' eyes shot open as his body suddenly stiffened and a painful gasp ripped through his lungs.
"Oh ̧my.̕.. ̕i̵t has b͏ee̴n͏ ̷a ͏wh́ile.̵.͏.̛.
No...nonononono...!!With a sudden shriek, the Time Lord fell to his knees, trembling and convulsing. Unfathomable screams tore from his throat. The purple irises rolled up into his skull as he fell to the ground, clenching his body as he fought with all his might to turn his howls into agonized growling.

Screams turned to pained snarling as he shakily got to his knees. The purest of rage. The fear. The overwhelming pain. It was too much for the Abra, bombarded all at once.

And he knew exactly what was coming.

The fox pulled himself to his feet, staggering and stumbling to the others. His voice trembled and shook with unmasked panic and dread.
"Y-y-you need t-to run..." He half-whispered, as if he was afraid of someone overhearing his plea. "If you c-care at all about your life at all, y-you need to run. I d-don't care where you run, but you need to go as fast as you can, as far as you can." He spit-fired at the two of them, his dark lavender eyes filled with what could only be described as an oncoming storm.

"And don't you dare look back! Don't you dare! Now go!" He screamed at them, utterly confounded by their lack of movement. He turned as the air began shimmering with a red, bloody tint around them, as if the air itself began to bleed. The Doctor lifted himself off the ground, raising his arms as his whole body glowed with a pale blue aura and levitated a few feet off the earth.

"What are you waiting for, GO!" He commanded, bellowing over his shoulder.

(Alhoon is now coming in to post. It's breaking post order, but for plots' sake. Just go with us.)

The harbinger's teeth clenched in fury, pointed tips slicing the flesh surrounding their mates. Black blood, thick as tar, trickled down his throat, his jaw. Eyes were wide, staring forward into the roiling chaos of the space outside space. [You must be registered and logged in to see this link.] His mind blasted out, to this world, to ALL worlds, a message of hate sent forth to all those with minds to hear it [You must be registered and logged in to see this link.] The warp loosed him on the edge of ruins. His mind instinctually began to cast our even as his eyes registered.... Ḩ̭͖̟̠ͪͯ̈́͒ͯ̊I̴̡̩͈̹̦̳̪ͥ͊ͩM̭͊̅̑̏ͫ̃͒...

He was floating, eyes lit from within with psionic fire, shrouded in strange energies. The Abra's eyes focused on him, and opened his mouth to shout, hands already thrusting forward to unleash his hellish pulse of energy.

The undead psychic rolled forward, not bothering to... entertain this FOOLS games. He reached up, and with one gaunt hand grabbed the Doctor, palm smashed against the Abra's open muzzle. He reared his arm back, and a dry crunch was heard by all as the small pokemon's body impacted the dirt. The doctor stood, scrabbling backwards to his feet, a flicker of light flashing through his eyes before he was lifted into the air and smashed into a nearby tree.

His voice dropped, a threatening growl from one to the other, [You must be registered and logged in to see this link.] Alhoon fell backwards, reappearing with a boom of unsettled air mere inches from the Abra, a fist pistoning out into his chest. A wet crunch clapped outwards, and the doctor stumbled backwards, blood already seeping from the ruined armor of his chest.  [You must be registered and logged in to see this link.]

Only after all this did the undead allow his eyes to sweep the clearing, stopping immediately on... [You must be registered and logged in to see this link.]

I'm coming for you, doctor. I'm coming for you, and oh gods shall silence fall when I find you.

The Doctor quaked as the resonating, booming voice echoed far and wide through his mind and undoubtedly others, searching for him. With a shred in the fabric of space and time, screams and agony flooded forth with the Eldritch atrocity. What once was an Alakazam was nothing more than a monstrous creature now, hellbent on revenge and the enjoyment of the pain and agony of others.
He was just like the rest.

"Alhoon." The Doctor says, clenching his jaws as he prepares a powerful blast. But the dark psionic was too quick. The abomination grabbed the Doctor by the jaws and tossed him backwards. The Abra landed with a heavy thud and crunch as his arm twisted the wrong way on impact. But the small fox scrambled up hastily, determined not to lose himself to this demonic creature, only to be lifted up and smashed into a large tree with a loud crunch. The Doctor cried out in pain as his back cracked from the collision, falling to his knees.

"Alhoon...I'm warning you. Get back. Go back to wherever your hell resides. Don't even try to fight me again. Remember what happened the last time." The fox snarled, blood dripping from the sides of his maw as he got back to his feet. A powerful Psychic grew in his paw, ready to slice it right into the undead abomination.

"Not this time, traitor... Not this time. Not after what you did last time..."
Ignoring the creatures' threat, he shot the charged energy at him, but again the harbinger appeared too fast. He quickly disappeared, only to reappear inches from his face, his tentacles writhing as his fist slammed into the foxes' armored chest with a heavy blow. The umber armor snapped with a wet crunch on the left side of his chest, blood seeping from the tiny gaps. The Doctor cried out in pain without a sound, his breath coming out in wet gasps as he fell to the ground. He could feel the left heart falter as it struggled to keep beating. His face was crunched up in agonized pain as he held his paw against his partially shattered armor.

"Don't you even T̴HI͡N̸K҉ of raising those traitor's hands to me. Not this time. Not after what they've done..."

"Now aren't you a prize to be found, Legend. I wasn't aware the traitor kept such company as you..."
The Doctor raises his pained lavender eyes, following the atrocities' gaze.
No! Not her! Not ever, not her! He thought in a panic, ignoring his damaged chest.
With a mad scramble, the fox stands in front of the avian legend.

"Don't you d-dare. She's protected." The Doctor warned, a dark snarl plastered across his bloodied face. "This is your last warning, Alhoon. Leave now."

(Alright, for the time being, its' going back to normal cycle. Alhoon will post again after Latias. Don't try to attack him or anything though, this is between him and the doctor)

"I'm happy," Hannibal replied, flashing him a grin through his muzzle. Garth smiled back and nodded, finding it deliciously ironic that the Houndoom had just unwittingly saved his own life by extending it by just a few hours. "The group can't be far off," he then said, sniffing the air and then lowering his head to the ground. A few drops of thick, discoloured blood had congealed itself into the ground. Garth felt his own saliva starting to build in his mouth.

"Latias. Poison, I think. We're on the right track." Garth just nodded again, his jaw held rigidly shut as he stared at the blood from the corner of his eye. "Now, I intend to return to the group. You can follow me from afar but keep your distance. They have keen senses – especially the Abra. I’ll break away from them before dawn, briefly however. Meet me then. I can update you on proceedings."

Dawn?! Garth broke his gaze away from the bloodstains long enough to look at the dog, forcing himself to smile and nod, yet again. He realised that he'd been incredibly quiet, but quite frankly he wanted the mutt out of the way before he fucked it all up and killed him. The alluring scent of the blood wasn't helping. And now he had to wait until dawn?

"You can trust me," Hannibal added as a parting comment before taking off towards the city. The second he was out of sight, Garth dropped to his knees and ravenously licked the blood up from the ground. I didn't matter what was in it; he was fucked either way. It tasted divine, just like the creature who had previously owned it. The second the taste was gone he wanted more. He would get more, but he'd have to wait ... until ... dawn...

Garth stood up, licking his lips and spitting out the dirt from off his tongue. No. There was no way in hell he could wait that long. He'd have to create a diversion of some sort - a trap - just to lure one of them away so he could kill and eat them. Or he could go hunting again and sate his ever increasing appetite with a small snack. Or ... he didn't know. All he knew was that he had a time limit, and he had no way of knowing when he would drop dead. If that happened before sunrise and he never got to carry out his final slaughter ... he didn't want to think about it.

For now, he thought, he'd simply find a place to rest up for his final performance. He knew that they were in the city, so he could just find a tree to relax in and plan his assault. He darted off into the trees, the taste of Latias's beautiful blood still lingering on his tongue.

----

Buck was glad that Latias had agreed with him; made him look a little less of an arsehole. But when the Doctor turned on him, however, Buck was more inclined to drop his nice guy facade and take the idiot's eye out. He'd been grating on his nerves since he'd met him, and now that he was so blatantly insulting him, Buck let all his frustrations vent out.

"What kind of pokemon are you anyway? What kind of pathetic thing would turn their back on someone that needs help, let alone a child, alone in the woods!?"
Pathetic?! A nerve had been struck. "Hey, fuck you!" Buck snarled, giving the Doctor a good shove in the chest. "If you're so goody-goody then you go and look for them! I don't give a shit! In fact, I'm glad that whiny little bitch, the dumb kid and the sniveling excuse for a human aren't here anymore! And I'm starting to wish that YOU would fuck off as well!"

"I've not given up on them. I can send out a net to pinpoint their location, and any undead in the process." Buck stopped listening as he started going on about how he could see auras and how they were cowards blah blah. He told them that he was a Time Lord as though they were supposed to know what the fuck one of those was.

Buck leaned against a tree, folded his arms and scowled into the distance as the Doc did his thing. What he didn't expect, however, was for him to suddenly scream. Immediately on high alert, Buck's eyes frantically scanned the environment, but saw nothing unusual. "What the hell are you--?"

"Y-y-you need t-to run... If you c-care at all about your life at all, y-you need to run. I d-don't care where you run, but you need to go as fast as you can, as far as you can." Buck just stared at him gormlessly, until the air seemed to ... waver. It was as though the air around them was tinged with blooded droplets of water. The very sight of it screamed danger.

"And don't you dare look back! Don't you dare! Now go!" Buck didn't need telling twice. He scrambled up the tree he was leaning against, coming to rest on a branch just as an Alakazam appeared and threw the Abra against the same tree. Buck clung to the bark so hard it almost came off in his hands. Just what the hell was that thing?!

Buck buried his face against the trunk of the tree, not wanting to watch the exchange; just hearing it was enough to get him shivering. That and the fact that he was, indeed, pathetic.

"...Hannibal."

It was the voice of a ghost.

At least, that’s what she should have been. Dead. Hannibal had left them all for dead back in Lostlorn. He hadn’t wanted to, but it had become a necessity – the lesser of two evils in his mind.

He had his back to the speaker, a chill racing down his spine as her breathy utterance echoed within his mind. He refused to believe it. Sil, that plucky doe, was dead. But that voice. It was so real, too real to dismiss as another haunting memory. He turned, not expecting the Sawsbuck to be staring back at him.

For once in his life, Hannibal was truly speechless. His mouth hung slightly agape as maroon eyes devoured her, demanding answers. She was a little beat-up, but there was no denying her state as very much alive.  
“Sil…” He spoke the word disbelievingly, uncaring of the emotion – the shock, the confusion, the relief – that overcame his natural, unnerving calm. It took a moment of suffocating silence before he collected himself. A small smile, only half-wicked, flashed behind the muzzle’s bars. “It’s… Well, it’s certainly been sometime, my dear,”

He wasn’t sure how to respond to the situation. It was simply awkward in the eyes of any normal creature, but Hannibal failed to process the trivial, social tension that encompassed them. His only discomfort came in the form of the personal battle between his own emotions. He had always liked Sil. She’d been his favourite plaything – a dainty little puppet that was slowly growing strong, rigid in the face of hardship. She seemed almost impenetrable now.

It wasn’t happiness, but pride that Hannibal felt. His smile widened into something quiet genuine, eyes flashing with excitement upon the realization of what the little deer had become. There’s no way they all survived the Weavile’s attack – what was the fate of her beloved Cassius? Had she fought, tried to save him? Or had she run? Oh, my dear Sil, what have you done?  Hannibal’s mind was abuzz with questions, the need for answers almost tempting him to speak out of line. But he held his tongue. There would be time for that later.

Whilst part of him – now silenced by his overriding curiosity – was tempted to finish off the undead’s work, Hannibal had now written off the idea as totally abhorrent. It was rude, plain and simple. He couldn’t end her life so callously after such an impressive display of defiance. She deserved something better than that.

“It’s good to see you again,” Hannibal’s word were genuine – uncharacteristic perhaps, but completely sincere. He was glad to see her. Her return – her progress, was interesting, exciting and had already completely ensnared the canine’s attention. A flame had alighted somewhere inside the hound, insatiable in its need to truly understand this ethereal creature. For only when he understood her, could he possess her.

You're not going anywhere, Sil.

The houndoom stood, his back to her, frozen. It seemed he was in about as much shock as she was, taking a moment to turn and actually look at her. Sil stiffened at his eyes hungrily taking in her visage, wary that he was still very much a predator -starving, still- and had an elemental advantage. However, as much as her instinct told her to run or attack before he had a chance to do either, she stayed still, allowing him to thirstily drink in the sight. She swallowed, her gaze unwavering, standing proud against the silent onslaught. She wouldn't be intimidated by him any longer. He was just a starving cur, handicapped by his muzzle-- just as she remembered him. Nothing more.

“Sil…” he began, once the shock seemed to wear from his expression, his voice a tad out of character from her memories. “It’s… Well, it’s certainly been sometime, my dear.”

Yes, it certainly has... Though she growled in her mind, she knew better than to try and speak now. Mind games and manipulation were his entire game, and she wasn't sure whether or not she should step into it just yet. She had felt it a folly to grab his attention in the first place. But the brief but genuine smile threw her; a sort of true relief and happiness graced the hound's expression if for only a few fleeting moments... What were those? Why would... He wasn't actually happy to see her, was he? Why would he be, if not taking her for some quick meal? Her own stone façade cracked, if only for a second, as she pondered what emotion she was feeling now that they had reunited. Happiness? No... Relief? Her pride told her it couldn't possibly be that, but... even if they were enemies, it was good to see a familiar face.

“It’s good to see you again,” the hound commented, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. She frowned a bit at the strangeness, unsure of how to proceed. Taking a tentative step forward, moving completely out of the foliage, she looked his frail body over once more, frantic for some sort of response.

"...Is it?" she asked honestly, obviously uncertain. "Normally deserters don't cheer for joy when a desert-ee catches up with them..." She found herself pacing, circling around the houndoom. It wasn't in a threatening manner, or at least, it wasn't intended. But her feet needed to move. She eyed him a little more, words failing to make decent sentences. What was she supposed to say to him? Curse him? Kill him? Each option quickly fell by the wayside, her uncertainty grabbing its hold on her. Lacking anything else to say, she paused in her pacing and said, "...I'm surprised you haven't died yet." It was completely honest; what sort of animal could keep going on near starvation? But her tone came out as cold and monotone, lacking any sort of emotion. More confusion than anything. "...You know... with that thing on your face."

The Doctor’s snarling response came as unexpected to the legend, stinging that much more as the accusations flew. Whilst he directed his anger at Buck, Latias knew the words were just a befitting to her and couldn’t help but shrink back at the psychic’s intensity. Shame hit her first, but it was swiftly overpowered by her dangerous temper. Her emotions usually walked hand-in-hand these days, but the latter had become prone to trickery – anger would always stab someone in the back for his chance in the spotlight.

No. Latias reminded herself roughly, aware of the internal shift in her emotions. The Doctor was angry, but that didn’t mean she had to follow his example – regardless of how much her tainted blood begged. She would stay in control. Unaware that she was biting her lip, a thin line of blood starting to slither down her chin, Latias focused entirely on the abra. Perhaps it wasn’t the best decision, but what other distraction did she have?

Buck, apparently.

"Hey, fuck you!" The weavile was almost as riled as the Doctor himself, unleashing his temper to entice the virus even more. Latias couldn’t watch them. She was shaking, desperately trying to keep her composure whilst new demons were starting to stir inside her. Fight it! Are you weak? You’re NOT fucking weak. Now fight it!

I’m okay.

I’m okay.

It’s okay.

Her breathing steadied, mind calming as the Doctor spoke again, mainly to himself in voice softer than before but still obviously irate. She didn’t listen too much, catching the odd word to decipher the male’s overall intentions and settled with it. She couldn’t take anymore venom – even if it was warranted.

Latias instead looked to Buck, her face fatigued but calm. She managed a small, tired smile as she caught sight of his famous glower. From the start, she’d been a little too harsh on the guy – undeservedly so, she realized now – and was more than ever seeking a moment of redemption.
“You alri-“

A terrible screaming stopped her gentle query, ripping through her thoughts and sending her soft-beating heart into overdrive. The fear drained her with an intensity she’d only ever experienced once before.

Whipping around, Latias took in the sight of the Doctor curled up on the floor – agonizing screams turning into feral snarls.
“Doctor!” She approached on instinct, terrified at this strange behaviour but more so at the invisible pain that threatened him. She wanted to help, she had to help. But by the time she reached him, he was back on his feet with frantic eyes betraying his alarm.

"Y-y-you need t-to run..."
“What are you tal-“
"If you c-care at all about your life at all, y-you need to run. I d-don't care where you run, but you need to go as fast as you can, as far as you can." For once there was no anger. Latias felt only fear. She didn’t understand; in fact, she was scared to understand. But she simply couldn’t obey the abra’s orders.
“I’m not going anywhere,” She snapped defiantly, though her words were shaky. She wouldn’t abandon him, not in this condition – not ever.

But his eyes… The sight would haunt her.

"What are you waiting for, GO!”

It scared her into backing away some, the intensity of his gaze insisting that they were in real, mortal danger. But whilst the psychic continued to scream from afar – now levitating in the air – Latias remained rigidly in place. Despite her instincts telling her to heed the warning, to trust the abra she’d become so attached to, Latias refused to run. She wasn’t going to lose him,

Nothing could have prepared her for the arrival of what, simply put, was a monster.

The creature, the demon, that appeared was straight out of the legend’s nightmares – a distant relative of that gyarados.

Legendary…

“NO!” She screamed, face white and eyes wide as reality began to collapse around her. There was no Doctor here nor the demonic psychic that tortured him – only the memory of her brother’s brutal demise. It was played out before her in beautiful detail. The blood thicker, the cries louder, the smell… intoxicating. The scene shifted. Her body was slick with blood, the swirling darkness that surrounded her otherwise empty save the pool of gore in which she stood. Latios’ decapitated head lay in her claws, eyes staring out accusingly at their murderer.

Who are you? It demanded with the same cryptic question that plagued Latias’ troubled mind. She was screaming again, panicked as she tried to drop the taunting head only to find it had become a part of her. She would forever carry this burden. This guilt. There was no escape. She had done this.

She played gyarados’ role; she was her brother’s killer. She was becoming a monster and there was no way of escaping it, no denying it now. Why keep fighting? Why not embrace it?

Latias… You’re brilliant, and we need you… right now.

It plunged her back into reality with a desperate gasp for air. Released from her paralysis, the dragon was trembling as she fell to the ground, the mental exhaustion quick to spread to her body. Her eyes took a moment to adjust to the sight before her, fear striking her as she met the blood-red eyes of the alakazam.

"Now aren't you a prize to be found, Legend. I wasn't aware the traitor kept such company as you..."

Latias couldn’t speak. Her mouth was full of her own blood, lower lip still gushing, and yet it felt dry. She merely stared at him, caught in the headlights as she found herself in a state of déjà vu – a loved one lying bloody and broken on the ground, the murderer filling up and overwhelming her senses. She wore nothing on her face, no single emotion discernible, as she lost herself within the demon’s ensnaring eyes. The amber in her own eyes seemed to grow darker.

"Don't you d-dare. She's protected," The Doctor warned, a dark snarl plastered across his bloodied face. Latias broke her gaze from the harbinger, instead immersing herself in the sight of the Doctor. He stood before her protectively, unintentionally but mercifully obstructing her view of the devil himself. "This is your last warning, Alhoon. Leave now."
“Alhoon...” She whispered it to herself without intention, letting the name linger on her tongue until she finally tasted its poison. Her body repelled it as she vomited to the side, a putrid mix of blood and thick, black bile. It gave her a temporary sense of relief, purging all the evil that had been threatening what little she had left.

She knew now.

Latias. I AM Latias.

The abra presumed. OH How her presumed, telling the harbinger that the legend was... protected. [You must be registered and logged in to see this link.] The harbinger began to laugh. He laughed and laughed, his static shrouded voice echoing off the trees, the cliff faces. His body began to sag, torso distending and ripping apart from itself as the psionic field shuddered, Alhoon's concentration slipping. Limbs fell to the ground, joints disintegrating as the rot caught up with him. Before the legend, before the TRAITOR, where before there was an undead, now rested a pile of limbs, of organs and rot and black blood. And still it laughed, a wet, painful gurgling pulsing it's way out of the pile. The sound faded, and the gore was lit with a harsh red light before ripping itself back into shape.

[You must be registered and logged in to see this link.] The harbinger's eyes closed, his mind gazing through the untempered chaos of the legend's past, and following the shining thread of her fate into the future. [You must be registered and logged in to see this link.] He warped himself forward, and a hateful claw caressed Latias's cheek. To the Doctor, Alhoon continued. [You must be registered and logged in to see this link.] He fell backwards, and even as he emerged from the warp his hand was thrusting out, lifting the doctor by the throat.

[You must be registered and logged in to see this link.] His voice lowered, tortured vocal cords making a pained effort to speak clearly. [You must be registered and logged in to see this link.]

The harbinger tossed the doctor gently back to the ground, and knelt, awaiting the anguish that was sure to come.

[You must be registered and logged in to see this link.]

The Doctors' stomach threatened to hurl its' contents as the harbinger literally fell to pieces- a tar-like mess of organs and bone, all the time laughing. The Abras' ears flattened against his head as his jaw tightened and a disdainful snarl grew on his face. "Protected? You? You're protecting her!?" The eldritch mocked.

"Yes. I AM protecting her. And you know more than anyone what that means. I will protect her to my last breath, and at any cost." He hissed, his amethyst eyes narrowing as the Alakazam grew silent, seeking something mentally. The Doctors' gaze frantically went to the creature and then to Latias with dread.

"Oh, you poor, poor thing. Shackled as you are in this form, yet to reach your potential..." He finally said, phasing around the Doctor and to the avian legend.
What's he mean by that?!
The Doctor spun around, baring his teeth as one of the abominations' malnourished, clawed hands brushed against Latias' face.
"This... the creature before you is quite possibly the most important being in the whole of creation. And you're PROTECTING her? Like you protected the others, like you protected our village, or people. Like you protected ME!?" The Doctor cringed, taking a step back. Not only was the overwhelming rage pouring from the harbinger taking its' toll on the Abra, but the venomous, biting words that he spewed became too much for him.

His face grew hard with pained emotion, his brows furrowing with a dangerous twitch of his lip. "I had no choice! I saw what they all had become! What they were planning! They had to be stopped!" With a swift motion, he leaped at the monstrosity. But Alhoon warped and snatched the Doctor, lifting him up by the neck to dangle helplessly in his ever tightening grip.
"W̴h̶y̵ don'͞t̴ yo͞u ͜AS͜K͡ ̷H͜I͢M!̕?́ ҉H͠OW ̴M͜AN͏Y̷,̴ D͘O҉C̢T̴OR?͘! ̀HOW ḾA͞N͘Y ͘OF͠ Y͏OU̕R LOVÉD͟ ͝ONES HAVE ҉D͟I͡E̴D̵ B͞Y YO̷U͝R͟ HANDS҉?" The monster screamed in his face, tearing his hearts into pieces as he was assaulted mercilessly and with so much abandon.
No don't....please...please don't....No don't...!
"Tell her, Doctor. Tell her how many of your Companions have died to your own selfish needs?"

He let the smaller fox fall to the ground, the abra collapsing onto his knees in defeat. "I...I fought..." He gasped with an unfathomable sadness. Blood dripped from his chest and maw, staining his fur a dark and ugly red. His face carried the pain of a thousand broken souls. The agony and guilt of an entire world upon his shoulders. "I fought on the front lines..."

"I... Fought... I fought on the front lines..." The traitor's head was bowed, refusing to meet the eyes of any of those gathered.  [You must be registered and logged in to see this link.]  The harbinger's hands clenched, jagged nails digging into the flesh of his palms. A low pulsing was emanating out from him, a sickly four-count of psionic power. His head jerked upwards, and the abra was lifted, his arms spread to his sides as though he was to be crucified. [You must be registered and logged in to see this link.] The Doctor was jerked through the air, his face now inches from the cruel tendrils, already saturated in corrosive fluid. [You must be registered and logged in to see this link.] The abhorrent appendages flew, and a wet slap, and a low sizzle filled the air. [You must be registered and logged in to see this link.]  "I... I did what I had to do...."

[You must be registered and logged in to see this link.] His fist flew out again, impacting the crater of the Abra's armor. Alhoon leaned in, and whispered in the ear of the other, and in the mind of all nearby psionics...

[You must be registered and logged in to see this link.]

The harbinger let the abra sink to the ground, and fell back through the warp in silence.

"...Is it?"

Hannibal’s smile turned wicked at her tone. The formalities were over, apprehensive introductions forgotten, as Sil delved into the precarious territory of a shared past. He made no effort to disguise his delight at muted glimpse of the doe's temper, the way she circled him in need of an outlet for her frustration. Hannibal had almost forgotten how much he’d missed that look on her face. But it wasn’t quite the same. There was something new there. She seemed stronger; guarded and distanced from her old emotion.

"Normally deserters don't cheer for joy when a desert-ee catches up with them..."

He nodded his head sympathetically, quietly accepting his identity as not only a traitor, but a coward. It hadn't been his proudest moment, yet he'd never been one for chivalry either - it was survival of the fittest after all. He stood motionless as the Sawsbuck continued her quiet orbit, staring ahead as the silence droned on.
“You’re a long way from Lostlorn too,” He couldn't help it. He had intended to probe the matter at a later time, but the words had slipped like honey out of his mouth. He had to know what had happened. Why had Sil survived? Was she the only survivor?

The houndoom turned suddenly in one fluid movement to stand before the female, maroon eyes searching for answers within her own hardened orbs. He was greedy for the information, desperate to hear the confession of Sil's greatest sin. But she changed the topic, and feeling merciful, he permitted it.

"...I'm surprised you haven't died yet... You know... with that thing on your face."

The canine gave a soft, eloquent chuckle. The intensity of his gaze lost its power, distracted as he looked down at his bony limbs in confirmation - wondering when exactly his body had made the transition into something truly skeletal.
"I can assure you, it hasn't been easy," Hannibal smirked, weakly lifting his crushed forepaw up for inspection - a gift from Cassius. "These little mementos don't help either," His gaze reaffixed on her as he spoke, searching for a crack in her facade in which glimpse of guilt might flourish. He paused only a moment before continuing. "Still, I've had a change of fortune lately. I'm travelling with a group. We were split up, but I'm on their trail now as it may happen,”

"...Come with me, Sil," The demand was weakened, almost entirely overwhelmed by the strange tenderness in his voice. He was too proud to beg, but there was a real desperation struggling against the restraints he’d set up about himself.

Hannibal approached her, limp prominent, until he stopped directly before her, invading her personal space to stand at striking distance. Her throat was vulnerable, enticing; but he cared not to see it slashed. Instead he took a deep inhale, allowing the scent of this rare relic to fill his senses – fearing that he may find himself deprived of it once again. It was so much sweeter than before.
“You’d like them, you know,” His hummed finally, almost teasingly. “And regardless of whatever contempt you hold for me, surely you don’t want to throw away the opportunity to feel safe again? You don’t want to be alone, do you?”

(( Blergh, having a bit of writer’s block lately. This was stupidly hard to write and is still pretty crappy but I didn’t want to hold the team up any longer. Dx ))

A throaty chuckle was her initial reply from the lanky mutt as he cast a glance down at his own form. "I can assure you, it hasn't been easy," he mused, lifting his still fairly crushed paw. Sil's eyes flicked downward to it; she remembered the wound well-- a parting gift from Cassius. "These little mementos don't help either." His dangerous gaze returned to her own, the pause a sign that he was looking for something. A weakness? Likely. Sil met his gaze, face absent of remorse or frailty. If she had accomplished anything in his absence, she had at least put that day behind her, and he was not going to slither into a wound that easily.

He continued, seemingly satisfied. "Still, I've had a change of fortune lately. I'm travelling with a group. We were split up, but I'm on their trail now as it may happen.” The announcement took her a bit off guard; someone else had the stupidity to welcome him into a group? Her caution returned, her eyes scanning the path for a possible trap. It was unlikely, however; he had been genuinely shocked to see her...

"...Come with me, Sil," She turned back to him, eyes widened a little more in shock. She shouldn't have been surprised that he wanted her company, but his tone and the way he held his eyes... Sil wasn't entirely sure all of this was a part of his stupid manipulation games, and it was sending her anxiety through the roof. How had she forgotten he was so unpredictable...? Her eyes were glued to him, however, as he limped toward her, stopping only inches away from her now very vulnerable throat. Her feet stayed planted, though; she was unwilling to give him the satisfaction of even an inch.

“You’d like them, you know,” he sung to her, almost mockingly. Her eyes narrowed, but she stayed silent.  “And regardless of whatever contempt you hold for me, surely you don’t want to throw away the opportunity to feel safe again? You don’t want to be alone, do you?”


"...I've found being alone to be pretty beneficial, actually..." she finally responded, her voice guarded. She moved past him, casually, letting him know that his quiet displays of intimidation weren't tolerated. She paused a few feet away, staring down the path in the direction he was originally heading. What sort of people would allow him in his group, if he was even telling the truth? She dismissed the idea of a lie-- he was too good for lies.
He wouldn't lie. He loved smearing truth in your face, Sil. Truth, no one can run from... She sighed lightly. So he wasn't lying which brought her back to the initial question: what sort of people would allow him into their ranks?

She was naive and scared, and she honestly didn't know what he would do if she left him alone. It was better he be with their group than prowling freely in the shadows. Perhaps that was their mindset, whoever these pokemon were? It was possible... but she still had doubts. Still, even now, if she refused, what was stopping him from stalking and hunting her? She'd made the mistake of revealing herself-- what would stop him from chasing her? He'd already shown that the ties of camaraderie meant nothing to him. So... perhaps it was just easier to play along for now? She turned back to him, eyes searching his own for a moment before giving her reply.

"...Fine, Hannibal. But don't think that I'm coming with you out of fear." She stepped to the side, allowing him more space on the path, silently giving him the signal to lead the way.

Legends, what was she getting herself into...?

Latias watched in silent horror as the alakazam proceeded to deteriorate into a pool of gore – organs, limbs, rot and thick black blood encompassing the repulsive mass. She felt nauseous, entirely disgusted by the nightmarish display, but found herself unable to look away. The image burned itself into her retinas, accompanying several other demons from her past. This creature joined their ranks to reign as supreme ruler.

"Yes. I AM protecting her. And you know more than anyone what that means. I will protect her to my last breath, and at any cost."
"Protected? You? You're protecting her!?” The gore continued to laugh, continued to argue the Doctor’s chivalry. Latias cringed away from it, hyperventilating as Gyarados slithered into her periphery. Before she had chance to react to the hallucination, the alakazam was in her face. “Oh, you poor, poor thing. Shackled as you are in this form, yet to reach your potential..." He cooed to her, a rotten hand caressing her face as she found herself frozen in fear. She held her breath, drawn into his fearsome gaze even as he started condemning her snarling savior.

"This... the creature before you is quite possibly the most important being in the whole of creation. And you're PROTECTING her? Like you protected the others, like you protected our village, or people. Like you protected ME!?"

She heard his words with a new clarity, confusion arising from talk of her ‘importance’. She didn’t understand; she doubted her mind could even begin to comprehend this riddle when fear was disabling the rest of her so effortlessly. But Latias listened, absorbing this monster’s speech and the rage, all the accusations that he bestowed upon the Doctor.

"I had no choice! I saw what they all had become! What they were planning! They had to be stopped!" He defended himself, leaping at Alhoon with a ferocity she had not yet witnessed. But the abra was caught mid-air, a crushing grip at his throat as he hung helpless above her – the demon still screaming.
"W̴h̶y̵ don'͞t̴ yo͞u ͜AS͜K͡ ̷H͜I͢M!̕?́ ҉H͠OW ̴M͜AN͏Y̷,̴ D͘O҉C̢T̴OR?͘! ̀HOW ḾA͞N͘Y ͘OF͠ Y͏OU̕R LOVÉD͟ ͝ONES HAVE ҉D͟I͡E̴D̵ B͞Y YO̷U͝R͟ HANDS҉?"
“…What?” She gasped quietly, her voice stolen as she processed what exactly Alhoon was saying. No, she argued with herself, reminding herself of who this terrible information was coming from. She couldn’t trust that thing, that monster. But his anger, it was so real. No. You know the Doctor. He couldn’t… He wouldn’t – he would never…

"Tell her, Doctor. Tell her how many of your Companions have died to your own selfish needs?" She looked desperately to the psychic as he fell to the ground, unable to trust her own judgement on the matter. This all seemed to surreal – more suited to something of her own twisted imagining than a piece of deadly reality.
"I...I fought... I fought on the front lines...” She barely heard the abra’s reply, the blood dripping from his face entrancing the legendary. It was hypnotic, the soft, regular splash that marred the ground. It was almost soothing. Soothing until Alhoon screamed once more.

"You FOUGHT! YOU FOUGHT ON THE WRONG SIDE!" The abhorrent appendages flew, and a wet slap, and a low sizzle filled the air. "You killed us, Doctor. You damned us all, your family, your friends, those who trusted you,”

She saw the confrontation too late, frazzled mind unable to keep up with the vicious speed of this strange reality. The Doctor was in the air again, repeatedly punched as the harbinger continued its fearsome condemnation of a creature she thought she knew. She stared open-mouthed, tears stinging her eyes as the sight struck her straight to her core. Latias didn’t understand, she didn’t want to understand.

It’s not happening.

It’s not real.

She slammed her eyes tight, cowering as she dug sharp claws into her head in a vain bid to silence the havoc – internal and external alike as they collided once more. Those demons all flew around in the darkness, splashes of blood highlighting the fast-morphing shape of gyarados. He became Alhoon, he became Latios; he became the Doctor – no, not the Doctor, rather some deadly reincarnation of a creature she loved.

The chaos - the dizzying blur of her mind’s impending collapse - suddenly stilled. And from the darkness, there was a blackened silhouette of someone familiar. Someone like her, but powerful, all-seeing and inherently sinister. A one-eyed reflection that was beckoning her past the point of no return.

She escaped the clutches of this illusion with an almighty gasp, eyes wide as she madly scanned a now chillingly-quiet battlefield.

Alhoon was gone.

The Doctor lay crumpled on the ground.

“Doctor!” Latias’ breathless cry pierced the silence, as she forced herself shakily into an upright position. Ignoring her own incredible exhaustion and the warning bells that the harbinger had willed into existence, she sped to the abra’s side, terrified but determined. Yet when she reached out to him, she stopped – claw left hovering cautiously over his shoulder. It wasn’t the suddenly intoxicating smell of his blood that stopped her; it wasn’t the fear of meeting his broken eyes...

She heard his words, a chilling warning echo once more.

You killed us, Doctor. You damned us all, your family, your friends, those who trusted you.

"...D-Doctor?

It was always the count of four.
1.2.3.4.
1.2.3.4.
While his own dual heartbeat fell out of pulse with the deadly psychic, holding him stiffly in the air without effort. 
The Doctor would have wept if he wasn't already in so much agony. The ferocious face in his mind, laughing maniacally, always accompanied by the maddening beat of the drums.
Always by the count of four.
Always screaming at him in a righteous wrath. 
THM-THM-THM-THM!
THM-THM-THM-THM!
THM-THM-THM-THM!
THM-THM-THM-THM!

And yet, more was to come. 
His slender form was ripped from the ground, his arms spread outward and held there, as he was placed under the heavy hammer of judgment of the remainder of his kind. The Doctor didn't struggle; he knew this was deserved. He knew that someday, he would be caught. He was the genocide. He was the oncoming storm. 

He was the Doctor. 

THM-THM-THM-THM!
THM-THM-THM-THM!

"You FOUGHT! YOU FOUGHT ON THE WRONG SIDE!" His judge raged, his acid-laced appendages slapped across his maw with the equally biting words. The Doctor cried out in pain, the corrosive material eating into his face with a vicious burn. He screamed, even as the creature continued to lay down his judgment. 
"You killed us, Doctor. You damned us all, your family, your friends, those who trusted you."
"I... I did what I had to do...." He stammered weakly against the pain, the smell of his own flesh burning filling his nostrils. 
THM-THM-THM-THM!
THM-THM-THM-THM!

"You did what you had to? Is that why you led the humans against us? Is that why you, Oh Medicine man of the Apocalypse, Genocide of the Hospital, let us all be SLAUGHTERED?"
His left heart faltered as it was slammed and crushed once more by the raging fist of the mad creature before him. His armor was barely able to withhold another attack; if his heart were to be attacked once more...well, he knew he would be through. But what did it matter? This monstrosity before him was his judge. He deserved all this pain and more. But only a single message was left for him, as the eldritch whispered to him in his ear and mind, never again to be forgotten.

Remember, Doctor. Remember who you are. You are no healer, but a butcher. You are no savior, but the horseman come to reap. Remember Doctor, now and always... You are the Destroyer of Worlds...
As the thing that was once a Time Lord disappeared into the void, he allowed the Abra to sink onto his knees, where he collapsed onto the ground, broken and helpless.
THM-THM-THM-THM!
THM-THM-THM-THM!

"Doctor!" He heard from behind him, the companion he swore to protect flying to his side, but...hesitating. The foxes' body was wracked with pain, but the anguish of feeling distrust in her aura ripped him apart. Her confusion and insanity. 
THM-THM-THM-THM!
THM-THM-THM-THM!
THM-THM-THM-THM!

She was appalled at the accusation that had flown, he knew that. 
Who wouldn't. 

It's all true. I am all those things. I don't deserve you, or anyone else. I kill all that I touch. I deserve worse than death, yet it follows me without touching my own tattered hearts. He thought emptily, flinching away from her uncertain claw and balled himself up tightly with the pain of her doubt in him, a fresh wound upon his beaten hearts. 
I'm so old....too old. 
THM-THM-THM-THM!
I've lived much too long...
THM-THM-THM-THM!
We all did...

"...D-Doctor?"
THM-THM-THM-THM...
thm-thm-thm-thm....

Lat...Please...

((Skip please. I don't feel well, I'm in no mood to post and I don't even know what to put anyway. My boys aren't up to much.))

"...I've found being alone to be pretty beneficial, actually..."

Hannibal hid the disappointment well, ignoring the slight drop of his stomach at her response. It was a sensation foreign to the hound, one he neither appreciated nor truly understood. Still, her response, though somewhat dismissive wasn’t a direct ‘no’…

He watched her carefully in the moment of silence that followed, struggling to read the features that had once been so open. The old Sil had practically welcomed him into her head, now there were looming, steel parameters blocking his access. She was almost unreadable, a blank canvas and he was unsure whether he missed its colours or not. It was unfitting, but perhaps that was only because it was so new. Hannibal was sure he could grow to appreciate this masterpiece in due course.

"...Fine, Hannibal.” It was music to his ears. “But don't think that I'm coming with you out of fear."

He flashed a quick triumphant smirk, allowing himself a flitting moment of self-congratulations before wiping his face clean. The houndoom kept his satisfaction muted, dipping his head lightly out of respect for her justification.
“Of course not,” He agreed, removing the scepticism in his mind from his tone. He wasn’t entirely convinced, but she had been doing such an exceptional job at persuading him otherwise that he let the matter slide.

As she stepped back, motioning him to lead on, Hannibal took his cue. He slipped past with an almost feline grace marred only by the stagger of his limp. He’d made the transition to hobble on three legs again, the numbing abilities of the berries having finally worn off to welcome back the pain. He would have to look out for more on the route back. To further distract himself, he sought out idle conversation.
“Oh,” He started, slowing his pace to walk alongside the sawsbuck. “I must warn you, they are a rather… interesting bunch – as charming as they are. You’ve heard of the legendary Latias, no? Turns out she’s a little volatile,” He grinned inwardly at the private joke. Volatile’s one word for her specific ailment. “Then we have a delightful weavile, a young water-type, a rather glum ninetales, a human,” Instinct made it mandatory to speak the word with quiet detest. “His pet and a funny-little abra that calls himself ‘The Doctor’,”

Hannibal gave an amused chortle as he finished the rundown of the oddball group. Hearing it out loud only strengthened the peculiar nature of his chosen company, reminding him of exactly where his life had gone. Still, they were entertainment enough and Sil would undoubtedly realize that in due time.
“I realize I must not be selling this to you,” He mused half-apologetically, pausing to momentarily scent the ground once more. They had passed another few droplets of the legend’s blood and her scent was growing stronger with each step, but something else was tingeing the air – decay and the unmistakable smell of blood, and a lot of it.

His brow furrowed slightly as he stared ahead, blind as the awaiting chaos lay hidden behind a veil of shrubbery. The canine looked to Sil, wondering whether her own senses were quite as acute. Not wanting to trigger his companion’s premature departure in the event that she remained oblivious to this unseen slaughter, Hannibal kept his mouth shut as he continued onwards towards Violet City, alert and falling into silence.

“Of course not,” Hannibal beamed, earning a small sigh from Sil. She shouldn't be surprised that he'd be happy in his victory, but it was still angering to see she had pleased him. The sawsbuck allowed a petty frown cross her features as she followed the lanky hound, eyes cast down to his very prominent limp. That had to hurt... and as far as she could tell, it was a long way from Unova. Probably. So how he'd managed to walk all that way with such a injury...

But his pace slowed to match hers, to which she greeted him with a raised brow. “Oh,” he began, apparently wishing to engage in conversation while they walked, (again, she really should have expected it) “I must warn you, they are a rather… interesting bunch – as charming as they are. You’ve heard of the legendary Latias, no? Turns out she’s a little volatile.” Though he seemed pleased at the apparent joke, Sil remained a bit confused. She hadn't heard of Latias, no, but the fact that he'd actually found a Legend was astounding. “Then we have a delightful weavile, a young water-type, a rather glum ninetales, a human,” He emphasized a bit of loathing on the word, causing Sil's expression to continue, “His pet and a funny-little abra that calls himself ‘The Doctor’.” He chuckled to himself, apparently pleased with his synopsis, even if it left Sil wondering more than a few things. She remained quiet, however, silently enjoying the fact that she was finally listening to something else other than her own voice and the eerie quiet of the world.

“I realize I must not be selling this to you,” he chuckled after a moment, earning a small smirk from Sil.

"Not really, no," she mused back, glad that even though it was coming from Hannibal, she was finally finding some humor in the world. How she'd missed laughing... But as they paused for what she could only guess was a check for direction, she felt a change in Hannibal as he sniffed along the path. Watching carefully, they exchanged a look, one she wasn't sure of its meaning, and Hannibal continued.

Alarmed, Sil followed Hannibal, eyes flicking toward every suspicious shadow and noise. The air thickened with blood with each step they took, causing her hackles to stand on end. She leaned in, keeping her voice low as she spoke. "...Are we in danger?" she asked, but not fearfully. She simply wanted to be prepared in case Hannibal's newfound "friends" were suddenly caught with a case of the "Dead"s.

It's all true.

Latias felt her stomach drop at his confession, unable to mask the temporary disgust that overcame her features.  She wanted to hide it, but she simply lacked the energy to do so. She couldn’t pretend anymore. She was drained, thoroughly exhausted both mentally and physically and now this emotional attack was threatening to deliver the final blow.

I am all those things. I don't deserve you, or anyone else. I kill all that I touch. She flinched away from his heart-breaking words as if struck, unable to meet his eyes as she found herself subconsciously moving away from him. It wasn’t quite fear that pushed her away, it was disappointment. Why are you saying this? Lie to me. Why can’t you just lie? It was a selfish desire, possibly a life-threatening one too – put she didn’t want to hear it. She wanted him to tell her that those accusations were simply the ravings of a madman. She’d accept it unquestioningly.

I deserve worse than death, yet it follows me without touching my own tattered hearts.

The sight of him curling in on himself, blood-soaked and beaten was too much for the legendary to take. Latias took a deep breath, unaware that she was trembling. She looked desperately to Buck, still unmoving from his tree-top perch as if he could magic the answer to her. But he didn’t know. He hadn’t heard the confirmation of the demon’s accusations as cold, hard truth. The Doctor was a murderer…. A traitor… He’d only hurt her….

Lat...Please...

Despite every fibre in her body urging her to walk away, Latias moved closer – quickly filling the space between them. She defied her instincts and reached out to him, cautiously at first as a clawed paw gently made contact with the male’s back. The warmth reminded her of who she was dealing with; this wasn’t some wicked embodiment on evil, this was the Doctor. A funny little Abra that she loved.

She wouldn’t abandon him.

The warmth rising in her chest persuaded her that she was doing the right thing. Maybe it was stupid – something told her she’d regret this – but at this moment, she didn’t care. Ever since Latios’ death, she had felt nothing but sorrow; often anger, sometimes guilt but always an unbearable sadness. The Doctor alleviated this. He made her see something more in the world, and even if it was all built on a legacy of lies, Latias couldn’t bear to travel back into that abyssal darkness alone, again. She wouldn’t be able to escape it a second time. He had become the light, her light.

I forgive you.

She embraced him a gentle hug, slender arms wrapped around his hunched form with no regard for his reaction. He could bite and claw at her – she wouldn’t feel it. He could protest, scream hate until his voice was hoarse, but she refused to hear. She would simply hold him tighter, beckoning their two wounded souls to become one. Perhaps they’d heal each other.

Doctor, I don’t care. She finally whispered to him telepathically, voice tender. I don’t care about what you’ve done. I don’t care about who you used to be. You’re not him anymore. She moved to hold him at arm’s length, finally summoning the courage to meet those powerful eyes of his. A small smile momentarily wavered on her lips, a quiver that shielded the emotion trying to break free. I can forgive it all. Just stay… Stay with me.

(Fox, if there's any issue with the hug do let me know.)

The inferno that was once his home burned before his eyes. The searing heat, the roaring flames, the screams of those doomed to be turnt to ashes before him. His hearts burned with agony as he tore it all down with the humans. He didn't warn his family, or any one of the 'friends' he had made in his clan. He didn't even warn the children. He didn't warn them about the army of humans that would lay waste to the corruption that was Gallifrey with a zealous vengeance.
No, he was not one of the brainwashed. He was not their warrior, nor their mage. He had seen what Gallifrey had done to every one of their own people. To the humans. To him. To the one he loved, now lost forever.

Tears streamed down his face as he relived the fall of the once-great civilization, even as he felt a warm paw against his beaten back. The small fox flinched at the touch, expecting further judgment. But that never came as he waited for screaming, accusations, condemnation. His shoulders lowered as he turned his head ever so slightly, gazing back at his companion with the purest of pain turning his tear-filled eyes a vibrant purple. But what came next is not what he was expecting. With a gentle touch, the legendary embraced his slender form, her arms wrapping around him with sincerity. His breath hitched in his throat as he felt her warmth around him, surrounding him with a tender flow of pale blue aura.

I forgive you.

The Doctor bit his lip, trembling in her arms as he let himself go and wept without a voice. He pulled her arms closer, holding her paws tightly against him, as if he was afraid she would just disappear. Blood dripped from his chestplate and maw, mingling with the tears that just wouldn't stop. His whole body screamed with pain, but he didn't care. In this moment, nothing could take this small amount of grace away from him.

Doctor, I don’t care. She finally whispered to him telepathically, voice tender. I don’t care about what you’ve done. I don’t care about who you used to be. You’re not him anymore. She said, pulling back and gently turning him around. His amethyst eyes were wrought with pain, and his lips lay parted in awe of her. He soaked up the warmth of her aura, the solidity of her touch around his thin shoulders. She gazed at him with a smile wavering on her lips, her golden eyes bright and filled with kindness.

I can forgive it all. Just stay… Stay with me.

The fox gazed into her eyes, realizing that the drumbeat had disappeared with her touch. He thought long on her words, losing himself in the sanctuary of her. You are my golden skies, my crimson fields...he said quietly, his aura burning an identical hue of pale blue.
After a slow, deep breath, a tired smile graced his lips. Not breaking their gaze, he nodded.

"...I can do that."

(ok, his next turn, he'll guide them to a house so they can all rest if rp allows (latxdoc otp 5ever))

Bored.

This had been a stupid idea. Since when was 'resting' and 'recuperating' suddenly on Garth's to-do list? He only ever slept when he was close to collapse from exhaustion, preferring to keep himself fueled with blood and guts until his body simply said "NO" and forced him to drop down to sleep. He hadn't had much of that for a few hours; his brutal killing of Clyde and the nameless Houndoom before him had been enough to keep his new cravings mostly at bay. Or, at least, not bad enough for him to lose control.

He wasn't tired, he realised, as he lay on his belly on a branch with all four of his limbs dangling below him. He was just bored as fuck.

With a groan, Garth sat up and squinted through the leaves at the setting sun. He shuffled further up towards the end where there was more sun, closing his eyes and enjoying the soft warmth of the golden rays as they embraced his skin. He wondered how much longer he had to be able to enjoy little moments like this, and with a jolt he sprang to his feet, reminded that he had a time limit.

He had licked his lips until they were dry; until the very last trace of the taste of Latias's blood had gone. If his time ran out before he got to taste it again ... Garth couldn't bear it. He had a reputation, a position of power to build before he became just another mindless zombie.

He slithered further up the tree to the highest branch he could, his eyes latching on the distant rooftops. If he could get to Violet City before the others, undetected, he could wait for them there and track their movements easier. Screw whatever Hannibal had told him to do; Garth made his own rules.

Pressing his snout into the sunlight for another few seconds, Garth sighed and started his journey.

---

It was over remarkably quickly. Buck opened his eyes and looked down as the monstrous Alakazam disappeared, leaving all three of them in a silence so deep it was unnerving. Buck had tried hard not to listen to what was going on, but he had picked up on one or two bits of information that he'd rather not have known.

Died.
Selfish needs.
Humans.
Slaughter.

It looked as though the Doctor had some secrets.

Buck scowled and clutched at the bark, watching Latias as she rushed over to him. He hissed softly, baring his little fangs. If what that Alakazam said was true - that he was a traitor and a liar and a murderer, why was she picking him up and embracing him? Buck tightened his grip on the bark so hard that it broke off into his hands with a snap. If he had a reason for distrusting that guy, this was it.

Yet as he watched them hug without a word - none that he could hear anyway - Buck felt strangely sorry for him. Clearly he regretted whatever he did by the way he just hung limply in Latias's arms and let himself be hugged. Either that or it was-- no. Buck pushed away his negativity. Something was happening down there between those two, something deep. Something that his grumpy, one-track mind could probably never comprehend.

Wouldn't be surprised if they've forgotten about me, Buck thought as he climbed down from the tree just as they parted and the Doctor said, "I can do that."

"Do what?" Buck tugged on his earring, suddenly feeling uncomfortable that he was even around. He was pretty sure that these two didn't really want him around during their little private exchange, but he didn't care. "Look, I'm not sure what the hell just happened or what that creepy guy was talking about and, frankly, I'm not going to ask." He shot the Doctor a suspicious glare. "But I'm not hanging around this place a minute longer. I'm going to the city to find shelter. You two either come with me or ... I dunno, keep going whatever you were doing then. I don't care."

He stalked off, pulling on his ear so hard that it started to hurt. Was he mad? Was he about to let himself into a building with someone like that?

"...Are we in danger?"

Hannibal had masked his quiet concern as best he could, but there was no changing the wind’s direction and the growing scent of blood on the air. She was bound to notice eventually. He’d been foolish to think he could deceive her for long. But when Sil spoke, there was no fear in her voice. The Houndoom turned, again searching her features for betrayal of an underlying concern. But it simply wasn’t there. She was impenetrable now. He admired that.

“Maybe,” Hannibal eventually muttered, unsure himself of what lurked around the bend. Any sane creature might have considered an alternative route, deterred by the warnings nature threw their way – but nothing could overcome the strength of Hannibal’s twisted curiosity. He had picked up the Doctor’s scent in the mix. Was he dead? Infected? Wounded? The possibilities all sounded so morbidly delightful; Hannibal had to know.

A few more moments of silence and he got his answer.

The Houndoom stopped a distance from the scene, maroon eyes hungrily eating up every detail set out before him like an exquisite platter. It was the group, though vastly diminished since he’d last seen them. Splashes of blood and bile framed the gathering – its focal point the embrace between Latias and a battered-looking Doctor. Just wounded then. Though he saw this as the most disappointing outcome, even from a distance Hannibal could see that the psychic was pretty beat-up. It was good enough. However, his attacker seemed oddly absent. Buck was at the side-lines but he’d never seemed the type to leap into savagery. Still, Hannibal kept an open mind. He’d been surprised before.

The canine was visibly relaxed as he turned to Sil, a wicked smile lingering behind the muzzle.
“Welcome to the family, Sil,” He purred before hobbling towards the remaining trio. He had questions – specifically concerning the whereabouts of that miserable speck of a human – but common courtesy insisted he first explore what had happened here. Part of him wondered whether Garth was the culprit. He wouldn’t have been surprised if the unstable lizard had taken matters into his own claws, unable to deny the virus’ demands any longer and launched a desperate attack. But, something told him otherwise. No, he’d missed something big.

Not trusting himself to say the appropriate thing – the flooding pain from old wounds working to upset his charming façade – he merely stood watching the trio, a genuine confusion creasing his brow.

(( Mehh short, sorry guys. But yay, we’re reunited. :D ))

“Maybe,” was Hannibal's low reply, which, for obvious reasons, didn't bolster Sil's confidence in her choice to follow the emaciated hound. Still, she was here now, and there was little now to do about it. Scanning their surroundings still, frustrated that her nose was already saturated with the stench of blood, she continued carefully behind Hannibal. He was her best bet at this point, whether she liked it or not.

They continued silently for a moment, stopping once a strange scene came into view: Three figures, one practically swimming around in blood and... other things, another nearby and the third on the outskirts of the scene entirely. She glanced, confused toward Hannibal, but quickly looked back to the scene. Well... apparently they'd missed some sort of party. Though she didn't know the species of two of the pokemon, the red one made her on edge, as if there was something strange about it. Not necessarily bad but... definitely not normal. Hannibal turned to her, frame now relaxed. “Welcome to the family, Sil.”

Sil stared a moment at him as he continued toward the others, her confusion and slight disbelief apparent on her face. "Yeah..." She muttered as she followed him. "Let me find a container for my joy..." While she found the situation pretty... odd... she felt assured that if Hannibal knew what was going on, he would tell her. There was no reason for him not to. So... perhaps he was just as confused as she was? Still, at least he was a part of this... group. Sil felt her anxiety flare as she realized she had no idea how to talk to these people, especially since they seemed to have gone through something at least fairly traumatic.

Swallowing a lump that was already beginning to take root in her throat, she simply stayed by Hannibal's side, unsure of what to do as well. Her eyes darted from pokemon to pokemon to pokemon, one after the other. Upon closer inspection, the smallest one seemed to be the most battered. She'd seen his kind before in this particular region, but failed to ever learn the species name. The red one near him was the one that gave her the strange vibe, and now that she was closer, the feeling was much stronger. Just what was this pokemon? And then the last one... a weavile. Her eyes narrowed at the thought of the last weavile she'd encountered... and fled. Should this one give her any trouble, she would make sure she wouldn't make that mistake again.

Still, first things first. Blinking, glancing to Hannibal for some sort of cue, she was a bit disappointed when he just stared at everyone, proving her theory from earlier. Yep. He didn't know what the fuck was going on either. Before she had a chance to try and think on what to say, an awkward "Hi," blurted out like some sort of horrible word-belch. Her anxiety rocketed, sending it straight to the stars. Awesome. That was... fantastic. She bit her tongue slightly to prevent any more words from puking themselves out of her face lest she say something truly awful like "How are you all doing?". Doing her best not to plant her face straight into the ground, she simply stood there, perfectly still. Maybe if she didn't move, they wouldn't see her anymore.

You are my golden skies, my crimson fields…

She was momentarily lost in his eyes, mesmerised by the sheen of fresh tears making those orbs glisten. Latias felt safe within them, perfectly content to waste away into nothingness in the knowledge that she felt every silent word in that gaze. She felt weightless, a deviant to the harshness of reality as her expression broke into a glorious smile epitomizing the love that swelled within her chest.

"...I can do that."

Thank you.

There was nothing more left to say. Latias was happy, content to start afresh with The Doctor in a place where the demons of their past couldn’t reach them. She would leave them all behind. The Honchkrow, Latios, Gyarados, the Legends – they could fade into the darkness that spawned them. She would break free from their clutches to live happily, normally in the short expanse of time she had left; the Doctor at her side, an eternal warmth for when her blood would inevitably turn cold.

"Do what?"

Latias visibly jumped at the sudden question from Buck; touch instantaneously recoiling from the Doctor as she was roughly reminded that they had a spectator. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, thankful at least the tenderness of the moment was reserved for two souls only. It was a sentimentality she usually strived to conceal, but in light of Alhoon’s arrival Latias had decided there would be no more secrets now. No more denying, no more hiding.

"Look, I'm not sure what the hell just happened or what that creepy guy was talking about and, frankly, I'm not going to ask. But I'm not hanging around this place a minute longer. I'm going to the city to find shelter. You two either come with me or ... I dunno, keep going whatever you were doing then. I don't care."

That same sense of guilt came crawling back to the enlightened dragon as Buck spoke. As often as they’d clashed, Latias had come to admire the Weavile a lot more than she might admit. He wasn’t a coward – he was simply rational and she understood that now. He was a survivor and no matter how she tried, she could find no reason to despise such a remarkable specimen. Hearing his alienation stung more than he could possibly know.

“Buck!” She automatically called out to him as he turned whilst tugging irritably on his ear. “Please, wait,” Her voice was still shaky with emotion – an emotion she was now extending to a creature she was proud to call her friend. “We’re still coming with you. I’ll explain ev-“

She stopped herself as she caught movement in her periphery, two approaching figures playing witness to the scene. She snapped around to face them, a momentary wildness in her eyes that faded only as her mind processed the familiarity of one of the new arrivals.
“Hannibal?” They’d lost the emaciated hound back when she and Buck had been scouting for shelter, but his disappearance had never truly struck her. The amnesia was clearly worsening. Another pang of guilt made itself known.

In the short amount of time she’d known the Houndoom, he’d been nothing but polite. Quiet and perhaps a little ominous-looking with that contraption of his face, but nothing that deterred her opinion of him too drastically. It was good to see him alive. Perhaps the others are okay too...

"Hi,"

The Sawsbuck that accompanied Hannibal was a stranger, but with her awkward greeting Latias felt no reason for alarm. Part of her found it hilarious but she couldn’t embrace the frivolity with Alhoon’s attack still fresh in her mind. She stood in a bloodbath of his creation. This was not a place for laughter.
“Hi,” She repeated half-uneasily, though there was a very subtle touch of amusement in her tone. Her eyes scanned the doe for any indication of infection – bite wounds, discolouration, anything that resembled the ugly mark on the back of Latias’ own neck – and was pleased to find her in good health. She rewarded her with a small, flitting smile of approval. ”There’ll be time for introductions when we find shelter. Right now, we need to start moving,”

She turned to the Doctor, features softening with concern as she took in the sight of his bloodied body. ”Are you okay to walk?”

"Do what?"

With the sudden intrusion, Latias jumped, suddenly blushing with embarrassment. But the Doctor didn't mind. The Abra merely sighed as the rude thing continued. But anxiety constricted his chest as Buck left his spectator spot from the tree and stomped towards them with a critical and judging gaze. The Doctor clenched his jaws together, his battered body straightening as he awaited the inevitable.

"Look, I'm not sure what the hell just happened or what that creepy guy was talking about and, frankly, I'm not going to ask. But I'm not hanging around this place a minute longer. I'm going to the city to find shelter. You two either come with me or ... I dunno, keep doing whatever you were doing then. I don't care." As he passed the two of them, Latias reached out to the coward, begging for him to wait for them.  A heavy, creeping guilt slithered into the pit of his stomach as he watched him stomp by, knowing the forgiveness that Latias offered was undeserved. She should have rejected him completely. She should have beat him further, until he was an unrecognizable mess. But she didn't and that wasn't something he could quite comprehend or accept. He gazed at her with a pained look plastered across his face, unable to hide his self-loathing and confusion.

She doesn't know who I am...
She said that I am not the one who committed those atrocities, all those years ago...
That I've changed since then...

...But she's wrong.

If I've changed, I've changed for the worse. I'm a murderer...worse than.
I make people kill for me. I make them die for me. There's not a name for what I am...

The Doctor cringed as his body cried out in protest. He took a slow breath, half-relishing the sharp stabs going up and down his spine; the pain that shot through his chest from just breathing, the burning slashes across his maw, the coppery blood filling his mouth. His body slumped against a nearby tree, but stiffened as he saw and felt the aura that filled him with dread.

Hannibal.

The Abra closed his eyes, quickly scanning near the canine for the others, only coming back with nothing but a new, cautious creature. His hearts sank as he lowered his head.
I just want to die.
Please just let me die already...
He should have finished his work...
The battered fox slid down to the roots of the tree, his breath shallow and slow. Slipping in and out of consciousness, he was only able to catch bits and pieces of what was being said.
”...There’ll be time for introductions when we find shelter. Right now, we need to start moving,”
His head snapped up as he felt emotions directed towards him. He struggled to open his eyes, his lids heavy as bricks.

”Are you okay to walk?” the legendary asked, her concern warming him, despite the pain he was in.
I don't deserve it, stop...
He managed a half-hearted smile, digging his claws into the bark as he pulled himself back up.
"'Course!...it's not so bad...!" He lied through clenched teeth. "R-ready...when you are..."

(If Buck wants to lead the way to a safe building, feel free dear. Better idea, considering the Docs' condition)