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(ELITE) The FALLARBOR Team

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Abysswalker
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Re: (ELITE) The FALLARBOR Team

Post by Abysswalker on Thu Jul 23, 2015 4:22 am

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Route 113 | Late Morning
[1]
(Both)

Route 113. It was just as dreary and covered in ash as ever. Chris remembers traveling through this place as a kid, seeing the countless Spinda and even an elusive Skarmory flying through the skies. Now there was nothing; no wild Pokemon, no other people, only volcanic ash. As Chris carefully inches his way around one of the ledges, he reflects on the fact that Fallarbor will be just as dead as this route. Stannis had to believe that too. The Sawsbuck was stoic and unreadable, which was the usual, but Chris knows even he cannot possibly believe anything was left in such a small and easily forgotten place. Hell, there'd barely been anything even before the epidemic had rolled around other than a couple of houses and some scientists.

"Careful, Chris, watch your step," Stannis warns, keeping close to his trainer. Chris is not one known for avoiding risks, and with all these ledges around, he was liable to break a leg or even his neck. With an irritated glance at his Sawsbuck, Chris makes a short jump from the ledge to the ash-covered grass, not even losing his balance in the process...or caring about what could've happened had he slammed his head against the rocks. Risk simply didn't register with him, something Stannis had had years to figure out, but thankfully his trainer hadn't hurt himself.
"I know what I'm doing," Chris retorts, earning only an exasperated sigh from Stannis. When he was in one of his stubborn moods, Chris was absolutely impossible, almost as if he thought nothing could harm him. If only that were true, Stannis thought to himself.
They continue trudging through the volcanic ash, passing by places trainers had once stood to converse with passerby. Chris only has vague recollections of this area, and Stannis no memories at all, but the path is simple enough.

There is the sound of wings flapping, and Chris looks to the sky to see his Archeops, Cormag, descending towards him. A look of excitement is all too obvious on the bird's face; Chris can only wonder what has gotten him so riled up. While Cormag was easily amused, there wasn't exactly a whole lot out here that was even remotely interesting.
"Ey! Chris, Stannis, we got us a strangah, walkin' tis way." The Archeops grins, his eyes practically sparkling, way too happy for his own good. "Couldn't see 'is 'mons, but from what I saw, 'hey ain't got much of 'em." Chris feels his hands clench, fingernails digging into his palm. There wasn't supposed to be anyone around here, yet Cormag was too bouncy to simply be pulling a prank. He meets Stannis' gaze, and gives a slight nod. Whoever this stranger was, they had to make sure they weren't a threat, or part of a bigger group. That was unlikely, but as Stannis so loved to say, it was better not to take chances.

"Show me where they are, Cormag," Chris tells his Archeops, and the Flying-type is more than happy to oblige, still wearing the same grin from before. While Cormag was able to fly above the ashy grass, Chris and Stannis weren't so lucky; their progress was considerably slower compared to the Archeops, but eventually he stopped them from going any further.
"There 'hey is," Cormag whispers to Chris, whose eyes narrows as he looks at the stranger that had just appeared in his view. He looks...familiar. Almost like..."What in the goddamn?"
No fucking way. That couldn't be him. The apocalypse didn't just grant favors like that, yet who else could it possibly be? Forgetting all caution, Chris began to move right to where the "stranger" could see him, ignoring Stannis' protests as he did so. It was absolutely unbelievable. Of all the places in Hoenn, it had to be Fallarbor, the ass-end of nowhere; Fortree would have at least made some sense. Un-fucking-believable.

"Vincent Sage?"


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Re: (ELITE) The FALLARBOR Team

Post by Abysswalker on Mon Jul 27, 2015 7:54 pm

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Route 113 | Late Morning
[2]
(Both)

Chris stands there awkwardly, waiting for Vincent to stop gaping at him and respond. He wasn't exactly a conspicuous person, how the hell did Vince not recognise him? Four years since the world ended and Chris has ceased to exist in his mind; that was just fantastic. Well, hopefully Vince hadn't forgotten his name, or else things would be even more difficult, and aggravating.
Stannis has finally caught up to him, and the Sawsbuck can see that Chris has startled the other human with his reckless action. If it was Vincent Sage, the boy really should have known better than to run up to him with no warning whatsoever. He could have been shot if it had been someone hostile, and it would have been Stannis' fault for being unable to stop him in time...his trainer was going to kill him from sheer worry one of these days.

"Stannis?!
Both trainer and Pokemon immediately react to the Xatu's exclamation, Chris grinning at the fact that they were finally recognised while Stannis was simply dumbfounded. All doubts immediately vanish from the stag's mind; he knew that voice, and that meant Chris wasn't wrong. He was still too reckless for his own good, but not wrong. Yet, here, of all places-how?
"Pollux!"
"Ch-Chris?!"
For the first time in a long time, Stannis finds himself smiling, and doesn't say a word as Chris begins to move again, walking towards Vincent, though slower than before. Chris can hardly believe that after so many years, he has finally found someone he knows, someone he gives a fuck about. It was almost surreal seeing his friend in front of him like this. He can see tears, the sheer emotion on Vincent's face-nobody has cared enough to look like that for the past four years, not even him. Grinning like an idiot, the desire to actually hug someone and not hurt them instead, that was something belonging in the past. Never has he felt so glad to remember how things were before.

"Oh my God...Chris?" Vincent says, and at last there is a smile on his face as well. Four years. Four years, and somehow they have survived long enough to stumble upon each other in Fallarbor of all places. Maybe there actually was a god out there, watching over people. Or, you know, a really weird coincidence. "You're...you're alive?" Chris cannot help but give a short laugh-not at Vincent, but the situation itself. It was so ridiculous, yet so goddamn miraculous at the same time. Who would have ever guessed?

"I'd be shocked if I wasn't." He was too distracted to notice the look Stannis gave him, instead giving another chuckle. The stag cannot understand just what is so funny, but then, Chris always did have odd reactions. Maybe this was just his way of getting over how unbelievable this meeting was. Stannis didn't want to give Sage the wrong impression, but if laughing made his boy feel happy and at ease, he wasn't going to say a word against it.
"Seriously, though...it's damn good to see you again, Vincent."


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Re: (ELITE) The FALLARBOR Team

Post by Abysswalker on Sat Aug 01, 2015 3:36 pm

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Route 113 | Late Morning
[3]
(Both)

"I wouldn't even blame you." Damn, was Vincent always this twitchy? Chris notices him mess with that collar of his; he was nervous, that was all too obvious. What was there to be nervous about? If Chris had wanted to hurt him, he wouldn't have wasted time standing around talking, and his two Pokemon weren't exactly intimidating. So why was his friend acting so jumpy around him now? Is it something I said? No...that couldn't be right either, as his comment had been completely harmless. Wrestling with this stupid thought was completely pointless, which Chris was loathe to admit. How did figuring people out become so difficult after all these years? His frustrated mind really wanted to know, before it could get an even worse headache trying to figure this shit out.

But after Chris speaks again, Vincent finally appears at least a little bit more relaxed. As happy as he was to have finally found his friend, he'd forgotten just how exhausting it was to figure out how his moods worked. That could have very well simply been actual fatigue speaking, though. Chris' sore muscles were an angry crowd, each one complaining, one after the next. Hopefully he could find a place to rest his feet for an hour or two. "You too, Chris. It's been so long." Now that was an understatement; four years and this was the first of his friends Chris has found. Four years...for all he knew, everyone else could be dead, and he wouldn't even be aware of it. Most of them were capable fighters, but undead Pokemon and a lethal virus both made their survival...less than likely. Lyka. Matt. Rose... There was so few people left he gave a damn about, but there was one of them right here in front of him, and that was a start, better than nothing. If they could randomly stumble upon each other, why would the same not apply to anyone else? Chris didn't have a clue as to Vincent's whereabouts this entire time, and look what had happened; nobody could call him idealistic or naive in this situation.

"Good to see you two doing well, too," Vince says to Stannis and Cormag; the former gives a slight bow toward the other human, glad to see that Sage has not lost his polite demeanor. It was...all too common for such things to be disregarded and forgotten these days; a tragic, yet understandable loss. If only things had turned out differently; humans like Chris and Vincent Sage belonged in a better world than this miserable, broken one. Perhaps one day, things could be better, not just for them but everybody alive. Far too optimistic...but then, things are already negative enough as they have ever been.
"Vincent, boyo, how've yah been?" Cormag says excitedly, eyes wide as Vincent introduces his Ninjask to them; Chris feels a shiver down his spine. Bugs, no thanks, they were not for him-but his friend loved them, which meant being around them was pretty much guaranteed. Oh, that was going to be fun. 'Ey, Nima, nice to meet yah. Name's Cormag!"

Found her not long after, and she's stuck around since. In fact, the town is all remade," Vincent points back in the direction of Fallarbor, making Chris' question of where his other Pokemon were die in his throat. He remade the entire town? How-alone? Fallarbor was small, and if it'd been around for awhile, that made sense, but just one person...Chris has spend the entire apocalypse trying not to die, and Vincent's fixed an entire damn town. Something weighs down on his chest thinking of it, but Chris cannot tell what emotion it is, nor is he inclined to figure it out. He sees Stannis' concerned look and turns away; Chris was in no mood for a potential lecture, especially not in front of his friend like this. So what if he had nothing in the way of an accomplishment to show after four years? It was the end of the world, nobody cared.

"If you're low on supplies, or want a bed to sleep on...there's more than enough space." Chris immediately feels Cormag grab his arm with his wings, and the Archeops stares at him with watery eyes-what a drama queen. Was he going to start whimpering next? "Chris, a real bed," Cormag says with a pathetic whine, as if he were a small puppy instead of a badass prehistoric bird. Stannis looks at his trainer, expecting an answer, all while Chris wonders why Vincent is now looking almost depressed. Doubts gnaw at his chest; was four years enough to make Chris' social capabilities worse than before? Was the thrill of finding an old friend staving that off? Had his arrival caused Vincent to bounce through moods so much? So many questions that he did not have answers to, but wasn't that just a running theme of the fucking apocalypse?

"Can get pretty lonely there, ah, too."
"Whoa, easy on the pathos," Chris responds jokingly, trying to steer the conversation away from being alone. Vincent probably wouldn't approve of the things he'd done over the years, after all...not that Chris would be willing to talk about it.
"Staying sounds like a good idea. Better than sleeping on the ground, and it'll get this one off my back, too," Chris gestures to Cormag, who responds only with a wide grin.


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Re: (ELITE) The FALLARBOR Team

Post by Abysswalker on Thu Aug 20, 2015 9:54 am

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Route 113 | Late Morning
[4]
(Both)

Chris refrains from giving an overdramatic groan as Vincent breaks into a smile that looks exactly like Cormag's. Oh, man. They are going to have a field day. That was alright, though; he's just glad to see both his friend and his Pokemon smiling. He hasn't seen another human smiling in...a long time. Chris doesn't bring that up-it was best if Vee never knew about such things, or he wouldn't be looking at him with such happiness anymore. Nobody would. The person who had done those things and the person now weren't so different, after all, and Chris wasn't willing to place bets on the post-apocalyptic morals of a friend he hasn't seen in four years. It was best to just not take the risk.

"Nima, go back and let Hawthorne know what's going down." Chris tries to recall which Pokemon Hawthorne was...the Linoone? Eh, he couldn't remember, and he'd find out soon enough anyways. Remembering names was not something he had to worry about here. Hmm...would Vince remember his other Pokemon, the ones he has yet to let out of their Pokeballs? He'll at least know Hinawa, if nobody else.
Stannis, however, focuses more on the look Nima gave Chris before she flew away. He can understand being suspicious, but this was something more than that. What reason had his trainer given the Ninjask to dislike him, if that was the case here? The Sawsbuck gives yet another concerned glance at Chris, but as usual, the boy did not see it. With a sigh, Stannis resigns to the fact that, while it was unlikely Nima wanted to actually try and hurt Chris, he would still have to keep an eye out.

"Luckily it's not far; and with the fencing, no walker can get it without us knowing." Chris takes the silent offer to walk with Vince, still surprised that he has actually fixed up a town with only his Pokemon. He hasn't even seen Fallarbor yet, and it already sounds like absolute paradise. A place where he didn't have to worry about undead? Sign me right up. And the fact it was all thanks to someone he actually knew, and liked...well, that was just the icing on the cake.
Vincent isn't speaking, and Chris suddenly feels on the spot. Should he say something, or was Vince just waiting for the proper time to talk? His eyes dart to Stannis, and he bites down on the side of his mouth, searching for the right words. Chris had to say something, but what?

"So, Fallarbor...it's just you and your Pokemon?" Chris is half-tempted to bring out another Pokemon, to make himself feel less awkward, but keeps from doing so. Ninten would be a welcome sight, but he would likely try to cling to Vince's face. "I'm impressed. Seriously. You've done way more than...well, most of us, really." Stannis looks at Vincent, to gauge his reaction; Chris had not come off as anything negative, but he was not certain how Vince himself would interpret the words. He was doubtful of anything happening, but still-he had to make sure.


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I want that star, I want it now,
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Re: (ELITE) The FALLARBOR Team

Post by Abysswalker on Thu Oct 01, 2015 2:53 pm

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Route 113 | Late Morning
[5]
(Both)

"Ah, y-yep! No one else come up.. here, so we've been on our own, I haven't lost anyone while being here." Nobody? It looks like they were both lucky in that aspect, then, though there'd definitely been close calls on Chris' part. His hand reaches out, touching the soft fur on Stannis' neck. If even one of his Pokemon dies, he would...he...Chris takes the thought and drowns it in the rest. That was a dark path to think of. Somehow darker than the one I've already taken? Cormag has gone unusually quiet, and it takes a few seconds for Chris' mind to register that the Archeops is looking at him with the same concerned look Stannis and Hinawa always had. Why they were bothering to think so much about him was starting to get on his nerves-there was nothing wrong with him, yet everyone was acting as if he was going to fall apart at any second. After his second comment, Vince looks suddenly embarrassed, in that "I'm really not so great" sort of way that Chris was once used to seeing on Lyka's face. "Ahh, well, shit. Thanks." The guy even sounds like Lyka. Chris can only wonder at what has become of his best friend; a million different scenarios run through his mind, each one less likely than the previous. He truly does not know what has happened to anyone except Vincent, and it gnaws at him. Chris cannot recall how many times he has ran through their names in his head, trying to imagine where they were exactly when everything fell apart, what they were thinking, and where they would have gone. Please be in Kalos still. God, just be in Kalos still. Kalos is safe... Stannis nuzzles his face against his trainer's arm, the deer easily picking him on the turmoil his trainer was experiencing even if he could not feel the emotions himself. It was obvious in Chris' heavy footsteps and how he clenches his fists, as he always did when he was deep in thought.

Hopefully staying in Fallarbor will calm his nerves. The last thing they need is Chris' emotions to go out of control. Stannis refuses to let that happen, not when they've finally found not only a past friend, but a safe place as well. Being here would be good for him. Fortunately, Vincent Sage begins to speak again, which would hopefully keep Chris distracted from whatever was messing with his head. "Originally it was actually a trainer and a wild Pokemon that did this. I mean, I was there, but I hardly helped much, though they both had to move on, so the deal fell to me." That was...interesting. Why would strangers help someone and then simply leave their haven? Stannis doesn't doubt that Vincent Sage is telling the truth, but there has to be more to it than that. There wasn't any point to hiding information; Stannis knows Chris would be unlikely to care who made the town. Its mere continued existence was enough for him.
"Well, who were they?" Chris asks, intrigued as to why a wild Pokemon would help make a town for only a few other people. That, and he doesn't like being left out of the loop-that shit always drove him crazy even before the zombies. "This trainer and Pokemon, I mean." He wants to know everything about this place; a town that wasn't abandoned or infested was a rarity, after all, and something Chris had never expected.


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Re: (ELITE) The FALLARBOR Team

Post by Starbits on Fri Oct 02, 2015 10:49 am

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Route 113 | Late Morning | 1


"Whose bright idea was this, again?  Where the hell even are we?"  

"Yours, actually."

"Wait what?"  

"Weren't you the one who wanted to go investigate the volcano?"

"No, that was King!"  

"I distinctly remember you saying you wanted to check out the volcano."

"And you thought the ashes falling in the distance meant we should head that way to get closer."

"And now we're lost"

"We're not lost.  We're... uh... in the shadow of the volcano, yeah."  

"And where is that, exactly?"

"Near, um... what's it called... that town... nice little town... a city maybe-- oh what does it matter?  Seriously!  It's the end of the world; it's not like we're looking for a town, 'cause there'd be no people in it anyway!"  

"Guys, I have a headache," the human grumbles to her Pokemon companions.  The Chimchar on her shoulder sticks his tongue out at the Lucario and Gardevoir picking their way through the ash-brushed grasses.

"Yeah guys, cool it; she's not feeling well."  

"That means you need to be quiet too, buddy."  Her finger pokes his side, and he sulks.

So much for some friendly banter cheering her up.

"Ah... well... maybe you should lie down for a while.  Y'know.  See if that'll help your head."  

"I dunno if that'll help without shelter, Flame..."

"Maybe there's somewhere we can hide for a bit... even a thick patch of trees would work..."

"I don't see any that are close together enough to keep the ashes off," the Gardevoir murmurs, glancing around.

"Yeah, me neither-- hold up."  The Lucario halts, eyes wide as he glances around.

"Uh... Matti?"  

"Mattimeo, something wrong...?"  Sara-Anne's fingers curl into trembling fists, which then relax into hands and grip her arms.

"I sense... something.  An aura.  Definitely an aura, and it's not red, so not infect-- that's a human aura."  His eyes widen in shock.  "Guys, that's a human aura."

"Should we go check it out...?" The fairy is wringing her dress, chewing on her lip.  "It didn't end so badly last time; we could get lucky again..."

"I mean, between me, Matti, and Joy, we could take out any squishy human that tries attacking..."  

"There's more."  Joy is staring at Mattimeo, who winces.  "We both know that."

"... I think this human's injured.  That aura doesn't look so hot."  The Lucario watches helplessly as his human flinches.

"We'll g-get c-closer," she decides with a shaking voice.  "So that one of y-you guys can s-scout it out.  And if it's t-too dangerous, we'll just r-run."

The pain in her head worsens and her stomach twists.  She should be running to the rescue--Mattimeo said the human was injured; they're not faking it.  She should want to help, but instead worries about supplies and the still lingering threat of danger whirl in her mind.  Humans are supposed to help other humans; why is she so reluctant...?

"L-let's g-go.  Matti, lead the w-way."  Mattimeo nods and turns a sharp left, at first keeping a brisk pace but then slowing his steps for his human's benefit.  Flame leaps from her shoulder to land on Joy's, trying to scent the air and growling as all that reaches him is the smell of ashes.

I guess this was a pretty stupid idea after all...  

Several minutes later, Mattimeo spots red and blue through the trees, pointing the human out.  "There."   Sara-Anne chews on her lip.

Should they approach...?


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Re: (ELITE) The FALLARBOR Team

Post by Lance on Fri Oct 02, 2015 11:37 am

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Route 113||Late Morning
(1)


There had been flashes of wings and fire, of fangs, claws and scales everywhere. A miasma of blood and bone, a whirling, spinning tornado of confusion and danger had captured him and his team. Dozens, hundreds of hungry maws stretched for him and his pokemon, all ravenous, all deadly. There wasn't escape. No escape, except straight down. To fall.

Lance had always been an accomplished flyer, but this had been a different experience all together. Returning his mounts mid-flight to keep them safe from the jaws of another giant looming behemoth, then summoning another one below to catch him before he fell too far. It had, shockingly, worked for a time before the last summon of his Noivern proved a mistake as the dragon tripped over the canopy below and sent them both crashing into the ashen wood. Now, Lance only lay as the volcanic dust covered him and his downed Noivern like snow, the last of the flock dying to his Dragonite's fists and wings.

How long ago had that been? Minutes? Hours? Days, even? He didn't know; the Dragon Master was only vaguely aware of the fact that he was on the ground as he came to. A sharp, overwhelming pain nearly took the breath out of him then and there, his leg and arm throbbing in a way he hadn't felt in years. Broken... Fuck...

Struggling to reach with his good hand to check his leg, movement ahead caught his attention. His foggy mind immediately went to the small pool of blood beneath him and its scent, as well as what it would attract. He quickly returned his still unconscious Noivern and felt for his Tyrantrum, knowing he was the last line of defense while Dragonite was still aloft. The others were exhausted from the flight from Kanto.

Adrenaline pumping, he forced himself up, gritting past the nearly blinding pain from his arm and leg, standing with the help of a nearby tree. He glanced down to look at his hurt leg; the armor was heavily bent inward, where he knew it bit into the skin and likely bone. That explained the pain, at least. His arm, however, looked to only be dislocated, so... that was better? Panting hard from the effort and in a bid to ignore the pain, he stared hard at the figures moving in between the trees, praying he'd have the strength to fend anything hostile off. His good hand stayed on Tyrantrum's ball, ready to call him.
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Re: (ELITE) The FALLARBOR Team

Post by Abysswalker on Wed Oct 21, 2015 2:26 pm

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Route 113 [Edge of Fallarbor Town] | Late Morning
[6]
(Both)

Chris raises an eyebrow at the look on Vince's face. It was only a simple question, not a life-or-death matter. Did he not want his company was or something? It would explain why he seems so reluctant to tell Chris anything. If that's the case, then say it. Sure, Vince had been happy enough to see him at first, even offering him a place in the town, but still...that didn't mean he'd want Chris around forever. Hell, Vincent might already want him gone and didn't have the heart to tell him so. That wouldn't even be a shock. Chris searches for an answer in Vince's green eyes and finds nothing; the other man soon turns away, anyways. Sick of looking at me, I suppose.

"It's, ah, quite a story. Maybe I can tell you the details over some food or something." It would have been nice to have actual answers without being brushed off, but oh well. Chris would learn soon enough, Vincent wasn't the type to go against his word. Well, at least he wasn't four years ago, before the whole "end of the world" thing..."But the pokemon was actually a Legend... Azelf, from Sinnoh." Wait a fucking-a Legend? Like, an actual fucking Legend? Chris stares, unable to comprehend how Vince could be so...so nonchalant about a goddamn Legendary Pokemon helping him bring back a town. Even Stannis' normally stoic expression has changed to that of mildly curiosity, and that doesn't help one bit. Chris feels a bitter taste lingering in the back of his throat; if he could glare at himself, he would. Vincent starts a successful town with a Legendary. That's great. It is. What have you done, dumbass? Stumbled your way through Hoenn, killed a few people...

"Azelf? Wow, Vincent, yah sure are a lucky one-how were they? Ain't everyday yah meet a Legend-"
"Give him room to breathe, Cormag."
"'Ell then, Mister Stoneface, 'cuse me for bein' curious-"
"You're giving me a headache," Chris complains, and the Archeops rolls his eyes. Stannis is far more dignified about it, merely looking away from both of them. "What about the trainer?" he says to Vince, still unwilling to be in the dark over it.


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I want that star, I want it now,
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Re: (ELITE) The FALLARBOR Team

Post by Starbits on Fri Oct 23, 2015 12:49 am

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Route 113 | Late Morning | 2


He's moving.

The figure stands--a man, she assumes by his height, and oh dear sweet Arceus that's a lot of height--with the help of a tree.  He surveys the leg he isn't favoring, and her eyes grow wide as they take in his clothing.  He looks like he just stepped out of a fucking RPG fantasy game; a long, flowing (though torn) cape, item pouches along a belt, and gray armor; a breastplate, a gauntlet, a shoulder... pad?  Whatever the fuck those are called.  And shin guards.  Oh my god he has ARMOR and he's like a foot taller than me oh god what do I do!?

If he's got armor, if he's this well prepared, he definitely has a fucking weapon.  Somewhere.  Her heart nearly stops as he glances up, glaring through the trees.  

"He's glaring, oh god, he's glaring death at me," she whimpers nearly too quietly to be heard, and doesn't realize she said anything aloud until Joy, shaking under the weight of her terror, points out the obvious.  "No, he's just trying to see things.  See?  He's squinting, honey, not glaring."

"I... I don't think silver is his fur color.  Hair color.  Whatever."  Flame climbs up his human's body to take his customary place at her shoulder.  "I think that's literally all ash.  Look at him; he's like... coated in it."

"He must have been lying there for a long time," murmurs the Lucario, sympathy evident in his eyes.  

It turns out the somewhere a weapon would be stashed is a lot closer than Sara-Anne thought.  Large brown eyes peeking from the close knit trees spent the time her friends tried consoling her searching for a flash of silver, or a sudden movement of black or wood.  But the man doesn't need a gun or a knife; he brought better as his first line of defense.  The round white and red object makes her gasp, her Pokemon following suit as soon as they spot what their trainer had.

Regardless of whether or not he means harm, that Pokeball cannot be allowed to open.  The risk is far too great.

An entire conversation passes in silence through glances between the Pokemon, and before Sara-Anne can make a sound, Mattimeo steps out, arms up and palms out.  

"Hey, whoa, hey!  Nobody wants to fight.  I saw an injured human aura and we just wanted to check on you.  Your leg looks pretty bad; do you want our help?  My human is nearby and can offer assistance but she won't come out if you have something she can skew as a weapon out.  She's a lot smaller than you; she's not gonna hurt you and kind of... can't."

Sara-Anne's shaking fingers tighten on the hem of her black sweater.  Oh god.  Matti.  What are you doing.


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Re: (ELITE) The FALLARBOR Team

Post by Lance on Fri Oct 23, 2015 1:48 am

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Route 113||Late Morning
(2)


Yes, there was definitely something there in the trees, and it wasn't strange hallucinations brought on by blood loss. Voices drifted in and out of his consciousness, voices that were surely there. Probably. Most likely. Yeah.

Lance panted heavily as he stood against that tree, the feeling of warm blood trickling down his bad leg and side constantly distracting him from deciphering just who was spying on him. His eyes narrowed into a squint, he had to keep blinking away the ash in order to keep seeing, which was difficult since his vision kept blurring. His good hand gripped his Tyrantrum's pokeball tighter as he realized that he felt blood trickling down his neck too. On top of everything else, he likely had a concussion, too. Shit.

But soon enough, there was movement once more, causing the dragon master to flinch back to reality as he tried to forcefully blink his vision back to normal. Out stepped a Lucario, a formidable enough pokemon with a dual typing that spelt out danger for his Tyrantrum. He had no idea what level the pokemon would be at, but at the moment, Lance didn't have much capacity for strategy. Thankfully, it seemed the creature just wanted to talk.

"Hey, whoa, hey!" it began, and Lance was quietly grateful that of all the things of his that broke in the fall, his communicator had not. "Nobody wants to fight.  I saw an injured human aura and we just wanted to check on you.  Your leg looks pretty bad; do you want our help?  My human is nearby and can offer assistance but she won't come out if you have something she can skew as a weapon out.  She's a lot smaller than you; she's not gonna hurt you and kind of... can't."

Lance scoffed at the idea of someone completely harmless roaming the wilds, spitting out a small amount of blood in the process. "If... your trainer... were so... helpless," he began in between heavy breaths. Jesus, breathing was hard. "...then she... wouldn't have... made it this far, would she?" He shook his head, dislodging some ash to reveal angry auburn locks. He spit out blood and drool as he continued to struggle to breathe, the pain washing over him with each agonizing breath. "No... I won't be made... even more defenseless..." Suddenly, his head swam with vertigo, catching him off guard. With nothing to hold onto the tree, Lance nearly doubled over and lost his delicate balance only to just manage to push himself back against the tree. With his renewed vigor, he stared back at the Lucario defiantly, turning his attention to the figure still in the trees.

"Stop slithering in the shadows and... face me like a fucking adult," he snapped, blinking back the darkness at the edge of his vision. He couldn't stop now, not when so many people depended on him. He couldn't die here by some rogue... He had to get to Evergrande... He swallowed hard and his furious eyes turned back to the Lucario as his grip on Tyrantrum's ball tightened again. "I will... not... be... mugged by... by--" His body lurched again, blood and bile scratching at his throat as he coughed it up. He wasn't going to be able to stay awake much longer... Not like this.
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Re: (ELITE) The FALLARBOR Team

Post by Starbits on Tue Nov 03, 2015 7:36 pm

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Route 113 | Late Morning | 3


Mattimeo watches as Sara-Anne's aura shrinks back against the trees, a pang in his heart as he watches it become frantic and messy when the stranger speaks.  "If... your trainer... were so... helpless ...then she... wouldn't have... made it this far, would she?"  His breaths are slow and labored, strain evident in every feature of his face and body language.

His aura screams pain and fear, a deep willed determination to survive, and growing anger.  His bite, the canine is aware, is currently worse than his bark.  As long as that pokemon stays in the ball, that is.  

Sara-Anne watches as he shakes his head, some of the ashes flinging loose from his hair-- red hair, bright and fiery.  "No... I won't be made... even more defenseless..."  He spits red, and her stomach turns.  Defenseless...  She hadn't thought of it like that, of just how utterly helpless he was.  And still is.  He... looks really bad off...  As if to confirm that he nearly topples over, only just barely hanging onto the tree.  Mattimeo strode forward, prepared to catch him before he could fall, but stopped and moved back when he remained upright, sharp eyes watching for another potential collapse.

"Stop slithering in the shadows and... face me like a fucking adult," the man growls, blinking hard.  Is he going to pass out...?  The fire in his eyes has grown hotter.  He's angrier.  The cruel words make her shrink back.

"I will... not... be... mugged by... by--"  He nearly falls again.  No... she can't watch this anymore.  Making a decision, she steps out from the trees, her Chimchar diving from her shoulder to walk at her side, near her legs, warily watching the human.

"I'm not a thief," she mumbles. "I don't wanna fight.  Not gonna mug you."  

"We wanna help," adds the monkey, "but we'll fight back if your Pokemon attacks."

"Heal Pulse would be helpful right now.  If we ever meet someone who can reteach me moves, I really ought to pick that one back up..."  Joy glances behind them as if checking to ensure they are still safe.  So far, nothing.

"We don't mean you any harm.  We're offering help.  You gonna accept it?"


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Re: (ELITE) The FALLARBOR Team

Post by Lance on Tue Nov 03, 2015 8:06 pm

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Route 113||Late Morning
(3)


Suddenly, more movement. Bright, golden eyes snapped up to see the shape in the trees finally shift to reveal itself; the Lucario's trainer, a chimchar at her feet. The sight of the unevolved pokemon confused Lance-- perhaps she wasn't as accomplished of a trainer as he'd thought? It explained all the cloak and dagger. But power mattered little when his vision swam and his leg trembled and threatened to collapse. A good breeze would win against him now.

And what was worse was that everyone knew it.

His eyes darted as each, pokemon and trainer, spoke in rapid succession. "I'm not a thief," the girl mumbled; Lance barely heard her words. "I don't wanna fight.  Not gonna mug you."  

"We wanna help," added the small monkey. The dragon master swallowed against the lump in his throat as he eyed the pokemon. "but we'll fight back if your Pokemon attacks."

"Heal Pulse would be helpful right now.  If we ever meet someone who can reteach me moves, I really ought to pick that one back up..."  Gardevoir. A pokemon that could single-handedly destroy each of his fatigued team even if she were twenty levels below them. His eyes widened with alarm, but it's masked through the pain and anger already on his face, coming out more in a snarl than anything else. He couldn't let that pokemon near any of his team. Subconsciously, he clutched his Tyrantrum's ball closer to his body.

"We don't mean you any harm.  We're offering help.  You gonna accept it?"

"Don't you?" Lance snapped back, his voice crackling with the blood settling on his vocal cords. It was getting worse. Shit. He spat once more, his breathing becoming shorter and more ragged as the adrenaline began to wear off. His ribs were hurting more now. Shit, shit. "What gain do-do you get from..." Oh God, the nausea, the pain. His leg threatened to collapse, but he rode through it, once more fixating his furious gaze upon the trainer. "What could you possibly g-get from helping me?" he finished through clenched teeth. "The only 'help' you'll give me is... help to the grave!"
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Re: (ELITE) The FALLARBOR Team

Post by Starbits on Wed Nov 04, 2015 1:46 am

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Route 113 | Late Morning | 4


"Don't you?"  The man's response to Mattimeo's calm question is immediate and snappish, but it cracks.  Another second later he's forced to spit, and the blood churns Sara-Anne's stomach.  

Now that she's right there, the red is everywhere oh dear gods.

His breathing grows more unsteady, more ragged, and his face is contorted in pain.  "What gain do-do you get from..."  His gaze drops for a moment, then his eyes squeeze shut, and then they're open again, glaring at her and spitting out the rest of his thought.  "What could you possibly g-get from helping me?  The only 'help' you'll give me is... help to the grave!"

"N-no," she whispers, shrinking back anyway. "I-I'm not-- I just want to help-- I can't kill anyone; I'm sick enough looking at the blood as it is--!"

"Sir, stop."  Joy is withering beneath the humans' fear, but she grits her teeth and grinds out what she needs to say.  "We want to help because we're all sentient here and we all have a moral code.  No one's going to kill you."

"So help me though, if you try anything, you're gonna regret it." Flame's tail fire heats up, the crackling fire fanning upwards and outwards a little.

"Flame, shh."  Turning his head back to Lance, he adds, You're in no condition to do anything, a'right?  Just... just sit down.  We have bandages.  We can help with your arm-- well, so long as it's dislocated, anyway.  Not sure if we can make a splint if it's broken...

"Might be able to," Joy mutters.  "There's enough freaking wood around."


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Re: (ELITE) The FALLARBOR Team

Post by Lance on Wed Nov 04, 2015 6:02 am

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Route 113||Late Morning
(4)



"N-no," the girl whimpered with fear, backing away from Lance's stand. She was pale, perhaps at the sight of blood, but Lance didn't much care at this point; he was simply glad to have her not so close. "I-I'm not-- I just want to help-- I can't kill anyone; I'm sick enough looking at the blood as it is--!" Lance weakly scoffed at the sentiment.

"Sir, stop." Furious golden eyes snapped back to the Gardevoir and he bristled in her presence, his mind only able to think of his wrecked pokemon. He could only hope at this point that Noivern was even still alive. "We want to help because we're all sentient here and we all have a moral code. No one's going to kill you." Right. Sure.

"So help me though, if you try anything, you're gonna regret it." The Chimchar flared its tail in what was likely a warning with its kind, catching the dragon master's attention. He gave the small monkey a stern glare just like the others, lip twitching as it suppressed the urge to snarl again.

"Flame, shh." the Lucario shushed. Odd. Why was the Lucario giving orders? Maybe he was the lead pokemon, like Dragonite was to Lance. It was possible. All his other pokemon followed Dragonite as they followed Lance. You're in no condition to do anything, a'right? Just... just sit down. We have bandages. We can help with your arm-- well, so long as it's dislocated, anyway. Not sure if we can make a splint if it's broken...

"Might be able to," the Gardevoir muttered beneath her breath as Lance stiffened; they were going to try and mend him? Maybe they knew who he was-- wanted to get information from him. His paranoia spiked as the Gardevoir continued to muse. "There's enough freaking wood around."

"Don't you touch me," Lance barked, putting all his weight against the tree, trying in vain to stay as far away from them as he could. "I--FUCK!" In his anxiousness to get away, he accidentally put weight on his very broken leg, which immediately crumpled beneath him, causing a fall. He landed on the ashen ground with a hard, sick thud, but was still awake nonetheless. For a moment, he nearly blacked out, his vision a laughing mockery of blurs and muted colors. His ears rang and every nerve in his body was on fire. As his senses returned from the brink of the abyss, he heard himself whimpering with each heavy, struggling breath.

But this would be it-- this would be where the killing blow would be struck. As his panic flared again, he gained a new and likely last rush of adrenaline as he slammed his bad shoulder into the ground, trying to reset it. One, two, three, four-- and a sickening snap. Feeling returned to his numbed arm and he immediately went for his machete still nestled on his side, as Tyrantrum was now in as much danger as he. "Stay... away..." he managed with a quivering breath, the tip of the blade shaking with effort.
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Re: (ELITE) The FALLARBOR Team

Post by Starbits on Wed Nov 04, 2015 10:55 am

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Route 113 | Late Morning | 5


His reaction to Joy's musings send her jumping and scrambling a little further away from him.  "Don't you touch me!"

"I-I wasn't go-going to--" But to no avail; in full wounded animal mode, he's not capable of listening.  His body leans backwards as he tries harder to put more distance between them, but--

"I--FUCK!

--in staring at them so hard, he fails to notice where his weight is shifting, and sets it all suddenly on the leg he's trying so hard to protect.  The effect is immediate and truthfully pitiful to watch, his leg giving way and sending him crashing to the sparse, ashy grass below, Sara-Anne squeaking in shock.  Mattimeo pitches forward but is too late to catch him, and wary of how the man may react to being moved, he steps back as soon as he steps forward.  

"O-oh, oh no--"  She moves to take a step forward, but Mattimeo reaches out and grabs her arm, staring hard at the long, flat thing against his hip-- a sheathe.

Thankfully Sara-Anne fails to notice this.  Her wide eyes are fixed on the man's face, tearing up as he whimpers in pain.

"Please," the fairy begins, hesitant, "we really do just want to-- what are you doing!"  A collective gasp of shock and fear is stolen from the group as they watch the redhead slam his shoulder into the ground.  Once, twice, three times; on the fourth a disgusting snap rings out and Sara-Anne gags a little, hands over her mouth now.  But there's no time to dwell on that; he reaches for the sheathe and draws his machete, the bottom dropping out of her stomach as he does.

"Stay... away..."

"Fuck it; let's leave.  This guy ain't worth our time." His tail flame flares higher, teeth bared at the dragon tamer.

"Do-don't want to-- he's not-- I mean, he's hurt," she trips over her words, her pale face flushing.  "I-I want to help."

"I don't know if we should..."  

"He's in pain," the Gardevoir added, backing Sara-Anne up.

"I-I'm not leaving him to die.  For all we know a horde could come."


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Re: (ELITE) The FALLARBOR Team

Post by Lance on Wed Nov 04, 2015 8:53 pm

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Route 113||Late Morning
(5)


The voices and the shapes were beginning to blend together in a murky grey static as Lance struggled to stay conscious, despite his body very much disagreeing. "Fuck it; let's leave. This guy ain't worth our time." The monkey -at least, once it stopped being a bright blur- was practically snapping at his feet. Lance felt his newly set arm burning as he kept Tyrantrum's ball close to his chest with his good arm, unwilling to lower the machete aimed at the girl.

"Do-don't want to-- he's not-- I mean, he's hurt," she stutters, tripping over her words as she tried in vain to calm her pokemon down. "I-I want to help."

"I don't know if we should..."

"He's in pain," the Gardevoir spoke again, causing Lance to flinch. The words were beginning to get jumbled in his mind, and every thought felt like walking through quicksand. Everything hurt. Everything burned. The throbbing pain was so overwhelming, he couldn't even think of words to say to the girl anymore. And he was so tired... so fucking tired...

"I-I'm not leaving him to die. For all we know a horde could come." Horde... His muddled mind went to his Dragonite, who was likely still fighting off the horde that had landed them here. Worry crossed his features as he found himself staring upward, trying to gain a glimpse of yellow through the trees. Arthur... Vertigo overtook him once more as he stared up at the sky, losing his precarious balance on his arm and fell backward, dropping the machete to the ash-coated ground. His Tyrantrum's pokeball rolled gently from his slackened grip, but he didn't seem to notice. Finally fully on the ground, he succumbed to the blackened edges of his vision, falling deep into unconsciousness.
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Re: (ELITE) The FALLARBOR Team

Post by Starbits on Thu Nov 05, 2015 2:10 am

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Route 113 | Late Morning | 6


She's not really sure if the man heard her--he's staring at the sky, worry creasing his face further as his eyes dart around.  

What is he looking for?

"U-um..."

Is he even capable of understanding anything anymore?  At all?  His eyes look a lot more unfocused and she's got zero medical training--a pang of agony for Lynn flashes through her, ow--but even an untrained eye can see he's ready to pass out.

And then he does, the machete falling from his grip and his Pokeball rolling away.  Sara-Anne picks it wordlessly up, walking forward to carefully stow it in one of the pouches.

Now what?

"We don't really have any water to spare to clean his wounds..."

"Ah shit; and we need to because of all the ash..."

"I-I think the w-worst injuries are h-his leg and arm..." She kneels down with a swallow.  Ay, how to go about this...

"So do we just... take his shirt off?"  

"Gotta take a look to see how banged up he is somehow," Flame points out.

"We need to remove the armor first..."

"M-maybe we should st-start with just moving him someplace else..."  There was supposed to be a town somewhere around here; even just a roof over their heads would help with this mess.  Chewing on her lip, she draws Quake's Pokeball from her pocket, thumbing it to enlargen the ball, ready to release the grass dinosaur to help.  It'd be far easier to place the man on Quake's back than to ask Mattimeo or Joy to carry him.


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Re: (ELITE) The FALLARBOR Team

Post by Lance on Thu Nov 05, 2015 4:29 am

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Route 113||Late Morning
(6)


Arthur raced through the sky, the remnants of the horde that had so brutally torn through his teammates and trainer still on his tail. He had seen Lance and Lucan taking their fall some time ago, and the fact that they hadn't resurfaced worried Arthur. Taking a glance at the mass of flapping wings and hungry maws at his back, he steeled himself for one last bout of attacks. He needed to end this and find Lance-- his gut knew that his trainer's absence, as well as all his teammates' absence, was significant and ominous. He pushed himself faster, if only to gain a wider window between himself and his pursuers to then about-face, speeding at them head-on. The mindless beasts seemed overjoyed at the sight, pushing their own bodies forward as well to greet him.

Taking in a steadying breath, Arthur knew this was a risky move; though the wind displacement of the attack should knock anything grabbing for him aside, it was obvious, especially in this day and age, that not everything went according to plan. He could come out injured or worse-- infected. But his stamina was waning and now panic had begun to taint his resolve. He needed to end this. Now.

With one last Dragon Dance to boost his attack and speed quickly made, he charged forward as his wings began to glow a glimmering silver. In a blur of movement, he cut through the horde at a blinding speed, rendering the soft, rotten flesh from its host, then banked and went at the horde again. He made at least a dozen fly-bys, exhausting his pool of Steel Wing moves. The dead dropped from the sky in pieces and soon, there was only a single Pidgeot left, struggling as its cut feathers barely held it aloft. Once more, Arthur charged forward and his clawed hand curled into a fist, the Thunder Punch hitting true as the charged up attack left the bird little more than charred jerky. For a small moment, there was peace; the sky was empty, save for himself. A quick glance-over of his own body produced even more good news: no wounds. An actual victory, then.

Panting, his eyes scanned the forest below as his mind went back to his downed trainer and comrade. Pumping his exhausted wings once more, his panic aiding him, he spotted a dent in the canopy; broken limbs and wrecked trees formed a neat line. There. That had to be it. Banking quickly, Arthur sped forward to see his trainer lying postrate, unconscious or worse, with a group of Pokémon and their trainer standing over him. Immediately, he sprang forward, the air around him cracking with power, forgetting he was nearly out of actual attacking moves. It didn't matter. He wouldn't let anything else happen to Lance if he could help it. He'd use his bare face if he had to.

He landed before them in a flash on all fours, placing himself over Lance's body, glaring up at them wide-eyed, alert. Beneath him in the silence, he heard Lance's faint, crackled breathing and couldn't help but sigh lightly in relief: heavily wounded, but alive. Seeing as how they hadn't already taken his armor and supplies, Arthur considered perhaps they weren't scavengers after all, which had been their experience so far of the out-lying trainers. Lance's machete was out of its sheath, near his limp hand. He'd tried defending himself, then, but his trainer likely was more feral with all of his wounds. Fear saturated the air around them: wounded and scared, Lance likely tried his hand at intimidation before falling unconscious. Sounded right. Whether or not Lance had actual cause to be so defensive remained to be seen. Arthur's sharp eyes soon spotted the Communicator on the girl, which gave him a little more relief: at least there wouldn't be a language barrier.

"Who are you...?" he asked quietly, watching each carefully in turn, taking the machete and placing it carefully and slowly into its sheath, still over his wounded trainer.
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Re: (ELITE) The FALLARBOR Team

Post by Starbits on Thu Nov 05, 2015 1:40 pm

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Route 113 | Late Morning | 7


Nobody expects the dragon.

The Dragonite dives out of the sky, not quite like an avenging angel but close enough to it to prompt a scream from Sara-Anne as she stumbles back and falls, scrambling to scoot away from the enormous creature as he leans over his human's body.  

That's it we're gonna die.  This is how it ends.  She raises an arm instinctively, her other three Pokemon charging attacks but not daring to step closer lest they prompt the dragon to kill their trainer.

"Who are you...?"

What.

She lowers an arm.

He's just... watching them.

"U-um..."  She swallows.  "I-I..."

Mattimeo eases out of his attack stance.  "She's Sara-Anne; I'm Mattimeo, that's Flame, and that's Joy," he says, pointing to each one.  "We're not anyone special-- just survivors.  We came over because I can see auras, and I saw your human's.  We haven't seen a human in a long while, and that aura told me he was injured, so we thought we'd just come and check."  

"And your trainer flipped his lid a little.  Thought we were gonna mug him."  Flame shrugs.  "I mean I guess I can understand that, since not all human survivors are friendly, but he scared my girl."  

"Flame shush.  He was afraid, too."  Joy runs a hand through her hair.  "I'm sorry we scared him.  We really did just want to help."  

"Th-there's... um... we're lost but-- I remember around here there's a ci-- I mean."  Deep breath in and a breath out.  "I remember there's a town around here somewhere, but we don't know where.  Um, if we can move your human there, we have bandages for him.  I'm not... really good with human medicine but... at least we can do that much for him.  And maybe... make a splint...?"


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i am blinded by the light of god and truth and right
and i wander in the night without direction



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little fairy

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Re: (ELITE) The FALLARBOR Team

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    Current date/time is Wed May 23, 2018 6:21 pm