(ELITE) The REALGAM Team

A soft groan floated through the thick, hot air of the desert resort. There was nothing moving in the area, the large, open room stale as old bread. Along one curved wall was a row of tall machines, each the length of a washing machine, while the height that of an old man. Most of them were covered in dirt from the growing year of misuse, very little tainted the luxurious room save for simple lack of upkeep. Though the smell of blood was apparent, as it always was, it was the most peaceful place in the entire place.

That was, until the loud, unpleasant snore ripped through the air.

Beside the slot machines, right where the line of them ended, was a pair of soft chairs, right beside each other. And draped over said chairs was the culprit guilty for the ugly sound. His head hung off of one side, perfectly up-side-down as jaws hung open with slack, the rest of his body draped lazily over the old furniture like ink. His long, thick body found no discomfort in the knot-like position. Quite the contrary, he found it absolutely magical, and thus the sleeping like a dead baby. His tail tip twitched, a carry over from a dream, as his open lips tensed and relaxed, as if speaking in his sleep.

But without warning, his eyes snapped open, his body reacting with a violent jerk... but due to his position, only ended up tightening his grip on his own tail and he grunted from the unexpected discomfort. Slowly lifting his head, the Dragonair's eyes blinked away sleep as he stared up at the tall ceiling, studying a hanging chandelier. "Some party last night," he commented in a monotone to himself. Of course there had been no party. Quite the contrary, it had been the easiest rest he had gotten in months. Not a single disturbance or attack. Not dying was always nice.

With greater care, Stark slowly pulled his tail back, dislodging it from between is twisted torso and freeing it, inevitably loosening up the rest of his body with a sigh. Whipping his neck over to see the world from the correct perspective, Stark crawled slowly off of his bed to the ground, his chin just above the ground as he slithered like a snake on the dusty floor. Without the conscious decision, the Dragionair lifted his tail tip and flicked it towards one of the machines, sending out the sharp jolt of electricity with a Thunder Wave. The mechanic lit itself up in seconds, dinging in a chirpy manner as it begged the Pokemon to gamble. Smirking, Stark turned around, rearing his head up high on a curved neck.

Waving his tail lazily in front of the slot machine, he eyed it affectionately. "Wouldn't want to disappoint you, now would I?" Gripping the lever with his tail, he pulled it down, the loud rolling of the slots stuttering from years of mistreatment even as the electricity boost it got threatened to fade.

His mind was still reeling, even days after what had happened.
What happened...
What...
The echo of his heavy footfalls were the only sound in the empty, glamorous halls, reminding him too much of his lonely sanctuary. Red eyes still blankly staring ahead, scoping out danger on pure instinct, it allowed his mind to try and piece together what had happened back in Seafoam. One moment, he had an eye and the barrel of his gun pointed at the squirrelly professor. The next... he was stranded in the searing heat, staring at the largest tower he'd ever seen.

What...
What could have possibly caught him that off guard?

He paused a moment, shutting his eyes in a rare moment of what could be considered carelessness and rubbed his throbbing forehead. He'd scoured his memory for a trace of a clue, but nothing... There was only a silhouette of what probably was a Kadabra, but... Blaine had sent his little soldier out some time before then. She had been due back anyway... That couldn't be a clue, could it? And even if it was... He opened his eyes once more and disdainfully glared at his new surroundings. It wasn't like he knew where he was. He could only guess perhaps he was in Hoenn; he'd heard of a desert there, but... not with a giant, ornate ivory tower. He was stranded, with limited ammo and rations of both food and water, with no pokemon, no communication, no backup, and no shelter.

All in all, he was fucked.

But on the bright side, he was away from Blaine... and that was definitely something to celebrate. At least he'd be able to die in peace.

Sighing heavily and shouldering his rifle, he continued forward, wandering in random directions, looking for... something, really. But as he drifted and haunted the bloodstained paradise, a curious sound caught his ear. Not quite a crash, but still something very deliberate and... familiar? Narrowing his gaze, he moved stealthily toward the noise, aware that if it caught his attention, others would soon be on their way. Oh well. He'd rather kill any nearby Undead now, while he still had a manageable first aid kit on hand.

Finally reaching the room where the now garish sound was being produced, he leaned in carefully, readying himself for anything that could be in that room. Unfortunately, no one can mentally prepare themselves for the sight of a dragonair gambling in the middle of an abandoned casino with dried gore everywhere.

...Yeah... Yeah, that sentence certainly existed now.

Blinking, Red couldn't fathom moving just yet, as it was a little impossible to comprehend what was happening. Since when did pokemon gamble? Why was the machine working? WHAT WAS HE GAMBLING WITH? The questions bombarded the trainer too quickly for any sort of answers to survive, and so, he was left a moment, slack-jawed and dumbfounded. But eventually, his itchy trigger hand won out, and Red finally returned to his senses. Sort of.

"What... the... FUCK... are you doing?"

Unfortunate for the Dragon, he did not win. A frown split his hansom face, eyes furrowing with displeasure as the pictures for a cherry, a random Pokemon, and a seven showed itself on the screen. An immature groan escaped him, Stark throwing his head back in exasperation as he rolled his eyes. "Four years of this bull shit luck and I can't even win?" Feeling himself becoming stubborn, he reached out again for the large lever, and pulling it down to a click as he smirked. He was confident he'd get it this time. He was Stark, The Stark! He didn't take shit from no body.

But in his day dreaming, the dying sound of the machine did not register. Stark found himself gaping, jaw dropped, at the machine as the weak jolt of power did not have enough for another go. "That's just great," he muttered to himself, pulling his tail back, but it was then that the intruding voice sounded from behind him.

"What... the... FUCK... are you doing?"

The Dragonair whipped around, expecting a pissed off... well he didn't really know what he expected, but it surely was not the army clad man standing in the doorway. Blood stained his uniform in various places, and the sharp look to his eyes warned the Dragon that he was not alive by mere luck, despite the look of stupefaction on his face. The gun poking over his shoulder was a silent warning, and one Stark did acknowledge.
But at the same time...

"Oh, I'm sorry, bad manners. I didn't know you were there. Would you like a go?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, bad manners. I didn't know you were there. Would you like a go?"

.......

"Oh, I'm sorry.
Bad manners.
I didn't know you were there.
Would you like a go?"

.........

"Oh, I'm sorry.
.................
"Would you like a go?"
...................
"Would you like a go?"
......................

"Would you like a go?"
"Would you like a go?"
"Would you like a go?"
"Would you like a go?"

There just...

There are no words....

There was a long pause between the dragonair's rather polite invitation to gamble and Red's mind once again regaining its footing in the conversation at hand. His mouth floundered slightly, unsure how to proceed. How the hell would anyone proceed? Honestly, just shooting the damn thing felt like the most natural thing he could possibly do at this point, since he got the feeling that this dragonair shouldn't possibly exist even with all the terrifying abominations he'd seen because of the epidemic. Still, at least it was inviting him for gambling instead of... exactly everything else it could possibly be doing.

Looking the dragon up and down, Red took a better hold of his rifle; something that reassured him that yes, he was still conscious and no, he wasn't on some drugs of what Blaine might have pumped him full. This was reality and... he'd just have to roll with it. Or shoot it. Shoot it was a good idea.

"...You have a reason for... doing... that, other than making a lot of noise?" Red grumbled, bringing his rifle up a bit further for quick use, lest the gambling dragon try to pull something quick.

The look on the human's face. The literal look on his face. That made everything leading up to that moment, right there, worth it. Stark tilted his head to the side, seeing the expression unchanging on the guy's face. While Stark had thought the offer was friendly enough, apparently it did not fly well with the human. Just as Stark opened his mouth to speak, however, the guy seemed to break out of his daze for the very most part. The Dragonair left the slot machine, moving slowly in the guy's direction but with caution. He did not know how trigger happy this guy was, and was reluctant to be shot.

"...You have a reason for... doing... that, other than making a lot of noise?" was what he finally grumbled, not even looking Stark in the face. As he spoke, the guy fiddled with his gun, moving it up while the Dragonair's maroon gaze followed the movement sharply. Despite the precision of his eyes, the serpent's expression was friendly. A wide, lazy grin split his face as he brought his body close around him in a coil, lifting and dropping said coil in the show of a shrug. "It's been dead here for over twelve hours, nothing has been through here. Figured this was as good as a chance I'd ever have to play with a slot machine."

Stark gave a soft huff, more of a light laugh and drifting through the silent room. "Gotta take a break every once in a while, especially with these times." Cocking his head in a doglike fashion, Stark let his eyes flickering from the bloody Pokeball at his side to the hat he wore, both standing out against his militia uniform. "I'd take a spit in the dark and say that wouldn't be too horrible of an idea for you, too."

Much to Red's chagrin, the dragonair had a ready reply. "It's been dead here for over twelve hours, nothing has been through here. Figured this was as good as a chance I'd ever have to play with a slot machine." Well... Red couldn't quite argue with that, seeing as how he was so gobsmacked over the fact that the damn thing was gambling -with imaginary quarters, he could only guess, to go along with his imaginary electrics and prizes- in the fucking first place.

But the dragon took Red's silence as an opportunity to continue speaking; something that seemed quite natural to him. Great. Another pompous ass in love with his own voice. "Gotta take a break every once in a while, especially with these times." The dragonair cocked his head in an eerily canid fashion, its maroon eyes going to what Red could only guess was his waist. God, he hoped it was his waist. "I'd take a spit in the dark and say that wouldn't be too horrible of an idea for you, too."

Glancing down at his own stained uniform, he guessed that the dragon's question was geared toward that and... not his waist. "....Your point being...?" he growled back, his wits once more back about him. He didn't like the casual pleasantness of this snake... He was too calm. Too haughty. There was something up the dragon's (definitely not literal) sleeve and it was flaring Red's paranoia. He rose the barrel of his gun to more definitely point at the dragon, waiting for a small, insignificant reason to pull the trigger.

The human at least seemed to show some sort of emotion, his expression becoming less friendly as the conversation turned. Though Stark did not entirely enjoy the way his face soured. There was an unsettling sharpness to his eyes, the deep crimson in his gaze not unlike the corpses that wandered around alongside the living. "....Your point being...?" he growled in a low tone. Stark's friendly demeanor faded, his smile fading for the most part as he let his gaze hit the floor with a sigh. At least there was a spark of some sort of emotion in the human's eyes, unlike the infected. It was the lack of much else that worried him. Though Stark of all people had little reason to blame the guy. His entire being just screamed of something not right. "...Okay, yeah, maybe gambling wasn't the best idea, but at lea-" The Dragonair cut off abruptly, not even bothering to gasp when he glanced up back to the human. He was met with the same hardened eyes behind a gun he could not name...the barrel pointed right at himself.

Though it was not a question of if it was indeed pointed at himself, the human was not actively aiming to shoot him. Though something told Stark that maybe he was indeed trigger happy, a rather unfortunate development for him in particular. He did not move after looking up to see the gun, his entire body grew very still in fact, save for his jaw that grew slack as he wracked his mind for the correct course of action to take with his words. "Whoa, whoa there buddy. I'm not infected," was the route Stark decided on, his tone no longer light but not hostile as he watched the weapon sharply. "I assure you I'm not. You would be able to see a wound." as he stated his case, the serpent slowly uncoiled his body from behind him, laying out his entire neck, torso, and tail at an angle behind him. After a few seconds he rolled his long tail over, exposing his underside before sitting properly again, the entire time his eyes did not waver from the gun.

To say the Dragonair was no fool would have been an insulting understatement. The only thing he could remain hopeful for would be that his protect would be quicker than the man's scope. Though it was, the unfortunate truth was that the protection would only be temporary, and Stark was very much against being at that time. Or. Ever. For that matter. "...My name is Stark. Look buddy, did I do something wrong? I would much prefer to avoid being shot." He had not seen a human in years, though he would have relished the opportunity to talk and learn about what direction their militia went- going by his uniform, this guy would probably know- but that did not seem a possibility as his eyes dulled over from the lost opportunity. He continued slowly, asking in the same low but cautious tone. "What is it you want?"

The dragonair's aloof jovial nature seemed to extinguish a bit as Red's tone grew darker, which satisfied the soldier a bit. Even before all of this, pompous jokers tended to just get on his nerves-- now, they were outright intolerable. "...Okay, yeah, maybe gambling wasn't the best idea, but at lea-" The dragon's sentence quickly stopped as he finally saw the barrel of Red's gun staring very adamantly at him. The dragon paused a moment, likely trying to decide what sort of reaction would get him out of the situation alive, when he finally continued.

"Whoa, whoa there buddy. I'm not infected," he said cautiously, body language still stiff. Red's eyes didn't once abandon the dragonair's form-- watching every movement, analyzing the color of every scale. Since he was staring so intently, however, Red didn't make an effort to reply. "I assure you I'm not. You would be able to see a wound." The dragonair then slowly uncurled his coils, allowing the paranoid soldier to make sure he wasn't "lying". After his strangely elegant weird show, he settled back into a sitting position, still warily eying the gun. Though Red appreciated the fact that the dragonair was being so cooperative, he wasn't fully convinced, and the lack of change in his expression reflected that in full.

"...My name is Stark. Look buddy, did I do something wrong? I would much prefer to avoid being shot." "Stark"? That was an... odd name for a dragonair. "What is it you want?"

Red took a moment to consider. Mostly, it was intel. He needed to know where he was, where to refill his supplies and how to get back to Kanto. But there was a more pressing matter to attend to first. Without either raising or lowering the gun, nor changing the hard glower he'd set upon the dragon, Red replied. "...Do you honestly think that you're uninfected simply because you have no wounds?" The question was spoken with not true condescension, but with wariness. The dragon seemed intelligent enough -especially for his species- but the fact that "Stark" could still be infected by way of exposure was a very real and threatening possibility. Red knew that dragons weren't as susceptible to the virus as most other types, but that didn't mean that it couldn't already have planted its horrible seed with the dragon. It would just take longer. And if he was infected, Red wouldn't hesitate to simply kill him. Hell, if he knew he could easily return to an almost infinite bounty of ammo and supplies, he'd blow the damned dragon away anyway. But now... that wasn't so much an option.

The fortunate part was that he did not have anything blemishing his clean scales, and thus was not immediately shot. Stark was not surprised that the guy did not lower his guard so easily. There was a very good reason he was still alive, especially considering the single Pokeball he had at his side but no one else around him. At least his inquiry was not completely brushed away, but the soldier's expression and demeanor did not change as he asked slowly, "...Do you honestly think that you're uninfected simply because you have no wounds?" He did not sound like it was a challenge, more...weary. But the Dragonair sighed softly again, not enjoying this part. He must not know the true extension of the infection. That was not something that was shared lightly, but Stark was nothing if not honest and to the point.

"I have not been bitten or scratched, no...but the virus is technically in every one, laying dormant. While I have yet to ever see a human reanimate and it is safe to assume they do not, Pokemon will regardless of how they died," he explained in a tired voice. As he spoke his eyes wondered from the gun, his thoughts turning within his head as it did whenever forced to consider the harsh truth. Frustration coloured his tone as his forehead furrowed, narrowing violet eyes. "The only way a Pokemon does not get up after death is with the severing of the brainstem, decapitation, or just a wound clean through the brain. A healthy Pokemon can remain untouched by it, but once the body ceases to function...there is nothing that can be done to prevent reanimation, barring severe injury to the brain." Gritting his teeth, the same hopeless feeling wrapped its ugly tendrils around his brain and ribs. He had thought over it a million times, and still the answer eluded him. The virus would survive forever. But what caused it? Who STARTED it? And why only Pokemon? Why did humans just die and stay dead? We are all fucked in the end, he thought, distracted from the human by the thoughts in his mind and questions he could not answer.

"I have not been bitten or scratched, no...but the virus is technically in every one, laying dormant. While I have yet to ever see a human reanimate and it is safe to assume they do not, Pokemon will regardless of how they died..." Red heaved a weary sigh. Yes. He knew all of this already; it had been mercilessly drilled into him at training, and then painfully learned through experience. He didn't recall otherwise healthy pokemon getting up after dying, but... then again, he usually didn't give them a chance. He glanced around their surroundings once more, making sure that they had the luxury of making conversation. And once more, he saw that they were still painfully alone.

Once the dragonair finished, Red glanced back down to him, taking in the dreary expression with little remark. At least the dragon knew they were completely hopeless. Staring down at Stark over the gun, his eyes dulled, he replied, "...Then you also know and understand that there is literally no advantage to keeping you alive, right?" Red's voice was as void of emotion as his eyes as he spoke, his soul draining from him. "You're just... a ticking bomb... like all the others." He raised his gun, looking at the dragon through the scope. Sure, the dragon was alive now, but in a matter or mere moments, that could all change.

"So tell me... 'Stark'... I'll only ask once:

"Why should I let you live?"

There was no reaction from the soldier as he spoke, though the Dragonair was beginning to grow accustomed to his lack thereof. The stupification from before just have truly only been a one of a kind thing. Pity. But when he spoke, the serpent turned slowly back around to meet his expression again, his maroon gaze hard as he stared boldly back into the eyes of man. "...Then you also know and understand that there is literally no advantage to keeping you alive, right?" Stark stiffened with indignation, clenching his jaws at the wording. "...That is a bold statement," he replied dryly.

"You're just... a ticking bomb... like all the others." It was then that his alarm bells went crazy, loud and demanding in his ears as a single crimson eye narrowed at him from behind a scope. If he had not been tense before, he sure as hell was at that moment. His own eyes half closed in frustration even as he prepared to curl his body up in a Protect technique. That was only a temporary bandage fix if he ever knew one.. not only would it last a minute or two max, he could not pull it off again for at least five or so minutes. Despite all of his effort, the Dragonair had not been able to replicate it rapidly in succession without a pure stroke of luck. Dammit...!

"So tell me... 'Stark'... I'll only ask once: why should I let you live?" He did not however expect a chance to defend himself. The hardness in his eyes had at least some explanation then, lighting up the human's mind if only slightly to the snake. He doesn't want to have to kill me. His mind's eye flickering to the sole, lone Pokeball he held. Stark was willing to bet that it did not hold anything inside of it. Determination hardened his expression. "...I am useful, much as that might not seem possible," he growled, though not in aggression, his nerves being frayed by the gun pointed at his head would make anyone unhappy. "I came here on purpose. This is Realgam Tower, where Cipher worked to implement their Shadow Pokemon scheme. There are laboratories here, and I know how they work. I can read and work machinery, hack as well as start them up. Hell, you even saw the slot machine, so you know I'm not bluffing."

Hesitating, he figured there was no real harm in continuing. "There obviously is no shared cure yet, otherwise there would at least be attempts at distribution. But if I can find clues... I don't think the Shadow Pokemon strain is completely unrelated. Even if it is, there are similarities in behavior, so there has to be some way to connect the two."

Red felt a little more at ease when the dragon managed to keep his composure relatively intact as the gun stared him down. Not many pokemon did-- they would cry, blubber and weep, plead for mercy or just outright attack or run. But not this one. And while Red felt a little compelled to respect the dragon's mental fortitude, he denied the emotion. The fact that this "Stark" was so formidable in the face of immediate danger and very possible death meant he was also confident in his own abilities. Confidence meant power. Power meant trouble. "...I am useful, much as that might not seem possible," Stark began in a low voice, likely to hide any unease. "I came here on purpose. This is Realgam Tower, where Cipher worked to implement their Shadow Pokemon scheme. There are laboratories here, and I know how they work. I can read and work machinery, hack as well as start them up. Hell, you even saw the slot machine, so you know I'm not bluffing."

Realgam? Red knew the name, but he couldn't place from where. Briefing? Probably... His eyes narrowed not in hate or anger, but confusion. Shadow pokemon... Cipher... He'd certainly been briefed on them before, but that meant... he was in Orre? How the hell did he get to Orre?! And how the hell was he supposed to get back? "There obviously is no shared cure yet, otherwise there would at least be attempts at distribution. But if I can find clues... I don't think the Shadow Pokemon strain is completely unrelated. Even if it is, there are similarities in behavior, so there has to be some way to connect the two."

Red lowered the gun, satisfied enough with Stark's answer. He knew the perks of an electric pokemon, or one with those capabilities. He glanced to the mentioned machine; obviously, the dragon wasn't lying about electronics. Looked like the blue snake was keeping his life. "...You think you can find a cure?" Red asked, quirking a brow. Blaine, the madman who had created the most powerful pokemon to walk the Earth, hadn't even made much headway into a cure. Every scientific mind his own world had to offer was working for the same goal... and this dragonair thought it could do what literally thousands of people and other pokemon had been desperately trying to find? "You're optimistic... for a pokemon without hands," Red commented, lowering his gun completely.

Despite the tenseness of the conversation, there was confusion in the lad's eyes as he stared down the crosshairs at the Dragonair. Stark himself did not move, breathing slow and deep in the effort to keep calm in the face of the gun. He kept tense beneath his scales, though, in case he would be forced to charge up a Protect. But after a few seconds, the man actually moved his gun, lowering the barrel. A breathe of air came out of the Dragonair's nose, a sigh of relief as he proved his 'worth' so the soldier. He still felt tense, but Stark was able to lift his tail tip, waging it slowly back and forth similar like a cat, forcing his tail at least to relax as he waved it gently. "...You think you can find a cure?" the crimson eyed man finally asked, raising his eyebrow questioningly after glancing back to the slot machine. He had taken the right path after all. This human did indeed want the same thing he did. But Stark frowned at the inquiry, not expecting that connection. After a long sign, the serpent shook his head in defeat.

"...Much as I would like to believe in my abilities..I know it wouldn't be that simple. But.. I have to be able to find something here...!" He gritted his teeth in frustration, despising the lump of helplessness in his stomach. The man merely spoke bluntly, but lowered his gun to his side then. "You're optimistic... for a pokemon without hands." Stark actually barked out a humorless laugh, shaking his head once more. "You know, I actually have not heard that one." he admitted dryly, the situation of nearly losing his life bubbling over to infect his raging insecurity about finding the virus. He sobered quickly then, however, and glanced behind him to the open corridor that led down a hall and to a room of dozens of other rooms. They were once boarded off but had been left unattended and abandoned. "Though I cannot be too much farther off from evolution, that is hardly the point. I refuse to just sit here and accept that y death will be in vein. There will be something worthwhile to come of my death." Or else I would have only let my father down, he added silently.

Stark barked out a stale laugh at Red's comment as the latter took a few steps further into the game room, taking in the details more intimately. It looked like whatever struggle that had happened in here had ended long ago, leaving the room devoid of... anything, really. Broken machines, furniture... there were remnants of what was likely a barricade near the entrance. He let out a breath; looked like whoever tried standing their ground didn't stand there for very long.

Though Red was drifting in his own thoughts, Stark continued talking, bringing the former back to the conversation. "Though I cannot be too much farther off from evolution, that is hardly the point. I refuse to just sit here and accept that my death will be in vain. There will be something worthwhile to come of my death." The soldier turned to look at Stark, eyebrow quirked. It was odd, seeing so much bravado from a single pokemon. Then again, he didn't make a habit of talking to pokemon anymore... Maybe this was just how they were now? But the fact that Stark thought he could control his death just was funny to Red, and it made him give out a small scoff.


"...You are optimistic." He moved around some more, boredly checking some of the machines.
"So what all have you gone through? Have you checked any other rooms, or the stairs?"

The soldier seemed to become bored with the prospect of shooting the Dragonair quite rapidly, his sharp gaze flickering around the room before moving to one of the slot machines, what he was doing didn't really make sense to the Dragonair but he ignored it with a shrug. He'd much rather have the guy acting odd and touching neglected machinery than trying to put a bullet in his head. "...You are optimistic," he commented but Stark did not bother responding. Maybe he was, but he was a realist. He knew the odds of any sort of cure was slim to none. The best he could do was to try and pass on his knowledge to someone who could use it. Bored with the repeat of the conversation, Stark rolled his head to the side and raked his eyes over the rest of the room.

"So what all have you gone through?" he asked after a few seconds, bringing Stark's head to turn and stare at him, but at an awkward sideways angle and he blinked at him. "Have you checked any other rooms, or the stairs?" Stark blinked, not moving for a second. Turning his head around to be held correctly, he shook his head. "I've only flown in last night, after some checking out I took the rare opportunity to rest. I saw the colosseum above us, but only briefly. Though the stairs seemed fine from the air, I could be wrong."

"The rooms down in the tunnels are what I am really interested in, I think that would be where the actual laboratories would be...not in this vacation suite with slot machines and chandeliers." The Dragonair rolled his eyes at the stupidity of the two drastically different environments right next to each other but his eyes flickered to the human once again. "And ya gonna give me a name I should call you by, or would 'human' suffice for you?"

The Pikachu presses her back hard against the overturned desk, long ears dangling so not to peak over the top. What do I do, what do I do?? Oh gods Im going to die. Jaws parting to take in more air her labored breaths were clear to see with the rapid rise and fall of her fuzzy chest. Behind her the clumsy steps of an Arcanine sound through the room as it pushes over boxes and chairs without care in search of its prey. Tw-twenty feet.. The heavy grunts that made up its breath sent chills down her spine. With how pungent her fear scent was it would be over her in a matter of seconds. Body sliding to the ground the mouse curls into a ball, small fist pressed to her eyes. Im scared Nana.. Wet tears ooze between her small fingers and she sniffs. Im no survivor. A rough bark rings closer then she would of liked, paws covering her mouth to surpress a gasp.

The canine was blocking the only exit to the room. If by some miracle she was going to survive this she would either have to fight it or manage to slip past the hound. Neither of which semed likely.. She swallows hard, mouth and tonuge feeling as dry as sandpaper. A choking feeling tightens up her throat and panic dances in her green eyes. No no no no dont! Two yellow paws press hard against her mouth until her teeth are aching but it is no use: the Pikachu starts coughing uncontrollably and even her paws muffled chocking sounds. A growl is the signal and the drum of fast approaching paws tells her the hound knew her location. Seconds. There is no way now. Three seconds. Her paws cover her head, pressing her ears tight against her skull as she awaits her fate.

Another roar fills the air that sounds nothing like the Arcanine and is quickly followed by noisy clatter. Her chest is too tight to breath, too afraid of it being the last breath. It didnt attack? Tiny trembling paws grip tightly to the charm in her collar, its cold metal surface a sharp contrast to her hot pads. A cacophony of noise roars behind her along with a hard pounding against the ground. Dare I look? What horror could possibly be going on that was allowing her to still be alive at this moment? Shaking like mad the Pikachu tentatively places her hands on the lip of the desk and peaks her emerald gaze over it with ears down. Her heart skips a beat.
She shouldn't of looked.
Forest spheres widen to the size of saucers. She might of survived just the Arcanine but now there was an Exploud in the room! It bellowed unintelligent words at the hound who did the same back. Wha.. are they.. talking? It was only a mix of grunts, groans, and growls, nothing was really being exchanged until the Loud Noise Pokemon screamed so loud it hurt. The very air vibrated with agitation and sent objects flying away from the powerful undead. Even the heavy desk was no match for the Boomburst, tossing the Pikachu along as it shifted backward until she cried out. The cacophony stopped. The Arcanine had its fangs in the Normal Types arm now but both went rigid as they heard the squeals. In unison they dropped their attacks to move toward the desk and all hope faded from the Pikachus eyes.

Crash. The ceiling explodes above her as yet another undead comes in. The Archeops is cackling like mad and could clearing see her, swooping in with talons extended while debris and grit shower down around it. Chaos explodes. In a blink of an eye the Arcanine was diving for the Archeops while the Exploud charged forward to find the living. Pure terror and raw instinct overwhelm her and the Pikachu doesnt have time to think anymore. In a scuttle of paws Cinderspark dives to the right, barely avoiding the kick delivered to the desk, snapping it in half and sending splinters out on all sides. One arm shields her eyes as the wood chips stab at her pelt. RUN. Her body screams while she makes a beeline for the door. Like it be poor timing or on purpose the Legendary Pokemon kicks out with a hindpaw right when the Pikachu passes it, effectively kicking her painfully but closer to the door. There is only a moment for her to get to her paws, body aching and wanting to refuse, and start moving before all three Pokemon give chase. "I dont wanna play this game anymore! Stop the ride I wanna get off!" She wails in to the air, running full pelt down the hall to what was hopefully an escape.

Through the halls far from the chaos unfolding, a small cub hid in the shadows. A small, fluffy frame, the Luxio's body was crouched against the ground, her eyes focused and ears flat as her tail flickered behind her. After a few heart beats the cat then stiffened the long tail, silently scolding herself. Keep the tail still, keep silent. Otherwise you'll scare the prey. Fighting her urged to wiggle her rump, Easter stared from the shadows at her prize. For a few seconds she was motionless, pushing more power into her legs to prepare for the jump and killing blow. But her resolve faltered, her blue booty wiggling to the side just before she leaped. Her thick paws hit the mark and the kitten howled with triumph. With satisfaction she picked up a scrap of cloth, proudly strutting forward into the light with her kill.

It was a satisfying way to spend her time, and the Luxio smirked happily. Nothing could escape her! But the next instant a rush of chilling air shot through the hall from another part of the building and her bravery faltered. Dropping the scrap, she whimpered fearfully as her tail fell with her confidence. Wide white eyes stared through the dark, the dappled shadows of the area able to hide anything in their midst, and fear made her heart pound. "...shit, hope it's not coming this way," the youth muttered to herself, stepping forward cautiously. Back when she was younger, and not alone, she loved playing in the dark. Hiding in plain sight but unable to be detected, she felt like a ninja. But now it was tainted, her mind still flashing to the crimson grin and the maniacal crimson eyes, bright with madness. Her fur stood up at the memory, the horrible singing and laughter still echoing in her skull.

Shaking her head to rid of the echoes, the Luxio forced herself to walk forward. There were windows in the hallways, and most of the rooms, but most places they were few and far in between. The clear hanging crystals on the ceilings was probably what the humans relied on mostly for light. It hardly helped her then. Her tail sparks then, her eyes flashing golden as a jolt of electricity honed in on the chandelier. The intricate masterpiece responded by flickering, but the power was sloppy and uncontrolled. With a hot pop!, the bulbs exploded from being overcharged, and it died permanently. Cringing from her actions, Easter muttered, "So much for that idea." Sighing loudly, she turned and continued trotting down a hallway, choosing left because it felt right. Giggling to herself from the stupid joke, the crashes from deeper inside sounded faintly.

This place was familiar to them.
Contentedly the two snakes curl up against the cold ground, tucked away in a shady corner. This place was just like the lab they had escaped from, it smelt like humans and cold concrete. Golden eyes gleamed in the gloom. It had been a good hunt. Pokemon meat was delicious but nothing compared to that forbidden savory taste of human flesh.
Neither of them remembered how they had got to this place but Yuurei had said she smelt human. It had been a long time since they had last tasted human meat and the lingering memory of the soft taste sometimes haunted their serpentine dreams.
Yuuku's tongue flickered out. The air was nice, cold but not cold enough to slow them down. It was still and stale and scent lingered.
The branched heads uncurled. Long tongue flicked out to taste the air. A drop of near transparent venom drops from the tip of one pale tooth.
Against the scales of their underbelly is a faint quiver of motion through the ground. Something is coming this way.
The two start to move from their brief nap. Yuurei is shaken awake by the movement. Lazily she blinks, a milky white membrane slipping over her amber eyes.
"Something." Her brother says simply. Neither of them really had ears but the crash of something breaking in the corridors ahead carries through the ground.

Yuurei raises her head in the direction of the shaking and tastes the air with a swift flick of her tongue.
"Tastes familiar...But not the same." Yuurei hisses as her tongue licks the air.
"Tasty familiar?" Her brother hisses back.
Yuurei thinks and her tongue darts out again, licking at the air. The tiny quiver of movement is getting closer. Something is coming this way.
She wanted to eat.
"Not sure."
"I'll eat it then. Eat and make sure." Yuuku says, satisfied.
The hoods with their face like patterns of red and yellow extend outwards as they dash out with lightning speed. Their scales make a faint whispering rasp on the ground as their tail sways side to side.
They don't even bother checking to see what they've caught before Yuurei is lashing their tail around the other way to cut off its retreat. The air temperature drops by a few degrees as Yuuku's fangs extend with stabbing blades of ice.
"Die now!" He hisses as he prepares to bite down.
Yuurei skillfully manipulates the long coiled muscle of their body, trying to lash around and crush their prey until their bones splintered and their crushed body could fit neatly down her throat.

((OOC: Up to you as to whether they've found Cinder or Easter, either way any electrical shock will halt their attack))

"I've only flown in last night, after some checking out I took the rare opportunity to rest. I saw the colosseum above us, but only briefly. Though the stairs seemed fine from the air, I could be wrong." Red frowned; so he wasn't responsible for the lack of activity? He didn't like it when it was quiet without it being noisy first; something felt wrong. Though he knew that some pokemon were still cognitive and able to plan and sneak and all that, they were in Orre. The pokemon here should have already passed the "infection" stage and into true "undead", meaning all cognitive function is lost. So... what the hell was going on? He refused to believe that he just happened across the only actually safe building in the damned world.


"The rooms down in the tunnels are what I am really interested in, I think that would be where the actual laboratories would be...not in this vacation suite with slot machines and chandeliers." Though Red had been facing away from the Dragonair, he turned to him surprised. He tried asking himself where he'd gotten that kind of information, but the ding of the slot machine echoed in his mind as a sort of macabre reminder that he probably shouldn't pry. Nope. Not gonna ask. An aneurism wasn't worth the knowledge. Still, it was impressive enough. But Stark once more took advantage of Red's silence to speak more, because he hadn't done enough of that, apparently."And ya gonna give me a name I should call you by, or would 'human' suffice for you?"


"...Red," he admitted quietly, kneeling down to inspect a strange lump of what looked kinda like cloth. "...like the color." It was a common additive that he had to supplement in his old training days, as people apparently weren't often sure that yes, he was named after a damned color and the additive came out now purely out of habit. He poked at the mound with a nearby mostly clean wire, deciding that yes, this was once part of a body. But as he poked and prodded boredly at what was maybe a leg, the distant echoes of a struggle caused him to freeze immediately. He listened, determined that yes, it was coming closer, then sprang into action.

Grabbing his rifle and sprinting to the doorway, he saw what looked like a wall of teeth, blood and hell coming straight for them. At their lead was a pikac--

A...

A pikachu.

Eyes widening into saucers, he felt his heart freeze. The pikachu was healthy. Scared. Running. Healthy. Scared. Running.
Healthy.
Scared.
Running.

Healthy Scared Running Healthy Scared Running Healthy Scared Running
Healthy Scared Running Healthy Scared Running Healthy Scared Running
Healthy Scared Running Healthy Scared Running Healthy Scared Running
Healthy Scared Running Healthy Scared Running Healthy Scared Running
Healthy Scared Running Healthy Scared Running Healthy Scared Running


HEALTHY.


"GET DOWN!" he bellowed, going down to one knee and bringing up the rifle in one fluid motion. Frantic, desperate to destroy anything and everything that was trying to kill the pikachu before him, he opened fire. He didn't know if it was his or not-- it likely wasn't. After all, why would Pikachu be in Orre? But no rational thought could pierce the ferocious instinct to protect the little electric rat, no logic to stop the rampage. Each of his bullets found and stopped something in their tracks, leaving the corridor a stinking crimson mess. But as he fired, feathers and teeth swooped past, ripping the gun from his hands. Thankfully, he was armed to the teeth, and reached for another gun, but found the ancient dinosaur was too close for comfort to the dragonair.

"Stark!" he barked, not unlike a trainer's bark during battle, "Above you!" He turned back, to make sure the pikachu had at least made it. Of course, with more rational thought working in his favor, he could very clearly see that no... this wasn't his pikachu. Ignoring the feeling of the small fragment of hope that had managed to claw its way to the surface die, he glanced the rat up and down objectively. "... You ok?"

"...Red ...like the color," was the response Stark got, a pleasant surprise to the Dragonair. He had not actually expected that to work. This Red guy seemed to be less than open. But there was...something off. There were a string of trainers with colours for names, but something about the one, Red, seemed to slip his mind. It has been a while since I read those old stories, he allowed himself, but the name bugged him. Stark was sure that he knew something about this trainer. But for the time being, he was forced to admit it eluded him and just leave it at that. "Red. Right. Alright, well it would pro-" The serpent was cut off by the immediate crashes coming towards them and the single piercing cry, "I don't wanna play this game anymore! Stop the ride I wanna get off!"

Stark merely stared dumbfounded at the new development. But Red was already on top of it, the soldier down on one knee and shooting at the attackers. "GET DOWN!" he yellowed, already letting loose a barrage of bullets as a small yellow blur shot into he room. By then Stark had shaken his shock and launched into the air. The wings at his temples expanded in seconds with a flash of light as he took in the situation. After a few seconds it seemed that Red had disposed of the threats, but in that moment a large feathered reptile slammed into him, taking his gun with it's scaled foot. The soldier was quick to react, already having a gun out, but as Stark watched the Archeops disposed of the human weapon and was aiming right for the Dragonair. Instead of merely taking the risk, Stark was shocked to see Red not put the new gun up and risk hitting him, instead the man yelled out his name in warning. "Stark! Above you!"

Reacting swiftly, Stark curled up his body midair, his coils shining as he implemented a Protect. The undead screeched, ripping into the sphere, but once the shield started to dissipate, the Dragonair was prepared. Electricity danced around his tail and just as the Protect broke down, he slammed it into the dual type, causing the avian to screech again as it's body was left paralyzed. "Hope you like this," he grunted, using the few seconds he had to concentrate his power into the spike on hie forehead. A swirling mass built up, the power accumulating until he finally let it go, releasing a Dragon Pulse onto the Archeops. With a wet scream it's body was fried and disintegrated where he hit. It fell to the ground with a thump, one wing, shoulders, and it's head blackened mush. But before he could celebrate the victory, a sudden warm feeling came over Stark. His vision was compromised, forced to slam his maroon eyes shut against the unexpected blinding, but as the feeling of rejuvenated strength ran through his cols, the Dragonair howled with triumph.

"Mother!"

"Fuckin!"




"YES!"

As the evolution faded, the newly evolved Dragonite was left hovering in the air, a look of pure triumph on his face as he open grinned. Flexing his newly formed arms, he opened and closed his clawed hands and kicked out with one leg. "This is what I am talking about!" Slowly coming back down to the ground, Stark openly stumbled as he landed on newly formed legs, forced to one knee as he became used to the awkward body. "This will take come getting used to... Y-you okay little Pika?" he asked, panting from the exertion.

Four yellow paws scurried across a dirty floor so fast their owner near seemed to be to gliding. Nope nope nope nope NOPE! Panicked breaths refused her a chance to speak her thoughts. If the legends allowed for any other living to be nearby the Pikachu prayed the menagerie of noise behind her was enough to warn them of the oncoming danger. The Arcanines heat laden breath is hard on her heels and grizzled fangs snap at her already jagged tail. While her eyes are having trouble focusing in her sprint they notice something vital. The area ahead is opening up. Maybe there would be somewhere to hide or a small passage way to escape these large beasts. Against these odds it was her only shot. Squealing at the sudden touch of fire on her tail the rodent pushes herself to move faster, small heart pounding against her ribcage as another wave of fear washes over her.

The slim hallway widens into a large room with many dull machines in neat lines. Yes, yes she could use this to ditch the undead! The gore in here is completely ignored, normal in this day and age, but the living go unnoticed as the rodent darts in between a row of slot machines. The presence of those behind her does not leave and the Exploud even crashes straight through the machines to continue its chase. Panic flutters in her little heart. Racing down the lane the Pikachu stamps her paws down hard at the end of it to make a sharp right turn, praying that the Pokemon kept going instead of following her around. A completely foreign voice roars above the panic and the Pikachu doesnt have the mind to ignore it. "GET DOWN!"

Someone was here and just gave a command, hopefully to her. Too surprised to even look for its source she simply does as instructed. Amidst her turn Cinder dives forward to huddle against the ground but isnt of moldy carpet she is met with a bonk on the head. Green eyes squeezed shut so she can not see but the Pikachu feels herself go upside-down and fall on her back while the world spins. The small tripped-over trashcan had been forced upward and fallen back over by the disturbance, its soiled contents, cigarette butts, and other such objects suddenly disturbed for the first time in years. Degrading putrid mush shifts around and now clings to the Pikachu's yellow fur while a godawful scent is released. It hits her pallet relentlessly, instantly making the small Pokemons fur spike up and eyes burst into tears.

Curling into the smallest of balls while her body retched Cinderchu wished she could just die. The rancid sent that surrounded her was utterly sickening but was nothing compared to the clamor of loud bang bag bangs in her ears. What the hell was happening out there?? That didn't sound like any normal attack! What have I wandered into.. The sound is faintly familiar but she can not focus on it as she gags on the smell around her. She cant focus on anything with this repulsive scent wrecking her face...
The banging stops. The roars and chaos seem to settle and are replaced by voices. The retching is so bad she knows she will vomit if she stays and decides battle is better then that feeling. Crawling meekly from her hiding spot two long ears stand tall for any noises. As soon as she can stand Cinderchu gives her pelt a hard shake, tossing the foul substances aside and hopefully ridding their scents from her pelt. Its quiet.. "Y-you okay little Pika?" Flipping around quickly to meet the voice the Pikachu stares wide-eyed. How did she not see a Dragonite when she came in here! You missed something huge, ran right into danger to dolt! Focus, pay attention! Lessons past hit hard with a wall of shame and fear and she sets to rectifying the situation. Its light orange scales gave no sign of disease but its eyes... "... You ok?" She instantly stiffens. A second voice? No, thats the first voice. AND you didnt even check for dangers. This time her head moves slowly, an expression of disbelief swamping her visage. A human?! She.. they.. weren't they all dead? Blinking dumbly all Cinder can respond with is a twitch of her tail. Human. Trainer. Oh god trainer. Of course she didn't notice the Dragonite- the human hadn't summoned it until the undead arrived! No no no dont catch me oh please no. Her forepaws huddle close to her chest, ears falling low. Humans were bad, humans hated the little thief that she was and would try to catch her.. Taking a few cautious steps back the Pikachu sheepishly mutters, "I-Im o-o-okay.. t-thank y-y-you.." Her fuzzy rump bumps against a slot machine, snapping her into attention. Run. Cant run. Run. Dont panic. It was too late for that. Heart beating like mad and body shaking she stands like no more then a deer in headlights waiting to be attacked or caught.

It was so dull in the hallways. Just gloom and doom and boredom. Every few doors something different would show up, but in general it was just an old corridor, and when it forked off into more tunnels, it was even MORE hallways. The teenager sighed dramatically, trotting forward with her head tossed back to stare at the celling. There were faraway roars and scrapings on the interior, but nothing had come at her in a long time. She couldn't even recall how she got to the tower, her memory was fuzzed and blurry. Pausing at one of the random windows, she stared out at the landscape. With the sand whipping at the thick glass, the Luxio cringed, fairly certain she did not want to be out there in either case, and continued her trotting. She rounded a corner and saw one wall to a certain room had been crush, the entire side of the room decimated and debris strewn across the floor. Large concrete slabs and leftover glass shatters of the chandeliers smashed onto the floor, causing a hazardous environment for one with paws.  

Cringing once more, the Luxio leaped to one concrete block half crumbling away, then to the end of it, before pouncing back on the ground. Flicking her tail and lifting each paw in turn, she smirked. No glass! I can do this shit. Confidence restored, the youth continued on her way down the hall. But as the minutes passed, she found herself growing antsy. There was nothing new, there was no real change. Nothing had even attacked her in hours. Easter frowned. Was that a bad... Or a good thing? But her thoughts were interrupted by a soft hissing. Halting, the Luxio froze, perking her ears up. She did not recognise the sound... Her eyes narrowed. But suddenly two Arbok were lunging at her, one spitting, "Die now!" Alarm bloomed in her chest as the cat's pelt spiked up; she danced to the side, narrowly dodging the fangs if the first Arbok, but as a massive, muscled tail lashed out, Easter knew it was then or never.

Clawing violently with electricity sparking talons, she screeched from the attack but was knocked to the ground. Her heart pounded rapidly, already her limbs feeling the stress from the obviously stronger snakes. Outnumbered outnumbered outnumbered!! What do I do?! Easter's expression fell, growing desperate as she stared up at the two hooded faces, but her pelt sparked in her determination. Each hair on her body stood up individually, looking like a sea of needles as her eyes glowed bold yellow. A shock wave pulsated from her body, honed in on the dual Arbok without chance of missing. At least I'll hit one of them-!!

Yuuku hisses in irritation as his bite misses and the ice shatters against the ground.
He shakes his head and spreads his hood wider, the face like patterns intimidating and glaring. He hisses eerily, fangs gleaming in the light. His eyes are golden with pupils like scalpel lines of night.
Shaking the last fragments of frost from each long tooth a tiny drop of translucent venom oozes from the tiny pores.
Yuurei's lashing tail crashes down but their prey is faster than anticipated and leaps out of the way. The dragging coils fail to ensnare the cat-like thing.
Yuuku arches his head backwards and prepares to spit venom.
"Stop squirming!" He hisses and his meals eyes glow yellow.
A tingling electric pain runs through his body. He hisses as his body jolts out of control. He can feel his heart miss a beat.
He spits venom in a clear glistening stream that just misses his target of the blue lion's multi-colored eyes.
Instead it splatters the concrete harmlessly. The ribs of his hood fold inwards, deflating the intimidating display. In a panic he looks around at the empty corridor.

Yuurei whimpers at the electric pain. Their tail curls back, leaving the corridor unblocked. Her hood also shrinking she ducks under Yuuku's head.
"Bad!" She wails. "Bad spark stick."
She curls the tail around herself fearfully. The edges of her hood flare as she fearfully looks around.
"Did we do bad?" She asks her brother, flickering her tongue over the purple scales of Yuuku's neck.
Her amber eyes fix on the Luxio. Her tongue flickers out.
"What are you? Why the spark stick?" She hisses. "Why is it bad to eat you?"
The large snake looks down on the little Lion pokemon. It was blue and black and had pretty spiky fur.
Her tongue flickers out to taste its scent. Red things on its ears. Red white things and a collar.
With a condescending look Yuurei draws back. It was a special lab pokemon then. One of the ones that tasted like bad chemicals. They got a shock when they tried to eat those pokemon.
Bad.
They couldn't eat it and now they had to find something else.
"Let's go." She starts to move, pulling her brother with her.

The pikachu stared up at him in trepidation, acknowledging Red's question with only the flick of a tail. He knew that body language. He could almost guess whatever the pikachu was thinking or had to say just by looking at those big brown eyes, despite this particular pikachu -upon closer inspection- looking quite different from his own. Fluffy, sporting a green collar, strange cheek markings and a definite feminine sheen to her fur-- she was pretty much the opposite of his own; there was almost nothing remarkable about his own pikachu... But her tells were unmistakable: She was terrified, probably of them both, and his intense stare likely wasn't helping matters.

"I-Im o-o-okay.. t-thank y-y-you.." she finally managed, after both their queries, to which Red gave a silent nod and turned back toward the entrance, only pausing to stare a moment in mild surprise at the newly evolved dragonite that was currently getting used to limbs. Well, that hadn't taken long. He hadn't even noticed the giant dragon, much less the bright light that always accompanied evolution or... pretty much anything else other than the pikachu showing up. Christ, Red, get a hold of yourself... he admonished inwardly, shaking his head free of the chaotic emotions that had momentarily broken out. It was annoying and embarrassing he'd allowed himself to get so worked up over such a small, trivial encounter... It wasn't like he hadn't seen other fucking pikachu before now. Looking back to Stark, he mentioned quietly, "I'm going to check the hallway-- see if it's clear. Stay here with her."

Stepping over the body of the archeops -or what was left of it- he moved without another word into the hall, carefully scoping out the remains of the fight, rifle on point. As he stared down the decayed monstrosities as they finally lay at rest, he settled his frayed mind back down with the only thought that could:

Of course it hadn't been Pikachu.

It was never Pikachu.

And in all likelihood... it never would be.

Cold dead stare back firmly in place, he glanced over the two undead he'd put down. They were a little larger than he remembered those particular species being, but maybe his mind was just hazy. He'd had the luck of not running into either, as both pokemon were a hassle on their own, much less together. But it proved one thing: they weren't as alone as he'd originally thought. At least it won't be boring... Eyes flicking up to scan the now quiet hallway once more, that thought dimmed a bit. With how much noise they were making, perhaps there weren't many Undead after all. Pity. All the gunfire would have attracted a second wave by now.

He turned and headed back into the room, shrugging off the backpack from his shoulders to seek out his gun cleaning kit. His rifle was already steeped in chunky blood, and already sand was beginning to cling to it. Two bad signs already. Dismantling the rifle quickly and efficiently, he gave his small report without even looking up at the others. "Hallway's clear. Anything nearby would have already come for us because of all the noise." He glanced at the pikachu, his voice a fraction gentler-- as if he were subconsciously speaking to her alone. "So we're safe... for the time being."

Red eyes stared at her. They were just.. looking at her, no words being spoken while they scrutinized her small yellow form. Can humans get it? Does he have it? Reds not a normal color. Not normal. Whys it red. What. Her body wills the itching feeling of her skin away with a small shudder. Geez man, how did she always get herself into these situations? I swear Im.. not even worth battling.. Perhaps he noticed as the human walked away in silence. Letting out the breath she didn't even know she had been holding the Pikachu silently sighs in relief before gulping in lungfuls of air. I guess.. Im really not worth your time.. Disheartened instead of relieved a pair of green eyes follow the human as it mores away while her body slowly hunches so it may drop quickly onto four paws when possible. "I'm going to check the hallway-- see if it's clear. Stay here with her." Stay here with her. Stay here with her. Stay here with her. Shit, no! The panic alarms sing again and Cinder snaps back up. Oh gods why..

The human leaves without another word and only a few moments pass before her yellow body mechanically and stiffly shifts toward the Dragonite. Thats.. some watchdog for a little mouse.. Why was it to watch her? What use was she that the human or his pet? Making a few sidesteps away from the beast the Pikachu passes the edge of the slot machine. Though she probably wouldnt get a chance to use it at least she would have an open escape route. If nothing else her small size might offer some protection with all the small areas that a massive dragon couldn't fit in.

The Dragonite itself was behaving strangely, moving its limbs and body about in odd ways that only served to upset her further. What are you.. Testing its strength or warming up for ways to do me in? To play with its food? To.. to what?! Cinderspark swallows dryly, muscles tense as she finally gets herself to drop to all fours. Well, it er.. he, wouldn't get it without some sort of a fight! "D-dont you t-try anything!" She growls defensively, long-furred pelt fluffed up. "I.. I'll bite!" All bark and no bite the defiant Pikachu really had no idea what she would do if the dragon decided to attack her. Its scales alone were probably stronger then her, let alone her jaw.. Green eyes locked on its orange form Cinder makes very careful and slow movements toward the opposite end of the room. She hadn't come in that way, perhaps it was an exit! All four paws stop as her mind is slammed- It would attack before she even moved five feet. 'Stay here with her.' Yes, just keep moving away and provoke it why dont you, idiot! Sparks crackle lightly from her brown cheeks, uneasly. Im just asking for death at this point.. Though the Dragon Pokemon hadnt left her sight the Pikachus gaze was faltering, eyes unfocused and near peering past its massive orange shape. You need to be more careful..

At that same moment her long ears twitch, footsteps. She can not hesitate and now the dragon is lesser threat. Peeling her eyes off of it with more effort thens needed the mouse can see it is only the human returning and no more. "Hallway's clear. Anything nearby would have already come for us because of all the noise." It.. he, what? It looked at her again and she merely stares, trying to process the words being spoken, "So we're safe... for the time being." We're safe. We're. Did that include her? Did that mean she was under their care? Was she now part of this posse?? Questions swirl through her head like a massive whirlpool, too jumbled to make any decent distinctions. Safe.. The word manages to stand out, simple and actually comforting. The tiniest sounds of shifting play out behind her and Cinder can not forget the other presence in the room. "Can you," She tries to hide the desperation from her voice but can not from her eyes as she looks toward the human. Maybe she shouldnt ask, maybe this was a bad idea. It was too late to go back, "Can you maybe.. call off your Dragonite?" Going to hurt her or not its physical presence was enough to make her uncomfortable. The human had his scary guns after all.. he didn't need some dragon bodyguard out at all times.