(ACE) The BURNED Team

(Skip.)

"It fucking stinks in here.." The Luxio muttered in complaint to his new found companion. While not exactly having been around long enough to bond, she was a Mightyena and her name was Balthazar.

When Cold Stare had originally seen the dog, he had been excited. So relieved. The lion cub had been positive it would be his longtime friend. But the scar across the top of her head, as well as the sharp green eyes, had confirmed that this was not his Mightyena. Though Balthazar was not Mamba, he could not just tell her 'Hey, sorry, wrong dog,' and leave.

And so Cold Stare grumbled to himself at the top of ancient stairs. While he was stung over not finding his friend, it was nice to have someone to talk to. He had only run into the tall, charred tower to escape the crazy monsters outdoors.

What a horrible idea, go to Johto, where the virus STARTED, to escape the undead. Bloody brilliant move.

Scowling, the Luxio flicked his tail as he stared down the staircase. Half of the floor, both the one he was on and the one below, were nearly half missing, the past fire that fucked the tower had been close to tearing the damn thing down. Must have been a sucky fire to not even manage to bust it down after doing this much damage.

Cold Stare sighed. Why am I even here. "So, why are you hare?" he asked the Mightyena, glancing over his shoulder to the canine. His Boston accent distorted his words, but he had stopped caring if people could understand or not. "Meeting someone?"

It was impossible to sleep in Violet City. Just impossible. With Hannibal staring at her like an intrigued butcher wondering just what cut to harvest first, she couldn't stay there. Not with him. So, as the dead of night creeped, she'd left and wandered south. She knew she was capable enough to handle some Undead, but Hannibal? That was another fight entirely, one she wasn't completely convinced she'd survive, much less win.

The darkened forests felt as they always did; devoid of life, empty-- yet somehow still watching her every movement, waiting for an opportunity to strike. Sil paid little mind to it, however. It was how she traveled now, letting her hooves take her wherever they pleased.

She soon came across a ruined, bleak corpse of a town, its only discernible landmark a burnt tower that looked like it had already looked like shit even before the world ended. Curiously, though, there were two figures going toward it. She could hear the faintest echo of voices-- these were also survivors. Who would have thought? Ducking past some dead branches, she followed silently, not really caring that the two might not want to be followed.

They entered the tower, which caused her to pause for only a moment, if just to figure out how to get her rack through. Maneuvering easily enough, she continued to follow, her light hoofsteps a gentle tap that blended with the others' nails hitting the wooden floor. They made light conversation, to which Sil refrained from interjecting. She was already following them, like a creeper, now wasn't the time to reveal she was also eavesdropping.

He hadn't noticed the pigeon until the bird fluttered down from the beams overhead. Initially, the already tense blaziken freezes, his eyes racing after the swooping form. It's fear, the way it constantly attempts to shush the dragon-type...it becomes apparent that he is not one of them rather quickly. Breathing a calming sigh, Aaden tries to relax his feathers to their original positions. Glancing up at the bird as he continued to walk further into the tower, he notes it is following him as well. Regular ol' group, huh?

"Of course, we're basically sacks of blood. Thanks for reminding us, Sherlock! Could not have deduced that ourselves! Where do you propose we GO if not here?" Aaden lets out a snort. "It's Aaden wise guy. I'm heading further in. There's enough left of the building there to hide. But if you rather stay here with the dead bodies and whatever the hell is outside, go for it. You won't be hurting my feelings."

Too focused on his more obvious followers, the gentler sounds of hooves against the aging floor boards goes completely unnoticed. Carefully skirting a rather large hole he keeps true to his word and heads further from the entrance and towards a staircase that looks just about as well kept up as the rest of the shell of a building. This building really was something, half of everything seemed to be missing, but compared to the rest of the town, it held up well.

“But I saw that Haxorus run for the hills and didn't know if anyone was still alive. I had to take a chance... I've been living and surviving alone for months, gouging out the trunks of trees to make shelters... it's been rough, but I'm glad to at least be in some form of group again... strength in numbers, you know?” The blaziken nods slowly, considering the sentiment. Somethings were easier done alone, but fighting those creatures weren't on that list for him.Even if being in a group again was a lot like... "It happens kid, but now we gotta keep it quieter in the future."

Noticing a dark figure brooding over the opening ancient staircase and behind them yet another more familiar canine. Aaden raises his arm and waves. "By the way, it ain't just us."


((ooc: Let me know if anything needs to be changed. Not sure if Aaden would know Cold Stare, but I know Balth and I agreed before to have Balth and Aaden be familiar with one another.))

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"It's Aaden wise guy," the Baziken said, to which the smaller bird responded, "I don't know about you, but I've got wings. And so far, the biggest threat I've seen is a fleeing Altaria, thank you." The smaller dragon sighed. It was already starting, seeds of distrust sprouting up between the players amongst him. This was bad. One wrong move and the whole group could fall to madness and massacre.

“My apologies, Aaden,” he said softly, “it's my first time being back around non-infected Pokemon in well over... almost three months now. I'm not particularly versed in social conversations and such.” They kept going, so far no one getting jumped or attacked. This was going to be a rough time, but Zandros had been through worse. His tattered red scarf reminded him of that every time he saw or touched it. It still held VERY bad memories.

[color:95f1=ffcc66]"That's debatable. In this world there is no safety. None. Even as a group, one of us could be a bleeding infected and we're none the wiser until they've gone completely mad," the so-far-unnamed Tranquil had said. shortly thereafter plucking feathers from his chest to inspect himself. This one seemed neurotic and jumpy.

“And, no offense Mr Tranquil,” he said, retaining his softer tone, “But my attempt at conversation is simply that. I've been isolated for a long time, so I don't know how to talk to people so well any more. I'm trying to reteach myself.”

And then, he said it.

"By the way, it ain't just us," Aaden said.

THAT did it. He'd been holding back his trained paranoia the entire time, but now the little Axew could no longer hold himelf in check. Zandros charged up a Dragon Rage but kept it held back in his throat, making sure he'd be ready to blast whatever dropped in on them the second he saw it. He tried to say something, but it came out a crackling, garbled mess of gurgling grunts due to the energy built in his throat. It was... almost comical.

This tower reeked of death, and blood, and somehow of a fire that had happened countless years ago. Balthazar  walked steadily, but she wasn't really paying attention to the material world around her. The stench of the tower...it took her back to that day, when Iris' screams had filled her ears, and the sounds of her nieces and nephews dying were like a chorus of the damned. The endless flames, burning away the only thing that had kept her mind anchored to some semblance of stability. Youre the one who's damned, Balthazar. Where were you? Where were you when they burned? Why didn't you save them?

"It fucking stinks in here.." The voice of her companion was enough to jar Balthazar from the memories; she'd only met the dark-furred Luxio today, but Cold Stare made for decent company. Her other companion was yet to be seen, and being alone with her thoughts was crippling. She could not be weak again. You were weak before, look where it got you. Balthazar stopped at the top of the staircase, her face still a mask devoid of emotion.

"So, why are you hare?" Cold Stare asked, looking back at her. Balthazar was not accustomed to his unfamiliar accent, but she didn't comment on it; he was able to be understood, after all. "Meeting someone?"

On-point as ever, kid. Balthazar's response is cut short by the arrival of the Pokemon she actually was meeting-and the Blaziken wasn't alone. She gives him a single nod of acknowledgement, before diverting her attention to Cold Stare once more.
"I was meeting him, yes, but that didn't include the other two," she says, her gaze going towards the Tranquil and Axew. Mistrust is already building in her chest-she didn't miss the former's smartass response to Aaden-but she knows she can handle some bird and tiny dragon if they did something stupid. Her gaze hardens, and Balthazar trots forward slightly, looking from each Pokemon to the other-excluding Cold Stare.

"I see you brought Dumbass and Small Fry," she says to Aaden; the Blaziken she has no problem with, nor the Luxio, but these newcomers...that was a different story. The Axew appears to be attempting to talk, but it comes out sounding more like he was choking, earning him an extra glance from Balthazar.

"Might need to hit that one on the back before he coughs out a lung."

From his perch at the top of the stairs, the lion cub watched the larger canine turn to him, opening her mouth to reply to the question, but they were interrupted. Following Balthazar's sharp glance, Cold Stare saw a group of Pokemon, not expecting so many. A one armed Blaziken waved to them, earning an eyebrow raise from the cat. What an.. odd looking guy. A vest, and missing an arm? Shit musta sucked for him, was all he could think, his tail flicking to and fro before the Mightyena addressed him. "I was meeting him, yes, but that didn't include the other two," the curt female explained, earning a grunt of agreement from the Luxio.

The other two looked less than capable, the bird tearing out his own feathers and the Axew having an.. odd look on it's face. "The mo' the merrier," he commented sarcastically. Balthazar trotted forward, standing next to him at the top of the stairs as the trio approached, but Cold Stare's sharp eyes caught movement behind them. Ice blue eyes narrowed to slits. It was something... silverish? What the actual hell. It hid behind a pillar, out of his sight, making the cat frown.

"I see you brought Dumbass and Small Fry," Balthazar comments, earning a not-very-quiet snort from the male.

"Perfect," he snickered.

However, it seemed the Axew was trying to communicate, earning an alarmed flare of the cat's long fur as he stared with half concerned, half what-the-fuck eyes at the dragon type. "Is it dying?" He blurted out, only half serious.

"Might need to hit that one on the back before he coughs out a lung."

Cold Stare rolls his eyes, agreeing with the dog. "I ain't gonna carry 'im if they pass the fuck out on us," he warns, before sobering up. "Balthazar-- I saw something moving in the back," he tells her in a hushed tone. "It wasn't purple, and no glowing eyes, but that don't mean it's friendly."

[ ooc: lemme know if you didnt want her seen, sil aha AND I HAVE TO MAKE THE JOKE EVERYTIME IM NOT EVEN SORRY ]

Sil thought for a moment that she'd been spotted, but the lack cat thing waiting at the top of the stairs seemed to disregard whatever it had seen of her. She let out a small sigh of relief as she watched the Mightyena continue toward her friend, and they spoke of things Sil didn't understand. She could only glean that there were two other pokemon around somewhere, maybe where the black cat was staring. She kept behind her pillar, watching from her safe distance. If the two up there got any bright ideas about coming back down, she had the headstart to maybe outrun them. It didn't escape her notice that they were two predatory pokemon.

But then the black cat lowered his voice and Sil's worry was piqued. Well, shit Sil, you've done it now... She took an unconscious step backward, the noise from her hoof snapping around her like a fucking firecracker. She tensed and watched, hoping that they didn't notice.

"Y'know, Daryl, I don' think we're in Hoenn n'more."

If Merle could've made a more obvious statement, Daryl wanted to hear it. The two massive hounds had taken shelter within the shade of a large tree next to a ruined house, avoiding the sunlight that their long, black coats of fur soaked up. No, they weren't in Hoenn anymore - everything about the landscape was different, and the sheer number of walkers around these days was astonishing. The brothers could barely get from one city to another without a whole horde to deal with on the way.

Daryl nodded, his sharp eyes fixed upon the burned ruins of a tower at the end of the street. "No shit, sherlock. Them walkers be a real problem here, too. This place is in much worse state than Hoenn was." He stood up and stretched out his front paws. "But we been here long 'nough. We oughta press on."

"Whatever you say, baby brother." Merle, the larger and older of the two Direyena, stepped forward to stand beside his sibling. "'Cept, where you thinkin' we should be pressin' on to? Another walker horde? Another god damn mountain or ocean sittin' right in front of where we wanna go?"

"How the hell do I know?!" Daryl's fur bristled as he shot a growl at his older brother. He couldn't stand how Merle always expected him to know exactly what he was doing and where they were going. He wasn't a fucking map with legs. Daryl reckoned it was about time Merle did something useful that didn't involve killing things.

"Chill ya balls, brother." Merle was being ... surprisingly calm, considering Daryl had just snapped at him. He was looking up towards the tower ruins. "We ain't alone here."

"What you sayin'?" Scoffing, Daryl followed Merle's gaze up towards the tower and squinted to see beyond the blaring sunlight filtering through the trees. He sucked in a small gasp as he noticed a green and white figure disappearing through its door. "Son of a bitch..."

"Well ain't that a surprise!" Merle trotted forward, his head and tail both held high jovially. "We ain't seen any breathers since them saps back at Meteor Falls."

Daryl followed his brother out into the street. It was true that the Pokemon they'd seen didn't look infected, but that didn't mean that it was friendly. Still, Merle seemed happy enough to have a new friend to play with. Used to letting his brother give introductions, he was not expecting a friendly welcome. "You wann' be careful, Merle," he warned. "The last thing we need is more trouble. We already got a shitload of walkers keepin' us on our paws."

"Yeah, and what'd we do? Kick their asses into next week. Don't worry, baby brother. Let ol' Merle do the talkin'."

"Can't wait," Daryl muttered under his breath as the two climbed the steps leading to the tower. The stench of decay, burnt wood and blood was staggering; Daryl didn't know why a group of survivors would want to hold up here in the first place.

Surely enough, the Pokemon they'd spotted came into their view - a Sawsbuck, by the looks of things. She appeared cautious of something further up the building, and this immediately riled up Daryl's instincts. The hound lowered himself to the ground, claws bared for any threats.

Merle, meanwhile, was oblivious to that fact. "Weeeeeeell well. Lookie here, Daryl. We got ourselves a straggler. And a mighty pretty one too." He slithered towards the Grass-type, grinning widely, his loud voice carrying itself high up into the walls.

Daryl flinched, wishing his brother had a mute button. "You speak any louder and they'll hear you in Kalos."

"Don't listen to that dummy," Merle smirked with a flick of his tail. "I just wanna make a good first impression, tha's all. You lost as well, sweetheart? Maybe y'all can give ol' Daryl here a kick up the ass for me, for strandin' us all the way out here."

"Y'better shut your mouth," Daryl growled, still on alert for any movement in the building. Even if he'd wanted to make the first move, Merle wouldn't have let him. He was better off skulking in the shadows, where creatures like him belonged.

Hearing his comment retorted by the tranquil again, the blaziken glances over his shoulder to the bird. Finding no purpose in continuing the petty argument with a stranger, the fire-type merely shakes his head and returns his focus to more important matters. “My apologies, Aaden,” The voice was soft, Aaden almost missed it. “it's my first time being back around non-infected Pokemon in well over... almost three months now. I'm not particularly versed in social conversations and such.” The bird gave a slight nod to the kid. "Don't sweat it kid. Just play it cool with my friends here and you'll be fine." He says quietly in return to the axew as they approach the luxio and mightyena.

"I see you brought Dumbass and Small Fry," Despite himself, the situation, the end of the world, everything, the blaziken can't help but grin the slightest bit. "Hell, Balthazar what can I say? I'm running a charity." As if on cue, following his playful comment Zandros begins to gurgle and grunt. "Might need to hit that one on the back before he coughs out a lung."  Playing it cool was blowing out the window.

Aaden rasps his knuckles against his feathered chest to clear his own throat before bending down to attempt to assist the "choking" axew. "Joke aside, I found them near the entrance. Some things extra nasty just finished bulldozing a group of 'mon there." "I ain't gonna carry 'im if they pass the fuck out on us," "He'll be fine." Aaden calls, turning to his other companions before shifting again back to the dragon-type and adding more quietly. "Take it easy kiddo. You're al'ight."

More hushed words, but this time, not from his beak. The dark luxio was whispering something to Balthazar. Something was off...He hadn't known the luxio for any amount of time, but the look on his face and the tone just didn't seem to fit. From his position, he couldn't see the strangers stalking them. Slowly, the fire-type gets back onto his feet, ears straining for a sound and he doesn't have to wait long. A solitary snap, like a hoof against a hard floor...coming from behind them.

Whipping around, the bird's blue eyes scour the charred building for the source of the sound. His wrists itching to combust with his rush of adrenaline and simply the thought of a fight. "Come out now. Nice and slow, don't wanna do anything anybody will regret."

"Weeeeeeell well. Lookie here, Daryl. We got ourselves a straggler. And a mighty pretty one too." A loud voice echos back to him. Farther than he'd thought, but boisterous enough to carry through the roof. Of every thought he had racing through his mind of what would happen next, this wasn't it. The phrase didn't fit...what stalker responds with that? "I just wanna make a good first impression, tha's all. You lost as well, sweetheart? Maybe y'all can give ol' Daryl here a kick up the ass for me, for strandin' us all the way out here." Involuntarily the blaziken's feathers fluff to twice their height.

Anger and frustration fuel the bird to march forward, cracking each hand in the other as he approaches the voices. What kind of game was this? How many 'mon were just--dicking around in the shadows behind them? "What kind of game you playing at son? You're out-numbered, I ain't none of us sweethearts, but I'm pretty damn good at kicking." Muscles tense, Aaden continues cautiously forward. "Show yourselves."


((ooc: Changed the time, figured it's been morning for a while.))

He didn't take to being ignored very well, but there was seldom he could do about it. Any more out of his beak and it might be the last thing he said before he was used as undead bait. Oh wait--he wasn't being completely ignored, thank Arceus. “And, no offense Mr Tranquil,” he heard the Axew say softly, “But my attempt at conversation is simply that. I've been isolated for a long time, so I don't know how to talk --" around this point, he stopped listening and started preening his muck covered feathers. Arches be blessed he needed a bath something awful.

"Archimedes," he replied to a question no one in particular asked. "My name is Archimedes. Forgive my jumpy nature, you surely undestand my reasoning for it though in these trying times." As the group travelled along, he flitted from rafter to rafter, pausing only when the blaziken did. He pulled his feathers close to himself as the Mighteyena appeared, fidgeting as it slunk towards their group of living. And then it spoke.

"I see you brought Dumbass and Small Fry," he remarked, looking to himself and the Axew. Was she calling him a dumbass? Oh now that was just too low a blow. He puffed up angrily and fluttered down in front of her, a deep coo replacing what would've been a growl if he was actually, you know, intimidating.

"Dumbass?! You've only just laid your eyes on me and that's the description for me you choose?!" His feathers flattened a bit and he took a hop back, holding his head up proudly. "....Well I suppose I can't be upset with such language from _uneducated swine_ such as yourselves. You don't know any better insults rhen dear? Hm?  Perhaps call me a moron too?"

It was a beautiful day.

Warm thermals floated upward, obedient to His whims and wills, filling His six full wings with air to keep Him effortlessly aloft. Wide unblinking eyes scanned the world -His world- that sprawled beneath Volcarona as His figure cast a shadow down below. He had flown for some time, but it didn't matter. No matter how many oceans or continents He crossed, they were all His domain, regardless. His tool, the sun, shone down upon it all, revealing all the secrets He needed to know. The plants reached for His glory with their pawing leaves, the water glistened and basked in His greatness, attempting to give tribute to Him by reflecting a portion of His magnificence back at Him. Those with legs scurried in haste from His sight, lest they burn in the wake of His fury.

He was the sun. And every bit of life quivered at His very presence.

But as He circled around some other useless ruin of a city, something caught His divine gaze. A speck of green bolted out of a long-burned building and began shouting something. On a whim, Volcarona decided that perhaps it was time to grant another lucky, undeserving mortal His radiant appearance. Soaring down, commanding the wind around Him with expert ease, He soon found the small thing to be a tiny dragonling, throwing insults and curses like an inept monkey throwing feces. He drew near, near enough to hover over a few feet from the ground to stare down at the insect closer.

"G-Get out of here, you damned monster!" it shouted valiantly, stupidly at the heavens, to Volcarona Himself, who stared with glassy, perfect sapphire orbs. "I won't let you come a step closer!" Volcarona Himself was unmoved by such inane ferocity, as the mewling squeals of a stuck pig did little to move the deity. But while the "insults" and "threats" did nothing to wound Volcarona's dignity or pride, there was the matter that no one who made the grave mistake of vomiting such refuse to His own face ever survived. Mortals had the worst memory-- it seemed He needed to remind them of His divinity.

Gladly.

Flaring magnificent wings, He dipped His horned head only slightly as He built the attack within Himself, His entire body soon thrumming with vibrant power. His wings shivered, His fur stood on end and too late the dragon learned its mistake. It stood frozen as Volcarona wordlessly stared unblinkingly down at it, hypnotizing the lesser filth with His immortal gaze. His focus strengthened as the air around them heated more and more, but the dragon found itself paralyzed with fear. Sweat poured from its scaly skin, its limbs trembled with terror and yet it could not move. It could not release itself from the hold Volcarona had captured it in, because this little ant could not, and could never, rival the power of a god.

Oh yes, it would die. It would die for its ignorance and its arrogance. But Volcarona would not touch this kill, no-- the insignificant trash did not deserve His divine touch.

By the time Volcarona was done with this repulsive parasite, it would worship Him.

The fire wreathed around them in a beautiful dance as Volcarona continued to focus His power into the small, stupid creature before Him. The child's eyes watered and began to expand before bursting from the heat, red clouds of evaporating blood staining the air. Cries for mercy filled the air only to be drowned out by the primal roar His hungry fire bellowed and belched. No. There would be no mercy. There was never mercy.

Its screams and quails were soon halted by its boiling body fluids; red smoke began to pour from its useless orifices. Skin peeled back to reveal bubbling, popping fat and sinew. And in the heat, the magnificent, perfect heat of His godhood, the insignificant waste quickly crumpled and cracked into little more than charred, sizzling meat. Its body withered like paper in His fire, as everything did.

Volcarona did not care why the small, stupid dragon had come to drive Him off. Such trivial matters hardly befit a god. But it had come and begged for death, running its wide, drooling maw with useless insults and threats. And that was simply never tolerated. Satisfied, Volcarona merely heaved His grand body upward, back into His sky and to rejoin His sun, leaving the rest of the town and its denizens to their own devices. There was still so much world left to worship Him.

It was a beautiful day.

(skip)

(skip, was relying on Balth, sorry **)

"Weeeeeeell well. Lookie here, Daryl. We got ourselves a straggler. And a mighty pretty one too." Sil's hackles stood immediately on end, her antlered head whirling around to see two very dangerous-looking pokemon slinking around behind her. She backed up a couple of steps, but knew that the walls would keep her trapped, since they were blocking the only exit she could see. Heart racing, she tried keeping her composure calm. Handling one psychotic, emaciated, muzzled Houndoom was one thing: two well-fit saber-toothed things were another. Though the first strode forward proudly, the other, "Daryl", seemed far more wary. "You speak any louder and they'll hear you in Kalos."

"Don't listen to that dummy," The first soothed, his demeanor all suave and confidence. It was odd now, even as Sil's hackles continued to rise along her entire back, seeing a pokemon act like that. Her mind went to Hannibal, for whatever reason. She could only imagine the Houndoom being nothing but disgusted with the male, and maybe it was the fact they could kill and eat her in a heartbeat, but it was super funny to think about. "I just wanna make a good first impression, tha's all. You lost as well, sweetheart? Maybe y'all can give ol' Daryl here a kick up the ass for me, for strandin' us all the way out here." Sil frowned a little. "Sweetheart"? For some reason, that just sounded oogy.

"Y'better shut your mouth," Daryl growled again, but it seemed it was too late-- the pokemon she'd been spying on earlier, or more pokemon that were further ahead, caught the noise the loudmouth was making. "Too late..."

"What kind of game you playing at son? You're out-numbered, I ain't none of us sweethearts, but I'm pretty damn good at kicking." Sil's head snapped back toward the stairs, a Blaziken glaring down at them, but she guessed unable to see them. "Show yourselves."

She looked back at the twin males, gauging what she should do. On the one hand, these two weren't hostile toward her. A little creepy, but overall friendly. That was all she had. The fire-type ahead might not be so gracious, and also had the type advantage on her. Her mind set, she backed closer to the boys. "Tell you what-- I'll kick whoever you want as long as you keep me the fuck alive," she whispered harshly, watching the male for a reaction.

((So, I'm guessing the Axew just kinda... went past them and got exploded?))

In Ecruteak there lay the decaying husks of buildings and Pokemon, both long since empty and dead as they rotted away slowly, The Midday Sun shining brightly over the ruined landscape. A dark, fleeting shadow moved over the bare ground, despite there being no apparent source for the darkness. Out from the puddle of shade emerged part of a grey tri-horned head, turning all around looking to and fro for any sigh of movement with dichromatic eyes. "Hmm! Looks like the coast is clear." Jumping out suddenly with a spring, the grinning ghost leapt back into the physical plane and landed noiselessly on the ground, save for the soft chime of a bell. Arching her back and bending her knees, the spirit stretched while she enjoyed standing on solid ground. After finishing her mild exercise, The Possessed Plush stood up straight and briskly walked towards the hulking form of a destroyed human base, curiosity drawing her towards it. Stress, she sensed it, pricked on her horns and made her stop in her tracks. Most likely the only creatures that could have that were sentient? Cocking her head a bit, she tried to better decipher the emotions but gave up quickly. "Nyeah I lost the nack for that years ago. Better just go see what's up." Rotating on her feet she strolled over to the sense of the feelings, head bobbing to the random tune of her bell.

As she moved along her gaze was caught by the sight of a burnt tower, and glancing around she also noticed a path on the ground that had also been set ablaze. Though not presumably by the same fire, as there were still burning embers on the ground, the tower having no flicker of flame anywhere from where Twilight could see. Murmuring in mild apprehension she continued on her way. As she drew closer she could hear voices, intelligent (though not particularly so) and out of habit the ghost slipped back into the shadows, sneaking over to a concealed place to view. Hiding behind a ledge she returned, peering around a large fallen stone and watched in contemplation. The Banette identified several groups of Pokemon, A Blaziken with a Tranquil, and a pair of Mightyena with an oddly colored Sawsbuck, and another Mightyena with a darkly colored Luxio. Seven Pokemon, all save for one with a resistance or downright immunity to her attacks, at least two of them acting like thugs. 'Shit. Better not pick any fights then.' Turning around and laying her back on the fallen stone, Twilight pondered her options, zipper mouth pulled downwards into a worried frown. Since she's a ghost, and a weird one at that, it could be expected that she'd get a less than friendly welcome if she decided to spring out all of a sudden. Rising up from the shadows wouldn't be popular either, and stalking them like a weirdo was straight out. "Fuck." Uttering the curse aloud, and fairly loudly, she came to the conclusion that'd she'd just have to try her luck. Getting up and poking her head around her hiding place, eyes narrowed warily, she called out to them before they tried to find the voice themselves. "Uh, Hey. What's going on?" Worst comes to worse, she could disappear back into the shadows before they approached to attack her.

((Considering I haven't RPd this character in 2 years I feel pretty satisfied with this post.))

The doe was cautious, looking at the brothers with apprehension. Merle slithered around her, head held high with a swagger in his step. Daryl shook his head at the larger Direyena; that son of a bitch was enjoying every second of that Sawsbuck's unease. All he could do was hope that Merle didn't have some sort of brainwave and go from cool and suave one minute to mad murderer the next. It was his brother's unpredictability that truly kept Daryl on his paws; the undead were just a nuisance in comparison.

"What kind of game you playing at son?" a voice suddenly called from within the tower. Daryl lowered himself down to the ground, ready to attack if necessary. "You're out-numbered, I ain't none of us sweethearts, but I'm pretty damn good at kicking."

"You point any o' those legs at me and I'll chew 'em right off, buddy boy," Merle hollered back joyously. Daryl, feeling it was about time he stepped in, stood up and approached the entrance to the tower, albeit very cautiously. He poked his head around the door to spot a Blaziken on the alert.

"Show yourselves." He wasn't a walker, or at least not attempting to tear their faces off. Maybe Daryl could get him to calm down before Merle opened his mouth again. Hopefully he wouldn't mistake him for a walker and attack.

"Tell you what-- I'll kick whoever you want as long as you keep me the fuck alive," the doe cried, obviously spooked by the Blaziken's presence as well. Things were quickly heating up, and Daryl didn't like it. Mistakes were made when tensions got too high. He needed to fix that, although he doubted that Merle's quip about chewing legs off hadn't helped to calm the Fire-type down.

"Now let's all calm down," he announced loudly, praying that Merle wouldn't think to contradict that in any way. A backward glance at his brother confirmed that he was still prancing around the Sawsbuck, a wicked grin on his face. "We ain't undead, we ain't infected and we ain't here for any trouble." He slowly stepped into the Blaziken's full view, keeping his body low and his ears flat; a sign of submission. Hopefully the dual-type would understand; Daryl didn't want to attack should he turn hostile. "We're just lookin' for our barings, that's all."

"You point any o' those legs at me and I'll chew 'em right off, buddy boy," The blaziken's eyes pin at the threat and focus in the direction of the source. His clawed fingers flex as his wrists itch to combust. The itch only growing stronger as the fighting-type forces his tense legs to carry him closer. Each step is taken with caution, so focused on the louder dark-types' voices that the Sawbuck's words don't reach his ears inbetween. "Now let's all calm down,"

Confused by the change of heart, Aaden stops, waiting to hear more from the hidden 'mon. The thinnest wisps of smoke rising from his wrists during the pause in anticipation and his hands clenched into fists to stall their fidgeting. "We ain't undead, we ain't infected and we ain't here for any trouble." A shadow shifts from the direction of the voices and it's not long after that a figure slinks into the light. This type...he had never seen before...reminiscent of a mightyena, but more feral in appearance. For a split second it crosses the bird's mind that the piercing red eyes from the dark-furred canine were not too different from an infected's. However, he silences those initial fears.

"We're just lookin' for our barings, that's all." A infected would not speak like this. The more he examines the revealed pokemon the more his tension ebbs. Whatever this was wasn't looking for a fight. They kept their body low to the floor and Aaden watched as it approached into full view. "That right? You're currently at our tower. You got a pond full of undead to the east and a forest full of undead in every other direction." There was more of them yet...where were they...? Why hide when you're already found? An ambush--"Uh, Hey. What's going on?"

The wrong thought and unexpected voice at the wrong moment cause the fighting-type's tension to double, his wrists going ablaze. Distracted, his eyes snap up, meeting two brightly colored eyes in the darkness. Instinctively he leaps back and eyes trail back down to narrow at the canine in sight. "All of you--show yourselves! Whatever game you're setting up we're not playing it." His eyes dart from each direction he remembers hearing voices, flames circling his wrists adding a faint crackling to fill the silence.


(( ooc: I agree with Silverishness. To move plot a bit, I'm assuming the axew ran ahead somewhere to confront the harb. They can find his corpse later to incite some fear and whatnot. ))

"Hell, Balthazar what can I say? I'm running a charity." The comment, along with Cold Stare's reaction, almost brings a smirk to her face; damn, it was nice having survivors around that didn't take offense to every word she said. Dumbass, however, was significantly less pleased, and had the audacity to go up to her and attempt to look threatening. Oh, she was just trembling in her boots; truly this tiny bird that she could kill in a span of a few seconds was not a foe to be messed with. Give me a fucking break. Let's see how well Dumbass would've handled nearly being burned alive. Then he wouldn't have been so quick to speak.

Dumbass?! You've only just laid eyes on me and that's the description for me you choose?!" The bird then proceeded to turn up his chin-beak, whatever-at her, earning a scoff from Balthazar. How the fuck had this guy survive so long? It was some sick twist of fate that he had been allowed to live when so many who deserved life had died; Balthazar feels a smoldering anger rising in her gut as she thinks of how Dumbass had even outlived Iris.
...Well I suppose I can't be upset with such language from _uneducated swine_ such as yourselves. You don't know any better insults then dear? Hm? Perhaps call me a moron too?" Oh, this one was just too easy to mock. Uneducated swine? Balthazar could've laughed in his face, if she didn't despise the sound.

"Hear that, Cold Stare? We've got ourselves some high-brow trash here." Balthazar looks at "Archimedes" with little but contempt. If only it just been Aaden and Cold Stare; she didn't feel like killing them, at least. They were good company, and not pompous asses. "If you feel like getting your feathers ripped off one by one when I throw you to the undead, go ahead and keep up with that smug attitude."

Balthazar's ears perk up as she catches other sounds, ones that distract her from the Flying-type. There was a sharp sound, as if someone had slammed their foot against the ground...fuck. That did not mean good things were in store for them.
"Balthazar--I saw something moving in the back," Cold Stare tells her, and immediately she tenses, thinking of how many other things could be lingering in the tower. This was no time to be dicking around, they had to move. "It wasn't purple, and no glowing eyes, but that don't mean it's friendly."

"Goddamn right." Balthazar sees that Aaden hasn't missed the sound either; good, that meant the two who weren't morons were on the same page as her now. She was itching to find whatever was lurking in the shadows and tear its damn throat out. Things fucking with her head...it was getting old fast.

"Weeeeeeell well. Lookie here, Daryl. We got ourselves a straggler. And a mighty pretty one too." She bares her teeth as the obnoxious voice reaches her ears. Who the fuck was that one talking to anyways? Balthazar did not like the tone and there was no way in hell she was going to just sit back and do nothing. Going to where Aaden and whoever else were, she was ready to tear apart anyone who was stupid enough to try and attack. But apparently it hadn't come to that yet. Or at least, nobody was lying on the floor dead; the hostilities were far from over.

"Now let's all calm down," a different voice said-great, just how many others were there around here? "We ain't undead, we ain't infected and we ain't here for trouble." The creature that left the dark was...not what Balthazar had expected. She had seen only one other Direyena in her life, but this one was not Robb, and everything about his body language screamed "not hostile." But that didn't mean she had to trust him. "We're just lookin' for our barings, that's all."

"That right? You're currently at our tower. You got a pond full of undead to the east and a forest full of undead in every other direction."
"Long story short-everybody's fucked." Wasn't that a harsh truth? Balthazar knew how thoroughly screwed this entire region must be. No matter where they went, everything would be fucked. The only problem was, her damn stubborn self refused to give up and just die in the face of it all-no, she just had to keep going anyways. Even though there was really no reason to.

"Uh, hey. What's going on?" Yet another goddamn voice? Where were all these random strangers coming from? Balthazar is about to turn and tell the newcomer off, but Aaden beat her to the punchline with a reaction. He jumped back, wrists on fire-how she had missed how fucking on edge he was, Balthazar didn't understand. But things would go nowhere if everyone just kept freaking out like this.

"All of you--show yourselves! Whatever game you're setting up we're not playing it." This is not helping. Balthazar is sick of standing in one place-she had no intention of being surrounded by undead while they stood around bickering. Who knew what their loud voices had drawn out from the rest of the city? Maybe nobody else gave a damn but she did. Being eaten alive was not a priority, not yet, and these new Pokemon were making that difficult to avoid by the second.

"Look-all this standing around and yapping is doing fuck all to help us. I dunno about you guys, but setting up an ambush here would be the most idiotic idea I've heard all week." Balthazar looks at all who are in view, including the new one with the glowing eyes. "Unless we all wanna stand around until we rot, I suggest we actually start moving. I don't care who goes with who." The last statement is more directed at the newcomers than Cold Stare or Aaden-Balthazar couldn't give less of a fuck about all the rest.

The cat's eyes narrowed, becoming slits of cold blue in which gave him his namesake."Dumbass?! You've only just laid eyes on me and that's the description for me you choose?!" The bird was neurotic, it was stressful just watching him.
"Just shut up, shit," the lion cub groaned, rolling his eyes.

"...Well I suppose I can't be upset with such language from uneducated swine such as yourselves. You don't know any better insults then dear? Hm? Perhaps call me a moron too?" This was getting old so fast, most people back home were not even this bad.

"Hear that, Cold Stare?" Balthazar called back to him, earning a curious eyebrow rise from the cat. "We've got ourselves some high-brow trash here."
The Luxio could not hold back the unattractive snort that escaped him loudly after the statement. He quickly broke down to a soft weezing, snickering as he lowered his head, half pressing his forehead to the ground. "I was not fucking expecting that, give me a warning next time," he snickered.

"If you feel like getting your feathers ripped off one by one when I throw you to the undead, go ahead and keep up with that smug attitude," the Mightyena continued, and by then Cold Stare was composing himself, but quickly forgot about the stupid bird as it became clear that they were surrounded.

"Shit." The soft curse escaped his jaws, the electric type lifting his tail up behind him. If only he were a Luxray-- those things had natural X-ray vision. He would be able to find out what was waiting for them.

"Weeeeeeell well. Lookie here, Daryl. We got ourselves a straggler. And a mighty pretty one too." Both Cold Stare and Balthazar react to that, the dark type showing her teeth while his claws slide out to grip the old, charred wood that composed most of the tower. Though-- Straggler? Pretty? The cat narrowed his eyes further. Was the 'pretty' one the shimmery form he saw before? Balthazar took the lead, bounding down the staircase to join the rest of the group properly, but Cold Stare hesitated. He had a vantage point, and naturally good eyesight thanks to his species.

From far off, a slick, dark form emerged from the darkness like a ghost. Cold Stare did not remove his eyes from the dog as he spoke. "Now let's all calm down. We ain't undead, we ain't infected and we ain't here for trouble." The cat studied his frame, the long, shaggy fur, down to the long, curved horns that looked like they were not just for show. Cold Stare flicked his tail, scowling as he glared down towards the newcomer. "We're just lookin' for our barings, that's all."

The Blaziken took the lead, addressing the dog before he could. "That right? You're currently at our tower. You got a pond full of undead to the east and a forest full of undead in every other direction."
It was a good point. "Best watch your skin, dog," he growled.
"Long story short-everybody's fucked." Balthazar's addition brought a half smirk to his face. But then without warning, another voice rang out.

"Uh, hey. What's going on?" Cold Stare whipped around, darting forward to position himself several stairs down from the top. The Blaziken reacted too, somehow more on edge than the rest of them as his wrists lit up with fire.
"Who are you?" He demanded, harsher than he would have been. Four Pokemon showed up all at the same time. Between him, Balthazar, the Blaziken, and-- Cold Stare blinked. The bird. Where the fuck had the bird gone?! Come to think of it, where did the Axew end up?

"All of you--show yourselves! Whatever game you're setting up we're not playing it." He was really beginning to see why Balthazar had made an ally out of the fire type. Paranoia kept people alive. He trotted down the stairs further, stopping on the third from the bottom as the Mightyena took control.

"Look-all this standing around and yapping is doing fuck all to help us. I dunno about you guys, but setting up an ambush here would be the most idiotic idea I've heard all week. Unless we all wanna stand around until we rot, I suggest we actually start moving. I don't care who goes with who." She ended with looking at the others. Since the Mightyena did not look at him, Cold Stare took that as a sign that she wasn't telling him to piss off. Which was nice for once.

"Looks like High-brow Trash took you up on that," he growled. The cat finally stepped onto the ground floor, taking up a spot beside the dark type as he glared into the darkness, where the other canines were. Wait, two?! "It might be best that we don't start a fight here," he muttered to the two he stood by. We're outnumbered.

It looked like Daryl was the calmer, more level-headed of the two, Sil discovered, as he slowly emerged into the other pokemon's line of sight. "Now let's all calm down. We ain't undead, we ain't infected and we ain't here for trouble." The others remained quiet, but that didn't mean they weren't still hostile. "We're just lookin' for our bearings, that's all."

The blaziken was first to react, stepping forward like he was in charge. Whether or not he actually was, was a different matter entirely. "That right? You're currently at our tower. You got a pond full of undead to the east and a forest full of undead in every other direction." It was a good point, one that Sil was loathe to argue.

"Best watch your skin, dog," a black figure snapped beside him, only making Sil's unease worsen. "Long story short-everybody's fucked." a mightyena chimed from the black cat's side, his stupid smug smirk only succeeding in rubbing Sil the wrong way. Smug little shit...

"Uh, hey. What's going on?" A new voice decided to make itself known, much to everyone's chagrin. Where the fuck was everyone coming from? Not like Sil herself could really say anything, but still. She shifted her weight away from the grinning buffoon near her, whose attention was mostly on the others instead of herself. The black cat she'd followed leaped down a few stairs, already about to attack. "Who are you?"

"All of you--show yourselves! Whatever game you're setting up we're not playing it." Sil glowered up at him, unsure whether or not he'd seen her. Either way, however, the two male dogs had, and she somehow doubted at least one of them would be so willing to let her off the hook.

"Look-all this standing around and yapping is doing fuck all to help us. I dunno about you guys, but setting up an ambush here would be the most idiotic idea I've heard all week. Unless we all wanna stand around until we rot, I suggest we actually start moving. I don't care who goes with who." At least it made sense, though Sil wasn't completely sure if she would be welcome company. That, or simply used as a meat cache. Then again, it seemed everyone here was a predator, excluding the new voice. She was fucked no matter what, just as the Mightyena had so graciously pointed out earlier.

"Looks like High-brow Trash took you up on that," the black cat commented, only resulting in confusing Sil. Not that it really mattered. "It might be best that we don't start a fight here." Well... there was that. Now was likely the best possible moment.

Glancing once more to the horned beast that had pranced around her -what was his name?- she pushed past the invisible barrier he'd created and into the light, holding her head high. "I agree," she commented quietly, her stance firm but not aggressive or dominant. "Seems like if you look at the walls wrong here, they'd crumble. Let's not fight if only for the sake of not bringing the building down on us."

That chicken to her it seemed was a little too tightly wound for her liking, ready to leap and fight at a second's notice. Though, if you have something to protect such cautiousness would make sense. The ridiculousness of The Blaziken's statement took prescience in her mind over these musings however, and she rattled off a come back. "Are you kidding me? The only game going on around here is you wanting to play tag with your fist and my face. No way am I moving until you calm yourself." After this detestingly said statement, The Banette took another good look around at the group and nodded. Her sentiments were shared among the group, and the aggressor was hopefully in the minority. Feeling more self assured since there only seemed to be one immediate threat the Banette vaulted herself onto the rock she was hiding behind and took a seat. Though she was poised to spring off at the first sign of trouble. "Calm your chicken tits, I'mma expose myself. There, I'm a little plushie, can we move on now?" Within a few moments of listening to the group's interactions, she adjusted her speech to become similar to their's. Her word flow was quickened, her diction was slurred, and her tone of voice was raised as to have a comedic sound to it. Overall it was fast and somewhat grating, but non threatening. At least to the ghost's own perception. No matter who she was in conflict with, there would be a definite fighting disadvantage to her, she had to exercise caution.

Her mouth closed while she watched and listened to the continued conversation, she waited for an opening and spoke again "Well, are you going to start beating the shit outta each other or what? If no, then let's go along with Poochy's idea and start figuring out what to do." Quickly the spirit glanced around the perimeter with a narrowed wary gaze and added "I don't know about you, but I wouldn't stick around here for too long after all the noise we just made." Waiting around silently for a few moments, her eyes went wide and she muttered "Wait, Why the hell does it smell like barbecue in here?" This wasn't the scent of the regular dust and ash, she could easily notice the smell of roasted animal flesh, fresh flesh. Immediately her vision zeroed in on the Blaziken and she grimaced, but said nothing else.

"That right? You're currently at our tower," the Blaziken said tensely. Clearly Merle's unseen presence was making him nervous. Daryl glanced over his shoulder at his brother and gestured for him to come forward. "You got a pond full of undead to the east and a forest full of undead in every other direction."

"Oh, we know 'bout the walkers, son," Merle said as he slithered over to stand at Daryl's side. His copper eyes scanned each new face carefully. "Took us a night's work just to get us here in one piece."

"That's right," said Daryl. "Least we managed to stave their numbers for a while." He, too, looked around the room with interest. The tower was a crumbling, dusty mess with wooden floors caked with dried blood. It wasn't the most luxurious location for a shelter, but he could see the logic of why the group had chosen it - it was large, multistory and had lots of places to hide.

"Long story short-everybody's fucked." The next voice belonged to the Mightyena, and Daryl couldn't help but grin. The smaller hound was a blast to the past for him, back when days were simpler, yes, but not necessarily less chaotic. Even with his own murky past, Daryl would've taken simplicity over chaos any day.

"Best watch your skin, dog." Oh shit. Daryl felt Merle tense beside him, but his brother didn't move or otherwise indicate that he'd heard the Luxio. It should've been a relief, but Daryl knew that Merle would remember that little threat, saving it up for ammunition later ... or as a reason to get his claws dirty.

"It might be best that we don't start a fight here." Daryl let out a huff at that comment; antagonizing Merle was not a way to avoid confrontation.
"I agree," the Sawsbuck from before said, also stepping into view. "Seems like if you look at the walls wrong here, they'd crumble. Let's not fight if only for the sake of not bringing the building down on us."

"Hey!" Merle suddenly sprung to life, breaking his sinister silence at Daryl's side. He trotted towards the Blaziken, right into the centre of the room. Sure, he was an asshole, but Daryl had to admit that his brother had some serious balls. "Whoa, now! Who said anythin' 'bout a fight? Me and ol' Daryl here just came over to greet y'all lovely folk. It sure been a long time since we met any breathers."

"Yeah. As I said before, trouble ain't on our list of priorities. We get enough bullshit from the walkers." Maybe this was going to be all right and they could get through this without making any new enemies. Of course, with Merle around, that was easier said than done. He was civil now, but it only took one spark to detonate the bomb, and he was sure that the Luxio's comment from before hadn't helped. Daryl didn't exactly want a bunch of Pokemon slowing them down, but right now their priority was finding out where they were, and maybe getting their paws on some supplies, if they were offered.

"Name's Merle," the older Direyena went on, grinning from ear to ear and earning a scowl from Daryl. Smug bastard.
"This here's my baby brother, Daryl. We are mighty sorry for spookin' or scarin' y'all; I promise that was never our intention."

A heated silence follows the blaziken's outburst with his own tension slowly smothering itself out as one-by-one the hidden 'mon reveal themselves. Blue eyes flicker to each of them in turn as they appear...they were indeed outnumbered. However, even as they approached, none of the assorted 'mon drew any attacks. Drawing in several deep breaths, and with a flick of each wrist, the fire-type extinguishes any flames and smoke that had build up along his wrist.

Though a familiar burning remains along the wound along his upper arm..."Hey!" It was almost like it was encouraging him to re-ignite his flames, to--no. This train of thought ended here. He would never be like--"Whoa, now! Who said anythin' 'bout a fight? Me and ol' Daryl here just came over to greet y'all lovely folk. It sure been a long time since we met any breathers."

He hadn't registered the canine's approach until Merle stood toe to toe with him. Glancing to his sides, Aaden observes similar sentiments from his companions and turns back to the canine. "Right, fighting would be a dumb as hell idea right now. I guess I lost my head a bit."

"Look-all this standing around and yapping is doing fuck all to help us. I dunno about you guys, but setting up an ambush here would be the most idiotic idea I've heard all week. Unless we all wanna stand around until we rot, I suggest we actually start moving. I don't care who goes with who." Bath was right, leave it to her to keep them all in line. Turning towards his companion he gives a nod of agreement. "I don't know about you, but I wouldn't stick around here for too long after all the noise we just made."

"Unless we're heading out, the only way to head it down." Aaden notes, heading back towards where the others in his group were originally gathered. "And after what I scizor do before ditching to prance around the town, I don't recommend that." The pools of blood...the unholy screams as flesh is literally shredded... "I did say before I was running a charity, but go where you like, but if you're gonna stick around, we need to build a shelter. This place is nothing but holes and ash, but at least it's standing. There might be something in the lower levels we can use."

Feeling eyes burning holes into him, the blaziken finds his focus brought to the newly arrived plush. It's mouth set in a grimace as it looks at him with a sort of accusing look. When it's unzipped mouth does mouth, the fire-type can barely make out the muttered words. "Wait, Why the hell does it smell like barbecue in here?" Barbecue, what? He was the only fire type here...where had the kid and bird gone come to think of it? "I didn't barbecue anything, not even undead on the way back. Nothing should be roasting." He says, looking the ghost in the eye before looking around for the source, the smell now faintly reaching him as well.

Walking until he stands at the front of the stair case leading down, Aaden can see it. A beacon of thin, wispy smoke rises from along the far wall of their current level. Swallowing thicky, he glances to the mightyena and asks a question he's pretty sure he already knows the answer to. "Balth, did you see the dragon and bird leave?"