(ELITE) The FALLARBOR Team

The creature before them was small, but not to be taken lightly. Vincent Sage crouched down, a gentle smile on their features as they reached out one tentative hand, clicking their tongue to gain the Pokemon's attention. "Hey little guy, you lost?" It was dark, a warm breeze running through the air and ruffling their thick hair. It needed to be cut soon, but the thought was abandoned as the creature slowly turned. It was a Larvesta, the fire bug tense and jerky in it's movements, but that was when the human themself froze, green eyes widening as the mistake in their actions was slowly realised. "...Easy, bud," Vince murmured, cringing as the beady eyes slowly turned on them. Glowing crimson eyes.

All too late, Vince realised the mistake. Recoiling, they scrambled backwards as the undead lunged, snarling horribly. Suddenly shot with fear, they swiped out with one hand, able to bat the Larvesta aside with a sharp hit. Taking the chance to attempt a get away, they fought for their footing and stood before immediately racing away. They were in a forest... trees? Suddenly a sharp breath of air escaped them. Oh God this is Route 120. Vincent was right by their old home, Fortree City before the decline. Their heart raced faster. Suddenly they heard wings, massive, flapping wings, and the panic grew. "Pollux!" They screamed, calling out for their partner. But the Xatu was nowhere in sight. The trees thinned out, the wings were louder.

"Castor!? Florence! Hawthorne!!" None of the Pokemon showed up, tears biting at his eyes. Had they abandoned him?! The foliage gave way and immediately a huge fiery moth fell from the sky. Vince cried out in fear as the Volarona flew closer, it's jaws opening and closing as it moved to attack the human. "No-- fuck off!!" He screamed, expression changing to fierce though his eyes were fearful. The undead did not care, hissing before flames built around it's wings. Vince recognised the fiery dance before it hit, his heart pumping as it braced for the pain. The fire exploded towards the trainer, him crying out again as his skin singed, burned, and his organs boiled--

"Vincent!" The jostling of his bed snapped them awake. Wait... it was-
"Oh," they breathed out in a sigh. It had been a dream. They were in their personal home, the former house of the professor Cozmo from before the fall of the world. It hardly mattered, but Vincent never did call it their home. It was still Cozmo's. Vincent's eyes slowly adjusted to the room, transitioning back to reality after the nightmare. The room itself was the same, but rearranged. The telescope had been bucked back, assumed damaged, and the bed moved to the higher level, where Vince was laying; beside them was Hawthorne, a Linoone. She was standing on her hind legs, staring at her trainer with concern in her blue eyes, though her stance was tired. They had to wonder if she had slept much at all that night.

In the rest of the small house were bookshelves along the sides of the walls where the bed had been, all removed from the PokeMart early on to keep the salvageable and entertaining books safe and all in one place. The table in the middle remained, as did the desk and computer, though the desktop hardly had any use since the internet went out. There were various other boxes strewn about behind the ladder training from the upper floor to ground level, and random items and articles of clothing tossed over the chairs. There were currently no other Pokemon in the home, and as the human blinked the exhaustion from their eyes, they could glance out one window and see that light was already above the horizon. "You able to get up?" Hawthorne asked casually. Her words both encouraged them to get up and greet the day, but also understood if the trainer was not able to yet.

"..Yeah," Vincent sighed, sliding to the side and setting his feet on the floor. He never slept beneath the blankets unless it was winter, as it was already naturally hot outside. Thankfully there was a broom about, so dirt and dust was able to be kept to a minimum, allowing the trainer to wear socks in the house without worrying about dirtying them. "It'll fade," he assured the normal type, who only nodded in return.
"Good to hear. The rest should be up by now. Can I get you to eat this morning?" Vincent pulled himself to his feet with a dull sigh, not reacting yet to the inquiry. She meant well, but she also understood how nerves killed his appetite.

The human jumped down the yard or so to the ground, the Linoone following behind a moment later. "Maybe. Just let me get dressed first." His 'comfortable' clothes involved a lab coat and thin shorts, hardly proper pajamas, but he was far from being picky by that point. He stumbled to the closet, one of the few rooms that break off from the main room, the others being the bathroom and tiny kitchen. Least he was able to keep the semi-clean clothes... semi-clean.
Hawthorne nodded, heading towards the door. "Someone will meet you by the Hall then."
"Think it's Nima's turn," they murmurred, to which the Linoone agreed.
"Should be Nima, yeah." Ever since the settlement had been made by the small family, no one allowed their trainer to be alone at any time, someone always with them. The mongoose pushed open the door and vanished, leaving the trainer on their own.

While digging through the clothes, Vincent released a sigh. "Volcarona... who did I know that had a Volcarona?" he muttered to himself. Pulling out the shirt and pants, he quickly pulled the more-or-less clean clothes onto himself while chewing on it. Larvesta... WAIT. Green eyes widened in the middle of pulling shoes on. "Din." The sorrow in his voice was evident, something any of his Pokemon would have picked up on had they been there. Chris. He sighed.

This was going to be a long day.

---

After getting a slice of bread and some berries, Vincent had set to work looking around the town with his Ninjask loyally by him. Nima was a rescue, taken in after the fall, but she had proved to be as loyal as any of his other lifelong partners. Pollux had not come by to say good morning, but he had to assume the Xatu was tired and busy. Time passed easily, Nima hanging onto the human's shoulder and quietly chattering on about good crops and weather. Sam Tsui was cutting weeds, as the grass and unwanted plants had begun to get too high within the limits of their living area, and Vince had passed on the last of his breakfast to the Sableye.

"She needs it more than me," they insisted when Nima glared at them.
"You need to eat, Mister," she retorted, defiance in her crimson eyes. But the trainer merely shrugged. Not like the bug was wrong.

By the time the hours passed and the sky was much higher in the sky, Vincent was already feeling better than he had woken up. The weather was always perfect in the beautiful town. Winters were chilly, but the volcano kept them warm enough to be far from freezing; summers were not even stuffy or truly hot, instead enjoyable as the crops sucked up the warmth. He moved through the town, idly looking through each building without much of a purpose in mind.
The PokeMart was a storage place, not a lot of healing items left by then, but it was far more empty since the shelves were almost all removed for better placement. Like te bookshelves in his house.
The PokeCenter was not changed at all; some cots were moved, to make temporary beds in what used to be the lobby, but behind the desk, medical supplies were very heavily watched and used as sparingly as possible. In the back there were many things none of them knew how to use, like needles for stitches and syringes or various shots,
but thankfully the building was only ever used when a Pokemon was harmed. Hawthorne's shock wave was just enough to power the healing machine and allow a rapid healing when needed.
The contest hall had become a storage center for keeping food good for weeks on end. The various grains and vegetables were carefully watched and prepared there.

When walking out of the PokeCenter, Vince flinched when a Xatu dove down from the air. "Vincent!" Pollux barked out, his stance tense and eyes on edge.
Vince immediately hardened his own features, instinctively gripping one Pokeball at his side, even though none of them stayed stored up anymore.
"There is a stranger approaching from Route 113, past the crops," the bird growled, reporting with a nod of his head towards the East. He usually had sentry duty there, watching for undead and intruders alike, due to his reliable eyes and sharp psychic senses.
The trainer nodded. "Lead the way."

Following the bird as he flew through the air, Vincent did the math in his head. Pollux was his strongest partner in need of retaliation against an attack, but with only him and Nima, they could be easily outnumbered. The Ninjask kept close by his side while Pollux took them through the town and past the crops, rows upon rows and plants that kept the group thriving. They were the town's pride and joy, and despite the potential situation, he could not help but give the smallest of endearing smiles at them.
His heart was pounding, his hands shaking enough that he clenched them to fists in order to steady them. Easy. Easy. Pollux is with you. No one will take your home. Swallowing his fear, Vincent entered the forests of Route 113 with two of his partners.

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

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

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

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

"Vincent Sage?"

The route was dead, near as literally as was possible, but it was something the trainer found himself all too thankful for as time passed. Between the warm climate speeding infection to a dangerous degree and barren land leaving little to be desired, there was seldom a single body moving through. Vince's mind flashes to the small family of Sandshrew whom had tried to survive, but were too frightened to listen to him or any of the Pokemon. Walking slowly, they passed a think plank stuck in front of several mounds of dirt, only one place marker that were far too common those days. "Steady," the Ninjask tried to comfort her trainer, keeping close by his side. Nima's wings buzzed softly as she gripped one of the human's hands in her own small ones.

The shaking did not cease, his fear only heightening, but naturally Vincent muttered, "I'm fine." It was a lie, and she knew it, but instinct and pride made him deny it.
Before the bug could argue, Pollux halted midair, turning to look back at his trainer with eyes hard from the stress of the situation. "They were further off, but if they were coming this direction, no way they are far off," he growled quietly. The Xatu felt more than saw the anxiety in his trainer, though his panicked eyes were all too easy for his oldest standing partner to ignore. "Just let me do the talking," he tried to minimize the stress the kid had to go through, but Vincent stubbornly shook his head.
"No, I can do it," he insisted, and the way his green eyes narrowed, jaw tightening, the Xatu knew better than to try arguing. Especially when they had such a small amount of time.

Before the conversation could continue, Vincent froze, the sharp voice coming through the almost peaceful air to him. "What in the goddamn?" He tenses, roughly taking his hand out of the comforting grip Nima had. The thick black raptor handling glove was held out, Vince's arm clearly calling Pollux back to his side without any word. Like they had done a million times in the past, the bird retreated, immediately resting his weight on the thick material while his claws were prevented from tearing into the flesh of his person. The collar around his neck make the sharp tink! tink! of metal as it was jostled, Vincent sharply jerking his head back as suddenly the other guy was very quickly coming their way. And without a single shred of fear.

Pollux flared his wings, releasing a sharp but low hissing sound, the bird equivalent of a warning growl. Startled green eyes met hardened green eyes as Vincent was helpless to only stare at the stranger as he approached. Wild blond hair, a long red flannel, there were only details but Vincent snatched them up in the time it took for the stranger to approach him. "D- don't come any closer!" Vincent attempted authority, hardening his eyes, but his left hand was shaking. Some leader he was, spooked by a single kid that came his goddamn way--

"Vincent Sage?"

The tension immediately evaporated, both of his Pokemon suddenly stunned while the trainer's own emotions shot up to panic. How does he know my name?! Vincent had been very careful to never give out his full name. Sage. Sage was what he went by. If the world somehow fixed itself later on, he didn't want any actions he'd of done to be held accountable if anyone knew his full--

"...! Stannis?!"

Vincent whipped around to stare at his partner, the Xatu had of dropped all aggression, instead beak was hanging open enough for a Beedrill to fly in. Pollux's eyes seemed like they would bug out of his head and immediately Vincent barked out the first name that came to mind, even before turning to look back at the boy: "Ch- Chris?!" Sure enough, he could make out an Acheops behind the trainer-- Cormag?!-- and the Sawsbuck Pollux named right behind. "No fucking way," Vince whispered, already his expression dropping to desperation as he stared at the other trainer's face-- no, Chris' face. Tears bit at the bottom of his eyes and his arm dropped, Pollux abandoning the defensive pose to land on the ground. "Oh my God... Chris?" He whispered, finally a smile pulling at his features as he stumbled forward towards the other boy. "You're... you're alive?"

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

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

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

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

At his side, Nima's speed boost ability had started to kick in with the tenseness of the situation. The Ninjask's wings move noticeably faster, her front legs twitching as she eyes her trainer and the stranger. Chris' face broke into a grin when Vince said his name, finally the ice broken with no effort at all. "Vincent, who is this?" Nima whispered in his ear.
"An old friend," he told her, not taking his eyes off of the trainer before him. Was this real? Ah, fuck, it had to be. Though his thoughts were momentarily short circuited when the blond let out a sharp laugh, the action confusing him for just a moment before Vincent quickly brushed it off. Who card at that point?! Chris was okay, okay and standing right in front of him! Vincent joined in with a soft chuckle of his own, not eve knowing why they were laughing, but not giving a single damn.

"I'd be shocked if I wasn't." Vincent gave a half giggle at that, his body numb from the sheer luck of the chance meeting.
"I wouldn't even blame you," he said without thinking, only able to steady his hand by placing it on the Xatu's head from where he stood beside him. His body was shaking. Was it from being nervous? Likely, his anxiety around other people flaring up in a ugly way despite it being someone he knew. Or was it just that it had been so long since he saw another human in general, since the start of Fallarbor, years ago? Was he what Chris would have expected, or was he something too far gone for his old friend to recognise, let alone want to stay around? Vince reached up with his other hand, itching at his collar as a nervous habit, suddenly not even sure if it would be worse if Chris left or stayed. Could he even interact with people again, normally, like a person?

"Seriously, though...it's damn good to see you again, Vincent."
That was what he needed to hear, his smile twitching but able to remain as the tenseness in his shoulders recedes, allowing them to relax. "You too, Chris. It's been so long." His eyes wandered to the two beside the other human, Stannis and Cormag, right? "Good to see you two doing well, too. This Ninjask is Nima," he introduced her, reaching up to scratch her chin gently. "Found her not long after, and she's stuck around since. In fact, the town is all remade," he explained, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder to point towards the town. "If you're low on supplies, or want a bed to sleep on.. there's more than enough space." His smile wavers then, his eyes hitting the ground for a moment as he faltered. "Can get pretty lonely there, ah, too."

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

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

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

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

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

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

Stannis gives a respectful bow and his smile grows. Cormag does not miss a beat either, enthusiastic as ever. "Vincent, boyo, how've yah been?" Oh man how he fucking missed Pokemon.
At his offer for a place to stay, the Archeops immediately whirls on his trainer, begging without much shame as the trainer and his partner watch. Vince could not help the amused smile, his demeanor changing to be much more relaxed.
"Chris, a real bed," Cormag points out with clear intent. Pollux let out a soft sound, almost a sigh but not nearly so done. The trainer shot the Xatu a look, raising one eyebrow playfully.

"Whoa, easy on the pathos," Chris interrupted, suddenly making Vincent's face flush. Oh shit, had he fucked up? Shelter, a place to rest... that was good right? Was he coming off as weird? Oh shit. Without warning he suddenly knew very well that it would be worse for the other to leave than stay. Oh please stay, Vee thought as his heart pounded.
"Staying sounds like a good idea. Better than sleeping on the ground, and it'll get this one off my back, too," the blond responds positively as the Archeops gives a shit eating grin. Vee's own smile mirrored Cormag's.

"Nima, go back and let Hawthorne know what's going down." The Ninjask shot one glance at the other trainer, Chris, before taking to the air without a word. She had not seemed... enthused. Vee forced the thought away as Pollux stood up straight. "Luckily it's not far; and with the fencing, no walker can get in without us knowing." The trainer makes a gesture with his hand, inviting Chris to walk with him.
He already knew by then not to ask about how the kid was doing, no one answered that one well in the apocalypse, but he was dying to know how he ended up there. Had he seen Lyka? Or Matt and Rose, were they okay? In his shot of enthusiasm, Vee almost forgot to be pessimistic, both about Chris even knowing their fate and the fact that separation usually meant they were already lost. Instead, Vincent's green eyes flickered up, so thankful that Chris even existed, a ghost of his old life, that the bags beneath his own just seemed less relevant.

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

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

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

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

The trainer's lips pull back in a more relaxed smile as the pair of boys walk side by side down the path, as opposed to staring at each other. Vincent had not had any interaction with another person since Blue. It still was a shock to him how such a specific twist of fate would have his childhood hero show up and be the one to save his life those few years ago. Vee's head waved to one side, briefly shaking his hair as the Xatu took to the sky above them. Pollux would keep a close watch to make sure they were safe, though the notion still seems hilarious. How could you be safe in an apocalypse? It took so long for Vince himself to accept that there a possibility of there being some place where even the walkers were scarce. Walkers. Just like that show everyone used to love but I could never watch. Least the world was not filled with human zombies. His eyes flickered to his remaining partner. Was that really so much better?

Chris' voice drags him from his thoughts; Vincent turned his head with a sheepish grin. He commonly spaced out, but now he needed to nip that habit in the bud. "So, Fallarbor...it's just you and your Pokemon?" The question was innocent enough, though the familiar guilt flashed through the trainer as he remembered Florence. His Sceptile he could not save. "Ah, y-yep! No one else come up.. here, so we've been on our own, I haven't lost anyone while being here." Instantly Vincent kicked himself for that last strand of information. Why did it matter if you lost someone there or not? He could only hope to delay Chris asking about any Pokemon lost in the meantime.
"I'm impressed. Seriously. You've done way more than...well, most of us, really." The compliment was so unexpected that the older boy flushed almost instantly. Impressed? Well, he was not dead, that alone was a miracle. For someone as weak as me, anyway. As it was, he ducked his head, avoiding a low hanging branch from a tree. "Ahh, well, shit. Thanks."

The path below there feet was overgrown and part of the ashy forest now, though at that moment in time nothing fluttered through the air- fortunately. Vincent's eyes flickered up as he saw a familiar shape perched on top of one of the poles of a tall, wooden fence. The dark violet figure twitched, two crystal eyes shimmering in the overcast light before waving with a single clawed hand. Sam Tsui, the Sableye, had taken over watch while Pollux was gone. They were still a few minutes from reaching the gate of the fence, so Vince added, "Originally it was actually a trainer and a wild Pokemon that did this. I mean, I was there, but I hardly helped much, though they both had to move on, so the deal fell to me." His green eyes scanned the edge of the crops. For some reason, he wanted to keep Azelf and Blue secret... at least at first. Vincent had friends, but it had been years. That could change a person, and he would take no risk on either of their lives. Besides, it hardly mattered, anyway. Not like they were at Fallarbor at that point.

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

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

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

"Yours, actually."

"Wait what?"  

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

"No, that was King!"  

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

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

"And now we're lost"

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

"And where is that, exactly?"

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

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

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

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

So much for some friendly banter cheering her up.

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

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

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

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

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

"Uh... Matti?"  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Should they approach...?

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

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

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

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

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

"Well, who were they?"
Vee starts at the question, blinking his wide green eyes while passing a glance to Chris.  His expression remained permanently alarmed, possibly a side affect of being perpetually spooked, but the trainer was actually genuinely surprised by the inquiry; so much so, even, that Vee himself was pulling a blank on the thoughts in his own head on what the other could be referring to.

"This trainer and Pokemon, I mean."
He actually needed the prompting, causing a weak, but brief, flash of fire to cross his face in response. He wasn't lying, was he? He hadn't been caught lying; just being vague. Wasn't like he was doing anything harmful, anyway, though. The reluctance evaporated with an awkward shrug, the trainer turning his head to glance at the trees before responding.

"It's, ah, quite a story. Maybe I can tell you the details over some food or something. But the pokemon was actually a Legend... Azelf, from Sinnoh." Not like the poor guy would end up returning. The usual self loathing was replaced with worry for the kind psychic's wellbeing. He has more important things than fucked up little Vincent, surely.

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

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

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

He's moving.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And what was worse was that everyone knew it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I--FUCK!

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

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

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

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

"Stay... away..."

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

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

"I don't know if we should..."  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What is he looking for?

"U-um..."

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

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

Now what?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Who are you...?" he asked quietly, watching each carefully in turn, taking the machete and placing it carefully and slowly into its sheath, still over his wounded trainer.

Nobody expects the dragon.

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

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

"Who are you...?"

What.

She lowers an arm.

He's just... watching them.

"U-um..."  She swallows.  "I-I..."

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

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

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

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