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@gravity-wall
Pinned post. Not mutuals-only. You are not required to specify a muse for memes, unless you have one in mind.
Divider credit: @adornedwithlight
Mun is 25+, he/they. Goes by Floof.
[Starter Calls] - [Muse List] - [Rules] Thread Tracker: [My Turn] - [Others' Turn] - [Queued]
Saffron. Okay. Noir would try to find an inconspicuous place there. Something told her she should avoid a media circus.
The deal was set. She went inside her Pokeball, eager to get started. And eager to see how he avoided being mainstream news if he'd been doing this for a while.
["Any ground rules you have for me before we start? Limits I have to follow?"] Pokeballs would not dampen communication until they were inside the suppressants but she figured he'd take care of that first thing.
It was hard to find a belt that didn't have clips for Pokéballs. That was the excuse he gave himself when he'd gotten the belt he had on now, the one he clipped the Luxury ball into as if it was second nature.
He'd picked the second clip. Nothing wrong with the first. It was just... Reserved parking. Noir wasn't even his. (Though he'd argue the Pokémon who belonged in that first clip also wasn't his. Because she wasn't. He just had a hard time getting rid of her for good. That's all it was.)
I don't care. Do what you want.
Despite his words, flashes he didn't even try to censor kept popping up in his mind; Gruesome end results of a number of practical experiments. Stupid to think about now-- The Pokémon of some fawning fangirl wasn't about to do more of the same or anything.
She could still die, herself. This was too much of a risk. Too reckless, even for him; He was the only person who needed to--
He stepped through the threshold.
No amount of reading up on symptoms could've prepared him to feel the effects of a suppressant loop for the first time. Everything was miles away, little more than a series of disconnected colors-- Time slipped through his fingers like sand-- The directional tile pattern he'd memorized vanished from his head, like he'd never studied up on this place at all.
He couldn't say how long he had left when he finally flipped the switch and turning-- Three grunts, surrounding on each side. Of course he'd been followed...
Each threw a Pokéball out at once, a trio of Raticate burst onto the scene.
"Eh? You really think that's good enough?" He had to laugh. Long, slow, and unnerving, that laugh was-- Halfway through his display, he plucked the Gardevoir's Luxury Ball from that belt clip and pressed the button.
"What do you think you're doing, brat!?" one of the trio shouted. "Get away from that!"
His right side leaned heavier against the wall. Colors and light started to turn back into shapes. "What do I think I'm doing?" he echoed, allowing a smile to stretch across his lips. Another laugh erupted from his throat, as if scraping across his teeth. "I just found a villain's den. And I'm making sure you never come back."
How strong is your Machine Telepathy? Can you break the connection between the control panel and the anti-cheat for good?
#with all of the muses I have picked up from series whose canon events I find distasteful or otherwise Done Poorly
//Between Hazbin, Raildex, and Veilguard, I do feel the weight of each series' fandom's expectations to stay as canon as possible. I absolutely refuse to in all cases.
People should realize that roleplayers are going to write canon characters how they see them, not to how other people see them.
Some people like to be canon compliant with their muses. Some people like to take a canon divergent approach. Both are completely valid. Everyone has a different view on things and that’s the beauty of art whether it be a book, a tv show, a movie, a video game etc. Fandom should be a place where people come together and appreciate the series (or pick apart canon, whatever float your boat.)
The wrong thing to do is tell someone you don’t agree with their headcanons or interpretation, especially if you write that muse yourself. It gives off a message of not liking duplicates and comes off as a bit snooty.
If you don’t like how someone writes a canon character, ignore them and move on. Or maybe even embrace their differences and ask more about their headcanons. Do not send hate or be rude to others. It’s why people leave the RPC and why it’s getting smaller and smaller with the passing of time.
//...thinking about how the "75% shadow" number is down from what it used to be.
//By all accounts, he's especially difficult to un-shadow. Even compared to Legendary Pokemon. Momentum still favors shadowification and it may be easy to catapult him back to where he was if he's not careful, or to really close his heart off if he's especially reckless.
Right now, he stopped in the middle of the initial shadow-making process and the bonds people make with him now are going to be enough. He's not actually a shadow yet, even if he is so close to being one. Even if he's already written himself off.
You are going to see him rely on certain people without thinking about it. You are going to see him indulge in generally calmer behavior, until and unless something Actively Sets Him Off.
For now.
//...thinking about how the "75% shadow" number is down from what it used to be.
That was a pretty crafty plan, kid. She could help if she could find a way to last long enough for him to take out the anti-cheat. Alas it nerfed her technopathy too much to be able to disarm it that way herself.
["Once you take out the anti-cheat, I can take care of any and all security cameras. But until then, I need to stay in the Pokeball until all of the anti-cheat measures are down."]
Her Luxury Ball hovered between them. ["Fair warning, if you accept this Pokeball and then lose me, the Weird will curse you."]
But if he agreed to the terms...
["Where do you want to be dropped off, when we get out, or if we cut it too close?"]
If he lost the Gardevoir, he'd get fairy cursed...? If he lost the Gardevoir, it meant he was already dead. The 'Weird' could do whatever it wanted to his remains. Even his ghost. He didn't care about that.
His hesitation didn't stem from anything like a fear of punishment.
The villain couldn't take someone else's life in his hands. That wasn't their prerogative, protecting anyone. Stepping outside of his role, even to accept a temporary alliance... Throughout his whole body, he could only describe this feeling as being 'wrong'.
Yet, he still reached his left hand out, touching the underside of the Luxury Ball.
Saffron. Doesn't matter where. The old lady'll pick me up.
Noir knew she couldn't use the tablet without blowing both of their covers. This was the closest she'd ever bothered to go to the game corner, though, interest sparked by the silhouette of an awfully familiar person.
And she had been curious about the device he had. Poppy had whispered to her later that he had brain damage - she hadn't wanted to blurt her findings out loud, in front of Sabrina - and if Noir looked closer...
Oh, this was interesting. More importantly, this meant that maybe, she didn't need the tablet to communicate with him. That could be useful!
["Does Sabrina know you do this?"] That device he had had a battery. If it was connected to his brain the way it looked like it was...what happened if it died in there? That could be devastating.
Everybody knew the unspoken secret that this was becoming a Rocket Stronghold again. And since there was no bright red R on his person, and he clearly wasn't going to gamble...
["I don't care if you go in there or not. But if you do, it seems to me like you might need a getaway car."] Hopefully he was getting these messages.
He heard them. Not in the same direction telepaths normally sounded like they came from (it seemed like there might have been some electronic interference, too?), but he heard her words nonetheless. Expression sour as a lime, he stepped away from the doorway proper, leaning his right side against the wall.
The old lady knows.
Brief flashes crossed his recollection, scattered snapshots of conversations-- Telling him to do this or that, to stop leaving his crutch behind, to be careful, to... All of the things he didn't need anybody to tell him, but he still wouldn't have followed if he'd been left to his own devices.
Fine. Just don't get in my way.
Another moment, and he wobbled back to his feet. One more image rose to the forefront of his mind; the blueprints he'd studied before he came here.
I have to disable the 'anti-cheat' measures. Figure out a way to break the whole thing, so they can't turn it back on. I've got an hour to do that and knock out the rats moving into the basement. If I'm not back by then, I'm dead.
//Also an important screenshot:
//I have been told that Yukina has conflicting opinions on the way this fight ended in surrender instead of a true loss (though by all accounts, that WAS a loss) and I haven't been told what exactly those are. But. He hasn't even told her it was a surrender yet. Or that he was only responding to a challenge, not making one himself.
And maybe this is the one time somebody could call Kazuya a "such a guy" about something.
//The cherry on top of all of today's bullshit: Poké!Touma is a normal-type specialist. The lab ran out of starters by the time he could get anything, so he was given a handful of balls. Of course, all five of his original Pokéballs shattered while he tried to catch a Pidgey. But there was a Rattata who watched him try his hardest, who decided to step in and help him defend himself. That wild rat, who didn't have a Pokéball for a while at first, is his starter.
Normal-types just feel an inexplicable pull toward the loser who would manage to somehow break a Master Ball if he tried to use one.
Wow...such a chuunibyou... Poppy was thankful he wasn't a telepath.
Noir and Munmun took seats next to her. Pokemon got to play too? Awesome! Hopefully the humans here would get something out of this. Munmun pegged this right away as therapy. Poppy never tried this method before...maybe it would be useful? She was also going to take notes for trying this with other people she offered help to...
"It's such a stupid thing to get angry about...so I kept it inside, but... one of the bunnies at the clinic didn't empty the autoclave before we closed the other day and we were short a few tools the next day because of it." Don't tell the bunnies! She doesn't want them to feel bad!
"Wait...does it have to be a certain intensity of feeling to count as anger?" Because in the grand scheme of things...this wasn't angry, was it? It certainly didn't last long enough to affect her opinion of her bunny coworkers.
Munmun nudged Noir with a smug grin. Noir sighed.
["A client owes us an outstanding bill and still hasn't paid it, even though it's been a month since yesterday."] There. Anger, when, and why.
Munmun pondered. She didn't really get angry...
["A while back - at least a month. I messed up with a patient and lost a lot of trust that might be impossible to rebuild. I'm not angry at them, I'm angry at myself for being careless enough to keep making the same mistake with them over and over again."]
Poppy and Noir both gave her weird looks, curiosity mixed with sympathy winces.
Between this and the way Poppy spoke before, a pattern started to emerge. "Is this normal for you?" Sabrina had to ask. "Suppressing and belittling your own emotions?"
"I don't get that," the boy chimed in. "How anybody makes the same mistake twice."
Sabrina gave him a pointed look.
"Those aren't mistakes," he countered, responding to words nobody else in the room could hear. "I know what I'm doing."
Another moment of silence, and then he spoke up again; "You know I don't care what you say out loud. Do you think you're doing me a favor, keeping all your secrets?" Then, with a huff, he turned away from the group. "This is stupid."
Sabrina, too, had to turn her attention to Musharna. (Or, as the young man was referring to her in his mind, the 'Unovan Hypno'.) "There might be nothing you can do now, where that patient is concerned, but if you know what that mistake was, do you believe you can avoid it for another patient?"
@angelofasclepius // x
The game corner was a no-go zone for him. Psychic suppressants were rare, but casinos loved to shell out millions for 'anti-cheat' technology, no matter how hard it was to manufacture. Especially in great enough quantities to ensure there would be a fully-closed loop around the walls of a building.
At least... That's how it usually was.
Today, he finally got a map of the facility underground. If he just made it long enough to cut off the power supply, he could operate at maximum capacity and take out whoever was trying to move back into the basement.
Erika wasn't going to do anything but stay in her little flower garden, as far as he knew. Sabrina couldn't set foot in this place, no matter how attuned she was to the weak dampeners she wore when she went to Unova. Any higher a dose than that, and she'd get violently ill. Apparently, she was doing that to build some kind of resistance, but it was slow going.
None of that had anything to do with the reason he was here, of course; He just wanted to get these people off the street 'cause they pissed him off.
Instead, what all that really meant was he shouldn't have had any competition to get in his way.
He steeled himself, readying his body for the sudden dearth of stimuli that was about to overtake his body and having to do martial arts without 99% of his rote reactions available to him... But he'd been training with more than just Sabrina in the next city over. He hadn't really understood how to throw a punch before. And while Accelerator wasn't about to thank anyone for the wake-up call that spurred him to learn, the Fighting Dojo's Koichi was a good teacher.
Not to mention the effects of being surrounded by suppressant tech for too long. He hadn't gotten sick before, from that living psychic suppressant, but as far as he could tell, that guy's process wasn't the same as the artificial stuff. This mission could still ruin his day. He had to be careful here.
Just outside the door, he felt another presence move closer to him. He turned, red eyes piercing through the darkness like a wild dog trapped in a corner-- The Gardevoir with the tablet. Familiar enough for him to lower his guard. Though she'd be loud if she stuck too close to him too long. He needed to get her out of here.
"If you're gonna tell me not to go in, save your time."
//One more important thing about this AU is the existence of psychic dampeners and suppressants in the long-standing Pokémon worldbuilding I use.
They're rare, but they still line the walls in places like casinos. And they still very often make psychics, both humans and pokemon, sick.
Vector Boy has an extra weakness is what I'm saying.
"If a piece of myself is separated from me long enough, it will break away from my mind and develop its own personality."
A thoughtful hum left their throat.
"I do not like to leave my pieces unattended. I do not often make pieces that can grow. For as I stagnate, so too must the rest of 'me'."
Feet shifted in the sand. Grains stuck in between their toes.
"But there are pieces I separate myself from all the same. Ones I have withheld my power from, and allowed to grow as individual personalities. For as I wish to change... I cannot do it as 'me'."
