Pokémon Generico [P][C]

[Sebastian Moran]

Your radio crackles into life on the stroke of midnight. Gentle music plays, and you wonder if you're dreaming.
"Yes, it's a problem."
Suddenly you're alert. The music was quiet enough for you to ignore it, but this voice is familiar. It's yours.
"Things have split too far, I'm sorry to say. But we managed to get on the right side of the divide, and not a moment too soon. Now we can make a difference. A new life. A new start. What I've always wanted."
The sky outside begins to lighten: somehow it's morning already, and it takes you a while to realise how quiet it is. Moving to the window, it's obvious that the familiar streets are empty. There are no cars on the roads, no people milling about, and the houses stand still as though evacuated. The radio gives a content sigh, leaving one last message before switching itself off.
"It's going to be a beautiful day in my neighbourhood."

---------------

Plot: Since that announcement on the radio, it's as though your character is the only person left in the city, maybe even in the world. Everything is as though it had been abandoned the night before, with no explanation given. On a table in their home is what looks like an over-elaborate watch. No, wait: it's like some kind of... is it a pokégear? Like from the video games? That definitely wasn't there before.
Next to it is a note in their own handwriting: Meet us in the park.

---------------

Yes, your character is from "our world", where pokémon aren't (weren't) real, WHAT A TWIST.
No, you don't get to decide what your starter pokémon is, just what number poké ball it's in. I tried to mainly get a selection which aren't used in RPs so often, but in my attempt to get a nice mixture of types some of them might be more popular.
Yes, I'll let you know what it is before we start. So you can edit it into your form, and give it a nickname and a gender and a stylish hat if you want to. I'll have a quick ref of characters/pokémon in this post as well.
No, you can't change what pokémon you have after it's ~revealed~ what they are. Even if you hate it so much that it gives you chronic gastritis and you have a sick note saying so.
No, Not all of the pokémon have to be picked. I'm hoping to only have about a half dozen people joining in, otherwise it will be Too Complicated for my small brain. We'll see. But eleven would probably be overkill.
Yes, you can catch more pokémon. But you'll need poké balls first, so hold them there horses.
Yes, please be literate, use some punctuation, double-space your paragraphs and all that jazz. Also, please write in the third person (so your character as he/she/they, not I/me).
Yes, be engaging and interactive and have fun! I'll nudge the plot along at various times/offer delicious exposition, but feel free to go up to things and poke them with sticks, and basically have the RP move along in a direction you think would work. Interact with other characters, particularly if they're trying to get involved, and make sure you respond to interactions towards you! I guess the "have fun" is optional, but encouraged.

---------------

Characters

User	Name	Pokégear		Pokémon
echo	Brandy Padilla	Grey		Nosepass
Shrub	Nancy Thropp	Pink		Exeggcute
Bad Wolf	Checo Mendoza	Yellow		Makuhita
Shaymin	Quinn Brewer	White		Swirlix
Inferna	Skye Logan	Green		Spinarak
Danatales	Toby Kozlov	Orange		Slugma
Hahex and Oshawott	Luke San	Purple		Drifloon
Sebastian Moran	Ruben Leger	Black		Shellder

for the purposes of this RP all pokémon will evolve by levelling up and have similar total power/levelling points.
not that we're sticking to rigid Level Up and Movesets anyway.
but i trust you all to be sensible when it comes to moves. no fire blasts and hyper beams to start off with, because i am a killjoy.

[Wolstenholme]

Save me a spot, please, chief! (it's a bit late to be making a form rn - need to sleep)

[Kpyna]

Name: Brandy Padilla
Age, gender: 20, Female
Looks: Brandy is a little short, measuring in at only five feet, three inches. She tries to make up for her size with long, girly blonde hair, that flows about halfway down her back, and has the weakest signs of waves bending through it. Her eyes are dark blue, contrasting her fair skin and fair hair. She's always wearing at least a touch of makeup to prevent her face from being just a sheet of white. She's muscular, and thus has a stocky build. For clothing, she wears a gray v-neck, dark blue jeans, and gray converse-style shoes. Her ears flaunt small dangling rhinestone earrings.
Personality: Brandy is pretty outgoing and adventurous, and isn't afraid to put herself out there. She knows that her mental and physical strength can get her through most obstacles, and therefore is rarely afraid to take something on. She's been involved with a variety of sports, from horseback riding, to tennis, to snowboarding -- she likes to keep busy as often as she can. Sometimes she can come off a bit too strong, and she can be a bit bothersome and stubborn when a problem arises, as she has a bit too much confidence in her own ideas and abilities at times.
Pokémon Number: Going for 10!
Intro post:

Brandy's bedroom door opened, and Brandy emerged from her room, all dressed and ready to begin her day. None of her roommates seemed to be up yet, which was odd. Not even Millie is awake yet, and usually she's up at the crack of dawn... oh well... Brandy could remember Dave mentioning he was going out, so he was probably hungover in bed. And maybe, today was just going to be an odd day.

She slapped together some cereal, and sat down at her small kitchen table. In front of her, she noticed a high tech looking piece of technology. As much as she would have liked to have put some cereal into her starving belly, she was curious about what the watch-thing was. Dave hardly knows how to work a computer, and Millie would never get anything that wasn't black or army green... She reached over, and decided to take a peak at it. Maybe Dave brought someone over, and Brandy just didn't hear her. Hm... she thought, pressing a button on the side. It lit up with some calibration information, that Brandy couldn't be bothered to figure out, especially if it didn't belong to her.

However, when Brandy went to go and place it down again, she noticed a note was facing her. It clearly read, Meet us at the park. Maybe that's where everyone went...? Brandy thought, shoveling some corn flakes into her mouth. She finished up as quickly as possible, folded the note, put it in her pocket, and then grabbed the gadget along with her keys. She unlocked her door, and stepped into the hallway. Today was certainly going to be an odd day.

[The Shrub Dragon]

Name: Nancy Thropp
Age, gender: 17, Female
Looks: Nancy is tall and sullen looking, with a dark fringe that just barely brushes at her eyebrows, and a long nose that looms over a very glossed pair of lips. She has very tanned skin and a dark mole on her right cheekbone. Her eyes are very dark brown and narrow enough that she feels she has to compensate with full eye makeup (which does not go unnoticed by teachers). She's rakishly thin and slightly looming and she wears denim shorts just longer than her fingertips, though not her fingernails, and a cropped jersey over a shell pink t-shirt with cheap wedge sandals that only seek to exacerbate her height.
Personality: Contrary to what her excessive vanity may suggest, Nancy tries to be as accommodating of other people as possible, which sometimes conflicts with a hot-headed streak that runs through her with vigour and usually ends in her going off in a strop for a little while. She's confident around other people, but functions via a 'do as I say, not as I do' policy as she admits to acting irresponsibly under pressure. In the past, she has met requests to try things out of her comfort zone with outright refusal and has gotten into trouble for it in the past. 
Pokémon Number: Number 8.
Intro post: Three cans of Red Bull – that had to be why everything felt so off. The last one had been at half seven, mind, so the caffeine running through her was probably on its last hour by now.  Even so, Nancy didn't like it at all; she was beginning to hear things. Just little things: the soft hum of Calliope Music and a gentle static. It was okay, she supposed – the Calliope music had a soft lull to it that almost brought her straight to sleep, until something else crackled to life and took her completely off guard.

"Yes, it's a problem."  Nancy blinked awake. Scratch putting it all down to Red Bull; this was something else.  Symcat, she recalled, was a good symptom checker, and so was Everyday Health.

"Things have split too far, I'm sorry to say. But we managed to get on the right side of the divide, and not a moment too soon. Now we can make a difference. A new life. A new start. What I've always wanted."  Nancy listened to the radio intently.  Normally, she'd be the first to say that she loved the sound of her own voice, but the tinny sound of 'Little Miss Nancy Thropp' being mature and – God, she couldn't tell what else she sounded like.  It didn't sound very good, though, and she didn't like it at all.

Soft light was beginning to filter through her curtains, and she shut her eyes against it.  Everything was weird enough without actually having to acknowledge that this was happening, and that things were genuinely wrong.  She rolled over to face the wall and pulled her duvet over her head.  That was better; no light and she could only barely hear the radio now.

"It's going to be a beautiful day in my neighbourhood."

Christ.

(I'm really dumb and have just realised that I'm going on holiday tomorrow but I'll be back on Wednesday so if I'm inactive for a bit once you start it's not because I'm physically unable to commit to something for more than an hour, it's just because I'm dumb)

[Wolstenholme]

I know if I hadn't reserved at least 70 people would have attempted to join in the night so I was basically just reserving it until I woke up and could actually think.

Name: Cecilio Mendoza. Known as 'Checo' - It's cooler than Cecilio.
Age, gender: Male, 19.
Looks: Checo is an attractive young man despite his height. He is shorter than most every other man he meets but fortunately not shorter than some of the ladies. He stands, then, at about 5"5 with quite a stocky build. His skin is tanned to a healthy and unblemished honey glow. Checo has fair hair, a similar colour to his skin. The hair is soft and makes a small quiff curling back from his forehead. He also has present facial hair in a small goatee and tash that shape his even features - brown eyes, rounded nose and a smallish mouth. As a general rule, Checo wears plain polo shirts and jeans but sometimes sports a matching baseball cap. He has an unseen tattoo on his inner arm, a black silhouette of a tiger (this is less a looks thing, as no one will see it, more of a personality thing, so much to say that he's the type of guy who would get a tattoo).
Personality: Checo brims with self-confidence, possibly more than he needs - although he is blissfully unaware - making him occasionally seem slightly obnoxious or ignorant. Checo maintains a charming exterior but can be blind to the emotions of others. Checo does have other interests, surprising though that is, he is a borne curious explorer and enjoys finding solutions. He embraces team work and being around others rather than working alone. What Checo isn't a particular fan of is technology. When using a computer or other modern contraptions Checo has learnt lessons about exploring with settings because he once managed break his computer (he still does not understand how) and had to get a new one. When it comes to technology, Checo will stick to simple commands and go no further without asking others. For this reason, Checo has never played Pokemon but is aware of its existence through some of his friends.
Pokémon Number: 4.
Intro post:
Checo woke up early as always - he never woke up late otherwise there would be less of the day to enjoy - and splashed water at his face ready for the action packed day he had planned. He carefully ironed his yellow polo shirt and put it on along with a pair of jeans and his yellow baseball cap since it was summer.

When Checo entered the open plan kitchen/lounge/dining room area of his one bedroom apartment he immediately knew that something was wrong. The radio was on, and this never happened as Checo didn't have time for sitting and listening to old fogies speak about boring things - Checo was a 'without breakfast' guy. He went to turn the radio off when he noticed something else very wrong. The person on the radio had a very familiar voice, Checo's own voice. "Things have split too far, I'm sorry to say. But we managed to get on the right side of the divide, and not a moment too soon. Now we can make a difference. A new life. A new start. What I've always wanted." Huh? What exactly was it talking about? Checo shook his head and turned the radio off anyway.

Turning around to close and lock the door as he left the house, Checo noticed something else. What now? I'm already late! He raged inwardly. But this seemed like it could be more important that his outing. The contraption - it looked like some sort of hi-tec watch - sat on the coffee table with a quickly scrawled note in Checo's own writing. The note had instructed him to meet 'us' at the park and Checo's curiosity had peaked, he simply had to find out what was going on. He stuffed the contraption and note in his satchel and ran out of the house without locking the door, although that didn't matter, there was a strange lack of people anyway.

[Shaymin]

Name: Quinn Brewer
Age, gender: 20, male
Looks: Quinn is the quintessential (haha) tall, lanky gamer bro. His skin is pale and he's got a messy, curly mop of ginger hair that he hates looking after. His skin is mottled with freckles and his bright blue eyes are framed by large glasses, which he actually needs. His usual attire is a black long sleeved shirt with some sort of gaming reference shirt on top, which is currently a purple shirt with "People Like Grapes" on it. He wears comfortable, dark jeans and big red hi tops. God, what a nerd.
Personality: Quinn is a shy kid, if you could call him a kid. He prefers solitude, and is very much an introvert. Quinn does, however, become an excitable idiot when he makes friends with people - and even if it takes time and energy he can prove to be a valuable friend. Quinn can be defensive - but being tall, skinny and ginger to boot has meant for most of his life he has had to be defensive from the cruelty of other people his age. He's a follower, not a leader, and will usually defer judgement of important things to others rather than make the tough decision himself.
Pokémon Number: gimme the pink white number 9
Intro post:

All that stuff the radio had said had to be bogus, right?

"Gran?" Quinn slowly emerged from his room, pushing his messy hair from his face and pushing his glasses up his nose. There was no reply. Was she okay? Maybe she'd hurt herself. Maybe she'd just popped out for a cigarette. Yeah. That was the explanation.

Dressing and wandering downstairs, he browsed through the fridge and pulled out a cold slice of pizza, munching on it lazily. That was when he turned and spotted the funny looking watch on his table. Scratching his head, he swallowed the pizza in his mouth and looked curiously at it. That looked... familiar.

He approached it cautiously. It couldn't be his Gran's - daft old bird hated technology. She could barely change channels on the tv, let alone work something that was that complex looking. There was a note next to it - in his handwriting? - 'Meet us in the park.'. Gross. That meant going outside. Picking  up the watch - was it a watch? - he slipped it in to the pocket of his jeans and grumbled, picking up his keys and leaving the house. This had better be worth it - he was wasting precious coding and gaming time!

[Inferna]

((woo form time! Thought I'd do it now bc I'm getting eye drops later and will most likely be blind for a while lmao))

Name: Skye Logan
Age, gender: 20, female
Looks: Skye is quite petite and slim. She has wavy light brown hair that sits on her back. 90% of the time it is usually tied up in a ponytail. She has a short blunt fringe that frames her small face. She still has a dinky little nose and a slightly squint smile. Her complexion is a little on the pale side, but she usually has on a light tone of foundation to brighten her skin. Skye's eyes are a green colour, leaning towards the colour brown.
Skye dresses in a thick woolly pink and black speckled jumper, tight skinny jeans and a pair of floral canvas boots with her jeans tucked into them. Occasionally she wears a cream woolly hat. She is one of those people who dresses in "jumper weather" all year.
Personality: As cliche as it sounds, Skye very much fits her name because she's always day dreaming or not really paying attention to much. She gets lost in her own thoughts or fantasies. This tends to cause people to think she is cold or rude. Despite her aloof nature, Skye is actually a very warm and friendly person and loves meeting new people. One of the things that go hand in hand with daydreaming is overthinking. Skye can be extremely indecisive and is not someone you'd rely on in an emergency. Even simple decisions seem to faze her like: "Would you like to go to burger king or MacDonalds?" So due to that Skye wouldn't make the greatest of leaders.
Pokémon Number: 5
Intro post: *do my intro later*

[Danatales]

Name: Toby Kozlov
Age, gender: 19, Male
Looks: 5'6" and very chubby, Toby is not exactly a "catch", nor does he really care. His has plump cheeks, a round noise, and his face is often quite stubbly. He black gauges in his ears that he loves. He has short, dark brown hair that's often slicked back and a little spiky, and rich, deep brown eyes to match. His skin has a light brownness to him, denoting his Moroccan heritage. He has large hands that he usually keeps them shoved into his jacket pockets. His favored outfits are usually heavy hoodies and dark colored jeans, and usually a well-worn pair of sneakers to match. His face is often set in a lightly-annoyed scowl.
Personality: Toby is a very grumpy person. He has a stressed relationship with his family that's often got him on edge and irritable. Snide and quiet, he can usually be spotted on the fringes of the room rolling his eyes and grumbling a little whenever someone makes a comment he deems stupid. Toby's often seen with a cigarette in his mouth, and stress smokes fairly often. Before this bizarre radio incident he used to sell pills and other unsavory goods around his college campus to help pay for school. For all his grumpiness, though, Toby is fond of the people he considers friends and is highly intelligent, especially in his areas of expertise: art history and classic heavy metal, which he could ramble on about for hours in excitement. He dislikes seeing people sad or lost and tries to offer some advice, but he's not really the best at it.
He's never played Pokemon himself, but one of his closer friends did pretty frequently, so he learned a lot about it through friend osmosis. He does love animals, though.
Pokémon Number: Lucky #3!
Pokemon: Slugma - Male (Caravaggio)
Intro post:

I'm high. That's what happened. High or I'm still asleep.

Toby staggered out of his room, combing back his hair with thick fingers and groaning quietly. He had been sound asleep when his radio had kicked on and left him with what had to have been one of the weirdest things he'd ever listened to: his own voice, rambling about new life and a beautiful day and sounding completely out of his damn mind. It'd woken Toby up and left completely baffled, left to assume sometime last night he must have taken some of his own sales materials before going to bed.

He checked his phone, hoping maybe it wasn't just him who'd been woken up by the weird radio message. Sadly, though, the only recent messages he could see was the conversation he'd been having back and forth with B before going to bed, the grumbling and complaining about how he was supposed to go to his mom's house today and pick up some of his stuff she was going to throw out into the street otherwise. Toby frowned, shoving his phone back into his pocket. So he was alone, then. Alone in the early hours of the day and feeling like gravel was stuffed into his eyes. I was supposed to get up early today, he thought bitterly. Well, this time of morning was early, wasn't it?

As he walked into the kitchen, he noted things seemed a bit...eerily quiet. Usually his grandparents could be heard shifting and snoring from their bedroom down the hall, but tonight the world around him seemed dead. He passed by the dining room table, and paused suddenly. "...What the hell?" he whispered, coming over. On the table was some watch-looking device, a high-tech object he knew his grandparents hadn't bought. There was something next to it, a note, too. Meet us at the park.

"...When did I write this?" Toby blinked, brow furrowing as he picked up the machine and turned it over in his hand. The note was in his handwriting. The radio had been in his voice. And now there was....this thing. He felt a bit overwhelmed. God, maybe I should go to the park then.  Obviously he wouldn't have written it if it wasn't important. So, carefully shoving the small machine in his pocket, Toby went to the door, still fairly convinced he was a bit under the influence of something or other. He went out in the unnervingly still day, and hoped the walk would clear his head.

[Sebastian Moran]

/gasps

yes that is five (5) forms accepted out of five! confetti for everyone. 
and also i enjoyed reading them, which is a good sign.

gimme the pink number 9

worth pointing out that #9 is the white one, though. although it is a bit pink i guess, it might be my laptop. it's less pink than the pink one though. which was taken already. maybe you had a lucky escape.

(I'm really dumb and have just realised that I'm going on holiday tomorrow but I'll be back on Wednesday so if I'm inactive for a bit once you start it's not because I'm physically unable to commit to something for more than an hour, it's just because I'm dumb)

why i outta /shakes fist 
nah it is fine, i have no idea what speed this thing will move at so we will Agree to make a group effort to bundle Nancy along with us until you return, instead of leaving her in a tree or something. 

((Can you save me a spot plz Mark? I'll get my form done later tonight or tommorow.))

yes i will Allow that, partly because i managed to be a whole day late with the character form for my own RP thread, which is slightly impressive. 
 
speaking of which, a Form i shall post now. 
excitingly, it looks like we will have TWO gingers. i think that's a bingo.



Name: Ruben Leger
Age, gender: 21 and male

Looks: Pretentious and ginger. Appears to style himself like some kind of artist, with his beard, piercings, cigarettes and dark clothing. Unfortunately his freckles somewhat ruin the effect, as well as the fact that he has no artistic talent whatsoever. He doesn't even have green eyes to match the rest of his colouring, just blue ones, although he is pale enough that he looks like he'd burst into flames in the daylight.
Ruben's of medium height (5'11") and build, having that weird shape where somebody is skinny and flabby at the same time, and has several tattoos, most of which are covered by his black long-sleeved jacket or fingerless gloves.
Along with those he wears a (black) newsboy cap, jeans which have seen better days, some unassuming shirt (red today) and trainers which have worn down to an ambiguous grey. In his opinion, his hair clashes with any more adventurous colours, even safely restrained under his hat (expect remarkable hat hair to lurk beneath).
I have an image of him, for added excitement. Ha ha nerd.

Personality: So not an artist, but melodramatic enough to be one. Ruben tends to curse his bad luck even before something bad happens to him, ready to get a head start on panicking about things. Paranoid is too strong a word, but he's certainly suspicious of people and things, particularly if they're new. He's the sort of person who enjoys horror and urban legends, while at the same time getting easily terrified.
On the plus side, he's quite dynamic. Even with the lack of artistic ability, he will still give things a go, and doesn't give up easily. Expect obstacles to be ploughed through, so long as he can complain about it while doing so. And also complain about everything and everyone else, because it's anything but his own fault when his methods are ineffective.

Pokémon: Shellder
Intro post is all the way down here.
 

[Shaymin]

also you may have to skip me for the next fourish days cause i'll be in scotland with about 0 internet B:

[The Shrub Dragon]

it might have been a good idea to've let you all know i was back when i came back so uh


i;m back i've got internet

[Hahex and Oshawott]

Name: Luke San
Age, gender: 17, Male
Looks: Where he comes from he may be considered pretty tall, but by Western standards he's only of an average-ish height. Lanky, then, may not be the correct word to describe him but he isn't especially strong, physically. Not an attractive skinniness, but a sort of slightly malnourished kind.

Luke dislikes long haircuts, and the local barbershop can really take their time, so often it can grow very messily before getting it cut. Usually about round when it reaches his eyes, so never longer than that (although he often cuts his fringe himself to prolong getting it cut properly).

He needs glasses for reading but otherwise keeps them off (but his opticians recommend him to keep them on at all times). They're simply a square-rimmed black pair, the cheapest in the store, but with all the anti-glare filter shenanigans. Everyday, he usually defaults to wearing the same pair of faded jeans and grey fleece, zipped up all the way, even on the warmest days.
Personality: Quiet, but polite among strangers. Tries not to draw too much attention to himself and has difficulties maintaining a conversation with new people (but then who doesn't?) There are not many people that Luke feels totally comfortable with opening up to. His younger brother is one of them.

Although he spends most of his time studying, he would much rather be playing video games. At least that was true, once upon a time, but the last game he ever played was Pokemon Gold, which was a very very long time ago. Nowadays, he keeps himself much too occupied with his studies. He's entered a critical stage in his studies, after all.  But at the end of the day, Luke enjoys some piano practise, to some mixed responses from his neighbours.
Pokémon Number: Although Luke doesn't believe in luck, if he had a lucky number it would be 7. So there we go.
Intro post: As Luke finished a page of his notes, he heard a soft music coming from somewhere. Perhaps his brother was still somehow still up and practising the piano. It was getting late for him and he had to be ready for the school the next day. Just as he was about to get up to get his brother to bed, Luke stopped as he heard something else.

"Yes, it's a problem."

The music wasn't from downstairs, the piece was far too complex for little Mark to be playing it. And the voice certainly didn't come from the living room. It was from the radio alarm clock that your parents had gotten you for your 14th birthday.
"Things have split too far, I'm sorry to say. But we managed to get on the right side of the divide, and not a moment too soon. Now we can make a difference. A new life. A new start. What I've always wanted."
Luke had definitely heard the voice before, but had no idea who it could belong to. Unless... He hit himself for not realizing sooner. It was certainly his own voice. But it didn't sound like a recording (how could it? He'd never spoken those words before). His mind, inspired by talk of the divide, immediately rushed to ideas of time travel and parallel universes, but he knew that surely it couldn't be right. Aside from the fact that any theories regarding them were extremely lacklustre, Luke knew for certain that even though he had never said those words, he had thought about similar things, in a daydream. It sounded like the radio was echoing his deepest thoughts.

The sun began to shine through Luke's curtain blinds, even though it had only just turned midnight not two minutes ago. Perhaps the clock on his radio was broken? He turned back to his bedside table. Sure enough, the red LEDs showed 00:02. The music stopped. Actually, it had stopped a while ago, but it felt like it took everything with it. The hum of his laptop wasn't there, the sound and buzz of electricity wasn't there, the creaking of the floorboards as the temperature dropped wasn't there. There was complete and utter silence, but Luke only registered that on a very surface level, as he looked out his window.

His parents alone owned two cars for the whole family and often had problems looking for places to park on the fairly populous road they lived on. But now, not a single one was to be seen. Even if the birds were just as confused as Luke, they should at least be up and singing. Or were they still asleep somehow? What time was it supposed to be?

"It's going to be a beautiful day in my neighbourhood."

Neighbourhood? That was odd, Luke had never thought much about his neighbourhood before. His neighbours on one side would always be complaining about his late night practise, although the others didn't seem to mind much. But to talk about neighbourhood would be a strange thing to mention so off-handedly. Maybe he was just being melodramatic when he thought about how the radio mirrored his soul and dreams. It does sound like sophistic nonsense, thinking back.

His brother was usually still up at this time, reading manga under the covers. Luke rushed across the corridor to his room. He had an uncomfortable feeling in his gut. He opened the door and practically threw the duvet off his brother's desk. There was nothing  there, not even a book. He looked under the bed. A mess, for sure, but no living being. Inside the wardrobes? A neat row of shirts but that was about it. Perhaps he needed to use the bathroom? That was the room next to this one. The light wasn't on, but maybe the sun was already up when Mark needed to go. Luke took a deep breath and knocked. No response. He slammed the door open, finding it unlocked. And, needless to say, also empty.

Panic began to set in, a feeling that Luke wasn't entirely used to. He rushed up the next set of stairs to his parent's room. Usually, he would knock before entering and wouldn't dare of disturbing them at this time, but Luke simply didn't care any more. Once again, he threw the door open to find a neatly made bed in front of him. Luke had seen the lack of cars, felt the unnerving stillness and found no one else. It was unlike him to rush to conclusions, but he was quite possibly alone.

Back down the stairs, into the main room. At least this time, he was prepared for the shock.

The room was of course, meticulously clean. Luke's mother always cleaned it rigorously after every meal. The table shone with a certain gleam to it. Without thinking, Luke wandered over towards the piano on the other side, but not before catching a flash of green in the corner of his eye. There, on the kitchen counter. Some sort of strange device, reminiscent of those android watches that Luke was reading about a while back. But it looked a little clunky in comparison, certainly not designed within the last couple of years. But more importantly was the note left next to it. Luke picked it up. He couldn't read it straight away, but he could recognise that scrawl anywhere. It was his own messy handwriting, like Onix tracks as his brother would often remind him.

Meet us in the park, it read.

Onix tracks... Luke inspected the watch a little further. 12:25. A memory stirred in his brain.
"Ah, of course. Then, this could be interesting. But I wish you were here as well. This is the cruel fate that I've been assigned, I suppose."

He jammed the watch and note in his pocket, along with his glasses. He picked up his fleece off the coat hanger and slipped on his trainers. He tied up his laces and zipped up.

"I imagine where I'm going, I won't need keys. But I hope that when I finally get back, I can trust you to open the door for me, once again."

Luke still remembered the way to the park, even though he hadn't actually been inside it for around ten years. Was that right? He hadn't been since he was seven years old? What a sad childhood. He stepped foot outside the door, and into the light.

[Danatales]

so hey what exactly is the status of this RP? I just noticed it's been like... 2+ weeks since it was initially posted and there's been no other info. Is it still going to start at some point? I'm honestly just curious 8U

[Sebastian Moran]

yeah sorry that was my bad D: 
i've had to sort some stuff out in "real life", whatever that is, hence the lack of activity. 
 
bUT pokemon have been allocated! everyone has been accepted! the post has been made! we are off!
if anyone has second thoughts about this RP (given that there's been a massive gap and some people may be going back to school and things), then please just let me know/post here. 
 
one day i will master the art of non-rambly posts. but not today.

let's do this thing!!! finally.

pokemon have been edited into the first post. go and have a look, and maybe wish that you'd picked another number (too late now).
you can however put them in your form if you'd like, and give them a name and other sorts of things to flesh them out.



It took Ruben a few moments to decipher the chicken-scratchings on the note, which revived a terrifying memory of trying to revise for exams in years gone past. On the occasions where he'd used his own notes, anyway. It-- somebody-- he himself wanted him to meet up with somebody, or something, in the park. Of course.

He gave the watch-like device a glance, held in his other hand as though he was trying to figure out which of the two objects made the least sense. At least the little machine didn't seem to be doing much to unnerve him. Aside from popping into existance in the first place.

Decisively, Ruben crumpled the note into a ball, but kept a hold of it. Really it was the only guide he had as to what was going on, and could even lead to an explanation. If it didn't, he was going to be annoyed. More so than he was already getting. The black watch gizmo went in one pocket-- for some reason he didn't trust it enough to wear it-- and the ball of paper went in the other.

Locking the door on leaving was probably optimistic. Every bend and crossroad in the street prompted him to stop and look around, as though he might spot somebody else after all, but that only confirmed the quiet, and gave his brain ample time to run through explanations. Maybe there had been a flooding of toxic gas, or a disease that he'd managed to miss completely. There could have been an evacuation. Maybe he'd slept for years.

He had just managed to think the word "zombies?" when he reached the park, but there still seemed to be nobody about. He walked a little further forward just to be sure, able to see buildings crowding around the grass on almost every side. Starting to shake and needing something to occupy his hands, Ruben reached in his pockets for a cigarette and lighter. The pack dragged out the watch he'd put in and forgotten about, and it fell onto the grass before he could catch it.

The knock to the ground turned the device from "useless" to "weird", lighting up and beeping like an alarm. Trying not to drop anything, he picked it up and started pressing buttons, but nothing happened. Instead, a small map showed up: that green shape had to be the park where he was now, a little black dot almost in its centre. And the other, different-coloured dots moving closer were...?

Ruben looked around, and by the time he had glanced back a small, red X had appeared, close by to where his marker was. And the other dots were still closing in on him, so he started walking.

If he had been expecting something grand, like a podium, beam of light, or maybe even a nice focal point like the park's fountain, he would have been disappointed. Luckily, he didn't know what to think, and so Ruben's only reaction to the small, frankly pathetic-looking sapling which was apparently the reason for all this fuss was: "What."

The little tree was maybe five foot tall, with a few skinny leaves and weak-looking branches, sagging under the weight of its fruit. If that even was fruit: there were eight of them, all different colours, and wait that one near the top was growing and didn't look anything like any fruit at all, white and black and metallic and getting heavier until it snapped clean off, dropping to the ground and splitting open in a flash of white light.

And then something materialised in his arms, and it was licking his face, and he actually, horrifyingly, screamed.

[Danatales]

((fwee! I'm glad this cool idea isn't dead in the water or anything ;u; VERY EXCITED LET'S DO THIS))

The walk was not clearing Toby's head. Not in the least. As he glanced down the empty streets on the way to the park he felt dread drooping further and further into his stomach. Is everyone dead? Christ, am I dead? Did I die in my sleep and this is hell or something? He thought nervously. Reaching in his hoodie pocket, Toby groped around until he found his cigarettes, hastily retrieving one and his lighter. Popping it in his mouth, he ducked his head down and flicked the lighter, igniting it and allowing him to take in one long, satisfied inhale.

Feeling a bit more calmed now, Toby huffed out a long stream of smoke, walking slowly and alertly. He knew the park wasn't much further now. He reached down into his other pocket and pulled out the device he'd found on his table along with the note. Frankly, he wasn't sure what it was. It was a lovely shade of orange, but looked too high tech to just be a watch. he tapped at it with finger, curious if it had an on-switch or anything. He breathed a laugh, recalling a friend of his who loved taking machines like this apart. He'd have a field day with this thing...

As he stepped foot on the first tinges of the park's grass, though, Toby's mind was torn from investigating the device and immediately focused on a new curiosity: the sound of screaming. Jerking his head up, he was surprised to see he could see...someone in the middle of the park, a faint figure, in front of something smaller and clearly not a person. He blinked, cigarette nearly tumbling from his lips. Is that who I'm supposed to meet?

He hustled forward now, moving as quick as he fat body could. He made it quite a few paces before the orange device in his hand started beeping. Loudly. With a yelp Toby nearly threw the thing across the grass in surprise, but thankfully he managed to hold onto it. Heartbeat thumping rapidly now, he held it up and noted it had turned on, its screen displaying a splotch of green that had to be the park. And...a tiny dot of orange...was that him?

Examining this further he walked, Toby noted he was approaching a black dot near a red X on the screen. Glancing back up, he licked his lips, figuring that was the figure he'd been seeing. But what was that red X? He moved faster, also spying a slew of other colored dots approaching the park as well. What the hell is going on? He thought.

Finally, he was close enough to see what he deducted to be the source of the scream. It was another young man, only a few feet away, and there was a....thing in his hands, licking him. Unfortunately, Toby barely had enough time to process this before he noticed what he figured had been the red X: a bizarre baby tree, sagging with even more bizarre rounded fruits. Or, were they fruits, really? Toby stumbled forward a few steps, looking at the tree in wonder, and his eyes fell upon an orange orb nestled amidst he scraggly branches, growing bigger and bigger suddenly, clearly no fruit he'd ever seen.

Then the orange orb grew so large it popped right off the tree, and hit the ground with a solid thunk, before bursting open in a flash of light that Toby never would have expected.

And then he was shielding his face, a wave of massive heat before him suddenly, the smell of burnt grass assaulting his nostrils. When he finally pulled his hand away and saw what had burst from the weird tree orb, the only sound he could make was a frightened and vaguely disgusted 'eeugh?!'

He still felt heavily uncertain that he wasn't high.