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md5: e7daa78db4e0d67077759cb9ded4233a
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Quest Hub (stats, party, location, neofauna information, date, time, etc.): https://rentry.org/PokepocalypseQST
Quest Archive: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Pok%C3%A9pocalypse%20Revival (Start here if you want to catch up on the quest's previous threads!)
Updates will be attempted daily! At worst, expect an update every 2 days instead of one. Absences will be announced in advance and given definitive end dates if I can manage it.
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In the year 1884, within a world much like our own, the country has fallen under threat from all manner of otherworldly creatures!
Demons have begun laying waste to our great United States! They wield powers matched only by nature's own, combatting her natural fauna with their own unnatural forces! Control over fire, lightning, even one's own perception of reality... such creatures are not to be trifled with, and best avoided!
Yet, despite this common-sense advice, there exist people eager to ignore it! Walter Roy Buchanan, an aspiring naturalist from New York state, is one such person. He believes not in these demons' immense danger to human life, but in their utility to humanity! He sees them as more than mere threats-- instead, he considers these "neofauna" to be the key to humanity's future.
Walter carries with him four such creatures: a wounded sheep with the power to rend Heaven's lightning unto earth, dubbed "Mary"; a gentle silkworm five times the size of his earthly ilk, dubbed "Taylor"; an anxious young elemental with the power to paralyze his foes, dubbed "Florian"; a fiery young stallion with a mane made of flame, dubbed "Aster".
He is joined, too, by two human companions: a wealthy state-and-businessman known as Thomas J. Steele (with his own demon, dubbed Indiana), and Thomas' hired bodyguard: a man by the name of "Andrew," whose own interest in demons almost seems to match Walter's enthusiasm!
These three gentlemen belong to a group of rebels named the Staters, brought together by State Governor C. P. Huntington's atrocities and kept together by their intimidating leader: Aaron Muyr. They have recently suffered multiple consecutive losses: their headquarters were compromised, several of their members were killed in a raid on their base of operations, and the entire city's military presence has been strengthened in response to their activities... all within merely a few days! The Staters exist now as a motley band of young men and other disgruntled citizens, working to dethrone Huntington and save California state from his murderous hatred of neofauna, never meeting in the same place for longer than an evening so as to avoid further disaster. Walter has become an invaluable asset to the group, working to boost their morale and teach members about how best to befriend and utilize neofauna to their advantage while personally tutoring Muyr in the matter for payment.
With his family in peril and one of the safest cities on the west coast in active danger, Walter finds himself split multiple ways. Mary, his closest companion, remains badly wounded from an overnight ambush in her stables. Sacramento, still caught within Huntington's iron grip, seems to be suppressing news about the Staters and boosting headlines on the dangers of neofauna. Walter's family remains trapped in a turbulent New York, unresponsive to his various letters and with a quarter of its members known missing. Walter remains haunted by a pair of otherworldly neofauna with the ability to invade his thoughts-- in fact, the hundredth kind of "native Californian fauna" he requires to complete his original goal of documenting California's wildlife for a bounty of ten-thousand dollars-- while he struggles to comprehend the otherworldly transformation Andrew's small red chick has recently undergone. All of this is joined by the young man's upcoming reputation as a local hero, brought about after he saved numerous small towns from various types of destruction... at the hand of the creatures he dedicates so much of himself to studying.
As Walter's world has become evermore chaotic and uncertain, the young naturalist has taken it upon himself to confirm the safety of someone very important to him...
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>Saturday, August 23rd, 1884. It is midday in the great city of Sacramento.
>A number of recent tragedies have begun to weigh on your mind. You sit, now, in your hotel room. Upon your desk lays a blank piece of paper, soon to become a letter to your distant family... if only you can stop procrastinating and actually get to writing it.
Right...
You knew that she didn't want to hear about neofauna, so you decided to save that for later. As an opener...
Ma,
...it would do.
You sat there, wracking your brains on what to say. You couldn't just tell her everything at face value. She'd be struck dead by all the neofauna work you had been doing. Befriending a flaming horse...
You could obfuscate this somehow, couldn't you? You didn't want to, but you knew your mother. You were certain that, if you didn't spare the details, she would spend months worrying about you to the point of sickness.
I can't tell you how much I miss you. With everything that has happened... I am just happy that you are safe.
You hoped.
God, you had been forcing your family out of your mind for so long. It was hard to even think about them now, with how it affected you.
Ignoring the waves of emotion tearing you this way and that, you continued writing.
I have continued my studies dutifully. I know you would rather be spared the details, but I think it would be important to tell you that I now have transport and plenty of security. I hope I will be finding my way back home soon, to all of you.
That comma was placed correctly, you figured. Punctuation was never your strongest suit...
My specific transport seems to be rather spoiled. He reminds me of Robbie from time to time, huffing and puffing at his place in the world. He acts as if I am not good enough to ride on him yet and I find it very funny. Do know I have multiple other means of transport if he does not decide to cooperate.
You pulled out a few neatly-wrapped packages from your trunk. You'd taken extra precautions to keep them intact, with each package being double-wrapped in a silk underlayer and plenty of blankets atop that...
...but, once you got to the underlayer, you figured it a better gift to leave the silk over top.
All three packages were sat beside the letter. You would have to mail them separately.
I made sure to get the twins gifts. If they don't arrive by September First, deliver them immediately upon their arrival. I can promise you they have nothing to do with neofauna or nutberries.
Another glance at the silk covering the actual gifts gave you an idea. You tugged on each one carefully, making sure it could last an entire bumpy trip... as you'd expected, the silk held firmly. Taylor had delivered his usual quality.
I have wrapped them in a material that has become trivial to me, but may help the rest of you.
Of the creatures I have found, one is able to produce remarkable amounts of silk at will. His personality is such that I am never short of the stuff, and I felt it would be unkind to hoard such a valuable material all to myself.
That was enough on neofauna for now.
The third gift contains one for each of you. The pups could not get anything special, but I made sure to get Looker something he could share with them. I hope all of you enjoy your gifts and what they offer you.
You'd nearly forgotten until now...
I'm not sure if you received my previous mail yet. I wrote to you not long ago, but have yet to receive any responses to what was addressed in that letter. Please do let me know if you received the mail.
God, you felt like a businessman talking to a child. You wanted to say more, in a less controlled manner. You wanted to hug your mom and tell her everything was going to be alright. That you were going to see her soon, and that the rest of your siblings would be safe.
You wanted to see your dad again, and hear of his war stories. You wanted to help him assemble jig-saw puzzles and talk about the future. You wanted, so badly, just to know he was okay...
But here you were, writing a letter that you didn't even expect to reach your family, speaking as if you could say nothing of your current circumstances. Writing as if you barely knew them in some desperate attempt to keep your mother calm.
Your troubles left you through a sigh. You leaned against your chair and gave the nutberry sprout to your left a glance. The white flowers adorning it seemed healthy enough. Its leaves seemed green and vigorous...
You were procrastinating again.
I wish dearly to know how you are. All of you. I am unaware of the East outside of the news, and the news has not been very kind. The City seems drowned in the same kind of unrest now capturing Sacramento, and I do hope that it hasn't made an attempt on any of you.
You decided not to name Keith or Robbie.
I can only pray for safety, and I shall do so as often as I can.
I have recently heard word of an enormous, aquatic type of neofauna saving men from a conflict in the Orient. It has reminded me to stay hopeful and believe in miraculous rescue, even in times as dark as these, and I simply request that you mimic such faith.
Of course you had to bring up neofauna... it kept nagging at your mind. Her horror-- the refusal to see how they could help...
If Mabel can see the good in these creatures, I trust that the rest of my family also has such capacity within them. I would not be nearly as safe as I am without my own companions, and I implore you all to find some of your own, if not for companionship then for the sake of the farm. I am unsure of how long natural earthen creatures will last in this world, and I suspect they may be outclassed by their neofaunic counterparts sooner rather than later.
Sigh. What a way to end. By discussing exactly the thing your mother wanted to hear least. You had to make up for this... somehow.
Some other time, when you could think more rationally.
I pray that you are safe and that life is treating you well.
Yours truly,
Walter
With the final stroke of your pencil, you felt like a weight had been lifted off of your chest... and placed onto your back.
You hadn't thought about your family at all in this huge chaos. You'd kept your mind focused on the tasks at hand so much that an entire week's worth of worries were now catching up with you.
The next few hours would be spent on your hotel bed... relaxing.
There was nothing in the world that you needed to do more at that moment... and you felt your rest well-earned.
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After a quiet lunch on the outskirts of Sacramento, you had returned to the city to fulfill the promise you had made to Bart.
You were left baffled, though, upon actually entering the Sacramento Bee's offices.
You'd... never been to a newspaper's office before.
It was hard to imagine the sight before you.
Innumerable amounts of men sat in front of an equally mystifying amount of desks, machines, tables...
Bookshelves lined every wall, papers spilling halfway out of their doors. More scattered the floor-- half-printed sheets of copy or scrap paper used for notes and absentminded doodles. Nobody seemed to mind you picking one up to confirm.
In fact... nobody seemed to mind much at all.
The entire office building was eerily quiet. Most people kept their heads down and their mouths shut. Few people could be seen even looking at each other, let alone talking to each other.
And then... you came along.
Once you entered, carrying the ailing Mary in your arms and donning Taylor upon your neck, all eyes turned to you.
"You're..."
"Is that..?"
The entire office erupted into whispered rumors.
Then, audible speech.
Suddenly, you were overwhelmed with a deluge of people whom you assumed to be reporters. Journalists? Press-writers... something.
"Is that yours?"
"What's your name? I think I already know it--"
"I don't, tell me please!"
"You can't be him, can you?"
"A demon! In here!"
Lord, it was getting hard to breathe with all the people crowding you. Eventually, you had to yell: "EVERYONE!"
Mary flinched at the shout, but you saw that she was thankful. The crowd was clearly starting to unnerve her.
"Everyone, ah... I'm Walter Buchanan," the crowd cheered as you spoke those words, so you paused for them to quiet down, "I'm jus'... I'm just here t' ask for some information!"
"What information?"
"Yeah, what?"
"Tell us, tell us!"
Jeez... the journalists were so eager to hear what you had to say that some already had notepads out.
"Well, for starters... don't go crowdin' around Mary like that, she doesn't like it." You kept your voice quiet, trying to tone down the energy of the room.
"I see something's happened with her leg..."
"Don't-- don' go writing about that." You tried not to snap, but some of that anger leaked into your tone. The man who'd pointed her bandaged leg out quickly shut up and nodded.
"And... don't go crowdin' around in general, jus'... keep your distance." That was more a selfish request than anything else. This building wasn't too large, and all the people crowding it only made it feel smaller.
"And... why're you all so eager t' talk t' me, anyways? Ah'm... I'm just passin' through." You mumbled.
Hardly a minute passed before another journalist answered your inquiry. "You're a hero!"
"A legend!"
"An absolute newspaper star, you'll make us thousands!"
Thousands? "What? Am-- you have t' explain this, please." You were baffled. What had you missed out on?
"At the saloon! You helped defend so many people!"
"Yeah, you saved so much of the city!"
"It's-- well, it's such a huge story, and..."
The excitement of the crowd began to fade as the journalists continued.
"Well, we would be making thousands off of it right now..." A meek, short man quipped.
"If we were 'llowed to!" A taller, skinnier man complained.
That answered one of your questions, at least...
"Don't talk 'bout it. Just keep yer mouth shut." Another man said, interjecting. He pushed his way through the crowd, all the way to you, and took a deep breath through his cigarette.
"Kid, nobody here's going to be readin' your story. Nothin' more than what the papers already pushed out, anyways."
All you could do was stare and blink, trying your hardest to ignore the smoke enveloping you and this man as you interpreted his words.
"I-- I have t' ask, why not?" You coughed.
Another puff of smoke your way. "Boss's orders. We ain't gonna publish anythin' to do with your demons, or th' ones at that big dumb saloon, or anythin' about that."
You were surprised at how receptive they were to the idea of neofauna--
--before the smoker opened his mouth again, sending you into a coughing fit and continuing to speak. "Shame. That kind'a fearmongerin' always makes us the big bucks. These things," he jabbed a finger in Mary's direction, "are perfect for that. But all we can do is report on all the small crimes. Some weird rat eatin' trash that's been left out too long. A flamin' horse tramplin' someone."
The second comment made you gulp. Had Sacramento had issues with Aster's kind for long enough that this kind of nonchalant statement of injury was normal?
...maybe this was a bad sample group for judging what was normal...
"Stuff that makes them look bad, sure, but not like anythin' more than a nuisance. It's stupid, see, 'n you'd be our ticket to glory... but we can't do that shit or we'll be fired." The man grunted, tapping his cigarette's butt over his pocket and tossing it on the ground.
A young man spoke up over the smoker, his voice indicating that he was barely out of puberty. "Well, we can't! But maybe..."
The same young man pushed his way into the crowd, finding an audience with you while sharing space with the smoker. In the man's hands was..
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md5: 5612e71be555680a41d2016fdc1f433e
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...a crude sketch of sorts.
The scene it depicted was hard to see through the muddled French text. It was poorly drawn, as well, with little shape or dimension to it beyond wayward hatching and inconsistent linework giving the illusion of further depth.
"It's... it's company property," the boy said, motioning for you to return the paper. Once you did, he went on. "If some officer saw you with it, I think you would get in trouble... but it's the least we can show you, right? As payment for, uh, everythin'."
You couldn't tell whether he was referring to the saloon raid or the fact that you were apparently this newspaper's cash cow.
"Anyways... what didja come in here for? Never took you t' be the reportin' type," the smoker spat.
Funny, that. "Well... ah came t' ask about all that... news not bein' printed." Your throat still hurt from the smoke, but you tried to speak as clearly as you could.
The crowd collectively expressed their disappointment. Some sighed, others groaned. More still said nothing at all.
"'Xactly the thing we can't tell you squat about. Wonderful." The smoker crossed his arms. "Tell you what. The boss's upstairs. We won't do anythin' if you try t' talk t' him, see how it goes. I'd advise ya bring a bag'a cash, but... seeing as that's not'n option, I s'ppose you'll have to find some other way to catch his attention."
Splendid. You were looking forward to dealing with more shady higher-ups.
But... did you really have a choice?
>Of course you had a choice. A choice not to do any of that. Stay with the journalists and ask them more details about the Oriental neofauna instead.
>No, not really. If you wanted to get this news published pronto, you had to negotiate. Thank the journalists for their time and head upstairs, hoping to meet with the boss.
>Write-in.
>>6280654Oh shit, the French have a MILOTIC, not a Gyarados.
>No, not really. If you wanted to get this news published pronto, you had to negotiate. Thank the journalists for their time and head upstairs, hoping to meet with the boss.We have to advocate for our friends,a s we did when writing to our family.
Welcome back, QM!
>>6280654>No, not really. If you wanted to get this news published pronto, you had to negotiate. Thank the journalists for their time and head upstairs, hoping to meet with the boss.Good to see you back!
>>6280677+1
Welcome back again QM, it's nice to see you again
>>6280654>No, not really. If you wanted to get this news published pronto, you had to negotiate. Thank the journalists for their time and head upstairs, hoping to meet with the boss.Good to have you back QM
>>6280677Some frenchie found an ugly fish and took to it so well that they really REALLY prettied it up one day, and...
I was stoked to see this thread today. Glad to have you back, QM.
>>6280654>No, not really. If you wanted to get this news published pronto, you had to negotiate. Thank the journalists for their time and head upstairs, hoping to meet with the boss.
>>6280654>No, not really. If you wanted to get this news published pronto, you had to negotiate. Thank the journalists for their time and head upstairs, hoping to meet with the boss.>just strollin the qst>see Pokepocalypse is back>mfw It's so good to see you again QM!
>>6280654>No, not really. If you wanted to get this news published pronto, you had to negotiate. Thank the journalists for their time and head upstairs, hoping to meet with the boss.
IT'S BACK!!! I was originally planning on taking my time catching up with this one since there wasn't an active thread... but then I saw it in the catalog and binge read what I hadn't got through yet.
Welcome back, QM; may your life and health be kind to you this year. Quite like this quest so far and looking forward to where we take it.
>>6280654>>No, not really. If you wanted to get this news published pronto, you had to negotiate. Thank the journalists for their time and head upstairs, hoping to meet with the boss.Though if bribery is called for perhaps we should see if Steele or Muyr are willing to back our play here. I assume Muyr would want at least one friendly outlet (although I wouldn't be surprised if he's already got people putting together pamphlets to hand out).
iirc the news at the time shouldn't be monopolized (or oligarchized I suppose) the way modern news media is. There should be any number of newspapers competing with each other with diverse opinions, many openly partisan; this is pre radio (seems like entertainment radio wasn't a thing until ~1920) so print is going to be king... now you could argue that things are a bit harder to operate in the frontier (even in a city this big) and under the governor's martial law...but it's only so long until some journo or another tires of being silenced.
If we're lucky all we need to turn the boss to our side is an exclusive interview and knowledge of how to tame neofauna (or get stuck writing a column about them). If we're not...
Also, is it just me, or is that a Milotic and not a Gyarados? Can Milotic really get that big, or have I been fooled by perspective this whole time? The art I find, like picrel, shows me they're seemingly the same size, but all the anime I remember watching I CLEARLY see Gyarados being larger...
>>6280953According to bulbapedia Gyrados is 21 feet 4 inches (6.5m) and 518 pounds (235kg) and Milotic is 20 feet 4 inches (6.2m) and 357lbs (162kg). So length wise they're about the same but Gyrados is going to be more heavily bodied.
>>6280953>>6280954Mon heights and weights are retarded. GameFreak force themselves to not use more than 3 digits for heights and 4 digits for weights. Ignore canon unless it is relevant, it makes for a better story re: heights and weights of mons
plotting
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>>6280654>No, not really. If you wanted to get this news published pronto, you had to negotiate. Thank the journalists for their time and head upstairs, hoping to meet with the boss.Write-in: offer the bossman a way to make even more cash by covertly printing the "undesirable news" on small pamphlets which can be sold to the populace by the staters. The best businessman eats from both sides.
>>6280954>>6281013I'll choose to believe it's a happy medium, where free ranged Pokémon usually grow larger than those in captivity.
Also, back this
>>6281065 . If the dude is a smart businessman and not totally scared to go up against the dude in power, then we can hopefully Door-In-The Face him, asking first for fair rep in his paper, then the pamphlet that would seem less extreme.
Oh, wow, that’s a lot of replies. 4chan isn’t letting me reply to them all! Thank you all for coming, I’m very flattered :)
We’ll be heading straight to the boss. I’ll start writing and hope I don’t fall asleep before I finish.
If you’re checking for IDs: I’m away from home for a week. It shouldn’t be too busy a trip, hence my continued posting, but my ID probably won’t remain too consistent and posting times might be a bit later on. nbd really.
On the topic of sizes: yeah, canon’s wack. I’m trying to follow a vague approximation of anime + canon + whatever my brain imagines, but really it’s all up in the air. Most Pokemon designs seem to kind of imply a certain size as-is (nobody’s going to be looking at an Aggron and considering it the size of a yorkshire terrier, for example), so I don’t think there should be any huge mix-ups with that. If there are any notable aberrations from the norm, I’ll try and make sure they’re described.
No, not really. If you wanted to get this news published as soon as possible, you had to negotiate with the publisher.
You echoed the crowd’s sighs and tried to put on a smile. “Well… thank you for promisin’ not t’ intervene, ‘n bein’ so supportive of all this.”
“‘S the least we could do, kid. If the boss keeps ignorin’ all the reckless stuff you’ve been doin’, we’ll be out of work in no time,” the smoker remarked. He took another puff of his cigarette, but by the time he was spewing more fumes you were already making your way towards the nearest staircase.
“Good luck!” A few voices called after you. More could be heard mumbling various things as you ascended the creaky wooden steps, but they began to drown each other out and were less and less audible the further-up you went…
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[i]KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK[/i]
Your knuckles were starting to hurt. This wood, whatever it was, seemed to be a rather sturdy type.
This was your fourth attempt at making yourself known. If the publisher didn’t open up after this, you were going to have to assume he wasn’t in his office. Just to be safe, you raised your voice.
“Sir, this matter is of some importance! If you’re in there, please let me in!” You heard your voice echo weakly down the staircase while waiting for a reply…
[i]creeeeeak[/i]
…that, to your great relief, was rather swift. You stepped back a little as the door in front of you began to open outward, the knob turned by an unknown hand and left to swing open soon after.
“Come in,” called a voice from inside. It sounded somewhat young— not unlike your own, perhaps somewhat less hoarse. “I can’t stand your knocking any more.”
You did as you were told, making sure to close the door behind you once you’d entered the publisher’s office.
The office looked no different to the headquarters downstairs. There were bits of paper strewn about on the floor, a haphazard scattering of bookshelves lining the walls, and a general air of disarray about the place. The window’s blinds were half-crooked, the furniture either noticeably aged or brand new, the publisher himself… staring down at his desk, holding his head in one hand and playing with a pencil in the other.
“Be quick. I don’t have all the time in the world,” he mumbled. The man’s apparent youth seemed stifled by his appearance. His brown hair was unkempt and uncut, clearly meant to be shorter than it was, while his button-like nose seemed to fit improperly on his excessively long face.
In front of the publisher himself sat a nameplate, presumably bearing his name: [i]Herman Mark McClatchy, Publisher.[/i]
“I’ll try ‘s best I can, Mr. McClatchy,” you promised. You took a seat opposite him, sitting far away enough from the desk to give Mary space to rest, and wasted no time in addressing your concerns.
“My name’s Walter Buchanan, ‘n I just wanted to ask why you were suppressin’ important news’ve neofauna from your paper.” You caught yourself, and made sure he knew what you were talking about. “News’ve demons from your paper.”
You saw McClatchy’s pencil slow to a stop. The man himself looked at you from the desk, meeting your eyes without moving his head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Was he playing dumb, or did he think those small incidents were newsworthy enough to count? Best be honest either way. “Two days ago, I was part’ve a big conflict in the city centered ‘round demons, but i’ve heard nothin’ of it in the news.“
The publisher said nothing. He simply held his stare. You continued. “Yesterday, somethin’ even bigger, also t’ do with demons, happened in the Orient. Your paper’s not mentioned that either.”
McClatchy let silence reign for another minute or so. “I don’t see why that’s a problem, stranger, and I don’t appreciate you implicatin’ me in any kind’a cover-up.”
“It’s not much’ve a problem, sir, if you just leave it at that.” You kept your tone steady and your arms underneath Mary. “But I can only assume you’re coverin’ somethin’ up, because I have it on good word that you’re still publishin’ demon stories. Small ones, mostly to do with individual incidents ‘n Sacramento.”
“[i]Then there’s no problem,[/i]” the publisher interrupted. He pulled his head away from his hand and met your gaze at eye level. You weren’t expecting to be unnerved by the action, but there was something piercing about the man’s demeanor. “I’m publishin’ what I feel’s important to the folks’ve Sacramento, and informin’ them of demons while I’m at it.”
McClatchy faltered for a moment. You noticed him eyeing Taylor, then Mary. “That you have the nerve to accuse me of a cover-up while bringing those bastards ‘n here… who do you think you are?”
Though that comment bothered you, your determination to get Bart’s story published helped calm your nerves. “I’ve already introduced myself, mister McClatchy. If it helps keep all this simple, I’m just a man with a question ‘n an offer.”
“An offer?” McClatchy interrupted again, catching himself before he could say anything else.
“Well,” you looked away to try and avoid admitting that you’d come up with that on the spot, “a question first’n foremost.”
You cleared your throat. “Mr. McClatchy, are you tellin’ the whole truth? Are you really just publishin’ what you feel is important t’ the people of Sacramento… or are you bein’ paid t’ say that? Paid, or threatened, not t’ let them hear of the bigger stuff?”
McClatchy’s discomfort began to turn hostile. “Why exactly should I tell you if I was?”
He was looking to both Mary and Taylor again. His hands were trembling slightly. You couldn’t help but feel a little bad about putting him on the spot like this, but this cause was greater than your own discomfort. The people of Sacramento deserved to know about these things, and you felt it rather convenient that not even the smaller newspapers were reporting on such giant events.
The question, now, was how to walk the fine line of convincing McClatchy. How exactly could you go about doing that without getting thrown out?
>Press harder. Mention the frustration of McClatchy’s underlings and question how long McClatchy can avoid publishing news on such huge events. It’s the most uncomfortable route for sure, but given McClatchy’s unsteady character it might be worth a shot.
>Try to emphasize the importance of fair coverage. Mention how a story about demons assisting humans could help give the people hope, and how that hope might draw people to the Bee and bring in more revenue. Mention offhandedly that constant negative coverage might be driving some people away.
>Pivot. Offer to let him have his cake and eat it too by printing the news you think he’s being paid to suppress on smaller pamphlets. It wouldn’t help the Bee become any more well-known, but it could offer McClatchy enough revenue to help maintain it for longer, so he might still bite.
>Write-in.
>>6281407I don't think he's unsteady, I think he might actually be scared of Mary...
>Write-inAs a show of good faith, send our Neofauna out for a moment.
Then, mention the enormity of the news he's missing. The French colonials being saved by sea serpents is WILD, but there's crazier happening here, people interacting with Neofauna for good, and yes, sometimes bad. If he doesn't publish it, he'd miss out. Journalistic history would pass him by all because some bureaucrat said not to. His employees want it, his readers would only expand. Never mind the cash, he'd elevate the Bee to new heights!... but, if he truly cannot publish it, then at least ask him to do the pamphlets. People who associate with demons aren't demons themselves, and deserve a fair shake.
>>6281405>>6281406>>6281407>Pivot. Offer to let him have his cake and eat it too by printing the news you think he’s being paid to suppress on smaller pamphlets. It wouldn’t help the Bee become any more well-known, but it could offer McClatchy enough revenue to help maintain it for longer, so he might still bite.My write-in made it! :)
Let me write in some things that could probably help this along:
- Press him a bit more about the being paid off thing - if he admits as much, our offer becomes easier to make. We of course respect him abiding by the demands placed upon him by the powers at hand, of course, but a bit of revenue on the side would help him in these days, right? (Cue to where we point at the disarrayed state of his office and the general trouble his staff has with the censorship.)
- Mention the absolute size of the French story (major geopolitical event!), along with the profits it could bring.
- Mention the troubles and stirrings a-brewing in Sacramento. It would not be beneficial to be seen as a collaborator if the Huntington were to be... unceremoniously demoted to soil fertilizer.
This oughta do.
>>6281407>Pivot. Offer to let him have his cake and eat it too by printing the news you think he’s being paid to suppress on smaller pamphlets. It wouldn’t help the Bee become any more well-known, but it could offer McClatchy enough revenue to help maintain it for longer, so he might still bite.+1 for using the arguments mentioned in the previous answers:
- missing the chance to make journalistic history with a major geopolitical event
- the threat of the trouble brewing in Sacramento, and the staters being the one who have the means (trained neofauna) to oppose Huntington
>>6281513+1 tot his one. If he publishes thisnstuff in the main paper, against the orders or the governor or whoever is pushing him around, he may end up suppressed more forcibly in future. That does none of us any good. An underground pamphlet, though...
>>6281407
>>6281513>>6281519+1 though maybe incorporating putting the mons out as
>>6281500 said might also help if he's scared of them
>>6281407>>PivotBut I wouldn't be against working in elements of
>>6281500 (not the sending them out part; Mary is still hurt... but we could say that we'd be willing to if she wasn't) and
>>6281513 . We might also consider writing a column in whatever paper or pamphlets end up happening; these things are a lot less scary if you learn a bit more about them (as most things are) or know how to tame them though maybe it'll have to wait until we have a ready supply of nutberries for Muyr and his people to propagate.
>>6281407>>6281500>>6281513>>6281519Supported.
Happy quest anniversary, QM!
>>6281407>Pivot. Offer to let him have his cake and eat it too by printing the news you think he’s being paid to suppress on smaller pamphlets. It wouldn’t help the Bee become any more well-known, but it could offer McClatchy enough revenue to help maintain it for longer, so he might still bite.But also supporting the stuff this anon made here
>>6281581
Alright, we’ll be pivoting.
Going to see how I can incorporate most of these write-ins into the post. I got home later than I was expecting, so it might end up spilling over into tomorrow if it takes too long to sort out unfortunately. Will do what I can to get it out today though!
“Because of that offer,” you continued. “D’pending on how you answer, it might just help your situation.”
The publisher laid down his pencil and gave you a shaky look. “My situation…”
He looked around his office, then back at your neofauna. Once his eyes came to rest on Taylor, his expression hardened.
“He’s not a threat, but… if it helps you talk t’ me, I’ll leave him out.” You slid a hand out from underneath Mary and reached for your shoulder, quietly motioning for Taylor to crawl down your arm. “I can’t keep her out, unfortunately,” you motioned to Mary with your head, “she’s got t’ stay. Can’t have her movin’ much in this condition.”
You saw McClatchy’s eyebrows briefly raise as you mentioned Mary’s leg, but the rest of his expression was lost as you got up to leave Taylor outside.
After a brief instruction for him to stay there and more reassurance that Mary would cause McClatchy no harm, you continued your conversation.
The publisher spoke first, still on edge. “You best make sure she doesn’t do squat. You’re already on thin ice, stranger.”
McClatchy’s voice betrayed his discomfort. He slid into the back of his old chair, crossing his arms and following you with his eyes, then continued. “I don’t know what situation you think I’m in. I’m a new guy strugglin’ to keep this damned newspaper afloat, despite it bein’ the best in town, and that’s that. There’s nothing more complex involved ‘n…” …he trailed off.
The man was wearing his guilt so heavily on his face that it was starting to become contagious. He looked away for a moment, seemingly contemplating something, before lowering his voice. “…just spit out this ‘offer’ already, will you?”
Good, you’d been given the green light. You sat up a little straighter and elaborated. “If you’re strugglin’ so much, why leave out big news like this? The Oriental story alone could make you big bucks for months t’ come.”
“[i]I said[/i] spit out the offer, won’t you? Don’t— don’t needle me about this!” McClatchy cringed. “If you push that topic any further, I’ll have you thrown out!”
With what army? He didn’t even have bodyguards. You wanted to call the man’s bluff, but you didn’t have the heart to. “But… mister publisher, it’s a real concern. You’re missin’ out on publishin’ a huge geopolitical event. France won a naval victory solely due t’ demons, an’ you’re avoidin’ it for some reason. The first newspaper t’ report that story will go down in history. Why pass up such an opportunity?”
McClatchy moved to say something, but you cut him off. You didn’t want to let him actually try to throw you out. “If it’s because you can’t, then I’m offering t’ change that for you. I’ve got a whole group’ve interested people that could pass out somethin’ on the story for you. Pamphlets, fliers, an anonymous column, anything like that.”
The publisher interrupted, his tone vicious. “[i]You don’t understand the stakes of this, clearly.[/i] If a single bit of Bee branding’s seen anywhere near that story, I’m [i]finished.[/i] Some stupid column is out of the question.”
“There doesn’t need t’ be any Bee brandin’ on pamphlets,” you posited. “Just use in-house generic printin’ and pass those off t’ me.”
“How… how would that even work?” McClatchy was exasperated. You could see a glint of intrigue in his eyes, even underneath the clear panic. “You’re not even from Sacramento. You’re just some wannabe cowboy runnin’ around wherever he pleases, without any permanent address. How’m I supposed t’ track you down when I need you? Or trust that you’ve somehow got a captive audience?”
“Your printers seemed pretty fond’ve me,” you joked. It took you a moment to remember that printers were also the names for the machines his journalists used… “Er, your employees.”
McClatchy didn’t laugh. “I can’t sell these pamphlets to my employees, Buchanan. It’ll make it too easy t’ trace this back to me.”
“You won’t have to! Jus’… just trust me. I know what’s happenin’ in this city, McClatchy. I know plenty’ve folks who would be interested in these pamphlets outside’a your office. Even more that might be interested in geopolitics, ‘n so buy the story for that.” It was at times like these that you really wanted to mention the Staters, but if your suspicions were right… McClatchy wouldn’t exactly think of them in a positive-enough light for that to assuage any fears of his.
“Tell you what: you can keep all the profits from this. If this scheme works an’ people buy up whatever paper you print these stories on, I’ll bring all the revenue t’ you. If my hunch is right, an’ people line up ‘cross the street for these, there’ll be no question about the Bee’s future. Even if people don’t know its name, the paper will have a long life left ahead of it,” you bargained. “If they don’t, you’ll have lost nothin’. You might even gain a few extra dollars from what little sales we did get.”
The next point required a breather before you spoke it. “Either way, you’d be doin’ the Bee a disservice not t’ print these stories just because someone told you not to. I don’t care who it was, or what he said. You’re letting hist’ry slip through your fingertips, ‘n I just want t’ make sure you don’t lose out.”
A prolonged silence followed. You ended up being the one to break it. “If nothin’ else, mister McClatchy, I don’t think people ought t’ be known as demons just for befriendin’ critters you consider t’ fit the bill.”
You gave Mary a scratch behind her ears, which she loudly approved of. McClatchy flinched, but you continued without skipping a beat. “This here lamb’a mine’s done nothing but good for the people’ve this city, but nobody who reads your paper would get t’ know anything about that. Nobody who reads what you’re puttin’ out right now would know that these creatures are happy t’ help us humans out, even if we don’t give them a chance. Can you imagine the good you could do if you just helped one or two more people learn t’ be less afraid of them with your work? If you let an American Frenchman know of his old home’s victories, while his former brothers are stuck in a foreign war?”
The publisher’s stare grew weary. He was tired of pushing back against you, and you could tell…
“…all the profits?” McClatchy swiveled to the side and stared at his dusty old wall clock. “Everythin’. Every little cent you make off this endeavor.”
You nodded.
“Would you be payin’ for all the ink I’d need? All the paper I’d be printin’?” As McClatchy’s body remained facing the clock, his eyes slowly turned to face you. “And you’d spend as much time advertisin’ this stock as any given newsboy half your age would? Without pay?”
That was becoming a harder proposition, but you gave him a cautious nod. “Someone tied t’ me, for certain.”
McClatchy’s eyes drifted back to Mary— or, really, what little he could see of her head. She wasn’t tall enough to rest her sleeping head on his desk. He watched her for some time… then, returned his eyes to yours.
“You better be at this office tomorrow, an’ the day after, tellin’ me exactly who can be trusted with this tripe and who will be doin’ your paperboy work for you that day. You better pay me if this doesn’t work out, ‘n pay me well. You better not loose those monsters on me, or I’ll make you regret ever setting foot ‘n here,” the publisher began demanding. He almost looked twice his age when he furrowed his brow like this. You tried to keep your composure, even as he eventually got close enough for you to smell his coffee-laced breath. “And I don’t want to ever see you in my office again if I’m left with any copies in here once this one-time deal is done. Got it?”
One-time deal…
>Got it. You just want these stories published. You can leave any future stories of neofauna exploits on the table for now— it’s not worth trying to convince McClatchy to run an entire mini-brand on the side with all this existing stress on him.
>Wait, no. One-time deal? You never agreed to that. You want to try and set up some kind of routine publishing schedule for this. You’re convinced bigger events will keep on happening, and if McClatchy is being forced not to mention them then you can’t afford to have those miss out on the news too. Try and make sure that he’s willing to publish future stories, too.
>Write-in.
>>6281800>Got it. You just want these stories published. You can leave any future stories of neofauna exploits on the table for now— it’s not worth trying to convince McClatchy to run an entire mini-brand on the side with all this existing stress on him. Who knwos how long we'll even be in Sacramento?
>>6281800>Got it. You just want these stories published. You can leave any future stories of neofauna exploits on the table for now— it’s not worth trying to convince McClatchy to run an entire mini-brand on the side with all this existing stress on him.If he doesn't print it, then someone else will. Maybe some other guys from downstairs who are unsatisfied with the bee's coverage and muzzling and make their own thing, publishing Neofauna news. It's actually not a bad name for a paper. Neofauna News.
>>6281800>Got it.Better to speak to Muyr about this before we get too entrenched anyway; he's the one with the means and motive to make this a regular thing (while Walter is moving more out of idealism and a desire to protect/teach about the Neofauna).
If it's successful enough McClatchy will move on his own to perpetuate it or build up the connections we introduce him to. The Streisand Effect should make the endeavor a bit more successful than we'd think too.
>>6281800>Got it.>Write-inWe agree to this being a one-time deal, but we also mention that we're confident people will be more interested in this kind of news once they get a taste of it. And at that point it won't be hard to find a competitor who's willing to write the news if McClatchy wants to stop.
Trying not to make it sound too much like a threat, more like a business opportunity.
>>6281796>>6281798>>6281799>>6281800>Wait, no. One-time deal? You never agreed to that. You want to try and set up some kind of routine publishing schedule for this. You’re convinced bigger events will keep on happening, and if McClatchy is being forced not to mention them then you can’t afford to have those miss out on the news too. Try and make sure that he’s willing to publish future stories, too.He's not as confident as he'd like to appear. Looking at everything we know and see here, I think we could easily pressure for more. Mention going to the competition (surely this city has another newspaper) if he doesn't comply.
Remember: he has no bodyguards, and his employees are pretty friendly to the cause. What ground does this guy have to stand on? If push comes to shove, I'd say we clutch this McClatchy by his collar and shake some sense into him.
Sacramento needs the news not only now, but also tomorrow and the day after.
And he's paying for the ink.
>>6281800I'm still keeping my vote and my write-in in
>>6281996>Got it.But I want to +1 the
>>6282001>And he's paying for the ink.
>>6282001I (
>>6281840) also +1 him paying for the ink. if he doesn't like it, we'll take it elsewhere and he'll lose out. Might even poach his staff.
I’ve come home much later than anticipated, so I don’t have time to write unfortunately. I’ll leave the vote open another day.
Tomorrow should be freer, so expect an entry then!
Okay, we’ll be agreeing to McClatchy’s terms on the condition that he pays for the ink. Writing!
“Got it,” you replied. “On one condition.”
McClatchy raised a thin brow. “One condition?”
You nodded back. “Ah can’t pay for the ink. I’ve got other expenses t’ prioritize, see, ‘n I can’t print the stuff anyways. As long as you do the ink, I’ll take it. Do we have a deal?”
Some time passed. For a moment, you thought you’d landed yourself in hot water. A minute afterwards, however, your worries were quelled.
McClatchy extended a hand to you, which you firmly shook. “Yes, Mr. Buchanan. I think we do.”
<><><><><>
You, Mary, and Taylor stumbled out of the Sacramento Bee’s offices. Your head was spinning, and Mary seemed no less dizzy herself. The three of you had been cheered upon your descent down the office stairs. Some of the workers had made jokes at your expense, others had thanked you for helping keep them employed. Most were just happy to have a distraction from their day-to-day work.
By the time you’d made it out of the offices, through all the crowding and idle chit-chat about what the future held for the paper, the sun had already passed its apex in the sky. It wasn’t anywhere near evening, so you knew the Staters meeting was some time away, but it was still later than you had expected.
Aster gave you a loud neigh, trotting over to you and rubbing his muzzle against your cheek. It was quite the forceful gesture, to the point where you nearly stumbled backwards into the office’s walls, but it was much appreciated. You thanked the stallion and tried to return the favor with a stroke of his neck, but Aster somehow took offense to the attempt and backed off before you could. Florian was much more straightforward in his greeting, of course, squeaking happily and giving you a bright smile that you mirrored back at him.
While Taylor scuttled over to mingle with Aster and Florian, you realized that you had little idea of what to do with Mary. She was injured, so you still had to carry her around, but… what would you even do with an injured neofauna? Were they really just like normal animals? Could they be healed the same way?
As Mary sat upon your lap and watched the rest of your party run around… you couldn’t help but wonder whether she felt wistful of such experiences. You knew her leg would heal— you couldn’t bring yourself to believe in anything else— but the fact that she’d been attacked at all haunted you.
The rest of your neofauna eventually tuckered themselves out and returned to you. Florian and Taylor hopped onto the bench you’d been sitting on, while Aster expressed frustration at being unable to sit upon it, and looked to you with some sort of expectation.
You did tend to spend this kind of free time training them, and you hadn’t done anything of the sort yet today… but you were still apprehensive about it, given Mary’s condition, and felt your time might be better spent on other things.
What were you going to do, then, between the nightly Stater meeting and now?
>Go find Mr. Muyr. It wouldn’t hurt to know about the Stater meeting early in advance, especially since you have some new information to share with him, and it might be worth checking up on his otter to make sure nothing goes wrong if Muyr decides to bring it with him to tonight’s meeting.
>Try to find some kind of veterinarian practice and ask for as much information on broken animal bones as they have. It’s a long shot, and you almost certainly won’t be able to admit Mary directly given the new anti-Neofaunic laws in the city, but you don’t know that much about this type of injury and want to ensure Mary’s safety.
>Attempt to locate the Sacramento Daily Record-Union’s offices and make sure they aren’t suppressing the same stories as the Bee. The sheer size of Sacramento might make this difficult, but you feel you have little choice if the flow of information is being suppressed this badly.
>Train your team on the outskirts of Sacramento. You want to take it easy after what you had to deal with at the Bee’s headquarters, and your team seems rather eager…
>Write-in.
>>6282475>Try to find some kind of veterinarian practice and ask for as much information on broken animal bones as they have. It’s a long shot, and you almost certainly won’t be able to admit Mary directly given the new anti-Neofaunic laws in the city, but you don’t know that much about this type of injury and want to ensure Mary’s safety.I would like to train, but if Mary's not in good shape, we lose a big chunk of our fighting power anyway.
>>6282474>>6282475>Write-in.Ask Muyr if he knows of a veterinarian with sympathies to the Stater's cause, and if that's not available a doctor or anyone with more medical experience than us.
An expedited healing process for Mary would work great for us considering the trouble that is definitely a-brewing in Sacramento. If we have time left after the visit, we can train our party on the city's outskirts (sans Mary for obvious reasons).
In either case, I think our boy Aster needs some special attention. Let's give him what he wants.
>>6282497Warning you ahead of time, I’m just going to count this as a very slightly modified vote for trying to find a vet. There won’t be enough time to train afterwards, hence the options being offered as separate
>>6282497>>6282515+1 to asking Muyr to help find a sympathetic vet, even with the caveat.
>>6282497+1
We can also suggest that Muyr and HIS people follow up with other news outlets about suppressing news concerning Neofauna. The Bee will provide a proof of concept, even if McClatchy insists on only doing a single run (and it would be a middle finger to the deal we just made with him if we go now).
If Muyr used to be mayor he's probably still got enough pull and insider knowledge to handle it once the issue has been pointed out to him. And most military officers are going to be mindful of soft power, anyway.
As far as Aster... brushing out horses is a good way to bond with them, no?
>>6282515Duly noted. I only tacked it on because Aster gave us the stanky eyes. If we can't train, surely we can find our boy an apple or something else that makes him happy.
Alright, since the vote’s been pretty unanimous I’m going to go with
>>6282497 and start writing.
…prioritize Mary’s health, of course. You couldn’t wait for your closest partner to simply heal on her own.
“Behhh?” Your injured friend tilted her head, unsure of why you’d been staring at her so long. You could’ve sworn you saw a glimmer of intrigue in her eye, but didn’t let yourself dwell on possibilities and hypotheticals.
“I think it’s time we let someone have a look at you, Mary,” you murmured. “Muyr’s got to have someone. We’ll start with him, alright?”
She seemed to recognize the name, as her droopy ears rose once she’d heard it. “Mehhh.”
You got to your feet slowly, making sure Mary stayed comfortable in your arms. You let her non-injured legs hang a little, finding it hard to keep all four properly sat atop your arms, and let out a sharp whistle.
“C’mon, the rest’ve you. We’ve only got so much time before t’night...”
<><><><><>
The five of you spent a fair amount of time stumbling around the city, trying to get an inkling as to where Muyr could be.
You knew next meeting was by the Sacramento River, but you didn’t think Muyr would be anywhere near water with his otter yet. Despite that, it’d been the first place you’d checked— to no avail. Next, you’d dropped into one of the less-ruined saloons of the city… out of luck, once again.
Finally, after a sweltering time in the Sacramento sun… you’d found Muyr on the outskirts of the city, trying and failing to command his otter to do anything.
“Come on, now! Do what I’ve taught you!” The man roared, his arms crossed and his brow furrowed. “I’ve seen you do it before, without my prompting!”
As you approached the temperamental couple, Muyr’s burgundy blazer was left drenched in pressurized water. The man himself found himself in the wet grass beneath him, grimacing at the creature that’d soaked him so. “You…”
“…mister Muyr?” You waved. “Sorry— are you busy?”
The former mayor seemed surprised to see you. He tried, in vain, to wipe the water off his blazer and brow. “Buchanan! What a pleasant surprise!”
Muyr got on his feet and stuck out a hand, which you shook. “Have you come to help me with this… situation?”
Ah, what bad timing. You frowned a bit. “I’m… not sure, Mr. Muyr. I think I’ve got somethin’ more urgent.”
You held up Mary as best you could without harming her. “She’s still hurt, an’ ah can’t abide by that. D’you know’ve any veterinarians around the city that would…?”
Muyr’s expression fell. “Ah, right…” He glanced at his otter, who was keeping a safe distance from him and offering nothing but angry expressions. “Buchanan, I’m sorry.”
“What d’you mean, sorry?” Surely there was someone.
“I don’t know’ve any veterinarians period. None with the Staters, that’s fer sure.” Muyr dodged eye contact, fixating again on his otter. “If there’re any ‘round the city, I’m not sure they’d do farm animals neither. Their specialties’d be cats, dogs— pets you keep at home, ‘nstead’ve with you on yer adventures.” The former mayor of the city went on, the sincerity in his tone only worrying you further. “I’m sure someone’s opened up business since I got kicked out’ve the capitol. But I’ve never had need t’ check, ‘n I didn’t think t’ do it now.”
“Well, any vet ‘round here? In’n hour ‘r two’s walk?” You clung to hope. Surely, somewhere nearby…
“Again, I wouldn’t know. You’d be better off askin’ some’ve the Stater’s farmers than y’ would me.”
Muyr brought a hand to his chin. “Although… I do know one regular doctor. He’s strictly humans-only, but…?”
“If he’s with the Staters, he’s good enough for me,” you interrupted. “Even a diagnosis’ll do.”
“…I’ll see what I can do at the meeting, Buchanan. You’ll have t’ wait ‘til after then if you want something done, unfortunately.”
Your frown deepened… but this was still better than nothing. Even if it was just a human doctor, it was still [i]a[/i] doctor. Someone, presumably aligned with your interests, who could take a look at Mary and identify what was [i]exactly[/i] wrong. Instead of some vague idea of a broken leg or a deep cut, there’d be some kind of certainty to… all this.
“Thank you, Mr. Muyr! Ah… ah s’ppose it’d be proper t’ leave the celebration fer later,” you chuckled, “but it won’t do skimpin’ out on some now. Thank you, ‘gain.”
Muyr just gave you a tempered grin back. “It’s the least I can do for you, Buchanan. I wish I could help, but I’m not sure most’ve the Staters would even know what a veterinarian was if they were asked.”
Right. It was a bit disheartening to remember, but that branch of healthcare was still somewhat unknown in places like this. Back in New York, there were already a few hybrid practices bringing in good money. You’d even heard of an entire college dedicated to the field! But here… you had yet to see a single clinic dedicated to both animals and humans, let alone solely to animals.
“Could you do one thing more?” You asked.
“Hm?” Muyr was already shifting his attention to his otter, which began emitting soft growls as Muyr’s hand approached its head.
“Don’t try t’ pet your neofauna,” you grinned. “Jus’ leave it alone for a little. I think it’s stressed.”
Muyr froze his hand mere inches away from his beast’s muzzle. “…you know, Buchanan, you really ought t’ teach me more about these critters. I don’t seem t’ understand them ‘s well as I thought I did.”
The two of you shared an uncomfortable laugh. The otter was soon left to its own devices, and you yours. Muyr gave you a quiet goodbye as you left the fields, and the rest of your team trailed behind you.
Mary’s health would have to wait. At least, the health of her leg. Dinner was calling your name, and given the state of Mary’s stomach… you figured she’d be appreciative of some, too.
<><><><><>
Starlight danced upon the Sacramento River’s various small waves.
Muyr had arranged a campfire some ways away from the river itself, as well as a small wooden stage before it and several rows of seats after it. With each passing meeting, it got harder and harder to ignore how strictly he seemed to be recreating the layout of the Floating Dollar. You wondered if that would somehow do you in later…
…but were snapped out of it by the various people beginning to gather around the place. Steele, Bart, Muyr, Andrew— all four were present, along with some other no-names you felt you might want to meet sometime. They seemed to be among Andrew’s first batch of trainees… or, would have, had there been much success on that front.
Andrew looked less than pleased. You could see faint bags under his eyes, and Buckwheat was getting more scratches than was usual. He seemed… strained.
Steele, on the other hand, was delighted. You couldn’t fathom for what reasons, but he seemed positively jumping for joy. There was a pencil in his ear, a special curl to his mustache, and some kind of spring in his step.
But Muyr had to be your main focus. Or— Bart? Someone… you needed to let someone know about the deal you’d made with the Bee. That was first and foremost.
There was still enough time to talk to someone before the meeting began… but only two people, really. You knew Muyr came first, but who came second?
[Write-in what you’re going to be mentioning to your choice.]
>Andrew,
>Steele,
>Bart,
>or someone else? [Write-in who!]
>>6283098>>Bart,Might as well ask if he knows any veterinarians or would know anyone who might know one sympathetic to the cause too.
Though if we're relying on Neofauna to fight Muyr might've started looking into it (or had his people do so) after our conversation just for logistical reasons.
>>6283094>>6283096>>6283098>or someone else?Look for a farmer. They ought to know how to get around a sheep at least, or know someone who does specialize in caring for something akin to our little cloud of joy.
>>6283098>WRITE IN: Look for a farmer.
>>6283260The write-in wins out by one vote! We’ll be searching for a farmer to try and help with Mary.
>>6283475In an era before vets, it really is the best play.
…you’d find out who later, if you learned his name. All you knew was that you were going to try and find another farmer— specifically, one that knew more about sheep injuries than you did.
For now, Muyr was your main focus. You spotted him not far from the wooden stage, and flagged him down in no time.
“Muyr, I’ve got t’ tell ya somethin’.” You started out frank and straight-to-the-point. “Ah’ve found us a way t’ get that French story out.”
The former mayor just gave you a blank stare. “The… what?”
You blinked. Did… had Bart not told Muyr about it?
After Muyr confirmed as much, you explained to him the circumstances and exactly why that kind of news wasn’t being printed. You clarified what had happened, too, but never managed to get to the part where you explained your deal.
“Their strongest ship…” Muyr looked at you as if you’d told him the sky was falling. He looked almost… desolate. Like he was recalling the faces of the dead. “And, according t’ the chinaman, it saved the French from drownin’?”
“Yes, sir.” You straightened up a little and began to grin. “An’ now the people’ve Sacramento can hear all about it! They can have a little hope, an’ if we’re lucky… maybe we’ll get a few new members out’ve it.”
“Buchanan… you really think people will focus on the Frenchmen in that story?” Muyr’s eyes were still wide. “You trust that whatever person you’ve gotten to report this won’t… spin the story?”
You nodded. “I don’t think he will. The Sacramento Bee’s only goin’ t’ plummet further if they’re dishonest ‘bout this, ‘n I don’t see why they would be. It’s such a big story, they couldn’t turn it down!”
Muyr’s brow furrowed. He didn’t seem nearly as optimistic. “But you mentioned you’d paired it with the story of the raid on the saloon. I’d think, if ah were a Sacramentonian, that I’d see a story about a giant monster ‘n then a saloon raid, also t’ do with neofauna… an’ I’d connect the dots in a way that isn’t all right.”
“Well, that wouldn’t change much, would it? Nobody ‘round here’s too partial t’ the things as-is, but if they get t’ read about how these creatures have helped our allies abroad… wouldn’t you start thinkin’ about how they could help you here, too?”
That got Muyr to admit defeat. “Well, if ah said otherwise I’d be a hypocrite. Good on you, Walter, for getting that story in people’s hands. Now… how’ll you go about doin’ that? Why do I need t’ know?”
-----
You were very grateful that the next person you spoke to had nothing to do with this.
After Muyr’s… [i]colorful[/i] reaction to being told about how you’d taken on even more (arguably unnecessary!) work that required even more people, total obliviousness to behind-the-scenes work was a refreshing change of pace.
“‘Scuse me, can you…” You reached a hand out for a stranger, aiming for his shoulder and landing on thin air. “Hold on, please.”
That got the man’s attention. The stranger swiveled around, his beard coming with him, and gave you a curious look. “Eh? D’you need me for somethin’?”
“If you’ve got the time,” you offered. Of course, you needed him regardless— you just wanted to be polite.
“I’ve got plenty, sonny! What’re you in need of?” Thankfully, the stranger didn’t seem to mind. He grinned widely enough for his chest-length beard to retreat up to his neck.
“A little help, if you can spare, for miss Mary over here.” You hoisted her up once more, leading to a rebellious bahh and some squirming. “She’s— she’s not jus’ a standard sheep,” you avoided her attempt to nip you on the cheek, “but I believe she’s got standard legs. I’m sure one’ve them’s broken, an’ I don’t know how.”
“Well, then!” The man raised his sun hat and leaned in to take a look at Mary, which resulted in more bahhing and some irritated looks. “She’s certainly still kickin’— if she’s doin’ it like this, y’ might want tah…”
The man moved one of your arms away from Mary, making you notice that you’d been pressing on her near her bandages. That… explained a lot.
“…there, she shouldn’t be so prickly now!” He smiled. “Listen— ah’m no expert ‘n these creatures. Don’ know anyone who is, neither. Not ‘round here. The sheep-herders are further up north, where the temperature’s nicer ‘n there’s more grass. But ah don’t think you need’n expert t’ tell you when a wound’s been infected, or the diff’rence ‘tween that ‘n a broken leg. Her squirmin’ only confirms it.”
You rushed to ask another question, giving side glances to the ever-thickening crowd of Staters beginning to file into the meeting around you. “An infection— is there some way t’ make it heal faster? Cure it altogether? Anythin’?’
The man just laughed. “I’m no expert, as ah told you. From what I know, you’ve just got t’ wait these things out. Aside from leavin’ the infected place alone ‘n keepin’ her healthy… that’s it! Nothin’ more you can do.”
For just a second, you wished more of your sheep back home had gotten into situations like this. Infected wounds, swollen joints, something like this. You felt lucky that they hadn’t, of course— your flocks had always been remarkably free of cuts or wounds— but just this once… it would’ve done you some good to have had worse luck.
You cursed under your breath and thanked the man. “Why, I was just doin’ my part t’ help these here Staters. Don’t thank me fer providin’ a bit of help. Take care’ve your little lady, first ‘n foremost. She’s a lucky one— t’ have a shepard like you is every sheep’s dream.”
As Mary lay in your arms, now significantly calmer than before… you felt assured that the man was right, and resolved to keep making sure of that.
-----
Muyr took to the stage with a dour expression on his face.
You couldn’t help but feel some of it was your fault. Doubly so when he opened the meeting with exactly the story you’d imparted onto him.
Bart, who’d been sitting behind you, audibly gasped as Muyr did so. Unlike most of the audience, who were caught in a mix of terror and awe, Bart was bordering on absolute panic. You could practically hear him sweating, looking around, pulling out his hair with worry. He only began to calm down once Muyr went on to explain how it would be spread around, and who would be in charge.
“If any of you are ‘n need of some work, lookin’ to volunteer but unwillin’ to train, come talk to Walter Buchanan once this meeting’s over! You’ll be wakin’ up early, getting no pay, and hawkin’ plenty of wares, but you’ll be doing important work and I’ll see to it that you get plenty of compensation once you’ve contributed,” he declared. “So long as the compensation ain’t entirely monetary, there shouldn’t be any problems…”
From there, a fair amount of the meeting was standard fare. Muyr expressed his thanks to the audience for attending, bringing more weapons, and remembering about the training program before he reminded them. There was discussion of financials, manpower— who would be doing what in the coming weeks, especially now that your pamphlet endeavor was being thrown into the mix. Andrew’s training program was open to anyone who had a neofauna in advance, and wouldn’t involve more than combat and homesteading. Following that, Muyr had to clarify what made for a good weapon…
By the end of it all, you were somewhat tuning out of what Muyr had to say. You knew it was important, but all you could think about was how long he was taking to say it. As the meeting ended, you found Mary demanding more of your attention than Muyr, and were thankful when everyone finally got up to leave.
Even though Steele accompanied you back to the hotel, and surely had much to say on the way there, by the time you’d arrive and gotten into bed… you remembered none of it.
All you knew was that the next meeting was at the same pond Muyr had found his otter at… which didn’t inspire confidence in its safety.
<><><><><>
>Sunday, August 24th
You’d woken up at dawn.
No less than an hour later, you were back at the hotel for breakfast. Before then, you’d been frantically arranging things with McClatchy— he’d be hawking pamphlets here, she’d be selling them there. You apologized, repeatedly, for not setting up schedules earlier— once you’d returned to the hotel, it was the very first thing you’d done. Plotted out the schedule for the day following, who’d be doing what, everything.
Then, afterwards, at breakfast, you’d had to listen to a very strange cocktail of chatter. Stranger, still, was that you three were now sharing a table with Andrew’s chick.
The entire morning, so far, had felt like some kind of fever dream. As you sat, now, with a fork hovering above a very fluffy waffle coated in blueberry syrup and a dash of cream… you couldn’t help but stare at the strange creature by Andrew’s side.
You were being hypocritical, of course. Mary sat beside you, as always, now with a fancy cushion— courtesy of a rather heartbroken Steele— keeping her leg comfortable. It wasn’t weird to see neofauna at the table.
But she hadn’t exploded in a pillar of flame and come out stronger for it. She hadn’t, supposedly, tripled her size and doubled her amount of limbs. She had yet to, as far as you knew, sit properly upright in a human chair. Let alone use her front legs as makeshift forks.
“How did you…?”
“Threats.” Andrew interrupted. “Same way I got them t’ let me keep eatin’ here after they kicked me out.”
“That’s—“
“I don’t care, Walter. They can’t do nothing ‘bout it, and we’re already criminals under the law according t’ Huntington and his gang’ve merry mercenaries. If they want the chick’n I out’ve here, they’ll have t’ try and force us.”
Andrew sounded exhausted. The bags under his eyes from yesterday had yet to disappear, too. He’d never looked your way while he’d spoken, either— just kept eating and keeping his head down.
“An’ Indiana—?”
“Why, he’d make a mess!” Steele proclaimed. “No, I won’t let him follow after Andrew’s slovenly mutant. There is no need for him to start using his claws as skewers. He seems perfectly happy as he is now.”
As Andrew and Steele began to debate the validity of the insult ‘mutant,’ your mind drifted someplace else. You had plans for today, didn’t you?
What was on the agenda for after breakfast? [[b]Choose two options![/b]]
>Searching for the hundredth-fauna creatures once more. At this point, although you knew the health risks, you felt you had to seek them out as a matter of principle. The creatures were fascinating. If you just got an extended glimpse of them, instead of just flashes of yellow, maybe you could…
>Checking in on the Record-Union. You weren’t done with this pamphleteering just yet, and you needed to make sure you had a backup plan for after the Bee stopped selling your stuff.
>Some laid-back training on the outskirts. You still needed to make sure Aster would listen to you when it counted, and you wanted to figure out some way to get Florian to consistently reproduce that aroma…
>Proper relaxation around the capitol park. For regenerative purposes, of course. You didn’t need an inconspicuous excuse to keep an eye on state militia going in and out of the building, for no reason whatsoever, at all.
Yeah. Yeah, those would do. It was Sunday. You didn’t need to stress yourself too badly today. Not today.
“Buchanan!” Steele brought you back to reality. “You’ve been rather quiet today. Have you been wanting to say anything to either of us?“
>”T’ you, yes.” Ask Steele about why he was so happy yesterday, and what he’s been doing this whole time. You’ve admittedly lost track of his agenda, and find that a worrying precedent to set if he’s to travel with you across this country.
>”Actually, I’ve been meanin’ to ask Andrew…” Ask about his current state of being, and perhaps also his chick. Had he even named it yet?
>Write-in something else for the conversation.
(To clarify, since I’m realizing now that the way the votes are structured is a bit strange:
Choose two of four options from the top, include them in your post.
Choose one of three options from the bottom, include them in your post.
All three votes should be in the same post, and I’ll tally everything up to determine the winner as I usually do with multiple-choice options like these)
>>6283546>Some laid-back training on the outskirts. You still needed to make sure Aster would listen to you when it counted, and you wanted to figure out some way to get Florian to consistently reproduce that aroma…Just until we get obedience and fundamentals down.
>”T’ you, yes.” Ask Steele about why he was so happy yesterday, and what he’s been doing this whole time. You’ve admittedly lost track of his agenda, and find that a worrying precedent to set if he’s to travel with you across this country.
>>6283546>>Some laid-back training on the outskirts. >>Proper relaxation around the capitol parkSeems the Staters are of the opinion that we should relax a bit more... and we might get lucky and see that 100th fauna. I'd rather not go looking for it until Mary is healed (and an infection... do we wanna clean it out? Clean water probably isn't the most easily accessible thing just yet given we might not think to boil it in this era, and cleaning it with booze would hurt her like fuck).
>SteeleLet's check in with him. If Andrew's got a problem with us or wants to duel he'll tell it to our face.
>>6283576>Clean water probably isn't the most easily accessible thing just yet given we might not think to boil it in this eraPeople have been heating water to render it cleanly for treating wounds since at least 4100 years ago in Sumeria, and the Ancient Greeks did so as well by at least as early at 2400 years ago, as later attested to by Galen, Hippocrates, and Celsus. When one of George Washington's slaves was bitten by a rabid dog, he was instructed to "wash the bitten part with 20 or 30 kettles full of water poured from the spout of the kettle or a mug-and afterward burn the wound as deep as the bite has penetrated, with the end of a case knife or any other iron made nearly hot."
Nobody really knew WHY boiling water made it safer to drink and wash wounds, but they DID know it to be so. Kind of like how ib al-Khatib worked out from observation that plague could be spread by some kind of invisible creatures, possibly very small ones, but sort of rationalize them as demonic spirits because he couldn't see or fully conceptualize bacteria or viruses. He just knew that dirty areas and clothes made you sick, and transported sickness around somehow, and that it grew like an organism.
Now what I'm wondering is what the fuck is Arceus thinking watching all this play out? Because you know he's out there observing everything closely since spawning all the mons in across the planet. And who will be the first Legendary to awaken and start acting?
>>6283546>Searching for the hundredth-fauna creatures once more. At this point, although you knew the health risks, you felt you had to seek them out as a matter of principle. The creatures were fascinating. If you just got an extended glimpse of them, instead of just flashes of yellow, maybe you could…and
>Some laid-back training on the outskirts. You still needed to make sure Aster would listen to you when it counted, and you wanted to figure out some way to get Florian to consistently reproduce that aroma…and
>”T’ you, yes.” Ask Steele about why he was so happy yesterday, and what he’s been doing this whole time. You’ve admittedly lost track of his agenda, and find that a worrying precedent to set if he’s to travel with you across this country.Let's see what is happening to our buddy Steele, and give Aster some well-deserved attention. Surely he'll be of good use helping us find the 100th demon too. Besides, can we leave Mary at a safe spot for a bit? I think it wouldn't be handy or beneficial to her health to carry the poor gal around with us all the time.
>CAPTCHA: BASEDNXZoinks indeed.
>>6283741mfw it autodetected s o y for some reason even though the captcha wrote it with a 0 I hate this fucking site so much
>>6283582Thank you kindly, Anon; wasn't quite up to researching it myself so made some rather silly assumptions.
>>6283546>Some laid-back training on the outskirts. You still needed to make sure Aster would listen to you when it counted, and you wanted to figure out some way to get Florian to consistently reproduce that aroma…>Searching for the hundredth-fauna creatures once more. At this point, although you knew the health risks, you felt you had to seek them out as a matter of principle. The creatures were fascinating. If you just got an extended glimpse of them, instead of just flashes of yellow, maybe you could…Seeing us take care of an injured Mary might make them more likely to trust us.
>”T’ you, yes.” Ask Steele about why he was so happy yesterday, and what he’s been doing this whole time. You’ve admittedly lost track of his agenda, and find that a worrying precedent to set if he’s to travel with you across this country.
>>6283546>Searching for the hundredth-fauna creatures once more. At this point, although you knew the health risks, you felt you had to seek them out as a matter of principle. The creatures were fascinating. If you just got an extended glimpse of them, instead of just flashes of yellow, maybe you could…It'd be really fucking funny if a talking Mon joined our entourage.
>Some laid-back training on the outskirts. You still needed to make sure Aster would listen to you when it counted, and you wanted to figure out some way to get Florian to consistently reproduce that aroma…Aster is likely chomping at the bit to get back to training.
>”T’ you, yes.” Ask Steele about why he was so happy yesterday, and what he’s been doing this whole time. You’ve admittedly lost track of his agenda, and find that a worrying precedent to set if he’s to travel with you across this country.We haven't checked on him in a while, though we should check in on Andrew pretty soon.
I am having persistent issues with captchas not showing up; I’m unsure if this will get through. As it is, it’s very late here regardless and I have someplace to be early tomorrow.
By tomorrow evening, I should be back home and all these problems should be gone. I’ll also have a fucking keyboard to use again so my posts might not end up so short lol. Formatting should work again, too, so no more useless tags.
I’ll let the vote run until tomorrow evening as compensation for my tardiness, though it seems pretty unified as-is. I’ll see you all tomorrow evening, and I’m sorry I couldn’t make it tonight.
Sorry for the unexpected delay!
We'll be searching for the hundredth neofauna, training our team, and asking Steele why he's so happy.
Writing...
>>6283622I wonder how disruptive to religion the first appearance of a Legendary will be...
>>6284203Congrats on the new keyboard!
Cutlery clashed with ceramic all around you, threatening to derail your train of thought. Steele needed to repeat his inquiry for you to answer.
"T'you, yes." You cleared your throat and gave Steele your attention, even while Andrew's chick kept catching the corner of your eye. "Ah, uh, noticed you were quite happy yesterday evenin'. At the meeting."
"And today, too!" Steele affirmed, still beaming. "How could I not be? I finally have contact with my family! You have no idea, Buchanan, how I've missed them..."
"You've got family?" Andrew gawked, equal parts surprised and offended.
It was a little hard not to be surprised yourself. Steele had dodged the question whenever you'd brought it up. For a while, you were half-convinced that the Bakers had actually been some kind of distant relatives and he just didn't want to admit it. But here he was, claiming otherwise...?
"Yes, yes, of course I have. You think a man of my age has yet to settle down? Why, I can assure you, nothing could be further from the truth." Steele removed his bib, choosing instead to fluff up his new ascot, his pure joy unwavering. "I have not only a wife, but a son! Both remain in Indiana.
I haven't heard word only from them, however! My younger brother, my beloved Jamie, has finally decided to write to me!" He continued.
Something wasn't adding up. If he'd been so shy about mentioning his family before, what had changed for them to be a point of pride now?
"So all the dodgin' around specifics was just t' mess with us?" Andrew raised a brow while downing a scrambled egg.
"No! Well-- not exactly, no! You see, I just wanted to make sure..." His attention drifted to Andrew's companion, who was also eyeing him suspiciously. "...I simply wanted to keep my priorities in order, of course! They weren't very relevant to most of what we've done here."
After that comment left Andrew silent, you stepped in to question things. "What d'you mean, 'not very rel'vant?'"
You withheld your irritation for a moment. Maybe he'd just worded things poorly.
"Business, business! You'll learn when you're my age, surely, that business absolutely comes first. And we have done almost nothing but business since we arrived. The last few days have been a brief vacation, mostly fishing and the odd stage play-- but, now that you are so preoccupied with your underground work and your creature studies, I believe I can relax a little more." Steele said all of this with a nearly sing-songy tone, only pausing to eat another small piece of French toast from time to time.
Both you and Andrew seemed to share a mutual disgust at the implication. You were the first to speak. "...Steele, what's more important than the safety've your family?"
He answered again without hesitation. "Haven't I just told you? Business! Political affairs, important transactions, emergencies. Quite a few things take priority over the missus. She can handle herself well enough, and the boy is grown. I have no need to coddle them like most parents seem intent to. Besides, she has access to my funds and he has access to her. I hardly think they'll end up in much trouble."
Except during extraordinary circumstances, of course, like an invasion of fire-breathing wildlife or steel-clad birds.
Both you and Andrew tried not to say anything, so Steele ended up breaking through the silence that'd followed his explanation.
"Jamie has been doing well, as has the missus," he lowered his voice. "I have no doubts that they are safe, in good health, and enjoying themselves."
It took you a moment to realize that Steele was now looking your way. He continued. "I can only hope that your family has met a similar fate?"
Your skin crawled. The way he worded it put the thought of their deaths in your head, and you had to force such pessimism out before you could say anything back. "...not too dissim'lar, yeah."
Steele gave you a smile back. "Good, good! I'd expect nothing else from the Buchanan family."
Soon after, he ferried Indiana onto his shoulder and rose from his seat. "Well, that was a hearty breakfast! The best I've had in a few days, if I do say so myself."
He gave your empty plate a look, then Andrew's. "I do have somewhere to be, so I suppose this is where I say farewell--"
You cut him off. "Hold on, Steele. Where're you goin'?"
"Ah, nowhere too strenuous. There was simply a show, to be set in Snowflake Park, that I wanted to see..."
Had he really just been spending the past few days entertaining himself around the city? Surely that wasn't it-- Indiana was responding to his nickname, now, so maybe he'd also done some training... but there was no use in idle speculation.
"...alright, ah'll leave you to it then." You rose from your chair and got to helping Mary off of hers. "Just... s'long as you let me know where you are a bit more often, ah don't think I'd mind."
"Duly noted! I'll leave you to your stately duties, then!" Steele was joyous once more, his brief moment of sympathy already a distant memory. "I'll see you at the meeting this evening, then, and Andrew..."
"Same place, same time." Andrew grunted. "More Stater training t' do today. I won't be leavin' Sutter's Fort."
His chick chirped in agreement, stabbing another scrambled egg with its claws.
"Good luck with such an endeavor," the statesman said while tipping his bowler hat. "If ever you may need me, simply look around Snowflake Park. I can assure you I won't stray far from there 'til eveningtime."
You almost wanted to ask him more about his family, but... Steele was already on his way out, and you had an agenda to clear.
"Good luck," you concurred.
"Thanks," Andrew nodded. "I'll need it."
<><><><><>
Your own training lasted throughout almost the entire day. Sacramento's outskirts were incredibly vast. Your side goal of running from one end of the city to the other could only be accomplished once within eight hours and one half-hour break, and your team almost never saw the same battlefield twice.
Nonetheless, the exercise was useful. You hadn't gotten much of it, what with spending most of your days walking or sitting as opposed to running around or exerting yourself like you had before, and your neofauna more than enjoyed the marathon.
All of them, that is, save for Mary. For obvious reasons, she couldn't join you. However... she had enjoyed Aster's company, which was another small victory for you. You'd left him there as a test of trust-- if he could resist the urge to come running with you and the rest of the team, and actually listen to your command, you'd consider him well-trained enough to test in battle.
As afternoon dawned, as the rest of your team was ready to fall over, as the three of you returned to your base camp to relax and have a snack... you'd found Aster sitting by Mary's side, scanning for threats, in a small patch of burnt grass. Once he'd received his promised praise and combat training, he was as over-the-moon as any stallion could be.
You could still see a stubborn streak in him. Aster seemed to delight in occasionally ignoring minor things you asked of him. But he was paying attention to the major commands, now, and seemed sincerely attached to Mary. Enough to stay by her side while she was injured without trying anything. That, to you, was enough. For now.
Once you'd all had a hearty lunch, you focused heavily on getting Aster to fight without disturbance. You still relied somewhat on treats, especially a bundle of carrots you'd bought for this exact purpose, but Aster seemed less focused on them and more on his opponents.
Just as you'd suspected when you first encountered him, Aster had a fierce love of battle-- one passionate enough to quickly reduce most of the area to charred remains after a few battles. His reliance on pure fire-power, alongside his impressive speed, meant that most wild neofauna that picked a fight were dispatched without a second thought. If most citizens had only one Aster to their name, they'd never end up in wild trouble again. Andrew's agreement on the matter, and his dedication of today to that cause, was just another thing to make today enjoyable.
>+2 to Taylor and Florian's Combat stats; +4 to Aster's! +1 to your own Command stat, too!
What made you happiest, however, came only upon your return to Sacramento itself.
<><><><><>
"So that's why..."
"But it can't be real! These pamphlets-- where'd you get them from?"
"Of course it's real! The Floatin' Dollar's not been servin' fer days now! Why would they publish one lie 'n one truth?"
You were supposed to just be passing through here. You'd been aiming to search for the hundredth neofauna nearer to the old channel, opposite where you'd been training... but the entire city seemed wrapped up in the same commotion.
"If a demon could save a Frenchman..." One man mumbled to himself, his eyes trailing Aster as you walked through town alongside him.
"Maybe the French already know to ally with 'em, an' that's why they're winnin' the war! They've got some big ol' monsters, like the one in this here paper..." An older man pointed out to a younger man, both intrigued.
"Walter, Walter!" A teen-aged boy ran to your side, exhausted. "Sorry-- mister Buchanan! We're out of pamphlets-- we've got nothin' to sell!"
You'd have been more impressed if you'd printed more than about two-hundred copies, but even those having sold was a miracle. McClatchy wouldn't budge on a buck apiece-- they weren't very cheap. "Nothin'?"
"Nothin'!! I only wish I'd'a been able ta keep some've this profit for myself," the boy grumbled.
You wished you could tell him he could keep some, but you knew McClatchy would have your head for it and couldn't risk such generosity immediately. You made a note to ask him about it later, when reporting the pamphlet run's success, and apologized to the teenager. He grumbled some more about 'fair pay', but ultimately let you go.
-----
As you crossed through the capitol to reach the other side of the city, you kept an extra close eye on Aster. Not for any real reason-- he'd been well-behaved even in busier parts of the city. But, after giving the capitol building a glance and seeing nothing there, you couldn't help but question the sudden prevalence of smoke lingering about the place.
However, thanks to the lawn being its usual immaculate self and the building being rather untouched, you didn't figure it was worth investigating further. Your utmost priority was chasing down that yellow mirage...
<><><><><>
...no matter how long it took.
That's what you had to tell yourself.
Even while the sun started setting. Even as you checked your silver-plated watch, even as you couldn't help but think of the man who gave it to you...
...you'd been here for hours, with absolutely nothing to show for it.
How were you even supposed to go about searching for these beings? You knew they had an interest in you, but evidently that interest was merely passing. They didn't seem to just show up when you wanted them to, even in the same places you'd seen them last.
Or, maybe, they were too precarious about being seen near the city? Even its outskirts? No, that couldn't be-- if they'd shown up here before, what was stopping them now?
You began to come up with multiple desperate theories. The main thing you needed to do right now was save time, and clearly your previous method of wandering around places you'd last seen them wasn't really doing that.
There was enough time for you to make one attempt to lure the creatures to you...
>Get as far away from the city as possible, within reasonable walking distance of next meeting's location, and try to interact with your neofauna someplace distinct and obvious. You had a feeling they were curious about your relationship with your party, so why not emphasize that?
>Try and think of total nonsense-- as close to the intrusions they made into your head as possible. Even if it was practically inviting in another headache, you didn't know of any other method to contact them directly.
>Search for yellow paint and attempt to mimic the creatures. You'd have enough time to paint a makeshift mask of the beings, which you felt might be good enough.
>Spend the time tending to Florian instead. Your work with him during training hadn't been as extensive as you'd hoped, and you really wanted him to be able to produce that scent on command...
>>6285133>>Spend the time tending to Florian instead.
>>6285133>Get as far away from the city as possible, within reasonable walking distance of next meeting's location, and try to interact with your neofauna someplace distinct and obvious. You had a feeling they were curious about your relationship with your party, so why not emphasize that?Best we've got
Steele is acting very very shady. In fact he's been dubious and evasive the entire quest, but his money is very real. I wonder when we'll finally have the truth out of him?
>But, after giving the capitol building a glance and seeing nothing there, you couldn't help but question the sudden prevalence of smoke lingering about the place.What is Huntington up to...?
>>6285127Jesus, Steele, learn to read a room. He's so tonedeaf and doesn't really seem to "get" other people... Is he a little autistic or something?
>>6285133>Get as far away from the city as possible, within reasonable walking distance of next meeting's location, and try to interact with your neofauna someplace distinct and obvious. You had a feeling they were curious about your relationship with your party, so why not emphasize that?>Spend the time tending to Florian instead. Your work with him during training hadn't been as extensive as you'd hoped, and you really wanted him to be able to produce that scent on command...Maybe we can try working with Florian where they can see us? i doubt we'll have time to really get him trained up with all the travel time, but it doesn't hurt to give him some special attention while we're out there. Discovering neofauna who can communicate clearly with humans and evince advanced intelligence will be important for Walter's understanding of mons, though.
>>6285202Please only submit one vote, I won't be counting your post otherwise
>>6285118thanks lol, but it's not new. I just came home from traveling, so I got access to my existing keyboard again instead of having to rely on touch keyboards. Huge improvement, I don't know how anyone types lengthy posts with those
>>6285210Then just >Get as far away from the city as possible, within reasonable walking distance of next meeting's location, and try to interact with your neofauna someplace distinct and obvious. You had a feeling they were curious about your relationship with your party, so why not emphasize that?
but, as I was saying, prioritize Florian when we get there.
>>6285127>Indiana was responding to his nickname, now, so maybe he'd also done some training... but there was no use in idle speculation.That is indeed strange, albeit less so than Steele's relationship with his own family.
>>6285133>Get as far away from the city as possible, within reasonable walking distance of next meeting's location, and try to interact with your neofauna someplace distinct and obvious. You had a feeling they were curious about your relationship with your party, so why not emphasize that?
>>6285133>Spend the time tending to Florian instead. Your work with him during training hadn't been as extensive as you'd hoped, and you really wanted him to be able to produce that scent on command...Stunning enemies is probably the handiest thing yet when you consider you can have the rest of our neofauna pals gank the target while it is immobilized.
Rolled 100 (1d100)
Alright, we're going to get as far away as possible from the city! Within walking distance of the meeting, of course.
Writing.
>>6285824excuse me
i'm sorry
what did that just roll
jesus fuck
okay, well, this is going to be interesting
hope I can get this out tonight
>>6285825>>6285824NAT 100 BABY LET'S GOOOOOOOOO
You decided to head for the wilderness with your neofauna in tow.
As you went, you constantly looked behind yourself and judged the distance. You gave your pocketwatch various glances, made quick calculations in your head... once you felt you'd gotten far enough not to be in the city, but close enough to the meeting so as not to be late, you decided to set up shop and start interacting with your team.
Florian, you felt, was sorely needing some attention. You had no idea how to pry the proper scents or powders out of him, and began simply by attempting to entertain him. These attempts ranged from funny faces, to various attempts at tickling, to feeding him treats, to playing various games. Such activities began to make your other neofauna jealous, much to your slight amusement, as Aster began forcefully nudging your shoulders or Taylor chittered into your ear for some attention.
You eventually acquiesced to their requests, having struggled to really get anything out of Florian or summon the hundredth fauna...
...until a pink mist began to waft around the five of you.
The mist was accompanied by a soft giggle. The kind you'd hear from a small child, given his favorite toy and told reassuring words.
The sound seemed to follow along the mist's trails, bringing an almost saccharine warmth to your heart. You turned around to see Florian dancing in a circle, over the moon with delight...
>100!
...and a mysterious light over the ever-darkening horizon.
Approaching the hill you'd all been sat upon.
Approaching you.
As the light got closer and closer, you could make out the silhouette of five whole figures. Not one was alike, and only one was even vaguely familiar to you. This silhouette was shared by your newest party member... and adorned with a small flame.
One of the silhouettes was floating, with a red dot somewhere within its vicinity. Another seemed to be highlighted best by a pair of burning red eyes, brighter than even the fire beside it, on a small, bipedal body. For just a moment, you almost could've sworn you saw a sixth silhouette join the first, floating silhouette... but by the time you blinked, it'd vanished.
No matter the number of silhouettes, however, you felt a slight bit of panic begin to creep up on you as you realized just how fast the group of them were approaching. Their total unfamiliarity and the odd prevalence of red lights began to concern you, especially given the rapidly-shrinking daylight, and as another silhouette joined the group your anxieties only mounted. You'd only been seeking one, maybe two of these creatures at most-- had you accidentally attracted an entire entourage?
Florian danced and danced, his giggles neverending, the pink mist further enveloping the five of you until even Mary became caught up in its decadently sweet scent. It was almost mellow enough to make you lose track of whatever you were doing, almost, but the urgency of this excursion weighed too heavily on you for Florian's new trick to truly entrance you. You shot your watch another look, bringing it slightly closer to Aster's now-burning mane to confirm the time and pray that it wasn't too far off from the start of the Stater meeting... quickly arriving at the unfortunate realization that you were now fighting the clock.
Were you sure you could fight whatever was coming your way, too?
>Yes! Who's to say they were here to pick a fight? You had a goal to meet, curiosity to sate, and were half-convinced that you'd successfully summoned that hundredth type of fauna you'd been researching. You weren't going to let another opportunity to see it slip through your fingers like this.
>No! Even if you'd found what you were looking for, it'd brought uninvited guests that you couldn't risk a confrontation with. Try to flee to the Stater meeting instead.
>You didn't need to be! So long as you somehow got Florian to stop emitting this mist, you were certain that horde of strange shapes would run off and leave you alone. That's what had attracted them in the first place, right? Try to get him to stop.
>Write-in.
>>6285858>Yes! Who's to say they were here to pick a fight? You had a goal to meet, curiosity to sate, and were half-convinced that you'd successfully summoned that hundredth type of fauna you'd been researching. You weren't going to let another opportunity to see it slip through your fingers like this.Its a calming mist. They'll calm down when they hit it... Probably.
>>6285857>...until a pink mist began to waft around the five of you.>The mist was accompanied by a soft giggle. The kind you'd hear from a small child, given his favorite toy and told reassuring words.>The sound seemed to follow along the mist's trails, bringing an almost saccharine warmth to your heart>the pink mist further enveloping the five of you until even Mary became caught up in its decadently sweet scent. It was almost mellow enough to make you lose track of whatever you were doing, almosthttps://bulbapedia.bulbagarden.net/wiki/Aromatic_Mist_(move)
Is it this? It sounds like a nice buffing move, even better here in a real-life-esque setting where moves that are useless in-game are much more important
>This silhouette was shared by your newest party member... and adorned with a small flame.What does this mean? It sounds unclear to me. No way this is 6 Abra that just showed up
>One of the silhouettes was floating, with a red dot somewhere within its vicinity.Duskull? This ain't the Lake Trio
>Another seemed to be highlighted best by a pair of burning red eyes, brighter than even the fire beside it, on a small, bipedal body.No fucking way this is a Marshadow, what is it?
>>6285858>Yes! Who's to say they were here to pick a fight? You had a goal to meet, curiosity to sate, and were half-convinced that you'd successfully summoned that hundredth type of fauna you'd been researching. You weren't going to let another opportunity to see it slip through your fingers like this.
>>6285914Another Ponyta, Duskull, and... A Patrat?
>>6285857>This silhouette was shared by your newest party member... and adorned with a small flame.If that is a Litwick, we need to GTFO now.
>>6285858>Yes! Who's to say they were here to pick a fight? You had a goal to meet, curiosity to sate, and were half-convinced that you'd successfully summoned that hundredth type of fauna you'd been researching. You weren't going to let another opportunity to see it slip through your fingers like this.We hightail it if they show any signs of hostility or try to drag us deeper into the forest. Ghost types are nothing to fuck around with.
I'm still hoping that one of them can talk.
>>6285858This is very dangerous, we don't even have our whole team in fighting shape since Mary is injured. Plus it's 6 enemies, too many.
>>6285914>https://bulbapedia.bulbagarden.net/wiki/Aromatic_Mist_(move)>Is it this?No, I think it's Sweet Scent, that attracts wild pokemon. The Nat 100 made it too effective.
I don't think we're close enough to the meeting spot to be able to call Andrew for help. And even if we could, fighting against the Abra might make it harder for us to befriend them later. I'm voting for
>No! Even if you'd found what you were looking for, it'd brought uninvited guests that you couldn't risk a confrontation with. Try to flee to the Stater meeting instead.
>>6285858>>Yes! Who's to say they were here to pick a fight? You had a goal to meet, curiosity to sate, and were half-convinced that you'd successfully summoned that hundredth type of fauna you'd been researching. You weren't going to let another opportunity to see it slip through your fingers like this.I'm sure the Staters will understand if we're a bit late... even if Walter has been the reliable sort so far. We ARE meant to be studying new flora after all
>No! Even if you'd found what you were looking for, it'd brought uninvited guests that you couldn't risk a confrontation with. Try to flee to the Stater meeting instead.
Are we taking care of Mary!? PLEASE for the love of GOD WE NEED TO GET HER LEG TREATED SOON PLEASE I WOULD NEVER FORGIVE MYSELF IF SHE WAS HURT AND WE WERE JUST FUCKING OFF IN A FIELD THE NAT 100 IS NICE BUT WE NEED TO GET HER MEDICAL ATTENTION PLEASE
>>6285858>Yes! Who's to say they were here to pick a fight? You had a goal to meet, curiosity to sate, and were half-convinced that you'd successfully summoned that hundredth type of fauna you'd been researching. You weren't going to let another opportunity to see it slip through your fingers like this.Let's write it all down.
>>6286061Mary is with us, enjoying Florian's aroma. Though that raises a good reason not to run: there's no way we'd escapenwhile carrying a sheep.
>>6285927Bingo (for three of them)!
>>6286024Bingo 2! Budew's line can't learn Aromatic Mist. Budew also can't learn Sweet Scent, but Roselia can and I misremembered Budew being able to learn it but forgot to check so uhhh ignore that.
>>6286086>Budew also can't learn Sweet Scent, but Roselia can and I misremembered Budew being able to learn it but forgot to checkDoesn't matter, fucking GameFreak are retards when it comes to movepools anyway
>Bingo (for three of them)!Patrat we can find elsewhere at night I expect. Ponyta aren't that uncommon either and Aster is right here. I want Walter to investigate Duskull because he's been bothered by Ghost types hinted since thread 1.
>It doggedly pursues its prey wherever it goes. However, the chase is abandoned at sunrise.>Duskull's victims suffer an intense chill as the Pokémon siphons their life-force away, glaring at them with its bright red eye all the while>In the dead of night, these Pokémon wander through towns in search of children, whose vital energy is a Duskull's favorite food.>It loves the crying of children. It startles bad kids by passing through walls and making them cry.Well, it could be worse...
>>6286106Seems like a lot of folklore stuff compared to that one dog that literally drains your life.
>>6285858>Yes! Who's to say they were here to pick a fight? You had a goal to meet, curiosity to sate, and were half-convinced that you'd successfully summoned that hundredth type of fauna you'd been researching. You weren't going to let another opportunity to see it slip through your fingers like this.I don't think Mary is in any shape to run...
>>6286086Clearly we have a special event Budew, kek.
>>6286106A ghost type would be a good get for our party, if we can swing it... And for the Stater cause, as well!
Okay, we'll be staying here and enduring the horde. Writing!
>>6286326>Clearly we have a special event Budew, kek.Yeah, sure, let's got with that. :')
Better than "OP forgot to do five seconds of research before writing" anyways lmao
post9
md5: 2dfac1c28b37635fc49727cef5a4ca2a
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Sure you were. Your party didn't seem particularly aggressive after smelling Florian's new aroma... why would these wild creatures?
Your nerves weren't fully calmed. You kept giving your pocket watch glances. There was no way you were going to make it on time to the Stater meeting anymore... but, as the wild neofauna began to close in on you, that initial panic began to dwindle.
The crowd was sizeable, for sure, but it... b-but... it...
A cold shiver ran down your spine. The floating silhouette caught your attention and didn't let your eyes go anywhere else. Both of your focused on its one... its one, dark-red eye, contained within a horrifyingly human skull. The skull itself was shrouded in shadow, as if the night itself had created this monstrosity specifically to unnerve you.
While your eyes were fixated on the abominable creature, you saw Florian's mist begin to fade. You felt him clambering up your foot, squeaking confusion, while you didn't dare look away from the... you struggled to process just whose skull that could have been... the floating skull creature.
Your hairs began to stand on end as the creature drew closer, tilting its skull as it seemed to notice various parts of your own. Before you knew it, you could feel the cold stench of death grazing your cheeks. The frigid, sterile air of a mortuary was practically whispering into your ear as the strange creature seemed to inspect every part of your face.
The skull flew so close to your eyelids that you could see horrid cracks in its facade. Bits and pieces of bone, cracked, flaking, indented and empty. As nighttime began to descend on the hills you stood upon, the creature only seemed to grow ever more endless and ever more terrifying.
"Behh?" It took Mary, sat by your side on her special cushion, to snap you out of the terrified stare you'd been holding for several minutes.
You'd only noticed how long it had been when you finally blinked-- your eyeballs were nearly as dry as the skull now floating mere inches from your nose, forcing your skin to seek refuge from your vascular system as you heard the creature whisper nothingness and meaningless babble into the wind. Its voice sounded like that of the reaper's itself, deep and aching and groaning with every word, never producing any real sounds beyond those typically attributed to winter winds or old, dying trees.
As the Khrysómallon you were now moving to protect nudged her wooled head against your knee, the creature began to make a sound that... almost sounded like laughter.
It was a hollow, crumbling sound. If you had to compare it to anything, it would be akin to an entire skeletal system being forced into parts of itself by harsh winds. For all the terrifying aspects of this creature... its laughter, of all things, could be argued to be the most mundane.
"Nnneigh!" Aster reared up, unhappy with both the obvious ghost's laughter and the other Ponyta who'd come along with it. The two horses seemed confused by each others' presences, trying to make moves that neither quite picked up on, and eventually began scattering to the hills to sort things out in private.
His sudden departure brought you back to the rest of earth. Back to Taylor running away from a strange-looking crow and another one of those giant eagle chicks, back to Florian grimacing at the oversized rat checking him out-- you made mental note to add its nocturnal sight to your notes-- back to Mary trying her best to avoid... a strange-looking dog.
This dog, you figured, was the ghost's closest companion. It, too, had a skull upon its head... but, unlike the... unlike the ghost, who was defiling human skeletons to cover its true visage, this black-and-red hound simply used an unidentifiable type of skull as ornament. The exact creature this skull belonged to boggled the mind-- its shape was relatively simple, naturally flat, and perfectly-shaped to cover up the hound's forehead. You wondered if it was even a type of ornament, or just a strange protrusion that the dog was born with... but something else, even stranger, caught your attention before you could ponder that.
To your great surprise, not one of these creatures were being actively aggressive.
Not towards you, not towards your party. Taylor was being chased by the birds, sure, but they'd had multiple opportunities to catch him and hadn't acted upon any of them. It was... bizarre.
As a test of ability, you stuck your hand between Mary and the strange hound. It was a reckless move-- one you likely wouldn't have made if you'd been any calmer. And you regretted it soon after-- the hound was still peeved enough to shove your hand to the side by way of its teeth. But... it wasn't trying to bite you. It was just trying to move you away from Mary... to sniff her face.
What on earth?
You glanced at Florian, now exchanging a confused look with your own, the rat having lost interest in him completely and resolving to stare at you. What had he done? What had you done, to warrant any of this? Given Florian some attention?
...come to think of it, you hadn't been doing much of that as of late...
You checked your pocket watch again, unaware of the shadow creeping up behind you. Something caught in your throat, your temperature dropped several degrees, all of time seemed to stand still--
FLASH
--until something popped into existence behind you, throwing you forward and face-first into the plush Sacramento grass now cushioning your face.
When you peeled yourself off the earth and turned around to look... you found the hundredth fauna, gleaming gold, floating in front of the very ghost now keeping you shackled to the earth.
Its arms were spread wide, its tail was raised--
And, within moments, it'd been flung right at you.
You fell back, again, just barely catching the hundredth fauna's limp body as you did so. The creature softly tumbled onto your legs, but you couldn't help looking up to confirm its assailant.
Your... your eyes met the ghost's. The ghost's eye. Its one eye stole both of yours once more, clearly agitated. The creature rumbled like the earth itself, its skull rattling as its single eye bounced back and forth within it, the ghost raising both its ghastly "arms" above its head as it approached you and making a noise not unlike a tree about to fall over...
...and focused its eye on the strange, humanoid creature now laying akimbo in your lap.
>Bend yourself over the hundredth fauna to protect it. The ghost isn't aiming for you, and you can't risk it doing anything to further harm this creature.
>Try to punch the ghost. If that's a real human skull... if that thing can feel anything... it might work? It'll get it far away from you for sure.
>Call out an attack that one of your neofauna knows in the hopes that one of them can help you.
>Write-in.
>>6286397>>Bend yourself over the hundredth fauna to protect it. The ghost isn't aiming for you, and you can't risk it doing anything to further harm this creature.
>>6286397>>Call out an attack that one of your neofauna knows in the hopes that one of them can help you.
>>6286397>Call out an attack that one of your neofauna knows in the hopes that one of them can help you.There's a reason people in Pokeworld train mons to defend them instead of usually trying to fight them mano y mano.
>>6286397>Call out an attack that one of youe neofauma knows in the hopes that one of them can help you.If we're only looking to detain then maybe Taylor's string or Mary's cotton wouldnbe best, otherwise I think Mary is the only one who can actually hurt him with her lightning.
>>6286417Aren't those Normal-type attacks, and thus doomed to fail? We need Aster or Mary to use elemental attacks.
>>6286419Ignoring that WE don't know that, neither String Shot nor Cotton Spore are Normal.
>>6286397>Call out an attack that one of your neofauna knows in the hopes that one of them can help you.Uhhh what do we have that works on Duskull? Cotton Spore? String Shot?
>>6286419String Shot is Bug
Cotton Spore is Grass
>Ponyta and Aster both confused at each other and heading away to figure things out
>Murkrow and Rufflet harmlessly trolling Taylor
>Patrat silently staring at whoever
>Houndour sniffing Mary and just being neutral
>Duskull going on the offensive (or simply trying to spook Walter harder?) after his initial spook attempt got blocked by Abra
Kind of a balanced situation here. Could go to shit any moment though, but I figure after hindering Duskull things will be fine. Patrat is clearly this wild group's quiet tardwrangler, and he saw Duskull being the one to start shit and not us
>>6286445>>6286446Huh. Dang, I thought almost all status moves were normal or psychic. Shows how long it's been since I played... I stand corrected and chastened.
>>6286397>Call out an attack that one of your neofauna knows in the hopes that one of them can help you.Maybe we should call Taylor to String Shot the Duskull to keep its arms literally tied, then fucking book it with the Abra in tow.
>>6286397>>6286467>Call out an attack that one of your neofauna knows in the hopes that one of them can help you.+1 for trying the non-damaging attacks first
>>6286394>>6286395>>6286397>Bend yourself over the hundredth fauna to protect it. The ghost isn't aiming for you, and you can't risk it doing anything to further harm this creature.Let's see if the poor guy is hurt. Maybe have Taylor step in to help with his bandages.
Calling out an attack has won handily!
Seems like there's a relatively uniform consensus to try having Taylor use String Shot on the Duskull, so please roll a 1d100+4! Best of three rules!
Trying a new way of handling these rolls, let me know if this works for you. I don't want to indicate rolls in answers anymore, so I'm fiddling around with other ways of doing this.
Rolled 15 + 4 (1d100 + 4)
>>6286681
Rolled 47 + 4 (1d100 + 4)
>>6286681>>6286688oops, retrying
Rolled 89 + 4 (1d100 + 4)
>>6286681
winning
md5: 9fc0f53bc6d236964e798b81a3251bb0
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>>6286690We can't stop winning :)
>>6286690Oh, wow, that was a lucky roll. Writing!
post10
md5: 40a659413796b49a4bbe7282ad621070
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>89 + 4 = 93!
"Taylor!" You wasted no time, calling out to your leafy friend the moment you saw him.
Much to your relief, your caterpillar companion immediately understood what you needed. Within moments, the ghost's arms were bound above its head, forced downward by gravity and failing to hit their target soon thereafter. The chilly gust brought with their downturn narrowly missed both you and the hundredth fauna.
All this commotion seemed to attract some other members of the pack's attentions. Aster's mirror image and the birds chasing Taylor remained preoccupied, with the latter now fending off various Shots of String from Taylor himself, but the rest of the group began to approach.
The rat seemed... confused, more than anything. It'd always seemed like the passive sort, but the most it did was cock its head and chitter towards the ghost after approaching. The hound, too, seemed more curious about the golden creature's smell than anything else.
The ghost itself-- you forced your eyes away from it, your hairs still stiffer than a stick-- the ghost was grumbling irritation, glaring right at you, clearly agitated. It tried again to hit you, failing a second time, before attempting to saw the silk bands off its arms with the...
A sizeable amount of vomit swelled in your throat as you realized that the skull still held teeth. Real, human, teeth. How... how old they were, who they belonged to... such speculation was out of the question, and best left untouched for now, but you dreaded the thought of having to figure it out eventually.
Eventually. Sometime other than now. You gave your pocket watch another glance. You were already well past the start of the Stater meeting, and if you stayed here any longer you figured you'd put your position at risk.
You had to find some way to leave, and quick... but your gaze shifted once more to Mary, who kept readjusting her position to avoid pressuring her infected leg. The rest of your team might be fine, but you would need to carry her... which made running very risky, especially if you were going to be chased. Not to mention the hundredth fauna, seemingly collapsed, burdening you further-- the creature seemed properly unconscious, in a way that would require you carry it too.
The ghost tore at its bands fiercely, its expression growing further and further disdainful of you. Small parts of its thready shackles could be heard snapping, even as you inched closer to your wounded wooly friend, and its unnerving rumbling sounds began again.
You had to figure out a way to get out of here... and fast.
>Write-in.
>>6286903I'm gambling on Aster being able to control his flames, but maybe we could Tie Mary onto his back while we run with the little guys? We eould have to put an article of clothing between to insulate him as best as we can on such short notice.
This, however doesn't take into account how to placate the horde that we've attracted.
Wait, could Aster convince the other Ponyta to carry either us or Mary to the Staters meeting?
>>6286910>could Aster convince the other Ponyta to carry either us or Mary to the Staters meeting?This would be a very high DC to clear, but at this stage I'd say it's possible. Would probably need to figure out how to get his attention first, given that he's further away than the rest of the party and mingling with another one of his kind though
>>6286910>>6286919Sorry, I misread; convincing the other Ponyta is very likely out of the question, but commanding Aster himself to do it isn't.
>>6286903Strap Abra to our back and carry Mary? Taylor may be able to help us with getting situated but I don't know about fast.
And we've ticked off the Duskull... RIP
>>6286903How far are we from the stater meeting. If we tried to attract Andrew's attention by e.g. having Mary throw some lightning at the ground, would he notice that there's lightning without a storm and come for help? Especially since we're late.
>>6286929Abra strapped to the back
Mary being carried by Walter
Florian safe in the pocket
Taylor on the shoulder running support and interference
Aster being Aster
Sounds good? I vaguely remember Taylor could ride Aster just fine perhaps despite the type disparity? Alternatively we could call Aster over and strap Abra to his back instead?
>>6286929>>6286944>>6286960Backin these into one big ol write in.
Strap Abra to our back, have Mary bring down lightning as a kinda flate, then carry her with us with Taylor on the shoulder and Florian in our pocket as we quickly ride Aster to the meeting place.
That sound good? It better because I REALLY WANNA HEAL MARY PLEASE I KNOW I SOUND LIKE A BROKEN RECORD BUT I LOVE HER SO AND CAN'T BEAR THAT SHE HAS A WOUND WE HAVE YET TO TREAT I DONT WANT HER TO LOSE A LEG PLEASE
We shouldn't have stayed out here this long. We should have just gone to the meeting right away. God damn it all people this is NOT how we add more people to the cause!
>>6286944Somewhere around 5, 10 minutes away? Aster's in the opposite direction from the meeting. If you let off lightning as a warning, he might not notice it immediately.
>>6286971Sure we can try this. Might be worth working with Aster later to have him come to us when we whistle.
>heal MaryWe don't have access to potions and haven't stumbled upon any pokemon that can heal just yet. I do think we should try to clean out the wound and keep the bandages fresh at the very least.
fear
md5: 4612dce8f458306f15518adb1c7fcce2
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>>6286903Firstly: whatever we do, do NOT look at the Duskull again. Waltur is clearly not handling that well. Surprises me, I never thought of it as that much of a scary mon. But seeing the images the QM posts of it, it might just look a slight bit different than GameFreak's official depiction.
Secondly: run to the meeting spot with Mary in our hands and the Abra on Aster's back. Why Aster? He's faster. Don't forget to scoop up Florian and Taylor, and hightail it for the meeting. If anything, the Stater's can shoot the Duskull if it comes after us. The rest of the Neofauna can be ignored unless they pose a direct threat.
Thirdly: apologize to Muyr for being late. He wouldn't have any idea of where we have been at all.
>>6287211>do NOT look at the Duskull again. Waltur is clearly not handling that well. Surprises me, I never thought of it as that much of a scary monI think it's using Leer or Scary Face.
>>6287211Why not switch to carrying Abra and Mary on Aster's back? I expect Abra is lighter and we could move faster. Or do you think Mary would be injured on Aster's back?
>>6286971+1
And adding that Taylor should try to throw silk to tie pairs of similar-size wild pokemon to each other? Hopefully that would both slow them down, and maybe even start fights between them, distracting them from us.
I hope we're not asking for too much QM.
>>6287326Duskull is the only one overtly hostile, we shouldn't agitate them.
>>6286903There's no way the Staters part with one of only two real Trainers they have, especially if we explain we were accosted by a dangerous ghost AND figured out a way to attract small hordes of domesticable superbeasts.
>>6286919>>6286920If we knew Abra could Teleport, I'd go for that. Since we don't...
>Ask Aster to carry your party away from hereThat's my vote.
>>6287211You also have to grapple with the fact that, Phantump aside, Walter and the rest of humanity have presumably never encountered a real-life ghost before. If a floating skull wreathed in shadow suddenly appeared in my house right now, I'd sure be spooked.
Alright, from what I can gather the general consensus is as follows:
>Try to get Aster to carry the party on his back
>Carry what he can't yourself
>Run for the meeting
There are further details, of course, but this seems to be the generally agreed-upon gist of things so I'll get to writing it.
Your thoughts instantly jumped to Aster. Sure, he wasn't that large a horse-- you couldn't ride upon him yet, and you weren't convinced he wasn't still a foal... but he was big enough to carry a fair amount of your team, and that's all that mattered.
Snap
The Duskull's silky chains snapped, thread by thread. You commanded Mary to strike the ground with lightning, far away from the wild neofauna but near-enough to Aster, and hoped he'd understand what the gesture was supposed to mean.
Snap
More threads came undone, but your heart began to soar. Aster came charging your way, abandoning the second Ponyta to come to a sudden hault beside you. You rushed to rearrange everyone around you as soon as he did-- the golden stranger was left on the ground as you hoisted Mary onto Aster's side, her legs hanging over his shoulders, then motioned for Taylor to join him and scooped Florian up and into your shirt pocket again (despite his protests).
SNAP
Florian being snatched caused a stir in the remaining crowd. The formerly passive wild neofauna began to share the ghost's sentiment and grow agitated. You kept your eyes averted from all of them, focusing solely on the task at hand, but the rising chorus of growls and chirps around you were very hard to ignore.
SNAP
With little time to spare, you realized you wouldn't have enough space to carry the hundredth neofauna upon Aster. You were already risking it, with Mary's injury left hanging and Taylor left somewhat unsteady, but didn't have the time to make adjustments-- you scrambled to carry the hundredth neofauna like you used to carry your younger brothers, throwing its arms over your shoulders and carrying its legs, stumbling backwards as its substantial tail threatened to throw you off-balance--
SNAP!!
The last of the ghost's threads snapped in twain, and the ghost immediately vanished. You had no idea where it was going, nor did you want to find out-- with another motion, you signaled for Aster to run straight ahead, and ran after him yourself.
You stumbled over every step, scrambling down the hills outside of Sacramento, following the faint flame atop Aster's head and running vaguely in the direction of the Stater meeting... hoping you were met with a friendly crowd, and not universal backlash.
<><><><><>
"Aster!" You called, out of breath.
The young stallion had already stalled, his hooves kicking up a cloud of dirt as he came to a stop... in front of the same stage-like setup from last meeting.
He stopped dead short of the pond Mr. Muyr's neofauna had come from, narrowly missing a small row of seated Staters and a small table of refreshments.
"Aster, you... you made it..!" You stumbled after him, coughing up dust and grinning from ear to ear.
The entire meeting stopped dead in its tracks. The crowd of sixty-something people had fallen silent. Every attendee was staring your way, with the only deviations in attention drifting towards Aster instead, and Mr. Muyr's speech had been thoroughly interrupted.
Despite all of this, you were too inundated with adrenaline to think. You were grinning from ear to ear, leaning on Aster's side, and... laughing. Laughing, like a madman, to the point of nearly tearing up.
"...Buchanan?" To your great surprise, Steele was the first to rush to your side. He greeted Aster with a tip of his hat, then turned his attention back to you. "Where on earth--"
"Buchanan!" Mr. Muyr roared, a hint of acid leaking into his tone. "How in the world-- Excuse me, consider this meeting postponed..."
Rumor quickly infected the crowd, spreading from person to person in hushed whipsers. What were you doing here? Had you grown an extra pair of yellow arms, with claws? Was this all planned as part of the meeting?
Mr. Muyr didn't bother dispelling any of these rumors, instead pushing Steele aside and helping you off of Aster. He kept his voice low, but appropriately harsh. "You must have a very good reason for arriving like this. Had you shown up late, but in a normal manner, I would have been able to excuse it. But right in the middle of my speech..."
"S-sorry, s-sir, ah... ah was searchin' for some neofauna out back," you jabbed behind you with your free hand, "a-an' things went awry..."
"You aren't in charge of neofauna armaments, why were you..?"
"I's not important right now," you panted. There were higher priorities that needed taking care of. "Listen-- 'm not sure I outran'm properly. They didn't seem too happy when ah took off, 'n a few've them-- a few've them could fly--" You had to stop to catch your breath.
"...are you saying you've just put this entire meetin' at risk?" Muyr's eyes went wide, and he shot a glance back at the pond.
"W-well, n-no, ah hope not--"
*Ch-chrrp?*
Your heart skipped a beat. Aster whinnied, already dancing to the left, struggling to reconcile his newfound desire to attack a stranger with the large cargo on his back.
A meager portion of the former swarm of wild neofauna descended upon the meeting. Of the six original members, only two remained. The rat... and the oversized eagle chick.
Neither seemed particularly disturbed, but they seemed to greatly disturb the crowd. Several Staters exclaimed surprise-- still more shuffled in their seats or noticeably reacted. That only seemed to egg the two on further, and both the rat and the chick soon dispersed into the rows of seats to examine whatever caught their fancy.
Andrew, who'd been on the opposite side of the stage from you and mostly keeping to himself until now, quickly saw fit to command his chick-- to start getting aggressive, which prompted Steele to run over and attempt to convince him against the idea. Muyr, too, wasn't pleased, mumbling about how "that idiot" was going to start a fire--
The sound of rattling bones rang in your ears.
Next thing you knew, you were stumbling forward and catching onto a poor Stater's chair to keep yourself upright. "Sorry-- sorry, ah--"
A chorus of concern rang out across the small clearing as people noticed the floating skull now joining the rat and eagle chick. The entire meeting bordered on complete chaos.
"EVERYONE," Muyr announced as he stomped onto the stage "TO ATTENTION!"
His rallying cry fell on deaf ears. People started to blur into chairs as various Staters tried to avoid the ghost, get nearer to the rat, or get a better look at the eagle chick. A mix of terror, curiosity, and utter uncertainty had already enraptured most of the crowd.
The former general's irritation was lost among the chaos, too-- he himself may as well have not existed, until he brought out his own partner.
SPLLLLLSH
Muyr's otter jumped out of the pond it had been dwelling in, brandishing its scallop like a sword and immediately throwing itself at the ghost. Muyr hadn't even opened his mouth-- much to his chagrin, doing so didn't seem to change much at all.
The eagle chick flew atop the crowd, absentmindedly plucking at peoples' hair or holding stares with random Staters! The rat ran between the seats, plucking things from pockets and flashing its eye-lights wherever it pleased! The ghost, now embroiled in an increasingly destructive tussle with Muyr's disobedient otter, seemed to blink in and out of existence while shooting multicolored orbs of light at its opponent!
Among all this, Andrew was being physically held back by Steele as his chick itched for battle. Buckwheat, too, seemed more than ready to fight-- he was only held back by the extensive amount of cargo weighing him down, as well as his wielder's lack of orders.
At the edge of this whole mess... was you. You, who had arguably caused this entire kerfuffle in the first place. Aster, who was carrying nearly your entire party on his back. Mary, who was protesting her position nearly as much as Andrew's chick. Taylor, who was too busy trampling on her head to get a better view of things to worry. Florian, who'd... already fallen asleep in your pouch...
...and the hundredth fauna you'd seen in Sacramento, still unconscious, safely on your back and somehow rather unharmed.
Your mind exploded with ideas-- sketch every part of it? Give it a title without knowing its habits? Classify it, even temporarily! Take footprints, claw-prints, general measurements-- all for later.
Right now, you were looking out over a panicked crowd and a trio of troublemakers that could either end the entire meeting... or give it a whole new slant.
>Get on Muyr's stage and try to catch peoples' attention. You aren't sure if they'll listen to you over Muyr, but you have an idea. If only you can get people's focus to be on catching these neofauna instead of gawking at them...
>Chase down the neofauna yourself. Solicit Steele and Andrew's help in corraling the beasts separately, then incapacitate them one by one. You can't risk letting them run free like this if they're going to upheave the meeting this much.
>Write-in.
>>6287454Meetings can be scheduled, but opportunities must be seized in the moment.
>Get on Muyr's stage and try to catch peoples' attention. You aren't sure if they'll listen to you over Muyr, but you have an idea. If only you can get people's focus to be on catching these neofauna instead of gawking at them...
>>6287459+1
Well this is some serious trial by fire situation innit?
>Patrat
Decent enough for whoever is interested in rats, being a night watchman, shiny things, etc.
>Rufflet
For people who like birds (BIRDS ARE VERY IMPORTANT!!!), injun types, AMERICA, etc.
>Duskull
This is the biggest and hardest sell for any friendship especially since these 60 random people are seeing an actual floating skull ghost for the first time in their life. Maybe, just maybe... there is one secretly deranged madman or one with a fierce daredevil streak lurking among the crowd, that might feel it in their bones to face a mini-reaper head on and befriend it?
>>6287454>>Chase down the neofauna yourself. Solicit Steele and Andrew's help in corraling the beasts separately, then incapacitate them one by one. You can't risk letting them run free like this if they're goingThough I'm not against shouting orders at anyone who looks like they're going to listen. Hopefully a couple Staters will have new neofauna partners after this (and if Muyr has any sense he's going to want that chick just for political optics).
>>6287454>Get on Muyr's stage and try to catch peoples' attention. You aren't sure if they'll listen to you over Muyr, but you have an idea. If only you can get people's focus to be on catching these neofauna instead of gawking at them...
>>6287454>Get on Muyr's stage and try to catch peoples' attention. You aren't sure if they'll listen to you over Muyr, but you have an idea. If only you can get people's focus to be on catching these neofauna instead of gawking at them...We should tell them to:
- Stay calm.
- Avoid poking the beasts. They are friends, but they are still wild animals.
- Try to feed or be friendly with the rat and the eagle chick.
- Steer clear of the ghost; let Muyr's otter handle it.
Then, we should:
- Ask Andrew to send his big bird upon the ghost. If he is really itching for a fight, he can have it with the one thing that is being aggressive towards us.
- EXCUSE YOURSELF FOR BARGING INTO THE MEETING LIKE THIS.
- Hand the stage back to Muyr when the commotion dies down. There is no need to postpone the whole meeting for this.
nonfucntional today anons, sorry
nothig major just got like no sleep and i desperatly need some rest
Entry tomorrow, vote's still open until then
>>6287574I'm on board with this approach.
>>6287701Feel better soon, QM. Thanks for keeping us looped in.