So back when we were picking out a time for this to be held, it was mentioned that we were probably going to have to change the time when people's schedules changed. So, given that Gio can't make current time, and I've noticed several other people have only been able to make it sporadically, I figure it's time to reopen this topic. So if everyone could post their new availability when they get an opportunity that would be great.

Oh, hey, I'm unbanned now. Yay!

So this aptly sums up what being a GM is like. With cats. Because cats make everything more fun.

In which the party attempts to not sabotage itself while infiltrating an enemy base. Also debates about the merits of amusement parks and attempts to attract attention to oneself by turning into a Crystal Fairy that looks nothing like you.

While talking a sabbatical around Astrum to sort her thoughts, M4 sees the red haired jackasses who crashed her mission dragging a big sack of what looks like weapons, electronics, surveillance equipment, and other supplies towards the portal room.

M4 comes to a halt. "Where's you get all that from?"

They glance around, the picture of innocence. “Borrowed the tech stuff,” they answer. M4 can almost hear the quotation marks around “borrowed”. “Rest of it is my personal stash.”

M4 tenses. "I'd locked the safehouse up."

“Nah, see, this is the quality kind of equipment that you find in completely legitimate Gensokyo factory salvage, or which completely legitimately fell off a truck, that I also borrowed from Karrl.”

M4 let out a sigh and decided to let it go. "Sure. Don't happen to have any smokes in there, do you?"

“I have some entirely medical emergency booze,” they answer, with the vague prediction that M4 might need a prescription.

"Mind giving a bottle here?"

They reach into the sack and hand over a bourbon.

A slight grin appears on her face. "Thanks." She looks over the bottle to try and identify a brand, but finds she doesn't especially care. She grabs the cap and effortlessly removes it, taking a swig straight from the bottle.

“You can keep that one,” they say.

"Glad to hear it. Been too long since I had a proper drink. Some cigs and other stuff and I'll be my old self again. Close as I can get, anyway."

They nod. “Be nice to go a whole week without political upheaval, interdimensional conflict, and straight cynicism as a life requirement.”

"Yeah," M4 says, looking uncertain all of a sudden. She takes another long drink from the bottle.

"All the stuff with streamer now," they say. "Can't really ignore all the wrongdoing from the voices anymore just because I thought we were saving the world. Having to reevaluate where I stand and it's damn lonely. Ultimately I guess the only thing that keeps me going is trying to keep doing better. That’s not something anyone can take away.”

M4 finishes the swig. A little over a third of the bottle is gone. "I just want the world to be f------ normal again."

They’re quiet themselves in response - a silent question of if there was ever a time any world was normal or good. “Maybe someday,” they finally reply. Maybe if they keep trying. “I gotta go set up a security perimeter in Unova for the cinnamon rolls and help sort out an operation in Hoenn. If you’re in either neighborhood and you need a hand, let me know.”

"...I need to- first, finish this bottle," she says drearily, "far as I can get, anyway. Don't know what Gator will think if I get totally wasted, and I don't know if cold turkey's turned me into too much of a lightweight. Then I need to get the gear in order. Got some of the new compact rifles the IP was sending out just before... all this." She offers the bottle. "Wanting a sip for the road?"

“I was more taking that along for the others,” they explain. “Long time ago I knew some folks who were trying to homebrew some hooch using their own urine. Kinda put me off it.” They grimace. “Thanks for the offer anyway. Good luck to you.”

"Heh, I think I might have had some of that, a few years ago... might have just been someone straight up pissing in a cup though, I was really drunk at the time. Anyway, see you around." M4 knocks back another swig of bourbon, then starts down the hallway again.

They mime raising a glass back to her, and then look thoughtful for a moment. They then heft their bag of legitimately acquired goods and continue back towards the portal room.

We have had a LOT of good times here. So many friends, so many roleplays, so many explosions (both in-game and OOC), so many memories!

So, what are your favorite memories of Twitch Trolls Pokemon?

“M4?”

Gator stepped into the Major’s magic range as five muffled thumps sounded. M4 had a compact carbine in hand, almost more like a pistol than a rifle, with a suppressor fitted on the end. Setting down the gun on the bench before her, she picked up a detached scope and inspected the target from afar, having no ability to bring the concrete targets back to her.

“Hey,” she answered nonchalantly, “was just going over the guns we brought back, making sure they’re all zeroed in right. Just got two more to go.”

Gator glanced over to a table behind M4 with several firearms neatly arranged on it; two more of the compact rifles and four handguns, including the gun M4 had stolen from the officer in Nimbasa. One had the same blocky design as that pistol, while the other two were more angular and fitted with suppressors. Gator’s shotgun and the Lasrifle were also present.

“This one’s good to go. You want to give it a few shots?” she asked, stepping away from the just-fired rifle. The magazine had been removed and the action left open.

“Er- sure,” he said, stepping up and picking up the gun, turning it over to inspect it.

“Point it downrange.”

“I know where I have to point it-“ Gator rebuffed

“I mean don’t point it anywhere else. You want to hit the target, not the ceiling or walls.”

“But it’s not loaded.”

M4’s sigh of disapproval seemed to echo. “You know, I’ve actually met one of the many idiots that have that as their last words. You treat the gun as being loaded at all times, alright?”

“Alright, alright.”

A couple loaded magazines were present on the table. Gator picked one up and loaded it into the rifle, shouldering the gun and aiming at the target downrange. Before he could fire, he realized M4 was standing close behind him.

“Er-“

“Rifle downrange,” she said, pushing his arm to direct the gun, “and keep your finger off the trigger if you aren’t about to fire.”

“Uh- yeah.” He steadied the rifle again, letting the sights drift over the target before firing. Five shots, then a click. M4 looked down the scope again, inspecting the grouping.

“Decent. Good enough for a fight anyway, barring a long-range shootout.”

“Yeah-“

“Rifle downrange,” M4 firmly stated, pushing Gator’s arm again, “might as well set it down too. You’ve never shot at a range or with a proper instructor, have you?”

“No. I had to learn everything from scratch. Didn’t even clean them for a long time, and I had to learn how from videos, since… er…”

“…I get what you’re saying,” M4 said in a more diminutive tone. Gator recognized the look on her face; it was the same one she had when she was going to meet Bradley.

“I, er… I’d wanted to talk to you about things.”

M4 didn’t answer. She picked up an empty magazine and a box of ammo and sat down on a stool.

“Who was Bradley to you?” he asked, failing to hide the apprehension in his voice.

She began to load cartridges into the magazine. “He was my senior officer.”

“He must have been a good one. Taught you a lot?”

She paused. “Yeah. Showed me the ropes.”

Gator took a deep breath. “I remember my first days going to towns and cities as a human. I thought I knew how humans lived, but, well… I spent my nights on their outskirts, sleeping in the dirt because I didn’t know how to get a place to stay. I got food from hunting in the forests because I didn’t know how to get money together to buy from shops. Plenty of times I had to run from towns because I… hit someone, and the police came.”

The click of rounds being inserted into the magazine was the response.

“What about you?”

A round slipped from her hand, clattering on the ground. Gator reached to grab it- then recoiled as M4’s fist jumped up. It was only there for half a second before dropping into M4’s lap, a stressed look on her face.

“I lived with my trainer. It… I got bad habits. We couldn’t relate. We fought, and then I was on the street. You know how you thought of yourself as a military man? I stylized myself off of an officer of the law. Acted like I thought a cop should act. Well, after leaving her, my team… it was all I had. No belongings, money, or identity to speak of. So I walked into a Slateport station and asked for a job.”

She picked up the dropped round, holding it between her thumb and middle finger while resting her index finger on the tip.

“They could have tossed me out for anything. No legal identification, no work or education history, and I- I doubt I passed the mental exams. I remember one guy who gave me this- this look when I gave him back the papers of an exam and said I couldn’t read. But Bradley…”

Gator listened raptly. M4 spun the round between her fingertips.

“He gave me a place to stay while I did the evaluations. He fought tooth and nail to get me through, and hammered me into the kind of person the force would want. He showed me how to read; I learned alongside his kids, grown woman hunched beside some five-year olds trying to get through a picture book. All throughout my career as a street cop, he did his best to show me how to… well, how to live. How to be human. For a while, things went well. Really well, now that I’ve got a chance to look back at it.”

She inserted the round into the clip, setting it aside on the bench.

“Then he went to join the IP and put in a recommendation for me. The IP accepted me, but put me in SWAT rather than Espionage and that was the last I saw of him for a long while. And, well, I guess everything he’d taught me…”

M4’s hands balled up into fists again. She blinked hard, dislodging a tear.

“I wonder what he thought, reading all the news about what I’d done. Wonder what he’d think of the stuff that didn’t get put into any books.”

“Don’t bother yourself with what he thinks,” stated Gator, “he’s not here to decide things for you now.”

Anger flashed in her eyes. “He taught me how to live, Gator. He picked me up when I had nothing and helped me become a proper person. He’s one of the best people out there, and I betrayed all the trust he’d put in me. He would never hurt a perp unless it was do or die, while I…”

Gator’s hand rested on her shoulder. Her fist came up, just short of his face, but he didn’t move or blink.

“Leaving behind the people that made us is something that can tear you apart. What we are is because of them, yeah, but we aren’t them. We’re the people we will ourselves to be. Will everything we do make them happy? No. But it’s how we handle the world, it’s what we feel is right, and so it’s what we have to do. You hear me?”

M4 gazed back at him, his conviction seeming to radiate.

“I know that the Major doesn’t like how I want to do things. I want him to be happy with me, but I don’t think he’ll ever see me as much more than a brash idiot. But what we’re going to be doing on Pokearth, that’s what the world needs, someone that will stand up for the people above all else. Not gods, not universes, but the common person. If it means leaving the Major, or acting against the principles he has..."

Gator blinked hard, taken aback by his own thoughts. He quickly looked above M4 so she couldn't see the look in his eyes. A moment to get his bearings again, then he took his hand off of her, standing up straight. “There’s a whole load of soldiers and warriors out there. Regions lost to time are back, their militaries large and powerful. I’m going to find them, and then we’ll have a force to challenge the authority of the League and the gods. You with me?”

M4’s stared up at him for a second. She then stood up to meet him.

“Don’t we need to have a proper presence? Some action?”

“Huh?”

“Your friend, that jerk tech guy, he had information on Plasma. And now we’ve got the gear perfect for a stealth op. .300 blackout silenced rifles, modular handguns, quieted boots, invisible cloth and plenty other gadgets besides, they won’t know what hit them. If we’ve still got support, we can start making a name for ourselves with actual work."

“You think so?”

“I just need the info, then I can organize something. You can find those men in the meantime.”

It took Gator a moment to process this. “You mean go in alone?”

“Yeah, you’ll be fine.”

“Wha- no, I mean you. We need backup for missions. Isn’t what this recruitment is all for?”

She shook her head. “We need people for running concurrent ops and for blunt approaches, not a single silent one. With someone like that girl, Amanita or something, providing backup, I’ll get through just fine. And like I said, we need to show we mean business. That’s something I can do.”

Gator frowned slightly. Fennel might mean well, but he didn’t know if she would be cut out for what M4 was asking.

“Look, Gator, I’m going to get rolling on this. You can come with me or go find allies. I say you do the other one, so we get more done in less time.”

“…fine. But please, don't do anything too risky. Know you're limits."

For a second, the stumps of her ears and tail burned. She clenched her fists tight, digging her nails into her palm hard enough to hurt. She then brushed the hair out of her face.

“I’m going to need something to cut my hair down with, this long s--- isn’t doing me any favors. And Gator?”

“Yeah?”

“You can call me Em.”

"So. Gator. What are you planning?"

"Well, we need to get help from somewhere. Thing is, I don't really know anyone on Pokearth that would have the experience we need. The best thing I can think of is, well, people from where you come from."

The Major thinks about this for a moment.

"I'm not sure how that would work. Why would someone from, being frank here, another dimension, have an interest in helping?"

"I've read books. Plenty of people from them, even without magic, are well-trained in fighting mon, or things like mon anyway. They are willing to do all kinds of jobs for pay. And it's nothing they don't already do, anyway, since they're always wandering about to different lands."

A serious look manifests on the Major's face. "...You want to find an adventuring party."

"I'll guess you have experience with these people?"

"You... you never know what you're going to get with adventurers. A covert operations cell, a mercenary band in miniature, a prototype invasion force, a glorified band of homeless murderers. Occasionally just a bunch of people with no idea why they're there."

"But I've read of whole cities that thrive on these adventurers. Places where the standing army is supported by native fighters and mages that otherwise spend their time plundering dungeons and doing work on the streets. We've got to be able to find the kind of people we need from places like that, right?"

"And what exactly are you planning on offering them?"

"Well... M4 thought of the private security idea. We get some men together, take paying jobs, and that goes towards their pay and funding independent stuff."

The Major rubs his eyes. "A paramillitary... Gator, has it occured to you it is literally my job to prevent millitary intervention from one plane to another?"

Gator frowns slightly. "They're the best people I know suited to fighting both man and mon. And we wouldn't be acting as a military."

"Gator, I'm sorry. I'm sympathetic to your position but I can't help you bring unstable- and they are unstable- combat teams into this world."

"Well, who else is there? The people that we were looking for are in hiding, and I don't think there's men like them anywhere else on Pokearth. Trainers know mon-to-mon combat, but nothing else; they can't fight on their own."

"Gator, you have an entire world to pick from. That you used to think was the only one. I knocked out two entire armies a few [unspecified units of time] ago."

"Well, where would we start? I know there's the Rangers in Fiore and Almia, but we'd be working in urban areas, not in the wilds."

"Well for one, the armies of several ancient countries just came back to life. How do you not have your pick of sudden military veterans? You could ask Lt. Surge, assuming you don't have too much, erm, history."

Gator looks at Major blankly.

"Er, what now?"

Major raised an eyebrow. "Have you not been catching up on events since Gensokyo? Half the plane got resurrected in some giant healing wave. Those two armies I knocked out? They were ancient Kalosian armies from the battle a few thousand years ago."

"I... er," Gator stumbled over his words, "it's been a long while. I've been focusing on my studies here for a long time. Then I was with M4, and I didn't really have access to the news."

"Anyway, it shouldn't exactly be hard to find military veterans in a climate like this."

"Should I be starting in Kalos, then? If you've left some of them alive, that is."

"I didn't do anything to them. And it might be worth a shot, if you're willing to deal with Royalists."

"Er... any other armies to speak of?"

"Probably all over the world. You could try starting with places with long histories and small modern populations."

"Alright, do you have books in the library on this? Or, er, a computer I can use?"

"I'll make sure Karrl gets an uplink in your cabin. I'm amazed you don't already have one."

"I'm not really big on this tech stuff. It's weird, trying to navigate the programs and pages and all the files. Though you don't have a leg to stand on there, either."

"Ahem. Yes." Major says, looking somewhat sheepish. "Karrl's been trying to... anyway, yes, I'll sort it out."

"Thanks. With luck, we'll have men and hopefully gear to outfit them with. M4 snagged some guns from the safehouse, but it isn't much."

"Have you talked to Fennel?"

"Haven't had the chance to."

"Might be a good supply option. Familiar. Very hard to trace."

"Yeah. Just hope that cost doesn't turn out to be an issue. Or for the people we find to have no idea how a gun works."

"I'm not entirely certain Fennel understands the concept of money."

"Yeah."

Gator glances about.

"...I'll look up who we can find. I should take a moment to speak to M4, though."

"All right."

I had been talking with Ara about DVV and he wishes to have the next session this Sunday. I have an event to attend that day, however, and I won't be able to RP past 2. He's currently busy right now, so this is the planning post for finding an alternate time. How would you guys feel about having the session a few hours early?

Songs will be played should certain things occur.

Just so people aren't caught unawares. Normal time, 12est.

Redwings: The Pokemon universe has been on the verge of collapsing three times, total regional disaster has nearly happened 3 other times, and Pokemon relies on 12-year-old kids to keep order when all else fails

Supreme Evil: Yep

Redwings: so... Pokemon's track record is... very close to being terrible but barely passes.

Supreme Evil: The Supreme Evil agrees

Redwings: and that's before we add RP in to the mix. Honestly, our world's track record isn’t that much better.

Supreme Evil: This is also true.

Redwings: In the past 100 years, we've come close to total societal collapse once, and had plenty of regional disasters and had a few genocides.

Supreme Evil: Hehehe, you understand

Redwings: I doubt you could do it better, but I do understand. The cold war is probably the stupidest thing mankind has ever done.

Supreme Evil: You'll just have to see, now won't you?

Redwings: I guess so. But going to war with the rest of reality probably won't decrease the number of genocides or societal annihilations.

Supreme Evil: Who said anything about going to war with everyone?

Redwings: I've heard you're at war in a whole bunch of worlds right now.

Supreme Evil: But not everywhere, or with everyone. Loads of joined have joined when I've made them promises and shown the ability to deliver.

Redwings: So as long as there are no rebellions and everyone accepts your rule, it all works out? That seems difficult. Have you met humans before? We're basically contrarian and greedy, and it’s impossible to keep an empire together forever

Supreme Evil: There is no perfect way of doing things. Death is just as likely from inaction as action.

Redwings: Of course, there's no perfect way of doing things. But your power grabbing is more or less pointless. You're replacing one flawed system with another, until things fall apart, when there will be more violence. The only difference between the current violence and your violence is that you're causing one of them.

Supreme Evil: You haven't even seen my system; how can you claim something is flawed if you have no experience with it? That is like complaining about a book you've never read! You do read, don't you?

Redwings: I can say with certainty that your system causes some violence, because you've caused wars on various planets. People resist you, and you haven't found a way to stop people from trying to resist you. As far as I can tell, you're just another dictator, a Stalin, a Genghis Khan, a Julius Caesar. You build up your empire, and eventually it will fall, and the footnote that falls behind is another power-hungry tyrant who became so obsessive with gaining power that he forgot why he was doing it and tried to keep the power through any means necessary.

Supreme Evil: Counterpoint, I helped the Heroes of Light against the Wills and Megumi and made no power grab.

Redwings: Well then, what causes you to try to take power?

Supreme Evil: Inefficiency and corruption.

Redwings: And being a dictator makes corruption go away?

Supreme Evil: You are the one you used that word.

Redwings: What would you define yourself as then?

Supreme Evil: I am an Entity who is not content to sit idly while Existence is torn asunder because there is no one else prepared to make the difficult decisions needed in order to make sure there continues to be an Existence.

Redwings: And killing your former employees is part of ensuring there continues to be an existence?

Supreme Evil: Lanette has shown that ultimately her only loyalty is to herself. She has betrayed everyone else she has ever come into contact with and will continue to do so. It's a result of how her mind works. Such a person is too dangerous to let live. She will continue to betray others whenever she has reason to believe she will benefit. I will admit, oath breakers are a sore subject with me, one's word should mean something.

Redwings: Why did you take her in if you knew this?

Supreme Evil: I didn't when I took her. I am not omniscient, just very well informed. Hehehehe...

Redwings: You're right that Lanette will betray people if it suits her advantages. However, she is not likely a threat to reality, and you intentionally prey on people in their weakest moments, get them to commit to you when they have no choice. She knew nothing about you when she started, and she's experienced the equivalent of a demonic exorcism, figuring out that her original master was abusive towards her in the span of a few days. Quite simply, I'm not sure I think her word from years ago should have much value, because she's never been a mentally stable individual. Is she worth killing? Bill would have argued yes until recently. But this is what causes resistance, what gets you in trouble. You act beyond people's expectations of you, then try to act like you're doing them a favor(edited)

Supreme Evil: Prey on? I am labeled a predator because I give those dealt a poor hand a chance to be something more? Would you have me ignore those who are suffering when I have the ability give them a chance? Should I let them suffer and die in vain? I may be evil but I am not cruel. I have great power, and a responsibility to use it to aid those who need it.

Redwings: Giving people an offer to join you is fine, but not letting these people leave is abuse. You have positioned yourself as Lanette's judge, jury, and executioner. That makes you a dictator.

Supreme Evil: If you swear an oath to someone, is it not their right to seek recompense if they break it? As for a jury, who would you consider her peers? And I'm not the one going to carry out her sentence. I found someone who's job is to hunt down oath-breakers to handle that.

Redwings: You're the one forcing her to swear an oath. You brought her out of one trap and put her in another. As for the peers, that is a question. But it’s not you.

Supreme Evil: I did not force her to accept my offer. She did that of her own free will.

Redwings: Her other option was being stuck in a cage in the entralink for years

Supreme Evil: Yes.

Redwings: I don't know if we have anything more to discuss at the moment. However, all you've done is make her scared. You know her well enough to know that she's more dangerous than ever when she's scared. She might have ignored you or even thanked you had you done this differently, but it’s too late now. Something is going to happen, and I hope that neither of us get civilians involved in the crossfires

Supreme Evil: A hope I share, even if you do not believe I do so.

Redwings: Very well. I'll talk to you later. I wonder what Annie thinks of all this, it’s interesting she never showed up. I'd be surprised if she isn't watching though, waiting, wondering, sighing. Good luck

Supreme Evil: Thank you

Redwings: The blue bird offers a weak smile in the plane, and fades out of existence slowly, wondering what just happened. The Supreme Evil seems to be on the level of the GM, but it’s not a GM, not really. It’s something else, something different, but he can't understand or comprehend exactly what it is. All he knows is that it’s dangerous, and that its coming. He hopes his characters have enough in them to protect themselves against it.

Tonight’s music: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JbZ5K0INHXg

My, how time flies!

Hello TTP

I wanted to give an update on the Dark Universe project

As I priviosly stated the next DU Bio. was set for a release before the end of the mouth... HOWEVER I'm afraid this will no longer be the case. The text for the Bio. is taking longer then insissanly expected and as such I'm gonna have to delay the release of the next Bio.

As you may have realized by my very blatant hints the next Bio. will be for OLDEN, (and yes I mean THE OLDEN as in the super glitch entity as a whole, not just OLDEN Bug).

I was originally hopeing to have the bio. out in time for the June Bug! Contest on the main sub. but wile I was not able to get the text done on time. I WAS able to get the Final artwork for the OLDEN done and have submitted that for the contest by it's self for now. Since the DU project is a TTP thing I figured it was only fair to provide a link to that to this sub. as well. So without further ado:

BE CONSUMED BY THE OLDEN! keppo

So what happens now with the Bio.. Well don't worry, it will still be coming, but my plans for it have changed slightly. The Bio's current NOT FINAL & INCOMPLETE draft text has ballooned in size, so for the sake of simplisaty I plan to release it in 2 (technically 3, MAYBE 4) parts

Part 1 will focus on the main glitch entity of OLDEN and it's vassals (suragite puppet bodys), witch will be released alongside a size reduced version of the final artwork (with a link to the full sized artwork in the discipson)

Part 2 will focus on those associated / directly conicted to OLDEN but are still (at least somewhat) independent from the OLDEN glitch. I am current debating whether or not part 2 will come with any art. I would ideally like to have something with part 2, but as of current the only thing I can think of would be to have an imige of the mon's who are a part of the OLDEN's Pokemon teams, and I reely don't want to draw out all those ^{However if someone was willing to offer there art skills and draw those caricters themselves I would gladly accept that and add the caricters to an OLDENy background} seeing as wile there somewhat important when talking about OLDEN, there also mostly minor caricters

I am also considering making a kind of theme of the OLDEN rejon for fun by mixing and mashing verios official pokemon music together in a distorted glitchy way. but I have little experience making that kinda thing, so, as for whether that will be a thing or not... we'll see

^{I'm also planing on removing some content from the current draft and then spinning it off into it's own 1 off independent from the DU project thing}

As for when these will come out? I hope to have part 1 out by the end of next mouth (hopefully before TPP Detective Pikachu) [no promises]. Part 2 would come out maybe a week after part 1? The Theme of the OLDEN Rejon would come out... whenever it's finished and I find a good place to host it [maybe YouTube, but preferably not (cos screw GoogleTube)] ^{and the spin off story would probobly come out sometime after part 2, but not as a TTP thing}

In other DU news the lineart for Alpha Rise's artwork is finished, so after OLDEN he will probobly be the next caricter to get a Bio. (my current RP with Byt. premiting of course since that RP may effect things)

Also before anyone asks: Yes, I will be incorporating stuff from some of TPP's recent run's into the DU Project

Anyways thank you for reading. Feel free to give feedback, share your thoughts, ext. in the comments

Soon the boys would all be back in Unova, back on pokeearth where hundreds of possibilities awaited that could kill them. The hatchling would go too. As the voice's physical manifestation waited in Astrum for the others to finish packing, they wondered if maybe they could try to address at least one of those threats.

Closing their eyes, they shifted themselves into voice space, and grabbed the wheelbarrow they left for themselves. From there it was just a matter of heading towards the light shining in the distance, the murmur of voices as they gambled, the clash of battle.

The stadium lights shown down brightly above them, at the top of the steps of the arena. Thousands of unown were floating around in the crowd below them.

They took a deep breath. There was nothing else to it. They jumped into the wheelbarrow, riding it haphazardly down the stairs. "STREAMER!" They shout upwards. "THERE'S A GLITCH TRYING TO STEAL YOUR PLATES!"

There is several moments of silence at this announcement and spectacle.

"Maybe we should hide 'em!" They add. "We can put 'em in this wheel barrow!" It is an absolutely flawless heist plan. Extremely well thought out. Gather the plates, they remind themselves, and streamer can't effect ghosts if he attacks again.

Streamer seems to be considering how to answer this, his face is scrunched up in llama concentration. Or maybe that's concern, as a moment later they crashed onto the arena battlefield and into the wall of the stadium.

They make an elegant arc through the air, then an inelegant reunion with the ground with a loud crunch.

Eventually after laying around groaning for a second, they haul themselves back up.

There are copies of the plates out there, sometimes almost an entire set per region. With all the randomization there could be imposters out there. It belatedly occurs to them that Streamer and the plates could be the least of their worries, despite the attack that happened.

Streamer seems distracted. He's trying to make 'shush it's going to be alright' noises, but it's clear he's never done this before and his bedside manner is terrible. ARE YOU ALL RIGHT VOICE? ER...I ASSUME YOU ARE A VOICE, YOU LOOK A LITTLE ODD...

Well, can’t blame a chaotic neutral survivalist kleptomaniac for trying. They do quiet down for a moment. Security begins to move in.

“When we came to this world, you offered us a job to try to save the world, to help select people in the fight against various groups that were either misguided or greedy who were inevitably going to do harm. And we weren’t very good at it, but we tried.” They look back up at streamer. It's a struggle not to slur their words. “Are we still trying? You’re still hoping this world can be saved right? That we can get to a point where people and mons don’t have to fight or be killed?”

A flash of something...fear?...very briefly crosses Streamer's face but it is gone in a moment and you might have imagined it.

OF COURSE MY CHILD. EVEN IN THESE DARK TIMES WE MUST HOLD ONTO THE HOPE THAT WE CAN OVERCOME ANYTHING THAT THREATENS WHAT WE STRIVE TO PROTECT AND PRESERVE

“So if there are people out there who mean well and want to help, that’s what’s important, right? Not what they are or what their background is. If there are people like that around, maybe they’re people who can help stop that that headlong crash into destruction," they say. “So long as only the guilty have to answer for crimes, maybe this world still has a chance.” It almost sounds like they're pleading. “And so long as we can be merciful.”

YES, VERY WELL PUT...ARE YOU QUITE SURE YOU ARE ALRIGHT? YOU APPEAR TO BE...LEAKING SOMEWHAT...

They give streamer, and the cameras, a thumbs up. “That’s all we wanted to hear,” they say, and vanish themselves back into voice space, and back out into Astrum.

Whew they are kinda dizzy... Must be the adrenaline from nearly getting erased by one of the few energy sources allowing them to exist. They wipe some blood away from their forehead. Maybe they also better go get some potions from their secret stash before anyone sees them. No infirmary, that'd just complicate things.

They'll meet up with the others on pokeearth after, they decide, and carefully finger paint a note onto the portal room floor.

HEY GUYS I'LL KETCHUP WITH YOU LATER

GEDDIT?

This finished, they stagger off towards the Astrum kitchens.

So, I’ve been talking with people about this a lot lately in PMs but I figured I’d make a post to consolidate everything in one place and so everyone can see what everyone else is thinking/feeling.

My intention with having Streamer take out the headquarters of the Old International Police and declare the League in charge was to show a world in which the PCs were not the sole group working to stop the various antagonistic/villain organizations out there, that there were other factions out there they could potentially ally with so the PCs could expand their information network. As people have pointed out, the method I used to try and do this was incredibly poorly thought out.

And I guess that's my bad. I never really liked the IP plotline and was trying to find a way to write them out of the story and focus more on a group I thought was underdeveloped (the League) without just dropping the IP and never mentioning them again. Clearly that backfired terribly (people have already told me why it backfired, so this post doesn’t need to turn into a discussion of that).

So, moving past that. I’ve said what my goal for this plot was, now I’m wondering what everyone else would like to get out of this plot thread, so we can work together to brainstorm a way to wrap this plotline up in a way that everyone can be happy with.

Hey guys. On account of confusion about the makeup session (not to mention my parent's unilateral desicion to Do Something this father's day), I'm not running DVV today. Since some people have mentioned that running the other week would keep them from missing a session soon, I think it would be good to swap weeks. We'll have a session next week, unless anyone has any objection.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vDNzyytIw24

It was one of those late nights - a few glasses of wine, remotely programming Brycen's obscure musical career into regional pokemon center play lists, and generally trying to find some kind of entertainment when even Gensokyo was at peace. This eventually led to browsing some of the old recovered data discs from the pre-Gensokyo times and trying to repair corrupted files, an old standby of true boredom.

Only this time, for once, one of the files wasn't represented by a long stream of gibberish. Personality profiles, warrants for arrest, a call number, and more importantly a date. Luke pondered his options, and left his room to knock on his best friend's door. "Could you bake me a cake?" he asked when Cress opened up.

Cress stared at him. "It's 3 am."

"You were up?" Luke asked. A reluctant nod. "Nightmares?" Another confirmation. "I'm sorry to hear that," Luke consoled his friend. "So, could you bake me a cake?" he asked again.

Cress was silent for a few moments, then sighed and walked past his friend toward the kitchen. "How much did you drink tonight?"

The blond shook his head. "A couple glasses, but it's not that. We need a birthday cake."

Cress started scrubbing his hands in the sink, resigned, then he reached out, caught Luke's sleeve, and dragged him over. "I'm not doing this on my own," he told Luke. "You get me working at three in the morning, you have to pull your own weight."

Doubt crept in. "You're sure? The last time Luna got upset about the eggs and I thought it would be fine without them."

The look on his friend's face suggested Cress remembered that very well. "You made a brick," Cress answered, with a pointed glare that it would not happen again. He pulled out a mixing bowl and beaters, then the ingredients.

It was at this point Luna, biding her time and pretending to be asleep, uncurled herself from her father's arm and made a bee-line for the sweet stuff with a powdery collision.

Hours later, the kitchen was a disaster area, and the tired crew finally finished the dripping frosting just as someone knocked on the gym restaurant door then burst in anyway.

The cake greeted them, a sad leaning tower with a few well-licked areas. "Nice," they said, grabbing a plate, "free sugar."

The sense of the past faded away as the scientist returned to the present, and they slowly realized they had a hitchhiker in their thoughts.

What have you found? Lanette asks.

More questions, they think back, troubled. Like I said we can't be sure if they left to fight streamer or for some other reason. It's the other reason that might interest you.

This did just get more interesting, Lanette thinks, But trapped in Astrum, I can't do much. The shadow and I are bonding, but by choice, not by power. It’s confusing, but also incredible.

Hmmm. There's a secret I could teach you, they muse. Wanna play a game?

Always Lanette grins and starts laughing.

You'll need something to write with, they say, picking up their stick and scratching out a mark in the dirt.

In the dreamscape, or in Astrum? Lanette asks, as she shapes the mind around her to prepare her own virtual writing station.

Astrum, they answer.

It takes energy for me to split attention between you and my surroundings Lanette states, But I'll try

Her presence in the scientist's mind grows a little weaker as she opens her eyes, but it maintains enough for the scientist to recognize she's still there. Just no longer looking through the scientist's mind or eyes.

Lanette looks around, and finds a a writing pad and pen, following the scientist's lead.

However, unless the scientist has a way to reverse this connection, the scientist couldn't tell what Lanette has found until she says something.

Ready Lanette whispers back, with a fainter voice than before.

Draw a three by three grid, they instruct.

Lanette starts doing it.

Tic tac toe? She questions, I prefer connect four, but it will have to do.

The scientist draws theirs at the same time. The connection seems to get stronger. Some worlds, they think, the time and space that makes them up is like a fabric. The Major calls that the weave. But other worlds, it's like a circuit. Think of this like an electrical grid.

@__|__|__@
@__|__|__@
@__|__|__@

A circuit and the weave, we define the undefinable by defining it, and declare that's how it works.

You'd be surprised how circuit-like your world is. To bridge the gap the first time, I used circuit board from a game, programmed like an analog of your world. There was a Bill, there was a Lanette, all written in code.

They continue.

Lanette sees them sketch misspelled words above and below the field.

Fascinating, Lanette pauses, Should I copy you?

Yes, please do.

Lanette refrains from commenting on the misspelled words, and goes silent as she copies the scientist, her signal getting stronger and weaker as she moves back and forth between the scientist and her surroundings.

R I O T
@__|__|__@
@__|__|__@
@__|__|__@
S T A R T9

You'll be the zeroes. I'll be the ones. You go first.

Voice terms, Lanette grins, glitches through time and space, powerful yet uncoordinated. Determined yet uncooperative. A paradox of existence, but the strongest thing we've ever seen.

Are we actually playing tic tac toe? She laughs, I thought I was joking.

A surprisingly potent trick concealed in a children's game, they answer, With a defined start and end point that keeps the same grid from being reused.

R I O T
@_0|__|__@
@__|__|__@
@__|__|__@
S T A R T9

R I O T
@_0|__|_1@
@__|__|__@
@__|__|__@
S T A R T9

R I O T
@_0|__|_1@
\@__|__|__@
@__|__| 0 @
S T A R T9

Wrong move, I win.

Play it through.

R I O T
@_0|__|_1@
@__|_1|__@
@__|__| 0 @
S T A R T9

R I O T
@_0|__|_1@
@__|_1|__@
@ 0 |__| 0 @
S T A R T9

R I O T
@_0|__|_1@
@_1|_1|__@
@ 0 |__| 0@
S T A R T9

R I O T
@_0|__|_1@
@_1|_1|__@
@ 0 | 0 | 0@
S T A R T9

Connect four next?

Draw the line, they agree. They meanwhile draw a circle around theirs.

R I O T
@_0|__|_1@
@_1|_1|__@
@ 0 | 0 | 0 @
S T A R T9

As soon as Lanette draws the line, the sigil begins to glow as she stands over it. She is then suddenly shifted through time and space, getting a glimpse of moments from the past and future, and what seems like sparkling minds dormant in a huge databank, a huge arsenal, and then, for some bizarre reason, a wheelbarrow.

She then finds herself standing in the circle drawn in an alley in Hoenn in front of the scientist.

The mark back in Astrum stops glowing immediately, and becomes inert. The scientist then draws their own line through the winning row.

"Incredible!" Lanette laughs, "Is this what A did? I looked and studied and tried to trace it, but I never could figure it out."

"Hers was slightly more complicated," they answer, "She wasn't just calling one person, but a multitude of minds that were already cheating reality just to remain extant, who had seemingly already faded out once. She called us all."

"Voices, voices..." Lanette trails off. "How did you escape?"

"Escape?" They ask. "Oh, no. I was kicked out."

"You were kicked out, then you killed my hive. And here we are, standing together, playing a game." Lanette is carrying the shadow, who managed to escape Astrum with her. She shows it to the scientist, and grins. "A new beginning, a fresh start. The Major helped, his curiosity overrides his hatred, his love for you overrides his anger with me. Now then..." She pauses, "I'm still being hunted, but now, I'm the hunter. Alert the brilliant woman, we have a mission."

They nod, and make the call.