Re: [RP][All Inclusive]Perfectworld Phase One
The two huggers turned their heads the moment Aarilyn spoke out to them. They seemed a bit surprised at the interruption—or so the Dewott guessed—but after a quiet exchange the super-thin creature turned and replied, “Nah, we’re not the locals, and apparently neither are you.”
The Pokémon scowled distastefully. “’Course not. Why would I want to live in such a…”
She let her words trail off as the couple were distracted by a commotion elsewhere in the abandoned village. Other people had materialized from the forest, and some of them apparently weren’t getting along. Aarilyn considered them a moment, then blew them off as morons. Whatever. These people obviously weren’t going to help her at all.
Before she could turn to leave, however, a raucous rasp split the air—the harsh sound of metal scraping against metal. Ears flat against her head, Aarilyn sharply glanced up to the source and found a silver-haired woman she had not noticed before standing on the roof of one of the houses.
“Welcome,” her voice carried through the air with grace, “and please, save your questions.”
Aarilyn grudgingly gave the human her attention, but only because she spoke with authority. Whoever this chick was, she apparently knew something about the simultaneous appearance of several stragglers in a seemingly abandoned village stuck in the middle of nowhere. Still, she couldn’t help but balk at the woman’s audacity as she continued on to some long speech that made no sense to the Dewott whatsoever.
Soar? World Zero? Something about punctuality Nazis? What was all that about? But more importantly, what did Aarilyn have to do with all this? A frown was firmly planted on the Dewott’s face the longer she listened.
Finally, this mystery person used her sword to carve out two portals in the air. Aarilyn was surprised by the sudden display of power, but some corner of her brain was trying to process out a way that such a feat was possible. Were the swords she used actually some kind of device that manipulated space? Such a thing seemed far-fetched, but for some reason Aarilyn didn’t completely throw it out as an outlandish idea. For all she knew, it could be possible. At any rate, the mystery gal explained where each portal went, and challenged the others to pick one.
Aarilyn took it all in with a grain of salt. It sounded ridiculous to her, and she failed to see why she should care. She looked at the portals doubtfully, wondering if she could chose neither one. Who said she wanted to get involved with any of this? Factions were for pot-headed cretins. They could go ahead and play their little games for all she cared—just leave her out of it.
“Step up and choose,” the silver-haired human finished, flashing her sword around like a true show-off. “Keep in mind that Soar has the technology to help you remember your past.”
That derailed Aarilyn’s thought train. They could do what? Why those dirty… So they did know something about her missing memory! The Dewott’s paws twitched towards her weapons as she contemplated confronting the stranger with a more aggressive approach. Still, even she knew that this wasn’t the moment to be rash. Apparently, there was more going on than she could understand. As much as she hated to admit it, she might actually need their help. Whoever these SOAR people were…
She hated not being able to remember anything, and if there was a chance she could get it restored… Well, she might just have to take it.
…Then again, what if this woman was just fibbing to get them on her side? What proof did she have?
As if hearing her thoughts, the woman turned and tossed a sphere into their midst. Aarilyn jumped back in surprised, eyeing the device suspiciously.
“That thing will restore a little bitty part of your memories,” the woman explained. “That is, if you lost any memories at all. I have more, if you can earn them.”
Aarilyn shot a glare back towards the woman, but… she was gone. Only the portals hinted that she had been there at all. Now, it was just her and the group of complete misfits.
“Didn’t leave us much of a choice, did she?” the Dewott muttered mostly to herself. Her gaze returned to the metal device. Could it really do what the woman said it would? What if it was a trap? It looked a lot like a bomb or a grenade to her…. But what did she have to lose? Without her memories, she felt like she had no true identity. Guess there was only one way to find out, the Dewott thought glumly to herself before reaching up and scooping up the object.
She turned it over in her paws, examining it closely. For a few seconds, nothing happened.
“Well, this is dumb,” the Pokémon growled. She was about to toss it when…
<ERROR CODE: 549978.09.5>
>SEARCHING MEMORY BANKS….
>FILE FOUND: XD___SPECIES_DELTA_EXE
“Specimen XD4002... Ah, I see you are finally awake,” a flimsy human examined her from behind a set of thick lenses. He cradled a clipboard in one arm, while the other was busily scratching down notes with the other. Like all other humans she had encountered thus far, he wore the blindingly white lab-coat of a scientist.
She glanced up at him, disappointed. “XD4002? What kind of name is that?”
“Fascinating! You are responding!” he ignored her comment and scratched his notes with more enthusiasm.
“… Yeah, but obviously you’re not. Seriously, what is this? Who are you? What am I doing here?”
“How exciting! The high-ups will be ecstatic to know that the program operates with amazing efficiency. Just look at how quickly you have mastered the language!”
She scowled in frustration. Was this guy for real? “Hey, you. Yeah, you. LISTEN ALREADY! I demand to know the meaning of all this!”
“Subject is showing slight aggression… This could be a negative side-effect…”
“KNOCK IT OFF ALREADY!”
“Hubert,” a soothing, feminine voice broke through the tension, directing its focus to the nerdy scientist. “Try to show some decorum; she is a person, you know.”
Hubert’s shoulders drooped at the reprimand. “My apologies, Dr. Rowland... I’m just… so excited!”
XD4002 sharply whirled about to face the voice’s owner, nearly knocking over the equipment she was attached to. She barely caught a glimpse of a tall, dark-haired woman before—
<ERROR CODE: 999990.3442.78>
The sphere rolled out of Aarilyn’s hands and dropped to the ground morosely. The Dewott slowly returned to herself, but brought with her a storm of befuddling emotions. She was hurt. She was distressed. She was absolutely angry. But… for some reason, she was mostly sad…
She couldn’t understand any of it.
With paws clenched in fists of frustration, Aarilyn abruptly turned towards the portals. How dare she! That silver-haired woman, taunting them by dangling this single piece of memory before them. That was her little ploy, wasn’t it? Lure them all in with promises she probably wouldn’t keep until she sucked them all dry of all their energies, using them as pawns for her little game of factions and destruction.
If there was anything that Aarilyn could clearly remember now, it was this: she did not trust humans. Not. At. All. And that mistrust was lingering on the edge of utter hatred.
Only one thing held her back from that bitter precipice, but what it was… she couldn’t remember.
She knew what her choice was, even though she didn’t like it. She stormed towards SOAR’s portal, knowing that that was the only path where she would find answers… even if it meant playing into the human’s hands. She had to know who she was… what that laboratory was…
Who Dr. Rowland was…
Windflower calmly slowly turned her beaked face towards the speaker, seemingly unaffected by the new-comer’s harsh tone. The speaker was a creature not unlike herself; however, she seemed to be a different type of Calatuwa, one who had not embraced the Spirit of the Sky. Her arms had been formed into long, sharp blades shinier then any Windflower could recall being crafted by her own people.
“Tell me,” the strange Calatuwa demanded from her, “where am I? And don’t you dare try any funny stuff… Or I’ll gut you like a fish and string you up to dry! My patience is short, and I’m tired of walking!”
Windflower blinked, considering this stranger for a moment. Her manner of speech was very… peculiar. The Braviary Calatuwa was considering a reply when someone else joined them: a very normal looking human. Windflower knew there was a name for his kind—those who did not embrace the Spirits—but she could not quite recall the actual name. At any rate, he suddenly appeared next to them brandishing a knife just as shiny and sharp as the strange Calatuwa’s arms.
“I don’t know who or what you are, and I frankly don’t care. If you want to pick a fight with someone, try me.”
And soon after another face appeared on the scene—this time, another earth-bound Calatuwa of very different sorts. He let out an unnerving chuckle as he put his bit in:
“Do you really intend to fight her off with that little knife? You don’t stand a chance, no matter how skilled or unskilled she may be. I suppose I could get some amusement out of your blood being spilled, but people are no fun to talk to when they’re dead.”
Things were clearly getting out of hand, and Windflower knew she had to step in.
“Peace,” she stepped forward, reaching her arms out in a gesture of amity (mostly to get between the knife-wielder and the sword-arm Calatuwa). “There is no need for bloodshed, for it seems that we are all strangers to this land.” Turning to the sword-arm Calatuwa, she added, “I wish that I could answer your questions, sharp-one, but I, like you, have little familiarity with this land.”
Someone shouted something from the main plaza of the village—one of the first people who had arrived—and though her language was puzzling to Windflower, she guessed that she too was looking to end the conflict. The Braviary morph was glad to have support, but before much else could be said, someone caught their attentions.
A silver-haired woman—one who had not embraced the Spirits—was atop one of the buildings, and immediately began to address them. Windflower listened politely, though she was confused by many of the things the woman said. Still, the woman must have been a shaman—for she made strange, glowing circles materialize out of the air. Windflower was startled by this display of magic, but she felt more respect for the woman.
And apparently, the woman could help them get their memories back. When the sword-bearer left, Windflower paused a moment to consider her options. The wisest path seemed to follow SOAR—seeing as there was no one to represent this Gameover tribe. From the sounds of it, however, the opposing tribe sounded violent and destructive—certainly not the sort Windflower wanted to associate with. No, she would stick with SOAR, and perhaps she would learn more about this confusing circumstance from the shaman.
When others began approaching the brighter portal, Windflower detached herself from the others and began following them. She only stopped to consider the sphere that the otter-creature had left behind. Curious, the Braviary morph bent over and timidly traced a finger over its smooth surface…
“I am proud of you, my daughter,” the chief said to her, his wrinkled eyes smiling at her. “Today, you have come of age, and you have gained your place among our people. You are a true Calatuwa warrior now.”
He clasped her shoulders in an outward show of his affection, while she smiled back at him with a proud tilt to her chin.
In a gentler voice, he continued, “I feel greatly comforted in knowing that one day, you shall take my place as a righteous chieftain of our tribe. The Mother Spirit must surely have graced you with her blessings, and our future is bright.”
“Your words mean much to me, Father,” she beamed up at him, even as her eyes welled up with grateful tears…
Yes, Windflower thought to herself as she returned to reality. This is the right choice. Then, she stepped into the magic window of light.
OCC: Long post is longer :P