Saint
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Weekend Warrior
Round 2
Posts: 386
Trainer Class:
Player Name: Angelo Alvarez
OOC Username: Sleepy
Arena Points: 10
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Post by Saint on Oct 31, 2023 9:21:08 GMT 9
#s://cdn~discordapp~com/attachments/1107895957519081622/1145884362253021254/200_casual~png Stupid, stupid, stupid!
Angelo’s squeaking Popplio shoes came to a screeching halt at the threshold to Codie’s Arcade – just there, because already a massive line had formed with a crowd scrambling to complete their collections before the end of the event. People could barely leave the escalators!
Angelo rubbed his face with his hands, trying not to blow a gasket. He should’ve picked the PLAYER stamp sooner. He’d been here everyday, but to be fair the past few days had been – a lot. Both good and bad types of a lot. He’s managed to embarrass himself in so many ways it could form its own Youtube compilation. He was cringefail incarnate.
But he couldn’t regret attending. Not when that compilation also included meeting friends he wouldn’t have traded for the world and participating in the event of his wildest dreams.
So maybe less of a fails compilation and more like a therapy topics lootbox.
He’s caught between trying to act normal (looking as if he’d crawled out of bed and ran through a 7-Eleven and the merch alley, which he did since his stuff was held hostage) and debating the logistics of starting anew in San Francisco when he’s jumped by a game of twenty questions.
“I, uh— yes?” he sputtered, blindsided by the sentient ray of sunshine as a man still processing the trauma of waking up. He tried to talk again, but his dialogue was cut into by a character with presence.
After recovering from the psychic damage of answering someone who wasn’t calling to you, Angelo averted his eyes, not wanting to butt in, but unable to help listening. The girl was eloquent; Angelo hadn’t anticipated a moral quandary over quails today, but he had it now, and he didn’t know what to do with it except stare, bewildered, as if into the futility of life itself.
“… I liked the one where we made sandwiches?” His voice eventually pushed out. “It’s, I know Starry Sub is a sequel but I wasn’t around during the first run, so it was basically its own original thing for me. It was simple, but relaxing, and we had creative freedom with the recipe. I had a lot of fun.” Kind of a lame answer after all that. “I guess it depends on the player.”
He blinked at the blonde boy. “And my favorite is Popplio. That’s what you asked after the arcade question, right? Sorry, you kind of lost me near the end.”
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Saint
•
Weekend Warrior
Round 2
Posts: 386
Trainer Class:
Player Name: Angelo Alvarez
OOC Username: Sleepy
Arena Points: 10
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Post by Saint on Oct 31, 2023 9:19:39 GMT 9
#s://cdn~discordapp~com/attachments/1107895957519081622/1145884362253021254/200_casual~png The Artist Corner was an elaborate trap and he was a helpless fly in its maw. But he would not fall victim to its wiles (again). Today he had an objective: obtain the PAINTER stamp from the kiosk and make a break for it before any crane games snatched his wallet.
But he found himself here now, standing by a booth. His eyes were caught on the collage posted outside, a conga line of meticulously-applied ink on skin.
He rolled his lips inward, some voice in the back of his said (sounding suspiciously like his mother) saying a very stern NO.
He moved to turn, and the voice shifted, sounding younger, male, and mocking.
Course you wouldn’t, you fucking chicken.
And he made a swift ball-jointed pivot, heading straight in and asking the artist in charge:
“Could I get a tattoo?”
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Saint
•
Weekend Warrior
Round 2
Posts: 386
Trainer Class:
Player Name: Angelo Alvarez
OOC Username: Sleepy
Arena Points: 10
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Post by Saint on Oct 25, 2023 16:07:19 GMT 9
The sight of tears alarms him. The guilt is instantaneous and crushing; he regrets asking the question, and finds himself scrambling to fix it.
His body falls back on muscle memory. He’s back home, pulling one of his siblings into his arms. It isn’t a tight hold: he has always left enough room for them to push him away; has never desired to trap them in his endeavor to comfort them. Every single one has different needs.
He’s glad to have chosen a jacket so thick. It bundles Silvermoon, offers a modicum of comfortable distance between two strangers. “It’s okay,” he hums, his hand patting their back gently. “It’s okay. You aren’t a bad or lesser person for wanting to help. This is not your fault, Silvermoon.”
He pulls back, adjusting the collar of the jacket so it doesn’t slip, tucking it around Silvermoon’s neck. “Sometimes bad things just happen to good people. That doesn’t make them any less good.” He raises a brow. “And really, who could’ve guessed they’d go so far in a Pokémon game?”
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Saint
•
Weekend Warrior
Round 2
Posts: 386
Trainer Class:
Player Name: Angelo Alvarez
OOC Username: Sleepy
Arena Points: 10
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Post by Saint on Oct 17, 2023 0:28:18 GMT 9
#s://cdn~discordapp~com/attachments/1107895957519081622/1145884362253021254/200_casual~png Angelo’s shoulders slumped. Kasey’s kindness was a balm, healing—but it stung on fresh wounds. It felt undeserved. “Sure. Let’s walk then,” he said, eyes averted.
The Marriott was not at all that far, but they walked slowly under the evening, the Grand Plaza still well-lit even after most of the food trucks had closed, people spread out thinly and filling the place with idle chatter.
“Did you like the panel?” Angelo finally piped up. He still couldn't bring up the argument on his own, and without the con to distract them, it really was just the two of them now. Asking about their day was safe. He hadn’t been able to join them near the end since he wanted to get to his room early—great decision that was—but it would be nice to hear about it from them. He liked listening to Kasey.
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Saint
•
Weekend Warrior
Round 2
Posts: 386
Trainer Class:
Player Name: Angelo Alvarez
OOC Username: Sleepy
Arena Points: 10
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Post by Saint on Oct 14, 2023 19:45:49 GMT 9
#s://cdn~discordapp~com/attachments/1107895957519081622/1145884362253021254/200_casual~png Angelo had nearly choked on a bagel when something burst through the wall. The announcement cut through the air, a new event—and a live one! The model for C0D13_2 was ginormous, with the same quirky personality he recognized to be Hydance’s bread and butter.
“Mrph!” he said, as the other participants took out their phones and began to battle. Part of the appeal of this venue had been the AR glasses—seeing everyone’s fancy avatars just walking around, playing games and eating bagels. And now he was able to see them in action!
A barrage of attacks were sent careening at the boss, people taking turns as the typing switched with every attack. The noise in the plaza quadrupled, people calling out types and stamps to keep the barrage ongoing.
Angelo had been seated at a picnic table nearby when he saw a guy with an impressive array of tattoos (ozone) launch the most recent attack, the type on COD13_2 switching to Fighting.
He quickly sifted through the stamps he had on his phone — the newly-acquired bagel-earned FREEZER stamp flipping over to the DREAMER stamp he obtained at the hotel. “Mmph!” Still with a face full of bagel, Angelo pointed his phone, slamming the button repeatedly and tossing blast after blast of psychic energy at the target.
{Damage Roll}AOTE0CIF2d100 +10 (Interact with Previous Post) +20 (Supereffective) Damage Dealt: 166 Attack type used: C0D13_2 HP: 8,654/10,000 2d100
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Saint
•
Weekend Warrior
Round 2
Posts: 386
Trainer Class:
Player Name: Angelo Alvarez
OOC Username: Sleepy
Arena Points: 10
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Post by Saint on Oct 14, 2023 15:17:47 GMT 9
#s://cdn~discordapp~com/attachments/1107895957519081622/1145884362253021254/200_casual~png It was an emergency, but for once, Angelo did not have a plan. There was nothing at all in his head as he rode the elevator down, as he passed by droves of chatting guests, as he walked out of the entrance and away from the Hilton’s blinding lights. He wanted nothing at all, except some air, and to be alone.
He paused, hearing his name. Upon seeing Kasey heading towards him, some feeling returned, and he quickly rubbed his eyes on the back of his hand. To his relief, it was dry.
“Ah, yeah, I’m just– got into an argument, with Finn– it’s stupid.” He waved, fixed his glasses, and put on a smile. “Hi, Kasey.”
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Saint
•
Weekend Warrior
Round 2
Posts: 386
Trainer Class:
Player Name: Angelo Alvarez
OOC Username: Sleepy
Arena Points: 10
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Post by Saint on Oct 14, 2023 14:54:56 GMT 9
#s://cdn~discordapp~com/attachments/1107895957519081622/1145884362253021254/200_casual~png By comparison, Angelo was already losing it.
“I know you’re still there!” BANG. “Open the fucking door!” BANG.
Pain was pulsing from the side of his hand, but Angelo couldn’t care. There was a vice around his skull, an inward pressure that seemed to be sucking him in, folding him into two. “What is wrong with you?” He wanted to yell, to scream, but doing so would only get him in trouble with the staff and guests. “I’ve dealt with your bullshit for months, I’ve cared for you like a fucking babysitter, and now you’re kicking me out in another state?!”
The thing that pissed him off the most was how it felt like he was going to cry. It was so stupid. It was one night on his own, but it felt like all the pressure on his shoulders was crashing down. Everything he was doing to keep up appearances, and he still ended up on the streets anyways.
“Fuck you, Finn.” He slammed his foot against the door, and that was enough to finally get someone from the neighboring room to emerge, their brows scrunched with irritation at all the racket—but when they looked around, the hallway was already empty. Angelo had left.
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Saint
•
Weekend Warrior
Round 2
Posts: 386
Trainer Class:
Player Name: Angelo Alvarez
OOC Username: Sleepy
Arena Points: 10
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Post by Saint on Oct 14, 2023 14:03:13 GMT 9
#s://cdn~discordapp~com/attachments/1107895957519081622/1145884362253021254/200_casual~png The door opened, and for a second, Angelo thought the guy bought it.
Rather than the comfort of his bed, he was then treated to Finn Fun Facts™ he truly did not ask for. He was completely silent, stumped less by the realization of Finn’s bisexuality as he was learning that he slept with the lacrosse team. Or people who drank La Croix. Whichever the guy had said.
It’s all punctuated with a backhanded smile, a polite ‘get fucked’, and the door being shut in his face.
“You—what the hell!” The door came alive with his fists. “Finn, I don’t care about your lacrosse fetish, open the door! My stuff is in there!”
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Saint
•
Weekend Warrior
Round 2
Posts: 386
Trainer Class:
Player Name: Angelo Alvarez
OOC Username: Sleepy
Arena Points: 10
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Post by Saint on Oct 14, 2023 13:40:29 GMT 9
#s://cdn~discordapp~com/attachments/1107895957519081622/1145884362253021254/200_casual~png Christ alive. Angelo pinched the bridge of his nose, resisting the list of unsavory things he wanted to call him.
“They aren’t my girlfriend, Finn. They aren’t even a girl.” The door was heavy, but he could’ve sworn something was leaning on it. Finn probably was, spamming the shit out of his Instagram. He didn't have to check his phone to know.
Angelo had taken a risk not returning immediately to their hotel room, and he had lost the dice toss.
“This is because of earlier, isn’t it.” It wasn’t a question. Angelo chewed on the inside of his cheek. “I shouldn’t have lied.” That was, in all honesty, the only thing he regretted from his batshit dialogue. He was still seething with anger at the reminder of what the man had done to his friend.
He cleared his throat. “I don’t know anything about your dating history, so I shouldn’t have labelled you as something you weren’t. I apologize for that.”
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Saint
•
Weekend Warrior
Round 2
Posts: 386
Trainer Class:
Player Name: Angelo Alvarez
OOC Username: Sleepy
Arena Points: 10
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Post by Saint on Oct 14, 2023 13:24:20 GMT 9
#s://cdn~discordapp~com/attachments/1107895957519081622/1145884362253021254/200_casual~png It was the end of the first day. What had started off as an anxiety-filled disaster had quickly tapered off into a fun and mostly peaceful experience, Angelo having spent it either exploring with Silvermoon or on his own. There was plenty to do—almost too much, really, that by the time he noticed, the sun had set.
He returned to the Hilton, early enough that most of the crowd had filtered off for dinner or were still at the venue until closing. His steps were heavy, the urge to take a shower and slip into the covers quite strong, but he did stop by the front desk to pick up a DREAMER stamp on the way to the elevators.
He had a distinct feeling he was forgetting something.
Click. Angelo blinked. He swiped the key card again, but the door remained shut, and the nagging feeling began seeping into his gut.
“… Finn?” Another clunking sound and a curse under his breath. “Finn, open the door!”
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Saint
•
Weekend Warrior
Round 2
Posts: 386
Trainer Class:
Player Name: Angelo Alvarez
OOC Username: Sleepy
Arena Points: 10
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Post by Saint on Oct 11, 2023 7:41:29 GMT 9
#s://cdn~discordapp~com/attachments/1107895957519081622/1145884362253021254/200_casual~png Angelo hadn’t expected much that day. He finished a round at the arcade, witnessed the demos he’d been interested in (the WorldScreen Lite looked extremely promising, and he may have gone a bit overboard with the questions), and now he was taking a break at the Dream Kingdom Lounge with Silvermoon, viewing his new GARDENER stamp on his phone.
Someone approached. The stranger had in him a grace that rang familiar and a face that should put Angelo at ease, but only made him more aware of himself. Angelo sat straighter and stopped fiddling with his phone, regarding the gentle smile with a polite nod and a wary stare.
“You’re… Lacrimosa?” The name slotted the pieces together, two similar pictures joining into one. The reminder of Mistra should horrify him, send him running out of the lounge, but he’s locked down by the intrigue – a thrum of anticipation.
“If you’re looking for Saint, then you’ve come to the right place.” He smiled sheepishly. “It’s, uh– yeah, this is– this is it. I’m Angelo.” He ducked his head a little, his glasses tapping the bridge of his nose, unsure of what to do. Should he offer to shake his hand? Lacrimosa was as ethereal in person as he was in game, except this was real – polished. He was untouchable, yet never has he been more in reach.
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Saint
•
Weekend Warrior
Round 2
Posts: 386
Trainer Class:
Player Name: Angelo Alvarez
OOC Username: Sleepy
Arena Points: 10
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Post by Saint on Oct 11, 2023 7:39:29 GMT 9
You always have a choice.
Saint heard these words in his head, felt them shudder into his hands as he held Gumball closer to his chest. He hadn’t let go of the popplio since he left Bunya’s lab, too scared to lose him – and it wasn’t because of Gumball’s wanderlust anymore.
He was slipping from his fingers, quite literally. The frill around Gumball’s neck, patches of his belly, his flippers, and tail had acquired a strange, bubbly texture, as if the sea dog was turning to sea foam. Gumball delighted in this, chewing on his flippers as if to pop bubble wrap, and Saint had to scold him whenever he heard those alarming little honks.
It was, in all honesty, strange – but harmless. He could live with it. Gumball certainly wanted to, but he still—
He looked toward the horizon and saw something standing there, hunched over in the light, and while it tugged his heartstrings, it was his feet that drew him closer.
“Lacrimosa,” a breath of a name. “Lacrimosa!”
A hand grabbed hold of the man’s pale arm, Saint’s eyes bright pools of color that rove over him – latching onto his chest, which was whole, and in tact.
His hand dug into Lacrimosa’s skin.
“I didn’t think I would– see you again…”
The way he was turned. The look in his eyes. The espurr was nowhere to be seen.
Gumball giggled in his arms, waving his flipper in greeting, a bubble-shaped piece of him breaking off and floating out of reach.
You always have a choice. Please don’t go. It’s not worth it.
From this ready set of sensible words, what came out instead was, “Can I go with you?” And it horrified him, how much it sounded like longing.
no pokemon selected
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Saint
•
Weekend Warrior
Round 2
Posts: 386
Trainer Class:
Player Name: Angelo Alvarez
OOC Username: Sleepy
Arena Points: 10
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Post by Saint on Oct 6, 2023 2:12:13 GMT 9
It had taken a good while before he managed to bring himself to Bunya’s lab, and his mind continues to wander even inside it. His first venture to Mistra had been– he’s not sure. He knew the concrete events that unfolded – the strange mass of Corruption, Lacrimosa, what he had to do – but it felt… distant. It didn’t hold the weight he thought it should in his heart, as if only this numb guilt would be carried over to the real world.
Come to think of it, he never really noticed the actual immersion effect of the WorldScreen. Perhaps this is the Pain Reduction kicking in, blurring his experiences, making it smooth enough to swallow.
He shakes his head, snapping out of his thoughts. “Ah, sorry– I’m here to submit… this?” he handed the Corruption sample over to the peculiar professor. “There’s a testing phase to this, yes? What exactly does that ent… Gumball!”
His Popplio has managed to stealth his way out of his trainer’s sight, flop onto the control panel to open the chamber, and promptly shot himself in like a bowling ball, hitting the interior wall as if it were pins.
“He’s going to be okay, isn’t he?” Saint stammers, looking ready to go over there and pry his partner out.
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Saint
•
Weekend Warrior
Round 2
Posts: 386
Trainer Class:
Player Name: Angelo Alvarez
OOC Username: Sleepy
Arena Points: 10
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Post by Saint on Oct 5, 2023 22:26:43 GMT 9
Something was wrong. He had ripped the obstacle from its roots with his own hands, yet it didn’t feel as if he’d freed the captive. It felt like he had torn something. Something important.
Saint blinked hard. It was just Mistra. He opened his eyes and watched as Lacrimosa regurgitated his words, the syllables distorted far beyond the gentle hum he recognized; it scraped the back of his throat, made his hairs stand on ends.
But he did not pull away. He sank his heels into the hungry acid because despite the mutilation, it was still Lacrimosa in the end.
The tether. His eyes latched onto the animal horn. A reminder: Do not do anything to worsen the victim’s condition outside the operating room. Do not remove the embedded object. Apply pressure, monitor, and call for emergency services.
He fell to his knees, deaf to the cry of his Pokémon by the sidelines, numb to the acid eating through his clothes and into his legs.
There was nothing he could do to worsen Lacrimosa’s condition. The man was dying.
There was no one to call either.
It was as if the world had gone very, very still.
His fingers brushed the horn as he thought, what was an incompetent doctor to do, when left without tools and a patient on their deathbed?
He held his breath, wary of hurting Lacrimosa further— his palm shook anyways, as it wrapped over the jagged end. Warmth accumulated in his eyes and poured down his face, tapping a melody on Lacrimosa's skin. He could feel himself dying; the pain catching up to the healing the longer he stayed in the poison.
He tried to move, and his partially-melted hand slipped off the bone, pushing it deeper.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorryI’msorryI’msosorry—”
He steadied his hand with the other this time, both now poised over the stake that pinned his patient to earth. He couldn’t see their face behind the tears, and it helped. He couldn’t hear someone calling his name over the sound of his apologies.
Becoming a doctor had been an ambition sown by his family, but he had watered it and nourished it and ruined it on his own. He had wanted to help people.
What happens if helping someone means killing them?
He pulled the horn with both hands, and it was as easy as sinking a knife through someone’s heart.
AUDINO || 0/100
S82UwOcP1-20 1-20
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Saint
•
Weekend Warrior
Round 2
Posts: 386
Trainer Class:
Player Name: Angelo Alvarez
OOC Username: Sleepy
Arena Points: 10
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Post by Saint on Oct 5, 2023 11:22:03 GMT 9
Cinnamon frowned at the sight of tears. <Oh, no, no, honey… it’s okay…> She wiped her thumbs under Espurr’s eyes, her heart tightening with protective instinct. The kitten turned their head in her hands, and she couldn’t help follow, staring with knitted brows at the strange trainer. <Just what did he do to you…?>
Saint chewed the inside of his cheek. A few minutes... he could deal with a few minutes. The smile Lacrimosa gave him was trusting, and sealed his fate. He watched the espurr run back to Lacrimosa’s side, glancing over to Cinnamon, who followed suit, looking uncertain as she settled beside him, her gaze still fixed between the espurr and Lacrimosa.
The horizon beyond looked so innocent. Peaceful. As if they were about to step into a painting.
Saint nodded, listening to Lacrimosa as the man led them forwards. “As long as we stick together,” he echoed as Cinnamon slipped her paw in his hand. He gave it a little squeeze.
<I don’t know about this, Saint,> Cinnamon whispered, watching Espurr glance back at them, the way their steps stuttered as the two breached the border.
“It’s only for a few minutes. We can do this.” They had promised this. Saint to Lacrimosa, Cinnamon to the Espurr.
They stepped in, words lost between them – and sight soon after.
______
When he opened his eyes, he found himself in a pool. The realization lasted for all of a second before the burning registered.
“Argh!” he hissed and shot up, nearly stumbling back down in his haste. Pain shot down his arms and legs, his clothes stained with what looked to be ink, yet it couldn’t be– it was devouring the fabric off his back. It was eating through his shoes.
He leapt as far away as he could. The pile itself was shallow, a puddle, but as he turned around, he could see it for what it was: the flesh of a creature sloughing off its form. The thick tar dribbled down a hunched back, its surface rugged with all manner of viscera. Saint gagged.
He’s pulled from nausea by the sound of his name.
“I’m here!” he hurried, doing his best to avoid the puddles of tar. His fear spiked at the sight of white hair peeking out from between two pillars of gruel; Lacrimosa pinned underneath the abomination, and even worse, as he drew closer: the man had been staked in the stomach by a reeking animal horn.
“How did– how is any of this–” None of his words were coming out. No words could possibly contain this situation. The only thing that kept him from spiraling entirely was the strange calm of Lacrimosa’s voice, its dainty edges sanded down to fine tips that took control of him as a violinist with a bow.
His hands twitched, still searing with pain from the brief exposure of his awakening. They hovered over where Lacrimosa lay buried, an x-ray image of their skeletal frame flashing ever briefly behind his eyes, his fear narrated by a voice sewn from his nightmares.
<Saint.> A hand came upon his leg, and he flinched, looking down. Cinnamon stared up at him, her fear apparent, coat stained with tar as well. <We need to move.>
He’s glad, at least, that his Pokémon was here, but that still left the monumental task at hand. Moving a hulking pile of acid.
<Maybe… maybe I could heal him? Give us more time.> Cinnamon fidgeted. <We could find something around here to push the acid.>
But there was nothing. It was a barren wasteland, as good as a desert. Nothing was alive in Mistra, except the three of them right here— soon to be two.
“The shepherd seeks the stray lamb, and finds naught but bone.” Another echo. Hallucination. “Does it comfort you, child? To disturb the dead.”
“No.” Saint clenched his hands to make them stop shaking. “Try… try healing me instead. And don’t stop.”
Lacrimosa had said he wouldn’t want to use his hands, and he’s right– but what else was there?
He stepped into the pool, the soles of his feet burning as if hot coals. A dim glow of healing aura washed over him as Cinnamon cast her healing from the edge of the pit. He approached the carcass, and met with seven lifeless eyes, seven gaping maws, and six horns melting down its face.
“Lacrimosa, just hang on. I’ll– I’ll get this thing off you,” he said, unable to look it in the eyes. Unable to even look at Lacrimosa, who looked even more mangled up close.
He raised his hands, and began to push.
A groan of pain rose to a strained scream. The cloying stench of rot was potent enough to kill, and the repulsion of touching it– of letting his hands sink into its ruined carcass, feeling every thing that stirs inside it; rib, sinew, eyeball, tongues— it was unspeakable. It was something that never should have been made.
And he was letting it eat him alive.
Through excruciating pain and tears, he managed to wrench the hollowed cadaver off. It groaned and tilted, clinging to him, to Lacrimosa, as it is torn from the foundations and disposed.
Saint gasped, withdrawing his hands immediately, gritting his teeth hard enough to crack molar as he clenched and unclenched his fingers, desperate to know they still worked but unable to look at them.
He was barely able to stand by the time he could actually get a look at Lacrimosa’s body. Could he even touch it at this rate?
“L-Lacrimosa, are you– what do I do–”
AUDINO || 50/100
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