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Rain leaps down to the ground as fog slithers into the area, and Cypress lets out a small yelp as a drop of rain hits her back - its cold, too cold, cold like freezerburn must feel like in the frozen aisle, and it takes all that she has to not abandon all hope and leave - she needs to know the truth. Right?

A crack of thunder, loud like a whip, snaps the hybrid out of her reverie, and she runs into the first place she sees (if any more rain falls on her, she may freeze herself - for this rain feels oh, so, unnatural) and Cypress can't help but wave frantically to the first player she sees - someone named Mimiqueue - holding the door open for them to rush into if desired.
Afterwards, the wolf runs into the foyer - a home that still held a roof over its head, its entranceway cluttered with old pages of novels and books, and Cypress can't help but notice the seaweed. Curling upon some of the books themselves, some lodged in-between pages like makeshift bookmarks, staining some of the pages with deep, deep green.

A scrap of paper though, catches her attention - laid away from the rest with almost a sense of care, it appears torn from a journal as well, like the previous. The scrawl is a bit more messy, mistakes being made more frequently, as if one's hands had frozen to the pen, writing in the best scrawl they could manage.

SPOILER: Click to show

{note 2: or, the rain, eyes, the first heirloom.}

xxx xxx, xxx.
To journal,
this is not the best time to be writing this, i'm sure, but the weather has gotten awfully wprse lately, and with it, my headaches. father always told me to go lie in bed as sister and brother would tide me over with silly games and stories, but i always felt. facinated by the way rin falls, rippling outward. but this is not normal rain, for normal rain does not sting ones back like a arbok's tooth and threaten to burrow into your bones. how i oculd wish to have a cup of tea in the warmsth with a scone and marbaleade.
but this is not the only strange occurance. beds of kepw keep wash up on the doks ofen daly, and many people claim that people walk to the arboe never
well, they never return.
the fog roms in and it feels suffocating and the airy airi breth has been getting coder as ell and it is this tat i concerneitly wrte to you - it fels like something is wahchting me. staring into my vvery heart my very soul to pluck out whatever remains.
[there's splotches of ink on the page obscuring what could have been written]
apoligens, thunder crashed upon me and it sems like fog is roming in, thinsa are getingworse.
i don't know when it will end.
m relly scared.
and it is in this time that i confide to you, the first of the sinclair famly heirlooms - the charm of the sea.
it is a simple sapphire charm aurrounded by gold, cut in a pear shape, with a ruby in the midle, like a mythical waterfaringmon itself.
mother would lways read me a story bout it - that oneday, my grate grate grate grandfather philo sinclair the irst had gone out to sea, and that he had seen a pokemon he'd never seen before. he described it as bluewith a hart as red as
as mithing, hedache is worse. by the glds.
dad said that the charm gives the courage to wash away ones fears, keep holding fast bove all else and to..adapt. change. for bettr, to hope for better, to moveoutward regardless of strife to know our actions ripple ourwards and outwards regardless of what you do and accepting memories of that legacy of a man who saw a creature.
just lke ripples in the water of the rain
justlike the eyes staring right back at me.

yors,
philo sinlair xiv.

[Underneath the journal entry, there is something, scrawled in sloppy handwriting and ink blots.]
You are being watched - QUIET.

For a moment, Cypress stared at the new page, only glancing up to the almost dutiful tracker (2/4 notes collected), mind rolling around with worry and terror and pity.

...Poor Philo. First leaving his home for his grandfather's home, and now headaches and...the weather?
And then there's that note...being watched...eyes...needing to stay quiet...
A crack of thunder seemed to knock something down unseen, and the woman bristles, suppressing the urge to yelp in fright.

Here she was, staring up, up, up at the diamond shaped pillar, the hybrid would stare at it, watching as blue veins crawled across the metal and the sweet smell of ozone filled her nose.
The destruction around her, the abandoned cityscape may be intense, but this...this was like nothing she'd ever felt before.

The pressure resting beneath her skin, the buzz of rain deep within her bones - it was pressure, as she rested her palm against the metal. And yet, as soon as it began, it was over - the stress in her stomach was gone like the fleeing of a storm, and all that was left was a tingling sensation in her hand from when she removed it from the steel.
Cypress let out a breath she didn't know she was holding onto, whispered a soft "Thanks,", and began her trek.

Now, what direction are the dunes in again...?

It started out as a normal day.

Cypress had just obtained one of the more familiar tools in a Pokemon game - a Fishing Rod, and was asking around Briarbane if there were any good fishing spots nearby. Some spoke about some lakes near town, others about rivers in the Birchwood, or even small lakes unmagnetized in the Steppes.

Though one place that always seemed to be met with whispers was the Timberwood. Always met with a concerned look and a quick change of subject, it was when the hybrid opted to talk with a man, hair peppered with gray streaks and his eyes seeming far older than how he sounded, that she got answers.

"Aye, the Misty Timberlands...there's one place you could go to fish - has all the gear for it too, if yer looking to make a living, but...I wouldn't."
Curiosity reared its cat-like head.
"Where?"
"...the Abandoned Village."
And so, the wolf heard the tale of a small town, somewhere in the Misty Timberlands, who's residents just suddenly became Magikarp.
A town, once full of life, suddenly became a shell of itself - pots on a stove, food left to spoil, belongings scattered about, rainwater left to stagnate...it was a mystery as much as any. So, when Cypress asked why, he shrugged. "Who knows. All I know is that the town must have been abandoned for a reason."

And so, here she is now, approaching with care and caution - a cloudy summer night made even more mysterious by her intended destination, no Pokemon following behind her like usual.
'A lone wolf by any other name,' her mind sighed, before she scrunched up her nose.
Salt and seafood smells - a familiar feeling for one living in a coastal state - combined with the visuals, and the seemingly pungent smell of rotting wood, a question lingered within.

She had to figure out what happened. If not to put a rumor to rest...then to at least understand, to figure out the truth.

...?


A small note laid by her foot, almost stepped on - torn at the edges, it seemed to be from some sort of...book. Carefully, she picked it up, and began to read.

SPOILER: Click to show

{Note 1; or, a aspirant, a librarian.}

xxx xxx, xxx.
Dear Journal,
It's quite strange to be writing in you, after all this time, but I dare say I may need your company more than ever.

After my grandfather's untimely passing, may he rest with the Legends, I not only inherited his house, but also his fishing gear - so long as I move into his home, as the will decreed.
The rest of the family refused to go with me despite his last wishes, so I decided to leave on my own, despite their firm requests to ignore the inheritance and stay.
I do hope they can forgive me for leaving so suddenly, especially with no warning.

But I cannot stay home, not when my grandfather's last written words rings in my ears. For it is my right as a Sinclair to do the best I can for those I love...even if they're gone.

But, regardless of the...ascertaining circumstances, I have prepared to settle in my grandfather's home, carriage ride and all. With me, I have taken my collection of novels and books, as well as my family heirlooms - though, I suppose I'll get back to the latter when the time is right.

And thus, I write to you, as we make our way to the village of [the words appear waterlogged, worn by time and seasalt - impossible to read.]. - fishing industry.

I dare say that my journey is almost at an end - I smell the familiar scent of salted water, and the cool breeze of ocean air. I will write to you anon, when I have become settled in.

Sincerely,
Philo Sinclair XIV

Reading through the entry, Cypress's ears pricked up at the sudden creaking of planks and wood. Despite everything, the note seemed...normal. A man, a librarian, moving into his grandfather's home here. Was that all there was...or was there something else?
Looking up from the note, her eyes seemed to widen.

? ? ?.
NOTES FOUND: 1/4

That...wasn't there before. Did it appear when she was reading, or when she had approached?

Either way, there must be more notes inside the town proper.
So, with a inhale and exhale, Cypress entered the town - wooden planks creating familiar creaking sounds underfoot.

Cypress was never really a fan of sci-fi games. Even after life and constant recommendations by her fellow workers, she never really could get into the games like Stellaris, or Milky Way Effect.

But that never really stopped her from finding an interest in glowing objects and fancy spaceships - the blue acid dripping down from the batteries giving her a sense of...well, uneasiness.
So, when Josh said he didn't pick the battle arena, the hybrid wasn't going to judge him - instead, she'd smile and say "That's all right - and woah, a Mudsdale! Been a while since I've seen one of those!"
Her eyes almost lighting up as the translucent glass didn't even break underneath the mighty weight of the draft horse. And the hiss of something on the roof didn't feel...well, trustworthy. But still.
Sci-Fi. Gotta love it...kinda.
At the start of the fight, Cypress would crack her knuckles, taking out a Pokeball and throwing it underhand. "Huck, you're on shift!"
The Mudkip would leap out and land almost squarely as he could, making sure to land on the glass as he glanced around the environment, before focusing on the Mudsdale with a deep breath.

Josh Devlin

current party + personalities
[tangent=huck | careful.][/tangent] [tangent=spearmint | clever.][/tangent]
[tangent=paprika | forceful.][/tangent]

The prompt chimed with 'Use a Grass Type Move', and Cypress was all the happy to provide it - the scattering Patrat being chased by a Fomantis with a expression of determination.
"Nice to meet you both - I'm Cypress," the wolf woman introduced herself as Spearmint continued to chase around the mice pokemon. "And Pokemon racing sounds interesting! Same with collecting grass and bug types!"
She sheepishly moved a hand behind her neck. "I'm not too sure about a goal either...but I think it'll come to me when it happens."

Fomantis used Razor Leaf!

One of the Patrat were knocked down to the ground by minty green leaves, prompting a chime of <"Got you!"> from Spearmint, and a chuckle from Cypress at her Pokemon's antics.

Cypress said:

sounds cool, omw!
just lemme figure out how to get to the harbor first!

It was a quiet day in Felicity's apartment - a lack of shifts (most likely to train any new hires) left her entire week free to do whatever she wished.
She could go on a walk, she could go to one of the cafes - she could do anything she wanted.

And yet, here she was, staring at the beige ceiling, feeling almost bored.
She could do so many things, and yet all she wanted to do was get back to work.

But then, a message arrived - prompting a tilt of the head. Big Bee...? Oh! Big Bee! From that event! She read it over.

A boat race...? At a...Drowned Harbour? Now that sounded cool!

Typing up a response, Felicity would smile to herself, before exhaling.
Now how to get to this...Drowned Harbour?

An hour later, Cypress would be walking over to the pier, taking note of the once proud vessels now shells of their former glory. If she spotted Big Bee, she would give a cheerful wave, smiling. "Sorry for the wait! Had to figure out where I was going..."

Would she most likely need to figure out a means of transportation? Probably. But right now, it's Boat Time.

Preparing to clamber into one of the many Pokemon-themed boats, a pop-up would catch her attention.

Please select Three (3) Pokemon, or yourself, to participate in this event!

Three Pokemon hmm...? Well, luckily for this event!

Soon, after the Pokemon were sent out (and explanations were had), Cypress had selected her roster - with input, of course.

Huck requested that he be on the Rower position and Spearmint all but cheered when the Figurehead position was mentioned. Paprika, on the other hand...

Paprika was staring into the ocean, before shuddering slightly.
A beat passed before the reason hit her as to the reaction.

Houndour is part Fire-type. Fire and something like a boat race over an ocean...That wouldn't mix well.

So, with a sigh, Cypress would approach the Dark Pokemon, before lightly patting him on the head. Silence passed.

<"Madame, are you sure this race is...safe?">
"I'm sure it will be fine...but you don't have to participate if you don't want to - I can take the final position, if you need."
A moment of silence before a nod from the canine,.
<"...if you could do so? I give my thanks.">, he would bark, as Cypress returned him to the Pokeball, before clambering into the boat with the rest of the team.

Spearmint would Ingrain herself to keep herself steady in the slightly damp seat, while Huck would appear quite comfortable in the rowers section, front paws around the rowers and preparing to push with all he had.

Cypress meanwhile, had positioned herself at the helm, testing the rudder and taking in the salty sea air.