Scenario 2 - The Walkorpse Dead

[Parugi]

RotR Side-Scenarios: Scenario 2

The Walkorpse Dead

At approximately 10:45 PM on August ~~th, an object crash-landed in the midst of Obsidian Maze Max Security Prison, located in Black City, Unova. Though Team Plasma's organization response was quick, it soon fell into chaos as a mysterious pulse swept across the city, transforming a sizable portion of the population into what can only be described as zombies--and some into the faceless Nobuddy Instances. Coupled with the concurrent (though fewer) appearances of other Instances, and fleeting reports of a large, mechanical biped along with a strange, puppet-like insect creature that broke through the response line at the prison, the only choice now is to run, hide, and hope to escape before it's too late.

Players in this scenario will occupy the role of 1. Plasma Agents, working to escort civilians and the remaining Sages out of Black City, and/or 2. Civilians, aiming to escape the city by whatever means necessary.

Starting locations can be anywhere in Black City except for Obsidian Maze Max Security Prison. Obviously for scenario purposes, you probably don't want to start near the outskirts of town where escape would be easy.

Starting location for the Six Sages will be in their chamber in Plasma Castle. At this point, at least one Sage has already been affected by the fallen object and transformed into a Walkorpse.

For NPC character creation:

Plasma Agents
-Are better-equipped than the average civilian
-Armed with one weapon (typically a pistol or rifle) and standard police equipment--handcuffs, a heavy flashlight, spare ammo, radios, etc.
-Generally will carry 1 to 2 Pokemon on their person; because of Plasma's stance on Pokemon, these typically will be more along the lines of service animals than combatant Pokemon.

PROFILE FORM:
[b]-Name: [/b]
[b]-Role:[/b]
[b]-Appearance:[/b]
[b]-Personality: [/b]
[b]-Background:[/b]
[b]-Equipment:[/b]
[b]-Pokemon:[/b]
[b]--Pokemon (Ability):[/b] Moves
[b]--Pokemon (Ability):[/b] Moves

All fields can be filled with very brief information. It's mainly for your reference.


Civilians
-If they have equipment, it will generally be things that they grabbed from home in a panic.
-These are not typically going to be the "adventuring"-type--they are average day-to-day civilians thrown into the middle of what is essentially a zombie apocalypse.
-Will generally have 0 to 2 Pokemon that likely will not be fully evolved.

PROFILE FORM:
[b]-Name:[/b]
[b]-Role:[/b]
[b]-Appearance:[/b]
[b]-Personality:[/b]
[b]-Background:[/b]
[b]-Equipment:[/b]
[b]-Pokemon:[/b]
[b]--Pokemon (Ability):[/b] Moves

All fields can be filled with very brief information. It's mainly for your reference.


Goals for all characters will be to escape Black City. This can be done in a variety of ways--get through one of the gates around the city; catch a helicopter and make it safely to the landing helipad; get through the sewer systems and out of town; etc. Whatever you can think of, it is probably an option.

Now, here's the twist:

This whole mess is caused by a pulse related to the strange object in the prison. The pulse can be physically felt when it activates, and activation is effectively random. Upon activation, it will affect things and transform them into Instances. The initial pulse was powerful enough to transform a number of humans within Black City into Walkorpse and some into Nobuddy. It can also affect Pokemon and transform them into pure-Type Instances. Additionally, the pulse affects inanimate objects, as well. In the course of navigating the city, pulses will hit and may result in party members or surrounding objects transforming into Instances.

For characters, I will normally leave this to you and assume that none of your characters are actually affected. However, I may message you with a proposition (or a mandate :) ) that a character you are controlling has been transformed into a Nobuddy. In this event, the transformation will not be announced in-topic, and you can proceed as you wish--either holding the charade to the end of the game and letting the Nobuddy "escape" to safety with everyone else, or maintaining the illusion of normality until you decide to drop it and attack people.

Either way, there will be some new Instances introduced, so look forward to that.

Oh, and some of those objects/equipment your characters have? Those could also transform on pulse activation, as well.

Also, just a general note, the intent here isn't to make new characters for the game so much as just to give people something to do. If your characters survive, then you can definitely bring them in for bigger things in the game, but you don't have to and I'm not encouraging you to do so.

[Parugi]

F.A.Q.

1. What's the point of this?
A. A couple of points:

• To give Parugi something to do
• To play around with Mega Evolutions
• To kill time
• So that Parugi can set up something for the future
• To have fun

Take your pick. :D


2. Does everyone feel the pulse each time, or do they only feel it when it affects them?
A. They all feel it every time. It's like when lightning is about to strike and you can feel the hair on the back of your neck standing up


3. Hey wait a second, why are Moves under the Pokemon profiles if the Pokemon can't actually use moves?
A. Mega Evolution isn't completely out of the picture.... :p But I mean the moves are good for response reference even if they're inaccessible, right? Right.


4. A few technical questions regarding the Walkorpse, do they die if they get shot? Also has the name Walkorpse (and Nobuddy for that matter) or any details surrounding them been released to the Plasma agents?
A. Well:

• If you shoot them enough. Headshots help.
• -Walkorpse: No; this will be ambiguously the first or second encounter along with Mt. Silver, so no one has concrete information on them.
• -Nobuddy: There may be vague details that have been sent over since the incident with Miyu, but it's so recent that there's still little information available.
• -Other Instances: At this point it's safe to assume that base information on Pure-Type Instances has generally been distributed.

5. Cool. Also the Missing Index marks Walkorpse's stats as scaling from 1 to 6. For reference, what stats would you give regular humans? Would they be 1 or more like 0.5?
A. nah, you're reading it wrong. The 1 to 6 scale is for every Instance--it's not that their power scales, but it's how their stats are measured, like a Pokemon's stats. That said, I'd say for an average, a regular human would be something like...
HP - 3
Attack - 3
Defense - 3
Sp. Attack/Defense - 1
Speed - 3
Maybe 2 for HP/Attack/Defense, though?

But definitely a 3 for speed. Walkorpse can't run. Humans can.
That being said, Walkorpse compound each other's stats the more they group up by sheer strength of numbers. So a massive crowd would max out the scale.


6. How many Walkorpse would it take to match a human's speed?
A. Mm... 30?


7. ...this is probably getting too technical, but Walkorpse can use Scary Face, which lowers speed two stages. Stages =/= Base Stats, but how many Scary Faces would it take for a human to be as slow as a single Walkorpse?
A. If a Walkorpse uses Scary Face on a person, they're trying to frighten that person to a standstill. So either it works and they freeze, it sort of works and they stumble, or they aren't affected and GTFO.


8. Do you want profiles in the discussion topic?
A. lol the discussion topic doesn't really exist anymore, huh? No, I'll make a board for Scenario profiles; you can post them there under a singular topic.

[Parugi]

[held]

[Parugi]

Scenario 2 - ​IC - Plasma Sage Gorm/Bronius/Ryoku/Zinzolin/Giallo/Rood; Plasma Rook Kravits/Barton/Sartore/Summers/Frei/Schroder - Council Chamber, Plasma Castle:
 
10:43 PM
 
The Sages' debate chambers were never silent, at least not when the leaders in question were present. The tall, cathedral-like chamber, with its pleasant fires burning on torches and the simple furniture that furnished the room, had been meant to encourage polite debate and discussion amongst the Six Bishops. Of late, however, their discussions had grown less and less civil, evolving from 'talks' to 'debates' to what could only be described as 'arguments.' And with three against three on each side, the gridlock had grown more and more noticeable.
 
It was to the point that, were it not for their vows, their personal guards might have been tempted to express some of their own exasperation.
 
Currently, their 'debate' centered around the ongoing crisis in the region of the Sevii Islands.
 
"We already nearly lost one of our own helping them deal with One Island," Rood was saying. "Not to mention the damage they've done previously in our region. As far as I can tell, they brought this on themselves by not dealing with Ford sooner. We have no place in this conflict."
 
"Our best move would be a return to closed walls," Giallo said, nodding aggressively. "They handled the Ancient Darkrai, did they not? Surely this is no different?"
 
"The Darkrai were a formidable threat, but they are nothing like what we are seeing now," Ryoku said, slamming his hand down. "The Ancient Darkrai could not create mockeries of nature the way this 'Missing Zero' does. It would be an affront to our ideals to refuse assistance now."
 
"Ryoku is right," Gorm said. "This threat will spread. What happens if Rocket and Liberty cannot contain it? We will be by ourselves either way. There is no harm in putting our lot in with them while we can--"
 
A blinding light shone through the windows as something streaked across the sky, narrowly missing the tower.
 
 
10:45 PM
 
The crash was enough to shake the castle at its core, sending Sages and Rooks alike to the ground. When it had settled, the chamber was a mess of falling dust and upset furniture.
 
"W-What w-was th-that?" Giallo yelped. He looked frantically around the room, making eye contact with Barton and waving her over. The Yellow Rook hurried to his side, grabbing his hand and helping him up. "A-Are we under a-attack?"
 
Kravits hurried to Gorm's side to assist him, simultaneously raising a hand to his ear and activating his radio. "Command Center, report. What is happening?"
 
A strange sensation erupted across the entire city.
 
 
10:47 PM
 
As Rood, Giallo, and Gorm were pulled to their feet by their guards, something . . . else happened in rapid succession around the room. 
 
The Green Rook, Summers, buckled as Ryoku collapsed back to the ground. He reached around the Green Sage's back to support him. "Sage Ryoku! Are you--" His words caught in his throat as the Sage slowly raised his head to look at him. Summers paled. The Sage's face had turned a sickly, grayish hue, and his eyes had clouded over. A low moan escaped his throat; a moment later, he had lunged forward in Summers's grip, teeth closing on the flesh of the Rook's face.
 
Bronius yelped in surprise as the weight of Schroder fell on him. The Brown Rook had transformed in much the same way as Ryoku. As Bronius struggled to get out from under him, Schroder twisted and pinned the Brown Sage underneath him. It seemed to take a moment for Schroder(?) to fully comprehend what was happening, but when he did, he pushed down and bit--hard--into Bronius's throat. The Sage screamed in horror and pain.
 
The Purple Rook, Frei, was not quite at Zinzolin's side when the wave hit. She fell several feet away from him, stirring a moment later and snarling, glaring out at nothing with those same, glossy eyes. As Zinzolin watched, horrified, she crawled over to the nearest target--Bronius--and joined in tearing him apart.
 
It was a lot to take in in such a short amount of time. Kravitz jumped into action, pulling out his stun baton and charging toward Bronius's assailants. The pair had done a number on him already; blood surrounded him, and it was clear that he was no longer breathing, or at least could no longer scream. With a wide, heavy swing, the Blue Rook struck Schroder, sending him rolling to the side with a series of electricity-induced convulsions. Frei reared up to snarl at him and he struck again, knocking her aside, too.
 
While Barton deployed her shield and moved to guard the remaining Sages, Sartore moved to try and save Summers. She pulled her sword free of its sheath and swung with the blunt end at Ryoku--or what had been Ryoku--in order to knock him off of the Green Rook. She was too late, however; Summers raised shaking hands to the bleeding wound on his face and the torn flesh of his neck, gasping and falling still. Tearing her eyes away, she watched Ryoku carefully and moved toward Zinzolin, pulling him up and escorting him back toward the other Sages.
 
Kravitz brandished his baton at the monstrous Brown and Purple Rooks, not daring to take his eyes off of them. "Sage Gorm, requesting clearance to eliminate hostile agents."
 
Gorm shook where he stood, unable to comprehend what he was seeing. Finally, he nodded. "P-Permission granted."
 
"Permission acknowledged." Kravitz dropped his stun baton, grabbing his rifle and taking quick aim at his targets. One, two shots slammed into each of their heads, knocking them back and downing them. They did not move.
 
As Ryoku lunged at her, Sartore instinctively moved her blade to defend herself. The sword pierced Ryoku's chest, prompting an outraged scream from Zinzolin.
 
"You were not authorized to kill a Sage!" he yelled. "Rooks Kravitz and Barton, arrest Rook Sa-"
 
Rood placed a hand on Zinzolin's shoulder. "Silence!" he spat. "Ryoku attacked one of our own. He knew the consequences of such an attack, no matter what possessed him to--"
 
"Sages!" Sartore yelled. "This . . . This is not Sage Ryoku--not anymore!"
 
It couldn't have been, no. Ryoku would have been dead from such a wound. But this creature did not die; it pushed forward, driving the blade deeper into itself, groaning not in pain, but merely to groan as it reached toward Sartore. With a quick, clean motion, the Red Rook pulled her blade free and swung, slicing through Ryoku's neck. The creature fell to the ground, motionless and bleeding.
 
The chamber fell silent.
 
It was Gorm who spoke first. "What evil has fallen upon us . . .?"
 
"I don't know," Kravitz said. He stooped down by Summers's body, hefting the ceremonial mace that the Rook had once wielded. "But . . ." He glanced toward the window. Screams and shouts reached them now, from the city and from elsewhere in the castle. "This place is no longer safe for any of us. We need to go--now."

[Konuju]

IC: Rachel Brown - Streets, Black City
A young woman raced through the dark streets. The city had become enveloped in a rapidly spreading panic. Screams echoed across the towering rooftops and the alleys had become a dark maze of life and death. It was this panic that spurred Rachel Brown through a sketchy neighborhood she would have avoided under normal circumstances.

A small group stumbled out of some sort of bar or club up ahead, forcing Rachel to duck into the nearest alley. In the darkness she couldn't tell if these people were zombies or simply drunks, but she didn't want to take a chance either way.

She crouched behind a dumpster and listened for approaching footsteps. Her Minccino clung to her shoulder, regarding the grimy alley in disgust. Rachel held her breath, pulling her Plasma-issued hat over her eyes in a desperate attempt to blend in with her surroundings. The Plasma uniform was not designed for camouflage, but the relative darkness was enough to keep her hidden.

That is, until her Xtransceiver rang. Cursing herself for her negligence, Rachel quickly silenced the device. She looked up to see five zombies standing at the alley entrance, each gazing at her with soulless eyes. Then as one, the horde closed in on her.

She'd heard about them from other Plasma agents, but it was the first time Rachel had seen the creatures up close. Rotting skin, mouths slightly agape, it was like they had been pulled straight out of a horror movie. Rachel found herself unable to move, her eyes drawn to the zombies' slow, arrhythmic movements as her heart pounded faster and faster.

Realizing her trainer was too terrified to run, Minccino leapt off Rachel's shoulder and smacked the nearest zombie with her tail. The undead creature stopped in its tracks and blinked in surprise before taking a swipe at the Pokémon and slamming her against the wall.

This shocked Rachel out of her trance. Running out from behind the dumpster, she met the nearest zombie with her shoulder as she scooped up Minccino in her arms. The zombie took a moment to react to this turn of events before reaching out to ensnare the Plasma agent in a bear hug.

A swift kick between the legs knocked the zombie off balance enough for Rachel to escape deeper into the alley. She had only gone a few paces before a chain link fence came into view, spanning the width of the alley.

Rachel turned around to see the zombies ambling after her. Even at their slow pace, it wouldn't take long for them to catch up. Minccino scrambled up to the top of the fence and beckoned for Rachel to follow.

"Alright," the Plasma agent whispered to herself. "I can do this." Taking a deep breath, she planted one foot in the fence and hoisted herself up. Her foot slipped and she fell to the ground, much to Minccino's dismay.

The zombies were closing in now, five pairs of hands grasping at their soon-to-be victim.

"Sawsbuck, I need your help!" Rachel hurled a Pokéball at the horde. A large deer emerged, bucked, and back-kicked the two closest zombies with enough force to send the entire group to the ground.

Before they had a chance to get up, Rachel had swung onto her Sawsbuck's back. The Season Pokémon took a running start and vaulted over the fence. Minccino hopped down onto Rachel's shoulder, and the trio took off into the night. No one dared to look back.

After making sure to silence her Xtransceiver, Rachel pulled up the devices GPS function to navigate her way through the unfamiliar streets from atop Sawsbuck's back. Everywhere she looked she found more of the zombie creatures gathering while the un-zombified populace ran off in terror. The situation was getting worse by the minute.

"We have to hurry," she urged her Pokémon. "I don't know how long--"

A large window exploded next to her, sending shards of glass flying everywhere. Amidst the fragments, a body slammed into her with enough force to send her tumbling to the ground.


IC: Miles Frost - Hotel, Black City
The pulses had woken him up, but it was the fire alarm that spurred him into action. Groggy and still half-asleep, Miles Frost stepped out of his hotel room to see what was going on. Up and down the hall, the hotel's other patrons responded in a similar confusion.

The hotel's courtyard style architecture allowed each patron a view of the lobby, decorated with a pristine marble fountain of Unova's twin legendary dragons. And so when the scream pierced the air, everyone was able to see a twisted figure fall from a floor up above and strike the fountain with a resounding crack. Whoever the unfortunate victim was, everyone assumed they were dead.

That was when the victim staggered to their feet and began to walk in a slow, erratic fashion. Miles was sure he was hallucinating -- a byproduct of the stress, no doubt. A single word echoed throughout the courtyard from one of the upper floors; a word that provided a succinct yet outrageous definition for the strange phenomenon: "Zombies!"

The dam had broken. As one the hotel's hundreds of patrons flew into a mass panic. Now that the adrenaline had woken him up, Miles retreated back into his room to grab what he could before making his escape. The sounds of shattering glass reached his ears, and he saw a number of people had escaped out their windows on flying Pokémon. Shaking his head, Miles quickly pulled on the button-down shirt and suit pants he had laying out, then grabbed his briefcase.

He barely made it out the door when someone slammed into him with enough force to push him back into the hotel room. The two of them fell back on the couch and Miles's vision became obscured by a headful of long, unkempt hair and a torn nightgown. "Are . . . are you alright, ma'am?" he asked as he tried to gently push the woman off of him.

The woman gave a feeble groan in response, and when she lifted her head, Miles saw something out of a nightmare. Her eyes had sunken into their sockets, her mouth hung askew, and her teeth had grown jagged like an animal's. A discolored hand reached out and closed around his neck.

Eyes bulging, Miles rolled himself and the zombie woman off the couch. The impact of hitting the floor loosened the woman's grip enough for Miles to pull back and stare in a mixture of shock and horror. "This can't be real," he muttered.

The zombie rose to her feet and lunged at him. Miles easily dodged and tried to grab a lamp to use as a weapon, but the furnishing had been fastened to the wall. When the woman lunged a second time, Miles swung his briefcase. His heart sank as the sound of ripping leather filled the room. The woman's nails -- more akin to claws -- had torn through the briefcase like a knife through butter. Papers flew everywhere as the ruined briefcase fell to the floor.

As the woman lunged yet again, Miles ducked into the bathroom, eyes scanning the room for any potential weapon. He settled on the towel rack, a long metal beam fastened to the wall by two ends. He grabbed the shaft and pulled as hard as he could. It didn't budge.

The zombie stumbled into the bathroom, and Miles had to hop onto the counter to avoid her attack. She struck the wall with enough force to loosen the towel rack. With one last burst of strength Miles managed to yank the beam free and swung it in a wide arc. The metal connected with the woman's head, splattering the walls with blood.

He reeled back, the weapon clattering to the floor as he caught his breath. The woman lay still, slumped against the shower door in a bloodied mess. Miles closed his eyes and fought back the sickly feeling rising in his stomach.

Muffled screams reached his ears, mixed with the continuous blaring of the fire alarm. With shaking legs, Miles slowly rose to his feet. Grabbing the towel rack, he staggered out into the hallway. People ran past him in both directions -- some headed for the fire exit to the left, others to the trio of glass elevators to the right. Some tried to drag heavy suitcases along with them, others had their hands full with children. Already, Miles could see the small stairwell to his left was over capacity. Trying to get through there would be like trying to squeeze through a can of sardines.

Brandishing his weapon, Miles headed toward the elevators. At the sight of the bloody metal bar, people gave Miles a wide berth. He was on the third floor, so the elevators were jam packed with people from all of the higher floors. After what felt like an eternity, Miles managed to squeeze onto one of the lifts.

When they reached the lobby, the elevator's occupants dispersed in a mad mob, racing for safety. Unfortunately it looked like more than a few people had gotten the idea to throw the zombies over the balcony into the courtyard -- the lobby was teeming with the undead creatures. About half of the people from the elevator found themselves mauled by the horde. Miles would have been one of those unfortunate victims were it not for his trusty towel rack. He swung wildly as he made his way toward the door, and for a fleeting moment it looked like freedom was within his grasp.

Then one of the zombies tackled him from behind, sending him crashing through the enormous stained glass window. His momentum sent him crashing into a Sawsbuck, dislodging its rider. Miles lay dazed on the pavement, his towel rack clattering several feet away. A foul, acidic saliva drooled from the zombie's mouth as it leaned over him. This zombie was much larger than the woman in his hotel room, and Miles didn't have the strength to push himself free. He shut his eyes and braced himself for the inevitable end.

[Konuju]

IC: Rachel Brown/Miles Frost - Streets, Black City
Rachel groaned as she picked herself up off the ground. She had rolled several feet away from Sawsbuck, who was stomping his hooves in exasperation. The deer Pokémon had backed away from the point of impact, where amidst shattered glass a zombie sat atop its flailing victim. Time seemed to slow as the man realized he couldn't escape from under the zombie and stopped struggling. For a fleeting moment Rachel considered making a run for it while the zombie was still distracted. Then before she could change her mind, she whistled sharply.

With a disgruntled snort, Sawsbuck pranced back toward the creature and jabbed it with his hooves. A sharp crack pierced the air as the zombie skidded across the pavement. It slowly rose to its feet and bared its sharp teeth at the Pokémon that had dared to interrupt it.

Rachel was ready for it. She leveled her pistol at the zombie's head and fired. Blood and brains splattered everywhere as the now headless corpse crumpled to the ground. The Plasma agent waited a few seconds before allowing herself a sigh of relief.

A scream of rage made her jump as the man she had just saved bolted to his feet, grabbed a metal bar, and began wailing on the zombie's lifeless body. "Come at me, you monster! I'll beat every last one of you freaks into a pulp!"

This went on for several seconds before Rachel cleared her throat. "I think it's dead."

The man paused long enough to observe the bloody mess of the zombie's remains. "Yep, that's two down." He looked up at his rescuer, recognizing her Plasma uniform. "Listen, ma'am, there's something really weird going on in that hotel. Like some sort of zombie convention where the cosplayers try to kill you. You might need to call for backup."

"Not just this hotel," Rachel said as she holstered her pistol and carefully approached her bucking Sawsbuck. "We've got reports of zombies popping up all over the city. Shhh, it's alright. Thank you for helping us out back there." She continued to speak in a soothing voice as she stroked the Sawsbuck's nose. The grass-type briefly pawed at the ground before nuzzling against her.

"The whole city?!" The man cried. "Great, getting out of the hotel was hard enough. Any idea what caused this?"

The sound of crunching glass drew Rachel's attention to the hotel. Several zombies had started to crawl out of the broken window. A few of them eyed the people fleeing out the revolving door, but most of the creatures were focused on Rachel and the young man. "We need to get out of here." Rachel called Sawsbuck back into his Pokéball and motioned for Minccino to hop back on her shoulder. When the man hesitated, she grabbed him by the arm and pulled him toward the nearest alley.

The first few zombies had made it out the window and started to pursue them. These creatures seemed to run faster than the ones Rachel had previously encountered, but the maze-like structure of the alleyways provided plenty of opportunities for them to lose the horde. Even so, both of them were out of breath by the time Rachel allowed them to rest.

For the first time, Rachel got a good look at the man she'd rescued. He looked to be in his mid- to late-twenties, no more than a year or two older than her. His business casual shirt remained unbuttoned over a plain undershirt, and even in the low light she could see his slacks had become stained with blood, mud, or some combination of the two. His brown eyes darted left and right, and he held his makeshift weapon, a metal pole, close to his slender frame.

"So," Rachel said as she took a seat behind a dumpster. "You got a name?"

The man slowly slid down the wall opposite her, still clutching his weapon. "Miles," he said in a quiet voice. "Miles Frost." Although he tried to hide it, Rachel could tell he was scared. And if she was being honest with herself, she was too.

"Rachel Brown," the woman answered as she stroked her Minccino's fur. "Listen, Miles. If you want to stay here, that's fine. It'll take the zombies some time to find you back here. But I've got someplace I need to be. If you want to come with me, you can't slow me down. Understand?"

Miles hugged his weapon and nodded. "I've taken out two zombies already with this towel rack. I think I can keep up."

"I hope you're not counting the one Sawsbuck helped you with," Rachel said wryly. "What Pokémon do you have? We'll need all the help we can get against those creatures."

"I don't have any."

"Excuse me?" For a second, Rachel thought she misheard. Miles gave a tired smile, as if he was used to such a reaction.

"I never needed one," he said in an almost bored tone. Rachel figured he had given this explanation countless times before. "My old man always said I should be strong enough to defend myself without help from others. That includes Pokémon."

Rachel wasn't one to judge someone else's life choices, but her expression betrayed her admonishment. Even Minccino stared at the man in disbelief.

"Yep, you Plasma chauvinists always seem to take it the hardest." Miles gave an apathetic sigh. "You act like it's some cardinal sin to not associate with Pokémon. Well, I'm perfectly happy by myself. I save a lot of money not having to buy Pokéballs, extra food, and all that other stuff. Plus my world didn't come to an end after that flash of light a few weeks ago."

His quick retribution stung her. "I didn't mean to offend you, I've just never met anyone like that before," Rachel said softly. "If you'd rather go on your own, we can part ways here."

Miles shook his head. "Like you said, we need all the help we can get. This is my first time in Black City, so I'd just get myself lost on my own."

The Plasma agent merely nodded as she pulled up the GPS on her Xtransceiver. She continued to stare at the device long after she had plotted her route. It was the best distraction from the uncomfortable silence that had formed between them.

[minun4]

IC: Walker Day - Black City

Walker Day’s bus was almost an hour late. The bus was late, his cell phone had low battery, he was wearing the same clothes as yesterday, it was midnight and he was tired. He was quite content to get home already. The dispute he had been called to help settle had ended with him getting a substantial, if odd, payment. But it had thoroughly exhausted him and he just wanted to go home now.

At the end of the street, Walker saw shapes under a dim light at the end of the corner. They were walking slowly in the middle of the street. Someone had ran ahead of them shouting. He had heard shouting for the past hour he had been waiting. Was there some sort of protest going on? Was that why the bus was late? People taking to the streets and blocking traffic. Walker threw his hands in the air. Of course, of all times, tonight would be the night they would choose to block all the traffic.

A man came walking out of an alley closer to Walker. He turned towards Walker, observing him for a moment. Walker awkwardly smiled and waved to try and be polite. The man kept walking over to him. Walker couldn’t help notice that the man’s clothes were torn and his eyes were glossed over. And the man currently looked less hygienic than Walker at the moment. He was clearly on some sort of hallucinogen. Walker began to be afraid that the man was going to try and hurt him during this altered state of mind.

“I-I think I’ll just stay over here if you don’t mind,” Walker said crossing the street, heading towards a store on the opposite side. No cars were coming, so no one would mind if he jaywalked a little bit.

Walker shook his head. Drug addicts, protesters, rioters. Could the day could get any worse? He didn’t want to deal with this nonsense. If the bus was late, he could wait for it just as well in a convenience store as he could in the street.

When Walker stepped into the store, he noted that whoever was supposed to be running the shop was out. The only other person in the shop was a woman currently raiding the refrigerators for every bottle of cold coffee. It was already odd enough that she was stuffing all of the refrigerator’s contents into a backpack that seemed to double as a cooler. The fact that the woman also seemed to be an agent of Plasma, a nominal agent of the law, made the situation stranger. When she was down to the last bottle, she cracked it open and chugged the thing down, right in the middle of the store.

Walker was appalled at this flagrant disrespect for the rules of commerce. He stood there sputtering at the display when the woman stood up and made for the door. However the woman apparently couldn’t hear him from where she was.

“Oy, are you going to pay for any of that?” Walker called after the woman.

For the first time, the woman turned to look at Walker. Her face was not that of guilt or anger at being called out, but rather confusion.

“Pay?” the woman replied. “Have you looked outside?”

Now it was Walker’s turn to be confused. “Outside? What does the outside have to do with-”. At that point, Walker made the obvious realization. “Oh, I get it. You’re taking advantage of the protests to do some looting. That’s what’s going on here. Aren’t you an officer of the law. You should down right ashamed of yourself.”

“Protests?” the looter spat back. “Get your head out of your butt, there are zombies out there.”

“Zombies?” Walker said, scoffing at the very idea of it. “Really? The best excuse you could come up with is zombies?”

The looter was becoming agitated. She tossed the now empty bottle into a trash can and pulled out a second one from her backpack. She chose to chug it down as well before she would even attempt to speak to Walker again.

“There are zombies right outside! There is chaos in the streets! How do you not know this?!” she yelled with the second bottle more than half empty.

Walker couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “I have been waiting outside for the greater part of the last hour, I think I would know if there zombies out-”

The looter pulled Walker back, catching Walker off-guard. In the doorway was the man who Walker might’ve ducked into the store to avoid. Walker felt quite awkward about the situation. Did the man in his drugged out state think he recognized Walker? Was it because he waved? Did the man actually recognize him and Walker had completely forgotten his face? These questions were cut short however, when the looter pulled out a gun and shot the man before he could take another step.

Walker was completely flabbergasted. After a few moments, he regained control of his body. “That’s police brutality!” he yelled at her. Even if the man wasn’t in his right mind, even if it was during a protest, he didn’t deserve to be shot. He ran over to the man to check whether or not he was still alive. The man had been shot right in the chest, and the wound was almost certainly fatal. But he had to know for certain.

He leaned over to check on the body. The amount of blood pouring from the wound was certainly fatal on its own, regardless of what the shot had actually hit. Anger was welling up in Walker. It was welling up, up until the point the body lurched to life and grabbed his legs. As it made to bite Walker, a figure leaped off of Walker’s head. The Kecleon turned visible as it slammed the man’s head from above.

In a panic, Walker slammed the door on the man’s head several times, as the Kecleon jumped out of the way. The Plasma agent rushed over and unloaded another shot directly into the man’s head, and the body finally came to a halt. Walker took in the horrifying moment, and the realization dawned that if this wasn’t a zombie, then he had just helped someone murder a homeless person. And when provided with those two options, he decided he’d rather believe he was in the apocalypse than a cowardly murderer.

“Okay, never mind. Zombies you said?”

[Parugi]

Scenario 2 - ​IC - Plasma Knight Josh Dreyer - Streets, Black City:

"All civilians: Remain calm and head to the nearest evacuation zone immediately."

Black City. The capital of Unova. Home to Plasma Castle, the stronghold of Team Plasma itself. Though militant in its own right, it was never chaotic--order was its strength, strictly structured constructs of law directing the populace in the day to day. Little trouble. Smooth operations. An ideal microcosm of process and efficiency.

It was chaotic now.

"All civilians: Remain calm and head to the nearest evacuation zone immediately."

The words fell, low and even, from the mouth of Plasma Knight Josh Dreyer, into the receiver attached to his console and finally blaring out through the cruiser's loudspeaker. The words bounced against walls and asphalt and back again, echoing through the streets as his vehicle slowly pushed its way forward. The vehicle's light bar bathed the surrounding masses of people, Pokémon, debris, and monsters in alternating red and blue. Above the screams and shouts and roars and the tearing of metal and the crumbling of stone, the words called out again and again:

"All civilians: Remain calm and head to the nearest evacuation zone immediately."

The words fell again and again, but he wasn't sure why he even bothered to speak them at this point. He didn't heed them himself. The people around him did not.

Certainly, the monsters did not.

"All civilians: Remain calm and . . ." Dreyer faltered, dropping his hand with the receiver into his lap. He sighed, fighting the horror in his chest. He lifted the receiver to his mouth again. "Remain calm and head to the nearest evacuation zone immediately. All civilians: Remain calm and--"

A horrible screeching noise cut him off. It came from the right side, down the intersection he had just arrived at; he turned just in time to see a parked car suddenly collapse under the weight of a large, vehicular centaur. The thing groaned as its treads crushed metal and rock beneath it, grinding forward. Around it, a group of those zombie creatures had gathered, trudging forward. Some occasionally split off to chase after nearby, fleeing citizens, but even as they did so they were just as quickly replaced by more of their kind. The receiver slipped from Dreyer's hand as he watched the group's advance. The flashing lights seemed to draw attention from the Instances. As a dozen of the zombies turned and started toward his vehicle, moving faster than he had expected them to, the creature raised the cannon that composed its right arm. Dreyer swore, fumbling for the door handle and kicking it open. He rolled out of the car just as an explosive Ember slammed into the passenger-side door, shattering the window in an explosion of glass.

Dreyer scrambled to his feet. The zombies were gaining ground, gnawing and mashing their teeth as the dead lungs echoed out with meaningless moans of escaping breath. Some moved around the car; others began to climb it, seeming not to notice the growing flames encompassing it. All were focused on getting to Dreyer.

He knew better than to stick around.

Unholstering his service pistol, he turned tail and ran, ducking into the nearest alleyway. It was fenced off. He climbed over it as quickly as he could, ignoring the rip of his jeans as it caught on the top of the fence.

Black City was gone. In its place, only a nightmare remained.

[Konuju]

IC: Miles Frost/Rachel Brown - Streets, Black City
Miles traveled closely behind the Plasma woman. She had become focused on her Xtransceiver's map, speaking only to alert Miles to a nearby group of creatures. Miles clutched his towel rack like a lifeline, but thanks to Rachel's navigational skills they were able to avoid any more incidents.

The woman's Sawsbuck remained on high alert, tapping his hoof on the ground whenever they neared a zombie horde. Miles had to wonder if the Pokémon's heightened senses helped him detect their undead enemies. Rachel's Minccino, on the other hand, had so far proven little more than an accessory. From her perch on Rachel's shoulder, the fluffy Pokémon looked like she was better suited to emotional support than battle. Miles chose not to comment, considering his current emotional support was a towel rack.

Rachel paused at the end of an alley and pointed to a small one story building nestled between skyscrapers. The structure looked completely out of place in the metropolis but the Plasma agent didn't seem to mind. "We're here."

Miles stared at the small, inconspicuous building for a moment. "Are the skyscrapers around it supposed to hide us from the zombies?" But Rachel was already halfway across the street.

Shattered windows were the first sign something was off. The pair cautiously stepped through a splintered door, shards of glass crunching beneath their feet. Flickering lights greeted them in what had once been a lobby. Blood stained the walls, and the floor was strewn with plastic foliage and scraps of paper. A filing cabinet behind the front desk had been overturned. The computer had been smashed to pieces.

"Something tells me your safe house has been compromised." Miles knelt down to pick up a Stufful bobblehead from the floor.

The moment she stepped into the lobby, Rachel had brought a hand to her mouth. She remained motionless, taking in the destruction before her. Minccino crooned nervously while Sawsbuck down the hallways on either side of the desk. "We're too late . . ." she muttered. Then without warning, the woman ran off down the left hall.

"Hey, wait up!" Miles cried as he and Sawsbuck ran after her. "Can you please explain what's going on here?" The Season Pokémon quickly caught up to its trainer, but Miles found himself lagging further behind.

Several doors lined both sides of the hallway, most of them open. Rachel and Sawsbuck had made a beeline down the hallway, ignoring the doors. As Miles started after them, something leaped out of the first entryway and tackled him to the ground.

"You have got to be kidding me!" the man cried as rotting teeth chomped down inches from his nose. In desperation Miles lifted his feet and kicked the creature off of him. The monster groaned as it struck the opposite wall and tried to regain its footing. Miles swung his towel rack in an arc, bringing it down repeatedly on the creature's face. "I have had it with these freaking zombies trying to tackle me like it's Friday night football! Why don't you go to Nimbasa, you freaking undead linebackers!" By the time Miles finished his rant, the creature had been thoroughly dismembered and Rachel was nowhere to be seen. Guttural zombie-like sounds echoed further down the hall. Cursing under his breath, Miles ran down the hall in search of the Plasma woman.

He would have missed her had it not been for the giant Sawsbuck standing next to her. She was in one of the rooms, sitting on a bed, her face buried in her hands. Now that Miles got a better look, the room was like a small apartment. A tiny kitchen area led into a bedroom that held just enough room for a single bed and what looked like a dog bed off to the side. Before Miles could speak he saw a nameplate on the door.

H. Brown

Suddenly everything clicked into place. Refrigerator magnets held dozens of pictures portraying a young redheaded girl in various stages of her childhood. From school plays to towering playgrounds, the refrigerator told a story all its own. Miles found his eyes drawn toward the photo in the center. The young girl, now a young woman, stood in graduation robes -- high school, according to the emblem behind her -- alongside an elderly woman. The redhead had a joyous grin on her face, while the older woman looked incredibly proud.

Miles looked over his shoulder at Rachel. The Plasma uniform made her look more mature and her flowing hair seemed to be a lighter red but she was still recognizable as the girl in the pictures. It was only now that he realized she was crying.

He approached the bed awkwardly. Sensing his intent, the Sawsbuck bowed his head and backed away. The Minccino looked up at him expectantly. Taking a deep breath, Miles sat down next to the woman and folded his hands in his lap. "She was your grandmother, wasn't she?" he asked softly.

Rachel sniffled and nodded. "I was too late . . ."

"I'm sorry." It was all Miles knew to say. He couldn't help but think she might have made it in time if she hadn't stopped to help him. They sat there for a long moment, until sounds started coming from down the hall. Miles looked over at the Plasma officer. "Listen, we can't stay here."

Rachel wiped her eyes on her sleeve. "I know. I just . . . need a moment."

Something crashed out in the hall, causing both of them to jump. "We don't have a moment," Miles insisted with growing panic. "Not if you don't want your brains to get eaten!"

The Plasma agent stood up and scanned the room. "We can escape out the window," she said. "From there I'll try to find you someplace safe. Plasma's bound to have set up a refuge or evacuation point somewhere. I'll drop you off there and you'll be safe."

"What about you?" Miles met her emerald green eyes, which betrayed her surprise. He quickly amended the question. "I mean, aren't you going to stay where it's safe?"

The woman shook her head as she moved to unlatch the window. "I'm a Plasma agent. It's my duty to protect the city's people. If my superiors manage to find a way to eradicate these creatures, then I must offer my support."

Her words sounded hollow, as if she lacked the conviction to back them up. Miles gave her a hard look. "So you're just a Pawn," he said flatly.

"Excuse me?!" Rachel's eyes flashed with indignation. "Who do you think saved your sorry--"

"Now, now, let's not raise our voices." The two whirled around to find an elderly woman standing at the door. She looked far more frail than in the pictures and her hair had turned white and wispy, but her next words erased any doubt in Miles's mind. "I thought I heard your voice, Rachel. What are you doing out so late? Haven't you seen the news? It isn't safe out, dear."

[minun4]

IC: Walker Day/Beth Humble - Black City


The Plasma agent, who’s name Walker just learned was Beth, picked up her backpack and made for the door. Despite the fact that he accepted he was in the apocalypse now, Walker still wasn’t over the fact that Beth was looting.

“You still can’t just leave somewhere with stolen goods,” Walker said.

Beth shook her head, incredulous that Walker was still on about this. “Who cares? The world is ending, and I’m enjoying what little time I have while trying to survive.”

Walker looked at the counter and back at Beth. He knew that arguing with her further wasn’t going to accomplish much. He looked around, before opening his briefcase. He didn’t exactly have the cash on him to pay for Beth’s ‘purchase’ himself. Instead, he pulled out a coin and placed it on the counter.

The Plasma agent blinked several times in rapid succession when she saw what Walker put onto the counter.

“Is that… gold?” she said with a dumbfounded expression.

“Please don’t ask,” Walker said sheepishly.

Beth raised her finger to ask, but decided to lower it again. She shook her head and walked out the door. Walker plopped down a couple of extra pieces of gold from his briefcase before grabbing some snacks and placing them inside the briefcase. He was purchasing them, it wasn’t stealing.

“Where are you going?” Walker asked, as he ran out the door to follow her.

“I’m not staying for that to happen again. I’m getting the #### out of the city before I get turned into one of those things.”

Walker had a million questions. He had no idea what had caused this. He had no idea where they could even run to. He would have suggested hiding with the food they had just purchased, but Beth was right that they didn’t know if what happened to turn people into zombies would happen again.

“Well we need a plan, or we’re not going to survive long.”

“Then come up with something.”

Fair. Walker looked around. There were no zombies in sight just yet. He had a moment to think. He kept looking around. His eyes stopped on a sign.

“We go south.”

“South?” Beth said confused. “We can’t get out of the city to the south. Where are

“Think about it, we can get to the subway from there. If the subway is still running, we can get out easily that way. And if it isn’t we can still sneak along the tracks all the way to Undella town. There’s bound to be fewer zombies underground. Less people to transform.”

Beth scratched her head. The idea didn’t sound right. “I don’t know…”

“Well that’s what I’ve come up with. Do you have a better preferred direction?”

Fair. “Alright, alright,” Beth said, though her tone still didn’t sound convinced. “Let’s just get moving,” she said before turning to lead the way.

“After you,” Walker said as he made to follow.

[Parugi]

Scenario 2 - ​IC - Plasma Knight Josh Dreyer - Alley, Black City:

Whether by luck or by circumstance, Dreyer found himself again surrounded by silence. He didn't know if the monsters behind him had simply lost interest or had been stopped by the fence--if he had to bet, he didn't think the latter was likely--but for now, it seemed that they were far behind him. All that could hear now were the distant sounds of a dying city.

A city he needed to get away from. But how?

Dreyer sighed, pulling a Poké Ball off of his belt and lobbing it into the air. With a flash of light, a Chatot emerged. The bird sung a happy, oblivious little tune as she flew in a small circle before coming to rest on a nearby trashcan.

"Hey, girl," Dreyer said. "I need you to scout ahead and make sure I'm not walking into a bloodbath. Can you do that?" The Chatot nodded. "If you hear anything that sounds like people, let me know--I don't like the idea of navigating alone, and I like the idea of leaving people behind even less."

"Roger, roger!" the Music Note Pokémon squawked. She flapped her wings, taking flight climbing up above the surrounding buildings. A moment later, she returned, gesturing down one alleyway. "This way! This way!"

With a quick check to ensure his gun was loaded, Dreyer followed. Chatot led him down a quiet alleyway, toward another fence. For a moment, he feared that this was the same one he had jumped previously, but as he approached, Dreyer could tell that it was a different street--a completely different store front peered at him from the opposite side of the street. Just as he reached the fence, a man and a woman appeared from the store, talking quietly but urgently to one another. He held a briefcase; she wore a Plasma uniform much like Dreyer's.

"Hey!" he called. Dreyer jiggled the fence slightly, before carefully finding some footholds and beginning to climb it. "Wait up!"


Scenario 2 - ​IC - Civilian Keith Strand/Civilian Petra Vaccaro/Civilian Peter Marx - Streets, Black City:

Two men and a woman ran down the street. Behind them, six walking corpses shuffled after them. This was not an unusual situation in any zombie fiction--in fact it was very textbook--but it did not make the chase any less terrifying. The worst part was that these were not the only six zombies out and about. As they turned onto a new street, hoping to give their pursuers the slip, they found themselves on a street dotted with more and more of the creatures. There was nothing for it, though--they had to go forward, and so they did, darting and dodging the creatures where they could. As more of the creatures noticed them, beginning their own pursuit and joining up with the others, it became clear that the living were losing ground.

Somehow, this horde was gaining speed as they gained numbers.

They counted thirty now. They were matching the speed of the trio they were pursuing.

"Keep running!" the woman called between gasps. "Keep! Running!"

One of the men--a darker-skinned individual--glanced back. "Running's not working!" he hissed back. "Gotta find--somewhere inside--to get--away--!" He looked back again at the other man. "Pete, keep up, man!"

"I'm . . . I'm trying!" Peter gasped. "I--!" He yelped as his foot caught on something, causing him to stumble and fall. The man and woman slowed, beginning to double back and help him. As they moved, however, the horde moved faster--Peter could only raise his hands, calling out desperately as his vision was suddenly blocked out by dozens of hands and teeth that tore at him.

There was little to do but leave him behind, as others in the horde continued after the man and woman.

A short distance down the street, they came upon a nursing home of some sort. The door was cracked open. The woman grabbed the man's shoulder, pulling him toward it. The door slammed open--too loudly--before they forced it closed behind them. As the man pushed against it to ensure it remained closed, the woman ran into the nearest room, pulling out whatever furniture she could find to try and barricade the door. Fists pounded against the door from the outside, but to their relief, the passage remained blocked. Soon, they had put together a makeshift barrier that dampened the noises coming from outside.

"Fucking hell," the man gasped. "I can't believe they got him . . ."

"We can't worry about Pete right now, Keith," the woman said. "We gotta get out of here before they get through--I really don't think we have a lotta time here!"

"You're right, you're right," Keith said. He took some deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. "Come on--gotta be a way out somewhere around here."

They pushed further into the building. It did not take long for them to run into something unusual: Rounding a corner, they found themselves face to face with an older woman, who appeared to be addressing someone else in a nearby room. Instantly, the two skidded to a halt, screaming in surprise.


Scenario 2 - ​IC - Plasma Sage Gorm/Zinzolin/Giallo/Rood; Plasma Rook Kravits/Barton/Sartore - Stairwell, Plasma Castle:

Normally, passage to and from the Council Chamber was made via elevator. With age catching up to many of the Sages and the chamber located so high in the castle, this was much easier for them to handle than the alternative stairwell. On this occasion, however, the elevator was out of the question. By and large, power remained active, but they could not risk a sudden failure trapping them in such a confined space.

Thus, three Rooks and four Sages made their way down an emergency stairwell, their steps thundering in the ominously-dark tower as they circled further and further down. Aside from the sound of boots against concrete, this place was largely quiet--it was as if they had removed themselves entirely from the outside world. As they passed doors at each landing, they could hear the horrors unfolding beyond--screams as workers were attacked by their newly-zombified compatriots; gun shots and shouts as guards did their best to contain the situation; and the occasional roars and screams of creatures whose visages the group could only imagine.

They had descended a good twelve or thirteen floors when they encountered the roadblock. It was impossible to tell exactly what had happened, but somehow, the stairwell past this point had collapsed. Shards of red, gem-like stones had embedded themselves in the wall, and scorch marks covered much of the surrounding concrete. Here and there were charred remains of . . . something. They could only be described as bits of flesh. At this point, their origin was impossible to determine, so Kravits did not even bother to try. Instead, he spared a moment to scan the shattered stairs, peering over the edge. No luck. While they could theoretically manage a jump across, whatever had broken these steps had fallen through several more sets below. There was no telling how far it had fallen--or whether the fall had even managed to kill the creature, either.

He turned, waving a hand over the heads of the Sages toward Sartore, who guarded the back of the group. "No good--head back up and through the next landing."

"We can't go higher!" Giallo yelped. He clutched tightly to Barton, who somehow was managing not to roll her eyes at the situation--Kravits couldn't help but envy her patience. "We need to get out!"

"Out is up," Rood snapped. "Unless you want to risk a jump in those robes?"

"I . . ." Giallo considered the situation. "Yes, no--up. Out is up. Up is good. Let's go up."

"Alright, then go," Kravits ordered. Once they were further up the stairs, he pushed his way back to the front of the group. They came to a stop at the next door. "Sartore and I will go first and make sure the hall is clear. Wait for my signal to follow through."

"Understood," Sage Gorm said. "Proceed carefully, my son."

Kravits placed his hand on the door handle, using the other to tightly grip the ceremonial mace he had taken from Summers's corpse. After exchanging a nod with Sartore, he pushed through, the Red Rook following closely behind him. They emerged into a scene straight out of a nightmare--a short, darkened hallway that opened up into a room filled with what had previously been precisely-organized work spaces. A single light sparked on the hallway ceiling, filling the room with partial light before flickering off every so often. A dead body, torn open at the stomach, lay motionless against the wall to the left. Beyond, more corpses littered the office space, where blood had been spilt across numerous spots on the floor and the surrounding desks and monitors. Some of the bodies, like the first, were wounded as if by creatures; others lay still with the tell-tale holes left by bullets. Here and there, a body lay with what looked like electrical burns and no other damage--an observation that Kravits was not quite sure how to interpret.

Carefully, he stepped forward. Part of him expected the nearest corpse to lurch at him, but it remained still. Behind him, Sartore raised a Poké Ball, releasing her Scyther. As they entered the abandoned office space, they came to a halt, peering carefully through the darkness. And as they came to a halt, focusing on what they could see and hear, they became aware of the low, sorrowful moans emanating around the room.

The door popped shut behind them.

Twelve humanoid heads turned in their direction, milky eyes glinting in what little light illuminated the room.