( june event ) who's that pokemon?

[officialnotice]

EVENT: WHO'S THAT POKEMON?

For the residents of Wayward Pines, the 19th is just your typical boring Monday. The sun is shining. The birds are chirping.

Until suddenly, they're not.

That's the first sign. Maybe you don't even notice — you're far too busy with your nine-to-five, or maybe even by poolside, blissfully ignorant to the trouble brewing just out of sight, or to the fact that SPF 15 is basically just water anyway. Or maybe you aren't quite so lucky. You notice the birds have gone silent. You feel the eyes upon you, unseen but still raising goosebumps on the back of your neck.

And then from the woods, that telltale scream.

No, two screams, then three, then five, then more than a dozen. You can't count them, can't figure out which direction they're coming from. It's like they're all around you now. Even above you. Now you spot them on the rooftops — god, they're huge, you can't even fathom how they made it up there unnoticed.

But they're not playing at stealth anymore. One leaps off the roof, a single fluid bound on long thick limbs, and barely lands on the sidewalk for a moment before it lunges at the nearest person — your neighbor mowing his lawn, or maybe the woman carrying that armful of bags out of French's Grocery — long claws slicing through their flesh like a hot knife through butter. Then comes another, and another. Into the streets, the backyards, and the ill-timed pool parties, tearing through every living soul they can find.

By nightfall, the creatures have retreated back into the woods en masse, but anyone foolish enough to wander too far from the safety of their homes runs the risk of being picked off one by one if they're not careful. The 20th and 21st follow a similar pattern; during the day, the Sheriff and a team of volunteers comb through the woods looking for survivors, and during the night, these creatures do much the same.

The morning of the 22nd dawns with the last of the vicious "murder potatoes" (as Linda had hysterically dubbed them on the first day while wielding a butcher's knife with astonishing proficiency) have fallen, and the danger is gone.

For now, anyway. The questions they leave behind, however? Those are here to stay.

MOD NOTES

This is a catch-all for any and all threads pertaining to the Who's That Pokemon event! It covers the battle on the 19th and the lingering danger over the course of the 20th and 21st.

PLEASE INCLUDE IN YOUR TOP-LEVEL SUBJECT LINE: Character Name, date, location, and open or closed, to help keep things a bit more organized.

If you have any questions regarding this event, feel free to ask them here!

Comments

b → d

[paragon]

[ Though the fight's had them necessarily far spread, Steve's kept a tether between his people, as much as possible making it more strategic than spread thin. He keeps their last locations mapped in his head and makes his way back around to them as he fights, a constant splitting and regrouping. It would be foolish not to fight together as much as possible — they know each other, how to amplify strengths and shore up weaknesses, how to anticipate each other, something he believes sticks as instinct even where memory fails — but he also has the occasional suggestion for which direction they might move in, where others could use their help.

He's done this especially with Wanda — is doing it now, slipping low through an alley between two buildings, aware of the creatures focused on her from above. It's a matter of the experience she hasn't had as much chance with him to hone into that instinct, rather than any doubt in her abilities, which he's about to prove whether she'll thank him for it later or not. He straightens as he reaches the sidewalk with the shield held lightly in his fingers, hefting it in the split second before it flies through the air, ricocheting off of a throat, a head, a car door before it comes back to him, distracting them from her. He shouts as he reaches up to snatch it back into his hand. ]

Wanda! Put me on the roof!

[ Not just like they practiced — there's been no practice here, and there's no time now to ask if she's up to it. But in truth he wouldn't be inclined to anyway. She can, and so he won't allow for doubt on either of their parts. ]

[magija]

[ She might die, that much is inevitable. But that was always the risk as a fighter, what she'd learn on the ruins of Sokovia, a country that became the entity of an entire grave. It was there that she'd learn what fighting to protect truly meant, from Clint, who'd reminded her that this was a duty in being an Avenger, and Steve, who'd echoed the words in their eyes: you get killed, walk it off.

Those words ring even now, even in the face of possible death. She'd fight until she could move no more, and even then, she'd push forward to see this through.

But as if the memory brought in a timely entrance, she sees the red, white, and blue of a familiar shield, flying and halting the incoming creatures that attempt to pounce towards her. With a gasping breath, her head spins around to see him making his way into the street.

The roof — it's been done before. She remembers. Vague memories still, but it's one of the better ones, the way they'd all had learned to move together in sync, to bring out the best of their individual abilities and bring it together as one.

Quickly, she waves her arms in his direction, red lights fluttering through the air and to his waist, wrapping around his legs. The energy strengthens to pick up his weight, all his extra serumed pounds, lifting him up towards the building's roof. ]