Fighting has never been foreign to Remoor. The citizens of Remoor have never been concerned with outside troubles, after all; they had enough of their own. For years these troubles were swept underneath tourist grins, and happy words. The region’s dirty secrets were recently drug into the light.
Now, the world may as well have ended. The war between two mighty powers has destroyed everything in its path. Mewtwo, who some from Kanto and Johto might remember, has converted back to his human hating ways.
The other force, the Pravus Corporation, is owned by its multi-millionaire president [and headed by the council]; seeks only power, for themselves. Pravus knows nothing of restraint, and with the powers of science on their side they showed it.
The result ? :
The once beautiful region, packed with life, is now a destroyed mass of abandoned cities, and toxic fogs. Even the brave Nada Citadel is slowly rotting away, corruption and paranoia are slowly tearing its foundations to shreds. The entire region is a museum to the horror of war, and a prime example of Armageddon.
But the region has not drew its final breath quite yet:
The newly created group of the Rangers seeks nothing but to rid the world of Pravus, and return Remoor to its former glory. The group however, is slowly corrupting from the inside out, morphing into a different version of their enemy. To kill a monster, it often takes one, will the rangers become a reflection? Or will they retreat back to the moral high ground?.
The road is long and tough. Where it eventually ends is up to you.
An Open Thread « Thread Started on Oct 8, 2009, 9:16pm »
Graveyards. Alastor had been around these before, but those times it was job related. This time he had came to such a place on other business, business such as being alone. Or at least he had hoped that he could be alone in such a place. He wanted to be away from people, and Pokemon in general. Out of boredom, he slumped down on a gravestone and grabbed Kabuto's Pokeball from his belt.
The ball was nearly as old as the Pokemon it's self. It was dusty, but the dust was attached to the ball and could not be brushed off. The ball had no shine to it whatsoever. Alastor attempted to brush it off before, but that had not ended so greatly. He spent hours scrubbing it before finally giving up.
While dozed off in flashback, he accidentally dropped the Pokeball, setting off the release feature. In a flash of red light, a small shape of a brown shelled Pokemon came to life. It seemed to crack it's back, and use one of it's legs as a cane before standing up semi-straight.
"What do you want, younging? Back in my day, people didn't interrupt people so....so....umm....uhh.....so......rudely, yeah, that's the ummm word!" The Kabuto said in it's old raspy voice. He looked around with his beady red eyes, and began to wonder why he was in a graveyard, before spacing out again. And finally, falling asleep.
"You old coot......" Alastor whispered to himself, before looking away from the ancient sleeping Pokemon. He began to become lost in thought...
Re: An Open Thread « Reply #1 on Oct 11, 2009, 2:33pm »
"Kid, you find anything?" Christoph said as he crouched down, the palm of one of his hands and both feet on the ground while he read the name off of a tombstone. The young man looked worried when nobody answered, causing him to quickly dart his eyes around the rows upon rows of reminders of those who didn't make it during that war. "Come on Ray, this isn't funny... It's creepy enough we're in a graveyard..." the man said, a slight amount of hesitation and fear in his voice.
He'd been out here before. Once. It was back when he actively looked for his sister nearly every second he could spend on it. It looked the same all those months ago, really. Crude tombstones for the poor and decorations for the rich. Too bad underneath all that soil they were all the same; nothing but rotting corpses.
"No sign over here." a young Kirlia said in a rather effeminate voice as he jumped onto the tombstone Chris was looking at in order to sit down and make eye contact with his trainer.
Not the best of ideas.
"Holy shi-!" the human shouted as he took a swing in the direction of the personage that hadn't quite registered in his head with his hand that was at one time keeping his balance. This caused him to instead look like an idiot as he fell backwards onto the ground, wide-eyed and heart racing, at least until he realized it was his own Pokemon who had startled him. Laughing silently as he sighed in relief that it wasn't some kind of wild Pokemon that jumped him, he scratched the back of his head before saying in a hushed, slightly sarcastic tone, "Did you really have to pull that out here, kid? I mean, come on... At least wait to go back to the Citadel before we start scaring the shit out of me, Ray!" Ray merely shrugged before moving off of the tombstone so he could instead lean on the marker and only reminder of a mister Dakota Franklin.
"Arceus, this place is way too freaking big," Christoph muttered to himself as he jumped back up, dirt from his fall marking a few places on the back of his green polo shirt. "Poor guys, man... Thank Arceus I wasn't here when all this stuff was going down," he said as he turned to Ray, "Am I right, man?" Yet again, the psychic-type Pokemon simply shrugged.
"Well, whatever." Christoph said before walking down the path the tombstones made, continuing to glance at the stones he passed. His Pokemon followed, though he instead walked in the row to the left of his partner. As they walked, Chris would occasionaly stare off into space, apperently thinking of the person they had come to Remoor to find, whether or not she was alive. After one of his brief flashbacks, he looked to his left to see a man slumped on a tombstone. Why the hell would anyone else be out here? Especially if they were just going to lean on the graves of the dead. Of course, the skull-covered jacket and boots with way too many straps seemed to signal to Chris that the skull man wasn't exactly 'anybody.'
"Hay! Kid! You seen a 'Dakota Hayslip' around here?" Chris yelled to the other man in the graveyard, figuring that it would probably be better to see if someone else might know where, or if, her grave would be among the legions of stones. The wierd dressed guy could have just been an eccentric tombstone enthusiast or something.
Ray, on the other hand, sighed at his trainer's question. Why on earth would someone know if a complete stranger was buried in this place, with how large it was? Perhaps a better question: Why would someone who obviously didn't want to be bothered and dressed in strange clothing know where a complete stranger's final resting place was, and why would they tell Christoph of all people? And what did Christoph think this man was, some type of dead person enthusiast?