Poké-Venture
Round 4: Coming to A Close
It wasn't long before Dustin regained consciousness. His head swimming to the point where he briefly thought he was on the ceiling, he had a hard time getting to his paws. When he did, he promptly fell back on the ground, the stinging that was rising to his shoulders reminding him that he couldn't feel them. Limbs easily picked him up so he could sit up. Dustin looked up. When he caught sight of the lizard's thin frown, the 'thank you' died on his lips. Just as quickly, a knot began to form in his stomach. Something was missing.
he breathed. Blinking to clear the haze from his eyes, Dustin look
Poké-Venture
Round 3: One Step Ahead
Aqua took a step back.
The Meowth whirled towards her and traded an incredulous look, though the sudden move made a bolt of pain run though his back. Biting back a hiss, he grounded out,
Still he felt his companion back up, her large tail now sweeping the floor in agitation. Aqua laid her ears low and tensed the vocal chords within her throat in preparation for a Hydro Pump. Dustin only growled in frustration and leaned forward, unconsciously digging his claws into the Vaporeon's neck. Aqua hissed, stopped, and threw him a glare.
she snapped.
The familiar took a deep breath, wishing he had hand
Poké-Venture
Round 2: The Happenings of the Ruins
It was creepier without Angela, Dustin hated to admit. The thought made him scoff incredulously, but it didn't take him long to sink into the sad realization. Dustin once again scoffed, yet this time the sound was soft and lost within the tunnel of the Ruins of Alph. The tunnel was dark despite his excellent night vision. He could see the walls around him as clear as day, but for some reason, they seemed faded, out of focus. The writing, the same scripture as the not-letters that attacked them, seemed to mock him and dance whenever he snapped his head to either side, sure that something
Poke-Venture
Round 1: Within the Walls of the Ruins
"So, what is this trip you were talking about?"
Dustin looked to his father and felt a nervous lump form at his throat. He hated lying to his parents, but looking at his father (his police officer of a father) in the eye while doing so made his stomach churn in apprehension. The teenager swallowed and ran a hand through his mismatched black and violet hair before straightening in his seat. Across the dinner table his mother also awaited his words, ever the patient woman. Through it all the clock above the fireplace mantle in the living room sounded with ominous tick-tocks, as though quiet