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Nate ignored the feraligatr. "He's a person," he snarled. "And you've been experimenting on him for hundreds of fucking years as part of some bullshit scheme of yours. And you're expecting me to cheer because now you're going to go out and do that to more people? Diyem wasn't making a hellworld...

"Oh, well that's great," Nate said, ignoring all the blah blah blah about mercy killings and everything being corrupted and all that speculative bullshit. The team always won anyway, who gave a fuck. "Love that. Guy comes in and cleans up some mess that you didn't even want to fucking touch...

Nate clanked his bottle against Starr's glass, then downed the last of his beer, setting the empty bottle aside with a sigh. He settled back in his chair, trying to ignore the attention the other tables were still putting on the curry bowl winners, and said, "Well, what can I say? Guess we won't...

Nate came wheezing up the street almost twenty minutes after the first telepathic messages had come out. Rocky followed close behind, but the familiar was somehow larger than usual, bloated with half-dissolved chunks of meat and ghostly clumps of rice that all sloshed back and forth as he moved...

Oh, I don't know, just thought it might be nice to get a clue who the Overseers in the audience are so we can maybe catch them prepping something instead of being caught off-guard. Or so we'll know who we gotta watch out for if we have to run. Little things like that. But whatever. Guess I'm...

Fuck's sake. Why can't shit ever go down when I'm at least on the right fucking continent?

Welcome to the forums! It's always nice to see another fan of PMD--I think you'll fit right in here. We also have plenty of data analysts and other computer-type people, so feel free to vent about programming nonsense any time; we feel your pain! It's cool that you're running a PMD-flavor TTRPG...

Goddamn. Hey, shitty mightyena! You close enough to sniff out any of those alien fucks?

You know who this guy usually works with? If you tell us what mons to look for, maybe we can figure out where the rest went.

Of course he fucking would. Diyem! Are you all right?

"I bet," Nate said, still grinning. "Must have been an experience, though, huh? Not something you could pull off as a human." At least he hoped not. Jesus. Rocky was accosting the photographer to get his own picture taken, still with all the rice and veggies and reddish sauce floating around in...

Nate smirked again and leaned as far as he could away from the table, doing everything he could to make sure he wasn't in the frame. "Big smile now," he said. "You've gotta make up the slack for Bahamut, right?"

Nate laughed, and Rocky sullenly shoved the last little bit of his curry into his mouth. "Yeah, I figure you gotta be feeling that," Nate said with a smile. "Impressive as shit. Lucky you're an incineroar, huh? Bet you wouldn't have had much luck as a human. Tack that one onto your list of...

Nate nodded. "That's good. I know you ain't gonna let nobody get up to nothing shady." How much could Diyem do about it, though? Hopefully blowing up the Blacklight (...again? There were two Diyems? How the fuck did that work?) would give him some cred with the Overseers, despite the whole...

"What?!" Rocky whirled back towards his bowl, staring at Starr in dismay. "But that's--that's not fair! Marshtomp was distracting me!" "I dunno if it was fair for you to challenge Starr in the first place, given that you don't even need to take time to, you know, chew or swallow or any of...

"Yeah. Real reassuring." Nate slowly folded his arms. "I was just wondering whether those Overseers might decide they wanted to, you know, experiment on it. Given history and all. Would kinda suck to friendship the hell out of the eternatus or whatever it is and then hand it over to some people...