Search results

Zekrom nodded. "Knowing your limits is a good thing, too. Even we have limits, no matter how old we are." She drifted left to continue circling around Destiny Village. "I heard about your world. I'm very sorry for the circumstances you've come from." She nodded. "And thank you for lending a hand...

"Well, at least you're honest about it," Zekrom said, and there was practically a sweat drop going down her forehead. "Though, you handle yourself well against the Blacklight if that's really how it goes. That power normally feeds and amplifies those feelings."

Zekrom giggled. "Well, bread is bland because it's meant to go with many things," she explained to Bahamut. "It isn't as if I can be specific with something that drives my whole being."

Zekrom smiled a little. She was probably asked that question a lot. Cola peeked out from within the bag, wondering if she saw him. "Something to strive for," she replied simply.

Zekrom did show a small shift, like she was conflicted about something. A tension. But she was oddly open otherwise, like she would be easy to read for mundane things. "Oh, well, I think I do," Zekrom said. "That was a glitch, and Chip knew about it. He had been using it for other matters... but...

"For work?" Zekrom tilted her head, eyes trailing into the bag where Cola's wispy figure tried to shrink even further. "Well, I'm the head of Destiny Village's ethics commission. It's not very often, but when something truly controversial makes its way up to the top of the system, I'm the one...

"Bahamut!" Zekrom replied in her usual, cheerful tone. "So good to see you! On a leisure flight as well?" Cola shrank down and decided to say nothing. Whether he was considering Bahamut's words or not was a mystery. There was an electrical crackle to a lot of Zekrom's flight patterns, and she...

Cola was curled up around the inert Ultra Stone in silence, huffing. "...It's dumb," he said. "How come he couldn't just make a new god entirely? It haaaad to be himself? Talk about ego." The irony that he was criticizing, technically, himself, was lost on him. Bahamut was not alone in the...

"Anybody spying on S'more would need to be stealthy about it," Owen said. "I'm good at interrogating, but I don't know if stealth is my best in close quarters like the Guild... Plus, we're going to be moving to our new homes soon, right?" He sighed. "Whatever. Just pick someone! Soda, how about...

Soda looked Vix over as if he'd actually been considering the proposal, looking her up and down, evaluating. His claws made subtle gestures as if sizing up what it could do with that waxy body. Then, he shrugged and said, "Well, anyway, what're we planning, then?" "Who's in charge of the...

"You don't think we already did that?" Soda said, frowning. "Karat read everyone's mind, but even Karat isn't perfect. You never know if there's a way to hide stuff from that. Hell, I can. Truffle can. Mind reading is one of those things you gotta train to avoid for powerful foes when you're...

"Mmmhm." Soda crossed his arms, skeptical. "And how do you expect me to do that, again?" he said to Mellow. "I'm not Bean. Send me to one person and I'll make sure I'm on the guy and they won't even know. Assuming Maple doesn't go off and assign me somewhere. But, S'more... now you're talking."...

"Ehh, forget it." Soda shook it off. "I overreacted a little, too. It's whatever. But let me just narrow down your options real quick: I don't think it's Leg or Flesh. I mean, look at them. Flesh is about as stealthy as a tree in the desert, and Leg's barely able to speak. She's easy to read...

Leg's pinpricks of light for eyes glimmered again. She bounced, hopping from Cynthian to one of the piles of dolls and then to another. "Khh! Yes!" She hopped again, burrowing into the pile of plushies. She poked her disguise's head out, and then plunged back in. "Play!"

Leg flinched. She wasn't expecting that. She also didn't know that Cynthian would feel that way, in a sense. They were friends, yes, but... Would Cynthian be able to remember her? "...I will, too." Leg quivered a little. "Khhh... Will always... Re... remember."

"Well, who's your top suspect?" Soda asked. "You know, aside from the master of illusions Zoroark." Owen winced. He didn't need Perceive to feel that bitterness. "We don't even know where to begin. I feel horrible suspecting anybody..." He looked hopefully toward the others for a clue or...

"'Cuz it's cool," Soda replied flatly, rolling his eyes. Owen paused, as if there would be more in reply. But Soda wasn't continuing. Seeing the silent audience, the Zoroark stared back. "...What?"

Leg looked like she was seriously considering it, slithering--did she slither?--around and around before finally stopping. She didn't look like she wanted to put it on just then--perhaps her kind had a means or ritual of some kind to break in--but she still quietly said, "...Love..."

Leg slid toward the gift next, looking at the ribbons before, without much restraint, tearing it open from the top like a hungry predator. She hopped up and peered inside.

The Mimikyu skittered around Cynthian, then the doll, poking and prodding it to test the material. By the end of the inspection, she seemed pleased, bouncing left and right while the false head of her disguised bobbed with her motions. She moved it to the side of the pile and started pushing...