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At her first question, Hoopa managed a nod. "He must have started calling himself... that, after he disguised himself as me." "Xavian? No.... But Clink.... Yes. They're this universes Gatekeeper. A Klefki. But I don't know them very well..." its gaze dropped. "It's been so long..." As Wes...

At the mention of the name, it drew back in fear and quickly shook its head. "No. Not... not me. A lie." It squeezed its eyes shut. "Name... name is not mine, my visage was stolen. Not my name." It shook its head again. "My name... my name just Hoopa." "The Golden King," it stammered weakly...

The bottle opened with some difficulty, as if it hadn't been touched, much less opened in many years... It finally gave way and a strange, ghostly sort of energy coalesced from the bottle, pooling on the floor and shifting... Changing into a shape of some kind... The shape and the colors...

The chest clicked open to reveal a single object. Something that looked almost like a vase or a bottle of some kind. The top was long and narrow and almost looked like a Hoopa face, whilst the bottom was circular and a gray color with gold rings. The eyes of the bottle give anyone who gazes...

The hatch opened to reveal a small cubby, only perhaps the size of a Bulbasaur. Inside say three nearly empty jars, filled with some kind of liquid. One gray, one dark pinkish, and one yellow. Three brushes stained the same colors lay inside as well, and the smell of dye from before was stronger...

Inside was a small cubby, perhaps just big enough to a fit a small pokemon with a little bit of wiggle room, but too small for any human. And inside sat a single object. A small metal chest with a keyhole. It wasn't a very large chest, perhaps the size of a breadbox. Plain, no decorations, and...

There didn't appear to be anything suspicious on the cot. The wall however... high enough up on the wall there was a small patch where the it felt just a bit thinner. Perhaps a hatch? Maybe there was a way to move it... Unfortunately, there didn't seem to be any buttons or latches. But if this...

In the whole room, only one thing stood out. A smudge of gray on the corner of a table, a very tiny smudge. As if someone had brushed against it and not realized. Unfortunately, of all the many oddities and souvenirs on the shelves, none of them seemed to resemble anything like a prison bottle...

The office room was surprisingly bare at first glance. A few papers on the desk, the computer, and the bookshelf. The papers laying around on the desk seemed to be related to plans for the festival. Schedules, menus, and hastily scrawled ideas. A mention of both a tournament and a contest that...

"That sounds lovely! If they're ready, then I don't see why don't we head there now." He glanced over his shoulder. "Do you feel up to coming, Orzo?" After a moment, Orzo nodded. "Orzo will come, for a bit." "Wonderful!" Xavian declared. "We'll come with you right away then." "...yes I would...

Xavian's eyes widened slightly in surprise. "You wish to... repay me-?" he frowned, as if puzzled by the notion. "But I've-" ruined everything. Clink bumped his shoulder lightly, looking hopeful. Xavian shared a glance and a meaningful look from Clink of 'you should go'. He turned back to...

After a few moments, footsteps could be heard from inside approaching the door. It opened, revealing Xavian, Clink by his side and a short distance behind him, still perched on the couch, Orzo. He waved to Steven from his spot, still looking tired. "Ah, Steven! How are you today?" Xavian asked...

After the room had been discreetly scouted, the two ghost-types slipped out, with the room's inhabitants none the wiser. Spirit and Hazel returned to the relative safety of their trainers and passed on all they had seen. Now the rest was up to those who had agreed to try and break-in... and on...

The painting itself appeared ordinary enough, just a rather nice rendition of legendaries from different regions... No. Wait. Something wasn't right. Peering closer, there were odd marks on the painting. Slashes, almost, but as if someone had defaced the painting and then painted over it. And...

A moment later, Orzo emerged from the ring, first poking out his head and glancing around the room, then emerging from the ring smoothly. Compared to earlier, he at least seemed to be in good health, or feeling better. Once he emerged fully, the ring shrunk behind him and he spun it in the air...

Oddly enough, there were no footprints in the dust of the storage room... Down the other hallway were three rooms. The first seemed to be Clink's personal bedroom. Despite Clink's small size, it was still a pleasantly comfortable bedroom. A (very) small bed had been set up to one side, and much...

Of the three rooms, only the bathroom itself appeared used. It was a rather nice bathroom, clean and well kept, various fancy looking soaps arranged neatly on shelves. Nothing about it appeared very unusual and there didn't seem to be signs of anything strange. At first glance, the storage room...

Clink lay in their bed in the living room, resting, sleeping peacefully. Xavian sat on the couch beside them, eyes glued to a book they were reading, attention utterly focused on it. "The Myths that Define Us: Mythical Pokemon their Roles" read the title. The living room itself appeared plain...

Hazel had indeed found herself an old storage room, mostly unused - a few assorted odds and ends like lightbulbs and cleaning supplies. A perfect spot for recon. The sensation that returned was that of two minds - a human one, and a pokemon one. Likely Xavian, and judging by the distinct...

Xavian clenched the edge of the table, his knuckles turning white, as Steven placed the flower ever so gently on Clink's body. A pleasant scent seemed to drift from the flower and there was the slightest sensation like a fresh spring breeze, even with the windows closed. And then the flower...