genessia | Prankster poltergeists (Action, Open)

With the amount of time Porrim was spending in Everglade, maybe she should just move here. She'd thought that she'd like the mundanity of suburb life, but she'd misjudged how much she liked things happening.

And so here she was, checking out that ghost bounty with her trusty houndour, Barkbeast, by her side.

"Hello there, Ted. Investigating the trouble too?"

Porrim's uncanny appearances in the gloomy city weighed on Ted's mind too, as she arrived once again. "Hello yourself. Yes, unfortunately. Duty calls, and I dare not refuse. Come seeking glory? You're almost too interested in all this mischief. Not that I'm ungrateful; I haven't heard from our ironic wrongdoer in a while."

"It was a necromancer, actually. Targeting undead rights activists to harvest souls to throw a false trail. Quite a plot twist, really."

Barbeast was sniffing at the open doorway warily. "So are we going in?"

"How awful." Ted felt a little vindicated, there, having had his loathing of black magic confirmed many times over, but mostly appalled. "Are their, erm, souls free to go, now?"

Worrying about the eternal welfare of his ideological opponents was probably not the right attitude to bring into a haunted house.

"Decorating my office, dispatching my opponents. Goodness, I ought to just make you deputy now. Well, if you insist. But let me lead the way; it'll look better, for one." He put away his Squirtle, grateful that Barkbeast was more interested in the musty house than the contents of the shell.

As expected, there was not a light to be seen. "Of course it's pitch black. Should've predicted it." He fished around in his ever-present bag for a flashlight, then turned it on.

"Aah!" Ted yelped. The house looked like a haunt ought to, with creaky wooden floors and cobwebs everywhere. All except the gaping bottomless pit in the middle, which Ted had nearly stepped in. To avoid that specific fate, he fell on his butt. "Good god! A chasm, of all things? This goes way beyond harmless pranks!"

The chasm wasn't real, but an illusion crafted by mischievous ghosts who were probably having a good laugh right about now.

Edited 2015-08-20 17:41 (UTC)

"They were being stored in glass balls of some sort. The authorities have them now, hopefully they'll figure out the best way to deal with them."

Porrim followed Ted in. The light was once again dark, and the fact that she could no longer glow on command a bitter reminder of what she'd sacrificed for Genessia. It was perhaps a small thing in exchange for the welfare of everyone here, but it still stung.

She walked up to the edge of the chasm, testing the ground for solidness before creeping closer. She squatted down to look deep into it.

"Hmm, I don't see a way around it..."

At that moment there was a glimmer across the hall, and Barkbeast jumped up. He barked at it and then took off after it.

"Barkbeast, no!" Porrim shouted as the houndour seemingly leaped off the edge of the pit, but instead he ran across it harmlessly to chase the glimmer that had rounded the corner.

Porrim was stunned, and then annoyed, taking a test step across the illusion herself.

Barkbeast spotted the chest of (fake) valuables and glinting gold sitting on top of the fireplace in the dining hall.

Meanwhile, these two were stuck in the foyer, held at bay by an illusionary hole. As Porrim tested it, she'd find that the prank was layered. It obscured not ordinary flooring, but a pile of sticky glue. Barkbeast ran too fast and furious to get caught in the adhesive, but Porrim might be stuck a bit longer.

Once the trap was triggered, candlelights all around the living room, and some atop the chandeliers, would turn aflame. Unaided, naturally. One such candle burned a rope in Rube Goldbergian fashion, which held a wide bucket full of eggs, destined to topple on anyone who thought they were clever enough to see through it. Ted raised his arms above his head as the rain of yolks descended.

Edited 2015-08-21 04:57 (UTC)

"Well that's just unpleasant," Porrim said, now covered in egg. She tried to pull her foot loose and succeeded only in pulling her foot from her shoe, collapsing back onto Ted.

"There's been a murder. I'll be holding a candlelight vigil for this outfit sometime next week."

"You see how much fun we have in Everglade. Careless fools; I seriously doubt they've been pasteurized. What if we were to inhale them, and catch salmonella?" Clearly the security instincts of the job had infected him, making him fussy. Normally he'd have a sense of humor about it, but Everglade wore on his nerves. Awkwardly he got out from underneath Porrim, then produced two towels from his bag, lending one to his yolk-soaked partner. One positive note was that now the house was fairly well-lit, thanks to the sporadic candlelight. Ted put away his flashlight.

"Safe to say I think we've found these ghost pokemons' headquarters. But how to root them out is the real question. Let's-" Ted's train of thought was derailed by a rattling he heard in the kitchen, to the east of where they were standing. It sounded like the fridge was about to topple over.

"Any preferences for how to proceed? I know it's usually a bad idea to split up in places like these, but truthfully I had rather cover twice as much ground. The sooner this can be brought to a close, the better. Their play is foul, but not that foul. I hope."

The sound of pottery breaking, and a yelp from Barkbeast carried across from the dining room. "Oh no. I had nearly forgotten how rough pokemon played with each other."

"Well, first order of business is getting over this," she said, gesturing to the 'pit' of tar.

"Do you have a bridge in that magic bag of yours?"

"No, I sold it to someone a week ago. But I might be able to find a few tablecloths, and reenact the classic scene of the courteous man laying his coat over the mud for the lady." He unfurled a few rags that would let them cross, though Ted looked remiss to see them go.

Straight ahead from the foyer was the hallway, which connected every part of the house, including the second floor via the stairway at the far end. The walls were lined with portraits of dapper men and women, whose eyes followed you at the periphery of your vision. They were being watched, which made Ted more nervous still.

The dining room was ornate, and seemed prepared for them. Turkey, gooseberries, champagne, and other refreshments were laid out on a tablecloth many times nicer than the one Ted expended. The prominent feature was the chest of valuables displayed on top of the dresser in the back.

As mentioned, it was fake. The glittering gold and jewels were thumbtacks. The food was made to look much fresher than it was; in reality, it was all rotten, covered in spiderwebs and the maggots that had made it home. For once, Ted didn't fall for it. What caught his attention was the break in scenery; this house was made to look nice, all save for the broken vase laying on the floor, with Barkbeast a fair distance from where it was picked up. "Strange. I doubt he knocked it down; I can see the dust imprint from the table that way. How did it get over here?"

Porrim steps lightly over the proffered blanket. Once on the other side she pulls out her crochet needles to pull out another pair of shoes.

Porrim paid little mind to the treasure; had Meenah been there, a scream of painful frustration would have filled the air - a good many, since Meenah would not have let something like a bunch of thumbtacks stop her from possessing possible treasure.

"The ghosts, I assume..." Porrim was a little preoccupied. She started to walk in the direction that Barkbeast had gone in. "Barkbeast! Come back!"

"A wise assumption, I bet. The trick is how to uncover them, and then make them knock it off. Perhaps..." He let out his gothita, a waddling thing with large eyes, always staring. "This one has a mischievous mind, the sensitivity of a psychic, and likes to look at things."

It stared at Porrim intently.

"Maybe it will know where they are." It paced around the room before getting silverware thrown at it. Ted yelled, quickly recalling the poor thing. "Forgot about their type animosity!" The ghosts were angry now, repeating what they did to Barkbeast for all of them. All manner of household furnishings picked themselves up and launched at Ted and Porrim. Barkbeast too, if he wasn't put in the ball. Ted covered his head while making a break for it. "Let's away to...anywhere else!" For his part, he'd run back into the hallway and into the kitchen, out of the barrage of dinnerware. Which was just as well, as he wanted to see what was making the refrigerator act so odd.

"Barkbeast, Howl!" Porrim shouted. Barkbeast, ducking under a dinner platter, jumped forward, planted his feet, and let loose a fearful howl throughout the mansion.

Ted reached for his ears as Barkbeast rattled the old house. Even ghost pokemon were afraid of the sound, and the din of dinnerware stopped. One could see, if they paid attention to the periphery of their vision, a purple-black ball scurrying out of the dining room. Dark types, oh how they hated them.

"Spooking the spooks! Hah! Good thinking, Porrim." He had to shout to reach across, as Porrim alone had chosen to stay her ground. "Now, let's see what's making this fridge act so odd." He looked around the back for a plug; nothing. "Reminds me of that old prank phone call joke. Except this one's not running." A banging sound was heard from the inside. "What? Someone's in there?" He steeled his nerves, and readied his bag. "On three." He counted down, then wrenched open the doors.

Nothing. Not even any rotten food. Just the bare cupboards of a fridge. "Huh. Well that's odd." He leaned in to get a closer look. Then a large pot smacked into his backside, pushing him into the bare freezer. One inside, the doors snapped shut immediately, and wouldn't budge, despite Ted's banging.

"Whoa! Little help? It's very cold and dark in here, despite the lack of any discernible elect—" Ted's loquaciousness was cut off by some hacking coughs. "Help, can't breathe...spores or black fungus or something..." Unbeknownst to him, a Ghastly was in there with him, doing what it was infamous for.

"Its not running because its not plugged in?" Porrim asked, wandering over. She had no idea what Ted was talking about.

"Ted!" she shouted when he was pulled inside. She pulled on the handle fruitlessly.

"Hold on," she said, thinking. Ember was not precise enough to cut him out. She pulled another pokeball out. "Zip go!"

She threw the ball and a little lightning rod ghost appeared. "Get Ted out!"

Rotom buzzed and then jumped into the refrigerator to possess the appliance.

Edited 2015-09-01 01:52 (UTC)

Quick as a whip, Ted was thrust out of the evil appliance, sprawled on the floor. The black vapors he had nearly choked on didn't escape with him. "Thank you, Porrim. Heh heh heh..." Ted's usual energetic voice had been subsumed by a quiet murmur. Jerkily, he got up, and dusted himself off. In a dramatic moment, his gaze met hers. Stranger than his tone was his eyes; they were just like Porrim's, showing only the whites.

Zapping was going on in the fridge; apparently Rotom had met some complications, as another ghost tangled with it. Two could play the possession game.

Ted's arms twisted to his pouch, tossing his pokeball violently. Squirtle came out, looking afraid and bewildered. "Hah, hah...Water Gun." He pointed at Porrim. The Squirtle's face was screwed up, but ultimately, it had to obey, attacking with a torrent of water.

Barkbeast quickly shoved Porrim out of the way, taking the blast of the watergun himself. Porrim fell to the floor, confused. There was no time to be caught dumbfounded, however.

"Rotom, discharge!"

The electric ghost in the refrigerator zipped again, and electricity burst out in every direction.

The discharge was more than the naughty ghost could take; another dark sphere with swirly eyes was expelled, zipping out of the kitchen on the wings of the air.

It wasn't the only casualty; Ted and his Squirtle both caught some of the blast, and lit up. Squirtle handled it worse than most, being a water type. Ted, once he had finished sizzling, recalled it, and sent out his Gothita. "Heh, heh, ATTACK!"

Gothita, being the playful kind, thought it was a joke, and charged toward Barkbeast with its large head for a mighty pounding.

Porrim yelped as Gothita hit Barkbeast full force and - already weak from the water gun - was knocked straight out. Porrim pulled him back into his pokeball to give him some much needed rest.

She gave Ted - and whatever was possessing him, an evil eye. "Rotom, open!"

Rotom, now fully possessing the refridgerator, opened up its doors, and Porrim rushed forward, looking to tackle Ted right back into it.

Twice now Ted was put into an appliance. Porrim scored a touchdown as he was put back into its cold casings. Rotom's contented face masked a busy little pokemon as its inside banged about. Naturally, the Ghastly inside Ted was none too happy. "NO ONE'S RAIN ON OUR PARADE! WE'LL SHOW YOU EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENS TO TRESPASSERS IN GHOST TOWN!" Another zap, and the Ghastly could take no more, being forced out of its host and into the place where its companions had joined. Satisfied, Rotom opened up, releasing a Ted with his pupils intact.

Recovering, he checked on the status of his pokemon before apologizing. Gothita was still there, wondering if there was still a fight going on. Into the ball she went. "I'm...dreadfully sorry about all that. Thank you very much for your electric exorcism. Are you all right?" Being possessed was not a pleasant experience, worst of all for the hand he may have had in one's harm. He felt chilled, and reached into his bag for another layer. Also out of his bag came two gas masks. "You might want to wear this. Those gaseous ghosts get in through the airways; hopefully that'll put a stop to it."

He got up, with weary resolve. "They've taken mischief all the way to malevolence. I don't know if pokemon can go to hell, but I'll be damned if I can't give it to them. After everything so far, are you still with me? I think their worst prank is yet to come."

A rumbling was felt throughout the house. The ghosts, apparently, were thoroughly done with their guests, and wished to expel them. The group of ghosts were huddled in the attic, the last stage of their planned scare.

Porrim put on the gas mask thankfully. She had no desire to inflict on Ted or his pokemon what they'd forced him to inflict on her.

"I'm fine, and Barkbeast should be okay after a visit to the pokemon center." She pulled out another pokeball and threw it out. "Ridgehead!"

Energy coalesced to form a pawniard, who's dark/steel type would make him very hard for the ghosts to mess with - although he had little offensive abilities against them. "Zip, you stay behind us."

The large refrigerator cheerfully buzzed and kept up the rearguard while Ridgehead took the lead. Finally she turned to Ted. "Are you alright? Perhaps we should get you out of here."

Edited 2015-09-02 02:30 (UTC)

"No, and I doubt I will be until those pokemon are put in their place. I wouldn't abandon the pursuit; not on your life. Okay, I'm sorry, I don't mean that. But you understand the sentiment. These ghosts need to be brought to justice." Ted had come into full-on Guardian mode. He did, however, crack a smile at the chipper fridge following behind. "Using their own weapons against them, eh? You really know how to demoralize the enemy. Oh, and you still haven't said whether you forgive me. You do, I hope. I insist—"

Ted was cut off again by the sound of sound of a haunting tune playing. "It must be coming from the second floor. How about it? Ready to walk into another trap?" Despite all that happened, Ted oddly found him enjoying their sordid little scenario. He was glad Porrim was there to share the spook session.

"There's nothing to forgive, Ted. It wasn't your fault. But really, Ted - Zip isn't a weapon they're a friend. It's not their fault-" she trailed off at the sound of music.

"I suppose I am. Ridgehead, take the lead."

"You say that, then bring out a pokemon with what looks like a knife on its forehead." Not that Ted minded, being pretty ticked at the ghosts thus far.

Out the hallway, up the stairs, each one creaking and groaning under the group's weight. The attic was predictably dusty, with odds and ends scattered everywhere. It was a struggle just to find a place to stand next to all the junk everywhere. Once they arrived, the source of music would be an old record player, screeching the tune to a halt just as they entered.

Ted was, admittedly, a bit creeped out. "Well that's unnerving. Hold on, what's—The lights!" The lone light bulb nested above burnt out, leaving them shrouded in darkness. Then, one by one, candles flickered against the far wall. As each one went up, a message appeared. It was red, large, and smudgy. They used ketchup to do it, but thought the likeness to blood would add to the effect. Ted mouthed it as it appeared. "Say goodbye to summer...have a nice fall." Once the last word left his lips, a rumbling sound went all around them, and Ted fell on the shaky ground.

"Oh no; they're literally bringing the house down!" The ghosts were intent on pranking till the end of days, and didn't like the thought of their hideout being prodded into. Thus, they'd dispose of that and their intrepid home-wreckers all in one go.

"Now hold on, all of you!" Porrim shouted at the ghosts, very authoritarianly, like an upset mother. "There's being naughty and mischeivious and then there's outright dangerous, and you're crossing it right now! Get out where I can see you, NOW!"

She pointed to the ground in front of her.

Yikes. That may be the scariest thing Ted's encountered in the haunted house thus far. "I could see how death might tickle their funny bones. If they have them. Ghosts strike me as being very fond of black humor." Ted's inanities aside, one Ghastly actually did become visible in front of them, wearing the same open-mouthed toothy grin they all shared. It hovered there, seemingly burning in purple fumes surrounding a black orb. This one was the meekest of the ghostly gang, having been peer pressured into increasing levels of naughtiness. "Ghastly", it breathed. To the group's slight relief, the earthquake had downgraded to a slight tremor.

As if it were a greeting, Ted's Gothita came out of its ball without permission. It too, was a bit naughty. They said their names to each other over and over, in the manner of Poke-speech. Then, it was up to their pokemon to relay whatever they had spoken about to their clueless owners.

Thus, the art of pantomime. Gothita, at least, looked a bit human, so it could relay the widest range of movements while chattering its name excitedly. The gist of it was this: This Ghastly isn't really down with the jokes so much since they started hurting people and breaking stuff. The rest of its friends are hiding out in each corner of the house, using telekinesis to break the support beams. If you hurry, you can probably make them stop. There's one in the kitchen, the bathroom, the dining room, and the basement. As an apology, it want to kiss and make up.

Ted, for all his concentration, couldn't make out a bit of it. Wouldn't stop him from guessing, though. "That was the most elaborate potty dance I've ever seen. Gothita, this is no time to eliminate. Even if it is an abandoned house. I think that Ghastly's a bad influence on you."

Zip and Ridgehead nodded along. Porrim was only able to follow the conversation in vaguest sense. "I think this one is sorry," she said. "But..."

Ridgehead pulled on Porrim's dress to get her attention. "Pawniard!" it stated emphatically, pointing through the floor at one corner of the house. It pointed at Zip and then gestured down to the other corner. "Pawniard!"

"Rotom!" the large red refrigerator replied enthusiastically, wheeling around and heading in that direction.

"Alright," Porrim said. She turned to Ted. "We need to get to the corners of the house, for whatever reason. You head that way-" she gestured at an unclaimed direction. "Ridgehead will take that direction, and me and them-" she gestured at the Ghastly, "will take the last direction."

Ghastly wasn't kidding about "kiss and make up"; it unfurled a very large tone, relative to its size, and went to give Porrim a big ol' lick for being so understanding. Ghost licks, unfortunately, have the tendency to paralyze their victims for a time. Ted wasn't sure how to respond. Did it do it out of affection, or just plain impishness? The world may never know.

"If you say so. Onward and downward!" Ted was pumped, at any rate, a nervous excitement pulsating with every rumble of the floor. Just before they could embark on their new mission, a fan turned on by itself amidst the attic clutter, sending the quasi-repentant Ghastly tumbling through the wall. Being ethereal happens to make one very light. "Oh no, where's he gone?" Ted intended to capture that one as well. Like most gangs, the ghosts placed a high premium on their no-snitching policy. This was their way of weeding out traitors.

And yet, it might prove their undoing. "Hold on. Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Ted rummaged in his sack, taking out two handheld vacuums. Though impossible to tell through the gas mask, Ted looked on at Porrim with expectant eyes. It was a cartoonish strategy, and yet it only made Ted love it more, if only he could get the barest nod of agreement.

She took one of the vacuum cleaners. "You just happen to carry a two hand-held reverse blowers in your bag?" she asked, amused. She gave it a test and it turned on with a loud hum.

"This looks like a job for Troll Ghostbusters," she said. "Good luck!"

She started to head for her chosen corner.

"In case one breaks, or I want to clean twice as fast. Luck favors the prepared, and all that." The terror of the haunted house had been broken for him, and Ted was all too eager to turn the tables on his destructive delinquents.

And how those tables turned. Ted enjoyed the rhythm of his bounding footsteps with the quivers of the house, quivers which imitated the beating of his heart. He followed Porrim's directions, coming to the bathroom. He slammed open the door, and stopped for a moment. Through the semi-transparent curtain, he saw a silhouette. He peered at it for moment. A thin cord came from the ceiling, attached to a lithe, female form with horns. He gasped. Porrim, hung. Ted could hardly believe it. He tore open the curtain to confirm, and found nothing, to his great relief. As he recovered from the fright, an invisible force pushed him into the tub, then turned on the cold water dial for an icy shower. As a final touch, the shower curtain was ripped off and thrown on him. Ted wrestled like a dumb dog with a blanket on top.

Eventually he made it out of cloth and water, dripping and furious. Then he heard the familiar laughter of a Ghastly, utterly content with its comedy. "Gothita, point out the heckler!" Dutifully it appeared, then stared and pointed unwavering. With grim satisfaction, Ted flicked on the switch of his vacuum. Suddenly the Ghastly didn't seem so satisfied.

Wherever Porrim was, she would hear a few choice battle cries, echoing along with the roar of sucking winds. "Haha! Who's laughing now, you wicked wisps?" "There's more than one way to catch a pokemon!" "I would've settled for a spanking, but much like your schemes, I'd go right through you!" "Oh, you're scared now, are you? Have a taste of your own medicine!" So the chase proceeded with sound and fury.

Porrim was half concerned and half amused with the loud antics coming from the other side of the house. Subtlety was not something Ted kept in that bad of his.

But she had her own work ahead of her. Down from the attic, through another hallway. And another. And another... wait, the house couldn't be that that large, could it?

She stood still, and heard cackling in the distance. Likely taking pleasure in how long it had taken Porrim to realize she was being taken for a ride.

She fingered another pokeball out and threw it, releasing her cryoganal.

"Frozen, use haze!"

"Cryoganal!" The multifaceted pokemon inhaled and then with a burst exhaled frozen air throughout the area. The haze broke down the illusions, the false walls collapsing into fragments and drizzling into nothingness, revealing a perturbed Misdreavus.

Black rays started to flash in its eyes, but Frozen was faster. "Ice shard!" Porrim commanded. Fragments of ice struck the ghost, giving Porrim what she thought was enough time to rush forward and suck it up, but she miscalculated. A confuse Ray struck Frozen, and before she knew it, Cryoganal's sharpened spikes were tackling her. She reached up to defend with the vacuum, the device taking the brunt of the attack and shattering into pieces.

Misdreavus chittered in victory as Frozen shook the confusion off. It wasn't expecting Porrim to pull out an Ultra ball and hurl it, though. The Misdreavus gaped in surprise as the ball struck it, pulling it inside. Between its surprise and its reduced strength from the earlier ice shard, it couldn't resist. The red light on the ultra ball faded, and it teleported out to the PC.

"I hope the others are having a less troublesome time."

Ted eventually prevailed on the poltergeist, capturing it with a satisfying thump. "That'll be an adequate jail cell. Hold on, why isn't the vacuum sucking any more? Gastly better not have broken it; who would I send the bill to? Oh well, better regroup with the others."

***

The smiling fridge, Rotom, waddled past the kitchen into the spacious laundry room. The routine tumbling of clothes replaced the shaking from the support pillar, now abandoned.

Suddenly, a spark of plasma appeared! Two more Rotom's appeared from the ether. Kind of.

One had a handlebar mustache out of lightning bolts, wearing a bowler cap. The other wore a string of electric pearls and two dainty earrings, with a sweet smile. They looked on, lovingly.

In other words, two Gastly's were dressing up as Rotom's long-lost parents. Allegedly. They just wanted its attention, before their eyes went swirly and they tried their hypnosis hijinks. Would Rotom fall for their cunning scheme?

***

Ridgehead had returned to the living room, where the shaking rumbled loudest. Something didn't quite belong; a split rock, with a frowny face in the middle. Spiritomb lied in wait.

Furniture rattled to life. Chairs, couches, tables, portraits, and drawers galore all hurled themselves at Ridgehead, striking from all angles. Could he cut his way through the barrage of furniture, or would he buried underneath an avalanche of armoires?

Prankster poltergeists (Action, Open)

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