Circumbendibus [Interior Warehouse]

[camtoniac]

Welcome to the jungle
WE GOT FUN 'N' GAMES
We got everything you want
Honey we know the names
We are the people that can find
Whatever you may need
If you got the money honey
WE GOT YOUR DISEASE

Struan launched himself heavily against the door - one, two, three more shoves, and the stiff metal gave way, allowing a thin strip of sunlight to pour into the building. The interior detail was entirely obscured by the vast, engulfing shadows that sprawled across and clung to the walls. Struan peered in through the crevice, eyes unable to adjust to the interminable darkness. He pressed against the opening and pushed it further open, slipping into the abyss. Blind and unprepared, he immediately tripped, foot catching on something large and heavy lying by the entrance - Struan stumbled forwards, hands outstretched, and managed to land - uncomfortably, but without harm - in a heap on the ground. He spluttered and coughed, willing the dust that had propelled into his lungs to leave - although, all in vain, as clouds of dry brown particles continued to billow skywards around him. Kneeling, he beat his palms against his thighs, and wiped his eyes, ignoring the sharp pain as he forced them open. The space felt colossal. From this position, the building - the warehouse, it definitely appeared to have once been a warehouse - was very bright, armies of large windows allowing unadulterated sunshine to stream through onto near-barren surfaces.

Steel crates and ominous chunks of old machinery were strewn around the room. Imposing columns, claret paint chipped and vandalised, stretched to the high ceiling. Struan turned around to face the opening he had crept through; the corner was absurdly dark for the abundance of luminosity throughout the rest of the room - a thick metal platform and a series of rafters were settled sentry above the door, plunging the area into shadow, but for the beam of light bursting through the ajar entrance. Dust could be seen diving and twirling around itself in the scar of the intruding sunlight. The sound of something sliding roughly from its perch and crashing to the ground echoed across the warehouse. Startled, Struan jolted upright, quickly shaking the debris from his knees. Alert, and tense, he stood and listened. The whole building was alive with subtle scuttles and creaks, a brief moment of flapping wings overhead, and another soft thump in the distance. Frowning, Struan reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a Pokéball. He glanced around the building again, eyes dragging over each barrel and container, a tension beneath his brow and around his jaw. The reason for breaking into this warehouse hadn’t yet presented itself; Struan had been wandering, as people do, and found the deteriorating state of the roof irresistible. He had always been fascinated by old, decrepit structures - their stories and hidden delights. Even now, well into his adulthood, Struan could not deny temptation when faced with such an exquisite paragon. Another quiet, frantic rustling noise erupted to his right; Struan smirked slightly, licked his teeth and pressed a finger into the button in the centre of Judas’ Pokéball, maximising the capsule from its tiny, storage state, prepared. With a vicious grin and tight grip on the shiny sphere, Struan trotted giddily further into the warehouse.

[The REAL Joey]

As yet another trainer ventured forth into the dilapidated remains of a once industrious warehouse, the very structure seemed to come alive once more. The noises of it's long distant past seemingly echoed through its very foundation. The sound of heavy machinery labouring away and the diligent chugging of the forklift truck motors were all audible to the ear. It was almost as if these very same noises that would have been heard during its heyday were happening right this very moment. Paradoxical as it was, the abandoned warehouse was beginning to seem not all that abandoned. On the other far end of the warehouse to Struan was a mysterious figure who had just stepped up from a set of stairs leading lower into the complex. The figure was not one to be expected in that of a warehouse. His clothes were extravagant; a fancy waistcoat accompanied by a mesmerising cape made up of many sequins. He would have looked more at home at the circus or a magic show. His gelled up hair only added to this feeling. The man twirled on the spot before taking out three Pokeballs and juggling them in the air for a few cycles. "La, la, la~ I hate being on guard duty. Not like anyone comes here to watch my tricks." With his final word, he threw each of his three juggling Pokeballs into the air and laughed as they vanished. He swished his cape around to then reveal them in his other hand. "Fantastico!" He bellowed.

Thankfully for Struan, a couple of old crates and barrels and stopped the fabulous magician from being any the wise to an intruder into the building. For the longest while, the magician stood around practising a variety of tricks. Some of them were terribly done and had it been in front of an audience would have conjured the loudest unanimous groan in disappointment. "Best check the garage..." He withdrew a small ball from his waist coat pocket and slammed it on the floor. The entire warehouse suddenly became heavy with a thick smoke. As quickly as it appeared, the smoke dispersed. Struan was now by himself. Or so he thought. While remaining hidden behind the crates, a wild Pokemon that lived within the warehouse had crawled over to say hello. With a sharp cry it greeted Struan. As the Pokemon came into view, it was none other than a Spinarak dangling from a web upside down.

Encounter

---

A wild Spinarak has appeared!

[camtoniac]

Field mice, head lice
SPIDERS IN THE KITCHEN
Don't think twice 'bout
Whatever keeps you itchin'
Ice water, flyswatter
Gonna get you through
THE DAY

He walked beneath the rafters, initially and subconsciously aligned to the huge metal structures, before beginning to edge closer to the expansive centre of the warehouse. As he drew nearer to the opposite side of the building - now far from both his entry point and the parallel wall in question - the surreptitious noises of scrambling creatures that Struan had been tuning into were now fading as the low hum of oscillating cogs and gears and the sharp clang of grinding cranks began to rise up around him. An array of old machinery sat clustered at the far end of the space, whirring and hissing, seemingly without purpose and of its own accord. Struan began to slow his pace, intending to turn his attentions to a nearby crate; this vessel appeared to have housed a vibrant industry in its day - any flavour of fascinating discovery could be lurking below the surface. His head drooped towards the ground, watching as his shoes scuffed at the thick layer of dust, kicking clouds into the air with each step, sporadically catching sight of something shiny and captivating; invariably scrap metal.

Another sound, sudden and unusual, caused Struan to abruptly wrench his head from his chest and move to glance frantically around the room. Before he had even the time to react, the air around him seemed to have suddenly become murky and grey, and he once again felt his lungs clog up - smoke licked around his limbs and down his throat, and his entire world was reduced to nothing more than a moment of panic, brief and intense, his heartbeat a vital pinpoint in his perception, and his vision a vague mass of thick swirly gas and infinite confusion. Then - Struan drew in a ravenous breath as he felt the last of the smoke rush from his lungs, and leak from the room, seeping into the cracks and out of the windows. Mere seconds had passed; the air was clear and Struan recovered - but the building was different. Somehow quieter, more still. He turned slowly, eyes flickering suspiciously from one end of the room to the other. Although the place had seemed so empty, and yet lively, before, it now possessed a much more distinct ambiance; the heavy aura of paranoia - Struan, brave in all but heart, felt unease creep over him as the unfamiliar murmur that had settled after the gaseous phenomena emphasised the presence of another being, watching him from somewhere he could not detect. Even as the sun streamed in, the strange and appealing nature of the building, neglected and old, that had so easily lured Struan in, had now taken on a much more foreboding tone. The tip of his tongue held tightly between his teeth, he rolled the Pokéball in his hand, tightening his grip on the capsule.

“Oooooooahhhhhhhhhhhhhhfuuuckkkkkkkkkahhhhhhhhhhhh!!”

He let out an almighty cry, gasping and shrieking, wide eyes bursting from their sockets, legs half-buckling and arms flailing in wild terror, and without a whisper of elegance. He jolted back, panting, and looked at the offending creature. A Pokémon had suddenly dropped from the ceiling and landed in front of Struan. No, a Spinarak had dropped down from the ceiling was now dangling in front of Struan’s face. He looked wild-eyed and flustered, hair in disarray - more than usual - and cheeks sharp spots of claret, while the colour had drained from the rest of his skin. His breaths deepened and grew less erratic, and his arms fell from their defensive stance, but his eyes never left the spider’s body. C’mon, Stru. You’re a man - you’re a *****in’ bully. Man up. Nou. It’s a Bug, yer a *****in’ kilt. Since ye were a weaver ye’ve been known for your unique and effective way of dealin’ wi’ fear. Not that yer afeart. Course not. Ne’er. Nou, march upta that thing an’ jus’ show it, not to *****in’ try something like that aga--

“Y’awyhhaah! Ah fer fu-ff-f-kshh,” he stuttered, searching desperately for the button in the centre of the Pokéball that had yet seemed so accessible. After approximately two seconds - which to Struan, felt as though it lasted at least two minutes - he successfully pressed against the device and the ball popped open, releasing a burst of hot pink plasma into the air. The reddish light shot out and jerked against the atmosphere, travelling impossibly fast in sharp angles, before erupting against the ground in a glorious display of bright beams and fizzling sparks, dissolving to reveal the shape of a young Charmander. The Spinarak had squealed by way of greeting Struan, and the man - despite not being afeart o’ no *****in’ twelve-legged binhoker - had only just managed to avoid literally jumping out of his skin, and immediately released the first Pokémon he had received upon beginning his journey through the Johto region; Judas, a runt Charmander from a long line of Kanto-bred ancestors afflicted with his own menagerie of anger and authority issues, now stood scowling between his trainer and the wild Pokémon, pawing viciously at the ground.

“Juuudassssss,” Struan crooned, sarcastic-sing-song (but genuinely appreciative), “attack that thing up there. There, you bloody eejit, right up-! yes, that ugly little disease vessel - good lad, so’dger.”

Judas glanced around himself helplessly before registering that he faced a threat from above. The lizard’s own heart jumped and sank a little as it set eyes upon the Spinarak; there was something deeply unsettling about spiders - but Judas enjoyed nothing more than a fight, and so began to hiss and snap at the enemy Pokémon provocatively. The Charmander spat a few flares up at the dangling creature, but he did not yet possess the power to maintain a powerful flame, and the light simply wriggled around the Pokémon before bursting into little twists of smoke, curling and fading into the air. Struan watched from a few steps back, gaze lingering with distaste on the bug, and face distorted with incredulity and unamused perplexity at Judas’ behaviour. He scratche his head and swiped a hand across his face before calling out to his Pokémon.

“C’mon, nowww. Don’t be a *****in’- Scratch! fer christ’s sake, scratch it, you little nutter,” he yelled, already exasperated, and then, knowing by now the Charmander’s nature, mumbled noncommittally, “an’ don’t ye bother trynta do that fire attack again ‘cause ye kenn as well as I do that you cannae do it yet...”

Finally taking the initiative, Judas began hopping up and down, claws frenetically searing through the air below the Spinarak. Struan watched his Pokémon work itself into a frenzy as it jumped and slashed at its target, which seemed all too content to hang at a safe distance, making horrendous noises and taunting Judas with the snapping of its tiny pincers.

[The REAL Joey]

OOC: Hahahaha, I am really enjoying your character. He's definitely got a manic Scottish flair to him. ;D Sorry if this post is a bit sketchy. This is what I get for doing late night posting.

BIC:

The innocent little Spinarak was completely perplexed by this new face in the warehouse. The other frequent residents all had their own little quirks but this man was something else. His eccentric way of speaking and very demeanour made the new face all the more intriguing. Spinarak span some more web in order to lower itself towards Struan. It wriggled its legs in greeting and swivelled its head around to get a better view. The little spider Pokemon began to realise something was up as the man used his spherical device to create a fantastic array of lights in the vicinity. Startled, it hugged back up its web and swung from side to side while dazed. As the arachnid slowly regained its control and rejoined back with the real world it let out a sharp cry of contempt at what had been realised.

Spiders had a vast menagerie of predators in the world that would be more than happy to have them for dinner. There were flying birds which loved decimating its population with their sharp claws and beaks as the problem of various elements being able to quash its existence. The saddened Spinarak thought back to its time when it lived with its family in a cave. It was only after a tragic accident that the loose stalagmites collapsed and squished its relatives. Rocks were certainly not a favourite. The one thing that is unanimously hated by all creepy crawlies was the existence of fire. A small scorch could burn away as if they were nothing. This fiery lizard that stood before it would certainly mean death if it tried attacking it head on. Instead, it had to be clever.

As Struan ordered his Charmander to attack, Judas readied its claws and swiped them savagely in the air. By some amazing stroke of luck, ability or skill, the Scratch attack actually landed. Dabbing the weaving spider Pokemon right in the noggin. It hung from its web dazedly as it recovered from such a fierce strike. Regaining sense once more, it hissed at Struan, it's pincers gyrating at an insane pace. For such an intriguing man he was disappointed to see that he wanted to harm him. The Spinarak shrieked again, this was a declaration of war. With a small swing on its single line of webbing, it grabbed it with its legs and then pointed its mouth at the Charmander. With a hiss a lightning fast spike landed right on Judas, causing a terribly poisonous sting. The Spinarak rubbed its pincers together, delighted by the outcome. This was one of the first battles it had ever encountered. Maybe that small little sting would be enough to make the Charmander disappear so Spinarak could continue to observe Struan.

Battle

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Spinarak | Level 6 |
Health : 82%
Status : Normal
Scratched thoroughly by Judas.

Judas | Level 5 |
Health : 85%
Status : Stung
Hit by Spinarak's Poison Sting.

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