August Catch-all

[friendlyflower]

Who: Flowey & Perrin, Bigby, Akechi, Siffrin, Siffrin (again), Chara
What: Quests!! The boy's got his non-existent hands full again! (Exploration: Yellow, Carts Before Charts, Flower Showers, Play Nice) 
Where: New territory beyond the middle forest; places in and around the new Outpost
When: Throughout August
Warnings: Pokemon battling (violence/injury), severe weather, Flowey's trauma (mentions of/themes of depression, depersonalization, guilt, child death, murder)

Comments

[wolfcut]

[ While Flowey shouts, Bigby simply looks up, eyes narrowing at the Fearow readying a Drill Peck. Instinctively, he begins to growl — low, guttural, teeth bared. Sparks fly off bristled fur. His hold grows tighter. The bird is honed in on Courier Six now, but Bigby knows the two of them are easy pickings if the Dragonite decides to cut his losses.

Keyword being if.

Instead, his ears fall back, feeling Perrin's claws wrap around them as his pace suddenly speeds up. The building moves closer and closer into view until, finally, they dive down right at its entrance. Despite the immediate pain, there's still enough adrenaline to push himself back up quickly. He glances at the other two first, pulling off a piece of Perrin's bag that got caught on him with a slight groan. His first thought is to just toss it, but then he realizes when Courier Six speaks.

Oh. ]

... C'mon. Just get inside. Quickly. [ While he can help Flowey get back up if he needs it, Perrin is another matter. Instead, he places one paw against him, offering the scrap to him with the other. ] Look. We'll get it fixed. After we survive this shit storm.

[ He's not going to bother asking how everyone's feeling after a rough landing when he already knows firsthand. ]

[friendlyflower]

[As much as Flowey wants to make a snide comment about the stupid bag, he does owe Courier Six and Bigby his life right now. He grumbles as he picks up another scrap of the bag with his vine and offers it to Six.]

Yeah. Shit storm is right. [He learned a new word today. At least there's that.] I'm sick of this stupid place. We got sent here to die.

[He enters the ruined building, hopping over roots that have split the stone flooring. Nature has reclaimed this place; everywhere he looks there's ivy, leaves, vines. Clay pots have split open, dandelions burst through cracks in the ground. The air would be a little cleaner for it if not for all the dust.

Because the further they venture in, the more furniture they find in the ruins-- collapsed shelves, with only the barest tatters of ancient tomes left upon them. They're completely unsalvagable, most of them already more soaked-through rot than paper.]

... This place look familiar to anyone?