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WHO: Everyone!
WHERE: Jeopardy -> Heropa
WHEN: Nov. 19
WHAT: A resolution and a swear-in
WARNINGS: Please label threads

Somewhere, in a place that is and is not Jeopardy, time has passed. To some, it may have felt like mere hours; to others, days. For time doesn't truly touch this place. Only fate exists here, for imPorts to change or allow to proceed as it will.

Somewhere, the sisters look into the hearts of those with the power to decide the fate of this entire world and know their choice. A blinding light grows, forcing even the strongest to close their eyes, and as they do so, a vision of what could have happened appears in their minds. A world wreathed in flames, fire and screams echoing ceaselessly as they depart; a peaceful world, healed and whole and well—and a certainty that another world has paid a heavy price.

And then there's the sensation of three powerful forces leaving, two taking an unwilling third with them to wherever they are going. This world will be left as it is now, and its future will be whatever the people here make of it.

MEANWHILE, IN HEROPA

One week into the mysterious storm that has enveloped much of Jeopardy, citizens across the nation are losing hope. The government continues to monitor the situation at a safe distance, but cannot enter the affected part of the city, though one SEAL team did make an attempt, only to become lost in the wind for hours before emerging without ever making it through. While the storm hasn't grown, neither has it shown any sign of changing.

The heroes who bravely charged into the storm have not officially been given up for lost, but with no news coming from Jeopardy, few believe they will emerge unscathed. To honor their sacrifice (?) and offer sorrowful natives a means of coping, a candlelight vigil kicks off outside Heropa City Hall at 4:30 PM EST.

Speeches are given. Commemorative t-shirts are sold. It is at this point that a large portal of light opens up in front of the building and deposits all imPorts who entered the storm, as well as a confused but unharmed Layla and Sally Clapp. A stunned silence falls over the crowd — followed shortly by an eruption of cheers.

Organized chaos quickly reigns over the occasion. Medical personnel are quickly called in to aid any imPorts who might need it, and government officials quickly descend, one thing on their mind: what the heck happened, heroes?! ImPorts are asked to state, for the record, exactly what they experienced — which leaves a lot of room open for the more creative among them. Just what each imPorts is willing to confess to or lie about is up to them, but there are other imPorts at hand to refute or support all statements.

While imPorts are technically free to go, all are encouraged to enter the building for a debriefing with government officials. Those who care to share their story begin to paint a picture of what happened, and a flurry of transportation begins to move between City Hall and the local porter outpost, as Jeopardy will certainly require some aid now that it is fully accessible. Reports begin to filter back that while there have been some casualties and collateral damage to the city, it is far less of a disaster than the government anticipated during the storm, no doubt due to imPorts' efforts. Additionally, news from other porter cities begins to arrive; with the dissipation of the Jeopardy storm, all dimensional anomalies elsewhere have ceased.

Following the briefings, ImPorts may go home and get some rest, although they may have trouble shaking off the crowds — which are largely ecstatic that the people who apparently saved the world are in front of them.

While imPorts were occupied with the post-disaster debriefings, locals have used the time to launch an impromptu celebration of their defense of this world. Local restaurants, breweries and nanas have hustled their finest wares over, and free food and drink are flowing for the homecoming heroes. A local party & events organizing company has strung up some lights and tents in the park across the street from City Hall, lending a festive atmosphere to the area. T-shirts being sold to honor the assumed-fallen heroes have been 'edited' with permanent marker, going from 'FALLED HEROES' (there was an error in the print run, given the notice of less than a week) to 'RISEN HEROES' and are, regretfully, being given away for free.

For those who stay, an impromptu party breaks out, and the occasion quickly becomes the latest swear-in, albeit with a more casual emphasis on the actual swearing-in than usual; a card table is set up with the usual seals and documents, but it's a bit haphazard.

Along with tasty libations, local musicians start jamming on acoustic guitars in the park's gazebo, setting up some cheerful background music—or maybe you're not too tired to dance? A local physical therapy school has rolled in multiple portable massage tables, with free sessions for sore heroes!

The locals who haven't dispersed yet are also around, likely to seek autographs from the world savers, while podcasters, BlueTubers and regular nosy nellies might lean in with a recording device, asking for the real story of what happened. For imPorts who become too intoxicated or exhausted to porter home, many locals are offering couches to crash on — although the pillows they use may later show up on ePay.

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I. CONFUSED ALOLA MAN ARRIVES UNANNOUNCED AT VIGIL, CROWD JUST AS CONFUSED

[Guzma barely knows what's what when suddenly him and the others are dumped into Heropa all too suddenly. Right onto his ass, because Guzma's not worthy of a graceful entrance. The stunned silence sets the tension, and Guzma's left staring at them all as he rights himself. By the time he and others have gotten themselves to their feet (or you know, the ones who were able to land more gracefully than some were already there), the cheering has started.

Also, Darin's already on a roll with his speech, and that's quite enough of that for Guzma. It's a little overwhelming in a way, being in front of a crowd with a bunch of hero types and all of them cheering and being glad for their efforts—for his efforts. So, besides trying to find Lucina in the crowd of heroes he very much so doesn't belong to, he's gonna try to get the hell away from all this attention like it's the plague.

Sure, he wants to be acknowledged and recognized for his strength, but not like this.]

II. SPITEFUL ALOLA MAN INDULGES IN CELEBRATORY PARTY, STILL CLAIMING "HE AIN'T A HERO"

[He should be checking on Team Skull right now, and he knows that. However, after the week he's had (was that a week? he doesn't even know for sure), and then the eruption of a party? He figures Tupp probably has it under control, and he knows damn well he's earned this.

Of course for the most part he'll be trying to stick with Lucina, but there will be times that he's pulled away. Whether to get himself some drinks, or even to indulge in some dancing. And boy, can he! Now that he's drunk, and the relief has settled in, he's down for some breakdancing. Who knew a dude his size could be so agile and flexible, huh?

Other than that, he'll be denying fans autographs, and snipping at them for bothering him. Anyone trying to record/interview him might also find their phones or devices being confiscated by the mouth of one (1) Golisopod, whom of which has one of those RISEN HEROES shirts stretch over his fat neck/body, his smaller arms through the sleeves (the shirt is not long for this world). The giant bug having no qualms with how the devices noisily crunches in his maw. He might even give the person a friendly pat on the head with one of his little buggy arms! What a good lad.

However, by the end of it all, Guzma's thoroughly drunk, and will more than likely be heading home with Lucina. No stranger couch surfing for him!]

Edited 2019-11-19 21:19 (UTC)

[At some point during the festivities, Darin manages to catch sight of Guzma. Before making his way over, he stops off at one of the participating restaurants and asks for a favor.]

[Not much later, Darin's got a giant platter of fruit that's just a little overripe and meats that are just beyond their throw out date. You know, the usual stuff you find in 'Chef's specials' that restaurants use to try and clear out stock that's beyond it's prime.]

[And he's got two chilled bottles of rum.]

[He puts one of the cold bottles right on Guzma's neck just to screw with him, then nods to a nice dank alleyway that's out of the way so Guzma can release his team.]

Come on. This obviously isn't your scene.

FUCK!! BASTARD!

[Did he have to yell like that? Probably not, but he did! The shout is paired with his immediate recoil from the chilled bottle, his hand slapping his neck where the bottle was placed, as he whips a glare Darin's way.

It takes him a moment to get over that spike of indignation, to acquiesce towards the alleyway, still scowling at Darin.]

What was your first damn clue, huh?

[As they make their way, he might be swiping for that bottle Darin accosted him with just a moment ago.]

The fact that if someone tried to give you another of those 'Heroes Risen' shirts I'd have to pull you off from hanging 'em with it.

[He doesn't pull the bottle away, but relinquishes it happily. Then he sets the tray down on the ground and backs away so Guzma can release his team.]

How you holdin' up aside from all of this praise?

Tch, if only they'd catch the hints.

[As Darin puts down the platter, Guzma opens the rum to take a swig of it. Wiping his mouth with the back of his arm, he then moves to release his team—the hoard of them all staring at the food, before looking to Guzma. He nods, but then levels a glare at Scizor. The mantis doesn't move as the others help themselves, before he looks to Darin.]

Fine 'nough.

[He's worried about Lucina, but he's...not about to tell him that. He takes another drink, looking to Scizor. The two lock gazes for a moment before Guzma nods, and Scizor then joins the frenzy.]

...I told her, by the way.

[Something about that silent exchange between Guzma and Scizor catches Darin's attention.]

...Everything okay? [Said with a raised eyebrow. The question is as much in regards to that exchange with Scizor as it is in reference to Lucina and the whole Lusamine thing.]

[Guzma's stare lingers on Scizor for a bit, before he looks away, focusing his attention on Darin again.]

Yeah--Scizor crossed me back in the storm is all.

[That's all he says about that, before quickly moving on.]

Anyway, she took it...well. Guess you were right--and I'm sure someone as annoyingly astute as you probably can guess my decision in the matter.

[Darin leans against the wall and takes a nice, long sip of rum. He doesn't answer for what probably seems like awhile for him. And likely being kept in suspense is only making Guzma more cranky.]

[When Darin speaks, it's obvious he's choosing his words with great care.]

...You really helped out. The OTO assault and everything...

M'not about to go on a long-winded thing about how you've changed for the better or that you made any kind of right choice. It'd...I dunno. It'd sound like gloating and I don't want that. What I want to express...is appreciation.

...M'glad you had my back during the assault on OTO. And m'glad that...you chose to fight for the unfamiliar rather than what you knew. M'glad that Lucina means enough to you to fight for.

[He takes another long drink.]

...Thanks, Guzma.

[He stops short of calling him a friend because he knows Guzma would never accept that. Not yet anyways. Whatever they've got going here, this rivalry, it's good enough. It suits them.]

[When Darin takes a bit longer than anticipated in replying, Guzma lets his gaze go back to the ridiculous bugs gorging themselves. Watching as Pinsir tries to wrestle food from Golisopod, and being pinned down like he's nothing but an ant. Then how Masquerain rests on Golisopod's back for a fat nap. Scizor having his fill is now sitting to the side watching the others, and Ariados is picking at this and that, wanting to try each morsel available.

He's about to take a drink of his own rum, when Darin finally speaks, and when he does Guzma's left staring at him. For a moment, he wants to get indignant, but then as he continues...Guzma's not sure what to think. What to feel.

Being thanked and appreciated like this? So genuinely... He can feel a heat to his face that causes him to turn his face away with a forced scowl. God, Darin...what's he supposed to do with this?]

Tch! Don't get this all twisted--I wasn't goin' outta my way no more than I would for myself. I live here too, whether I like it or not, ya boy wasn't 'bout to just lay down and take it!

[Darin chuckles softly to himself.]

Yeah, I know. There were no altruistic intentions. Just doing what Big Bad Guzma does best; survive. Things just happened to line up that way.

[He knows it's clearly bullshit, but he doesn't gain anything by jabbing this wasp's nest in the shape of a trash human.]

So...the world's safe. What's next for Big Bad Guzma?

Exactly.

[He punctuates that with an aggressive swig of rum, letting Darin's question hang for a bit. It's more so meant to come across as making him wait, but maybe part of it is him figuring it out himself. Once he puts the bottle down, he shrugs casually, playing still to his front.]

Gotta get back to my team. Been gone too long--between portin' out for a week, and then all this? Bet those little shits are missin' me somethin' fierce, yo.

[But what he intends to do with them all, is another story. Still, he plans to keep up the gang front, after all, he loves stirring up trouble, but at the same time... Hm.]

Tupp's been busy, M'sure.

Yeah, you gotta get to rebuilding the factory proper, right?

[Darin takes another drink.]

...Oh, right. Holidays are coming up. Dunno if you have the winter holidays back home in your world, but I know a lot of your team are natives so...maybe do something for 'em? If you need help, I'm sure things are gonna be a lot more quiet on my end...

The old one's a lost cause. We relocated.

[He offers a bit blandly, he doesn't want to portray the fact he's a little upset about the loss, because it can be replaced, and now has been.]

Yeah? I know there's some holiday here that's like one elsewhere in my world. We got one kinda similar in Alola--Mele Kalikimaka. It's a real big family ordeal or whatever.

It ain't traditionally Alolan, think it's a rip off that other holiday with the fat dude and the big beard. But, if what I'm thinkin' about this holiday here is anythin' like the one I'm used to, then I got it covered.

Yeah, there's Thanksgiving in a few weeks and then Christmas next month...

Oh, good. At least you won't be so caught off guard like I was. I gotta say, when I started hearing about all of this Santa stuff, I was wondering what the hell the people of this world were on.

Heh, yeah I bet. I mean, it's kinda weird that Santa's here too, but I guess some things—or people—are universally consistent...well, I guess for some universes.

[Sipping more of that rum—honestly, he probably shouldn't be drinking all of this on top of...what he's already had. That buzz he's been nursing with drinks that would put most college frat boys to shame is all going to come to a head once he finishes this damn bottle of rum.

OH WELL.]

Wonder if he's got Stantler and the whole works, or if there's something different here he uses.

[HE SURE IS TALKING ABOUT SANTA LIKE HE'S...A REAL FUCKING PERSON, ISN'T HE?]

...Stantler?

Wait...Santa's a trainer?

[...Wait. Guzma believes in Santa?????]

[Believe isn't quite the word for it. After all, do you have to believe in someone when they exist? Kinda takes a different connotation when it's about someone who is, in fact, alive.]

I guess so, but it ain't like he's goin' out and earnin' gym badges or nothin', heheh... But yeah, Stantler, it's like the uh...shit, what're they called—oh! Deer!

They're like the beasts here they call deer.

It's shouts and squarks of reporters that catch her attention and less the fact it's Guzma. Though, even once she does notice him, it doesn't change what she does.

Which is you know, be a kid who's about to (try) and tell adults off.

"Maybe if you left him alone," Mizuki starts, hands on hips and looking every bit like she's A/ attempting to be stern (zero help from any pokemon, hers are all hiding in their pokeballs) and B/ not laugh her head off at the poor sods who've lost their equipment to a golisopod. "Your things wouldn't get eaten. Don't you know it's rude to annoy people who just saved the world?"

It takes a moment for Guzma to realize who exactly is coming to his aid—not that he needs it, of course! But if someone else can get their attention off of him, that works for him!

"Tch, when a kid's got more sense than—" stopping mid sentence, he stares at her, realizing this isn't just any kid, but rather Mizuki. His scowl darkens, yet he makes no move to accost her. Merely mean mugs her for a moment, before looking back to the idiots mourning their destroyed equipment, "Anyway, point is: beat it, before big bad Guzma beats y'all down!"

That seems to do it. Well, between Golisopod destroying their shit, this small child calling them out, and Guzma's threats, they're pretty keen on heading the fuck out. Once they're a good distance away, Golisopod turns his attention to Mizuki, letting out a low churr at her in greeting (while still chewing on a camera).

"Gimme that!" Guzma snaps, as he approaches Golisopod, trying to fish it out of his mouth, the giant bug looking rather unhappy about it, but not exactly fighting him on it. It definitely seems like Guzma's going to ignore her, but after he's retrieved the chewed up and saliva drenched remains of a camera, he glances at Mizuki.

"Whaddaya want, kid? Tryin' to get on my good side or somethin'?"

Golisopod gets a small smile and wave, but Mizuki's mindful this isn't her pokemon, and pokemon tend to follow their chosen human. That he's greeting her is a bonus, not a given.

The same with Guzma even addressing her now the crowd has scattered for the moment.

She sighs and shakes her head, looking up (and up.) at him with a head tilt. "No. You don't like me and that's ok, but that doesn't mean I'd allow them to pick on you. You just saved the world after all."

"Tch, 'pick on me'? I dunno what you thought you saw, but that wasn't what was happenin'." He gruffs at her as he tosses the saliva-coated hunk of junk off somewhere into the crowd. Not giving a shit if it hit someone. Maybe hoping a little it did.

"Also, who gives a shit if I helped with that? I wasn't tryin' to be no hero, was just lookin' out for me and mine, that's all." His gaze falls back to her after his cursory glance to see if anyone got hit, but he's assuming not.

"More than what you did, Ms. Self-Proclaimed-Champ."

"They do, even if you only did it because you're selfish!" She manages out, wincing when it does hit someone. But she ignores it; she has to. Guzma will do what he wants, and she really doesn't feel up to getting into a battle with him.

But at the same time, she will if she must.

Mizuki flinches at the accusation and maybe her voice is a little snapped, a little curt. Sure, she didn't run into the sandstorm like pretty much everyone, but she'd like to think she did her bit, too. "Some of us had to stay behind and make sure the natives weren't hurt or put in more danger by the distortions or the Ultra Beasts or zombies while everyone else was heroes!"

She regrets her choice, just a little. But she won't be shamed for it.

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Guzma | OTA

YOU SPITEFUL BITCH

SPITE IS WHAT KEEPS HIM ALIVE

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II. I HOPE THIS IS OK!!!

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