As soon as filming had wrapped at the dock, Ceruledge hadn't wasted time in getting to work. Saying her goodbyes to Armarouge, she, alongside a small part of the staff, had made their way over to the film tent.

It was a small set-up; a simple brown tent in the northern part of the woods, far enough from the primary living space to not be found easily by the contestants once the game began, but also not too far as to make journeying to it uncomfortable. Outside of the tent were a handful of trailers, each filled with monitors for the cameras set-up across the island, and inside the tent itself were several tables, a tv system, and just about all their leftover film equipment. At the most it was serving as a makeshift storage area for anything and everything they may need over the course of the competition.

Including the logs of all the invitations they sent out.

"Sweep the auditions and check the logs," Cyclizar commanded simply as the interns quickly spread out to get work done.

Beside him, Ceruledge heaved out a sigh, shaking her head and grumbling, "Of course something had to go wrong. Just another load of crap to deal with…"

"It's not that surprising; every production has its own share of issues," Cyclizar muttered, "the unexpected always has a bad way of veering into my path…"

That wording quickly caught her attention, the co-host turning to the lizard. He…Oddly looked unsettled. Begrudged, maybe even disappointed. She couldn't quite tell; she was never great with this kind of thing. Even in the moment, she didn't feel the need or will to bring this up. Instead, all she said was-

"Well, let's get started," she took a few steps forward, saying, "maybe we can knock this out quickly."

"Yeah. Yeah let's do that," Cyclizar nodded, quickly separating and going off to do his own work. Notably, the interns she had brought with them took quickly to avoiding him; just as Armarouge had told her, the lizard didn't seem especially popular on set, not that he helped with his constant moodiness.

But that didn't matter; right now, what she had to do was figure out who the extra link in this cast was. She mentally prepped…Then stepped forward.

"Alright, let's get this crap over with."


Following the "incident" at the dock, most of the players had wandered off into the forest, in search of this currently mythical bonfire pit their excitable host had spoken of. And unfortunately, their efforts to find said pit had taken the better part of two hours and consisted largely of just complaining and cursing. For the betterment of all parties involved, including that of the listener and the editor, we've chosen to cut as much for time.

Instead, there the cast were, standing in a short clearing amongst the woodland, looking on neutral enough despite the time they had wasted. The area was adorned with several unlit tiki torches, along with several wooden poles with thin strings connecting one another, and allowing various paper lanterns donning the colors of red, orange, and yellow to hang off. A firepit surrounded by various rocks stood at the edge of the clearing, ash from the various prior fires still lingering around it. Rounding out the look were well over a dozen wooden stumps just in front of the firepit, which acted as makeshift chairs, something half the cast quickly took advantage of. On the whole, the place had a sort of tacky quality to it, though at the very least wasn't unpleasant to look at.

And standing before the players was Armarouge, the host of their ire, as she sent them a sheepish grin. "So…Sorry again everybody for the lack of directions! Still getting the hang of this whole hosting thing, heh…" Her attempt at lightening the mood was swiftly met with harsh glares, as she flinched back. "...Anyway! Everyone, welcome to Total Drama Island!"

The contestants reluctantly began to focus, listening to Armarouge as she explained, "This little slice of paradise will be your home for the next eight weeks…And uh…Not the island resort you were all promised." And upon receiving the expected glares, the hostess flinched, giving them a sympathetic look. "Sorry…"

Some of the various players grumbled in response, but otherwise quieted down as he continued, "Those standing around you will be your only company for the next eight weeks. You'll be seeing them everywhere, so I'd recommend getting acquainted."

"They'll also be your cabin mates." Kirlia turned to Dubwool, offering a smile- which was ignored as Dubwool abruptly belched, laughing to herself as the psychic inched away in alarm.

"Your competition." Noivern and Bisharp glanced at each other, both quickly scowling to themselves and turning away.

"And, of course, your friends!" Gloom was barely paying much mind to the host's explanation, especially as a tail tapped him on the shoulder. He turned, seeing nothing, unaware that Espeon was on his other side, his tail hovering just over the weed's head.

"Hey uh…Dude, sorry to interrupt and all," Sneasel called out, holding her hand aloft, "but I was sorta wondering where the resort was? Wanted to drop off my things."

Some of the campers in the know flinched at the question, while those still uninformed turned toward the host with mutual curiosity.

Realizing she had to bite the bullet on this, Armarouge sighed, saying, "Oh…Right. So, while some of you already know, I guess we never formally explained…There is no resort…"

"...I'm sorry, what?" Noivern hissed, narrowing his eyes.

"It was sort of an idea by the marketing department," she explained, "sorry to get everyone's hopes up."

"'Getting our hopes up' would be promising pizza then revealing it was the cheap kind served in elementary school," Honchkrow started, before scoffing, "this is flat out false advertising."

"...Again…Really sorry," Armarouge whispered.

The cast groaned in unison, Salazzle stepping forward with a glare, "So where the Hell are we supposed to sleep them?"

"Oh, are we gonna be sleeping outside?!" Dubwool gasped, giddily chirping, "I can teach ya'll how to make a mud cubby! Me and my cousins would do that sorta thing all the time." Most of the cast sent her various disgusted glares, though oddly enough, Samurott perked a brow at the proposal, humming to himself at the offer.

"Uh...No, we have provided housing for all of you," Armarouge confirmed, "namely, two cabins, each large enough to occupy you while providing free space. So…Maybe not a resort, but it could be worse!"

"Um," Kirlia started, turning to stare at the dirt-covered, half-attentive Cranidos, before asking the host, "they're not co-ed, right?" The dinosaur snapped out of his phase for long enough to growl at the girl, causing her to flinch back.

"Nope! Guys will get one side of each cabin and the girls will get the other," Armarouge explained, before quickly adding, "oh, and we do have cameras in there, so…Please, nobody try anything gross."

A handful of the cast couldn't help but blush at the implication, though it seemed to completely fly over the heads of others, as Corphish looked around in confusion, "What, like…Don't change in them?" He got a couple looks as he looked himself over, "Aren't we all mostly naked anyway?" Luxray couldn't help but facepalm nearby, while Mienshao just chuckled.

"Oh, and as of now, you can all consider yourself the first honorary campers…" Armarouge started, pausing for dramatization, before announcing, "of Camp Ivy, the official Summer camp of Valencia Island!"

"Yet you couldn't think of a name that was a bit more unique?" Drifblim asked. "Weak."

"Anyway, now that that's explained, the way things will work around here is simple," the hostess began, "we will be going off a three-day system. First day, including this one, will be your break day. You'll have time to travel the campgrounds, talk to each other, and do just about anything you feel needs getting done. The only thing required of you is that you do gotta eat at least twice a day; gotta make sure you don't drop dead out of the blue. Challenges will happen on the second and potentially third days, with the vote usually occurring on the third day no matter what. So, sometimes you'll be voting someone off right after a challenge, and other times you'll get a bit of free time to figure things out."

"Not that we'd need it," Cranidos snorted, "it's not hard figuring who you hate the most."

"True, but something tells me that definitely won't be the way everyone votes," Armarouge countered, and indeed, already wandering eyes began to pass over the cast, wondering to themselves who may fall victim to the game first.

But such thoughts were tossed aside as soon as that smell lingered in the air, their heads turned toward the sky with interest. That buttery, sweet sensation of warm, baked goods…It was intoxicating.

"Heyo, come and grab yourself a snack; hot and fresh out the oven for you's people!" A nasally voice called out, a little rat walking onto the scene holding a pan full of goodies; poffins, a Pokémon's favorite sweet.

"Ah, yes, great timing!" Armarouge clapped her hands together, before casting a hand toward the rodent, "Everyone, meet Rattata, our assistant cook! We knew not all of you had the chance to have breakfast, so we asked them to whip something together for you."

"Ey, how're 'ya doin?" Rattata threw up a fingergun, before stepping up, "And c'mon now, you heard the lady; dig in!"

After a moment of waiting to see how everyone else reacted, the cast gave into their cravings, Gliscor leading the pack and nabbing one of the poffins with his iron grip. "Oh yeah, come to papa." Corphish opened his mouth to ask something, but shut up at the scorpion's glare.

Within a few moments, everyone had a poffin of their own. Even the handful who claimed to not need it, such as Bronzong or Gengar, eventually gave in and took one each as well thanks to Rattata's insistence.

"Well, go on; dig in everybody!" Armarouge declared, and seizing their opportunity, they took their first bites…

Oddly, there…Wasn't a lot of flavor. It was faintly sweet with a bit of a buttery snap, but it felt oddly held back, as if the proper flavors hadn't been prepared correctly. Disappointment flooded over most of them at such a thing, something Bronzong couldn't help but smirk at as he looked over his own uneaten pastry.

"Ah, misery; an old friend o' mine, one who chooses their victims so delicately and without favorites," he mused, snickering lowly as he prepared to toss the food aside- before noticing something.

Whether it be dripping out of the poffins themselves or hanging off the lips of those who took a bite, the jam…It was a strange color. Or more accurately, a strange pair of colors. Each poffin's inside was a toss-up between two of them; you either got blue, or yellow.

And after noticing as much, Bronzong looked down at his own poffin, and with hardly any effort, pried it open, revealing the thick blue jam inside. It didn't take him long to work out the reasoning for it. "Hmmm…Quite the twist; masking randomization under the guise of a treat." He twisted a stare toward the hostess. "How…Quaint."

Barely containing her excitement, Armarouge nodded along, "Yep; everyone, if you could take a look at your poffins, you'll see the jam inside is fairly unique!" The cast did as instructed, and while they did so, she explained, "Now then, if you got the bluk berry blue jam, please stand over to my right, while if you got the aspear berry yellow jam, stand to my left."

After a moment of looking between their own poffin and the other contestants, they all soon did as instructed and began to make their way over…Or in Joltik's case, was trying futilely to pull hers apart. "Break you infernal beast; reveal to me the color of your insides!"

"Here, let me get that for you," Mienshao said, leaning down and picking it up, Joltik hanging off it with all her effort. With a laugh, the fighting-type pulled it apart, revealing the yellow jam within, "oh hey, look. We're on the same team."

Joltik, however, didn't look especially please, jumping off and landing on the grass, "I didn't need your help."

"I know, but this sped things along now, didn't it?" Mienshao chuckled, dropping a scrap of it in front of the spider that was more appropriately sized. "Now c'mon, let's get a move on." Joltik continued to growl, but followed along, dragging the poffin's fluff into her mouth all the while.

Standing to her right was Absol, Bronzong, Druddigon, Espeon, Gloom, Lampent, Luxray, Mismagius, Noivern, Salazzle, Samurott, Staraptor, and Typhlosion.

Meanwhile, to her left was Bisharp, Corphish, Cranidos, Dubwool, Gengar, Gliscor, Honchkrow, Joltik, Kirlia, Mienshao, Scolipede, Sneasel, and Zangoose.

…And Drifblim hadn't moved so much as an inch, currently still chewing, relaxing onto his stump and staring at the sky as if nothing was happening.

"Uh…Drifblim?" He briefly snapped out of his daze to look at Armarouge. "Your…Poffin's color?"

Drifblim swallowed his snack, offering a relaxed look, "Was I supposed to pay attention to that?"

After a moment of just…Taking in what he just said, Armarouge sighed, "Well…I guess we'll figure that out later." Looking between the two groups, she muttered, "And you know what…It's equal sides now anyway! So it worked out."

"Yep, you're welcome everybody," Drifblim snickered, relaxing once more as some of the cast gave him an unimpressed glare.

"Anyway," Armarouge held up a yellow, rolled-up banner, tossing it into the halved crowd on her right, allowing Bisharp to catch it, "to those who got the yellow jam, from this moment on, you'll officially be known as..."

The banner unrolled, revealing the silhouette of a lean, avian dinosaur, a strange mix between a bird and reptile, with an extended head barking out with bared teeth. "The Screaming Archeops!" Armarouge declared.

Gliscor gave the flag a pointed sneer, "That's it? Sorta dorky, don't you think."

Armarouge gave him a look, though shrugged and walked forward to take the banner back, only for Bisharp to pull it away. "It's fine." She gave the scorpion a glare, to which Gliscor scoffed.

With a smile, Armarouge retreated to her spot and turned to the remaining cast, "Which leaves the rest of you." Once more, Armarouge tossed a banner to the remaining team, though this one was blue instead. As soon as Absol caught it, she said, "And to those who got the blue jam, you guys will now be known as..."

Their banner unrolled as well, revealing the silhouette of a large, barbaric turtle with hunched shoulders and massive arms, held up in a way to resemble boxing. "The Killer Carracosta!"

"Oooooooh, so cute!" Absol complimented, only to lose her grip on the flag, "Oops!" The flag landed on the unlit fire pit...Which then erupted into flames! The campers flinched back from the fire, watching their banner burn away into nothing as Absol leaned back. "...Sorry."

Armarouge stared at the fire, unsure if she was confused or impressed…Or both, "...Samurott?" The sea lion sprayed a water gun at it, putting out the fire. "Thank you, and we'll grab a new flag for you guys later. But we don't have enough in the budget for more than two, so please don't set this one on fire." Absol slinked back at this, though Salazzle and Typhlosion also inched back, not wanting to take the risk of getting on the host's bad side.

Something Lampent didn't even seem to think about, staring at the soaked firepit and reaching out- only to be pulled back by Druddigon. "Aw…"

"I have a question, divine hostess of ours," Staraptor spoke up, "why have we been given team names based on such...Strange species. Is there any sort of narrative importance to them?" She smirked. "Perhaps an illusion to our potential to devolve into sickened savages, posed against unruly, demanding modernism; a front of the past versus the future!"

"...Uh- sure! Yep, you got it!" Armarouge nodded along, not really sure what she was agreeing to but thinking it sounded cool; to be honest, she hadn't actually picked the team names herself. She was fairly sure they were devised by a fox in the marketing department. "Now, with that all settled, this show is officially on the move," Armarouge started up once more, doing a little train pump with her hand, "all aboard the game train! Choo choo!"

She was promptly met with deadpan looks, much to her embarrassment, "A-Anyway at all points in the competition from here on out, you'll be recorded, whether you know it, or not. Everything you do can, and likely will, appear on tv." Blank stare...Then a thumbs-up. "No pressure."

Too late. The pressure fell over the cast like a wet blanket, and even the most stoic among them appeared horrified...Except Samurott, who seemed like he couldn't care any less.

"Hehehe," Drifblim snickered, leaning back on the log and smugly stating, "well, this is gonna be fun." He continued chuckling to himself, either ignoring or oblivious to the glares he was receiving.


"Oh yeah, viewers! We forgot to bring this up to you earlier!" Armarouge started, only now, she was in a far different space than any we had seen prior. And likely for good reason; she was sitting in a narrow wooden outhouse, with many inappropriate images carved into the back wall, and a gross sort of moss growing off in the bottom right corner. It was certainly not an appealing sight, both to look at, and no doubt to be inside of.

"This is the outhouse confessional," Armarouge began explaining, "here, campers will have some time to themselves to say whatever's on their mind, talk strategy, or simply give them a chance to get away from everything going on outside."


Drifblim was slouched forward, a dull look on his face as he flipped the roll of toilet paper, watching the paper drip toward the ground as he turned toward the camera, "All these guys are super overthinking everything if you ask me; like, yeah, it's a game or whatever, but everyone's acting so tense. It's like…Get over it."

"But whatever, they can overcomplicate themselves into an early grave if they want, ain't no skin off my back," he shrugged, before humming out, "and besides, it'll just make things easier for me. Sure, I don't got a team yet, but that's whatever; it'll work itself out. And while it does that, all those dorks will be too busy getting on each other's nerves early. And when that happens, it'll offer me a nice opportunity to weasel my way into a good spot early on."

He chuckled lazily, leaning back with his arms around his balloon body, "Yeah, I'm here to play, no biggie. And sure, I'd rather not deal with all the work, but there's a lotta money on the line. And besides, I'll get in my naps when I can…" He yawned, muttering, "Speaking of…" He laid back, and soon began snoring.


The campers were currently following a gravel path through the forest. They had already divided themselves into their two teams; Archeops in the front, and the Carracosta in the back.

"Alright, campers, we've arrived!" Armarouge called out, the cast piling onto the land on mass.

It was a relatively unimpressive piece of land. Set-up in a large clearing surrounded by the treeline were two cabins, angled perpendicular to each other and showing off their team's colors, with the right cabin accented by yellow while the left cabin was accented with blue. On the whole, however, they looked relatively identical, being one-story, having faded gray walls that were clearly suffering from decay with age, and brown roofs with slim chimneys that seemed to have been overtaken with vines and moss. Both cabins had two doors and two windows parallel to each other as well.

"Alright, Archeops, your cabin is in the east," Armarouge gestured to the right cabin, "and Carracosta, you're in the west," she finished, gesturing to the left before walking off proudly, as the campers walked over to get acquainted with their new living arrangements.


One door to the Archeops cabin was thrown open with a kick, as the campers were met with the too uninteresting sight of your generic, Summer camp cabin. A nasty rug laid in the center of the room, and against the back wall was a desk with an oil lamp, a bookrack, and a potted plant, a window just above it allowing sunlight into the room. Three bunk beds were laid up against the walls; two on the right side, one on the left. Beside the leftmost bunk was a stove with a pile of firewood next to it. The only thing left of note was the dresser next to the door, and the mirror on the right wall beside the pair of bunks.

"Woah, dudes," Sneasel muttered as she stepped in and quickly became mesmerized by the old-school architecture, "it's like I'm back at Summer camp or something."

"Probably the point, my dude," Zangoose replied, pushing past the weasel with a laidback grin.

"Uh...Yeah, like, duh," Sneasel nodded along with a faint, embarrassed blush, "I knew that."

Soon, the rest of the Oranguru girls had entered, as they all quickly got to work making themselves comfortable. Well, except for one. "Well...That's quite peculiar," Kirlia muttered, glancing around the room in absolute befuddlement.

"What is?" Mienshao asked, currently prodding at one of the lower bunks to test its sturdiness.

"Well, I could have sworn I had my luggage with me at the dock," she answered, "of course, I understand it not being on hand after our…Strange transportation."

"You mean kidnapping?" Zangoose asked, plopping down on the bunk Mienshao was inspecting, much to the ermine's frustration.

"Uh…Yes, that," Kirlia whispered, before refocusing herself, "I was hoping upon our arrival, they'd have been here waiting for us. Do you think they've been held up?"

Some of the girls exchanged a wary look, while Sneasel just asked aloud, "We were supposed to pack bags?" Zangoose stifled a laugh, shaking her head as Mienshao stepped forward.

"Sorry to break it to you, hon, but we weren't supposed to bring anything with us," Mienshao told the psychic, "chances are that luggage of yours might've been left back at the port."

Kirlia flinched at this statement, looking over the cabin in confusion, which slowly grew into discomfort, as the realization of what she'd have to deal with as a living space slowly fell over her. "...O-Ohhh…I…"

Mienshao picked up on the tone of her voice pretty quick, leaning down and offering a smile, "What, this your first time away from home?"

"...You can say that," Kirlia stated, though didn't meet her eyes, something Mienshao noticed but didn't make an effort to comment on.

"Well, don't worry yourself over it, 'kay?" Mienshao said, "It ain't so bad."

"Yeah, dude, I've lived in much worse spots," Sneasel joked, "I mean, look! We got a window!" She pointed out, oddly gleeful when adding, "And it ain't cracked! Bonus!"

"...We'll get into the implications of that later," Mienshao decided, turning back to Kirlia, "but seriously, things are chill. And you got some roomies to help you out, so don't worry yourself over it, alright?"

However, Kirlia still looked less than convinced, her mind wandering toward a certain object of interest, one she couldn't get off her mind no matter how hard she tried. "...Yes…Thank you for your words of encouragement, Mienshao," she said, stepping back and toward the door, "now, uh…If you'd excuse me, girls, I have something I must take care of."

Opening the door up, she quickly stepped out, winding out a swift, "Carry on," on her way out, slamming the door behind her."

The girls stared at the door unimpressed in silence, Zangoose eventually breaking it with, "I think that went well." Mienshao rolled her eyes.


Mienshao gave the condition of the confessional a quick lookaround, eventually sighing, "Look, don't get all the comforting I was doing all twisted; I ain't exactly an outdoors gal, and I haven't left my hometown since high school. I just know how to keep a level head is all."

Chuckling, she shook her head, "That girl, though? Yeah, nah, she's in over her head and it's showing; she's gonna get eaten alive out here, if not by the bugs, then by people who ain't gonna play as nice as me. Same goes for some of my other roomies too."

After a moment, however, she couldn't help but smile to herself, shrugging and adding, "Still, can't lie; they've got a charm to 'em…You know, in a circus performer kinda way, but hey, charm is charm."


"Back! Back I say!"

The girls flinched at the sound, turning to see Joltik currently perched up on one of the bunks, jumping all over it with a glare directed at the figure before her; Dubwool, who's wide grin gave away her clear amusement at the situation.

"Well shoot, ain't you just a doll!" Dubwool cackled, pushing up on the spider indirectly with a playful smile. "Why if you weren't so dang small and I had any sort of opposable thumbs and all that, I'd give you the meanest pinch on the cheek for your troubles."

"You dare to mock me?!" Joltik spat, growling intensely as she shifted in place. "Back up if you know what's good for you, fool! Or I shall have to slay you!"

"Oh, oh, you lookin' to rumble now," Dubwool asked, her eyes beginning to glow with anticipation as she laughed even harder, "cause I'm down. Come at me now, shrimp!"

Static began to form around Joltik, her body shaking in anticipation. Dubwool, meanwhile, was winding herself up, grinding her hooves across the ground with a mad grin on her face. All the while, the other girls could just look on in disbelief.

"Ten bucks on Dubwool," Sneasel whispered.

"Fight, fight, fight!" Zangoose called out.

And taking the cheering as a sign to start, the two warriors let out battlecries-

Only to suddenly be pried apart, pushed away from each other by an interfering force of nature in the form…Of Bisharp, having taken a moment to stop her bunk selection to break up the fight before it could, much to…Most of the girl's relief. "Boo," Zangoose grumbled.

"You two," Bisharp spoke, her voice monotone and apathetic to their intentions, "knock it off."

"Aw, c'mon now, we were just playin'," Dubwool complained, glaring at the iron woman for her sudden interruption.

"I do not play," Joltik spat out in response, to which the ram just waggled her eyebrows in response.

"You," Bisharp turned to the spider, stating sternly, "stop picking fights."

"Ha! And why should I listen to you?" Joltik threw back in the soldier's face.

"Because if you want a stable roof over your head, you'll want to keep the damage to the building's foundation to a minimum," the steel-type replied simply. And as much as the spider wanted to fight this statement, she found herself at a loss. After a moment, she just scoffed and turned away.

Nodding, Bisharp then turned to Dubwool, "And you, don't egg her on further." The ram just blew a raspberry at her. "...Mature. Alright, I've decided; I'll be bunking with you."

Taken aback, the ram jolted back, rambling, "I'm sorry 'dere, what did you just say to me? Where's this coming from?"

"You've proven a nuisance; if I let you bunk with this one, it'll only get worse," Bisharp explained, pointing at Joltik, the spider barely acknowledging as much with more than a glare, "and I doubt the others have the patience to deal with you."

"Oh yeah? Well what's that say 'bout you, huh?" Dubwool glared.

"It says I can handle anything you throw at me," Bisharp stated, leaning forward, her expression still blank, "have I not made that clear."

Returning the stare, the two were locked into position for what felt like hours…And yet, just as quickly as it started, it ended…With a laugh. "Heh, alright then." Dubwool gave the girl a crooked smile, walking up to a bunk while saying, "I can tell you'll be a real hoot to live with…Now, I call the top!"

As the ram heaved herself up onto the top bunk of one of the beds (with great difficulty), and with the matter now dealt with, Bisharp turned to the other girls, stating, "As you were," before walking to her newly found bottom bunk, the other girls feeling just as lost as they had moments ago.

"...Man, I lost ten bucks," Sneasel sighed, Zangoose snickering beside her.


Bisharp was seated, her arms folded in front of her, a hardened glare on her face as she stared down the camera like a statue. It was unnerving to say the least.

"I am Bisharp. I come from Aspertia Town…" She shrugged. "That's all you need to know. I'm going to win this show."

She turned away from the camera. She had decided she was done talking.


Screaming Archeops: Girl's Cabin

(TOP: Zangoose / BOTTOM: Sneasel) | (TOP: Dubwool / BOTTOM: Bisharp)
(TOP: Kirlia / BOTTOM: Mienshao) | TOP / BOTTOM: Joltik)


Meanwhile, in the other half of Archeops cabin, the guys were having a...Bit of an issue. Namely, they had four bunks, and six of them. Meaning, even if Drifblim were ultimately added to their team, one of them would get the lone bunk all to themselves...

"Alright mates, let's just take a moment here to think," Honchkrow began to discussion, "I'm sure we can all talk this out like rational adults."

"Agreed." Gliscor nodded...Before adding, "Because I say it's mine! Any objections."

"Yes." Cranidos replied bluntly.

"U-Uhhhhh, i-if it's fine with everyone, I think I'd like it," Gengar said with a nervous jitter, "I mean, I don't really know any of you-"

"None of us know each other, genius," Scolipede hissed out.

"R-Right, sorry! I just mean I don't want to be around any of you-" Gengar watched as his cabin mates turned their glares back on him, as he held up his hands in defense, "w-what I meant was-"

"Why are we even acknowledging him?" Gliscor asked. "I get the bed. I'm the biggest, strongest guy in here!"

"Wanna bet..." Cranidos growled.

"Oh, wanna actually fight now, little man?" Gliscor asked with a wide grin. "Come on, kid, let's dance!"

The dinosaur's eyes went wide with rage, "The Hell did you call me?!"

"You heard me!"

"I heard it too," Corphish said out loud to nobody in particular, before suddenly getting pushed aside by the pair of men, their faces pressed against each other for dominance.

All the while, from across the room, Scolipede stared on apathetically…Before turning to the bed he was beside, and humming.

After a few moments of the two's little alpha-off, a certain bird stepped in, "Woah, woah, woah, hold yourselves back, lads!" Honchkrow bawked out, pushing between the two and saying, "We ain't having a darn fist fight on the first day; we ain't animals!"

"Yes we are," Corphish pointed out.

"We're all totally rational, decent guys, right?" Honchkrow asked, as Gliscor and Cranidos relaxed back from their stances. "There has to be a simple solution to our little conundrum."

"Hey, dumbasses."

The entire room turned at this, and saw Scolipede, standing beside a bunk bed…Only it was completely covered from head to toe in a thick, steaming purple slime of some kind, bubbles imploding in on themselves into stacks of boiling sludge. Everyone couldn't help but flinch, as he looked on with a deadpan look.

"...Oh no, would you look at that," he started, dramatically, and apathetically, speaking of the scene, as he continued, "it appears someone screwed up; these beds are covered in poison. Who in this room can handle sitting in the stuff?" He raised one of his hundred tiny hands…Nobody else in the room did. "...Oh? Really? Man, what a shame, I was so looking forward to a bunkmate too." He shrugged, "Guess I have to go solo for the good of the group…"

Scolipede flopped lethargically onto the bottom bunk and immediately started snoring as loudly and obnoxiously as one possibly could.

The rest of the occupants stared at the slumbering centipede, as Corphish managed a smile. "Cool, everything worked out in the end." The other boys groaned.


"People like to get all mad at me all the time for speaking my mind and getting shit done, but it's not my fault everyone just loves acting fake and wasting time," Scolipede grumbled, "but hey, their loss. I'd bet I'm the realest fucker out here by a country mile; I've seen shit that'd send most of these assholes crying home to mommy, and frankly, I ain't leaving this dump without that cash in hand."

Snorting, he leaned back and scowled at the camera, "Every day I'm out here is just another test; one that's asking how low I'm willing to go for a chance to make up for all the crap I've had to put up with all my life. And let me tell you; I'm fucking bringing it. These guys wanna get in my way? Then they can ready themselves for a throwdown, one where I'm going all out!"

Hucking a loogie of poison at the wall, he watched it start to melt through before turning a glare on the camera, "Game's on, punks; either get in your head in it, or don't go whining when you get knocked out!"


With the bunk situation settled, Cranidos and Gliscor quickly separated to opposite sides of the room, glaring at each other all the while before reaching their respective top bunks.

Looking over the obvious drama, Honchkrow eventually groaned, flying over the Gliscor's side, "Guess I'mma have to keep an eye on these blokes," as he flew over, he couldn't help but grumble under his breath, "didn't freakin' sign up to be an honorary mum for bird's sake…"

Which left only Gengar and Corphish without bunkmates. The two slowly turned to each other, and both couldn't help but flinch from the initial eye contact. "Sorry," they both muttered on instinct, as they fell into place as statues…Just…Standing beside the lone bunk left.

After a moment of staring, Corphish cleared his throat, holding out a claw, "Hey-" He then pulled it back when he realized Gengar really didn't like the claw being anywhere near him, "Oh, uh…My bad."

Gengar sighed, "No, it's…Fine." Rubbing his face, he muttered, "I'm a little jumpy…"

The two stood around awkwardly another moment. It almost felt like they'd be in this limbo indefinitely…Until Corphish offered an awkward smile, "So uh…Wanna be bunkmates?"

"W-Why?" Gengar stammered. "Couldn't you just sit with Cranidos?"

Corphish blinked, glancing over at the dinosaur- just in time to see him smashing his head into the wall, forming an indent of his skull. A personal marking of his property.

"...Uh…Yeah, I could, but uh," he turned back to the ghost, "I won't lie, you're a bit more in my comfort zone."

Gengar slowly looked toward Cranidos' bunk as well- and similarly flinched. After a moment, he sighed in defeat, nodding, "I…Guess it wouldn't hurt to bunk. B-But can I get the bottom? I don't wanna fall off the top in my sleep."

Corphish perked a brow. "Can't…Can't you fly-" he shut up upon seeing the ghost's wary expression, "...Sure. You can have the bottom."

Gengar nodded thankfully, sitting down on the bunk, as Corphish struggled to climb onto the top with his little claws.


"My mom's always described me as a bit of an introvert," Corphish started, before looking off, "meanwhile my dad just thinks I'm a hermit…Not sure if I really agree with either descriptor that much. I just…Y'know, don't go outside. And get most of my food delivered to the garage. And…I don't do in-person classes…Ever…"

He blinked…Then sighed, "Okay, so I don't get out much. Don't get me wrong, I like talking to people, they just…Don't like talking to me." He awkwardly ran one of his claws over the other, muttering, "I can be kinda awkward…And weird…And hyper specific…And oblivious…You probably get it."

"I think if I have enough time to really get to know the people here though, it'll be easier to talk to them, and y'know, not make them feel super strange around me," Corphish explained, "so…I guess that's the goal. Work on talking to others!" He smiled at the camera. "Wish me luck."


Screaming Archeops: Boy's Cabin

(TOP: Cranidos / BOTTOM: ?) | (TOP / BOTTOM: Scolipede)
(TOP: Corphish / BOTTOM: Gengar) | (TOP: Gliscor / BOTTOM: Honchkrow)


Just like the Archeops, as soon as the Carracosta entered their cabin, it was certainly met with…A reaction to say the least. Or to be more specific in the case of Noivern, he threw on a face, "Ugh…Goodness me, these are our living conditions? I knew they'd be subpar, but wow…This is pitiful."

"Eh, I've lived in worse shitheaps," Gloom grumbled, stomping past the bat with his head low.

Scoffing, Noivern rolled his eyes, "I don't doubt it; you smell like a leaking bathroom."

"Not the worst I've been called, aye," the weed responded, oddly nonchalant about the insult as he started…Searching for something.

"...The Hell are you doing?" Bronzong questioned, "This isn't only your room, fool."

"Don't get 'yer darn panties in a twist, dickhead; I'm just looking for something is all," Gloom spat, continuing his search as he pried up the rug.

The bell narrowed a glare, as Samurott stepped in ever briefly, "He's looking for booze."

"Great, that certainly wouldn't make the smell worse," Noivern sarcastically muttered.

"Look on the bright side," Espeon poked his head in, stepping up to one of the bunks as he smiled, "at least when he's done tearing this place apart, he'll be too tired to talk to us."

"...You make a delightfully solid point," the bat nodded, "I could deal without his breath."

"You're all just a bag of compliments, aren't 'ya?" Gloom growled, before proceeding to ignore them.

Last to step inside, Druddigon looked over the room, and soon pointed out the obvious, "Hey, so…There's four bunks."

"Yes, dear, good job, you did basic math," Noivern mocked while inspecting his claws.

"...No, that's…" he groaned, "I mean, even if Drifblim joins our team, one of us can get a bunk for ourselves. So…Should we figure that out-"

"Already settled."

At the edge of the room, Bronzong's…Unpacked his things? Almost all of which were currently taking up an entire bunk on their own. All sorts of technological dohickeys and tools, as he sits down on the bunk just below them with a hum. They stare at the bell-machine-thingamajig-guy. He notices, looking up…And laughs. "Should have spent less time talking and more time acting, gentlemen."

"I…How…Where did you even keep all this garbage?!" Noivern spat. "None of us have our luggage!"

"The inside of my bell is hollow, moron," Bronzong asserted, "they said we could keep everything we had on our being, so I ensured everything I needed fit in me." He chuckled, holding up a wrench, "Though I suppose not everything has my natural advantages…"

Noivern glared daggers at the bell, while Druddigon just stared on in astonishment, and Espeon…Laughed, "Well played."

Bronzong hummed in response, laying back with a sigh as everyone quickly settled the remaining bunking arrangements.


"Frankly, I almost feel bad for my competition; they truly don't know what they're in for against me," Bronzong bragged, currently tinkering with what looked like a handmade calculator, "for you see, I'm a king of all matter of trades. Beyond being a mathematical and scientific genius, I specialize quite well in conceptualization of artistic projects, team management, historical fact and fiction, with a minor in dance…"

He chuckled to himself, bemused at his own little self-indulgence, "Simply put, I am not just a double nor triple threat…I'm every threat, wrapped up in a ball and fashioned into the perfect competitor. I dare say nobody has nor ever will live up to my sheer competency in…Well…Everything. And as this game progresses, I promise you well; nothing will stop me…"

After a moment though, his mask cracked, and he glared off to the side, "Except…Her…"


"Come on, there's gotta be something in here somewhere," Gloom grumbled to himself as he went through the cabin's dresser, searching every nook and cranny for anything the previous inhabitants had left behind.

And while the drunkard put on the scene, Espeon watched on with a wicked smile on his face, giggling into his paw before asking, "For a weed you're certainly invested in the devil's nectar, aren't you?"

"If wine be made by the devil, then I don't want to meet God," Gloom muttered, grinding his teeth as he slammed the drawer shut, "dammit all. Ain't a drop of the good stuff to be seen. No way someone lived out here sober, there's gotta be something."

"Doubt it," Espeon said with a yawn, "something tells me our goody good host wanted to make sure we wouldn't be getting too tipsy on camera. Not to mention some of the people here look underaged." Gloom ignored the Eeveelution's words as he knocked on the floor, searching for anything hollow. "Suit yourself!"

"I wouldn't bother trying to find any sort of logic with a drunkard, if I were you," Bronzong spoke from his bunk…Before chuckling, "then again, if I were you I'd likely be half as intelligent, so I may be holding you to too high a standard."

Narrowing a glare, Espeon couldn't help but think, "We'll see how true that stacks up in the game…" After a moment though, he shook the bell's words away, turning to another cabin mate out of boredom, and after a moment, the psychic found his target in the form of a dragon, Espeon wondered aloud, "So, anything on your mind?"

Druddigon looked up from the floor, glancing back at the psychic and mumbling, "N-No, not really...Sorry."

"Oh, no apologies needed, just curious," Espeon smiled, leaning back and curling himself up into a ball to lounge on his bed, "though I suppose this offers enough entertainment to last me the hour," he whispered, as he watched Gloom pull himself under one the bunks; Noivern's to be specific, the bat cringing away with a disgusted glare.

"How disgusting," the bat hissed.

"Oi, shut it would 'ya? I'll only be a damned minute," Gloom growled from beneath the bunk, looking out of the bunk for only a moment to glare at the flying-type…

Though as he went back under, he briefly locked eyes with Druddigon. They stared at each other, and to Druddigon, it felt as if it were going on for eternity, those sunglasses masking eye of pure hatred as far as the dragon could tell. Eventually, Gloom retreated back under the bunk, but the thought was now there…

"...I think I'm going to get some fresh air," Druddigon said, standing up quickly and stomping out of the room, making especially sure Gloom didn't get a good look at his face on the way out, "be back...Eventually, I guess."

"Take your time," Espeon waved off the dragon without a second look, laying back with a smile on his face, a low laugh rising from under their breath as Gloom smacked his head against the bed on his way out from under it.

Upon walking out onto the patio, Druddigon breathed in deeply...Then let out a low burst of flames, sizzling, crackling specks of fire rising up from his jaw as he tried feebly to relax, unaware of the smoke rising up from his maw.

"How hasn't he realized who I am yet?" Druddigon thought. "And what do I do if he recognizes me? Is there anything I can do...?" With a shake of his head, he brought up his hands, wiping them down his face. "What do I do?"

Looking up from his hands, Druddigon found his thoughts interrupted by the passing figure of Samurott, as the dragon watched the water-type wander into the nearby woods, disappearing from sight. "What the...Uh, hey, Samurott, where are you going?" After a bout of silence, Druddigon called again, "Samurott!"

And once more, no response.

"...None of my business, I guess," Druddigon grunted, leaning against the railing of the cabin as he sighed, "I can already tell...It's gonna be a long Summer."


"I don't think I made a best first impression with everyone at the dock," Druddigon admitted, "but honestly, when do I ever? I think most people tend to assume the worst in me, and I can't really blame them. I'm not exactly the most social person in the world...Or the most appealing to look at. I wouldn't be surprised if everyone here is scared of me or something. At least Espeon tried to make conversation, but even that didn't exactly feel real."

"It doesn't help that...Just...I know Gloom," Druddigon muttered, his expression straightening as he growled, "from before the show, and he...He's bad news. I don't know what he's doing here, or if he's recognized me. I hope he hasn't...I wanna figure out what's going on, though, before I tell anyone. All I know is whatever reason he has to have signed up for this sorta game...No way was it for good reasons."


Killer Carracosta: Boy's Cabin

(TOP: Espeon / BOTTOM: Gloom) | (TOP: Noivern / BOTTOM: ?)
(TOP / BOTTOM: Bronzong) | (TOP: Samurott(?) / BOTTOM: Druddigon)


Throwing open the door to the cabin, Salazzle cringed back in disgust, her eyes narrowing as she said, "Ew, they…Really weren't understating the cabins, weren't they?"

Typhlosion entered moments later, looking around, then questioning, "What's the issue?"

"The issue? God, where to start…" Salazzle snapped, "Look at this place! It hasn't been cleaned in years!"

Indeed, cobwebs were growing out the corners of the room, and what looked like several floor tiles were jutting out awkwardly. Of the cabins, this was clearly the one that had been hit the hardest with time.

Lampent floated around, humming…Then shrugging, "I've lived places that're worse. Including train tracks."

"Wait…You lived on train tracks?" Luxray asked incredulously. When she received a nod, she added, "You mean…The thing the trains goes on."

Lampent laughed to themselves, though said laugh sound more so half-hearted and barely alive than anything, "Yeah. It was a neat experience; always wonder how comfy they'd be…They weren't! They kept wobbling for some reason too."

The lioness gave the lamp a look, as Mismagius snickered, "Okay, you're my favorite."

"Yay," Lampent cheered, which sounded oddly bored.

After a moment of looking around, Salazzle glared and sat down on one of the bunks, "You know, this wouldn't even be the worst if we were just allowed to have our phones! Or you know…Any of our stuff!"

"Yes, I must agree," Staraptor hummed, hovering a wing over the bedspread than jolting it back as soon as she saw something move under the sheet, "the lighting in this room in its current state is abhorrent! Truly terrible! If I had my things, I'd surely spruce it up to true television standards."

"That…Is not what I meant," Salazzle hissed.

Luxray rolled her eyes at the lizard's complaints, eventually stating, "Look, you can complain all you want, but that doesn't change the fact we're here, the game is on, and you gotta deal with it. So in the words of my dad…Get over it."

Salazzle glared at the concept, ready to say something- only to bite her tongue as Absol nudged her with a smile, "Aw, don't worry, it's not that bad, right? Sure, all our stuff is gone, but when hasn't somebody had to deal with that," Mismagius and Staraptor sent the disaster Pokémon an off-look, unsure what she meant by that, while Typhlosion just nodded along in agreement, "and besides, we're all teammates now! That means we're all here for each other…Right."

Luxray sent the dark-type a deadpan frown, shaking her head as she pulled herself up onto one of the top bunks, a thought process similarly shared by Salazzle herself and Mismagius, the former growling at the dark-type while cradling her lip, while Mismagius basically just stuck out her tongue mockingly and floated away to claim her bed.

Disappointed at the lackluster response, Absol hung her head, looking off. Though, someone at the very least seemed to appreciate her words. "Thank you for the speech, Absol," the disaster mon looked up to see Typhlosion walked up to her, resting a hand on her shoulder and offering a smile, "the sincerity was palpable-"

"And dumb," Mismagius mocked, giggling at the badger's glare.

"...And at the moment, I think our team can use a bit of that," Typhlosion continued.

After a moment, Absol found herself reinvigorated by Typhlosion's words, nodding along and saying, "Yeah…Yeah! No problem, roomie," she chirped, sitting down on the nearest bottom bunk with a grin- as the entire bed abruptly caved in on itself, the rim of it just barely missing her as it collapsed.

The girls just sorta...Stared at what had once been a perfectly usable bed in utter silence. Typhlosion inched herself away from Absol with her hands raised in defense, while Luxray now looked horribly uncomfortable sitting on her own bed now.

"Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh," Absol threw on an awkward smile, giggling anxiously before shrugging, "oops?" She tried to ignore how the others were staring at her.

"So...All in favor of Absol getting the destroyed bunk?" Luxray called out. And like that, every girl raised their hand, to which Absol could only respond with a knowing groan.


Absol glanced around the room a moment, shaking her head as she turned back to the camera with a sheepish grin. "So...I have something to admit...I sorta have this whole...Thing, going on. That sorta makes life a little difficult at points. It's...Well, my doctor described it as, 'supernaturally, unexplainable bad luck'."

"It runs in my family- well, my mom's side of the family, and it got passed down to me. Hopefully the others haven't noticed just yet...People tend to freak out when they find out, not that I can blame them," she threw on a smile, "but hey, it can't be so bad! Everyone here seems great! I just gotta keep smiling and face the game with a smile."

She turned to leave...Only to realize the door had locked. Her eyes went wide, and she tried to pull it open again- only for the whole door to come off, flopping onto the outside. "...Oops."


"Earthquake!" Mismagius called out, her eyes glowing as she began to shake the bed at incredible speeds. "Try not to fall out and break your head! Haha!

Currently stationed on said bed, and getting thrown all around it like a pinball, was Lampent, completely expressionless as they were tossed around. "Wheeeeeeeeeee."

Looking over the scene with an amused smile on her face, Staraptor nodded along, turning back to her bed with a hum, "Nothing like good, old-fashioned bonding to bring us girls together." She turned to her bunkmate, who was currently patting down the lower bunk. "Isn't that right, Typhlosion."

"Hm?" The badger looked up. "Oh…Yes…Right."

As Typhlosion ironed out the bed, heating up her forearm and practically pressing it like an iron, Staraptor couldn't help but throw on a curious look. Inching forward, she tried to pull off a casual look, eventually asking, "So…Typhlosion. I was wondering…How's…Adapting."

The Hisuian variant looked up, "What?"

"Well, no offense and all, darling, but you aren't quite fitting in now, are you?" Staraptor added. "You seem a little…Beyond this sort of thing. You know, no offense, of course."

"...Oh…R-Right," Typhlosion nodded, "well…In a way, yes, this isn't something I'm accustomed to. Truth be told, I've actually only been living in the modern century the past year or so. Before that I was…Well…"

"Dead?" Staraptor asked. When Typhlosion nodded, Staraptor threw a wing over her face dramatically, "Oh, woe is you; brought back to life in a time you do not know, forced to adapt to a world you were never supposed to see…Truly a tragedy."

"I mean…Is it though?" Luxray asked from her bunk. "She's alive. That seems like a win to me."

"And she's immortal now, too," Salazzle added, a bit of contempt obviously radiating from her voice.

Typhlosion couldn't help but flinch, opening her mouth to defend herself- only to find herself cut off by Staraptor abruptly engulfing her in a side hug, her large wing wrapping around the badger like a blanket. "Ignore them and their obvious delusions, Typhlosion; they'll simply never understand your way of life."

The bird then separated, flying up to her top bunk, as the badger stood there, her eyes locked onto the ground and her expression falling, "...That's the problem," Typhlosion whispered under her breath.


Typlosion was slouched forward, shaking her head before straightening herself out. After a quick prayer, she whispered, "It seems sooner than I realized, I've…Found myself unrelatable to my teammates."

"It was expected, of course; I know I'm a bit on the strange side of things, especially compared to what most expect…Though I can't deny, it's a bit upsetting," she said, her frown becoming more apparent, "I know they mean nothing by it, it's why I said nothing back. But the thoughts they've displayed still…Hurt. They hurt a lot quite frankly."

After a moment, she breathed in, then stated sternly, "It's no issue. I am a knight. This…This is nothing. I'll be fine."


Killer Carracosta: Girl's Cabin

(TOP / BOTTOM: Absol) | (TOP: Mismagius / BOTTOM: Lampent)
(TOP: Luxray / BOTTOM: Salazzle) | (TOP: Staraptor / BOTTOM: Typhlosion)


"Alright, everyone taking to their new environment well?" Armarouge asked as she walked to the front of the cabins, where the brunt of the campers had reconvened upon unpacking. Considering a majority of their expressions were flat, Armarouge could tell they didn't quite adjust as well as she was hoping.

"...Great…Anyway," the hostess forced a smile, explaining, "now that you're all settled in, I'm going to give all of you a tour of the campgrounds."

"Ohohoho! A tour you say?" Staraptor chirped out excitedly.

"Why do we need some goshdarn tour?" Dubwool asked. "We can find our way around just fine I bet."

"Oh, I don't doubt that…" Armarouge nodded, "...But we also can't have you wandering off too far. The island's a little…Unpredictable."

"Oooh, ominous," Espeon snarked, a twinge of curiosity in his eye.

"...Anyway, that's enough lollygagging," Armarouge exclaimed, "onward!"

The hostess quickly got on the move, the campers reluctantly following. Though as they were, Druddigon came to a stop, looking around for a moment. "Wait, Samurott's not here, should we get him-" Noticing the group was leaving without him though, he spared one last look at the woods, before shaking his head and running to catch up with the others.


With a low hum, Samurott wandered through the vast, seemingly endless jungle, his expression steely and unwavering as he tried take note of where he was going. Specifically, any landmarks to help him navigate.

The tree with its right side peeled.

The remains of a fallen, decaying wooden fence.

A tree with yellow leaves in contrast to the green leaves all around it.

All of them were good enough as far as landmarks go; certainly better than nothing. If he kept his head in the game he shouldn't have too hard of a time getting back to camp, though it's not as if he planned to return there unless needed. This may be a competition, and it may have rules, but that doesn't mean he can't work around them for the sake of his own means.

Eventually, however, he found exactly what he wanted; a small, circular clearing, about four times his size, which was plenty of room for what he wanted to set-up. Trees surrounded it on all sides, and those trees were tall, going up well enough into the sky, to where if he climbed them he could easily take advantage and get a lay of the land. And of course, he was far enough out now to where he couldn't actually hear the others anymore, which was certainly a plus; right now, the further, the better.

With one last look at his surroundings, Samurott breathed in...Then got to work.


Samurott stared at the camera in silence...Then shrugged. "Hmph."


"This is going nowhere!"

Ceruledge stabbed her blade into the table in frustration. She's gone through most of auditions at this point, and besides being frankly embarrassing in some of their cases, they also were completely useless. They were all completely by the book; even if she tried to be picky they all followed the guidelines set-up for them. There was no giveaway on who could possibly be the extra player…

"Ugh…" She groaned, calling out, "Anybody find anything?" All she got in response was a chorus of 'no'. "...Perfect."

Sighing, she threw the last of that batch of auditions into the box and started walking it back over to storage. As she kneeled down to place it though, she pushed it up against the other boxes a bit too hard. In place of inserting it, another box ended up getting pushed out.

"Great…" She grumbled, leaning down to check this box as well. The outside of it read…

REJECTED.

"...Guess this is where they stored all the auditions that didn't make the cut for the series," she thought, before shrugging, "well, at least it wasn't anything important."

She leaned down, pushing it back into its slot…Though noticed a name sticking out on top. After a moment, she pulled the box out a little bit, and read the name…

Cyrus McCarley.

"...Wait, Cyrus? Isn't that…"

She looked up from the box and glanced across the room, her eyes eventually landing on Cyclizar, currently going through what looked to be a stack of paperwork.

"He…He signed up for the show?"


"Now, beginning the tour, we have the communal washroom!" Armarouge started, gesturing to a square building with gray, wooden walls and a single door. It was fairly small, and probably couldn't host more than four people comfortably.

"Inside there's a handful of toilets and some shower stalls. Though, uh, word of warning," the hostess turned to the cast with a vaguely embarrassed expression, "they sorta don't have any doors. I'm sure that won't be an issue for anyone, though I'm aware some of you may value your privacy."

As expected, most of the campers appeared largely lukewarm to the information, though some of them, most notably Gengar and Sneasel, looked a little perturbed by the information, the latter especially looking as red as a tomato at this point with how hard she was blushing. "I-I'm cool with it."

"Excuse me, madam, but I believe I'm not alone here when I ask…What exactly does communal mean?" Noivern asked reluctantly.

"Oh, I know," Lampent rose an arm, before explaining, "You know how you have a car? And you like being alone in it, and you usually are? Well communal is where instead four strangers are also in your car, but one has a knife and the other is butt naked and listening to ska."

Lampent blinked, lingering in the air as if what she just said made any sense…While everyone around them slowly turned to her in baffled silence.


Lampent waved at the camera strangely, their whole body shifting back and forth like a pendulum while she offered a smile, "I'm Lampent. I'm pretty happy with my life; no real drama or anything. I've traveled anywhere and everywhere under the sun, learning all sorts of new things about the world and myself. Its cool."

"But eventually I realized I've never been on tv before, which I thought was kinda weird," they added, slowly turning their attention downwards, as if in thought, "so…Yeah, this is kinda like a bucket list sorta thing for me. I want to have fun and make the most out of this opportunity. To me, that's all that matters…And collecting some sick souvenirs."


"...Uh, what she meant to say is that you'll all be showering together," Armarouge explained. "this is also the only place in camp that has electrical outlets available; it's also already fully stocked with any and all beauty products you may need to," she sent a wink into the crowd, "gotta look out for each other in this industry."

"That implies any amount of eyeliner can cover up some of the disasters around here," Scolipede snickered, eventually returning the glares being sent his way, including one from the hostess herself.

"...Anyway, since we're all caught up here, we can move along!" Armarouge finished, already moving onto the next location, eyeing the centipede out of the corner of her eye as she did so.

While everyone started to follow the hostess though, someone stopped, looking back at the washroom; Sneasel. A smirk formed over the ice-type's face, and after making sure the others were a fair bit ahead, she doubled back to the washrooms.

Ripping the purple bandana off her arm, she wrapped around her face like a makeshift mask, and pulled her headphones over her ears. Hard rock began to blast through them, as she reached behind her, revealing a spray can.

"Now for a little decoration," she chuckled, pressing down on the spray moments later.


Sneasel still had her mask over her face, spraying a quick skull and crossbones onto the back of the confessional. As soon as her little art piece was done, she let out a laugh, showing it off to the camera, "Check it out; totally making this place my own little sanctuary." She looked over the space, tapping her chin, "If I can grab myself some Christmas lights and some wicked posters, this place could be a chill hang out pad."

Laughing to herself, she pulled down the bandana and gave the camera a sheepish smile, "Honestly, dudes, I don't really got much of a plan for how I'm gonna handle this thing; sure, my bud Dante told me I probably should," she quickly smacked her chest and threw up a peace sign, "miss you by the way, man," then returned to saying, "but like, that isn't my style. I take life by the horns and see what happens, y'know? It's my vibe."

After a moment though, she couldn't help but blush in realization, turning back to the graffiti art she styled, and saying, "Hey, like…You don't think they'll be mad about this, right?"


"Next, and probably the most important location on the tour...The infirmary!"

Before the campers was a medical tent, considerably larger than the washrooms, though not by much. Inside were several beds of various sizes, cabinets stuffed to the brim with various medical supplies, and a couple of chairs stationed just outside of it for anybody who'd want to wait on the injured.

"Here, our resident medical professional will treat anyone affected by the daily hazards of camp life or by the various challenges you'll be facing over the course of the season. Sprains, dislocations, broken bones, burns, boils, and anything of that sort!" Amarouge chirped out.

"And…Who would that be, might I ask?" Kirlia asked quietly.

"Why none other than-" Armarouge started…Then blinked. "Uh…Wait." She tapped her chin, "Who was it again?"

She looked over at the tent- and standing in the doorway was some sort of…Worm? A green caterpillar to be specific, just…Staring at her. After a moment of prolonged eye contact, the Caterpie rose up her back tail, a thin line of string flying up toward the top of the tent, before pulling her up and out of sight.

"...I'll get back to you on that question," Armarouge eventually responded.

"Uhhhh, w-we aren't gonna have t-to worry about all that, will we?" Gengar asked, rubbing their arm nervously, "C-Cause that all sounds like…A lot."

"Yeah, for us," Salazzle deadpanned, giving the ghost a glare.

Gloom turned his own perpetual glare on the ghost. "Yeah, aren't you already dead?" Gengar merely cringed back with a whimper at the statement, causing the weed to roll his eyes.


"E-Everyone always assumes that because I'm a ghost, I'm just…Magically free of having to worry about the world," Gengar muttered, before pointing at the camera, "b-but they're wrong! I-I can still get hurt! Things can be scary?! Why can't anybody see that?! Why is everyone so judgy?!"

Gengar was breathing heavily, leaning against the wall and listening outside to see if anyone was peeping on him. After he was substantially comfortable, he turned to the camera with an anxious sigh, "W-Why did I even sign up for this...I can't win this sorta show! Everyone here is so much bigger, or scarier, or meaner, or all three! I can't compete with that!"

"I just wanted to get away from home, but I found something just as bad, only at least there I knew the people who were tormenting me..." Whimpering, he rocked back and forth pathetically, "What am I gonna do? I can't trust anybody, they're all plotting against me right now! I just know it!"


"Though, everyone, I do need you all to keep in mind, we have our limits; serious injuries that can not be treated immediately will have to be moved off the island," a frown fell over Armarouge as she shook her head, "in those cases, disqualification will follow due to your immediate evacuation, though I'm sure it'll never come to that."

"Yes, I'm sure whether I get to keep competing will be the first thing I think of if I get torn in half by an Ursaring." Bronzong sarcastically noted, getting a laugh out of Mismagius-

Before they both realized what happened. They quickly went quiet, eyeing each other before proceeding to ignore they're even there, a fact that didn't go unnoticed by Noivern, who hummed to himself, before smirking.


"Ooooooh~" Noivern hummed, smirking as he wrapped his arms behind his back, "Was that a bit of drama I spotted? I do believe it was. How thrilling; I was so worried it might be dreadfully boring around here the first few days, but this…This might spice things up."

"Those two clearly have history, and if it means I get a little entertainment, I will gladly be the one to pull the pin on that hand grenade," he chuckled, before giving the camera a coy smirk, "I mean, after all, this is a game, and I plan to play it, so…Why not have fun with it?"


Soon enough, the campers had arrived at their third destination. Notably, one that appeared to be a simple wooden shack. There was a side door, though it appeared to be locked, and a large countertop with a glass window. On the inside of the shack was a variety of items; candies, soft drinks, board games, some articles of clothing, and more. It was sort of like a gift shop, only if...You know, you actually wanted the stuff inside.

"Everyone, perhaps to all of your highest interest, this is the tuck shoppe!" Armarouge explained. "During your free time, you can head over here and buy anything up on the wall to get your mind off the stresses of the game." She leaned in to the closest person to her, who happened to be Zangoose, "I recommend the cherry taffy."

"Ooooh, we talking sweets now?" Zangoose nodded with a smile, "They got some chocolate nutter bars."

"Dozens," the hostess squeaked, the two grinning at each other like sugar-addled children.

Mismagius slowly leaned in toward the shack, her eyes running along the various items, and eventually landing on a certain package of fireworks. Her eyes lit up brightly, a sinister giggle leaving her lips as she whispered, "Now we're talking…"


"Getting onto this show promises a ton of things; money, fame, insane physical stuff that might take out a dude's eye," Mismagius started, her eyes going wide, "oh, and the whackos! Can't forget about them, cause man, there are some real weirdos out here. But like, whatever, you get the point; this show seemed cool, and I get the chance to show the world what I'm capable of."

A sinister glint shined in her eyes, "And on top of that, you're telling me there's a freaking store around here absolutely busting with all sorts of doodads I can mess around with? At that point you're just pampering me!" She cackled mischievously, "Man, I'm gonna have the best Summer ever!"

After a moment, she couldn't help but glare, "If he isn't a buzzkill, that is…"


As the ghost started to float forward though, the back of her cloak was pulled back, "H-Hey! Watch it!"

"Nice try," Honchkrow said with a smirk, "but I ain't letting you get your grubby mits on that stuff." The ghost proceeded to pout, with the detective asking, "Just to be sure though, you got actual security, right?"

"Yeah, who's gonna be running this place?" Espeon asked in a tone hinting to their true intentions, as he ran his tail along the outside edge and over the locked door. "You surely don't just expect everyone here to live by the honor code, yes?"

"That'll be me!"

Popping up from inside the shack with a smile across their face was an unfamiliar figure; one whose appearance quickly drew the attention of most of the people there. He was an absolute behemoth of a man, wide in girth and terrifyingly tall. His body looked hard as rock, with narrowed red eyes and a cream colored, drill-like horn resting above his snout. Resting atop his head was a little black bowler hat, and wrapped around his neck was a loose red tie.

He definitely gave off a very specific kind of energy.

"...Uh, who the heck is this guy?" Zangoose asked, pulling down her glasses and appropriately judging the man.

"Oh, you don't know who I am? Good, cause I'd be worried if you did!" Laughing, he rose a hand, and with a flick of his wrist, he revealed a business card in his now free hand, holding it out to anybody willing to take it and saying, "Name's Rhydon, as far as any of you need to know! Middle name's business and time is money, you dig?"

"Yeah, I didn't catch a word of that, partner," Dubwool said, shaking her head.

Meanwhile, Luxray actually did take said card, holding up to her face and seeing written in big, bold text:

MISTER "WHO WANTS TO KNOW"
Perfect for when you wanna make a good impression but don't think the sap can read!
WARNING: If they can read, these are kinda useless.

"...Charming," Luxray stated. Rhydon just clicked his tongue and gave the cat a finger gun in response.


Luxray glared at the card again, before rolling her eyes and tossing it away, "Well, good to know the only shop on the entire island is currently being handled by the sketchiest dude I've ever met. If that isn't a red flag, I don't know what is. But it's not like it's the first one I've gotten out here; to be blunt, this place hasn't exactly done great at giving a good first impression."

She sighed under her breath, narrowing a glare and saying "Don't get me wrong, I knew joining this would be weird, and I knew I'd probably have to deal with something I haven't seen before; I mean, I'm not exactly a stranger to overcoming insane obstacles. Trust me, I've dealt with plenty. But I don't know, something about this island feels off, between the weird staff and some of the players, there's tension in the air…"

"I just…Have this really bad feeling that something is seriously up behind the scenes of this place," she mumbled, but after a moment, her gaze hardened into one of confidence, "doesn't mean I won't be taking this game seriously, though. Bad feeling or not…I'm here to win. So c'mon, island; give me everything you got!"


"The penultimate stop on our visit, welcome...To the boathouse."

The campers were already inside the new location...And it was about ten times more unappealing than the name would have them believe. It was old, rickety building; every step made the floor creek, and most of the furniture had aged like spoiled milks, with rips and tears in the nearby bed (though, it depended on if you could even call it that, since it was clearly just a mattress with a large red stain across it). The disgusting smell of spoiled meat and fish made standing inside a nightmare on its own, but certainly not helping were all the decorations adorning the room, from vague paintings to a lamp made of bones.

Everyone was uncomfortable. Even the most confident among them, such as Gliscor, found it hard being in the room too long.

"Okay...But whhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhy?!" Gengar whimpered.

"Woah, dude…Did a serial killer used to live here?" Zangoose asked, poking at one of the hanging hooks.

"Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat? Nooooooooooooooooo," Armarouge said for a bit too long, shaking her head erratically…

Which Zangoose took as an obvious 'yes', "...Wicked."


With a large, friendly grin plastered over her face, Zangoose looked at each and every aspect of the confessional in delight, "Yoooooo, dope, somebody decorated this thing! Nice! Shoulda gotten here earlier, probably coulda helped."

Cackling to herself, she practically got up in the camera's face as she excitedly exclaimed, "Man, today's been seriously sick though…Well, except for the fact we haven't even gotten to do one of those challenges yet! At this point, I'm freaking aching to get started. Just imagine; instead of some lame-o tour, we coulda gotten our first thing by now! We could be having real fun!"

Laughing at the idea, she smiled to herself, then sighed, "But I can wait, I guess…The first challenge better be twice as sick to make up for all the waiting though. Like surfing down a volcano level shit." She pointed at the camera. "Make it happen, producers!"


"It isn't too bad. I…Kinda like it," Kirlia whispered to herself, looking around the room with a strange sorta smile- only for it to disappear, her right hand seemingly shaking on instinct, before clenching. She shook her head and went quiet, mental disapproval coursing through her like a wave.

"Seriously though, why's this here?" Gliscor asked impatiently. "Are we gonna have to catch our own food?"

"Uhhhhhhhhhhhhh...No, not today at least," Armarouge answered, "this is actually our currently acting disciplinary center." This was enough to catch the rest of the group's attention. "If you're viewed at any point as a danger to yourself or others, break the rules, actively antagonize the hosts or staff members, or attempt to communicate with the outside world, you'll be placed here under super strict supervision."

"Pfft, I'm sorry, what?" Mismagius asked with a smirk, "You gonna ground us and put us in the timeout corner? Like detention or something?"

"Nah, this is much more similar to juvenile hall, luv," Gloom mumbled, oddly more perplexed by the room than anything. In fact, he almost looked interested in some of what he was seeing.

"I know it's a bit of a strange part of the tour, it just felt too important to leave out," Armarouge explained.

"No need to explain, I get it," Honchkrow nodded, "though I can help but wonder, lass; how exactly are you gonna keep people in here?"

She offered a smile, "Don't worry, you'll meet them soon."

The bird rose a brow. "Them?"


"C'mon, put you're back into it, amigo! This needs to be done by tomorrow!"

A gasp escaped from his breath as he dropped against the ground, his breathing heavy as he glared forward. He was a gorilla, his fur electric yellow and striped. And right now, he was staring at his coworker…And the current bane of his existence.

They were a tall, strapping, handsome man, one with a muscular physique shown off quite well considering all he was wearing was a speedo (and a tight one). Wrapped around his head was a bandana, and on display was that perfect set of teeth, those beautiful brown eyes, and again, the muscles, which can not be understated, were simply perfect.

He was a man of many names, but out here…He was Machoke, stealer of hearts.

The man wiped sweat from his brow, turning that perfect smile onto the gorilla and asking, "We can take breaks once we're done here, Electivire. So get up, my friend!"

Growling, Electivire reluctantly got up, grumbling, "Dude, why the Hell do we have to go by codenames all the way out here? We're not even on camera."

"Part of the contract, amigo," Machoke answered.

"Of course it is…" Electivire sighed.


"And, our final destination of the tour...The main lodge!"

The campers piled into the last area, and sure enough...It was about as bland as the cabins, actually. Before them was a basic dining area, with two long tables capable of hosting over a dozen occupants each. On the far right side of the room was the counter with an opening that led into the kitchen, which was more or less exactly what you'd expect in appearance as well. A chimney laid against the back of the room, and windows lined the left wall alongside the entrance.

"Hmm…Not bad," Bisharp nodded as the campers walked inside.

"Seriously though, why didn't we do this first? It's twenty feet from the cabins," Noivern criticized openly, huffing to himself as he took a seat at one of the tables, "my aching feat feel absolutely exhausted."

Cranidos stomped past the bat, growling, "Seriously, is your job to complain or something?"

"Job?" Noivern asked back, more confused than anything, a fact that rubbed the dinosaur the wrong way.

As the campers scattered across the room, Absol wandered to the counter with a hum, leaning forward to look into the room- And instantly jumped back as something appeared behind it, her expression paling as she saw the six eyes staring back at her from the shadows of the kitchen.

"You need something?"

She was certainly a strange sight...And a fearsome one. Her head was wing-shaped, and the brunt of her body was reptilian, similar to that of a lizard, with a long tail and short though strong limbs. She was a truly terrifying sight…

"Oh, I knew I forgot something," Armarouge nodded, "everyone, this here is-"

"Dragapult, we know; we get the pattern at this point," Salazzle interrupted, rolling her eyes.

Oddly enough, Armarouge opened her mouth to correct something- but a quick glare from the Dragapult silenced her. "...Right. Anyway, she'll be serving as the primary chef here at camp."

"That's right, you mooks," a familiar rat sounded off, Rattata jumping up on the counter from the kitchen, pointing to the mon behind him and saying, "you wanna eat? You gotta go through us! We hold the power 'round here-"

He was interrupted by the dragon flicking his head with her finger, knocking him out instantaneously. She…Didn't even look like she any kind of effort into it.

"Stop talking," she said, her voice…Shockingly calm, maybe even a little soft, not at all matching her cold-hearted expression. She looked over the cast, and eventually added, "...None of you are very interesting."

Some of the cast scowled at such an insult, Cranidos in particular growling out, "Yeah, well…Who cares what you think?"

"You, apparently," the Dragapult responded. This only seemed to fire the dinosaur up more, his face turning a faint red in frustration.


"I hate this stupid island," Cranidos screamed, smashing his hind legs against the confessional as he began to seeth in place, "it's gross, and annoying, and everyone here is freaking stupid, and…And…" He let out a primal roar, headbutting the wall- and putting a hole straight through it.

He breathed in, then sat down, hanging his head, "Everyone out here treats me like I'm some nobody, like…Like I'm just a kid," Cranidos spat, baring his teeth, "who the Hell do they think they are?! I obviously got onto this show for a reason, the last thing they should do is underestimate me."

Scoffing, he folded his tiny arms, muttering to himself, "Whatever…I'll show them." He glared at the camera, stating with determination, "I'll show them all."


Cranidos shook in place, about ready to say something- only to blink.

And as soon as his eyes reopened, he instantly flinched back at the newfound figure in front of him. Instead of the Dragapult they had been staring at, in an instant, she had been replaced by a completely different kind of lizard; a Tyranitar.

"W-What the?!" Cranidos spat. "Hey, where'd she go?"

"Who?" The Tyranitar asked.

"...Uh…Dragapult?" Mienshao urged further. "She was here a second ago." The Tyranitar stared at them boredly, having the exact same expression as the dragon from before in the form of complete and utter indifference. It was unnerving to say the least. And after a moment, the fighting-type seemed to come to a realization, holding up a hand and saying, "You know what, I'm just gonna drop it."

"Good." The Tyranitar nodded, before looking over the group, "I make three meals a day. Miss it, and you don't eat; zero exceptions. We don't make variations or alterations to the meal plans, nor will we cater to any unique diets. I don't care if you're vegetarian," Dubwool was currently nibbling on what looked to be…A mouthful of grass from outside, "a carnivore," Gliscor growled through grit teeth, "a drunk," Gloom scowled, "or only eat junkfood." Corphish stared for a moment…Before eating a clawful of potato chips he bought from the tuck shoppe.

"This is my kitchen, and my lodge; I control what you eat," she stated, her voice low and oddly sinister, her hollow gaze tearing through the cast like a knife through butter, "now that you understand…Sit down."

Rattata held his head back up in a daze, saying, "Y-Yeah, bitches! We're having sloppy joes! Whooooo…" He fell forward again, the Tyranitar facepalming.

After another moment of staring, everyone slowly got in line to grab their food, the last of which being Salazzle, her glare narrowing as she slowly shook her head.


Salazzle was currently using a file on her claws, her eyes turning toward the camera. After a moment, a wicked smirk formed, "So the chef's keeping her species a secret; whatever. She has her secrets, I have mine, and if she wants to mess with people, who am I to judge?" Flashing her claws, she looked them over with a hum, "After all, I'll be doing the same thing."

She chuckled to herself, before nodding, "When I signed up for this, I did so with one intention; prove to the world I'm the best version of…Well, you'll see." Her grin only grew wider as she leaned back and flipped her head away from the camera, "I've got a lot planned…Just. You. Wait."


At this point, the staff had basically exhausted their resources entirely; everything they had was not only up to date, but completely legit. No forgeries were on site allowing someone onto the island in spite of not being cast. Every bio they had was properly assigned and filed. Everything had been signed off by at least one member of upper management each…

There was no proof of an extra contestant. At least not here. And after spending literal hours going through everything they had, to say everyone was tired would be an understatement.

Which unfortunately for them, left them wide open for the arrival of an unwanted guest.

"Woah, the Hell is this place?"

Lifting her head up from off the table, Ceruledge's eyes went wide at the sight of Drifblim, the balloon having floated inside uninvited. "What are you doing here?"

"Uh…Chilling mostly?" He shrugged. "I was floating above the island than spotted this thing. Decided to check it out."

"Well, you saw it, good job," Ceruledge deadpanned, "now leave."

Drifblim, however, ignored her, looking over the room, and eventually seeing the massive pile of work around the batch of resting interns, "Woah! You guys have been busy."

"Yes, we have, so again…Leave!" Ceruledge demanded.

"I will, jeez," Drifblim rolled his eyes, "I just wanted to know which team I'm supposed to be on. Unless I'm off the hook, which hey, I won't decline that either-"

"No, you're getting a team," she growled, "we just…Need a minute to decide."

"Alright, cool…Then I'll be waiting for it," Drifblim replied snidely, pulling up a chair and relaxing into it, much to the co-host's frustration, "wake me up when you're ready to go."

And before the co-host could fight him on it, he was snoring. Ceruledge sighed, planting herself onto the table and sighing, "God I could use a drink…"

"Well…Message received, then."

Looking up, Ceruledge saw Cyclizar walking up to her, placing a coffee beside her, then taking a seat across from her. She looked at the drink for a moment, eventually receiving an answer from him in the form of, "I needed some caffeine, and considering you're stuck here too, I grabbed you one."

"...Thanks." Awkwardly pushing out both her arms, she tightened a grip on the coffee and pulled it forward, taking a brief sip. As it flowed down her throat, she felt a small sensation of relief.

And then…Silence. Awkward, painful silence. One neither knew how to break. The two didn't talk; not just with each other, but with basically anyone on this island. Beyond brief sarcastic remarks they didn't know much about each other, or any of the staff really.

Though, Ceruledge couldn't help but think back to that discovery of hers…

"...So…" She started, the lizard looking up, "You auditioned for the show?" She was clearly a very subtle person. And judging by the lizard's sudden jolt, she felt a need to explain, "I found it in one of the boxes."

"Great," Cyclizar sighed, shaking his head, "look, don't get into it, alright?"

"I mean…Sure, but if you wanted to play, how're you working here?"

"I don't know…I sent in the audition hoping for the best, y'know?" he started.


"Is it on?" Cyclizar asked, positioning the camera, and after a moment, took a few steps back and sat down onto a chair. Surrounding him on all sides were different fixtures of your average film set; lights, a boom mic, other cameras, etc.

After clearing his throat, he did a quick, "Three, two…" Then waved to the camera. "Uh, Hey. Cyrus here. And I wanna be on your Total Drama show." He started listing off on his hands, "I'm athletic, I'm honest, and I've got a keen bullshit detector up here," he explained, tapping his head, "I feel like if you picked me, I'd seriously have a real shot at winning the whole thing."

Forcing a laugh, he awkwardly added, "I probably wouldn't even need anyone's help. Yeah, I could handle it…All on my own…All…" His expression fell, "...On my own…"

After a moment, he sniffled, then shook his head, He quickly wiped his face, then grumbled, "...Cut."


"But turns out, when it got through, I…Wasn't good enough," Cyclizar explained further, "they thought I was boring. But because I had that film production background, they offered me a job."

Ceruledge scoffed, "Man, what a great alternative."

"Hey, don't get me wrong, I actually appreciated the option," he defended, "honestly, I always preferred the behind the scenes stuff to being on camera anyway."

"...Really?" She said, "Then why did you-"

"Because I needed the money," Cyclizar explained, his arms tensing up, "I…I really need it. The show was offering it, but it was stupid to think I'd be able to make it work out. At least I got something from it; arguably something more fitting. And like, I'll still get paid. But…"

"But you're worried it's not enough?" She finished. After a moment of no response on his part, she realized she hit the nail on the head. "Damn…That sucks." At least that was enough to get a laugh out of the guy.

Still, Ceruledge couldn't lie…This was definitely something to think on.


After a few minutes of collecting themselves and grabbing their food, the campers had quickly made their ways to the tables. And, unsure if by choice or by instinct, the cast had naturally divided themselves based on their teams, with the Carracosta at the table closest to the entrance, while the Archeops were at the table near the kitchen. They were getting their first taste of what it was like to be a "team".

And they just so happened to be having that moment while staring at what just might be one of the grossest things any of them had ever seen in their lives. The "sloppy joes" were more comparable texture-wise to canned dog food or sewer sludge, and had a greyish color to it.

A chill ran down Gengar's back, as he quickly pushed his food away. "T-Thank goodness I don't have to eat to live...Since-"

"Yeah, we know. Dead. What a surprise." Gliscor grumbled, snickering to himself before taking a bite out of the burger...And almost immediately gagging, as he hung his mouth out over the edge of the table and tried to hold back whatever was coming back up.

Someone who was actually eating his food with zero complaints, however, was Scolipede. The bug was taking full advantage of the free meal, pretty much gorging on it as fast as he could, as if it was the first thing he'd eaten in days. He was eating it so fast the rest of his team couldn't but look on, unsure if they were impressed or horrified.

"Woah…" Sneasel whispered, Mienshao covering her mouth beside the rocker.

"Duuuuude! Go, go, go!" Zangoose cheered, pumping her fist as he went at it. Scolipede rolled his eyes at this, wouldn't didn't bother snarking about it, instead seemingly eating even faster.

"Yeah, go at it! Suck it down, boy!" Dubwool turned down to her food, screaming, "Here, I'll race 'ya!" Smashing her face into it, Dubwool just as quickly chowed down on her burger, only occasionally twitching from the taste as she dug in desperately to catch up with the giant bug.

As the two practically sucked down their rations, Cranidos shook his head disapprovingly, "So…This is my team." He rolled his eyes. "Great…"


"I reckon joining this thing has already become the greatest decision I've ever made, ya'll!" Dubwool bragged to the camera, cackling and explaining, "Back home, it was usually always the same ol' routine, morning to night, always goshdarn working the fields. I was sick of it, and I ain't getting any younger either, so I really needed something new and refreshin' to pop into my life. And then, boom, this thing hits me like a slap to the face!"

She gave the camera a coy look, "Now, does that mean this is all gonna be a bunch of fun and games for me? …Pfft! Nah! You kiddin'?! This is a competition, boys and girls! All's fair in love and war, and I don't know 'bout ya'll, but I play to win! And win…I shall do!"

Out of the blue, she full-on headbutted the camera, cracking it down the middle as she laughed uproariously, "Game on! Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeehaw!"


While the two went to town on the slop before them, someone of far smaller mass was struggling a bit more with the meal; Joltik, on account of her tiny size, wasn't exactly made to eat something like this.

The plate was bigger than her after all, and the amount of food on it was more comparable to a week's worth of rations than anything she'd usually need; more often not, whenever she was hungry she would fill up on a berry and be more than ready to take on the rest of the day. The smell of the food certainly wasn't helping, or its nasty, blanching slime consistency-

And then it was stolen from her, just like that- that centipede teammate of hers had extended himself across the table and taken it without so much as asking. And even though she didn't want it…

That pissed her the Hell off. "H-Hey! How dare you?! That is my sustenance?"

"Oh, is it?" Scolipede gave her a glare, scoffing at her words and saying, "Cause you weren't touching it."

"I was inspecting it, fool," she lied brazenly, "I needed a plan of attack on how to eat it!"

"Uh huh," he nodded, unimpressed, before taking a big bite of her food. As she shook in place, he gave her a toothy smirk, bits of it stuck in his teeth, "oh, look at that; my plan of chewing seems to work fine."

"Scolipede, stop bullying her," Mienshao intervened.

And for some reason, that defense just…Pissed her off even more! "He is no bully; he is nothing!" Joltik roared. "I can defend self; in fact, no need to! Keep the slop, goblin. I can easily scavenge for better; I've done so in the past far later and against worse odds than now after all!"

"...You have?" Corphish asked.

Joltik chuckled, "Of course; I have faced all sorts of challenges in my conquest for survival, and I've dominated each and every one with no effort on my part!"

"Really?" Gliscor gave the bug a look. "That's a bunch of bull-"

"It is truth!" Joltik spat back. "And I can prove it; I have the stories."

"Pretty sure stories ain't proof, mate," Honchkrow mused, though none the less was clearly entertained by the topic.

Laughing at his words, Joltik stepped forward, "Doubt me? Then I suppose I must tell you one of them; I know the details so well, the truth shall reveal itself from them!"

And within moments, the table's next conversation topic had been found, in the form of Joltik's ramblings. She stood there atop the table, her tiny form spinning a web before them; a narrative of her so-called "defeat" of the monstrous being defending a bush of berries she needed to survive. It was long, and dramatic, and maybe a bit wordy…

But if nothing else, it was captivating. Each word left them hanging off the edge of their seats, anticipating what would happen next. Had they imagined in their mind a warrior, they'd dare call this a sort of epic on par with a legendary knight, though…It was a bit stranger to imagine it from the perspective of such a tiny, foul-attitude spider like Joltik. And yet, bullshit or not, it was good entertainment for their first dinner.

And as it was being told, Scolipede casually finished Joltik's plate, and moved onto Gengar's.


"I…Am…Strong…"

Joltik was sitting on the edge of the confessional's toilet, staring down the camera in silence. After a moment, she breathed in, then whispered, "Prior to the show, Joltik had nothing; no friends, no family. It's always just been her. Fighting to survive against a world out to get her. She was scared…At first…"

She narrowed a glare, "Then she learned to throw everything back, twice as hard as it hit her. She's made it this far, and such a show will no doubt be little more than another tale she'll come out on top of…"

After a moment, she added, "This…Will be my fate. I know it well…For if it's not, I'll have nothing to back to. I deserve to have my happy ending," her fur sparked with electricity, as she aimed a glare at the camera, "so just try to stop me."


"Okay, I swear, my food just moved," Absol nodded, looking down to see that, indeed, for some strange, incomprehensible reason, the sloppy joe was inching along on the plate in an unnatural manner. Unnatural because it really shouldn't be moving.

And her teammates had...No way of knowing how to react to that. At all.

Well, except Staraptor, who gasped dramatically, leaning in close to the abomination of nature and exclaiming, "My goodness…Look upon it; a true showcase of art given life! It's…It's beautiful!"

"No, pretty sure that's just…Some form of cruelty, no doubt spurred by that freak of a chef," Bronzong insulted, pointing to the cook's counter-

Only to reveal that a Hydreigon was currently cleaning the dishes, not the Tyranitar there prior. The multi-headed dragon turned at the bell's words, shook her head, then got back to work.

Bronzong just looked on with a face, unsure what even to say as Staraptor huffed, "Clearly, my good sir, you have not read enough science fiction literature! While not natural, it was born from our resident chef's dear imagination. The fact its able to move is exemplary!"

"...So, we keeping it as a pet then?" Mismagius asked, laughing as she watched the patty squirm.

"Pretty sure that thing isn't good pet-material or even remotely edible," Luxray said, shaking her head, "I say we burn it. Lampent, you got this?"

Lampent perked up at the order, holding up one of her hands and lighting it aflame, the crazed look in their eye eerily apparent, "Burn…Burn…Burn it to the ground!" She took aim at the sludge and prepared to fire an attack-

Only to be stopped by Druddigon pushing her hand away, "N-No! Why would we do that?!" Druddigon didn't realize it, but he screamed that part, as he noticed the entire room went quiet and was presently staring at him. With a shiver, he shrunk back and coughed into his fist. As the room returned to normal, he clarified, "I-I just mean...There are people here. I don't think a fire is a good idea."

Lampent blinked, turning to Luxray, who soon shrugged it off, "Fair enough." Noticing the lamp's confusion, she stated, "Down, girl." The lamp sighed sadly.

Staraptor nodded, "Good choice. After all, to destroy such a thing would be in clear disregard for its artistic meaning!" At this point, most of the team was either confused by or outright ignoring what the bird was saying.

"I-It's still moving!" Absol muttered, watching as it began to pull itself off her plate-

Just as a knife slammed down into it, a nasty squish sounding off and a literal leak of grey sludge spraying across the table directly onto Staraptor. The bird stared in horror, her eyes slowly adjusting to look over herself, her breathing picking up rapidly as she began to shake violently.

Everyone followed the knife to see Gloom, having leaned across the table to personally end the beast's life. The sloppy joe twitched...Then laid still. Gloom pulled the knife out and shook his head. "The dead do not praise the Lord, nor do any who go down into silence," he whispered, before sitting back down and beginning to eat, as if that didn't just happen.

His teammates had no words for the grass-type, Druddigon especially looking too scared to even speak at the moment. Though any words they could have thought of were interrupted by Staraptor's scream, "The art has been desecrated!"


Staraptor triple-checked that nobody was nearby before closing the confessional...And immediately slumped forward with a groan. "May I say, it's been exhausting to keep this up all day. With that said," she flashed a smile, "hello world, I'm the real Staraptor. Well...Not as in you've been watching a decoy all day, though that would be a good twist. No, I mean that what you've been watching...Was a ploy on my part!"

"The slop coming to life and its subsequent death didn't bother me…" She twitched. "...Okay, it was a little annoying that he stabbed it in front of my face, but, whatever…The truth is, while I do have a love for the arts and a good analysis of the artistic medium, I've actually been exaggerating just a little. Truthfully…I'm testing the waters," she explained, "trying to get their guards down; if they think me a fool, then I'll be under their radar, and given the appropriate wiggle room to…Oh, I don't know…Try something a bit more extravagant. And depending on the situation, it'll be that much easier to slip into a more comfortable role, one that may lend itself to my team's manipulation further…"

Staraptor smirked, "This is the role of a lifetime, and I promise you, I won't be wasting it." She giggled, "Annnnnnnd...Cut! Next scene!"


"So, how's everyone enjoying dinner?" Armarouge asked, having reentered the lodge after a time.

Scolipede burped in response, while an unimpressed Gliscor groaned, "Is this really all we got to eat? Like, dude! Couldn't you have just ordered us a pizza-"

Before he could finish though, he felt a breeze pass by, as a knife sailed right past his head and embedded itself in the wall. The scorpion lost his train of thought, losing his characteristic smile for the first time since his arrival, as he turned back to the kitchen opening to see an Alakazam staring him down, several other knives floating over her head.

"Yeah, word to the wise, be careful what you say around here. Never know who'll hear you say what." Armarouge warned, Gliscor's eyes currently twitching at the thought his face had almost been impaled.


Growling through clenched teeth, Gliscor punched the wall, before spitting, "Man, I don't even know why I'm wasting my time with these clowns; they're so…Annoying, and stupid, and…" he growled, punching the wall again and saying, "I could be at home, training for something actually worth my time. Instead I'm…"

His aggravated breathing calmed after his eyes locked onto the medal around his neck. Settling into his seat, he placed his palm against it and looked to be in thought. Narrowing his gaze, he glanced off to the side with a click of his tongue. "...Whatever. I'm here, in the game, so I better get used to it, and these losers. 'Cause I'm not going anywhere anytime soon."


"Anyway, now that you know the campgrounds, I'll give you all the rest of the night to enjoy them," Armarouge explained, before adding, "though be ready everyone; I expect you all up and ready to go at exactly seven AM for your first challenge! Any issues with that?" After a moment passed, it appeared no disagreements echoed through the room. "Great, see you in the morning then, campers!" The hostess called out, walking out the entrance with a smile.

"What do you think he'll have us do?" Kirlia asked.

"It can't be, like, too hard, right?" Sneasel mused, shrugging to herself with a smile.

"I wouldn't jinx it if I were you," Luxray stated from the next table, catching the girl's attention, "you never know when that sorta talk is gonna bite you in the ass, especially when up against me!"

Such a threat made the two flinch back, as the lioness chuckled; she hadn't been seriously about anything, but hey, psyching out the competition never hurts. Though…After a moment of looking over the table, she realized something, "...Hey, speaking of asses, where's Samurott?"

"That's what I tried telling you all earlier," Druddigon muttered to himself, though nobody seemed to notice.


Samurott breathed out a sigh of relief, his body slumping against a tree as he took a moment to relax for the first time in hours. He turned toward the sky, watching as the last specks of sunlight disappeared, instead replaced by the fragile gaze of the moon. A smile grew; it was a faint one, but certainly there. And it was hard to not smile when he stared at his handiwork.

It was a good campsite. A strong one. A tent made from branches and leaves stood tall proudly, looking more than large enough to host his size and still allow for comfort, while also appearing sturdy, certainly more so than any of those store-bought ones. A campfire had been set-up as well, as he boiled water in a broken-open stone, one he had hollowed out with his blades to work as a pot; he needed to maintain his fresh water supply, doubly so when considering his typing. A dry water-type is a dead one. A nice pile of berries had been wrapped up tightly, and was now laying in his tent for protection; he'll have his fair share of them later tonight, but for now he needed to ration.

But perhaps what we was most proud of was the series of wires connecting through the vast sea of trees. It had been difficult, but using some string, he had managed to create a sort of alert mechanism; if anything or anyone went somewhere, he'd hear it before they got within a mile of him and his camp. Plenty of time to prepare for the worst before it happened. Of course, he had also set up a few traps in some of those spots, but he knew they worked and they were unlikely to be set-off, at least for tonight; any of the intelligent wildlife worth giving a damn about would no doubt smell his scent in those areas and avoid them. He'll give them a couple days, and see if they work their magic.

Samurott's smile faded soon enough, and he wiped his brow of sweat. Standing up, he cracked his neck...And got back to work. It was going to be a long night, but it'd be worth it.


"Hey Ceru! I'm back," Armarouge called out, walking into the work tent, "how'd the search- oh."

Sitting at the only table was currently Ceruledge and Cyclizar, sipping coffee and awaiting her arrival with less than enthused faces. And not far from them was Drifblim, currently reclining in a chair snoring.

"...So, I'm guessing the search didn't go well?" The hostess asked reluctantly.

"We tried all day, and we've got nothing to show for it," Ceruledge grumbled.

"Absolutely zero evidence is on site for who the extra player could possibly be," Cyclizar explained, "and at this point, whoever wasn't supposed to be here is already on camera. So now all we got-"

"Is one player too many and imbalanced teams," Armarouge whispered, before sighing, taking a seat beside the lizard, "great…I can't believe this happened on the first day."

"Look, whatever; it happened. Now we gotta figure out what to do about it," Ceruledge stated, "what's the big problem here."

"The problem is no matter what team we put him on," Cyclizar pointed at Drifblim, "the other team will be at a disadvantage number-wise. That's too unfair this early in the game."

"Okay…First solution off the top of my head," Ceruledge started, "what if we just assign him to whichever team votes someone off first?"

"That doesn't work," Armarouge sighed, "that means the losing team won't lose anyone, which means they won't be properly punished for losing."

"And we can't disqualify him…" Ceruledge groaned. "Even if he's annoying enough to validate it."

Yawning, Drifblim leaned forward, scratching the top of his head and saying, "I'm not that bad. You're all just thin-skinned."

"Then…What do we do?" Armarouge sighed. "Every option we have will make things unfair for someone…"

As she said that though, her sister narrowed her eyes in thought…And came back to a thought from earlier. "...Maybe not every option," Ceruledge whispered, "all we gotta do is make sure the teams are even, right?"

"Yeah, but we can't do that," Armarouge replied.

"No, we can; we just need someone else. Another contestant, someone who signed up for the show," she explained, as Cyclizar slowly realized what she was implying, "...And we have that."

Armarouge, confused, was about to ask what she meant- only for Cyclizar to stand up, "No. No, stop."

"It fixes the problem," she explained simply, "and you get what you wanted."

"But I was turned down," Cyclizar stated, "I wasn't right for it. I accept that, I lost out. I'm not getting onto this show because of some pity party I didn't ask for."

"Hey, I don't feel bad for anybody," Ceruledge defended, standing up herself, "I'm just not letting my sister's show go under for some crap out of her control."

"Well I'm not going to be your 'out'," he defended further.

"Where the Hell is this attitude coming from?!" She spat. "You said you needed the money, right? Then fucking earn it."

"Enough!"

The two went quiet at Armarouge smashing the table with her fist. The room went quiet, all eyes on the hostess…Including Drifblim, who snickered, "You guys are in trouble."

Armarouge sighed, taking a seat again, the other two following her lead, "...Ceruledge, explain." Cyclizar gave the hostess a look out the corner of his eye.

"Cy here auditioned for the show; he got declined…But considering he wanted to compete, and we need the extra player anyway…Well," Ceruledge shrugged, "it works itself out."

Cyclizar sighed, turning to the host, "It's not an option, we already know that-"

"Okay."

He blinked, taken aback by the response, before turning to her, "...What?"

"You wanted to play, and…The premiere is already kind of a mess, all things considered," Armarouge shrugged, offering the lizard a smile, "so…This isn't a problem for me."

Unsure how to respond, Cyclizar glanced over at Ceruledge, who again just shrugged and turned away from him. And so, he was just…Standing there, taking this information in, as Drifblim yawned, "So uh…This figured out then? Cause I wanna go to bed."

Armarouge couldn't help but laugh, "Yes, it's figured out; Drifblim, as of now, you're on the Archeops. Head to bed."

"Alright, cool. Later," he immediately started floating out of the room, though on his way out, he patted the lizard on the shoulder, whispering, "and seeya on the other side." He chuckled to himself, yawning again as he disappeared, floating up into the sky.

"...Are you really sure about this?" Cyclizar asked. "Because I don't wanna be jerked around, I-"

"It's all fine, Cyclizar…Really," Armarouge nodded, "if anyone in management has problem with it, they'll hopefully see we're just making the best of the situation." He was quiet after that. "As of now, you are no longer on staff…And instead a member of the Carracosta."

Cyclizar, taking in this information, slowly turned his attention toward his hands; they were shaking. Ceruledge noticed as much, eventually asking, "So…How's it feel?"

And after another moment of shaking…They resolved. He clenched a fist, and closed his eyes. He thought back to what he needed the money for…Who he needed it for. And he found his answer…

"...Good."


Cyclizar (Cyrus McCarley)
The Independent


After dinner, most of the cast had elected to stay up for a little while longer. It was their first night here, after all; may as well make something of it. But even among the closest of groups, an exception was expected.

"You sure you don't wanna come?" Corphish asked, "We were gonna roast marshmallows by the beach."

"That sounds fun, mate," replied the exception; Honchkrow, his body halfway through the door of the Archeops cabin, "but really, I'm fine. Day took a lot outta me, so I'mma catch me some z's."

"...Alright," Corphish shrugged, "suit yourself." And like that, the crab walked off, and the bird entered the cabin.

As soon as he was inside though, Honchkrow's expression…Shifted. It had hardened into something of a glare. He walked up to his bunk and pushed a wing under the pillow, pulling out from it…

A notepad…And a mini-radio. Both of which he had snuck in under his vest. He couldn't get caught with the latter if this was all going to work out…

He pressed down on the radio and spoke into it, "Mother Hen, this is Odin's Eye. Do 'ya come in?"

After a moment, a monotone voice replied, "We read you, Odin's Eye. Anything worth reporting."

"Not just yet," Honchkrow shook his head, flipping open his notepad-

Revealing the name's of every contestant on the island was on it.

"But let me tell 'ya, this lot is a real piece of work," he whispered, "I could buy it being any one of 'em."

"Remember; while on the island, anything and everything you discover needs to be reported."

"Trust me, mate, I know," Honchkrow nodded, "and don't worry, I'm keeping an eye out; as long as I'm out here, nothing's getting by me-"

"The Hell are you doing?"

Honchkrow yelped, quickly pocketing the radio and turning to the door- where standing in the doorway was none other than Drifblim, the slacker holding an apathetic glare.

"...Oh, uh…Sorry mate," the bird scratched behind his head, "I sorta talk to myself sometimes."

The balloon narrowed his eyes…Then laughed, "Weirdo."

Honchkrow watched the balloon float toward a bunk, and after a moment, piece it together, "...Huh…So we were the unlucky sort who got stuck with you then?"

"Yep," Drifblim answered, heaving himself onto a bunk, "this one free."

"Uh…Yeah-" but before Honchkrow even fully answered, he was interrupted by snoring. Drifblim was already out cold, "...How did…How is that-"

"Odin's Eye. Are you there?"

Snapping back to reality, Honchkrow picked the radio back up, "Right, sorry Od- I mean, Mother Hen."

"What happened?"

"Uh…Nothing," Honchkrow shook his head, looking over toward Drifblim, then adding, "but uh…Good news. Definitely can take one name off the list; ain't no leak that lazy."

"Remember the mission."

"Don't worry, I do," Honchkrow nodded, crossing out Drifblim's name, then saying, "the client will be more than happy with our services. Who knows, maybe afterward she'll be happy enough to give me that date I wanted."

"...Ed."

Honchkrow chuckled, saying, "Night, Od. Talk to you tomorrow with my findings." He shut off the radio and placed it aside, before getting into bed. "Look out, you little gremlin, whoever you are…I'm comin' for 'ya."


Honchkrow was leaning back in the confessional, his hat tipped over his eyes. After noticing the camera, he tipped it up just enough to give it a wink and say, "Howdy there, mates. Don't mind me…"

Chuckling, he let the hat tip forward again, saying, "In fact, don't pay me much mind at all. It'll be all the better for my gameplan…"


Embers simmered in the air, the freshly made campfire sitting along the edge of the beach as waves came in. The campers were sitting around the fire on the logs they had gathered from the bonfire pit, a decision that would no doubt get them yelled at by the time morning came around.

As the sun set in the distance, a light blue tint fell over the area, the orange light surrounding the cast illuminating them as they slowly looked over each other. The day was over…This was real. They were actually on this island, competing for money…

Money only one of them was taking home come the end of the Summer.

And yet, that didn't matter in the moment; none of it did. The teams, the challenges to come, the politics that'd come with strategy and the drama that'd come with it. They'd face plenty in the future, but right now…They were basking in the warmth of the only light in sight. They were eating marshmallows. And they were relaxing…

Together.

"Alright, people," Luxray called out, sitting up with a smile, "I feel a toast is in order."

"Great, more monologuing," Salazzle rolled her eyes, only shutting up when she felt a nudge from Lampent.

Luxray gave the lizard a quick look, before saying, "So look, maybe this island sucks-"

"And the staff seem to barely know what they're doing," Mienshao added with a smile.

Stifling a laugh, the lioness nodded, "Yeah, but hey; this is a once in a lifetime opportunity. And I don't know about any of you, but I'm not letting it go to waste just cause things aren't perfect." The cast couldn't help but smile at such words, as Luxray gave them a grin, "So, I don't know about all of you, but when things get real tomorrow, instead of regretting it, I say…Bring it on!"

Zangoose stood up, holding her marshmallow up high and cheering, "To Total Drama!"

"Total Drama!" Everyone called out as well, laughing to themselves as they embraced this newfound comradery, no matter how brief. Tomorrow, it was war…But for now, they'll enjoy the peace…

Or at least…Most of them will, as scanning the crowd, his eyes glowing no matter how briefly, was Espeon. He chuckled lowly to himself, before snacking on the marshmallow in his hand.


"You know…This game seems like it'll be fun…" Espeon started, a crooked smirk on his face. "Everybody's just the right mix of gullible and narcissistic; perfect for any trashy tv show, and to mess with if given the opportunity."

"Sure, everything's fine…For now, but like they said, tomorrow's gonna be different, and instead of waiting 'till then like all of them, I'm getting a headstart," he explained, "and what better way to do that then do a quick check into everyone's heads. See what they were thinking in the moment. After all, when you're psychic…Why not take advantage of it?"

Snickering, he added, "I didn't get much out of it…This time. But in the future, I'll have more opportunities, ones where I'll get more than just a peak into their heads." His eyes began to glow, and the lightbulb above him began to shake. "Good luck everyone, because I'm not holding back."

And after a moment, it shook hard enough that it exploded, the confessional masked by darkness, with the exception a single smile.


As everyone took in the campfire, however…Someone stepped up from behind them.

"Uh…Hey…"

The cast turned to the new voice…And saw, standing just outside of their circle, was…Cyclizar. His arms were folded and his expression awkward. He stared at them, then offered an awkward smile, "Hey."

"Uh…Hey?" Druddigon waved, as Bisharp stood up.

"Does Armarouge need something?" she asked.

"What? No…At least, I don't think so? I wouldn't know anymore anyway," Cyclizar answered.

"What do you mean?" Lampent asked, tilting her head…And whole body a hundred and eighty degrees.

"You get fired or something," Gliscor chuckled.

"Well, to make the teams even, I am…Now one of you," Cyclizar explained, and like that, silence hit. His eyes drifted back and forth, and he sighed, "I'm…Competing now."

…For a moment, nobody knew what to say. And to Cyclizar, this was deafening. In the moment, he felt so…Lost at what to do. He didn't know if they'd exactly be okay with this; a new guy meant more competition. Maybe he shouldn't have agreed to this. Maybe…Maybe this was a mistake…

"...Then welcome." Cyclizar perked a brow, turning to see Typhlosion standing up, offering him a smile. "If you're one of us, then that's that."

He blinked, looking over everyone, and…While some didn't look excited to see him or anything, nobody was putting up a fight. He…He was alright.

"Well, you heard the lady," Sneasel laughed, waving the lizard over, "come on, man. Take a seat."

For a moment, Cyclizar just stood there, but eventually he managed to bring himself to walk over and take a seat. And like that, everything was as it was, everyone laughing and enjoying themselves on their first night.

And he…Wasn't exactly sure if this was the right path for him or not…But it happened. So…He'll see what the future holds for him here.


Cyclizar scratched the back of his head, then gave the camera a wave, "Uh…Hey. I'm Cy. And…I guess this is it. I'm here now. Competing, just like I originally planned…"

"Don't get me wrong, I was happy with my job, but…Now…Now if I win…" He frowned, "...I'll be able to pay them all back for…Everything…" He sighed…Then nodded, "I gotta take the opportunity. This was a gift. So…I better not waste it."

"I may not have been here to compete, but now that I am," he punched an open palm, "I'm giving it everything I got."


"And...That's a wrap everybody!" Armarouge cheered, clapping as a relieved wave of sighs exploded through the staff tent.

"Finally," Electivire grumbled, eventually pointing a glare at the hostess, "it isn't gonna be exhausting like this every day, right?"

"Pfft, the Hell did you do that's got you so on edge?" Rattata asked with a sneer, currently sitting on the shoulder of...Deoxys, the literal alien God.

"We were out there all day setting up the challenge for tomorrow, shit-for-brains!" Electivire spat, before pointing at Machoke, "And he wouldn't let us have a break 'till we got it done."

"Amigo, if we had stopped, we wouldn't have gotten started again," Machoke simply explained, "besides, my friend; we did good! Isn't there a sense of accomplishment there?"

"The only thing I'm feeling right now is exhausted and bored," the gorilla growled, before turning to the two chefs, "and seriously, can she stop with the transforming! I already have a headache."

The Deoxys rolled her eyes, her body glowing a moment, before rematerializing into a far smaller form; a silver fox with a paling complexion, her cold eyes reeking of death; a Hisuian Zorua. "You could have just asked me."

Electivire was about to respond- only to shut up when he felt a whack to the back of the head, courtesy of the blunt end of Ceruledge's blade, "Shut it. Nobody's in the mood for it right now."

"Aw...Guys, don't fight," Armarouge pleaded, "we did good today. Sure, there were a few problems...But in the end, I think we made the boss proud-"

The phone began to ring at this, and everyone went quiet. They slowly turned to stare at the phone, the hostess leaning forward to pick it up- Only for Ceruledge to suddenly push it off the table, crashing and exploding across the ground. Armarouge gasped, "Ceru!"

"Yeah, no; today has been too long and way too complicated to deal with that right now. If it was important, she can call again tomorrow when Machoke fixes it," Ceruledge explained, and on cue the fighting-type had already gathered all the parts with a smile.

"She's right, chica; take the night for yourself, you earned it," Machoke nodded.

Breathing in, Armarouge nodded, "Alright...Yeah, you're right...In fact...I say we all earned it." She smiled, "That's the end of the day, everyone. Sleep well."

Taking this as their opportunity to leave, the pair of chefs and Electivire quickly took their leave. Machoke gave the hostess a salute, then walked out as well, "Seeya in the morning, friends! I have a good feeling about tomorrow!"

The sisters waved him off, Ceruledge sighing and saying, "Tomorrow can't come any slower." Armarouge giggled at the comment, the two exchanging a smile...Before Armarouge abruptly pulled her in for a hug. "W-What are you-"

"Thank you," she said, pulling back, "I know you don't like hugs or appreciation-"

"Its annoyingly over affectionate," Ceruledge defended.

"I know, I get it...But you really helped me out. Not just today but in all of this. And I know it might not be your dream...But thanks for helping with mine," Armarouge continued, her warmth practically exuding off her.

"...Eh, don't mention it," Ceruledge nodded, smiling herself...Before restating, "seriously, don't."

The two sisters exchanged another smile, laughing to themselves as they left the tent, ready for whatever tomorrow had prepared for them.


Meanwhile, away from the beach and the woods, just outside the tuck shoppe…Was Kirlia. She had elected to skip the party as well, saying she had "business"...Yet said business seemed to be little more than her humming as she looked over the selection of goods on display. Unfortunately, at the moment, nothing was particularly jumping out to her. Or at least, they didn't seem to have what she was looking for.

After another quick look, Kirlia looked up toward Rhydon, who stared back at her with that massive, false smile of his from behind the glass wall separating her from the items, as she questioned, "Sorry to ask, sir, but do you have anything in the back?"

"Sorry, doll, but that's all we got," Rhydon shrugged, "sorry! But hey, check back in tomorrow if you don't get eliminated to see what we got stocked...Well, I guess that is a big 'if', but hey, it is how it is."

Kirlia's expression fell, letting out a heavy breath and whispering, "I see…Well then, thank you for your time."

"Come back soon!"


Kirlia was sitting in silence, her eyes drifting all along the wall, desperately searching for something, anything to focus on. Her form was slouched and her eyes filled with uncertainty. And as soon as she looked up, she felt immediately judged by the camera in front of her.

Shaking, she cleared her throat, explaining, "…I don't really know what to say here. I just don't want to be the only one who doesn't speak here." Looking off, she whispered, "I was…Apparently the only one who wasn't quite aware of the fact we wouldn't be allowed our personal belongings. In my bag was…Something…Someone important to me…"

Her right hand began to twitch. In response, her left arm leaned forward and grabbed it, holding it still. Kirlia breathed in, shaking, "...When I came out here, they…They were going to help me. Help me calm down. Think things through. Not make mistakes…I can't make anymore of those. And without father or my mother, they were going to be all I had…And they aren't here."

She breathed, then looked away, "...This is my first time without them…" She looked around the room, and sighed, "Maybe things will be alright…I can handle myself. I am brave…I am strong…I can do this…" She nodded along, trying to force a smile, but it wouldn't come.


The psychic began to walk away from the shop...Though found herself stopping upon spotting something, or someone, walking into the woods on the other side of camp. A certain weed with a temper; Gloom. He disappeared among the brush, though before he was fully out of sight, she saw him look back, as if scanning to see if anyone was around him. After a few seconds, he walked off.

"Did…Did he not see me?" She thought. "What's he doing?"

Frowning, Kirlia stepped forward, the moonlight illuminating her path forward. Dragging herself across the ground, unsure why she felt the need to follow the man, she came to a stop at the edge of camp, and after a moment of quiet contemplation, began to quietly sulk through it, searching for the mysterious plant. But to her discomfort, the trees were thick and the foliage hard to navigate.

As she walked through though...She heard someone.

"Just stay quiet, and don't be seen. And never, and I repeat, never do anything without my permission beforehand, got it?"

"Wait...Is that Gloom?" Kirlia thought. "Who's he talking to?" Moving in closer, Kirlia found where she thought the voices were coming from. Breathing in, she mentally prepared herself, then stepped forward-

Only to find nothing. Just a thin, gravel path going through the trees. Nothing out of the ordinary. She glanced around, and prepared to turn to look up-

"Why were you following me, girlie?"

Kirlia jumped, looking behind her to see Gloom glaring at her, his impatience practically palpable. "It's dangerous this time of night, you know? Really should be preparing for bed."

"...R-Right…S-Sorry for the intrusion, I was just confused and-" As Kirlia tried to explain though, she saw his stare harden. It almost felt like he was staring right through her. "...If I could ask…Why are you out here?"

Gloom scoffed, already turning tail and walking back to camp, "Wouldn't you like to know." A howl rang out in the distance, and he shook his head. "Come on, let's get back."

Like that, he began to walk away from the scene, leaving a stunned quiet Kirlia behind. She breathed in, then after a moment, began to follow after him, as she thought back to the scene mere moments before…

Little was she aware, there were a pair of eyes watching her within the vast jungle…


The confessional went to static...Then reappeared for just a moment, revealing Gloom now sitting there. His expression was cold and lazy, his head barely lifted, as he said, "I hope this is as easy as it should be…I really do. For their sake."

The confessional abruptly cut out...


EPISODE #1, PART #2 NOTE

With episode one's completion, I can finally breath it in...And take in the fact this fic is officially back, baby! And man, with a considerable word count already; across both chapters, episode #1 is clocking in at just under 40k words, which...Hopefully doesn't become a pattern, because I really don't want these to be that long. But you know how introductions are; got a lot to introduce for the plot to get going proper. With that said, anybody who's read the original drafts could probably see a lot got reused here; due to the fact the challenges themselves are gonna be so radically different this time around, I realized if I was gonna try and preserve anything from them in terms of original writing (because let's be honest, writing this whole thing again from scratch would've been exhausting), it was now or never, and I definitely don't regret doing it.

On the whole, this episode was...Kind of a pain to write. If nothing else, it definitely took a lot longer to throw together than I wanted it to. A lot of it is to blame I think on the overall more complicated plot; I really wanted to make sure I could get as many early interactions in as possible. While those interactions were pretty fun, they also really forced me to dig into these team dynamics in a way I wasn't planning to just yet. Luckily, I think it worked out, though I wouldn't blame anyone if they said the episode had kinda iffy pacing at points, especially during those cabin scenes.

Another thing to acknowledge...The twist of the episode! Namely, let's give a proper welcome to the hidden 28th contestant, Cyclizar. Yeah, I've been very tight-lipped about this with friends, but this guy joining was always planned; I just knew I wanted to handle it a bit differently, both to allude to some personality traits of his, and because...Well to be honest with you, one of my favorite tropes across these stories is the unexpected contestant. When someone is in the game for reasons you wouldn't expect and get introduced a little later than everyone else. It was one of my favorite bits from Pokkemon Island by Shuckle, and I thought it'd be fun to pay homage to. In the end his screentime ended up evening out line-wise to about equal with everyone else, so hopefully ya'll got a good impression of the guy in spite of the different approach to bringing him in. Oh, and sorry to my pals on the Discord for keeping them a secret.

Besides that, we have the two teams; Carracosta vs Archeops. So, originally, the teams were actually gonna be the Roaring Moon vs the Iron Valiant. The reason that was ultimately scrapped is just cause I ended up finding the names inconveniant to write around, which I'll largely blame on the kinda iffy names of the Paradox mons overall. After that, I considered other mons like Mantine, Skarmory, Solrock, Lunatone, Durant, Heatmor, etc. But nah, the fossils from Gen #5 ultimately won out. No real reason behind it, I just thought the name and the colors worked well together.

With that all said and done, I think that's everything I wanted to touch on. I'm gonna try and aim to at least finish an episode a month, but no promises obviously since we all know how life can get sometimes. I also plan to hopefully respond to any and all reviews that come through from this point onward, so make sure to send 'em; they're great for supporting/inspiring me.

Ciao~


EPISODE #1, CONCLUDED. THE FOLLOWING ARE STILL IN THE RUNNING:

Killer Carracosta: Absol, Bronzong, Cyclizar, Druddigon, Espeon, Gloom, Lampent, Luxray, Mismagius, Noivern, Salazzle, Samurott, Staraptor, Typhlosion.

Screaming Archeops: Bisharp, Corphish, Cranidos, Drifblim, Dubwool, Gengar, Gliscor, Honchkrow, Joltik, Kirlia, Mienshao, Scolipede, Sneasel, Zangoose.


Ceruledge: A few chapters in at this point, you get it. Review, alright?