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I like the usage of the Bad Egg as mechanism in Charizard's story. I haven't seen incorporation of glitches into stories since some years ago, and your story intrigues me. I shall explain the situation into which you have posted your stories: This was a thread for a small roleplay wherein three...

(( Well, this roleplay has reached an offical end, alebit an abrupt end. I enjoyed playing with all of you! Farewell! ))

(Thanks for your patience.) Marceline groans into the dirt. She pushed away from the ground. "Ehhh," she moans. "This is... exhausting. I'm just tired..." She, in a mild daze of fatigue & pain, observes Bulbasaur. It lies among a cloud of dust that lingers and stray feathers of the Spearow that...

Marceline yelps, swings her arms up to her face, and falls again. On the dirt, she curls her body into her stomach and waits to endure perpetual pain from the aggressive Spearow.

Conveiently, Marceline is already panicky, thus the Poké Ball that flew at her stomach while Bulbasaur dashed out of the Lab only induces relatively mild astonishment. "Aaagh!!" Marceline cries in response. She grapples with the Poké Ball that plopped against her belly, but her fingers flailed...

With a surge of irritation, Marceline glares at Bulbasaur, although her face is capable of no expression with more aggression than poutiness, so she pouts at Bulbasaur. "I don't know why you want my attention," Marceline says. "You just ignored me and made trouble! And I can't understand you...

Marceline scarcely manages to properly read the explanation of the Pokédex while the orange Pokémon had transformed into light and slipped into a vacant Pokéball; however, she feels relief, for the creature, she felt, would be safer. "Uhh..." Marceline mumbles as she briefly analyzes the...

((Well, if we have questions about the roleplay, I think we could break the order to answer them. Was my "triple response" okay, BulbasaurFan4 ?))

"Okay," Marceline manages to say, her voive breath reluctantly steady, "I can... I can manage this." She firstly gives her attention to Bulbasaur, who clearly exerted a fair amount of effort & creativity to express themself. She tries to ignore the curious activity of Ian-chan and the sudden...

"Oh," Marceline says. The Bulbasaur had made their message apparent. "Okay... um, I suppose I could just release them after the nurse heals them... that's a good idea, Bulbasaur. I don't think like-- uhm." The little arms of Ian-chan on the bare legs of Marceline demand her attention, for the...

Marceline winces due to overstimulation. "No," she says to thet wo concious Pokémon, her voice turbulent with tension & disbelief. "Sorry," she quickly adds. "Stop-- I mean, please wait," Marceline says to Ian-chan. "I'm... I think you... the thoughts are from you, I think, but please stop...

Marceline puffs hot, irritable air out of her mouth. "I shouldn't expect anything," she says to the floor. She looks at the unconcious orange monster, whom the Raticate had swiftly dispatched from the skuffle. The ambitious fighter had looked at her, and she couldn't imagine why it sent her the...

Marceline slowly, steadily inhales a fair amount of the anxious air, damp with mist, through her nostrils. She had watched the Raticate - an uncommon but certainly familiar creature in her town - engage in their wild antics, slam against the ambitious, orange Pokémon, and continue to create a...

Marceline stops in the doorway to observe the situation. If the Bulbasaur had not destructively rattled her state of mind by complete obliteration of her expectations of her potential adventure & relationship, she may have more concern about the little, gentle Pokémon who maintains a distance...

Marceline is not a person who can effeciently manage frustration. She simply malfunctions. Marceline allows her body to slowly tilt to one side, which soon plops onto the ground. There, on her side, Marceline lies. She decides to think of compromises, and her now-dirty brow wrinkles as her...

Marceline yelps & staggers, and her anxiety swiftly returns. She dreads, as she had worried only minutes ago, that she may be a horrible human, one with whom a Pokémon would never snuggle or even be comfortable. For a some moments, Marceline stares at Bulbasaur as fretfulness visibly infests her...

Marceline had stode out of the Pokémon Lab with the Bulbasaur. Somehow, she thinks, it seems much bigger on the ground. The plump creature could easily stretch their neck upwards and bite her hip, if they desired, although Marceline has the impression that the Bulbasaur would not bite her...

Marceline nearly trembles with anxiety over the decision. Her face contorts with furstration & discomfort; she expected this situation to be one of bliss wherein she had the lovely opportunity to begin a friendship of cuddles & love & aspiration & more cuddles. And her mind had begun to reel...

(Oh, shoot! I didn't notice that there was a second page! Argh!! I'm sorry, I relied too much on the 'Alerts' notifications. I'm sorry, I shall now participate!)

"Oh! I... could you tell me about them, Professor?" The excitement that was once happy anticipation changed into a nervous, fidgety energy, and Marceline felt quite uncertain about her ability to choose with wisdom. Her dirty toes curled against the floor of the Lab, and her mind worried that...