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I’m part of the Sinnoh-Orre restoration association, and it really is as bad as they say here.
>be me, Ranger
>be out working with my Gligar and Turtwig tilling some land so this rock can have some semblance of an ecosystem
>the local hicks have been too retarded to help; one sniffed the bud of an Ivysaur as soon as it went out and dropped dead
>mfw i had to paperwork that incident
>i’ve made excellent progress so i decided to call my mons in for lunch
>just then some hickboy runs up to me
>”THE GREAT SNAKE HAS COME FOR TRIBUTE”
>what.jpg
>they describe it as an ancient menace terrorizing their settlement for generations
>i swiftly make my way over to the commotion
>it’s an onix, no bigger than the ones in oreburgh’s mine
>i audibly laugh
>”WARRIOR CHIEF MIMBAMBU COULDNT DEFEAT IT!”
>i glance over towards yet another native huddled over their downed Wingull and sigh
>order my Turtwig, who’s only done some bare minimum basic combat training, use Razor Leaf, which one shots the Onix
>spend the rest of the day lecturing them all about type charts
>return to camp
>find the budding grass has wilted since my Grass and Ground types were preoccupied
>my poffin bag was stolen yet again by the local wilds
>mfw
There’s no way Mistress Cynthia thinks Orre is salvageable in any way. In reality all she wanted was a Starbucks close to her while she went digging through the canyons for any signs of that mythical Hisui region(which doesn’t exist).
