[The sound of rushing waves is not something Guzma expected to hear as he slowly came into consciousness. For a moment, even through the haze of his still waking mind, he almost expects to have come home, back to Alola, but the blazing sun above, the hot sand at his back, and the cool lick of clear seawater at his feet tells him otherwise. It's too quiet to be anywhere in Alola... Tourist line the beaches even in the early hours - exercising, walking, enjoying the stunning views of the rising sun...

This is different.

Yet...familiar.

Rolling over to his side, Guzma picks himself up, and isn't at all surprised to find a backpack with his name etched into it. Haha...well now. Guess this place still had some need of him. He searches not the backpack, but first his pockets, and spits a curse all over again. Two...just two. Of course he wouldn't be lucky enough to keep the third, like in Havenwell. Not here. Nothing here ever comes easy. He'll see who was kept and who was left behind in due time, but he knows the weight of Golisopod's pokeball, it's always with him. His partner through thick and thin....inseparable through everything the multiverse throws at them. Hah.

He dusts the sand out of his hair and clothes, sighing as he shoulders the bag and picks out the familiar stone, giving it a tap with his finger before he clicks his tongue. What time is it? Who the hell knows? Guzma doesn't give a damn - he's been woken up by this thing time and time again, so it's high time he repaid the favor.]

Yo, yo, yo - it's ya boy. Guess me n' them islands not done our song and dance, yeah? Roll call, public of Enso - chime in what who's still living the ding dang dream.

[And as he walks, beelining for the mana pool to head to his old islet home (and evict anyone who may have taken up residence), he's keeping an eye out for...certain people.]

Tch... this place sucks as much as ever.

[The voice that filters over the network sounds like it belongs to someone who would rather be doing literally anything else. Which is accurate. Ichimatsu doesn't exactly do public speaking. Hell, he hates even answering the phone back home with every strand of his DNA - which says something, considering he's got five other peoples' worth of DNA to speak of. But this is the fastest way he can think of to deal with his situation. At least he doesn't have to show his face; no way would he be able to do this then.]

[There's a slight sound of crunching snow in the background.]

Hey, all of you. Not that I'm gonna stop anyone, but don't bother going up into the snowy areas. It's cold as hell and there's suspicious-looking berries everywhere. Stupid-looking monsters, too. Dunno what the hell any of 'em do, but I'd stay away from all of it if I were you. You'll probably die.

[Why, exactly, Ichimatsu himself is up in the higher elevations of Ensō... he doesn't seem to feel like sharing. He wouldn't even bother pretending to be a good citizen and put this warning out at all if he didn't have an ulterior motive. The crunch of his footfalls pause.]

... oh, and if you recognize this voice, let me know. If you don't... then don't worry about it.

[He speaks in a calm, even voice, perfectly casual. No one can ever truly get used to losing good friends, it will always hurt, it's always too soon to say goodbye... but it's happened countless times to him, because that's simply the way it is when one is being forgotten by both the living and the dead. He's one of them, los Olvidados. They all swallow their pain, they bury it deep and they carry on, remembering those they've lost as long as they can.

And he is very, very accustomed to living with the pain. What he enjoys and what he wants has nothing to do with it. He's not the only one dealing with it.]

Muffet's also gone. I know she did a lot of the baking, especially for the Denny. I'm not so bad at that myself and I like it, so it's no problem for me to carry on with it. It's just, ah...

[Here comes the shameful part.] I literally have no muscles, I'm not so good at carrying things you probably wouldn't think are heavy. If anyone doesn't mind helping out part of the time, I'd appreciate it.

And there's something of hers I'd like to put up in the Storyteller's temple too, I think they'd like to have it.

[Seems that's all. He doesn't say any more...]

Hey, those necklaces the dragon was hoarding, the ones with the creepy heart and bloody veins? I think they give you good dreams. Or cure nightmares, same difference. Not sure what the catch is yet, if there is one, but I'm betting I'm not the only one who could use it.

[Short, sweet and to the point!]