Dissonant Renegade

Shiny Giratina RP/Ask Blog | Semi-Selective | No NSFW | Headcanon Based | OC Friendly | NOT PLA SPOILER FREE

[abyssonance]

**RULES** | **ABOUT**

[abyssonance]

Do. Not. Cyrus.

[abyssonance]

Giratina is more known because the DPP protags told other kids, who then promptly took it as an urban legend, tried to summon it as a hazing in college, and when bro showed up to check on the kids scared the shit out of em.

Anyway thanks for coming to my ShitpostTalk

[abyssonance]

"I cannot control what I am." They whisper apologetically.

Nowhere was just a subsidiary of nothing. Giratina was nothing. The sounds they could make? Terrifying.

"I am pleased my presence is not unwelcome." A quiet murmur. Given Hau's latest developments, Giratina could speak to them through telepathy without risking deterioration of the mind. Blessed by a chaotic nature spirit; one Giratina thought were childish and naive, but still natural spirits.

"You do seem to have some unwelcome feelings flowing through your mind. What troubles you, my friend?"

That was the one downside to safe telepathy: the vibe detection was always completely correct.

[tapuhauko]

"Nah, you just startled me a little. I like having you around." A nod, as if to say sorry for their previous remark.

A curious glimmer in their eyes, about to ask how Giratina is able to talk in their mind, when--

"--What troubles me?" Ah. So Giratina could vibe check them through their mind too... Hau is caught off guard for a moment, before his hands move to preen a curled-around-them-to-the-front wing like clockwork.

"Ehh... boy trouble, I guess?" Would they understand that concept? "Been trying reaaaal hard to get this guy to notice me. He rejected me once, but there's so many signals he likes me back. It's... confusing." And yet... There's something there. He's sure of it. "So I guess I'm giving it another shot, even if it's terrifying."

[abyssonance]

Oh. It was that kind of trouble. The trouble of human romance. The kind between two very unique individuals. Giratina could think that Hau had a difficult time with such things given the powers placed upon him.

"I see." They respond.

How could they offer some wisdom in this instance? Their eons of existence to bring their friend some ease?

"Emotional change can bring about some truly strange and questionable judgment that makes one question another's intuition."

Yes, let's call people dumb with a lot of words. That always helps.

"You must find this individual very endearing if you are pursuing them at a second chance."

[tapuhauko]

was talking to @abyssonance here's Girateeny

[abyssonance]

Giratina's Speech [Updated]

Gira has many layers to their voice, even when speaking telepathically. Their voice is harsher when using verbal speech, where they often struggle to produce words. Those who have a significant bond with Giratina can understand their speech just find in any regard, without the side effects of head pain, or psychological damage.

Their 'voice' is a mix of the following:

A: the Leviathan [Mass Effect]

B: Chaos [Hades]

C: a hurdy-gurdy

"Speaking in this format" is audibly verbal/or specific to speaking to other Pokemon akin to them, leans more into A

'Speaking in this format' is telepathic or projected into the mind, leans more into B

Speaking in ẕ̶̦́͗͌á̷͖̓̊l̷͍̺̃ǵ̵̢̫̘̦̤͔̚͝o̷͓̮̫͙̠̐̽͐̒̓ ̴͚͔͋͠ť̴͖̝̥͍̆e̴̼̬̳̽͜x̵̂͐͛͑̓ͅţ̵̜͎̂̈́ format leans more into C, with the chords and keys fluctuating with each syllable.

[abyssonance]

Giratina about the wormholes they keep fixing:

[tapuhauko]

@abyssonance // closed starter;

"...You need to stop coming out of nowhere like that--" They were in the middle of sorting through their closet, seeing as it was flowing over with (designer) clothing by now. Hau sighs, carefully placing the outfit they were holding on the bed, before sitting down next to the pile of clothing on there. "It's good to see you, though."

[abyssonance]

"I cannot control what I am." They whisper apologetically.

Nowhere was just a subsidiary of nothing. Giratina was nothing. The sounds they could make? Terrifying.

"I am pleased my presence is not unwelcome." A quiet murmur. Given Hau's latest developments, Giratina could speak to them through telepathy without risking deterioration of the mind. Blessed by a chaotic nature spirit; one Giratina thought were childish and naive, but still natural spirits.

"You do seem to have some unwelcome feelings flowing through your mind. What troubles you, my friend?"

That was the one downside to safe telepathy: the vibe detection was always completely correct.

[abyssonance]

When you realize you did not come with pronouns nor a birth certificate-

[abyssonance]

The next entities that call them a god of any kind are being inflicted with itchy bones.

[abyssonance]

"No one is respecting my pronouns of "not/god" and "not/Yveltal". AGAIN."

Stop calling them a god and stop calling them a god of death!

[hisuianicarus]

Another choked scream escaped his lips one second before he could shut them up, biting his own tongue, not wanting to give Giratina the satisfaction of knowing he was inflicting any pain or, god forbid, fear in his rotten heart. The celestial being talks, rambles, scream, and as always Volo barely listens, more focused on escaping its grasp than the words thrown at him.

He learned nothing. It's true. He didn't learn anything at all. But what was there to learn? To stop hurting? To understand something he could never- something that no human was bound to understand? God, Pokèmon, human, does it matter when you're dealing with something that might put an end to your life in the blink of an eye?

Just at the end, as he lets his head fall on his chest, finally a scream of his own leaves his gritted teeth.

"SILENCE!!"

Screaming hurts. It feels as if his lungs were about to burst, between the anger and the grip tightening ever so slightly by the second.

"Look at you--!", Volo lets out another breathless laugh, shaking in that deadly grip "Look at YOU! Preaching to someone you know won't listen--!

Seems like both of us are cursed to do the same for the rest of eternity! No wonder the Almighty decided to leave me stuck here with you...!"

He coughed, he snarled.

"Claiming to be the end, when you can't even put an end to our own misery."

The grip tightened. He coughed again. He tasted iron.

"What was your plan with this, hm? M-Make me repent? Think about myself?! About you, us, the very concept of a god?! DO YOU REALLY THINK I'D GIVE A SHIT ABOUT ALL THAT?!

Come on! Get it out of your system! Kill me, one, ten, a thousand times! Show me your Abyss, I'LL GLADLY VOMIT ALL MY BLOOD INTO IT IF THAT MAKES YOU FEEL A HINT OF SATISFACTION IN YOUR PATHETIC EXISTENCE!"

Another cough. This time, iron filled his mouth, bringing him to spit at the beast's face.

"As if that could make a d-difference. As if-- as if that could change anything."

[abyssonance]

"You cannot silence me."

It wasn't a threat, it wasn't a warning. It was a state of fact. If Volo wanted a silent Giratina, then they shouldn't have shared flesh and blood. He shouldn't have given them a reason to do anything other than be angry, to be wrath.

Their voice was no longer angry. Volo was screaming blood, spitting it at their face. They stare, unblinking. The blood sublimizes into nothing. First from their face, next from Volo's own body. The excess ichor turning into nothing, feeding the crawling darkness around them. Volo wanted the abyss? He would get an abyss.

"You believe I had a plan. There was no more plan here other than to do as you do: scream into the void."

And the void was screaming back.

Again, Volo was not listening. Volo wanted death; Giratina was not death. He was not pleading with Yveltal. "At least the void cares enough to keep answering."

Death was not Giratina.

"Your death would only be a temporary satisfaction that would never satiate my entirety."

Giratina killing Volo would truly make their misery immortal.

Their body faded, but the grip remained, staying at that imprisoning clasp. No eye, but Volo's own offered one stared at him... and another, then another. The darkness sunk into deep paradox: nothing seen but all that was seen. There was no light.

A twitch. Then nothing. True nothingness. Volo was nothing. Every speck of his flesh and blood unraveled in an instant and an eternity. His thoughts, feelings, gone as if he was never there. Ambitions burned off of the skin of reality. Pains wiped from the forethought of mind. There was no rage, no happiness. Nothing. Assimilation into the abyss that Giratina was. A peverse sentience that was betond comprehension. Terror, the unknown beyond all at Giratina's very core.

Everything Volo was, will be, and more? Gone. There was no Volo anymore.

A paradox of time, instant, and eternal ceases. In the palm of those winged claws, Volo returns as he was. For that time, Volo knew. At eye level once more, standing freely. Upon the visage of Giratina was a torn hole in one of the eye sockets - the same as when he offered. From the mouth, the blood of the man crawled its way down.

They stare expectantly.

Waiting.

Knowing.

[hisuianicarus]

He couldn't keep in a sudden scream as his legs threatened to make him fall, both hands immediately reaching for his-- its eye, clawing at his own skin. It burnet. It felt like it was about to burst from its socket at any moment.

For a good handful of seconds, Volo remembered why gods should've been feared.

Giratina kept on talking, and the Wielder's shoulder shook, first because of his heavy breaths, then for the chuckle rising from his throat - bitter, false, yet so paradoxically genuine. Low, not unlike the wheeze of a dying beast.

"A title thrusted upon you?"

The chuckle grew, turned into a joyless laugh, then a scream.

"A TITLE YOU TOOK WITHOUT HESITATION, YOU STUPID, DAMNED THING!"

His smile remained as his voice grew louder, a hand still pressed on the borrowed eye, the other pointing a judging finger at the creature.

"My wrath is yours in the same way my life is Arceus, in the same way my eternity belongs to Dialga, that this earth to Palkia and Groudon and Kyogre! Their creation, now belonging to the idiots roaming this cursed earth!

It's not yours. It's not." his body shook once more as he took a step forward, reeled back his fist, hit with all the strenght he had "You took enough. You took everything your own creator couldn't take! Don't you dare take my hatred away too now that you dare to act like the saviour you pretended to be!"

[abyssonance]

"The only reason wrath is in this world is because of me. It is my only creation."

His screams did not bother him. His laughs did not bother him. Volo could punch at Giratina all he wanted. The only reason Volo's fists hit anything was because Giratina gave him the satisfaction; the sensation of worn knuckles on scales. Maybe even the sensation of physical pain to help bite at every emotional and soul scarring rip they knew was in Volo.

Claws and ethereal shadow wrap around Volo, picking him up to put at their eye level. A piercing gaze driven through him, back at him, reflecting his own madness in his own iris. "You have learned nothing."

"How would you perceive me without your very being rotted and festering into oblivion, were it not for a definition you could cope with?" They ask - no, demand. "Your humanity uses that title of 'god' to help cope with a reality you do not understand. A title imposed for reverence, fear, and respect. Yet when one slight against you happens, you are quick to blame those 'gods'. You create these 'gods' to put on pedestals just so you can swiftly cut them down with a responsibility you falsely gave us. So tell me, what meaning does a 'god' have?"

The man is squeezed with a drowning tightness. If Giratina was any less of what they were now, Volo would have been crushed into darkness within a blink. Giratina held restraint. As much as the rage said to turn Volo into nothing, they were not going to. Giratina was blamed for the wrongs of many things they were not responsible for, but relapsing now would undo so much.

Volo didn't deserve that.

"You blame Life for not letting you rest when it is out of their hands. You scream at the cruelty of Death when the time draws, when it is your own doings that bring them to and fro. I have never claimed to be a so called god. Arceus was the beginning, and I am the end. That was all I was meant to be.

"̸̢̱̦̰̺̲̜̝͂Į̵̹̃̃̇̋ ̸̜̱̫͚̬͔͗̄̂̈́͑ă̸̧̦̩̼̘m̴̘͙̞̘̐̐̆̋̽ ̸̜̳̪͙͖̞͂̇t̴͈͎̦̮̘̬͂h̸̟͖̙͓͛̒̈́͆̎ͅe̵̖̬͖̰͓̗̠͗̌͆͛̓̇ ̸̹̐̓͐a̶̧͎͙̅̊̍̇͝b̷̙͓̖̘̈́̈́̇̆̒͗͝y̸̭͙͙̐̔̍̍̋̊s̵̛̥͓̞̉͗́s̷̼͈̥͒̊͆͑̿̓.̶̞͖͊́̍͗̎͒̓͜ ̴̡̹̜͛͋͋T̷̡̢̫͛h̴͚̹͔͎̬̆̇̉̑̉̿ḛ̷̮̭́̑̇́̒͝͝ ̴̳͚̟̤̎̒E̶͕̪̠̤͉̣̼͍͊̉̉͐n̷̮̩͈̦̝̝̥̍d̷͇͙͎͕͓̑̏͗ ̶̲͙͈̼͉̆̑ơ̷̙̘͓̲͒̾̃͗̊f̷̢̹̮̬̔̎̀ ̶͕̾̒̏͂͑͠A̸̩͒̍ļ̴̞̭̝͕̀̃̍͗̂̒̃͝l̷͎͖̆̌.̴̟̝͍͈͍̓ͅͅ I wanted an END. YOU deemed me to be a saviour I never was."

"Did you manipulate so much you manipulated yourself into remembering otherwise?"

[abyssonance]

I think Giratina and @hisuianicarus are really starting to see eye to eye on their problems. :)

[hisuianicarus]

@abyssonance

"Your promise of satisfying my rage and animosity was broken. That I did not forget." They were both failures.

"Don't blame me for your mistakes."

He snaps before he could even control himself. He had the world on a silver platter-- he had the only one who could stop his dreams right in front of him, Giratina could've destroyed that brat in no time, and now he's the one to blame if they failed?!

Clicking his tongue on the top of his palate, hissing under his breath as he looked away, refusing to keep eye contact with that disappointing god.

"Useless."

They're not both failures. They're not. They're not.

[abyssonance]

"Your mistake was making a blood promise you could not fulfill."

He can look away all he wants. He can deflect the equal failures on their part. Giratina, for once, was getting tired. Getting angry.

Giratina did not remember their past transgressions until Volo came back. Piece by piece, they remembered atrocities and rage unfetted and unable to be controlled.

L̸̺̍̑͗o̶̪̪̭̚ǒ̵͎͇̜̋͂̔ḱ̵̫̭͍́͌͒ ̸̮̉̓͌a̴͓̱̹͐t̴̨̬̯̗̍͛̐ ̵̞̞̜̽̉m̶̝͆̚ȩ̵̹͈̓͑̐̀.̴̫̬̭̪̈́̒͂͠

You gave Giratina your eye, Volo. Did you forget? How can you not be gazing at the personification of nothingness when you gave it a very window into your soul? Do you remember the reds and golds that passed glimpses into your eyes when you first met?

They remember. They remember as those same hues bleed unto their once pristine and sparkling form. Claws flex in ways they shouldn't, cracking the ground in pure silence. Where one eye should be, there is Volo's staring back at him. The eldeitch gaze, a paradox of being seen too much and not at all. The way it did not make sense when eyes peeled back every raw string of your being to tug at the metaphysical beneath.

"The wrath you feel? The pure hatred in your soul? That is my one and only creation. Mine and mine alone. It was our downfall."

Over millennia, Giratina learned one thing: no more was the blind rage rampant, but honed. A bitterly cold atmosphere that burned as the sun did.

"I was never what you called a god. Your title thrust upon me, a falsehood - a pretense you failed yourself to understand. A human concept that does not fit. Your own expectations failed you, for you can not see beyond your own ambition. You can not blame me without blaming yourself.

"And now, we are eternally trapped together."

Maybe it was not the wrath of Giratina that was destroyed in their recreation.

Maybe Arceus just gave it to Volo.

[abyssonance]

They are this close to crashing out.

Again.

[abyssonance]

It's relevant again