Ancient Clans, Modern Heirs [Nobunaga x Clair]
Clair was not in the best of moods.
Two weeks had passed since her grandfather had supposedly been in contact with a man from a distant region, a man who wished to “regain familiarity with the ties of the past” and “re-acquaint” himself with the “current leaders and caretakers for the noble Dragons.” He obviously knew who this man was—Clair didn’t. Upon learning of this “Oda Nobunaga”s extended visit, the Gym Leader threw a fit.
"Why do I have to show him around?!” she’d complained. But the Clan Leader dismissed her with a chuckle and a wave of his hand; of course she would do as she was told.
Instead of her normal routine of taking care of the dragons in the Dragon’s Den, ensuring the balance of Holy Lands, and whipping her Gym Trainers into shape, she was instead entrusted with another, and most certainly long-lasting job: babysitting.
In Olivine City, Clair stood by the shore, her boots half-sunk in the sand, with her arms crossed under her chest and a frown firmly planted on her lips. She scanned the ocean like a Fearow in want of prey, on watch for the ship she was to greet and the man she was to babysit.
I’m sure they will arrive soon,Dragonite said pleasantly. He seems like an ambi—
"I don’t care what he seems like,” Clair snapped, shooting her a fierce glare. She shifted her stance and placed her hands on her hips before looking out to sea once more. “He’s late.”
With a loud huff, the Dragon Master proceeded to ignore her partner’s kind, assuring words. What was with these foreigners, thinking they could waste her time by being late? If you have a schedule, keep it! How hard was that to understand?!
At long last, a large, black shape appeared on the horizon. Clair pursed her lips as it sped forward with more speed than what was allowed in the harbor. The ship came into view, and it was then that her judging nature went into full swing: black, with ornate gold trims, the ship was massive: whoever owned it had wanted the best, and the best was what he got. Clair disliked the owner immediately.
At least he knows what he wants, she thought with a snort, crossing her arms under her chest once more. Her eyes flicked over the masts and the crew with distaste. But something caught her attention—whether it was the crowd forming on the beach or how all life seemed to stop in that moment, she didn’t know. Accompanying the ship was a large, swirling, black-and-gold dragon that had no place in Tohjo.
Rayquaza. The man had a Rayquaza! Stunned, Clair watched as another black dragon joined his companion—a Hydreigon. The crowd ooh’d and aah’d and several children shrieked with glee. Dragonite nudged her Trainer with a large paw before taking the skies to address the newcomers.
Who—what—his Pokemon were—dragons, really, truly, dragons! A dragon of legends that she thought was only in Hoenn, and a Hydreigon, powerful and vicious as she had learned from her own Deino! Although Clair would never admit it aloud or to herself, she was impressed by the entrance.
A man who she assumed was Oda Nobunaga emerged from the ship and stood, calculating the crowd with disinterest in his features. The Dragon Master strode forward with the overflowing confidence of her Salamence to receive him.
"My clan sends their greetings," Clair began, choosing her words carefully. Her grandfather had promised to punish her with what he deemed fitting for something as important as meeting with an ancestral tie. “We have been expecting you. The Elders are eager to make your acquaintance.”
It pained her to be so, so, polite to some random person who happened to write, but if polite was what grandfather threatened, then polite was what this man would get. Clair didn’t know—or care—how the Elders really felt about his presence, she just wanted to get this over with as quickly as she could.
"Hm." Nobunaga addressed Clair with an appraising eye, a single eyebrow raised as the woman’s appearance was quickly judged. Very little clothing, and all of it clung tightly to her body; she must rank lowly to be so poorly dressed. Nothing better than a cloak to keep oneself warm.
By contrast, Nobunaga’s personal armor was stunning; fine layered plates hidden behind gorgeous silks, with extra plating on the arms to help broaden his shoulder span. It all looked very grandiose to begin with, and his height and posture combined with the ornate armor gave him a presence larger than he actually was.
"The Elders can wait." He announced, arms folded, turning back to his ship. "My comrades and I hunger. You will take us somewhere to eat before making the journey to your Dragon’s Den. I will not meet your clan while fatigued from travel." His fingers met his lips, and he whistled sharply.
Hatches on the deck of his ship opened with loud, attention-grabbing rattling, and another massive black claw appeared from beneath it. A body followed suit, doubled over as it rose to the surface and so hard to make out until the Pokemon was standing tall. “Zekrom! Rayquaza! Yamata! We have made land in foreign shores, and will sample their finest cuisine!” Nobunaga spoke excidtedly, folding his hands behind his back again.
Joining its compatriots, Zekrom gave an explosive roar before powering itself off the boat and into the air. The ornate ship rocked mightily in the shallow bay as the legendary dragon pushed against it, the great beast held aloft only by a miracle of physics. “Please try to keep the citizenry at bay for me while we travel. Normally my escort is greater than this, and my companions attract much attention. Your efforts will have to suffice.”
Hail, herald. The black Rayquaza met with Clair’s Dragonite only a few yards into the air, turning its head to better see their visitor — having eyes on the sides of your head instead of the front was difficult. A Dragonite. Your kind still live in Ransei. You represent the Johto clan? You seem in good health, that is reassuring.
The Hydreigon spoke up next, its “hands” clapping as their jaws opened and shut while the dragon ‘spoken.’ Pay little mind to the mediator. He concerns himself with everyone’s health when it is hardly appropriate. I am called Yamata by our human partner. What is it you have to say?
They were joined lastly by the Zekrom that had exploded out of the ship in a show of force, holding itself in the air along with its other black dragons. It did not speak; only scrutinized the Dragonite before it.