“Oh, absolutely!” The researcher clasps her hands together, eager to be the best possible host by immediately respecting her guest’s request. “Your presence here shall receive little to no fanfare, if I’ve got any pull in the matter. We’re also relatively deserted on this fine day, so you’re quite in luck.” It’s true: the interior museum is occupied simply by the displays, no spectators to be seen in sight.
Well, if you have the time to spare, I would appreciate your help on something.”
Ruby eyes sparkle upon examining the stone Lance unsheathes and passes into her palm. It takes only a few turns, a few notes of the texture and sedimentary composition until the metaphorical lightbulb flickers above her head, a eureka! moment if there ever was one. It never took her long to deduce a sample; she wasn’t known as the go-to fossil connoisseur for nothing!
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Roxanne examines the fossil with a keen eye, the care in which she handles the ancient item showcasing the experience that befits of a fossil connoisseur. It was a good decision to stop by here, he thinks. Certainly a practical use of his free time. Lance can’t deny the bit of excitement bubbling in his chest as he waits for the verdict. Ooh, he wonder what it could be?
Finally she hands it back to him, and he accepts it with careful hands. Lance listens to her explanation, glancing to the fossil. So it’s some kind of ancient Rock-type? They’re not his expertise but Lance has raised one or two Rock-types in his youth. If needed, he could always ask Brock for some advice on their care. Though, that’s not the best bit if the way Roxanne looks at him is anything to go by.
Lance is not the type to wear his heart on his sleeve, having trained himself to control his emotions to fit this public image the media had constructed. Still, he can’t help the slight widening of his eyes once Roxanne reveals to him the most interesting aspect of this fossil. No wonder he’d been entrusted with its care? Who knew he had an ancient Dragon-type in his hands!
“I see... Now this is an unexpected surprise,” Lance says, eyeing the fossil once more. “I do not think I’ve ever raised a Dragon-type brought to life from a fossil, but I’m most interested to try.” He can feel that itch of wanting to see the power that Dragon-types had to offer. If he can raise this Pokemon well, it’ll make a good addition to his team for sure.
“Oh? You have the means to do so here as well?” Lance flashes her a smile. “If that’s the case, then I’ll be in your care. I have to admit that I’m looking forward to see this ancient king, as you say, come back to life.” With that, he hands her the fossil and waits for further instructions.
“Steven, he is your father. Therefore, your responsibility. I—!?” Immediately, the brunette pulls the phone from her ear, the voice on the other end booming with fervent emotion. “May I request you tone your voice down when speaking with me?! And, as enjoyable as it is middling between you and your father, I won’t entertain these shenanigans any further! Approach Mr. Stone on your own time—I’m far too busy! Good!Bye!”
With an instantaneous *click*, Roxanne takes to massaging her temples with her fingertips. Nozu, situated by the bay window (his usual stoop), observes attentively towards the city streets below. Stoically, he takes note of a rather tall man, walking down the boulevard connecting to Rustboro’s Gym between several small diners and mini-marts.
“I swear, that man is grown and still behaves like a child at the mere mention of his father’s name… the audacity… and to think I have the time or patience for such foolery…”
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Lance turns around when a voice greets him, coming face to face with Rustboro’s very own Gym Leader. He makes sure to, at the very least, be familiar with the faces of League members from different regions. Roxanne Tsukuji is young but her age doesn’t detract from the accomplishments she’s achieved. A professor at the Rustboro University as well as a geoarcheologist on top of being a Gym Leader? He has respect for hardworking individuals like her.
He returns the curtsy with a tip of his head and a slight nod, lips curled in a small yet friendly smile. “I suppose switching from my usual attire isn’t enough to keep my identity a secret, eh?” A light chuckle. “I’d appreciate if you keep my presence on the down low, Miss Roxanne. I’m in this region for official business, but right now, I’m just another patron to the museum.”
Lance isn’t sure what sort of ground he has in Hoenn. Back in Kanto and Johto, he has a sizable fan base that, while generally pleasant to interact with, can be quite exhausting with the fans that are more zealous. He’s not bragging about his influence or charm over the public, he simply wishes to stay under the radar throughout his trip in this region.
“Well, if you have the time to spare, I would appreciate your help on something.” Lance searches his pack for a moment until he pulls out a palm sized stone. It’s weathered with age but still maintains bump on the surface, almost like the lower half of a jaw. He didn’t have time to question its origins nor make his own research on what kind of Pokemon that can be brought back from it.
“I was in the Kalos region for some business and an acquaintance gave me this fossil, claiming that I’m capable of caring for the Pokemon that can be revived from it.” Lance hands the item to Roxanne for inspection. “I didn’t have time to make my own research, so I was wondering if you might have an idea on what this could be. If it is a Pokemon that I’m capable of raising, I plan on having it revived at Devon.”
“No, I didn’t lose a bet. I chose to perform for tonight’s event. It’s a nice break in routine from the usual work.”
“You work?” Clair scoffs playfully, planting her hands on her hips with a look of mock disbelief on her face. “Well, you won’t be getting any sympathy from me–I just finished a twelve-hour endurance drill with my Gym Trainers. If you ever decide to take training seriously, I’ll allow you to join them next time.”
Boasting comes naturally to Clair when she’s around Lance–the Blessed User of Dragon Pokemon almost needing to one-up her more renowned cousin. It isn’t hard to recognize the massive chip on the Gym Leader’s shoulder, or the classic Blackthorn pride in her heart–pride that smarts when Lance offers her some free food.
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Lance enjoys the light ribbing, her light cuff barely felt through the somewhat thick costume he’s wearing underneath the cloak. It is a bit warm and stifling, but nothing that he can’t handle. “I can’t help it. I don’t get to see you all that often these days.” That’s a regrettable part of being members of the League. There just never seem to be a break that they can freely seize on. It has to be carefully planned, and even then schedules don’t necessarily aligned.
Clair whirls around to face him, her eyes gleaming as if in challenge. Lance has known her for all his life, so he gracefully steps down. His time is quite limited as it is. The sooner they can get some food and a place to sit, the better. “Alright, I won’t decline the host’s gracious offer.” And that seems to be the signal for Clair to grab his forearm, guiding him towards the various food stalls.
Her consideration automatically makes him smile. Despite the bit of rivalry that they share -- in his eyes, there’s no greater rival than his dear cousin -- Clair does look out for him when the need arises. Lance checks out the selection while she rattles on. “Don’t worry about that. I’ve been investing hours into ensuring that every step is perfect. The hymns took a while longer because I had to practice the pronunciations, but I think it’ll be alright.” To the public? Definitely. To the Elder? That’s a little bit harder to tell.
When he shifts his attention back to her, he finds her eyeing some yakitori skewers. While he felt like having some soy sauce baked rice balls, Lance approaches the stall, eyeing the various skewers sizzling away underneath the hot grill. “Hmm... these skewers looks like a good place to start. How about you pick some out for us while I go buy us some drinks?” He saw a stand selling some iced tea earlier, which he thinks will go perfect with the skewers.
“As long as it’s not anything with cartilage, I’m fine with whatever.” Lance always did have a little trouble when it comes to meat and their texture. Anything too tough or rubbery makes it hard pressed for him to swallow. Lance makes another glance at the stand further down the street. Thankfully it doesn’t look too crowded. “Do you want some tea or juice?”
Usually when Lance travels abroad, it’s for business purposes. Being the Champion means that he has to maintain good relations with organizations that could benefit both the Indigo League and the people within the Kanto and Johto region. It’s one of tasks that he’s not particularly fond of, yet he won’t let personal feelings get in the way from doing a damn good job in securing deals and create new opportunities.
Today, he’s in Hoenn, specifically Rustboro City to meet up with one of the scientists at Devon Corp. Johto is well known for their Pokeballs made from apricorns, so it’s something that Devon researched on. Different apricorns produces different effects to the completed Pokeball, and they wanted to see whether it could be replicated, diversifying the Pokeballs already on the market.
The focus is on making Pokeballs that works well in capturing Pokemon based on their typing. There’s already one that’s good for Water and Bug types, but those Pokemon are somewhat common. The scientists there wanted to create a Pokeball that makes capturing Dragon-types easier. His favored type is well known for being difficult, needing time and effort for a bond to form between Pokemon and Trainer. That being said, even he could see the merits of having something to make the process smoother.
Devon wants to collect as much data as possible with their experimental Pokeballs, so he’d been approached to help with the project due to his experience and knowledge when it comes to Dragon-types. Lance wants to maintain good relations with the company, which is why he accepts after some consideration, seeing the opportunities that could arise if the Pokeballs ended up being a success.
Hoenn is blazing hot, so he ditches his usual outfit with something more fitting with the weather. Regretfully the cape has to be removed, but it definitely keeps him cooler when he’s wearing a light blue cotton shirt, a pair of dark grey trousers and a panama hat that keeps his recognizable red hair hidden. He still get looks thrown his way, though nothing telling.
There’s still some time before the appropriate meeting time, so Lance decides to swing by the Rustboro Gym. He heard that aside from being a Gym, they have a section where it’s like a small museum where fossils and other rocks on display. Lance had came across a fossil during one of his visits to the Kalos region and had yet to find the time to properly examine it. Devon Corp purportedly is the place to revive fossils, but it doesn’t hurt to have a better understanding of this ancient Pokemon first.
Lance enters the Gym, taking a moment to look around. It feels like this room is split in two, with the museum section and it’s tiled floors greeting him while further behind is a field of rocky walls. It’s simple and fits the theme of being a Rock-type Gym. Soon he’s standing in front of a display case, reading the description of the fossil tucked within. Though, that doesn’t mean he’s unaware of the footsteps approaching him from behind.
Maybe, Clair thinks to herself after spending nearly four days straight in the Dragon’s Den–almost a new personal record, it’s time to revisit the surface.
Often losing herself to the intensities of her training, the driven Gym Leader tended to disappear for long stretches of time within the hallowed training ground. However, intense as she is, even Clair is prone to fall for distractions. This time is no different: one of her Gym Trainers rushes past in a colorful costume, drawing the Tamer’s curious gaze while also triggering a flood of recollection. The Festival of the First Dragon.
Festivals represent mere wastes of time to Clair–after all, why waste time milling about and stuffing your face when you could be training?–but given the particular importance of the Dragon Clan’s premiere celebration, she valiantly toughs it out every year, joining the throngs of party-goers for the briefest of moments. Like a doctor’s visit, Clair reminds herself, standing in the maw of the Den with her eyes closed, preparing mentally. Let’s get this over with.
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Lance barely registers that familiar shade of blue before he’s swept into a bone crushing hug. Despite standing almost a head taller, Clair never fails to remind him of the strength she possesses, built from years of effort. She moves like a whirlwind, as he finds hands slipping up to slightly flip his hood, pretty much ruining the purpose of heading out in disguise. Still, he can’t fault her excitement. He admits to a thrum of happiness too upon seeing his dear cousin.
“Well, I did try to seek you out,” he utters after the second hug, to which he reciprocates. “But I’ve been told that you were training for days on end with no sign of you resurfacing. I’m glad you’ve decided to grace us with your presence.” There’s a fond, teasing lilt to his tone. Most people tend to see him as this strict, imposing figure but he’s actually quite friendly among friends and especially towards family.
Lance knows they’re gathering attention, but many recognizes the Blackthorn Gym Leader, and her reputation is fearsome among members of the clan and public alike. Still, he covers his red hair, feeling more comfortable with the semblance of secrecy. Clair’s hushed remark earns her a faint eye roll and a quirk of his lips. “No, I didn’t lose a bet. I chose to perform for tonight’s event. It’s a nice break in routine from the usual work.”
His voice carries a twinge of... something. He’s long since acclimatize to the life of a Champion, but he privately admits to a weariness that seeps into his bones. Lance is used to upholding duties and carrying responsibilities, yet it’s tiring. Even if he had to put in effort during training, it’s something different and fulfilling, like a breath of fresh air that tickles the skin.
And there’s nothing more refreshing than seeing a familiar face of someone he holds dear in his heart. Lance wears a small smile, washing away whatever expression he gave off and gestures at the stalls. “I was planning on buying some food to tide me over. I won’t be performing in another hour or so. Do you want to join me? Even one of the best Dragon experts around couldn’t pass up on festival fare, no?” His smile widens underneath the hood. “I might be willing to treat you... but it’s a limited time offer. Gotta make a decision quick, dear cousin.”
Heya WE peeps! This is me bringing back an old muse I used to play here years ago! Figured I’ll bring the ol’ dragon champ back, so please like this post and I’ll write a starter! My DMs are always open if you want to plot something more concrete! Will be capping at 5!
His gaze sets upon an imaginary opponent and like a whip, he lunges forward with his weapon in hand, lips stretched into a sharp smile. One step. Two step. Twist. Parry. Lance jumps back a few steps, body loose but ready for another invisible attack. This time, it’s accompanied by what sounds like a hymn in a language that has been far removed from the general public. Keeping his concentration on both the physical and verbal aspects of this piece is difficult but he manages to go through the entire session before pausing for breath.
Wiping his sweaty forehead with the back of his hand, Lance grabs a water bottle, taking his time to quench his thirst. Then he grabs the piece of paper he’s left on the table, eyes scanning through the text once more. It’s a bit embarrassing that he’s having trouble with this, but his pride will not settle with anything less than perfection. This is a part of his heritage – the first language of his clan, a tongue that speaks of dragons and their might.
Time has wiped its existence from the public and even part of his clan, but it’s still practiced among the most dedicated of members. Lance might not agree on some aspects of his clan but he still carries the pride that comes with the title. They have strayed from the original path, and this is just a bit of a reminder on how it once was. A story to tell, not only to the clan children but also to the public for the upcoming festival.
An annual celebration, the Festival of the First Dragon often showcases a few performances that depicts the culture of the clan to the spectators. Held in Blackthorn City, it gives off the vibe of a regular festival. There would be stalls selling a variety of goods, ranging from local delicacies to dragon related items. The main attraction, of course, is the grand show held on the second to last night. Story telling, singing, dancing and a combination of it all.
Lance chooses to handle the most active and physically taxing of the entire thing. He took a week off from League duty solely for practicing, which he did so in his backyard. It’s a break from his normal routine, but it still demanded the same level of focus and drive he puts in his work. If there’s one thing that Lance wanted, it is to showcase the better parts of his clan through his performance.
If he’s going to do that, he’ll need to master the hymn. There’s only two more days before the festival so he’s going to kick things into overdrive. His pride is on the line here.
---
Blackthorn is often a quiet city but during the festival, it’s bustling with life. Lance watches from the window of an inn he’s booked for the night. It’s much closer to the hall where he’d be performing in, and he assumed it’ll run late into the night so he won’t have to trudge all the way back to his house. He’s already dressed for the performance – a piece that would have been worn by ancient Dragon Tamers in his clan back then. It had been a bit of pain to replicate the tattoos again but it’s worth the effect to remain as genuine as possible.
After staring at the festivities for a while longer, Lance is suddenly struck by an odd feeling of longing. He’s participated in the festival every year but he’s never truly submerged himself into regular activities. It’s always performing, acting like a proper clan member and just act like a sort of figure head that grates on his nerves. Join Avenue had been his first time experiencing a ‘proper’ sort of festival and while that didn’t end up how he expected, it was still a pretty fun time.
Still, Lance had yet to get an opportunity to have fun. Now that he’s thirty years old and occasionally giving some deep thoughts on how he’s been living his life, he decided that for once, he wants to see the bulk of the festival. Be a part of the crowd milling about, testing the wares and trying out the games instead of just performing on stage all night long. Now with that thought wedged in, there’s no stopping the Champion from getting what he wants.
After slipping into a cloak that hides his figure and face, Lance heads out and onto the streets. Of course, his choice of disguise drew attention but for the most part, people left him alone. There are a few people dressed up in dragon themed outfits, mostly by other clan members, so he’s probably not the most oddly dressed one here. Feeling a little pleased with this fact, he decides to check out the food first. His performance often left him famished by the end of it due to how physically taxing it is so fueling up sounds like a good plan.
He makes his way down the street, but it turns out to be a bit more packed than he expects. People are bumping shoulders with him, or he has to follow with the flow of the crowd to even move. At one point, someone bumped into him with enough force to even make him stumble forward, which in turn caused him to bump into someone else. Lance managed to grab a hold of their elbow before they could fall, thankfully.
“I apologize for that,” he quickly says, letting go of the person once they were upright. His cloak should shield his face from the stranger. “Are you alright?”
