Send me ℧ for me to generate a scenario for our muses | Accepting
Trainers are a hardy kind of being, they must be. Traversing down many dirt paths up mountains and through forest, they travel across regions adapting to the rugged camping lifestyle. The life of a trainer is cast, among many, with a rose-colored tint. It is the life of a traveler romanticized and yearned for. It is the embodiment of the emotion rising when gazing out through a window at the hilltops surrounding and blocking the view of beyond. And so many youths grasp at the life of adventurer, of trainer, and travel down the beaten paths still brimming with promise and whimsy.
And with so many adventurers searching for their own fantastical journey, it is not a wonder that they meet. Some cross paths as ships do, flashing bright smiles before continuing on their way. Others meet like Slowpokes and Shellders do, and if one knows the evolution they are familiar with the change brought on when two such beings meet.
Their meeting had been, though surely ordinary compared to others, particularly unusual. It begins with rain.
A hard rain. The kind of rain that prods at your skin with the intention to anger until your skin is numb and, you are almost certain, bruising. Alyx had, by some great stroke of luck, managed to find an old gazebo just down the pathway. Tall grass surrounded the structure, poking through the cracks planted by age that held the stone steps. Vines clothed the gazebo but the dark of the night and rain kept Alyx from seeing to what extent. Extending her hand to the seat, she recoiled at the gooey mush that met her skin.
Reaching into her belt’s pouch, she took out two pokeballs. The first pokemon was an Ampharos whose tail began to illuminate the area. The other was a Bisharp. With nothing else to do but wait for the storm to end, Alyx had every intention of cleaning the gazebo, at least enough so that she could sleep without worry.
It is here that the meeting began with a wavering blue-ish flame poking out in the dark. The slow methodical approach through the sheet of rain that continued to ever pour was disconcerting. Alyx paused and the Bisharp stopped cutting away at the vines, turning instead to get between Alyx and the flame. Any words the other could have shouted were lost to the storm. She could have shouted ‘Who are you?’ or simply ‘Hey!’ and maybe she did but the other would not have known.
Slowly, the flame approached Ampharos’s circle of light and through the rain a figure emerged, a lady whose face was covered by clinging strands of hair followed by a Lampent. Perhaps, there was fear, just a small shiver running up and down through Alyx’s spine. Lampent was a known Pokemon, yes, but the other looked more like a phantom than a trainer. And the other stopped, in the downpour, just before the shadows ended.
Alyx stepped forward. “Hey, what are yo-”
“A ghost.” The words were spoken just above the noise of the rain causing Alyx to falter in surprise. Before any inquiry could be thrown, the other spoke again but with a smile and a raising of her head. “Did I look like one? Sorry for the scare, but the rain and everything made it just perfect.”
“I’m Kura.” She continued, walking towards the gazebo. Taking a seat in a spot cleared of plants, she laughed, flashing the other a grin. “If you don’t mind, I’ll be resting here for the night as well.”