Connected to the unknown

| Indie | Highly Selective | Trigun Stampede OC | Luca Coulter, aka Luca the Glacier | Sideblog to halcyon--mind |

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Starblood, I don't ever get tired, predestined, written in stone

I feel it coming in, I feel it in my bones, heavenly protected, never alone

Tapped in, I'm connected to the unknown

| Independent | Highly Selective | Trigun Stampede OC | Luca Coulter, aka Luca the Glacier | Follows from halcyon--mind |

carrd | main

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VERSE: I am creation both haunted and holy — made in glory : canon

Similarly to his main verse, Luca is born from a water-producing plant from Landa stolen by the Ark in their tirade to gather plants to aid in the resurrection of Millions Knives. His mother Plant was a sufficient target with her high levels of energy, but the truth behind her grand output was quickly revealed when she soon gave birth after settling aboard.

The birth was observed and finalized by Dr. Mona Coulter, a plant sciences specialist unwillingly recruited by Dr. Conrad to aid in said resurrection. First on the scene, she is the one to personally remove Luca from the tank out of his mother plant's decaying hands. This occurs 3 months prior to Knives' return, and the boy falls into the care of Dr. Coulter in the meantime, who takes on the project enthusiastically if it means keeping the young plant away from Conrad as much as possible. Only the bare minimum of tests to determine his health are tolerated; any demands for further examination or heavens forbid testing are vehemently refused by Mona under the guise of avoiding Lord Knives wrath if he were to learn the boy was treated poorly, but there's more to it.

She's seen what they have done in the past — the mother plant was generous enough to share a glimpse, prodding her to investigate further. She has broken past the confidential locks and found the 'Type T' files, the tragedy of Tesla, and as time progresses and Conrad reveals what he knows of their development through how he was with a juvenile Knives it only solidifies her concerns.

The boy is raised under Mona who is studious of his development, but not invasive. With varying voices of demands on Luca's nurturing it's a fight to maintain her path of allowing him to embrace his identity of as an Independent while attempting to show him the truth of humanity: flawed, but not inherently ill-intentioned.

With the religious nature of the Eye of Michael, the boy is an icon, a signal of the coming change in the world, a miracle. He is revered, and his growing attachment to Mona despised as a non-believer. There are frequent attempts to separate them that fail each time by various means. He, too, is a divine angel, and deserves to be worshiped as such, despite how little he would like to be.

Knives' return throws a wrench into things. Luca is very much attached to Mona at this point, 3 months old, akin to that of a 3-year-old human. She is his mother in every essence that matters to him, and it makes something deep in Knives broil at the thought that this was even allowed. But that connection is the sole reason Mona gets to keep her life: as Luca's ever present guardian while Knives works towards his goal, often occupied, especially during the grafting process. They are reluctant accomplices in his upbringing rather than true partners.

Being another Independent plant obviously draws Luca to Knives quite naturally, curious about him. He's peered up at his tank for months now, he wants to know more about a fellow member of his kind. Mona does not restrict him from his elder, but has growing concerns as efforts to wipe the planet clean of humans grows to such intense measures. Luca is quite resistant to the ideas, thankfully, but there is still fear that it will influence him poorly.

But it's not like things can change now... can they?

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Need him to meet his aunt Milly STAT!!

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Scruffed.

[halcyon--mind]

Report on the Birth of Subject L-01 [REVISED]

wc: ~3400

~*~

Attending Official: Dr. Mona Coulter, Plant Sciences Expert, PhD, of NOVEMBER UNIVERSITY Date: September 15th, PE104 Classification: Independent Plant Location: Town of Landa, Western NoMan's Land Report Status: UNSENT - AWAITING FINAL REPORT *DR COULTER REPORTED MISSING. WHEREABOUTS N/A*

September 10th: arrives on scene on notes of abnormal plant behavior in tank LD-02, water production, plant status - blue, odd readings reported, observation begins

September 11th: Plant has paused all water production, high level energy readings still present, all vitals nominal, problem with extraction system?

September 13th: All systems positive, engineers report no abnormalities in energy extraction system or water lines, plant has mysteriously increased its energy output despite lack of water production

September 14th: Most vitals still stable, high levels of CORTISOL-ADJACENT proteins detected, plant under distress, but remains blue, cause - lack of energy removal? Observations will continue

September 15th: ---

It had been closing in on a week since Mona had arrived to the plant facility, greeted by frantic, overbearing engineers consumed by pure confusion, not allowing her any room to breath until she was caught up to speed on the plant she had come to observe and, if possible, treat.

Another day of nominal vitals, for the most part, all except the high level of stress the plant seemed to be under. Scribbling down her comparison of today's readings along with those of the previous days she had been stuck in front of the tank, she leans against the console, brows furrowed and eyes focused. Everything with the plant was fine, why would it suddenly cease production? All the while its overall energy levels remaining high? A hand reaches to pinch the bridge of her nose, dark circles decorating the skin beneath her eyes. So little sleep... But the mystery was to compelling to allow for proper rest.

At the urging of the on-duty engineers, Mona reluctantly packs her things to begin on the grueling walk back to the hotel she had been allotted during her work here. They had been nice enough, but do to the unfortunate circumstances of her work, she could not help the overwhelming lack of trust in a good amount of said engineers, seeing how they've abused and mistreated plants across the continent. It wasn't completely their fault, but still..

Heavy, tired footfalls against the metal stairs pause as several engineers rush past her, nearly knocking her to the ground as an alarm blares, one she has never heard before. One, she cannot remember his name at the current moment, grabs her by the arm to stabilize her, muttering an apology quickly. "Dr. Coulter, please, you must come with us!" She is given no time to respond, yelping as he drags her back up the stairs by her wrist, harsh out of urgency.

"What is going on..?!"

It isn't until she fumbles to the top of the stairs that it becomes more clear.

The tank is purple, a color none in the room had ever bore witness to. The plant has bloomed, albeit halfway, curling in a crescent moon shape away from the console where they look on. She floats much more loosely than a plant typically would in its dormant form, swirling slowly in the center of the tank. Soon, she is facing them head on.

Metal clanks violently against metal as tools and devices clatter to the floor. A soft thunk as Mona's bag joins them. Wide eyes, soft gasps and murmurs. For a moment, all time in the room is still, quiet, bodies frozen in place.

An infant floats within her curled embrace, small features contorted into a cry silenced by the retaining fluid surrounding it. The plant, eyes softened from lowered energy, peers into the crowd, piercing Mona's own gaze down to her soul, and she swears she feels the hairs on her neck flare and a twinge down her spine. Mona blinks, and she blinks back, before peering down at the child clutched in her darkening hands. There's... something. A tingling in her mind, consuming her thoughts until nothing remains, only the ever tugging feeling that the plant is requesting her aid, pleading. If she were able to focus long enough the tremor in the Plant's eyes would be clear as the color of her skin begins to pale. Air constricts in Mona's throat, tangled and mute amidst the chaotic din that envelops her, and time stops as they retain eye contact for what feels like an eternity.

Mona's legs move before her mind can even fully process what they're doing. Her voice calls out desperately, but the words are lost to her.

"Get the maintenance platform!" The sound is sharp, desperate in its attempt to pull at least one or two of the engineers from their clamoring, and it works. Boots scramble against metal, tires screeching as the raised platform used to retrieve tank samples is quickly wheeled over to the purple plant. The engineers barely have it locked in place before she's clamoring up the steps haphazardly.

With trembling fingers the access hatch is flung open, and the plant is staring at her once more, a silent supplication that she cannot describe, but it pulls roughly on her heart. The infant, beginning to thrash and writhe, is gently guided by their mother's hands upward through the viscous liquid towards the opening. Mona is quick to sully the liquid with her hands, reaching to pull the child free of it, and for the briefest moment human and plant hands brush. Mona gasps harshly as if all air has been ripped from her lungs and her vision goes white, body beginning to descend down towards the fluid-filled tank—

The first thing she remembers are the feathers. Bright white and shining, fluttering around her to reveal a pearlescent space warping and shifting restlessly in response to her sudden presence. Her position is retained for but a moment as she blinks to take in her surroundings, before her legs and arms are drawn loose and she's floating. Floating. There is no sense of gravity here, no indication of what is up nor down, front or back, just lightness. And the irrevocable alienated feeling that washes over her as the space pulses once more, enveloping Mona in both comforting warmth and a sharp chill that makes her nerves tingle. She cannot feel anything externally; there's no notion of air around her, the innate pressure that comes with even a calm atmosphere that bends to her will when her limbs move. Lungs still work to suck in air but there is no tactile sensation of swirling gasses filling them, and yet she remains clear-headed and sustained.

It isn't until something finally touches her that her attention has a focal point at last. Above her.

Mona's neck cranes upward harshly — unburdened by gravity her movements are much quicker and easily over-exaggerated — to identify the sensation. Hands. Fingertips just barely brushing against the curve of her cheeks in an almost fond gesture as her eyes lock with familiar ones.

The Plant. She's here. This is—

"You—" Her voice ripples against the environment, reverberating and returning to her ears. They're in some sort of bubble, if she had to guess — there are no clear definitions to key into the shape of what surrounds them, purely based on the flow of sound — but there is a distinct tingling of more, just outside.

"You've pulled me into your shared consciousness." Any confidence she attempts to instill in her words is tainted with nerves. How is this possible? She is no Plant. There had been times, on occasion; a shiver down the spine, a ringing in her ears around Plants not long after she had treated them, chalked up to simply her body's reaction to the strong energies surrounding them — a hum of a machine. Have they been attempting to bridge the gap the entire time?

Does Knives—?

Like a heartbeat, the space pulses in reds and pinks at the thought of him before returning to non-descript blues and purples. The Plant's eyes close briefly before reopening, slow, sad, before she looks upon Mona fondly once more with what she swears is a smile gracing her lips. Her hands make full contact with Mona's skin at last, cupping her face tenderly as she leans in closer to press their foreheads together. There is no blackness, no evidence of her decay here. Just presence. The Plant's markings flare out from her fingers and spread to Mona's face, and her eyes glaze over blue and white.

Happiness, she thinks. And perhaps a tinge of pride as well flood her senses. Faint wisps of images; Mona standing in front of her tank from her perspective, the baby as it manifests itself and the exhaustion that follows suit. And before that, the swirling ocean of emotions leading up to the present, what feels like ancient birth to the death that is quickly approaching this Plant, and yet there is no sense of fear. No longing to continue on, unfinished in her business and grasping for more. She is… content. Appeased. Her purpose has been fulfilled in a sense, and her energies will morph and absorb back into what encompasses them outside their isolated bubble; which, even then, feels faintly as though it is being pressed upon from the outside.

The others are waiting for her, enthusiastically. Aware of Mona's presence and prodding curiously.

She will not die, in the corporeal, human sense that Mona would be familiar with. But in her final moments there seems to be a fleeting will that she deeply desires to pass on first.

But why her?

Slowly the hands retract, touch lingering on Mona's skin as they do with a softened gaze down at the human below her. As Mona's eyes clear and return to their natural green her pupils flare, her whole body relaxing as if all the muscles within it had been severely tensed until now. Tears flow freely, unencumbered by gravity like everything else as they bubble and float around the two of them.

"Thank you." Despite the tears her voice remains strong and certain. She will never be able to describe what she saw, what she felt, but is grateful nonetheless. "I will do my best—"

The Plant smiles wide, and before Mona can go on with further promises the bubble dissolves along with what little physical form the Plant holds here, and the world goes white once more.

With a sharp inhale a hand flies to catch herself against the edge of the tank, grasping tight to stop her momentum mere centimeters before making contact with the fluid below. To the engineers in the room not even a moment has passed, and it appears more like a frantic slip rather than what had felt like an eternity in paused time. The child is cradled in both hands as Mona re-balances, and as she attempts to peer past it down to the mother Plant she is met with such a familiar face dyed black. Her face is locked in a relieved smile, eyes unblinking and body frozen in place for just a moment before it begins to disintegrate into ash just as the baby is removed from the tank.

A brief moment of horror flashes across Mona's face, echoed in the gasps and shouts of the engineers in the room as the Plant meets her demise as if having just experience a Last Run. But the moment doesn't last for her, melting into a solemn mourning instead that only is able to persist for a second before the child begins to thrash and writhe in her hands. Her legs feel foreign, but Mona manages to get them beneath her and push up, clamoring down the metal steps with the infant clutched close to her chest until she's able to find her discarded bag. She risks soiling assorted contents within to find the shawl she typically uses to keep herself warm to wipe the child clean, wrapping them tightly to ensure warmth is able to be retained.

The child's cries fill the facility at last, overcoming the cluster of on-lookers as they hurriedly try to overwhelm the two, but Mona is still entranced. A last look back at the tank, empty and lifeless; it looks wrong for there to be so little inside. A sense of sadness washes over, of loss, but a tinge of relief is there as well, and maybe even a little bit of hope.

Gloved hands grasp at her shoulders ripping her violently from her state of mourning that keeps insisting it linger, some reaching past towards the child, still screaming at their rude introduction to life. She gasps, pulling away from their forceful actions to curl inwards on herself, around the child, as they attempt to pry it from her.

The child has barely even pinked up before they are attempting to tear it from her hold.

"An independent!" "No one has ever seen one!" "We must take it to the lab." "It could provide us with so much knowledge." "Could we make new Plants from it?"

"STOP!"

Mona's voice is shrill, angry as she calls out. Most of the engineers halt their misguided ministrations. She pulls free of their hands, stumbling to her feet, stomach dropping harshly as the child's cries grow at the movements. Stumbling, she turns to face the crowd, still clinging to the child fiercely. "This is no test subject, no plant to be observed and prodded at for pure curiosity's sake, this child is alive."

Her mind flashes back to that space, that seemed to writhe and breathe around her; like being engulfed in the body of a great beast or being. Energetic, living, pulsing. Everything she has suspected or has been told is irrevocably true, and it chokes her that they will never be able to feel what she has experienced to solidify her claims.

Competing cries tumble out from the crowd, calling out her words as fallacies, urging her to hand the child over, to let them get a hold of it. They must take samples. They must take notes, immediately. The look in their eyes, wide with brows furrowed, annoyance filling them at her hesitance to comply.

Mona suddenly finds herself afraid of the people she has been working so diligently with — protected by — for nearly a week. Her head is whipping to look amongst them, eyes wide and pleading, to find at least one not desperate to take hold of the crying child, willing to listen, their small hands clinging to her shirt out of need. Tears prick in her own eyes, burning harshly as the din of demands overwhelms her. Her mind shuts down, body quickly taking over control as her flight instinct is activated, bag thrust back onto her shoulder with little care as she runs.

Lungs singe with gasping breaths, boots banging against metal with each step, the sound tenfold just a few paces behind her, some scrambling ahead of her as other engineers come forth to figure out the problem. She ignores their questions and demands, pushing past them abruptly as they holler. One hand just barely catches against the strap of her bag and she's falling hard onto her knees, scraping against the metal floor as she crawls frantically away until her feet find themselves again. The door is open. Nearly tripping over the feet of others, Mona reaches to slam onto the emergency lock-down button, and her muscles flex even harsher to push herself through the several blast-proof doors to separate her and the child from grasping hands and ill desires as the doors slam shut just behind them.

It isn't until the cold chill of the night takes hold and the never-ending sight of sand fills her vision does she stop sprinting. Breathless, body screaming, she takes a moment to compose herself, looking back at the town she fled from. Her haze is wiped clean, the infant is screaming, calling out to her to help them. A hand places pressure on their back, rubbing soft circles to soothe them, as the other gently runs a thumb against the top of their head. They are still damp from the tank liquid, but not enough to cause them to shiver in the cold. Her gaze softens as she looks down at them, breathing evening out at last, she takes a moment of reprieve before venturing further into the desert wastelands before them with shaky steps.

There's only one place to go. She only hopes that she can make it.

"It's alright. I've got you now." The child is brought even closer, carefully nestled into her chest as their cries dampen, their little fingers still cling tightly to whatever part of her they can. The image of the plants face, of her relief, is plastered to her thoughts as she picks back up a jog.

She now realizes the Plant was not merely willing her to take them, like requesting a friend to watch over your child when you've passed on. No, there was a much stronger urgency behind the feelings thrust upon her. A dire necessity twisted and embedded deep within the shared Plant consciousness strong enough to warrant pulling a human of all things past the barrier for more than just a show of gratitude for caring. A hum begins to grow behind her, unnatural and alarming, closing in fast.

Dammit. Mona uncharacteristically curses underneath her breath at the realization that it's a car speeding towards them. They must have gotten a call out of the facility to some of the guards stationed outside, drumming up enough of them to fill up one of the trucks allotted to her security detail to track her down. Even in the shadow of a dune they managed to spot her, and the man at the wheel is absolutely flooring the gas pedal.

The infant's weight is shifted to rest fully on her left arm as her right reaches down for the pistol at her thigh, trembling as she pulls it free from it's holster and aims, pulling back the hammer. She's hoping, pleading, that the glimmer of the barrel will catch their eye and will them to stop, remembering that she is armed and able to resist even if it's only for the sake of preserving the child she holds.

"Stop—!"

Her screaming at them depends solely on any of the windows being open which, from the head-on angle they have taken, she cannot tell if any even are. Her arm straightens cementing her aim in its place directly towards the driver's side of the windshield, occasional tremors making their way down her arm and wavering as she locks eyes with the man. His brows furrow and hers knot tighter, blood rushing in her ears so hard she can hear her own heart beating over the engine's hum and the infant's screams. Her finger meets the trigger and time slows to a halt as soon as it's pulled, her senses enveloped in an incessant ringing and everything flashes.

An exhale, a shift, not allowing an additional moment to reconsider or regret her actions before she is scrambling up the dune that shades her, ignoring the squeal of directionless tires and tumbling metal just behind. There's yells and screams, curses flung and her direction and the murmur of protest before two more shots ring out just as she reaches the apex of the dune, causing her to momentum to shift as her body tumbles forward and down the opposite side for what feels like forever. Mona lands on her back, winded, cradling the child protectively before checking them over with frantic looks. Doused in sand yes, but otherwise fine. Something good.

No time to linger. The pain spreading like a raging fire within her body is ignored, unable to even pinpoint where exactly the bullet has lodged itself — if there's even one still there — as Mona fumbles haphazardly until she's sprinting again. Sand and sweat cling harshly to her skin, and blood trickles to mingle with the sand as the wind and her steps kick it up to unintentionally conceal her path. With her gun still in hand and the infant clutched she runs, and runs, and runs—

Green floods the night sky above, blotting out all of the stars and even the present moons tonight as worms gently flicker and flow into a winding path eastward. A silent, inconspicuous guide.

Now she just has to make it—

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Who hurt him...

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.:* Continues to amuse me that in the anime, his 1 year old fc has black hair instead of blond just cause of the Implications *:.

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.:* gonna make him everybody's problem *:.

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.:* *steeples fingers* contemplating some canon!verse luca stuff *:.

[dragonplated]

"Apparently he's your alien plant son from another universe." Lance doesn't look up from the sandwich he's started making, though there's a definite amused edge to his voice. "Sounds like I'm just your type." The sandwich is set aside to begin another one.

"You eat human food?" The ones in tanks didn't, and he looks human enough but does that mean he needs food?

"Mona, sit before you fall over."

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"You're... A plant..?!" It's clear her interest is piqued, eyes flaring and brows raising, excited. She approaches the boy, but hesitates a few steps back. "You must be an Independent then. Oh, look at you! How amazing! Plants are inter-dimensional beings, you crossed the barrier somehow." Mona doesn't skip a beat, rolling with the idea with ease.

"I-I... Yes ma'am." Luca follows her to the table as Lance instructs, shy, still holding back. "B-By accident, though. Not plant stuff. Complicated. Trying to get home. And yes, I eat food." He's a good mix of both, only occasionally needing to eat. Mona reaches across the table to comfort him.

"You must be a bit scared then, hm?" Instantly reads him. It causes an odd pang in his chest, but he grasps back at her hands and nods. The way she smiles at him both helps and hurts. "I'm sure we can figure something out. But yes, food first! Being hungry won't help at all. I'm not really your mom, but I'm glad you sought me out."

"Me too.."

[dragonplated]

"Mmm. Most are friendly, it depends on species and where you are." If he lacked a pokemon, he shouldn't have even been out in the wild. But then, plant. Maybe they'd sensed it. Hard to say without asking one.

"They'll be here in a moment."

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"Got ways of protecting myself if needed. Pop made sure." Some stray wisps of frost radiate from his fingers at the thought, but he shoves the feeling back down as they hear the great big Pokemon land outside. Warm hands.

"Hey..!" Mona enters not long after, peaking in. "You said something about a visitor..? Oh..!" She catches sight of Luca, who stares right back, stunned. Yeah, definitely Mona. She's... younger. Seems happy. Not that his mom isn't, but he's glad to observe it. "Hello! Didn't expect someone like you all the way out in the woods here. They can be a bit unforgiving to strangers. Everything all right..?" This boy knows her..?

"I—" Luca stammers. It's not his first time being flung somewhere new, but last time it wasn't his parents that came along. "Well, um...." He becomes nervous, holding back. Never would admit it, but this stuff scares the hell outta him, and someone that's literally another version of his mom is right there. Luca is actively fighting the urge to run to her.

[dragonplated]

"I see." He hasn't seen any cats of any sort. Pokemon or otherwise. Magic cat though. Would he even see one of those? Who knew. "We'll see what she says when she returns, then. Shouldn't be long with dragonite to bring her back." Not when town was so close.

The window gets closed as the last of the food goes out and Lance hums thoughtfully. "I take it you don't have pokemon then, since you're not from here and didn't know what they were."

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"Nah, never got around to befriending any. Mom had a big long talk with me after one of these things whisked my dad away for 6 months. 'Be curious but respectful; it's not your world,' in case this ever happened." It's also why Lance was the first he'd approached in days, waiting for that spark to hit him. "Tried my best not to bug'em."

Distantly, the flap of the Dragonite's wings can begin to be heard. She's almost here.

[dragonplated]

A sigh. "Never changes, does she." Considering what she's brought home more than once, he can see it. This kid just gives him more and more questions rather than answers, but it's fine. The peek into an alternate universe is interesting enough.

"And the cat? How does it fit in here."

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"Right, that fuckin thing—" Breathe in, breathe out. Getting too upset won't help here, also might rile it up more if it sense it. "To put it simply, the thing is magic. Has a nasty habit of transporting people to places they don't belong for fun, or to teach them a lesson of some sort, if they feel slighted. I get the funny feeling it's the former, this time." Thankfully.

The marks fade and he crosses his arms. "If I find it, either it'll be satisfied enough to bring me back, or hopefully my auntie Le can do her... thing and help if I'm so close. There's plants here, but it's a different planet. Cat must be around Mona."

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Love giving this boy the slightest country accent. A piece of his mom!

[dragonplated]

"You're a plant." Well. That was interesting. He'd seen them once or twice in the time since they'd negotiated for the few left behind, but never for long and not up close. Lance hadn't realized –

She'd explained independents, but he hadn't really understood the concept, having never seen one. Now he thinks he might understand. "Interesting."

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"Yep! Culmination of my mom's work. Plants can give birth rarely, but there's no record of one being actively witnessed before me. At least, on No Man's. If she traveled through space then she must've had help from those other guys. They know more than we do." He twists and turns his body, looking down at his own marks. And... maybe showing off a little. It's rare, being this open about it to someone new. But if Lance really is married to this Mona, he won't harm a hair on him.

"Ma unfortunately knew humans, too, though. From what she told me once I was old enough, the whole facility freaked out. Pulled me outta the tank herself. Then, well... stole me! Apparently they were saying some terrible things, what they wanted to do to me... But hey! Now I'm here!" Not cooped up in some lab or torn apart. "She needs to bug Pops about that bounty on her head still." He says all this so casually. It really is just how it is for him.

[dragonplated]

A pause before he carefully picks up a pair of the bowls. "I was foiled by an eleven year old who the magic forest liked more," he answers finally, setting the two bowls down on the windowsill and opening it. They were both grabbed immediately by Cinnamon who lumbered off with them. "But that was years ago."

Hearing she'd apparently had similar taste in this other universe was... Yeah, actually that tracked. The next set of bowls get passed out through the window to pokemon before Lance continues.

"We're married." Recently, but still.

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"Ah— Yeah, yup, that oughta do it." Predictable, as usual. "Don't worry, this isn't the weirdest alternate-spouse situation for her that I've stumbled on. One time met another kid of hers where apparently my uncle was with her instead. World works in weird ways, eh?" This totally isn't awkward or weird in any way, shape or form. Mostly for Lance. Luca, unfortunately, has done this song and dance before.

It never gets easier to explain.

Hm. He's in a different world, and he knows what Plants are... Doesn't seem to want to hurt him... And his mom isn't here to scold him for doing it, so... Might as well pass the time til not-mom gets here. "......Wanna see something cool?"

Starting with his face and spreading outward, bright blue lines light up, coiling and twisting across his skin until every exposed bit is covered in the markings. He spreads his arms out for added flair, wiggling his fingers. "Ta-da~!"

[dragonplated]

Teacup investigates briefly before going back to its food instead of getting closer. Lance hums, putting away the last of the food. "Lance. She was assigned to Kanto when their fleet arrived. Gathered information to send back to help the immigrants make their decisions on where they'd settle. As I'm the Champion, we worked together."

A shrug. "She lives here now."

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"Okay, well... Mom doesn't make a decision like that without a flow chart and a minimum of several days deliberation, so. Two of you must be close." He backs away from the counter to give the lil guy space to eat.

"Then she is originally from No Man's Land. Interesting. Was wondering how she ended up somewhere so different." He studies this Lance, a bit more thoroughly now that he isn't clamoring to get information out of him before he decides Luca's not worth the time.

"...Any chance you've nearly committed genocide for actually somewhat sound reasons? Careful, that seems to be her type." No, he's not diving much deeper into that. "Man, I dunno how Pops managed to bag her, much as I love them both. Two very weird sides of the same coin."