"So Volkner! I heard that you and Mr Redhead have been getting into some trouble lately. I'd love to hear the story~! What in Arcues name did you two do?"
Volkner was quiet for a small moment, looking at her, perplexed. Trouble lately, huh? There was always plenty of trouble whenever Flint was involved; but for the life of him, he couldn’t imagine just which troubling story she was talking about. “Uh... You’re gonna have to be more specific, Cynthia; there’s no single story when it comes to the two of us.”
Sometimes it gets to him. The way she’s just so much better than him. She’s got her life figured out, surrounds herself with work and is the Champion of the Sinnoh region. He just can’t stand the fact that he can never best her in battle no matter what. Like c’mon he works so hard to devise a strategy and new moves but nothing works! It’s so frustrating and he totally doesn’t get how she can get so buried in paperwork and all the other responsibilities she shoulders.
@celesticshuntress
Dawn stifles a tiny yawn before continuing along the winding path. Her battered sneakers kick up sand and pebbles as her feet drags, body clearly not doing so well after a whole day of walking, climbing and scurrying. Not to mention the wild Pokemon that are so keen on taunting the rare visitor or two. She wonders whether they’ll get to the top and set camp, or whether it will soon be too dark to even see waggling fingers in front of oneself.
Judging from the hue of the sky and Cheripuu’s dejected chirp as she lands, it’s likely to be the latter. She stops to recall the Togekiss into her pokeball and turns to Cynthia.
“What do you think about stopping here?” Her eyes wander to a relatively flat and smooth spot between two trees. “We could pitch up the tent right there for the night.”
It is a slight disappointment that they can’t make it according to schedule, but the scenic detour through a natural passage behind the waterfall is easily worth it. Besides, they aren’t going to catch a lunar eclipse, or a meteor shower (like last time). This time, it’s slow and easy, simple and plain stargazing, more process and less results. Dawn has a handheld telescope backpacked, but that’s about it for devices. It’s her very first one, etched with childhood memories of bonding moments with her dad. It’s almost as if she can see the same sky ten, twelve years ago. The first time was during November, and she remembers how she mistook specks of snow on the lens as intricate alien technology. Definitely embarrassing. This time around though, she has long learnt the basics and even some of the more advanced details about astronomy and its vassals. No more of that inexperience, especially not in front of the Sinnoh champion.
At that thought, she looks around to make sure that Cynthia is close by.
“So tent up?”
She shoots Cynthia a lop-sided grin and indecisive thumbs-ups. It’s been four whole days and they still haven’t scaled the mountain. Surely Cynthia must be impatient by now–Dawn knows that it’s her that’s slowing everything down–and for that she lets the guilt echo hollowly. At least she can make it up by assembling the tent.
“Also, here’s water as I go prepare.”
**This is essentially emotional spoilers for an upcoming planned threeway thread with Wes and Rui–it probably won’t make sense to everyone else who hasn’t been involved in planning. I’ll probably reblog it once our thread gets going in the future.
You got a whole lot left to say nowYou knocked all your wind outYou just tried too hard and you frozeI know, I knowWhat do you say?What do you say?He wanted to explain. He wanted to talk, and have people listen. But nobody was listening. Nobody cared what he had to say about the matter. So what else could he do? He was screaming and pounding the walls in his head, as if somehow he could fix this mess that was now his life. There was so little left for him to do, except–what he had to, in order to survive.You know the one thing you’re fighting to holdWill be the one thing you’ve got to let go…Because everyone would rather watch you fallThe memory of his father was burning in his mind. Every moral sensibility he had left was shrieking. He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to do this. But–what other choice was there? Let himself be…
There was always a choice, he’d told himself over and over in the past. Always. And you could always make the right one, if you tried hard enough. But now–with these as his options–
There wasn’t a right choice anymore, was there?Just take a fall, you’re one of usThe spotlight is onOh, the spotlight is on(Just take the fall)Now you’re one of usNow you’re(Oh)Now you’re(Oh)Now you’re one of us
Maybe there was. And maybe he just wasn’t strong enough to make it. He was no better than–just as bad as–what was he anymore? How could he look himself in the mirror when, if, he got back home?
He didn’t think he could. And the only one to blame…was himself.
He could no longer hold any moral high ground, not after this. They’d wanted him to take a fall. And he had fallen.
"Has my Protégé been busy studying? Show me what you've learned."
Red freezes nervously, he’d been busy catching pokemon and battling at the Battle Tree. He only just properly learned what the internet was from Green and gotten over his trauma when Green had forgotten to put the safe search option back on for him.Suddenly he remembered a blond young man he met and stepped forward, nodding firmly before dropping down and dabbing. He kept the pose for an entire ten seconds before staring up at Cynthia with his ever present stoic expression and spoke a line Sapphire had taught him.“...Get rekt”
Grandfather’s displeased grunt rings throughout the room.
Fire looks up from his spot and exhales of breath of relief when he sees that Grandfather has yet to leave his seat, but his hand quickly dipping into the plate of black ink to finish that last stroke (a force of habit he’s developed). However, he drops the brush when he feels a shot of pain in his hand.
"Hiroshi,” Grandfather’s strong, deep voice puts emphasis on his name as a reminder that this is his name -- not something idiotic like ‘Fire’ or pure blasphemy like ‘Keahi.’ “Hold the brush correctly,” he commands, tapping his bamboo stick cane with each syllable. He kneels in front of him and pulls a fresh piece of paper in front of him and Hiroshi stares at his grandfather with complete awe as his form and actions commands both beauty and strength-- even when he’s doing something simple like unrolling a scroll of writing paper.
“Do it again,” he says and Hiroshi complies without a second thought.
Whenever Hiroshi messes up, Grandfather would stop his brushstrokes with his quick-witted cane and make him start over from scratch. He’s never had any trouble writing his name before, but when it came to Grandfather’s lessons, Hiroshi always had to be precise with everything -- the order in which he moved his brush, the length of each line and how straight they were, the size of each little character. After two hours of holding onto the brush, Hiroshi’s hand decides to grow clammy, red, and pulsate.
“...Grandfather,” Hiroshi speaks up, gently tugging at his sleeve, “may I be excused? My hand’s starting to hurt and it’s almost time for me to sleep.”
“Your hand hurts...?” Grandfather scoffs. “Your hand wouldn’t hurt if you hold the brush correctly.” He picks up the papers that his grandson had used up and falls quiet for a few seconds. He then moves his hand in a shooing motion towards Hiroshi. “Fine.” Hiroshi detects that Grandfather is incredibly displeased. “You may leave.”
“Thanks, Grandpa!” Hiroshi gives Grandfather a giant smile -- a face the older man cannot see as his eyes are obscured by numerous flimsy papers -- and crawls towards the door. He, however, stops in his tracks when Grandfather clears his throat.
“Next time, Hiroshi, remember that this paper is for writing...”
Hiroshi laughs quietly.
“You may learn to draw after you have successfully mastered holding the brush,” he adds curtly, making Hiroshi’s grin expand to his ears (though the smile remains unseen).
“Of course! Good night, Grandpa!”
Hiroshi begins to run out of the room only to fall face-first when he realizes that both of his legs have fallen into a deep, deep sleep.
"Candice~! How's the weather in Snowpoint? I've been dying to come back and explore. Have you heard anything interesting lately?"
Candice brightened immediately. “Cynthia! It’s been so long since we’ve gotten the chance to catch up-- how have you been?” She grinned at the Sinnoh Champion before looking up at the sky. “Weather’s been a bit more stormy than usual, actually. The wild Abomasnow might be getting a bit agitated by the change of seasons.”
The Gym Leader looked back at Cynthia with a curious expression. “If you want to do some exploring around Snowpoint, you’re more than welcome to come with me and check on them!”
Cynthia had always been one for living on the edge with her adventures. She was known to traverse dangerous lands and ruins with high heels of all things. This time, she had really done it. Sinking far deeper than she ever intended, she was going to be stuck down here if she didn’t think of something fast.
Breaking out her Skarmory, she jumped on it’s back. This was going to be one of the most dangerous stunts she had ever done. Gripping on tightly, adrenaline coursing through her veins at lightning speed, the Skarmory flew straight up, roaring and flipping to use the steel wings to slice through the cracks in the ruins.
She was barrel rolling through the crack sliding down the slope and then jumping back up and onto Bruna’s back. The duo repeated, over and over, crashing through walls and soaring through cramped spaces. Hanging on for her life, Cynthia finally saw the light at the end of the tunnel. Bracing herself for impact, she managed to hang on long enough to have her Pokemon bust through the wall and send her flying into the sand, skidding to a stop. She flopped over, taking a few deep breaths and looking over to her rather proud Skarmory, petting her. “I never want to do that again. But...then again, a good myth should never go undiscovered Right, Bruna?”
