#open.;

[exnusquam]

"We do not choose our families and loved ones. All the more important it is to value who we have while it still ... lasts ... "

[swordofruln]

Moving on is not an option.

[adminlang]

"It's interesting to see how prevalent organizations like Team Rocket are in this epoch out in the open. Quite the difference from what I'm used to. Where I'm from Team Rocket is fairly underground and sort of like a boogeyman you tell your kids to worry about, and gangs like Team Plasma and Team Flare are outright illegal and outlawed."

[mystistoria]

"I had... another strange dream. A nightmare, perhaps. It's... I wish I knew how to rid myself of them. They're very disconcerting."

[wahrhelt]

"Why do my hands grow cold, that should not be possible. Fuck's sake."

[spaciialrend]

"Hey, it's so nice to meet you, stranger!" A light, brightly emoted voice calls from behind. Turning around reveals a petite lady with a bright smile on her face, giving a courtsy bow very briefly, as though this was the middle ages. What a strange one.

"What brought you into this space between spaces?"

And now you only realize- this was not the area you'd been heading to originally. It seemed almost the same, but some things were off. Flowers of usually blue where of a rich fuchsia pink here. Small things like this.

"Do you perhaps need help?"

[swordofruln]

This night, the sword returns to its shrine. In the darkness that surrounds them, it's glowing blue eyes are fixated on the seal that used to hold it.

Chien-Pao stands infront, rigid, stiff and as though transfixed. The shrine's shadows beckon, but it would rather die than be trapped yet again.

It's true; the shrines were not just sealed, but spellbound in such a way as to draw not only the ire of those they held, but to also act as a beacon to lure them back into the night. Back into the prison that would be able to hold them for only Arceus knew how much longer.

Chien-Pao's neckfur bristles and it hisses, at no one but the nothing of the nightwind that gently caresses it, startling it.

It wants to hurt something. It is the only way to feel, it is the only way to find safety.

It wants to be someone. It is the only way to feel capable of earning adoration.

Chien-Pao shifts, and hides away in a dark corner opposite of the shrine. It's snowy body melts and morphs, and for the first time in what feels like forever, it takes on a form somewhat befitting that of a person- that of a human.

Or something like it.

The residue of the snow it's made from wanders across now bare and scarred skin, forming coverings where absolutely necessary. Snow is amorphous, capable of taking whatever shape it pleases, and this time, it takes an almost convincingly deceptive fleshlike and fabric like texture.

It will be good enough, to fool human beings.

Reshaped, the sword swallows the feeling of selfloathing it feels, and with the blade that keeps its soul hidden away in its arm, ready to slide out any moment to kill, Chien-Pao slinks away into the night, turning its back on the shrine.