How strange. Has Piers always owned a lyre? He's surely never bought it, but the lovely instrument is sitting there amongst his other belongings as though its been there all along. The craftsmanship alone tells him that this should be worth a small fortune, made dark polished wood with intricate engravings.
It feels... right in his hands. Natural, even. Like it was made just for him. If he has no song in mind, they seem to come naturally. Working songs, drinking songs, songs of the people of ages long past; ones that haven't been sung in a very, very long time. They wish to be remembered.
In exchange, all that is asked is a story; share a memory of rebellion.
(xoxo fae presents from @swcrdheroed)
The odd instrument is on his bed sitting directly upon his pillow as though waiting for him. When he sees it his heart races for a moment, rushing to check the locks on all the apartment windows, then his closet and under the bed. The locks remain fastened, the closet untouched since last used and the only residents under his bed are some dust bunnies awaiting the next time he has energy to clean under there. He knows the front door was locked and nothing in the apartment is moved. Had someone been there he's certain they would've taken something even if he considers most of his belongings worthless. They're worthwhile to somebody and worth a disturbing amount online.
When all is clear he returns to the instrument, picking it up to investigate it. It appears old yet in pristine condition as though it were made just yesterday. The engravings on it look like flames with the bottom akin to a birds head, a blue gem where the birds eye ought to be. Is there something familiar to this design? In his hands it feels as though it simply demands to be played. Almost thoughtlessly he strums the chords, the sound making him think of songs he's never known. The more he plays though the more the memories become personal.
The Birth of the Yell Raiser
He's young again barely sixteen, Macro Cosmos employees and members of the Leaue's Board are walking through Spikemuth on their way to his house. He can see the disgust on the Board members' faces as they look over his family's city, his city. One pulls a handkerchief out to cover their mouth as though they'll catch something just from being here. He runs to tell his dad of their approach. His father is glassy eyed and distant Piers worries momentarily that he hasn't been heard. But his father sighs, tells him to take Marnie and wait outside, that he'll handle it. There's a gnawing dread in Piers' stomach but he does as he's told. Standing by the front door with Marnie and glaring at the group as they are welcomed to his home. He hands Marnie to James asking him to watch her for a little bit and promises Marnie that everything is okay.
Then he returns home, sneaking to the window to listen in on the conversation. Anyone else would be unable to make out a word being said. But he can hear them just fine. "We just don't think the gym is prospering as it could be. You've been a fine gym leader all these years. But since the death of your dear wife..."
The mention of his mother makes Piers' heart drop and his hands turn to fists. It's barely been a few weeks, and they're using her death as if it were just a bargaining chip in their game? "You haven't been the same. Don't you think the gym deserves better?"
Piers' peers up into the window, trying to get a look at his dad. His dad's head hangs low as the employees stand around him, and the board members sit about the living room table. It's a claustrophobic scene. Piers has to strain to hear his father, who is practically whispering. "We're doing fine. I'm... I'm going to pass the reins to my eldest. He's strong..."
"Cadell. We need the gym open by the end of the month. If the gym isn't open again you're going to lose your place among the major league anyway. Besides, doesn't he deserve better? If you hand the gym over to a new city you and your family can leave this place. Wouldn't you rather go somewhere more comfortable than here? This city... You know it doesn't have long."
"I... I know..." Piers doesn't hesitate hearing his father's almost silent admission. His hands shove him away from the wall, his feet carry him before he even realizes he's moving. He hears others asking him what's wrong, what's going on, as he turns the corner of the house heading straight for the front door. The door slamming open, unbothering to close it to the on lookers outside.
"We're not leaving!" His normally meek voice carries loud enough that it nearly echoes through all of Spikemuth. Everyone in the leaving room turns to look at him. Even his father's head is raised in his direction. "The gym ain't moving, we're not leaving and all a you can go fuck yourselves!"
At the mention of the Gym moving gasps and whispers erupt from the small gathered crowd outside. Nervous glances are shared among the board members. Piers father speaking his voice quiet, even and exhausted yet still commanding. "Piers..."
"All a you have already taken enough from this city!! You're not taking our gym, too!" Piers ignores his father's warning as he steps forward into the room. Sounds of agreement erupt from the crowd outside.
"We're not trying to take anything away, we're just trying to-"
"BULLSHIT! You guys have been trying to kill this city for years! Well I'm not going to let you! We're not gonna let you! This is our city, not yours and if I gotta I'll keep the likes of you out of it myself!" Without realizing what he was doing his hand wraps around the head of an empty bottle sitting atop the trash and the bottle is leaving his hand again thrown directly at the group before he can think twice of what he was doing. The group all duck leaving the bottle to crash and shatter against the wall behind them. The league members sitting jump to their feet as does Piers' father while the Macros Cosmos employees put themselves in front of the board making a barricade between them and the child.
"Ellis!" Piers' dad voice is raised amongst the commotion brewing outside as people begin yelling in agreement to Piers' stance.
"Cadell! Control your kid!" One of the members closest to his father snaps. A Macro Cosmos employee grabs the member, whispering that it'd be better if they left now before things got out of hand. Piers hands grip into tighter fists nails digging into his fists. He steps aside as the group begin making their way out of the house. Macro Cosmos employees having to hold back the gathered crowd who have nearly turned to a mob yelling insults and a few even joining in on throwing things at the suited men. The sight emboldens Piers and despite the way his father grabs his arm he pulls himself free following the group out.
"And stay the fuck out of my house, out of our whole city even! We won't let you take anything from anymore!" Piers following them yelling the entire time with the mob now following behind him throwing rocks, garbage, anything they can get their hands on and yelling in agreement. He only stops when he sees the familiar stage of the gym. Separating from the group to climb atop it while some follow him others continue to chase the group from their home. He grabs the mic usually used for announcing turns in battles and turns it on to carry his voice through all of Spikemuth.
"Everyone hear that?! This is our city and no posh bastards' are gonna take it from us!" Cheers of agreement and encouragement ring out through the crowd as adrenaline rushes through the young boys bloodstream.
"If they wanna bleed it dry we're gonna make 'em fight for every drop a blood they think they want! Whose with me!" It's the first time he hears the roar of the crowd, over time the crowds would grow far bigger. But none would ever be as deafening, as meaningful as this one. This was more then the cheering of fans, these were the cheers of the start of a rebellion, the creation of a new leader to Spikemuth. The birth of the Yell Raiser himself.di
@swcrdheroed left a gift for Gloria💖: The next time Gloria visits the Weald she'll find a shortsword lying next to the bowls of food she'd left for Zacian and Zamazenta, now empty. Attached to it is a note that just says "For Gloria." How weird.
There's an anxious air to Gloria as she makes her way to the Weald. The entire walk there she catches herself glancing over her shoulder, searching the skies for anything out of the ordinary, jumping at every sound she's even slightly not used too. She saw the stranger going to Glimwood Tangle. He had no reason to suspect she was lying or tricking him. She's certain by now he's within the Tangle, likely getting turned around and losing his path with every step he takes. None the less paranoia racks at her mind, fear consuming her peace, not allowing her to drop her guard. It might have been better not to go to the Weald at all today, not after the run in she had with that strange man. After all she could be leading him there without even knowing it.
However she felt she could just avoid the Weald today either. What if the man was a distraction? What if someone else was there hunting the heroes without her knowing it? What if he had tricked her and found his way to the Weald without her knowing? What if? What if? What if? Her worries and concerns play on repeat in her head turning her walk to jog to a run when her feet cross the threshold from her family's farm into the fog covered woods. As has happened every time before the fog eats her tracks, the sounds of her footsteps echo from every which way, Pokemon cries cover her movement and the path she has taken before seems to change, to shift under her very feet. Even behind her the path she came from is no longer the same. The Weald bends and shapes itself differently every visit she makes, rarely does she notice and today is no different.
By the time she reaches the altar her heart is racing, eyes glancing all around in search of some sign that something was amiss. To her great relief nothing is off. The fog is surprisingly clear of this area with the sun shining through the trees to light up the Altar. As though trying to show her something. As she approaches the Altar light glimmering off metal catches her eye. She has to cover her eyes momentarily until she is next to the gift.
A simple yet well cared for short sword sits atop the altar, the silver hilt is bound tightly in braided leather with a rounded end. Gloria looks for any sign of who could have left this only to find herself completely alone in the Weald. A comfort as much as it is confusing. She raises the sword taking note of how much heavier a real sword is compared to the wooden one she brought with her to the Weald for training. She eyes the note attached. For her? She smiles, holding the sword closer to her yet being careful not to cut herself upon the finely sharpened edges.
"Yew 'ave my gratitude." She spokes aloud to no one, to herself, to those in the Weald that are listening in. "Ah promise tuh use dis tuh protect de Weald 'nd anyone else who might need protecin'. Ah also swear tuh take fine care a it."
An oath made to herself and the ones she loves.
(It is not to say that Morgan implicitly trusts Ree just because they're Gloria's friend. But if someone can win over both the little hero and her brother, then, well—they seem like someone worth keeping her eye on, if nothing else. And Ree had done this world a great service; on a grand scale, everyone was in their debt.
in short: Ree passes the vibe check.)
Ree received: Fairy Tea!
-> This strange loose-leaf tea will energize the drinker and help alleviate pain. In exchange, share a memory: what is your greatest success?
a blessing for good healing. - Z
Ree has never been much of a tea drinker. But someone had left this for them to wake up to; something on their desk, when they awoke from another nap, trying to recover from the incidents before.
They bring the little baggie to their nose; the scent is a bit like the ozone, a bit like the beach, a bit like the red moon, but in… a good way? It reminds them of…
The Pokémon world tournament finals.
Battling underneath the blood red moon for the title of Junior champion. Lady sweeping through the other team, Jack tearing the stadium floor apart, business man absolutely obliterating the competition.
Feeling their blood rush as the cheers rained down on them; seeing the way everyone was rooting for them.
They wanted Ree to win.
They wanted to cheer Ree on to victory.
It was their first big tournament; the first time they had left Alola in nearly ten years. Their first encounter with the media. The first …
The first everything.
They were so fucking proud of themself that day.
Ree sniffles at the memory, wiping away something from the corner of their eye. It .. maybe they should make some tea after all.
SHE PINCHES SOFT AND LOAMY SOIL BETWEEN HER FINGERS, rubs their tips together. A quick read of the scent offers nothing; its as mysterious as the thick fog that blankets these woods, offering no pointers back to civilization.
The Weald really was the worst place to get lost. Even with her growing understanding of aura, the peculiar energy of the fae clouded her focus, making it difficult to map out the way she came. The moment something felt familiar, suddenly she'd make a turn and be lost again. Mari couldn't tell if she was going in circles or not.
Rising up from her knelt, the stalwart rider stares onwards into the horizon, debating her next move. She was starting to get hungry, and her pokemon would no doubt need fed soon . . . perhaps it was best to stay put for now, and hope for some sort of rescue in the meantime? "Good grief . . ." With a defeated huff, she sits back on her rump and plants her elbows on her knees, thinking.
. . . That's when she noticed a silhouette. In the thickness of the fog its hardly discernible, but she could definitely tell it was getting closer. Quickly and quietly, she pushes herself to her feet once more.
Morgan stands outside the Chasm—not moving to enter, lest she tread upon another's territory. On the ground she lays a small basket of offerings; meat and berries, a selection of Galarian herbs, and a lovely white flower pinned atop. The Fairy Queen offers a courteous bow to her unseen host.
"A gift for the guardian of these lands. My Teacher spoke highly of you, Great Dragon. I understand times have changed, but the soul of this land still lies with you. It would be untoward of me to visit without offering you something as host. I hope it is to your liking." (swcrdheroed)
– — The Chasm was abuzz with curious chatter as the guest neared their borders, the residents fawning from the cover of trees and shadow as many would never fathom to be greeted by overseas royalty. Not long after does a billow of mist pour from the brush and out appeared the guised dragon, bringing the last of the excited murmurs to hushed tones.
"These days I get many an unruly guest, what with path to the League at my doorstep. But to be visited upon by the Fairy Queen herself? I am most humbled." Kyurem returns the bow, moving to pick up the basket and briefly regarding its contents.
"I graciously accept your offering. But please, my lady, there is no need for such formality. Kyurem suits just fine." His complicated feelings of still being referred to as the 'Great Dragon' aside. "Unova is quite the ways away from your home in Galar. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
